#also just for some more background my mom and i have never been super close but im really close with my dad but i love with my mom ? so | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

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#also just for some more background my mom and i have never been super close but im really close with my dad but i love with my mom ? so

am-i-the-asshole-official · 10 months

Note

AITA for tricking my grandma into misgendering her cat?

Background: my (19F) grandma (67F) is a southern baptist and pretty conservative. My cousin (Matt, 24M) is trans, he came out to his parents and mine about two years ago because he knew we would be supportive, but he waited until he was on T a couple months and was mostly transitioned socially before he officially came out to our less supportive relatives, like my grandma.

Since Matt came out to everyone else (which he did by showing up at family Christmas with a “hello my name is” sticker on, which I thought was hilarious) my grandma has refused to use his correct pronouns, name, or anything, saying “it’s hard to switch” as an excuse. Matt has cut off contact and everyone else in the family just kind of avoids talking about him around her.

I am in a weird situation because my family lives the next street over from where she does, and we have always been pretty close. Since she started being so shitty about Matt, though, I’ve put more distance and just stay polite when she’s over.

Okay so now to the AITA part. About two months ago my grandma wanted to adopt a cat, and my best friend volunteers at an animal shelter so we were helping her. We showed her pictures of some of the cats and she saw an older male who was all black with longer fur and said she wanted to adopt “her.” I started to correct her saying it was a male cat, and then realized the opportunity I had so I kept my mouth shut. I made a point to handle all the adoption stuff for my grandma so she never saw anything indicating the cat’s male-ness, and then brought home her new “female” cat, pink collar and all.

Last week “Miss Kitty” (such a creative name) got a paw injury and at the vet they told my grandma the cat was male. My grandma told me and my parents about it when she was over for the Fourth of July (we had family and friends over for barbecue, including Matt’s parents). I made a point from there on to continue using “she” for the cat and still calling “Miss Kitty” instead of “Mister Kitty.” It took her a minute to notice but finally she called me out and said “he’s a boy, stop saying she.”

I immediately snapped back with “oh so it’s easy for you to switch the name and pronouns of your cat but not your own grandson?” Everyone got quiet and she got all flustered, trying to say it’s different, but I just said “oh okay, so you put more effort into using the right words for a cat who doesn’t even know English, got it.”

My mom told me to stop and leave it alone. I said “I’m just saying, it’s pretty clear who she cares about more.” And then my mom told me to leave the table if I was going to act like that. I just got up and took my plate in the kitchen and finished eating.

After everyone left my mom lit into me and told me that what I said was cruel. I said I was just teaching her a lesson and that maybe now she would think about it different. My mom said that I just made things worse and humiliated her on purpose in front of everyone. My dad had been quiet but then just started laughing. He realized that I had been playing the long game, and it wasn’t a mix up at the shelter- I led my grandma to believe the cat was female. He basically said “that was wrong but also hilarious” and now my mom is mad at both me and my dad. When Matt’s parents told him he thought it was super funny and said he isn’t mad at all.

My mom wants me to apologize, but I am not sorry about what I said. I don’t know if I should feel bad about tricking my grandma, because I didn’t technically outright lie, I just didn’t correct her when she assumed the cat was female. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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buckys-little-belle · 1 year

Note

Oh my gosh I am OBSESSED with your new cg!Garret series! Can you please write a chapter where Joyce brings by cookies or something for a Hellfire meeting, and runs into little bunny, and El doesn’t understand that reader wants their regression to be a secret, and tells Joyce, and little bunny gets super embarrassed but then Joyce comforts them and tells them it’s okay🥺💛

Hellfire Babysitting Club : The Sequel (Part Three)

Pick-Up Problems

Gareth Emerson x Little!Reader (They/Them Pronouns used) / The Hellfire Club x Little!Reader (They/Them Pronouns used)

Notes - THIS IDEA HAS BEEN IN MY HEAD FOR FOREVER, please know that this request really brought a spark back when it comes to writting <3. I really hope that you like it Bub!!!

Warnings - Little Bunny is "Outed" as a little by El, obviously that might be very touchy for some, please keep that in mind going forward. Very very brief mentions of not great home life, as well as possible Jim Hopper intervention. (It's very vague, and will not be talked about in detail. Please know that it isn't meant to be purposefully triggering, and is just a background theme) fluff, lotssssss of fluff

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW

. ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ .

The first week of school had gone well, Y/n sticking by Gareth's side as the others learned more about them. Everyone realizing how shy, quiet, and weary their Little Bunny was, and how opposite they were from Little Terror.

The second week of school had been a bit all over the place. Everyone immediately signed up to babysit Little Bunny at school, some choices were easy for Gareth to make. Though El was new to everything she would take Y/n for the first period of the day because they shared an english class. Then Dustin would take over for the second period, his Tech Design class right next to Y/n's math class. Gareth selfishly didn't let anyone take anymore shifts off him, keep Little Bunny to himself for both lunch, and the rest of the day.

He kept telling himself he would give more people the opportunity to take care of Y/n, but he wanted to know Y/n better than everyone else. Hence the obnoxious amount of questions Little Bunny was asked at lunch, during Study Hall, and on the way to science.

"What's your favourite type of juice? Colour? Movie? Class subject? Food? Store? Do you have lot's of toys? Does anyone know you're a little? If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?

And even though he did a good job asking fun questions, plus a few insightful ones, he never asked how they would get home after a DnD meeting. The club met after school and Y/N took the bus.

Little Bunny also never asked, which they regretted as they stood outside the school, their sweater pulled close, backpack sagging, wondering how long it would take to walk.

"Hi there." A sweet voice called, Y/n's eyes meeting the voice's owner as they took a step back. "I'm Joyce, Will and El's mom." She explained after noticing Y/n's confusion.

"Mom!" El called out as she ran over to hug her. "You've met our baby." El beamed.

"Your baby?" Joyce's brow furrowed.

"Yes, Y/n sometimes feels like a baby, so we take care of them." El smiled as she walked to Y/n reaching to hold their hand. "I call them Little Cheese Fingers."

"Oh." Joyce's reaction worried Y/n, the look of confusion feeding into their fear of people finding out. Y/n was about to pull their hand out of El's before Joyce spoke again. "Did Eddie start the Babysitting club again?" She asked with a smile.

"No, but Gareth did." Y/n felt a weight rise of their shoulder as El spoke. "I get to watch Y/n during english." The way she spoke so happily about her duty made Y/n smile, the fear of being a burden dispersing.

"Well Y/n." Joyce began. "Are you waiting for a parent to pick you up?" She asked, as if she just knew Y/n was momentarily stranded.

"No." Little Bunny whispered, Y/n's hand slipping from El's as they suddenly felt alone again. "'m on my own." They held back their tears.

"They take the same bus as us." Will suddenly chimed in, Mike and Dustin following after.

"Okay then it's settled." Joyce wrapped an arm around her son. "You can get a ride home with El and Will." She smiled. "Me or their dad will pick you up, okay?" Y/n nodded their head quickly. "And you two." She pointed to her children. "Better make sure Y/n is safe on the bus." She pulled out her stern voice and it made everyone giggle.

"Yes, Mom." Will rolled his eyes. "They take turns sitting beside me and El." He assured her.

"Y/n likes me more, I give them candy." El accidently gave away her secret weapon, Mike scoffing.

"Really?" He looked at El, then Y/n. "All I have to do is give you candy? Then you'll like me?" His tone was goofy, his eyebrows raised.

"I like choc chips more." Y/n smiled shyly, still uneasy around all the new people, but trying hard to embrace the change.

"Cookies I can do." Mike crossed his arms and smiled, a silent promise to arrive the next day and earn Y/n's friendship.

"You know, Max has a really good cookie recipe." Dustin mumbled. "Maybe Lucas will let us crash his date." Before his sentence was even finished him and Mike began running over to where Lucas and Gareth were chatting.

"Is everyone ready to go?" Joyce laughed.

"Wait!" Gareth yelled out of breath. "I didn't get to say goodbye." He raised a fist for both El and Will to bump, but when he got to Y/n they ran into his arms instead. "Goodbye to you too." He laughed, his arms wrapping around his Little Bunny.

"Do you have everything you need for Y/n?" Joyce's stern tone rung out.

"Yes, Mrs H, we still have lots of stuff left over from Little Terror." Gareth looked down to Y/n who's head was still smushed against his shirt. "Actually does your store have sippy cups?"

"Sippy cups?"

"I know it sounds odd, but ever since Little Terror somehow got juice on the ceiling, handing this one a juice box freaks me out."

"The ceiling?" Will cut in.

"Dude Little Terror once got so much ketchup on Eddie's shirt he had to throw it out. And he wore stained shirts more than he wore clean ones." Gareth added, suddenly very thankful for Y/n's calm demeanor.

"Yes, we have sippy cups, and forks with soft ends, as well as baby wipes." Joyce listed out everything she thought might be useful.

"Great, I'll make sure to stop by." He went to take a step back and walk to his own car, but Y/n clung on. "I've got to go Bunny." He chuckled.

"Me too." The managed to say, their words muffled by Gareth's shirt.

"I have candy." El yelled from the car, Y/n's head suddenly lifted. "Told you it works." She said as Will rolled his eyes and Y/n ran towards them.

"They're very sweet." Joyce smiled as she watched her kids help Y/n get comfortable. "You should come over for dinner more often, and bring Y/n. They look like they could use some more company." she said solemnly.

"Yeah about that." Gareth scratched the back of his neck. "Could you ask Jim to swing by my house after his shift?"

"Sure, is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I just have a few questions, that's all."

#age regression fic #age regression #little!reader #hellfire club x little reader #hellfire club #gareth stranger things #gareth x reader #gareth emerson #little reader #little fic #stranger things fic #stranger things age regression #stranger things #gareth x little!reader #Gareth x little reader

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she-is-juniper · 2 years

Text

Put It Into Practice — Steve Harrington x Reader (chapter four)

Pairing: Scoops Ahoy era Steve Harrington x f!Reader (she/her/hers pronouns, AFAB)

Rating (by chapter): M (Mature)

Summary: “King Steve” Harrington had been the subject of swooning for every girl in their right mind back in high school. But when his sexual dexterity comes into question the summer after graduation, Steve is not about to let his reputation become marred quite so easily. Luckily, Steve is offered the help of his new friend—to give him advice, a few pointers, and maybe a bit of healthy practice…

Word Count (by chapter): 9K

Content: sooo much fluff, very dialogue-heavy chapter (you’re going to love Steve even more than you already have), some angst, some cursing, Steve and Reader finally hash everything out lmfao

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and is not intended to be taken as truth or fact. I do not claim to own Stranger Things or any other affiliated names or fictional events. Other details, such as names, locations, and events, are also fictionalized.

A/N: Hi friends! I'm so excited for you to read PIIP chapter four! I’ve literally never struggled so hard to finish a chapter ever... It wasn’t even necessarily hard to write; I’ve just been beyond wiped out from my new job. I’m on my feet 6-7 hours straight during the day (and getting BANK for it) but it’s been simply exhausting. I find that I have absolutely no mental or physical energy left when I get home to write with the same intensity as I had earlier this summer. So I just wanted to say, I’m really sorry to everyone that I haven’t been churning out as much content in recent weeks 🥺 I still absolutely love writing and I’m excited to continue doing it! But I really really appreciate your patience with how slow/inactive I’ve been ♡ This chapter is verrrrry fluffy and dialogue heavy. It's becoming a bit of a slow burn which I know we all will love 👀 and I pinky promise there's smut in the next chapter!

And as always, PLEASE comment if you enjoyed this, for the love of all that is holy—your powers supercharge me!!—thank u in advance ♥ Love, Juni

chapter one \ chapter two \ chapter three

NEXT CHAPTER TBA (or check my masterlist)

✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷

“Hi, sweetie, how was the fair?”

You glance up at your mother as you close the front door behind you and kick off your shoes. She’s in the living room with a novel in hand, from which she’s hardly looking up to even acknowledge your arrival. In the reclining chair, your father is asleep, and his snores are drowned out only by the background noise of the television.

How was the fair? you think to yourself. Which part? The part where Steve Harrington and I got each other off in the Hall of Mirrors? Or the part where we made plans to sneak out tonight to see each other again?

“It was fun, Mom,” you say instead, as simply and calmly as possible. Inside your chest, your heart races with anticipation. You mentally go through a checklist. Tell her goodnight. Take shower. Pretend to sleep. Sneak out window.

“That’s wonderful,” she says absently as she turns the page of her novel.

“I’m going to shower and head to bed, I’m super tired,” you lie as you walk to the kitchen to fill up a glass of water to bring upstairs. It was part of your nightly routine, and you didn’t want her to be suspicious at all. Not that you had any reason to worry. Your mother, as expected, seems completely unsuspecting of your clandestine evening plans.

You go to her, kiss her on the cheek, and say, “Night, Mom.”

“Goodnight, Y/N, sweetie,” she says back. As you head up the stairs to your bedroom, you hear her turn off the TV and shake your father awake, telling him it’s time to go to bed.

That’s one of the perks of being the normal, trustworthy teenager of two overworked parents. When you really wanted to break the rules, they wouldn’t even bat an eye.

You’d always been a good kid, but that’s not to say you havent been involved in your fair share of teenage mischief. You’d simply gotten highly skilled at evading the less-than-watchful eyes of your workaholic parents. It had been all the usual, harmless milestones of teenagehood; underage drinking, going to parties, hooking up in cars. Nothing really out of the ordinary or truly egregious. For a while, the craziest thing you had ever done was sneak onto the roof of the high school gymnasium at midnight to smoke weed with Carol and her rowdy friends during your sophomore year.

Now, a new deed takes the cake; hooking up with Steve Harrington in the Hall of Mirrors at the Fourth of July fair.

It had been reckless, certainly. And illegal. But the thrill of getting caught, combined with the added tension between you and Steve from your prior argument, had made it all the more exciting.

You and Steve are now more than just friends.

You could have stayed in that Hall of Mirrors with Steve forever, just holding him and kissing him among the endless reflections, blissfully poking fun at each other for the mess you’d made in between your thighs and on his hands. But the sound of the security guards nearby had spooked you, and you and Steve hastily exited the attraction and booked it to the parking lot, giggling even more uncontrollably as you ran.

Neither of you had wanted to go home. But while Steve’s parents couldn’t have cared less about what their son was up to, you knew you had to at least make an appearance at home so your parents wouldn’t worry. And that was where the plan was hatched; you would tell them goodnight, convince them you were going to bed, and then sneak out your bedroom window. Admittedly, you’ve never snuck out of the house before, but there was a first time for everything.

You make haste in showering and shaving, keeping a close eye on the clock; Steve had promised to pick you up at 10:30. Every time you think of him, your heart gives a little flip. His doe brown eyes, his playful smile, his stupidly perfect hair. Now that your feelings for each other are more or less out in the open air, you’re bristling with new and exciting feelings for him.

Before going to your room, you wrap a towel around your chest and pad downstairs to check on your parents again. Their bedroom door is closed with the lights off, and your father’s snoring continues. Perfect . You tiptoe back up to your room and scour your closet; what is one supposed to wear when sneaking out of the house to meet up with her no-longer-just-friends friend? You consider another sundress, but you settle on a pair of jeans, a tee shirt with the logo of your favorite band, and your trusty white sneakers—the ones you remember Steve complimented once, a few months ago. Back when you had been just friends.

What are you now? Will he want to talk about it tonight? Or will tonight just be for… well …?

You don’t know what to expect from Steve tonight. He had been hesitant yet enthusiastic to help you sneak out of the house— “You don’t have to do that if you don’t want to, but fuck, Y/N, I’d love to see you later,” he’d said. And of course, how could you have said no?

And for you, you’re eager to continue where you’d left off from your earlier escapades in the Hall of Mirrors… but you’re also itching to talk about what’s going on between the two of you.

It’s nearly 10:30. You stuff a few pillows haphazardly under your comforter in the shape of a sleeping body, on the off-chance that one of your parents would check on you during the night. You turn off your lamp, and with a breath of courage, you heave open your bedroom window and creep onto the roof over the back porch. The summer night’s air had become slightly brisk, rife with adventure and youth and the residual smell of gunpowder from the fireworks at the fair. You carefully meander down the lattice wall above the garden and land with a gentle thud. Smiling to yourself, you make your way out the side gate, squinting down the quiet, suburban Hawkins street.

Right on time, a car pulls around the bend, flooding the street with its headlights. Steve’s BMW. You smile a bit nervously and saunter over to it.

As you approach, Steve steps out and leans on the driver’s side door, looking you over with excitement. And then, as if he’s come to some realization about your approach, he rushes over to the passenger door and opens it grandly. “Your chariot awaits,” he says with mock formality.

“Ah, so now it’s your ‘chariot’?” you call out. “Robin told me you always call it it your ‘Babe Mobile.’”

“Hey, watch your mouth,” Steve jests back, rubbing the burgundy exterior. “She’s a she, not an it. She’s sensitive. And besides, is Robin wrong? I mean, you’re a girl, and you’re about to get in the car, sooo…I’d say the Babe Mobile’s living up to her title.”

You laugh. Steve’s smile grows with yours. Witty banter, just like old times, back to normal. It’s as if the whole argument from earlier never happened.

“You’re such an idiot,” you giggle as you hop into his car. You’ve ridden in it a few times before, mostly during hangs with Robin to and from work or each other’s houses. You could never forget the first time you ever heard Steve’s god awful singing voice; it was at the beginning of the summer, and he had taken you and Robin out to pick up pizza and VHS movies after a long work week, and he had turned the radio on and started belting along with Don’t Stop Believin’ in a manner that more closely resembled a dying cow than a human voice. You remember the way you and Robin had groaned and laughed at him before joining in with your own voices. It was one of those summer memories that would last forever.

And looking over at him now, as he hops into the driver’s seat and gives you an easy smile, you wonder if this will be one of those forever summer memories, too.

“So you managed to sneak out without them noticing?” Steve asks as he shifts the car into drive and accelerates down the empty street.

You nod. “Not that they care enough about me to notice, anyway,” you replied lightly.

But Steve’s brow furrows a bit. “Oh, come on, I know your parents care about you.”

Knowing Steve’s rocky relationship with his parents, you realize you probably shouldn’t have exaggerated like that. “They do,” you amend, “but they’ve both been so busy lately that I’m probably the last thing on their mind. All that to say, we’re in the clear tonight.”

“Good,” he smiles as he drives. You notice he’d showered too, his hair still slightly wet, no longer perfectly styled in his usual way, although you decided you almost preferred seeing it damp and slicked back so casually like this. And he’d changed clothes from the attire he’d been wearing at the park. He’s wearing a new pair of jeans and a yellow crewneck sweatshirt that fits his torso perfectly. He smells like soap and linen and spice.

The radio’s on, softly playing Drive by The Cars—what a perfect song for this moment—and Steve’s got the windows rolled down so the summer breeze ripples through the car, bringing a slight chill to your arms.

“Where are we going?” you ask, realizing then that you hadn’t discussed a plan for where or what, just when he’d pick you up.

“You’ll see. I’ve got something fun we can do together.”

“Oh?” you ask with a suggestive tone.

Steve glances over at you and grins before drawing his eyes back to the road. And then he bites his bottom lip, and you can’t tell if it’s from excitement or nervousness. “Do you like surprises?” he asks.

“Sure,” you say apprehensively.

Steve chuckles at your tone. “Wow, what didn’t sound convincing at all.”

“I kind of hate surprises,” you admit.

“I figured,” he laughs. “Alright. Well, in that case, we’re going out into the woods. There’s this field I know—”

“The woods?” you interrupt him. “A field?”

“Don’t freak out,” he says. “I’m not going to, like, murder you or anything.”

“Oh, whew, that’s a relief,” you say sarcastically.

“It’ll be fun. I’ve got a buddy who works at the fireworks tent off of Randolph,” Steve explains. He gestures to a medium sized box in the backseat. You twist around in your seat to peer inside; it contains about a dozen assorted fireworks.

“I guess it is still the Fourth of July,” you muse. Setting off fireworks with Steve in the middle of the woods did, actually, kind of sound like fun.

“We gotta be pretty smart about it, though,” Steve admits as he pulls onto Cornwalis—one of Hawkins’ main road—and starts driving north. “The cops in this town are like hawks about fireworks this year. But I know a place where we won’t get caught.”

Won’t get caught… You wonder if his words have a double meaning.

“Alright, alright,” you drawl, deflecting from the sudden wave of awkwardness that washes over you. ”But if we get mauled by a bear in the middle of the woods and there’s no one around to hear us scream, I’ll kick your ass in the afterlife.”

Steve laughs. “Don’t worry, I’ll fight it off any bears for you.”

You give him a level look. “You? Fighting off bears?”

He gives you a face like it’s obvious. “Uh, yeah. Easy peasy.”

“Oh, really? With what weapon?”

“Well…I’ve got a baseball bat spiked with nails in my trunk, so I think I’d probably use that,” he says.

You stare blankly. It had obviously been a joke up until now, but this didn’t sound made up. He’d answered too quickly. “You have a baseball bat spiked with nails in your trunk?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Why?”

“...You don’t wanna know.”

You let it go. “Alright, I guess that makes me feel a tad bit safer.”

“Good.” Steve’s hand that was resting on the gearshift inch has now inched across toward you. You notice now that his pinky is barely brushing against the denim on your thigh. You feel butterflies in your stomach. “You changed clothes,” he notes.

“I did.”

“Looks good,” he compliments.

You smile shyly, letting his compliment wash over your senses. “You changed, too,” you said. “I like it.”

He looked pretty good a few hours ago with his hair all messed up and his cum all over his hands, too, you think to yourself. But you suppose the yellow sweatshirt look would do, too.

“We were kind of a mess back there,” he says with a sheepish grin, almost as though he had read your mind.

“We were,” you agreed—both in the literal and the metaphorical sense. His acknowledgment of the incident brings back vivid memories of it. You crossed your legs and squeezed your thighs together absently.

There’s a lot more that you want to say, but you don’t really know how to say it or where to start, so you and Steve drive in a comfortable quietness down the road. Eventually, he passes all the establishments in the central part of town—the schools, the arcade, the library—and continues on into the woodsy north neighborhoods.

When I Wanna Know What Love Is by Foreigner comes on the radio, Steve shifts his hand from the gearshift so it’s next to yours on the passenger seat. You flip your palm over in a silent invitation, and he takes it in his own, squeezing his fingers. The action feels overwhelmingly intimate and romantic. You realize you’d be content just holding his hand like this forever. His touch brings you a strange feeling of reassurance, despite the uncertainty of your relationship thus far.

Hawkins looks strange tonight, the trees taking on a carefree sort of quality beyond Steve’s headlights. Maybe it’s the excitement from the earlier festivities still resonating through the town. Maybe it’s the thrill of sneaking out, despite the fact that you’re an adult and graduated from high school. Or maybe it’s just your imagination, overactive from the adrenaline of being with Steve again. You stick your other hand out the open passenger window and flatten your palm against the wind, riding the wind with your hand like a surfer on a wave, just like you used to as a kid.

“Hey, Y/N?” Steve asks after a while.

“Yeah?”

“I just wanted to say… I’m, uh, I’m really sorry.”

You turn to observe his expression; his brows are furrowed as he glances between you and the road. “Why?”

“I’m just sorry for, uh, what happened back…there. I wish it hadn’t happened.”

Your heart thuds, and you fight to mask it. Did he mean the argument, or the hookup? When he hesitates to continue, you struggle to think of a response suitable for either meaning. “Things did get a bit, uh, heated, didn’t they…”

He squeezes your hand again. “I really shouldn’t have raised my voice at you,” he says. “Or said, like, half the things I said. I really wasn’t saying what I was meaning, like, at all.”

So he is talking about the argument. You squeeze his hand back before releasing it, and then you’re wringing your hands together in your lap. “You and me both, bud…but I’m sorry, too. I took things way out of proportion.”

“Well…” He combs his newly freed fingers through his hair. “I could see why you were mad at me.”

“I wasn’t mad at you—I’m not mad at all,” you reassure him. “It was just…the whole situation.”

The whole Steve-going-down-on-you-but-then-weirding-out-when-you-offer-him-a-blowjob situation. And the Steve-kissing-you-in-the-hallway-and-then-completely-avoiding-you thing. And then the Steve-never-got-over-Nancy-Wheeler bombshell that Robin had dropped. And then there was the whole Lisa-R-coming-onto-Steve-in-front-of-you ordeal.

Jesus, no wonder you had snapped back there.

“A lot had happened,” you continue, “and I was just…overwhelmed, I think. But I’m not mad at you, Steve.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Okay,” he says with relief.

“Are you mad at me?” you ask in turn.

“No, not at all.”

“Okay.”

There’s a lot more you want to say but you can’t find the words to express your thoughts. Looking over at Steve, you imagine he’s feeling the same way. It means a lot to you that he apologized about the argument, but the whole thing still doesn’t sit right with you. You know a solid, honest conversation is in order for tonight…but it might take a few fireworks before either of you will be able to find the right words.

“I’m in the mood to light some shit on fire,” you say, segueing into a lighter topic.

“Oh, yeah, well, you know what they say,” Steve remarks. “When the goings get tough, the tough…light shit on fire.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely the saying,” you say sarcastically.

“I think we should get that printed on a shirt and everything.”

“ You’d definitely wear that shirt,” you jest.

“Oh, absolutely,” he says. “Unironically. That’d be a dope ass shirt.”

“Yeah, maybe for pyromaniacs.”

“Hey, you’re the one that said you’re in the mood to light shit on fire. So you started it.”

“It was your idea to bring fireworks in the first place, dingus.”

“Don’t call me that,” he groans. “I already hear ‘dingus’ enough from Robin. She’s rubbing off on you too much.”

“What else am I supposed to call you when you’re being a dingus, then?”

“Uh…how about, just ‘Steve’?”

“Okay, Just Steve, but I think we’re gonna need to get you a better nickname.”

“Oh, yeah?” he says with a mocking tone.

You pretend to ponder. “Hmmm…maybe doofus?”

“That’s literally the same thing as dingus,” he complains.

“No, it’s different.” You gaze at him with mock seriousness. “Doofus. Yeah. That works perfect.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling under his guise of annoyance. “You women and your nicknames.”

“Well, I can’t always call you baby, I gotta have some variety,” you giggle.

You’re referring, obviously, to the way you and Steve had called each other baby —at first, in your basement last week, and then most recently in the Hall of Mirrors. In both instances, the term of endearment had kind of just…slipped out. But it felt right, in those moments. But baby was just one of those nicknames reserved for cringey couples in love. And, on occasion, for the casual hookup. But only in that context and never outside the bedroom.

Or basement. Or Hall of Mirrors. Whatever.

Point is, you’re wondering when you and Steve would call each other baby again. And under which context…cringey couple, or casual hookup?

Right on cue, Steve’s expression changes, and he admits quietly, “I like it when you call me that.”

“Really? You do?”

“Yeah. Don’t get all weird about it, though” he says defensively. The pout on his face is so irresistible.

“Don’t worry, I won’t, baby,” you tease. He groans. You laugh at him. “Sorry, sorry.”

“No, I like it… Maybe a little too much.”

You can’t fathom the meaning of his words, but he doesn’t elaborate. You deflect the awkwardness again, shifting back to your teasing tone of voice. “I’ll use it sparingly, I promise. But doofus?” You shove his arm playfully. “I’ll be using that one a lot.”

“I really thought you were more original than that,” he taunts. “I mean, c’mon, stealing Robin’s M.O.? What a copout.”

“I’m sure Robin would be honored.”

Your conversation is halted by a police cruiser driving past in the other lane. Steve straightens behind the wheel, although the cruiser passes without a hitch. You snicker at him.

“Right here, he’s right here, cops!” you jeer. “The pyromaniac with the high-maintenance hair!”

He runs his hand through it self-consciously. “You love the hair,” he says conclusively.

You couldn’t lie. “Yeah, I do,” you sigh, taking a chance and running your own hand through it. His face softens and he leans into your touch. It’s becoming far too addicting to touch him. “Why do you think the police will care about us setting off fireworks, anyway? They set off a bunch at the fair.”

“Noise ordinance, I think,” he responds. “You know how the cops in this town are. They got nothing better to do. They’ll impose any rule to keep the ‘meddling kids’ off the streets,” he adds with air quotes.

“Well, if we’re gonna have to drive out the middle of nowhere, where no one can hear…I guess we’ll should just make the most of it, then, yeah?”

You didn’t intend to sound suggestive, but as the double meaning of your words settles between you, Steve fights a grin. You can’t help but smile, too, knowing full well that you and he are thinking of the same thing.

Steve pulls off the main road and onto a short residential street that ends in a col-de-sac, beyond which extends a dense-looking patch of woods. He parks along the curb at the end of the street and moves to get out until he sees that you’re frozen in your seat.

“You ready?” he asks.

“Are we…hiking?”

“Just for a bit.”

“We’re hiking…through the woods…in the pitch black…at 10 pm…?”

“Don’t worry, I came prepared,” he grins, pulling out a flashlight and clicking it on. Even then, you still feel apprehensive. Steve touches your hand softly. “It’s not very far, I promise.”

“What is ‘it’, exactly?” you ask as you hesitantly exit the car. And then it hits you. “Oh my god,” you realize. “Please don’t tell me you’re taking me to Skull Rock.”

Skull Rock is this infamous makeout spot in the woods. In fact, rumor has it that Steve practically invented it. Gross. The idea that he would take you where he’d taken countless other girls makes you scowl at him.

But Steve just laughs. “No, no, we’re not going to Skull Rock. That’s in the other direction.”

“Wouldn’t you know,” you mutter.

He just gazes at you endearingly like he finds your anger adorable. “C’mon, trust me. There’s a huge clearing, just north of Lover’s Lake. It’s just a few minutes walk from here. Just follow me, okay? It’s really cool. You’ll see.”

He gives you a warm smile before locking the car. As soon as the car’s headlights go off, the scene around you and Steve becomes engulfed in darkness, save for the dim yellow streetlamp and the moon on the horizon. Steve hands you the flashlight since he’s holding the box of fireworks. You try to keep it steady as he leads the way into the woods, where the cacophony of summer insects and birds swells like a nocturnal symphony.

After a few moments—and at the sudden hoot of an owl that makes you jump—you finally say, “Steve, not to be dramatic, but who do you think will be speaking at our funerals when we inevitably die tonight from an angry bear?”

“We’re not going to die,” he reassures you with a laugh. “But…I guess if we did, Robin would probably do a pretty decent job at a commemorative speech. And Dustin. Probably your parents—”

“I didn’t need to hear that,” you groan, tightening your grip on the flashlight.

“You asked!”

“I’m just saying, it’s not too late for us to turn around and grab that spiked baseball bat you were talking about.”

He waves his hand dismissively. “If anything comes for us, I’ll just show them my super slick ninja moves, and they’ll get scared and run away.” He attempts a really bad roundhouse kick on a nearby tree, muttering, “Ow.”

“Loser.”

“Hey, there’s a new nickname.” He straightens and adjusts his grip on the box. “Wasn’t that hard being creative with it, huh?”

You know he’s trying to soothe your nerves about being in the forest at night, and it’s working, but only a little bit. “This better be worth it,” you mumble.

“You know me, would I ever take you somewhere that’s not guaranteed to be super cool?”

“There was that one time you made me and Robin meet you behind the mall to look at a satellite in the sky because you thought it was a UFO.”

“It was totally a UFO!” he retorts.

“Satellite.”

“...Fine, whatever, but what if it was a real UFO, and you and Robin missed out on it? Then you would have really been pissed off at yourselves.”

“Ooh, yeah, and maybe then the aliens would have abducted you and we would never have to hear you mope about working at Scoops Ahoy ever again.”

“Oh, come on, if I got abducted by aliens, you’d miss me and you know it.”

“Don’t flatter yourself too hard, Harrington.”

“Just stating the facts.”

At last, you can see a break in the trees ahead. Once you and Steve emerge, you realize you’ve reached the town’s power lines, a series of tall metal poles connected by soaring wires. The trees have been cut back width-wise from the power lines, leaving a huge clearing in the woods as far as the eyes can see in either direction. Above the huge poles, the moon is bright and almost full, washing everything below it in a pale blue light.

“This way,” Steve says as he leads you under the lines and across the clearing. You keep right behind him for another few minutes as he follows the path of the power lines. After a few minutes, you see a large divet of clearing out to the right, where the trees have been cut back even further. As you near, you realize it’s a wide field, perhaps an old patch of farmland, beyond the horizon of electrical wiring. The field is about a football field across in length and width, with no poles or trees to obstruct it. Peculiarly, at the other end of the field is an old flatbed truck.

“Wow,” you note, looking around with your flashlight. “How did you know this field was here?”

“Tommy and I found it a few summers ago,” Steve replies. “We used to skip school and come out here to smoke, drink, hit golf balls in the woods, do stupid shit like that.” He leads you across the field to the old pickup truck.

“Do I even want to know how this got here?” you laughed.

“It’s Tommy’s uncle’s,” he explains, slapping the roof of the truck with a metallic thud. “Basically just scrap metal at this point. It doesn’t run anymore. But” —he grins at you as he sets his box on the truck’s bed— “This is where we’ll sit to watch the show. Best seat in the house.”

You try once and fail to hoist yourself up onto the open truck bed, which just gives Steve an excuse to help you up onto it with his hands on your waist. His close proximity means that you can smell the cologne on his neck. You make the mistake of meeting his eyes as he lifts your hips onto the truck, and you think to yourself that it should be illegal for a boy to make you feel this delirious.

Steve doesn’t remove his hands from your waist right away when you’re finally sat on the truck bed. He keeps his hands there, his fingers pressing curiously into your skin through your shirt as he situates himself between your legs, which are now dangling on either side of his body. He looks so good from below you, his body outlined by the dim flashlight, his teeth glistening, the slightly nervous expression on his face. Oh my god , you think as he suddenly leans in, and you fear—fear?—he’s going to kiss your lips. But he’s much too far down for that, so instead he kisses the top of your thigh. First the right one, then the left. And then, casual as ever, he backs away, grabs a firework and a lighter from the box, and says, “Time to light shit on fire, baby.”

Your mind still spinning, you just choke out, “Okay.”

He trots out into the open field with his supplies. You follow his path with the flashlight, and when he realizes where you’re shining the light, he turns to you with a playful expression and places his hands on his backside. “Don’t look at my ass!”

“How could I not? It’s right there.”

He tries covering it with the firework in his hand and you snicker. Once he reaches about fifteen paces away from the truck, he turns toward you, gives you a cheeky grin, and sets the firework in the ground. Once he has it lit, he sprints back and launches himself like an energetic child onto the truck bed beside you. You giggle even more.

The firework launches into the air and bursts into golden stars. The whish-boom is so loud that the birds and crickets stop for a second.

“Cool,” you whisper.

“Another one!” Steve announces. He repeats the process, trotting out to the field with a firework, lighting it, and then speeding back to the truck to propel himself onto it beside you. You and he both look up to watch it in the sky.

“You know,” you say after the boom of the firework—red and green this time— “you don’t have to sprint back over here every time.”

“But I wanna sit next to you to watch them go off,” Steve says.

Your heart swells, and because you don’t know what else to say, you respond, “Okay, fine, doofus.”

He nudges your shoulder with his before hopping down to repeat the process again. He lights firework after firework, coming back each time to sit right next to you to watch it explode in the sky together. It’s really quite endearing of him, even though he’s starting to pant with the exertion of running back and forth. You’ve not seen this side of Steve before tonight—so silly, free-natured, smiley, with almost a boyish sort of energy. But you love it.

Some of the fireworks are the typical ones that launch into the air like a rocket and explode in a circle; some crackle like a massive sparkler, illuminating the field in rivulets of golden light. One firework even launches a multitude of glowing stars that spiral into the air and dissolve. You and Steve make conversation about them, commenting on your favorite colors and patterns, making jokes with each other. Before you know it, he’s down to the last two fireworks in the box.

“Okay, so this one’s me… And this one’s you,” he says, designating one of the cylinders for each of you—red for him, blue for you.

“Are you gonna light them both at the same time?” you guess.

“Yeah, and whoever’s goes higher, wins.”

You scoff. “Oh, it’s on.”

“That’s exactly what a loser would say.”

“Wait,” you say, scowling at him. “How will I know you’re not cheating by lighting mine after yours?”

“Because…” —he pulls out a second lighter from his picket and waggles his brows— “You’re gonna light it yourself, at the same time as me.”

“Hmm. Seems fair. And what does the winner get to do?”

“Oh, by winner, you must be referring to me.”

“Don’t get so cocky, Harrington. You’ll regret it.”

“When I win,” he says, leaning in threateningly toward your face, “I get free chocolate chip cookies for a month from you at work.”

“I already give you free chocolate chip cookies,” you complain. “And you already give me free ice cream. That’s a stupid reward.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” Steve admits, tapping his chin. “…How about…” His gaze grows devilish. “Loser has to take off their shirt.”

You look around wildly. “In the middle of the woods?!”

He shrugs. “Not like there’s anyone out here to see.”

“That’s so not fair. You’re a guy . It’s completely different when you take off your shirt.”

“Hmm, sounds to me like something someone who’s scared of losing would say. Are you scared? Is that it?”

“No,” you huff with a competitive smile, rubbing your arms. You think but don’t say aloud that you’d tear your shirt off for him right here right now if it means you’d continue where you’d left off in the Hall of Mirrors…but now you’re determined not to lose this game. “I’m not scared. You’re going down, Harrington.”

He looked smug. “Hmm, we’ll just have to see about that, you dork…”

You follow Steve out to the middle of the field, the two of you shoving each other with playful competitiveness. You crouch down side by side, and Steve counts down from three. When he reaches one, you hold the lighter up to the fuse at the exact same time as Steve, and the two of you fall back, wringing your hands with anticipation.

The fireworks shoot off together, in two broad arcs that at first seem to repel each other before arching back and crossing paths. The red explodes first, followed by the blue, which soars high into the air before bursting.

“Ha!” you cheer, jumping up and down. “You lose!”

Steve clenches his fist and sighs, “Shit.”

“You know what that means, Stevie boy…”

You mime taking off your shirt with a suggestive face. Steve huffs a dejected sigh and pulls off his yellow sweatshirt and the white tee he’s wearing underneath in one swift movement. He looks good, of course, but mostly he looks absolutely pitiful with his bare shoulders sagging and the look of sheer defeat on his face. You can’t help but giggle at the way his plan had backfired.

You jump up on the truck bed again, this time helping Steve up by giving him a hand for leverage. The fireworks show had served their purpose at dissolving whatever residual awkwardness had still remained from your argument with Steve earlier at the fair. You feel elated, now, even as the echo from the thunderous fireworks has subsided and the quiet stillness of the night has returned in full force. And as Steve situates himself beside you—even as he balls his sweatshirt up in petulance and throws it at your face like a child—you wish you could bottle this feeling up forever.

“Gotta say, ‘Loser’ looks pretty good on you,” you jest, giving him a once-over with your eyes. The light from the flashlight, which you had propped against the side of the truck bed, was enough to illuminate the details of his torso. His chest hair, the hollow of his throat, the trail on his tummy, his lean shoulders.

“That was actually my plan all along, so joke’s on you,” he pretends to boast.

But the bravado of your earlier banter seems to fade like the smoke from the fireworks in the evening breeze. What is left between the two of you is a strange, mutual sort of buzzing…the hyper-awareness of his body next to yours, his familiar clean fragrance, the way his leg dangles off the truck bed so close that you can feel it brush against your skin. He’s utterly alluring. And something in his eyes indicates that he feels the same about you.

You switch off the flashlight and sit in comfortable silence beside Steve for a few moments. The sounds of the forest resume their serenade, and the afterimages of light in your eyes from the fireworks start to fade. As you adjust to the dark, a new source of light catches your attention.

“The stars,” you exclaim quietly, gazing up.

Steve follows your gaze, and the two of you watch in awe for a long time. There seems to be a million times more stars out tonight than any other old night in Hawkins, despite the moon on the horizon. Perhaps it was just that you’ve finally become aware of the stars again long enough to sit and observe them. Perhaps it was a message from the universe or something cheesy like that. But for whatever reason, the sky is truly dazzling tonight.

“Do you wanna know a secret?” Steve says after a while. You nod your head, and he continues. “I…used to be a Boy Scout.”

“No way.”

“Yeah. For a few years.”

“Why’d you quit?” you wondered.

Steve shrugged. “My parents got busy, so they couldn’t take me to meetings anymore.”

“That sucks.”

“It’s whatever.” Steve lies on his back on the truck bed, heaving a sigh. “I didn’t really like it much anyway. But I did get my Astronomy Badge before I quit.”

“Steve.”

“What?”

“Please tell me you’re not about to point out the constellations right now for me like we’re in some cheesy John Hughes movie.”

“What? No.” He smiles. “Ew. No. I would never do something that sappy.”

“Of course you wouldn’t.”

A breath of silence. “But, let’s just say,” he says, “for the sake of the argument…that we actually are in a John Hughes movie…”

“Oh no.”

“And if we were… I’d probably lean in close, like this…” He leans his head closer to yours and points to the sky. “And I would show you the star Vega…and there’s Altair…”

“Oh my god, Stevie, so romantic,” you say in a mocking voice.

“Here—” he takes your hand in his and manipulates your fingers so you’re pointing now. And he shuffles himself closer to your head so you could share his line of view. “So there’s the Big Dipper…and if you follow the star right here on the corner and draw a line…you’ll find the North Star.” He tilts his head towards you and smiles. “But it would all just be a ploy, a plot device.”

“A plot device for what?”

“For the boy to get close enough to the girl so he could kiss her.”

Out of nowhere, he leans in toward you, still smiling, and plants a single kiss on your lips. Although your mind reels, you manage to keep your composure at the feel of his warm lips.

“Or something like that,” he whispers. “I dunno. John Hughes movies are kinda cheesy, aren’t they.”

“Kinda?” you echo, giggling. “That was the cheesiest thing you’ve ever done.”

“You loved it though, didn’t you.”

You did love it. “Steve Harrington, you are such a cliché,” you joke.

But the joke doesn’t go over very well, it seems. He hesitates, and then the energy changes a bit. He lets his hand fall with yours but doesn’t let go of it. “Do you think that, for real?”

“What?”

“That I’m a cliché.”

You blink at him in the darkness. “I was just joking, I promise,” you reassure him.

“I know, it’s just… Someone told me that before, a long time ago. And I’ve thought about it ever since.”

“Someone told you that you’re a cliche?”

“Well, granted, I kinda was , back then.” He scratches his head.

You ponder that. “Was it…was it Nancy?” you guess.

Steve nods. “Yeah—how’d you know?”

“Just a guess,” you say. Steve and Nancy had been an unlikely pair when they had first gotten together. Nancy was always quiet and kind, smart, never dreamed of stepping out of line. Steve was always loud, brazen, handsome, dripping with charm and wealth, too cool for school—and too cool to give most people the time of day. Of course, though, they both seem to have changed drastically since those days.

You’re curious to know more, but you decide against asking him. It isn’t your place. Instead, you say, “I don’t think you’re a cliché, Steve. Anything but, really. I think you’re pretty…extraordinary, to be honest.” You squeeze his hand and look over at him, before gesturing up to the sky. “And I actually really like hearing about the stars from you, jokes aside. Every girl secretly loves the cheesy romantic stuff, deep down.”

It’s probably the most candid you’ve ever been about your feelings toward him. And it felt good to say it aloud, but you feel shaky with adrenaline now.

“I knew you couldn’t resist a good ol’ romantic stargazing moment,” Steve grins.

“You got me.”

Steve sighs deeply again. “I don’t really wanna be that person anymore…the person Nance said was a cliché. I’m…” —he shifts uncomfortably— “...I’m not proud of a lot of things I did back then.”

You wonder what he meant by that. “That was a while ago,” you reassure him. “You can get a fresh start now that high school’s over.”

“Yeah, there’s just a lot of things I wish I had done differently, though.”

“With…Nancy?” you ask softly.

You can’t see it, but you can tell by his voice that he’s frowning. “Yeah, but just…overall. I was kind of a dickhead… And with Nance, I felt like a better man when I was with her. But I was still… I guess I get why she broke up with me, is all. She definitely deserved better than me.”

“I feel like you’re not giving yourself enough credit,” you respond with genuineness. “I mean, there was a reason you stayed together for almost a whole year, right? Relationships are…they’re two-way streets. And I’m willing to bet you were probably a really good boyfriend to her.”

“I got better, I think…” Steve seems to come to his senses, then, as if he realizes who he’s talking to and what he’s been talking about. “God. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring that up. That was really shitty of me—”

“No, no, it’s okay. It’s okay. I promise.”

He squeezes your hand and brings it up to his chest. You’d almost forgotten he still isn’t wearing a shirt; his bare skin feels warm against your hand. There’s a reinstated moment of silence between you two, and yet, a thousand thoughts swim around in your brain.

Carefully, you break the silence again. “I’m glad we’re talking about it.”

“Yeah, but I just know how it feels when you have to listen to someone complain to you about their ex.” He laughs humorlessly. “I mean, at this point, I’m just being pitiful. It was six months ago, and she’s moved on, and I’ve moved on, too. I mean…” He rubs your hand with his thumb. “I mean, I wanna move on.”

“Listen,” you say. “I can tell you really cared about her, Steve. And that you still do. And…I can tell it still hurts. And that you’re still grieving it.” You roll over so you’re on your stomach, propping yourself up with your elbows so you can look at him in the moonlight. “And I want to be here for you. But I don’t want to get in the way of that.”

“But Y/N…” Steve brushes your hair out of your face. “I like you. A lot. I really, really like you.”

It’s the first time you’ve heard him say anything so definitive. Your face heats and you smile to yourself. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

“For a while I really wasn’t sure that you did,” you admit.

“You’re a doofus. Of course I fucking like you.”

“Well, I don’t know! I mean…god, I was so confused, Steve. I thought that you did, but then you, like, ignored me for a whole week.”

“Yeah, I’m an idiot.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Y/N. Things just got really… real for me all the sudden, last week.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know if you knew this or not, but I…hadn’t really been with anyone since Nancy. Not seriously. Not until…you.”

So Robin had been right. Of course she had. Was Robin ever really wrong about anything? You need to start giving your mutual friend some more credit, you realize.

“You haven’t?” you ask.

“Nope. That’s why I freaked out in your basement last week…and ignored you for a week…and then blamed it on you. Wow. I really fucked this up already, and it hasn’t even started yet.”

You lean down to kiss his arm gently. “You didn’t fuck anything up.” Steve shivers at your touch; you realize then that the temperature has dropped. “You can put your shirt back on if you want,” you giggle.

“Thanks,” he whispers and sits upright to pull his tee shirt back on. Not the sweatshirt, though. “Do you wanna wear this?” He offers it to you.

“That’s okay,” you decline, although the night air has brought goosebumps to your arms.

“Don’t be silly, your hands are freezing.” He nudges you with the sweatshirt until you give in and pull it on over your head. It smells so deliciously good. “It looks good on you,” he compliments.

“Thank you, Steve.” You shimmy next to him again; he stretches out his arm like a pillow for your head. Being this close to him feels like heaven.

“I should be the one thanking you,” he murmurs. “You’ve been nothing but patient and forgiving to me, even if I don’t deserve it.”

“You deserve it, dummy. And for the record, I really like you too.”

He shivers again, and you snuggle closer to him. With the arm that’s nestled under your neck, he plays with your hair absently. “I don’t want you to think that the stuff with Nancy changes anything between us.”

You don’t say anything at first.

He stirs beside you. “Y/N?” he prompts.

“What…exactly… is between us?” you ask him.

You’re thinking back to the stupid rules you and Steve had set for each other back in the basement last week. Rule Number Two, stay friends no matter what. There’s nothing you fear more than losing Steve as a friend. Which is why the idea of being more than friends terrifies you as much as it excites you.

“I don’t know,” Steve replies with a smirk, “but I’m down to play it by ear if you are.”

Play it by ear. “That doesn’t sound half bad. But…Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“I get the feeling that it’s not really just about Nancy.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just mean… All summer, you always joked about how you’re a washed-up version of the Steve Harrington you used to be. I don’t think you’re washed up… I think you’re pretty amazing as is. But I don’t think you really think you’re washed up either. I think you’ve come a long way from who you used to be. And you should be proud of that. But I also get the sense you feel a little lost…like you don’t know who you are if you’re not the same Steve Harrington you used to be.”

There’s a breath of silence as Steve shifts beside you. “Damn, alright, Sigmund Freud.”

Yikes. You probably shouldn’t have said that much. “I’m sorry… That was really out of line for me to say, wasn’t it.”

“No, I mean…you’re not wrong. I guess I don’t really know who I am anymore.”

“There’s no rush to figure out who you are.”

“But, like, I don’t even know what I like, or what I’m good at.”

“I could tell you one thing that you like and that you’re good at,” you say suggestively. “...Sorry, bad joke.”

But he laughs and kisses you again, out of the blue. It’s a shallow, almost chaste kiss that still manages to steal your breath away, but before you know it, he’s trying to roll on top of you, planting kiss after sweet kiss on your parted lips.

“Hey,” you laugh. “We were…having…a conversation.”

“It can wait.” Steve pins you against the truck bed with his body, attacking you over and over again with his lips. Oh, how you’ve longed to feel his body weight atop yours like this. Each kiss brings a feeling of indescribable lightness, like the feeling of a giggle bubbling up from your belly, like the drop of a roller coaster, like gravity has gone away.

As much as his pecks bring you joy, you long for that heavy feeling you got in the back hallway of the mall when he kissed you as if his entire life depended on it. So, right when he’s no longer expecting it, you push Steve’s shoulders off of you and roll on top of him, trading places. His eyes are wide in the moonlight, and you plan a kiss above each one, on each of his eyelids.

“Kiss me like you mean it,” you command.

“I do mean it.”

“Then prove it.”

Steve snakes his arms around your back and holds you securely as he pulls you down to kiss him deeply. Fireworks, just like the ones from earlier, seem to pop off between your bodies, and you’ve never felt so irrevocably his until this very moment.

“See, I told you, you are good at something,” you murmur when he finally breaks away.

“How can I make a career out of this?” Steve feels up and down your body with open palms and an expression of sheer reverence.

You laugh and brush his hair from his face. “There are plenty of careers you could have,” you say seriously.

The conversation from earlier resumes. “Yeah, but…” Steve’s lips purse in thought. “It just feels like, while everyone else was figuring out who they were in high school, I was stuck trying to be what everyone else thought I should be, and I didn’t let myself explore who I wanted to be.”

“Well…What were some things you were good at in high school?”

“Nothing,” he insists. “I sucked at every subject.”

“Did you suck, or did you just not try?”

“...Okay, fine. I didn’t try. But I didn’t really care about school anyway. It never interested me. Still doesn’t, really. Like, I am not looking forward to community college.”

“Okay, well, what were some things that you did find interesting?”

“...Sports…parties…”

“I mean, we can work with that. You’re a people person, Steve. You like people. And you’re good with them. And from what Robin told me, you’re good with the kids, too,” you add with a jab to his side. He twists away and scowls.

“Yeah, I know, my only friends for the last part of high school were a gang of middle schoolers. Tell me that’s not the most uncool thing you’ve ever heard.”

“Actually, it’s not. You’ve got a heart for the youngins; so what?”

“Shut up.”

“Okay, I’ve got a good direction for you.”

“What is it?”

“...Little league coach.”

“Actually, that doesn’t sound too bad.”

“It was either that, or ‘Stay-At-Home Dad.’”

“...That doesn’t sound too bad, either.”

You laugh and kiss both corners of his mouth. “I don’t really know what I want to do either, for the record.”

“Yeah, but you were at least good at school. Like, weren’t you telling me that you got into Purdue?”

You did get into Purdue, but there was a distinct reason why you weren’t going in the fall…that reason being money, primarily. “I still don’t know what I’m doing with my life, though,” you insist.

“Is it bad if I say I’m kinda glad you’re not leaving for college in August?” he smiles shyly. “We get to spend more time together.”

“No. Not bad. I’m glad, too.” You had deferred your acceptance to community college so you could work full-time for half a year. And the idea of spending as much time as possible with Steve during that time was more than a little exciting. You kiss his lips once more before rolling off of him, resuming your position in the crook of his arm. “I’m just saying, you and I have time. There’s no rush.”

“To figure out what we’re doing with our lives, or to figure out what we are?” Steve asks.

“...Both.”

“You’re right.” Steve kisses your head beside him. “Hey.”

“Hey what?”

“...I know what happened back there at the fair was kind of a lot… Really sexy, don’t get me wrong...”

“Really sexy,” you agree with a giggle.

“But is it okay if we take things a bit…slow?” he asks. “Maybe, like…warm up to the rest?”

You nod understandingly. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

“Okay,” he sighs in relief. “Good. Maybe in the meantime…we could go on a date. Like a real date.”

“Are you asking me on a date, Steve Harrington?”

“Hell yeah I am,” he says. “We’ll do the whole shebang. The fancy dinner, the movie. I’ll get you some roses and shit.”

“Now that’s cliché,” you laugh. “But I kinda love the idea.”

“Friday night?”

“Pick me up at 7?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He gazes down at you. “But…is it okay if I kiss you again?”

“I’d be upset if you didn’t.”

And so he does The novelty of the feeling of his kisses is starting to fade, but the bubbly feeling inside your stomach remains. You could kiss Steve Harrington like this all night long—nothing more, just kisses, laughing with each other, and the stars. Simple as that.

And that’s exactly what you do.

✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷✷

A/N: Helloooo! Yayyy, they finally had an honest conversation LMFAO. I’m dying to hear your thoughts about it! Please note that I write fanfiction for free; my only request for repayment is a genuine expression of your thoughts, opinions, likes/dislikes, and predictions about the story. Whether it’s simply a “Wow, I loved it!”, a keyboard smash, a series of convoluted thoughts in the tags, or even a full-out review, please know that any and all feedback is welcome!

Much love ❤︎ from Juniper

about me | tags | AO3

fanfic masterlist | buy me a ko-fi?

Stranger Things fics taglist (if I'd added you by mistake, you'd like to be removed, or you'd liked to be added, please lmk via ask!): @rexorangecouny @k-k0129 @piecsesrising @cutesy-creep @whereintheworldisspencerreid @thingfromlove @hellfirebloodhound @buginksworld @wtfsteveharrington @yellowharrington @theangryjuniper @o-holynight @chestharrington @sexytholland @hoedameronsworld @floralcyanide @likexthexplanet @thatsonezesty13 @misaamaneswifey @undeniableadrenaline @bobo-bush @sojibug @hazzarights @touchmetouchmetouchme @homeskilletbiscuit22 @dullsocietyy @kirbursoot @lelenikki @keepingitlokiii @hoedameronsworld @xh-josii @sexytholland @theblairwaldorf2

@laurapalmersghxst @usuallyunlikelyfox @secretsicanthideanymore @fujiihime @thingfromlove @parker-natasha @thestevehairyington @outer-bnks @totally-bogus-timelady @tooearlyforthis @mustbeaweasleyginger @wicked-remarks @steveharringtonarchives

#steve harrington x reader #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #st #fanfiction #fanfic #steve harrington smut #works by juniper #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x afab!reader #reader insert #imagine

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amory444 · 10 months

Text

Random ass pruaus headcanons cause I'm ungrounded in two days, except their super long for no reason

Roderich and Gilbert go to the mall to simply look at stuff but never buy them. If Gilbert wants to buy something he'll have to either have to convince Roderich to buy it for him or steal it, this is all because Gilbert bought something they didn't need once when they were out and now is not allowed to bring his wallet anywhere without intense supervision from Roderich.

Every Halloween they will dress up as fictional couples, be it gay or straight they don't care, Sometimes they even let others decide. It's become a yearly tradition for them, and every year they somehow get weirder than the last. The first year they did this they went out as starfire and Robin and now they're outrageous enough to go as miss piggy and kermit.

Only Roderich knows how to flirt, Gilbert cannot flirt to save his life, Roderich will tease him about it and Gilbert always says he's too good for flirting.

They both avoid the beach at ALL COSTS. Roderich has a crippling fear of the sea and marine animals and Gilbert is just albino. If they want to go swimming it's either a pool or their bathtub, it's unfortunately always the bathtub cause Gilbert turns into a hotdog if he stays for over 3 minutes in the sun and is appalled by the fact that some people bring food and piss in public pools. Roderich is just a hermit who doesn't like being around people, especially when he's half naked.

They both are insecure and will often have cuddling sessions where they just talk about the others features. Roderic lets Gilbert melt into his chest whilst he whispers random compliments, Gilbert goes for a more physical approach but it's still appreciated by Roderich none the less.

Roderich bakes and Gilbert cleans. Whenever Roderich is baking Gilbert prepares himself mentally for the mess he'll have to clean up afterwards. It's worth it though, he only eats Roderich's baking cause it reminds him of home. Roderich also cooks but it doesn't leave too much of a mess since his meals are usually small and simple.

Despite his wallet getting taken away, Gilbert still commissions artists online to draw him and Roderich. Roderich deeply despises this since he thinks it's useless, but he still enjoys the art. Sometimes they get baroque like art that they can spend hours looking at and observing.

They both watch Eurovision together and laugh at the performances, They mostly do it for entertainment but it can also bring them to heated arguments over the result.

Roderich wakes up randomly at night to either smoke or eat and sometimes even both. He'll crawl out of their shared bed and go downstairs to get some food or smoke, Gilbert is a heavy sleeper so he doesn't often wake up when this happens. Gilbert knows about this though but only worries and confronts him about it when he thinks Roderich has been smoking too much. Roderich is trying to stop, but his nickname "the ashtray of Europe" unfortunately still stays with him even though he tries.

They both can waltz and are great at it. They play waltz music in the background while they're relaxing on the patio Incase they wanna suddenly dance, most of the time it's Gilbert who initiates it but Roderich is the one who will convince him to continue. They enjoy how close and intimate they feel and how soothing and relaxing it can even be sometimes, though they also take it too seriously and end up accidentally breaking something.

(that's all unfortunately, my hands hurt and I think my mom knows I took my phone even though I'm not supposed to have it rn)

#hetalia #aph austria #hws austria #axis powers hetalia #roderich edelstein #pruaus #hws prussia #aph prussia

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whump-card · 9 months

Text

I'm baaaaaaaaack!

Introducing: Sunless Lives Interludes!

Interludes are canonical but not-super-plot-relevant scenes. The number indicates where in the timeline they fall, or when they can safely be read without spoilers.

I am now taking prompts for these! I've never taken prompts before, I'm excited to know what people want expanded upon, or what character interactions you want to see. This one might be fluff, but they don't all have to be!

Without further preamble, here's Interlude 10.1: He Was a Joth.

~~~

“I was thinking. I told you my life story. Now I want to hear yours.”

Simon smiled at Matthew brightly, unphased by his mention of that dark night when he had poured his trauma out for Matthew. They sat cross-legged together on Simon’s floor, leaning against the couch and eating pasta alla norma that Matthew had made.

“Like, how did you learn how to cook?” Simon continued, taking a bite.

“My mom,” Matthew said, somewhat hesitantly. Simon glanced at him, sensing he’d stumbled upon a sore spot, but Matthew shrugged.

“I always cooked with her when I was little. She’s Italian - like, actually Italian, and she moved back to Italy when my parents divorced when I was…” He squinted, dredging up the dates. “Eleven, I think? I didn’t see her for a while, which was hard, but once I was old enough to travel alone I started flying out to see her every other year. Still do. We’re okay I guess, not super close anymore.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s alright. But yeah, I learned a lot of cooking from her, and it’s remained an interest of mine. I took culinary classes as an elective in college.”

Simon lifted a pasta-laden fork.

“Did they also teach you exclusively Italian dishes?” he smirked.

“No!” Matthew said, humorously overdefensive, “I just like Italian cooking.”

Simon giggled, which made Matthew flush red.

“What were you like as a kid?” Simon asked next.

“As a little kid, boring,” said Matthew, “I liked cars and airplanes and pretending to be a VIU agent.”

“Cute.”

“Then I did get a little weird when I was a teenager.”

Simon’s eyes lit up.

“Weird how?”

“Well, I was sad about my mom leaving, and I was starting to have feelings about boys, so I got really moody, and… kinda emo. Kinda goth.” Matthew couldn’t help but smile.

Simon leaned forward with a delighted grin.

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not! And the extra weird part was that I was this massive football player too, so I was living this double life where I would leave football practice to go headbang in some kid’s garage.”

“So you were a goth and a jock. A joth, if you will.” Simon cackled, “You know what, I see it, you still wear all black most of the time.”

“Oh my God,” Matthew groaned, “And there are these pictures of me with my goth friends where it’s a gaggle of twiggy little teens and then just me, looming like emo Hulk in the background.”

Simon nearly choked on his food.

“I need to see those pictures.”

“You will, you will!” Matthew promised, “When you meet my dad, he’ll show you albums full of embarrassing shit.”

Simon stilled.

“You want me to meet your dad?”

“Uh, yeah?” Matthew said, like it was obvious.

“We’ve only been dating for like, two weeks.” Simon smiled shyly.

“You don’t have to meet him if you don’t want to.”

“No, I want to, I just…” Simon wiggled his shoulders and grinned. “You like meee,” he gloated.

“Duh.” Matthew leaned forward and Simon eagerly met him with a quick kiss. They stayed there nose-to-nose for a moment, just smiling at each other, before Matthew sat back and asked:

“Tell me about your books.”

“My books?” Simon blinked.

Matthew nodded at Simon’s bookshelf.

“You have Lord of the Rings and stuff… Did you always read a lot?”

Simon looked away, but he smiled a little.

“My dad would read to me a lot when I was little, always fantasy. Kid-appropriate stuff, obviously, I branched out more when I moved here and could spend my own money.”

Matthew turned to run his eyes over the titles, and couldn’t help his curiosity.

“I haven’t read it, but I know Game of Thrones has a lot of, like… sexual violence. Does that bother you?”

Simon was surprisingly receptive to the question.

“Every once in a while, but not usually. It’s different when it’s fiction. It can be…” He paused, searching for the right word. “Cathartic.”

Matthew nodded.

“That’s good. I’m glad you have that.”

Simon ducked his head, smiling.

“Yeah, I don’t have a lot of other interests outside of work, just reading, and running, and... stuff.” He glanced at the TV console where his fashion magazines were stowed away in semi-secrecy.

“I could teach you to cook,” Matthew offered.

“Thanks, but… I don’t really like cooking. Sorry.” Simon’s brow furrowed.

“That’s okay,” Matthew said easily, “Do you… want to talk about it?”

Simon considered, but shook his head, sitting up straight with a smile.

“Nah. I don’t want to ruin the vibe.”

“Okay. Let me know if you ever do.” Matthew leaned forward for another kiss. This one lasted a little longer.

“You done eating?” Simon breathed.

“I could be.”

“My room?”

Matthew nodded.

“Oh yes.”

~~~

Masterlist

Taglist (let me know if you don't want to be on the taglist for these specifically!): @flowersarefreetherapy @pigeonwhumps @sunshiline-writes @seasaltandcopper

#whump #whump fic #whump writing #fluff #whump fluff #sunless lives #sunless lives interludes #Simon would read whump is what I'm saying #my writing

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weekend-conspiracy-theorist · 8 months

Text

an entry in the tim&steph role swap au

"And what's a little birdy like you doing out on a night like this?"

Robin spun around, rainwater splashing away from those bright yellow combat boots of hers, and gasped. "Oh my god!" Except she didn't sound shocked, or scared, or even righteously angry to find herself mask-to-mask with Catwoman. She just sounded excited, like any other teenage girl.

Selina raised her eyebrows, and dropped sinuously from her perch to join Robin on the rooftop. "What?" she asked, amused, as she paced a slow, wide circle around the girl. Curiosity would kill the cat one day, she knew, but there was no way she could pass up a chance for a good look at Batman's new Robin. The streets were positively abuzz.

This one was blonde. This one was a girl. This one--according to Eddie, nursing a broken nose and looking downright murderous--was just different.

Robin made an annoyed noise, flicking at the small white nub of the commline in her ear. "'Oh my god' like oh my god, B, shut up will you?"

The white out lenses of her domino mask hid the motion, but she could not be more obviously rolling her eyes if she tried. Or maybe she was trying--she pointed at her ear, scrunching her nose up, and made as close to eye contact as she could with Selina through the mask, as if to say, "This guy, huh?"

Selina snorted, the inelegance of the noise washed away beneath the patter of the rain.

"Your costume is absolutely spectacular," Robin chirped, bounding towards Selina--who danced back, staying out of reach, and shook a teasing finger.

"Uh uh, birdy. Flattery won't get you everywhere, you know."

"What? Ugh. No, I'm serious!" Robin rolled her eyes again. "I mean, eggplant would have been better, and I'm kind of crazy about purple pizzazz--you know, like the crayon?--but this is definitely like solid top five for shades of purple. Way, way better than that weird mauve the city uses for the sign backgrounds in Robinson Park. And your boots are cool! I don't think I can pull off thigh highs--"

"No fourteen-year-old can pull off thigh highs," Selina assured her, dry amusement rumbling through her chest. She didn't think the chatter was what Eddie'd been talking about, but he was right: this was a change.

"Well, that's a relief. But I'm not sure if I'll ever get there, you know? There's a specific kind of confidence to wearing thigh highs, and also a proportion thing, and you're definitely, like, 15% more leg than my mom is, which is more or less how I picture myself as an adult. But like, cooler. And with better taste in men." Robin wiped rain off of her face, a sparkling grin lighting up her face, and her cape snapped out behind her as she spun to keep Selina in view. "What are you doing out here, by the way? I thought cats didn't like rain."

"This, that, and the other," Selina purred. "But you never answered me, birdy."

"What? Batman and Robin always patrol. You're the one being weird." She turned her head, pointy chin nearly poking herself in the shoulder, looking back the way Selina had come. "I mean, you engaged me, so it's not like you've got stolen goods on you right now. But you wouldn't be out here in the rain if you didn't have to be either, which means you were doing some time sensitive recon. What's caught your eye at the Gotham Museum of Art?"

"Maybe I just think it's romantic to take a walk in the rain," Selina countered smoothly, refusing to acknowledge the shrewd deduction either positively or negatively. "Where is that hunky shadow of yours?"

"First of all, ew. You also need better taste in men. Second of all--" Robin leaned in, hand next to her mouth as she said, conspiratorially, "Honestly, I don't really care what you're trying to steal? I mean, we break into places and steal stuff all the time--sure, B." She rolled her eyes again, straightening, and placed her hands on her hips. "It's super different, because we're doing it to protect people. We have the hubris to move mountains, laws don't apply to us when we don't want them to, and the Commish has definitely never yelled at you about your methods ever in your life, especially not just a couple days ago about the Maretti case." Her face was pure innocence under the mask, her voice sparkling as she chirped, "No, of course I wasn't eavesdropping, Bossman. You asked me not to and I pinky promised."

Selina couldn't help it; she tipped her head back and laughed. "I like this one," she told the shadows on the next roof over. She'd heard the softest of rustles of his cape when he touched down, the quietest of sighs as his sidekick teased him. "She's got spunk." Selina turned her attention back to Robin, not surprised to find she'd taken advantage of Selina looking away to move in close--a lesser thief may not have noticed the tracker lightly pressed to her belt, but Selina was no lesser thief. She picked it back off, an amused twist to her lips as she flicked it away (Robin pouted), and tilted the girl's chin up with one clawed finger, smirking. "You know how to pick locks, kitten? What about a safe?"

She couldn't see the girl's eyes, but Robin's entire body language lit up. "Oh my god, please--"

"No, Robin," Batman rumbled. He was trying to sound stern, but Selina could hear the amusement underneath, and something in her own chest loosened.

He hadn't sounded like that in a while. Their tussles since... the last Robin... had been lacking that certain je ne sais quoi that Selina had always so savored. He had been laser focused on The Mission, getting back whatever she'd stolen, and not so much on... her.

But she had his attention now.

"C'mon, Bat," she purred, moving to stand behind Robin with her hands on the girl's shoulders, dropping her chin to damp blonde hair. "Let the kid live a little. All work and no play makes Robin a dull sidekick."

That got her a light elbow and a huff. "Partner," Robin corrected her stubbornly.

"Oh, darling, if it's a vigilante partnership you want, you've got better prospects than Batman. Don't you know the Black Canary's somewhere around here in Gotham, too?"

"B-man says I'm not allowed to meet any other Justice Leaguers until he can guarantee I'm not going to cause any trouble."

"So, never?" Selina guessed.

Robin cackled, bright and more than a little creepy, just like the two before her. Had Nightwing been giving lessons, or did it just come naturally once you found yourself dressed up like a traffic light?

The Bat opened his mouth, no doubt to say something annoyingly controlling yet inexplicably charming, but a gunshot rang out a few streets over, and it turned into a bark instead. "Robin!"

"On it!" She ducked out from under Selina's hands, her feet light as she splashed across the roof, grappling gun appearing in her hand almost like magic as she took the last bounding step up to the edge.

He was already turning to follow her, caught in Robin's wake like he really was her over-six-foot-tall shadow, but his gaze swept over Selina before he'd fully turned away. "We'll pick this up next time," he promised, a thread of heat in his voice, and with a great swoop of his cape he was gone.

Robin's faux gagging noises rose high above the distant sounds of violence, and Selina's laughter followed it into the sky.

#stephanie brown #selina kyle #bruce wayne #the tim&steph role swap au #just thinkin' big thoughts about catwoman's purple costume tbh

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secondratefiction · 11 months

Note

Hi! I don't know if you still have open applications, but if so, I would like to read something from you about Viktor Krum and the relationship with his family: is he an only child or does he have more siblings? grandparents? what are his parents like? what is he like as a son/brother/grandson?

I hope I won't bother you :)

You are absolutely not bothering me. Actually (and no offense to anyone who has sent me marvel requests, I will get to them, I promise) this is the first thing that has come in that spark my ‘I have to write this now’ inspiration. Full Disclaimer: You may have just opened pandora’s box, because I’ve recently found my joy in Harry Potter again after this insufferable hellsight almost sucked all of it away, and Krum has always been one of my favorite underrated characters.

Enough of my rambling though, let’s get into what you’re really here for…

So I did some digging, and the only concrete things I could find on Viktor Krum family wise are two unnamed parents with no other information, and an also unnamed grandfather who was killed by Grindelwald… Not much to go on, but leaves us plenty of room to play.

I see him as an only child of only children. Puerly of how he came across as more quiet, reserved, and standoff-ish around people he wasn’t fully comfortable around (i.e. - He opened up to Hermione, or his team, some school friends, etc. but you stick him in front of a bunch of cameras at a post match interview, and the man would rather turn himself inside out than stand there and answer questions.)

But what family he does have, he is super close to.

They are all his number one fans. And while I don’t see the family as people who would be outwardly loud and obvious with their affections, Viktor has never once had to doubt if he has any of their absolut love and support in anything.

I 100% believe his dad plays some kind of managerial role in his career. There is not a contract Viktor has signed that his father hasn’t gone over beforehand. In detail.

Dad has a background in business, Grandfather is whatever the wizard equivalent of a lawyer is. Between the two of them, they have all of that kind of stuff covered. And Viktor is more than happy to leave them to it because it honestly gives him a headache trying to read through all the legal jargon.

Viktor had to move when he started playing professionally, and for the first year or so, his grandfather went with him until they were all comfortable (as could be at least) with him living on his own.

He absolutely never misses a chance to come home though. Not only to get away from life in a much larger city, but just because he’s the type to genuinely enjoy being home with his family and getting to relax and decompress.

He likes cooking with his grandmothers. And as they get older he’s not only happy, but enthusiastic to take over most of the work while they give him the instructions on what to do.

At the end of the day though, Viktor is a giant momma’s boy more than anything else. Anything she asks, he does, almost before she can even finish her sentence.

His friends used to tease him about it a lot, but he’s never been phased by it, and like hell is he going to let anyone making stupid comments dictate his relationship with his mom.

His mom is the only one to really use a nickname for him - she calls him either little mouse (because he was a quiet child) or little bird (because of how easily he took to flying at a young age) in bulgarian.

Every year he takes a camping trip with his dad and grandfather in the summertime. They’re usually gone for about a week

A little bonus content: Viktor as a dad

I came up with this character (Aleksandar Krum) years ago, and he’s still one of my favorite ocs

The day his son was born Viktor absolutely did not know what to do with himself. There were far too many emotions, and he’s still never sorted all of them out.

It was clear from a very early age that his son had a natural curiosity and a knack for learning, and Viktor threw himself into nurturing that whole heartedly.

They were always doing something to let Alek get his hands on and learn something new. And once it became clear that his interest really lie in learning about other cultures, Viktor made it his mission to take him to as many different countries around the world as he can.

Alek does have his father’s natural talent for flying, and Viktor does spend a good bit of time on a broom with him. But he’s never tried to force quidditch on his son.

He actually got really upset with one interviewer who tried to push the idea that because his son was a Krum, he should be playing regardless of whether it was what he wanted or not. It’s the only interview Viktor has ever gotten up and stormed out of.

Let’s be honest here: Viktor Krum basically turns into Hamilton in Dear Theodosia. Man loves his kid more than anything.

#harry potter #viktor krum #viktor krum headcanons #character headcanons #requests #holy shit this got away from me...

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mlobsters · 3 months

Text

supernatural s14e5 nightmare logic (w. meredith glynn)

i haven't been engaged with a main plot on this show in a long time but man, every new season i just get more and more tired. michael using grace?? to juice up super monsters, jack doing unspecified potential evil-erasing, ad nauseam

i thought this maggie girl wasn't an on the ground type hunter, and with how they always have harped on not hunting alone.. good things sure to come.

DEAN You kids have fun out there. SAM Don't even say it. DEAN What? No, it's good. It's got, like, a very camp-counselor vibe to it. Just need to get you a whistle.

at least he looks pretty fond while he's saying it :p

DEAN You got any rest lately, like at all? I mean, look, man, I know things are crazy right now, okay? I mean, hell, I just went toe-to-toe with my own personal horror-movie icon, but we all need our beauty sleep. SAM Dean, I have 16 Hunters on cases right now. That's not counting Jack and Cas in Sarasota or Mom and Bobby working that rugaru in Texas. DEAN Okay, you know that these people survived a war, right? SAM Yeah, but a war isn't Hunting. These people need, uh, lore and weapons and tips and backup, and -- Look, don't worry (phone chimes) about me, all right? I'm -- I'm -- I'm good.

where's uh. garth? someone else to delegate some of the hunter wrangling to? does he still do that post-werewolfing? this is ridiculous. whatever

having a hard time wrapping my head around those hills in the background there

DEAN Huh. Private cemetery. Must be nice. SAM What?

ok that got a smile out of me

DEAN Something on your mind, Bobby? BOBBY Yeah. Your brother. He let Maggie come here when she had no idea what she was walking into. (pause) She wasn't ready.

i mean. based on what the show showed us about her before, inclined to agree. but whatever! heavy is the head blah blah

MARY Look, don't listen to Bobby. SAM Um, maybe he's right, you know? I encouraged her. Maybe he's right about me, about everything. MARY Sam. Watching you these last few weeks, you know what I've been saying to myself? "This is what he was born to do." If Bobby can't see that, then it's not the only thing he's been missing lately.

maybe he is but i rolled my eyes nonetheless. all this is just so out of left field

SAM I wasn't gonna mention it. None of my business, but it did seem like you'd gotten pretty close lately. MARY Yeah, and I thought so, too. Maybe, but since we've been back, things have changed.

there had been a lot of meaningful looks. i was wonder if they were gonna have yet another younger woman be interested in him

SAM Have you asked? MARY Bobby's not open like your dad. SAM Wait. Like my dad? MARY Okay. At least he's not like your dad was when I knew him.

L O L

MARY Bobby's got walls, big ones. I just don't know if I can do that if I even ever put myself out there again. (chuckles) I shouldn't be talking to you about this.

seriously, why does bobby pull literally all the ladies? ellen (in an alternate timeline), jody, his neighbor lady marcy, mary, that lady with the awful sword in the stone bit. get you a lady in her 40s, she's there for it. they were all born around 1970, he was born in 1950. and he's never had the most winning personality

BOBBY You think I was too hard on your brother back there. DEAN He's doing his best. He's doing better than his best. You know, this whole Hunter Five-O thing -- he's -- he's killing himself over it. He doesn't eat, he doesn't sleep, grew himself one of those Kenny Rogers beards. No offense.

tell him, dean. but i mean, also, i kinda agreed with bobby. but no one makes perfect decisions - and especially not when sleep deprived and underfed

DEAN Can I give you a little advice? Let it go. The past is… There's nothing you can do about it now, so… it's just baggage. Let it go. You'll feel a lot lighter. SASHA Is that what you do? DEAN I try. Every single day.

the snort i snorted. okay i feel like he's had this conversation before but then admitted that he can't/is terrible at it. oh god. i'm never gonna remember who he was talking to/when. ughhh

anyway, old chestnut of giving someone advice that you need yourself

bobby getting beaten up by his dead (smited??) son. sure. is he gonna survive the angel blade skewering to a tree through the left side of his chest

upgraded by michael djinn that can manifest nightmares, sure sure

NEIL Relax. I won't let anything happen to Michael's favorite monkey suit, but I am curious (distorted voice) what are your nightmares? [The djinn puts a hand on Dean’s forehead. His grin falls. He lets Dean go.] NEIL You -- You're --

mmmk. vaguely ominous

DEAN You did this. You got her home.

now eat a sandwich and go to bed

no prob, bob

BOBBY I'm the one that brought him to war. I'm the one who sent him to die. I don't even know what they did to him. The angels took them. We never found the bodies. I never figured I'd be any kind of a father to a child. But Daniel… was the best thing in my life. (sighs deeply) I always assumed that war'd kill me, too, but it didn't. I guess lately, I've -- I've been looking for other options. MARY The Hunting. BOBBY It ends the same. MARY No. You are not allowed to give up on me. BOBBY I don't… I don't know any other way to live. MARY Then we'll find one.

all right then. this is a lot

that was a sweet moment there, good job, samantha. but now i'm crying because i'm like. WHEN DO DEAN AND SAM GET TO JUST BE HAPPY, HUH???? and we get the mushy music for the hugs and goodbye

DEAN Garth? It's Dean. Here's the deal --

speak of the devil

SAM Dean -- DEAN I know, I know. Not my fault. It's Michael. It's all Michael. (scoffs) You know, I've been trying to -- not forget, but to move on from what I -- from what we -- from what he did. And I got to be honest, I was -- I was starting to feel like myself again. Almost. SAM So we'll work harder. DEAN How, Sam? You get sleep three hours of sleep a night. SAM All right, then -- then -- then I'll sleep two. Dean, we're going to find Michael, and when we do, we will kill him.

you cannot function on that little sleep for an extended period of time this is just stupid.

DEAN How? SAM I don't know. We'll -- We'll -- We'll track down Dark Kaia and her spear. We'll -- We'll find something. DEAN I hope you're right.

am i missing something? did the two archangel blades disappear?? reading the wiki without trying to completely spoil myself, i see it says it can only kill an archangel when wielded by another archangel. hokay. did we know that?

#supernatural #spnwatch #spn 14x05 #spn clip #spn mushy music #meredith glynn

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underscore-jude · 1 year

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can you go more in depth on how you would’ve changed kourt’s anxiety storyline and her storyline with jet I would love to hear more about that!

yes yes yes ofc i was just getting sooo angry while writing my last post that i decided to leave it where it was lololol

(also the more I wrote this the more i realized I either literally am Kourtney or I just project onto her a lot. lol. lmao. sorry about that but this is MY version of hsmtmts after all. and i added a keep reading cause this got fucking long goddamn)

so we've been told but not really shown that Kourtney, Ricky, Nini, and Big Red have been friends since grade school and then Ricky and Nini's dating and subsequent breakup split them apart, and im a sucker for childhood friendships, so i really want to lean into that

in addition to the inherent heart rate increase of anyone with anxiety (or at least, in my experience with GAD), Kourtney has a lot to be worried about over the summer. My childhood best friend and I clung to each other in anxiety-related situations a LOT, so I can really relate to Kourtney and Nini from that standpoint. So first of all, she's without Nini and Michelle, the two most important people in her life, and also the two people who have dealt with her Kourtney-ism the most in the past year. Big Red and Ricky used to be good at all that, but then the Big Bad Summer of 2019 happened and she just hasn't been as close to them, y'know?

She's never been one for romance. Nini was always the desirable one, she was fine to be the one in the background, the funny best friend who gave all of Nini's suitors the shovel talk, and now she's got Howie and they call each other boyfriend and girlfriend- they're not gonna see each other for two weeks. In my version, Howie isn't just randomly a senior even tho he was a junior in s2- he's away doing a residency at a professional theatre. She doesn't get to talk to him a lot, because he's super busy, but she's sure that things between them are just fine. Right? He'd never forget about her like that. Right? A song can mean everything. Isn't that what Ricky always said? But she knows all too well how that ended for him and Nini...

And then she learns that the performance is going to be filmed and put on Disney+, something that millions of people watch every day! She's going to be everywhere- and then she learns that she's going to be everywhere as ELSA! The first black Elsa on TV! She, Kourtney Greene, the Ultimate Best Friend, is going to be front and center in the iconic sparkly blue dress and singing one of the most legendary Disney songs ever...

So yeah, Kourtney has a lot to be nervous about this summer.

Ashlyn and Gina offer their support, but it's notoriously hard for someone with anxiety to open up and allow someone new to be their support system after feeling like they've burdened others for so long with it. So early in rehearsals, she sings the song "Monster". It comes across as a little too real. She leaves.

After letting her have some time by herself, who comes to check up on Kourtney? Ricky! He makes his case. It's been a year. A lot has changed. He knows that things will never be the same but you can't take away eleven years of friendship, and Ricky knows Kourtney well enough to know that something's up. For as long as the group had been together, they'd really just referred to it as her Kourtney-ism and whatnot, but it really doesn't feel right to talk about it that way anymore. RECONCILIATION TIME!!! GIVE ME THESE TWO AS BESTIES, T*M!!!! AAAAAAAA

So, slowly, Kourtney learns to open up to those around her- not just Ricky, but Carlos, and Gina, and Ashlyn, and all of her friends who make it clear that she's not alone. When she gets her Color War phone call, she calls her mom. Tells her that she wants to start seeing a proper therapist. She has a lot of tics, like picking at her nails, so she and Carlos take to repainting their nails together almost nightly- she's not gonna get over it immediately, but her friends do what they can to make her as comfortable as possible. Thus explaining why Carlos and Kourtney had different nails almost every single day at camp lol

So the elephant in the room would be Jet. He's playing Kristoff this time around, remember- just something you might want to keep in mind for later, lol.

So, as a massive massive lesbian, I fell in love with Kourtney pretty much the moment she appeared on my television screen, and Jet, getting to meet her in person, would probably fall even harder. Now, Jet is just... so very unaware of what to do when he actually has a crush, and he'd probably do something like what my autistic ass does whenever I have a crush- MAKE THINGS WEIRD AND SAD

So Jet purposefully avoids most of the people because he does not want to be there. However, he does have a habit of agreeing with Kourtney, hanging around Kourtney, being so so very awkward around Kourtney, like in the Real Campers of Shallow Lake episode but dialed up to eleven.

Ricky, being Kourtney's closest friend at camp and Jet's only friend at camp, notices something is up pretty much right away and considers playing matchy matchy matchmaker before deciding to be an annoying "good friend" instead and slyly mentioning to Jet that he should be open if he has a crush, but also mentioning that if anyone were to ever break Kourtney's heart he'd kill them. This, obviously, does not make Jet feel any better, so while he's trying to get Maddox to trust him again, he starts talking about little sibling things, such as the fact that he has a crush and his big sister might be just the person to help him figure all that out, etc. As their relationship improves over the season, the amount of gentle ribbing about each other's crushes also grows. To the extent where Maddox almost straight up says something about Jet and Kourtney in front of the whole group and Jet nearly dies on the spot.

As he continues to come out of his shell, Kourtney does start to really like Jet- as a friend, at first. Romance just doesn't come first to her mind, really (kourtney is an ace icon wbk, and she's not necessarily aro but somewhere on that spectrum. it's canon cause i say so) and she is more focused on releasing herself from the burdens of her own brain as best she can because she doesn't exactly have access to a therapist or medication yet. But soon, feelings start to arise. The other girls will tease her, and the boys urge Jet to ask Kourtney for a dance at the camp prom, and when he ultimately can't do it, Carlos is the one to say it's okay- he knows you shouldn't push yourself to do things you're not ready for (such as some traditions. it all connects you see, i'm a genius)

It's really easy to just say "if you like them, just go ask them out" to someone who is not dealing with the constant barrage of thoughts that every second you're not asking them out you're wasting your life away but you also can't face the possible embarrassment of being rejected, so you resign yourself to a life of pining from the wings (literally).

So this time around, it's Jet singing Kristoff's Lullaby during the Frozen performance and giving Kourtney meaningful looks, rather than the tired old dragged out love triangle we got in the original season!

So when the doc premiere happens, and everyone is left with the wreckage of what they've been edited to look like, Kourtney has to ask Jet what that meant. His confession couldn't have been edited that much- he said what he said. And Jet owns up to it- he's had a dumb little schoolboy crush on Kourtney since he first laid eyes on her and has only come to fall even harder after learning that she's compassionate, funny, kind, and talented in addition to pretty. And that all he wants is to know if she could ever consider feeling the same.

And Kourtney... doesn't know. She's not used to opening up her heart. She's not used to being desirable- people actually having feelings for her is something she's still having a hard time accepting as possible. Everything has been such a whirlwind since first arriving at camp. And that's exactly what she tells Jet. That she doesn't want to jump headfirst into something despite the fact that there's definitely a part of her that wants to. Jet wants to be mad. He wants to be so angry. But he's also managed to grow up a little bit. So he says that he'll always respect Kourtney, no matter what. But he'll also always love her.

When Kourtney gets home, confusion abounds. She's got enough "real" problems to talk about her therapist with that she doesn't exactly feel like boy problems are the right thing to be taking to them. She heads into work and waiting at the staff door to give her a kiss on the cheek and welcome her home is Howie. Her heart stops. Her brain is full of fog again.

And vine boom kourtney's s3 arc ends ;)

#LOLOLOLOL GET WORMED #but fr this turned out very long #im #so sorry #i love kourtney so so so so so sosososososososososo much if you could n't tell #kourtney greene #hsmtmts #jude is talking #asks #jetney #jet hsmtmts

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banana-breadses · 1 year

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holy shit your object show as a whole sounds so interesting if you woulnd't mind i want to hear more

okie lets go! (long ramble ahead)

My show is called Roll Credits!

plot wise its just your standard object show with challenges eliminations and a huge plot thing later in the season! the characters is where it gets fun ;-)

here are the first drawings of most of the characters. its not the best, but they're all here! lets go in order:

Water Bottle(she/her): Athletic! likes sports and excersise. complete opposite of Towel.

Towel(she/her): Lazy! likes television and sleeping. complete opposite of Water Bottle.

Textbook(he/him): Smart! is a green book! i have since updated his design, and added glasses and some blocks of text on his cover. also BAD AT TALKING

Rubik's Cube(he/him): Organized! basically my younger brother's self insert. dont know much about him but hey he seems cool.

Sugar Cookie(she/her): My girl! love her! first character of them all,an oc before i wanted to make a show. Ive talked all about her before, and I love her <3

Snowflake(he/him): honestly he's the one ive thought the least about. cool guy, really chill(pun intended)

Drum(they/them): Likes music i guess. I love them but all conversations end up in an argument because of the ~transphobic family~

Bowl(he/they/it): Cool guy. also a god. this was drawn before he was a god. doesn't talk i also have an original drawing for God Bowl that i dont really like anymore but if you wanna see it... (more lore to come!)

Bill(he/him): Rich! Bowl's best friend, and talks a lot. makes up for Bowl's silence.

Sunglasses(both he/him): the hosts! individually their names are Sun and Glass. Sun is excitable and energetic, and Glass is a cool guy.

Measuring Tape(she/they): Mom friend? i think? no matter what I am in love with their shape!!! she's so cute!!1

Glow Stick(she/her): rowdy teenager! likes to party and have fun. Her emotions do get really big(like me!) and she changes mood really intensely really quickly.

Flashlight(she/her): Cute girl! love her! she's the youngest of the group. kind to everyone, knows everyone, but doesn't have any real friends. Until now! with compassion she and Glow Stick become good friends :)

Speaker(he/him): didn't have a personality, but now he still doesn't! yknow how Rob in TAWOG forces his way from a background character to the villain? Speaker's kinda like that. doesn't have a personality, but hacks into the settings of the show to give himself one.

Pinecone(he/him):!!!!! the angry one!!!! used to be a criminal. he has been cloned!! and he doesn't really know it. as far as Pinecone knows, he got hit with a sciencey beam and thats it.

Marble(he/him):uuuuhh a last minute addition. dont know much about him. :/

Key(he/him): very calm. Kinda like Candle II. his eyes are always closed because when he opens them theyre so shiny it would blind everyone. why? you'l never know(unless you ask him(he polishes them(with bleach)))

Twig(she/her): TWIG!!!! Love her!!! very soft spoken and loves her leaf. doesn't understand people all the time, but she tries :o)

Mushroom(she/her): the mediator. Likes gardening, and tries to keep her alliance from falling apart.

those are all the main characters! there are a few side characters like the mafia, their parents, and the gods.

okie the mafia:

Coney(he/any): Pinecone's clone. wants to distance themself from him a lot, so he became a criminal! leads a band of friends despicable objects.

Poinsettia(she/her): tries to stay calm. Tall. super cool

Butter Knife(they/them): anxious to all tomorrows. i have never seen them not anxious.

Tie(he/she): chaotic. has maybe killed someone for real......? she wont tell.

honestly the mafia is just Team Rocket level evil, but Coney honestly tries to be bad.

their parents are just a few things ive thought about. Sugar Cookie's parents are Chocolate Chip Cookie and Cake, Rubik's cube's parents are Puzzle and Paint Pallet, and Measuring Tapes parents are Ruler and Tape. Ive come up with more(not all of them).

TAPE!!!! LOOK AT HIM!!! HE IS SO SHAPED!!!

the gods are still a bit of a mystery to me. there are twelve of them, (all dishware) but the only ones that are really important and fleshed out are Bowl and Plate. Plate was Bowl's caretaker when it was young, and after Bowl ran away, she got really depressed and holed up in the gods' realm. they all have varying numbers of eyes and wings.

here's a picture of Plate and a ladle guy i might make a god.

okie those are all the characters! (not even all of them I still havent mentioned Doll or any of the alliances ;))

#nimbus speaks #nimbus arts #ocs #Roll Credits

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purplesurveys · 2 years

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1554

Are there any specific things you have to do every night before you go to bed? Apply ointment on my shoulders, lower back and tummy, and sometimes my calves. My body is always utterly sore at the end of each day so being able to do this before I turn in helps in making me feel more relaxed.

I also prefer background noise on as I fall asleep, so what I’ll do is turn on a random video, let YouTube autoplay do its thing, and then I’ll have the timer on my phone set to 1.5 hours so that when time’s up my phone can close the video on its own. When you're in a relationship, do you like a lot of space, or do you prefer to talk to them as much as possible? In my past relationship I was quite clingy and liked to spend every chance I had to talk to my partner. I now realize that that is Not Healthy and I know that in whatever future relationships I’ll be having, I’ll be asking for lots of space in between just so that I can live my own life too and they theirs.

When you go to the zoo, what enclosure do you head to first? There aren’t really animals that I absolutely have to see first. I prefer to just go the zoo’s natural route since I’ll end up looking at all of them anyway.

When you get sick, are you a "good patient" or do you tend to complain about it a lot? Idk, I guess I’m pretty good. I never get sick so when I do, my parents get super attentive and prepare whatever food I want and I guess I just appreciate the treatment, haha.

When the power goes out when you're on the computer, what do you tend to do instead? This happened last Thursday when the power went out in the middle of my shift :/ Anyway, I couldn’t just tell my workmates I was gonna bounce for the rest of the afternoon since the workload that day was intense, so I had no choice but to continue working using the data from my phone.

Do you buy DVD's, or do you prefer watching them online for free? Oh wow, we stopped buying DVDs a decade ago. Anyway these days I watch most movies and series on Netflix, and if they aren’t on there then I’d look for one of those illegal movie streaming sites.

When was the last time one of your parents was angry with you? Why? It was a few days ago and it was just my mom complaining that I can never seem to keep my closet neat. I can’t remember a time either of them were legitimately and seriously angry with me.

How long have your parents left you in the house by yourself for? The longest had been like a week and a half when my mom went on a cruise trip with my dad.

How old were you when your parents started letting you stay home alone? It was around the time I started high school; by then my parents already trusted me and my siblings to handle being at home by ourselves. Before then we used to have househelp, but none of them ever met my mom’s standards of neatness and such hahaha so eventually she gave up on having them around.

Do your parents let people of the opposite sex sleep over in your room? No. Guys aren’t allowed on the second floor (where all the bedrooms are) hard stop, and can only hang out within the first floor and our rooftop.

If you wake up during the night, what do you do when you can't get back to sleep again? I haven’t had this issue in a while, but I imagine I would just toss and turn till I find a position comfortable enough to help me fall back asleep. If nothing works I pull out my phone and either look for a video to lull me to sleep, or go through Reddit since reading tends to make me feel sleepy.

Do you have enough credits to change your Xanga username? Would you change it if you could? --

Have you ever suffered from insomnia, or from some other type of sleep disorder? Only as a teenager. I haven’t had a problem with sleeping for a long time now, since I usually stay long enough to the point of exhaustion anyway. Could you cope sharing a room with someone who snored? Depends on the snoring. If it’s like a constant purr it’s fine lmao, but staying with someone with an obnoxiously loud snore is unbearable to me.

Do any parts of your body crack a lot? My legs tend to. Do you have all your wisdom teeth through yet? Have you ever had one taken out before? I’ve had two removed so far; and during my last extraction my dentist gave me a heads-up that he’s already spotted another one, but I’d rather wait til that starts to hurt before I go through another extraction lol.

Do you prefer curly or straight hair when it comes to your preferred sex? No preference in hair.

Do you enjoy thunderstorms, or do you still find it all a bit scary? I love them.

What's your ideal type of weather? Do you get that weather a lot where you live? It’s the best when the temperature plays around the mid-20s and when the weather is bleak, cloudy, rainy; I am generally not a big fan of sunny weather. We do get a bit of rain around July to September, but for the most part we’re under the sun.

If you dye your hair, do you do it yourself at home, or do you pay to go to the hairdresser and get it done professionally? I get it done professionally because I don’t trust myself to do a decent job. What household chore do you not mind doing? Washing the dishes and sweeping and mopping the floor. Would you say you ate a healthy diet, or do you eat a lot of junk food and unhealthy snacks? It’s somewhere in between. I like my fair share of veggies but I also like to get food delivery of my cravings, but it’s not like I eat cheeseburgers 8 times a day or have a constant stock of chips at home lol.

Do you find you tend to get sick when you're stressed out about something? Sure. I can’t tell you how many times I feel like throwing up every week.

What do you do with your hair when you can't be bothered to style it properly and need to go somewhere? Low ponytail, with my hair parted in the middle.

What's your favourite film from the last five years? Portrait of a Lady on Fire. When you're on the computer, do you listen to music or watch TV more often? I have YouTube videos on allllllll the time, whether I’m watching them directly or have them as background noise.

Do you have any snacks in your room for when you get hungry? What? Nope, don’t really like keeping food in my room since that would just invite a whole battalion of ants to come over and that’s never pleasant.

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actuallylorelaigilmore · 7 months

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2022 MOVIE OF THE WEEK #32

last christmas. this movie was such a mixed bag for me. i watched it nearly a year ago, and as i’m writing this now, i still don’t know how i feel about it! this year, as i was working through reviews leftover from last year, it took me a long time to realize that i never even put this movie in my drafts TO review it--it just completely slipped my mind. i don’t know if that says anything about my feelings towards it...but it’s the only movie i forgot so it feels notable.

part of my issue with this movie is probably the fact that i went in expecting to like it. i didn’t know anything about the story, and i didn’t realize michelle yeoh was in it until it began, but i looked forward to emilia clarke and emma thompson. and since crazy rich asians is still also on my watchlist i was looking forward to meeting henry golding...i didn’t really consider the possibility of less than loving it.

so i settled in to watch this movie last year with @actuallylukedanes, and immediately we were both confused. this is the kind of movie that drops you into the story and doesn’t provide a lot of details upfront, leaving you guessing while you wait for things to unfold. and that’s what we spent this entire movie doing--guessing. guessing and debating out loud what might explain what was happening: the characters’ behavior, the backstories, the magical elements.

it’s not like i mind doing that; lively discussion is usually a part of how we watch stuff. but admittedly, i’m used to the stories i watch making more sense as they unfold, most of the time. and being more explained. (though not always! watchmen was a baffling puzzle as i watched. it was also the most rewarding puzzle i’ve encountered in ages.)

so even though some of leander's guesses did end up eventually being the correct ones, for the plot reveals, the problem we both had by the end was that we didn’t want those ones to turn out to be true. spending the movie waiting for answers gave us all that time to imagine the possibilities, and that meant we also had time to figure out how we wished the movie would have gone, and it wasn’t how it actually did.

in actuality, the movie was so close to being something i loved, and such an odd-but-wonderful love story...and then it ended in a way that was meant to be uplifting but simultaneously undermined all the energy i had invested in the idea of that relationship. it left me feeling sad but also like i couldn’t fully be sad because my understanding of what played out turned out not to be real--so my feelings weren’t real.

but the cast was great! though i will forever be deeply confused about why emma thompson wanted to help make this movie (go her) but for some reason that also meant she needed to act in it, too, playing a traumatized character with a heavy accent. that was also a point of discussion while watching, simply because they could have gotten an actress from the background they fit into the story, rather than having an incredibly well-known british actress do it.

i just...i don’t consider myself to be super intense about how far actors should be allowed to reach outside their own life experience. i think some things are genuinely inappropriate in casting, and others are more iffy, and some stuff i probably don’t even notice or care about. but the main character’s mom in this movie is so fraught and so interesting, and i could imagine an actress bringing much more to the role based on her life experience, while the movie could have offered the opportunity to showcase someone without emma thompson’s fame. and as a viewer i would have also benefited from that, because i love emma thompson a ton but even as she was funny and sad playing this part, the fact that she was the one playing it distracted me in a way that nobody else did, from the suspension of disbelief.

now, all that having been said, i loooooved henry golding in this. i can’t wait to see him again. and michelle yeoh was as fun as i expected, unsurprisingly. her own plot within the movie was bizarre and delightful and i was there for it. emilia clarke was great, too, and the actors who i wasn’t familiar with who played her family were interesting to watch.

it was really just the end that disappointed me, in a way that affected the whole movie retroactively, because once i knew how it ended i knew i would never want to watch it again. which made me question why anybody would want to make a movie that leaves people feeling that way, conflicted. i have to assume that not everybody did feel that way about it, otherwise it wouldn’t exist! but it definitely wasn’t the experience i went in hoping for, though it had some great parts.

#last christmas #2022 motw #emilia clarke #emma thompson #henry golding #michelle yeoh #actuallylukedanes

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sirchubbybunny · 2 years

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It's weird sometimes how you'll hear something and it just hits you super hard, awakening old memories or bringing the ones that are like background noise to the front of your mind. I came across the music video for Reasons I Drink and it took me right back to where I was between 2013-2017, and to some degree, even now.

In 2013, I was on the behavioral unit of my hospital twice for my ideation and the gap between those instances was two weeks at best. I thought I was fine. I thought I was getting better. I saw my dad and step mom during my second stay for the first time in years. I was feeling out a relationship and started feeling okay. I was also super medicated, which was the start to worse things to come.

By June, I was involuntarily committed to an actual mental health facility due to a shady doctor twisting my words and used a two year old ideation "call of the void" thought I had with my therapist against me. I had all of my meds changed, including being taken off klonopin cold turkey - which isn't safe. I'd have to get up early and get pulled aside every other day to get lab work due to being put on lithium to ensure my levels weren't getting toxic. I waited by the payphone every day hoping my dad would call to say he was on his way to see me. It's been nine years and my phone still doesn't ring.

Being there fucking sucked, even though I got along with the other patients who were 35 or so and up, with me being one of maybe five others in our 20s. We mutually related to how group and their idea of exercises was a total joke. Anagram art projects aren't healing affirmations. Magic ball games aren't getting to the core of my trauma or helping me work on my communication skills. That's all on top of the gaslighting with being told I got myself there, not by the other patients, but my then doctor. It made getting discharged all the more bittersweet. I had very little, rock solid support and I was going back into the world adjusting to new meds.

The weeks became months and I'd still think about klonopin and what it meant to me on top of how the hospital felt more like home than my own. I remember writing and journaling about both and looking back, it should have been telling I had issues if I talked about benzos like an ex you still have feelings for. The thoughts and feelings would gradually get spaced out, but they'd still creep in every so often like a whisper. It made wanting to talk about it hard, and even now, I feel like I'm crazy. It's been years. Why am I still thinking about you?

I remember an instance two or so years later where it was suggested that I could get some from someone who knew people, but I bit my tongue and declined. I don't know if that makes me a stronger person or not. I don't know where I'd be if I said yes and gave it a try to self medicate. I'm not sure if I want to know, but there's a part of me that looks down on my past self for not trying and taking a chance. The memory of it and what it did for me and to me still sticks to my clothes like nicotine. I'd like to forget completely, but it's hard.

It was hard to admit to myself five years ago that if I was left to my own devices with no personal obligations, I'd probably try to use with the right resources and that's on top of the downward spiral nights of drinking alone at 2am trying not to wake anyone up. It brought on one of the hardest parts of my life in the last few years; an explosive argument with one person and the feeling of shame and sadness with another for knowing how deep rock bottom goes. How did it get this bad? It's been years. I never used recreationally. Why do I miss you? Would I be able to quit you if I had you close to me again?

I'm in therapy now and we've briefly touched on it after having having some heavy intrusive thoughts about two months ago about how we [my thoughts @ me] should do something fun like pills and binge drinking. She knows about how I've been exploited by mental health professionals and on close to two dozen different medications since I was 17. I mentioned the benzos and how much it still sticks with me, not knowing if there's something physically or psychologically wrong with me or what. I think she suggested that perhaps it isn't a physiological type of need or anything like that, but an out to cope with all of the shit I've been through. I was so medicated that I was just gone some days. It's hard to get stuck in a flashback if you aren't even here.

With the anniversary of my last hospital stay coming up, it feels harder to face - moreso than years ago. I'm just starting the healing process of facing my trauma, how it's affected my relationships, and my new PTSD diagnosis. It's a daily struggle to keep the fears of abandonment away and the paranoia that people are either upset with me, lying to me, using me, talking behind my back, or conspiring to leave me once my purpose has been fully utilized - whatever that might be. It's the constant calm before the storm with waiting for the other shoe to drop when something like a flashback comes and hits me full force.

Now, the memories are just lingering around; giving me a nod across the room like an ex you're still on amicable terms with. I miss you, even though we weren't good for each other. It's been years. Why do you still come and go for me? I haven't felt you on my lips in close to a decade. Why can't I let you go? I keep trying to tell myself I'm fine and that I'm getting better. People tell me I am and that I genuinely look better, but am? It feels like I'm constantly one really bad day from another slip and I have to ask myself again if I had the means to and no obligations, would I try to use and see if it would help me cope or not?

Do I even have that willpower? I don't know and I'm not sure if that should scare me.

For all the reasons I could, I have to keep the one that matters in the front of my mind not to. If I can't do it for me, do it for my friends who are sober. Do it for them and make them proud. They've been clean and open about what their struggles and relationships to their vices are like, even having a good, albeit sometimes dark sense of humor about it. I don't want to let them down. I don't want them to worry. I don't want to be stuck in the past anymore. I can't. This shit fucking sucks and I'm not sure how much journaling will get me out of this one.

#mental health

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nevermindirah · 3 years

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Do you have any thoughts on the use of AAVE for Nile (or lack thereof) in TOG fanfiction? I've been reading some Book of Nile fic and some writers seem to write her as a Millennial™ (using words like "fave" and "woke") but never acknowledge her Blackness in her patterns of speech. I know we don't see her use as much AAVE in the films, but I would argue she's in situations where code-switching would be valued (first in a "professional" environment in the army, then around a group of non-Black strangers).

Hi anon! I have many thoughts on this and I'm honored you asked me! But I should start by saying I'm white and any thoughts Black fans and especially Black American fans have on this that they want to share would be beyond lovely. (I'm not gonna tag anybody bc that feels rude but please add onto this post if any of y'all see this and want to!)

The main reason I personally avoid AAVE for Nile in my own fics is because I'm not Black. But Nile-centric fics by Black writers tend to avoid using much of it too, at least from what I've noticed/understood, and my guess is it's largely for the reason you mention, that she's in situations that encourage code-switching.

In movie canon Nile is highly competent at tailoring her language to each situation she finds herself in. This fantastic linguistics analysis meta shows how skillfully Nile chooses her vocabulary and grammar to meet her goals with different conversation partners in different contexts. In comics canon Nile had a bunch of different civilian jobs before joining the Marines, so she would've had experience code-switching in the ways that made sense for all those different contexts as well as the Marines and her family and high school and wherever else she spent her time before we met her. And now she's spending her time with a handful of immortals none of whom are native English speakers and a fellow Black American but one with a Queen's English UK accent whose professional experience is in the CIA where high-status code-switching is often an absolute must for success or even survival.

Fics featuring Nile are charged with extrapolating from that to how it might show up in her use of language that she's coping with a traumatic separation from her family and her career and pretty much everything she's ever known and now she needs to be able to make herself understood to people who seem to care about her and each other but are super duper in crisis, three (soon to be four) of whom predate Modern English entirely and the only one who's anywhere near her contemporary she's not supposed to talk to for a century. All of these people are telling her that pretty much any contact with any mortals poses an existential threat to her and the rest of the group. How the FUCK is she supposed to cope with that, like, generally? And would it be a more effective way for her to cope if she talked to Andy Joe and Nicky using the speech patterns that she used to use with her mom and brother, to at least retain that part of her identity even if it means having to do a lot of explaining, or would it meet her needs better to prioritize Andy Joe and Nicky understanding what she means with her words over using the particular words and grammar forms she used with her family?

I've seen several fics, both Nile-centric / BoN and otherwise, explore this a little bit in how/whether Nile uses Millennial™ speak. It's often a theme in Nile texting Booker despite the exile because of the popular headcanon that he as The Tech Guy is the only other immortal who understands memes. But Nile's much-younger-than-Booker mom probably uses Boomer and/or Gen X memes and Andy has been adapting to new communication styles for forever as evidenced by her canon high level of fluency with standard-American-accented English.

Which brings us back to people avoiding AAVE because they're not Black and they don't want to make mistakes (or they're not Black and they don't want to get yelled at for making mistakes, though I think many people overestimate how much they'll get yelled at while underestimating how much these mistakes can hurt). I can imagine some Black fans hold back from using much AAVE in fic because they don't want to share in-group stuff with white people who are likely to then adopt and ruin it, as white people so often do with Black cultural stuff. Some links about this including a great Khadija Mbowe video. I'm saying this gently, anon, because you might not know: woke, an example you cited as Millennial™ speak, is AAVE, and that's gotten erased by so many white people appropriating it and using it incorrectly online.

And also there's the part where fandom is a hobby and you never know when you're reading a fic that's the very first thing someone's ever written outside of a school assignment. This cultural considerations of language shit takes a level of effort and skill that not everybody puts into every fic, or even could if they wanted to because they haven't had time to build their skills yet. It's definitely easier for non-Black fans to project our millennial feels onto Nile than to do the layers of research and self-reflection it requires to depict what Blackness might mean to Nile, and it's not surprising that often people sharing their hobby creations on the internet have gone the easier route. There's not even necessarily shame in doing what's easier. It's just frustrating and often hurtful when structural white supremacy means that 3-dimensional Black characters are rare in media and thoughtful explorations of them in fandom are seen by the majority of fans as not-easy to make and therefore Nile Freeman, the main character in The Old Guard (2020) dir. Gina Prince-Bythewood, has the least fic and meta and art made about her of our 5 main immortals.

I've been active in different fandoms off and on for twenty years and I barely managed to write 5,000 words about Sam Wilson across multiple different fics in the 7 years since I fell in love with him. There's an alchemy to which characters we connect with, and on top of that which characters we connect with in a way that causes us to create stuff about them. Something about Nile Freeman finally tipped me over the edge from a voracious reader to a voracious writer. It's not for me to judge which characters speak to other individuals to the level of creating content about them, but I do think it's important for us to notice, and then work to fight, the pattern where across this fandom as a whole Nile gets way less content, and way less depth in so much of the content that's in theory about her, than any of these other characters.

Anyway, back to language. My two long fics feature Nile with several Black friends — Copley and OCs and cameos from other media — but all of those characters except Alec Hardison from Leverage aren't American. It's very possible I'm guilty of stereotyping Black British speech patterns in I See Your Eyes Seek a Distant Shore. I watched hours and hours of Black haircare YouTube videos in the research for that fic and I modeled my OCs' speech patterns on what I heard from some of those YouTubers as well as what I've heard people like John Boyega and Idris Elba saying in interviews, but the thing about doing your best is you still might fuck up.

I'm slowly making progress on my WIP where Nile and Sam Wilson are cousins, and what ways of talking with a family member might be authentic for Nile is a major question I need to figure out. For that, I'm largely modeling my writing choices on how I hear my Black friends and colleagues talking to each other. I haven't overheard colleagues talking in an office in a long-ass time, but back when that was a thing, I remember seeing a ton of nuance in the different ways many of my Black colleagues would talk to each other. Different people have different personalities! And backgrounds! And priorities! A few jobs ago my department was about 1/3 Black and we worked closely with Obama administration staff many of whom were Black and there was SO MUCH VARIETY in how Black people talked to each other, about work and workplace-appropriate personal stuff, where I and other white coworkers could hear. There are a few work friends in particular who I have in my head when I'm trying to imagine how Sam and Nile might talk to each other. From the outside looking in, God DAMN is shit complicated, intellectually and interpersonally and spiritually, for Black people who are devoting their professional lives to public service in the United States.

One more aspect of this that I have big thoughts on but I need to take extra care in talking about is the idea of acknowledging Nile's Blackness in her patterns of speech. There's no one right way to be Black, and Nile's a fictional character created by a white dude but there are plenty of real-life Black Americans who don't use much or even any AAVE, for reasons that are complicated because of white supremacy. (Highly highly recommend this video by Shanspeare on the harms of the Oreo stereotype.)

Something that's not the same but has enough similarity that I think it's worth talking about is my personal experience with authenticity and American Jewish speech patterns. My Jewish family members don't talk like they're in The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, and I've known lots of people who do talk that way (or the millennial version of it), some of whom have questioned my Jewishness because I don't talk that way. That hurts me. Sometimes when another Jew tells me some shit like "I've never heard a Jew say y'all'd've," I can respond with "well now you have asshole, bless your Yankee-ass heart," because the myth of Dixie is a racist lie but I will totally call white Northerners Yankees when they're being shitty to me for being Southern, and this particular Jew fucking revels in using "bless your heart" with maximum polite aggression, especially with said Yankees. But sometimes I don't have it in me to say anything and it just quietly hurts having an important part of me disbelieved by someone who shares that important part of me. The sting isn't quite the same when non-Jews disbelieve or discount my Jewishness, but that hurts too.

Who counts as authentically Jewish is a messy in-group conversation and it doesn't really make sense to explain it all here. Who counts as authentically Jewish is a matter of legal status for immigration, citizenship, and civil rights in Israel, and it's my number 2 reason after horrific treatment of Palestinians that I'm antizionist. But outside that extremely high-stakes legal situation, it can just feel really shitty to not be recognized as One Of Us, especially by your own people.

It can also feel really shitty to be The Only One of Your Kind in a group, even if that group is an immortal chosen family who all loves each other dearly. Sometimes especially in a situation like that where you know those people love you but there are certain things they don't get about you and will never quite be able to. I'm definitely projecting at least a little bit of my "lonely Jew who will be alone again for yet another Jewish holiday" stuff onto Nile when at the end of I See Your Eyes Seek a Distant Shore she's thinking about being the only Black immortal and moving away from the community she'd built with a mostly-Black group of mortals in that fic. Maybe that tracks, or maybe that's fucked up of me.

Basically, this got very long but it's complicated, writing about experiences that aren't your own takes skill which in turn takes time and practice to build, writing about experiences not your own that our society maligns can cause a lot of harm if done badly, it can also cause a lot of harm when a large enough portion of a fandom just decides to nope out of something that's difficult and risky because then there's just not much content about a character who deserves just a shit ton of loving and nuanced content, people are individuals and two people who come from the exact same cultural context might show that influence in all kinds of different ways, identity is complicated, language is complicated, writing is hard, and empathy and humility and doing our best aren't a guarantee of avoiding harm but they do go a long way in helping people create thoughtful content about a character as awesome and powerful and kind and messy and scared and curious and WORTHY as Nile Freeman.

#nile freeman #linguistics #TOG POC Love Fest #nileweek2021 #tog meta #tog #long post #mine #antiblackness #jewish things #hi i'm an antizionist jew no i don't really want to talk about it

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holographicang3l · 3 years

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My hot take on the Evangelion 3.0+1.0 movie

-40 mins of shinji crying, trying to get over the trauma seeing Kaworus head explode and splatter across the window is relatable.

- Mari confused the fuck out of me. Her existence didn't make much sense but ok. Too much boob shots, too much fan service.

- Asukas story was good. Liked that she's also a Type series like Rei. Too much fanserves. They put a shit ton of detail on her naked body. I hated it.

- the Angel concept of Asuka was cool though it was predictable.

- So little of Ritsuko and Misato. Little to no personality.

- Kaji probably controlled Mark 6 to cut off Liliths head to stop the impact. (theory / headcanon / could have been kaworu as well but damn)

- hated that everyone was blaming shinji even tho he saved everyone at the same time. Ungreatful people, trying to blame a kid for ALLL the mess is pretty messed up.

- Kaworu and Asukas soul piloting Eva 13 lmao (I assume at least that's the case)

- I was laughing so ugly about the animation fo 3d Rei. Didn't give me the creeps, I was just making fun of it.

- some scenes are quiet awkwardly cut.

-I HATED the 3d fight between Eva 13 and Eva 1. It felt unfinished and unpolished.

- I did like the trueman show style of backdrop in the fight, where Eva 01 slammed through the scene wall.

- funny headless mannequin flying hand in hand 3d style. Looked ugly af but I can see the artistics in it.

- Weird but, the voice of Fuyutsuki sounded off, as if it was wrongly recorded. Maybe it was just me.

- "The key of Nebukadnezar ITS FULL CYCLE BOYS" urgh.

- Shinji putting the fucking dss choker on like the Chad he is.

- finally got in the fucking robot. What a huge Chad.

-crying kaworu was nice. Made him more human.

- didn't see it as if Shinji thinks Kaworu as his father figure, Idk how people can interpret that shit. They just come off as similar. Just because I see someone similar to a family member doesn't mean that I see them as a father or mother figure yall just interpret what you want to.

- Timeloop theory confirmed, we did it boys, depression is no more.

- it felt like a shit ton of things got cut off due to the awkward pacing, dialouge and some scenes.

- Ryo-chan I can't fucking-

- Commander Nagisa ✨ It was all an elaborate plan. Kaworu probably developed the Anti L- barrier thing or at least helped. (headcanon)

- Kaji was like father to me (probably kaworu somehow)

- melon farmer Kaworu confirmed

- Adult shinji, bantering with Mari.

-don't like the boob thing tho.

- hated the fan service. Loaded like a baked potato.

-Rei was fucking cute

- I would die for her.

- Fuck gendou

-I will not sympathies with a fucking egomaniac.

- dude fucked humanity bcs he couldn't accept the death of his wife.

- super obsessed.

-what a moron. I swear.

- Gendo hugging Shinji was cute tho.

- can't accept his apology tho, still asshole, can go rot in hell.

- All parents are assholes in Eva except Touji and Hikari.

-Tsubume and Rei fucking cute I swear.

- Kensuke is the ultimate winner, he looks handsome. Would fuck

- Rei and the farmer woman were cute, I want more content.

- End scene was stupid.

- the ending in general was good tho.

- felt bitter sweet but also satisfying.

- One LAST kiss slaps

- What if?: orchestra, piano slapped my soul into the Anti universe and now I'm sitting on the Golgatha object, ready to find Kaworu.

- I wanted them to be all happy.

-hopefully they are.

- Mari and Shinji probably endgame

- probably just friends tho, I mean come on.

-kawoshinners are crying.

- Kaworu going to super hell (predicted, it's all full cycle kids, go home)

MORE STUFF!!

- Maria Iskariot?! I mean what (yeah I know what the innuation is here but still)

- Asuka is a clone, guess Langley was the Original but died and the Shikinami series was deployed Idk, I'm not anno.

- Fucking technoblabble and pseudo-philosophy

- my brain melted trying to understand half of the bs that was spoken about

- I like Ryoji Kaji Jr. He's cute. I want 500 fanfics of him being a cute gardener and being best friends with kaworu (please im in pain help me)

- Parallels between Gendou and Ritsuko shooting at each other *chefs kiss*

- the detail in the scenery was just amazing.

- I'm a headless wandering Eva (no thoughts head empty)

- I missed the mass production Eva's (way cooler though I really liked the skull Eva's as well)

- give me a 14 years before prequel or give me death (probably gonna die before it comes out)

- I swear I was so sad when doppelganger Rei busted into Fanta, best development of Rei ngl

- I can not stop my anger with Gendou I swear.

-I don't care how he's written Gendo/ Gendou/Gendoh, all versions are assholes

- That L barrier thing in Asukas eye was the most painful thing to watch. Body gore Asuka as always.

- NEON GENESIS

- "I'll come and get you Shinji" SHUT UP

- The self insert story was funny tho ngl

- That hair flip was fabulous

- KaWoRu AnD rEi aRe StAnDinG in ClOsE pRoXiMiTy ThEy mUsT bE tOgEtHeR (what the fuck, can't people have normal friends from the other gender? )

- ShInJi aNd MaRi hElD hAnDs ThEy mUsT bE tOgEThEr (what the fuck, can't friends of the other gender hold hands? Does that mean I'm dating my best friend for holding his hand?! MAKE SENSE PEOPLE)

- UwU Asushin is Canon UwU (In the past maybe, was a huge cockblock from anno here, go cry in a corner and read your top rated evageek hentai manga of Asuka x Shinji Jesus christ (don't slaughter me) )

- God is dead after the stunt Gendou pulled and Kawoshin is (no) more (lmao no but yes but no, don't slaughter me)

- UNIT8 be like: "you're talking mad shit for someone being in consuming range" and proceeds to eat all the units (vore is strong in this one)

- Eva 13 and Eva 1 hugging (and penetrating) best shit I've seen

- Maris scream for Asuka was painful. It ripped my heart in pieces.

- Angel Unit2 was too short. I want more of that.

-That tiny Kaworu in the background while Angel Asuka absorbs Shikinami (I don't know fam, the movie is confusing)

- I read somewhere that Headless kaworu corpse playing the piano in the entry plug was cut off from the script and Im not sure if that is true but I would have LOVED TO SEE IT

- Eva 3.0+1.0 was annos huge middle finger to all of Evangelion and I love it.

- tells us to grow up and stop hyperfocusing at the characters proceeds to make them as sexual as possible lmfaooo

- That Lance of WILLE thing looks like something out of Darling in the FRANXX series and I laughed so hard.

- YUI Yui YUI YUI Yui Yui YUI

- there you are YUI?!

- Mom was in me (I want to die)

- Gonna use plot device shit to make a Lance out of a spine (damn shinji obtained a backbone to defeat his deadbeat father, I would have never seen this coming *irony*)

- Gotta defeat your dad with the power of friendship TALKING (like any human being does)

- Anno says byebye (proceeds to think of 14 years past prequel, it makes money so I guess)

- Anno says grow up, proceeds to slap the fans in the face that you should stop using escapism as a coping mechanism in a world that makes you feel miserable and being in constant pressure to uphold a stupid image and start to live even though you're forced to work as much as possible with makes living hard af (I dotn know if you understand what I was trying to tell with this but if you do *Finger guns*)

- Give me the uncut version in a year or I riot

Thanks.

#evangelion #Spoilers #evangelion 3.0+1.0 #SPOILERS

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