#almost forgot about this iconic fit..

[the-californicationist]

Good Fences (Fluffuary #08)

FEB08: Love Letters

John’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He was staked out in the middle of the desert with the 141, keeping an eye on the Konni warehouse they were about to hit. His mind should have been on the mission, but all he could think about was his little lover waiting for him at home. 

Feeling his phone vibrating in his pocket gave him an almost Pavlovian response. He knew it was her; he’d set the ringtone specifically so. His breath hitched in his chest, his heart raced, and his hand itched to reach into his pocket to check his notifications. The captain felt like an addict, but he didn’t care. He was hooked.

He sat down in the small alcove next to his gear and unlocked his cell. The red notification icon on his email taunted him. Before he opened the email, he checked over his shoulder to make sure no one would see the contents. 

Dear John,

Just wanted to send you a message to let you know to expect three charges on your credit card. I paid your water bill, your gas bill, and I accidentally bought a movie on your Amazon Prime. I guess I forgot to log you out after our last movie night together. I have a whole week’s worth of movies for us to watch when you get back. Been keeping a list of the good ones. 

I hope you’re doing well. I know you can’t always respond, but I miss you and I’m thinking about you all the time. It feels like you’re thinking about me, too, and I’m choosing to believe that it’s true. Stay safe. 

Yours. xoxo

Over his shoulder, John felt Gaz’s eyes on his message, and he clicked the screen off before shoving the phone back in his pocket. 

“Gettin’ updates from that neighbor girl, huh, Cap?” His sergeant quipped. 

Ghost smiled from across the small enclosure,

“He’s been glued to that phone like he’s waitin’ on a call from the bloody queen herself.”

“Perhaps we should all mind our own business, then,” Price bristled. 

“Did his lass send another message?” Johnny popped his head out of the doorway, talking around his toothbrush.

“Aye,” Ghost nodded, “But he’d like you not to notice, Sergeant.”

“Simon…” Price warned, hissing his name through his teeth. 

“Oh, c’mon, Cap’n,” Soap begged, emerging from the room, “Show us her wee photo again. She looked so bonnie…”

Price rolled his eyes and took out his phone, opening his lock screen to show Soap his background photo. It was one she had taken of herself on her porch, showing off a new plant she’d “rescued” from the home goods store. She did indeed look quite fit, the captain thought to himself, gazing upon the photo with no small amount of longing. 

“Jaysus,” Soap whistled, “We better rush through this fuckin’ op, boys. The captain has somewhere wayyyy more important to be.” 

The young sergeant clapped his commander on the shoulder, ribbing him supportively, laughing a bit at Price’s obvious embarrassment. 

John waited for all the nonsense to die down before opening his email to reply:

Hey love, 

Shouldn’t be too long now. Thanks for taking care of things while I’m gone. Don’t worry about the Prime. Buy all the movies you like. In fact, you should get yourself something nice from me. It’d make me feel like I was there taking care of you. 

I miss you so much, and you’re bloody fucking right about me thinking of you. It’s literally all I can do these days, and you’re always on my mind. Stay safe, pretty girl. 

Yours. xxxx

John sent the message and fixed his eyes back on the warehouse. He stared into the battleground with a renewed purpose. The sergeant was right. He had much more important things waiting for him at home, and he was in a hurry to get back to her.

Check out the schedule here.

AO3 Link

#the californicationist does fluff #fluffuary 2024 #fluffuary #john price fluff #john price #captain john price #captain price #john price x reader #john price x you #captain price x reader #captain price x you #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you #cod #cod fanfiction #call of duty #call of duty fanfiction #cod mw2 #cod mwii

[canaidliafail]

Stay grounded

streamer Abby x streamer f!reader 🌿

[part 1 ]. [part 2]

Not proof read like at all. pure crap. Im just horny had an idea and wrote it down. enjoy tho~ MDI cause it will get explicit in later chapters

CW: college exams, weed

“fuck, give me a caption”

“I like tits”

“literally fuck you”

you mumbled and your friends laughed, enjoying your misery. You stared at the blank space below your post and pursed your lips in concentration. Eventually you started typing cringing at every word

“trying some new products ˖◛⁺ ⑅ ♡”

and pressed “post” on the photo tossing your phone on the other side of the couch defeated. Been a presence online sure had its fun but you were also filled with the existential dread that people knew you “existed”

150k people to be exact. not much but more than you ever expected to get from your hobby. You usually posted your figurine collection from the most recent games you streamed with the occasional over the top pic of you dolled up and in clothes styled to fit the game of the month which unsurprisingly always over performed in statistics.

you had been doing this for a good two years now give or take and it was a wild turn of events considering how quickly and well your career took off. You loved the financial comfort but hated how exposed you constantly felt.

“Don't you have a stream tonight?” your friend,june, asked and you shook your head rubbing your face and squeezing your eyes shut to hopefully get rid of the persistent ache

“No, I'm resting for the week. Told them I have exams or whatever”

she passed you the blunt and you took a few puffs in silence staring into space

“Mind if I put on some music?”

“no go ahead” you mumbled and went to the kitchen to make coffee as you heard the first notes of mr.kitty after dark play in the living room.

“We need to go on a trip somewhere”. June said and Cassie agreed

“trip? where?” you shouted loud enough to be heard across the halls

“I don't know man but like, leave this town for a bit. Remember how fun we had on our last trip ?”

you smiled. Italy was fun. England was insane and Germany was borderline a fever dream. all three unique and all three with a romantic disappointment that entertained your friend group for months and you had to admit you had been craving leaving your city for a while now. Had it not been for the fact that you were on your last semester at college you would be somewhere else every other week -without any romantic endeavors-

You made the quickest shittiest coffee and went back to the living room sitting on the floor “Once Im done with exams we can go anywhere you want” you promised. Your phone pinged the flash going on and off

“What the fuck”

“Im suing for optical damage”

they yelled and grabbed your phone tossing it your way and you all but laughed

“Sorry sorry my bad forgot to turn off flash alerts”

You tapped your screen and almost choked on your coffee fumbling to unlock your phone the lyrics blurring in the background until they became a numbing buzz

staygrounded69 just made a new post

you tapped the icon and saw the new photo. You couldn’t quite understand what it was about her but she had you hooked and entirely captivated. It wasn’t a crush but you always found yourself checking for new posts or streams.

Abby, known by her public name staygrounded was a gamer who streamed here and there. In a more a casual stream she eventually explained that her nickname was a jab by her friend when she asked for ideas and he said “staygrounded, get it? cause of your fear of heights?” and it just stuck by.

That wasn’t why she had blown up though. No it was due to her coming out as a lesbian and that fueled every female straight and not. She was after all, a tall muscular woman with beautiful blonde hair and a face with unique features that deserved appreciation in the form of oil paintings and perhaps a face seating

you shook your head trying not to let your mind fall too deep into hopeless thirsty thoughts and admired the new photo. a casual gym pic. Fuck she wasn’t even flexing her muscles or anything. she wore the baggiest grey sweatpants with a black hoodie and a black cap with her braided hair and the lower half of her face peaking through sitting on a bench casually

and yet you felt weak. you bit your lower lip and chewed on it a little

“Cotton????” your friends called out to you by your streamer nickname and snapped their fingers. you looked up feeling your cheeks heat up

“aaah did she post?”

“mhm” you nod excitedly and went back to looking at the photo. You tapped the share button and posted it on your story leaving a small note

“her <3”

not been shy of publicly “aPprEciAtiNg” her since she was hell of a popular figure and would for sure not see your reshare.you let out a sigh and june smirked

“what ails you my victorian maiden”

“I love women” you said dreamily and took a sip of your coffee

“Wish they loved you back” Cassie bit and you grabbed your pillow and went over to her “oh you’re dead” you barked and she laughed as you started playfully smothering her with the stuffed item.

“alright time for me to bounce” june said first and grabbed her things “my teacher will probably be up my ass for coming so late” she groaned and you looked at the time “yeah I need to also get going”

“sucks to suck. Ill go take a nap” Cassie said and grabbed her things.

you and June both had afternoon classes while Cassie was happily a drop out who did seasonal work and rested during winter. The two of you were very visibly jealous of her not having to deal with the pain of exams.

“Yeah yeah get over yourself” June said jabbing her at her sides and Cassie yelped running in front of her, June chasing her down the stairs and you being the last one to leave the apartment to lock the door.

•••

You were in class when it happened. Your week ended with a babging 3 hour lecture entirely dedicated to pattern making. You were ready to grab the scissors and stab yourself to end this. You friend also seemed to slowly wither away while your teacher remained as chipper as always

“Now regarding coats-“ she continued and you pushed your chair away from the desk softly getting up to grab fresh paper to start copying the notes she was starting to draw on the board

You spread it out on your desk and grabbed the ruler and pencil and started measuring a No.44 coat purposefully being slower than usual so that you wouldn’t have to do much work. Your brain was squeezed dry for the day and this class was always the most difficult

you grabbed your phone to take a picture of the finished measurements and pattern on the board to have it for later. You opened the camera and zoomed in ready to take a pic

staygrounded69 liked your story

came the first notification and you fumbled with your phone as it nearly fell off of your hands. You sat down on your chair and stared at the icon for a hard long minute not wanting to tap it and see just a fan account instead. You decided to stay delusional

staygrounded69 liked your post

staygrounded69 liked your post

a few minutes later came another few notifications and then that was it. You opened your page and tapped the username that led to her profile.

holy shit

it really was her

its fucking her

You breathed in quitting her page and tapping her username again still in disbelief. She saw your photos. She had specifically liked the ones with your face in.

“Refrain from using your phones in class” your teacher reminded you and you were snapped back into reality

right patterns

coats

you shoved your phone in your bag and tried to focus on the sheet in front of you. for the remaining half hour you faked working on the class assignment and pretending to draw lines and correct them and the second your professor dismissed you, you bolted out of the class and grabbed your phone and checked for any new notifications. There was none and you tried to ignore the soft pang of disappointment that filled your chest.

You did hope she would follow you back or something but that was ridiculous considering how famous she was and by your knowledge she only followed her friends the she hang out with outside her online careers which was a dreadfully low number of people meaning there was no reason for her to follow you

you called june “you won't believe what happened”

“Oh my god. Its about that hot beefy streamer isn’t it?”

“Yes yes it is!”

and you heard screaming on the other line till the mic peaked and muted her out entirely. You gave her a few moments of squealing till she was back on the line ready to question you

“spill. what happened? Did she see your story? did she reply to it?”

“alright no nothing that important but-“

“oh come onnnn”

“BUT!” you interrupted and she waited for you to continue

“but she liked two of my pictures. You know what this means? it means she went through my page and liked two of my pictures June!”

“Wow oh my she will propose to you. She is so in love oh god”

You kept hyping up each other’s delusions all the way to your bus station

“did she text you ? any other notifications?”

you pulled your phone away and checked your page.nothing new so far

“no nothing yet, oh my bus is here”

“alright keep me updated if anything happens”

you hung up and walked inside the vehicle and sat on a plastic seat daydreaming of every possible scenario between you and Abby. However the more you sat the more the high of the excitement wore off and the more you settled back into your usual sorrowful self

ok and? she liked your posts. hell she is probably a player and likes every cute girls posts

you thought and sank further into the seat drowning in the soft music playing from your headphones. you tapped your foot on beat and rested your head against the cold misty windows of the bus. You started lying to yourself pretending this didn’t affect you much and that you'd be over her by tomorrow

You walked back home and tossed your bag carelessly near the shoe rack while taking off your boots and coat in one go leaving them on the floor not caring to tidy up. You went to the sofa and turned on your ps4 feeling excited that you finally had a few hours to dedicate to yourself

You logged into assassin’s creed valhalla ready to continue. This was your third play through and the only game you refused to play on stream. You liked keeping it as a way to comfort yourself and disassociate. You were planning on eventually getting tge ¼ scale Eivor statue that cost the not so humble amount of 1,2k $. Until you were ready to commit to such an expense though you settled for seeing your favorite character in game and left the statue in your wishlist amongst the other figurines you wanted to get

in between enjoying the game you checked the time and remembered today was Abbys turn to stream. You hated to admit that you had purposely made a schedule around hers so that you wouldn’t miss any time she went live, good example being now. You unlocked your phone leaving her stream open waiting for it to start while simultaneously running around in the forest, leisurely exploring the areas in your game

“Hey everyone! Can you all hear me fine? musics not too loud?”

came abbys voice and you snapped your head to your phone looking at her. fuck she was wearing that grey sleevless tank-top again

“Todays stream will be more chill. thought we could just catch up and chat a bit. I ugh had a long day at the gym”

she continued in her usual timid tone. On first look you would never think a woman like her would be so damn shy but she was. Or maybe it was just the camera and audience that caused her to be a bit more chaotic. Its not like you knew what she really was like behind the lens.

“Oh hey Alice nice to see you again!” she said taking her time to greet most of the people viewing her

“Oh we have Nora and Manny in the chat too” she said with a soft laugh. Nora. Oh you knew Nora. Abby usually posted with two women. Both seemed to be friends with her but could equally be suspected to be her girlfriend. One was Nora. They went to the same gym together and often hung out on stream. The second one was Ellie. Another streamer who in the beginning had a very well known hatred towards Abby until one day they miraculously made up and started occasionally hanging out.

not that it mattered to you if either of them was dating Abby…

“Next games? hm..Im not sure. Any suggestions”

you hesitated. You were a silent watcher most days. actually you had never said a damn word other than a donation to her stream and when she called you by your username back then to thank you, you felt so embarrassed that you decided to be one of the lurkers in her stream. Must have been a year ago or so when no one knew you either so there wasn’t a big deal made out of your name being mentioned. You felt stupid for even considering that anyone knew you at all to care if you left a comment. Even in the slim chance that your audience overlapped no one would really bother making a big deal out of it

“Have you tried ac valhalla?” you looked at your comment again and again till deciding to press send and then wait

“yeah not sure about that one..” she seemed to be reading and expanding a bit on which games she considered giving it a go or not. You felt a bit of relief thinking your comment was lost in the sea of others and resumed your game only to pause it shortly after

“Cotton? heh, cute nickname…I haven’t tried any of the assassins creed games but Ill check it out” You heard and your hands started to shake in excitement your ears burning from the heat.

Its not like Abby had any unique accent but the way she said your nickname made you twirl your hair and giggle to yourself. You grabbed your phone again

“oh really? she is?” you heard abby say and you read the comments the excitement turning into plain horror and mortification when you saw people start to recognise you and tease you for recommending the game they had probably seen you continuously post on your stories for a year straight. You exited the stream in shame and gently put your phone on the coffee table continuing your game.

I will end it all for real

this was my last straw

By the time the embarrassment of this minor inconvenience wore off You were in the middle of finishing the Granterbridge arc when you decided to post another story with a short caption regarding the characters. Your phone slowly started going off with notifications with people responding to your story and being in a sour mood you decided to mute it and continue your game till you fell asleep on the couch. The only reason you woke up was because you actually had a really shitty sofa with the thinnest pillows that did nothing to shield you from the hard wooden planks beneath.

You groaned in pain and looked at the screen of your Tv. Your ps4 was on rest mode and at 4.00 am you couldn’t be bothered to do anything about that so you just grabbed your phone and walked to your bedroom quickly going through the unusually vast amount of notifications in case there was something from your friends that you had missed

you stopped in front of your bedroom door and rubbed your eyes. your mind was blank. it was 4.00 am

you read the notification again

staygrounded69: hi

••••

heres my ko-fi tip jar if you enjoy my work 🤍

#abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #abby anderson #tlou2 #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x y/n

[sheisjoeschateau]

“You’re there. You were always there.”

A MULTI-PART FANFICTION SERIES, INSPIRED BY STRANGER THINGS, WRITTEN BY MISHA ST. JAMES.

Steve Harrington x fem!character. Childhood friends to lovers.

Slow burn. Angst. Romance. Smut with plot. Spin-off of pre-existing character.

A note from the writer:

—

Hello there darlings. What started off as a rough one-shot concept inspired by my rewatching Stranger Things season one for the billionth time evolved into my new favorite fan fiction series that I have written and created. This truly has become my baby. I said it in my original post when leaving a sneak preview of this work of mine…but I’ll say it again. This piece really has become my baby.

I overthink everything. I like to dive deep beneath the surface of things and overthink things into magnificent new realities. A seemingly random (almost forgettable) character in this show ended up making my mind spiral. As a writer, I believe that all characters in books and cinema have purpose. So naturally, my mind wanted to make something of a character that only appears at random yet crucial parts of the show’s story.

Nicole only appeared in season one and she was assumed to be a friend of Steve’s. To us, she was no one. Yet the Duffers introduced us to her as if she was an already established character in the series. Steve seemed almost too comfortable with her, like there was history between them. But we never explored that past the first season. That really started to bug me during this last binge-watch I had. So being the over dramatic writer that I am, I decided to make something of it myself. And damn, did it just…flow. I had no plans of making this such a big series but yeah, here we fucking are.

I gave her my last name because, well, *hair flip* I’m a narcissistic bitch like that when it comes to writing. ;) So in this series of mine, she is written Nicole St. James. I took some inspiration from The Breakfast Club because, ya know, Claire Standish? Molly Ringwald was an iconic redhead in the 80s film world, and that role in particular really seemed to fit how I wrote Nicole while fitting how she was presented in the show. I also did not want to give her a predictable personality either (because, again, as a writer I’m complex like that). So I did not take the typical “mean girl” route with her character because that honestly would just hit a wall. I wanted there to be a reason for her her in this show. I think the actress who played her did a good job with it, given there wasn’t much for her to work with.

I actually researched the actress a bit (Glenellen Anderson) and she’s actually very talented. She said something in one of her interviews about her role being small in ST but serving a crucial part in the first season of the series, given her being the reason that Steve finds out about Jonathan taking the pictures in his yard that night. Idk tbh I lowkey feel like a stalker who’s obsessing over an actor before they make it big so that one day I can be like YEAH I KNEW SHE WAS COOL WHEN SHE WAS STILL UNDERRATED. Lol ok moving on —

So I guess that’s it then. Time for me to shut up and just let the story I’ve created speak for itself. Thank you to some of my favorite writers on here and fellow Steve Harrington fanatics for inspiring me to release my own work into this universe. I’ve been very hesitant but I am glad to finally be doing it. I want to hear your thoughts and honest opinion while also asking kindly that you keep my emo heart in consideration when doing so 👉🏻👈🏻 If I forgot to tag you, I sincerely apologize. Please remind me in comments so that I can remember next time!

*disclaimer: this is based on pre-existing characters. in the show, nicole is portrayed by a redheaded white female actress so I based my writing around that. I do not discriminate against ANY race or preferred gender roles who choose to read and engage with my stories.

Enjoy and please leave feedback :)

x, MISHA

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK ON ANY PLATFORMS WITHOUT PROPERLY CREDITING ME AS THE WRITER. I DO NOT GRANT PERMISSION FOR YOU TO CLAIM MY WRITING AND WORK AS YOUR OWN. YES, THIS IS A FAN FICTION BASED ON A PRE-EXISTING SHOW. HOWEVER THERE IS BASIC COURTESY TO BE EXPECTED IN THE WRITING COMMUNITY SO PLEASE RESPECT THAT. 🖤

Warnings: This is very much an 18+ written fan fiction series. Please read at your own risk. There is language, eventual mentions of blood and violence, drinking, sex, etc. There is also going to be mention of homophobia because the 80s were full of misogynistic men and women who were so unforgivingly dense (like fucking Tommy H. and Carol Perkins), so I want to address that as we eventually introduce Robin and Will into the series so that we can have our outstanding LGBTQ darlings welcomed and given the representation that they deserve.

—————

VOLUME I

“You’re there. You were always there.”

——————

Steve Harrington is six years old when he meets you: the girl who carries the other half of him with her. 

He first spotted her playing outside alone, in the yard right across from his. She has a big treehouse, and no one but herself to share it with. And even though you seem content — he doesn’t know why, but it makes him sad. Watching you alone, in your own great big world, and no one begging to share it with you. 

So after a week, he walks across the street to do something about it. He had watched you climb the little red ladder up to the top, making round trips with your backpack and various items. 

The door to your treehouse is made of wood, painted pastel yellow with tiny butterfly stickers adorning it in random places. He hears you, talking to yourself the way you would talk if you had company. Maybe it’s to an imaginary friend. Or maybe, you just like to talk to yourself. Regardless, he knocks, and your gibberish ceases. Eventually, he hears your feet padding closer and closer.  The door creaked open, revealing your curious grey eyes. Your red hair framed your small, heart shaped face, and the cream knit sweater that you wore looked almost as warm as you were.

“Hi,” Steve said. “I’m Steve. I live in that house over there.”

He pointed to the big house that loomed just across the street from you, and you briefly peeked out to look at it before looking back at him. Your full pink lips pressed into a shy smile.

“I’m Nicole,” you told him. “I’m six.”

“Me, too,” Steve tells you, proudly and with a dashing smile. But then he furrows his brow. “Why are you having a tea party by yourself?”

You look back into your little safe haven, following his gaze that stares at the eclectic assortment of tea cups and teapots set for multiple people when it was just you. 

“Oh, well I just like to be ready,” you tell him. “In case I make any friends.” 

Suddenly, you beam at him. Your usually shy demeanor dissolves as the gleam in your eye shines through. 

“Do you wanna be my friend?” you ask Steve, who raises his eyebrows in response.

“Umm, yeah,” he finally responds, nodding his head. He stuffs one hand into the pockets of his little Levi jeans, fastened with a belt and all, already a charmer with his polo sweater. His other hand goes to push back some of his floppy chestnut hair. “Yeah, let’s be friends.”

You smile brightly.  “Okay.”

And so you are, just like that.  Friends.  As you pour Steve a cup of chocolate milk, which you both confidently call hot tea without remark, you quietly hum to yourself.

Steve watches you, thinking you’re really pretty.  Whenever you go to pass him a teacup, he takes it and quickly looks around, pretending he wasn’t just staring at you.  He was in awe, really.  Fairy lights were strewn about, with potted flowers in the windowsills.  There was a table with lots of crayons, markers and gel pens, unfinished drawings scattered underneath them.  A few completed drawings were hung up on the walls.  

“Doesn’t it get scary up here all by yourself?” he asks you, genuinely curious.

As you set the little teapot back down, you shrugged your shoulders and shook your head. “Mm-mm,” you tell him. “I’m safe up here.”

You raise your teacup to your little pout to sip.  You seemed so content all by yourself, as if the word ‘lonely’ was completely foreign to you.

Steve is six years old when he sees the reflection of his better self in you.

_______

Steve is 7 years old when he calls you his best friend.

You’re both playing at recess, roped into a game of duck-duck-goose. A little girl named Carol is sitting next to you, and Steve watches her roll her eyes and huff throughout most of the game. You’ve been smiling and laughing this whole time, except when she gets mad that you don’t pick her when you’re circling the group of kids and selecting someone to chase you.

“Nicoooole,” she whines. 

You look at her as if you’re terribly afraid of what you could have done wrong. Carol crosses her arms, pouting.

“You’re supposed to pick me,” she complains.

“Oh,” you said, eyes wide.  “I-I didn’t know you wanted me to.”

You shuffled your feet, your loafers twisting in the grass.  Your ponytail blew in the breeze, along with the little flyaway baby hairs, and you looked a little embarrassed – almost ashamed – as the kid you had picked goes to sit in the assigned mush pot, since she couldn’t catch you.

“Well I do,” Carol said, matter of fact. 

Steve grimaces. He hated seeing you so uncomfortable, and he really hated the way this girl was talking to you.

“Those aren’t the rules,” Steve argued, defending you. 

You looked at Steve, a little relief becoming evident in your timid eyes.

“It’s not not in the rules,” Carol snarks back. Alright, now Steve is just plain bothered. This girl is annoying. And shamelessly entitled. 

Carol looks back at you, glaring. “Pick me next time.”

You slowly sit back down next to her, sinking into the grass with a frown. You look so timid, sad even. Steve wanted to drag you across the circle to sit next to him, but he didn’t because you were suddenly standing again, stuttering a little “Oh,” realizing it was still your turn. 

You cautiously made your way around the kids, placing your hand on top of everyone’s heads while saying “duck.”  You started to sweetly grin as you approached Steve, who grinned back. You plopped your hand on top of his head, definitely messing up his hair, but he didn’t mind. It was you, and that was okay. Anyone else, no. 

You fearfully dubbed Carol duck as you passed her, and her jaw clenched. She kept her arms tightly folded, watching you like a hawk. Steve narrowed his eyes at the snarky girl, already hating her. You patted his head again, “duck,” and Steve watched you curiously. Surely, you weren’t gonna pick her. Then again, he was afraid of what would happen if you didn’t. 

But sure enough, you did pick Carol. 

Goose. 

Carol smirked so fast before bolting upright to chase you around the playground. 

Steve was wildly chanting your name, along with the others.

“Go, Nicole!” he shouted, rooting you on. The others echoed his cheers. Your red hair flipped in the wind, ponytail bouncing behind you as you dashed back towards him in your school dress and loafers. 

Carol looked so convinced that she was gonna take you down, but you were faster. She chased you with a devilish smile, which began to quickly dissolve once she saw you getting closer to homebase.

Suddenly, you plopped down beside Steve, out of breath. He and the others hurrayed, and you smiled as you panted.

But Carol scoffed, finally making it over to you all in the circle. She buckled over her knees, trying to catch her breath.

“Ha-ha, Carol,” some boy sneered jokingly. 

“Yeah Carol, mush pot time,” Steve chimed in, a little too happily.

She scoffed again, louder this time. “No way, that’s not fair.”

Steve twitched incredulously. “W’you mean it’s not fair? She beat you.”

Carol’s jaw clenched again, and she stared daggers in your direction as she put her hands on her hips with a sour attitude. Steve cringed at the sight of just how nasty she looked, hating that it was being directed towards you. You shrunk back in your seated position on the grass, looking afraid. As Carol stalked over to sit in the middle of everyone, she kept staring at you with a look that could kill. You looked to the ground, and Steve kept his place next to you with a newfound wave of protection washing over him.

“Fine, well,” Carol sneered.  “I’m not your friend anymore.”

Carol’s words were nothing but laughable. To any mature adult — hell, any human not in kindergarten — her remark would have meant nothing. But to you? A seven year old with a heart of gold, and the desire to just make everyone feel included? Her words were detrimental. They meant you were a horrible person. You were to blame.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t —“ you stumble, voice shaking. “I didn’t mean to, Carol, I-I…”

Carol whipped her head around to not face you. Your eyes were really sad now, and Steve’s heart sank.  You brought your knees to your chest, and your grey eyes went a little glassy.

“I can switch w-with you,” you kept trying. “I’ll sit—”

“Shut up,” she barked. “I said you’re not my friend.”

“Yeah, well she’s my best friend.”

Steve’s words landed hard. 

Carol whipped her head around again, now facing him. Everyone in the circle stared at the perfect-haired boy, including you. Sweet, innocent you. Your grey eyes peered over at him nervously. But there was a glint of hope in them, too, and if you weren’t so shaken up and close to crying you would have smiled. 

Steve shot one last disgusted look in Carol’s direction, then rose to his feet.  He reached out a hand, taking one of yours from your knees.

“C’mon,” he told you.  “Let’s go play somewhere else.”

You blinked, but didn’t hesitate to follow his lead.  You looked at him, giving him a small smile before looking downwards again.  Steve wrapped his fingers around your hand so tightly, and your little heart fluttered.  He was so warm, and you felt so safe.

Carol huffed, appalled.  “Since when are you best friends with ugly redheads, Harrington?!”

Your heart sank even lower as you saw Steve’s eyes go fierce, his jaw clenched.  He whipped around to look at Carol.

“The only ugly redhead here is you,” he shot back at her, and her jaw dropped.  All the kids reacted, some laughing and some making amused remarks.  But Steve didn’t pay them any mind as he stalked off with you, hand in hand.

You kept up with him as best you could with your little legs, feeling his grip on your hand tighten.  He looked so mad, and you gulped.

“Steve?” you asked, voice quiet.

“Don’t listen to them,” he mumbled, shaking his head.  He was staring straight ahead, mind racing.  You could tell he was really upset, and it made you feel bad.  “Or her.  She’s a bitch.”

You gasped, eyes wide.  “Steve!”

“What?  She is.”

You were shocked to hear him curse.  A few moments passed as you kept walking beside him, completely taken aback.  But then, you felt a grin tucking your lips upwards.  You stifled a giggle, and Steve turned to look at you in surprise.  You glanced up at him shyly, really giggling now.  His hard expression turned soft, a smile of his own creeping on his lips.  Eventually, he laughed too.

The two of you made it over to the swingset, and Steve let go of your hand.  You already missed his touch, the warmth of it.  He walked to stand in front of the tire swing, nodding his head at you to join.  You walked in front of the tire, reaching up to grip the chains from which it hung.  Steve crossed over to stand behind you.

“Here,” he said, placing his hands on your small hips.  You felt yourself flush, heart fluttering again.  A whole flock of butterflies swarmed your stomach.  Steve was happy you couldn’t see his face, because he felt himself flush too.  He wasn’t sure why a surge of electricity shot through him as he lifted you up into the tire swing, but as you swung your legs into its open middle he could smell your lavender shampoo.  It made him melt, and his hands lingered just a little longer than needed on the hips of your jeans.  You were safely seated now – had been for a moment.  Maybe two or three moments.  

Steve cleared his throat, rounding the wheel to climb onto it and sit across from you.  He tossed his feet into the hole, hands wrapped around the chains.  You looked at him with that signature warm, slightly shy smile of yours, and he returned it.  His smile was definitely more confident, though.  Charming, even for a first grader.

Your feet dangled in the air, so Steve used his to touch the ground and help you both begin to swing.  For a little while, you both just listened to the breeze.  The leaves were beginning to turn brown, a sign that autumn was approaching.  Kids laughed in the distance, buzzing with energy.  You figured you both only had a little time left, before you would have to return to classes.  But spending the last bit of playtime alone together was more fun than with the bratty kids you’d been spending time with earlier.

“Am I ugly?”

Steve had been watching a butterfly swarming nearby when you spoke.  He almost hadn’t heard you, with the way you spoke so quietly.  You sounded so small, fragile.  You were staring at the ground, your loafers criss-crossed as the two of you swayed on the swing, looking so vulnerable.  It made his heart split in two, the fire inside him burning again.  

“No,” he said, a little too harshly.  Your eyes shot up at him, a little surprised at his tone.  But he continued with no filter, cause what 7-year-old boy has one of those?  “Carol’s a liar.  You’re not ugly.  At all.  You’re beautiful.  Way more than her.”

Your eyes shone, and Steve watched your cheeks go rosy pink.  A small but real smile found its way onto your little lips, and you looked at him so sweetly before you glanced back down at the ground.  You kicked at the air, thinking to yourself.  While you weren’t looking, Steve memorized each eyelash concealing your grey eyes and the curve of your eyebrows.  He noticed that you only had a small sprinkle of freckles on your nose, but nowhere else on your porcelain skin.  He felt his heart skip a beat, losing himself in you.  God, you were perfect.  How could anyone ever call you ugly?  

“Wanna come over for dinner?” Steve asked.

You looked up at him, snapped out of your own thoughts.  “Yeah.  I’ll have to ask my mom and dad if that’s okay.”

“I think my mom is ordering pizza,” Steve continued, mouth watering.  “Do you like pizza?”

“Yeah, but I like mushroom pizza.”

Steve scrunched his nose.  “Eww, why?”

You giggled, shrugging.  “They’re really good!”

“Bleck.”

“You should try them,” you insisted.  

Steve would normally say something along the lines of hell no, but to you?  That was impossible.  He pursed his lips, nose still scrunched and shivering at the thought of eating fungus on pizza.  But he relented, sighing.

“Alright, I guess,” he said, kicking to swing you both again.  “But if I don’t like it, you have to help me with the dishes.”

You smirked.  “Deal.”

You both swayed, listening to the trees rustle.  Steve watched the teacher approaching everyone from her perch, knowing she was about to whistle for everyone to make their way back for school.

“Hey Steve?”

He turned back to look at you.  ‘Hmm?”

You paused, contemplating your words.  But then you gave him the kindest smile in the world, and it rendered Steve speechless as you spoke with more certainty than you had all day.

“You’re my best friend, too.”

__________

As the next few years went by, you and Steve continued to become a permanent part of them for each other.  

Your parents had easily become friends with his parents, making it a regular thing to have each other over for holiday parties and gatherings, or even just casual dinners.  Both your parents and his were too wealthy for their own good, too caught up in their own worlds to really pay either of you any mind.  Sure, they knew that the two of you were friends.  Close even.  But they didn’t really know much beyond that.  Steve’s parents were just glad to know that their kid had something to do other than bother them every day after school and on weekends, and your parents were so used to you playing by yourself that they didn’t really notice much difference.  Your families both lived in a swanky neighborhood, so becoming acquainted with one another hadn’t been something that required much consideration on their part.  They ran in the same circles.  Timeshare mutuals, and plastic veneer smiles who shared travel itineraries for whatever bougie seminar was happening that month, or the next.

Until you came along, Steve had been a lonely kid destined for a life of abandonment.  Once Chet Harrington had been given a son by Paula, he stopped the bloodline there.  “Good,” he’d remarked.  “Someone to carry on the family name.”  As far as he was concerned, that’s all his kid’s purpose served.  Take over the family business, get a trophy wife and repeat the cycle.  Siblings?  Why bother?  One kid was enough to handle.  They cost money and time, and the Harringtons didn’t just hand those out like charity.  If it weren’t so heavily frowned upon, or a threat to their reputation, they wouldn’t have even bothered with hiring a babysitter.  It was mainly Paula Harrington who insisted on it.  After all, she did love her son.  She just wasn’t a nurturing mother, giving her care to her pearls and pristine walk-in closet maintenance far more than her little boy, so her love was never felt by her son.  As far as Chet was concerned, once Steve turned 10 years old, a babysitter was no longer a needed expense.  Because that’s all it was to him: an expense.  So come the double digits, and Steve would just be a kid left to fend for himself, all alone in his great big house with no parents.

But so were you.  You, Nicole St. James, were just as doomed as he was.  Your parents were more aloof than anything.  They weren’t quite as cold as the Harrington’s.  But they weren’t all that warm either.  Ken had impregnated his wife, Alison, on a spontaneous trip overseas.  You’d been the result of a heavy night of gin, blue curacao and dirty talk.  Filthy sex and silky sheets in a Five Seasons were the blissful combination the night that you were conceived.  It had been a surprise for both of them, when that little strip read positive with a pink stripe.  They’d made a fuss of it, planning a frivolous baby shower with tons of guests and a plethora of gifts for their baby girl on the way.  They had found out the gender as soon as they could, not wanting any more surprises.  Your arrival had been a very anticipated event, so when you had been actually brought into the world the excitement fizzled away.  It seemed more exciting to celebrate having you, rather than actually having you.  Granted, your parents loved you.  You were spoiled with toys, new clothes every week, and social outings.  Not that you ever asked for any of those things.  The only thing you ever sought out from them were hugs, which they half-heartedly returned with barely a fraction of the love that radiated through your tiny arms.  

You had your mother’s hair, though hers was more auburn while yours was pure fire.  And you had your father’s grey eyes.  But what you had that they didn’t, was your spirit.  They were boisterous, loud and shallow.  You were quiet, shy and soft.  You radiated only genuine kindness, oftentimes just observing your surroundings and being in your own little world.  Your parents were party animals, constantly busying themselves with events and planning vacations.  It’s why they busied you with the same types of things by default, assuming you to be just like them.  Constantly wanting company, people to distract you and noise to drown out the silence.  But you weren’t like them.  You loved the silence, the chirping of the birds and the whoosh of the breeze.  You loved books instead of toys, and gardening tools instead of dolls.  Not that they paid attention to that, though.  Instead, they just bought you whatever the flashiest new item was.  Or, if you just so happened to take a liking to something, the St. James’ bought it to appease you quickly and not bat an eye.  Screw sentimentality, if it made you happy then by all means you could have it.

The only reason they had a treehouse built for you, was because Ken St. James had discovered his daughter’s makeshift fort outside.  It consisted of amateruly constructed cardboard boxes, with random blankets propped up on sticks.  He and Alison had just gotten home from a business trip, and your aunt had shrugged her shoulders when they asked how her stay had been.  She told them you had spent the whole time outside, playing in your disastrously built utopia.  Your parents didn’t give much thought to it, hiring a few carpenters to come and build you a proper treehouse for your sixth birthday.  You had beamed, telling them thank you a thousand and one times.  They’d thought it was cute, at first.  Until one night, as they got ready for a gala, you had gone to hug your mother as she coated her lips with a red rouge.  She’d yelped, surprised at your sudden touch.   

“I love you, mommy,” you whispered to her.  

“Nicole, darling, what are you–” she stammered, one hand holding her lipstick and the other swatting at you.

“For my treehouse,” you continued.  “I love it.”

“Oh, psh, honey,” she scoffed wryly, slowly peeling your little arms off of her shoulders.  “Enough now, you’ve thanked us too many times to count.  It’s a little exhausting.”

She had chuckled humorlessly, resuming her pampering.  You had watched her reflection, and if she’d cared to look at yours instead of her own she would have seen the look of longing and saddened wonder that filled your eyes.  She would have seen the way your full lips parted, no more words being spoken.  And she would have seen you quietly pad your way back out her bedroom door, where you made your way back to your room.  

Instead of finding love through your parents, you found it in your treehouse.  You found it in the swaying of the trees, and the butterflies that swarmed your front yard.  You found it in yellow crayons, and glitter gel pens, and the weeds you insisted were flowers as you pulled them and placed them into little pots.  You found love in the changing of seasons, and the twinkle lights that glowed at night in your safe haven.  You found love within yourself, and you found love in Steve Harrington.

The bike rides down the neighborhood streets, and down to the convenient store to buy snacks with your little weekly allowances.  The swapping of ice cream cones on hot summer days — when Steve noticed the way you eyed his chocolate waffle cone, as he secretly wanted your strawberry sugar cone instead.  The afternoons into nights spent in your treehouse together, playing make believe and coloring.  The fairy wands and pirate swords, and the battle of neverland that you fought side by side in your tulle dress while Steve wore a green polo and birthday hat with a red feather crudely taped to the side of it.  The field trips and summer camps with your classmates, always sitting beside each other on the bus and whenever you all had to eat in between activities.  Lord knows, if you two were sat apart, one of you would complain until it was made right.  The innocent secrets you told each other, and the way you both laughed at the silliest of things until your sides split.  The countless hours that you spent at his house, no parents or nanny in sight, playing hide and seek.  One time, it took him so long to find you that he panicked.  He was pretty sure you had actually disappeared for good, and his breathing quickened.  It took him calling out your name several times, until eventually it sounded like he was blubbering.  You had made your way out of his closet, where you’d proudly buried yourself underneath all of his clothes.  Steve saw you crawling out with a worried look on your little face, saying his name in such an assuring tone.  He had run over to you and hugged you tight, sniffling.  But when he pulled back, he’d already roughly rubbed his eyes so that no tears spilled.  The two of you resumed playing like nothing had happened.  

Most days were spent in your treehouse, except when a thunderstorm was coming.  That’s when the two of you would throw a bunch of blankets and pillows together in his or your room, making a fort.  A shelter, if you will.  The thunder rolled as the lightning streaked across the sky.  One night, you had both curled up with a big bowl of popcorn, boxes of cereal, pop tarts, sodas and candy, no trace of actual substance in sight.  You had flashlights and cards, playing Go Fish and War.  At some point, Steve had asked if you believed in ghosts.  You shuddered, nodding your head yes.  His eyes had gone wide, clutching the blanket tighter around his shoulders.  You pulled the pillow in your arms closer to your chest, your grey eyes just as wide as his.

“Do you think…” Steve had started, his voice soft.  He gulped, a thought crossing his mind.  “D’you think we’ll ever have to fight monsters?  You know, like aliens or something?”

You gulped, too.  “I dunno,” you started, voice soft like his.  “I think that monsters in books and movies are really scary.  I don’t wanna fight them in real life.”

Steve nodded, thinking.  “Well, if we ever do… I’ll protect you.  Promise.”

You hugged your pillow tighter, your worried eyes shining and a shy smile meeting your lips.  “You will?”

“Yeah,” Steve assured you, with absolute certainty.  Because he meant it with all of his heart.  No monster would ever hurt you.  No ghost would haunt you.  And nothing would ever take you away.  “I always will.”

CRACK.  That’s when lightning struck the electricity box, and all the power in Steve’s house went out.  You screamed, and Steve gasped.  He grabbed one of the flashlights, shuffling his way over to you.  He wrapped the blanket around both of you, as the two of you huddled closer together underneath the pillow fort you both built together.

“S’okay, I’m right here,” he soothed you, feeling you shiver against him.  Your little arms were wound around his torso, your grip fierce.  He clung to him with so much trust, melting into him, even though you were scared.  He melted right back into you, holding you close.  “I got you.”

The winds howled outside, thunder still rolling and lightning flashing around you both in the quiet, still room outside of the walls of blankets enveloping you both.  

“Do you think there’s a monster out there?” you asked him, your frightened voice the cutest whisper in the world.

“Nah,” Steve said, but even he wasn’t so sure.  He couldn’t be scared, though.  He had to make you feel safe.  “But if there is, it won’t get you.  I won’t let it.”  He rested his chin on top of your head.  “Not ever.”

Even at nine years old, Steve knew he would never break a promise that he made you.  You did, too.

And right now, as you turned ten years old, you were surrounded by a bunch of faces.  Most of them, you didn’t really know.  Some were kids from school, and others were their parents.  Lots of random adults, buzzed with champagne and spirits.  But as you sat in a chair behind your pink birthday cake, all aglow with ten gold candles, there was one face you recognized and loved.  Steve’s.

He grinned at you, his smile growing more charming each day.  His hair was still iconic, always styled just right.  He wore a preppy polo with a collar, and khaki slacks with nice shoes.  His brown doe eyes shone in the candlelight – and even though the others spoke loudly over each other, he spoke so that only you could hear him.

“Make a wish, Nic,” he said, seated right next to you.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BABY GIRL!” your mom squealed, the inebriation evident in her voice.

“Wait, honey, wait,” your father chuckled, gripping his whisky.  “We gotta sing first.”

“Damn,” Mr. Harrington remarked, also laughing.  “These women just don’t have any patience, do they?”

The two men snickered, and Mrs. Harrington playfully scoffed and swatted at them before wrapping an arm around your mother.  She, too, was a bit tipsy.  

“Alright,” she purred, a smirk on her lips as she raised her glass.  “All together now.”

And so the song began.  Happy Birthday rang all throughout the house, echoing off the dining room walls of your childhood home.  Kids sang with enthusiasm, while adults sang in a million different pitches.  Some voices were happy, others were bored, and a few were drunk.  But the only voice you listened to was your best friend’s, who sat by your side with one arm resting on the table and the other perched on the back of your chair.  You beamed at him, and he beamed at you.

Steve swore in that very moment, that you were perfect.  The way your little baby hairs still escaped your hair that was pulled into a little half-up do.  You were wearing the simplest, most feminine pastel yellow dress.  The sleeves had tiny ruffles on it, your shoulders peeking out and arms bare.  Your face was clean of any makeup, aside from the white face painted butterfly wings around your grey eyes.  It was so whimsical, making you look even more like a princess than you already were.  Steve watched you look around the room, enchanted by your enchantment.  And as your gaze circled back to meet his own, he smiled bigger.  Your smile grew, too, and the crowd of people in the room ceased to exist.  You’d both forgotten them, until they started to cheer wildly as your birthday song ended.

“Nicky!” your mother squealed.  

God, you hated when she called you that.  You broke your gaze from Steve, looking at her.

“Come on, baby, make a wish!”

You looked back down at your candles, scrunching your eyes shut and thinking.  Steve’s eyes never left you, entranced with the way you looked in the orange glow of the birthday candles.  Selfishly, he made a wish too.  It wasn't his birthday, but it didn’t have to be.  Steve wished for all your wishes and dreams to come true.  He wished for this to be the best year yet, for you and for him.  He wished for you to never move away, to always be his best friend across the road.  He wished for you to never outgrow him, or want to be better friends with somebody else.  He wished it would always be like this, that no matter what changes came he would always have you.  He wished that he knew what you were wishing for, and he wished for you to be wishing for him.

Little did he know, he was your only wish.  It was already true, and as you blew out the candles, you wished for it to always be true.

________________

Steve was twelve when you saw him cry for the first time.

His parents had gotten his report card, appalled at the C and D despite all other A’s.  Paula Harrington was disappointed and embarrassed, but Chet Harrington?  Well, he was furious.  

“I didn’t raise someone stupid,” he spat at Steve, who leaned against the kitchen counter with his head down, shoulders slumped and arms crossed.  They had been arguing over this for at least thirty minutes.

Steve swallowed.  “I’m not stupid, dad,” he murmered, voice defeated.

“Sorry, what was that?” his father egged him on, voice bitter.  There was zero trace of kindness or understanding, and Steve’s mother could only watch them from the dining table with a pathetic pout.

Chet stepped closer to his son, sneering.  “Speak up, son.  Couldn’t hear you.”

“...said I’m not stupid,” Steve tried again, hating the way his voice still shook despite talking a little louder.

“Stop being a little bitch and look at me,” his dad spat, the air escaping his lips and onto Steve’s face.

“Chet, please –” his mother tried, pathetically. 

Steve felt the hurt inside of him bubbling into anger, unable to control himself.  

“I said I’m not stupid!”  He shouted back, having taken enough of his father’s bullying for the past thirty minutes.  The past month.  Several months.  Years.

But he was only rewarded with a slap to the face, so sharp it felt like a knife.  If it weren’t for the ringing in his ears, he would have heard his mother gasp.  The impact had made him turn a full 180 degrees, and he was stunned into silence as tears sprang to his eyes from the harsh blow.  Slowly, he turned back towards them.  He first made eye contact with his mother, whose hands were clasped over her mouth.  Eventually, he made eye contact with his father, who seethed and showed no sign of remorse.

“Your report card says otherwise,” he slithered.  He slowly backed up towards the kitchen table, taking his seat again.  He took a sip of his brandy, clicking his tongue at the taste.  “Raise your voice at me again, and you’ll see stars next time.”

Steve could hear his own breathing, could feel the anguish that spread throughout his mind, body and soul.  His heart ached, and he longed for comfort.  But the two people who sat in front of him wouldn’t offer him that.  Nobody would.

Except you.

So he bolted his stairs, seeking privacy so that the unshed tears threatening to spill over wouldn’t show his weakness any further.  He held them at bay, biting his lip so hard he was pretty sure it would bleed soon.  He ran into his room, throwing open his drawers as he breathed hard.  Adrenaline coursed through his veins, his only thoughts consisting of getting a change of clothes and heading over to you.  He threw a backpack over his shoulder, locking his bedroom door and sneaking out his window.

He knew the route all too well by now, having done it since he was six.  He crawled down the side of the house, walking towards the house next to his and the one after that.  Then, he made his way across the street, where he walked behind one house, then two, and then made it to yours.  This way, his parents wouldn’t see him heading to your house out their window.  

Once he was there, he climbed up the side of your home where your window was dimly lit by the glow of your bedside lamp.  Good, he thought.  You were home.  His heavy heart swelled with relief, and he mounted the side of the house and up onto the roof the way he always did when sneaking into your room at night.

Your window was cracked open, always ready for him.  The curtains were drawn, and he saw you sitting on your bed, reading a book.  Your brows were closely knitted together, your eyes intensely focused on whatever you were reading.  One leg was crossed over the other, glasses perched on your nose and hair tucked back into a messy topknot.  

Steve swallowed back the large lump in his throat and tapped the windowpane, just enough for you to hear him.  Your head snapped up, pulled out of your bookworm trance.  Grey eyes met brown, and you went to smile until you saw the distress in his features.  You set your book down and removed your glasses, padding over to him, quietly but quickly.  A large t-shirt hung to your thighs, landing just above your knees and accentuating your slim legs.  You pulled the window all the way open, looking at him with the most concerned expression.

“Steve?” you asked, voice gentle.

The dam broke.  Steve couldn’t hold it in any longer, any plans of trying to do so completely demolished as a choked sob left his lips.  His shoulders heaved forward, and you felt your heart break at the sight.  This was new.  This was very new.  You’d never seen him like this.

Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around him tightly.  He gripped you back like a lifeline, crying into your shoulder.  You stayed there for a moment, before pulling back to bring him inside.  He clung to you, not wanting to let go, but when he realized that he was still in the window frame he allowed you to move away from him and followed you inside to stand behind you.  You quickly closed the window, turning to face him again.  

He was a good several inches taller than you, so you looked up at him.  Your expression was so soft, so full of empathy it only made him break down more.  You wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek to his chest.  He buried his face into your shoulder again, weeping until the sleeve of your shirt was soaked through.  He shook in your embrace, the sound of his cries the saddest sound you had ever heard.  You stroked the nape of his neck, fingers playing with his hair.  His arms around you were so tightly wound, you thought he might never let go.  And you didn’t want him to, so neither of you made a move to do so.  You just stood there, holding one another, letting Steve cry until he couldn’t any more.

After a while, you slowly pulled back to look up at him.  Steve’s brown eyes were bloodshot, his stylish hair ruffled and messy – yet somehow, still perfect.  Even when he was sad, he was still so pretty.  

He rubbed at his snot sodden nose with his elbow, fruitlessly trying to wipe it away.  He sniffed roughly, not used to being the one who needed comforting.  But as you reached up to thumb away a few of his tears, he didn’t pull away.  Anyone else, he wouldn’t have let seen him like this, let alone touch him.  But you were the exception to every rule, and he wouldn’t dare pull away from you.  Not when you were so understanding, not casting any judgment towards him.  Any walls he had built around himself in front of others, he let come down in front of you.  Because when he was with you, he didn’t have to be strong, or brave, or cool.  He could just be Steve, a boy with big hair and an even bigger heart.

You smiled at him gently, waiting for him to speak.  He sighed.

“My dad said I was stupid,” he started, voice shaky.  “He said I – he said…”

Your small smile faded, your eyes boring into his.  He looked shown, shuddering a breath.  You took his hands in yours, guiding him to the bed.  You both sat down, your hands still intertwined.  You sat facing him, your legs crossed in Indian-style.  He mirrored you, matching your position and staring down at your dainty fingers in his.  You wore a few rings, minimal sterling silver bands.  Steve always loved how they made your piano fingers look even longer, delicate.  He twiddled in thumbs around yours, absentmindedly tracing shapes as he spoke.

“They saw my report card,” he continued, sniffling.  “I got a C in math.  And a D, i-in science.”

You furrowed your brows, still listening.  You wanted to say so much already, but you will yourself to stay quiet and let him finish.  He needed to let it out.

“It didn’t matter about the other grades.  Dad, h-he just cared about the bad ones.  Like no matter what, I’m j-just a failure.”

You shook your head, not having any of it.  “Steve,” you started, voice firm but kind.  “You’re not stupid.  And you’re not a failure.  You’re smart, and you study just as hard as anyone else does.”

He sniffled again, eyes still downcast.  “Doesn’t matter,” he mumbled.  “S’not enough.”

“You’re enough.”

That made him look up at you, his sad glassy eyes meeting your fierce ones.  The love that poured from your grey irises shot straight into his brown ones, and he knew you were being as honest as they come.

“He hit me, Nic,” he murmured, tasting bile as he admitted it. 

You felt a wave of emotions hit you all at once.  Anger.  Heartbreak.  Anguish.  Rage.  Pain.  And love.  So, so much love for this beautiful boy, who you got to call your best friend.  The thought of his dad hitting him – anyone hitting him – made you see red.  He didn’t deserve this.  Any of this.  And as you noted a slightly red mark on his cheek, you felt your soul split open.  Tears of your own sprang to your eyes, and you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching a hand up to cup his cheek.

“Steve, I’m so sorry,” you whispered.  

His face crumpled, and you pulled him in close as he started to cry again.  You silently cried too, grateful that he couldn’t see you.  He kept one hand in yours still, resting on your laps.  The other wound around your waist, the hand you had placed on his cheek now draped around his neck.  You lightly swayed, allowing the silence and Steve’s breathy cries to wash over you both.  

Eventually, Steve’s tense shoulders sagged and his cries subdued.  He relaxed into you, and you could tell that sleep was finding him.

“Hey,” you murmured into his neck.  “Let’s get some sleep.”

Steve slowly pulled back, watching you pull the covers down.  Normally, it would be weird.  A boy, watching his female friend offer to sleep in the same bed without their parents knowing.  But you’d both fallen asleep together so many times over the years.  In your treehouse, on his bedroom floor, on the couch while watching a movie.  Even in the same bed, when studying or doing homework. Now was no different, as far as you both were concerned.

So as you nestled yourself underneath the covers, gesturing for him to follow, Steve didn’t hesitate to crawl in next to you.  He pulled the covers over the two of you as you turned out your light, only the moonlight illuminating your face in the dark room.  You both laid on your sides, facing each other.  You placed a hand on the mattress, in the small space between you both, palm up. He placed his hand on top of yours, wrapping his fingers around yours.  He sighed deeply, eyes fluttering shut.

“You can stay here anytime you want,” you whispered beside him, your eyelids drooping but still watching him.  

Steve squeezed your hand tightly.  He felt an overwhelming sense of relief, his heart swelling with love for you.  He peeled his eyes back open, taking in your beautiful face.  If there was an angel watching over him, it had to be you.  God couldn’t have possibly given him a better one, because you were it.

“I don’t wanna go back,” he whispered back, timid.  “Unless you’re there.”

You sighed, nuzzling into your pillow with a little nod.  “Okay, then you won’t.”

Both your voices were tired, but the words you shared with one another held so much truth and conviction. Because you meant what you had said. Steve never had to spend a single night alone in his great big house, whether or not his parents were there.  You stayed there, or he’d stay with you.  It became an unspoken routine, refuge.

No matter what pain life threw his way, or yours, you both knew that so long as you had each other, it would be okay.

____________

But one morning, several months later, Steve’s mom found you in his bed.  

The two of you were sound asleep, her son starfished across the mattress and you curled up into a little ball.  At first, Mrs. Harrington just froze.  How long had this been happening?  That’s the question that sprang her into action.  Her motherly instincts decided to actually make an appearance, storming over to the bed to jostle you awake.  

“Nicole St. James, what in blazes are you doing here?!”

Your eyes shot open, finding Mrs. Harrington’s frantic eyes.  She had a firm grip on your arm, and you shrunk deeper into the mattress.  

“Steven,” she said through gritted teeth.  “Wake up.”

Steve stirred, not really waking up.  Such a boy.  A tornado can’t wake boys when they’re not even thirteen yet.

You, on the other hand, were wide awake.  Groggy, but alert.  You felt your cheeks flush crimson, knowing this looked bad.  Sure, at twelve years old you’re not fully aware of just how bad this actually looked.  But a boy and a girl, sharing a bed, behind their parents’ backs?  That had trouble written all over it.  As far as any adult was concerned, that screamed bad news.  And nine times out of ten, it was often a result of youthful scandal.  

But for you and Steve?  It was simply comfort.  Safety.  Codependency.

That’s not how his mother saw it, though.

“Steven!”

He bolted awake, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes.  When he looked over to find you staring at him, your grey eyes terrified and lean arm in his mother’s manicured grip, he began to come to.  The reality set in, and Steve felt his chest clench.  You both had been caught.

His mother’s eyes held a fire that he had never seen before.  Even in all her beauty – loosely curled blonde hair, wispy bangs and silky white blouse to match her high waist trousers – she looked intimidating.  Steve realized at that moment, he had never truly felt intimidated by his mother until right now.  She looked absolutely furious, appalled even.  Her lips were pursed together into a tight, thin line, and by the looks of her clenched jaw he could tell she had gritted her teeth.

Steve swallowed, feeling the panic seep in.  “Wait, mom –”

“Not a word,” she cut him off.  “I didn’t raise you like this.”

You didn’t raise him at all, you thought to yourself.  If it weren’t for the fear you held, you would have had to really fight to stay quiet.  But as Mrs. Harrington kept going, you couldn’t have found your own voice if you tried.

“Bringing girls up to your room to sleep with them?  What filthy movies have you been watching?  Did you… Oh my god, did you find one of your father’s?!”

Steve’s eyes went wide with horror.  “What?!  No!  Mom, please –”

“I don’t know what vile things you’ve had put in your head, Steven.  By your friends, your father, porn or whatever the hell you kids are doing these days.  But this.  Ends.  Now.”

Your terror-stricken eyes expression became all the more terrified, and as Steve’s mother wrenched you off the bed you let out the most heartbreaking little yelp.  Steve felt his heart jump into his throat.

“MOM, PLEASE, DON’T –”

“And you,” she turned to face you, dragging you beside her out of his bedroom.  “You’re a young lady.  You should know better.”

You felt absolutely sick to your stomach.  Hearing Steve’s mom accuse you of being capable of doing something so grimey – of being a slut – made you feel so small.  And Steve’s panicked shouts weren’t helping.

“But I–I,” you stuttered, your voice so shaky and low it was almost inaudible.  How could she think you and Steve would do such a thing together?  It wasn’t like that.  He was your best friend.  Your safe haven.  Your favorite person in existence.

Mrs. Harrington slammed Steve’s bedroom door shut, trapping his shouts.  She was dragging you down the stairs as you heard him fling the door back open and barrel after you.  She whipped around, waving a finger up at him.

“You stay right there,” she ordered him, voice fierce and booming.  Then, as she kept going, she told you, “I’m taking you straight home to talk to your parents.  This friendship is over.”

The way that Steve wailed ‘no,’ had to have been the most excruciatingly painful sound you had ever heard.  Tears sprang to your own eyes, and you didn’t even try to conceal the whimpers that fell from your lips.  Mrs. Harrington couldn’t have cared less, ripping her car keys off the wall next to the front door.

“Mom, wait, just wait!” Steve’s voice was strained, but desperate.  

You tried to look back at him, only catching glimpses as you were being hauled away by his mother.  You could see the petrified anguish etching Steve’s features, his tired eyes practically popping out of their sockets.  His hair in complete disarray, his sweatpants hung low and his t-shirt all twisted.  He was the most beautiful mess, and you were being taken away from him.

“Not another step, Steven Harrington!” his mother barked, voice shrill.  

Steve came to an abrupt halt on the sidewalk, and even though he was a good distance away now you could see his shoulders shaking and bottom lip trembling.  Your heart thudded in your chest, and you felt like throwing up.  

Paula Harrington was now standing next to her car, opening the passenger side door.  No way in hell was she going to march you over to your house, directly across the street, just so that all of your neighbors could watch and stare from inside their respective homes.  She ushered you in quickly, giving you no choice but to obey.  You crawled into the front seat, pulling your knees to your chest, crying into them.  You felt so ashamed and embarrassed – and for what?  Falling asleep next to your best friend?  Yeah, that’s exactly what you had done that caused this twisted guilt to stir up inside you.  

“I’m taking you straight home,” she told you, cold and fierce.  “And you’re not to step foot over here again.  Do you understand?”

You bit into your knees, clenching your eyes shut in shame.    Mrs. Harrington slammed the door shut, making you jump.  The sound, along with her words, rang in your ears.

This friendship is over.

Your mind was reeling, stomach churning.  You clutched your legs, tugging them impossibly closer to your chest and you rocked in the front seat of Paula’s car.  You looked out the window, watching Steve run towards you.  His mom held out a hand, and you could hear their entire conversation through the thin glass window as you sniffled.

“Mom, nothing happened,” Steven insisted, voice broken.

“You expect me to believe that?!” Mrs. Harrington shot back at him with zero sympathy.  “How many times has this happened, Steven?”

Steve raked his fingers through his chestnut hair, distressed and breathing hard.  “You don’t understand, we just fell asleep –”

“How many?”

“Whenever I can’t sleep!” Steve screamed at her, and his mother visibly pulled back.  “Because y-you –”  Steve gasped for air.  “D-dad, it’s just –”  Steve pressed his lips together, words failing him, so painfully frustrated with himself and this entire situation.  “God, it’s nothing, Mom.  Nic comes over here, and s-sometimes I go there –”

“You sleep at her house?” his mother interrupted, shocked.

“It doesn’t matter!” Steve cries.  His mother is now frozen, taken aback by the hysteria in his voice.  As her son stares back at her, tears threatening to spill over and lips parted, she finally shakes her head.

“You’re almost thirteen years old, Steven,” she says, voice low and bitter.  “You’re too damn old to be having little sleepovers with girls.  You know how this looks.  I know what you were doing.”

“No, you don’t,” Steve shook his head, violently.

“Yes.  I do.”

“NO, YOU DON’T.”  Steve wailed, completely falling apart.  “You don’t know anything.  And I don't care that you don’t, because Nicole knows and that’s all I care about.”

His mother gawked at him, and Nicole could tell that his words stung her a bit.  Still, Paula stood her ground.

“Well whatever you two are doing, it’s over,” she said, coolly.  

Steve’s face crumpled.  “No, please –”

“You’ve got plenty of guys you can hang out with, Steven,” Mrs. Harrington said, tongue sharp.  “They can sleep over whenever you want.  Go call them.”

Steve flung his arms up in the air, running his hands through his hair again as he whirled around in a full 360 before facing her again.

“I don’t care about them –”

“Start caring,” she said simply, turning to walk towards the car again.  She was approaching the driver’s side to open her door.

“Mom, no, NO!”  Steve lurched forward, trying to grab her car keys.  His mother jumped back, reacting just in time.  Her reflexes served her justice as she whipped the keys out of his reach.  

“What is the matter with you?!”  Paula looked absolutely stunned now.  

But Steve wouldn't listen, still trying to wrench the keys from her hands.  They rustled, arms and limbs tangled as they both struggled to overpower the other.  Paula stuttered verbal protests, while Steve whimpered and grunted.  You couldn’t help but feel your heart swell, despite how utterly broken you felt.  Because Steve wasn’t letting you slip away that easily – and while you were too timid to speak up for yourself, he wasn’t.  He was always the brave one.  At school.  Whenever you fell off your bike, or slipped on the playground.  Nobody could pick on you, so long as Steve was there.  Not even his parents could, apparently.  

Eventually, Mrs. Harrington got the upper hand.  No doubt due to the fact that Steve wouldn’t actually be physically aggressive towards his own mother.  She tugged hard, causing Steve to lose his footing and stumble back onto the ground.  He collapsed, landing on his side and barely catching himself.  Paula gasped, watching him make a harsh impact with the concrete sidewalk.

“Steve, baby –” she breathed, noting the bad scrape on his arm.

Steve began to convulse with ugly sobs, curling in on himself.  He gritted his teeth, lips stretched thin.  Mrs. Harrington stared in horror for only a moment before kneeling beside him to assess the damage.  She might not have been a warm person, but she wasn’t a violent one either.  That was all his father.  She didn’t believe in putting a hand on her kid.  She just didn’t do anything to stop it when Mr. Harrington did.

“Give me your arm,” she said, her voice shaking now.

“Please, mom, please,” Steve bawled, pulling away from her and cowering back.  Paula noted the way her son wouldn’t look at her now, and she hated it.  It reminded her of the way he was around his father.  And she was not his father.  She was hardly a mother, but more importantly she was not his father.  She swallowed hard, pride overcoming any deeply buried traces of warmth and love within her.

“Listen to me,” she tried again, voice still shaking.  “Give me your arm.”

But Steve just unabashedly wailed, now feebly sitting up.  Tears streamed down his cheeks, drops of blood forming on his freshly scraped arm.  The guttural cries escaping his lips were so agnonized, Paula couldn’t understand it.  She had never seen him like this.  He just kept murmuring unintelligible things that sounded like don’t, don’t, don’t, and please, no, and pathetically trying to get the keys from her.  His efforts were futile, but he wouldn’t back down.

“Steven,” she said, incredulously.  “Stop.”

“Mom, she’s the only friend I have.”  

Steve’s tortured words landed hard, on both you and Paula.  They hit you like a freight train, piercing your heart.  

Steve cried and cried, finally looking at his mother again as he admitted this treacherously painful confession in a wrecked voice.  Paula couldn’t believe it.  There was no way that Steve didn’t have friends.  She had seen him.  At his games, and social gatherings.  He got along with everybody.  She didn’t have to be at school with him to know he was popular.  All the girls had a crush on him, and all the guys wanted to be around him.  No way were you the only friend he had. No way was he as lonely as he was saying that he was.  He wasn’t, he just wasn’t… Was he?

But then Paula realized it wasn’t a matter of him not having friends.  It was only a matter of you.  You, his other limb since he was the age of six.  You, who spent every birthday and holiday with him.  You, who sat with him on the bus, and at lunch, and any party you both went to together or with your families.  You, who somehow seemed to be everywhere, in every memory.  She’d never really thought much of it, assuming it was just some childhood crush or next door neighbor that you would both eventually outgrow.  And when she had found you in his bed, naturally, she assumed the worst.  You and Steve were both in middle school.  This was prime time for puberty, and exploring sexuality.  It was the pre-high school danger zone.  No way around it.  But come to think of it, she’d never seen you act as anything other than friends.  Not that that mattered.  Friends liked each other, too.  It all had to start somewhere.

Paula glanced up at the passenger window of her car, spotting you.  You still had your knees to your chest, fresh tears of your own spilling down your cheeks.  She would never admit it, but the sight of you looking so hurt – thanks to her – made her heart ache.  She knew you were a good girl.  If anything, you were obnoxiously good.  Sometimes she wondered if you had a single mean bone in your body.  It was infuriating, really.

She turned back to her son, who was still weeping uncontrollably and waiting for her to respond.  That really drove the knife deeper into her heart, and she could feel herself cracking.  The brutal truth of it all was landing, the realization dawning on her.

You were Steve’s home.

Mr. and Mrs. Harrington would never be that for their son.  Nor would their great big house.  No social status, or money, or upper class school would give him refuge.  But you?  You did that.  Have been doing that for the past six years.  

Steve didn’t lack friends.  He lacked family.  And you were far closer to family than his actual family was.

Mrs. Harrington took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of her nose, keeping her emotions at bay.  She pushed her bangs out of her face, slowly rising to stand.  She closed her eyes briefly, mustering up whatever strength was left in her.  Then, she made her way towards you with a collected yet somber expression etching her feminine features.

All you could do was watch her, unable to breathe as you anxiously waited to see what she was about to do.  To your surprise, she reached for the handle…and opened your door.  You sat there, frozen in place.  Mrs. Harrington didn’t hurry you back out of her car, seeing how visibly afraid you were.  Instead, she just tilted her head slightly, and you knew that was your cue.  Newfound relief surged through you, and you felt the ice pick that was lodged in your chest finally melt.  Cautiously, you made your way out of the passenger’s seat, your bare feet touching the grass.  You looked up at her timidly, finding her expression to be blank.  

Then you turned to Steve.  Beautiful, sweet Steve.  He was still on the ground, his cries steadying.  When he saw you step out of the car, he stumbled to his feet, hiccuping.  You kept your head low, shoulders slumped as you made your way towards him.  You crashed into his chest, feeling the weight of the world lifted off your shoulders as Steve’s arms wrapped around you.

Steve’s entire world had ended just a few minutes ago, and now it had begun again.  The second you were back in his arms, everything was alright.  He still hiccupped and whimpered, but you did too.  You just held each other, crying softly.  

All Paula could do was watch.  Something about the way her son held you – so protectively and so full of love – made something inside her stir.  A sour taste filled her mouth, wanting to feel touched by it but too bitter at her own miserable reality to let it do so.  Because her son resonated more love than her husband ever could.  The way that Steve clung to you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he swayed you both side to side, was the truest form of love that Paula had ever seen.  Her friends had never held her like that, when she was a little girl.  Even all grown up, Chet had never held her like that.  Not even close.  Not even at their happiest, years ago.  Maybe she had assumed that their son would naturally be the same way.  

God, was she wrong.  Because as you fiddled your fingers in the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck, whispering how sorry you were, causing Steve to just shake his head against your shoulder and tell you not to be, Paula Harrington saw the epitome of true love shine through her son.  And, by extension, you. 

She hung her head, unable to look any more.  It upset her too much.  So she quietly made her way back inside, refusing to speak of this ever again.  Not with Steve, or with you.  Your parents would never know, and Chet Harrington would never know either.  

As Steve held you close to him, refusing to let you go, somehow you both knew that you would never have to worry about this again.  You weren’t going to be pulled apart, or stop being there for each other.  Because even if you had been driven away from him today, Steve would have persisted.  You would have done the same.  Tethered souls cannot be untethered.

Steve was twelve years old when he found that out.

___________

It was Steve’s fifteenth birthday when he kissed you for the very first time.

His parents were out at some party that night, having brought yours along too.  So the house was his for the night, until they drunkenly stumbled home.  All of his friends were elated.  Big house, no parents.  That’s the way Carol Perkins always puts it.  Steve Harrington’s house was the coolest on the block.  Huge pool with a deck.  Two stories, plus a man cave basement with a fully stocked mini bar that felt like an underground speakeasy.  And best of all, no parental supervision.  

Steve had become quite the hit, come freshman year.  He was captain on the swim team, and his body showed it.  His charm was as enticing as ever, winning every heart of every girl at school.  His boyishly handsome features blossomed day by day, growing cuter by the second.  His hair had become his statement piece, coining his nickname, Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.  He had it goin’ on, and everyone knew it.  Including you.

You, too, were a catch.  Your hair was longer, and you’d trimmed layers into your long red locks so that you had little side swept curtain bangs that all the girls wanted.  You were a cheerleader, but you really loved photography.  So you took that up, too.  You also had a great house for parties, which your mom was always too willing to host for you and your cheer squad girlfriends.  You never really planned those, so much as she did. And sure, you shared the same circle of friends as Steve.  But you still had that introverted loner streak in you, liking to do your own thing.  Steve was the social butterfly, his posse of admirers increasing more and more.  You were popular, given that you were the freshman heartthrob’s best friend.  ‘Steve’s girl.’  

Except you weren’t his girl, though.  Not really.  Yeah, you two were inseparable as ever.  That hasn’t changed.  But you weren’t technically his.  At least, not romantically…

“C’mon, big boy!  Chug the rest’a that beer so we can play some spin the bottle!”

Tommy H.  Somehow, that rowdy kid had gotten into your circle.  You weren’t really sure how.  He played basketball, but he was mostly on the bench.  His daddy was rich, too, but he was a drunk and a slob.  His step-mom was somewhere in her twenties, probably leaning more towards the younger end.  No one really knew much about his actual mom, but the mommy issues definitely showed.  Not that this had stopped Carol from being all over him.  Those two had their tongues down each other’s throats all the time, ever since she hit on him at one of the games.  They had snuck behind the bleachers to make out.  Probably more.  They bickered, sometimes being downright cruel to each other.  But it seemed to be their thing.

Oh yeah, and about Carol.  She was pretty much the same as she was in kindergarten.  Bratty.  Obnoxious.  Loud.  But when she had noticed you and Steve were still friends, and Tommy H. had made it clear to her that that wasn’t changing anytime soon, she’d retired her days of picking on you.  She pretty much had since that day at recess, but especially after seeing you were this untouchable princess in Steve’s world.  She didn’t get it, but she didn’t care to try.  She merely accepted it, and so you let it be.  You were stronger than you had been back then, having more of a voice.  But you were still a good girl at heart, soft spoken and a little too forgiving. 

“Oh Jesus,” Steve muttered, chuckling as he swiped at his perfect hair.  

Tommy H. has an arm slung around him, getting everyone to cheer him on.  You sat on the couch next to Stacy and Liz, your Paps Blue Ribbon in hand, grinning.  Chug, chug, chug, everyone chanted.  Soon enough, Steve’s bottle was empty and a circle was forming on the floor.  You settled on the ground across from him, shooting him a cute smirk.  He winked — and it didn’t matter how long you’d known him, it always made you blush.

“This seat taken?”

You looked up to find Christopher Cazaway standing above you, a soft smile on his lips.  You returned it, patting the empty space beside you.

“Be my guest.”

He obliged, not hesitating to take you up on the offer.  Christopher was a sophomore.  Blonde, handsome, 6’5” and a basketball superstar.  He was bound to get a scholarship somewhere great, no doubt in anyone's mind.  He was every coach’s dream, along with every girl at the school.  But as far as his personality goes, he wasn’t the jock type.  He was sort of a gentle giant, with a heartwarming smile and hearty laugh.  He could dribble and shoot hoops like no other, and he was drop dead handsome, but there wasn’t a vain bone in his body.  Christopher was surprisingly soft spoken, almost shy.  He was mature, sometimes seeming a little wise beyond his years.  He seemed to talk better with adults than teens in ways.  Still, everyone adored him.  He got invited to every party, hosting a few of his own but rarely.  

Secretly introverted kids like you noticed other like minded souls when you spotted them.  But little did you know, it was Christopher who had noticed you first.  Sure, he liked your vibrant red hair and ocean grey eyes.  Yeah, he noticed the lean build of your legs and slim curve of your neck and jawline.  Absolutely, he thought you were beautiful.  He liked the thin little rings you wore on your fingers, and he thought your laugh was adorable.  More than anything though, Christopher liked the way you carried and presented yourself.  He liked that you were so aware, observant.  You weren’t aloof, or like all the other girls that flung themselves at him.  You were real.  And he liked that.  A lot.  He kept liking more things about you, the more you both sat together in chemistry class or saw each other at basketball practice, since that’s where you had cheer meets.

“Man,” he said, crossing his legs.  “Haven’t played spin the bottle since middle school.”

You hummed a light chuckle, setting down your drink.  “Well if it makes you feel any better, I’ve never played period.”

He cocked an eyebrow, grinning at you.  “Is that right?”

You smiled sheepishly.  “I don’t get out much.”

He had to chuckle at that, knowing you were half kidding.  But he didn’t doubt that you’d never played before.  Not because you seemed awkward or uncomfortable, but because you weren’t like the other girls.  Or anyone here, for that matter.  You weren’t the typical snobby rich girl, from her snobby rich family.  You were different.

From across the room, Steve watched you two talk.  He found it interesting that Christopher and you talked with such ease, never having realized you two might be friends.  But Stacy and Liz chimed into your conversation eventually, and Tommy H. was back to hollering again.

“Everybody, shut up!” he shouted, silencing people for the most part.  He clapped his hands together, grinning like an idiot.  “Let’s fuck some lips.”

Girls made faces and sounds of disgust, while most of the dudes snickered in agreement.   You kept a straight face, not really phased by his antics.  Christopher found the kid gross, but knew he was just an ignorant freshman who thought he was hot shit.  So he didn’t really let it irk him much.  

“Wait,” Carol interjected, cracking open a peach schnapp.  “What if, like, a guy lands on a guy?”

Tommy H. snorted.  “Then you roll again.  No one’s gay up in here.  This isn’t a faggot party.”

Steve’s nose scrunched at that.  “Tommy, c’mon, man.  Don’t say that.”

You squirmed, adding softly, “that’s really not nice.”

“What?!  It’s true.”  Tommy H. took a swig of his beer, shrugging.

“Okay, then what about girls?” Carol pressed.  Her boyfriend smiled devilishly.

“Nah, that shit’s hot,” he sneered.  

“Ugh, that’s not fair!” Carol whined, but her grin contradicted her complaint.  You internally rolled your eyes.  Oh sweet misogyny, you thought to yourself.  The selective homophobia of an insecure male asshole was enough to make you wanna puke.

“Okay, can we just — play?” Someone interjected.

“Alright, alright,” Steve said, waving his hands.  He placed his empty beer bottle in the middle of the circle, looking up to wriggle his eyebrows at everyone.  “Who’s first?”

“You are, big guy,” Tommy H. said, clapping him in the back.  “Birthday boy always kicks us off.”

Some of the teens oooh’d and giggled, dramatically.  All the girls were just itching for it to be them that the bottle landed on, so that they could smooch the hot new heartthrob of Hawkins High.  Their very own small town Prince Charming.

Steve shrugged, reaching to give the bottle a spin.  

As you watched the bottle turn and turn, you couldn’t help but feel the anxious butterflies dance in your stomach.  You weren’t sure why you hoped it landed on you.  Then again, you were.  In fact, you totally were.  You’d loved Steve for as long as you could remember.  It was inevitable, given your history.  You knew he loved you, too.  It just probably wasn’t like that.  Still, you wondered if maybe he wanted the bottle to land on you too.

But it didn’t land on you.  It landed on Becky, who couldn’t help but gasp.  She looked absolutely ecstatic, giggling like a school girl.  Steve look at her with a grin and raised an eyebrow, somehow looking both shy and confident.

Oh shit.  Were you about to watch him kiss another girl?  You hadn’t had to see that before.  Sure, you knew he’d kissed another girl before.  A few, actually.  Steve’s first kiss had been Elsie Fitzgerald.  8th grade, behind the P.E. building.  You knew that, because Steve had told you first thing.  He’d nudged you in line at the cafeteria, telling you in a low voice as he plopped a milk carton on his tray.  And you’d listened, pretending that it didn’t make your heart break.  He was pretty happy about it, more so for himself than he was actually lit up about having kissed Elsie specifically.  She had passed him a note in class, asking to be his Valentine.  Your heart really sank after hearing that, wishing it had been you.  After that, Steve had a few kisses with girls under his belt — none of which were with you.

You were still waiting on your first kiss.  

And as that reminder floated around in your head, you watched Becky crawl across the floor to lean in and kiss your best friend on the lips.  He sat still, kissing her with ease.  You wondered what it felt like.  The touch of his lips, which you always thought looked so soft.  Becky lingered a little while, and eventually Steve pulled away with a charming smile.  She squealed, flitting back to her seat and flipping her hair.  The butterflies in your stomach felt blue, but you kept a light smile on your face to mask it. 

Now, Tommy spun the bottle. One by one, teens kissed.  Some girls even kissed, making you flush.  You watched Steve kiss a couple other girls, all of them doing a horrible job at concealing their giggling fits.  At some point, it was your turn to spin — and it landed right between Steve and Tommy H. 

Now you really felt butterflies in your stomach. Their dance was a little angry this time, though.  Your anxiety spiked, dreading the thought of kissing Tommy but nerves wrecked as you thought about getting to kiss Steve.

Your eyes glanced up at your best friend by default, finding that he was already looking back at you shyly.  Tommy barked a laugh, clapping his hands.

“Look, I don’t wanna make any calls here,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender.  “But uhhh, I’ll let the birthday boy take this one.  As much as I’d love to rock your world, princess.”

Your eyes narrowed at him.  “That’s one way to put it.”

“C’mon, birthday boy,” Carol snickered.  “Kiss your best friend.”

Steve felt himself blush, hoping he didn’t look as nervous as he felt.  God, he had wondered what it felt like to kiss you for so long without even realizing that he had until this very moment.  The way you were looking at him right now, looking so calm and content, he never would have known that you were so completely in love with him.  He was pretty sure that he was a party of one, in that department.  

Tommy kept making gross kissy noises.  Steve cleared his throat, feigning lighthearted cockiness as he looked wryly at Tommy.  

“Knock it off, man,” he mumbled, turning back to face you.  

You watched him eye you with curiosity, as if he was silently asking you if this was okay.  But you just smiled warmly, welcoming the contact.  So Steve got on his knees and crawled over to you, meeting you halfway.  As he got closer to you, he could see those tiny sun kissed freckles that lightly dusted your nose, and the smooth surface of your porcelain cheek.  He could see the light whisk of mascara on your eyelashes, and the very neutral shade of lipstick on your full lips.  He felt himself swallow, his usual bravado failing him.  You looked so gentle, sweet as ever.  He wondered if your tongue tasted as sweet as you were…

You sat back on your knees and heels, hands placed in your lap as you looked at him, patient and a little sheepish.  Steve was so close to you now, basking in the scent of your soft perfume.  It smelled like the ocean, with faint traces of coconut and vanilla.  He wanted to kiss you.  He really did.  

“Oh my god, kiss already!” Carol screeched.  

But neither of you flinched, even as the others echoed their sentiments.  You breathed a tiny laugh, making Steve grin.  Without thinking, he found himself placing a hand to the curve of your jaw.  Oh.  He hasn’t done that with the other girls.  His breath lightly hitched at the contact, realizing he’d never actually been this close to you.  Which made no sense, given you’d fallen asleep in the same bed for how many years now?  But this was different.  This type of intimacy wasn’t the same.

You subtly leaned into his touch, eyes never leaving his.  His thumb stroked your cheek, the corner of his lip tugging upwards.  Your noses touched, the sharp tip of his against the little perky end of yours.  His breath was warm against your skin, feeling like a blanket wrapping itself around your face.  You both kept leaning in, slowly.  Ever so slowly.

Finally, his bottom lip grazed yours.  And those butterflies in your stomach were doing a full blown ballet now.  Steve felt his heart skip a beat.  Maybe several beats.  

Damn, he thought.  Since when did kissing feel like this?

It was the way your lips moved against his, so graceful and supple.  The way your fair skin felt like satin beneath his finger tips.  Steve felt a rush of euphoria overcome him, reveling in the feeling of your mouth against his.  Becky didn’t kiss like that.  Elsie didn’t, or any of the other girls.  People always said that kissing is an art.  Steve did have a reputation for being a good kisser, even at just fifteen years old.  He just didn’t really think much of it until he was enchanted by your kiss.  

Part of him thought that there was no way you hadn’t kissed somebody before.  Not with how incredible you felt brushing your lips with his.  Then again — maybe it was because you had never been kissed before that it was so magical.  That innocent bliss of being ‘untouched,’ not yet tainted by anyone or anything.

Meanwhile, you reveled in the rhapsody of Steve’s kiss.  It was everything you ever could have dreamed it would be, and more.  His lips were soft, cloud-like to the touch.  He was gentle in the ways you thought he might be rough, and tame in the ways you thought might be wild.  He didn’t rush anything, taking his time with even the most microscopic of movements.  The light yet firm grasp of his hand on your jaw was slightly edging down towards your neck, and it was all you could do not to hum with lovesick satisfaction.

Yeah, no, everyone thought.  He definitely hadn’t been this tender when kissing the other girls here.

It made those other girls watch you with envy, guys cocking an eyebrow and making immature, snide remarks under their breath.  It was so obvious, the magnetic pull between the two of you.  Anyone could see it.  Even the two of you did, but neither of you would ever admit that.  At least not anytime soon.

And as the kiss ended all too soon — well, too soon for you guys, not necessarily the others — Steve’s pillow soft lips parted from yours as he ever so slightly pulled back to look at you.  Your angelic face was still just an inch or so away from his, your eyelashes fluttering open to reveal your grey irises, exposing a new tint of lovesick blue.  They sparkled, dancing as you looked into his brown eyes that now looked more like the color honey.  You bit your lip, a timid smile finding your freshly kissed pout.  

God, Steve thought.  He would've kissed you again, right then and there.

But as Tommy H. hooted and hollered, snapping your two out of your gaze, reality sunk in again.  This was a party, and it was just a game.  It wasn’t a real kiss.  It was prompted by a bottle and reckless youth.  Nothing more.

Right?

“Well alrighty then, lovebirds,” some guy chided with a dark laugh.

You blushed, casting your eyes downwards.  You composed yourself, watching Steve do the same.  Yep, it was just a dream.

“Yeah, since when did this become a love making session?” Tommy H. jested.

Steve shot Tommy a scowl, before watching you scooch back to where you’d been sitting.  You gave him a shy smile, twiddling your thumbs in your lap.  Steve quickly scooted back to his place too, across from you in the circle.  He smiled back at you softly, before Tommy gave him a macho shove.  Steve shoved him back, but with half the strength.  He was still snapping out of it.  Soon, he cleared his throat, forcing his mental fantasies to the back of his brain again.

“Alright, next up,” Steve said, straightening his hair.  Fuck, did anyone else see how nervous he felt?  Apparently not, because everyone seemed to resume the game like nothing had ever happened.

Christopher clicked his tongue and slapped his hands on his knees.  “Welp,” he said, leaning forward.  “Guess it’s me.”

He gave the bottle a good spin.  

Lo and behold, it landed on you.

“Oh shit!” Tommy H. exclaimed, rolling over into a ridiculously unnecessary fit of laughter.  

Carol made obnoxiously loud remarks, too, along with lots of people in the circle.

Yeah.  Oh shit, indeed.

“Aww, little princess is getting all the kisses tonight,” she cooed condescendingly, her high pitched voice so fake and sugary sweet.

You felt your cheeks flush again, allowing yourself to tinker a laugh.  You turned to face Christopher, finding him rubbing his neck with a bashful smile on his face.  He looked at you with slightly timid eyes, chuckling nervously.  He was nervous?  Why would he be nervous, you wondered?

Oddly, you felt very at ease about the situation.  It was just Christopher.  He was always kind to you, and a good friend since you started high school.  If you’d had to kiss anybody else in the circle, you would prefer it be him than some guy you hardly knew.  And you certainly hoped it wouldn’t land on Tommy. 

You shrugged your shoulders, giving him a little grin.  He grinned back, brightly.  The corners of his eyes crinkled, and it was adorable really.  

Given that he was seated right next to you, no awkward crawling towards each other had to take place.  You just pivoted to face him, comfortably.  This kiss didn’t make you nervous.  You’d just gotten your first one out of the way, with the one guy you had been in love with your whole life.  So a second one with someone who was just a friend?  It seemed pretty easy.

Christopher had his eyes intently on you, which dropped down to look at your lips then back up to your eyes.  He leaned back on one hand, which he placed slightly behind you firmly into the carpet.  It gently brushed against your hip, his tone arm ghosting over the fabric of your dress.  He leaned in closer, slow and calculated, so that he was slightly looking up at you.  You still weren’t nervous, though, even as you looked into his dark blue eyes.  You just smiled, waiting.  His loods became hooded as he tilted his head just right, so that yours could tilt the opposite way whenever your lips made contact.  Sure enough, his lips found yours, and it was the most grounding kiss.  It was sweet, a little firmer than Steve’s.  He was soft, just a little more assertive.  Suddenly you felt his other hand cup the back of your neck, his touch tender and caring but secure.  It surprised you, but you didn’t pull away.  In fact, you instinctively placed a hand on his knee. 

If you hadn’t been busy locking lips with Christopher, you would have seen the melancholy expression on Steve’s face.  But you didn’t.  

Steve hopelessly watched you kiss the handsome sophomore, overcome with a sense of dread.  He hadn’t taken this into account when playing the game.  You know, that he’d actually have to watch you kiss another guy.  Maybe that wasn’t really the problem, though.  No, the problem was the way that Christopher kissed you.  Was still kissing you.  Steve could have sworn that he saw the blonde athlete move his lips against yours a second time, and envy creeped up his spine.  Christopher definitely hadn’t kissed Linda or Molly like that earlier in the game, when the bottle had landed on him during their turn.  Nah, this was just with you.  Why the hell was he kissing you like that?

…why the hell was he still kissing you like that?

Steve squirmed.  He felt as though he might laugh, or shout, or blurt something without being able to control himself, and he probably would have had it not been for you finally breaking contact with Christopher.  Oh thank Christ, Steve thought, as he let out a breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding this whole time.

You simply gave Christopher a warm smile, but your eyes looked slightly dazed and confused.  Because you were.  It had caught you a little off guard, the way that he’d just kissed you.  It definitely lasted a little longer than needed.  Not that you minded it.  You didn’t really know what to think of it, actually.  One thing was for sure, his gaze on you was not one he’d given any of the other girls that night.  You knew that much.  You might’ve been uncharacteristically oblivious to Steve’s feelings for you, but you weren’t blind to someone else’s.  Before now, though, you never really thought that Christopher felt anything for you aside from friendship.  But now, it seemed that he did.  It seemed he very much did.

Huh, you thought.  Interesting.

You still hadn’t looked over to see Steve’s disheartened expression in the midst of all the immature teenagers in a circle, making a series of noises and comments following the kiss.  He hoped that no one was watching him.  Then again, would he even care if they did?  That didn’t matter, not when he cared way more about the fact that some other guy was looking at you like that.  It didn’t sit right.  It really didn’t sit right.  

But what was he gonna do about it?  Say, “Hey Christopher, it’s my birthday, so maybe back off my girl?”  No, because you weren’t technically his.  You were your own.

…but your heart was his.

…and his heart was yours.

Steve doesn’t really remember much after that.  He knew they hadn’t been playing for much longer, and that eventually everyone wanted to shotgun some more beers.  He knew that Linda and Becky had been saying something to him in the lavish living room, as they twirled their hair and batted their lashes.  He knew that Tommy H. had been daring everyone to jump in the pool, dragging Carol in with him.  Teens screeched and hollered, splashing and laughing while the Eagles blasted in the background from the Harrington’s flashy stereo inside the house.

Steve does remember when “Sweet Emotion” by Aerosmith had started to play.  He was leaning against his kitchen island, making small talk with some of the guys.  You were out by the pool, red solo cup in hand, and you had started to sway to yourself.  The skirt of your dress flicked at the corners, your toned legs sashaying you from side to side.  You turned a little, so that he could see your profile.  You were grinning ear to ear, in your own little world.  He loved when you did that.  You were so damn adorable when you did that.  You lifted a hand into the air – the one not holding your cup of booze – closing your eyes, and singing the words.

Sweet emotion…

Sweet emotion…

You talk about things that nobody cares

Wearing out things that nobody wears

You turn so that you’re now facing the open sliding glass door, opening your eyes as you fix your gaze on Steve.  Your eyes are a little hazy, but still glow.  You point your finger at Steve, serenading him in your buzzed stupor.  Your grin deepens as you sing the next words along with Steven Tyler.

You’re calling my name, but I gotta make clear

I can’t say, baby, where I’ll be in a year

Steve can feel himself smiling like an idiot, shaking his head as he lets out a throaty chuckle that’s drowned out by the music.  He bites his lip absentmindedly, watching you just exist.  You throw your head back, smiling at the sky, hips still swaying.  

Stacy makes her way over to you from the other side of the pool, definitely more drunk than you were.  She sings loudly, catching your attention.  You look down from the black night sky to look at her, and you laugh when you see her wanting to join you.  She grabs your hand, twirling you around and singing everything off key.

Some sweat hog mama with a face like a gent

Said my get up and go, must've got up and went

Well I got good news, she's a real good liar

'Cause the backstage boogie sets your pants on fire

As the guitar solo rips through the stereo speakers, your dancing intensifies.  Everyone in the pool seem to be getting rowdier, also singing Aerosmith at the top of their lungs.

Stacy’s footing betrays her and she stumbles, laughing drunkenly.  You catch her, making sure that she’s okay and stifling a laugh.  But once you see that she’s clearly fine, you laugh too.  Liz makes her way out of the pool to check on her, squatting down and clutching her hands and still singing while Stacy just keeps laughing.

Steve takes the opportunity to approach you as you stand alone again, sneaking up quickly to grab you and spin you around.  You squeal, feeling his chest pressed to your back as your legs dangle off the ground.  You hold onto his toned arms tightly, giggling uncontrollably.  When he sets you back down, you turn so that you’re looking directly at him.  

Sweet emotion…

Sweet emotion…

Your stomach does flip-flops, seeing his signature Steve Harrington smiled directed only at you.  His brown eyes hold a certain mischief in them, and you can’t help but feel a rush of love for this boy you’d known since you were just barely in kindergarten.  He lifts your hand to twirl you, and suddenly you’re six years old again, dancing in your treehouse with Steve.  The real world ceases to exist, and it’s just the two of you in your own fantasy world.  No matter what ups and downs, highs and lows, good days and bad days, heartache and joy, that reality throws both of your way – the one constant you both have had is each other.  Somehow, that’s never changed. 

You both sing to each other, hand in hand and hips in time with the music.

I pulled into town in a police car

Your daddy said I took it just a little too far

You're telling her things but your girlfriend lied

You can't catch me 'cause the rabbit done died

Yes it did

Now everyone around you is losing their mind, screaming the words and partying like animals as the song continues to blare.  It’s an 80’s rock-n-roll kind of vibe, full of teen angst, booze and sexual tension.  Guys shotgun more beer by the pool, couples make out in the deep end.  Girls hold each other with limp limbs and sloppy smiles, slurring the words and proclaiming their girl power love for each other.  They won’t remember it tomorrow, but for tonight it’s the glorious eternal truth.

As for you – Nicole St. James, the freshman mystery girl and princess in the making – you’ve only got eyes and moves for your best friend in the world.  Steve Harrington, Hawkins High’s soon-to-be very own King Steve.  Two best friends and lovers in denial, hopelessly devoted to one another, just without the title.  You both dance around the truth together on his posh pool deck.  The confident shake of his hips and thrusts of yours fool you blind from seeing that you are just as equally afraid as he is to make the wrong move.

Stand in the front just a shakin' your ass

I'll take you backstage, you can drink from my glass

I'll talk about something you can sure understand

'Cause a month on the road and I'll be eating from your hand

Steve knows that something’s gotta give.  He knows that it can’t go on like this forever.  But for him, this is safe.  This is forever.  What you two have guarantees that you’ll both make it.  That you’ll never go away.  You won’t abandon him, or lose interest in him.  If he keeps his distance, even tangled up in your arms when dancing in his backyard or falling asleep next to you, then he’ll always keep you close.  All the money in the world, but he could never afford to lose that.  Not ever.

And you don’t say anything to make him change his mind.  To make him ask you to be his.  To make a move beyond a kiss shared in a public game of spin-the-bottle.  To tell you that he doesn’t just love you – but that he is in love with you.  You don’t confess it either, no matter how fiercely you want to do exactly that.  Because as selfish as it was, you were content too.  You never minded being on your own, but a world without Steve stopped being fathomable in 1972 on that brisk afternoon in your treehouse.  The second he had knocked on your pastel yellow door, in his little sage green sweater, jeans and converse, your solitude had made room for a second person.  He was your other half, so it really wasn’t even surrendering solitude.  It was simply completing it.  Steve completed it.  Completed you.

_________________

To be continued…

VOLUME II next month 🖤

TAG LIST: @loveshotzz @creelhousesteve @t-lostinworlds @freezaz123 @zbeez-outlet @cutiecusp @unhealthyobservationsloves @sunioli

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve au #steve the hair harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington one shot #team steve #joe keery #king steve #steve harrington au #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington oneshot #Steve Harrington x fem!character

[music-my-beloved]

Please Please Me: A 16yo's (horrible) album review

I Saw Her Standing There 🧍: She was just 17 apparently! Honestly I reallyyyy like the song !! She's electric and vibrant. Uber catchy and is kinda adorbs ! I'm not 17 but I shall imagine that this song captures what it's like to be 17 in some way, shape, or form ( hopefully, maybe not idk ).

Misery 💧: uh, babe it's giving break up !!! If I made a song like this all I'd hear is "God stop wallowing in self pity and get yourself back up there !!" But sometimes people need a little time to rot in their feels and I think this song is great for that !!! It's not super catchy but overall I didn't hate it. Music doesn't need to be catchy to be good >:3

Anna (Go To Him) 💍: I LOVE ITTTTTT. Man, Anna's a meanie girl ! What she did was dirttyyyyyy 😭😭 but good on the guy for letting her go and be happy even tho he couldn't be,,,, it was so sweet !! Uh anyway yeah this song is so good. I love how longing and sad it sounds. It's like if Misery and I Saw Her Standing There had a baby. It totally fits the 60's I can see it playing at a dinner or something !! Also, Anna girl, give that ring back !! 😭

Chains ⛓️: Honestly I can see myself liking this song in the future (two or three weeks from now) and it's honestly a really unique take on love that I really like. His girl's got him chained down with the chains of love !!! Not in an oppressive and controlling way but she's got him locked in !!! He loves her so much, they're connected 😣

Boys 🤷: Erm. Gay Anthem?? Don't know what to think about this one I really don't know 😭😭 talks about 'em all the time I guess??

Ask Me Why ❓: It's so cute !! I can also see this one being played at an old diner. The do-wop sound is like, addictive and supperrrr catchy. Really like this song. Kinda reminds me of A World Without Love by Peter and Gordon !!

Please Please Me 🫵: Honestly kinda forgot about her ?? After the first listen it was like I just had a fever dream. But also that might have been because I was in the car with my parents talking and I could hear them through my headphones so idk you tell me :/ but now that I've relistened to the album while writing the reviews I love this one!

Love Me Do ❤️: Don't really jive with this one :/ it's not a bad sing but it just wasn't my cup of tea !! I feel bad saying that 'cause I don't wanna be the typical teen that "only listens to catchy, simple songs" but this one just wasn't there for me the way Please Please Me and Anna were 😭😭

P.S. I Love You 💌: ITS SO CUTTTEEEEE !!!!! Was this song a precursor to All My Loving like, directly ??? If it wasn't I probably look stupid saying that but whatevs. This song is like, old and faded is a really lovely way like,,, who writes letters anymore, it's so romantic!!! The simple guitar is like, really bleeding through to me for some reason idk good job George !!!

Baby It's You 💕: 60s came through with this one. She is PUNGENT. It's giving Runaround Sue !! This one just feels like a classic.

Do You Want To Know A Secret 🫠: Elementary school yard ramped up!!! I can almost hear the children playing and yelling in the background it's so cutesy. Overall a pretty good track. Wouldn't mind hearing it again !!

A Taste of Honey 🍯: Reminds me of a song i'd hear in Rango.. hmm. I don't like this song as much as I feel I should?? Didn't quite give with me, it's just another track I guess (idk this review felt mean 😭😭)

There's a Place 🏩: Its like an amalgamation of all of the songs in the album. I'm hearing baby it's you, please please me, and literally everything else idk it's so strange

Twist and Shout 🌀: This song is iconic. There's nothing I cans at that will add or take anything away. Might be a bit overrated idk it's just me . But it's uber high energy and I like it !!

More Reviews Later, Next Up: With The Beatles ..

#guys pls dont grill me i have literally no musical talent #im doing this for fun #dont hate me 😭 #the beatles #george harrison #john lennon #paul mccartney #ringo starr #album review

[azuredragoonterra]

Alright fuckers time for the most cursed shit you've read today.

Sonic characters replacing the Berserk cast.

Its litterally just Berserk but instead the characters are Sonic dudes. Fuck my brain for coming up with this.

(Also to clarify, I'm not trying to draw meaningful parallels between the characters here, I'm just tossing them into the fiction blender and setting it to 10)

Alright so Guts=Shadow is so fucking obvious I don't even have to say it. Who the fuck else is gonna be that angsty and tragic.

This means logically we need to make Griffith=Sonic. It might hard to imagine the blue blur in such a villainous role, but like, he's pretty hard-lined about his ideals of freedom and independence. I could see him wanting to build a kingdom outta that. (Also he was voiced by Jason Griffith like c'mon this shit writes itself)

Casca=Amy is probabaly hella controversial but hear me out. She needs to idolize Sonic but still be able to form a strong emotional connection to Shadow. Take the badass leader role she took up in the IDW resistance/restoration and she fits like a glove. (Before you ask, I'm not writing this to ship shadamy, I'm just sick in the head.)

Ok so Rickert has gotta be Tails right? Like we've got our little inventor fox, idolizes Sonic, but ultimately has to find his own strength. Oh and can you imagine the slap?! Oblitetate that blue twink you funky lil fox!

Nearly forgot Puck! Initially I thought all the elves would just be Chao but then I realized... he's Chip from Sonic Unleashed. Chip as Puck is nearly 1 to 1 honestly.

E-123 Omega can be Zodd, why not. Big murder man who wants a good fight...

Shit wait maybe he should be Zavok... fuck that makes so much sense...

The Godhand are all just gonna be various eldritch super sonic bosses. Chaos, Iblis, Dark Gaia, etc. Make Void=Infinite for bonus irony points in the name.

The idea of evil is The End

Femto will be played by Neo Metal Sonic. I love the idea that Griffiths transformation made him cold, inhuman, not himself. While still obviously being who he always was underneath. Also keeps with the rest of the godhand being final bosses. Jumping forward a bit, I think when he reincarnates he oughta appear as super sonic constantly.

Ok we got the ever-green characters outta the way let's get granular.

The band of the hawk as Sonic bitches

So I don't wanna put too many iconic characters in the band and the actually relevant characters are sparce so real quick...

Corkus can be Fang/Nack. Cus he's a weasley little bitch (affectionate)

To that end let's keep team Hooligan connected and have Pippin be Bark the polar bear.

Gaston as Bean? Dude I got nothing gaston was kinda just there

Judeau however? Espio. Knife throwing.

While we're in the golden age...

Minister foss is Orbot

Charlotte's uncle, the guy Guts assassinates? Dr. Starline

Queen of Midland... Rouge? I deadass have nothing else for Rouge.

You can probabaly guess who the king and Charlotte are but they are at the bottom of the list for dramatic / comical /gross out effect.

Guts JRPG party as Sonic bozos.

Farnese shall be Blaze. They've got an affinity for fire, confidence issues, noble status, and a religious affiliation (blaze as guardian of the Sol emeralds, close enough)

Serpico is definitely Silver then. His close relationship to Farnese/Blaze as well as somewhat whimsical attitude all line up well. And Silver's telekinesis lines up well with Serpico's eventual wind powers.

Speaking of religious affiliations, Azan can be Knuckles! Hes goofy but strong and devoted to his cause.

Isidro has gotta be Charmy Bee. No not JUST because hes an annoying little shit... also cus his bee stinger subs in well for a dagger.

Shireke is gonna be Cream the Rabit. Mostly this is an in-joke on Creams high power in gameplay, and it also let's her elf Comapnion be played by Cheese the Chao.

By extension to the above. Flora ends up being Vanilia. I ALMOST decided skullknight would he vector just to continue the milf-hunter crocodile joke but came up with something better.

Ok if you've survived this far let's get into the dumb shit cus ohhh I've got some dumb shit.

SkullKnight is Big the Cat. I want all of his ominous warnings in the dopeyist voice possible. Also when he pops his helmet open to eat a Behliet (chaos emerald) it turns out it's actually just froggy in there.

Eggman is the King of Midland, SAGE is Charlotte. I'm sorry for all of the mental images this may have conjured.

Speaking of awful mental images, Gambino is Gerald Robotnik tortured over the death of his Granddaughter Maria when she caught the plague after taking in Shadow. This of all things is the one thing my brain automatically re-writes to make less weird. They ain't fucking.

That said? Gerald did make a deal... a transaction one might call it, with a certain Black Doom in sonic itself... I'm not elaborating yall can figure it out, yuck.

Elaine, aka broken Casca, is mid 2000s Amy when she had no good character traits. (Except elaine is still somehow like a million times better.)

The moonlight boy is a sonic Chao

#sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #knuckles the echidna #eggman #dr starline #shadow the hedgehog #e 123 omega #cream the rabbit #big the cat #amy rose #gerald robotnik #casca berserk #guts berserk #griffith berserk #berserk #farnese #serpico #schierke #Azan berserk #judeau #alternate universe #AU #awful bad terrible posts #character swap

[totalswapisland-official]

PIN POST

Main account:

Total Swap Island is obviously a fan project that is inspired by the Total Drama series.

In this alternative universe, the participants of the first season: Total Drama Island, are swaped and fused with participants of other seasons, principally the 2023 reboot.

(Also, the swaps and fusions aren't literally, in this universe all the events of the canon total drama timeline never Happened and all the participants of all the seasons don't exist, it only exist they contra-parts/fusions/swaps)

And when I mean swaped or fused the characters aren't like just a normal cringy swap au like under swap, the characters actually change. And mostly of the time what change is: they personality, design, clothes, gender and principally the names, some of them are fusion name of the two certain and others are totally original. Also, all the participants are 18 - 20 years old

And let's start with the ACTUAL sinopse:

24 problematic and queer like teenagers in a island trying to get 1 million dollars! But while they try to get they hands on the money, they need to eliminate and beat each other till one is left, and this person might be the chosen one, the most loved one, the villain that snicked into the final or... Just a person that everyone forgot to eliminate.

They will have 8 weeks to one of them win the money, almost every day will have a challenge to they beat and Normally, when a team win a team lose. And the team that Losed need to send one of their most useless player home, or just someone that they don't think is THAT useful anymore.

Ah, and also...

In this reality show we just accept interesting people! Pretty, disturbed, famous, well known people, and if you didn't fitted in any of that categories, than darling you aint famous, you're not iconic you're just like them all, DONT ACT LIKE YOU DON'T KNOW!

Hunf, thats it. Anyways blame Briteney

Erm, slay and period

created by: deimos breakfrost

Xoxo (kisses n hugs) by Dan

What will I do in this blog?

Giving y'all the information/gossips about the TSI cast

Post some TSI drawings

Post actualizations about Tsi

Giving some spoiler, leaks, headcanons (it will not be BIG stuff okay? It will be things that won't Spoil the entire season)

And Rebloging some fan arts (Yes, Rebloging. SO WATCH OUT WITH WHAT YOUR POST, BECAUSE IF IT IS CRINGE YALL WILL SEE IT AND ILL LOVE IT😍)

Adm: deimos breakfrost

@ferocioustrout @sharkyrandom

#total swap island #deimos post #gay loser post #pin post #total drama #total drama au #Total drama island #total drama action #total drama world tour #total drama revenge of the island #total drama all stars #total drama pahkitew island #total drama presents: the ridonculous race #Spotify

[jbuffyangel]

A Leap of Faith: Arrow 1x14 Review (The Odyssey)

WE HAVE ARRIVED!!!! FELICITY KNOWS!!! HALLELUJAH!

Hello to those who are reading this review right now.  I appreciate your dedication and patience as I have FINALLY resumed writing. HUGS!! I hope I remember how to do this. DRUM ROLL PLEASE!!!

Let’s dig in…

Olicity

This is a heavy flashback episode, so much so they had to render Oliver unconscious so Stephen didn’t have to pull double duty in the past and the present. The writers at least came up with a better idea than Joss Whedon did when Sarah Michelle Gellar hosted Saturday Night Live. He turned Buffy into a rat (which now that we know his disgusting and abusive behavior on set towards women this really tracks, but I digress). 

Arrow went a simpler route. Moira shoots Oliver.

Can we just talk about Moira shooting Oliver for a sec? Cool? Cool. So, Diggle has bugged Moira because he added 1 + 1 = THE BITCH IS SHADEY and decided to deal with the math, which is something Oliver likes to avoid, but the recording is damning enough to warrant a visit from the Hood. Oliver crashes through the window, takes out some of the office dudes and aims an arrow on his mama.

Moira holds up a picture of Oliver and Thea, begs the Hood not to kill her because she’s a mother and Oliver lessens the tension on the bow. AS IF YOU’RE GOING TO SHOOT HER OLIVER PLEASE. LIKE YOU MOMENTARILY FORGOT THIS WAS YOUR MOTHER AND THE PHOTO REMINDED YOU??!!! Come on dude.

Side note: I’d like to point out that Moira literally uses Oliver and Thea’s photo as a shield against the Hood, which is what she always does. She uses her motherhood and children as shield to justify her bad behavior. Moira is not the only person to give birth on this planet, Oliver. It’s not a free pass to murder people.

Oliver is bleeding out and the person he asks for help is not Diggle (even though he’s a phone call away), L*urel (the writers would prefer not to further integrate her into the plot in a meaningful way) or Tommy (they have to save that golden nugget for another time). No, the person Oliver goes to help is FELICITY MEGHAN SMOAK.

Source: @oliverxfelicity

The scene where Felicity finds out Oliver is the Hood is iconic primarily because she has the best reaction of all the characters in the show. Emily Bett Rickards plays the scene with pitch perfect comedic timing, vindication and genuine compassion. It marks Felicity’s full integration into the show. There is no going back now.

The rewatch is funnier now than it was live because Emily has recounted numerous times that Stephen didn’t fit into the back of Felicity’s Mini Cooper. I have the visual of Stephen’s bottom half hanging out of the side door the scene plays out. 

Felicity brings Oliver to the Foundry as instructed and this is no small thing. Oliver has been shot enough times to know he was losing a lot of blood and would be unconscious soon. He doesn’t make any kind of contact with Diggle to let him know what happened. Oliver’s life is truly in Felicity’s hands. She could bring him to the hospital, but they both know that would result in revealing The Hood’s true identity. Oliver has no guarantees Felicity won’t immediately go to the police either, and yet there he is in the back of the Mini Cooper.

Source: @westallenolicitygifs

TRUST is a central theme in Olicity’s relationship. It’s examined from almost every possible angle over the course of 8 seasons, but these early episodes are the building blocks. You don’t get to 1x14 without 1x12. Felicity took the first step. She confronted Oliver about his lies, admits she had no real reason to trust him, and yet there she is in the restaurant handing over Moira’s copy of The List. Felicity takes a leap of faith and so Oliver does the same.

This revelation has been steadily building from the moment Oliver walked into Felicity’s office and presented the bullet ridden computer. 

Source: @swifterly

Arrow has many missteps, particularly when they are not invested in a character, but when the writers are invested they can produce really profound character arcs. They slowly and rather painstakingly build Felicity’s character and her relationship with Oliver, step by step, moment by moment. It doesn’t feel rushed when Felicity discovers Oliver’s identity, but it doesn’t feel overdue either.  

It’s Felicity herself who asks the most fundamental question in “The Odyssey” and perhaps in the show.

Source: https://gfycat.com/discover/1x14-gifs

I think one of the more remarkable aspects to Arrow is that the writers often anticipate the audience’s questions and literally answer them in the show. More often than not, Felicity is the voice of the audience. It’s difficult to explain how dismissive some viewers were of Felicity now that we know how the story played out, but Olicity shippers really had it rough back in Season 1 and Season 2. 

It was LUDICROUS to even consider Felicity as a potential love interest for Oliver - not when you had the queen of comic canon L*urel L*ance right there. This was the Green Arrow’s origin story and there was no other possible ending other than Oliver ending up with the Bl*ck C*anary. 

Anyone who dared to question the presumed trajectory of the story was on the receiving end of a lot of ridicule and hate. Olicity shippers were idiotic. We were delusional. Felicity Smoak was comedic relief and the Girl Friday. THAT WAS ALL SHE WAS EVER GOING TO BE.

And yet… we hoped because of scenes like THIS. The writers were challenging their own narrative by asking the very question some of the audience was asking. WHY FELICITY? Why does Felicity find out the truth and not L*urel? Why does Oliver go to HER? If this was really about her ability with computers and becoming his Girl Friday then Diggle would’ve answered that way, but he doesn’t.

John’s answer contains a lot more depth.

“As hard as it is for him to admit, even Oliver needs help sometimes.”

Oliver NEEDS help. He cannot do this alone, even though that was his very intention in the beginning, but as the mission evolved so did Oliver. He went to Diggle first and now Felicity. Yes, they both have skills that are useful to the mission. Diggle is a trained solder. Felicity is a tech genius. (Oliver clearly had some computer skills in the pilot that the writers rapidly backed off of once they discovered the gem that is Emily Bett Rickards.) We can easily right this off as skills are the only qualifications that matter answer.

But Diggle didn’t join Oliver’s mission because he thought Oliver needed back up in the field. John recognized Oliver’s trauma because it was the same as his trauma. Diggle knows the hole Oliver is in because he was in the hole too. Diggle’s mission was always to save Oliver Queen. Whether or not Oliver is capable of acknowledging this is the help he truly needs from John (and he’s sooooooo not capable at this point in the story), it doesn’t change the truth.

The antis aren’t entirely wrong. Felicity Smoak was nothing. She was a throw away comic book name that Marc Guggenheim tossed into a little scene with an unknown guest star to give it some extra pizzazz. But that’s all it was ever supposed to be – one scene. What happened next was completely unexpected for the writers and the actors. Emily’s performance sparked something in Stephen’s and thus lighted the path the writers were struggling to find in Season 1. Felicity wasn’t supposed to matter, but that’s exactly why she does.

Oliver’s story is not about how many comic book characters Arrow can produce. It’s not about reproducing a comic canon story directly from the issue page onto a television screen. It’s not about a predetermined ending. If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times. It’s about a broken man finding his humanity again. Arrow is about saving a man’s soul.

If we are to truly believe Oliver is a changed man then he must see beyond what’s on the surface. He has to see value and worth in all people – particularly those who are perceived to be nothing.  This is an origin story. He’s not the Green Arrow yet, but for us to believe in his hero’s journey then Oliver Queen must see people’s humanity. The sum total of his mission is not crossing off a list of names.

Felicity Smoak is the first person who sparks something in Oliver when he returns home. This inconsequential human being, who is a means to an end to catch a bad guy, finds a way past Oliver’s cold and detached demeanor and makes him smile. We see Oliver’s humanity. We glimpse the warm, kind and deeply good person Oliver is. We see his light. Felicity makes Oliver feel something he cannot quite put into words, but he keeps coming back for more.

People are dismissive of Felicity the same way so many of the characters are dismissive of Oliver. One of the main reasons he’s able to keep his identity secret is because so many of his loved ones believe it’s ludicrous to ever think Oliver is a crime fighting vigilante. He’s too selfish and stupid for that. Nobody bothers to look past Oliver’s surface other than Diggle.

I mean… why not L*urel? The woman is a friggin lawyer and she has helped the Hood before. Doesn’t it make more sense at this point to bring her into the team? Shouldn’t Oliver rebuild his relationship with L*urel by allowing her to know the person he truly is? Their relationship fell apart because of lies and betrayal, so wouldn’t the fix be honesty and complete transparency? The answer to those questions are clearly yes, but Oliver has absolutely no intention of ever telling L*urel his true identity, so there’s a solid 75% of his life that she will never know about. What kind of relationship is that?

Oliver has told two virtual strangers his identity while keeping those he loves most in the dark. Why? I don’t think he trusts L*urel. He doesn’t trust she won’t turn him into daddy. His identity is safe if he’s in her good graces, but if L*urel decides she hates Oliver one week then it’s a trip to the slammer for him.

Before anyone jumps on the whole “Oliver is keeping his identity secret to protect L*urel” bandwagon, I’d like to point out that Diggle brings up this very point to Oliver after he is revived.  

I really don’t think Oliver is ambivalent about Felicity’s safety, quite the opposite is true. So, if it’s really that simple then why can’t Oliver protect L*urel? He literally chucks his number one reason for a secret identity right out the window.

Oliver doesn’t want to tell L*ruel because there’s too much pain, loss and guilt. There’s too much bad road between them. Oliver doesn’t have anything to atone for with Felicity and Diggle. The fact they didn’t know pre-island Ollie is a real friggin plus at this point. Oliver can just be who he is. It’s a clean slate.

Source: @westallenolicitygifs 

LOOK at how ambivalent this man is towards life. He just survived death AGAIN and he can barely summon any appreciation beyond “Cool.” But the very next scene is Oliver shaking Felicity’s hand and welcoming her to the team. 

Source: @westallenolicitygifs 

Did y’all fangirl over the handshake? These are the seasons where seasons where shoulders are Oliver and Felicity’s erogenous zones, so an actual handshake is practically second base.

Oliver extends the same invitation to Felicity that he offered to Diggle. She’s pretty much a member of Team Arrow at this point anyways. But like Diggle, Felicity has her own reasons for joining up with Oliver. Her goal is to save Walter simply because he was nice to her. Felicity is as loyal as they come.

Source: @andjustforthismoment

We can breathe a sigh of relief. The show is on the upswing because Felicity is finally officially on the team. From the moment she enters the Foundry, it feels like Felicity is coming home.  This is where she was always meant to be. Her bright magenta sweater (with matching lipstick naturally) is like a burst of colorful sunshine amongst all the grey, black and green. It’s been thirteen episodes of just Oliver and Diggle yapping while shirtless. Don’t get me wrong, I like the shirtless, but this show is in major need of a feminine injection. I wonder if she’ll decorate a little.

Source: @swifterly 

Felicity is the ONLY woman in Oliver’s life who knows who he truly is. This is no small matter. I disagree with Diggle. Oliver did have a choice. There were other people he could have called for help, but he chose Felicity. He doesn’t have to pretend with her anymore and I think that’s in large part why he tells her. Oliver lies so convincingly with everyone in his life, but not Felicity. He is terrible at lying to Felicity because he doesn’t want to lie to her. It’s just that simple. He cannot quantify what he feels at this point, but it is Felicity who reminds Oliver what it means to be human.

And if you’re truly paying attention to the show the writers tell us why Felicity from the very beginning. We weren’t delusional. We were right.

Source: @yet-i-remain-quiet

Felicity and Diggle

Stephen Amell is pulling full time duty in the flashbacks, which allows for a long overdue quality Diggle and Felicity scene. These are always so wonderful and so rare.

Source: intrepidmare 

Diggle catches Felicity up on the previous thirteen episodes and confirms everything she already knew. The fact that she’s the only character to figure out who Oliver is BEFORE he reveals his identity speaks volumes about her. Felicity is brilliant of course, but you don’t need to be a genius to piece this puzzle together.  I appreciate the writers don’t treat her like an idiot for the sake of keeping an identity secret from someone who clearly should’ve figured it out by now (*cough*Laurel*cough*)

Not that I’m taking anything away from Diggle, but he was a hell of a lot more shocked when Oliver revealed he was the Hood. I think Diggle knew there was a lot more to Oliver Queen than he was letting on and he was up to some shifty behavior, but I don’t think Diggle believed that meant he was murdering criminals with a bow and arrow on a nightly basis.

As they wait for Oliver to recover, Felicity decides to pass the time by asking John how he feels about all the murder. It’s one of the few times we hear about Diggle’s experience in Afghanistan and we get a clearer understanding on where John’s moral compass is pointing lately. 

He tells Felicity about the time he killed a young boy in order to protect a warlord in Afghanistan. There’s nothing more righteous than fighting for your country and yet Diggle had to do terrible things. He wanted to be an honorable solider, but came home feeling like he lost his honor. He couldn’t see what good he truly accomplished.

Diggle: I killed this kid to protect this human piece of garbage and I thought am I still good? Am I still a good man? Doing this with Oliver, doing what we do, I feel good again for the first time in a long time.

It is seriously one of David Ramsey’s most underrated performances.

John’s explanation is simple. Yes, Oliver kills but they are bad people. John isn’t thrilled about the murder, but it’s not like he enjoyed killing while in Afghanistan and he knows Oliver doesn’t enjoy it either. Loss of life is the cost of war, and sometimes a necessary evil, but at least in this war John feels like he’s actually accomplishing something. Diggle is finding his honor again. If he has to break the law to win the war then it’s a cost Diggle is willing to pay.

Source: @swifterly

This scene is key to understanding why Felicity joins the team. Yes, she wants to save Walter, but it means a certain level of acceptance with the way Oliver does business. We’re going to flesh out Felicity’s attitude about Oliver’s killing a lot more in the upcoming episodes, but he may need to take some lives of VERY EVIL PEOPLE in order to save Walter’s life. Felicity is not stupid. She knows this.

One of my annoyances in later seasons is whenever Oliver does something bad to Felicity it can be treated like the worst thing he’s ever done. Whereas I remain firmly entrenched in torture and murder being the worst things Oliver has ever done. Homegirl not only joined up with Oliver while he was dropping bodies left and right, she also fell in love with him while he was doing it. 

Felicity Smoak is not pure as the driven snow. Her moral compass skews slightly left of dead center, no different than Oliver and Diggle. But we have to ask the same question Diggle asks himself every day – what is good? Oliver operates in a world of grey and watching Felicity navigate it with him is what gives their dynamic the necessary push and pull.

Flashbacks

Shockingly, everything I talked about previously is not the main focus of the episode. The Flashbacks are the main focus, but my investment in them was minimal when I watched Season 1 live and they’ve plummeted further upon my rewatch.

Island Ollie is such a pain in the ass. Honestly, I cannot believe Slade and Yao Fei put up with his ass for so long. Could you blame them if they just bitched slapped the hell out of Oliver and left him for dead? No. They deserve medals. Oliver is so whiney & entitled. How did any woman find this man attractive enough to sleep with him? The hair alone is ... 

WOMEN OF STARLING CITY I HAVE QUESTIONS.

Slade and Oliver are going to commandeer a plane and fly off the island. Oliver would also like to save Yao Fei, but Slade is not convinced it is worth the effort. Oliver’s refusal to abandon Yao Fei gives us a glimpse of the hero he will become, so I am willing to give credit where credit is due. But Ollie is right back to his old tricks when he tries to buy off Billy Wintergreen to save his own life.  

Dear Ollie,

These people are psychopaths. You are in Purgatory. You are paying for your sins. You will not be able to buy your way out of it.

Love,

Me

Slade’s training is not a total loss. Well, that’s not true. Oliver screws up virtually every job Slade gives him, but he is able to disarm a bad guy so that’s progress at least. Slade kills his ex BFF Billy Wintergreen too so Team Island is also on an upswing.

I wondered how much I was going to have to write about The Odyssey since the name of the episode is “The Odyssey” but leave it to Arrow to be subtle about it. It’s the book Fyers is reading on the island and the only book Oliver read in college, so he knows the secret challenge code when the pilot tries to verify their identity.

For those who never had an English literature class, The Odyssey is a Greek poem written by Homer about Odysseus’ 10 year struggle to return home after the Trojan War. The challenge code Oliver repeats from the poem flat out explains what Arrow is about. 

“Of all creatures that breathe and move upon the earth, nothing is bred that is weaker than man.”

Homer is acknowledging that humanity is weak by our very nature, especially when compared to the gods. We are powerless against the pain the gods inflict upon humanity, but more often than not we are the makers our own suffering. Yet, it is this very weakness which makes our victories so sweet. The gods‘ immortality & power ultimately renders their lives meaningless because they have nothing to lose.

Odysseus doesn’t have any magical powers. He survives by his cunning & will, which makes his journey home EARNED. Odysseus appreciates life and those he loves because he suffered. This appreciation for life is something the gods can never have.

“The gods envy us. They envy us because we’re mortal, because any moment may be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we’re doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.” — Homer, The Iliad

Oliver = Odysseus. Here endeth the lesson.

Stray Thoughts

Oliver making Mama Queen off limits is really one of his stupider moves and sets up a lot of the disastrous things coming up.

I’m really trying not to read into Diggle’s “hickey gone wrong” comment in the episode Felicity officially joins the team, but alas I am failing. I will find my Olicity sexual content wherever possible.

Felicity ordered the sample of Oliver’s blood destroyed. Damn she’s good. And we get this adorable gif.

The bathroom is upstairs in the club? That seems inconvenient.

Yao Fei has a daughter. A daughter with the same tattoo Oliver has on his shoulder. The plot thickens.

It’s really amazing Diggle didn’t shoot Felicity by accident.

Me: UGH. They never include L*urel in the flashbacks. Also Me: UGH. L*urel is in the flashbacks. KEEP IT.

“Do you think you can sleep with your girlfriend’s sister and make it right?” Slade wins all the awards this episode honestly. Finally someone said it.

***No more commentary from the child. She is a teenager and is way too busy to watch a show with her old mom. She will always be an Olicity shipper though.

Listen to the @watchover-podcast reaction to 1x14!!! 

Disclaimer: Any gifs on the blog are not mine. If you would like a gif removed from my reviews, please message me.

If you’d like to support the blog, please buy me a cup of tea!

#arrow #arrow 1x14 #olicity #olicity 1x14 #arrow reviews #arrow review #arrow season 1 #arrow season 1 review #arrow season 1 reviews #felicity smoak #oliver queen #john diggle #anti laurel lance #anti lauriver #watchover #watchover podcast #watchover with jen and calli #season 1 episode review #season 1 episode reviews

[wordsarefakeokay]

Girls in line for the bathroom: why can't anyone be as nice as them?

The oh are you in line? No it's back there okay thank you for letting me know. Oh do you need to go first here I can wait. Oh shoot I forgot a tampon and everyone reaches for their purse or pocket or hoodie or wallet. Passing the time looking at yourself in the mirror and the girl next to you says "oh hey here I have a compact you can use but honestly honey you look fly" kind of vibe. The I notice the mom and her kids tap tap tapping patiently but that kid looks like their gonna burst here ya go I can wait. The frail lady who's at a snails pace behind you but goes first because little ladies need that kindness because they've made it that far. The eye contact people make when there's a weird girl who needs a lot of help, likely of the professional kind, but still is having a stressful day so she forgot her keys and cries and her phone just died and how's she gonna make it to the end of the day or now the end of the week? Make a friend in the line and then let's go sit on the bench afterwards if you have a minute. But for right now here, have a tissue I keep on hand bc I have allergies that act up all the time. The person who's clearly on break from work and is working sick and on the phone talking to their kid about seeing that they feed the younger sibling and "I'll be home tonight but mommy is very tired so we may have to watch bluey together later buti promise by this weekend mommy will be back to normal" but you see that it's Thursday and there's red under her nose from where she's been rubbing and sniffling and her eyes are watery but she's almost done with the worst of it so you reach in your pocket for the DayQuil pill you forgot to remove last week when you had a terrible cold. "You need this more than me go watch bluey with your child when you're ready" You saw her practice a take grin so she had the cheeriest joker smile you've ever seen and she starts to get choked up when she sees what you're offering. "I've been too stretched thin to even justify making a trip to the store what can I do to repay you?" she asks and you shrug. Just happy to help. She looks down at her phone and has to dash back to the grind but she's yelling thank you out the door. Kind girls in line look like the comfiest outfit you've ever seen walk in and your eyes go to the captain marvel logo on her shirt and instinctively you say "nice shirt" she blinks out of her comfy Tshirt jeans hoodie high tops faze and she says thank you. You see her blink again and take in her reality. "I don't really like marvel movies anymore but there was just something about that movie you know" you get transported to your first time watching this movie with a queer coded relationship and a queer gal icon introduced into the hell hole that is the MCU and you remember how the first time you saw it you were on a date with a girl and you both held hands and were so excited that representation fit that moment with you and your girl and this very cute very cuddly moment watching Brie Larson be powerful and strong and this is good representation for girls but there's enough queer subtlety that you fell in love with her and captain marvel and a little bit further with MCU for a second. And then you remember how not too long afterwards you remembered the fatigue marvel movies instilled. You remember how to better critically analyze these movies and what it means to watch them from such a massive corporate entity and what happened to different media networks what does it mean that there's so few forces in reality what does that mean for the world and what does it mean for this movie with this actress in this moment with this girl and in my life? All this passes in the blink of an eye but you know you'll likely be plagued by this question later at night when you can't sleep. When you open your eyes again you remember what the girl said to you and you say "yeah I understand that, there was something there"

Why can't more people be like girls in line for the bathroom

#writing #words #warm up ish #spilled ink #queer writers #my writing

[kindheart525]

APRIL FOOLS!

Although I have two next gen projects well underway, I’m always coming up with new ideas for stories or tropes to explore, and some of them don’t fit in my existing projects. I know this may seem impulsive, but I’ve actually been planning this privately since November so it isn’t at all. I am proud to introduce my fourth next gen project, which for now I’m calling the Fourthverse!

*****

Twilight Sparkle is a proud single mom to two adorable twin fillies! They’re as close as can be, joined at the hip on all levels except physical. They finish each other’s sentences to the point where they almost look like they’re speaking in unison, they follow each other everywhere to the point where they’re absolutely never apart, down to sleeping together…not that anyone’s seen them sleep. Who’s the sire? Where are they? Did anypony even see Twilight pregnant? Twilight wishes ponies would stop asking all these questions, and she’s tired of seeing even her closest friends avoid eye contact with her beautiful creations…I mean children. They were created completely naturally and ethically, I promise!

Fluttershy may be good with animals, but that doesn’t mean she’s good with children. This is a lesson she learned years ago when caring her her friends’ sisters, but she forgot about it by the time she decided to have a child of her own and insisted it would be easy. If she can wrestle a bear, she can put a foal to sleep! Well, that logic obviously proved itself wrong as parenting turned out to be far more than Fluttershy was prepared for. Somewhere along the line she lost her mind, completely giving up on motherhood and throwing herself back into her role as an animal caretaker. She throws a birthday party for each and every one of her bajillion pets, all the while forgetting to care for her own foal, let alone celebrate the day she became a mother.

Pinkie Pie wants to make every foal smile, but once she had her own, she had to learn that life wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. There’s a lot of responsibility just to keep them alive. She may have figured it out for babysitting the Cake twins on occasion, but with her own foals there wasn’t a single break from responsibility. Eventually she realized that a lot of things about her own lifestyle were not suitable for raising a foal. Constant fun, constant sugar, constant energy…it was not the key to a balanced upbringing. But her parenting style became unbalanced in the opposite direction where she now gives her kids a life of constant boredom and no sweets at all. Pinkamena makes her own parents look like party clowns. It’s not the life she likes, but at least her family is safe and healthy.

Rainbow Dash is the menace of Equestria…or an icon, depending on how you want to look at it. No adult female of any species can resist her electrifying energy, the deep allure of desire that she invokes just by her mere existence. Wives have left husbands, heads of state have caused scandals, all for just a chance to taste the rainbow. Citizens are divided over whether this world savior is really a benefit to society anymore. If she still deserves to be called the Element of Loyalty. Well, to that she would say, she’s not the one encouraging creatures to betray her vows for her. She’s not making any promises she would break. They just stick to her like magnets without her even having to do anything; she can’t help being this awesome and irresistible. One thing’s for sure: she is contributing to a whole lot of population growth. This is only a fraction of it.

Applejack has fallen head over hooves for a very special stallion! Blank Sheet, a paper company executive, is the apple of her eye and nopony can convince her that he isn’t the one. Family members ask how she fell for a stallion that isn’t even a farmer, isn’t farming the core of her very being? Well, paper is made of trees so it still counts, darn it! He ain’t much into music, or athletics, or even really a conversationalist. He doesn’t smile a whole lot, if he ever has. He isn’t really a family stallion either…does he even have a family? But consarnit, Blank Sheet really does have a fascinatin’ personality once ya get to know him! It’s just that nopony but her can see it. AJ may be fighting for her life at the Friendship Council meetings every time she speaks of him, but there is no doubt in her mind that he’ll make a fine Apple one day.

Rarity feels as if the universe has put a curse upon her. All she wants is to settle down and raise a family with a good and generous stallion, but it’s like the universe pulls the rug out from under her every time she gets close to that goal. Each time she thinks she has met the love of her life, he dies tragically in some ridiculous and unbelievable way. Lost in the Everfree Forest, fallen into a pit of lava, even crushed by an anvil falling from the sky! One even died from a sprained ankle for some Celestia-foresaken reason. Rarity can never feel too safe, as tragedy can strike anywhere from early in the relationship to over a year into marriage. This poor stallion met his demise in the jaws of a bugbear, leaving Rarity to raise yet another foal alone among the many others her lost lovers have given her. Will she ever get a break?

*****

I’m really excited to start this project and introduce you all to the kids in between Auraverse and Thirdverse work. I’m excited for those verses as well ofc but I’m starting to think these are some of my best ideas yet!

#KindsArt #fourthverse #twilight sparkle #fluttershy #angel bunny #pinkie pie #rainbow dash #applejack #oc x canon #rarity #bugbear #tw death mention #mane 6 #my little pony #mlp fim #mlp g4 #next generation #april fools #april fools prank

[friendlyfatbee]

6th Hottest Ghosts: DJ Phantasmagloria and Serpci

Serpci is a one trick pony and DJ Phantasmagloria can kick your butt, I will explain why in the following essay- /hj

Serpci:

Looks: I tried to judge her specifically for beauty standards during the New Kingdom of ancient Egypt, at least thats what her attire suggests. Serpci scores perfectly in this catagory with her body type, hairstyle, longer dress, pectoral (type of necklace here, including the usage of gold and faience, which is a common blue-green material), and her makeup. (Source: Fashion and Beauty in Ancient Egypt by The Not So Innocents Abroad, warning: discussion of female anatomy and nude Egyptian statues.) Serpci also furfilled a lot of catagories in regards to wealthy women during this time period, such as fitted lightweight linen or bead dresses (Source: Ancient Egyptian Clothes by Archeology Now, warning: Nudity in Egyptian art used.) Long story short, this woman is rich and attractive.

Personality: Serpci has a pretty good personality! She exudes power and grace with her movements and body language, a witty leader, and even accepts her defeat with dignity (when she is vacuumed up by Luigi and she lays herself to rest.) A detail I’ve noticed is when Luigi manages to survive all her attacks (giant sand head, small sand vipers that shoot projectiles) she’ll… scream in anger. She isn’t infinitely patient, and tbh I understand completely losing it if your almost flawless attack managed to fail. This girl likes to toy with Luigi, ex. Doing a bunch of showy movements and distracting Luigi before sealing him to the bottom of her pyramid, and choosing to give him chills instead of straight up capturing or killing him when she sneaks up on him. While I wish there was more of some sort of character dynamic like having more apparent flaws, perhaps being furious and immature when things don’t go her way? Because most of the time on screen she does things successfully except for defeating Luigi when he does escape the pyramid. I recommend rewatching her fight and seeing her animation for when Luigi dodges her sand serpents that shoot projectiles! Otherwise she doesn’t exhibit toxic traits and seems interesting enough, but thats about it.

Survival Rate: Surprisingly a medium score. So here’s the think about the whole ‘one trick pony’ thing: she can only control sand. All her strong attacks are sand related, but once that’s taken away from her with a vacuum she is vulnerable and lacks any form of threat. Her floor is full of sand, hence she’s super powerful there (unless, like established, it is taken away like vacuuming.) Throw her into another environment, and she’s a fish out of water.

Niceness Rate: Kind of lower, since she seems to enjoy teasing Luigi and then sending him to his demise.

DJ Phantasmagloria:

Looks: Her beauty standards were based within the 1970s (time of both disco and the origin term of Deejay.) She holds up with a wonderful score, such out having a warm bronze appearance, youthful look, thin eyebrows, cranberry lip stick, and of course the iconic Afro which became incredibly popular in black communities. (Source: Beauty Standards Throughout the Decades: The 1970s by Simone Sydel) (If you want to see more evidence of the Afro being popularized along with confident black women, take a look at the article Rare Photos of ‘70s Black Beauty Pageants Celebrate Women Defying Beauty Standards by Kristina Rodulfo. Warning, photos of women in bikinis.) However a point was deducted for the outfit itself just… not really being interesting? Its almost depressing in appearance compared to what outfits were present during the 1970s (ex. Tie-dye, maxi dresses, wide lapel blazer, and more.)

Personality: Fun fact, I ended up having to rewatch her fight because the first time I was too entranced with watching her and enjoying her that I completely forgot to write notes. She’s just there to have a good time! She’s having the time of her unlife!- she doesn’t even tease Luigi that much an enjoy it, she’s just in a good mood. She’s grooving, and she only looks a bit irritated and distressed once Luigi starts vacuuming one of the dancer goobs. She loses her patience however once Luigi messes up the entire dance routine (I enjoy the touch of the record stop sound effect) and immediately gets on the dance floor, acting like everything’s still good only to give Luigi a threatening look. She still has her spirits up throughout the fight, dancing all the while Luigi is dodging her attacks. She even dances in her defeat animation while Luigi vacuums her up, safe to say at this point she heavily values music and performances. Though, like Serpci there is a lack of flaws (though it can be argued that maybe Gloria tries to minimize problems and make them seem not serious for the sake of keeping the atmosphere lighthearted.)

Survival Rate: Somewhat low because her vinyls are on fire, she can summon these vinyls anytime, and uh… getting sliced/lit on fire at the same time does not sound pleasant.

Niceness Rate: Middle of the road, its hard to tell because of no negative or positive actions toward other goobs or toward Luigi.

Overall, I love these two and have no major complaints! And now I shall rewatch DJ Phantasmagloria’s boss fight because I love her. And again. And again and again and again—

#POCKET SAND #luigis mansion 3 #luigi’s mansion 3 #shitpost #my art #lm3 #lm3 serpci #lm3 hot to not #lm3 Dj Phantasmagloria #Dj Phantasmagloria #edit I screwed up Gloria’s name I can’t believe myself 🤦🏻

[ouranbutworse]

Anime-Manga Comparisons, episode 17.

I hope I have enough self control to not Renge-out about this Kyoya centric episode, but I don’t have faith in myself. As I said last time, the manga Karuizawa arc is over, but in the anime they make it a trilogy of episodes with this being the final one. This is also part of volume seven, not six, because volume six was all about the battle for the central salon and Kuze and Kanan. I would have paid a lot of money to see them in the anime!

The manga starts off introducing Kyoya, in case we forgot who he was already, but the anime starts with a really foreboding image of Yoshio and his voiceover, and then Akito and Yuuichi too. They’re all shadowy and a little creepy, and now that I think about it, it’s almost like Kyoya’s having a nightmare. I mean, I would too. Also, he wakes up sitting down in the anime, but standing up in the manga. Not a huge difference, but his more dishevelled anime look fits better.

Interestingly, the anime points out his low blood pressure, but the manga doesn’t. I guess that part of him comes later in the manga?

Haruhi says Tamaki would be devastated to know of Kyoya’s motives in the manga, but in the anime straight up says he’d cry, which is more accurate frankly. Also anime Kyoya says he just wants to look around some more before he leaves, but manga Kyoya gives us the more iconic “I don’t like to ride in strange vehicles right after eating, I’m a delicate boy.” If the anime had that line, there wouldn’t be a need for twenty more minutes of the episode because right there is him at his silliest, Tamaki-ist, and most true.

Manga Haruhi asks about his brothers and he actually gives her a normal answer, complimenting them and telling her that being the third son is an exciting game for him, but when anime Haruhi asks about them he brushes her off completely because he’s still pretending he’s unknowable. Haruhi calls him unfair because he knows everything about Haruhi’s family and he finally gives in and we get a flashback. This flashback doesn’t happen in the manga as far as I’ve seen, but god does Kyoya have a pretty face.

In the manga the melon snacks scene happens first, and then the confronting the seller scene but in the anime it’s the other way round. The anime also omits a scene before the confrontation where Haruhi reaches out to touch a vase and the seller swats her away and calls her an ‘ignorant window shopper’, Kyoya doesn’t rush to defend her at first, but he does go on to stop the old woman from buying the counterfeit bowls. Manga Kyoya says that the woman’s ring and kimono is what tips him off, and the flag isn’t there, but instead it’s people obscuring her. Haruhi calls him out and tells him that what he gets from the club isn’t tangible, but something else. Unfortunately before he can try and weasel his way out of it, the lost kid announcement plays.

In the anime scene, we’re looking at melon snacks. As Haruhi is having a sudden breakthrough she’s distracted by Kyoya calling for her, but in the manga she straight up slams into his back while they’re walking. He’s pretty solid and doesn’t seem to even notice, but he does notice her adorable little giggle, as we all do.

The anime adds an entire scene for the other hosts screwing around in the mall, where we see Renge performing a skit for the kids, and we meet Antoinette, who never returns again after this point. Sorry girl, you’ve brought absolutely nothing to this show! You’re still a good girl, though.

Renge’s skit reminds them of Kyoya via one of the Host Rangers, but the host ranger colour is black instead of purple, which is weird considering how much time we spend looking at their significant colours. It helps the others remember their favourite token evil teammate, at least. Tamaki looks especially embarrassed at forgetting his best friend. While they’re worrying over him Haruhi and Kyoya are sitting on a bench with a significant bit of distance between them, using an information board as what I can only guess is a visual representation of the wall between Haruhi and the hosts. Or maybe I’m just looking too deeply into nothing. Kyoya’s sandals are ugly as hell.

Haruhi gets to talk a little more about Tamaki here, how they’re similar, and we get callbacks to Tamaki being his loveable self and even a flashforward to his later episode. He’s probably about to declare his love for the idiot, until the announcement happens and his character development cranks all the way back.

Antoinette licks Tamaki all over his face and Kyoya wonders how he’s anything like him. If you’d gotten Noel in this anime you’d be the exact same and you know it. Since he calls him an idiot and Haruhi calls him out on lying earlier and acting like an egoist when he’s not. She kind of implied he’s an idiot, too, which is correct. The anime ends with Haruhi escaping with the melon snacks and having the upper hand, but in the manga Kyoya calls his bodyguards off screen and they tie up the rest of the club as punishment, giving him the last laugh. Haruhi still makes off with the snacks, though.

Episode 17… and the Karuizawa arc… over!

#ohshc #ouran high school host club #comparisons series #manga tag #writing tag

[panickinganakin]

stepping stones to hell ch. 8 (ronance fic)

hello!! you can find all previous chapters here!

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Painter’s Point was beautiful; even in the dark. Especially in the dark, Robin had thought. 

The grass was so soft it almost felt fake. There were small yellow flowers throughout the field and taller yellow flowers that surrounded the pond. An old wooden dock sat to the right of the pond, “It’s rather fragile. I think it’s best if we lay out here,” Nancy said. She flung out the blanket and it glided down, landing perfectly on the ground. 

The two sat down next to one another and Robin stared at the water. The moon was reflected in it but it looked huge and beautiful. “Everything is so clear out here,” Robin said as they both fell on their backs. 

She stared up at the night sky; it was as if she could see every single star. Nancy held her hand up, pointing straight down below them, “Capricornus.” 

Robin looked over and it took her a moment to locate the constellation. “I can’t believe how well you can see everything. What’s that one?” Robin gestured towards Nancy’s side above them.

“Ohhhh, that one is Cygnus. It’s one of my favorites. There’s Pegasus,” she turned on her side, motioning to the left of them. 

Robin found which one Nancy meant and let out a soft breath, “Stars are so fucking beautiful.” 

Nancy stayed propped on her side now looking at Robin, “I love coming out here to look at the sky. There’s something so calming about it. I usually come alone.” 

“Thank you for sharing this with me,” Robin said, trying to hold eye contact with her. 

Nancy sat up and opened one bottle of the wine then took a long drink. She passed it to Robin who turned it up. She wasn’t someone who drank a lot so she was surprised to find that it was sweet. “I don’t think I’ve ever had good wine before.” 

“It’s one of the cheapest they sell at Walmart. The expensive shit is always so dry and bitter.” 

“Noted,” Robin took another drink of the wine before passing it back to Nancy. 

They sat in silence before Nancy looked out over the water. “Can we play a game?” 

Robin raised an eyebrow, “Like?” 

“Just ask each other questions. I feel like there’s so much of our lives we’ve missed out on. I just want to know you.” Nancy said quietly. 

Robin knew that even the night sky couldn’t hide how red her cheeks had become. She nodded slowly, “Alright. I’ll go first, what’s your favorite color?” 

Nancy smiled before she tilted her head in thought, “Peach. But not like a bright peach, like a soft peach. An almost pastel shade of peach.” Robin closed her eyes for a moment and could picture Nancy wearing a cardigan the color she had described. It paired well with her eyes and dark hair. It made sense that it was her favorite. Nancy interrupted Robin’s imagination with a question of her own, “Who’s your favorite band? Or artist?” 

Robin bit her lip, “That is a tough one. Elton John is one of my favorites and has always been an icon to me. I also love Prince and The Cranberries. Ugh, too hard to choose. I love them all for different reasons.” 

“If you had to pick one?” 

“Queen,” Robin finally decided. Nancy nodded her head in approval while Robin thought of her next question. “What’s your favorite movie?” 

“Okay, so I think it’s because we literally just watched it but I really love Jurassic Park. However, it is fresh on my mind. Had you asked me hours ago before I had seen it,” she trailed off in thought. “Hmmm, I think I would have said Back to the Future two.” 

Robin covered her heart with her hand, “Nancy Wheeler. Those are the words I’ve waited to hear my whole life.” 

“I figured you would say something like that.” She smiled and Robin raised an eyebrow, “What? Don’t think I forgot Halloween of eighty-five. I had come to rent a movie and you were dressed like Marty McFly. You made Steve wear that ridiculous Doc costume.” 

Robin fell into a fit of laughter. She hadn’t forgotten about that year but she did forget that Nancy had stopped by Family Video. “Oh man, Steve hated that wig. He was so pissed. I don’t think we’ve topped those costumes since.” She sighed before looking back at Nancy, “You would love my bedroom. I have a replica of Marty’s guitar from prom night.” 

“You don’t!” 

“I do! I really do. In fact, when I get back from tour, you are more than welcome to come see it.”

“Oh? So I can see something as precious as that but I’m not allowed to see your t-shirt collection?” 

“Why do you think I said when I get back? I can’t show you tonight because then you’ll rob me and leave town before I’m even back.” 

Nancy laughed as she grabbed the second bottle of wine. “I’m glad you feel you know me so well. Okay, my turn. Oh, got it. What’s your favorite book?” 

“Oh that’s an easy one,” Robin started. “The Princess Bride.” 

“Really? The Princess Bride?” 

“What? Why do you look so shocked?” Robin stared at Nancy who looked to be in disbelief. 

“I just would have expected like Stephen King or something?” 

Robin did a double take of her, “Stephen what? No! No way. I cannot stomach horror. I’m a scaredy cat. Like the biggest ever.”

Nancy let out a joyous laugh, “What?!” 

“What? What’s so surprising about that? Have you met me? I’m terrified of almost everything!” 

“Okay, that’s fair. But, you don’t act like it.” 

The two of them shared more wine before they laid back on the blanket again, staring at the stars again. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ve only ever seen you in one scary situation. You know, when we were younger. You always seemed so brave. When I look back I always picture you throwing that bottle while we literally stared death in the face.” 

Robin chuckled softly, “Funny. I thought you pictured me as Marty McFly.” 

Nancy laughed and brushed Robin’s arm, “Shut up.” 

They laughed together, falling into a silence once again. Robin squeezed her eyes shut tight, trying to not think about what had happened that night in Hawkins all those years ago. “When did you know you liked girls?” Nancy asked. 

“I thought it was my turn,” Robin offered, then sucked in a breath. “I don’t really remember, that’s how young I was. I know when I had my first real big crush was high school. I just never had an interest in men. I could never say that though, no matter how early I knew.” 

The two turned their heads to look at each other. Robin could see something on Nancy’s face she had never realized before. She was wearing the same scared look that Robin herself had masked all those years ago. It was the same look she had given herself in the mirror when she questioned why she was different. “Nancy, I-'' she paused. She didn’t want to assume. What if it was just the alcohol? Robin didn’t feel drunk, she barely felt buzzed. However, maybe it had hit her harder than she realized. She didn’t want to make Nancy uncomfortable. They had just become friends, she didn’t want to scare her away. 

“I’m really glad we’ve reconnected, Robin.” Her voice was barely a whisper. 

So maybe the alcohol was clouding her judgment. Or maybe it was the hope deep down that someone like Nancy Wheeler could ever like someone like her. She felt crazy. Even though they had known each other for a long time they had only just rekindled a friendship. Robin didn’t like Nancy. She couldn’t, it was too soon. She was just feeling the wine, that was all. 

Robin gave a half smile before turning to look back at the constellations above her, “Me too, Nance. Me too.” 

#ronance #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #stranger things #ronance fic #st4 #robin and nancy #steddie confirmed #corroded coffin #robin buckley is a drummer #fruity four #the fruity four #steddie and ronance #stranger things fic #st fic #stepping stones

[the-river-is-right-there-chopper]

The One Strange, Real Thing You Can't Replace

I couldn't find this iconic story's animatic for Ace Combat fandom, so I decided to make one myself. Then I realized, in wise words of another Tumblr user I forgot: "I make Art.txt, not Art.png" But that didn't stop me. Anyway here goes:

Rush hour in the Sky Kid Bar in Expo City. A group of nuggets from New Arrows Air Base gather around their mentor to hear another war story. He was a veteran of many conflicts and a former member of a few ace squadrons, regular and special taskforces. His TAC name was Count.

"Another story I heard about myself, this one happened during another Free Erusea uprising. There was this ace in the enemy air force, whose protégé flew in the enemy air force. His name was Mihaly Dumitru Margareta Corneliu Leopold Blanca Karol Aeon Ignatius Raphael Maria Niketas A. Shilage and his apprentice Yellow 13 was in the enemy squadron. He started flying in the Continental War while I started in the Lighthouse War, so he was 1 war ahead. And Mihaly… was an asshole.

"And one weekend he and his granddaughters decided to leave the air base. Which you should never do if you're an asshole. And Yellow 13 decided to patrol the airspace above their base. Hurray! And everyone in the Joint Assault Peacekeeping Squadron heard about it, and we all got up individually and thought: Okay, let's go over there and destroy the place.

"I entered the AO, everyone I had ever met was there, and everyone was flying like it was a superweapon fight. People were flying like it was the Belkan War and Pixy was coming to cut our wings off with that laser.

"It was totally unsupervised. Long Caster was baking a birthday cake for Eagle Eye and Oka Nieba with Bandog were making Thunderhead loosen up by force. We were like Spare Squadron, we were running wild.

"I descend- I descended to a lower altitude, they had a castle on a hill. Talisman took a Strike Eagle and dropped an SFFS on the castle and leveled it. Trigger packed Avril into his WSO seat, and found out which hangar was Mihaly's and landed and disassembled his Flanker.

"So the operation was going great.

"I'm flying low and I'm doing a cobra, you've seen Top Gun: Maverick, and I'm flying low, and I'm doing a cobra, and I'm starting to black out. And I guess someone said like <<something, something, Gründer>> and in a brilliant moment of word association, I yelled <<Fuck Belkan witchcraft!>>.

"<<Fuck Belkan witchcraft!>>.

"And everyone else joined in. A dozen of G-LOCed pilots, some of them of Belkan descent yelling <<Fuck. Belkan. Witchcraft.>>. With the confidence of guys who have, like, already been to solitary and aren’t afraid of it anymore. You know that like ‘I’ll take whatever the hell action I see fit’ confidence.

“The reason someone had said <<something, something, Gründer>> was because the Z.O.E. drones were there. So Doctor Schroeder went into the enemy command center and looked at the cluster of radar signatures and heard a bunch of pilots yelling <<Fuck Belkan witchcraft!>> on the open comms. And he was almost impressed. He was like <<Enthralling>>.

“And then he switched to their radio frequency and went <<Deploy Nemo>>. And my friend Jaeger, who is a father- This man has a son, he did a PSM, released a cloud of flares and yelled <<Scatter!>>.

“And everyone flew in a different directions, we all flew in different directions. It was like that moment when Eruseans deployed MQ-99s in Scofields Plateau and they all went different ways, we all flew in different directions.

“I followed Trigger along the river, and we entered a valley, and I’m flying through the valley and there’s this narrow highway tunnel, and I thought <<I’ve never flew through a tunnel that small before>> and then I woke up in the hangar.

“On Monday, I went on a mission because that’s what we did back then. And I’m entering the AO and who do I fight, but Yellow 13 and he says to me <<Hey, were you in Shilage on Saturday?>>.

“And I said <<Negative>>, you know, like a con man.

“And he said <<Things got really out of hand. Someone destroyed the castle. Someone took apart Mihaly’s Su-30.>>.

“<<But the worst thing>> he says, <<The worst thing is that someone stole these old Voslage Air Force patches and the Sol Squadron are freaking out about it.>>.

“And I had that thought that only pilots shooting at tents and Full Band can have. Did- Did I do that?

"I figured no, I wouldn't have done that, but I was never sure until, 2 years later- Relax" He said to nuggets going wild.

"I'm doing a BFM exercise with this ace, TAC name Cipher that we also fought along with. 2 years later, 3 new Free Erusea uprisings were over by now. We're practicing basic fighter maneuvers for a while and then Cipher says to me <<Hey, come here. I want to show you something>>.

"We land and he takes me to his hangar, and then he takes me into the back section of his hangar that's closed behind a curtain. Never a good thing to have. He shows me a tiny cork board that is covered in different patches of disbanded squadrons, pillaged from different air bases over the years.

"And I said 'Why?'. 'Why do you do this?'

"And Cipher said 'Because it's the one thing you can't replace".

#ace combat #the one thing you can't replace #this fandom deserves that animatic but this is the best I can do

[davidtennantgenderenvy]

Rating Taylor Swift Albums By the Amount of Royai Songs On Them

Debut: 0/10 weak start come on Taylor you can do better

Fearless: 4/10 The Way I Loved You and Change work if you squint but we haven’t really gotten to the good stuff yet

Speak Now: 9/10 NOW WE’RE TALKING. My personal fave TS album and it gave us Mine. Haunted. Innocent. Long Live. Sparks Fly if you squint (I mean it has fire AND rain references so it counts). Also not Royai but Superman is SUCH an EdWin song I mean come on

Red: 6.5/10 The Royai songs on this album aren’t as iconic as some of the other ones but they’re still definitely there with some squintage (Sad Beautiful Tragic, The Last Time, Treacherous). Taylor’s Version improves strongly with the addition of Forever Winter which is very very very them also some lyrics in ATW 10 Minute though not the song as a whole

1989: 5/10 Not as strong as what’s to come but it DID give us I Know Places which is by far the most underrated song on the album and has Royai vibes out the WAZOO, you also have the bridge of Out of the Woods and Wonderland too if you squint

Reputation: 8.5/10 HECK YEAHHHH. This album gave us Dancing With Our Hands Tied. Call it What You Want. Don’t Blame Me. THE SONG THAT INSPIRED THE GREATEST ROYAI FIC OF ALL TIME. New Year’s Day doesn’t have a lot of basis in canon but it definitely fits fluffy fanfic Royai. I almost forgot Endgame bc I don’t care for the song musically so I never listen to it but the lyrics totally fit them

Lover: 7.5/10 This one deserves respect solely for giving us The Archer which began the long and esteemed tradition of Royai/Taylor Swift AMVs on my YouTube channel, Afterglow also works really well for Beyond the Inferno even though it’s one of the more mid songs on the album. Cornelia Street and Lover are really sweet with in-a-relationship post canon Royai, I also made a Royai/Edwin vid with ME! so that’s a thing

Folklore: 10/10 BABY THIS IS IT. THIS IS PEAK ROYAI VIBES. NOTHING ELSE WILL EVER TOP. Peace and Illicit Affairs are obviously two of the most iconic ones ever and no song will ever capture the tunnel scene better than Hoax, Cardigan spawned probably the best animatic/AMV in Royai history, Epiphany, This Is Me Trying, you could probably create some sort of scenario for almost all of the songs on this album really. There’s also ones like Exile and My Tears Ricochet that definitely have The Vibes but are too sad to think about because that would imply that they split up and my brain could not handle that. Anyways I feel like this was the album that really started the whole Royai/Taylor Swift craze and we must always respect

Evermore: 5/10 amazing amazing album but a somewhat disappointing followup to Folklore in terms of Royai Vibes, there’s several songs on here that have like, specific lines and moments that REALLY fit them or work for fanfic scenarios (Willow, Ivy, Tis the Damn Season), or Happiness which is a similar scenario to Exile and MTR on the previous album, but there’s no definitive iconic Royai song on here that captures them as a whole like a Peace, Innocent or The Archer

I worked so hard on this post plz don’t let it flop

#royai #taylor swift #roy mustang #riza hawkeye #speak now #red taylors version #1989 taylor swift #reputation #lover #folklore #evermore #fullmetal alchemist

[madhare0512]

A Comprehensive List of Spideyfist Interactions (pt.1)

hello, and welcome to my latest hyperfixation, Spideyfist (Peter Parker | Spiderman/Danny Rand | Iron Fist). this will be a comprehensive list of proof that Danny and Peter are in love or at the very least, each other’s favorites. we’re gonna go episode by episode, starting with season 1, episode 1. 

so, without further ado, welcome to “reasons Spideyfist is Canon” (featuring random commentary as i go through each episode)

warnings for: episode spoilers, season spoilers, action/injury description, unsolicited commentary, probable cussing, violence, caps lock

this part features episodes 1 through 6 of season 1

~~~

S1E1 Great Power:

- Danny isn’t in this episode and has no interactions with Peter

- but i do need to acknowledge MJ as an icon in this show

- and Harry, who was also an icon in this show

~~~

S1E2 Great Responsibility:

- okay but that course was ridiculous

- the COMPETITION presented

- okay, for serious, the first time Danny talked ABOUT Peter it was “he’s rough around the edges but not without potential” which was in response to Sam’s putting Peter down

- also Danny’s “you know what they say about a book and it’s cover” could be seen as him not wanting be judgemental, but it could also be seen as him protecting the new guy before even having MET HIM

- the BET they made over Peter lasting however long it was (Ava fucking LOST)

- oh my god the Spider-Cycle scenes... that was something else

- god, the way Danny stopped the bike with one foot on the wheel. that just screams “i wanna impress this guy and also be cool”

- he’s also the first to introduce himself and the way he does also screams “i wanna impress this guy and also be cool”

- Peter calls the team, which includes Danny, cool

- oh i forgot the Frightful Four second round fight was a part of this episode

- aww Spidey teaching them is so cute

- Danny stayed behind to help Spiderman with the Frightful Four despite being told to “protect and serve” by the person considered leader at the time

- and again, during the school/civilian introduction, Danny is the first to introduce himself

- Peter wasn’t really on board with the team being at his school until he remembered that they inadvertantly for Flash stuck in a locker and i think that’s hilarious

~~~

S1E3 Doomed: 

- Peter has developed a whole superhero themed heirarchy for his school, which really fits into the “fanboy” thing he seems to have in every adaptation, but also makes a lot of sense because he’s also a hero himself

- i know a lot of people ship Sam/Peter, but their whole rivalry thing eally throws me off. even once they calm down and work together and tease instead of antagonize, it’s always been more “best friend/brother” instead of “boyfriend”

- honorable mention of PowerFist, Luke never seems upset by the sayings/wisdom phrases Danny says

- Sam is also a fucking idiot this episode 

- upon checking in with the rest of the team, Peter checks in with Danny first. also, he seems to be trying to find common ground? “no clue what you’re doing, right?” seems like he’s trying to start a conversation almost

- the little “awesome” before Peter moves on sound equal parts encouraging and confused, like Peter’s happy but also unsure what’s going on

- Peter and Danny seem to be in window seats, which i’m counting because i count it as a parallel

- Danny’s the one to tell Peter when they’re touching down

- Danny calling Peter (and Sam) out on the bs. this is important in relationships, knowing when to call each other out, so doing so this early on counts

- second honorable mention of PowerFist: Danny and Luke run off to fight the Doombots TOGETHER instead of splitting up (i 1000% believe that they’ve been in the program the longest)

- Danny (and Luke) calling Peter (and Sam) out on the bs again, and also taking responsibility for going along with the plot at all

- the fact that Peter TAKES DANNY’S WRIST to catch his attention instead of saying his name. also, he doesn’t have a single doubt that Danny can get them through the floors. he asks if Danny can handle that, he doesn’t know a THING about the Iron Fist except that it cause a MASSIVE explosion when interacting with Klaw’s soundwaves, but he has no doubts that punching through solid steel is something Danny can actually do

- and Danny does it with NO HESITATION. NONE. NONE TO BE FOUND

- Danny doesn’t doubt Peter’s leadership. i don’t think he ever has, even in the beginning. 

- when the battle is over and the team sits down on the floor, Danny settles down right behind Peter

- this one’s more headcanon that actual canon, but i like to believe Danny stepped forward half a second before the rest of the team

- “i’ll get him” “WE will get him”

~~~

S1E4 Venom: 

- no matter what iteration you’re on or what part of the story you’re in, Peter has always, ALWAYS, cared about the lives of innocents and i think that’s fantastic

- he also doesn’t hesitate to sacrifice himself for the greater good, which is sad, but also admirable in a way

- Harry and Peter have a really good relationship, they love each other like brothers and it’s so cute

- Danny is quick to remind Peter that he isn’t alone anymore, he has a team at his back now. And he looks upset when Peter brushes him off

- Danny is also quick to defend Harry, despite not knowing him. all he knows is that Harry is Peter’s best friend and that’s enough for him

- Norman and Harry have the relationship you always see in the media where the parent is busy with work and the kid just wants the parent to pay attention to THEM instead of the parent’s job

- Danny’s the only one who doesn’t seem upset about going to Harry’s to meet up and hang out

- when Peter is frozen during the Venom!Power Man fight, Danny is the first one to jump in and try to help

- PowerFist honorable mention number three: Danny’s willing to “forget he’s a pacifist” when Luke is taken over

- Peter’s encouragement to Danny while Danny’s jumping around avoiding Venom

- assuming all of them could hear Venom’s thoughts, Danny’s the only one who thinks to deliver the warning that “hey, Spidey, the evil goop thing that’s attacking us is actualy after you” 

- two things about when Danny’s released from Venom’s control: one, holy shit, Danny released HIMSELF from Venom’s control, and two, Peter decides that Venom is done hurting his team after it manages to get ahold of Danny specifically

- Danny doesn’t even TRY to attack Venom after he “reunites” with Peter. he tries to talk first and foremost, uhh protective much? worried much?

- also, Venom ties Danny up and keeps him out of the fight, which can be attributed to Danny being able to knock Venom away from its host, but i fully believe that Venom would’ve just knocked Danny out for that, it’s not really that intelligent, just big and violent. no, Venom SPECIFICALLY uses its weird goppy shit to tie Danny up and bind him to a wall, keeping him out of the fight and away from the action. preventing him from getting hurt when/if he tries to attack

- Luke and Sam insult Peter’s appearance, things that can’t be changed. Ava insults Peter’s intelligence, something Peter works hard to maintain. Danny goes for a safer option and chooses “3-dollar haircut”, which is easily fixed or changed and hardly much of an insult

-~~~

S1E5 Flight of the Iron Spider:

- okay the way they protray Tony here makes me upset because Tony’s not some playboy, it’s the mask he wears to the public, but maybe i’m just biased to MCU!Tony

- Peter brings up Danny on this trip, meaning one of two things: he told Danny he was going and invited him along (declined) or he was just thinking of Danny and either way, that’s GAY

- Danny is also the ONLY one Peter brings up on this trip

- during the argument scene, the camera specifically focuses in on Ava, Luke, and Peter making funny faces. we’ve already established that Peter isn’t Sam’s biggest fan, which is the explanation for him not being focused on, but what’s the excuse for Danny?

- also, during the arguement scene, Danny and Peter are on the same side of the table, implying they’re on the same side of the arguement

- during the training scene, Danny’s the only one who suggests they continue to wait for Peter

- regardless of wha the quote actually means, the fact still remains that Danny took a shot at Sam’s leadership skills when Sam suggested he should be team leader. “a man cannot lead before he’s found himself,” implying that a) Sam doesn’t know the full extent of his power or have any clue who or what he wants to be and b) that Peter knows who and what he is and is the best leader for their team because NONE of them really know the full extent of their powers as evidenced by their training sessions and later episodes showing them discovering new abilities

- Luke and Ava look mildly aggravated by Sam, Danny looks actually distraught at the vote to change the team to “Team Nova”

- Peter points at Danny when saying “our problems” instead of sweeping his hand around to indicate everyone

- “what is he doing here?” well gee Ava, it’s almost like Spiderman is STILL a solo act who goes where he wants and fights who he pleases, just like his deal with Fury agreed to. he probably saw it on the news or something, use that brain of yours, ma’am

- Danny offers sage advice that will make sense to everyone later in effort to help. he’s also the only one who doesn’t make any wisecracks about Peter’s abilities in that suit to anyone. he says everything he needs to right to Peter’s face, not behind his back

- Danny also doesn’t insult Peter for his choices, just gives him a hard truth to chew on while the others insult Peter

- Peter’s retort to what Danny tells him is exactly what you’d expect of someone who doesn’t like what he’s heard, which adds credibility to it

- Danny and Luke glance at each other when Peter says “someone’s gotta save him”, implying they’re going to help in any way they can. also, honorable PowerFist mention number four

- Danny’s the one who sees that Peter has changed and knows that he’s no longer trying to be like Stark. he tells Peter to bring the suit when Ava suggests they leave it behind

- Peter actually listened to Danny, as evidenced by the callback to what Danny told him previously

- i forget sometimes how much i love Danny, but it shows in moments like when Danny busts through a concrete wall and says “knock knock” all calm and serene like he didn’t just BUST THROUGH A CONCRETE WALL

- Danny never doubts that Peter can fire up the dimensional thing in the final fight against Photon /Parks. when Luke protests, asks if Danny really thinks so, Danny doesn’t dignify him with a response

- Peter acknowledges that DANNY was right, and not anyone else. every gets an apology, but Danny gets the special add-ons

- Danny let Peter put his elbow on Danny’s shoulder and KEEP IT THERE until Danny moves

- Danny teases Peter with the same retort Peter gave him in the streets

- the Iron Spider suit makes me nervous, but the backpack part is really cool

~~~

S1E6 Why I Hate Gym Class: 

- this one’s more Ava-and-Peter focused, so you may get more headcanon than canon, but i’m gonna do my best here

- i understand that Ava wants to be the best version of herself, the whole “keep the tiger under control thing”, but her obsession with training doesn’t really apply to the kid who’s been on the streets a year before she even picked up her suit

- Mr. Jager is horrifying

- so, the “finalist” thing is bogus, we all knew this, but the choices where kind of... odd. Flash was chosen because of the potential, specifically, the hurdle jumping part where we see Taskmaster drawing comparisons between Spderman and Flash. Harry could also be easily explained by he and Peter being best friends, they’ve probably seen each other go through gym class a lot, probably picked up thing from each other along the way. Danny, however, doesn’t make much sense. sure, you can account for “build and height”, but a) Peter’s taller than Danny and b) Danny doesn’t fight a thing like Peter nor does he have the experience and close relationship that would allow for Danny and Peter to have similar styles. the only thing that would make sense to me here is the whole martial arts thing, until you take into account that people who are attracted to each other subconsciously mimic each other in order to seem more appealing to their desired person. 

- PowerFist honorable mention number five: the silent communication that happened between Danny and Flash when Ava started in on Peter about the obstical course

- Peter mentions that “at least Flash and Harry have Danny here to protect them”

- after being slammed into a locker and thrown on the ground, it’s perfectly resonable for Danny to pass out, but since when didn’t hear Danny actually hit the ground, it’s my belief that he was sedated, not knocked unconscious

- it’s also my belief that the entire team is protective of Danny as someone who spent almost his entire life up in the mountains with an entirely different social group and very different expectations

- we skip immediately from catching Taskmaster to the news coverage of the rescue, so we don’t know how Danny was found. it’s my belief that Peter’s the one who found him. this is when Peter realizes how much Danny means to him. and yes, Danny was mother-henned into going to medical

#ultimate spiderman #the ultimate spiderman #thoughts and headcanons #mad writes #things i write #spideyfist #spiderman/iron fist #analysis #season analysis #season 1 #peter parker #danny rand #luke cage #ava ayala #sam alexander #spiderman #iron fist #power man #white tiger #nova #getting together #character analysis #with honorable mentions for powerfist #media commentary

[airacomehome]

A couple of exciting announcements as we roll closer to one month before release:

Chapter II is currently being revised and edited for spelling mistakes, poor wording, inconsistencies, etc. I'm about... oh, I wanna say a third of the way done?

I've added a few extra sound effects, music tracks, and audio customization options to help make the game more immersive for longer play sessions! I'm still working on adding a few more that I think will be fitting, but almost all of them have been added!

I figured out how splashscreens and presplashes works! The game now has a proper loading screen, as well as a content warning message before the game begins for some sensitive content. I'll copy and paste the warning here so you guys can see it for yourselves:

"Aira Come Home: Chapter II contains heavy swearing, illustrated blood, violence, death, and portrayal of weapons in a school setting. Reader discretion is advised."

(I forgot how crazy this game was before editing it, so I felt like adding this was a necessary precaution.)

If everything goes well, the trailer for Aira Come Home: Chapter II should be going live December 1st! Not only will it be posted here and on Twitter, but it will also be posted to the new YouTube channel! Find it here!

On that note, the itch.io page for Chapter II should also be going public on December 1st! The game, of course, will not be available for download until the 22nd, but the page itself has a description, screenshots, and other information to get you hooked!

Finally, the app icon has been redone as to not contain any spoilers for the game, and I think it's worth posting here!

That's all from me for now. If you're interested in trying out Aira Come Home: Chapter I, or if you want to replay it before Chapter II's release, you can always find it on our itch.io page!

airacomehome.itch.io

Take care, Enstarries! Aira~bu! 🩵

#aira come home #ensemble stars #ensemble stars fan game #enstars #enstars fan game #renpy #renpy visual novel #visual novel