#sai does a meme

[metatextuality]

first lines meme

Rules: Share the first line of your last ten published works or as many as you are able to, and see if there are any patterns!

tagged by @whetstonefires!

(Last ten published works, huh? That does rather narrow it down...)

1. The Man Who Would Not Stop for Death – a short, pulpy original noir scene for The Merry Whump of May.

The problem with discovering your payday is committing felonies — apart from the fact that they're committing felonies at all, of course — is that your odds of getting paid take a sharp downturn.

2. The Man and the Moon – a longform noir serial in which the same protagonist finds himself attempting to apply hardboiled rationalism to cosmic horrors from beyond the stars.

Chicago is an improvement over Hoboken, which should paint a sufficiently damning picture of both cities.

3. To Serve Satan: Miss deManners' Guide to the Heavenly Host – a Good Omens short about Crowley's methods that came to me fully-formed in a dream, so I'm not sure I should be counting it, but it did probably come from my brain technically so what the hell.

"Would either of you like something off the dessert trolley, sirs?"

For once, it was Crowley who looked up with such sudden diamond-bright joy that it cut.

4. But Be the Serpent Under ’t – an AU of my own pirate noncon epic in which Captain Crowley possesses one of his captors.

When Crowley finally died, it came almost as an anticlimax.

5. The Seas Incarnadine – the aforementioned epic pirate noncon fic, which I stg I am going to finish one of these days. (This sentiment also applies to every other unfinished fic on this list.)

This whole piracy lark had, in retrospect, gone a bit further than intended.

6. Conversant With Terrible Objects – DC mirrorverse character study of Owlman in the form of filthy, filthy phone sex with Superwoman.

The Crime Syndicate believed that Owlman loved Gotham City, when they credited him with the ability to love at all.

7. Black-Clad Bats and Making Money – the one where John Mulaney becomes the Riddler™

You may recognise me as the man who programmed — because that’s what being a game programmer gets you, instant celebrity, like Shigeru Miyamoto and the guy who invented Tetris — you may recognise me as Edward Nigma, the man who programmed Labyrinth of the Minotaur, a bestselling game whose apparent claim to fame is that it is unwinnable.

8. Crowskin – the one where Owlman catches an Australian magpie like a fuckin' baseball.

“What,” uttered Johnny Quick, “the fuck.”

9. Those Who Fight Monsters – a casefic wherein the mirror-universe Riddler deals with the moral dilemma of rescuing Owlman's favorite child assassin.

You would think, thought Edward Nigma, crouching behind the wall of shipping containers he’d scaled partway up for a better vantage point, that criminals would find somewhere else to conduct their business.

10. King's Gambit – DC mirrorverse fic where Lex Luthor and Sinestro discuss rationalism and then kiss (and then try to reverse-engineer God so they can use him as a nuke)

“Good news,” said Sinestro as he pulled away. “You’ll probably keep the eye.”

So the first thing I notice is that I like to open with an immediate, snappy Establishing Character Moment, usually in a close POV. That's probably related to the fact that my usual catalyst for writing down a scene I've been building up in my head is finding an opening hook that I like too much not to use, and which leads naturally into my mind expanding on it for another few paragraphs whether I want it to or not; also to the fact that most of my fic is character-centric, and almost always written in a POV limited to the inside of the viewpoint character's head even when it's in third person.

Something I wasn't expecting from this selection of opening lines – and possibly this is a pattern that would be broken if I included some of my many, many unpublished WIPs – is how many of these take a tongue-in-cheek jab at a significant aspect of the story itself. I don't think it's a matter of being convinced of my own metafictional cleverness, nor of being unconfident in my premise and seeking to lampshade it before the reader gets a chance to notice the cracks themselves...more that my favorite characters tend to be those that overthink everything, in part because I find it a relatable trait. Hmm.

Let's pull in a few of my closest-to-publishable WIP openings, for the hell of it:

My mother, may G-d bless her because he certainly hasn't given her much to work with so far, named me Sidney Solomon Jacobi.

--

"Y'know Sandra Nylund?" I ask, winding my way through the bullpen to my desk, where I navigate the organised chaos of notes and reports until I find the file I'm looking for.

--

The new navigator arrived on the HMS Essex's eighth day in port.

--

The thing about alcoholism was that it was perfectly socially acceptable to drink yourself to death.

--

The second time someone called him, she had Owlman tied to the bed.

Okay, yeah, I'm figuring that pattern's probably just a weird coincidence. Interesting that it worked out that way, though.

Tagging off the top of my head: @punishandenslavesuckers @anneapocalypse @weird-mcgee – and anyone else who sees this, consider yourself tagged as well!

#sai does a meme #for $8000 a month i will stop #writeblogging #a good man is hard to find (no not that one)

[shadowtraveled]

"mithrun is the only real monsterfucker in dungeon meshi" is objectively the funniest bit you can get out of his everything, but in all seriousness i think his attraction to his love interest is deliberately overstated—and that makes sense, because romantic jealousy is a classic and digestible motive, which is explicitly what kabru was aiming for in condensing mithrun's backstory, and also because until chapter 94, mithrun wasn't willing to admit to the true nature of his desires.

but because romantic envy is both classic and digestible, it probably isn’t a unique enough or complicated enough desire to tempt a demon’s appetite. mithrun’s wish, as far as we can figure from kabru’s reduced retelling, was to have a life in which he had never become one of the canaries, and that carries like 3857 implications and desires within it. that’s delicious. his love interest acts as sort of a red herring to his motivation for making it, though. (side note: i'm saying "love interest" here because, keeping in mind that i barely speak japanese on a good day anymore, "想い人" is something i'd usually take as just kind of an old-fashioned and romantic way to refer to a lover, but in context i wonder if both the connotation of yearning and the vagueness are intentional, and i think this phrasing gets those aspects of it more effectively. anyway.)

mithrun considered his love interest to be untrustworthy. there was a minute where i thought that comment might be about a similar-looking elf (yugin, one of his squad members), but comparing the two…

the "sketchy" arrow is definitely referring to the elf we know as his love interest—the bangs go toward her right, she only has the one forehead ornament, and, most notably, her ears aren't notched.

every time she’s given a full-body depiction in his dungeon, she’s drawn as a chimera, with the body of a snake from the waist down. (side note: the “what if a dungeon has chimeras before reaching level 4?”/“then the dungeon lord is unstable” exchange just being mithrun grilling his past self alive is so funny. he’s so. but anyway) there are a couple things about this.

first, the snake part of the chimera appears to be modeled after some species of coral snake mimic

which, in the biology-for-fun manga, i… doubt is a coincidence, especially with the added context of the “untrustworthy” comment. the dungeon’s conjured illusion of mithrun’s love interest was a harmless copycat of a venomous original. for whatever reason, he felt this person was a threat and made up a "safe" version of her to be in a relationship with, and while it’s definitely possible to be attracted to or even love someone you find to be toxic and/or intimidating, when you take that into consideration alongside the configuration of her body, you get some interesting implications.

which brings us to our second point: if we assume that mithrun was not in fact fucking a snake, then sexual attraction, at least, was so far removed from his idea of a relationship with this person that he did not even bother to keep her dungeon copy human enough to maintain the illusion of the option of a sexual relationship. this is somewhat echoed in the depictions of their interactions, which also imply a frankly unexpected romantic distance. she kisses his cheek and he doesn't seem to react; she's at the edge of a narrow bed with only one set of pillows, on top of his blankets while he's underneath them.

the kiss is particularly interesting because it seems to contrast the text. kabru's narration tells us this was everything mithrun could have asked for, but mithrun is there looking unreadable to pensive, likely because this is right before the panel that makes it clear things in the dungeon are beginning to go wrong.

walking through this backwards for a minute, we have the physical barrier of his bedding and the spatial separation inherent in a bed made for one person, the emotional barrier of his mounting anxiety getting in the way of his ability to enjoy the affection he sought, and... the snake, which historically carries the connotation of temptation, yes, but also mistrust, barring physical intimacy. okay. ok. if a dungeon reflects the mentality of its lord, all of this might suggest that mithrun was not able to have any real desire for a relationship with this person. his unwillingness to be vulnerable or let another person in was insurmountable. but in that case, why was she such a focal point that she remained to the end, after his dungeon had stopped creating iterations of his friends to come and visit him? why would he get so upset over her meeting with his brother that he became lord of a dungeon about it?

well. mithrun's brother was also interested in her, probably genuinely. and mithrun had to win.

you have an older brother who your parents completely ignore, probably in part because he is chronically ill/disabled and almost definitely in part because he received a ton of recessive traits that resulted in rumors that he was an illegitimate child. you are aware, most likely because those same parents fucking told you, that you actually are an illegitimate child. but they keep you around because you had the good fortune of looking just like your mother. what can that possibly teach you but that you, like your brother, are disposable?

it's utterly unsurprising that mithrun, under these circumstances, developed a pathological need to be better than everyone around him. people don't keep you otherwise. i'd argue this is also why he says he looked down on everyone he knew while milsiril claims his dungeon reeked of feelings of inferiority—he sought out people's worst traits and prioritized them in his mind to protect his already extremely fragile sense of self-worth, and all the while he tried to be as likable and high-performing as he possibly could be. his parents disposed of him anyway, but even then he tried to keep up the performance. he was kind to everyone. he never once lost to a dungeon.

when he saw his "love interest" meeting up with his brother, what he saw was himself being replaced by a person his parents had always treated as worthless, and if that was what they thought of the child they'd kept, what value could anyone possibly see in the bastard they'd given away to die? mithrun and kabru tell the story like he wanted to win this unnamed elf's heart, but it was never about being with her. it was about cementing his worth, proving that he didn't deserve to be thrown away.

and so it's particularly cruel that his demon discarded him, too. but maybe it's also particularly gentle that, in the end, there was someone who refused to even consider giving up on him.

kui laid it out in three panels better than i could hope to.

yeah. it's love. you wanted to be loved, even when the only way you were able to understand it was through the desire to be wanted, and you wanted that so badly that the idea of being consumed felt like the promise of finally mattering to someone.

#dungeon meshi spoilers #mithrun #dungeon meshi #this has been rotating for a while but i wanted to check my evidence before getting into it thanks user angelspenance for posting that meme #half of this is just the text and the other half i'm sure has been said before but it's making my brain [radio static] so here this is #someone did for sure mention this but i do find it very cute that in his fucked up conjured world meant to portray his ideal reality #his teammates came to visit him. like part of the fantasy was then explicitly that they cared about him and were his friends. even though #he says he tried to see the worst in them. #hm it does feel important to note that i do also believe 100% in mithrun suicidality--his desire to be eaten does seem to focus a lot on #wanting it to be Over. wanting not to be left incomplete and empty anymore. #but that loops back around a bit to the hole in your heart that appears when you feel unloved. it's many things and the same thing at once #snakes #long post #severe problems #meshy

[peculiar-potato]

I feel like they’d get along

#lethal company #among us #among us fanart #lethal company fanart #i think were gonna have to kill this guy steven #i think we’re gonna have to kill this guy #meme #taterdraws #what does it say about me that I’m fixated on both these games #id in alt text

[ponytailzuko]

reigen arataka greatest psychic of the 21st century. internet sex symbol. champion at rock paper scissors. 4th place for whack-a-mole in japan. the original babygirl. the twink and dilf supreme. reigen is the peoples princess.

#cal.ibrations #mp100 #reigen #hes everything ... 2 me #also hes the og babygirl because the mp100 panel is the origins of the why does x call you babygirl meme #reigen is my personal princess diana thats the real purpose of what im saying in this post

[sailorque]

So malevolent exists

#I saw that su meme and I just had to draw them lol #malevolent #fanart #john doe malevolent #arthur lester #malevolent podcast #the entire podcast is just john saying ARTHUR. #only 14 episodes in so far though don’t quote me…

[royalarchivist]

Fit: Yeah, they're all great, you'll like them a lot, you're in good hands.

Pac: You're in good hands, Empanada. One day, if you want to switch place one day, maybe? You know? Just let me know. Remember the thing we talked about yesterday, right? Yeah. Anytime.

Fit: [Chuckles] You two made a little agreement?

Pac: Yeah! Maybe one day it's going to happen, you know? I need to search for a hat just like Empanada's.

Fit: W- wh- wait, Just like in wait a minute, wait a minute. You want to switch places with Empanada? Is that what you mean?

Pac: Yes!!! She had the best mothers of all time! Like, imagine how she's going to be treated, like, she's going to be a princess! The princess of all princess!

Fit: [Stunned silence] Y- yeah, yeah! That- that- great. Just-

Empanada:

Pac: Yeah, you know, like– Tina and Bagi, you know, they are my mothers as well.* Mis madres, mis madres, mis madres, you know, 'cus of the meme, you know Fit, you know Fit?

Fit: Yeah yeah yeah yeah, I- I– Yeah. Yeah no, I get it, I get you, I get you, I understand. I understand. ...yeah.

Pac: [Laughs] Yeah.

Empanada: Drama

Fit: We say "fofoca", Empanada, in Portuguese, yeah. Fofoca, fofoca.

#FitMC #Pactw #Empanada #QSMP #Hideduo #FitPac #* NOTE: BAGI AND TINA ARE NOT PAC'S MOTHERS #The ''mis madres'' thing / the ''mis padres'' thing is a meme #Do NOT get it twisted #please do not shove the women of the QSMP into motherhood roles for grown ass men #Pac is just kidding here #and he started saying that to tease chat #he says ''mis padres'' when referring to himself and Fit too to tease chat because we say that #anyways #''He just wants love'' and what if my heart SHATTERED #Pac and Mike's old backstory is that they grew up as orphans. They've never had parents #we don't know if that is canon to their current lore but it was part of their Fuga Impossivel 2 lore #So yeah. Pac and Mike have never had a father or a mother #and we know Pac does have issues about self-worth and wanting to feel loved. So it makes sense. #It's not even a ''mommy issues'' thing he just wants to know that feeling of unconditional love #November 22 2023 #FRICK. HAVE I NEVER UPLOADED THE PAC AND MIKE BACKSTORY VIDEOS? I'll do that when I'm not on vacation

[quantumshade]

thinking about this meme i made again

#and we're both right. is the thing #also it does often apply the other way around. sometimes ten requires multi page essays while all i can say about twelve is 'her <3' #anyway i'm clearing out my files on my computer before i start school again and i'm finding so many of my old memes #doctor who #delia.txt

[oc3anic-ang3l]

“nice argument, unfortunately…”

Annabeth: *types up an actual argument*

Frank: I disagree

Piper: ur wrong + ratio

Nico: i’m inside your walls

Percy: i fucked your mom last night

Leo: IP. 173. 16. 39. 103 N: 62. 1387 W: 51. 2426 DMZ: 72. 85. 375. 92. DNS: 8. 8. 8. 8

Jason: *blocked*

#source: twitter #original was about stranger things #can’t wait for season 5 #also can i just say #i really miss this style of text posts from like 2013–15 #there were so many of them in the pjo fandom #does anyone know/remember what i’m talking about #like how characters would respond #anyway #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #nico di angelo #percy jackson #leo valdez #jason grace #annabeth chase #piper mclean #frank zhang #hazel levesque #pjo memes

[ringosmistress]

#people with big noses pls dm #pls im begging #does george classify for this? #my bbg #george is included idc #ringo starr i'm looking at you #y'know what they say #big noses mean big dic- #dayum #the beatles #george harrison #ringo starr #paul mccartney #john lennon #beatles #memes

[alllsunday]

Ace is the “ask mom to get a pizza for dinner but don’t tell her I told you” kid personified. Everyone (except Sabo) thinks it’s Luffy coming up with the bad ideas and Ace carrying them out, no, it’s just Ace’s devious ass both coming up with them AND carrying them out. Luffy’s just enjoying the chaos, and Sabo accepts it because Ace can talk himself out of any trouble so all is well.

#portgas d ace #one piece #asl brothers #sabo #monkey d. luffy #revolutionary sabo #one piece meme #and yeah he does do the pizza thing #hey. hey Luffy. go ask Dadan if we can have pizza for dinner #and don’t tell her I asked you to say that or I’ll knock you out

[hiphopcherrrypop]

if soren got to finish talking he would have suggested babygirl as a nickname i just know it

#the dragon prince #dragon prince #dragon prince fanart #tdp #tdp spoilers #tdp s4 #corvus #callum #sorvus #corvus says trust me i didnt ask him to. #help girl how do you draw armor 😭 #dont look at it too hard #babygirl meme #why does serizawa call you babygirl

[metatextuality]

I assume you grew up with guns or just know a lot about them based on how casual they are

(Re: guess my areas of expertise from my writing!)

I love this. I am genuinely delighted.

I have never touched or handled a gun in my life. The closest I've ever knowingly been to one was in museums or the general vicinity of a cop. I might use a gun if it was nearby and I had no better options, but I'd rather not have to — the risk of collateral damage is far too high for my personal comfort.

Writing in fandoms and genres that involve an expected amount of gun-related content is so great, though, because there's so much incredibly specific information on firearms out there that is generally disseminated by people with an enormous amount of expert knowledge and therefore very strong opinions, so it's easy to pick up on that mode of discourse. The fact that a lot of the behavior surrounding guns — posture, discipline, maintenance, and so on — has a strong delineation between what is objectively correct or incorrect helps a lot with verisimilitude, because a relatively small amount of research goes a disproportionately long way in distinguishing a trained practitioner who knows what they're doing from someone subject to common errors and misconceptions. My favorite characters tend to be intensely detail-oriented, so a character or narrator who can casually rattle off that kind of hyperspecific information at the drop of a hat gives the impression of someone who knows their shit down to their bones, even if I-the-author am simply quoting wikipedia and maybe a few forum or blog posts or videos. I've been fooling a lot of very knowledgeable people for a very long time into thinking that I'm one of them. And occasionally making them salivate. I'm never not pleased about that.

There is discourse to be made over the social and philosophical implications of a person salivating over gun porn. Being able to dig into that discourse is another useful angle to demonstrate familiarity.

It is a truly beautiful gun, a masterpiece of engineering, the most reliable pistol I have ever used — and very, very good at killing people.

— Drake Donovan in The Man and the Moon, Chapter 7

Guns are sexy, is the thing, in a similar dangerous fucked-up way as knives and cigarettes and high-end sports cars and power, and also in a very different way than knives, because the rest of those things are inherently somewhat impersonal in a way that knives aren't, because the rest of those things can do what they do at a distance from anyone who might be affected. There is something very seductive about the ability to take a life or, failing that, to affect someone so terribly that they will never be the same afterward. There is something very seductive about something exquisitely designed and manufactured for its purpose. There is a reason that War in Good Omens is a beautiful woman. The interplay of sex and violence is very, very real. As is the gravity of what it means to take a life.

People who know guns, who really understand guns, understand that gravity for what it is. They recognise the responsibility inherent in deciding that a person will stop being a person ever again. They are deliberate about it. You never point a gun at anything you're not willing to destroy. You never put your finger on the trigger until you're ready to pull it.

(They're not necessarily responsible about that decision. They're responsible for it. In this context, "responsibility" is synonymous with "power".)

#oops this got lyrical #i wanted to share my tips and tricks and you can't talk about gun culture from an in-group perspective without getting lyrical #like anything people get passionate about probably #sometimes i answer things without writing a wall of text lmao #sai does a meme #for $8000 a month i will stop #drake donovan

[hualianschild]

#headcanon ? canon ? i just know deep in my soul that hc does say this once in a while #do you see this shit dianxia ??? #okay this moment where he bridal carried him so his feet wouldn't touch the dirty ground ?? #I WAS LIKE DAMN HUA HUA YOUR SIMP IS SHOWING PFFT #also #hualian invented love #tgcf #heaven official's blessing #hua cheng #xie lian #hualian #tian guan ci fu #heaven officials blessing #mxtx #tgcf meme

[writer-room]

I had an idea, and so I made some low effort memes. Happy Dragons Rising everybody

That is all

#EDIT: i added pixal in the lineup cause i FORGOT HER FOR SO LONG #PIXAL YOU DESERVED BETTER THAN THAT IM SORRY WELCOME IN- #ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago kai #jay walker #ninjago cole #ninjago zane #ninjago nya #lloyd garmadon #ninjago wu #memes #shitpost #ninjago memes #my post #i say all of this with affection to clarify #listen 2 me if zane is/was your favorite theres a high chance you're neurodivergent now #but also it looks like zane is most peoples favorite #so if that dont say anything about this shows fandom idk what does-

[stevebabey]

let the kisses linger

word count: 3.3k summary: Steve Harrington is not your boyfriend, not yet. So far you’ve had a couple sweet kisses and an infuriating amount of dates spent with him making you nervous. Now, you just want to kiss him like you mean it, more than a peck, and maybe ask him to be your boyfriend while you do it. Steve beats you to it, on both counts. [cheeky tiny makeout + gn!reader (but r is mentioned to wear a bikini) + first relationship!reader]

It starts with a touch.

You’ve come to learn it always does with Steve. Fingers skirting along any bare skin he can find, drawing a line on your waist when just a sliver is exposed. Along the ridge of your neck, curling his hand to rest against your shoulder. His fingertips tease at your neck, feather-soft touches that can make you shiver if you’re not expecting it.

You think he does it just to see the goosebumps that trail in the wake of his touch. From the way he always grins, like the cat that got the cream, you’re probably right.

Steve can’t help it. You’re so responsive.

Maybe it’s because it’s new, this thing between you and Steve — you’ve been on a couple dates together after a string of painfully obvious flirtations over the Family Video counter that Robin had been forced to witness. You’ve just not quite sealed the deal yet.

However, even though Steve’s had more girlfriends than he can count on one hand, this part? Never gets old.

The electricity. The dance, the build-up; getting to see how you react when you’re not quite expecting him to be as close and touchy as he is.

He adores all of it. The delightful shudder you give when he slips his fingers into your hair, gifting a soft scratch along your scalp when you two had gotten cozy during a film. Your gloriously warm cheeks give you away even though Steve can read exactly when you’re nervous.

You’re utterly precious to him — and Steve wouldn’t exchange your shy smiles, flushed cheeks, or your nervous little reactions that are all because of him, for anything in the world.

Maybe it’s because you’re new to this.

First date, first time holding hands, first kiss — you’ve given them all to Steve. With the seriousness he takes them all, wholly prepared to blow your expectations out of the water, you feel you can trust them with him.

But even with trust, there’s no quelling the sticky nervousness that runs free beneath your skin when his hands begin to wander.

At first, it made you freeze. Not sure how to relax under hands that just want to hold you, touch you, just cos’ they can.

You think it took, maybe, a whole hour for you to relax and let yourself slump against Steve on your fourth date, curled up together on the couch. You think Steve knew of your nervousness and thanked him silently for his nonchalance at your stiffness. Not one comment was made.

You had relaxed into his side eventually. Steve, of course, had then gone and wrapped an arm around you and pulled you back into his chest and you’d gone straight back to tensed up.

His arms were wound around your middle, hands resting on your tummy and you hadn’t a clue on how you were supposed to be calm about it. You had mentally cursed his pretty hands, and his warm arms, and prayed to whoever was listening to grant you some semblance of strength.

And then, the bastard had leaned down, lips ghosting the shell of your ear, and whispered, “Y’can relax, sweetheart.”

You could practically hear the grin, cursing how you tensed up more — and forced yourself to melt against him. His arms tightened, pulling you closer as if this had been his plan all along. Steve’s chuckle wouldn’t have been audible if you hadn’t been so close to him.

Yeah, he definitely knew how nervous he made you.

The difference between then and now? Now, you want his wandering touch. Steve had been so sweet and good in the beginning, a little bit of teasing to watch you blush and squirm, and then he’d back off. Make sure you were actually comfortable.

You’re not sure you’ll shake the nerves with him — it’s just a Steve thing. He’s gorgeous, you’re nervous, the sky is blue, yadda yadda.

But how do you send a different message — tell him that he’s started a hunger in you that’s not quite satisfied with fleeting touches — when all you can do is shiver and blush when he puts his hands on you?

However you do, you need to figure it out, like, stat.

Today, in the blistering swell of summer, it’s getting near unbearable. At the Harrington house, Steve’s invited the party around for a bit of a pool party and you think you might die if you get to see him shirtless for any longer without getting your hands on him.

Steve’s meanly decided to forgo his shirt. It leaves him walking around in only slightly too short swim shorts and a smirk that says he knows exactly what he’s doing.

You get a tasty eyeful of his warm tan skin on display through the patio doors, your eyes tracking each mole on his skin. He’s scooping the pool free of leaves and you honestly feel like this is the start of some shitty porno with you lusting over the pool-boy. You’re fairly sure he knows you’re staring which makes it worse. He’s evil.

The muscles in his back ripple as he cleans, biceps bulging deliciously and you might seriously start drooling at the sight—how did you get him to go out with you, again?

“You’re drooling.”

Beside you in the kitchen, big sunglasses pushing back her fringe, Robin manages to startle you with her silent appearance. You jump just a bit, tearing your eyes away from Steve — you hadn’t heard her approach.

Your hand flies to your mouth, wiping fast. Embarrassment flushes up when you swipe at nothing and Robin cackles at the sight. 

You roll your eyes but it does little to deter the heat in your face.

“I’m just messing with ya,” She nudges her shoulder against yours, her grin looking far too cheeky for your liking. Like she could read into every thought that had just been streaming through your head. You silently hope not.

“I wasn’t- there was no drooling.” You say, the conviction in your voice weakening with each word.

Robin wrinkles her nose. “That was a lie of epic proportions. You so were.”

You pout a bit, embarrassment still shining through. Robin just grins further and adjusts her sunglasses. She heads to the fridge, pulls it open, and plucks out some orange juice, beginning to drink from the bottle.

“No shame.” She says lightly, between a gulp, then reconsiders after a moment, her eyes bright. “Okay, a little shame — you looked ready to jump him right here and now.”

Your face might rival the sun in heat right now.

“But he’s your boyfriend, isn’t he?” It comes out a bit gargled from the juice she’s yet to swallow. Boyfriend comes out like bwoyfend. She continues after a swallow. “If anyone’s allowed to ogle, it’d be you, no?”

Uh oh. The B-word. The not-yet official name that you’re not sure you’re allowed to use in reference to Steve just yet.

“Um,” you cough a bit, wondering if you can skirt around the question. Yes some part of you sings, because you really really want him to be. You have to scold yourself for fibbing, even if it’s only in your head. Robin takes another swig, her eyes still on you.

“Not exactly.” You admit sheepishly, a hand coming up to rub the back of your neck. “We haven’t— he hasn’t- it’s not like that. Yet.”

Robin grins as she watches you fumble for words, screwing the cap back on the OJ. She leans her hip against the countertop, casting a glance out the window.

You go to follow her look and then think the better of it, focusing back on Robin. Like you need your blush to get any more fierce.

“Dingus is being stupid. He probably just needs a nudge.” Her eyes spy the thin cherry-red strap of your bikini, peeking out beneath your cotton shirt. “I’m sure that bikini will do the trick.”

She seems to hear herself, her eyes widening a moment later, slipping into a raspy ramble you know well. “Though, it should be said I totally believe Steve likes you for your personality. He’s not like— he wouldn’t just- he’s a multi-faceted man with many many layers!”

It all bursts out a bit frantic, so very Robin. You’re both amused at her insistence that Steve doesn’t just view you as eye-candy and grateful for the way she’s managed to melt off some of your nerves, huffing a small laugh at her dramatics.

“Who is?” Steve asks, voice cutting into the conversation.

You startle a moment, surprised. He’s standing in the doorway that leads out to the pool, both arms stretched above his head to grasp the top of the door frame, leaning into it. You can’t help the way your gaze instantly draws up along his arms, far too fixated on the delicious show of his muscles to properly focus on answering his question.

“Certainly not you, dingus.” Robin comments, already clocking the hazed expression on your face. She recognizes the same absurd flirting face on Steve she’d become far too familiar with at Scoops and takes her cue, orange juice in hand.

“People arrive in like 5 minutes, just remember!” The knowing in her tone makes you consider blushing again, just to be ashamed of how quickly she had read you for filth.

Steve certainly seems to know too. He drops his arms, waltzing in to meet you in the kitchen and you will yourself not to step back when he comes a little closer than expected.

“This is a nice little number,” he murmurs, voice low. His eyes are trained on your shoulder and before you ask what he means, his hand comes up, fingers toying with the strap of your bikini. Where his skin meets yours, fire streaks beneath it, like a connecting point of static electricity.

“You think?” You ask a little breathier than you’re intending. It nearly makes you scrunch your face up in cringe, feeling a familiar glow in your cheeks.

You don’t, only because when Steve nods, teeth scraping his bottom lip for a moment and eyes wandering over your face, he looks a little lovestruck. Like he can’t believe you’re real.

His other hand comes up, both his palms resting on your shoulders and he trails them down your arms lightly, soft touches, til both your hands are in his.

“Come show me out in the sunlight?” He asks, cocking his head back out to the pool. His hands tug you ever-so-slightly. You can’t help but oblige, letting him pull you out, barely holding back your smile as he does.

There’s just something about when he touches you. Steve Harrington is a man all about touch and you’ve been going crazy finding out just how touchy he can get when you’re the one in his heart.

You amble out onto the tiles behind him and squint just a bit at the change in lighting, the bright rays of midday casting down onto the backyard. It’s mildly warm out, balmy, and with just a hint of a breeze that ruffles your shirt for a moment. 

Steve’s feet move nimbly to suddenly redirect you both — walking you both against the side of the house, til your back presses against the wall. You’re just out of view of the sliding doors, and you’d be foolish to think it’s not by design. Come show me out in the sunlight? His words echo in your head, inciting a familiar warmth in your cheeks.

“Steve—?”

“I’m gonna kiss you now if that’s okay,” He breathes, voice suddenly a lot heavier than it had been inside. Like it might actually ache inside if he doesn’t get his lips against your skin — like perhaps your lips held the antidote to a poison that was making his blood sing for your touch.

One of his hands releases your own to travel up, curling along your jaw, fingertips sliding into your hair. His eyes are still drinking in every detail of your face, affection mixed with something darker conveyed across his features.

His fingers caress along your scalp, thumb along your neck, tantalizing touches that you’re sure he’s not even aware he’s doing. But still, he doesn’t kiss you, waiting for a yes. God, he’s sweet.

Especially considering the answer is a huge fat unanimous yes.

It’s been a yes since the moment you saw him today. It’s been a thousand yes’ piling up in the weeks of seeing him, building up from the first time you kissed him and somehow bit his lip and he had only laughed and soothed it against your own.

Your yes has been growing inside you, the desire to kiss him like you mean it and leave him pink in the face and pretty.

It only takes one tiny please falling off your lips for Steve to close the gap, his lips brushing against yours. He kisses you, gentle for a moment - til a hunger overtakes and the kisses quickly turn hot and fast.

There’s urgency coiled up beneath your skin and it bursts to the surface at his kiss, the feeling you’ve been desperately craving. Steve gives you what you want gladly.

His grip in your hair tightens slightly, his kiss turning a little more fierce, and you keen and eagerly return it. His other hand has found your waist, startling a small gasp out of you when his warm palm covers your hip and bring you closer. His lips break away, just enough to take in some air and let you breath a moment, then he dives back in.

Kissing Steve, you’re quickly learning, is pure delirium.

His lips are soft and greedy and he steals kisses as quick as you can give them. There’s a quiet hum in the back of his throat, borderline a groan — and when you remember your hands, moving them from awkwardly hovering at your side to cup his face, fingers delving into his hair, the groan breaks free.

“You,” He pauses his attack of affection, lips still an inch from yours. Your eyes blink open, not aware of when they had closed. Steve’s scanning your face, looking for something, lips already pinker from your kisses. “You good? Not too much f’you?”

Your heart pounds a little faster at his care. His attentive gaze tracks your emotions to make sure he hasn’t pushed you too far, that you’re not overwhelmed by the affection. He’s so fucking nice.

You are overwhelmed, just a bit. It’s impossible not to when Steve kisses the way he does; so sweet, and like he envies anything that’s ever touched your lips. It’s pure passion, in a way you can’t even begin to describe.

The heat under your skin burns hotter. The places he touches you — his fingers in your hair, his hand on your waist, the press of his body against yours — all glow gloriously warm. Steve looks so stupidly hot, you nearly want to whine aloud about how unfair it is.

His chest is heaving a bit, a flush up his neck, his hair tousled from your grip on it. In the buttery sunlight, he’s golden and the same moles you had been staring at not 10 minutes ago look even more divine this close. You want to kiss each one, connect them with a press of your lips, and leave little marks of your own.

You want to devour him; you start and answer his question, with another kiss.

Steve’s surprise is only shown in his parted lips, a small gasp swallowed in the kiss, and you take it as an invitation, a hot swipe of your tongue across his lower lip. You take it between your own, a ghost of a nibble that makes him shudder delightfully beneath you.

Steve kisses back fervently and just when you think you’ve got the rhythm, sighing into his mouth, he pulls back. You make a noise of dissatisfaction and he chuckles lowly at it.

You don’t even get a moment to ask what’s wrong, your eyes still comfortably closed as Steve stays close, pressing his forehead down against yours. In a raspy whisper, just for you, he says, “Be mine?”

Your eyes fly open at that, some pocket of air whooshing out your lungs. He’s watching you intently, caramel eyes that give away his nervousness even if his voice hadn’t wavered. This close, you can see a smattering of freckles that dot his nose and you swear, inside your chest, your heart just sighs. He’s so pretty it hurts.

You’ve only been awed silence for a few seconds before his nose nudges yours, hand on your waist pulling you even closer. Before you can find your words, he asks it again— in between peppering soft kisses up the side of your face. “Be mine, please?”

“You- You wanna be my boyfriend?” You ask, not meaning to sound so disbelieving.

A nervous laugh titters out as you lean in closer instinctively. Your heart feels as though it’s going to beat out of your chest, as wild as a hummingbird’s wings, and it makes you grin— your lips curl up involuntarily, completely unable to help the way you beam.

“Of course,” Steve laughs lightly, nuzzling his nose against yours. Then, because he seems to have a pattern of being awfully repetitive today, his voice turns softer, all sincere when he whispers, “Of course.”

Damn him. Every time you think you’re close to settling those butterflies, to biting back the nerves that make your spine tingle, he swoops in and one-ups himself — does or says something else stupidly romantic so that all you can is grin like a dope.

You’re not proud of the giddy little noise that slips out of you when you nod excitedly, cheeks already starting to ache from how wide your grin is. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, trying to stop smiling enough to kiss him again but Steve doesn’t bother waiting. The next kiss is a bit fumbled, both of you smiling too much to properly kiss but one or two more softens your smiles.

You kiss him hard, remember your hands and tug him close, closer, he’s not close enough — a pleased hum comes from your boyfriend’s throat and even the word in your mind makes you smile too much to keep kissing him.

A sharp rap against the sliding doors makes you whip your head to the side, both you and Steve looking perfectly guilty of being caught in your makeout. Slightly swollen lips, bitten and pink, on the both of you, not to mention the close proximity of the pair of you pressed against the house.

“Ahem,” Robin clears her throat from where she stands, out from the doorway since she had come looking for you. “Guests are arriving if you’d cared to notice.”

Part of you droops, entirely fixated on stealing a thousand kisses from Steve and maybe leaving a few marks of your own. His disappointed huff, barely audible, lets you know Steve is well on the same page as you.

Extracting yourself from his arms, you press him back with your fingertips planted in the middle of his chest. Steve turns back to you, groans aloud like he’s about to complain, and it just furthers your smile into a smirk.

“Plenty of time for that later,” You say, still sounding too giddy to come out as confident as you’re aiming for. Internally, some part of you sings, glad you’re finally confident enough in yourself that you verge from skittish nerves into playful teasing.

Your fingers on his chest twitch, walking up to the line of his collarbones and lingering on the base of his throat. Steve watches you closely, gaze a little hungrier than before, and then he huffs again, playfully slapping your hand away from his chest.

“Oh my god, I’ve created a monster!” He covers his face dramatically and throws his head back, egged on by the laughter that escapes you. The expanse of his throat is bared, hot tan skin that is begging to be littered with love bites. You take the thought and bookmark it, for later.

“C’mon then, boyfriend.” You say, just ‘cos you can. Steve grins. Your chest burns beautifully, in a way you never want to quench.

Besides, you can quell that hunger later. He is your boyfriend now, after all.

#SLAYYYBOOOO this was fun to write #i think i say that with every piece but #I WANNA MAKEOUT POOLSIDE WITH MISTER STEVE HARRINGTON #this was written originally to write a makeout and then it kinda got too long by the time i reached the makeout lmao #oh well #[inserts bernie sanders meme] I Am Once Again Asking Is It Coherent & Does It Flow #i knooooo that i have to write in batches but it always irks me cos im NEVER exactly in the same brain #anyways bleh who cares bout that #actually i do Blease give me Feedback #would u like more of this? more of the angsty stuff? #ruby writes #ruby writes steve #steve harrington #steve #harrington #steve x reader #steve x yn #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x yn #steve fic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve imagine #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #steve harrington oneshot #POSTED AT 11.11 BABEY

[lierenprotectionsquad]

Atrocious.

#edit: I wanna preface this by saying that this is strictly each character’s personal song 🙏 #edit 2: by the general public I mean casual listeners not fans #ride the cyclone #ride the cyclone musical #rtc #rtc musical #ride the cyclone meme #rtc memes #constance rtc #ricky rtc #mischa rtc #noel rtc #ocean rtc #penny ​rtc #jane doe rtc #penny lamb #mischa bachinski #noel gruber #ocean o'connell rosenberg #ricky potts #constance blackwood #sparky knows memes