#they are gonna spend all season doing insane things for each other

[tategaminu]

Oh, to have a freak that will fight a bear wolf zombie thing to protect you

[fairyysoup]

i can see you

♫︎ i can see you - taylor swift ♫︎

pairing(s): steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: The secret history of your long and arduous relationship with Steve Harrington.

aka: the 5 times you pined over each other, and the time you actually did something about it

words: 17.6k (we're NOT gonna talk about it lol)

cw: explicit, smut, piv sex, flirting, making out, heavy petting, slight exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), fingering, marking, biting, steve harrington has a big dick, themes of infidelity/cheating (sort of), skipping out on dates, bad dates, steve steal-your-girl harrington, almost-kisses, jealous!steve, jealous!reader, possessive behavior, smoking, alcohol consumption, allusions to marriage but it's never actually mentioned, canon compliant, reader and steve are the same age, 5+1 things, songfic, angst, fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, pining, mutual crush, slow burn one shot, mild twist ending, begins in season two (1984) and ends in the 90s, high school, scoops ahoy era, family video era, waiter!steve, steve harrington (the eras tour), vignette, one instance of billy hargrove slander, original characters created for plot, inspired by i can see you by taylor swift, other taylor song inspo throughout bc i'm insane like miss swift

a/n: hi and welcome to ✨rose's mental breakdown✨ yes this song will be my number one on spotify wrapped bc i listened to it on a loop for five days straight while writing this. idk. anyways this is So Much and i'm tired of looking at it so if there are any mistakes i apologize. anyways whoever can point out the most taylor song references aside from the obvious titular one gets a doubloon

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

You brush past me in the hallway, and you don’t think I can see you, do you? I’ve been watchin’ you for ages, and I spend my time trying not to feel it…

Hawkins High, September 1984

He’s so pretty sometimes that it’s disgusting.

That’s really the only thing you think when you watch Steve Harrington sneak up on his girlfriend, Nancy Wheeler, and swoop her off the ground in front of her locker. From across the hall, your locker hangs open, your body turned halfway toward them so that you can pretend that you’re not staring.

You stare a lot.

It’s not exactly the hair, you think- everyone shits a brick about his hair, for some reason that you don’t understand. Yeah, it’s nice… but you like everything else about him, too. You like how sweet he looks when he laughs. You like the way that he holds himself and the way that he looks when he puts his hands on his hips and stands around like he’s directing the traffic around him. You like how much of a prince charming he is, really. It would surprise you if he doesn’t win prom king at the end of the year. They already call him King Steve, it’s not too far of a stretch.

You close your locker just as Steve kisses Nancy, in front of god and everybody in the C Corridor hallway. Steve’s arms wrap around Nancy’s petite frame and he dips her, like they’re in some sort of George Peck and Audrey Hepburn movie. Not that the place is much of a cinematic setting, though. Down the hall, the science rooms are doing their dissection units, so the whole place smells like formaldehyde and disinfectant, and you sort of feel like curling up into one of those dissection pans and dying, yourself. 

That should be me, your brain screams. Me!!

It’s always been like this. You’ve had a crush on Steve since freshman year- the fact that he’s dating Nancy, who’s a year younger than him, doesn’t escape your jealous mind. You’ve been in classes with him for four years, you’ve admired him quietly, you’ve hoped and prayed that he somehow noticed you noticing him.

You don’t think he knows you exist. Four years- and now you’re both seniors, about to graduate, and he still doesn’t notice you. You should really stop caring, or stop trying, or stop… pining. Or something. 

You hike your bag up onto your shoulder and juggle your books in your arms. The bell rings, and quite suddenly the entire hallway erupts into pandemonium (predictable, sure, considering everyone loiters around instead of actually getting to class on time). Kids fly around you in all directions to get to their next classroom. Nancy Wheeler ducks away from Steve Harrington, avoiding yet another kiss.

God, you wish you could kiss him.

Someone slams into your shoulder from behind, muscling past you to get to science lab 5, rat central. Your binder slips out of the stack of books in your arms and clatters loudly to the ground, just as someone walks past and kicks it across the floor.

“Fuck,” you spit, chasing after it. The back of your neck feels hot. For the first time in four years, you hope to god that Steve Harrington doesn’t notice you. 

You duck around people’s legs, trying to grab at your binder, while not trying to drop any more of the books in your arms. Loose papers are starting to fall out of the binder as it skitters across the floor, and this is becoming more and more of a comedy of errors by the minute.

Your fingers just brush the corner of it before someone kicks it again. 

“Do you mind?” you snap as they walk away, not even looking in your direction. Crouched close to the floor, you don’t matter. Maybe you could count that as a blessing, considering you don’t want to be perceived right now.

You finally just throw away all dignity and crawl across the tile floor- disgusting and dirty and covered in sandy grit, as though it hasn’t been cleaned all year- to get to your binder. 

And you come face to face with a pair of white Nike’s. Ones that you know way too well, because you’ve stared at them every time they’ve passed you in the hallway. 

Nonononono- You clench your jaw and then look up, way up, to find Steve Harrington towering over you. 

He looks like he was about to just step around you, but then he notices you gazing up at him from all fours, and his hazel eyes lock on yours. You blink at each other for a second before he flushes, a pink blush breaking out on his cheeks and crawling up his neck, and he looks away quickly, but crouches down to grab your binder before your hand can land on it. 

“Sorry,” Steve says quietly, gathering up the couple papers that had started to slide out of the folders inside. You sit back on your heels, your blood rushing in your ears, mortified. His big hands gently poke the papers back into the folder as they should be before he hands it to you. “Looks like you’re gonna be late to class.”

You scoff. “Look who’s talking.”

Steve’s eyes find yours again, and he’s finally so close to you that you can admire the little bit of green in them. You’ve never been close enough to notice before.

He cracks a lopsided smile, one that he uses to charm people, you know- you’ve seen him use it on teachers and cute girls alike. “I’m always late to the party. But I get there, eventually.”

“I hope so.” He cocks his head at you. He doesn’t know the real meaning to your words- or, at least, you don’t think he does. 

I hope you don’t stay oblivious forever, Steve Harrington. I hope you get there, eventually.

You take your binder from him, but you pull your eyes away from his a bit later than you properly should. “Thanks, Steve.”

You get up and take off toward your next class, walking quickly so that you don’t come off like you’re lingering too long. But, halfway down the hall, you look over your shoulder at him.

Steve hasn’t moved, still crouched down close to the floor, with his head bent like he’s deep in thought. With his back to you, you can still see the pink flush on the back of his neck, peeking out above his collared shirt.

‘Cause I can see you, waiting down the hall from me, and I can see you up against the wall with me. What would you do? Baby, if you only knew that I can see you…

Hawkins High, April 1985

Prom season sucks. Always has, and always will. 

Maybe it was your fault for hoping that Logan Sawyer, popular prick extraordinaire, was serious about wanting to take you to prom. He seemed serious enough, stopping by your locker during passing period and leaning over you as he asked you, his mega-watt smile making you blush. You’d counted yourself lucky- you didn’t think anyone was going to ask you, and people aren’t allowed to go to prom stag.

It took Logan two weeks to find a prettier girl to go with, though. You don’t know why it hurts so much. Maybe it’s because you wanted to believe that you were someone’s first choice, but it never quite seems to turn out that way.

You wipe your tears in the mirror, scowling at your puffy, bloodshot eyes. The bathroom next to the girls’ locker room in the sports wing is completely deserted at this time- the boys’ gym class is in session now, and you’re cutting into your lunch time, but you really don’t want to have to go and cry at a lunch table, in front of a bunch of your bitchy peers, who will inevitably make fun of you for it.

Sniffling, but slightly more composed, you head out of the bathroom. The sports wing is ridiculously bigger than any other wing of the school (typical of American public schools, to prioritize sports over every other department). The wing boasts weight training rooms, dance rooms, three separate gymnasiums, and a door directly to the football field, with the locker rooms on the farthest end to allow for easy access to the field. Connecting all of these rooms is the longest corridor in the building, which seems to run for half a fucking mile.

You’ll have to walk that half mile, because in order to get to the cafeteria, you’re gonna have to traverse the entire building. You might not get to eat much today, but it was a sacrifice you were willing to make. Maybe Mrs. Marshall will be kind enough to let you snack on a granola bar in your next class period.

Halfway down the long hallway, you feel the angry sting of tears behind your eyes again, and your face screws up in frustration. You stop, turning halfway back toward the girls’ bathroom, wondering if you should just go back in and allow yourself to cry some more.

Suck it up, you think to yourself, smacking at your tear stained cheeks. He’s not the guy you really want to ask you to prom, anyways.

You press your fingertips into your eyes to relieve the sting of tears, taking a deep breath. Being in high school is driving you crazy. At this point in the year, the teachers have given up teaching, the students have given up learning, and you’re basically just biding your time in a glorified babysitting service until you can inevitably grab your diploma and get out of here. You can’t wait for that time to arrive. 

A door opens further down the hallway, in the direction of the cafeteria. You wipe your nose once and keep moving in the direction you were going, not wanting to draw attention to yourself, standing in the middle of the hallway having a breakdown.

Moving forwards, you keep your eyes on the ground. Once you hear the door that had been opened slam shut again, you figure that whoever it was has moved on down the hallway, and you lift your eyes again. 

They have not, in fact, moved on. And you suddenly have the urge to turn and fucking run back into the girls’ bathroom, because Steve Harrington is bent over at the drinking fountain, directly outside the boys’ weight room.

What the fuck, what the fuck. You suck on your teeth, trying not to falter in your stride. Maybe he hasn’t seen you, and you can just pass him up. It’s fine, he hasn’t seen you crying. 

Your mind backtracks to the beginning of the year, you fumbling your binder all the way across the hallway and ending up right in front of him, crawling toward him. Looking up at him and probably, most definitely, making him really uncomfortable.

You have English class together, where you sit at the desk closest to the door. He comes in late almost every day, so he passes by you every time. Some days he looks at your desk. On good days, he meets your eye. But he hasn’t spoken to you since that day in September, and you really shouldn’t hold out hope that he will. 

You definitely don’t want him to notice you when you’ve been crying, your face is a mess, your hair is limp and you look bedraggled. You just want to fade into the background of your next class with whatever snack you can get from the cafeteria snuck into your bag, so you can stress eat it without any guff from a teacher (like you aren’t 18 and capable of deciding when you are and aren’t allowed to eat).

You keep your eyes down. If you don’t look at him, he doesn’t exist.

Except, Steve Harrington always exists, in the back of your mind, and in your periphery. He is impossible not to notice, as per usual. He really just draws the eye like a magnet. Try as you might, your eyes keep flicking up to take stock of him. 

He’s wearing a uniform gray P.E. shirt and gym shorts that don’t leave a lot to the imagination, and you fixate on his thighs more than you should. He has sweat dripping down his neck, wetting his hair on the sides of his face and the seam of his shirt. It shouldn’t be attractive. He shouldn’t be attractive. With his face a mess. And his hair limp, and looking bedraggled. Truly, you make a priceless pair, being the only two people in the hallway.

We’re perfect for each other, a voice says in your head. And you manage, for the first time in an hour, to crack a smile down at your shoes.

He finishes getting his drink at the fountain, and you figure that he’ll just go back into the weight room and not see you. But, of course, luck is not on your side.

Steve Harrington looks at you. And you look away, quickly, acting like you hadn’t been staring at him. And in your periphery, again, you see him stretch his arms over his head, and then turn and lean against the cinderblock wall beside the door to the weight room, with his hands on his knees as though he’s catching his breath.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

He does it so casually, and with the way he’s sweating and his face is flushed, you’re sure that he probably does just want to take a break before going in and lifting more weights. But something in the back of your mind says that the maneuver was too purposeful, immediately after he laid eyes on you. 

It could just be wishful thinking on your part. You heard through the grapevine that Steve and Nancy Wheeler broke up in a nasty way just before winter break, and it doesn’t seem like he’s been interested in anyone since. He hasn’t dated anyone, hasn’t flirted with any girls or showed up at any parties. Nancy must have really broken his heart.

You know too well what that feels like, right now.

Nearing where he leans against the wall, you keep your head down and you plan on just passing by without any acknowledgement from him, same as it ever was. If he’s still carrying a torch for Nancy, you’re sure that he doesn’t want anything to do with you. You’ve nearly convinced yourself of it.

But then you hear your name called quietly, and it nearly makes you jump. You look over at him, thinking you’re just hearing things, but you look directly into a pair of hazel eyes again, and you feel yourself rocketing back in time to September.

You didn’t even think he knew your name.

You slow to a stop. It would be rude not to stop, right? “Uh… hi, Steve. You good?”

Steve Harrington looks you up and down, while he leans against the wall and breathes a bit heavily, like he’s out of breath. He peers at you through long eyelashes, looking impossibly inviting despite everything; the setting, your appearances, the way that you feel like dissolving into a puddle right in front of him. “Yeah, great. You?”

He’s scrutinizing your face now. You shrug, since he’s already seen you, and there’s no way to pretend you weren’t crying thirty seconds ago. “I’m fine. Just being dramatic, don’t worry about me.” 

“When people say not to worry about them, it usually means that you should,” Steve muses. He looks coy, like he’s speaking from experience. 

You sigh, stepping forward to get your own drink from the drinking fountain. “Logan Sawyer called off our date for prom.”

“Oh.” Steve pauses for a few seconds, watching as you bend down and take your drink, more silent than he usually is. “I mean… that really sucks. I’m sorry. But… Logan Sawyer?”  

“Yeah.” You wipe your mouth, and then wet the ends of your fingers and use the cool water to rub at your stinging eyes again. When you’re done, you lean up against the wall beside him, letting your back settle into the cinderblock.

“The guy’s a fucking douche.”

“Tell me about it.”

“No, I mean it, I think it’s a good thing you’re not going to prom with him. He’s really shitty to girls.” You look up at Steve, who’s watching you with his arms crossed, with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen him wear. “I mean, the only guy worse than Logan is probably… I dunno…”

“Billy Hargrove?” 

Steve laughs. Actually laughs. You’ve wanted to make him laugh like that for four years. His cheeks turn crimson and he grins down at his shoes, snickering like there’s way more to the joke he’s laughing at than you even know about. “Yeah. Yeah, he’s gotta be the worst.”

You chuckle, albeit with a sadder tone than he has. “Well, I’m not going to prom with either of them. So, I can count my blessings. I guess.”

Steve frowns, and he looks like he’s going to say something else, but you’re already turning away, not wanting to continue the depressing conversation about your lack of dates. Especially not from the one guy who you desperately want to go on a date with.

You get a few steps away before he takes a step after you, saying, “Wait. You, uh-”

You stop, and look back at him. He looks dumbfounded, his arm outstretched like he was going to try to grab you if you didn’t listen to him. When you frown, he steps back against the wall, bringing his hand up to run through his hair. 

Oh . That’s a nervous tick. You know it, because you’ve watched him do it more than once in English, in front of the class during a presentation.

Steve looks down at his shoes, his brow scrunched in thought. He looks like he’s really trying to find the right words to say. In your head, a hopeful part of you imagines what those words could be. ‘Will you go to prom with me?’

Finally, he looks up at you resolutely. “You’ll find someone to take you to prom. I’m sure of it.” He nods a little, like he’s reassuring himself that he said the right thing. 

You can’t help the smile that springs onto your face. It’s incredulous, of course, but he can’t know that. Keep trying, baby. You’ll get there, eventually.

“Thanks, Steve.” It’s the second time you thank him in the course of the year.

But what would you do if I went to touch you now? What would you do if they never found us out? What would you do if we never made a sound?

Prom Night, May 1985

The dress you’re wearing is sleek and a lot simpler than some of the more popular styles on the dance floor, but you like it more than you care to admit. You’d just grabbed it off the rack at Macy’s, and beyond that you didn’t want to go all-out for prom. It turns out that your lab partner, Gavin Connelly, needed a date, too. So, you’re here with him, because you knew that if you missed prom, you would probably regret it.

Except, well.

Gavin, stoned out of his fucking mind, is sitting at one of the tables, nursing a cup of punch, looking like he’s two seconds from falling asleep. You’ve taken to making the rounds and saying hi to anyone you can call a ‘friend,’ because you’re tired of just loitering next to him. Something tells you he didn’t want to even be here.

The speakers are playing ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart,’ and couples are swaying on the dance floor in a Bonnie Tyler-induced haze. At a loss for people to bother, you wander back over to your date to find his head plastered to the white table cloth. 

You glance to the guy sitting next to him, a kid with glasses who you don’t recognize but who seems to know your date, because he’s just patting Gavin’s back. “Is he okay?”

“Oh, no, he’s dying.” The kid shoots you a sarcastic smile. 

You nod, pressing your tongue hard to the roof of your mouth. “Well, if he wakes up, tell him I’m getting some air.”

Fuck this. Fuck prom. Fuck high school boys.

Your heels, which are killing your feet already, click loudly on the tile hallway floor as you exit the gym. The table where you can check your bag and coat are located at the other end of the hall, where everyone is supposed to enter through the door to the football field.

You can hear voices from the far end of the hall, and Bonnie Tyler’s voice fading out the further you get from the gym. You might never be able to hear that song again without thinking of your ruined slow dance opportunity.

As you pass by, someone coughs off to the left and you turn your head to see Steve Harrington, black tie and all, loitering in the shadows. You stop a few feet from him and squint into the dark.

You can’t believe it. He always seems to show up at the worst times. “What are you doing, skulking around?” 

“I’m not sulking.”

You snort, stepping into the shadows with him. “No, skulk- like, sneaking around?” 

“Well, I didn’t mean to sneak-” he looks over his shoulder at the gym entrance. “I’m just getting some air.”

“Funny,” you murmur. “I was just about to do the same thing.”

He eyes you, a lot like he did a few weeks ago in this same hallway, further up toward the other end of it. He takes in your hair, styled painstakingly to ‘perfection,’ or as close as you could approximate it, and your off-the-rack department store dress. You suddenly feel like you aren’t as pretty as you thought you were at the beginning of the night. 

But then he meets your eye, and all those insecurities fade into the back of your mind. He’s smiling at you, and that can only be a good thing.

“So, uh…” Steve leans back against the wall, his hands in his pockets, “You found someone to take you?”

You press your lips into a tight line. You don’t really want to think about your date right now, but- “Gavin Connelly.”

“Who?”

You laugh, kicking the heel of your shoe against the ground with a soft clack. “Yeah. God, I wish I didn’t know him right now.”

“Why, what’d he do?” Steve sounds perturbed. You look up to find him scowling already.

“Oh, he just ate a pot brownie before he picked me up and passed out at one of the tables.” You finish with a tired giggle, shrugging at Steve as he peers at you with an annoyed expression. “Who did you bring?”

“Kelly Palmer.” 

You know Kelly. She doesn’t say much, but she’s gotten a scholarship to a big art school. “Do you like her?”

“Yeah, she’s nice,” he says mildly. Unconvincingly.

You can understand the subtext. She’s not Nancy. When you look at his face, he seems tortured in the low light coming from down the hall.

“Guess I’m oh-for-two,” Steve adds after a pause. “Last year’s prom, Nance and I didn’t have such a good time, either.”

You nod. It seems like there’s more he wants to say, but he doesn’t. “I’m sorry,” you offer. You don’t know the ins-and-outs of Steve and Nancy’s relationship, aside from watching them suck face in the hallway five paces from you for a year and a half. “Prom sucks. High school sucks. These can’t be the best years of our lives, trust me.”

“Yeah, I hope not.” 

“I just can’t wait to get out of here, you know,” you grumble, allowing your sour mood to come out a little more than normal. It seems like Steve is just really good at getting you to let your guard down. “I’m planning to go to Chicago for college. This is all just… you know, it’s just the starting point. What about you, any big plans?”

“Dunno. I didn’t get accepted to any schools, so I’ll just be getting a job here in town until something better comes along.” Steve shifts, his heel hitting the wall behind him. He looks disappointed when he says, “I think I made too many mistakes.” 

You frown, chewing on your lip. “What do you mean?”

He gives you a heavy look, like he’s gearing up to say something important, something game changing- and then his gaze softens. 

“You’ve got an eyelash.” He gestures to his own eye, like it’ll make you understand exactly where the loose one is on your face.

“Oh.” You falter, lifting your manicured hands and wiping at your undereyes. “Did I get it?”

“No, uh- here, I can-” Steve tentatively reaches forward, and you step toward him to let him touch your face. 

Steve Harrington is touching your face.  

His fingertip brushes your cheekbone, so featherlight you would barely feel it if you weren’t hyper aware of everything that he said or did. His touch glides across your cheek and toward your temple, and then he seems to keep it there, his hand hovering just over your skin.

Reflexively, your hand comes up to rest on his shoulder. You’re inches from Steve’s face, your eyes falling to his lips.

You could kiss him. You could live your fantasy, right now.

Steve’s gaze lingers on your face for a moment, and then he says, “You’re so beautiful.”

Your heart lurches in your chest. He doesn’t say that you look beautiful. He doesn’t say it conditionally, like it’s just for tonight. You are beautiful. Even when you’re crawling on all fours after your binder. Even when you’re crying, and your hair is limp, and you look bedraggled.

“Steve…” you whisper, inching closer to him. 

“STEVE??!”

You jump away from him like he’s burned you, and peek around the hall corner to see Kelly Palmer standing outside the gym looking up and down the hall, searching for him. She looks lost, and sad, like he must have ditched.

She looks an awful lot like you just did, coming out of that gym.

You feel Steve’s hand where it had fallen to your wrist, dragging your attention gently back to him. You take his hand and squeeze it once, giving him a tight smile. 

“You brought her here for a good time,” you say with your bravest smile. “Just don’t pass out at one of the tables on her, okay?”

Don’t be a douche. Don’t be like Logan Sawyer. 

Steve swallows, and gives you a short nod. You think he finally got there.

You give a soft pat to the lapel of his suit jacket. “Go get ‘em, tiger.” 

He touches your arm one final time before he slips around the corner, just as Kelly turns to go back into the gym. You watch him walk away, and you think to yourself, That’s the last time I chase after Steve Harrington.

Wherever there is, it’s not with you.

Steve loops his arms around Kelly’s waist and lifts her, earning a thrilled squeal as the silver taffeta of her dress glints blue in the light from the gym. You wait until they’ve disappeared back into it before you turn and high-tail it toward the coat check table.

And we kept everything professional, but something’s changed, it’s something I like. They keep watchful eyes on us, so it’s best if we move fast and keep quiet…

Starcourt Mall, June 1985

“Come on, it’s ridiculously hot outside,” your best friend, Shelly, groans as she pulls you along by the wrist. “I can’t believe they only have one ice cream place here.”

“I’m sure they have slushies at the-”

“Ice. Cream.” You know better than to argue with her.

Scoops Ahoy has a novelty nautical theme that makes you want to both laugh and break down in tears when you see it. The PA is playing a cutesy rendition of Drunken Sailor on accordion, and you think that if you keep looking at the striped wallpaper behind the counter, you might get literally seasick. In the mall. In landlocked Indiana. 

Or… is it landlocked if it fronts Lake Michigan? It doesn’t matter. You’ll be in Chicago in two days, anyways.

You let Shelly drag you along until you look towards the front counter, and you see something that nearly makes you trip and face plant into Shelly’s fresh perm.

Even Shelly pauses. “Is that who I think it is?”

It’s something about the stupid little sailor’s cap and shorts, and that he’s so, so pretty in it, you think. It’s also something about how you have the perfect vantage point to watch him try and fail to flirt with the girl that approaches the counter to order. You’re enamored with him. There’s no other way to describe it. 

You have half a mind to run away, after what you promised yourself on prom night over a month ago. You’d done good, you didn’t search for him in the halls, you ignored him in your last couple of class periods with him. You’d even been in the bathroom when his name was called at graduation. 

But, here he is. Steve Harrington, absolutely obliterating his chances of getting a date with the girl ordering a sundae ahead of you. 

Honestly, you don’t know what you’re waiting for. Maybe an invitation? A sign from god that today’s the day that you’ll make a move? Or maybe this is just a test of will.

You stop resisting Shelly’s attempts to drag you along, and straighten your spine. You can do this. Four years’ worth of pining won’t make a difference in whether or not you order a strawberry ice cream cone.

He’s even prettier up close, his rosy cheeks framed by sunkissed, wavy hair. When he sees you he stalls, going a bit wide-eyed and then seeming to realize he’s supposed to do his job. He leans heavily against the counter. “Ahoy, ladies! Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your captain, Steve Harrington.”

“Uh-huh.” You stare at each other for a long moment. “How much do they pay you to recite that script?”

“Absolutely nothing, I do this for pure enjoyment.” You’re almost sure that he doesn’t. He pauses, a hand poised on his hip. “Too much?”

“I’d dial it back just a smidge. Maybe keep the ahoy and the captain thing and toss the rest.” 

“Noted.” He nods slowly, his eyes fixed on you. “I thought you were going to Chicago?”

“I leave the day after tomorrow,” you shrug. “Still time for me to burn the place down, you know.”

“Well, I’m glad you stopped by,” Steve chuckles. “I could show you where the gas line is, then we’d all be in trouble.”

“Oookay.” Shelly gives you a curious side-eye, and then turns back to Steve. “Well, I’ll have a U.S.S. Butterscotch with a chocolate dipped waffle bowl, if you don’t mind.”

Steve tears his eyes away from you long enough to grin at Shelly. “Coming right up. And for you?”

You freeze, glancing up at the menu. It’s written in an infuriatingly cutesy code-language that you have to decipher. “Um. I’m still deciding.”

“All right, then. Just let me know, when you’re ready.” 

Steve slips away to make Shelly her sundae, a heaping pile of ice cream and butterscotch syrup that looks like the fast track to a heart attack. You alternate between trying to comprehend the menu and being distracted by Steve in that stupid sailor’s uniform.

The script on the menu may as well be written in a foreign language. Blackbeard’s Delight. Treasure Island Turtle. U.S.S. Sherbet. The sizes are even harder to understand. Fathom. League. Nautical Mile. You don’t have the capacity to decipher it- your eyes are seeing the words, but your mind is traveling back to prom night, and feeling Steve’s finger on your cheek as you gear up to kiss him.

“Are you ready?”

“Mhm…” It takes you a second to zone back into the present moment, where Steve is standing in front of you, on the other side of the counter, waiting to take your order. He waits, with a patient smile on his face, while you blink dumbly at him.

What did you say? What did he say?

“I… um.” You’re sure you look completely out of it. Your eyes flick nervously up at the menu, that you still can’t fucking read. Shelly’s already gone to sit down with her sundae, the traitor.

“It’s kind of hard to understand, isn’t it?” Steve says quietly after a moment, dropping the phony customer service charade. “I hate it. I think we should just be able to say what our favorite ice cream flavor is and be done with it.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, still squinting up at the menu. Blackbeard’s Delight: blackberry swirl with blueberry syrup and a gold doubloon. “The fuck is a doubloon?”

Steve snorts, and reaches under the counter before bringing back a handful of gold foil-covered chocolate coins, which he dumps into your outstretched hand. “You want more? We get them wholesale.”

“I’m good,” you giggle, juggling the chocolate coins before they go cascading to the floor. “I think… I don’t… I don’t understand a thing on that menu.”

“What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?” He leans forward to ask you, like it's a secret. Just between the two of you. His head bent a little to peer at you closely, so close that you can count the freckles on his skin.

You glance over your shoulder. Shelly is seated by the far wall, under a painting of a kraken, giving you an indignant look. When she notices you looking, she mouths an emphatic, ‘LET’S GO!’

“Don’t tell anyone,” you whisper, and Steve affects his gravest expression as he nods. “Strawberry.” 

“A classic,” he grins. “Fan of sprinkles?” 

“I can dig a few sprinkles.”

“Perfect. I think we have something up your alley.” He grabs a scooper out of the bin and twirls it once, just to show off. “Sex on the Beach.” 

“What?” You don’t remember seeing anything about that on the menu.

He glances up to smirk at you before shrugging. “It’s strawberry ice cream with peach syrup. You’ll see.”

You keep an eye on his hands behind the glass partition, watching them put two scoops of strawberry into a medium sized carton. Completely unable to rein in your thoughts before they get away from you, you’re thinking about how good they would feel under your shirt. You follow a treasure map of freckles trailing up his arms, disappearing under the blue sailor’s shirt he wears. You want to kiss every single one of them.

You finally reply, “I guess I have to put my faith in your professional ice cream slinging abilities.” 

“Oh, haven’t you heard?” Steve mutters sardonically as he squirts peach syrup across the two scoops of ice cream, giving it a golden sheen. “I’m the king of cream.”

You purse your lips as it takes Steve a second to realize what he just said. When he does, he snaps his head up to meet your eye in horror. 

He opens his mouth to take it back, but you shake your head, holding back laughter. “Don’t ruin it.”

“I think it’s pretty much ruined already.” He turns crimson, blushing down at the half-made sundae as he rapidly shakes yellow sprinkles onto it. “I was doing so good, too.”

“Who says you aren’t still?” You give him a cute smile when he looks up through his lashes at you, still arranging toppings on the sundae. You’re not sure what happened between prom and now to change him so much, but it’s almost as if he’s… goofy. He’s less concerned with appearances, he’s more laid back and willing to make fun of himself. 

You like it a lot. 

You watch him plop two maraschinos onto one ice cream mound, and wedge a candied orange slice into the other, inverted, to look like a setting sun. As he passes it over the counter to you, he says, “Here you go, one Sex on the Beach. On the house.”

“What? No, I couldn’t-”

“I mean it. For overlooking my stupidity,” Steve insists. He gives you a meaningful look when he adds, “A million times over.”

“I’m not overlooking anything when it comes to you, Steve,” you tell him fondly, and drop one of the doubloons into the tip jar. It’s gaudy, gleaming artificially gold in the middle of the crumpled up dollar bills. “Hang onto that. You might be able to cash it in for a kiss someday.”

Steve blinks rapidly, leaning across the counter as you walk away. “After you come back from Chicago, right?”

You look over your shoulder, and you wink at him.

When you finally stop in front of Shelly, and you use your plastic spoon to dig into the adorable sundae that Steve crafted for you, you remember that you’d gone up to the counter with every intention of ignoring Steve and acting like you didn’t even know him.

You winked at Steve Harrington. You said you’d kiss him. You think back to the girl who was so afraid of Steve even noticing her, almost a year ago, and wonder where she went.

You look down at Shelly. She’d graduated a year before you, so she wasn’t there to witness every blunderous interaction you’d had with Steve in school. You never told her how in love you were with him.

Now, she looks up at you coyly. “So. Steve Harrington, huh?”

“Shut up,” you grunt, looking up and out at the food court outside of the Scoops Ahoy storefront. “As if you know everything.”

“Are you gonna try to make something out of that…” she gestures vaguely with her spoon toward the counter, “before school starts?” 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you say honestly, still poking at your sundae. “Anyways, I leave too soon for anything to really happen. What- I screw him tomorrow and then fuck off forever? It’s just wishful thinking, probably.” You finally take a bite of the ice cream, just to punctuate your sentence.

“Hm. Probably. How is that?” Shelly nods at the ice cream in your hand. “Looks pretty.”

“It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” You’re being honest. Something about the peach syrup with the strawberry base literally evokes the flavor of a sunset. “They should give him a raise.”

Humming, Shelly stands and takes her half-eaten sundae. She nudges you in the direction of the door. “C’mon. We’ve gotta eat these before the next showing of The Breakfast Club.”

Steve watches you and your friend leave, with the wistful gaze of someone who just watched their greatest opportunity walk away from them. He never knew that it was possible to hate an entire geographic location, but he really wishes Chicago would get blown off the map in the next 24 hours. 

The wooden partition doors slam open, and Robin’s head appears in the window to the kitchen. “The cream king? Do you want me to actually hurl?”

“I said, ‘the king of cream,’” he groans, digging his knuckles into his eye sockets. “Kill me, Robin. Load me into the freezer. Bury me at the fairground.”

“You think you’re valuable enough to displace that much ice cream?” Robin rolls her eyes, and with another loud thwack, her white board appears in the space behind her. “We don’t make anything called Sex on the Beach. This is a family establishment.”

“I made it up.” 

Robin coos, “Aww. Be still my heart. You love her to the point of invention.” 

Steve whirls around. “Love? Who said anything about love?” 

“I did.” Robin uncaps her dry-erase marker and draws a tally mark under the side that reads, you rule.

“Uh, Robin,” Steve snaps, pointing at the board condescendingly. “I think you put that on the wrong side. I fucked it up.”

“Dingus. Please. As much as it makes me gag- and you know I gain immense pleasure from counting how often you screw up- I could practically hear her heart eyes.” She sets the white board down, begrudgingly. “I think you found the only girl alive who’ll find all this-” she waves her hand at him, “endearing. Who was she? Some ex of yours?” 

“If only,” Steve sighs, shaking his head. When he turns back to the counter, his eyes land on the single chocolate coin glinting in the tip jar.

He scoops it up with two fingers and pockets it.

You won’t believe half the things I see inside my head. Wait ‘til you see half the things that haven’t happened yet…

Family Video, March 1986

The air conditioning nearly blasts you backwards into the parking lot. You don’t know why they need it blasting so hard at 7pm, in the middle of March. It’s not like it’s the height of summer- your spring break takes place earlier than the local school’s, but it just means that you get to beat the crowds when you come home to visit your family.

Of course, they love to send you to run errands. You end up picking up the groceries, and the housewares, and, on this occasion, the choices for family movie night. 

This Family Video’s selection isn’t necessarily as extensive as the ones in Chicago, but it’s good enough. You enter the store, and it dumps you directly in front of a cardboard cutout of Phoebe Cates about to flash you. Family friendly entertainment, and all.

The TV in the corner is running the final scene of The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly- Ennio Morricone’s score plays dramatically into the empty store. There’s no one behind the counter currently, so you pull the list of videos your extended family members had all requested. The Breakfast Club. Camelot. The Birds. Pretty general selections for your family, but it seems like you’ll have to hunt them up on your own. 

You’re wandering down the romance aisle, since The Breakfast Club was nowhere on the new releases or comedy shelves, when someone finally emerges from the back room. You see a flash of a head moving toward the front counter from over the top of a rack, and you take it as your chance to ask for help.

“Excuse me? Do you guys have any copies of The Breakfast Club, or-”

You stop short, choking on your words. Steve Harrington turns around to look at you, carrying a stack of VHS tapes perched under his chin, and holding a folded up piece of paper between his teeth.

You stare each other down for a second, before Steve gracefully spits the paper over his shoulder and onto the counter. “Hey, um… long time, no see?”

“I’d say.” You tilt your head. Funny how quickly your eyes will hone in on his lips, like searching for a target every time. “We always seem to run into each other like this. What happened to the ice cream gig?”

“Starcourt burned down,” Steve says, plopping the stack of VHS tapes down on the counter beside the paper he spit out. “Right around the Fourth of July, last summer.”

“So, right after I last saw you?”

Steve smirks to himself before he turns back to you. “Yeah. Like, a week or so after. Did you manage to burn the place down, after all?” 

“I wish.” 

You pause, taking the time to size him up. It’s amazing what the better part of a year will do to someone, inside and out. With a striped shirt and green vest, he looks much more relaxed and casual than he had at Scoops Ahoy. His hair’s a little longer, his eyes a little darker as they rake over you, in return. 

You’re a little bit desperate to see what’s going on in his head, if it’s anything like what’s happening in yours.

You wish you could say that you tried to seek him out when you got back to town- a year ago, maybe you would have. But you’d pretty much given up on the idea of him, moving up to dating college boys who don’t string you along, who don’t wait until the last minute to finally try their hand at flirting with you. If he ever passed through your mind, it was with the attached hope that he’d found greener pastures than Hawkins, Indiana. Foolishly, you hoped that as long as you told yourself that he’d moved on, it would be true. And then maybe what could have been wouldn’t matter anymore.

You’d stepped back into Hawkins after half a year of college, the graveyard of all hope in your happily ever after, and you hadn’t even thought of Steve Harrington. Except, seeing him now, everything comes flooding back. All the days spent pining over him. All the close brushes you’d had with finally getting the ending you wanted. 

You have to be honest. “You look good, Steve. You always do.”

Steve chuckles, tilting his chin down as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his light wash jeans. “Better without the sailor costume, right?”

“Aww, I liked the sailor costume.” You step closer so you can whisper, “I thought it was sexy.”

Steve peers down his nose at you, drawing himself up to tower above you at his full height. He tries to look unaffected, but you can see his ears glowing pink beneath wisps of golden highlights. “Watch it. You’re gonna give me an ego.”

“We don’t want that, do we?” You unfold the list of movies you’re here to collect, holding it up to him between two fingers. “Got any of these movies?” 

Steve reads the short list, and nods to himself. “I know we have Camelot, but I’m not sure about The Breakfast Club. Let me check in the back?” 

“I’ll be here.”

“All right- don’t get up to any trouble, though. I’ve got my eye on you.” He points at you coolly, feigning an authoritative expression. He tries to hide his smile, but the creases around his eyes give him away. 

“I hope you do.” You try to appear casual as you breeze past him, but you have to fiddle with your jacket collar to hide their shaking. Still, you feel the sweep of his gaze on you like rays of sun on your skin. It frightens you how easily you can fall back into the old back-and-forth routine you established in high school- how he gets you to say things you never meant to voice, but that live in your head effortlessly. 

Steve watches you disappear down the drama aisle before he takes in a huge breath of air and bolts toward the back room. Any and all coolness he was performing disappears like so much smoke. Slamming open the door, he nearly shouts, “Do you have a doubloon?!” 

Robin startles, swinging around in her seat, looking away from her computer screen. “A what? Why are you yelling?”

“A doubloon, a f-fucking-” Steve looks quickly over his shoulder, out the door, and starts hunching over as he whispers, “a chocolate coin. Like one of those ones we had at Scoops, remember?”

“Why do you want a chocolate coin?” Robin squints at him. “Stop crouching like that, you look like Nosferatu.”

Steve hisses through his teeth, and he’s got a frantic edge to his expression that Robin doesn’t like. “Okay- remember that girl, the one who showed up at Scoops that time, and you gave me my one and only ‘You Rule’ tally?” 

“No.”

“Great. Well, she’s here, and she told me if I gave her one of those chocolate coins she’d kiss me.” Steve shoves his hands through his hair, mussing up the already disheveled style. “Please, Rob, I can’t let her get away again. I’ve done it, like, a thousand times already.” 

“Okay, Romeo,” Robin humors him, turning around in her seat. “So you’re saying this babe, who I very much don’t remember because you always struck out while we worked at Scoops, told you that if you bribed her with chocolate she’d kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t think she was maybe joking?” 

Steve opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water. Truthfully, he hadn’t. He’d overlooked the idea that, after everything that had happened between you, you might just be joking about kissing him. 

“You know you could use your actual charm to get a girl to kiss you?” Robin dips her chin, shaking her head like it’s obvious.

Steve frowns. As if he hasn’t already tried that. “Do you have any chocolate coins or not?”

Robin sighs exasperatedly. “I don’t think I’ve seen one of those things since we worked at Scoops. Sorry, bud. You’re out of luck.” 

“FUCK!” Steve’s hand smacks the door as he heads out of the back room, making Robin scowl after him. She shakes her head as she turns back to her work.

Back out on the sales floor, the credits to The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly have finished, and white noise fills the empty space. Steve turns in a circle by the checkout counter, searching for you among the aisles.

Where did you disappear to, this time? A part of him dreads the answer. He was the one who fucked everything up- he shouldn’t have chickened out when he had the chance. He should have asked you to that fucking prom, but he was too scared to commit after what happened with Nancy. 

If this is his last chance, he needs to make it count. 

He coughs into the dead air, and says, “Looks like we’re all out of The Breakfast Club.” There’s a disconcerting amount of silence that leaves him cold, almost certain that you’ve left already, for the last time.

Then, you appear from behind the red curtain to the adult videos section.

Oh.  

“Everything okay?” you ask sweetly as you approach, holding a couple tapes that you must have picked up while you shopped around. “I heard some yelling back there.” 

“Oh, yeah. Just, uh… shelving issues.” Steve backs his way behind the counter. He repeats, “Sorry, I couldn’t find the movie for you.”

“I heard. I’m not worried about it.” You plop the tapes that you did find on the counter. “It was nice of you to look for me. Thanks, Steve.”

“Always.” Steve starts scanning your tapes; it looks like you managed to find the other films on your list, along with one for yourself. From the adult section. 

You watch in amusement as you can see the cogs visibly turning in Steve’s head, while he stares at the front of the porn video you picked. Spring Break Sex Party II. Not that you’d ever seen the first one, but the cover of this one was suggestive enough- a bunch of drunk people naked on a beach, lying in a great big pile. Looks like fun, in your opinion.

You always love seeing Steve blush. The prettiest shade of pink colors his cheeks before he glances up at you. “Should I ask…?”

“It’s the closest thing to getting a Sex on the Beach, here.” 

Steve chokes, and he scrambles for a response to that. “I- I was gonna ask for an I.D.”

“You know we’re the same age,” you deadpan.

“Y-yeah. I, uh- I know… I know that.” He hangs his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyes tightly shut.

You wonder if this is what you looked like to him, that time in the hallway when he loitered by the fountain to talk to you. “Breathe, Steve.”

A blast of laughter leaves his mouth before he can swallow it. If only you knew how hard it actually is, to act like he’s not just fucking melting right in front of you. When he hangs on every word you say, and every other thought he has is about how badly he wants to tell Robin to get lost and take you in the back room. You don’t know how much he’s fixating on your curves and how they’d feel against him, how much he wants to taste every inch of your body. He’s practically vibrating in place with all his pent up frustration, and you’re here buying porn, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Steve clears his throat, shakes his head. Christ. “Okay, well. You know that this is a sale item, it’s not for rent. You can return it within 10 days as long as the packaging hasn’t been opened.”

“I know.”

“Okay.” He’s still nodding as he puts it into the bag with the rest of your rentals. 

“Are you always this affected by people buying from the adult section?” you ask mildly. 

“Nah, usually I don’t care,” he replies without thinking. 

“Good to know that you care about my taste in pornography,” you tell him with the most shit eating grin on your face, taking the bag from him. “I’m flattered.”

He makes a clumsy noise in the back of his throat, somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. He’s right back to working at Scoops Ahoy, fumbling every attempt at flirting, losing his cool at the sight of a pretty girl. It’s… humbling.

He’s sure Robin would say that he can always use more humility.

“It was good to see you again, Steve.” And just like that, you’re sand slipping through the cracks in his fingers. 

Desperately, he tries to block the flow, closing his fingers around you in an attempt to keep you in his grasp. “Do you- uh-” He lurches forward, white-knuckling the counter like his life depends on it. You turn back towards him, an eyebrow raised at his sudden outburst. 

You’re back in the school hallway, senior year. Crying over Logan Sawyer. Harrington is up against the wall by the drinking fountain. You want him to just say the words and ask you to prom.

“I mean… if you have the time, while you’re in town… do you want to go for a cup of coffee? With me?”

“Oh, Steve.” You sigh, and it’s the most heartbreaking noise he’s ever heard in his life. Soft sand, falling through his fingers, disappearing back the way you came. He already dreads your answer before it comes. “I wish… you know, if I had come in here and met you about a week ago, I would have said yes in a heartbeat. But I have to catch the train back to Chicago tomorrow. My break’s almost up.” You offer him a reassuring smile. “I’m just glad that you didn’t completely miss me, at least.”

“Right, of course.” Steve smiles back at you, feeling more like an idiot the longer this drags on. He’s like Sisyphus rolling that rock up the fucking hill. “I… I’m glad I got to see you, too. Maybe next time.” 

Oh, it hurts. It hurts way more than you thought it would, to have to turn Steve down- after all the years pining for him through high school, after the time you turned him away when he would have kissed you. You think about kissing him, now. He would let you do it- he’s asking you out, and he looks so sad that you’re saying no.

You could. But wouldn’t it make saying goodbye this time even harder than it already is?

“Yeah. Maybe next time,” you tell him. You don’t want this to hurt more than it does. You truly hope there’s a next time, another year down the line when you run into him over winter break. Maybe you’ll find him at the Radio Shack. 

Steve watches you leave, once again. Fumbling his chance, again. When the door swings shut behind you, Steve bends at the waist and drops his head against the countertop. 

Typical Harrington. Late to the party, miss the girl.

“Well. That was… really painful to listen to.” Robin emerges from behind one of the shelves, crossing her arms. Gently, she adds, “On the bright side, I don’t think the chocolate coin would have mattered.”

Steve picks his head up, and he thwacks his forehead back down onto the counter.

And again.

And again.

And I can see you being my addiction, you can see me as a secret mission. Hide away, and I will start behaving myself…

Sur La Table Restaurant, Chicago, April 1991

You shake your umbrella out as you step into the warm foyer of, quite possibly, the most upscale restaurant you’ve ever set foot in. The carpet is deep, blood red, the walls a dark chestnut wood. The white covered tables are each spotlit within the otherwise dark dining room, and the atmosphere is flavored by soft piano and the quiet din of hushed voices. 

You had been hesitant to accept Theo’s invitation to dinner- he seemed too stuck up for your taste, but when Shelly introduced you to him, you had to admit that the name of the restaurant piqued your interest. Sur La Table. Chicago’s premiere Michelin Star restaurant. 

As you hand your umbrella over to the coat check clerk, you’re greeted by a smiling hostess. “What’s the name for the reservation?”

“Um… Theo Bowman. I believe he’s already here?”

“Yes, ma’am. Right this way.” 

Theo stands as you’re shown to the table. Tall, with dark hair and a wide smile, he reminds you of someone you knew once, but you just can’t seem to place it. Then, when he towers over you to shake your hand, standing far closer than necessary, you’re able to pick it out from the recesses of your mind.

Logan Sawyer.  

“You look nice,” Theo says pleasantly, and you chalk up your initial comparison to nerves, on your part. You don’t often let friends set you up on dates, so you’re a little bit out of your element as it is.

As you go to sit down, you admit, “I was so glad when you picked this place, I’ve always wanted to eat here, since I moved to Chicago.” 

“It’s not the nicest place I’ve been,” Theo shrugs, taking the seat across from you.

Your smile falters, for a second. “Oh, no?” The water has already been brought to the table, you guess while he was waiting for you. You take a long drink.

“Nah, I’ve been to Le Bernardin, in New York. That’s fine dining.” Theo waves his hand at the upscale dining room. “This is… okay.”

“I see.” You lift your menu, hoping that he’ll do the same.

“Yeah, New York is so much nicer than Chicago, in my opinion,” Theo continues, fiddling with his napkin as he talks. “There’s a lot more to do. Have you ever been?”

You hope this is just his nerves talking. “No.” 

Theo keeps talking as you stare at the menu in front of you, at a loss. It’s an a la carte menu, clearly, but extensive and all in french. Salade de poires pochées. Coquilles Saint-Jacques Gratineés. Filet au poivre vert. You’re scrutinizing the fine print of what all the dishes include when your waiter steps up to the table. You know when it happens, because Theo finally stops blathering about New York. 

You break your eyes away from the menu to glance at the server’s waistline, at eye level with you. He wears a crisply pressed suit and tie, his hands clasped in front of his belt. 

“Good evening sir, ma’am,” the server says in a hushed tone, to keep the volume of the dining room down. “Welcome to Sur La Table. I’m Steven, I’ll be serving you this evening. Before we begin, are there any questions about the menu?”

You peer up into the darkness to try to see Steven’s face. He’s standing just outside of the spotlight over the table, only able to be dimly lit from the indirect light reflecting from the tablecloth. Once your eyes adjust, they lock onto a pair of familiar hazel ones.

Oh my fucking god.

It’s got to be fate, or kismet, or some force of nature that keeps bringing you together like this. Steve Harrington’s face hasn’t changed in five years. Maybe he looks just slightly older, a little more filled out in his suit and tie. His hair is a bit shorter at the back but still that same shade of golden brown, neatly groomed and tidy for the formal atmosphere- but you can see it being tousled on his off days, still flopping across his eyes in waves. And those are the same lips you dreamt about kissing, the same eyes you admired in the school hallway, the same nose that you always wanted to grind o-

“No, I think we’re ready to order,” Theo announces, louder than necessary. You throw your gaze at him, your eyebrows raising despite your best efforts to remain calm. 

Is he really going to order for you? Just like that?

“Well, I was going to ask-” you begin, wanting to get a little more specification on how the filet is made, when Theo cuts you off.

“It’s okay, I speak French,” he insists. Not that it makes a difference to what your question was.

You press your lips together in irritation and glance at Steve, who looks back at you stoically. You wonder if he recognizes you like you do him- it’s been long enough, and you’re sure that you look a bit different than you did the last time you saw him. And then you notice the creases around his eyes.

He’s playing it off well enough, sure. But Steve is doing that same look that he did there in the Family Video five years ago, trying to pretend that he’s not affected by you, swallowing back his smile. He sends you a knowing look that says, What a fucking douchebag, am I right?

Suddenly, this date just got way more entertaining. You give Steve a minute roll of your eyes, only enough for him to notice. Tell me about it.

“We’ll start with the Bordeaux,” Theo is already reciting to Steve as you settle back in your seat. Steve pulls a little notepad out of his jacket pocket and begins writing. “For an appetizer, the coquilles. Then for the main, I’ll have the canard montmorency, and she’ll have the mignons de veau.” 

You watch Steve’s hand pause as he’s writing, and he looks to you. He raises his eyebrow, saying everything he needs to with the one gesture. Is that what you really want? “The veal?”

“No,” you say, digging your thumbnail into your palm, where it rests on your lap. “Actually, I wanted to ask about the filet. What brandy is the sauce made with?” 

Steve smiles, leaning a little bit closer to you. “We use Courvoisier.”

“Great. I’ll have that, please.” 

Steve nods encouragingly at you. As he jots down the order, he says, “Wonderful. I’ll get this to the kitchen for you, but before I can bring you the wine, I’ll just need to see the lady’s I.D.”

“Are you serious?” Theo snaps. 

“It’s all right,” you murmur, hiding your face as you dip your head to fish your I.D. out of your clutch. “He’s just doing his job. Right, Steven?”

Steve meets your eye as he takes the card from your hand. “You can never be too careful.” You watch him smirk as he looks over your I.D., his eyes lingering on your name for a second before he hands it back to you. If there was any doubt in his mind that you are who he thought, it’s gone now. “Interesting. We’re the same age.”

You laugh. Probably a little louder than is respectable, but you can’t help it. Leave it to Steve Harrington to remind you of the time you bought porn from him, while you’re on a date. 

You watch Steve write something else on his notepad, and rip the page out before folding it up. He tucks his notepad into his pocket as he says, “I’ll get this started for you. I hope you enjoy your evening.”

“Thank you, Steven,” you offer just as he starts to walk away. 

Steve shoots you a sideways glance. “Always.”

Your heartbeat pounds in your chest as you turn back to your date. Theo looks disgruntled, but he just lifts his water to his lips.

“So,” you begin, “what do you do?”

“Marketing manager,” Theo says, with a click of his tongue. “For Bowman Wine & Spirits.”

“Oh,” you nod. “No relation, I suppose?”

“My father owns the company.”

“Right.” God, help me. 

Across the dining room, Steve watches you over his shoulder. His jaw sets as he sees you, the girl of his literal dreams, sitting across from some idiot who doesn’t even know that you don’t order for your date without asking her what she wants first, you fucking weasel. 

That’s all right. You seem to have the situation under control, for now. Steve watches you calmly sip your water, staring at your date but not listening to a thing he’s saying. 

Steve sighs. He’s never been much of a schemer, but he’ll just make sure that you won’t leave with this guy if you don’t want to.

His fingers brush the note in his pocket, and he pinches it just as he passes the front of house manager, Taryn. Without breaking stride, he slips the note into her hand, heading toward the back hallway and down to the wine cellar.

As Steve passes by, Taryn unfolds the note he slips her, and raises one eyebrow at the request he’s written.

I can see you in your suit and your necktie, pass me a note saying, “Meet me tonight.” Then we kissed and you know I won’t ever tell…

Overall, you enjoy Sur La Table immensely. The restaurant itself, anyways. The wine is wonderful. The atmosphere is great. The food is exquisite. 

You’re about to jump the waiter’s bones. 

Theo got his second wind sometime after the scallops arrived, and you think he hasn’t paused for breath since. You’ve been calmly eating your food, while Theo tells you literally everything about himself. It’s the best case scenario you can see happening on this date. You enjoy the food, mumble a non-committal acknowledgement now and then, and Theo entertains himself with his own voice the rest of the time. 

You’re gonna kill Shelly for setting you up with him, but that’s tomorrow’s problem. 

Right now, you’re focused on finishing your glass of wine while he talks about camping, of all things. 

“So we got up into the Rockies,” he’s telling you, gesturing with his hands like it’ll make you more engaged. “We ended up freezing our keisters off. No joke, I have frostbite scars.”

“That’s, um… that sounds like fun.”

“No, are you listening? I mean, it was terrible. We couldn’t move for, like, two days. And when the snow stopped we were so tired and cold, we almost died.”  

You knock back the rest of your wine with one gulp, and say with a sticky voice, “Wow. A near death experience must have been really scary, I’m sorry.”

Theo frowns. “No- I mean… It wasn’t… it wasn’t near death-”

“You just said-”

“It was more like a serious inconvenience, you know. But we pulled through. I wasn’t scared. A little snow isn’t gonna kill me,” he laughs incredulously. “It was just-”

Theo stops as Steve approaches the table. You catch him giving the back of Theo’s head the most murderous look imaginable before slowing to a stop and plastering an easy customer service smile in its place. “How did you find everything this evening?”

“It was fine.”

“The food was wonderful,” you tell Steve reassuringly. Your date, on the other hand…

“Yeeeah, could we get the check, please?” Theo asks, finally looking up at Steve. 

You watch Steve’s brow twitch, such a small movement you could have imagined it. “Certainly. But first-” from behind his back, he reveals two white gift boxes and places them on the table in front of you and your date, respectively. “We like to give each of our customers a signature chocolate truffle, as a token of our appreciation.”

Everything in you aches. “Oh, that’s nice. Thank you so much.” You look down at the box in adoration, thinking for a second that it might be the only time in your life that Steve Harrington gives you something similar to a ring box. 

“I’ll be sure to have our hostess come through with the check,” Steve adds delicately, making a gracious exit. His finger just slightly brushes your arm as he passes by- a dangerous move, but one that nearly electrifies your entire body at the single touch. You shiver as he says, “Have a lovely night.”

You watch Steve walk away from you, and your heart sinks into your stomach. You want to chase after him. The 18 year old you, who almost kissed him on prom night, is trying to claw its way out of your skin and bolt after him. 

When Steve disappears from view, you have nowhere to look but at your date. Theo opens the white box in front of him and pops a neapolitan colored truffle into his mouth. “Well, that was underwhelming.”

You don’t want to watch him chewing anymore, like a cow gnawing on grass. You sigh, running a frustrated hand across your forehead, and flip open the box in front of you. The top of it rears up like a clam shell, and you freeze, your fingertips suddenly sticking to the sweat beading on your brow.

You don’t have a neapolitan truffle- you have a single golden chocolate coin. You stare at it in shock for a second before you even notice the note pasted to the lid of the box. 

Meet me outside- the door past the bathrooms. 

“Aren’t you gonna eat yours?” Theo asks suddenly, as the hostess approaches holding the check. 

Your eyes snap up just as your heart shoots back up into your chest. “I think I’m gonna save it for later.” You flash him a smile as you close the box swiftly and shove it into your clutch. “Do you mind if I hit the bathroom real quick?”

“No, go ahead. I’ve got it.” Honestly, it’s the kindest thing he’s done for you all night. You might have to thank him some day. 

Once you’re out of your seat, you chase after Steve like a shot. Around a block of tables and into a tiled corridor, you walk past the kitchen doorway just as another server comes backing out, carrying a tray of dishes. 

There’s a door at the end of the hall, labeled exit. You never actually thought you’d be escaping a bad date through the back door; the notion was too clichéed, you thought that sort of thing only happened in movies. But you find yourself nearly running past the men’s and women’s bathrooms, until your hands slam down on the bar of the back door and thrust it open into the wind. 

The rain has picked up, more of a downpour than a light drizzle now. In your haste, you’d left your umbrella and coat with the coat check. Not that it would have been at all discrete if you’d gone to collect it before running towards the bathrooms. 

The door clicks shut behind you, and you gaze around in the dark. The alley behind the restaurant is only partially lit by a yellow street lamp, making it even more difficult to find him than it was in the dining room. “Steve?”  

You catch movement in the corner of your eye, and turn in the direction of the street lamp. Steve stands up from where he’d been sitting on an overturned crate- apparently the only accommodations the restaurant staff gets during a smoke break. The rain has already soaked into his hair, messing up the tidy style and turning it stringy, falling across his forehead, shining gold in the yellow light. He takes one last puff of the cigarette in his mouth before tossing it into the gutter, and he looks at you. 

He sees you. And it’s all you’ve wanted since the day he first walked into your geography class, freshman year of high school. There’s been some kind of a magnetic pull between you two for years. Something keeps bringing you together, it’s just never been the right time. Until now. 

Finally, you’re running towards him, and Steve’s arms finally come around you, pulling you against his body. Your hands find the back of his neck just in time for his lips to crash against yours. 

You had lost count of the amount of times you watched him kiss other girls in the hallway in high school- not just Nancy, but any and every girl he attached himself to (for a while, it seemed like he couldn’t make up his mind who he was dating at any given moment). All you knew was that it was never you, and you wanted it to be so desperately that it consumed your mind half the time. He looked like a good kisser, and you fantasized about going up to him and testing that theory for yourself.

But you never expected that his lips would slide over yours with an urgency that you could feel through to your very core, probably even more desperate for your kiss than you are for his. Steve’s fingertips press into your body through the thin fabric of your dress, holding you firmly to him like he’s afraid you might disappear on him again if he doesn’t absorb you completely. Your mouth opens with a soft gasp, and Steve’s tongue against yours tastes like tobacco. 

It happens so fast that you can’t even think- and you don’t really want to. You’re tired of thinking everything through, finding reasons upon reasons why it’s not a good time, why it’s a bad idea, why it won’t work. He moans into you, grabbing the side of your face as he stumbles with you to the wall, pressing you up against the side of the brick building. 

You meet his moan with a whimper of your own as his hand slides down over the curve of your ass, and he hikes up the skirt of your dress to grab at your skin with abandon. There’s a ferocity in Steve’s kiss that you don’t know what to do with, like he’s trying to stake a claim to you right there in the rain, with no one around to see it happen but the moths in the street light overhead. Not that he needs to- he’s already got you. You already chose him. 

Steve gives you room to breathe with a soft sigh, his forehead resting against yours. “Been wanting to do that since high school,” he admits, just loud enough for you to hear, before pressing a featherlight kiss just beside your mouth, and again to your cheek.

“Y-you fffucking-?” you gasp when he latches his lips around a sweet spot on your neck and sucks. “I had such a huge crush on you, Steve.”

“I know. I- I should have- I should…” Steve drops his head against your shoulder and groans when your nails rake against his scalp. “Fuck.”  

He grinds his hips up against yours, biting your lip as the hard length of his cock presses up against your core. “Gonna fuck me in this alleyway, Harrington?” 

“I’m seriously considering it,” he growls into your ear. His lips find yours again with a passion, his hand holding your jaw still. A hot breath escapes him, pouring over your skin and making you shiver. You’re lightheaded, so close to just letting him do it, too, when the back door of the restaurant swings open. 

Steve still takes a second to pull away, a little too absorbed in kissing you to really care who sees him do it. If he had his way, he’d have everyone see that you’re his- that you belong with him, and have for a long time. He finally glances over his shoulder to see one of the cooks, Liam, walking off in the direction of the employee parking lot.

“Where did you get the fucking doubloon?” you whisper into his ear, sounding so fucking adorable that Steve can’t help the lovesick look he gives you. 

He brushes his nose against yours. “I sent my manager on a treasure hunt.” You giggle, pressing your forehead up against his, and he can’t help but chuckle along with you. “I wanted to give you one at Family Video, that time.”

���I know,” you say, and he pulls back to look at your face. “I heard you yelling at your coworker in the back room.” 

Steve snickers and turns red with embarrassment, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You run your fingers through his rain-soaked hair, a content smile on your face as you feel him grin against your skin and shake with laughter. “Take me home, Steve.”

You don’t have to ask him twice.

What would you do, baby, if you only knew? That I can see you throw your jacket on the floor, I can see you make me want you even more…

The drive to Steve’s apartment downtown is made with light conversation and the heavy, heavy weight of his hand on your thigh, creeping up further with each mile. But aside from the implication of sex hanging in the air, it’s as easy as breathing, chatting about the night with him. Shitting on Theo.

“Did you notice the way he said coquilles,” Steve murmurs to you at a red light. “I thought he was gagging on something. He was just trying to impress you, you know.”

You grunt. Could’ve tried a little harder. “He didn’t even like them. He said he didn’t like shellfish,” you laugh in return as you lace your fingers through Steve’s. “Why the fuck would you order scallops, then?”

“The price.”

“The price.”  

It’s sweet, talking to him all the way to his apartment building, just catching up like old friends. He tells you that he’s going to culinary school now, and he’s been working at the restaurant for a little over a year, just to pay the bills.

“Culinary school? Really?” you say, with a note of awe in your voice. 

“Turns out I’m really fucking good at cooking,” Steve chuckles. “Who’d have thought? Maybe someday I’ll stop waiting tables and work back there in the kitchen.”

“I can see it,” you tell him softly. “I can see you being the world’s best chef. Three stars and everything.”

He scoffs, but a pink blush creeps up the back of his neck. “You have too much faith in me.” 

“Those are fighting words, Harrington.” You wag your finger at him. “Throwing down the gauntlet?”

“You just want me to cook you something,” Steve tuts.

“Absolutely, I do.” You consider him for a moment, in the passing light of a streetlamp. “Am I that transparent?”

Steve tilts his head to eye you meaningfully, and he smirks. “Always have been, honey.” His thumb rubs a little circle on your thigh that has you squirming in your seat.

The first thing you see of Steve’s apartment is the kitchen, and beyond that the dormant living room, but you don’t get that far before you’re sidetracked. Steve throws his keys onto a drop station by the door, and pins you up against the refrigerator before you can even think to ask where to put your shoes.

Your clothes are still damp, your hair still pasted to your clammy skin. Steve’s lips are attacking yours and his hands are grabbing at everything he can touch, but it’s still not enough. He’s not able to feel all of you at once, and it’s driving him insane with every passing moment.

Steve roughly yanks his suit jacket off, throwing it onto the tile floor beside the kitchen island. “Lay down.” 

“What?” you whisper to him as he kisses your neck, guiding you away from the side of the fridge. “Here?” 

“Right here,” Steve states, not joking in the slightest. You wobble on your feet as you kick off your heels, but his hands on your hips keep you steady. “Been waiting too long for this- can’t wait anymore.”

“I- wwhuh-?” you gasp as Steve kneels in front of you, and your knees buckle involuntarily as he lays you down across his discarded jacket. Your hands grab his shoulders as you tumble backward, taking him with you. 

He face-plants into your stomach with a noisy, “Oof.” Cackling, you run your fingers through his damp hair, as he laughs and shoves his blushing face further against your torso. Steve litters your stomach with kisses, giggling against you with a note of nervous energy. He’s adorable.

You pet your fingers down the side of his face and he leans into the touch. “Can’t even wait long enough to take me to the bedroom?”

“Well, I would have fucked you in the alley,” Steve points out as his fingers breach the hem of your skirt and find your panties. He tugs as he says, “Be thankful I even got you home.” 

Your cheeks burn hot. You fidget, trying to press your thighs together to abate the throbbing ache between them. “Careful, baby. You’re starting to sound desperate.”

Steve pauses, his hazel eyes lighting up when they lock on yours. “Call me that again,” he requests, pressing a kiss to your ankle as he pulls your panties off your feet. He tosses them over his shoulder, but you don’t see where they land as he continues peppering kisses down your calf.

You hold his gaze. “Baby?” His eyes flutter, his lips parting as they drag up toward your knee. “You like when I call you that?”

“I like when you call me anything,” Steve admits. “But as long as you call me that, it means I’m yours.”

Your breath stutters in your chest. Steve Harrington is yours. It doesn’t matter if it’s just for tonight- what matters is that you have him now, and he wants you just as badly.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he murmurs quietly against your skin, his voice crackling with brimming need. He’s flushed, his cheeks pink and his hair drying in tousled waves over his forehead the longer he drags this out. 

Nodding your head, you reach down to lace your fingers through his, where they’re bunching your skirt up around your hips. “Yes, Steve.” Always have been.  

He turns his head and sucks a spot on your calf, just below your knee, resting your ankle over his shoulder. Still, despite your desperation, you nervously keep your thighs pinched together.

Steve tuts, “C’mon, baby, you’ve gotta spread your legs for me. You wanna let me see that pretty pussy, right?” 

Still clammy and cold with rain, the air on your exposed skin makes you shiver almost as much as his sweeping hands do when they gently part your thighs. You let go, let him take control as you still and keep your eyes focused on his face, because looking anywhere else would remind you that this is real, and not a dream.

Steve sighs, “There she is. Y’gonna let me taste you, sweetheart?” He bats his pretty eyes at you in a way that makes your heart stop dead in your chest. He can’t keep his mouth off of you, even for a moment, his lips and slight stubble dragging across your skin as he says, “Been wanting to forever, you won’t even believe-”

“Please, Steve,” you start to beg before he even finishes his sentence. “Please, my god, I- I just- I just want you so much-”

“Sh-sh-sh-shh.” His tongue licks wet and hot against your inner thigh before he whispers, “I’ve got you, baby. M’not going anywhere, I’m staying right here ‘til you cum.”

You’re instantly hot all over, your blood fucking boiling beneath your skin and your wet dinner dress. Steve’s fingers dig into the meat of your thighs as he yanks you toward his face, the fabric of his jacket beneath you audibly zipping along the kitchen floor. 

Steve dips his head, and his mouth closes over your cunt right at the same moment that yours falls open with a moan that won’t come out, because you’ve suddenly forgotten how to breathe. The noise stalls right at the beginning- your lungs stop working and you can’t seem to get them to start again, because Steve’s tongue is everywhere, dripping wet and gentle on skin that’s way too sensitive to handle it right now. Your hips try to jerk away from him in resistance, but he slams his hand down on them, holding you hard and still against the tile floor, his shoulders pushed up against the backs of your thighs to keep them open. 

Steve takes a break just long enough to grin evilly up at you, because he’s been waiting for five years to tell you to, “Breathe, sweetheart.”

“Fffffuck,” you manage to spit out finally, your voice cracking on the word like it didn’t even really want to put in the work to make it happen. Your breath comes back into your lungs all at once, rapid firing with a dozen moans for punctuation. Steve’s lips quirk against you, and he rumbles a noise of satisfaction against your pussy that makes you jolt in his hold again. “Steve…”

He pulls off of you with a slow, slow stroke of his tongue over your clit, making you whimper high and tight in your throat. “That’s it, baby,” Steve whispers, his breath fanning across your slick cunt, his left hand leaving your hip so that he can drag his knuckles teasingly through your swollen folds. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Feels so right.”

Two long fingers sink into you with ease, stirring the need in you to have him just simply destroy you. You moan loud, your hand shooting out and wrapping around the leg of a bar stool for the kitchen island beside you. 

“Poor thing’s just so sensitive, huh?” Your head arches backwards against the floor, your pussy clenching tight around his fingers as he curves them with practiced accuracy. Steve’s voice is a deep murmur, distant thunder rolling over your nerves, “Relax for me, honey. You’ve waited long enough, just let it happen. Let me give you what you want.”

His lips shine when you look down at him, your hand reaching to run through his hair. Stifling a whine that threatens to come out when he kisses your clit and bends his fingers within you, you stutter out, “J-just want… I- ha-ah! Just want you.”  

Steve purrs. “I know.” The crisp white fabric of his shirt scrapes against your thighs, almost rough in comparison to his tongue flat on your pussy. You can hear the wet, salacious sound of his fingers pumping into you, pulling you toward the edge of oblivion. He hisses through his teeth, shaking his head slightly. “God, I’m so fuckin’ lucky.”

“Y-you-?” you manage a laugh, scraping your nails along his scalp lightly. “You’re lucky? You have n-no… fffucking idea-” You cut off with a sob when Steve wraps his lips around your clit, sucking long and hard enough that your leg twitches, your heel dragging up the back of his pristine white blouse. Your breathing picks up just as all your muscles lock down tight. “Jesus Christ-”  

“There you go,” Steve praises as your orgasm shakes your body, your hand gripping his hair so hard that he groans softly into your damp skin. He doesn’t stop moving his fingers, lewd wet noises picking up and echoing through the quiet kitchen. “That’s a good girl. Mmm , felt so nice to let go, didn’t it?”

You don’t know if he really wants you to answer that- you’re still twitching, coming down from your high as he pulls his fingers from your spasming cunt and sucks them into his mouth. The pause gives you a gentle reprieve, sinking back onto his suit jacket beneath you. Then, his mouth finds your pussy again, his tongue delving deep into your entrance and laving up to your sensitive clit. 

You gasp, throwing your hands down into his hair. “Steve-?!”

He moans in response. “Just needed to taste you some more, honey. Taste so fuckin’ sweet, I can’t get enough.” Steve relents, crawling up your body to hover his face over yours. “Still wanna see the bedroom?”

You nod excitedly, your hands finding his smiling face and stroking the hair away from his eyes. With a gentle kiss of his wet lips to yours, Steve gathers your still-wrecked body into his arms and carries you into his bedroom. 

He’s struck by how blissful you are as he sets you down on his bed, so soft and inviting. He encourages your arms up, his hands finding the zipper of your wet dress and finally, finally, pulling it over your head so that he can see you. All your curves and edges on display for him, after all this time imagining what he couldn’t see with the naked eye. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Steve repeats what he told you all those years ago at prom- he meant it then, and he means it now. Maybe even more this time, now that he’s not a stupid teenager, now that he finally has his head on his shoulders. 

You shiver against him when he unclips your bra- black lace that matches the underwear sitting in his entryway. A possessive part of him rears up, knowing that you’d worn them to a date with some asshole who couldn’t treat you right, even for one hour of the guy’s miserable life. Steve dips his head and kisses your breast, so much softer now than he was before, feeling your heartbeat against his lips.

“Hey.” You gently tug him by his tie, loosening it and his collar. You look into his eyes, and his heart melts. “Where’d you go just now, sailor?”

Steve blushes, his eyes flicking down as you remove his tie and start unbuttoning his blouse. “Just thinking...” he trails off, eyeing you thoughtfully. “Just thinking I could have missed you again if I wasn’t careful.”

“Mmm,” you hum, your hands smoothing up his chest and over his shoulders to get his shirt off of him. It drops to the floor with a whisper. “I don’t think so. I think this was meant to happen, eventually.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You scrunch your nose cutely, in a way that makes Steve’s pants tighten even more uncomfortably across his hips. “We’ve run into each other too many fuckin’ times, baby. Karma’s on our side.”

He laughs. “Karma.” He shakes his head as he undoes his belt.

You quirk your brow at him as your hands fiddle with the fly of his suit pants. “Don’t believe me?” 

Steve grunts, shifting to lean over you. “I’ll believe anything you say when you’re taking my pants off, honey. I’m easy that way.”

Your nails rake through the hair on his chest- you can’t keep your hands off of him now that they’ve got him. You trace over two blotchy scars, one on either side of his torso that mirror each other. “What happened here?”

He blows a puff of air out of his mouth, rounding his cheeks as he shrugs. “Some… animals decided I looked really tasty, at one point. I know, they aren’t very pretty.”

Steve’s brushing over it like it’s nothing. You search his face, and you decide to do the same. “Actually, I think it’s kind of hot.” You drag your hand up to lay flat over his chest. You whisper conspiratorially, “Plus, I think you look really tasty, too.”

Steve quirks an eyebrow. “Y’gonna bite me about it?”

“Probably.” You wink. “Most likely.”

Your gaze falls indiscreetly to his cock, hard and flushed, glistening with precum and curving up toward his stomach. Girls talk, especially when they’re all trying to one-up each other; you knew that he was big. You’d heard the rumors. You’d seen him wearing those tight fucking jeans all the time, and you didn’t have to have much of an imagination to figure it out.

Still. It’s… a little overwhelming. You reach out a tentative hand, lightly wrapping your fingers around his base. They barely meet. Jesus Christ.

He groans, and kisses you until you can’t speak, resting his weight on top of you until you sink gleefully into the mattress. There’s a smile on your lips that transfers onto his, happiness and ease still flowing between you even as he grinds his hips up against yours. 

“Ready?” Steve murmurs softly into your mouth, stealing your breath when you feel his cock slide through your folds, hot and fat.  

“Dunno,” you tell him teasingly, but there’s an edge of reason to your words. Your hips squirm and you feel him even worse, slippery with your arousal. You whine. “I think you might kill me with that thing, Harrington.”

“I’ll go slow,” he whispers, hoarse in the back of his throat, his voice already shaking. “I’ll make sure you feel every bit of it, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree as you reach to line him up properly. “I’m all yours.”

Steve gives a relieved sigh as he slides into you, his head falling heavily to your shoulder. His cock aches, his torso shaking as he tries to steady himself. “Oh my god.”

“Baby,” you coo, choking on a moan when he bottoms out. He’s so thick- your nails dig into his shoulder blades as you try to remember how to breathe. It’s certainly a big stretch to try to fit him, but you can’t help wanting more just as soon as he comes to a stop. You can feel him trying to hold steady, holding himself back as though it’s the hardest thing in the world for him to do. 

Because it is. You can’t see it, the way that his brow is furrowed in concentration, his eyes screwed shut. He didn’t know it would be like this- that he’d be in danger of blowing it just as soon as he started. 

Your heel digs into his ass, and he doesn’t know if you do it purposefully, but he almost whimpers.  

You take a shuddering breath. “Please- please move, Steve, I can’t take it.”

Oh, you can’t take it? “You know what,” Steve says with a hint of strain in his voice, picking his head up to nuzzle his nose with yours, “I think you like me.”

You snort, and kiss him lightly. “What gave you that impression?”

“Y’so fucking cute.” Steve hums and sloooowly pulls his hips back, dragging his cock through your walls so deliciously that your toes curl. “Could be all those times you stared at me in class-” He watches your face as he pushes forward, until his hips are flush with yours and your head arches backwards against his sheets. “Could be when you nearly let me kiss you at prom-” Out. In. Steve runs his tongue up the length of your throat, and bites at your earlobe. He whispers, “Could be that you came on my tongue ten minutes ago.”

He picks up his pace, just a bit. Just enough to have the bed creaking under you with the rhythm, to have you moaning in tandem with him- needy and high pitched, leaping from your throat into the hot, sex-charged air.  

Steve’s lips latch onto your neck, and he sucks hard. He eases up after just a couple seconds, dragging his tongue over the sensitive spot, but you know what he’s just done- he’s marked you, right where you won’t be able to hide it in the morning. 

You want him to do it all over your body.

Your jaw goes slack and you’re losing all integrity. He’s even better than you imagined- sleepless nights wanting, hoping endlessly that you’d find yourself here, under him, couldn’t have prepared you for how perfect it feels. His hand finds yours and laces your fingers together, pinning it to the mattress beside your head, squeezing with every slow and purposeful thrust of his hips. 

Steve’s cock finds your g-spot like it’s nothing, like he’s known your body for ages. He barely even has to try before you’re whimpering, raking your nails up his back and leaving long red trails behind. 

Your teeth latch onto his shoulder and you bite, probably harder than you should, but you just can’t refuse the urge to mark him the way that he’s left his mark on you. He moans, a deep and boyish sound in your ear, as you drag your tongue along his shoulder, soothing the bite, tasting his sweat. The salt and the sweetness of his skin, mixed with the heady smell of sex in the room, have you losing yourself in him.

“Biter.” You hear him chuckle dangerously, rumbling along your skin while his nose skirts your jawline. 

“You’re so good, Stevie-” you whine, hot pleasure rearing up in you like a tidal wave. “Oh, you feel so fucking good, I love- love how you feel inside me.”

Steve groans loudly into your shoulder, his teeth grazing your collarbone. You think he has a mind to bite you back- maybe he’d do it harder. You can see Steve drawing blood, when the mood suits him. 

But his hand squeezes yours, his other sweeping broadly up your thigh and hitching your leg up further over his hip. “Yeah?” His voice is rough, bordering on a growl, “What’d’ya say we stay like this forever, huh? Just like this?” 

His pelvis grinds up against yours, his pubes crushing against your clit making you gasp. Everything’s wet- your skin, his skin, the sheets. Sweaty bodies sticking and sliding against each other, your hips meeting his in the middle.

“Like this?” you gasp, your head reeling. His forehead presses against yours, and it’s just about the only thing bringing you back into focus. Steve doesn’t falter, keeping the same pace and rhythm while he watches you try to form a coherent reply. “Mm- I- I, hhuh-”

“C’mon, babygirl,” he breathes against your damp skin, “you can do better than that. You love my cock so much, you wanna keep it warm all the time? Wanna stay in bed with me forever, is that it?”

You nod fervently, your hands grabbing at his neck, his hair, his shoulder- anywhere you can touch. “Yes, yes. God, Steve, I- you’re gonna make me cum, shit-”  

“I know it,” Steve murmurs, tugging your lip between his teeth and making you whine again. Your cunt pulses around him, and he hisses, his hand slipping on your thigh. “Love seein’ you all drunk on my cock- shit, you’re so gorgeous like this.” He pauses to kiss you, making you lightheaded, making you tug at his hair. “Y’look so pretty under me, baby. Pussy feels so good, I wanna stay here, too. I can see us doin’ this for the rest of our lives, huh? How’s that sound?” 

How does it sound? You and Steve Harrington, together forever? Intertwined, knotted up with no way to lose each other, no disappearing and then reappearing years down the line?

“S’that a challenge?” you whimper shakily at him. “Throwing down the gauntlet?” 

“I don’t think I could let you go, now,” Steve tells you firmly, his hand leaving your thigh so that he can grab your jaw possessively, his tongue darting out to trace gently across your bottom lip. “I’m never gonna let you go, baby.”

You wrap your legs around his waist. “I don’t want you to.”

“I hope so,” he whispers, his breath mingling with yours.

Steve kisses you long and slow when you cum. You swallow his moans when he does.

What would you? Baby, if you only knew that I can see you, oh, I can see you…

You almost think it’s a dream. When you rouse in the morning, you feel like you imagined it. But you’re surrounded by the scent of Steve, of musky cologne and sweat and sex, and maybe just a little bit of hair gel stuck to his pillows. 

You flop over and stare at the ceiling. You’re alone in a king size bed, fitted with gray sheets and a few too many pillows. The other side of the bed is still warm, but your paramour is nowhere to be found. His bedroom is fairly stark, with a few little things arranged on the dresser top and clothes thrown around the floor. It doesn’t feel like a room he spends much time in, aside from sleeping and dressing in the morning.

You immediately think about what this all means for you. Whether he really meant what he said in the heat of the moment, if he really wants this to be a long-term thing or if it was just pillow talk. It doesn’t take you long to determine which one you want it to be.

There’s commotion on the other side of the closed door. You lean over the side of the bed, searching for something to put on before you just waltz out there naked. Ultimately, you pull on his blouse from last night.

You emerge from the bedroom squinting against the light in the room. The blinds in the living room are open, casting bright sunlight across the room and into the kitchen. You find Steve in front of the stove.

“Hey, there she is!” he announces happily. “Just in time for breakfast.”

Steve looks so comfortable in the kitchen, moving around quickly and efficiently, whereas you tend to blunder about. When you wander over to the island, you notice he’s already picked up his suit jacket, and laid it across the bar stool next to the one you choose. 

Your underwear is nowhere to be seen.

You grin at his back, plopping down onto the bar stool. The metal is cold against your bare ass, nearly making you squeal and jump back up. “Is it a Sex on the Beach?”

He laughs gleefully. “Nah, if only. How was that, by the way?” 

“The ice cream, or the porn?”

He turns to grin at you over his shoulder. “Both.”

He’s wearing glasses. Round wire frames that complement his face perfectly, making him look distinguished in his gray sweats and black t-shirt. Just like that, you’re spiraling. Suddenly, you’re picturing yourself being here, with him cooking breakfast in his glasses and PJ’s every morning, on and on into the future. Doing domestic shit, grocery shopping, dancing around in the kitchen at 3 am, kissing in the rain- well, you’ve already done that one.  

But you can see it. That future, with him by your side, it’s right there. You just don’t know if it’s the one that he wants. You don’t really know how deep this runs for him.

Funny what just an accessory can do to your train of thought.

“Um.” You swallow. What was the question? “The ice cream was great. Still the best sundae I’ve ever had, by the way. The porn was bullshit, I didn’t get through twenty minutes. I just wanted to make you blush.”

“Brat.” He spins around, and plates an omelet right in front of you. You watch his face, tracing the easy smile he wears. “I hope you like it- but if you don’t, you better not say anything. I don’t think I could handle the pain of your rejection.” He looks up at you, hazel eyes shining gold in the sunlight. “You’re staring.”

“I-” you blink at him. You don’t fucking say. You open your mouth to ask- you want to ask what this is, what he feels, did he mean it. Do you want to do this again? Is this serious for you? Because it is for me, if you want it. You just don’t get that far.

“You’ve been staring since we were fourteen,” he chuckles, sliding you a fork. 

That startles you. “Well,” you click your tongue. “I didn’t realize you were looking so closely.”

“Oh,” Steve shrugs, turning to place the pan in the sink. “Just since freshman year. When you read Juliet’s monologue in English class. Remember?”

You tilt your head. Vaguely. It was just a class project, where each person had to choose a Shakespearean monologue to recite in front of the class. You thought he only even became aware of you senior year.

Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name which is no part of thee, Take all myself. 

“Are you telling me,” you say, palms flat on the counter as you peer at him incredulously, “you’ve liked me just as long as I’ve liked you?”

“Told you I’d get there, eventually.”

Your brain refuses to compute. You stare at his back, his tousled hair, and want to yank him toward you and squeeze him like one of those fucking squeaky toys that you get at the pet store. The ones the eyes pop out of.

Steve turns to you with a smirk, leaning across the counter to mirror you. He reaches forward to trace the mark he made on your neck, still tender, while mocking your pout back at you. His eyes crease at the corners, like they always do when he’s trying to be coy.

“Eat your breakfast, baby. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

(I see you, I see you, baby.)

[jennrypan]

Let's go down the line of fuckassary: LONG ASS POST AHEAD.

1: Gaia looked and acted like everyone else. She should've been WAY angrier, she should be pissed at Persephone for bringing about winter first of all. Should be pissed that she was a sleep and NOTHING got better over the centuries. But sure, she's giggling and happy.

(I liked that she shoved her hand in Ouranos' chest tho.)

2: It's soo funny that people keep SAYING that Persephone and Hades have true love but the comic hasn't showed us that ever 🤨, like if anything those two losers are obsessed with each other. Be so fr.

3: Once again..this should be Persephones story/POV but its in Hades' always. Fascinating.

4: "You have to spend 3 months away from your sugar daddy" OH NOOOO BUT WEVE BEEN APART FOR SO LONGB 🥺. God. At this point does she even NEED to be in the Mortal Realm fr?? Like..Demeter, Metis and Rhea are back now so..what's her purpose there.

5: The way Gaia just isn't. Gaia is baffling. Anyways. Demeter FINALLY found out what happened to Persephone but she's not..having a moment with her daughter?? Not talking to her about it?? Okay.

6: As usual. They're eager to have sex cuz that's the only thing they do. "I can't wait to see that ass--" ..how very Zeus and Posedion of you quote on quote romantic 🤨

7: She gets her coronation but..didn't she already have that when she married Hades?? Ig not then. Also..Apollo just got a slap on the wrist, not surprising.

DEMETER GOT PUNISHED MORE THAN HIM??? Hell the Titans got punished more than that bitch what the fuck??? God.

8: The disrespect to Zeus is so. 😶 Zeus would literally not sit back quietly for this shit the fuck??? Also..Hera didn't divorce Zeus all those years and now she did ?? And she's what..gonna get with Echo now??? Fascinating. Zeus needs to start tossing rocks. Rachel did Zeus and Heras relationship so fucking DIRTY!!!! GOD!! FUCKING DAMMIT. I hate how she wrote them. Anyways.

9: The Mortal Realm is a lot easier cuz Hades is there?? YOU WERE BORN THERE!!! ITS YOUR HOME!! You ungrateful ass spawn. It wasn't that fun cuz you didn't have a man there?? Insane.

10: The way Persephone clearly doesn't love her own mother is sickening actually. Like..we can't even have them talking to each other?? Dancing?? Even the comment about her doesn't have that much emotion. Also..Dionysus' hair looks goofy, and I guess Hades is all for bringing back mortals now despite making a big stink about it in season 1 but whatever. Yay Semele.

11: "hera just gives him busy work" ..He's literally the king. Literally-- oh my god. "His powers having been the same" which..MEANS WHAT?? And the way Zeus would literally not be happy about this shit is so-- UGH. God it's infuriating. Hades and Posedion clearly don't give a shit about their brother if they aren't concerned about his fucking powers 'not being same'??? Die.

12: Echo needs to stand SEVERAL feet away from Hera. That ship is so god damn tasteless and unnecessary. If you're gonna give hera a new love interest. Maybe give them actual moments?? Make it make sense!!

13: "Ares is still a dog!" *cue laugh track sound*, god this is so..why ?? Ares, baby I'm so sorry people keep disrespecting you in every iteration 🤦‍♀️

14: ignoring the Artemis bit cuz she wasn't relevant for any of the major plots and she still isn't. Anyways. Hades stay the FUCK away from Thanatos. "They can have conversations" oh?? How fascinating. Hades just NOW deciding to care about Thanatos doesn't make up for years of his neglect.

15: Persephone, Ares and Aphrodite should beat Eros' ass for being useless about Apollo. I still think that. Eros is an ass of a friend.

16: 'new powers' ..Girl your powers are basically your old powers with one extra step. Shut UP!!! anyways. (No one cares about kassandra, sorry not sorry. Who was worried about that )

17: Hades and Persephones millionth drabble of nonsense fluff. They're not saying anything new, nor are they doing anything new. I do like the art tho. It's just..baffling how..they're relationship started soo much nonsense and we're suppose to see it as a good thing??

THIS is a good ending??

Nevermind the fact Persephone didn't spend time with her friends or her MOTHER, nevermind the fact Zeus and Posedion don't even get to speak to their mother either.

Hera, Hestia and Demeter don't have a moment with Metis either.

Like..what was the point of bringing them back if you weren't gonna bring it to a satisfying conclusion?? Absolutely insane

Also..Eileithyias design is ass. It's sooo boring. It's literally just pilot Hebe but darker. Oh wow she's yellow with purple eyes??? Insidious. Also she just looks boring and bland to be the daughter of the literal king and queen but sure. Give us nothing.

And..again with making the children boring copies of one specific parent! Macaria is so..boring to look at just like Melinoe. Also...hades can..have kids now?? 🤨 okay.

So basically..this was insane from start to finish.

This wasn't a good conclusion. It was absolutely a wreck.

[akajustmerry]

do you have a top 5 richonne moments?

hell YEA. 💕

In Alexandria when they first get there and rick has one of his classic covered in blood madman monologues and she comes up behind him and knocks him tf out mid sentence and later, he's basically like thank you for not letting me lose my mind <3 it's hot because 1) rick is so hot when he's in maniac mode 2) michonne is so hot when she steals scenes and 3) you know if anyone else did that to him he would NOT have thanked them lol. true LOVE. (I also love this scene cos the first time I watched it was with my then bestie and he was like "rick got MICH-OWNED" and we laughed for ages)

would be remiss not to mention that moment in season 3ish (???) when michonne tries to cheer rick up by letting him know she too also used to talk to her dead ex so she's not bothered by him seeing things and rick smiles for pretty much the first and only time that season hehehe.

it's not really a richonne moment in that way, but danai and Andrew's performances while Carl is dying are so good. like there's a lot of stuff in twd that's forgettable but not that. All the love that's there between the 3 of them in that scene is so guttwrenching and there's the added element of how the cast knew the death was for such bullshit reasons idk. for a death that was so unscrupulous, their performances made it mean something so full of love.

on a lighter note, that bit in I don't rmr what season when rick is gonna head off to do something insane about the junk people or the saviours or whatever and michonne kisses him Like That™ sksksksnsnsndn it's not just because I love them and they love each other so much but also that I'm bi and wanna be them both so badly I could chew on titanium bricks. like that's what mitski is singing about when she's like, "give me one good movie kiss and I'll be alright"

honestly, a lot of people talk about horny and cute they are in say yes and amen 🫡 BUT since that episode is also the richonne thesis statement and manifesto the combat scenes are also SO GOOD. like, richonne isn't just a hot couple madly in love, they are an undefeatable combat duo. even before they were together when they go on their first runs and fight off the governor and terminus etc, they're so (I'm sorry I have no other phrase) drift compatible. they don't even need to speak most of the time they just know what to anticipate from each other. the way rick and michonne fight as such a seemless team with so much trust. unparalleled. genuinely, hope I know a love like that someday (minus undead shit).

this doesn't count because it's just a danai/Andrew moment but that episode in season 8ish when rick's imagining life growing old in Alexandria with michonne? anyway, I think it was in talking dead or something and danai and andrew were being asked about how the make up department aged them and andrew is like, "it was so RUDE. I had to spend hours getting all this old man make up and then I walk on set and all they've done is give danai grey hair!" and she's just like, "well, Black don't crack, baby" they're so funny 🥹

[aslongasimhereyoureinvincible]

haikyuu!! the dumpster battle ramblings

saw it earlier today and am going to see it again tomorow with a friend, am very Full Of Thoughts, if u dont wont spoilers for the movie well take this as your warning ig

okay first of all the sound direction, the sound direction was INSANELY good

this is absolutely a movie that needs to be experienced in cinema, the soundscape of tokyo gymnasium and the karasuno v nekoma match felt so vividly real it was like i was at an actual game

the soundtrack was great too, i mean it always is w/ hayashi yuuki

there were i think two tracks that used the leitmotif from 'above', good shit

the animation was also really great, overall it didnt look massively better than season 4 of the anime

which is fine, season 4 looked great imo (minus that outsourced episode)

but holy shit when the sakuga hit it hit HARD

tsukki and lev blocking, kageyama doing his thing, kenma and kuroo's quick, there were lots of really great sakuga moments

they also reused some shots from earlier on in the anime and idk maybe thats 'lazy' or whatever but i liked it, it was very nostalgic :')

they did re-animate and i think re-voice hinata and kenma's first meeting tho, framing it from kenma's POV, loved that

i think my favourite sakuga shot had to be hinata and kenma with the knives at each other's throats tho, that ate

not sure how i didnt know about this before hand but it made perfect sense to me when i saw studio trigger in the end credits, some of the sakuga, esp the blocking, had a bit of that trigger flair to it

so obviously they werent gonna fit in everything from the manga, and the movie definitely had kenma as its focus, but i think overall they did a decent job in picking and chosing what to cut

the one thing im annoyed about is the removal of old coach ukai and coach nekomata's backstory, i really i think it makes the handshake at the end of the game hit that much harder

other than that tho i dont think the movie suffered from not adapting everything in the manga, i mean obviously i wouldve LIKED it, but i dont think the movie NEEDED it to be a good movie

it very much felt like kenma was the main character of the movie, and the main focus, with kuroo and hinata as his deuteragonists

which i liked!!! i think framing the match from kenma's POV for the most part makes sense, and its fun to spend more time in outsider POVs of karasuno

rlly loved the adaptation of kuroo and kenma's childhood flashback, im pretty sure kaji yuuki voiced kid kenma too

watching their friendship grow and seeing them play togther now as high schoolers, AUGH RIGHT IN THE FEELS

theres also a montage of kid kuroo barging into kenma's room to demand they go play volleyball together that ends on kuroo doing so whilst kenma's changing/putting on trousers which was rlly funny and silly

the stuff with kuroo and tsukki was so good too

'thanks to everyone, occasionally it's fun', 'thank god i wasnt wrong', 'he's a man who walks ahead of me'

AUUUGHHHHHH IT WAS SO GOOD :')

the scene that completely stole my breath away though was kageyama setting the open toss to hinata

i know ive already lost my mind over the whole 'threat of trust' thing and truly, the inarizaki match goes insane with that concept i will always adore it

but holy shit that scene smacked me over the head, HARD, with the concept of 'setting as a love language'

i just... i literally dont even have words for it it was SO amazingly good, i legitimately teared up in the cinema

speaking of other great scenes;

'stay interesting, 'kay?'

OHHHHH GODDDDDDDDDD

they did it perfectly

the music and the soundscape completely cutting out, the background whiting out so its just kenma and the net, kaji yuuki's delivery of the line

it genuinely felt like something out of a horror movie, it was creepy, and unsettling, and PERFECT

also;

hinata's reaction after kenma collapses and says 'that was fun'

murase ayumu's delivery was so VISCERAL, dude got in that booth and CHEERED

you really felt hinata's sheer utter come through in that little scene, same with kuroo's incredulous laugh

the end of the match was slightly a mixed bag for me

on the good hand;

having done from kenma's first person POV was cool, i dont think haikyuu's ever really done that before, and it looked awesome

cutting back on the music and background soundscaping so we just focus on kenma's breathing and the sound of the ball/players jumping/shoes squeaking etc was a great way to really immerse the viewer in the scene, and put us inside kenma's head

on the bad hand;

it was anticlimatic, and i KNOW the whole point of the end of the match is that its anticlimatic,

but i had always imagined the scene with dramatic swelling music and the characters running frantically, only for it to all cut away when the ball slips and all you can hear is kenma's 'ah-' and there'd be a close-up of his facial expression

the stage play did a very similar thing and it worked EXTREMELY well imo

instead by doing it in the first person POV and already not having music it just,,, didnt feel quite as impactful as it shouldve imo??

like the match points for the seijoh, shiratorizawa, or inarizaki matches were done really dramatically

and i know the whole point is that the nekoma match is kinda an outlier in that it ends in that anticlimatic way with the ball slipping, and theres that big beat with hinata calling out 'nice serve' to tanaka before the realisation sets in that theyve won, but jusstttt

idk like it certainly wasnt BAD, i still DEEPLY DEEPLY enjoyed it, but just personally if i'd been the director i wouldve done it differently

also!! because it was from his first person POV we didnt get to see kenma's face on the 'idiot! the ball hasn't dropped yet!!!' line, which was pretty disapointing ngl i rlly love that scene how it is in the manga

ok enough complaining tho back to the infinite list of stuff i loved about the movie

the camera work! good god the camera work was so fucking cool

it really made the space of the gymnasium feel 3d and real, the way the camera would move over and through the net with the ball helped emphasise the physicality of the players and the court

i know jack shit about cinematography but yeah, after the sound design the camera work was prolly the best thing

the post credits scene was great!! daishou trying and failing to neg kuroo cracks me up every damn time

and the set up for the kamomedai match was so hype

speaking of; the very vague forshadowing for hinata's fever of him having flushed cheeks and not being all exhausted after the game like the others, auughhh my heartttt

if he isnt already, this movie will make kenma one of your top 5 haikyuu characters

seriously i love how they switched the perspective and framing so it was a bit more like kenma was the 'main character' of this match and hinata was the 'rival'

overall the movie was cool, creative, and a really clearly loving adaptation, im more than happy to be paying to see it again tmr lol

i'll probably have even more to say after seeing it a 2nd time so tune in for that ig

[straightbaittournament]

may the best bait win! propaganda under the cut:

robin and steve:

After Steve and his gf break up in s2, in s3 the show pairs him up with Robin - his opposite. They don't get along, but through insane plot are forced together and become friends and work together. Robin even confesses that she used to obsess over Steve. But when he tells her he likes her, Robin reveals that she obsessed over Steve because the girl she liked was into Steve and she was jealous. In one scene their relationship switches from 'well duh they're gonna get together' to 'oh shit they're bffs - a lesbian and her supportive himbo'

In my opinion, this is the quintessential straightbait, the first I've ever seen to seem so on purpose. Steve and Robin spend the whole of season 3 becoming closer and Steve is constantly told by his friends that he should make a move on Robin. When he finally does, surprise! Robin is a lesbian! This was so masterfully done imo because I actually felt some chemistry there and then they hit us with the lesbian card. Now they are besties who talk about boobies together and I wouldn't have it any other way.

they were paired together at the beginning of s3 and everyone thought they were gonna end up together, steve even confessed he had a crush on her, but then it was revealed that robin was a lesbian so they stayed Platonic with a capital P they're codependent best friends with a single braincell between them what more do you want

"it isn't because i had a crush on you. it's because... she wouldn't stop staring at you."

roy and riza:

Did you know they’re not canon? Because they’re not! They love and care for each other deeply and spend a ton of time together throughout the series but they never actually are romantically involved. The ship everyone thinks is canon but isn’t it’s that big of straight bait

slight disclaimer: the mangaka has said that riza and roy love each other and would marry each other given the chance, but will not act on their feelings as it would be inappropriate due to their military ranks as colonel and 1st lieutenant/bodyguard. some have interpreted that as royai being canon, although nothing has occurred in canon to explicitly express romantic desire

Sooo in love with each other but NEVER admit it… she’s his bodyguard and he also tries his best to protect her and there are a ton of moments that show their closeness but they just can’t have a relationship in their current situation

roy and riza! you either know it from the series or u are sick and tired of seeing them in other polls! but theres a reason for that—its about the devotion, its about years of pinning, its about the trust, its about knowing each other so well that u can distinguish the imposter posing as each other, it's about the villains using ur other half to force u to do sth, its roy trusting riza to keep him on the line and riza telling him that if he strays she will kill him first and then take her own life, its about riza trusting roy to burn the sigils on her back after trusting him with the sigils and teaching him the fire alchemy and!!!! all of this and still no kisses. pain and suffering on the earth (the good kind) no kissies after 64 episodes leaves the fandom in shambles (clickbait)

[iwantasquaresbar]

Buddie rambling and speculation (don’t like don’t read :))

I’ve got extreme buddie brain rot, and before this most recent episode I was genuinely like 80% convinced we were gonna get buddie endgame. I always thought it was going to take a while like end of season 8 or in season 9. But I think like every one else that last episode just baffled me. It’s so strange I mean we will see I guess where things are going to go it doesn’t completely change what I think might happen but boy does it confuse me.

Because to me Buck is primed and ready, like he’s ready for a serious relationship, he’s worked out his sexuality and yeah he’s with Tommy at the moment and is happy. Which I’m enjoying he should be able to have a sweet romance. However to me it always seemed like they were intentionally leaving little cracks in their relationship and those cracks if torn open always lead right to Eddie or Buddie. I’m aware I’m delusional. But like 7x04 I feel like we all know Buck was jealous of both Tommy and Eddie. Like that peacocking in gym was not for Tommy, but I do genuinely believe he wanted Tommys attention too. They also spend that whole episode drawing attention to the similarities between Eddie and Tommy. Then Eddie turns up on the date and in my opinion Buck wouldn’t have done the whole hype straight routine if it had been any other character (also don’t love Tommys closet joke or his leaving but also he should be able to protect his own peace).

Then arguably the most intriguing to me is the costumes at the beginning of 7x06 like I agree it’s not that big of a deal that Tommys not in a costume if he’s on call but what is a big deal is having Buck bring it up. Because idk about anyone else i wouldn’t have realised Tommy wasn’t wearing a costume if it wasn’t brought up, and like it would be so easy to put him in a patterned shirt or have a cute moment where buck makes fun of him not being dressed up then like give him some like fun 80s glasses or some shit like that could’ve been a cute moment but no they had Buck be a little disappointed and Tommy act nonchalant. Then they follow it up with a scene where Eddie is the only one interested in bucks plans for a bachelor party and then he suggests matching costumes for them. Like ik im crazy but im not that crazy right like ik that scene is probably more to do with showing that they don’t know each that well yet and they’re learning and how tommy makes an effort to come but like i just don’t know why we got that parallel. Sorry this little thing just drives me insane.

Anyway the point of this post is I believe Buck is ready for buddie like the door is closed because he’s dating someone else but it’s not locked and it’s easy to open up. But Eddie he has so much work to do he needs to properly grieve Shannon and realise he doesn’t need to replace her for his or Chris’s sake. Then maybe he can face that he might not be as straight as he originally thought.

Basically i still definitely believe buddie can happen and be endgame i think they’ve set a good foundation especially on bucks part but Eddie has a long way to go and it’s gonna take time. I think the writers are keeping there options open and we won’t really get an idea if anything will happen between them until probably like end of season 8

[cinnamonanddean]

Okay Smallville friends, here we go: finale time.

"And now, the series finale of Smallville" WHAT IF I'M ALREADY SAD

"Special Guest Star: Michael Rosenbaum" wow spoilers much?? I mean not for me obviously but for OG viewers. I would have SCREAMED.

Lois, sweetie, he could be saving people every minute he's doing anything, by that logic. Why is his working at the Planet, etc, any different than spending time with you?

Aww, bye Luthor Mansion. You've been a fun place to stage so, so many Clex fics. Hmm I wonder if there are more fics set there or in the barn loft? I'm torn between them, personally.

Kind of rich for Martha to complain about Clark moving on when she hasn't been around for years. "This is our home" okay but you left him here. He's had to cope without you. It's not fair to put the responsibility of keeping the past alive on his shoulders alone.

Oh no his vows 😭😭😭

I feel like we don't have enough time to wrap up this (rather dull) Darkseid plotline AND have a wedding AND bring Lex back? I know this is a double episode but still. Although I suppose Lex's scene will be short and right near the end.

Oh no her vows 😭😭😭

Again I ask: has there ever been a TV wedding that just goes smoothly?

At least Lois's dress is nicer than Lana's. That bow haunts me.

Is he gonna walk down with her AGGHHHH this is so sweet 😭

Uh oh. Lois girl, pay attention, that's not the right ring. Oh thank god for Chloe.

Can't believe they're doing this to Oliver ☹️ hasn't he suffered enough?

So wait: did Clark Luthor not have powers? Did I miss that? I swear he was throwing people around and shit.

Lol is that a Herve Leger bandage dress on Lois?

Agggh Tom does vulnerable so well. "I can't, Dad" just like a little baby boy, I weep.

OH GOD I KEEP FORGETTING ABOUT ALT!LIONEL, it's a fucking jump scare every time.

Oh my god so this Lex is a fucking Frankenstein?? That's...weird. A Frankenlex.

OH MY GOD HE'S GONNA TAKE TESS'S HEART

IS THAT MICHAEL?? Wait probably not, we didn't see his face.

YES GIRL KICK THEIR ASSES

YES GIRL KILL THAT OLD BASTARD!

God this Darkseid CG is so bad

Omg omg omg omg omg OH MY GODDDDD

Oh I hate when they take an already blurry photo and then CSI-style ENHANCE! it to magically unblur it

OH MY GOD OKAY HERE WE GO

I see one of the Franken-pieces was his sassy ass mouth. God I've missed him.

Lex, honey, you've been back for thirty seconds and you're already waxing poetic about how he says your name??? I see another of the Franken-pieces was the need to make every interaction so incredibly gay. "Yet...with a hopeful finish" oh my god honestly

Apologies in advance: I might have a comment on every line of this dialogue.

Oh dear, you can see the bald cap a bit when he raises his eyebrows. I remember Michael said the bald cap was more trouble than just shaving his head lol

Lord, it wouldn't be a proper Lex return without a history speech. HONEY I'VE MISSED YOUUU!

"that's the thing about memories: you can't forget them" mmmm I don't think that's true baby.

Oh gosh the vitriol.

"You and I - we will both be great men. Because of each other." Honey the WAY you talk about the two of you. THE VOICE CRACK. "We have a destiny together, Clark, only on different sides."

Everything he says sounds like a love confession I'M SO SORRY BUT IT DOES

Stop wait one fucking minute here. The last piece of Clark's little "am I strong enough to face this threat" puzzle, the last person to give him the courage and the conviction to do what he needs to do - is LEX FUCKING LUTHOR??? NOT LOIS NOT HIS PARENTS NOT CHLOE BUT LEX??????? oh my god what is happening that is INSANE OF THEM

I need to watch that again. Gosh I haven't done that since the Lexana scene from Fracture.

HAHA I missed Lex's joke about Lionel's heart the first time around. Why is he so funny

God Michael is so fucking good. He just elevates the tone. It's really what's been missing from these last seasons. The others are good - Tom is so good, I'm not discounting him at all - but Michael is on another level.

Hmm seemed a bit too easy killing the Prophets

Oh poor John Glover. This is Not Good. He was always so suave and cool as Lionel, this is a step down.

Aww look how far our sweet boy has come 😭 I'm so proud of him.

HE'S FLYING 😭😭😭

OH I DIDN'T KNOW WE GOT MORE LEX I THOUGHT IT WAS JUST THE SCENE WITH CLARK

Ahh jeez. I kinda came around to Tess. She wasn't Lex but she was fun.

Oh riiiiiiight, I forgot he gets his memory wiped. Again.

OH MY GOD THE LAST MEMORY IS HIM AND CLARK OF COURSE IT FUCKING IS

Lol what the fuck does he think is happening, now that he can't remember?

THE LUTHORCORP SIGN TURNING INTO LEXCORP THAT WAS SO RAD

Our baby finally in the suit 😭

Girl I don't think they just let you film the President like that. That camera is gonna be taken away IMMEDIATELY.

Oh yeah I forgot about Jimmy. That was...a choice.

ALL HAIL PRESIDENT LEX!!!!

"yes Miss Lane" "that's so hot" girl yes it is.

Oh the theme 😭 what an ending

That was so great. A bit hokey in parts, but overall such a satisfying finale. What a ride.

[lovecolibri]

I feel presumptuous for asking but it's your fault. I'm bored and the buddie posts are wearing me down, any advice on getting started?

On watching 911?!?!? (Hopefully because that's gonna be the whole answer below and I'll feel silly if I fully missed the point of this 🤣)

I'm SO thrilled to be asked, but I'm probably the worst person to answer this, because my response will ALWAYS be "start at the beginning and watch the entire show" because my brain will not work any other way and it is INCONCEIVABLE to me to try and watch a show out of order or only in parts. If anyone else has advice to do this, please jump in (I will only slightly judge you 🤣)

Fair warning for a few things if you take my advice and just watch the show. 1) No Eddie in season 1. It is an important season for all the other characters including Buck though and trust me, you're gonna love all of them because it's impossible not to. 2) One of the main characters is a cop, so the copaganda exists and whenever they focus on that aspect of the show it is....not particularly handled well 😬 but all the other mains are firefighters so their rescues take more of the focus. 3) Buddie was shut down by FOX so be prepared to spend a lot of time watching them be forced into other relationships and looking at your screen like "why the fuck are we doing this?!" 4) Despite FOX shutting down Buddie, I walked into the show after s3 aired (because that's when s2 came back up on Hulu and I had to miss s3 until s2 was up) FULLY believing most of the Buddie edits were exaggerations, or incorrect quotes, but no actually they are just completely insane and in love with each other, FOX just wouldn't let the narrative go in the direction it was pulling. Which is DEEPLY frustrating to watch, but also a lot of wildly insane moments that are gonna pay off soooo well if (when???) ABC gives the story what it's been asking for. 5) I am fully a salt gremlin and hater so while I always welcome asks or messages to flail about this show, I'm not the person to be sympathetic about any of the past LIs though I absolutely use anti tags for any of my posts for easy filtering. I also unashamedly hate the showrunner shift in s5-6 so I'm a bench about those seasons and most of the choices made. Otherwise, I'm happy to chat, flail, and go back and forth like

(And if you wanna be a hater in my inbox or messages, I'm always down to talk shit 🤭)

Be prepared to get hit in the feels with moments of the good in humanity shining through, people pulling together to help while the music swells, found family, and ridiculous and impossible rescues because when this show is at its best, it's about hope, and healing, and the "good guys" saving the day and everyone going home. It's not perfect, but in the veritable SEA of procedural cop dramas about the constant brutalization and murder of women, and medical dramas that are more drama than rescue, this show (especially in the first 3 seasons) feels different in a way I have never quite been able to describe.

Good luck, please come join us, we're (currently) having a great time, AND, for all the shows faults and missed opportunities, the fic this fandom comes out with is *chef's kiss* SO good. (As long as you know how to filter in Ao3)

[themultifandomgal]

Tyler Hoechlin- Our Love

EW Interview 2011

July 2011

It's day 1 of comic con. Today we are mainly doing interviews with different magazines, web shows, etc then tomorrow we have our panel

“Holland your gonna have to sit on Colton’s lap slightly. YN you move back” Tim our interviewer says. Tyler pulls me to him so I’m basically on his lap. Tyler, Dylan and Posey are all given mics to hold

“It’s a good job we all actually like each other” I joke looking at how squashed we all

“Actually YN there was something I was meaning to tell you”

“Rude” I gasp at Colten

“I’m joking you know I love you”

“Yeah yeah, buy me a coffee later on and I’ll forgive you”

“YN your addicted at this point” Crystal looks at me as she sits next to Posey

“It’s not. I just love coffee and it keeps me awake”

“Well if you slept at night YN you wouldn’t be so tired in the day” Dylan says looking at me. He’s talking about how Tyler and I spend a lot of nights together, but we honestly do just sleep… mostly

“Ok are you guys ready?” Tim asks breaking up our chatter. We either say yes or nod our heads in response “it’s Tim Stack again, I'm coming to you live from EW's lounge at the Hardrock Hotel at comic com. I'm here with with the very attractive cast of Teen Wolf"

"Stop it" Posey says with a mic in his hand

"You are. I'm like a hobbit interviewing a bunch of hotties"

"Your the sexiest man here this weekend" Tyler says into a mic he's holding

"Thank you. How are you guys doing this has to be you first time at comic con right?"

"No. We had a rouged session here last year before the show aired" Holland answers for us

"It's YN and Colton's first time here though" Posey says to Tim

"So how have you guys felt about the first season. I mean it's great people are loving it"

"We knew shooting it, it was going to be badass, but seeing what everyone else thinks it's surreal"

"We're just excited for season 2" Tyler says playing one are over the back of the couch where

“Do you know anything about season 2 yet?”

“No nothing” Dylan says while I shake my head. I try to scoot up a bit but Tyler gives me a funny look. I lean to his ear so the mic can’t hear

“Feel like I’m giving you a dead leg”

“No your fine” he replies

“You sure?”

“Yeah”

“Are you guys excited for your panel”

“I’m excited for the panel” Crystal replies

“Yeah last year we had like random questions and no one really knew us” Tyler says

“Ok I have a big question. How do we keep the two Tyler’s err I mean is there like Tyler 1 Tyler 2”

“It’s Posey and Hoechiln usually”

“Yeah we normally go by last names I mean we have kinda given each other our own nicknames haven’t we” Posey says

“Yeah YN’s usually the one giving nicknames. Like in her phone we’re saved as the most random things” Holland laughs

“Joe Manganiello who’s on True Blood plays a werewolf and he has this insane work out routine what is the Teen Wolf work out routine?” Tim asks. Holland points between the two Tyler’s

“A bag of donuts, lots of Chines and maybe some sit-ups if I feel like it” Posey jokes

“And then this one will actually hit the gym and teach us a lesson” Holland points to Tyler

“People only ask about the guys work out but these girls, like I’ll pass YN in the gym and she’s be on the treadmill for an hour. Her abs are probably the best here”

“Aww thanks Colten. There’s no though have you seen this ones” I point to Tyler behind me “to be fair it’s only recently I’ve been getting into the gym” Tyler hands me the mic “I’ve never been fussed with working out, or eating healthy but since being around these guys…. I’m really competitive so if I’m in the gym with Ty or Posey I have to beat them at something even if it’s just one more sit up than them”

“How many can you do?”

“Oh god, I just try to match Ty like keep at his pace”

“Hoechlins like your personal trainer” Dylan laughs

“Ok that’s all we have time for today. Thank you for joining me”

“Thank you for having us” Posey says

“Hopefully I’ll see you again next year”

[macaroni-rascal]

I hate to say it, but Bridgerton has got to be one of the most uneven-quality pieces of media I've ever consumed. The way it can go from brilliant scenes with exquisite acting and writing and turn around a second later and have CWcore levels of manufactured drama and hokey performances. I'm utterly bored one minute and enthralled the next. They spent so much time building up Cressida but she just ended up being more of a plot device than a character and was unceremoniously discarded the second she'd served her narrative purpose. Kate has kicked Anthony out of bed TWICE this season, whymst? Couldn't be me. And the sheer whiplash from the slow burn Polin deliciousness in P1 to the overcrowded and crammed P2 where almost no moment could be earned or savored because the season should've been at least 10 episodes instead of 8. There's incredible detail and insane craftsmanship to all the design of the show but such silly continuity errors that I sometimes wonder if the different departments even talk to each other. On a certain level I should know what to expect from a Shondaland production at this point in my TV watching career, but I can't help but think that the show never *truly* reaches its full potential. It's just such a mindfuck that a show can both be junk food for the brain *and* approach generational cultural milestone status. I appreciate so much of it but at the same time I want to change so many things, especially surrounding pacing and focus, it's infuriating.

Here's my take: I think it's a show to watch with soft eyes.

I agree with you on almost everything, but I also don't want to take the show too seriously, because I'm just here for the dumb fun regency romance of it all. If I really dove deep I would 100% change stuff, but I'm making the conscious choice to just float on the surface of the water and go 'ohhhh pretty girl in pretty dress getting loved up! ohhh ball gowns! ohhhh drama! angst! hands kisses!'

I could also spend hours on the Shondaland of it all, but I would rather just stare at gifsets of Colin and Pen being in love/adorable/hot with each other, so that's what I'm gonna do. Not trying to yuck your yum, feel all your feelings and think all your thoughts. For me, personally, some media avails itself to closer inspection, and some of is just fluff that makes hearts happy as long as you don't look too close.

[inchidentally]

more tricky asks! again, bl 'wank adjacent' to not see these <3

(gonna lump these all together since it's the same topic)

I had no idea that leap was even made aslfgslajfgajsl yea it's just Lando being Lando! but hopefully if ppl know they're just being silly about rpf then that's fine. only a problem if they're truly thinking it's real.

these posts are also infamously bat signals that pro athletes do to let hookups know where they are

again like, I'm gonna assume that the dando ppl I follow are all fully aware that rpf is just for fun and not real. but yea those people you linked to (from what I remember, you sent this weeks ago I'm sorry!) are actually insane. even ignoring that Lando and Daniel choose to not see each other or interact for months ?? Lando literally went out of his way to say that he and Martin wanted to get out of Bali (do NOT quote me but I saw some ppl say they got robbed again? or their friends did?) and their Finland trip wasn't due to start yet so they decided to spend a day and night in Perth with Daniel. this was very much a Lando and Martin thing and it's funny and slightly tragic for ppl who keep trying to write Martin out of this.

there was also an entire group of Daniel's friends staying with him as well lasfljsagf how is any of this romantic or sexual unless Lando was the party bottom

honestly this is why I was surprised to find out there were dando truthers at all ?? when he does the exact same act with most of the men he meets why randomly decide that him doing that with Lando makes it a legit gay relationship alsfgsjlagflagf. I'm also not heterosexual so I cannot convince myself that Daniel's "gay" stuff is actually gay ! that man couldn't be more typically Aussie straight guy who almost veers homophobic with doing the gay shtick he does for laughs.

it's also where Martin has clearly struck a chord of unwelcome reality with the carlando and dando rpf truthers bc oops here's an example of someone who could in every way actually be a secret gay relationship of Lando's based on what they consider to be "evidence". I do not think they necessarily are in a relationship and will not makeassumptions about sexualities etc. but Lando, Carlos and Daniel literally friendzone each other and see each other as bros who pretend gay shit for a joke. they're also happy to not so much as think about each other for months on end let alone even see each other for anything other than F1 travel or group trips. but Martin? is in Lando's life significantly bc he actively chooses to be! when the season ends, for two years now he and Lando have done the thing all the drivers do with gfs and wives and spend almost every moment with each other on getaways! Lando liked a comment calling Martin his wag and didn't make a joke about it! they don't do anything bromancey or fake gay together! Lando genuinely gets bashful and quiet when asked about Martin! they're not bound together by work responsibilities and most of their time together is created in the small spaces their different careers allow! they're both actually single!

again, I am not wanting anyone to actually push this ship directly onto Lando or Martin or their personal content anymore than they already are. but I do have to laugh when I see two rpf ships fighting it out for who Lando wants more when like. if you apply real life logic and not manufactured bromance, Martin is the only candidate !!

and can I just say again thank fuck landoscar fandom doesn't do any of this shit and loves Martin and norrix and can multiship for fun godddd

I have a totally innocent and casual habit of reading gossip pages and let me tell you the rpf truthers revealing themselves when they push the "PR" and "beards" angle to try and get rid of Heidi and Rebecca lasgflsagfjagfsa. then the wailing when something inevitably destroys their conspiracy theories !! what's even funnier is that on multiple occasions Lando is found to be happily hanging out with Carlos and Rebecca and Daniel and Heidi. almost as if he's just a mate of theirs can you imagine ????

re the submission: I'm leaving those links up bc I know those ppl aren't taking any of this seriously and are just posting cute content - which it is! <3

but yea sadly there's people who see guys like Oscar and Martin as a "threat" to their rpf ship for various reasons (ironically, one of the main reasons being they don't play gay for a joke or do bromance stuff with Lando) and invent entire narratives around it. as you said, believing those narratives would mean believing Lando is the absolute worst of the worst and would paint him in a terrible light ??? even apart from it being wattpad levels of absurd

it's also just funny bc Oscar's Lando fanboying on social media included him liking carlando and dando content as well as Carlos and Daniel content. our boy was chronically online between karting and F1 and he was agreeing and playing along in both the circumstances you listed alhfalfhsafhsa literally why do ppl want this stuff to be so angsty for no good goddamn reason it's intended to be fun by all involved

and the second ask oh fr, even just bringing up maxiel it's like damn that shits all over dando alfhsalhflasfhal. ironically norstappen shits all over dando as well. but even apart from rpf Daniel is so in the public eye that everyone already knows who he considers his true closest friends and that Lando and the F1 drivers are all firmly in his work friends group.

side note you do wanna ask the ppl who are actively hating on Martin how they explain Daniel being tight with him before Lando was ???

I totally get needing to vent babes but my constant reminder will be to use this kind of stuff as a means of pruning your fandom experience. blockity block block anyone being this unhinged. Lando is on Raya, Daniel is in a ltr with Heidi, Carlos' family are welcoming Rebecca in more and more and Martin is... someone extra special to Lando. what that is defined as is known only to them &lt;3

[jupiter049]

I think that whether Wild Blue Yonder has any big returning characters or actors I think that at the end of the day it's gonna be about Donna catching up with what the life of The Doctor has been since they last saw each other.

They have just reunited, Donna will probably want some catching up to do. Just... Imagine seeing her react to everything The Doctor has done ever since Journey's End.

Becoming the time lord victorious.

Sacrificing his life to save Wilf.

All his adventures with River.

The trauma of losing the Ponds.

Coming to terms with his past and saving Gallifrey.

Spending centuries fighting in trenzalore.

Facing off against Missy and proudly claiming himself as an idiot (Donna would be proud lmao).

Getting Caecilius face as a reminder of what Donna told him, only to take the message too far and then spend 4.5 billion years in a torture chamber and nearly destroying the universe to save Clara.

Experience what Donna suffered by losing his memories of Clara but also the joy of gaining them back after so long.

Finally growing to slowly accept grief and carrying the memories of his loved ones with him.

The reveal of the timeless children.

Spending decades locked in prison.

The revelation that a big chunk of the universe has been destroyed by the flux.

Meeting tons of his previous companions again and making amends, with now this being Donna's turn.

Etc.

I imagine a scene like that one in Twice Upon A Time, using archival footage to show many of these events as Donna watches in shock.

One of the reasons Doctor Who has been able to last for so long it's ability to mystify itself. Nuwho commonly mythologizes the events of classic who, meaning new viewers can watch it without have previously seen it and even getting hooked because of it as it adds a lot of mystery and mystique to The Doctor as a character.

The specials are very clearly meant to regain a lot of old viewers back and it's hard to do that while making plot-lines highly tied to less popular seasons. So, now it's time for series 5 to 13 to get mystified. Just like Rose represented the clueless new viewer intrigued by The Doctor, Donna would be the old fan seeing the show again and getting to discover all the insane things that have happened in the show since David Tennant left, like reuniting with an old friend and getting to know all the crazy things they were up to during those years.

[lunatic-fandom-space]

Im about halfway through Party Crasher rn and its insane how bland Adrien is normally and how endearing he is when we get to see him hang out with his friends without him being on this pedastal by Marinette. Its not even like hes always that boring when Marinette is around or like this show cant write them being cute together because when they were hanging out as "just" friends in season 2 they were honestly pretty adorable! I also really liked them when they thought they were a couple in Oblivio, but for some reason the writers insist on writing Marinette as this bumbling fool whenever shes around him so anytime theres an opportunity for them to spend time together and develop their relationship, we need to get through this barage of bullshit hijinks where Marinette can barely get a word out and then the episode ends with a small moment where something kinda cute-kinda romantic happens but it doesnt actually affect their relationship in any meaningful way

I honestly think focusing more on Adrien would make the romance so much better because it would actually gives us reasons for Marinette to like Adrien because as it stands she really only seems to like him for shallow reasons but the show doesnt really acknowledge that? Like, they try to paint characters like Chloe and Lila as in the wrong for only liking Adrien for his looks and money but its fine for Marinette to do the same thing because idk, shes nice ig not a poorly-written caricature of the Mean Popular Girl archetype ? Granted, MLB has that False Ideal Self/True Flawed Self dichotomy-thing going on with Adrien obviously being that false ideal self in contrast to Cat Noir so you could say it kind of is calling her shallowness out but idk, this just reeks of misogyny to me

Also, before anyone accuses me of anything, I dont mind Marinette being the sole protagonist of the show while Adrien is just the love interest rather than the co-protagonist like you would think from the full title, I just think romances inherently work best when all of the people involved get an equal amount of focus and get fleshed out equally. I think if they wanted to have Marinette be the sole protagonist, it wouldve been better to focus more on female friendships (which is what actual magical girl shows tend to do anyway) and spend more time exploring the relationships between Lila and Chloe and Marinette/Ladybug. That would be a pretty interesting way to handle the theme of Persona vs Real Self with Chloe bullying Marinette but idolising Ladybug and Lila despising Ladybug but wanting to be friends with Marinette (ik that doesnt actually happen but shhhh Im trying to dream up a better version of this bad show) and you could even do something with Kagami outwardly being the type of person you would expect to be Ladybug but no actually being Ladybug and maybe even wanting a life closer to the one Marinette has

Also, to kinda bring this back around to Party Crasher, one of the things that I do apperciate about the show is how the Miracuclass feels like a big 'loose' friendgroup with smaller more close-knit 'sub' friendgroups within it. I dont exactly know what french school culture is like, but it seems like once the classes are picked, youre gonna be spending most of your time at school in the same group for several years. Its like that in germany too and since most popular media is american and about The American School Experience, I dont often get to see that dynamic portrayed in media and I appreciate that. I just wish we could have a few episodes that focus a bit more on those smaller dynamics, like Max and Kim have a pretty sweet unlikely friendship going on, the person Nathaniel texts his bad excuse to is Alyx and they have similar interests and seem happy to sit next to each other but I feel like they hardly interact, it'd be nice to flesh out Marinettes Girl Squad and some of their individual relationships a bit because aside from Rose and Juleka and Marinette and Alya I kinda feel like the only reason they hang is just that theyre all the girls in their class who dont suck ass. Also, this isnt really based on anything in canon, but I recently had a thought that Nino and Luca would probably get along well since theyre both musicians and theyre both meant to be Cool Guys, just in different ways and I like Adrien and Ninos friendship and the few times Adrien and Luka got to interact I thought they were cute and idk, ive been getting really attached to the idea of Adrien, Luka and Nino as a trio

[daensa]

so from what’s I’ve seen you ship Daensa (slay) and I’m curious: what is your view on how their relationship was portrayed in the show and how would you have done it differently? also, how do you think their relationship will play out in the books (I think about this ALL THE TIME, it’s insane)

PLEASEEE for the uninitiated, i was tumblr user daensa and still have the url saved LMAOO i am obsessed with them.

i have a pretty generous views of adaptations and i usually prefer to see them standing on their own than to spend too much time comparing them to the source material. and that makes daensa kinda of odd for me ajsbdjkajlkdasm bc the way i see it, show daensa and book daensa are two completely different dynamics. but i love them both.

as usual i talk too much

i love book daensa bc it's so... romantic <33 i grew to love sansa through the years bc she is me!! i am her!! sansa is this sort of stand in for the readers who grow up also listening to stories and songs and dreaming of great knights and love stories. she is the little reader and dreamer like us fantasy enjoyers are. and dany!! dany is theeee hero!! dany is the targaryen knight from the songs!! who believes in love and justice!! all stories can't be lies and dany (and brienne1!) are proof of it <33 also, dany is such a romantic. i do think dany sees the beauty of this world and has so much hope for it. they both dream of being loved (who could love a dragon/no one is gonna marry me for love) and i just love the idea of them finding love in each other. ice and fire. it's just so utterly romantic!

for when they meet on the book... hmm... i try for my own sanity to not spend too much time speculating about the books anymore bc i think it will drive me crazy waiting lol. i kinda see the show with the apprehension of them trusting dany given the mad king and their grandfather and uncle. but i also think book dany is very different, and will arrive as someone who is known to be good and fair. some internal conflict of coming to trust a stranger, i think its always welcomed in a story to make the characters feel more natural. but i think they are two people who could grow admire each other. i think both of them can sympathize with each other's story, and find common ground on what they stand for! i am very excited hehe

as for the show... hmm... as a romantic myself i am not a fan of how they changed both sansa and dany (and other characters) to loose this romanticism they carried. i don't think the point of the story is to go through everything and see the world as bleak and grey. it ends in a dream of spring after all. so the longer it went on, the less i enjoyed the characterization of both of them. i missed them having hope, them believing and seeking love.

buut, i would be lying if i said it wasn't a little entertraining to see them later season having an 'enemies' thing going hasbjak it's a dynamic i do not expect them to have on the books, so seeing it play out felt like a little fun au happening before my eyes. i enjoyed the few moments they had, the hand holding scene... aaaaah! it was interesting. they mistrusted each other which somewhat fits their then current show characterizations, but also found some common ground. however, if the showrunners weren't cowards.... sansa would have loved to burn KL to ground with dany on dragonback.. (for legal reasons this is a joke)

[miralsurvival]

Mags duval eye for an eye song

#MAGS DUVAL EYE FOR AN EYE SONG MP3 SONG#

#MAGS DUVAL EYE FOR AN EYE SONG OFFLINE#

“We've all got those voices in our own heads that we often hear the loudest. It's imperative, as a writer, to be able to spend time alone.” And I do believe that's the birthplace of so many ideas and those reflective emotions that come out of that time. It's so necessary, I think, to be able to retreat into that quiet place. I think there's something so profound about the quiet, as a creative person. All of these things are actual things that I was talking about, the sounds in my house that were driving me insane. And I literally was like, ‘I am going crazy in my house by myself,’ like hearing the traffic going by the window and watching the rain and the washing machine in my house. “I wrote this song over Zoom with my friends Mags Duval and Dan Wilson. I think being alone, sometimes it seems like you're the only other person on the planet who feels that way.” As we were writing it, I was like, ‘Wow, this is scary, how honest this feels and how vulnerable this feels, but I'm doing it.’ And it was so therapeutic as we were working through the verses. And I wanted to write something about how it can feel on the other side of that sometimes. “I was living in my apartment by myself at the time, looking at a stack of invitations for some friends’ weddings, just going through that season of life where it feels like everyone else is finding their person. And it meant a lot to get to talk about that in this song and felt like a really special beginning to the friendship.” To be able to say how we were doing, talking to each other through that period of not feeling fine as an entire globe-I think it's just so important to have those people in your life. “This song was the beginning of friendship, which I think is so cool, because this song is exactly about that, about finding those people in our lives that we really can show up for and that we can be our honest and true selves with. Below, Townes walks Apple Music through each track on Masquerades. Other highlights included “Shared Walls,” a call for unity featuring BRELAND, and the closing, Fleetwood Mac-recalling “Light in Your Eyes,” which is sure to be a staple of Townes’ live sets. Hit single “When’s It Gonna Happen” considers the difficulty of feeling alone when friends begin getting married, while tracks like “Villain in Me” and “The Sound of Being Alone” encourage listeners to get in tune with their own inner selves. Townes digs deep in these seven tracks, drawing heavily upon a period of sustained personal reflection during COVID-19 lockdown. “Spending more time with some of those more vulnerable and uncomfortable and personal thoughts has very much forced me to figure out that process.” “The heart of this music comes from this season of searching that I've definitely felt myself reflectively in over the past couple of years of figuring out what it feels like to really set that mask down,” Townes tells Apple Music.

#MAGS DUVAL EYE FOR AN EYE SONG OFFLINE#

You can even download MP3 songs for offline listening.Canadian country singer-songwriter Tenille Townes follows her critically acclaimed 2020 album The Lemonade Stand with an EP charting the difficult but liberating act of being one’s true self. Songs are the best way to live the moments or reminisce the memories and thus we at Wynk strive to enhance your listening experience by providing you with high-quality MP3 songs & lyrics to express your passion or to sing it out loud. Along with it if you are looking for a podcast online to keep you motivated throughout the week, then check out the latest podcast of Podcast. With Wynk Music, you will not only enjoy your favourite MP3 songs online, but you will also have access to our hottest playlists such as English Songs, Hindi Songs, Malayalam Songs, Punjabi Songs, Tamil Songs, Telugu Songs.

#MAGS DUVAL EYE FOR AN EYE SONG MP3 SONG#

Wynk Music brings to you Devil Eyes MP3 song from the movie/album Devil Eyes.