#I really be wanting to talk to her and hangout and then it’s just like her talking unless I have to be like ‘mom pls youre doing it again’

[moonlightwritingf1]

Pillow Talk | LN4

★ summary ━━━━━━━ Lando and Y/N cuddle in bed after a long, tiring day.

★ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

★ word count ━━━━━━━ 2.8k

Based on this request.

It’s nearly midnight, and rain streaks down the floor-to-ceiling windows of Y/N’s bedroom, blurring the glittering skyline beyond. The soft patter of raindrops against the glass fills the silence between them, a rhythmic lullaby to the storm brewing outside. The air still carries the lingering warmth of their shared shower—steam still lingering in the air, the scent of her shampoo and his body wash mixing in a quiet intimacy.

Y/n lay curled up under a plush white duvet, her head nestled in the crook of Lando’s shoulder. He lay on his back, one arm wrapped around her while his free hand brushed gentle strokes along her arm. They had finished dinner at her favorite Thai restaurant earlier that night, laughing over shared dishes before heading back to her place to shower and wind down. Now, surrounded by the cozy comfort of her bed, time felt slower—each moment more precious.

It had been five months since they officially became a couple, though they had known each other for way longer. The initial weeks of their relationship had been a mixture of bashful smiles and playful teasing; Y/n constantly reminded herself that she had been wary of Lando, yet somehow, in those five short months, he had shown her just how tender and genuine he could be.

“Hey,” he whispered softly, dipping his head to catch her gaze. “You okay?”

“Mm-hmm,” she murmured, letting her cheek rest against his warm chest. “Just tired. Work was brutal today, and I’ve been running on caffeine fumes. Having you here…makes it better.”

Lando’s lips curved into a slow, affectionate grin. He pressed a light kiss to her forehead, inhaling the faint floral scent of her shampoo. “I’m happy to be here,” he murmured, his voice low. “You have no idea how much I look forward to these nights.”

She smiled against his skin. “I think I have an idea, considering the amount of texts you send me when I’m stuck in meetings,” she teased, recalling the playful onslaught of messages and voice notes he’d sent throughout her workday.

“You love it,” Lando teased right back, turning slightly so that he faced her more fully. His hand continued to run gentle circles on her shoulder. “Besides, I can’t help it when I miss you. Monaco’s nice, but I’d pick London and you any day.”

She smiled at his words, cheeks warming at the sincerity she heard in his voice. There was a contented silence for a while as she listened to his heartbeat. 

“You’ve gotten comfortable in my space,” Y/n noted, half-closing her eyes. “Remember how you practically sprinted in here the first time, looking around like you were on a secret mission?”

Lando chuckled, recalling the memory. He had been so eager to see where she spent her days, to be a part of her world beyond the dinners and the group hangouts. “What can I say? I like to know every inch of your life.” He squeezed her gently, the tone in his voice growing softer. “I’m just glad you finally let me in.”

Her hand drifted up to trace the outline of his jaw. Though they teased each other, there was an undercurrent of emotion swirling between them—something tender and powerful that she found simultaneously comforting and electrifying. “I’m glad I did, too,” she admitted. “You’ve been…worth it.”

His eyes sparked with warmth. He tilted his head and gently brushed his nose against hers. It was a fleeting, almost childlike gesture, but it sent a surprising jolt of warmth through her. She could feel the beginning strains of tension—the lovely kind that made her want to pull him closer.

“How’re you feeling now?” he asked, letting his fingers dip to her waist. A playful glint appeared in his eyes as he noticed the way her breath caught.

“Tired,” she repeated, then paused. “But also…really happy.”

He smirked. “So, if you had to choose one…which is it right now? Sleepy or happy? Or maybe something else?” The slight growl in his voice suggested the possibility of “something else.”

She bit her lip, trying to keep from letting out a giggle. “Stop that,” she murmured, a small laugh escaping anyway.

“Stop what?” he asked, tilting his head in feigned innocence. His hand skimmed her waist again in a playful manner, and she felt her heart flutter.

“You’re being a tease,” she said, half laughing and half scolding, but her tone was gentle—she was far from annoyed. It was a familiar dance, one that she’d grown more comfortable with over the months.

“Me?” Lando said in mock offense. “Never.”

She rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide her grin. She allowed herself to scoot closer, pressing into his warmth as the rain continued its steady patter on the glass.

“You smell really nice,” he commented in a low voice, taking a moment to nuzzle into her hair. “That shampoo—it’s jasmine, right?”

“Jasmine and a bit of vanilla,” she confirmed, letting her eyes flutter shut for just a moment.

Lando’s free hand found hers, their fingers interlacing beneath the duvet. “You want me to put a movie on?” he asked. “We can do that, or we can just…talk.”

She lifted her head slightly, resting her chin on his chest as she peered up at him. “I wouldn’t mind just talking.”

He smiled. “Tell me about your day. The real version, not the polite one.”

She exhaled, letting out a small laugh. “It was…stressful. The project my team is working on is behind schedule, and my boss wasn’t exactly thrilled. We had to do a lot of damage control. On top of that, I had to skip lunch to attend a meeting that should have been an email.”

“Sounds rough,” he sympathized. His thumb drew soothing patterns across her knuckles. “Did you eat enough for dinner at least?”

She nodded. “I did, thank you for making sure I got extra spring rolls,” she teased.

Lando grinned. “I’ll always make sure you eat plenty of spring rolls. I care about you,” he said, only half-joking. “I want to take care of you, you know.”

She felt her heart flutter at his earnestness. Looking up, she saw the gentle concern etched onto his face, and warmth spread through her chest. “You already do,” she whispered, moving her hand to gently cup his cheek. She felt the light stubble there, and a tingle raced through her. “More than anyone ever has.”

His expression softened, and he dipped his head to press his lips against hers in a tender kiss. It wasn’t rushed or insistent; it was warm and certain. She let herself melt into it for a moment, forgetting the world outside her door.

When they parted, Lando brushed a lock of hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “So, tomorrow,” he began, shifting under the covers so he could face her more easily, “we can stay in and order breakfast, or we can go out for a walk by the river. It’s supposed to be nicer in the morning, I think. The forecast said the rain should stop overnight.”

Her eyes flickered to the window where the raindrops continued. “A walk might be nice. But I’ll warn you, I’m probably sleeping in.”

“Good,” he answered quickly. “You need the rest.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And you’ll be wide awake, what, making me coffee?”

His grin deepened. “Actually, I might just stay in bed and watch you sleep for a bit. But, sure, I can make coffee too. I’m multi-talented, you know—F1 driver, coffee expert, professional girlfriend-spoiler.”

She giggled softly, lightly swatting his shoulder. “Don’t be creepy,” she teased, though the image of him being there, simply adoring her when she woke, sent a wave of comfort and contentment through her. “But okay, deal. You can watch me sleep, then we’ll have coffee. Then maybe we walk along the river.”

“Sounds perfect.” He placed a soft kiss on her temple. “Anything else you want? Whatever you want to do, I’m all yours tomorrow.”

She studied his face for a moment, taking in his bright eyes that always seemed to hold an easy smile. Five months ago, she never would have pictured being this cozy with him—this intimately connected. Now, she couldn’t imagine not having him around.

“Right now,” she said, her voice quiet, “I just want you to hold me.”

Lando’s gaze flicked down to her lips, then back up to her eyes, and he nodded. “Come here.” He guided her head back down to his shoulder, wrapping his arms around her so she was secure against him. They sank deeper into the pillows, the duvet a soft cloud around their bodies.

For a while, they simply breathed together. The occasional gust of wind rattled against the window, but it only made the room feel more intimate. He nuzzled his nose into her hair, inhaling the jasmine-vanilla scent once more. She could feel his heart beating against her cheek, strong and steady.

Eventually, she spoke again, her voice muffled by his shirt. “I’m so relaxed, I might fall asleep on you.”

“Then I’ll be the most comfortable pillow you’ve ever had,” he teased, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Mmm,” she mumbled, contentment evident in her tone. She ran her fingertips lightly over his chest, feeling the fabric of his t-shirt move under her hand. “I like how you feel. You’re so warm.”

“Is that so?” he teased in a husky whisper, his hand drifting to the curve of her waist. There was a gentle pressure that sent a shiver through her, a teasing reminder of how good it felt whenever he touched her. The sexual tension that always lingered between them rose to the surface, making her breath hitch.

She caught his gaze, and for a moment, words seemed unnecessary. A current of unspoken desire passed between them. He leaned down and kissed her slowly, more deeply this time, but still with that careful tenderness that made her stomach flutter.

Her lips parted, savoring the warmth and reassurance he poured into that moment. Then he pulled back, ever-so-slightly. “Don’t want to tire you out even more,” he teased, breathless.

She let out a soft laugh, her cheeks warming. “We have all night,” she reminded him softly, and there was a gentle challenge in her eyes—a playfulness that mirrored his own.

“So we do,” he agreed, pulling her impossibly closer. He brushed his lips against her neck, leaving a trail of light kisses before letting his forehead rest against her shoulder. “No rush for anything, right?”

“Right,” she whispered, a smile tugging at her lips. “We have all the time in the world.”

Another quiet lull settled over them, comfortable and intimate. She splayed a hand across his chest, feeling his heartbeat, and closed her eyes.

“Thank you,” she murmured after a while, her voice soft with sincerity.

“For what?”

“For making me feel safe,” she said, looking up at him. “You know I don’t always let people in easily. But you—” She paused, a slight smile lighting her face. “You never gave up on me. Even when I was making it complicated, you were there. You’re always here.”

“Of course,” he said, tightening his hold around her. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She leaned in and pressed her lips to his collarbone in a feather-light kiss. “I don’t want you to.”

He let out a happy sigh, brushing his lips across her forehead once more. “Good,” he murmured, “because I’m exactly where I want to be.”

They continued to hold each other, exchanging soft kisses and whispers in the dim light. The rest of the world seemed far away—a distant hum outside her skyscraper apartment. Beneath the covers, they shared slow caresses and hushed laughs, the gentle friction of their bodies creating a warmth more comforting than any blanket could provide.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, as though the words had been pulled from somewhere deep inside him. His lips found her forehead, pressing a kiss that lingered, and the sensation sent a wave of warmth cascading through her body. She tilted her face upward, meeting his gaze, and the intensity in his eyes made her breath catch. His thumb brushed her cheek, tracing the curve of her jaw before his lips captured hers in a kiss that was slow and reverent, as if he were memorizing the feel of her with every touch.

Her fingers tangled in the fabric of his shirt, holding him close as she kissed him back, savoring the way his lips moved against hers—soft, yet insistent. There was a sweetness to it, a simplicity that made her heart ache in the best way. When he pulled back slightly, his breath warm against her skin, she could feel the curve of his smile against her lips.

“What is it?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

His eyes searched hers, the corners crinkling with affection. “You,” he said simply, as though the word itself held the weight of everything he couldn’t quite articulate. “You feel like home.”

Her chest tightened, and she buried her face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of him—clean, with a faint trace of his cologne, mixed with the warmth of his skin. His arms tightened around her, pulling her even closer, and she felt utterly safe, utterly cherished. There was no room for doubt or insecurity in his embrace; here, in his arms, she was everything she’d always wanted to be—loved, valued, seen.

He kissed her again, this time on the temple, his lips lingering as if he were savoring the moment. His hand slid down her arm, fingers interlocking with hers, their palms pressed together. The intimacy of it—barely a movement, yet so deliberate—sent a shiver through her. She squeezed his hand, and he chuckled softly.

“What?” she asked, smiling against his chest.

“You’re so soft,” he said, his voice warm. “Every time I touch you, I can’t believe how lucky I am.”

Her cheeks flushed, the praise warming her from the inside out. She tilted her head to look at him, her gaze tracing the curve of his jaw, the faint stubble that shadowed his skin. He looked at her as though she were the only thing that mattered, his eyes soft with adoration.

“You make me feel...” she started, then hesitated, searching for the right words. “Like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

His smile deepened, and he pressed his forehead to hers, his breath mingling with hers in the space between them. “You are,” he said simply. “Right here, with me—you’re exactly where you belong.”

She closed her eyes, savoring the words, the way they wrapped around her like a soft blanket. His lips brushed hers again, this time with a subtle urgency, as if he couldn’t quite get enough of her. She kissed him back, her hands sliding up to tangle in his hair, her body arching slightly toward his. Every touch, every breath, every heartbeat felt magnified, as though they were connected on a level that went beyond the physical.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them slightly breathless, she rested her head back on his chest, her fingers splayed across his heart. His hand continued to stroke her arm, his touch light and soothing. The room was quiet except for the sound of their breathing, steady and synchronized.

She felt it then—a sense of peace so profound it almost brought tears to her eyes. In his arms, she wasn’t just Y/N, the girl who worked long hours. She was his. And that was enough—more than enough. She closed her eyes, letting the warmth of his embrace and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lull her into a state of perfect content.

“I love you,” he whispered, the words soft but certain, breaking the silence.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at him, her heart swelling in her chest. “I love you, too,” she said, her voice steady, each word filled with the depth of her emotion.

He kissed her once more, a slow, lingering kiss that spoke of promises and forever. And as they lay there together, wrapped in each other’s warmth, the rest of the world faded away, leaving only this—only them. And it was perfect.

Eventually, as the rain started to taper off and the rhythmic pattern grew faint, Y/n felt her eyelids grow heavy. Her long day was catching up to her, but she felt content in a way she rarely experienced.

Noticing her struggle to stay awake, Lando gently shifted to guide her head back down to his chest. “Sleep,” he whispered, pressing his lips to her temple. “I’ll be here.”

She managed a small nod, allowing the steady thrum of his heartbeat to lull her into drowsiness. “Stay,” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper, but he caught it.

He smiled in the darkness. “Always,” he whispered back, stroking her hair until she drifted off.

[steviewashere]

Filling Static in the Dead Air

Rating: General Pairings: Robin & Steve, Steddie, Robin/Original Female Character CW: Robin and Steve Being Assholes To Each Other, Friendship Breakup Tags: Post-Canon, Angst, No Comfort, Bittersweet Ending, Unhappy Ending, Dialogue Heavy, Phone Conversations, Letters, Steve & Robin's Friendship, Time Splitting Up Friendships, Platonic Stobin, Steve Harrington Loves Robin Buckley, Robin Buckley Loves Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart Am I basing this off of experience? Maybe. Is this kinda out of character? Probably. Anyway.

☎️—————☎️ *BEEP*

“Hey, Robbie…it’s…well, it’s Steve. Um, I-I’ve been trying to catch you for a while now…seems we’re missing each other a lot these days, huh? No big deal, I’ve been busy…you’ve been busy. I get it. So. Just wanted to call and say that I…I really hope you have a good day. Think that’s all I say nowadays, but I mean it. Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it. And…and I hope that exams go over swimmingly. You’re, like, the smartest person I know—don’t tell Dustin I said that, if you…if you, um, still keep in touch with him—anyway. You’ve got this. You’re gonna do amazing, I know it. Soooo…yeah. Yeah, that’s all. If you need anything from me—or even Eddie—or um…if you just wanna talk to your favorite dingus, I’ll be here. There’s a gap in my schedule, new job on the horizon, hopefully. I’ve got the time for you, that’s all I’m saying. Yeah. I…I think that’s it? Love you, Robbie. Call me soon?”

——— Steve can admit—now that it’s been a couple of years—that when Robin said she was going to college out of state, his heart and stomach dropped out of him to the floor. It was a sort of sixth sense he’s adapted to. This aura, a curdling sick sense, that would sit dormant until the words left somebody’s mouth. “I’m leaving.” That’s all it took. 

Not the kind of leaving when a hangout was over. Not the kind of leaving when the party came to a halt. Not the kind of leaving when the day’s been run through.

No, it was the kind of leaving that meant business trips and a stale home, playdates by himself on his knees in the wood chips, and friends going over yonder from grass fields and tornado sirens.

His brain was kind enough to flip an hourglass distantly for him. Once the sand dwindled from one side, it was over. And that had been approaching a while with Robin. He always knew that it would happen in the aftermath of one of those Upside Down free-for-alls. Just…he didn’t expect it so immediately. When Vecna crumpled into himself like a paper bag, wounds scarred over, and July came rolling on in.

And then 1987 passed.

Followed by 1988.

Now, in the dead winter of 1989, during the big college winter break season, before a whole new decade rolled in, he’s not so sure about this friendship anymore. That’s not to say that it wasn’t a good one. That he didn’t laugh and spill his secrets and have weird proximity sleepovers in his basement—despite having the guest rooms upstairs. No, he loved Robin with every coiled fiber of his soul. To the moon and back. All those cliche things.

She was the only girl that ever mattered in his life nowadays. He dreamed of her. Wept over her. Celebrated with her. They chatted for hours after she lost her virginity, whisper calling while her hook-up (now girlfriend) snored in the background. Robin was the first one to hear about when he was eventually kicked out of his parents’ place, when he hauled ass to a dingy shoebox apartment near a dilapidated McDonald’s that didn’t survive Vecna. When he stirred up forgotten feelings in his chest, he laid star-spread on his bathroom floor, spooning melted ice cream past his lips, sobbing about a boy. And, eventually, when he had Eddie problems? To Robin he went.

He knows that she’s busy. Always is. Between foreign language club meetings, study sessions in her college’s library, and having brunch with the girls…Robin’s not a free bird anymore. She belonged to the college life, to sorority parties where she frenched her girlfriend in a linen closet and managed handstands over kegs. Sometimes, he’d be lucky to get a call at those parties, Robin’s syrup slurred voice and her hideous hiccups like muffled laughter over the speaker. Other times, he just had to hope she made it back to her dorm okay.

It’s partially his fault, too. Been switching rapid between jobs. Family Video to RadioShack to Circle K to Walmart. Then, after that, he fell into his couch with a pink slip in his hand. Too many tardies. Too many late nights where he fought sleep as if it were Billy Hargrove’s racist mouth, but he couldn’t call Robin those nights and he couldn’t curl into Eddie the right way. So. He misses her calls, he wipes his answering machine because it gets too full, he’s between jobs on his sorry fucking couch, and Robin’s too busy nowadays to reach out.

But he keeps trying. Boy, does he keep trying.

——— *BEEP*

“Steve…Stevie…*sniff* hey, um, I’m sorry. Keep missing you, dingus. I miss you like crazy. It’s…this place isn’t right without you. But I spent kind of a lot of money to be here. And I think I’m gonna be in debt until the day I fucking die and—*sniff*—sorry, shit. My new roommate this semester…god, can you believe it’s been a whole semester since you called me? I’ll try and get better on that, swear. Anyway. My new roommate is a colossal bitch, just capital B Bitch. Had, um, th-that nightmare about Scoops? You know the one. Where you…yeah…um…she hates that I cry in my sleep. That I—*sob*—do that, sobbing. And then I try and call you on those nights, but either you aren’t home or you’re busy doing Eddie or something or…or she yells at me for calling you. But…but I swear, Steve, I miss you, too. And if I could, I’d come bother the fuck out of you. Finals went well. January’s being January over here. Snowing like crazy. Anyway. Just called because you did, to say I’m sorry, to just…I was hoping to hear your voice. Make sure that you’re not…I’ll call you, okay? If I don’t…if I don’t, I’m sorry. My schedule’s out of my control most days. Yeah…yeah, I’m sorry.”

——— “You’re gonna burn a hole into that phone if you keep staring at it, Steve.”

He blinks, eyes dry, and looks over to Eddie. Backlit by the bright snow through the windows, hanging up his wet coat by the door, stepping out of his shoes. His cheeks are rosy, blushed by the cold. The soft smile Eddie flashes him makes his chest cave, words caught like thorns in his throat, his already pink waterlines burn fresh.

Taking his silence for what it is, Eddie shuffles through to the living room where Steve is sitting hunched on the couch, and bends down to kiss the top of Steve’s head. His left hand comes up to brush through Steve’s tangled hair, stringy and unwashed. “How long have you been out here, baby?” Eddie asks softly. “Look like a leaf that could fall any moment.”

Steve takes a shaky breath. “Robin called.”

“Oh?” Eddie takes a seat in the armchair diagonal to the couch, mismatched blues they are. “After her voicemail the other day? Or were you listening to it back?”

“No, after. It’s just…we had nothing to talk about.”

“Nothing? You guys have all this time apart, how is there nothing to talk about?”

Shrugging, Steve mumbles, “Don’t know.” He runs a tired hand over his face, through his hair, messing with the knots at the end of it. Can’t even bring himself to look Eddie in the eyes. “Chatted about her school. Her new roommate. The foreign language club she’s got. And then we got to talking about me and…and I had nothing to say. I’m in between jobs, I clean all day because I can’t just lay around and do nothing, I can’t sleep at night…told her about how our neighbors argue. Then, well, then I just talked about you.”

Eddie hums. “It’s okay, you know,” he murmurs, “if you guys can’t find stuff to talk about? That’s okay.”

“Is it? I just”—he sighs—“she’s been my best friend for years. We’ve got nothing to talk about. Like we’re just acquaintances on the bus or something. It’s dumb. It’s so stupid.”

“Honey…” Eddie coos. “Steve, what’s stupid about that? There’s nothing dumb about having a stilted conversation every once in a while.”

“It’s not just once in a while, though, Eds!” he snaps. Affronted with himself, Steve curls tighter, shoulders up to his ears. “Every time, now. When I wanna talk to her, there’s nothing. My life is so…so dull and dumb and…I feel so small compared to her now. Which isn’t fair of me to say, because she’s out there following her dreams…And…” He trails off with another shrug.

Once the room goes completely quiet, Steve pushes himself back, deep into the backrest of the couch. He puts his face in his left hand, pointed away from Eddie, and looks off. Nowhere in particular. No more words to dredge up.

“Steve?”

“I think I’m gonna write a letter. Maybe…maybe the phone’s too easy to forget.”

——— Robbie,

New thing. Letters. It’ll be easier, yeah? Just put what I wanna say out to you.

So. No new calls coming for me about my applications. Think a bunch of firings on my resume has employers turning away. Can’t even use my mom as a reference anymore, kinda lost on that end, I guess. Reached out to Hopper, though. Maybe getting a cop’s reference will look good? They’ll see me come in with Jim Hopper’s signature and number and they’ll think, “That kid must be a goody two shoes,” or something like that, and they’ll want to hire me. You think it’ll work? You know better than I do.

Watched The Apartment finally. It’s a good movie. You know, Fran kinda looks like Vickie. I found you out, Robs. You’ve got a big secret lesbian thing for redheads. Who would’ve thought? Does your current girlfriend look like Fran? I’ve been dying to meet her. I feel bad, I can’t even remember her name right now. I hope she treats you good.

Eddie treats me good. Made spaghetti last night for me, meatballs and everything. He burnt the hell out of the corn I bought, though. Ended up with just spaghetti, some beer, and a couple pieces of garlic bread. I’ll make a chef out of him one day. Though, gotta admit, I feel bad somedays. He goes out and works all day, brings home most of the money, and then also cooks sometimes. I try and keep up with him. Do some chores or something. You know, so I don’t look like a bad partner.

Anyway. There isn’t much else to say, really. Just hope you get this. Maybe you’ll take the time to answer?

Your cursive is the only cursive I can read, so. If you do write back, make it pretty for me? I like the way your letters curl.

—Steve

——— There’s been no new mail in weeks. Other than the bills and Eddie’s paychecks. He got one call from the manager of some local, newly built steak restaurant. Got the job as a new waiter, so that’ll be thrilling for him. More customer service.

He gathers the mail that comes in their little mailbox, runs back up the stairs to their apartment, and snuggles next to Eddie on the couch. An arm thrown over his shoulders. Hands passing through envelopes like he can manifest a returning letter.

“Damnit,” he eventually mutters, tossing the envelopes onto the coffee table. Steve leans back, nestled deeper into Eddie’s side, and pouts. “There’s nothing, Eds. What the hell.”

“Give her some time,” Eddie gently says—ever the reasonable one, oddly—“she’s probably still settling into her new semester. Almost a college graduate, babe, not a lot of time on her hands.”

“She could call, you know. Now she’s gonna respond and I’m gonna be too busy with work. This is bullshit.”

Eddie sighs next to him. Heavy and tired. “You’ll find the time, Steve. You always do.”

——— *BEEP*

“I got your letter, Stevie. Listen, I’ve gotta make this call quick, but I just need you to listen. I can’t write back, I’m sorry. My mind’s already scrambled with a million essays and other assignments right now, so letters aren’t really a priority for me. But I’ll call, okay? I missed you this time, but we’ll get it right eventually. I know it. Uhh…yeah. Oh! Yes, my current girlfriend, Rita, she definitely looks like Fran. You got me, dingus, I’ve got a thing for redheads. Anyway. Shoot. Sorry, I gotta go. Rita’s taking me to this new queer place in town. Gonna get drinks! It’ll be awesome. Okay, Stevie, bye. I love you, bye.”

*BEEP*

“Steve…Steeeeveee…I am very drunk right now. And sweaty. So much dancing. *hiccup* Just wanna tell you that you’re a good friend, m’kay? Rita…ooo, Rita ordered nachos. This payphone is crazy sticky. Bye, dingus!”

——— *BEEP*

“I hope you got home safe. Thanks for not answering. [silence] I can’t have you calling in the middle of the night anymore, though. Okay? I love you to pieces, Robs, but seriously. Eds and I were sleeping, we have work today. [disgruntled silence] And if you’ve got homework or whatever, then you should probably stay back at your dorm and do it, right? Instead of getting shitfaced at the bar? I—[*a large sigh*]—Eddie’s trying to tell me I shouldn’t be mad at you. That I should just give you time to reach back. But.

"This is just getting…it’s bullshit, okay? I call you and you don’t answer. You call me, I try to get back within the next day. And that’s what I did the last time you called me. And then…what? I start writing you letters, but you’re too piled up with homework to respond? Oh, but you’re not too busy to get shitfaced on a…Wednesday? A Wednesday, Robin. Wednesday? I know you’ve got class today, should you really be out…Never mind. I’m not your parents. I’m not. I’m just your good friend, Steve. Your good friend from back home who you don’t visit when you’re on break because you don’t have enough time. [silence] Promise me you’ll take some Advil and have a few glasses of water? I’d bring you a bagel or something, but…just take care of yourself, Robin. Please just take care of yourself. I have to go to work. Maybe I’ll get some big tips from boyfriends on late Valentine’s Day dates. Send you flowers or some shit. I love you, Robin. Even when you piss me the fuck off, I love you…Bye, Robs.”

——— “You don’t answer either, Steve.”

“Well good evening to you, too, Rob”—

“Don’t be a bitch. Just because I found the time to go out with my girlfriend doesn’t mean I’m fucking ignoring you like you’re…you’re my spoiled little dog.”

Steve tosses a glance over his shoulder, standing with his back to the front door just as Eddie comes through it. He shields himself, shadowing over the phone with his head lowered. “Robbie, can I call you back, please? I’m about to have dinner with”—

“Oh, so you can have dinner with Eddie? But I can’t have drinks with Rita? Fuck off, Steve. You know that’s a bunch of horseshit, right? I’m supposed to make time for you, but you can’t make time for me when I call”—

“Oh, when you finally call me back—what is it—three days later? Sorry, Robin. Guess I have some double standards that I didn’t know about! Guilty as charged!”

Over the line, he can hear her take a steady, deep breath. He imagines it, her face red with anger, and feels a sick lick of satisfaction deep in his gut. “Don’t be such a little fucking brat, Steve.”

He rolls his eyes so hard it hurts. “Like insulting me is gonna keep me on the phone with you. I’ve got chicken that’s thawed in the fridge right now and it needs to be made tonight. So if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna make dinner for my boyfriend and I”—

Suddenly, there’s a hand on his shoulder. He jerks in surprise, turning swiftly with the phone in his tight grip. Eddie’s behind him, furrowed eyebrows and eyes narrowed in concern. Steve throws up his free hand as if to signal, ‘What.’ Instead of a huff or an eye roll, Eddie’s soft with him. Petting his hand down his back. “I’ll make dinner,” Eddie whispers, “I want you to figure this out with Robin.”

Steve muffles the phone with his empty hand, pulling it away from his mouth. “She’s being an asshole, Eds. I don’t want to”—

“Baby, I don’t want you guys to lose each other. You two matter to one another. Figure it out…even if you have to argue, figure it out.”

With a pat to his back, Eddie steps away. Steve sighs, relenting—knowing Eddie’s reasonable and right, damnit—and brings the phone back up to his ear. “You still there, Robin?”

“Yup.”

“Listen…Robs…I-I don’t know what to say to make this better, okay? I’m gonna be honest. I don’t know what to do.” He shifts awkwardly on his feet. Eventually, though, within a matter of seconds, he decides to plop down onto the closest couch cushion. Hunched over his knees, pinching between his eyebrows. “I miss your calls, I know that. And I’m sorry, okay? Shit, I’m…I’m really fucking sorry”—his voice wavers, eyes burning despite trying to pinch the waterworks closed—“there’s no excuse. I’m not in college. I’m not, like, busy with my family or anything. I just. I’m just Steve. With his stupid minimum wage job. And I’m really fucking boring now, okay? I get busy with my shifts and I forget to answer. I try to get caught up in Eddie, trying to—shit, you can’t let him know this, okay? I’m gonna drop my voice”—and he does just that—“I get caught up trying to distract myself from…from myself. That doesn’t make sense, I know it doesn’t. And it’s not an excuse. Sometimes, Rob, sometimes”—and here come the blubbering tears…—“I just stand at the phone and wait for you to call me. Then you don’t. All I do is…all I do is work and sleep and wait.

“I miss you so fucking much, Robin. You…it’s so fucking pathetic…you’re my only, like, adult friend other than Eddie. But he’s in his own category, y’know? So. It’s just. Shit. I don’t know what I’m trying to say, Robs. I just miss you. I wait and I miss you.”

For a moment, there’s a steady stream of stilted silence. Then, quiet, Robin breaks with, “I miss you, too. But…Steve, I can’t be your only friend. And…and you’re not my only friend anymore. I know I’ve been shitty with answering the phone, responding to your letters. Things are busy. And I don’t have the time. And when I find time for myself, I’m sorry, but I don’t think of you first anymore. You have to…you have to understand that, Steve.

“Believe me, I try to reach out to you. When I have the time, when I…when I remember, I call you. You aren’t the first person that comes to mind anymore, okay? I have to be honest with you, too. I’m sorry. I can’t say that enough and I also think I’ve said it too much.

“But I’m about to graduate. Rita and I…we’re moving in together once I get my diploma”—

“Will you send me your new address? If you remember?” God, he can’t believe he just said that. He can’t believe he’s been…forgotten. “Maybe I can send you some congratulatory flowers or something?”

She takes a deep breath. Noticeably settling into something.

He sorta hates that he can picture her, shimmying into her spot. Getting comfy. Can imagine her in her dinky pajamas, the same ones she’s had since freshman year of high school. Thinks of her with her makeup freshly washed off, hair neatly brushed, relaxing in her bed. Wonders if she’s reading anything.

But he won’t ask. It doesn’t feel like that kind of conversation.

“I’ll give it to you before I graduate, okay? We’re gonna settle on an apartment before I’m done here. Um…yeah. Yeah…

“I’m sorry for being an asshole, you didn’t deserve that.”

“I’m sorry, too. You didn’t deserve it either. Just, y’know me, I get in my head.”

“Yeah,” she sighs. And it hurts, only a little—like a minor burn from the edge of a frying pan—that she didn’t reassure him. “I know I called, but I’ve gotta go. I have a test in the morning. And I’m ready for bed, so…yeah.”

“Okay…yeah…that’s—I’ve gotta help Eddie with dinner so”—

“What are we gonna do?”

“Hm?”

“…What are we gonna do? I don’t know when I’ll be able to call again. And I know you’re getting busier. I won’t have a break until, maybe, June? I don’t wanna leave you like this…but I can’t promise anything this time and”—

“I don’t know,” Steve softly interrupts. “We’ll figure it out, though, okay?”

There’s a long lull of silence. Longer than any he’s experienced with Robin. Softly, “Okay,” she says. Though, it doesn’t quite reach his ears the right way. It’s not a hopeful sound. It’s…tired and broken and weepy.

He knows that, after this, they won’t hear from each other anymore.

It’s a claw to the chest. A knife in the gut.

If he removes it, he’ll die. If he lets it linger, he’ll die. The way the word breaks in his head, her soft okay in his ear, he’d rather the knife remain. The pain, the blood, the simmering ache.

“Robin?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

A murmur, “I love you, too.”

The phone crackles between them. Those are the last words he hears before the line goes dead. ��Bye,” he whispers into the plastic, to nobody on the other side. And with the receiver gripped tight in both hands, nestled between his legs, he lets the burn behind his eyes engulf.

Tears sluggishly worm down his cheeks. Hot and burning.

“Steve?” Eddie softly calls to him. “You okay?”

When he looks in the direction of his name, Eddie is sitting next to him. A hand between his shoulder blades, the other reaching for the phone. Without much thought, Steve is turning into Eddie’s chest, dropping his grip on the receiver.

In one sweeping motion, Eddie brings him in, burying him closer. “I gotcha, baby,” he whispers into Steve’s hair, “I’ve gotcha.”

“I lost her,” he sobs, “lost my best friend.”

With Robin’s words floating through his head, the soft crackle of her raspy voice, that image of her comfy in bed, he breaks. Coughing, gagging, and crying, he breaks against Eddie’s neck.

——— November, 1985

“Steve? Do you think we’re best friends in every universe?”

“Hm…if we aren’t, I’m glad we’re best friends in this one.”

They’re holding hands, sprawled on his mattress, both sweat drenched from Scoops nightmares.

“Me too,” Robin whispers, “I love being your friend.”

“I love being yours,” he matches, “we’ve got each other for life now. No way to get rid of me.”

“Like we’re ever going to be apart.”

“Yeah,” Steve laughs. “No way is that happening. We’re stuck on each other like glue.”

☎️—————☎️

[rimouskis]

I know there's a lot of talk about how childfree people are more free to discuss their wants and lives and lifestyles but there is also a lot of talk from parents (specifically mothers) who feel abandoned by society and let down and as someone who is uninterested in kids yet feels deeply for and wants to improve the material conditions of parents in this country..................... it still feels stupidly and frustratingly selfish and hard to watch a friendship deteriorate because of someone's journey into parenthood and the only societally-acceptable message I'm allowed to take from and communicate about it is "it's so hard for parents and we need to give them grace"

[sleepingfancies]

Sorry for being insane its just that hangout planning fell through for the 500th time and im trying to be so cool and normal about it and not start sledgehammering walls

[confessiononadancefloor]

rant <3

[todayisafridaynight]

Wanna put your friend in a lil terrarium just to see what wacky things she does stg 😂

i actually Cannot Stress the migraine she gives me every time we hang out. like without fail she'll always say or do something that ranges from mildly questionable or irritating but relatively Whatever to How Have You Survived This Long Without Burning Your House Down Boiling An Egg

[ostwitchsheart]

Sorry to start complaining but its my tumblr

[thepinkseashell]

I LOVE LESBIANISM THE BIKE SHOP BUTCH AND I HUNG OUT FOR LIKE 5 HOURS HAPPY PRIDE MONTH TO MEEEEEEEE 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

[ropes3amthoughts]

Me: I have to impress oomf because how will she know I actually care about her if I don’t say happy birthday at exactly 12am or remember her favorite color or watch every single episode of that show she likes or read five analyes of the book she likes so I can really understand it and talk about it with her or-

Me after oomf does the bare minimum of looking up from what she was doing to listen to me and remembers something I said five minutes ago: Omg she cares so much she’s literally the sweetest this is the best friend I’ve ever had

[idk-i-want-mcl-content]

lalisa can u teach me japanese i said hai hai

[vraska-theunseen]

my back hurts i need to learn how to wrestle expeditiously

[snekdood]

honestly im pretty bad abot messaging ppl back or to hang out but tbh thats kinda bc my one previous friend was always busy whenever i'd ask or out of town etc. so i just kinda. left it up to her to message me since idk her schedule.

[femonologue]

Many years ago, I was wandering around downtown Ottawa with my best friend. We ran into a friend of his who offered us some hash (it sucked), then said there was a really good house party nearby if we wanted to go. We were like, yeah, sure. So that's how we ended up at some completely fucking random person's house.

I look around to ask if my friend knows anyone here and he's simply gone, as is his friend. And this isn't some red solo cup hangout; this is a party. There's people counting out pills on the kitchen counter. I am clearly neither as cool nor as drug-savvy as the kitchen people, so I back away and instead wander aimlessly into the living room, which seems to give off more of a chill vibe.

A bunch of people are seated in a circle on the floor. One of them is fiddling with a big wad of newspaper or something. A really cute grunge girl with piercings and tattoos scoots aside to make room for me, so I sit down.

"What's that," I ask her, gesturing at the newspaper wad.

She gets a really big smile on her face. You know the smile. It's the I'm About To Watch This Innocent Soul Get High As Fuck smile. "You've never smoked a tulip?"

"What's a tulip?" I ask.

"It's like if a joint was also a bong," she replies. "You gotta try it."

"Alright," I reply, a little uncertainly. This will not be my first encounter with weed. I am more comfortable with the janky newspaper bong than I am with whatever the fuck is going on in the kitchen. Besides, this girl is really cute and I would like to have a friend here now that my existing friend has turned into vapor or been transported to the Upside-Down or whatever the hell happened to him.

I watch as one person holds the newspaper joint-bong upright and holds a lighter over the top while another gets beneath it, tilting their head back to take a puff. Apparently smoking this Cheech & Chong monstrosity is a two-person job.

"Oh," I say, looking at the fist-sized knob at the top of the wonky newspaper joint. "Yeah, it does kinda look like a tulip." Grunge girl smiles at me.

I watch as the tulip is passed around the circle, along with the lighter, and hits are cooperatively taken. It reaches grunge girl, who takes a huge puff and holds it for an extended moment before exhaling an impressive blast of smoke. She smiles expectantly and holds the tulip up for me, preparing to spark the gigantic meteor of dank that makes up its tip. By this point I have completely forgotten about my missing friend. I only care about making a good impression on grunge girl. I tilt my head back and hit the tulip like a smokestack.

It is the following morning. I am sleeping between a couch and a wall. I'm not positive that this is the same house I was just in. My memories are gone. Someone is yelling at me: "dude! Dude! Wake up, dude!"

I sit up. My mouth tastes like cigarettes. I do not smoke cigarettes. "Wha," I ask the yelling man, who I am quite confident I have never met before in my life.

"We're going on a quest," he tells me, gravely. "You have to come with us."

I look around. Neither my friend nor his friend are anywhere in sight. I also do not see grunge girl anywhere. I shrug helplessly. "Okay."

We embark from this house. I learn that the destination of this quest is Tim Horton's. This is a relief to me, as coffee and a donut sounds really fucking good right now. Somehow, the route to Tim Horton's takes us past the Governor-General's residence, which everyone else in the group loudly heckles on the way past. I do not know what the Governor-General has done to raise their ire, nor do I particularly care. I trudge along with my hands in my pockets, pleased to note that I still have my wallet, phone, and keys. I fervently wish that I could remember anything about last night. Maybe I talked to grunge girl. Maybe she's why my mouth tastes like cigarettes. The tulip tasted nothing like cigarettes.

I am asked about my politics. I voice my frustrations with corporate corruption, the pay-to-win electoral system, the lack of transparency and accountability. This is met with great approval. The guy who was yelling at me claps me on the back. I get the impression that we became friends last night. I don't recognize his face. I do not know his name and he definitely does not know mine. I behave as though we're friends anyway. We are comrades on a quest.

By the time we make it to Tim Hortons, the gaggle of stoners I'm walking with have all run out of energy and/or attention span. People order snacks and break away in pairs or solo, to call for rides or plan the day's events or just vegetate and wait for the drugs to leave their systems. I look around and find that my nameless friend has also gone to the Upside-Down. As I wash the cigarette taste out of my mouth with coffee, I unsuccessfully try to remember whether I saw grunge girl smoking tobacco at any point. I remember nothing. That tulip was so fucking powerful that it instantly sent me a whole day forward in time.

Alone in the city, I try to call my best friend and get no answer. I walk to the nearest bus stop, catch a bus most of the way home, and call up my parents to ask for a ride back. They ask where my friend is. I tell them that I have no idea; we went to a house party and I don't remember anything else.

When they pick me up from the bus station, they ask me some very safe, nonspecific questions, and seem to relax when I describe what little I can remember. It isn't until years later that I realize they were probably terrified I'd gotten rufied or something, and were so relieved to learn otherwise that they didn't even bother chiding me for smoking myself unconscious in an effort to impress a strange woman. In any case, they were probably happy to find out that I did, in fact, like girls; I suspect they had been privately wondering whether I was gay.

After getting home, I finally manage to get my best friend to answer his phone. I discover that he tried the kitchen pills, spent most of the night crossing the entire city on foot, and crashed at his cousin's house. He sounds like shit. I tell him that he should have tried the tulip, instead. He fervently agrees with me.

I never see grunge girl again.

That's okay, though. She got to see a clueless stranger get fucked the entire way up on some ungodly strain of giga-weed, and I got smiled at by a cute girl, and then I got to go on a quest. Wherever grunge girl is, I hope she's happy. I hope she's smoking the fattest fucking blunt and smiling as some kid passes out behind a couch.

[allurilove]

Calm Yandere x you

“Your expressionless boyfriend.”

Rated 18 + — mature short content!

Includes: calm yandere x talkative gender neutral reader, mutual pining?, strangers to friends to lovers, cute fluff in the beginning… other stuff later on. wink wink. ♡

Calm yandere was known to be a little cold. His default face is an unamused one, the ends of his lips always downward, and it certainly scared you away from him when you first saw him. He didn’t like to socialize as much as you did, and when you talked to him, he only seemed to nod. “Mhm,” and “uh-huh,” was all you could get from him. He didn’t hate nor dislike you— you’re an absolute perfect specimen, and a normal, and adaptable human being. You were everything he wanted to be. You were everything he wanted, period. He started to form a crush on you, and it was a minuscule one at first. He appreciated how you were able to carry a conversation, how bright and confident you looked compared to him, and you were this bright light in his grim dark reality.

Calm yandere was surprised when you made the first move. You wanted to be friends, and being just friends with you felt like torture. Although, he agreed—not wanting to miss the opportunity to be by your side even more. He followed you around, agreed to show up to all hangouts you planned, and he even invited you to his house. His house was surprisingly warm. He had soft white curtains, light pink decorations here and there, and it smelled like freshly baked cookies. Warm and sweet was what you would describe him now that you got to know him. He was the perfect host. He was showing you around the backyard, and he pointed out a couple of butterflies that liked to come by. His voice was flat and monotonous when he explained his favorite butterflies to you, but you could see a slight glimmer of happiness in his eyes. And most importantly, he showed you his bedroom. He had manga books on his shelves, Smiski figurines, and one of the compartments was just filled with snacks. He had an old dog named “Mini” that was sleeping on his huge bed, loudly snoring, and kicking her feet as she dreamt of running around.

Calm yandere had asked you to be his partner months later. You were shocked when he confessed his feelings for you, and here calm yandere was, thinking that he had done a good job of hinting at it. You did notice the glances he would send your way, and how they would linger a bit longer than before. You then started to think back to the times he would do things for you. He would bend down and tie your shoelaces. He gave you his jacket when it was raining, and he would walk home soaking wet. He carried you on his back when you tripped and hurt your ankle. He let you into his house when you fought with your parents, and tried his damn hardest to crack a worried expression on his stone-like face. It wasn’t like you weren’t into him, you tried to give him signals too.

Calm yandere was oblivious, just as you were oblivious. You had literally invited him to every place you could think of. You made pottery with him, and even put your hands on his to help him shape his clay into a vase. That was a very intimate act. An act that made you flustered and blushing when you had pressed your body behind his. Him, on the other hand, didn’t even blink at the action. When you had told him that you found him cute and adorable, he just said “okay.” OKAY?? Clearly that meant he didn’t like you back, and you quickly put on a strained smile and went on with your day.

Calm yandere was an active listener, not really a replier, but a listener. He might look like he was disinterested, but any subject you brought up was the most interesting, and fascinating, topic of all time. You would talk his ear off, and you liked to speak your mind. “So, as I was saying…” you continued. He nodded along, his cheek resting on his hand, and he leaned even closer to play with the strands of your hair. He liked feeling and touching you. It reminded him that you were real, that you were in front of him, and you were officially his. Your lips were perfect, always moving and speaking, and it would form the world’s most beautiful smile. He could tell that some days you didn’t want to hear any solutions from him, and only wanted to have someone to talk too. So, he does exactly what you want.

Calm yandere was happy to advance the relationship even further! He would show finally show some PDA. An arm would casually be slung around your shoulders while you two walked. Whenever you sat next to him, and he didn’t like the distance between you two, he would grab onto the leg of the chair and pulled it in closer. He then would kiss your cheek, and as fast as it came, he had pulled back before you could reciprocate. He knew that being a boyfriend meant that he had to do some certain things… He was feeling bold when he saw you wearing shorts, and without really thinking, his hand reached out to touch at your thighs.

Calm yandere was taken aback by the overwhelming positive reaction. He didn’t imagine that a single brush from his finger tips would cause your brain to go haywire. You had pushed him onto the couch, and he fell back with a little grunt. He saw that you had climbed onto his lap, straddling his hips, and had placed his hand on a sensitive spot of your body. He felt up the flesh, and his fingers slipped underneath your shorts. He kept a watchful eye on your facial expressions, and he hummed in delight when you spread your thighs even further for him. He rubbed his fingers up and down the length of your privates, and he started to collect some of the wet substance that had leaked out. He heard you breathe out his name, and when your voice soon became whiny and you had pleaded for more, he knew you had to be close.

Calm yandere had you on your back. He pulled your shorts down your legs, flinging them to the side after he revealed your lower half to him. He leaned down to greet your sex with his tongue. You were loud and talkative in bed, just as you were out of it. Your back arched, and your hands painfully gripped at his hair. Your body started to tremble, almost trying to squirm its way out from underneath him. His hands had to keep your legs from closing on him, “don’t try to keep me away from you.” your boyfriend said firmly. He then gestured to the growing tent in his pants, “this is all your fault. I’ll make you feel good if you can do the same for me.”

Calm yandere liked to lick his fingers in front of you. His tongue swiping at the salty cum before he fully puts his digits inside his mouth. He could feel the wrinkles and ridges of his pruned fingers, and he gleefully sucked off the excess cum and saliva that had gathered on there. You were lying on the couch with a bit of a daze, your chest rising and falling, and you could still feel his eyes wandering on the work he had done. You had love bites on your neck, trailing down to your inner thighs, and lower towards your ankles. He had bit you down there to keep his voice down while he had himself buried deep inside of you. What could he say? You knew how to press his buttons and drive him wild.

Allure: this is calm yandere after you had called him cute.

Allure: A little update: I’ll work on the master list soon after this, and I’ll have to update a couple of lists such as the yandere kink ones… so that should be done next!

[allofuswantgwinam]

i love being the audience to my moms Ted talks everyday and getting to speak 10% of the time

[imafoolishfragilespine]

i'm just like ugh i gotta figure out where to get this x ray and when i should do it this week and i'm just worried about walking in without an appointment even though it says you can and like them not having the machine or a person to do it or whatever since i went into one place on the list already and they did not have x-rays

and then i've got this birthday thing which idk where it's going to be so idk if i should take a lyft or not and then i'll have to either exercise in the morning or choose that as my skip day

and then i'll just be worrying about my test results and not knowing if the doctor is going to call before my follow up or WHAT is going to happen and i just. cannot relax.

i just want to be done with doctors i really fucking do like just tell me what's wrong and let me be DONE like this follow up is gonna be the eighth fucking time i've seen a doctor in some form since all this weird shit started and if i don't get any answers i'm gonna be mad. i mean i'd rather not get bad news of course but i figure things are already mildly crappy in my body so like it's not like i can't get used to that i just can't stand the idea of it getting worse