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rougecreator1 · 1 day

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Sooo… I have an idea. Poly!plastics x reader where reader has a concussion caused by some cheerleader things but she is like “I’m okay” and then her girlfriends notice something is wrong with her. (Regina will be really mad at her for hiding her injury). Thank you so much, I love your writing!

Totally Fine ||

|| Poly!plastics x fem!reader

(i myself am poly!)

|| Warnings: Regina being Regina, reader getting concussed, swearing, Regina arguing with reader, brief mention of throwing up, reader in hospital

|| Summary: reader's part of the cheer team, her girls go and support her only to watch reader fall from the pyramid much to their concern. Reader insists she's fine, turns out she's very much not and her girlfriends know it. They take reader to the hospital, with some scolding from Regina.

Requests open!

Started: April 27th

Finished: May 2nd

~~~

When finale bell rung, you started packing your stuff to leave the classroom. Filling your bag with the various books and papers you had from your English course. Once everything was together you headed out of the classroom; going to your locker to put your bag away and grab your cheer clothes. You had after school cheer practice today and you were looking forward to it.

As you walked to the locker room, you took out your phone and texted the group chat you had with your girlfriends.

You: are all of you still coming to watch? 💕

Gretchen was the fastest to respond, she usually was. She'd never leave you on delivered for more than two minutes unless she was genuinely busy with something; even in class she still made time to text you.

Gretchen: ofc!! omg dw we'll be there 🥰

Karen: be wear?

Gretchen: y/n/n cheer practice, kare 😭

Karen: oh yeah! oow 💕💕💕💕

Regina: oow????

Gretchen: on our way 💀

You laughed a little at their conversation, finding it amusing how Gretchen could always translate for Karen. Sometimes you could understand what she meant, other times you would have absolutely no idea what she means.

You send them a quick text back before shutting your phone off.

You: ilyyy all 🫶🫶

Once you arrived in the locker room you got changed and chatted with some of your cheer friends as you guys walked to the field together; laughing and mostly chatting about various rumours.

Ashley, the head cheerleader, got everyone organized and the Captain went over today's routine. Just some simple stuff, practicing the cheer for Friday's football game. It would be the first of the season and you were excited. It wasn't your first year doing cheer, so you knew what to expect. Usually routine, same old chants, ending with the finale pyramid.

You guys spent about twenty minutes going over your routine, by this point your girls were in the field stands watching and cheering you on. Honestly Gretchen and Karen would kill it on the cheer team. Maybe you'd try and convince them to sign up for next year.

"Alright, ladies! Pyramid up!" The Captain shouts, looking directly at you since you were her flyer (the person at the top).

Everyone got into position, you got to the top of the pyramid and struck your pose.

"Hold it!" The Captain says, watching all of you and checking your stances.

You guys were able to hold the pyramid for a good few seconds, until disaster happened. One of the girls who were under you helping keep you up began to tremble. She was new, she wasn't used to this. You braced yourself for what you knew was coming.

There was a longer pause than you had expected, you ended up letting your guard up because of it. Maybe you were fine. Wrong.

The moment you thought that she dropped you and you fell with no time to brace yourself.

Hitting the ground with a thud, the Captain rushed over to you and knelt beside you.

You felt like the wind had been knocked out of you, you were dizzy. Nauseous. Everything was spinning as you groaned and tried moving onto your side. Pain shot through your body.

"Woah, woah. Easy kid." The captain puts a hand to your shoulder and frowns, watching you with an intense concerned gaze.

You stopped trying to move as your girlfriends rushed to your side.

"Oh my GOD! Are you okay? Are you hurt? How many fingers am I holding up?" Gretchen rambled out, feeling an overwhelming amount of concern as she held up two fingers.

You saw three and stared at her in confusion, trying to keep up with everything she was saying. By now the cheer team had gotten out of the pyramid and were standing a good distance, watching everything play out.

"Three...?" You mumbled, your speech slurred which confused Regina. You sounded like you were drunk but she knew better than to think that, she looked over at the Captain who seemed to be thinking the same thing as her.

Concussion.

Gretchen's eyes widened when you said three instead of two and she looked at Regina," Regina, what do we do?"

"Nothing. I'm fine." You assure her, trying to stand again and push through it.

"You are absolutely not." Regina sighed, narrowing her eyes at you as you tried to push it off like it was nothing. She knew you well enough to know it wasn't nothing.

"Oh yeah? Would someone who wasn't fine be able to do this?" You decided to show off a bit to prove your point. Doing a backhand spring, the only reason you landed right now was because of muscle memory. You nearly threw up as your head spun.

Regina groaned loudly and placed her hands on her hips while Karen clapped and smiled at you. Gretchen looked at you with pure worry.

"Fine! Wanna act like a tough girl? Act like a tough girl, see how tough you feel afterwards." Regina rolled her eyes and dragged the other two back to the bleachers, Gretchen really didn't want to leave your side but let Regina drag her.

Your Captain looked at you with worry," You sure this is a good idea, kid?"

"I'll be fine." You assure her.

Cue yourself eating absolute shit in three... two...

Ten more minutes pass, you do your best to keep up with the routines in your state. You were doing totally fine, until you started seeing spots and your vision went black.

~~~

When your eyes began to slowly open, you felt yourself blinded by hospital lights. Squinting you glanced around you, not moving from where you laid.

You could see Karen and Gretchen sitting beside you, Karen holding your hand and rambling about something to you.

She knew you had been unconscious when she started talking, she just wanted to talk to you in case you could hear her so you didn't feel alone.

You looked around a little more, spotting Regina pacing in front of your hospital bed. Her eyes met yours and you could see her expression shift from concern to anger.

"You're such a fucking idiot!" She shouts, startling you, Gretchen, and Karen.

"Regina!" Gretchen gets up, walking to the blonde in hopes of calming her down. Regina just puts her hand in front of her to stop her.

"I told you you weren't going to be fine! Why didn't you just fucking listen to me?"

You frowned and looked away from her, you had tried to hide how hurt you actually had been because you didn't want them to worry. You didn't want to burden them with you. Turns out, that just made things a whole lot worse.

Gretchen glanced at you and mirrored your frown, she felt bad for you. She hated that Regina was yelling at you for this, couldn't she have at least waited until you were out of the hospital? This was the last thing you needed.

Karen kept her hand holding yours, giving your knuckles soft rubs with her thumb as she tried her best to comfort you in silence. She knew better than to talk over Regina.

Regina narrowed her eyes at you when you looked away, she grabbed your chin and made you look at her again. She pulls you a little closer to her face.

"Never fucking pull this 'I'm fine' bullshit again. You hear me?"

You nodded slowly and she let go of you. As she did, you let out of breath.

"I'm going to talk to the doctor about when you're allowed out of here." With that, Regina walks out the door. Slamming it shut behind her. Making all three of you flinch from the sudden noise.

You shared a look with Gretchen as she returned to where she had been sitting before next to you and Karen. She rests a hand on your leg.

"How do you feel?" Her voice was so much softer than Regina's had been, you appreciated that about Gretchen.

"Like my head was run over by a bus." You mumbled, you had a killer headache. Regina's yelling did nothing to improve it.

"Do you want anything? Water? A snack?" Gretchen asked, frowning when heard your response. Her instinct was to take care of you and that's just what she was going to do.

You slowly nod your head, trying to ignore how that simple movement made your headache worse." Please."

Gretchen gives your leg a soft squeeze then gets up, going out of the room to find a vending machine. She trusted that more than the cafeteria food.

Karen stays with you, keeping her hand in yours as she talks to you about anything and everything. Hoping it distracts you from whatever pain you're going through. You don't have the heart to tell her it's making your headache worse.

"I'm not ready for this math test, like what even is it about? Do I need to know what an adjective is? Because I don't know what an adjective is.." Karen rambles on, you raise an eyebrow at her wondering what the hell adjectives had to do with math.

You just listen to Karen's ramble, occasionally nodding your head and adding in your little bit to the conversation.

~~~

You spent the following couple of weeks recovering, your girls taking care of you. Though mostly Gretchen & Karen. Regina was still pissed at you and wanted to make damn sure you knew that. So, Gretchen and Karen came up with a plan.

They had told Regina they were both busy one night and that they'd need her to keep an eye on you. Make sure you weren't doing anything to make your injury worse than it was. Regina argued, but they pleaded because they didn't want you to be left alone. Regina rolled her eyes and very reluctantly agreed.

She stayed over at your house that night, you spent most of the time in bed. Every now and then Regina would walk into your room.

During one of her last check ins, she noticed that you were asleep. She walked over and rested her hand on yours, watching you with an uncharacteristically soft gaze.

"I know I've been rough on you, but you were a fucking idiot." She was barely talking above a whisper, not wanting to risk you hearing her.

"I still love you. But seriously you're a fucking idiot." Leave it to Regina to not let you forget how much of an idiot you were, even while you were asleep.

#x reader #canon x reader #fanfic #fem reader #wlw fiction #mean girls x reader #mean girls #regina george #regina george x fem!reader #regine george x reader #gretchen x reader #regina x gretchen #karen x gretchen #karen shetty #karen x reader #regina x karen #gretchen wieners

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calliopesdiary · 2 days

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escapism. TEASER

MINORS DNI- 18+ NSFW

poly!marauders band au + leadsinger!reader

warnings: this fic contains: smut, punishing kink, degrading kink, finger fucking, manhandling

summary: when you and the boys get into a slight disagreement, during one of your shows you sing a song you KNOW they don't like you singing. and lets just say you get a... stern talking to.

contents: fem!leadsinger!reader, i don't know how to write smut..., bassist!remus, drummer!james, guitarist!sirius, cussing

a/n: as i've implied previously this is my first attempt at writing smut, so lmk if its good!!

a/n for teaser: i’m genuinely curious if i can write smut because (im a dirty lil virgin) but also i’ve never even tried

YOU KNEW THIS WOULD END BADLY... your boys were going to be pissed at you, but somehow you couldn't find it in your heart to feel guilty or bad. they hurt your feelings, so you'd just hurt them back.

it was certainly not the right way to go through this.

but there was something so thrilling about it, about singing this song. up on stage. with thousands of people to see. and you could bask in the glory of pissing off your boyfriends.

was it really your fault? the feminine urge to sing this song was overwhelming and... let's just say you had totally recorded it behind their backs. when you first showed Remus the lyrics he was skeptical.

"Love, I admire the tempo but don't you think it's a little too dirty for our genre?" You knew he was probably just jealous about you saying those kinds of words for everyone in the world to hear.

James was next, and James could be blunt.

"I adore the intro, sweetheart. but I don't like you talking that way unless its with us." you remember him shrugging.

Sirius, ohh god, Sirius.

"No."

"Why-"

"I'm not letting you play that at a show.

bingo, they were jealous of the lyrics they were hearing.

so when you had that argument, you knew this was the perfect way at getting them back.

the show started out as usual, playing the normal set. but not making eye contact with your boys.

you set up a track before you went on.

"You guys can leave the stage now." you looked up at James.

"Aren't you going to leave aswell? your body needs rest-"

"I'm fine, I had coffee." You snarked, stepping back onstage. the crowd cheering for your return.

"Alllright... this last song- honestly isn't pg at all and i'm probably going to get murdered for this but-"

the track starts, the boys can hear it from backstage. Sirius is pissed, sexually.

"sleezin' and teasin', i'm sittin' on him-"

"all of my diamonds are drippin' on him."

"i met him at the bar- it was 12 or somethin'"

"i ordered two more wines cause tonight i want em'"

"that bitch-" Sirius slurs.

"a little context- if you care to listen."

"just a heartbroke-bitch, high-heels six-inch."

"in the back of the nightclub, sippin' champagne."

you had done it, sang the whole song with the audience going absolutely insane. and your boyfriends were pissed to say the least.

after you had finished, you wandered off stage when you got lectured.

(full version is coming (unfortunately) soon)

#calliopesdiary #marauders era #fem!reader #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #marauders #fanfiction #poly!marauders x reader #minors dni #smut #marauders smut

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sumnthingabouther · 1 day

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⋆·˚ ༘ * boss! Abby x subordinate! fem! reader

nsfw towards the end

cw: slightly obsessive abby, implied inappropriate activity in a workplace. men and minors dni

Now you didn’t know this but Abby always had eyes for you, ever since you first joined the company a year and some months ago. initially you weren’t under her division, having been under someone else in the finance department. Meaning she had to watch you from afar. But god did she love it when she caught you in the morning. Your slightly tired face while you held your leather binder tightly in your arms. The way you shuffled to the elevator in your almost barely work appropriate skirts. One time you had made the mistake of bending over in front of her. Accidently bumping into her in the early morn as you were making your way to your cubicle, causing all your papers to scatter across the ground. Apologies fell from your mouth profusely while work to get your fallen papers off the ground.

“Its all good, here let me help you with that.” The offer came from a genuine place, however when she saw you bent over in that extremely short skirt, a flip in her switched. After helping you she watched you scurry away, a smirk plastered across her face. God how she wished she could get a view like that again.

She spent months remembering your schedule, what time you got to work. what time you got lunch. what time you clocked out. Everything…. in a non creepy way of course she just wanted to see more of you. As time went on she began to grow antsy , simply knowing your schedule wasn’t enough for her anymore she wanted to keep a close eye on you. Eventually, she had some strings pulled getting you to transfer under her. It was better this way, she needed to keep an eye on you.

You never knew why you got transferred over to her so suddenly, but the position you were offered was much higher than your previous one and the pay was so much better. You took it with no second thought. Plus you were already well acquainted with Anderson, working under her would be a breeze. Or so you thought.

You began to notice how she would hover over you, initially you thought it was her making sure you were adjusting properly. “Just making sure you’re doing okay, don’t be afraid to step by my office if you need anything.” Then came the passive aggressive attitude towards your coworkers that got a little to got to close to you. Noticing how she scowled and folded her arms that flexed under her dress shirt when they walked away. “She can handle that just fine, if she needed your help she would’ve asked.”

Then came the day you dreaded, getting called into her office out of nowhere. your anxiety skyrocketed as you made your way down the hallway, heels clacking against the cold ceramic floor. Your hand hovered over the door knob of her office door, taking a breath before opening it. Abby welcomed you in, the tone of her voice was surprisingly soft which made you relax a bit, and to your surprise she spoke highly of you.

“As much as i love praising you, lets cut to the chase.” her tone immediately dark. fuck here it comes, you were so getting fired. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” Wait huh? Abby shot up from her desk, she was circling you now with a dangerous glint in her eyes.

“E..excuse me? Ms. Anderson-” “Abby is fine,” she interrupted. “—and you heard me clearly, you’re a smart girl aren’t you? You can put two and two together.” She was taunting you now, and as much as you tried to hide it, it turned you on so bad.

“Now do me a favor doll, and lock my door for me.”

#SUMNTHINGABOUTHER©#T writes ⋆·˚ ༘ *#non rqs 🪷#the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou2 #tlou2 smut #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby x you #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson smut #lesbian #wlw #sapphic #been ITCHING to post this one omg #i didn't mean to make her semi obsessive i promise #or maybe i did #hehe

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whiskeyswifty · 2 days

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Sometimes I can’t tell what is genius and what is accident with Taylor, genuinely like I’m not diminishing what she does. For instance, the recent album phenomenon where almost right away, every single person, critics included, made their own “TTPD Edit” if you will. A trimmed down selection of the 31 songs that either they think made a tighter album, fit into a narrative they liked, created a new narrative, or whatever compelled them. Obviously I don’t think Taylor wants anyone to cut any of her songs off an album she herself made, of course. So here is where I err on the side of accident. But then… I think about how the number one thing all artists, even Taylor sized ones, are tasked with is creating engagement around a product. Taylor for this album tried to start the “fortnight challenge” which went absolutely nowhere. However, the fact that everyone, haters and lovers of ttpd alike, have made their own edits, which is an incredibly active form of engagement and stream booster, is an astoundingly brilliant stroke of….. luck? Genius? I can’t tell. I can’t fucking tell!!! Maybe it wasn’t accidental and she was intentionally clever to drop an obscene amount of songs that resemble more of a sketchbook than a solid story or even sonic cohesion (again not a knock just a pretty objective observation compared to previously more cohesive works of hers and others). An album almost… stay with me here, almost too messy that it begs you to finish it up, clean it up. Engagement that was so compulsive and universally experienced by everyone that its unreal to me how that’s unintentional. And she’s especially intuitive in this arena, finger on the pulse, mirrorball woman that she is. The data dump release format feels almost like a strategy in that way. But I can’t quite believe she would ask of us to pluck our own apples from her abundant but still carefully cultivated tree and make our own pies. She encourages us to incorporate the songs into our lives yes but don’t tell her how to do her job, surely not! So I guess even if it was accidental, I suppose that’s still somehow a form of genius to me, that even her impulses are in tune with how to best engage a modern audience. Having been in this business, and on this end of it, for so long that she can just sense when to drip feed us and when to stuff us like foie gras geese. Does she fundamentally understand that audiences hate being told what to do, as she feels the same way herself, and knows how to guide engagement without forcing it? Is that also insane? Giving her TOO much credit? Idk I can’t decide but it’s a stone I turn over and over in my brain. She figured out that the house always wins and so she became the house. Astounding.

#idk what this is I’m just musing on main here after my afternoon coffee #and before you come in here and say BLAH BLAH I NEVER MADE MY OWN EDIT IS PERFFCT YOU JUST DONT GET IT PEA BRAIN IDIOT #Know you’re in the very very small minority and nobody cares #do what you want but your evangelizing will fall on deaf ears #it’s ok to love an album and also engage with it in a critical way I promise. two thoughts can exist in one brain #my silly little essays

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antoncyng · 1 day

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౨ৎ. save my heart — l.mk

synopsis - while your bestfriend saved the city as the friendly neighborhood “spider-man”, he also gets caught up in saving your heart from a lost love.

warning(s) - fluff, slightly angst..? happy ending tho, kissing, spiderman!mark x fem!reader, slightly suggestive towards the end?, mentions of injuries and blood, bestfriends to lovers.

word count - 0.7k (731)

another night studying, calming music from your favorite group currently, TWS. the studying was seriously starting to get to your head, you felt it pounding as your rubbed your forehead, finally putting down your pencil for a break after hours and hours, then you heard it.

knock, knock, knock

you knew who and what it was just by the rhythm of knocks, it was your bestfriend, mark lee. other than your bestfriend, mark was also a well known superhero in your city, as well as around the world. his story about being bitten by a radioactive spider went viral, turning him into the friendly neighborhood spiderman.

you've made a realization over the years that you had gained feelings for your bestfriend, but having to push away your feelings for the sake of friendship and trust wasn't easy. ever since you made realization of these feelings, it hurt and left you with a heavy heart every time he talked about his past and previous crushes.

"yn she's so pretty, what am I gonna do?!"

“i asked her to eat lunch with me today! i might confess soon..”

“from a girl’s perspective, do you think gwen likes me?”

gwen this, gwen that.

"I don't think gwen likes me back.. she said I was like a brother to her when she was talking to hyuck.." was all he could choke out before leaning in and crying into your shoulder, feeling the fabric of your shirt get heavy from his tears over another girl, that wasn't you.

✦.

you heard muffled grunts and groans coming from mark outside your window, rushing to it to open it for him and help him inside, noticing how he stumbles and limps into your room. pulling his mask off his face as he sits on the floor with his back against your mattress and bed frame, laying his head back while sweats drips from his forehead and he’s hissing in pain with every contact that’s made with the fresh wounds on his body.

observing his body in his suit, you noticed scratches that went through his suit, they seemed deep but not enough to have any serious injuries. shocked, you sat there, too scared to touch him in such a vulnerable state, you’ve dealt with marks small scratches and bruises a few days after his “villain” fights, but you’ve never had to deal with fresh wounds like these.

“are you gonna sit and stare or help me out here?” he said with a sarcastic tone and a slight laugh, only to be cut off by a hiss and groan of pain. that was your signal to jog towards the kitchen and get your emergency medkit, bringing it back to mark and taking out everything you would need to help him heal his open wounds.

“u-uh.. mark..?” you said quietly after making a realization, and what you got was a curious hum in response, knowing he was in too much pain to respond to your sudden concern. "you're gonna have to.. take your shirt off.. only for me to help you!" darkness was all you could see when you squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment after rushing out your sentence, only to hear a chuckle with a hint of pain coming from mark.

“you can open your eyes, you know.” you heard before peaking one eye open, only to be met with a shirtless mark and a heated blushing face. you hesitated, but started to help the boy with his cuts and bruises, blushing harder everytime you looked up and made eye contact, not knowing he was staring at you and only you the whole time you were healing him.

after many whines and hisses of pain, all bandaids and ointments were over. “thank you yn.. sometimes i think, i genuinely don’t know what i would do without you, you know? you’ve been there for me forever and for everything, even when i was sad because my mom couldn’t buy me ice cream when we were like.. 6, you shared yours with me! i feel like i would be so hopel-“ but he was cut off by your lips on his, you don’t know what got into you, but hearing him ramble on and on just pulled you in. but what you didn’t expect, was for him to kiss back so quickly.

the butterfly feeling in your stomach increased when you felt his fabric covered fingers make contact with the skin of your hips, closing the gap between your bodies. the two of you pulled away after realizing you both needed to breathe, looking at each other like you’ve been waiting a whole lifetime for this moment. snapping back into reality, you started blushing and attempted to look away, only to be brought back by mark’s index and thumb gently gripping your chin.

“don’t look away now, you meant that kiss right? because i know i did.” he said, looking for any sign of uncomfort or sarcasm in your eyes, but all he found was adoration. “of course i did..” was all you could mumble back, mark felt a weight lift off his shoulders before leaning in and resting his forehead against yours.

“you don’t know how long i’ve been waiting for you to save my heart, just like you save the city.

antoncyng ‘24 — PLEASE DO NOT STEAL OR COPY!

nini’s note — sorry the ending might be kinda rough.. i’ve had this in my drafts for a little while and have been dreading to finish it until today.. 🥲🥲

#౨ৎ antoncyng #౨ৎ antoncyng fics #౨ৎ antoncyng nct #౨ৎ antoncyng nctdream #౨ৎ antoncyng imagine #nct dream #mark lee #mark #spiderman mark #mark lee spiderman #spiderman!mark #mark lee x reader #mark x reader #mark lee x you #mark lee fic #nct dream fic #nct 127 #nct 127 fic

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self-spaghettification · 11 hours

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Looks like we’re getting a lot of crazy things in 6x05

which,

1. Considering the potential title “Moonless Night”, 6x05 will possibly be including Rayla being hurt or moon being otherwise metaphorically swallowed, (paralleling s3 swallowing/corruption of the sun’s power),

2. Considering episode 5 follows an episode titled “The Starscraper,” in 6x05 Aaravos is potentially freed at the end of 4 or during 5 and potentially possesses Callum which will lead to all sorts of trouble

3. Considering the connection of a scene between soren and viren with “until 6x05” and all the hints that the most impactful scenes between soren and viren were yet to come…. it seems likely that in 6x05 Soren and Viren will have a very emotionally charged moment together, also possibly with Claudia. Maybe with a confrontation of some kind, also involving the moon?

Let’s delve into this more though—As this potential title has ignited a spark to finally set ablaze and reveal the idea that has been percolating in my mind for months.

Moonless Night (and Why I Believe the Moon is Metaphorically Going to Be Swallowed) A S6 Speculative Meta

with arc1-arc2 parallels, norse mythology examination, reflections analysis and more

As far as I can see, the clue most directly points to Moonless Night. (Edit: which ended up being right!) And there are other reasons I’m on board.

I already went insane over this so let’s get started

A. S3-S6 Parallels

So, I’m a big fan of across arc season parallels as they’ve existed very overtly S1-S4 from the first moment, as well as some other things which in many ways are setup and reestablishment of dynamics (Rayla hesitating and breaking from her duty twice to help/see Callum instead, Harrow and Ezran respectively attempt to break free from the past but they have to acknowledge it, etc) as well as persistently in S2-S5:

and, it seems, *possibly* S3 to S6–

1. If we get another plot against Ezran that’s not a joke (as it is in s4 and many throwaway lines and jokes in tdp come back to bite us)—+“This coming season will test Ezran's pacifist instincts”

2. If Viren returns, something like this—

in contrast to the “I’m sorry it had to happen this way”/“No you’re not.”/“No, I’m not.” because Viren cannot doubt Ezran would be genuinely sorry

Viren would say I know because he gets it now, the new hesitant, less certain version who also feels bad for all he has done, but he wouldn’t have before.

SO… 3. If the Moon were to get metaphorically/literally swallowed on some level in S6, it would parallel 3x07, Hearts of Cinder.

Corruption via Aaravos’s…child.

which, coincidently, brings me to my next point!

B. Norse Mythology

I’ve briefly discussed this before here, but let’s review:

Aaravos’s similarities to Loki

Source: Twitter

But while we’re on Loki’s similarities to Aaravos, let’s consider what his other children are up to during Ragnarok, the end of the world in Norse Mythology, which seems fitting considering all the foreshadowing of what chaos Aaravos has wreaked in the past (Xadia) and present (Lux Aurea) and even future (ominous wording in the reflections) when given the chance.

Loki’s children during Ragnarok:

World Serpent — rises up from the depths, encircles the world and causes great waves and destruction (“The seas churned” 👀)

Hel — From the underworld, “leading an army of the dead, she marches against the gods, uniting with her brothers and other forces of chaos. This culminating battle signifies the cyclical nature of Norse myths; an end that's also a beginning.” [1] Speaking of which, sounds familiar, right? In Ripples:

“While one may say it ends with a sunrise, [beginning] another will insist it ends at nightfall. [end]”

“With its impact came a long and terrible night: The earth bled! The seas churned! The sun and moon hid for weeks behind the sky’s screaming storm!”

“And when the long, dark night had finally passed—for the sun must always rise, mustn’t it?—they gazed out upon an unfamiliar landscape.”

Fenrir— He was gagged with a sword and was destined to lie bound to a rock until the Ragnarök (Doomsday), when he will break his bonds and fall upon the gods. According to one version of the myth, Fenrir will devour the sun, and in the Ragnarök he will fight against the chief god Odin and swallow him. [2]

It’s interesting how Fenrir has even more parallels than Loki to Aaravos here. Trapped by a blade, chained against rocks like Prometheus (one of Aaravos’s primary inspirations) was when his liver (modern heart) was eaten every day, and when he’s freed all hell breaks loose, including swallowing people (see Zym and Aditi) and the sun. But was it him with the sun? Or…..

There’s something there about killing a god and being killed in return and making the stars fall and all the damage Claudia has suffered thus far, but anyway.

That’s right, Fenrir has two children, one who swallows the sun, and one who swallows the moon. During Ragnarok, while, also, the sea shakes. Ahem, back to this:

“With its impact came a long and terrible night: The earth bled! The seas churned! The sun and moon hid for weeks behind the sky’s screaming storm!”

So… earth blood?

Check… churning seas?

World Serpent — rises up from the depths, encircles the world and causes great waves and destruction

Check… sun and moon gone?

Check.

So, what do we do with this information?

C. Interpretation

So Aaravos with two children, one who swallows the sun, one the moon.

Swallowing the Moon

-Involving a Child

1. Most literally: Aaravos has that… homonculus child, which takes and poisons the power of the sun. Maybe we’re getting another of those? I’m honestly scared for what that actually means like is he having another kid for that because 😭

2. What I favor- a metaphor— If you can consider Claudia Aaravos’s child, well, child in law isn’t that far off for the sake of this theory I think it’s possible they team up and somehow metaphorically swallow the moon like Viren and Aaravos did in S3. ….Just taking the moon, corrupting it and using its power— like they did with the Sunfire power— to make troops invisible in their effort to conquer xadia part two (2!) (although this is probably like the nth time that Aaravos has attempted his plan.)

-not involving a child

3. it could also just be disrupting the moon nexus in some way. Aaravos tends to break reflections in one way or another, from mirrors to ripples.

in Ripples he talks about how he dislikes how the stars look down on their perfect reflection (the sea of cast out)

@parroset has written an excellent meta elaborating further on it here, but essentially, he breaks reflections. A reflection is key to the moon nexus, that lake is the moon nexus because it so perfectly reflects the moon. So… there’s something to that. And it would have to come in handy manipulating the veil between life and death.

4. Taking Luna Tenebris’s power in a flashback.

I’ve talked about why I think we’re finally getting Luna Tenebris content before here, but essentially we already got all the dragons in the 4 corners of the map via flashback or interaction, and now only she is left. A flashback on what really went down that day would be perfectly in line with us learning more about Aaravos’s past, perhaps interaction with Kim'dael as well as, hopefully, blood magic—and dark, star, and deep magic. It also fits in with swallowing the moon’s power, as she was a Moon Archdragon. Moonless night. This also ties back to the blood moon cult because they harvest the power of the moon to begin with.

Last but not least and most obvious and exciting to many,

5. Rayla= “Moon girlfriend.” Callum is already being targeted, and likely some terrible thing is going to happen to him up with the rating being up, creators crying over this episode and calling it “heartbreaking” and all of that, so swallowing the moon could be symbolism for her dying or something equally terrible (so he’s forced to exploit dark magic/Aaravos to save her.)

This also ties back to this being the episode following the star scraper and the theory that Callum is a Trojan horse and, once he’s there, all the shit is going down. Maybe Rayla gets in the way and tries to sacrifice herself. I wouldn’t be surprised. or maybe it’s an intentional harm so that Callum has to bring her back… who knows?

It is for you to think about as you see fit.

@beautifulterriblequeen also wrote about other possibilities for the Moonless night here!

D. Symbolism & Misc.

Now let’s talk about the other symbolic evidence pointing to the swallowing of the moon.

The first thing that got me hooked on this theory was actually this page, which we see Viren flipping through, and then in Callum’s sketchbook.

I already analyzed the markings surrounding Aaravos’s signature symbol, but I also found the eclipse and crescent moon especially interesting considering how important the eclipse motif has been in the series and uniquely tied to Aaravos.

Thus far I figured the moon also had to be significant right it also almost seemed to me as if both the sun and moon had a bite taken out of them.

Then, we have the Reflections.

After Darkness

“The writhing, tainted darkness of Lux Aurea’s night sky spread infinitely above him, the stars all swallowed up inside it.”

Ripples

“While one may say it ends with a sunrise, another will insist it ends at nightfall. ” (swallowed sun) (falling stars)

“With its impact came a long and terrible night/And in that endless dark the humans despaired. The humans huddled together, scarcely daring to breathe, awaiting the rise of the sun.”

which, side note- sol regem saying the sun will never rise again for me, karim saying the sun is setting on their kingdom, and aaravos telling viren that the sun will rise and he will not like augh.

Then there’s the more literal interpretations of swallowing the moon and or sun along with the stars - Consider

1, Aaravos is giant

2, Star eating sword

3, Star devourer dragons

And, let’s go back to the crescent.

Waxing Crescents are associated with growing power, which would also be fitting for Aaravos gaining power, possibly a literal powerup.

Let’s also consider what new moons mean- considering the possible name, moonless night, and all the swallowing of the moon, and starting a new cycle, new moons are certainly significant, right? Moonless night- A fresh start. Could be something!

In summary, I believe the moon will be metaphorically swallowed in S6 in one way or another.

I hope you enjoyed, and thank you for reading my thoughts! Please feel free to share any insights or reactions of your own!

#tdp meta #self spaghettification #the dragon prince #tdp s6

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danikamariewrites · 1 day

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sooo for that feyfey request.

everyone is living back in that cottage. fey is fucking that guy. but theres this woman, who is like a neighbour. she always sees fey and has a crush on her, but isaac (i think thats what his name is?) is keeping fey busy

one day, reader gathers the courage to flirt with fey

then slowly, the become friends and some time later, when fey is eating dinner with reader, reader crawls up onto the desk sensually and is being all hot and sexy

fey realises for the first time she likes this woman. its soo taboo but fey wants this

so she lets reader show her all the good stuff 😏

and then in the end its a lil fluff but they both know this wont progress further most probably 😔

(absolute filth plis im so thirsty for mommy feyre 😩😩😩(i also dont mind if its porn without plot i just need som filth 🥲))

When She Loved Me

Feyre x reader

A/n: This was the best Feyre ask I think I’ve ever received and I had to write it. I also added an epilogue-esqu ending and it’s kinda sad so I’m sorry for that but I couldn’t resist.

Warnings: oral, fingering, tribbing, angst at the end (also not fully proof read)

You rushed around the house making sure everything was perfect for when Feyre arrives. Dinner was in the oven, the living room was fully of cozy blankets, and you had turned the lights down to achieve the perfect ambiance.

The two of you met in town months ago. At first you had just waved and passed each other while you were running errands and she was trading pelts from animals she hunted. One wintery afternoon you got up the courage to finally introduce yourself.

The blue of her eyes had taken your breath away. When her rough exterior melted away and she gave you a genuine smile you couldn’t help but get lost in dreams of a future with her. Where that smile was never dulled by her hunting or family.

Tonight was the first time Feyre was coming over to hang out. You had only ever hung around in town together but you wanted one on one time away from prying, judgmental eyes. The nature of your relationship had been a little more than friendly. Sure you flirted, not thinking anything of it. Feyre had told you about her and Isaac. How he was just someone to relieve stress and blow off steam with.

The relief you felt when Feyre had said that was like a weight lifting off your chest. Since she had said that you had turned your flirtatious advances up hoping she would reciprocate. When Feyre did you were rendered speechless. The giggle that sounded from her was angelic.

A light knock on the front door had you squealing with excitement. Rushing through the house you skid to a stop, careful not to fling yourself into the door. Opening the door you’ve never seen Feyre look so happy. “Hi,” you breathed. “Hi.” Her voice light and happy. Stepping to the side you wave her in.

She looks around curiously. Her eyes wide as she shrugged her jacket off. “Your home is lovely.” You take her jacket to hang up. Gosh, how did this thing keep her warm out in the woods? The fabric was barely held together by the leather straps Elain had sewed in for her.

“Thank you. My mother has quite the eye for interior design. You should see her and my father’s room.” You joke. Feyre gives you a sad smile. As if she was remembering her old house. Guilt had your face heating. Feyre grabbed your hand giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Dinner smells wonderful.” She says, that happiness back in her voice.

You perked up at the mention of the meal in the oven. “You’re going to love it. Come,” you pull her along to the kitchen. As you ate the conversation went to weird childhood stories and Feyre’s hunting adventures. After dinner you switched to the living room, curling up in the blankets on the couch and enjoying the brownies you baked.

As the night went on your stares lingered on each other. Eyes wandering what could be seen of the others form. With each tick of the clock the two of you inched closer and closer until your thighs were touching. At the first touch you jumped a little. Only relaxing when Feyre holds your hand again.

When the clock struck midnight Feyre was lying on your chest. You absentmindedly twirled her sandy locks between your fingers. You fall into a comfortable silence just enjoying each other’s comfort. Not thinking before moving, you lean forward pressing a kiss to the top of Feyre’s head.

Shock took over as she popped her head up, eyes wide. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t know-’’ Feyre surged forward, connecting her lips to yours, effectively stopping your rambling. Your fingers go back to those sandy locks, keeping Feyre’s lips attached to yours.

The kiss was all want, need and a fight for dominance that you were determined to win. You wrap an arm around her waist, pulling Feyre up, flipping her to lay on the couch. Feyre’s breath hitches, her fingers digging into your scalp. You detach your lips from her, nudging your nose against her perfect button one.

Holding yourself back was becoming impossible. You need Feyre like you need to breathe. Every part of her is perfect and you were desperate to explore her.

You were both breathing heavily. Feyre lifts her head to peck your lips before dropping back against the couch cushion. “Do you want to keep going?” You asked, hopeful her answer would be a resounding fuck yes.

Feyre nodded vigorously. Her blue eyes glazing over with lust, “I want you, y/n.” Your lips break out into a wide smile. Climbing off of the couch you grab her delicate hand, pulling her to follow you to your bedroom. Slamming your door you turn to find Feyre laid out on your bed, only in her underthings, smirking at you seductively. In a swift motion you slip your dress off, leaving it in a puddle on the floor as you bound toward Feyre.

She lets out a giggle, the sound so sweet it almost stops you completely. It has your cheeks flushing as you straddle her hips. Feyre rests her hands on your hips, gently running them up and down your sides, reveling in the smoothness of your skin. Something flashed in her eyes, making her look anywhere but you.

“Hey,” you say softly, bringing your hand to rest on her cheek. “What’s wrong, Fey?” She squeezes your hips gently before looking into your eyes. “I just…I’ve never been with a girl before and I like you, I just don’t want to, ya know,” she rambles. You tilt your head in curiosity. “Fey it’s ok. We’ll take it slow, you just relax. I got you.” You smirk at her, leaning down to place soft, open mouthed kisses down her neck.

Moving down her body you undo the band around her breasts, stopping at the top of her underwear. You look at her through your lashes, finding her face flush, eyes half closed and lips parted. You rub her clothed cunt, making her wet spot grow with each circular motion. Feyre lets out a soft moan as you kiss up her thighs. “Please y/n, I need more, need your mouth.” She begs, throwing her head back against the pillows.

Sitting up on your knees you remove the band from your own breasts, reaching to pull Feyre’s panties agonizingly slow down her legs. Wasting no time you dive into Feyre’s dripping core, lapping at her arousal. Feyre moans out your name, gripping the sheets, her hips squirming against your face.

Capturing her clit in your mouth you let out a hum. Your eyes roll back at the taste of her plus those sweet, sweet sounds falling from her lips. “More,” she begs, “please more. Your fingers p-please.” Feyre struggles to get out. Bringing your finger to her hole you slowly work her open. “Tell me, was Issac this good with his mouth?” You ask with a teasing smirk against her pussy. She shakes her head, “N-no. Fuck no, you’re so much better y/n.”

You go back to sucking her clit, slipping another finger into her pussy. You know you hit that sweet spot (one that Issac clearly never hit) by the way she clenched around your fingers as you curled them. Feyre’s screams became louder and louder with each motion. “Come on Fey, let go.” You urge her. Arching her back Feyre falls apart on your fingers, one of her thighs trembling. Removing your fingers you lap up her release, the sweet taste of her intoxicating.

Sitting up on your knees you run your hands in a soothing motion up and down her thighs. Feyre went limp against the sheets, her chest heaving as she collected herself. Spreading her legs Feyre lets out a small laugh, “Good. I wasn’t done yet.” You laugh at her breathlessness. Throwing one leg over her hips you rest your pussy against hers, lightly rocking back and forth.

Feyre throws her head back again, leaving her neck exposed to you. You picked up the pace of your hips, leaning down to suck and nip at her the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Feyre brings her hands up to your breasts. Running her thumbs over your peaked nipples you moan against her skin at the contact.

Neither of you lasted long. Feyre’s hands felt too good, too skilled. Sharing a pillow she played with your hair as your eyes fluttered at the feeling and softness. You could get used to this. The softness of Feyre, taking care of her, having her in your arms every night. But that was a dangerous way of thinking. Maybe if everything worked out with her sisters marrying, then maybe she could be yours.

———

After that night with Feyre there were only a few more until you stopped seeing her. You had been holding back your feelings, hoping to bring it up while holding her to your chest. It had been a while since you’d been past her family’s cottage, or into town for that matter. Feyre would usually knock on your door asking you to accompany her but hadn’t in weeks.

Donning your cloak and winter boots you head out. Passing through town you heard whispers of the Archeron family name. “His boats were found.” “No, I think a beast did that. No winter winds have ever been that strong,” “I wonder when the middle one will throw a party.” “The aunt is sick I believe.”

All of these pieces yet nothing whole. The gossip made your heart pound. Picking up the pace you start running to the Archeron cottage.

Finally stopping in front of it you feel your heart stop. Your eyes wide taking in the darkness inside and the broken front door. Stepping closer you saw claw marks in the rotting wood. You stopped breathing. What the hell happened here?

“Are you looking for the Archeron’s?” You jump at the voice behind you. You turn to face the stranger, hand over your now rapidly beating heart. Clearing your throat you answer, “Yes, do you know where they are?” “Yeah, new fancy manor-lookin’ place on the other side of town.” You nod in thanks rushing off, knowing exactly where to go.

Politely knocking on the massive front door you step back and wait, twisting your gloved fingers nervously. Elain answered with a bright smile. Her eyes lit up with recognition at seeing your face. “Y/n! What a lovely surprise.” She said cheerily. “Hi, Elain. Is Feyre around?” You ask peeking over her shoulder. Elain’s face fell a little. “Oh, no, I’m so sorry. She’s visiting our aunt. She’s very ill right now so Feyre is helping around her house for a bit. I can’t believe she didn’t tell you.” She says with an air of curiosity, tilting her head a little to the left much like Feyre did when you rambled.

Tears stung your eyes at the familiar movement. You quickly blink them away, not wanting Elain to feel pity for you. “Oh, well I’m sorry about your aunt, I hope she gets better soon. Would you mind umm…when Feyre gets back will you tell her I want to see her?” “Of course!” You nod in thanks and turn to leave. Left with an empty feeling in your heart you let your tears flow freely once you’re back on the street. Why wouldn’t she tell you?

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #feyre archeron #feyre acotar #acotar feyre #feyre archeron acotar #feyre cursebreaker #feyre darling #feyre smut #feyre angst #feyre x reader #feyre x you #feyre archeron x reader #feyre archeron x you

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withlovewriting · 2 days

Text

All I Ever Knew, Only You 15: The Pickle Theory

Chapter Fifteen.

I'm stuck on you, I've got this feeling down deep in my soul that I just can't lose, Guess I'm on my way, I needed a friend, And the way I feel now, I guess I'll be with you 'til the end, Guess I'm on my way, I'm mighty glad you stayed

Summary: Hawkins was your typical quaint, mid-western town where nothing ever happened. People were born here, lived their entire lives within the town limits, and eventually died here, peacefully in their sleep. But one cold November evening in 1983 would change everything.

Despite a child with psychokinetic abilities and ravenous monsters that lacked faces, stranger things had definitely happened in the small town in Indiana. One of them being your reluctant and slightly imposed friendship with Hawkins High’s own King Bee, Steve Harrington.

Characters: Steve Harrington x Non-descriptive F!Reader (eventual)

Words: 6,354

Chapter Warnings: Fluff. Is this the beginning of the pining? Who knows... Not me... Mentions of a funeral/Barb's death/survivor's guilt. One scene in this was based on the actual scene of Steve singing 'Old Time Rock and Roll' by Bob Seger into the bat to Nancy. I also genuinely don't think I even wrote a curse word once in this chapter. Baffling, I know. Also possibly an absolute lie, too. I cba to re-read through and check.

Series Warnings: Strong language, mentions of underage drinking, mentions of drug use, canon-typical violence, mentions of alcohol abuse, mentions of possible mental health disorders, child abuse, slow burn, kinda enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, I like to call it ‘two idiots who begrudgingly befriend each other only to realize… ‘wait a damn minute…’, eventual sexual content, no use of y/n, canon-typical time-period bullshit. 18+. Minors DNI.

Previous Chapter

Chapter Fifteen: The Pickle Theory.

News around Hawkins traveled fast, especially when said news was a released recording of the U.S. Department of Energy admitting involvement in the death and cover-up of Barbara Holland. That news, in fact, went nationwide.

'Exposure to an experimental chemical asphyxiant' had been the official cause of death on Barbara’s death certificate, and even now, as you stood at her graveside, eyes practically penetrating the expensive, white, and empty coffin, guilt still nipped at your ankles. It was a feeling you were sure would remain with you until you ended up in your own — albeit, nowhere near as fancy — coffin, the shadow of guilt lurking around every corner, always in your peripheral vision, never quite able to look it in the eyes.

The ghost of Barbara Holland would haunt the town of Hawkins forever, would haunt you forever.

Standing next to your mother, you watched as the coffin was lowered into the ground, the uncontrollable sobs from Mr and Mrs. Holland, who now knew that no amount of money, and no type of professional or investigative journalist would find their daughter alive. She was dead, lost to the Upside Down forever.

Maybe believing that she had simply passed out and suffocated was the kinder, lesser of evils.

Either way, you were unable to look them in the eyes as they pulled you into a tight hug, Mr. Holland patting you awkwardly on the back as your mother — showered and relatively sober — comforted Barb’s mother, reassuring her that she too had been through the loss of a daughter, and to take it day by day. That with time it will get easier. If they needed anything, then they had her number. All of the things you’re supposed to say to someone who is burying a loved one.

Horse shit, you thought, watching them interact.

You, hell, the entirety of Hawkins knew your mother was still lost in the storm of losing a child. Of having her husband walk out. Of being condemned with a child that she wholeheartedly blamed for the death of her firstborn.

It didn’t get easier, your mother just became more inebriated.

Mr and Mrs. Wheeler had already excused themselves, the latter placing a gentle hand on Nancy’s arm as she passed. She stood shoulder to shoulder with Jonathan, downcast expressions as they spoke quietly between themselves. Steve stood a foot or so away, brows pinched together as his eyes remained on the framed picture of Barbara.

Sending a quick apology to Mr and Mrs. Holland, you made your way toward where the smaller group stood, hands in your pockets to keep the cold December chill from your fingers.

“You’re gonna tear that if you hold it any tighter,” despite your quiet mumble, the boy still flinched, eyes darting away from the picture of the redhead to meet your own, one brow now raised, “the memorial card. I don’t know what it ever did to you, but…”

“Oh,” Steve swallowed as he loosened his grip, eyes peering down at the paper, “didn’t realize.”

“Hey, we’re uh… We’re gonna head out now. Will we see you later?” Nancy questioned, her small hand on your forearm, just as her own mother had done to her.

A small huff of laughter forced its way from your chest as you shook your head, “Yeah, I don’t think so. Not really my kind of scene.”

Nancy’s forced smile matched your own as he nodded, an awkward ‘bye’ as she and Jonathan made their way toward the latter’s Ford.

“You got plans tonight or something?” Steve questioned as he shoved his free hand in his pocket.

“Uh, no. Just Nancy trying to get me to join her do-gooders club.” When Steve’s head tipped slightly to the side, you sighed and explained, “The Snow Ball is tonight. They needed volunteers but I don’t really wanna spend my evening with a bunch of middle schoolers. Plus, I have plans with Hopper. Did she manage to rope you into it?”

“Understandable,” Steve nodded, “And no. We, uh… We haven’t really spoken much since, you know…”

Whilst you and Steve had managed to keep your friendship on track the past month, the same couldn’t be said for Steve and his ex. Although Nancy didn’t explicitly tell you any information regarding herself and Jonathan and the time they spent together with Murray, it was evident that something had happened between the two, and whatever it was had put a permanent pin in her on-again, off-again relationship with Steve and even though he’d been dealing with rumors circling around the school since Tina’s Halloween party, it was obvious that Steve's feelings were still a little hurt.

“-Plus, I already have plans.”

Cocking your brow at the boy, your face remained otherwise stoic, “You have a hot date or something, Harrington?”

The boy seemed to stutter, and suddenly he found the grass under his shoes much more intriguing than he did just a moment ago before finally shrugging and repeating himself, as if you didn’t hear him the first time, “I just, uh… I have plans. You need a ride home, or…”

“Uh, no. Thanks. I drove. I’m just waiting for my Mom to finish up so I can take her to work.”

“How’s she been?”

Steve knew it was a peculiar question, and one he’d never bothered to ask before, but there had always been rumors swirling around the town of Hawkins, and he’d seen — or rather, heard — only a small portion of your mother’s drunken behavior for himself.

Your brows pinched as you watched him for a moment, almost expecting a cutting jeer to fall from his mouth as they often did with most people around town. A backhanded compliment or worse… a pitiful stare.

“She’s fine,” you shrugged, pulling down the bottom of your dress. The same dress you’d worn to Will’s fake funeral when the Upside Down was nothing more than a hypothetical, half-assed drawing on a napkin.

Steve’s mouth opened and closed, his brow furrowing as he tried to decide how to respond, but it was obvious you weren’t willing to talk about it.

“Steven, right? You’re the Harrington’s boy?”

Steve’s head turned, and a forced but nonetheless polite smile spread across his lips, one that had been enforced into him since childhood, “Yes, ma’am. Nice to meet you.”

As he shook your mother’s hand, Steve tried to ignore the cold, yet somehow clammy skin that pressed against his, and the reason it shook despite her being wrapped in an oversized coat.

Your family had been a talking point of the town ever since your grandmother lost her mind and was sent to stay in Pennhurst in 1958 before eventually being let out only to end her own life a few years later. He’d heard his mother gossip about it with her book club, joking about taking bets on when your mother would finally lose it, and if that had contributed to your father’s leaving. Although he had empathy for your mother and was trying hard to become a better version of himself, something about the way your mother gripped your bicep once she'd released his hand made him bite the inside of his cheek. It wasn’t a protective grip, it was possessive.

“It was nice to meet you, Steven” your mother quickly turned her attention toward you, “but we should get going.”

You nodded, and sent Steve a tight-lipped smile as you began to escort your mother toward the car, “Enjoy your date, Steve.”

Although your mother was at work this evening, you remained silent as you tiptoed into her bedroom, as if she would pop out at any moment and catch you red-handed.

It wasn’t often that you entered your mother's room, typically only sneaking in to borrow a piece of clothing that she wouldn’t notice or to put the laundry away. But this was an emergency.

You’d visited El — who was now legally, kind of, adopted by Hopper — after she’d called you through the radio. She wanted to talk all things Snow Ball and for some reason, she assumed you’d have all the answers.

You’d told her what you knew, but couldn’t help feeling a little rejected when you mentioned that you hadn’t actually attended any of your middle school dances, and watched the way her face fell. Changing the subject, you’d asked her what she was wearing, and she mumbled that Hopper offered to take her shopping for a dress, and although you loved Hopper, you didn’t trust his fashion choices for a teenage girl.

So here you were, carefully searching through what was maybe the only pristine thing left in this house. A simple cardboard box that housed the memories of your sister, the only place they were allowed to stay. Every picture of your sister, any real proof that she was a living, breathing person and not just a figment of your imagination lay in this one box.

Taking a deep breath, you took a moment to calm yourself, your heart feeling like it was going to burst out of your chest, ribs be damned. Unpeeling the barely sticky packing tape and gently folding back the flaps of the box, your nose wrinkled subconsciously as the musty smell of dust clouded your senses for a moment.

There, laying atop some folded clothes and items of your sisters, sat a framed photo. Your sister’s first school photo of middle school, and ultimately, her last.

Familiar eyes peered back at you, a smile so bright that it could’ve lit the world on fire if your sister had so wished it. She was like sunshine; bright and soft and warm, the saccharine to your acerbic. And when she died, she left your family with nothing but the frigid chill of your moonlight, never quite enough to defrost your mother's icy heart or to make your father stay.

You allowed your eyes to run over the picture once more before moving it to the side, pulling up the edges of the few fabric pieces that were folded neatly in the box until you found the familiar blue dress, tiny pink dots sewn onto the fabric and a matching belt loosely tied around the waist still as if it’s owner would eventually come back to claim it.

Replacing everything back the way it was — sans the dress — you pushed the box back into your mother’s closet before rushing back to your room, the door shutting with a slight slam.

Gently laying the dress over your bed, you grabbed a near-empty body mist from your desk, spraying the ‘Love’s Baby Soft’ that you'd received last Christmas over the blue dress, hoping it would cover any lingering smells that made it a little too obvious that it had been hidden away for years.

In fact, the last time you saw this dress was the evening of what would’ve been your very first Snow Ball, when your mother was trying to mangle your tiny body into it.

You were 12, and she was drunk as always, deciding that the only way you would go to the dance, was if you wore your dead sister’s dress. You screamed, and she shouted, fighting against her and the fabric that she had half pulled over your head, the thin, pink-rimmed collar almost choking you as you wrestled against her cruel hands.

Eventually, she gave up, her vision too blurred to follow you as you ran from the room, from the house… from her.

And since then, you’d had no interest in school dances.

Staring down at the fabric that linked to so many different and conflicting emotions, you chewed on your bottom lip for just a moment before moving toward your desk, hands fumbling as you moved items out of your way, eventually grabbing a blue hair clip.

Releasing a long sigh, you swallowed down any incertitude and packed the dress and the clip, into your backpack, slamming the front door behind you before grabbing your bike, and heading to Hopper’s cabin.

“I still don’t like it,” Hopper sighed, the same glare on his face that had been there since Eleven walked sauntered out of her bedroom, “You should’ve checked with me first.”

Rolling your eyes, you unbuckled your seatbelt and sent him a glare of your own, “It’s a tiny bit of make-up, Hop. You can barely even see it. But you like it, right El?”

The younger girl nodded, eyes darting across the middle school's parking lot as she tried to find a familiar face in the loitering kids that mingled about outside.

“Hey,” turning in the passenger’s seat of Hopper’s Chevrolet, you caught the girl’s attention, noting her bouncing leg, “You gonna sit out here all night, or head in, have fun, and dance the night away?”

“You want me to walk you in?” Hopper asked, his own seatbelt already unbuckled as he began to open the door, only stopping when your hand fell to his forearm.

“I’ll take her,” you told the man, lips forced into a tight smile as he watched you for a moment, only to sigh and nod.

Leaning out of his window, an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth already, Hopper called out, “I’ll pick you up at 10, sharp.”

“Got your ticket?” You asked, stopping outside the door as El turned toward you, the crumpled paper gripped in her clammy palm, “Hey, you're gonna have a great time, alright?.”

You rubbed your hands on her shoulders reassuringly before patting down her dress. Your chest somehow felt lighter, and a little heavier at seeing it again.

“I don't know how to dance,” the girl blurted out, brown eyes full of fear as if she'd only just realized, “You said I would have fun dancing. But I don't know how to dance.”

Despite her sudden desperate outburst, you couldn't contain the laughter that escaped you, “Please, I don't think Mike Wheeler of all people is gonna be a ballroom genius either.”

When El's frown remained, the only change in her was the soft pink blush over her cheeks, you let out a deep sigh, bending slightly to look her in the eyes,

“Don't overthink this, okay? You don't have to impress anyone. You don't have to prove yourself. Dance, don't dance… It doesn't matter. Do whatever you wanna do.”

A sweet smile graced her features before El pulled you in close for a hug. Squeezing her back, you fluffed her hair one last time before sending her on her way, “C'mon, you don't wanna spend the whole night out here talking to me. Go, have fun.”

You watched as she pushed through the large doors, holding out her ticket for Mr. Clarke who was manning the welcome table, only turning once to send you a quick wave, but you could tell by the amazement on her face that she had never witnessed a night like this.

Folding your arms over your chest, you watched her for a moment longer until she was fully out of sight.

"Thought you didn’t wanna spend your evening with a bunch of kids?"

The familiar voice made you swivel around quickly, eyes wide in confusion, “I know most of your friends are like, middle schoolers now, but it's kinda lame to turn up to their end-of-year dance. Newsflash, Harrington: you won't win Winter King.”

Rolling his eyes, Steve leaned over the passenger seat a little more, his now removed seatbelt allowing him to almost pop his head out of the window, “Very funny. Who are you to talk, anyway? You literally have no other friends.”

Scoffing, you feigned a glare, “Thought you said you had a hot date tonight?”

“You assumed I had a hot date. I just said I had plans.”

“And your plans were…”

“I promised Henderson a ride.”

Nodding, you checked over your shoulder just to make sure Eleven had entered the building. Although you could no longer see Eleven, you could see the familiar smile of Nancy, standing not too far from the entrance doors pouring what you assumed were cups of punch. When you returned your attention to the boy still idling in his car, you realized Steve too was watching her, “You still giving him bad advice?”

“Hey, don’t fix what ain’t broke.” Steve smiled as his eyes returned to you, but it felt a little too forced.

“I’m not sure Laurie would feel that way. Or Becky, or Amy, or-”

“Yeah, okay. Got it, thanks.” Sending you an exasperated look, Steve let out a long sigh before leaning a little further over the passenger seat, “You uh… You got plans for the rest of the evening? I said I’d drop off some of the kids after but… I’m free ‘til 10 if you wanna go get something to eat, or… whatever?”

Your face remained stoic, bar one brow raising up, “You’re not gonna drive me to the middle of nowhere and murder me, are you Harrington?”

“God, you’re so dramatic. Just… Get it. Or don’t. Whatever.”

Despite your best efforts, a smile pulled at the corners of your mouth, causing you to bite your bottom lip, “Let me go tell Hop. He’s waiting for me.”

“Yeah, okay, cool. I’ll uh, I’ll wait here, I guess…”

“Harrington?” Hopper questioned, the half-smoked cigarette hanging from his mouth as his stare turned toward Joyce.

“Yes, Hopper. Harrington. What about it?”

“And you’re just, what? Getting food? Going for a drive? I didn’t even realize you two were... friendly.”

Squeezing your eyes closed for a moment, you released a mumbled groan, “Yeah well, fighting two interdimensional demons from Hell kind of forces a bond, you know? Look, I wasn’t asking for your permission, Hop. I was just letting you know that I’ll pick my bike up tomorrow.”

Hopper’s frown deepened, his eyes seeming much darker against the night sky as you two stood in a silent standoff. Joyce’s elbow knocked into him, and the man offered out the cigarette to her, cringing slightly as she sent him a look that you couldn’t quite decode. They peered at each other a moment longer before Jim finally turned his attention back to you,

“I’ll uh, I’ll drop it at yours on my way back through. Just… Be careful, okay?”

“Thanks, will do. Night, Joyce.” You sent the woman a polite wave as you made your way back over toward the burgundy beamer, unaware of the mumbled conversation and prying eyes from the two adults behind you.

Steve almost jumped from his seat when you practically wrenched the handle from his door, gracelessly bundling yourself into the passenger seat and warming your hands on the heater as quickly as you could, his hands fumbling on the radio volume, knocking it up a little too high in his unnerved state.

Quickly lowering it back down, Steve sent you a silent glare as he started the engine, only to be met with a shit-eating grin.

Since Benny’s had closed down, The Hideaway remained one of the only places in town that served burgers. Enzo’s was way too upmarket for a greasy burger, and Steve wasn’t prepared to drive out of town just to eat, so instead he grabbed his now usual order from the Hideaway, your milkshakes, and a to-go bag with both of your burgers in — and a side portion of judgment and disgust when you ordered extra pickle in yours — and handed you the bag to rest on your legs as he started the car back up,

“We’re not just eating in the parking lot?”

“No food in the car,” Steve’s voice was monotonous, as if he’d heard, or said, the same sentence a thousand times before, “Henderson will smell it a mile away if we so much as open the bag. And then he’ll bitch about it and demand that I drive him to get his own. Which he’ll expect me to pay for.”

As Steve continued along Mulberry, you could barely keep the amused smirk from your face, “You always let a thirteen-year-old dictate your life?”

Scoffing, Steve took a sharp turn, your grip on the brown paper bag tightening just in case you lost your dinner before you were able to eat it.

“You’ve met the kid. No isn’t in his vocabulary.”

“Thirteen, Steve” you reiterated, “I’m sure even you have half a chance of winning against him in a fight.”

“Half?” He choked out, eyes darting from his windshield to you, and back again, “Please. I could kick that little twerp's ass if I wanted to.”

Scrunching your nose, you sent him an unsure glance, “I don’t know. The kid seems kinda… scrappy, you know? Like, his fighting tactics definitely include biting. Especially now he's got teeth.”

Steve hesitated for a minute, his lips pursed together as he considered your words, “I mean, yeah. I could totally see it.“

The rumble of Steve’s engine died down, turning off completely as he unbuckled his seatbelt and all but ripped the bag from your hands, exiting his car and making his way toward the trunk. Once seated, Steve pulled open the bag, waiting to hand you your own burger and shake as he watched you all but clamber onto the back of his car.

Unwrapping your burger and taking a bite, you finally took in your surroundings, a frown settling on your forehead, “Steve, did you bring me to Lover’s Lake?”

Almost choking on his too-big of a bite of burger, he scrambled for his milkshake, finally sending you a glare when he’d managed to dislodge the patty from his throat, “Oh my god. Not for that reason. Get your mind out of the gutter. It’s just quiet up here, you know? Pretty at night, too. I come out here sometimes to clear my head.”

“Just know that Hopper taught me three different ways to rupture a testicle-”

“Jesus, I’m not… That wasn’t my intention, alright? So please, for the love of god, leave my testicles alone,” Steve cringed, his legs instinctively shuffling closer together, “Plus my spot is Skull Rock. I kind of invented it, you know?”

Taking a sip of your milkshake, you sent him a dubious glance, “You invented a rock?”

“No, obviously not. But I, you know… It’s a popular make-out spot because I made it popular.”

“Wow, what a legacy.”

After rolling up the paper his burger had been wrapped in and throwing it back into the bag Steve cleared his throat as he looked up to the night sky. It was a relatively clear night, allowing the stars to shimmer brightly against the dark sky,

“You remember the 1979 Snowball?” When you remained silent, Steve continued, “Missy Goldstein drank way too much punch and threw up all over like, half the dance floor.”

A small chuckle escaped your chest, imagining the poor girl — hair in bunches and a nose that seemed to always be blocked — and the embarrassment she must’ve felt that night. You weren’t even there, but you’d heard the giggling about it even after the winter break.

“Oh my god, do you remember-”

“Steve, I’ve never been to a school dance, so no I don’t remember anything.”

The boy’s face scrunched slightly as if he was trying to wrack his brain for an image of you at any of the school dances, but you knew no matter how hard he’d try, the boy didn’t even know of your existence two years ago. As if he’d also come to this conclusion, Steve’s face returned to a more neutral expression,

“Not your kind of scene?”

You felt your shoulders tense slightly as you shrugged them, “I mean, I only really had two friends. Barb always went away to her grandparents over the holidays, and Jonathan wasn’t really the biggest fan of dances. At least, I guess, he wasn’t.”

Steve nodded, his face falling slightly at the mention of the boy and how quickly Jonathan was willing to change his habits for Nancy. Steve thought about how he’d originally signed up with Nancy back in mid-October to volunteer at the Snowball, and how he’d willingly offered to sacrifice his evening to hang up middle school kids' jackets and coats and listen to Madonna on repeat just to spend a little more time with the girl.

The quiet sounds that trickled out of the open front doors of Steve’s car caught his attention, the familiar lyrics of Madonna's ‘Holiday’ playing from his radio already half-way through by the time he'd pushed himself from the trunk of his car and made his way around to the front, turning the volume up.

As he made his way back, your eyes darted between his own and the outstretched hand awaiting yours. When you didn't move he rolled his eyes, “Get your ass off the car and dance with me.”

In stunned silence, you allowed Steve to lead you toward the front of the car, headlights dimmed but still on as you watched him move, imagining his lanky pre-teen limbs doing the same dance movements, albeit probably a little more awkwardly back then, “Oh my god, I… No. I'm not doing this-”

You could barely step back toward the car before he grabbed your wrist, pulling you a little closer to him as he waved your limp arm around in the air, “C'mon, don't be a party pooper. Dance with me! Holiday, celebrate!”

Despite the secondhand embarrassment that flooded your veins, you couldn't hold in the laugh that crawled up your throat, listening to him sing with a spirited fervor you'd never witnessed from the boy before.

Passionate enough, that after animatedly rolling your eyes, you finally gave in to his ridiculousness, your embarrassment still evident in your timid moves, but you were moving nonetheless.

As the song began to die out, you could barely keep your laughter in. Steve had spun you, shook you, and yanked at your arms until you were moving on your own accord.

By the time the next song began to play — Lionel Ritchie's ‘Stuck On You’ crooning through the open doors of Steve's car — you were both out of breath, your hand still held in his loose grip.

Feeling his thumb graze the back of your hand before his grip eventually tightened, he pulled you toward him almost bashfully, close enough that you could smell the familiar remnants of fabric softener.

Never in a million different lifetimes would you predict this to happen tonight.

“You okay?” His voice was soft, barely audible over the sound of Lionel as he sang about leaving on a midnight train, but somehow still made you jolt slightly, cringing when you felt his shoe underneath your own.

“Uh, yeah. Fine. I'm… I'm fine. Just not really used to… this kind of dancing, I guess.”

Your eyes screwed shut at the wobble in your voice. God, you were so embarrassed. Yet here he was — Steve Harrington with all of his charm — and suddenly you had no doubt as to why he'd won homecoming king, or how he’d won the attention of the girls of Hawkins High.

“It's my favorite kind,” the vulnerability was so evident in his voice that you were surprised he didn't shove you away and make a dash for his car, leaving you behind.

“Somehow, I can't imagine King Steve slow dancing at prom like this.”

You didn't even need to explain, because although his fingers gently gripped your waist and your hands rested over his shoulders, they were the only parts of you that were touching, “Gotta leave room for Jesus, right?”

Trying to cover up your laugh with a cough you shook your head, finally staring into his coffee-colored eyes, “Didn’t take you for the God-fearing type. You're a whole new man, Harrington. Who'd have thought?”

Pulling back slightly, Steve watched you closely, his soft eyes glancing over your features as though he was mapping them into his memory. Apparently, he wasn't too upset with his personality change. Before he could speak, the radio host cut in, his voice all too peppy for your liking as he announced the time.

“We, uh… We have to go get the kids.” You moved away from the boy’s embrace, trying — but failing — to stop staring at his soft, winsome smile before stepping back toward the trunk of the car, grabbing the brown bag now full of empty paper and cups and throwing it into the foot well of the passenger seat.

“Maybe a little tardiness will help Henderson be more grateful about all the free rides he's getting.”

Laughter fell from your lips as you buckled yourself in, “Possibly. But do you really wanna deal with an annoyed Max?”

“She can't be much worse than you, can she?” Smirking despite his words, you gave him a half-hearted swipe on the arm.

It turns out, Max wouldn't be the issue.

She stood happily chatting with the group, the icy tension between herself and El finally seeming to thaw, partially thanks to the way Max's eyes would consistently flicker toward Lucas who looked more like a lovesick puppy as time went on.

Dustin, however, furrowed his brows the moment Steve's beamer came into view. Steve had agreed to drop back any of the kids who needed a lift, but between Hopper and Joyce it was barely necessary, and only Dustin and Max made their way to the car.

“Took you long enough,” the boy heaved himself into the car, leaving the door open for Max to climb in after as she made her slow departure from the group.

“Please, you've barely been waiting five minutes-”

“Hairs looking great, Dustin,” you interrupted, hoping to stem their inevitable argument in its tracks.

“Between you and Harrington, I think we have the world's supply of hairspray in one car-” Max joked, her cheeks slightly flushed.

Cutting her off, you caught Dustin's side-eye from the door mirror, “If it's so unbearable, why didn't you get a lift home with Lucas?”

“Hey, man, not cool-”

“-Henderson.”

The car remained silent for a moment before the boy finally sighed out an apology that Max begrudgingly accepted, her sapphire eyes glued on the window though clearly not paying much attention to the passing neighborhoods, any sense of joy she’d had getting in the car now completely diminished.

Pulling up outside 4819 Old Cherry Lane, you all turned toward the house when Max let out a frustrated huff, noticing the light on in the lounge. As Max clambered out of the car, a quick thank you on her tongue, the front door opened revealing Billy, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and a puff of smoke surrounding him as he stared out toward the car, barely dodging Max's body as she prepared to shoulder past him.

“God, what is his deal?” Steve asked, his voice low as his dark eyes darted between you and the boy who continued to peer into the car.

Tearing your eyes away from Billy, you shook your head, “Hell if I know.”

Steve stared down Billy for just a moment longer before pulling away and heading towards the Henderson household.

“So,” Steve began, thumbs casually tapping the steering wheel, “the whole outburst earlier? Not okay, dude.”

“I know, I just…” Dustin's face fell as he tried to find the right words, “It didn't go exactly as planned. I mean, I treated her mean, and it definitely didn't keep her keen.”

Whacking Steve's upper arm, the boy hissing dramatically at you as if it had hurt, you turned in your seat to face Dustin, “Your first mistake was listening to Harrington.”

Blinking a few times, the boy remained quiet, causing you to huff and turn back around, ignoring Steve glancing toward you every now and then, “Plus, the prehistoric and misogynistic notion that treating people you like badly is normal, is stupid. It's not gonna make them like you back.”

“Like… Like pulling a girl's hair in the playground?” Dustin asked, the clogs in his brain finally starting back up.

“Pull my hair in the playground, and I'll punch you in the throat. But… yeah. Just like that. Or, you know, acting like you don't care.”

The latter of your sentence was aimed at Steve, along with a sharp glare. He at least had the decency to look ashamed, “Look, I'm sorry Henderson-”

“No, no… It's fine,” Dustin waved off his apology, “Turns out she already likes someone else anyway, so I never really had a chance.”

Your brow furrowed, eyes softening at the boy's words, “Look, Dustin. I know it totally sucks right now, but you'll meet someone. And I'm sure they'll be totally psyched about whatever interdimensional creature you show her.”

“I guess…” Dustin was quiet for a moment, eyes staring out of the window to his left before they met Steve’s in the rearview mirror, this time accompanied by a deep glare, “Did you guys get burgers without me?”

The drive to Dustin’s house passed by in silence. Mrs. Henderson’s downstairs light was off, but you could see the light from her television set casting the room in a soft glow.

“Can you walk me to the door?”

Steve’s face pinched, a mixture of annoyance and confusion flashed across his once soft features, “Uh, no-”

“Not you,” the boy stressed as if he were offended before peering around the console to see you a little better, “you.”

Your brows were in your hairline as you unbuckled the seatbelt, Steve’s frown only deepening, “Henderson, it’s literally right-”

“-Thanks for the ride, Steve.”

You trailed after the boy, confusion still etched on your face but Dustin didn’t give you a moment to question his ulterior motive, “So you and Harrington hung out tonight?”

Blinking a few times, as if that would help you understand the underlying tone in his voice, you kept your eyes to the ground, watching your shoes as they led you up the familiar path, “Uh, yeah. I dropped El to the dance so we had time to waste.”

“Together.”

Rolling your eyes your hand shot out, gently halting his movements as you grasped his elbow, “Seriously, Dustin. Whatever it is, just spit it out.”

Biting his bottom lip as he took the time to inhale — and exhale — deeply, his eyes shot toward the maroon beamer, noting Steve’s curious gaze on you both, “I just… Everyone knows what Steve’s reputation with the ladies is like, and Nancy only broke it off with him like, barely two months ago, and I know she’s with Jonathan now, but-”

“Dustin,”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt, alright? And I don’t want him to get hurt either.”

You remained quiet for a moment, but your eyes softened as you looked down at the boy, “Dustin… It’s sweet that you’re concerned for me, and for Steve. But we’re just hanging out as friends, alright?”

When he cocked a brow at you, you couldn’t help but hold in the small huff of laughter that escaped you, “Seriously. Nothing is going on here.”

“I just… I like when we all hang out, and I definitely like the free rides he gives us to the arcade. And I just… I don’t want anything to mess it up, or anyone,” he sighed, sending a pointed look toward the car.

Turning, it was clear Steve was trying his best to lip-read one-half of your conversation, and you were certain if you stayed out here any longer he’d be hanging out of the car in an attempt to satiate his inquisitiveness.

“C’mon, Dustin. We’ve all seen the girls he’s dated before. I mean, Nancy Wheeler? I’m definitely not his type."

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short-”

You, at least, realized this wasn’t a conversation you intended to have with a thirteen-year-old and cut him off quickly, waving a hand dismissively, “Yeah, yeah. Keep your pep talk for another time. If you stay out here any longer either your mom or Steve is gonna have an aneurysm.”

Dustin pulled you into a tight hug, one you couldn’t help but reciprocate before bidding you goodnight.

All but falling back into the BMW, Steve was already questioning you before you’d even shut the door, “God, he really chewed you out over those burgers, huh?”

Trying to glance at him as inconspicuously as possible as you buckled up, you watched as the lights from passing vehicles danced across his features, the soft glow causing his honey eyes to appear hazel, “Yeah, he uh… He definitely had some opinions to share.”

Rolling his eyes, Steve sighed, “God, he really needs to tone down the dramatics.”

Ten minutes ago, you would’ve laughed. Told him that he had some audacity to call anyone else dramatic. But ten minutes ago, Dustin hadn’t questioned you over your blossoming friendship. Ten minutes ago, he hadn’t practically called you a rebound for Nancy. Hell, a rebound for Tommy and Carol, too.

It stung to think that there was a high possibility that Steve was only hanging out with you because he’d ditched — or been ditched by, once Billy Hargrove had come to town — his friends. Jesus, a little over a year ago he would barely blink at your existence, and you were fine with that. King Steve and his group of followers weren’t people you wanted in your life. You didn’t want to be his friend back then, either.

So, why now, did he suddenly want to be yours?

“I can see the smoke coming from your ears.”

“Hmm?”

Releasing a small laugh, he pulled up outside your house, the once peaceful silence of the car now feeling suffocating.

“Your brains working overtime. What’s got you frying your mind?”

Sending him a tight-lipped smile, you shrugged, “Nothing, it’s… It’s nothing. Thank you for tonight, Steve.”

His mouth hung open, half ready to respond but you’d exited the car a lot quicker than he’d expected. Turning in his seat, he watched as you ran toward your front door, quickly unlocking it and slipping away into the dark house.

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