#not to be dramatic but i want a concept film like this is so good

[tearlessrain]

please help me- i used to be pretty smart but i’m having so much trouble grasping the concept of diegetic vs non-diegetic bdsm!

gfkjldghfd okay first of all I'm sorry for the confusion, if you're not finding anything on the phrase it's because I made it up and absolutely nobody but me ever uses it, but I haven't found a better way to express what I'm trying to say so I keep using it. but now you've given me an excuse to ramble on about some shit that is only relevant to me and my deeply inefficient way of talking and by god I'm going to take it.

SO. the way diegetic and non-diegetic are normally used is to talk about music and sound design in movies/tv shows. in case you aren't familiar with that concept, here's a rundown:

diegetic sound is sound that happens within the world of the movie/show and can be acknowledged by the characters, like a song playing on the stereo during a driving scene, or sung on stage in Phantom of the Opera. it's also most other sounds that happen in a movie, like the sounds of traffic in a city scene, or a thunderclap, or a marching band passing by. or one of the three stock horse sounds they use in every movie with a horse in it even though horses don't really vocalize much in real life, but that's beside the point, the horse is supposed to be actually making that noise within the movie's world and the characters can hear it whinnying.

non-diegetic sound is any sound that doesn't exist in the world of the movie/show and can't be perceived by the characters. this includes things like laugh tracks and most soundtrack music. when Duel of Fates plays in Star Wars during the lightsaber fight for dramatic effect, that's non-diegetic. it exists to the audience, but the characters don't know their fight is being backed by sick ass music and, sadly, can't hear it.

the lines can get blurry between the two, you've probably seen the film trope where the clearly non-diegetic music in the title sequence fades out to the same music, now diegetic and playing from the character's car stereo. and then there are things like Phantom of the Opera as mentioned above, where the soundtrack is also part of the plot, but Phantom of the Opera does also have segments of non-diegetic music: the Phantom probably does not have an entire orchestra and some guy with an electric guitar hiding down in his sewer just waiting for someone to break into song, but both of those show up in the songs they sing down there.

now, on to how I apply this to bdsm in fiction.

if I'm referring to diegetic bdsm what I mean is that the bdsm is acknowledged for what it is in-world. the characters themselves are roleplaying whatever scenarios their scenes involve and are operating with knowledge of real life rules/safety practices. if there's cnc depicted, it will be apparent at some point, usually right away, that both characters actually are fully consenting and it's all just a planned scene, and you'll often see on-screen negotiation and aftercare, and elements of the story may involve the kink community wherever the characters are. Love and Leashes is a great example of this, 50 Shades and Bonding are terrible examples of this, but they all feature characters that know they're doing bdsm and are intentional about it.

if I'm talking about non-diegetic bdsm, I'm referring to a story that portrays certain kinks without the direct acknowledgement that the characters are doing bdsm. this would be something like Captive Prince, or Phantom of the Opera again, or the vast majority of bodice ripper type stories where an innocent woman is kidnapped by a pirate king or something and totally doesn't want to be ravished but then it turns out he's so cool and sexy and good at ravishing that she decides she's into it and becomes his pirate consort or whatever it is that happens at the end of those books. the characters don't know they're playing out a cnc or D/s fantasy, and in-universe it's often straight up noncon or dubcon rather than cnc at all. the thing about entirely non-diegetic bdsm is that it's almost always Problematic™ in some way if you're not willing to meet the story where it's at, but as long as you're not judging it by the standards of diegetic bdsm, it's just providing the reader the same thing that a partner in a scene would: the illusion of whatever risk or taboo floats your boat, sometimes to extremes that can't be replicated in real life due to safety, practicality, physics, the law, vampires not being real, etc. it's consensual by default because it's already pretend; the characters are vehicles for the story and not actually people who can be hurt, and the reader chose to pick up the book and is aware that nothing in it is real, so it's all good.

this difference is where people tend to get hung up in the discourse, from what I've observed. which is why I started using this phrasing, because I think it's very crucial to be able to differentiate which one you're talking about if you try to have a conversation with someone about the portrayal of bdsm in media. it would also, frankly, be useful for tagging, because sometimes when you're in the mood for non-diegetic bodice ripper shit you'd call the police over in real life, it can get really annoying to read paragraphs of negotiation and check-ins that break the illusion of the scene and so on, and the opposite can be jarring too.

it's very possible to blur these together the same way Phantom of the Opera blurs its diegetic and non-diegetic music as well. this leaves you even more open to being misunderstood by people reading in bad faith, but it can also be really fun to play with. @not-poignant writes fantastic fanfic, novels, and original serials on ao3 that pull this off really well, if you're okay with some dark shit in your fiction I would highly recommend their work. some of it does get really fucking dark in places though, just like. be advised. read the tags and all that.

but yeah, spontaneous writer plug aside, that's what I mean.

#I found their original stuff while I was researching various waterhorses and their folklore for no reason #because one of the characters in their original work happens to be an each uisge #and then it turned out it ALSO included a lot of figures from welsh folklore in general #so yknow if you happen to have my incredibly specific hyperfixations you'll love it but even if you don't it's great #I didn't mean to bring up phantom of the opera so much it just happens to be very relevant to a lot of my talking points #I haven't actually seen it in years

[sad-drake-lyrics]

what my 65yo father has to say about antis:

let me preface this by saying, i literally wish i had what just happened on video to go viral on TikTok. i was shook by this conversation down to my bones; and if you could see my father - a loud old Italian man with dramatic hand gestures - say what he had to say, i think this shit would blow up. but as i was obviously not filming him while we were eating, i will have to relay to you the story with my words.

so i'm sitting eating dinner at the coffee table with my father while watching TV, as Americans often do instead of eating at the dinner table, and since the news was on he started telling me this story that had been recently mentioned on TV once again from maybe ten years ago (it was in 2014, you can read about it here) where these two 12-year-old girls killed one of their friends as a sacrifice to the Slender Man. yeah, real thing. fucked up.

and so my father told me about how they interviewed one of the killer's mothers, and when questioned about where her daughter's motive could've come from, she said something along the lines of: you know, when i was a kid, i was into Stephen King and horror - and so when my kid was into that kind of stuff, i didn’t think it was a big deal.

so, of course, my response was "yeah, being into that stuff isn’t a big deal at all - it's normal - but being a sociopath and murdering someone is not normal; it's fucked up. but there's nothing wrong with being into horror stories - they're just stories meant to entertain - it doesn't make you a murderer to enjoy Halloween - but it would if you put on a Michael Myers mask and went out and stabbed people." and, of course, like any sane person, my father agreed with me.

then, continuing this line of conversation, i started talking about the concept of how "fiction isn’t reality," and how a frightening amount of people don't understand that; and i literally started telling him about antis - people on the internet who attack and harass others over "problematic" or "inappropriate" fictional interests.

i used well-known pop culture examples like: if you're into Game of Thrones and like Jaime and Cersei together or wanted Jon and Daenerys to end up together (i didn't think he would process the term "shipping," but clearly by the end of this conversation i think i was wrong), that people (antis) will say things like "you should die," and that you "support inc*st in real life," and that "you're disgusting."

i also used the examples of "toxic relationships" in pop culture, like the Joker and Harley Quinn, or Kylo Ren and Rey, and how if you’re into those kinds of fictional relationships that people (antis) will say that you "support toxic relationships," and that you are "glorifying abuse," and that it all "must be what you really want and believe is right or good."

and my fucking 65-year-old father literally goes: "I don’t understand. It’s a TV show. Don't they know it’s fake?"

queue my jaw dropping to the fucking ground because i'm like. YES. THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT PRO-SHIPPERS ARE TRYING TO SAY AND THESE PEOPLE DON'T GET IT.

he was flabbergasted, my pals. the shock in his eyes was incredible to behold.

and, oh boy, that isn't even the best part, guys.

my father then says, "Don’t tell me it’s like that with anime too?"

and i said, "it's worse with anime."

and i fucking swear to you - no joke, on my life and baby Jesus' cradle - again my 65-year-old father looks at me and says, “It’s a fucken cartoon."

... ... ...

... i can't ...

i can't end this post better than that.

#anti anti #anti harassment #proship #proshipper #proshipping #pro ship #pro fiction #pro shipper #pro shipping #profic #comship #proship safe #comship safe #proship positivity #anti censorship #ship discourse #fiction is not reality #fiction is fiction #ship and let ship

[auras-moonstone]

i’m so happy to hear you’re taking jack requests!! there’s a serious drought of them on tumblr 😭

could we get jack x fem!reader with him sleeping over at her place for the first time (or vice versa)? nothing smutty ofc (only if you want to but i see this concept as more fluffy than anything lol). i just think he’d be so cute and shy and awkward 😭 like turning away so she can change, not knowing wether to sleep on the bed or the floor, doing skincare together, cuddling-

i need this man as my bf rn

thank u!!

hi!! this concept is so cute, thank you for requesting it! hope you enjoy it <3 and yeah, i need this man to be my bf too. he’s the definition of boyfriend material.

is it too soon? — jack champion

words: 1,380

pairing: jack champion x fem!reader

summary: y/n invites jack to her house for dinner and a sleepover. when sleeping time comes, the nerves take over his body.

Y/N AND JACK HAVE BEEN DATING FOR ALMOST THREE MONTHS. They met on the set of Scream 6, when Y/N was visiting her best friend, Devyn, and Jack is never going to forget the first words she said to him.

“Oh my god! You are the bicycle boy from Endgame” she had smiled at him, and Jack knew he was a goner. They had exchanged instagrams, and talked almost every single day—Devyn even joked about how Y/N texted him more than she texted her. They went on their first date almost a two weeks after they met, and it was on their third date—two weeks after the first one—when Y/N asked him to be her boyfriend.

Due to his long hours of filming and her being busy with college essays and exams, they couldn’t manage to spend so much time alone—only going on short dates every now and then, and lots of facetiming between shooting and study breaks. But now that the movie was done, they wanted to spend every moment together. For this occasion, Y/N had invited him over to her house for dinner and a sleep over.

They had just finished doing the dishes, he had her against the counter, hugging her tightly and placing sweet kisses on her lips, when an idea came to her mind “Wanna do skin care with me?” she asked giving him those puppy eyes he adored, and how could he say no? So he let her guide him to the bathroom.

“So, what do I have to do?” he asked eying all the products on the counter.

She grabbed two pink plush headbands with big bows in the middle and handed one to him. “Put this on, so your hair doesn’t touch the products” she instructed. He nodded and put it on, making her smile at the sight “You are the most adorable human I’ve ever seen”.

He blushed and kissed her cheek as she also put the headband on “Pretty girl”.

“Thank you, babe. Have you ever done skin care?”

“Nope”

“Really? Not even moisturiser or cleanser?” she asked shocked.

“Babe, I don’t know what you are saying” he laughed.

“I’m sorry, that’s unfair! I take care of my skin and it’s nowhere near as good as yours… and you don’t do skin care!” Y/N’s hands moves frenetically as she ranted on.

He looked at her with a lovey smile before leaning down to kiss her “Your skin is perfect and so are you”.

“Mmh stop distracting me” she said in between kisses. “Okay, less romance, more skin care”.

“It’s cold!” Jack said loudly as she applied serum on his face.

“Don’t be dramatic” she laughed. “Now spread it all over your face carefully”.

“This is relaxing” he said closing his eyes. “but you do this every day?”.

“Yup” she answered “Now the last part: the exfoliant!”.

“Holy shit my skin feels so soft” Jack said once they finished the routine.

“Let me check” she said before pressing kisses all over his face “Yeah, very soft”.

“Let me check yours in return” he said with a smirk, repeating the same action she did, making her giggle.

“This was fun, but I’m exhausted. Let’s go to sleep” she took his hand and guided him upstairs.

It was when he set foot on her bedroom that the nerves kicked in. He had been at her house, of course, but never slept over. Y/N had classes in the morning, and he had to go to the set, so they preferred to sleep in their own houses.

He stood there, looking at the bed. Was he supposed to sleep there or should he sleep on the floor? Should he ask her? Would she think he was crossing the line by even thinking they were to sleep on the same bed?

“Jack? Are you okay?” she asked, she had a pair of joggers in her hands.

“Y-yeah” he showed her his best smile.

“Okay… here you go. You lent me this a couple of days ago”

“Thanks” he grabbed them awkwardly.

“I have to change into my pjs, do you mind if I change here?” Y/N asked. She had a bathroom, but honestly she felt too lazy to go downstairs.

“H-here?” Jack asked, his cheeks painted a crimson red.

Y/N mentally cursed herself “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable… I can go downstairs, it’s okay”.

“No, no! I’ll just turn around and you tell me when you’re done” he answered. “I’ll change into my joggers” She nodded, and he turned to face the door as they both changed “Done”.

After a few seconds her voice was heard “Me too” he turned around to face her, and his thoughts went to the bed and where he was going to sleep.

“Do you have some extra blankets or a sleeping bag?” he asked.

Y/N furrowed her brows, and then her face fell. Were they going too fast? Y/N never thought sleeping over would be such a big deal, but guess she was wrong. Was he uncomfortable around her? Did he think she was implying they should do more than sleeping? Because maybe he read the whole thing wrong and that’s why he was acting weird. “Yeah, in my closet”.

Jack felt bad, he noticed instantly because of her expression that he had hurt her a bit. So, before she could enter the closet, he grabbed her hand softly “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you”.

“It’s okay, Jack. I’m overreacting, it’s totally fine if you don’t want to sleep in the same bed yet. I just wanted you to know that I wasn’t saying that we should do more than sleeping. Sorry if I made it seem like that, you know, with the whole changing in front of you and the sleeping on the same bed thing”.

“What? No! That’s not what you made me think at all. Of course I don’t mind sleeping next to you. It’s just… you are my first girlfriend and I lo-“ he stopped himself. Did he almost let the l-word slip? “and I started overthinking, that maybe you wouldn’t be comfortable with me sleeping on your bed, that I was overstepping and I don’t want to ruin anything, especially with you”.

Y/N sighed in relief “Okay. That’s a relief. You are my first boyfriend too, so don’t feel bad for overthinking. I do that a lot too, to be completely honest”.

Jack smiled at her, and put his arms around the back of her neck, making her look up at him with those long eyelashes and hypnotising eyes he loved so much “Now that everything is solved, let’s go to sleep”.

The couple got inside the bed, he quickly pulled her to his chest. Y/N closed her eyes and relaxed, between his heartbeats resonating in her ears and the warmth that his body provided, she almost fell asleep. Until she remembered. She had noticed when he almost said the word, and how quickly he corrected himself. She was not going to let that sign pass, so she took the matters into her own hands.

“Jack?” she said against his chest, checking if he was sleeping.

“Yes, babe?” he asked in a delicate voice.

“I want to tell you something” she said looking up. He nodded, signalling her to continue “I… maybe it’s too soon to say it, but every moment I spend with you just fuels the feeling more and more, to the point that I can barely stop myself from saying it. It’s okay if you aren’t ready yet, but I want you to know that I love you, Jack”.

Silence embraced the room. It took Jack a few, way too long, seconds to realize it wasn’t some trick made by his imagination. The girl he loved just told him she loved him too. And he was just staring at her, but she wasn’t panicking. That’s because she recognized the glint in his eyes—Y/N understood he wasn’t shocked in a bad way, in fact, it was quite the opposite. It was at that moment that she knew he was in love too.

“I love you too, Y/N/N” he finally said. His face reflected nothing but happiness. And their confession was sealed with a passionate kiss that showcased everything they once were too scared to say.

#jack champion #jack champion x y/n #jack champion fluff #jack champion imagine #jack champion oneshot #jack champion x reader #ethan landry #scream iv #scream #fluff #fanfic

[ladysomething]

not really unique but maybe some kind of actors/movie star au where max and charles are the two it boys of hollywood and therefore have always been pitted against each other as rivals. however, they’re casted together in a movie with an esteemed director that neither want to refuse. then they fall in love woopty doo !!

firstly it's not your job to make the concept unique! that's on me baby! so don't stress about it, and I love this idea!!

also... this one got so long haha

ok so to keep the past tension, for sure they were on like. a Disney channel show together growing up. pit against each other like Zendaya and Bella Thorne.

they were playing best friends and had amazing chemistry, but secretly couldn't stand each other. Max is definitely a repo baby, whereas Charles is so pretty he gets a lot of opportunities. they both resent each other because of it: Charles thinks Max gets everything because of his dad, whereas Max thinks Charles get everything because he's pretty.

eventually they have a big fight on set, and the show gets shut down because of it. maybe they get physical - maybe they just refuse to work with each other anymore

Max is the first one to rebuild his image - he works and works on as many movies as he can, trying to only be in Serious Dramas so people know he's a Real Actor

whereas Charles kind of disappears from acting for a while and instead turns to modelling

cut forward, they're both very successful in their fields. Max already has an Oscar, whereas Charles is getting brand deal after brand deal

and then, like, Scorsese or Greta Gerwig or somebody incredible goes to Charles and pitches a movie to him

some kind of really angsty, dramatic, gay love story set on the Italian coastline (heh heh, just because I think I'm funny, let's make the movie be based on Give Me That Fire lmao) (even though that was set in London) (lets make it GMTF but set in a restaurant on the Italian coastline lol)

anyway so Charles turns them down at first and says he doesn't act anymore, but Greta Gerwig is like, "No, I want you in this part, and you can have first pick of your co-star."

So Charles, "I want Max."

Max is tentative at first, doesn't want to work with Charles, but Gerwig says that Charles picked him and so Max ends up agreeing

it's super awkward between them at first, so they end up having to do some bonding exercises to try and ease the tension, and while they do it they apologise to each other for their behaviour as kids and congratulate each other on their successes

filming is much smoother from there, and Charles and Max end up admiring each other's skill

Charles appreciates how hard Max works, and how much more he achieved that his than his father, while Max is impressed with how good Charles still is even though he hasn't acted in years

they end up kind of being like ... "Hey, you're not too bad?" and spending a lot of time together outside of filming

maybe Charles spends a couple nights in Max's hotel room

they film that really intimate sex scene from GMTF and afterwards they're both so emotionally spent but also a little turned on from the tension and the kissing, even though its a Film Set and they're not actually that sexy to film

Max absolutely falls in love first - he realises what he's feeling for Charles, and pines hopelessly from a distance

meanwhile Charles is terrified of being Known and Knowing Somebody, and he can't let himself fall in love

but Max is so sweet and charming and the more time they spend together they more he realises just how wrong he's always been about Max

anyway, by the end of filming they're both hopelessly in love but neither have admitted it

they part ways, Charles going back to modelling, Max moving on to his next movie, and then they're reunited for the press tour

they end up confessing their feelings during the tour and having an intense affair, but at the end of it they decide to go their seperate ways because of how busy they both are ... though obviously neither of them actually want to seperate. they just think the other person does.

anyway the movie comes out and everybody loves it, they praise their acting and the range of emotions Charles showed and how well Max embodied this lonely chef and the chemistry the two of them had and how well it told the story of these people who had been in love and who's relationship had fallen apart, but then who had wanted to try again anyway despite it (yeah obvi it's a metaphor for Charles and Max's relationship in this universe too haha)

it ends up getting nominated for a bunch of Oscars, and Max gets nommed for best actor and Charles for best supporting actor

idk if Max wins but Charles definitely does

and at the after party they find each other and it's just inevitable, really, that they'd kiss again

anyway from there they'd basically just make it work, because they admit they're in love and want to give it a go, so they do

Max keeps acting, and Charles gets to choose between modelling and acting, whatever he wants. idk exactly how it would end aside from them being very happy!

#anon ask #lestappen fic #lestappen #lestappen fit idea

[wedontdeservethestars]

Johnny x fem! Clown reader

This is such a cute prompt idea! I've been doodling clowns a lot lately in class so this is strangely relevant to my life rn lol.

Content: fem!reader, really just a lot of fluff!

“I was thinking,” Johnny began. 

“That’s never good.” 

A roll of the eyes, a nudge of your shoulder. “C’mon. This one’s good.”

“Fine. I guess I can humor you for once…”

Johnny stuck his tongue out at you. He swirled his drink in his glass–a White Russian. “The execs are thinking of a soft reboot for Ninja Mime. And, well, y’know…I know you’re not big on film work, but I was thinkin’a bringing up the idea of a team-up sorta thing. Like, you know: me as Ninja Mime, and you as your cute little self. We could call it…” He raised his hands for dramatic effect, as if imagining a title all up in lights. “Fool Fighters.”

“Like ‘Foo Fighters’?” you giggled. “That might have some copyright issues.”

“Nahhh, I could pull some strings,” he smirked. “Okay, okay, imagine: it’s been years since the defeat of Dr. Commedia. Things have been quiet for Ninja Mime. He’s been relaxing in his penthouse in Paris, drinking wine and eating bread and kissin’ babes and whatever. And then, one day, he gets a cry for help from another fellow clown cutie–that’s you–and he falls head-over-heels in love with her. Dr. Commedia’s son, Art, is taking up his work, and is determined to spread his anti-laughing gas prototype all over the city, turning each and every citizen into a boring zombie of frowns! The clown girl found all this out because she’s Art’s sister and Commedia’s second child, but she wants to spread joy and laughter, so she takes her insider knowledge to Ninja Mime! And then it’s a Romeo and Juliet kind of thing between them, she wants to kiss, he wants to punch, neither of them can be together, and then at the end after Art is defeated, they finally share a gorgeous kiss in front of a sunset. Or, like, and explosion. Maybe both!”

“Oh, wow.” For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. You were impressed with his depth of detail on the concept, but at the same time… “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am.” Johnny smiled. “It’ll be badass! Plus, it could put you into the spotlight. Give your career a push into the mainstream.” 

“I guess so.” You nodded and smiled, but your eyes betrayed how conflicted you felt.

“You’d be getting calls left and right!” Johnny chuckled, until he realized that you seemed torn. His smile fell into tight lips. “But…you don’t want that…?”

You sighed and leaned back on the couch. Dating Johnny was wonderful, but it was also a little strange for you. It was like a looking glass into what another realm of entertainment life was like. Actors got so much recognition and stardom (mostly rightfully so!), and other performers like dancers and singers were typically hailed similarly. But, as a clown, you were different. You were a performer, yes, and and actor too, but it was character work. Very specific character work. Between shows and occasional circus acts and private events, you were more disconnected from your work life than, say, Johnny was, who would get recognized just walking outside to get the mail. Hardly anyone recognized your clown character, and even less than that were you recognized beyond someone realizing they’d seen you in a commercial once from a side-gig you’d done. 

You kind of liked it. Clowning wasn’t about fame for you. It was about audience reactions. It was meant to bring joy and laughter and humility and even sometimes sadness to humanity. Clowning was a mirror. It was about laughing at yourself, a strange funhouse reflection of day-to-day life, and you loved it. You loved seeing people smile at your antics and connecting with them through your persona. You didn’t need the fame as long as you had that.

And while Johnny’s idea sounded fun, that fame made you hesitate. You didn’t want to be recognized just from a Ninja Mime reboot. That felt too unreal to you. That wasn’t clowning. It was acting in clown makeup. It felt strangely sacrilege.

“I think…I’d feel better about it if it wasn’t her,” you said slowly, referring to your clown-self.

“Really?” Johnny seemed confused. “I mean…yeah. Yeah, we could make you a new character if you wanted.”

“Yes,” you nodded. Johnny was still looking at you strangely.

“You don’t have to be in it, if you don’t want. I just thought it’d be fun. I don’t know.” He gave a flippant wave of his hand. “It’s—y’know what, never mind. It’s kinda stupid.”

“Hey, c’mon.” You pulled his large hand into yours. “I didn’t say any of that.”

“It’s okay,” he said again. Clearly, it wasn’t, but he was trying to put up a front. “I’m not gonna make you be in a movie against your will. That’s, like, cruel and unusual punishment or whatever.”

“I do,” you assured him. “I would love nothing more. It’s just that clowning is…it’s far different from acting. Same ocean, different island. I don’t think I would translate well onto the big screen.”

“Right,” he nodded. “So—“

“So,” you interrupted gently, “we do what you said. Make me a new character. She can still be a clown. Just not my clown.”

“Okay…” Slowly, that creative spark was coming back into his eyes. “Maybe she can be good at ranged weapons? Since Ninja Mime is mostly killer with the melee stuff.”

“Yeah!” You grinned. “She can have, like, little bombs shaped like juggling balls.”

“Oh, yeah! And maybe, like, a little flower on her top that sprays acid!”

You giggled at the thought, nodding along. “Fun! I like it.”

“And I was thinking—for costumes—we could do a cool contrast thingy, since Ninja Mime is all black and white and red, maybe you could have a rainbow motif or something. Or—no—cotton candy colors! You look really good in pinks and blues.”

“Aw, thanks.” You kissed his cheek. “But I think you’d say that no matter what the design team comes up with.”

“What can I say? You’re a cutie when you’re all dolled up in those ruffles and makeup.” He pinched your nose playfully. “Oh, and that round little nose.”

You giggled and batted his hands away. “Y’know, you don’t look so bad as a mime yourself. Always thought it gave you a sophisticated touch.”

“Oh, well, if the Cagester’s anything, it’s sophisticated,” he beamed proudly, kicking his feet up on the ottoman in front of the couch. 

“Uh-huh.” You decided to let him have that one. “Sooo…when exactly is Fool Fighters going into development?”

“See? Told you the name would grow on you!”

#wedontdeservethefics #asks #sweetnsaltyclussy #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #mortal kombat #mk

[cipheramnesia]

hello i am giving u an excuse to talk about the chucky TV series because i generally don't like horror but i watched it and it was great

My friend... this goes so much deeper than the TV series.

DATELINE 1988! The horror movie slasher genre is THRIVING in the boom of video and cheap rental stores. Jason. Freddy. Michael. Already household names, nay! Heroes! Enter one Don Mancini, young and queer and ready to share some fear with a little idea knocking around in his head about a killer doll. With little more than a dream and few friends he tackled the enormous task of crafting the next horror legend. On the advice of a lawyer friend, he loaded Chucky up with distinct, trademarked features and made sure copyright on the titular killer doll was his and HIS ALONE.

Child's Play, the original Chucky movie, debuted to instant classic status. To modern eyes it may seem strange that a concept as silly as a killer doll could ascend to the heights of the holy triumvirate, but SIMULTANEOUS to Chucky we found such properties as Cabbage Patch Kids and My Buddy dolls - a virtual BUFFET of saccharine toys just begging for a counterpart with edge, and Chucky edged hard. The My Buddy doll never recovered as millions of children globally cowered from the mere TRAILER of Chucky and his slimeball snarl voice broadcast it's way to hearts and minds. But this wasn't all, no, for you see Chucky had a most peculiar gift, the gift of a soulful heart.

While many other slasher movies focused on a test of wills between survivor girl and unstoppable monster, Child's Play was first and foremost the coming of age story for Andy Barclay and his, Karen. In particular credit must be given to actor Catherine Hicks who never wanted to be in a horror movie, and made the conscious decision to play Karen as a straight dramatic role about a single mother and her son. In a sea of peculiarly good choices, it perhaps was hers more than any other that granted Child's Play a quasi-Spielberg-esque movie magic to transcend the genre stereotypes and absurd premise, to create something unique.

While she would not return for Child's Play 2, the die was cast with Alex Vincent as Andy and Brad Dourif as Chucky. We saw the introduction of street smart older stepsister played by Christine Elise. With a bigger budget, nastier deaths, and a truly grotesque version of Chucky, Child's Play 2 is likely considered the best in the series, as it predates the series' later campiness and had the delightfully rubbery 80s practical effects. Not me though, I love them all except of course Child's Play 3, the military academy one, which rounds out the first arc of Chucky. For a little while.

In 1998, just in time for a ten year anniversary, Chucky would RISE AGAIN, in Bride of Chucky. You see, while Don Mancini no longer had the rights to the Child's Play name, he still owned Chucky. Would this new chapter in the knife wielding minimaniac mean the previous continuity was dispensed with? NO, for this series was and still is violent killer baby of ONE MAN and his found film family. Instead, Bride of Chucky would introduce a new member of the family, Tiffany Valentine, played by the inimitable Jennifer Tilly. In this chapter of Chucky's tale, he and Tiffany took center stage, with no consistent protagonist, and a greater focus on absurd humor. Bride of Chucky and Seed of Chucky are both movies which give the sense of perhaps Mancini himself being more comfortable with his sexuality, more open and free. It was also the turning point where Chucky would go from a by the numbers slasher to a metatexual interrogation of the horror genre itself.

Besides playing with self referential comedy and genre references, Don Mancini introduced an in-universe awareness of Chucky's prior crimes, both as a human and as a doll, including the set of an in-universe movie (Chucky Goes Psycho) starring actress Jennifer Tilly. Hang onto your butts, because we're going in hot. If Bride of Chucky felt like it was going to weird places by having two dolls fucking and working on their romantic matters, Seed of Chucky abandoned all pretense, enjoying the presence of stuntcasting like John Waters and Redman (as himself) in roles specifically for gruesome deaths. But Jennifer Tilly was the central meta tornado.

Try and follow this. Real actress Jennifer Tilly plays Tiffany Valentine, who gets her soul transferred into a doll which is also voiced by Jennifer Tilly. Subsequently Jennifer Tilly also plays fictional actress Jennifer Tilly (who is otherwise identical to real world Jennifer Tilly), cast to play Tiffany Valentine in fictional fictionalized account of the fictional world real events of Child's Play 1 & 2, and also to voice the fictional Tiffany Valentine doll along with fictional Brad Dourif voicing the fictional Chucky doll, both dolls created for the fictional movie Chucky gets lucky. However, the fictional dolls get possessed by the real fictional characters Chucky and Tiffany, still voiced by real actors Brad Dourif and Jennifer Tilly. Eventually, Tiffany is able to transfer her soul into fictional Jennifer Tilly.

So, hang with me, in Chucky this means that fictional actress Jennifer Tilly (played by real Jennifer Tilly) is now possessed by fictional real murderer Tiffany Valentine (played by real Jennifer Tilly) who has to pretend to be fictional actress Jennifer Tilly (as played by Jennifer Tilly).

Beyond all this fuckery, Chucky and Tiff must cope with their new child who vacillates between Glen or Glenda, a kind of bigender or genderfluid character at a time when those ideas weren't very widespread, but which feels deeply informed both my Mancini's experience as a gay man, and also the long history of queers in Hollywood. At the conclusion of these two movies, it seemed like we were done with Chucky, with Tiffany living happily ever after as Tillyception and Glen/Glenda now living as two children, having their soul split into the twins fictional Tilly was pregnant with.

However, it seems that these five movies total instead were a kind of foundation for the next generation, when Chucky returned in Curse of Chucky and Cult of Chucky. Together these movies added a new layer of recursion, and might be called the Nica Pierce chapter. Both films featured less camp, and a more serious tone which, initially seemed to imply an intent to reboot the series. This was, of course, a fake out as Mancini not only revealed the new movies as a direct continuation, but also gave Chucky an illegitimate human daughter in the form of Nica Pierce, played by Fiona Dourif, the real world daughter of Brad Dourif. Not only that, but we would get the reintroduction of a long absent character, Andy Barclay, still played by Alex Vincent.

In the reprisal, Alex Vincent, an actor who was damaged and traumatized by being a child actor in movies like the original Child's Play, plays Andy as an adult damaged and traumatized by his experiences as a child in the original Child's Play.

Now, eventually Chucky gets control of Nica and Fiona Dourif does drag to play young Chucky and there's fucked up lesbians and gay kissing and a priest explodes, but all that happens in the TV series. What I'm really needing everyone to get at here is that from 1988 up to RIGHT NOW Don Mancini has kept continuity of plot AND ACTORS, with two seasons and an upcoming third which incorporates every single movie detail. A series which, while silly at times, always both respects its audience second, but FIRST is itself above all. Every single movie and episode has been something which set out to be its own thing, free from control or demands of conformity and it always has been, like it or not, love it or leave it. Somehow the killer doll movie has turned into a 35 year long and counting love affair, a found extended nuclear family both on screen and off.

And perhaps the best part is how much the queerness has been given a chance to flourish, going from a whisper of an influence in early films, to campy comedy later, to fully realized queer relationships in the series. Not only that, but it's always seemed to treat its atypical protagonists with a humanity and respect few other media properties manage. The young Andy works so well because he's an actual character, not just some kid, treated like a capable and thinking human. Tiff and Glen/Glenda are bizarre but never dehumanized, never treated as undeserving of human kindness. And Nica, a paraplegic, is amazing, with her disabilities informing the plot, but not innately treated as some definitive limit or inspiration porn. It's rare for so many disenfranchised characters to get such a human treatment, and frankly bizarre that the murder doll series is the one to do it. But that's kind of the real beauty of Chucky. Every character is human first, before anything else.

In fact, there is only one character who is genuinely human second, and it's Chucky himself. Now I'm not saying there's no room for complex antagonists, but in all Chucy movies, the one constant is this: Chucky is a total dick. Not evil, not a menace, just a pure all out asshole. Chucky is a piece of shit person first, murderer second, and that's GREAT. You will never be in a position where you hope the evil murder doll succeeds (Tiff excepted). You will never stop and wonder "Gosh maybe Chucky is secretly a good guy deep down." Chucky is always a gaslighting selfish prick who wants to live for ever and kill everyone, full stop. It's beautiful, it frees the mind to dwell on the humanity of other characters because you never once are getting asked to give the lying cheating manipulative little fucker the benefit of the doubt.

I don't know what it is, but Mancini just gets it. He gets the best and the worst of people and that's what makes this whole machine tick. It's huge and overwhelming to think of how many people and plotlines and stories are encompassed by Chucky and then like a falling air-conditioner it just slams into my head: "Oh yeah, this is about a killer doll."

#childs play #chucky #horror movies #queer horror #long post

[lazytitans-world]

My research findings on the production of Wish

Never have I seen a fan community do so much with so little than I have with Wish. And to start off, I want to say that you should watch the movie first before going into this and the Starboy fandom as I believe it to be important on forming your own opinion before moving on as I find most of the fandom to have a negative view of the movie, one I do not really share. I found Wish to be fine. I did not hate it, but I did not love it like I do other Disney animated films. But the many rewrites, drawings and animatics featuring character designs that did not make it far in production have become icons in this community inspired me to do a deep dive to see if I could find where in production these concepts died and why.

To save you a read, this production was a victim of simplicity. I feel that many concepts and story ideas were tossed away due to complicating the story, which was always going to focus on Asha trying to save the wishes of her fellow kingdom citizens with the help of a wishing star. I have read many articles and watched a few deleted scenes from the home release and here are my findings.

Starboy never got far in development as the book states that the team went down "a few blind alleys" that lead them to star having a human design for a period. This is probably the period in time where all the Starboy concept art came from and where a potential romantic subplot with Asha was kicked around. It was.

What did Starboy in was the team's choice to make them a shapeshifter as the team thought the character was way overpowered and thus the story lost a lot of dramatic tension (a choice I kind of agree with). It was here where the design team decided that Star needed an overhaul and brought the Story Development artists in and this is where Starboy died and plush Star was finalized.

There are no official storyboards that feature the Starboy designs.

At the start of Wish's production, Frozen 2 was entering it's final stage of production (this would be either late 2018 or early 2019) and was obviously the main focus for Disney animation not to mention projects like Raya and the Last Dragon, Strange World and Encanto were entering their mid development stages before the shutdown.

The effects of the global shutdown were not mentioned in the book, but I would not be shocked if production was affected by it.

Ariana DeBose has said that Wish did not need a love story as she said that,

“I think we live in a time where things are cyclical, right? And so, it’s good for variance and perspective. Not every female Disney character needs to have a go and ambition of simply finding a man to love her. There are more stories to tell.

"And especially in the world we live in today I think something like Wish, that has a broader outlook that talks about community, is just as important as talking about love. And there are so many different ways to love."

"You do see familiar love, love of friendship" in the movie, including the relationship between Asha and Star. Star and Asha have this beautiful connection with each other and so I think it’s good reminding people that not only we can tell different stories, we can also talk about love in different ways.”(source: Exclusive: Wish’s Ariana DeBose defends lack of romance in recent Disney movies (yahoo.com)) whether Ariana had any say on story or character development is unknown.

7. From what I read from the Art of Wish book, the story was always meant to be about Asha defying Magnifico to fight for the people of Rosas and their wishes.

8. As it pertains to "At All Costs", a song that many are saying was meant to be a love song between Asha and Star, in an article by Variety(Julia Michaels Wrote 'Wish' Theme Before the Script Even Existed (variety.com), it states that a love song was not in the film at the time of production and songwriter Julia Michaels "wanted to write a song that as a standalone sounded like a love song that could be played at weddings."

Michaels would go on to say, "How cool would it be if we wrote a song that if you listened to on its own, it sounds like a love song, it could be something you could play at your wedding, or be a lullaby to your kids, just something really beautiful, but when you watch the film, it’s the heroine and it’s the villain.” She continues, “You realize they’re coming about this both from various points, one from a very selfless standpoint and one from a selfish standpoint.”

9. In the same Variety article, it was revealed that for some time in 2020, no script existed for the movie, but Julia Michaels was asked to be the songwriter for the movie and that is where she pitched "This Wish" which would go on to be one of the first songs revealed for the movie.

10. the Variety article also had Jennifer Lee, head of Disney Animation and one of the writers on Wish, say that she wanted a song that showed "it felt like to hold someone’s wish in your hand. How do we viscerally understand that when you’re with them, you feel like you’re holding someone’s raison d’être?” that song would end it being "At All Costs"

11. September 9, 2022, D23 Expo in Anaheim California. This is where certain members of the public got a glimpse of the production of Wish. Jennifer Lee, writer and director Chris Buck, and co-director Fawn Veerasunthorn spoke about the movie and showed the first look of the finalized design of Star which ended up being the mute plush model that ended up in the movie. This means there was a 3-year gap where Starboy and the romance side plot were discussed then shelved.

It was also during this show where the public would learn that Ariana DeBuse would voice Asha and that Alan Tudyk, a staple of past Disney animated films, would have a featured role in the movie as Asha's pet goat Valentino, who would be able to talk thanks to Star's magic. It was also at that show where DuBose came out to sing "This Wish" but at the time the song was called "More for Us".

Magnifico was not revealed at the event but was teased as "one of the most formidable foes in Disney history" which is debatable to say the least.

12. 5 deleted scenes in total appear on the Wish digital and disc copies each introduced by head of story Mark Kennedy where he would describe why the scene got cut. One scene shows Amaya assisting Magnifico in his plan, tying into an early concept where she was a villain alongside him.

Another scene had Asha, Star (who in this scene could shape shift and talk) and Valentino try to sneak into Rosas before being spotted and chased by Amaya, once again acting antagonistic to Asha.

A scene had Magnifco gather the people of Rosas to demand Star be given to him, as he had never seen Star in this version, and Asha her friends try to distract him by having Valentino, who in this version had a more Steve Carell like voice, pretend to be Star while the real Star, who was voiced in this version and was designed as ball of light with eyes and mouth, was trying to free the captured wishes. This scene was changed because they wanted Magnifco to be more threatening and instead of asking the people for Star, he would capture Star. Kennedy would go on to say that they wanted Asha and Magnifico to be smart and that Asha would not do a plan that silly, and they wanted the climax to be Magnifico and Asha alone, so they set it on a platform high above Rosas.

The next scene featured an ally of Asha's named Flazino that was cut out in order to shrink her friend group and tied the group back to the seven dwarfs from Snow White.

Finally, there was a scene where Asha and her grandfather scaled a wishing tree with her grandfather Sabino that showcased their bond but also Sabino's insistence that Asha take down Magnifico.

Each of these scenes felt completely different to the movie that ended up being released.

13. It should be noted that Wish released only a short while after the 2023 Writers and Actors strikes, which meant that for most of the summer and fall of that year, the actors could not do any press for the movie and all marketing was done through ads, trailers and merchandise.

14. As revealed in an article for Disney twenty-three, a magazine for gold members of the Disney D23 Fanclub, in the early visual development stage, there was a test scene that Asha was briefly transported to the village from Pinocchio. This was done to see how the 3D character designs would match with the hand drawn, watercolor backgrounds of classic Disney movies.

15. In that same article, Chris Buck said that in regard to Magnifico's character development that they wanted the audience "to see the evolution of a villain, so he's not a monster from frame one". From what becomes of Magnifico I get what they tried to do, they wanted to show how a character falls into villainy even if they're intentions are good. It also stands with the modern writing style of Disney animation films trying to update classics, this time by having audiences start off by kind of liking the villain through their personality alone.

18. The article also briefly mentions that Star "went through many iterations" another hint of Starboy being considered as a final design.

19. In the Art of Wish book, there is a page that shows the script where Asha meets Star and Star is described as a "cuddly, 3D, five-pointed star." This would indicate that the Starboy concept never got to the scripting stages.

20. In Art of Wish, the reason why Star does not speak is because the film makers wanted to stick to a tenet of film making, show don't tell.

21. Star's face was inspired by the mask like face of early Mickey Mouse cartoons.

22. From all readings, it is safe to say that Asha was NEVER considered to be a princess in any of the iterations of the story as some writers felt it to be too safe of a choice and liked the idea of an ordinary citizen going against the established power of the king.

23. During production, the Disney CEO position changed twice as Bob Iger left the company in early 2020 and named Bob Chapek as his replacement before returning to the company in mid 2023. It is unknown if these changes had any effects of Wish's production as it was it stated development as Iger's first tenure was ending but took place during a majority of Chapek's time.

24. When Angelique Cabal, who voiced Amaya in Wish, first auditioned for the role the character in 2022 Amaya was written as a villain while Magnifico was supposed to be the good king. It was when she returned for the callback that Amaya was changed to what she ended up being in the movie. Source https://www.cinemablend.com/interviews/how-one-character-disney-wish-completely-changed-during-production

In closing, for fans of the Starboy concept, it saddens me to say that it looks the idea only made it as far as concept art as at the time of writing this, no animated sequences, scripts or storyboards have been released that had Star in a human design or discussed a romantic relationship with Asha. I believe the writing team found a romantic relationship between Star and Asha too complicated for the story and decided to simplify the relationship and design of Star to better suit the plot of Asha going against Magnifico. I am disappointed Wish did not go with the more interesting concepts but maybe down the line we'll get that cosmic Disney romance and a villain couple, it just has to work with the story.

I want to say thank you for those that made it to the end, this movie has been on my mind for quite a while and seeing all the re-writes, drawings and animations people have done for Starboy and Asha has been amazing to see. These works have inspired me to rewatch Wish at some point to see if Starboy could have worked in the movie with the story as is, and even share how I would have changed a few things in the story to fit the character and a romantic subplot with Asha plus an idea on how to bring in Starboy while still staying true to the established cannon.

I do hope others watch and enjoy Wish as from what I have read the team did put a lot of effort to makes this movie worthy of not only the high standards Disney animation has set, but as a piece of the 100-year story telling of the Walt Disney company. Film making is already hard enough as it is, especially in animation, but having to make a movie with an original concept and characters that still pays tribute to 100 years of storytelling is a daunting task and I understand and respect the choices they made when making the film and you should as well.

#disney #disney wish #asha x star #starboy #wish reimagined #wish rewrite #wish 2023 #wish #disney star

[linkemon]

Boysband AU headcanons (4ggravate) 2

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here.

For those unfamiliar with the concept, 4ggravate is the Sumeru guys who started a boyband. It comes from the same series as the widely known in the fandom 4nemo.

Working with idol groups involves trends changing like in a kaleidoscope. When 4ggravate entered the scene, it quickly became clear that they would conquer the world. Your label, after the huge success of 4nemo, decided to take another boys under their wing. You didn't know then how much work you would have to put into promoting them on the market...

Kaveh

✧ The most expressive member of the group. You'd even say it makes up for everyone else in this regard.

✧ Always there if you need to record additional video or behind-the-scenes content. This is what his fans see most often and he is the most into social media.

✧ It also has its downsides. Kaveh can be dramatic to the point where it's annoying. If he feels like it, he will walk out of the meeting with the film crew, complaining and slamming the door. Unfortunately, it will often be up to you to bring him back to finish the ad.

✧ He and Alhaitham are constantly arguing, which was a shock to you because they've known each other the longest out of the team. You usually try not to take sides or take turns so that neither of the two will take offense at you.

✧ Kaveh will dance, play, sing... He will fill any role if need be and he will be good at it. However, he feels the best while playing instruments.

✧ He studied architecture and constantly reminds that he knows art. However, this is not idle talk. He happens to come up with brilliant ideas about clothes or scenery while shooting music videos.

✧ Drinks secretly outside the studio. He almost got busted once when someone from the management decided to come to the apartment to hand over the documents but you just arrived before them and managed to put the can in your purse at the last minute.

✧ He wanted to thank you somehow and gave you the keychain. He once bought some handmade ones. He gives them only to exceptional people in his opinion.

Cyno

✧ He as an innate sense of justice. You can be sure that if anyone sees someone hurt, it will definitely be Cyno. He never stands aside. He immediately confronts who he needs to, which often put his career on the line. He would probably be willing to sacrifice it for the greater good. For example, he points it out to the older employees if they use younger ones on the set. He does it even at the cost of unpleasantness towards him. He has earned a reputation as unapproachable and stickler among industry associates.

✧ He loves to play cards. He collects entire collections of them. His favorite card game is TCG Genius Invocation. It got you interested enough to get into it. He's very happy about that because being in 4ggravate has made it a bit difficult for him to find someone he can physically play with without spreading rumors. He loves to explain the new rules to you and show you what he has hunted for his collection.

✧ There was a time when, like Kaveh, he argued with Alhaitham. Whatever happened, one day he came back changed. Since then, they've at least respected each other and making your life a little easier.

✧ He is often given rap parts to sing. Mainly because of his low voice.

✧ Fans marvel at how different he can be. The media tried to create his image as quite dark. This is how new fans often see him. Meanwhile, when they spend a little time with him, they understand that this is not the case at all.

✧ A dedicated Cyno fan site was created to collect his jokes. They are very dry. Some people even send him their suggestions for him to tell on streams.

Alhaitham

✧ Alhaitham believes in peace and quiet. You asked him once why he stayed at 4ggravate then. He replied that in this way he would earn enough to have money for his dream life for a long time. He calculated it all. He even showed you the entire spreadsheet on the computer.

✧ You don't know how he does it but he's learning all the time. Be it from books or from various types of courses. Ask him anything, about everything. He will always have an answer.

✧ He writes the lyrics of the songs. With no exception. He has a gift for words. He always knows how to put them together to use rhymes or puns. Composing is not his strong point, so the worst moment is when he has to collaborate with Kaveh, who is better in this field. Not that he would ever admit it.

✧ If he could, he would avoid interviews and meetings with fans. He doesn't like any of these activities. He goes mostly because he has to. For this reason, he does not have as many fans as Kaveh, but he is not very interested in it. The people who choose him as their favorite are usually those who are deeply interested in his words and where he draws inspiration from. And they always get accurate and in-depth answers that make him their number one forever.

✧ He does not part with the headphones. So much so that it became his sign. One time Kaveh took it for fun when he wasn't looking and broke them. You didn't want them to fight again, so you took the blame and returned it to him after it was fixed. He immediately knew it wasn't you and made you promise not to take the blame on yourself again. Despite this, the next day, there were notes on your desk regarding the marketing strategy for the next quarter. Interestingly, better than you'd ever do yourself...

Tighnari

✧ Tighnari has a very sensitive musical ear. Thanks to this, he remembers songs extremely quickly, especially new ones and perfectly matches the rhythm by dancing. He is usually praised above all for his flawless choreography.

✧ The boy is vegan. He deeply believes in unity with nature. In his opinion, there is no need to use animals in this way. Half of his social media consists of this.

✧ Helped launch an eco-friendly line of stuffed animals called Aranara. He gave you one of his first pieces as a thank you for helping with their publicity campaign.

✧ He lives in the belief that being an idol will allow him to convey certain values to his fans. He attaches great importance to the educational aspect. He often comes up with themes for new albums and is able to cleverly combine them with previous or subsequent ones.

✧ Tighnari is known for his sarcastic statements, which is why interviewers love him. He skillfully sweeps them away and hits remarks back, making them borderline controversial. Their viewership is really high.

✧ Hates the heat. You used to shoot scenes for a music video in the desert. You remember that he was perfectly prepared then. That's not to say he didn't complain about the heat but he was one of the few members on set who didn't get sunstroke. He reminded you regularly to drink plenty of water and lent you his hat.

✧ At the beginning of his career, he received a headband with rabbit ears from his younger friend Collei. When they were younger, they attended several survival camps organized by their school together. To this day, she is his biggest fan. Tighnari only pulls out these ears on special occasions.

#genshin impact x reader #kaveh x reader #alhaitham x reader #cyno x reader #tighnari x reader #4ggravate #boysband au #headcanons #over teyvat #cyno #tighnari #kaveh #alhaitham

[existslikepristin]

This is completely unrelated to the fic I was working on last week, and also unrelated to... anything else I've ever written. It was almost just a joke between me and @buddysmut ... but then I wrote more than I thought I would (buddysmut has 100% permission to steal this and any concepts/phrases/etc in this due to basically suggesting it, btw). This is 0% effort, 0% editing, and 0% giving a shit. So, enjoy?

Tags: Gfriend, Sowon, another "anonymous" character, trashy porn script, TECHNICALLY no smut despite deepthroat and titty play... nah saying it isn't smut feels like the wrong call to make for legal reasons, this is very bad smut

Sowon sat on her grubby couch, reading the only script her agency could get her. "What the fuck? Dammit, I can't do this! This is... Dammit!"

Open scene on Sowon in security line at an airport.

[Officer] "Ma'am, please lift your arms above your head."

[Sowon] Complies. Her cropped tank top is short enough that the action reveals her areola. Linger on underboob shot as Officer slowly demands for Sowon's name and bra size.

[Officer] "Ma'am, you're going to need to come with me to the pat down inspection area."

[Officer] Roughly grabs Sowon by the arm to drag her to an open area, within full view of the rest of the security line. Informs the crowd that they will need to wait for the inspection before proceeding.

[Officer] "Ma'am, are you carrying any weapons?"

[Sowon] "No, officer! I promise!"

[Sowon] Squeezes boobs defensively.

[Officer] "Don't lie to me, bitch! These are too big to be natural!"

[Officer] Pulls Sowon's hands away. Angrily gropes Sowon's boobs. Linger on groping shot.

"What the fuck?! They can't even follow a logical plot... Why do I care?!"

[Officer] Pats Sowon down very slowly.

[Note] Jiggle boobs as much as possible.

[Officer] "We'll need to strip search you. Remove your top, bitch!"

[Sowon] Complies.

[Note] Squeeze boobs with tank top while removing. Allow to drop and bounce.

[Officer] Lifts, separates, bounces Sowon's boobs. Linger on all shots.

[Note] Crowd extras are taking pictures in the background.

[Officer] "Impossible! These feel natural! I'll need to taste them to make sure."

[Officer] Licks, sucks Sowon's boobs. Linger on all shots.

"If they want to linger on every shot, why do they need to keep saying it?! Fucking idiot perverts!"

[Sowon] "Officer, please! I promise I don't have any weapons!"

[Officer] "Don't talk back, bitch! What are you? Drunk? High?"

[Sowon] "No!"

[Officer] Covers Sowon's mouth.

[Officer] "I said not to talk back, whore! Get on your knees for a breathalyzer test!"

[Sowon] Complies.

[Officer] Presses dildo to Sowon's lips.

[Note] Do not use the small dildo again. Ratings fell dramatically last time. Dildo must be thirty centimeters long to leave room for handling, flexible, and at minimum four centimeters in girth.

[Officer] "Open wide!"

[Sowon] Complies hesitantly.

[Officer] Inserts dildo until visible through Sowon's neck.

[Sowon] Gags.

Sowon held a hand over throat, gulping with fear. "No... no way..."

[Officer] Thrusts dildo for a few seconds at a time, occasionally releasing so that Sowon may cough throat slime onto her boobs. Spreads throat slime over Sowon's boobs.

[Officer] "I can't get a good reading if you resist, slut! Comply with my instructions!"

[Sowon] Masturbates with a hand in her shorts.

"That... Nothing like that was in the contract!" Sowon threw the script onto the couch. Her phone buzzed insistently.

"What do you want?!" she shouted into the microphone at her agent.

"Where the hell are you?!" came the equally emphatic response, "Filming starts in half an hour, and you need makeup, now!"

"Half an...! The shoot isn't until Friday!"

"Exactly! What day do you think it is? Get down here now! If you're late, I'm not sucking off the director for you again! You're doing it!"

Sowon hung up and sprung off the couch, rushing downstairs and onto the street. She caught a taxi and was on her way. Timing was tight, but if the makeup artists were fast, she'd be good. She shuddered to imagine what her members would think of her if they knew she was taking a trashy porno gig to make ends meet. Her phone buzzed again, briefly this time.

A group text from Yerin to all of the members, along with a picture. It was a selfie, with Yerin dressed up as an airport security officer, winking into the camera, on a set Sowon had seen very, very recently.

got an acting gig baby! dunno who my costar is gonna be but i get to pump her up if you know what im sayin!

Sowon buried her face in her hands, suddenly feeling sick. "Shit..."

#gfriend smut #sowon #kpop smut #fanfic

[xeno828]

Trollhunters Ending FIXED!!!

So....I've recently binged this entire series, fell in love with it and promptly gotten heartbroken at the shitty ending the movie gave us. SO!!!! I have seen many people hating on the ending and pretending it and the movie didn't exist. I came up with an idea that I am permanently using as a replacement for the ending that I'm pretty happy with. I can't write dramatically for shit BUT I can scribble ideas! If anyone wants to flesh this out into a one shot fic PLZ TAG ME JUST SO I CAN READ IT!!!!!

(also this is gonna read more like a screen play for a movie cus I'm a vid editor and that's how I picture stuff, doesn't always translate well into a written story! 😅)

--------------

- So everything stays the same up until Jim uses the kronosphere to go back in time

- Instead of going back to the beginning and changing everything, he travels back to when the Arcane order had finally gotten a hold of the real Nari

- Everything is still happening around him but is dead silent as if he were deaf and in slight slo mo as he gets his bearings (not actually deaf, just that kinda cinematic idea for drama!!)

- Looks around and sees everyone alive gathered around (maybe some sappy or quiet music plays on top of him seeing everyone alive, I dunno!!!)

- As this is the past they don't know Jim just came from the future and are instead focused on glaring at something

- IRL sound hits back in like a huge thud, LOUD AF!!!!

- Jarring Jim to turn around and see the Arcane order hovering in that same ball of magic that surrounded them the first time (that's what everyone is glaring at btw!)

- This is when realization for Jim sets in and he knows this is his second chance

- The music from the credits in the original film (or something like that) starts to build up (in my head it's like him and the music are going "not this fucking time!")

- He transforms into his new armour (either cus it came back in time with him or cus now he knows about the 9th configuration, your choice!)

- Camera and everything is focused on the transformation as the music is building but you can see everyone in the background looking either shocked or like "HELL YEAH!!" when they see Jim finally transforming again

- Quick dramatic shot focusing on the Arcane order still performing their spell, t

- Some sort of cheesy/bad ass hero shot showing off everyone gathered together as the "9th configuration" and ready to kick ass

- Close up on Belroc looking pissed as they realize Jim has transformed and everyone is gathered to fight

- Equally cheesy close up on Jim quietly but determinedly saying something like "not this time" or "my turn" (I can't do dialogue I'm sorry!!!;)

- Jim jumps into fight with everyone following behind

- Final shot of everyone running toward the camera (Arcane order) and cuts to black with Jim swinging Excalibur at the camera.

- As it cuts to black the outro music (roughly 20 secs into it) hits the beat drop at the same time as the credits start!

--------------

Cliffhanger-ish ending, doesn't get rid of the whole story, leaves it up to imagination on who still lives and dies, doesn't undo character development, has more of a feel good "HELL YEAH!!" ending to it (at least for me!) Doesn't feel like a definite ending but has enough to still feel like Trollhunters isn't just over and wrapped up nice and nearly with a pretty bow! For me this works and I'm happy to pretend this is canon. Tbh 90% sure this looks cooler in my head than how it's written down, I might get round to making a vid edit for it on YouTube (cus that's my specialty) but dunno if anyone actually wants to see that!

As I said I'm not a writer so apologies for this chaos!! I don't usually post these things that I think about (cus I've also imaged a better ending for game of thrones!) But I just really wanted to share this in case someone else also enjoyed the concept or in case anyone wants to translate this mess into something coherent!

Anyway, rant done and idea written out, go have fun with it you want, just plz tag cuz I wanna read if you! 😭🙏

#trollhunters #trollhunter rise of the titans #fixed ending #jim #claire #toby #aja #krel #douxie #archie #james lake jr #jim lake jr #jim lake junior #jlaire #claire nuñez #rise of the titans #rott #steve #aja tarron #krel tarron #hisirdoux casperan #hisirdoux #magic #merlin #fix it fanfiction #fix it fic

[epickiya722]

Sorry, but I need to say something I've been thinking about for a while. I found geto's death forcing. 1.he loses to a boy with no experience and the power of ''love''. 2.he was stronger and had more knowledge and experience than the boy yuta. 3. It seems that the author just wanted to get rid of geto so that this annoying villain Kenjaku could come. 4. In my opinion, Geto is the best villain. I don't understand why the author didn't want to continue with him. 5. His death was forced because Saturo already had a change in character and personality. What I'm trying to say is that in the film, Satura is already different, he's no longer that immature young man. 6. the serious work was much more dramatic if geto had survived saturo blow he would have become stronger and returned as a villain again with sukuna. Sorry if it's big, but I have these doubts that such a good and well-constructed character had a horrible ending and very little.

I get you, Anon. You have every right to feel that way.

Honestly, as someone who does enjoy Geto, I'll tell you right now that your first point reminded me why I have came to hate the word "fraud".

I really hate what fandoms have done now to that word because it's like that word is thrown at every single character.

Lately, I keep seeing people call Geto a "fraud" because he lost to Yuta, but I'm sitting here like "what the hell is he faking though"?

They really associate losing to being a fraud and it's ridiculous.

Look, I adore Yuta, I do. But let's not sit here and act like Yuta wasn't having a difficult time against Geto because he was.

"Why is Geto considered a Special Grade"?

I don't know, maybe because his technique literally can bring about chaos all over Japan as how Kenjaku used it after the Shibuya Incident? Maybe because he did in fact trained as the same as Gojo did during their school years?

"He doesn't even have a domain"!

Domains are literal trump cards in JJK. It's actually impressive Geto hasn't relied on one. And how do we know he doesn't have one? Just because he didn't use one doesn't mean he doesn't have one. It's like saying a person doesn't have a purple shirt just because you didn't see them wear one that day.

I just can't with people!

The thing that gets me about the whole Yuta vs. Geto fight is that is it expected that Geto would have lost, even more so when the story made it clear that Yuta was going to be a strong individual, but it's how people are reacting to it that annoys me.

Oh my gosh, yes, he lost to a 16-year-old. A 16-year-old who happens to have an insane amount of cursed energy and a bond with the "Queen of Curses", and ooh! He's related to Gojo!

People saying this like it's a brand new concept and just to rag on Geto fans. Why though? You... you cannot be that bored! Yuta is written to be an overpowered character, while Geto was not.

Now, I could be wrong about this. But I feel like Geto was written to be a character that "haunts the narrative" much now just Toji does.

Geto, to me, is an interesting villain and I actually would have loved to see the years of from how he started his cult at 17 to an adult.

In relation to Kenjaku, that just reminded me of a post I saw that pretty much bashed Geto and praised Kenjaku. Now, the JJK villains, I enjoy them all to an extent, I do. And as such, it gets me sometimes how some Kenjaku fans (not all, folks, chill) will bash Geto like he's the worst and even as far as calling him ugly when... Kenjaku literally wanted to merge humanity with Tengen... for a laugh. Kenjaku has done some heinous things, too, come on. And going as far as to calling Geto ugly is funny when Kenjaku is walking around with his face.

Like, Kenjaku actually seeked out to use Geto's body. Not any of the other Special Grade sorcerers or anyone else. His technique was useful for Kenjaku and let's not forget that because of that face and that voice, Kenjaku put the Strongest Sorcerer in a box.

I won't lie, I'm actually intrigued how the plot would have been like if Geto survived and came back later for some more villainy. Him in Kenjaku's spot would be different... but that's a different I gotta see!!

#kiya answers #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #suguru geto #jjk spoilers

[heartfullofleeches]

Oh, boi, oh man.

Imagine: C.C with a hopeless romantic angel reader, the one who read too many human romance books and now wants a lover for eternity, the one who bring him flowers and chocolate when going to a date, or bringing him to special places (aka his or reader's favorite places) just to enjoy their time and pretend they are a normal human couple.

My heart--

(oh this is good. Reader is also a Cupid for added flavor)

"Stay safe out there, everyone! And remember, love is around every corner!"

Your heart soars at the DJ's words. You had always had a love for human romance, partly due to your role in guiding them to one another. The cheesy romance novels you read, and dramatic films you saw filled you with such glee. There was nothing sweeter than a lover's embrace; that first "I love you." Absolute magic.

You fell in love with the concept so much, you wanted your own partner to spend entirely with. Wrapped happily in a blanket of affection and undying devotion; no better dream than that to your lovesick mind. Unfortunately, you didn't have much contact with other angels due to most of your time being on earth. With that out of the question, you decided to settle on one of its residents.

Your first stop on your mission for love was a club. Not exactly the most romantic place, but it was filled to the brim with potential sweethearts. You chatted about, but never really felt that click with any of the people you talked too. Just before you decided to leave, the lights grew dim.

"Hey, folks. Sorry I was a little late. Had some car trouble."

An unfamiliar figure walks on the small stage in the front of the room. He smiles at the crowd, fangs poking past his lips. He was dressed in a pink jacket, wings strapped to a harness on his back. He had a hair pin in his white hair depecting a ribbon with an arrow shot through it. There was already a fuzzy feeling in your chest, but when he spoke again your heart was stolen.

"I'm C.C.. Your hometown cupid, and DJ for the evening. Let's have a good time and fall in love tonight."

Your face grows flushed. Where one might have found this act a little cringy, you thought it was the cutest thing ever. There was something off about him, but you couldn't put your finger on it. Could he possibly be an angel like you? The music began to play, but you paid no mind; all attention on him.

You had to meet him.

-

C.C walks out the back door of the club, the throb of a headache already coming on. It was a long night, and he really didn't need people shouting in his ear after the show.

"Hi!"

"Ah!" C.C shouts, dropping his keys in the process. He sees you standing there, smiling. He waves.

"Oh, uh, hey."

"I saw you in the club.. It was a nice show."

"Thanks.."

"This may be an odd question, but are you really one?'

"One what?"

"A Cupid? I heard you say it on stage, and you don't have the same aura of a human. It's kinda... dark."

"What the fuck are you- Oh shit." C.C backs up. With a second glance, he could tell what you really were; having dealt with your kind in the past. You on the overhand had no experience with a demon and therefore were clueless.

"Look- I really need to go." He reaches for his keys, you doing the same.

"Oh, I'll grab those for you."

Your hands meet somewhere in the middle, yours over his. A wave of nausea hits C.C upon contact with your skin; his face warmer than a million suns. Something like that meant only one thing for an incubus; he was in the presence of a potential mate.

"Aw, hell no."

-

You continued to pursue him from that day on. Even after finding out he was a demon, you still gave it your all. To C.C, angels were on the same level as humans; he disliked them. Especially as a family member fell victim to one in the past.

He refused to acknowledge any of the attention you gave him, or how adorable your laugh was. Or how cute you looked in the sunlight... or any light.

You showered him in gifts, and tried to find out what places he liked so you could take him. When you managed to get reservations for an exclusive club in a nice part of the city, he couldn't say no to coming. You even dressed up for the occasion, his decrepit heart pumping at the sight of you. Not even the bartender could get near you that night to ask what you'd like to drink.

You eventually wore him down to somewhat of a friendship. He let you follow him home sometimes, and you took care of him when he had hangovers. Your existence was kinda nice- not just because of the previous fact. You genuinely seemed to care for him, and that wasn't something he was used to.

However, one question still rang in his mind.

"Hey, Y/n? Why don't you just use one of your arrows on me to make me like you?"

"Why would I do that?" You laugh, voice softening as you continue. "Humans can fall in love without my help and I want that sort of true love. Plus, I can't use them for my own means... and I'm about fourty percent sure they'd kill you."

The latter part of your sentence falls on deaf ears. It was that one moment of genuine feeling that made him truly fall for you, as much as he'd still deny it. He decided, that if you were going to shower him in so much affection, he'd kill you with the same. Definitely not because he wants to see that smile of yours for the rest of your days.

Your first "date" is to a rose garden. C.C honestly didn't know much, but knew roses were a huge deal in romantic media. You brought him his favorite candy, which were gummies of any kind, but worms. He came prepared for it this time, bringing you a bouquet of flowers and a teddy bear.

In hind sight, it may have been a little silly to bring flowers on a date to a whole garden, but it was the thought that counted. You both enjoyed the day quite a bit, heading to a bakery nearby afterwards. The second you returned home, you were met with with fleet of texts from the demon, the final being just a simple wish goodnight.

His possessiveness bled through the longer you dated; something you would never pick up on. He would talk about you to friends or colleagues, but never let any of them meet you. He made the wall paper of ever device he had a picture from a carnival you went to. Constantly made subtle posts about you on all his pages. And if anyone talked shit about you, there would be hell to pay.

It wasn't until your twelfth date that he said the words you were waiting to hear. His obsession with you was too much to keep the damn of his heart closed forever. You were his muse, his everything; the love he never knew he needed all found in one of the cheeseist cliches there was.

Sitting atop a ferris wheel, hand in hand as the sunset before you, C.C squeezed your palm just a little tighter as he looked into your eyes.

"I love you, Y/n."

#C.C my oc #soft yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere x you #male yandere #yandere insert #yandere demon x reader #Yandere incubus #yandere blurb #yandere writing #Yandere fic

[runabout-river]

Sorry, but I need to say something I've been thinking about for a while. I found geto's death forcing. 1.he loses to a boy with no experience and the power of ''love''. 2.he was stronger and had more knowledge and experience than the boy yuta. 3. It seems that the author just wanted to get rid of geto so that this annoying villain Kenjaku could come. 4. In my opinion, Geto is the best villain. I don't understand why the author didn't want to continue with him. 5. His death was forced because Saturo already had a change in character and personality. What I'm trying to say is that in the film, Satura is already different, he's no longer that immature young man. 6. the serious work was much more dramatic if geto had survived saturo blow he would have become stronger and returned as a villain again with sukuna. Sorry if it's big, but I have these doubts that such a good and well-constructed character had a horrible ending and very little.

I can agree with much you said here but you have to realize one giant elephant in the room that makes all of this a little meaningless:

JJK 0 came out one year before Jujutsu Kaisen as a 4-chapter short story under the name "Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical School" in 2017.

JJK came out one year later because the editors of Shonen Jump liked the concept of this short manga. Everything else in JJK was built on top of the decision to continue the story + change the main character and the two main antagonists.

That's why Yuta and Yuji have so many similarities like being new to jujutsu and having a "demon" inside of them. Megumi's equivalent in concept is Maki, his cousin (with Maki's power transferred to his father), and the reason why Kenjaku is a body hopping villain is because Gege took over the design of Geto while making him another character.

This is the reason why JJK 0 feels like a weird cut and end point for a fantastically written hero-turned-villain.

Geto's concept was:

Villain for a short story

Doesn't have prior connection with the protagonist because Yuta is new to the power system and has his own antagonist (Rika)

Gets a connection with another important character to make him a rounded villain instead of a flat one

That connection is with Gojo

That connection is being former best friends

Gets defeated by the protagonist

Dies at the hand of his former best friend

Everything in Hidden Inventory came after these facts were already established and played out. Gege had already written Geto's end and then he wrote the beginning and from what your thoughts are (though this is different for everyone) Gege didn't manage to quite connect the new beginning to the old end in a way that felt like a believable progression.

But to be fair, I'd rather have Gege break the constraints of a four-chapter long manga with limited time to tell a good story about a villain, than hang on to that and make his current story worse.

I love the way Hidden Inventory was written and Geto is a big part of that. It would've been a shame of Gege curtailed Geto's parts in it to make JJK 0 fit better into the narrative.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #geto suguru #gojo satoru #suguru getou #gege akutami #ask #meta

[homosexualtransexual]

okay i was thinking about this meme earlier and it really ground my gears bc its like... not true?

like first of all ik this is a little hyperbole and Not Exact but i still wanna talk about it a lil.

so like first of all the concept art i think this is based off is very early when elsa was the villain and looked a lot different to anna and anna looked the same but her silhouette was different

and it does look cool and i do love it but this doesn't fit the direction the film went it so they changed it.

and you wanna know what much later concept art looked like?

kinda exactly like the film. bc the concept art changes. and its the same for other disney films.

here's some tarzan early concept art vs the later ones

the beast looks like a completely different species here than the completely different species he is in the later ones.

and like ik the frozen one is more dramatic of a change but the point is they all change for reasons and so does the plot and the actors and the script and everything changes.

but also like idk if Frozen is the film you wanna go for when you're talking about boring character design. so lets go through elsa and anna's journeys (just frozen 1 bc its 3am and im tired i just can't sleep until i finish this rant).

so the first time we see elsa and anna are at 7 and 5 years old respectively. as you can see, they both wear clothes simmilar to clothes theyre gonna wear later in the film. elsas clothes, hair, and colour scheme are very similar to what she transforms into at the end of let it go: hair braided and a very simple light blue dress. anna's look reflects her at elsa's coronation: a green dress with her hair tied back.

if we look at elsa at her coronation, it's very different from what she wears from the rest of the film. it's still got shades of blue, but they're all much darker and it contains 2 colours she will never wear again in the enterity of the franchise, let alone the film: black and purple. it's also the only time that she wears something that covers her from neck to toe. in addition, her hair is pinned up. to me this represents her repression of her power at the fear that she can't use them or she'll hurt someone or worse: anna.

lets move on to what anna wears at the coronation. its like a final evolution of the same dress she's been wearing the whole time. this shows that she hasn't really had to repress and can continue being her true self at the coronation. im gonna move on quickly because theres something more exciting that happens to anna's look very quickly

SHE'S WEARING A MORE CORMFORTABLE AND SLIGHTLY BLUER VERSION OF ELSA'S CORONATION DRESS! AHHH I LOVE THIS DESIGN SO MUCH EVEN HER HAIR IS DOWN HOW CAN ANYONE HATE THIS FILM'S CHARACTER DESIGN.

okay lemme calm down

its like a tactic when you're finding someone to ask yourself "what what they do?" you put yourself in their shoes and try and see things from their point of view. anyways anna is doing that with her clothes and its might be my favourite costume from the films? she wants to find elsa and help her and isn't scared of elsa even so much that she wants to be her. it's just so good. anyways moving on

THIS iconic masterpiece. what the discourse is all about. like obviously it's less extravagant than the concept art but first of all the details? the snowflakes coming up from the dress? my girl just learned how to make dresses and already made a masterpiece with ICE! but then also this is representing her being someone who she couldn't have been since she was 7! imagine that! having to repress who you are, not being able to explore yourself and your abilities because you're scared it could hurt someone. and if elsa wasn't taught to be scared of her powers she wouldnt have tried to push anna way and freezing her heart and i just went far off topic.

but anyways this is like kinda why i hate this discourse bc yeah the original wouldve looked cooler but cooler doesnt mean better for the film and i also might have a small special interest in frozen who knows

#concept art #discourse #frozen #elsa #anna #long post #disney #character design

[lousirs]

If you could add scenes or change certain designs to the uglydolls movie what would they be ? (Idk alternate institute design or random filler scenes)

For exemple i wish they insisted more onto the « doll school/training » thing.

Or another exemple, i had this idea where instead of Ox finding out bout Moxy and mandy being in danger with the printer thingy, he would’ve (seeing moxy’s missing) suspected Lou done something/has hurt Moxy and while running in the Pipe to the institute, he hears Moxy and mandy screaming for help (would’ve added a lot if you think bout it)

Gotta save this 65mill$ budget 💪💪🤩🤩

good question and wonderful ideas! i very much agree with the ox finding moxy/mandy scene. he should've been worried that he hadn't seen moxy in a while. sure, she was upset, but she is never so quiet... so he goes to check up on her, only to find an empty room, and panic arises. he tells the other uglydolls, and they go around town calling her name. and then ox reaches the sunflower pipe. realisation sinks in: "lou must've gotten her". and so the uglydolls help each other to get up the pipe, and through the darkness there is a faint red glow and screams for help.... dramatic... but maybe a bit too dark for a kids film, who knows xDDD

anywho, i have a lot of things i would change about the movie tbh, but to name a few: (buckle up everyone cause i got a lot to say)

first and foremost GIVE THE UGLYDOLLS (besides moxy and ox) A PURPOSE. babo, wage, luckybat and uglydog are the main characters technically, and yet they serve no purpose. if you removed them, and only had moxy find the institute, nothing would've changed. my fix? allow them to do what they are good at to win over the prettydolls.

from what is shown, i'm guesisng moxy is a reporter, luckybat is a fortune teller (or something like that), wage is a cook, babo is a builder and uglydog is a DJ. so! have luckybat tell the prettydolls fortunes (reading their palms or something idk), have wage cook them a nice meal, have babo build a cool contraption for them and uglydog host a dance party. and all the while, moxy is writing about the institute, life there, how lou is a big ol' meanie head, etc. this would've fixed so much, because in the film, the prettydolls turned on lou so quickly, so GIVE THEM MORE OF A REASON TO besides "ew prototype" and "he kicked a baby!!!". make the prettydolls warm up to the uglydolls, not due to their appearance, but due to who they are inside and what they enjoy doing. make them think that lou is wrong for being so cruel to them.

speaking of this, moxy writing down everything about the institute (perhaps to put into the uglyville newspaper) could be a point of tension! lou doesn't want his reputation to be smeared, so there could be a scene (i'd say after the training montage where lou is further trying to dissuade moxy) where lou tears up all the pages of her notepad, leaving her feeling devastated, but still determined to carry on despite the odds.

the only other point i have about the uglydolls is their designs. i would've loved to see them more like their original counterparts, cause they feel a bit too cutesy to be truly 'ugly' or whatever in the film. especially the stitches around the eyes, they should've kept that!! more of a handcrafted ragdoll look, i suppose!

for the institute... i feel like this is a hot take, but i like how empty it is. kind of shows how empty and artificial trying to be 'perfect' is. the repetitiveness of the institute also works to show that as well... buuut they could've taken it further. perhaps they could've gone for the more city-like area like they did in concept arts, but have it a lot more organised (too organised), so everything feels disorientating. for instance, the dolls houses are all clunked into a square area, same with the training course, etc.

this concept art, although looking sterile, still feels quite open and lively, like that of a big city. so they could make it feel more suffocating? who knows.

(i get that uglyville is quite clustered and tightly packed too, but that feels more like a comfortable closeness)(so the institute could be an uncomfortable closeness)

one scene they could've added for the prettydolls is the spy girls being hesitant to throw moxy and mandy in recycling. their expressions as moxy is going down the pipe shows fear and regret, and yet this brief, and they go back to being fine afterwards??? i get lou not giving a shit, but c'mon girls, you just helped kill two dolls! kidnapping isn't good either, but recycling innocent dolls is on a whole other level.

even if it was just a small piece of dialogue between the girls and lou, it would've worked... like:

"surely you aren't going to actually recycle them? that's way too far lou!"

or

"we didn't agree to this lou! you just told us to take them to you!"

and lou shuts them up and says how they'll be perfect yada yada idk. and that could be a breaking point for the girls, where they begin to distrust lou, because bro's a maniac.

i've mentioned this in a previous post, but i believe that the novel's version of lou and ox's backstory makes a lot more sense, in how lou stepped on the line ox was passing to make it seem like he failed the gauntlet, and the robots dragging ox to recycling. instead of ox making other dolls fail, and lou being like "imma show you recycling now. cya bub"

similarly, mandy getting the audience to coax lou into running the gauntlet makes more sense than him running the gauntlet on his own accord, fully knowing that he would be exposed. yay, peer pressure!

nit-pick here, but i wish they made nolan more 'imperfect' design-wise. although yeah, his hair and eyes are different colours and his uniform is too small, he has no socks and lost a button and has freckles, it all seems too... polished? like, his freckles are just around the cheeks, and although yeah, people can have exactly that irl, i would've loved if they went harder on it. same with his hair, the green parts are in a neat clump, that still matches the hair model of the doll. so fuck it! have him have messy hair with green strands randomly placed on his head, make his freckles heavier, so they cover his arms and legs etc too, make his uniform have hanging out threads and missing parts, etc etc! alsooo further push him having a long neck, small head, being tall, whatever. cause it's barely noticeable... (which i guess works cause lou picks up on the smallest of things but stillll i want a more 'imperfect' nolan xD)

that's all i can think of for now, and the post is long enough as it is sooo yeah xP

#uglydolls #ask #asks #lou uglydolls

[sheisjoeschateau]

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

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

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

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

A note from the writer:

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Enjoy and please leave feedback :)

x, MISHA

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

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

—————

VOLUME I

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

——————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smile brightly.  “Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

_______

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

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

“Nicoooole,” she whines. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But sure enough, you did pick Carol. 

Goose. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, well she’s my best friend.”

Steve’s words landed hard. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Steve?” you asked, voice quiet.

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

You gasped, eyes wide.  “Steve!”

“What?  She is.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Am I ugly?”

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

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

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

“Wanna come over for dinner?” Steve asked.

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

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

“Yeah, but I like mushroom pizza.”

Steve scrunched his nose.  “Eww, why?”

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

“Bleck.”

“You should try them,” you insisted.  

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

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

You smirked.  “Deal.”

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

“Hey Steve?”

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

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

“You’re my best friend, too.”

__________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nicky!” your mother squealed.  

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

“Come on, baby, make a wish!”

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

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

________________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Except you.

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

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

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

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

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

“Steve?” you asked, voice gentle.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re enough.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

____________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Steven!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“MOM, PLEASE, DON’T –”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This friendship is over.

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

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

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

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

“How many?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.  I do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t care about them –”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were Steve’s home.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steve was twelve years old when he found that out.

___________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This seat taken?”

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

“Be my guest.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nah, that shit’s hot,” he sneered.  

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

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

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

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

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

Steve shrugged, reaching to give the bottle a spin.  

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

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

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

You were still waiting on your first kiss.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

He gave the bottle a good spin.  

Lo and behold, it landed on you.

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

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

Yeah.  Oh shit, indeed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Huh, you thought.  Interesting.

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

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

…but your heart was his.

…and his heart was yours.

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

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

Sweet emotion…

Sweet emotion…

You talk about things that nobody cares

Wearing out things that nobody wears

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

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

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

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

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

Some sweat hog mama with a face like a gent

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

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

'Cause the backstage boogie sets your pants on fire

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

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

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

Sweet emotion…

Sweet emotion…

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

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

I pulled into town in a police car

Your daddy said I took it just a little too far

You're telling her things but your girlfriend lied

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

Yes it did

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

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

Stand in the front just a shakin' your ass

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

I'll talk about something you can sure understand

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

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

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

_________________

To be continued…

VOLUME II next month 🖤

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