#drabbling

pairing: steve harrington x fem reader

warnings, warnings: steve harrington breeds reader! he's mean and honestly not super ic of him but in a world where hes a typical 80s freak with 1980 values, plz dont read if youre very sensitive to 70s-80s misogyny or dont like ooc

A socially traditional Steve Harrington who pretends to be as free spirited and accepting as reader.

Like, of course you can go out with your friends without a man beside you.

Of course he'll respect your independence and let you get a job

Of course he'll let you get on that new birth control.

Rose had been to hundreds of black tie galas and benefits since her rise to fame, but it was her first time going as a plus one for Shane Hollander.

Shane looked stiff and uncomfortable in his tuxedo, as he always did when he was expected to be in formalwear, but he still smiled at Rose, told her she looked beautiful, led her inside on his arm. He was a model boyfriend, for all intents and purposes. Him not always being able to get hard was, at most, a minor inconvenience.

They were at the bar when Rose spotted another familiar hockey player across the crowded room -- Ilya Rozanov, accompanied by his own date. They made a striking couple; he was tall, broad, pale, with neatly arranged tawny curls. She was equally tall, but lithe and dark, with tight coils of hair spilling out from an updo. They were both dressed all in black and standing side by side in silence, seemingly cataloguing their surroundings.

When the woman's eyes landed on Rose, then flicked to where Shane was leaned against the bar, she tapped Ilya on the shoulder. He followed her gaze to Shane, and Rose watched his jaw clench. He turned and muttered something to his date, and she shook her head in response.

All Rose really knew about Ilya was that he was a fantastic player, a bit of an asshole, and was theoretically her boyfriend's rival. Shane never talked about him though -- actively avoided the subject when it came up. And having been subject to several media-driven "rivalries" of her own, Rose doubted it was as serious as anyone said it was.

"Here you go," Shane murmured, holding out a bottle of beer. In his other hand, he held a glass of what appeared to be a Shirley Temple.

She accepted the offer and nodded across the room to where Ilya and the woman seemed to be in a heated argument. "Did you want to go say hi to Ilya?"

Shane looked in the direction she gestured and his expression soured for the briefest moment before smoothing into something flat and expressionless. "Sure," he said tightly. He held out his free hand, and gripped hers tightly as he led the way.

Ilya saw them coming first, and his mouth snapped shut as they drew near, cutting himself off midsentence. The woman beside him finished her sentence, the melodic Russian words offset by the sharpness of her tone, before catching sight of them. She looked down at their joined hands, then up at Rose. One thick, dark eyebrow lifted, and her lips twisted into an oddly curious expression. Rose felt herself waver under the woman's gaze.

"Mister Hollander," Ilya drawled, dipping into a mocking bow. He straightened and wrapped one arm around his date's waist. His other hand held a tumbler of what appeared to be straight vodka.

"Rozanov," Shane grunted. His hand tightened around Rose's. "Who's your...friend?"

"Svetlana," the woman said, before Ilya could get a word out. She handed her champagne flute to Ilya, who grumbled something in Russian as he tried to maneuver both glasses with one hand. She didn't seem to notice his struggle as she extended a long, elegantly manicured hand to Shane. "Just friends. Don't let him tell you lies."

Ilya hissed something to her, but a placid smile remained fixed on her face as she turned to Rose. "Rose Landry, yes?"

Rose liked how her name sounded in Svetlana's accent. It had been shaped into something more illustrious than it ever was when she said it. It took her a beat to catch up, to free her hand from Shane's grasp and extend it. "Yeah - yes. Sorry. Lovely to meet you."

"You are lovely," Svetlana said smoothly, her grin widening as their hands met. "How did Hollander get so lucky?"

An attempt at a polite laugh came out as something stuttered and strangled, and Rose swallowed harshly before trying to form full words. "I like to think I'm the lucky one," she managed.

Svetlana's eyes narrowed. They were deep brown, framed by thick lashes, and accented with shimmering eyeshadow. "Do not diminish yourself. You could do better."

Rose didn't know what to say to that, but when she turned to Shane for a reaction, maybe some support, she found him locked in a silent staring contest with Ilya. Shane's eyes blazed with a heat that she hadn't seen in him before, and Ilya matched him easily. She turned back to Svetlana. "I'm not," she tried. "He's wonderful."

Svetlana looked pointedly between the two men, then back to Rose. "Oh, yes," she drawled. "He seems very taken with you."

A 'loss for words' couldn't fully describe the disastrous tangle that Rose found her mind in, but she didn't get the chance to respond. Svetlana reached back to where Ilya had both their glasses in a claw grip and plucked hers free. He didn't even look over as she tipped it back, draining it one go.

"I need a drink," she said to Rose, waving the empty glass. "Come on."

"But-" Rose glanced at Shane again, whose eyes flicked back to her, unseeing, before returning to Ilya. "...Okay."

Svetlana's hand was markedly different from Shane’s; soft where his was calloused, slim where his was broad. Their hands fit neatly together, and Rose found herself staring at them as she let herself be walked back to the bar. "They need to talk," Svetlana explained, turning over her shoulder to address Rose as they walked. "And it doesn't involve either of us, so I don't see why we should be wasting our night as arm candy."

Rose simply nodded in response. Then she was sitting at a barstool, Svetlana on the one next to her. Her legs were crossed, and the slit in her dress revealed a well-toned thigh that Rose was having a difficult time looking away from. Whatever she was feeling was starting to feel uncomfortably akin to attraction.

"So Rose," Svetlana said, leaning one elbow on the bar. "Tell me about yourself. I want to know everything."

Hans struggling with not being able to dote on Henry publicly and coping by bestowing increasingly elaborate gifts as “tokens for loyal and true service.”

The parcel of land Henry expects but its the endless stream of wine, exotic fruits and jewelry that’s overwhelming him. Hans won’t take no for an answer and only seems to get more extravagant when Henry relents and starts drinking the vintages and wearing the brocade around him.

— Taylor Jenkins Reid, The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo via @letsbelonelytogetherr

Loving plainly

Louder than the hum of the AC, the silence in the office was deafening.

2.00 A.M.

Puffing out white smoke, Shikamaru flipped through another folder of documents to analyze for the big meeting.

It felt endless.

After grueling hours of meticulous scrutiny and deliberation, he craved for tranquillity.

His mind eased away to the drifting clouds in the azure sky. Then, a hand – her hand, rough but gentle, resting on his forehead.

So serene. So simple. So plain.

If he’s at home now, he’d be in bed spooning her to sleep.

Love does not have to be grandiose. It is the plain, almost unnoticable force that anchors in a steadfast, infinite embrace.

Head heavy, shoulders sore, eyes burning. Lethargic and sleepy, his mind reached home way before his body did.

Screw it.

Grabbing his jacket and locking his room, he decided that paperwork and strategy can wait. Something else was more important.

His steps hastened. He could already feel the shuffle on the cotton bedsheet and her soft skin in his fingers and lips. The scent of honey that lingered in her hair. Her dozy eyes when she turned to search his. A warm exhale, her hazy smile, and the quiet yearning kiss that followed.

If you love Myst as much as I do and are as intrigued about the possibility of the Stoneship, Channelwood and Mechanical Ages having at least a few survivors that we just didn't get to see, consider taking a peek at this little writing project I've started!

Part 1 / Stoneship

Part 2 / Channelwood

Part 3 / Mechanical

Or you can read all of them in a row on AO3!

And now you can also see some crude doodles of the characters here!

I intend to potentially write more as just this series of very short drabbles.

Well, Pedro did a great job with baby!Grogu, so I'm pretty sure he can handle Percy too 🤣

As for Paul and Sally... I’ve got a few WIPs here and there. One of them sums up what happened from the moment Percy left New Rome to the whole new!Luke mess, as seen through Sally’s perspective.

Right now, I’m just writing whatever comes to mind or after listening to a song that really sparks something in me. I’ve been struggling with writer’s block for over a decade, and I’m honestly terrified of getting stuck again—having all these amazing ideas swirling in my head but not being able to get them onto paper. It’s hard 🥲. I don’t want to force myself and make it worse, and I get it if my drabbles seem all over the place. But I’m trying. Maybe one day I’ll rewrite them in order. Please bear with me.

Back to your question! Paul is a potato 😁. He knows there was a friend of Percy’s named Luke Castellan who did some bad things, but that’s pretty much the extent of his knowledge. He has no clue that that Luke is this Luke. Right now, his biggest concern is Percy having a crush on a Bible Boy.

Sally... Sally’s a bit trickier. She’s the one who suggested the "meet the other parents" dinner, mainly to see and understand. She’s trying to keep an open mind about everything: different religion, different species (does the nephilim thing count as a different species? Not sure 🤔), and of course, Luke. She gets the gist of the blonde being "born again," but she needs more information.

Over the years, Percy’s told her many things about Luke Castellan—angry things, sad things, scary things. So Sally has a lot of mixed feelings about him. Is she angry about what Luke did? Absolutely! Is she sad about how he died after such a lonely life? Yes, but what scares her most is knowing that Luke’s actions spared her son a very different fate.