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#i wrote this sometime two years ago?
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girls when they remember that wilfred owen was killed in action A WEEK before the armistice was signed
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barmadumet · 28 days
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Today I wrote about two thousand words. I also deleted about two thousand words (elsewhere in the fic). So, I remain at 120k on the “ferus fic” that I am determined to start posing within the next few months. We shall see.
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suffarustuffaru · 10 months
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i just. remembered again that i have a fembaru fic but also the premise is. Very Messed Up hah and also it was written before the canon genderbent au with its official genderbend names for everyone so its also outdated on top of that T^T i had like. Genderqueer subtext going on too. but i also wrote this fic like almost two years ago and havent touched it in forever so im unsure if i should go back to it…. o.o but i would love to finish it one day if only for my own satisfaction hah… i had a very detailed outline for ch 2 (its a twoshot) and several scenes written already anyway!! (and also i would probably update those names, make minor edits, etc etc hmm…)
#just thinking about this wip again………… mmmm….. not super confident in my older ao3 fics but the premise for this one was like. i think i#ended up brainstorming it with a friend or two and then i was like wait holy shit howd this play out. and then i took about two weeks to#write ch1? :o#and then i like. REALLY got into revolutionary girl utena after finishing ch1 so like that def bled into um. the themes.#just. thimking…….. bc ive had so many ideas to explore like. themes regarding gender and misogyny and Choice and destiny and queerness and#all sorts of things….. bc rezero Touches on them and is even Detailed on them sometimes and id Love to go in depth. but im also a bit#nervous to bc 1. writing fic is….. so much work sometimes fr and i am but a lazy writer and 2. the slight anxiety of what if i get flamed#o.o wild to think about…..#like. i have ideas for emilia fics that are. definitely darker maybe a bit controversial but i will go off the walls with writing for the#sake of answering the questions of. can this be done. and is it possible to narratively critique canon and fandom treatment of emilia. that#sort of thing.#not that im the best writer ever akdbdnd but i do like darker fiction sometimes. and i also like being meta about things in fiction. and i#also like writing to get out a tiny bit of salt. etc etc.#i tried to write these kinds of thinngs with my atm sole emilia centric fic that i wrote. uhhh more than a year ago? and i would love to try#again one day bc ive def improved and changed as a writer since then. u know what i mean?? :o#just like. rezero and queerness is very interesting to me.#suffaru post#saving this on the blog bc i talked Too Much about my writing process here HAH#my writing process being: HOW FAR CAN I TAKE THIS IDEA AND HOW OFF THE WALLS CAN IT GET????#in reality tho im really just a massive nerd whos gone down a massive rabbit hole of writing anime fanfic. 😭😭😭😭😭🙏🙏#if you actually read all these tags big thank you HAH
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thrilling-oneway · 8 months
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I wish chikarikoyou was more popular like its ao3 tag is so dry (i mean the whole LL tag is dry rn but). You don’t get it. You’ve got chikayou with childhood friends and pining, chikariko with chika allowing riko to rediscover her dreams and passion, and youriko which starts off with jealousy but slowly turns into admiration. Together all three of them want each other to do their best and achieve their dreams. Do you get it now? It’s everything. It’s perfect. They are in love <3 trust
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Look at them 🧡💙💗
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sysig · 1 year
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Yandere Therapy (Patreon)
#Doodles#Original#Yanderapy if you will#Lol#Yanderapy#Sup I made my own brainrot#They both turned out perfect on their first doodles (featured here) and got names super quick so like#Why fight it lol#So! Who I ended up with: The blonde megane is Ishida Ichiro and the roots-showing pierced is Maeda Mitsuru#Yes I'm going through my weeb arc again what of it lol#Hhhh it makes me feel like a kid again <3#Honestly I was surprised how quickly their names came to me - Mitsuru's was basically immediate I gave him two total passes and then yup#And like I mentioned - their designs? On the fly and gosh I am so happy with them haha especially Ishida#His face reveal was my first attempt and like!! How does that happen sometimes!! Look at him!#You can kinda see me settle into Mitsu's design a bit more slowly - his eyelashes solidified four or five doodles in and now I love them#I actually wrote down this concept - gosh looks like a year and a half ago?? At least the initial concept#I accidentally combined two yandere ideas I wrote down separately - by it looks like almost a year exactly lol it's the Yandere time of year#But I ended up with these two so I'm happy even if they didn't stay separate! :D#It does still make me want to take another crack at the individual ideas tho lol#Anyway ♪ Mostly just setup introduction character feeling-out for the initials :3#Mitsu recognized himself as having a somewhat unhealthy interest in his crush so decided to just go ahead and put himself in therapy haha#After getting to a point where he and his therapist thought he was in a good headspace for possible rejection he went to shoot his shot and-#Turns out his crush likes him back! And their boundaries align Surprisingly well ♪#Probably not a surprise but Ishida could tell that Mitsuru liked him lol he was just waiting for him to ask first - Mitsu had no idea tho#Oh yeah and I also use the first name-last name/last name-first name structure interchangeably soz lol#I'm trying to go more for last name-first name more! But don't be surprised if you see its inverse sometimes
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(Pistachio) Puddin'
(harry/james; -adjacent au)
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“Okay, okay,” Harry tutted, lifting the fussing baby girl from the changing table. “I know. I’m sorry. I have to invade your privacy until you’re fully potty trained. That’s gonna take a while.” He propped her on his chest and shoulder, patting her back as he left the nursery. “You’re a good girl. Don’t get any ideas about starting a rebellious phase just yet, okay? Heather’s still on hers, and she’s getting up there. Okay, early twenties, but your sister is definitely having a rebellious phase that started when she was about eight..”
“What’re you telling her about now?” James tilted his head back to try to look at them over the couch, ending up righting it as he followed them to the point where Harry curled up on the couch beside him. 
“Warning her against a rebellious phase too soon.” He tilted his head to the side as he peeled the baby away from his shoulder, holding her in his lap. The gravedigger leaned over to look. “Look at her, James. She’s got a gleam in her eye that I’m very sure that we’re going to need to keep under careful surveillance.”
Setting the tablet down, James then reached to scoop up the baby from Harry’s lap. The author acquiesced, smiling softly. Nothing was verbally said; Harry heard his silence just fine. He stroked the back of his lover’s blond head, kissed his shoulder, then got back up. “Heather's coming over tonight. Not for dinner. She just wants to visit.”
James laid Rose on his thighs where they could openly and easily stare at each other. “Okay. What time?”
“Uhhh, I think around eight. She said she had a few things to do first.” Harry looked over. “I don’t think she'll be here too long, though; just wanted to swing by.”
“Okay.”
“I’m gonna take a bath,” Harry announced, beginning to walk off just as James rose to his feet. “I fed and changed the baby, so, no need to worry abo—“ Frowning, he stopped in his tracks and spread out his hands questioningly at James’s mild frown. “What?”
“I was gonna change her.”
He blew a raspberry. “Next time, then. It won’t be long.” James shouldered their child, rubbing her back as he slowly pivoted, holding a playful glare out of the corner of his eye. 
“Fine.”
“I can’t believe we were gonna argue about changing the baby,” Harry chuckled, heading down the hall. His husband watched him go, then looked at the sweet little infant on his shoulder.
James gave her a gentle hug that secured her to him until he got comfortable stretched out on the sofa. He kissed her dark, downy hair and held his lips on her head as he flipped through Netflix, settling on that Stranger Things show. Harry had mentioned it a few times before and James thought it was maybe about time he gave it a shot. The remote was in reaching distance, he was relaxed, and his baby girl safe on his chest.
Tenderly moving her lower so he could see her, the former conduit studied the phenomenon that grew a little more each day. He loved her. Already, Harry was accusing him of replacing him with Rose and having to fight with him to change her, or get up in the night to tend to her. Those were jokes and they both knew it, yet James was getting good at beating him to the punch when she cried through the speakers. She was just amazing. There was nothing like fatherhood.
James was starting to really get where Harry was coming from about the pride and joy of being a dad. 
Life was turning out incredible. A gold ring encircled a finger he didn’t think would feel one again; someone loved him ravenously, passionately, unconditionally; he had a stable job he liked, friends he regularly talked to and even saw on his own time; enjoyed waking up in the morning, to go to work, to come home, text his family - a family. James had a family. 
The Masons adopted him into theirs, and with Harry, recreated it a little when their legal surnames became hyphenated. Now James and Harry were Mason-Sunderlands. Then Harry started talking about how he loved children and wished he could’ve had a baby, but he’s getting too old. It’s not fair. It wouldn’t be fair to the child. 
And no, it wasn’t fair to Rose. They weren’t sure how James would age, or what complications could be ahead. James was a mystery, and Harry was reality. He was almost fifty. He’d be in his seventies by the time their little girl was twenty. They’d talked a lot about this after they decided to try to get pregnant and it was a subject that they never liked to bring up.
It’s just that they’d been feeling the weight of it lately, and like last night, held each other tight, hoping the other knew how deep ‘I love you’ went.
He wanted to take their daughter into the bathroom and climb in, clothes and all, with Harry. But he’d be out soon (unless he’d fallen asleep, which had happened before, so he ought to check in in half an hour), and he knew they’d pull out the ‘bed’ under the couch and have a lovely cuddle, the three of them.
Noise from the TV got his attention. James actually started watching, absently rubbing and kissing his daughter as the episode progressed. The show was pretty interesting. So interesting, that he forgot to check in on his husband, and an hour an half later, got a good startle when Harry suddenly appeared in his line of sight heading into the kitchen.
“Ooh, giving Stranger Things a go, huh? Nice. I think you’ll like it,” he continued, raising his voice a bit to be heard as he moved about behind the sofa. “I’d be a little careful though, honey. Some things could be triggering.”
“I’ll keep it in check,” James called back, tilting his head up better hearing. “How was the bath?”
“Nice. Almost fell asleep, though. Those bath salts are amazing.”
“Heather got you those, right?”
“Yeah. They’re better than Epsom salt. I gotta ask her where she found ‘em.”
“Cool.”
“I’m gonna make some coffee, babe. Want anything?”
“Uuuuuhhhhh..”
Harry smiled to himself as James gave his offer a good thought. Glancing over, he saw his yellow wheat field hair drawn back by gravity and incredible genetics, a peek of his forehead, eye, and nose ridge. He had to stop and admire. Truly, his heart soared when he saw him; he wouldn’t ever lie about something like that. Every day, Harry fell madly in love with James over and over and over and for the love of god, he hoped his husband knew, at the very least, a fraction of what it was like for Harry to love him.
It hurt worse than hell, and he was glad for it. He didn’t want anyone else. Jodi had been a love in his life, and they’d loved each other intensely. With her, they adopted Cheryl, and losing Jodi was a pain he still felt. She was always a fun conversation in therapy.
But James.. it was a shame he had to find his other half waiting for him in Silent Hill. Harry was grateful to have found him at all. The search for the piece of his severed soul had come to an end, and currently lay on the couch, cradling their baby girl on his chest.
The movement on the TV caught his eye and he paid some attention to the plot while James mulled over whether or not he wanted anything.
“Do we have any pistachio pudding?”
“Uhhh..” He heard the fridge door clatter. “Yeah. You want that?” 
“Yeah. Please.”
James blinked at him in surprise when he brought over a cold medium-sized bowl full of fresh, untouched pastel green pudding. He was handed a spoon, and was about to complain that he had nowhere to put it - but Harry was already on the case. Bending down, he grabbed the fabric loops drooping under the cushion, pulling out the large extension from underneath that made the couch and chaise combination one large, bed-like space. 
The gravedigger smiled and again with his husband’s help, got himself arranged in a way that allowed him to hold their baby and enjoy his dessert with ease. “Thanks, sweetheart.” He closed his eyes to receive the kiss on his forehead and comb of fingers through his hair. 
“You’re welcome. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
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disdaidal · 2 years
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I have 14 fics on ao3 and most of them are oneshots. But I’m really happy about these numbers. ♥♥♥
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wander-wren · 1 year
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do i need to start biting people who just comment to point out continuity errors in d2d bc i will. bc it’s several people now. i’m sorry that not every little detail in my 150k+ 2-years-in-the-making warrior cats fanfic isn’t 100% perfect, okay
like i wouldn’t be mad (i might be slightly miffed) if these commenters maybe said anything else once in a while
also, this is warrior cats, the series with so many errors every single book and most major characters have their OWN mistakes page on the wiki. i think i’m doing okay
i didn’t want to make this post bc god, i don’t want to yell at people or anything, but it’s just a little bit harder to find motivation to write when you know someone’s going to come out and nitpick
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noxtivagus · 2 years
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noctyx . the dancing in the mv SOB
#🌙.rambles#[ nijisanji. ]#i do not know how to dance nor do i really have knowledge or experience on it#BUT I LOVE IT !?! IT'S SO BEAUTIFUL#i saw a thread on twt n i'm going insane#invitation w alban then#w yugo n sonny those parts#THE CRESCENDO THE HOLD W UKI OH MY GOD I AM EMOTIONAL#🥹 THE INTIMACY . I AM SO WEAK FOR THIS WAIT#fulgur's final bow sobbbbb#I'VE ALWAYS LOVED DANCES LIKE THAT#god sometimes i forget how much ffxv influenced me . with noctis n the latin words n the moon sky night stuff n#he's. a prince. yeah. cringe but yeah#waltz hsjfksjgjsjgks i imagined stuff like#no i will not expound but#i also wrote that.... story..... 'starlit sky'#my writing has improved sm from two years ago i am Proud#but the sentiment is still so similar. i've just gotten better at expressing myself#god i'm so weak for elegant n beautiful n gentle things#which is why i've always loved stories w royalty / magic / angel kinda vibes#n goddamn i like tragedy in my stories . i like happy stuff too but#FINAL FANTASY IS MY FAVORITE SERIES???? n nier's already my 2nd fav despite my limited knowledge of it#but if it says anything abt my preferences. squinoa is my favorite pair. suteki da ne is my fav song#actually w the songs it's so hard bcs eyes on me is so sweet. suteki da ne is so bittersweet. melodies of life is special to me personally#nah wait i'm getting distracted 💀 i swear final fantasy's always like at the back of my head . rotting my brain#i wna be productive but i also just wna do Nothing rn.#i shld be productive but i may not be able to concentrate if i don't properly address thos aching pain somewhere bcs i am#sobbing i shldn't worry abt it so much ? but. i wna do more i wna be better.... argh this is bs#i can't bring myself to do it bcs anxiety. but if i dont do it then i'd feel so bad bcs i really want to do it but#🥹 i hate it sm bcs wnvr i have more i want to say. it gets harder to initiate or reach out. so im just carrying these burdens inside me
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starbounddragon · 5 months
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Congratulations, I hope it's all you dreamt of and more. Really, congratulations you two seem perfect for each other. Congratulations to you and your brand new husband. I'm sure you'll find many years of happiness together, just like you always planned when I knew you- when I thought I knew you. Congratulations I guess. Because I can't say you're making a mistake. I can't cry and curse and beg you to change your mind because even now I would sooner die than take the smile from your face. I would burn alive before I let myself be the reason your eyes fill with pity and embarrassment that the girl you let go won't just move the fuck on and let you have the happiest days of your life. So congratulations, do you even remember me? Congratulations, why am I still here. Congratulations, from the girl you used to know. Who, I guess, never really knew you. Congratulations, on your happy life, on your husband, on the kids I know you always wanted. On the white picket fence life ahead of you, congratulations. I'm gonna go keep trying to kill every part of myself that ever touched you.
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godhasforsnakenme · 11 months
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let it be known that I completed my journal today, like I wrote on the last available page for it
holy shit
#dania rambles about shit#its a green leather one that I bought for summer vacation 2013#it lasted me ten fucking years#what the fuck a whole decade#we forgot to take it with us when we went on vacation in august before 8th grade started#like I wrote in it each time something important enough happened that I'd remembered its existence#we'd had to find it through all the piles of papers and notebooks and sketchbooks on our desk#or when we got the book shelves and couldn't keep it in the same spot for us to find omfg#like this journal was there when I met the most important people of my life#wrote in it when I graduated and went to college#wrote in it sometimes when I had to just write out my thoughts that were keeping me up at night#the process of my handwriting getting to what it is today like similarities can be seen to the chicken scrall I had ten years ago#yet its so damn different to the chicken scrall we have today lmao#the first entry was a sketch of the beach in cali#it was done when I got back from vacationing and realised I forgot it which defeated the purpose of why I got it in the first place#as in to write all the things I did on those days spent away from home#so it became tradition to just forget the journal and a joke to try and finish it at all#the last entry I made today because I finally stopped procrastinating and make the important phone calls#we reached an epiphany of sorts and could finally fill out those last two pages that had been sitting blank since last year#literally closing a chapter of my life#a whole book on it really#idk about getting a new one#like what if it takes another ten years to finish?#also the sketchbooks have served for the same purpose recently when writing letters I can't bring myself to send#plus sketches to go along with whatever brain rot we have going on#hmmmm decisions decisions
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mariclerc · 1 month
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Dad duties | cl16
Summary: where you meet an adorable dad and his little girl at the beach. Warning: none, just dad!charles, a little emotional, instant crush and FLUFF, pure fluff.
a/n: Hii, a long time ago I was thinking about doing a story about what Charles would be like as a single dad... Something crazy, I know, but I hope you like it!! Let me know if you want a part two of this <3
Part 2 Part 3
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Sun gleams off the turquoise water, gentle waves lap at the shore. You walk along the beach, toes sinking into the warm sand. Giggles suddenly catches your attention, you turn to see a little girl, barely a year old, with bright eyes and a head full of messy curls, crawling determinedly towards you. She reaches you, grabbing a handful of your sundress. You smile, kneeling down to her level.
“Hey there, little one. You seem a little bit lost.”
The girl babbles happily, reaching for your sunglasses. You chuckle and gently remove them, placing them on top of your head.
A shadow falls over you. You look up to see a tall, handsome man with kind greenish eyes and sun-streaked hair... He looks slightly flustered.
“Oh god, I'm so sorry, that's my little escape artist Ava, come here to Papa munchkin.” He smiles apologetically.
Ava squeals and reaches for him. He scoops her up effortlessly, her tiny giggles filling the air.
“Don't worry, she's adorable! How old is she?” you asked.
“One year old, going on a hundred!” He winces as Ava grabs a fistful of his hair. You can't help but laugh. “Ouch, sweetie that hurts!” He says and Ava giggles.
“Looks like she has you all wrapped around her little finger.”
“Definitely.” he chuckles.
He introduces himself as Charles, you tell him your name. To your surprise, the conversation flows easily, you learn he's a single dad, the love and devotion evident in his gaze as he talks about Ava. He opens up about his complicated relationship with his ex (Ava's mother), the challenges of dating as a single parent. You listen intently, impressed by his honesty and dedication to his daughter.
“You seem to be doing a great job, Charles. And that's impressive, you know, how hard you work and try to be the best every day for her.” you smile.
Ava snuggles closer to him, burying her face in his neck.
“I manage to do a good job... It's definitely a handful, but she's worth it all.” he smiles.
A comfortable silence settles between you. You steal a glance at him, then quickly look away, cheeks warming. You sense a similar flicker of something unspoken in his eyes.
“Well, maybe I should let you get back to building sandcastles with your princess.” You say with a bit of haste.
“Actually, I was wondering... Would you maybe, I don't know, maybe... Want to grab some ice cream with us sometime? Ava loves company, and frankly, so do I.” He speaks hurriedly.
You feel a flutter in your chest. This unexpected encounter has taken a sweet turn. “I'd love to. Thanks!” you smile.
Ava lets out a delighted squeal, as if sensing the possibility of ice cream, You and Charles giggle at her reaction.
“Great! How about next Saturday? Same place? How does that sound?”
You nod. “Sounds perfect.”
He smiles, you can see how the corners of his eyes wrinkle, something very cute for you. “Perfect... Ehm, here! Write down your number and I'll write down mine.” He says as he takes out his cell phone to give it to you and you take yours out of your beach bag to hand it to him.
You wrote your number on his cell phone with the name of: "y/n the life-saver 🎀". When he finishes he gives you your cell phone back and you see that he has registered himself as: "Charles the handsome dad 😋" you can't help but laugh at the name.
“Well, then I'll write to you to keep in touch... Handsome dad.” You say with a giggle and he blushes.
Ava yawns, nuzzling deeper into his embrace.
“I think someone's getting tired.” you giggle while looking at Ava.
“She probably is. Sand and sunshine can be exhausting for little ones.” He says and then smiles a little. “This was unexpected... But so nice.” he says quietly.
“Yeah, definitely nice!” you say meeting his warm gaze.
A blush creeps up Charles' neck as he finally pulls back slightly.
“See you next Saturday then, Y/N, it was nice to meet you!”
You smile. “It was also nice to meet you both!”
He nods, a goodbye lingering in his eyes. Charles walks away, cradling a sleepy Ava in his arms, you watch them go, a warm feeling spreading through you. This chance encounter has blossomed into something promising, and as you turn towards your car, a smile lingers on your lips. The beach seems a little brighter now, filled with the promise of sunshine, ice cream, and maybe, just maybe, something more.
Suddenly, your phone buzzes in your pocket. It's a text message. You pull it out, expecting a message from a friend, but your heart skips a beat when you see the name displayed on the screen - Charles the handsome dad 😋.
Charles the handsome dad 😋: Ava just fell asleep. She kept asking for "y/n." Any chance you have a favorite ice cream flavor? Trying to win some brownie points for Saturday afternoon.
A laugh escapes your lips. He's charming, that's for sure. You quickly type a response.
y/n the life-saver 🎀: Chocolate chip cookie dough, always! And tell Ava I said goodnight. See you on Saturday cha!
You hit send and a warm feeling washes over you. This unexpected encounter has taken a delightful turn, and with a giddy anticipation for saturday's ice cream date, you turn back towards the ocean. The waves seem to whisper a promise of something exciting to come, and you can't wait to see where this newfound connection might lead.
***
The cheerful clinking of spoons against ice cream sundaes fills the air. You sit across from Charles at a brightly colored table, a giant chocolate chip cookie dough sundae melting in front of you. Ava, nestled comfortably in a high chair, digs into a kid-sized strawberry sundae with a look of pure bliss.
He chuckles “Looks like someone's enjoying their treat.”
Ava lets out a happy gurgle, a smear of red adorning her cheek. You laugh, you leaned towards her to wipe her cheek.
“She's definitely got a sweet tooth.” you say while wiping her cheek.
Charles takes a bite of his own sundae, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Just like her dad. Thanks for the recommendation, this cookie dough ice cream it's fantastic!” he smiles.
“My pleasure, I'm glad you both like it.”
Ava reaches out, grabbing a stray piece of cookie dough from your sundae. You laugh, helping her bring it to her mouth.
“Careful, little one, that's a big bite!”
Charles watches the interaction between you and Ava, a smile playing on his lips.
“You seem to have a way with kids.” He says softly while looking at the two of you with adoration.
You shrug. “I guess so, I have a younger brother, so I've had my fair share of practice.”
The conversation flows easily between bites of ice cream, you learn more about Charles' life as a single dad, the challenges and rewards that come with it, he talks about his passion for racing, a twinkle in his eyes as he describes his dream of one day competing professionally. You share your own dreams and aspirations, surprised at how comfortable you feel opening up to him.
As Ava starts to get cranky, signaling the need for a nap, you suggest taking a walk along the nearby park. Charles readily agrees.
A comfortable silence settles between you. You both steal glances at each other, the unspoken attraction hanging heavy in the air. You reach the edge of the park, the familiar beach stretching before you.
“Looks like we're back where it all began.” you blush slightly.
“It does, doesn't it? Funny how things work out.” he smiles.
He stops walking, turning to face you. Ava lets out a whimper in her sleep, prompting Charles to gently bounce her in his arms.
“This was... so nice, I mean, this sweet afternoon and last week at the beach, it's very... Unexpected, but very good.” He says quietly with a smile on his face.
You meet his gaze, your heart fluttering in your chest.
You smiled. “I also liked it! Ava's such a sweetheart, and you seem like... a good guy, a really good and nice guy.”
He smiles back, a genuine warmth radiating from his eyes.
“I, uh... I was wondering if maybe, sometime next week, you'd like to have dinner? Just the two of us, after Ava's asleep?” He says with a bit of hesitation.
Your stomach does a nervous flip-flop, but a wide smile stretches across your face.
“I'd like that very much Charles.”
A wave of relief washes over Charles. He leans forward slightly, his eyes searching yours.
“Great... In that case, how about I give you a proper goodbye this time?” He says with a bit of flirtation in his voice.
Before you can respond, he leans in further, his lips brushing softly against yours. The kiss is brief, sweet, and filled with unspoken promise.
Ava lets out a startled gurgle, breaking the spell. Charles pulls back with a laugh, a blush creeping up his neck.
“Looks like our little chaperone wants to get home.” he chuckles and blushes.
“Seems that way.” you giggled while blushing.
He walks you back to your car, Ava snuggled contentedly against his chest.
“Text me when you get home, so I know you made it safe. And maybe, just maybe, you can tell me what your favorite dinner is.” He says while blushing a little.
You laugh a little bit. “Don't worry, you'll be very well fed.”
He smiles, a hint of something deeper lingering in his gaze. You wave goodbye as he drives away with Ava, a warmth spreading through your chest. The unexpected encounter at the beach has blossomed into something exciting, and as you watch the sun disappear over the horizon, you can't wait to see where this new path might lead.
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feluka · 1 day
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"How many of you like have you ever been to Jerusalem? Raise your hand if you have ever been to Jerusalem. We have 60 students here, and we have one... two, probably three... That's that's very few of you! I've never been to Jerusalem. We're Palestinians; we live in Gaza; we can't go to Jerusalem because of the Israeli occupation.
But we love Jerusalem, right? [A chorus of students saying "yes".] We love Jerusalem because of what it means to us. We've never been there, but believe me, when you go there you will feel that you've been there hundreds of times. Because you read about Jerusalem in literature, in stories. Of course it doesn't mean that that's it, that we should take the Jerusalem that's in the stories and that's it, no.
But in literature, Jerusalem comes back to us. It's true that there is suffering; there is pain; there is occupation, and that's why Tamim Al-Barghouti, as a young Palestinian poet, I think is doing a great service to the Palestinian cause and the Palestinian struggle.
When you listen to him reciting his poem from Al-Quds, or other poems, he takes you to Jerusalem. You live in Jerusalem. He takes you back to it. You liberate it for just a little bit of time.
And if there is hope; if you can imagine a free Palestine, a free Jerusalem, probably you will work towards that, and the same thing applies to occupied Palestine. We've never been to other parts of Palestine because of the Israeli occupation, but we've been told so many times by our parents and our grandparents, especially our mothers, they've been telling us stories about Palestine in the past, the good old days, when Palestine was all beautiful, unoccupied, unraped.
Therefore, I say in in this case how our homeland turns into a story. In reality, we can't have it; we don't have it, but it can turn into poems, into literature, into stories, so our homeland turns into a story. We love our homeland because of the story. We love our homeland because of the story, and we love the story because it's about our homeland, and this connection is significant.
Israel wants to sever this relationship, for example between Palestinians and the land; Palestinians and Jerusalem, and other places and cities, and literature attaches us back - connects us strongly to Palestine, so in my thinking, this is a very significant thing that literature contributes to. Creating realities; making the impossible sound possible.
In real life, again because we are here in Palestine and Gaza, I'll be giving you examples from Palestinian and Arab literature so we can compare and make things clearer. We all know Fadwa Tuqan, the Palestinian poet - and please do not introduce her as Ibrahim Tuqan's sister, let's talk about her as Fadwa Tuqan and then somewhere else mention that, "by the way, Ibrahim Tuqan was her brother". Let's not throw her under the shadow of a man, even if it's her brother, who was a great poet, we can't deny that.
So this is Fadwa Tuqan, a Palestinian poet, 40 years ago or 50 years ago, writing poetry... Of course, we always fall into this trap of saying "she was arrested for just writing poetry!" We do this, even us believers in literature, "Why would Israel arrest somebody or put somebody under house arrest if she only wrote a poem?!"
So we contradict ourselves sometimes. We believe in the power of literature, changing life as a means of resistance, a means of fighting back and in the end we say, "She just wrote a poem!" We shouldn't be saying that.
Moshe Daya, an Israeli general, said that the poems of Fadwa Tuqan were like facing 20 enemy fighters. Wow.
She didn't throw stones; she didn't shoot at the invading Israeli military jeeps. She just wrote poetry. And I'm falling for that again, I'm saying "she just wrote poetry".
So this is what how Israel's dealing with Palestinian poets, and the same thing happened to Palestinian poet Dareen Tatour. She wrote poetry celebrating Palestinian struggle; encouraging Palestinians to resist, not to give up, to fight back. She was put under house arrest. She was sent to prison for years.
And therefore I end here with a very significant point. Don't forget that Palestine was first and foremost occupied in Zionist literature and Zionist poetry.
Palestine was presented as these things, I'll be mentioning some of them, but there's a contradiction here, there's a paradox always. "Palestine is a land without a people to our people without a land", "Palestine flows with milk and honey", "there's no one there, so let's go". We'll see how later on, how many even Jewish people were disappointed when they came to Palestine. Number one, there was no milk and honey, because "flowing with milk and honey" sounds like you're just going to be groping around, and milk and honey will be thrown at you - and there were people! There have always been people in Palestine.
The fact that Israel worked hard to ethnically cleanse Palestine, to kick Palestinians out, first and foremost in literature - yes, in politics and everything - shows how significant poetry is.
To sum up, Palestine was occupied metaphorically in the poem long before it was physically and militarily occupied in your life, so let's do the same. Let's fight back; let's restore Palestine in in our writings; in our poetry; in our stories."
-Professor Refaat Alareer explaining to his students the power of poetry as a means of resistance, and why the occupation targets poets, during one of his lectures at IUG.
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txttletale · 5 months
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i sometimes get asked 'why bother reading marx if he wrote 150 years ago? surely what he said is no longer relevant and his analysis has been surpassed' and there are two answer to this. the first is that he was wrong about some stuff and right about much more stuff, he made some wrong predictions and some right ones and the right ones are pretty important. but more pressingly i think that every political or economic writer for those last 150 years has been responding to marx, whether by building off his ideas or attempting to oppose them or even carefully circumnavigating their own theories around his. & if you haven't read marx then any notable economist or political theorist you read from the last century and a half will make less sense to you
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foxy-eva · 3 months
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Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder
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Summary: Spencer was the right person at the wrong time, no doubt about it. When you’re finally back in town, you’re ready for a fresh start. 
Request: Exes with Feelings, Having an Argument, Finding Comfort in Each Other's Arms
Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader
Category: Fluff, Comfort 
Content Warnings: mentions past break-up and fighting, a little misunderstanding, heavy kissing
Word count: 2.1k
Author’s Note: I wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins New Beginnings Writing Challenge
Masterlist
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Endless hours of late-night phone calls. More time spent on planes than inside each other’s arms. Weekends that were never quite long enough.  
“Distance makes the heart grow fonder,” Spencer said. 
He was nothing but supportive of your decision to take an internship on the other side of the country. There was no doubt that the two of you could make this work, you were soulmates after all. 
“So fond it sometimes starts hurting,” you added. 
Neither of you expected that what should have been a temporary arrangement could turn into something more permanent. But when you got offered a full-time position for your dream job, you had to make the most difficult decision of your life. 
“You could come with me, you know,” you told him after letting him in on your decision to take the job offer. He only shook his head. 
“Why is your job more important than mine?” You hissed, angry that he wasn’t even considering that option. When he didn’t answer, you added, “Why is your job more important than me?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
Neither of you wanted to end this relationship but after that argument you knew it was inevitable. Spencer’s stubbornness stood in the way of him begging you to stay, even though you wished for nothing more than one of those cheesy airport scenes from the romcom movies you liked to watch together. 
He never showed up, though. 
It was hard to believe that all of that happened almost a year ago. The heartache never fully went away and it got worse now that you were back, walking the streets of a city you once called home. Your job made you happy for a while but after months of trying and failing to make new friends, you had to admit to yourself that you missed your old life. 
And more than anything, you missed Spencer. 
The city still felt familiar as you stepped closer to the apartment building you spent so many days and nights in. It was almost like no time had passed when you walked up the stairs to Spencer’s apartment. The hallway still carried the same scent of old wood and the steps still creaked underneath your feet. Before you had reached his door another memory flooded your mind. 
Turning your head, you looked down the hallway and remembered how Spencer spun you around right there in a little impromptu dance when you came home from one of Rossi’s infamous dinner parties. You were happy then - some might even call you naive - and so convinced that you’d spend the rest of your life with the man of your dreams. 
The more you got lost in reminiscing about times long gone, the more you could almost feel the warmth Spencer always radiated. Your skin started tingling where he used to press his palms against you, holding your close as if nothing could ever come between the two of you. 
You sighed as you let those memories go. There were so many uncertainties as you stepped closer to his door. You weren’t sure if he still lived here and you didn’t know if he had found someone else to keep close since you left. The rational part of your brain knew that you should have called him before showing up, that he might not even want to see you. 
But those past months you recognized that you were nothing but a fool when it came to love and romance. He didn’t show up at the airport for you but a part of you still believed he would take you back just like the people in those romcoms always did. 
Relief washed over you when you found his name still written on the door of apartment 23. 
Three knocks. No answer. 
You lingered for a few moments to listen for any movement behind his door but there was none. Spencer wasn’t home and your life really wasn’t some corny movie. 
As you walked away from his door you contemplated your options. Maybe you should send him a text or even write him a letter to let him know you’re back in town. 
Or maybe you should just let it go. 
Just when you reached the last step, a tall curly-haired man entered the building. You recognized him instantly, many moments before he even realized that you were there. He greeted the doorman before turning his head towards the staircase and spotting you. 
Spencer’s face was impossible to read and looked nothing like you imagined whenever you dreamed about running into him again. Where you hoped to find a bright smile, only a thin line was visible. He looked as if he wasn’t sure you were real, as if he couldn’t trust his own eyes. 
“Hi Spencer,” you broke the silence. 
“H..Hi,” he stammered as he stepped closer. “What are you doing here?” 
I’m trying to win you back. I came to tell you how much I miss you. I want to start over. I’m still in love with you. 
There were many things you could have answered but none of the obvious explanations made it past your lips. Instead you said, “I have a job interview.” 
Spencer was confused and raised his eyebrows. “In my building?”
“No, not here of course,” you awkwardly laughed. “I have a job interview here in DC tomorrow. And I thought I’d come by to say hi.” 
Spencer just stood there like a doe caught in the headlights. It still seemed like he had a hard time processing what was happening. 
Right when he wanted to open his mouth, a raven-haired woman entered the building behind him. She was almost as tall as him and absolutely gorgeous. 
“Hey, are you ready to leave?” She asked when Spencer turned around to look at her. 
“I’ll be there in a second,” he answered before finding your eyes again. “I’m sorry but now is not a good time. Can I call you later?” 
Of course he had found someone else. 
You were too late. 
“Don't worry about it!” You said and quickly walked away from the most awkward situation you had ever been in. 
When you were almost around the corner, you heard Spencer call out your name, followed by, “Please wait!” 
Turning around, you found him running towards you. He slowed down the closer he got, coming to a halt about an arm-length away from you. He looked back and you followed his sight, spotting the woman getting into a car. She didn't drive away, instead it seemed like she was waiting for him. 
It was as if you were struck by lightning when you suddenly felt Spencer's arms wrapping around you. A hug was the last thing you had expected in that moment. It took you a moment to reciprocate the gesture, your arms closing around his body as if no time had passed since you last got a chance to do that. 
Never before had an embrace felt so healing. Like two lost puzzle pieces finally finding their way back to each other. You instantly felt the warmth he radiated entering your body and flooding through you.  
For a few seconds it was nice to pretend that no time had passed but once you remembered her, reality came crashing down on you. You wanted him to be happy more than anything but you couldn't deny that you still wished it could be you who he’d find happiness with. 
You were the first to let go, slowly stepping back to find his eyes. “I’m glad you found someone. She seems lovely,” you said while attempting to smile. 
“What..? Oh you mean Tara?” He turned his head to look back at her car for a second. “She’s my new coworker. I’m actually on the job right now, it’s a local case. I was just stopping by the apartment to grab some books I needed.”
Oh. 
“I really gotta get back to Quantico now. Where are you staying?” 
You mentioned the name of the friend you were staying with and told him, “I’m sorry I came by unannounced. You usually have Sundays off so I thought I’d give it a try.”
Spencer smiled at you and said, “No, I’m glad you did. It might be late when I get back tonight but I would really like to talk more.”
“I’m still a night owl,” you snickered. “Just call me when you're on your way home.” 
Several hours passed until your phone finally rang. The call was short, just a simple agreement you’d meet him at his place in about thirty minutes. 
When you stood in front of his door this time, you almost didn't have the courage to knock. After taking a deep breath, you did it anyway. 
As if he had been waiting right at the other side of the door, he opened immediately and let you step inside. 
“I like the way you wear your hair now. It looks great,” he complimented you. 
You noticed that he looked different, too. His hair was longer but his curls still seemed unruly. Just like they used to when you still had the chance to let your fingers brush through them. 
You smiled at him. “You look good, too.” 
It seemed like time had stood still inside his apartment. A few more books were scattered around and it looked a little more messy than what you were used to, but all in all it was still very familiar. Muscle memory led you to the same spot on his couch you always liked to sit in. 
Spencer followed you, taking his seat beside you. It was hard to find the right words when you looked into his eyes. The color of his irises reminded you of wild honey, so warm and alluring you couldn't get enough of looking at them. 
Before you got too lost, Spencer decided to start the conversation. 
“So, you have a job interview tomorrow?” 
“Yeah, I do,” you confirmed. “I want to move back here. I miss DC.” 
I miss you, was what you really wanted to say. 
“What about your job in Seattle?” 
You just shrugged and mumbled, “I’m ready for something new, I guess. Seattle never felt like home.” After a moment of uncomfortable silence you added, “I never should have left.”
Spencer shook his head. “Eventually, you would have regretted not taking that chance. And you probably would have resented me for that.”
“I never thought I would be someone who chose career over love,” you confessed. 
“It’s not that simple,” he disagreed. “I was just too stubborn and hurt to see it back then. It took several months until I could understand that I was trying to hold you back from starting a promising career. That wasn’t fair. I could have easily transferred to the Seattle field office or maybe start teaching at a university there. At the time you didn't have the same opportunities here in DC.” 
His words surprised you. It was an admission you never thought you’d hear from him.
“You wanted to choose love and career by asking me to come with you,” he continued, his tone laced with pain. “I was the one who chose his career over love. And I really regret that.”
“Spencer,” you whispered as you moved closer to him. “I missed you so much.” 
He reached out his hand to touch yours. “I missed you, too.”
His touch let something snap inside you, suddenly you were not able to hold back any longer. Without a warning your lips found his, feverishly kissing him as if you could somehow make up for lost time. 
He didn't seem surprised about your display of affection. Instead he reciprocated the kiss with a similar amount of enthusiasm. It was not enough though, there was still too much space between you. 
It was obvious that Spencer felt the same way, his hands pressing against your body until you had found your way into his lap. Between heavy breaths and lips brushing against one another, you started to forget your surroundings. 
Your chest was pushed flush against his, your racing heart sensing its counterpart inside his ribcage and skipping several beats. 
“Please, Spencer,” you whimpered against his lips, unable to let everything in your mind spill from your mouth. 
I’m sorry for leaving you. Please give me another chance. I love you. 
There was no need for those words to be spoken. Spencer understood anyway. 
“I’m yours,” he cooed between more kisses. “I have always been yours.”
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Please like, reblog and leave a comment! I need your lovely words to stay motivated to write more stories.
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Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @gspenc @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @sebs-oxygen @happymangospot @cynbx @hotchandspencearedilfs @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @velvetthunder93 @saturnstringz @missabsey @guacam011y @hugyourlungs @reiderwriter @enamoradax @hales-17 @cham9ions @loaksulluyswife @ecneremili @xserenax-13 @grumpyy-bearr @luredwithpretzels @castiels-majestic-wings @super-nerd22 @pleasantwitchgarden @yeonalie @r-3dlips @evvy96 @torigorie @meyaareads
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andvys · 10 days
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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.
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Chapter fifteen ⭐︎ I thought the plane was going down, how’d you turn it right around?
Warnings: slight angst, fluff, a lot of fluff, alcohol consumption, clingy!reader, drunk!reader
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Summary: Steve gets to know a side of you, you have never shown him before, and he takes the final step towards realization.
Word count: 10k+
Author’s note: SO @hellfire--cult and I have been waiting for this chapter (and especially for the next one). I'm so happy that we're finally here, and as always I'm giving a special shoutout to my lovely Roe, who not only helped with ideas but also wrote the whole last paragraph, the drive home and all the fluff at Steve's house. Give her all the love she deserves ♡ ilysm roe thank youuuu
Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter
Red, white and blue colors flash before your eyes, everywhere you look as you walk through the grocery store with Max. You can’t even bear to look at the holiday themed snacks and decorations on the shelves. All week, people have been preparing for a holiday, you used to love, now it’s nothing but a reminder of what you lost – of what Max lost. 
You avoided going to Big Buy’s all week, for this exact reason. 
But now you were the one who offered to go inside, when Eddie was the one who wanted to get the pre-drinks, you don’t even know why you did it, maybe it was to get away from Dustin’s and Lucas’s banter, or maybe you just wanted to prepare yourself for something much bigger. 
The Fun Fair takes place this year, just as it did, last year. And you friends wanted to celebrate the Fourth of July there. You don’t mind, you really don’t, but every place you turn today, reminds you of a dear friend you lost. 
Max walks beside you quietly. She looks around with heavy eyes and tension in her shoulders, she’s fidgeting with the bracelet that Lucas gifted to her, and keeps her eyes on the ground. 
You didn’t say anything yet, not wanting to trigger any more sadness. You’re surprised that she even offered to go inside with you, she could’ve waited and stayed with the guys, but she didn’t. 
“This day sucks.” 
These are the first words she spoke out loud, ever since you stepped inside the store.
“Yeah,” you mumble, quietly, not knowing what to say, because all you can think about is Billy, and how he died on this exact day, one year ago, when you were still so unaware of the dark truth that lied beneath this town, when you thought that it was the fire that killed him and not one of Vecna’s creatures. 
You weren’t even there, but thinking about it makes you sick and angry. You can’t even imagine what Max must’ve felt like that night. Or what she is feeling now. 
When you stop in the drink aisle, you look around for the beer Eddie asked for, but instead your eyes fall on the one brand that Billy always used to buy. Sometimes he’d bring a six pack over and leave some cans in your fridge for some other time, you are pretty sure that there are still two leftover cans hidden behind all the other drinks in your fridge. 
A sigh falls from your lips, “yeah, it does.” 
She glances at you, sadness settling into her features, when she sees the way your eyes fill with grief. 
“Billy would roll his eyes at us, right now,” she mumbles, trying to crack a joke. 
A small chuckle escapes you, and you turn to look at her with a weak smile on your face, “yes, he would.” 
She purses her lips as she looks at the beer, “are you gonna let me drink tonight?” 
You scrunch your nose, and shake your head, “are you crazy?” You scoff, as you step forward and reach for the beers, Eddie asked for, and the ones Billy would have gotten for himself. “How about you turn twenty one first, and then I’ll let you drink.” 
Max laughs at you and rolls her eyes. 
“You’re not even twenty one, and you’re drinking – oh! And buying the beers with a fake ID probably!” 
“Shush,” you wave your hand at her when an employee walks past you, giving you both a weird look. 
“I’m very close to twenty one,” you whisper. 
“You’re not even twenty yet–”
“I’m turning twenty, this year. Now stop arguing with me, and get yourself a coke or something.”
Max groans at you, “fine,” she murmurs as she follows you, “why are you even getting any drinks now when you can buy some at the Fair?”
“I’m pretty sure that Eddie doesn’t want to buy any of those overpriced drinks that taste like absolute shit.” 
She snorts, “he shouldn’t even be drinking, he’s driving.” 
“Don’t worry, he’ll walk you all home if he gets drunk.” 
Her jaw drops, and annoyance flashes in her eyes, “are you serious–”
You laugh at the look on her face, shaking your head at her, “I’m just kidding, when does Eddie ever get drunk?” You chuckle, “he’ll have one beer tops, no more, he’ll sober up till then, and if not then uh… Steve will drive you home.”
“Okay,” she sighs, as the momentarily amusement leaves her face again, and the sadness begins to sink back in, making you much more aware of your own. 
“Hey, Max?” 
She turns back to you, and raises her eyebrows in question. 
“If you feel overwhelmed at some point, you can find me and we can leave, at any time, okay?” 
She smiles a little and nods her head. 
“Okay,” she whispers, “same goes for you, if you want to leave, I’ll go with you.” 
“Okay,” you smile at her, “now let’s go pay for these and get out of here,” you mumble as you gesture to the beer in your hands. 
You feel relief rushing through you once you are out of the busy store again. The golden evening sun hits your skin, still blessing it with warmth, the air around you smells like summer, like fresh cut grass, hot pavement and honeysuckle. The wind kisses your skin and blows through your hair, it’s warm yet refreshing, it feels nice. 
“Did you buy that for me?” Dustin grins at you, pointing at the beers when you get into the passenger seat. 
Eddie glares at him through the rearview mirror. 
“Very funny, Dusty Bun.”
Lucas laughs at the nickname, nudging his shoulder against Dustin’s, “Dusty Bun,” he cackles, wiggling his brows. 
“Shut up, dude.” 
“You kids are too young to even think about trying beer,” you glare at the three teens in the back, most specifically at Lucas, who’s had some before. 
His smile falls a little, and he clears his throat, “that was one time.”
“Yeah, it better stay that way,” you point at him. 
Max snorts at the glare on your face. 
“Yes, mom.”
Eddie and Dustin chuckle. 
Your jaw drops, and you furrow your brows at the teen who is squished between Max and Dustin. 
“You act like a mom sometimes!” Lucas raises his hands up in surrender, shrugging at you. 
“No, I don’t!” 
“Yeah, you do, you’re mama bear,” Eddie snorts, making Dustin laugh louder. 
“Yeah, you’re not fooling us with your grumpy act.” 
You squint your eyes at the curly head, who is grinning happily at you. 
“Just accept it, Sweetheart,” Eddie chuckles, “you’re the mom of the group.”
“No, I only joined this group a few months back, there has to be a different mom–”
“Oh no, we only had single dad Steve,” Lucas giggles, wiggling his eyebrows at you, “but we got a mom and a dad now, so…” 
The smug look on his face, and the teasing in his eyes, isn’t exactly hard to miss. You know exactly what he is going at, what he has been going at for the past few months now. 
Sometimes, you can’t help but wonder if he somehow knows about your feelings for Steve, if he always knew about them, or if he is simply just teasing and still in the dark about everything. 
You are good at hiding your feelings, you always have been, no one ever found out about your feelings for Steve unless you wanted them to, but if there is someone who you wouldn’t underestimate, then it’s definitely Lucas, he is too smart for his own good, sometimes.
Eddie snorts beside you, mumbling, “mommy and daddy.” 
You elbow him, into his side, earning a groan from him. 
“That wasn’t very nice!” Eddie grumbles as he shoots you a glare, and presses his hand against his stomach. 
“Don’t be so dramatic, Edward.” 
He squints his eyes at you. 
“Who is Eddie then?” Dustin asks. 
“He’s the cool uncle,” Lucas shrugs. 
“Damn right, now stop yapping,” Eddie mumbles as he takes a look over his shoulder, “are you ready to throw up Hot Dogs after going on the roller coaster?” 
All three of them groan in disgust, scrunching up their faces, making him laugh. 
You shake your head at him when he starts laughing. 
“You’re such a menace.” 
Eddie only chuckles at you, he starts the car and turns up the music, and he rolls down the windows before he speeds out of the parking lot. 
You embrace the moments of peace before the chaos of the fair hits you, screaming children, crowds of people, and the overwhelming smell of food on every corner are something you are not looking forward to despite the hollowness in your stomach. You couldn’t get anything down the past few days, you nearly threw up this morning when you walked into the diner with Eddie, and the smell of Bacon hit you. 
The wind weaves through your hair as Eddie drives down the main road. 
The sound of music distracts you from your sad thoughts. 
The thought of him, filling your heart with life and your soul with hope.
He grounds you in your worst moments, and he doesn’t even know it.
-
The fairground is alive with music and screaming children, the sound of the roller coasters moving, conversations and laughter from every corner. The dazzling lights are a stark contrast against the dark sky, the smell of food wafts through the air. 
Robin and Vickie are standing next to Steve, giggling about something as they sip on their mixed beers. He is looking around, trying to catch sight of you, but you are nowhere to be found, and he is beginning to worry. 
Max and El had dragged you away for a roller coaster ride, but that was over an hour ago, and he hasn’t seen you ever since. 
Max had warned him before, when she reminded him of what this day means to you, of what happened a year back, of what and who you had lost. 
Steve doesn’t know how you deal with grief, how you feel on these kinds of days, there are too many of them in your life. He doesn’t know how you cope, he wishes that he could be there for you and give you a shoulder to lean on – but you aren’t very good at showing your true feelings or emotions, he only saw a glimpse of the truth that you hide behind those high walls you built around yourself and he doubts that you would come to him for comfort. 
A dreadful feeling is gnawing in his chest the more time passes without you being seen. 
“Hey Dingus, we’re going on the Ferris Wheel,” Robin nudges his shoulder, grinning at him. 
He blinks, tearing his eyes away from the crowds, he nods at his best friend. 
“Sure, have fun.” 
Robin furrows her brows as she takes in the sight of his frown, “are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he murmurs and plasters a smile on his face, “go and have fun with your girl.” 
She hesitates, her smile becoming weaker now, “you should go find Eddie or Dustin.”
“Yeah, I will, in a second.” 
“Your feet are not glued to the ground are they?” Vickie asks, chuckling. 
“Yeah, you’ve been stuck in this spot for like thirty minutes now!” Robin exclaims as she points her ringed finger at him, eyeing the way he is leaning against the wall with tension in his body. 
Steve chuckles, and brings his hand up to the side of his face, cupping his cheek for a moment, “I’m just looking out for the kids.”
Robin snorts, though she gives him a suspicious look. 
“Ah, but they’re not around,” she says, tilting her head as she gestures to all the strangers that surround the field, instead of the teens. 
“I told them I’d be here if they needed anything,” he shrugs and waves his hand at her, “now go and have your kiss on the top of the Ferris Wheel.” 
Robin slaps his shoulder, her cheeks taking on a deep red color, as Vickie giggles behind her. 
He chuckles at her, wiggling his brows and smirking at his best friend. 
Robin rolls her eyes and turns away from him, she offers her hand out to the redhead, who reaches for it, though with a blush on her cheeks and a shy smile on her lips. 
“See you later, Dingus,” Robin waves at Steve, not giving him the chance to respond before she drags her girl away and pushes through the crowds with her. 
Steve’s eyes follow them until he can no longer see them as they get lost in the midst of the chaos. Laughing children run around, chasing each other, a group of teenage boys carrying drinks they shouldn’t be allowed to buy, two young women walk past him, giggling amongst themselves as they eye him with interest in their eyes, Steve pays no mind to them, not even bothering to spare them a look despite the very obvious glances he is getting, even as they had already passed him. 
His eyes follow a different sight and his ears perk up at the sound of giggles that sound like yours, his lips twitch at the sound and his heart flutters wildly in his chest. 
He pushes himself off the tree he is leaning against and turns to look around. Steve’s hazel eyes soften the moment he finally sees you. 
You are standing in a circle with Eddie and his bandmates who all keep pestering you over something. Eddie leans closer to you and pinches your cheek, while Gareth jumps around you like some hyper puppy, his curls bouncing and his face flickering with amusement when you keep waving your hand at him. 
Steve smiles at the giggle that falls from your lips when Eddie swats your hand away after you ruffle his curls. 
He watches the way your lips move as you stare at him with a smug look on your face, saying something to him that makes him clutch his chest and gasp dramatically. 
Steve shakes his head as the metalhead lunges at you and you squeal in surprise before you turn around and run off with a giggle, bolting into the crowd with Eddie and Gareth hot on your heels, while Jeff and Grant follow the three of you slowly, shaking their heads in amusement.
Surprise lingers inside of him, Steve had never seen you so playful before, he had never witnessed you letting loose and having genuine fun. You are always on guard, always hiding away behind your brooding act that is slowly becoming less and less visible. 
Something has changed, something in your behavior has shifted in the past few weeks. You seem happier, you seem to smile more, you seem to be kinder to the people around you. 
Your walls are still up, but the foundation has begun to crumble, just like his did. 
You let him see a glimpse of something he never thought was even there, he saw your vulnerable side and your soft one, he saw how lovingly you treated your baby niece, he saw how sweet and gentle you could be – he saw the real you and it only made him weaker than ever before. 
There was always a part of him that left him feeling weak whenever he was with you – it wasn’t a bad kind of weak, but it was one that scared him. 
It doesn’t scare him anymore. 
He embraces the weakness now. 
Something, someone crashes into his chest, making him stumble back from the force, when he looks down, he finds you staring up at him, with your arms now wrapped around his waist and a softened look in your eyes as a smile rests on your lips. The dazzling, colorful lights from the rollercoaster and the ferris wheel only brighten the color of your eyes, making him get lost in them so easily. 
He feels your arms around his torso, and your hands on his back, your chest is now pressed against his and if he didn’t know any better, he’d say that the look in your eyes is a dreamy one as they look into his. 
The warmth in his chest blooms, the smile on his lips grows bigger, something in his stomach flutters when you stand on your tippy toes and remind him of the height difference between the two of you. 
“Hi Stevie,” you say softly. 
He would be lying if he said, he isn’t caught off guard by the tone in your voice and the look in your eyes, by your arms that are wrapped around him and your body that is pressed against his, so tightly and intimately, despite all the eyes that could see. 
“Hi Blondie,” he smiles as he slowly wraps his arms around you and acts on his feelings, when he brings you closer. 
The smell of your perfume is intoxicating and it does nothing to weaken the fluttering in his stomach. You smell like the cotton candy that you had shared with Max earlier and the beer you probably had been drinking all night, which is surprising, considering how much you despise the bitter taste of beer. 
“I missed you.” 
His eyes widen in surprise, and his eyebrows shoot up, the fluttering in his stomach now growing even stronger than before. 
You woke up in each other's arms this morning, you even sat at the kitchen table and drank your morning coffee together before you left to meet up with Eddie. 
But you missed him. 
You missed him, like he missed you.
Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, or maybe not – he hopes not. 
“Yeah?” He whispers. 
You nod, your eyes flicker to his lips, before they move back up, to meet his. 
“I missed you too, Blondie.”
He nearly crumbles when your smile grows even bigger and a blush creeps up on your face, a breathy, small giggle falls from your lips. And then, you surprise him once again, when you bury your face in his chest and hug him tightly. 
His heart rate picks up and his breathing becomes heavy from all the emotions inside of him. 
He certainly never met this side of you before,and he never even knew that you could become much softer than what he had already seen of you. 
Without looking around to make sure that you are away from prying eyes, he wraps his arms tighter around you, and hugs you in a way he wanted to all night. 
Confusion, adoration and happiness floods through him, all at once. 
Here he thought that this day would bring out some darkness in you, that you would hide in a corner and try to drink away your sorrows but instead the alcohol in your system brought something else out in you. 
As Steve holds you in the middle of the fairground and you slide your palm over his chest, resting your hand above the place where his heart beats strongly, he feels himself falling into your embrace, losing all his vision of the people and the things before him, losing all the sounds around him, no longer feeling the ground beneath his feet – all he sees is you, all he hears is the beating of his own heart, all he feels is you, only you. 
And as though, it didn’t hit him hard enough already, you place your chin on his chest and you tilt your head up to look at him, giving him a sweet smile, “kissy?” You ask, puckering your lips. 
He could melt into a puddle, right then and there. 
Despite not wanting to, he lets his eyes roam the space around you, making sure that none of your friends are watching, before he leans in to place a kiss on your lips – one that is way too quick for your liking, the pout that follows your puckered lips makes his heart burst. 
You look at him with literal puppy eyes, glinting with a pleading look. 
He almost doesn’t recognize you – you are not the Blondie that he saw a few hours back, but he is not complaining in the slightest, he really likes this side of you. 
Cupping your cheeks, he rests his large palms against your skin, his fingertips getting lost in your hair as he leans down to kiss you again, smacking his lips against yours, he delivers a loud kiss, one that makes you giggle when he pulls away again and looks down at you with a lazy smile on his face. 
“How much did you drink?” Steve asks, chuckling when you keep staring at him with a big smile. 
“Just a little bit,” you slur, and raise your hand to show him as you furrow your brows and hold your thumb and pointer finger into an L shape, “so much.” 
He laughs as he tucks your hair behind your ears, “alright.”
“I want something else now.” 
“What, more alcohol?” Steve asks, raising his brows. 
You shake your head, scrunching up your nose in a way that makes him smile as he looks at you adoringly.
“No, I think I had too much already.”
“Yeah, I think so too, honey,” he murmurs, the nickname rolling off his tongue easily, almost normal, “you don’t feel sick, do you?” 
“No, just thirsty.” 
“Alright, let’s get you something to drink then,” he says, unable to stop smiling, when you look at him this way. He moves his hands away from your face and he reaches for your hand, sliding his palm against your own, he entwines his fingers with yours, and you welcome his action, happily. 
Steve isn’t drunk, he didn’t have a single sip of alcohol this evening, not a single drag of Argyle’s joint and yet, he feels as though he is under the influence of something strong, his mind is in a haze, that careless and freeing feeling lingers in his chest, happiness and giddiness rushes through him and he feels as though he is floating with you. 
He can’t even find it in himself to care if anyone sees him with you like this – smiling at each other, hugging and kissing one another, holding hands, and acting like a couple. He knows your friends are here, but Steve just doesn’t give a damn – not even when Heidi walks past him with her friends and they all look at you weirdly. 
He hears the hushed whispers, he sees the squinted eyes as they look you up and down and their eyes fall on your entwined fingers. He pays no mind to the way they look at him, but irritation sparks at him when they keep staring at you. He can see the judgment, and the jealousy, it’s so obvious. 
Steve holds back the eyeroll and he grasps your hand tighter as he begins to drag you away from the prying eyes and the whispers of envy. He would rather kiss you and flip them off but he cannot risk this, he can’t risk you two getting caught. Rumors would circulate, words would get twisted and it would only be a matter of time until all your friends would find out. 
And he isn’t ready to get caught, he isn’t ready to lose this, to lose you. 
He glances down at you, seeing the smile that didn’t leave your face just yet. You are unaware to all the eyes on you, to the looks you were given, you are still holding onto his hand as tight as before, stepping closer to him when a group of boys rush past you. 
You turn to him and raise your head to glance at him, shooting him a sweet smile as you squeeze his hand, causing his heart to flutter and his smile to reappear. 
You are so cute like this. 
He pulls you closer and shields you from anyone who brushes past you as you walk through the crowd together, getting lost in the chaotic field, where the music is louder and the people are too. 
Steve looks around, trying to catch sight of the teens or Eddie and his bandmates but he only sees the town people that he couldn’t care less about while you follow him like some lost puppy, clinging to his side and looking up with big eyes, every few seconds or so. 
You both get in line at the drink stall, your hands are still joined, fingers entwined and arms still pressed together. You stumble into him, prompting him to hold you a little tighter. 
“I’m sorry,” you slur as you reach your free hand up to grab his arm. 
“It’s fine,” he chuckles at you, adoring you a little more and more as the seconds pass. 
You are drunk – not tipsy, not slightly drunk, no, you are genuinely and definitely drunk. And as he stands here with you, eying you closely and watching the way you keep looking up at him with your widened pupils and your lazy smiles, he realizes that he had never actually witnessed you being drunk – high and tipsy? Sure. But never drunk. 
“Why’d you drink so much, Blondie?” 
“I didn’t even drink that much,” you shrug, “I’m just not used to drinking that beer.”
Steve raises his brows, knowing how much you despise the taste of regular beer. You only drink it when it’s mixed with something. 
“What kind of beer?” 
You furrow your eyebrows, your eyes flash with confusion, you seemingly can’t remember the name of it. 
You look down and your eyes widen when you find a discarded can on the grass, you point your finger at it, “that one.”
Steve’s eyes follow your gaze and the direction your finger is pointing at, he raises his eyebrows again. 
“You don’t even like beer that much,” he mumbles and turns back to you. 
“Billy did,” you shrug. 
Oh. 
His features relax again and his shoulders slump a little, realization flickers in his eyes. 
You didn’t drink for fun, you were trying to forget about the sadness and the grief that must’ve lingered all day. 
He is surprised that the alcohol didn’t have a negative effect on you. Drinking while feeling sad can worsen those emotions, the alcohol can transform them into a darker sadness or even into anger and despair. 
But you seem fine, happy even. 
If only he knew that he is the reason for it. 
“The fireworks are about to start,” you say, pulling him out of his thoughts. 
He blinks. 
“Yeah,” Steve nods. 
“Do you want to watch them with me?” 
His heart skips a beat at the softness in your voice, at the hopeful look in your eyes and the sweet smile on your lips. 
Of course he does. 
“Yeah,” he smiles, nodding. “I’d love to.”
Your eyes crinkle as you beam at him, stealing his breath away with simple reactions like these. 
Steve is not even sure if anyone had ever looked at him this way, no one has ever even made him feel this way, no one had ever stolen his breath away just from simply looking at him the way you do now. 
You take him by surprise when you stand on your tippy toes and lean closer to him to place a kiss on his cheek, leaving him a blushing mess. 
Your giggle sounds like music to his ears, your touch drives him crazy as you squeeze yourself against him and lay your head on his chest as your arms come around his torso again. 
He could fall to his knees right here, right now. 
Is this the real you? 
Is this the side you’ve been hiding from the world? 
Is this the way you would have always been with him, had you not experienced so much loss and pain? 
Steve wraps his arms around you, unable to hold back from showing and giving you the affection that you are blessing him with in this moment, even when the anxiety of getting caught still lingers. 
He cups your cheeks and leans closer to your ear, “where do you wanna watch the fireworks?” 
“Maybe the woods? Or the big field?” You ask as you look at him with big eyes, “so we can be away from all these annoying people?”
He laughs when you gesture to the loud fairground visitors.
The lights that flicker around you kiss your beautiful face and your skin that he wants to feel on his at any time, your lips that always look so inviting, you look so delicate, so soft, so gorgeous, you look like someone that could ruin his life and right in this moment, he doesn’t even mind it, he would let you. 
It hits him, in this second, it hits him just how bad he’s got it for you. 
Steve Harrington is down bad. 
Down bad to a point in which he almost calls you ‘my girl’ when he is about to order your drink, he catches himself just in time but he can’t hide the blush that creeps up on his face. 
You don’t seem to notice though, you swing your joined hands back and forth and look around with a contentment in your relaxed features. 
He hands you the ice cold pepsi after placing the ten dollar bill on the small desk, telling the teen behind the counter to keep the change. 
“That was nice of you,” you say as you both start walking away from the drink stall and from the crowds.
“What, letting him keep the change?” 
You nod and let go of his hand to open your can. 
“Poor guy has to work on a holiday, he should get a good tip,” Steve shrugs, already missing the feeling of your hand in his, he raises his arm and wraps it around your shoulder instead, pulling you closer against him. 
Your lips twitch at that, a smile forms on your face. 
“Still, that was nice of you, you’re a nice guy,” you giggle. 
“Well, I gotta make up for all the times I wasn’t a nice guy.”
You don’t say anything to that, you can’t. Steve doesn’t even blame you, you witnessed him in his worst moments, you were his target, more than once. 
You shot back at him but your words weren’t hurtful, your insults and your jabs were never personal. You got under his skin, but not in the way he got under yours. 
He truly wasn’t a nice guy to you and that might be one of his biggest regrets. He was mean, awful even and now as he looks at you, at the cute frown on your face as you pop the can, at the way you take a sip of your favorite drink and smile afterwards, he can’t understand how he could ever treat you so unkindly, how he didn’t see you before.  
You might’ve been rough, snarky and unapproachable but there was never denying of how beautiful you are, how beautiful you have always been. 
How come he never asked you out? 
He might’ve never seen this side of you before and he only ever knew one side of you, but your snarkiness wouldn’t have kept King Steve away from you, if anything, your little act should’ve made him more intrigued. 
And now he can’t help but wonder what things would have been like had he not treated you the way he did, had he asked you out and fought for a chance with you. 
Could’ve things been different then? 
Would you have fallen in love with him? 
Would you have prevented the heartbreak that Nancy had cursed him with two years ago? 
The pain from his last relationship no longer matters to Steve, not since you, but this question still lingers. 
“This spot is perfect.”
You pull him out of the past and back into the presence with a tug on his hand. 
Steve looks around, you are no longer surrounded by people, instead it’s the trees that are around you and him, you’re at the edge of the forest, not far enough to drown at the music and the chatter but quiet enough to hear your voice clearer now, it’s much darker out here but he can still see you well enough. 
You close your eyes and drink your pepsi, completely unaware of his unwavering glances. A sigh leaves your lips and you place the now half full can on the ground before you step closer to him and reach for his hand again, taking a look at the watch around his wrist, you squint your eyes and lean down closer, “it’s about to start any minute.” 
He smiles at you, nodding his head slowly, “yeah.”
Steve feels the urge to pull you tight against him, to hold you and kiss you like he never did before. 
You look up and meet his eyes when you notice his staring, a smile appears on your lips, “what?” You ask with a soft giggle. 
He shakes his head and shrugs, “nothing.”
You bite your lip and he wants nothing more than to grab your face and kiss you breathless. 
You raise your eyebrows at him and stare back at him, stumbling over air as you try to take a step closer to him, making you both chuckle at your drunken clumsiness, your hand falls against his body, while he grabs your waist, steadying you on your own feet, “whoa, easy tiger.” 
You giggle at the nickname, making his own smile widen. 
“You’re really drunk, aren’t you?” 
You don’t even deny it, in fact, you don’t even answer the question as you keep staring up at him, keeping your hands against his chest as your eyes flicker from the spitcurl that hangs over his forehead, his eyes and his lips. 
Steve’s stomach flutters just the way his heart does, his skin tingles beneath from your touches, the look in your eyes makes him want to kiss you even more. 
“You’re feeling okay though, right?” He whispers as he slowly brings his hand up to the side of your face and he cups your cheek. 
“Yeah, I’m okay now,” you nod, leaning into his touch, “I-I just… I miss him.”
Steve might never understand the friendship you had with Billy, he only knew the ugly sides of him but you knew more, you saw deeper, you were his friend – something Steve didn’t even know Billy had, he was sure the guy didn’t even know what the term ‘friendship’ even meant. 
“And that’s okay, Blondie,” he says, giving you a sad smile, “it’s okay to miss people and to grieve for them.”
Tears well up in your eyes and your lips curl downwards. 
Steve didn’t mean for this to happen, he didn’t mean to make you cry. 
“Hey,” he whispers, pulling you closer as he catches the first tear with his thumb, “it’s okay, honey.”
You sniffle and roll your eyes at yourself, “he would punch me in the face for crying,” you joke.
Steve can’t help but laugh. 
“And he’d make fun of me for being with you, he would like–” you pause and lean in to peck his lips, “he would smack my head if I did that in front of him!” You say with a giggle, despite the tears that still keep falling.
His cheeks heat up at the kiss, the need for more growing strong in his chest. 
“He really didn’t like me, huh?”
“Not one fucking bit, Stevie,” you chuckle sadly. 
Steve wonders how things would be if he was still here, would this thing between you even work out? 
Would Billy keep you away from him?
“But nothing could take me away from you, he’d just have to suck it up,” you whisper as you peck his lips again, shutting down the worries in his head. 
He almost feels his pulse in his throat as his heart beats faster, your words doing little to calm the beating of his heart. 
“Oh?” Is the only thing he can say as all the other words freeze in his brain. 
You nod as you look into his eyes deeply, refusing to break eye contact. He notices the way your chest starts moving faster as your breathing gets heavier, he sees the way your smile transforms into a nervous frown and your throat bobs as you try to come up with words. 
His breath hitches in his throat when you whisper his name shakily. 
“I–”
Whatever you were about to say gets lost in the wind as the loud explosion in the sky cuts you off and tears your attention away from him. The colors pop in the sky, illuminating the darkened space around you both.
You tilt your head to watch the lights that reflect in your eyes, the smile you wore before makes its way back into your pretty face, the tension in your body disappears and you relax into him again. 
But while your drunken mind gets distracted by all of this so easily, Steve only really sees you. He doesn’t look up just yet, he lets himself admire you for a moment. 
Your eyes light up as they meet his for a brief second, flashing with awe. 
His heart could jump out of his chest from how hard it’s beating, his knees could give out any moment now. 
“Look!” You beam at him as you point your finger at the blue colors. 
His gaze follows yours but it returns to your face so quickly, something about you pulls him in, a magnet, a string, a strong connection – he can’t identify it yet, but he feels like his whole being yearns for you and not just sexually. 
He wants to keep doing this, he wants to keep holding your hand, he wants to keep hugging you, he wants to keep spending time with you like this, he wants to stand under the night sky with you, and he especially wants to do this. 
“Hey,” he whispers as he cups your cheeks with both hands, pulling your attention back to him. 
You greet him with an adoring smile, “hi,” you whisper.
Steve caresses your cheek, he is starting to lean in closer, fading out the colors that flash in his peripheral vision, before his lips can even touch yours, you throw your arms around his neck and beat him to it, pressing your lips against his over and over again before you move on to both of his cheeks and even the tip of his nose as you start showering him in kisses, catching him off guard completely. 
Steve giggles in surprise, his cheeks match the colors that lighten up the sky as they glow red. 
And then, you finally pull him into a longer kiss. 
You close your eyes and he does too, your lips start moving slowly, passionately. You rest your hands on his neck and steal his breath away by deepening the kiss as you slip your tongue into his mouth and let him have a taste of your sweetness, the cotton candy and the pepsi still linger on your lips. 
Your noses bump into each other and you break the kiss with a giggle, giving him a sweet smile before you lean back in again, kissing and continuing to steal his breath away, not knowing what you have just done to his poor heart, how much life, how much hope you have filled it with. 
A smile, a giggle, a simple kiss with you is all it takes for all the defense around him to crumble into dust. 
Something he thought he lost seeps back into his heart, something he thought that stayed in the past and to never be touched again blooms in him. 
Everything inside of him screams in joy, his stomach doing somersaults, his skin prickling from the excitement, his lips tugging into a smile even through the kiss that he deepens more and more. 
This kiss is different from all the other ones you have shared before, this one means something, this one won’t lead to you tearing each other’s clothes off. No, this is just a kiss. 
A kiss that means everything. 
A kiss that changes everything. 
You stole his breath completely and made it your own, you stole his heart, his soul, his whole being. 
And the noise of the fireworks, the sparks igniting from them, match those in Steve's heart. Just exploding, bursting, burning him from inside out.
And he embraces the feeling fully.
He wants more of this, more of you. 
He wants to cross a line, he wants you in a whole new way and he is no longer ashamed to admit it to himself. 
It feels like forever as you stand there beneath the sparkling sky, kissing and staying in each other’s embrace as you both savor every second of this moment, only pulling away to catch your breaths before you lean back in for more. 
The fireworks stop, but only those in the sky. 
Your lips are still moving with each other, your tongues still mingling together, whines and whimpers fall from you – tonight, they don’t fill him with lust and need, no, tonight they fill him with adoration. 
Your arms tighten around his neck, your nose is flush against his as you refuse to break the kiss but the lack of air makes it impossible and it forces you away from him, though you don’t pull away too far, only enough to catch your breath.
Steve leans his forehead against yours, slowly opening his eyes to look into yours, his heart flutters yet again when he sees how wide your eyes are, how they flicker with deep emotions. 
Unable to hold back, he leans in to peck your puffy lips one more time. 
“Steve,” you whisper as your hands begin to slip from his shoulders to his chest. 
“Yes?”
“Can I be with you tonight?”
He furrows his brows at your question, he wants you to be with him tonight, he wants you with him every night. 
“Of course, Blondie.”
You smile at him though it’s a weak one and it makes him frown. 
“What’s wrong?” 
“Nothing,” you shake your head, scrunching your nose. 
“Are you feeling sick?” He asks, tilting your head up. 
You shake your head again, “just really tired.”
Your words are still slurred, the alcohol still deep in your system. 
“Let’s go home then.”
“Do you want to go?” You ask, looking at him with a cute frown on your face as you tilt your head to the side, “I-I can still wait if you want to stay here longer.”
Steve smiles at you, shaking his head, “no, I want to go home with you.”
The smile on your lips replaces the frown. 
He brushes his thumb against your bottom lip and stares at you adoringly. 
“Come on, we should tell Eddie.” 
You pick up your discarded drink before you slide your fingers through his, intertwining your fingers with his again. 
“Let’s go,” he whispers, squeezing your hand. 
You follow him without a single word, walking beside him quietly as you make your way out of the woods and back into the fair where the lights are bright and he can see you better now. 
It’s still just as crowded as it was before and just as loud. 
Steve keeps you close, glancing at you, he notices the squinted eyes and how displeased you look by all the noises and the people around you. 
He holds your hand tighter, giving it another reassuring squeeze. 
“I can’t wait to go to sleep,” you mumble, taking the last few sips of your soda before you throw it into the trashcan you pass by. You wrap your free hand around his bicep and squish your cheek against it.
Steve’s smile widens, his eyes glint with nothing but fondness. 
“There you are!” 
Steve turns to find Eddie walking towards you both, throwing his hands up with a worried look on his face that slowly begins to disappear when he realizes that you have been with him all this time, though his eyebrows pull together when he sees your entwined hands and the closeness between you. 
Steve expects you to run away from him and into your best friend’s arms, but you don’t, you stick to his side. 
“Hi Eddie!” You mumble lazily as a smile appears on your face. 
You all halt in your tracks once you meet in the middle. 
“Hey sweets, are you okay?” He asks, eying you up and down one more time. 
“Peachy!”
“Where have you been?” 
Steve clears his throat, “we watched the fireworks from the woods and now I’m gonna take this one home, she’s tired.”
Eddie squints his eyes at him, giving a once over now – the way he has been doing it for some time now, like he is suspicious of his actions, like he wants to figure him out so he can protect you from him and irritates Steve. 
“I can take her home,” Eddie shrugs. 
“No!” You protest, clinging to Steve’s arm, you hold him tighter not wanting to be pulled away from him. 
Steve chuckles softly, he looks down at you adoringly. 
“Don’t worry, Eddie. I’ll take her home to sleep, maybe shove some coffee down her throat, see if that helps. I am sensing I’m having a hungover Blondie tomorrow.” 
Eddie raises one eyebrow at him, he crosses his arms over his chest, defensively. And Steve notices it from the corner of his eye, causing the smile to leave his face as a frown etches into his features instead. 
“I’m not doing anything if that's what you’re fucking thinking, Munson.” 
Eddie raises his hands up in surrender, “sorry, can’t blame me for caring.”
That… Stings. 
That actually hurts his feelings. 
He may not be as close to Eddie as you are to him, but Eddie knows him well enough to know that he would never do anything like this. 
“You really think I’m that disgusting?” Steve asks, not bothering to hide the hurt in his voice. 
Eddie sighs. 
Of course he doesn’t. 
He is just protective of his best friend, of her feelings. 
Neither of you notice the way you keep looking between them, completely lost and confused. 
“I don’t know what kind of deal you both have, Steve, but I’m allowed to care. I would’ve given her the same look if the roles were reversed.” 
“She’s not like that,” Steve argues instantly. 
Eddie sighs again, uncrossing his arms, he drops them to his side as he takes a look at the sky with a long sigh. 
“I know she’s not, I know you’re not. Just… take care of her…”
Steve is still hurt by Eddie’s reaction, by the accusing look in his eyes, like Steve would do anything to hurt you. 
He knows that it might only be because you are his best friend, because he feels protective of you, because he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you – but to know that he was worried about you while you were with him makes him feel sick. 
Steve would never do anything to hurt someone, let alone you. 
“Can we go now?” You ask, looking up at him with big eyes. 
A weak smile appears on his face as he looks down at you, “yeah, we can go.”
Steve doesn’t notice the way Eddie’s squinted eyes linger on him, the way he looks down at your hands, watching as Steve pulls you closer despite you being glued to his side already. 
He can’t help but sigh when he sees the way you look at him, the dreaminess and the love is so evident and it worries him, your feelings for Steve worry him because he fears that he will break your heart, that he will rip it out of your chest. 
Eddie is so focused on his worries, he doesn’t even see the way Steve looks at you. 
“I’m gonna call you tomorrow, Eds.”
Eddie smiles at you, “yeah, alright.” 
Steve nods at Eddie, only giving him a small smile as he starts pulling you away. 
“Bye man,” Steve mumbles as he brushes past him. 
“Bye Eddie!” 
“Yeah, sleep well, sweets.” Eddie smiles, waving at you. 
Walking away from the fairground and leaving behind the crowds of people and your best friend feels like a relief to Steve. He can’t move past the glances the metalhead gave to him, the worried looks he spared you as though you were in some kind of danger with him. 
He can’t confront him, he can’t talk to him about it and tell him how wrong he is though, he would give away his feelings and he can’t do that. 
You walk beside him quietly, not a single word falls from your lips, you just keep holding his hand, looking up at him every once in a while until you make it to his car. 
Steve opens the door for you, begrudgingly letting go of you so you can get inside, he helps you buckle in your seatbelt, a surprised chuckle falls from his lips when you use the opportunity to kiss his cheek and he can’t even help himself but do the same to you, smacking his lips against your cheek to give you a loud smooch, one that makes you giggle. 
He can see the tiredness in your eyes, the way you slowly blink and how you sink deeper into the car seat as you yawn. 
“Let's get you into bed, honey.”
Steve keeps the music on low during the drive home, you keep dozing off as your head keeps falling to the side but every time you open your eyes again, you look at him and you keep your eyes on him, making him blush beneath your softened gaze. 
And then, you make his heart swell and his chest vibrate when you place your hand on his thigh and smile at him sweetly. 
Everything about you drives him crazy today. 
Every glance, every touch, every word, every kiss. 
You have brought something out in him, something that was buried deep inside, hidden and locked away but you have found the key, you unlocked it, you brought something back that he thought was impossible to ever resurface again and you made it yours, you made him yours, all yours. 
And now, he wants to give you everything. 
He wants to take care of you, he wants to shower you with affection, he wants to be the one for you. 
You’re making things complicated but in the most amazing of ways, in the most beautiful of twists that he couldn’t believe would happen again for him. Your small glances are enough to turn a flame in his entire body, your hand on his thigh as he parks at his home enough to send butterflies in his stomach, butterflies that he swore died when Nancy broke his heart.
Your touch is enough to make him tremble and make his knees buckle, when he helps you out of his car, both of you laugh as you almost fall right on your ass, even with his help. He is happy. He is content. He is extremely giddy when he is with you, as if he were fourteen all over again.
Even when you are not like this, when you are not this bubbly uncaring self, he still enjoys his time with you. He enjoys the accidental snorts that make him laugh as you swat him to try to stop him from laughing. The happy delighted moans you give when you try his cooking. The out of nowhere conversations in the mornings that you two now share together. 
He likes it when you put on that strong wall, it makes you look cute, it makes him want to break it down. He loves the small banter, the pretend fights when you two are with the whole group, the way you pinch his side when you walk past him when no one is looking. He adores it.
When he finally manages to get you inside, he immediately urges you into the kitchen, making you drink water, not pepsi, despite your pouts and your teary eyes which almost make him become a puddle on the floor. He also gives you a leftover chicken sandwich he had in his fridge so you would eat something to absorb the alcohol.
“Eat at least half of that.” He commands and you just grumble something, cutely so, underneath your breath as you take a bite. He knew you probably didn’t eat anything at the fair, a possible reason for your drunkenness.
“I’ll eat… if you give me a kiss.” And just like that you pucker your lips his way and his heart can barely handle it. He licks his lips before leaning towards you and placing them on yours in a soft peck, a quick one. You smile before taking the first bite, and when you swallow it seems as if it turns on the hunger in your belly because you devour that sandwich in seconds.
He hopes you keep it down your stomach for the whole night and that it helps you feel okay in the morning. He wonders how you will act tomorrow, if you’ll remember all of this, if you’ll remember how much you kissed him, how you made him feel. He should tell you… He should…
But what if it’s the alcohol doing its thing?
“Okay, let’s go to bed.” And doing so turns out to be a challenge because as soon as you finish your food and water, your eyelids start to drop. Getting you off the stool and dragging you upstairs is easy but keeping you sitting up as he tries to change you into his clothes, that is another issue.
“I don’t wanna…” You mumble as you throw yourself back down onto the mattress, chest bare. He would have gotten riled up, if it weren’t for the fact he felt domestic, fluttery, and his chuckles came out easily out of his lips when looking at you.
“You have to, it’s just the shirt, come on.” His voice is soft as he talks to you, making you raise yourself up again, sitting in front of him and raising your arms up for him to slide his shirt on you. As soon as it’s on, you bounce back and get comfortable in his pillow with a contented sigh. He smiles at you as he takes off his shirt and starts unbuckling his belt in order to get comfortable. His own tiredness is starting to take a toll on his body.
He doesn’t notice that you had turned your head to look at him again, and a wolf whistle is heard in the room, making him turn to look at you. You have a cheeky smile on your face and he feels himself blushing slightly as he laughs, taking his pants off next, leaving him in boxers only. 
“As if you haven’t seen it before.” He says and it only makes you whistle again as he saunters over with a shake of his head, a smile still plastered on his lips.
“Doesn’t mean I can’t adore it everytime,” you whisper. 
And that makes the smile drop, but in shock. Your words went deep, soothing over wounds that had been created long ago, and he doesn’t mean his scars. He has to clear his throat in order to walk towards the bed and get inside right next to you, only for you to immediately crawl on top of him, laying your chin on his chest, looking at him.
It holds so much adoration for some reason, a sparkle that makes Steve’s stomach turn, hope that rose in his throat like vomit, ready to come out, overwhelming him. You are looking at him as if he hung the stars for you, as if he were your only person in the entire world. 
And he knows he is looking down at you in the exact same way.
“What now?”
“You’re just so pretty… It’s stupid how pretty you are.” He chuckles, making his chest rumble and for you to bounce up and down with it. 
You pout but it’s followed by a smile, “it’s true, you are.”
“I’m not told that very often Blondie.” He honestly replies and that makes you raise your head up and look down at him with determination in your eyes. “Wh–”
He can’t even finish his question because your lips start going crazy on his face, but softly, caring, taking extra time on following the lines of moles he has on his jaw. He is startled, shocked, for no one ever did this to him, not even his own mother. No one ever showered him with affection, with kisses. 
And as though that wasn’t sweet and surprising enough, you nuzzle your nose against his, giggling when a big smile appears on his face. 
You are cute. You are so fucking cute. 
It is an overwhelming feeling, one that almost makes him feel like crying. 
Your lips pressed on the tip of his nose as you pulled away, a proud smile on your face, and he wonders what is going through your mind right now. If it it’s all true, fuck, he wants it all to be true. He needs it to be true. He needs and desires that you are doing all of this intentionally to him, despite the alcohol. 
“There, now you know.” 
You really are beautiful, so beautiful. He feels drunk on you, seeing you, feeling you… his hand rises up, not able to contain himself as it runs through the back of your head and pulls you down to his lips, letting him give you a deep kiss. A kiss that made the fireworks he saw earlier explode inside his room again. 
You follow his lips with a hum, and he doesn’t want to pull away. He needs it all. He needs you. Not in the way he has been having you the past month. Not at all, not even close.
He lets you pull away, and his hand caresses your cheek, pulling your head down to rest on his chest again as your legs intertwine with his underneath the sheets. He wonders if you can hear how fast his heart is beating. If it bangs your head from how hard he feels his chest being hit with it. 
“Sleep Blondie.” He wishes anything but that, but he needs the silence, the time alone.
“Hmm… night Stevie…” And he knows your eyes are closed, that you mumble that with the last bit of strength you had. His eyes remain on the ceiling as his mind starts working, gears going round and round, going overtime.
He had been running from the definition of the feeling, even if he knew it was there, even if he accepted everything else that came with it. He kept running and running, and now he had hit a wall.
So it’s time to stop and turn around to face you.
Steve Harrington decides to stop running as he looks down at you and his lips press at the top of your head while his arms hold you tighter. You whine in your sleep, yet your cheek nuzzles even more into his chest. 
He can’t deny you anymore. Not when you look like this in his arms. Not when you peppered his face with kisses he never received. Not when he saw you in a vulnerable moment of yours. Not when he gets to see you moan in pleasure because of him. Not when he gets to see you have fun with everyone else. Not when you saved his life, going headfirst for him. Not when you already send smiles his way that make his heart stop.
And if you wake up tomorrow with a headache, he will be waiting for you with coffee in hand, an advil, and some food, ready to help you. To take care of you. He will let you lay in his bed all the time you need, all in order to make you feel better.
Because Steve Harrington started feeling again.
He likes you. He terribly and adoringly likes you… and he is afraid because–
It’s nowhere near little. Not at all.
“Can’t believe I fell for you, Blondie.”
tagging friends and mutuals!
@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @maroon-cardigan @thecreelhouse @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @sherrylyn628 @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars
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