#jason carver
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oopsiedaisiesbaby ยท 1 day ago
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On my modern day Harringrove and Munver bull shit because I have today off and Iโ€™m stuck inside ๐Ÿ˜ˆ Encouraged by @intothedysphoria so Iโ€™m making these rambling thoughts official LFL lore just for you ๐Ÿ˜˜
Flash forward several years. Steve is retired from OF, Billy does research at NASA, Jason is an aquatic veterinarian with a specialty in sharks, and Eddie is still making music (touring a smidge less but not much). Steve and Billy, in a move that shocks absolutely no one, end up having six kids. Jason and Eddie shock everyone, except Steve, Billy, and Chrissy, and also have six kids and Jason is trying to convince Eddie they need seven to โ€œwinโ€ but thatโ€™s a story for another time.
They are neighbors in Hidden Hills and it goes exactly how you think it would.
Steve is the PTA president and he only went for the position because some catty bitch (original pres) tried to use his OF career to get him kicked off the PTA and shunned when he first joins. Said catty bitch also has a son in the same kindergarten class as one of their daughters and he made fun of her for having pigtails because theyโ€™re โ€œfor babies.โ€ So Steve declares war. Catty bitch has a famous cookie recipe they enter into the bake sale each year and Steve specifically makes a new rule that you canโ€™t enter the same recipe twice just to fuck with them. He and Jason come up with increasingly petty ways to mess with the judgemental parents and it brings them absolute joy.
Jason becomes the HOA president because he was appalled by the lack of coordination in Christmas decorations in their neighborhood the first Christmas there. One of their neighbors has a MAGA sticker on the back of his truck so Jason and Steve gather intel and find out the dudeโ€™s homophobic, racist, and generally gross. Heโ€™s never messed with Jason directly, but Jason takes it personally and sets out to ruin this manโ€™s entire gig. Heโ€™s measuring this guyโ€™s grass every day, changing HOA rules specifically to target this manโ€™s house and belongings, fining him left and right, and just being an absolute menace. Eddie gets a little worried the guy might retaliate but Jason is secure in his knowledge that the man is petrified of him.
I think they would bully Billy into coaching a little league basketball team and Eddie into teaching a music class and then absolutely badger them for gossip. By that point, Billy and Eddie have not only resigned themselves to it they get genuinely excited to tell them about what theyโ€™ve learned from the other parents. They still donโ€™t like to watch true crime with them though lol
Might come back and add more to this later, this was fun โค๏ธ
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darcylightninglewis ยท 9 months ago
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I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby, like y o u (insp x, x)
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shieldofiron ยท 2 months ago
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If stranger things cared about continuity with new characters they would have made Jason Carver the Mayorโ€™s son.
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rogueddie ยท 6 months ago
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I think the similarity between Eddie and Jason are so fascinating and I hate that they're underexplored by a lot of the fandom. It's so clear in how they both treat Lucas.
Both Eddie and Jason believe they're offering Lucas a space to be safe and happy. That with them, specifically, he will find the place that he belongs. That they're the good guys who treat Lucas right.
Eddie seemingly did not know that Lucas actually cared about basketball enough to miss Hellfire. Maybe Lucas downplayed it so Eddie didn't see him as a 'traitor'.
Jason clearly did not know that Lucas was involved, or even so much as knew, about Hellfire. Lucas probably lied about where he was during campaigns or about Dustin and Mike so that Jason wouldn't see him as a 'traitor'.
When Eddie does find out how invested Lucas is in basketball, enough to prioritize it over Hellfire, he asks if Lucas has been "taken in by the darkside".
His club and the safety he may offer is conditional, exclusive, and going against what he personally likes is a personal betrayal.
When Jason finds out that Lucas is involved in Hellfire, albiet in very different circumstances, he has the same reaction. Even his reaction to Erica, Lucas' little sister, being involved in Hellfire is... suspicious.
It definitely makes it feel like any safety Jason and the team offer is conditional, exclusive, and involvement with the 'freaks' is a personal betrayal.
They aren't opposites at all. They're the same character. The only difference is the dressing.
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darnell-la ยท 8 months ago
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๐‘ซ๐‘จ๐‘น๐‘ต๐‘ฌ๐‘ณ๐‘ณ-๐‘ณ๐‘จ'๐‘บ ๐‘ด๐‘จ๐‘บ๐‘ป๐‘ฌ๐‘น ๐‘ณ๐‘ฐ๐‘บ๐‘ป
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โ˜Ÿ
๐—”๐—ป ๐—ถ๐—ฑ๐—ฒ๐—ฎ ๐—ผ๐—ณ ๐˜„๐—ต๐—ผ ๐˜„๐—ฒ ๐˜„๐—ฟ๐—ถ๐˜๐—ฒ ๐—ฎ๐—ฏ๐—ผ๐˜‚๐˜:
๐š‚๐šƒ๐š๐™ฐ๐™ฝ๐™ถ๐™ด๐š ๐šƒ๐™ท๐™ธ๐™ฝ๐™ถ๐š‚
๐™ผ๐™ฐ๐š๐š…๐™ด๐™ป
๐™พ๐š„๐šƒ๐™ด๐š ๐™ฑ๐™ฐ๐™ฝ๐™บ๐š‚
๐š‚๐™ฐ๐™ผ ๐™ฐ๐™ฝ๐™ณ ๐™ฒ๐™พ๐™ป๐™ฑ๐šˆ
๐—”๐—ป ๐—ถ๐—ฑ๐—ฒ๐—ฎ ๐—ผ๐—ณ ๐˜„๐—ต๐—ฎ๐˜ ๐˜„๐—ฒ ๐˜„๐—ฟ๐—ถ๐˜๐—ฒ ๐—ฎ๐—ฏ๐—ผ๐˜‚๐˜:
๐™ป๐™ถ๐™ฑ๐šƒ๐š€+
๐™ฟ๐™พ๐™ฒ ๐š›๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š›
๐™ป๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ
๐™ต๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐šœ ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š—๐š’๐š๐š’๐š๐šœ
๐™ฒ๐š‘๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐š’๐š—๐š
๐™พ๐š‹๐šœ๐šŽ๐šœ๐šœ๐š’๐š˜๐š–
๐š‚๐šž๐š‹ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐™ณ๐š˜๐š–
๐™ฟ๐š•๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐šข ๐š˜๐š ๐š”๐š’๐š—๐š”๐šœ
๐š๐š˜๐šก๐š’๐šŒ๐š’๐š๐šข
๐šŠ๐š‹๐šž๐šœ๐šŽ
๐š‚๐™ฐ
๐šŽ๐š๐šŒ...
โœ๏ธŽ๏ธŽ
๐Œ๐€๐‘๐•๐„๐‹ ๐‚๐‡๐€๐‘๐€๐‚๐“๐„๐‘๐’:
๐—๐—”๐— ๐—˜๐—ฆ "๐—Ÿ๐—ข๐—š๐—”๐—ก" ๐—›๐—ข๐—ช๐—Ÿ๐—˜๐—ง๐—ง (๐—ง๐—›๐—˜ ๐—ช๐—ข๐—Ÿ๐—ฉ๐—˜๐—ฅ๐—œ๐—ก๐—˜)
แดœแด˜แด…แด€แด›ษชษดษข sแดแดษด...
๐—ช๐—”๐——๐—˜ ๐—ช๐—œ๐—Ÿ๐—ฆ๐—ข๐—ก (๐——๐—˜๐—”๐——๐—ฃ๐—ข๐—ข๐—Ÿ)
แดœแด˜แด…แด€แด›ษชษดษข sแดแดษด...
๐’๐“๐‘๐€๐๐†๐„๐‘ ๐“๐‡๐ˆ๐๐†๐’ ๐‚๐‡๐€๐‘๐€๐‚๐“๐„๐‘๐’:
๐—•๐—œ๐—Ÿ๐—Ÿ๐—ฌ ๐—›๐—”๐—ฅ๐—š๐—ฅ๐—ข๐—ฉ๐—˜
๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐™ฑ๐š’๐š•๐š•๐šข ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š•๐š ๐šŠ๐šข๐šœ ๐š๐š˜๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š— ๐š ๐šŠ๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐šข ๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š, ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šœ๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐šข ๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š‘๐š˜๐š˜๐š”๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šž๐š™ ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š˜๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š–๐šŠ๐š—, ๐š‹๐š˜๐š’๐š•๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š’๐š› ๐š‹๐š•๐š˜๐š˜๐š. ๐šƒ๐š‘๐šŽ๐šข ๐š—๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š—๐š˜๐š  / โš ๏ธ
๐šˆ/๐š—'๐šœ ๐š–๐š˜๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐™ฑ๐š’๐š•๐š•๐šข ๐™ท๐šŠ๐š›๐š๐š›๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐šŠ๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐š•๐šŽ, ๐šŠ๐š—d ๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š›๐šข ๐š๐šŠ๐šข ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š’๐š› ๐šŠ๐š›๐š๐šž๐š–๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐šœ ๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š ๐š˜๐š›๐šœ๐šŽ. ๐™ฑ๐š’๐š•๐š•๐šข ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š•๐š ๐šŠ๐šข๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š ๐šข/๐š— ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š—๐š๐šœ ๐š˜๐šž๐š ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐š‚๐š๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ, ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š— ๐šœ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š— ๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐šข ๐š‘๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐š‘๐š’๐š–. ๐™ท๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐šŠ๐š”๐šŽ ๐šŠ ๐šŒ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š—๐šŒ๐šŽ... / โš ๏ธ
๐™ฑ๐š’๐š•๐š•๐šข ๐š•๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ๐šœ ๐šข/๐š—, ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š–๐šŠ๐š— ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š’๐šœ ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐šŠ ๐š๐š’๐š›๐š• ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐š˜๐šŽ๐šœ๐š—'๐š ๐š๐š’๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š˜๐šž๐š, ๐š’๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š›๐š. ๐™ท๐šŽ'๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐šŽ๐š—๐š˜๐šž๐š๐š‘ ๐š˜๐š—๐šŽ ๐š—๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šœ๐š—๐šž๐šŒ๐š” ๐š’๐š— ๐š๐š˜ ๐šœ๐š‘๐š˜๐š  ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š‘๐š˜๐š  ๐š–๐šž๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š—๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›
๐šˆ/๐š— ๐š’๐šœ ๐šŠ ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š›๐šข ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐š๐šž๐šœ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š’๐š›๐š•, ๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐š–๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š˜๐šก๐š’๐šŒ. ๐™ท๐šŽ๐š› ๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š—๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š•๐š ๐šŠ๐šข๐šœ ๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š ๐š˜ ๐š™๐šŠ๐š›๐š๐š—๐šŽ๐š›๐šœ, ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š๐š’๐š–๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š‹๐šž๐šข, ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐šข'๐š•๐š• ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜ ๐š–๐šŠ๐š”๐šŽ ๐š’๐š ๐šŒ๐š•๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š› ๐š๐š˜ ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐šœ๐š‘๐š’๐š ๐šœ๐š๐š˜๐š™๐šœ ๐š—๐š˜๐š 
๐™ฑ๐š’๐š•๐š•๐šข'๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š•๐š ๐šŠ๐šข๐šœ ๐šŒ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šœ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šŠ๐š›๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜๐š ๐š— ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐šœ๐š’๐šœ๐š๐šŽ๐š›, ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐šข๐š๐š’๐š–๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š๐šŒ๐š‘๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›, ๐šœ๐š‘๐šŽ'๐šœ ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐šข/๐š—. ๐™ผ๐šŠ๐šข๐š‹๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š๐š’๐š–๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š’๐š๐š—'๐š ๐š›๐šž๐š— ๐šŠ๐š›๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜๐š ๐š— ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐™ผ๐šŠ๐šก๐š’๐š—๐šŽ. ๐™ท๐šŽ ๐š›๐šŠ๐š— ๐šŠ๐š›๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐šข/๐š— / โš ๏ธ
๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šŠ ๐š๐š’๐š›๐š๐šข ๐š–๐š’๐š—๐š, ๐šœ๐š˜ ๐š๐š’๐š›๐š๐šข ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐šข/๐š— ๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐š‘๐š›๐š˜๐šž๐š๐š‘ ๐šœ๐š˜ ๐š–๐šž๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐š๐š›๐š˜๐šž๐š‹๐š•๐šŽ ๐š“๐šž๐šœ๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐™ฑ๐š’๐š•๐š•๐šข'๐šœ ๐š‘๐š˜๐šž๐šœ๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ'๐šœ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š™๐š•๐šŠ๐š—๐š—๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐š ๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š”๐šœ / โš ๏ธ
๐™ฑ๐š’๐š•๐š•๐šข'๐šœ ๐š“๐šž๐šœ๐š ๐šœ๐š˜ ๐šœ๐š ๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š–๐šŠ๐š—๐š’๐š™๐šž๐š•๐šŠ๐š๐š’๐šŸ๐šŽ. ๐™ท๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š— ๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š› ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐š๐šœ ๐š๐š›๐š˜๐š– ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐šœ๐š ๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š’๐š—๐š—๐š˜๐šŒ๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š’๐š›๐š•๐š๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š—๐š. ๐™ด๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐šŸ๐š’๐š›๐š๐š’๐š—๐š’๐š๐šข
๐™ฑ๐š’๐š•๐š•๐šข ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐šœ ๐šœ๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š‚๐š๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐™ฝ๐šŠ๐š—๐šŒ๐šข ๐š๐š˜๐š๐šŽ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›. ๐™ธ๐š ๐š–๐šŠ๐š”๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š‘๐š’๐š– ๐šœ๐š’๐šŒ๐š” ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š›๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šข ๐š๐š˜ ๐š•๐šŽ๐š ๐š’๐š ๐š•๐š˜๐šœ๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š— ๐š‚๐š๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š›๐šข ๐š๐š’๐š–๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐šŽ๐š๐šœ ๐š‘๐š’๐š– ๐šŠ๐š•๐š˜๐š—๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐š˜๐šœ๐šŽ ๐š‘๐š˜๐šž๐šœ๐šŽ ๐š™๐šŠ๐š›๐š๐š’๐šŽ๐šœ / ๐Ÿณ๏ธโ€๐ŸŒˆ
๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š›๐šœ ๐™ฒ๐š˜๐š ๐š˜๐š›๐š”๐šŽ๐š›๐šœ, ๐š‚๐š๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜๐š›๐š‹๐š’๐š ๐šข/๐š— ๐š๐š›๐š˜๐š– ๐š๐š˜๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐šœ๐šŽ ๐š๐šŠ๐š—๐š๐šŠ๐šœ๐šข ๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐šž๐šœ๐šŽ ๐š’๐š "๐šŠ๐š๐š๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š๐šœ" ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š“๐š˜๐š‹. ๐šˆ/๐š— ๐š’๐š๐š—๐š˜๐š›๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š– ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐š๐š’๐š—๐šž๐šŽ๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐šข๐š ๐šŠ๐šข๐šœ. ๐™ฝ๐š˜๐š  ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐šข'๐š•๐š• ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐šž๐š—๐š™๐š›๐š˜๐š๐šŽ๐šœ๐šœ๐š’๐š˜๐š—๐šŠ๐š• / sแด‡ส€ษชแด‡s
๐™ฟ๐šŽ๐š›๐šŸ๐šข ๐š‹๐š˜๐šข๐š๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š—๐š!๐™ฑ๐š’๐š•๐š•๐šข ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š—'๐š ๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š๐š’๐š›๐š•๐š๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐šœ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šœ๐š ๐š๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐šœ ๐š ๐š˜๐š—๐š ๐šŠ๐š๐š–๐š’๐š ๐š‘๐š˜๐š  ๐š–๐šž๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐šข ๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›. ๐™ฑ๐š’๐š•๐š•๐šข ๐š™๐šž๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š– ๐š’๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ ๐šŠ ๐š™๐š˜๐šœ๐š’๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐šข ๐šŒ๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐š๐š—'๐š ๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐šข ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šœ๐šŠ๐šข "๐š—๐š˜" ๐š๐š˜๐š˜
๐™ฟ๐šŽ๐š›๐šŸ๐šข ๐š‹๐šž๐š•๐š•๐šข!๐™ฑ๐š’๐š•๐š•๐šข ๐š–๐šŠ๐š—๐š’๐š™๐šž๐š•๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š’๐š—๐š—๐š˜๐šŒ๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐šŸ๐š’๐š›๐š๐š’๐š—!๐š›๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š›
๐™ฑ๐š’๐š๐šŒ๐š‘๐šข!๐š›๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐š•๐šŽ๐š'๐šœ ๐™ฑ๐š’๐š•๐š•๐šข ๐š๐š˜๐šž๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š‘๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šœ๐š ๐š๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š—๐š, ๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ ๐™ผ๐šž๐š—๐šœ๐š˜๐š—'๐šœ ๐š‹๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š”. ๐š‚๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š ๐š’๐š•๐š• ๐š‹๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐š๐š›๐š˜๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š
๐š‚๐š๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐šŽ๐š—๐š˜๐šž๐š๐š‘ ๐š˜๐š ๐™ฑ๐š’๐š•๐š•๐šข'๐šœ ๐š‹๐šž๐š•๐š•๐šข๐š’๐š—๐š, ๐š“๐šž๐šœ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŽ'๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐šŽ๐š—๐š˜๐šž๐š๐š‘ ๐š˜๐š ๐š‚๐š๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ'๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š๐š๐š’๐š๐šž๐š๐šŽ / ๐Ÿณ๏ธโ€๐ŸŒˆ
๐™ฑ๐š’๐š•๐š•๐šข ๐™ท๐šŠ๐š›๐š๐š›๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐™ณ๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š›๐šŽ ๐™ผ๐š˜๐š—๐š๐š๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š›๐šข, ๐šŒ๐š›๐šž๐šœ๐š‘๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š˜๐š— ๐š—๐šŽ๐š ๐šœ ๐š›๐šŽ๐š™๐š˜๐š›๐š๐šŽ๐š›!๐š›๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š›
๐—˜๐——๐——๐—œ๐—˜ ๐— ๐—จ๐—ก๐—ฆ๐—ข๐—ก
๐™ถ๐š˜๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š’๐š— ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐šŠ ๐š™๐š›๐š˜๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐šŽ๐šก๐šŠ๐š– ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šŠ ๐š–๐šŠ๐š— ๐š’๐šœ ๐š๐š’๐š๐š๐š’๐šŒ๐šž๐š•๐š. ๐™ด๐šœ๐š™๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š’๐šŠ๐š•๐š•๐šข ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜๐šŒ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐™ท๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐š‚๐šŒ๐š‘๐š˜๐š˜๐š• ๐š‹๐šž๐š•๐š•๐šข
๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐™ฑ๐š’๐š•๐š•๐šข ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š•๐š ๐šŠ๐šข๐šœ ๐š๐š˜๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š— ๐š ๐šŠ๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐šข ๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š, ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šœ๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐šข ๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š‘๐š˜๐š˜๐š”๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šž๐š™ ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š˜๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š–๐šŠ๐š—, ๐š‹๐š˜๐š’๐š•๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š’๐š› ๐š‹๐š•๐š˜๐š˜๐š. ๐šƒ๐š‘๐šŽ๐šข ๐š—๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š—๐š˜๐š  / โš ๏ธ
๐šˆ/๐š— ๐š’๐šœ ๐šŠ ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š›๐šข ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐š๐šž๐šœ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š’๐š›๐š•, ๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐š–๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š˜๐šก๐š’๐šŒ. ๐™ท๐šŽ๐š› ๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š—๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š•๐š ๐šŠ๐šข๐šœ ๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š ๐š˜ ๐š™๐šŠ๐š›๐š๐š—๐šŽ๐š›๐šœ, ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š๐š’๐š–๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š‹๐šข, ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐šข'๐š•๐š• ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜ ๐š–๐šŠ๐š”๐šŽ ๐š’๐š ๐šŒ๐š•๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š› ๐š๐š˜ ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐šœ๐š‘๐š’๐š ๐šœ๐š๐š˜๐š™๐šœ ๐š—๐š˜๐š 
๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šŠ ๐š๐š’๐š›๐š๐šข ๐š–๐š’๐š—๐š, ๐šœ๐š˜ ๐š๐š’๐š›๐š๐šข ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐šข/๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ ๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐š‘๐š›๐š˜๐šž๐š๐š‘ ๐šœ๐š˜ ๐š–๐šž๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐š๐š›๐š˜๐šž๐š‹๐š•๐šŽ ๐š“๐šž๐šœ๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐™ฑ๐š’๐š•๐š•๐šข'๐šœ ๐š‘๐š˜๐šž๐šœ๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ'๐šœ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š™๐š•๐šŠ๐š—๐š—๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐š ๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š”๐šœ / โš ๏ธ
๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐š—๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š› ๐š”๐š—๐šŽ๐š  ๐šœ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐šŠ ๐š๐šŠ๐š๐š๐šข ๐š”๐š’๐š—๐š” ๐šž๐š—๐š๐š’๐š• ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š‚๐š๐šŽ๐š™-๐™ณ๐šŠ๐š ๐š–๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐šŠ ๐š–๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š— ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›. ๐™ฝ๐š˜๐š  ๐šœ๐š‘๐šŽ'๐šœ ๐šŠ ๐š–๐šŽ๐šœ๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š’๐š— ๐š•๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ
๐™บ๐š’๐š—๐š”๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š›๐šŽ๐š—'๐š ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐š—๐š๐šœ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š˜๐šž๐š ๐š›๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š ๐šŠ๐š ๐šŠ๐šข, ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๐š‹๐šข ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š ๐šŠ๐šข ๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ ๐š๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š•๐šœ ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š— ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šœ๐šŽ๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐šœ๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š›๐šŽ๐š๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐š›๐šž๐šœ๐š‘ ๐š๐šŠ๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š, ๐š–๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐š‘๐š’๐š– ๐š๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š• ๐šŠ ๐š๐šข๐š™๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š ๐š ๐šŠ๐šข ๐š’๐š—๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š—๐š๐š•๐šข
๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š›๐šœ ๐™ฒ๐š˜๐š ๐š˜๐š›๐š”๐šŽ๐š›๐šœ, ๐š‚๐š๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ, ๐š๐š˜๐š›๐š‹๐š’๐š ๐šข/๐š— ๐š๐š›๐š˜๐š– ๐š๐š˜๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐šœ๐šŽ ๐š๐šŠ๐š—๐š๐šŠ๐šœ๐šข ๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐šž๐šœ๐šŽ ๐š’๐š "๐šŠ๐š๐š๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š๐šœ" ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š“๐š˜๐š‹. ๐šˆ/๐š— ๐š’๐š๐š—๐š˜๐š›๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š– ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐š๐š’๐š—๐šž๐šŽ๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐šข๐š ๐šŠ๐šข๐šœ. ๐™ฝ๐š˜๐š  ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐šข'๐š•๐š• ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐šž๐š—๐š™๐š›๐š˜๐š๐šŽ๐šœ๐šœ๐š’๐š˜๐š—๐šŠ๐š• / sแด‡ส€ษชแด‡s
๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐š๐šž๐šœ๐šŽ๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š™๐š’๐šœ๐šœ๐šŽ๐š about ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š‘๐š’๐š ๐š๐šŠ๐š•๐š”๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šข/๐š— ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š‹๐šŽen ๐š๐š˜๐š’๐š—๐š. ๐™ด๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐š˜๐šž๐š๐š‘ ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š’๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š ๐š›๐š˜๐š—๐š, ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐šœ๐š‘๐š˜๐š  ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š™๐š™๐šŽ๐š—๐šœ ๐š’๐š ๐šœ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š™๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š”๐šœ ๐š๐š˜๐š ๐š— ๐š˜๐š— ๐š‘๐š’๐š– ๐šŠ๐š๐šŠ๐š’๐š— / โš ๏ธ
๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š•๐š ๐šŠ๐šข๐šœ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐šข/๐š—. ๐™ฝ๐š˜๐š  ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š๐š˜ ๐š‹๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š๐šŠ๐š’๐š—, ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š๐š’๐š–๐šŽ, ๐šข/๐š— ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š ๐š˜๐š›๐šœ๐šŽ / โš ๏ธ
๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ'๐šœ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š— ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐šž๐š๐š‘๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š‚๐š๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š’๐šœ ๐šœ๐š๐šž๐šŒ๐š” ๐šŠ๐š ๐š ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐šž๐š๐š‘๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐š– ๐š๐š˜๐š’๐š—๐š. ๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ ๐š๐š›๐šŽ๐š  ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐š๐š’๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐šœ๐šŽ ๐š‚๐š๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ๐šž๐š•๐š• ๐š‘๐š’๐š– ๐šœ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š”๐š’๐š๐š๐š˜๐šœ ๐š ๐š˜๐š—๐š ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š– / ๐Ÿณ๏ธโ€๐ŸŒˆ
๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐š๐š—'๐š ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š•๐š’๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐šŽ๐šข๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š— ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šœ๐šŠ๐š  ๐™ฑ๐š’๐š•๐š•๐šข ๐™ท๐šŠ๐š›๐š๐š›๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š•๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š ๐šข/๐š—'๐šœ ๐š“๐š˜๐š’๐š—๐š. ๐™ท๐šŽ ๐š–๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š“๐š˜๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›. ๐š‚๐š‘๐šŽ'๐šœ ๐šŒ๐š•๐šŠ๐š’๐š–๐šŽ๐š, ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๐š–๐šŠ๐šข๐š‹๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŽ'๐š•๐š• ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜ ๐šœ๐š‘๐š˜๐š  ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›
๐™ฟ๐šŽ๐š›๐šŸ๐šข ๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐šŠ ๐šŒ๐š›๐šž๐šœ๐š‘ ๐š˜๐š— ๐šข/๐š— ๐šœ๐š’๐š—๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š›๐šŽ๐šœ๐š‘๐š–๐šŠ๐š— ๐šข๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š›. ๐™ท๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š‘๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐š๐š—'๐š ๐š‹๐šŽ ๐š๐šŠ๐š•๐š”๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š˜๐š› ๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š•๐š˜๐š˜๐š”๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šŠ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š ๐šŠ๐šข ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜๐šŽ๐šœ, ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š—'๐š ๐š›๐šŽ๐šœ๐š’๐šœ๐š ๐š’๐š. ๐™ท๐šŽ ๐š—๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›. ๐™ด๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š’๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š–๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š—๐šœ ๐š๐š˜ ๐š‹๐šŠ๐š‹๐šข ๐š๐š›๐šŠ๐š™ ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› / โš ๏ธ
๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š›๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š—๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š› ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐šข๐š™๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜ ๐šœ๐šŽ๐š๐š๐š•๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜๐š ๐š— ๐š˜๐š› ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š๐š ๐šœ๐š ๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š ๐š’๐š— ๐š›๐šŽ๐š•๐šŠ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š—๐šœ๐š‘๐š’๐š™๐šœ. ๐™ฐ๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐šŠ ๐š๐šŽ๐š  ๐š‹๐š’๐š ๐š๐šž๐šŒ๐š” ๐šž๐š™๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šŠ ๐š—๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š ๐š˜๐š ๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š•๐š”๐šŽ๐š›!๐™น๐šŠ๐šœ๐š˜๐š— ๐™ฒ๐šŠ๐š›๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š›, ๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐šข/๐š— ๐š‹๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š” ๐šœ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š‘๐š˜๐š  ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š˜๐š๐š๐š’๐šŒ๐š’๐šŠ๐š•๐š•๐šข ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐š—๐š˜ ๐š๐š˜๐šก๐š’๐šŒ๐š’๐š๐šข / โš ๏ธ
๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š‚๐š๐šŽ๐šŸ๐š’๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š—'๐š ๐š”๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š™ ๐š”๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š™๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š’๐š› ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š—๐š๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š ๐šŠ๐šข ๐š˜๐š› ๐š˜๐š๐š ๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š’๐š› ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šœ๐š ๐š๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐šข๐š–๐š˜๐š›๐šŽ . ๐š‚๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐šœ๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š–, ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜๐šŽ๐šœ๐š—'๐š ๐š”๐š—๐š˜๐š  ๐š’๐š. ๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐š’๐š—๐šŠ๐š•๐š•๐šข ๐š–๐šŠ๐š”๐šŽ ๐šŠ ๐šš๐šž๐š’๐šŒ๐š” ๐š–๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ
๐™ฟ๐šŽ๐š›๐šŸ๐šข ๐š‹๐š˜๐šข๐š๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š—๐š!๐™ฑ๐š’๐š•๐š•๐šข ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š—'๐š ๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š๐š’๐š›๐š•๐š๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐šœ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šœ๐š ๐š๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐šœ ๐š ๐š˜๐š—๐š ๐šŠ๐š๐š–๐š’๐š ๐š‘๐š˜๐š  ๐š–๐šž๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐šข ๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›. ๐™ฑ๐š’๐š•๐š•๐šข ๐š™๐šž๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š– ๐š’๐š— ๐šŠ ๐š™๐š˜๐šœ๐š’๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐šข ๐šŒ๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐š๐š—'๐š ๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐šข ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šœ๐šŠ๐šข "๐š—๐š˜" ๐š๐š˜๐š˜
๐™ฑ๐šŽ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ๐šœ๐š˜๐šœ๐š’๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜๐šŽ๐šœ๐š—'๐š ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ ๐šŽ๐šŠ๐šœ๐šข. ๐™ฝ๐š˜๐š ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š— ๐™น๐šŠ๐šœ๐š˜๐š— ๐™ฒ๐šŠ๐š›๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š› ๐š’๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š›๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š›๐šž๐š’๐š— ๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š›๐šข ๐š•๐š’๐š๐š๐š•๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐š—๐š ๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐šœ ๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š›๐š˜๐šœ๐šœ. ๐™ด๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š’๐š ๐š’๐š ๐š–๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š—๐šœ ๐š๐š›๐šŠ๐šž๐š–๐šŠ๐š๐š’๐šฃ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š—๐šŽ๐š  ๐š•๐š’๐š๐š๐š•๐šŽ ๐š๐š’๐š›๐š•๐š๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š—๐š / โš ๏ธ
๐š‚๐š๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐š˜๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š— ๐šœ๐š๐šž๐šŒ๐š” ๐š’๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šž๐š™๐šœ๐š’๐š๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜๐š ๐š— ๐š๐š›๐šข๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š•๐š˜๐š˜๐š” ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ. ๐™ป๐šŽ๐š'๐šœ ๐š“๐šž๐šœ๐š ๐šœ๐šŠ๐šข ๐š…๐šŠ๐š–๐š™๐š’๐š›๐šŽ!๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ'๐šœ ๐š๐šŽ๐šœ๐š’๐š›๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐š•๐šž๐šœ๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š–๐šŠ๐š”๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š–๐š˜๐š›๐šŽ ๐š•๐š’๐š”๐šŽ ๐š‘๐š’๐š–, ๐š ๐š˜๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š ๐šŽ๐š•๐š• ๐š˜๐š—๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐š‚๐š๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ, ๐š ๐š‘๐š˜ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š‹๐š’๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š—, ๐šŠ๐š›๐š’๐šŸ๐šŽ๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š›๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š›!๐š‹๐šŽ๐šœ๐š ๐š๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š—๐š'๐šœ ๐š‘๐š˜๐šž๐šœ๐šŽ ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ ๐š›๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š‘๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐š– / โš ๏ธ แดœษดา“ษชษดษชsสœแด‡แด… sแด‡ส€ษชแด‡s
๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š•๐š ๐šŠ๐šข๐šœ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š“๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š•๐š˜๐šž๐šœ ๐š˜๐š ๐š‚๐š๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ. ๐™ท๐šŽ ๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐šข/๐š— ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š”๐š—๐šŽ๐š  ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›. ๐™ผ๐šŠ๐šข๐š‹๐šŽ ๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐š•๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š‘๐šŽ'๐šœ ๐šŒ๐š›๐šข๐š’๐š—๐š, ๐šœ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š ๐š˜๐š—๐š ๐š—๐š˜๐š๐š’๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐š‘๐š’๐š– ๐šœ๐š•๐š’๐š™ ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐šŒ๐š” ๐š๐š‘๐š›๐š˜๐šž๐š๐š‘ ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š•๐š’๐š™๐šœ / โš ๏ธ
๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐š ๐š˜๐š—๐š ๐š™๐šŠ๐šข ๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐šŽ๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š–๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐šž๐š™ ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐šŽ๐šก๐š๐š›๐šŠ ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐šœ๐š‘. ๐™ฝ๐š˜๐š  ๐šœ๐š‘๐šŽ'๐šœ ๐š’๐š๐š—๐š˜๐š›๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐š–, ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š—'๐š ๐š’๐š๐š—๐š˜๐š›๐šŽ ๐š‘๐š’๐š– ๐š๐š˜๐š›๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š› / โš ๏ธ
๐š›๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š˜๐šŽ๐šœ๐š—'๐š ๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐š˜ ๐šœ๐š•๐š˜๐š  ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š— ๐š’๐š ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š๐š˜ ๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ ๐™ผ๐šž๐š—๐šœ๐š˜๐š— ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š’๐š›๐šœ๐š
๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐š ๐š›๐š’๐š๐šŽ๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š˜๐š—๐šข๐š–๐š˜๐šž๐šœ ๐š•๐šŽ๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š›๐šœ ๐š๐š˜ ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šœ๐š ๐š๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š—๐š, ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š’๐š—๐š๐šœ ๐š˜๐šž๐š, ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐šœ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ ๐š™๐š•๐šŠ๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐šš๐šž๐š’๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐š๐š›๐š˜๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›
๐™ฑ๐š’๐š๐šŒ๐š‘๐šข!๐š›๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐š•๐šŽ๐š'๐šœ ๐™ฑ๐š’๐š•๐š•๐šข ๐š๐š˜๐šž๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š‘๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šœ๐š ๐š๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š—๐š, ๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ ๐™ผ๐šž๐š—๐šœ๐š˜๐š—'๐šœ ๐š‹๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š”. ๐š‚๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š ๐š’๐š•๐š• ๐š‹๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐š๐š›๐š˜๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š
๐—ฆ๐—ง๐—˜๐—ฉ๐—˜ ๐—›๐—”๐—ฅ๐—ฅ๐—œ๐—ก๐—š๐—ง๐—ข๐—ก
๐™ฑ๐š’๐š•๐š•๐šข ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐šœ ๐šœ๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š‚๐š๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐™ฝ๐šŠ๐š—๐šŒ๐šข ๐š๐š˜๐š๐šŽ๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š›. ๐™ธ๐š ๐š–๐šŠ๐š”๐šŽ๐šŽ ๐š‘๐š’๐š– ๐šœ๐š’๐šŒ๐š” ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š›๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šข ๐š๐š˜ ๐š•๐šŽ๐š ๐š•๐š˜๐šœ๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š— ๐š‚๐š๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š›๐šข ๐š๐š’๐š–๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐šŽ๐š๐šœ ๐š‘๐š’๐š– ๐šŠ๐š•๐š˜๐š—๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐š˜๐šœ๐šŽ ๐š‘๐š˜๐šž๐šœ๐šŽ ๐š™๐šŠ๐š›๐š๐š’๐šŽ๐šœ / ๐Ÿณ๏ธโ€๐ŸŒˆ
๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š›๐šœ ๐™ฒ๐š˜๐š ๐š˜๐š›๐š”๐šŽ๐š›๐šœ, ๐š‚๐š๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ, ๐š๐š˜๐š›๐š‹๐š’๐š ๐šข/๐š— ๐š๐š›๐š˜๐š– ๐š๐š˜๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐šœ๐šŽ ๐š๐šŠ๐š—๐š๐šŠ๐šœ๐šข ๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐šž๐šœ๐šŽ ๐š’๐š "๐šŠ๐š๐š๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š๐šœ" ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š“๐š˜๐š‹. ๐šˆ/๐š— ๐š’๐š๐š—๐š˜๐š›๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š– ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐š๐š’๐š—๐šž๐šŽ๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐šข๐š ๐šŠ๐šข๐šœ. ๐™ฝ๐š˜๐š  ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐šข'๐š•๐š• ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐šž๐š—๐š™๐š›๐š˜๐š๐šŽ๐šœ๐šœ๐š’๐š˜๐š—๐šŠ๐š• / sแด‡ส€ษชแด‡s
๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ'๐šœ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š— ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐šž๐š๐š‘๐š ๐šŠ๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ๐š ๐š‚๐š๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š’๐šœ ๐šœ๐š๐šž๐šŒ๐š” ๐šŠ๐š ๐š ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐šž๐š๐š‘๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐š– ๐š๐š˜๐š’๐š—๐š. ๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ ๐š๐š›๐šŽ๐š  ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐š๐š’๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐šœ๐šŽ ๐š‚๐š๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š™๐šž๐š•๐š• ๐š‘๐š’๐š– ๐šœ๐š˜๐š–๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š”๐š’๐š๐š๐š˜๐šœ ๐š ๐š˜๐š—๐š ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š– / ๐Ÿณ๏ธโ€๐ŸŒˆ
๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š‚๐š๐šŽ๐šŸ๐š’๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š—'๐š ๐š”๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š™ ๐š”๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š™๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š’๐š› ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š—๐š๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š ๐šŠ๐šข ๐š˜๐š› ๐š˜๐š๐š ๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š’๐š› ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šœ๐š ๐š๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐šข๐š–๐š˜๐š›๐šŽ . ๐š‚๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐šœ๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š–, ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜๐šŽ๐šœ๐š—'๐š ๐š”๐š—๐š˜๐š  ๐š’๐š. ๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐š’๐š—๐šŠ๐š•๐š•๐šข ๐š–๐šŠ๐š”๐šŽ ๐šŠ ๐šš๐šž๐š’๐šŒ๐š” ๐š–๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ
๐™ฟ๐šŽ๐š›๐šŸ๐šข ๐š‹๐š˜๐šข๐š๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š—๐š!๐™ฑ๐š’๐š•๐š•๐šข ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š—'๐š ๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š๐š’๐š›๐š•๐š๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐šœ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šœ๐š ๐š๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐šœ ๐š ๐š˜๐š—๐š ๐šŠ๐š๐š–๐š’๐š ๐š‘๐š˜๐š  ๐š–๐šž๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐šข ๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›. ๐™ฑ๐š’๐š•๐š•๐šข ๐š™๐šž๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š– ๐š’๐š— ๐šŠ ๐š™๐š˜๐šœ๐š’๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐šข ๐šŒ๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐š๐š—'๐š ๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐šข ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šœ๐šŠ๐šข "๐š—๐š˜" ๐š๐š˜๐š˜
๐š‚๐š๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐š˜๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š— ๐šœ๐š๐šž๐šŒ๐š” ๐š’๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šž๐š™๐šœ๐š’๐š๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜๐š ๐š— ๐š๐š›๐šข๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š•๐š˜๐š˜๐š” ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ. ๐™ป๐šŽ๐š'๐šœ ๐š“๐šž๐šœ๐š ๐šœ๐šŠ๐šข ๐š…๐šŠ๐š–๐š™๐š’๐š›๐šŽ!๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ'๐šœ ๐š๐šŽ๐šœ๐š’๐š›๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐š•๐šž๐šœ๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š–๐šŠ๐š”๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š–๐š”๐š›๐šŽ ๐š•๐š’๐š”๐šŽ ๐š‘๐š’๐š–, ๐š ๐š˜๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š ๐šŽ๐š•๐š• ๐š˜๐š—๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐š‚๐š๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ, ๐š ๐š‘๐š˜ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š‹๐š’๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š—, ๐šŠ๐š›๐š’๐šŸ๐šŽ๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š›๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š›!๐š‹๐šŽ๐šœ๐š ๐š๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š—๐š'๐šœ ๐š‘๐š˜๐šž๐šœ๐šŽ ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ ๐š›๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š‘๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐š– / โš ๏ธ แดœษดา“ษชษดษชsสœแด‡แด… sแด‡ส€ษชแด‡s
๐™ฑ๐šŠ๐š‹๐šข๐šœ๐š’๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š›!๐š›๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šŠ ๐šŒ๐š›๐šž๐šœ๐š‘ ๐š˜๐š— ๐š๐š’๐šŸ๐š˜๐š›๐šŒ๐šŽ๐š ๐™ณ๐šŠ๐š!๐š‚๐š๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐™ท๐šŠ๐š›๐š›๐š’๐š—๐š๐š๐š˜๐š— ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š–๐šŠ๐š”๐šŽ๐šœ ๐šŠ ๐š—๐šŠ๐šœ๐š๐šข ๐š–๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ
๐š‚๐š๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ'๐šœ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šœ๐š ๐š๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š‹๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š” ๐š๐š›๐š˜๐š– ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š•๐š•๐šŽ๐š๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š๐š˜ ๐š‹๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š—๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š”๐šข ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐šž๐šœ๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š”๐š’๐š๐š๐š˜๐šœ
๐š‚๐š๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐šŽ๐š—๐š˜๐šž๐š๐š‘ ๐š˜๐š ๐™ฑ๐š’๐š•๐š•๐šข'๐šœ ๐š‹๐šž๐š•๐š•๐šข๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š“๐šž๐šœ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šŽ๐š—๐š˜๐šž๐š๐š‘ ๐š˜๐š ๐š‚๐š๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ'๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š๐š๐š’๐š๐šž๐š๐šŽ / ๐Ÿณ๏ธโ€๐ŸŒˆ
๐—๐—”๐—ฆ๐—ข๐—ก ๐—–๐—”๐—ฅ๐—ฉ๐—˜๐—ฅ
๐™ถ๐š˜๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š’๐š— ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐šŠ ๐š™๐š›๐š˜๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐šŽ๐šก๐šŠ๐š– ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šŠ ๐š–๐šŠ๐š— ๐š’๐šœ ๐š๐š’๐š๐š๐š’๐šŒ๐šž๐š•๐š. ๐™ด๐šœ๐š™๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š’๐šŠ๐š•๐š•๐šข ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜๐šŒ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐™ท๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐š‚๐šŒ๐š‘๐š˜๐š˜๐š• ๐š‹๐šž๐š•๐š•๐šข
๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š›๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š—๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š› ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐šข๐š™๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜ ๐šœ๐šŽ๐š๐š๐š•๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜๐š ๐š— ๐š˜๐š› ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š๐š ๐šœ๐š ๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š ๐š’๐š— ๐šŠ ๐š›๐šŽ๐š•๐šŠ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š—๐šœ๐š‘๐š’๐š™. ๐™ฐ๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐šŠ ๐š๐šŽ๐š  ๐š‹๐š’๐š ๐š๐šž๐šŒ๐š” ๐šž๐š™๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š—๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š ๐š˜๐š ๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š•๐š”๐šŽ๐š›!๐™น๐šŠ๐šœ๐š˜๐š— ๐™ฒ๐šŠ๐š›๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š›, ๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐šข/๐š— ๐š‹๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š” ๐šœ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š‘๐š˜๐š  ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š˜๐š๐š๐š’๐šŒ๐š’๐šŠ๐š•๐š•๐šข ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐š—๐š˜ ๐š๐š˜๐šก๐š’๐šŒ๐š’๐š๐šข / โš ๏ธ
๐™ฑ๐šŽ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ๐šœ๐š˜๐šœ๐š’๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜๐šŽ๐šœ๐š—'๐š ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ ๐šŽ๐šŠ๐šœ๐šข. ๐™ฝ๐š˜๐š ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š— ๐™น๐šŠ๐šœ๐š˜๐š— ๐™ฒ๐šŠ๐š›๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š› ๐š’๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š›๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š›๐šž๐š’๐š— ๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š›๐šข ๐š•๐š’๐š๐š๐š•๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐š—๐š ๐™ด๐š๐š๐š’๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐šœ ๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š›๐š˜๐šœ๐šœ. ๐™ด๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š’๐š ๐š’๐š ๐š–๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š—๐šœ ๐š๐š›๐šŠ๐šž๐š–๐šŠ๐š๐š’๐šฃ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š—๐šŽ๐š  ๐š•๐š’๐š๐š๐š•๐šŽ ๐š๐š’๐š›๐š•๐š๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š—๐š / โš ๏ธ
๐Ž๐”๐“๐„๐‘ ๐๐€๐๐Š๐’ ๐‚๐‡๐€๐‘๐€๐‚๐“๐„๐‘๐’:
๐—ฅ๐—”๐—™๐—˜ ๐—–๐—”๐— ๐—˜๐—ฅ๐—ข๐—ก
๐š†๐š‘๐š˜ ๐š ๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐š ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐š˜๐šž๐š๐š‘๐š ๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐š–๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š’๐š ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š— ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šœ๐šŠ๐š’๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šŒ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š—๐š๐š’๐š—๐š? ๐™ฝ๐š˜ ๐š˜๐š—๐šŽ ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๐šข/๐š—, ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐šŠ๐š•๐š˜๐š—๐šŽ ๐š–๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐š‘๐š’๐š– ๐š๐šŠ๐š•๐š• ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š›๐š—๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š. ๐š†๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š ๐š’๐š•๐š• ๐™น๐™น ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜ ๐šœ๐šŠ๐šข ๐šŠ๐š‹๐š˜๐šž๐š ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐šœ? sแด‡ส€ษชแด‡s
๐™ท๐šŽ ๐š”๐š—๐š˜๐š ๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŽ'๐šœ ๐š ๐š›๐š˜๐š—๐š, ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๐šœ๐š˜ ๐š ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š? ๐™ท๐šŽ'๐šœ ๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š–๐šŽ๐š›๐š˜๐š— ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐šŽ๐š๐šœ ๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š›๐šข ๐š ๐š˜๐š–๐šŠ๐š— ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐š๐šœ -- ๐š๐šŠ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š’๐š'๐šœ ๐šŠ ๐š›๐šŠ๐š—๐š๐š˜๐š– ๐š๐š’๐š›๐š• ๐š˜๐š› ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐šœ๐š๐šŽ๐š™-๐šœ๐š’๐šœ๐š๐šŽ๐š› /โš ๏ธ
๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š•๐š ๐šŠ๐šข๐šœ ๐š•๐šŽ๐š'๐šœ ๐š ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š™๐šŽ๐š˜๐š™๐š•๐šŽ ๐šœ๐šŠ๐šข ๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š’๐š—๐š๐š˜ ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š. ๐™ฐ๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š˜๐š๐šŠ๐šข ๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐š˜๐š•๐š, ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐šŒ๐š•๐šŠ๐š’๐š– ๐šข/๐š— ๐šœ๐š˜ ๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š›๐šข๐š˜๐š—๐šŽ ๐š ๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐š ๐š”๐š—๐š˜๐š  ๐š ๐š‘๐š˜ ๐šœ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š•๐š˜๐š—๐š๐šœ ๐š๐š˜. ๐šƒ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š—๐š”๐š๐šž๐š•๐š•๐šข ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐šข/๐š—, ๐™น๐™น ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜ ๐š™๐š’๐šŒ๐š”๐šž๐š™ ๐š ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐š•๐šŽ๐š๐š / โš ๏ธ
๐™ฑ๐šŽ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š’๐š— ๐š•๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐™น๐™น'๐šœ ๐šœ๐š’๐šœ๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ๐š—'๐š ๐šœ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐š™๐š•๐šŠ๐š—๐š—๐šŽ๐š, ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๐š’๐š ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š™๐š™๐šŽ๐š—๐šŽ๐š. ๐™ท๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š—๐šž๐šŒ๐š” ๐š’๐š— ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐š›๐š˜๐šž๐š๐š‘ ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐™น๐™น'๐šœ ๐š‘๐š˜๐šž๐šœ๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š‘๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š› ๐š‘๐š’๐š– ๐š˜๐šž๐š, ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๐šœ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š๐š’๐š๐š๐š’๐šŒ๐šž๐š•๐š. ๐™ท๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐šœ๐š‘๐š˜๐š  ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š‘๐š˜๐š  ๐š–๐šž๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š—๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›
๐™ฑ๐šŽ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ'๐šœ ๐šŽ๐šก ๐š’๐šœ ๐š๐šŽ๐š›๐š›๐š’๐š๐šข๐š’๐š—๐š, ๐šŽ๐šœ๐š™๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š’๐šŠ๐š•๐š•๐šข ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š— ๐š‘๐šŽ'๐šœ ๐š˜๐š‹๐šœ๐šŽ๐šœ๐šœ๐šŽ๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š—'๐š ๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐š˜๐šž๐š๐š‘๐š ๐š˜๐š ๐š™๐š’๐š–๐š™๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š˜ ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐šœ. ๐š›๐šŠ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐šœ๐š‘๐šŽ'๐šœ ๐š•๐šŠ๐šŒ๐šŽ๐š ๐š˜๐šž๐š ๐š˜๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š–๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š˜๐š› ๐šœ๐š˜๐š‹๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐šŠ ๐š•๐š’๐š๐š๐š•๐šŽ ๐š–๐š˜๐š›๐šŽ ๐š๐šž๐š— / โš ๏ธ sแด‡ส€ษชแด‡s
๐™ฟ๐š˜๐š™๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š๐š˜๐š—๐šŽ, ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐šž๐šœ๐š’๐š— ๐š’๐šœ ๐šœ๐š๐š’๐š•๐š• ๐šŠ๐š›๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š•๐š™ ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š™๐šŠ๐š›๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐šœ ๐šž๐š—๐š๐š’๐š• ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š‹๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š”. ๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ'๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š•๐š ๐šŠ๐šข๐šœ ๐š•๐š’๐š”๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐š˜๐šž๐š๐š‘๐š ๐š˜๐š ๐š‘๐šž๐š›๐š๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐š˜๐šœ๐šŽ ๐™ฟ๐š˜๐š๐šž๐šŽ๐šœ, ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š’๐š ๐š’๐š— ๐šœ๐š’๐š•๐šŽ๐š—๐šŒ๐šŽ, ๐š’๐šœ ๐š ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐šข/๐š— ๐šœ๐š‘๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐š ๐š ๐šŠ๐š๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐š˜๐šž๐š ๐š๐š˜๐š› / โš ๏ธ แดœษดา“ษชษดษชsสœแด‡แด… sแด‡ส€ษชแด‡s
๐™น๐™น ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š๐šŒ๐š‘๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šœ๐š ๐š๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐šœ ๐š•๐šŽ๐š๐šœ ๐š ๐š’๐š๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š™๐šŽ๐š— ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐šŽ๐š—๐šŽ๐š–๐šข. ๐š‚๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š‘๐š˜๐š , ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š—'๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š•๐š™ ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๐š ๐šŠ๐š๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐šž๐š—๐š๐š’๐š• ๐š’๐š ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š๐šž๐š›๐š— ๐š๐š˜ ๐š™๐šž๐š—๐š’๐šœ๐š‘ ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š๐š›๐šŠ๐šข๐šŠ๐š• / แดœแด˜แด…แด€แด›แด‡แด… แด แด‡ส€sษชแดแด
๐™ฑ๐šž๐šฃ๐šฃ๐šŒ๐šž๐š!๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐™ฒ๐šŠ๐š–๐šŽ๐š›๐š˜๐š—'๐šœ ๐š๐š’๐š›๐š•๐š๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š—'๐š ๐š๐šž๐š ๐š˜๐š— ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š“๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š•๐š˜๐šž๐šœ ๐š‹๐š˜๐šข๐š๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š’๐š› ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŽ'๐šœ ๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š˜๐šž๐š
๐—๐— ๐— ๐—”๐—ฌ๐—•๐—”๐—ก๐—ž
๐š†๐š‘๐š˜ ๐š ๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐š ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐š˜๐šž๐š๐š‘๐š ๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐š–๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š’๐š ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š— ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šœ๐šŠ๐š’๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šŒ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š—๐š๐š’๐š—๐š? ๐™ฝ๐š˜ ๐š˜๐š—๐šŽ ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๐šข/๐š— ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐šŠ๐š•๐š˜๐š—๐šŽ ๐š–๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐š‘๐š’๐š– ๐š๐šŠ๐š•๐š• ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š›๐š—๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š. ๐š†๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š ๐š’๐š•๐š• ๐™น๐™น ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜ ๐šœ๐šŠ๐šข ๐šŠ๐š‹๐š˜๐šž๐š ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐šœ?
๐™น๐™น ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š๐šŒ๐š‘๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šœ๐š ๐š๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐šœ ๐š•๐šŽ๐š๐šœ ๐š ๐š’๐š๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š™๐šŽ๐š– ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐šŽ๐š—๐šŽ๐š–๐šข. ๐š‚๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š‘๐š˜๐š , ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š—'๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š•๐š™ ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๐š ๐šŠ๐š๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐šž๐š—๐š๐š’๐š• ๐š’๐š ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š๐šž๐š›๐š— ๐š™๐šž๐š—๐š’๐šœ๐š‘ ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐š‘๐šŽ๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š๐š›๐šŠ๐šข๐šŠ๐š• / แดœแด˜แด…แด€แด›แด‡แด… แด แด‡ส€sษชแดษด
๐™น๐™น ๐š›๐šž๐š—๐šœ ๐š๐š˜ ๐šŒ๐š‘๐šž๐š‹๐š‹๐šข!๐š›๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š›๐šœ ๐š‘๐š˜๐šž๐šœ๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š–๐š๐š˜๐š›๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐šŠ๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐šŠ ๐š๐š›๐š˜๐šž๐š™ ๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š’๐š›๐š•๐šœ ๐š›๐šŠ๐š— ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š˜๐š๐š, ๐šŒ๐š›๐šข๐š’๐š—๐š, ๐šœ๐š˜ ๐šœ๐š‘๐šŽ'๐š ๐š•๐šŽ๐šŠ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š‘๐š’๐š– ๐šŠ๐š•๐š˜๐š—๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š’๐š› ๐š๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š‘๐š˜๐š˜๐š” ๐šž๐š™ ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐™น๐™น
๐—ง๐—ข๐—ฃ๐—ฃ๐—˜๐—ฅ ๐—ง๐—›๐—ข๐—ฅ๐—ก๐—ง๐—ข๐—ก
๐™ฑ๐šŽ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ'๐šœ ๐šŽ๐šก ๐š’๐šœ ๐š๐šŽ๐š›๐š›๐š’๐š๐šข๐š’๐š—๐š, ๐šŽ๐šœ๐š™๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š’๐šŠ๐š•๐š•๐šข ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š— ๐š‘๐šŽ'๐šœ ๐š˜๐š‹๐šœ๐šŽ๐šœ๐šœ๐šŽ๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š—'๐š ๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐š˜๐šž๐š๐š‘๐š ๐š˜๐š ๐š™๐š’๐š–๐š™๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š˜ ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐šœ, ๐š›๐šŠ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐šœ๐š‘๐šŽ'๐šœ ๐š•๐šŠ๐šŒ๐šŽ๐š ๐š˜๐šž๐š ๐š˜๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š–๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š˜๐š› ๐šœ๐š˜๐š‹๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐šŠ ๐š•๐š’๐š๐š๐š•๐šŽ ๐š–๐š˜๐š›๐šŽ ๐š๐šž๐š— / โš ๏ธ sแด‡ส€ษชแด‡s
๐“๐‡๐„ 100 ๐‚๐‡๐€๐‘๐€๐‚๐“๐„๐‘๐’:
๐—•๐—˜๐—Ÿ๐—Ÿ๐—”๐— ๐—ฌ ๐—•๐—Ÿ๐—”๐—ž๐—˜
๐™ฐ๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐šœ๐š‘๐š˜๐š˜๐š๐š’๐š—๐š ๐™น๐šŠ๐š‘๐šŠ, ๐™ฑ๐šŽ๐š•๐š•๐šŠ๐š–๐šข ๐š—๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐šŠ๐š•๐š• ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š ๐š›๐š’๐šœ๐š๐šœ๐š‹๐šŠ๐š—๐š๐šœ ๐š˜๐š๐š, ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๐š˜๐š ๐šŒ๐š˜๐šž๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ๐šœ๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š‹๐šŽ ๐šข/๐š— ๐š๐š˜ ๐š–๐šŽ๐šœ๐šœ ๐šž๐š™ ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š™๐š•๐šŠ๐š—. ๐™ท๐š’๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š›๐šŽ๐š , ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š˜๐š˜๐š– ๐š•๐šŽ๐š ๐š’๐š ๐šŠ๐š•๐š• ๐š˜๐šž๐š / แดษชษดษช sแด‡ส€ษชแด‡s / โš ๏ธ
๐™ฑ๐šŽ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š˜๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š›๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐š™๐šŽ๐š˜๐š™๐š•๐šŽ ๐š ๐š‘๐š˜ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š“๐šž๐šœ๐š ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐šž๐šœ๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š’๐š› ๐š–๐š’๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š”๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š’๐šœ ๐š˜๐š—๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜๐šž๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐šœ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐š—๐š๐šœ ๐šข/๐š— ๐šŒ๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐š‘๐š›๐š˜๐šž๐š๐š‘. ๐™ฑ๐šŽ๐š•๐š•๐šŠ๐š–๐šข ๐šœ๐šŽ๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š๐š›๐šŽ๐šœ๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š’๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š•๐š– ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š˜๐š ๐š— ๐šŠ ๐š‹๐š’๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š’๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐šข/๐š— ๐šœ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š•๐š’๐š”๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š›๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š
๐™ฑ๐šŽ๐š•๐š•๐šŠ๐š–๐šข ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š๐š˜๐š•๐š ๐™ผ๐š˜๐š—๐š๐šข ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐™น๐šŠ๐šœ๐š™๐šŽ๐š› ๐šŠ๐š‹๐š˜๐šž๐š ๐š๐š’๐šŸ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šข/๐š— ๐š๐š›๐š’๐š—๐š”๐šœ. ๐™ฐ๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š–๐šŠ๐š”๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š’๐š ๐šŒ๐š•๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š› ๐šŠ๐š๐šŠ๐š’๐š—, ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜๐š˜๐š” ๐šข/๐š— ๐š‹๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š” ๐š๐š˜ ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐š, ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐šœ๐šž๐š™๐š›๐š’๐šœ๐šŽ, ๐šœ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š™๐š’๐š•๐š•๐šŽ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š‘๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š›๐š ๐š˜๐šž๐š
๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š›๐šœ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šœ๐š ๐š๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š—๐š, ๐™ฒ๐š•๐šŠ๐š›๐š” ๐š๐šŽ๐š๐šœ ๐š๐š˜๐š๐šŽ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐™ฑ๐šŽ๐š•๐š•๐šŠ๐š–๐šข ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š›๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐š’๐šœ ๐š“๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š•๐š˜๐šž๐šœ. ๐™ฑ๐šŽ๐š•๐š•๐šŠ๐š–๐šข ๐š—๐š˜๐š๐š’๐šŒ๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š›๐šž๐š—๐š”, ๐šœ๐š˜ ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š™๐šŠ๐šข๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐šŠ ๐šŸ๐š’๐šœ๐š’๐š ๐šŠ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š•๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š๐šž๐š›๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐šž๐š—๐š๐š’๐š• ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐š๐š—'๐š ๐š‘๐š˜๐š•๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐š–๐šœ๐šŽ๐š•๐š ๐š‹๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š” ๐š๐š›๐š˜๐š– ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šŸ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š ๐š›๐š˜๐š—๐š ๐š๐š’๐š›๐š•. ๐™ท๐šŽ ๐š—๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐šข/๐š—
๐™ฑ๐šŽ๐š•๐š•๐šŠ๐š–๐šข ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š›๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š›๐šœ, ๐šœ๐š˜ ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐šŠ๐š”๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š•๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š›!๐š›๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐š˜๐šž๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š ๐š’๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š ๐š˜๐š˜๐š๐šœ. ๐™ฐ๐š•๐š• ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š•๐š• ๐š‹๐š›๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š”๐šœ ๐š•๐š˜๐š˜๐šœ๐šŽ, ๐š–๐šŠ๐š”๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐š– ๐š›๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š•๐š’๐šฃ๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š•๐š–๐š˜๐šœ๐š ๐š”๐š’๐š•๐š•๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š•๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š•๐š’๐š๐šŽ
๐˜๐Ž๐”๐“๐”๐๐„๐‘๐’:
๐—–๐—ข๐—Ÿ๐—•๐—ฌ ๐—•๐—ฅ๐—ข๐—–๐—ž
๐™ฐ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ, ๐™ฒ๐š˜๐š•๐š‹๐šข ๐šœ๐š‘๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐š ๐š‹๐šŽ ๐š–๐šŠ๐š›๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š ๐š˜๐š› ๐š๐š˜๐šŒ๐šž๐šœ๐šŽ๐š ๐š˜๐š— ๐š ๐š˜๐š›๐š”, ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š—'๐š ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š— ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐šœ๐š ๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š ๐šœ๐š๐šž๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐š“๐šž๐šœ๐š ๐š๐š›๐šŠ๐š๐šž๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š, ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š–๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š ๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐šŒ๐š•๐š˜๐šœ๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜ ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š‹๐š˜๐šข ๐š๐š˜๐šข. ๐™ท๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š—'๐š ๐š•๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š™๐š™๐šŽ๐š— / โš ๏ธ
๐™ฒ๐š˜๐š•๐š‹๐šข ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š•๐š ๐šŠ๐šข๐šœ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š˜๐š‹๐šœ๐šŽ๐šœ๐šœ๐šŽ๐š ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š’๐š› ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š–๐šŽ๐š›๐šŠ๐š ๐š˜๐š–๐šŠ๐š—. ๐™ต๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šœ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š˜๐š—๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š๐š ๐š’๐šœ ๐šŠ ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š—๐š˜ ๐š™๐š›๐š˜๐š‹๐š•๐šŽ๐š– ๐š๐š˜๐š’๐š—๐š, ๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š’๐š ๐šข/๐š— ๐š๐š’๐š๐š—'๐š ๐šŠ๐š™๐š™๐š›๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š’๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐š’๐š
๐™ฒ๐š˜๐š•๐š‹๐šข ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š— ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š๐š˜๐š—'๐š ๐š•๐š’๐šœ๐š๐šŽ๐š— ๐š๐š˜ ๐š‘๐š’๐š–, ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๐š ๐š‘๐š˜ ๐š’๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐šŽ๐š•๐š• ๐šข๐š˜๐šž, ๐šŠ ๐š๐š›๐š˜๐š ๐š— ๐š ๐š˜๐š–๐šŠ๐š— ๐š ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ๐š˜ ๐š๐š˜? ๐™พ๐š‘, ๐šข๐š˜๐šž'๐š•๐š• ๐šœ๐šŽ๐šŽ / โš ๏ธ
โœ๏ธŽ๏ธŽ
๐Œ๐Ž๐’๐“ ๐‹๐ˆ๐Š๐„๐ƒ ๐Ž๐๐„-๐’๐‡๐Ž๐“:
"ษช แด…แด‡sแด‡ส€แด แด‡ สแดแดœ" - ส€แด€า“แด‡ แด„แด€แดแด‡ส€แดษด
แด‹ษดแดแด„แด‹ สแดแดœ แดœแด˜. - แด‡แด…แด…ษชแด‡ แดแดœษดsแดษด
แด…แด สแดแดœ แด„ส€แด‡แด€แด แดส€ sวซแดœษชส€แด›? - sแดœส™!sแด›แด‡แด แด‡ สœแด€ส€ส€ษชษขษดแด›แดษด x sแดœส™!ส€แด‡แด€แด…แด‡ส€ x แด…แดแด!แด‡แด…แด…ษชแด‡ แดแดœษดsแดษด
แดแด‡แด€ษด!ส™แด‡สŸสŸแด€แดส ส™สŸแด€แด‹แด‡ x ษขส€แดแดœษดแด…แด‡ส€!ส€แด‡แด€แด…แด‡ส€
ส™แดœแดขแดขแด„แดœแด›!ส€แด€า“แด‡ แด„แด€แดแด‡ส€แดษด x ส€แด‡แด€แด…แด‡ส€
ส™แดœสŸสŸส!ส™ษชสŸสŸส สœแด€ส€ษขส€แดแด แด‡ x ษชษดษดแดแด„แด‡ษดแด›!ส€แด‡แด€แด…แด‡ส€
๐Œ๐Ž๐’๐“ ๐‹๐ˆ๐Š๐„๐ƒ ๐’๐„๐‘๐ˆ๐„๐’:
า“แดส€ส™ษชแด… (แด˜แด€ส€แด› แดษดแด‡)
า“แดส€ส™ษชแด… (แด˜แด€ส€แด› แด›แดกแด)
โ™ก๏ธŽโ™ฅ๏ธŽโ™ก๏ธŽโ™ฅ๏ธŽโ™ก๏ธŽโ™ฅ๏ธŽโ™ก๏ธŽโ™ฅ๏ธŽโ™ก๏ธŽโ™ฅ๏ธŽโ™ก๏ธŽโ™ฅ๏ธŽโ™ก๏ธŽโ™ฅ๏ธŽโ™ก๏ธŽโ™ฅ๏ธŽโ™ก๏ธŽโ™ฅ๏ธŽโ™ก๏ธŽโ™ฅ๏ธŽโ™ก๏ธŽโ™ฅ๏ธŽ
419 notes ยท View notes
hellcheercaine ยท 10 months ago
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Jason, just go along with Eddie. Just for once.
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xspeter ยท 10 months ago
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๐™”๐™ค๐™ช ๐˜พ๐™ก๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™”๐™ค๐™ช๐™ง ๐™‹๐™–๐™ฅ๐™š๐™ง๐™จ ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™‹๐™š๐™ฃ๐™จ (๐™’๐™–๐™ž๐™ฉ ๐™๐™ฃ๐™ฉ๐™ž๐™ก ๐™”๐™ค๐™ช ๐™‡๐™ž๐™ ๐™š ๐™ˆ๐™š ๐˜ผ๐™œ๐™–๐™ž๐™ฃ) / Part One
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โฃ๏ธŽ ๐—ฆ๐˜๐—ฒ๐˜ƒ๐—ฒ ๐—›๐—ฎ๐—ฟ๐—ฟ๐—ถ๐—ป๐—ด๐˜๐—ผ๐—ป ๐˜… ๐—™๐—ฒ๐—บ!๐—ฅ๐—ฒ๐—ฎ๐—ฑ๐—ฒ๐—ฟ
โฃ๏ธŽ Steve remembers the exact moment he ruined everything. He remembers when those blinds closed for the last time, and he lost you for good. But, itโ€™s been a year since then, and Steve is determined to make you fall in love with him again.
โฃ๏ธŽ wc: 16.4k
โฃ๏ธŽ notes: ๐™š๐™ญ๐™š๐™จ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™ก๐™ค๐™ซ๐™š๐™ง๐™จ, ๐™จ๐™š๐™˜๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™˜๐™๐™–๐™ฃ๐™˜๐™š ๐™ง๐™ค๐™ข๐™–๐™ฃ๐™˜๐™š, ๐™—๐™ค๐™ค๐™ ๐™จ๐™ฉ๐™ค๐™ง๐™š!๐™–๐™ช, jason carver gets handsy with reader but nothing happens, some cussing
reblogs are greatly appreciated ! <3
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September, 1979
Youโ€™d met Steve Harrington a week before your first day of seventh grade. Youโ€™d just moved to Hawkins from some small town in Pennsylvania - apparently your parents were big on the small town life - and you had been terrified.
Youโ€™d spent your entire life with the same group of kids and the same friends. You didnโ€™t want to leave them, but you didnโ€™t have any choice. And to a thirteen-year-old you, it felt like your parents were stabbing you in the back.
You still remember the tears that rolled down your cheeks as you helped your parents move the boxes holding your childhood items out of the U-Haul and into your brand new bedroom. Your mom did her best to cheer you up, โ€œLook,โ€ She spoke softly, tugging you into her side, โ€œItโ€™s so much bigger than your old room. Isnโ€™t that nice?โ€
You just cried harder.
It was true, your dads new job in Hawkins was rolling in money like your family had never seen before, but you didnโ€™t care about those kinds of things, you never had. You cared about the people and the memories you had to leave behind.
But, of course, none of that mattered at this point. Youโ€™d left. You still had your friends' numbers memorized, but how long would it be before it faded from your mind, and your number faded from theirs? The thought made you nauseous.
You spent that first night sniffling, surrounded by scattered cardboard boxes and various items. You didnโ€™t even have your bed frame yet, the U-Haul had gotten delayed for whatever reason, so you were stuck with a mattress laid onto the dusty hardwood floor.
But, like there is with almost everything, there was a silver lining. Your books.
To most people, books are just that. Books. Theyโ€™re boring, expensive, and seen as a way to waste time and nothing else. They donโ€™t see them for what they really are.
To you (and your friends back home), a book was an escape. It was the perfect way to spend your time and the perfect hobby, and right now, it was the only thing keeping you from breaking down.
Your current book was about four sisters who all were navigating through different paths in life, and all finding different ways to deal with the world around them. It was a classic, and you saw a bit of yourself in all of the sisters. (The painter a little more than the others in all honesty.)
It was simple yet complex in all the right places and definitely one of your favorite books this year. You continue to read it through glassy eyes, doing your best to keep your mind off of your current situation, when suddenly thereโ€™s a bang at your window.
You jump up, arms instinctively hugging the open book to your chest. There was another one, and then another, and then another, before you finally swallow harshly and work up the courage to approach the glass. You placed your book gently onto the hardwood next to you, the spine up as it laid flat, and softly padded towards the noise.
Goosebumps rose onto your skin as you did, your short clad legs attempting to get used to the cold air around you now that youโ€™d left the safety of your blankets.
At first, you couldnโ€™t make anything out except for the house next to you and the starry night sky, but then you saw the cause of the noise. A rock. Someone was throwing rocks at your window.
You furrowed your brows and looked towards the ground, and low-and-behold some boy was standing outside your window. He had dark brown hair, wore a green sweatshirt with what youโ€™re assuming is a school logo on it, and gray shorts.
Hesitantly, you unlocked your window and hauled it up, but not before another rock hurled its way straight at your neck. It hit you smack in the middle of your throat, causing you to choke for a moment and grab at the area. โ€œOw!โ€
The boy winced and immediately dropped the rest of the rocks in his hand, (why did he have so many rocks? At least ten fell out of his hand!) โ€œSorry!โ€ He yelled out.
You glared at him, hand rubbing soothingly at your now sore throat, โ€œWho are you?โ€
โ€œUh, Steve - Steve Harrington. I live next door.โ€ He pointed at the house next to you, โ€œYou see that window?โ€ He gestured to the one directly across from your own, โ€œThatโ€™s my room.โ€
You nodded, eyes narrowing into thin slits, โ€œAlright, Steve. If your room is right across from mine, why didnโ€™t you just stay up there instead of going through the trouble of pelting rocks at me?โ€
Steve stills for a moment, and you can physically see the gears turning in his head. โ€œUm,โ€ He stumbles for a moment, โ€œGive me one second.โ€ You can hear him practically sprinting back into his house, his sandals smacking against the ground as he goes, and you canโ€™t help but snicker.
Youโ€™d be lying if you said that you didnโ€™t find the twenty seconds youโ€™d spent with the boy so far to be the most enjoyable of this whole week, but it had. It was almost strange to you - to be talking to a boy. All of your friends back home had been girls, and you mostly stayed away from the boys. To you, they felt like unknown territory. What did they like to talk about? What did they like to do for fun? Did they have any interest in a girl like you? Would they ever have any interest in a girl like you?
All of your friends had had a boy like them at some point in time, some of them had already had boyfriends! But not you. No, never you.
Boys didnโ€™t look at you. Steve was the first to ever even show any interest in you at all. It made your stomach flutter.
Soon enough, the light across from you flicks on and you watch curiously as Steve stumbles across piles of clothes and other knick-knacks to reach you. He struggles with the window for a second, before it suddenly pops open with a slight screech.
โ€œHey,โ€ He smiled, breaths coming out a bit heavy.
Your lips twitched upwards at the corners, โ€œWelcome back.โ€ You teased.
Steve slapped his arms at his sides and let his head dip to the side, his eyes rolling a bit as he did, โ€œIโ€™m sure you missed me.โ€
You furrowed your brows, โ€œYou were gone for, like, five seconds. And I donโ€™t even know you. Why would I miss someone I donโ€™t know?โ€
โ€œUh, because I'm super buff and attractive?โ€
A snort slipped from you at that comment, โ€œYeah, okay. Keep tellingโ€™ yourself that.โ€
โ€œI will.โ€
Thereโ€™s a short pause between the two of you, and you nibble on your bottom lip. Youโ€™d never been able to banter so easily with many other people before. It made you excited.
โ€œSoooo, where are you from?โ€ Steve asks, effectively breaking the silence.
You sighed and leaned your elbows against the sill, your chin falling atop your hands, โ€œPennsylvania.โ€ You answered dryly.
Steve nodded and copied your actions so that you were face to face, โ€œIโ€™ve never been there. I mean, my dad has for his work, but I never have personally.โ€ He rambles.
You click your tongue, โ€œThatโ€™s cool.โ€
Steve nods slowly, โ€œWhyโ€™d you guys move?โ€
โ€œAre you interrogating me?โ€
โ€œYou donโ€™t have to answer if you donโ€™t want to.โ€
You quickly shake your head, โ€œNo, I do. I just wasnโ€™t expecting so many questions,โ€ you chuckled, nervously tucking a stray piece if hair behind your ear, โ€œUm, my dad got a new job here. Some bank job or something, Iโ€™m not really sure.โ€
Steve perked up, โ€œMy dad works at the bank too! Maybe they work together.โ€
You shrugged, โ€œMaybe.โ€
Steve licked his lips and glanced down at the ground below you. The both of you were only on the second story, but the grass felt so much farther away then it really was. โ€œYou donโ€™t seem very excited about it.โ€
You bit your lip, eyes darting across his tanned skin. The summer had done wonders on him, but you were sure the upcoming school year would fade it away. โ€œBecause Iโ€™m not.โ€
โ€œWhy?โ€
You gave him a look, โ€œWould you wanna move away from all your friends?โ€
Steve paused to think for a moment. To him, leaving Tommy and Carol wouldnโ€™t be the worst idea in the world. He could start over and ditch the reputation heโ€™d built, but he knew that wasnโ€™t the answer you were looking for, so instead he said, โ€œNo, I guess not.โ€
You gestured with your hand and huffed out a breath, โ€œMy point exactly.โ€
Steve shrugged, โ€œWell, Hawkins isnโ€™t all bad. Itโ€™s not like thereโ€™s monsters hiding out around here or something.โ€ He joked.
You could help but laugh along with him. There was something about the way he always had something positive to say to make you feel better, or maybe that was just how you were observing him in the last ten minutes. โ€œYouโ€™re funny, you know that?โ€
Steve scoffed out a laugh, standing back and crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt to look nonchalant, โ€œDuh, of course I know that.โ€
You snickered, โ€œDon't let it get to your head.โ€
โ€œToo late. I can already feel my skull growing to accommodate.โ€
Your body shook as you laughed, moving your face under your hands to hide yourself. Steve mentally fist pumped at making you laugh like that, and he prayed heโ€™d hear it again, and soon.
Once your laughter died down and all was left was silence, Steve asked, โ€œAre you going to Hawkins Middle for school? Or did your parents enroll you in that Catholic place down the street?โ€
You shrugged, โ€œWell, Iโ€™ve never heard of the Catholic place down the street, so Iโ€™m gonna say Hawkins Middle.โ€
Steve grinned, โ€œGreat! I go there, too. You can totally sit with me at lunch and stuff.โ€
โ€œIโ€™d be grateful to be allowed in your presence.โ€ You tease, pretending to bow your head.
Steve just smirked, โ€œIโ€™d expect nothing less.โ€
You and Steve spent practically all night talking. Heโ€™d gone down to his kitchen at some point for a snack and came back upstairs with two bowls of chips. After many failed attempts, some including one of you nearly falling to your death, you were able to grab the chip bowl meant for you.
Once both of you were full and content, it was already nearing midnight. If your parents saw you up and talking to Steve, youโ€™d be in so much trouble.
โ€œI think Iโ€™d better head to bed.โ€ You mumbled, a sad smile on your face.
Steve nodded and wiped his palms on his pants, โ€œYeah, me too.โ€
You didnโ€™t want this to be a one time thing in all honesty. You really, really enjoyed talking to Steve, and you hoped he really, really enjoyed talking to you as well.
You opened your mouth to tell him so, but decided against it, so all that fell from your lips was a simple, โ€œGoodnight, Steve.โ€
He gave you a sappy smile, โ€œGoodnightโ€ฆโ€ His eyebrows furrowed and he blinked excessively, โ€œWait, you never told me your name.โ€
He was right. You hadnโ€™t realized it, but you never thought to tell Steve your name.
โ€œItโ€™s Y/N.โ€
Steve just chuckled and placed his hands above his head onto the window, โ€œGoodnight, Y/N.โ€
โฃ๏ธŽ
That following week had been filled with late night conversations between you and Steve. Theyโ€™d always start the same - youโ€™d be laying in your bed reading a book (youโ€™d gotten your bed frame finally), Steve would throw something at your window, and then youโ€™d talk and share a bowl of chips.
In all honesty, this tradition had become your rock. It felt like the one thing that was really yours in this new town.
That last night before the first day of school, Steve had seemed troubled, his brows crinkled and he wasnโ€™t talking as much as he normally did.
โ€œWhats wrong?โ€ You asked hesitantly. You werenโ€™t sure if you and Steve were at the point in your relationship where you could be open with each other. In all honesty, you were expecting him to say something like oh, iโ€™m fine or nothing, why? But he didnโ€™t, instead he said, โ€œIโ€™m worried about tomorrow.โ€
You furrowed your brows. Steve had been practically shouting from the rooftops how excited he was for you to meet all of his friends just two days before. โ€œWhy?โ€ You asked, โ€œI thought you were excited?โ€
Steve bit his lip, โ€œI was.โ€ He sighed, โ€œBut I went to this pool party at a friends house today and it just.. it reminded me of some stuff Iโ€™d forgotten about.โ€ Well, that explained his fresh tan.
You werenโ€™t sure how to reply to him. You didnโ€™t want to push him or make him feel pressured to say anything, but you were also curious. โ€œWas it.. was it bad?โ€
Steve sighed and ran a hand through his hair, โ€œHonestly? Um, kind of.โ€ He groaned, eyes shut as he tried to find the words, โ€œTommy and Carolโ€ฆ theyโ€™re not the best people. And I know that I shouldnโ€™t be friends with them but,โ€ he paused and rubbed the bridge of his nose. You wanted to reach out and comfort him. โ€œI feel like I owe them, you know? I was a real lonely kid and they were the first people who ever made an attempt to get to know me, but nowโ€ฆโ€ He trailed off, his forehead hitting the windowsill as he dipped his head.
You bit your lip, unsure of what to say. You didnโ€™t know Tommy or Carol, the only things you knew about them were what Steve had said, which were only good things.
You crossed your knees, left heel popped as you nibbled on your lower lip in thought. If Steve really felt this bad about whatever they were doing, then the right thing would be to distance from them, but you didnโ€™t know his situation. To Steve, he felt as if he owed them something, even though friendship isnโ€™t something that should have to be repaid.
You sucked in a breath, socked feet tapping rapidly at the hardwood below you, โ€œItโ€™s okay to grow out of friendships, you know?โ€ You mumbled. โ€œItโ€™s happened to me, and we both parted ways happily without some big, dramatic fallout. If you really feel that way about them, maybe itโ€™s time you do the same.โ€
Steve was silent for a few moments, and you couldnโ€™t help but feel badly for him. โ€œThanks Y/N, butโ€ฆโ€ He took a deep breath and shook his head lightly, โ€œI just donโ€™t think thatโ€™s something I can do. Iโ€™ll see you tomorrow, alright?โ€
You were a little shocked when he ended the conversation so suddenly, and were worried youโ€™d said something to bother him. โ€œIโ€™m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.โ€
He chuckled softly, messy brown hair falling over his eyes, โ€œDon't worry, Itโ€™s not you. But I've really gotta get to bed, okay?โ€
Unconvinced, you just nod. โ€œAlrightโ€ฆ Iโ€™ll see you tomorrow.โ€
Steve crashes into his bed with a muffled groan, pink lips pulled down into a frown. In all of reality, heโ€™d gone to this party and boasted to everyone about his new neighbor. And instead of being happy and excited to have a new person in the group, Tommy and Carol had grimaced at the thought.
โ€œWhatโ€™s her name again?โ€ She asked, legs crossed as she sat on the purple lawn chair.
โ€œY/N.โ€
Tommy snickered and leaned over to whisper something in Carol's ear, and she got that knowing smirk on her face. The one that practically dripped venom. โ€œOh, you little friend can totally hang out with us.โ€ She said, tone heavy with sarcasm, โ€œShe seems just peachy!โ€
Steveโ€™s stomach immediately twisted, his intuition practically screaming at him to realize itโ€™s a setup, and to do everything in his power to keep you away from it.
โ€œCome on, guys,โ€ He grumbled, wiping a hand over his face as water dripped from his hair onto the concrete below him, โ€œwill you please just be nice?โ€
Carol crossed her arms over her chest and pursed her lips, โ€œWhat makes you think weโ€™re not gonna be nice to her, Stevie?โ€
His nose scrunched at the nickname, anytime Carol called him that he knew heโ€™d struck a nerve. โ€œIโ€™m not trying to say you wonโ€™t be, itโ€™s justโ€ฆ I really like her and I donโ€™t want her to stop talking to me if you guys do something.โ€
Carol snorted, her red hair falling over her shoulder as she did, โ€œYou like her? You donโ€™t even know her!โ€
Steveโ€™s cheeks flush a bright pink as he sinks further into his chair. Yes, it was true that heโ€™d grown the tiniest crush on you during your late night talks, but he couldnโ€™t help it! You were so kind and soft-spoken, and you always knew how to make him laugh. And the fact that you were one of the prettiest girls heโ€™d ever seen was just the icing on the cake. How could he not fall the smallest bit in love with you?
That next morning youโ€™d been practically shaking in the car. Your mom assured you over and over that itโ€™d be a good day and youโ€™d make lots of new friends, but it wasnโ€™t that you were nervous about.
Sure, school without friends sucked but you could live just fine without them. No, you were worried about Steve. Heโ€™d been worried about something his friends had said, and you had a sinking feeling it had something to do with you.
As soon as you stepped foot onto campus you were immediately looking for Steve. Youโ€™d seen him leave his house a couple minutes before you did, so you assumed he was already here, you just werenโ€™t sure where.
You swallowed as you walked through the crowded halls. There were groups of girls reuniting after summer vacations spent in Europe, guys with tan skin and even brighter eyes, but no Steve.
You get through your whole first period class with zero sign of the brunette boy, and itโ€™s not until youโ€™re halfway to your second do you catch a glimpse of him. His back is turned to you, but you could recognize that laugh anywhere.
Shyly, you walk up to him. You can see heโ€™s with a freckled boy and red headed girl, who you assume are his friends, Tommy and Carol.
Carol notices you first, and she eyes you up and down with precision. She smacks on her gum before she nudges Tommy and gestures her head in your direction.
The both of them stare at you for so long that by the time you even make it to Steveโ€™s side heโ€™s already turning to face you.
Surprise flashes on his face, but itโ€™s soon replaced with happiness, and then something you canโ€™t quite read. The smile on his face is strained as he says, โ€œY/N! Hey!โ€
You give him a small wave back, nerves crawling up your spine at the hungry look Carols giving you. Like youโ€™re her next meal.
โ€œOh my gosh!โ€ She practically squeals, grabbing your arm and forcing you closer to her. You nearly stumble to the ground from the force but Steve grabs your shoulder and steadies you. โ€œSteve told us so much about you!โ€ She leered, well manicured hands hugging you close to her body.
You pushed away from her gently, uncomfortable with all of the attention, โ€œOh. Thatโ€™s nice.โ€ You glance at Steve to try and get a read from him, but his face is blank. He meets your gaze apologetically and crosses his arms over his chest, โ€œLeave her alone, Carol.โ€ He mutters.
Tommy flashes his teeth with a hateful grin, โ€œOh, come on,โ€ He snickers, โ€œwe just wanna know your girlfriend better.โ€
โ€œSheโ€™s not my girlfriend!โ€ Steve defends, eyebrows furrowed in frustration.
Carol rolls her eyes at him and then turns her attention back to you, โ€œLook, why donโ€™t you eat lunch with us today, hm?โ€ She asks, batting her lashes.
Your eyes dart to Steve. You donโ€™t want to invade his space (even though heโ€™d said you could eat lunch with him days ago), and you can tell heโ€™s clearly uncomfortable with the way Tommy and Carol are acting, so you attempt to say, โ€œOh, I donโ€™t think-โ€
Carol cuts you off, โ€œWeโ€™ll see you there, okay?โ€ She draws out the syllables in the okay, linking her arm with Tommyโ€™s and then walking away without allowing you to answer.
You and Steve watch them go, and you begin to bite your nails, a nervous habit youโ€™d been trying to break. โ€œI didnโ€™t mean to-โ€ You begin, hoping Steve isnโ€™t too angry with you including yourself like this, but he just shakes his head with a sigh. โ€œItโ€™s.. fine. Itโ€™s not like Carol gave you much choice.โ€ He attempts to joke, and you let out an awkward laugh.
Steve eyes you, clearly unsure of how to release the tension surrounding the both of you, but the late bell does it for you.
You barely bid him a short goodbye before youโ€™re reaching for the map in your back pocket and leaving Steve behind to stand awkwardly in the hallway alone.
He watches you leave, stomach flipping at whatever he knows Carol must have planned for lunch.
Unlike Tommy, Carol was calculated. Tommy would be mean on the spot, he didnโ€™t really plan out any of the things he did, they more so just happened. But Carol, sheโ€™d plan them for weeks.
Once, sheโ€™d pretended to be friends with Jacey Collins for nearly the entire fifth grade year just so she could embarrass her at her birthday party. Steve doesnโ€™t know what Carol did, but whatever it was, it was bad enough to make Jacey move schools.
So, yeah, he was a little nervous for lunch.
He was even more nervous every time heโ€™d catch Tommy and Carol giggling with each other, both refusing to tell Steve what the hell they were talking about, and instead promising heโ€™d find out soon enough.
By fourth period, their last period before lunch, Steve had had enough. Carol was whispering something in Tommyโ€™s ear, casually glancing at Steve as she did. Finally fed up, steve smacked his hand on the desk and said, โ€œCarol, whatever you're planning, just quit it, okay? Y/Nโ€™s a nice girl, and she doesnโ€™t deserve whatever twisted joke you and numb nuts are planning.โ€ He smacked Tommy upside the head, causing the boy to rub at the spot gently.
Carol glowered, her eyes thin slants, โ€œIf you really have that much of an issue with it, why donโ€™t you go sit with your little girlfriend in the bathroom or something. Iโ€™m sure sheโ€™d love that.โ€ She giggled with a suggestive wiggle of her brows.
Tommy cackled, โ€œI could totally see her and Steve getting it on in the bathroom.โ€
Steve scrunched his nose, โ€œGross, man!โ€ He shoved Tommy in his chair, and then focused his attention back onto Carol, โ€œThis is the only time Iโ€™ve ever asked you to do basically anything for me. So please, just this once, can you just be nice?โ€
Carols lips thinned into a line as she swung her feet back in forth in her chair, back resting against the plastic seat. โ€œIf I leave your little,โ€ she pretended to gag, โ€œgirlfriend alone, whatโ€™re you gonna do for me?โ€
Steve shouldโ€™ve known that Carol Perkins does not do anything for anyone unless thereโ€™s something in it for her. He shrugged, โ€œAnything you want.โ€
A cheshire grin immediately spread onto her glossy lips, โ€œAnything?โ€
โ€œYep,โ€ Steve huffed with annoyance, โ€œanything.โ€
She shared a look with Tommy, the both of them almost looked to be communicating with just their eyes. โ€œOkay,โ€ She suddenly slapped her palms onto her lap, โ€œWe want full 24/7 access to your pool for the rest of the summer.โ€
Steve immediately groaned and ran a hand through his hair. He couldnโ€™t use the excuse that his parents would get mad at him because his parents were never home anyway and they knew that. Thatโ€™s why she asked him, because she knew they could get away with practically anything there.
Heโ€™s tempted to say no, to refuse and let Carol have her way with you, but then he thinks about the soft smile you get on your face everytime he opens his window, and he knows thereโ€™s no way he could do that to you.
โ€œFine.โ€
โ€œReally?โ€
โ€œMhm.โ€ He already knows this is a bad idea, but he reminds himself who heโ€™s doing it for. โ€œThe pool is completely yours.โ€
Carol squeals happily, immediately turning to Tommy to discuss what Steve assumes are the things theyโ€™ll do together, but he drowns them out.
All he knows is that you wonโ€™t have to be subjected to Carolโ€™s cruelty, and that makes the whole thing worth it.
But, he shouldโ€™ve known Carol would find a loophole.
By the time lunch came the knot that had formed in Steveโ€™s stomach had disappeared, and he was actually excited to see you.
Tommy spotted you first, a yellow tray in your hand as your eyes darted across the room. โ€œGod, she looks like a puppy.โ€ He snickered in Steveโ€™s ear.
Steve shook him off, muttering a quiet shut up under his breath as he made himself known to you.
โ€œY/N! Hey.โ€ Youโ€™d never looked so relieved to see him as you do now, your furrowed brows immediately relaxing. โ€œHi.โ€ you murmured.
โ€œUh, Iโ€™ll take you to our table.โ€
You gazed down to his empty hands, โ€œArenโ€™t you gonna get lunch?โ€
Steve couldnโ€™t help but laugh at your words, โ€œOh, no. We never eat lunch here.โ€ He gestured with his head to the rest of his friends, who were already sitting and were also without lunch.
Your gaze dropped down to your own tray, and you suddenly felt insecure. At your old school, you and your friends always ate lunch, you didnโ€™t even know it was a thing not to. โ€œShould Iโ€ฆโ€ You trailed off, gesturing to the trash can. Steve immediately shook his head, โ€œOh, no! I mean if youโ€™re hungry then you should eat.โ€
You nodded and squared your shoulders. Steve was right, no one was gonna care if you were eating lunch or not. It was just your insecurities speaking.
You gave him a genuine smile and let him lead you to the table, you sat next to him obviously, on the outside of everyone else.
Carol flashed a grin at you, โ€œIโ€™m so happy you decided to come! For a second there we thought you might run off to the bathrooms with the freaks!โ€ She giggled. The comment made your stomach churn, but you were sure it was just some harmless joke, right? You forced a laugh, โ€œOh, no. I was just confused in the whole lunch situation.โ€ You said, pointing to the empty spaces around them.
Carol hummed, pretending to be intrigued, โ€œOh, we never eat lunch here. It makes you gain, like, twenty pounds in just a day!โ€ All of Carol's friends giggled, and that nervous feeling in your stomach suddenly came back tenfold.
โ€œOh,โ€ You swallowed, โ€œI didnโ€™t know that..โ€
โ€œOf course you didnโ€™t, silly!โ€ She eyed you up and down, โ€œActually, do you want me to throw that away for you? Itโ€™s probably a good thing you donโ€™t eat that you wouldnโ€™t want to..โ€ She trailed off with a wince.
Tommy let out a loud laugh, โ€œYeah, no offense, but how often did you eat your other schools lunch? It kind of shows.โ€
โ€œTommy!โ€ Steve shouted suddenly, โ€œWhat the hell is wrong with you?โ€
To you, your body had never really been an insecurity for you. But Carol and Tommyโ€™s comments suddenly have you folding your arms over your stomach in an attempt to hide.
Tommy pursues his lips, โ€œItโ€™s just the truth!โ€
Steve just scoffed and stood roughly from his spot, โ€œCome on, Y/N.โ€ You immediately followed him, doing your best to avoid Carol's smirk as she watched you walk away.
Steve led you into the empty hallway, hands clenched at his sides in anger. โ€œGod, I am so sorry. I shouldโ€™ve known theyโ€™d say some dumb shit like that-โ€
โ€œHey, hey,โ€ You shushed him, โ€œItโ€™s fine. You didnโ€™t know. We did the right thing by leaving.โ€
The guilt still didnโ€™t leave Steve though, because deep down he did know something was going to happen. He knew Carol wouldnโ€™t stop just because Steve offered her something. And the thing about her was she was so subtle about it that it seems like she doesnโ€™t know what sheโ€™s saying is mean, when in all actuality, she does.
โ€œNo, still, I shouldnโ€™t have let you sit there.โ€
You sighed, โ€œLook, maybe I just..โ€ You swallowed, โ€œWhy donโ€™t we just keep our friendship out of school, okay? Iโ€™ll find some friends on my own.โ€
Steveโ€™s lips parted slightly, eyebrows crinkling together in confusion, โ€œSo I'm just supposed to ignore you?โ€
You shook your head, a smile tugging at your lips, โ€œIโ€™m not saying that. We just wonโ€™t go out of our way to see each other.โ€
Steve sucked in a breath. Doing that made it seem like he was ashamed to be friends with you, which was honestly anything from the truth. If anything, he was ashamed to be friends with them.
โ€œI donโ€™t want you to thinkโ€ฆโ€
โ€œI wonโ€™t think anything,โ€ You reassured, โ€œThis was my idea anyway. And besides, this way we can keep everything more private.โ€
Steve took a breath and let himself soak in the information. You would still be friends, just not at school. Easy.
โ€œOkay,โ€ He said, โ€œIโ€™ll see you tonight then.โ€
June, 1986
Present Day
Getting a summer job at the bookstore was honestly one of the best things you think you couldโ€™ve done. After graduation, and the unfortunate mall fire at Starcourt which destroyed your job at The Gap, youโ€™d been out of work and living with your parents.
For most people, nineteen is a normal age to be living with your parents, especially when youโ€™re putting yourself through school like you are because youโ€™re parents refuse to pay because you chose a local college instead of the prestigious one theyโ€™d picked out for you across the country.
Your parents were disappointed with your choices and you knew that, but you couldnโ€™t bear the thought of leaving just yet. There were so many relationships you werenโ€™t ready to end and so many things left unsaid with.. certain people.
Like Robin for example. Youโ€™d both met a couple weeks after your seventh grade year started. She was a year younger than you were, but she was still the closest friend you had outside of, well, yeah. Steve.
Yours and Steveโ€™s relationship had grown much more complex as the years went on, and long story short, you didnโ€™t talk to him anymore. It hurt too much to do so.
But, Bookish was almost like an escape for you. Most of the people that came in were either kids with their mothers, usually just beginning to fall in love with books just as you did, or they were elderly people who'd fallen in love with it way before youโ€™d even been born.
Robin working there with you only made it better. She used to work at Scoops Ahoy in the mall, along with he-who-shall-not-be-named, but once it burned down sheโ€™d been left without a job just as you had.
Sheโ€™d been over at your house during spring break, the both of you watching Footloose. You on your back, head hanging off of the edge of your bed. Robin rested her back against the headboard, shoveling another handful of popcorn into her mouth. โ€œYou know,โ€ Her words came out muffled, so she paused to let herself chew the rest of her food. โ€œThat new bookshop or whatever opened a couple weeks ago. Maybe we should apply there.โ€
You readjusted so you were leaning back into your elbows, a slight raise of your brow. โ€œBookish? I just went there the other day.โ€
Robin nodded and popped another piece of popcorn in her mouth, โ€œDid you see if they were hiring?โ€
You scrunch your nose, trying to remember. During your visit, youโ€™d been too preoccupied trying to find the best book to purchase and hadnโ€™t really looked. โ€œI have no idea. But, if they're new, they probably have to be.โ€
Robin agrees with you with a nod of her head, and the both of you decide to finish out the movie and then drive down. Robin unfortunately doesnโ€™t have a license, so that meant you were basically forced to drive her everywhere. Well, either you or Steve.
Robin used to hate Steve, even while you were friends with him. She was one of the only people who was aware of your friendship and what it had turned into, and she constantly reprimanded you for getting involved with a guy like that.
But, once they started working together at Starcourt, her view completely changed, but by that time you and Steve were already avoiding each other like the plague.
You glanced at the window, wondering if maybe Steve was on the other side. You hadnโ€™t opened that window or even the blinds for over a year, too afraid of what you might end up seeing.
โ€œHey, you ready?โ€ Robin asks, throwing her jacket on and leaning against your doorframe. You swallow, eyes lingering on the blinds before you turn to her with a smile. โ€œLetโ€™s go.โ€
And that was that. Youโ€™d both gotten hired nearly on the spot by the sweet old lady who ran the store.
Bookish was one of those places that made you feel like you were entering a different time. The floor was dark oak wood and the walls were linen, and it was lined with rows and rows of books. Some were neatly displayed while others just stacked messily.
It was June in Indiana, which meant all the electric fans were going and the AC was cranked as high as it could go, but the warmth still seeped into the building.
โ€œItโ€™s so hot!โ€ Robin groaned, leaning over the counter dramatically, โ€œIโ€™m gonna melt.โ€
You snorted as you continued to organize the books in the fiction section, โ€œItโ€™s not that bad.โ€
Robin smacked her lips, โ€œYou say that now, and then youโ€™ll turn and see iโ€™ve become a puddle on the floor.โ€
You placed a hand on your heart in false sympathy, eyes closing as you imagined the situation, โ€œThat would be so, so completely horrible.โ€ You sniffled, pretending to be sympathetic, then whipped your head to her with a teasing glint in your eye, โ€œBut maybe I'd finally be able to get some work done without that constant whining in my ear!โ€
She scoffed, pretending to be offended. โ€œThis is not whining! Itโ€™s complaining. Thereโ€™s a difference.โ€
You grinned and pushed the cart holding the books back behind the counter, โ€œDoesnโ€™t seem like it to me.โ€
She just rolls her eyes, slumping back into the counter with her head resting in her hand, โ€œWhateverโ€ฆโ€ She trails off, eyes wondering across the building, and then she gasps suddenly, โ€œOh, shit.โ€
You turn to look at her, eyebrows crinkled, โ€œWhat's wrong-โ€ She cuts you off by basically pushing you to the wall, her hand covering your eyes.
โ€œWhat the hell, Robin!โ€ You huff, pushing on her arm in an attempt to release yourself form her hold.
โ€œI am so, so sorry.โ€
โ€œWhat are you talking about-โ€ Youโ€™re finally able to push her away from you, her arm falling to her side as you blink in an attempt to get used to the lighting again. โ€œSeriously, what is wrong with you?โ€ You question, wiping your hands on your dress.
Robin bites her lip and stares right past you towards the front door, her eyes slightly wide.
You like to think that after so many years of knowing Robin youโ€™ve become an expert on her body language, and right now it was practically screaming one thing. Panic.
Hesitantly, you allow yourself to look towards the front where Robin was staring. Honestly, based off of the look on her face you were expecting a monster or maybe even Tammy Thompson to be standing there, but the reality is much worse.
โ€œWhat the hell is he doing here?โ€
Steve Harrington is casually conversing with Mrs. Beck, the old lady who runs the bookstore, like heโ€™s known her for years. Heโ€™s got that soft smile on his face he always got when something made him happy, and his hair has grown a little since the last time you saw him. His face looks freshly shaven, and heโ€™s wearing that god-awful bright yellow sweater youโ€™d told him to burn years ago.
โ€œI can explain.โ€ Robin stammers, hands coming up to tug at her shirt the way she always does when sheโ€™s nervous.
You scrunch your nose and force yourself to turn away from him. It shouldโ€™ve been a no-brainer that Steve being here had something to do with her, because you donโ€™t think youโ€™ve ever seen the boy pick up a book willingly his entire life.
You point an accusing finger at her, โ€œWhat did you do?โ€
Robin swallows, jaw opening and closing as she tries to find the words to defend herself. Finally, she lets out a loud huff and smacks her hands against her sides, โ€œHe needed a job! Keith fired him over at Family Video because he was apparently โ€œstealing all the hot ladies from himโ€, and I told him to come here without thinking! I promise I immediately regretted it and I tried to talk him out of it but it was like he pulled the application out of thin air!โ€
You rub your temples in an attempt to calm your budding nerves. You didnโ€™t want to be angry with Robin because she didnโ€™t deserve your anger for offering her friend a job, no matter what your history with said friend is, but you couldnโ€™t help the growing irritation in the pit of your stomach. โ€œWhy didnโ€™t you at least tell me? Then I couldโ€™ve at least prepared myself!โ€
Robin stutters over her words, hands gesturing wildly, โ€œBecause I knew youโ€™d be mad!โ€
โ€œIโ€™m not mad!โ€
โ€œMad about what?โ€
Youโ€™re almost surprised Steve has the audacity to join the conversation so casually, as if you were still the best of friends who talked every night.
You swallow and squeeze your hands into fists at your sides until your knuckles are a pure shade of white. Robin just stares at him with parted lips, eyebrows shot up in surprise. โ€œUh,โ€ She swallows, allowing herself to steal a glance at you, who has since paled significantly, โ€œNothing.โ€
Steve lets out a huh, his eyes lingering on you, who hasnโ€™t had the courage to turn around and actually look at him, instead leaving him to stare at your back. Steve doesnโ€™t mind though, a little bit of you is more than enough for him.
The three of you are at a stand-still, everyone waiting for one of you to make the first move, for someone to speak, to shout, scream, anything.
But you canโ€™t move because this is the first time youโ€™ve heard his voice in over a year. It's still smooth as butter and music to your ears. Itโ€™s the first time youโ€™ve smelt his cologne, pine and oak but still with a hint of the ocean. Itโ€™s the first time youโ€™ve been near him, and it hurts.
It hurts because you canโ€™t help but wonder about how different your life would be if Steve hadnโ€™t screwed everything up, if he hadnโ€™t said what he said or did what he did.
The back of your throat begins to ache with an onslaught of tears fighting to be let out, but you swallow them down. You refuse to shed any more tears over him.
โ€œWhatโ€™re you doing here, Steve?โ€ Even his name hurts to say.
โ€œRobin, uh, she told me Mrs. Beck was hiring and, well, I needed a job..โ€
You finally whip around and face him, your hair following you as you do and harshly slapping against your face, but you ignore it. โ€œThatโ€™s the only reason? I find that a little hard to believe.โ€ You mumble the last part, eyes narrowing as you stare at him. Steve hadnโ€™t realized how much he missed your glare.
โ€œYeah, it is. Why do you wanna know?โ€ He asks with a suggestive taunt, almost as if heโ€™s daring you to take the bait. You know how his mind works though, so you donโ€™t fall for it.
โ€œI just didnโ€™t know if you finally decided you wanted to learn how to read sโ€™all.โ€
Steve canโ€™t help the smirk that grows on his face. โ€œI was hoping youโ€™d teach me, actually.โ€
You scoff, a shiver running up your spine in disgust. Of course heโ€™d say some stupid shit like that, he always knew how to get on your nerves. โ€œIn your dreams, Harrington.โ€
Steve grinned, a snarky remark begging to spill from his lips, but you donโ€™t let him. Instead, you flip him off and nearly jog into the back room, your legs shaking as you go.
Robin canโ€™t help but feel concerned as she watches you leave, seeds of guilt already beginning to grow in her stomach. She furrowed her eyebrows and smacked Steve on the back of the head, causing him to let out a sharp yelp. โ€œWhat was that for?โ€ He grumbled, hand reaching back to nurse the spot.
โ€œWhat was that for?โ€ Robin mocked, nostrils flared as she pointed an accusing finger at Steve, โ€œYou said you were gonna try and win her back! Newsflash buddy, but making her even more angry than she already is isnโ€™t gonna do that!โ€
โ€œI know that!โ€ Steve defends, โ€œI know what iโ€™m doing, okay? Just trust me.โ€
Robin was really beginning to regret this.
โฃ๏ธŽ
March, 1981
By the time you and Steve started your freshman year of highschool youโ€™d gotten involved in completely different social circles. Steve stayed with all of his popular friends, and was rapidly climbing the highschool food chain. You on the other hand, well, you were doing the opposite.
You werenโ€™t exactly a weirdo per se, but you definitely werenโ€™t cool enough to be associated with any of the popular kids, and that was completely fine with you.
โ€œSweetheart, Iโ€™m sorry, but there is no universe where Queen is better than The Beatles. Itโ€™s just not a thing!โ€
โ€œYouโ€™re just uneducated! Freddy Mercury is a musical genius!โ€ You argue, pelting a potato chip across your window. It nearly hits him, but loses speed and falls to the grass instead.
He chuckles and leans back in his desk chair. You and Steve had both long since decided to just leave your chairs next to your windows, it only made sense since you spent hours talking each night. โ€œIโ€™m not saying he isnโ€™t, but youโ€™re forgetting about Beatlemania. Last I checked, there was never a thing like that for Queen.โ€
You groan and cross your arms over your chest, eyes flickering to the Queen vinyls on your shelves. โ€œJust admit youโ€™re wrong so we can move on, please.โ€
Steve is stubborn. He knows that on all levels, The Beatles are better than Queen. But you have that pleading look on your face, the one with the puppy dog eyes. The one Steve has never been able to say no to. He sighs and throws his head back, a lopsided grin on his face as he admits, โ€œFine, Queen is better.โ€
You smile gleefully and cross your legs, โ€œWas that so hard?โ€
No, it wasnโ€™t. If you looked at Steve like that and asked him to move the world, heโ€™d do so without breaking a sweat.
โ€œYes, actually. It made me nauseous.โ€
โ€œYouโ€™re such a baby.โ€
Youโ€™d be lying if you said you hadnโ€™t spent these last two years falling in love with Steve Harrington. How could you not when he made it so effortless? Honestly, you didnโ€™t even notice it was happening until one day you looked at him and suddenly it was like the stars aligned in front of you.
Sometimes, youโ€™d catch yourself staring at him for too long at school and would have to physically rip yourself away and back to whatever lesson the teacher was babbling about or whatever rant your friend was on. He was just soโ€ฆ distracting. Especially now that heโ€™d joined the swim team and had begun to fill out his clothes.
But, you could never have Steve. There was too much on the line. The most obvious being your friendship, and that was something you just couldnโ€™t risk losing. It meant too much to you. But, sometimes you still let your mind wonder. Youโ€™d let yourself dream of kisses on cheeks, of love confessions done under covers and milkshakes shared over dinner.
Youโ€™d always have to stop though, because thinking about it for too long just made you sad.
The obvious fact that nobody outside of your family and Robin knew of your friendship with the boy was also a big problem with this fantasy. You knew how Steveโ€™s friends were. If he began dating you secretly and suddenly stopped being interested in typical, well, boy things, itโ€™d bring up questions that Steve couldnโ€™t answer.
So the general consensus here was that Steve Harrington was off limits for the foreseeable future.
โ€œWhat're you thinking about in that big brain of yours?โ€ He asks softly, pushing a stray strand of hair out of his face.
You swallow, embarrassed to have been caught but also unsure of how to approach the question. โ€œNothing. Just.. thinking about this project for school.โ€
โ€œWhat is it? Maybe I can help.โ€
You snorted. Steve was a lot of things - beautiful, funny, athletic - but helpful with anything school related? Absolutely not. โ€œI doubt that.โ€
โ€œNo, seriously,โ€ He straightened in his chair a bit, hitting the backrest comfortably, โ€œhit me.โ€
You chuckled awkwardly, eyes avoidant. In all actuality, there wasnโ€™t any project, it was just an excuse you made up on the spot. But, maybe you could play this in your favor.
โ€œWell, we read this short story about this girl whoโ€™s in love with a guy she can never have, and no matter how many solutions she comes up with in her mind he will always be off-limits from her. Weโ€™re supposed to come up with a solution for her to show that, like, nothing is impossible, I guessโ€ฆโ€ You trailed off at the end, rubbing at your arm uncomfortably.
Steve made a strange noise in the back of his throat, crossing his arms over his chest as his eyebrows knitted together. You could practically see the gears turning in his head, and sucked in your bottom lip nervously. Would he know you were lying?
โ€œThatโ€™s a weird project.โ€ He mumbles, completely unaware of your wide eyes. โ€œUh, yeah, it is.โ€ You stammered, the confused look on Steveโ€™s face made you realize how stupid this was, and you immediately go to discard the entire thing, โ€œJust forget it, It was stupid anyway-โ€
โ€œIโ€™d tell her to just go for it.โ€
Your mouth goes dry, โ€œWhat?โ€
โ€œI mean, whatโ€™s the worst that could happen? He says no? And what if that guy really does like her back, what then? Sheโ€™ll never know if she doesnโ€™t tell him!โ€
Your stomach practically explodes in nerves, and you're unsure of what to say. Steveโ€™s looking at you expectantly, but all you can focus on is that one short phrase. Sheโ€™ll never know if she doesnโ€™t tell him.
It was true, but was it really that simple? No - itโ€™s not. The risks are too great, and sure, Steve makes it seem so easy, but itโ€™s not. Nothing is easy when it comes to your feelings for him.
The one thing you were almost certain of was that Steve doesnโ€™t love you like you love him. It was obvious in the constant stares at prettier girls, with fuller figures and whitened smiles. It was obvious in the kisses heโ€™d share with them behind bleachers, hidden away from prying eyes. It was obvious in the way heโ€™d gush to you about his latest crush, of how beautiful they were and how in love he was. And the funny thing? They were always the opposite of you. More outspoken and confident - not afraid to show a little skin. Something you were envious of.
โ€œBut.. What if she does know? And she can never tell him because she knows heโ€™ll reject her and then everything between them will never be the same again?โ€
Steve is a little surprised by your question, and he begins to feel nervous under your piercing gaze. Why were you asking him this? Did you.. did you know? There was no way you did - he always made sure to keep his feelings hidden away anytime he was with you. Heโ€™d fight down the blush, push away the longing - all of it. In all honesty, he was starting to question if this was for a project in the first place.
At first, your project had hit a little close to home, but he didnโ€™t let himself overthink it. But now, his mind was practically swarming with uncharted waters heโ€™d always ignored.
But, still, he amuses the question. โ€œMaybe their relationship will change into the way she wants. She canโ€™t assume the guy doesnโ€™t like her just because he doesnโ€™t show it. Maybe itโ€™s there, and heโ€™s just really good at hiding it.โ€
You no longer enjoyed this conversation. Now it just hurts - because Steve doesnโ€™t even know what heโ€™s doing to you. Heโ€™s giving you hope, and thatโ€™s a dangerous thing to have. It was something you couldnโ€™t let yourself have.
You needed to get away from this conversation and honestly just let it die out. You needed to breathe in the fresh air, finally let yourself take a full breath instead of this constricted, shallow breathing you were currently experiencing.
โ€œDo you wanna go for a bike ride?โ€
Steve snorts, shoulders rising and falling as he does. โ€œNow? Itโ€™s almost midnight and we have school tomorrow -โ€
โ€œIโ€™ll go by myself then.โ€ Youโ€™re already slipping in your tennis shoes before Steve can even argue, throwing a jacket on to protect yourself from the cold night.
Steve nearly jumps out of his chair, brown eyes amused and a smile tugging on his lips. Usually he was the one forcing you to sneak out with him, so this was a nice change of pace.
He meets you outside, watching as you wheel your light blue bike away from the side of the house and to the driveway.
โ€œWhere are we going?โ€ He asks, throwing a leg over his own bike and gazing at the soft smile on your face.
โ€œAnywhere.โ€
That's how you both find yourselves now, wide smiles on your faces as you ride through the quiet town. You were used to the quietness of Hawkins, but not like it is now. Thereโ€™s not a soul in sight, the only thing illuminating the road in front of you being the yellow street lights.
Eventually, you find a nice hilltop to stop at, and the both of you practically collapse onto the grass.
Youโ€™re panting slightly from the ride, but you donโ€™t even care. All you can focus on is the starry sky, thousands of different constellations making themselves known to you.
Sometimes, you think Steve is like a constellation. Beautiful to look at and widely studied, but untouchable. Only a select few got to go up and be with the stars, and you werenโ€™t one of them.
โ€œItโ€™s beautiful out here,โ€ You whisper, hands intertwining on your stomach comfortably.
Steve gazes at the side of your face from where he lays next to you, hands behind his head. โ€œYeah,โ€ He breathes, forcing his gaze away from you and to the stars above, โ€œIt really is.โ€
Youโ€™re not sure how long youโ€™re out there with him, you just know by the time you get back home youโ€™re exhausted.
You and Steve barely spoke a word to each other that whole time, only occasionally pointing out a star that shined brighter than the others or made a funny shape.
But, as you collapse onto your bed and drift into a dreamless sleep thereโ€™s one thing youโ€™re sure of.
You are in love with Steve Harrington, and you think you always will be.
โฃ๏ธŽ
June, 1986
Youโ€™ve chosen to completely ignore Steve, even when he attempts to talk to you. Youโ€™ll simply stick your nose farther into your book and walk away from him.
Youโ€™ll give him some grace though, because he never takes your rejection harshly. He simply watches you walk away with a sigh and turns to talk to Robin about something.
Robin watches you turn tail and practically run away from Steve for what feels like the thousandth time this week, and sheโ€™s had enough. โ€œSteve.โ€
He turns to look at her lazily, hip resting against the counter top and arms crossed against his chest. Heโ€™d attempted to ask you what you were reading today because he noticed it was different than the one heโ€™d seen you with for the past couple of days, but as soon as you saw him approach you shot him an icy glare and walked to the other side of the store. He could see you now, sitting in the window nook comfortably.
โ€œIโ€™m not sure if youโ€™re noticed, but youโ€™re not really making any progress here.โ€ Robin scolds in a hushed voice. She wants you to be happy, and for the past year youโ€™ve been anything but. Sheโ€™s had to comfort you through too many crying sessions, had to stay over because you couldnโ€™t be alone way too many times, and had to watch you close those blinds for the last time and never open them again.
Robin remembers how you were before Steve went and messed everything up, and she selfishly wants that back. Donโ€™t get her wrong, she still loves you more than life itself, but she knows what youโ€™re like when youโ€™re happy, and right now this is not it.
Steve crosses his arms over his chest, โ€œI know that, Robin. But she wonโ€™t talk to me.โ€
She scoffs, โ€œCan you blame her? You broke her heart! Personally, I wouldnโ€™t talk to you either after something like that.โ€
Steve stares at the floor in front of him, shifting his position so his back is leaning against the counter instead of his hip.
Steve hates thinking about how he treated you during your senior year. Actually, he hates to think about how he treated you nearly all of highschool. You didnโ€™t deserve it, and you were an angel for putting up with it. But, sometimes angels get pushed too hard.
He still remembers the tears that stained your cheeks as you begged him to explain himself, remembers the hoarseness in your voice as you screamed at him to leave. But, he thinks the thing that hurt the most was watching you close those blinds for the last time.
That was when he knew it was over. Anytime youโ€™d argued in the past youโ€™d always kept the blinds open, it was almost like a peace offering, like your silent way of telling him you guys would be okay.
โ€œI donโ€™tโ€ฆโ€ He swallows, โ€œI donโ€™t know how to fix it.โ€
Robin canโ€™t help but feel sympathetic for him. She understands why you refuse to talk to him, hell, sheโ€™d probably do the same thing. But, she also knows Steve and she understands how much he regrets his decisions back then. She knows how heavily he was influenced by the people around him and the constant pressure to be King Steve.
โ€œYou need to show her youโ€™ve changed, not just tell her. I could tell you I had a boyfriend but once you saw me kissing a girl youโ€™d know I wasnโ€™t being truthful.โ€
Steve canโ€™t help the snort that slips from him at her comparison. But, he knows sheโ€™s right. What good is it to sit here and preach to you that heโ€™s a changed man if he doesnโ€™t do anything to prove it to you?
You on the other hand couldnโ€™t even focus on your book. Youโ€™d reread the same page twenty times in the last five minutes, and you still had no idea what was going on! Steve was too distracting - and not just because you hated him.
You didnโ€™t want to admit it to yourself, but sometime in the last year youโ€™d forgotten just how attractive Steve was. The moles that dotted his neck like theyโ€™d been crafted by Aphrodite herself, and the way his eyes glimmered a honey brown whenever the sun shined on them. His lips, so pink and sculpted to fit the frame of his face. And donโ€™t even mention his muscles or you might just faint on the spot.
You steal a glance towards him from the corner of your eye, watching as he talks with Robin about something you canโ€™t make out. His head is hung low though, so you can assume itโ€™s nothing good. Maybe she was lecturing him for bothering you, and if you were lucky heโ€™d finally listen.
But, unfortunately luck never seemed to be on your side, and heโ€™s approaching you faster than you can run away. โ€œY/N.โ€ He has you cornered, your back against the window as you glare daggers at him. What the hell did Robin say?
You refuse to answer, instead choosing to go back to pretending to read your book. Steve doesnโ€™t say anything, he just places his hands on his hips and stares down at you.
You're stubborn though, so you refuse to look at him, no matter how badly you might want to. Steve, seemingly getting the hint, just lets out a loud sigh and says, โ€œIโ€™m going to get food from Bennys, do you want anything?โ€
Fuck. You loved Bennys. But, you didnโ€™t want Steve to let you saying yes get to his head, so you just let out a harsh no.
โ€œYou havenโ€™t eaten since you got here four hours ago, thatโ€™s not healthy.โ€
โ€œIโ€™m not hungry.โ€ You respond dryly. Glancing up at him through your lashes. His lips are pursed and heโ€™s got that look on his face he always gets when heโ€™s annoyed. He shrugs, โ€œSuit yourself.โ€ And then leaves without another word.
For a moment, youโ€™re almost shocked. Youโ€™d expected him to fight with you more about it, but youโ€™re not mad that he didnโ€™t.
You practically shoot up and beeline for Robin, whoโ€™s already gazing at you like sheโ€™s been prepared for this. โ€œGod, I hate him!โ€ You groan, rubbing the bridge of your nose.
Robin snorts, hopping onto the countertop and picking at her nails, โ€œBecause he offered to buy you food?โ€
You shoot her a glare, โ€œBecause heโ€™s pretending nothing happened between us.โ€
Robin chews on her bottom lip, glancing up from her chipped nails to a fuming you. โ€œI think heโ€™s just trying to be nice.โ€
โ€œSince when were you his biggest defender? You were begging me to leave him not even two years ago!โ€
Robin winces at the memory. It was true, she used to absolutely loathe Steve with everything in her, but that was before and this was now. People change - and Steve Harrington was a prime example of that.
She stays silent, knowing thereโ€™s nothing she can say at this current moment thatโ€™ll make you feel better.
You force yourself to take a deep breath and lay your forehead onto the counter top, elbows wrapping around your head as you do. Youโ€™ve been arguing with yourself on where you stand with Robin lately. On one hand, sheโ€™d deliberately offered the one man you couldnโ€™t bear to see a job at the one place youโ€™d felt safe from him without even asking you first, and essentially ruined it for you forever. On the other, she was just a girl helping someone she loved get a job somewhere that wasnโ€™t a shit hole like most of the places in town.
It just wasnโ€™t fair that that place has to be here.
You sigh, squeezing your eyes shut, โ€œI just need a second by myself. Iโ€™ll come back out if things get too busy.โ€
Robin just nodded, eyes glued to the floor as you walked past her and into the employee area.
Robin knows you have every right to be mad at her right now, but if risking your friendship was what it took for you to be happy, sheโ€™d do it everyday.
By the time Steve gets back the sun has already started to sink below the clouds, and there was only an hour left of your shift.
You were still in the back room, eyes puffy and red with the remnants of tears. It embarrassed you to admit, but youโ€™d let a few tears and sniffles escape you. You were just so frustrated with your situation.
Steve walks behind the counter nonchalantly, large hands reaching into the white plastic bag and pulling out three styrofoam boxes.
Robin furrows her brows at this, only expecting two. โ€œWhatโ€™s the third one for?โ€
Steveโ€™s silent for a moment, a ghost of a smile on his lips. Did you really think he was gonna let you go hungry? He knows you - knows you love Bennys like you love breathing. Itโ€™s the only reason he got it.
โ€œY/N.โ€
โ€œBut didnโ€™t she-โ€
He shoots her a look that shuts her up as she realizes what he did. Her eyes crinkle as she smiles, and opens her box. โ€œDo you want me to take it to her?โ€
Steve thinks for a moment about what you would want. Logically, he knows you would want Robin to bring it to you, but what would you have wanted before he screwed everything up?
โ€œIโ€™ve got it.โ€
He grabs your box in one hand and his own in the other, taking a deep breath before he pushes the door open with his hip. You're sitting there, arms crossed over your chest and nails between your teeth. A nervous habit of yours.
You look up, clearly expecting Robin, but your gaze immediately hardens once you realize itโ€™s him. You push your chair out from under you harshly, it screeches across the floor as you do. You grab your jacket that hangs on the back of it and go to walk past him, but he blocks your path. โ€œI brought you something to eat.โ€
โ€œI said I wasnโ€™t hungry.โ€ You attempt to push past him, but he doesnโ€™t let you. Instead, he gives you that knowing, motherly look of his. The same one he used on Dustin Henderson when he babysat him junior and senior year. โ€œYou havenโ€™t eaten since noon, and,โ€ He glances at his watch, โ€œitโ€™s almost seven, Y/N. Pretend itโ€™s not from me, I donโ€™t care, just please eat.โ€
You're at a standstill for a moment, the both of you staring at each other. You know Steveโ€™s right, but you hate it. It makes you feel nauseous that he knows you so well.
Finally, after much hesitation, you finally sit back down in your chair. Your arms are still crossed and youโ€™re refusing to look at him, but Steve can breathe easy knowing heโ€™s finally getting at least something from you.
He sits across from you and slowly slides your box over to you, which you open lazily.
You wanted to yell at him to go - to leave you alone to eat in peace - but it almost felt nice to feel his presence again. If you focused on it long enough, you could almost pretend it was still that blissful time before senior year. When everything had been perfect.
Steve watches as you open the box and inspect the food carefully. He can tell by the way your eyes widen slightly that youโ€™re surprised by what you see.
โ€œIs this..โ€ You trail off, heart constricting in your chest.
He nods, โ€œYou really thought I wouldnโ€™t remember what you like? Please, give me a little credit.โ€ He teases.
You never even knew he had it memorized.
A ghost of a smile plays on your lips, head flooding with memories of late winter nights spent at Bennys with Steve.
You allow yourself to glance up at him, cheeks flushing when you find heโ€™s already staring at you. As soon as his eyes meet yours he smiles, a genuine, crinkle-at-the-corner-of-the-eye smile.
You eat in silence for the rest of your shift, but Steve doesnโ€™t care. Being with you is more than enough.
โฃ๏ธŽ
November, 1981
Sophomore year is difficult for you.
Your grandma died just three days before Halloween, and it hit you hard. Steve was with you nearly all the time, not even saying anything, just holding you as you sobbed.
He never quite knew what to say to make you feel better because none of his own family was in his life. As far as was concerned, you were the closest thing he had to that.
Today marked a full week since your grandma passed, and youโ€™d just gotten home from the funeral. He could see you now through his window, laying on your back unmoving in your bed, black dress still heavy on your body.
Youโ€™re not even crying, just staring at the ceiling. Youโ€™d always heard that grief presented itself in thousands of different ways, but youโ€™d never been subjected to it yourself until now.
Memories of your grandmother and her infectious smile played on repeat in your mind, and sometimes if you focused hard enough, you could pretend she hadnโ€™t died.
Your eyes squeezed shut as you did so, replaying a memory of her from your eleventh birthday party. Youโ€™d been crying for some reason you canโ€™t even remember, and sheโ€™d stumbled upon you on the floor of your bathroom.
โ€œOh, Hunny, what happened?โ€ She cooed, closing the door and sliding down next to you. She winced as she did, her knees popping the whole way down, but she didnโ€™t complain. She just threw an arm over your shoulders and pulled you into her.
โ€œI-Iโ€™m scared.โ€ You whimpered, hugging your knees to your chest.
โ€œOf what?โ€
You sniffled and looked into her loving eyes, โ€œYouโ€™ll think itโ€™s silly.โ€
She chuckled, forehead wrinkling with the movement, โ€œNo, I wonโ€™t.โ€
You swallowed, scratching at your arm nervously. โ€œAre you sure?โ€
โ€œIโ€™m your grandma, Iโ€™d never laugh at you.โ€
You swallowed, letting your forehead hit your knees solemnly, โ€œI donโ€™t wanna grow up.โ€ You admitted.
She didnโ€™t say anything for a moment, which made you feel even worse. Getting older was natural and there was nothing you could do to stop it, but itโ€™d hit you that you were growing out of your childhood.
Youโ€™d never be as innocent as you once had been, and at some point in your life youโ€™ll never be mommyโ€™s little girl again. And you hated that you just had to accept that.
Your grandma sighed, fingers drawing shapes onto your arm, โ€œI know itโ€™s scary growing up,โ€ She murmured into your ear, โ€œbut itโ€™s also good for us. We learn more as we grow, and we get to experience so many new things. Take me and your grandpa for example, we met when we were twenty five. If I'd never grown up, I never would have met him and fallen in love.โ€
The mention of your grandfather put a smile on your face. He was a sweet old man with a dashing mustache and a love for your grandma so strong you could feel it without even knowing him.
โ€œI guess youโ€™re right.โ€ You sighed, laying your head against her side. She always knew how to make you feel better, it was like her special talent.
Thatโ€™s why her death hurt so much, because youโ€™d been talking to her less and less the older you got. It wasnโ€™t something you did purposely, but with the move and all the new things that were happening in your life calling her had just never been at the top of your list. Now you wish it had.
You donโ€™t even hear the knock in your door, you only notice Steveโ€™s there when heโ€™s scooting into bed next to you. You welcome him calmly, automatically falling into his open arms. He strokes your back comfortingly, leaving a soft kiss on your hairline. โ€œHowโ€™re you feeling?โ€
You make a noise in the back of your throat, a mix between a whimper and a groan that shatters Steveโ€™s heart. He hates seeing you hurt like this.
โ€œThat bad, huh?โ€ He mumbles, squeezing you closer against him.
You choke out a sigh, โ€œI just wish I wouldโ€™ve called her. I had every chance too and I never did. What kind of- of granddaughter does that?โ€ Your eyes are brimming with tears again, a sob tearing from your throat as you press your face closer into Steveโ€™s neck. He smells like home.
He doesnโ€™t mind that youโ€™re soaking through his white shirt, in fact he barely even notices. โ€œCโ€™mon, Sweetheart. There was no way you couldโ€™ve known, and blaming yourself isnโ€™t going to make you feel any better.โ€
โ€œI-I justโ€ฆ I just wish I wouldโ€™ve been better.โ€ You hiccuped.
Steve immediately shakes his head, โ€œNo, no,โ€ He stands and takes your hand, gently forcing you to your feet, โ€œYouโ€™ve gotta get outta here, no way staying in this room all day is healthy for you.โ€
You sniffle and glance around your bedroom. Its usual warmth feels cold and empty.
โ€œWhere would we go?โ€ You ask, gazing at Steve as he wipes your tears with his thumbs. โ€œAnywhere.โ€
That's how you ended up at Bennys. Steve had recently gotten his license so you no longer had to bike everywhere.
The cloudy sky combined with the glaring overhead lights must wash you out, but Steveโ€™s not sure youโ€™ve ever looked prettier. The black dress compliments you perfectly, and call him selfish, but he thinks the glossiness in your eyes accentuates them so nicely.
You solemnly drink a sprite, biting on the straw occasionally and leaving a permanent indent in the plastic.
Youโ€™d heard of Bennys, apparently it was a Hawkins staple, but youโ€™d never been yourself before now. For how popular it apparently was, it's not very busy, just a few stragglers.
You can see the chief of police, Jim Hopper, and a few of his cop buddies in one corner, a couple in a booth across from them, and two old fishermen at the bar.
โ€œIโ€™ve never been here before,โ€ You murmur, watching as Steveโ€™s head lifts from the menu to look up at you. โ€œIโ€™ve only been once with Tommy and Carol,โ€ He says their names with so much disgust it nearly surprises you, โ€œand it was really good.โ€
You knew Steve wasnโ€™t the biggest fan of his friends, which was still something you found pretty weird. Why be friends with them if you couldnโ€™t stand them? But you also understood Steveโ€™s situation. He had affirmed his status as King Steve at the beginning of the school year, when heโ€™d fought Mitch Mikealson and won. Ever since then heโ€™d gotten more cautious with being seen with you.
And, yeah, it hurts sometimes to see him pretend you didnโ€™t exist. Before, heโ€™d still give you the occasional wave or smile, but now he didnโ€™t even spare you a glance. But, youโ€™d always remind yourself it was fine, because only you got to have the real him. The soft Steve, whoโ€™s boyish charm and honeynut eyes made you melt everyday.
You let out a soft huh, glancing over the menu before finally deciding on something. A plain cheeseburger with a side of cheesy fries. How American of you.
After youโ€™ve given the waitress your orders, you both sit in a constricting silence. Steve isnโ€™t sure of what to say to you right now or even how to approach the obvious elephant in the room, but you could hardly even focus on that.
If thereโ€™s one thing your grandma's death has taught you, itโ€™s that you canโ€™t let time escape you. Youโ€™d pushed off calling your grandma for months, and then suddenly you couldnโ€™t anymore. What happens if you put off telling Steve how you feel for him, and then suddenly you no longer could? Would you feel regret like you do now?
You think youโ€™ve known Steve long enough now to decipher how heโ€™d react. A soft rejection, but without a loss of friendship. You think things would continue how they normally do - maybe a bit awkwardly at first but, still, as they normally do.
Then you consider the other option, which you thought to be the less likely one. On the off chance Steve does like you back, then your entire relationship would change. Would he kiss you in front of his friends? Scream from the rooftops that you were his and he was yours? Or would he hide you away, protect his reputation from your influence?
You werenโ€™t sure.
โ€œWhatโ€™s going on in that big brain of yours?โ€
You smile softly at the phrase, glancing up at him through your lashes. He's leaning onto his elbows on the counter, cheeks squished between his hands. You think he looks innocent like this, and a glimpse of his seventh grade self flashes in his eyes, a time before King Steve even existed.
โ€œJustโ€ฆ thinking.โ€ You murmur, playing with your fingers in your lap.
Steve frowns, assuming youโ€™re talking about your grandma, and he says, โ€œIโ€™m really sorry, Y/N. You know I'll be here for you every step of the way, right?โ€
You warm at his words, stomach twisting in knots. โ€œI know,โ€ You breathe, โ€œweโ€™re best friends. We have to be there for each other.โ€
Steve's heart constricts at the phrase. Best friends. Was that what heโ€™d always be to you? He wants to be so much more - he wants to sweep you off your feet, show you just how much he loves you. If real love is something teenagers canโ€™t experience, then heโ€™s not sure he ever wants to, because whatever it is heโ€™s feeling for you right now is practically engulfing him whole.
โ€œYeah,โ€ He smiles weakly, โ€œBest friends.โ€
Your eyebrows knit at the solemn look on his face, watching as he swishes the straw in his drink with his fingertip.
โ€œSteve-โ€ You begin, but the waitress is approaching you with your food before you can finish. Steveโ€™s grateful for the interruption, not sure if heโ€™s ready to answer whatever it was you were going to ask.
He distracts himself with his food, and you do the same. You're not sure why, but something about the way Steve said best friend made you feel uneasy. Did he not think you guys were? Or did heโ€ฆ did he want something else?
You blink the thought away, forcing yourself not to think of it.
Butโ€ฆ what ifโ€ฆ
You think of your grandma, how the regret of not calling her filled your entire body until you could barely breathe. Did you want that to happen with Steve? No, you didnโ€™t. So there was only one solution.
The moon is up by the time you get in the car, and you allow Steve to drive you to your spot.
The hilltop where you first rode your bikes to last year had become almost like a comfort place for the both of you. You went anytime either of you were upset, and you always sat in the same positions. You, with your hands laid comfortably on your stomach and him with his hands behind his head. It was basically a routine at this point.
But, tonight, itโ€™d be different. Because you were either about to ruin your friendship with Steve forever, or start something youโ€™d never be able to turn away from.
Youโ€™re both silent, but while Steve seems peaceful, youโ€™re anything but. Your mind is running wild with what-ifs, and you anxiously chew on your bottom lip. Just do it, you think, just do it.
โ€œSteve?โ€ You mumble, placing your hands behind your back and sitting up. Steve follows your lead, an eyebrow raised as he does. โ€œYeah?โ€
You squeeze your eyes shut and pull your knees into your chest, dress riding up until its hem is at the middle of your knees. โ€œIf I.. If I tell you something, you promise you wonโ€™t judge me? And- and nothing will happen to our friendship?โ€
He laughs nervously, โ€œWhatโ€™re you talking about?โ€
Just do it, you chant in your mind, Just do it.
You suck in a breath, โ€œI love you. A lot. Like- more than I think should even be humanly possible, and I think I always have. Itโ€™s like- like this weight in my chest everytime I see you, you know? Because youโ€™re you and I'm, well, I'm just me. And I tell myself thereโ€™s no way you could ever love me back but then you started acting all weird in the diner and I just- I had to know.โ€ By the end of your rambling youโ€™re panting softly, refusing to even look at Steve. You're too afraid of what you might see.
But Steve feels as if an angel herself has just blessed him. You love him?
You love him?
He feels too shocked to even move, heart practically beating out of his chest as he stares at you. The moonlight brings out your features so nicely, and your lips just look so- so kissable.
Itโ€™s crazy. He knows it is. But heโ€™s waited so long, and heโ€™s not sure how many times he can imagine the softness of your lips before he needs to feel it. So he does.
He connects his lips with yours so fast you barely even register it. Itโ€™s a soft peck, barely even a kiss really, but itโ€™s perfect to you.
He pulls away quickly, hand on your cheek as he stares into your eyes. Only half of his face is visible in the darkness, but itโ€™s enough for you. Because youโ€™re plunging back in like youโ€™ve been starved.
Itโ€™s messy, with clattering teeth and wandering hands. You find purchase in his hair, tugging slightly, and he lets you, groaning slightly at the feeling. His hands ghost of your waist nervously, and you reach down and place them comfortably on your hips.
It should be sinful how good he tastes - like strawberries eaten next to the pool on a warm summer day. โ€œS- Steve,โ€ You gasp between his lips, barely able to get the word out before heโ€™s immediately diving back in.
You indulge in it for a few seconds more, before youโ€™re gently pushing him away from you. He pulls back completely, removing his hands from your waist in a panic, โ€œWhatโ€™s - Whatโ€™s wrong?โ€ He pants.
You shake your head, assuring him itโ€™s nothing like that. You take a breath, โ€œWhat doesโ€ฆ does this mean that you..?โ€
Steve has a big dopey smile on his face, tucking a peice of hair behind your ear, โ€œThat I love you?โ€ He mumbles, โ€œBecause I do. So much. More than I think youโ€™ll ever know.โ€
Itโ€™s those words that confirm what youโ€™d thought for the past two years. Steve is your soulmate, someone you were always meant to find. Suddenly, youโ€™re thankful for the move. Something that had once seemed life ruining has been the opposite - it brought you to your reason for living.
โ€œThen what does this mean for us?โ€ You question.
Itโ€™s then that Steve realizes this might not be all great like he thought it would be - because Tommy and Carol were still in the picture. He couldnโ€™t just walk into school holding hands with you as if they hadnโ€™t spent every waking day making fun of you. He never joined, always choosing to stay silent during their tangents, but he never stopped them either.
He swallows, studying your face. Would loving you be enough for him? Could he throw it all away, the parties, the friends, the popularity - if it meant heโ€™d be able to be with you?
Heโ€™s not sure.
But what if he can have both? The popularity and you. Heโ€™d just have to keep your relationship a secret just like you had been doing for years, it was that simple! But, he doesnโ€™t want to ruin the moment with you right now and get into that. So instead, he kisses you slowly again and murmurs, โ€œWe'll figure it out as we go.โ€
โฃ๏ธŽ
July, 1986
Itโ€™s been two weeks since what you called The Tolerable Act. AKA, the day Steve Harrington brought you food and also made himself more tolerable.
You wouldnโ€™t be going out of your way to talk to him, but if he approached you you no longer ran. Your responses were always short - but they were responses. Baby steps.
Today, when you walk into work Steve is already there stacking books and organizing shelves. His eyes are almost immediately drawn to you, and not just because he loves seeing you - no, this time, he notices something.
He thinks his heart drops into his stomach for a moment once he sees the guy with you. You're all smiles and giggles, playing with the hem of your lacy white shirt.
Jason Carver stands casually in the doorway, arm thrown above his head as he leans over you. Steve canโ€™t see what heโ€™s saying from here, but whatever it is, itโ€™s making you blush.
Steveโ€™s not even sure what comes over him - but heโ€™s dropping the rest of the books he was organizing messily onto the shelf and speeding over to you before he can even think it through.
Jason notices first, his eyebrows furrowing as he eyes him. Steve gives a tight lipped smile, brown eyes darting between you and Jason.
Steve never really disliked Jason - he was a nice guy. A little pushy at times, but overall he didnโ€™t seem too bad. But, now, watching Jason flirt with you like he knew anything about you made Steveโ€™s stomach twist in the worst way.
Jason didnโ€™t know you. He didnโ€™t know anything about you! Steve knew it was selfish of him to expect you to be hung up on him forever like he was hung up on you, but did you have to bring Jason here?
โ€œHarrington,โ€ Jason said sultry smooth, bringing his arm down and stuffing his hands into his varsity jacket. Heโ€™d graduated last month and was still wearing that thing? Steve thought that was a douchey move. โ€œI didnโ€™t know you worked here.โ€
Steve hummed, โ€œStarted a couple weeks ago.โ€
Jason smirked, โ€œStill working at dumps like this place, huh?โ€ He joked. Steve could see the intentions behind what he said - they were a poke at Steve still living with his parents and not making it into college. He glances at you, but you donโ€™t say anything, instead choosing to keep your eyes on the carpet.
โ€œStill wearing your highschool jacket in public, huh?โ€
Jasonโ€™s gaze hardened just barely, enough for you to not notice, but Steve did. They both just stared at each other for a few moments, almost like they were challenging each other.
โ€œJason -โ€ Both boys tore their gazes away from each other and onto you, โ€œIโ€™ll see you tonight, okay?โ€ You usher, silently pushing him out. Jason bent down to kiss your cheek, eyes never leaving Steveโ€™s as he did.
Once he was gone, you turned around and tried to make your way past him to clock in, but Steve stopped you. โ€œJason Carver? Really?โ€
Your nostrils flared, eyebrows knitting together as you gave him a harsh glare. โ€œWho I talk to isnโ€™t any of your business anymore.โ€
โ€œThat guys a total asshole!โ€
โ€œAnd you arenโ€™t?โ€ You retorted, โ€œIโ€™m not sure if you remember, but let me remind you that-โ€
He cuts you off with a sigh, large hand running through his hair. His shirt rode up as he did, and you had to force yourself not to look at his tanned skin. โ€œI remember.โ€ He mumbled, โ€œBut, at least I've tried to better myself. Jason hasnโ€™t! And he doesnโ€™t deserve you, youโ€™re so much better than he ever will be. I canโ€™t believe you donโ€™t realize that.โ€ He took a breath, studying your face.
Jealousy is something Steve wasnโ€™t used to feeling when it came to you. Heโ€™d always known that you were his and he was yours, and nothing would ever change that.
But, watching Jason Carver pull all those little giggles and shy smiles out of you that he used to - it hurt more than he liked to admit. His dad would tell him to: โ€œgrow up, she's just some girl after all.โ€
But you arenโ€™t. Steve doesnโ€™t think you ever were.
โ€œStop doing that!โ€ You choke out. Youโ€™re more than fed up โ€œStop pretending that youโ€™ve changed and that everything is- everything is fine! You played me for years, Steve. And as soon as I'm back together again you just show up here and remind me why I-โ€ You pause, eyes going glassy and nose turning a shade of red, โ€œwhy I canโ€™t love you anymore. And it hurts - God, it hurts - but, I wonโ€™t allow myself to fall apart like I did again. And Jason- Jason likes me. I know he does. So donโ€™t fucking ruin this for me.โ€
Steveโ€™s silent, arms crossed over his chest as he processes your outburst. He knows he deserves it and itโ€™s something he thinks he needs to hear, but that doesnโ€™t make it any easier. You played me for years, Steve. Did you really think that?
Still, against his better judgment, he watches you as you turn your back to him and stomp into the back room.
You finally let out the sob you were holding in as soon as youโ€™re out of sight, back hitting the cold stone wall. You hate him. Him and his stupid, stupid face and his horrible jokes. You hate that he can make you feel so many inexplicable things with just one sentence - He doesnโ€™t deserve you.
If Jason doesnโ€™t deserve you, then who does?
You avoid Steve your whole shift, and itโ€™s easy, because Steve avoids you too. Robin called out sick which meant it was just the two of you and that made things so much worse.
You can feel his gaze lingering on you every time the clock ticks closer to your date, and it sends a shiver up your spine each time. If itโ€™s because of your nerves about seeing Jason again or your undeniable longing for Steve, youโ€™re not sure.
Once Jason arrives, Steve watches from behind the counter as you take Jasonโ€™s hand and let him lead you to his car, a toothy grin highlighting your face.
He sighs, crossing his legs where he stands and leaning onto his forearms. He feels helpless, like heโ€™s an onlooker in his own life, watching you pull farther and farther away from him and not being able to do anything about it.
Jasonโ€™s car pulls away, and you watch as Bookish disappears from your line of sight. It feels foreign - leaving Steve behind to go with another guy. If youโ€™d told yourself two years ago this was what your relationship would become, you never wouldโ€™ve believed it.
โ€œSo, whatโ€™s the deal with you and Harrington?โ€ Jason asks, stealing a glance at you.
You chew on your lip, cherry chapstick lingering on your tongue. โ€œWe used to be really close, but we kinda justโ€ฆโ€ You swallow and play with your fingers in your lap, โ€œgrew apart.โ€
Jason hums, fingertips drumming against the wheel as he drives. โ€œYou guys seemed more than close back there.โ€
Youโ€™re stumped. You canโ€™t understand why Jason is so interested in this topic, which is something you really donโ€™t want to talk about with him, and understandably so. You think up a quick excuse, โ€œHeโ€™s just protective.โ€
He scoffs out a laugh, โ€œProtective? No, it was more than that. It was like he- he loved you or something.โ€ He says it like thereโ€™s no way that could be true. Like The Steve Harrington couldnโ€™t ever love a girl like you.
โ€œI donโ€™t know. Maybe. Can we talk about something else, please?โ€
Jason doesnโ€™t say anything and just drives silently. Heโ€™d told you he was taking you somewhere special but didnโ€™t specify after that - and as you watch him drive deeper and deeper into the woods youโ€™re beginning to get nervous.
He parks next to Lovers Lake, turning in the radio and immediately shifting his seat back.
Youโ€™d heard stories of guys doing this - taking a girl out to hook up with and disguising it as a date.
He's leaning over right as you realize what this is, and you pull away quickly, head nearly hitting the window. โ€œJason, I thought we were going out?โ€
โ€œWe are. I just thought.. we could have fun first.โ€
You swallow. This was wrong, you knew it was. Didnโ€™t you deserve to go on a real date like other girls do? What made you so different from them?
Butโ€ฆ Maybe this was a real date. Maybe this was what other girls did. And if that was true, shouldnโ€™t you indulge? Youโ€™d always been aware your relationship with Steve was different than most other highschool relationships, so maybe you were finally getting a taste of the reality.
You kiss him first, practically surging forward. Itโ€™s hard and sloppy. Itโ€™s too much. Itโ€™s wrong.
You remind yourself that this is what real girls do.
You kiss him harder, holding back the whimper that begs to escape from your throat as he slips his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like cigarettes and mint - nothing like Steve.
He pulls you by your hips over the center console awkwardly, your legs banging against the dashboard as you move, but he never breaks apart.
You settle on his lap, letting him push and pull you anyway he wants. Heโ€™s in no way soft - wandering hands never asking for permission as he slips them under your shirt. This is wrong, this is wrong, this is wrong-
โ€œJason-โ€ You breathe between his hungry lips, attempting to push away, but he grabs the back of your neck and forces you against him again. Your hands push at his chest hard, and heโ€™s so shocked he lets you go.
โ€œWhatโ€™s your problem?โ€ He pants, eyebrows knitted together.
You want to sob- because what the hell are you doing? Kissing Jason Carver in his car in the middle of nowhere? This is wrong. If this is what other girls do, then you donโ€™t want to be like them.
โ€œCan we-โ€ You suck in a breath, shifting uncomfortably on his lap, โ€œCan we just take a break? Maybe actually talk and try to get to know each other?โ€
He stares at you coldly for a few moments, blue eyes searching your face for something youโ€™re not sure of. Then heโ€™s laughing - as if youโ€™ve said the funniest thing in the world. His chest convulses as he does, and he attempts to kiss you again but you pull away.
His laughter immediately stops and his face contorts into anger, his nostrils flared. โ€œAre you kidding me?โ€
โ€œJason-โ€ You attempt, but heโ€™s pushing you off of him before you can get the word out. You land in the passenger seat uncomfortably, legs at an awkward angle but you feel too unnerved to move.
โ€œYou came onto me first!โ€
He was right, you had kissed him first. It was your fault he thought heโ€™d be getting something else tonight. โ€œI know and iโ€™m sorry, but-โ€
He cuts you off with a laugh, tongue running over his teeth like a hungry animal. โ€œI mean- thereโ€™s no way youโ€™re being serious right now, right?โ€ He asks, โ€œWhy the hell do you think I brought you out here? To talk? I thought you were smarter than that.โ€
Your eyes go wide, jaw hanging open as you process his words. Had you really been so stupid?
He points an accusing finger at you, โ€œIf you think any guy is going to want you beyond just fucking you then youโ€™re in for a treat. Now get the fuck out of my car.โ€
โ€œJason-โ€
โ€œGet out!โ€
So you do. You stumble a bit as your feet hit the grass, barely having any time to close the door before heโ€™s speeding off.
The tears come before you can stop them, arms wrapping around yourself as you stare out into the lake.
The water makes the air feel cooler, so goosebumps form across your skin and cause a shiver up your spine. You donโ€™t know how to get home from here - or to the bookshop. But there is one place you can think of.
You're not sure how long you walk, you just know by the time you reach the hill your feet hurt and your calves feel practically numb.
You collapse onto the grass with a soft groan, immediately hugging your knees to your chest. The tears had long since stopped and were replaced with occasional hiccups, eyes glassy but the tears never falling.
You stare up at the sky, finding comfort in all of the familiar constellations. Lately theyโ€™d been the only constant thing in your life, the one thing you knew would always be there and would never go away.
You hate that Steve was right more than youโ€™d like to admit. He doesnโ€™t deserve you, youโ€™re so much better than he ever will be. What right did he have to say something like that to you? It makes you almost nauseous.
Steve Harrington had become something of an anomaly to you over the past year. Youโ€™d been told thousands of times that heโ€™d changed by Robin - hell, Steve himself had been making an effort to show you that heโ€™d never make the same mistakes he had again, but it was like you couldnโ€™t accept it.
Your heart had subconsciously built up brick walls to protect yourself from ever being hurt like that again, and any mention of Steve Harrington threatened to tear them down.
You sigh, forehead dipping down to rest on your knees. Youโ€™re not sure how youโ€™re going to get home, but right now itโ€™s the last thing in your mind.
โ€œY/N?โ€
Youโ€™re head shootโ€™s up, neck craning to see the eyes of the person in front of you.
It doesnโ€™t surprise you once you realize itโ€™s Steve, because who else would be out here this late?
โ€œHi.โ€ You mumble, head immediately going back to lay on your knees comfortably.
He sits down next to you cautiously, plastic bag falling next to him as he does. He subconsciously makes sure to leave enough distance between the both of you so he doesnโ€™t scare you off. โ€œWhereโ€™s your date?โ€
You close your eyes, breaths coming in shallow as you shift uncomfortably. Your head lols lazily to the side, allowing yourself to get a full view of his face. His eyebrows are raised and his arms are behind him and holding his torso up.
โ€œProbably out being a douche somewhere.โ€
He chuckles, โ€œThat bad, huh?โ€
You nod, a soft smile playing on your lips. โ€œDefinitely wasnโ€™t the best date ever.โ€ Not like you had many to compare it to.
โ€œI wonโ€™t say it even though I really want to- but just know iโ€™m thinking it really, really hard-โ€
You roll your eyes, โ€œJust say it.โ€ You huff.
He doesnโ€™t hesitate, โ€œI told you so.โ€
You mentally conclude that Steve should not be allowed to be right ever. โ€œWhat are you doing here?โ€ You ask.
Steveโ€™s gaze falls to the grass below, throat bobbing as he swallows. โ€œI needed to clear my head.โ€
You hum in response and decide not to push it, instead letting your knees stretch in front of you as your hands fall behind you. Your eyes fall to the white Walmart bag next to him and you gesture to it with your head, โ€œWhatโ€™s in the bag?โ€
Steve reaches over and pulls out a six pack of cheap beer, the kind you drank when you were trying to get stupid drunk. โ€œI wasnโ€™t planning on having any company, so I hope sixโ€™s enough for you.โ€
You snort, watching as he rips one out of its packaging and hands it to you. You ignore the brush of your hands as you do.
It pops open loudly, and you immediately bring it to your lips, ignoring the burning in your throat as it slides down roughly. Steve does the same, and you both sit in a comfortable silence and drink your respective drinks.
Youโ€™re not sure if itโ€™s the alcohol, but you canโ€™t stop looking at him. Thoughts of how pretty he is run through your mind - but so do others. Like questions of how you became strangers who knew everything about each other so quickly.
โ€œDo you ever wonder about what things would be like if.. if we hadnโ€™t broken up?โ€ You question quietly, eyes lingering on the side of his face.
He doesnโ€™t move for a moment, lips thinning out into a line. He breathes in through his nose, โ€œSometimes I do. But every time I remember how things are between us I have to stop, because lying to myself almost hurts more than the reality.โ€
Your hands tighten into fists by your side, and you force back another gulp of the warm drink. โ€œHow did we even get here?โ€ You suddenly laugh out, โ€œIt doesnโ€™t even feel natural.โ€
Steve shrugs, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. โ€œHonestly? Iโ€™m not really sure. Sometimes it feels like one day I was waking up with you and then the next I wasnโ€™t.โ€ Well, technically that is what happened.
You're not sure if itโ€™s the alcohol that gives you courage, but you finally admit, โ€œSometimes I hate you for turning us into this.โ€ You mutter, โ€œSometimes I hate myself for not trying to fix it. But, sometimes I think that is how things were always going to turn out - that maybe we were never meant to be in each other's lives and we somehow screwed up Gods plans and this is our punishment.โ€
โ€œI donโ€™t think he means it as a punishment.โ€ Steve breathes, finally letting himself look at you, โ€œI think itโ€™s more of a lesson. A reminder, maybe.โ€
You snort, โ€œWell, I hate this lesson, and Iโ€™m ready for it to be over.โ€
โ€œMe too.โ€
You donโ€™t argue when Steve scoots closer to you so your legs are touching, shorts rubbing against each other awkwardly.
You and Steve share an actual conversation - one without any arguing or resistance from you. Itโ€™s a conversation like you used to have.
You donโ€™t argue when Steve offers you a ride home, showing that his beer is still half-way full. You donโ€™t argue when he tells you good night, in fact you bask in it.
That night when Steve goes to bed, he watches your light flick on and your shadow approach the window. You stand there for a while - contemplating he thinks - and he hopes that you do it. That you open the blinds and show him that everything would be okay again.
But you donโ€™t. You flick the light back off, and go to bed. Leaving the blinds closed.
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taglist: @stevesxwhore @billielourdslays @carinacassiopeiae
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idyllicwillowtree ยท 11 months ago
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God Eddie, You're So In Love With Me. (part 2)
Genre: Eddie Munson x Henderson!reader, fem!reader, angst/fluff, hurt/eventual comfort, friends to lovers
Summary: Being in Hellfire, youโ€™ve been exposed to your fair share of bullying. One day, Jason takes it a step too far.
Word count: 1.8k
Warnings: bullying, anaphylaxis, poisoning, no physical descriptions of Y/N so you donโ€™t have to look like Dustin, reader uses she/her, reader has a peanut allergy, swearing, angy Eddie, hospital
Authorโ€™s note: Thank you so much for the positive comments on part 1! I was feeling insecure about this fic so that was very nice y'all are so sweet <3
Enjoy!
Main Masterlist
Part 1
Eddie looked to you, hoping to see you looking up at him and smiling that way you do whenever he uses his renaissance voice. Instead he met your panicked eyes.
โ€œHey Henderson,โ€ Jason called from across the cafeteria. โ€œWhat happens now? Should we call an ambulance?โ€ Andy shoved at his shoulder playfully and chortled alongside Jason.
Panic gripped you as you connected the dots.
โ€œYeah,โ€ you wheezed, โ€œcall an ambulance.โ€ย 
All the Hellfire members whipped their heads toward you, witnessing an angry rash spreading across your skin and your breathing becoming audible as you tried to suck in as much oxygen as possible.
Eddieโ€™s heart clenched painfully as he looked down at you, remembering the severity of your allergy after Dustin explained it to him one time. Still, Eddie was taken aback by the speed at which your symptoms were progressing.
You reached a hand out to Eddie as the choked coughs took over. He ignored your hand in favor of catching your body before it hit the ground. With trembling limbs he carefully lowered you to the grimy tile of the cafeteria floor.
โ€œFuck,โ€ Eddie cursed, โ€œDustin! What do we do?!โ€
Dustin had froze. Panic set in as he watched his older sister struggle more and more to take in a full breath. A small crowd began to gather and the excited chatter of the cafeteria simmered into hushed whispers and gasps. Everyone was watching, and not in the way Eddie was used to.
โ€œHenderson!โ€ Eddie snapped.ย 
At that, Dustin went to work. โ€œMike, go call 911! Lucus, see if the nurse has an epipen. GO!โ€ The sheep dispersed. Dustin picked up your bag with trembling hands and began digging through your books and school supplies, searching for the epinephrine injector he swears you kept in there.
Eddie turned his attention back to you, trusting that Dustin had the rest handled. At the look of panic in your blotchy and swollen face he almost froze too. A chilling dread spread through his veins as you began clawing at your throat, doing everything you could to open your airways.ย 
โ€œHey, hey, hey, look at me princess. Youโ€™re gonna be alright, gonna be just fine, you hear me? D-Dustin will getchu your meds and youโ€™ll be good to go,โ€ Eddie rambled, trying to convince himself just as much. He gently cradled your warm face and stroked your hair to try and soothe you.
With every second passing you became closer and closer to death. Eddie looked up in desperation. His red-headed neighbor (Max, he thinks her name is) snatched the backpack out of a distraught Dustinโ€™s hands and turned it upside down, emptying its contents. Robin was there too and put a comforting arm around your brother while Max took over the search for the injector. Eddie was vaguely aware of a teacher trying to pry him off of you but heโ€™d risk getting expelled for shoving a teacher if it meant staying by your side.ย 
โ€œGot it!โ€ Max exclaimed, holding the orange and clear tube triumphantly. She slid to her knees on your otherside, not hesitating to jam the needle into your leg and holding it there.
Eddie flinched at the force it took to inject you. You took your first full breath, allowing him to take one as well. Your eyes were drooping slightly as the medicine was introduced into your system.
โ€œHey, there she is,โ€ Eddie said gently.
Your tired eyes met his and he couldโ€™ve sworn the corners of your lips twitched upwards.
The paramedics arrived and Eddie hesitantly let you go so they could treat you. It was a blur of navy blue and red as they hooked you up to numerous tubes and slid an oxygen mask over your head.ย 
You became slightly more alert at the sight of strangers surrounding you as the stretcher clicked into place, raising you a couple feet off the ground. You moved your head tiredly trying to catch sight of anyone you knew. Anyone to comfort you.
โ€œDustin, go with her,โ€ Eddie told the curly haired boy. He looked up at him with wet eyes that clenched at Eddieโ€™s heart. โ€œShe needs you, go on.โ€
Eddie watched the determination emerge on the freshmanโ€™s face as he walked through the paramedics declaring that he was your brother, allowing him to be by your side.ย 
Swallowing thickly past the dryness in his mouth, Eddie watched you get rolled out on the stretcher.ย 
He turned numbly to see that Lucas and Mike had returned and started digging through your lunch, in an attempt to find out what it was that couldโ€™ve caused your reaction. As the two predictably began to bicker, Eddie grabbed the cup of applesauce and slowly brought the spoon out. To his horror, he scooped out a few small round nuts mixed with the smooth texture of the applesauce.ย 
His darkened eyes snapped up, immediately finding Jason. He at least had the decency to look scared, his skin white as a sheet. True terror shining through as he came to realize the severity of what he did. He shook his head slightly, pleading with Eddie. For what, he wasnโ€™t sure. But he could give a shit.
The grip on the applesauce tightened, causing it to tremble, before he launched it in Jason's general direction. A fire of rage lit up Eddie's entire being, consuming any reason or restraint within him.
โ€œWhat the fuck is wrong with you?! You couldโ€™ve killed her!!โ€ Eddie roared, the words ripping from his throat like a thunderclap.ย  Every fiber in his being screamed for justice, determined to ensure that no harm would ever come to you again.ย 
โ€œI-I-I didnโ€™t thinkโ€ฆI didnโ€™t mean to-โ€ Jason blubbered.
โ€œNot good enough!โ€ Eddie snapped. He charged forward, driven by the need to avenge your pain. Just when he was closing the distance between them a thick arm wrapped around his upper body. โ€œLET ME GO!โ€
Eddie struggled against the firm grip that held him back from doing to Jason what he should've done a long time ago. If Eddie was strong enough, he could've saved you, stopped all of this bullying in its tracks before Jason had ever even looked in your direction. His strength never came from muscles or brute force, but from his angerโ€”the primal need to protect those he loved. He was so consumed by his rage that a red haze blurred his vision. Or were those his tears?
โ€œEddie, man, donโ€™t do this,โ€ Doug said, doing his best to calm his friend.
โ€œPlease,โ€ Eddie pleaded, losing some of his fight. โ€œJust let me go.โ€ย 
โ€œDude, if you get into a fight you wonโ€™t be able to see Y/N in the hospital,โ€ the bassist whispered in Eddieโ€™s ear. He looked over and saw Principle Coleman closing in on them, there wasnโ€™t much time left. โ€œWe can handle it, just go while you can.โ€
A wave of overwhelming frustration washed over Eddie as the struggle against Dougโ€™s hold diminished. Tears welled up in his eyes as his chest released his rage and tightened back up with helplessness and despair.
He didnโ€™t let it consume him though, taking off in the opposite direction of the principle, his sheep following close behind.
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When the van ripped into the hospital parking lot, Eddie finally took notice of how many stowaways he had. Lucas, Mike, Max, Robin, and even Nancy all burst through the double doors at the back of his skunky smelling van and made their way to the emergency room entrance.
Eddie was the first one through the doors, eyes scanning the waiting area for his curly haired friend. What he wasnโ€™t expecting to see was the one and only King Steve sitting with the boy.ย 
Steve noticed them first, taking the lead on letting them know whatโ€™s going on. He explained that youโ€™d be fine but the doctors are running some tests and getting you hooked up to the necessary machines. Itโ€™ll be a little longer before Eddie gets to see you with his own eyes.
Eddie turned on his heel and walked through the doors he just came through as Steve explained that your mom was called but was on a trip with her girlfriends and wonโ€™t be able to make it back until tomorrow.
The disinfected smell of the hospital only offered to heighten Eddieโ€™s desire for a cigarette. He finds solace in the only coping mechanism he has under his belt, even if he knew it was bad for him in the long run. The stress of the day weighed heavily on him as he leaned on the brick wall of the hospital outside. The familiar routine of lighting up offered a good distraction, the only way to momentarily ease his anxiety.
That was until your brother found him. He silently stood next to him, not feeling the need to fill the silence with anything but the gentle breeze and the birds chirping in the distance. But it made Eddie feel uneasy.
โ€œIโ€™d offer you a smoke, but I donโ€™t want to corrupt you more than I already have,โ€ Eddie said with a sad laugh.
Ignoring Eddieโ€™s comment, Dustin asked, โ€œyou remember that one time when Hellfire came over to my house for a session? When the theater kids needed the drama room at school?โ€
Eddie nodded his head slowly, releasing the smoke from his lungs as he did so.
โ€œI was still in middle school so I had only heard about you from Y/N. She had this weird way of speaking about you. It was in a way I had never heard her speak about anyone before.โ€
Eddieโ€™s heart punched against his ribs painfully, his insecurities taking over.
โ€œShe was nice enough to let me watch your campaign so I could get ideas for the campaign I was doing with Mike and Lucas, and our other friend Will. I think she regretted it because of the Reese's Pieces incident.โ€
Eddie couldnโ€™t help but start chuckling embarrassingly at the memory. โ€œGod, that was so stupid,โ€ he smacked his forehead in an attempt to stop his mind from reliving one of the most embarrassing moments of his life.ย 
-
The Hellfire members flooded into your home, bringing chips, candy, and drinks to share. Your first time hosting the club was going great, until Dustin noticed the bag of Reeseโ€™s Pieces in Eddieโ€™s hand.
โ€œMy sister is too nice to say anything but-โ€ Dustin started.
โ€œStop, Dustin-โ€
โ€œ-we canโ€™t have those in the house.โ€
Eddieโ€™s eyebrows pinched beneath his bangs, โ€œwhat? Why not?โ€
โ€œSheโ€™s allergic to peanuts.โ€
Before you could roll your eyes at your little brother and reassure him it was fine, Eddie turned and chucked the bag out your kitchenโ€™s open window leaving you standing there in shock and Eddie horrified by his own impulse.
-
โ€œI think thatโ€™s when she fell in love with you.โ€
Eddieโ€™s head whipped over to Dustin. The kid had the audacity to look smug after completely shattering his world view. His mind spun with the revelation.
Love, a word so potent, was now intertwined with his thoughts of your relationship. Eddie knew he liked you, a lot, but his brain never brought him to love. He replayed moments from your friendship in his head, searching for the signs, trying to decipher if Dustin was telling the truth. If the sentiment was truly real. A mix of surprise and uncertainty overwhelmed him, but there was also something warm and hopeful there. It was both exhilarating and terrifying.
He needed to see you and hear it from you directly. A million thoughts and memories raced through his mind, but one thing was clearโ€“he needed to be with you, to tell you how he felt.
part 3
tags: @beeblisss @fishwithtitz @leah-loves-lilies
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safk-art ยท 2 months ago
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Jason's first time playing DnD
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stablefuse ยท 9 days ago
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very belated xmas pocket elves and reindeer ๐Ÿ˜Š
๐Ÿ”ช๐Ÿ”ช๐Ÿ”ช ะฒ ะฒะบ ะฝะต ั€ะตะฟะพัั‚ะธั‚ัŒ๐Ÿ”ช๐Ÿ”ช๐Ÿ”ช
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harringroveera ยท 5 months ago
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โ€”Stranger Things edition
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harrywavycurly ยท 2 years ago
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โ€œWill you be my husband really quick?โ€: A fake marriage with Eddie Munson AU.
Part 2: Here
Part 3: Here
A/N: I have been wanting to write this prompt for a while and Iโ€™m glad yโ€™all want it too! Thereโ€™s gonna be a part 2 donโ€™t worry.
TW: Cursing and Eddie hits someone and this eludes that your ex wasnโ€™t the nicest.
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Eddie is two beers in on what he figured was going to be a normal Friday night at the Hideout when he feels a hand grip his arm as heโ€™s leaned over the bar grabbing a lighter from behind the stack of napkins and straws. He pauses his movements as he looks down at the hand thatโ€™s still on his arm and slowly his eyes move upward until they finally land on your face. He notices your eyes are wide and youโ€™re looking everywhere but at him as you scan the room as if youโ€™re looking for someone, Eddie just stands up straight and places the lighter on the bar next to his half empty beer.
โ€œWill you be my husband really quick?โ€ Eddie knows he must be hearing things as you finally make eye contact with him. He watches as you seem to visibly relax a bit as you stare at him with a hopeful look on your face. โ€œPlease?โ€ He doesnโ€™t know what it is about you but he feels like if he tells you no he might actually regret it so instead he takes a quick sip of his beer as your hand falls from his arm and before you can react heโ€™s draping his arm over your shoulders and pulling you into him.
โ€œWhoโ€™s the target?โ€ Eddieโ€™s voice is low and you can feel his breath on your neck as he whispers in your ear before placing a quick kiss to the side of your head, already playing into his husband role.
โ€œRed shirt by the door.โ€ You answer as one of your arms wrap around his middle, you feel Eddie lean away from you for a moment so he can get a good look at who youโ€™re talking about.
โ€œJason fucking Carver?โ€ You look up at Eddie who is glaring at the blonde haired man by the door and you feel yourself tense up as Eddie reaches for his beer so he can finish it off. โ€œHe your ex or something?โ€ Eddie asks as he places the now empty bottle on the bar and motions to the bartender for another one.
โ€œYeah heโ€™s uhm my ex.โ€ Eddie can tell by your tone of voice youโ€™re nervous and it makes him wonder what Jason did that caused the two of you to go your separate ways. โ€œIโ€™m sorry this is dumb I shouldnโ€™t have bothered you.โ€ You mumble as you try to move away from him but Eddie is quick to just pull you into him and wrap both arms around your shoulders making your cheek rest on his worn out Metallica shirt.
โ€œNow what kind of husband would I be if I let you storm off like that?โ€ Eddie begins running one of his hands up and down your back making you let out a soft sigh because for the first time in a long time you felt an odd sense of security and who wouldโ€™ve thought that of all places itโ€™s while wrapped in the arms of a stranger. โ€œIโ€™ve got you okay?โ€ You look up and Eddie is already looking down at you making you feel even more at ease because his eyes are soft and his smile is sweet as he looks at you.
โ€œOkay.โ€ Is all you can say making Eddieโ€™s hold on you tighten slightly as he leans down and places a small kiss to the top of your head in an attempt to help you relax a little more. โ€œUh so whatโ€™s your name?โ€ Eddie laughs as he looks towards the door to check on the location of your ex.
โ€œMy name is Eddie.โ€ You just nod and tell him your name in return as your hands somehow find their way into his back pockets as you wrap your arms around his waist. โ€œI can see my wife is a little handsy huh?โ€ You hide your face in his chest as you try to slide your hands from his pockets. โ€œItโ€™s okay sweetheart weโ€™re married remember? No need to be shy.โ€ You canโ€™t help but laugh as Eddie goes back to running his hands up and down your back.
โ€œSo how do you know Jason?โ€ You feel Eddie tense up at the mention of your exโ€™s name and it lets you know whatever memories Eddie has of him arenโ€™t good ones.
โ€œHe was my high schoolโ€™s official asshole.โ€ You look up and rest your chin on Eddieโ€™s chest as you watch his eyes look towards the door of the bar. โ€œI take it he hasnโ€™t changed much?โ€ He asks as he looks down at you with a raised eyebrow making you look away as some memories of your relationship with Jason reply in your head.
โ€œYeah he hasnโ€™t changed.โ€ Eddie doesnโ€™t miss the way your voice shakes a little as you answer his question.
โ€œI can kick his ass right now if you want me to sweetheart just say the word and heโ€™ll be on the ground.โ€ You may not know Eddie but something tells you heโ€™s not kidding and that heโ€™d get a lot of joy out of beating Jason up. โ€œLet me add that I feel that since Iโ€™m your husband itโ€™s kinda my job to beat up your asshole ex boyfriends.โ€ Eddie smiles to himself when he hears you laugh and just shake your head at him.
โ€œAs your wife itโ€™s kinda my job to keep you out of trouble.โ€ Eddie lets out a dramatic huff as he drops one of his arms from you so he can reach over and grab his beer and take a long swig from it. โ€œI uh like your rings.โ€ Eddieโ€™s eyes flicker down to yours as he watches you give the rings on his hand thatโ€™s holding his beer a good once over.
โ€œYeah? Which one is your favorite?โ€ He asks as he puts his beer on the bar so he can let you get a better look at his rings. You unwrap your arms from around him so you can take his hand in yours, Eddie tries to ignore how soft your hands feel as you look at his rings giving a lot of attention to his skull one. โ€œYou like the skull?โ€ You just nod making Eddie smile because the skull one was also his favorite.
โ€œWhat are you doing?โ€ Eddie ignores your question as he brings his hand up to his mouth and you feel your eyes go wide as you watch him take his skull ring off and hold it between his lips for a moment before grabbing it. โ€œI canโ€™t take this.โ€ Eddie rolls his eyes as he gently grabs your left hand so he can slide the ring onto your ring finger.
โ€œHow are you supposed to be my wife without a ring?โ€ Eddie asks as he reaches over and tucks some of your hair behind your ear.
โ€œYouโ€™ve got the be fucking with me.โ€ You feel your heart drop to your stomach as Jasonโ€™s voice fills your ears. Eddieโ€™s arm drops from around you so he can turn and block you from Jasonโ€™s view. โ€œNot the freak still hanging around the Hideout.โ€ You see Eddieโ€™s hands form into fists as Jason laughs his almost evil sounding laugh.
โ€œFuck off Carver donโ€™t you have a ball to go toss into a basket or something?โ€ You giggle making Jason move so he can get a look at you, Eddie is quick to move so heโ€™s still standing between you and the ex jock.
โ€œWhat the fuck is going on?โ€ Eddie looks at you over his shoulder making sure youโ€™re okay and you just give him a reassuring smile as you place your hand on his lower back.
โ€œJust enjoying a night out with my wife.โ€ Jasonโ€™s eyes go as wide as golf balls as Eddie explains what the two of you are doing at the Hideout.
โ€œYour wife? Wow okay I mean even youโ€ฆMunson the town freak can do better than her sheโ€™s-โ€ Jason doesnโ€™t get to finish his sentence before Eddieโ€™s fist collides with his cheek knocking him to the ground.
โ€œNext time you think about saying anything about her,โ€ Eddie kneels down as he speaks so heโ€™s only a few inches away from Jasonโ€™s face as he groans in pain. โ€œDonโ€™t.โ€ He spits as he stands up and turns so he can grab your hand and walk you towards the back of the bar. โ€œIโ€™m sorryโ€ฆI am so sorry.โ€ You just shake your head as Eddieโ€™s hands gently cup your face as he looks you over to make sure youโ€™re okay because heโ€™s never gotten into a fight before let alone knocked someone to the ground and thatโ€™s the last thing he wanted you to have to deal with tonight.
โ€œItโ€™s okay.โ€ You reassure him as you place your hands over his that are still on your face. โ€œThank you.โ€ Eddie just shrugs as he gives you a small smile.
โ€œLike I said itโ€™s my job as your husband to beat up your asshole ex boyfriends.โ€ You laugh as Eddie leans in closer, he pauses as he get a few inches from your face. โ€œIs it okay if I kiss you?โ€ Eddie doesnโ€™t have to wait for your answer because your lips are on his in a mater of seconds for a sweet kiss.
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dwobbitfromtheshire ยท 2 months ago
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Pre-season 4, maybe season 4 au-ish.
Jason and his friends are assholes but imagine if there were jocks who finally found the courage to stand up to those assholes and reveal that they actually like Eddie.
"He's not afraid to be himself!" One would say.
"He gives those kids a place to belong!" Another would say as they mutter in agreement.
"Dungeons and Dragons is just a game like basketball!"
"Yeah!" They agreed.
"And he's actually pretty fucking gorgeous!"
"Yeah - wait, what?"
"You don't think so?"
"You know, now that you mention it - yeah, he is pretty. It's his eyes."
"No, man, it's his hands. He's got great hands."
"No, no, no. It's his lips."
"His hips, definitely his hips."
"No, man, it's soul. It's so fucking beautiful."
"What the hell is happening?" Jason scowled.
"I like the way that he somehow reminds me that I like men and women."
"He makes me question my gender," one cheerleader said.
"These freaks are gay for the Freak!" Andy scowled.
"Damn straight, we are!"
"I don't know, I think they might have a point," Connor said, shoving his hands in his pocket.
"You're supposed to be on our side, Connor!" Jason spat.
Suddenly, it wasn't just the jocks. The cheerleaders started chiming in as well. Eddie, in the middle of it all, in the middle of cafeteria, witnessed it all.
"What the fuck is this?!" Eddie shrieked and then he stood up on the cafeteria table. "You don't have to but - raise your fucking hand if you secretly thought I was hot but were too afraid to say anything because of Carver?! . . . One, two, three - THAT'S A LOT OF HANDS! - JEFF?!"
"Chrissy! Put your hand down!" Jason told his girlfriend.
"I don't think I will!" Chrissy said cheerfully and then flipped Jason off.
"NANCY WHEELER?!" Eddie shrieked.
"I have eyes, don't I?" Nancy asked.
"OTHER WHEELER?!"
"Dude, you have the same type in men as your sister," Dustin laughed.
"Ew, gross, Dustin!" Mike scowled.
"BUCKLEY, WHY IS YOUR HAND IN THE AIR?"
"Oh, no, this isn't for me. I went to the payphone and updated Steve," Robin said. "He said to raise my hand for him."
"Well, tell Steve to get in line. I call dibs," Chrissy said.
"You can't just call dibs on a person," Mike scowled.
"And you're way too young for him," Chrissy said. "Don't you have a girlfriend?"
"Don't you have a boyfriend?" Mike asked.
"Jason, babe, I don't think this is going to work with us," Chrissy said.
"You're dead meat, Munson!" Jason yelled.
"You know, I think I'm just going to - " Eddie said.
He managed to grab his stuff and run out of the cafeteria. The last thing he saw was the entire cafeteria blocking Jason's path to him. He drove all the way home and burst through the door of the trailer, startling Wayne. Eddie leaned against the front door, breathing heavily.
"Boy, you're home early. They messing with you again?" Wayne scowled.
"It's worse than I thought," Eddie gasped. "They're all secretly in love with me. . .I DON'T HAVE A FEVER, UNCLE WAYNE!"
"Lord. . .tell me everything. . ."
"I just wanted to fucking eat lunch. . ."
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lavenderstobins ยท 7 months ago
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jason carver, talking about robin buckley: i donโ€™t like her, chrissy. sheโ€™s gonna corrupt you, i can feel it
chrissy cunningham, fully intending to corrupt robin at the first opportunity: mhm
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californiaboytoybilly ยท 6 months ago
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stervrucht ยท 25 days ago
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Let's get weird, show me some Munver! I feel like the hatefucky vibes are so strong with those two and Jason would be so repressed
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How about some corruption by your local suspected satanist?
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