#we can stop pitting girls against each other in general

[riverofempathy]

Jessica Stanley and Bella Swan (and Angela Weber)

[jouno-s]

you know how online fandom quizzes always seem to have a ‘who is your favourite [insert media] woman?’

i feel like i never see this for the male characters? maybe this is just my experience but i only ever see this question posed for female characters, usually because there’s less of them so it’s probably easier to narrow down a choice to just one.

you have to pick ONE female character. you’re allowed to have as many favourite men as you want though 💫❤️

[that-tmr-girl]

Punishment (Sonya x Harriet x Reader Smut)

To get out of the usual punishment, you take it a different way.

Threesome, fingering, oral (received and given), grinding, masterbation, face riding, overstimulation, submissive reader

You were always in some sort of trouble. Sometimes it was on purpose, and sometimes you were a victim of circumstance. While you’d like to say you only made things interesting, Sonya and Harriet would say you made their jobs stressful.

They would also say that there was something about you that drew them in. They couldn't help but find themselves staring and their minds wandering to places they shouldn't. Having you in their beds, taking off your clothes, touching you everywhere, kissing your body, fantasies that were better left unsaid.

Somehow, you managed to get in trouble twice in one week. It wasn't your record, but you were definitely getting sick of being in the slammer all alone.

You were full of pride. It was something else about you that captivated them.

That's why it was so interesting to see you with your hands clasped in front of you, on your knees, pleading for mercy.

They’d do anything to have you on your knees in a different way.

“Please? I’ll do anything to not have to go in the slammer?”You begged again.

Looking at each other, Sonya and Harriet silently asked if the risk was worth it. If you got grossed out and told people, or told people in general, the way they're looked at would completely change.

But you looked so damn nice begging.

“You will have to be punished one way or another. You know that, right?”Harriet asked.

“I know but just not the pit?”You repeated.

“Come with us,”Sonya said firmly. Standing up, you ignored the nerves as you did what she told you. Suddenly, you weren't sure this was a good idea.

They led you to Harriet’s room. She shut the door behind you before they sat on her bed, their eyes glued to you.

“Take your clothes off,”Harriet commanded.

“What?”You asked quietly, unsure if you heard right.

“If you let us have you tonight, you won’t have to go in the slammer. So are you going to take your clothes off or get ready for a night in there?”Sonya asked.

Feeling your breath hitch in your throat, you look down as you step out of your shoes. Leaving your eyes there, you avoid their lustful gazes as you pull your shirt over your head. With your face only growing warmer, you pulled your pants off, leaving you almost completely exposed.

“All of them,”Harriet urged.

Reaching behind, you unclipped your bra and let it fall to the ground. With shaky hands, you pulled on the hem of your underwear, staying silent and going still.

“You don't have to do this if you're not into it. You can go in the slammer. It doesn't bother us either way,”Harriet assured you.

“It's not that. I've just never done it with more than one person,”You admitted, unconsciously covering your chest.

“We’ll teach you everything,”Harriet promised, a smirk forming on her lips.

Tugging your panties down, you stepped out of them. Now completely nude, you chewed on your lip, a nervous habit that turned them on.

Quickly undressing as well, they then stood in front of.

“Head up, love,”Sonya commanded. Doing so, you look into her and Harriet’s faces.

“Back against the wall,”Harriet instructed. Listening, you move until you're pressed against it.

“The safe word is maze. The safe action is kicking your feet. If you want us to stop, just say it. We won't ask any questions,”Sonya explained.

“I understand,”You nodded.

“Tell us what she said.”

“If I want you to stop I say maze or kick my feet,”You recited.

“Good girl,”Harriet praised, trailing her hand down your stomach. Putting her hand on your jaw, Sonya made you look at her as they began.

Reaching her hand between your thighs, she traced her fingers between her slit. Squirming, your legs shook as she teased your opening.

“Be still,”Sonya ordered.

Letting out shaky breaths, your eyes shut halfway with pleasure until she abruptly stuck her finger inside of you, causing you to moan out for a moment. Putting her hand over your mouth, Sonya silenced your sounds as you pushed your hips deeper into her hand.

Adding another finger, Harriet watched your eyes roll back to your head as you felt intense pressure in your lower stomach. She went faster as Sonya put her hand on the side of the neck as she kissed your skin. Unable to hold back, your eyes completely shut as you came.

Letting go of you, they watched you breath heavily, your chest quickly falling and rising, and your liquids spilled down your thighs.

Grabbing your wrist, Sonya pinned your hand to your side as she connected her mouth with your nipple. As you moaned Harriet did the same, swirling her tongue around the bud. As Sonya’s teeth lightly grazed your breast you whimpered at the feeling. When the same feeling came to your other boob you let out a high pitched moan.

Going up your chest, they nipped and bit at your collarbone, leaving marks. Traveling to the side of your neck, they both harshly but down, making you cry out for a moment.

Taking her finger, Sonya plunged it deep inside of you with no warning. Still sensitive from your recent orgasm, you broke all over her fingers.

As she pulled it out, Harriet replaced the empty feeling with two of hers. She pumped them in and out as your liquids kept flowing. Only when you thought your legs were going to give out did she stop.

They weren't done with you yet though. Not even close.

Dropping to her knees, Sonya pressed her face into you, making you moan as you lightly tugged on her hair. Grabbing your waist, she pushed your pussy closer to her face as she sucked on your clit. Moving her mouth slightly down, she stuck her tongue inside you, swirling it around your soaked walls. She stared up at you, moaning and shaking with pleasure. Humming inside of you, she sent vibrations up your entire body, causing you to climax so hard you wore you were going to collapse.

Licking her lips in satisfaction, she collected your cum from around her face before standing up. Grabbing your arms, she pulled you over to the bed with her, Harriet following. Putting her hands on your shoulders, she stood you straight as she sat down.

“Knees, now,”Harriet whispered in your ear. Doing as you were told, you dropped to them at Sonya’s feet. Her legs were spread, putting you in between her dripping pussy.

Your face flushed as you looked at her naked body.

“Eat her out,”Harriet instructed.

Doing as you were told, you kissed and licked her clit, making her moan. Grabbing a fistful of your hair, she forced your face into her. Whimpering at her grip, you shut your eyes as you plunged your tongue deep inside of her. Laying on her back, she wrapped her thighs around your head as she pulled harder. Swirling your tongue around her walls, you felt her grow wetter in your mouth.

Moaning louder, she threw her head back as the knot in her stomach was unbearable. With her eyes to the back of her head, she bit down on her lip to avoid screaming your name as she came.

Opening your mouth, you collected as much as her liquids as possible before she pulled her legs from your face.

Grabbing you, Harriet threw you on the bed as she moved to the edge. Crawling on top of you, she trailed her thumb over her lip as she grinded her pussy against yours, making you gasp as gripped the sheets.

Crashing her lips against yours, she slipped her tongue into your mouth. Sliding it across yours, she sucked on your tongue as she plunged two fingers deep inside of you. Moaning inside her mouth, you pushed your hips up, increasing the friction for both of you. Going as fast as possible, she felt you tighten around her fingers as you grew closer. Squirming under her, you kept making sounds inside of her mouth.

Pulling away, she watched you start to break at her touch.

“Harriet, oh god, Harriet,”You whimpered.

Using her thumb, she started rubbing fast circles on your clit. You cried out in pleasure as you came on her hand.

She didn't stop though. She just kept going, plunging her fingers in and out and pleasuring your clit.

“Har-Harriet? I-I came?”You pointed out, shaking under her.

“I’ll stop when I’m ready,”She said simply.

Shutting your eyes, you panted as you desperately grasped at the blankets. With your head thrown back, you could barely even see as you quickly broke again.

Using her free hand, she opened your mouth. She swirled her hand that was still inside of you around, collecting your juices.

Pulling it out, she placed it on your tongue. Grabbing her wrist, you slowly licked her fingers, making her smirk at you before she got off.

“Watch but don't do anything,”Sonya ordered. Listening to her, you sat on the edge of the bed.

Grabbing her face in her hands, Sonya roughly kissed Harriet. Kissing her back with the same force, she shoved her tongue in her mouth as she pushed her on her back. Grabbing her, Sonya flipped her over so she was on top. Taking her hand, Harriet tugged on her blonde locks.

Whimpering, you squeezed your thighs together as you started dripping at the sight.

Taking her hand, Sonya ran her thumb over her nipple, making Harriet groan in her mouth. Using her other hand, she stuck two fingers deep inside of her.

Forgetting about the rule, you started pleasuring yourself to the sight of Harriet moaning under her. She was shaking as the knot in her core was getting worse. Her legs were fully spread, giving you a nice view of her soaked cunt.

Biting your lip at the sight, you sloppily increased your pace as she came, spilling over the bed. Doing the same, you let your liquid's run down your fingers.

Hearing your heavy breathing, Sonya turned to see you pulling your fingers out of yourself. She sucked on her fingers for a moment as Harriet sat up, spotting the liquids dripping down your legs.

Getting off the bed, they walked over and each grabbed one of your arms, shoving your back in the bed as they spun you around.

“That wasn't what I said to do,”Sonya reminded you.

“I-I’m sorry. I just-I forget-”

“We don't need apologies. We need you to listen to us,”Harriet said firmly.

“I will, I will,”You promised.

“No. You clearly can't.”

“I will. I promise I’m your good girl. I promise,”You begged.

“Good girls do what they're told,”Harriet said simply, crawling on the bed. Positioning herself above your face, she looked at you.

With your mouth already open, you gave her silent permission to ride your face.

Sitting down, she wrapped her thighs around your head as she grinded against you. Sticking your tongue in and out, you lapped up as much of her liquids that were falling around your mouth as you could.

Moaning even louder, she ran her thumbs over her nipples as she grinded a little faster.

Suddenly, you felt your legs being spread before Sonya shoved her fingers deep inside of you while sucking on your pussy. You couldn't help but moan, sending shivers up Harriet's pleasured body. Throwing her head back, she bounced on your face as your hips pushed up. Grabbing your thighs, Sonya kept you still as she added her tongue inside of you. As you screamed out in pleasure Harriet couldn't hold it anymore as she released all over your face.

Staying where she was, she had her head thrown back as she pushed herself against your mouth. With it wide open, you tasted all her liquids despite the way your legs locked up as you climaxed.

Taking a breath, Harriet sighed before getting off of you. In the meantime, Sonya crawled up your body. Pinning both your arms beside your head, she kept you captive as she admired you. Your body that was covered in marks, your parted lips coated in cum, your hair a tangled mess, and the dazed look of overstimulation all turned her on more.

Smashing her lips against yours, she forced her tongue inside your mouth. Doing your best to keep up, you frantically kissed her back despite the way you swore you were running out of air.

Shoving her pussy against yours, she roughly grinded on you. Pulling away, she watched tears fill your eyes as you made strangled sounds. Her grip on your wrist tightened as you pathetically pushed your hips up to increase the friction.

As she felt herself get closer she sunk her teeth into your neck, muffling her sounds with your skin. Letting out a weak whimper, your eyes shut against your will as you both came.

Still, she kept her teeth on you, marking you for at least ten seconds, before pulling away.

In so much pleasure you couldn't even move, you just laid there, eyes half back to your head as you panted.

Already dressed and sort of cleaned off, Harriet came holding two pairs of clothes. Grabbing the pair she recognized, Sonya slipped into a new shirt and fresh underwear before grabbing the extra shirt. Lifting your arms for you, she slipped it over your head and adjusted it to your body as Harriet pulled new underwear up your sore legs, fitting it around your hips.

Both of them crawled in on the other side of you. With the blankets pulled up, Sonya left her hands on your aching cunt and inner thigh as Harriet palmed your breasts. Both of them buried their heads in your neck.

With your eyes shutting and you already being knocked out, you thought about how you could get used to this kind of punishment.

[hawthorneonarainyday]

Who We Are - Steve Harrington (1)

Prologue | Steve 2 | Eddie | Billy | Ian

The two of them had been friends for twenty-two years now. They'd grown up right next to each other, casually holding hands for all their lives. What neither of them had ever considered, though, was that their relationship could ever be anything else. They were just them, Steve and her. Right? Attention! - This is the second part of 'Grey Overalls and Rainy Days'. Please read that one first if you haven't yet! Information you might need ♥ ~ Word Count: 15.648 3rd Person (She/Her) Flashbacks will be presented in completely cursive to better distinguish between now and then, since tumblr doesn't really have the best typesetting options.

In this chapter you will find: Rain, cursing, a down in the dumps Steve, slow-burn childhood bestfriends to lovers, a lot of physical contact, canon tinkering, flashbacks and a fuck ton of spoilers for the 80s movie 'Beaches'. There will be mentions of food and eating, blood, canon level violence, loss, grief, shock, death, sex, trauma, bad parenting, sexual harrassment (specifically at dates) alcohol and reader having her period so please remain careful, my children! At one point reader will be loosely compared to Molly Ringwald, but to not alienate anyone I'll explicitly say that it is not because reader looks like her. It can be, if you want it to, but it's definitely not required. I point that out loud and clear and Steve will do so too, so please don't feel put out by that.

Enjoy ♥

The days rain still lay in the air, although the drops themselves had stopped – for now. Petrichor was still wafting all around them, now with tiny hints of cool night air. Hawkins population was slowly but surely getting home for the night. Mothers ushered their kids ahead of them, teenage girls locked their bedroom doors but unlocked their windows and most of Hawkins general stores were flipping their signs from ‘OPEN’ to ‘CLOSED’.

That was something she did as well.

Eddie held the door open and she skipped out into the night, glad she decided to not deal with the taxes for now. The metalhead himself was talking about a campaign he would love to throw for the party, but didn’t really have the time to and she was reminded of how good a story teller he was. No wonder the boys still loved to invite him around as a dungeon master whenever they got the chance.

“So, I was thinking I’d add in this really messed up dragon hybrid and he’s g- hey isn’t that Harringtons car?” Blinking at the rather rapid change of subject, she followed his pointing and damn straight. That was the red BMW she’d spent all day cleaning.

“Uh…yeah, actually. It is.” Her brows furrowed as she squinted into the night, trying to make out the familiar lines of Steve’s nose and hair.

And sure enough, there he was. Slumped behind the driver’s seat with his head down, one hand grabbing the steering wheel. “What the…Uhm, Eddie, gimme a minute.”

“Sure, go ahead. I’ll wait in the van?”

“Yeah, thanks.” With one shimmy, she shouldered her bag properly and jogged on over to Steve. He didn’t look up as she came closer, not giving her much choice but to knock at the window. Inside, Steve flinched, his hand letting go of the wheel and grabbing his chest. The shock didn’t last long though, because just a moment later he was rolling the window down.

“Jesus, don’t do that to me. You’ll give me a heart attack.”

“Your fault for not noticing me.” Chuckling, she leaned down to peer into the car, trying to see the mysterious flower shop girl. Why would she be there? Well, it wasn’t the first time Steve made a pit stop on one of his dates just to drive her home real quick. The red BMW, however, was completely empty aside from Steve. “Steve, what are you doing here? I thought you had a date.” The man in question just sighed and let his head fall back against the headrest. There was a slight pout to his face. “Steve?”

“Listen. Wanna cash in those burgers now? We could grab some and then go…I dunno, somewhere.”

“Uhm…I mean, yeah. Sure. Why not. Let me just tell Eddie, okay?”

“Eddie?”

“Yeah, he came by earlier and offered to drive me home.”

“Oh. Okay, yeah, go ahead. I’ll wait.”

“But Steve, what about…?”

“Just…forget about that, okay?” The way he said it was more than pleading. Even if she didn’t like it, she nodded and jogged on over to Eddie’s car. He was already inside, the van running and waiting. Unlike Steve, he immediately noticed her getting closer and rolled down the window.

“You’re going with him, I take?”

“Yeah, sorry Eddie. I think…I don’t know, I think he needs some company.”

“It’s fine, Princess, you go check on him. But I demand full intel tomorrow!” She chuckled.

“I’ll see what I can do ‘bout that. Thanks Eddie.”

“See ya, princess!” The van roared to life with a deep growl and she stepped away from the window. It didn’t take long for Eddie to leave the car park behind. She reached Steve’s car just as quickly. A simple pull on the door handle and she plopped into the seat with a content sigh.

Steve’s car just felt… right.

Over the years, she’d spent so much time in that passenger seat that it felt more like home than the single wide she actually called home. Steve next to her watched her buckle herself in before wordlessly putting the car into gear. She didn’t ask where they were going, he didn’t offer any intel on the matter.

They didn’t have to.

Neither of them spoke. Steve veered the car through what Hawkins called ‘evening rush’ with practiced ease while she gazed out of the window next to her. She could see Joyce Byers locking up the door to Melvald’s General Store, still in her uniform. Next door in Radio Shack, there was still light burning. Maybe some last-minute repairs or something. Or maybe the guy working there had forgotten to turn them off. Who knew?

New, fresh rain was starting to dribble down the window, obscuring her view. Within moments, the world outside was turned into a blurry mess of colours and shapes. She could still vaguely tell where they were simply because it was the town she’d lived in for all of her life, but it got harder and harder. Soon, she had to turn her eyes to the windshield, it being the only place that still offered a semi-clear view. The windshield wipers were going left and right in their own rhythm, as if something invisible spurred them on. Well, she knew how they worked. But where was the mystery in that?

Watching the wipers do their job was…hypnotic. Without actively choosing to do so, her eyes were following their path left and right and left and right and she could feel herself get drowsy. Though that was probably less the wipers and more the fact that she’d gotten up early and worked a lot more than expected. Her day was supposed to be mainly office stuff plus the cunninghams car, and yet…

“Tired?” Steve asked, his finger rhythmically tapping against the steering wheel, led by the indicators soft ‘click click click click’. She sighed and sank back further into the seat.

“Yeah.”

“You could’ve said something. I can take you home.”

“It’s fine. It’s just the drive.” Steve hummed lightly.

“Of course it is.”

The boy pulled into the car park of Rosemary’s Diner with ease. If it weren’t so dangerous and irresponsible, she would’ve challenged him to do it with his eyes closed. Honestly, he might actually pull it off. They’d been here often enough. While most people preferred Benny’s Diner, both Steve and her had always chosen Rosemary’s whenever they got a chance. Mostly when it was just the two of them.

Sure, she’d pestered Ian sometimes to go with her. And, far as she was aware, Steve had brought some dates here over the years. Both of them had dragged their little group of misfits with them more than once and while they rarely complained, they both knew that this place never clicked quite as well with the rest of them. Maybe it was the food, maybe it was the atmosphere and maybe it was just the fact that she and Steve had been coming here ever since they were old enough to go to a diner on their own.

Inside, the lights were bright and welcoming, just like always.

Steve held the door for her and she stepped inside, both manoeuvring the etablissement with well-practised ease. Down the checkered tiles to the second to last booth – second to last, never the one before or after that – where both of them dropped down into their favoured seats at the same time. Her back was facing the door, while Steve liked to be able to survey the entire room. Menus were pushed aside; they would order the usual thing anyway. Doreen, their favourite waitress, saw them from afar and nodded towards them. Not to indicate anything, just recognition.

The seats hissed familiarly with every move she made as she drew her legs under her in a position that should be uncomfortable but really wasn’t. Steve was already slouched back into the burgundy leather of his booth, his face…complicated.

That was probably the best thing to call it.

It wasn’t an expression she knew from Steve, which should be impossible after over twenty years together. But then again, one was never done learning. That probably applied to people as well.  

“Hey you guys, nice to have you back!” She raised her head to meet the dark brown eyes of Doreen with a smile. The older waitress was grinning down at them, her braided hair pulled back into a ponytail that made her seem a lot younger than she was. There were some stains on her pale-yellow uniform, likely coffee, but other than that she looked at dewy as ever.

“Hiya Doreen. How’s it going?” She offered while Steve just nodded semi-friendly. Normally, she would have kicked his shins for that, but she accepted it for today. At least he’d greeted her at all. Doreen had noticed too, apparently, because she threw him a knowing glance but kept quiet.

“Ah, you know. Same as always in this old thing. Enough guests to keep it running but never many.” She shrugged. “You’re getting the usual?”

“Sure, we are.”

“Neat-o! So that’d be two cheeseburgers – one without onions – a large basket of fries with mayonnaise and ketchup and two shakes – strawberry and vanilla. Did I miss anything?” She couldn’t help but grin at that.

“Perfect like always, Doreen. Thanks.” Doreen nodded and turned on her heels, and she remembered another thing. “Oh hey, Doreen?”

“Yeah?”

“Add a coffee to that. As strong as you can legally brew it, yeah?”

“Oooh, the order changed. Exciting!” Steve rolled his eyes and she grinned. “Consider it done, sweet thing. Won’t be long.”

“Thanks!” Doreen strolled back over to the kitchen, leaving both her and Steve to themselves. The latter was still quietly staring into the void, his mind clearly somewhere else. Worry dipped her brows as she watched him. She’d seen Steve after bad dates often enough. Sometimes he was annoyed, sometimes he was angry. Sometimes he was sad but tried to act like he wasn’t, fully knowing that she knew, and sometimes he was just plain sad. Those were the things she expected. A ranty, maybe whiny, Steve. A mopey, pouty Steve. Maybe even a sad one.

But he wasn’t any of those things.

On the contrary, behind the complicatedness of it all, he looked…defeated? Reserved? Maybe both. Like a man that had failed. Or better: A man that had given up. She’d seen that face on someone else before, and it hadn’t been a good thing. She didn’t really like seeing it on Steve.

“I’m fine.” He said and she blinked in surprise.

“What?”

“I’m fine.” Steve sighed, kicking her dangling leg softly. “Stop staring holes in my face. And unfurrow your brows, you’ll get wrinkly, old girl.” She scoffed.

“I wouldn’t need to furrow my brows if your soul stopped taking a smoke break, you know?” But her fingers rubbed over the space between her brows anyway. “’Old girl’, really? Tsk.” Steve rolled his eyes and she turned towards the large window to her left. She couldn’t see much with the outside being nearly pitch black and the inside brightly lit. So instead of seeing the car park, she saw her own sorry expression staring back at her.

“Shit.” Edging closer to the window, she surveyed her own appearance with disdain.

She looked horrendous.

Since she came here directly from work, she was still clad in her stupid overalls. She should really start packing a change of clothes…She didn’t have too many nice clothes anyway but the grey work overalls must have been amongst the worst she owned. They were built for practicality and comfort, with a whole bunch of pockets and the loose fit. But they didn’t look great. This one, the one she was wearing today, was especially bad since she hadn’t gotten around to altering it. It was an ill fit in most places and it was stained. Fine for work, not so much for anything else.

And, of course, her hair was a mess as well. It stuck up in weird places and It was extremely greasy after a days’ worth of work. She had a sweaty job, alright? And in front of her boys – and Steve – she didn’t mind. They’d seen her look worse and she’d seen them look worse. But she felt iffy sitting in a diner like that. God, she hadn’t even wiped her face, had she? It was probably greasy as well.

“You could have told me I look like crap.” She muttered, wiping her face with her sleeve before getting to work on her hair. She couldn’t salvage much but she could damn well try.

“You look like you always do.”

…Ouch.

She send the boy a glare and let go of her hair. Not better, but at least differently messy. Oh well, it was what it was. Nothing she could do about it now, was there?

Steve was back to being zoned out. So much so, that he didn’t even notice that Doreen brought their food until she kicked his shins. He flinched, blinked, and looked around confusedly. She rolled her eyes and grappled for his plate. Using just two fingers, she’d picked out the pickles Steve so seemed to detest and replaced them with one of her tomatoes. Sure, he could just have ordered the burger without pickles and with extra tomatoes, but why bother?

Happy with her fixing job, she got to the fries, each one loaded up with mayonnaise, before tackling her burger. The smell alone caused her to feel extremely ravenous, to be perfectly honest, and she nearly melted when her teeth sunk into the goodness that was this burger.

With each bite, she felt the crispy softness of the bun, the crunch of fresh salad and tomatoes as well as the greasy cheese-patty combo. And in combination with the slight tang of Rosemary’s mystery sauce? To die for. Really, in an apocalypse she would likely murder for this burger alone.

Steve didn’t seem to agree, though. At least not today. Usually, the boy inhaled his food much faster than she ever could and she always had to battle him for the fries. Otherwise, he’d eat all of them and leave her high and dry for some oily potato sticks. Likely the reason why she’d started to eat the fries first and her burger last, since Steve did it exactly the other way around.

But today, the Harrington boy picked apart his burger slowly and thoughtfully. Sauce and grease quickly covered his fingers, which he didn’t seem to notice. Only a few bites made it into his mouth each time he looked conscious before he was right back to mindlessly playing with his food. He didn’t say a thing while they ate - and sure, she was more than fine with just existing around him. The two of them were long over the need to always do something together. She couldn’t count the days they had wasted away without talking, lounging around in the same bubble but each doing their own thing. They were masters at just existing in the same space.

In combination with his current mood, however, she felt her patience start to wear thin. It wasn’t even really because of him or his mood, it was because she didn’t know what was going on and thus didn’t know what to do about it. She couldn’t really help Steve if he didn’t open his big gob.

After nearly fourty five minutes of complete silence, spent exclusively watching him pick apart the burger into goddamn atoms, she pulled out her wallet and threw some cash on the table. Enough to pay for the both of them. That, finally, got Steve out of his reverie.

“Hey, we said it’s my treat.”

“Yeah, fuck that, Harrington. You can pay me back later.” Sighing, she fished out some wet wipes from her handbag and wiped his hands. He just let it happen, watching her closely as she wiped remnants of grease and sauce of his phalanges. “Come on. Let’s go somewhere, I need to stretch my legs before I fall asleep sitting up.” He winced.

“Sorry. I can take you home now.”

“Why, trying to get rid of me now, are we?”

“You know that’s never it.”

“Yeah, I know. Come on, up with you.” Not letting go of his hand, she rose from her seat and pulled him up with her. “Bye Doreen!”

“Bye guys!” The older woman waved them goodbye from behind the counter, not even checking if they’d left money. Even if they did forget, they’d be back before it could actually be missed. Not that that ever happened before.

Outside, Steve naturally tried to head towards the car, but her hand in his stopped him. Confused, he turned towards her, keys already in hand and pointing towards his car.

“The car is over there.”

“Sure is. But we’re not going to your car just yet.”

“Huh?” She rolled her eyes.

“I told you. I need to stretch my legs. The ten steps from our booth to your car don’t really do the trick.”

“Wait, what do you mean?” Groaning, she let go of his hand only to get behind him and push him along.

“I mean: Move your arse, Harrington, we’re taking a god damn walk.”

“Ugh, but it’s raining.”

“Cry me a river!” She scoffed and pushed on. “You know, you’re no basketballer anymore. Some exercise might actually be good for you, dumbass.”

“I hate walks!”

“Move your god damn legs!” He did, reluctantly so.

At first, he was going annoyingly slow, obviously trying to not get too far away from the car in case she suddenly decided it was enough walking for a day. The more steps they took however, the more he picked up on speed. It took only a few minutes for them to reach a comfortable pace, easily falling into a rhythmic step beside each other.

The sky was still leaking above them, rain coating them in a fine spray of water that would feel incredibly wet the longer they left it there. But, in a way, it was a nice walk anyway. And what did her mum always say?

‘Light exercise is the best way to sort out a muddled mind, pumpkin. And nothing helps more than walking. Back home, I’d often walk the length of a town, just trying to get my brain in order!’

The memory had her throat tighten up for a moment.

One should really thing that four years would take care of grief, but in the end they didn’t do shit. It still felt the same, whenever she thought about her family. That couldn’t be normal, could it? Or maybe it was. Who knew.

Steve’s shoulder bumped against hers, pulling her attention back to him. Once again, he looked lost in thought. Less zoned out, but still not completely here. His brown eyes, nearly black with the absence of light, were pointedly focused on the ground below them and his hands were shoved into the pockets of his jean-jacket.

With another sigh, she looped her arm through his and looked up at him. He barely turned his face towards her, brows raised – a silent half-question. Which, she decided, wasn’t enough right now. She slightly shook his arm, pushing him to give her his full attention. Thankfully, he did.

“Okay, pretty boy. This is where I stop asking and you start talking. Because I’m slowly losing my mind here.”

“Boredom or worry?”

“Half half.” A deep sigh and he looked around for nothing in particular.

“Me saying something like ‘shitty date, is all’ is probably not going to cut it, is it?”

“Yeah, no. Try again.”

“…Shitty date is probably still true.”

“Okay? Why was the date shitty, then?” Steve scoffed.

“Probably because I have shitty taste in girls. Women.” Immediately, she felt herself bristle.

“What did that bitch do?” He rolled his eyes.

“Don’t call her that.”

“What did she do, Steven?” He sighed, using his free hand to ruffle his hair.

“Okay, so… When she asked me out, she was weirdly specific, right?” She nodded, not caring too much about the long story. But if that’s how he wanted to tell it - fine. “She was all like ‘Do you want to go to the cinema with me on Tuesday at seven fourty five?’ and I thought it was kinda weird to ask like that, but hey maybe she’s just one of those…those OCD-types, right? What do I know? Maybe she just feels the need to specify everything or her dad was a vet or whatever. Don’t know, don’t care.” She didn’t point out that seven fourty five wasn’t military time. “So, I agree, knowing I’d likely have to pester Robin into switching with me, which wasn’t easy because it was a Keith shift and who wants to do those? But who cares, it was flower shop girl, right?”

“Right.”

“Yeah. So today, after I left, I got home, got ready and picked her up exactly on time. When she got in I noticed that she was, like, really nervous for some reason.”

“What, because of you?”

“That’s what I wondered. I mean, I bought a gazillion flowers from her and she rents videos regularly, so it’s not like we’re total strangers. And I’m not weird, right? Like, creepy weird. Rapey weird.” She nodded as he threw her a glance and he carried on. “Right, otherwise she probably wouldn’t have asked me. So, I’m, like, extremely confused as to why she’s so skittish.”

“How skittish are we talking?”

“Her voice was an octave or so higher the whole time.”

“Jesus.”

“Exactly.” Steve shook his head. “Anyway, I drive up to the theatre and try to get a conversation going, you know? Drop some funny lines, talk about work, anything. But she barely answers and is all evasive and weird and I’m already like ‘Oh great, this date is going to be fun.’.” Angrily, he kicked something out of the way. A pebble? “But that isn’t even the worst thing. I mean, sure, I really…I was really amped for that date. But bad dates happen, you know? You get annoyed and then you move on or something. I don’t know.”

“I know what you mean, Steve. Carry on.”

“Dude, I’m on it.” He sighed shaking his head. “Anyway. Theatre. We get out of the car and I go to buy the tickets-“

“Why the fuck did you-“

“I don’t know, I just did.”

“She asked you out, Steve! She can pay!”

“But she didn’t okay? Let me finish talking.” She grumbled something under her breath, but let him go on. “So, I go to buy the tickets, she’s waiting by the door. And then we go in and whoosh.” He mimed an explosion with his hands. “She sticks to me like glue. It’s like someone flipped a switch and she went from ‘why am I here?’ to full on date mode. And she’s, like, pulling all the stops. She’s flirting like a mad woman, batting her eyelids super often and talking about how nice I look and how nice it was that I agreed to this date and stuff. And she’s super loud too, right?” Slowly, something dawned in her mind and she didn’t like it one bit. “So, I am like ‘Uhm…what exactly is going on here?’ but she just keeps talking. And then we get to the front of the popcorn line and some dude greets us and he keeps staring at her all wistfully and shit while she finds 87 ways to say the word ‘date’ in a non-committal context.” He stopped, kicking at nothing at she watched him with furrowed brows.

“She wanted to make that guy jealous. And she used you to do it.” He scoffed, his eyes focusing on nothing in particular.

“Yeah. And I was stupid enough to say yes.”

“Steve.”

“She probably noticed that I was literally buying her out of flowers and came to the conclusion that sure, Harrington is hare brained and will never realise what is going on. Why not use him like some sort of accessory, it’s not like he’s got much more going on!”

“Steve, stop that.” She pulled him to a stop, turning him towards her in the process. Steve’s brows were deeply furrowed, nearly touching in the middle, and there was a definite pout to his lips. “Stop trash talking yourself. None of this is because of you.” He tsked.

“Right. Sure, who if not me, then?” She stared at him, incredulously.

“Her. It is because of her, Steve. She asked you out to make another guy jealous because she noticed that you liked her. She used your feelings against you, not the other way around.”

“And why did I have feelings? That her fault too or what?”

“What are you even talking about, Steve?”

“I mean, how often have I actually talked to her? I barely knew her, right? We’re loose acquaintances at best. So why? Why like her so much that I buy a bunch of ugly fucking bouquets every other day? Those fucking things looked like shit because she’s horrible at making them, but I still spend a fortune on them simply so I could watch her talk about flowers for ten minutes. Shit, I’m not even a flower guy to begin with! Do I look like someone who cares that gardenias are considered deer resistant shrubs?” He really seemed to believe that he had any choice in the matter, which had her brows dip further.

“Steve, you can’t actually believe the bullshit you’re spewing right now.” He shrugged, pushing the moist hair from his face.

“Well, I don’t know anymore. I must be doing’ something wrong, seeing as every god damn girl I come close to liking just ends up treating me like shit.” Pinching his nose, he took a step back. “I mean, I’m not exactly a catch. Right. I know that.” He gestured around, more angry than necessary. “I know what they see, okay? Har har Harrington, high school hasbeen that couldn’t get into college and is still working a shitty job at fucking family video. Right, sure, I get it. Oh yeah, add the ugly ass scars I can’t explain – not that anyone even gets close to seeing them lately. But why can’t they just tell me? I mean, they could just tell me to fuck off and I’d be gone.” Swallowing heavily, he quieted for a moment. “I’m so…I’m so sick of growing to like people who don’t like me back. Who don’t even want to get to know me, like actually me. Not ‘Steve Harrington, the family video looser’, but me.”

Her throat felt tight as she watched him rant, rain slipping down his hair and face. Hearing what he thought about himself was always difficult, because, for some reason, Steve literally thought he was the worst person alive. No matter what she said, no matter what she did, his opinion never seemed to change.

Steve Harrington viewed himself as little more than trash.

“How is that your fault, Steve? Any of that?” Hot anger rose in her chest, not at him but for him. “You couldn’t get into college – so what! Who gives a shit? And sure, you work at family video. But at least you work!” She shrugged. “That’s miles better than anything any of them likely ever did. And liking someone is…We can’t choose who we like. You just…you just like who you like.”

“That’s a bullshit answer and you know it.”

“Yeah? Well. It’s yours.”

“What?”

“It’s what you told me. While I was crying over Ian and cursing myself over ever falling for him you said exactly that.” He scoffed, his head falling back.

“I give shit advise.”

“Yeah, but you mean well.” Sighing, she grabbed his hand. “Steve, listen to me. Properly, okay?”

“Fine.”

“That stupid cunt used you. And that is not your fault.”

“But-”

“No, it’s not. You didn’t do anything, Steve! I mean, what would you tell me? If the situation was reversed? Let’s say I…I don’t know, let’s say I’m on a date with, uh, with…Jonathan.”

“Byers?”

“Yeah.”

“Yikes.”

“Stay focused.” She rolled her eyes. “So, I’m on a date with Byers and turns out he just wanted Nancy to get angry or jealous or whatever. And obviously I’m heartbroken because wow, I’m so in love with Byers-“ Steve winced.

“I’m not in love.”

“- that I can barely contain myself. What would you tell me?” Steve looked down at her, his dark eyes raking her face as he thought.

“…Probably the same thing.”

“Which is what?”

“…It’s not your fault. He used you, not the other way around.”

“Right. And?”

“I’d probably try to hit him with my car. That’s long overdue anyway.”

“Yeah, I get it. Flower shop girl just got first place on my shit list. But that’s not what I mean.”

“Then what?”

“Is it my fault that I fell in love with Jonathan Byers?” Steve turned his face towards her, looking just as wet and sorry as he did, and sighed.

“…No.”

“But I could have known better. He’s obsessed with Nancy, so this was totally unavoidable, wasn’t it?” Steve’s brows dipped.

“Yeah, so? It’s not like you wanted to fall in love with Byers, you just did. Maybe that’s dumb, but you can’t choose who-“ he stopped short.

“Yeah?”

“…You can’t choose who you like.”

“Right. You can’t.” She sighed. “You don’t always need to hold yourself up to higher standards than everyone else, you know? You’re…you’re just human, like the rest of us.”

“I know.”

“Do you now? Because sometimes I’m not so sure you do, Steve.” She vividly remembered many times where his perfectionism hat nearly driven him insane. “You always blame yourself for things that aren’t you fault. Always did, ever since we were kids.” It wasn’t hard to guess where he’d got it from. His parents weren’t ever shy about blaming their child for everything wrong with their life. His mum did it passively, with neglect and pejorative remarks while his dad just straight up told him why he was the shittest thing in their collective lives. Steve, apparently, had internalised that knowledge far too deep.  And now it always came back to haunt him.

Like that one time.

It was a day she barely remembered. The memory was fuzzy, either with age or because her mind simply didn’t want her to remember. What was it, a day after Starcourt? Two days? She didn’t even really know. It could have been years or minutes; everything felt the same.

Hopeless.

Hopelessness was winding around her like thin wires, squeezing and pulling at the same time. Wherever the wires touched her, they would dig into her skin, painfully tearing the tender flesh of her body apart. Maybe she should just have done it, set her jaw and bear with it, just like she’d been doing every time she’d gotten hurt that day. Pain was nothing new to her, in the past three years she’d learned how to deal with it but, for some reason she just…she just couldn’t.

When she looked down at her arms, she expected to see blood. And sure, there was blood. But that was old, already drying. She didn’t see any new blood. Nothing was actually ripping her skin apart, and yet she could feel it. She could feel the lines on her skin, the places she was barely keeping together.

Every movement, every breath was painful. So, so painful that she wanted to scream. To her, moving meant pain. And a lot of pain meant that she was dying.

So, she just didn’t move.

She sat there, on the floor in Steve’s bedroom, unmoving, with her legs pulled against her chest. Why Steve’s room or how she’d even gotten there in the first place was something she couldn’t answer. She just knew that she couldn’t move away from that spot, not without falling apart completely. And in that moment, there was no one who could’ve stacked her back together again.

It was uncomfortable.

Her limbs were falling asleep in random moments and the heeled boots she’d been wearing were likely ruining her feet for good. She herself was still bloody, sweaty and disgusting and she could feel the layers of grime on her skin. But she didn’t…couldn’t care.

It was uncomfortable, but it was safe.

As long as she didn’t move, she could pretend it wasn’t real. She could pretend that her dad and brother were at the shop, like always, bickering over the right way to tune up the Hillson’s sedan. She could pretend that she hadn’t seen the giant monster that her family had somehow become part of. Because every time she thought of it, she remembered what Nancy told them. She could hear Steve saying: “But instead of, like, screws and metal, the Mind Flayer made its weapon with melted people…?”

Melted people.

Her father, the kindest man she’d ever known. The man who’d tried his hardest to raise her, to give her anything a daughter could need. The man who’d taught her how to ride a bike and how to replace a rotary arm. The man who’d cooked her favourite food whenever she felt down.

And her brother.

The big brother, who’d gone and beaten-up Tommy Hagan after he cheated on her. The brother who’d read her stories as a kid, who’d carry her around whenever she was too lazy to walk. The very brother who’d told her, just the night before, that all he wanted was for her to be happy. Wherever that might be.

Those two were part of the people Steve and Nancy were talking about. And she’d known, she’d known something was weird with her dad ever since he’d been so moody and snappy. He was never like that, never that aggressive, and both her and her brother had been extremely confused and worried. And yet, with little to no argument, she’d just packed her bag and left the minute her brother told her to.

She’d gone to stay with Steve, lounging around at Scoops Ahoy all day instead of just…just going home. Home, where she actually could’ve done something. Where she could’ve helped them.

But she didn’t. And now they were dead.

Those were the thoughts going through her mind on a loop. Every time she arrived at the conclusion it would go back to the start, like a record that spun endlessly. Nothing seemed to be able to turn it off. It just spun and spun and spun. Not even the blood that covered her shirt and skirt turning sticky and disgusting could change that. Nor could the knowledge that at least half the blood was not hers but Steve’s.

Steve…

Steve, who’d spent the past hours talking to her with endless patience. He’d tried to get her to eat, to move. To just do…something. Anything. He never pushed her too hard, but he didn’t ease up. He sat beside her, talked about anything. He turned on music whenever his voice turned weak and the silence became heavy.

He was always there, like a shadow glued to her side. Drifting along the lines of her periphery in hopes to get a rise out of her.

Looking back, she was surprised he’d kept it together that well. She didn’t know if she could’ve done it. If she could’ve acted like she was okay for his sake.

Because Steve wasn’t okay. Of course, he wasn’t. And one day, she finally noticed it.

As always, he’d left his room. Claiming to go and order some dinner. He left, went downstairs and was gone for a good long while. Too long for a phone call. Maybe she was on her way out of her trance, maybe she was already on the threshold to being fully conscious. Or maybe it was the fact that Steve had forgotten to turn on the music. She didn’t know.

But as she sat, still huddled against the dresser in Steve’s room, she heard something…weird. An odd noise she couldn’t quite place. Like…like a sob. Or something. The Harringtons weren’t home, of course, so it couldn’t have been them. But that only left Steve. Steve who was gleefully making conversation up until a moment ago, seemingly completely unaware of how one sided it actually was.

That uncertainty was what finally caused her to get up and move.

Stiff as a board and with great difficulty she peeled herself off the floor, using the wall to prop herself up. Every step she took hurt like hell, her poor, battered feet burning like embers. But she hobbled on, slow but determined. Thank god everything was carpeted, because otherwise Steve might have heard her come down the steps. And knowing him, he would’ve gone right back to acting.

But he didn’t.

And as she entered the Harringtons kitchen, she didn’t find the Steve she’d seen upstairs. Instead, she found a barely eighteen-year-old boy, who’d been tortured and drugged. A boy, who’d spent too long high on adrenaline and was now watching his best friend wither away right there, in his room. A boy who didn’t know what to do, how to help.

He was sitting below the phone, the receiver dangling carelessly somewhere next to him, and he was sobbing. Desperate, scared little noises that had her stop for a moment.

“Steve?” She’d said, her voice raw and broken by prolonged disuse. But the boy had heard her, flinching as his head snapped towards her. The moment his dark eyes landed on her, standing in the door way, he’d started to cry even harder. Violent sobs started to shake him, a sight that had her feel dizzy.

“It’s you.” Was all he managed to say between all the sobbing, his face buried in his hands. The sobs got louder too, his relieve mixing into the whole mess of emotions he was already facing. Watching that, watching as he broke down with fear, pain and relieve spurred something in her. With just two little steps she made it to his side, where she sank down to her knees. She didn’t know what to do. This Steve was not one she knew, and right then she barely knew herself. Her hands fluttered about unsurely, touching his hair and his shoulders, trying to find a place to start.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He’d muttered, repeating nothing but that again and again while sobs rattled through his body.

“Sorry…?” She didn’t understand. Sorry for what? What had he done that he needed to be sorry for? Nothing came to mind.

“I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault.” Her eyes were shaking as she watched the boy sob on. Her brain was so incredibly slow already, exhausted from little sleep and heightened adrenaline, so she still didn’t understand. She didn’t understand. “Everything is always my fault.”

Everything.

She felt her eyes tear up, sobs clawing their way up her throat as she realised what he was on about.

Steve was blaming himself for this. He was blaming himself for what had happened down in the Russian base as well as what had happened up in the mall. He was blaming himself for her pain as well as his own. The way she knew him, he’d probably been blaming himself for ever becoming her friend, for ever being born.

Because that was Steve Harrington.

Everything was always his fault, even when it wasn’t. He automatically deemed it so and no one, not a single person, ever thought to tell him he was wrong. They all called him ‘ass’ and ‘moron’, called him out for his time as stupid ‘King Steve’, but no one ever took the time to remind him how great he really was.

If her heart hadn’t already been broken, it would have been the moment she truly realised how lonely that boy was. And how scared he must’ve been of losing her, the last person to always be on his side.

“Steve…” She’d sobbed, winding her arms around him to cry into his hair while she held him. She’d just been holding onto him until both their tears ran dry for the time being.

And she did the same thing now.

With one simple movement, she’d wrapped her arms around his midriff and pressed her face into his shoulder. Steve didn’t hesitate to hug her back. He never did. His arms wound around her waist, holding her close. Somewhere above her ear, she could feel his breath fan against her skin.

“You need to stop blaming yourself so much, Steve.” Her voice was muffled by the fabric of his jacket, but she was sure he understood. She knew by the way his breath hitched, by the way is body started to shake. “It isn’t your fault, none of this.” She patted the back of his head comfortingly, carefully. “And I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for? You didn’t do anything.” His voice was weak and croaky, poorly repressed feelings seeping out of it with every word.

“No, I didn’t. But I’m still sorry.” She sighed, patting on. “I’m sorry because she isn’t. And I’m sorry because she couldn’t see you the way you did her. I’m sorry that everyone always blames you, even you yourself…” His arms tightened around her waist and she heard him exhale a shaky breath. “I’m sorry for all of that, Steve.”

And just like that night four years ago, she’d held the boy while he shed tears no one else knew about.

Because that was who Steve Harrington actually was.

***

“There! There, do you see that?” Robin hissed, pressed close to her side. “Now that isn’t normal. And at first I was all like ‘oh maybe he’s just confused’ but it’s been week and he’s just been doing that all the time. That’s weird, right? Agh, of course it’s weird!” She blinked, ignoring Robin’s rambling as she watched Steve ring up a customer upfront. The rest of the store lay deserted, the day still too early for most people to think about renting anything.

It was Sunday, a couple of long, exhausting days after Steve’s date with the horticulture-cunt.

The week had been quite the mess so far, so she was thanking every available god that it was finally Sunday and she had the day off. And sure, lounging about Family Video with Steve and Robin was an excellent pastime. ‘Spying’ on Steve from behind a shelf, though? Ugh.

“Look, he’s not flirting, nothing! He’s just-just look!” The girl hissed, her hands clasping her shoulders. She could feel Robins nails scratch her skin, causing her to shiver slightly.

Robin had been calling the repair shop nearly every day, more than once, ranting about how Steve was behaving ‘weirdly’ and how this couldn’t be ‘normal’ and ‘please please come over, okay? I’m losing my mind here!’, so here she was. Badly hidden behind the self-proclaimed chick flick shelf – ooh, was that ‘Beaches’? – staring through a small window Robin had created by removing a couple of tapes.

It was not all too interesting.

Steve just did his job like anyone else would. The whole spiel - ‘Hi there’ ‘beep beep’ ‘your total is…’. That was how this worked, right? Because, sure, she’d never worked anywhere other than the shop, but this looked pretty standard to her. Next to her, Robin was still rambling – something about possession and brainwashing – and Steve was bagging up the tapes. The girl he’d just rung up thanked him overly sweetly – gag – and turned to leave the store. The wind chime above the door announced her exit.

Steve stayed where he was, leaning forward onto the counter, before looking in their direction.

“You idiots do know that I can see you, right? You’re not, like, invisible.” Robin stiffened and cursed under her breath and she patted her back comfortingly.

“You tried, Robs.” Was all she said as she grabbed ‘Beaches’ from the shelf. Why not use this oh-so-golden opportunity to organise some Sunday night entertainment? And she’d been waiting to see this one for forever. She even told Steve, the traitor, to let her know as soon as it was available. Of course, he ‘forgot’ to do that again.

“Yeah, maybe leave some tapes next time so it’s less obvious.” Steve nodded towards the shelf and sure enough. Tapes were missing on both sides, making it pretty obvious that someone wanted to spy on him through the three- or four-inch gap the shelf offered.

“You leave me no choice! And you!” Robin pointed at her, her black-nailed finger wafting accusingly in front of her face. “I called you so you’d side with me!” She chuckled, strolling over to where Steve was still lounging about. Steve’s eyes were on her as she hopped onto the counter next to him, offering up the tape, which he took in turn for a clean picked bag of gummy bears.

“Oh, come on, ‘Beaches’? Really? Ugh.” He shook his head as he started to check it out – under his name, obviously.

“It’s Bette Midler, Steve.” The boy just winced and she started to chow down on the gummy bears. Robin was still rambling.

“Hello?! Are you listening to me!?”

“No.” The two of them said and the girl grumbled, yet still accepting the peace offering of gummy bears. The younger girl glanced at her hand, spotting the exclusively white, orange and yellow variants of the sugary sweets.

“Why do I never get any red or green ones? Those are the best.” Steve nodded while she just winced at the other girl’s statement.

“Steve is in charge of the red and green ones, so pester him about that.”

“Wait, what? ‘In charge’?”

“Yeah. Haven’t you noticed?” She cocked her head, shaking the bag. “He eats all the red and green ones. I get the yellow, orange and white ones.”

“Why would you do that?”

“She doesn’t like red and green. I don’t like white.” Steve handed her the cassette in a small bag before turning and leaning his back against the counter. “So, we eat the ones we like and then trade.”

“But there’s always more red and green, so you’re basically being ripped off!” Robin leaned against the counter next to her as she spoke, holding her hand out for more. She got them, of course.

“Hey, she gets three colours and I only get two!” She could feel Steve’s fingers at the hem of her shirt as he spoke, the boy using the proximity to cover up a sliver of skin that had been exposed since earlier. Paying him no mind, she let him pull down her shirt properly and continued to stuff her face with gummy candy. Robin, however, was watching their interaction with raised eyebrows.

“Your relationship is disgusting, has anyone ever told you that?” Both she and Steve rolled their eyes at that. Because they had, in fact, heard that before. That and anything else people would offer about their relationship. For some reason, people just loved to make unsolicited comments about other people’s business. She couldn’t even count the times, that people had asked her if she and Steve had ever had a ‘thing’ for or done ‘stuff’ with each other – big yikes.

Then there was the usual ‘oh your guys are disgusting’, ‘get a room!’ or ‘you’re like an old married couple’. When they were younger, they used to argue back every time because it wasn’t like that and they were just friends. At some point, though, both of them had gotten tired of the same reaction – eye rolls, amused chuckling and a meaningful ‘For now!’ – so they just rolled their eyes and ignored all the comments to the best of their abilities.

Well, except the ‘stuff’ one because that was a disgusting and invasive thing to ask. Steve took that one just as wordlessly, but she couldn’t. The last guy who’d dared to offer that question had earned himself a broken nose and she would happily pummel anyone who wished to follow in his footsteps.

“Only every person in this goddamn town, Robin.”

“I think I heard a Demodog say it at one point.” Steve said, closing his eyes.

“Yeah? Seems like them. They were a rather chatty bunch, weren’t they?”

“Totally. Especially- uh…wait, what was his name?” His brows furrowed in thought. “Henderson named him after that chocolate bar.”

“Ah, you mean Dart?”

“Dart! Yes, right. Especially Dart.” The two of them grinned at that. It should be all unfortunate and uncomfortable, but honestly? One can only shed so many tears about something. At some point, joking will become easier than sobbing.

“Do I even want to know what you’re talking about?” Robin asked, snagging more gummy bears.

“Just the Demodog Dart and his little herd of friends that nearly mauled us to death.”

“Come on, Dart didn’t. He let us pass, remember?”

“Not really. I was losing a ton of blood, Steve. I don’t even really remember how we got out.”

“Oh, right. You got blood all over my jacket. ”

“Sorry not sorry.” They had bled onto each other often enough, even before the whole upside down bullshit. Although there’s a significant difference between ‘shit, I cut my finger while chopping onions’ and ‘oh my god, that Demodog just rammed it’s claws into my torso’. The scars were really different, too.

“You could’ve just said no, you know?” The girl flicked her forehead before going to do…something. Work. Slack off somewhere else. That left her and Steve behind at the counter. For a moment, they did nothing else. She was fiddling around with the bag in her hands and Steve was slowly flicking through a pamphlet or something. Leaning over, she noticed that it was a pamphlet about…

“Wait, is that for college?” Steve nodded, flicking to the next page. “I thought you gave up on college?” She grabbed the pamphlet from him, ignoring his protests as she read through as quickly as she could. That was made a lot harder by Steve trying to get the thing back. Her eyes were better than his though, so she held it barely out of his reach and read on “No way, nursing? You want to become a nurse?” He scoffed and ripped the thing from her hands.

“Jesus, ever heard of privacy? You’re so nosy, do you know that?” He snapped, stuffing the pamphlet somewhere beneath the counter, effectively out of reach. Not that she cared, she knew all she needed to.

“We don’t do privacy, Steven.” Drawing her leg onto the counter, she turned towards him properly, grinning brightly. “Nurse Steve?” The boy groaned, his shoulders slumping forwards.

“I don’t know, okay? It’s just, like, an idea. Nothing more. I just thought, you know…I’m quite good with blood and all that and I’ve seen worse things than whatever the human body can produce. So why not try to make use of that?” He shrugged. “I researched a bit and heard about this nursing program and I’m…I probably won’t get in anyway, so it’s really not that big a deal, right? It’s just- it’s…Robin will eventually get her degree and then she’ll leave and teach little shit’s their ABC’s or whatever the fuck she does and I can’t…It’s…Anything is better than being stuck here for the rest of my life, rewinding sticky copies of ‘Kinky Business’ and ‘Too good to be true’ while Keith is breathing down my neck.” He finished, his formerly gesticulating arms falling down to his sides as he breathed heavily. She allowed a moment of silence to pass, giving him a second to catch his breath as she just stared at him. But eventually, she felt the corners of her mouth curl upwards.

“You know, you’re saying all that but for some reason I just hear-“ Steve raised his finger threateningly.

“I swear to god, your ass is grass if you say…”

“-Nurse Steve!” The boy groaned and let his head fall against her shoulder as she giggled and patted the back of his head.

“I hate you; you know that?”

“Sure, I do. I love you too, Harrington.” She wiggled her shoulder to get him off. When she did, she leaned forwards to stare into his face. “Nurse Steve, man. Honestly, I see it. You’ve got a nurse face.”

“What, in that hot nurse kinda way?”

“Yikes. No.” She pretend-shivered. “But you look kind and caring.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“As I said: It’s just an idea and I likely won’t get in anyway, so…”

“No, no you will.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do, Steven! I can feel it in my bones. So let me predict your future now, young padawan.” With her thumb and index she squeezed his cheeks, effectively holding him in place – and making him look like stuff-cheeked hamster. “You will apply for this course and you will get in. And within the next couple years, you’re out of this shit hole and can spend your days saving lives as ‘Nurse Steve – Hero in scrubs’.” He opened his mouth to stop her, but she talked onwards. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll meet a pretty patient and you’ll wrap her around those pretty fingers of yours in a heartbeat while helping her stay calm during a shot or whatever.” Steve’s brows drew together, enough to nearly touch in the middle.

“Did you just write fanfiction about me?” Thanks to her still squeezing his face, the words came out all squishy and muddled. He seemed to notice that too, pulling himself from her grasp to rub his cheeks. “Dude, were you trying to bruise my cheek? Jeez, your grip is like iron.”

“Those are a handyman’s fingers, Steven.” Sad but true. She always wanted to have pretty, dainty hands like Nancy or Robin or Max. Colourful long-ish nails, pretty nailbeds, soft pink skin…but that was not something she’d ever have. Thanks to her line of work, her hands and fingers were often dry and rough, even stained by oil and grease. Her nails had to be short, otherwise they’d break – they tended to do that anyway – and although she tried nail polish sometimes, it never lasted long enough to actually bother.

And sure, she took care of them. She used hand cream like a mad woman, lathering up every chance she got, and she tried to do hand masks regularly. In the end, however, her hands were a mirror of her craft. They were formed by work. And while they could get a car up and running, change a leaking pipe and a handful of other things, they would never look pretty.

It shouldn’t bother her much, but it did, sadly. Generally, she liked how she looked. She was satisfied with what the mirror showed her and she knew she looked good. Great even! But every time she saw how pretty other girls’ hands looked, she felt like a…like a grizzly. Like a giant, weathered witch in front of dainty, little fairy princesses – however untrue that comparison may be.

Everyone had their little insecurities.

Suddenly, Steve grabbed her hands, pulling her fingers away from a patch of dry skin and her out of her own thoughts.

“Stop picking your skin, idiot. You always say it hurts after you do that.” Shifting his hold a bit, both hands now clasped in one of his, he started to root around behind the counter, producing a small tube of hand cream. Without hesitation, he squeezed a good dollop of cream onto her hands and used his thumbs to spread it around. It was almost like a massage and she felt herself relax more and more with each stroke.

In lieu of anything else to do, she looked at him while he worked away all tension she’d build over the last week.

Mouth slightly pursed and brows furrowed, he looked extremely focused right then. If she hadn’t quite literally felt his hands on hers, she would’ve wondered what he was thinking about. His hair did its usual thing, flopping into his face that was, and it gave him some sort of…roguish allure.

Here’s to hoping that he’d never find out that she thought something like that. Yikes.

But it was true nonetheless. She cocked her head as she watched him, raking her eyes over the lines of his face. They all looked the same as always, absolutely not different to the Steve she’d seen yesterday and the day before that. And yet…

Steve was handsome.

Sure, right, objectively she’d known that. She’d seen the boy as a tween and damn, that couldn’t be compared, like, at all. But she’d never really thought about it much. Steve was always about as interesting as her right arm. There and definitely appreciated – in fact, she wouldn’t want to live without it – but not something one thought about much. But right then, brows furrowed in concentration as he rubbed her hands, she really noticed how good looking he actually was.

“You’re really pretty, did you know that?” Steve raised his brows and looked up at her, clearly surprised by her statement. But he caught himself rather quickly, the typical Steve reaction already kicking in.

“Twenty-two years and you only notice that now? Damn.” She rolled her eyes, pulling her hands from his grasp.

“You must’ve been ugly for twenty-one of them, then.”

“That’s still a year, which is a lot coming from you.”

“Right, whatever gets you through the night, pretty boy.” He grinned at that.

“You know what? You can just tell me that my awesome hand rub won you over, sweetheart. There’s no shame in that.”

“Oh, riiiight.” She nodded, a smile curling her lips as she leaned back onto the counter. “Totally. You just stole my heart, Harrington.”

“Don’t I know it.” He leaned against the counter next to her. She hummed under her breath, using two fingers to gently guide his hair out of his face. His eyes fluttered shut at her touch, a habit Steve had always had. In one feather light touch, she let her knuckles ghost over the lines of his cheek, causing his honeyed eyes to open up once more.

“I bet you do that to all the girls, don’t you?” He tipped his head back, eyes focused on her face, and hummed softly.

“Hmmh. Works every time.”

“Am I…interrupting something?” A voice intervened, causing both her and Steve to turn. Robin was standing next to the shelf she and the other girl had just been hiding behind. “Because I can, like, totally take my break right now. You know, if you guys want to finish whatever that was.” She popped a cheese puff into her mouth, the bag in her hands crinkling uncomfortably loud.

“Robin…” Steve sounded all annoyed, clearly ready to ‘bicker with Buckley’, so she intervened.

“Not necessary. Join us, Steve was just telling me all about how he uses roofied hand cream to drug poor, unsuspecting girls into liking him.”

“Aaah. That must be why you were gazing up at him like he was made of light, hm? Because of the hand cream. Totally, I believe you.” Robin shrugged as she hopped closer and she felt her brows dip.

“What am I, a moth?”

“I don’t know, you tell me?” She hopped behind Steve, using her hands to turn his face towards her, to which he protested loudly.

“Come on, your fingers are all cheesy!”

“Take it like a man, dingus.” Robin just said, holding on and nodding at her. “And? Do you think sparkly boy is the hottest thing in town?” She rolled her eyes and Steve ducked out of Robins hold.

“Man, you got cheese dust all over me. Disgusting, go clean your hands.” He shoved her off towards the break room while rubbing his cheeks against his uniform. “And the question is rigged, because I totally am the hottest thing in town and we all know it.”

“Right, Dingus, whatever you want to believe. You know, that scene felt oddly familiar. Did I see it in a movie before? God, what was it called again? Maybe-“

“Buckley! Sink! Now!” At his famed babysitter tone, Robin instinctively hopped on off without another word. The two who stayed behind, sighed in unison. “I hate her sometimes.”

“No, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t.”

Another shared sigh and Steve was back to fiddling with the tube of hand cream and she watched him for a minute, before choosing to plunge forwards with their conversation. A normal one, duh, not the one Robin had interrupted.

“Wanna watch ‘Beaches’ with me?”

“No.” He said, tossing the hand cream aside and leaning against the counter, further away from her this time. “I’ll come ‘round after work. Chinese or Pizza?” She smiled.

“Pizza for sure.”

***

Early evening had befallen Hawkins by the time Steve made it to her house. The sky outside was quickly darkening, regretfully announcing the end of her day off. She wished she had something to turn back time. Not even a lot, just a day or so. Tiny day. Go plink plink on that little, uh, time turner, and have another Sunday right after her first one. And that one she would spend right here, on the couch, in a pad so huge it could count as diapers and simply not move. Didn’t that sound glorious? Damn. Next time, Buckley could beg all she wanted. She would spend her Sunday hermited and wrapped up like a burrito.

When his knock finally came, she was already lounging on her sofa, braless and clad in only her finest pair of sweats and a giant t-shirt that came from god knows where. The void, probably. Maybe even the upside down. Didn’t know, didn’t care.

It was comfy anyway.

 “Come it, the door is open!” She called, too lazy to move to open the door for him. Honestly, she didn’t really need to and he didn’t need to knock, he had a key anyway. The door opened and she raised her head, just enough to make sure it was actually Steve that entered and not a crazy serial killer. Well, those probably wouldn’t knock but it didn’t hurt to make sure, right?

But nope, it was Steve in all his hang-night glory.

Her head plopped back down after she analysed his choice of clothes – very similar to hers, in fact – and he tsked at the sight.

“I told you not to leave your door unlocked, idiot.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“Not whatever. Dude, you already live in a paper fucking house. At least try to make it hard for someone to murder you, okay?” Not that again. She rolled her eyes at his usual nagging as he kicked off his shoes and hug up his jacket.

“Steve, it’s not that bad, you know? I mean, it’s a house and it’s actually quite spacious since it’s just Tut and me.” Tut was her, very bad tempered, sphinx cat. Well, bad tempered was a stretch. He wasn’t that bad. Tut, actually named Tutanchmeow, just didn’t like strangers all too much. He liked her, he tolerated Steve and that was far more than enough. Right now, for example, he was hogging her one arm chair, snoring loudly and cutely.

“Spacious. Sure. I’m kinda scared I’ll bonk my head if I flinch too hard, but you’re absolutely right.” As if to demonstrate, he stretched out his arms, not leaving too much space on either side. “It’s extremely spacious in this thing.” Steve sighed, dropping a pizza carton on the couch table. “I got us the usual stuff.”

“Perfect.” She sighed, drawing her legs up slowly and carefully. “What do you want to drink?”

“Stay, I’ll get it.” Steve sauntered over into the kitchen and she heard him open up the fridge. He came back with two beers which was fine by her. He’d already opened them and just dropped them onto the table right next to the Pizza before plunking down onto the sofa into the place she’d previously freed for him. Her legs fell right back into place on his lap, which Steve accepted wordlessly. Sighing, she covered her stomach with both hands and looked at him.

“How was the rest of your shift?” Steve just grumbled. “That bad, huh.”

“Yeah.”

“Robin?”

“Obviously.”

“Do I wanna know?”

“Definitely not.” She hummed slightly, taking her time to properly look at him. He looked tired, his eyes drooping already despite him barely sitting down. She poked his side with her foot and he grumbled again.

“People are tiring.” She sighed.

“Damn straight.” He shot back. “And you know I love Robin, I really do. But god, sometimes I wish she would just…stop talking. Just for a minute. I swear, you left the store and her mouth started flapping. I think she was still talking when I went home and it’s just…does she even breathe?” Steve deflated with a sigh, his head falling back to rest against the wall. “I’m a dick for saying, I know, but I wish Robin came with an off-button.”

“You’re not a dick for saying that.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Then I am too. Because every day I wish that my boys would just keep their damn traps shut. And I love the lot of them, but god, they’re dicks sometimes.” She shrugged. “That doesn’t make me a dick, though. That makes me…Normal. I’m just a normal person who gets annoyed by other people.” Steve just sighed, saying nothing for a moment.

“Speaking of.” He said instead, obviously trying to change the subject. “How’s Eddie first week been going?” She groaned and closed her eyes.

“God, don’t make me think about that.” It had been a whole mess. A complete and utter mess, and terrifyingly large scale. “How can one guy be so clumsy? I mean, at this point I’m surprised he can walk in a straight line without falling over. Please, remind me to never ever get in his car, no matter what. I’m telling you. On Thursday, he literally tripped over his own feet, tumbled through half the shop, bonked against one of the tire stacks and unleashed this, like, chain reaction that nearly send Riley flying into the popped hood of Hagans car. In under a minute, the whole shop was a mess and he just stood there, clenching his hands like a first grader that did something stupid and knows he’ll get in trouble. And you know my boys are really good natured – well, except Billy – but even they had really reached the end of their tether by Saturday. Riley even started to dub him Eddie ‘Stumblebum’ Munson.” She was wringing her hands, trying to calm herself down. “I hired him to replace Marvin, but at this point I’ll have to hire someone else to replace Marvin and someone tokeep Eddie in check. I feel instead of lessen he just tripled my workload, because not only do I have to do my job, no I’m doing his as well as clean up after him.” Steve sighed and patted her leg comfortingly.

And then the two of them sat up properly, she started the movie and he propped open the pizza carton. It was a thing the two of them always did. Steve couldn’t really eat when he was annoyed or upset, while she tended to overeat when she was. So, every time they got together to eat, they vented first and dined right after.

Well, unless someone asked for a delay just like Steve had done after his ‘date’. Then they just went about the meal as proficiently as they could.

“Like, what is that movie even about?” Steve asked, chowing down on the pizza and she snorted.

“Obviously you would try to keep this movie from me without even knowing what it was about. That’s just so you, Steven.”

“What the fuck is up with all that ‘Steven’ lately?” The words came out all wonky, pushed past a giant bite of pizza. “You sound like my mum, jeez.”

“Well, duh. I am your mum.” Straightening up in her seat, she did a mock-hair flip, and eyed Steve. “Oh Stevie, how wonderful to have you back home tonight, baby. But then again, you’re always here, aren’t you? Hohohoho.” She didn’t even have to concentrate to copy his mum, her strangely sing-songy intonation branded into her brain after too many sleepovers at the Harrington House. “I see you came from-“ here she scrunched her nose in distaste “-work. Or, whatever it is you call…that. Oh, Steven isn’t that your friend Raven?” Steve was even mouthing that part with her, his mum seemingly not able to remember that Robin was, in fact, called Robin. But hey, they were both birds at least. “My my, it’s a pleasure to have you back. I hope you’re staying for dinner, darling, because we just love helping the less fortunate members of our quaint town, don’t we? Richard, darling! I’m getting a headache, let’s go to the Maldives!” Steve flicked her forehead the moment she finished, shaking his head.

“I hated that. And it was scarily accurate, so don’t do that again.”

“I’m your mum, I told you.” He rolled his eyes once more, getting started on his third slice of pizza while she was only just done with her first. That, ladies and gentlemen, was how Steve usually ate - for all those that have been wondering. He was a total boy when it came to food, finishing copious amounts of it in little to no time. “Oh, and the movie is about these two friends. I’m not sure either, because - thanks to someone - I haven’t seen it yet but apparently it’s like an overview over their lives and their friendship throughout.”

“Ugh, who wants to see something like that?” He gestured towards the TV. “I mean, come on. There’s these middle-aged ladies thinking about their friendship and people go crazy over it? Because that movie has been in and out so often, I’m surprised you even managed to get your hands on it.” He shook his head. “Who cares about other people’s friendships, really?”

“Sooo, if someone wanted to make a movie about you and me and our friendship – you wouldn’t watch it?” Steve spluttered, nearly choking on his beer.

“What? About you and me?” She giggled, leaning forward to wipe some beer off his cheek with the back of her hands.

“I mean, sure. We have a lot to tell, haven’t we?”

“Yeah, but…Why would I want to watch that? I was there for all of that.”

“Hmmh, that’s true.”

“And honestly, Hollywood would fuck it up and turn it into one of those fucking rom-com bullshit movies.” He scoffed, taking another sip of his beer. “You’d be played by Molly Ringwald – don’t hit me!” He caught her hand before she could. “It’s not even because you look alike or whatever, it’s because she gets all the chicks into the theatre!” She grumbled under her breath. Molly Ringwald, fuck that. “Anyway, I would totally be played by Tom Cruise. Obviously.”

“Why do you get Tom Cruise but I have to be Molly Ringwald!”

“I don’t make the rules, dude. Molly Ringwald is in every chick flick on this god damn planet.” She scoffed and stuffed her face with more Pizza. “I mean, damn, I wouldn’t be surprised to see her play an African desert princess at this point, simply because it’s her. She would obviously go up in flames because ginger plus sun equals yikes, but you know. Let SPF50 handle that, as long as the entire female teenage population of the united states runs into the cinema because Molly Ringwald!” He rolled his eyes and she scoffed.

“Do not throw all of us into the same pot, Harrington.”

“Ah, so you didn’t drag me into ‘Sixteen Candles’ like a mad woman, huh?” She scoffed.

“Yeah, but that was- it was- Michael Schoeffling, Steve!” The boy just snorted in that annoying ‘yeah right’ kind of way. “Tsk. You know what, Steve? You keep your Tom Cruise, because you know who they would cast as Billy and Ian?”

“Why would they be in that movie?”

“Well, Ian is my ex and Billy beat the shit out of you. That seems kinda important.”

“Once again: It’s been six years. Let it rest.”

“Never.” She shrugged, sipping on her beer. “Anyway. Billy would be Rob Lowe, definitely. And Ian would one hundred percent be John Stamos.”

“Rob Lowe and John Stamos? Didn’t you have, like, posters of them in your old room?”

“Yeah, so?”

“You were obsessed with them.” How could she not? Like, General Hospital was a good show but damn. John Stamos made it so much better and he wasn’t even the main event. And Rob Lowe? Man. Those eyes? The thought alone made her want to purr happily. Truth be told, she wasn’t mad that Billy and Ian were both working for her. Not that she was superficial, but a lady was allowed to enjoy someone’s appearance just a little, right? A tiny, selfish glance every now and again should be alright, yes?

“Your point?”

“Are you trying to tell me that Billy and Ian, of all people, are better looking than me?” At that, she could only shrug.

“You said it, not me.” Not that Steve wasn’t handsome – she’d just told him he was earlier today, hadn’t she? But nothing could beat John Stamos or Rob Lowe. Oooh, wait. Maybe that guy from ’21-Jumpstreet’. What was his name again? The guy that played Tom Hanson. That guy was great too.

“Wow. You are a horrible person.”

“Am not.”

“Yes, you are…oh my god.”

“What now?”

“You didn’t date Ian because he looks like John Stamos, did you?” She grinned.

“I did not. But, let’s just say…it definitely didn’t deter me.”

“Tsk. You know, maybe I should…” On screen, Bette Midler was suddenly in quite the hurry. “Woah, what’s she going on about?”

“I think it’s because of that note she just found. See?”

“Well, what does it say?”

“I don’t know, dumbass. Someone kept distracting me by talking all over the movie.”

“Huh…” He leaned back, long done with his Pizza, and eyed the television with furrowed brows. She couldn’t help but smile.

Who would have thought. ‘Beaches’ – the chick flick Steve really didn’t want to see – actually managed to snag his attention – oh wait. She would’ve thought. That was pretty much always the case, by the way. He was all pissing and moaning until the movie actually played. Within the first ten minutes, Steve would always be absolutely invested. He’d be yelling at the screen when the guys fucked up, and get annoyed at every bout of miscommunication.

Because that was who Steve actually was.

A big softie that knew how to enjoy chick flicks.

And very vocally so, too.

“No way. No way are they fucking on the opening night of her musical thing. Like, dude, who does that!? That’s such a bullshit move.” Steve threw a balled-up handkerchief at the TV. “Like, she saw that C.C. liked him. A blind guy could see that. Isn’t there something like a… girl code or whatever? Who needs friends like that! Shit.”

Realistically, couldn’t disagree with that one. It was a shitty move, truly. Who slept with the guy his best friend was into? That was just shitty. Like, technically speaking that would be like her sleeping with Nancy back when Steve was head over heels for the Wheeler princess. God, she would’ve felt horrible. No, no she absolutely agreed with Steve here.

“Yeah, such a dick move, Hillary.” Steve nodded; eyes still trained at the TV.

A better one came later somewhere in the movie. And god, this one would totally make it into her ‘Things to tease Steve with’ treasure chest – because that one? Pure gold.

“Oh my god, why do all the guys in this movie suck?!” He’d suddenly yelled, making her flinch. “Like, one fucks the one friend and then marries the other, only to divorce her couple years later - because boohoo selfish - and the other cheats on his wife! What is the moral of the story here, guys? All men suck? Is that what they’re trying to tell me here?” He finished another beer with a noisy sip before falling back into a more comfortable position. “Shit, I hate men, really, I absolutely fucking hate men.”

That one did it. She burst out laughing, a croaky, choked up laugh that started to hurt her sides really quickly. And Steve, slapping her thigh and glaring at her, really didn’t help much. But oh my god, what the hell – Steve Harrington, recently turned advocate for the ‘anti men’ fraction because someone fake-cheated on Barbara Hershey. Fuck, she needed to tell Robin about that.

The end of the movie, however, quickly beat the laughter out of both of them.

As the credits started to roll, neither of them really said anything. Both of them hanging low in their seats, shoulder to shoulder, trying to stomach the heartbreak the movie threw at them.

“…Well that ending was shit.”

“Yupp.” She nodded, wiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand.

“I mean, why did she have to die? Bullshit.” Steve pushed back his hair, clearly not agreeing with what he just saw. “Who makes a movie about friendship just to kill one of them off?”

“Right? I mean, was that necessary? God, they could just have hinted at it, but why show it?” At the thought, new tears blurred her sight. “And, I mean, the whole thing with the ‘Hi’ at the end, why make it so casual? Fuck.”

“Yeah, man. I mean, who walks into the hospital, sees their dying friend, and just says ‘Hi’!? What the fuck.” Silence settled once again, both of them staring at the names flying by on the screen.

Honestly, maybe they were just the wrong people for that movie.

Maybe someone else could have seen beauty or love in it. And sure, there certainly was love between those two, maybe even in its purest of forms. C.C. had driven her car through the night, leaving everything behind because of a simple note and spent the entire time reminiscing about her best friend. She’d raced to another town, because her friend was dying and she wanted to be there for her. So yes, there was love, there was beauty in everything.

But it didn’t register with her.

Not with her, not with Steve.

The problem with her and Steve was likely the fact that they’d both feared for each other’s lives before - more than once. It wasn’t a feeling she ever wanted to have to face again, and it wasn’t something she liked to talk or even think about. Because to her it was neither love nor beauty – it was just pain. She could imagine how Steve had felt when that Demodog jumped her in ‘84. That fucking beast had tackled her down, burrowing it’s claws into her sides, and tried to bite her head off or whatever those shit’s do. A well-placed hit with Steve’s bat had saved her, but damn. It’d been dangerously close. And then, back in ’86, when Steve was dragged into lovers’ lake...god. She felt his hand slip out of hers, she saw the panic in his eyes as he was dragged out of sight and for a moment her mind when silent, nothing but one thought prevailing.

Steve was dying.

Needless to say, she’d short circuited and dove into the water – which she absolutely hated – to save him. A tiny part of her wished she wouldn’t have, because hearing his screams and seeing those monsters maul him was…yeah, let’s just say it was the main setting of many of her nightmares. He knew, of course, because she’d told him. Just as he told her about his dreams. How he often dreamed about running towards the trailer she, Dustin and Eddie were supposed to be hiding in only to find the scene changed. Instead of her, hurt and screaming for help while dragging a bleeding, half conscious Eddie Munson towards the trailer he came back to silence. He came to find her lying right next to Eddie, bloody and disfigured. Or maybe he came back to screams all the same, but instead of hers it was Dustin or Eddie screaming while dragging her unmoving body.

“Hey.” Steve used his elbow to snap her out of her mind. As always, he just waited for her eyes to focus on him and for her mind to come back to the here and now. He didn’t ask questions, because he knew what the answers would be.

Once she was fully present again, he nodded towards her midriff. “You keep massaging your stomach. You okay?” Confused, she looked down at her hands. And sure enough, there she was, massaging away.

“Ah, no. I mean, yeah, I’m fine. Just one of those hissy tummy days.” Steve looked less than amused.

“Period or stomach bug?” Stifling a sigh, she let herself fall sideways on the sofa.

“Oh, the woes of womanhood.” Steve winced.

“Period, alright.” Sighing he patted her thigh. “Poor girl. How about, like, a heating pad or something? That helps, right?” He didn’t even wait for her to nod, he just got up and wandered on. “Where do you keep those?”

“I’m out, but I’ve got a hot water bottle in the wardrobe.”

“Shouldn’t you, you know, stock up on that sorta stuff?” Steve wandered into her bedroom like he owned the place, rooting through her drawers without an inkling of hesitation.

“I usually do, but I haven’t gotten around to it yet. This whole week’s been a mess and a half.” The boy just hummed his answer, wandering back into the kitchen to heat up some water.

“Do you need pain meds or something?” She watched him bustle around the kitchen from where she lay, frowning. “Hello?”

“What?”

“Do you need pain meds? Tylenol? Wait, do you take Tylenol for that?” She chuckled softly.

“I usually take Midol, but Tylenol works. But I don’t need any right now, it’s not that bad.” He did that cute thing he sometimes did, where he silently repeated things to himself in order to commit them to memory. She could clearly read his lips, read the word ‘Midol’ and just had to grin.

The kettle was done boiling and Steve went back into the kitchen for a few moments. It didn’t take him long to fill the hot water bottle, let some steam out, squeeze it and carry it over to her. Carefully, he dropped it onto her achy stomach, sending her an analytic glance.

“I’m fine, Steve. I do this every month, remember?” He winced again.

“Yeah, all the more reason someone should spoil you a bit.” He wandered over to the TV, rooting through her meagre collection of tapes. Picking one up, he removed ‘Beaches’ from the player with a disgusted face and changed it for something else. Then he got up, dropped himself back onto the sofa and nodded at the remote. “On with it, sweet girl. Molly Ringwald is waiting for us.”

***

‘The Breakfast Club’ kept running, both of them not really paying attention. Sometimes they’d talk but mostly, they just both got lost in their own thoughts. It was nice, though. Sitting quietly with Steve, not talking and not really doing anything was strangely comforting. The TV filled the quiet with useless chatter and provided them with light in her now entirely dark living room. Tut had at some point left the chair behind to curl himself up on Steve’s lap, where he was now purring away while the boy tiredly ran his fingers over the cat’s skin.

But not only that.

No, his other hand kept rubbing circles into her calf and she felt like purring herself. The gentle stroking was so rhythmical and comforting that she could feel herself drift in and out of sleep, barely able to focus on any coherent thought.

Until Steve started talking, that is.

“Hey, are you awake?” He suddenly asked, quietly and yet way too loudly. A non-committal hum was all she could offer. “Can I ask you something?” Steve’s voice sounded thick with exhaustion, indicating he was likely just as tired as she felt.

“…Shoot.” She mumbled back, the warm, sleepy atmosphere weighing on her heavily. Seriously, she’d probably stopped him from saying anything, had she had half a mind to. Sleepy Steve was a dangerous version of him. He was often too honest and too curious for his own good.

“So, uhm…we were talking about Ian earlier and it got me thinking.”

“…Ian?”

“Yeah.” Steve looked at her, his head tipped back against the couch. “You never really told me why you guys broke up. I mean, one day you guys were all in love and the next you’re crying in front of my door talking about how you needed a place to stay until Ian was gone.”

“Hmmh…” She sighed at the memory. She’d cried so much that night. Poor Steve was likely absolutely overwhelmed, but he’d taken it like a champ. He didn’t ask any questions, he didn’t cuss Ian out, he didn’t do anything but pat her back and let her cry. “Ian…” she started, her voice barely more than a whisper “…you know, he’s a good guy.” He really was. Ian looked like a douchebag with that pretty face of his and those broad shoulders, but he was actually one of the kindest souls she knew. He was caring, warm and soft. Loving. “And because of that, I had to tell him to leave.” Steve frowned.

“Okay, you lost me already. I’m tired, please go easy on me.” She grumbled, getting up only to plop down the other way around, her head against his shoulder. He put his arm around her, accepting her tired form into a loose embrace, while using the other to secure the hot water bottle back against her torso.

“I have nightmares. As you know.” He’d been there for many of them. “I mean, they’re not as bad now but...” Steve nodded, saving her the need of more explanation. “The worst, most frequent ones started back in ’85. And…well, Ian could deal with those. He kinda understood why they were happening, with Starcourt and my dad and brother and everything…or he thought he understood, at least.” She hugged the lukewarm water bottle closer against herself. “They got better the more time passed… which he noticed. And that would’ve been fine, I guess, had it not been for all that ’86 crap.” She focused on the TV in front where Molly Ringwald and Judd Nelson were bickering on. Blegh. “When they got worse again, he started to ask questions.” So many damn questions. “I didn’t want to lie to him… but I could obviously not tell him the truth.” If she closed her eyes, she could clearly remember the hurt on his face, the way his blue eyes turned hard whenever she shot him down. Ian…was an extremely kind man. But he was also someone who hated being shut out. She sighed. “A relationship filled with secrets and lies can’t work. I saw how he stopped trusting me every time I told him that it would be fine. That he didn’t need to know.” She bit her lips at the memory. “And every time he would ask more and more questions. He’d ask about my scars, about my dreams, my fear of dogs and tight spaces and why I wouldn’t just talk to him…And every time I could just look at him and say ‘It’s fine, Ian. It’s okay now’.” Tiredly, she wiped some stray tears from her cheeks. It was so dumb to keep crying about that – it had been a year now and both she and Ian had moved on. That didn’t make it any easier, though. “It hurt him; I know it did. And hurting him hurt me, so I just…”

“Let him go.” She nodded, closing her eyes against the new tears threatening to form. Steve sighed, stroking her arm with gentle fingers. “I know, what’s done is done. But couldn’t you just have… told him the truth?”

“Would you? If it was…I don’t know, anyone really.” Steve sighed again, placing his chin on her hair.

“…Probably not, no.”

“See?” She sighed. “He’s better off without all this. Without me.”

“Don’t say that. That’s not true. Nobody is better off without you, you’re great.” She snorted.

“Yeah…thanks, Steve.”

“You know I really mean that.”

“I do…” But believing it was another thing. Honestly, could she even rant about Steve never listening to her when she told him to stop blaming himself? She wasn’t any better. She hid away from everyone and everything, shut out anyone that wasn’t already involved simply because she feared she would make their lives worse by just existing next to them.

“Is that the reason you stopped dating too? The whole ‘questions you can’t answer’ thing?” She sighed against his neck, shrugging slightly.

“I don’t know…Maybe. Or maybe it was just…”

“Hm?” He looked down at her and she shrugged again.

“I really… really loved Ian. A lot.” If it weren’t so cheesy, she’d go as far as call him her first love. “I did try to move on. I went on dates and I tried really hard to get to know people. And sure, sometimes it was about getting laid, but others were genuine attempts at meeting someone I want to be with. But it just…it wasn’t the same.” He nodded, because that he knew. She’d told him every time, ranting about how the people she’d met were weird or rude. How they commented on her ‘workers hands’ or her body, how they tried to kiss her when she clearly said no. And even if she said yes, they somehow found a way to make her uncomfortable by getting all grabby and forward. Those were the worst kind of dates, the kind that made her feel dirty and used. The ones, where all she wanted to do was take a long, hot shower and forget about it.

Of course, not every date was like that.

There were many decent people around Hawkins if one cared to look for them. But even if it wasn’t that…they just never seemed right. Some dates were objectively nice, especially those that her friends had helped her set up. Steve and the others knew her, they knew who she might click with. Those were the dates where people would hold doors, ask questions and be friendly and polite. They wore nice clothes and the conversations flowed easily and continuously. And yet, even after those dates, the best part was the drive home.

“It just never…” she took a deep breath “…never felt right with anyone else.”

“…Yeah, I get it.” Steve said, shifting his arm to hold her a tiny bit closer. “I keep looking for something special, but it’s…it’s just never there. Maybe I should just, you know, wait and see. Give up the active hunt. Relax more…” Steve ran his fingers over her hair absentmindedly. “I don’t even know what exactly I want, what exactly I’m expecting to find. I just always know that this, whatever this may be, isn’t it.” They sighed in unison at that. “We’re a mess.”

“Fuck yeah we are.”

The two of them chuckled tiredly, huddled together on her small couch in the tiny single wide she called home, while ‘Breakfast Club’ slowly but surely reached its conclusion. Tut was happily snoring away on Steve’s lap, the sound mixing with the chatter of the TV, blending into a calming sea of noise. With every chuckle she felt Steve’s body vibrate softly against hers, a warm pressure, soft but firm at the same time. She could feel his breath against her hairline, he felt her against his neck – soft puffs of warm air that left way to soon.

The whole situation should have been uncomfortable or emotional. It would have been with anyone else. It would’ve been too much skinship, a blatant invasion of personal space. Every word would have been a dance along the lines of too honest and not honest enough, trying to toe around the dreaded overshare but keeping the whole talk genuine and open. Lies would have been told, truths would’ve been omitted in favour of not seeming too weak or too pathetic.

This conversation should’ve been so difficult, admitting their feelings and hopes should’ve been… and yet it wasn’t.

Instead, it was warm and soft, honest and quiet. A mere whisper in the dark. An ear that listened to the soft words of another, not questioning what was shared. It was the two of them, sharing everything while leaving each other room to breathe, to just be. Accepting the things that were said without judgement, without forcing the other person to act like something they weren’t.

It was comfort and ease, the routine of a long, close friendship. A friendship that had been through highs and lows, that had seen the worst parts of each person. A friendship, that persevered when one abandoned the other, when the wrong words were yelled at the wrong time, when promises were broken and forgotten. Time had tested it with girlfriends, mistakes and the supernatural.

Through that, it became a friendship that survived all the hurt thrown at it. It survived, because the two of them knew that, in the end, they would always choose each other again.

It was a friendship, that was like breathing.

Easy and thoughtless.

Because that was what the two of them truly were.

[sippinggossip]

Why are you guys so quick to assume Victoria is a terrible person?

Do we have any concrete proof she doesn't get along with ALL her friends' gfs?

Not an assumption

Not her not liking posts or not following them

We need concrete proof

We know at the very least...

She and Lavinia get along

She and Dove haven't gotten a chance to truly hang out since she's been busy ASF for the past year

We nothing on her and cyd afaik

And stop with the body shaming, Idgaf if she gets injections or surgery stop associating cosmetic enhancements with ill morals, it's backwards, outdated and not aligned with the feminist values that should be present today, doing so only pits women against each other, damned if she does damned if she doesn't

If she hates the way she looks and does nothing she's the madonna who needs to be shown how to love herself

If she hates the way she looks and changes it she's the superficial whore who needs to be shown how to love herself

If she loves the way she looks and doesn't change then she's the superficial whore who needs to be taken down a few pegs and humbled

If she loves the way she looks and gets enhancements then she's the superficial whore whose vain and self-hating and needs to be taken down a few pegs and humbled

No matter what she does she cannot win

Stop with the fucking slut shaming seriously it's getting irritating how people feel the need to hyper criticize and over police what she wears bc what she wears when performing as a DJ or on stage is probably not the same thing that she's wearing and day-to-day life and regardless it's not our business to go this hard and critiquing over analyzing and being unbearable bitches to her

Most likely you have been slut-shamed in one way or another and does not feel good so why are we doing it to someone else especially someone who we are claiming to be a fan of and if you've slut shamed someone get the fuck off your high horse seriously putting others down won't lift you up and it's getting really irritating seeing the amount of slut shaming and misogynistic derogatory remarks made about Victoria and her friends especially considering the band and their aesthetic I can assure you the last thing they're doing is worrying about what the fuck other people are wearing

Måneskin is the LAST band that would demand modesty If you want to dress modestly congratulations that's your business more power to you whatever makes you feel comfortable

If you want to dress in a way that is not modest congratulations that's your business more power to you whatever makes you feel comfortable

It truly truly gives pick me energy the way that you guys are ripping Victoria to shreds because the guys go topless quite often but when the guys do it it's more acceptable than my Victoria is topless

Who fucking cares if she's topless boobs are boobs stop sexualizing the human body stop assuming nudity is inherently sexual and even if an adult nude body is posted online in a sexual manner that is not a moral failing and is in fact surprisingly the business of the adult who posted their own body

Her being topless on a boat or at the beach is not a moral failing is not a bad thing and it's not surprising given The fact that in places like Italy being topless on the beach is completely normal and don't even try to use the excuse that you're American and for Americans going topless is not normal because I'm American unless you're living in middle of bum fuck nowhere USA (on the coasts at least) you can find a topless beach and in general we need to stop over sexualizing the human form this is also something that the band has been pushing for quite some time

The guys are topless in boats and at the beach why is it bad for her but not for the guys

Make it make sense

Stop being misogynistic hateful "I'm not like other girls"ass bitches

Because I bet a lot of you say that you're for feminism and that you're against bigotry and backward mindsets but then you jump on here and act like the people you hate same shit different font essentially.

And shockingly I have yet to see you guys hyper criticize the guys for being with their friend groups it's because they're not always posting each other? Is it because you don't care? Because surprisingly the band members are not friendless losers who only have each other! If Victoria only had guy friends you guys would criticize her for that and we already see the way you guys act with her being around her girl friends

You guys can criticize behavior but the second you bring misogyny and bigotry into the critique your words are no longer a valid critique

It is very clear that a lot of you guys are not girls girls because a girl's girl would never use the disgusting rancid misogyny slut shaming and hateful narratives that I have seen here from anons you can critique behavior but don't you dare bring hateful narratives and misogyny into the critique cuz then it has no basis other than to bring other women down

And I think that's what pisses me off the most at least anti-feminists have the balls to say that they're anti-feminists they're up front about it you bitches are wolves in sheep's clothing I might be wrong but anti-feminists who are clear that they are anti-feminists they are wolves you see them coming you know what they are they say what they are they don't try to hide behind a cloak of wool

Y'all act like you're feminists and want to make the world a better place but it's very clear that is a bunch of bullshit

God forbid Victoria is confident in herself God forbid she post whatever the fuck she wants to post on her social media

But yeah the misogyny / misogynoir that I've seen in this fandom both on here and on Twitter is disgusting and upsetting especially as a woman of color and I'm really getting tired of it sorry for the rant

Let’s be clear that the admin of this blog doesn’t think Vic is a terrible person and whatnot.

I’m sorry you’re getting tired of this, anon. Your rant is allowed.

[keep-ler]

What I hope RU Next can achieve is a somewhat healthier attitude towards girls and women in survival shows. Idk but watching GP999, QD2, BP and now QD Puzzle really puts into perspective how both producers and fans are so quick to demonize every girl who breathes in the wrong direction while only bringing up the positives when it comes to guys.

Part of why boys planet was so fun to me personally was that you really got to see everyone becoming friends. Yes there was evil editing, but even then fans had way more sympathy for the guys who got edited poorly, when earlier they took what mnet had to say about the girls at face value. Everyone talks about the friendships in boys planet, but friendships in girls planet and queendom got mostly ignored in favor of fanwars even when the trainees themselves talked about how close they had gotten. “Attitude” seems to only be a huge problem when it comes to girls. Like remember the Woonggi/Phanbin banter? Obviously that was super light hearted and fun, but can you imagine the reaction if two girls said stuff like that? They would’ve been called rude, bullies, probably would never have their debut supported. Why do we only judge girls so harshly?

Since the girls on RU Next are, from my understanding, all hybe trainees, it’s in hybe’s best interests to not create a bad image for any of their potential future idols. That’s why I have some faith that the editing, and by extension the fans, will be kinder to these girls. I have my problems with the show (a 12 yr old seriously??) but in regards to how girls on survival shows are viewed, maybe things can improve. If this show sets a precedent, we could hope to see less pitting women against each other in kpop. Hopefully this will not just be a hybe privilege, but can extend to how survival shows are handled in general.

In conclusion, give me more friendships! I know that some of these girls will grow close, so let’s stop pretending they all secretly hate each other. Again, both the producers and fans have a responsibility to not put down other women just to lift up the girls they like.

[thedeathlysallows]

memento mori

Warnings: Sexism (I guess this counts? Felix has shitty thoughts and opinions), dub con, choking, murder, language, oral sex (female receiving), please remember and keep in mind that this is a dark fic. This chapter did go through a rewrite (or several) and one of the teasers I posted didn’t make the final cut. I’m sorry about that.

Ch.7: Mars

           Demetri saunters up to me with a wicked grin plastered on his face, perfectly white teeth on full display. “I heard through the grape vine that your little darling has been cast out from The Society.”

           My mood sours in an instant. “What?”

           “She’s been stripped of rank and power according to this letter that arrived while you were in Canada.” He produces a thick manilla envelope from his jacket. “Aro says it’s standard protocol. A similar letter has been sent to various other powerful, important beings.”

           I take the envelope before he can say more, ripping into it until my fingers come into contact with smooth paper. It’s handwritten. Signed by each member of the Camarilla, The Society’s governing body. I read it through once, twice, a third time. The verbiage is simple and to the point. Roseanna Swan is no longer under the protection of The Society.

           But there’s something else in the letter.

           Something Demetri was leaving out.

           “They’ve filed a complaint against me for compromising her?”

           Demetri nods. “So it seems.”

           I fold the letter and put it in the breast pocket of my suit. “What does Aro have to say?”

           “Clearly he doesn’t take it seriously if he never called you back from your mission with Santiago.” He gives me a sly look. “How is our sweet Swan?”

           “Angry. It makes sense now.”

           When I went to Canada I happened to make a convenient pit stop in Charleston. Finding Roseanna, and by extension The Society, was altogether too simple. After all, I had promised her our game wasn’t over, and I had every intention of making good on that. I still do. On my way back to Volterra I made the exact same pit stop and found my little poison ivy practically steaming from the ears with anger. She was stomping around her apartment, yelling at her neighbors when they told her to cut the noise. It was adorable. I wanted desperately to go to her, but I knew Aro was expecting me back in a timely manner.

           “You’re wanted in the throne room,” Demetri says before I can get too deep into my thoughts.

           I don’t want to face Aro. The idea leaves an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. He’ll see it all. See her. I don’t want him to. Roseanna is mine. Mine to fight with, to argue with, to kill if that’s what I decide I want to do with her. Neither of us are stupid enough to believe there’s love between us, but whatever it is, whatever we have between us, is for us and us alone. Aro has no business in it, but I have no options. I have to go when called upon.

           Fleetingly, I wonder about Roseanna and her sudden freedom. What is she doing with it? Does she blame me for it? No, there’s not even a question about that. Of course she blames me. The better question is: how is she planning to kill me? I know her just as well as I know myself, and if someone took everything from me they wouldn’t make it to the next sunrise. Is she already on her way to Italy?

           I glance at Demetri out of the corner of my eye as we walk to the throne room. “Can you sense her now?”

           “Yes.”

           “Where is she?”

           He pauses. “Her tenor is… still faint. Perhaps because I only ever met her as an Agent and not as Roseanna, the human girl-”

           “Woman,” I interrupt him. “There’s nothing girlish about her.”

           “Certainly, my apologies. I never met the woman, only the Agent. I’ve been trying to keep an eye on her, but the flavor of her isn’t as strong as it should be.”

           “But you have a general idea?”

           “Yes. She’s in London.”

           London. My body floods with excitement. “She’ll be here soon.”

           Demetri tilts his head to the side. “You seem certain she’s coming for you.”

           “Of course she is. She knows we’re destined to destroy each other. It’s thrilling, don’t you think?” I know he agrees with me. His own toy is locked away in their shared room. I’m not certain why he keeps her so closely guarded. It’s not as if he couldn’t track her if she ran.

           “I think she’ll make a lovely snack for you and you’ll lose interest just like always.”

           I shake my head. “This time is different.”

           Demetri stops outside the throne room and takes a long look at me. “Let’s hope so.”

           He flings the heavy wooden doors open and we step inside, shocked to see Aro is the only one of the kings present. He doesn’t often make decisions or pass judgement without his brothers as witnesses at the very least. It sets me on edge.

           “Ah, Felix!” Aro walks up to me and takes my hand before a sound can even escape me, eyes growing distant and unfocused. “I see the mission went well.”

           “Yes, sir.”

           Aro hums noncommittally. We both know he isn’t the least bit interested in Canada and whatever did or didn’t take place there. It’s a strange sensation, feeling Aro flip through my memories as a human would flip through a magazine. I’ve never been able to grow accustomed to it. The invasive, almost predatory feeling is unnerving on a good day and horrifying on a bad day.

           “Well, it certainly seems you’ve been busy, Felix,” Aro says as he releases my hand. “It’s a wonder The Society didn’t come for you themselves given what a… remarkable… relationship it seems you have with their best and brightest.”

           “She isn’t theirs anymore.”

           “No. She isn’t, is she?” Aro strolls back to his throne, taking a seat and sighing heavily. “So we must ask ourselves: what will become of her now? She knows too much. She’s seen too much. It seems curiosity is unable to kill a Swan.”

           Dread washes over me. Roseanna will never consent to becoming one of us, but I know without a doubt that Aro will not allow her to live out her days peacefully as a human. No matter how I beg or plead.

           Aro continues, “I’ve made many concessions for Carlisle over the years, but where do I stop? Where do I draw the line? I saved his sister, taking her in as my own, teaching her to control her gift. I allow Edward to come and go as he pleases in order to see his own sister. Even now… I’ve let them do with Bella as they so desired until my hand was forced. But this? I must do what needs to be done to protect our kind.”

           I step forward. “Master, please, Roseanna is only after me. She cares about nothing but revenge. Once she has it she’ll be a threat to no one.”

           “Will she ever be satisfied? She can’t kill you, not as a human.”

           Images of Roseanna, old and fragile fill my mind. I know without a doubt that: “She’ll never stop trying.”

           “So you play cat and mouse until she dies?”

           I nod. “With your approval.”

           Aro’s eyes bore into mine as he says, “Even poison ivy will wither with time, Felix.”

           “Of course.”

           He narrows his eyes before nodding as if satisfied with something. “Go. I’m postponing your missions for a week in order to satisfy The Society’s ridiculous complaint. Enjoy your time off.”

           I bow from the waist before exiting the throne room, Demetri just behind me. “Where is she now?”

           Demetri tilts his head to the side. “Just over Bern, Switzerland.”

           “Tell me when she lands.”

           He says nothing, simply nods before slipping away to do whatever it is Demetri does when he has time off. Probably Kit. If she even lets him touch her this week. Usually when Edward and his family pop up she shuts down for at least a month afterwards, only speaking to Anne. There are times when I envy their relationship. Demetri is the closest thing I have to a true friend, but even then I know it’s because of forced proximity. If life had dealt us a different hand who knows if we would even speak to one another.

           Loneliness isn’t my favorite thing to think about, but I find myself pondering over the feeling more and more with Roseanna’s absence. She lit something inside me that I thought had been dead for years, and now it can’t be put out by anything but her. If I were a better man I would feel pity for the poor little thing, attracting the attention of a monster like me, but then I recall the heady scent of the blood rushing through her veins and the guilt passes in a violent wave, replaced with lust.

           I want her.

           No.

           I need her.

           I need her to want me, fear me, love me, hate me. I need her to be as obsessed with me as I am with her.

           That’s why I blame her for my blind rage when Demetri tells me later in the evening that she’s here in Volterra, but doesn’t seem to be looking for me. She’s at a nightclub, completely shit faced. And all I can do is watch as she grinds against some blond fucker who looks a little too much like Jasper Whitlock.

           They’ve been talking off and on for hours now. She even made a joke about following an ex-lover here to kill him. He wasn’t even phased. He laughed like she told the funniest joke. Drunk bastard.

           “The kid’s just lost her job,” Kit warns me in a voice that says not to start anything in front of the humans. “Leave her be.”

           “She lost her job, not her purpose.”

           “And what would her purpose be?”

           I turn to her, squaring my shoulders to stand at my full height. Her nostrils flare briefly as she moves closer to Demetri. “Me. I am her purpose. I am her God.”

           Kit snorts. “Men and your fucking god complexes. I’m leaving.”

           “I’ll follow soon,” Demetri tells her. His eyes follow her figure until she’s out of the club and I can tell from the look in his eye he’s keeping tabs on her location in the back of his mind.

           “Just go,” I tell him as I lean back against the bar. “On the one hand, you’re much more in line with the executioner lifestyle when you and Kit are fighting. On the other hand, I want to take care of this myself.”

           “What will you do?”

           “Nothing too risky.”

           Demetri smirks. “Don’t break your new toy before you’re finished playing with it.”

           I feign shock and innocence. “I would never!”

           “Of course not. See you in the morning.”

           I tilt my glass of scotch toward him in a sort of goodbye before turning my full attention back to Roseanna. I’d been keeping an eye on the two of them throughout my conversation with Demetri, trying to reign in the monster lurking under my skin, begging to be released. She’s just so… pretty. I can’t blame the sad fuck for wanting her or dancing with her, but I can’t have her thinking there are no consequences in our little game. He’ll have to die and she’ll have to know it’s all her fault.

           I watch as he bends down to whisper in her ear. “Do you want to get out of here?”

           Roseanna blushes a bright pink, looking up at him and batting her lashes. She nods shyly. A small smile plays at her lips and I can’t tell whether it’s real or an act. The Roseanna I know would never be so coy. My poison ivy wouldn’t act like some simpering, airheaded bimbo.

           There’s a tap on my shoulder drawing me out of my thoughts and I turn to see a woman around the same age as Roseanna with dark brown hair. She smiles at me with too white teeth. “Whatcha drinking? I’ll buy the next round.”

           Her hand finds its way to my bicep and I push it away, careful not to snap her wrist. “No, you won’t.”

           I turn my attention back to Roseanna and the girl by my side follows my gaze.

“Oh, I get it now. You and your girl over there are in a fight, right? I can help you make her jealous.” Her hand travels down to my thigh as she speaks and I turn to her, my hand wrapping around her slim neck.

“I was nice earlier, but if you keep pushing your luck I’m afraid you’ll find it’s run out. Go back to your friends and leave me alone.”

When I release her she sputters in disbelief, calling me every name she can think of. I simply tune her out and turn back to Roseanna’s spot on the dance floor only to find her gone.

“Fuck!” I slam my drink on the bar top and throw down some cash before running out of the club.

I can smell Roseanna in the air, the scent of her blood and arousal leading me to a hotel that- ironically- isn’t far from the castle. No one stops me when I walk inside. No one asks any questions. Those who live here know better, and those who visit either learn quickly or suffer for their idiocy.

I find her on the top floor in one of the nicer suites. Before I even open the door I hear a soft, feminine moan and my vision turns red. I push the door open, the locks giving easily beneath my strength. In a movement too fast for humans to detect I rip him away from my poison ivy and snap his neck. His body drops to the bed, limp and lifeless.

Roseanna’s mouth falls open and she scrambles off the bed, grabbing a knife from her bag. It’s nothing even close to the weapon she once wielded but I imagine The Society took all of their things back like some jilted ex in a bad breakup.

"What will you do, darling?" I stalk towards her. One step, two steps, three, four, until her back is pressed against the wall of the hotel room. "You've lost everything that made you interesting. Now you're nothing but a bug to be crushed under the sole of my boot."

Roseanna tilts her chin up in defiance but I can feel her body trembling against mine. I can smell her fear. It drips off her, blurring my senses until all that's left is the thirst inside me. I'm free to sample the goods this time, as they say, and with how fast her heart is beating I'm growing more and more tempted.

"Isn't this what you wanted?" I twist a thick strand of her soft hair around my hand and tug until she cries out in pain. Tears well in her eyes, but she doesn't cry. Not yet.

"Didn't you want to find me? To kill me? That's what you told him," I jerk my chin over to her bed where whatever-his-name-was lays lifeless. "Here I am, darling."

She still doesn't speak. She knows she's weaker now and needs to be smarter. Unfortunately, she seems to have forgotten that she's mine and I would hunt her down to the farthest corner of the world before she even had a chance to start looking for me.

With my free hand I grasp her throat and slide her up the wall so we're face to face. She's still blinking back tears, but one manages to roll down her cheek. I lap it up with my tongue, savoring the salty tang of the tear and the sweat on her skin. Roseanna whimpers, thighs clenching together like I won't notice. I do notice. I notice everything about this little human. To the point I would destroy everything to keep her. Whether she wants to be kept or not.

Roseanna kicks out at me pathetically, wailing out in pure rage when she can’t make contact. The knife clatters to the floor as she claws at my hands in a sad attempt to get them away from her neck.

“Poor little poison ivy. You’ve lost your bite, haven’t you?” I nip at her earlobe, enjoying the shiver that rockets through her body.

“Fuck you,” she says through gritted teeth.

“Well,” I muse outloud, looking back at the dead human, “if only one of us getting his dick wet tonight, you should be glad it’s me, darling.”

I let go of her throat and she drops to the floor, gasping for breath.

“On the bed,” I tell her.”

She glares daggers at me. “Make me.”

I heave a dramatic sigh and grab a fistful of her hair, tossing her on the bed with ease. Roseanna’s eyes widen when she lands beside her former dance partner and she recoils in disgust. I kick his body away and pull her back towards the edge of the bed by her ankle. Her tight red dress rides up to expose the lace panties she was wearing.

“I prefer silk for you, darling.” I shed my heavy coat and start working on the buttons of my shirt. She watches carefully and I can see the internal fight she’s having.

Roseanna finally looks up at me. “You think I give a fuck what you prefer?”

“Not right now maybe. But I promise you after tonight you’ll be in silk the next time I see you.”

“You’re a bast-” She cuts herself off when I let my shirt drift to the floor, my torso exposed to the cool air of the room.

“What was that?” I smirk down at her.

“I hate you.” There’s a tinge of fear in her scent now, but it’s still overshadowed by her arousal. I’m practically choking on the smell of her. It fills all my senses.

I pop open the button of my pants, dragging them down my thighs before discarding them on the floor and doing the same with my boxers. Roseanna, despite an initial sound of protest, follows my movements closely. Her breath comes in shallow pants and her eyes are blown wide with lust when she takes in the sight of me naked.

“I hate you,” she repeats, but there’s less conviction in her words this time.

“Strip,” I tell her. She doesn’t move. “Either you do it or I will. You’ll be naked for me one way or another.”

This seems to shock her into action. Roseanna shimmies out of her dress and panties, wrapping an arm around her chest to hide her breasts and crossing her legs to hide her cunt. I easily move her arm and part her legs and she whimpers beneath me. Her heart is pounding so loudly it’s all I can hear.

“You’ve been a very bad girl tonight. I keep telling you I don’t like when other men touch what’s mine, and now you’re little friend had to pay for your bad decisions.” I grip her jaw and turn her head, forcing her to look over at the body on the ground. “And now here you are. Dripping wet for the man who murdered him.”

“I’m not-”

“Don’t even think of lying about how turned on you are. I can smell it. You reek of it. And you know something?”

She shakes her head.

“It’s almost as good as the smell of your blood.” I press my lips to hers, meeting nothing but resistance at first. Then, slowly, she gives in. Her body relaxes and she melts into me. “Tell me how much you hate me, darling.”

Roseanna moans and stretches out beneath me, tangling her fingers in my hair as I kiss down her body, my tongue exploring each dip and curve until I come to the apex of her thighs. She lets out a shaky breath.

“Fuck… God, I hate you…” She yanks on my hair when I lap at her folds with my tongue.

“What do you hate? Tell me.”

“I hate…” Roseanna sighs softly and spreads her legs wider for me, grinding against my face. “I hate your stupid face.”

I can’t help the laugh that escapes me. “You seem partial to my face at the moment.”

“Shut the fuck-” she cries out in pleasure when my tongue delves inside her, biting on her lower lip. I pull back only to slip two fingers inside her and move my mouth to her clit. “Felix!”

“Come on my face, darling.” I follow the movements of her body, bringing her to her high before pulling back so I can watch her face as she falls apart. Her head is thrown back, eyes shut while her body relaxes. She looks so beautiful.

“I can feel you staring, ya know.” Roseanna opens her eyes and sits up.

“Mmm.” I study her closely, committing the sight of her like this to memory.

She tilts her head to the side, a look of frustration on her face. “I’d be lying if I said this changes anything. You still fucked me over.”

“I don’t expect this to change anything. It just adds another level of excitement, don’t you think? What will they do next: fight or fuck?” I gather my clothes and slowly redress, taking my time and flexing when Roseanna examines a muscle extra closely. “If you make this next week fun for me, you can have my cock inside you next time.”

She flushes a deep red and glares at me. “Get out of my room. And fix my door!”

[zukkacore]

This is gonna start off as kinda goofy silly but bear with me but the thing abt Togami and Mukuro is that in my mind the way the friend groups split up during the lost two nondespair years is that Junko can basically get along w/ anyone bc that’s her secret sauce so while she makes it her business to drift in an out of any social circle in my heart I do think her home base is converging with the other gay bitches whose personality is generally having disdain for the other gay bitches and setting themselves apart because of it i.e. Celeste and Togami. They are the fag, the goth girl, and the Cookie Monster pj girl walking the mile in PE.

Naturally Mukuro tags along passively and quietly w Junko where ever she goes & Togami is happy to ignore her at first and generally dismiss her as Junko’s weird sullen sister. & yes canonically Mukuro’s alienation from her classmates is part of why she feels driven to sink the cost and stay loyal to her sister despite her trepidation toward The Plan, but also like.

In the funnier version of events in my head I do think Togami and Mukuro could form a silent tenuous allyship because they’re literally just always around each other, in a way of being extremely tight lipped and privately grateful there’s at least one person here not trying to impose on my business or try to get me to be vulnerable. This guy gets the vision. Best friend I ever had.

The thing is that they’re a neat dichotomy because her trauma tanked her self esteem and view of her own personhood and his gave him a god complex and she and Junko struggled w poverty in their childhood while he is a billionaire heir and hence you would think they would not work as friends but once we and they realize that’s an awful nice dichotomy you got there, its like. It would be a shame if something were to lie outside of it.

And the thing that lies outside of it is that they were the weaker dog (“make two dogs fight, punish the weaker dog”) & have tried desperately to do something to overcome that. He sort of did, or at least he thinks he overcome being the weaker dog bc he “won” meanwhile whatever Mukuro has not stopped seeing herself as the weaker dog, no matter what she did to escape or distinguish herself didn’t matter in the end bc she’s still following orders. The thing abt them is that what lies outside the dichotomy is that they’re sunkest in the sunk cost fallacy. I invested the most, I endured the most, and it cost me the most and therefore I am special. He can’t opt out of this system of being pit against other dogs & she can’t turn against her sister bc he could be the top inheritor in a system of exploitation or be the person being exploited and she is about to aid in the end of the world or be ended along with everyone else. Which side do you want to be on? Theres a banquet and anyone who is not at the table in on the menu. Idk I just relate to that Goya painting of Saturn devouring his children for some reason.

There is something oddly sweet abt DR:S in which she in disguise badgers him into throwing a party at his private beach inviting all their classmates. & when he tries to back out of it in his typical way (fine you can throw a party but I would never go because I have better things to do obviously bc I’m just sooo busy and important) she insists he has to be there too. She’d never be so vocal and bold but in her attempt to perform Junko who is vocal and bold and unabashed abt what she wants she is forced to reveal now what SHE wants. He caves so easily, too. It’s technically not canon but it’s so revealing. What if we were all just friends hanging out on a beach. No fame no obligations no end of the world. This is the life I long for.

[mesillusionssousecstasy]

THE IDOL 1x03: Review

For me the best thing from this episode was the new (or unreleased) song from the Weeknd: “Take Me Back”. The lyrics are so powerful and so truthful to this episode. At least, Abel is good at something. So please, stick to the music and stop acting (even if it was a little be better this time because you were mostly wearing sunglasses). Did you notice that so far he doesn’t appear in the short behind the episode. 

Also, again, some shots were amazing, especially the one from the pool. 

I will not comment on the “sex scenes”, because honestly I couldn’t care less, and someone told me they are just not realistic at all (position, fonctionnement, ...). I will not look at the fitting rooms the same way. 

The hairbrush during Jocelyn and Chloé’s scene should have told us a clue about the revelation we’ve got at the end of the episode. But I don’t understand Chloé’s role in all of this. 

Honestly congratulations to Lily-Rose for playing in front someone so bad (as Abel). There is nothing left in his eyes and his glance have really something bovine in them. Il n’y a plus rien dans ses yeux. And his face is all bloated.

Even Tedros’ name is stupid. 

So, we just learned that Jocelyn’s label wants her to be portrayed as a “bad girl”, it’s not her wishes. Like they did to Britney Spears? 

Honestly, the cover album with cum on her face as a success? 

As all the cocaïne in LA will have inside it Fentanyl? 

Jocelyn smoking to mirror a French girl? 

Tedros’ family gives me more and more Manson’s cult vibes (who killed Sharon Tate). From the club to the house. 

Can someone explain to me who are Head (the guy with the tattoo) and Ramsey (The new girl with black hair)? It’s like they appear out of thin air. 

Finally, the girl from Vanity Fair is not present. 

But Nikki is replacing step by step Jocelyn by Dyanne. The music industry will keep chugging along with or without you and that they don’t care about your individual Voice or Vision as an artist what matters most at the end of the day is how they can turn a profit and it doesn’t matter who they use to do that.

At least in Euphoria, the make up was amazing. 

Every intervention of Leia is kind of dumb. 

The conversation between Izaak (which’s still gay) and Jocelyn raises the question of whether or not embracing pain can lead life changing art that is truly impactful? I must agree with it, because it’s bring something so powerful after it, that’s completely addictive. 

We just learned that Jocelyn is on her third album only and her last hit was “Daybreak” on her second album.

The diner scene was truly amazing! But question: who cooked? Knowing that Andrés, the chef has been fired. haha.  At least, this time Tedros was asking the good questions. He is a fucking good narcissistic parasite. He becomes in control of almost every aspect of Jocelyn’s life. 

Whether it’s the music industry or Tedros’ manipulation, it’s so so fucked up to use Jocelyn like this, knowing the state of her mind. 

Her team’s concern is hypocritical. They couldn’t save or help her from her mother, so how could they save her from the grip of Tedros. 

Finally, the real villain is the music industry that preys on those seeking fame and fortune, and they’ll pit women against each other in the process as long as you play by their rules you will get the career you want but it comes at the cost of your own voice as an artist, this further the undeniable parallels between Tedros’ cult and the music industry, both groups are attempting to exploit and profit off of the artist through any means necessary however they have vastly different approaches to doing so but what are these differences. Well the music industry and record label Executives believe that proven data tired clichés and previous methods of success can be repackaged and resold to the masses. They think the general public will listen to or watch anything that is put in front of them because of this they’re more likely to keep all the pieces that work and swap out old artists for new ones that are willing to do their bidding ultimately it is about business over the individual person. As on the other hand, Tedros represents the complete opposite. He encourages being as unique and individualistic as possible because your personal experiences shape your art in a distinct way. Tedros believes in taking risks rather than calculated bets he goes so far as to encourage Jocelyn to lean into publish the leaked intimate photo being used for her own personal gain rather than letting the world paint a picture of who she is without her input it could work or fail but at least she would have tried something new rather than stick with the old such as the music industry typically does although both groups are extremely exploitative and harmful to the artist the series showcases how both sides push Jocelyn into making a difficult decision exploit yourself or be exploited. 

Jocelyn inevitably chooses to exploit herself her pain and her trauma as this will allow her to be the artist she always dreamed of becoming but what is that trauma she has yet to tap into and why hasn’t she done so before you see the reason I found the opening sequence to be ironic and the concern of her team to be hypocritical is because of what we learn about Jocelyn’s mother and their involvement or lack thereof she was physically mentally and emotionally abusive toward Jocelyn and she controlled almost every aspect of her life we get hints of this unprocessed trauma in previous episodes when Jocelyn would spend a significant amount of time in front of a mirror brushing her hair it was with this hairbrush; being the perfect daughter and pop star the physical and emotional scars from that abuse were evident to her team but Tedros points out that no one stepped in to stop what was happening because they were all profiting off of Jocelyn at the time. Tedros sees this as an opening to fully indoctrinate Jocelyn into his cult by convincing her to embrace her pain in order to create music that is authentic and comes from somewhere deep within her earlier in the episode. 

The next day Jocelyn thanks Tedros for taking care of her symbolizing her falling back into the cycle of abuse she was familiar with in the past will result in Justin becoming crazy relatively unstuck 

Overall it was a tough episode to stomach as there were many uncomfortable and provocative questions being raised about Jocelyn’s experience in the industry to me it’s clear that the series is highlighting the similarities amongst the music industry, Tedros’ cult and Jocelyn’s family as they all claim to be looking out for her best interests but that they all are only comfortable with her exploitation as long as they profit from it or have something to gain even Leia who is positioned as someone seemingly innocent and genuinely worried about Jocelyn’s well-being is only okay with exploitation if she is under her management team’s guidance we have to remember that while she’s Jocelyn’s best friend she is also her employee whose livelihood is dependent on Jocelyn’s success as a pop idol.

Honestly, I don’t think that the show is glamorizing these difficult topics just for the sake of being shocking it is trying to make a point about how Fame and the spotlight dehumanized the person behind the music and ultimately turns them into a profit generating machine that commodify is their own trauma.

Dream is never easy and oftentimes it is filled with wolves in sheep’s clothing. 

[tea-with-evan-and-me]

Some people underestimate what it means for someone to have been through almost a decade of abuse. It's not like when an abusive relationship ends that the person will all of a sudden just go back to normal and not be disturbed in anyway, even many years and decades later. I think we could see that Evan's relationships have been anything but normal since Emma. I'm not trying to put blame on Evan and i'm not saying that I know Haley personally to tell what she is really like in a relationship. But it's a fact that if we look at his and Haleys separate dating histories, based on how long each of their relationships lasted and also generally looking at the drama level, that Haley does look like the more regulated person between them. Again (because I feel like I have to underline it) i'm not saying that to put Evan down! I'm just sad because I got such good vibes from Haley. And now I just got a feeling in the pit of my stomach that the next woman he chooses will be more like.... you know. That is why i sincerely hope he goes to therapy.

no one is underestimating the emotional trauma of living through an abusive relationship for 7 years. i am sure there have been some studies done by someone that speaks to DV victims repeatedly choosing partners that in some way perpetrate abuse or mistreatment against them. i think it's fair to say evan's low self-esteem and self-image issues have lead him to accept treatment that he shouldn't have, and that he also stayed very long with a woman who was documented to be awful and physically abusive. now add into that they were both dealing with addiction issues and you probably have a 7 year blur of traumatic and chaotic suffering. no, no intelligent person would be so unreasonable as to surmise that it did not have a lasting affect on evan and that he will likely spend a very long time unraveling that.

however, evan has had two relationships since emma that we know about: a 6 month stint with halsey and 2 years with frances. i don't even think of halsey/evan as significant because it was so short, but when it comes to fran/evan, we know next to nothing about their relationship. we can only speculate. all of the negatives we have are based upon frances' very unlikable internet persona. we do not know what their dynamic was actually like.

also, we do not know the nature of evan/haley's relationship. i don't think it's reasonable to jump to catastrophic conclusions when we literally have diddly squat to go off of besides them dating, and now deuxmoi, who knows nothing, saying they ''cooled off'' due to evan traveling/working. they could still be dating, they could have stopped seeing each other - we don't know. so we certainly don't know the reason why they would end their romance or if it was on good terms. haley is also 8 years younger than evan and has prior relationships the public knows nothing about. so it's not really fair to speak to what she has or has not experienced and how it could impact her relationship to evan. i think she seems like a very emotionally in-tune and sweet girl, but she is also younger and could be idealistic and never dealt with someone with a history similar to evan's... or, she could be someone who has put in the emotional work on herself and would be able to understand and walk through any issues that would arise, because she understands how an abused person can miscalculate things because they are traumatized. who knows.

and i totally get you're not trying to put evan down. i didn't think that was your intention! i just think we have to get out of our own heads sometimes when we are on the outside looking in at someone elses' life. evan and haley could live happily ever after, or they could fizzle out and the next woman evan dates be another problem. or she could be someone even more wonderful that everyone adores. only time will tell.

[kinetic-elaboration]

May 14: The Expanse 1x10 (!!!)

I didn’t stop watching The Expanse because of anything to do with The Expanse, more because of the struggling to be a human thing. But here I am, back, finishing off S1.

First of all, this show needs a previously on. Even when I was watching one episode a week pretty consistently, I still felt like I needed a neat little summary going in. Take a couple weeks off and I’ve given up on anything other than Cool Vibes and Look, Action!!

I do still really like Eros station and just the set design in general. The bit in the arcade-space reminded me of the fsociety headquarters in Mr. Robot, possibly because I found my old notes on it recently and I kind of want to rewatch it, I think. But I also loved the whole ‘coins falling on a dead body after a death-match’ shot—very metal. I thought the episode did a good job of having finale-worthy character moments, like Holden choosing not to save Kenzo (do I entirely remember who Kenzo is? No. I mean I remember who he is but not when he was last seen. But that’s okay because I get, like, the meta of what they’re trying to do, I read the moment in its context, sort of like knowing what part of speech a word in a foreign language is, but not what it means). Or Naomi and the little girl—portentous.

I sort of wanted there to be more explanation, both since this was the season finale and because I thought the end of the last episode set up a possible Exposition-Heavy next installment, but it did lean heavier on the action sequences/movement-based plot and less on actually giving context to anything or providing answers. So I have mixed feelings about that. Like I do think tantalizing clues, like whatever they were doing with Julie’s body, or whatever the blue human shape attacking Kenzo was at the end, are appropriate for a finale ep, but I needed some MORE. Is Julie still ‘alive’ somehow? Is the blue light indicative of this substance being more than just a weapon? That’s what I’d like, honestly. The explanation Holden and Miller outline in this episode—it’s just a really big, really bad weapon, and Bad Guys are using Eros as a testing ground for it, hoping to pit all three major players against each other over their suspicions of it—is certainly, like, a plot. A plot I’ve heard before. But understandable, digestible, solid. Classic, one might say.

But what if… something else. What if it’s not just a weapon? What if its ability to brutally kill is just the first thing it does? What if it can also reform or reconstitute? What if it’s absorbing rather than killing? What if the resultant bodies have some sort of unique use or value? That would certainly take the show’s themes of The Machine literally chewing up and spitting out the bodies of the underclass for the benefit of the upper class to a new level. I thought there were some indications of this—not this specifically but an unknown additional level—in the finale. Whatever they were doing with Julie’s body, and the line about saving us all. That Holden and Miller’s explanation, despite its plausibility, is left hanging as not quite complete or not quite accounting for all the facts. The human figure in the blue light at the end. That we have so little exposition and so much of an air of mystery around the whole episode, as if we’d really learned almost nothing here, despite all the action.

I’m not saying I’m necessarily getting my hopes up for any of this because it’s so purely speculative and I could easily see the show moving off in some totally different direction.

A few other random thoughts: the Julie-hallucination turning into Amos made me legitimately laugh. Like this episode is not funny and the show is pretty overall serious but I laughed for real. The funniest character for it to actually be. Also, love guard dog Amos making a return. I think Holden and Naomi are bros. Alex has grown on me a lot. I like when he takes out the country twang voice. Usually the Roci looks like a bullet but today it sort of looked like some kind of bug, while it was still attached to the dock.

[whosjunglejim4322]

Warnings: SMUT, insecurities but mark just needs a lil reassurance abt how good he makes you feel, finger fucking/sucking, he cums in his pants, fluff bc yall r in love love <3

Mark knows he's being irrational about this whole ordeal. One conversation shouldn't be getting under his skin like it is, but this one thing seems to be knocking at the forefront of his brain, throwing him out of focus as of late.

So what, you masturbate. It's normal, he's not there all the time, of course you do. He does too, but he also becomes outrageously horny everytime he so much as thinks about your skin or the way you kiss him. And it's safe to say he thinks about you alot. Alot alot.

"It's different, though? I'm a guy, we jerk off an outrageous amount," he argues, furrowing his eyebrows as you stare up at his pacing form from the bed, grinning. He's cute when he's flustered.

"And girls just...aren't supposed to get horny without the help of a guy?" You inquire.

He stops pacing at this, slumping his shoulders. "that's not what I mean, I just-" he sighs, plopping himself next to you on the edge of the bed. He chews on the inside of his lip for a moment before shaking his head.

"Nevermind, I'm just tired." He runs his fingers through his disheveled hair, looking at you apologetically with his big doe eyes.

You're still amused, giggling as you reach over to cup his rosy hued cheeks, pulling him to your mouth for a kiss.

"A little toy could never replace you, my love."

You'd reassured him that night by wrapping your lips around his dick, and he was too lost in the belly aching anticipation and bliss of it all, to really pay attention to what it was you'd just said.

A little toy.

He hasn't stopped thinking about it. It's both slightly irritating, while also being the new source of his sexual frustration when he's supposed to be practicing. He thinks it may be more irritating than the ladder though, because as much as he hates to admit it, he is a jealous creature. 

It's silly, childish and he knows it. Maybe that's why he's so unsettled by this, because he knows that you love him. He knows you like his dick, from what you've expressed. But, maybe he's doing something wrong?

Maybe you just don't want to to wound his ego, and instead act like his dick is enough to satisfy you. Of course, he knows some sensations are better than others, but how often do you need to touch yourself? Does he not please you enough in the moments you two are together?

These questions still nag him when he walks into your apartment at around 7:35 pm, causing worry to crease between his brows.

You, of course, pick up on this when you round the corner from your bedroom to see him making his way towards you, lost in thought. Your arms snake around his middle and your lips place a kiss to his jaw. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

"What's got you all mopey?" You ask, searching for any signs of pain or discomfort in his eyes, only to be stumped by his undreadable expression. Maybe he's just had a long day?

He hums, broken from his self depricating reverie, evidently not realizing he's wearing his emotions so blatantly.

"Nothin' just tired, wanted to come home." He buries his face in the crook of your shoulder once you've pulled him into your room, his breath warm against your neck.

You must've just taken a shower, skin the scent of his favorite soap that always has him sniffing you randomly throughout the day. He squeezes you tighter.

You kiss the side of his head, reluctantly pulling yourself away only to grab his hands and move to the bed, not believing that there's nothing more than just fatigue that's got his usual goofy smile hidden behind such a frustrated countenance.

You crawl onto his lap once his back is against the headboard, his hands slipping underneath your shirt to rub your back, a habit when he's nervous. He knows what's coming, already avoiding your eyes.

"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong, Mark Lee? No excuses, this time." You mean business, but your voice is still as soft and comforting as ever. He can't resist looking up at you once you stroke his cheek with your thumb, featherlight.

With a drawn out breath, he reluctantly responds, knowing it'll only eat at him further if he doesn't.

"It's just....I feel like maybe I don't do enough for you...sexually? Like, I know everyone masturbates and It's totally fine you use a toy and stuff, I just feel like...like maybe It's better than...than what I can do? I know I'm not the most experienced but-"

He's stuttering, ears tomato red at the tips and he's a bit perplexed to see such a jubilant smile spreading across your face as he rubs the back of his neck, embarassed beyond belief.

"Mark..." you cup his soft, blazing cheeks in your palms, forcing him to meet your gaze as squeamish as he's suddenly become. "you're that upset over something like this?"

You don't sound judgemental nor teasing, despite the way you're grinning. But still, he wants to hide his face, wants to bow his head in shame. Suddenly he feels very foolish.

Not being able to stand seeing him so crestfallen, you reassure him, trurthfully. Your heart aches.

"Hey hey, look at me bub," wide doe eyes stare back at you, as you move some of his hair out from in front of his forehead where the strands have fallen. "you are more than enough, so good that when you're away I cant stand it. I have to touch myself, and I'm not just saying that."

His expression has regained some confidence, though you're not done yet. You've got this determination swirling in the pit of your belly, thrumming through your veins. You want him to know how truly incredible he really is, how good he really makes you feel.

"I think about your hands, your mouth, your dick. And you know what? By the end of it I'm not even satisfied, because that little toy isn't you. Do you understand? Hmm? Or do I have to show you?"

Suddenly his heartbeat is loud in his ears, adams apple bobbing as he swallows. He's hardened underneath you and you known that you've got him.

"I-I understand, now. But you could still show me, you know. If you want." His voice is a little unsteady but the corners of his soft, pink mouth twitch at the corners with an echo of a smile.

It's too much, Mark Lee absolutely will be the death of you. And so you kiss him, in a way that has his toes curling and his arms wrapping around your middle like a boa, refusing to let go.

Your fingers are tiwsted in his hair as you suck on his plush bottom lip, a gasp leaving his throat when your teeth nibble the sensitive skin. He can feel your hardened nipples through your sweater, pressing against his chest.

Your knees have tightened around the small of his waist as well, crotch rubbing against the strained bulge in his basketball shorts. You whine into his mouth.

"Mm, you should feel how wet you make me," his hands venture lower at this, until his warm fingertips are pressing into the flesh of your thighs. "go ahead Markie, touch me."

He groans, not being able to hold it back from his chest at the sound of your voice and your generous offer. His fingers, delicate and eager rub your pussy through your lounge shorts, and his jaw slacks a bit at your lack of underwear.

Your tongue slips against his, mouths parted and greedy while he slips his hand into the warmth of your shorts - and practically whines.

He wasn't expecting the abundance of your essence, the utter and complete lack of friction as his digits glide effortlessly through your silken folds. He takes his ring finger and presses the pad of it against your entrance, circling and listening to the lewd, slick sounds.

"Oh fuck," he croons free hand on your lower back and urging you against his touch. "you're s-so wet already, how are you so wet?" He's mystified, and completely fucked.

"I told you." You kiss him again, swallowing his reply and grinding your pussy against his palm. Without warning, he slips a finger in, and then another, falling apart at the way your walls so eagerly welcome them. He trembles.

"Mm, Mark." You're reaching down, underneath his arm and gripping his length, hot in your hand underneath the slinky material of his shorts. He twitches.

Suddenly his fingers are curling inside of you, and he begins to languidly pump them in and out of your sopping heat, on fire from his toes to the top of his head. You have to grip onto his shoulders, momentarily forgetting your previous endeavor of palming his dick.

He doesn't mind, not when you're whining like this, fingers digging into his skin, your body rocking against his while your walls hug and squeeze around his digits.

"Does it feel good?" He asks genuinley, but already knows the answer, too high off of this moment to not want his ego stroked. Your eyebrows are furrowed, lips kiss bitten, skin hot to the touch. You can barely make out an answer, and he swears all the blood in his body rushes straight to his dick.

"S-so good Markie - harder, please." You bury your face in the crook of his shoulder as tour thighs tremble around his narrow hips, lips trembling against his throat. He obliges you happily, anything to have you wilting against him like this. To hear more of the sounds you're making, for him.

Anyone outside the door would know whats going on, with the squelching of your wetness and the vigor in which he's fucking you with his fingers, heel of his palm nudging your clit with each thrust. You already feel that pit of pressure inside your belly expanding, so close to the brink of exploding.

He's fairing the same, if he's honest. You're rubbing up against the painful, throbbing boner in his bottoms, hidden behind only a thin layer of clothing. Your juices have leaked, leaving your own shorts wet at the crotch and the sight is erotic in a way that makes him buck up against you.

His free hand cups your face when he adds a third finger, pulling you from his shoulder to look at your face.

He damn near blows his load right then and there.

You look like you're on the verge of tears, not able to hold yourself up straight. A blush burns his skin, when you lean into his touch, fingers grasping at the front of his white tee.

"M'gonna cum soon Markie."

His heart threatens to explode from his chest when you turn your head and suck his thumb into your warm mouth, closing your eyes and bliss while his fingers pump into you, buried to the third knuckle.

This causes him to thrust into you with a sudden jolt, and the way his fingertips rub against the sweet spot deep inside of you, has the build up of pleasure finally spilling over like a broken dam.

The fingers on either of his hands are soaked now, one with your saliva and the other with your cum. You're gripping onto his wrists, letting him massage the inside of your walls while they contract around him, eyes rolled to the back of your head.

The sight, the feeling, is too much. You're a mess, a beautiful, sopping wet mess and without warning it's like a freight train is hitting him at full force, cock twitching willdy as pure bliss seeps through his pores.

You're still shivering, humping his hand while spurts of cum fill the inside of his shorts, dripping down the crease of his thigh and even soaking through the material a bit. Your eyes are barely able to open, but you will them to when you hear the almost imperceptible groan that strains from his throat when your heartbeat finally stops drumming so loudly in your ears.

Your belly lurches, skin tingly to the touch as he slumps against the headboard, peering up at you with more adoration than you can handle.

"I-I came in my pants." He breathes out, panting heavily alongside you. The thrill that runs down your spine like a tremor at the realization that he's cum, untouched, because of you, is what allows you to have half the mind to pull his fingers from your aching heat - replacing the others in your mouth.

His head lolls to the side, honey eyes trained on you like it’s impossible to look away while you suck your juices from his digits, humming around them. It's like he's staring up at the sun, mesmerized.

And then you're kissing him, and he's sure he's gone to heaven. He tastes you on the tip of your own tongue, and you're so sweet, so tender when you grasp his cheeks.

"I came in my pants too, by the way. Technically." You smile, and he chuckles warmly, giddy. His arms encapsulate you and he nudges the tip of your nose with his own.

The toy can have its fun, he thinks to himself. Because really, truly, nothing - and no one, will ever be as lucky and as enamored as he is with you.

[may-fanfic]

hello, I’m not sure if requests are open, but I was wondering it you could do a Wanda x reader where the reader doesn’t like being yelled at or just hates hearing yelling in general and Wanda is always super gentle and soft with R and one day the team is arguing or being loud or something and R freaks out and Wanda is there to comfort? love your writing :)

Above And Beyond 

summary: after an argument between the Avengers, wanda is there for you when your anxiety gets the best of you 

warnings: anxiety, mentions of triggers and dead loved ones, arguing. 

word count: 1,126

a/n:  soft!wanda is the best wanda! hope you enjoy, anon. 💕

((feel free to send in any request you may have 💕)) 

masterlist 

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the yells in the meeting shook the walls and you tried your best to come up with a way to relax. you understood where everyone was coming from but screaming at each other would never settle anything. "guys." you tried softly but no one even batted an eye towards you as they continued down each other's throats. it made you shake harder with every passing second, you just wanted this to end so you could go back to the safety of your room.

you often hated how fragile you could become, you knew that as an Avenger, you were expected to handle certain things but this was always something you could never overcome. the panic in you seemed to spring out of control when steve slammed his hand against the desk. your shaking became more prominent than ever. you felt so small at that moment, you could feel your heart in your throat as tears clouded your vision.

wanda quickly took notice of your uncomfortable state, a frown tugging at her lips. she wanted to reach out and tell you that everything would be okay, she knew that if she had the chance to get her to focus on you, you'd be able to calm down but before she could even move her seat over to you, you jumped up from your chair and left the room in a hurry.

that was when the team seemed to settle down at the sound of the door slamming shut. wanda quickly followed behind, hot on your trail as she called out your name softly. you and wanda had been friends for the better part of a year, she knew all about your past and your triggers. she was always mindful when it came to you, making sure that she'd never do anything to gain a traumatic response, she never wanted you to feel how you felt right now because of her.

the pure panic in you seemed to come to stop when wanda peeked her head into your room. she had a gentle smile on her lips, inching farther into your room without permission. she knew she was always welcomed in your room so she didn't even bother asking, she was sure that you needed her right now. "it's a lot down there." you spoke softly when wanda came to lay down next to you on your bed. "I know." she hummed, her hand coming up to tuck hair out of your face. her gaze was gentle, the hand coming to caress your cheek softly.

you had still been shaking like a leaf even when wanda tugged you into her. you tried to settle down beside her, resting your head on her chest. you listened to the calming sound of her heart thumping against her as her hands played softly in your hair. "you know what my mom used to do when I got like this?" she asked softly causing you to adjust your head so your chin rested in between her breast. "what?" you croaked out softly as she smiled, her thumb tracing lines into your cheek.

"she'd sing to me." the thought of wanda singing to you made a soft giggle erupt from your throat, she couldn't help as her grin widened."it would always help," she added, thinking back to the fond memories of her mother.

wanda had her mom's gentle spirit, she took after her mom in many ways. she was sure if it wasn't for the woman who raised her, she'd turn into some heartless monster but her mom showed her how to have too much compassion and empathy for other people. she hoped she could be half the woman her mom was. "we..." you paused for a moment shyly, examined the girl's gentle expression before moving back to your position over her chest, the sound of her heart once again your focus.

"We can try that," you added, if you were honest, the thought of Wanda's soft voice singing to you set off a thousand little butterflies in the pit of your stomach and you couldn't be more excited to hear her. 

"Okay, dorogoy," she whispered, she thought back to the soft Russian lullaby her mother would sing to her every night before bed, and despite the number of years that it had been since her mom last sang it, she still knew every word.

you nuzzled into her when she began singing, focusing on her soft raspy voice, her hand stroking your back. as she sang, she thought about the fact that her mother would be proud of her for everything she accomplished so far in her short life. she missed her family more than ever. she hoped they had been somewhere far better than here, they deserved the best.

as she neared the end, her eyes burned with tears but now she could hardly feel any type of shake in your body and it left her feeling at ease. she was glad she could help. "you know..." wanda whispered when she finished. your eyes had been closed and you refused to move from your comfortable position so you hummed back in response. "I'll always be here to protect you." you knew that already but the girl's confirmation still left you feeling warm.

"you don't need to run... whenever something is overwhelming or scary. we'll face it together," she added softly causing you to melt completely. you knew you loved wanda that much had been clear and the longer you thought about it, you knew she loved you too. "you'll never be alone." she hummed out. you moved once again to look up at the woman, noticing the usual soft expression that had been spread out on her face. she only looked at you this way.

wanda was always tough with other people, she couldn't help but have a soft spot in her heart for you. there wasn't anything she wouldn't do to ensure that you were happy. "I got you, always," she uttered with a smile, you stared blankly at her for a moment, she turned confused about the sudden intensity of your stare. she didn't have to wonder for long because in a flash you push yourself up to gently push your lips against hers.

Wanda reacted in an instant, her lips moved in sync with yours. your hands moved to cup the woman's cheeks deepening the kiss desperately.  you could feel every ounce of love and built-up tension melt away into the kiss. you knew now that wanda was everything you needed, she was kind and understanding and you knew that down the line she'd treat you exactly how you needed her to.

as wanda kissed you, you couldn't be more grateful for the team's arguing.

[edie-baby]

to have and to hold | juri vips

summary: Juri Vips was a bastard of a teammate. Mostly just because you were insanely in love with him and his flirtatious ways. Juri senses a change in your behaviour and when things begin going back to normal, Juri just fucks it up again. (Similar premise to the Mr & Mrs imagine with Liam, but different[?])

word count: 2894

warnings: swearing, still. i don't think i should have to put warnings about swearing anymore, it's basically a given.

Working with Juri Vips was a fucking trainwreck. There was no light way to put it, it was messy, it was painful, and yet you could never stop fucking staring at him. Being his teammate in F2 for the past year and a half, the two of you had gotten quite close, to the point where his family invited you on vacation with them when they were going, and you had joined them once, but realised about two hours in, that it was a thinly veiled attempt from literally his entire family to get the two of you together.

And while you were all for it, being forced to spend so much time with Juri, while he was shirtless nonetheless, was a literal dream come true, it was also incredibly painful for you to stop from pouncing on him at any given moment. Because as much as his family thought there was something between you, it was purely Juri’s charisma and character to be almost constantly flirting with you.

You remember the first time the two of you, a few other F2 drivers had come along as well, had gone to the beach and he had seen you bust out the bikini you knew made you look like a hot piece, he hadn’t shut up about it, or you, for weeks afterwards.

“Well look at you, little miss supermodel. I would have thought you’d be walking catwalks with legs like that, not pushing pedals like the rest of us. God, you look like you just stepped out of my dreams and onto this beach. If you keep looking like that, I think I might have a problem to deal with later in the shower.” He had hollered, and many of the guys around you either joined in or had nothing to say but gawk. Juri’s comments had cemented themselves in your brain however, calling back upon them whenever you felt less than top dollar, which you had to admit was becoming more often in recent months.

Juri had noticed your slowly waning confidence, of course he had. His gorgeous view of you in crop tops, little skirts, and tight shorts had turned into oversized shorts, hoodies, and ill-fitting jeans. All of which still made you the most beautiful girl in the world, but there was something missing from your aura, a general happiness that had been lacking since the new season started a few months ago. In the entire time Juri had known you, you were never one to listen to other’s opinions of you, whether they be good or bad, the only people you had ever listened to and taken words to heart from were himself, your parents, and your boyfriend.

Somehow in the span of about three minutes, Juri had tracked the four most likely culprits of your diminished ego. He knew he hadn’t said anything harmful or damaging to you since the season began, as many of your conversations had revolved around racing, other drivers in the paddock, or your family. Your parents, he was confident in, he had met them many times before, and they were always genuinely warm and welcoming, he supposed there might have been another side to them, though he believed he would have picked up on it by now. Which leaves only your boyfriend, whom Juri had zero confidence in.

Tye was nice, almost disgustingly so, but he was also much too proud of being nice for it to be genuine. He would open car doors for you, give you flowers every few months, and once bought you a necklace with a pendant of his name. But you would never forget that he did those things for you, because as soon as you would mention something relatively negative, those few acts of kindness were shoved down your throat.

Juri, of course, was not privy to that information. All he knew was that Tye’s possessive behaviour and complete lack of care for your wishes meant that there was something beneath the surface Juri was sure was the reason for your confidence, or lack thereof.

So when you came into work one day, to continue shooting some videos for the YouTube channel, wearing a gorgeously fitted pair of jeans, and a halter-neck singlet, Juri knew something was afoot. Also notable was your lack of gold necklace and your beaming smile toward the Estonian.

“You gonna keep staring like that, or do you want to take a photo?” You asked, your voice holding the teasing lilt Juri had missed in the past weeks. Without breaking his gaze from your body, Juri reached into the pocket of his shorts, his hand retrieving his phone and taking a photo of you standing there, tight clothes and bright smile in all its glory. He smirked when he saw your barely concealed smile.

“You’re in a much better mood than usual. What happened?” Juri couldn’t help but ask, the drastic shift in your mood was more than intriguing to him. Your smile widened, taking the last few steps toward his position in a chair behind the large conference table.

“I lost 80 kilos last night.” You whispered, leaning in closer to Juri, the glint in your eyes, the proximity and the tone were all so familiar to him that he couldn’t help but meet you halfway, barely three inches between your faces as the words processed in his mind.

Juri glanced down at your body confusedly, trying to figure out where exactly the 80kg had disappeared from. Then, the pieces began clicking into place. The lack of gold necklace, the tighter clothes, the glowing smile, none of which would have been staring Juri in the face if Tye had a say.

“You dumped Tye?” Juri questioned, his eyes lighting up, his raise in volume betraying just how excited he was for you, and himself. You nodded, eyes softening as you watched the pure joy cross Juri’s face. Him being happy was something that always warmed your heart, but Juri being happy about you finally being happy? You were sure your knees were about to buckle.

“I’m glad. I can have you all to myself now.” Juri grumbled, reaching for your hands that were braced against the arms of his chair. With a sharp tug, your balance was offset, and your body was tumbling toward Juri’s. You landed with a giggle in Juri’s lap, his own laughter joining yours and the two of you simply enjoyed each other’s presence after having an intangible wall built between you during your relationship with Tye.

Juri couldn’t hold a taken woman like he loved her, not when that taken woman wasn’t his to hold. And you, how could you revel in the feel of man’s touch that was anyone’s but the man you supposedly loved. You couldn’t break out in goosebumps, or have a shiver roll down your spine when you felt the familiar pressure of his calloused fingertips pressing into the skin of your back, desperate to keep you close. You weren’t allowed to sigh in content when you felt the warmth of his body seep into your skin, or whimper when his hot breath rolled over the skin of your neck.

But now you could. Now, without the moral implications of enjoying another man, you could sink into this all-consuming feeling you have when Juri is near.

“Morning you two. We’ve got a video to film in the garage if you want to follow me?” The social media manager, Georgina,  a lovely woman in her 40s whom you always went to for advice and style tips, poked her head into the room you and Juri were tangled in, a cheeky smile on her face when she spotted the somewhat compromising position. A blush fell heavy on your cheeks, and you were quick to try and scramble away from Juri.

He had other ideas though. When Juri began moving, you clutched onto him for dear life, terrified of falling to the ground even though it was only about two feet. Your arms circled around his neck, your legs fully wrapping around his hips from where you were straddling him on the chair. His large hands came to rest on the underside of your thighs, hoisting you up higher on his body. Your legs clenched around his middle, the feel of his fingers pushing into the soft skin of your legs was electrifying, and you were sure if you didn’t have a video to film, you would have been telling the Estonian to find an unoccupied office to take what he needed from you.

But alas, you had a job to do. So, still wrapped around Juri like a vice, he carried you through the Hitech office, nodding to other staff you passed, and occasionally nuzzling his nose into your neck to get a good whiff of your perfume. Juri had said multiple times the scent was intoxicating and could bring any man to his knees. You may have gone out and bought an extra bottle to ensure you never ran out after that.

After a few minutes, you stepped into the garage with Juri, well, he stepped in you just kind of floated in. The scent of grease, rubber and a slight hint of fuel invaded your nostrils, and you sighed in content. Juri chuckled at your actions, he always loved watching you step into a garage, or out onto the pit lane to take in the smells of burnt rubber. You told him every time he laughed at you that it evoked a calm feeling within you, it was nostalgic, filled with happy memories from your childhood and the memories of races you shared with Juri on track.

“Alright lovebirds, can we get you in these chairs and we’ll start explaining while we finish getting set up.” Georgina stated, smiling fondly at the love between her two youngsters. Juri sat you down in one of the chairs sitting before the cameras, not leaving your side for long as he planted himself in his own chair and dragged you as close as possible.

Georgina explained the rules of the game, and the way you would be playing it, choosing you to sit in the background listening to music whilst Juri answered questions about you. First, they gave you a list of questions about yourself, asking to circle the correct answers and they would be compared to Juri’s during the game.

“Ok Juri, the first question. How old was Y/N when she started karting?” Georgina questioned. She watched you in the background closely to ensure you couldn’t hear anything, but you were blissfully unaware of everything around you, headphones in your ears, legs tucked up on the chair, scrolling through your phone with the occasional giggle escaping your lips. Each time Juri heard the angelic sound, he would turn to look at you with a look so soft it made the entire team’s heart swell.

“Uh, I think she was 10, I know she started late because she had to argue with her parents to let her do it with her brothers, and I think 10 is about the right age.” Juri answered, looking as though he was thinking quite hard about it. It had been a long time since the two of you discussed your start in karting, it was one of the first conversations you had together, and since then you hadn’t had to talk about generic teammate topics. Juri was proud that he remembered something seemingly insignificant from a year and a half ago, but supposed when it came to you he could never forget a thing.

“Alright, next question. What is Y/N’s biggest fear? Is it A, the ocean, B, goblins, or C, heights?” Juri’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head when he heard the second answer, trying to figure out why it was even an option in the first place. His eyes focused on one spot on the floor, his brain moving a mile a minute to analyse conversations he had with you.

“Well, we’ve been to the beach together a few times, and thinking back I don’t think she’s ever gotten into the water. So maybe the ocean, but she also said once when we were looking at a castle that she doesn’t like gargoyles, so goblins could be a thing. But she’s definitely not scared of heights. She’s gone skydiving, bungee jumping and climbed bridges and things like that. So I’m going to say the ocean. I feel like I would definitely know if she was scared of something like goblins.” Juri laughed, his eyes still glued to the spot on the floor, his thoughts flowing through his mouth with little consideration of how they could be interpreted.

“What is something Y/N never leaves the house with?” Georgina was hopeful for this question, she was sure it could be the catalyst for the two drivers to finally own up to their feelings after reading your answer. Juri listened to the multiple choice answers, but none of them sounded just right.

“So, the rings sound the closest, but sometimes she will wear lots, and other times only a few, and when she can’t wear them on her hands, she’ll thread it onto a necklace to wear under her race suit, or something so yeah, I’d say the rings.” Juri answered, turning to look at you behind him, wearing the exact ring he was talking about on the ring finger of your right hand.

“And what ring is the one she wears on her necklace?” Georgina probed, knowing the answer and just wanting to see the way Juri heated up when he talked about it.

“Uh, it’s a diamond ring that has a J engraved on the inside.” Juri answered, his cheeks turning an adorable shade of pink. A smile broke out on your face as you watched Juri, his flustered state always made you giggle as he was such a confident and put-together person usually. As a habit, you began spinning the ring on your right hand around, feeling the shape of the diamonds and knowing the initial carved into the inside was a claim over you.

“Do you know where she got it?” Georgina asked. She was getting frustrated, Juri was much more calm about revealing the intimacy of the ring than she had hoped.

“I gave it to her. About a year ago, and then she gave me a necklace with an (your initial) on it. I wear it every day, and it’s the only piece of jewellery I wear while I drive.” Juri answered, his fingers reaching up to toy with the thin gold chain hidden beneath his shirt. He looked over his shoulder at you, spotting the spinning ring immediately and smiling at you.

You looked up at him, a dazed look as you stared at the gorgeous man in front of you. He could see the stars in your eyes, staring at him as though he hung the moon, and if he was honest with himself, if you asked, he would. There was nothing you could ask of him that would be too much, even if you didn’t ask, he would do everything for you. No one had ever held this power over him, he wasn’t even sure it would feel this good if it were anyone else, but you just did something to him. You unlocked a part of him he didn’t know existed.

You were just, everything. To him. You were everything he ever wanted, ever needed, even everything he didn’t know he needed. You opened him up, poured sunshine into his life in the form of your smile, happiness penetrated his bones because of your laugh. He didn’t want to lose that again, didn’t want to lose you to another man. He needed you, and he needed you now.

It was like slow motion, the way Juri surged out of his chair toward you, his hands cupping your jaw roughly as he guided you to your feet. The laptop on the ground pulled the earphones from your ears, your phone clattering to the floor in your surprise. Your hands reached up to fist in his shirts, not wanting to lose this proximity. You had him in your grasp and you’d be damned if you ever let him go again.

Juri pressed his lips to yours, as soft and warm as you’d imagined them so many times before. You kissed him back with ferocity, the eighteen months worth of emotion poured into a kiss to communicate your feelings in a way that didn’t need words. He kissed back just as fiercely, his hands holding your face still to allow him to do exactly what he needed. You were pliable to his every demand, putty in his hands. Juri had always had this effect on you, every fleeting touch or brush of a hand on your waist made your knees weak and your stomach flutter with the force of a thousand butterflies.

Juri pulled away, barely a breath between your lips as he panted slightly. Your eyes were trained on his lips, the fullness of his bottom lip, the redness from your assault on them making them look all the more kissable.

“So, how about we switch that ring to the other hand and really make this a Mr & Mrs video?”

[demonslayedher]

The Sound Pillar past, I have heard that explore a bit in databook about being ninja.

Also what happened his sibling that still remain.

Also what there react

Combining info from the fanbooks and Chapters 80, 87, and 90 we get the following narrative of Uzui Tengen and his family, as complete as I could fill it in. It's always possible the anime version will expand and give us more, but here's what I've got in chronological format.

Uzui Tengen's father was the leader of their clan, one of a few ninja clans who lived in close community. Ninja were regularly sent on missions, but it is not clear what those missions were. Women and children were also expected to undergo strict training and go on missions, but women were primarily only valued as baby-makers, and it was common for one man to take multiple wives. The wives, at least in the Uzui case, were chosen upon agreements between families. (For more commentary on the unusual and cult-like nature of the Uzui ninja clan, please see this post.) In Chapter 80, Makio recalls how she never used to be afraid of dying because she was so brainwashed to believe her only value as a kunoichi (female ninja) was to put her life on the line in support of the strong male ninja. Tengen is the oldest of nine children. Of note, Fanbook #2 states that he has a mother and father from whom the nine children came, but as multiple wives is the norm in this village and Uzui was 15 when they were forced to fight each other, I think it's reasonable to assume many of them were half-siblings (even if all with one very busy wife, that would make the youngest one only around 7~9 years old or so, by my guess. But, it doesn't seem unreasonable in this clan that an 8-year-old would be expected to take part in this fight.)

Tengen had his three wives by the time he was 15. Since he is 23 when canon takes place and Hinatsuru (from a ninja clan second in rank to the Uzui clan and who has a good balance of core ninja skills) is 21, Makio (physically a highly capable ninja but her short temper causes her to fail her missions and yes, she is Tengen's cousin, please restrain your knee-jerk reactions and accept the cultural difference and move one) is 20, and Suma is 19 (and yes, Fanbook #2 said she likes both men and women), that means his wives were respectively 13, 12, and 11 when they fled the village. As Suma's younger sister was originally the one being considered as a bride, this means they were willing to marry off girls even younger than that. See this post for more commentary on multiple wives in the Taisho period, and as an added note, the legal age for women to marry in Taisho was 16. The Uzui ninja clan was entirely counter-cultural in the first place, though, so this doesn't apply very directly to them. Furthermore, due to their curse, the Ubuyashiki clan had very usually early expectations for children to wed, and they always run a not officially recognized organization. Otherwise, most of the cast seems to follow more usual Meiji/Taisho family patterns. Of the nine siblings, three of them died before Tengen turned 15, simply due to the lifestyle. When Tengen was 15 (clarified according to Fanbook #1), Tengen's father pit the remaining six siblings against each other so that only the strong would remain. They were all concealing their identities and did not know they were fighting their own siblings. According to Fanbook #2, Tengen killed two of them, and his younger brother (second oldest) killed another two, and Tengen was pissed when he realized what was happening. He couldn't bring himself to kill his remaining brother, though that brother was just like their father when it came to his values that only the strong should survive, and he really didn't care about killing his own flesh and blood. This was when Tengen decided he didn't want to live like this, and he took his wives and fled. For a while (according to Fanbook #2), he often said he should go to hell, but this made Makio angry, it made Hinatsuru cry, and it made Suma bite him so he stopped saying that. He did continue to think that he should eliminate the rest of this evil Uzui clan, but he could never bring himself to kill his father and little brother. (So, fanfic writers, grab your pens, we can assume the Uzui clan is still active.) Anyway, once he was free of that lifestyle where he had to constantly hide his presence, he thoroughly rebelled and embraced the flamboyant.

It's unclear when and how Tengen learning Breathing technique. It's possible there was knowledge of this technique in some form or another among the ninja (though his wives don't seem to display it), and it's also possible he learned from a cultivator. Sound is an off-shoot of Thunder, but it's unclear whether Sound was established before he came along, or if he created this Breath to make extra use of his keen hearing. (What I would give to see Tengen/Kuwajima interactions, preferably arguing about which Breath is superior.) It's unclear how much time passed between fleeing the clan and joining the Demon Slayer Corps. Given his ninja skills, as soon as he found out about the Corps (and perhaps by extension, demons), passing the Final Selection was probably a breeze for him. It was either right after the Final Selection (and therefore still waiting for his uniform), or just as he had made up his mind to join the Corp that he declares his new rule to his wives: their lives are #1 priority. #2 priority is morally upright humans, and #3 is Tengen himself.

And they're like, "whaaaaaaaat."

But sure enough they all accept the demon slaying mission, and before long, Tengen and his wives meet Oyakata-sama one fine spring day, I assume upon attaining the rank of Sound Pillar. Oyakata-sama sympathizes with how hard it must had been for Tengen--for all of them--to go against what they were raised to believe, and to fight to protect people in what they've deemed a morally upright course of life. Tengen's like, "this guy gets it" and becomes as big a fanboy as any other Pillar is for Oyakata-sama. It's purely conjecture, but I'm guessing he and Oyakata-sama both were somewhere around age 15~17 at this meeting (again, we don't know how much time has passed since Tengen left the ninja. Due to Kanae and Tengen's shared presence at later flashbacks, he couldn't had been older than 18~19). Tengen goes on to be super popular. The most popular Pillar in the Corp, Taisho Rumor has it. His wives all help on missions too, but there's an agreement that they'll get out and live a happy domestic life once they've bagged an Upper Moon--enough of a contribution to, perhaps, to feel they've atoned for the sins they committed as ninja (or at least, this was how Hinatsuru proposed the idea). Once the arm gets chopped and the eye gets cut, Tengen gains a really good excuse for retiring, but it was just his luck to have declared three Tsuguko within hours of his forced retirement. (Like, I doubt this counts for anything. And if he ever calls them that again his trio of Tsuguko are probably going to be more confused than anybody else.) Anyway, Nezuko brings him back from the brink of poison-induced death and he basically walks home. While still involved in the Corp in training the rank and file members and guarding Kiriya upon his becoming Oyakata-sama (meaning he, like Himejima, was trusted with knowledge in advance about Kagaya's very flamboyant exit plan). After that he truly goes into domestic retirement mode and makes friends with a fellow lop-sided former Pillar, however drab he always thought that person was. He takes enough of a liking to said former Pillar that he brings him along on co-ed hot spring dips and lets him hold his first child. Which of the three wives birthed the first child, we don't know. And then one of his descendants goes on to be a flamboyant gymnast, but still gathers once a year under Ubuyashiki's leadership to perform the Sound Breath forms as a sacred Kagura dance. And we still don't know what became of Tengen's brother. For all we know, modern gymnast Uzui Tenma and his six other siblings regularly avoid explosive attacks on their life from a generations-held promise to eliminate them. PARKOUR---but more flamboyant. (I hope it's obvious that I am being silly here and have no canon basis for this.)

[calpalirwin]

Let The Walls Break Down

Summary: Calum gets over his skepticism

Word Count: 2.7k

And away, and away we go!

__

“It’s almost impossible. Love sucks. Don’t try it. It’s a scam.”

That had been Calum’s general thoughts on relationships since the two of you called it quits. The “almost” bit was in admittance that 1.) your relationship had been amicable from start to finish, in fact the two of you were still close with each other, and 2.) he knew love worked for some people, however he didn’t view himself as one of those some.

Being close to Calum post breakup meant you had a front row seat to the man’s brief stints at romance, which was a nice way of saying “endless stream of one night stands.” The flip side was he had a front row seat to your own count of nameless men. While in the beginning, the others in your friend group joked in hushed tones that it was an act on both your parts to stir up jealousy, the longer it went on without any animosity building up between you and Calum, the more the whispers died down until they disappeared all together. Because the simple truth was that the one night stands were just about sex. After all, you and Calum had learned together that the two of you were too busy for anything more than casual sex. A lesson both of you considered well-learned until Michael got engaged and flipped everything into a new perspective.

“It’s not that I don’t believe in love,” you said after Crystal recounted all the details and you stopped squealing in excitement for her. “I mean, anyone who sees you and Michael has to believe it’s real.”

“Aw, Y/N,” Crystal blushed shyly.

You laughed, “I’m serious. You and Michael. Luke and Sierra. Ashton and Kaykay. I’m surrounded with reasons to believe love exists. The real ‘can’t imagine my life without you’ kind of love. But for me?” You waved a hand dismissively. “Pfft, nah.”

“Because you don’t believe he’s out there for you, or because you already had him and the timing was wrong?” she pressed suggestively.

You rolled your eyes. Right person, wrong time was the excuse you had given when asked when you and Calum split, because to you, it was the closest thing to the truth. “Okay…” you started slowly. “Of course I loved Cal. And I still love him now. But when we were together… We were kids who were focused on our careers. And we’re still those career-driven kids. Understanding the balance between professional life and personal life without feeling like we’re sacrificing a piece of it for another was something Cal and I will never master. We tried. I thought if I could find that balance with anyone, it would be with him. But it wasn’t. And that’s okay. I’m fulfilled in other ways.”

“But…” Crystal kept trying to press.

“But nothing,” you laughed. “I’m happy with my life the way it is, Crys. And beyond happy for you and Michael. You’re getting married!”

~~~

Across town in a celebration of their own, Calum was under similar fire. “Happy for ya, mate,” Calum said, clapping Michael on the shoulder.

“Thanks, Cal,” Michael beamed. “I think I’m still in shock from all of it.”

“I think that’s probably a natural feeling,” Ashton told him, playing the voice of reason. “It’s an exciting change that pulls things into sharper focus.”

“Yeah, like all I wanna do now is tell Sierra how much I love her,” Luke put in.

“Oh, you fuckin’ sap,” Calum laughed.

“Just because you’ve never been in love…”

“I have too!” Calum defended.

“Oh, really? Who?”

“Y/N, idiot…” Ashton told Luke with a roll of his eyes.

Luke nodded in a “Oh, yeah!” fashion, before going on, “Is she the only girl you ever loved?”

“Yep.”

“So why aren’t you still with her?”

Calum shrugged. “Timing was off. And we haven’t changed. So why would the timing have suddenly changed?” The question was rhetorical, without the slightest hint of hurt. A simple fact of life, nothing less, nothing more. A fact Calum had made peace with long before.

“So what? You’re fine with the greatest love of your life being over 2 years ago?” they questioned anyway.

He shrugged again. “Have been for a while, in case ya haven’t noticed. And no,” he raised a hand, cutting off any protest, “this isn’t a bitter, ‘oh convince me otherwise’ deal. Y/N and I are both more than happy with the lives we’re living.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I talk with her, and I trust she’s telling me the truth…”

“Alright, alright,” Ashton was willing to let the conversation rest, but he had one last question. “Is there any part of you that would want to try again with Y/N?”

A third and final shrug. “I mean, she was the only one I ever saw a future with aside from the band.”

“That has to mean something, Cal. C’mon. If there was ever a time to give love a chance, it’s now.”

~~~

While Calum’s head raced with his friends' words of encouragement, if he could call it that, yours raced with thoughts of feeling like you somehow failed in life. Sure, your career was everything you wanted it to be and more. You wouldn’t trade a single moment of your life for anything else. But now that your friends were clearly doing more than simple dating, the doubt started to trickle in. Would it be nice to share a life with someone? Absolutely. But not at the risk of your own independence. And the only person who had ever proven that you could maybe have the best of both worlds was Calum. And even that hadn’t worked. But maybe there was something to Crystal’s words about it being a case of bad timing. Maybe it was worth another try.

So that’s where you found yourself, sitting on the edge of your bed, sharing at Calum’s contact, finger hovering over the call icon, trying to figure out where and how to start again with the man. And then your phone was buzzing in your hand, and you gasped. Had you accidentally hit the call button?! No. Calum was calling you. Confused, you hit accept. “Hey, Cal. What’s up?”

“Not much. Just had a quick question for ya.”

“Well I might have a quick answer for ya.”

You heard his soft chuckle and then a brief pause as he cleared his throat, and you knew he was pushing a hand through his hair, stemming whatever nerves this “question” was creating. “You got any dinner plans for Friday?”

“No. Why?”

“There’s this new place I’ve been wanting a try, and you know how I am about eating out alone. And it’s been a minute since just the two of us hung out. So I’ll pick you up at 7?”

You gave a small laugh at the rushed excuse, wondering what he was really up to. “Sure thing, Cal.”

“Cool. Oh, and uh, dress in something nice-ish? The restaurant’s kinda uppity.”

Another small laugh. “Alright, Cal. See you Friday then.”

~~~

“It’s just dinner. It’s just Cal,” you told your reflection as you finished getting ready. “Nothing you haven’t done a million times before,” you kept trying to calm the butterflies in the pit of your stomach. While you had a pretty good idea on what this dinner really was, you didn’t want to get your hopes up that Calum was having the same change of heart that you’d been having. The man really did hate eating alone at restaurants, and if the place was as upscale as he had told you, then it made sense that he’d rather bring you along than Ashton. And he had been right about it being a good while since it was just the two of you spending time together rather than a larger group outing.

But when Calum knocked on your door rather than texting that he was in your driveway, you couldn’t stop the blush coloring your cheeks. And when you opened the door to reveal the man on the other side, dressed sharply with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand, you felt your heart skip a beat. “Oh, Cal,” you breathed. “You didn’t have to do that,” you told him, taking the flowers and moving to put them in a vase of water.

“It’s how you deserve to be treated,” he said simply with a shrug as he leaned against your doorway.

“You’re too sweet to me, Hood,” you teased lightly. “Ready?”

“After you.”

When he went as far as to get the car door for you, you had to laugh. “Okay, Hood. What gives?”

“I told you. I’m treating you the way you deserve to be treated.”

“Nah, there’s more. I can tell. C’mon. Spill it,” you pressed when he got in the driver’s seat. “Flowers. Getting the door. Dinner at a place that requires me to dress like this. You’re up to something.”

“You look stunning, by the way,” he said, reaching over to give your thigh a squeeze.

“Calum Thomas Hood.”

He sighed. “We were good, right? Like when we were together? It’s not my memory playing tricks on me?”

“You were the best boyfriend I ever had,” you answered honestly.

He nodded. “Okay. You’re not allowed to make fun of me. But since Mike got engaged, it’s gotten to me a bit. Almost like I’m missing out on something, but it’s weird because my life is already everything I want it to be. So what could I possibly be missing out on, you know?”

“Why would I make fun of you for that?”

“Because it’s a stupid ass reason to take you on a date.”

“Oh, is that what this is? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Ha-ha,” he deadpanned. “Look, I guess what I’m saying is, recent events made me reevaluate things in my life. And I think I’m in a better position than I was a few years ago to be a real partner to someone. And even when I wasn’t that person, you were the only one I could see myself becoming that person for. So… if you’re up for it, I’d really like for us to try again.”

Underneath the streetlight casting him in a soft reddish hue, he turned his head slightly to look over at you, brown eyes hopeful and solemn. When the light turned green, he turned his attention back to the road, but kept stealing glances over at you, still waiting for your response.

“I guess it’s only fair to let you know that I’ve been thinking the same thing.”

The corner of his mouth curved up in a smile. “Really?”

“Really,” you said with a soft smile and a small nod of your head. “I was actually hoping this was more on the date side than the friends grabbing a bite to eat side.”

“Good, because this is definitely a date.”

“Good,” you nodded again before leaning across the center console to press a kiss to his cheek, grinning as warmth spread across his face.

~3 Years Later~

You startled awake at a phone ringing nearby, a tangled mess of limbs and bedsheets. “Mmm?” Calum rasped, voice heavy with sleep as he answered the phone, followed by a quick, “Whoa, mate, stop yelling. You did what now?” There was a small pause as whoever was on the other end of the conversation spoke in a rapid flurry that you couldn’t decipher. “You did?!” Calum clarified whatever the news was, sitting up straight in bed, your head falling from his chest to his lap.

“Ow…” you giggled, shifting to sit up against the headboard like Calum was.

“Sorry,” Calum mouthed, listening intently to whoever he was still talking to, raising a finger for you to give him a minute when you raised an eyebrow in silent question. “That’s fuckin’ great, Luke! Congrats to the both of you. Lemme know what the plans are for celebrating and give Sierra a hug from me in the meantime, yeah? Alright. Talk to ya later, mate. Bye.”

“Well?” you demanded.

“Luke and Sierra are getting married. Or he proposed anyway, and she said yes.”

“Oh, that’s great!”

“Yeah, I’m really happy for them. Wow… first Mike, now Luke. We really aren’t the same kids we used to be, are we?”

“I think in some respect you guys still are. You still cling to those roots of who you used to be, the things that shaped you into the people you are now. But you guys are also growing up, too. It happens, Cal.”

“Yeah, no, I just… Wow. It’s not something I really pay much attention to, us growing up, until something like this happens.”

“The last time one of your band members got engaged, you got a case of feeling like you weren’t measuring up somehow. You’re not feeling that way now, are you?”

“No. Not at all. In fact… Luke said something when Mike told us he got engaged. That he wanted to go tell Sierra how much he loved her.”

“Aw, that’s really sweet.”

“Yeah, and at the time I made fun of him for it. But… I dunno… I get it. This type of shit really shifts things into perspective.”

“I mean, yeah. Last time it resulted in both of us thinking we should try being an ‘us’ again. What’s the perspective shifting to this time? You’re not gonna go out, and buy a ring, are you?”

“No, I already have one in my sock drawer.”

You choked. “What?”

He climbed out of bed with a laugh, making his way to the dresser and rummaging around in one of the top drawers. Then, something small was soaring through the air as he tossed whatever it was onto the bed towards you. “Told ya,” he said simply, as you grabbed the small box, popping the lid to find a ring inside.

“How long have you had this?” you asked, your voice a small whisper.

“Uh… 2016 I think,” he said as he rejoined you in bed.

“So, since the first time we dated?”

“Yep.”

“Calum!”

“What?” he laughed. “I told you our entire relationship, both then and now, that you’re the only person I see a future with. Did you think I was lying?”

“No! I- I just didn’t know you went so far as to get a ring, and keep it for 5 bloody years.”

“Well, it would have been a little weird if you had it all these years, considering… ya know.”

You laughed in a mix of disbelief and shock. “You are absolutely crazy.”

“I’m not actually proposing, you know that, yeah? I mean, yes, the ring is yours. But only if you want it to be. I love the life we have together, more so than I thought I could love any other version of my life. I never feel like I’m stuck in place, or missing something when I’m with you. I’ll be just as happy if you never wear that ring, as I would if you wore it every day for the rest of your life. You, me, Duke, and music is all I’m ever gonna need in life. I’ve known it since the first time I said I love you. Even in those years we thought chasing our careers was more important, you were still the only person I’ve ever been in love with.”

“Calum…” you breathed, your lip trembling.

“Shh, if you want the whole deal of the proposal and the picture perfect wedding, I’ll give that to you gladly. That’s what the ring’s for. But if you’re content with what we have now, this will always be enough for me, and that’s a promise.”

“I don’t want a proposal only because Luke and Sierra made you extra sentimental. I don’t want to take their moment away from them either.”

“That ring has been yours far longer than any extra sentiment our friends getting engaged could stir up, but I get what you’re saying. If/when you want it, say the word.”

“Ask me again in a year,” you decided. “And I mean really ask me. The whole deal.”

“I can’t fuckin’ wait,” he murmured as his lips crashed into yours, his hands cupping your face. “I’m so in love with you. Always have been. Always will be.”

__

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