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hairmetal666 · 1 year

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Eddie's at a party, lunch box in tow, and he's making a fucking killing.

He sets up shop in the crowded kitchen, but that doesn't stop him from spotting King Steve in the living room. Harrington's face is still fucked up from the fight with Hargrove, and he's tipping a cup almost vertically into his mouth. He's not too surprised when--the next time he spots the jock--he has a can of beer in each fist.

More customers flood up to him, and he can't help but be a little grateful for the distraction. Harrington is one unrequited crush he just can't kick.

Lunch box cleaned out, Eddie heads outside for a smoke. He's fishing his cigarettes out of his jacket pocket when he hears a snuffling sort of shuffle that sends his heart racing.

He edges forward, just enough to make out the heap of a person half-heartedly sitting up against the house. A person in fitted blue jeans, tight polo, and Member's Only jacket; swoop of chestnut hair catching in the flash of fire from Eddie's Zippo.

"Harrington?"

The guy startles, stability wavering, eyes blinking too much. "Munson?"

"You alright, man?" He asks, though he can already tell that Steve is most definitely not.

Steve shrugs. "Why do you care?" It's not mean, sounds genuinely curious.

Eddie gets it. He has no reason on earth to show concern about King Steve. In answer, he taps his boot against Steve's sneaker, giving him a small smile. "Not sure. But I'm here, so..."

"Just needed some air. Clear my head."

"How much have you had to drink?" Eddie asks.

"One or two,"

"Dozen?"

Steve laughs. "You're funny. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"I've heard," Eddie says, can't help but laugh a little too. "Wanna talk about what's going on?"

Eddie thinks that'll be a "no," but then: "Nancy dumped me."

"Yeah, big news."

"Ugh, people are talking about it?" Steve whines. It's really cute and Eddie hates himself for noticing. Hates himself more when Steve loses his balance, tips onto Eddie's shoulder, and Eddie doesn't tip him back.

Eddie can tell that Steve isn't fully with him anymore. He's a little afraid to leave the guy alone, so Eddie talks about the latest Hellfire campaign. Sober Steve Harrington probably has no idea what dnd is, but the drunk version is kind of a rapt audience.

He's just explaining about owlbears when Steve's voice, soft and sad, says "I just want someone to love me, you know?"

The admission renders Eddie speechless for a second, his chest fucking aching for the jock. He says "Oh, Stevie," knows he sounds too sad, is sure of it when Steve's nose wrinkles (it's cute; it's so fucking cute. Eddie hates himself for noticing).

Before he can backtrack, Steve slumps over, body going limp as he passes out. "Jesus H Christ," Eddie barks.

With a heavy sigh, and way too much fondness, Eddie stands. "Let's get you home, sweetheart."

He gathers Harrington up in his arms--dude is heavy--and carries him around to his van.

---

Steve wakes up, head throbbing and tongue fuzzy, with no idea how he got home and into bed. Can't really recall anything after he stumbled outside, aside from talking to Eddie Munson. But maybe that was a dream? Either way, he's home, not really any worse for wear. It's enough to let him forget all about it; what's one drunken party in a life full of them?

That Wednesday, he opens his locker after the final bell, and a Hershey bar falls out. He picks it up, flipping it over to see a note on the foil wrapping, "thought you might need something sweet to cheer you up." It's not signed, and Steve slips it into his backpack, knowing he's got a silly smile on his handsome face.

The little gifts continue to show up once or twice a week. Candy, plastic vending machine toys, sketches of the school grounds, caricatures of classmates and teachers. Sometimes they even come with a note in handwriting he doesn't recognize.

Along with the little treats, he starts seeing Eddie Munson kind of everywhere. And it's not like Steve hadn't seen him before--guy was hard to miss--but he was never around this often. Wasn't around this often and he and Steve had never shared a smile, a quick bob of the head, a quiet hello.

It isn't long before they're talking. Nothing much, nothing serious. Complaining about teachers, about classmates; sharing weekend plans. Only now Steve can't pretend to not notice the way Eddie dimples up when he smiles, the subtle muscles that bunch under the sleeves of his Hellfire Club shirt, the long litheness of his legs. Steve knows he's attracted to other guys, it's just that he didn't realize he'd be attracted to Eddie.

The gifts keep coming. Once, he opens his locker to find a plastic ring fashioned into a golden crown and a note that says, "made me think of you, Stevie." There's something about the "Stevie" that catches deep in his brain, but he can't make it connect to anything.

A few months later, Steve opens his locker and pulls out a drawing. This one--it's of him. He's gazing out into space in a way that managers to be dreamy and wistful. The Steve in the drawing is lovely, and it makes something clench deep in his gut, that someone sees him like this.

Steve tries to be more aware of the people in his surroundings, to figure out who his admirer is. He's not very good at it, even as more sketches of him--all depicting him as a gorgeous, ethereal thing he definitely isn't--show up in his locker. Especially when, so often these days, the person he sees the most is Eddie.

---

The presents in his locker continue into April, and would probably last until the end of the school year, but Steve's got a migraine starting. He keeps aspirin in his locker, gets a hall pass out of English to get some.

When he reaches his locker, though, someone is already there, with the door open. Someone in ripped black jeans, heavy black boots, a black leather jacket, and patch covered denim vest.

"Munson?" He asks. His heart beats so hard it reverberates in his ears, making it hard to hear.

Eddie jumps back, hands fluttering, face flushing bright red. "Ste--Harrington! I--uh--," he's backing up, his hands held out from his body, like he's pushing Steve away even though they aren't touching.

"Were you--?" Steve tries to ask, but the words won't quite come. There's familiar warmth low in his stomach, a twisting that has nothing to do with his impending migraine.

"I wasn't doing anything, I swear," Eddie says. He's breathing hard, eyes too bright, and Steve thinks he might be about to cry, but then the metalhead is turning away, starting to run.

"Eddie, wait!" Steve calls, chasing after him without much thought. "Please!"

Eddie doesn't stop until after they've crashed out one of the side exits, are alone outside.

"It was you? Leaving the--?"

Eddie nods, presses his hands to his eyes. "Sorry, I'm sorry, Harrington. I just--"

"Don't be sorry," Steve begs. "It's been--I liked it."

"Even now that you know they're coming from the freak?" Eddie spits. He still hides his face behind his hands.

"It's sort of been the best part of my year, if I'm being honest."

Only now does the metalhead remove his hands, blink back at Steve, dark eyes wide with shock. "Really?"

"Yeah. It made me feel-- important, I guess? Like, maybe someone saw me as something more than King Steve."

Eddie smiles now, looks down at the pavement. "I just didn't want you to think that you weren't--" he stops then, presses his mouth tight.

"Didn't want me to think what?"

"That you weren't loved, Stevie."

The statement hangs between them, Eddie's face pinking again, as the words wrap their way around Steve's heart. Loved. That he's loved. It clenches at every part of him, and he surrounds himself with the truth of it, what all those little presents were saying without words.

"Eddie, I--" he's overwhelmed by the gesture, the meaning, the reciprocal buzz in his chest, because Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson, loves him, and this fact is turning Steve's world on it's head in the best way.

"I'm sorry, Steve, really. Please don't hate me, or--or--"

"It means so much to me," Steve says, his voice a little broken. He reaches a hand out, slow, telegraphing the movement. "Can I?" He whispers.

Eddie nods, and Steve strokes the skin of his face with his thumb. "Thank you."

The metalhead nods, leaning into Steve's touch, they shift close, until their foreheads meet, until they share the same air. They stand that way for a while, long enough that they hear the bell ringing, and only then does Steve break their quiet. "Eds?"

"Yeah, Stevie?"

"You wanna hangout some time?"

Eddie laughs. "Yeah. I really, really do, sweetheart."

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #one shot #secret admirer #fluff #a tiny bit of angst #friends to lovers #feelings realization #feelings confession #pining eddie munson #oblivious steve harrington #mutual crushes #high school au #eddie is in love with steve

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kat-rose-griffith · 14 days

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Eloise: have you told him that you’re whistledown yet???

Penelope: listen, a lot has happened in the last hour. I need a minute

#bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #polin #lady whistledown #imagine your friend you’ve loved since you were kids comes in ruins your proposal in front of everyone chases you down #confesses his feelings to you bangs you in your carriage proposes to you then immediately takes you to his house to tell his family #and now you have to figure out how to tell him your deepest secret that has effected him that you never thought you’d ever have to tell him

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ronanlynchbf · 1 month

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#rereading trc while simultaneously falling back into aftg stuff by virtue of reading tsc and thereby transporting myself back to when i #was sixteen but it's fine it's totally fine like it's whatever 😁👍#r.txt #anyway. me when – me when i – me when i'm trying to tell my best friend that i'm gay but i'm also trying to tell him i can take stuff from #my dreams and i took my now pet raven from my dreams like from my head i'm a dreamer but also that's kind of the same thing but also it's #really not but also it is bc it's an allegory but also that's not the only thing the dreaming is an allegory for and also i'm scared to tel #him like i'm terrified actually and i don't want to tell him but also i need to tell him but also he already knows but i don't know that he #knows and also i was goinggggg to tellllllll himmmmmm arghhhhhhh #this scene is soooooooooo like. like AOUGH. ARGH OUGH AGH AOUGHHHHHH #<- sounds of a guy taking minus xp damage with every word read of this stupid scene. he literally was going to tell gansey 😕.........#trc #ronsey #like i need 2 lay down. he came out there to tell him......the timbre of his voice being described as strange&initially unrecognizable....#i read this part like. 2 weeks ago idk. smth of the sort. and i'm STILL thinking abt it....you came out for something.....when you'd made u #ur mind to confess but ur mouth betrayed you in the end......associated with secrets and guilt......MAN.....

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flumet · 13 days

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Love confession fanart of Tokoyama✨

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xysidhe · 2 years

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On the topic of Regulus' patronus, since I won't let this die until I see it in a fic even if I have to write it myself.

Regulus: Why can't I get this bloody charm to work

Remus: Happy thoughts, Reg. Happy thoughts.

Regulus: What part of my upbringing gave you the illusion I have those?

Remus: Happy. Thoughts

Peter: Think like that fairy! Tonker Bells!

Remus: Tinker Bell. Purebloods.

Regulus: Could you two stop arguing over muggle cartoons so I can focus!

Regulus: Expecto Patronum!

Sirius: Bloody hell Reggie, is that a lion?

Regulus: Oh.

James: Oh.

Remus: He's beautiful Reg, what are you going to name him?

Regulus: Helios

Sirius: You're going to name your patronus after the sun?

Regulus: It keeps to the family theme doesn't it?

Sirius: Mother would have a fit. Looks like both her sons are more Gryffindor than Black. This is bloody brilliant! Told you Reggie, you should've been sorted into Gryffindor!

James: I think his patronus is perfect for him.

Regulus: I think so too.

#just imagine its an AU where Regulus ran away with Sirius to the Potters #Regulus likes to hang out with the Maraduers in the Gryffindor Common Room #James was trying not to cry after he saw the patronus #James did in fact cry after he heard the name #James remembered all the times Regulus called him 'my sun' and 'sunshin' and he KNEW #they havent said I love you yet but this was somehow even more profound #Remus is just eaying his chocolate amused by Regulus and James being idiots in love #remus knew they were in love and thats why he convinced Regulus to practice the Patronus in the common room #Sirius isnt actually unaware of the secret romance between his best friend and brother but he has a bet going with Peter #they want to see who will confess to him firsr #itll be James #while drunk #jegulus #marauders headcanon #incorrect marauders quotes #dead gay wizards #regulus deserved better #regulus x james #regulus arcturus black #james deserved better #james fleamont potter #james x regulus #starchaser

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shewrites7 · 2 years

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Only a Matter of Time

steve harrington x fem!reader

summary - You and Steve decide to spend the whole day together, as friends of course, and all you can do is try your best not to stare at his lips. in other words, The Three Times You Want To Kiss Steve Harrington And The One Time You Do.

type - one shot

word count [6.4k]

tags: Steve Harrington x f!reader, friends to lovers, pining, secret crushes, head over heels in love, a fun day with steve, movie dates and a kiss underneath the night sky. (no specific mention of appearance, race, etc.)

warnings: none

a/n: check it out on my ao3!!

10:30 AM

You didn't know how many more of these car rides you could take. You were sitting next to Steve in the passenger seat of his car, with three middle schoolers in the back seat that were bound to push you to the brink of insanity if they kept it up. It, meaning, the way they loved to torture you about how you felt about Steve.

They'd picked apart everything about the two of you, mentioning Steve to you when you were alone, giggling in the back seat every five minutes when car rides like these happened. You'd never mentioned to them how you felt about Steve—you weren't even sure what you felt. But, whatever they thought, they were certainly sure of it. And they were relentless.

You wondered if they did the same to Steve, if they ever made fun of him or had him blushing like you did when they'd mention his name to you. He acted practically oblivious to everything that came from the backseat, vision properly aimed at the road as he drove. Meanwhile, all you could do was try your best to look straight ahead, to not glance to your left at Steve. To not notice the way his hands gripped the steering wheel firmly, sleeves rolled up to show his forearms, or the way he tucked his bottom lip when he was really focused on the road, it coming out glossed over and pink.

God, you really had to stop. You weren't doing anything to help your case. Even if you were looking forward to today, your body tensed at the idea of close contact with Steve all day long.

You and Steve were supposed to share the day together doing fun things, like you'd do with him all the time, practically every week. You would spend the entire day in each other's company, no worries, just having a good time. It was tradition, your special thing. Today though, for some reason, felt different. Your leg was bouncing up and down and you were sure the kids had noticed how quiet you'd been. They notice everything.

After you dropped them all off at the arcade, it would be just you and Steve. Steve and you, completely alone. Nobody around to stop you from falling victim to his smile, or unwillingly letting your mind wander towards the tip of the iceberg, the fine line that echoed out to you, what if? A place you knew you shouldn't even think about, but you couldn't help it.

Steve may have never appeared to notice the mess of thoughts going on inside of you, but the others always did.

"How much slower could you drive?" Dustin called up to the front seat, voice full of attitude and impatience. He sat behind Steve in the driver's seat, squished next to Lucas and Max. Steve and you had agreed to drop the three off at the arcade before spending your Funday together, but you started regretting the decision more and more as the minutes ticked by and they still managed to come up with more to say.

"I'm going the speed limit, Henderson," replied Steve, shutting him down. You heard Dustin scoff from behind.

"You'd think he'd wanna get there faster to get to his date." The three snickered in the back in agreement with themselves.

"Date?" Steve asked, peeking in the rearview mirror with interest. You sighed. Here we go.

"The one you two are going on today, that you do, like, every week." Max's tone hinted at the supposed obviousness of the answer that left you sputtering.

"Max, cut it out, " you said, giving her a firm look. You saw her smirk flash at you evilly from the rearview mirror. She was the worst of them. "This has never been a date."

You saw her shrug. "I mean, it's practically a date." The other two murmured in agreement and you wanted to make the unethical choice of forcing them out of the car to walk the rest of the way, but soon enough you noticed Steve pulling into the parking lot of the arcade, and your thoughts were soothed when you realized you wouldn't have to.

"Enough, you guys." You rolled your eyes with a stern tone, but neither of those things masked the flush that you knew had risen into your face. "We're here now. Out."

Sensing your anger, the trio rushed out of the car and into the arcade, waving goodbye hurriedly and turning around, but not before Max threw a look from over her shoulder to you from behind the car's windshield, one that made you shake your head softly to yourself. You shut the suggestion down mentally. You had to.

Trying to pull yourself out of your thoughts and what the kids had been hinting at, you took a peek over at Steve, who seemed unfazed. Had he had any sort of reaction to what the kids were teasing about? Had he even been focused enough to catch on? Steve's face was anything but revealing at this moment, eyes following Dustin, Max, and Lucas as they hurried into the arcade.

Your heart always bloomed in your chest sweetly when you watched the way Steve looked at the kids, ones he'd grown so accustomed to. They were like his family, more than just some random preteens to him. You'd never failed to notice the way they looked at him too, like he was a safe space for them. They'd been so comfortable around him from the start, and you knew he'd do anything for the bunch of them.

It was sweet, and so Steve. He'd always been caring like that, protective and determined. At least, that's how you'd always seen him. You watched him as he watched the three of them, making sure they got in safely. Seconds passed, and then your glances at him pulled you in to study him in the same way you were helpless to ever actually keep yourself from doing, no matter how hard you tried.

Your eyes flickered over to his, and then down to his lips and up again, and you cringed at yourself as you shut your eyes tightly. You were doing it again. It was like your brain ran amuck at times like this. You weren't sure you knew how to stop it.

"Steve! Steve!" came a voice, Dustin's voice. When you looked out to the arcade, Dustin was running back towards the car, hand on his hat to keep it on his head from his pace.

Steve looked at you and then turned back to Dustin, confused. "Whoa, what's wrong?" he yelled. Dustin practically sprinted to his side of the car with a pound on the window. Steve lowered it.

"I need some cash."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Of course," he drawled, but he was most definitely laughing, hardly hesitating before digging into his wallet and handing the kid a few bucks, to which he smiled gratefully and ran off again, Steve's face wearing a warm smile at his retreating form.

You swore you had heart eyes.

Steve laughed to himself and watched Dustin leave again before turning to you, amusement glinting in his eye. He shrugged with a crooked grin that you wanted to get as close to as possible.

"Kids, what can ya say?"

You just laughed, breathlessly. You could say a lot of things.

12:30 PM

You thought it'd be dark enough in the movie theater to keep it from happening. To stop your heart from doing that agonizingly annoying thing that made it beat ten times louder in your chest and had your eyes glancing down to Steve's lips more times than you'd like to admit.

You and Steve's first destination on your traditional day of fun had been the Movies, a classic tradition. You'd been grateful that Steve had suggested the downtown movie complex. There's no way anything could have happened in a dark theater, right? Wrong, so wrong you could've laughed.

You didn't know how much time had passed since the movie started—it could've been minutes, it could've been an hour. Some action movie was playing, but to you, it was practically background noise. Gunshots and the loud whirr of a helicopter were playing on the big screen that had Steve clearly immersed in it all, meanwhile, all you're thinking about is just how much Steve's brown eyes could glitter in the low light of the theater.

Even in the darkness, you could see the way his long lashes brushed against his cheek, the way soft, chocolate strands of hair brushed against his forehead and had your fingers itching to run through them. And, of course, how his lips glistened every time he went back for more buttery popcorn. Steve's lips took up an embarrassingly large amount of space in your brain.

You needed to distract yourself. You knew that this, whatever it was, couldn't keep happening. At least not while you still were painfully aware of how you and Steve stood. Friends, and just that. You wanted to drill the fact into your mind, keep it from wandering to places it shouldn't.

You stuck your hand in the popcorn bucket you and Steve were sharing, thinking desperately that having something to snack on would shake you out of whatever was going on up inside your brain. With a feeling that spread up right through your arm like wildfire, you realized you and Steve had reached for popcorn at the same time. Your hand had grazed his, fingertips brushing against each other softly.

You turned to face Steve right away without thinking, and he was already looking back at you with a smile and a soft, breathy laugh. If only he knew the way that simple touch sent fireworks straight to your chest so quickly you swore your heart skipped a beat. You smiled back at him and looked back towards the screen, trying to pretend as if you'd been focused on the movie all along.

Then, you felt Steve come closer to you, face angled next to yours as his eyes stayed focused on the movie. He was leaning in even closer to talk to you and your body went tense in your seat.

"Hey," he whispered to get your attention, not knowing that he'd already had all of it for, like, the whole movie. "What's your rate of the movie so far?"

You scrambled for an answer that didn't make it sound like you'd been distracted the whole time.

"Good," you breathed, like an idiot. "It's, uh, it's really good so far." You'd settled on "good," a safe answer. If it'd been bad, you figured, Steve would've been talking your ear off in critiques by now.

Somehow, he leaned in even closer, and the heat from his body radiated around you, impossibly warm and steady. Your body didn't budge at all, too scared to brush against another body part of Steve and turn you into even more of a flustered, sweating frenzy.

"Don't you think the secret agent guy's a little unrealistic? I mean, where'd he get that bomb from? And how does nobody recognize him without his glasses?"

You wanted to listen to Steve, you really did. But, his breath fanned against the side of your neck and you could feel the hair that flopped in front of his face brushing against your cheek. It made it pretty hard to, but you nodded with a tight-lipped smile like you'd drank in every word.

"Totally, yeah."

You thought you'd fooled him. He'd hummed in response and didn't say anything else for a good ten seconds, but that was the last of it. Steve knew you too well.

"What's going on?" he asked with his attention now turned fully on you. "You usually chat the whole way through these kinds of movies. That's why we sit in the back, 'member?"

His eyes peered into yours with such concern and a furrow of his strong brows and Holy, he was touching your shoulder. You shrugged like the wind hadn't just been knocked out of you.

"Yeah, sorry, I don't know what's the matter." You offer him a weak smile. "I think I'm just, uhm, hungry." What?

"Sure," he said, and his voice sounded so kind and positive and not judgy because he was Steve and he was perfect.

He even went to pick up the popcorn bowl to give to you, but you reached for it too, and then you were knocking into it and popcorn was everywhere, as in, all over Steve's lap.

"Oh my god Steve, I'm so sorry," You whisper yelled, freaking out and not thinking straight at this moment, at all. Or, really, for the last couple hundred moments. You fumbled to pick up the bowl from his lap with one hand and scoop up popcorn from his lap in the other.

"It's okay," came Steve's amused voice, but you didn't stop, not when your hands brushed against his legs and not when you dropped the bowl a second time and had to re-scoop what you'd already scooped. Your face was hot and you didn't take a moment to think about what you were doing until you saw Steve shift in his seat a little. He cleared his throat a little bit from next to you, the sound almost like a coughed laugh, and you stopped your hands in their place. What were you doing?

You were all over Steve's thighs, and way too close. Too close to him, too close to his lap, too close to... What were you doing?

You were utterly horrified at yourself, and your eyes must have shown it because Steve laughed. It was sweet and clearly trying to soothe the awkwardness, but you still were frozen in place and had to quickly take a deep breath down before you forced your arms back in your lap and shamefully looked anywhere but to your right at the boy next to you.

You peeked over with dread slowly at Steve, who you made eye contact with before he started laughing to himself again, silently of course. The movie was still playing, but you hadn't watched a second of it in the past ten minutes. You were sure he could see how much you were blushing, even in the dark. You swore you could see the tips of Steve's ears flushed red.

"Steve, I'm so sorry," you said again, worrying even more when he stood up from his seat. Was this the time he decided to escape from you?

You were about to get up too, but he held out two hands to stop you. "Stop worrying, alright? You're fine, really."

He picked up the fallen popcorn bowl and flashed you a warm smile. "I'm just gonna go get us some more popcorn or something. You want anything? Candy?"

You looked up at him, shaking your head wordlessly and wanting to crawl into a hole.

"Alright, be back in a few."

He took off down your row of seats, turning back and waving a little at you before climbing down the rest of the steps.

You waved goodbye back, probably too late for him to see anyway, but cursed yourself internally because, God, you could've really gone for some skittles at that moment. Anything to forget about what had just happened. You were drained beyond belief and delirious. And the day had only just begun.

3:30 PM

You didn't know what was wrong with you today, but you knew you had it bad. You'd always felt little butterflies in Steve's presence, but it seemed like today they were just impossible to tame, and they made you do things like spill hot popcorn into his lap. Oh, and now? The butterflies were just refusing to be pushed down.

But you couldn't blame yourself, not at a time like this. Steve was being absolutely amazing, beyond dreamy. You were both at the state fair and knee-deep in fried goods and lemonade that was both sweet and sour.

Steve had spotted one of those fair games that you reminded him were an easy way to lose your money and fast, but he shook his head and started towards the milk bottle toss booth, taking your hand in his.

Ignoring the fuzzy feeling that came from his hand in yours, you shook your head as he asked the man for a set of baseballs and handed him a few singles.

"Steve, you know these are rigged," you reasoned. He looked down at you with a smirk, waving one of the baseballs around in front of your face.

"Not for Steve Harrington. Just watch."

He motioned towards the walls of the carnival booth, all lined with too many stuffed animals to name. Steve put a hand on your shoulder, pointing towards all of the different stuffed bears and more.

"Pick a stuffed animal," he said, eyes glimmering with confidence. "Any one."

Your jaw dropped as you looked at him, but you were smiling and couldn't help the way a laugh tore from you.

"Fine, fine." You took a second to look around at the options, aware of the worker waiting for Steve to take his turn.

"Maybe the pink panda bear, up there." You pointed to a stuffed animal at the very top, one that happened to be one of the biggest ones in the booth. Steve nodded easily and turned to the worker.

"What do I have to do for the pink panda up there?" He pointed to the one you'd mentioned. The man's eyes followed before his eyebrows raised as if the preposition was impossible.

"You gotta knock all six down, one shot."

Leave it to you to pick the most unachievable option. Steve rubbed a hand over his chin, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips.

"I have to say," he said turning to you, "you play a hard game. But I will get you that panda bear. Count on it."

He mock-saluted you before turning back towards the inside of the booth, unfazed, where six milk bottles sat stacked on top of each other in a pyramid.

He took a deep breath in and shook out his shoulders before picking up the first ball and throwing it at the milk bottles with great force. With a wince, you saw the top three bottles fall to the ground, three left standing.

"Crap," said Steve, brows furrowed. Almost with no effort, he threw the next two baseballs back-to-back and knocked down two more, but the middle bottle was left standing. You tried not to pay attention to the way the muscles in his arms flexed at each throw.

Steve was visibly frustrated, but the man working the booth seemed even surprised that he did that well. With a smile plastered on his face, he handed Steve a reasonably sized teddy bear.

"Great," remarked Steve, who was looking at the teddy bear in his hands like it was a piece of trash.

You took the stuffed animal from his hands and held it to your chest.

"It's adorable Steve, I love it."

Steve just shook his head with an annoyed sigh, hands on his hips. "It's not the pink panda you wanted."

You smiled, trying to comfort him with a hand on his bicep. "Don't worry about it, really it's-"

"No," he cut in, eyes looking determinedly into yours, unwavering. "I'm getting you that panda if it's the last thing I do."

His tone was firm and you wanted to melt at how adorably stubborn he was being. "Steve," you tried to call, to tell him he really, really, didn't need to, but he was already asking for another set of baseballs. You were all too aware of the small group of people who were beginning to line up behind you and Steve, probably watching this all unfold.

Steve didn't seem to notice. He locked his eyes on the milk bottles, a look of determination on his face that reminded you of the days you'd watch him on the Hawkins High basketball court during the heated moments of a game. He blew out a puff of air, trying to focus. He stood still for a few moments and then BAM, you blinked and all of the milk bottles were lying scattered on the floor with a single throw from Steve.

You blinked. "Oh my gosh." Your jaw was on the floor.

"We have a WINNER!" Yelled the man, his smile genuine. He splayed out an arm at the wall of stuffed animals behind him. "What'll it be, young man?"

"I'll take the pink panda bear, the big one," Steve said confidently, not missing a beat. He was grinning from ear to ear, his smile contagious.

With a nod, the man went to get the very stuffed animal you'd pointed at just a moment ago, having to get a step stool just to reach it.

He finally managed to get it down, and when he did, you could see just how huge the stuffed animal really was.

"For your girlfriend," said the worker, handing Steve the panda.

You coughed. What?

Some claps came from behind you and Steve, and you turned around to see at least twenty people standing behind you and Steve in line, watching with happy smiles on their faces. Did they think you were a couple, too?

Steve didn't make any move to correct the man, too excited and carried away with taking the stuffed animal and immediately handing it to you.

"For you, my dearest," he said jokingly, only that it didn't seem much like a joke, especially not to the worker who smiled down at the two of you like he was watching a happy couple.

The weight of the panda bear almost had you dropping to the ground. It was almost half your size, fluffy and pink with a bow tie and you absolutely loved it.

"Steve, oh my gosh," you said, trying to meet his eyes from over the panda bear. "You shouldn't have."

He shrugged, waving a hand dismissively.

"Of course I should've." He just smiled down at you with this huge grin on his face. "Anything for my girl."

He didn't stop smiling, and you could feel your knees almost buckle, but you couldn't tell if it was from the weight of the bear or Steve's words. Did he know just what he was saying? The words were playful, too good to be true, but they only sounded sincere coming from his mouth.

Your eyes got lost in his, and, in the moment, you wanted nothing more than to drop the panda to the ground and take a turn holding Steve in your arms instead.

But then you noticed all the people still waiting to take their turn at the milk can toss, no doubt watching the both of you, and you broke eye contact, clearing your throat a little.

"C'mon," you said, motioning to the right with your head because your arms were occupied with the toy. "Let's get the expert milk bottle-tosser something to drink. On me."

Steve stood still for a beat, still looking at you, before shaking his head quickly and clearing his throat with a nod.

"Yeah, let's."

He stepped to your side, put his hand on the small of your back, and you both walked forward, leaving the booth. His touch was anything but steadying.

"I'm paying, though."

You rolled your eyes softly. "Oh please, you won this for me, it's only fair."

Steve looked down at you, and to your surprise shrugged his shoulders. "Okay, fine," he said. Then, he sprinted out in front of you.

"Only if you get there first!" He hollered from over his shoulder.

"Steve!" You yelled with a laugh, voice wobbly as you tried to run with this ginormous stuffed animal in your grasp. Your head barely poked out from behind it.

With just a second more gone by, Steve had run far into the crowd of people and you'd managed to lose a clear view of him. All you could hear was his gleeful laugh that rang through the warm summer air from in front of you, and you wanted to bottle up the sound. You could never get enough of this boy.

9:00 PM

The rest of the time you and Steve had spent at the fair had been the textbook definition of perfect, if perfect included having to hide your heart eyes from Steve every time he did something you found swoon-worthy. Which, because he was Steve and you were you, was about every five minutes.

The hot summer sun had faded into the horizon, leaving the sky to turn slowly into a dark blue that had the streetlights turning on and tinting everything in warm, yellow lighting.

You and Steve were walking side by side, cheeks hurting from how much you were smiling. Steve had always had that effect on you.

He'd taken to holding both of the stuffed animals he'd won for you at the carnival game hours before, despite your protests that you could carry them both on your own. (You couldn't). But, somehow, Steve could hold both with one arm, and hold your hand with the other. A man of many talents, he'd called himself. You smiled at the memory.

Though you'd been fighting your tiredness for the past hour, you let out a yawn into the nighttime air. Steve noticed right away.

"You tired?" he asked, and you lifted your shoulders a little.

"I'm alright. Long day."

Steve nodded silently in agreement, before he stopped abruptly in his place, eyes looking off to something in the distance. "Would you be up for one more ride?"

Following his line of vision, you caught sight of the Ferris wheel that you somehow hadn't gotten to riding yet today, a sight to see with bright lights in juxtaposition to the darkening night sky.

You scratched your head with the hand that wasn't holding Steve's, acting like you were deep in contemplation.

"Hmm, I don't know," you said, the side of your mouth turning up into a smirk at Steve's annoyance.

"Well," he said, the beginning of his famous grin creeping up on his features. "I guess you don't have a choice then."

Before you could say anything, Steve was crouching down and lifting you up with a single arm, throwing you over his shoulder with an embarrassing amount of ease as he started jogging towards the Ferris wheel.

"Steve!" you managed to yell from where your head was hanging, laughter bubbling out from you. You could feel the heat rushing to your face that you could surely blame on the blood rushing to your head from hanging upside down over Steve's shoulder, and not from the feeling that shot through your body from Steve's hold on the back of your bare thighs. He ran quickly, but all you could see was his back. Not that you were complaining.

Before you knew it, Steve was setting you back down on the ground, only to grab onto your hand and pull you towards the Ferris wheel that was a whole lot closer to you now, almost right in front of you.

Steve pulled a rope of tickets from his pocket and held them out to the woman running the ride. She eyed over the two of you and then speedily shook her head.

"No riding with the stuffed animals."

You only now remembered that Steve was still holding both of them. How he had managed to carry the ginormous panda bear and you, you don't know.

"Oh, c'mon," said Steve, but the lady didn't budge. Sighing, Steve reached into his pocket and pulled out a ten-dollar bill. You looked down at your shoes. This man.

"What about now?" He questioned, a suggestive edge to his tone. The woman hardly glanced at the cash. Then, she pointed a firm finger at the exit.

Steve deflated slightly, pocketing the money but politely nodding at the woman before taking hold of your hand again to walk a couple of yards away from the woman.

Steve was looking down at the pavement. You put a hand on his shoulder in what you hoped was reassuring. "Don't worry, the day was amazing, we don't need to go on the Ferris wheel, Steve."

He looked up at you then, looking anything but sad. His eyes were fiery and determined in the same way they'd been when he'd been set on getting you that panda bear. And he'd gotten it.

"No, you don't worry, because we are getting on that Ferris wheel." He held the panda bear closer to him. "No man gets left behind."

Your brows pulled together, nervously. Steve turned to face the Ferris wheel, staring at it while chewing on the inside of his cheek in thought. You didn't want to know what he was planning, but you knew you probably should find out.

"Steve," you called, "what are you thinking about?"

He turned back to face you, body suddenly alight with excitement. "Plan B."

With that, he tightened his grip on your hand and ran ahead, pulling you quickly behind him. And, instead of stopping at the entrance to wear the lady was collecting tickets, he bolted past her, you in tow.

"Steve!" you yelled, at the same time you could hear the lady working the ride shout at the two of you.

Quickly, Steve threw the panda bear stuffed animal he'd won for you and the other teddy bear onto the nearest bench on the ride and lifted you up onto it with an alarming strength that had you flushing pinker than humanly possible. He hopped up onto it too and hooked the chain from the bench across you both to secure you. Your jaw dropped for the umpteenth time that day.

"That was your plan B!" You yelled, out of breath from all the running. The ride hadn't stopped moving the whole time Steve had gotten you both on the ride, and you were already high up in the air.

"I got us on the ride, didn't I?" reasoned Steve, voice raised from the wind that began whipping against the two of you. Steve's hair was already wild, and he had this excited look in his eyes that had your worries fading away and your words of reason dying before they could reach your lips.

Knowing you well enough to see your shakiness, Steve grabbed onto the teddy bear and waved its arms around, pulling a smile from your lips.

"See," he grinned, handing you the bear. "How could you say no to this face?"

You shook your head as you looked down at the bear in your hands, laughter escaping you. You giggled and looked up at Steve who was laughing too, and your giggles turned into loud laughter that rocked the bench back in forth in the air as you both shouted out your laughter into the night.

It took over a minute just to reach the top of the Ferris wheel from its sheer size, and by the time you did, the ride stopped, probably to let on more people on the bottom.

As you looked out into the night, your laughter softly died from your lips as you took in everything around you. The streetlights shining, the hundreds of people down below you, and the stars glistening in the sky. You felt so close to them. The sight was perfect--the whole night was. You'd been having the greatest time with Steve, him being heartachingly sweet the whole day.

Your body was fighting against you, and you gingerly leaned your head onto the shoulder of the giant panda bear in between you and Steve, and when you peaked to your right, Steve's head was resting on the other.

You felt Steve's hand brush against you and interlock his fingers with yours. Something warm and fuzzy bloomed inside your chest as your hands rested against the fluffy stuffed animal, holding each other.

Besides the delicate sounds of the wind rushing past your ears, it was silent up where you and Steve sat. It felt almost like time stopped. You listened closely, hearing the sounds that the breeze brought to your ears. The ringing of a church bell. The music from the carousel down below. It sounded so peaceful and had your eyes fluttering shut.

Behind the safety of your eyelids, your brain started flooding with thoughts of the boy next to you, with memories from the entirety of the day. The car ride with the kids, the fiasco at the movies, the way Steve had won you the stuffed animal you lay on and was spectacularly perfect throughout all of it. He was the most wonderful boy you'd ever met and you wanted to tell him that. You didn't want to have to hide all the adoring thoughts you had about him. It was tiring. And it wouldn't last forever, you knew that. It was only a matter of time before everything came spilling out. You figured now was as good of a time as ever.

You opened your eyes and broke the silence with a soft call of the boy's name. He didn't respond at first, and you wondered if he could even hear you over the wind.

"Hmm?" he said lowly, a soft hum in response. Suddenly, the wind didn't seem so loud anymore. All you could hear was the beating of your own heart as you willed yourself to let words out, anything.

"Do you-" you paused, thinking about what you were about to say. "Do you ever wonder about the things the kids say? Or, you know, what the worker at the milk bottle game said?"

You swallowed. "Not that you have to think about it or anything you, uhm, you just don't ever have a reaction whenever they poke fun at us and I was just wondering if, ugh, sorry this isn't making sense."

You wanted to melt into your seat. Your voice had breaks and pauses in it and you made absolutely no sense. There went your chance. The silence was eating you alive.

"I, uh," came Steve's voice. "Yea. I do."

You swore you felt your heart drop. Wait, what?

"You do?" You wanted to slap yourself at how surprised your voice sounded.

"Yea, I do," he said. Both of you still leaning on the stuffed animal, all you could see was the scene in front of you. You had no idea what Steve's face looked like at the moment, and you didn't know if the fact discouraged you or made you relieved.

"And," came Steve's voice again, slow, like he was just testing the water. "I guess the reason why I never have a reaction to them is because what they're saying just ... never seemed like it was that far of a leap, you know?"

It felt like there were gears in your brain, spinning and smoking, trying to process Steve's words and their meaning. When you stumbled on what they could possibly mean, you didn't feel like it was possible to believe.

You lifted your head from off of the stuffed animal, wanting to finally see Steve's face. When you looked over at him, he was already looking at you, chocolate eyes having never looked so big, having never shone so bright. It was like you could see the stars in the night sky reflected onto his eyes.

You chewed on the skin of your bottom lip.

"Steve I-," you broke eye contact, feeling like you wouldn't be able to get out what you had to say if Steve was gazing at you like that. "I want to say something more, but I just want to be sure I know exactly what you're trying to say."

Taking a breath out, you looked back up at him again. "What are you saying?"

Steve took a moment to respond, looking down at your interlocked hands before holding yours a little tighter.

"I'm saying ... I think about us being together. A lot."

You couldn't help the way your eyebrows raised. You'd wanted this moment to happen for so long, and, now that it was, you were in disbelief that it was even remotely going well.

"And, uhm," you swallowed, "what do you think about it? Us being together?"

"I," he started slowly, eyes working around in thought. "I think that it makes sense. It makes sense, because I've fallen in love with this amazing girl and, that's what you do when you love somebody, right? You get together with them, spend every moment with them." He looked into your eyes, his hopeful and bright. "Do you get what I'm saying?"

You looked back into his eyes, nodding quickly when you realized you hadn't said anything. "Yeah, yeah I do. I guess I'm just trying to take it all in. Inside it's just ... hard to believe."

Steve frowned, softly, never judging. "What about?"

"About how you feel. I never thought ... " you didn't know what you were trying to say, but Steve took hold of your other hand and any words died on your lips.

"You are the most beautiful girl I've ever met. Why wouldn't I fall in love with you? How couldn't I?"

You were melting inside, putty in his hands. Steve was amazing and always had been, but this? You were helpless.

You didn't know if Steve could see how much his words were affecting you, searching his face for a sign of anything. He'd never looked more sincere and vulnerable, eyes looking down at you.

"Well," he said, voice soft. "What do you think about it?"

You offered him a smile, squeezing his hands in yours like he'd done before, foreheads touched as you leaned into him. This time, when you looked down at Steve's lips, you didn't feel like you had to hide it.

"How about I show you what I think?"

Your voice was soft and had Steve's forehead creasing against yours.

"Show me?" he asked, lips tugging upwards in a grin. You wanted to kiss that smile so badly. Press your lips to his, once and for all. So, finally, you did.

When your lips found his, it took only a second before he was pressing his right back into yours. Your hands were still holding each other's, and you moved one set of hands to his thigh, needing to steady yourself because the kiss was everything you'd imagined and more. It was delicate but full of a passion that had your chest twisting.

You moved in tandem with Steve, steady and trying to get as close to each other as you could from your seats. You reached your other hand into Steve's hair, finally getting to run it through the soft strands, the ones at the back of his neck that had him letting out a beautiful sigh into your lips. You didn't want the moment to end, smiling into his lips from pure serotonin with only the moon and stars as your witnesses.

You felt a change in the wind that blew against both of you, and you realized the Ferris wheel had finally started moving again and that you both were nearing the bottom. Pulling back from Steve, you smiled up at him. You felt like you could pull an endless amount of smiles from your chest.

"So," you asked, words soft as you kept playing with his hair because you loved how it felt, and what it did to him. "What do you think?"

Steve looked at you with so much love in his eyes that you couldn't believe you'd never noticed it before.

"I, uh..." he swallowed, cheeks flushed. "I agree."

#steve stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington friends to lovers #friends to lovers #pining #secret crush #love confessions #no use of y/n #steve is a sweetheart #steve is a mom #fun day with steve #crushes #the three times ___#idk how to feel about this one but here it is

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krasytoonz · 8 months

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OMG HOWDYS EXPRESSION ON THE DRAWING YOU JUST POSTED IS ON POINT HBSKJDISODNSL

(I love your art btw :3 )

Meanwhile in gangster au:

(And thank you so much sliceocheese!)

#the difference between royal and gangster howdy is one havent been rejected (yet) HAHA #just kidding just kidding #for royal au they’re not canon it’s just fun drawing them in a cutesy ship because I love friends to lovers #especially (semi) polar-opposites being friends and getting along with each other #while gangster au it’s more like uhhh #secret admiration from howdy to barnaby (he will never confess or admit to liking him)#despite it being very very obvious 💀#welcome home royal au #welcome home gangster au #joke au pls dont take it seriously #laughingstock #howdy x barnaby #barnaby x howdy #beaglepillar #welcome home #welcome home puppet show #krasytoonz #welcome home arg #welcome home fanart #welcome home project #fanart #welcome h #welcomeh #shitpost #howdy pillar #barnaby b Beagle #welcome home howdy #welcome home au #welcome home barnaby

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shhh-secret-time · 2 months

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To be honest, stardew valley has me in such a chokehold. It always has, even before the 1.6.

In such a way that my brain wants to smash my hyperfixation into it. So late at night I'll be awake thinking of this stardew/south park mashup.

Call that bad boy Star Park AU.

But no brain! Bad! We already have too much going on! You have a Secret Soulmate AU. Fantasy AU, A Cowboy AU story staring Kenny that's still in the outline phase, and these one shots!

(Look at the tags to watch me descent into madness)

#like C'mon #it would be so cute and wholesome #ya know #everything south park isn't #its not my fault I think about me and my friends ocs starting a little farm together #i got one friend I rp with #we smash everything into our stardew rp #it ain't even really stardew besides like the layout of the town #I could write something like that up #like Stan and his family are already “farmers”#the heart event where he tells you he fucking hates it #but next heart event he confesses he's starting to associate farming with you #and now...maybe its not so bad?#COME ON #Kenny taking Karen to see your animals and falling in love with the way you're so gentle with her #Kyle finding you passed out in the mines and scolding you for being careless #but he's patching you up while he does it!!!?#Cartman demanding you bring him crops from your farm because #“everyone elses crops taste like dirt and ball sweat! at least I can stomach yours.”#(its the sweetest thing hes ever said tbh)#tweek having his little coffee shop set up there #he gets away from his parents and moves out to the valley because its quiet!#Craig moves out there to study the stars because they're so clear he can almost see all of them without a telescope #Clyde is JUST Alex and you cant change my mind #after the death of his mother he goes to live with his grandparents #Bebe is like a mix of Haley and Emily!#her events would be you helping her get her outfit designs off the ground and using her photography skills to have you model them #Wendy's whole thing would her being the mayors assistant but over heart events you make her believe in herself #and she becomes mayor; fuck you lewis you old fuck #shhh its a secret

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alternis · 1 year

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I think third eye au tim and danny temple should be Besties who kept running into each other during Adventures, first with tim as shiva's apprentice during some kind of king snake & kobra related shenanigans, then again when Tim went solo as third eye and Danny started to recruit kobra members to his "we still worship snakes but we don't Do Evil" organisation

except tim has 0 idea that Danny has been flirting with him since hour three of them knowing each other. totally oblivious.

#bewitched and enchanted by tims autistic rizz etc etc #danny: i tried taking tim to dinner in paris and we got attacked by assassins. I took him to the beach. evil mutant sharks showed up #danny: finally we stayed in and watched movies and cuddled but right when I was gonna confess he said he was glad to have such a Good Frien #tim: ah yes my friend Danny. the only person I trust with the secrets of my past and my identity. we hang out sometimes he's a great guy #third eye au #the birdsnake shippers have successfully convinced me that Danny temple deserves a chance to shoot his shot

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twpsyn-who · 2 years

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Secret Admirer AU where Eddie has been crushing on Steve for years now and once Steve began working at Family Video Eddie made sure to let him little notes stuck to the door daily. He knows it is stupid, but Eddie has always been a romantic at heart.

They are usually lyrics, because Eddie is so far gone at this point he's having at least four songs written about Steve and he could do more. They are vague as fuck, so people wouldn't know useless they were close to Eddie that the songs are about a guy (about king Steve Harrington no less-). There are moments where is just cute little messages like 'Hope you have a good day' or 'Your hair looked extra good today. Any date planned?' or 'At this point is pathetic how much I like you. Stop existing'. He sign them with a big E and praise no one would make the connection. Eddie is 100% ready to deny anything if somehow Steve finds out and comes to kill him for flirting with him via notes.

Meanwhile these two idiots kept finding these notes stuck to the door of Family Video everytime they came to work (and they are the ones opening) and think they are for Robin. Steve is without a doubt teasing Robin about it, singing every time they see a note "Robin, is your secret admirer~" which annoys her to no end. He's having too much fun with it (tho Steve lowkey wished the notes would be for him- that someday someone will do something as silly as this for him) while Robin is straight up suffering because she knows it has to be a boy behind it there is a low population of Hawkins Robin can tell you the three girls which names starts with an E and one of them is a teacher there's no way a girl is behind that note.

They don't really try to find out who's behind them, but Steve makes sure to keep them in the backroom of Family Video because he finds them sweet (especially the lyrics).

Then one day Dustin comes by while Steve's teasing Robin about the day's note and the kid asks him what they are doing and Steve's all like "Teasing Robin about her secret admirer~" and Dustin asks to see the notes and and "That's Eddie's handwriting".

And Steve's laughing. Hard. Meanwhile Robin is panicking like "Eddie?! Like, Munson Eddie??? Drug dealer Eddie?? The one you guys play DnD with?!?!?"

"Yeah! I know his writting, it's him! I didn't knew he had a crush on Robin, though.."

And Robin wants to ignore it. Act like she didn't knew. But Dustin has loose lips and, she thinks, Eddie deserve to be rejected to his face. So she puts a note in his locker the next day for them to meet up during lunch. Eddie, of course, is confused once he sees Robin cuz Buckley??? Getting drugs??? But he doesn't get to talk because she starts rambling and he gets even more confused because when?? did he confess to her???? was that a prank? where those idiots saying bullshit about him again?!?

She ends with "... you're just not my type, that's what I'm trying to say"

And Eddie is even more confused and totally forgot that Steve's not the only one working there because he answers with "Well, you're not my type either Buckley. I don't know what made you think otherwise".

It takes a second for Robin to process the information and when she does she's all "Oh" but internally she's SCREAMING of excitement. Meanwhile Eddie gets to the realization that she's working with Steve and all he can think is 'Shit shit shit run run RUN' before he throws her a half-assed excuse and runs.

#Robin only wants ONE person that understands her suffering romantically speaking and is determined to befriend the shit out of Eddie #alternatively: these two end up being friends over their shared secret and Eddie starts showing up more at the Family Video under the #pretense of seeing Robin. Steve would have thought they were dating if he didn't knew Robin was a lesbian BUT he still thinks he's crushing #on Robin (he knows from experience you don't get over it that easily). So it kinda sucks when Steve starts catching feelings for Eddie #cuz he knows Eddie is having a thing for Robin #but anyway that wasn't my initial followup for the post. it was more along the lines : Robin finds that idiots force him to confess he's #behind the notes she tells him she likes girls then they have a moment of understanding until Robin is all like #'You know Steve actually did enjoy the notes. Found them sweet. You should talk to him more.' cuz she knows Steve likes guys too #matchmaker Robin to the rescue :)#stranger things eddie #stranger things #stranger things steve #stranger things steddie #steddie #stranger things robin #robin buckley #steve harrington #eddie munson

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janora00 · 1 year

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So, @pheobehalliwell had her bachelorette party the other day and we had a murder mystery dinner party. I took the role of Ina Fluencer (she is an - you guessed it - influencer) just because I needed an excuse to wear my heart shaped glasses.

A day before the dinner I spontaneously decided THAT I NEEDED A NEW JACKET FOR MY ROLE. One with fur sleeves, because you know… makes a vague gesture fashion

So I made one (in like 5 hours)

I’m lowkey proud of it, although I just had limited resources and fabrics in my studio.

I also bought press on nails which I only wore for the photos today, because they are impractical as shit. Kudos to everyone who wears them on a daily basis. Can’t recommend. They were cute though.

#janora #personal #murder mystery dinner party #I was not the murderer #and I ate my role up #it was hilarious #always shoved my phone in people faces when they revealed secrets or made confessions #10/10 #would play that role again #you can now book me as your annoying influencer friend for events #I will annoy the shit out of people #might delete my face later

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martyrbat · 2 years

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[ID: a comic page from Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight #192. Harvey Dent is wearing an olive green suit and is holding a brown suit case as he smokes next to a dumpster in an alleyway. Bruce is in his Batman costume and is approaching Harvey from the opening. Harvey says, "You shouldn't have come down here, you know." Batman responds, "I don't know how much time I have on this one.. And Gordon.. Let me down. I expect you to have better info anyway, Harvey." He walks closer as Harvey confesses, "Well, we are building a case against Peter Scotta.. But I gotta tell you.. We're still a long way from anything we can act on." Batman presses, "But you know what he's up to," as he brushes past Harvey to be standing behind him instead.

Harvey turns to look at him. He says, "I wish I did. We're still figuring out who he does buisness with. So please don't break into my office to read the file. Theres nothing you don't already know. We're doing this slow and careful. Not like your stunt at the bank yesterday." Batman looks at him unimpressed. He argues, "If you spend months to build this case, Harvey, he'll already have made his move. He's working on something big, Harvey, and you know it." Harvey contours, "I know a lot of things.. There are lots of things I don't act on." Batman tenses. He starts to ask, "is that a thr-" before Harvey tersely cuts him off, "Sun's out. Better get going." He walks away, leaving Batman to be standing alone in the filthy alleyway. END ID]

#bitches say theyre fine but in all actuality are thinking about the implications of harvey knowing bruce is batman without bruce confessing #it to him - thus making him feel as if bruce aka his childhood best friend that upped and vanished (and left him) without a single word #doesnt trust him with that secret identity or care about him the way harvey has for bruce all these years. that he spent a decade #being haunted by all these what if's just to be met with the heartache of reality #then harvey gets attacked and scarred and two face is born and now bruce will spend the rest of his life asking what would of happened if #harvey knew? if he knew the batman secret if he knew bruce trusted him if he knew he was so unspokenly important? what could of been?#thus making him spend the rest of his life haunted by all these what if's. just to return to the heartache of reality.#to return to mourning a man that isnt even dead. to return to losing your best friend and the possibility of you could had prevented it.#but holding to the hope he'll somehow be alright. because what if?#(bitches are me fyi)#c: batman: legends of the dark knight | i: 192 #crypt's panels #bruce wayne #batman #harvey dent #bruharvey

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softfatboytoy · 11 months

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Tbh, it feel really good to be open with my friends about this side of my life

#I'm always super anxious leading up to the “confession” but no one has ever reacted any way but positive lol #I just really hate keeping secrets and being only partially honest about stuff so it's always very freeing #it helps that my friends are great :)))

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shewrites7 · 2 years

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Three Things I’ll Never Understand

ron weasley x fem!reader

summary - Valentine's Day has never been your favorite holiday. In fact, it was at the bottom of your list. You've never understood it. Just like how you've never understood Ron Weasley, a boy who'd once been one of your friends. Now, it's like he can't even look at you. What happened, those years ago? Will today, Valentine's Day, of all days, be when you finally find out? Do you really want to know?

type - one shot

word count [4.7k]

tags: Ron Weasley x f!reader, friends to strangers?? to lovers, confrontation, idiots in love, valentine’s day, arguing in the rain and a rain kiss. (no specific mention of appearance, race, etc.)

warnings: none

add. - originally posted to my ao3 on 6/25/22. enjoy!

No matter what anybody says, I've never understood the world's love for rain. For rainy weather. To have water droplets pelting down on you randomly while going about your day, with no warning except the gray tint of the day's clouds. All that rain has ever done for me is wet my clothes and leave me walking home with squelching socks. Again, I've never understood the appeal.

That was why just the thought of Lavender Brown's rant about the romantic flair of rain from earlier had set my feet ablaze as I quicken my pace into the Three Broomsticks, water splashing by my feet. The eagerly darkening sky had been practically taunting me all day, about to pour its rain all over Hogsmeade any second. Finally, just when I'd had enough of today, seeing couples left and right, it had.

The door opens with a heavy swoosh as I throw it open, already in a bad mood from the events of the day. How everyone at this school manages to constantly find love within Hogwarts' walls never fails to amaze me. Lavender Brown has been gushing all over this Hufflepuff seventh-year who she has plans with all week. Seamus Finnigan found a new love in a Ravenclaw girl I'd yet to know the name of. And, though she hasn't told me who with, Hermione most definitely has plans with a certain someone this Valentine's Day. Even Harry mustered up the courage to ask out Cho Chang, who he's clearly been fancying for almost a year now.

I'm happy for them; I always am. But that doesn't make the fact that I'm utterly alone any less unbearable.

As I stomp into the Three Broomsticks, my feet make a cringe-worthy gushing sound against the aged wood of the floor. I frustratedly wipe my wet hair from my face, allowing me to spot some of the names I'd mentioned before. Sitting at a booth farther down inside the inn, sits Harry, Hermione, and lastly, Ron, who looks utterly stressed, his hands gripping his hair as he speaks to the two across from him.

Now that I think about it, I haven't heard any mention of Ron having a date this Valentine's Day, but it isn't as if Ron is the type of person to talk to me about his romantic relationships anyway. Rather, talk to me about most things. He's always been more distant around me than any of the others. Whenever I sit with them, it's like Ron goes silent, as if some tension I'm painfully unaware of fills the air. The same thing happens now as I near the trio's booth.

"No, Hermione, I can't just-"

Ron's words die from his lips when he notices me. I just know that Hermione and Harry give him a confused look before they both turn around to spot me coming toward them. Hermione greets me with a kind smile.

"Y/n!" she calls, waving me over.

"Hey, you three," I say, mustering up as much of a happy tone as I can, feeling the way I am. Harry waves at me from inside the booth next to Hermione.

"Y/n," he says cheerfully. I greet him back and turn to Ron to greet him in the same way, and he offers a rather stiff nod and a tug of his lips in response. Nothing out of the ordinary from Ron, so I try not to mention it at all.

"Happy Valentine's Day," Hermione says, something playful sparkling in her eye in a very un-Hermione way. I chew on my bottom lip to keep from sighing.

"Yea, er-, Happy Valentine's Day."

Looking between the two of them, Harry and Hermione, I remember their supposed dates. "Aren't you two supposed to be off with your dates by now?" I can't keep the grim tone out of my voice. Harry and Hermione share a look I can't decipher before turning back to me.

"Yea," Harry replies, "We just took a pit stop to speak with Ron here." He gestures to the second-youngest Weasley, who still hasn't met my eyes. He looks to the two across from him, and they all seem to have a silent conversation amongst themselves. My awful mood today might have had an effect on my ability to pick up signals. Or maybe it's the rainwater still in my eyes that I still haven't blinked away.

"You're right," begins Hermione, "Harry and I should probably get going off to our, erm, dates." Hermione can't help but blush in an achingly adorable way that whoever she's seeing today must swoon over.

"Yea," I say, the hint of a smirk creeping up on my features. "Wouldn't want to leave Cho waiting, Harry."

A matching blush grows on Harry's face before he shoves me a little, scooting out from the booth behind Hermione. He turns to Ron one last time, who sits firmly in his seat still.

"We'll see you soon, alright mate?"

The redhead looks at him and nods tiredly, waving him off. Hermione shrugs on her coat.

"Try to have some fun in the meantime, Ron," pleads Hermione softly. "It's Valentine's Day, remember?"

Ron rolls his eyes dismissively. "Trust me, I remember."

Hermione looks as if she wants to say something more, but doesn't. Instead, she pats me on the shoulder affectionately before turning to leave. Harry follows her through the door.

Not knowing if I'd make this even weirder if I continue to stand, I decide to slide into the booth across from Ron. My soaked clothes squish from underneath me and I make a mess of the wooden bench I sit on. Merlin, help me.

"Sorry for the mess," I add if only to break the silence. "I'm completely soaked from the rain. I'd cast a drying spell but I left my wand back at the castle."

Ron replies, his eyes trained on my wet sleeves resting on the table rather than my face.

"I er... I left mine too."

I let out a chuckle that lacks genuineness. "Seems like a great day for both of us so far, right?"

Ron doesn't even allow for the hint of a smile to cross his face. He lets a breath out through his nose, toying with the hem of his sleeve. A beat of silence overtakes us before he finally meets my eyes for the first time in the conversation.

"Shouldn't you be off on some date like everyone else?"

I blink at the abruptness of his question. His tone was cold, almost detached. I don't even know how to respond.

"I ... I don't have a date."

He lets a breath out through his nose that almost sounds like laughter, clicking his tongue and shaking his head slightly like my loneliness was amusing. The nerve.

"Well it doesn't look like you've managed to find a date either, Weasley, if it's that amusing to you."

Whatever had gone through his mind at that moment was rich, considering the fact that it wasn't only me sitting here alone on Valentine's Day. He was here too.

Ron looks at me like I've snapped him back into reality. Maybe he didn't even realize I could see his amusement. It didn't matter though. My words were sharp, sharper than I meant.

"I-I'm sorry," I say. "I didn't mean that." Merlin, was this conversation draining. "I'm just in a cruddy mood today, that's all. This bloody holiday is... well you know how it is."

Even with my attempt to relate to him, to apologize, Ron doesn't seem able to find any desire to carry on the conversation. His eyes are trained on the wooden table still, regarding it as if he found more interest in the pattern of the wood than our conversation.

I let out a sigh before I leave my seat to sit in the chair in front of the inn's fireplace. My soaked clothes could use the heat and it doesn't seem like Ron would mind the loss of company.

I lean forward to rest my elbows on my knees, rubbing my hands together for the warmth that the fire can't provide. Today hasn't been my day; Valentine's Day never has been. And maybe it was just the gloominess of the weather outside, or the bad mood that the holiday has put me in, but Ron's permanent grudge against me has been annoying me more than ever.

The fire crackles in front of me, sparking like the frustration that begins to bubble inside of me as I imagine all the times Ron's acted this way around me. He has to know just how awful it feels to be ignored like this, to feel as if you're the reason for the end of a conversation, for words dying on people's lips whenever you came around.

My spiraling thoughts come to a stop at the sound of nearing footsteps, inching closer and closer before coming to a stop by my side. I notice Ron's red hair before anything else.

He sits down on the stool next to mine wordlessly. I want to ask what the purpose of him following me to the fireplace is, but it seems as if he doesn't know the answer to that question himself.

It feels like years go by before either of us breaks the silence. He stares into the fire, eyes flickering around as if he's deep in thought. I've never wanted to get inside a person's head so badly.

"What makes you hate Valentine's Day so much?"

His words come out so quietly that I'm not sure I'm even hearing him right. If I thought I knew what Ron might have been thinking before, now I know that I truly don't have a sliver of an idea.

"I don't ..." I trail off, deciding if I even know the answer to his question myself.

"I don't suppose I hate Valentine's Day as much as I just ... don't understand it. I mean, why should you have to use an official holiday as an excuse to be romantic? Can't people just appreciate love on any regular day? We all chase to find love on a single day of the year and you end up feeling like crap if you don't find any. It feels like I'm having everyone's relationship stuffed down my throat. Godric, I sound depressing. I swear I don't hate romance, I just-"

My rampage fades away once I realize how much I must be boring the boy beside me with the contents of my mind.

"Sorry," I say, internally cringing. "I'm sure you didn't need that much of an explanation, I-"

"Y/n, bloody hell," interrupts Ron. He manages to meet my eyes again. "Would you quit apologizing?"

I don't know what surprises me more: Ron's words, or the way he suddenly looks at me, determination lying behind shining eyes that seem to flicker with the shadow from the fireplace.

"Excuse me?" I ask, making sure I heard him right.

He runs a hand through his fiery hair. "I mean, seriously, Y/n, you've apologized to me at least three times in the past five minutes."

I let out a small scoff. "Well is it really so shocking that I feel the need to constantly be apologizing to you, Ronald?"

I can tell that my temper is especially fragile on a day like today. Ron's freckled face goes paler than it already is. "What- what do you mean?"

"With the way you act around me, you'd think I killed your mum or something."

"Killed my..." Ron mumbled to himself in disbelief, looking completely and utterly lost. "Killed my mum?"

"No, I didn't kill your- Gods, we're steering away from the point here. What I'm saying is, I don't know what I did to make you act the way you do around me. To make you suddenly dislike me so much."

Ron's brows are furrowed, his lips slightly separated as he looks at me. His tone is laced with what sounds like genuine confusion and concern.

"Dislike you?"

I let out a puff of air. "Yes, dislike me. Is it really that far of a stretch?"

Ron shakes his head slowly, some color spreading back into his face. When a few seconds pass without him saying anything, I think he isn't going to say anything at all.

"I could never dislike you."

The sound of Ron's voice proves me wrong. His face is filled with sincerity, saying the words casually enough to make them seem like they lack any deep meaning at all. In reality, they leave me fumbling for an explanation.

"It's never seemed that way, Ron." I shift my body on my stool to face him. "You avoid me like a plague. When I come around, you clearly wish I were anywhere else, or that you could be anywhere else. Worst of all, Weasley, I don't even know what I did."

I breathy laugh escapes me, exasperatedly.

"The funny thing is, I can remember a time when you didn't act like this around me. A time when we'd both laugh together like normal friends, the same way I would with Harry or Hermione. But after third year it was like we'd never even known each other. I don't know what I did after that to cause this rift to form between us, but whatever it was, I'm sorry. I'm bloody sorry."

I'm practically out of breath by the time I finish. Surely I'm drawing attention to the two of us in the inn, but that doesn't phase me as I speak to Ron. Clearly, something's bothering him, though. He doesn't even make a move to face me.

"Well," I say, my voice beginning to grow louder. "Aren't you going to say something?"

Seconds go by.

"Anything?"

Even if Ron wanted to say something to me, I'm losing the patience to sit here and beg for him to utter strings of words to me. If it's that hard to talk to me, I'll put him out of his misery.

I stand from my seat. All the time I spent warming by the fire threatens to go to waste as I go to march right back towards the pouring rain, wandless with no umbrella in sight.

I turn to look back at the red-haired boy one final time to see if he was going to make any move to give me an explanation or even just say anything to me, but when I see him sitting on the stool still, his crimson locks covering his eyes as his head still hangs, I know there's no use.

I push the door open, rain instantly whipping onto my clothes.

"Happy bloody Valentine's Day, Ron."’

I've never thought of myself as a lonely person, but today I most definitely do seem like a bit of a loner.

Ever since my conversation with Ron, if you can even call it that, I've been going around Hogsmeade by myself for the rest of the trip, trying to avoid a certain redhead at all costs. I've been pretty successful, too.

That is until I leave Honeydukes and notice three full heads of red hair standing in front of Zonko's—an overwhelming sight for someone trying to avoid a certain ginger at all costs.

Ron stands in conversation with his two older brothers, Fred and George, or George and Fred, (I still can't tell them apart), leaning against the brick wall of the shop under the safety of the roof's overhang, protected from the rain that still hadn't settled completely. His head is hung low as the two speak vivaciously in front of him, hand gestures and all.

My heart practically stills for a moment as one of the twins spots me in the distance, stopping his rant with wide eyes and nudging his younger brother on the shoulder. I stupidly freeze in place as Ron turns to look at me, giving time for my eyes to meet with his, a fountain of emotion stored behind them threatening to spill over.

His cheeks flush almost as red as the hair on his head, and the sight of his twins shoving him a little in my direction sends my legs pushing themselves into the crowd of Hogsmeade as I head in the opposite direction.

What am I doing?

I don't even have an answer to that question as I bustle through the many people in the rainy street, trying to go anywhere that wasn't next to Ron.

Do I really want to speak to him again?

Is finding answers to my questions as important as I thought it to be?

Why do I care so much about what Ron thinks of me?

As much as I tell myself I don't know the answer to a single one of these questions, deep down, something tells me I do.

"Y/n!"

I heard Ron's voice calling my name over the ocean of voices between us. He was far enough away in the crowd that, if I truly wanted to, I could make a run for it and not have to face him and whatever he had to say to me. The next question I had to consider was, did I really want to do that?

"Y/n!" He calls again, this time his voice closer. I turn around to face him, seeing him shoulder through people at both sides to reach me.

That feeling deep down inside of me, the one that gave me an inkling as to what I truly wanted, was the same one that makes my feet slowly stop moving, finally stopping my steps. I dip my head down, building up the courage to turn around. Sure enough, Ron is behind me, much closer this time.

When he reaches me, he's practically out of breath. This time, I won't let it be me that has to speak first.

Some seconds go by with the only noises heard being the droplets of rain still falling and the voices of people passing by as they head inside to avoid the rainstorm approaching.

"Y/n," he breaths finally. "Can we talk?"

"I'm here, aren't I?" My tone is sour, and I feel bad. But I have to remind myself he's only ever treated me the same way.

"Don't you want to head inside?" Ron asks sheepishly, gesturing to the shops on either side of us. I shake my head.

"Not really."

Ron frowns. "It's clearly gonna storm in a few minutes, Y/n, c'mon." He begins to walk toward one of the shops, but I don't follow.

"I'm sorry if I don't want to sit down and share a conversation with you right now, Ron."

Instead of reacting how I thought he would, Ron begins to shake his head and chuckle under his breath. I cross my arms, both in confusion and because of the chilly weather.

"What's so funny?"

He looks up with a very much Weasley grin, with something meaningful behind his smile.

"Still, with the apologizing, Y/n."

I give Ron a warning look, but fight to hold back a smile. Something about Ron used to always leave this warm, fuzzy feeling in my chest. That is, before he decided to freeze me out the way he did.

"Gods," I say, shaking my head. I remind myself that everything can't just be okay with a single flash of a smile—not when this conversation has been years in the making. I hide the traces of a smile that I once had on my face before I address the boy in front of me again.

"We..." I begin, finding my ground. "We need to finish our conversation from before. But this time, you need to actually talk to me, Ron."

The humor leaves Ron's face, and he clears his throat. "I- I know. I know I do. I've never been good at ... at talking to you, Y/n." He flushes. "I always say the wrong things."

"Well, you've had almost three years to get better at doing just that. But you've never made any effort to talk to me until now."

Ron fidgets with the sleeve of his jumper. "You're right and ... I'm sorry. I should have apologized before and-"

"An apology isn't what I've wanted. I've just missed my friend."

Ron stops his fidgeting, looking down at me through slightly wet hair, damp from the rain that patters lightly on the two of us.

"I need to tell you, Y/n," begins Ron. He glances at my face with purpose. "You and I ... we could never be friends."

My lips part, brows pinching together in complete and utter confusion at the statement that just came out of Ron's mouth.

"We could never be friends?" I repeat slowly, in disbelief. Ron, looking at me with an almost hopeful smile, nods. His words were like a painful slap in the face.

"What the hell, Ron?"

I turn around, beginning to stalk off angrily. Who in their right mind tells someone that? If he didn't want me around this whole time, he could've just said so from the beginning and saved all of us the trouble.

I don't hear Ron's footsteps following me for a few seconds before he's chasing after me.

"Y/n!" he hollers. "Wait! I- I didn't mean it like that!"

I don't turn around, confused and completely over the conversation. The corner of the road approaches, but I feel a tug on my wrist before I can turn, whirling me around despite its light hold. A fiery warmth spreads through my arm from his touch for a reason I can't explain or make out and, when I meet his eyes, Ron's looking at me in an almost pleading way.

"You've gotta give me a second," he says, breathing heavily. "You just ... you make me so nervous."

My heart's rhythm feels heavier in my chest. Ron laughs under his breath. "I told you I always say the wrong things." He cracks his knuckles after he releases his light grasp on my wrist, a habit of his I've noticed that makes me cringe inwardly at the sound. The rain begins to fall faster, heavier. Neither of us moves.

"Just," he pauses, thinking, "tell me what you want from me. Tell me what I can do."

I begin speaking without thinking. "I just want an explanation. Something to make it clear to me why you just totally iced me out without a single warning." Ron lowers his eyes, but I continue.

"I mean, I get we've grown to be different people and all that but, when I see you with Harry and Mione, you're the same Ron I've always known. When you're with me, you're colder. Distant. It's a god-awful feeling, Ron. It's like you're a different person around me."

"I feel like a different person around you," Ron fumbles. "I can't speak around you ... it's like I can't even form a single sentence to explain myself without blubbering like an idiot."

My face doesn't mask my hurt well enough. "That doesn't explain why you just stopped being there for me after third year."

Ron must see the wounded look in my eyes, the one that reveals just how much I care about what his next words will be. He swallows.

"I guess I just ... I guess I just couldn't be around you anymore."

"What?" I ask. Nothing about this makes any sense. "Why not?" I look at him pleadingly for a clear answer. "What did I do?"

"Nothing!" He says, hands out in front of him like he's scared I'd run off again. "You didn't do anything."

My head spins with the words I know haven't been said, trying to think of what they may be—I have no idea.

"I don't understand it."

Ron frowns, confused as if everything he's been saying has been perfectly clear, even if it's been anything but. "Don't understand what?"

"You, Ron. I don't understand you." I run a hand through my hair. "You're the most confusing person I've ever met. Merlin, if I could just know what's going on inside your brain, everything would make sense."

Ron takes hold of the sleeve of my sweater, holding it like it was his lifeline. His words are rich, full with desperation. "You want to know what's going on inside my head?"

My heart beats fast, and my cheeks are flushed. The only thing keeping me sane is the cool rain pouring down on us, the very rain that I despised this morning. It picks up its intensity, but I manage to block it out and focus on Ron's waiting gaze behind wet hair. It's as if I nod subconsciously.

"Every day," Ron starts, letting out a breath, "I think about you. I think about this barrier between us and why I put it in place to begin with and, even though the reason is foolish and definitely isn't good enough, it's all the truth that I can say."

Ron takes a breath, preparing himself. "When I told you we could never be friends, I was telling the truth. I iced you out because I couldn't be around you without driving myself crazy. I couldn't pretend that I wasn't falling for you. That ... that you weren't the most stunning girl I'd ever seen."

We're standing close enough that I'm sure Ron can hear my heart beating out of my chest, even over the sound of the rain beating against the ground, and against us. Neither of us seem to care.

"Sometimes I- I can't even look into your eyes, Y/n, just look at your face for too long because I know that I won't be able to resist the urge to just ..."

Ron doesn't finish his sentence, trailing off, but he doesn't need to. Even if he tries not to, his eyes keep flickering down to where my lips are, drenched from the rain like the rest of my body. Heavy breaths escape them.

Even with my soaked hair hanging in my eyes, I can't help but feel like I've never seen Ron this clearly before. And, as I stare into his eyes, I can't help but think my thoughts aren't that different than his. The rain hitting my skin feels like boiling water, overheating me and making me dizzy. I swallow.

"Y/n?" Ron asks, breaking the silence I hadn't even noticed form.

"Sorry," I say, so soft I'm not even sure he can hear. "It's just..."

I look up right at him. This is the longest he's ever looked at me. And it's certainly never been in this way before, with the meaningful look he has behind his eyes.

"Why did u ever feel like you had to resist? Why didn't u ever just tell me?"

Ron laughs breathily, and the sound is like honey. "Isn't it obvious?" He asks, meaning all things. "You'd never feel the same."

Now it's my turn to laugh.

"Ron, you bloody idiot."

I tug on his jumper, standing on my toes to be level with the tall boy. Time freezes for a single moment that feels like dozens, as the sounds of rain and distant chatter fade out, and the only sound that reaches my ears is our breathing, in time with each other, and the heavy beating of my own heart.

With the courage that only Godric could have given me, I close the distance between me and Ron with an extra tug on the neck of his jumper. Our lips connect in a way that makes my head spin in every direction and my stomach flutter with butterflies that feel too real to be true.

Already addicted to the feeling of his lips on mine, a feeling so soft and sweet it almost aches, I run my other hand through Ron's bright hair, tugging slightly at the root. I can feel him grin that utterly Weasley grin against my lips as he kisses me, cupping his hand behind my neck affectionately. With the way he holds me so close, it's like he can't stand for a single inch of space to be left between us any longer. I absolutely love the feeling.

Is this why everyone loves Valentine's Day so much? If it is, I can say with confidence that now, without a doubt, I understand it completely.

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