#YOU FIRE OFF MISSILES 'CAUSE YOU HATE YOURSELF!!!! BUT DO YOU KNOW!!! YOU'RE DEMOLISHING ME!!!

[gayofthefae]

"What if she doesn't need me anymore? - I keep telling myself that but...I don't believe it."

"I told myself they needed me, but that wasn't true. I needed them. I needed them."

It almost went somewhere good. It almost went somewhere forwards. Goddamnit, Will.

[loud-heartbeats]

Thinking about “I love you it’s ruining my life you don’t get to tell me about sad am I allowed to cry old habits die screaming”

The Black Dog

and "Is it insensitive for me to say 'get your shit together'?, so I can love you" / "Is it really your anxiety that stops you from giving me everything? or do you just not want to?"

[rachel-bloom]

renegade is such a call out in itself like i know most people will relate it to partners or parents maybe but everytime i look into the mirror i think "is it insensitive for me to say get your shit together so i can love you!!!!!!!!!"

[strongheartneteyam]

Get your shit together so I can love you.

Pairing: human!jake sully x female!human!reader

CW: angsty, so angsty, established relationship, MIGHT BE TRIGGERING for some audiences, disabled person feeling insecure about their body, fluff, crying, yelling, cursing, sexual language, hurt, comfort, sexual content, mentions of sexual fluids, foreplay, mentions of fingering, jake touching reader's pussy. Please, tell me if I'm missing something 🥲

Author's note: This AU is set on 2009. Jake is just a regular 24 year old former marine who ended up losing the movement of his legs permanently after an unfortunate accident that happened while he was fighting for his country, amidst a terrible, unforgiving war. The reader is a 21 year old regular human girl. There is no sci-fi or aliens involved. I totally understand if it's not your cup of tea as it's almost not canon at all to the Avatar Universe. I guess I just kept most stuff canon to Jake as a character. As I said, it's an AU. Just call me Miss Marvel and call this a version of Jake that exists somewhere in the wide multiverse 😂 guys I'm way too sleepy and exhausted that I'm starting to sound a bit drunk... gonna shut my piehole up now. I hope you guys like it. ✨ I need to sleep ughhh ✨

Not proofread. Sorry, my babies, momma is always too tired n running low on time.

❃

I tapped on your window on your darkest night

The shape of you was jagged and weak

There was nowhere for me to stay, but I stayed anyway

You fire off missiles 'cause you hate yourself

But do you know you're demolishing me?

And then you squeeze my hand as I'm about to leave

Renegade (Big Red Machine feat Taylor Swift)

❃

You walked to your boyfriend's house, watching the starry dark sky above. It was a full moon night, its pale light bathing your skin as you thought about how you missed Jake. You had just gotten back from a family trip yesterday and hadn't had time to go over to Jake's house to see him yet. You were so anxious to see his face again that you didn't even bother to call him to let him know you were about to come over.

When you got there, as soon as you opened the door with the copy of the keys Jake had given to you, you saw a miserable looking man sitting on a wheelchair, staring at the wall, eating a burger and fries and drinking beer. You swore to God one day you'd slap his hand and tell him to eat healthier. He ate junk food and drank way too much. His face was grumpy and a little sad at the same time. But it was your Jake. It didn't matter to you that he always looked like he was done with everything, he was so freaking handsome and charming, so, you could get past his moodiness. At the end of the day, you loved him so very deeply it made you feel like there was not enough space for so much love inside your body.

"Hey, babyyy!" You say, locking the door behind you "Sorry for not calling before coming over. I'm gonna stay the night, okay? I missed you so much..." You walked towards Jake and kissed his warm cheek, leaving the keys on a piece of furniture nearby

"Hi, baby. I missed you like crazy. I'm so glad my girlfriend is back here with me." He smiled at you. That was the first time he smiled, in a truly happy way, that night. You were the light of his life, he always felt better when you were around. He had missed you like a mad man, especially at night, when he looked at pictures of you/the both of you together on his black laptop. "And I gave you the keys for a reason. No need to say sorry. It's not like I go out on Wednesday evenings anyway.. Or any night of the week" He laughed in sarcasm. "I'm always here at this time." You laughed a bit and he took another bite of his burger

"I'm gonna take a quick shower, ok? Be right back" you said loudly as you walked to the bathroom

The day you and Jake had decided to be in a serious relationship, after you let the words "I love you" slip off of your mouth, by accident (you didn't even know if he crushed back on you, let alone reciprocating your feelings), Jake was so insecure, thinking you were just playing him, that it took him one week after that happened to finally say "I love you" back. You were getting sadder and more impatient as time passed. When he finally did, it was through texting. When you saw the message in your cellphone screen, your heart raced like a wild horse in a big forest.

ত

Later that night, you and Jake were cuddling, half sitting, half laying on the couch. Jake watched a movie on the television as you tried to read a book. But your attention span was equal to zero. You felt your boyfriend's warmth beneath your body, so comforting, so inviting. You wanted him so bad. You two had been together for almost one year and no sex had ever happened. You were starting to think that maybe he didn't find you that attractive, after all. That thought was like a rusted knife digging into your heart.

You closed your book since you couldn't go past the same sentence you were reading and re-reading all over again, too many times.

You moved your body from where it was and sat on top of Jake's legs, straddling his lap, taking him by surprise. He looked at you wondering why you suddenly gave up on your book if you had been bugging him for months about how bad you wanted to read it, but, you preferred reading a physical copy, as you told him, so he bought a copy for you that he found on sale just so you could stop talking to him about the same thing over and over. But he was actually just kidding, inside his own mind. He bought it for you because he knew you were gonna get really excited, just like a little child, and thank him by showering him with kisses. He loved being kissed by his pretty girlfriend.

"The book wasn't interesting enough, babe? Weren't you dying to read it?" He chuckled and then smiled, placing his big, warm hands on your thighs, making the small, thin hairs of that part of your body stand on end

"I just can't concentrate right now. That's all..."

"Is everything alright?" He noticed the angst in your expression

"Jake... We've been together for almost one year now, and... we haven't had sex yet. Don't you... don't you feel the need to do it with me? Do you still feel attracted to me? Why do you never try to initiate anything other than kisses and caresses? You've never even tried to touch my boobs... and you told me you loved them, over texting"

"Wait, slow down a bit" Jake asked of you and you stopped to breathe a little "Of course I feel attracted to you." He put a small lock of your hair behind your ear, so he could see your beautiful face better "I want you so bad... so fucking bad, you got no idea, girl. You drive me insane, my girl. I can't resist you when you're sitting on my lap like this" He caressed your face softly, light blue eyes staring at your own

"Then don't. Don't resist me. You don't have to. You just have to let me kiss you and touch you and show you how wet you make me, without even doing anything crazy, just by touching my skin like this and letting me sit on your lap."

"Baby, I...I can't" Jake looked down, sadness clouding his beautiful face. You hated to see your boyfriend like that. Why didn't he realize he didn't need to be so insecure? You loved him, all of him. No matter how badly he always talked about his legs or the fact that he couldn't do even basic day to day activities easily, because of his disability, you didn't care. You loved him. Freaking loved him to death.

"Why not?!" You were desperate for an explanation

"I could never be all you need. I wish I could but that's wishful thinking. Don't fool yourself, (y/n)."

Your eyes got filled with tears and you felt a lump forming in your throat. It was like your chest was sore, bruised from his harsh words.

"You are all that I want! All that I need, Jake! Why can't-"

"Don't make it harder than it already is, (y/n)!" The blonde guy interrupted you, his words colder than ice, burning your skin, already so sensitive from from taking all the hurt Jake was causing you by not letting you just simply love him right, be his girlfriend... "Get off me, please." So freezing cold...

You were a crying mess already, so, you felt so weak you just obeyed him and stood up, leaving him free from your body. Jake transferred himself from the couch to his wheelchair as fast as he could. He then started wheeling himself away from where you were

"Please...Please!" You say, chasing your crazy boyfriend like an idiot, while he moves his wheelchair fast towards his small room "stop being so insecure and just lemme love you." Jake stops, his freckled pale arms turning the wheels around so he could look at you

"Why do you insist on being tied down to a cripple?! Don't you get it?! You are so, so damn beautiful, (y/n). Your smile, your hair, your body... Jesus, your fucking body... You're so hot. You deserve... a man who can give you all that a relationship can offer. I can't be that man. I will never be him. I'm sorry you don't get it, but it's time for you to move on!!!" He yelled. You've never seen Jake so angry. His face was red, his eyes were gleaming, tears starting to roll down his face. He felt like his heart was breaking in a billion little pieces. He'd rather go through war, become traumatized and then have his spine injured all over again, because, honestly, it would hurt him less than what he was doing to you right now. But he knew he had to do it. "I love my (y/n) so much, I always will. But she should be happy, free from me." He thought

"Stop running away from me, Jacob Sully!" You ordered, as soon as you catch up to Jake, getting inside his room, your breath heavier than normal "I'm warning you, I will take you in my arms, no matter if you say you're too heavy, and I will lay you on this bed, against your will, if that's what I need to do so you will stop pushing me away! And don't ever call yourself a "cripple" again! I swear to God, you're testing me tonight! I won't let you speak like that about yourself. Never again! Do you understand me?!" You almost screamed

Jake sighed heavily, in defeat. With both arms, he started to support himself on his wheelchair, moving his body to the bed.

One he was settled there, sitting down with his back against the cushioned bed frame, he spoke: "Baby, I'm sorry for yelling at you like that... it was wrong. You don't deserve that. Please, forgive me." Looking at you with those eyes he had you on your knees, every single time.

"It's okay..." You looked hurt but your forgave him. You wanted to try and forget that had ever happened.

"I love you... so much."

You gazed at him and felt a need to comfort him

You sat on his bed, beside him and held his hand. After some time, you and Jake were cuddling, you sitting on his lap. He brought his mouth to yours and kissed your lips. You missed his kisses so much that you got wet so easily, just like a virgin would.

Jake grabbed the back of your head with care and deepened the kiss, using his tongue to massage yours. The way he kissed you was leaving your lips slicked with his saliva. You moaned and he held tight on to your waist, heavy breathing, his warm breath colliding with your own, the two of you getting drunk on each other. His lips were crushing against yours and that felt so amazing.

Out of nowhere, he stopped the kiss and when you tried to kiss him again he gently pushed you away, seeming uncomfortable.

"I gotta stop, baby... I can't pleasure you more than this..." he looked defeated

"Of course you can. You have fingers and a mouth, don't you? Then put them to use, baby. Your girl is begging you to pleasure her. Don't you want to help me out a bit?" You started to kiss his neck gently but sloppy. You breathed his scent in. It was so familiar, so comforting to you. He smelled like home. Home, for you, was wherever Jake was, right by your side.

Jake was starting to slowly give in and he let out a breathy moan. You felt happiness creeping in your head, your heart beating faster.

Jake did something that in his mind, was so damn bold. He dared to touch you in a very intimate way - he was as nervous as a teenager having his first sexual experience - moving his hand from the bed sheet until it got to your entrance. Jake's breath faltered as he touched your coated folds gently, his chest tightening while he looked at your face. His light brows furrowing, his demons still trying to convince him that you could not be turned on because of him.

"Sweetheart, you're so soft... just so... so wet." He was getting shaky, aroused as hell, feeling how wet you were for him

He was finally ready to just relax and enjoy the moment, as he touched your coated pussy.

"Wait a bit, will ya?" You ask, getting off his lap, standing on your feet and then stripping down to him. Your clothes were laying on the floor, as you felt a little shy but excited to see his reaction to seeing your naked body for the first time.

"Fuck, my baby. How did I get so lucky? Your body is so fucking perfect...." He put his hand up in the air, towards your own hands and you grabbed it and let him sit you back on his lap.

Jake started to touch your breasts softly, his mouth slightly open, desire scorching his insides. Your skin burned so good beneath his fingers. Then, he placed his big fingers on your slit

"God, this fucking wet pussy..." he was having trouble breathing but he loved the way you messed with his head

"I'm all yours, baby. Please, just let go and make love to me. I need you so bad it hurts me physically." You begged him to put an end to your misery

"Is that what my babygirl really wants?" He murmured, his voice low and sexy, ringing on your ears

"Yes, my love. Please... I'm so wet, Jake... only for you, my baby." You felt his fingers touching your pussy and your body became limp

"I love your pussy, baby. So velvety, warm and juicy. Can't wait to slide my fingers inside of you over and over again until you're all sweaty and whimpering"

❃

[lipslikethegardensofbabylon]

thinking about how Taylor started off the “am I allowed to cry?” bargaining chapter with “my knuckles were bruised like violets”… all I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier… it's hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound… and I cut off my nose just to spite my face and hate my reflection for years and years… the battle's in your hands now but I would lay my armor down if you'd say you'd rather love than fight… you fire off missiles 'cause you hate yourself but do you know you're demolishing me? and then you squeeze my hand as I'm about to leave

[youreonyourownkid]

you fire off missiles 'cause you hate yourself but do you know you're demolishing me and then you squeeze my hand as i'm about to leave → all that bloodshed crimson clover uh huh the bombs were close and my hand was the one you reached for all throughout the great war

[youareinlove]

Renegade is the blue print to understanding TTPD and I am not joking. Everything about it explains how she went from Reputation/Lover to TTPD.

You fire off missiles 'cause you hate yourself But do you know you're demolishing me?

And people dare say she left Joe because he was depressed. Nope, she tried to help him even when it was demolishing her.

yeah, it’s sisters with “how much sad did you think i had in me” and “how long could we be a sad song” and “fighting in only your army frontlines don’t you ignore me” and “pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away” and

[withlovewriting]

All I Ever Knew, Only You 18: The Graduate

Chapter Eighteen.

I tapped on your window on your darkest night, The shape of you was jagged and weak, There was nowhere for me to stay, but I stayed anyway, You fire off missiles 'cause you hate yourself, But do you know, you're demolishing me? And then you squeeze my hand as I'm about to leave, Are you really gonna talk about timing in times like these? And let all your damage, damage me? And carry your baggage up my street, And make me your future history, it's time, You've come along way, open the blinds, let me see your face, You wouldn't be the first renegade to need somebody.

Summary: Hawkins was your typical quaint, mid-western town where nothing ever happened. People were born here, lived their entire lives within the town limits, and eventually died here, peacefully in their sleep. But one cold November evening in 1983 would change everything.

Despite a child with psychokinetic abilities and ravenous monsters that lacked faces, stranger things had definitely happened in the small town in Indiana. One of them being your reluctant and slightly imposed friendship with Hawkins High’s own King Bee, Steve Harrington.

Characters: Steve Harrington x Non-descriptive F!Reader (eventual)

Words: 8,024

Chapter Warnings: Underage drinking, explicit language, fluff, allusions to cheating (not main character related), violence, protective-but-still-an-idiot!Steve, mentions of vomitting.

Series Warnings: Strong language, mentions of underage drinking, mentions of drug use, canon-typical violence, mentions of alcohol abuse, mentions of possible mental health disorders, child abuse, slow burn, kinda enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, I like to call it ‘two idiots who begrudgingly befriend each other only to realize… ‘wait a damn minute…’, eventual sexual content, canon-typical time-period bullshit. 18+. Minors DNI.

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter: COMING SOON

Taglist: @kezibear

Chapter Eighteen: The Graduate

A bead of sweat trickled down your temple, the motion of wiping it away both autonomous yet otiose, since another would replace it soon enough. It was only early June, but the Mid-west summer was back with a vengeance this year.

“How long is this gonna take?” Mike huffed, pushing his ever-growing hair out of his face, “It’s as hot as Satan’s ass crack out here.”

The boy had been scowling since he’d clambered into your car and immediately noticed the lack of air-con.

Condensation from your bottled water dripped down your hand as you passed the boy the drink, knowing that although it wouldn’t do much to cool him down, at least if he was drinking he couldn’t be complaining at the same time.

“They just called his name,” Lucas noted, catching a glimpse of the boy from his elevated seat on the bleachers as your small group — bar Mike — stood, applauding and hollering the older boy’s name.

The noise caught Steve’s attention as he shook Principal Higgins’ hand, a beaming smile stretching across his face as he sauntered across the stage like he’d been class valedictorian. Sure, Steve had only graduated by the skin of his teeth, and he hadn’t been able to secure one college place, but he had graduated nonetheless.

The rest of the ceremony seemed to pass quickly, and despite the raging beat down from the sun and the kid’s complaining — as if Max didn’t hail from California — you could hardly wipe the smile from your face.

Pushing your way through the large sea of students, you practically had to tear yourself away from the boy’s tight grip as he hugged you, “You came?”

“I mean, you kinda saved our asses last year. Would be rude to not show our faces.” Max smiled, slightly perplexed, as the boy pulled her into her own bone-crushing hug. He made his way down the group, Eleven and Lucas being the only ones to seemingly enjoy it.

“Yeah, it uh… It means a lot.”

You’d been able to wrangle the kids — bar Dustin, who had left a week or so before for some summer camp — to the ceremony, but you knew you didn’t have long before they grew bored and even more annoying than usual.

“Oh, there he is!” A loud, shrill cut through the already noisy atmosphere as Mr. And Mrs. Harrington made their way toward the boy, the former pulling her son into an embrace, “Oh, look at you! You look so smart in your robes.”

Mr. Harrington rolled his eyes as his wife continued to fawn over their only child, “Well, don’t get used to it. You won’t be seeing him in them again since he didn’t get into one damn college.”

“Honey, not here.”

Her voice was stern and her eyes sharp as she sent her husband a pointed look, almost daring him to try to continue this conversation in public, though the man merely turned and began to fiddle with his pager.

“Thanks, Mom,” Steve mumbled, his cheeks flushed — from the sun, or the embarrassment of his mother gripping his cheeks, you weren’t sure — as he peered toward you, the snickers from the kids only deepening his blush.

“Oh, hello again,” Mrs. Harrington had seemingly just noticed you, her smile appearing more strained as she looked around at the small ragtag group surrounding her son, “We didn’t know any of your... friends were coming, sweetheart.”

It took everything in Steve to not shake his head and deny that he was friends with actual children, to explain why they were all so prominent in his life. But he didn’t want to look like an asshole, nor did he want to be shipped off to some insane asylum, or worse… taken away by the government. So instead, Steve sent a tight-lipped smile to his mother as he simply nodded.

“You’re going to have to head out to dinner without me tonight,” Steve’s father sighed, shoving his pager back into the pocket of his tailored black pants, “Stacy said there’s an emergency meeting in Indianapolis, I’ll be gone for the night-”

“I’ll ring Enzo’s when we get back, let them know we’ll reschedule.”

“You two can go on without me. I don’t-”

“You understand, don’t you Steven?” Mrs. Harrington cut off her husband, turning her attention back toward her son, missing the moment his face dropped.

“Yeah, I, uh… It’s fine, Mom.”

Pressing a kiss to the boy’s cheek, Mrs. Harrington returned her gaze to her husband, “We’ll go home and pack. I’ll ring Enzo’s, and you can tell Stacy to book a dinner at the hotel for two tonight.”

Steve watched as the two made their way out toward the parking lot, the noises around him blurring into one sound.

“-And there’s a new movie out tonight, I can totally try to score us some free popcorn at the Hawk unless you wanna try out the new one at Starcourt? Or if you don’t wanna head out, we can rent something at Family Video. I can grab us a pizza and-”

“Party at mine, tonight,” Steve shouted, causing the large crowd of teens to turn in his direction, “8 O’clock.”

“There’s already a party planned for tonight, Harrington. Must have forgotten to post your invite, so sorry.” Carol’s all-too-familiar snarl sounded much too close as she approached you.

“Yeah, well… I have a pool.” Steve shrugged. It wasn’t often he’d laud his parent’s wealth over people, but tonight… Tonight was an exception.

A loud cheer sounded from the crowd, some hollering and chanting Steve’s name, reminding him of the past few years of high school. Carol, however, was less than pleased, scoffing before making her way back to Tommy.

“What time should we get there?” Lucas asked, eyes wide and shining, only to be quickly shut down by the older boy,

“Yeah, not a chance in Hell, Sinclair.”

Despite Steve’s offer to help him set up — he had made his bed, therefore as far as you were concerned, he could sleep in it — you had other plans. You’d dropped off the kids at Mike’s house where they could irritate Mrs. Wheeler instead, and after a pathetic attempt to make yourself somewhat decent for the party later, you headed to your destination.

It was already dark by the time you’d made your way to Forest Hills trailer park, but the summer air remained a few degrees above comfortable, and you begrudged the fact your mother had all but whipped the car keys from your grasp the moment you’d opened the front door. She didn’t have a shift tonight, so you could only assume she was headed out to whatever bar would allow her in.

Throwing your bike down on the patch of grass in front of the steps, the door rattled under your slightly too zealous knock.

“Alright, alright, hold your damn horse- oh, evenin’.” The door swung open, causing you to step backward down the large concrete stairs as Eddie’s uncle, Wayne, appeared, mug in one hand and an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth.

“Is Eddie here?”

The man nodded, letting out an exasperated sigh as he placed the mug down on a small table inside where you could see a small TV set up before moving aside and letting you enter, “He’s holed up in his room, maybe you can get a bit more sense outta the boy than I did.”

Wayne made his way outside and shut the door behind himself, mumbling under his breath as he left. You could already hear the thumping bass from down the small hallway, so you kicked off your shoes and knocked a few times on his door.

“Go away, Wayne.”

Pushing the door open, you leaned against the door frame and waited for the boy to notice you. Laying prone on his messy bed, Eddie Munson looked a little too pathetic for your liking. He was dramatic at the best of times, and cocksure at the worst, but the sight of the young man laying face first into his lumpy pillow as he loudly bemoaned his future was something else altogether.

Clearing your throat, you watched closely as he let out a long, annoyed huff of air and turned only his head, a glare already set on his features that was meant for his uncle quickly fell into something that resembled a baby deer trapped in headlights when he realized that it was not, in fact, Wayne, who was trying to rouse him from his evening of desperation and depression.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, Munson,” you smirked, turning your attention to a book haphazardly thrown onto the boy’s desk.

His bed squeaked as he rolled over, quickly pushing himself to his feet to snatch the book, the blue cover slightly torn and bent along the edges, indicating how often it had been read, “You’re not Wayne…”

“What gave it away?” You cocked a brow, still ignoring the boy as you continued to look around his room, the boy feeling a little too abashed at the state of his room, “the lack of plaid? Or the fact I’m not a 50-year-old man? Pick your words wisely, Munson.”

“Stop touching my shit,” Eddie grumbled, taking away another item — this time, a comic book — from your grasp and placing it precariously on top of his ashtray, his brow still furrowed slightly as he ran a hand over his hair, a futile attempt to straighten out the mass of curls on his head, “What are you doing here? Heard Harrington was having some big, stupid blowout to celebrate graduating by the skin of his teeth. Assumed you’d be with him since, you know, you're attached at the hip now, or whatever.”

Eddie was hurting, which was the sole reason you swallowed down the venomous response that had tasted a little too sour on your tongue for even you. You were here to check in on the boy, not make him feel worse that he, once again, was not a graduate of Hawkins High, and would instead have to repeat another year under the watchful, exasperated eye of Principal Higgins.

“Wanted to see you, see how you’re doing after… you know.” Eddie sent you a halfhearted glare before flopping back down onto his bed, this time facing the ceiling with a huff, “Which I guess isn’t good, since you’re blowing both your own and my ears out with this shit.”

Eddie sat up quickly, holding his weight up on his elbows, “This isn’t shit, it’s Black Sabbath, and Ozzy Osbourne is thee-”

“Yeah, yeah, the prince of darkness, I know, Eddie. I’ve heard the spiel before. But can you please just turn it down a little?”

Eddie leaned over his bed, turning down the dial of his boombox in defeat as the room felt a little too quiet now, “Look, I don’t need checking in on, alright? I’m a big boy, and this isn’t my first rodeo.”

Throwing yourself down next to the boy, laying side by side, perpendicular on the bed, your eyes gazed over the posters that lined his walls, including his homemade ‘Corroded Coffin’ banner. Rolling on your side slightly, you dug around in your back pocket, searching for the notes you’d shoved in there earlier, “Hey, you got any pre-rolls?”

“I’m not really in the mood,” Eddie huffed, only to be cut off when the money floated down onto his chest. Sighing, he pushed himself up once more and grabbed his metal lunchbox from the bedside table, “I normally charge extra for pre-rolled, you know?”

“Friends discount?” you shrugged, eyes turning to watch the boy as he plonked the box onto his desk, sitting in his old, barely still standing chair, and got to work, “You know, you’ll get caught in school with that one day. It’s a little obvious you’re not exactly carrying around a sandwich in it.”

Ignoring your barely there concern, Eddie shook his head, “Oh, we’re friends, are we? You know the assholes at school would shun you even more if they heard you declare that.”

Rolling your eyes, you rested your hands on your stomach, “I’ve watched your shitty band play live. By choice. I’d definitely say we’re friends, Munson.”

“You know, I’m starting to think you refer to everything you like as shitty. Black Sabbath, but I know you know at least two of their albums, my music, but you’ve seen the band live…” After securing the joint, Eddie gently fell back onto the bed, elbow a little too close to your ribs as he rolled to face you, “Tell me how you really feel about DND.”

Shoving the boy away from you, you checked around the small table to the side of his bed for a lighter, tossing the magazine from earlier onto the floor in search of the ashtray, stopping short when you came across the blue box innocently placed next to it. Tossing the boy the lighter, you moved back from where you were leaning over Eddie, blue box in hand and a wide smirk on your face.

“Lubricated, for her pleasure, right?” You couldn’t help the cackle that escaped you as Eddie choked as he inhaled a lungful of smoke, sitting up quickly to grab the box, despite the fact he was certain he was about to die.

“Give that here,” he glared, throat scratchy when he finally managed to catch his breath, allowing you to take the joint only once you’d passed him the box of condoms, “God, you’re annoying.”

Finally settling down, you returned to your original place on the bed, taking a large toke or two before handing the joint back to the boy, “Hey, I think it’s great that you care about that shit-”

“It’s important,” Eddie glared, his cheeks burning in lingering embarrassment, “Can’t just ram it in there, and-”

“Christ, Munson, I don’t actually care about your sex life. I’m just glad you’re being responsible, even if that is an unopened packet.”

“Yeah, well,” Eddie sighed, releasing a long cloud of smoke as you continued to pass the joint back and forth, “I’m the only Munson Junior in town. Wouldn’t wanna make this shithole hate me more, right?”

Halting in your actions, joint halfway to your mouth, you looked over at the boy who despite putting on a pretty decent front in school and around town, was only able to let his walls down, even slightly, in the comfort and safety of his own home. A home that he was forced to share with his uncle.

“You’re nothing like Al, you know that right?”

“What, charming? Charismatic?”

“You know what I mean, Ed.”

And he did.

Word around Hawkins traveled faster than mono in high school, and all of the charm in the world wouldn’t make Alan Munson a better man. Whether or not the death of Eddie’s mother had devastated the man or not, he was the only one to blame for the life of gambling and theft that he began to lead.

But grief was a funny thing. It could wreck even the strongest of men, even the kindest of them, and Al Munson was neither of those things to begin with.

After finishing the last of your joint, you pocketed the rest and once you were certain that Eddie was going to be okay, you decided to take your leave. Eddie gave you a ride to the Harrington residence, offering to drop your bike back home on the way through, offering you a ride home later, if you needed it.

You knew what he was getting at, a Cheshire cat grin pulling widely at his cheeks as he sent you a sleazy wink, only to receive a joint thrown — unlit, thankfully — to his face. For his troubles, you’d assured him.

By the time you’d arrived at Steve’s house, it was already full of half-cut teenagers celebrating their newfound freedom. Steve was lucky that he didn’t really have any neighbors in close range, because you could hear the music blasting from the sound system, along with the screams and laughter and chanting coming from the backyard before you’d even exited Eddie’s van.

“You sure you don’t wanna come in? Just for one drink? You might make a sale?”

But the older boy shook his head, the now tight smile that tugged almost uncomfortably across his mouth not fooling anyone, “Nah. We smoked the last of the shit I got from Rick, plus I gotta tie up some loose ends on my next campaign. It’s a big one.”

Eddie waved you off, his van making more racket than the house party as he drove back up the driveway, and you only hoped he wouldn’t get pulled over for the inevitable speeding he’d be doing back through town.

Pushing open the large, red door, the house already seemed much too cramped, full of people who were practically strangers.

A familiar song was playing through the speakers, something you were sure you’d heard on the radio in Steve’s car recently, but you didn’t care enough to place it. Either way, people were dancing up a storm.

You felt a sharp pain in your side as you pushed through the crowd, hoping to find someone you recognized when a loud shout of your name caught your attention.

Finally breaking out of the sea of people, you met Steve in the kitchen where he was pouring what seemed to be another round of shots, a gaggle of now ex-students surrounding him at all sides, accepting their drink with gusto. You waited for the boy to down his own, watching as he shook his head in an attempt to drown out the burn that the liquor left in his throat. He was obviously drunk, you realized, as he rounded the kitchen counter and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into a one-armed hug that felt a little more like a headlock.

“I’m so glad you came! I thought you were gonna bail.”

“Yeah, well… There’s still time,” you only half-joked, patting his back before he let you go, only to drag you back to the group he was standing with. You recognized a few of the girls, all of them fawning over the man of the hour the last few years of high school, especially Debbie Rein. Ex-head cheerleader, and one thousand percent Steve’s type. Before Nancy, at least. God, you thought to yourself, she must have been absolutely infuriated that Nancy Wheeler of all people had their taste of Steve before she did.

“So, you know these guys, right?” Steve asked, his hand flailing in the small group's direction.

You sent them an awkward smile, despite being practically ignored by them all. Cheerleaders and jocks were not aware of your existence in school, of that you were sure, but you still tried, “Uh, yeah. We had Chem together last year, I think.”

Debbie — who had returned to her previous state of clinging to Steve’s arm — merely looked you up and down, shrugging her shoulder as if to prove a point that you were all too forgettable. You knew she was counting down the seconds until you left, and Steve’s attention could return solely back to her. Steve, however, had a different plan.

“Here you go,” he handed you the small plastic cup, a shot full of what was likely the most expensive vodka in his parent’s liquor cabinet.

“Oh, uh, no I’m good thanks-”

“C’mon, it’s graduation! Just the one, I promise.” Steve interrupted, holding the drink closer to you, big brown eyes peering down like a too-excited puppy, only making it all that harder to turn down.

You would’ve, though, had Debbie — whose nails were practically digging into Steve’s bicep — not scoffed, lips pulling into the same smirk you’d seen grace her annoyingly pretty face countless times in the school hallways as she hit books out of freshman’s arms and tripped the band geeks as they lugged their heavy instruments to practice.

Instead of asking her what her problem was, because you knew damn well what her issue was with you, you accepted the drink from Steve’s sticky, vodka grip, swallowing it down in one, trying — and failing — to keep a straight face. Turns out, even expensive vodka tasted like paint stripper.

Steve let out a cheer as you placed the small cup back onto the counter and quickly downed another of his own, tongue sticking out at the taste. You watched the blonde roll her eyes before turning her attention back to the boy, “Oh my god, I love this song. Let’s dance!”

Steve nodded enthusiastically, even though he honestly had no idea what was currently playing, but the girl’s smirk quickly fell from her face as he grabbed your arm, trying to drag you toward the makeshift dance floor,

“No, Steve, I’m not…” shaking your arm from his grip, you tried your best not to glare at him, “I don’t think that’s what she meant.”

The boy’s head tipped to the right as he frowned, “What who meant?”

Sighing, you patted the boy on his cheek, eyes softening at his dopey, drunken expression, “Debbie. You know, the girl in the… You know what? Never mind.”

“You want another drink?”

Shaking your head, you stepped closer to the boy attempting to avoid an all too passionate couple that seemed to be attached at the mouth, “Shots aren’t really my thing. Look, Steve, I think I should-”

“C’mon, there’s a keg out back.” The boy didn’t stop to make sure you were following, instead grabbing your hand and dragging you back through the kitchen, past Debbie, who sent you one last bitter glare, and into the back yard where he snatched two clean solo cups and poured a little too much beer into each.

You followed him toward the lounge chairs, a heavy weight settling on your chest as you took note of the last time you were here. The last time you’d seen Barb alive. Sending a quick glance to the boy, you wondered if the memories hit him just as hard, if not harder. Because at least you could go home, he couldn’t even look out of his window without the painful reminder of what happened that night, and who was — unrightfully so — blamed for it all.

Steve tipped back his cup, gulping down a large mouthful of the bitter drink before looking around at the groups that had gathered, some people cooling off in the pool, others relishing in the early summer heat.

“It’s a good turnout, right?” He questioned, his wide eyes turning toward you, once again seeking your validation, “better than anything Tommy or Carol could’ve pulled off.”

“You don’t have to do this, you know? Not for them, and especially not with me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It was obvious that Steve was lying, his focus quickly returning to the crowd around him as he took another sip, “I’m just being a normal teenage guy on graduation, right? I’m allowed to do that, right?”

Releasing a long and irritated sigh, you tried your best to ignore his tone, knowing it wasn’t really you that he was upset with, “I’m not saying you can’t, Steve. I’m just saying you don’t have to.”

“Look, you just… you wouldn’t get it, alright? Tonight is the most normal I’ve felt in a long time. I mean, I was someone in high school, you know? People cared. You were just a…”

You were sure your heart physically ached as the boy’s sentence dwindled off, a sip of his beer to wash down the harsh words, regret obvious in his features.

“Just a what, Steve? Just some loser who you didn’t know existed until you were dragged into this shit? Or rather barreled headfirst into it because you couldn't mind your own damn business.”

He wanted to remind you that his barreling had, as a matter of fact, saved your life that night at the Byers' residence. He had the blood stain on the backseat of his Beamer to prove it. But Steve wasn’t here to burn bridges, despite being drunk enough to light the match,

“I didn’t say that-”

“You didn’t have to,” you were trying, and failing, to keep your cool as your voice amplified, “Jesus, Steve. I really thought you’d gotten over this shit, but one stupid comment from Carol earlier and… You know what, forget it. Enjoy your night down memory lane, Steve. I’m sure Debbie’s still in the kitchen if you’re that desperate to relive your glory days.”

Standing, you handed your cup a little too forcefully to the boy who didn’t seem bothered at all that some of the beer spilled over the side, most likely staining his shirt, as he struggled to stand in his drunken stupor,

“Have a great graduation party, King Steve.”

“Oh, wow. I didn’t think you’d turn up, considering you’re not in the graduating class.” You were sure that Carol’s voice was the background music in Hell, “Any of your other loser friends get a pity invite, or are you just Harrington’s special friend of the moment?”

Steve called your name, almost completely unaware of Carol’s presence, too occupied with your sudden halt, watching closely as you turned back around,

“You know, Carol, I think it’s really great that you and Tommy are so secure in your relationship that you trust each other to go to colleges in different states. I mean, I know Tommy didn’t exactly get his pick of the crop, but considering what happened at Sally’s party last weekend? Well, you’re a better woman than me, that’s for sure.”

Tommy’s ears — as well as the large group that had formed outside — perked up at the mention of his name, splodges of red from the tips of his ears, spreading down his neck as he sent his girlfriend an ingratiating smile, “I promise, babe, nothing happened at Sally’s. I was barely even there an hour-”

Rumors spread around the school like a forest fire, and being all but invisible had its perks if you knew how to use them, but you decided to leave the boy to his fumbling as he tried his best to explain himself, ready to shove your way back through the crowd.

Maybe you would call in that ride from Eddie.

“I don’t even know why you’re here, the only place you’ll be going to after graduation is Pennhurst.” Tommy’s biting tone stopped you mid-step, and as you turned to face him, you could see that for a split second, he was unsure if he’d gone too far. And if looks could kill, he’d be six feet under already.

“Maybe you should be more concerned with why your girlfriend wasn’t at Sally’s party, and who she was with, instead. I’ll give you a clue, it starts with Har, and ends with Grove.”

“You crazy bitch,” Tommy spat, any amount of uncertainty for his previous comment now gone with the wind as he quickly approached you, and you realized that maybe this time, you had pushed too hard and the boy might actually hit you.

Your chest bumped against Steve’s back as he slotted himself between you and the incoming, hot-headed idiot that he used to call a friend. Despite being obviously drunk, Steve’s words were much clearer than before, “Back off, Tommy. Just go, and take her with you.”

“What happened to you, man?” The boy questioned, his dark eyes peering into Steve’s as if he was genuinely perplexed by Steve’s change of personality this past year. Then again, he didn’t know half the shit Steve had been through. Half the shit you had been through together, “She got a beer-flavored pussy that’s got you whipped or something-”

The crack was loud in the silence of the yard, a few gasps escaped some of the spectators as they watched Tommy stumble back slightly, hand pressed to his nose as he felt the first trickle of blood run over his knuckles.

Unfortunately for Steve, Tommy had a lot less to drink and seemingly recovered much too quickly, throwing his own punch and catching Steve across the cheekbone, the boy’s body stumbled into you slightly as you gripped the back of his shirt. Steve’s face forcibly slammed in the other direction as Tommy landed his second hit, taking full advantage of his inebriated state, and it was only when you forced yourself in between them that Tommy stopped.

“Your reign is long over, Harrington. Don’t you get that? All anyone will ever remember you as is some loser has-been, who peaked in high school. C’mon, babe. This party’s lame, anyway.”

The crowd's whispers soon faded out as someone turned the music up, the sounds of Madonna’s ‘Material Girl’ enough to recapture the ever-fleeting attention of teenagers, and you turned around, eyes wide as you watched the bruise on Steve’s cheekbone blossom in front of your own eyes, “Steve, I-”

“I’m fine,” he mumbled, not quite sobering up, but definitely no longer in the mood to parade about as if he were having fun. So instead, he made a beeline to the trusty bottle of very expensive vodka.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you waited until the swirling colored squiggles faded behind your eyelids before opening them back up and peering through the large sliding glass door trying to spot the boy. You couldn’t leave him like this, not when you felt partially responsible for the showdown that just happened. So begrudgingly, you pushed back through the overcrowded house, trying to find him.

It wasn’t too hard, surprisingly, as all you had to do was follow the loud cheers that seemed to echo around the house. Steve stood in the kitchen, all but chugging the bottle of vodka. With pinched brows, you marched toward him, yanking the bottle from his grip and causing some of it to join the beer stain you’d left previously.

The chanting came to an abrupt halt, loud boos and shouts aimed in your direction as you kept the bottle away from Steve’s grabbing hands,

“Give it back, it’s mine.” He slurred, eyes not quite able to focus on you. The bottle seemed much emptier than before you’d made your way outside, and you could only hope that other partygoers had taken their fill because if not, Steve was going to be left with one hell of a hangover in the morning. Ignoring the bottle you’d taken from him, Steve made a move to grab a solo cup, half filled with a red liquid that he wasn’t entirely sure of. Too drunk and too emotional, Steve knocked the cup before he was able to grab it, the contents spilling all over the kitchen counter, and yourself.

“You’re being way too dramatic right now, Harrington, and the only way this is gonna end is with your head in the toilet.”

“Oh, Harrington this, Harrington that,” he huffed, his brow wrinkled as he peered down with a look you’d never seen him give you before, “Jesus, you don’t have to be here. You can go at any time! Just because shit happened last year, and I’m gonna rot in this town for the rest of my life doesn’t mean…”

The boy stopped mid-sentence, almost freezing in place, “It doesn’t mean…”

“Steve? You good?”

“It doesn’t mean… I’m gonna puke.”

Desperately, you grabbed the boy by the back of the neck and pushed him toward the kitchen sink, all but sticking his head into it so he wouldn’t throw up over the floor. A few disgusted guests groaned, quickly evacuating the kitchen, but the music drowned out the boy’s gagging.

Once Steve’s stomach had finally settled, his shoulders no longer heaving as he retched, you grabbed an empty solo cup from the side and filled it with water from the tap, leaving it running to clear the sink.

“Sip, don’t gulp. Or you’ll be sick again.”

Steve nodded and slowed down his drinking, his eyes looking anywhere but at you.

“I wanna sleep,” he mumbled, sounding a little like a toddler who was overdue for a nap.

“I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but you kinda have a house full of people. If you go to bed, you might wake up without a couch, and I think your parents might notice.”

A childlike pout settled on his lips, brow pulled together as he finally looked at you, brown puppy dog eyes all but begging you for something he really didn’t need your permission for. Squeezing your eyes closed, you let out an annoyed sigh but nodded regardless, allowing the boy to place his arm over your shoulder for balance.

“Let's get you upstairs, and I’ll deal with the rest.”

“I can take it from here-”

“Fuck off, Debbie,” you huffed, pushing past the blonde from earlier and making your way toward the boy's room, ignoring the drunken wolf whistles and whooping from the crowd who’d noticed you leading Steve upstairs, wondering if Steve felt as embarrassed at Tina’s party last year when he’d helped you — too drunk, and much too upset — safely into his car.

Despite being on more than one of the athletic clubs in school, Steve wasn’t an overly muscular guy, yet his lean body was still heavy to assist — or rather, drag — upstairs, especially as with every step, Steve leaned a little more weight onto you.

Making your way down the hallway, and toward his room, you raised your voice slightly to catch the attention of the overly zealous couple making out against his door. Thankfully, Steve had locked the rooms upstairs, bar his own, and the bathroom in an attempt to keep this kind of thing from happening. He wasn’t a prude — obviously — but he wasn’t sure how he’d explain cleaning his parent’s bed sheets when they returned tomorrow.

“Hey, move it. Go find somewhere else to swap saliva. Preferably one of your own bedrooms.”

The couple scoffed, sending you a glare, but headed downstairs nonetheless.

How you managed to open Steve’s door and keep the boy upright took nothing less than a miracle, and you couldn’t help but feel relieved when he stumbled into his room and fell backward onto his bed, the frame creaking slightly under his sudden weight.

“Are you gonna throw up anymore?”

Shaking his head, Steve tried to take off his sneakers, giving up when the task seemed too strenuous. Making your way over and sitting at the bottom of his bed, you grabbed his shoes one at a time, tugging the sneakers from his feet and dropping them to the floor, “Steve, I need to make sure that you’re not going to choke on your own vomit if I leave you alone for ten minutes.”

“I’m fine, I’m good… I’m great,” Steve sighed, rolling onto his stomach and nuzzling his pillow.

Deciding that he would survive for the foreseeable future, you made your way downstairs, a plan already formed before your foot hit the bottom step. Pushing your way through the crowd in the living room, you cut the music suddenly, shouting out over the crowd,

“Cops!”

The crowd dispersed quickly, knowing that although they had their newfound freedom from school, that wouldn’t stop the long grounding most of them would receive from their parents if they were escorted home in a police car. The suddenly silent house made your ears ring as you looked around at the mess that was the Harrington’s family room.

Locking the front door, just in case any stragglers made their way back, and began the clean up in the kitchen. You found a black trash bag under the sink and began to bag up the red solo cups and empty bottles of beer that were littering downstairs. You had no idea what time the Harringtons intended to return home, but you doubted that Steve would be awake before midday, and cleaning up this mess felt like the least you could do.

Maybe tomorrow, when Steve was a little more sober and hopefully feeling a lot more forgiving, you could sort out the rest. Or, maybe, he’d forget that it had even happened, and you’d never have to talk about it again.

Somehow, you didn’t think you’d be that lucky.

Eventually, all of the cups inside and outside of the house had been collected, and the remaining bottles of liquor had been refilled with water and placed back into the large cabinet where Mrs. Harrington kept them. Couch pillows plumped, and sticky counters wiped, you left the trash bag outside the back door, eyes avoiding the pool as you locked up, hoping that Steve��s parents wouldn’t be home before he threw it out. Somehow, you weren’t sure he’d be that lucky.

Turning off all the lights except the small lamp by the door after you’d made a futile attempt to wash the red stain from your shirt, you made your way back upstairs, needlessly knocking on the boy’s door before entering, intending to check on him one last time before you left.

Placing the glass of water on his bedside table, you turned your attention to the boy, still lying prone on his bed, hair falling onto his sweaty forehead. Moving to sit next to him, you gently carded your fingers through it, carefully untangling any parts that were slightly knotted from too much hairspray, and pushed the long strands away from his slightly bruised face,

“Hey, Steve… I’m gonna get going.”

Like a house cat in desperate need of attention, Steve nuzzled into your touch, practically purring, a soft sigh falling from his lips when your fingers finally left his hair, “I don’t wanna.”

“You don’t have to, Steve. I’m going home. You need to rest, you’re gonna have one hell of a hangover tomorrow.”

“Stay,” he mumbled, his brow furrowing, before he managed to open his eyes, blinking a few times before looking right at you, “I didn’t mean what I said earlier. Please, stay.”

And maybe, if you’d have left, everything would’ve been okay. But those soft eyes peered up at you with such hesitation, as if he was waiting for you to decline, to sneak off and leave him alone in his big, practically desolate house, and you felt your refusal dissolve on your tongue.

“Move over, and stay on your side of the bed,” you glared, making your way around the bed, awkwardly settling down on top of the duvet and kicking off your sneakers.

“Scout’s honor,” Steve raised his hand, waving it slightly in the dark.

Scoffing, you kept your eyes on the ceiling as you felt Steve shuffle onto his back, his head turning to look in your direction, “I bet you weren’t even in scouts.”

“You’ll never know,” Steve tried to tease, his eyes feeling heavier with each passing second until finally, they closed.

You stayed stock-still until you were certain he was asleep, the soft snoring giving him away almost instantly. Every fiber of your body was telling you to leave, that he’d be fine sleeping off the drink, and his parents would never know what happened in the morning. Yet, you felt your own eyes drooping, staying closed for longer each time, unsure if it was from a long, stressful day, or from the weed you’d smoked at Eddie’s trailer.

Either way, you fell asleep soon after, the warmth emitting from the boy next to you pulling you into a peaceful, dreamless slumber.

Considering it was only June, the air around you felt too thick and humid. If this was any indication of the summer to come, you might just sit in the Slushee machine at the arcade and never come out.

Your body felt warm and clammy, and you imagined the sun was beating down on your body already, but it seemed much too dark. Had you closed the blinds in Steve’s room the night before? Honestly, you couldn’t remember.

Either way, you felt much too warm, sticky, and uncomfortable to remain in bed all day, feeling like you had your body pressed against a heater.

Your eyes flew open, the blurry image of a freckled back staring right back at you, causing you to jerk backward. Unfortunately, your legs had seemed to entwine with Steve’s, the fabric of his jeans feeling scratchy against your ankle, where your own pants had rolled up slightly, and instead of peeling yourself from the boy’s back, you woke him with a jolt.

“The hell are you doing?” Steve grumbled, finally moving his legs and releasing your own as you scooted up in the bed.

Glaring down at the boy, you realized that it wasn’t the sun that had been causing you to overheat, it had been Steve’s body. Steve’s shirtless body, “Where the hell is your top?”

Steve groaned as he rolled over to face you, and if his brain wasn’t about to pound its way out of his ears, he might’ve laughed at your expression, “Jesus, calm down. It’s just a body. You’re lucky I still have my jeans on-”

“You’re lucky you still have your jeans on,” you said through gritted teeth, slapping the top of his arm, and trying to keep your eyes at a respectable level, “What’s the time?”

Lifting his arm toward his face, Steve squinted slightly as he looked at his watch, “9:15, God, did you not even pull the blinds last night?”

Steve’s arm fell over his face, ignoring your scoff, “Forgive me for thinking that making sure you didn’t choke on vomit as you slept was a little more important than closing the blinds.”

“I think I like you more when you’re asleep,” Steve sent you a childlike smirk before he scratched at his chest, the smattering of hair catching your attention, “you’re much nicer to me when you’re not awake.”

Pushing yourself from the bed, you tried in vain to keep your eyes anywhere except a shirtless Steve Harrington, and his disgusting wallpaper that for some reason, matched the drapes, “I should get going. I don’t know if my Mom came home last night, and if she did and she doesn’t know where I am, then I’m in big shit.”

“Wanna get some breakfast? I mean, if she knows you’re out, then you can’t really get in more trouble, right?”

You considered his offer for a moment, stomach groaning as if to make a point that you hadn’t eaten the previous evening, “I can’t exactly go in this.”

Steve’s eyes dropped to where you pointed, the red stain on your shirt now matching the one on his cheeks. Scratching the back of his head, at least he seemed remorseful, “Yeah, sorry about that. I was an idiot,”

Cocking a brow, you remained quiet as you watched him shuffle from his bed and open up his chest of drawers, “But you can totally borrow something of mine, and then I can take you home. I mean, breakfast kinda seems like the least I could do after last night. But please just… let me make it up to you.”

You took in Steve as he stood, hand stretched out toward you, gripping a random shirt, eyes downcast and begging for forgiveness. A forgiveness you didn’t feel he needed to ask for. But you weren’t one to turn down a free meal.

“Sunny Side diner. I want extra pancakes.” Grabbing the shirt from his grip, you made your way toward the stairs, “Oh, and shower. You stink of beer.”

Steve had arrived at the small diner just outside of town 40 minutes later, and if you were hungry before, you were ravenous by the time you’d sat down, eyes skimming over the menu despite knowing exactly what you were going to order.

Steve had looked a little green as a plate of eggs passed by the table, but by the time his own pancakes came, his stomach had settled.

“How's your head feeling?”

Placing his glass back on the table, Steve gulped down his orange juice as if someone were about to steal it, “It’s okay, could be worse.”

You nodded, taking a long sip of coffee, staring at the boy, “You know you look like a total dick with those on inside, right?”

“It’s too bright,” Steve moaned, and although you couldn’t see his eyes, you could tell from the lines that appeared between his eyebrows that he was glaring at you.

“And yet, you wouldn’t let me drive.”

“I don’t let anyone drive my car-”

“Max did,” an amused smirk pulled your mouth up to one side as Steve finally lifted his sunglasses, perching them on his head just to give you the full effect of his scowl.

“Maybe, but I didn’t let her.”

Shrugging, you cut up another piece of pancake before popping it into your mouth, “Semantics.”

Steve, despite now having to squint throughout his meal, kept his sunglasses on top of his head for the remainder of your time at the diner.

After a moment of comfortable silence, filled only by the sounds of other customers chatting and cutlery scraping plates, Steve returned his attention to you, “Thanks, by the way. For, you know, cleaning up. And taking care of me. I was an idiot, and you didn’t deserve anything I said. I took it out on you, and I really shouldn’t have. Tommy just… He just knows how to get to me, you know.”

“It’s fine, really. I’m kinda used to the whole cleaning up after someone else’s drunken escapades, you know? Plus, it’s not like you didn’t do the same for me last year. Call it even. And Tommy… I mean, he just wants the reaction out of you. He’s an asshole, and he’ll always be an asshole. But you, you know… You’ve changed, and he doesn't have enough brain cells to realize it's for the better.”

Steve watched you carefully as you pushed around the last piece of pancake on your plate, worried that he’d caused you to lose your appetite, despite having already demolished most of your meal.

“You think I’ve changed in a good way?”

Picking up your coffee mug, you stared into the dark brown liquid, wishing you could drown in it, “I mean, obviously. I don’t hate being around you anymore.”

“I can work with that,” the boy nodded, before stealing the last slice of pancake from your plate, “I am sorry though, that I put you in that position last night.”

Taking Steve’s empty plate and stacking it on top of your own, you avoided his eyes as much as possible, “Really, it’s fine. I mean, you kinda threw a punch for me. And, you know… took two.”

“I was drunk, Tommy had an unfair advantage.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m sure that’s it. Totally.”

Steve scoffed as you stood, the boy throwing down enough notes to cover the bill and tip before quickly catching you up, “I could totally win a fight if I wanted.”

“I’m sure you could, Steve.” Your voice was a little too condescending for Steve to take seriously as if you were trying to pacify an infant.

“I totally could,” Steve grunted as he settled into the driver seat, connecting his seat belt and turning his attention to you as you began to fiddle with the radio, fingers quickly being slapped away, “You know, I already had that set to a station I like.”

“You didn’t get your fill of Madonna last night? Tell me, are you a ‘Holiday’, or a ‘Material Girl’ kind of guy?”

Steve merely glared before finding the station he wanted, his hand flying forward to turn the radio off when the familiar chorus kicked in, “Silence is good too.”

“Ahh, a ‘Like A Virgin’ kind of guy. How ironic.”

“That was pure luck, alright?”

Holding up your hands, you sent the boy a winsome smile, “Hey, no judgment here.”

“Really? Because you sound awful judgmental over there.”

“Everyone has their vices, Harrington. Cheesy pop music is yours.”

[laughingdrawingaces]

You fire off missiles 'cause you hate yourself

But do you know you're demolishing me?

X-Men (1991) #81

[wewouldgobackintime]

i've been thinking about "two graves / one gun" and how the most obvious interpretation would be a murder-suicide (shooting someone dead and then killing yourself with the same gun) but if you take renegade's "you fire off missiles 'cause you hate yourself / but do you know? / you're demolishing me" into account, it might have been a suicide-murder situation: "we're so close that your suicide killed me too"

[galpalkirk]

I made a post a while ago about how ttpd is the perfect loustat album. Long story short it then evolved into this playlist.

Notes on each song choice under the cut (because I'm insane and they're long):

1. Guilty as Sin? - POV Louis Ep 1x1 In throes of increasing wonder... it's all about desire and religious guilt.

2. But Daddy I Love Him - POV Louis Ep 1x1 "He ain't white, he french." Ep 1x2 "He had a way about him" He was chaos, he was revelry. Ep 1x4 I'm having his baby! The obvious forever iconic baby trapping.

Crazier - POV Louis (not on the list because of vibes but still an honorable mention) Ep 1x1 You lift my feet off the ground, you spin me around. Levitating vampire sex. Ep 1x2 You showed me something that I couldn't see, opened my eyes and you made me believe. Lestat trying to free Louis from the trappings of his life and Louis literally seeing the world differently as a vampire.

3. I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can) - POV Louis Everything about them. Ep 1x2 Louis starting to see that he cannot stomach the way Lestat enjoys killing. Lestat humiliating and killing the opera singer simply because he was a bad singer. Ep 1x3 The jokes that he told across the bar were revolting and far too loud. "What is wrong with that man?!" and then add Louis actually trying to fix Lestat by having him only kill evil people.

4. False God - POV Louis and Lestat We were crazy to think, crazy to think that this could work. But we might just get away with it, religion's in your lips, even if it's a false god. I know heaven's a thing, I go there when I touch you. Honey, hell is when I fight with you. I can't talk to you when you're like this, staring out the window like I'm not your favorite town. You can't talk to me when I'm like this, daring you to leave me just so I can try to scare you. Self-explanatory.

5. Renegade - POV Lestat Ep 1x1 I tapped on your window on your darkest night, the shape of you was jagged and weak. There was nowhere for me to stay, but I stayed anyway. Louis running away from Lestat to the church to try to exorcise him from his mind and heart. Trying to keep him out rather than let him in. Ep 1x2 After the phantoms of your former self. Are you really gonna talk about timing in times like these? And let all your damage damage me? And carry your baggage up my street? And make me your future history? Louis trying to continue his life as it was before he was turned but finding it difficult in a multitude of ways. "I almost ate my nephew, Lestat!" You've come a long way, open the blinds, let me see your face. You wouldn't be the first renegade to need somebody. "You are a challenge every sunset, Saint Louis. And I'd have it no other way." Ep 1x3 You fire off missiles 'cause you hate yourself, but do you know you're demolishing me? "This is not a life!" "That's because you TOOK my life!" Louis leaving Lestat because he hates his own vampire nature. Ep 1x5 Is it insensitive for me to say "Get your shit together so I can love you?" Louis' depression after Claudia leaves. Is it really your anxiety that stops you from giving me everything? Or do just not want to? "Say 'Lestat, I am never going to love you.'" Louis never telling Lestat "I love you" during their 30 years together.

6. Bejeweled - POV Lestat Ep 1x3 and onward. Don't put me in the basement when I want the penthouse of your heart. Lestat starting and continuing his affair with Antoinette whenever he feels neglected or rejected by Louis.

7. High Infidelity - POV Lestat I just think the cheating blondes Lestat and Taylor have a lot in common. Ep 1x5 Put on your records Read your books and regret me. Lestat being ignored by Louis who is only staying inside and reading his books since Claudia left. Ep 1x5 (with additional 2x7 context) You know there's many different ways that you can kill the one you love? The slowest way is never loving them enough. "If every word coming out of his mouth is vitriol or disinterest for seven years... you don't want to. You still hope that he'll emerge out of his melancholy. That he'll love you like you love him." But in the meantime you cheat. I bent the truth too far tonight, I was dancing around, dancing around it. Lestat keeping up his affair with Antoinette after he had promised to end it. You said I was freeloading. Not related to the show but in the original novel Louis keeps saying how Lestat was exploiting him for his money.

8. My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys - POV Lestat Ep 1x5 The Fight™️ Oh, here we go again. The voices in his head called the rain to end our days of wild. The "Claudia has left" depression spanning for several years. Lestat hoping he'll "emerge out of his melancholy" but also just being sick of it because he wants to bejeweled. But first, pull the string and I'll tell you that he runs because he loves me. "I have waited, Louis. I have patiently waited in vain for you to love me, as I love you." Ep 2x7 (still The Fight™️) He saw forever so he smashed it up. Hehe, Slam Reid his face into the coffin.

9. The Great War - POV Louis and Lestat Ep 1x5 The Fight™️ 2: Electric Boogaloo I drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone. Louis ignoring Lestat and going deeper into his depression. And maybe it was egos swinging, maybe it was her. "A thousand nights of sulking, and the first sight of her, you are just gonna up and leave me?!" Ep 2x7 (still The Fight™️) Your finger on my hairpin triggers. "A word of context for our jury. The single worst thing that a vampire can feel is loneliness." Soldier down on that icy ground looked up at me with honor and truth. Broken and blue. So I called off the troops. That was the night I nearly lost you. Louis leaving Lestat after being dropped from the sky. "I did it to hurt him. And it did hurt him. And afterwards he was a broken thing. I know, I saw, because I am the one who broke him!" Ep 1x6 We can plant a memory garden. Say a solemn prayer, place a poppy in my hair. There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair. And we will never go back to that bloodshed. The aftermath of The Fight™️. "We leave the damage so we never forget the damage."

10. imgonnagetyouback - POV Louis Ep 1x6 Whether I'm gonna curse you out or take you back to my house. I haven't decided yet, but I'm gonna get you back. Louis swimming the Mississippi to yell at and fuck Lestat after he sends him the "Come to me" record. And then taking him back. And then plotting his death to get him back.

Rest of the songs will be in a reblog because apparently you CAN reach character limit on a tumblr post...

[taylortruther]

pls help if you can, you're so good at this, but english isn't my first language so i often have a hard time understanding lyrics and themes: what does the song renegade talk about, more or less? i'm sorry i'm a bit of a dummy

let's start with the term "renegade" - it's "a person who deserts and betrays an organization, country, or set of principles" (thanks oxford dictionary.) it's similar to an outlaw, a criminal, a rebel, a theme that taylor talks about a lot - someone who runs away, or only looks out for themselves, until they are changed by love. we see this in cowboy like me, too.

renegade is about the narrator begging their partner to accept their help so their relationship can move forward and be stronger. and it touches on another theme common in taylor's music: how she has been changed by love, specifically joe's selfless support.

I tapped on your window on your darkest night The shape of you was jagged and weak There was nowhere for me to stay, but I stayed anyway And if I would've known How many pieces you had crumbled into I might have let them lay

= you were going through a dark, extremely difficult time, and you didn't want to let me in emotionally, but i stayed. but i didn't realize how hard it would be to get you to really let me in and help you.

Are you really gonna talk about timing in times like these? And let all your damage damage me And carry your baggage up my street And make me your future history, it’s time You've come a long way, open the blinds, let me see your face You wouldn't be the first renegade to need somebody

= are you really going to say you're not ready to move forward (timing probably refers to marriage), after all we've been through together as a couple, and after what's going on in the world (covid, political strife, etc)? are you going to let your past, your emotional baggage, push me away until i leave for good? JUST LET ME IN! you aren't the only one with problems, and you can be helped! it doesn't have to be this huge awful thing!

Is it insensitive for me to say "Get your shit together so I can love you"? Is it really your anxiety that stops you From giving me everything Or do you just not want to?

= i'm afraid that you really don't want me. you say your struggles or fears are what's holding you back, but maybe you just don't love me the way i love you

I tapped on your window on your darkest night The shape of you was jagged and weak There was nowhere for me to stay, but I stayed anyway You fire off missiles ’cause you hate yourself But do you know you're demolishing me? And then you squeeze my hand as I'm about to leave

= remember, i want to help you. and you're in pain, you're struggling, i get that, but you have hurt me so badly. i think about leaving, but each time i do, you convince me that you want to keep trying. so LET ME HELP YOU!!!

And if I would've known How sharp the pieces were you'd crumbled into I might’ve let them lay

= similar to above, you REALLY hurt me. and if i'd known how badly you would've hurt me, i really might have just left way before.

and the rest of the song continues to plea with this person to let her in, because her partner is hurting himself and her, perhaps to the point of no return.

[kingofmyborrowedheart]

“You fire off missiles cause/You hate yourself/But do you know you're demolishing me?/Then you squeeze my hand/As I'm about to leave” -> “But you're in self-sabotage mode/Throwing spikes down on the road/But I've seen this episode/And still loved the show”

[faith-forgxtten-land]

idek what you'd do with this but you're a Taylor fan so peaky blinders characters and their corresponding Taylor song/s

ooooh this is a good one. and surprisingly difficult. and i'm trying not to repeat songs which is hard when all of these people are so desperately mentally ill...

Peaky Blinders Characters + their Taylor Swift songs

warnings: needlessly long

Tommy Shelby

mr perfectly fine - does this need explaining? he is mr casually cruel, mr everything revolves around you

so dignified in your well-pressed suit / so strategised, all the eyes on you / sashay your way to your seat / it's the best seat, in the best room / oh, he's so smug, mr always wins / so far above me in every sense / so far above feeling anything

dear reader - burn all the files, desert all your past lives

Alfie Solomons

london boy - i laughed with this but i will stand by it for obvious reasons

getaway car - i will take no comments on this

i knew you were trouble - he is trouble

beautiful ghosts - it mentions london and that’s good enough for me

i know this life isn’t safe / but it’s wild and it’s free

style - we never go out of style (alfie to tommy probably)

look what you made me do - honey, i rose up from the dead, i do it all the time

Arthur Shelby

this is me trying - i’m not sure i can find a song more fitting

they told me all of my cages were mental / so i got wasted like all my potential

renegade - is it insensitive for me to say “get your shit together so i can love you”?

you fire off missiles ‘cause you hate yourself / but do you know you’re demolishing me?

forever winter - he’s up, 5am, wasted / long gone, not even listening

in short, poor arthur

Polly Gray

sad beautiful tragic - it just feels right

mad woman - i’m struggling to explain these choices but they’re correct

castles crumbling - yes

my tears ricochet - also yes

Ada Shelby

dorothea - i thought hard about this one so you better agree

you got shiny friends since you left town

it’s never too late to come back to my side

fearless - she is

a place in this world - i'm just a girl / trying to find a place in this world

ours - communism

John Shelby

i forgot that you existed - i am sorry john

the way i loved you - he and esme are crazy

but i miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain / it’s 2am and i’m cursing your name

can you tell i struggled

girl at home - you’re married john

Michael Gray

foolish one - he’s dumb as hell

never grow up - just is, could be him or polly

the lucky one - you wonder if you’ll make it out alive

bad blood - well

Grace Burgess

when emma falls in love - when emma falls in love, she paces the floor / closes the blinds and locks the door

she won’t walk away, unless she knows she absolutely has to leave

and all the bad boys would be good boys / if they only had a chance to love her

Lizzie Stark

don’t you - this fits her so well and i will not entertain any arguments about it

i heard she’s nothing like me / i’m sure she’ll make you happy

sometimes, i really wish that i could hate you / i’ve tried, but that’s just something i can’t do

you’re losing me - we thought a cure would come through in time, now i fear it won’t

now i just sit in the dark and wonder if it’s time / do i throw out everything we built or keep it

May Carleton

august - you weren’t mine to lose

Finn Shelby

exile - i’m hilarious

you’re on your own, kid - see above

Esme Lee

crazier - yes

[deafleppard]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers! Spread the self-love 💞

oh! i was gonna say 5 is a lot for me but i wrote ELEVEN nfl fics???? i gotta start writing fics again damn

1. like honey but sweeter (the grass here is greener) my only f1 fic (so far!) and it took me. so long. and part way through i truly thought that i had forgotten how to write and it was never gonna come back 😭 but i had such a vision for this and i think i really nailed it!

2. i couldn’t tell if it was love or just october (maybe the weather wasn't why i want you closer) i wrote this one so fast it just WORKED truly possessed by josh wearing stef's fucking jersey like. and it was the first time i had written smut in. so fucking long. and even though it was my third nfl fic, it was the one that really made me feel like i could write fics again :)

3. you fire off missiles cause you hate yourself (but do you know you're demolishing me) PRINCESS PAT! i cannot believe i wrote and published this BEFORE the chiefs/bills game. truly some real insane timing. but i'm so fucking proud of this fic. it's another that i just had such a clear vision of and i was really trying to dig into something with it and i'm really pleased with how it ultimately came out!

4. it's time for mistletoe and holly (and folks stealing a kiss or two) this one is just really cozy :) and i was so nervous that i wouldn't capture jordan and matt well but i feel like i did. also one day. one day i will finish the couch fucking pt 2. it'll happen. maybe for christmas this year tbh

5. flying with your wax wings in a back room (got my arms out tryna catch you) and we're ending on my personal favorite :) i love a sick fic and i especially love this sick fic. i think i've reread it more than any other fic of mine ever.

[wewontbesleeping]

you fire off missiles cause you hate yourself, but do you know you're demolishing me?