#anyone else notice how fucking grey this movie is?
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Sydney Sweeney & Glen Powell
ANYONE BUT YOU (2023)
dir. Will Gluck
#anyone but you#anyone but you 2023#glen powell#sydney sweeney#movieedit#filmgifs#filmedit#tvfilmdaily#dailytvfilmgifs#cinematv#romancegifs#romanceedit#ben x bea#*#anyone else notice how fucking grey this movie is?#it's insane#what a weird movie to color#anyway glenneth will have a dancing scene in his romcoms#and we love to see it
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Hi. I'm back, and I wrote this in about an hour so be nice. This is 100% inspired by @ezrasbirdie's Twinkle and the very lovely dream it gave me. So this is Birdee's fault.
*
Perfect Fit
Frankie Morales x plus size f!reader // 1.3k
Warnings: Reader is a curvy lady with big titties and a belly, f receiving oral, mutual masturbation, cum eating, lots of praise, language, a smidge of insecurity but it doesn't last long, reader borrows Frankie's shirt, a very feral Frankie who has got it BAD for reader. Use of good girl and bebita. I also maintain that Frankie is a babbler during sex. Oh also Frankie is in sweatpants, which is a gift to us all.
*
The flickering lights of the TV lit up your face, an old rom-com from the '90s that you had seen a million times playing on the screen. You laughed at every joke, even though you could recite every line if asked. Frankie heard you mutter them under your breath sometimes, which he would have found annoying if it had been anyone else. Never with you though.
He wasn’t paying a damn bit of attention to the movie, though.
Not for the past twenty minutes at least. Not when you were wearing those leggings and his threadbare grey t-shirt which you had borrowed for the night. Frankie could barely drag his eyes away from how his shirt pulled tight on your gorgeous tits or how the hem had rolled up just enough to show your soft tummy.
He felt like a pervert ogling you like a fucking teenager who could barely control himself, even though you had been dating for more than six months. He was allowed to ogle, but you had just had a week from hell at work and had been looking forward to a relaxing night at Frankie’s place. He could keep his hands off of you for a couple of hours so you could watch your favorite movie in peace.
You shifted slightly on his brown leather sectional and leaned into him, tucking your legs up and under you. Frankie stiffened, and you noticed. Normally he would put his hand on your knee or his arm around your shoulder. Instead, his hands flexed as he straightened out invisible wrinkles on his sweatpants.
“You alright, babe?” You pushed a stray curl behind Frankie’s ear. You made a mental note to give him a haircut this weekend. You’d been putting it off; you liked his hair on the longer side.
“Fine, fine. Just, uh- gonna go get a glass of water.” He stood up so quickly that you practically fell over.
“I…okay?” you mumbled as he made a beeline for the kitchen. He was gone long enough for the movie to culminate with the big romantic kiss and the happily ever after, making his way back to the couch as you clicked off the credits. He settled back next to you but a little further away than before and stared straight ahead.
Doubt gnawed at you. “Are you upset with me, Frankie? Is it because I made you watch this dumb movie again?” you asked softly, fiddling with one of your rings. The relationship was still new enough that you didn’t know how to read all of his emotions just yet.
His head whipped around. “What? No! Not at all, baby. I’m just- tired. You’re tired too, yeah? Should we go to bed?” His eyes darted down to your shirt, which made you realize how far it had ridden up.
You pulled down on it out of habit, and Frankie frowned. “Are you sure?” you asked.
Frankie shook his head. “C’mere,” he instructed as he helped you over to straddle his hips. You draped your arms around his broad shoulders, gasping slightly as he rolled his erection against you. “You’ve been driving me fucking crazy, baby. Do you know that? Feel what you do to me?”
“But I haven’t been doing anything?” You were genuinely confused.
Frankie nuzzled his nose against your chest, breathing heavily. “You look so good in my shirt. Damn, it fits you just fucking right.”
You cupped his face and pulled him up for a kiss, his tongue immediately begging for entrance. Frankie kissed you like it was his last chance, like you were the last gasp of air he would ever take. “This shirt barely fits,” you admitted when you both broke to catch your breath.
“It’s perfect,” he said adamantly. “Don’t ever wear anything else.”
You giggled and kissed him again before he lifted you off and leaned you back so you could stretch out on the chaise portion of the couch. He had fucked you more than once here in the months since he had bought it. A christening, he had called it, the night it had been delivered.
Without a word, Frankie helped you shimmy out of your leggings and underwear, stopping to stare at you as he tossed them over his shoulder. You smiled, and felt powerful. No man ever looked at you the way Frankie had looked at you since the first night you met. He was enraptured, enthralled. And he looked like he wanted to feast on you. You bent one knee up and let it fall against the couch. His cock noticeably jumped, pressing against his sweats.
“Oh fuck. Look at my girl, she looks so pretty.” Frankie settled on his belly and pulled your leg up over his shoulder. He left a trail of kisses up your inner thigh before softly kissing your cunt. He buried his nose against your curls and inhaled deeply. “Smell so fucking good for me.”
Frankie wasted no time and licked a slow and tortuous stripe up your slit before flicking his tongue against your clit. He built a steady pace, pushing you to the edge and easing back over and over again.
“Christ, Frankie, oh my- Frankie, Frankie, Frankie,” you babbled as you threaded your fingers through his hair, pulling him against your cunt as it clenched around nothing. He licked up everything you gave him before standing up and ripping off his clothes, his cock bobbing as he stepped out of his pants. His chin was wet with your orgasm, and his pupils looked blown out.
“Bebita, I need you to touch yourself. Rub that gorgeous clit, please? Please, baby,” he begged, stroking and squeezing himself as you gently rubbed circles on your sensitive clit. “Such a good girl, doing just what I ask.”
His praise made something low in your stomach clench and you arched your hips up, eyes fluttering closed.
“No, bebita, look at me, please. Lemme see those eyes. Yes, yes. Can you put a finger inside?” he practically begged, hand quickening over his leaking cock.
“Yes, Frankie,” you shuddered as you exhaled, slipping one finger easily into your relaxed cunt.
“Another, baby, please?” He moaned, never taking his eyes off you, as you complied and added in a second finger. He watched you move them in and out, snaking your other hand down to rub on your clit. “I’m so close, where- where can I? Quick, tell me.”
You pulled your fingers out and spread your legs wide. “Here, Frankie, here.” The words had barely left your mouth before he was standing over you, one knee resting on the couch as he decorated your pussy with ropes of cum. You gripped his thigh and watched as he worked himself through his orgasm. He was always so pretty when he came, mouth open and dark brown eyelashes grazing against his cheeks.
Frankie bent over to where you leaned against the cushion so he could kiss you, whispering praise between each breath and lick of his tongue. “Gonna get you cleaned up,” he said finally.
You expected him to go get a washcloth from the bathroom - he always made sure it was nice and warm - but instead, he settled back between your thighs. “Frankie?” you squeaked as he started licking your inner thigh.
“I said I need to clean you up, baby. Now take off that shirt and let me see those pretty tits?” He looked up at you with pleading eyes. You would do anything he asked, and in this moment he knew it. You tossed your shirt over your head and Frankie rolled your nipple between his thumb and finger as he dove back down between your thighs.
“Good girl, always so good for me,” he hummed as he licked himself off of you. “Gonna make you come again on my tongue, then I’m gonna make you come on my cock. Gonna have you all night, bebita.”
You threw your head back as he sucked gently on your clit. “All this because I wore your shirt?” you chuckled.
Frankie was too busy to respond. But he made good on his promises that night.
And always left the shirt out for you to wear whenever you wanted.
#frankie morales#frankie morales x f!reader#f!reader#plus size!reader#triple frontier#I missed frankie
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15 questions, 15 10 some friends
i got tagged by: @queerbuck and @gentlebeard, thanks lovelies 🥰😘
ARE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?
don't think so, no. my dad picked up my name somewhere on tv or radio..? and he really liked it. i must admit, it's a cool name bc it's unique, but i like my chosen nickname waaaay more. it's also gender neutral so 🤷🏻♀️
WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?
i rarely cry bc of Reasons but the last time was.. about 3 weeks ago, during a mental breakdown yay
DO YOU HAVE KIDS?
nope. also don't want kids. i'm not fit to be a parent.
WHAT SPORTS DO YOU PLAY/HAVE YOU PLAYED?
not many. i hate exercise lol. did some archery lessons a few years ago - i even got pretty good at it but had to stop, bc it's an expensive hobby. oh and back when i was 15/16 years old i had some horse riding lessons, but that's it.
DO YOU USE SARCASM?
yeah, i think? not as much as i used to, tho.
WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?
eyes, hair and smile, i think
WHAT'S YOUR EYE COLOUR?
blue-grey
SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?
fuck scary movies man. i hate horror. it's not my genre. it's not that i get scared easily... i just think they're boring. gimme all the happy endings pls.
ANY TALENTS?
overthinking (:
(my therapist would scold me for not putting something positive here, too, so... guess i'm a really good cook? it comes easily to me and i really enjoy it. does this count as a talent..?)
WHERE WERE YOU BORN?
(northern) germany. komme aus dem echten norden.
WHAT ARE YOUR HOBBIES?
watching movies/shows/youtube, reading, playing video games, travelling, tech and computers, tumblr/fandom.... guess??
DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS?
noo, not at the moment, sadly.
HOW TALL ARE YOU?
1.78m 🧍🏻♀️
FAVOURITE SUBJECT IN SCHOOL?
school was hell :) but i guess today it would be english, german, physics and history...?
DREAM JOB?
the one i'm doing/learning to do right now. i'm an IT specialist apprentice. :) (the guys you call when the printer doesn't work and who will ask you if you have turned it off and on again ehehe)
no pressure tags: @beccibarnes @underwhelmingalchemist @crowleyraejepsens @crowleyholmes @sherlockig @skinnyscottishbloke @wibbly-wobbly-blog @stedesbonnets and everyone else who wants to do it ✨️
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Stamp of Approval
Picture from: @ichimatsu-of-the-day
Ichimatsu x reader oneshot
Summary: Ichimatsu goes to Y/N’s apartment for the first time and meets her roommate.
Warnings: fluff, cat oc, fem-reader, period cramps, established relationship, fairly new relationship, self-doubt
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Ichimatsu waited outside her apartment building for their date, one she had planned and invited him on. He held a small sad crumbled bouquet for her that had been crumpled on the walk to her building. How she found interest in such a bum like him he would never understand but man, did he want this to work out even if it felt like he was just buying extra time before he eventually screwed everything up and scared her away. He looked down at the ground before hearing the recognizable click of the main entrance opening and there she was but she wasn’t in her usual put-together state. Instead, she was wearing comfortable lounging clothes with slightly tousled hair more similar to his everyday look than hers. Nonetheless, she was still radiant and the most gorgeous person he had the honor of laying eyes on.
“Ichi, Hi!” she beamed.
“H-hey kitten. You feeling okay?” he asked after composing himself, gripping the flowers even tighter than before.
“Haha,” she blushed at the nickname. “I’m okay just having some cramps right now. I had planned a picnic for us but honestly, I don’t think I have the energy to go out today.”
“Huh? Oh, okay. I’ll leave then.” He tried not to show his disappointment at rejection but the looming cloud of grey over him was obvious.
“What!? No don’t leave! I was thinking we could stay in. I made snacks and thought we could cuddle and watch movies. Maybe even take a little nap if we’re feeling it.” She finished.
He turned back. She really just described the perfect date. He couldn’t believe she truly still wanted to spend time with him. That she would allow him into her home. That she would allow him in her presence while she was in pain. Goddamn, he can’t fuck this one up. He REALLY couldn’t fuck this one up. He stared at her starstruck at her offer before realizing he had not said anything to confirm the dream date.
“Okay” he yelped out.
“Great!” she smiled. “Oh, I also wanted you to meet my roommate. She’s also my best friend. I think you’ll really like her.” she added.
Of course. This will be his biggest test yet. Gaining approval from her friends seems like an impossible task for him. Who in their right mind would approve of a useless NEET like him dating an angel like her? Sure they’ll probably be polite in person but once he leaves they’ll definitely set her straight and before long she’ll tell him to hit the bricks. If this is their last date then he’s gonna make it count though, goddamnit. For the first time in a long time, he’s not going down without a fight.
“O-oh, yeah. That would be nice.” he played off as they began going upstairs to her apartment.
Once they made it through the door, he looked around. It was a small apartment. Maybe fit for a couple but definitely no more than one bedroom and the shoes by the door were all Y/N’s. He didn’t see any signs any other people lived there.
“Amelia, I’m back,” she called as they set their shoes by the door. “Come here, I want you to meet my boyfriend!” she called out excitedly.
Ichimatsu continued to slowly look around. Nervous about the impending encounter but didn’t seem like anyone else was home. That’s when he noticed a cat tree by the window and some toys littered the ground.
“She’s usually pretty shy around new people. She might be hiding.” Y/N mentioned. “I’ll check the bedroom.”
“Hiding?” he asked. Pretty weird for someone to hide when called to greet guests but then again he’s been guilty of doing the same. It was then that he felt something on his leg. He looked down to see a little black cat with shining green eyes threading through his legs and purring. He was in awe. Bending down to properly greet the kitty with a soft blush and smile.
“Hello, sweet thing,” he said letting her sniff his hand before petting her. She purred loudly and began rubbing her face on his sweater. She meowed gently. He meowed back. Now sitting on the floor to continue petting her. He pulled one of the cattails out of the crumpled bouquet and began playing with her.
Y/n reentered the room. Greeted by the lovely sight of Ichimatsu playing with her sweet little cat. She enjoyed the scene before he could notice.
“Oh, so this is what I find?” she began. “My best friend in the arms of my lover” she stated dramatically before giggling. “You even took my flowers.” she joked, joining them on the floor and receiving a headbutt from Amelia. Her own little way of saying she picked a good one to bring home.
Ichimatsu looked at her even more in love than before. Her best friend is a cat! A very sweet little cat that loves him and approves of him. And they say black cats are bad luck.
“You could’ve told me she wasn’t a human. I would’ve been way less nervous to meet your roommate.” He mentioned still wearing his wide cute goofy smile.
“Yeah. Sorry. I guess I forget sometimes it’s kinda weird to refer to her like she’s people but I always talk to her like she is.” She scratched the good spot behind her ears earning an even louder purr. “Well, it seems you two have already met. Ichimatsu this is my best friend, Amelia. Amelia, this is Ichimatsu, my boyfriend.” she held the kitty out to him the long way. Amelia meowed in greeting.
Ichimatsu reached his hands out gently squeezing Amelia’s front paw pads in a formal greeting.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Amelia” he responded. Watching Y/N begin playing with the kitty. Waving the cattail in front of her.
“She really does like you. It normally takes her a good while to warm up to anyone. Not that I would expect anything else from an amazing cat whisperer like yourself.”
Ichimatsu was touched by the compliment. He wondered how few others got the privilege of being this close to them and how lucky he was to be in that select few.
“I’m happy to get her stamp of approval,” he said aloud sweetly. Meanwhile, he was thinking if anything happened to either Y/N or Amelia he’d burn the building down and kill everyone in the world.
The sweet kitty gave Ichimatsu’s arm a few headbutts before rubbing her face on his sleeve again.
“Hey, don’t steal him away from me. That’s MY lovely boyfriend, Ami and I intend to keep him as mine.” She joked pulling Amelia into her lap and planting a kiss between her ears.
Is that truly how she saw him? Did she value him that much? So proudly declaring their dating status and cherishing having him. She chose him and wanted him and trusted him to meet her dearest kitty. Before he even realized it, Ichimatsu leaned down and kissed the crown of Y/n’s head. She looked up in surprise with loving eyes. He hooked his finger under her chin bringing her face close to his.
“Not even the sweetest of cats can steal me away from my kitten.” he said with the same adoring look on his face making her swoon. The two joined in a long sweet kiss.
Before long the three of them were cuddled up in a nest of blankets watching movies with snacks around them. Amelia chose to stay in Ichimatsu’s lap purring and kneading the blankets before falling asleep. The flowers he had brought were now in a vase on the table. He wished every day could be like this. He’d found a perfect slice of paradise and never wanted it to go away. The couple chatted lazily laughing and enjoying each other’s presence. Eventually, they both grew pretty sleepy and Y/n dozed off on Ichimatsu holding onto his side with his arm wrapped around her. As his eyes grew heavy he thought he must have already been dead because this was heaven.
A/N: Some mushy gooey stuff because I can finally write again. Might make more Ichimatsu fics. Comment for more! I have ideas again people! Antidepressants are some magical stuff!
#ichimatsu#ichimatsu matsuno#ichimatsu x reader#ichimatsu x y/n#ichimatsu matsudo x reader#fluffy ichimatsu#i'm back#mr. osomatsu#mr. osomatsu x reader#fluff#cat oc#cute fic#fem reader#x reader#reader insert#cat person#black cat#cat boy
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LEE CHRISTMAS (the expendables 2010 series)
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“A Different Direction” (Lee Christmas x Fem!Reader)
| It’s the bar scene from part two, but Lee doesn’t get back with Lacy in this version.
| Reader is always black unless I say differently
| SFW, some very tame pda, alcohol consumption
| this is a rewrite/reimagining of the bar scene
| 1k+ worlds
Sitting next to Ross feels good. Lee even finds himself smiling into his beer as he takes a swig. He’s feeling particularly thankful for having made it through another mission. For surviving another wild blood pumping trip and then being able to come home to you.
His eyes are automatically drawn to you in the packed bar. No amount of anyone else even pinging on his radar as you talked to the bartender, getting the two of you’s second round of drinks because he’d gotten the first.
He gets stuck staring at you. It’s like you’re out of a movie. How you’re moving around, laughing at whatever joke the bartender makes, looks borderline fucking ethereal in his mind. The song playing changes and Lee doesn’t even notice until you do. A smile splits across your face and you mouth about loving the song, and while putting in your order the lines of your body easily catch onto and sway to the beat.
Lee’s not a dancer but at that moment he wants to be moving with you. Hands on your hips behind you as you tease his obvious lack of skill, kissing the curve of your neck when you throw your head back in excitement. He notes some of the song lyrics in his head to look up later.
He must be damn near enthralled because Ross nudges him with a chuckle and he still doesn’t dare look away.
“I gotta say, my friend, I am glad you decided to heal from that other girl.”
Lee shrugs.
“She wasn’t bad, she just…wasn’t for me in the end.”
Ross’s brows go up in a way that says ‘you think’ but he ultimately agrees.
“Her cheating on you ain’t enough to make her a bad person?”
Lee shakes his head and spits out his usual reasoning. Sometimes people just made bad split second dicisions that end up fucking everything up. Shit happened. He would know.
“Nah, she’s just morally dubious.”
From the corner of his eye he can just see the bewildered look Ross throws his way.
“Which is?”
“The split side of being morally grey,” he purses his lips with a slight grimace. “The effects are murky.”
“Oh yeah,” Ross intones and Lee knows he’s making fun of him. “Real fancy way of confirming she just has a world class cheating gene ruling her decisions.”
“Someone clearly stabbed you in the heart, bud, people do make mistakes sometimes. I knew your heart was nonexistent but this is a new level, the absence of light isn’t even dark enough for what’s going on in you.” Lee takes a moment to let his shit eating smirk be noticed by the other. “You want me to kiss it better?”
His team lead lets out a gruff huff of laughter and shakes his head.
“I’ll pass.” He nods at you, “Just please tell me you’re actually going through with this one.”
Lee takes a swig of his beer and only takes his eyes off of you for a second to look at Ross like he’s crazy.
“Course I am,” he points at you with the tip of his bottle and you just so happen to look over at him and smile at the same time. It lights him up from the inside and he smiles back even as he talks. “I’d be crazy not to marry her.”
Ross grunts in acknowledgement and pats Lee’s knee as you start heading over.
“I’m just glad you’re not still entertaining being in a relationship with a woman whose first instinct was to cheat on you. Y/n is good people though, she makes you less unbearable.”
Lee rolls his eyes before he’s completely caught up in you again.
You smile at them as you get within spitting distance and Lee can’t help but track the way that unlike with Lacy, when he was stuck on desperately trying to make it work with her, the guys don’t either ignore you when you’re not directly engaging with them or give you stilted responses.
Barney doesn’t do any of those things with you. When you ask him things he answers about as happily as he ever does anything he doesn’t despise and when you greet him he responds while actually looking at you.
Lee had honestly never realized before how much the guys disliked Lacy until he finally gave up on them and found you almost a year later. In fact even though the three of you are a little separated from the other’s table the team still takes the time to greet you, even Gunner, as you walk past them.
He reaches for you, in the pretty dress he’d had the pleasure of watching you pick out for tonight, and when you readily grasp back at him he pulls you into his lap. You settle there like you were made for it and he can’t help the smile that splits across his face as he watches.
“Hey you,” you murmur. He brings your hands up where they’re still connected to kiss at your knuckles.
“Hey,” he murmurs back against the ample darkness of the skin there.
You smile and duck your head at the intensity he regards you with. Stunning. You squeeze his hand, shy smile still in place, and then turn to Ross.
“Hi to you too Barney.”
At your words Ross actually glances up and fully acknowledges that you’ve talked to him. He even gives you one of his rare angst riddled half smiles. It’s genuine, the man’s just allergic to anything the elicits too happy of a response Lee’s sure of it.
“Hey Y/n, how you been?”
“Fine,” you shrug, sparkling eyes briefly flitting to Lee’s. “Better now that Lee’s back though. You think next time you could fit me into the schedule? A month’s a long time to not have his little accent bouncing off my walls.”
And Ross chuckles in response. Wow, Lee really was a love sick fool with Lacy if he hadn’t realized just how much his closest friend couldn’t stand her.
“I’ll make sure to check my calendar for you next time,” he nods at him. “Though why anyone would rush to hear his badgering British shtick is lost on me.”
You pat at his hand as you lean into Ross’s space, “Maybe I’m a little crazy,” you mock confess.
“Hey!” Lee exclaims as Ross chuckles. The older man presses his hands to his knees as he throws him a teasing smirk before standing. Lee tamps down the urge to flip him off and pout at the way you’re laughing with him. Ross nods amiably at you both before lumbering off to join the group.
Once he’s gone, and all eyes from the table are not on y’all anymore, Lee turns to you and finally lets himself pout.
“What are you giggling at, eh? Just last night you were begging me to talk to you.”
You laugh some more, a snort sneaking in in the middle, and pivot towards him. A kiss is delicately placed at the corner of his mouth.
“Don’t sulk,” you say against his lips. “It’s unattractive.”
You pull away with a tiny smile pulling at plump glossy lips and Lee stares at you open mouthed before shaking his head. He pulls you to him more securely, letting go of your hand to wrap both his arms around your waist. You nuzzle your head onto his shoulder and kiss at the dip of his neck. He laughs down at you and then kisses those smiling lips. It’s brief but it makes his heart pound as you give him your full attention. The two of you were captured by the other.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” his eyes dance as he speaks to you. “I’d miss you calling me handsome.”
Your laughter fills his ears, and call him a romantic all you want he already knows, but that sound fills his lungs with fresh air and renews him with hope that not everything in the world’s utter shit.
NOTES: Was watching Expendables and I like Jason Statham, you know the drill.
#lee christmas#the expendables#black!reader#black y/n#lee christmas x black!reader#lee christmas x reader#the expendables imagine#jason statham#black reader
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ahhhhh @crowleyholmes chii my darling my love thank you for the tag!!! (hope y'all don't mind that i started a new thread ahdhfkdkfk)
Are you named after anyone?
no, im not; im named after this (i received a cd of their greatest hits from at least one person - often more - as a birthday present every bloody year from like 6-14yo. genuinely had at least 8 copies at one point)
When was the last time you cried?
i cry at anything, and do it often - usually a few frustrated cries before i pull up the big girl pants - but last proper cry was probably a couple of weeks ago to my mum
Do you have kids?
not yet 🥰 (would like to!!!)
What sports do you play / have you played?
i don't play much of anything anymore but i used to be into hockey and netball as a teen, very enid blyton
Do you use sarcasm?
of course not
What is the first thing you notice about people?
sounds silly but in general, their body language? like, are they comfortable, are they shy, are they holding themselves confidently etc
Eye colour?
dark blue, almost grey!
Scary movies or happy endings?
tbh, im not the hugest fan of either? like dgmw i like a happy ending story as much as anyone, and yeah okay i prefer it to scary, but -- 🤌 peak story is a 'not-quite-happy, not-quite-sad' story... a 'it is what it is' narrative, or better yet one that leaves you with more questions than you started with
Any talents?
im very happy being a jack of all trades in most respects, tbh✨ except excel actually, im pretty good at excel and take pride in that. freak in the sheets
Where were you born?
in a seaside town in south devon, UK 🥰 somewhere that looks like this (for like. 2 days a year, usually the august bank holiday)
What are your hobbies?
i do love a good walk, i live near moorland so a small drive and then a nice, brisk (and often fucking freezing) stroll 💕 but i also do a fair bit of embroidery, furniture restoration (i have quite a few retro pieces), and gardening. obviously love a doom scroll, and slug days are usually for playing video games, and reading
Do you have any pets?
one! my egg mcmuffin boy, never done a thing wrong in his life:
How tall are you?
around 5'8-9, tbh i don't even know but fairly tall
Favourite subject?
history, probably then followed by english, foreign languages, and maths
Dream job?
once upon a time i wanted to be an interpreter lmaooo but tbh im fairly happy in the field im in now - work to live, rather than live to work. if i could wave a wand though, probably something creative - graphic design or video editing
no pressure tags!!! (apologies if you've already been tagged bbys im flying blind here) @robinwithay @sabotage-on-mercury @weasleywrinkles @dontbotheraziraphale @idliketobeatree and anyone else who'd like to join!!!💕
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realizing i have a whole bunch of “hope you’re ok” type messages from the past 1.5 months….SORRY GUYS!!! literally nothing happened!!! i just decided to stop posting for a while because i had had those two posts both blow up within a week of each other which of course was an unfriendly reminder that if you go more than like 3 degrees of separation outside of your immediate circle on this website you start encountering people who are genuinely too stupid to be alive. and i went through that whole “what do i get out of posting on here? NOTHING!” conversation with myself which of course was the same conversation that infamously led me to quit my job and move out of my shithole apartment/temporarily across the country 6 months ago and obviously not posting on a website is a much easier decision to make than either of those So. and then i didn’t post on here that i was doing that because i had no idea how long it would stick and i didn’t want to have a Goodbye Forever(See You Tonight!) moment. and then a few days after deleting the app i was like wow…i have so many more hours in the day all of a sudden! so i did not come back even to say goodbye which of course made it look like i had disappeared without a trace. SAD!
anyway…i have an extremely temporary part-time “job” now helping my mom’s friend move out of her house which she has dubbed “grey gardens” for reasons i assume are self-explanatory. which is the main thing that has changed since i’ve been gone. AND she’s actually paying me more per hour than target did 😃 so Yeah. and here’s some other thoughts i’ve had in the past 1.5 months that could’ve been posts, in no particular order and as a wall of text with little to no punctuation for your inconvenience:
Search party “when you know you know you know you know” scene scene of all time Daily Dot article about tiktok about walmart customer who loudly asked where the douches were or some shit and someone commented “target customers would NEVER” literally YES they would what planet are you living on My mom asked me in the middle of hobby lobby why she’s seeing so much stuff online about folding chairs now My mom forgot who mitch mcconnell is AGAIN My brother’s friend alex sent my brother a snapchat from behind the wheel saying “fuck yeah nerve damage!!!” My brother’s manager at dunkin who they demoted him to bring over is already quitting I finally met my nephew’s father and he wore his cookout hat and an anime t-shirt to his son’s first birthday party and he was too scared to say a single word to me and later my sister said he said he wants me to bake his birthday cake and also asked if i smoke weed because i’m “so creative” and this man is almost 28 years old My dad finally got rid of the couch i had been telling him he should get rid of for 2 years because his mom was coming to visit and he didn’t want her to see it There was an arrested development reference in the barbie movie did anyone else notice. Also this was my birthday cake that i made:
and here are some hounds:
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That one scene from Hercules the Disney movie
Captain cold : I can’t believe you’re getting so walked up about some hero
Captain boomerang : this one is different. He’s honest and sweet. Captain cold : oh please 
Captain boomerang : he would never do anything to hurt me 
Captain cold : he’s the flash 
No, 'cause Boomer is probably so defensive about it. Cold would rather die than admit he cares, but he saw how Speedster can and will fuck you up, so whenever the two r just chilling around him, he gets full-on nitpicky.
Because of Flash's speed healing, I honestly doubt he has a lot of scars, especially from Digger, but the other way around? It's never anything too dangerous, usually a smaller cut that healed badly in the prison or something alike, but he has more than many scars from our fav Speedster. It's nothing that's too noticeable usually and his biggest harm was breaking his nose once or twice, which with how many times it was broken already makes it less than worth noting...
...for anyone, but Leonard Snart himself and his picky nature. Does he intend to make Flash feel bad with his snarky comments? Not exactly, but he's happy with it, even if they won't break up. Golden Glider absolutely adores it and tries her best to comfort Digger by saying "It's just in his big brother nature", but she's also not sure about what Flash wants from this relationship.
I wrote before that the JLA would need some time to understand that Digger is dating him without a second reason, but the Rouges? Some of them would eventually accept that Captain Boomerang and The Flash are dating just because they like each other and no-one is planning on changing their sides, even if Boomer is already on the grey-ish spectrum (tho most Rouges enjoy being on the grey-ish spectrum), some of them would never understand.
Trickster, for one, adores the fact that he can now hang out with the Flasher and just fool around! He's pretty fond of it and Boomer looks 100 times happier than before, so he's okay with it as long as it won't mess up anything.
Mirror Motherfucker- I mean, Master likes that he can annoy Barry more, but his fun is usually cut short because if there's one thing this man can do, it's running. The second Boomer is ready for their date or just happy to get somewhere else, he disappears. Him and Mirror boy ain't becoming besties any time soon, sadly. Lisa, who adores M&M(s), is a little sad because of it.
I feel like Captain Cold could warm up to the idea- (haha, get it?) but over all, he would not be a fan. You can see your totally-not-friend get his ass handed by a guy this many times before not trusting him with said totally-not-friend.
Weather Wizard would take a hot moment to warm up to the Speedster, but in the end, he'd be happy for the two (CC: Et tu, Mark?). He is the one and probably only Rouge that is willing to listen to Digger's rants about speedy. He's not trusting Barry per se, but he's not unhappy about the two together - even if there's no gain for him in it.
Golden Glider, a sour sweetheart she is, acts way more happily about it than she is - if she'll learn that Mark gets the juicy info from Digi, she's silently seething. Might be a little too much like her brother sometimes...
Heatwave, gods bless him, is slightly bitter about the fact that the Suicide Squad knows before them. Like, what do you mean people that kidnapped you know before us, your friend- he means, coworkers! He sulks a little, but as he's pretty happy for Digger, he is not as happy for Flash.
Also, a lil thing:
(expect possible ColdWeather/Hail aka CC x WW in the closest future <3 bc i lov 'em
Also the chatfic will happen!! I'll post the link to it, bc this mf is going to be on ao3, sorry <3 ships expected: Boomerflash, HarleyIvy, Flag x Deadshot for fun, Mirror Master x Golden Glider possibly, ColdWeather/Hail probably
It will be a chiller, easy to read and write ff! More info later <3)
#idk#probably bad english#bsing trough life#<3#flash x captain boomerang#art#ssktjl#boomerflash#fanart#captain boomerang#The flash rouges#Rouges#mirror master#captain cold#dc comics#Weather wizard#the trickster#flash rogues#captain on captain violence#my tag for cc & cb friendship fr#Golden glider#gal am so sorry that i called u star glider n light glider last time#Its not u its me#I think uhh mirror man n gliding gal are kinda canon?? But i might be reading their vibes wrong#“U need to learn me how to ice skate <3” and “you just like the fact that you can see yourself in the ice :P <3” r kinda flirty for me?? Id#That prev tag is paraphrasing their canon convo btw <3
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yayyyyy @sonic-fizz tagged me to answer these 15 questions this is so old web core slayyyyyyyyyyyyyy love it thx <3
1. are you named after anyone
eh i was named after a grandparent in a slapdash way. like they just chopped off half the name and called it a day...
2. when was the last time you cried?
literally probably like 24-48 hours ago in the car thinking about how doomed i am (this is not true.). or maybe it was reading a sad article...i don't know. I tear up a lot but full on sobbing bawling was in mid-Dec and a more sustained sniffle crying was when i was hungover and miserable about my tortured loneliness and doom for the future on new year's day lol
3. do you have kids?
omg...no...the microplastics in my womb and doom in my genome and also i'm broke and single and american
4. what sports do you play/have played?
i swim but it's like in the way that other ppl take walks around the neighborhood a few times a week. sports were so fucking abysmal for me growing up that i feel i am unlikely to ever return
5. do you use sarcasm?
occasionally...i've grown out of it for the most part though. there are better ways to be funny in a lot of situations...i am silly goofy mostly, or use observational humor and wacky metaphors etc
6. what is the first thing you notice about people?
i'd love to be like 'a warm smile :-)' but if i'm being totally honest i'm scanning their clothing/hairstyle/grooming etc to scan for anyone likely to judge me based on my failure to conform to gender and modern consumerism...which isn't fair to others, i know......but sometimes you just see someone in like salon highlights barrel curls full makeup suburban drip and you're like hmmm eeeeeek scary! I think this is a vestigial defense mechanism from my relentless failure to dress right and be liked growing up. need 2 keep an eye out for the freaks and geeks and allies you know (but i'm so lucky to be in circles where everyone is dressing androgynously, having full on body hair everywhere, no makeup is the norm rather than the exception, funky used clothes and practical work/outdoors gear is the norm, etc. ok i'm getting off track...). i also notice people's height relative to my own bc i'm a bit insecure about towering over some people even though i'm not that tall.... :-( this stuff says way more about me than about anyone else... :-( i will say though that i'm pretty good about ignoring these first readings and giving people a chance once i get to know them. this is just the knee jerk first impression stuff
7. what’s your eye colour?
pale blue/grey. sorry :-/
8. scary movies or happy endings?
i like SAD ENDINGS of LOVERS' DEATHS and UNREQUITED PASSIONS and FAILED DREAMS and SCARRED MEMORIES....
9. any talents?
nothing like above and beyond. but there's a number of things i'm pretty sufficient at without trying too hard which is nice i guess. gardening, cooking from scratch w/o recipes, stringing together a sentence or a laugh...
10. where were you born?
my beautiful steel city...kisses 2 her majesty.......
11. what are your hobbies?
swimming gardening fermenting cooking writing reading going to indie films with friends of discerning tastes attending potlucks oh and LAYING FACE DOWN IN MY BED.....
12. do you have any pets?
i wish :-( renter problems......
13. how tall are you?
5’11" or so i have not been to the doctor in so many years LOL....
14. favourite subject in school?
hated school but hated the humanities the least...i loved my filmmaking class in college the most probably
15. dream job?
MOVIE DIRECTOR...FAMOUS AUTEUR NOVELIST...HOMEMAKER...
I tag @fieryphrazes, @iwrotemrtambourineman, @chriselliottfanblog, and @chekovsphaser from my notes recently...and literally anyone who wants to and is bored you can say i tagged you. in fact i would love to read it i think tag games are so fun and i love to read them ok yay byeeee
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I wonder what henrys reaction would be to you watching a film he's in but you didn't know he was in it before you started watching.
Since you'd moved in with Henry there were some basic ground 'rules' or agreements put in place, mostly so that when you were both there and not off on filming schedules you didn't get under each others feet. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, but spending every free second with someone can drive a person insane. It was agreed that one night a week Henry had unlimited time to play games on his PC and you could watch whatever you wanted on TV, no matter how trashy, scary, or corny it was. Anything from 'reality' shows that were hyped for the cameras to old movies, after all thanks to Henry's Netflix contract he had unlimited worldwide access to their entire catalogue with no location restrictions.
Tonight was no different. In between jobs, the house was clean and tidy, Kal walked and now snoring in the hallway, Henry had pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose as you'd made your way into separate rooms, the whirr of Henry's PC starting up louder than the Dun Dun of Netflix loading. Scrolling through the titles that had been recommended based on your recent views, you spied an older movie from well over a decade ago, and upon checking the brief bio you saw it had the guy from the Marvel show you liked and also the other dude from the show where everyone was doing magic and it all seemed quite Russian.
An hour into the movie you were entranced, staring at the screen as the story about the fallen star had captured your attention completely, not even noticing the noises from the room next door had stopped until Henry had come sit next to you;
"What you watch... Oh, Stardust"
Henry would regularly trot back and forth from the kitchen to his gaming room to get drinks and snacks, but he never usually stopped to watch with you.
"Yeah, i've never seen it, but it was recommended to me"
"Never seen it?" he enquired; "Oh..."
An hour later the movie was starting to conclude its various plot lines, and in slower moments you would comment about how much the actors had gone onto bigger projects.
"Yeah, there's a few familiar faces in there" Henry agreed
"Charlie Cox has done Daredevil and loads on stage in the West End"
"Uh-huh"
"And right at the start Ben Barnes played Tristan's Dad, he's really done well with Shadow & Bone. And of course Claire Danes was amazing in Homeland"
"Right... anyone else?" he asked, but you shushed him where it was one of the final scenes, a young Sienna Miller as Victoria sitting in the crowd as her beau Humphrey smiled and winked. There was something... something familiar... you squinted at the screen before turning your head slowly, Henry grinning like an absolute fool from the other end of the sofa. Your eyes darted back and forth between him and Humphrey before you were back on Henry and he did the same wink and smile.
You stood quickly, the gasp that filled your lungs seemed to be endless;
"NO!"
Henry laughed; "Yes"
"YOU ARE NOT FUCKING HUMPHREY"
He reached out and grabbed you, pulling you onto his lap;
"Technically, you are fucking Humphrey"
You scrambled for the remote to rewind and pause it, looking back and forth between the screen and your boyfriend;
"You're Humphrey. Oh my god, i literally watched the whole movie and didn't even figure it out!"
"Well, it was a particularly awful wig and fake moustache"
"But... still... I thought i'd seen your entire back catalogue!"
"I guess not" he pressed a kiss to your nose before his hands started to wander beneath your t-shirt; "It was pre-Tudors, it was filmed close to two decades ago, i've changed a bit"
You smiled and ran your fingertips over the greying hairs on his temples and in his beard; "Yeah, you've gotten more handsome"
"Why thank you. But promise me one thing"
"Sure"
"Don't bother with Laguna, its the absolute worst. Its two hours of your life you'll never get back" he paused for a moment; "And probably the same for Hellraiser and Blood Creek"
You laughed;
"Too late, i've seen both of those"
Henry did a fake exagerated sigh; "Really?"
"Oh definitely, but they were pure gratuitious viewing, younger you was delicious"
"And now older me?"
"Is a whole damn meal" the credits started to roll and Henry stood with you in his arms; "Now take me to bed and let me enjoy that meal"
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Who We Are - Steve Harrington (1)
Prologue | Steve 2 | Eddie | Billy | Ian
The two of them had been friends for twenty-two years now. They'd grown up right next to each other, casually holding hands for all their lives. What neither of them had ever considered, though, was that their relationship could ever be anything else. They were just them, Steve and her. Right?
Attention! - This is the second part of 'Grey Overalls and Rainy Days'. Please read that one first if you haven't yet!
Information you might need ♥ ~
Word Count: 15.648
3rd Person (She/Her)
Flashbacks will be presented in completely cursive to better distinguish between now and then, since tumblr doesn't really have the best typesetting options.
In this chapter you will find:
Rain, cursing, a down in the dumps Steve, slow-burn childhood bestfriends to lovers, a lot of physical contact, canon tinkering, flashbacks and a fuck ton of spoilers for the 80s movie 'Beaches'.
There will be mentions of food and eating, blood, canon level violence, loss, grief, shock, death, sex, trauma, bad parenting, sexual harrassment (specifically at dates) alcohol and reader having her period so please remain careful, my children!
At one point reader will be loosely compared to Molly Ringwald, but to not alienate anyone I'll explicitly say that it is not because reader looks like her. It can be, if you want it to, but it's definitely not required. I point that out loud and clear and Steve will do so too, so please don't feel put out by that.
Enjoy ♥
The days rain still lay in the air, although the drops themselves had stopped – for now. Petrichor was still wafting all around them, now with tiny hints of cool night air. Hawkins population was slowly but surely getting home for the night. Mothers ushered their kids ahead of them, teenage girls locked their bedroom doors but unlocked their windows and most of Hawkins general stores were flipping their signs from ‘OPEN’ to ‘CLOSED’.
That was something she did as well.
Eddie held the door open and she skipped out into the night, glad she decided to not deal with the taxes for now. The metalhead himself was talking about a campaign he would love to throw for the party, but didn’t really have the time to and she was reminded of how good a story teller he was. No wonder the boys still loved to invite him around as a dungeon master whenever they got the chance.
“So, I was thinking I’d add in this really messed up dragon hybrid and he’s g- hey isn’t that Harringtons car?” Blinking at the rather rapid change of subject, she followed his pointing and damn straight. That was the red BMW she’d spent all day cleaning.
“Uh…yeah, actually. It is.” Her brows furrowed as she squinted into the night, trying to make out the familiar lines of Steve’s nose and hair.
And sure enough, there he was. Slumped behind the driver’s seat with his head down, one hand grabbing the steering wheel. “What the…Uhm, Eddie, gimme a minute.”
“Sure, go ahead. I’ll wait in the van?”
“Yeah, thanks.” With one shimmy, she shouldered her bag properly and jogged on over to Steve. He didn’t look up as she came closer, not giving her much choice but to knock at the window. Inside, Steve flinched, his hand letting go of the wheel and grabbing his chest. The shock didn’t last long though, because just a moment later he was rolling the window down.
“Jesus, don’t do that to me. You’ll give me a heart attack.”
“Your fault for not noticing me.” Chuckling, she leaned down to peer into the car, trying to see the mysterious flower shop girl. Why would she be there? Well, it wasn’t the first time Steve made a pit stop on one of his dates just to drive her home real quick. The red BMW, however, was completely empty aside from Steve. “Steve, what are you doing here? I thought you had a date.” The man in question just sighed and let his head fall back against the headrest. There was a slight pout to his face. “Steve?”
“Listen. Wanna cash in those burgers now? We could grab some and then go…I dunno, somewhere.”
“Uhm…I mean, yeah. Sure. Why not. Let me just tell Eddie, okay?”
“Eddie?”
“Yeah, he came by earlier and offered to drive me home.”
“Oh. Okay, yeah, go ahead. I’ll wait.”
“But Steve, what about…?”
“Just…forget about that, okay?” The way he said it was more than pleading. Even if she didn’t like it, she nodded and jogged on over to Eddie’s car. He was already inside, the van running and waiting. Unlike Steve, he immediately noticed her getting closer and rolled down the window.
“You’re going with him, I take?”
“Yeah, sorry Eddie. I think…I don’t know, I think he needs some company.”
“It’s fine, Princess, you go check on him. But I demand full intel tomorrow!” She chuckled.
“I’ll see what I can do ‘bout that. Thanks Eddie.”
“See ya, princess!” The van roared to life with a deep growl and she stepped away from the window. It didn’t take long for Eddie to leave the car park behind. She reached Steve’s car just as quickly. A simple pull on the door handle and she plopped into the seat with a content sigh.
Steve’s car just felt… right.
Over the years, she’d spent so much time in that passenger seat that it felt more like home than the single wide she actually called home. Steve next to her watched her buckle herself in before wordlessly putting the car into gear. She didn’t ask where they were going, he didn’t offer any intel on the matter.
They didn’t have to.
Neither of them spoke. Steve veered the car through what Hawkins called ‘evening rush’ with practiced ease while she gazed out of the window next to her. She could see Joyce Byers locking up the door to Melvald’s General Store, still in her uniform. Next door in Radio Shack, there was still light burning. Maybe some last-minute repairs or something. Or maybe the guy working there had forgotten to turn them off. Who knew?
New, fresh rain was starting to dribble down the window, obscuring her view. Within moments, the world outside was turned into a blurry mess of colours and shapes. She could still vaguely tell where they were simply because it was the town she’d lived in for all of her life, but it got harder and harder. Soon, she had to turn her eyes to the windshield, it being the only place that still offered a semi-clear view. The windshield wipers were going left and right in their own rhythm, as if something invisible spurred them on. Well, she knew how they worked. But where was the mystery in that?
Watching the wipers do their job was…hypnotic. Without actively choosing to do so, her eyes were following their path left and right and left and right and she could feel herself get drowsy. Though that was probably less the wipers and more the fact that she’d gotten up early and worked a lot more than expected. Her day was supposed to be mainly office stuff plus the cunninghams car, and yet…
“Tired?” Steve asked, his finger rhythmically tapping against the steering wheel, led by the indicators soft ‘click click click click’. She sighed and sank back further into the seat.
“Yeah.”
“You could’ve said something. I can take you home.”
“It’s fine. It’s just the drive.” Steve hummed lightly.
“Of course it is.”
The boy pulled into the car park of Rosemary’s Diner with ease. If it weren’t so dangerous and irresponsible, she would’ve challenged him to do it with his eyes closed. Honestly, he might actually pull it off. They’d been here often enough. While most people preferred Benny’s Diner, both Steve and her had always chosen Rosemary’s whenever they got a chance. Mostly when it was just the two of them.
Sure, she’d pestered Ian sometimes to go with her. And, far as she was aware, Steve had brought some dates here over the years. Both of them had dragged their little group of misfits with them more than once and while they rarely complained, they both knew that this place never clicked quite as well with the rest of them. Maybe it was the food, maybe it was the atmosphere and maybe it was just the fact that she and Steve had been coming here ever since they were old enough to go to a diner on their own.
Inside, the lights were bright and welcoming, just like always.
Steve held the door for her and she stepped inside, both manoeuvring the etablissement with well-practised ease. Down the checkered tiles to the second to last booth – second to last, never the one before or after that – where both of them dropped down into their favoured seats at the same time. Her back was facing the door, while Steve liked to be able to survey the entire room. Menus were pushed aside; they would order the usual thing anyway. Doreen, their favourite waitress, saw them from afar and nodded towards them. Not to indicate anything, just recognition.
The seats hissed familiarly with every move she made as she drew her legs under her in a position that should be uncomfortable but really wasn’t. Steve was already slouched back into the burgundy leather of his booth, his face…complicated.
That was probably the best thing to call it.
It wasn’t an expression she knew from Steve, which should be impossible after over twenty years together. But then again, one was never done learning. That probably applied to people as well.
“Hey you guys, nice to have you back!” She raised her head to meet the dark brown eyes of Doreen with a smile. The older waitress was grinning down at them, her braided hair pulled back into a ponytail that made her seem a lot younger than she was. There were some stains on her pale-yellow uniform, likely coffee, but other than that she looked at dewy as ever.
“Hiya Doreen. How’s it going?” She offered while Steve just nodded semi-friendly. Normally, she would have kicked his shins for that, but she accepted it for today. At least he’d greeted her at all. Doreen had noticed too, apparently, because she threw him a knowing glance but kept quiet.
“Ah, you know. Same as always in this old thing. Enough guests to keep it running but never many.” She shrugged. “You’re getting the usual?”
“Sure, we are.”
“Neat-o! So that’d be two cheeseburgers – one without onions – a large basket of fries with mayonnaise and ketchup and two shakes – strawberry and vanilla. Did I miss anything?” She couldn’t help but grin at that.
“Perfect like always, Doreen. Thanks.” Doreen nodded and turned on her heels, and she remembered another thing. “Oh hey, Doreen?”
“Yeah?”
“Add a coffee to that. As strong as you can legally brew it, yeah?”
“Oooh, the order changed. Exciting!” Steve rolled his eyes and she grinned. “Consider it done, sweet thing. Won’t be long.”
“Thanks!” Doreen strolled back over to the kitchen, leaving both her and Steve to themselves. The latter was still quietly staring into the void, his mind clearly somewhere else. Worry dipped her brows as she watched him. She’d seen Steve after bad dates often enough. Sometimes he was annoyed, sometimes he was angry. Sometimes he was sad but tried to act like he wasn’t, fully knowing that she knew, and sometimes he was just plain sad. Those were the things she expected. A ranty, maybe whiny, Steve. A mopey, pouty Steve. Maybe even a sad one.
But he wasn’t any of those things.
On the contrary, behind the complicatedness of it all, he looked…defeated? Reserved? Maybe both. Like a man that had failed. Or better: A man that had given up. She’d seen that face on someone else before, and it hadn’t been a good thing. She didn’t really like seeing it on Steve.
“I’m fine.” He said and she blinked in surprise.
“What?”
“I’m fine.” Steve sighed, kicking her dangling leg softly. “Stop staring holes in my face. And unfurrow your brows, you’ll get wrinkly, old girl.” She scoffed.
“I wouldn’t need to furrow my brows if your soul stopped taking a smoke break, you know?” But her fingers rubbed over the space between her brows anyway. “’Old girl’, really? Tsk.” Steve rolled his eyes and she turned towards the large window to her left. She couldn’t see much with the outside being nearly pitch black and the inside brightly lit. So instead of seeing the car park, she saw her own sorry expression staring back at her.
“Shit.” Edging closer to the window, she surveyed her own appearance with disdain.
She looked horrendous.
Since she came here directly from work, she was still clad in her stupid overalls. She should really start packing a change of clothes…She didn’t have too many nice clothes anyway but the grey work overalls must have been amongst the worst she owned. They were built for practicality and comfort, with a whole bunch of pockets and the loose fit. But they didn’t look great. This one, the one she was wearing today, was especially bad since she hadn’t gotten around to altering it. It was an ill fit in most places and it was stained. Fine for work, not so much for anything else.
And, of course, her hair was a mess as well. It stuck up in weird places and It was extremely greasy after a days’ worth of work. She had a sweaty job, alright? And in front of her boys – and Steve – she didn’t mind. They’d seen her look worse and she’d seen them look worse. But she felt iffy sitting in a diner like that. God, she hadn’t even wiped her face, had she? It was probably greasy as well.
“You could have told me I look like crap.” She muttered, wiping her face with her sleeve before getting to work on her hair. She couldn’t salvage much but she could damn well try.
“You look like you always do.”
…Ouch.
She send the boy a glare and let go of her hair. Not better, but at least differently messy. Oh well, it was what it was. Nothing she could do about it now, was there?
Steve was back to being zoned out. So much so, that he didn’t even notice that Doreen brought their food until she kicked his shins. He flinched, blinked, and looked around confusedly. She rolled her eyes and grappled for his plate. Using just two fingers, she’d picked out the pickles Steve so seemed to detest and replaced them with one of her tomatoes. Sure, he could just have ordered the burger without pickles and with extra tomatoes, but why bother?
Happy with her fixing job, she got to the fries, each one loaded up with mayonnaise, before tackling her burger. The smell alone caused her to feel extremely ravenous, to be perfectly honest, and she nearly melted when her teeth sunk into the goodness that was this burger.
With each bite, she felt the crispy softness of the bun, the crunch of fresh salad and tomatoes as well as the greasy cheese-patty combo. And in combination with the slight tang of Rosemary’s mystery sauce? To die for. Really, in an apocalypse she would likely murder for this burger alone.
Steve didn’t seem to agree, though. At least not today. Usually, the boy inhaled his food much faster than she ever could and she always had to battle him for the fries. Otherwise, he’d eat all of them and leave her high and dry for some oily potato sticks. Likely the reason why she’d started to eat the fries first and her burger last, since Steve did it exactly the other way around.
But today, the Harrington boy picked apart his burger slowly and thoughtfully. Sauce and grease quickly covered his fingers, which he didn’t seem to notice. Only a few bites made it into his mouth each time he looked conscious before he was right back to mindlessly playing with his food. He didn’t say a thing while they ate - and sure, she was more than fine with just existing around him. The two of them were long over the need to always do something together. She couldn’t count the days they had wasted away without talking, lounging around in the same bubble but each doing their own thing. They were masters at just existing in the same space.
In combination with his current mood, however, she felt her patience start to wear thin. It wasn’t even really because of him or his mood, it was because she didn’t know what was going on and thus didn’t know what to do about it. She couldn’t really help Steve if he didn’t open his big gob.
After nearly fourty five minutes of complete silence, spent exclusively watching him pick apart the burger into goddamn atoms, she pulled out her wallet and threw some cash on the table. Enough to pay for the both of them. That, finally, got Steve out of his reverie.
“Hey, we said it’s my treat.”
“Yeah, fuck that, Harrington. You can pay me back later.” Sighing, she fished out some wet wipes from her handbag and wiped his hands. He just let it happen, watching her closely as she wiped remnants of grease and sauce of his phalanges. “Come on. Let’s go somewhere, I need to stretch my legs before I fall asleep sitting up.” He winced.
“Sorry. I can take you home now.”
“Why, trying to get rid of me now, are we?”
“You know that’s never it.”
“Yeah, I know. Come on, up with you.” Not letting go of his hand, she rose from her seat and pulled him up with her. “Bye Doreen!”
“Bye guys!” The older woman waved them goodbye from behind the counter, not even checking if they’d left money. Even if they did forget, they’d be back before it could actually be missed. Not that that ever happened before.
Outside, Steve naturally tried to head towards the car, but her hand in his stopped him. Confused, he turned towards her, keys already in hand and pointing towards his car.
“The car is over there.”
“Sure is. But we’re not going to your car just yet.”
“Huh?” She rolled her eyes.
“I told you. I need to stretch my legs. The ten steps from our booth to your car don’t really do the trick.”
“Wait, what do you mean?” Groaning, she let go of his hand only to get behind him and push him along.
“I mean: Move your arse, Harrington, we’re taking a god damn walk.”
“Ugh, but it’s raining.”
“Cry me a river!” She scoffed and pushed on. “You know, you’re no basketballer anymore. Some exercise might actually be good for you, dumbass.”
“I hate walks!”
“Move your god damn legs!” He did, reluctantly so.
At first, he was going annoyingly slow, obviously trying to not get too far away from the car in case she suddenly decided it was enough walking for a day. The more steps they took however, the more he picked up on speed. It took only a few minutes for them to reach a comfortable pace, easily falling into a rhythmic step beside each other.
The sky was still leaking above them, rain coating them in a fine spray of water that would feel incredibly wet the longer they left it there. But, in a way, it was a nice walk anyway. And what did her mum always say?
‘Light exercise is the best way to sort out a muddled mind, pumpkin. And nothing helps more than walking. Back home, I’d often walk the length of a town, just trying to get my brain in order!’
The memory had her throat tighten up for a moment.
One should really thing that four years would take care of grief, but in the end they didn’t do shit. It still felt the same, whenever she thought about her family. That couldn’t be normal, could it? Or maybe it was. Who knew.
Steve’s shoulder bumped against hers, pulling her attention back to him. Once again, he looked lost in thought. Less zoned out, but still not completely here. His brown eyes, nearly black with the absence of light, were pointedly focused on the ground below them and his hands were shoved into the pockets of his jean-jacket.
With another sigh, she looped her arm through his and looked up at him. He barely turned his face towards her, brows raised – a silent half-question. Which, she decided, wasn’t enough right now. She slightly shook his arm, pushing him to give her his full attention. Thankfully, he did.
“Okay, pretty boy. This is where I stop asking and you start talking. Because I’m slowly losing my mind here.”
“Boredom or worry?”
“Half half.” A deep sigh and he looked around for nothing in particular.
“Me saying something like ‘shitty date, is all’ is probably not going to cut it, is it?”
“Yeah, no. Try again.”
“…Shitty date is probably still true.”
“Okay? Why was the date shitty, then?” Steve scoffed.
“Probably because I have shitty taste in girls. Women.” Immediately, she felt herself bristle.
“What did that bitch do?” He rolled his eyes.
“Don’t call her that.”
“What did she do, Steven?” He sighed, using his free hand to ruffle his hair.
“Okay, so… When she asked me out, she was weirdly specific, right?” She nodded, not caring too much about the long story. But if that’s how he wanted to tell it - fine. “She was all like ‘Do you want to go to the cinema with me on Tuesday at seven fourty five?’ and I thought it was kinda weird to ask like that, but hey maybe she’s just one of those…those OCD-types, right? What do I know? Maybe she just feels the need to specify everything or her dad was a vet or whatever. Don’t know, don’t care.” She didn’t point out that seven fourty five wasn’t military time. “So, I agree, knowing I’d likely have to pester Robin into switching with me, which wasn’t easy because it was a Keith shift and who wants to do those? But who cares, it was flower shop girl, right?”
“Right.”
“Yeah. So today, after I left, I got home, got ready and picked her up exactly on time. When she got in I noticed that she was, like, really nervous for some reason.”
“What, because of you?”
“That’s what I wondered. I mean, I bought a gazillion flowers from her and she rents videos regularly, so it’s not like we’re total strangers. And I’m not weird, right? Like, creepy weird. Rapey weird.” She nodded as he threw her a glance and he carried on. “Right, otherwise she probably wouldn’t have asked me. So, I’m, like, extremely confused as to why she’s so skittish.”
“How skittish are we talking?”
“Her voice was an octave or so higher the whole time.”
“Jesus.”
“Exactly.” Steve shook his head. “Anyway, I drive up to the theatre and try to get a conversation going, you know? Drop some funny lines, talk about work, anything. But she barely answers and is all evasive and weird and I’m already like ‘Oh great, this date is going to be fun.’.” Angrily, he kicked something out of the way. A pebble? “But that isn’t even the worst thing. I mean, sure, I really…I was really amped for that date. But bad dates happen, you know? You get annoyed and then you move on or something. I don’t know.”
“I know what you mean, Steve. Carry on.”
“Dude, I’m on it.” He sighed shaking his head. “Anyway. Theatre. We get out of the car and I go to buy the tickets-“
“Why the fuck did you-“
“I don’t know, I just did.”
“She asked you out, Steve! She can pay!”
“But she didn’t okay? Let me finish talking.” She grumbled something under her breath, but let him go on. “So, I go to buy the tickets, she’s waiting by the door. And then we go in and whoosh.” He mimed an explosion with his hands. “She sticks to me like glue. It’s like someone flipped a switch and she went from ‘why am I here?’ to full on date mode. And she’s, like, pulling all the stops. She’s flirting like a mad woman, batting her eyelids super often and talking about how nice I look and how nice it was that I agreed to this date and stuff. And she’s super loud too, right?” Slowly, something dawned in her mind and she didn’t like it one bit. “So, I am like ‘Uhm…what exactly is going on here?’ but she just keeps talking. And then we get to the front of the popcorn line and some dude greets us and he keeps staring at her all wistfully and shit while she finds 87 ways to say the word ‘date’ in a non-committal context.” He stopped, kicking at nothing at she watched him with furrowed brows.
“She wanted to make that guy jealous. And she used you to do it.” He scoffed, his eyes focusing on nothing in particular.
“Yeah. And I was stupid enough to say yes.”
“Steve.”
“She probably noticed that I was literally buying her out of flowers and came to the conclusion that sure, Harrington is hare brained and will never realise what is going on. Why not use him like some sort of accessory, it’s not like he’s got much more going on!”
“Steve, stop that.” She pulled him to a stop, turning him towards her in the process. Steve’s brows were deeply furrowed, nearly touching in the middle, and there was a definite pout to his lips. “Stop trash talking yourself. None of this is because of you.” He tsked.
“Right. Sure, who if not me, then?” She stared at him, incredulously.
“Her. It is because of her, Steve. She asked you out to make another guy jealous because she noticed that you liked her. She used your feelings against you, not the other way around.”
“And why did I have feelings? That her fault too or what?”
“What are you even talking about, Steve?”
“I mean, how often have I actually talked to her? I barely knew her, right? We’re loose acquaintances at best. So why? Why like her so much that I buy a bunch of ugly fucking bouquets every other day? Those fucking things looked like shit because she’s horrible at making them, but I still spend a fortune on them simply so I could watch her talk about flowers for ten minutes. Shit, I’m not even a flower guy to begin with! Do I look like someone who cares that gardenias are considered deer resistant shrubs?” He really seemed to believe that he had any choice in the matter, which had her brows dip further.
“Steve, you can’t actually believe the bullshit you’re spewing right now.” He shrugged, pushing the moist hair from his face.
“Well, I don’t know anymore. I must be doing’ something wrong, seeing as every god damn girl I come close to liking just ends up treating me like shit.” Pinching his nose, he took a step back. “I mean, I’m not exactly a catch. Right. I know that.” He gestured around, more angry than necessary. “I know what they see, okay? Har har Harrington, high school hasbeen that couldn’t get into college and is still working a shitty job at fucking family video. Right, sure, I get it. Oh yeah, add the ugly ass scars I can’t explain – not that anyone even gets close to seeing them lately. But why can’t they just tell me? I mean, they could just tell me to fuck off and I’d be gone.” Swallowing heavily, he quieted for a moment. “I’m so…I’m so sick of growing to like people who don’t like me back. Who don’t even want to get to know me, like actually me. Not ‘Steve Harrington, the family video looser’, but me.”
Her throat felt tight as she watched him rant, rain slipping down his hair and face. Hearing what he thought about himself was always difficult, because, for some reason, Steve literally thought he was the worst person alive. No matter what she said, no matter what she did, his opinion never seemed to change.
Steve Harrington viewed himself as little more than trash.
“How is that your fault, Steve? Any of that?” Hot anger rose in her chest, not at him but for him. “You couldn’t get into college – so what! Who gives a shit? And sure, you work at family video. But at least you work!” She shrugged. “That’s miles better than anything any of them likely ever did. And liking someone is…We can’t choose who we like. You just…you just like who you like.”
“That’s a bullshit answer and you know it.”
“Yeah? Well. It’s yours.”
“What?”
“It’s what you told me. While I was crying over Ian and cursing myself over ever falling for him you said exactly that.” He scoffed, his head falling back.
“I give shit advise.”
“Yeah, but you mean well.” Sighing, she grabbed his hand. “Steve, listen to me. Properly, okay?”
“Fine.”
“That stupid cunt used you. And that is not your fault.”
“But-”
“No, it’s not. You didn’t do anything, Steve! I mean, what would you tell me? If the situation was reversed? Let’s say I…I don’t know, let’s say I’m on a date with, uh, with…Jonathan.”
“Byers?”
“Yeah.”
“Yikes.”
“Stay focused.” She rolled her eyes. “So, I’m on a date with Byers and turns out he just wanted Nancy to get angry or jealous or whatever. And obviously I’m heartbroken because wow, I’m so in love with Byers-“ Steve winced.
“I’m not in love.”
“- that I can barely contain myself. What would you tell me?” Steve looked down at her, his dark eyes raking her face as he thought.
“…Probably the same thing.”
“Which is what?”
“…It’s not your fault. He used you, not the other way around.”
“Right. And?”
“I’d probably try to hit him with my car. That’s long overdue anyway.”
“Yeah, I get it. Flower shop girl just got first place on my shit list. But that’s not what I mean.”
“Then what?”
“Is it my fault that I fell in love with Jonathan Byers?” Steve turned his face towards her, looking just as wet and sorry as he did, and sighed.
“…No.”
“But I could have known better. He’s obsessed with Nancy, so this was totally unavoidable, wasn’t it?” Steve’s brows dipped.
“Yeah, so? It’s not like you wanted to fall in love with Byers, you just did. Maybe that’s dumb, but you can’t choose who-“ he stopped short.
“Yeah?”
“…You can’t choose who you like.”
“Right. You can’t.” She sighed. “You don’t always need to hold yourself up to higher standards than everyone else, you know? You’re…you’re just human, like the rest of us.”
“I know.”
“Do you now? Because sometimes I’m not so sure you do, Steve.” She vividly remembered many times where his perfectionism hat nearly driven him insane. “You always blame yourself for things that aren’t you fault. Always did, ever since we were kids.” It wasn’t hard to guess where he’d got it from. His parents weren’t ever shy about blaming their child for everything wrong with their life. His mum did it passively, with neglect and pejorative remarks while his dad just straight up told him why he was the shittest thing in their collective lives. Steve, apparently, had internalised that knowledge far too deep. And now it always came back to haunt him.
Like that one time.
It was a day she barely remembered. The memory was fuzzy, either with age or because her mind simply didn’t want her to remember. What was it, a day after Starcourt? Two days? She didn’t even really know. It could have been years or minutes; everything felt the same.
Hopeless.
Hopelessness was winding around her like thin wires, squeezing and pulling at the same time. Wherever the wires touched her, they would dig into her skin, painfully tearing the tender flesh of her body apart. Maybe she should just have done it, set her jaw and bear with it, just like she’d been doing every time she’d gotten hurt that day. Pain was nothing new to her, in the past three years she’d learned how to deal with it but, for some reason she just…she just couldn’t.
When she looked down at her arms, she expected to see blood. And sure, there was blood. But that was old, already drying. She didn’t see any new blood. Nothing was actually ripping her skin apart, and yet she could feel it. She could feel the lines on her skin, the places she was barely keeping together.
Every movement, every breath was painful. So, so painful that she wanted to scream. To her, moving meant pain. And a lot of pain meant that she was dying.
So, she just didn’t move.
She sat there, on the floor in Steve’s bedroom, unmoving, with her legs pulled against her chest. Why Steve’s room or how she’d even gotten there in the first place was something she couldn’t answer. She just knew that she couldn’t move away from that spot, not without falling apart completely. And in that moment, there was no one who could’ve stacked her back together again.
It was uncomfortable.
Her limbs were falling asleep in random moments and the heeled boots she’d been wearing were likely ruining her feet for good. She herself was still bloody, sweaty and disgusting and she could feel the layers of grime on her skin. But she didn’t…couldn’t care.
It was uncomfortable, but it was safe.
As long as she didn’t move, she could pretend it wasn’t real. She could pretend that her dad and brother were at the shop, like always, bickering over the right way to tune up the Hillson’s sedan. She could pretend that she hadn’t seen the giant monster that her family had somehow become part of. Because every time she thought of it, she remembered what Nancy told them. She could hear Steve saying: “But instead of, like, screws and metal, the Mind Flayer made its weapon with melted people…?”
Melted people.
Her father, the kindest man she’d ever known. The man who’d tried his hardest to raise her, to give her anything a daughter could need. The man who’d taught her how to ride a bike and how to replace a rotary arm. The man who’d cooked her favourite food whenever she felt down.
And her brother.
The big brother, who’d gone and beaten-up Tommy Hagan after he cheated on her. The brother who’d read her stories as a kid, who’d carry her around whenever she was too lazy to walk. The very brother who’d told her, just the night before, that all he wanted was for her to be happy. Wherever that might be.
Those two were part of the people Steve and Nancy were talking about. And she’d known, she’d known something was weird with her dad ever since he’d been so moody and snappy. He was never like that, never that aggressive, and both her and her brother had been extremely confused and worried. And yet, with little to no argument, she’d just packed her bag and left the minute her brother told her to.
She’d gone to stay with Steve, lounging around at Scoops Ahoy all day instead of just…just going home. Home, where she actually could’ve done something. Where she could’ve helped them.
But she didn’t. And now they were dead.
Those were the thoughts going through her mind on a loop. Every time she arrived at the conclusion it would go back to the start, like a record that spun endlessly. Nothing seemed to be able to turn it off. It just spun and spun and spun. Not even the blood that covered her shirt and skirt turning sticky and disgusting could change that. Nor could the knowledge that at least half the blood was not hers but Steve’s.
Steve…
Steve, who’d spent the past hours talking to her with endless patience. He’d tried to get her to eat, to move. To just do…something. Anything. He never pushed her too hard, but he didn’t ease up. He sat beside her, talked about anything. He turned on music whenever his voice turned weak and the silence became heavy.
He was always there, like a shadow glued to her side. Drifting along the lines of her periphery in hopes to get a rise out of her.
Looking back, she was surprised he’d kept it together that well. She didn’t know if she could’ve done it. If she could’ve acted like she was okay for his sake.
Because Steve wasn’t okay. Of course, he wasn’t. And one day, she finally noticed it.
As always, he’d left his room. Claiming to go and order some dinner. He left, went downstairs and was gone for a good long while. Too long for a phone call. Maybe she was on her way out of her trance, maybe she was already on the threshold to being fully conscious. Or maybe it was the fact that Steve had forgotten to turn on the music. She didn’t know.
But as she sat, still huddled against the dresser in Steve’s room, she heard something…weird. An odd noise she couldn’t quite place. Like…like a sob. Or something. The Harringtons weren’t home, of course, so it couldn’t have been them. But that only left Steve. Steve who was gleefully making conversation up until a moment ago, seemingly completely unaware of how one sided it actually was.
That uncertainty was what finally caused her to get up and move.
Stiff as a board and with great difficulty she peeled herself off the floor, using the wall to prop herself up. Every step she took hurt like hell, her poor, battered feet burning like embers. But she hobbled on, slow but determined. Thank god everything was carpeted, because otherwise Steve might have heard her come down the steps. And knowing him, he would’ve gone right back to acting.
But he didn’t.
And as she entered the Harringtons kitchen, she didn’t find the Steve she’d seen upstairs. Instead, she found a barely eighteen-year-old boy, who’d been tortured and drugged. A boy, who’d spent too long high on adrenaline and was now watching his best friend wither away right there, in his room. A boy who didn’t know what to do, how to help.
He was sitting below the phone, the receiver dangling carelessly somewhere next to him, and he was sobbing. Desperate, scared little noises that had her stop for a moment.
“Steve?” She’d said, her voice raw and broken by prolonged disuse. But the boy had heard her, flinching as his head snapped towards her. The moment his dark eyes landed on her, standing in the door way, he’d started to cry even harder. Violent sobs started to shake him, a sight that had her feel dizzy.
“It’s you.” Was all he managed to say between all the sobbing, his face buried in his hands. The sobs got louder too, his relieve mixing into the whole mess of emotions he was already facing. Watching that, watching as he broke down with fear, pain and relieve spurred something in her. With just two little steps she made it to his side, where she sank down to her knees. She didn’t know what to do. This Steve was not one she knew, and right then she barely knew herself. Her hands fluttered about unsurely, touching his hair and his shoulders, trying to find a place to start.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He’d muttered, repeating nothing but that again and again while sobs rattled through his body.
“Sorry…?” She didn’t understand. Sorry for what? What had he done that he needed to be sorry for? Nothing came to mind.
“I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault.” Her eyes were shaking as she watched the boy sob on. Her brain was so incredibly slow already, exhausted from little sleep and heightened adrenaline, so she still didn’t understand. She didn’t understand. “Everything is always my fault.”
Everything.
She felt her eyes tear up, sobs clawing their way up her throat as she realised what he was on about.
Steve was blaming himself for this. He was blaming himself for what had happened down in the Russian base as well as what had happened up in the mall. He was blaming himself for her pain as well as his own. The way she knew him, he’d probably been blaming himself for ever becoming her friend, for ever being born.
Because that was Steve Harrington.
Everything was always his fault, even when it wasn’t. He automatically deemed it so and no one, not a single person, ever thought to tell him he was wrong. They all called him ‘ass’ and ‘moron’, called him out for his time as stupid ‘King Steve’, but no one ever took the time to remind him how great he really was.
If her heart hadn’t already been broken, it would have been the moment she truly realised how lonely that boy was. And how scared he must’ve been of losing her, the last person to always be on his side.
“Steve…” She’d sobbed, winding her arms around him to cry into his hair while she held him. She’d just been holding onto him until both their tears ran dry for the time being.
And she did the same thing now.
With one simple movement, she’d wrapped her arms around his midriff and pressed her face into his shoulder. Steve didn’t hesitate to hug her back. He never did. His arms wound around her waist, holding her close. Somewhere above her ear, she could feel his breath fan against her skin.
“You need to stop blaming yourself so much, Steve.” Her voice was muffled by the fabric of his jacket, but she was sure he understood. She knew by the way his breath hitched, by the way is body started to shake. “It isn’t your fault, none of this.” She patted the back of his head comfortingly, carefully. “And I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry for? You didn’t do anything.” His voice was weak and croaky, poorly repressed feelings seeping out of it with every word.
“No, I didn’t. But I’m still sorry.” She sighed, patting on. “I’m sorry because she isn’t. And I’m sorry because she couldn’t see you the way you did her. I’m sorry that everyone always blames you, even you yourself…” His arms tightened around her waist and she heard him exhale a shaky breath. “I’m sorry for all of that, Steve.”
And just like that night four years ago, she’d held the boy while he shed tears no one else knew about.
Because that was who Steve Harrington actually was.
***
“There! There, do you see that?” Robin hissed, pressed close to her side. “Now that isn’t normal. And at first I was all like ‘oh maybe he’s just confused’ but it’s been week and he’s just been doing that all the time. That’s weird, right? Agh, of course it’s weird!” She blinked, ignoring Robin’s rambling as she watched Steve ring up a customer upfront. The rest of the store lay deserted, the day still too early for most people to think about renting anything.
It was Sunday, a couple of long, exhausting days after Steve’s date with the horticulture-cunt.
The week had been quite the mess so far, so she was thanking every available god that it was finally Sunday and she had the day off. And sure, lounging about Family Video with Steve and Robin was an excellent pastime. ‘Spying’ on Steve from behind a shelf, though? Ugh.
“Look, he’s not flirting, nothing! He’s just-just look!” The girl hissed, her hands clasping her shoulders. She could feel Robins nails scratch her skin, causing her to shiver slightly.
Robin had been calling the repair shop nearly every day, more than once, ranting about how Steve was behaving ‘weirdly’ and how this couldn’t be ‘normal’ and ‘please please come over, okay? I’m losing my mind here!’, so here she was. Badly hidden behind the self-proclaimed chick flick shelf – ooh, was that ‘Beaches’? – staring through a small window Robin had created by removing a couple of tapes.
It was not all too interesting.
Steve just did his job like anyone else would. The whole spiel - ‘Hi there’ ‘beep beep’ ‘your total is…’. That was how this worked, right? Because, sure, she’d never worked anywhere other than the shop, but this looked pretty standard to her. Next to her, Robin was still rambling – something about possession and brainwashing – and Steve was bagging up the tapes. The girl he’d just rung up thanked him overly sweetly – gag – and turned to leave the store. The wind chime above the door announced her exit.
Steve stayed where he was, leaning forward onto the counter, before looking in their direction.
“You idiots do know that I can see you, right? You’re not, like, invisible.” Robin stiffened and cursed under her breath and she patted her back comfortingly.
“You tried, Robs.” Was all she said as she grabbed ‘Beaches’ from the shelf. Why not use this oh-so-golden opportunity to organise some Sunday night entertainment? And she’d been waiting to see this one for forever. She even told Steve, the traitor, to let her know as soon as it was available. Of course, he ‘forgot’ to do that again.
“Yeah, maybe leave some tapes next time so it’s less obvious.” Steve nodded towards the shelf and sure enough. Tapes were missing on both sides, making it pretty obvious that someone wanted to spy on him through the three- or four-inch gap the shelf offered.
“You leave me no choice! And you!” Robin pointed at her, her black-nailed finger wafting accusingly in front of her face. “I called you so you’d side with me!” She chuckled, strolling over to where Steve was still lounging about. Steve’s eyes were on her as she hopped onto the counter next to him, offering up the tape, which he took in turn for a clean picked bag of gummy bears.
“Oh, come on, ‘Beaches’? Really? Ugh.” He shook his head as he started to check it out – under his name, obviously.
“It’s Bette Midler, Steve.” The boy just winced and she started to chow down on the gummy bears. Robin was still rambling.
“Hello?! Are you listening to me!?”
“No.” The two of them said and the girl grumbled, yet still accepting the peace offering of gummy bears. The younger girl glanced at her hand, spotting the exclusively white, orange and yellow variants of the sugary sweets.
“Why do I never get any red or green ones? Those are the best.” Steve nodded while she just winced at the other girl’s statement.
“Steve is in charge of the red and green ones, so pester him about that.”
“Wait, what? ‘In charge’?”
“Yeah. Haven’t you noticed?” She cocked her head, shaking the bag. “He eats all the red and green ones. I get the yellow, orange and white ones.”
“Why would you do that?”
“She doesn’t like red and green. I don’t like white.” Steve handed her the cassette in a small bag before turning and leaning his back against the counter. “So, we eat the ones we like and then trade.”
“But there’s always more red and green, so you’re basically being ripped off!” Robin leaned against the counter next to her as she spoke, holding her hand out for more. She got them, of course.
“Hey, she gets three colours and I only get two!” She could feel Steve’s fingers at the hem of her shirt as he spoke, the boy using the proximity to cover up a sliver of skin that had been exposed since earlier. Paying him no mind, she let him pull down her shirt properly and continued to stuff her face with gummy candy. Robin, however, was watching their interaction with raised eyebrows.
“Your relationship is disgusting, has anyone ever told you that?” Both she and Steve rolled their eyes at that. Because they had, in fact, heard that before. That and anything else people would offer about their relationship. For some reason, people just loved to make unsolicited comments about other people’s business. She couldn’t even count the times, that people had asked her if she and Steve had ever had a ‘thing’ for or done ‘stuff’ with each other – big yikes.
Then there was the usual ‘oh your guys are disgusting’, ‘get a room!’ or ‘you’re like an old married couple’. When they were younger, they used to argue back every time because it wasn’t like that and they were just friends. At some point, though, both of them had gotten tired of the same reaction – eye rolls, amused chuckling and a meaningful ‘For now!’ – so they just rolled their eyes and ignored all the comments to the best of their abilities.
Well, except the ‘stuff’ one because that was a disgusting and invasive thing to ask. Steve took that one just as wordlessly, but she couldn’t. The last guy who’d dared to offer that question had earned himself a broken nose and she would happily pummel anyone who wished to follow in his footsteps.
“Only every person in this goddamn town, Robin.”
“I think I heard a Demodog say it at one point.” Steve said, closing his eyes.
“Yeah? Seems like them. They were a rather chatty bunch, weren’t they?”
“Totally. Especially- uh…wait, what was his name?” His brows furrowed in thought. “Henderson named him after that chocolate bar.”
“Ah, you mean Dart?”
“Dart! Yes, right. Especially Dart.” The two of them grinned at that. It should be all unfortunate and uncomfortable, but honestly? One can only shed so many tears about something. At some point, joking will become easier than sobbing.
“Do I even want to know what you’re talking about?” Robin asked, snagging more gummy bears.
“Just the Demodog Dart and his little herd of friends that nearly mauled us to death.”
“Come on, Dart didn’t. He let us pass, remember?”
“Not really. I was losing a ton of blood, Steve. I don’t even really remember how we got out.”
“Oh, right. You got blood all over my jacket. ”
“Sorry not sorry.” They had bled onto each other often enough, even before the whole upside down bullshit. Although there’s a significant difference between ‘shit, I cut my finger while chopping onions’ and ‘oh my god, that Demodog just rammed it’s claws into my torso’. The scars were really different, too.
“You could’ve just said no, you know?” The girl flicked her forehead before going to do…something. Work. Slack off somewhere else. That left her and Steve behind at the counter. For a moment, they did nothing else. She was fiddling around with the bag in her hands and Steve was slowly flicking through a pamphlet or something. Leaning over, she noticed that it was a pamphlet about…
“Wait, is that for college?” Steve nodded, flicking to the next page. “I thought you gave up on college?” She grabbed the pamphlet from him, ignoring his protests as she read through as quickly as she could. That was made a lot harder by Steve trying to get the thing back. Her eyes were better than his though, so she held it barely out of his reach and read on “No way, nursing? You want to become a nurse?” He scoffed and ripped the thing from her hands.
“Jesus, ever heard of privacy? You’re so nosy, do you know that?” He snapped, stuffing the pamphlet somewhere beneath the counter, effectively out of reach. Not that she cared, she knew all she needed to.
“We don’t do privacy, Steven.” Drawing her leg onto the counter, she turned towards him properly, grinning brightly. “Nurse Steve?” The boy groaned, his shoulders slumping forwards.
“I don’t know, okay? It’s just, like, an idea. Nothing more. I just thought, you know…I’m quite good with blood and all that and I’ve seen worse things than whatever the human body can produce. So why not try to make use of that?” He shrugged. “I researched a bit and heard about this nursing program and I’m…I probably won’t get in anyway, so it’s really not that big a deal, right? It’s just- it’s…Robin will eventually get her degree and then she’ll leave and teach little shit’s their ABC’s or whatever the fuck she does and I can’t…It’s…Anything is better than being stuck here for the rest of my life, rewinding sticky copies of ‘Kinky Business’ and ‘Too good to be true’ while Keith is breathing down my neck.” He finished, his formerly gesticulating arms falling down to his sides as he breathed heavily. She allowed a moment of silence to pass, giving him a second to catch his breath as she just stared at him. But eventually, she felt the corners of her mouth curl upwards.
“You know, you’re saying all that but for some reason I just hear-“ Steve raised his finger threateningly.
“I swear to god, your ass is grass if you say…”
“-Nurse Steve!” The boy groaned and let his head fall against her shoulder as she giggled and patted the back of his head.
“I hate you; you know that?”
“Sure, I do. I love you too, Harrington.” She wiggled her shoulder to get him off. When she did, she leaned forwards to stare into his face. “Nurse Steve, man. Honestly, I see it. You’ve got a nurse face.”
“What, in that hot nurse kinda way?”
“Yikes. No.” She pretend-shivered. “But you look kind and caring.” Steve rolled his eyes.
“As I said: It’s just an idea and I likely won’t get in anyway, so…”
“No, no you will.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do, Steven! I can feel it in my bones. So let me predict your future now, young padawan.” With her thumb and index she squeezed his cheeks, effectively holding him in place – and making him look like stuff-cheeked hamster. “You will apply for this course and you will get in. And within the next couple years, you’re out of this shit hole and can spend your days saving lives as ‘Nurse Steve – Hero in scrubs’.” He opened his mouth to stop her, but she talked onwards. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll meet a pretty patient and you’ll wrap her around those pretty fingers of yours in a heartbeat while helping her stay calm during a shot or whatever.” Steve’s brows drew together, enough to nearly touch in the middle.
“Did you just write fanfiction about me?” Thanks to her still squeezing his face, the words came out all squishy and muddled. He seemed to notice that too, pulling himself from her grasp to rub his cheeks. “Dude, were you trying to bruise my cheek? Jeez, your grip is like iron.”
“Those are a handyman’s fingers, Steven.” Sad but true. She always wanted to have pretty, dainty hands like Nancy or Robin or Max. Colourful long-ish nails, pretty nailbeds, soft pink skin…but that was not something she’d ever have. Thanks to her line of work, her hands and fingers were often dry and rough, even stained by oil and grease. Her nails had to be short, otherwise they’d break – they tended to do that anyway – and although she tried nail polish sometimes, it never lasted long enough to actually bother.
And sure, she took care of them. She used hand cream like a mad woman, lathering up every chance she got, and she tried to do hand masks regularly. In the end, however, her hands were a mirror of her craft. They were formed by work. And while they could get a car up and running, change a leaking pipe and a handful of other things, they would never look pretty.
It shouldn’t bother her much, but it did, sadly. Generally, she liked how she looked. She was satisfied with what the mirror showed her and she knew she looked good. Great even! But every time she saw how pretty other girls’ hands looked, she felt like a…like a grizzly. Like a giant, weathered witch in front of dainty, little fairy princesses – however untrue that comparison may be.
Everyone had their little insecurities.
Suddenly, Steve grabbed her hands, pulling her fingers away from a patch of dry skin and her out of her own thoughts.
“Stop picking your skin, idiot. You always say it hurts after you do that.” Shifting his hold a bit, both hands now clasped in one of his, he started to root around behind the counter, producing a small tube of hand cream. Without hesitation, he squeezed a good dollop of cream onto her hands and used his thumbs to spread it around. It was almost like a massage and she felt herself relax more and more with each stroke.
In lieu of anything else to do, she looked at him while he worked away all tension she’d build over the last week.
Mouth slightly pursed and brows furrowed, he looked extremely focused right then. If she hadn’t quite literally felt his hands on hers, she would’ve wondered what he was thinking about. His hair did its usual thing, flopping into his face that was, and it gave him some sort of…roguish allure.
Here’s to hoping that he’d never find out that she thought something like that. Yikes.
But it was true nonetheless. She cocked her head as she watched him, raking her eyes over the lines of his face. They all looked the same as always, absolutely not different to the Steve she’d seen yesterday and the day before that. And yet…
Steve was handsome.
Sure, right, objectively she’d known that. She’d seen the boy as a tween and damn, that couldn’t be compared, like, at all. But she’d never really thought about it much. Steve was always about as interesting as her right arm. There and definitely appreciated – in fact, she wouldn’t want to live without it – but not something one thought about much. But right then, brows furrowed in concentration as he rubbed her hands, she really noticed how good looking he actually was.
“You’re really pretty, did you know that?” Steve raised his brows and looked up at her, clearly surprised by her statement. But he caught himself rather quickly, the typical Steve reaction already kicking in.
“Twenty-two years and you only notice that now? Damn.” She rolled her eyes, pulling her hands from his grasp.
“You must’ve been ugly for twenty-one of them, then.”
“That’s still a year, which is a lot coming from you.”
“Right, whatever gets you through the night, pretty boy.” He grinned at that.
“You know what? You can just tell me that my awesome hand rub won you over, sweetheart. There’s no shame in that.”
“Oh, riiiight.” She nodded, a smile curling her lips as she leaned back onto the counter. “Totally. You just stole my heart, Harrington.”
“Don’t I know it.” He leaned against the counter next to her. She hummed under her breath, using two fingers to gently guide his hair out of his face. His eyes fluttered shut at her touch, a habit Steve had always had. In one feather light touch, she let her knuckles ghost over the lines of his cheek, causing his honeyed eyes to open up once more.
“I bet you do that to all the girls, don’t you?” He tipped his head back, eyes focused on her face, and hummed softly.
“Hmmh. Works every time.”
“Am I…interrupting something?” A voice intervened, causing both her and Steve to turn. Robin was standing next to the shelf she and the other girl had just been hiding behind. “Because I can, like, totally take my break right now. You know, if you guys want to finish whatever that was.” She popped a cheese puff into her mouth, the bag in her hands crinkling uncomfortably loud.
“Robin…” Steve sounded all annoyed, clearly ready to ‘bicker with Buckley’, so she intervened.
“Not necessary. Join us, Steve was just telling me all about how he uses roofied hand cream to drug poor, unsuspecting girls into liking him.”
“Aaah. That must be why you were gazing up at him like he was made of light, hm? Because of the hand cream. Totally, I believe you.” Robin shrugged as she hopped closer and she felt her brows dip.
“What am I, a moth?”
“I don’t know, you tell me?” She hopped behind Steve, using her hands to turn his face towards her, to which he protested loudly.
“Come on, your fingers are all cheesy!”
“Take it like a man, dingus.” Robin just said, holding on and nodding at her. “And? Do you think sparkly boy is the hottest thing in town?” She rolled her eyes and Steve ducked out of Robins hold.
“Man, you got cheese dust all over me. Disgusting, go clean your hands.” He shoved her off towards the break room while rubbing his cheeks against his uniform. “And the question is rigged, because I totally am the hottest thing in town and we all know it.”
“Right, Dingus, whatever you want to believe. You know, that scene felt oddly familiar. Did I see it in a movie before? God, what was it called again? Maybe-“
“Buckley! Sink! Now!” At his famed babysitter tone, Robin instinctively hopped on off without another word. The two who stayed behind, sighed in unison. “I hate her sometimes.”
“No, you don’t.”
“No, I don’t.”
Another shared sigh and Steve was back to fiddling with the tube of hand cream and she watched him for a minute, before choosing to plunge forwards with their conversation. A normal one, duh, not the one Robin had interrupted.
“Wanna watch ‘Beaches’ with me?”
“No.” He said, tossing the hand cream aside and leaning against the counter, further away from her this time. “I’ll come ‘round after work. Chinese or Pizza?” She smiled.
“Pizza for sure.”
***
Early evening had befallen Hawkins by the time Steve made it to her house. The sky outside was quickly darkening, regretfully announcing the end of her day off. She wished she had something to turn back time. Not even a lot, just a day or so. Tiny day. Go plink plink on that little, uh, time turner, and have another Sunday right after her first one. And that one she would spend right here, on the couch, in a pad so huge it could count as diapers and simply not move. Didn’t that sound glorious? Damn. Next time, Buckley could beg all she wanted. She would spend her Sunday hermited and wrapped up like a burrito.
When his knock finally came, she was already lounging on her sofa, braless and clad in only her finest pair of sweats and a giant t-shirt that came from god knows where. The void, probably. Maybe even the upside down. Didn’t know, didn’t care.
It was comfy anyway.
“Come it, the door is open!” She called, too lazy to move to open the door for him. Honestly, she didn’t really need to and he didn’t need to knock, he had a key anyway. The door opened and she raised her head, just enough to make sure it was actually Steve that entered and not a crazy serial killer. Well, those probably wouldn’t knock but it didn’t hurt to make sure, right?
But nope, it was Steve in all his hang-night glory.
Her head plopped back down after she analysed his choice of clothes – very similar to hers, in fact – and he tsked at the sight.
“I told you not to leave your door unlocked, idiot.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
“Not whatever. Dude, you already live in a paper fucking house. At least try to make it hard for someone to murder you, okay?” Not that again. She rolled her eyes at his usual nagging as he kicked off his shoes and hug up his jacket.
“Steve, it’s not that bad, you know? I mean, it’s a house and it’s actually quite spacious since it’s just Tut and me.” Tut was her, very bad tempered, sphinx cat. Well, bad tempered was a stretch. He wasn’t that bad. Tut, actually named Tutanchmeow, just didn’t like strangers all too much. He liked her, he tolerated Steve and that was far more than enough. Right now, for example, he was hogging her one arm chair, snoring loudly and cutely.
“Spacious. Sure. I’m kinda scared I’ll bonk my head if I flinch too hard, but you’re absolutely right.” As if to demonstrate, he stretched out his arms, not leaving too much space on either side. “It’s extremely spacious in this thing.” Steve sighed, dropping a pizza carton on the couch table. “I got us the usual stuff.”
“Perfect.” She sighed, drawing her legs up slowly and carefully. “What do you want to drink?”
“Stay, I’ll get it.” Steve sauntered over into the kitchen and she heard him open up the fridge. He came back with two beers which was fine by her. He’d already opened them and just dropped them onto the table right next to the Pizza before plunking down onto the sofa into the place she’d previously freed for him. Her legs fell right back into place on his lap, which Steve accepted wordlessly. Sighing, she covered her stomach with both hands and looked at him.
“How was the rest of your shift?” Steve just grumbled. “That bad, huh.”
“Yeah.”
“Robin?”
“Obviously.”
“Do I wanna know?”
“Definitely not.” She hummed slightly, taking her time to properly look at him. He looked tired, his eyes drooping already despite him barely sitting down. She poked his side with her foot and he grumbled again.
“People are tiring.” She sighed.
“Damn straight.” He shot back. “And you know I love Robin, I really do. But god, sometimes I wish she would just…stop talking. Just for a minute. I swear, you left the store and her mouth started flapping. I think she was still talking when I went home and it’s just…does she even breathe?” Steve deflated with a sigh, his head falling back to rest against the wall. “I’m a dick for saying, I know, but I wish Robin came with an off-button.”
“You’re not a dick for saying that.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Then I am too. Because every day I wish that my boys would just keep their damn traps shut. And I love the lot of them, but god, they’re dicks sometimes.” She shrugged. “That doesn’t make me a dick, though. That makes me…Normal. I’m just a normal person who gets annoyed by other people.” Steve just sighed, saying nothing for a moment.
“Speaking of.” He said instead, obviously trying to change the subject. “How’s Eddie first week been going?” She groaned and closed her eyes.
“God, don’t make me think about that.” It had been a whole mess. A complete and utter mess, and terrifyingly large scale. “How can one guy be so clumsy? I mean, at this point I’m surprised he can walk in a straight line without falling over. Please, remind me to never ever get in his car, no matter what. I’m telling you. On Thursday, he literally tripped over his own feet, tumbled through half the shop, bonked against one of the tire stacks and unleashed this, like, chain reaction that nearly send Riley flying into the popped hood of Hagans car. In under a minute, the whole shop was a mess and he just stood there, clenching his hands like a first grader that did something stupid and knows he’ll get in trouble. And you know my boys are really good natured – well, except Billy – but even they had really reached the end of their tether by Saturday. Riley even started to dub him Eddie ‘Stumblebum’ Munson.” She was wringing her hands, trying to calm herself down. “I hired him to replace Marvin, but at this point I’ll have to hire someone else to replace Marvin and someone tokeep Eddie in check. I feel instead of lessen he just tripled my workload, because not only do I have to do my job, no I’m doing his as well as clean up after him.” Steve sighed and patted her leg comfortingly.
And then the two of them sat up properly, she started the movie and he propped open the pizza carton. It was a thing the two of them always did. Steve couldn’t really eat when he was annoyed or upset, while she tended to overeat when she was. So, every time they got together to eat, they vented first and dined right after.
Well, unless someone asked for a delay just like Steve had done after his ‘date’. Then they just went about the meal as proficiently as they could.
“Like, what is that movie even about?” Steve asked, chowing down on the pizza and she snorted.
“Obviously you would try to keep this movie from me without even knowing what it was about. That’s just so you, Steven.”
“What the fuck is up with all that ‘Steven’ lately?” The words came out all wonky, pushed past a giant bite of pizza. “You sound like my mum, jeez.”
“Well, duh. I am your mum.” Straightening up in her seat, she did a mock-hair flip, and eyed Steve. “Oh Stevie, how wonderful to have you back home tonight, baby. But then again, you’re always here, aren’t you? Hohohoho.” She didn’t even have to concentrate to copy his mum, her strangely sing-songy intonation branded into her brain after too many sleepovers at the Harrington House. “I see you came from-“ here she scrunched her nose in distaste “-work. Or, whatever it is you call…that. Oh, Steven isn’t that your friend Raven?” Steve was even mouthing that part with her, his mum seemingly not able to remember that Robin was, in fact, called Robin. But hey, they were both birds at least. “My my, it’s a pleasure to have you back. I hope you’re staying for dinner, darling, because we just love helping the less fortunate members of our quaint town, don’t we? Richard, darling! I’m getting a headache, let’s go to the Maldives!” Steve flicked her forehead the moment she finished, shaking his head.
“I hated that. And it was scarily accurate, so don’t do that again.”
“I’m your mum, I told you.” He rolled his eyes once more, getting started on his third slice of pizza while she was only just done with her first. That, ladies and gentlemen, was how Steve usually ate - for all those that have been wondering. He was a total boy when it came to food, finishing copious amounts of it in little to no time. “Oh, and the movie is about these two friends. I’m not sure either, because - thanks to someone - I haven’t seen it yet but apparently it’s like an overview over their lives and their friendship throughout.”
“Ugh, who wants to see something like that?” He gestured towards the TV. “I mean, come on. There’s these middle-aged ladies thinking about their friendship and people go crazy over it? Because that movie has been in and out so often, I’m surprised you even managed to get your hands on it.” He shook his head. “Who cares about other people’s friendships, really?”
“Sooo, if someone wanted to make a movie about you and me and our friendship – you wouldn’t watch it?” Steve spluttered, nearly choking on his beer.
“What? About you and me?” She giggled, leaning forward to wipe some beer off his cheek with the back of her hands.
“I mean, sure. We have a lot to tell, haven’t we?”
“Yeah, but…Why would I want to watch that? I was there for all of that.”
“Hmmh, that’s true.”
“And honestly, Hollywood would fuck it up and turn it into one of those fucking rom-com bullshit movies.” He scoffed, taking another sip of his beer. “You’d be played by Molly Ringwald – don’t hit me!” He caught her hand before she could. “It’s not even because you look alike or whatever, it’s because she gets all the chicks into the theatre!” She grumbled under her breath. Molly Ringwald, fuck that. “Anyway, I would totally be played by Tom Cruise. Obviously.”
“Why do you get Tom Cruise but I have to be Molly Ringwald!”
“I don’t make the rules, dude. Molly Ringwald is in every chick flick on this god damn planet.” She scoffed and stuffed her face with more Pizza. “I mean, damn, I wouldn’t be surprised to see her play an African desert princess at this point, simply because it’s her. She would obviously go up in flames because ginger plus sun equals yikes, but you know. Let SPF50 handle that, as long as the entire female teenage population of the united states runs into the cinema because Molly Ringwald!” He rolled his eyes and she scoffed.
“Do not throw all of us into the same pot, Harrington.”
“Ah, so you didn’t drag me into ‘Sixteen Candles’ like a mad woman, huh?” She scoffed.
“Yeah, but that was- it was- Michael Schoeffling, Steve!” The boy just snorted in that annoying ‘yeah right’ kind of way. “Tsk. You know what, Steve? You keep your Tom Cruise, because you know who they would cast as Billy and Ian?”
“Why would they be in that movie?”
“Well, Ian is my ex and Billy beat the shit out of you. That seems kinda important.”
“Once again: It’s been six years. Let it rest.”
“Never.” She shrugged, sipping on her beer. “Anyway. Billy would be Rob Lowe, definitely. And Ian would one hundred percent be John Stamos.”
“Rob Lowe and John Stamos? Didn’t you have, like, posters of them in your old room?”
“Yeah, so?”
“You were obsessed with them.” How could she not? Like, General Hospital was a good show but damn. John Stamos made it so much better and he wasn’t even the main event. And Rob Lowe? Man. Those eyes? The thought alone made her want to purr happily. Truth be told, she wasn’t mad that Billy and Ian were both working for her. Not that she was superficial, but a lady was allowed to enjoy someone’s appearance just a little, right? A tiny, selfish glance every now and again should be alright, yes?
“Your point?”
“Are you trying to tell me that Billy and Ian, of all people, are better looking than me?” At that, she could only shrug.
“You said it, not me.” Not that Steve wasn’t handsome – she’d just told him he was earlier today, hadn’t she? But nothing could beat John Stamos or Rob Lowe. Oooh, wait. Maybe that guy from ’21-Jumpstreet’. What was his name again? The guy that played Tom Hanson. That guy was great too.
“Wow. You are a horrible person.”
“Am not.”
“Yes, you are…oh my god.”
“What now?”
“You didn’t date Ian because he looks like John Stamos, did you?” She grinned.
“I did not. But, let’s just say…it definitely didn’t deter me.”
“Tsk. You know, maybe I should…” On screen, Bette Midler was suddenly in quite the hurry. “Woah, what’s she going on about?”
“I think it’s because of that note she just found. See?”
“Well, what does it say?”
“I don’t know, dumbass. Someone kept distracting me by talking all over the movie.”
“Huh…” He leaned back, long done with his Pizza, and eyed the television with furrowed brows. She couldn’t help but smile.
Who would have thought. ‘Beaches’ – the chick flick Steve really didn’t want to see – actually managed to snag his attention – oh wait. She would’ve thought. That was pretty much always the case, by the way. He was all pissing and moaning until the movie actually played. Within the first ten minutes, Steve would always be absolutely invested. He’d be yelling at the screen when the guys fucked up, and get annoyed at every bout of miscommunication.
Because that was who Steve actually was.
A big softie that knew how to enjoy chick flicks.
And very vocally so, too.
“No way. No way are they fucking on the opening night of her musical thing. Like, dude, who does that!? That’s such a bullshit move.” Steve threw a balled-up handkerchief at the TV. “Like, she saw that C.C. liked him. A blind guy could see that. Isn’t there something like a… girl code or whatever? Who needs friends like that! Shit.”
Realistically, couldn’t disagree with that one. It was a shitty move, truly. Who slept with the guy his best friend was into? That was just shitty. Like, technically speaking that would be like her sleeping with Nancy back when Steve was head over heels for the Wheeler princess. God, she would’ve felt horrible. No, no she absolutely agreed with Steve here.
“Yeah, such a dick move, Hillary.” Steve nodded; eyes still trained at the TV.
A better one came later somewhere in the movie. And god, this one would totally make it into her ‘Things to tease Steve with’ treasure chest – because that one? Pure gold.
“Oh my god, why do all the guys in this movie suck?!” He’d suddenly yelled, making her flinch. “Like, one fucks the one friend and then marries the other, only to divorce her couple years later - because boohoo selfish - and the other cheats on his wife! What is the moral of the story here, guys? All men suck? Is that what they’re trying to tell me here?” He finished another beer with a noisy sip before falling back into a more comfortable position. “Shit, I hate men, really, I absolutely fucking hate men.”
That one did it. She burst out laughing, a croaky, choked up laugh that started to hurt her sides really quickly. And Steve, slapping her thigh and glaring at her, really didn’t help much. But oh my god, what the hell – Steve Harrington, recently turned advocate for the ‘anti men’ fraction because someone fake-cheated on Barbara Hershey. Fuck, she needed to tell Robin about that.
The end of the movie, however, quickly beat the laughter out of both of them.
As the credits started to roll, neither of them really said anything. Both of them hanging low in their seats, shoulder to shoulder, trying to stomach the heartbreak the movie threw at them.
“…Well that ending was shit.”
“Yupp.” She nodded, wiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand.
“I mean, why did she have to die? Bullshit.” Steve pushed back his hair, clearly not agreeing with what he just saw. “Who makes a movie about friendship just to kill one of them off?”
“Right? I mean, was that necessary? God, they could just have hinted at it, but why show it?” At the thought, new tears blurred her sight. “And, I mean, the whole thing with the ‘Hi’ at the end, why make it so casual? Fuck.”
“Yeah, man. I mean, who walks into the hospital, sees their dying friend, and just says ‘Hi’!? What the fuck.” Silence settled once again, both of them staring at the names flying by on the screen.
Honestly, maybe they were just the wrong people for that movie.
Maybe someone else could have seen beauty or love in it. And sure, there certainly was love between those two, maybe even in its purest of forms. C.C. had driven her car through the night, leaving everything behind because of a simple note and spent the entire time reminiscing about her best friend. She’d raced to another town, because her friend was dying and she wanted to be there for her. So yes, there was love, there was beauty in everything.
But it didn’t register with her.
Not with her, not with Steve.
The problem with her and Steve was likely the fact that they’d both feared for each other’s lives before - more than once. It wasn’t a feeling she ever wanted to have to face again, and it wasn’t something she liked to talk or even think about. Because to her it was neither love nor beauty – it was just pain. She could imagine how Steve had felt when that Demodog jumped her in ‘84. That fucking beast had tackled her down, burrowing it’s claws into her sides, and tried to bite her head off or whatever those shit’s do. A well-placed hit with Steve’s bat had saved her, but damn. It’d been dangerously close. And then, back in ’86, when Steve was dragged into lovers’ lake...god. She felt his hand slip out of hers, she saw the panic in his eyes as he was dragged out of sight and for a moment her mind when silent, nothing but one thought prevailing.
Steve was dying.
Needless to say, she’d short circuited and dove into the water – which she absolutely hated – to save him. A tiny part of her wished she wouldn’t have, because hearing his screams and seeing those monsters maul him was…yeah, let’s just say it was the main setting of many of her nightmares. He knew, of course, because she’d told him. Just as he told her about his dreams. How he often dreamed about running towards the trailer she, Dustin and Eddie were supposed to be hiding in only to find the scene changed. Instead of her, hurt and screaming for help while dragging a bleeding, half conscious Eddie Munson towards the trailer he came back to silence. He came to find her lying right next to Eddie, bloody and disfigured. Or maybe he came back to screams all the same, but instead of hers it was Dustin or Eddie screaming while dragging her unmoving body.
“Hey.” Steve used his elbow to snap her out of her mind. As always, he just waited for her eyes to focus on him and for her mind to come back to the here and now. He didn’t ask questions, because he knew what the answers would be.
Once she was fully present again, he nodded towards her midriff. “You keep massaging your stomach. You okay?” Confused, she looked down at her hands. And sure enough, there she was, massaging away.
“Ah, no. I mean, yeah, I’m fine. Just one of those hissy tummy days.” Steve looked less than amused.
“Period or stomach bug?” Stifling a sigh, she let herself fall sideways on the sofa.
“Oh, the woes of womanhood.” Steve winced.
“Period, alright.” Sighing he patted her thigh. “Poor girl. How about, like, a heating pad or something? That helps, right?” He didn’t even wait for her to nod, he just got up and wandered on. “Where do you keep those?”
“I’m out, but I’ve got a hot water bottle in the wardrobe.”
“Shouldn’t you, you know, stock up on that sorta stuff?” Steve wandered into her bedroom like he owned the place, rooting through her drawers without an inkling of hesitation.
“I usually do, but I haven’t gotten around to it yet. This whole week’s been a mess and a half.” The boy just hummed his answer, wandering back into the kitchen to heat up some water.
“Do you need pain meds or something?” She watched him bustle around the kitchen from where she lay, frowning. “Hello?”
“What?”
“Do you need pain meds? Tylenol? Wait, do you take Tylenol for that?” She chuckled softly.
“I usually take Midol, but Tylenol works. But I don’t need any right now, it’s not that bad.” He did that cute thing he sometimes did, where he silently repeated things to himself in order to commit them to memory. She could clearly read his lips, read the word ‘Midol’ and just had to grin.
The kettle was done boiling and Steve went back into the kitchen for a few moments. It didn’t take him long to fill the hot water bottle, let some steam out, squeeze it and carry it over to her. Carefully, he dropped it onto her achy stomach, sending her an analytic glance.
“I’m fine, Steve. I do this every month, remember?” He winced again.
“Yeah, all the more reason someone should spoil you a bit.” He wandered over to the TV, rooting through her meagre collection of tapes. Picking one up, he removed ‘Beaches’ from the player with a disgusted face and changed it for something else. Then he got up, dropped himself back onto the sofa and nodded at the remote. “On with it, sweet girl. Molly Ringwald is waiting for us.”
***
‘The Breakfast Club’ kept running, both of them not really paying attention. Sometimes they’d talk but mostly, they just both got lost in their own thoughts. It was nice, though. Sitting quietly with Steve, not talking and not really doing anything was strangely comforting. The TV filled the quiet with useless chatter and provided them with light in her now entirely dark living room. Tut had at some point left the chair behind to curl himself up on Steve’s lap, where he was now purring away while the boy tiredly ran his fingers over the cat’s skin.
But not only that.
No, his other hand kept rubbing circles into her calf and she felt like purring herself. The gentle stroking was so rhythmical and comforting that she could feel herself drift in and out of sleep, barely able to focus on any coherent thought.
Until Steve started talking, that is.
“Hey, are you awake?” He suddenly asked, quietly and yet way too loudly. A non-committal hum was all she could offer. “Can I ask you something?” Steve’s voice sounded thick with exhaustion, indicating he was likely just as tired as she felt.
“…Shoot.” She mumbled back, the warm, sleepy atmosphere weighing on her heavily. Seriously, she’d probably stopped him from saying anything, had she had half a mind to. Sleepy Steve was a dangerous version of him. He was often too honest and too curious for his own good.
“So, uhm…we were talking about Ian earlier and it got me thinking.”
“…Ian?”
“Yeah.” Steve looked at her, his head tipped back against the couch. “You never really told me why you guys broke up. I mean, one day you guys were all in love and the next you’re crying in front of my door talking about how you needed a place to stay until Ian was gone.”
“Hmmh…” She sighed at the memory. She’d cried so much that night. Poor Steve was likely absolutely overwhelmed, but he’d taken it like a champ. He didn’t ask any questions, he didn’t cuss Ian out, he didn’t do anything but pat her back and let her cry. “Ian…” she started, her voice barely more than a whisper “…you know, he’s a good guy.” He really was. Ian looked like a douchebag with that pretty face of his and those broad shoulders, but he was actually one of the kindest souls she knew. He was caring, warm and soft. Loving. “And because of that, I had to tell him to leave.” Steve frowned.
“Okay, you lost me already. I’m tired, please go easy on me.” She grumbled, getting up only to plop down the other way around, her head against his shoulder. He put his arm around her, accepting her tired form into a loose embrace, while using the other to secure the hot water bottle back against her torso.
“I have nightmares. As you know.” He’d been there for many of them. “I mean, they’re not as bad now but...” Steve nodded, saving her the need of more explanation. “The worst, most frequent ones started back in ’85. And…well, Ian could deal with those. He kinda understood why they were happening, with Starcourt and my dad and brother and everything…or he thought he understood, at least.” She hugged the lukewarm water bottle closer against herself. “They got better the more time passed… which he noticed. And that would’ve been fine, I guess, had it not been for all that ’86 crap.” She focused on the TV in front where Molly Ringwald and Judd Nelson were bickering on. Blegh. “When they got worse again, he started to ask questions.” So many damn questions. “I didn’t want to lie to him… but I could obviously not tell him the truth.” If she closed her eyes, she could clearly remember the hurt on his face, the way his blue eyes turned hard whenever she shot him down. Ian…was an extremely kind man. But he was also someone who hated being shut out. She sighed. “A relationship filled with secrets and lies can’t work. I saw how he stopped trusting me every time I told him that it would be fine. That he didn’t need to know.” She bit her lips at the memory. “And every time he would ask more and more questions. He’d ask about my scars, about my dreams, my fear of dogs and tight spaces and why I wouldn’t just talk to him…And every time I could just look at him and say ‘It’s fine, Ian. It’s okay now’.” Tiredly, she wiped some stray tears from her cheeks. It was so dumb to keep crying about that – it had been a year now and both she and Ian had moved on. That didn’t make it any easier, though. “It hurt him; I know it did. And hurting him hurt me, so I just…”
“Let him go.” She nodded, closing her eyes against the new tears threatening to form. Steve sighed, stroking her arm with gentle fingers. “I know, what’s done is done. But couldn’t you just have… told him the truth?”
“Would you? If it was…I don’t know, anyone really.” Steve sighed again, placing his chin on her hair.
“…Probably not, no.”
“See?” She sighed. “He’s better off without all this. Without me.”
“Don’t say that. That’s not true. Nobody is better off without you, you’re great.” She snorted.
“Yeah…thanks, Steve.”
“You know I really mean that.”
“I do…” But believing it was another thing. Honestly, could she even rant about Steve never listening to her when she told him to stop blaming himself? She wasn’t any better. She hid away from everyone and everything, shut out anyone that wasn’t already involved simply because she feared she would make their lives worse by just existing next to them.
“Is that the reason you stopped dating too? The whole ‘questions you can’t answer’ thing?” She sighed against his neck, shrugging slightly.
“I don’t know…Maybe. Or maybe it was just…”
“Hm?” He looked down at her and she shrugged again.
“I really… really loved Ian. A lot.” If it weren’t so cheesy, she’d go as far as call him her first love. “I did try to move on. I went on dates and I tried really hard to get to know people. And sure, sometimes it was about getting laid, but others were genuine attempts at meeting someone I want to be with. But it just…it wasn’t the same.” He nodded, because that he knew. She’d told him every time, ranting about how the people she’d met were weird or rude. How they commented on her ‘workers hands’ or her body, how they tried to kiss her when she clearly said no. And even if she said yes, they somehow found a way to make her uncomfortable by getting all grabby and forward. Those were the worst kind of dates, the kind that made her feel dirty and used. The ones, where all she wanted to do was take a long, hot shower and forget about it.
Of course, not every date was like that.
There were many decent people around Hawkins if one cared to look for them. But even if it wasn’t that…they just never seemed right. Some dates were objectively nice, especially those that her friends had helped her set up. Steve and the others knew her, they knew who she might click with. Those were the dates where people would hold doors, ask questions and be friendly and polite. They wore nice clothes and the conversations flowed easily and continuously. And yet, even after those dates, the best part was the drive home.
“It just never…” she took a deep breath “…never felt right with anyone else.”
“…Yeah, I get it.” Steve said, shifting his arm to hold her a tiny bit closer. “I keep looking for something special, but it’s…it’s just never there. Maybe I should just, you know, wait and see. Give up the active hunt. Relax more…” Steve ran his fingers over her hair absentmindedly. “I don’t even know what exactly I want, what exactly I’m expecting to find. I just always know that this, whatever this may be, isn’t it.” They sighed in unison at that. “We’re a mess.”
“Fuck yeah we are.”
The two of them chuckled tiredly, huddled together on her small couch in the tiny single wide she called home, while ‘Breakfast Club’ slowly but surely reached its conclusion. Tut was happily snoring away on Steve’s lap, the sound mixing with the chatter of the TV, blending into a calming sea of noise. With every chuckle she felt Steve’s body vibrate softly against hers, a warm pressure, soft but firm at the same time. She could feel his breath against her hairline, he felt her against his neck – soft puffs of warm air that left way to soon.
The whole situation should have been uncomfortable or emotional. It would have been with anyone else. It would’ve been too much skinship, a blatant invasion of personal space. Every word would have been a dance along the lines of too honest and not honest enough, trying to toe around the dreaded overshare but keeping the whole talk genuine and open. Lies would have been told, truths would’ve been omitted in favour of not seeming too weak or too pathetic.
This conversation should’ve been so difficult, admitting their feelings and hopes should’ve been… and yet it wasn’t.
Instead, it was warm and soft, honest and quiet. A mere whisper in the dark. An ear that listened to the soft words of another, not questioning what was shared. It was the two of them, sharing everything while leaving each other room to breathe, to just be. Accepting the things that were said without judgement, without forcing the other person to act like something they weren’t.
It was comfort and ease, the routine of a long, close friendship. A friendship that had been through highs and lows, that had seen the worst parts of each person. A friendship, that persevered when one abandoned the other, when the wrong words were yelled at the wrong time, when promises were broken and forgotten. Time had tested it with girlfriends, mistakes and the supernatural.
Through that, it became a friendship that survived all the hurt thrown at it. It survived, because the two of them knew that, in the end, they would always choose each other again.
It was a friendship, that was like breathing.
Easy and thoughtless.
Because that was what the two of them truly were.
#steve harrington#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington one shot#steve harrington imagine#stranger things fic#stranger things#steve harrington fanfic#Steve Harrington x mechanic!reader#slow burn#childhood best friends to lovers#mechanic!reader#afab!reader#curvy!reader#black!reader#asian!reader#fem!reader
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The thing about Aisha was that she was easily impressionable.
The evidence for this? She was standing in her kitchen, all alone, chopping up carrots. It was a Sunday, she was comfortable in an oversized sweatshirt and red panties. They were her granny panties, so they were basically bottoms, right?
Anyway, that’s what she was wearing when she started to pee herself.
She stopped chopping, frozen in place. Her brown eyes focused on the blue and grey backsplash as her bladder emptied. She felt it soak into the front and all the way up her ass as it simultaneously ran in waves down her bare legs. It sort of tickled.
She was standing in a puddle trembling when she finished. She sighed and went back to cutting the carrots. Her undies were warm and wet, she was still shaking and had to be careful when finishing her cutting.
Two years ago, Aisha had this partner.
Lee, Lee was this beautiful, interesting, kind, hilarious person that Aisha may not have fully been over. (She doesn’t get out much, okay? Give her a break). Things ended swiftly and without fireworks, maybe that’s why she was still hung up on them, maybe that’s why she still participated in their kinks without them around.
Because Lee had a very particular kink, one they were embarrassed to share with her, one she has to pry out of them.
She was embarrassed, at the beginning of their relationship, to be asked to be held down. When she finally asked, their sex life improved greatly. She figured whatever it was, it couldn’t be any worse than that.
They told her one night, cuddled up in bed watching a movie. They had moved in together. They were so in love, Aisha was sure they would get married someday, spend their lives together.
“Its a piss kink, love,” is what Lee said, their voice laced with resignation.
She remembered the position they were in. She was laying with her head on Lee’s chest, lees arm was pinned under her, hand slipped under the sleeve of her sweater, rubbing circles on her skin. The first thing Aisha thought was: damn, I kinda gotta go.
Lee stopped their light touches, Aisha realized she had been quiet for too long. She burrowed closer to Lee. She was surprised she didn’t not find herself immediately disgusted. I mean, piss? Really? Her friends have made fun of kinks like that for years, she’s laughed along with them.
But…but this was Lee. She loved them so much, so so much. They were perfect in her eyes.
“What does that mean, exactly?”
And then Lee spent the next few minutes explaining to her what they liked, their preferences and Aisha watched Lee avert their eyes when they admitted they liked the humiliation aspect. Aisha had to admit, that made her own face heat up at the thought.
“You like watching, or…or doing?” That first night, she couldn’t bring herself to say “peeing,” Lee had to notice, but later they said they were so relieved Aisha didn’t run away screaming. (She would never).
“Both.” They were sitting up, across from each other, Aisha’s back to the tv.
Lee was leaning against the headboard, hooded eyes raking up her body. She squirmed, she remembered the first time she Lee, at a gay bar under bright lights, Lee had looked at her hungrily, like they did the first night.
“I like watching someone come undone, they get, well, obviously they get desperate.”
To anyone else, Lee would be the picture of cool, but they were clearly still nervous. Aisha’s hands were in her lap, she took one and place it on lees ankle, rubbing as encouragement.
“And, I like the wetting, obviously. God, I know how it sounds.”
“It sounds fine,” Aisha said, leaning forward, urging Lee to look at her. Finally, they did, eyes big, round, surprised.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah baby, hey, I’m not running, am I?”
Lee shook their head, smiling slightly.
“It feels really good, I promise. Sex with a full bladder is better, and then the release after holding, even if it’s not, like, wetting, it’s wonderful.”
“Have you…fucked me with a full bladder?”
Lee looked away, which was answer enough for Aisha. She felt the need to make her own bladder status known.
She retracted her hand and sat up, shifting in place. She had to pee, normally she’d go by now, but she was curious, and if there’s one thing Aisha wanted, it was to make Lee feel good.
“You know,” Aisha started, knowing on some level, if she finished that sentence, there would be no going back. “I have to pee now.”
Lee looked at skeptically.
“You do?”
Aisha nodded, she wasn’t sure…she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do that first night. Perform, touch herself or squirm or something? She didn’t want to look stupid, so she just sat there.
“We don’t have to do this, baby.”
“I want to,” Aisha insisted. She moved forward, crawling over her partner. She was surprised, suddenly, to feel her bladder drop. But she’s never pissed herself, so she wasn’t worried. “If you want to.”
“I want to,” they said, kissing her.
Lee told her, later, that the first time was the hardest. And it was. Lee fed her drinks until she felt crazy. Her bladder held on, though, determined not to make a fool of her.
She was jumping in place, wild eyes searching the room for some kind of release. All she knew was that she had to focus on Lee, who touched like an expert and was right, it did feel better with a full bladder.
She did pee herself, Lee took her to the shower. They held her, back against their chest. She slumped against him, her entire body weight at their mercy as she let it all go in her pants. It felt heavenly, it felt like a dream.
She hooked from day one, essentially.
They were together for two years after that, and then it ended, and it’s been two years since that last moment. Aisha couldn’t even remember the last time they had sex now, if it included piss or if it didn’t.
She put the carrots aside and stepped out of her panties. She was cooking, she didn’t have time for a shower.
She tossed them in the laundry and mopped the floor, she then continued dinner bottomless, and slightly cold.
She wet herself any chance she got. Years later, and she was still absolutely obsessed with the feeling. It made her feel comfy and horny like you wouldn’t believe. Even now, her pussy was begging her to rub against something. She could come like that, she never used to be able to, not until she discovered this kink. Lee gave her that gift.
She ate her dinner, horny, she showered, horny, she went to bed and dreamed of Lee. The dream was more of a memory than anything.
Lee was bursting, Aisha was bursting. It was a Monday night, they both had work in the morning.
“Fuck you, piss yourself already!” Aisha demanded. They were standing in the kitchen, legs cartoonishly twisted around each other. Aisha was bent over too, both hands pressing hard against her pussy.
It was a game they were playing, maybe two weeks after they started this kink. Lee had on Aisha’s pink plaid pajama pants, and she was going crazy at the thought of lee ruining them.
“Nah, I can go all night. Look at you, you need it much more than I do.”
Lee looked ready to close the distance, but part of the game was that they couldn’t touch each other till it was over. Tears pricked at Aisha’s eyes. They were probably right.
“Think of how good it’ll feel, baby. I see the goosebumps on your arms, it’ll be so warm and tingly, and then I’ll fuck you like you need. Doesn’t that sound good, Hm? I know how wet you get when you need to go, you can’t hide that from me.”
Aisha whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut. She again, felt crazy. Peeing her nice jeans was plausible, undeniable really. And if Lee would fuck her…
Lee swore, she opened her eyes to watch their mouth fall open. Thankfully, they straightened up. Aisha could see their accident spread across the fabric, the kitchen lights glistened against it as both legs grew saturated.
She was peeing too.
“Oh,” Aisha said, surprised. “Fuck.”
Lee closed the distance between them. They were both actively pissing, Aisha was ascending to heaven. Lee pressed bruising kisses to her lips and pressed their hand against their pussy, forcing Aisha to feel the wetness.
“I’m getting it on you,” Aisha said, a million miles away as Lee sucked on her neck.
“Want you to,”
Well fine, two can play at that game.
Lee was almost finished by the time she shoved her hand down those hideous pants, but she felt the last bit of their accident fall onto her skin. She switched gears, determined to make Lee feel good.
Lee grabbed her, turned her around, and pushed her towards the bedroom. Any attempt to pleasure Lee would have to wait. She whined a complaint which was steadily ignored. They left their intertwining pee puddles so Lee could fuck her deep, like she needed.
She woke up horny and desperate to piss. She sighed.
She still had plastic sheets down, right? Whatever.
She fumbled in the bedside drawer for her vibrator, throwing off her blanket. She found herself already wet, god, she fucking missed Lee.
Because how would she bring this kink up with anyone else? How could she ever have what they had again?
She could cry about it later. For now. She flipped the switch. Moaning, she came in under sixty seconds, her morning piss flowing with it.
She cursed Lee, if they had never had the courage to bring it up, she would not be cursed with this kink for all of eternity.
But damn, did she love it.
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thank you @momokujo for the tag 💗
① Are you named after anyone?
not sharing all of it for privacy reasons, but my middle name is pamela after pamela anderson
② When was the last time you cried?
idk i have a lot lately :’)
③ Do you have kids?
i mean i have fankids, but real physical children i do not nor will i ever. fuck that lol
④ Do you use sarcasm a lot?
usually only with my roommates or when it’s really obvious that i’m being sarcastic. i always use ‘/s’ online
⑤ What’s the first thing you notice about people?
typically faces, hair, what they’re wearing
⑥ What’s your eye color?
it’s like a bluish greenish grey..? idk how to describe it but it’s similar to something between a30 and c20 on this chart
⑦ Scary movie or happy ending?
mmmm it really depends i guess. i don’t usually watch horror movies because of all the jumpscares. i guess happy ending because i tend to gravitate to that trope lol
⑧ Any special talents?
sometimes i can draw lol
⑨ Where were you born?
in canada. in a hospital
⑩ What are your hobbies?
drawing, gaming, collecting bath & bodyworks sprays /j
thinking about getting into yoga but my body just hurts,,, so much,,,
⑪ Do you have any pets?
two cats technically because i have roommates, but my only actual pet is a cat named andi. she likes nibbling toes and sleeping on my shoulder
⑫ What sports do play/have you played?
i’m ass at sports, i don’t have the coordination for them 💔
⑬ How tall are you?
around 5’4” / 162cm
⑭ Favorite subject in school?
idk what subject it would be but my high school had a “communications technology” class that was the only class i enjoyed tbh. it was a lot of learning to use photoshop and was basically graphic design stuff
⑮ Dream job?
i’ve never really had one. sometimes i think a graphic designer would be neat but i don’t think i’m cut out for it
tagging :: @honeycubcakes, @jstmichelle, @spookysinner45, @amidalashandmaidens & anyone else that wants to join 💗
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thank you for the tag @reidstyleshotch ❤️❤️
1) are you named after anyone?
sort of? one of my middle names was my dad being a dick and thinking it would be funny to make my middle name my middle name. kota you shut tf up about what it is it’s like bruno we don’t talk about it
2) when was the last time you cried?
uhhhhh… 3 days ago. i have therapy later tho so maybe today 🤷♀️
3) do you have kids?
nope but everyone else’s get dumped on me. although i am helping raise my niece so kinda..?
4) do you use sarcasm a lot?
5) what is the first thing you notice about people?
their outfit unless they’ve got cool hair and tattoos then i’m like 😍omg😍
6) what colour are your eyes?
blueish grey
7) scary movies or happy endings?
i’m a sucker for a good hea
8) any special talents?
not that i can think of
9) where were you born?
SW england
10) what are your hobbies?
reading and annotating
11) do you have any pets?
one very cute doggy who is currently dreaming and kicking me in the ribs @autistic-silhouette your fur baby is a pain in my ribs
12) what sports do you/ have you played?
omg so i’m actually really good at tennis, table tennis and badminton like they’re the only sports i enjoyed at all but i get super competitive 😅
13) how tall are you?
5’7 i think or 5’8 i dunno
14) favourite subject in school?
therapy i had to go to meditation therapy shiz as well and just used to nap for an hour or maths that was alright i guess but fuck surds i have personal grudge against them
15) dream job?
honestly? no clue
no pressure tags: @glittershlutttsxx @fenix-films @anythingforourmoonysstuff @cr-amber @hannahsrambles2 @drowninglnstars @writer-in-theory
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😈
i wanna know your thoughts on the pure kino we were robbed of, that is Marshall x Ivy, my two spicy favs 😭❤️🔥
YES!!! One thing about me is I'm gonna be an Ivy apologist, she was a victim of poor writing and imo the season really hit a slog post Ivy departure because I feel like as a character she had so much potential to grow as MCs Friend/advocate for her most out of pocket urges. Bella is too docile, Chloe is too lukewarm and Grace isn't really on your side even when you're off the Ozzy path and have proven time and time again that you're her friend and want to do right by her. Had there been an opportunity for her to have a friendship with MC if there was a near skirmish with a dumping only for her to be saved at the last minute (perhaps if Amelia was instead dumped in her place), I think she'd really come into her own as a character and be the closest friend MC had in there. So let's say Amelia is the one that gets dumped instead of Ivy, what happens is Ivy is most likely making an attempt to reconcile with Ryan but finds they don't really mesh as well as they could do, they find ways of grating one another and he's low-key a bit too idealistic and far from grounded for her liking. She needs somebody with proper, bona-fide drive. Bella/Lewie Bella/Jamal get dumped as well as MCs fake out dumping, Casa Amor comes along and lo and behold, there's an assemblage of overly earnest men just vying for their spot in that main Villa. One in particular, a certain Marshall, is hung up on letting people know that Ozzy is potentially the worst person of all time and deserves a trial by the UN for the crimes he's committed.
Ivy humours him for a little while - leads conversations with little feelers for him to talk about just why Ozzy is the worst person of all time, but she’s got that ability to just lance through the bullshit and find out what's really going on. Beyond his weird begrudgement, what Ivy notices is just how driven he is. How far he'll go to get what he wants. It's unfortunate, really, that the person coming into casa with some hokey vendetta induced plan is the one person that ticks off every single criteria on her list, and as terrible as she undoubtedly knows it is, she doesn't quite mind the idea of taking him from whichever dolt is bringing him back into the Villa, Ryan's eventual upset be damned.
She's not going to outwardly express her interest in him, and he's a bit too blinded by his hateritis to notice that there's somebody interested in him on Love Island of all places, and it only really comes to a head on movie night when there's a bit too much footage of Ivy slandering the man on show. Marshall's ire is aimed elsewhere, and when he prods her for an explanation, she lets rip and verbally eviscerates him with the precision of somebody dissecting a frog. He's too stunned to respond, has a bit of a sulk, and lo and behold-
The man is just hit with it. Like I'm not being funny but he loves being given commands, and is there anyone more bossy and commanding than Ivy? This is like some Lee/E Edward Grey shit, this is next fucking level. Man's getting railed into the mattress. But he's also getting somebody that just tells him things how they are and gets him to dig deeper into himself beyond his resentment of Ozzy. Expect playful bickering, subtle flirtation and above all else, a couple that actually manages to triumph against the odds.
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I was tagged by my lovely friend @sal-si-puedes - thank youuuu and sorry for being super late with this, life is a bit crazy right now. But what else is new 😅🫶
Were you named after anyone?
Kind of, my mom was watching lots of American movies when she was pregnant with me because at the time that was still super exciting and new (East-Germany just after the fall of the Sowjet Union and the wall between East and West Germany) and was looking for an American name. She found one she liked in the credits.
Do you have kids?
Nope. Also don't want any.
Do you use sarcasm a lot?
Less than when I was an angry 20 something :D
What's the first thing you notice about people?
No idea. Probably how close they are standing to me because I really do like my personal space.
What's your eye color?
A light, almost grey-ish green with specks of brown if you look really close.
Scary movies or happy endings?
Happy endings, I'm a soft Marshmallow.
Any special talents?
I can fall asleep everywhere? Also I can fit my whole fist in my mouth, a party trick that's usually a hit.
What are your hobbies?
Running, hiking, weight-lifting, writing, complaining about capitalism.
Have any pets?
The Queen of Floof, my furry best girl Bella (a big white fluffy dog).
What sports do you play / have you played?
See above. I run a lot, love to go on long hikes and hit the Gym 2-3 times a week. I also did Krav Maga, loved it and I'm thinking about starting MMA.
How tall are you?
1,70
Favorite subject in school?
German (literature), English, History, Social and Political Science.
Dream job?
As a kid, I wanted to be a lawyer to help people who couldn't help themselves. I'm a shit lier though. Then I wanted to be a vet but I can't see animals being in pain.
I studied psychology to become a therapist but decided against it pretty early on (learning how fucking expensive that training is). All through college I then wanted to become a forensic psychiatrist (yes, silence of the lambs is one of my favorite movies why do you ask).
Still wish I did that. Now I'm doing something totally different, using my master's degree in Human Machine Interaction. It's also cool.
Tagging (no pressure as usual): @legitcookie, @yournowheregirl, @starryeyedjanai, @firefly-party, @steddieas-shegoes, @thefreakandthehair and everyone else who wants to do this, just say I tagged you 🫶
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