rosewaterandivy

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Knives Out (2019) // Glass Onion (2022)

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Wild at Heart (1990) dir. David Lynch

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whatever's still to come masterlist

gif by @laurens-german

pairing: steve harrington x f!reader

summary: a cursed immortal, a man who's seen too much, and an apocryphal story that spans lifetimes.

content warnings: angst, slowburn/slowbuild, mutual pining, prosaic idolatry, smut, allusions to myth & history.

 🌙 playlist | pinterest board | story tag & inspo |

⏳ chapter index

prologue

i

ii

☀️ bonus features: ⤵️

✨ oneshots:

the workin’ of my hands

⭐ drabbles/blurbs:

sneak peak

currently accepting headcanon/drabble requests and discussions for this series, feel free to send something in!

P.S. I do not do tag lists, if you want to keep up with this fic, please bookmark this post or follow me directly, thank you.

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some version of you

summary: you, current overseas war correspondent and general disaster of a woman, are guilt-tripped back to smallville by your uncle and have the absolute displeasure of running into clark kent, undercover metahuman (or alien? you were never sure of the verbiage) and former, well, complication, shall we say? despite making it your personal mission to avoid him, he always manages to suss you out. an ill-omen if you ever saw one. wouldn't be surprised if tomorrow's saccharine above the fold reads, "Town Golden Boy and Former Teenage Miscreant Bury the Hatchet." As if. pairing: clark kent (superman 2025) x fem!reader w.c.: wip c.w.: 18+ mdni, yearning level: one million, first loves, flashback vignettes, overuse of italics, emotional constipation but they fuck well, complex weird and rude reader, kink exploration by mutual idiocy, abandonment issues, alcoholic parent, war-related injuries, all the sex (tbd), angst, happy ending (but you gotta work for it!)

playlist | ao3 |

like the prodigal son

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Clark Kent save me😞

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do you like my repetitive and outdated music taste

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Joe Keery as Travis 'Teacake' Meacham Cold Storage (2026) dir. Jonny Campbell

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you’ll never guess which upcoming movie this passage is describing 😂😂😂

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its important to write fanfiction no one cares about 👍

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*Valley Girl voice*: I must, like, not fear. Fear is literally the mind-killer. Like it’s basically the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will totally face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me, and? When it’s gone? I’m gonna like turn the inner eye to see its path! Where the fear has gone there will be literally nothing. Only I will remain.

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#He’s the big brother she deserved

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Today is the only day you can reblog this

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also the sunset light was back at it again in my apartment last night

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Thank you baby 🥹💜

Robin who’s all skinned kneed and sun speckled nearly vibrating out of her skin because her person is coming to town and they’ll finally meet Steve.

Keith shoos her away from Family Video, letting her off early with barely disguised annoyance. Steve waves her off from the counter, a lock of hair flopping into his face when he says, “Tell them hey from me.”

“Keep it in your pants, Harrington!” She laughs, pausing at the door, “We’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t do anything dumb in the meantime.”

He raises his hands in faux innocence. “No promises.”

Her parents honk from the lot as she stumble runs toward the car. Her skin is thrumming as she hastily clambers into the backseat, only to be tackled in a hug. She tucks her smile close to your throat and squeezes back, words a jumble of nonsense and squeals.

And it’s like she can breathe again. The tension falling from her shoulders and settling somewhere far and away. Your hand settles between her shoulders, soft and quiet.

Later that first evening, after idle chitchat at dinner Robin allows herself to revel in the comforting rise and fall of your voice. Becomes familiar with the gleam of mischief in your eyes. Studies the fresh polish on your fingers and toes— her favorite color.

You’re set up on the trundle bed with sheets worn soft from repeated washings, skin freshly scrubbed and hair pillow-tossed.

Robin tongues the back of her teeth, secreting away the words she’s desperate to say. Thinks back to sleep away camp, fleeting visits on school breaks, creases letters and scant phone calls. Looks at you, really looks at the first person she’s loved outside her family. And how that means something wonderful and fragile.

Hates how scared she is that it can fall apart in an instant.

Your fingers lazily twine with hers and give a soft squeeze as your hands dangle between bedsheets. Her mind shuffles back to the memory of cherry chapstick and your tongue behind her teeth, a first kiss worthy of repeated recollection. The vibration of your chuckle against her throat as you gave her a shrug and talked through the boys and girls you’d loved before.

Screwing her eyes shut and kicking herself for this, she wrests a promise from you—

Please don’t fall in love with him.