#my man has been robbed for like 3 seasons now

[apr1lias]

#FreeYukiTsunoda

[itsthecline]

the greatest chapter one

it girl!reader x drew starkey smau

summary you finally get home and see the overwhelming amount of support you’ve been getting

next chapter

yourusername posted photos!

liked by leahkateb , daniela.orti , serenaapagee and others

yourusername coming home to all of you blowing up my phone was the biggest weight off of my chest and i���m so happy to have all of you supporting me through my time in the villa. my heart is so so full of love for each and every one of you , so as a thanks , here’s a few pictures i captured

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username my queen has come home!!!! my east coast queen babygirl lovebug honey boo boo!!!

username stop ROB😭😭😭

username firm believer in you and rob coulda made it out alive had he not been a pussy ass bitch

leahkateb MY HEART💋💋💋💋

↳ yourusername i already miss you with everything in my body

username u and rob could have won it ALLL

username production did you and leah so dirty! i literally only watched for u, jana, serena, and leah<3

username meet y’all’s newest it girl

username you never didnt have our support babe

username i miss our man iggy😖

serenaapagee love you more than life🥹

↳ yourusername pls leave kordell for me

↳ korde1ll cmon now🤨

↳ yourusername 🙈

username i didn’t want this season to end bc i needed to see u happy

↳ username no seriously she looked so sad for the rest of the season after her and rob broke up

username soooooo does that mean you’ve seen the edits⁉️

↳ yourusername i see everything🩷

janacraig_ love youuuuuu

↳ yourusername 💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

username we needed more of ur face on our screens fr fr

robert_rausch i look good in the second one ngl

↳ yourusername the way you alr said that when i initially took the pic n showed u🙃

username ethan not being featured is SO real #teamleah

username you ate with telling rob to go choke queen!

yourusername tweeted!

since i’m all famous n shit now this is me shooting my shot with drew starkey: hi i love u pls marry me

20k replies | 9k retweets | 26k likes | 2k favorites

load replies

↳ username byeeeeeeee go get him girl

↳ username this is so real and feral of you

↳ username oh this was not on my 2024 bingo card

↳ madelyncline drewsephstarkey

↳ yourusername now why would you do THAT😭

↳ username if it’s not me im glad it’s u

↳ jdaviss28 drewsephstarkey

↳ yourusername fowl. absolutely fowl.

↳ username are my favorite universes colliding rn????

↳ username better than rob girl!

↳ drewsephstarkey hi

THIS TWEET HAS BEEN DELETED

an ahhhhh here we go

taglist @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account

[leclvrc]

european romance pt. I ♡ cl x reader

summary: being set up on a blind date might not be too bad after all

yourusername added to their story

deuxmoi added to their story

yourusername

liked by alexademie, bellahadid, isahernaez and 432.293 others

yourusername red is the color, red is the lover 🎶

view all 6.292 comments

yourbestie when the date lasts all day >

yourusername you get it 💓

ynfan ugh we we robbed of a full fit pic!!!

goddessy/n red is so stunning on her omg. her colour fr

liked by yourusername

alexademie love the suspense 🖤

yourusername you'll find out soon enough babe

carsandfashion am I reading this correctly.... isa liked this???

goatmilton ISA??

comments on this post have been limited

enews

liked by deuxmoi, ynfan, elleusa and 87.291 others

enews beloved it-girl off the market?? say it ain't so! y/n has been on everyone's mind lately. from being on the cover of vogue for the first time in her career, to making all of us run to the stores to emulate her style! but people are looking to her now as she teases us with brief glimpses into her new adventures in the dating world! who do you think has her so hooked?

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ynfan I'm scared that it's another fuckboy 😭 last time she went mia for five months, i can't take that again!!!

carsandfashion you're so real 🤣

yndefender look at herrrrr she's so pretty ❤ just gonna ignore the fact that those look like stalker pics

carsandfashion on my knees, begging her to date a nice boy this time around 😧

mabeljs anyone know the book she's reading... asking for a friend

babemisty whose house is she sitting in front of anyway 👀

liked by enews

elleusa

liked by vogue, yourusername, bellahadid and 291.201 others

elleusa in this months issue, we were able to capture @.yourusername in the streets of LA! she talks us through being THE it-girl of our time, blind dates and how scary dating can be after a long break and her very own street style fashion! make sure to pick up an issue whenever you can and visit us on our website to read the interview online.

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bellahadid cover girl ❤

yourusername soul sister ❤

yourusername thank you so much for having me @.elleusa! it was a pleasure and I must say, I look quite dashing on that cover 😉

liked by elleusa

zendaya a serve

ynfan the look and dress and attitude uhm MA'AM do u want us to die???

gossipblog stunning! but I'm way more interested in who she talks about in her interview 👀

yourbestie she came to kill 🤕

liked by yourusername

yourusername

liked by bellahadid, alexademie, elleusa and 593.291 others

yourusername when your date turns into an impromptu photo shoot <3

📸 my love

view all 5.921 comments

alexademie that for sure happens to all of us

yourusername I'll be your photographer next time 💕

ynfan MY LOVE PHOTO CREDIT??? WHO IS IT GIRL WHO

goddessyn SHE'S SO STUNNING!!!! ugh whoever it is is so lucky

liked by yourbestie

yourusername he sure is 😌

elleusa let us know next time you want to bring your own photographer 😉

goatmilton I'm fr so in love with her, but SPILL who is your man!!

yourusername added to their story

yourusername added to their story

charles_leclerc

liked by scuderiaferrari, carlossainz55, lewishamilton and 481.933 others

charles_leclerc off-season 🙌🏻

📸 ma belle

view all 8.281 comments

scuderiaferrari already counting down the days until the new season 😢

pierregasly mate you did more than just see your car and play piano 🤣

carlossainz55 does he send you pictures all the time too

tifosi16 charles goes mia since abu dhabi and then comes back to drop... two pictures

charleslechair MA BELLE???

honeybadger no exactly... i need all the details rn, like fr fr

charlos excited to have you back on track!!!!

yourusername

liked by zendaya, yourbestie, pierregasly and 422.290 others

yourusername european romance 💕

view all 3.291 comments

yourbestie you abandoned me here in sunny LA for THAT view? well suddenly I'm not mad anymore

yourusername girl 😭 I'm showing him that one

yourbestie ask him if any of his brothers are single

alexalvr where is @.charleslechair girl... doesn't he have two brothers?

charleslechair AND I STAY WINNING!

pierregasly visit milan if you can 🙌🏻

liked by yourusername

honeybadger ik pierre likes everything but telling her to come to MILAN?? nah she's fr fr with charles

ynfan ugh the fit.... and ig charles isn't too bad either

yourusername what's a charles?

ynfan MA'AM???

charleslechair what's a charles 😭😭 like half her comments aren't flooded with mentions of him

[badkitty3000]

What did you think was ooc for Five?

Great question, and I have already covered it a bit in my post here, but I could probably yammer on all day about it, so I'll add some thoughts.

Season 1 -3 Five was focused, determined, manic, arrogant, sometimes mean, violent, out-spoken, and full of love for his family above all. Yes, he insulted them and had no time or patience for their shit, but considering everything he'd been through and what he was up against, there was a reason for it. Season 4 Five? Ok, yeah, I can buy that maybe he was depressed and didn't really know what to do with himself anymore. Myself and others have certainly written him that way a few times. But, damn, he spent like all of season 3 bitching about wanting to be retired and here he could be! He could have played the stock market a few times, bought a little place somewhere, picked up a nice lady at the local Bingo hall and lived his peaceful live he deserved. Instead, he works (inexplicably) for the government and just wanders around with his sad little trenchcoat and CIA-issued pistol and flashlight, taking orders from The Man and just...existing I guess. I could see if they made it so that he joined the CIA to get inside info on Reginald and he had spent the last 6 years quietly plotting to take him down and get his revenge or set the world straight again. But no...he apparently hadn't even tried to look into anything Reggie was doing? Like he was just "*shrug*, it's probably fine".

Five loves his family above all else. We know this. If not, he wouldn't have spent decades alone fighting to get back to them and save all their stupid asses. Now, all of sudden, he just doesn't seem to care? Yes, he's present and has obviously kept in touch. He goes to the birthday party, etc. But there is zero interaction with Klaus, or his nieces, or even Viktor. When at the end, he finally gets some fight back (although for completely absurd reasons) and snaps at Luther, the whole family gasps in shock like this is some new occurence that Five would be mean to them. And he'd said much worse to them before! So, that leads me to believe he just has spent the last 6 years being a completely different person and everyone forgot he's actually an asshole?

And back to the family thing...fighting his brother over his wife? Falling in love with Lila, the same person who: conspired behind his and Diego's back in Season 2, was raised by his villainous boss, was the daughter of two innocent people he killed, tried to kill him with her fists, a frying pan, her feet, a knife, electrocution; and who he tried to kill multiple times as well. Yes, they have had time to heal some wounds and they have a shared traumatic experience with The Handler but come on...he would never! He would never be attracted to her that way. He would never betray Diego that way. And he certainly wouldn't fight him over her, not when she and Diego are married and have kids together. I don't care how many years they were together alone...just no. Best friends? Sure. Lovers? Fuck no.

Physically, where was his prowess? Five is supposed to be the all-time badass assassin, trained in martial arts and weaponry. His body is young at 19-20 years old, and at the peak of his physical fitness. Even without his powers he should be able to kick some ass, or at least try to. And then when he does have his powers, he just doesn't know how to use them correctly anymore? And again, he looks slow and weak in a fight. His solution to taking down the big Bennifer blob thing was to fire an entire clip at long range at it, and then just go "huh...weird that didn't work". Why wasn't he looking around the mall for a weapon? An axe? Something else to fight against it! That's what he does...that's his THING! We were fucking robbed of a Five-centric badass fight scene, when there were so many opportunities for one. Hell, he could have taken down a room full of Keepers with a fucking ballpoint pen while singing along to Abba's Dancing Queen! Why didn't we get that?

Meeting with Reginald. Remember in Season two when Five met with Reggie at the Tiki bar? He sat and had a drink with him, but it was still tension-filled with a lot of emotion there. Then in Season 3, when he was basically like "you're a sadistic lunatic that is going to kill all of us" and got right in his old man's face and told him he was a giant dick? This time...he's just standing around Reggie's house shooting the shit and not even acting like he's mad. That is just not the same guy. I realize this was supposed to be Viktor's fight with Reggie, but they still could have shown Five to have a little emotion there.

So, there you have it. I could probably keep going, but this is way too long as it is. It's just heartbreaking, really. This character that we have all come to love for all of his complexities and faults and heroics was just diminished to a one-dimensional, uninteresting character with no regard for his family. Basically, just undoing three season's worth of plot and character development. And it's not Aidan's fault. He did the best he could with the shit he was given, and I feel sorry for him. For as much as we love this character, Five was his. He made him come to life and there's not many other actors his age that could have pulled that off. So, I'm sad this was his end. They really did him dirty.

[coraniaid]

Anyway, here are seven episodes of Buffy which I'd have given Amy Madison a cameo in.

The goal isn't to change the plot of any of these episodes substantially or to change Amy's overall arc (such as it is). Rather the idea is to do just enough work to make Amy feel like a recurring character with the weight of, say, pre-S6 Jonathan Levinson or pre-AtS Harmony Kendall. Somebody who is stil clearly a minor character, but who feels a lot more thought out than Amy herself often does.

I think you can do that with just a few strategically chosen cameos. Here are my picks:

1) S1E12 Prophecy Girl

Prophecy Girl brings back Jenny Calendar (previously only seen in I Robot, You Jane) and the previous week Out of Sight, Out of Mind had brought back Harmony (previously only seen in The Harvest). Both Harmony and Jenny would go on to be popular recurring characters, and I think making a second appearance in the first season would do wonders for Amy as well.

While I'm at it, I'd slightly rework Cordelia's story this episode -- cutting out her doomed boyfriend Kevin, who replaces Out of Sight, Out of Mind's Mitch without explanation and will never be mentioned again; and the slightly uncharacteristic friendly way in which Willow and Cordelia treat each other this episode. In my version of the episode, it would be Amy who roped Willow in to help set up the sound system at the Bronze for the Spring Fling, and it would be some of Amy's friends that they found murdered by vampires in the Audio-Visual Club.

(I wouldn't rob Cordelia of any of her other scenes, of course: she'd still get to drive her car through the school halls and bite a vampire.)

I think adding Amy like this would serve to remind the viewer that (i) Amy exists; (ii) Amy and Willow are friends; (iii) even with her mother gone, horrible things keep happening to Amy Madison.

2) S2E01 When She Was Bad

Nothing fancy here; just a quick establishing scene at some point to remind us Amy still exists (in the same way Larry makes a cameo at the beginning of Season 3). Have her show up at the library and ask if any of the gang have seen Jenny Calendar, because she's meant to be teaching a class but nobody's seen her all day, maybe? Rather than the approach that canon takes, where nobody seems to realize Jenny has been kidnapped at all, even though we know she was captured at least a day before Buffy goes to rescue Cordelia (and the gang spend all of that day at school, where Jenny Calendar should be working...).

Again, the point of this addition is to mainly remind the audience that Amy exists, but we're also setting up the idea that Amy might eventually look to learn more than computer science from Ms. Calendar.

3) S2E06 Halloween

Just one scene here as well: Amy commiserating with Buffy and the others, and admitting that Snyder "volunteered" her to go out accompanying kids that evening as well. The point being that we see that Amy has dressed up as a witch for Halloween...

(We wouldn't see Amy again all episode, and we wouldn't know whether she got her costume from Ethan's, but down the line the idea that Amy might have gotten a bit of a head start as a witch from her experiences this episode -- in the same way Xander remembered some of his military knowledge -- could definitely be a fun fan theory.)

If anybody asks Amy if she's comfortable dressing up as a witch after what her mother did, maybe she can reference back to the attack on the AV club or Ms. Calendar being kidnapped and suggest that she knows now that there are worse things in the world than witches...

4) S3E02 Dead Man's Party

OK, if I were rewriting this episode I'd find it hard not to make bigger changes. At the very least, I'd want to have a few more scenes from the POV of characters other than Buffy (so that there's less of a sense of Buffy's friends all treating her horribly for no reason). And who better for Willow to be pouring her frustrations out to than her fellow fledgling witch Amy?

Give Amy a line about "missing Ms. Calendar too" as well, and Willow's final speech to Buffy about spending the summer "trying to communicate with the spirit world" take on an interesting subtext.

5) S3E09 The Wish

This is an interesting one because I'm half-convinced Amy was meant to be in this epsiode anyway. It's the only episode before Amy gets ratted in which she's mentioned on screen (Willow tells us that she's heard some gossip about Cordelia from Amy, which is -- in canon, anyway -- the first indication we get in the whole show that Amy and Willow have started hanging out).

I wouldn't be at all surprised if Nancy's role this episode (in the alternate Wish dimension) wasn't originally meant to go to Amy. That's how I'd play it, anyway. (Of course, if Buffy didn't come to Sunnydale she wouldn't have been around to save Amy from her mom. But I think that's easy enough to fix: just throw in a line about Amy being grateful to Giles and the other Whte Hats for "saving her" from some unspecific fate, and make sure to establish that this version of Amy can't do magic.)

Of course, this Amy would have the same fate as Nancy -- fittingly, killed by Willow -- but I don't think we'd need to have that happen off-screen the way it does in the actual episode.

6) S5E22 Grave

I really don't think Amy's abrupt descent into magical drug addict works ... well, at all. So I'd like to see a much bigger change to her arc after being de-ratted (something like @idle-flower suggests here, for example). I just don't think her villain arc this season makes any sense (and I know it robs Willow of a lot of the moral agency she should have at this point).

Failing that sort of change, though, I'd at least like Amy's mini-arc this season to .. resolve? She gets the door slammed on her face by Willow all the way back in Doublemeat Palace and then we never see her again. We don't even know if she's staying with her dad, or if her dad left town, or what. How is she surviving at all? At least throw in a scene of Amy discovering whatever's left of Rack and looking angry and vengeful about it, surely? Remind us she exists, and that things aren't going great for her.

7) S7E12 The Killer In Me

You might object to this one on the grounds that Amy is already in this episode.

The thing is though, I'm not sure that episode's writers remember that she is? Amy is outed as being responsible for Willow's predicament, Kennedy promises to stop her, Amy snaps her fingers -- teleporting Kennedy away -- and ... that's it. That's the last we hear from, or about, Amy Madison. Not just in the episode, but in the whole show. She doesn't suffer any consequences, she never gets a face to face confrontation with Willow, there's no obvious reason why she wouldn't be free to try again and again. Surely we can do better than that?

At least give us a scene of Amy fleeing Sunnydale ahead of the First's wave of destruction, or reacting to Willow getting her own body back. Something that we can pretend amounts to closure for a character who has, after all, been a part of the show since the third ever episode. Even if her continued appearance on the show, season after season, wasn't ever something the writers conciously planned.

[dreamingsnowflake2013]

The team of My Beautiful Man has done it again and delivered another sublime season of Hira and Kiyo’s love story. It all comes down to the fact that even after 3 years Hira is still Hira and Kiyoi is still Kiyoi and the show, despite its short running time, is wonderful at showing that personalities are deeply ingrained and not something that changes overnight or over a course of a few months. They have both made baby steps over the years at overcoming their shortcomings, Kiyoi has become more daring, trying hard to curb his own shyness and the resulting arrogant and cold behaviour, while Hira has dared to come out of his shell a little bit more, even his stammer has reduced, proving that they are indeed good for each other despite their flaws and insecurities. However, Hira’s tendency of self-loathing and inferiority complex is something he’s had for 20+ years and is an inherent part of him, it’s not something that would just miraculously disappear with the power of love. And My Beautiful Man portrays this painstakingly slow process and journey to change in a very realistic and authentic way. 

The beautiful thing is that Kiyoi doesn't even want Hira to change, he loves him the way he is which is really what the first episode was all about, that he sees past Hira’s awkwardness and sees how gorgeous Hira truly is, appreciates him and adores everything about him. 

He just wants to be loved by him, only by him, he is fine being worshipped by everyone else, and even though that worship had been what made him attracted to Hira, for a long time now, he has wanted to be Hira’s equal, giving Hira the time and space to slowly gain the confidence while he was trying to make himself more emotionally available and became softer so Hira would feel more comfortable with him. He’s been hoping for it with every fibre of his being for years and witnessing all his hopes dashed literally shatters him.

The confrontation scene in episode three is really a direct parallel to the emotional argument in season 1, two scenes which set up the climax of each season. All those little disappointments Kiyoi has been bottling up over time come to a breaking point.

It hurts even more because he's had expectations, the hope when Hira mentions he hated calling him ‘his friend’ lits up his whole face, expecting to finally get to hear from Hira what he's always desired and craved for so long, a love confession where he would admit them being lovers, equals, only to be disappointed and feeling gut-wrenching pain as the result. 

He swallows it at first despite the excruciating pain, like he must have done many times before, but Hira denying him to be part of his life, cutting him away from his parents, who Hira obviously loves in his own weird way judging from his story about the shrimp croquettes, which Kiyoi knows, it truly breaks him his heart, revealing that HE DOESN’T WANT TO MERELY BE HIRA’S LOVER, HE WANTS TO BE HIS FAMILY; something enduring and lasting, something eternal, wishing to gain what he had lost as a child and was robbed of when his mother found a new family and neglected him. 

He wants to by tied to Hira for life because whether you like ir not, family ties are unbreakable connections. He’s being seeking it for most of his life but Hira’s words make him realise Hira has been denying him that very thing and there is a part of Hira’s life he can’t be a part of; he feels sheer horror and heartache when he finds him he is still on the pedestal, stuck on the very same place where Hira had placed him 5 years ago and which he hates so much. Not a lover, not a spouse, not family member, only an untouchable rock, but rocks don’t have a heart to break nor do they weep like a willow when it’s shattering. 

And yet despite his words, in a beautifully symbolic gesture, Hira tries to touch his star and tries to wipe away his tears only for him to push him away now.

Finally, the director of My Beautiful Man is truly awesome at portraying all these emotionally-charged scenes and making them 100% authentic, it’s unreal how raw, intense and realistic everything feels, almost like a documentary where the audience is allowed a voyeuristic peek at a couple’s most intimate moments. 

There is no distracting music to destroy the moment, which is where most of Thai BL dramas usually fail and ruin the scene, here, the director lets the script and the actors do the talking and the result is simply beautiful.

[ataraxixx]

my piece on why i really like echo. i have ruminated a lot of these thoughts in my brain for awhile but i realized ive never actually made a public post abt it .. echoheads lets discuss extensively

see. i think we can all agree about the most common echo characterization. at least the one i usually see in fics? and generally most fan content. hes a happy-go-lucky guy whos a bit child-like or naive, very innocent and mostly just glad to be here and full of wonder and whimsy and etc. and also really loves zane and is very kind and sweet and etc.

i am not saying this is an incorrect characterization by any means . obviously. because hes literally got like 5 minutes of screentime and most of that is spent not talking so its really up to whoevers writing him how they want to take his character. but i also think that making him just. Fine with everything is a very underwhelming way to take his character. because he could be so much more than just. zane's brother who is innocent and silly. he can be innocent and silly and still have complicated feelings about his situation and existence yk.

i enjoy villain/antag echo bc it gives him a role in which to explore those complicated feelings as Himself. not as second fiddle to whatever zane is doing, but as a story of his own to come into his identity. because often times when hes included in fan content hes there just to be zanes brother and nothing else. which is so sad for him. because in canon thats all he ever was and all he'll ever be to his father. to zane. to the ninja. he's just the copy. the lesser version. he can never be his own self he will always be a derivative of zane.

like how is that not an interesting thing to explore. and how could we not think about the complicated feelings he would have about that. echo isnt stupid. he isnt incapable of having those kinds of feelings about his identity or role in the world because he is Literally Zane. he is programmed to be identical and he is in every facet of his personality and mannerisms a reflection of how zane was before he met wu/the ninja. when he was just a bit clueless about the world but not Stupid. just unknowledgable. and he was still capable of complicated feelings about himself because we see as early as episode 2 of season 1 he is wondering about himself and his role in the team and how he feels about the world. he isnt just content every day of his life to simply be there; he questions things and thinks about them deeply. why do fan creators often rob echo of this same capability and dumb him down to simply being child-like or incapable of complicated thought?

i always see him just. Fine with everything. and i dont think he needs to be a villain or evil or even violent to make him an interesting character. but i also think that anger and violence is a natural progression of the situation he has been put in by the doctor and by extension the ninja. they too do not regard him as his own individual, only as an extension of zane. which is literally crazy. because he is a whole ass person. they disregard his identity because its the same exact one as a person they already know; but he has no control over that. he didnt ask to be made as a copy of someone else, and now he exists, and he is forced to live knowing he was never his own person, even though he Is. Because he is Himself and he Exists and yet he isnt because his face doesnt belong to him and his voice doesnt belong to him and his name doesnt belong to him. the world decided he is someone else and he cant be who he actually is because someone else is Already him. like christ man. why are we sleeping on this and just making him like yayyy:3 im so happy i love everything or whatever. bro should be questioning his existence!

because i do think joining the SoG gives him such an excellent entry into both formulating his own identity while also paralleling harumi in an interesting way; for both characters in their attempts to create their own identities opposing the ones theyve been forced into, they end up only relating themselves to that identity anyway. in echos attempts to separate himself from zane he ends up relegating himself to hating zane because zane took something from him, an acknowledgement that he is a copy in the first place. their scrapped fight dialogue is so interesting guys. a discarded replica an experiment left to rust. should he not be upset that despite not asking to be made, much less in the image of someone else, he was left abandoned? that he was created solely to be hated by his creator for not being Someone Else? And now he is stuck always chasing after the shadow of that person because he was never meant to be his own person. only zane's copy. never as good as the original. and he has to live with that. its so devastating and good characterization and so interesting that i cannot pass up on it for simply having him be Guy Who is Happy and Innocent.

He is not stupid. He would definitely have less anger in his heart if the ninja got to him before Harumi did, but i think its so impossible that he can simply look at zane and feel nothing. that he can see the person who has cursed his existence into meaninglessness and just be like omg brother:3 because he is doomed to constantly be relegated to Zane's Brother and he will never be Echo to these people that call him a friend. He cant even use his own name he has to be Echo. because its someone elses name and not his even though it Is His its the name his father gave him. but hes not allowed to use it because hes not the original. and he is lesser. and he will always just be zanes brother and he will never be zane. and he will never even be echo. isnt that so fucked.

[stobinesque]

A Cure for All That Ails You 🥪

For Lex's Spicy Six Summer Challenge! Thanks so much for putting this together, @thefreakandthehair! rating: T | wc: 6k | cw: none | tags: Stobin, Fluff, Post-season 3 prompt: “How did you go through life so far without knowing how to make a grilled cheese sandwich?” I took inspiration from the recipe in this post when writing the fic. I have also been informed by my partner that reading this may, in fact, make you want a grilled cheese, so there's a recipe handy if you need to sate your hunger afterwards. [ READ ON AO3 ]

Light slants in through the window at too sharp an angle, and Robin blinks away the blurriness from her eyes. Her head is bent at an awkward angle, tucked into the crook of Steve’s neck. He’s snoring loudly in her ear.

Robin pushes herself upright on unsteady elbows. Most of the achiness in her muscles has faded by now. The worst of her injuries had been some whiplash, and the persistent ringing in her ears from the fireworks.

She looks down at Steve—his bruises are still healing, a mottled yellow-green painting his eye socket and cheekbone. That’s the least of it. She knows there’s worse hidden below the blanket from the cracked ribs he’d gotten up from the Russians.

It’s been five days.

Robin stares down at her hands where they’re folded in her lap. She squeezes them into fists. Stretches them wide. Tries to convince herself that she can connect sight and sensation to the fact of her body’s existence.

It’s been five days.

She’s alive.

Slotting herself back into the world that she’d known before she plummeted into the depths of the earth has felt impossible.

Though maybe that’s because there’s nothing left to slot herself into.

No school to return to, yet. No job to speak of—its remains a pile of rubble at the outskirts of town. No friends who know what happened.

No old friends, anyway.

There’s Steve.

He doesn’t quite feel like a friend though. He’s something…more. Something that exists beyond her understanding of what friendship or even love used to be. She’s never had a sibling—never wanted a sibling—and neither has Steve, so neither of them know enough to gauge if the weird, intense bond that’s sprouted between is sibling-like in nature. But it doesn’t feel like something so simple as that. She feels at once like she chose him, and like he was a gift to her from the universe.

It’s been five days. And he’s already the most important person in her life.

Robin sighs, and squeezes her eyes shut again, listening to the echoing silence of her house. It’s Tuesday. Her parents had taken the first few days after Starcourt off to help take care of her and Steve. Not that they were necessarily a huge help. But they’d made soup, and helped Steve with his bandages when needed. And it was just…nice to have them around. Their presence was grounding. Not so much because they were an especially calming pair, and more because their existence was so fundamentally at odds with the remembered atmosphere of the bunker and the tunnels, that seeing and hearing them made it almost impossible for Robin to forget where she was.

But today is their first day back at work, and the silence feels tangible. If she closes her eyes for too long she’ll be back in that cell, hands tied together, while a man spits sludge at her and asks what she knows; threatens to hurt her little friend if she doesn’t give up the intel he needs. Never touches her, never hurts her, but speaks with a glint in his eyes and a leer on his face that sets her teeth on edge and makes her stomach flip.

It’s been five days.

“Steve.” Her voice is hoarse, desperately scraping up her throat. She wants to hold his hand— rain bearing down, staring blankly at joined hands, linked fingers as her heart races—“Steve.”

Steve’s head rocks back and forth, and a small whine escapes him as he stretches and blinks against light. “Robs?” he voices is soft and slurry; it almost makes her smile.

“Morning, sleepy head.”

“Mmph.” He sits up, squinting heavily as he stares at her. His hair is all mussed, sticking up in every direction, and a thump of fondness beats in her chest, because she’s pretty sure that there aren’t many other people who get to see Steve “The Hair” Harrington without his signature coif. Maybe she should feel bad that she’s having such a stereotypical straight girl thought about it, but it’s not like she’s happy he’s in love with her or anything, it’s just…he’s hers now, and the way he’s trusting her like this makes her think that maybe she’s his now, too.

She’s never been another person’s favorite person before.

Her parents like her, sure. Love her, even. But she’s pretty sure she’s not their favorite person. She’s too anxious. Too loud, in the wrong ways, and never quiet in the right ones. She thought at one point she was Barb’s favorite person, but then Nancy came along and you can’t exactly ditch someone as easily as Barb ditched her if they’re your favorite person, right?

God, she needs to think about literally anything else right now.

“I’m hungry.”

Steve’s stomach growls the moment she says it. He scrubs a hand over his face and glares into the open air, like he’s offended his body has physical needs. “Me too, apparently.” He pushes himself upright, looking around the room. “‘time is it?”

Robin glances over at her clock. “Eleven.”

“Ugh. I want to sleep forever.” Instead, he pushes himself up and to a standing position. “C’mon, let’s go make some breakfast.” He reaches out a hand to her, and she accepts it with a decisive nod.

“That sounds like a great idea. Although I’m really more in the mood for lunch fare? At the very least something heartier than breakfast. Well, not heartier, because really a good breakfast should be pretty hearty since you’re eating for the first time in several hours and your body needs the extra boost. But, still, breakfast foods are so limiting, you know? Like, why are pancakes only a breakfast food? And eggs? I guess eggs can be an anytime food, but they’re usually a breakfast food, and for some reason there are some types of egg preparation that are extra especially breakfast-food-only. Like, who’s ever had an omelet for dinner, you know?”

“Robin.”

“Yeah?”

Steve stares at her for a beat, and for a second her heart rate kicks up—like going on some dumb little monologue about breakfast food is going to be the straw that breaks the camel’s back and makes him realize he doesn’t want such a weirdo for a friend.

He smiles. “I love you.”

Robin thinks she should balk at that. He’d just confessed to having a crush on her five days ago. She doesn’t want them to go on with him carrying a torch for her that she’ll never be able to accept.

But… Well. Robin’s not exactly an expert on romance. Even less an expert on reading people. But she thinks she’s figured out the secret code to Steve Harrington, and he’s not looking at her with tortured, lovelorn puppy eyes. He’s looking at her like she’s the sun. Like she’s some miraculous thing. But there’s nothing romantic there. He’s not staring at her mouth, or her chest. He’s looking at her like she’s nothing more and nothing less than the best thing he’s ever seen, and like that would be true no matter what she looked like.

She shakes her head. Smiles. “Love you too, dingo.”

“That one’s new.”

Robin shrugs. “Just possibly watching you take a bunch of punches to the gut from Russian spies made me feel like ‘dingus’ was a tad unfair.”

Steve laughs. “I’m flattered, but you can call me dingus all you want.”

“Okay then, dingus. What’s for breakfast-lunch then?”

“I think that’s just called ‘brunch,’ Bobs. But, um…how about soup and grilled cheese?”

“Only if you’re cooking, or want cold cheese on toast.”

Steve stops in his tracks and turns to stare at her. “Robs…do you not know how to make a grilled cheese sandwich?”

Robin shakes her head, feeling her cheeks warm a little. She’s more than capable of fending for herself when it comes to food. Can even cook a couple of staples. And she’s great when it comes to baking, and recipes with highly detailed instructions. But grilled cheese always felt like one of those kinds of things that are deceptively complicated. Like the fact that it’s supposed to be so simple is exactly the thing making it so hard. She was certain if she ever tried it’d come out a half-burnt, half-unmelted-cheese mess. “No…?”

“How did you go through life so far without knowing how to make a grilled cheese sandwich?” Steve looks genuinely distressed by this newfound knowledge.

Robin shrugs. “Never seemed important, I guess. Never really liked them when my mom made them, so I never bothered to figure out how, even once I realized that you can make them with cheese that isn’t glorified plastic.”

Steve gives her a despairing look. “Please don’t tell me your only experience of grilled cheeses have been ones made with Kraft singles.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you!” She says brightly.

Steve looks to be on the brink of tears.

“Hey…it’s okay, Steve. I promise you can pop my good-grilled-cheese cherry!”

Steve’s expression, if anything, grows even more pained. “Please, for the love of God, do not put it like that.”

Robin just grins at him, watching as he opens her fridge to take a look around. He rummages around for far longer than seems necessary for sussing out ingredients for a grilled cheese, but maybe he’s just taking stock of the contents for later? He comes back bearing all the cheeses currently residing in the Buckley fridge (sans the package of Kraft singles): a sharp cheddar, pepper jack, muenster, and swiss. He sets them down on the counter in front of them “Okay, pick one to three of these.”

Robin throws him a skeptical look, but points to the pepper jack and the muenster.

“Beautiful, okay. Now, lets see…” Steve sweeps his gaze across the kitchen, taking stock of the cabinets. He makes for the narrow one crammed between the stove and the sink, pulling it open to reveal the small stock of spices. He moans in disappointment. “I’m taking you grocery shopping after this. This is pathetic, Buckley. What do you all even eat?”

Robin shrugs, feeling a little self-conscious. “Mostly pasta, and sometimes roasted veggies, I guess?”

Steve turns to look at her, and his gaze is a little too sharp. A lot too knowing. The semi-judgmental look drops from his face, and is replaced by something more…tender? “Okay, yeah, me too, until I figured out how to cook for myself. My parents weren’t really into the whole ‘family meal’ thing.”

Robin shrugs. “Mine either.”

Steve looks surprised. “Really? But…I don’t know, they seem like they’d be into that kind of thing.”

Robin snorts. “What makes you say that?”

“Your parents seem to actually like spending time with you.”

“Do they?” Robin’s never gotten the sense that they hate being around her or anything. But sometimes she feels more like an inconvenient stray they took in than their kid.

Steve shrugs; stares down at his feet. “More than mine, anyway.”

“Yeah, well. Something tells me that’s not a high bar to clear.” Robin doesn’t know much about Mr. and Mrs. Harrington, but the fact that it’s been nearly a week since their son almost died and she’s seen neither hide nor hair of them speaks for itself. “But, no, my parents think that family meals and the ‘standard nuclear family’ are capitalist propaganda designed to create corporate drones who will destroy the planet. So. No family dinners. I don’t think it ever occurred to them that the reason some people do it is to have an organized reason to spend time with their family.” Robin tilts her head, considering. “Then again, they aren’t really into ‘organization’ in general.”

Steve nods with a small frown. “So…we both have fucked up parents, but in directly opposing ways?”

Robin hesitates. “I don’t know if I’d call them ‘fucked up,’ but they’re definitely not what you’d call functional parents, no.”

“Well, it’s a travesty that you’ve made it through 17 years on this planet without a proper grilled cheese, so I’m going to do the best I can with your meager offerings, and then we’re going to go shopping so that you’re armed to the teeth for any future grilled-cheese-making expenditures you may wish to embark on.”

Robin raises an eyebrow and shoots him a look. “I think Dustin’s rubbing off on you, buddy.”

Steve blinks and visibly plays back what he just said. “I don’t know where any of that came from,” he whispers in a joking panic.

Robin pats him on the shoulder. “It’s alright. Comes with the territory of befriending someone with an obnoxiously large personality.”

Steve grins at her. “Looking forward to it.”

Robin’s heart turns to goo and the smile she shoots back at him feels like it might split her face in two. “Me too.” Robin places her hands on her hips and turns to stare at the spice shelf. “Now, what exactly do you think we’re lacking on the spice front?”

“Robin, I don’t think we have time for me to list every single thing this cabinet is missing.”

“Fine, then tell me the things you wish were in it right now.”

Steve sighs. “Red pepper flakes, for one—although I guess if we’re using pepper jack for this it’s less important. It still makes me despair for the food you’ve been making before now that you don’t have it, though. And, uh…I guess herbs other than oregano and basil? Those are fine, but some variety would be nice, you know? Where’s the sage? The thyme? The rosemary? I guess we can go with oregano for now, though.” He pulls the jar from the cabinet and sets it on the counter. “Other than that I guess this is all we need for now— Oh!” Steve grabs the container of black pepper from the cabinet and adds it to his pile of ingredients. He keeps staring up at the cabinet, hands on his hip, and a small little frown on his face. "I’m still definitely helping you all stock up, because even if you’re just eating pasta and veggies you should still be using more spices than you’ve got here.”

Robin stares at him. “Steve Harrington…are you a cooking nerd?”

Steve’s head whips around and he stares at her, mouth agape. “No? What? Take that back right now!”

Robin crosses her arms over her chest and shakes her head. “Nuh-uh. You are, aren’t you? You taught yourself a bunch of cooking tricks and have them all memorized. You can launch off onto little rants about flavor profiles and culinary technique, can’t you? I bet you have cookbooks stashed under your bed, or something.”

Steve fish-faces at her, waving an accusatory finger in her direction. “I’m…you…how did you know that?”

Robin laughs, delighted. “Genuine guess. But you do? Oh, that’s delicious. Becoming friends with you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. The Steve Harrington lore is long and varied. You should be studied for science.” She throws her head back with a pleased cackle.

Steve is just staring at her, dumbfounded, a light dusting of pink on his face.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Steve shakes his head, and his eyes lose a little of the glassy quality they’d gained. “Nothing.” His hand reaches up to pinch at his nose for a second before falling away. “I just…do you mean that?”

“Do I mean what?”

“That being my friend is the best thing that’s ever happened to you?”

Robin blinks at him slowly. “Yeah? I mean the how of it wasn’t ideal, but even without the Russians we were already on our way here, right? The trauma just sort of…fast-forwarded it.”

“I…” Steve looks around the kitchen like he’s looking for an emergency exit. “Yeah. I guess.”

Robin feels her face fall. “Do you…do you not feel the same?”

“No! I mean, yes!! I just…” Steve rakes a frantic hand through his hair. “I’m not, uh, used to people liking me that much. I guess.”

Robin frowns. “What are you talking about, dingus? You were literally Hawkins Royalty!”

Steve huffs in frustration. “Yeah, but that’s not…being popular isn’t the same as people liking you, you know?” She doesn’t. Or, maybe she can guess, based on what he said in the bunker. But it still seems…wrong, somehow. Like everything she understood about the world is backwards.

Steve keeps talking, before her thoughts can spiral away from her. “Sure, I was popular. But my only actual friends were Tommy and Carol, and they…I mean, they weren’t bad friends, I guess? Terrible people, sure, but they were actually pretty…I mean, for all the fucked up shit…they always had my back?”

“Until you wanted to stop being a douchebag, you mean?”

Steve grimaces. “Yeah. I think they were…all three of us, really, were trapped in our own misery too much to let other people’s happiness pass without punishment. So I don’t think they liked when I tried to find some of my own.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah.”

A part of Robin wants to ask What about Nancy? the question poised at the tip of her tongue. But he said himself that he’s not in love with her anymore. Robin’s not sure how much she believes that, because he seems pretty smitten whenever she comes up in conversation—not that it’s happened a whole lot in the week since The Bathroom. Then again, that’s also sort of how he talks about her, and Robin’s reasonably sure that his crush petered out about as quickly as it appeared. Once the drugs were out of his system he admitted that he hadn’t really thought of her like that until Dustin had suggested they’d be good together, and after her bathroom confession he realized that while he did love her, it wasn’t actually romantic.

She doesn’t know anything about how Steve and Nancy broke up, though. Doesn’t know what baggage is or isn’t there—maybe it was just a regular teenage break up; goodness knows she doesn’t trust the Hawkins’ rumor mill as far as she can throw it. But she does know that he didn’t offer any caveats to his initial declaration—I’m not used to people liking me—and Robin's not going to go around shining lights in dark corners unless he does so first.

Robin’s stomach growls.

“Okay, sappy hour’s over. I’ve got to eat something stat, or else I can’t be held accountable for my actions.”

Steve shakes his head like he’s shaking loose cobwebs and leaps into action. He’s not finished gathering ingredients, though, apparently. He bustles around the kitchen until he’s added the butter bell, a few cloves of garlic, a loaf of bread, and a small jar of honey to his haul.

“What the fuck.”

Steve points in her direction with the spatula he’s materialized out of nowhere. “Just trust me, Bobbin.”

Robin raises an eyebrow. “Last time I did that I wound up trapped in an elevator to a secret Russian base.”

“Ouch.” There’s a genuine grimace of pain on his face.

“Too soon?”

“Maybe just a little.”

“Sorry.”

“No worries.” Steve turns to the stove, where he’s already unearthed and deposited one of the two frying pans in the house. “Now, let’s get started. First things first: the butter. The goal is to make the outside of the sandwich as tasty as the inside of the sandwich, so you’ve got to find a way to imbue the bread with flavor.”

Robin nods along. “Sure. What’s that got to do with butter?”

“You’re killing me, Buckley,” he says with a beleaguered little groan. He gestures to the frying pan. “First we’ve gotta imbue the butter with some flavor, so that the bread can soak it all up—which is part of why I wanted pepper flakes, but we’ll just have to make do with herbs and black pepper, I guess.”

Robin watches as Steve takes what seems like an obscene amount of butter and plops it into the pan, followed by a small handful of the oregano, a couple shakes of pepper, and a pinch of salt. “Okay, so now we’re going to turn the heat on—at low, we don’t want to burn anything—and we’re just gonna let that sit a bit until the butter melts and we start to smell the oregano on the air.”

“So…we just stand here and watch?”

“You can stir a bit to encourage the butter to melt a little quicker. But otherwise, yeah. Leave it alone. Let the butter and the heat do their thing together.”

“And then what?”

“Well, that should take about a minute or two, so now we can work on assembling our sandwiches. Sadly, you’ve only got Wonder Bread. Next time I’ll pick up a loaf of sourdough or something from Giant Eagle.” Steve waves the spatula through the air. “Or maybe we can make a quick loaf together.”

“Ugh, I hate baking bread.”

“…you know how to bake bread, but not how to make a grilled cheese?”

“…yeah? Baking makes sense. It’s just instructions.”

“I…yeah, okay, that makes sense.” Steve pulls a couple slices of bread from the bag, and starts spreading honey onto each one. “So what’s wrong with baking bread?”

“It’s sticky, and kneading the dough takes so much time, and it’s never the right consistency. I prefer, like, cakes and stuff. Brownies are perfect. Cookies are okay.”

“So: batter over dough, got it.”

“Exactly.” Robin joins Steve in spreading honey onto two slices of her own. “So, why the honey?”

“The sweetness adds some depth of flavor. Honey, butter, and cheese is a flavor profile without compare.” Steve stares in the direction of the pan. “Oh, shit, I forgot the most important ingredient! The garlic. Okay, drop what you’re doing. I should have thought to say this when I was talking about the herbs! The whole point is you want to get all your aromatics going at once, and what is garlic if not the world’s single most powerful aromatic? Nothing, I tell you. Nothing. But that’s okay, we can salvage this.” Steve grabs a couple cloves of garlic, a knife and just fucking…smashes the garlic with the flat of the blade.

“What the fuck…” Robin whispers to herself.

Steve just keeps moving like he isn’t getting up to absolute kitchen-wizardry, peeling away the papery skins from the cloves and tossing their mangled forms into the pan.

“We can give that another minute. The oregano might crisp up, but better to have crispy herbs and garlicky-butter than perfectly toasted herbs and sad, garlic-anemic butter.”

“I’ll just have to take your word on that, dude.”

Steve grins at her. “See, you do trust me.”

“Against my better judgment.” Robin deposits the second honeyed-bread slice on the plate in front of her. “Okay, what next?”

“Cheese!” Steve shakes out a few slices each of the pepper jack and muenster, layering them onto two of the four slices of bread spread out in front of them as the kitchen starts to fill with the scent of herbs and garlic. Robin’s cooked with garlic before, but usually she just chops it up and dumps it into the pot or pan along with everything else, so she’s never had the experience of smelling it on its own. She’s shocked by how much the scent makes it smell like a whole gourmet meal is already close to completion. She thinks back to every time she’s ever been over someone’s house while their mom was cooking and said something like wow, that smells great, Mrs. Johnson, and wonders if the only thing that’d actually been on the stove at that point was some garlic and herbs.

Robin shakes the thought from her head as she realizes Steve’s been monologuing. “…at this point you’ll want to turn the heat up a little.”

Robin nods again like she’s been following along this whole time. “Sure. Okay. Sandwich into butter, that makes sense.”

“Not sandwich time quite yet. Not a closed one, anyway. We want to be able to watch the cheese reach its melting point.” Steve drops two open-faced bread-with-cheese not-yet-sandwiches into the pan side by side, before reaching to turn the knob on the stove up to ‘5’. “Now we wait.”

Robin leans an elbow against the counter, staring intently at the sizzling pan. “How long?”

Steve shrugs. “Until the cheese starts to melt, or until it feels right. Some cheese melts more quickly, and some breads toast faster than others. You’re kind of aiming for the middle point of melty-cheese and golden-toasty-bread.”

Robin nods, and stares into the pan, fixated. Her grandmother’s voice floats through her head—a watched pot never boils, sweetheart. Robin knows it's an idiom, but she’s only ever had it said to her when she was literally watching a pot, waiting for it to boil. But Steve’s doing the same thing, watching as the garlic in the pan turns golden and crisp, and the butter bubbles and pops, and the edges of the bread begin to brown up.

Out of nowhere, she wishes there was music playing. She misses dancing around Scoops with him after close.

“What’re you humming?”

“Huh?” She hadn’t realized she’d been making any sound.

“The little,” Steve twirls a finger through the air and starts humming back at her, and Robin almost starts laughing.

“Apparently I was humming That’s What Friends Are For.” It had been on the songs on the closing mixtape they’d made together, but at the time she’d mostly added it as a joke.

Steve smiles at her, and it’s soft and cheesy, like the sandwiches sizzling away in the pan. He picks up the melody from her, extending a hand for hers.

“Steve, I’ve got two left feet.”

“Yeah, I know that, Robs,” he says, long-suffering, and takes her hand into his anyway. He resumes his humming, and yanks her into a little slow dance, spinning her around the kitchen like they’re two newly-weds, or care-free teenagers at the prom, blissfully unaware there are portals to hell beneath their feet. Except they’re better than that: two best friends dancing in the kitchen together after saving the world, while one of them teaches the other how to make a grilled cheese sandwich.

Robin takes over humming some of the lines when she thinks the song switches over from Dionne to Elton or Stevie—which she can’t quite bite back a snort at, when the thought drifts through her mind—and they carry on like that. They’re probably not really following the progression of the song, because neither of them are actually singing, but Robin has snatches of the lyrics running through her head as she concentrates on not stepping on Steve’s feet, and letting herself be dramatically dipped at odd intervals.

Steve hums the melody that Robin thinks matches up to knowing you can always count on me, and she finds herself leaning her head against his chest. His arms come up to wrap around her, and she burrows herself into his embrace. There are stupid little tears welling up at the corners of her eyes, but it barely even phases her. She feels no need to reach up and dash them away before someone can sniff out the sign of weakness. It feels silly, almost, to be so worked up about dancing around the kitchen in her sock-feet with this boy she’s barely known for a month, tentatively liked for a few weeks, and has loved for all of seven days. But that’s where she is, and she doesn’t think there’s any place she’d rather be.

Eventually Steve’s voice tapers off, and he slows them to a stop in the middle of the room. She stares up at him, her vision still a little blurry with tears. Steve’s looking down at her like she hung the moon, and leans in to press a kiss to her forehead. It sends the new tears spilling over, and she collapses back into him. “I’m so glad you made it out of there, dingus,” she says into his chest, right over his breastbone, his heartbeat thrumming against her lips.

“Yeah, me too, Bobby.” He squeezes his arms around her tight.

“…do you think the grilled cheeses are done now?” Her voice is still muffled from her face being buried against his chest. For all that she’s been swept away by emotion, she’s still really hungry.

“Mmm, well, it’d be hard for them to be done with only one slice of bread, but they might be ready to close and flip.”

Steve gently disentangles them and shuffles back over to the stove. The cheese does seem to be nicely melted now, and Steve hums in satisfaction, closing each sandwich with the other two honeyed slices of bread, before taking up the spatula again, and flipping each one with a little flourish. Robin cuts her eyes at him “Am I supposed to be impressed by that?”

Steve smirks. “Are you not?”

“Remains to be seen, Harrington. You might be all flair and no substance. The proof is in the pudding.”

“Well, they should be done in another few minutes, so you’ll get a chance to taste for yourself.”

The bread of the cooked side of the sandwich facing up at them is nicely crisped. Buttery and golden—almost brown in the center, and along the edges—and Robin can feel her mouth watering. She won’t say it until she knows for sure, but it certainly looks like one of the best things she’s ever tasted. She wants it in her mouth immediately.

“Cooking involves so much waiting,” she whines.

“So does baking.”

“Yeah, but unless you’re making bread, all of the waiting happens at the end. With cooking you’ve got all these mini waiting times: you’ve got to wait for the water to boil, or the pan to heat. You have to wait for something to cook the right amount before adding the next thing. You have to wait for the actual thing you’re cooking to cook enough on one side and then you’ve got to flip it and wait that same amount of time for it to cook evenly on the other side. It’s maddening! I don’t know how you do it.”

The corners of Steve’s mouth twitch. “I guess I’ve never thought of it like that. And it’s different with something like this, because this is pretty low on prep work. But with most things you always have stuff you can be doing during the waiting times. You have vegetables to chop, or you can get a head start on washing the dishes you used. If whatever you’re making involves having two pans or pots going you can time it so that you’re always doing something in at least one dish. And a lot of stuff involves active waiting. Like, you’ve got to stir the pot every now and then, or you have to slowly add something to the pan. And, I don’t know, I kind of like the pace of it. Having to keep track of all the little variables. It’s soothing.”

Robin squints at him. “You’re a weirdo, Steve Harrington.”

“Am not!”

“Are too! You’re a tiny little weirdo, who managed to convince the entire populace of Hawkins that you’re a cookie-cutter little rich boy. I’m almost impressed.” Robin pokes him in the chest. “You’re a weirdo, and a nerd, and a dork, to boot!” She’s grinning so wide again her cheeks ache. “And you’re my favorite person.”

“Well you’re my favorite person and you are also a weirdo, so there!”

“Stevie, I think we all already knew I was a weirdo.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Fine. Whatever.” Steve picks up the spatula again and carefully shuffles the sandwiches from their warm, buttery home. “Stuff your face so I don’t have to hear you yap any more,” he says. There’s a touch of faux-annoyance in his tone, but there’s no edge to it, and Robin can see a smile just as wide as her own plastered on his face.

“Okay, gimme the goods, Harrington.” She makes grabby hands at the chipped plate he’s deposited the first sandwich onto.

“Alright, alright, hold your horses.” Steve hands the plate to her, finishes scooping his own sandwich from the pan, and turns the heat off. He stares down at the plate in his own hand with a considering look. “I think we can skip the soup; I’ve already spent too much time talking your ear off about the grilled cheese. If I have to walk you through making soup, we’ll be here all week.”

“I know how to make soup!” Robin squawks, a bit offended.

Steve casts another despairing look at the spice cabinet. “See, somehow that’s worse.”

Robin sticks her tongue out at him. “Rude.”

Steve holds up his free hand in surrender. “Hey, I’m just of the opinion that if people are taking the time to make food for themselves it should taste good.”

“You've had soup here before!”

“Yeah, and I’ve also been concussed all week!”

“Rude!” She shouts again. She flaps her hands in his face. “And, I’ll have you know that my French onion soup is amazing!”

Steve narrows his eyes. “I cannot accept that. There is no thyme to be found here.”

“What is your obsession with thyme?”

“It’s not an obsession! It’s a spice cabinet staple!”

“Ugh, whatever. Let’s eat before I murder you out of sheer hunger.”

“I don’t like the link you’re making between those two concepts.”

Robin pats a hand on his cheek as she walks past him to the tiny table tucked against the kitchen wall. “Don’t worry, babe. The giant meat monster put me off of cannibalism.”

“Thanks,” he mutters after her. “That’s so comforting.”

Robin folds herself into one of the vinyl chairs at the table, and Steve drops into the one across from her. She picks the grilled cheese up off the plate with careful fingers, grease immediately welling up from the soaked bread and running down her fingers.

It smells…divine, actually. The bread is perfectly crisp, and she can smell the garlic wafting from it. She leans forward to take a tentative bite, careful of burning herself, and can’t bite back the full-throated moan that pours out of her. Garlic and honey break out across her tongue, followed by the heat of the pepper, and the fatty goodness of the cheeses. “Oh my God,” she groans, fully ignoring the etiquette of waiting to swallow before talking as she speaks around her mouthful. “I’m in love with you,” she says to the sandwich, and she thinks she’s going to cry. There might be actual tears welling up again. This sandwich is better than most orgasms she’s hand—and sure, maybe she doesn’t really know what she’s doing with herself on that front, but up until this moment she also didn’t know what she was doing when it came to making a grilled cheese sandwich, so it feels like a totally reasonable to comparison.

“So…you like it, huh?”

Robin’s head jerks as she tears her gaze away from the sandwich and looks over at Steve, who has a giant, shit-eating grin on his face.

“Oh, shut up, asshole.”

“I’m not the one practically orgasming at the table, Bobs.”

“Am not.”

“You definitely are. I’m flattered, really. I didn’t realize my prowess extended this far.”

Robin flaps a hand in his face. “Ew, disgusting! Stop that!”

Steve throws his head back and cackles. “Oh my god, the look on your face!” He reaches up to wipe away a stray tear, and tilts his head back down to shoot her a fond look. “Seriously, though, I’m glad you like it.”

Robin rolls her eyes, but smiles at him anyway. “Yeah, thanks for making it, dingus.”

Steve smiles right back. “Anytime, dingo.”

Robin takes another bite. In this bubble of space, with a song on loop in her head, a smile on Steve’s face, and the taste of the world’s best grilled cheese on her tongue, Robin thinks that maybe, just maybe, everything is going to be alright.

[angelicglibsss]

Christmas Comfort

[ꜱɪᴍᴏɴ ʀɪʟᴇʏ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ] [ᴅᴀᴛᴇ ᴘᴏꜱᴛᴇᴅ]: 25/12/23 [ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ]: After Johnny's death and a failed mission, Simon returns home to his girlfriend.

[ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ]: 3,252

[ᴛᴡ]: hurt/comfort, angst, a somewhat happy ending (it will never be fully happy without soap I am sorry) possible mw3 spoilers (if you have been living under a rock please avoid)

[ᴀ/ɴ]: This is my first story here, please be kind I beg <3 also very sorry for this but I had the idea and thought it would be quite a bittersweet story for the holiday season !!

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Christmas this year is going to be tough.

You know it from when you open the door to him on Christmas Eve. 

Time has passed, he hasn’t been home for months and you were starting to convince yourself that it’s going to be years before you ever see him again.

When you were talking on the phone earlier, sometime during the middle of November, he had made a comment that he wasn’t going to come back home until he had made sure he had the pleasure of declaring that the enemy that had murdered his best friend was officially gone for good. While your chest tightened at his comment, you had nodded along and assured him that they would catch Makarov eventually; there were only so many places one man could hide before he’d revert back to familiar ground. 

You feared the same for Simon at that moment. In fact, even with him home safe, you still do.  

Of course, you would never say that to his face.

Despite his capability in combat, however, you often find yourself awake at night wondering just how capable he was when it came to processing and dealing with loss. Had he done what you assume he has done, he was most likely going to run from it instead of addressing it. Problems will build up and up until they came tumbling down. It’s a simple thought to construct during the late nights you have been spending alone since the news of what had happened to Johnny had found its way to you. Just as such a thought is easy to construct, you find that another one comes to you quicker than the former: where would Simon be when the building he’d constructed over the years fell to pieces? 

There were only so many places he man could hide before he’d refer back to familiar ground. Even if said ground was crumbling around him. Maybe in his misery, he would find solace in falling to his doom with the chunks of shattered earth surrounding him.

If that assessment is wrong, it doesn't matter; your brain has decided it before your heart even gets a say.

You have very little to go off of concerning with how he dealt with loss, the occasional comment about his mum was enough for you to know that he wasn’t the type to completely forget about a loved one. 

He's vague about his past. The less said about it the better. 

‘You keep pawing an’ clawing at my brain like a damn puppy,’ he said, trailing his hands through your hair. You were guilty, for sure you were. Curiosity was sure to be the death of you in that regard. He’d let small facts slip on occasion, although, you knew his accidental slip ups were most definitely intention. 

Of course, Simon Riley was no fool.

’Just tell me something,’ you begged, ‘like… I don’t know, what was your favourite food to eat at Christmas when you were younger? Ooo, I bet it was something like liquorice. You’d so make your nan pissed by robbing all the good shit out of the sweet tin.’ You laughed at the thought of a tiny Simon Riley climbing on top of a chair, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he attempted to snatch the sweet, sweet treat of liquorice. 

‘Are you fuckin’ kidding me?’ he scoffed, ‘actin’ like I’m an old man doll,’ he snorted, ‘stop tryin’ to pester me f’r memories you have no business viewing.’

‘Is it illegal to be curious now?’ you asked with a playful smile. It was silent for a moment, and you lifted your head in an attempt to find his eyes in the darkness.

‘Yes, it is,’ he said, ‘you don’t wanna know me from the past, love,’ he huffed, ‘doesn’t matter now.’

‘You won’t even tell me what your favourite food was during Christmas?’ 

‘No,’ he reverted back to the same Simon you had seen when Johnny had been talking his ear off during the rare nights out you had had with 141. ’Now go t’ sleep, gonna be tired in the morning if you keep rambling on. My ears are burning with ya, doll,’ he teased, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you firmly against his chest. 

Despite everything telling you to pull away from him, you maintained your closeness, the warmth of him far too appetising to refuse. Exhaling deeply, you rested your head against the pillow, staring straight at the wall in front of you. Your heart hurt at the very thought that he cared so little about his past that he fought to keep everything from his earlier life away from you. Even the smallest things. Of course, you would never had pried him, only the few passing comments in hopes for him to slip up as he had done a few times before. 

Another hard sigh escaped you as you close your eyes. He shifted behind you, resting his head against your shoulder. You thought nothing of his sudden movement; it wasn’t uncommon for him to do so while you were sharing a bed together. Only, he turned his head, his breath ghosting your ear. Inhaling, he swallowed hard. ‘Mum used to make us roast dinners,’ he whispered, ‘used to always slap my hand away whenever she was cooking cause I used to always rob the pigs-in-blankets while she was still getting dinner ready.’

A small laugh passed your lips as you turned in his hold, placing your hand against his cheek with a cheeky grin. He stares back, blue gaze gutting through the darkness, slicing your soul to pieces.  ‘Now, will y’ stop huffin’ and puffing and just go to sleep?’ He asked, placing his hand over yours. 

‘Soundly, Lt.’

Even behind the mask, you could sense the sadness, the loss. A flurry of emotions hits you when you first see him after what has happened. What can you say to him? Anything other than I’m sorry seems to be an insult to him and to the memory of the man that is sure to haunt him.

The mask hides his face, but it never hid his eyes, his tired and war-weary eyes. It's a brutal sight to see the man who had put the fear of God through you when you had first met reduced to this crushed soul. 

‘Simon,’ you say after a while of the pair of you just standing there, staring at each other. For a brief moment, it felt as though you had opened the door to a stranger instead of your boyfriend. Lifting his head, his Adams apple bobs beneath his balaclava as he steps forward. You take a step back, letting go of the edge of the door. Still, he doesn't speak, only standing there, observing you. ‘I thought you said you weren’t coming home until—‘

‘Don’t wanna talk about it,’ he answers, closing the door behind him.

His clothes are branded with the stench of war, and you take note of his bloodshot eyes. Has he been crying? You thought it impossible for such to be the case, he’d do no such thing. But, when he shakily inhales, grabbing the edge of his balaclava, your stomach dropped.

‘Place looks nice,’ he says, though his eyes don't leave you, ripping his mask from off of his face, shoving it into of his cargo pants. His words were shaky despite the stoic expression on his face. ‘You been alright?’

You look at him with wide eyes. ‘I- uh- yeah, yeah, just sorting out last minute things for Christmas,’ you answer, ‘how about you go and get a shower, get changed into some fresh clothes? I’ll make you something to eat—‘

‘Not hungry,’ he answers frankly, ‘appreciate the offer, doll, but I think I’m just gonna go straight to bed,’ he says. All the moisture in your mouth disappears and you’re forced to swallow a dry mouthful of air as you look up at him. 

‘Right,’ you nod, ‘I- I’ll be up right after you, just gonna turn everything off down here,’ you say.

He doesn’t answer you after that, dropping his duffle bag down on the ground by the front door as he traipses up the wooden steps of your home. The garland wrapped around the bannister winks at you as you watch Simon walk up the stairs, almost mocking you for ever think it was a good idea to decorate.

The entirety of your house is wrapped like a Christmas present, reds, greens, colourful lights- everything. Whether it was the right thing to decorate or not, you choose not to focus on it too much as you rush around the house, switching off the decorations and the lights, leaving the washing you had been doing on the counter in the kitchen. 

All of it can wait. But he can’t. 

So, with such a thought in mind, you busy yourself with your plan. What is included in that plan can be decided as you’re walking through the house, back to the staircase you have just seen your poor boyfriend walking up.

Jogging up each step, you decide that ultimately, everything that has happened in the past few months with be something he will not be willing to discuss with you; he made it clear when he walked through the door. Don’t push him on it.

When your foot hits the last step, you nod to yourself as you consider what you would do if he did want to talk to you about it. If he wants to talk to you about it, then you rejoice in his openness. But it isn’t necessary for him to have your undying support. No matter what he decides, ultimately, your heart is never going to fail on him. 

Before heading into your bedroom, you gulp when you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. Pulling it out of your pocket, your eyes scan over the message, a shallow exhale escaping your lips. 

Mum &lt;3: Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. made sure to grab extra pigs-in-blankets incase Simon decides to appear sometime. Love you xx

Begrudgingly, you stare down at the message before looking at the bedroom door. From beyond it, you can hear the running water in the shower and all you can think about is him. So, with a deep breath, you look back down at your phone and begin to type. 

From ‘me’: Slight change of plans but I don’t think we’re going to be able to make it there tomorrow. Simon’s just got home and he’s not good. Don’t think socialising is what he needs right now. Sorry, I love you xx

Choosing has never easy, yet, when you pushed open the bedroom door and saw his clothes sitting on the bed the pair of you share, you decide that that choice was the easiest one you have ever made in your life. It isn’t a sacrifice when it is necessary. At least, not when it comes to Simon at least. 

--

‘I’m not going home tomorrow,’ you tell him when he walks out of the bathroom. Part of you feels bad for bombarding him with something as soon as he walks out, but the affirming text from your mother causes your heart to swell, and when you see him again, it bursts. His hair is damp and he pulls his face out of the towel with a surprised look. His scarred cheeks are branded with a subtle red tinge from the heat exuding from the bathroom. The heat works well to melt his features just enough for him to mould them into a dissatisfied sneer. ‘I don’t wanna fight you on this, Si.’

‘You can’t cancel on your family,’ he says, approaching his dresser. ‘Not right. I don’t want you to do that for me,’ he continues, grabbing a t-shirt, pulling it over his head. ‘Go spend time with them, am fine here.’ 

‘I already told my mum,’ you say, ‘she’s fine with it,’ you quickly reassure, far too aware that he very well may be a ticking time bomb.

Oddly, you request of not fighting on it seemingly works as he looks over his shoulder at you. There is simply no fight left in Simon Riley anymore, you conclude it from the way he shrinks as he exhales, padding up to the bed. It was as though he had left the house as a grenade left the hands of a soldier. Upon his return, the body of what made him him: his danger, his determination, and his strength had all been lost and you find he has been reduced to the pin pulled from the grenade. 

Looking up at him, you find that it is up to you if you’re going to discard it or keep it as a keepsake.

Pulling the edge of the duvet, you pat the side of the mattress, ‘c’mon,’ you say gently. He doesn’t wait to climb into bed beside you, resting his weary head against the pillow. It’s as though someone is pressing down on his chest as he heaves a sound unlike anything you have ever heard. Exhaustion was clear, but grief was easier to identify in his eyes. Leaning over, you turn the lamp on your beside off, trying your attention to him, lying on his side. 

There’s nothing to say. Not to him, not for him, not for yourself. You just lay there and stare at him hoping something will come to you. Anything said will be a bittersweet lullaby, you’re convinced. Nothing is going to put him to sleep. ‘Your minds running; faster than mine, sweetheart,’ he says. His eyes are closed when you look at his face. ‘Don’t want you doin’ stupid things ‘cause of me.’

‘Nothing is stupid when it comes to you, Si’,’ you weakly state.

At this point, you heart is racing, your tongue tangled as you contemplate every single word on the edge of your tongue. ‘Mum said she’ll bring us dinner tomorrow,’ you say with a weak smile, debating on whether or not you should spoil the surprise. ‘We can eat it and watch something… if you want to.’

‘What’s she bringing,’ he asks.

‘A roast,’ you answer, ‘it is Christmas after all.’

He’s quiet for a while, almost as though he doesn’t even want to think about what day it is. December 24th. Christmas Eve. You’re unsure how exactly the holidays work in 141, only noting that he had been away a few times during Christmas. Oddly, this is one of the first ones he’s home with you. His second Christmas since knowing Johnny that he isn’t with him. Your heart weakens at the realisation, your brain cursing you with the knowledge of something so agonising.

They had spent Christmas together.

And now they won’t and never will and it isn’t just because of the distance between Manchester and Scotland.

Rather, it’s because of the distance between this life and the next.

Your eyes well with tears and you close them. Your heart hurts for the man lying in front of you, and when you hear him clear his throat, you find it difficult to contain your own sorrow. ‘Doesn’t feel like Christmas,’ he tells you, his voice trembling as he does. ‘Haven’t slept at all since ‘cause I can’t stop thinking about him just… lyin’ there,’ his throat tightens and his tone grows pitchy as he inhales deeply, swallowing hard. ‘I shoulda done something, I should’ve been there f’r him.’ 

He’s crying at that point, but not sobbing. In fact, you only know he's crying because, when you place your hand against his cheek and the pad of your thumb wiped away a tear that falls past his eye. ‘You were,’ you choke out, ‘even in death, you were loyal to him, Si’, don’t you dare go cursing your own name for something you were not responsible for,’ you demand. ‘You’ll get him.’

‘We’re fallin’ apart without him,’ Simon sniffles, ‘bet he’s sitting up there pissin’ himself seeing me like this,’ he utters. The pair of you share a laugh at the thought and you move close to him. ‘I just… I told myself after everything that happened to mum and Tommy, I wouldn’t feel anything ‘cause that fucked me up, but then I met Johnny a- and I met you.’

You hold your breath. 

‘Simon—‘

‘And what if I can’t keep you safe? I’ve failed at it so much and that fucking pricks got me doubting myself now—‘

‘Shut up,’ you firmly say, ‘I don’t wanna hear it, Si’,’ you utter, ‘and neither would Johnny.’

You press your thumb against his cheek, ‘doubt is a killer, and it’s not me who you’re not gonna be able to protect if you keep thinking the way you are, it’s yourself,’ you continue, licking your dry lips, ‘and… and if you die, then who’s gonna steal the pigs-and-blankets on Christmas Day?’ 

Whether it was time for humour or not, you’re unsure. But, as you thinking for a moment, you recall the tales told to you by Simon during his time away, particularly his time with the Shadows. 

Two goldfish are in a tank… 

‘You still remember that?’ he asks eventually. You feel the muscles contort in his face as he smiles at you. 

‘Always,’ you respond, ‘mums got them with the dinner tomorrow ‘cause I asked her too… said she got extra incase you planned on robbing any of them.’ You feel bad telling him such information knowing that you had chosen to cancel the holiday. If anything, you’re worried about the guilt you’re causing him by rambling on about the stupid fucking pigs-in-blankets. ‘My point is Si’,’ you take a deep breath, ‘I need you here with me so you can fulfil your duty.’

He shifts and pulls you closer, wrapping his arm around your waist, pressing his face into the nape of your neck. Your hand brushes through his hair, melting in his arms as his hot breath fans against your neck. ‘Wanna see your family tomorrow,’ he says, ‘I’ll go with you.’

‘Are you sure—‘

‘’Ave been stuck in my mind for nearly two months,’ he confesses, pulling away from your neck. ‘Fighting with myself over everything, I’ve hardly spoken to Price or Gaz,’ he confesses. You press your lips together, the thought of him being alone nauseating. ‘Be a waste of money as well if I didn’t try pinching the food your mums made, wouldn’t it?’ 

You feel him smile as he presses his face back against your neck, his grip on you so tight its almost painful. But you relent, allowing him to have the comfort he so deserves. Resting your head above his, you close your. Whatever awaited you in the future can wait, you conclude.

‘I proud of you,’ you whisper, pressing a kiss onto his head. 'Never gonna let you doubt yourself ever again, not on my watch,' you continue, 'now sleep. We can talk more when you're ready.'

He smiles again.

'I know I can sleep soundly now,' he utters against your skin, 'got you beside me.'

With that, the pair of you fall into silence. You don't sleep, not until you feel his breathing steady against you skin, the subtle rise of his chest as he keeps his arms around you. You keep running you fingers through his hair before eventually, you find your eyes growing heavy and you drift off.

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[palmtreesx3]

Act 3 - Getting Lucky

Praise Kink (Robin's Chapter)

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Series Summary: (11.2k)  Fall is settling in in the Windy City, and Steve and Robin are swept up in their overthinking. The pair are left to their own devices at the shop while Murray is off traveling to Sex Toy conventions. Robin and Alex have grown closer and are the perfect pair, but Robin’s growing a bit of a complex because the relationship isn’t quite a s reciprocal as she’d like, so she calls in the reserves to give her the tutorial she needs to overcome her trepidation and dive right in. In order to repay Steve for his thorough tutorial, the girls start to meddle, because if they can see one thing, it’s that Steve loves a good self-sabotage. Everyone’s a little concerned over the opinions of others and seeking praise and reassurance in all the wrong places, so grab a cozy blanket, be a good girl and enjoy this chapter of Get Off. 

Warnings: it's a sex shop and generally just NSFW so 18+. Sex paraphernalia, dildos of all variety, sexual innuendo aplenty, eating pussy and explicit descriptions of said act, dirty talk and praise kink, allusions to jerking off.

“I swear to Christ. ROB! I know you have it!” Steve shouts out as he’s pacing through the apartment corridor looking everywhere but nowhere all at once. The pacing was more of a nervous habit, looking like a mother who is trying to walk off her frustration before she loses her cool on her lovely, doe eyed child after they broke the expensive family vase. Speaking from experience as the boy who knocked over said vase…he’s probably picked up a few mannerisms from his mother, now that he thinks about it. Back when she had time for him. He shakes his head in annoyance - at Robin and his childhood - hands flailing in the air above his head “You gotta fuckin stay out of my closet!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Steve.” Her head pops out of the bathroom, looking down the hall at her friend who is zipping between his room and hers. 

“You still have BOXES in there Robin. BOXES. We’ve lived here six months. SIX. We’ve gone through an entire season. It’s fall now. Please for the love of God, unpack your things. How do you find anything in there?”

“I know where my things are, thank you very much. I just happen to enjoy some of the things from your closet, so sue me.” 

Steve is exasperated with his friend. He has been dealing with Robin encouraging him to spend every last extra dollar he has after bills, beers at Benny’s and whatever else they do to fill their time to buy new clothing because his “style is like a billboard asking for abstinence in this city,” yet she is sticking her nose in there every other day stealing pieces of clothing he’s had for years. “One man’s trash is another lesbian’s treasure” she tells him every time he bitches about the double standard. 

“I fuckin told you. Hands off the yellow sweater. Off limits. That and this jacket….they’re NOT getting traded in. They are not fair game. Got it?” he’s glaring at her, one hand on his hip, the other holding up a steely gray Members Only jacket she still can’t believe hasn’t been ruined from all of the bullshit it’s been through back at home. 

“Yeah yeah, It’s a great layering piece, can you even blame me? How do you even still have that thing, anyway? Like, how wasn’t it ruined after Billy clocked you right in the nose?” 

“ROBIN. SHUT UP!” he shouts, storming off to his room to get ready for their shift. 

“Love you too, Dingus!”

Robin finishes readying herself for their afternoon at work, stepping out of the bathroom after perfectly smudging her imperfect eye pencil and adding a red lip that rivals the auburn in her hair. Fiery undertones just like the girl. Her lips, her hair, her personality - they all match her new red Doc Martin boots that she’s really just awful complaining about. She heard all about it - how hard it was to break those fuckers in. Got some tips from the Queens at The Rainbow Room that she’s gone back to now for shows numerous times since that first night. Alex asked her upwards of 10 times if she was sure she wanted them and if she was ready for the commitment to breaking them in so they don’t lay dead like a fashion sacrifice at the back of her closet. Told Steve all about how she was going to push through and how it couldn’t be that bad. 

Well…it was. It was that bad - and Robin is not built to stick it out. She’s not formulated to power through. The problem is, she wants to wear them. Needs to wear them. They look good. So she settles on the only thing she’s ever been able to do to distract her from her pain (emotional and physical) and that’s: Never shut up and complain about it non-stop but only to Steve and take her entire bad mood out on Steve. Needless to say…Steve is tired. 

Steve is in the kitchen, two brown bags perched on the counter top. “Apple or banana Robbie?” he asks, holding up one of each in the air. “Banana. Definitely.” she smirks, as he tosses it in the bag, labeled with scrawling chicken scratch Robin along the front in pen. She leans against the counter as he wraps up two sandwiches, tosses in some snacks and folds over the bag before handing it to her. 

“Thanks mom.”

Steve doesn’t grace her with a response. He just rolls his eyes as he tosses on his jacket and grabs his keys. “Let’s go, loser. And don’t drag your feet in those boots. Pick them up and fuckin walk. We got a shift to get to.” 

The lock clanks as Steve opens up the front door and clicks on the neon sign in the window to designate the shop is open for business. Murray handed Steve the keys last week before he headed off to Las Vegas for an annual Adult Industry Product Conference. Showed Steve the brochure for Sensual Revolution '93 and told him "Maybe I'll bring ya along next year, big boy. Just take care of my baby while I'm gone and you never know! I might just upgrade you from Sex Shop Employee to Sex Shop Supervisor."

Not that Steve had aspirations to move up in the world of The Hideout and make a career out of it, but if Steve could tide off his father a little longer by being able to tell him that he's a Retail Supervisor that might buy him a little more time without hearing about how bullshit his work is. 

"We're open Rob! I'm gonna go restock the shelves in the back." 

"Yeah buddy. I got the register! I still can't believe that massive rush on massage oils last week. I still wanna know what sparked that… " she trails off. 

Everything seems fine for the rest of the morning until the loud hiss of  a massive delivery truck arrives out front, blocking up the narrow lanes of the city streets, horns honking and shouts out the passenger side windows starting immediately. Robin perks up, setting all four legs of her wooden stool back on the ground. 

“Uh, Dingus? Are we expecting a delivery?”

“No…what are you talking about Robin?” Steve shouts from his spot, crouched down in the back stocking the lower shelves. He hears the bell ding, and just as he stands up to peer out and what’s going on he sees the delivery hat of a man at the counter and the expansive vista of the biggest delivery truck he’s ever seen show up at the shop covering every inch of space their front windows have to offer. 

Robin's eyes widen as she reads the delivery slip, "Urgent: Assorted dildos for The Hideout."

She bellows out a laugh, not once looking up from the packing slip she still holds in her hands. “Steve. The man says you need to sign for these.”

“What the fuck is it Rob?” And with that, she silently extends the paper out to her friend. He snatches it quickly as she holds back her chuckling, rumbles leaving her nose that emanates in the back of her throat. His eyes scan the form until he gets to the bottom, reading the slip he does a double take. with an unexpected, jaw-dropping inventory of various dildos, more than they could ever imagine.

“I’m not…I can’t sign for this! He didn’t say a goddamn thing about any delivery let alone this! It can’t be right. Nope…. I…no.”

Steve’s still rambling a bit as he walks out the front door to the truck, along with the driver. Robin’s lips are curled up in a permanent smile as she chomps on her doublemint gum, getting the worlds biggest kick out of watching Steve pacing back and forth on the concrete, hands alternating between flailing in the air and resting on his hips in a stance that looks both like dominance and defeat all wrapped into one. 

Before long, Steve comes barreling through the front door, pushed open by force with both hands, finding them raised up by his ears in surrender and shaking his head in irritation. “They’re bringing them in Rob. It’s 10 pallets. 10 PALLETS OF DILDOS. I don’t even know where we’re gonna stick all these dicks. Jesus.”

“TEN? What the fuck? What happened?”

“Apparently Murray’s having a grand old time in Vegas. Did a little bulk ordering at the conference. Got them shipped direct and told the company Harrington’s got em.” his face scrunches up as he mocks Murray’s intonations. 

“No…it’s fine. It’s cool. We’ve got it. We’ll figure it out.”

“Steve…for two people who have never handled that much dick in their entire lives, I’m a little skeptical.” 

“No, no…if Murray were here…what stupid shit would he have us doing?”

And with that, Steve sets off. He immediately figures that Murray would be blasting off directions for him to unload the goods, so after ripping open the wrapping of the pallets himself…he instead naturally gives that job to Robin. Figuring Murray wants to offload the old inventory, Steve gets some sale information ready and decides to mark down everything on the floor - sure as shit that Murray got some new and improved models, fancier faux cocks, better colors, better…whatever bells and whistles. He doesn’t care really…he just needs to make room. 

After running off a huge stack of flyers on the copier in Murray’s office, he tells Robin he’s heading out. With a groan from the girl that echoed in the storeroom, he promised he’d return with a fresh cup of coffee and her favorite muffin if she’d just shut the fuck up about it. “But Steeeve” she groans “I can’t look at any more of these. Look at this one! It’s an actual monster cock. It’s got tentacles!”

“Aw, ew, gross.” his nose scrunches up and he turns on the balls of his feet, the new black chucks already fading a bit since they’re suddenly all he’s wearing - the red swoosh of his Nike Cortez’ tucked back a little further in his closet than they’d ever have been before. He jogs out the front door, stack of thin copy papers tucked as best he can under his arms, 

It’s a warm fall day today, sun heating up the streets in the warmth of the afternoon, as he maneuvers the busy city sidewalks, tails of his unbuttoned shirt trailing behind him, a well-worn black band t-shirt he picked up from the Goodwill downtown tucked into his denim. He almost didn’t pay any mind to the shirt as he scoured for his size in the bin laid out before him, but threw it on top of his pile anyway after reading the band scrawled across the front - Pearl Jam. 

Steve’s on a mission. He’s trying to get down the street to some of their notorious partners so he can tack up a flyer on their community board, or leave a stack of them at their bar or with the bouncer. Anywhere he knows won’t turn up their nose at a rudimentary flyer boasting discounted dildos. He makes a mental note to insist that Hopper and Joyce leave some on the bar at Benny’s even though he knows at least Hopper will bitch about it nonstop. He knows Joyce’ll look at him like a doting mama before scowling at her counterpart and telling the boy Whatever you need, honey.

He doesn’t see you until you’re right on top of him, and to be fair, you didn’t see him either. So when your chests connect in a thump and everything the both of you are carrying falls to the gritty sidewalk, both of your first instincts are to bitch about it. “What the fuck is your problem man, y’wanna watch where you’re going next time?” you scowl.

Before he could even get the snarky words out of his mouth, he says your name and you snapped out of it in an instant. “Oh God, Steve. It’s you! Sorry, I…I’m just in a fuckin’ mood today. I’m knee deep in midterms and I really just don’t want to read another essay about family dynamics and how my dads expectations really fucked me up - y’know?”

“Yeah, oh I know. I mean, not about the grading essays thing, but…about the dads expectations fucking you up. That part I can relate to. Not the smartie pants stuff.”

“Ok, well…” Your eyes roam up and down his face, seeing how scatterbrained he looks, now crumpled wads of paper crushed up against his chest. “We’ll unpack that little tidbit another time, then. Haven’t seen you in a few weeks. Maybe some coffee again? That shop by your place was nice last time we met up. Good music spinning, so - y’know they got me hooked.” 

Steve nods in agreement. After that night in the cab, you’ve seen eachother a few times. Nothing crazy, but intentionally. First you met up at the record store so you could show him some other albums he might like. The next time, you went back to the ice cream place from that ill-fated date night because for some reason, ever since then, you’ve been jonesing for a scoop of that peanut butter swirl ice cream and ended up sitting for two hours just talking. 

The last time, he invited you to their favorite coffee shop, sat at a table just adjacent to where Robin and Alex sat, scooping the foam off of one anothers cappuccinos and lattes with their fingers, ankles tangled together under the table, clearly whispering and staring at the pair of them and doing an awful job of keeping their voices low as they spend the whole time making conjecture about what exactly is going on here with the two of them. 

Robin was nice, she seemed quirky and fun and Alex seemed like some of the angsty, take-on-too-much-responsibility type girls trying to stand out in the crowd at the University you’re teaching at - which basically means you know exactly how to socialize with her if need be. But since then, you’ve been so wrapped up in the start of your semester, taking on a bigger courseload than normal and getting wrapped right up in the happenings of the fall semester to keep up with anything but teaching and grading. 

Steve finally talks after a few seconds “Yeah, it’s really…been awhile. Thought you forgot about me.”

“No. No! Well…you haven’t forgotten about me huh?” Your eyes flick down to his shirt, the typography finally catches your eye, and you point to it with a smirk. 

“What do you have here, anyway?” You snatch one of the fliers off the ground as the autumn breeze starts to swirl it around at your feet. 

“It’s nothing! No…well. Our boss got a huge shipment in - like, HUGE and we have to make room…..on the floor. So….I’m running a sale.” 

“Oh hoh hoh, this is great. Is Robin working? I kinda need a break. Show me this shop of yours? Please? I gotta see the merchandise.”

He is absolutely dreading this. He knows he can’t say no to you. He’s been doing great those few times you hung out together, but he can’t deny that just thinking about you makes him sweat, and he has continued to - over and over and over again - indulge himself to thoughts of your voice, your face, your body as he loses himself in the tense grip of his fist. So you have no idea how much of a hold you have on the guy. Blissfully ignorant of the fact that you have him wrapped around your little finger. And he’s utterly embarrassed, because he knows it. Stupid Steve getting obsessed with another girl again. Convincing himself he’s in love. Yeah…

The pair of you walk through the door of the shop not long after that. The sounds of voices from the back room ring out, cackling laughter that is irrefutably Robin echoing through the store. Steve leads you back behind the curtain to see Alex sitting, entirely amused watching Robin lose her cool at every dildo she pulls from the box. Robin is there, sitting cross-legged, holding up a gigantic transparent pink dildo, wobbling in the air, her cheeks almost the same color as the jiggling member. “People fit THIS up there? Who LIKES that? I’ll…Look at this thing!” 

You immediately burst out in laughter and Robin looks up, beaming when she sees you. Eyes darting back and forth between you and Steve. “It’s not as bad as you think, Robin.” you say. Entirely too seriously, and Steve almost gives himself whiplash looking at you as you shrug it off and move closer to inspect the wares. “Ran into Steve on the street, saw you guys were having a sale and I HAD to see all the fuss.”

“Steve…lotsa stuffin’ the muffin gonna be going on after we sell those bad boys.” 

A litany of curses rolls off of Steve's tongue in response as he yells something about setting up a sale display in the front.

They all follow Steve out to the floor as he works up the display space. Robin slides over next to him and starts to help, setting a box filled to the brim, bulbous heads sticking out over the edge. She leans over into his shoulder so she can whisper “Stevie…your face is way too serious right now. The girl you like is here while you’re tossing around fake dicks. You gotta smile about it or…lighten up or something. She’s not gonna like your sourpuss face. I think I’m the only one that puts up with that”

“Rob…she's not.. I don’t - '' but he’s cut off by the whirr and buzz of a pile of vibrating dildos Robin has accidentally activated. Moving and bouncing while making an incredible racket against the glass top of the case, the dildos start toppling over the ones Steve has meticulously stacked already and buzzing right off the side of the case and onto the floor. The vibrating dildos are chaotically bouncing and toppling everywhere. “Shut up, you two!” Robin yells back at you and Alex sitting curled up in the seating area, faces red with laughter. 

Just then, a group of the shop's regular customers start trickling in flyers in hand, intrigued by the commotion. Robin, overwhelmed with the chaotic situation she herself unfurled, immediately goes to assist the customers, leaving Steve behind to deal with the cacophony of mechanical penises. To distract from the mess, Robin begins a rambling speech about the history and uses of various dildos, sharing more information than anyone asked for and with surprising accuracy and detail. The three of you all look on in amazement and curiosity as Robin suddenly transforms from a bumbling, blushing sexual idiot to this dildo encyclopedia in no time. 

“Hey! Ladies…watch this!” Steve picks up a few of the dildos and starts juggling them in the middle of the store with particular ease. In a rare moment where Steve shakes off the uptight strings that tie him up and hold him down, his effort to make things a bit more lighthearted, pay off. 

Everyone’s hollering and smiling and laughing, however, his juggling skills are far from perfect. After a good run, he misses one - a big sparkly silicone thing that starts bouncing wildly across the counter and lands with a smack and a slap in front of the customer at the register. Robin and the customer look down at it, mouths open in disbelief. 

Steve’s bracing himself to get yelled at by one or both of them, but instead both blow out a laugh they were holding back before the whole store erupts into amused giggling and full on laughing fits.

After the shop closes that afternoon, the four of you find yourself walking down the sidewalks, sky overcast with the October chill that creeps in at sunset to steal away the warmth and glow of the day. Standing in front of a bowling alley tucked away on a side street, Alex cocks her eyebrows at the others and says “How about we have some more fun?”

Knees knocking together as you and Steve sit shoulder to shoulder tying your ratty, overworn bowling shoes onto your feet, Robin and Alex return with drinks from the bar and plop down next to you. “Drinks on me tonight, assholes.” Robin proclaims happily - that is until Steve quips back “Good, you owed me for your stupid dead keychain pet again anyway.”

Narrowing her eyes at Steve’s, she ignores his commentary and quickly moves on. “Alright, two on two. Let’s see how bad this is gonna go!” She claps her hands and rubs them together in preparation. 

“Guess it’s you and me, huh?” You bump shoulders with Steve, “I promise, I’m not that bad, so maybe we have a shot.”

Over the next hour the group is rolling with fits of giggles and laughter after dropped bowling balls and rolls down the gutter and baskets full of bar popcorn, kernels falling at their feet as they talk. 

On one side, Robin’s begging for bumpers after four in a row has Alex taunting her to no end. Beers are refilled while Alex tugs on Robin’s belt loops to maneuver around her, palm running over the sliver of exposed skin on her back as she leans down to grab her ball. Cheers are shouted while Robin celebrates a Spare with a chaste kiss to the apple of Alex’s cheek. Comfortable silences are filled with her nervously picking at the strings jutting out on the frayed knee of Alex’s pants and filling the void by picking at the cuticles of her nails instead when Alex gets up to take her turn. 

On the other side, Steve has bumped into you twice. Once causing your ball to fall out of your hands and barely missing your feet. He’s gotten his arm tangled in his open flannel shirt as he tosses the ball, so he takes it off and hangs it over the back of the chair where you’re sitting, the sides of his fingers brushing against your shoulder as he moves away and eyes darting nervously when he hears a tiny scoff coming from Alex, whose eyes are fixated on him with amusement. You and Steve are faring well and scoring better than your counterparts, but every time you go to celebrate, the interaction falls flat - one going in for a hug while the other sticks two hands up for a high five, the next time going to the high five while the other jabs their fist in the air awkwardly. 

Alex slinks over towards Robin and whispers, “This…is fuckin painful.”

Over the crack of falling pins and music on the jukebox, Alex shouts over to you, “So how exactly do you know Steve?”

“Oh, yeah…honestly, we just ran into each other a few times. All very random really. Saw him first at the record store when he was getting his first vinyls. I was there picking up my new copy of the Pearl Jam one…I guess I kind of made the suggestion he try it out himself.”

Robin flits her eyes from Steve to you, now wholly making the connection on why Steve’s probably constantly playing "Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town" late at night. Steve sees her gears turning and he tries to signal for her to drop it, but in true Robin fashion….she won't. 

“So wait, that’s how you met her?” she jabs her thumb in your direction while shouting at Steve.

“W-well, yeah I guess technically. I didn’t really even know your name until the cab thing like…a month later.” he says casually, directed at you even though it was Robin who asked the question. 

Looking at Robin’s blank stare, you fill in the blanks for her when Steve doesn’t continue. “Yeah. Well…Steve kind of knight-in-shining-armored me from a bad date one night. I recognized him from our run ins, but we still didn’t actually know each other at all, but he caught me at the tail end of probably the absolute worst date of the year. Dude made me pay for everything and left me to find a cab myself and I was just a fuckin mess standing there on the sidewalk trying to count my change after paying for dinner.”

“Oh, yes…Stevie loves to be the hero. Dontcha?” Robin pokes at his shoulder. 

“Well yeah, he really was. I definitely didn’t have enough cash for the cab so we shared one and had our first proper conversation, bitched about how awful first dates are - or dating in general, right? God it’s been the worst.” your words trail off as your brain is clearly rolodexing through all of the failures and wasted nights you’ve collected. 

Smiling at Steve as you say it, “We just kinda keep running into one another, so we’re just embracing it!” Steve nods in agreement, tight lipped smile pulling up on the left side, oddly quiet as he listens to you recount how you’ve found yourself here in his circle. 

“Hmm…cute.” Robin says, a little over exaggerated, as she unties the frayed shoelaces of her bowling shoes and walks up to the counter to return them.  

At the counter, Robin stands leaned over while Alex slips her hand in the back pocket of her wide leg denim. You and your teammate for the evening fall in line next to one another behind them, shoulder to shoulder again, looking over at one another, waiting to see who will talk first. 

“We really whooped their ass, didn’t we?” 

“Thanks for having me around today.”

You both spill out at the same time. Both agreeing with a nod and a smile, eyes locked together just as Alex and Robin turn around to face you and move out of your way. “You’re up, Romeo.” She winks as she reaches out to grab Alex’s outstretched hand and head towards the door. Steve watches as they tumble out of the entrance and the door closes behind them, the pair illuminated through the glass by the lights on the city street as his friend leans in to kiss her girlfriend, like some perfectly lit scene out of a movie. 

This all started because Steve tied the stem of the cherry from his Old Fashioned and set it casually next to his coaster in the bar. Gasps of "How didn't I know you could do that?" from Robin. 

“Wow. Wow. Honestly. Who knew Steve was such a Cunnilinguist over here? Fluent in Mumbling in the Moss.” Robin’s teasing, but her jaw is just about on the bar and she’s fighting back the impressed look she has on her face. “Let me get my notebook out. I gotta take notes…please, please don’t stop on account of me. Continue….”  Robin gestures at Steve in a bow like he’s a fuckin member of the Royal Court of Pussyeaters, taunting him with wide sarcastic eyes and a glint of actual curiosity he can clock from a mile away. 

“Robin, YOU have even said it yourself.”

“Oh yes, how could I ever forget the sounds Melissa from upstairs made on our first weekend here? Right. Sorry. Blocked that out of my memory bank shortly after it happened.”

The thing about Robin is, this city has made her feral for new things and new information. Probably something to do with the fact that she can actually live like she wants to more openly, that there’s less judgment or even a community. Maybe it's a lot to do with the fact that the girl who used to cringe at the word boobies is hawking condoms, crotchless panties and sex toys for a living and learning about her sexuality in real-time, but Robin has turned into a sexual sponge. She’s shy about something until she’s not. Zero to sixty in ten seconds flat. She sees it once, asks a few curious and direct questions and suddenly she’s ready to rock and roll. 

Over the past few months, Steve has watched her boundaries literally crumble at her feet. The first time it happened, early in the summer when they first got the job, he found himself sweeping the same spot in the front of the store for twenty minutes straight. He was completely distracted when Robin went on and on extremely enthusiastically about Ben Wa balls to a customer. 

At first he was lingering because the girl was pretty - shiny hair grazing the tops of her shoulders, sunkissed and peeking out of her tank top, glittering gems dangling from her ears. He was admiring the girl, until he heard Robin talking about those balls like she knew what she was doing. He hadn’t thought about those since he had that stupid sandwich shop slip up, but apparently since then, Robin has become a goddamn connoisseur. He almost dropped the broom when she gave the girl some of her favorite personal tips to enjoy them as she checked her out.  

Since then, Steve can’t even count on one hand how many times he’s had to hear Robin talking people’s ears off about fuckin Ben Wa balls. She’s like a Ben Wa sales person every night at the bar, yapping anyone’s ear off about them, talking about no less casually than like it’s talking about how you take your coffee. Just rambling on about how if you slip them in before your date, it pays off at the end of the night, or how if you add a little vibration they go wild. If she didn’t already work at a Sex Shop, he’d tell her to get a job at one with how she’s acting. Steve’s no prude, God no… but he doesn’t think he’s ever going to get used to his Robin talking about what she sticks up her vagina like that. 

So now, here they all sit, at the corner of the bar at Benny’s, and she’s trying so hard not to look like she’s desperate for a lesson, but Steve knows. He knows she’s trying so hard to get information. So she can deliver. She won't ever do something unless she's sure she'll be good at it. She won’t say it out loud, but she wants to return the favor and she’s terrified she’s gonna do it wrong or be awful at it. He knows all of this just by looking at her body language and the look in her eyes. And shit, it makes him cringe thinking about it, but when Hopper leans over the bar and says “I don’t think he’s really that good if he’s not gonna spill the beans? Pretty face like that has probably never been sat on in his life.” he’s all in. He’s not one to back down from a challenge. Stubborn as ever. 

“Well…You’re not exactly wrong about that. Not for nothing, though…I tried. I swear. Hawkins, Indiana is not filled with adventurous girls that are willing to do that.”

“Wait…who did you ask to sit on your face, Harrington? Do I even wanna know?”

“Don’t worry about it Robbie.” He waves her off. “It doesn’t matter anyway. No one took the bait so I stopped asking. Plus, most of those girls didn’t even want me to do any of it in the first place - I mean, after some convincing a few of them changed their opinion afterwards but still...”

“So…wait. You didn’t spend all your years as King Steve feasting on clams? That makes no sense? How can you even self-proclaim you’re soooo great at it if you don’t have that much practice?”

“First of all, I did just fine thanks, and secondly it’s not about practice, Rob. I’m a fuckin natural” Steve grins wide like a cheshire cat around the rim of his glass as he throws back a sip, knowing his comment will send her into a tizzy.

“Oh you’re just disgusting Steve Harrington. So fucking smug about everything.” As she rambles on, Steve lets her go, barely noticing that he’s not paying any mind to her, and he asks Joyce if he can have the jar of cherries behind the bar. Joyce smiles at him and winks, before sliding the glass container down the bar to him, catching it in his hand and wiggling it in Robin’s face. 

“You wanna learn from the best, Buckley?”

He hands his friend a cherry and asks her to tie the stem and the first one took her 18 minutes. She’s awful at multitasking, so while he’s trying to fill the time with tips - about how she shouldn’t dive right in. “You gotta play around a little. Show the girls some attention, work your way up her thighs… don’t just stick your face in it. Got it?” She doesn’t. She’s got her brows furrowed and one eye squinted shut as she’s exaggeratedly moving the cherry stem around her mouth by jabbing her tongue every which way. 

He rolls his eyes and holds his hand out in front of her mouth and tells her to spit it out, like a small child who got in the candy bowl and has to give up her treat after being scolded. The next hour goes by with Steve trying so hard to be a patient teacher. 

He starts from the beginning, making sure she doesn’t skip over his first lesson: Approach but do not enter. He tells her about how no matter how bad she wants to, she can not under any circumstances make full and direct contact. "If you use your tongue like you just did with that fuckin cherry stem you're gonna scare her, okay Jabby"

In an almost reverent and detailed narrative he continues on telling tales of kisses up ankles and legs and warm breaths against their entrance. Teasing and touching and tounging through wet panties. Featherlight touches and sucking purple marks along the juncture of thighs. At this point, Hopper is leaned over his bar looking on like a little kid hearing about knights and dragons in a bedtime story. He needs a napkin to wipe up his drool after listening to the pussy poetry coming off of Steve Harrington’s lips. 

Steve dangles out Cherry #2 for Robin to snag with her lips before moving on to his second lesson: Start slow. Robin has her mouth open catching flies, cherry stem just resting between her teeth as Steve goes on to explain how she should kitten lick just around everything she has to offer, then in. Gentle strokes exploring what’s there, tongue flat, loose, gentle. Circling the clit, running it along all of the places in between. “Opening up the flower,” he says. Bonus points if you make noise while you do it, tell her she looks pretty he says and Robin nods in understanding. 

Palm extended again, Steve nods as the stem falls into it, telling Robin “Nice. You’re getting there. This’ll be important soon.”

Cherry #3. Take a break. He looks her dead in the eyes when he says “You gotta take a break here, Robbie. Don’t do that thing you do about every other thing in the world. Where you’re all in and super focused and too excited and you forget the steps. BACK OFF. Do the thigh thing again, just less is more for a minute here….You hear me? Now gimme that stem.”

Robin pulls the stem out of her mouth, holding it up to her eyeline and sees her knot is tighter this time and she's done it quicker. Much quicker than before. She grins “Got it! Got it! Am I doing good?”

Steve smiles at her, and pops a cherry into his mouth, handing one off to his friend and grinning like a devil as he hands one to Hopper, too. Both take the offering, despite Hopper acting way too cool about it, he plays along. Cherry #4. Dive in. Swirl, slide and suck. Alternate until you figure out what works for her. Listen for the sounds, the breaths. Pick up speed. "Lay that tongue flat again and lick her up from back to front, because she's gonna taste like heaven." Robin nods as he tells her to add a finger or two if she wants it but keep playing with that clit, rolling and rubbing and maybe even some flicking just like that cherry stem. 

All three of them pull their stems out, candied cherries already warm in Robin and Hoppers bellies so they could focus on the stem. Steve, however, pulls out his stem to show off the tight knot and sticks out his tongue with the cherry still there, untouched and carefully maneuvered out of the way of the action the whole time. He makes a show of swirling around the cherry, undulating his tongue with a smirk turned up on the corner of his lips before popping the red orb between his teeth and crushing it with a grin. 

“Okay, fine. You sound like you know what you’re doing Harrington…that…yeah…thanks for that.” Hopper says as he walks away, turning his stem between his fingers, a little too deep in thought and mulling over Steve’s words as he serves up the other patrons of the bar. 

Stirring the ice of her now empty glass, she eyes her friend. Still processing that he gave her such a detailed lesson so she can effectively eat out her girlfriend for the first time, not to mention the fact that listening to Steve Harrington talk about worshiping a woman like that kinda turned her on, it takes her a minute to finally break her silence.

She looks away from Steve before starting in on one of her tried and true rambles. “I gotta repay you for that weirdly effective tutorial. Just maybe one nugget of information. I mean, I may have never been the giver, but consider me a receiver? A tight end? I dunno I was trying to give you a sports analogy because you’re a jock. Were a jock…or whatever. Anyway. Girls…they don’t agree to sit on your face, man, and it's not because they don’t want it. They want it. It’s just, like, REALLY embarrassing.”

Steve looks at her confused. “What do you mean embarrassing?” 

“Like, 100% of us think we’re too big or not good enough. And being like that is a little intimidating. Even my skinny ass thinks I’ll crush a girl if I do it. “ 

“Too big? - oh.” It takes some time for Steve to understand, never having to deal with any type of insecurity like that ever before it never even crossed his mind that it has anything to do with themselves or their bodies. He always thought they just thought he was a weirdo for asking and making things complicated. He assumed they didn’t have time for any theatrics and just wanted to come and maybe sign up for a second date. 

Robin sees the wheels turning and the gears grinding in his head, and she knows this means he understands but is too engrossed in his analysis of the actual injustice of it all to speak words. “So, maybe approach it differently? Or find a chick who is just so fuckin confident she doesn’t give a fuck. But let me tell you one thing…it pains me to say this. Truly it does, but your nose…is MADE for it.”

“My nose?” his face contorts in a confused glare she knows all too well. 

“Oh baby, yeah…that nose is made for pushing a clit around.” 

“ROBIN!” Steve pushes his chair back, feet squeaking along the roughed up floor of the bar, as he walks over to the jukebox and leans over it, grumbling yet again about how she always takes it one step too far.

“You’ll thank me one day, handsome! You’re not the only one that has information to share, you know?”

Steve has never seen Robin like this before. He’s not sure what to do with the information his eyes are transmitting to his brain in this moment, so he just stands there unmoving. “Uh hello? Dingus? What’s the deal?”

Robin has exited her room in those stupid fucking red boots that she now is insisting are comfortable and fully broken in, but the fishnet stockings that follow her skin up her legs are not the first thing that make Steve do a double take. A white baby t-shirt sits under the spaghetti straps of a lacey, silky black slip dress, a cut up to the thigh that she may have put there herself. A chunky, more masculine belt looped around her waist - wait…is that from his closet, he thinks to himself. 

“Please stop looking at me like I’m an idiot. I look dumb, don’t I? Of course I do. I gotta change.” 

The only other time Robin has found herself in anything other than pants was that one goddamn time Nancy Wheeler dressed her up like a China Doll to trick that fancy psychiatrist guy, and that’s a memory she’s tried hard to suppress.But there are no frilly socks and poofy white collars on this dress. No stuffy cardigan. And even though she never thought of herself as particularly feminine, today for the first time in her life she feels it.  

“No! No Robbie, you look … great. I - I’ve just never seen you in like…anything like that. It’s…super fuckin’ cool okay? Like magazine cool. Like not friends with Steve Harrington cool.” he shakes his head as he throws some popcorn into his mouth. “Alex is gonna fuckin’ lose it. You gonna remember what I taught you at Benny’s? Tonight is your night, my friend, because she will not say no to you in that. For sure.”

“You think I’m gonna dine on the Adult Happy Meal tonight?” She says in a sly, teasing tone, knowing just her sexual euphemism will get Steve rolling his eyes and irritated with her in no time. 

“Y’know what, I was trying to pump you up. Tell you you did good…but fine. Be that way.”

And she hated, just hated to admit it, but Steve was right. Alex loved it. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from Robin’s thighs all night. Her fingers lingered at Robin’s waist and along that belt anytime she was within reach and Robin’s skin tingled with anticipation. She felt possessed by Alex. On a short leash. And as the music thumped in her chest, she felt the dull aching throb building between her thighs at the same time. 

So it was no surprise when the two of them pummeled through Alex’s studio apartment door backwards, not taking their lips of one another with enough time to pay any attention to where they were going or what they were running into. Robin’s were slick with spit, cherry gloss and the smudges of the deep plum lipstick rubbed right off of Alex’s own plump lips. 

“This..” Alex picks at the straps of Robin’s slip dress. “This is nice.” She almost growls out, finger hooked under the thin piece of fabric, tugging Robin with her until they hit the edge of the bed. 

“I don’t think I told you how hot you looked tonight. It’s fuckin bananas.” Alex’s lips pepper kisses up the column of Robin’s neck leaving streaks of whatever pigment remained on her lips rubbed off like a trail of smoke, fanning the fire deep within both of them.

Alex’s nose is pressed up and into Robin’s temple, lips parted and breathy and tickling her ear. Tits smushed and pressed together the closest they could possibly be and Alex’s hand wastes no time slithering right into that opening left there by the makeshift slit cut into the side of the satin, up along her pelvis tugging the pesky fishnets out of the way and diving right back down into the hot wetness pooling in Robins’ underwear. 

“Oh, honey. Robin…so wet already?” Her fingers smooth back and front again, swirling around Robin’s clit and sliding right inside on the backswing. Robin chokes out a breathy moan, pouty lips gaping open, eyes rolling back and long eyelashes fluttering in the air like the wings of a butterfly. Alex slides those fingers back and forth, back and forth until Robin looks back at her, grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her away just enough to look into her eyes. Alex doesn’t let up her motions, two fingers loudly moving through everything Robin is giving her. 

Robin reaches down towards the bed and takes Alex by surprise when she picks up one of her fluffy white pillows and pummels it at Alex’s head. “Ow, what the fuck!” Alex shouts. She looks at Robin, corners of her lips turning up into a mischievous smile, fingers curling up into the sky as she shrugs her shoulders teasingly. Alex’s face melts quickly into one of laughter - but only temporarily before she reaches for her own pillow and wails on Robin, smacking her right in the shoulder. 

Pillows are flying, both girls are laughing so much their tummies are starting to hurt. Fluff and feathers from the pillows are starting to puff out and flutter through the air. Robin lands a particularly good blow on Alex’s upper body that has her falling backwards into the bed laughing, and it’s in this moment Robin finds herself giggling, perched right on top of her girlfriend’s body.

She wanted this to happen. Really she did. That was the point. She’s come a long way but Robin is still too chickenshit to ask for what she wants in bed. She’s definitely too chickenshit to take charge. So as she lays here, leaning over Alex, pillows around them, blankets and comforters scrunched up along their sides in a sea of white linen, Robin leans down and connects her lips to Alex’s in the most possessive kiss she knows how to muster up. She spent all night feeling like she was on Alex’s leash, but for fucks sake, she wants to take a little too. 

She’s always a little frantic, but this? She’s tugging Alex’s shirt out from where it’s tucked into the pleated trousers hanging low on her hips tonight faster than she can blink. Her bumbling fingers are trying to find the confidence to be smooth about pushing her shirt up and up and up, but instead it’s just hurriedly shoved up far enough for Robin to get a little bit of access to her breasts. She slows down a bit just enough to savor how her fingers slide under the band of Alex’s bralette and brush over both of her nipples at the same time. 

God, Robin is losing her mind and she’s quickly going to get in her head if she doesn’t follow through. She knows that the second she lets her intrusive thoughts spiral, she’s going to be too worried about doing it wrong, or not being good enough that she’ll just run back home to Steve like a kicked puppy. So she takes a big breath - one that could be confused with someone diving down to the bottom of a summer swimming pool. Alex’s head pops up off the bed and is momentarily confused, but she falls right back into the mountain of pillows as she feels Robin’s hands extend, pressing her tits up and back into the mattress just as Robin’s nose starts to trail down, down towards her belly button. 

Kissing the softness of her girl's tummy, Robin tries hard to remember that this is not a test, before she keeps mouthing at the dough of her hips, dragging the waistband of her pants further and further down. Alex’s hipbone, popping out just for a peek, gets a small kiss from Robin before she swoops her finger down and into her trousers following the seam of her thighs. 

“Rob…Robin…what are you - oh fuck!” She cries out as she feels Robin’s blunt fingernails run up through her slit and back up, starting to fumble with the button. “Robin, what are you doing?”

Alex has felt great during this relationship, yeah she’s more of the giver, but there’s been plenty of grinding and sucking on nipples and self pleasure that have brought her to climax while the two of them have fooled around on couches and over the paper thin walls in their apartment as Steve sleeps next door. She’s been patient and attentive to Robin, knowing she’s still learning and exploring and not expecting her to do more than she’s comfortable with. But tonight she’s getting the distinct idea that Robin wants something a little different. 

“Rob, you don’t have to …just…lemme take care of it”

“NO. Alex. Stop it. I…I wanna try something. Okay? Please?”

“Oh-okay, sure. But just stop if it’s too much for you. I promise, I don’t need you to fingerfuck me tonight if you don’t really wanna go there yet.” Alex is talking while Robin ignores her, working the pants loose and starting to wiggle them down and over her wide and pretty hips. 

“Alex. Please. Shut up. I’m usually the one talking too much, but this time it’s you.” She connects her lips to whatever places she can reach on her stomach before looking back up at Alex, eyes wide and big and doe-like “And …I don’t want ot finger fuck you.”

With absolutely no notice after that, Robin’s head ducks down and quickly finds itself between Alex’s thighs, shoving the pants legs down as far as she can go while she runs her nose up along the edge of Alex’s deep purple panties. She hums loud enough for Alex to hear her and that alone has Alex’s eyes fluttering shut in anticipation.

 Robin starts with small nips and licks along the inside of Alex’s thighs and remembers specifically that a few good, deep licks over the panties might be a nice place to go next. It’s safe for her underneath a layer of protection - mostly for her ego. It’s like the mental boundary she has still standing before she takes her first real lick. But with a deep breath and a smile she quite literally can’t hold back, Robin flattens her tongue and runs it right up the center of Alex’s panties, flicking her tongue when she gets right where she knows her clit is hiding under that cotton. 

Alex’s hands jolt towards the bedsheets at the unexpected fervor on Robin’s tongue and the girl keeps exploring all around the exposed skin before taking the front of her underwear on her tongue, wrapping her lips around it and sucking, lapping, drooling right where she knows that clit is hiding from her. Alex is moaning and groaning under Robin and the sound is music to her ears - a symphony of praises like Robin has never quite heard before. She wants more. Needs more. 

Tugging down the sides of Alex’s underwear she rips them off and throws them on the floor behind her and stares down at what lays before her. Alex, bared to her, legs splayed out to each side. She can’t help but admire the pink shades of her lips and the perfect curls of the hair adorned there. She runs her fingers along the sides of her pelvis, tickling the pads of her fingers with the roughness of where her trimmed bush is growing in just a bit. Robin is pretty sure this is how a dog with a bone behaves, but she couldn’t care less. 

Next, she does something that even surprises herself. Rolling her tongue through her mouth, she gathers a glob of spit and lets it fall right on top of Alex’s clit, holding the hood back as the coolness hits her bundle of nerves. Robin blows gently on the wet skin, a small thread of saliva still clinging to her cupid's bow and Alex can not tear her eyes away from what is happening between her legs. 

Robin dips her head down and rolls her tongue, front to back, side to side before letting her lips wrap around her clit and suck. As she continues, flicking and flitting and moaning into Alex’s cunt, she lets her fingers wander up until she can feel the heat of her girlfriends arousal on her fingertips. She looks up at her and asks “Can I…can I put these in, too? Do you want more?”

“Jesus Christ, Robin” she gasps, “You’re trying to kill me right? Holy shit. Yes. I need more.”

Sliding her middle finger into her first, then second knuckle, just to test the waters, she’s quickly overcome with how soft and warm she feels in her hands. “Oh Alex, you feel so fuckin good.” She works that finger in further before sliding it out and adding in her ring finger, too. No resistance, only the slick sounds of Alex’s arousal and Robin's fingers working her up better than she knew was possible. 

Thanking god she knows how to play a brass instrument, knowing damn well her fingers and her mouth know how to multitask and move in tandem, she starts thinking about this orchestra between her girlfriends legs. Moving those fingers, not letting up with the beat and tempo she set for herself, she bends down to connect her soft lips back on Alex’s, lapping around the place she feels her fingers slipping in and out, licking along the edge of where her lips end and Robin’s fingers begin. Feeling the plunging and sucking around them as her pussy clenches around Robin’s fingers. 

“Ohhh fuck. Robin, goo-good girl, Rob. Feels so good.”

Robin feels her own pussy clench around absolutely nothing at Alex’s raise. Pulling out her fingers, Alex cries at the loss, but she quickly moans louder than Robin’s ever heard before as she replaces that emptiness with her tongue. Shoving it inside, curing upwards and soothing that ache with the warmth of her tongue. She remembers how she rolled and sucked on that cherry, and repeats those movements until she feels a wetness, a creaminess that makes her moan out loudly herself. The vibrations from Robin’s moaning are doubling down on the orgasm crashing through Alex’s body and with a yelp and a groan and a giggle, Robin has her head laying across Alex’s sweat slicked chest, staring up at her waiting. For approval? For literally anything. 

“Jesus, Robin that was….that was some top shelf shit. Wh-what…how? I mean, I’m not complaining but I was not expecting that.”

“It was fuckin’ hot wasn’t it?” she muses with a laugh.

“Lord help me, I…think you owe some thanks to Steve for all that, actually” she says painfully through her teeth. 

“No fuckin’ shit! My man!”

A scoff comes right out of Robin’s mouth, unable to hold it back.

“Maybe if he uses some of that magic pussy eating technique on whats-her-name she’ll be just as obsessed with him as he is with her.”

“RIGHT?”

The windows of the house are actually rattling, filled to the brim with young bodies living in downtown Chicago neighborhoods - friends and strangers alike. Robin and Steve stand outside waiting to enter, looking at Alex for the go-ahead. “I don’t really actually know the guys, it’s just….I mean it doesn’t fuckin matter. Look at this party.” she gestures up to the house, lights flashing from behind the curtains in the windows. “We just gotta wait another minute or two. I’m meeting someone else…”

“Someone else? Who else is coming?” Robin’s volume starts off loud and starts to fade into a smirk as she catches a glimpse of you approaching the group on the sidewalk. 

“Hey guys! Thanks Alex, I’m so glad I ran into you earlier!”

You clock the look Robin flashes at Steve and you almost feel slightly unwelcome if it weren’t for Alex, grabbing you by the crook of your elbow and pulling you forward into the house party, the duo still trailing behind trying to process what exactly is going on and why.

Robin jogs up to Alex’s side as they take the steps of the house two by two as they approach the door and leans in “What are you doing? When did this happen?”

Once through the threshold of the house, the loud music and shouting voices muffled their conversation with ease. “Oh whatever… listen, I ran into her at the coffee shop. Said after she went there with Steve that one time, she liked their Cappuccino so she’s been going back ever since. It was my chance to invite her out…maybe give them a nudge. I swear, I owe the guy after all that lip service last night.”

“You’re trouble, you know that? He thinks I’m trouble…but…”

“Maybe we're trouble together. Let’s go.”

Alex grabs Robin’s hand and trots off to the back of the house in search of a few drinks, trying desperately to lose both of you behind them and force you into close proximity. 

As planned, Steve can’t find the pair anywhere in a matter of seconds, searching over the heads and raised drinks of strangers on the living room, repurposed as a dance floor, it quickly becomes futile. In the loud atmosphere, The Rolling Stones Start Me Up blaring from the speakers, he turns to you, unable to get a word in and get you to move forward with him in search of a drink, he tugs at the collar of your blush pink jacket - one that makes him smirk because he recognizes the ribbed collar and button clasp of the zipper jacket. Looking just like his own matching gray one, shoved in the back of his dresser lately in an effort to try and hide it better from Robin. 

An hour or so passes and Steve still hasn’t found Robin, not without trying because his eyes are constantly scanning the crowd, like a lifeguard scanning the water keeping children safe. She’s fine. It’s not my problem to babysit her, he thinks. She’s got Alex.

He’s still with you, leaning against the wall and watching as you dance along to every song that plays for the crowd. Right now, he’s got his eyes glued to your hips as you move along to Owner of a Lonely Heart and sip your lukewarm beer. 

You occasionally speak to him, but fuck if he actually has heard a thing you said. You haven’t stopped moving along to the music. It’s warm inside, so he’s holding your jacket now, while he sees the sweat dripping down the nape of your neck. Following it as it drips down and around the column of your throat. 

He clears his before he lets himself watch it go any lower, over your clavicle and jerks his head in the direction of the kitchen. “Refill?” he asks, and you nod as the crowd chants out CAN'T TOUCH THIS, jumping in unison and making the floor shake. 

Armed with your fresh drink, you find yourself following Steve down the steps of the basement, concrete walls and dusty corners, a basement not meant to be inhabited but perfect for a late night party full of friends and strangers for whoever actually lives here. The pair of you plop down on a dingy sofa, rifling through your purse you pull out a black package and slide a slim black cigarette out if it’s case. He looks at you quizzically as you light it up, the warm and spicy smell of your Djarum Blacks filling the air around you. 

“A clove.” you exhale. “A clove cigarette? You want?” you pull one more drag off the cigarette and pass it off to Steve, who studies it before placing the filter to his lips. Pulling a drag, feeling something like cinnamon crackle through his lungs, his brain is fixated on how your lips were just right here where his are now. 

“Whoa, that's…different.” He coughs out. “I like it, though. It feels…like…cozy? Does that make sense?” 

Taking another drag and blowing out his smoke in one smooth motion this time, he hands it back over to you. Nodding and looking one another over as you pass the clove back and forth for a few minutes in comfortable silence, you’re broken out of your little bubble by the sound of cheating and squealing from the other side of the basement. A squeal that is unmistakably Robin.

The thump of the base echos against the damp and dirty cinder block walls and you and Steve turn the corner to see Robin, perched on top of an old wooden table, swaying and dancing, tank top straps falling off her shoulder as she sways to the beat 

Rhythm is a dancer. It's a soul's companion. You can feel it everywhere.

Robin is clearly shitfaced, as she falls to her knees and gyrates on top of the table, you hear Steve groan and he runs his hands through his hair before he goes to step forward. Putting your hand on his shoulder to stop him, he looks back at you confused. “She’s got it.” you gesture to Alex, who's standing there looking mildly concerned, while also letting her pretty girl have some fun. 

His protective nature is more evident than ever right now, and it warms you to see it. You’ve only ever really witnessed the snarky jabs and biting remarks that seem to be what their friendship is built on. The concern and softness on his face here is different. Maybe it’s not so much that he wants to be the hero - you remember Robin’s remark the other day at the bowling alley. Maybe he just…cares. 

The crowd around the table is cheering and egging Robin on the entire time, only shouting louder as EMF’s Unbelievable switches on, causing Robin to lose her footing. Shaken up, she reaches for Alex, a dazed look in her eye, while her girlfriend throws her arm over her shoulder and they head towards the stairs. “I’m taking her home. She’s a damn mess. A cute one, but a mess.” Alex says to Steve as she passes him on her way up the stairs. 

You and Steve trail behind, Robin’s lolling head looking like a ragdoll thrown over Alex’s back. “You sure you don’t need my help?” Steve asks. 

“I got it pretty boy. Just…do a welfare check on my girl in the morning. I swear if she wakes up in a pile of her own vomit though - that's on her.”

And just like that, you find yourself the recipient of Steve’s care and concern, as he looks at you on the corner of a quiet midnight street. “Gotta get you home safe too. C’mon.” Holding open your jacket for you - the one you almost forgot he’s been holding for you this whole time - you step inside. He wraps it gently around your shoulders, fingers lingering a bit softly just before he notices and gives you an awkward pat on them instead. 

“Are we walking, or are you gonna make me get you a cab again?” he teases. 

You roll your eyes as you start walking away. “My place isn’t far. Just this way. Y’gonna make sure I get there okay?”

Nursing hangovers and sore bodies the next morning, the pair have their feet sprawled out across their respective couches, curtains drawn tight keeping out the golden October sunlight, hoodies tied up around their heads keeping the noise out and the light dim. Robin gnaws on a bagel, untoasted, uncut just straight from the bag like a heathen while she is mumbling about what she and Alex have been up to lately. 

Steve’s head is hurting, but he really is happy to hear how supportive Alex is of Robin and all the cool things they are doing. He wants to hear more about it even though it feels like her voice is driving one hundred screws directly into his brain stem, so he tips back his bottle of water and tries to focus in. 

“We went to this sick basement venue the other night - the music scene there was so cool. You might have liked it Steve. I hear that vinyl collection you have spinning. I have to say, I’m impressed with your blossoming musical taste.” 

Just then, he’s hit with a chunk of bagel right on his forehead. Begrudgingly he lets the hunger win out, and takes a bite, needing something to sop up the hangover but too lazy to go down to the corner store for a proper greasy breakfast sandwich. 

“Might that have anything to do with a pretty lady who teaches at the University? Hmmm?” 

He can already tell Robin wants to lecture him. He doesn’t want to hear it. He knows what she's going to say, and maybe that’s the problem. Maybe he knows what she’s going to say because it’s not really that wrong, and he just doesn’t want to admit any of it or unpack any of it. Why do that when it’s going to blow up in his face anyway? What’s the point in getting his hopes up if he can just play it cool and casual and make like he’s not phased by it when it inevitably doesn’t work out. 

Steve already had his head running through this himself. The facts are, you are not a stupid girl and you’re not rolling around the city looking to settle down with some schmuck who juggles dildos at his day job. That’s pretty clear. That date that blew up in your face? That was at a nice restaurant. It was a serious date - or at least it should have been. Steve’s a 26 year old boy running around the city like it’s a playground trying to find himself and you’re an almost 30 year old woman with a career and a personality who is just way out of his league. 

“Robin, it’s… complicated.”

“No, no. I’m not seeing what exactly is complicated about it. She’s so COOL. Steve - this is exactly what you need. I don’t know why you will constantly throw yourself like a hotdog down a hallway at anything else that looks at you for a second, but these ones that are good for you. …ACTUALLY good for you, you pretend like it’s a pipe dream?”

With that, they are both startled at the bell yelling out from the phone on the wall, neither expecting a phone call this time. They both look at one another before Robin sighs, pushing herself to stand and clicking the buttons of her Tamagotchi on her leisurely walk over to the receiver. Picking up the phone and laying the handpiece on her shoulder, she continues her focus on caring for her beeping blob, dead set on winning this round before Steve watches her face go white as a ghost. 

Her eyes are boring into his, he’s mouthing What’s wrong and he gets nothing in response. His anxiety is swirling in his chest. It’s the kids isn’t it? He can’t help but immediately think that they are in imminent danger. He’s up and walking over, mentally ready to pack a bag and start the drive home before Robin silently hands the phone out to him. 

“It’s for you.” she says, stone faced and looking at him with pitiful eyes. 

Steve answers, a serious and curt hello into the phone when a familiar voice rolls out of the earpiece that makes him freeze. 

“Son… Can you please explain to me why someone would be telling me these astronomical stories about you - a Harrington - working at a Pornographic Store?”

Shit. 

TAGLIST: @livsters @katie-tibo @johnricharddeacy @angywritesstuff @k-k0129 @tisthedamnseason69 @middle-of-the-earth @thebrazilianatheist  @mochminnie @micheledawn1975 @falling-throughthe-hourglass @rafaaoli @ash5monster01 @gabessock @onyxslayss @scoopshxrrington

[skayafair]

Part 40

Ok so I've slept on it and have a few thoughts now.

First, I'm glad HG decided to tone down the emotional intensity of drama and tragedy - I thought it's gonna be difficult to listen to the finale after some s3 episodes, but s4 was mostly ok and the finale turned out to be lots of fun! I was smiling widely for the most of it. It even made me somewhat like Kayne! A little bit but still!

Second, we didn't "see" Noel die - great, he lives until proven otherwise. Arthur survived a similar injury, people in this universe are surprisingly durable. Noel lasted this long with a neck injury and didn't die - if Kayne didn't yeet him to some wilderness or worse, he'll live. Possible to pol up later.

Third, I thought Arthur was robbed of all his newfound allies, but I was wrong. Daniel and Marie are still in the picture, so Arthur has human "anchors", he's not alone anymore.

Who Arthur WAS robbed of, are allies who can go with him. Oscar is in the hospital and is abandoned in general, Noel... who knows where, and the surprising newcomer in Butcher's face is obliterated. It reminds me of how a lot of official "uncanon" spin-offs of different show return to status quo in the end of he series because they need to keep the cast the same and otherwise the whole outline of the show may change a lot. I'm not sure if that's the case with Malevolent since... yeah, we had a full season of a wider range of characters, but they were concentrated in the same location, which was convenient. How would this work in other cases? Plus, Arthur and John wete going on a vacation trip without anyone else anyway. Also, damn you Kayne for ruining this! They deserve the vacation!

So all in all we're back to where we started, more or less. It was a neat wrap up of the season, together with the location, new characters, some side quests and even a few answers (wild, I know).

For instance, now we know Yellow actually WAS the King in person. Seems like John is rather a big piece of him if Arthur didn't even notice any difference in the entity at first. I kinda liked my idea that Yellow might have been Kayne's creation completely, a simulacrum just for funsies, because Kayne's idea of fun is cruel. So there would have been Arthur suffering from loss of his dear friend and dealing with this ye olde version if him, John suffering either in Dreamlands or in the Dark World, and Yellow, suffering from all the confusion regarding his identity. Imagine how painful it is after all the efforts to remember, to be what you think you were, just to find out that you never were in the first place. All the "I AM THE KING" gone sour and groundless. That might have broken a newborn consciousness of Yellow, his adopted identity. But he also could have explored it and become something new altogether. Man I'd like to read a fic like that.

But he's the KiY, which is why not, too. He has some new info to work with. New lasting impressions to process. I bet those little adventures in the human world and time with Arthur, time with Larson, short and heated but still... connected argument with John won't go without a trace. Damn I wanted them to talk properly SO BAD and now we're unlikely to get it, ever 😭 But at least there was John, clearly uneasy with the idea of killing Yellow. I don't think it's just his concern about himself vanishing as well. He souned rather sympathetic towards Yellow when they talked about him with Arthur. This warms my heart.

Right. There are 3 things related to this.

John's attitude towards Yellow and the King (Yellow still has amnesia so I can't consider him the King, the personas are different) in pt 40, towards the complete separation from them reminded me of going full no contact with abusive/toxic family. It's hard, and one would often wonder if they survive on their own. Arthur having faith in him didn't ensure anything but helped, I think.

The King and John are fully separated now, so John must be safe-er (if Kayne didn't lie) and his journey is more his now. It isn't even remotely perfect since he's still stuck with Arthur but it's still good news. And I believe they don't have to worry about the King anymore. If he regains his memories, he'll know John is of no use to him anymore, and there's no use to try and hunt these two down since they'll win SOMEHOW eventually, anyway. They have powerful patrons. *wink wink*

Maybe some time later, like, muuuuch later, they will be able to talk properly. Like equals. To exchange experience, impressions. The King values art and knowledge, and so does John. I believe his curiosity is an inherent trait they both share. C'mon. The King is too possessive to let such a chance go. GIMME THEIR CONVERSATIONS I NEED THESE

Also, I'm concerned about Larson. Sure he's half-dead (seriously, 3 gunshot wounds in the body - stomach and back, - strangulation, eye snatching, and he's STILL alive, can he just roll over and die please? As a treat?), but physical form has never been his forte anyway. He successfully brainwashed Yellow and tried to do the same to John (ahaha that was a funny attempt, well, would have been, be John not losing himself at the moment, but the outcome was still pretty much predictable and laughable), his power is in his mind. His words are poison, and he can still speak. I am NOT ok with that. With what he can do to Yellow/the King. What if he talks him into something terrible again. Leave my bby be ffs, Yellow deserves some peace and quiet of his home in Dreamlands. Seriously, Larson is terrible to children and I've said it multiple times that Yellow really reminds me of a rebellious teenager.

Next, I've missed the first 5 minutes or so, so I don't know if it's relevant, but CAN SOMEONE PLEASE explain to me like I'm 5 what was up with the Butcher? It was the most out of blue twist ever. Why did he agree to help? Why did he go against Larson when he was so persistent before? I understand maybe admitting defeat and a respect towards Arthur and Noel who caught him, but helping? Was he promised to be set free of smth? I'll relisten fron the very beginning but uh will it really clear thus up?..

Also. When I said "some answers", it was really just a few. We still have no idea what's up with the 3 soldiers, that woman in the woods, the stone. Is Kayne going to show something about that?

And do we just leave the ultimate purpose, the separation device, sitting in that underground place, just like that?

And I did NOT like how defeated, lifeless Arthur sounded when he agreed to go with Kayne. What's the big deal?? He KNEW John was hiding something, knew it was important, could deduce there was some lie due to Johns intense interest in white lies topic, and it wouldn't have been a stretch to assume John really DOESN'T LIKE lying to him if it can be helped and wouldn't harm them (intentionally). Which, it couldn't. All this, prior to Kayne's appearance. All that conversation did was fill in the blanks. Now Arthur has a clear picture. John didn't say anything that could put a blame on himself. If anything, his actions and behavior make so much more sense now. Arthur is WELL aware about the fact that being left alone in the Dark World is John's WORST fear that came true and lasted. It was one thing to end up there the 1st time. Terrible, traumatizing, but how much WORSE it is to be thrown there again after John learned what it's like to NOT be alone, to be himself? To have hope? Just to lose it all. He called to Kayne only after a long time, when there was nothing to hope fore anymore and he could stand it any longer. Did he hope for Arthur to find him? Even if just a little? Just for that to never happen? And then Arthur's words in the mines, about "let's find each other there". Damn, my heart 💔

I understand Arthur may be somewhat shoked and there was no time to process, but if he's gonna be bitching up bout ANY of that, I'll be angry.

It just. It's the only explanation I can find for why he sounded so... like he gave up. Like the backbone he was relying on betrayed him. When none of that actually happened.

[rorirevolutions]

World Building Pt. 3: Archetypes

So one of the big problems I have with some of these shows is how Black and White everything is. You're either a Hero or Villain, but the world isn’t like that its full of different archetypes, from Anti-Heroes to Mercenaries. Here is my little analysis of some characters that don't fit the standard:

Max Thunderman is one of the easiest to make sense of, for a majority of the time he is shown as a wannabe Supervillain but in the last season he suddenly switches to full on Superhero which I believe is unrealistic. Overall Max fits the Sympathetic Anti-Villain archetype (The sympathetic anti-villain is a character that the readers feel sorry for, and if some of their actions weren’t so villainous, the readers might even root for them. The character’s backstory is key here, as it must garner sympathy from the reader and tug on the heartstrings. It must reveal that the anti-villain is acting the way they do due to past circumstances outside of their control and because they don’t see any other options open to them.) An Anti-villain does good things for not great reasons and thats truly what Max does for a majority of the show. Him going full hero makes no sense, neither does him becoming a anti-hero(someone who does bad things for good reasons). He never truly has a reason for a change of heart, only a reason to tone down the bad a little.

However, with Henry Hart we see a genuine slide in his behavior over the course of Seasons 4-5. We watch him become uncomfortable in his role as not only a sidekick but also as a hero and getting in more fights with Captain Man. After he moves to Dystopia its very clear his role is not that of a hero and is now more so an Anti-hero or Mercenary. In fact he shows the same traits as a Classical Anti-Hero Archetype(A traditional hero is confident and intelligent, with few flaws and weaknesses. Therefore, the classical anti-hero is the opposite and is plagued by self-doubt and a lack of confidence. Readers enjoy the complexity that comes with a layered character who is flawed and conflicted. Traditionally, the story arc will follow the classical anti-hero conquering their fears and coming to terms with themselves and their faults to fight and conquer whatever is threatening them.) Its shown especially when he, Charlotte, & Jasper first come to Dystopia they do some good for a little bit until they face actual villains who are serious & terrifying, unlike the cartoonish villains they faced in Swellview. When they messed with the wrong people, Henry had a bounty put on him and he ditched town without saying anything. He ghosted Charlotte & Jasper who were worried out of their minds that he got killed. After that Henry, probably not wanting to move back to Swellview, chooses to stay in Dystopia. He doesn't have a superhero costume or codename thats shown and he doesn’t try to hide his face. He is also more willing to do non-heroic things such as the last time he came to Swellview he had Ray help him on a paid job to kidnap a literal child! He robbed a bank just to pay for a gift for his gf who told him she didn't want it. Anytime we see him in Danger Force he's doing something kinda sketchy.

The Bionic’s are an entirely different story from the others because unlike the others they don’t really have any choice in what they do. They were created to be Super Soldiers and even though they try to escape that, they still end up as soldiers. They are sent on missions by higher ranking forces to do tasks. When they have tried to break off and live as normal civilians they are penalized physically and emotionally, and have been forced to return. The missions they go on are morally ambiguous and they don’t seem to care too much as long as the mission is completed. Even the whole thing with the bionic uprising in S4, Sebastian believed that the Davenports destroyed his creator and stages a coup to avenge him. While it is the most motivation to do something other than take orders, that has been shown so far. The soldiers that follow Sebastian still take his orders, showing it to be more of a shifting of ranks instead of actual freedom. It's often stated that a true hero appears when they step up in a time of crisis to help. Soldiers can absolutely be considered heroes but the bionics aren’t Superheroes. Good comes as a byproduct of their missions it is not usually the initial goal. It only kinda changes for Bree and Chase when they are paired up with the MM crew in EF.

Overall while they tried to show this message in the shows I personally don't think it was done well and am hoping to change that. As always I welcome critiques and ideas <3

The little summaries of the different archetypes are from: https://jerichowriters.com/anti-hero-vs-villain-a-complete-guide/

[7grandmel]

Todays rip: 06/04/2024

Tactical Three-Time Grammy Award-Winning Action

Season 2 Featured on: A HOT ONE

Ripped by Harmony Friends

It's funny: for a surprising number of posts now, I've been sort of writing "around" the works of the ripper Harmony Friends, without ever - excluding collaborative projects like Balcony Fusion Collab - actually covering one of those works for a post. Which is a damn shame!! Because in their four-year tenure on SiIvaGunner, Harmony Friends had a pretty notable impact on the channel's life, from making Donkey Kong a mainstay of the channel's identity through creating the Coconut Gun Rap as referenced in CG Man HD Remastered Edition, to directing the incredible King for Another Day Tournament and pushing the boundaries of the channel's scope as described in NIGHTMARESCAPE 〜Unrestrained HyperCam 2〜 (Final Boss Phase 2), and many ways more. But, most importantly of all, they led the trend for a series of very silly YTP-esque sentence mixing rips on the channel, of which Tactical Three-Time Grammy Award-Winning Action remains a personal favorite.

So what am I referring to with these "very silly YTP-esque sentence mixing rips"? Well, if you'll recall just earlier this week, the April Fools rip Our Sweet Parsley was made specifically in tribute to Harmon Friends' work of this kind - the ones that edit and twist easily-identifiable song lyrics, primarily from Sonic the Hedgehog games, to pure comedic off-the-wall effect. Sentence-mixing is an age-old skill of the YouTube Poop trade, yet it feels as if Harmony Friends' work with rips like Thunder, Rain and Lightning, A Ghost's Bean Soup, and of course The Coconut Gun Rap were what turned said work into a mainstay on SiIvaGunner in particular, to show the potential sentence mixing had as a method of effective bait-and-switching, messing around with the track *just* enough to feel wrong in a fun way whilst still being easily missable up to a certain point in the song. Yet this bait-and-switch appeal was, as I've mentioned many times before, something that primarily worked within Season 1 itself, within 2016, when the channel's mere existence was still so novel, unknown to so many. Season 2's shift to having more takeovers and events was a brilliant way to keep the channel fresh, whilst also directing several rippers in the team to try their hand at once specific joke within their individual style. And THAT is where Tactical Three-Time Grammy Award-Winning Action comes in: on the day of Smoothness.

It feels as if I've talked enough about the Grammy-Award Winning 1999 Hit Smooth by Santana feat. Rob Thomas of Matchbox Twenty for a lifetime already back in Haltmanna feat. Rob Thomas of Matchbox 20, but its appeal should be pretty obvious to anyone who's ever heard the song. Put succinctly, is at once incredibly memorable and well-composed, and has lyrics that are as memeable as can be. Pair those traits with the iconic status Snake Eater from Metal Gear Solid 3 already has in gaming circles, and with Hinchy's aforementioned knack for the silliness, and the result was a rip that felt destined to occur at one point or another. The moment the rip starts, the moment you start anticipating the James Bond-esque opening fanfare to Snake Eater, only to be met with the all-too-familiar first riff of Smooth, you KNOW exactly what the rip is going to be, and you KNOW just then and there how perfect of an idea it is. I'm already a huge fan of rips that do completely original vocal covers with new lyrics such as Maskettaman - Dr. Pavel's Fly​-​So​-​Good, but something about how Tactical Three-Time Grammy Award-Winning Action keeps ping-ponging from Snake Eater to Smooth's vocals scratches a very particular part of my brain - as if I'm waiting with every line to see how it could be merged with Smooth's lyrics. And at every turn, I'm rewarded oh so blissfully.

From outright replacing the bridge's bellowing "But you're so supreme!!" with Smooth's "'cause you're so SMOOTH", to the way that the pause in "not for honor but for you" is removed to give way for extra syllables on the part of Smooth's vocals, together forming "not for honor but / to suit your mood", each change feels oh so deliberately done to maximize both sides of the rip. Althewhile, just like My Sweet Parsley and its contemporaries, the original instrumental still plays - Smooth never overtakes the running Snake Eater melody, merely complimenting it with flourishes from its own vocals or guitar riffs. Yet by the time they actually DO overtake the song as the chorus builds, it all feels so natural already, the Snake Eater instrumentals fit Smooth's emotional high so well at this point - its shocking how well the balance is maintained throughout the whole rip. And because of that, Tactical Three-Time Grammy Award-Winning Action is more than just very funny: it's a genuinely great take on Snake Eater, as the contributions from Smooth in a way help punctuate the song's existing high points, althewhile of course still being very funny.

It's really quite hard to go wrong with a Smooth rip in general, of course - but there is a real magic to listening to Tactical Three-Time Grammy Award-Winning Action after knowing already just how good Harmony Friends are at doing this particular flavor of rips from their work in the prior Season. It's the kind of rip that felt, perhaps not destined to happen, but like...with a Smooth rip underway and Harmony Friends on the team, it was such a natural extension of the joke to create, and one that was followed through on in spades of quality. And after having spent so many posts alluding to one particular ripper, I'm happy to have finally gotten to make one on the ripper behind it all.

[egot1stical]

okay been a few days: finale thoughts.

first: i liked it. it wasn’t BAD. it was mid but it wasn’t Bad. I think my ranking of 6.7/10 is still pretty accurate lol. I enjoyed it. But now I complain

Pacing was crazy. I don’t know why we spent like, half of Simon’s runtime 1000 years in the future. And then the other half of Fionna’s world (which I cared a lot less about) was focused on like. 3 separate scarab fight scenes LOL.

Casper and Nova are fun concepts, but they’re not really. Accurate? They’re so heavy handed with their message of “petrigrof is unhealthy” that they kind of just. Get the dynamic wrong on how. Which is weird. Especially after we just had a whole Simon and Betty episode. It kind of paints Simon as some pushy guy responsible for all the hardships in the relationship. Like, uh, Simon wasn’t making all the choices in the relationship, guys? His problem was pretty much the opposite; he didn’t *make* any solid choices. Betty was the one that did whatever. Jerry literally establishes that Betty was incredibly impulsive about love and such. They’re still unhealthy; there’s still the thing where Betty ended up living her life around Simon because of the curse. But like. I don’t know why they portrayed Simon like that.

Also, they don’t even acknowledge in their heavy handedness that they’re literally like, doomed in every universe. That’s what this series has been building up to right? Simon doesn’t find the crown? They die in the mushroom war. The star universe plays out. Ooo is wiped out at the hands of vampires and they eventually starve too. But then they show Simon getting on the bus with Betty as The Right Thing To Do which is kind of crazy.

Missed opportunities for the whole show: Having F&C cast and AT cast interact aside from Simon. Simon and Ice King interaction. More Simon and Betty interaction. Crying Simon. Using the decade long animation error of Simon having white eyes before the crown as a plot device rather than just pretending it was on purpose (like what they did with the second crown in Crossover.) SIMON. AND. MARCY. INTERACTION. WHY SET IT UP IF YOURE NOT GONNA KNOCK IT DOWN. IT WASNT EVEN IN THE FUCKING MONTA

I did like the rest of it though.

The Simon and Betty moments were good, just wish they were more substantial. And just. More. The no regrets scene was really good. Also, seeing Fionna and Simon's friendship. They're really cute.

I'm a little mixed on Fionna's world becoming magical, but I feel like it works because it's just Slightly. She still learned to appreciate her life as is, but Cake gets to be herself - Especially important when you see the connections between Cake and Simon. (Cake robbed of her mind due to the lack of magic, desperately trying to find a way to get it back or communicate.)

I feel that it should've been way more emotional though. The closest we got was the "too much" scene, which I REALLY liked, but I kind of find it hard to believe Simon "I don't want to move on" Petrikov just Got Better after seeing his fiancée die and then being told that everything was his fault. But yeah, I wish we had More closure on like, his Panic Attacks or depression. He also just kind of. Learns his life matters out of nowhere. Like, good for him, but boy where did you get that from. Tell me in words. Also he should’ve thrown up upon seeing Golbetty (half joke, but more reaction please.)

I’m glad he's moving house though. I’m alright with this as an ending. (And even better with it as a season ending.) But also, get that man away from the bar.

[bookwormlover10]

So the owl house end it was fine from the most part..... But the part that really robbed me the wrong way is how Philip/ Belos dies.... Did he got what he rightfully deserved yes......did I thought that we weren't going to have a wittebros flashback yes....... But your telling me that after all that focus on his brother and he somehow wasn't involved in his death!!! Look I get it he wasn't an important character as others and they wanted to get their story done. But being stomp on was the why the wanted to end the (arguably) most interesting character in the show story ark!! Hek I would of been satisfied if he was just obliterated when Luz got him out of the Titans heart or better yet haveing Caleb and the previous golden guards drag him to hell!! Speaking of not getting obliterated.. how did he reform to his younger self though out season 3 the man could berly keep him self together now he has the strength to transform into his younger self?!?!

And the Titan basically saying that " hey he always been a di#k" also robbed me the wrong way........ Look if you're satisfied with his ending good for you, but when you look at his back story from either the hallow mind portraits or the seen we got in thanks to them, it is really tragic. In my personal opinion I would of like it if he just withered away on his own volition and out of it is kid Philip as soon sort of memory running to a Caleb memory, memory Caleb can have the look of an angry parent saying " did you have fun Philip" and memory little Philip is like a troubled kid and is like " no" then they walk to the sunset.

But that my personal take.. just to let you know Im most going to ignore Philip ending and I'm still going to do owl house stuff on here.

[lilabella12]

1317 - Day 3

Leah is back in the village for the next few days, but nobody spares her a glance. But then someone stops in front of her and starts talking.

Stranger: "I've seen you here yesterday?"

Leah: "That's right my good sir, I've been here most days. Would you spare a coin for me and my brothers? My parents died of hunger and I've no way to care for them otherwise."

Stranger: "Aren't you the girl of that blacksmith? McCairn?"

Leah: "Yes, sir, he was my father."

Stranger: "He would be ashamed to see you like this. He was friends with my father."

Leah: "I have no other way."

Stranger: "We need a new housemaid. For cooking, cleaning, tending the farm and the animals. Our last one died at the beginning of the year. If you promise to work hard, I will talk to my father."

Leah: "Sir, I work very hard. I know how to cook, I do the laundry, I will even help out with the harvest if you command it."

Stranger: "Wait for my courier then. The name is Leonard Dayle. And don't come back here... I can't see the sight of this. If you will work for us I don't want anyone to see you here."

Leah: "Of course, I understand, Sir... but my family is hungry."

He leaves her a few coins and Leah can't believe her luck. After a few days, she gets the news that she is expected to move into the Dayle family home with her brothers as a live-in maid. There's no promise of payment, but they will be fed by the Dayle's. Richard and William are in awe when they first see the house... The Dayle's must be very wealthy.

Sometimes, Evan can bring home some of the food from the barracks. Those are good days.

The sun also starts coming out again and Daniel has hope that perhaps the fields will be fertile for this season. It motivates him and Eve to plant a few seeds, just to see if it will work.

One afternoon while Evan is praying at the chapel in the barracks, Sir Richard comes up to speak to him.

Sir Richard: "Evan, the knights tell me that you often take leftovers with you when you go home, is that true?"

Evan: "Yes, it is, Sir Richard."

Sir Richard: "Would you elaborate, please?"

Evan: "I'm sorry, but I need the food more than ever right now. With my duty to you and the Earl I have no way of feeding my family at the moment. My fields are bare and the animals have died. I have 5 children at home who need at least a meal a day."

Sir Richard: "5 children? Didn't you and your late wife only have 3?"

Evan: "My boy.... died shortly after my wife, he had noone to nurse him anymore and with no milk... The other three are my brothers. They live with me now, he died last year and their house was robbed and torched shortly afterwards. His wife did not survive the attack, so it's up to me now to care for them."

Sir Richard: "I heard of that. The Dresden place?"

Evan: "Yes. It's only ruins now though."

Sir Richard: "We are still trying to find the man who did it."

Evan: "I appreciate that, Sir. And the children do, too. They miss their parents very much."

Sir Richard: "Allow me to help. I will send my daughter to you to help out with the housework at least."

Evan: "That would help a lot. But doesn't she have to care for her own family?"

Sir Richard: "She was engaged to be married last year, but the fool with someone else. I've had trouble finding her another suitor this year... too many good men died. So she will have time to help you."

Evan: "Thank you, Sir. This means a lot to me."

Sir Richard: "We look out for each other here, Evan. You just have to tell us."

So following that day, Sir Richards daughter comes over every day when Evan is working.

She takes care of the children and the housework during the day and leaves in the evening. She is diligent and the children like her. When she and Evan get a chance to talk he also sees her kindness and her growing affection for the children.

One evening Evan allows Daniel to ride out to his former home with Domino.

This is the first time he's been back since that fateful night his mother died. He is in shock when he sees the state of the house he grew up in. He vows to himself that someday he will make this right again.

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