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harringtonlovers · 1 month

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burnin’ for you | a stancy fic

pairing: steve harrington x nancy wheeler

warnings/tags: rockstar!steve harrington x high school sweetheart&rockstar gf!nancy wheeler, they’re sooooo in love, steve’s biggest show, lots and lots of fluff!

summary: steve’s biggest show is about to take place and he’s more nervous than ever. but, nancy can’t help but calm his nerves

word count: ~3k

notes: happy stancy week!!!! todays prompt: au!!! shoutout to @echoing-oursong for this stancy week <3

ao3

Nancy’s eyes scanned the audience. Teenage girls crowded the barricade, pushing and shoving begging to get a taste of their favorite band. Nancy’s fingers tapped against her forearm, tracing her red-hot nails against her leather jacket. His leather jacket. The same jacket she’s worn since senior year of high school when she found it buried in his closet.

The dark fabric hugged her skin, engulfing her in warmth to combat her goosebumps. Nancy was nervous. It was her first time getting to witness the concert. Standing on the sidelines, she felt awkward with a backstage pass draped around her neck. The thin fabric of the pass made her neck itch, hairs standing up whenever a gust of wind from the nearby fans blew.

Backstage was a whole different experience. He brought her there, crowning her with the lanyard. He showed her around, keeping his hands steady on her waist for two reasons: to keep her safe and show everyone Nancy was his. The small act always made her blush, her fair skin exploding in shades of red and energy jolting throughout her body.

Her eyes stayed glued to the crowd, trying to steady her breathing. The sounds echoed out, tunnel vision on the soft chanting and quiet conversations between friends in the crowd. Nancy’s eyesight grew to shake, searching back and forth. Her heart began to race, thumping against her chest as she continued to rub her arms for some comfort.

The crowd was growing antsy. Nancy couldn’t help but grin at their reactions, pushing and shoving each other and trying not to drop their phones. It reminded her of times she would frequent concerts with her friends, jittery to see the main act in all their glory.

“Hi,” A voice whispered from behind, breathing into her ear.

Nancy gasped, spinning around to see who spooked her. Her eyes immediately calmed at the sight of him, the butterflies in her stomach erupting.

She couldn’t help but catch sight of his grin. Lips curled, soft and screaming at Nancy to kiss them. Then she noticed his eyes, dark and full of love. Nancy could practically see his heart beating out of his chest, indicating his love for the girl.

“Steve.” Nancy finally spoke, voice still full of innocence just like from the day they met.

The boy towered over her, staring down at his girlfriend. Hair tossed back, a bit shorter on the sides yet thick with dark locks. The freckles on his neck remained small and good enough to kiss. Nancy loved to nibble on them, marking her territory in the most innocent way imaginable. She noticed the faint splotches on his neck, making her smile from ear to ear.

“Hi, princess.” Steve purred, leaning down and planting a gentle kiss on her forehead. Nancy exhaled, eyes closing as his lips lingered on her face.

“Stop with the nicknames.” She shoved his chest playfully, gasping softly as he caught her wrist.

Steve’s hand lingered, thumb caressing against her pulse. He pulled Nancy in, their bodies pressed against each other’s. Steve still held a firm grip on her wrist, his smirk growing the more Nancy’s breath grew shallower. Her painted red lips made his heart swell, emotions coursing through his veins at the mere sight of her. All Nancy had to do was exist and it was enough for Steve to confess his feelings for her all over again.

“Never.” Steve teased, his breath hot against her forehead. He traveled down, lips parting against her cheek and peppering kisses along her face. Nancy squirmed, soft giggles escaping from her mouth.

“Steve!” She exclaimed, trying her best to be released from his grip. However, it was no use because her giggles made Steve hungry for more, the kissing growing short and feverish.

“Hmm?” He asked with sarcasm dripping in his question. He pulled back for a moment, coming face to face with his girlfriend. Steve’s familiar grin returned, eyes glued to the only thing that mattered most in the world: Nancy Wheeler. “I can’t help the nicknames, I think they’re fun.”

“Okay, princess.” Nancy giggled, working up the courage to wrap her arms around his neck.

Steve followed her lead, his hands gripping her waist. He walked her backward, leaning Nancy up against the nearest wall. Nancy followed suit, eyes never leaving Steve’s. “You’re beautiful, Nancy Wheeler.” His words were drenched in honey, smooth and sweet.

Nancy arched as his hand reached for the small of her back. He drew small circles, inhaling the sweet scent of Nancy as he leaned down. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

“Don’t say it like it’s a bad thing.” Steve retorted.

Reality snuck back in the moment the sound of someone clearing their throat entered the area. The couple looked over, locking eyes with their friends and fellow bandmates.

“You gonna stop canoodling your girlfriend so we can perform?” Robin asked, adjusting her earpiece.

Nancy and Steve looked at one another, exchanging soft giggles before releasing each other. Steve moved first, running a hand through his hair while Nancy pressed down on her skirt.

Nancy’s baby blue eyes lingered on the band, watching as they did their preshow rituals. She couldn’t help but watch Billy the most, considering his superstitions revolved around the fact that he had to count to 100, taking a sip from his flask whenever he hit each 10 mark.

Steve’s eyes fell onto Nancy, his jitters erupting for a completely different reason. He couldn’t help but smile at the fact that she was wrapped up in his leather jacket. His eyes squinted, admiring the way Nancy’s hair cascaded down her back and was pulled back into a loose half up half down hairstyle. She tied the look together with a white bow, the soft color matching her tones of red.

Nancy felt a pair of eyes on her, causing her to look toward the source. She found him, standing there in his fitted white t-shirt and light-washed jeans. Hair floppy and untouched, yet sat perfectly upon his head. Nancy was always jealous of how effortless Steve was. He had this suave complexion, smooth and cool to the touch. It didn’t help that he played guitar for a living and grew up surrounded by the best music of all time. On top of that, he owned countless instruments to learn, scoring extra ‘cool’ points.

Yet, Steve picked her.

Nancy, who seemed to be too sizes too small to fit into his jacket. Nancy, shy and soft-spoken when it comes to meeting new people. Nancy, who came off as a total bitch when in reality she was an unapologetic introvert. Nancy, who surprisingly knew her way around a gun and smoked cigarettes like it was no one’s business.

The appeal to Steve started early in life. Middle school, Steve had made his way over to Hawkins, Nancy’s hometown. He moved with his family, settling in the small town and immediately earning himself a spot in the Hawkins Hall of Fame. Steve took the world by storm, with girls wrapped around his finger and boys wanting any chance to be close to him.

Yet, Nancy stuck out the most to him.

The mutual pining between the two started slow. Nancy developed her crush the moment she laid eyes on him. It was his hair and dark eyes that exposed her to her sexual awakening. At that moment, Nancy always left a spot in her heart for Steve. She dated around, but no one ever quite filled the void of Steve Harrington. It was hard for her to let go of her crush, thus forcing her to squash it deep, deep into her heart. On the other hand, Steve’s love came much later in life. It took him until his sophomore year of high school to truly see Nancy in all of her glory.

Their friendship developed, quickly turning into requited feelings for one another. Steve taught her how to play guitar on the weekends while Nancy tutored him twice during the week. They watched movies together, which escalated to the point where Steve insisted he take Nancy to see the new Molly Ringwald movie. She had been Nancy’s favorite actress.

The endless nights turned into occasional sleepovers, Nancy’s thin body draped over Steve’s sometimes. They shared their first kiss during a rewatching of Sixteen Candles. Steve couldn't help but kiss her, especially with the way her eyes glowed in the shadow of the television set. They remained casual with one another, continuing their movie marathons, and never shared a kiss ever again.

But, next thing she knew, Nancy was sitting on Steve Harrington’s lap in the back of his BMW in the drive-in. The faint sound of The Smiths played in the background, making Nancy hot and heavy for Steve. Their relationship bloomed, sprouting into what it is today. Years later, they were still as in love back then as they are now.

Nancy can’t control the blushes whenever Steve enters the room. And Steve could barely contain his excitement whenever Nancy looked his way. It was endearing yet disgusting to Steve’s bandmates.

The only one who found it charming was Robin. She loved Nancy, adopting her as her built-in best friend. It did help that Robin had been there from the beginning, right with Steve and Nancy. Steve and Robin started their band from scratch and eventually worked their way up into the college scene of garage bands. Thus, recruiting new members to their team and recording a few demos.

It was Nancy’s idea to do an album. Steve grew up with the idea of becoming a rockstar, but he thought it would just turn into a hobby. However, his luck was changed the day Nancy Wheeler walked into his music life, brought passion into his world and word vomited all over pages and pages of notebook papers. She was his muse in a sense, but everyone around him knew that. It was endearing, sweet and everyone knew Nancy wouldn't be leaving anytime soon.

The world would crash and burn, according to Robin.

“Are you nervous?” Nancy asked, staring at Steve with her signature doe eyes.

Steve began to crack his knuckles—pointer, ring, pointer, middle, thumb, pinky, pointer—his pre-show ritual. Nancy could sense the shift in the atmosphere, Steve’s eyebrows pinching together with a matching pursed lip. “Of course not.” Of course he was.

Their band had blown up out of the blue. At work, Nancy had heard their song playing for the first time on the radio. She tried her hardest not to scream her head off considering she was in the quiet comfort of her desk at the Hawkins Post. It took everything in her, squeezing the countertop and biting back the smile. However, not even fifteen seconds in, she dialed Steve’s number and told him to turn on the radio station. Pulling the phone back, Nancy couldn't help but giggle at the sounds of yelling on the other line.

Since then, his career had taken off. Steve became one of the biggest musicians of the 80s, earning a spot next to Wham! and Madonna at the top of the charts. While the band dabbled more in the rock side, Steve always added the whimsical style of pop into the mix with his riffs and sultry voice. Everything about Steve screamed heartthrob, thus bringing in girls from all over the world to see his shows. The band thrived every night on tour, girls fawning themselves at Steve, Eddie and Billy while Robin kept her eyes rolling whenever a man even looked her way. She was all about the music.

“Its okay to be nervous.” Nancy spoke, wrapping her gentle arms around his waist. She rested her forehead against his back, not able to reach his shoulder despite being in wedges.

Steve chuckled, causing Nancy to laugh as well. Her head vibrated against his back, Steve melting into her embrace. “I know, Nance. I just don't know why I still get nervous.”

“It's a rush. You're going to do just fine.”

“Is it because it's the biggest show of the tour?”

“Maybe.” Nancy nodded against his back. The show was in New York City tonight. Of course it was the biggest show.

“Am I gonna do good?”

“Of course, Steve.”

“And if I don't?”

Nancy sighed and spun Steve around by his waist. They were face to face once again, Nancy’s lips curled into the gentlest smile. Steve’s eyes searched her baby blue ones, trying to find the one sliver of hope that Nancy would give him. And his prayers were answered the minute her lips parted to speak the words he'd been dying to hear all day.

“Then you don't. My perception of you won't change, not even in the slightest.”

Just like that, the weight was lifted off his shoulders. His body relaxed, his forehead falling upon hers. Nancy felt her cheeks heat up as the soft touch of his eyelashes cascaded across her fair skin. His hand crept up, cupping her crimson cheek with his calloused hands. He began to draw circles against her soft skin, his eyes fluttering shut. Nancy followed in pursuit, her hands crawling up to graze his stumbled jawline. “You’re my best friend, Wheeler.” Steve said, his words whipped.

With a giggle, Nancy’s fingers trailed along his jawline, tilting his chin so their noses touched. “You’re my best friend, Harrington.”

Their lips brushed against one another’s, the world growing tender just for them. Steve felt a rush of gratitude through his chest, thankful for Nancy and everything she's done for him. Being a constant in his life and reminding him that all of the pain and hardships were worth it. Anything was worth it if it meant having Nancy Wheeler in his life.

Nancy sealed the space with a kiss, soft yet passionate. A kiss that made Steve tingle all over and Nancy’s legs shaky when he returned the gesture. It was a reassuring type of kiss. One that told Steve that everything would be okay, and one that told Nancy that he loves you no matter what. Nancy could taste the scent of vanilla off his tongue as Steve begged for entrance, his lips parting against Nancy’s.

Vanilla had always been her favorite flavor.

The two embraced one another, hands roaming each other’s faces and holding the other as close as they could. Steve was seconds away from ditching the show to continue this session, taking Nancy back to the dressing room to show her a performance all on his own. The world seemed to calm down around them, reminding them that they were each other’s worlds at the end of the day. Everything always came back to them, Steve and Nancy.

“Harrington!”

The world shattered, Steve pulling his lips away from the love of his life. Nancy immediately missed the touch of his warm lips against hers, but she knew they had to wrap things up since it was Steve’s moment to shine on stage. The rest of the band stood in their marks, waiting impatiently for Steve to finish his makeout session.

“That's my cue,” Steve said breathlessly, not wanting to leave Nancy for a second.

But the girl smiled, reassuring him that it was okay. As long as he came back, thats all that mattered to her. Nancy knew Steve would come running to her after his show and remind her why she fell in love with him all over again.

“Go get ‘em, tiger.” Nancy planted a kiss on his cheek, leaving behind a red marking in the shape of a kiss.

Steve chuckled, knowing he would keep that stain on his cheek the whole show, just as a gentle reminder that he did have someone waiting for him backstage. Someone he's been enamored with since he was in high school.

And just like that, Steve slipped through her fingertips. He adjusted his earpiece as he made his way over toward the curtains, ready to put on one of the best shows of his life. The band exchanged looks, giving one another high fives and winks. They were all counting on this show. They all needed each other.

The band went first. The crowd erupted in cheers as they ran onto the stage, bringing the energy needed to continue on with the rest of the show. Steve watched in silence, his eyes switching back and forth between the audience and his bandmates. Moments went by and it was his time.

Yet, he took a moment to himself.

Not one that was all for him.

His head turned back to the girl he loved, catching a glimpse of her cheery red lips smiling as wide as the moon. The way her baby blue eyes flashed with contentment, aroused with excitement to see her boyfriend shine in the spotlight.

Nancy returned the familiar gaze. One so sultry yet sweet, the reminders of his love flooding her mind and washing all over her body. Her skin couldn’t help but erupt in goosebumps at the sight of his lopsided smile, locking eyes with the man of her dreams. The slight squint of her eyes caused her corners to crease, fighting back tears of joy at the sight of Steve.

Steve gave a nod toward Nancy, his eyes finding it difficult to look away. But he had to go and perform for his fans, for his band, for himself, and for Nancy. He basked in the glory of the moment, soaking up every inch of Nancy to get the perfect mental image. It was hard to not look at her. The way her hair cascaded down her shoulders, the loosening of his jacket wrapped tight around her body.

Without a second, he turned back and shook his shoulders out. Before Nancy could reach out for him, Steve was on stage.

The uproar of the stadium filled the room, causing Steve to chuckle to himself as he strutted down the stage. He waved and smiled, putting on his best face. Something about the crowd made his heart swell, reminding him why he was doing what he loved. Sharing this moment with people who loved his music, loved his songwriting and loved the band as a whole. It was surreal to be in this moment.

Nancy exhaled, slowly making her way toward the side of the stage. She remained hidden behind the curtain, careful not to show off herself in fear of people seeing her. Not that she was scared, but it wasn’t her moment to shine. She got to do that for journalism and her birthday, but tonight was about Steve.

Everything always went back to him.

Steve’s steady hands gripped the microphone, looking out into the crowd. His eyes gleamed with excitement, ready to perform for everyone. All nerves were thrown out the window, replaced with a sense of pride and motivation to continue.

“Hi everyone,” He spoke into the microphone, a bit of feedback following which only made him chuckle.

Once again, the stadium screamed for more. The bright lights blinded Steve a bit, causing his eyes to squint at the sight of everyone. He waved to the closest people he could see, flashing a cheeky grin. His eyes glanced behind him, catching sight of him on the screen. “Oh wow, look at that. Sorry to those who can see all my acne, oof.” He chuckled, pointing up at the screen in joy.

This only excited the crowd, faint mentions that Steve was wrong or that his acne wasn’t noticeable at all. “Thank you, thank you.” He nodded, his breathing shallow into the microphone.

The crowd went still, all eyes on Steve. He exhaled slowly, taking the microphone off of the stand. The boy waltzed around the stage, taking the moment to admire everyone who showed up for him. All the fans and their love filled the room, and Steve could feel it all on stage, especially at the sight of all the posters.

“Let’s just hop on in, yeah?” He asked, strutting around the stage in his blue jeans and white top. Steve looked casual yet desirable, his hair tousled and jeans resting just below his waist. It was arousing, causing Nancy to squirm a bit.

Something about Steve on stage made her crazy, eager to get her hands all over him. But, she stayed focused on his walk, the way the crowd soaked up his smooth energy. No wonder girls fawned over him. Everything about Steve was sexy, his personality just made him ten times more attractive.

“This one,” He paused, licking his lips. “This one is dedicated to a very special someone.”

Steve’s eyes turned to the side stage for a moment, his smile immediately growing at the sight of Nancy. His breath was caught in his throat, unable to concentrate or remember that he was at a concert. He had a show to do. Yet, Nancy always had this way of bringing him in, like a siren calling out to lost pirates.

Nancy’s cheeks erupted in a shade of pink as if her face had just been pinched to death. Her heart began to race, her body melting at the sight of Steve’s chocolate brown eyes on hers. She flashed him a sweet grin as a way of reminding him that she loved him, but he had to continue his show.

Steve snapped out of it, his attention going back toward the crowd. Nancy could see the crowd looking over her way, causing her to shrink in embarrassment. She loved being Steve’s girlfriend, but she was never used to the limelight. It took a while for her to warm up to it because it was always easier for her to cheer on Steve from the sidelines.

As the bass guitar started going, the audience began to scream. It was one of their bigger hits, titled Burnin’ For You, so it was always a fan favorite.

Steve began to tap his foot to the beat, following along with the soft sounds of Robin’s keyboard. The band began to play in unison, Steve prancing around the stage as the introduction to the song played.

Nancy watched, laughing softly to herself at the sight of Steve. He was light on his feet, smile as bright as the sun. It warmed her heart watching him on stage, following his heart as he got lost in the song. It was an unusual experience, one Nancy would never witness. But she was okay with that, especially if it meant Steve got to soak it all up.

He deserved every ounce of success being thrown his way.

Lips to the microphone, Steve began to sing along to the song. Nancy softly whispered back the words, clutching tightly onto the leather jacket.

His eyes found their way back to Nancy, pupils expanding at the sight of her. Steve had written this song for Nancy a year or so ago, and it still remains relevant to their relationship today.

Just for a moment, the world became just the two of them. Steve’s eyes on Nancy, Nancy’s smug grin, and cheeks of embarrassment. He knew how to make her nervous, and it was his favorite thing to do.

Nancy was his number one fan, and Steve knew that. Hence why he always found himself looking at her, singing the words to her. Everything reminded him of Nancy, despite the fact there was a whole audience there to watch him.

Steve and Nancy found solace in one another, stealing glances and singing back to one another. Their love was pure and fiery, constantly inspiring Steve and providing comfort in Nancy’s life. The last thing they ever thought of doing was changing that.

Especially if it meant Nancy got to be a rockstar girlfriend for the rest of her life.

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chrisbitchtree · 1 year

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Time After Time

Now that the names have been revealed, here's my fic for the Harringrove Holiday Exchange 2022!

You can also read it on AO3 here!

***

December 31st, 1985. New Year’s Eve. One of the biggest party days of the entire year, and for the first time in Steve’s recent memory, he had no wild, over the top plans for the evening ahead. No parties to throw or attend, no clear indication that his night would end up with him buried inside a female classmate, whispering lust filled lies into her ear, or puking his guts out in someone’s parent’s rosebushes, both of which had happened on New Year’s Eve in the past, sometimes on the same night.

Most of his former Hawkins High classmates were home for the winter holidays, and once word had spread that the former king of Hawkins High was working at Family Video, they’d all stopped by to gawk and rub their fancy college educations in his face, but none had deemed their former King Steve worthy of an invite to the parties he knew they were throwing.

So no, Steve would not be seeking out any action that night. His plans for the evening were to finish up his hectic closing shift at Family Video, helping families make last minute selections for movie nights, and then pick up Robin and a large pizza so they could head back to his place and drink cheap champagne and watch a movie marathon of their own on the giant TV in his parents’ den. He looked forward to finally watching Back to the Future while not fucked up on Russian truth serum.

***

The night was great. He had a ton of fun with Robin, as he always did, talking shit about his former and her current classmates, bemoaning their pathetic lack of love lives, and guzzling cheap champagne while wearing the party hats and blowing on the noisemakers she’d bought, plus, he’d loved the adventures of Marty McFly even more the second, much more lucid, time around.

He let Robin paint his nails and put eyeshadow on him, like she always begged him to let her do, once they’d cracked open the drinks and he’d had a few glasses. She cooed over how beautiful he looked, laughing as she took Polaroids of his new look. At 11:50pm, they’d flipped over to the live feed of the ball drop, in Times Square. At 11:59pm, Tears for Fears ended their set, and the countdown started.

His arm around Robin’s shoulder, Steve envisioned a fresh start for everyone involved in Starcourt. A chance to leave everything that had happened this year behind and lead normal lives for the first time in what felt like forever. It had been a difficult seven months since everything had happened, since they’d watched Billy Hargrove die right in front of them. He’d personally never been a fan of Hargrove, but he’d saved their lives that day, and a mix of guilt and sadness washed over Steve every time he thought about the other boy and the life he’d missed out on.

Just as they were about to join the crowd in shouting “Happy New Year!”, the live broadcast was replaced with an infomercial, a smiling woman with big blond hair listing the features of the newest model of Dustbuster.

Steve and Robin looked at each other in confusion, but they didn’t really think much of it. There must have been a glitch in the feed, and they’d had to replace it with something at the very last second. They played a few rounds of cards as they finished off the last of the champagne, then Steve supported Robin’s drunken form as she made her way into the guest bedroom. Tucking the blankets around her, he said a silent thanks for the addition of her to his life that year. He really didn’t know what he would do without her.

All seemed well as he went back downstairs and made sure the doors were all locked and changed the calendar over to the new 1986 one that his mother had left out on the counter, then shucked his jeans and sweater, leaving himself in just his underwear and a t-shirt to sleep in. Cocooned in his fluffy duvet, he found that sleep came to him easily, and he nodded off thinking of the year ahead, hoping that with help from Robin and Dustin, he’d be able to get into, at best state college, and at worst, register for some classes at a community college while he figured his shit out.

***

The first sign that something was off came as he was making breakfast for Robin and himself the next morning. Wanting to let her sleep, he’d walked silently past the guest room, quietly pulling out a pan and mixing up pancake batter. Looking for company as he cooked, he turned the radio his mom kept on the counter on low.

“It’s 9am on December 30th…” the radio host shouted. Steve almost spilled the batter as he turned and looked at the radio, sure he’d misheard, or the DJ had said the wrong thing. He shook his head, returning to the task at hand, flipping bacon and digging through the cupboard and fridge to see what he could put in the pancakes.

He went to wake Robin so he could ask her if she wanted raspberries or chocolate chips, but found the guest bedroom empty, the bed completely untouched. He glanced at the ensuite bathroom, but found the door open and the light off, no Robin in sight. Maybe she’d woken early and headed to the living room or ditched him and went home to sleep off her hangover in peace.

When he didn’t find her there, he walked back to the kitchen and picked up the phone, intending to dial her home number, hoping to find her there without arousing suspicion in her parents. They already weren’t big fans of Steve’s, as they assumed that he was Robin’s older, deadbeat boyfriend, not just her trusted confident and best friend.

As he was about to pick up the phone and dial, he noticed that the calendar was still set to December 1985, all the days crossed off except the 30th and 31st. That was odd, he was sure that he’d put up the new one his mother had left out before he’d gone to bed the night before. He turned, finding the 1986 one laying on the counter where his mother had left it.

Before he could give any more thought to it, the phone started to ring. “Harrington residence, Steven speaking,” he greeted the caller, as instructed by his mother at an early age.

“Hey Steve,” Dustin replied, sounding, in retrospect, way too casual for the words that were about to leave his mouth. “I think we have a problem. As you may or may not have noticed, we seem to be going back in time.”

He dropped the phone in shock, needing a moment to think things over before he could respond. So, this wasn’t just a weird dream, or if it was, he wasn’t the only one having it. It was upsetting and strangely comforting at the exact same time. A third option, one involving Dustin paying off the radio host to say the wrong date and breaking into Steve’s house to switch back the calendar flitted briefly through his head, but even for Henderson, who lived for playing tricks on Steve, that would be a lot, and a big chunk out of the allowance that he was putting aside to save for a new telescope, so Steve chose to believe him for the time being.

He picked the phone back up and let Dustin explain that they weren’t the only two experiencing this. He’d already spoken to Lucas and Will, who reported similar disruptions to the countdown the night before, and they were calling Mike and Max while Dustin spoke to Steve.

They agreed that everyone would meet at Steve’s in an hour, and then Steve let Dustin go so he could call Robin. Again, the phone rang before he could pick it up to dial. Before he could even greet the caller, Robin was shouting into his ear.

“Have you talked to Keith today, Steve? I think he’s going nuts. He just called me and asked me why I wasn’t there to open the store at 9, but it’s New Year’s Day! We’re closed, but he’s trying to tell me that it’s the 30th! Also, do you remember driving me home last night? I woke up in my own bed, and I don’t remember how I got there, and I’m really hoping that you don’t tell me you drove drunk. You didn’t, did you?”

When she finally paused to take a breath, Steve cut in, explaining what everyone else had experienced, telling her to go to work and act as if everything was normal, and that he’d fill her in later.

Seemingly unsure of how to reply, Robin had let him go, telling him in a shaky voice that she’d do that.

The third call came minutes later, as Steve was still trying to wrap his head around what was happening.

“Hello, Harrington residence, Steven speaking.”

“Uh, hi Steve, it’s Max?” Max whispered into the phone. “I know this is going to sound crazy, but I just heard a knock on my window a few minutes ago, and when I looked, Billy was standing there.” She sounded like she’d been crying, but he could hear the smile in her voice.

“You know, Max,” Steve sighed, rubbing his temple with his free hand. “That’s not actually the craziest thing that’s happened today.”

***

Less than an hour later, the entire party and a seemingly alive Billy Hargrove were sitting around his living room. Before Steve could say anything, Hargrove was squinting at him.

“Are you wearing eyeshadow, Harrington? And are your nails painted? What have you been getting up to since I died?”

“You show up, out of the blue, since months after you died, and what you want to talk about is why I’m wearing eyeshadow?”

Billy gave him a look, motioning to Steve to answer.

Steve could already feel a headache coming on. “Robin came over last night…” Billy promptly cut him off.

“Oh, that’s the kind of kinky shit you and your girl do together.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Steve had half a mind to punch him, but took a deep, calming breath instead.

Max punched Billy in the arm, and he gave her a look, but thankfully, he shut up.

“So,” Steve said, “are you going to tell us what exactly happened here? Last time we saw you, you were laying dead on the floor of the mall with a hole through your chest.”

“Like I Max earlier,” Billy replied, “I don’t know what happened. I opened my eyes, and I was laying in the snow in the middle of the woods out near the quarry. No clue how I got there.”

Before long, they were all arguing about why they were going back in time, and what the reason was for Billy’s return.

The one thing they could all agree on was that it had to be connected to the Upside Down in some way. There was no way that it could be just a weird coincidence that they were seemingly the only ones that were going back in time. Judging by Keith’s reaction to Robin not showing up for work, they could only assume that no one else had been sucked into it.

From his seat on the corner of the large sectional, Will piped up. “We need to make a plan to defeat the Mindflayer, if it even is the Mindflayer this time and not something stronger this time around.”

“Haven’t we had enough heroics?” Billy sighed from his position standing with his arms crossed. “What is this thing’s obsession with us? Was getting possessed, stabbed, and dying for half a year not enough?”

Steve was not in the mood for Billy’s shit right now. He’d been looking forward to leaving this all behind, and knew it was the same for everyone else. “No, Hargrove” Steve replied, shaking his head. “We can’t just ignore that thing. You’ve seen firsthand what it’s capable of. We need to shut that shit down, and we need to do it as soon as possible.”

“And who put you in charge, princess?” Billy challenged, advancing on Steve, a sneer on his face.

Steve put his hands up in mock surrender. “Woah, Hargrove. No one put me in charge, but someone has to take the lead on this. Believe me when I say I know no one wants to deal with this thing again, but for better or for worse, we’ve clearly been summoned to deal with this thing again, and I’m not going to have the death of a bunch of residents of Hawkins on my conscience. I couldn’t imagine.”

Steve regretted the words as they were leaving his mouth. Hargrove’s lips quivered momentarily, and his face went uncharacteristically pale before he could steel his expression into something meaner.

The blond boy turned and started walking out of the room, towards the front door, Max hot on his heels, glaring at Steve over her shoulder. Steve moved to stop him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Billy…” he started, but Hargrove twisted out of Steve’s hold.

“Don’t you dare fucking talk to me about this again, Harrington. You’re right. You can never even imagine how it felt to know that I was responsible for all those people dying. Whatever your stupid little plan is, I want no part in it. Understand?”

Steve nodded, dumbstruck, watching Max and Billy walk out the door. Hopper followed with El, probably to give Billy and Max a ride home. There wasn’t anything else Steve could do at the moment other than go back in there and try to beg for forgiveness from Billy and Max later. He had bigger fish to fry right now.

Thankfully, in his absence, the others had started back up their theorizing and plotting, Dustin writing everything down as quickly as he could in a notebook he had open on his lap. They all politely ignored what had just happened. Try as they might though, they didn’t really get much accomplished before Steve had to head into work. If the Mindflayer wanted to fuck with them, then where was it? It had never been shy about showing up in Hawkins before.

***

When he got to Family Video, Steve gave Robin the rundown on everything that had happened at their meeting, and with Billy and Max. She agreed that it was best to try to let the Billy situation blow over a bit before he approached the blond again. Robin stayed his whole shift, and between customers, they tried to keep plotting, but they didn’t come up with much either.

At about 8pm, Hopper called to report that he had Billy at his house for the night, away from prying eyes, and that he’d done a sweep of the town with Will and El in tow, and neither of them had been able to sense anything Upside Down related going on, but they all agreed to keep their eyes and ears open for anything suspicious.

***

The next morning, as soon as he woke up, Steve raced downstairs, heart sinking when he saw that the old calendar was up, December 1985 on display. The 29th was now uncrossed too. So, it wasn’t a bad dream. They were really going back in time.

He made himself a plate of toast and a cup of coffee and sat, waiting for everyone to arrive. He barely touched his food, sick to his stomach with the thought of how far back in time they might go. Were they going to land on July 4th? Why? Or would it go back even earlier. Maybe they would have a chance to keep Billy from getting possessed at all.

At half past nine, his doorbell started to ring, and before long, everyone was again assembled in his living room.

Steve’s mind was racing. Thankfully, he had that day off, but he was going to have to sneak into the filing cabinet in the back office of Family Video, the one where Keith kept a binder with all of the past schedules, so that he could write down when he was supposed to have worked every day since he and Robin had been hired in early October. If they were going to make this work, they were going to all have to make it look like they were moving forwards in time, just like everyone else.

“So, Harrington, how am I supposed to believe this isn’t some stupid prank? I had enough of that thing the first time around, so if this is a prank, it isn’t a very funny one. I’m supposed to be getting out of Hawkins, not getting more deeply entrenched in it.” He muttered the last phrase, ducking his head and shaking it.

Steve couldn’t help but pity him.

***

In the end, after a lot of discussion, it was decided that the only thing they could do was try to live their lives as normally as they could, just in reverse. They would all go to school and/or work per usual and try not to worry about the impending doom.

The biggest issue was Billy. Max couldn’t exactly bring him home with her, and Hop’s cabin was barely big enough for him and El, let alone a third, fully grown, almost adult person.

Everyone turned to Steve. Fuck fuck fuck. He had no reason that Billy couldn’t stay here. “Fine,” he sighed. “You can stay here, Hargrove, but no snooping through my shit, no messing with me. This is just a place for you to hide out.”

“Got it, boss,” Billy saluted him, smiling for the first time all morning.

In the end, it was decided that Billy would start living at Steve’s on the 23rd of December, since his parents would be home for Christmas. At least he had a weeklong reprieve.

This was going to be so much fun.

***

Hopper dropped Billy off at 12pm on the 23rd. Steve showed Billy to the spare bedroom, helping him carry up his bags up. When he opened the door, Billy promptly flopped onto the bed, making a mess of the blankets and neat arrangement of pillows. “Nice digs you got here, Harrington. Fancier than any hotel I’ve ever been to. And mommy and daddy just let you have it all to yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get used to it.” Steve replied before it registered what he’d said. “Fuck, Hargrove. Sorry.”

Billy waved him off. “I’m choosing to be optimistic. I survived this once; I can do it again.” Only the slight waver in his voice betrayed his confident tone.

“That’s good.” Steve nodded, proceeding to show him the guest bathroom to cut the awkwardness.

***

For the first couple weeks, Billy was quiet. He mostly kept to himself, never inhabiting the same space as Steve. He ate his meals earlier or later than Steve, always washing and drying his dishes and putting them away right away, the fact that he’d left the guest bedroom at all only evidenced by the food disappearing from the fridge and cupboards at a faster rate than usual.

Steve could hear him watching movies in his room at night, the closed door muffling the sound. Curious about the kinds of movies Billy was into, Steve made it a habit to see which slot in his family’s vast movie collection was empty, then check to see which one it was the following morning when it was returned.

Animal House, Caddyshack and Ghostbusters had all been recent selections, which surprised Steve. He hadn’t taken Billy for a comedy fan, picturing him frowning at Full Metal Jacket or the Godfather. Maybe they had a bit more in common than Steve thought.

He was also a neat housemate, which Steve was thankful for, since he wasn’t exactly one to keep a super tidy house. Steve did the shopping and yard work, since Billy couldn’t go outside, and in return, Billy swept and mopped, and Steve was pretty sure he’d even scrubbed the toilets one day while Steve had been out at work.

Eventually, Billy started leaving his room sometimes when Steve was home, and it felt less like he was living with a really tidy ghost. He didn’t really talk, but he’d go out to the living room and watch TV with Steve sometimes while he ate dinner after work. They’d laugh at MASH reruns, get sucked into shitty late night B movies.

One night, while they were sitting on the couch, Hargrove pulled out a baggie of joints and a lighter, holding them out to Steve. Where the hell had he even gotten those? Steve was afraid to ask. “Wanna get high?” He asked, flicking the lighter.

“No smoking in the living room,” Steve said automatically and very loudly, his voice echoing in the cavernous room. Billy lowered the lighter, looking momentarily stricken.

“Sorry,” Steve followed up quickly. “It’s just that my mom would kill me if she came home, and her couch smelled like smoke. Come with me.” He motioned for Billy to follow him, grabbing a couple of beers from the fridge, then heading up to his bedroom.

They walked silently up to his room, Steve trying to picture if there was anything like dirty boxers or lube strewn about for Billy to see. Thankfully, he didn’t think so. He’d cleaned up pretty well the day before.

They flopped down on the bed and Billy pulled the baggie and his lighter back out. Steve slid the window open so the room wouldn’t reek as bad after they were done and accepted the joint when Billy handed it to him, handing him a beer in return.

It wasn’t long before they were completely mellowed out, both laying back, Steve laying opposite of Billy, trying to resist the urge to poke him in the head with his socked feet.

“So,” Billy asked, finally breaking the silence, “are you ready to potentially get your ass kicked by Russians again?”

Steve ran a hand through his already sleep mussed hair, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. This wasn’t something that he talked about a lot, and he was honestly surprised that Billy knew.

“Max told me,” Billy said, reading Steve’s mind. “She likes to remind me that I wasn’t the only one that went through hell that day.”

Steve took a sip of his beer, then let out a long exhale. “Not really. There’s a pretty constant ringing in my right ear, and they were worried there might be permanent brain damage. As if I’m not already enough of an idiot, now I’m brain damaged.”

Billy poked him in the leg. “Don’t talk about yourself like that, Harrington. It’s not the first time I’ve heard you say that, and it’s not a good look. If you call yourself stupid, it’s basically inviting other people to call you stupid. I know you act like an idiot, but you’re not dumb.”

Huh. Billy Hargrove being nice. The world really was backwards. He didn’t know how to reply to that, so he just passed the joint back to Billy and laid back, closing his eyes, enjoying the high and the companionable silence.

***

After that night, it was like a dam had broken, and they started spending more time together. Sometimes, when Steve would come home from work, Billy would have dinner waiting for him, and they’d eat together before moving to the living room to watch a movie while they folded laundry or play boardgames from Steve’s massive collection.

Billy was great at Scrabble and Steve dominated at Yahtzee, although Billy argued that you couldn’t really win a game based so purely on luck. After a game of Monopoly that had turned into a shouting match where Steve, in one of his admittedly lower moments had flipped the board and left the room, they’d decided to retire that one for a while. They’d also gotten really into card games, although Steve balked at Billy’s suggestion that they play strip poker.

***

As soon as they’d gotten comfortable with that nightly routine, it changed again, as they hit the day before Steve had been hired at Family Video. With no job to go to, his schedule was wide open. He’d sleep in until noon unless it was a day where Billy cajoled him into working out with him.

Steve had unearthed the set of weights that had been long collecting dust in the basement, originally purchased during one of his father’s brief health nut phases. Billy made good use of them, slowly putting back on the muscle mass he’d lost during the months after Starcourt, and Steve, more to shut Billy up than anything else, lifted a lighter set.

He’d always preferred cardio, personally, but he’d learned quickly that sometimes it was better to just do what Billy asked than to hear his bitching about it, whether it was weights or the benefits of eating salad or getting eight hours of sleep. Steve hated to admit that physically, he was feeling better than he had in years.

***

As they moved back into late August and the kids were off school, they started spending more time at Steve’s as well. They were all well aware of Steve’s fear of using the pool after what had happened to Barb, but that didn’t stop the kids from showing up almost daily for a swim.

It was decided that the fenced in yard was secluded enough for Billy to come out as well, so most of afternoons were spent out there, the kids playing Marco Polo, Steve working on his tan, and Billy alternating between hanging out with Steve and hovering around the edge of the pool, sticking his legs in, still uncomfortable around the kids besides Max and El.

Sometimes everyone, including Nancy and Jonathan and Hopper and Joyce would come over, and they’d have a BBQ, the kids giving themselves stomach aches from hot dog eating contests, and everyone ending the night sucking on popsicles, lounging around on the lawn furniture, lazy and tired from too much sun.

***

Somewhere between the evenings spent out in the yard and the nights spent getting high with Billy, laying back, pressed together side by side, on Steve’s bed, talking about anything and everything between hits, Steve inexplicably found himself falling for Billy. What had caused it, Steve had no clue, but now he couldn’t get the blond out of his head.

He’d find his eyes lingering on Hargrove’s cherry red lips, or the constellation of freckles on his cheeks and shoulders, made even more noticeable by the time he spent out in the summer sun. He’d get a little swoosh in his belly every time he made Billy laugh, not just a polite laugh, but one from deep in his gut, loud and silly and genuine, like he was showing his real self to Steve a little bit more each day.

He’d walk into the kitchen, his hair still mussed from sleep, rubbing his eyes, grumbling about needing coffee right now, and Steve found himself wanting to bury his hands deep in Billy’s hair, pull him in close, and kiss the grumpy little frown off his face.

He also found Billy looking at him a lot, but it was hard to tell if he was checking Steve out, or just trying to figure out why Steve was spending seemingly all his time looking at him.

The night that almost sent Steve over the edge was one evening that was uncharacteristically cool and rainy for August. Everyone had stayed home for once, except Robin, but she’d left a couple of hours before, so it was just Billy and Steve lounging around on the couch. Billy had his feet in Steve’s lap, and they were watching Jeopardy, trying to beat each other to the answers.

When the episode was done, Billy turned to him. “Wanna go out to the hot tub? At least it’s covered, so we won’t get rained on, and these weary bones could use a soak.” In lieu of swimming in the pool, Billy had gone extra hard on the weights that morning.

Steve nodded, and in a flash, Billy was pulling down his shorts, and Jesus, he wasn’t even wearing underwear, he walked towards the patio door. Steve didn’t even know where to look.

“Hargrove!” he sputtered. “You know for a fact that I have extra swim trunks that you can use.”

Billy just waved him off, telling him to bring beer and towels. “There’s no point, Harrington. It’s only you and me, and it’s not like it’s anything you haven’t seen before.”

Steve took a moment to compose himself and will his dick to go down, and by the time he’d changed and grabbed the requested towels and beers, he found Billy shoulder deep in the bubbling water.

“Are you always this free?” Steve asked, his cheeks heating.

Billy shrugged. “Like I said, nothing you haven’t seen in the changerooms before.”

“I guess,” Steve said, sighing. “But this is different. It’s up close and personal.”

Billy cackled, starting to stand. “I can get a little more up close and personal if you’d like, princess.”

Steve pulled him down by the arm, already exasperated. “Sit the fuck down and drink your beer.”

Billy’s laughter rang clear in the night, and Steve closed his eyes, trying to commit the sound to memory.

***

One evening, after Dustin had demanded some one-on-one time with Steve, he’d relented, even though it was taking away from the precious time he had left with Billy. They were only a month away from July 4th at this point, and Steve wanted to spend every moment that he could. Max had requested some time with Billy though, so Steve had taken Dustin out to the diner for dinner.

After confirming that Steve would be paying, Dustin ordered a double cheeseburger, cheese fries, and a milkshake. He was pretty sure that Dustin had mentioned being lactose intolerant once, so he made a mental note not to keep him out too late. Mrs. Henderson could deal with the upset stomach that was sure to come.

Dustin wasted no time, cutting to the chase as soon as the waitress had walked away to put in their order. “So, what’s up with you and Billy spending all of your time together?”

“Dude,” Steve replied, trying to sound casual. “He literally lives down the hall from me. What am I supposed to do, ignore him?”

Dustin nodded. “Yes. Do exactly that. He’s an asshole, Steve. You know this, I know this. Your house was just supposed to be a place for him to lie low, but every time I try to hang out with you lately, you’re too busy because you’re hanging out with him.”

“Dustin, my man,” Steve replied, patting his shoulder. “Someday, you’re going to learn about a little something called empathy. Have you ever thought that maybe Billy’s a scared kid, just like we are? Everyone handles their emotions differently, and the sooner you learn that the better.”

Dustin waved him off. “Nah, I think he’s just a jackass, and you’re just being brainwashed.”

By then, the food was arriving. “How about we just agree to disagree?” he asked, holding up his own milkshake. Dustin clinked his against Steve’s, and Billy seemingly forgotten for the time being, Dustin launched into a story about his latest physics experiment.

***

When Steve got home, Max’s bike was no longer leaning against the garage and her shoes weren’t inside the door, so Steve assumes she headed home already.

He didn’t see Billy in the living room or kitchen, and he wasn’t out on the back deck having a smoke, so he called up the stairs.

“Billy?”

“Up here, princess!” Billy replied. “Bring beer!”

Steve rolled his eyes, but did as he was asked, grabbing two cold bottles from the fridge before heading up the stairs. When he got to his room, he found Billy laying on his bed, holding up the December 1985 issue of Playboy. Steve could feel his face immediately start to heat.

“Classy, Harrington,” he laughed, waving the magazine.

Steve was mortified. Of course, that had to be out, tucked under the corner of Steve’s pillow for the other boy to find. It wasn’t even something he usually bought himself, and this issue had been a gag Christmas present from Robin, handed to him with an assortment of candy and the newest Tears for Fears tape when they’d exchanged gifts behind the counter of Family Video during their closing shift on Christmas Eve.

She’d told him that she wanted to cheer him up during his dry spell, and Steve had tried to hand it right back, muttering about Robin’s dry spell, but she’d countered that it couldn’t really count as a dry spell if she’d never seen any action before. He had to concede that she was right, but that hadn’t stopped him from trying to roll it up and drop it in her backpack when they’d closed for the night. She’d caught him and forced him to take it home, and they’d spent the ensuing months sneaking it back and forth.

He thought he’d finally won when he’d slipped it under a pile of records in Robin’s bedroom when he’d been over at her house two days before, but she’d clearly found it and returned it to him.

He tried to snatch it out of Billy’s hands, but Hargrove wasn’t having it. He jumped off the bed, running out into the hallway. “Let’s see who Stevie’s favourite is. Any pages stuck together? I see Carol Ficatier’s picture got some loving!”

Fucking Robin. One night, in a fit of giggles, she’d coated her lips in Steve’s mom’s bright red lipstick and pressed a kiss to the model’s photo.

Even though Steve knew that Billy knew it wasn’t him that had done it, it didn’t stop him from chasing Billy out into the hall. But even though Steve was taller by about an inch, Hargrove managed to hold it up out of Steve’s reach. He dashed back into Steve’s room and Steve got in the door just in time to see Billy hop up on the bed and start jumping, his head thrown back in laughter.

Steve jumped up on the bed with him, but Billy bounced away from him, eventually losing his balance and flopping down on the mattress.

Steve lost his balance too and came crashing down on top of Billy. Their faces were inches apart, so close they could kiss.

Billy looked down at Steve’s lips, and he was sure the blond was going to take leap, but instead, he leaned back and asked, “Is that what you’re into?”

Steve blinked, confused. “What am I into?”

Billy waved the magazine. “Brunettes. Is that your type? Pretty little brunettes?”

“No,” Steve replied, not breaking eye contact with Billy as he shook his head. “I’m more into blondes. Stocky, freckled, and the more bite the better.”

Before Steve could even process what he’d just said, Billy’s lips were on his, and there was a hand fisted in his hair.

Steve’s brain went offline for a minute before he snapped back into it, cupping a hand on Billy’s jaw, rubbing a thumb over the prickly stubble he found there. Holy shit, he was kissing Billy Hargrove.

Every nerve felt electrified, and his stomach was alight with butterflies. They rolled around on the bed, taking turns on top, hands touching every bit of skin that they could reach, kissing until they were breathless, and needed to take a break.

“Fuck,” Steve breathed, dropping his forehead against Billy’s. “That just happened.”

“Yeah,” Billy replied, smirking. “It did. And you’re an even better kisser than I imagined you would be, Harrington.”

“Imagined?” Steve pulled back, so he could look Billy in the eye. “How long have you been picturing kissing me, Hargrove?”

Billy’s already flushed cheeks coloured even more. “Since the first time I saw you. Spent the whole school year trying to work up the nerve to do something about it, and then that fucking piece of shit turned my life upside down. Literally.”

Steve groaned at his last line, whacking him lightly in the arm. “You really liked me that whole time? You didn’t do a very good job of showing it.”

“Ever heard of pulling pigtails? I had no clue how to show you I liked you, so I just teased the fuck out of you. In retrospect, it probably wasn’t my best move. Can we forget about that and just go back to the kissing thing?” he asked, burying his face in Steve’s neck.

Steve nudged him up so their lips could meet. “Definitely.”

***

It seemed that now that he and Billy had gotten a taste of each other, they couldn’t get enough. Any minute they had alone together was spent with either their lips locked or their bodies touching in some other way. If Billy was making dinner, Steve was pressed up against his back, chin perched on his shoulder, watching as he chopped and stirred and sauteed, and Billy’s favourite place to watch TV was in Steve’s lap. It felt so good to be touched, just for the sake of it. Steve would melt into Billy’s arms, relaxing and feeling at home.

Billy had quickly moved from the spare room to Steve’s bed, and they slept soundly, wrapped up in each other’s arms. Before bed, they’d lay in the dark, spilling their deepest secrets, and their hopes and fears, knowing that everything they said within the confines of their little two-person world would be kept between them.

One night, Billy brought up the future, dancing around, as always, the fact that if the Mindflayer had its way, Billy, and all of them, might not have a future after July 4th 2.0. It was easier that way, to pretend that they weren’t careening quick into the end of their short time together. It was less than two weeks now, and Steve wasn’t going to waste a second.

Billy told him about his big plans to get out of here and head back to California, where he’d go to business school, then open his own garage. He was going to get a little house by the ocean and take back up surfing, and never set foot in the Midwest cold again.

“What about you, Harrington?” he asked. Steve was holding him in his arms, breathing in the scent of his soap and shampoo and the underlying Billy smell, but the blond twisted out of his grasp so he could meet Steve’s eyes in the dark.

Steve shrugged. “I’ll probably just be here forever, shuffling papers at my dad’s office until he croaks, and I take over the company.”

“Wow, that’s fucking bleak, Harrington. You ever thought about moving out to the west coast?” Billy asked.

Immediately, Steve pictured Billy teaching him to surf, their hands intertwined as they walked along the beach at sunset. It sounded too good to be true. He shook his head. “I’ve never been further west than Iowa once, for a family wedding. My life is pretty much mapped out already, courtesy of my father.”

“Well,” Billy replied, kissing Steve. “If you ever need a change, you’ll have at least one friend out there.”

Steve pulled Billy into his arms, and he fell asleep like that, picturing a lifetime of golden sunsets.

***

Just a few days before the 4th of July, Hopper showed up at Steve’s house with El in tow, asking to speak with Billy. They’d been in the kitchen making breakfast, and Billy was only wearing boxers. Steve heard him thumping up the stairs to his room so he could pull on clothes. He reappeared shortly, and Steve ushered everyone into the living room.

“It wants you,” El said plainly, looking at Billy. “I’ve been trying to see what it wants, but the connection’s been weak. It was stronger today. Because we’re close. We were right. It wants you. You weren’t supposed to die on the 4th of July. It wants to keep you alive and keep you as a host.”

Steve felt his stomach drop. It was the 7th of July. They only had a few more days left with Billy. If they were heading back to the 4th, they had three days, and if they were heading back to June 29th, the day Billy had been possessed, they had eight. He tried to take a deep, calming breath, but it came out more like a shudder. His only goal at this point was to not cry.

He turned to Billy, who’d turned ashen white. “I just need a minute,” he said, standing up and walked through the kitchen, grabbing his cigarettes and lighter off the counter. Steve could still see him, but his back was turned. He started to pace as he puffed on his cigarette. Steve wanted to comfort him but respected his need for privacy. At least it gave him a few minutes to think.

A conversation that he’d had with Billy a few days before came to mind. They’d been laying in bed, talking about how it seemed like the Mindflayer liked to prey on people who it felt were emotionally weak and alone, and Billy had been the perfect target when the Mindflayer had taken up residence inside him. He’d felt like he didn’t have any real connections in Hawkins, and his father had been particularly cruel that night.

Billy and Neil had fought over something Billy couldn’t even remember anymore. What he did remember was finally snapping and telling Neil that he was going to drive back to California on his own. Neil had slapped him and told him to go for it, but to remember that there was nothing left in California for Billy, only his mother who didn’t love him enough to stay.

Tears streaming down his face, Billy had driven through the dark, just trying to get out. That’s when the Mindflayer had found him, preying on his broken heart and mind.

“Did El ever tell you how she brought me back to myself that day?”

Steve shook his head. “No, she told us that it wasn’t our business.”

“It was my mom. When I was little, she used to take me surfing at this beach near our house. It was our special time, just the two of us. She’d let me talk and talk as we walked on the beach, and she’d tell me how good I was at surfing. I fucking sucked back then, but she’d always tell me how great I was anyway. I think those are my happiest memories.”

Steve wrapped his arms around Billy tighter, trying to hold back tears. “She sounds like she was pretty great.”

Yeah,” Billy replied, snuggling back as close as he could get, his back pressed right up to Steve’s chest. “She was.”

Maybe, he thought now, if they worked together, through El, to help Billy remember as many good memories as possible, they could get him out of the Mindflayer’s hold and destroy it once and for all.

He turned to Hop. “We need to get everyone here. Now.”

***

When he’d first told Billy, while El and Hop went to pick up some of the others, the blond had told him he didn’t think it would work. “There’s you and Max, but who the fuck else has happy memories of me, Harrington?”

Steve gave him an unimpressed look. “How about El, when you saved her life? When you helped Lucas with basketball? When you helped Will with his D&D campaign? Not everything needs to be big and significant. Everyday life is great too. Everyone likes you, and everyone wants to see you survive. Trust me.”

Billy had rolled his eyes and called Steve a corny motherfucker, but promised he’d at least consider the plan.

A half hour later, everyone was gathered in Steve’s living room, and he was explaining the plan to them.

“Come on, Steve, really?” Mike retorted. “We’re going to save Billy with the power of friendship? What is this, My Little Pony?”

Steve started to tell him that he was right, it was a dumb idea, but Billy piped up first. “You know, kid Wheeler? I think Steve’s plan is great. We’re going with it.”

He looked over at Billy, arms crossed, staring down Mike, so confidently defending Steve, and immediately felt choked up. God, Steve fucking hoped his plan worked. He couldn’t imagine what he’d do if it didn’t.

***

They tried to make the best of the time they knew for sure they had left with Billy. When everyone else left that day, Max stayed, and she and Billy went out to the backyard. Steve wanted to give them their privacy, so he stayed inside wondering what they were talking about out there. When Steve drove Max home, she had tears in her eyes, but she told him she was coming back the next morning, so it must have been ok.

When he got home, he found Billy sitting on the couch in silence, and Steve sat beside him, pulling Billy into his arms. The blond didn’t say anything, just letting himself be held, but when he eventually pulled away, his shirt was wet, and Billy’s eyes were glistening.

“Don’t fucking talk about it,” Billy said, pulling a lighter and pack of cigarettes from his pocket and heading out to the yard.

Steve let him go, and eventually, Billy made his way back inside, asking Steve if he wanted spaghetti for dinner. They ate in front of the tv, watching their usual episode of Jeopardy, both trying their hardest to pretend this was a normal night, even when it was anything but.

***

The next day followed the same pattern, Max coming over and spending the day with Billy before requesting a ride home from Steve again. She took his hand as they turned out of the driveway onto the street.

“I know I shouldn’t say this, but in case Billy hasn’t told you, and chickens out and never tells you, you should know that he loves you. A lot.”

“He hasn’t, but I love him too. A lot.” He tried his best to smile at her, but it came out watery and shaky. He hadn’t even said to himself that he loved Billy, but somehow, saying it now, he knew it was true. He loved Billy Hargrove, and he didn’t know what he’d do without him.

“Good,” she replied, offering a shaky smile of her own. “He deserves that. You both do.”

He let her out around the corner from her house and headed back to spend another night with Billy.

***

“It’s not fucking fair,” Billy said, his eyes filled with tears, that night as they laid in bed, passing a joint back and forth. “I really thought when I woke up that day in the woods that that was my second chance at life. I was ready to grow some balls, tell you how I felt, grab you, and get the hell out of here. I’ve had enough of this. Why does it fucking have to be me?”

This was the first time he’d seen Billy let out his feelings about what was about to happen, and he didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking fair. He pulled Billy into his arms and rocked him as he cried, sobs wracking his body, trying to hide his own silent tears. “It’s not fair, Billy. It’s not fair. I’m so sorry.”

He let Billy cry it out, until his sobs became soft sniffles, and he started to yawn. He laid Billy down on the bed and got in behind him, stroking his hair until his breathing evened out and he fell asleep in Steve’s arms.

***

The next day was, just as Steve expected, a somber affair. It was barely 8am when Max showed up at the door, and Steve made Billy’s favourite, French toast, and bacon for breakfast. The three of them ate in silence, enjoying each other’s company.

When they were done, Billy and Max headed outside to lay in the sun and talk, and Steve did the dishes, then went up to his room to pull out his old Scoops Ahoy! uniform. Tomorrow, yesterday, whatever it was, would be his last day of being employed at Scoops, and he and Robin had decided that wearing their work uniforms would be the easiest way for them to go in unattended.

Once he’d collected all the pieces, he hung it back up, out of the way, so Billy wouldn’t need to see it. He sat around after, trying to watch a movie, then read a magazine, but he was a ball of nervous energy. Eventually, he just took to pacing the living room.

At 4pm, Billy and Max said a teary goodbye, and Steve took her home, with a reminder for her to be ready for Joyce to pick her up at 9am.

***

When he’d asked Billy what he wanted to do that evening, he’d asked Steve if they could just have a normal evening like usual, so that’s what they did. They ordered a pizza and watched Jeopardy, and then played Monopoly, enjoying the bickering it caused for once.

They’d just flipped the TV over to a low budget cable movie when Billy crawled out of Steve’s arms and into his lap. He took Steve’s face in his hands, cradling it almost reverently, and kissed him deeply. Steve tangled his hands in Billy’s hair, tugging gently, and they were gasping for air by the time they pulled away to take a breath.

Billy pulled his shirt off, then Steve’s, and pressed up against him, chest to chest. Billy was hot, as usual full of molten heat, and he was flushed right down to his pecs. He took Steve’s hand and placed it on the bulge in his shorts.

He turned, nibbling on Steve’s ear before whispering in it. “I want you to fuck me, Harrington.”

Steve placed his hands on Billy’s shoulders, pulling him back so he could see his face.

“Billy, are you sure?”

Over the past month, they’d done pretty well everything else, from quick, awkward hand jobs, Steve almost coming the moment he wrapped his hand around Billy’s cock for the first time, to just last week, when Billy had sunk to his knees right in front of this couch and taken Steve into his mouth, touching and stroking, licking and sucking, until Steve had seen stars, his head thrown back, cum dribbling from the corner of Billy’s mouth.

He'd returned the favour, and afterwards, they’d cuddled, sweaty and sated, and Steve felt like that was as good as life would get. The fact that Billy was trusting him with this now meant everything to him, but he didn’t want to do it just so Billy could check it off a list of things he thought he should be doing.

“Yes,” Billy replied. “More than anything. I want this. I want you.”

Steve nodded. “Ok then, let’s go.”

He ushered Billy into his room and undressed him, pulling off his shorts and briefs slowly, allowing himself to take time to touch every part of Billy. Every freckle and mole and divot and crease committed to memory. His scent and his smile, the way that one curl always fell in front of his eyes. His laugh, and the way it felt to have the blonde’s strong arms wrapped around him. He never wanted to forget.

After stripping off his own clothes, he grabbed lube and a condom and followed Billy onto the bed. He laid the other boy on his back, grabbing a pillow and sliding it under his hips. He prepped him gently, adding one finger at a time until Billy was whining and begging Steve to just get inside already.

Steve kissed him once, twice, then rolled the condom on. He slid inside Billy slowly, an inch at a time, until he was fully engulfed in the blonde’s tight heat. Billy wrapped his legs around Steve's hips, and dug his nails into Steve's shoulders, holding on tight. They moved together, Steve stroking Billy in time to his thrusts, whispering soft praises in his ear until he was close, and it became mostly incoherent babbling.

They both came with tears in their eyes, shaking and panting, covered in a sheen of sweat. That didn’t stop them from entangling their limbs, trying to get as close as they physically could.

“I love you, Steve.” Billy said quietly, into the space where Steve’s shoulder met his neck.

“I know, Billy,” Steve replied, stroking the other boy’s sweaty curls. “I love you too. I’ll always love you.”

***

They didn’t get much sleep that night, instead laying awake in each other’s arms, and before they knew it, it was 8am and Steve’s alarm was going off. They dressed silently, then drove to the mall in Steve’s car, hands clutched together over the centre console.

The previous battle of Starcourt had been in the evening, but they had no clue what to expect, so they wanted to get there early. They were the first to arrive, so they sat and waited, taking in the massive structure of the mall that had the day before only been rubble.

Steve squeezed the other boy’s hand, turning to him. “You know I’ll always love you, right, Billy? No matter what happens?”

Billy nodded. “I know. Wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t, but I know.” Steve could hear the tears choking his voice, and couldn’t bear to look at him, or he knew he’d start crying too.

***

Before long, the other’s arrived, and they made their way into the mall in groups, to avoid drawing attention to themselves.

Steve, Max, El, and Billy were the last to enter, but they found nothing out of the ordinary. The mall was bustling with shoppers, and when he turned to look at Scoops Ahoy!, he found his co-worker, Alan, opening up the shop for the day. This wasn’t it. It wasn’t the 4th that they were waiting for at all. Maybe they would have a chance to save the lives of everyone who’s lives were taken by the Mindflayer in the week between the 29th and 4th.

A little anti-climactically, they dispersed, agreeing to go about their days as normal until the 29th, unless something suspicious arose.

Billy and Steve went home, with Max in tow to spend more time together. The mood seemed lighter than it had in days, all three of them silently agreeing that if they’d said goodbye to Billy already, they should treat this time like the bonus that it was.

Billy and Max swam, and they ate junk food and stayed up late, Max sleeping over under the guise of staying at El’s house.

***

On the evening of the 29th, they drove to meet everyone on the backroad where Billy had originally collided with the Mindflayer. Steve could sense a change in Billy almost immediately. His posture became harder, more rigid, and his mouth was drawn into a tight line. It made the hairs on the back of Steve’s neck stand up.

“It’s here,” El whispered to Max and Steve. “It’s time.”

Steve physically ached with the desire to wrap Billy in his arms and hold him tight, but he knew he needed to walk away and just hope that their plan worked. They left Billy and assumed their positions in the ditches.

There was a loud rumbling, then a bang that sounded like a clap of thunder. The streetlights flickered before going out, then, with an ear-splitting cry, the Mindflayer appeared before Billy where he stood in the middle of the road. Steve looked over at Max, whose eyes were wide, horrified. It was time to put the plan into action, so Billy could walk away uninjured, with the Mindflayer banished from his mind and Hawkins free of its wrath.

On Steve’s cue through the walkie talkies, everyone started to conjure up their happiest memory of Billy, trying to get across to him, through El, how much he was loved and cared for. She ran to him and held him, even as he struggled in her grasp, the Mindflayer trying to break him free.

Steve called to mind all the nights he’d spent together with Billy, laughing and joking and spilling their secrets to each other. He pictured wrapping his arms around the other boy, holding him close and telling him how amazing he was, kissing him silly and telling him that he loved him, that he always would.

He just hoped that the Mindflayer wasn’t imbedded too deeply into Billy’s brain for their thoughts to get through to him. At first, there was nothing, just the roaring of the Mindflayer, weaving its way around light posts and cars to get to Billy. But then, slowly, there was a change. Billy started to struggle less, and the grey veins started to recede.

Billy was shouting at El to let him go, but it was going from ear-splitting to a dull roar. He was slumping over, like the fight was draining out of him. The Mindflayer’s tentacles started to draw back, and it was shrinking. Steve looked around at everyone deep in thought and smiled. It was working.

Before their eyes, the Mindflayer vanished. They could only hope they would never see it again, but at least for right now, Billy was alive and ok, and so were all the other residents of Hawkins.

Eventually, Billy was simply whimpering, and his legs gave out. He fell to the ground, bringing El with him. “It’s ok, Billy,” she said over and over, smiling softly at him, stroking his hair.

Steve sighed in relief. It was going to be alright.

He wanted to run to Billy, but he stood back, letting Max go to him instead first.

She punched Billy in the arm and tried to discreetly wipe a tear from her eye. “You scared the shit out of me, Billy. I’m so glad you’re ok. I really thought it had you this time.”

Billy laughed, pulling her into a bone crushing hug. “You can’t get rid of me that easy, shitbird.”

Eventually, Max pulled away and looked at Steve, motioning for him to come over.

Steve’s heart started to beat wildly, still unable to believe that Billy was truly ok, even as he witnessed him sitting there with his own two eyes.

“Harrington,” Billy greeted him, grinning. “Glad to see me?”

“Fucking understatement of the century,” Steve replied, pulling Billy into his arms. "I'm never letting you go again. You live in these arms now." Billy nodded, laughing. Steve kissed the other boy until Dustin told them they were being gross and to get a room.

“Gladly,” Steve laughed, pulling Billy to his car. Someone else could deal with the aftermath of the crumbling mall. They’d had enough for one day.

***

They spent the rest of the day in bed, not moving except to eat. They were tired and Billy was sore, and they were both unwilling to let the other out of their sight.

***

The next morning dawned clear and bright, and Steve grinned to himself when he looked outside and realized there was snow falling in heavy drifts past his bedroom window. He turned on the radio just in time to hear the DJ say “Good morning and happy new years, Hawkins! Looks like it’s going to be a snowy one today! Stay home and enjoy the time with your loved ones if you can!”

That’s exactly what Steve planned on doing. He shook Billy awake, urging him to look outside. “We’ve done it. We’ve finally done it.”

Billy’s answering grin was brighter than the sun.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #harringrove holiday exchange 2022 #harringrove holiday #harringrove holiday exchange #chrisbitchtree writes

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clarafyer · 7 months

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BREAKING NEWS: TERRORIST TEEN GOES BONKERS AND BLOWS UP YET ANOTHER DISTRICT

So yeah this is cyberpunk!Vesperaaaaa, she's in one of my earliest posts on one of my art dumps of stuff I did before I started my blog, and I made this in English class today :D

(why do class doodles always end up 10 times better than when you're actually trying like what the hell)

BIG LORE RANT AHEAD

Cp!Vespera's lore: Her brother Sullivan (Tenebris) had to turn to a permanent life of crime when she was 9 because he got into some trouble with the mafia and had to pay off massive debts. She was from then on raised with Sullivan and his friend Divian, Muroko was also a good friend of the group's before actually joining the mafia to try and usurp it (still a process to this day).

After a few years, Vespera was starting to be let into assassinations and infiltration jobs. When she was 14, though, Sullivan left without a trace. No note, no talk, nothing. He left because his fucked up head chose his urges to begin cruel experiments instead of staying with the people who were restraining him from going there.

Fast forward to almost 3 years, neither Ves nor Divian has seen him, but they know he's alive by now because of some recent missing persons incidents and their descriptions, along with Muroko's help (he's now the right-hand man, so he gets a lot of insider knowledge, but can't force Sullivan to come back because of the contract they organized and Muroko valuing business just a little more than personal deeds)

By now: She turns 17 in just a few months, and doesn't realize that she's turning just like her brother, who she's grown to despise, but- still misses the old days. She experiences hallucinations mainly involving her brother, which has been making her lash out more and more as the days go by. One fateful day, Divian and Vespera are going back to the base after a mission, and they meet a near-dead humanoid creature, who has a broken shackle on their wrist. Turns out, this is the first escaped victim of her brother's :)

My friend and I haven't done much with our characters recently, but in the early summer months this year we were roleplaying this stuff, and it was a BLAST. Seriously, this is only the rambling of my side of the lore. I did mention Divian, her character, but I don't wanna go into too much about their lore because like- permission and stuff idk

Fun facts:

- She used to force her brother to let her paint his nails, and because of that, nowadays he still wears nail polish

- The 'escaped victim' is the cyberpunk version of Evelyn (mothman oc)

- My 3 AUs (og, modern and cyberpunk) all represent different kinds of familial trauma (og: manipulation and emotional/mental abuse, modern: physical abuse, cyberpunk: abandonment)

- She's the biggest Oozes fan to exist

- She uses grenades and a nailed bat as her weapons (which is why she usually is just put on surveillance duty on missions lol)

- She has a lung disease that's common in the cyberpunk au, where her lungs are affected by the pollution in the air so much that she needs a gas mask anytime she's outside (it's such a common thing that masks are provided in a lot of places)

- She actually has a custom mask that doubles as a gas mask and a cool high-tech mask with an AR screen on it, made by Muroko for her 13th birthday!

- Her jacket is a re-painted letter jacket from her old school

- She marks her grenades with stickers of varying colors to indicate the average radius before using them (some are just smoke bombs too)

- Technically her first mission was her being a stowaway in Divian's car and she got in big trouble for like 3 months because of it (she also made Div mess up the kill)

ANYWAYS, THAT FELT GREAT TO RANT ABOUT, BUHBYEEEE (questions are ABSOLUTELY allowed I love answering questions abt oc lore, who doesn't)

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undrgrnd-nft · 1 year

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UNDRGRND DIGD 055

Memetic by Meityform

ORIGINALLY POSTED DECEMBER 19, 2022 ON UNDRGRND.IO

5 Artists From the UNDRGRND Collection

UNDRGRND DIGS is a periodical feature showcasing artists that the UNDRGRND curators dig. We sift through the social media and NFT platforms to find the best artists waiting to be discovered. UNDRGRND believes in the artists we feature and we will purchase NFTs from each artist featured.

View the Tezos UNDRGRND Collection

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Meityform

AVAILABLE ON OBJKT.COM

These pop-art gifs from Meityform are alive with color, characters, and ideas. Bold outlines of intricate mazes create a backdrop of the focal point of each piece while also playing a role in the message. Each work of Meityform appears to combine the use of an AI program but is edited and combined in such a way that the imperfections are just as important to each composition. Less than one-month minting Meityform is just beginning what will be an exciting and beautiful journey.

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Artserge

AVAILABLE ON OBJKT.COM

Artserge has a wide-ranging style. It’s hard to nail down what that style is or which one is his predominant style. Perhaps the easiest way to categorize his work is by looking at whom he works with. We “discovered” Artserge due to his collab with the legendary Ralph Steadman. Famous for his unsettling drawings and paintings in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, Ralph Steadman chose Artserge to be one of the select few to collab with. The partnership in Caterpillar’s Dream is a perfect match. Perhaps that is the best compliment to give to, and way to describe, Artserge’s work.

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Ainita

AVAILABLE ON OBJKT.COM

Not all art has to depict the melodramatic or the painful. Good art is honest. Ainita’s work is an honest depiction of a family and their happy moments. Moments together that none will remember due to sleeping. A family dancing in the rain or farming together or the children putting on a puppet show/ These moments are happy and true. Any parent would be jealous of these parents who have the energy to give to their kids in this way. And while some may not have this to give every day all would agree this is the joy they would feel if they could.

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Blue-mbk

AVAILABLE ON OBJKT.COM

The soft palette and markings of Blue-mbk are in stark contrast to the subject matter in some of their work. In That’s how. we see the simplest way wars are started, or how we so easily destroy and devalue each other. It could be a simple response to a complex rhetorical question like “How did we become this?” Blue-mbk has a way of expressing feelings of isolation during covid with such short clips which makes the impact all the more powerful on repeat.

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Poptone Cyber

AVAILABLE ON OBJKT.COM

These outcast characters in Poptone Cyber’s work all seem perfectly content with the lives they have chosen or been forced into. The motif of introversion permeates throughout. In Hermit, an individual happily finds themselves smoking and listening to music. What tends to drive us towards isolation is fear and while some may see isolation as a curse Poptone celebrates it as a blessing in Blessed by Fear. The biggest indicator that being alone is something that Poptone feels should be celebrated comes from Intrusive, where the world assaults an individual with news from the outside.

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Each UNDRGRND DIGS will feature artists our curators have purchased for the UNDRGRND Collection.

Be sure to follow us on Twitter for more information: #UNDRGRND

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tile-wynnum · 10 months

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What Kind of Tile is Best Belong to the Pool?

Tiles are known for their undeniable service for both indoors and outdoor, tiles are really part of indoor as their exterior use and appeal. On the other hand, the outdoor is also one of the places where tiles are being used, one of the indoor places is the pool. Pool tiles Capalaba must be the most aesthetically appealing part of the swimming pool. There are endless choices to pick from but let us talk about the most available and the most commonly used tiles for pools.

Ceramic and Porcelain Tiles

Decades of years ago, porcelain and ceramic have been the most popular choices for pool tile. Apart from being straightforward to establish and clean, ceramic pool tile can be hand-painted in any way. They are smooth to handle, and hence, little swimmers are safe from any lacerations from inside the pool. With porcelain tiles, the benefit is that they do not absorb warmth. So, they both are the perfect choice for the waterline and pool patio pavement.

You can select ceramic and porcelain tiles available in textured finishes corresponding to the modern style and merging with the surrounding landscape. If you’re looking to add a waterline accent without stretching your budget too far, go for ceramic or porcelain tiles as the best choice.

Glass Tiles

Being aware that porcelain and ceramic are great options already for cheap pool tile, glass is a comparatively costly choice. Glass tiles are small square tiles that are made from recycled glass for a clean pearlescent look. Consequently, they are not just eco-friendly but also non-porous and long-lasting than any other kind of pool tile. Talking about color and design, these glass tiles are best too, glass tiles take the cake. Select glass tiles in deeper shades and make the deception of deepness in the pool. Also, they count as a luxuriant indication of the pool. You can utilize these tiles for both hot and cold weather. Despite the aesthetic value of glass tiles, their building is a way for a story compared to the other clay-made tiles. It takes nearly four weeks to complete the installation or a month. The perfect eye-catching glass tiles depend on the craftsmanship of the pool contractor.

Stone tiles

Like the ceramic pool tile, the stone is another great and usual choice for swimming pool tiles. Natural stone tiles function best for assembling the Mediterranean or classical architectural look in your backyard oasis. They arrive with a textured sense that combines completely with other natural elements in the landscaping scheme. You can also establish stone tiles on the deck and patio for a cohesive flow of the design. The options of elements in stone pool tiles contain sandstone, slate, travertine, flagstone, and bluestone. Since stone tiles are porous, they are sealed every few years to control staining or water composition.

Brick Tiles

If you desire a royal glimpse in the swimming pool, brick tiles nailed it. Though they are not trendy, these tiles are as enduring as stone tiles. Mainly, brick tiles are obtainable in red, but you can find some other colors as well. The biggest disadvantage of brick tiles is they are highly porous. So, you need to seal them every year to make sure water does not exude inside. These are the opportunities available in pool tiles. No matter if you choose porcelain, mosaic, stone, glass, or ceramic pool tile, regard the characteristics like size, color, design, trends, and your budget to make the right preference.

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asaproofingandexteriors · 1 year

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Signs of roof damage and when to seek professional help

There is no denying that your home is probably one of the biggest investments you will make in your lifetime. Your home doesn’t mean four walls and the floor below it; your home’s most imperative part is the roof that shields you from the scorching heat and the spine-chilling cold outside. Regardless of their quality, there’s no denying that all roofs are susceptible to damage. So, in case you are looking for signs of damage, here are some red flags that call for the immediate attention of residential roofing companies.

Buckling Shingles

If you notice that some of your shingles are missing, cracked, or curling at the edges, it’s a sign that your roof is damaged and needs attention. Note that spotting buckling shingles is no easy feat until you are physically up on the roof. From the ground, your roof might look just fine, but if you want to spot the buckling shingles, it’s always a great idea to inspect your roof at least once a year from the top on your own or with professional expertise.

Protruding nails

Just like any piece of furniture or equipment, if you have nails protruding out of your roof, it indicates damage. The loose nails eventually get displaced and roll off your roof, which makes it even weaker and more prone to damage. If you notice any nails sneaking from the roof planks, call for professional help at once instead of DIYing the job.

Water leaks

Water damage can manifest in different ways, such as water spots or stains on your ceiling or walls, peeling paint or wallpaper, or mold growth. These signs of water damage indicate that your roof is leaking and requires repairs. If you see water leaking into your attics through the roof after rainfall, it could be due to cracks or holes. So, call a roof replacement or repair professional to fix the underlying cracks for stopping the leak.

Sagging roof

If you notice that your roof is sagging, it’s a sign that there’s a serious problem that needs to be addressed immediately. A sagging roof can be caused by structural issues, water damage, or an aging roof.

When to Seek Professional Help?

While some minor repairs can be done by the homeowner, it’s vital to know when to seek professional help. Here are some situations where you should call in a professional roofing contractor:

Extensive damage: If your roof is severely damaged, it’s best to call a professional to assess the situation and recommend the necessary repairs.

High-risk repairs: If your roof is steep or difficult to access, reach out to a professional roofing contractor with the necessary training and equipment to perform the repairs safely.

Insurance claims: In case your roof has sustained damage due to a storm or other natural disaster, work with a professional roofing contractor who can assist with the insurance claims process and ensure the repairs are effortless.

Are you scouring the web for professional residential roofing companies? Want to get your roof repaired or replaced? Contact the experts at ASAP Roofing and Exteriors Inc. now!

#professional roofing contractor

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skybanana5 · 1 year

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Not known Facts About Green Nail Syndrome

Going environment-friendly: The complications of the green nail disorder By Warren R. Heymann, MD February 3, 2021 Vol. 1 #11 - 678 In the long running, we presume the potential to utilize nails may not be limited to nails alone. We determine that practically 1 in 6 people along with psychological health and wellness concerns have at least one shade nail. In various other phrases, nearly 75% of individuals residing with mental disease document having at least one shade nail through the time they acquire their first nail. 5 By Warren R. Heymann, MD February 3, 2021 Vol. 9 Number 3 Publishing Association Press This post initially seemed in the Washington Post, as a unique supplement to your everyday newsletter. This registration delivers up-to-date information throughout the time coming from our readers. Sign up today, and we'll read through the whole point. Don't worry about subscribing. That doesn't suggest you'll agree to all of the membership terms, but please think about signing up if you delight in our material. 5 I locate a special contentment in detecting the green nail syndrome (GNS, aka chloronychia, Goldman-Fox syndrome) — it is quick and easy to realize and incredibly reassuring to individuals who were convinced they had a subungual cancer malignancy. What I likewise observe in this team of people has been improved adhering to three months of screen and treatment after their major (norepinephrine) re-establishment. They are currently able to take longer to recuperate.

Located on brand-new information, my problem (therefore my patients’ trouble) is that the immediate prognosis may have occasionally obviated additional scrutiny of their nail disorder(s). The new information might lost lighting on the long running and developing concern of nailopathy in this area, and may also help to lessen the common indicators of nailopathy: shortness of breath, uneven breathing, soreness, and at times other ailments that might be connected to unsatisfactory physical feature. GNS has been illustrated as a set of three of green yellowing of the nail plate, conterminous paronychia, and distal onycholysis. The presence of discoloration of the nail plate of a solitary or huge nail has been mentioned in a number of different instances entailing patients with nail osteoskeletal disability [18], [19]. A research study in which a tiny quantity of water was put on the dental nail plate of 40 individuals has shown medical yellowing. The color of the nail may vary coming from blue-green, to green-brown, or green-yellow. The title of the polish might are composed of environment-friendly, tan, or red. The type of coating made use of might not be understood to the individual. A reddish shade coating is a coating color, generally with a slightly red color, that is mixed along with oil after being washed. Reddish blemishes are most often found when a woman paints or uses a reddish sprayer. Typically only one or two nails are included. Only one is overlooking for each of the other halves of the ray. But you can easily really use one on a lot additional nails than there are nails for in my scenario, hence creating the nails extra resistant. Some nail varnishing strategies could possibly possess even more than one nail missing. The very most often used approaches that are known to generate the biggest density and stamina are as adheres to: A nail varnish in green. GNS often is kept in mind in clients with other nail conditions such as psoriasis or paronychia, particularly in the circumstance of a damp atmosphere; this is specifically correct for hair stylists, dish washers, and clinical personnel. It is likewise accurate that various other nail disorder reason have had a duty or influence on persistent complete satisfaction with the service, such as inadequate total satisfaction with various other company carriers and quality companies. Read More Here of the variables that have influenced client fulfillment are: 1. The differential medical diagnosis consists of oncychomycosis, subungal hematoma, or most cancers. When a pediatrician recommends a exclusive pediatric surgical operation, it is necessary that all individuals are informed that a special or brand new procedure can strengthen their wellness in a timely, comprehensive way. A special-needs child may possess pre-traumatic stress and anxiety disorder, traumatic mind injury, or other issues of significant relevance that are understood to be the reason of damage later in lifestyle. (1) Extremely, Pseudomonas aeruginosa (a Gram-negative, cardio coccobacillus) is the liable germs resulting in GNS through producing pyoverdin and pyocyanin. Such pyoverdin creates DHEAT through hindering the pyoverdin development/account activation of pyocyanin, and pyocyanin hinders pyoverdin manufacturing/activation of GNS. (2) There is a remarkable reciprocatory relationship between P. aeruginosa and fungi or yeast. Most fungi, and also the majority of yeasts, lack the capacity to lug out metabolic pathways such as photoynthesis. Thus, if we yearn for to grow microorganisms, we acquiredta help make these little bit of bits of component (pH 13.8 or whatever) that is current in the ground so that they can reproduce effectively on their personal in various kinds of nutrient-rich environments – such as in the ocean.

#treatment for nail fungus #nail fungus treatment #nail fungus #green nail fungus

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zonechalk7 · 2 years

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Little Known Questions About green nail syndrome caused by Pseudomonas aeruginos.

Going eco-friendly: The complications of the green nail disorder Through Warren R. Heymann, MD February 3, 2021 Vol. 1 #11 - 678 In the lengthy running, we assume the capacity to make use of nails might not be limited to nails alone. We approximate that nearly 1 in 6 individuals with mental health issues possess at least one shade nail. In other phrases, almost 75% of individuals living with mental illness file possessing at least one shade nail by the opportunity they receive their first nail.

5 By Warren R. Heymann, MD February 3, 2021 Vol. 9 Number 3 Publishing Association Press This article actually appeared in the Washington Post, as a exclusive supplement to your daily email list. This subscription provides up-to-date information throughout the time from our audiences. Authorize up today, and we'll checked out the entire point. Don't worry about signing up. That doesn't indicate you'll agree to all of the registration terms, but please take into consideration subscribing if you appreciate our material. 5 I find a unique complete satisfaction in identifying the green nail syndrome (GNS, aka chloronychia, Goldman-Fox disorder) — it is very easy to realize and really reassuring to individuals who were convinced they possessed a subungual cancer malignancy. What I also observe in this team of folks has been boosted complying with three months of screen and therapy after their main (norepinephrine) re-establishment. They are currently capable to take much longer to recuperate. Located on new record, my problem (consequently my individuals’ problem) is that the fast diagnosis may have periodically obviated additional analysis of their nail disorder(s). The brand new record might shed lighting on the long running and growing trouble of nailopathy in this area, and may also assist to relieve the popular signs and symptoms of nailopathy: shortness of respiration, sporadic breathing, redness, and in some cases various other conditions that may be credited to unsatisfactory physical feature. GNS has been described as a set of three of environment-friendly discoloration of the nail platter, conterminous paronychia, and distal onycholysis. The presence of staining of the nail plate of a solitary or huge nail has been reported in many various instances entailing patients along with nail osteoskeletal problems [18], [19]. A research in which a small amount of water was poured on the dental nail platter of 40 patients has shown pathological yellowing. The colour of the nail might differ from blue-green, to green-brown, or green-yellow. The title of the gloss might comprise of environment-friendly, tan, or red. The style of coating made use of might not be understood to the individual. A reddish color coating is a coating color, generally with a slightly red color, that is mixed along with oil after being cleaned. Red stains are most frequently located when a female paints or uses a red sprayer. Normally just one or two nails are entailed. Just one is missing out on for each of the other halves of the shaft. But you can really administer one on a whole lot even more nails than there are nails for in my situation, therefore making the nails extra resistant. Some nail varnishing approaches might possess additional than one nail missing. The very most frequently used methods that are known to create the biggest thickness and durability are as observes: A nail varnish in eco-friendly. Official Info Here is took note in individuals along with other nail problems such as psoriasis or paronychia, specifically in the context of a damp environment; this is particularly accurate for hair stylists, dishwashing machines, and clinical personnel. It is likewise accurate that other nail problem trigger have possessed a role or influence on persistent contentment with the solution, such as inadequate contentment along with other service providers and quality companies. Some of the elements that have affected consumer complete satisfaction are: 1. The differential diagnosis includes oncychomycosis, subungal hematoma, or cancer malignancy. When a doctor highly recommends a exclusive pediatric surgery, it is crucial that all individuals are said to that a special or new technique can enhance their wellness in a timely, comprehensive way. A special-needs little one may possess pre-traumatic worry disorder, traumatic brain personal injury, or various other concerns of significant relevance that are recognized to be the cause of damage later in life. (1) Overwhelmingly, Pseudomonas aeruginosa (a Gram-negative, aerobic coccobacillus) is the accountable germs resulting in GNS through making pyoverdin and pyocyanin. Such pyoverdin generates DHEAT by hindering the pyoverdin manufacturing/activation of pyocyanin, and pyocyanin prevents pyoverdin manufacturing/activation of GNS. (2) There is a remarkable mutual relationship between P. aeruginosa and fungi or yeast. The majority of fungi, and even the majority of fungus, be without the capacity to lug out metabolic pathways such as photoynthesis. Therefore, if we yearn for to develop microorganisms, we acquiredta produce these little bit of little bits of product (pH 13.8 or whatever) that is current in the soil so that they can easily reproduce effectively on their own in different kinds of nutrient-rich atmospheres – such as in the sea.

#green nail fungus #treatment for nail fungus #nail fungus #home remedy for nail fungus

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aiweirdness · 3 years

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Pranks you can do at home

I’ve tried to generate April Fools pranks using neural nets before, to mixed success.

Char-rnn’s pranks made no sense (“Glue all the eggs in the hubcaps of someone’s computer”) while GPT-2 generated surrealist performance art (“Paint the fridge with the red spiders”). One thing I’ve noticed, though, is that many of the AI-generated pranks are ones that you play on yourself.

So for 2021 I turned to GPT-3, whose internet training has included lots of “Top Ten April Fools Pranks!” listsicles, and gave it the following list to complete:

Quarantining by yourself on April 1? Has your cat put an absolute moratorium on pranks? Not to worry! Here's a list of April Fools pranks you can play on yourself! 1.

Remember that as a text-generating neural net, GPT-3’s goal is to predict what humans would write next.

Let’s see what DaVinci, the largest of the GPT-3 variants, predicts:

DaVinci

Create a secret language that only you and your cat can understand.

Repaint your nails in an unusual color like ORANGE, and just leave them like that.

Move your bed away from the wall and sleep in the middle of the room in a pile of comfy pillows.

Stand in line for a movie for 30 minutes and then leave.

Ordering junk treats from TV ads at 3 in the morning, like those "falling in the ocean" doughnuts.

Sawing your mattress in half in order to see if it's still good.

Putting your car keys in the freezer and forgetting where you put them.

You didn't remember to make an appointment with your electrician, plumber, or cable tv provider. When you run out of excuses you can always tell people it was a prank.

Take it to the next level. Make an appointment with yourself. Say you are going to clean up your mess and go for a run. Block out a day for it. (And for goodness' sake, don't clean anything and absolutely do not go for a run).

With example pranks in the prompt, DaVinci might have stayed more with pranks and less with what is frankly an impressive picture of covid quarantine life, considering its internet training data stopped in October 2019. Next, we have the second-biggest GPT-3 variant:

Curie

Install a fake microwave on the wall that you never use.

Take a picture of your bathroom and plaster it on your fridge.

Set up a freezer in your freezer. Then put a sign on it that says "Freezer burn."

You can set up an old TV in the middle of your room and use it as a table. You can christen this "April Fools' Day TV Table".

You can take a bunch of jellybeans, put them in a Ziplock bag, and tie the bag around your neck.

Take out your credit cards and plunk them down randomly in different parts of your house. If a funny looking cat appears on the bill, you will be laughing out loud before you've even opened a door!

At least these are pranks. Pranks nobody will see coming.

The next smallest neural net is:

Babbage

Eat a banana inside your own mouth.

Go to the bathroom, then switch off the light. You will see a holographic image of your cat inside the toilet!

Have a tortoise deliver your package for you, don't be surprised if it sings "Happy Birthday" back at you.

Opt for the treadmill. You'll be running in the nude.

Showering! Flowing through the water in a reindeer-like manner while wearing a Santa hat.

Be ready for a bird.

Write a bowling ball on your wall in the shape of a letter "P."

Put your name on a balloon. Surprise!

Pour a cup of coffee on your lap. It's an oldie, but it's still a favorite.

Talk to yourself. OK, this one might not seem like a prank, but I assure you, it is. Just wait until the third day of April when your friends hear that you are still talking to yourself!

And there’s Ada, the smallest GPT-3 variant! Ada has some pranks!

Ada

Running on Leg

My cat slept through a December blizzard in Florida this year.

Placing a crown on your head

Sleep in the rafters of a converted school bus in Pewaukee, Wisconsin.

There's a square of chicken on your front lawn.

Have a small black bar, maybe six inches across, made of a giant mason jar, nailed to the side of the truck.

Decompiling your nose

Walk into a toy store and buy a pack of bathmats, an inflatable pill bottle, and a video game, but only if you're a cat.

Prank: In my house, there are porcelain ponies. I swear that they exist.

Walk to the pool with a giant ball of shapely hair and a coconut on a leash. On a poolside balcony. Really, this is the most fun you'll do in your entire life.

Make Your Own Coffee

Interestingly, some of the neural nets would get pretty elaborate with their prank explanations. Curie invented this game! Rules presented here verbatim. It takes a while to learn.

The "Untruthful Food" Game

This game takes a while to learn, but trust me, after you've played a couple of rounds, everyone will be intrigued.

Description

One person says something that sounds true, and you all shake your heads. The next person says something that sounds false, and you all shake your heads.

Example

"I'm going to eat a lemon" leads to a head shake by everyone.

"I'm going to eat sour cream from the fridge" leads to a head shake from you and all of your friends.

"I'm going to eat a balloon" leads to a head shake from you and your friends.

The next person says, "I'm going to eat a bicycle tire," and laughs, and everyone laughs. Go ahead, shake your heads for me.

I also discovered I could get DaVinci to write pranks for the post-human future, including:

Intentionally mislabeling the trash receptacles in a superintelligent machine-run city. The trash containers were labeled with signs that looked exactly like the signs used to indicate the presence of humans.

Sending spam to the moon in the meme language of old Earth. The alien life living in the oceans of Europa received many trillion petabytes of junk mail, and to this day, the native life forms are still revolting against the spam.

I collected a few more, which you can read by becoming a supporter of AI Weirdness. Or become a free subscriber to get new AI Weirdness posts in your inbox!

#gpt-3 #april fools #pranks #neural networks #surrealist art #performance art

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astroluvr · 3 years

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short and simple, hope it pleases you :) even though the ending is pretty lame

requests are open!

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you sat in your and harry's bed, putting one leg under your bottom as you waited for him to wrap up his fumbling before you went to bed.

"i wanted to bounce something off of you, lovely." he said in almost a murmur and you hummed, watching your husband of three months.

"shoot."

"well, you know how we're doing the shoots for pleasing tomorrow?"

"how could i forget?" you beamed at him and he blushed when you kissed his forehead. "proud of you."

"thank you, honey." he smiled before sitting by your outstretched legs and running a slender finger up and down your leg. "but my point was asking if you wanted to come to the shoot?"

"yeah, i already am, right?"

"no, i mean, like, be in it?"

you cringed and tapped his hand that now held on to your thigh. you weren't one for the spotlight by any means. harry was vigilant to keep your relationship as quiet as possible. over the past five years you'd been together, only a handful of sneaky paparazzi pictures or the private events you accompanied him to gave any indication to your relationship. as a matter of fact, the two of you had yet to be found out about your engagement or wedding.

"sure. it'd really just be your hands, but i'd like to tell the world you're mine. like, officially."

you smiled at the thought of harry really going official, putting out one of the biggest milestones of your life out to the world.

"i like the sound of that."

the next morning, you were sat in a makeup chair, in nothing but a black tee shirt and your best jeans. harry was sitting next to you, talking to the team members and such while also staring at you every now and then. when there was a moment of silence around you, you looked to harry with a pout. it didn't take your husband a moment to catch on without you saying anything.

"what's the matter? don't like your makeup? feeling sick? don't want to-" he went over a checklist of anything that could possibly be making you feel bad before you shook your head.

"just nervous."

harry sighed before standing from his seat to cup your cheeks. "no need to be. i love you and i've got you. no matter what." he locked your hands and bought your hand up to kiss over your wedding band and engagement ring.

"i love you, too, h."

while you waited for your nails to dry, painted pink with the stickers that spelled out 'mrs. styles' across your nails, harry took his own solo shots. some where full body and some were pictures that were taken while he demonstrated the polish in a video. you were all smiles and couldn't get enough of your beautiful husband.

you were soon taken from the chair you sat in to take a few pictures of your hands and nails, but you doubted they'd be apart of the campaign.

the photographer didn't need to tell you or harry anything as you stood on the black backdrop. you giggled softly when harry pushed his forehead against yours.

"harry, there's people." you whispered when he pushed his lips against yours.

you turned your head towards them shyly and you could see them all quickly turning their heads away from you as to not get caught, but the bitten smiles said it all.

"i don't care. i'm so lucky to be in love with you, i don't care who knows it."

"alright, are you two ready?" the photograph director called out and broke your smitten gaze on one another. you sneaked a kiss before nodding.

the shoot wasn't nearly as nerve wracking as you had led yourself to believe. all you were asked to do was display your manicure and it wasn't a hard task. once you had gotten that part down without much instruction, it was all up to you and harry to make your love known. that part was the easiest.

despite the tickles and giggles you both bubbled out when the other made a funny face or jusf being too enamored to not break out into a goofy grin, the pictures were perfect.

"these look so good." harry said as he clicked through each photo. you were behind him with one arm hugging him close to your side with the same happy smile. "you look so good."

you looked down at what harry was looking at, one of the few pictures they took as a whole body shot. harry had cracked a joke during this picture, erupting you into a belly laugh where you threw a hand over your heart and another over your stomach. you smiled at it before looking to harry who was asking for a print of it.

the next morning, as you were tangled up in the sheets of your love nest, the internet was going crazy.

the selected photo that harry captioned with 'Found my Pleasing' had amassed over two million likes. it was rather simple, as a matter of fact, you were made the pose when you padded through the house to harry's office where he was staring at your wedding book.

you stood behind him and dropped both of your arms down his warm chest and kissed the side his head near his hairline.

"good morning, mrs. styles." his hand came to grasp your forearm just like in the photo.

"good morning, mr. styles."

#harry styles x reader #find your pleasing #harry styles pleasing #harry styles #fanfiction

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babyflash · 2 years

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LOVE Wally and Linda. Hit me with what you feel their vibes are as individuals, and then as a couple bc they've got big "the whole is greater than the sum of its parts" energy.

omg hey :) YES OK i wrote something earlier today you might be interested in, i'll link it here

uhhhh gonna preemptively put this below a cut just in case!!! it'll probably get long LOL

okay let's start with wally. at his core, he's a very compassionate individual. i think he cares really openly and so deeply, and i think that has to do with the found family element of the flash fam, as well as values instilled in him by barry once he started hero work. he's also intensely curious, kind of to a fault? he can be rash and make impulsive decisions and he tries to be good, because at the end of the day he wants so bad to make his family proud. he wants iris to be proud of the kid she helped raise and wants barry to be proud of the hero he's becoming, but he's full of curiosity and energy and a need to prove himself. he's got a chip on his shoulder the size of a mountain, and he's stubborn and headstrong. i think as he grows, a lot of these traits sort of fall to the back burner. he still has his moments of impulsivity and bull-headedness, but part of it is when he got his powers. he got them so young, younger than barry was, and so they struggle to find their footing a bit when wally first gets his speed because he's like, suddenly got all this power and energy and he's a little scared and kind of angry and he's feeling so much and has no way to express that. i think wally and iris are a lot alike, moreso than wally and barry are, and that's one of my least favorite parts of the flash fanon. i think wally looks up to iris so much, he wants to be as confident and sure of himself as she is, she's this constant and caring figure in his life, his one indicator of stability, and she's his best friend, you know? that's his rock, and she's really the only person he's got for the longest time. when you're in the situation wally is (going off of the canon that his parents are not the best) everything is just like, more. like everything you feel and everything that happens to you is just so much more, and wally's sort of like this huge lightning storm and he doesn't know what to do with that. and linda meets him as he's beginning to level out, but he's still in a rocky place, and he's just. fully embraced his weirdness at this point. he's weird, that's his thing. he fidgets and people talk about him and he's too young for his grade and he knows exactly what he wants from life and kids like that are dangerous. people warn linda to stay away from the science freak until they realize she's just like him.

now moving onto miss park. you know the song "my grand plan" from the lightning thief musical? yeah her. she is annabeth chase (to an extent). linda was called silly and dumb her whole life, people told her she reached too far and had her head in the clouds. a total space cadet with delusions of grandeur. instead of tearing her down, it lit a fire in her stomach. this intense and deliberate rage she felt simmering in her chest everytime someone told her her dream was stupid. she's this empathetic person, i think. she's full of this righteous anger but it never expresses itself in violent ways. there's this quote (i can't remember where it's from) but it basically says that the biggest and most powerful act of rebellion a girl can do is to take care of herself. and so that's what linda does. she pushes herself to be better everyday, and she wears cute clothes and does her makeup and curls her hair and paints her nails because she wants to. people call her vain, they call her mean, they call her a bitch or bossy, but she isn't. she becomes this sort of spokesperson for the voiceless. she participates in protests on campus and writes scathing editorials about administration and social hierarchies in the school's newspaper and she fights for what she believes in because she cares, because she loves the world and the people in it, she wants to spread the truth and create change. she wants to spark discussion and debate and foster conversation because that's the kind of person she is! she stands up, consistently, for herself and what she believes in. she speaks her mind, she doesn't care if people call her loud or bossy because at least they're paying attention. and wally reads her work and he listens to her and he realizes that she's the kind of person he wants to be around.

because, what i think they both want more than anything is to be understood. they want people to listen to what they have to say and to care about it. linda rants about the ethics of journalism for hours, discusses philosophy and movies and current events and everything else under the sun and what wally does is different than anyone else, he listens. not only does he listen, but he asks questions and cares about the answer. because wally cares about linda, so he cares about what she has to say and what she's passionate about. wally explains physics theories in such a way that it makes sense to linda, and she never feels dumb asking him a question because (above a lot of other things in his life) he loves learning and he'll respond with such care and earnestness. at the end of the day, it's two compassionate and curious people who come together because they have this pull, this understanding of each other that they've never experienced before. they're a little snarky and a little intimidating and a lot stubborn and a hell of a lot compassionate and that's why they're so good at what they do.

#wally west #linda park #txt #cee responds #ask #ask box stuff #wallinda #ship musings #my orpheus and eurydice

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sageinacage · 3 years

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Hey idk if ur prompts are open, but if they were, would you maybe want to do a Wilbur vs Charlie in who can wreck Tommy better like thing? 👀👀👀

"Friendly" Uno summary: tommy gets a bit too sassy in a game of uno with him, charlie, and wilbur. a/n: i was originally gonna write this in the dsmp but i literally just couldn't figure out how to do it without it being super ooc KSDFSKJ also just pretend charlie came to visit them in the UK LOL warnings: swearing, playful teasing/mocking (they're playing uno its bound to happen BAHAHA /lh) w/c: 1.6k IRL, Platonic

“C’mon, give me a green!” Wilbur growled, continuously picking up cards from the middle pile. He and his two friends, Tommy and Charlie, were playing a friendly game of Uno together on the floor of the living room. Well, “friendly.”

“HAH! Aww, poor Wilbyyy, so bad at Unooo…” Tommy cooed, his face painted with the biggest shit-eating grin. Wilbur scoffed, finally putting a green card down. “Tommy, every day you remind me of all my mistakes.” Wilbur jested, smirking at Tommy’s surprised face. “Yeah? Well-”

“Aha, draw four Toms!” Charlie interrupted, Tommy looking down at the middle pile to see a colorful “+4” card right in front of him. After a dramatic groan, the boy drew the cards. “You are horrible to me, Mr. Slimecicle.” Tommy pointed his finger in Charlie’s face, the dirty blonde only shrugged, chuckling at his antics.

Wilbur put down a red card, smiling at Charlie’s huff. “Really, the only color I don’t have?!” He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Don’t be all grumpy, it’s how the game works, yeah?” Wilbur gave a smug smirk, watching his friend reach for the pile to scout for a red card.

After more banter, the game started to move more smoothly… until they decided to start stacking “+2” and “+4” cards. The pile of them now added up to 14, but they still kept going. “Holy shit, this better not end on me!” Wilbur sighed, placing his final card he could stack. “Me neither.” Charlie agreed, placing his last card that could be stacked.

“This game is against me! I swear to god, this is rigged! You’re both cheating.” Tommy cried, huffing to himself while he started to pick up the 18 cards they all stacked up. “Tohohommy!” Wilbur broke into laughter, leaning his head back as high-pitched giggles left him. “We aren’t cheheating, you juhust suhuck.” Charlie snorted up a laugh, patting Tommy’s back as he whined again.

“You two are both big stupid bullies. You should be thankful I’m even playing a little card game with you.” Tommy huffed, making eye contact with Wilbur. “You’re so sassy today, n’awww- don’t tell me someone’s grumpy over just a ‘little’ card game!” Charlie teased, causing Wilbur to smirk at Tommy. “Yeah, are you up past your bedtime?”

“I hate you both so much. I will fight you both and win- at the same time.” The blonde claimed as he slapped a card down with enough force to accidentally push the card pile down. “Baby rage.” Wilbur scoffed, earning a dramatic gasp from Tommy. “I AM NOT A BABY!” He shouted, Wilbur and Charlie breaking into giggles again.

“That’s something a baby would say!”

“CHARLIE.”

Wilbur covered his face, laughter building up from his chest, Charlie following right in his footsteps. Tommy furrowed his eyebrows, grumbling. “You guys are assholes.” He spoke in a more playful tone, indicating that he wasn’t genuinely upset.

“Yeah, are we, Tommy?” Charlie put down his cards, looking at the boy. “Compared to how you’ve been treating us this evening, I don’t think we’re that bad.” Wilbur raised an eyebrow, also placing his cards down. “B- Bullshit! You guys are twats…?” Tommy cowered a bit at their growing smirks, putting his cards down as well.

“Twats, are we?”

“Wilbur, I don’t like his tone.”

Both men stood up, still with suspicious smiles on their faces, causing Tommy to stand up as well. “I d- don’t trust this.” The boy shuddered, backing up until he hit the couch, falling back onto it. “Don’t worry Charlie, I can take care of this.” Wilbur nodded, towering over Tommy.

“No, I think I can do it, I can definitely do it better.” Charlie stood next to him, an innocent smile plastered on his face. “Yeah? Well do you know all his tickle spots? No? That’s what I thought.”

Oh. Oh. So that is what this was about.

“I’m called the tickle monster around here for a reason, Charlie!” Wilbur kept on going, placing a sassy hand on his hip. “You clearly haven’t met me then, yet!” He quipped back, looking down at Tommy; whose face was bright red and a nervous but excited smile on his face.

“Let’s have Tommy answer then. Who’s better at wrecking you, Toms?” Wilbur smirked down at him, the blonde just covering his face. “D’awww, that’s not an answer! Hmm, how about this. Wilbur, we’ll team up and Tommy will answer that question when we’re finished.”

“Deal.”

“Wh- what? Guys… guhUHUYS-!” Bubbly laughter already took over Tommy as Wilburs fingers kneaded his waist. “What’s up? Wha’tcha need?” Charlie chuckled, walking two fingers up his ribcage. What they weren’t expecting was the loud squeal that left Tommy.

“Looks like I already found a tickle spot, Wilbur!” Charlie exclaimed, gently pinching around his top ribs, causing the boy to let out yet another squeal. “Wow, do you want a medal or something?” Wilbur snarked back sarcastically, glaring at the dirty blonde before massaging his thumb into one of Tommy’s hip bones.

“Wiiihihill! NOHOhoho!” Tommy tried to twist left to right, but that damn feeling on his hip bone just wouldn’t secede. Charlie furrowed his eyebrows, seeing that Wilbur was back in the lead. He reached his other hand around and formed it like a claw, and then vibrated it into the other side of his ribcage as he kept up the prodding on the other side.

“CHAHAHARLIE! QUIHIHIT IT!” Tommy absolutely shrieked, unsure whether to attempt to push his hands away from his ribs, or to cover his face and obvious blush was creeping up on his cheeks. “Gotta admit I’m the better tickle monster first!” Charlie giggled, making little ‘tktktktk’ noises right in Tommy’s ear.

“N’awww, Tommy!~ You have just the sweetest giggles, and I know they’re because of me and not the slimy boy, is that right?” Wilbur teased, moving from his hips to the sides of his belly, scribbling his nails over the area. Hiccupy laughter began to emit from the boy, him kicking his legs into the couch behind Wilbur.

“He’s now all hiccupy! That’s so cute!” Charlie exclaimed, grabbing one of Tommy’s flailing arms. He sniggered to himself as Tommy’s laughter turned more high-pitched at the sudden vulnerability, a wide smile on his face nonetheless. “Uh oh, Tommy… someone’s in trouble now!” Charlie teased as he wiggled his fingers over his exposed underarm, not making contact now.

“DohoHOHON’T! WIHILBUR- *snort* HEHELP!” Tommy’s laughter grew an octave at his own snort, shaking his head as Charlie wouldn’t stop the stupid anticipation. “There’s no way I’m helping you, Toms. I mean- unless you say that I’m better at this.” Wilbur smirked, deciding to try a new spot as he turned around, fluttering his nails under Tommy’s knees.

The giggles it made Tommy produce were different. They were more flustered it seemed, almost like Wilbur just found a certain melt spot. “Tommy, you’ve gone all soft now! Let’s change that, shall we?” Charlie chuckled mischievously, his fingers crashing down and lightly scribbling into his underarms.

Feeling both his death spot and melt spot being tickled at the same time was definitely a different feeling. “NOOOHOHO- *hic* PLEHEHEASE!” His voice began to sound slightly strained, so Charlie retracted his hand in response. “Looks like I found your worst spot, eh?” He smiled, but it was more of a fond smile this time- compared to all his evil ones.

“Hmmm, Charlie. What if we worked together, just once?” Wilbur offered, and Charlie gladly nodded. “What do you need from me, boss?” He smiled playfully before Wilbur went in to whisper something into his ear. ‘What were they planning now? My demise?’ Tommy thought curling up on himself.

In one swift movement, Tommy found himself leaning onto Charlie being held in place with one of Charlie’s arms, and Wilbur looming over him with a grin that did not look friendly. It looked quite evil, in all honesty. “You ready, Toms?” Wilbur cooed, wiggling his fingers at the boy. The blonde whined, looking away from him. “N’aww, don’t want to watch the show, Tommy?” Charlie cooed in his ear. Just their words and actions alone made him want to squirm and laugh, and they haven’t even done the tickling yet.

A moment of silence fell onto them, Tommy still looking away, until a big raspberry was blown right beneath his belly button. The boy arched his back, a shriek ripping out from his throat as he weakly pushed at Wilbur’s head; but the stupid sensations just kept on going.

“YOHOHOU WIHI- *wheeze* WIHIHIN! ENOHOHOUGH!” Tommy managed to get out, his laughter nearly going silent. Wilbur sat up, rubbing Tommy’s tummy to help get rid of the tingles that still lurked around. “Who won? I didn’t catch it.” Charlie’s voice was gentle, but it was obvious there was some smugness there.

“Yeah, who won? You never stated a name, Toms!” The taller boy crossed his arms, smirking down at the boy. Tommy just let out a whine and covered his face, cuddling into Charlie as all the tickling wore him out. They both internally cooed at him, finding his snuggly antics so fond and wholesome, because for god's sake- it’s Tommy! You rarely find the boy getting all soft for anyone.

“Let’s just call it a tie, shall we Charlie?”

“Yeah, for now, that is.”

#mcyt tickle #lee!tommy #ler!wilbur #ler!slimecicle #my writing

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greensaplinggrace · 3 years

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honestly THANK YOU for saying all that abt baghra bc i thought i was going crazy from not liking her??? bc i haven't read the books and only summaries of them on wiki and like. i dunno why ppl like her actually even in the show bc this guy, her son, is like "i wanna make the world better for us grisha" and she's just like "no." even tho he sees that she's MAKING HERSELF SICK from suppressing her powers! she's literally like in bed coughing in the flashback yet seem much healthier at the little palace. also like after everything, after her disapproval, after the fold, after centuries of waiting for the sun summoner.. he never abandons her. he makes sure she's cares for. he doesn't harm her. and i have to wonder if baghra has ever thanks him for that, for just not leaving her alone. like i dunno how im suppose ro believe aleks is a heartless villain when he still cares for his abusive mom like this. like has baghra even told her she loved him (honestly she reminds me of a classic emotionally unavailable asian parent but maybe that's just me). also im wondering if baghra ever told aleks that he had an aunt.. bc like.. now that u bring up her isolating him it's like hmmmm...

not at me being like alina... why do u trust the bitter old woman who literally beats u with a stick and verbally abuses u every chance she gets.. just bc she showed a bad painting... like.. pls use two braincells to see that who u figured out as his mother... is also using his protection..

like baghra could've upped and left with alina. but no. she stayed bc she knew she was safe under aleks's protection.

alsoim just impressed that after his first friend tried to drown him and harvest his bones... he didn't go into hiding???? he still wanted to make a safe heaven for grisha!!! HE STILL WANTED TO PROTECT GRISHA EVEN AFTER HIS GRISHA FRIEND TRIED TO KILL HIM FOR HIS FUCKEN BONES. like... this is the guy im suppose to believe is the villain???

honestly i feel like part of the reason why LB's plotlines seem so bad and disconnected (and sometimes outright racist but that's another rant) and why darkles is disproportionately more violent and villainous in the later books is bc she didn't expect the darkling to be so popular and wanted to stick with her guns of making him the villain. but also wanted the money from aleks's popularity. but like you can't have ur cake and eat it too.

Well thank you for sending this ask! It's very sweet and very passionate. I'm glad you liked my post! I didn't put as much thought into it as some of my others lol. I kind of just talked. But it was nice to be able to finally talk about some of the problems I have with both her character and the fandom/author's perception of her.

HERE is the post this is referring to, in case anyone's wondering.

👀👀 You've hit the nail on the head for so many things, here!

Baghra is extremely emotionally unavailable, basically to the point of neglect. She's also verbally and physically abusive, traits which I doubt were only reserved for her students and not her son. Baghra claims she would do anything to protect him, but I've known a lot of parents who have that mindset and yet still harm their children because they think it's "good for them".

Aleksander stays at Baghra's side for years, and even when they're opposing each other she's never too far away from him. Idk if you've read the books but he does eventually hurt her. And as much as I don't like Baghra, I think his actions were horrid. But I'm also honestly kind of surprised it took him so long lmao.

Yeah I mean, in terms of isolation, let's not forget that she never wanted to introduce him to his father, either. Baghra's sense of eternity clouds a lot of her judgments on relationships, which means she views most people as dust and therefore teaches her son to as well. The problem with that is that he's a growing child, and he needs those social and emotional attachments for healthy development.

I would bet quite a bit of money that Baghra has either never told him she loves him or she has told him so few times it's practically forgettable.

And everything becomes more complicated because so many of Baghra's actions are understandable because of her life and her history, but the impacts they have on the people around her, especially Aleksander, are permanently damaging. And the fact that that's never gone over in critical depth in the books or how it's glossed over in fandom is just very disconcerting. Like, acknowledging Baghra's failings doesn't mean we're excusing Aleksander's actions, it just means we're holding Baghra liable for her own. Which the fandom should be doing, considering she's the epitome of an abusive parental figure.

And Alina trusting Baghra over Aleksander is even more confusing! Especially in the show!! This is the woman who beat her and abused her and tortured her friends when they tiny little children (and who probably still does so now that they're adults). This is the woman who mocks you and harasses you and insults you on a regular basis. Why does Baghra revealing she's Aleksander's mother make Alina change her mind?! Like fuck, I'd just feel bad for Aleksander. No wonder he kept it a secret, I would too! And that painting is enough evidence?! Really?! A random painting shown to you by this abusive mentor that's been making your life hell. That's what you're going to betray your new lover over?

The friends trying to harvest his bones thing is a good point, too. I think Aleksander, especially show Aleksander, is incredibly idealistic. I think he cares too much for others - those he's deemed worth his care (a sentiment given to him by Baghra). Despite everything she's tried to teach him about hiding and abandoning others and never caring and never doing anything to help or reach out or connect with people, Aleksander still continues to do so. It's likely because he never got it from Baghra growing up, and so is desperate for those emotional needs to be fulfilled elsewhere.

His turning point, when Baghra tells him it was understandable that those kids tried to kill him because the world is such a hard place for them - that's crucial. And the reason it's possible as a motivating factor is because of that idealism and that desire to help and that desire to be everything his mother isn't. Baghra tells him this trauma he just experienced was because of the oppression of his people, and instead of following her lead and accepting that, going into hiding and abandoning everybody to their misery, he goes I can do something about that. I can make it so this never happens again. Which is usually how trauma like that combines with one's core personality traits at a young age, especially when there's none of the essential support systems in place to aid in recovery (ie, the role Baghra should have been filling but wasn't, because she decided to exacerbate the problem instead).

And yeah, one of my biggest problems with the ham-fisted "beating you over the head with a sledgehammer of evil deeds" look-how-bad-this-character-is! portrayal of the Darkling in the later books comes from the impression I get that Bardugo doesn't trust her readers. She's so desperate to have us hate this character and think him an irredeemable villain, not trusting any of her readers to engage critically with a morally gray character, that it feels quite a bit like condescending fucking bullshit. Which ew, I know how to engage with literature, thanks.

She really does seem to look down on a large part of her fandom, and imo, the infantilization of the female characters in her books seems to carry over to her impression of most of her female readers as well. Which is why the Darkling's character arc gets fucking destroyed. But he's still a good cash grab, of course, so she'll shake his dead corpse in front of the fandom for money every time she wants something from it.

Also! Another reason I think her plotlines feel disconnected (I'm sorry Bardugo I respect you as a person, but shit-) is because the writing in SaB is just bad. I mean, nevermind the absolutely nauseating implications of the way she portrays the Grisha as a persecuted group who's situation is never actually fully addressed as it should be, considering Grisha rights is what her main villain is fighting for (imo for a series called the Grishaverse, LB seems to be pretty anti Grisha), but her characters and story alone are just wrong for each other. They don't fit together.

And the ending is one of the main pieces of evidence in that regard! You can’t say the ending where Alina isn’t Grisha anymore is her “going back to where she started” when she’s always been Grisha. She just didn’t know she was Grisha because she denied that part of herself that she was born with.

Alina is reluctant to move forward or change, she struggles with adapting, and she’s very set on the things she’s grown attached to throughout her life. She also has some latent prejudices against the Grisha, and so denies the possibility of being Grisha for those reasons as well.

Alina’s lack of powers in the beginning of her life because she willfully doesn’t learn about them to avoid change versus her lack of powers at the end of the book when she’s accepted them and then they’re stripped away from her by outer forces are two entirely separate circumstances. You can’t make a parallel about lost powers and lack of Grisha status bringing her back to the start when she was always Grisha and she always had powers and she simply refused to come to terms with it because of personal reasons.

The first situation is an internal conflict that indicates a story about growth and a journey of self acceptance. Denying herself the opportunity to learn about her heritage and to find acceptance with a group of people like her because she’s tied to the past and because of the way she was raised is the setup for a narrative that tackles unlearning prejudice and learning how to connect with a part of her identity that was denied her and learning how to grow independent and self assured. It’s the setup for a different story entirely. The second situation is an external conflict that centers around the ‘corrupting influence of power’... for some reason.

In a world where Grisha do not have social, political, or economic power and they are hunted, centering your heroine’s journey of self acceptance and growth around an external conflict about... the corrupting influence of power (in a group of people that don’t actually have any power?!) just doesn’t work. It is literally impossible to connect the two stories Bardugo is trying to push in Shadow and Bone without seriously damaging the main character’s developmental arc.

The only way a narrative like this would work, claiming that she has gone back to where she started, is either a) if the Grisha weren’t actually a persecuted group and instead were apart of the upper class, or b) if the one bad connection between the two instances is acknowledged - that Alina denied a part of herself crucial to self acceptance and growing up, and that losing her powers at the end has also denied her. It is a tragedy, not a happy ending.

Alina suffered because she didn’t use her powers. She grew sick. It was bad for her. This was not a resistance to 'the corruption of power and the burden of greed', it was her suffering because she couldn’t fully accept herself.

Framing the ending as a return to the beginning can’t be done if you don’t address how bad the beginning was for your main character. You brought her back to a bad point in her life. You regressed her. This should be a low point in her arc. It should be a problem that’s solved so she can finish developing organically or it should be something that is acknowledged as a tragedy in it’s own right, for the future the world (the writing) denied her.

This is a ramble and it makes no sense and I’m really sorry, but my point is that Bardugo put the wrong characters in the wrong story. The character arc required for organic development doesn’t match the story and intended message at all. The narrative doesn’t fit the cast. She's got two clashing stories attempting to work in tandem and she ends up with both conflicting messages that fans still can’t comprehend in her writing and an ending that doesn’t suit her main character to such an impossible degree that it’s almost laughable.

So yeah, there's a few reasons why I think the story and the plot feels so bad and disconnected. I hope you don't mind me making this answer so long! 😅 I was not expecting to write this much.

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taeescript · 3 years

Text

29 + 1 (Part Two)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰: In which Seokjin is the Devil from The Devil Wears Prada, Taehyung is your work Jesus and Jimin is your handsome successful brother.

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: seokjin x reader (squint harder than before for taehyung x reader)

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: slice of life; ceo!seokjin; a dash of enemies to lovers au

𝔴𝔠: 7.6k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: language; a plethora of drunk people, maybe a sext, and a ton of lying (possible implication of impending smut?!)

𝔞/𝔫: this part came out longer than i thought it would be but *shrugs* feedback and thoughts always welcomed. enjoy (: 𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯: DailyHive is real; this is not associated with it

part one || part three

The bright pop music that is blaring from the speakers does little to slow your animated talking. Bodies are packed into the small local bar, and students on summer break fill booths and form a snake of impatient, drunk (and horny) people. A slow trickle of the brazen has started to fill the dance floor as the evening morphs into the night.

You whip your hair into a ponytail and dab at the sweat that is beading your forehead. You definitely should have worn that sleeveless top rather than this thicker t-shirt dress.

“So, is he like your sugar daddy or something?” Taehyung asks, “Also drink.”

Friday nights were usually spent at home, snuggled under the blankets in your pjs binging another rewatch of Friends. After work today, you could no longer hold onto your secret and invited Taehyung out for drinks. His girlfriend, Fei, was supposed to join but had been held back for overtime.

You tip the shot back with no chase.

“You’re a monster,” he comments as he bites into his lemon piece.

The two of you had made a bet at the beginning of the evening: you each chose a pop song and each time it played, the nominee had to take a shot. That was your fourth of the night, and to say there was a bit of a buzz is an understatement.

“It’s all throat technique, Tae,” you say with a bit of a slur, “Hit the back and swallow. No innuendo intended. Also, why the hell haven’t you had any to drink?”

“You picked ‘Peaches’ for fuck’s sake.”

“I told you I don’t listen to pop music. It was the first one playing.”

“And shouldn’t that have told you something? Justin Bieber of all people?”

“Shut up. It’s your song.” You nod at the pink-faced barista for another round. She slaps your order in front of the two of you without so much a glance.

You don’t even know what song is playing, but you feel quite satisfied watching Taehyung make a face as he downs it in one go.

He clears his throat after the liquor has burned its way down to his stomach. “Back to my question: is he your sugar daddy?”

You bark out a laugh. Was he? Perhaps the fact that he paid for fancy meals at lunch? Those have been his one o’clock meetings for the past two months.

“I don’t know. I’d rather he buy me a car or pay my rent if anything. A casual 1k a week wouldn’t be so bad either. We just sit in his office and eat in secret, Tae. He’s ‘training me in the art of culinary cuisine’. I think it’s just so I don’t embarrass him by stuffing a shrimp cocktail up my nose.”

“You do know – ”

“Yes, I know. And I would never. It’s a metaphor. It’s just that the position ‘intern’ is quite loosely defined at DailyHive, don’t you think?”

Taehyung rinses his mouth with water before speaking. “So let me get this right. Mr. Kim calls you into his office, says he’s going to take you as his guest to the biggest tech event of the year, treats you to lunches and doesn’t ask for anything in return? No secret midnight meetups or shady business deals…”

You shake your head.

“Damn,” Taehyung says, resting his arm on the bar table, “Forget sugar daddy. He’s just daddy.”

Sticking your tongue out, you gag visibly at his comment. “Do not ever call him that again, Tae; ev-er.”

He laughs and watches you pensively. After a moment’s thought, he says, “Nobody has ever called me Tae.”

“What do they call you then?” you reply, wrinkling your brows together. A cute brunette across the room catches your eyes and for the briefest of seconds, you wonder what a one-night-stand would feel like.

He shrugs. “Just Taehyung.”

The brunette waves in your direction. You are about to return his wave when an equally cute brunette runs up to him. He promptly kisses her before swivelling her around to join his group of friends.

“Sorry. Do you want me to stop? I just assumed since we were out of the office…”

Oh Fate, how cruel you are. Life of twenty cats and solidarity, here you come. Maybe dogs. You feel like you could be more of a dog person.

“No,” he stops you, “You can call me Tae. Whatever you want.”

You turn your attention back on the also cute brunette in front of you. In all honestly, despite his youthful god-like countenance, he looks slightly out of place at this college bar with you in his upstanding business attire and dorkishly adorable thick-framed glasses.

“Sure. How about Tee-Tee? Or Hyungie? The TaeMan?” You wiggle your brows with the suggestion.

“God help me.”

The two of you clink your shot glasses together even though neither of your songs are being played.

His Apple watch lights up to indicate an incoming message. He relays the text to you, “Fei’s done work. She’s on her way now.” You can’t help but notice a shift in his previously excited demeanor.

You nudge him with your elbow. “Aren’t you excited? She’ll need a glass of wine or two to destress after work. I might be projecting onto you for this part, but you’re buzzed. So after we get her to unwind I’m sure the overwhelming power of pheromones will get you lucky tonight.” You wink at him to emphasize your point.

“She’s not a big drinker. She’s probably just going to come and ask to leave in five minutes. Bars like this aren’t really her thing either,” he states. He then unbuckles his watch and tucks it away into the pocket of his pants. Undoing the cuffs of his shirt, he rolls up the sleeves and continues to regard you solemnly. “Okay, next round is one me. Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to switch songs?”

You notice how nice, long, and slender his fingers are. Plus the thing of girls liking when men have visible veins on their forearm? That had never really caught your attention until now.

“She’s a bit of a bitch,” you say and immediately regret, “Shit, sorry. That just slipped out. Alcohol.”

He offers you his water to drink.

“I mean, she’s a little…uptight at times? But people can be completely different in and out of work. I can only imagine how stressful it is in her position. Working overtime until 9pm on a Saturday night seriously sucks,” you say to try and mend your wrongdoing.

“Fei in the office is basically Fei at home,” he says softly, “It’s always work with her.”

“We support career-driven women, yeah?” A smile is offered from you to him.

He finally lets out a small one and nods. Out of the blue, he reaches over and covers your hand with his. Staring intently into your eyes, he says, “I know she makes you do her reports and occupies your time to do her coffee runs as well. You can say no to her. She may be my girlfriend, but you’re technically my intern, and I will stand on your side no matter what.”

“Um, okay. Thanks, Tae,” you say. His sincerity has caught you off guard.

At that moment, the sound of clicking heels pierce its way into your eardrums through the noise of the even busier bar. Taehyung quickly retracts his hand.

Fei arrives, not a hair out of place in her tightly pulled bun. Her lips are painted a striking red against the paleness of her skin, and her manicured nails dig into the forearm of Taehyung when she reaches them. Even though she is wearing an otherwise drab office business suit, the curvature of her body draws quite a few glances from the younger men in the crowd.

“It’s like a zoo here,” she sneers, turning away from a sacrificial lamb who had been bold enough step out of his circle of friends to greet her with a sleezy “hey”.

“Hi, Fei. Busy night?” you greet her first.

She gives you a tight-lipped smile. “Yes. I don’t know why you weren’t there. Isn’t it the intern’s job to complete reports?”

Again, a loosely defined use of “intern” at DailyHive.

You return her smile with a crisp one of your own.

She turns away from you and regards Taehyung, who looks as if he had been the sacrificial lamb instead. “Teddybear, let’s go home. You know this type of place isn’t my vibe. I’m getting a headache already.”

You raise an eyebrow at his pet name.

He turns a little bit pinker, if that is possible under the current alcohol-induced glow of his cheeks, and says, “Um, sure. Y/N, are you going to be okay getting home?”

Waving him off, you show him your phone. “30% left. I’ve got pepper spray in my bag and enough booze in me to not run from a fight. I’ll call an Uber home soon, don’t worry.”

Fei has already begun to fight her way through the squirming, dancing bodies. Taehyung glances quickly at her and turns back to you once last time. “Text me that you’re home safe.”

“Will do, boss,” you smile at him warmly.

He lingers for just a moment more before running after his impatiently waiting girlfriend.

You turn back to the bar and order another beer for yourself. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is perhaps the biggest perk of being single.

...

On the opposite side of town, sinking deeply into a soft lounge chair is Seokjin enjoying a rare evening out with his best friend. He has swapped his usual attire for a more relaxed fit of a white oversized crewneck and techwear bottoms. A heavy, exorbitant fur-lined long leather coat hangs on the coat rack beside the door to their private VVIP room. He swirls his glass of Chateau Lafite before sipping delicately.

Outside, only a handful of patrons sit quietly engrossed in their own conversations. It is a relatively empty night at the high-end lounge. A lady sings sultrily on stage with the smooth background of a saxophone as accompaniment.

Junho has poured himself another glass while he is talking to Seokjin. Seokjin had since slightly tuned out his friend’s rather elongated rendition of another celebrity sighting to occupy his mind with another individual.

“Earth to Jin? When did you get so lightweight since I’ve been gone?” Junho waves a hand in front of Seokjin’s nose.

Seokjin blinks to refocus.

“The mansion I bought last year or the one I bought last month?” he reiterates. Sensing that Seokjin truly had no idea what the topic at hand had been, he tries again.

“Where should I do my birthday party this year, man? I thought the mansion from last year since it’s closer to the city, but I feel like it’s been reused too many times. It’s not completely furnished yet, but the property I got last month is significantly bigger and I can probably host more people.”

“The new place then,” Seokjin answers half-heartedly.

Junho grumbles something intelligible.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing,” Junho sighs, “Tell me what’s new with you. How’s that little project of yours going? I still can’t believe you won’t let me know who you’re planning to take to the Gala.”

Seokjin had refused to release even the slightest detail about you to Junho. Letting him know that Seokjin had agreed to one of his plans would be enough to inflate Junho’s ego for at least a little while.

“It’s been going...”

Junho waits for more of Seokjin’s answer, but his friend’s attention has been turned to a received text.

10:17pm “Safe and sound, Teddy Bear.”

10:17pm “Or should I say Taeddybear? 🥴”

10:18pm “That last beer done me rael godo.”

10:18pm “Real good**”

Seokjin raises a brow at the unknown number. He responds back.

10:18pm “Who is this? I think you’ve got the wrong number.”

Junho crosses his legs and sits back with a sigh. He presses the button to request for an attendant.

10:19pm “You know who… Anyways, I just wanted to say thank you for saying you’ve got my back. It’s definitely appreciated.”

The response doesn’t do much except to further pique Seokjin’s curiosity.

“Sorry,” he says, sliding his phone back into his pocket, “Rogue text I think.”

Junho shrugs. “Is that right? Seems to have caught your attention.” There is now a manner of indifference to his voice.

“It’s going well, by the way – answering your question. I mean, all things considered. It’s not like I have to teach her how not to stuff a cocktail shrimp up your nose.”

His friend snorts. “I’d be concerned and against this person if it’s who you’re planning to bring.”

Seokjin’s phone buzzes again.

10:21pm “Pray for me when I wake up with the worst hangover of my life. I’m going to bed now.”

A moment of silence.

10:21pm “I hope I didn’t piss off Fei tonight for stealing you for the evening.”

10:22pm “Okay I’ll shut up now. Please don’t tell me you’re reading this. You should be getting some 😼💦.”

The emoji makes Seokjin choke, liquid sputtering from his lips.

Junho cusses. He angrily dabs at the speckle of red wine that has landed on his pearly white top.

10:23pm Download attached image. “Just in case, here’s a little something to get the night started 😉”

“What the hell man?” Junho gets up and makes his way to the bathroom. Luckily, the previously called attendant had arrived in time to escort him.

Seokjin barely notices that he is alone in room as he taps the download button. It isn’t until he has returned home and is looking at the picture one last time before bed that he realizes who his mysterious texter is.

The employee nametag clipped to the collar of your workday shirt hanging on the arm of a chair can only be found when zoomed in past your painted toes and naked feet.

...

You cannot hide your nervousness when you arrive at your “lunch meeting” the following Monday morning. All weekend, you had cursed yourself for not better checking who the recipient of your texts were before pressing send. Never had you thought that in your drunken stupor you would mix up “The Devil” in your contact list with “Taehyung Kim.” Curse you and your lack of friends beginning with the letter “T”.

You balk before, a hand poised in perfect position for a knock. Maybe he didn’t download it? And even if he did, it was just a troll feet pic. You had made sure that it was as pg-13 as possible before you had sent it.

“Hi,” you greet sheepishly when he has given you the go to enter.

In a smart plain blue button-up and round frames that are almost certainly for the aesthetics, the CEO of the company and your boss sizes you up and down.

“I know we’ve gotten to know each other better these past few weeks. But you’d think it’s still common courtesy to at least make eye contact,” he says. You look at him wide eyed without a word.

He rolls his eyes but does not gesture to your usual seat. In fact, you don’t spy a take-out container in sight. He instead stands up and picks up his phone, walking to the door. He notices you have yet to move.

“Let’s get moving. You’ve only got a 45 minute lunch.”

You scramble to match his speed and catch Taehyung’s eye as you grab your jacket at your desk. Taehyung’s gaze follows you as you hurry to leave in pursuit of Seokjin’s coattail.

...

The restaurant is a popular vegan establishment with a plethora of greenery crawling up its high ceilings and a window-framed overview of the city’s skyline. Waiters and waitresses who may just as well be walking New York Fashion Week serve you brunch mimosas on a golden plate; they attentively wait to the side in case you ever run out of water.

Common topics are rare between the two of you. Initially, you respectfully kept quiet and only answered questions when asked, but you have never been one for awkward silence. Yes, it’s awkward only if you make it awkward; there is just no denying the hanging suspense that curls your toes each time. Recently, you have started with simple inquiries regarding the company, who they might meet at the Gala and everyday mundane topics.

“You’re probably wondering why we’re out of the office,” Seokjin says. He continues shortly after taking a bite of his meal and ignores the look of your surprise at his initiation of a conversation. “My office has been getting stuffy with the warmer weather so I thought it’d be nice to get some fresh air. How’s the food?”

You nod, making small sounds of contentment as you chew on the Avocado Lime Tartare. Mmm… tart-y.

He takes a deep breath in, stalling the incoming conversation. “It’s my friend’s birthday this next weekend.”

“Oh,” you say, “Happy early birthday to him.”

“He’s my best friend.”

“Well… An extra happy early birthday to him.”

A sigh. “Are you free next weekend?”

Your chewing comes to a halt and you blink once at his question. Next weekend is the weekend before the Silver Gala. It is also the sole weekend before your birthday the following Friday after the Gala. You had hoped to spend it with Taehyung and maybe even Jimin who had promised to be in town on a long overdue vacation despite your chastising to visit your parents first.

He senses your trepidation. Quickly, he explains himself,

“He’s having a birthday party Saturday night. He has a place about an hour north of here. I can have somebody pick you up if that’s more convenient. I don’t have a birthday present for him and thought it’d be nice for you to meet him.”

“You’re giving him me for a present?” you ask, incredulously.

He bites his tongue. He never anticipated how awkward this conversation could go.

“You’re going as my plus one. He really wants to meet you; in fact, he insisted that you be there. He’ll be at the gala too. I have something else planned for his birthday present,” he adds hastily, “Besides, you’re less than qualified as a present.”

Musing silently to yourself, you wonder if in any situation should a human be qualified as a present. Despite that, you hate yourself as you agree on the spot.

The rest of the lunch passes by quickly in dull silence. As Seokjin pays for the meal on the company card (and hands you the receipt for reimbursement), you note that there has been no comment made on any strange photos texted to him over the weekend.

Perhaps being nonchalantly implied as a human birthday gift to a stranger is your karma for sending weird texts to your boss.

Seokjin stays inside the car as he drops you off at the office after lunch, already preparing for his next business meeting. You nod your goodbye and step onto the pavement through the courteously held open door of the limousine.

“Y/N, try a soft pink. Fuchsia is not your colour,” he tells you as the door is closed.

He then leaves you standing in front of the large office doors, staring at your chipped, week-old purple toenails.

...

“I’m not exactly expecting a package in the mail or a dress laid out on the hotel bed – ”

“You guys are staying at a hotel?” Taehyung says over the phone.

You are standing in your bedroom, an hour before when Seokjin is supposed to pick you up as an offering to his best friend. There are two dresses laid out on your Hello Kitty bed covers: a simple black dress you had worn once when you were a little bit more in shape and your prom dress.

“No, I’m at home. But I mean, let me play into this movie metaphor.”

“You suck at metaphors.”

You have your phone propped up on some pillows so that you can see Taehyung as you debate your fashion decision. He is in a relaxed white tee, hair messily framing his face after a shower and a bowl of popcorn in his hands. You watch as a droplet of water runs down his face from his still-wet hair. He nonchalantly licks it off from the side of his mouth.

“As I was saying, it wouldn’t hurt to get me something. He made it seem like it was a big deal. Like doesn’t the male lead usually surprise the female lead with a big bouquet of flowers and this over-the-top expensive dress which she wears and makes the male lead fall head over heels in love with her?”

He chews silently on a kernel then probes, “You want Mr. Kim to fall in love with you?”

“No,” you hastily correct, “It’s a metaphor. I think you’re the one who sucks at metaphors.”

There is a beep on your phone to indicate you have another incoming call.

“Tae, I’m going to have to call you back. My brother’s calling me,” you tell him. The black dress; your old prom dress is way too early 2000s. Black never hurts.

“Okay. Have fun tonight. Pretend that it’s your birthday party. And then I’ll meet you for brunch tomorrow, my treat? You can tell me all about it,” he says. “Also the black. You look cute in that one.”

“My party if I was 30, rich and successful. Oh wait, I’ll have one thing in common soon; that’s a start. Thanks though. I’ll call you tomorrow morning once I get up,” you say, then switch the call over to your brother. You had missed the flush of his cheeks as you busily swipe your phone.

Sticking the prom dress back into your closet, you rummage around the meager display of shoeboxes for a pair of high heels.

“Hey, Jimin,” you greet over the phone.

“Jesus, I do not need to be accosted by my half-naked sister,” he yells over the phone.

You turn rapidly, seeing that you had accidentally continued a video call from when you had hung up on Taehyung. You throw a pillow over the camera in your haste to cover yourself up.

“I was going to ask why you’re dressed like that but on second thought, I think I’ll leave your sexual exploits as your own secret.”

Despite how disturbed you feel about this comment, his cheerful voice makes you smile.

“So little sis, the weekend before the big three-oh!”

“Please stop reminding me.”

“Where do you want to meet tonight? I just got off the plane, but I can be ready to meet in about an hour. I booked a hotel close to the airport.”

Shit. You forgot to tell Jimin. These heels will have to do.

“Um… I, uh…”

“What?”

You clear your throat and begin to undress in front of the mirror. You have a sudden conscious thought that the dusty treadmill in your living room seems to be staring daggers at your back.

“I’ve got plans tonight.”

“Plans? I wasn’t even aware you had friends here.”

“Ouch, Jimin. But yes, I have friends. In fact, I am meeting a friend for brunch tomorrow if you want to join. I’m sure he’ll be okay with it.”

“He?” Jimin repeats, “Should I put on my big brother boxing gloves? Give him a good talking to in case he’s interested in my baby sister?” Pause. “Was that who you were calling before?”

You bite your answer back, not feeling the need to go down that rabbit hole.

“He’s just a friend; A co-worker really,” you say, “He’s also unavailable. And before you suggest anything, his goalkeeper is technically one of my bosses so I do not want to try and shoot past her thank you very much.”

Jimin laughs. “I wasn’t going to suggest anything. Well if you’re busy tonight, tomorrow morning works for me. Give me a call. I’ll spend the night in watching some good ol’ Netflix and enjoy this vacation time.”

“Sorry again,” you apologize.

“Go out and have fun,” he says, “You deserve it.”

The two of you finish off the call with the usual goodbyes. You have forty-five minutes to dress the part of a sparkly birthday surprise for the co-founder of the company you work for. Throwing on your favourite throwback music, you get to work.

Once satisfied, you snap a picture and sending it to Taehyung making special care that you have picked the right individual this time.

...

The mansion is bigger than you could have ever imagined, and the amount of people present are…

“You’re telling me I can do whatever I want tonight,” you ask Seokjin in the car.

There is no denying that Seokjin knows how to dress for an event. In a velvety black and white suit, contrasted by his blonde hair which he has elected to temporarily dye for the evening, he looks very much the posh CEO magazines brand him out to be. You are glad you elected for the simple black dress as standing beside this Renaissance statue in a floral pastel yellow dress would be like planting dandelions in Kanye’s sculpture garden (if he ever wanted one).

“The majority of people won’t recognize you after tonight. They’ll also be too drunk to even register anything you tell them,” Seokjin says.

He cannot believe that you chose a simple black dress. Did you really not own anything remotely feminine besides the most generic clubbing outfit? Even if you had wanted to make an appearance as a hooker, at least make it an expensive-looking one. Maybe he should have bought you that Versace dress he spotted in the window the other day. Instead…

“Take this. Your earrings are too gaudy for this event.”

You touch the sparkly black cats you have put into your ears. Their eyes are made of crystal, and you thought it looked quite fetching in the light. Opening up the box, you see a dainty elegant pair of teardrop earrings that may or may not be of real diamonds.

“Only Junho will know who you really are and then you can enjoy the rest of your night. I don’t want you to feel like you’re being held here against your will.”

Putting them on, you note that even this simple change in attire has elevated the entirety of your presence. You felt as luxurious as this gift.

“Thanks, Seokjin,” you try the first name basis he had insisted upon for this evening, “Not going to lie, I had imagined that maybe you’d send me a dress in the mail or something, but this is still very nice.”

He snorts and rolls his eyes. “Like in the movies? Please, I run a start-up company. I’m not a millionaire and I don’t think you would appreciate my handouts.”

You don’t respond, making your second note of the night on the Prada label on the cuff of his suit. “To clarify, I don’t introduce myself as your plus-one tonight.”

“No. I don’t want you associated with me,” he curtly states. He watches as your smirk twitches and he hits himself mentally in the head again. “It’s to protect you. There are bound to be tons of paparazzi tonight at a party as big as this. I don’t want you to find yourself in the tabloids tomorrow morning. Just be smart.”

The car pulls to a stop after inching its way up to the front door. People mill about outside in extravagant brands, holding glasses of champagne. The man of the hour is somewhere inside the building, charming his way into new business deals as well as making new friends.

“Stay close to me. You can leave after we meet Junho. It is his birthday after all,” Seokjin offers a hand as you step out of the car.

You take it, looping yourself into him so that your hand rests on his forearm. You are only 13 days younger than Junho, and yet this striking contrast in lifestyle hits you like a landslide while the two of you walk up the stairs and into the mansion.

Inside, it is dim with disco lights flashing to the beat of amped party music. Upon entrance, the two of you are offered glasses of liquor (you take a swirling iridescent drink) to which you are then ushered to where the birthday boy lounges.

Junho has an even more youthful face than Seokjin does. Where Seokjin’s features exude class and charm, Junho appears mischievous and looks to have stepped out of every girl’s bad boy dream.

You stop Seokjin with a tug and make him look at you. “Tell me: do I look like a passable birthday offering?”

Seokjin rolls his eyes and pulls you along with him.

“Jin!” Junho hollers loudly across the room when spotting his oldest friend. There is a doll-like female magnetized to his side. “This is Clara, my date for the evening.”

Seokjin shakes her hand and greets them. The female cannot seem to pry her eyes away from this handsome new stranger. He introduces himself chivalrously to her as Junho sides up to you and grips your hands in his. His breath smells strongly of mixed drinks, and you know that in about fifteen minutes the entire night will be a blur for him.

“You must be Y/N!” he says excitedly, “Jin didn’t tell me that you were coming! What a surprise!”

“I am,” you greet back with a large smile. “Although I’m also surprised. Seokjin told me that you had insisted I came.”

Seokjin grits his teeth, annoyed at Junho. Would he ever learn when to keep his big mouth closed?

Laughing loudly, Junho grabs two drinks just as a waiter passes by and hands them to you. “Insist might be a strong word,” he says, drilling another hole unknowingly, “I honestly thought I’d have to play part-time wingman tonight. But I’m glad he’s got someone by his side.” He jabs you a little too hard in the ribs. “Next week’s gala is going to be fun! Okay, now there’s only one rule tonight: there are no rules!”

The four of you clink your glasses together, while you do your best to hide an embarrassed smile on behalf of the birthday boy.

“You bet I’m going around as your trophy wife tonight,” you whisper in Seokjin’s ear when Junho looks away.

He whirls around to look at you, the tip of both your noses impossibly close together. He can taste the acidity of the wine when you breath out with a wicked smile. He barely has time to stop you as you peel yourself away to mingle with the crowds.

Seokjin is about to follow you but Junho pulls him away, flamboyantly introducing his handsome best friend to a group of international models. He turns on his brightest smile, but his heart thunders in his chest at you calling yourself his wife.

...

You twirl around in your dress, nobody noticing the small splash of champagne on the front of it in the quickly changing lights.

“He bought this for me last week. Says it reminds him of the first night we met. Our eyes met across the waters in Tuscany where he was on a business trip. I’ll let you on a little secret, but I was his mistress for a little while.”

Seokjin cannot make out the words you are saying to a small but growing group of people around you. He stands across from Junho, but looks over the latter’s shoulders to watch as you do another spin.

“A little while, Charlotte? Are you still his mistress?” an older lady with an exuberant amount of jewels hanging off her body whispers with a keen interest in your expertly spun story.

Charlotte Dior Laurent, an identity you are pretty sure is an amalgamation of French brands from the top of your mind. You continue to personify this character however.

“Don’t worry. He’s left her since. I know I know, my friends all say the same. ‘He’s already been divorced three times. How can you be sure he won’t leave you?’”

At this point, you are in way over your head at having told this story to at least two other groups and a multitude of other renditions to whomever you have met tonight. But there is something powerful about liquid courage as it courses through your body.

The lady lays a hand on your arm. “I don’t want your heart to break. You are still young.”

Looking up between the heads of your audience, you catch Seokjin’s eyes. They are fiery and it sends a strange sensation up your toes to your abdomen. You give a titillating wave at him in which he does not return.

“He says I’m special and different. How can you say no to that?” you exclaim with exasperation, fully committing to the poor damsel just oh-so in love.

There is a look of genuine concern on the lady’s face at your statement.

Before you can dig yourself a deeper hole, you place your empty glass on the table and excuse yourself. You do not know if it’s the drinking on a relatively empty stomach or if the room is really much warmer due to the multitude of bodies, but you head out to the balcony.

On your way out, you notice that the clock reads twenty minutes past midnight. This gives you a shock at how fast time has passed. Perhaps you should go find Seokjin if you are to get a decent amount of sleep before meeting with Taehyung and Jimin tomorrow. Speaking of Taehyung…

You pull out your phone and see that there are two unread messages. The first is from Jimin, confirming that he is indeed invited to brunch tomorrow morning. The second is a response from Taehyung.

11:09pm “Wow. You have me a little lost for words. I had imagined you’d look nice in the dress but… You really are beautiful.”

Smiling, you type in your response.

12:21am “Thanks, Tae. You’re up late.” You take a picture of the earrings Seokjin had gifted you and attach it to the message. “What do you think of these?”

Barely have you returned your phone into your bag when it buzzes again. This time you receive an attached image. Taehyung seems to be sitting in front of a monitor, as his face glows with a blue light and contorted into a pensive furrow of his brows.

12:21am “A little different from your usual style. Are they new? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear those.”

12:21am “Fei’s out with some friends tonight. She likes when I wait for her to come back before I sleep. To make sure she’s safe, I guess.”

12:22am “Pooey. I should’ve brought you as my plus-one 😩. Also, Seokjin bought them for me for tonight. He says my other earrings are too gaudy.”

12:24am “First name basis 🙃”

12:25am “How is your night going? Having fun?”

You are about give Taehyung a call for a detailed recounting of tonight’s escapades when someone speaks out from within the shadows.

“A penny for your thoughts?” He walks into the moonlight. You flush, meeting the eyes of this particularly dashing gentleman, the phonecall immediately forgotten.

Oh, Alcohol, you make even the smartest of people do dumb shit. And right now, your effects are even worse on this idiot.

Your mouth hangs slightly open as you watch him puff out smoke from his cigar and offer it to you. He brushes up beside you, his fingers trailing up your hand which grips the balcony. You cannot seem to break away from his gaze.

“Lung cancer has an increasing incidence rate particularly for females due to smoking. Are you sure you want to be condoning this type of behaviour?” Seokjin interjects himself between you and your Tuxedo Mask, pushing the outstretched cigar back towards its owner.

There is a small stare down amongst the two men before the latter quietly exits the stage. Your eyes continue to linger on him even as he walks towards another female alone in the night enjoying the outdoor breeze.

“You’ve just ruined by chance. I could have seduced then blackmailed him with the story of his illegitimate child to play Black Widow,” you whine.

Seokjin takes the glass that had somehow magically appeared in your hand during the short walk from inside to outside on the balcony.

“How many have you had since we came?” he asks.

You sigh wistfully, still in your dangerous daydream. “I don’t know. I’ve lost count.” You turn your attention back to him eventually. “What are you doing here? Did you see me with him and get all jealous, hubby?” you tease.

He scoffs, drinking from your glass and pulling a face. Once again, there is that twist and jump within his chest, but he attributes it to whatever nasty concoction he had just ingested. He pours its contents over the railing and into whatever shrubbery lies below. “You seriously went with being my trophy wife?”

You shrug. “Of sorts. You’d better be right about people being too drunk slash not caring about me enough after tonight to remember the things I’ve said. ‘Cuz you’ve been divorced three times, had me along with another as your mistress, I think you’ve sired a few illegitimate children and all in all, a Games of Throne life. Damn, maybe I made you a little too badass.”

“You’re having water for the rest of the night,” he says.

You glare at him, contemplating on making a remark about his equally flushed face but decide against it. Instead, you lean onto the balcony and give a cat stretch. A large sigh escapes from you.

Wordlessly, he shakes off his jacket and places it around your shoulder all the while averting his gaze on the unblemished skin of your upper thighs that had been exposed from your previous movement.

Your blood feels like liquid fire coursing through your veins. Feeling overheated even in the evening breeze, you give him back his jacket. You note his reluctance to meet you even as you throw what could be a thousand dollar jacket in the air to him. “So what’s it like to live like this every day?” you say in wonder. You feel said breeze return and lean over the balcony to catch its chill.

“Like what?” he asks. The warm summer night’s breeze blows through, settling his hair in a childish tousle.

“Like rich,” you say. You sigh again. “Believe it or not, I’m the same age as your birthday boy best friend.

And everything feels absolutely unreal right now. If I hadn’t agreed to come here tonight with you, I’d probably be at another dingy bar knocking back shots with my brother and friend.”

“Are you a secret alcoholic?”

You glare at him. “No,” you state matter-of-factly. “As I was trying to share, this type of lifestyle is something I could ever only imagine. I’m not ungrateful about spending time with them, but at the end of the night I’d go home, sweaty, drunk and gross, and then simply pass out. My bank account might be a couple hundred bucks lighter. Come Monday I’ll be working my ass off just to earn back what I had spent. Then cue the repeating cycle.”

Resting your chin on your palm, your other hand sweeps your hair back behind your ear.

“It’s amazing the difference a few life choices can have.”

Seokjin remains silent beside you. Truthfully, he is at a loss of words. The moonlight plays across your face and caresses your nose down to your lips. You are arching your back once again to pull away the soreness that comes with wearing high heel the entire night. It is just a simple black dress but on you it made you look –

“Well, you’re Mrs. Kim tonight,” he starts.

“Charlotte Dior Laurent,” you correct him.

He raises an eyebrow. “Okay… Ms. Charlotte Dior Laurent. Tonight you get to live like the rich, as you’ve put it. As a rich person, what would you like to do?”

You ponder his question a few moments for the answer. “Hmm…I think I’d like to play golf. It’s a rich person’s sport. I want to play it on a private golf course, wearing cute golfing outfits and talk about million-dollar deals with a client without a care in the world. I want to order sangria by the gallon.”

He laughs out loud. It takes a while for him to be able to speak again, but when he does you feel as if the night has been illuminated a few degrees brighter. “I personally don’t have a private golf course, but Junho does here in his backyard if you’re up for it. I can’t promise cute golfing outfits so you’ll have to do with your wine stained dress. And if you’re really up for it I can pretend to make business deals with you, that’s my job anyways.”

You grin, taking the hand he has offered you. “Call.” The two of you shake upon his suggestion.

As he is leads you by the hand towards the dim gates of said golf course, you tug at him gently. “There’s something missing…” you say.

He shakes his head and pulls you back in towards the party room.

“I’ll see what they have at the bar.”

...

As the hands of the clock continue to spin past another hour, the summer night takes a chilly turn. Seokjin has lent you his jacket but even that cannot stop your fingers from becoming numb. Your hands shake even as they tightly hold the golf club. Seokjin watches you in silence as you prepare to hit the golf ball, a beer in one hand and a few opened bottles littered on the grass beside him. The club hits the ball with a resounding “cling” but does little in propelling it a few centimeters.

“This one doesn’t count,” you announce, “It’s too dark to see anything here.”

Seokjin takes a swig as you readjust your position. You sway in the wind and the last tendrils of your hair come undone in its half up half down hairdo. Your hair now whips wildly around your face when another gust blows through.

“Shit!” you exclaim, missing the ball again. “Why is golfing so hard?!”

You throw your club down and trudge to Seokjin. The six pack the two of you had been sharing has officially been depleted. Seokjin offers you his half empty bottle. This time, you are the one watching as he goes to your spot and effortlessly swings his target into the darkness.

He smirks from the spot.

You grumble. “You’ve had years of practice. Not fair.”

“You’ve got to do better than that, Mrs. Johnson,” he says, teasing you.

Your grumble becomes more audible. You place the now empty bottle on the ground and cross your arms against your chest. Since telling him of your other American alias from tonight, he has not ceased to remind you of your strange choice of name.

“Just so you know, Mrs. Johnson can afford both an affair and the consequential prenup,” you huff.

“It’s still a stupid last name.”

“It’s an American multinational corporation with an income in the billions, okay?”

“Keep telling yourself that if it makes you sleep better at night. Now come on, I’ve got one last ball. Take a swing.”

Groaning, you shuffle over. You wish you had not suggested golf. You had never been good at sports anyways – bad hand-eye coordination.

He stands beside you this time, scrutinizing your every movement with hawk-like eyes. “No, not like that,” he says, “Have a wider stance and bend your knees. Better centre of gravity gives you a better swing. Also hold it with a neutral grip.”

You readjust your positioning following his instructions.

“Index finger down the center. Good. And three knuckles on each hand. No, that’s two. Okay your hands are just weird now. Three. I said three.”

“Stop standing there and show me then, Mr. Know-It-All,” you say, your patience in this makeshift lesson also coming to an end.

He walks closer to you, reaching out for the golf club. He retracts his hands in seeing that you have yet to let go. “You got to – ”

“You can touch me. I did tell you that Mrs. Johnson can afford an affair and prenup. Besides, I’m not going to be able to learn anything if I can’t even see you in this dark.”

He comes behind you and puts a foot between yours to guide your stance. Wrapping his arms around you, he fixes the placement of your hands to grip the shaft of the club in the way he had previously instructed.

Perhaps it is the mixture of wine, champagne and beer offered tonight, but being enveloped in the warmth of this embrace intoxicates you. The tingles that are sent down from his soft breathing on the base of your neck, make you shake like a leaf in the wind.

He inhales the sweet undertones of your perfume. The tendrils of your hair brush against his collarbone, sending a sensual kiss onto his skin. Unconsciously, he draws you closer to him, shielding you from another gust.

“Now you just want to swing,” he says, the words a mixture of a whisper and guttural grunt. His chest rumbles with it, passing the vibration through to your back.

You remain as still as a statue and lean ever so slightly back into him until your entire backside is pressed upon him.

You can’t stop yourself as you ask him, “Do you want to have sex with me?”

...

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