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#can we just lol
stevenrogered · 6 months
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LOKI | 2x02 "Breaking Brad"
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soranker · 6 months
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laios985
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inkskinned · 1 year
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probably time for this story i guess but when i was a kid there was a summer that my brother was really into making smoothies and milkshakes. part of this was that we didn't have AC and couldn't afford to run fans all day so it was kind of important to get good at making Cool Down Concoctions.
we also had a patch of mint, and he had two impressionable little sisters who had the attitude of "fuck it, might as well."
at one point, for fun, this 16 year old boy with a dream in his eye and scientific fervor in heart just wanted to see how far one could push the idea of "vanilla mint smoothie". how much vanilla extract and how much mint can go into a blender before it truly is inedible.
the answer is 3 cups of vanilla extract, 1/2 cup milk alternative, and about 50 sprigs (not leaves, whole spring) of mint. add ice and the courage of a child. idk, it was summer and we were bored.
the word i would use to describe the feeling of drinking it would maybe be "violent" or perhaps, like. "triangular." my nose felt pristine. inhaling following the first sip was like trying to sculpt a new face. i was ensconced in a mesh of horror. it was something beyond taste. for years after, i assumed those commercials that said "this is how it feels to chew five gum" were referencing the exact experience of this singular viscous smoothie.
what's worse is that we knew our mother would hate that we wasted so much vanilla extract. so we had to make it worth it. we had to actually finish the drink. it wasn't "wasting" it if we actually drank it, right? we huddled around outside in the blistering sun, gagging and passing around a single green potion, shivering with disgust. each sip was transcendent, but in a sort of non-euclidean way. i think this is where i lost my binary gender. it eroded certain parts of me in an acidic gut ecology collapse.
here's the thing about love and trust: the next day my brother made a different shake, and i drank it without complaint. it's been like 15 years. he's now a genuinely skilled cook. sometimes one of the three of us will fuck up in the kitchen or find something horrible or make a terrible smoothie mistake and then we pass it to each other, single potion bottle, and we say try it it's delicious. it always smells disgusting. and then, cerimonious, we drink it together. because that's what family does.
#this is true#writeblr#warm up#relatedly for some reason one of our Favorite Jokes#amongst the Siblings#is like - ''this is so good u will love it''#while we are reacting to something we OBVIOUSLY find viscerally disgusting#like we will be actively retching and be like ''nooooo it's so good''#to the point that i sometimes get nervous if someone outside my family is like oh u should try it its good#(obvi we never force each other to eat anything. we are all just curious birds and#like. we're GONNA try the new thing.)#edit to answer why we had so much vanilla:#my mom is a very good cook and we LOVE to bake. so she just had a lot of staples in the house.#it's one of those things that's like. have u ever continuously thought ''ah i should get butter im probably out''#even tho u are not out of butter. so u end up with like 5 years of butter.#my mom would do that in a costco but like with vanilla extract#to be fair we WERE always using WAY TOO MUCH bc we were kids#so like she was right to stock up#ps. yes we were VERY sick after this lol i just didn't want to include it in the post in case ppl had an ick about that#u can tell it's real bc we knew "oh no we fucked up that's too much vanilla to waste'' but our reaction was to just. keep drinking it#> sibling understanding that vanilla extract isn't free > knowledge mother doesnt mind if we use it for milkshakes#> sibling choice to maybe get in a loophole of ''not wasting it'' if we drink it bc that's the same as using it (not throwing it out)#listen bud i was like 13 and my sister was like 9#when my mom discovered this we. got in. A LOT. of trouble. a lot of it. a LOT of it.#3rd edit bc i guess it isn't clear - i am 1 of my brother's 2 little sisters#i am the middle child#out of all the ways i have had to explain a post before being like ''did u forget a middle child can happen'' is my favorite
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viveela · 2 months
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Such a funny new video enjoyed it lots
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raziraphale · 10 months
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Tag your age if you wanna bc I was just thinking about how I have used floppy disks before (I'm 25 and used them in elementary computer lab) but my 22 y.o. brother hasn't which is so weird to me like 3 years isn't a long time at all to me
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uncanny-tranny · 2 months
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I recall saying this before, but it bears repeating:
There could be a billion trans people in the world and it still wouldn't be a bad thing because being trans is not a bad thing. Even if the rate of people discovering they are trans is "disproportionate" to trends from decades ago, that is not a bad thing. In fact, it's a natural consequence for there being more trans people being able to stay alive, and, overall, being able to live in a slightly more tolerant world. You'd only see that as a bad thing if you actively didn't want trans people to either live or live a life that facilitates wellness.
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makanidotdot · 3 months
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soepwashere · 7 months
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I was rereading the rise comics recently and I feel the need to point out that Mikey is carrying Raph and Leo on his shoulders so casually in these panels
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mintjeru · 25 days
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"but there is nothing more beautiful and terrifying than innocence."
open for better quality | no reposts
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syn0vial · 5 months
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my gun-loving, car guy, "i'm the straightest man i know" brother who just finished baldur's gate 3 talking about astarion:
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fiepige · 7 months
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Compilation of EVERY single time they changed Hobie's filter in the digital version:
Left: Theatrical release Right: Digital release
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You might have to click on some of them to get a better look at Hobie, sadly I don't have a video editor that allows me to make better edits than these :')
#This took so long to make lol#cause I had to edit every scene with Hobie from both versions so I could watch them right after one another to compare them#I did this with ALL the scenes he's in also the ones where he's on screen as spider-punk#but they only changed his filters in these scenes so it was a waste of time :')#sidenote: no it wasn't it's never a waste of time to look at hobie I just couldn't use it for my GIFset lol#I also made a bouns one but I'm not allowed to post more than 30 GIFs in one post apparently so I guess I just won't add it then...#but Hobie was basically filterless during all these scenes in the theatrical version#I like that they gave him more different filters in the digital version#the only change I don't like is in the first GIFs#cause like that one post pointed out it looks like they removed his lipstick for some reason#also really wish I had a better video editor so we could get a closer look at Hobie but I did my best with what I had#also slowed some of them down to get a better look at them#been having this idea for a while and now I finally finished it!#which means I can go back to working on my fics now#hopefully lol#also lemme know if there are some other scens you guys want me to make comparisons of#cause I have both versions#the theatrical release isn't the highest quality though so if you know where I can get my hands on a better version lemme know ;)#hobie brown#spider punk#miles morales#spider man#peter b parker#jess drew#miguel o'hara#spider man across the spider verse#across the spider verse#across the spiderverse#atsv#theatrical version
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stevenrogered · 27 days
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wispscribbles · 10 months
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i bring u... angst
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inkskinned · 3 months
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crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.
i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.
in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.
i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.
i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.
plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.
the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.
we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.
i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.
a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.
today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.
loved beyond thinking.
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sp0o0kylights · 6 months
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Part One
The drive's short one. 
Steve gets out of his car, opening the passenger door for Chrissy and escorting her up to the house, quietly envisioning what Jason would look like if a real monster got him.
What would he say, staring down the crazy, five-starred head, filled with teeth and drool? Would he turn back? Or run?
(Steve swears he doesn't take great pleasure in imagining Carver getting eaten, but he'll admit to taking a little.)  
"Chrissy do you have any idea--oh." Mrs. Cunningham startles, grasping her robe at the front as she spots Steve standing next to her daughter.  
"Hi Miss Cunningham." He says.
"Hello." She says suspiciously. "And who are you?"
"I'm Steve Harrington, ma'am." He watches as her mother straightens immediately at his name, and sinks right into the ol' Harrington charm, knowing instantly it will work. "I know you were expecting Jason, but I'm afraid he wasn't able to drive Chrissy home." 
"Oh, Steve! It's so late I almost didn't recognize you." She titters, suspicion gone. "Your mother and I are on the same charity board." 
Of course they were.
"I thought you were dating that nice Nancy girl." She says with a squint that mimics Chrissy's, because even in the midst of a crisis he can't escape the gossip that is Hawkins upper echelon. 
"Nance is waiting in the car." Steve lies smoothly. "I just wanted to make sure Chrissy got home safe." 
"What happened?" Chrissy's father appears, ushering them both in while blatantly peering around them, eyes sweeping the street before closing the door.
Steve recognizes the move. He's checking for nosy neighbors. 
"Jason and I broke up." Chrissy admits.
"What?" 
"We..." She falters in front of her parents. 
"What happened to Jason?" Her father asks, tuning back in once they're safely away from peering eyes.
"I'm afraid Jason and some of his friends brought beer to the party." Steve steps in to explain.  
"Oh Chrissy, it's a high school party. That's no reason to break up with him." Her mother fusses, face flushing in embarrassment. Her eyes dart from her daughter to Steve and back, and Steve knows he needs to start damage control. 
If he plays it right he can burn Jason while he's at it. 
"He was horrible, mom. Just awful." Chrissy says, but Steve can tell she's shrinking under her mothers gaze. 
"He drank quite a lot, Miss Cunningham." With a theatrical wince, Steve turns to face Chrissy's dad, lowers his voice and says "I'm going to have to talk to Coach about it." 
He gets the intended response, which is a raised eyebrow. "That bad, huh?" 
Steve nods once, painting a pained smile on his face. "He made a real fool of himself tonight, Sir. The basketball team has a reputation to uphold." 
"Oh." Mrs. Cunningham says, hand fluttering in front of her face. "I never would have thought…"
"He's normally a good guy. I don't know what got into him." Steve has them both eating out of the palm of his hand, attention neatly off Chrissy and onto the story he's feeding them. 
Its worth it to see her shoulders relax. 
"I couldn't let him take Chrissy home in the state he was in Sir, and he got very…" 
Steve pauses. 
Fills his voice with tempered disappointment, channeling his dad. "Belligerent. Said some nasty things."  
"Really?" Mr. Cunningham says, with a low whistle, and Steve knows by his tone alone that he's bought in.
Hook, line, sinker.
Steve nods once. "I have to get back to my girlfriend, but Chrissy'" He turns earnestly here, to let her know he's not faking this next bit. "Let me know if Jason bothers you at school. I'll set him straight again if I have to." 
"Thank you Steve." Mr. Cunningham says, as Chrissy's mom hustles her daughter towards the kitchen. 
Steve shakes his hand, then waves at Crissy as she calls her own thank you over her shoulder, before disappearing out the door and back to his car.
The same one where Nancy very much isn't. 
That's a problem for tomorrow Steve.
xXx
Tomorrow Steve gets into an argument with Nancy. 
She can't recall that Jonathan took her home, or that he's bullshit, their whole relationship, bullshit--
But she also can't tell him she loves him.
So Steve snaps at her. Storms off.
 Play’s more basketball.
It takes less than two hours for him to get mopey and another three for him to spiral into deciding he was wrong somehow.
That's what his mom said all the time anyway, wasn't it? The man's always wrong Steven, and he's the man here so…
He gets flowers, chocolates, and fucking waylaid (by Dustin Henderson with his Grow a Monster) and things go sideways from there.
 Train tracks and a junkyard and demodogs make time speed up. An encounter with Billy and a dinner plate causes Steve's recollection of the evening to be fuzzy. 
He just knows that in the middle of dodging death, he has the realization that Nance wants to break up with him.
That he should let her. 
Even if it hurts, even if he doesn't want to. 
She wants to be let go.
So Steve does. He respects her, and when he has a moment after its all over, he tells her to go with Jonathan.
(At least he permanently gets the squirts out if this. Or at least everyone but Mike.
Even if most of them are shitheads and one of them's Hargrove's step sister.
It's--something.
But when Dustin keeps pestering him, demanding Steve drive him all over Hawkins and then drags him to the movies, well.
It might be the best something Steve's had in his life so far. )
xXx
"Oh shit. Is that from Caver?" Eddie asks, popping up near Steve's car like the clown in a jack in the box. 
"Carver can't hit for shit. This was Hargrove." Steve replies, attempting an eyeroll before remembering that his entire face is a bruise. 
One, giant, never ending bruise. 
"I guess his step sister gave him the slip to come hang out with these kids I watch sometimes. I didn't know she wasn't supposed to be there." Steve shrugs, because it's the technical truth. 
If you turn it sideways and squint anyway. 
"Asshole tried to threaten the kid Max is into by slamming him into a wall and screaming shit, so I stepped in, and--" He waves at his face. 
The same one he's already getting looks for. 
"I was winning." Steve sighs theatrically. "He broke a plate over my head."
The story seemed to freeze Eddie but he recovers with a quick shake of his head. 
"You poor thing." He tuts. "Let me guess--you were more worried about the hair than the wound?" 
Eddie's hands flutter like he's going to touch Steve's head but he seems to contain himself at the last minute.
The hospital threatened to buzz it for stitches." Steve says darkly, playing into the bit. 
(He had not gone to a hospital. 
None of them had.)  
"What would our King be without his crown of hair?" Eddie laments, in a falsetto that was half insult half oddly sincere. It was jarring in that it was hard to get a read on, but the more Steve was around the guy the less it seemed malicious and the more it came off  as just….goofy.
Eddie Munson, Steve decided, was not a freak.
 He was a dorky little weirdo, just like all the other kids Steve now hung out with. 
Just older, and with slightly better hair. 
"Hey Eddie." Another boy calls out, approaching cautiously. 
He's got a leather jacket on, and if Steve thinks hard enough he can sort of conjure up a memory of the guy at Eddie's lunch table, throwing a piece of bread at a pale sophomore decked out in plaid. "You good man?" 
"Yeah Jeff, just checkin' in on the Hair here." Eddie sticks a thumb towards Steve, who raises his hand and waves. 
The falsetto comes back, somehow higher as the older boy swoons over Steves arm. "Soothing his poor soul after that brute Hargrove almost killed him." 
"Has anyone ever told you you're a lot like Bugs Bunny?" Steve asks, the thought leaving his mouth the instant he had it.
(He doesn't care, it's a legitimate question.) 
It has the effect of making Munson look downright chuffed. "I have actually, but only by my Uncle." 
"Why are you checking in?" Jeff interrupts, before seeming to realize he said it out loud. " Ah, I mean--"
"Oh he didn't tell you?" Steve says, as casually as he can muster. "Eddie claimed me and Chrissy at a party last weekend." 
See Munson? Two people could play the weird bit game. 
They've attracted more of Eddie's friends now, two more boys in leather jackets edging closer like frightened deer. 
(One of which is the aforementioned younger man Jeff threw bread at, and Steve vaguely thinks the guy's name starts with a g.) 
"Apparently we're his minions now." Steve tells Jeff in a rather put upon manner. 
"It was just you, the fair maiden chose otherwise." Eddie counters dismissively, voice dropping down low. 
Steve snorts. Hums a sarcastic; "Like you'd let us choose." 
Eddie finally abandons whatever voice that was supposed to be (a villain, Steve thinks, and wonders if it hurts Eddies throat to drop from a false high to a deep low that quickly.)  to say:
 "Mock me all you like, Harrington, but you can't deny the bit worked." 
Steve automatically went for another eye roll, and gets a flash of pain for it. "Who said I was mocking you, you dork? Just stating facts." 
Yet again, Eddie reacts weird to the comment. He looks almost bashful for a second, before he recovers, tugging his hair in front of his face as he plays with it.
The bell rings once in warning, and Steve makes a face towards the doors. 
"I gotta go, Mrs Clicks out to fail me. See you around, Eddie. Jeff." The way his eyes are bruised up he can't quite make out the face Jeff makes at that, but Steve's pretty sure the guys mouth was open. 
"She's a nasty one, my minion, best stay on your toes around her." Eddie calls, and Steve waves a hand in the air to show he heard. 
"What just happened?" Jeff asks, far too loudly for how close Steve still is. 
It makes him chuckle a bit, even as one of the other guys says something in a far quieter voice that has Munson squawking and flapping his arms like a bird. 
The winding little feelings in his chest squeeze his heart, and Steve shakes his head, refusing to be fond of Eddie Munson. 
xXx
College rejection letters come in, one after the another.
Steve could have made it into a few schools he's certain, except he hadn't really applied to any.
Not that any college other than Penn Hurst mattered. His dad wanted him to be a legacy, come hell or high water.
Steve's punishment was hand picked by his parents, and he gets the sailor outfit his new minimum wage job requires is supposed to be a part of it--that his dad made him apply because it was the most embarrassing thing he could think to subject Steve too-- but honestly? 
It's not that bad. 
Not even with Robin, the manager he met yesterday, and who positively, completely and totally, hates Steve’s guts.  
He figures he has time to win her over. 
All the time in the world, now that demons aren't trying to eat his, or any of the kid's, faces. He can focus on the small things. Build himself back up.
Figure out the person he wants to be, now that he's no longer King Steve. 
It’s the thought that kept him from attending any graduation parties. To go felt like backsliding into old habits. 
‘If the kids--if it comes back again--’ 
Getting drunk at night in a random house seemed almost irresponsible.
Particularly not with people Steve has history with, without anyone he really cares about being present. Certainly not Nance and Jonathan, who he wishes he didn’t know are at some end-of-year game night one of Nancy’s friends is hosting. 
(Steve can’t think about that for a number of reasons. 
When he does--because of course he does-- he makes sure to focus on the weirdness that is Jonathan Byers being someone he cares about, instead of the fact he can’t seem to kill his love for Nancy. 
Or that he's horrifically jealous of their relationship. 
That the best sleep he had ever had was between them, two nights after the lab, when they crammed themselves into Jonathan's bed because they all couldn't quite believe it was over.
That night had been so incredibly weird, but grouping together felt safer. Smarter.
Better.
Not in a way Steve wants to put into words. 
Not in a way he wants to confront at all.) 
His parents hadn’t been able to make it home to watch him walk at his graduation--his father landing a last minute meeting with some important person or other. 
Faked apologies were given, money transferred, and Steve, not wanting to sit in his too-huge house, had meandered to Family Video. 
Tried to forget his father’s cold voice in the background of his mother’s call, loudly announcing he’d have made it a priority to see Steve graduate-- if he’d gotten into Penn Hurst. 
Steve just shakes his head. Pushes those thoughts into the back of his head, into the same place all his other weird thoughts live.
The glare he gets from the tall, pimple-ridden guy working the rental counter was expected.
Chrissy Cunningham, was not. 
"I thought you’d be at one of the parties.” He tells her, when he turns down the romance aisle and finds her staring blankly at a shelf. 
She startles, before recognition flits over her face and a warm smile is directed his way. 
“I'm honestly not a fan of parties." She confides in him, hand clutching a tape in her hands."Not those kinds, anyway.” 
"More slumber parties, less keg stands your speed?" Steve guessed, blatantly turning his head sideways in order to read the title.
She awards him with a wider smile. "Exactly." 
"Chrissy Cunningham. Are you renting Jaws?" He teases, leaning in just a touch.
She flushes, but turns and squares up to him. Steve's delighted to see it. 
"Why yes I am. I'll do you one better and even admit it's one of my favorite movies." 
Steve grins at her, and sees the way she lights up on response, eyes bright. 
This is the Chrissy that Carver had tried to kill. The strength and pure fun that radiates off her enhances the beauty she has to something almost otherworldly. 
Steve has seen enough beauty in his life to recognize when it will stay. That Chrissy wil one day be 80 years old, with gray hair and knit sweaters, and she'll still be able to light up a room. 
"Like sharks killing people that much huh?” He teases. And it’s easy, slipping into this part of himself around her. The part he’s been trying to get back. 
The confidence that he walked with, before monsters crawled out of the ground, and Nancy put a hole in his heart.
"I'll let you in on a secret. ." Chrissy leans in, dropping her voice low enough that Steve has to lean in a bit too to hear. "My favorite character is the shark." 
Steve playfully gapes at her, and for the first  time in a long time, feels like things will be okay. 
He’ll be okay.
He won’t be King Steve. He’s not Nancy's Boyfriend Steve either--but someone else. Himself.
A Steve who exists outside of Hawkins High, outside his family name. 
He likes it.
"I told you that was his car. Steve!" A too familiar voice calls and Steve can't mask the despair that hits him as he turns to his (now least) favorite shithead, whose storming through Family Video’s doors. 
"Dustin." He identifies, with an edge to his voice he can only pray Chrissy doesn't pick up on. "Other brats. What are you doing?" 
Mike stands stubbornly at Dustin's right, Lucas nervous at his left. 
Will Byers is situated next to Mike but Steve's not as familiar with him, and has no idea how to interpret the kid. 
If he had to guess based on the face he’s being sent, Will’s more nervous then the rest--but equally determined. 
(This does not make Steve feel better. It in fact, somewhat convinces them they’ve run headfirst back into trouble.) 
"Well we were going to go to Lucas’s, but now, we're bumming a ride from you!" 
"I'm busy." He says flatly. 
"Ste~eeeve!" 
"I didn't know you had a brother." Chrissy says, hand covering her mouth. 
Looking back at her, Steve's pretty sure she's trying to physically hold back laughter. 
If one could shoot lasers with their eyes, Steve would be nailing Dustin for ruining--whatever it was that was happening here. 
"He's a rescue" Steve says flatly. "It’s not working out though. We're planning on returning him to the shelter.” 
"Wow Steve." Dustin returns, offended. "First of all, if anyone's rescuing anyone I rescued you, or did you suddenly forget that you show up to family dinner every Thursday at my house like a sad orpha--mmpphh!" 
‘Mmpphh’ because Steve had taken several long strides across the store to smack his hand over Dustin's mouth. 
"Sorry Chrissy, it would appear the asshole children I am paid to babysit escaped whoever is supposed to be watching them." He shakes Dustins head, in lue of strangling him. “Hit me up later we’ll discuss the shark’s best kills.” 
“Will do.” Chrissy says, as Steve begins the process of shoving his four smaller friends out the door. “Drive safe!” 
“No you don’t, and you’re gonna prove it by swinging through McDonalds for us.” Dustin sing-songs, swinging himself into the passenger side of the Beemer. 
“You assholes owe me, big time.” Steve hisses, as Lucas and Mike instantly begin making kissy faces the second they’re out into the parking lot. "I had plans tonight!"
“Do you have McDonalds money?” Steve asks, only to immediately wince at himself because fuck did he just sound like a soccer mom. 
“I have money I took out of my mom’s wallet.” Mike says as he settles into the car with his friends.
“Fine.” Steve sighs in defeat, starting the car. 
He determinedly does not ask if the idiots walked here, because there is a suspicious lack of bicycles, if only because he hit his mom quota for the day and Steve refuses to say anything else that might edge out his cool persona.
The one he swears he still has.
Supposedly. 
("Does my mom really pay you to watch me?" Dustin asks a while later, when the other brats are distracted. His voice is painfully honest, and softer than it normally is. 
"In food, yes." Steve says, because he’s not that much of an asshole--and maybe, because Dustin is truly his only friend right now.
Steve honestly looks forward to those Thursday dinners, helping Ma Henderson and having her fuss over him in a way his parents never had. 
In a way no one ever had. 
Dustin lands a solid kick to his ankle, making Steve curse. "That's not payment you ass!"
"Ow, God Dustin--" 
"Just admit you're my actual friend, you dick!" 
"Language! I swear your mom stole you from wolves, you animal--" Steve swatted at him. 
Maybe, possibly later, he will go on to admit that yes, Dustin is his friend. 
He will even agree to making up a stupid handshake for it. 
It involves lightsabers and gore at least, which Steve insists is very cool.)
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solarockk · 1 month
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13 year old tea
designs // first meeting
shiny duo pokemon au "Pokémon’s Shiny Jewels Sun&Moonstone" by @wyvernspirit and I
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