What’s Your Day Schedule

a klance comic for this past #mermay! 🌸🌊 

jamesmydeer’s masterlist

characters i write for

james fleamont potter

just go

sad hc

secret admirer

birthday hc

fight hc

remus john lupin

as much as I do

gee, i think you’re swell

sirius orion black

royal! reader hc

ten galleons

random hc

no sleep till new year

royal raffoler

sick hc

regulus arcturus black

secret relationship hc

james sirius potter

passing notes

all

seeing you walk down the aisle hc

jealous hc

first kiss hc

This is honestly so beautiful and really captures Bev as a character, it also makes me want to write for her so much more ??

Please take time out of your day to listen to this if you haven’t already!

Saw this somewhere else and felt the need to post it cause no one else ever really tells you this stuff

me, about to start reading “it”: wow i sure can’t wait to read more about my favourite boy stanley uris 

me, barely three chapters in: 

Wut

Coulda Fooled Me, Man [s.h.]

Fandom: Stranger Things Pairing: Steve x reader Word count: 5.2k Warnings: season four spoilers, fluff, fear of water/drowning, mention of blood, slight love triangle with eddie bc i can’t help myself, gaslighting you all into thinking the Wheeler’s have a front porch, deviation from canon towards the end

“More water,” you groan, a close relative of a whine, more to yourself than to your friends. Looking skyward, as if your salvation swirled in the twinkling cosmos, you ask, “why does it always have to be water?”

“Aww, don’t worry. I’ll hold your hand if you get scared.” Eddie teases, hands squeezing your shoulders softly from behind. You ignore the jab and instead focus on the comforting touch, though fleeting.

You continue. “If I see one more boat after tonight, I’ll be gagged.” 

Eddie leans into Robin beside him with faux secrecy. With a square mouthed cringe, he whispers loudly, “Wait ‘til I tell her about the cruise tickets I bought for the gang.”

You direct a glare at him, veins heating up. While you’re mostly sure that he’s joking, there’s no sooner time than the present to start practicing trust issues.

“Watch yourself, Munson.” Dustin chides with a cheerful grin, the sight alone aiding in further soothing your nerves. “There’s a fire in those eyes that’ll flame that perfect hair to a crisp.”

“Hey, look at me.” Steve enters your line of sight, draped perfectly before you so as to block out the rest of the world. Your body starts to cool under his brown eyed gaze, a new heat taking place at your face. He knows more than anyone here your struggles with swimming, and water in general. “You don’t have to do this. You know that right?”

“And let you go by yourself? No way.”

“Well, I won’t be going by myself.”

“You know what I mean, Harrington.” Your eyes almost pierce his in a glare. Since the inception of your childhood born friendship, there had never been a time you and Steve let the other go about something scary alone. Like in kindergarten, when your grandfather died. Steve came to the funeral service, his hand etched to yours the entire time, like it belonged there. Or in the sixth grade, when Steve needed to get braces. You returned the favor and held his hand throughout the entire procedure, even if it proved to be a nuisance to the dental assistants assigned to him. “‘To the moon and Mars,’ remember?”

A shy, reminiscent grin tugged at his lips. His eyes escape yours so he can look down and shake his head with a huffed laugh. They find yours again easily, voice soft. “I remember.”

“Then let’s do this.”

Steve and Eddie work on preparing the boat, each of you taking turns boarding. Robin goes first, bracing each of her hands on Steve’s and Eddie’s heads as a makeshift railing. Nancy follows, and you decide you’ll go next, despite the leaf-like trembles embedded in your clammy hands.

Lifting a hand out to grasp yours, Steve squeezes your fingers tenderly as he helps you aboard. The hand braced at your back, probably Eddie, adds stability to your body as the boat ebbs under the added weight.

You can only breathe again once you’re seated, perched on a bench across from Robin and Nancy. 

“I thought you said there was only room for four!” Dustin exasperates as Steve and Eddie join you and the girls. 

Steve throws a fake apologetic glance to the boy as he tucks himself in beside you. Eddie’s on your other side, all three of you packed onto one bench. The comfort rate is low, but you have to admit you feel safer tucked between them. Less possibility for your body to be jostled by the waves, that way.

As Robin and Nancy begin to row you away from shore, Steve is quick to check in. Leaning closer to you, he scans your features—and definitely detects the existential fear splattered on your face like spaghetti sauce after a cafeteria food fight—before saying “Okay. How are we doing?”

If he hadn’t already seen the blatant terror in your brow, perhaps you could’ve gotten away with lying.

“Oh, totally terrified.” You say with faux cheer, throwing a delusional wish to the stars that your forced smile will somehow trick your mind into feeling more calm. “But it’s fine. I’ll be okay.”

Like a switch, those final words enhance your hyperfixation on the waves carrying you to the middle of the lake. How they ebb and flow, tilting the boat in a slow waltz at midnight. Except your partner keeps stepping on your toes. The heel of your shoe is two twirls away from perfectly snapping in two. A loose thread of your lovely laced gloves hooking onto their wristwatch’s spine.

Until the sun comes. Its warmth cradles your cheeks, spreading through the rest of your body in a tropical gradient. You’re seated at a gimmicky vacation themed cafe, a coconut punctured with a straw perched on the white wicker table before you. The sundress adorning your body hugs you perfectly, as if designed with you in mind. You’re safe. Content. Perfect, even.

Back to reality, you look down and realize Steve’s hand has nestled with yours. Fingers tightly tangled. As your eyes catch his, he throws you a small smile, eyes squinted with reassurance. You force a smile back.

“Um, guys?” Eddie mumbles distractedly. You quickly avert your gaze from Steve, embarrassed, thinking he was speaking to the two of you. That changes when you actually look at him, though, his eyes locked onto the compass cradled in his palm. Being right next to him, he shows the device to you first. “Is this supposed to be happening?”

With a perplexed lilt to your brow, you use your free hand to take the compass in your grasp. Your other hand retains its tight grasp on your True North, while you watch the compass needle haphazardly scramble in search of theirs.

You lean in, closer to the center of the boat with the compass tilted skyward for your friends to see. They crowd in, all of your heads nearly pressed together as you take in the phenomena.

Dustin’s voice crackles from the walkie. “Guys, what’s going on?” A pause. “Come on, talk to me. What’s going on?”

Robin responds, hands tucked around the device. “Uh, Dustin, your compass has gone from wonky to wonky with a capital ‘ahh!’”

If possible, the sky grows darker than before. Steve slips his hand from yours, and you watch, stunned, as he starts to untie his shoelaces. “Whoa, hold on. What are you doing?”

“Somebody’s gotta go down and check this out.” His arm jostles against yours as he struggles to move with the limited occupancy. This hardly phases you, however, limply ebbing against his shimmies to remove his shoes and socks. You’re discreetly shaking your head before you realize it. “Unless one of you four can top being a Hawkins High swim co-captain, and a certified lifeguard for three years, then it’s gotta be me.” No, it can’t be. “No complaints, all right?”

“Weird time to be bragging about your aquatic achievements,” Eddie relents from your other side. “But I won’t stand in your way. Roll a natural twenty, man.”

Steve is visibly confused by the reference. “Thanks, man.”

You’re frozen, staring out at the darkened waves. Thinking of what lurks below, what Steve could run into down there, sends your pulse into overdrive. Luck would truly be on your side if you don’t need to call a rescue squad by the time this night ends. If it ever does, anyway.

Steve enters your line of sight again. You want to say it’s because he knows you so well and can detect even the slightest quirk to your brow, but you’re sure the anxiety is just emanating from your being in droves at this point. Max can probably see it all the way from the shore. And that’s without binoculars. “Hey,” his voice is so soft around the edges it makes your tear ducts burn. “I’ll be fine. I’ll come back to you. I always do.”

All you can do is nod with a forced smile, not trusting your vocal chords to fray and unravel at the smallest tug of pressure.

With one last squeeze to your shoulder, Steve is standing and shedding his shirt. He tosses the yellow crew neck to you. You’re staring at him again, but for a different reason. This given appearance wasn’t foreign to you, but it also wasn’t as familiar as you’d want it to be. 

Your nose begins to burn.

“Gross,” Robin chimes in, flicking the newly lit cigarette from Eddie’s fingers. He watches, disappointed, as it dives into the water. 

“Is now really the best time for that?” Nancy admonishes.

Eddie flails, and you catch his wrist right before it can make contact with your face. “Have you been alive today? I would argue that now is the perfect time for that!”

Steve looks down at the water, the trepidation written so plainly on his face you could mistake him for a post-it note. Before you can stop yourself, you’re latching onto his wrist. He cranes his head to watch you over his shoulder. “Be careful, yeah?”

Twisting his arm in your grasp so he can squeeze your wrist, he says, “of course.” He looks at the gang. “Stay out of trouble while I’m gone?”

“No promises!” Robin gushes, sugary sweet, flicking another lit cigarette from Eddie’s clutches. He smacks his leg and curses under his breath.

Steve sends you one more meaningful look before he’s swallowed by the waves. The anxiety increases by tenfold without him pressed against your side. You wring your hands together to trap their tremble.

Quiet befalls the group, your only background noise being the oceanic soundtrack which trickles around you in micro pecks. The longer you wait, the more convinced you become that Steve isn’t coming back. That you’ll never get to see him again. Laugh with him again. Hold him again.

Maybe you should’ve told him how you felt when you still had the chance. You tug his sweatshirt closer to you.

“Hey,” Eddie lowers his head, nearly tilting it sideways, to meet your gaze. His fingers tap your temple gently. “How’s it going in there?”

A faint exhale escapes your nose, the lamest excuse of a chuckle you’ve ever heard. You appreciate the concern. “Hanging in there. I just hope he’s okay.”

His lips tilt to the side in a reserved smile, but you also notice a freckle of forlorn acceptance in his eye. Voice dropping into a whisper saved for you, he says, “You really care about that guy, huh?”

Your heart skips, peeking at the girls across from you to make sure they’re still engaged in whatever conversation they might be having. They look drawn into their own world enough that they didn’t hear Eddie, but you wouldn’t be surprised if at least Robin didn’t have one ear directed towards you. Drifting back to Eddie, you say quietly with a chuckle, “of course I do. He’s my best friend.”

“Coulda fooled me, man.”

Lips parting to respond, a dull shriek escapes instead, as Steve breaks through the water’s surface with a gasp. The rest of the gang is startled, too, Eddie clutching to your shoulders in a panic. You think his scream was the loudest, if your ringing ears have anything to say about it.

“I found it,” Steve announces, taking two final breastrokes to reach your side of the boat.

“You found it?” Nancy echoes excitedly.

“I found it.” He repeats, hypoxicated disbelief on his tongue. Hands clutching to the boat’s rim to give his arms a rest, he says again, “yeah, I found it.”

Relief breaks out into hives across your skin in the form of goosebumps, coming down from the overheated peak of your anxiety. The sigh nearly deflates your body, lips tugging up into an agile grin. Your fingers grasp onto his, the look on your face contagious enough for Steve to mirror it.

“Dustin, you are a goddamn Einstein.” Robin says over the walkie with a happy fatigue. “We found the gate.”

“It’s pretty wild,” Steve says while you all wait for a response from the teens at shore. He braces his arms atop the boat. “It’s more of a snack-size gate than the mama gate, but, still, it’s pretty damn big.”

That’s when your heart stops. Or that’s how it feels anyway.

Steve suddenly propels downward, as if tugged by the ankle. His white-knuckled grip on the boat keeps him afloat, but the force of whatever grabbed him had caused the boat to violently bob. Everyone clamors to stay afloat. Sweat immediately gathers at your hairline, and you feel as if all the bones in your hand could shatter from the deathly chokehold you retain on the bench below. A barely there whimper nestles into the back of your throat.

Then he’s gone. Steve. Forced back into the water against his own volition. Hands flayed in a panic, they’re the last things you see before he’s fully taken under. 

The last word to fall from his lips is your name.

“I have to go in.” The words are spoken shyly, despite their willingness to come out, a reluctant admittance to your new fate. Your plea is hardly heard over the screams of your friends, still reeling from Steve’s being reeled under the current. Fingers grasping Steve’s sweatshirt to tug it over your body—your biceps had been getting cold anyway, exposed to the chilly nip of night’s teeth—you speak louder this time around. “I’m going after him.”

“Are you insane?!” Nancy screeches. “No, I’ll go.”

“Well, gate’s at the bottom, isn’t it?” The words dribbled from your lips quickly, eyes flickering between your friends and the dark abyss beneath. “Isn’t this the one time that not knowing how to swim should come in handy?”

“The lady makes a fair point,” Eddie agrees, only to endure an arm smack from Robin.

“Not if she actually drowns!” She all but shrieks.

“I won’t!” You argue, trying to mask the clear anxiety zapping your veins. “I’ll just toss myself into the water, sink for a little bit, then boom. No harm done.”

“Just stay with the boat.” Nancy pleads. “Please.”

“Yeah? Well, the idea of something happening to Steve freaks me out infinitely more than some water. End of story. I’m going in.” You were running out of time. God only knows what’s happening to Steve on the other side. 

Everyone is silent for a beat. 

Until Robin holds out a hand, a begrudging, almost knowing, smile painting her lips. “Fine, you stubborn idiot. But you’re not allowed to let go of me. Got it?”

Next thing you know, you’re in the water. It burns your eyes to keep them open in the dark, lurky murks, but it would help to know exactly where you’re drowning yourself to. Robin keeps one hand tightly latched to yours, as if melded by superglue or a dress zipper that refuses to budge. She pushes the other through the vast depths, kicking her legs so you’ll get to the bottom faster. You try to mimic her movements, unsure if they’re actually helping or not. It may sprinkle speed into the passage, but the distraction of doing something with your body might be playing tricks on you.

That’s when you see it: the gate.

Like an oasis surrounded by a sea of sand. A blue accent wall meant to bring life to the otherwise dull color palette of a hospital. Steve, spotted within an instant of searching a voluminous crowd.

Red glow seeping through the black branch-like coils awaits you, roaring faintly with the eerie moans and creaks of the upside-down. You’re scared, but intrigued. It draws you in.

Emerging from the water, you catch sight of Steve. You can finally breathe again.

Until you hear his screams.

He’s overtaken by these bat-like creatures which swarm his being. They’re above him, beside him, on top of him. Some bite and tear into his flesh.

Not for long.

Swinging at one with a nearby branch you’d found, you spit out a “go back to Hell!” as it unlatches from Steve and soars to the ground with a thunk.

“I think we’re already there!” Eddie hollers, taking down another one.

You all take turns batting at the bats until they’ve all succumbed to your willpower and determination to save Steve. Exhaustion melts into your bloodstream, but you power through. For him.

Magnetized with unnerve, you’re by his side the second the last bat hits the ground.

“You’re here.”

Unable to take your eyes off his sustained injuries, the blood seeping from his wounds—he should be okay, just needs to be bandaged up. Maybe Nancy wouldn’t be too bummed to donate her scarf to a greater cause—you’re only able to grant a customary glance at his face before you’re looking down again. He receives the muttered response, “where else would I be?”

“You came after me,” he points out, like he’d just connected the largest, most obvious pair of dots that you’d have to be a dufus to miss. 

Color yourself a dufus, you guess. “I know.”

A hand grasps your wrist, softly. His hand. “You can’t swim.”

Eyeing the contact before slowly scrolling up to his eyes, you respond. “I know.”

His brow creases upward briefly, the slightest flicker of emotion. All freedom of movement within you is suddenly lost, unable to tear yourself away from his gaze. From his hold, his fingers still wrapped around your wrist. The touch is firm, grounding, as if his eyes aren’t enough confirmation that you sit before him. His thumb crosses your skin so feather-light it almost tickles. Flamed heat warps your cheeks and neck, like you’re leaning in to blow out your birthday candles and overestimate the distance.

You assume time to move differently in the upside-down, but a local clock could tell you years had passed—and you’d hardly bat an eye.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You’re in the woods now, surrounded by the brush of big trees, and under the sound dampener of Skull Rock. Demobats had overpopulated the place the gate had dropped you at, so you had to get out of there. A collective sigh of relief is felt and heard through the gang.

As you separate from the tighter protective coil you’d been wrapped in with one another, you notice Steve moreso stumbles from the group. He braces against Skull Rock’s jaw. 

“Stevie?” you try, making it to him faster than you ran to escape the demobats. “You good?”

“I’m fine.” He mumbles, an obvious lie. Slumping further into the rock, he repeats, “I’m fine.”

“Okay,” you say with a gentle finality. Gentle as a sunflower, you grab his forearm with one hand, using the other to brace against his bare torso. Tugging him down in hopes he’ll see the point, you mumble, “sit down, you liar. You’re losing blood.”

His chuckle is faint, but still floats into your ears with a warm whisper. You both lower to the ground, his hands clutching to your arms as a wave of pain seems to rush through him. 

Scooting closer, you brush a hand over his cheek. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.” Turning to Nancy with what you hope is a charming smile, you say, “hey, Nance. Looking radiant. Got any important plans for that scarf?”

With a reluctant grimace, she hands it over.

“I’ll buy you a new one the second we get back home. Promise.” You assure, taking the garment from her hands.

“You better,” she jabs, its edges softened by the humorous quirk of her lips.

Steve’s already staring at you when you turn back to him. You quickly avert your gaze, pulling him away from the rock so you have enough room to wrap his torso. “Okay, let’s get you patched up, huh?”

As you’re wrapping Nancy’s scarf around him, he gets to his knees to match you, arms raising from his sides.

You make the mistake of looking up.

With his hands braced behind his head, his arms form two mirrored triangles; a glimmering diamond in this otherwise desolate sea of barren ash and decay. His biceps are flexing due to the pose. Chin tilted towards the sky, his Adam’s apple is more pronounced and his neck, elongated. Eyes closed, lashes feathering his cheekbones. His pretty lips are parted, presumably in pain, but you can’t deny he looks good. You can’t control your cognitive functioning, especially around him.

He looks like a Greek god.

You quickly finish tying and knotting the scarf around his wounds, hoping that the snickers you hear to the right aren’t directed at your obvious ogling. 

Though they definitely are.

Especially when your eyes catch Robin’s and she wiggles her eyebrows at you.

“Okay, good as new.” You tell Steve quietly.

He slumps back against the rock at the news. Dropping his otherworldly supermodel  pose, he squints his eyes open. Clearing your throat, you back away slightly. You can’t get too far, however, his hand finding your wrist again. You wonder if his fingers will leave a permanent mark on your skin with the home they’ve found there. A brand, or a tattoo. His voice is still weak, but definitely stronger than it was mere moments ago. “Thanks.”

“Always,” you return, lips curving at the sight of his scrunched nose. He’s so adorable.

Eddie pops the bubble, shrugging off his jean vest and handing it to Steve. “For your modesty.”

Steve nods in thanks and starts to throw it on, when your voice stops him. “Oh, wait. Here.” Gesturing to his sweatshirt on your body. “You can have this back.”

His hands reach out to hold yours in place, effectively stopping their movement. “After you stunk it up? No way.”

You’re gobsmacked for a second, trying to register his playful jab. Then you scoff, shoving his shoulder gently since he’s still likely in pain. “If I stink in this thing it’s only because you put the stench there in the first place, Harrington.”

“You’re probably right,” he relents, and you laugh for the first time since boarding that godforsaken boat. As you help him put on the vest, his smile is blinding. 

Like sticking a bottle of sunshine into a darkened closet.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

After establishing the next step of your escape plan, which was to walk to Nancy’s house and arm yourself with the guns she kept tucked away in her room, you began your trek through the woods.

You strode along the beaten path through the wilted trees with Robin and Nancy, hopping and stepping over Vecna vines as you went. Small bouts of laughter and strategy bounded past your lips the whole way. The reassurance of this new plan had seemed to brighten the group’s soul, bolstering your confidence to the point that you didn’t need to spend your time chomping your nails down to the root anymore. 

Steve and Eddie stay farther back behind you three, engaged in their own conversation.

About you.

“So, Y/N’s a real Betty, isn’t she?” Was how Eddie had chosen to approach the topic.

Steve immediately gets defensive. He tries to conceal it, waiting a beat longer to mimic casualty, but Eddie sees it on his face the second he finishes asking the question. “If you’re trying to ask for my blessing or something, the answer is no way in Hell.”

“Okay,” he draws out awkwardly. “Pushing aside my hurt feelings for a second, I mean no harm. Just having a conversation, is all.”

“Bullshit,” he jabs gently, eyes momentarily flickering to you to make sure you’re alright. He watches your head tilt back, laughing at something Robin said, and his lips tug. “Look, you don’t have to beat around the bush, man. I know you’re into her.”

“Duh, I have eyes,” he scoffs. “But I know true love when I see it, so I’m making the most selfless sacrifice here to help you use your own peepers.”

“True love?” Steve echoes incredulous. “What are you on about, Munson?”

“Look, the second you went under, and I mean the very second, that girl dove in headfirst after you, Harrington.” He watches Steve’s eyes immediately flicker to you. “She was the one leading the charge to come and rescue you, and she can’t even swim, man! We all tried to make her stay with the boat, that we would go in her place. You know what she said to that?”

Steve is breathing harder now, eyes flitting between your joyous figure and Eddie faster than a movie projector fluttering through frames. He can only shake his head in response to Eddie’s query.

They’re both halted in the path, Steve waiting with baited breath at what Eddie has to say. If Steve was expected to focus on his motor skills and you at the same time, he’d stumble and break his ankle if he so much as thought about that damned gorgeous smile of yours.

“She said,” Eddie pauses dramatically, before frowning. “Well, actually, I can’t remember.” Steve deflates, throwing his arms up exasperatedly. Eddie continues, “but, basically, she said that losing you would’ve been scarier than setting foot in any body of water. Any. Body. Of. Water.”

Steve’s eyes soften so much they begin to feel fuzzy. Chest cavity warm, as if someone put a candle in him like he was a jack-o-lantern. He can only see you, a physical diagnosis of the retina where his heart would only continue to beat from watching you.

“Now,” Eddie continues, more gently. The sight of Steve Harrington in love was endearing, to say the least. “I don’t know what happened between you. Why you’re not together anymore. But, I’d get her back.”

“‘Get her back?’” Steve echoes again, looking at Eddie again. Though not for long. “We never dated.”

“Coulda fooled me, man.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Relax finds your muscles later that night, at the Wheeler residence. The real one, not the abandoned grayscale remake. Outside, the cool air is a welcome inhaler to your lungs, the inexplicable smell of Spring like a refreshing glass of pink lemonade. Ice knocking around its container like a wooden wind chime.

“There you are!” A voice gushes. Peeking over your shoulder from your being braced against the porch railing, you see Steve. Flowers begin to sprout in the front yard. They wind and intertwine with one another, vine-like in their trail up your legs to ascertain your heart. He grows closer, and the vines tug. “I was worried about you.”

With a soft grin, you roll your eyes. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine.”

“Oh. Y/N.” He pretends to only acknowledge your presence now. With a point to your body, he justifies, “I was actually just talking to my shirt.”

You guffaw and shove him. Though he sways from the force, the grin on his lips couldn’t be any more gleeful. “Always some kind of trick up your sleeve, eh, Harrington?”

Tossing an arm around your shoulder, he looks into the dark night alongside you. “That depends. Does it annoy you?”

You consider the question. “Occasionally.”

“Then yes.”

Full chuckles resonate on the porch, both yours and Steve’s shoulders shaking in tandem: palm trees in motion. Appreciating his warmth, you lean into his hold. His fingers tighten around your shoulder a fraction, tugging you closer. Though his bandages are fresh and his face has been rid of the dirt that once caked his skin, leaving only disinfected cuts in their wake, he doesn’t smell too great. You’re also certain you don’t exactly smell like a rose garden, despite receiving similar dirt removing rituals as Steve. It’s hard to care, though, his hold on you feeling so destined.

You feel the weight of his head press onto yours, and he asks, softly, “seriously, though. You’re okay?”

“I am.” It’s the first time tonight you’ve been able to say that and actually mean it. “Or, I will be, at least. Nothing a good nap can’t fix, at this point.”

He hums in agreement. “Ain’t that the truth.” With a soft sigh, he begins “tonight was,” only to trail off, shaking his head lightly against yours.

“Mental?” You try with a lifted brow.

His head tilts further into yours for a beat, as if considering the response. “Yeah, that’ll do. More like, that times, like, a million, but yeah. That’ll do.”

“I’m just glad we all made it out there alive.”

He hums again, further tightening his hold on you. As if you’d slip away, a receipt in the wind, if his grasp was too light. Before the topic can get too serious, and, because this is what Steve does, he cracks a joke. “Now if only I could take a damn shower. You especially.”

Expecting the punchline, you just smirk. “Oh, that’s real nice of you, considering I spent most of today fearing for your life.”

He removes his arm from your shoulders, bracing his elbows on the railing to mirror you. His arm is pressed so tight against yours you’d think they made one ligament. Shimmying that shoulder into yours, he says, “that’s cute. You care about me, Y/L/N?”

“I’m not too sure, anymore. You’re kinda mean.”

“If I’m mean it’s only because you put the mean there in the first place.” He tries to echo your jab from earlier in the day. You sputter at his failed attempt, and he scrunches his face up in disappointment at himself, which only makes you laugh harder.

“You’re such a character, Stevie.”

He hums, before offering nonchalantly, “I’ll be any character you want me to be, so long as you get to play my love interest.”

You’re stunned into silence. All you can do is blink up at him.

“I love you. Really.” he says more seriously. “Like, I’m in love with you.” he chuckles to himself. “I think I’ve always been in love with you. I’m just an idiot, and, well, it took another idiot to help me figure it out.”

That’s when you realize. “Eddie.”

Steve nods. “He’s really got the hots for you.”

A knowing smile stretches across your face. “Maybe so, but I’m kind of in love with my best friend, so.”

His face relaxes in relief for a beat, before it scrunches up. “Kind of?” 

“What?” you offer innocently, turning to fully face him. Mirroring your actions, a smile sparkles in his eyes, shaking his head to himself minutely. Perhaps it’s just his addictingly overwhelming presence playing tricks on you, but it feels like he’s inching closer. “I mean, I haven’t even kissed the guy. How can I know if he—”

A welcome interruption, Steve’s lips on yours. His hands, gently cradling your face like you’re the damn most precious thing in his world. The words die on your tongue as his licks into your mouth, a soft hum of content coming out instead.

Warm and bright, you feel like you can see the sun rise behind your eyelids. Orbs of orange marry yellows of the most magical hue, footsteps tracing the horizon in their dance to the top. Though they burn their fingertips on the sun’s surface, nothing compares to the way they burn for one another. With one another.

“To the moon and Mars, yeah?” The words tickle your lips, soft and sweet. A secret sealed behind his padlock heart. 

You never knew you always held the key until this moment. Trapped between your fingertips like a magician with her dog-eared quarters.

“To the moon and Mars, Harrington.”

Ghost of a Lover {Ghost!Dave York x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 10.4k

Warnings: Dub-con/Non-con because….ghost, violent attack, choking, hauntings, sex toys, masturbation, overstimulation, forced orgasms, ghostly pussy slapping, mentions of infidelity, safe words, gun play, derogatory language (likes to be called a slut), slight daddy kink of Dave’s part, oral sex (male and female receiving), face fucking, ghost sex, ass slapping, vaginal sex, rough sex, breath play

Comments: Your first night in your new house is terrifying, an unseen force attacking you in your shower. Furious that you are in HIS house, Dave York doesn’t realize he’s dead yet. Until he figures it out and realizes that you might not mind having him around. Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers​

A/N: Dub-con due to a ghost taking over your self love time. It’s a ghost fucking story, what can I say? Ghosts don’t do what you want. 

You remembered the day you signed the papers for your new house, just last week. The widow, a recent widow with two young kids at that, had told you that the house was special but there were just too many ghosts there. You had nodded, assuming she had meant that everywhere she turned she was seeing her late husband there. You hadn’t thought she meant it literally. 

The master bathroom shower is massive, one of the key features that had made you choose this one over the five others you had toured. In a great neighborhood and spacious with plenty of upgrades to the house, at the late husband’s insistence, it is perfect for your solitary life of writing. You groan under the hot water, steam curling around you in the space and let the water work it’s magic on muscles that are sore from moving and setting up boxes.

A sudden shiver runs down your spine before you are spun around. Screaming and flailing, you don’t feel or see anyone but your body is slammed against the tile and you feel the pressure of a hand around your throat. “I- help!” You choke out, scrambling and if it weren’t for whatever force that was holding you to the wall, you would have slipped and fallen in the bottom of the shower. “Help!”

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The @thestudyingapollo‘s guide to summarising dense and long subjects!!

Hello guys! I’m back to normal posting schedule with something that I had been asked before and that is: how can I turn my big ass dense pile of notes into effective little summaries? Well, brace yourselves because this is something that has saved my ass in more than one occasion, and I’m hoping it will help at least one of you too!! 

As you can see in the first picture, I was working on my pathology notes, which is one of the longest and most dense subject at my uni. I had to learn lots of structures, pathologies, test and names, and I was going crazy before I paired with one of my friends and the two of us turned that scary set of notes (seriously, 700 pages for one subject is no joke) into a manageable little pile of summaries, charts and diagrams! Here is the process we followed: 

First of all, we worked wit our original class notes. They were dense, so we tried to highlight, following a colour-coding system, the most relevant bits of information. And you may ask yourself: how do I know what is important and what not? Well, if there is one word or sentence that helps you remember the simplest concept you’re working with and construct all the details around it, that’s what you MUST highlight. Doing it like that, you can look at your notes and remember the core of the concept, and work on remembering the rest from that simple concept. 

This is no magic trick, you need to work in order for this process to work, but I assure you, it makes difficult ass subject with a lot of material much more manageable. So, don’t leave this for a week before your exam, you will die guys! Working on the notes from your class of that same weeks helps you in remembering what your professor stressed in class and you will identify the essential information much more easily! Of course, if you don’t understand something, look it up, ask your classmates and specially your professor, it’s their work help you understand the material!!!

Doing little diagrams and drawings in your original note will help you in remembering stuff and you can skip all the little details while making your summaries, concentrating only in the important stuff. The basic concepts will help you answer lots of questions in the exam and understand the little details and bits of information much better!

Try to make these little summaries after you have studied each chapter. To keep your notes organised, pick a color for each section: for example, I used orange for the digestive system, pink for the cardiovascular system, yellow for the nervous system, green for the lymphatic organs, and so on. Using bold titles written or highlighted in different colours for each section will improve your memory! Also, using BOLD TITLES is essential, and will organise your memory in little boxes and sub-sections. That way, you will remember the information easily, it will be like opening a Matryoshka doll! Of course, number each section of every chapter. Organisation is the key to success! (look at image number 3)

If there is one central branch of information, use diagrams to organise your thoughts! (just like in image 4). If there is something that refers to that information but doesn’t fit in the structure of your diagram, simply use little sticky notes! Again, use little drawings!!!

If something is too complex or there is a section that has lots of information, try to condense it into a table like in image 5! For example, in the table that you see in image 5, I compared the characteristics of the different types of Lymphoma! I put the different points I need to know of each one, and that helped me in realising the points they had in common and their differences; by doing this, you can learn the info that is common for all of them just one time, and then use your energy in memorising the differences, which is what your profs will probably test you in! 

Something important you need to know is that you only need to write IMPORTANT information. Especially in college and university, professor tend to ramble a lot when they’re teaching a class, and that’s why you can’t put absolutely everything in your summaries notes, because this is not a guide on re-writing your notes, this is a guide on how to understand and organise the most important information! The basics of your subject are what are going to give you the most chances to pass, extra details are going to give you extra points, but if you don’t know the basics, extra details are useless! Also, if you have to learn difficult structures, color your drawings (like in image 6), that way you can visualise its different parts when you’re sitting the exam! 

Use red or another bold color for essential info! Also, remember that you can fit a lot of info in a single sheet of paper, so try not to over do it! Too many colours can get overwhelming, and using a super duper small handwriting to fit everything in your notes is a waste of time. I know that the summaries in image 7 look super menacing, but believe me, my class notes were much, much worse. It doesn’t have to be super pretty or colourful, you can do extremely useful summaries with a blue or black byro and a couple of contrasting colours. You may think this is time consuming, but there was no way I could fit 700 pages of info in my head in top of three other subjects that were not much better! It also helped me make revision much more peaceful: when I looked at the massive pile of class notes I got nauseous even, but I could take my little set of summaries anywhere around the house and revise easily. Also, since I had already worked on all the info, revising was much easier, because I had already worked with my chapters and tried to understand them as best I could so my summaries and tables and charts made sense!!! 

So, this is the process I follow for super dense subjects, and it works wonders for me, but it may not work for you! I learn a lot of stuff by writing it down in a much simpler way than it was given to me, and it makes revision for me much easier because I already worked with that. I hope this helps some of you, and if you liked this little guide, I’m open to suggestions on different ones that you may find helpful!!! 

P.S: You can click on the images to see the little notes I made on them better!!