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lovebugism · 3 months

Note

“oh, if i had known that’s all it would take for you to shut up i would’ve done this ages ag-“ “only finish that sentence if you have a death wish” with steve & punchy? <3

ty for requesting :D — steve makes a stupid joke and figures out what makes you tick (steve x punchy, hurt/comfort-ish, 0.9k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

The argument started as a joke. And honestly, you kinda started it, so you have no reason to be as angry about it as you are now. You’re the one who said you hated Steve’s singing. It was only right he argued playfully back.

“What are you talking about?” he scoffed as he climbed into bed beside you, freshly showered and smelling like your shampoo. “My singing is amazing.”

“Okay, Kermit the Frog,” you quipped, giggling.

“You know who’d like my singing?”

Your eyes narrow when he cuddles into your side. “Who?”

“Tammy Thompson,” he answered with a knowing smile.

He should’ve known he was playing with fire then.

“The girl who sounds like Miss Piggy?”

“Yeah,” Steve hummed, shrugged two freckled shoulders. “Maybe I should be dating her instead.”

You knew he was joking. Steve was a dumbass, but he wasn’t mean. He’d never say something like that with the intent to hurt you. He did anyway, though. His words take you by surprise, and you go silent. And that’s when Steve knows he’s said the wrong thing. Because his oh, so lovely loudmouth Punchy is never silent.

“I’m kidding!” he exclaims when you turn away from him. You cross your arms over your chest and shift softly on the mattress — playfully pouty in your way but meaning every bit of it. “Punchy. C’mon. You know I didn’t mean that.”

He reaches out for you and wraps a golden arm around your shoulder. You shrug, flinching away from him. “Don’t touch me,” you murmur, even though you don’t really mean it. ‘Cause, yeah, you’re a little upset, but you love when he coddles you.

You’re grateful when he only hugs you tighter.

“Why not?” he argues and leans in to kiss your cheek. His plush lips just barely graze your jaw before you duck away from him. He laughs loud in your ear, as golden as honey.

“It’s not funny. Steve! That wasn’t nice!”

“Don’t be like that, babe. It was just a stupid joke.”

You turn your chin to your shoulder to glare at him, just so he can see your unamused pout from head-on. He meets your glower with a grin and tries to peck you. You turn away before he can. “Go kiss Tammy Thompson.”

“Punchy…”

“Steve…” you say in the same low tone.

“If I wanted Tammy Thompson, I’d be with her.”

You know he’s trying to comfort you. He chose you because he wanted to be with you, and he didn’t choose Tammy because he didn’t want to be with Tammy. You know that’s what he means, but it sounds like King Steve is saying it.

“Oh, really?” you squint.

Steve shrugs. “Yeah. She was obsessed with me. You know that. Hell, everyone knew that.”

“Why? ‘Cause everyone was obsessed with you, King Steve?”

He figures you must be calling him that to hit a nerve. He’d hurt your feelings (even though he truly hadn’t meant to), and now you want to hurt his back. And it might’ve worked if the way you said it didn’t turn him on.

He likes you all riled up like this, he quickly realizes. Now he just wants to keep poking at you, make you that tiny bit more mad. So, with a very smug smile on his pink lips, he answers. “Yeah… Kinda.”

His plan works.

“Okay, news flash, just because you’re pretty and you have nice hair doesn’t make you less of an asshole, alright?” you argue without taking a single breath. “Actually, for a long time, you were the biggest asshole I had ever met— and sixteen-year-old me would be gagging if she knew I was in your bed right now.”

“Yeah?” he eggs on, pressing his lips to your warm shoulder where the neck of your too-big sweatshirt had fallen.

“Yeah, actually! I mean, you were boorish and vapid and totally incorrigible—”

“I don’t know what any of that means,” he mumbles against you and continues pressing little kisses to your warming skin.

“—And the fact that Tammy Thompson, let alone anybody, could’ve been obsessed with someone like you back then is totally…” His lips find your pulse point then, wet and sanguine. The words get jumbled up in your head, and you forget how to say them out loud.

You feel Steve’s mouth curl into a smirk against your neck. He knows he’s got you in the palm of his hand now. “Is totally what?” he teases, muffled into your skin.

“Shut up and keep kissing me,” you murmur.

He listens to you, because he always listens to you, but it’s hard to when he’s smiling so wide. His lips sprinkle up the length of your neck and over your jaw. He pulls away with a rosier, softly swollen mouth.

His smile is gentle and lopsided. “If I’d known that’s all it took to get you quiet, I would’ve done it forever a—”

You reach for him suddenly, splaying your palm over his mouth — pinky under his nose and thumb over his stubbly chin. Your eyes narrow. “Only finish that sentence if you have a death wish,” you mutter in a low, threatening tone. “Nod so I know you understand me.”

He nods into your hand.

“If you still want me to be your girlfriend tomorrow, only talk to tell me how much you love me and that you hate Tammy Thompson.”

You feel his smile widen beneath your palm. He nods again.

You pull your hand away.

“Now kiss me.”

The fucker takes the breath from your lungs.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: bug turns one

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hardboiledleggs · 9 months

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Hawkins High Prom, 1985

Howdy gang, it's been a minute. This is a quick little oneshot I whipped up for the lovely @imnotokayhru based on this post of theirs. TW for a tiny bit of internalized homophobia and bad teenage dancing lol

The Munson Doctrine does not allow for attending high school prom, especially without a date. Jeff had just begged so hard, and Eddie Munson was, at his core, a weak man. Secretly, he’d been hoping to see what prom was like, and it turned out that it sucked hard. So now he was here, surrounded by crepe paper and sweaty teenagers, and listening to Cyndi Lauper and Blondie.

Jeff’s date, a quiet girl from his biology class, had dragged him onto the dance floor almost an hour ago. Gareth had been too young to go to prom, and Grant had flat-out refused, so now Eddie was stuck here by himself watching the teenage population of Hawkins try to moonwalk. Hello, therapy.

A third glare from the chaperoning Mrs. Click forced Eddie to move from his hiding place near the wrestling mat. He had been slowly revolving around the room, doing his best to keep away from Higgins, but apparently his tactic of standing completely still and looking bored was suspicious to the teachers for some reason.

Just then, Mr. Mundy abandoned his post by the door to the boys’ locker room, yelling “Hands, Hagan! Let me see your hands!” as he went.

Spotting his chance, Eddie dodged a decidedly drunk Tammy Thompson and hurried into the locker room. He breathed out a sigh of relief as the door shut behind him and muffled the DJ.

He checked his watch. Still too early for the damn thing to be over. He debated trying to escape through the vents briefly before realizing that he wouldn’t know which direction to crawl in and might die up there. It would be really funny if his corpse fell out of the ceiling during O’Donnell’s class, though.

Eddie gazed at the lockers for another moment before inspiration struck. Hadn’t he sold to all these asshole jocks one hundred times? Surely, at least one of them kept their stash in their gym locker.

He hurried over to the first locker and pinched his nose, anticipating the smell of sweaty jock straps and unwashed ass to assault him. His senses were pleasantly surprised when the locker betrayed only a faint floral scent that vaguely reminded him of his mom.

Eddie rifled through the contents. Extra socks, a basketball uniform, and a pair of Adidas sat at the bottom. The top shelf had deodorant, hair gel, a tin of moisturizer, and a can of Farrah Fawcett hair spray. Eddie snorted. No weed, just the sports paraphernalia of a very fussy member of the basketball team.

“Uh, hey. That’s my locker you’re stealing from.”

Eddie swore loudly and straightened up, smacking his head against the shelf of the locker. Tears sprang to his eyes and he staggered backward, clutching the top of his head. His would-be thievery victim started to apologize, and that was when Eddie looked up and recognized the very famous head of hair.

“Is it still stealing if I was doing my civic duty and just planning on removing any illegal substances I found during my snooping?” Eddie muttered as he rubbed the spot where a bruise was already forming.

“Unless you became a cop and didn’t tell anyone, I’m pretty sure theft is still theft,” Harrington snorted.

“I’m no pig, Steve-O. Just a guy looking for weed.”

“In that case, let’s try Hagan’s locker,” Harrington said as he crossed to the other side of the locker room. He let out a little “Aha!” of triumph and tossed a bag across the room that Eddie caught with one hand.

He slumped down with his back against Harrington’s locker and stuck his feet out in front of him, trying to ignore the way the tiles looked. Harrington crossed the room, hesitating for only a second before he flopped down next to Eddie, not quite touching, but sitting close enough that it would be easy to pass the joint Eddie was carefully rolling between the two of them.

“I’m assuming you’re planning on sharing?” Harrington quirked an eyebrow at him. He didn’t seem to notice that his very nice black suit was in contact with the biohazard that was the Hawkins High boys’ locker room floor.

“Of course, my liege. I always share the spoils of war with my fellow countrymen,” Eddie quipped. He passed the joint to Steve for the first hit, digging in his pocket for his lighter.

His companion took a deep breath, letting the smoke sit in his lungs before breathing out and passing the joint to Eddie. Eddie tried not to notice the way the wisps of smoke curled from between his lips and took a drag.

“Would’ve thought you would have your own weed for this thing, Munson. Isn’t this kinda your territory?”

Eddie scoffed. “I may be repeating my senior year but I’m not an idiot. Higgins would lose his mind if he caught me dealing at prom.”

Steve threw his head back and laughed. His already-nice face was so much nicer when he laughed. It made him look younger, much less like the haggard boy who sometimes showed up to their shared history class with dark circles under his eyes.

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, swapping the joint back and forth. Eddie picked at a hole in the leg of the dress pants Wayne had lent him, wondering why Harrington was being so nice to him and if he could push his luck.

“So, Farrah Fawcett, huh?” he said with a wry grin. Steve’s cheeks flamed with color.

“Hey, I’m swearing you to secrecy here. All of this-” he gestured at his ridiculous poofy hair, “-is only achieved with a very specific routine, okay? This stuff is the real deal.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” Eddie grinned. “Speaking of secrets, why are you hiding in the locker room when you should be out there, in your element?”

Steve frowned. He actually looked uncomfortable.

“Well, my date started dancing with Hargrove when I went to piss, so…” he trailed off. “Guess I figured I’d wait out the dance in here while she had fun. This really isn’t my element anymore, anyway.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows. “How did you pick a girl stupid enough to ditch you, Harrington? Did you ask your cousin or something?”

Steve pressed his lips together, suppressing a smile.

“No, jackass. I think she just thought it would make her look cooler to come with a date and I was available. Whatever, it’s fine, I didn’t even like her that much. She wore this ridiculous dress that pushes her boobs together so hard it looks like they’re going to pop out.”

Eddie cackled at that. He could already feel the contented stupor from the weed seeping into his system.

“If it makes you feel better, I came alone. Or, I guess I came as the third wheel who can’t dance so he got left by the snack table,” he shrugged.

Steve glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.

“What do you mean, you can’t dance?” he asked. “Everyone can dance. You just have to sway around in a circle with your arms around somebody. Have you never slow-danced at a school dance before?”

Eddie shook his head. “C’mon, Harrington. Nobody wants to dance with the freak.”

Steve slapped his knee and stood up abruptly. He held his hand out to Eddie, who stared up at him from the ground.

“Would you like to dance with me?”

Eddie gaped up at him. Harrington actually looked nervous.

“Be serious. You don’t want to dance with me. What, is Hagan hiding in the showers, ready to punch me for agreeing to this like some queer?” Eddie snapped.

Steve’s face fell a bit, but he still grabbed Eddie’s hand and hauled him to his feet.

“I’m not even friends with Tommy Hagan anymore, Munson. Come on, I like this song.”

The intro to George Michael’s Careless Whisper filters through the door to the locker room. Eddie hesitantly wraps his hands around Steve’s neck and shivers when a large pair of hands settle at his waist.

They swayed together slowly. Eddie couldn’t bring himself to look Steve in the eyes, so he busied himself with counting the moles on his neck. George Michael crooned about his guilty feet as they revolved around the locker room.

“See. This isn’t so bad, is it?” Steve whispered into his hair. They had drifted unconsciously closer as they danced, and now they were only a few inches apart.

He pulled back a bit to force Eddie to make eye contact with him. Eddie forced the blush that was fighting to rise to his cheeks back down and smiled.

“I would say it’s the best dance I’ve ever had, but I don’t have anything to compare it to,” he admitted.

“Well, I do, and I agree,” Steve said. “Don’t sell yourself short, you’re a very good dancer.”

Eddie grinned.

“Don’t let me get too cocky, Stevie. I might think you actually like me.”

“And if I said I did?” Steve asked seriously.

“I-I’d tell you that you probably don’t know what you’re talking about,” Eddie stammered.

Their eyes met again. Steve had a worried little crease between his eyebrows that Eddie registered as very cute in the back of his mind. They continued to sway even as Eddie’s hands began to sweat. Steve’s expression cleared suddenly, as if he had made up his mind about something.

“Stop me if this is, I mean, if I’m doing the wrong thing, okay?” he murmured.

He lifted the hand that had been on Eddie’s waist and cupped his cheek. Eddie felt his heart fall out of his chest and settle somewhere near his stomach. Steve’s eyes fluttered shut and he started to lean forward.

Tonight the music seems so loud, I wish that we could lose this crowd.

Eddie’s lips parted in a hastily stifled gasp as Steve Harrington kissed him. His own eyes slid shut as their lips met. Everything melted away: the smell of the locker room, the harshness of the fluorescent overhead lights behind his eyelids, even his own nerves squirming in his stomach. There was nothing but the press of Steve’s soft lips against his own and the pressure of his hand against Eddie’s face.

Far too quickly, Steve pulled back. Eddie stared at him, wide-eyed with shock.

“That was okay, right? That I did that?” Steve asked softly.

“Uh, um, yes yeah definitely. Definitely okay.”

Steve grinned at him. It was so infectious that Eddie couldn’t help smiling back. He was still cradling Eddie’s face gently in his warm hand.

“Then would it be weird if I asked you if you wanted to sneak out of here with me and drive around for a bit? I don’t really feel like going back to prom,” Steve said.

“I’m all yours, big boy,” Eddie replied breathlessly.

Steve twined their fingers together and leaned in to press a chaste kiss to his lips. Then he tugged Eddie toward the door, laughing. It was the most beautiful thing Eddie had ever seen.

~~~

They're so cute I love them so much. After this they drove around Hawkins for hours, singing along to the radio and holding hands and other sappy things. Anywhosies as always let me know if you want to be added to (or removed from) my permanent Steddie tag list where I bother you anytime I write anything about these two boys <3

Steddie tag list

Tag list: @brassreign @inmoonywetrust @kyoxyukiforever @spectrum-spectre @vampireinthesun @awkwardgravity1 @obsessivlyme @steddieassheg0es @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @sunflowers-and-knives @original-cypher @e0509 @estrellami-1 @scottiedoessknow @sweetwaterangel @novelnovella

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie fic #stranger things fanfiction #hawkins high prom #steddie fluff #steddie brainrot #i literally love them so much its crazy #like why did i spend 4 hours on this when i have homework due

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crappymixtape · 3 months

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i want you the most

REQUEST → @palmtreesx3 , A VERY MERRY MIXTAPE ❝ what about caught under mistletoe at a christmas party with steve. at least fluffy, maybe a wee bit more smutty? – steve's never been kissed under the mistletoe, what kind of girlfriend would you be if you didn't make it memorable? | ( 1.8k – established relationship, tiny bit of fluff, lots of snark, sprinkle of smut, steve x reader )

I W A N T Y O U T H E M O S T 🎶 rockin’ around the christmas tree, brenda lee

Steve couldn’t keep his hands off of you. It was that red sweater. Teasing just above your knee. Sheer, black tights underneath with a stripe running up the back.

“Steve,” you half-pleaded, the grin on your lips betraying you, hands swatting his away from your ass.

“What? I’m behaving,” he replied, words coated in sincerity but his eyes said differently. Glittered dark in the Christmas lights strung around the room as the corner of his mouth pulled up into the boyish smirk you knew all too well.

“Mmhm,” you hummed, unconvinced, but you didn’t care. Not really. And neither did anybody else. The music in Tammy’s living room was too loud and the lights too low for anyone to notice anything that wasn’t right in front of them and even if they did, it was a party.

The counters in the kitchen were covered in bottles of booze, cans of beer, half-smoked packs of Swisher Sweets and Eddie’s signature dime bags. The whole house looked like Christmas had puked all over everything and honestly? You kind of loved it.

“Hey–” Steve’s voice pulled you from the haze you were swimming in. Weed and beer and the loud music making your ears all fuzzy and…"–can I try something?”

“Hm?” you asked, a slight pinch of confusion between your brows as you looked up at him and he just gave you this coy little smile. Slowly, gently, pushed you backwards until the heels of your shoes hit the doorframe between the kitchen and the hallway.

“Hm?” he echoed back, nodding toward the ceiling and when you looked up the sight made your stomach flip over. Gave you butterflies. Made you smile like you had a stupid crush and when you looked back at him he was just so smug.

“Mistletoe?”

“Would you believe I’ve never kissed under it?”

“Ever? You’re joking.”

“M’not! Swear,” he chuckled clasping a hand over his heart, smile still lingering on his lips. Your brow quirked skeptically, but when he moved to take your waist any semblance of a witty comeback shattered at his touch.

His hand was wide and warm at the small of your back. Pulling you in, in, in. Into him. Into his chest. The heat of it radiating against yours. The way his hair fell into his eyes when he crowded over you and the long sweep of his lashes and the pout of his lips as they parted pretty, waiting.

And when you pressed up onto your toes to catch his bottom lip with yours he decided mistletoe was absolutely worth the hype.

It started out soft, curious and languid. Steve’s sweet first kiss under the mistletoe, but when your fingers tangled in his hair and tugged gently at it, it pulled a little groan from him. A needy sounding thing that lit a fire in your chest and you grinned against him.

“Did you like that?” you whispered against the shell of his ear and it blew his pupils wide. Made him feel fit to bursting.

“Y-yeah, like it. Do it again. Please, baby,” he babbled, mouth running with all the beer and drunk on the way you tasted.

You’d made out at parties before, no one gave a shit, but that wasn’t going to cut it tonight. Not with the way he pressed against you and definitely not with the way his ass looked in those jeans.

Hooking your fingers into his belt loops you pulled him away from the party. Down into the deep indigo shadows of the hallway and he followed eagerly. Greedy hands seeking your waist out again as he pushed you up against the wall and dragged his lips along your jawline and down your neck. Kisses open mouthed and messy.

His teeth grazed your skin and it pulled a gasp from you, half-startled, and you breathed a laugh.

“Steve,” you chided and he grinned.

“You’re driving me crazy, Princess. Look at you,” he tugged your sweater up to palm at your ass through your tights and you sucked in a raspy breath.

“Find a room,” fell out, a statement not a question as you tried not to seem too desperate, but you knew how you sounded and it was all the encouragement Steve needed.

“Yeah-yeah a room. Good. Okay,” he was running his mouth again, eyes darting back and forth down the hallway, looking for somewhere to hide until he saw it.

An open door, dark and tucked away from the living room and absolutely perfect and he grabbed your hand and practically ran the rest of the way down the hall. Wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you in, but instead of falling onto a bed you both found yourselves tripping down.

“Oh shit–”

“Jesus Christ!”

Steve fell first into the dark, half-catching himself on what felt like an armchair. Clumsily landed on the seat and tightened his hold on you so that you fell into his lap and not the floor.

Silence settled between the two of you. Hearts racing and breaths falling fast as you realized you were okay and then you buried your face into his chest and started laughing.

“Who puts a den this far down a hallway?” Steve criticized, glaring at the drop from the entry into the room and it made you laugh even harder.

“Who has a den anymore?” you countered and he snorted.

“Fair.”

And as your laughter quieted you realized where you were sitting. More importantly what you were sitting on, and you sobered. Wiggled your ass against his lap and slid a leg onto either side of him to straddle him on the chair. Pushed your palms into his chest and settled back down where it was your turn to give him the coy look.

“I’m not complaining,” you murmured and his hands instinctively squeezed at the plush of your hips.

“No, nope. Me either. Not complaining.”

And Steve’s hands slid around to the small of your back and down to squeeze at your ass again. Pressed you up so that you he could catch your lips in another kiss, your tits just under his chin, and it was heated this time. Urgent, needy. His tongue running along the seam of your lips and you moaned into him, opening to let him lick into you.

Slotting a hand between your thighs from behind, he pressed his fingers between your legs against your tights and even with all the layers he still could feel how soaked you were.

“Christ,” he said, voice shot as his eyes squeezed shut, “So wet, babe.”

“Your fault,” you accused, bucking your hips up against his and it made him curse again as he bit down on the skin at your collarbone, pulling another moan from you.

Fingers slipping under the waist of your tights he moved to tug them down your legs, but a light flicked on outside the door and you froze.

“Shit,” you swore under your breath and Steve’s head jerked around to look.

“Who is it?” he hissed and you heard someone running down the hallway.

“Harrington! You in here? We gotta—” Eddie’s head appeared in the doorway and as he realized what he’d just interrupted he palmed his face. “Shit. Sorry, man–” and then quietly to himself, “–why do I always do that?”

“What, Eddie?” Steve pushed and the other boy shook his head.

“Fuck, right. Cops are here. We gotta go.”

“Cops? What–I don’t–who cares? We’re all 21,” Steve’s tone was clipped short and beyond irritated as he sat with you still straddling him in the armchair, hand down your tights, and Eddie started to panic.

“Sure! Fine! But that doesn’t cover this–” Eddie held up a giant baggie of weed and then from beyond the doorframe, yanked Robin into view by the collar of her sweater, “–or this.”

“God dammit,” Steve muttered and squeezed his eyes shut as he pulled his hand away from your panties. Sucking a breath in through gritted teeth he looked back up at Robin, “You’re seriously not 21 yet?”

“Not til July, dingus,” she snarked, arms folded over her chest and defiant, and that was it for Eddie.

“Listen, I’d love to discuss the intricacies of law and shit, but not in the back of a patroller! Yeah? Leave please? Now?”

“Jesus Christ, alright!” Steve scooped you up and put you back on the floor on two feet, grabbing your hand in his and thankful you weren’t wearing heels. “C’mon, genius. Out the back,” he shoved at Eddie, pushing him and Robin toward the end of the hall, pulling your close behind.

Steve had partied at Tammy’s plenty during high school and knew all the quick exits out, just in case, and low and behold at the end of the hallway there was a small door that led out into the backyard. Eddie wrenched it open and all four of you stumbled out of the house and into the snow.

The cold air hit you, hitched your breath in your throat and you froze for a second, but then when you glanced up the red and blue flashing lights coming down the road were enough to shake you back to reality.

“C’mon, shitheads, let’s go,” Steve urged Eddie and Robin who were arguing over who was going to hold the bag of weed, all four of you crunching across the yard and down the driveway to Steve’s BMW. “Swear to god, I’m making you walk next time, both of you!” he hollered over the hood of the car as everyone piled in and he wasted no time in cranking the ignition on.

“No, you won’t,” Robin snarked from the backseat, Steve trying to drive as casually as he could as the cop car sped past.

“Wanna bet?” Steve glared at her in the rearview and Eddie elbowed her in the rib.

“No, we don’t,” Eddie said, eyes boring into the side of Robin’s head. “Thank you, Steve,” he elbowed her again and she grumbled under her breath, thank you squeezed somewhere between asshole and I hate parties anyway.

“Great. Merry Christmas,” Steve grouched and you slid a hand over the top of his thigh, trying so hard to keep a straight face at how ridiculous your friends were. At how pretty your boyfriend was, even when he was flustered, but especially when he showed how much cared.

“Babe,” you said quietly, only to Steve as Eddie and Robin bickered in the back.

“Yeah?” he was still irritated, but easing at your touch, your voice.

“You’re a good friend.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, wanted to smile, but he fought it.

“Yeah, well. Those two don’t make it easy,” he grumbled, but it was softer. Halfhearted.

“I do,” you teased, squeezing at his thigh and that got him. Brought back his smirk as he glanced over at you.

“Mmm, you do,” he agreed, hand slipping over your leg, teasing and pinching at your thigh a little.

"Got any mistletoe at home?" you joked lamely and he grinned, that flicker of heat from earlier licking in his chest.

"No, but I've got a den."

"You don't!" you giggled and shoved at him, your cheeks flushed at the thought of it and he laughed.

"Fine. No den, but I definitely have an arm chair," he said, voice lower and warm and it made you press your legs together.

"I've got an arm chair if you need it!" Eddie chimed in from the back and you both yelled.

"No, Eddie!"

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist ♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

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augustjustice · 2 years

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I see your “Eddie fell first, Steve fell harder” and raise you:

Steve Harrington falls in love fast.

It happened with Nancy. Nancy Wheeler, junior year. Make outs in dimly lit high school bathrooms and study sessions where all they had done was study and impromptu pool parties that quickly led to the revelation that this thing with Nancy was more. More than what he’d felt with the other girls before, even the ones he had really, really liked. And with his sudden, intense fall from infatuation to something more with Nancy Wheeler came the uglier parts--Steve’s jealousy and the awful choices that Steve could never really make up for. But even from the worst parts bloomed some of the better ones: Steve learning to own up to his mistakes, to apologize without expectation.

And that’s when he had stumbled into the monster fighting, and the entire situation had delivered a healthy helping of the wallop to the head Steve needed to start to really turn his shit around.

He had loved Nancy Wheeler, quickly, passionately, fiercely. He loved her, and she had made him want to be better. She had made him want to be more.

It happened again with Robin. Long days slinging ice cream for minimum wage while Robin mocked Steve’s every attempt to flirt turned to top secret code cracking missions. After the luck Steve had had, he isn’t even sure why he had been surprised when their play at being heroes had led to Robin and him being kidnapped, tortured, and drugged out of their minds in a secret Russian facility underneath the Starcourt Mall, strapped together and giggling madly as they reminisced about Click’s class.

In the span of a few hours, Steve could feel it, that tell-tale clench in his chest, like he was dropping on a roller coaster. Falling, fast and swift, like he always did, even when he was certain they were going to die.

And he’d owned up to it, coming down from the high, huddled on that dirty mall bathroom floor. Only for Robin, overachiever that she was, to one up his confession with her one of her own, fear in her eyes as she admitted to longing stares at Tammy Thompson, upending everything Steve thought he knew and turning his world on it’s axis. Robin Buckley--his Scoops Ahoy co-worker, his brother in arms, the girl he was quickly coming to realize was his best friend--liked girls.

Steve thinks, even now, the most shocking part about it had been how it changed everything, and nothing at all.

He loves Robin Buckley fiercely, still, with everything that he is and wishes he could be. If platonic soulmates exist, she’s his. He would die for her without even batting an eye.

It isn’t the love he thought he was looking for, but, in so many ways, Steve thinks it might be better.

So, when it comes around again, it isn’t as surprising as Steve guesses it should be.

Steve has been avoiding Eddie Munson for months now, since not long after the start of fall semester, when Dustin had come whizzing into Family Video to tell Steve all about the school’s club around the kids’ nerdy little fantasy game and the amazingly cool DM--dungeon master, Dustin explains later, and, seriously, how that is not a sex thing is still beyond Steve--who runs it: none other than “the Freak” Munson himself.

Steve remembers Munson, from school. It’s sort of hard not to, what with his flair for the dramatics, the way he was always putting himself out there and painting a target on his back.

King Steve had been a tiny bit jealous of the fearless way Eddie was so willing to be openly, unapologetically himself.

Babysitter Steve is a lot jealous when Dustin and the other shrimps, stars in their eyes, go on and on about how cool Eddie is now.

So, no matter how many times Dustin insists he thinks that Steve and Eddie would actually get along, if they ever got to know each other, Steve avoids him.

The Upside Down, as it so often does, seems to have other plans.

Turns out, Henderson, little shit that he his, had been right. Again.

A few days of helping Eddie hide from the cops and Upside Down misadventures is all it takes to realize: he and Eddie do get along.

Eddie, who looks to Steve for explanations, big brown eyes curious and anxious, and then actually listens to Steve when he provides them. Eddie, who catches Dustin by the shoulders when he looks like he’s about to charge into Lover’s Lake himself and play wrestles with him in the grass as they prepare themselves for battle, falling into the roll of de facto big brother as easily as Steve always has. Eddie, who grins wide and teasing as he calls Steve big boy and presses his should right up against Steve’s chest as he lays down a plan of attack, always invading his space in a way that should be too close for comfort but Steve finds he doesn’t mind. Eddie, who confesses that he considers himself a coward despite all evidence to the contrary; who backs up Steve’s protests when the others are ready to charge full speed ahead into danger; who calls Steve a bad ass with a delighted twinkle in his eye after he bites into that gnarly demo-bat; who admits, open and easy, that he was jealous of Steve too.

Eddie, who along with everyone around Steve, has somehow gotten it into his head that Steve and Nancy are on round two of their second chance romance, fated to fall back into each other’s arms here at the end of times.

He tells Steve so, in no uncertain terms, while Steve’s eyes drift downwards, the moment feeling surreal as he watches Eddie’s mouth form the words.

He buys into it, a little, though, he guesses. Enough to admit his cross-country dreams had included Nancy, as they trek to take care of Vecna once and for all.

Even as he says the words out loud, they don’t quite sound right to him anymore.

A silence falls after his admission, Nancy looking at him like she knows she needs to say something. And then Robin, his own personal guardian angel, interrupts them, and the moment passes.

Their moment passes. For good this time.

After they’ve done all they could to put a stop to Vecna, they head back to Eddie’s trailer, their agreed upon rendezvous point.

As soon as he sees the two figures huddled on the ground, a cloud of demo-bats dissipating in the air above them, Steve breaks into a run.

Dustin is clutching Eddie in his arms. Steve falls to his knees beside them, reaching out to shoulder Eddie’s weight himself.

Steve is certain that he’s dead.

The thought seems, for just a moment, to make his own heart freeze in his chest.

Beneath him, Eddie suddenly sucks in a wet, rattling breath.

“Shit,” Steve exhales, realizing only then that he had been holding his own, “shit, Eddie. Hey, man. You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

Beside him, Dustin lets out a wrecked sob. He looks at Steve like he believes it.

“I thought I told you not to be a hero,” Steve says, later, voice quiet but stern.

They made it to the relative safety of the mobile home and are now tucked together in the back, Eddie’s head sprawled against his knees. Steve keeps an arm clutched around him to keep him as still as he can, Nancy taking the curves back to the Creel House way too fast.

Steve had seen the severed rope as they trundled, just barely, out of the portal in the roof of the trailer and back into the real world. Dustin has been limping ever since they found him.

Eddie had gone back. To distract the bats. To protect them. He’d even done his best to save Dustin from playing hero in the process.

It was brave, and heroic, and stupid, and Steve aches a little at the thought of it.

“Couldn’t let you show me up this time, big boy,” Eddie slurs, the laugh in his voice almost choked as he blinks blearily up at Steve, brown eyes dazed but bright.

Then he passes out in Steve’s lap.

Oh, Steve thinks, hand gripped around Eddie’s wrist, his steady pulse beneath Steve’s fingertips a comfort as a new kind of panic starts to rise.

He feels it. The thickness in the air as something clenches in his chest, dizzying, like a rollercoaster drop.

Falling.

Oh, holy shit.

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #my stuff #my things #headcanon #i guess?#long post #not!fic #*tosses this into the void*

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tearswillbthechaser4urwine · 3 months

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Cant believe i havent posted my tammie clay face plush i made yet omfg IGNORE HOW ROUGH HER FACE LOOKS PLEASE THINGS KEPT GOING WRONG WHEN I WAS MAKING HER😭

#she may look a lil crusty but i still adore her #HER AND TEENY TINY WENDELL HHRFHRF😭💞#she actually has lil false eyelashes on but they are almost imposible to see😭#country bear jamboree #tammie and her incredibly short husband💖

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gemini-forest · 4 months

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Tammie isn't tiny, Eliot's just tall. He's a good big bro.

Last art thing I'll be posting before I go on my break. Probably gonna be a good 2 weeks at most.

I also wanna say thank you to everyone who showed their support from the situation relating to the harassment. I kept quiet 'bout it because I didn't want to start shit and just wanted to deal with it privately.

I'm just glad this year is ending on a good note and so much weight has been taken off my shoulders.

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #unpause rise of the tmnt #save rottmnt #rise movie #rise of teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt oc #rottmnt eliot moss #eliot moss

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hungermakesmonsters · 6 months

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Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Two

Plot summary : When your friend interviews for a position at Anvil, you have a chance encounter with Billy Russo. He takes you for coffee and, by the time you’re done , Billy decides he’s anything but done with you.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Chapter Rating : this one is pretty PG

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Nothing in this chapter is warning worthy, there’s a little tiny bit of sex talk but that’s it. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : ~2.8k

A/N : this chapter happens in the days after chapter one. Thank you so much to everyone who read and liked the last chapter, it really means the world to me!

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

You didn’t have the nerve to tell Tammy that you’d rejected Billy’s advances and that she’d probably not get the job because of you. You let her hold onto the idea that you’d been doing something good for her, instead of something stupid for you. The whole thing reminded you of why you’d become friends with her in the first place; when Tammy was being nice to you, when she wasn’t making petulant demands, she could be great to be around.

But, she kept asking when your date with Billy was and by the third day of waiting to hear about the job, you were taking extra deliveries just to avoid the apartment. You knew you’d have to tell her sooner rather than later, but you really were hoping it would be later, at least after you’d figured out a way to explain to her that you’d cost her a job because you’d told Billy Russo no.

And when she came into the den screeching and clutching her phone? You thought she finally knew the truth and were ready to give her the apology that you’d spent the last few days trying to practise.

“I got the fucking job!” She squealed, jumping up onto the sofa beside you.

“You - what?” It took a moment to hear her over the screeching and - no, surely Billy hadn’t given her a job just as a way of getting to you. He was a businessman, he wouldn’t do something so dumb just to get you into bed.

After the initial excitement fizzled out, Tammy dropped onto the sofa to sit beside you. “I start on Monday! I can’t believe I’m finally going to get my parents off my back.”

“I thought you didn’t even want the job at Anvil? Before the interview you said it sounded boring.”

“That was until I saw the guys that work there, I mean, it’s literally a building full of hotties. And I can still do auditions in the evenings and on weekends. Besides, most people work crappy jobs before they get famous.” To your surprise she was being very mature about the whole thing, though you weren’t sure how she’d deal with actually working a nine-to-five job.

“Well, I’m happy for you.” You forced a smile because you were happy, even if you weren’t sure that it wasn’t all going to fall apart when Billy realised he was never going to convince you to go to dinner with him

“Okay but you’re going to have to promise me you won’t fuck this up for me.”

“How would I even -”

“I get it, Billy Russo is hot, but I know what you’re like with guys...”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” You knew exactly what she meant, and that was the worst part. Tammy had tried, and failed, in the past to set you up, to put you on dating apps, and play wingman for her during double dates, and every time it had ended badly.

“Just don’t go leading him on and then ghosting or whatever it is you normally do to guys. I don’t need you pissing off my new boss.”

“I’ll try really hard not to, Tammy.” If she noticed you were being sarcastic, she didn’t seem to care.

It wasn’t long before she disappeared off to celebrate with her friends, leaving you alone in the apartment, leaving you to try and figure out what was going on. As much as Tammy was - well, let’s just say she had certain skills that would be helpful in a secretarial position, you just couldn’t figure out why she’d been given the job.

Billy Russo wasn’t an idiot, that much you were certain of; he wouldn’t hire Tammy just because of you. In fact, he probably wasn’t even involved in the hiring process. You were overthinking it. And, ultimately, it didn’t even matter because you weren’t going to see him again.

You weren’t going anywhere near the Anvil building ever again.

But that didn’t stop you from opening your laptop and Googling his name.

It felt like an invasion of privacy, reading through articles about Anvil’s financial successes, about the heroic ex-Marine who’d built the company from nothing and now gave so much back to his fellow veterans. Your stomach knotted at every photo taken at some gala or corporate event where he had some stunning woman hanging off his arm (women who, upon reading the image captions were revealed to be leaders in their fields; lawyers, models, psychiatrists, and even a surgeon). Jealousy had you closing your laptop, and self-loathing had you making a promise to yourself to stay away from Billy Russo and Anvil.

But it wasn’t that simple. You kept thinking about his smile, the way his dark eyes had looked at you like he wanted nothing more than to take you apart piece by piece, and the way his laugh had felt like the rarest sound you could draw from him. Most of all, you kept thinking about the kiss, playing it over and over. Sometimes you even found yourself wishing that you’d just said yes - what was the worst that could have happened?

(No, no, you didn’t want to think about that.)

You couldn’t stop yourself from going back to the Google search, over and over again, just to look at him. There was just something about him, something that made you feel like a ridiculous teenager with a crush, but every time you looked at his eyes, it did something to you; it made you want something you knew you couldn’t have.

You needed to stay away from him.

But Tammy had other plans.

Her first day of work, the following Monday, she’d begged you to drop her off. Then, once you were there, she’d demanded that you help her carry her things to the door, using the reasoning that she had taken the job for you as well as her, so you could keep the apartment that you both loved so much.

All you wanted to do was get out of there as quickly as possible, so the moment Tammy was by the door you were pushing the box into her arms and stepping away, all the while telling her that you couldn’t pick her up later because of work. Tammy tried to complain, tried to talk over you, but you didn’t stop; you were going to get as far away from that building as quickly as possible. Ignoring her frustration, you shouted good luck over your shoulder and started back towards your car.

Only, there was a surprise waiting for you when you got there.

“I like your strategy; in and out before anyone can notice you.” Billy smirked, his arms folded across his chest as he leaned against the driver’s side door of your car.

“Well, clearly it didn’t work...” you answered awkwardly, stopping a few feet away from him, out of his reach.

“It’s hard to pull off when you’re dealing with a Recon Marine,” he laughed, still smirking that smirk that looked so good on him. “I hoped we’d run into each other again.”

“It’s hardly running into each other when you own the building and you know what my car looks like,” you shrugged and Billy’s smile waivered a little. Your stomach knotted at the sight, at the way his playful smile dimmed to something that seemed almost forced. He took a breath, unfolded his arms and stood away from your car.

“Look, I just wanted to talk - to apologise - I guess I was a little heavy-handed last time,” the words were enough of a distraction that he managed to take a couple of steps towards you. “I just - I’m not very good at...” he let out an awkward laugh and threw his arms out in a shrug, not finishing the thought.

“Asking women out?” You offered with an uncomfortable huff of laughter. “I don’t believe that.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Why not?” And, just like that, you were being pulled into another one of his little games.

You could have walked around him, could have told him that you needed to go, but you didn’t. The truth was, that you enjoyed it, you liked that playful side of him, even though it wasn’t fair of you to indulge him when you knew you’d still have the same answer for him at the end of all this.

“Because you’re - you.” And that was all the answer you could offer him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Billy laughed and your cheeks started to warm again.

“You don’t exactly strike me as the type of guy who struggles to get dates?” He remained silent, a questioning look on his face; he wanted you to say what you both knew you were thinking. “You know, the whole tall, dark, and handsome thing you’ve got going on...”

“And you think that makes it easier for me?” His smile was back, that playful glint in his eye that you just couldn’t seem to say no to.

“Doesn’t it?”

“Well, you said no, didn’t you?”

Shit. You’d walked yourself into a trap.

“Not because of you - or, I mean, not because of anything you did. I just don’t date.” You started to play with the cuff of your hoodie, not sure what else you were supposed to say to him.

“What if it wasn’t a date? What if it was just two people going for dinner?”

“I think it’s a bit late for just dinner, Billy.”

“‘cause I kissed you?” your gaze dropped, cheeks burning hotter. “I shouldn’t have, I should’ve waited, I just - I have poor impulse control when it comes to things I want.”

You didn’t say anything - what could you even say to any of that?

“What if it wasn’t dinner?”

“Billy...” you sighed.

“Is it really so bad that I want to spend some time with you? Get to know you a little?”

Was it? The terrifying thing was the fact that he almost had you convinced, almost had you relenting and agreeing with him.

“I’m not really worth knowing,” you shrugged, “I’m nothing special, Billy. I’m just a bike messenger who spends most of her time driving her roommate around.”

“I like talking to you, you make me laugh,” Billy shrugged. “And I think you are worth knowing, and I don’t give a shit if you’re a bike messenger or a brain surgeon, it doesn’t change anything.”

“Right, one of New York's most eligible bachelors taking a bike messenger out to dinner, I can just picture it,” an embarrassing snort of laughter escaped you, “probably couldn’t take me to any of the fancy places that you’re used to, so what does that leave? Pizza Hut or Five Guys?”

“‘I’ll take you for pizza if that’s what you want. We could go right now?”

“Billy, it’s eight-thirty in the morning, I’m pretty sure Pizza Hut isn’t open yet.” You laughed, despite the feeling that you’d been letting this play out for far too long now.

“I’m sure we could find a way to kill some time until it opens?”

“Oh really?” You shot him a look, eyebrows raised, very unimpressed with what you thought he was implying.

“Hey, I meant go get a coffee or something, get your mind out of the gutter.” He grinned and you couldn’t help but laugh again.

“I’d just be wasting your time.”

“I don’t think I’d consider any time spent with you a waste,” he retorted without even missing a beat.

“You don’t even know me.”

“I don’t, but I want to.”

“Why?” Why was he being so persistent? What did he think he was going to get from you?

“Why does anyone get to know anyone?”

“I don’t know.” And you really didn’t, that was the saddest part of all. “I’m not your type.”

“And what do you think my type is?” He asked, barely managing to hold back a laugh.

“Doctors, lawyers, psychiatrists - women who make at least six figures a year?” You realised far too late what you’d given away. “Women whose wardrobes cost more than I’ll make in my lifetime?”

“Did you Google me?” Billy asked, not even trying to hold back the smirk.

“N-no, I just - it came up when I was researching the job for Tammy.”

You fell silent and, for a few moments, so did Billy, long enough for it to make things feel all the more awkward when he finally spoke again.

“I’m not a bad guy, y’know.”

You looked at him, confused, not sure what he meant. Your fingers kept picking at the stitching on your cuff, and Billy seemed to notice.

“I’m making you uncomfortable.” He was, but you hated that he knew it. It wasn’t so much him that was the issue, it was you, it was all the messed up things in your past that made you the way you were.

“I don’t think you’re a bad guy, Billy." You said, not wanting to address whether or not he was making you uncomfortable because it was less him and more the general situation.

"Then let me prove it to you." You didn’t respond. “Just give me one night.”

“And, what? I’m supposed to fall madly in love with you?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

“Not that. I don’t - love isn’t a thing I’m capable of, it’s not something I’m interested in.” He explained, like it was such a simple and ordinary thing.

“Then why waste a night together if you don’t even want it to go anywhere?”

“There are plenty of other places it could go. I could show you the best night of your life and, at the end of it, if you wanted to walk away from me, you could.” Billy shrugged.

“So you just want sex? There are easier ways to get laid, Billy.” You told him with an awkward sort of laugh.

“I don’t want easy, I want you.” Normally you’d laugh at a line like that, but the way he was looking at you, the way he looked like he was barely holding back from showing you just what he meant right there in the parking lot kept you silent. “Tell me you haven't thought about it, that you’re not thinking about it right now; how it’d feel to spend the night with me inside you.”

You bit your lip, giving away far more than you wanted to.

Yes, you’d thought about it - how could you not?

“Billy...” you sounded almost breathless and that really didn’t help the point you were trying to make.

“I can make you feel things you’ve never felt before.” The way he said it made you want it, made you want things that you knew you shouldn’t.

“So, you’d fuck me then leave me?”

“Not if you didn’t want that.” He took the slightest step forwards and you couldn’t bring yourself to recoil.

“But you said -”

“I said I wasn’t interested in love, that doesn’t mean that it has to be a one and done thing, if you don’t want it to be.” Billy offered like this was some business deal and you were negotiating the terms. You could see why Anvil was so successful with him in charge.

“Fuck buddies then? Until - what? - you get bored of me?” You didn’t even know why you were encouraging him, why you were playing his game and letting the conversation drag on.

“Or you get bored of me,” Billy shrugged. “Admit it, you’re thinking about it. You’re thinking about what it’d be like to fuck me.”

“Maybe I am, but that doesn’t change anything. I don’t date and I don’t think sleeping with you would do either of us any good.”

He waited a moment before dropping; “was the last guy really that bad?”

And, just like that, everything seemed to change.

“What?” It was obvious though, wasn’t it? You should have been surprised that he hadn’t put it together sooner; you didn’t date because your ex had been a real piece of shit to you. A moment later, you shook your head. “It’s not - I don’t like to talk about it...”

You steeled yourself for what came next; the endless questions, trying to figure out what had happened to you and just how bad it was, how he could fix you. Only, it never came. He didn’t push, didn’t try to convince you that he was better than whoever might have hurt you. Instead, he seemed resigned, like he knew he couldn’t do any of that.

“I’m sorry,” he offered softly, “I’ll leave you alone.”

And, just like that Billy seemed to give up, his smile almost completely gone, replaced by a look that you didn’t want to think about. It wasn’t quite pity, but instead an uncomfortable compassion, an almost understanding. Someone had hurt him too, you realised. You frowned, frozen in place as he closed the distance between you and gently pressed his lips to your cheek.

“You know where to find me if you ever change your mind.”

As he pulled away from you, your breath caught in your chest, but you didn’t dare watch as he walked away from you. It was too dangerous, you knew you’d say something, knew you’d call him back.

CHAPTER THREE

END NOTE : so the first two chapters were mostly set up, from next chapter onwards things will actually start to go somewhere. From this point on, things will get smutty and dark. The next three chapters are mostly done and I'll probably start scheduling chapters to post on the weekends going forwards.

Thanks for reading, I hope you have a wonderful day!

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #the punisher #billy russo fanfic #billy russo x female reader #ben barnes #cmiyc ff

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unfinishedslurs · 1 year

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stobin kidnapped- no upsidedown

Robin doesn’t know why she comes out to Steve Harrington of all people.

It could be the drugs. It could be the way he’s been pretty good-natured about her ribbing all summer. It could be the fact that they’ve bonded, painfully and irreversibly, in the last 24 hours in a way she never has with anyone else and hopefully never will. It could be that she’s almost certainly going to die in this tiny, awful basement, and Steve fucking Harrington’s shitty homophobic spiel won’t matter because they’ll be dead.

Tammy Thompson won’t matter, either. She’ll never, ever look at Robin now. Probably won’t even think about her as she cries over Steve Harrington’s tragic fate.

“Have you ever been in love?”

They’re pressed back to back next to the hole that serves as their toilet, even if they’re not tied together that way anymore. Something about being able to see from all angles is comforting. No surprises.

It also means she doesn’t have to see Steve’s face when he tells her how amazing this new girl is.

“Robin?” He asks when she doesn’t respond. “You OD on me?”

“I’m alive,” she confirms. Unfortunately.

Nope, too soon to be making jokes about wishing she were dead when there’s a high possibility she ends up dead before she gets out of here.

Steve’s presence leaves her back, and she almost panics before she realizes he’s scooting backwards until he can meet her eye. She scoots back until her back hits the wall, and he does the same.

“This floor’s disgusting.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve already got a bunch of blood and puke on my shirt, so…” he points out. “What do you think?”

“About?”

“This girl.” Why are his eyes so big? Is it the drugs in her system making her hallucinate again? Some great, cosmic consequence for being the kind of girl who can’t fall in love with this apparently amazing guy who protected her the best he could? She feels like she’s going to vomit again.

Eventually their singing dies down, and they exist in comfortable silence for a moment.

It’s Steve who breaks it. “You know Jonathan Byers?”

“Didn’t he punch you and steal your girl?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I lied.”

“About what?”

“Only ever having been in love with Nancy.”

She blinks at him, squinting in concentration until he shifts uncomfortably and she gasps. “No,” she says.

“‘No’ what?”

“You were not in love with Jonathan Byers.”

“Okay, yeah, I wasn’t in love with him,” he protests, squirming. “But, like, he’s cool, right?”

“No!” She exclaims. “No, he’s not cool, Steve. I can’t believe you made fun of me for Tammy, at least she didn’t give me a concussion!”

“I deserved that concussion,” he protests. “Besides, it was a tiny one! That was, like, nothing compared to what Billy gave me.” Or the one he probably has right now, but neither of them point that out.

“He stole your girlfriend.”

“Why do you keep saying that? There was no stealing anything. Nancy’s a human being, with, like, agency and shit.”

“Didn’t he take naked pictures of you guys?”

“What?” He sounds alarmed. “Is that what you heard?”

“Did he not?”

“Well…”

She laughs, disbelieving.

“He apologized!” He says. “And he’ll never do it again, and I broke his camera for it anyway, so I kind of got retribution. Maybe too much retribution. I cannot overstate how much I deserved that beat down, I was an asshole to him.”

“God, you are not helping your case at all,” she giggles. He pouts at her, until he starts giggling too, and then they’re both laughing their asses off on the shitty basement floor until they lose their breath.

They get lucky, she’s told while they’re in the hospital for smoke inhalation and a dozen other things. They were only in that basement for 24 hours until the police (re: Dustin and Erica) found them. It felt like a lifetime.

She gets to sign out after six hours. Steve has to stay for two days.

The nurses have to practically boot her out the door before she’ll leave his side.

“I’m fine, Rob,” he says, rolling his eyes. “I’ve had worse.”

“I sure hope not!” The nurse exclaims as she’s checking over the monitor. “Young man, you are suffering from a Grade 3 concussion, bruised and broken ribs, smoke inhalation, multiple lacerations—“

“Jesus, okay, we get it!”

She gives him a scathing look before sweeping out of the room. Robin raises her eyebrows. “You’re fine, huh?”

The look he gives her could kill a lesser man. “Go home, Robin.”

“I’m staying the night.”

“You’re definitely not doing that.”

#stobin #no upside down #stobin kidnapped-no upsidedown au #steve harrington #robin buckley #sorry to jonathan for the slander i promise i love you #jonathan was steve's bisexual awakening truthing #stranger things fanfic #season 3 au

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where-dreams-dwell · 6 months

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It’s almost like the Usher children *knew* they weren’t going to live long and so they intentially left no marks upon the world.

Camille’s speech about how none of the kids actually makes or does anything is so startling: here is a group of people given all the opportunities and access money can buy, all of whom have had this their entire adult life, and they haven’t used it to create or build anything.

You can almost sense Roderiks disappointment in them, in his speech to Perry. He has this hyper focus on what his ‘investment’ money will fund, and says that ‘Ushers change the world’. But outside of himself and Madeline, not one of them has.

Frederick took the money, if he ever got any, and probably funnelled it back into his house or the company. By the looks of it he doesn’t have anything other than his family and his job, so there’s nothing for Roderick to invest in.

Tammy funnelled the money into a lifestyle brand, but one that wouldn’t have her at the front and centre. She scathingly reveals to Bill that she selected him to be her husband based upon his brand and marketability, showing she was ready to create this new empire but with her pulling strings in the shadows. From the outside it probably looks like she hasn’t created anything at all and that it’s all Bill, using his wife’s money. On top of this, the running gag of her storyline is that her brand and ideas aren’t even original, but are ripped off of Goop. So she hasn’t made anything new, and if Goldbug has any impact at all it will be no different to another more successful, more well know product. Hardly ‘changing the world’.

Victorine has some medial training but she looks to be a supporting role to her partner within their clinic, in which Al is the talented surgeon who people come to see and Victorine is a kind of silent partner. So she decided to go into medical devices or smart medical tech, but she relies upon the ideas and skills of others. As Camille said ‘the mesh is the surgeons, that’s why she’s fucking the surgeon’. And her medical knowledge seems to be limited if she thinks just her word and some money will move their experiments into human trials. So she also hasn’t ‘changed the world’ she’s just found someone else who was trying to and co-op-ed their ideas. You could even argue she poisoned those ideas, as Al mentions that the pain medication Victorine has been supplying looks like street drugs and wouldn’t stand up in any medical paper or research study.

Camille is, like she said, spinning furiously and going nowhere. She looks skilled in her field (from the analysis scenes we get, and Madeleine’s signing off on her PR analysis post Perry’s death) but she works from the shadows and hasn’t ‘created’ anything that wasn’t there before. There have been PR spin doctors before and there will be more to come; Camille offers nothing new ans hasn’t ‘changed the world’ in any measurable way. From what little we see of her work she hasn’t recreated a PR agency, hasn’t trained up other spin doctors under her, hasn’t created a brand or company which will outlast her. She leaves nothing behind to show what her skills or talents were.

Leo is shot down quickly when he claims he makes games: he doesn’t, he gives money to people who do. So he too will leave little to nothing behind when he’s gone. His references to past boyfriends show no long lasting relationships in his life and he has no other hobbies or pursuits we know of. Like Camille he hasn’t created a company to help with game design, hasn’t trained up others within this field he claims as his own. Even with the gaming ‘world’ it sounds like he changed very little. Fredrick’s throw away comments about Leo’s flat reveal that Leo hadn’t even had input in the decoration or style of his own home: he just latches onto the styles, ideas, aesthetic of his current boyfriend and goes with their ideas and plans. It’s such a small tiny thing but he truly has no original ideas in any aspect of his life.

And finally Perry, who’s desperate for that start up money but clearly has no plans or ideas on how to use it. He’s had a year and his main idea is an exclusive whisky bar. Even this idea, for all its crude intentions, shows his lack of vision: he doesn’t understand that to get the reputation he claims his bars would have will take time. You don’t just ‘create’ a consequent free bar celebrating decadence and privilege overnight. Reputations take time and as Madeline asks ‘what will be different about this one’ to draw people in to begin with? Studio 54 (which he compares his club to). only operated for 3 years before closing: not the smartest inclusion in an investment pitch.

To be fair to Perry though, looking at what the other siblings did or didn’t do with their loan money it seems a bit unfair that his ‘Blow job whiskey bar’ was shot down so decisively and cruelty. Assuredly Leo’s ‘video game studio for just myself’, Camille’s ‘PR agency just for me with my two assistants’, Victorines ‘medical training and clinic where I help out other surgeons’, Tammys ‘subscription lifestyle brand ripped off from a celebrity’ and Fredrick’s ‘I’d just like to work with you Dad’ were all clearly given the green light. But Perry apparently wasn’t good enough. Maybe this was a reaction to Roderick getting the news he was dying as so he wanted Perrys investment at least to actually change something, but still. He might as well give him the money either way at that point.

And I think it’s probably intended as a commentary on the ultra wealthy. Like of course people with more money than most counties have no plans to leave anything for the next generation. They have achieved their high levels of success by being solely focused upon themselves and so are honestly incapable of considering others. They are solely interested in enjoying the life they are currently living and why strain themselves to fight and build something when they don’t have to?

But it also works so well as a supernatural legacy and ironic conclusion to Roderick’s deal: he agreed that none of his bloodline would outlive him, and so none of them built anything that would.

#the fall of the house of usher #spoilers #mike flanagan #tfothou #legacy #ultra wealthy

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