#there is an in universe reason why he's so tanned but also i wanted to give him a sort of gyaruo look
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he has a tan now
#zeno's art#ocs#reassassination#v a angel#there is an in universe reason why he's so tanned but also i wanted to give him a sort of gyaruo look#with the tanlines from his sunglasses looking a bit like the makeup idk.....#for the unaware -#he is an assassin and part of the clear crucifix organisation#he's a womanizer </3#overly confident and fickle - loves blondes + wine + vacations + repressing all his emotions
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Richard actually preferred to spent his Spring Break lounging around his quaint and peaceful university town. But, since his Uncle drove all the way down to pick him up unannounced, simply because Richard is in the same state now, not like he could just shush that man away so he lazily packed his bag and hit the road with the 43 years old hulk of a DILF
They didn't talk much throughout the long trip into the farmland as Richard pretended to fall asleep before eventually really falling asleep on the way there. But he's dead wrong to assume that his Uncle is unaware of his avoidance. In fact, that very attitude is the sole reason why his Uncle came all the way down to pick him up. It's time to mold Richard into the perfect Dawson boys, and Spring Break provides the best timeline in order for Richard to hit his final alteration right during summer
When the pair arrived at the sprawling farm, Richard realized how stinking rich his family must be with all these acres of land under their possession. It's been more than a decade since he last visited the family farm, but clearly this visit will leave him with the memory about the family farm much more clearly. His uncle let him rest for the remainder of the day, he even fell asleep right after his quick dinner and cleaning himself. But Richard didn't expect that he needs to do some hard labour the following morning!
"Your cousin Adam is spending some time with his sickly wife while Steve took off for the entirety of this Spring Break to spend time with his kids. So I need your help, boy,"
"Wait, Adam is married?"
"Yes, a year ago, don't you remem--- oh yeah, you were on your gap year trip,"
The tone his uncle used irked Richard a bit, gap year trip, but he let it go. His mind is focused on the fact that Adam is the same age as him, and he's married? At 20? 19 if he considered the fact it happened a year ago.....what a totally different life the two of them have. His uncle snapped Richard's out of his mind as he told the pale, gangly-looking Richard to put on the boots before helping him around the farm and the ranch. Richard at first doubted that he could fit into the boots, but somehow it fits him just right. So, off he goes with his uncle
Day after day, the routine remained the same. He will wake up at around 5 or 6 AM, have his loaded breakfast and head out with his uncle. He surprisingly found himself enjoying the routine, he even started to address his Uncle with "Sir" and cooked the breakfast for the two. He simply didn't notice the change in his reflection on how his skin tanned on its own, how his form straightened rather than hunched per usual, how all his clothings somehow altered to solely consist of black t-shirt, jeans and some plaid shirt and he just didn't bother to ask his uncle for the whereabouts of his other clothing. He also failed to notice how his uncle has been subliminally planting in his subconsciousness that he enjoyed working in the farm, that he preferred to be called Dick since Richard sounded too posh for him, that Dick has always been interested with farming and the idea to continue the family's business, that Dick wanted to recruit some good trusted friends of his to join the family's business and how he needs to pivot to study about agriculture or farming in uni.....well, scratch that, he will probably drop out later in the summer and learn better about farming or agriculture by working with his Uncle.
Imagine the surprise his roommates got when Richard went back from his Spring Break 30 lbs heavier and looking like a Southern farm stud with his outfit and the way he got this drawl out of nowhere. And he apparently have a souvenir too for them
"Got these from my Uncle, now, try to put these babies on and tell me how it feels,"
---
Fast forward to summer, not only Dick really followed through with his drop out plan, he brings along his now much-more fitting roommate to join him in the farm
Hey there, a bit rushed with this execution but hope it's still an enjoyable read
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(You can tag me on my tgs side blog. I also apologize but I know a few Scottish words. So to anyone reading this I apologize for the inaccuracy.) Becky Boxleitner noticed a change in the atmosphere as she and her pet monkey Bob walked into the sixth grade classroom. All of the students were excitedly chatting with one another. Becky and Bob exchanged confused looks at the scene. 'What is going on?' They both thought. Becky walked to where her friends Violet Heaslip, Rose Franklin, and Todd Scoops Ming were sitting, also joining in the excited yet low volume chattering. "Hey guys what's going on?" Becky asked her friends. They each turned their heads to greet their friend. "Hey Becky guess what, we're getting a new teacher for our class!" Scoops exclaimed. Becky looked surprised at the announcement. Bob also mimicked her facial expression. "Wait really? What happened to Miss Davis?" Becky asked, wondering what happened to their old teacher. It was just a week only into the new school year so a sudden teacher exchange was a complete shock to Becky especially since there were no announcements about it beforehand. "Miss Davis had to move back home because of a family emergency." Rose Franklin answered. "The principal had to scramble to find a new teacher to fill in for our class. It was all last minute stuff." Becky nodded in understanding of her friends' answers. It was a nice perk to be friends who were upcoming reporters. Soon the final bell rang which indicated for every student to take their seats. Becky took her place beside her best friend Violet and Bob plopped down next to her. Soon a man who looked to be in his mid 30s walked in and towards the desk. He had curly brown air, an arched nose, and reddish brown eyes. He wore a tan button-down shirt with a red vest as well as brown slacks and dark suede shoes. The man gave a pleasant and warm smile to all the students there. "Hello my name is Dr. Henry Jekyll and I will be your teacher for the school year." Becky and the other kids ears perked up as they took note of the man's accent. Even Tobey became slightly interested in his new teacher. None of them were sure where their new teacher was from. Dr. Jekyll gave a light chuckle as if he could sense their growing curiosity about him. He lightly clapped his hands together to gain their undivided attention and focus. "Well since this is my first time teaching here, why don't we all play a little game so we can all get better acquainted with each other. Here's what to do. One at a time, say your name and share a wee bit about yourself. Likes, family, interests and all that. I'll go first to show ya what ah mean. Again. My name is Dr. Henry Jekyll. I was born in Glasgow but ah moved to London where I attended university. I have a five year old wee lassie or daughter named Amber. I enjoy chemistry and reading on occasions. Now who would like to go next?" @unhingedexperimenter
Of course Tobey had taken the opportunity to place attention on himself and to have a reason to boast about himself. “My name is Tobey McCallister the third and I will be the most intelligent student you'll meet here.” The others had rolled their eyes, used to this kind of behavior from their peers. Becky seemed to be the most annoyed by it. Having been forced to put up with his destructive tantrums in the past. Henry smiled just as warmly as before. Unbothered by the obnoxious behavior that the boy had been displaying. Tobey had been going on about himself for a good few minutes before the teacher finally spoke up. “Ahem, yes. Thank you for that Mr. McCallister. Would anyone else like to tell me a bit about themselves as well?” No one could tell that behind the facade, Dr. Henry Jekyll was becoming more irritated by the moment. Not by the child but by the pest that refused to leave him be. Scoffing within his head at what they just heard. He didn't share the disembodied voice's opinion but wanted to give the other children a chance to introduce themselves as well. To the others' shock, Tobey seemed to have taken this well. Quickly going back to his desk with no issues. Becky was relieved at that. Soon the other children had started to introduce themselves to their new teacher with little to no issues. He seemed genuinely nice enough to her. This new teacher didn't seem like most of the adults within this city. Some she had to define words repeatedly for. Dr. Jekyll knew what he was teaching and knew his vocabulary. It was Violet who had brought Becky out from her own thoughts, calling her name. Waving a hand in front of her face. “Becky?” The girl smiled in an embarrassed manner. “Huh? Yes?” Violet smiled, patient with her best friend. “Why don't you introduce yourself now? Nearly everybody else already did.” She had given a surprised expression. Becky hadn't realized that she was so lost within her thoughts until then. She stood up and began speaking. “My name is Becky Boxleitner and I also like libraries,reading and Pretty Princess.” The presence that was grating at the teacher's nerves had deemed this too dull to enjoy. Leaving Dr. Jekyll be to his teaching. Well, getting to know his students. He was happy to see that they were engaged in these activities that were meant to break the ice. Though one student in particular had caught his attention the most. Becky. While she did seem rather bright, there was something strange about her behavior at times. Pausing whatever she was doing at the time to listen in on something. Thinking it went unnoticed. Even once looking alarmed and she made an excuse to go to the bathroom. He had allowed it. Feeling that it would've been better to have let her. It seemed…oddly familiar. As if he had seen that behavior somewhere before but couldn't figure out exactly where from. When the school day was finally over, Becky had gone to go home like the others. Dr. Jekyll had of course stayed behind to set more things up within his new classroom. Making a plan on exactly what he'll actually start teaching the next day. Though, the grating voice had returned to be a thorn in his side. “Come on. Leave this boring stuff alone. Leave it until tomorrow. I've been pent up for far too long. Let's have some fun.” This had earned an eye roll and a loud huff from the teacher. “No, I've got to get this done now. You will have enough time tonight. Just be patient until then.” A shadowy figure formed in front of Dr. Jekyll. A frown on its face. “But this is so extremely dull. I want to stretch my legs. I want to make myself known already.” Dr. Jekyll glared. “And that is precisely why I'm so hesitant to let you out so soon. At least let us get acclimated to our surroundings first.” The figure let out an annoyed groan. “You know you want this as much as I do. Otherwise you'd never have any actual fun in the sad and pathetic life you call yours.”
@thecountoflondonfansite
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Metatron's Tie
**Update: check the reblogs. There's a clear picture that shows the tie pattern as flowers. So, there goes my theory. Whomp whomp. Easy come, easy go, as Freddie says. @archangelween @drconstellation
People, I have been trying to get a good look at the Metatron's ding dang neck tie since September to determine what those little blue symbols are. Because, like everything in the Good Omens universe, I believe it's been put there for a reason. I also believe that God has no idea what she's doing, which is why she hired Neil Gaiman to run things for a few decades.
Despite being a so-called agent of Heaven, the Metatron's costume is coded as demonic, from his dark topcoat to the black stripes on his white shirt. The item I find most fascinating, however, is his tie. And this is probably in large part because I've had so much difficulty seeing the subtle blue pattern upon it and that has made my brain itch and made me hyperfixate. As one does.
I think I may have figured out the design, and it complicates all my Metatron theories, but here we go. The Metatron's tie is black, featuring a repeated small bright blue symbol throughout. I've guessed it could be a star or a planet. A cryptic sigil or maybe something to do with the coffee (I'm not a coffee-theory person, though, for the record.) I don't know what it is (well, maybe I do now, and I promise we'll get there in time...I'm a demon of my word), but I do know that it's important.
All the angels have references to their angelic status concealed within their costumes.
Michael is the watcher. She is the one who, in Saturday Morning Funtime, delivers surveillance photos to Gabriel. To reflect this, Michael wears a gold ring featuring several small pearls that symbolize eyes. She is ever-vigilant (hyper-vigilant, ya might say), and even has a contact in Hell (Dagon) to broaden her scope of observation. The placement of the ring in the pinky is also significant. A good watcher mustn't themselves be observed, so Michael, in her role as observer must slip under the radar. This corresponds to the pinky finger being small and quite literally underhanded, as in at the bottom of the hand.
Uriel's ring is a silver star, worn on her/their index finger, the digit associated with authority. (We call it the index finger because we use it to sort and catalog, creating meaning and order.) Uriel certainly commands authority, both in their overall calm and assured demeanor, and also in their actions. It is she who physically confronts Aziraphale prior to the S1 No-pocalypse, easily inspiring fear in the Principality. As for the symbol of the star, I believe it is a reference to modern Angelography (I might have made up that word, but I think you know what I'm talking about) which usually describes Uriel as a sun, star, or the flame of the Almighty.
Sandalphon's symbology is two-fold: a thick gold pinky ring featuring a pair of circles (kind of looks like a lego brick, to be perfectly fair) and that small gold grill he wears on his front teeth. Both these items are the most elaborate pieces of angelic adornment that we see. Sandalphon's overall aesthetic is much warmer than the other angels', leaning toward caramel and tan rather than dove gray. He's a bit of an odd ball in the host of Archangels and stands out based on his wardrobe choices alone. He's also the only Archangel not to return in S2. I don't want to make too much of this, because there are many in-universe reasons why we may not see Sandalphon again. However, in Judeo-Christian scripture, Sandalphon is closely joined with...wait for it...the Metatron, with apocryphal texts describing him as Enoch's (the Metatron's pre-angelic human name) twin brother. I take this with a hefty spoon of salt, though, since Neil definitely plays loosey-goosey with these dogmas and even the scriptures themselves are a veritable soup of contradiction. (The Bible is not a static or universally canonical text, and Hebrew scriptures, outside the Tanakh are a web of activity and debate as to what is accurate. I'm not here for the arguments today; this is not my Bat Mitzvah.)
Finally, we have Gabriel, the only Archangel who doesn't wear a ring. He does, however, wear a watch. I have two thoughts about the watch. First, clocks are thematically relevant in the Good Omens universe. From the grandfather clock in the bookshop to Crowley's elaborate wristwatch (which he has in both show and book) to the opening sequence of S1, which has far too many clock faces to count. So there's that. But holding time in one's hand (or on one's wrist) is a powerful metaphor that illustrates control and higher power. To possess a clock is to command time and space which are essentially inseparable. As the Supreme Archangel, Gabriel is nearly the top-ranking being in the universe (for a time, at least...see what I did there? pathetic laughter) and his wristwatch demonstrates this point.
If you're still with me, you're doing great. Good job.
We've got to see how important the Archangels' symbology is to their characters, I think, to really understand why the sigils on the Metatron's tie matter. So, finally to the point. Dolphins. Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.
To move forward, we'll need to call upon my old friend, the Tarot deck. Cards, in general, and Tarot, in particular, play a marked role in the GO universe. The Almighty Herself addresses the viewer in the opening lines of the show, "God does not play dice with the universe; I play an ineffable game of my own devising. For everyone else, it's like playing poker in a pitch-dark room, for infinite stakes, with a Dealer who won't tell you the rules, and who smiles all the time." As God speaks, cards appear on screen, and some of those are from the Rider Waite Tarot deck. One specific card that caught my eye in this montage is "Judgement."
This card features an angel blasting a trumpet and waking the dead from their graves on the Day of Judgement. The angel on the card is not named, as such. It's usually assumed to be Raphael, as he is the angel who is prophesied to call and raise all souls on this day. However, I've found other references naming the angel as either Gabriel or the Metatron. Now, I don't want to get overly carried away here, but in the context of Good Omens, reading the Judgement card with the Metatron as the angel pictured may actually make a lot of sense, and clarify the sigils on the Metabutt's tie. The Metatron postures himself as the Voice of God--the Mouthpiece of the Almighty. Kinda like a trumpet, yes?
Now look at the flag on the angel's trumpet. That's called St. George's Cross and it's a very prevalent European Christian symbol dating back to the Middle Ages. Like many images in the Tarot, it's a heraldic emblem that has meaning outside the deck, often associated with bravery and military might. It continues to be used in military iconography into the present day. The Judgement that the angel heralds is not peaceful. It's a call to war. The righteous will be gathered to Heaven and the wicked will be destroyed--a repeat of the first Great War in which Satan and the demons were cast into Hell. In the narrative of Good Omens, this war will bring about the end of time, the end of the world, and the beginning of eternity (hope ya'll like The Sound of Music.)
Kids (human and goat, alike) I think those little blue sigils on the Metatron's tie are Saint George's Cross. (I'm so sorry this is so small and hard to see. Now you know my pain.)
In the Final Fifteen, the Metatron speaks briefly about the Second Coming, which is a reference to Saint John of Patmos' prophecies--you might know them as the Book of Revelation. Some Christians interpret Revelation as an upcoming final judgement for humanity. And it seems, based on in-universe exposition, certain characters view these prophecies in a similar light. In the reverse body-swap at the end of S1, Crowley suggests that the averted Apocalypse was not the end of the conflict. "If you ask me," he says, "Both sides are gonna' use this as breathing space before the Big One. [...] For my money, the really Big One is all of us against all of them." And with the Metatron acting as the Mouthpiece of God, that "Big One," that Day of Judgement, if you will, may well be nigh.
I think the Metatron sees himself as the angel who rings out the Final Judgement. He is the Voice of God, after all. But here is a worrying thought. How little he would need to shift perspective to view himself as the Word of God, as well. The Gospel of John opens, "In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God. The Same was in the beginning with God." The Word of God is an epithet for Jesus. The same Jesus whose Second Coming the angel of judgement is meant to announce. So what if the Metatron just plans to consolidate these roles for himself: the heralding angel and the Second Coming rolled into one. He would become Judgement Incarnate, supplanting the Almighty once and for all. And for my money, that sounds just like what a demon would like to do.
***I'm updating because several readers have pointed out that it seems like I'm saying Metatron=Demon because Demon=Bad. Thank you for bringing this to my attention--it makes me a better communicator. I can see where it's coming from. It's not my intention. Consider this meta sort of an extension of my "Metatron is the Murder Hornet" meta, which I'll link with the tags if you're interested.
Just wanted to clarify that I think at its heart, Good Omens is thematically about rejecting the dichotomy of good and evil and embracing the messy gray space that is reality.
When I call Metaboob a demon, it's not because I think demons are evil, it's because I think he's the hornet in the beehive and we've seen that demons need an angelic escort (Crowley and Muriel) to access Heaven.
TL;DR Angels are not the good guys. Demons are not the bad guys. Good Omens is NOT about that at all.
#good omens#the metatron#metatron#good omens 2#go metas#tarot#archangels#archangel fucking gabriel#archangel gabriel#archangel uriel#archangel michael#archangel sandalphon#good omens costumes#go costumes#youtube#metatron is a demon
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Apollo + love at at first sight ?! It's cliche, corny and kinda dumb, but hell if I don't want to see what you can do with it cuz it's just too cute for me to not ask!
A coffee shop, the best part of Apollo's day. It's about four in the morning and there are currently two customers inside it. You and him.
You're perched on a squeaky chair, a cup of hot cocoa cooling in your hand as you type on your laptop with your other. One leg is folded under another, creating a half criss-cross and your hair is messy as you brush a piece out of your face. And like always, you're the first thing Apollo notices.
He comes here every morning to get a pick-me-up cup of Joe before the exhausting job of driving the sun and he's noticed that every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday, he can count on your presence by the window.
You're a college student; the constantly tired eyes, inevitable personal library and your university's name printed in bold on your sweatshirt prove it. Despite having all the reasons to be cranky, you're a wonderfully cheery and warm person.
Sometimes Apollo comes in before you and when that happens, he stands against the wall, sipping his to-go cup as he watches the door. When you come in, you wave at the workers and greet them by name, always finding his eyes and giving him a soft smile and a tilt of your head.
Gods, he's so in love with you. He has been since that Saturday you wandered in with books and stress piled in your hands. You had noticed him waiting for his order besides you and complimented his sun glasses.
"Do you not like the sun?" You followed it up with.
He chuckled, "Oh no, the sun is a beauty but I've got enough of it as is."
You gave him a curious grin, "I don't think I'll ever get enough of the sun. It's my favorite part of my day, you know, watching it rise in the sky."
His tan cheeks turned a shade redder than usual. "Is that so?"
"Yeah," Your name is called and you plucked your drink from the counter, "It reminds me of tomorrow. As long as the sun keeps coming up, I will always have another chance."
You handed him his cup that had been waiting patiently and unseen on the counter top and cheers-d him.
"I can see why you don't want it any more though," The words floated over your shoulder as you swayed to your already-claimed table, "You've got a nasty sunburn."
Apparently, his blush had been worse than he thought.
Today, you looked more relaxed than usual. You also looked like you got a full eight hours of rest, which was new. Apollo traced your figure with hearts in his eyes as he waited for his order.
You finished a sentence, took a swing of hot cocoa and looked up for the first time in ten minutes. Your eyes found his and instantly lit up, a gentle smile played on your lips as you gave him a short wave.
He took that as his cue to come over.
"Whatcha working on?" He asked once he was close enough, about a foot away from your table.
"My final for English. You have to write about something that inspires you." Apollo opens his mouth to talk but is interrupted by his name, echoed by a worker as they hold out his coffee. He excuses himself, and returns quickly with the cup pressed to his lips.
"So, what inspires you?" He asks, and he really wants to know.
"You."
His breath stops, he might've died if he was mortal. That's the power you have over him.
"Me?"
"You come here everyday. You wear the same clothes, same glasses, same expression. The decor changes from season to season, new workers come and go and new customers try new drinks. But you're constant."
His head is tilted as he looks down at you. You're sure of your assessment but it's not mean as you say it, your words kissed with your stunning smile as they leave your mouth.
"I'm constant." He repeats.
"I count on you, Apollo," It's the first time you've said his name, obviously knowing it from baristas. The effect is has on him is embarrassing, his cheeks burning easily, "You're what I know I will find in the morning. You're my sun, even if you weren't named after the god of it."
Suddenly, your cheeks redden as you realize what you've said to a practical stranger. Your eyes fall from where they had stayed on his up until now.
"I happen to be more than named after the sun god, but I appreciate the compliment." He gives you a shiny smile and you return it, albeit a littler shyer.
"And anyways, I feel the same about you. You make my mornings. At least, my mornings on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays."
You giggle and meet his eyes again. Mirth, joy and something deeper dances in there and your smile grows. You reach across the table and move several books out of the way, gesturing for him to sit across from you.
Apollo places his to-go cup on the wood and plops down with a new conversation starter already on his tongue. The rest of the world could wait for him, but you've waited enough. And the sun always shines on those he loves.
#oph.posts#oph.thoughts#oph.anons#pjo hoo#pjo#pjo hoo toa#pjo fluff#pjo x reader#pjo x reader fluff#pjoverse#percy jackson series#apollo#pjo apollo x reader fluff#apollo x reader#pjo apollo#apollo x reader fluff#pjo apollo x reader#apollo fluff#pjo apollo fluff#pjo x you#pjo x you fluff#pjo x y/n#pjo x y/n fluff#apollo x you#apollo x you fluff#apollo x reader pjo#pjo apollo x you#pjo apollo x you fluff#pjo apollo x y/n
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pLEASE i’m dying for an enemies to lovers with do djarin and male reader. maybe the reader is also a bounty hunter and they’re going after the same bounty (possibly the Child) but have to reluctantly work together. maybe they have previous reasons to hate each other, but there’s a LOT of tension and fluff! no smut, please, and thank you <3
I have no clue when this was asked so I’m so sorry if you’ve been waiting for centuries, but I’m back from my long hiatus and ready to fuck this shit UP!!
You have been heard and I will try my best to do well! I’m a tad rusty but I hope you like it 💗
I hate your guts (not)
Summary: you and din had been tasked to work together to protect the child, after years of being rivals. (Set in season 1 pre- knowledge that grogu is well called grogu)
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You fucking hated din Djarins guts.
Well, maybe that was an exaggeration,but you sure as hell hated him. Ever since you had begun to bounty hunt he had been trying to beat you in almost every aspect. It was a sort of unspoken challenge to see who would get the first part of beskar armour- which he had won, then who would be higher ranked, which he had also won, then it was who would get a better shop, he had won yet again. This repeated over and over until your paths inevitably crossed. Some higher ups had believed you two LIKED eachother - which to you two seemed utterly insane.
Cut to you two standing in front of Din’s ship, awkward silence handling heavy in the air, with only the occasional clunk of armour or heavy breathing. You were the first to speak, muttering a quiet “this is fucking stupid, you’re fucking stupid.” Din wasn’t supposed to hear you say it, but he did.
You could only assume he rolled his eyes before he sharply turned to you to whisper-yell “I’m about as happy as you are about this whole… arrangement” he made sharp gestures with his hands and his words where punctuated sharply “so cut the shit and let’s just get this over and done with.okay?”
You simply scoffed and entered the ship.
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Neither of you had planned for this ‘short mission’ to drag on for nearly a year yet it did, and now here you were, tension even thicker than when you started- if possible- with a small green alien in the ship.
Over the year you had thought lingb and hard about the real reason you began hating din, and too be honest you couldn’t quite remeber the reason why you had started to be angry at him to begin with.
Occasionally you would pear around the bunk room to see him cleaning his armour, hunched over on the small bunk, under armour tight against his sculpted body, with the occasional peak of tan skin from under his gloves. You would find yourself standing there for hours, only being torn away when the child would tug on your leg, indicating he wanted to be fussed over.
Or how you would sit slightly behind sun when he would be piloting, eyes concentrated on his hands, watching the skilled way he would flick between controls and expertly fly the large ship gracefully through the universe. No stars nor glaxy could capture your attention like he could. You would brush it off as resentment or ‘judging his work’ often giving him snide remarks to throw him off, but your voice was often laced with an undertone of- compassion.
Or just in every day life when your gaze would linger on him for just longer than it should, before you would return to your task.
You where resting after a tough mission, tending to your wounds whilst playing with the child, who was sat on the table looking at you with his big eyes full of concern, when din entered.
His stance was different today, and you had become good at reading how he held himself, seeing as you had no context clues from his face, his body language spoke volumes. However , today, he seemed- well you couldn’t quite tell. That concerned you- din was a simple man to you, he never held himself in any other way than tense or angry around you. Or at least your perspective of it.
You had obviously been silently staring at him too long trying to figure out what his body language was, when he coughed loudly.
“What do you want space boy” you groaned out, space boy had been your nickname for him, much to his annoyance. However today your tone didn’t hold malice nor anger, it wavered slightly and sounded more cautious. Din sensed this and slowly sat, not next to you by the table, but by the bunk room a few metres from you. He sat slumped against the wall, hands hanging by his sides. He sighed loudly before speaking ina. Hushed and croaky tone- one associated with crying usually.
“Look, m/n, what’s the problem between us… tell me, because I don’t think I can go one more day on this damned ship with you, the tension between us is fuxkjngn killinn me” his tone slightly turned more frustrated and he let his head fall back to rest against the wall.
You took a long pause before whispering “I don’t know.” You tried to finish your thought, to explain why you hated him so, but your words caught in your thought and brain fuzzed over, so he started talking again.
“I notice you, I feel you look at me, m/n” his tone adopted a more subtle calm one, and he inches closer on the bench, being slightly closer to you.
You raise your gaze from the floor to look into his dark visor, squinting your eyes in a desperate attempt to see his eyes- to gauge what he means by this.
He continues again, mindlessly rambling at this point. “M/n, I-…” he trailed off, but stood up and turned the lights off. Your breath hitched and body tensed.you hear The sound of his helmet hissing as it was removed from his armour, and then set down on the table. He tapped the side of your helmet to motion for you to do the same, and you complied.
In the few seconds that followed something seemed to click in your brain, you figured maybe the same things had clicked for him earlier.
You stood from your chair, and it clattered behind you and scraped against the floor. You took one step towards din and he pulled you closer by a hand on your lower back. He didn’t kiss you at first, instead taking his time to trace every feature of your face with his fingers, trying to memorise it. He didn’t say a word and neither did you.
After a while you lifted your own hands to cup his face, a soft gasp falling from your lips as you felt the warm scruff of his beard, then the soft skin of his cheeks, and his beautiful hooked nose. You took your time to imagine his soft brown eyes and paint your own image of his face in your Brain, carving it there so you could never forget it. After a while you felt his hot breath against your cheeks, and he whispered “I want to kiss you,may I?” You slowly nodded your head and he pressed his lips to yours.
As your lips connected you felt the years of tension slip away, instead replaced with a warm glow inside you. You kissed back, lips pressing against his. You knew it wouldn’t go any further today, and so did he. You just stood in the dark room of his ship, holding eachother quietly. There was no conversation of the hatred held by one another over the years, nor one of what was to come after this.
All that you knew right now was you had him and he had you.
——————————-——-//end//————————————
A/n: I’m sorry if this is super shit, I know it’s been like 6 months since I’ve posted but I was taking a mental health break, and I’ve recently been diagnosed with spondylolisis so I’ve been navigating that.
Hopefully I’ll start posting more!! I have 2 more fics I’m hoping to get done by the end of the week so that’s another thing.
Lots of love
Finn
#male reader#pedro pascal#gay#male x male#din djarin x male reader#din dijarin fanfiction#din djarin#the mandalorian#mando#mando x reader#pedro pascal x male reader
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Camp Wiegman-Part 81
Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle
Alternative Universe: Military School
Words: 5K
Masterlist
———————————————————————
Sunday, April 17th; 2:30 PM - Porto Beach.
“So, how’s it going with your in-laws?”
I’m gazing at the horizon when Alexia's question drops. We decided to have a relaxing day for this first day of vacation in Porto. Jenni is exhausted from the work at the gym, and she wanted us to start off slowly... Well, as slowly as we can, I guess. Alexia and I are soaking up the sun on our towels, while Lucy and Jenni have decided to play a game of volleyball not far from us. It’s hot today for an autumn day, so it’s the perfect opportunity. The beach isn’t crowded, but the sun has brought out a few people anyway. I get it. It’s nice to enjoy this unexpected warmth.
“Well... I had a strange conversation with my mother-in-law this morning.”
“Really? Was it at least in a good way?”
“Oh yes, yes. She straight up told me, ‘Welcome to the family, Ona,’” I mimic in a deeper voice.
Alexia bursts out laughing and props herself up on her elbows. She looks at me through her sunglasses.
“Oh wow, that’s classic. Honestly, you didn’t land the best mother-in-law... Jenni’s parents are lovely compared to her.”
“They seemed pretty nice last night, that’s true. Is it going well with them?”
“Totally, yeah. They’re adorable to me. According to them, I’m her longest relationship... I didn’t know how to take that.”
“I can imagine.”
I laugh before we lapse into a silence. I gaze at the sky where a few clouds are floating, but not enough to cover the sun. It’s strong today. I had to put on sunscreen just in case. With my fair skin, I burn quickly.
“You look like something’s bothering you.”
I sigh and turn my head in her direction. Unlike me, O seems to tan easily. I’m a bit jealous of that. I wish it would happen to me too.
“I think Lucy is hiding something from me.”
She furrows her brow.
“Go on. Why do you think that?”
“She made some vague comments last week, and she’s been acting weird since we got here.”
“Really? I don’t find her behavior different.”
“She’s tense, and I don’t know. I can tell something is bothering her.”
“And do you think there’s a particular reason?”
“I think she went through something here that she’s trying to hide... Or maybe forget. I don’t really know. She barely talked to me about her life here.”
“You sound pretty sure of yourself.”
“It’s a gut feeling. Maybe I’m wrong.”
“Well, ask her.”
“It’s more complicated than that. I don’t want to push her, you know. I feel like she thinks whatever she reveals will change everything between us.”
“That’s silly.”
“Yeah... I know, right?”
I groan and lie down on my stomach. I’m trying to alternate so I get some color on both sides. My friend quickly follows my lead, sighing at the same time.
“I don’t know what to say. Maybe there’s nothing at all. It’s just a feeling, after all.”
“Hmm.”
I’d like to believe that’s the case too. Unfortunately, I don’t think it is.
“And what about you? How did it go between Jenni and Alba? And the party we missed? Was it good?”
She laughs and nods her head. I rest my head on my arms, making sure I can still keep my eyes on her.
“Surprisingly, everything went well. Maybe our big fight wasn’t for nothing. Alba was calm.”
“That’s great!”
“Oh yes, totally. It was a bit tense during their first meeting at the party. Jenni wasn’t comfortable at all at first. Not only did she have to face Alba, but it was also the first time she saw all her students again as my girlfriend, you know?”
“It’s hard to picture her feeling uncomfortable, though.”
I tease, but Lucy reacts the same way. It must be strange for them.
“She was, I swear,” she teases back. “It was funny to see.”
“I bet. Anyway, I’m glad everything’s going well for you. So, how did it go?”
“My sister was cool. She was also a bit tense, but everything went well. They shook hands and, as the evening went on, they started talking.”
“Like, big sister talk?”
“No, no. Alba was genuinely interested in her. Like, she wanted to get to know the person I’m with, you know?”
“Wow. Cool. And our friends? How did they react when they saw Jenni?”
“Shocked,” she laughs. “They didn’t understand anything until they connected it with the school story. No one saw it coming.”
“I can imagine. And last week? Did you all stay together as planned? I think that’s what Alba wanted.”
“Yes. Misa and her helped us out with the gym. I think Alba appreciated that she had such an ambitious project. Plus, it seems like playing tough girl bonds them together. They even managed to laugh together.”
I giggle, burying my head in my arms.
“Well, that’s good then... Everything’s finally falling into place.”
“Yeah. We’ve made so much progress, you and Lucy are going to be surprised. Some furniture is already in place now. It’s totally different from when you left. Oh, and, you were right about one thing. Misa isn’t so bad after all.”
I laugh heartily. She finally understood. Her week must have been interesting. I almost regret not being there.
“I know,” I replied.
I have to admit I’m quite surprised after Alba’s outburst when he overreacted. He managed to reassess himself before the meeting. That’s good. Things are getting back to normal. It was about time.
“But still, something was missing.”
“Oh yeah? What?”
“You and Lucy, of course! I can’t wait for school to be over so she can finally spend time with them. You two were really missed at the party.”
“There are only three weeks left now. We’ll manage to hold out for what’s left.”
“Definitely.”
“Just three more weeks...”
I sigh and close my eyes, burying my head between my arms again. All’s well that ends well, finally. I feel reassured. I can go back to relaxing. However, this peace doesn’t last long. After just a few minutes of tranquility, a wet body comes to lie against mine. I gasp at the coldness it brings. When I open my eyes, I spot some brown strands mingling with my blonde hair. I have nothing to worry about when her lips come to kiss my neck.
“You’re wet,” I mumble, making my girlfriend laugh.
“Sorry, I wanted to cool off before hiding your body.”
“Hiding it, huh?” I giggle.
“Well, yes. A group of guys has been watching you a little too closely for a while now.”
“Oh really? Then it’s better to chase them away,” I tease.
“Exactly. Make some room for me.”
“You really can’t just take your towel, can you?”
I grumble, but I still move to the side to let her lie under me. I half-drop onto her with a sigh of contentment. Actually, no. It’s more comfortable this way. Lucy giggles as she wraps her arms around me.
“No, I can’t. You’re starting to get sunburned, though. Are you sure you’re from Portugal?” she laughs.
“Put some more sunscreen on me instead of teasing.”
“Anything for my princess.”
She wiggles around to grab it from our bag above our heads. Once she gets it, she spreads some in her hands before rubbing it on my back. I enjoy her little caresses as she applies the lotion.
“Thanks,” I murmur.
“It’s my pleasure.”
“So, guys, what are we doing tonight?” Ale asks.
“It’s already planned,” Jenni announces.
“Oh yeah? And what is it?” she asks curiously.
- "Well, that’s up to Lucy to ask."
- "Oh, so you’re doing things behind my back now?"
- "Nonsense. I had the idea, and Jenni approved it this morning," she defends herself.
- "And what’s this idea?"
- "Well... I thought of you. I remembered that you like football matches, and there happens to be one tonight."
- "A football match?" Alexia comments. "What a great idea! It’s been ages since I’ve seen one! Did you get the tickets?"
- "Yes, this morning..."
I smile at Lucy, who's been watching me the whole time. I can tell she’s gauging my reaction. The last time I went to a stadium was with my father.
- "That’s a great idea," I tell her.
I kiss her to accompany my words, and I can feel her relax immediately. Her arms tighten around me, and I rest my head against her chest. I smile at Alexia, who has a small smirk.
- "Well, you two look even closer than before... It was already hard to top that, but now..."
I chuckle softly, snuggling against Lucy. She’s right. I think we’ve reached a point in our relationship where there’s no turning back. If a breakup ever happened, it would be devastating.
- "Hmm... You’re right."
- "What did you do in Lisbon last week?"
- "Not much," Lucy replies. "Lots of rest, hikes, and evenings at the beach."
- "Hmm, hmm..."
Her smile grows, and I roll my eyes with a small laugh. I have a feeling she’s going to grill me when we’re alone.
- "Hey, there’s an ice cream vendor passing by. Do you want one?" Lucy offers.
It seems like I’m not the only one trying to dodge the conversation, which makes me laugh again.
- "Good idea, I’ll go with you."
- "Yeah, go ahead, run away instead of telling us what’s changed so much between you two!"
We laugh heartily at Alexia's playful shout as we walk away. I kiss Lucy, who holds me tightly with her arm around my shoulders.
- "I love you," she whispers to me while I’m still giggling.
Sunday, April 17; 9:45 PM - Stadium.
Everyone is shouting around us, Alexia being the loudest. The atmosphere is wild. I don’t remember it being this intense. Lucy had a great idea, and I’m so glad we’re here right now. She’s the best girlfriend. I never thought she’d remember such a small detail I’d told her a long time ago. It’s just a league match, but the fans are giving their all for their team.
- "I can’t believe it! How did she miss such an easy chance!?"
- "I didn’t know she liked football this much," I whisper to my girlfriend.
She laughs, watching my friend who’s now standing, fuming. She’s one of those people who hate when the home team is losing by just one goal.
- "Me neither."
- "Pff! Unbelievable," Alexia says as she sits back down beside me.
- "Sweetheart, maybe you should calm down a bit," Jenni tries to soothe her.
I can’t hold in my laughter anymore, and neither can Lucy. This scene is just too funny. It seems I’m also witnessing a very uncomfortable Jenni.
- "But seriously! Even I could do better than them!" she says, crossing her arms.
- "Oh, really?" I tease.
- "Hey, don’t laugh. I played football for a long time in high school. The only issue was that we kept changing schools."
She crosses her arms and continues sulking.
- "Oh, I didn’t mean to upset you," I giggle. "I didn’t know you played football."
- "Well, now you know. But seriously, this amateur team can’t even equalize," she continues with exaggerated gestures.
This time I burst out laughing. She’s clearly making our night.
- "We really need to think of bringing her along every time we go to a match," I say to Lucy.
- "Oh no, please don’t," Jenni begs from her other side.
The poor girl’s going to have to endure this for a while longer. Halftime eventually arrives. Lucy and Jenni had left a bit earlier to grab something to eat since we hadn’t stopped anywhere before. Alexia has finally calmed down, though she’s clearly upset that her team hasn’t managed to close the gap.
- "So, are you finally going to tell me what’s up with you and Lucy?" she asks.
- "Tell you what?"
- "Don’t play innocent," she says with a mischievous grin. "Something’s different, I can feel it."
- "There’s nothing special, I assure you," I giggle. "I think being away from school has been good for us."
- "Did you tell her about Feli? You know... what she doesn’t know yet."
- "Briefly, yes. She had a feeling, but she cut me off. I think she doesn’t want to know, and that’s fine with me."
- "So, Mapi was wrong in the end."
I chuckle and nod.
- "She doesn’t need to know. Otherwise, she’d be upset."
- "Mum’s the word, I promise," she says with a wink.
I smile sincerely at her. There are perks to being close to two friends at once. If I can’t tell one something, I can tell the other.
- "The important thing is that you were able to let it out. I’ve never seen you so relaxed. You’re at peace."
- "She’s made me feel at peace," I reply.
- "Have you been able to enjoy her company?" she asks, raising her eyebrows suggestively, making me laugh.
- "Stop," I say, blushing.
- "What? You’re not going to get shy about this now, are you?"
- "And what about you and Jenni?"
- "Oh no, no, no. This isn’t about us. Your situation is more complicated."
I roll my eyes. Well, she’s not wrong, but she doesn’t need to remind me. To make her think otherwise, I respond:
- "Well, actually, this trip has been very... fruitful. We’ve enjoyed ourselves... especially in the evenings."
- "Really?" she says, surprised.
- "Oh yes. Lucy is a goddess," I admit, blushing again as I think back to our nights together.
She laughs loudly.
- "Wow... She must have really put you in some kind of state for you to blush like that."
- "Stop, it’s not funny."
- "It’s crazy, though."
- "What is?"
- "Well, a few months ago, she hated me for getting her best friend kicked out. Now she’s dating a student, and we’re even spending time together at her place. I seriously never saw that coming."
- "I believe you."
- "I’m so glad you came to the school. It’s the best thing that could have happened to me. Not only do I have a best friend now, but you’ve completely changed my circle. Everything could have been so different without you."
I smile sincerely at her. I totally understand what she means.
- "I know exactly what you mean. If I hadn’t come here, I’d probably still be in my room, feeling sorry for myself. Or who knows, maybe I’d have left home again to go back to drugs."
- "Don’t say that. I don’t think you would’ve sunk that low."
- "You’re wrong. I think I would have. I had nothing to hold on to before. Now I have Lucy, Mapi, you, and everyone else. And let’s not even talk about my future. I never would have worked in the arts without Lucy."
- "As they say, ‘if’ changes the world. We were lucky that only good things came our way. Not everyone gets that."
- "That’s true," I sigh. "In the end, the school has every reason to exist. It really does work miracles."
Alexia laughs, nodding in agreement. Unlike me, she’s believed in this from the start, but I’m only realizing it now. It’s a good thing it exists. When you're surrounded by good people, everything changes. You lose that hatred for the world. You only see the good. That’s how I feel right now.
- "Do you already know if you’re going to meet Lucy’s family? Jenni told me they all live nearby and that she’s close to them. She thinks you’ll be meeting them soon."
- "Are you reading their minds or something?"
- "Why do you say that?" she teases.
- "When we got back from the beach to change before meeting you, her parents told us they’re organizing a big barbecue. They want me to meet everyone."
- "Really? That’s cool."
- "Yeah... I hope you’ll be invited. That way, you can support me."
- "Oh, I don’t think you need to worry."
- "You just said she’s close to them. What if they don’t like me? What do I do?"
- "Well, nothing at all," she giggles. "Lucy loves you. She’s not going to leave you over that."
- "Hmm..."
"Don’t make that face. I’m sure they’re going to love you. »
- We’ll see.
- You managed to win over her mother in just one day. I think you’ll be able to handle the rest of her family, right?
- Yeah… You’re probably right.
To be honest, her mother is quite something. Even Alexia noticed it after just one meal with her.
- Anyway, all that matters is that Lucy loves you. She’ll never let them bring you down. She doesn’t let anyone do that.
I sigh softly. Now that I think about it, she’s right. Lucy always takes my side, as long as I’m doing the right thing.
- Is she just as nervous about meeting your family? Because she’s going with you to your mother’s wedding, right?
- Yes, but I don’t think so. She hasn’t mentioned it. On the other hand, she’s more anxious about meeting my friends. Well, she already knows them, but you know… being the “commander” and all, she’s not exactly at ease.
- That’s strange, I think… I’ve been thinking since you talked to me this afternoon.
- About what?
- Well, you know, about that feeling you have regarding Lucy.
- And?
- Well, we’re in their hometown, right? What did you do the first time you went home during your first leave?
- Uh…
I frown, trying to remember. I’m not sure where she’s going with this, but I’ll play along.
- I spent time with Mapi, and we went out the next night.
- Exactly. They lived here until at least high school. Don’t you find it odd that Lucy or even Jenni never talk about their friends here? Of course, they have friends in Manchester, but they should have some here too, right?
The thought strikes me. Indeed, Lucy has never mentioned her friends. There’s Jenni, of course, but that’s it. Otherwise, she only talks about her family.
- Hasn’t Jenni ever talked to you about it either? I asked her.
- Well, no, but I’d never thought about it before. Only after what you said this afternoon.
I nod.
- It is strange, indeed...
- I’ll help you investigate if you want, but for now, we’d better change the subject. They’re coming back.
- Thanks, but it won’t be necessary. I’m sure Lucy will talk to me about it when she feels the need.
I turn to see them climbing the stairs. When they reach us, we stand up to let Jenni sit next to her girlfriend. I sit back down at the same time as Lucy, taking my drink and hot dog from her.
- Thank you, that’s sweet.
I give her a kiss, which she accepts with a smile I can feel against my lips. I appreciate that we still show affection for little things. It really expresses our feelings.
- You’re welcome.
- We almost got caught, comments Jenni. There were already a lot of people.
- It’s fine, the second half hasn’t started yet.
- Well, just barely, I point out to them.
The players are returning to the field. It’s crazy how everyone’s eyes are glued to their seats.
- Cool! Finally.
- Please, babe. Try to calm down. Our neighbors are going to lose their patience at this rate.
It’s true that we’ve had several disapproving looks between Alexia’s shouts and our laughter.
- Hmm… Anyway, I’m hungry, she says, taking a bite of her hot dog.
We eat ours while watching the second half. Alexia seems to have taken the hint because she remains much calmer during this time. Maybe it’s because the team managed to equalize as soon as they came back. It’s past eleven when the match finally ends. Everyone is in high spirits, singing along after the team’s victory. Alexia is in total euphoria.
- They fought like tigers! It was amazing.
- So, there’s no stopping her, I tease softly.
- At least she brings good vibes.
I snuggle closer to Lucy, who keeps me close against her. A huge crowd has formed to exit the stadium. It’s a good way to avoid getting lost on our way out.
- We could still go for a drink, my friend suggests.
- Oh, it’s almost midnight, her girlfriend points out. We’re all exhausted.
She looks at us for support. She really seems drained. After all, she’s been working non-stop to get the gym ready to open on time. It must be something, considering she still works another job to cover her rent.
- Well… Why not? Lucy responds. Our car is downtown anyway. Unless you’re too tired, Jenni.
- You’re abandoning me now? I thought we were supposed to stick together!
My girlfriend chuckles softly.
- Sorry, but I thought it was a good idea.
- Come on, babe, Ale pleads. You’re not going to be a party pooper, are you? Even Lucy said yes!
She sighs, running a hand over her head.
- We won’t stay long, I assure her.
- Fine, she mutters. Let’s go then. But I really don’t want to stay out late. I won’t be able to keep up all week otherwise.
- You’re amazing! I promise we won’t stay long!
She leads the way, almost skipping. Lucy laughs at Jenni’s exasperated look.
- Really, Lucy? What’s gotten into you?
- Oh come on, relax. It’s just a beer. You’ll have time to sleep tomorrow morning.
- Hmm. You’ll pay for this.
I smile as I watch them closely. I know they’re close, but I think I’m starting to understand why now… I just don’t know the reasons yet. I hope Lucy will tell me soon, otherwise I’m not sure I’ll be able to resist investigating, and I doubt she’ll appreciate that.
#woso#lucy bronze#woso community#ona batlle#barca femeni#woso soccer#lionesses#sefutbol fem#ona batlle x lucy bronze
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Eight
Professor!Steve Harrington x fem!OC
Illicit Affairs Masterlist
Daphne meets some important people. Steve drops by during the sorority bake sale.
“Aren’t they cute?” She asked as she held up the cookie, proudly showing it off, “I should’ve been a baker.” She smiled as she looked at the sugar cookie between her fingers, showing off the sprinkles over the frosting. She definitely wasn’t good at piping, but she had done her best.
“All you did was put icing on it.” Lila looked over, raising her eyebrows in disdain before she worked on bagging up her lopsided cake pops. Daphne hoped she choked on them. The bake sale had barely started and she already wanted to go home.
Their table was decorated cutely, filled with frills and little hearts to show off the desserts they had all created. Gillian had baked a little tres leches cake, full of strawberries that she’d cut to look like hearts. Daisy had settled for lemon squares and brownies, both perfect looking. They were also a recipe from her mother.
She’d tried time and time again to get along with her, but it just never worked out. They were too different. And she was pretty sure LIla wanted to kill her. They had started off as roommates their first year of university before Gillian and Daisy were so sweet to swap. Things hadn’t been so bad since then. But the hatred was mutual.
“It looks nice,” Gillian nodded her head, trying to keep the tension at bay, “Both items.” She smiled as kindly as she could, but her dark eyes were tense. She already knew that the situation could go very wrong.
They had all dressed similarly, but her and Daisy looked the closest due to their white cowgirl boots. Daisy wore a short red dress, showing off her curves that Daphne was very jealous of. Everything just felt flat against her, as Lila had so kindly reminded her earlier.
She had settled on a pink dress with puffy shoulders, although she now hated it. Lila wore a yellow dress that fit annoyingly well against her tanned skin, meanwhile Gillian had settled on a light blue one.
“Are you expecting someone?” Daisy whispered, blue eyes inquisitive as she leaned in close. Daphne stalled, pretending like she wasn’t searching through the crowd for a pair of familiar brown eyes.
“Absolutely not,” She mumbled as she straightened out her cookies again, “Just seeing which tables are doing better.” She tapped her nails against the table, bitterly reminded of how she had gotten fresh paint there too. She was probably far overdressed.
“Mhm, right,” Daisy shook her head before she rested her hand on her waist, “It’s written all over your face.” She moved her hand in a big circle, gesturing towards Daphne's head. She did her best not to scoff. Daisy was right in a very annoying way.
“I’m hopeless,” She admitted, sighing deeply, “What’s wrong with me?” She groaned as she dropped her head, wondering how she was supposed to move on. She felt like a magnet that was drawn only towards him.
“It’s cute.” Daisy teased her, speaking to her as she sold another bunch of her desserts. She was better at it than anyone else was.
“He’s not interested,” She whispered low enough so Lila couldn’t hear them. She didn’t need her pointing out any reasons as to why he’d be uninterested in her, “But it’s fine.”
She served up cookies, smiling brightly and reminding people to vote for them. It was always easier to sell things to men. They were easy. You just had to smile a little wider, play a little dumb and act like they were interesting. It was a work out, but it usually succeeded.
She glanced around, her heart flipping roughly inside of her chest as she spotted a familiar face. Thick brown hair, warm skin and soft eyes. His pink lips pulled into a smile, making her stomach clench roughly at the way his gaze landed upon hers.
But then she stalled, confusion sweeping through her as she looked at the way his hand was attached to a little redhead with icy blue eyes and pink freckles on her cheeks. She grinned brightly, exposing her missing teeth as she turned her head up towards him. She was just a bit taller than his hip.
“Thewe’s cookies!” She exclaimed as she walked forward, breaking free from his grip as she pressed her little fingertips onto the table. Her blue eyes were filled with curiosity, perhaps a little bit of mischief as she stared down at the other desserts lining at the table. Thank God the other girls were too busy selling their desserts to see Daphne falling apart.
“I see that,” He chuckled, “See, I told you there would be something better than lollipops.” He gave her head a little tap, making her look up in surprise. Daphne felt her lips part, trying to recall where he had mentioned having kids.
The sound of crying disrupted their moment, making him quickly turn away before he began to dig into the stroller that she had missed in her surprise. Not one kid. But at least two. Oh boy.
“You have kids?” She spit out in disbelief, watching the way he balanced another little girl on his hip. He gave her a little bounce, making her strawberry blonde hair bounce around. She was maybe a little older than one, but her eyes looked dark enough that Daphne was desperate to compare them to Steve’s. Just to make sure.
“What?” He looked at her surprised, brown eyes widening, “Oh no. No, I’m just watching them this afternoon for my friend.” He explained quickly, holding his free hand out and giving it a quick shake. She sighed deeply in relief.
“My mommy and daddy are on a date!” The little red head piped up, smiling brightly as Daphne turned her attention down towards her. She nodded her head in agreement, feeling a little bit better suddenly.
“Well how sweet,” She grinned as she leaned over, “What’s your name?” She asked, flicking her eyes towards the way Steve lightly dragged her off of the table.
“Cherry.” She responded, looking down at her fingers in confusion as little pieces of glitter had rubbed off on her skin. Daphne thought it was a bit odd at first, but something about her little features really did resemble the fruit. It made sense.
“Oh how pretty.” She praised her, feeling a little giddy at the way Cherry wrapped her arms around Steve’s leg. Okay, she could’ve definitely handled him being a dad. He certainly had that rugged look to him too.
He mumbled something, struggling to get the pacifier in the youngests mouth. She eventually took over, gripping it from his hands before she popped it into her mouth on her own. Then she sighed deeply and dropped her head onto his shoulder.
“And then this is Lottie and uh-,” He stalled as he turned the stroller around, “Ella.” He shook his head, making the other girl freeze from where she was trying to free herself from her restraints. She looked to be between the ages of the other two girls.
“Mhm.” She grumbled as she fell back in her spot, crossing her arms angrily over her chest. Daphne stood up on her tippy toes, examining her blonde curls.
“She’s a runner,” He explained as he rubbed at his chin, “Are you going to run again?” He asked her, tilting his head as he looked down at the little girl.
“Maybe.” She replied slowly, narrowing her dark eyes as he sighed deeply. She had her feet and hands pressed up against the cupholder. She looked determined, like she was going to successfully make a break for it. He turned the stroller around, straightening out a little bit.
“Yeah,” He shrugged his shoulders, “Sorry to bombard you.” He apologized gently, watching her for a moment like he needed to be reassured that this was okay. It was far more than okay in her book.
“I’m not upset about it,” She told him truthfully, “I’m very glad you came. And that you brought such special guests.” She gestured towards the little girls again, trying not to look too much into it. But it certainly felt like something. He’d brought some very special people to meet her after all.
“Sort of got forced on me,” He admitted, “But I do like hanging out with them.” He gave Lottie a bounce, brushing his fingers across her ribs as she giggled loudly.
“I like cookies.” Cherry commented as she rested her elbows on the table, leaning over to get a good look at them. Daphne was suddenly glad that she had wrapped them, a little afraid that Cherry might try and touch them.
“Hm,” She looked at the colors on the cookies, “I think pink will match you best.” She said as she held it up, pretending to compare the color to her hair.
“Thank you,” She giggled softly, “Ella likes -,”
“Blue!” Ella shouted, still trying to use all of her strength to break out of the stroller. She tried to wiggle it back and forth, just barely making the wheels move.
“Then here’s a blue one too,” She nodded along, smiling, “What does your other sister like?” She questioned, looking at where the youngest was bouncing her feet against Steve’s leg.
“What do you think, Lottie?” He asked, bouncing her softly as she looked down at the colors. She looked back towards him, holding her palms up in confusion.
“Yellow,” Cherry answered confidently, “Duh, uncle Stevie.” She held her little hands on her hips, giving him a pointed look.
“Yeah, Uncle Stevie it’s obviously yellow.” Daphne teased in response, liking the little nickname they gave him. He met her eyes for a brief second before he traveled to her lips, making her heart lurch in response.
“Can I have my cookie?” Ella asked softly from her stroller, holding her hands up over her head.
“Do you want another taste of freedom?” He asked as he looked down into the stroller, raising his eyebrows as he waited.
“Yesh, please.”
“Stay with your sister,” Steve commanded as he sat Lottie down, giving her a stern look before he moved to the stroller, “You promise you won’t run?”
“Yesh.” Ella complied, holding her arms out as Steve worked on unstrapping her from the stroller. Daphne couldn’t help but admire his soft muscles, the way his back curved as he bent over to pick her up. God. She was attracted to every part of him.
She spotted movement in the corner of her eye as Lottie wobbled over, pacifier dangling across her little tummy as her big hazel eyes looked around. She briefly acknowledged Daphne’s wave before she sidestepped her, stopping right in front of Daisy.
“Oh, hi. What do you want?” Daisy asked, almost jumping back as she looked down at the little girl. Lottie’s lips curled into a gummy smile, showing off the little teeth in her mouth as drool fell from her lips.
“Daisy,” Daphne chided quickly, “She’s just a little baby.” She grinned, holding onto her knees and leaning down as Lottie threw her hands up over her head. She giggled, nearly stumbling back until Daphne balanced her once again.
“She’s cute,” She replied as she curled her nose up, “Why is she staring at me?” She asked curiously, eyes a little wide as Lottie reached for her hand. Steve snapped his head up then, cursing as he tried to get Ella to sit still.
“Maybe you’re funny looking.” Lila snorted from the other side of the table, leaving Gillian smacking at her arm.
“Or you look like her mom.” Daphne suggested, tilting her head as Lottie tried to offer her pacifier up to Daisy. Daisy smiled, squatting down just enough to pat the top of her head.
“Uh,” Steve glanced over, ensuring that the other two girls weren’t about to run off before he shook his head, “Not really. She’s just curious. Sorry.” He apologized as he lifted Lottie up, earning a little squeak from her.
He shifted her around a bit, shuffling her awkwardly as she refused to twist her arms and legs in the right direction. He huffed once he got her in the correct position, wincing as her fat fingers fell to his hair. Daphne was completely enamored.
“She’s cute,” She replied softly, “You’re really sweet for watching them. Are they Robin’s?” She asked, poking the top of Lottie’s tiny shoe. Daisy agreed softly, bumping her hip against Daphne’s before she worked on distracting the other two.
“Oh God no,” He shook his head as he fumbled for the money in his wallet, “She’s not ready for kids yet.” He chuckled as he moved to the other side of the table, cursing as he dropped his wallet.
“That’s a bad wowd!” Cherry spoke up, blue eyes wide as Steve finally managed to pull his dollar bills free. He sighed deeply as he dropped the money into Daphne’s palm, his fingertips lingering against her skin.
“I know that.” He replied underneath his breath, brown eyes full of mischief as she felt her heart somersaulting inside of her chest. She breathed in deeply, just to confirm that she still knew how to do it.
“That’s a dollar.” Ella replied as she held her palm open, making grabby fingers towards him. A group of freshmen pushed by, stumbling towards Daisy and her pretty smile.
“Ookie!” Lottie demanded, looking distraught as her eyes fell down to her older sister’s who were munching on theirs. He worked quickly, stumbling with the wrapper before Daphne reached forward to unwrap it for him. She chewed on her inner cheek, fully aware of his eyes lingering on her movements.
“I better get going.” He mumbled as he turned away, stepping aside so more people could pile forward. She knew it was a good thing that people were keeping them busy so they didn’t look suspicious, but she really hated it. She wished she could speak to him without so many listening ears.
“I get it,” She smiled, watching and he broke off part of the cookie and gave it to Lottie, “You’re good with them.” She stated, watching the way Lottie shoved as much of the cookie into her mouth as she could.
“I’m overwhelmed,” He laughed as he brushed the crumbs off of his shirt, “But we’re having fun.” He nodded as he gestured towards the girls who were too busy licking the icing off of the cookies to pay attention to what he was saying.
“Good. I’m glad you came by,” She bit her lip softly, “And it was nice to meet you girls!” She waved at them, watching the way they turned their heads in surprise.
“What do you guys say?” Steve added, gesturing towards them as little smiles broke out on their lips. Even Lottie was grinning, but she was also slowly gumming at her cookie. Perhaps too lost in sugar land to really be paying attention.
“Thank you!” Ella and Cherry spoke up at the same time, their fingers linked before they pointed off to where they wanted to go next. Steve nodded his head in agreement, holding up his index finger as he turned towards Daphne once again.
“See you in class.” He smiled kindly, so softly that she felt like her knees might buckle. She nodded her head quickly, wondering if there were any lines she should be reading between.
“Soon,” She promised with a nod of her head, “You have fun. I hear the band is pretty good.” She smiled as she looked towards the stage. He opened his mouth, but quickly shut it as Ella tugged him along.
She watched him walk away for a moment before she was roughly reminded of the present she had made for him. Her eyes widened as she stalled for a second, reaching for it frantically and rushing around the table.
“Wait,” She grinned as she approached, holding the cookie that she had made specific for him, “Here’s yours.” She nearly felt bashful as she shoved it out in his direction, hoping that he would like it. Maybe he didn’t like cookies? But at least she’d tried.
“I didn’t pay for it.” He replied in confusion as he furrowed his eyebrows together. Lottie stared down at it, eyes wide as she reached a little hand out for it.
“It’s for helping me out on my paper,” She reassured him quickly, “It’s on the house.” She held it out again, holding her breath as his fingers brushed against hers. Sparks of electricity spread through her hand, up her arm.
“Well thank you,” He smiled softly, “I appreciate it.” He held it to his chest, away from where the little girls were trying to grab it.
“I appreciate you,” She said gently, eyes widening as she realized what it might mean, “All of your hard work. I’m glad you’re not letting me fail your class.” She held her palms together, giving him a reassuring smile. She didn’t want him to think she was throwing herself at him again. Not this time.
“Stevie!” Ella whined as she tugged on his hand, pulling him towards the stage. Her dark eyebrows were pulled together tightly, her lips smeared with the icing from the cookie.
“See you around.” He grinned, sending her one last warm look before he turned around for good. She let her eyes linger for just a moment before she turned, packing up her pride and heading back to her little booth. She couldn’t be too obvious.
“A family man,” Daisy teased as she returned, “Sounds perfect for you.” She gave her shoulder a little nudge, making a blush form on her cheeks.
“Shh,” She giggled, nudging Daisy as she shook her head, “It’s not like that. I was just being nice.” She nodded her head, moreso trying to reassure herself as she sold another cookie to someone.
“What’s your deal with him?” Lila asked accusingly, swirling her head around. Daphne blinked in surprise.
“There’s no deal.” She stated easily, keeping her composure calm. Lila was clearly trying to get underneath her skin, just as she always did.
“Sure.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes as she turned away once again. Daphne met Daisy’s eye, giving her a knowing look.
“There’s not,” Daisy defended quickly, “She’s just trying to get a good grade by giving the guy a free cookie. Geez.” She laughed as she brushed it off once again, but Lila was already rolling her eyes again.
“You’re not really using bribes, are you Daphne?” Gillian asked, “I can help you if you’re struggling.” She offered, looking worried suddenly. Daphne shook her head.
“Oh my God,” She huffed, “It was a cookie! One cookie.” She didn’t think it was that big of a deal. It was just a little sweet treat. He could’ve just left her to fail or drop out.
“A giant cookie.” Gillian added with a pointed finger, making her scoff once again. Since when was a cookie such a big deal?
“He’s helping me not fail my class.” She reminded the both of them, trying to pretend like they were reading into it too deeply. She was being respectful of Steve’s boundaries. She was just being nice.
“I had his class last semester,” Lila replied as she crinkled her nose up, “It was not a hard class.” She crossed her arms, her features wrinkling up in her judgy little way. Daphne inhaled deeply, choosing to be mature and ignore them instead. No one was going to damper her mood. Not after her interaction with him, not when she still felt like she was floating.
#Steve Harrington#Steve Harrington x fem!OC#Steve x Daphne#Steve Harrington x Original Character#Steve Harrington x female original character#Steve Harrington fluff#Steve Harrington slow burn#Professor!Steve Harrington#Teacher x student#Professor x student#Illicit Affairs#Modern AU#Daphne Williams#Steve Harrington fic#Steve Harrington fanfiction#Steve Harrington series#Steve Harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfic
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My Best Friend's Girl - Walt "Finn" Finnegan x Reader
a/n: not my greatest work or anything, but i finally got around to writing something for my fave 80s man. I have a serious hang up on anything 80s so don't be surprised if more of this comes up. Also a little inspired by My Best Friend's Girl by The Cars.
pairing: Walt "Finn" Finnegan x reader
warnings/content: swearing, McReynolds cheating (sorry y'all, had to make it work for the story), Finn being "mr. steal yo' girl" on him, pure cheesy fluff.
word count: 1.8k
As your friends danced away in the middle of the bar, you stood back, sipping your rum and coke, savouring every taste as you kept your eyes forwards. Your brow furrowed as Renegade by Styx blared from the juke box from somewhere at the back of Sound Machine, the bar on campus. The SouthEast Texas University baseball team had not long entered the room, trying their charms on any and every girl they saw. You weren’t falling for it though, you’d decided. You’d seen them in action, a couple of the freshmen players managing to charm your friends into dancing and drinks, but you weren’t easily fooled. You knew they were only after one thing from the women on campus, and you weren’t giving it up easily. Your standards are much higher than that, you thought to yourself.
You looked around the room once again, trying to keep tabs on where your friends were before either of them agreed to go home with one of the college boys who’d secured their attention. You weren’t about to let either girl go home with some freshman baseball player who could barely tie his own cleats. You’d recently broken up with your own baseball player prior to the start of the school year, and you couldn’t help but cringe whenever you caught a glimpse of him or his teammates and their sleazy pick up methods. Your brows knit together into a glare as you saw one of your ex’s teammates, Walt Finnegan, or Finn as everyone knew him by, was staring at you. Finn’s lips curled into a grin under his thick, blonde mustache, his shaggy hair was clearly styled to match his. You looked away, avoiding his stunning green eyes as he looked in your direction again.
As the opening bars of Two Tickets to Paradise began filling the room, you finished your drink. Looking up, you noticed that Finn was approaching you. His charming eyes and million dollar smile were on full display as he sauntered over, his shirt unbuttoned just enough to show off his tanned skin, the sleeves rolled just enough to accent his biceps, clearly in an effort to show off his commitment to the game and workout regime he’d given himself. He was never the greatest player on the team, but as their first baseman, he did a pretty decent job holding his own, and everything he lacked on the field, he made up for in charm and charisma. Even you couldn’t fully resist his charms, despite how badly you wanted to. You frowned as Finn danced his way up to you, his hips swaying in time with the music. Christ, he was a good dancer. You couldn’t deny it, Finn was good, but you refused to let him sway you tonight.
“Hey there, pretty thing, what’re you doing here by yourself? Come back to show McReynolds what he’s missin’ out on?” Finn’s voice was smooth as he spoke. He was always a fast-talker, but this time, it was like he purposefully was talking slow to make a point, like he was trying to give you no choice but to focus your attention on him.
“Please, Finn, I don’t give a rat’s ass what McReynolds does with his time now, I broke it off with him for a reason.”
“Yeah, trust me, I heard about it. We all heard about it.”
“My condolences. Can you leave me alone now, please?”
“No, you haven’t even heard why I wanted to talk to you yet!” Finn pouted his lips slightly as he spoke. He leaned his body against the wall and grinned at you as he put his hand beside your head, framing your body between him and the corner of the room.
“I’ll bite then, why do you want to talk to me, Finn?”
“‘Cause, I think we both like watching McReynolds sweat a little. Plus, I saw you looking at me like that. Trying to look like you’re not bothered by the fact I’m here. You and I both know we had something before you met him.”
“We had nothing, Finn. Nothing.”
“Are you sure about that, sweets? Why not show me just how nothing it really was?”
Finn’s hand snaked its way around your waist, pulling you in tightly to his body. You let out a sharp exhale of air as you felt your bare back press against his shirt, his body radiating heat against yours. You could smell his musk scented cologne, strong, yet masculine as it surrounded you. His hand on your bare waistline was enough to drive your senses wild, and as much as you wanted to hate the sensation of his skin on yours, you couldn’t bring yourself to shove him away from you. It was as if some sick, twisted part of you craved him, despite the fact that Finn was your ex’s best friend. Then again, clearly that fact didn’t bother Finn too much either.
“Finn, we can’t do this,” You mumbled as you felt him press his nose to your neck, “McReynolds is gonna kill you.”
“I can handle myself, don’t you worry, darlin’,” Finn’s voice was like velvet, rich and smooth as he spoke, dripping with confidence and self assurance, “Besides, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?”
You frowned, biting your lip as Finn spoke before finally giving your head a shake. You tilted your head to face him, his green eyes full of lust and longing as they met with yours. You’d never noticed before today just *how* green his eyes were, but now that they were so close to you, you couldn’t notice anything else. The signature grin still painted on his face, Finn pulled you in closer to him, his breath hot on your neck as he whispered against your ear.
“I still haven’t heard a no from you yet, babydoll. Whatd’ya say?”
You felt Finn spin you around to face him, hips moving perfectly in sync with the music playing in the background. At this stage, Finn’s presence had completely disoriented your focus and no amount of concentration could tell you what song was playing, what colour the lights were on the dance floor or where your friends were at this point, all you saw, all you knew in that moment was Finn. Finn, your ex’s best friend with the million-dollar man smile and sun-kissed tanned skin. Finn, with his perfectly styled hair that he always spent at least 30 minutes on perfecting with a round brush and hair dryer every morning, and his mustache that he sat and brushed out with a fine toothed comb, trimming anything that seemed out of place. Finn, with his stunning green eyes and overwhelming all-consuming confidence, and his ability to never be able to stop talking about anything and everything.
“I don’t know that this is the smartest scheme you’ve ever come up with. What exactly did McReynolds do to piss you off to the point where you want to use me to get back at him?” You finally retorted back.
“Maybe letting a girl as good as you go is all he had to do to piss me off this time.”
Finn’s words lingered in the air for a moment, replaying in your mind over and over as you gave them some thought. You let out a frustrated sigh as you shook your head, arms folding across your chest as you looked at him.
“Finn, stop it.”
“Stop what? I’m being honest.”
“You’re pissed off at Mac for letting me dump him?”
Finn sighed and ran his hands over his face before shaking his head in exasperation. He shook his head before reaching his arms out, placing his hands on your shoulders with a firm, yet gentle touch, as if he was trying to get you to reason with him.
“Listen to me for a second, ok?” He breathed out a heavy sigh before speaking again.
“Look,” Finn’s green eyes stared at you with a newfound level of intensity as he spoke in soft, hushed tones, as if he didn’t want anyone overhearing your conversation together, “I know why you and Mac split, ok? I saw him when you did it, and he told me. I know everything - the cheating, the lying, how you walked in on him, trust me, I know all of it, babe.”
“So…you know how I walked in on him with some other girl in your house then?”
“All of it. And honestly? I told him he was a real fuckin’ dick for it too. I may be a bit of a...casanova, but I’ve never cheated. There’s a reason I stay single. No one’s feelings get hurt if I move on, ‘cept maybe my own, but that’s besides the point.”
You frowned and sighed, shaking your head as you blinked away the lone tear developing in the corner of your eye. You looked up to see Finn in a new light, an air of vulnerability clouding over him, as if he was opening himself up to you and at the same time, you felt your own vulnerability closing in. You felt Finn’s hand on your cheek, guiding your face upwards to look at him. He gently pulled you in to him, his lips pressing to yours in a gentle, passionate kiss. Your lips lingered on his for a moment before pulling back, your eyes wide in shock as you look up at him.
“W-what the fuck was that?” You whispered, a soft, awkward laugh escaping your lips.
“Me, showing you that I’d never treat you the way Numb-nuts over there would,” He nodded as he let out a hearty chuckle.
“Finn…”
“Mhmm, that’s my name, baby, don’t wear it out,” He smirked as he tucked a strand of hair back behind your ear.
“You’re something else, you know that?”
“You know, I have been told that. It’s part of my charm, apparently.”
“Come on, let’s get the fuck outta here, before McReynolds smartens up or sobers up and realizes I just made a move on ya,” Finn takes your hand and grins as he leads you outside.
Under the stars, feeling the mild southern Texas breeze against your skin, you and Finn walk out together. Looking up at the sky, you take it all in, letting out a soft audible sigh as you nod your head once.
“Finn, I never thought I’d say this about you, but you know, you’re a pretty decent guy.”
Finn shook his head, laughing as he looked over to you, his signature smile appearing again. He threw an arm around you playfully and shrugged his shoulders.
“You know what, I feel like McReynolds might argue with you on that one.”
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Things I Hope/d to See in the New ATLA Live Action Show
A source material-accurate Azula (duh) and Aang (the show's namesake!) with something extra added to both. See #7 and #8 for more on that.
Tweaked war-related plans that come across like they could reasonably be implemented in real life and which may be based on/allude to actual battle proposals from throughout history. I know little about these sorts of things but others have pointed out before that one of Sokka's plans, for example, may not have actually made much sense. And Ozai's plan near the end? Yeeaaahhhhh... I mean, I kinda get it in hindsight. But still. Let's have him come up with something better than that.
Appearances and clothing that call back to the ethnic groups and cultures that the show takes inspiration from (things are looking great on this front so far), but also
Eye colors like the ones from the original cartoon. This may seem petty but I find that it's actually important to use the right hues for each character and not just make everyone's eyes brown or black or gray (looks to me like that's exactly what they did). The reason being that, although I personally tend to dislike when non-white characters are given what I now call "white qualifiers" (meaning traits often used to make them still appeal to whiteness, such as light hair, light eyes, bone-straight hair, round eyes, etc.), in the context of the show, the eye colors are actually by and large ethnic characteristics and differentiators themselves. As I've noted before in a previous post from a while back: Ocean blue eyes = Water Tribes, brown and gray = usually Air Nomad or Earth Kingdom, amber or light tan = Fire Nation, with few exceptions for all of them.
Enough similarities for it to feel like ATLA but with enough differences that it's actually its own story. Again, duh, but we all know how often adaptations tend to get this part wrong.
An age rating that won't be used as just another excuse to shoehorn in as much violence, gore and sexual content as possible but instead to allow for the full illustration of the impact that war can have on a people and their society/traditions. We saw, imo, only little hints of this throughout the cartoon (when Aang found Monk Gyatso's remains is one extremely devastating example), but not near enough. I know the reason why, of course. However, things like that only helped sell the show short by not allowing it to fully flesh out into a world with true, viewable consequences.
An Azula who, from day one, is unquestionably made out to be exactly what she is: A child soldier who is also a victim of the war in a similar way to how the Gaang is. I want to see her allowed to show worry, even fear, either during or after a situation. Not because I don't love how kickass she is, but because at her age, level of trauma and amount of risk to her life everyday, she has all the reason to be more stressed from the get-go. Not to mention her family issues. I want Azula to clearly have anxiety or depression, something many of us can relate to. I also want that scene of her mental breakdown to STAY in some capacity, but be seen in-universe and hopefully—eventually—irl, too, as what it really was: A teenage girl pushed to her limits until she had no where left to step. Real, living people have had anxiety/panic attacks and meltdowns before and that didn't make them evil or any less worthy of sympathy. It only makes it that much more obvious how real Azula herself is, and how much she needed and deserved understanding.
I want an Aang who's allowed to cry, not once, not twice but over and over again as the weight of the burden of what it means to be a child avatar during a world war—and one who was out-of-commission for a century—start to take their toll on his mind, body and eventually spirit. After he reaches his breaking point, I want him to learn to forgive himself and even forgive others, and come back from it, stronger than ever.
A Toph who's tough but maybe a little less...umm... She should be/feel affected by the war too, okay? And have some level of guilt, fear or self-awareness at all times. So she should be like her original self, but deeper.
More Ursa pleeeaaaaaaassse. We know next to nothing about this woman and what we do know, still involves a lot of inferring. I need to know just what her beliefs were about the war and her family/relatives. I need to know if she...if she often feared for her or her children's lives!
A little less romance and a little more danger, planning and large platonic relationship growth as well as character growth.
Zuko actually learning something from his travels; early on, every time he meets someone/some new people, and on a regular basis. I also kinda want to see him have consequences for his actions. Not just that one time, where he was only a clueless 13 year old boy anyway. Doesn't have to be huge or bloody, but he needs to lose something every time he gains at the expense of another. The ATLA world (if not within the cartoon then definitely within the live action show) should have a real, tangible concept of Karma present, if it doesn't already. That would make so. much. sense.
If possible, a little more fleshing out of characters like Jet and the Freedom Fighters, Suki and the Kyoshi Warriors, Hama, Mai, Ty Lee, etc. And can we not demonize or shrug off victims anymore?
A still sexy Hakoda, Ozai and June. (I'm so sorry, don't hate me...)
An ending that won't make me break out in hives plez.
(That's it for now. I may come back here to add more.)
#ATLA#ATLA live action#Azula#Aang#Ozai#Ursa#Toph#Zuko#Jet#Hama#Mai#Ty Lee#Suki#Sokka#Katara#atla live action show#Avatar Netflix#Netflix Avatar#Netflix ATLA#Water Tribe#Earth Kingdom#Fire Nation#Air Nomads#Water TribeS#Avatar the Last Airbender#Avatar: The Last Airbender#Avatar the Legend of Aang#Avatar: The Legend of Aang#hopes and/or predictions#atla-recluse's tags
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Dead Friend Forever - Post Ep 8 Theory Recap
This has taken a few days because I wanted to get all my thoughts in order. This show continues to be amazing and it continues to make wheels spin in my head. I am very happy that more people are starting to watch this amazing show.
Firstly I wanted to shout out some amazing post I have seen since episode 8 came out:
First this post for all the people readings this that have not caught up with DFF and are worried about Triggers/Squicks and the horror stuff there is this post by @wen-kexing-apologist
This post about the argument between Non's parents by @fracturediron
This post analyzing the movie posters in Non and Jin's room and what that might mean for the plot @lukaherehelp and this other post about the posters here by @syrena-del-mar
These two posts by @mikuni14 here (which raises an important point I will eleborate on later) and here (about Non's fate, an opinion I share, aka Non is dead - Although I wouldn't personally put it past Dr Sammon to find a way to have kept him alive that makes sense, like @respectthepetty point out here both Dr Sammon and the Pit Babe writers are not strangers to a character being "dead" then revealed to be alive. Of course both writers have killed a character before, but under very different circumstances, so it's not like there is no hope at all)
And finally last but not least this theory about Tan being New that I find very interesting here by @tbhimnoteasyonmyself
Ok now onto my thoughts.
I wanted to take a moment to appriciate how nuanced the depiction of Non's breakdown was this episode. So many horror stories relay on mental illness and disability to make their killers scary or crazy or deformed, that I have been worried about how this story will use those aspect of Non going further. While those worries have not gone away completely. They have significantly calmed down.
The writing makes it really obvious that it wants us to root for Non, and wants us to be at his side, and it's also makes it very clear that Non's breakdown this episode was due to all the factors componding, the bullying, the thing with the mafia and the cops, the money, family pressure, the thing with the teacher, the thing with Phee, it all just came to a head together. The breakdown doesn't rely soley on his mental illness.
The next part I found very interesting this episode was the argument between the parents and the absense of Non's brother still.
I think the fact that we have not seen Non try to reach out to his brother for comfort at all makes me think that their parents (especially their Mom) different treatment of the two of them drove a wedge between them. Which is probably going to make New even more angry and guilty. @tbhimnoteasyonmyself pointed this out in his post and I agree I do not think New has been told about anything before Non went missing, and given the fact that he is abroad, he might have not have had the oppurtinity to come back before. Althought if he is in the USA then there should be a way for him to say to the University, my brother went missing I have to go back and be allowed to do that witouth a major impact on his school. So I am assuming he went back after Non was called missing. Either his parents caved and told him, or someone send him either the news or the video of his brother online and then he got his parents to tell him the truth.
I am very curious about his mental state and why he is being kept so secret. The fact that there are no pictures and Non doesn't talk about him can be explained by the extrangment in universe, but I am more curious about the narrative/out of universe benefits/reasons for introducing New so late in the game. If he is Tan then we lost valuable time with a memeber of the cast, and if he is not then that actor is going to have to work double time to sell us on his character in such a short ammount of time.
Which brings us to the big mysteries, the things I am most curious about besides New, which are 1) Why did it take them so long to get revenge? 2) How many killers are there, and what is their plan exactly?
Like @mikuni14 pointed out in the post I linked above, it seems really weird that it would take them 3 years to get to their revenge plan. It doesn't really feel like it would be all that complicated to get that bunch of boys drunk or high and get some information out of them. So why wait? What killed their momentum?
I read a post (that I can't find anymore sorry) talking about how Keng seem to be working for someone to get information on Tee's Uncle. And that got me thinking about the shot of the newspaper with the news about Tee's Uncle
Which I can't translate fully but seems to hint that the uncle is being investigated about money laundry.
So, what if whover was working with Keng (probably journalist) are helping Phee and New/Tan (writing them like that because I am not sure if they are the same person or not) investing their brother but in turn they have to help them with Tee's Uncle. I'll explain.
If my theory about three killers is correct, then New is going to be someone else, someone older. He and Phee are going to connect first. Then they are going to get caught snooping by whover is building a case against Tee's Uncle (I am leaning towards journalists, Dr. Sammon as used the investigative journalist characters before), in which case Tan could be working with this other person. And this person team (side not Perth, could be a member of this other team as well, he went from background in a shot to rubbing Tee's Uncle shoulders in the most recent episode) could coinvince Phee and New to help them, you help us with the this mafia guy we help you find out what happened to Non.
I think this theory works both with New being a third person and with Tan being the brother. It would just mean that they are getting helped by someone from this other team. I am voting for Perth because he has a connection to Tee and I have seen a lot of reactions video clips from the cast to various episodes and he is always with them, like he is playing an important role not just a random side character.
It could explain why it's taking them so long, they have to take out the Uncle first, he is the big shot, the real criminal, the one with the weapons. The one that actually knows what happened to Non. Which means that if he is dead, Phi and New might have just gotten confirmation on it, which would made them pretty damn angry. And it would mean that them asking questions to the boys was less about figuring out what they did and more get them to confess.
That is all I have for now. I really love how much this show is getting me to ask questions and giving me a push to make more posts. This show continues to be great and I can't wait to see the finale.
EDIT: Literally just saw this post on @respectthepetty's blong but apparently the Uncle is dead. I am going insane.
I think my theory still holds. I am definately sure there are three killers and Perth is helping the third killer or is the third killer (depending on If Non is alive, which is looking a bit more likely, if Tan is New or if New is someone else).
I now think that this other team/person that was getting Keng to help was not a journalist but had their own motivations. Like a vigilante maybe, someone who killed before and who would be 100% comfartable taking out a guy by decapitating him, like with Uncle Dang??
But it does makes sense it's taking them this long, Tee's uncle look like a big shot it must not be easy to take him out.
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With Madou 4 coming out, it made me think. That game (better) focus on only the Compile characters.
Now, both Madou Monogatari and early Puyo games had a good mix of low and high stakes. You had Madou Monogatari: Michikusa Ibun and Puyo Puyo Sun with low stakes for example. The Madou game has Arle and Carbuncle go dungeon crawling for fun, and Puyo Sun is just "Dark Prince wants to get laid. He enlarges the sun so he can get a tan to accomplish this. Beat him up."
But there was also games like Madou Monogatari 2 or Puyo Puyo~n. Madou 2 has Arle get captured by Schezo, and need to fight her way out, outright decapitatating two people, and struggling to survive. And Puyo Puyo~n has a dopplegaenger of Arle brainwash the Dark Prince (a very strong character), kidnap Carbuncle, and try to kill and replace Arle.
Good mix of high and low stakes for the games in The World Of Sorcery
But the games in Primp and Suzuran? Not so much.
Ringo's games, 7, 20th Anniversary, Tetris, and Tetris 2 are all high stakes. She has no low stakes games.
Amitie's games, Fever and Fever 2, are low stakes. Even though Fever 2 had the potential to be high stakes.
So with Madou 4 coming out for us Compile Era fans, I think there should also be a game that takes place solely in the Primp universe, with high stakes.
How to do this? Easy. We already have a Demon that was split in two for its crimes, sealed away due to its evil. Its spirit in a book, its body gaining a will of its own.
Basically, MAKE STRANGE KLUG EVIL AND A THREAT!
It annoys me that he's a joke. He wants to merge with Sig which would result in a death of personality for Sig, effectively KILLING HIM!
And in Puyo games, beings aren't sealed away for no reason. The Crimson Spirit is evil. Also, maybe we can learn it's name. The fandom (at least in the west) calls it Ayashii, but Ayashii is just the Japanese word for strange.
So my suggestion? Klug is with Amitie, maybe helping her study or something, when they stumble upon a way to unleash the Crimson Spirit, not knowing that will happen. Klug gets possessed and the spirit makes its intentions clear - first, merge with Sig, then enslave/take over/destroy/whatever the world!
Amitie sees Klug as a friend. And any harm done to this body will effect him, so she can't *kill* the spirit (not that she would think to do that. In fact, maybe Raffina suggests killing the spirit and Amitie brings this up). Strange Klug flies off, taking the book with him, maybe Klug's little spirit gets used as a hostage later or something I dunno. And Strange Klug reappears multiple times throughout the story!
So Amitie goes on a journey to find out how to reseal the demon, learning more about herself, her friends, her allies, and the dangers in her world. Maybe she finds out about her Puyo hat and why Ms. Accord gaslighted her into thinking all its magic was in her head.
But that's my pitch. As for a low stakes Ringo game, maybe Suzuran thinks Ecolo is a cryptid and a bunch of cryptid hunters try to attack Ringo because she's the only link to Ecolo. I dunno
#Madou Monogatari#Madou Monogatari 4#Puyo Puyo Fever#Amitie#Klug#Strange Klug#Possessed Klug#Ringo Ando#Ecolo#Puyo Puyo#eway talks
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every road leads back to you
pairing; steve harrington/ace!reader
rating; t
warnings; fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, second-chance romance
word count; 8.2k
masterlist
It’s all your fault because you aren’t looking where you’re going. Or maybe it’s your coworker Melanie’s fault, for raving about and lending you her copy of the book you can’t tear your eyes from even as you’re walking. Or maybe it’s Brian’s fault, for recommending the book to Melanie. Or maybe it’s the librarian’s fault, for picking it out for Brian.
Regardless, you aren’t looking and so you crash directly into someone.
As your face smushes against a chest, your book tumbles to the ground and you let out an unnecessary yelp. You immediately step back, leaning down for your novel as the other person does too, and you knock heads.
“Ow,” they say, and you freeze. A hand you recognize is holding the book out to you, paired with a familiar voice. You take it hesitantly and slowly straighten back up and look at who you desperately hope it isn’t.
But it is. It’s Steve Harrington.
Realization dawns in his eyes as he stares at you. He says your name in surprise and follows it up with a “Hi.”
You blink at him. Much too late, you reply, “Sorry for running into you,” with red cheeks and hot skin.
A nervous, awkward smile adorns his mouth. “It’s no trouble. I wasn’t looking either.”
You can’t take your eyes off him. He’s still so fucking pretty. You’d really hoped that after he broke your heart, you wouldn’t find him handsome anymore, but no such luck. His hair is gorgeous, his eyes are bright, his lips are perfectly kissable. He’s still toned and fit, tan from the summer sun.
“Hi, I’m Robin.” You finally look away from the specimen that is Steve to see there’s a girl with him. There’s no reason for your heart to twinge, but it does all the same.
You introduce yourself and shake her outstretched hand. Steve’s still looking at you, seemingly oblivious to the conversation until Robin—girlfriend?—elbows him hard. He jerks and glances back at her with a sheepish face and pink cheeks before clearing his throat.
“How are you?” He asks, almost earnestly.
“I’m fine,” you reply, unsure. You’ve heard through the grapevine that Steve has changed somehow, possibly for the better, giving up his King ways and treating people with something like kindness and respect. It all sounds nice but you’ll believe it when you see it. Maybe you’re seeing it now.
“Good,” he says forcefully, like it’s what he wanted to hear. “Congrats on graduating. Heard you were at the top of your class, that’s great.” How is he getting this information about you? Robin eyes him but he pointedly ignores her. “Where’d you go again?”
If he knows your class rank, why doesn’t he know the school? “Butler University,” you supply, confused. Steve smiles and you get it—he did know. He just wanted to make you say it. You think he might be making fun of you, but then he glances at Robin and raises his eyebrows, and you blush when you realize he’s trying to impress Robin with your achievements.
“Um, thanks, I guess.” You clear your throat and change the subject. “What are you up to?” You want to say you’re asking to be polite but it’d be a lie. You wanna know.
“Not much. Robin and I work at Family Video, though she’s leaving me soon for another job.”
He smiles when she rolls her eyes. “We still live together, Dingus. We’ll see each other all the time.” Live together? That’s pretty serious.
“It’s not the same,” Steve responds with a fake-sad teasing tone. Robin looks at you like she’s done with his shit and you have to hold back a giggle. Steve grins at you with a distracting twinkle in his eye when he notices.
“Besides,” Robin adds haughtily, “you are also leaving FV soon.”
Now Steve’s bashful, as you turn to look at him expectantly, and it’s oddly endearing. “Yeah, to spend money, not make it. I’m going to school,” he clarifies for you.
“Business school!” Robin jumps in loudly.
“At the community college,” he rushes to finish. “Nothing fancy.” You bite your cheek at how he’s downplaying something impressive.
“I am allowed to be proud of my best friend,” Robin scolds him and your mind races. If they’re dating, why would she use those words? Sure, couples can be best friends, but is that really the descriptor they would use?
You shake away the thoughts and agree. “It’s something to be proud of, Steve.”
“See?” Robin grins at you. “I like you already. Do you wanna come with us? We’re getting lunch.”
A look of panic flashes over Steve’s face before it disappears, disheartening you. Though you don’t really want to go either. And you can’t. “I have my shift at the library soon. That’s where I’m heading now.”
Robin nods, looking glum. Interestingly, Steve also looks disappointed. “We can let you get going then,” he says. “Sorry again about running into you.”
“Partly my fault too,” you reply, and the three of you do the awkward dance of switching places on the sidewalk. When you’re finally in the right spot, you give them a wave. “See you around.”
“Bye!” Robin calls out.
Steve smiles shyly. “Later.”
And with that, you go on your ways.
;
“What was that?” Robin demands. She and Steve are sitting in their regular booth, regular drinks in front of them and regular meals ordered. She’s staring at him with an expectant expression.
“Uh, our waitress?”
Her eyes narrow. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
He sighs. He does know. “We used to date.”
He says it quietly, with feigned lightness, but it doesn’t work. Robin’s eyebrows go even higher. “Date? When?”
“During King Steve.” His mouth twists at the memory. “It was for a couple of months. Didn’t end great. Kinda my fault.”
“Kinda?”
“Okay, all my fault.”
“What happened?”
Steve looks down at the table and plays with his straw wrapper. “I sorta dumped her when she wouldn’t sleep with me.” He winces when he hears Robin’s gasp. “I know. I wasn’t very nice about it either.”
“Steven Edward Harrington!”
“That’s not my middle name,” he mutters.
She goes on with a glare. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Look—“ He ducks when her straw comes flying at him. “Look! I regret it, okay? I feel bad about it. I have since I did it.”
“Did you apologize?” Her eyes are blazing holes into his forehead; he’s still looking down. He shakes his head. "Why the fuck not?"
“I don’t know, so much time has passed. Thought it might be more awkward.”
“You know what’s more awkward? Not apologizing and still having feelings for her.”
Steve jerks his head up. “What?” He sputters. “No, I don’t.”
“I’m not blind, Harrington. I saw that entire interaction.” She pretends to be all moony-eyed. “Oh, where did you go to school again? So I can brag that you graduated at the top of your class?” She drops the act and looks at him.
“I didn’t sound like that.” But he’s unsure. He did know where you went to school and didn’t need to ask. He did want Robin to be impressed. And you're just as gorgeous as you were when he had that hopeless-but-turns-out-not-really crush on you. He can still remember the surprise he’d felt when he learned you liked him too, it had floored him. He couldn’t believe his luck. He still couldn’t believe it after you'd become official.
But thoughts of your relationship bring back memories of how it ended, and he’d blocked those from his mind for a reason. He closes the box and pushes it away again, and continues, “Doesn’t matter. It’s ancient history.”
“If you say so.” She says it like she agrees, but there’s something in her tone that makes him think she knows something he doesn’t.
“What?” He asks.
She eyes him with fake innocence. “Nothing. It’s history. I won’t bring it up again.”
“Robin,” he growls. “What is it?”
“I don’t know.” She steals the straw from his drink and places it in her glass, swirling the liquid like she’s mixing a potion. “I just don’t think it’s done.”
“Why?”
“Oh, just the way she was looking at you. Like you hung the moon or something. And agreed with me that you should be proud of school. And her blush when you bragged about her. And her shy smiles when you grinned at her.”
He blinks at her. “That’s impossible. I broke her heart.” Badly, he doesn’t add.
She shrugs. “The heart wants what it wants.” She picks up her cup and sips delicately, watching him as he processes. Or tries to process; his brain feels like it’s melting. The box has exploded open and he can't contain everything that's now flooding back. Robin sighs as she sets the drink back down. “I think you should give it another try. Maybe it’ll work out. And if not, at least you’ll have apologized. Because you will apologize.”
She’s expectant again, and he nods meekly. Of course he’s going to apologize. He’s just not sure what he’s gonna say.
;
You’re thinking about ramming your head against the desk—you’ve been that bored for hours—when someone taps on the surface. You look up from your impossible crossword and straighten when you see Steve standing before you. He has a nervous smile and seems to be fidgeting. When he notices you’ve noticed, he places his hands in his pockets.
“Hi,” he says quietly.
“Hi,” you reply, surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to talk to you. Um, if that’s okay.”
You stare at him. You can feel the anxious energy rolling off of him and the longer you stay silent the more pleading his eyes become. Eventually, you nod. “Gimme a minute.”
Steve nods and waits as you disappear into the office and tell them you’re going on break. Since it’s dead, they don’t mind and so you meet Steve on his side of the desk.
“Outside?” He asks, thumb pointing to the doors.
“Sure.”
He leads the way, holding open each door for you and picking out a shady bench. You sit next to him hesitantly, unable to look him in the eye. What is he doing here?
Steve takes a deep breath and then says, “I’m here to apologize.”
Oh. “Why?”
“For how our relationship ended.”
You finally look up at him. “What?”
He has soft eyes. “That was really horrible of me, and I’m sorry. I’ve regretted it ever since, and I’m a coward for not apologizing sooner. It wasn’t right. None of it was. Well, except for everything before what I did. But it kinda ruins it all, doesn’t it?”
You’re not sure what to say. What he did was horrible. You can still remember all the mean things he’d said, when he’d dumped you and left you crying on your front porch. He hadn’t talked to you after that, and you'd both graduated like nothing had happened. It’d broken your heart. It was devastating. And yet…
“The stuff before that isn’t ruined,” you reply softly. Steve perks up. “It was a really good part. I, um, I liked that part.”
“Me too,” he breathes, like he can’t believe what you’re saying. You almost can’t believe it yourself. But the feeling of euphoria you’d felt after learning Steve Harrington had a crush on you too, when you realized it wasn’t a fantasy but something attainable, eclipses the heartbreak a bit. And your dates are still some of the best you’ve ever had; ones you’ve been on since just don’t hold up to them. And the sensation in your body, mind, and soul when you’d kissed him…ineffable.
So, no. Not ruined. “It did, um, hurt.” You avert your eyes and watch the leaves sway in the summer breeze for a minute. Steve seems content to wait and see if you have more to say. “But I understood,” you eventually add.
“What?” He sounds so confused that you have to look at him again. His brows are furrowed.
“Come on.” You laugh awkwardly. “A girlfriend who wouldn’t put out in high school? That’s a nightmare. I see why you dumped me.”
Steve blinks, and then his hands are grabbing yours and holding on tight. He says your name like he’s pained. “No. That is not a reason to break up with someone and it’s not why I broke up with you. It didn’t even matter to me that much. I ended things because my stupid friends kept making fun of me that we hadn’t had sex yet. I let them influence me into pressuring you and then dumping you when you wouldn't be pressured. That’s what I’m apologizing for. For not having enough of a spine to stand up to those idiots and fight for the only relationship that’s ever been worth anything to me.” He goes red when he realizes what he’s said. “I thought I needed to impress them, but I was wrong. And I lost you in the process.”
You gape at him. Before you can say anything, he’s continuing, “Also for what I said and how I did it. That wasn’t right either. I let them get into my head and speak for me. I didn’t even mean any of that stuff. That doesn’t make it right, I know, but I want you to know that. That I never meant what I said.”
He’s looking at you with those hazel eyes shining in the sun and a ashamed but hopeful expression, and holding your hands in his like he used to when you’d watch a movie together or have dinner, and you want to hug him so tight you might squeeze him to death.
So you do.
He’s caught unaware by it, by you leaping forward and hugging him hard, but he regains composure quite quickly and hugs you back. He exhales in relief and you giggle. It feels amazing to be back in his arms, and it ends much too soon. You both lean back and look at each other, smiling.
“Do you wanna get dinner sometime? Catch up?” Steve asks.
Your heart catches, but… “What about Robin?”
“Robin?” He looks confused but then it seems to dawn on him. “Oh! No, she’s not my girlfriend. She’s just my best friend. Has been for five years.”
You’re a little surprised but take it in stride. “Oh, okay. Dinner sounds good.”
He nods excitedly. “Maybe Friday night, 6pm? We can go to the diner. It’s our favorite.”
You smile at his eagerness. “Is 7 okay? I work until 6:30.”
“Of course! I can come pick you up here and walk you to the diner.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to,” he reassures, and you blush a little.
“If you insist,” you say reluctantly, and he grins in triumph.
At that moment, the door opens and your coworker sticks her head out. She motions for you to come back and then disappears. You sigh and stand, Steve following suit. “I gotta go.”
“No worries. I’ll see you Friday?”
You nod. “Friday.”
Steve smiles brightly and then starts walking away. You go to the door and open it, pausing to watch him leave. Your heart skips a beat when you see the happy skip in his step.
;
A knock on the door has you lifting your head from the last of your closing tasks. You see Steve, hair gleaming in the sun and sunglasses coolly covering his eyes. But they don’t hide the smile on his face, or the excited wave he sends through the glass. You smile back, motioning for him to give you one minute, and he nods. You rush through the rest of your agenda before rushing to grab your stuff and rushing out the door.
“Hi,” he says happily when you appear.
“Hi,” you reply softly, hiding your shy anxiety by focusing on locking the door. Once that’s done, you look back at him.
He's gorgeous. “Ready?”
At your nod, he sweeps out an arm for you to go first, and so you start the journey to the diner. He falls into step with you, strolling easily, like it’s effortless.
“How are you?” He follows up, as you pass the florist.
“Good. Tired, but who isn’t?” You attempt to joke. Before he can respond, you continue, “How are you?”
“I’ll be honest, I’m a little nervous.”
“What?” You can’t help your shocked laugh. “You’re nervous?”
He grins and nods. “Terrified.”
That knowledge relaxes you a bit, and some tension floods away. His arm brushes yours as you pass the pharmacy. You have to hide the shiver it sends down your spine.
“Here we are.” He slows to a stop and pulls open the diner door for you. You walk in with a grateful nod, noticing that it’s pretty empty, despite it being prime dinner time on a Friday night. Steve notices you looking around. “Football game. First of the year. That’s where everyone is.”
You look back at him but then the hostess comes up and takes you to a booth. You slide onto the red vinyl bench as he does the same opposite you. The butterflies start to swarm when you realize you’re alone with Steve Harrington on purpose for the first time in five years.
“Why aren’t you there?” You blurt out, immediately regretting it.
But Steve doesn’t look bothered. “At the game?” He shrugs. “Football’s never been my thing really. I’d rather be here with you.” The butterflies threaten to make their way up your throat when he smiles widely.
You look down at your menu with a blush. “So,” you say a little too loudly, “what’s good here?”
“The classics. Burger, fries, milkshake. Vanilla only though.”
You make a face. “Absolutely not. Chocolate or bust.”
Steve holds a hand to his chest like he’s clutching a string of pearls. “You heathen. Don’t you dare disrespect vanilla in my house.”
“I’ll do what I like,” you shoot back. He laughs.
“Just as sassy, I see,” he teases. “At least you’re not like Robin. She only goes for a strawberry milkshake.” You stick out your tongue in disgust and he nods. “Exactly! It’s horrifying.”
Your mouth twists to hold back a huge grin. He can tell and lets his own blossom. The waitress comes over and takes your order—vanilla milkshake for him and chocolate for you—before whisking the menus away. Steve sets his hands on the surface, fingers intertwined.
“So,” he says, “how was work?”
“Slow, oh my god. No one comes to the library on Fridays, I swear.”
“‘Cause they’re all at Family Video,” he replies.
“Really?”
“Oh, yeah. It was nonstop today. Everyone wanted movies for the weekend and wanted to get it done before the game. I even had to break up a fight between two old ladies over the last copy of Dirty Dancing.”
You burst out laughing. “No way.”
“Seriously! They wouldn’t cut it out so we didn’t rent it to either of them. It was snatched up by Mrs. Fletcher.”
“Shut up. Mrs. Fletcher, our old math teacher?”
He nods. “Emphasis on the old. But good for her.”
“Did she recognize you?”
“She always does. She insists on squeezing my cheek and lamenting how poorly I did in her class.”
You giggle. “You never did get a good grade.”
“It’s not my fault math isn’t my strong suit. She should’ve been an English teacher if she wanted to see me succeed.”
“Right, you were always freakishly good in English.”
“I recall my knack for English saving your butt when midterms rolled around.”
“Only because my science knowledge saved yours.”
“Yes, that was a good balancing act, huh?”
You two look at each other, remembering happier times when you’d tutor each other before descending into a makeout session. As you stare at Steve, memories of his lips sucking on your neck while you tugged on his hair surfacing, you blush and change the subject. "What kind of business are you gonna go into?"
He adopts a thoughtful expression. "I don't know. Been thinking about it a lot lately, but I can't seem to pick something."
"Well," you spread your hands on the table, "what do you like?"
"What?"
"In life. What are your favorite things in life?"
"My friends," he replies automatically, and you smile. "Basketball."
"Maybe sports business?"
He makes a face. "I only really like basketball. Nothing else is interesting."
"I could argue with you about that as baseball's advocate but I won't. For now." Steve grins at that. "What else?"
"Kids. I want a whole pack of them."
You melt. There's a niggling thought invading your mind about the origin of children, but you push it away and offer, "Maybe school administration? Like a principal or superintendent."
Something lights up in his eyes. "That could be good. I'm not sure I'm cut out to be a teacher."
"You'd make a great teacher."
He blushes but says, "Thanks. But I meant more in terms of picking a grade or subject. I like the lot of them."
"You like all ages of kids?" Your eyebrows are at your hairline. "Even angsty, angry eighth graders? Even rude, can't be bothered high schoolers?"
"Yup." He pops the p while nodding. "Adults seem to forget that they were that age once too. I just think about how I wish I'd been treated and do that."
"You'll really put the 'pal' in principal," you joke, laughing when he rolls his eyes at the corny nature of it. "Seriously, Steve, that sounds perfect for you."
"You think?" When you nod, he grins and you smile reflexively. His smiles were always infectious. "Okay. I'll look into it more."
The waitress reappears and places your milkshakes on the table. "Burgers and fries are on their way, kids," she says. "Couple minutes."
"No problem," Steve says brightly, with a kind smile just for her, making her blush. She walks away, and both of you excitedly unwrap your straws and dip them into the frothy goodness. You each take a sip, your eyes widening in pleasure as he groans at the delicious taste. After a few more sips, you lean back.
"Wow, that is so good," you say in surprise. You've never really trusted diner food tastiness.
"Told you," he replies, around a mouthful of ice cream, and you laugh. He pushes the glass back towards the middle of the table and gazes at you. "Almost perfect."
"Almost?"
"Perfect would've been us splitting one." Your face heats at the picture of the two of you leaning forward to sip at the same time, so close that you'd be centimeters away from each other. The idea of his honey eyes being right there, staring into yours, with lips pursed around his straw like puckering up for a kiss, has your mind spinning. You'd never been able to resist getting lost in those hazel beauties.
"Would've been nice," you squeak out, immediately wincing internally at the uncoolness of it all. But Steve just smiles and nods. At the same time, your waitress comes back with your food, placing all the plates on the table and a stack of napkins so high it's kind of ridiculous. You sigh in relief, both of you arranging your meals how you like—you remove the tomato and Steve steals it to add to his burger, he takes out all but a little of his onion—and digging in. You two eat in comfortable silence until your food is about half-gone.
"So, pretty girl, how was school?" He asks before taking another handful of fries.
You blush at the nickname, but thank god, a safe topic. "It was good. Spent a lot of time in the library."
His face doesn't change, but you can tell he finds that disappointing. "Oh, okay. That sounds fun."
You giggle. "You were always a bad liar, Steve."
He turns sheepish. "Sorry. Books are not my idea of a good time, but I know how much you love to read. And I guess you don't get to be top of your class without spending a good amount of time studying."
"True. But I wasn't a complete recluse. I joined a sorority."
"A sorority?" He's surprised. "Like Greek life sorority? Frat parties and everything?"
"Kinda. It was a sorority but not a slutty one or anything." You sigh. "That's not what I meant. I mean our members were not limited to blonde, skinny white girls; it was more diverse. We had our slutty members too. Nothing wrong with that."
"Were you one of them?" It's a tease but there's a tense undercurrent to the question. You shake your head and relief flashes over his face briefly. It's sweet that he was worried about it, it makes your heart beat just a little faster, but you have an uneasy feeling in your stomach. You'd had your fun in school, did your time getting wasted and high and doing dangerous things with your friends and flirting with plenty of people, but you'd never actually wanted to have sex with anyone, even those you found aesthetically attractive. You'd done it anyway of course, to be an insider, because it's what you're supposed to want and do. But it'd never felt good and you'd never really desired to do it. It'd freaked you out then and it freaks you out now. So you refuse to think about it.
"What have you been doing since graduation?" You ask.
"Well, I worked at the mall before it exploded."
"Oh, yeah, I heard about that."
"Yeah, it was wild. I worked at the ice cream shop. Scoops Ahoy."
"Ahoy?" He nods. You cock your head as your mind races ahead of you. "Was it nautical-themed?" He nods again, this time with a disgusted face. "Wait, did you have to wear a uniform?"
He looks a little anxious now. "Yes," he answers nervously.
"OMG," you exclaim, reading all the signs in his body language, "did you have to dress up...as a sailor?" His features scrunch in distaste. When he reluctantly nods for the third time, you gasp gleefully. "That's amazing. I wish I could've seen it."
"Unfortunately, the uniform did not go up in the fiery blaze." He sniffs haughtily. "A true shame."
"So you still have it?"
His eyes widen when he realizes what he's admitted. You stare each other down and he blinks first. "Yes," he sighs, rolling his eyes fondly when you clap your hands in joy.
"I have to see it. I have to see you in it." He shakes his head firmly and you pout. You put a pleading edge to your next words, "What can I do to make that happen?"
He eyes you in interest. He pretends to think about it, but his answer comes a little too quickly for it to have been thought up in the moment. "Go out with me again."
You bite your lip slightly and shrug, suddenly so nervous that a reply is caught in your throat.
He plays with the straw in his milkshake, practically finished. "Did I mention that the shorts are absurdly short? And it comes with a little hat?"
You fight back a smile but he knows he's won. His grin is blinding when you respond, "Okay."
"Great." Your stomach flips at the happiness in his voice, like he's won something precious. "What should we do?"
You ponder the question. "How about we go someplace with alcohol?"
"I can make that happen," he replies, his wink making you look away with pink cheeks. You watch as he takes out his wallet, throws a couple bills on the table, and then stands. He holds out a hand and you take it, sliding out of the booth. He doesn't drop it as he walks you to the door and through it. He glances at you. "Wanna get some ice cream?"
"We just had milkshakes," you point out, giggling.
"Can never have too much ice cream."
"Shouldn't you be sick of it by now? That's what happens when you work at a restaurant; you get sick of what you serve."
He makes a conceding noise and you smile. "You got me. I just wanted to spend more time with you."
"I can make that happen," you tease. "Let's get some ice cream."
He looks at you with a fond gaze as he gently tugs you down the street. "You just wanted to hear me say it, huh?" You smile enigmatically, and he chuckles, squeezing your hand tighter. "Never change, honey."
"Wasn't planning on it." You bite your cheek to make sure this is really happening.
"Good."
It is.
;
The next few months are a whirlwind of Steve, Robin, their friends, work, Steve, Steve, Steve. You two see each other a lot, both feeling like everything is right with the world when you're together. He keeps his promise and takes you to a bar for the second date, staying mostly sober while you get drunk, so he can make sure you get home safe. He finds intoxicated you adorable, speaking your mind and letting loose on the dance floor. He's surprised he has so much fun dancing without a sexual end to the night.
You go to the movies a couple times. You choose Ghost but have a bad time, uncomfortable with all of the sexual overtones while being there with Steve, who doesn't seem to notice your poorly hidden tension since his eyes are glued to the screen (though he refuses to admit he liked it that much). So you let him pick next and he goes with the hottest new release Goodfellas, which you liked for its comedy but not its violence, for which you'd held Steve's hand (something he'd been very pleased about). You both end up picking Home Alone as your next choices, loving it and finding it absolutely hilarious, just like everyone else in the theater.
Steve takes you along to some Hawkins basketball games, since his friend Lucas is on the Varsity team and plays a lot. You watch amusedly as Steve gets really into it, yelling at the refs, cheering loudly, telling you the things he would've done had he been the coach instead. But Lucas plays great, putting up the winning shot just as a buzzer rings during one game, and Steve goes crazy with the rest of the crowd, shocking you by hugging you tight in his excitement. He's apologetic about it after, but you reassure him it's very okay; you'd never turn down a hug from him.
Steve even drives you into Indianapolis now and then, escorting you to museums and tagging along to concerts. His friend Eddie joins sometimes, when you're seeing a band he likes—you two have surprisingly similar music tastes, something that delights him since no one seems to appreciate his “artistic genius” in Hawkins. Steve brings you to the Hideout at Eddie's urging and your pleading; despite not really liking Corroded Coffin, he can't say no to your puppy dog eyes. You end up loving them and predicting they're gonna make it big, something Steve doubts but enjoys seeing you have fun.
Throughout it all, there's a thread of tension thrumming in your body. Steve had kissed your cheek at the end of your first couple of dates, and then upgraded to a chaste kiss on the lips, and while his lips were soft and warm and felt nice on your skin, you didn't feel anything beyond a growing romantic attachment for him. You don't want to rip his clothes off, you don't want him to rip off yours. You have no desire to do anything naked with him, with maybe the exception of skinny-dipping, and only because you haven't done it before and it's on your bucket list. But you can feel yourself falling for him anyways, which is a dangerous game. He hasn't pressured you into having sex, and you keep reminding yourself of what he said in his apology about not minding not having sex, but that was five years ago and you were high schoolers, basically kids. Now you're full-fledged adults and a sex life is an important part of an adult relationship and he would be well within his rights to break up with you if you refuse to have sex with him.
You dread the day that happens, knowing it'll come, but you can't help yourself from still seeing him, going on cute little dates where he makes you blush and laugh and smirk. They're better than the ones in high school, and mostly only because you two can do whatever you want now and can drink on top of it. There's nothing stopping you from spending all your time together, and so you do.
You even entrust him with the secret of applying for grad schools, wanting to get a master's in library science so you can become an actual librarian. He thinks it's perfect for you, encourages you to apply anywhere and everywhere, promising to come visit when you eventually get accepted somewhere. There's a lump in your throat whenever he says the distance doesn't matter, he'll come to you no matter where you are, and a constant voice in your head telling you that it's not fair to him, not fair to keep hidden your lack of sexual attraction while he thinks about a future with you. But you're so scared of telling him and being rejected again—and you really think Steve is the one—that you keep your lips sealed.
And then the day comes.
It's a normal, ordinary night. You're up late reading—another book recommended by Melanie—when the phone rings. Annoyed at being interrupted at a good spot, you pick up the phone and grit out an irritated "Hello?"
"Angel!"
Your bad mood instantly vanishes when you realize who it is. "Hi, Stevie. What are you doing?"
"Alcohol!"
You giggle at his unnecessary loudness. He must be pretty drunk, which makes sense; you knew he and Robin were going out tonight. He'd invited you but you weren't feeling up to it. "Sounds like you're having fun."
"Yeah! But I miss you!"
A smile blossoms across your face. "Miss you too."
"Wish I was with you!"
You snort softly at the exclamation point he puts after every sentence. "Me too. How's your night been?"
"Good! Robin got a girl's number!"
"Good for her. Vickie might be upset though," naming Robin's girlfriend.
"Probably!" You laugh. "Baby!"
"Yeah?"
"Wanna kiss you!"
"Me too, pretty boy."
"Wanna kiss you all over! You're so sexy, you know that!" You freeze. "You turn me on so much!"
You think your heart may have stopped completely. "That's nice," you hear yourself reply faintly, a buzzing in your ears blocking all sound. "Stevie, can I talk to Robin?"
"Yeah!" You hear rustling and then Robin says, "Sorry about that. He escaped when a girl was flirting with me. Even though I told her multiple times I had a girlfriend she gave me her number anyway." You can picture the eye roll she must be performing.
"It's fine," you reply, voice still quiet. "Make sure Steve gets home safe, yeah?"
"Of course, you'll get him back safe and sound."
I won't get him back at all, you think. "Thanks. I'm gonna go, okay? Feeling tired."
"Okay. Have a good night, babe." There's more rustling and then she adds, "Wait, Steve wants to say bye."
"Goodnight, honey!" He yells into the phone. "Sweet dreams!"
"Thanks, Stevie," you whisper. You hear the line click as the call ends, and you slowly hang up your phone in a daze. You stare at the wall for a while, mind blank, and then turn off the lights and slip into bed. You lie awake for a long time, hoping you can come up with a different plan of action than the one you currently have, but you can't. Your time has run out. It's time for the extraction.
;
Steve knocks on your door for the third time that week. You hadn't answered the first two times he'd come around, but he needs to check again. He can't let you disappear on him, can't give up this time, not when it's going so well. Or had been, at least. It's been a couple weeks since you stopped answering his calls, wouldn't call him back, hid from him at work when he visited you, wouldn't open your door, and he's desperate. He's at the end of his rope. He needs to talk to you.
He knocks again and calls your name. It sounds pathetic enough, but he puts every ounce of pleading into his voice to croak out, "Please."
The door opens to reveal a sliver of you. You look awful—Steve thinks you're pretty all the time and always will, but there are layers of sadness, exhaustion, frustration on your face that look like they weigh you down so much you'd sink in shallow water. His heart clenches at the sight and he wants nothing more than to hold you in his arms and take away your burdens.
"Please go away, Steve," you say quietly, half-heartedly. "I don't want to see you."
"I don't believe that. You want to see me, you just won't let yourself." You look away and he knows he's got it right. "Why? Sweetheart, talk to me." Your lower lip wobbles and he reflexively takes a step forward, stomach falling when you step back. "Please, baby. I'll do anything. Just tell me what's wrong. Tell me what I did and I'll fix it."
Tears spring to your eyes and start dripping down your cheeks. You hesitantly open the door wider and he seizes the space, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. "You didn't do anything wrong," you say, and he almost cracks apart at the heartbreak in your words.
"Come on, honey," he says gently, and slowly leads you into the living room, sitting you on the couch and placing himself beside you. "What's happened then? I thought things were good."
"They were. It's just...I'm not right for you."
"What? Yes, you are."
"We aren't a good match."
"I don't understand. We make each other happy, isn't that enough?"
"I can't give you everything you need." You're staring at him like you're hoping he'll know what you mean, but he doesn't. He's at a loss.
"Like what?" He asks desperately. "Tell me."
"Steve," you say in anguish. You take a shuddering breath. "I don't wanna have sex with you."
He blinks at you. "You're not attracted to me?"
You shake your head. "But it's not you. Or just you. Something's wrong with me. I'm not...I'm not attracted to anyone." A fresh wave of tears spill down your face. "I don't wanna have sex with anyone."
Sobs emerge at the end of your sentence, and Steve leans forward to wrap his arms around you and pull you to him. You press your face to his chest, soaking the fabric but he doesn't care. He buries his face in your hair, placing kisses at the crown of your head, only happy that he's with you again. "Nothing's wrong with you," he says softly, hands tightening when you cry harder. "I promise, pretty girl. Nothing's wrong with you."
"Then why don't I wanna have sex with anyone?" You mumble against him, with another surge of sobs.
"Some people just don't wanna have sex," he replies. "It's called asexuality. Robin taught me. She gave me a crash course in all things LGBTQ+ after she came out to me."
You lean back to look up at him and hiccup a small laugh, which Steve considers a win. "She would."
"I'm surprised you didn't learn about it in college."
"I didn't tell anyone," you admit. "I thought I was, I don't know, defective. And Greek life isn't a great place for that, I guess. Like, I had sex anyway." You shake your head. "I didn't like it."
"I'm sorry, baby," he says empathetically. "I hope no one forced you."
"Just myself." You smile humorlessly.
"You don't have to," he reassures. "Not with me."
"But what about you? I know you're not...asexual." You try out the new word.
"I'm not, you're right. But we'll figure it out. Promise."
You duck your head. "It's not fair to you."
"That's my decision," he says gently but firmly.
"I'm not worth it."
He tuts, placing his fingers under your chin and lifting your head until you're facing him again. "Look at me, pretty girl." It takes a few seconds, but you eventually meet his gaze. "You are definitely, absolutely worth it."
"Steve," you say, like you don't believe him, because you don’t. "Come on."
"I mean it. You are one hundred percent worth it." He puts every last drop of meaning into it.
"I'm worth not having sex again?" You doubt it.
"Look, are you open to having sex with me?"
Anxiety invades your features. "I don't know," you answer quietly.
"Okay. That's not a no. We can look into it. And if it becomes a no, we'll deal with it. We can talk about other options. But I'm not losing you again. You're it for me."
You gaze at him with hope in your eyes, at last. It's beautiful, just like you. "Are you sure?"
Instead of answering, he leans down to kiss you. You're surprised by it, but you lean in anyways, unable to turn down a kiss from him. He hums happily against your lips, and you break away with a giggle. He rests his forehead against yours. "I'm so sure, baby," he whispers.
You study him, looking deep in his eyes, and then whisper back, "Okay."
He relaxes completely, smiling widely. Your smile back is small, but it's there and he's still yours so it doesn't matter. Then you lean your head on his shoulder and groan. "I can't believe I never knew about asexuality. You'd think all those books would teach me something, but I guess not."
"It's okay, sweetheart," Steve chuckles. "I only know because of Robin. She actually asked me if you were ace but I didn't know. So she suspects, at least."
"As long as y'all didn't bet on me," you warn.
"No bets," he promises. "That's for TV shows."
You laugh a little, the sound music to his ears. You lean back and look at him shyly. "You're it for me too."
He beams.
;
“Come on!” You sing-song. “You promised.”
“I never actually promised,” comes Steve’s muffled voice from behind the closed bathroom door.
You tsk. “Then I will just have to tell everyone Steven Michael Harrington doesn’t keep his word and reneges on his deals.”
“That’s not my middle name,” he groans, making you smile. It grows wider when he adds, “Alright, alright. I’m coming out.”
You watch in rapture as the door slowly opens to reveal Steve, in a dark blue sailor’s outfit, shorts as absurdly short as he’d said, a little white hat sitting atop his styled hair. You gasp as soon as you see him, unable to decide what to look at first, hiding a giggle at the grimace on his face.
“I told you it ruins my hair,” he mutters.
You give him a fake sad expression. “Oh, baby. Did it ruin your chances with tons of girls? They couldn’t swoon since they couldn’t see your luscious hair?”
“Yes!” He exclaims, shutting his mouth when you playfully raise an eyebrow. “I mean, no! I’m grateful it made me look horrible and childish in front of a lot of girls I was trying to flirt with. Because I wouldn’t have been able to be with you. It was…a gift from the universe.”
His face breaks into a relieved grin at his ingenuity in the moment, and you finally laugh. “Whatever you say, baby.”
He sticks his tongue out at you and you do the same back to him.
It’s been a couple weeks since your big talk. Steve has been just as caring and thoughtful as before, and you’re starting to think he was telling the truth (you don’t think he was lying per se, but now you can feel yourself start to believe it). You’ve started seeing a therapist—it’s very early and no decisions have been made, but she’s very understanding about asexuality and actually helping you work through it. Steve has even offered to go to couple’s counseling if you need it, to discuss what you should do going forward.
It’s very sweet of him, and makes you fall even deeper in love with him, but you don’t think it’s necessary. You haven’t thought it all the way through yet, but you think you’ll try sex with him. You may not be attracted to him, and you may not get any physical pleasure out of it, but the idea of being so intimate and close with him, and making him feel good, feels like the right choice. You haven’t talked to him about it and you hope he’ll be happy about it. You don’t see why he wouldn’t be.
He also doesn’t pressure you into anything and never initiates more than cuddling and kissing—he’s quite clingy when he’s in a relationship. In fact, it’s been you who’s doing the initiating, starting a make-out session or kissing somewhere other than his lips. The rush you get from his reactions are more than enough to make up for the lack of physical desire you have. The desire to make him feel good is just as nice.
“So,” he says, bringing you back to the present. He does a little twirl. “What do you think?”
“You look really sexy, baby.” At his look, you add, “Seriously! I know when things are sexy even if I don’t find them sexy. And you’re sexy in that. The amount of leg shown? The low cut of the shirt? The little ascot things that someone can use to pull you forward? Not to mention the prospect of calling you 'sailor' in bed.”
“If someone called me 'sailor' in bed I think I’d actually die of embarrassment,” Steve states, and you snort.
“How is that any different than ‘cowboy’?” You ask. “Or for that matter, how is it worse than ‘daddy’?”
“I don’t know, it just is.” He groans and makes his way over to the bed, where you’re sitting, and flops next to you. He takes off his cap and goes to throw it away from him, but you grab it and place it on your head.
You pose. “How do I look?”
He smiles. “Gorgeous, angel. Sorry—sailor.”
“Is ‘sailor’ gender-neutral?” You wonder aloud.
“I don’t know,” Steve murmurs, still gazing at you with heart eyes. He still can’t quite believe you’re here with him again, for good this time if he can make it happen, and how amazing it feels. You two just fit together.
You look down at him and blush at his blatant adoration. He huffs a little laugh when you glance away. He loves that he can still fluster you so easily. He wants to do it forever.
“Hey,” he says softly, and waits until you meet his eyes again. “I love you.”
He can see you melting inside, and it makes him go all gooey too. “I love you,” you reply, barely above a whisper, like if you say it louder it’ll break the illusion.
But there isn’t an illusion. And Steve is prepared to make sure you know that for the rest of your lives.
Your mouth twitches. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a sailor tell me they love me,” you continue innocently. Steve narrows his eyes. “I’m surprised you didn’t say ‘ahoy’ instead of ‘hey’.”
He pounces and you let out peals of giggles as his hands descend to tickle you mercilessly. “I could make you walk the plank for that kind of sass, baby,” he teases, fingers digging into your sides as you flail and try to escape him, laughing all the while.
“I’ll bring you down with me,” you shriek. You finally get a foot in between your bodies and shove him away, making him go toppling off the bed. You gasp as he lands with a thud. “Steve!”
He’s laughing as he lays on the floor, watching you peek over the edge of the bed. “Man overboard,” he wheezes out, and you collapse on the bed in exasperated relief.
When his laughter dies down, he looks up at you, peering down at him from the safety of the mattress. “Would you like a hand, sailor?” You ask jokingly.
“Yes, please pull me from these depths, they’re infested with sharks,” he replies dramatically, making you chuckle as you reach a hand down for him to grab. He does so, and you haul him back into the bed with you. He lays down and pulls you close, and you rest your head on his chest. Closing his eyes, he revels in the feeling of you against him, and vows to never let you go again.
#i don't know y'all#pls don't rip this (me) apart#steve harrington x reader#mine#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fic
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The Dunes | e.m.
A/N: Reposting this because I tweaked the ending a lil bit... hehe. Also, “The Devil Went Down to Georgia” didn’t come out until 1979, so (realistically), you and Eddie would’ve been almost in high school by the time it came out and, therefore, would not have spent your whole childhood singing along to it. However, it’s my (midwestern) family’s road-trip anthem so I had to include it. Thank you @chainsawmunson for beta-reading this!!! Ily <3
Word Count: 6.0k
CW: Adult themes (cursing, smoking weed, etc.; however, nothing smutty happens nor is anything smutty discussed beyond a brief, undetailed mention! I tried to make this as ace friendly as possible, but please let me know if there's something I can do better next time, in that regard!!).
18+ only!!
mdni
“It’s this exit, right, bunny?” Eddie asks.
“Um,” you pause to look down at the map and then up at the road signs ahead. “Yeah, this one,” you confirm.
Eddie merges into the correct lane as he resumes his solo performance of Creeping Death, strumming his calloused thumbs along the worn leather of the steering wheel like it’s the strings of his beloved guitar.
“How close are we now, bug?” Eddie asks.
You check the map before replying, “54-ish miles.”
Eddie huffs out a brief chuckle, “Ish?”
“Yeah, it could be 53 or 54, but it’s definitely not more than 55,” you explain while grinning cheekily.
“Dude, you’re a horrible navigator,” Eddie teases.
“Hey, I told you we should’ve brought the guys with us,” you say defensively, though there’s no real bite behind your words.
“This is probably gonna be our last vacation together, bug, so excuse me for wanting to spend some one-on-one time with my favorite person in all of Indiana,” Eddie remarks dryly.
“Oh, I didn’t realize Roxanne had finally moved to Chicago,” you tease, referencing the bartender from the Hideout that you suspect he’s had the hots for since Corroded Coffin first started playing there last fall. Not that you’d blame him for being attracted to her; she’s everyone’s type. Roxy may very well be ten years your senior, but she looks like she hopped straight out of the pages of one of Eddie’s Heavy Metal magazines; as a bottle blonde with tan skin, long, slender legs, heaving breasts, and an affinity for red leather, she’s the very definition of the beauty standard.
Eddie rolls his eyes and reaches across the console to gently shove your shoulder as he grumbles, “Shut up.”
You giggle at his response, but the joyous sound dies in your throat when you remember something Eddie had said previously.
“Grub, why would this be our last vacation together?” You ask curiously.
“Because, Jitterbug,” he sighs before continuing, “in a couple of weeks, you’ll be off in Michigan, meeting all sorts of cool people who are into all the same stuff as you, and you’ll forget all about little ole me,” Eddie explains, feigning lightheartedness as he does so.
“Eddie-” You begin to refute his assumptions, but he soon interrupts.
“Bunny, it’s fine, really. I mean, we always knew this was gonna happen; you’d go off to some amazing university after high school, and, for one reason or another, I’d have to stay behind in Hawkins. I just wanna soak up the last little bit of time we have together, okay?”
“Eddie,” you sigh, moving your hand to rest on Eddie’s thigh, only to immediately remove it when you feel his muscles tense underneath your palm. “Eddie,” you start again, this time without the physical contact, “you’re an idiot if you think that moving a couple hundred miles away is really gonna be enough to make me forget about you. Seriously, I can’t even go a week without talking to you. What do you think I’ve been saving up all that change in my piggy bank for? It’s so I have enough quarters to call your dumbass while I’m away at school,” you reassure him while also teasing him a bit to lighten the mood.
“And here I thought you were saving up to win me that stuffed elephant from the claw machine at Benny’s,” Eddie jests, and you snort at the thought.
“That thing’s been in there since we were ten, otter. I don’t think winning it is even possible,” You reply. Eddie’s heart flutters fondly at your childhood petname for him, one that even predates Grub, inspired by the time you’d watched a seven-year-old Eddie consume a dozen Otterpops one hot July afternoon.
Eddie grins, “Maybe not for you; you suck at claw machines.”
You scoff, “Dick.”
“I know you are, but what am I?” Eddie responds immaturely while the both of you fight off matching amused smirks.
Eddie covertly glances at you out of the corner of his eyes, a bittersweet feeling stirring in his chest. He misses you already, and you haven’t even left yet. Pathetic, he thinks.
Soon enough, the next track on Eddie’s road trip mixtape begins to play, and a grin lights up your features as the sound of Charlie Daniels’s voice fills the entire van.
Eddie begins to sing along to The Devil Went Down to Georgia, the song the two of you had spent the better half of your childhoods singing along to, thanks to Wayne. And just like that, any and all thoughts of your impending departure are gone.
Just a little under an hour later, the two of you arrive at Dunewood. After an essential stop at the campground’s convenience store for some ice cream sandwiches, you’re ready to set up camp. You and Eddie have come here every summer since you were small, but it’s different this time. This time, it’s just you and Eddie, as Wayne couldn’t come along due to a busy schedule at work. Getting up here was quite a feat given that Beverly Shores is quite a ways away from Hawkins and that, between the two of you, you guys have absolutely zero sense of direction once you get out of Hawkins. However, unpacking your equipment and setting up camp should be a breeze, as you both have prior experience with setting all of this crap up, thanks to the fact that Wayne always made the two of you help him set up camp.
Although, what should be the case and what actually is the case, apparently, aren’t always aligned.
“Dude, are you helping me or what?” You huff out frustratedly as you attempt to haul the packed-away tent out of the back of Eddie’s van on your own. Meanwhile, your less-than-helpful best friend is reclining in the front seat, still munching away on his melting ice cream sandwich. The sticky sweet ice cream is dripping down onto his beloved Black Sabbath band tee, making a mess in a way that might be goofily adorable if he were a toddler, but, alas, he’s a man, a messy man, but a man nonetheless.
“Mhm, yeah, I’ll be there in a second,” he replies nonchalantly before turning up the radio’s volume as if attempting to drown out the sounds of your complaining with Rob Halford’s eerie growls. He begins to headbang to the rowdy music, further solidifying that he will not get out of the van to help you anytime soon.
You groan exasperatedly as you lug the heavy tent closer to the stone fire pit while managing to keep it a reasonable distance from where a hearty fire will rage on later in the night. As you squat down to unzip the bag the tent is kept in for storage, you unknowingly bless your dear best friend with a marvelous view of your denim-clad ass, the fat there causing the fabric to strain to the point where it looks as if your favorite pair of jean shorts may rip right along the tight seam.
As he finishes off the last of his ice cream sandwich, Eddie resists the urge to continue ogling you, instead averting his gaze and opting to focus all of his attention on staring aimlessly out the windshield of his van while thinking about truly horrid shit in an attempt to prevent a tent of his own from forming in his jeans. Fortunately, that tried and true strategy never fails him. Unfortunately, it does require him to think about the time he had to dissect a fetal pig in junior-year biology; if Eddie thinks about it for too long, he swears he can still smell the formaldehyde along with the scent of his lab partner’s raging B.O.
Once Eddie’s reigned his inner horndog back in, he turns the key in the van’s ignition, fully turning off the vehicle, before climbing out of the driver’s seat to finally offer you some help with setting up camp.
“Alright, alright,” Eddie huffs humorously, “Give that to me before you break it,” he teases, referring to the poles of the tent that you’re trying to snap together. You briefly pause your attempts to glare at him.
“I’m not gonna break it, asshole,” you reply bitterly before finally managing to snap the pieces together. Once you do so, you look up at Eddie and fix him with a victorious grin.
“Why don’t you start the fire so we can eat dinner when we finish setting up all this stuff?” You suggest before fixing your friend with a mischievous smile and continuing, “Leave the hard stuff to the men, sugar.”
Eddie scoffs at your teasing but heeds your request nonetheless, going to fetch the firewood your dad had reluctantly given him, some logs cut from the unfortunate trees that weren’t good enough to sell at the farm this past Christmas season.
“Leave the hard stuff to the men, sugar,” he mumbles in a silly tone, clearly mocking you as he grabs a couple of logs from the van, causing you to cackle. Eddie scowls and blushes, mildly embarrassed as he wasn’t aware that you could hear his mockery from your spot across the campsite. The expression on his face only makes you laugh harder, and you don’t stop until Eddie gets petulant and throws one of the towels he’d brought for the beach at you.
After that playful spat, you both fall into a comfortable silence, too concentrated on your respective tasks to hold a conversation with each other. It isn’t until Eddie has successfully set up the fire and starts getting the food you’d both prepared ahead of time out that either one of you speaks again.
“Hey, Grub?” You call out to him from your spot near the still partially unassembled tent. Eddie responds with a soft hum as he continues to rifle through the cooler he’d filled with food and drinks.
“Don’t put the food on yet. The tent’s still not ready yet,” you inform him.
Eddie then shuts the cooler with an annoyed huff, leaving the food inside the chilled box as he comes over to join you.
“It would be if you would’ve just let me take care of it,” he nags as he squats down to help you finish setting up the tent.
You scoff, “Yeah, right, it would’ve taken you twice the amount of time just to figure out how to put this shit together simply because you refuse to read instruction manuals.”
“Incorrect,” Eddie defends himself, “it would’ve taken me half the time to put this shit together because I wouldn’t have wasted so much time reading the pointless instructions.”
“Says the man who just put our rainfly on before the tent body,” you tease as you stand up and strip the bright blue fabric off the tent.
“Does it really matter what order we put this shit on? I mean, so long as it’s on there, we’re good, right?” Eddie asks, standing up with his hands on his hips as he assesses the situation, discerning what’s left to do. The shit-eating grin on his face tells you he’s not being serious and is just trying to rile you up by being intentionally obtuse. So, rather than dignify his question with an answer, you simply fix him with an annoyed glare and then attempt to put the tent body on by yourself. Eddie chuckles at your terse expression as he begins to help you.
Finally, a few moments later, the two of you have set up your tent, leaving you to put your sleeping bags and pillows inside and set up the chairs near the fire as Eddie gets to work on cooking up a couple of foil burgers over the fire; a Munson family recipe and camping essential that’s really nothing more than a beef patty resting on top of a bed of potatoes and a few veggies inside a tinfoil cocoon.
You still remember the first time you’d had such a delicacy during your first camping trip with the Munsons. You were absolutely ravenous, having just got back to camp with Wayne and Eddie after spending all day at the beach, your hair still wet from swimming around in the chilly waters of Lake Michigan and the baby tooth you’d lost while wrestling around in the sand with Eddie nestled in the patch pocket of Wayne’s flannel. As a result of your profound hunger, the easy dinner Wayne had prepared for the three of you tasted like the single greatest thing you’d ever eaten in all your eight years of life. Although, even now, when you finally bite into your burger after Eddie gets done making them, hungry but not at all starving thanks to the sweet treat you’d wolfed down earlier, that simple dish still tastes like one of the most delicious things you’ve ever eaten, the gooey cheese coating your tongue as you munch away happily.
As for Eddie, he seems to agree about the delectableness of the foil burgers if the moan he emits as he bites into his burger is any indication. You giggle at the sound, feeling your cheeks heat up all the while. Always so dramatic, you think fondly.
“We’ve really outdone ourselves this time, bug,” Eddie declares. You hum your agreement as you bite into a crispy chunk of potato.
“The dried rosemary was a good touch. Where’d you get that anyways?” You ask him once you’ve swallowed your bite of starchy goodness.
He grins around his mouthful of food, “Stole a jar of it from the pantry at Gareth’s place after I got done fixin’ the kitchen sink for his mom yesterday.”
“Eddie!” You scold him.
“What? I’ll bring it back Saturday when we have band practice. Lorraine’ll never even know it was missing,” he reasons.
You simply shake your head at him disapprovingly while trying to fight off an amused smile, “You’ve gotta get those sticky fingers in check, Grub.”
Later in the night, as you both lounge in your tent, sharing a joint to help you relax before you go to sleep, your mind races with fretful thoughts about going to college in a few weeks.
“Eds,” you softly call out from just beside him, your head resting on his shoulder and his on yours as you lay with your bodies extended in opposite directions.
“Yeah, bug?”
“No one’s ever- I haven’t had my first kiss yet,” you confess, your inhibitions lowered as the high sets in.
Eddie snorts a laugh, amused by your randomness rather than your inexperience, “Yeah, I know, Jitterbug.”
“What if I meet someone at school, and they kiss me?” You worry aloud. Eddie’s chest tightens at the thought, but he does his best to ignore it.
“Then you’ll have your first kiss, duh,” he remarks simply as if the mere thought of you kissing someone - anyone - but him doesn’t make him want to cry and hurl simultaneously.
“Yeah, I know, but what if it’s bad because… because I don’t know what I’m doing?” You ask, after rolling over to look into his doe eyes, your face hovering above his as your arms hold you up above him. Your breath smells like Kraft singles and Skunk #1, but Eddie can’t find it in himself to care; he’s just happy to have you so close to him.
“First kisses are usually bad, silly billy,” Eddie giggles, the powers of the Dutch strain making him giddy even though his heart is aching just from hearing you talk about this shit.
“But I don’t want mine to be bad,” you reply, your tone bordering on petulant as your brows furrow and your lips pout just slightly, “what if the guy I’m with gets weirded out by how bad I am at it and like never speaks to me ever again?”
“Then that’s his loss, Jitterbug,” Eddie says without missing a beat.
You sigh and sit up, shoulders hunching in slightly as you pout.
“God, what if he does the opposite and tries to, you know, touch me?” You ponder, unintentionally breaking your best friend’s heart. Eddie’s sure that the knowledge of anyone but him touching you like that would devastate him.
“If- if that’s not something you’d be comfortable with, then just tell him,” he reasons.
“But what if he doesn’t listen to me? My sister says that sometimes guys don’t take ‘no’ for an answer,” you reply, and Eddie’s jaw clenches at the thought.
“Then I’ll kill him,” Eddie replies genuinely, causing you to burst into a fit of giggles.
“Grub, you can’t even kill the spider that’s been camped out in your room for the past two weeks,” you tease, and Eddie frowns in response.
“That’s different. Guillermo and I have come to a mutual understanding, he kills the flies, and I don’t kill him,” Eddie replies defensively, and your giggles increase tenfold upon finding out that he’s named the damn thing.
“You’re adorable, Eddie Bear,” You remark once your giggles have ceased. As you wipe the tears of amusement out of your eyes, you miss the blush that rises to Eddie’s cheeks.
“Shut up,” he grumbles as he hands you the joint. You accept it gracefully as you take a hit, exhale, and then take another. Meanwhile, Eddie’s mesmerized by the sight of your lips wrapping around the joint, as if it’s a sight he hasn’t seen hundreds of times already. He’s immediately snapped out of his trance when you hand the joint back to him, your fingers brushing against his as you hand it over, still holding in the last puff you’ve taken.
As you finally exhale your last hit, a brilliant idea comes to mind, or at least one that seems clever in your current state.
“You should be my first kiss,” you suggest, making Eddie choke on the puff of smoke he’s just inhaled.
“What? Me?” Eddie asks incredulously in between bouts of coughing.
“Yeah, if you’re cool with it,” you respond nonchalantly as you grab the joint from him.
“No, no, no, I think you’ve had enough for tonight, space cadet,” Eddie remarks as he plucks the joint from between your fingertips.
“How do you feel, bug?” Eddie had asked you the first time you got high.
“‘M so high, I think I could touch the stars up here,” you’d groaned, making Eddie chuckle.
“Don’t worry, space cadet, I’ll be your ground control,” he’d reassured you.
You whine, “Eddie, I’m not even that high.”
“Of course, you’re not,” Eddie replies sarcastically as he stubs out the joint, opting to save the rest for tomorrow morning.
“Eddie, it’s okay if you don’t want to,” you say as you timidly pick at the loose threads of your sleeping bag, “kiss me, I mean. It’s okay if you don’t wanna kiss me,” you clarify.
Eddie sighs, knowing you’re not gonna let this go very easily. His mind races with thoughts of you kissing him, and his heart lurches at the idea that you’d even want to kiss him, but he also knows it’s too good to be true. You don’t actually want this, at least not with him; you’re just high and lonely. You’re too amazing and angelic; you could never want a freak like him, not in the same way he wants you.
“How about you ask me again in the morning, okay?” Eddie offers placatingly as he climbs into his sleeping bag, saying anything he can to get you to drop this, to stop torturing him.
Eddie’s not leaving any room for argument as he rolls over to face the opposite direction before shutting off the lantern. You sigh before climbing into your own sleeping bag and getting comfy.
“Goodnight, Eddie,” you whisper tentatively, worrying that you’ve upset him.
“Goodnight, bunny.”
The following day is awkward, to say the least. The fresh air the wooded campground provides is nice, or it would be if it wasn’t filled with unbearable tension thanks to last night’s events.
Eddie won’t even look at you, hasn’t spared you so much as a single glance since the two of you first woke up at around 9 a.m., nearly two hours ago. Granted, he’s not being outwardly hostile or anything like that. Instead, Eddie just won’t look at you, won’t speak to you in more than short sentences and noncommittal hums, and hasn’t touched you at all since last night when his fingers brushed yours as you exchanged the shared joint repeatedly. Usually, he would’ve talked your ear off about some new music by now, most likely the new Metallica album, or even about the latest drama plaguing the Hellfire club; surprisingly, a lot of juicy gossip comes out of that group. If the present circumstances were normal, Eddie also would’ve definitely exploited the many unintentional openings you’d given him this morning by tackling you to the ground or putting you in a half-nelson by now. However, he hasn’t done either of those things and, if his tense body language is anything to go off of, you figure he probably won’t be doing any of those things any time soon. How strange is it that you’ve begun to miss how Eddie playfully wrestles with and pesters you? How pathetic is it that you’ve started to yearn for how he carelessly flings you around like a ragdoll in an ornery display of his shocking strength?
“What time are we heading to the beach?” You ask meekly as you continue to pick at the Zingers Eddie had gotten you from the campground’s convenience store earlier this morning. At least he’d still gone out of his way to get your favorite breakfast-adjacent junk food. That had to be a good sign, right?
“Dunno,” he replies gruffly and then shrugs his shoulders as he takes another puff of his cigarette, his gaze still fixed on the sparse grass beneath his Reeboks.
“Maybe we could head out there in like an hour?” You suggest, your tone still timid and unsure, “That way, we could grab lunch on the way there. I just- I don’t think three Zingers will hold me over for the rest of the day. Not that I don’t appreciate that you got them for me, because I do! It’s just-”
Eddie cuts you off with another short, gruff response, “Yeah, that’s fine.”
You frown at his dismissive tone. Had you really pushed things too far last night? Was the idea of kissing you so bad that even the mere suggestion of it had gotten Eddie this upset?
When you first woke up this morning, you were mortified by the memory of what you’d said to your friend last night. Now, his sudden indifference toward you only amplifies that feeling of humiliation.
This is only day two of what’s supposed to be a week-long trip, and you’re not sure if you can survive several more days of this trip, not if things will continue being this tense between you and Eddie. So, you decide to repress your shame in favor of making peace. After all, only a couple weeks after you get home from this trip, your dad will drive you up to Ann Arbor to move into your new dorm room for your first semester at college. You’re unsure if your friendship with Eddie could survive the distance, not with this lingering hostility creating such a harsh divide between you two.
“Look, Eds,” you sigh, swallowing down what’s left of your pride as you prepare to grovel, to plead for your friendship to remain unchanged after last night’s blunder, “I’m sorry about last night, about asking you to… to kiss me. I mean- fuck- Grub, I’m really sorry for bringing it up and making shit weird between us. I promise I’m not, like, harboring some freakish little crush on you or anything like that. I just- I wanted you to be my first kiss because,” you pause with a quivering sigh, thinking better of your impending confession, “You know what? That doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is that I’m sorry, really fucking sorry, and I just wanna go back to the way things were before I said any of that stupid crap, okay? I just wanna enjoy our trip. I wanna have fun doing moronic bullshit in the woods with my best friend, the same way we always do every summer. Do you think we can do that? That we can just go back to the way things were? Please?”
Eddie sighs, dragging the palm of his hand harshly down his face until it reaches his jaw, where it then remains, kneading the muscles there as if to relieve the tension. His soulful brown eyes flicker up to meet yours just briefly before his gaze falls back to the ground. He finally breaks the silence, quietly asking, “Why me? Why d’ya wanna kiss me?”
The question catches you off guard, so much so that you almost think you’d misheard him when he asked it. You can only think to reply with a surprised, breathy, “What?”
“Why did you want to kiss me, bug?” Eddie reiterates.
Your brows furrow, your nose scrunching up as you ponder and carefully plan your reply, not wanting to give too much away, wanting to keep your cards clutched close to your chest. You finally come up with an honest response and, most importantly, one that omits some of the more embarrassing details. You tug on the inside of your lower lip with your teeth, wriggling the flesh between your incisors, working up the courage to answer his question before sighing and eventually replying, “Because I trust you, Eddie. Because I know you won’t take things too far or do anything to make me uncomfortable.”
Eddie’s leg bounces as he considers your answer. “That’s all?” He asks suddenly, once again catching you off guard.
“Wha- What d’you mean?” You curiously inquire, wearing your confusion plainly on your features.
“That’s it? That’s the only reason why?” Eddie questions, his gaze intense, alight with an emotion you can’t place.
“I mean,” you trail off, your leg bouncing in tandem with Eddie’s, though not intentionally. “Yeah, kind of,” you lie.
Unfortunately, Eddie still doesn’t look entirely convinced, and that makes you nervous. You huff out frustratedly, wringing your hands together and carefully thinking over your words before speaking.
“Grub, I’m 18 years old, and I’ve never once in my whole life kissed someone, so, yeah, at this point, I’m pretty fucking desperate. Hell, I think I’d kiss just about anyone,” you ramble, slightly exasperated.
I think I’d kiss just about anyone.
You don’t mean it as an insult, you don’t mean to hurt Eddie’s feelings, he knows you don’t, but it still stings something fierce.
“Look, Eds, I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable, so if you’re not-”
Eddie interrupts you, not that he’s truly listening to how you’re trying, in vain, to walk back your previous statements anyways. No, Eddie’s too busy thinking about if he is actually going to go through with this. He bluntly asks, “Just one kiss?”
Those three words halt you in your tracks, making your breath hitch. You miraculously manage to collect yourself and come up with a coherent response.
“Yeah,” you reply in a tone that’s gentle and airy, soft and breathy like a sigh, “just one.”
“I’ll do it,” Eddie swiftly asserts, taking you both by surprise. “I mean, um, I’ll- I’ll help you, but you gotta promise me something first, ’kay?”
“Yeah, yeah, anything, Grub, of course,” you agree far too eagerly, making a swirling mass of embarrassment sink down heavily into the pit of your stomach. All the while, your voice is still soft and quiet, nothing more than a susurration.
“You gotta promise me you won’t let this change things between us, bug. Okay? I can’t lose-” Eddie cuts himself off with a shaky, anxious exhale, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes as he attempts to reign in his emotions. He wants to tell you that if he ever lost you again, like he did in the summer of 1980, he wouldn’t be able to survive it; Eddie’s not really sure how he survived it last time. However, Eddie’s too afraid to tell you that, too scared of what that implies, and infinitely more scared of how you’d react to that implication. So, he drops his hands from his face, opting to pick at his nail beds to keep his fidgety fingers busy, as he continues, “I’m just helping you out, alright? So, just- You gotta promise that you won’t start acting all weird around me or, um, start avoiding me again, or whatever.”
You frown at the sentiment, briefly looking back on those two years you’d spent without Eddie in high school. You were an idiot back then, avoiding the one person, the only one of your peers, who’d ever shown you genuine kindness, just because he’d gotten a little mean and said some things that had hurt your feelings during a heated exchange, what’s worse is they were things you’d desperately needed to hear. You gently shake your head as if to rid yourself of any and all memories of that lonely time in your life before looking into Eddie’s eyes and earnestly swearing, “I won’t, Grub. Nothing will change between us, I promise.”
Things truly won’t change between the two of you; you’ll make sure of that. Eddie will never find out about the love you pathetically harbor for him, and, most importantly, you’ll never shut him out again. Even when he settles down one day with someone who isn’t you, maybe marries them and has a couple kids with them, you’ll still be his best friend, no matter how much it hurts, and you’ll make damn sure that Eddie never finds out how much it hurts you.
Eddie can hear the unwavering sincerity in your voice, can see it in your gaze, and it makes him smile softly, a warm expression you cannot help but reciprocate.
“Okay,” he breathes, his tone wavering as he rubs his sweaty palms on the rough denim of his jeans. “Just, um, c’mere… If you want to, I mean,” he stammers awkwardly. You’d probably chuckle at his apparent nervousness if you weren’t feeling the same way right now. Instead, you simply get up out of your lawn chair, rise to your feet, and trek across the short distance between the two of you. You then lower yourself to sit down in the grass in front of Eddie, who promptly lowers his legs, his knees no longer tucked up against his chest as he now sits tailorwise, or criss-cross-applesauce, as you both call it. You sit in the same position, your knees pressed against his own as you mirror him.
Eddie tentatively leans forward, bridging the gap between you two, as one of his large, warm hands rises to hover over one of your shoulders for a brief moment before he finally gets the courage to lower it so that it rests there. With his other hand, he takes a much bolder step, lifting his arm and hesitantly reaching up to brush his calloused fingertips against the soft, smooth skin of your cheek before finally cupping it in his palm.
“Is this okay?” He asks you quietly, like he’s afraid that speaking more loudly than a mere whisper will frighten you and scare you off. You nod your affirmative as your hands slowly move forward to rest on his denim-clad thighs, just above his knees. That contact makes Eddie’s breath hitch, but you both elect to ignore it for reasons unbeknownst to each other.
Eddie then leans in further, his bulbous nose gently brushing against yours with purpose, effectively warning you and giving you a chance to stop him. However, you do the opposite. “Eds, please, kiss me,” you whisper.
It’s all the encouragement Eddie needs. He closes the gap between the two of you, his lips finally meeting yours. You try to reciprocate as best as you can, but you’re, admittedly, a little lost. You’re overthinking things, Eddie can tell. He pulls away far sooner than he would’ve liked to and then presses a comforting kiss to the corner of your mouth, by one of your smile lines that he loves so much.
��I wasn’t good, was I?” You grimace, your forehead still resting against his. “Please, you can tell me. I just wanna know what to do, Ott.”
Eddie licks his lips before hesitantly replying, “When you, um,” he clears his throat, “the next time that you kiss someone, try not to purse your lips so much,” he winces, both at the thought of you kissing someone else and out of fear that he’s been too harsh.
“I thought that’s what you’re supposed to do when you kiss someone?” Eddie thinks your puzzled expression is far too adorable to be legal.
“You are! You are, a little bit, I mean. Just not quite so much; you gotta relax your um- your mouth a little bit,” Eddie blushes, thoroughly flustered. As usual, you’re oblivious to his plight, too caught up in your own mind.
Your brows furrow as you stare at his chin absentmindedly, mind racing a million miles an hour all the while, “S-so how much should I purse them then?”
Eddie thinks it over. “It’s hard to explain,” he sighs.
“Could you, you know, show me?” You ask. “I mean, if you’re comfortable kissing me again.”
Little do you know, Eddie would gladly give up both of his kidneys if it meant he got to kiss you again. Needless to say, he’s pretty stoked that he gets to do it without having to endure a double nephrectomy.
He nods, answering wordlessly, before leaning in again, connecting your lips once more. You make sure to pay attention to what he’s doing, to how it feels, so you can mirror it. You relax your mouth a bit, your lips not quite as pursed as before, and Eddie sighs his approval. That sound sets your whole body alight with tingly, little fireworks.
You both get caught up in the moment, in the feeling of finally acting on the desires you’ve both spent years repressing. Consequently, when Eddie nips at your bottom lip, and you respond with a gasp that he can only describe as sinful, he doesn’t even try to resist the urge to take advantage of the momentary part in your lips. You pull back abruptly, primarily out of shock, when you feel his tongue slip through the gap. Eddie winces at the loss.
“Shit, sorry,” he apologies gruffly, comfortingly rubbing your upper arms on instinct, soothing you.
You let out an easy, breathy giggle as you ease back into his space, resting your forehead gently against his own. “It’s okay. You surprised me, that’s all. Just, um, warn me next time, okay?”
Warmth blossoms in both of your chests at the thought of getting to kiss each other again. Eddie lets out a gentle chuckle of his own as he moves his other hand up to cup your other cheek, feeling the warmth alight beneath the soft skin there too.
“Next time?” Eddie questions with a nervous grin, mentally berating himself for daring to question you because, in his eyes, you’re practically offering your lips up to him on a silver platter, and he’s about to make you second guess that monumental decision.
“Yeah,” you let out the prettiest little sigh, “I feel like I have a lot left to learn, and, well, you seem like a pretty good teacher. I mean, if you don’t mind kissing me again, that is,” you look into his eyes hopefully. Eddie feels his smile grow wider at the sight of your sanguine expression.
Eddie offers his whispered reassurance while gently nudging the tip of your nose with his own, “I don’t mind.”
Needless to say, you two won’t make it to the beach today.
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Side Note: Please don't feel like you're weird if you're older than 18 and still haven't had your first kiss yet!! I literally haven’t had my first kiss yet and I’m 21 years old. We all do things at our own pace and in our own time, so, trust me, you're not weird at all if you're an adult (of any age) who hasn't been kissed yet!!
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#eddie munson#best friend!eddie munson#best friend!eddie#best friend au#jitterbug + grub#jitterbug x grub#jitterbug and grub#best friend!eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie stranger things#stranger things#stranger things 4#stranger things vol 4#eddie munson fluff#stranger things au#stranger things fluff#stranger things season four#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson au#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fics
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SteveTony Weekly - August 27th
Hey all! I’m feeling under the weather this week so even though you’re owed a long list this week--it’s not. I’m sorry. I’ll do better soon.
~*~
Memory Lane by itsallAvengers
Suddenly, he's soaking - someone just threw a fucking water bomb or something, and it's not a big deal, it shouldn't be a big deal-
But for some reason, it is.
Toasted Buns by copperbadge, scifigrl47
After seeing Tony naked and tanned -- all over -- in a decontamination shower, Steve realizes he may be in trouble. Tony, meanwhile, is definitely in trouble over those tabloid pictures of him sunbathing nude. The solution is clearly a tropical island getaway.
Tenth Time Lucky by itsallAvengers
Steve just wants to propose to Tony.
If only he didn't keep getting fucking interrupted-
I Am One With What I Am by Kiyaar
After the mess in Washington, Steve and Tony try to carve out a little life for themselves, a place to heal, out of the spotlight.
If only the original Tony’s shadow wasn't permanently between them.
Throw a Little Hot Rod Red in There by FestiveFerret, SirSapling
Tony Stark was pretty sure that the absolute worst time to get asked out by an incredibly talented, good-looking artist, who likes to paint - and defend - Iron Man, is when he's dying of palladium poisoning.
Vice Versa by AvocadoLove
During an alien invasion, Tony is transported to an alternate universe where Steve is Iron Man and he is Captain America.
Also, Captain Stark and CEO Steve Rogers are together on the sly. Awkward.
I Wanted It To Be You by complicationstoo
After Civil War, Tony and Steve are both a bit of a mess. Guilt and loneliness threaten to break them both, but each find comfort in the emails of strangers they meet online. Tony writes to Sal, and Steve writes to Thomas, and neither of them have a clue who's actually on the other side.
Antoshka by LokasennaHiddleston
Tony does not know what to make of the Winter Soldier's story. For Steve's sake, he's trying to help. For Steve's sake, he's trying to find Bucky Barnes and bring him back. But when an Avengers raid on a Hydra base leads to an unexpected discovery, Tony will find that Bucky Barnes may just be more than just his lover's best friend.
Mental note: Scrap all footage of him hitting on Natasha. That's just awkward.
Through A Lens by itsallAvengers
"Okay- so this is the first option- I've got to go to this huge family meal in a few weeks, and so I'm looking for a shirt that just screams 'I am the family disappointment', you know? Does the bright pink work, do you think?"
Steve shrugged. "Uhh, well, I'd say pink probably would? It's hard to say, I mean, I'm colour-blind, maybe you need Natasha's input. Hell, Clint's always good with 'family disappointment' fashion, shall I grab him-"
"Wait," Tony cut him off, face completely blank and shirt half way off his body. "You're... you're fucking with me, right?"
"Huh? I mean, Clint's family is fucked up on a normal day, so it's not really-"
"No, not that, the other thing. The colour-blind thing," Tony said, stepping out of the changing room with his shirt still hanging around his neck in order to grab Steve's arms. "Please, please God tell me that I haven't spent the last two years of my life assuming you could see colour. Please."
If you like Piña Coladas... by itsallAvengers
After being essentially blackmailed onto a first-class cruise by Bucky under the guise of 'taking a vacation' and 'getting some well-earned rest' or whatever stupid bullshit it was that his dumb best friend told him, Steve Rogers ends up alone, on a boat heading to the Caribbean. He gets on expecting to hate it.
He does.
There is one good thing about the trip, though.
patchwork people by itsallAvengers
It was a pretty well-known fact that Tony Stark had control issues.
It was far less well-known why, though.
Our rain-washed histories (don't need to be told) by sirona
Dumped by SHIELD into the real world of the 21st Century, Steve must learn how to live a normal life again, and rediscover the things that make it worth embracing.
Science and Progress (do not speak as loud as my heart) by sirona
Steve's body is not the only thing affected by the Super Soldier Serum.
I wanna hold your hand by sirona
No one understands what it's like growing up rich and yet more alone than anyone should be able to stand - except for people who grew up just like you, that is. In which Tony Stark goes to Oxford University and meets people and makes enemies and makes friends and changes people's minds and falls in love - amongst other tales of mishap and adventure.
you can call me babe for the weekend by complicationstoo
Tony left his small town for Los Angeles after high school, leaving behind everything to pursue his dream. Ten years later, he comes back for the first time and finds that some things are impossible to let go of.
Brave New World by valdomarx for enkiduu
Captain Hydra, the Avengers' long-time foe, and Iron Man, the mysterious masked Avenger, find themselves transported to a strange alien planet. The place is beautiful, but it's also apparently sentient and has taken a perverse interest in them.
Steve agrees to a truce with Iron Man for now, at least until he finds his time to strike.
That is, if the trees don't get them first.
Good For You by youcancallmearrow
Steve doesn't understand why Tony dates people who treat him poorly. Tony doesn't understand why Steve cares.
The rest is bad choices, good choices, rehab, milkshakes, paintball, YouTube videos, couples therapy and learning to put the past in the past.
Or: How Tony finds his happy ending.
but come ye back by Red (S_Hylor)
When the night is cold and the sky is open, Tony goes to talk to the past Sheriff of Timely.
your ivy grows by complicationstoo
Tony has been trapped in an arranged marriage for years, isolated and withering under Ty's heavy hand. Until one night at a bar in Brooklyn changes everything.
It Had To Be You (Wonderful You) by tinystark616
During a party in Avengers Tower, Steve confesses to Tony that he's never slept with anyone.
#stevetony#stony#stony fic recs#stevetony weekly#steve rogers#tony stark#iron man#captain america#stevetony fic#stony fic#fic rec
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Why is Lisa Frankenstein getting Jennifer’s Body treatment???!! SPOILERS FOR LISA FRANKENSTEIN BELOW!!
Personally, I think it’s ironic because Lisa Frankenstein is IN the Jennifer’s Body cinematic universe. Also, those of y’all that think Cole Sprouse is obnoxious only watched Riverdale and you see him as a child/teen, his romance movies are SO good. ANYWAY, here are MY reasons I loved the movie and think other people loved the movie
1. The villains in the story get what they deserve in a movie and revenge way. Like, you tried to send me to an asylum mostly bc you don’t like me and you tried to rape me and (I don’t think Michael Trent totally deserved it, but it was hysterical) you totally were flirting with me up the wazoo, then ur calling me kid and sleeping w/ my sister??? Seriously?? When you both knew I liked him/you?
2. The main character gets what she wants and there is little struggle with it 🤷♀️
3. The main characters love interest is genuinely interested in her and a total package and respects the SHIT out of her and would do anything (literally) for her.
4. It’s silly and shit doesn’t make sense but it’s not completely thrown out the window. For example “his ear and hand started working and he started looking normal just bc of getting electrocuted in a tanning bed??” Yes, electricity, Frankensteins monster, don’t hurt urself thinking about it. It equally doesn’t take itself seriously while also giving quick explanations that don’t make you turn your head at the absurdity of it.
5. The VISUALS??!!! They are BRIGHT and CLEAR and VERY MUCH 80S. Usually movies are so dark and dull, this was NOT.
6. The soundtrack??? I mean, come ON. Can’t Fight This Feeling Anymore?? Being THEIR song??!!! AHHHHH
7. There are VERY queer hints and most people agree the creature is trans and got a phalloplasty 🤷♀️🤷♀️ (me included)
8. Lisa continuing the ‘ax murdering’ that began with her mom and not even batting an eyelash. Here’s the thing, Lisa DEFINITELY is not mentally stable, but neither is the Creature and they purposefully didn’t make an attempt to have her be like “oh no!!! Don’t kill them!!!” Exception being Taffy bc Taffy was kind to her.
9. It’s goth and horny and funny which it’s ALL of the boxes, especially these days.
10. The Dammit, Janet reference!!!!!
There’s definitely more but this movie was SO good and I can’t wait for another one!!!!!!!!!!
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