Here, us, a smudge against the stillness, tucked under a lavender sky, at the end of an adventure we have found a place to call home, even if just for the night.
Pull off your boots and socks and the day with them, you have been here before, around a campfire that will forever sound like your first sip of beer, and taste like your first broken heart - sparks jump up desperate to join the stars, both dead before we know it, but we’re not, only bruised and bitten, suffocated under wool.
There’s strange comfort in the sting of smoke in your eyes in the way it pulls at your skin, draws you in the heat sitting heavy on your shoulders, each drowsy breath sinking to warm your bones, is it this or the hip flask that is making you more porous to ghost stories?
Don’t worry so much about remembering, you will remember, you always do, yes, the sky is so pretty, but your friends are talking.
Hey! I was wondering if you could write a fic where the reader is recruited to fight in civil war with Steve and she ends up fighting peter and while fighting they spark up a conversation and become friends? And then soon they become more than friends?
going back to peter in civil war and trying to bring out his more rookie/dorky side was fun but i went back and forth with a ton of ideas for this fic, i hope it turned out good enough and isn’t trash like me :( but don’t forget to request a fic if you’d like and follow!
The airport terminal was ripped into pieces as the minutes went by. The battle between Stark and Rogers had spread like a disease, influencing the whole team to pick sides and fight until one victor remained. I was among that group, suddenly finding myself fighting against the people whom I held dearest to my heart, supposedly helping Captain in this messy situation.
My back was pressed up against Wanda’s, circling around to defy anyone that came near us. T’Challa had tried his best to come and toy with us, my spine shivering once I heard the claws come out of his suit and pounce towards Wanda and I, only to be stopped by the force of her hands. I watched as his body flew across the premise, landing on pieces of debris.
“(Y/N). Spider-Man coming for you from Eastside.” Carter said over the intercom.
“Spider what?” I furrowed my brows, turning around only to get swooped into the air.
premise:(name) is dustin’s sister and they decide to watch movies all night. what (name) doesn’t know is that dustin invited steve, too
a/n:this was supposed to be shorter, like to paragraphs short, but… also, requested by:Hey I loved your Steve x Reader where reader is Dustin’s sister’s fic. Can you do more of it please? ( @queeeenofscots ) / can you plz do more dustinssister!reader x steve imagines??? thanks ily <3 (anon)
if you like my stuff and want to support me, don’t forget to treat me to a KO-FI! take part in the 7K followers gift HERE!
A family night. Well, more of a sibling night. Mom is out
of town with a couple of friends of hers (Mews death had really taken a toll on
her). You and Dustin are left to your own devices, which means movie marathons
and junk food all night. Falling asleep is also a no go because you swore to
draw on his face with a sharpie if he even closed his eyes for a second. The
same goes for you, of course. Granted, for being seventeen you sure can be
childish sometimes. But you can’t really blame yourself for that, or wanting to
spend more time with your brother. The two of you had always been close, but
you drifted away when you grew into a real teen. Naturally the Demogorgon
business brought you two together pretty quickly and neither of you intend to lose
Dustin picks between a few horror movies you had rented
earlier that day as you heat up the popcorn, “Hey, (Name), how do you feel
about Halloween?” Dustin asks from
You make a face, “Not good.”
“Perfect. We’re watching this one.”
You surpass the urge to roll your eyes and you grin
and take the KFC you ordered out of those meek paper bags. As you turn off the
lights in the kitchen, with one hand holding plates and the other grasping a
big bottle of soda, you move into the living room as Dustin sets up the movie, “Just
try not to scream.” Dustin says, fiddling with the VCR.
“Pretty sure you’ll be the one that’s screaming.”
The doorbell rings and makes a shiver shoot up your
spine. Instinctively you look at the
looming front entrance and the dark night pooling behind it. You glance at
Dustin but he doesn’t even look your way, mumbling something about ‘Stupid fucking movie why don’t you work?!’
so you set down the food and slowly make your way to the door. Right, maybe
turning off all of the lamps so only the TV screen lights up the room with its
ghostly bleak light and that weird scratching noise wasn’t the best idea. But
it’s not like a Demo-dog can ring a doorbell, right?…Right?
Scolding yourself for being paranoid, you swiftly
unlock the door and with a deep breath open it fully. The cool air pinches your
cheeks red as you meet eyes with deep brown ones. Something clicks in your mind
and you can’t help but grin at the visitor, recalling all those moments he had
pulled you away from the mission just to talk or be close to you. Steve
Harrington stands on your porch with a lazy smile on his lips and his hands
shoved into his pockets. You make a mental note to thank Dustin later, because
you sure as hell didn’t invite your crush over.
“…I was told there will be KFC.” Steve states.
“Who gave away this information?” You wonder, stepping
aside to let him in. With a light shrug he enters and beelines for the couch.
I never reveal my sources, (Name).”
Soon you all squeezed on the small couch. Dustin in
one end, you in the middle, and Steve in the other. After fighting over the
popcorn and the abundance of puns Steve kept saying, a hush fell over your
small group as the movie started. You were immediately sucked in and a bit
terrified. You never could handle scary movies. And now that you literally had
the opportunity to live out a real life scary movie with the Demo-dog business,
you still find scary movies, well, scary. You pull the warm blanket closer to
your lips as you are ready to hide behind it at any given moment.
Steve notices your terrified expression, and on a
different occasion he wouldn’t find it as cute as he does now. You lean into
him a bit when Michael Myers shows up. Something swells in his chest, something
light and fuzzy and he can’t help but smile a little. For a full minute he
ponders should he do the old ’yawn-put-my-hand-around-her-shoulders’ shtick. He
conducts that would be pretty stupid and awkward so he just pretends to shift
in his seat and drapes his arm over your shoulders anyway. You look at him. He
pretends that nothing happened and gives you a playful glance.
Half-way through the movie you grew comfortable enough
to rest your head on his chest. Steve’s fingers played patters on your skin,
played with your hair almost subconsciously, but his eyes never once left the
screen. When the clock struck 1 o’clock and the screen cut to black – the movie
was finally over and you can take a breather, - you and Steve had to surpass a
laugh at Dustin’s snoring. In hushed murmurs the two of you moved and Steve
took up the job of picking Dustin up and bringing him to his room. With the
blanket wrapped around your shoulders you waited him to return, and honestly,
nearly swooned at how domestic he is.
Once he returns he shoves his hands into his pockets
and looks around, almost as if trying to think of an excuse to stay. In lazy
steps he approaches you and you have to bite down a smile, “I should…probably go now.” He says slowly,
testing the waters. You flick your brows upwards.
“You sure?” You ask, “There are two more movies left.”
“You know, I always considered myself a patron of the
arts so yeah, I say I could stay. With you. T-To watch the movies. If you don’t
“No, I don’t. Trust me, I don’t.”
Steve makes quick work of setting up the VCR as you find
a good spot on the couch. You fluff the pillows and can hardly contain the
excitements that’s practically radiating from you. Now there’s way more space
to move around, but he sits close to you and you throw your blanket on the both
of you to keep warm, if that is even needed. Honestly, you just want to share
something with him. Be as close as you can possibly be without going overboard
with your feelings. You have a small hint that he may feel the same way, but
then again, you don’t want to ruin this – whatever this is you have with him –
by tuning all mushy and sappy and kissy. Not that turning kissy would be a bad
thing, now that you really consider it.
The movie starts in bright flashes and loud sounds and
you frown softly. You feel Steve’s arm drape over your shoulders again and you
turn your head to him. A kaleidoscope of colors shine on his face – it almost
appears mesmerizing – as the thought of the two of you being completely alone
finally sinks in. A spark lights up your chest and fuels your whole body with
the need to kiss him. Your gaze roams from his eyes to his lips and back, an
action he notices and smirks at, as you lean in ever so slightly and asks, “…Patron
of the arts? Really?”
“I lied.” He grins, “Sorry.” He murmurs, leaning in
and capturing your lips in a long overdue kiss.
The drip-drop sound of the summer rain splattering off the red umbrella shielding her was comforting, and loud enough to drown out the sound of her heels squelching in the mud. Beside her walked her source of bodily warmth in the form of Kakashi Hatake, the Sixth Hokage.
It was probably a good thing that the streets were deserted at this time of the day because the infamously lazy Hokage would’ve made quite the sight accompanying the rosette, umbrella clutched in hand. Sakura had no doubt in her mind it would’ve caused at least some traffic.
“Maybe I should’ve assigned someone else for this mission.” He said quietly, she almost didn’t hear him. “Kakashi it’s just a diplomatic mission. Easy stuff."
Sakura chided, her elbow easily finding purchase in his side. "Quit worrying, I’ll be back in a week tops.”
“I’m not worrying.” He immediately disagreed, which was in itself hilarious but she decided to let it go this one time, especially since he carried it on with a quiet: “I guess… well, I’ll miss you."
sun through the houses - demonstrated with abstract writings (through the eyes of a young poet)
sun in the first house: the most golden light of all. creative spirits spill out of their mouths and they become the light they create. running without stopping, passes beyond peak level of all identity - formless light running chaotically into eternity
sun in the second house: a paint covered abundance of life, shimmering with jewels and walking with spirit. becoming their surroundings through grounding forces that have the ability to change the colour of the skies. speaking to the earth and finding themselves in it - a sober empathy rooted under ground
sun in the third house: the arms cut the air and everything that passes through it, their fingers typing history into creation. chaotic intellect, words running through their bodily veins like an electric shock of sunlight. speaking themselves into existence - a flighty dash of colour unreachable by anything but mind
sun in the fourth house: all very quiet, dark blue, the sun illuminates the interstellar cosmos that is rooted in the heart. reaching for others and breathing life into them with touch, growth through feeling and searching. stand still and listen to the ocean - a blinding light that sparks up the eyes, and resounds in the heart
sun in the fifth house: creation embodied, fierce and dignified. a royal light - performing themselves into existence. they are the sun, they are the light, so warm. an honest confidence that makes the mind tremble and the heart pump faster. skill and talent hits like lightning - worshipping the sun with offerings of life and wonder, an angel
sun in the sixth house: the veins and linguistics of humanity, found in the light reflecting from the vase, the sun-rise bleeding into the kitchen. a simplicity that is harnessed from a hidden chaos, draws from life and offers it back seven fold with a serving heart that bleeds willingly for the world. an intimate and warm familiar light - runs through our blood, is the aid that heals and brings us to ground
sun in the seventh house: connections that buzz between invisible lines across the universe, offers equilibrium and hope. finds themselves in reflections and in pieces of others, two watery mirrors opposing one another, creating light and solace in-between. an uncontainable love - where the sky turns light blue at the edges, that’s where you’ll find me
sun in the eighth house: an enveloping dark blanket of injuring intimacy, oh god the rhythm and melody of the hermit’s cries who finds home in the darkest places. holding blades and embracing them, until they bleed with existential love; a pure understanding for faith and the peace of death. the peak of orgasm mimics death. a small shard of god - makes even the sun tremble, as the darknesses embrace and extinguish him
sun in the ninth house: as you look over the hills and the mountains, and see the sun shining between the canyons, you see life. a spiritual altruism that longs to experience the world. a smile brighter than two suns. nature is home, and has a lot to teach. a raging and powerful peace - the archer shoots an arrow into the sky, another sun emerges
sun in the tenth house: over the earth is a guardian. a calm look gazes over it. one hand holds a throne, the other, a tempest. the sun shines over the cold and hard surfaces and turns them into works of art, sculptures, architecture. a divine blessing of teaching and authority - the kind of energies that teach trees to grow themselves back into life during spring
sun in the eleventh house: in the midst of the city, a protest burns and seeps through the concrete they fight for. indescribable passion and friendship meet for one cause - togetherness. in the heart of those people, thats where you live. an urn filled with radiant water spills over the world and it nourishes it, protects it. a confident and selfless intellect - living amongst the people, you’re recognised in the stars
sun in the twelfth house: a painting somewhere is admired by a little boy. as he pours his eyes into it, it awakens. the landscape moves and he loses himself in the emotion. there, he looks into the sky, and meets god. a phenomenal world that language can’t explain, doesn’t materialise on earth. the sun illuminates the dreams and lights up the soul, a simple and pitiful excuse to a whole land worshipping the magic - the colours blue, pink and green circulate below the ocean. find me there
written by @plutozens - i am a new blog so if you could support me with a follow or a reblog, it would be so much appreciated :~)
Summary: It’s set a year after Season 2 has finished and you’re a senior in high school who’s often getting into trouble with the law for petty crimes. And Hopper usually gets you out of trouble. Then one night the new officer Steve Harrington joins him.
Words: 1.7k (YIKES)
Warnings: Mild swearing, mild mentions of smoking, hints towards abuse. Slightly OOC Steve
A/N: Okay so this is the first time I’ve ever written anything so please go easy on me, I just love Steve and I’ve had this idea in my head for a few days so I had to write it down.
You sit on the cold step outside the gas station. Mr Pritchard stood looming over you smugly, as the Chevrolet Blazer pulls up, ‘Hawkins Police Dept.’ printed on the side. Parking itself roughly. Chief Hopper steps out of the vehicle quickly reaching into his pocket to his packet of cigarettes, he removes one and places into his mouth. He walks over to you whilst sparking up. There’s a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. The passenger door suddenly opens, startling you, it was usually just Hopper himself who dealt with you.
Steve Harrington? That’s new. You chuckle slightly as he walks to join Hopper stood before you. He’s staring at you in confusion. You scoff and hang your head. “This is the third time this month you’ve been caught shoplifting (Y/N).” Hopper says as he blows smoke out of his mouth. “I’m starting to think you’re enjoying the excitement.” He chuckles.
“I’d raise my hands in defeat if this asshole,” you say jerking your head towards Mr Pritchard “hadn’t tied my arms in front of me with fucking rope.” Hopper glares at Pritchard, the old man crosses his arms in defiance to Hopper. He huffs slightly and begins to explain to Hopper that you had been trying to run away. Bullshit. Everyone knew you didn’t run once you were caught. As Hopper and him get into an argument you lean back and glance at Steve as he’s scribbling furiously in a notepad. The khaki coloured uniform he’s wearing looks freshly starched, his name tag shines under the glare of the street-lights. His hair is pushed back and looks neat, except for the strand that’s fallen out of place. It bounces in time with his writing.
“You, er, don’t need to do that”
“Huh?” He says stopping mid-word on the page. He stares at you confusedly.
“He never presses charges against me. I usually just get a two week ban.” You tell him, grinning. A small smile tugs at his lips. “That’s what you get for shoplifting a packet of Salem's’ I guess.”
“Salem’s? Refreshing. Wouldn’t have pinned you for a menthol kind of girl” You both laugh. “Well, Hop- I mean, the Chief told me I should write everything down…” He says placing the pen in between the pages. He closes the notepad, holding it in his left hand. He stands awkwardly waiting slightly too close to Hopper. You’re shocked, since when did Steve Harrington want to be a cop? It was unusual to say the least, you always figured he’d end up at an Ivy League college. Yet here he was standing before you looking slightly uncomfortable. He’d been in the grade above you, and was ten times more popular than you were. The ‘King’. That was till Nancy Wheeler broke up with him, started dating the Byers kid, and he faded into obscurity. You’d still see him in passing but he’d mainly kept to himself focusing on his studies, always in the library. You’d heard rumors he was friends with some fourteen year olds, but you didn’t know him well enough to find out if they were true or not.
“Do want me to untie you?”
“What?” You ask as you realize you hadn’t been paying attention.
“The rope. Do you want me to untie it?” He asks again. You look at his hands. His notepad, you notice, is safely stowed away in his breast pocket.
“Oh, sure. Yeah, please. That would be great.” You say stuttering over your words slightly. You internally kicked yourself. You can’t believe you’re getting nervous over Steve fucking Harrington of all people. He bends down slightly, you’re inches apart, you can feel his breath on your cold hands as he reaches for them. You lift them up slightly from your lap. He starts to try and unknot the large knot that Pritchard had tied it with. He pauses and looks up at you, smirking. He lowers his voice.
“Now, you’re not going to dash the moment it’s unravelled are you?”
“On my honour.” You whisper. You smile at him.
“Oh, were you a Girl Scout.” He asks as he starts to work on untying you again.”
“Unwillingly, but yeah I was for about five years. Prettttttttttty sure, I sold you some Thin Mints once.” You told him struggling back a laugh.
“What, really? How old are you?” He moves his hands away from yours. You grin at him.
“I’m seventeen, but my birthdays in a week. I figured you wouldn’t recognize me.” He snickers quietly and slowly begins to tackle the knot again. You watch his hands move across the rope, grazing your wrists lightly, sending shivers up your arms.
“No I’m afraid I don’t think I’ve seen you around, I know I’d remember if I had someone like you before.” You look up at lock eyes with him. The rope around your wrists falls into your lap. Steve takes both your wrists in his hands and looks and the marks left on them. He rubs the rope burn with his left thumb. His brow furrowed, he opens his mouth as if to say something.
“Alright! I won’t press any further charges, just tell her that she needs to stay off of my property. For good this time, I’m giving her a permanent ban!” You both gaze up at the two men who had been having a heated debate about your actions.
“That seems fair. You hear that (Y/N)? You’re permanently banned from this gas station.” Hopper tells you whilst Steve helps you to your feet. “Permanent means no entry, and no sneaking in with a hat and sunglasses on like you did at the convenience store down street. Steve glances down at you with an amused look etched across his face.
“You really did that?” He says questioning you.
“I thought it was a good idea at the time. I was very mistaken.” You tell him with a huff as you fold your arms, the temperature had dropped quite drastically. He leans his head back laughing, his hair moves like it has a mind of its own.You stare at him in awe. He is annoyingly pretty. You think to yourself. Boys like him shouldn’t be so pretty.
You bite your lip to stop yourself from joining him in his laughing fit. Instead you peer over at The Chief who’s not paying attention and is instead staring at his watch. He walks up to you and gently takes you by the arm and leads you towards the vehicle.
“We need to be leaving, its 9pm and I need to pick up El- I mean, Jane from Mike’s after dropping (Y/N) at her house.” He tells Steve who nods and makes his way over to the car, he gets in and you can see he’s still beaming. “See you later Fred.” Hopper says to Mr Pritchard as he opens the door for you.
“Bye Fred!” You say as Hopper pushes you into his car. Mr Pritchard walks into the gas station ignoring your exaggerated goodbye.The door slams behind him the car shaking slightly. He puts the keys into the ignition and sets off driving in the direction of your house. The mood in the car is some what hostile. You go to make a smart remark to relieve tension, but Hopper stops you.
“Whatever you’re about to say (Y/N), save it. This is your final warning. Like I said earlier this is the third time this month that someone’s stopped you shoplifting. I’m sure you’ve done it more you just haven’t been caught. I’m worried about you kid.” He gazes at you in the rear-view mirror, you turn away so you don’t make eye contact. “Next time I pick you up, you’re going to be in handcuffs. You understand?” You nod, there’s a prick behind your eye. Tears begin to well up in your eyes.
“I’m sorry… Sir.” The air is suddenly as icy as it is outside, despite the heating sputtering it’s warm breath around the car. You zone out and begin to stare outside, watching houses as they pass by. Wondering if their teenagers were as troublesome as you were. You’re startled as a tear falls onto your cheek, you quickly go to scrub your eyes. Uncaring if you smudge the eye make-up you have on. You didn’t want to let Hopper down, he’d looked out for you each time there had been an incident. And yet you knew he was serious this time despite always telling you it was the final time he was clearing up after your messes. Somehow the presence of Steve made you embarrassed. Why do I even care? I don’t even know him. You think to yourself. And yet looking at the wing mirror and seeing him give you a reassuring smile was comforting, you return it sadly and turn to stare out the window again.
As the car drove up to your house the lump in your throat grew. It was fear. Fear of what was waiting for you at home. The lights were on meaning you were in for a rough ride. You sit forward as the car draws to a halt. Wincing as your hand touches the cool metal of the handle.
“Tell your old man to go easy on you.” Hopper says to you. Without turning to face him you open the door getting out.
“Thanks for the ride boys.” You say plastering a fake smile across your lips as you slam the door shut. The grin instantly drops from you face as you make your way up to you red front door. You can feel both Jim and Steve’s eyes watching you.
“Do you think you could get me any of those Thin Mints? I’ve got a real craving!” You hear Steve shout to you. Turning to face him, he’s beaming from ear to ear. You start laughing, you flash him the middle finger and give him a sarcastic smile as you close the door. Blocking you off from the world. You place your hands on the door and lift your eye to the peep hole to watch as Hopper’s car rolls out of sight. You sigh as you hear angry footsteps approach you. Grabbing at your arm, pulling it from the door.
I’m just glad he didn’t try to force her into their relationship
it makes me so beyond happy that instead of poking or prodding or prying during a (relatively long) period when she was decidedly not okay he just made sure that she knew he was by her side and eventually she felt secure enough in that to let him in on her own. that’s how real love blossoms.
“Okay okay okay so I saw your post about writing for other fandoms and I have a Steve request (from Stranger things) okay so like Steve has a crush on the reader and the reader has a crush on Steve and they’re too shy to admit it so Dustin and/or Jonathan tries to set them up and stuff and yeah I just love my boy”
A/N: This is my first time writing anything stranger things so i really hope i did this right and it’s not complete shit + I love my boi too and I loved writing this!! I’m not dead and i have risen from my seemingly eternal slumber of writer’s block!! Wow!! + Steve isn’t dating Nancy (and never did) in this fic just a heads up
A/A/N: This is season 2 Steve btw (If you haven’t watched season 2 yet then there might be some spoilers alright?) Alright let’s go.
“Do you wanna kill a monster with us?”
Steve Harrington was at your doorstep, iconic baseball bat in hand, asking you to go monster hunting.
“Are you kidding me?” Was your first response. Ever since you wound up at the Byers place on that fateful night of the demogorgon, you haven’t been able to go outside alone since. The way the lights flickered still sent you goosebumps, and the thought of seeing another monster didn’t make you think twice about your answer: No