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oreomonsterhunter · 3 years

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Life Sucks

Pairing: Lee Know x reader

Word Count: 10K (I know.....this was a surprise for me, too)

Genre: fluff, romantic comedy

Warnings: language (our characters have a tendency to curse, apparently)

Summary: Sunshine reader is in love with love, but hasn’t had much luck with it herself. When she meets Minho, a self-proclaimed cynic and disbeliever of “true love”, she’s determined to change his life. If she can’t find the love of her life, she’s going to try to find his.

This fic was inspired by a tag game once upon a time. It was supposed to be a short drabble, but apparently I can’t hold back with Minho. Tag game featured this specific Lee Know and just kinda spiraled from there lol

Nearing the end of January, winter sometimes seemed endless. Yet when you stepped out into the morning chill, you were pleasantly surprised to find the snow banks melting a bit. Your boots splashed through small puddles as you strode down the street, and you smiled softly at the lavender sky. It was still early enough—for a Saturday—that the sidewalks weren’t too packed yet, so you indulged in a more leisurely walk than usual, dancing along to the music from your headphones. You caught a few odd looks, but you simply smiled and waved at everyone you passed. They could judge your happiness all they wanted, nothing could possibly spoil your day when it was off to such a good start—

“Shit,” you gasped, jumping back onto the curb as a car barrelled through a red light. Had you been a second slower, you would’ve been a vehicular manslaughter case. “Asshole,” you hollered after them, flipping two middle fingers in the air.

You exhaled a sharp breath through your nose, attempting to banish the exasperation and get back into your music again. More careful this time, you double checked both ways down the street before entering the crosswalk.

Unfortunately, your streak of bad luck continued. Just as you hopped off the street, a truck passed by behind you, tires bumping through a pothole. And with the recent snowmelt, this resulted in a spray of cold water hitting the backs of your legs.

You froze, mind stuttering as you tried to comprehend how the morning had taken such a turn, all within your first five minutes outside. Pursing your lips, you twisted around to inspect the damage. The dirty water might stain your jeans, but the most pressing matter was the cold and wet denim now plastered to your legs from your calves to the backs of your knees. You bit your lip, contemplating just turning back and spending the whole day in your apartment. Pajamas, a blanket, hot coffee and tea readily available. Maybe a movie, just because you could.

Then you shook your head, determined to make the best of the day. You wanted a cappuccino, dammit. And chocolate babka from the cafe. No homicidal drivers or puddles could stop you. It was a Saturday, just past sunrise, and you had a whole day ahead of you. No need to wallow a few minutes in. And besides, who knew what would happen.

You set off for the cafe, determination heavy in each step. You forced a smile back onto your lips, though it was thinner than before. You switched to a different playlist so that your boots could thump the concrete in time. And you breathed, spooling calmness back into yourself.

It was a Saturday. You might meet the love of your life today. And nothing could stop you from finding out.

The bell over the front door jingled merrily, and you softened a little further, relaxing into the familiar surroundings. You hardly even noticed the damp denim chafing your legs as you skipped up to the counter.

Ruth, currently manning the register, chuckled as she rang up another customer. “Well would you look at that, the sun came shining right in our front door,” she said.

“Good morning,” you giggled. You waved to Jonathan, Ruth’s husband, in the back. The couple had been running the little cafe and bakery for years, and you were a faithful customer, coming by at least once a week since you first moved to the neighborhood.

“Morning, Sunshine,” he called, hands busy kneading dough for what would doubtless become something delicious. You hummed thoughtfully, considering the baked goods in the glass case before you.

“Your usual?”

You tapped a finger on your chin, “You know, the poppy seed muffins look awfully tempting. I might just have to switch it up today.”

Ruth nodded, tapping on the register. You handed over the requisite bills and she shooed you off, sliding the muffin over the counter. “Go on now, a table opened up by the window, perfect spot. I’ll bring the coffee in a minute.”

“Thank you,” you said, but Ruth was already fussing over the espresso machine. Shaking your head, you weave through the maze of tables and chairs, dodging patrons on your way to the window seat.

You had your eyes on the prize, and you were only a few feet from the chair when you pulled up short. A stranger, their back to you, plopped down in your chair. You blinked, suddenly and painfully aware of your wet pants, the muffin growing cool in your hand, the fact that you could give up now and walk home but perhaps you’d just get hit by a car and never get a chance to enjoy your breakfast. You sighed deeply, breathing out through your nose as you closed your eyes, seeking inner peace or something.

“Can I help you?”

The voice knocked you out of your momentary meditation, and you looked at the table thief in surprise. He loosened the fluffy scarf around his neck before sliding his arms out of his winter coat. A beret, of all things, tilted dangerously to the side before he adjusted it on his head. He looked like some kind of absent-minded professor, but for the youthful features that peered up at you. A sharp nose, tinted red from the cold, and a soft mouth. Dark and depthless eyes, paired with high cheekbones and a cutting jawline.

You realized you were staring when he waved at you, eyes widened. “Hello?”

“Um, sorry, I just,” you stammered, lost for words.

“Do you want to sit or something?”

You stopped again, mouth dropping open. You checked the time—you had fifteen minutes or so, enough time for another table to open up. “Uh, sure, if that’s ok with you. I was hoping for a table, I’m meeting someone,” you said, beginning to ramble.

“No problem, I don’t need all this space, and I’ll head out soon,” he cut you off, raising one brow at you when you continued to stand there, rooted to the spot.

Ruth’s arrival with your cappuccino was what ultimately forced your hand. You sat down, gratefully accepting the drink, your smile less shaky with a taste of the familiar.

“I didn’t think they did table service,” the stranger mused.

“They don’t, I just know the owners,” you shook your head, cutting yourself off when you saw his disinterest. “Sorry, I should introduce myself,” you switched tacks, giving your name with a bright grin. So what if it was forced?

The stranger looked at you, and his lips twitched in a shadow of a smirk. “Minho,” he responded.

Silence fell, heavy and awkward, and you found yourself leaning forward desperately. “So how’s your day so far?”

Minho snorted, reaching for his own drink—an iced americano, you guessed, despite it being the middle of winter. “Probably better than yours.”

“What?” your brows furrowed in confusion.

He gestured to your legs with one hand. “Unfortunate accident this morning?”

Your lips tightened, holding back a frown, “Puddles, you know.”

Minho sighed, sounding sympathetic now, rather than snarky. “Yeah, life sucks, doesn’t it?” And there was the sarcasm again.

“One or two bad things doesn’t mean life sucks,” you countered, sipping your coffee. “I’m excited about the rest of the day, it’s not even eight in the morning! And it’s the weekend, and it’s sunny and warm, and I have hot coffee and a delicious muffin, and the world is out there and ready to be enjoyed,” you finished, lips curling up as you looked out the window at the sunrise, the horizon flaming golden.

“Sounds like you’ve never had a job,” a harsh voice cut into your admiration. Your smile faltered as you looked back at Minho. You gaped at him, brain processing the way this soft-looking boy sounded like the king of cynics. The last thing you expected from someone wearing a fuzzy beret and looking like a sly teddy bear was this blunt conversation. “No one’s that excited when they have to work fifty plus hour weeks to pay the bills. Trust fund baby?” he inquired, sipping calmly.

Yep, there was no fighting the frown now. “No, and I don’t appreciate the judgement. Why can’t I just be happy?”

Minho smirked, “Never said you can’t. I just wanted to see if you had a personality beyond being Positive Polly.”

Your eyes flamed, but your phone buzzed, distracting you before you could smite the snarky boy. You fumbled at your coat pocket, whipping out the device to check for a new message. You slumped—just a spam email.

“Waiting for something important?” Minho asked, tilting his head.

You huffed, shoving the device back in your pocket. “As a matter of fact, yes,” you sassed, tossing your hair over one shoulder. “I’m waiting for a date.”

He hummed at you, expression unreadable. “You’re too excited.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, eyeing the clock on the far wall of the cafe.

“You’re significantly early, watching the clock like a hawk, and they haven’t even texted you an update.” He took a long sip. “What time is your date anyway? Eight in the morning? They’re not coming.”

Your smile faltered again. Damn him, why was a total stranger dimming your joy? You shoved your chair back, even though no tables had opened up yet. You’d wait by the counter and chat with Ruth. Anything was better than this asshole.

Minho glanced over his shoulder, checking the clock himself. “Five past, and still nothing,” he commented.

“Fuck you,” you spat.

A spark appeared in his eyes, and he grinned. “Good to see you have some backbone,” he commented.

You could’ve sworn steam was coming out of your ears, but your phone vibrated again. You checked the lock screen, seeing a new text pop up from Jay: hey I can’t make it. You swiped on the message, but nothing followed it. Seriously? That was it? No explanation, and not even a half-assed apology?

“Told you so.”

You spun to face Minho, glare renewed. “And what makes you so sure of yourself and my date?” you demanded.

He snorted, “Life sucks; so does dating. The only thing you’re guaranteed is disappointment.”

Your anger faded slightly as you watched the boy sip his iced coffee, his silhouette stark against the snow outside. When you took a breath to get past your own mingled frustration—both at Jay and your new snarky companion—you saw the tense lines of his face. You wondered what disappointment had left Minho so defensive.

“Alright, enlighten me,” you said, throwing yourself back in the chair. This time, you settled in, sliding out of your coat and leaning forward with your coffee. “Who broke your heart?”

A look of disgust slid over those pretty features. “No one broke anything,” he scoffed, turning to the window and giving you another dose of his sharp profile. You rested your chin on your hand thoughtfully, just watching him and waiting. “Stop looking at me like that,” he muttered. “You’re not my therapist.”

“But I am a perfectly kind stranger. And strangers are the easiest people to talk to,” you said sunnily.

“And don’t sound so happy.”

“No can do, people call me Sunshine for a reason.”

Minho gave a long-suffering sigh. “I’m not calling you that.”

Now you were the one with a cocky smirk, “Why, does it hurt your delicate masculinity?”

A beat of silence, and then, “One of my best friends is called Sunshine.” Minho looked at you sharply. “I’m not calling you that,” he said again.

You waved him off, oddly touched in spite of his gruff tone. This human version of grumpy cat had a best friend named Sunshine? Incredible, and surprisingly soft of him. “Ok fine, no arguments from me. Tell me about her. Or him, whoever it is,” you stumbled over your words.

Minho didn’t seem to notice your blundering. He stared somewhere beyond your shoulder, “No one broke my heart.” Then his eyes focused on you again as he asserted, “I’ve just experienced enough to know better than to hope blindly. The world isn’t looking out for you.”

Humming, you folded your arms as you considered his statements. “Well, I believe in true love,” you started.

“Why am I not surprised?” Minho groaned, rolling his eyes.

“I also believe in the power of positive thinking,” you continued as if he hadn’t spoken. Ignoring his dramatic moaning, you steamrolled ahead. “Yeah, my morning turned out pretty shitty, but if I just go crawl back in bed, I’ll have wasted a whole day over something as silly as wet jeans.”

“Wet jeans and being stood up.”

“And being stood up,” you allowed, gritting your teeth to maintain a smile. “But if I let that stop me from living my life, then I’ve let the negative win. If I go check out a new dating app or two and keep trying, one day I’ll have something good.”

Minho put his coffee down, resting one hand on the table as he met your eyes, gaze hard. “Listen, nothing good comes out of a dating app. You’re wasting your time. And didn’t you say you hate doing that?”

You wanted to argue, but your friends had told you much of the same. Minho was just less polite in his delivery. But you hadn’t had any luck with real life men, either. Case in point: your irritating argument with the perfectly attractive guy in front of you. So that left apps, even if the pickings were regrettably slim. And only growing slimmer, if the ghost date was any indication. You didn’t have the guts to tell Minho that this wasn’t the first time you’d been stood up.

Then you had an idea. Your grin widened, and Minho’s irritated expression faded into apprehension. “Well if I’m doomed to never find love,” you started, batting your eyelashes teasingly. “Why don’t I look for the love of your life instead?”

Minho blanched, recoiling with enough force that his chair rocked back on two legs. “Yeah, no. I don’t think so, sweetheart.”

“I think it’s a terrific idea,” you beamed at him. “I’ve been a successful matchmaker for a bunch of my friends, too. I’ve just had trouble finding my own love interest.”

“What is this, a rom com?” he hissed.

You clapped your hands, overcome with excitement for the first time since the puddle. “Oh, a romance, I wish,” you nearly swooned at the thought. “I promise I’ll do my best. You’d get along great with one of my friends, they’re just as irritable as you.”

Minho exhaled sharply, massaging his forehead with one hand. He closed his eyes, muttering, “What am I doing here?”

“Wait, wait, I’m getting ahead of myself. No matchmaking until I know you better,” you amended, whipping out a notebook and pen from your bag. You had just about everything in there—you never knew what emergency might pop up, like brainstorming a match for a stranger. “What are some of your hobbies? Favorite color? Ooh, what about first date activities you love? Oh my goodness, wait, are you looking for men or women?”

Part of you expected Minho to shove his chair back and leave. You wouldn’t be too upset, that just meant you’d have the table to yourself, even if you weren’t waiting on a date anymore. But you didn’t totally hate this guy. And another part of you kind of felt bad for him. He’d never experienced love! Not that you’d had a taste of true love, either, but you knew what was out there. And it was a shame that he didn’t see that too. It was like...someone hating your favorite holiday—unacceptable, if only because you wanted everyone to enjoy it as much as you did.

You begrudgingly admitted that another teeny tiny part of you thought he was too attractive to be so cynical of love. Some lucky girl out there was waiting for Minho, and you were gonna help her out, even if it meant dragging the man kicking and screaming towards her.

But Minho didn’t do what you expected. He didn’t storm off, coffee in hand, scarf flapping in the wind dramatically. He sighed and stood up, but made no move for his coat. “If we’re doing this, I need more coffee,” he said, then turned and made a beeline for the counter without any further explanation.

You blinked after him, more than a bit surprised. He was...going along with this? You tapped the pen against your chin thoughtfully, watching his shoulders flex beneath his turtleneck as he talked to Ruth. His head turned slightly, and you caught a glimpse of his smile—a real one—taking your breath away.

Now, if only you could get him to smile like that for any potential dates. You clicked your pen with renewed vigor, laughing when Minho approached with a new coffee, exasperation written into every line of his face.

* * * * *

It was a lovely Thursday night, and you were curled up on the couch in your comfiest pajamas. Your only companions were a blanket, a mug of tea, and your phone, which you checked every fifteen seconds. The first time all week that Minho hadn’t answered your messages, and it was the night of his first date. You were buzzing with anticipation, practically vibrating as you waited for news, not caring who it came from first.

Finally, you gave up waiting, throwing the blanket as you went to reheat your tea, since you’d let it grow cold while refreshing your messages. The second you reached the kitchen, however, you heard a buzz. You dashed to the couch, scrambling for your phone to find a text from Mari:

He had to dip early, lame date

You nearly screeched. He left? Your fingers pounded the screen:

What!?!?!! Did he say whyyy?

Mari’s response was short and to the point:

An “emergency”

You could read between the lines. Mari was irritated, to say the least, since the blind date had been your brilliant idea. But what on earth had happened with Minho? Your stomach dropped, considering that he might have an actual emergency. You quickly tapped out a message to him to check in, gnawing your lip in worry.

Hey, Mari said you had an emergency, is everything ok?

You waited what felt like ten thousand years before finally seeing the little bubbles appear. His message, however, was not worth the wait:

Didn’t get on with her

You fumed, pressing dial on his contact with enough force, you were amazed your screen didn’t crack. “You left because you didn’t like her?” you screeched as soon as he picked up.

“Yes.”

Gaping like a fish, you fumbled for words to explain how bad that was. “You can’t just—”

“But I did,” Minho cut you off.

“But you can’t,” you said, exasperated. “Jeez, I thought you knew what you were doing. Obviously not. You need a practice date or something so my friends don’t murder you.”

Now it was Minho’s turn to squawk indignantly. “I do not need practice,” he started.

“Yes, obviously you do. You might look like a player but you’ve obviously never talked to a girl for more than ten minutes,” you scolded him. “Who leaves in the middle of a date? With that bad of an excuse?”

“I hate wasting my time. Didn’t we discuss how we should avoid doing that with our love lives,” he snarked.

You groaned, “There’s a difference between not wasting your time and being rude as heck.”

“So what? She was abrasive, rude, cynical, and had a terrible sense of humor,” Minho said, as casually as if he was discussing the weather. “I can’t believe you’re friends.”

“That’s a pretty great description of you, too,” you sassed back, irritation taking over. “We might not be that close, but you can’t just insult everyone I set you up with.”

“Who said I wanted you to set me up with anyone?”

“I assumed you did, otherwise why are you going along with this?” you tried your best to calm down, lower your voice. But something about Minho just put your back up.

“Uh,” Minho actually seemed lost for words. Your ears perked up, eager to catch his answer. “My mom wants to set me up with her friends’ daughters,” he tossed out at last.

Seemed a bit too easy. “Sure,” you drawled, leaning back on the couch.

“Yes, really,” he sneered, and you giggled, picturing the exact expression on his face.

“Ok, whatever you say,” you allowed, laughing slightly. “But you’re still going on a practice date. Tomorrow night, six o’clock. Meet me at the cafe. If you’re not there, I’m gonna find your mom and help her out.”

You hung up on him before he could argue with you, grinning madly as you concocted your plan.

* * * * *

You half expected to wait for Minho to show up, much like your friend did, but much to your surprise, he was waiting for you under the awning when you arrived. “You’re late,” Minho accused, and you grinned sheepishly. You may or may not have lied about the time. Just in case.

“The queen is never late. Everyone else is simply early,” you quipped. Minho rolled his eyes—absolutely what you expected. You giggled, linking your arm through his and tugging him down the sidewalk with you.

“Woah,” Minho yanked at his arm, trying to free himself. “If you wanted to hold hands, you could have asked.”

“You’re too much of a grinch, you’d just say no.”

“Exactly. It’s called consent, sweetheart.”

He nearly fell at the sudden freedom when you released him, shoving your hands deeper into your pockets to escape the chill. “Alright, follow me then, you unromantic dork.” He muttered under his breath as you skipped away, having fun despite his attitude. Time to show him what a real date looked like.

Five seconds later, and not even two blocks from the cafe, Minho groaned, “Are we there yet?”

“No.”

A pause, then, “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” you told him, not for the first time. He’d texted you all night, demanding to know, but your lips were sealed.

Except a certain someone seemed determined to annoy the answers out of you. “Are we there yet?”

You sighed, your skip feeling a little less peppy. “No.”

“Are we—”

“Minho,” you ground out. “If you ask me that one more time, I’m taking you to get your nails done.”

“Ok, sure. I could use a bit of pampering,” he said, the epitome of casual.

You stared at him. “This feels like a trick,” you said slowly.

A grin flashed, “That’s because it is. It’s after six, they’re all closed by now.” But then he frowned slightly. “Now you have me wanting a manicure though, I’ve never gotten one.”

Your brows were practically in your hairline but you just nodded. “Ok, another time, then,” you agreed. You caught sight of a familiar street sign and quickened your steps. “Almost there,” you were nearly vibrating in excitement. You felt Minho’s eyes on you, your skin prickling with awareness, but you ignored him in favor of racing around the street corner. And there it was—the zoo! All lit up...all lit…...not lit up at all. Your feet stumbled to a halt.

“So the zoo is open at night now?” Minho inquired at your shoulder.

You gaped at the dark expanse before you. “But where are the lights?” Because indeed, not a single light was on in the zoo. You’d just visited, not too long ago, and they had been open for night visits, so guests could walk around and see the trees all lit up, and wave hello to a few animals in the enclosures.

“Lights?”

“The Christmas lights,” you cried out, frantic. “They were up the last time I was here.”

“You mean a month ago? For Christmas? Back when it was still December?” Minho questioned you. You nearly snapped back before you realized. It was January. February next week. Of course the lights were down, what kind of idiot were you?

You groaned in defeat, slumping against the wall and sliding down to a crouch. You threw your arms over your head. “I don’t know what we’re going to do, then. I’m sorry I made you walk all this way,” you mumbled into your knees, wishing you could disappear into the sidewalk. Gosh, and you’d really dragged him along, hadn’t you? He obviously hadn’t been that excited, and all of your mysterious “it’s a surprise” nonsense only made this a bigger disappointment.

“It’s a Friday night, things are still open, you know,” Minho pointed out. “So what if you somehow forgot a whole month happened. I forget the year sometimes.”

“What are you, an old man?” you tried to perk up, but the tease fell flat.

“I’m only twenty-two. You must be ancient.” You picked up your head to look at him. A faint smile curled on his lips as he played along.

“Oh my gosh, I’m your noona. If you’re a grandpa, then I’m practically in the grave,” you forced out a chuckle.

Minho’s smile grew, and he extended a hand. “Come on, get up. Night’s still young.”

For a moment, you simply stared at his hand. Then you met his dark gaze, “You aren’t going to take advantage of this? I thought you hated the whole practice date idea.”

He sighed, wiggling his fingers at you. “I don’t hate spending time with you, alright? Now get up or I’m leaving you here.”

Your mouth twitched, a true smile threatening to form, and not just a cover-up. You slid your hand in his gratefully, and Minho pulled you to your feet with more strength than you thought he had. You blinked at him, realizing he hadn’t let your hand go yet. But the second his eyes followed your gaze, he dropped it, sliding his hands into his pants pockets instead.

“So where to?” Minho asked.

You opened your mouth to respond, remembering a pretty little outdoor skating rink, but the skies cracked open, interrupting you with a sudden deluge. You gasped as the first fat raindrops splattered on your forehead, eyes widening before you made a mad dash for the nearest storefront, Minho already a few steps ahead of you.

You’d barely been in the rain for a minute, but the icy water had your teeth chattering already. Had it been any colder, this would’ve been pretty snow. Instead, you got an arctic firehose.

Arms wrapped tightly around yourself, you peered down the street. Beside you, Minho checked a weather app, hissing through his teeth. “Looks like rain all night,” he muttered.

You groaned again, wanting to cry. You’d completely messed up the evening, first with the lights, and now by not checking the weather. You’d planned an outdoor date, why hadn’t you checked?

A hand brushed your shoulder lightly, barely detectable through your coat. “Um, this might not be what you had planned, but my apartment is actually on this street. Wanna just order pizza?”

Your first instinct was a vehement “no”, but you stopped that answer on the tip of your tongue. Minho wasn’t one of the sleazy guys you’d gone out with in the past, the ones who’d thought an apartment invite was more than that. Plus, this wasn’t a real date or anything. It was a practice date, just pals, nothing crazy about that. So why couldn’t you grab pizza at his place? Especially with the monsoon and a long walk back to your own place. And no umbrella.

You found yourself nodding, shivers wracking your body. Minho’s teeth flashed in another fierce grin, “Alright, sweetheart, let’s make a run for it. In three, two, one—”

The two of you raced down the slick sidewalks, dodging lampposts and puddles alike. You skidded to a stop at one of the apartment buildings, nearly slamming into Minho’s back as he yanked the door open, and the two of you tumbled into the warm lobby. Once out of the wet, Minho shook his head like a dog, water droplets spraying everywhere, and you shrieked, hands coming up to protect yourself.

“Sorry,” Minho laughed, not sounding apologetic in the least. “I’m on the sixth floor, so we can take the elevator,” he said, pointing you in the right direction.

The ride up was awkward; the only sound was your jacket zipper rattling from the force of your shivers. Minho unlocked the door to his apartment, waving a hand dramatically. You stepped inside tentatively, toeing off your boots by the door. You watched Minho follow suit, then pad over to a closet along one wall. Your confusion abated when he emerged with towels, passing one to you with raised brows. The two of you were still soaking wet, and you didn’t want to track rainwater all over his apartment.

Minho was already drying his head off one-handed. When he stopped, letting the towel slip down to rest on his shoulders, you giggled at the sight of his hair. He made a face, only adding to the comic effect of his hair standing on end.

“I know you drink coffee, but what about hot tea?” he asked, making his way to the kitchen while you continued to dab at your clothes.

You nodded enthusiastically, eyeing the space from where you stood in the entryway. It was pretty minimal, not a ton of color or anything, but cozy. Black couch, gray curtains, some photos on the wall. Fairly tidy, but definitely nothing out of a magazine. A meow at your feet interrupted your train of thought, and you looked down to coo at the cats that were slowly approaching. “Well aren’t you gorgeous,” you complimented the bravest of the three, who nosed at your hand gingerly.

“Soonie, Doongi, and Dori,” Minho said, pointing at each cat in turn. He leaned on the counter while waiting for the water to boil.

“They’re adorable,” you beamed at him. “And much more friendly.”

“Hey,” he narrowed his eyes. “I’m friendly.”

“Yeah, right,” you laughed at him. Your mirth was interrupted by a fierce shiver, reminding you that you might not be dripping wet, but your clothes were still icy cold.

Minho eyed you as you wrapped your arms around yourself. “I have sweats you can borrow.”

You started to protest, but the next shudder of cold made you change your mind. Besides, you didn’t want to get his furniture soaking wet. So you nodded and waited while Minho disappeared into the bedroom. You shuffled awkwardly to the kitchen, toes curling in your socks.

Minho reappeared. “Here,” he said, voice gruff. He pressed a pair of sweatpants into your hands, along with a fuzzy looking sweatshirt. Your turtleneck wasn’t too wet, just a little damp along the neckline, but you slid the extra layer over your head gratefully. Before you had to ask him, Minho pointed to a half-open door. “The bathroom. I’m going to get something dry on, too,” he added.

You smiled in relief, escaping to the small bathroom gratefully. As soon as the door was shut, you were scrabbling at the soaking wet denim, peeling it down your legs. You grimaced, not missing this experience at all after the last time. Minho’s sweatpants were soft and oh so warm by comparison. And fleece-lined, too. You slung your jeans over the shower rod to dry, rolled the ankles of your borrowed pants—just enough so you wouldn’t be drowning in excess material—and went in search of that promised hot tea.

You found Minho on the phone in the kitchen. When he noticed you, he waved you closer. “Do you like anything on your pizza?” he asked.

“Um,” you scrambled to collect your thoughts. “Cheese?”

Minho cracked a smile. “Cheese it is then. And peppers, onions, cherry tomatoes, garlic, basil,” he rattled off what sounded like an entire grocery list. When he noticed you staring, Minho raised his brows in confusion. You shook your head with a small laugh, leaving him to it. On the counter behind him, you found two mugs, tea bags already steeping. You wrapped your cold fingers around one, humming in contentment. Finally, the shivers stopped.

“Wanna watch a movie while we wait for pizza?” Minho asked, but then he froze, grimacing. “Oh shit, sorry. I mean, you can go home if you want. I don’t mean to keep you if you don’t want to stay. I have an umbrella, and you can keep the sweats I guess—”

“Sure how about a romance?” you interrupted him, grabbing your tea and making your way to the couch. You plopped down, eyeing Minho, who was still stiff as a board by the counter. You giggled at him, “Maybe you’ll learn a thing or two from Mr. Darcy.”

That seemed to knock him out of his stupor. An indignant expression wiped away any trace of sheepishness, and he stomped over to find the remote. “Yeah right,” he scoffed. “I’m not watching a romance.”

“A romantic comedy then,” you decided, snatching the remote out of his hands.

He grabbed it back, lightning quick. “Action.”

You narrowed your eyes, crossing your arms defiantly. “Drama. Fight me and I’ll demand a Hallmark movie.”

Minho smirked, “Fight me and I’ll make it a horror movie.”

You groaned in disgust, glaring at him. “Ok, fine, let’s fight over it. Rock, paper, scissors?”

He rolled his eyes, but ended up on the couch beside you, holding one fist out to meet yours. “Best out of three,” he smirked. “Get ready for a zombie fest.”

After a crushing defeat, Minho slumped on the couch, moaning dramatically when you selected Pride and Prejudice. You giggled at the grumpy man beside you, and his similarity to Mr. Darcy. Most notably their matching pouts.

To your surprise, Minho didn’t interrupt the movie once. Sure, he grumbled at first, but when you snuck a peek at him after about half an hour, you caught him watching intently.

You’d seen the movie at least a dozen times by now, but you still couldn’t resist the pull, and your heart fluttered at the brush of hands the way it did every time. Your breath caught at every interaction, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away to save your life. Until the pizza arrived, at least. You were about to press play, two slices at the ready, when Minho looked over at you. “Why are you so in love with the idea of love?” he asked.

You gaped at him for a moment, taken aback. “What?”

“Not just the movie, but real life,” he said, twisting to face you fully. “Why are you so determined to find Mr. Right? Or to set me up on the perfect date?”

“Don’t you want to find someone?” you questioned him, backing away from the question. “You can’t possibly be putting up with me just to avoid your mom playing matchmaker. I’m literally no better than that.”

He scoffed, “You haven’t met my mother.”

“Maybe I should team up with her.”

“Oh please no.”

You grinned, grabbing a slice of pizza. “Oh please yes,” you teased. “Two matchmakers are better than one.”

Minho shot you an unimpressed look. “I told her I already have a girlfriend, but I felt bad lying to her, so I’m hanging out with you instead.”

You nearly choked on your pizza. So you were a pity friend, great. Or worse, you weren’t even real friends, you were just a convenient excuse to alleviate Minho’s guilt complex. You set the slice back down, no longer hungry.

“Hey, you know I’m joking, right? That was a joke. I’m sarcastic all the time, remember?” Minho nudged you.

“Yeah, sure.”

Minho sighed, leaning over to bump his shoulder into yours. “I might not love the matchmaking, or this dumb movie, but I guess I’m glad we bumped into each other so I could tell you to dump ghost boy from Tinder.” You snorted, biting back a small smile. Noticing this, Minho forged ahead, “And this better not be part of the act to get me to forget my first question, because you still haven’t answered.”

“Minho,” you whined. “Why does it matter?”

“Pretend it’s girls night. We’re practically having a sleepover, minus the nail polish and braids. This is the part where we talk about boys,” he smirked.

“I hate you.”

“Do we need to watch 10 Things I Hate About You next?”

Your brows rose. “I thought you didn’t like romance, how do you even know that movie?”

“.....No reason. Now answer the question already,” he huffed.

You sighed, curling up on your end of the couch. “I guess it’s just something I’m not good at, so I can’t help wanting it to fall in my lap,” you said. “I can’t pull all nighters to find love, that’s not how it works.”

“Well no, studying isn’t the answer,” Minho agreed.

“My parents have the kind of love I want. I’m not rosy-eyed or anything, I know it’s hard work and commitment. But the friendship—that’s what I love the most.”

The two of you sat in silence for a little while, Minho chewing on your words. And you mused on your recent attempts to find a partner. Perhaps dating apps weren’t the way to go, you admitted. Not to Minho, though. He’d never let you hear the end of it.

“Maybe,” Minho started. “You should look for new friends instead of new boyfriends.”

“What do you think this is?” you laughed. “I’ve been setting you up, not looking on Tinder or whatever for myself.”

“Good, you’ve wasted enough time on those trash apps already,” he groused.

You grinned at him, “So I guess you don’t want me to start looking for Bumble girls, huh?”

“Don’t even think about it.”

You giggled, but Minho pressed play on the movie before you could tease him any more. To your surprise, he looked as interested in the ending as you were. You doubted he was misty-eyed like you, though.

A yawn snuck up on you, and you glanced at the clock in surprise. How had it gotten so late? “I should probably be going,” you started.

“I’ll walk you home. It’s late.” Minho grabbed your dishes to bring to the sink, snatching them right out of your hands. You blinked after him, then shrugged, making your way to the bathroom.

Unfortunately, your jeans were still damp, but they’d be fine for the walk home. You squeezed yourself back into the denim, emerging with the borrowed sweatpants. “Laundry?” you asked, since Minho was busy with the dishes.

“Just inside the bedroom, next to the door,” he gestured with his chin, hands still sudsy.

You slid the sweatshirt off as well, placing both in the hamper by the door. Despite your curiosity, you didn’t linger, but you caught a glimpse of an equally tidy bedroom. And a large bed with dark sheets. Why was your heart pounding? Mr. Darcy hadn’t been that distracting. You shook your head, hurrying out of the room. Only then you came face-to-face with Minho, and you had to fight a blush. What on earth was wrong with you?

The awkwardness continued, and you felt strange and itchy the whole walk home with Minho. You were hyper aware of how close you were under the umbrella, of the way your elbows brushed every few steps. Minho was surprisingly quiet, as well. Ordinarily, he’d be making fun of you by now.

As you walked the last block together, you tilted your head to look at him. “So tonight was a fail,” you said.

“What the heck are you talking about?”

“The practice date?” you giggled at his expression. “Total failure.”

Minho’s frown deepened, “I thought it was fun. Even if you made me watch a period drama.”

“Oh no, it was wonderful, but the date part of it was a bust. We need to do another, since tonight doesn’t count,” you told him, slowing to a stop in front of your building’s entrance.

“Well what does count?” Minho asked, exasperation dripping from his tone.

“Hmm, something in public. No one ever does a private first date, and obviously that’s what you need the most help with,” you sassed. “Maybe I’ll kick your ass in laser tag or something.”

“Maybe I should beat you in bowling,” Minho retorted.

You hummed, tapping a finger off your chin. “You might be onto something, actually. How about you come up with our next practice date. That’s your homework.”

“Since when is this a class? With homework assignments?” Minho demanded.

“Oh shut it, or I’m making profiles for you on every dating app I know.”

* * * * *

You looked over at Minho, suspicion tugging at you. “So when you said you should beat me at bowling, did you mean it?”

“I’m going to try and win at whatever we do, I’m competitive like that,” Minho said, holding the door open for you.

“No, I mean, are you secretly a professional bowler or something?” you corrected, making your way towards the shoe rental.

Minho chuckled, “I doubt you’ll believe whatever I say.”

You opened your mouth to object, but decided he was right. “You better not be hustling me,” you threatened, slapping cash down on the counter.

“Pay per game or pay per hour?” the attendant asked.

Minho cheekily slid a few bills beside yours. “Best out of three?”

“Insufferable,” you muttered, watching as the attendant took his money instead of yours.

At least Minho looked just as goofy as you did. The brightly colored bowling shoes looked very out of place against his “cool guy” outfit. You’d already poked fun at him. Who showed up to a date wearing sweats? Not that he looked bad in them, but you had at least dressed up a bit. Then again, you might not have worn a dress if you had known that bowling was on the agenda. You tugged at the sleeves of your sweater dress, feeling a bit out of place as you looked at all of the other couples. Jeans, slacks, more jeans...why had you decided to dress up? You should’ve known Minho would pick something casual.

“Hey, you wanna go first, or should I?” Minho’s voice cut through your thoughts, and you shook the negativity away gratefully.

“You go ahead,” you called over to him, trying to find a smile. What were you so worked up about? It’s not like this was a real date. You could have shown up in a potato sack if you wanted, you weren’t trying to impress anyone, least of all Minho. On that thought, maybe he had the better idea after all. You eyed his sweatpants enviously. You knew how comfy they were, and they’d doubtless be better than the tights you were terrified of ripping.

“Ok sweetheart, prepare for a thrashing,” Minho joked, selecting a bowling ball from the rack.

“You prepare for a thrashing,” you countered, despite knowing it was an empty threat. You probably needed the bumpers if you wanted anything but gutter balls. Then you caught sight of the names on the board. “Did you seriously make my nickname ‘Loser’? What are we, five?”

Minho smirked as he passed you. “We’ve been over this, I’m a grandpa, you’ve got one foot in the grave. Childish antics are beneath us,” he said with a laugh.

“So you’re ‘Lee Know’?” you inquired, curious about his chosen nickname.

Minho turned to face you, tilting his head. “Yeah, that’s what my friends call me.”

“...Am I supposed to call you that?”

“We’re friends, aren’t we? Call me whatever you want. Just not ‘asshole’,” he joked. Your heart warmed, and a true smile found its way to your lips. You watched as Minho wiggled a little, eyeing the pins at the end of the lane. Then, to your utmost surprise, he turned around and rolled the ball between his legs.

“What?” you choked on a laugh, nearly falling over at the sight. Minho backed up, and you both watched as the ball rolled down the lane, painfully slow. It ended up knocking down half of the pins, much to your surprise. Minho just looked proud as he picked up another ball. Miracle of miracles, he wound up with a spare.

You had no words, didn’t even bother trying to explain how his technique had any sort of success. Your own attempt was...pitiful by comparison. Your form looked good, but both balls wound up in the gutter in a matter of seconds.

Minho didn’t waste the opportunity to gloat. “Told you I’d beat you at bowling,” he said with a wink.

You grumbled, flopping down onto the bench next to him. “I didn’t expect you to be successful at the toddler technique.”

“Give it a go, maybe we’ll change your nickname if you win,” he laughed, getting up for his turn.

Halfway through the game, you even tried the ‘toddler technique’. This was also a fail, made worse with the mortifying realization that your underwear would be visible if you bent over too far. When your attempt ended up in the gutter, you resolved to get bumpers for the next game.

But Minho had other plans. You had just approached the lane when you felt a hand on your shoulder. “Keep your wrist straight, you keep twisting it at the last second,” he said.

You turned to face him, finding him close behind you. “Anything else, wise one?”

“Don’t overthink it,” he smiled at you. This close, you could swear his eyes were twinkling. “We can both go get bumpers next round, I need them almost as much as you. I’m amazed at my own streak of luck tonight.”

“I’m terrible at bowling,” you whined, looking away from him. Your cheeks felt warm. Gosh, it was embarrassing to be this bad.

“We can go do something else, we don’t even need to finish this game, let alone all three. As long as you’re having fun, I’m happy.”

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, but looked away quickly. He was watching you so intently, the flush burned hotter, threatening to run down your neck. “I’m sorry you paid for so many games. We can definitely finish them, it’s fine—”

“I’ll never make you do something you don’t want to do,” Minho murmured. You looked at him in surprise, surprised to hear him sounding sincere rather than snarky. “Otherwise, I’d be a shitty friend, wouldn’t I?”

“Right, yeah. An asshole friend,” you agreed, nearly stumbling over the words.

“Ok, I’ll let you focus on your first strike of the night. Don’t overthink it,” he reminded you, walking back to the bench.

You nodded, ignoring the tight feeling in your stomach that reminded you of disappointment. And you sank another one right into the gutter.

Minho’s solution to the bowling fiasco was consolation ice cream. Somewhat surprising, since a part of you had expected him to gloat. Instead, he talked about anything and everything but bowling, entertaining you while you both sat at the window of the local shop. You simply watched him, enraptured. He had hardly opened up at all to you at first. Visiting his apartment felt like the first peek into the real Minho. The happy memories captured in picture frames, the handmade mementos here and there on shelves, all hints as to the soft interior of your once-prickly friend. Now he was regaling you with stories of his best friends—brothers, by the sound of it. Loving rivalry, playful banter, sibling torment. And the look on his face...pride. He was proud of them, his family.

Then you paused, tilted your head to look at him anew. When had Minho stopped being prickly? Where was the cynical, negative, angsty boy you’d befriended, partly out of spite? When had he stopped trying to hold you back with barbed wire edges?

When Minho caught your gaze, he lifted one brow, mouth twitching into a crooked smile. “See something you like?” he sassed you. But his remark was devoid of bitterness. It wasn’t mocking, it was warm, inviting. It was asking you to join in on the joke.

“Yeah,” you said softly. Then you turned up the wattage on your smile, grinning widely at him. “What’s cookin’, good lookin’?”

Minho rolled his eyes at your antics, spinning his ice cream cone between his fingers. But hidden behind your grin was more than a little truth.

* * * * *

You knocked on the door, stepping back tentatively. You could hear raucous laughter on the other side, which would ordinarily have you curious, maybe a little excited to join in. Not tonight. Right now, standing in the hallway outside Minho’s apartment, you were nervous as hell. And on top of it all, you were nearly an hour late, having dragged your feet the whole way there.

“Stop it, this is ridiculous,” you muttered to yourself, shifting from foot to foot. It felt like meeting the parents, which was dumb. Firstly, you and Minho were not dating. Secondly, these were his best friends, not his parents. And thirdly, you and Minho were good friends. You had nothing to worry about. Absolutely nothing.

Which was why you were currently worrying all over the place about meeting Minho’s best friends. What if they hated you? Or worse, what if they pitied you? You thought you’d disappear into a crack in the earth if that happened.

Before you could spend too long contemplating your inevitable end, the door swung open, and a boy came rushing out at you. You gasped, jumping back before he could run into you.

“Sorry, sorry, excuse me!” he blurted, skidding to a stop, then immediately taking off running down the hallway.

You blinked in confusion, but your eyes only widened when a second boy came barrelling out of the apartment after the first. “Minho?”

Minho paused briefly, eyes alighting on your stiff figure. “Hi! Um, I need to take care of something, but I’ll be right back. Go on in,” he waved at you, breaking into a jog, and then a sprint.

Immensely confused, you peered into the apartment, now that the door was wide open. Now or never, you told yourself firmly. Easing through the doorway, you caught sight of six more boys in various states of chaos. Upon noticing your entrance, they all froze. “Uh, hello there,” came a voice on your right. You looked over to see two boys in the kitchen, appearing to be mid-struggle with a bag of popcorn. “You must be Minho’s friend, he said you’d be coming.”

You gave a tiny wave, pasting on a sunshine smile. “Hi guys, it’s nice to meet you, I think? Should I be concerned about the escapee?”

Popcorn boy number two laughed, arms bulging as he ripped open the bag. “Oh no, Hyunjin will be fine. Minho hasn’t made him eat toilet paper in years, he’s above that now.” You must have looked concerned, because the boy chuckled again, waving you off. “It’s all empty threats with that one. Mostly. I’m Changbin, by the way.”

Popcorn boy number one stepped forward, extending a hand to shake. “I’m Chan, and this is our menagerie of chaos. Let me introduce you to everyone,” he offered. You grinned at him, relieved.

By the time Minho returned, practically dragging Hyunjin with him, you were giggling on the couch with the rest of the boys, embroiled in a fierce MarioKart race. With Hyunjin still trapped in a headlock, Minho paused to watch. You just barely caught a glimpse of him from the corner of your eye, too focused on staying on the track. Jeongin had chosen Rainbow Road for your first match, and you were determined to crush them in the dust. Even if it had been several years since you last played.

You watched as your character was knocked off the edge, a cry of dismay falling from your lips. “Dang it, I wasn’t even in first place, what gives?”

Han grinned victoriously, only to cry out when he accidentally drove over the edge as well. “Friends fall together?” he joked.

“You made me go ziplining. Alone,” Minho said, announcing his presence at last.

“Uhhhh,” Han fumbled for an excuse. “You love me anyway, though, right?”

Before Minho could retort, Seungmin stood up. “You can play next, if you want,” he offered.

The rest of you blinked at him in surprise, before looking at his screen and realizing he’d already won the race. Jeongin groaned dramatically, flailing on the couch as he came in second. You and Han just gave up entirely, letting your characters fall off the track once more. Meanwhile, Minho finally decided to release Hyunjin, and the blonde escaped to the other end of the couch, diving into a bowl of chips like nothing had happened.

Felix looked excited, so you tossed him your remote for the next round. “I believe I was promised food,” you said, arching an eyebrow in Minho’s direction.

“I believe I told you to arrive at six,” he fired back, stalking towards you. He finally stopped a foot away, looming over you.

You smirked at him, “What did I tell you on our first date?”

The room went silent, and you froze, realizing your mistake. “You guys are dating and you didn’t tell us?” Han exclaimed, eyes wide.

Your mouth opened and closed, but you couldn’t seem to find any words.

“Oh yeah, real fancy dates, too. We had dinner at the Eiffel tower last week,” Minho drawled. “Isn’t that right, sugar plum?” The cherry on top was when he reached out, lightly pinching your cheek.

A stranger might have mistaken his dry tone for sincerity, but everyone in the room knew Minho’s humor well. Half of the group dissolved into giggles. Changbin rolled his eyes and threw a pillow, but Minho caught it before it could smack into you. “No wonder you don’t have a girlfriend,” Changbin joked.

“All those promises and no follow through,” Han clucked his tongue in mock-disapproval, then ducked when Minho tossed the pillow at him next.

Your cheeks threatened to catch on fire again. The situation only worsened when you met Minho’s dark gaze, his eyes ensnaring you. “So,” you threw out desperately, clapping your hands together. “The food? Or am I going to starve? Not very boyfriend-like,” you tried to laugh. The joke must have been convincing, because the boys merely chuckled, going back to their game.

Minho still hadn’t moved from where he stood over you. Instead of moving back so you could get up, he extended a hand. You bit your lip, teeth digging in, but you placed your hand in his rather than make a scene. The last thing you wanted was more attention, especially with your cheeks warming up past their usual temperature.

Fortunately, he released you as soon as you regained your footing. Your fingers flexed lightly, hand falling back to your side. You kept your chin high as you followed Minho to the kitchen, ignoring the prickling feeling that the boys were still watching you.

“Pizza?” you blurted out, incredulous. “Don’t you eat anything else?”

Minho snorted, leaning against the counter. “For the record, I do know how to cook.”

You snooped in the fridge, disbelieving. “Of course, all evidence points to you being a five star chef,” you said, casting a pointed look at the empty shelves within.

He chuckled, folding his arms while he watched you investigate. “Sweetheart, if you wanted me to cook for you, all you had to do was ask.”

You hummed, closing the refrigerator once more. “I’m kinda afraid you’ll burn something, to be honest,” you teased, grabbing a plate from the cabinet and selecting a slice of now-cold pizza. You popped the pizza in the microwave, then relaxed against the counter opposite Minho. He was still watching you intently, and you frowned. “What? Do I have something on my face?” you asked him.

Minho shook his head wordlessly. Self-consciousness took hold, and you looked down awkwardly, brushing your hair behind one ear. “Hey, I’m sorry about what I said. I totally didn’t mean it the way it came out.”

“I know,” he said, one corner of his mouth quirking up in a half smile.

You tipped your chin again, unable to look at him for long. Even if Minho seemed to forgive your blunder, you still couldn’t believe you’d blurted that out. Your hair fell in front of your face again, and you let it, happy to hide behind the locks.

Then another pair of feet appeared a few inches from yours. Plain black socks next to your patterned ones, covered in cartoon rainbows. Then a butterfly touch along the side of your face, soft enough that you almost doubted the sensation. You lifted your gaze, but this time, Minho’s eyes weren’t on yours. Instead, his laser focus was directed on the hair he was gently situating behind your ear again.

You realized you had forgotten to breathe when he finally took a step back, and your lungs remembered to inflate.

“For the record, you’re right,” Minho said softly. “The queen is never late.”

* * * * *

It was nearing midnight by the time Minho’s friends started leaving. You eyed the clock, then went to grab your shoes as well. “I better get going, I want to get home sometime before dawn,” you joked.

“How close do you live? Are you taking the bus?” Chan asked, worry evident in his tone.

You waved him off, “I’m just a few blocks away, not too long of a walk. Bus doesn’t run after ten or so, anyway.”

Chan frowned, but Minho cut him off before he could say anything. “I was going to walk her home, it’s pretty late.”

That was a surprise to you, but seemed to alleviate Chan’s concern. The others waved goodbye on their way out, Chan following them. “Nice to meet you,” he said, shooting you a quick grin before closing the door behind him.

“You really don’t have to,” you started.

“I want to. It’s late,” Minho reminded you.

“I didn’t argue last time, but I didn’t want to steal your umbrella.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “I’m not some little girl in need of protection. It’s a perfectly safe neighborhood.”

Minho didn’t look up, busy tying his shoes. “I like walking.”

“At midnight?”

“Any time of day, really.”

You rolled your eyes. “Do you walk Jeongin home, too?”

“Sure did. He moved in with Han, though, so I don’t anymore,” he said simply. “You don’t have a roommate. If no one’s there to make sure you get home safe, I want to walk with you.”

You gaped at him, unable to fault his logic. And not really wanting to. “Thanks,” you murmured, scuffing one shoe into the floor.

Minho stood up again, a crooked smile on his lips. “Don’t mention it,” he said, snagging his keys. “After you.”

Walking home with Minho, you were reminded of the first time. Then, you’d been so awkward, quiet. Unsure of yourself. You’d been worried that you were some kind of pity friend at first, but after getting to know Minho, you knew that wasn’t the case. And now that you’d grown comfortable around each other, you could hardly get him to shut up. Even now, he was talking about his dance team’s newest choreo, his words running together from excitement.

You smiled, just listening. This was all you really wanted, if you let yourself admit it. The Tinder dates were just a shit attempt at finding someone to sit and listen to for hours. You wanted movie nights and quiet mornings with someone who cared about you. You wanted a cute little house and kids and a dog. Maybe a cat. Maybe three.

Shit.

You were so wrapped up in your realization that you didn’t realize you’d reached your apartment building until Minho snagged your elbow to pull you to a stop. “This isn’t a midnight hike, where do you think you’re going?” he asked incredulously.

You laughed nervously, “Oh, sorry, I was pretty lost in thought.”

“Apparently. Were you listening to a word I said? Some friend you are,” he snorted.

Friend. Right. Your realization didn’t mean much. Why were you surprised? You hadn’t had luck in the romantic department in years, why would that change now? Minho was your friend, and it was obvious that his opinion of you wasn’t going to change. Why would it? He was way out of your league.

Gosh, now you felt like a fool. You’d really just daydreamed about a happily ever after with him. Why did you ever bother getting your hopes up? You were always bound for disappointment. Hadn’t your crappy dates taught you anything?

Minho called your name, bringing you back down to reality. “Sorry,” you muttered, fumbling in your bag to find your keys.

“Are you alright?” he asked. Shoot, now he sounded concerned.

You pasted a sunny smile on your face, “Totally fine. Thank you for walking me back. I won’t keep you any longer.”

You turned away to walk up the steps, but the smile fell as soon as he was out of sight. How were you only just coming to the realization that you were halfway—or perhaps all the way—in love with him? His face was burned into your mind’s eye. Brows furrowed in confusion, slight pout, and those damned eyes. You’d probably been in love with his eyes from the beginning.

“I only agreed to let you play matchmaker so I could see you again.”

You stopped at the top of the steps, not quite believing your ears. Turning slightly, you looked at Minho over your shoulder.

Once he had your attention, he continued, “I bailed on the date with your friend because I knew you’d yell at me.”

Lips parting in surprise, you turned to face him fully. Minho put a foot on the first step, gaze locked on yours. You weren’t sure what he saw when he looked at you, but his mouth softened into a slight smile.

“I was going to do the classic move of teaching you to bowl, but I chickened out,” he said. “I wish I hadn’t.”

“What are you...why are you telling me this?” you asked, fingers curling nervously.

He ascended another step, “You only smile like that when you’re sad. When you start getting in your own head about what you deserve.” Another step, “And I’m tired of hiding.”

Now he was only two steps away. Close enough to touch, if you dared to reach out. You didn’t. “We’re friends,” you said, voice small.

“Yeah, we are,” he agreed. Then he bit his lip, drawing your attention like bees to honey. You sucked in a breath, closing your eyes firmly. When you opened them, Minho was on the step just below you. “Tell me to stop,” he said, voice low. You didn’t.

Your breath stuttered to a stop, your whole body stilling at the electric shock of his lips on yours. For a moment, you were frozen, utterly focused on the whisper of a touch. Then Minho pulled away, and you could breathe again, gasping for air. But you didn’t want it to be over. Your eyes fluttered open, finding his dark gaze melting into you.

This time, you let yourself fall into him, ignoring the voice in the back of your head that said this was a fantasy. He caught you, one arm wrapping around your waist, his other hand coming to your jawline. He ascended that final step, pulling your body into his. His lips were plush, a little dry. Real. Minho was here, warm under your fingertips.

His hand slid up into your hair, slowly enough to make you shiver. You sighed into the kiss, goosebumps appearing on your arms as his fingers gently tugged the strands. And then his mouth opened beneath you, and you let yourself tumble into sensation, drowning in him.

You don’t know how long you kissed, but your heart was racing when you finally came up for air. Minho panted, little breaths puffing against your lips. He rested his forehead against yours, the weight somehow grounding you.

“Do you understand now?” Minho’s voice was hoarse, deeper than before. You shivered, just a bit, and the corner of his lips twitched up.

You couldn’t find words, unable to string any coherent thoughts together. And you didn’t really want to, happy to have your mind all to yourself, no doubts in sight. You leaned forward, placing a small kiss on the tip of Minho’s nose. He scrunched his face up, making you giggle. But you needed to know one thing. “Are we—are things different now?”

“We’re dating. Unless you don’t want that,” he backtracked, eyes wide.

You grinned at him. “I do.”

He heaved out a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. I thought I really fucked up there.”

Now you really laughed, head falling forward to rest on his chest. Minho’s arms tightened around you, pulling you closer than you thought was possible. You could hear his heartbeat, thudding just as fast as yours.

“You said the friendship was your favorite part of love,” Minho mused. You hummed in agreement, nodding against him. “Well I hope you don’t get sick of me. I hear I’m pretty annoying.”

“Minho,” you rolled your eyes.

“I know you just rolled your eyes at me,” he teased.

“Well, you are annoying. But I suppose it’s a part of your charm.”

He chuckled, “So that means you like my jokes?”

You smiled fondly, “Don’t push it.”

* * * * *

Masterlist

#skz fanfic #skz fluff #lee know fluff #lee know fanfic #lee know x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids fanfic #lee know #skz minho #skz lee know #skz imagines #skz scenarios #lee know scenarios #skz minho x reader #minho x reader #lee know fic #skz fic #skz one shot

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nadisabug · 3 years

Text

Take On Me

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson! reader

Warnings: terribly written, I apologize, cannon divergence (smol divergence), song fic?????

Summary: Y/n won’t believe that The Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington likes her.

A/N: aaahhhhh okay so I woke up at seven am and this song was playing and I had a fever dream idea for a fic so it’s terrible no beta we die like men

"Wanna go to the movies sometime?"

I was mid-bite in my ice cream when Steve "The Hair" Harrington popped the question. I slowly backed away from the ice cream and stared at him dumbfoundedly.

He was leaning on the register, his bicep prominent and flexed. He had lost the cap he usually wore, and even though he had probably been wearing it all day, his hair still looked good. He was flashing me a drop dead gorgeous smile and his eyes were almost sparkling.

Gods I was fucked.

This wasn't the first time he had asked me out by any means. He had been hinting at it every time we saw each other for the past half year. This was the first time he was so up front about it, though. Usually I could act stupid and brush it off.

I hid the heat creeping up on my cheeks by digging in my purse. I grabbed a wad of bills and slapped them on the counter.

"Sorry, I got to go pick up Dusty from AV club," I smiled tightly, lying through my clenched teeth. "Keep the change." And with that, I nearly ran from Scoops Ahoy ice cream. I left so quickly that i didn't see Dustin, my brother, popping out from behind the counter.

"Dude, sorry. You'll get her next time," Dusty sighed.

"Next time?" Steve scoffed. "Buddy, there will be no next time."

"Come on, she likes you I swear," Dusty pleaded.

"Sure didn't look like it," Robin piped in. She was sitting on the passway holding a white board that said 'Steve Sucks' with 17 check marks below it and 'Y/n said yes' with no check marks below it. "I think that one counted for two," she announced, adding two check marks to the 17.

"Shut up Robin," Dusty snapped. He turned back to Steve. "Please Steve you gotta believe me!"

"Okay, okay, fine Henderson," Steve sighed collapsing on the ice cream counter. "Then why does she keep blowing me off?"

Dusty smiled. "For that, we do some recon."

~~~~~~~

I was laying on my bed when I heard a knock on my door. I looked up from the book I was reading.

"Momma?" I called curiously.

"No! It's your favorite brother," Dusty announced, throwing open the door. I smiled and put my book on the night stand.

"Indeed it is. To what do I owe this pleasure," I sat up and patted the bed next to me.

Dusty graciously threw himself into the bed and smiled up at me. "A brother can't want to talk to his only sister who he loves?"

I raised an eyebrow at that. Dusty was always so bad at lying. "Spill, now," I ordered.

Dusty sighed and slumped down. He cursed under his breath - which I chose to ignore under the circumstances- and then looked up at me again.

"Steve told me he likes you. Like a lot."

At that confession, I hopped off the bed, turning away to hide my blush. I had just blown Steve off now here Dusty was telling me Steve likes me? Something was off.

"Since when did Steve trust you enough to tell you that kind of stuff?" I questioned, towering over Dusty who was still sitting on the bed.

"Well we've been hanging out." Dusty couldn't even maintain eye contact with me. He was hiding something.

"Where were you today after school?"

"AV clu-"

"Oh my gods you were at Scoops Ahoy." I slapped my hands over my face and turned around to hide my shame.

"No I wasn't!" Dusty tried to cover his tracks, but it was already too late.

"Dusty, there is no AV club today." The pieces clicked together in my mind. "Oh my gods Steve knows I lied to him."

"Yeah! Which really hurt him because he likes you!"

"No he doesn't Dusty!" I threw myself face first onto the bed and screamed.

"Yes he does! He's literally asked you out so many times."

I twisted, propping myself up on my elbow so that I could look at Dusty. "That does not mean he likes me."

"How so?" Dusty huffed and folded his arms.

"Because, Dusty, he's Steve 'The Hair' Harrington, he probably just wants to get back at Nancy for ditching him for Will's brother."

"What? No," Dusty scoffed.

"Yeah," I nodded. "She left him for The Freak so he's going to date The Psycho Bitch."

Dusty got a soft look of his face for a moment. "Is that what they call you?"

"Doesn't matter Dusty. What matters is that Steve doesn't actually like me. He just thinks he does because he's torn up about Nancy."

Dusty thought for a second. "What if he proved it to you?"

I looked at Dusty. "What do you mean?"

"What if he actually proved to you that he really did like you?"

I shrugged. "Then I'd date him and losing Dart won't come and bite us in the butt."

"Really sis you had to bring that up?"

"He ate Mews," I whisper yelled, careful in case Mom heard.

"About that, we finished translating the message, come on," he rolled off the bed, grabbing my arm and pulling me over in the process.

"Ow! No I can't!"

"Why not?"

"I can't see Steve after lying to him like that!"

"Oh just come on, he'll forgive you. He's madly in love with you."

I doubted that but I went with Dusty anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After everything we went through, we had a moment to pretend like everything was okay. The middle school dance.

I was upset that Dusty insisted that Steve take him to the dance and not me, but I knew they had something like a brother bond so I wan't too upset. I volunteered to be one of the high schooler chaperones, mainly under Joyce's wishes. She wanted at least someone there to watch Will like a hawk. Or two.

So Nancy and I were here. At the punch table.

"So, how's college going," Nancy piped up.

I had to be honest, I didn't really like her. Not with the way she broke Steve's heart. But I had to remain cordial. I guess.

"Good."

"I heard you got scholarships."

"It was the only way I could go."

"Yeah. With the.... deaths..." she said carefully, "at the Hawkins Post, they're hiring again. So Jonathan and I got our jobs back."

"That's great." I paused. "Not the deaths, the getting jobs back."

"Yeah."

We lapsed into silence after that.

I scanned the room to see that the boys had split off to dance. Some girl was dancing with Will, Mike was dancing with El, and Lucas was with Max.

Dusty wasn't with them though.

I looked around the room to see him sitting on the bleachers holding back tears. My heart lurched at the sight.

"I'm going to go dance with him," Nancy announced. I was about to let her when I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I grabbed Nancy's arm.

"Wait," I ordered. I saw a girl with visible braces wearing a baby blue dress approach Dusty. He immediately perked up and held out his hand for her. She took it and they walked to the dance floor.

"Nice call," Nancy smiled.

I just dropped her arm, nodded, and turned away to watch them.

After a couple of hours, the kids started leaving one by one. Around the time we were at half capacity, Dusty came up to me.

"May I have this dance?" He awkwardly bowed with his hand outstretched. I had to stifle a giggle.

I looked at Nancy. She waved me off. "Go ahead, I can serve punch."

"Of course, mi' Lord," I giggled and took his hand.

He dragged me all the way to the middle of the dance floor and began to dance with me.

"Sure Suzie won't be jealous about baby blue dancing with you?"

"She knows I only have eyes for her," Dusty rolled his eyes at the notion that she could possibly be jealous.

"Turn around," I began in a sing songy voice. "Look at what you see!"

"Oh shut up," Dusty growled and shoved me.

I laughed but kept dancing with him.

At that moment the song changed, and Dusty smiled. My back was to the stage so I couldn't see what was going on, but I assumed it was just the band preparing.

As soon as I heard the signature synth, I squealed.

"I love this song, Dusty did you request it?"

"Sorta," he grinned.

Then I heard his voice.

"Ba ba-ba ba. We're talking away, I don't know what I'm to say, I'll say it anyway. Today's another day to find you shying away."

I dropped Dusty's shoudlers and turned around. When I did I saw Steve "The Hair" Harrington on the stage, mic in hand, singing.

Then he pointed straight at me.

"I'll be coming for your love, okay?"

"No fucking way," I whispered.

"Hell fucking yeah, get it Harrington!" Dusty cheered behind me.

"Take on me, take me on, I'll be gone in a day or two," he sang, the last word high and pitchy. It was so bad. So awfully terrible. He was making a complete fool of himself.

But I couldn't tear my eyes away.

"So needless to say, of odds and ends, but I'll be stumbling away slowly learning that life is okay. Say after me, it's no better to be safe than sorry."

It was only then that I noticed that the middle schoolers around me had parted to make a huge circle, with me at the center.

"Take on me, take me on, I'll be gone in a day or two," Steve sang even worse than the first time. Then he tossed the mic into the crowd and jumped off the stage. Then he began to dance, horribly. He did the running man, switching to the sprinkler, which then phased into a Charleston. It was so horrible but I couldn't help but smile. After the dance break, he turned to the crowd with his hand out. Miraculously, someone handed him the microphone.

"Oh, the things that you say, yeah is it life or just to play my worries way? You're all the things I've got to remember," he sang and walked towards me. I tried to take a couple steps back, but someone - most likely my beloved Dusty - shoved me forward. Hard. I stumbled and fell into Steve, who caught me.

"You're shying away, I'll be coming for you anyway." Steve clicked the microphone off and held it out to the crowd. Someone took it quickly and he brought his other arm around me. I would like to say that I tried to stand up away from him, but I didn't. I just let Steve hold me.

"Take on me..." Steve sang to me and only me. With each word he pulled my arms up and wrapped them around his neck. He then began to sway softly with the music, dancing with me. We danced as the crowd around us reformed, the middle schoolers going back to dancing. It was almost like nothing happened.

But to me everything thing did.

"Are you su-"

"Yes," he whispered.

I smiled.

"Wanna go to the movies sometime?"

Sorry not sorry Dusty deserved some one to dance with I don’t make the rules

Taglist is open! Just shoot me an ask, dm, or comment!

#i am so sorry this is so bad #sorry this is a crack fic #please forgive me for i am thirsty #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stanger things x reader #stranger things

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instasiswetrust · 3 years

Text

Steve's not quite drunk but there's a pleasant buzz under his skin that leaves him feeling pliant and loose, enough to keep any unsavory thoughts at bay for the time being.

The scent of chlorine and bleach that envelops him once he opens the pool doors, familiar comforts by now, help clear some of the haze of alcohol that has befallen him from his last drink taken at the Auris that night. Or morning. He's not entirely sure.

It brings back the memories that he had been trying so hard to forget. A lavender envelope had been in his mail that day, inside of it an invitation trimmed with delicate filigree. For Nancy's and Jonathan's wedding.

A fall wedding.

The type which he and Nancy had joked about back when they were together, not long before Jonathan had joined them.

He had gone through his work with the kind of detachment that usually meant nothing was truly registering. Adam might have noticed at one point, too attuned already to the tells under the porcelain of Steve's mask, but the memory is fuzzy and he can't remember if he ever gave a proper answer to his manager's concerned query.

As soon as work was done, he had made his way to the Auris in search of something to get his mind off the pain that clutched the shards of his heart like a vice. Or rather, someone. It had been his favorite dancer's day off or something though, leaving him to spend the rest of his night watching the dancers on stage and sipping on the ocassional drink.

Something had made him want to climb the stairs to the gym's pool, though. And that's why he was here now.

"Are you drunk?" The voice that speaks has become familiar in the same way the scent and sounds of the pool has and when he looks up to meet the eyes of its owner, he finds them startled if slightly amused.

"Only a little bit." He shrugs, plopping down by the edge of the pool with his legs crossed under him. The bleach might leave stains on his Levi's but he can't really muster enough energy to give a fuck right now. "'s not that bad."

"You kind of reek of cigarette smoke and whiskey."

Yep. Definitely amused.

"Spilled some scotch on my shirt. The smoke is probably from the cab driver." Another shrug but this time he levels Billy with apologetic doe eyes. "I can leave if it bothers you."

"You're fine, I was just curious." The blonde swims closer, crossing his arms over the edge next to where Steve sits once he's close enough. "First time I've seen you up here wearing something other than your ridiculous pajamas."

"They are not ridiculous!" Steve protests at once, pouting. "And you have seen me in swimwear too!"

"Last week you were wearing bright red shorts that said Bite Me across the ass, and a t-shirt that said Friends don't lie in big bold letters with a heart-shaped waffle at the center." Billy deadpans, raising a single eyebrow. "The shirt was at least two sizes too big for you."

"They were gifts." Brown eyes narrow into a glare but the petulant pout kind of offsets the vibe.

"I thought models were supposed to have taste in clothes."

"We're supposed to look pretty while others dress us. It's not in the job description to have taste."

"So you admit you have no taste then." Billy was giving him that smirk, the one Steve called insufferable but discretly considered hot as fuck. How dare he be so sinfully handsome.

"I said no such thing!" Steve crosses his arms over his chest, tipping his chin up in the perfect picture of snotty petulance. He could already feel the laughs bubbling in his chest, wanting to break the mock facade.

It takes only a second or two of Billy giving him an skeptical look before they are both laughing.

He had missed this kind of easy-going banter. Most of his friends he only saw around the holidays, and the environment at work was more prone to talks about weight loss and botox than anything else.

New York never slept but that only made it all the more lonely.

His sullen mood must've reflected on his face because he feels something poke at his thigh, meeting Billy's eyes when he turns to look at him.

"You didn't just come here so I could make fun of your taste in clothes, did you?"

"I-"

It's only then that Steve realizes Billy is right.

The reason his alcohol fogged brain has preferred to come up here rather than crash into his bed wasn't just some way of punishing himself even further. Not entirely at least. He had come here because it was a place of comfort for him.

And because he had a friend here, too.

"No. Not just that." Steve sighs, letting his eyes focus on the slow movement of the pool water instead of Billy's face.

"Do you..." A moment of hesitation, as if he's not sure about his words. "want to talk about it?"

Brown eyes close, keeping his focus on the in and out of air through his lungs for a few moments until he feels less like he's going to burst out crying the moment he sets these awful thoughts into words.

Makes them all the more real.

"My... exes. They are getting married. To each other." He doesn't open his eyes, doesn't do anything more than try to keep his voice steady even as the aching pain of heartbreak weighs down on his chest. "I received the invitation this morning."

There's a low whistle. It sounds like sympathy. It sounds real.

"That bites," Billy says, and his voice has a dulled edge to it. Commiseration with flavor, or something like that, but it's three am and there's nothing but cold tile and the soft wake of lit water. "Is this ... like a sudden spur of the moment thing?"

When Steve turns doe eyes to him, Billy raises up his hands, only moderately pruned, in an easing gesture.

"You don't have to answer. Just..." A pause. A beat as the swimmer looks for the right string of words. "Just trying to gauge how much of a dick move this is."

There's a laugh, dull and mirthless. A sad little sound.

“We have been friends since high school. All three of us dated for a bit longer after that. We went through some hard stuff together back in Indiana.” He shrugs, keeping his eyes closed. Tears at bay. “Was supposed to be the kind of friendship that lasted even after we broke up.”

It’s all my fault. He doesn't say.

My stupid heart and I. We ruined it all.

It takes a split second of contemplation, because, after all, they're total strangers. But once upon a time, someone gave Billy this sideways kindness and it helped. Maybe Steve and his overly fancy hair won't mind it too much.

So Billy acts on the impulse.

It's a tiny splash. Really very minuscule. Aimed and precise for the minimum impact upon the sitting duck target. But water is water. Nobody can tell tears from pool water.

"You were thinking too hard." He places the excuse on the table, sinking lower into the water, comfortable in this strange company. Even if the guy seems to be at the end of his rope. There's something about him. Like a dream you don't want to forget. "I could see the smoke. Had to cool you down."

The water is warm and yet is still enough of a shock to force Steve's eyes to open.

His first instinct is to protest, say something about the action being rude and uncalled for. Stand up and leave, most likely.

But what he sees in Billy's face — hears in his voice — is enough to give him a moment's pause. To truly appreciate the action for the small kindness it is.

This time when the tears dribble down his cheeks in quiet drops, he has something to hide them behind.

“You really think you're funny, huh?”

And if his voice is a little too wet to be considered normal, they don't have to talk about it.

"I'm hilarious," Billy says as he sinks a little lower into the water, mostly to hide his smug grin, but in part to hide away. "The girl gang that lets me tag along sometimes says so."

“Of course you are.” Steve rolls his eyes, using his fingers to brush back his mostly dry hair. He should probably wash the chlorine out of his hair before going to bed or it would be stiff come morning.

“Is that why you're trying to become a prune? For maximum fun effect?”

“Nah,” Billy waves off the prune comment. He’s hardly started his routine. Pool time ain’t over until everything has that post-workout burn and his stomach begs for food. Makes time easier to keep that way. “I just like to swim.”

Just like Tony Hawk likes to skateboard, he supposes, but understating his profession like this is one of the best parts of the job. Gotta get your kicks when you find them.

“Why? Got something against prunes?” He laughs, “They just want to help you. Healthy stomach, and all.”

“Not particularly, but they do remind me of my Nonna. She likes her prunes.” Another shrug, this time easier. Easy banter is much better than worrying about that little envelope sitting on his coffee table.

The tears have stopped too, the contacts itching slightly against his eyes. Probably from the mix of salt and chlorine. Thankfully, his cardigan is mostly dry and he takes it off to use it as a makeshift towel.

“Is that why you're always here at weird hours? You some sort of pool cryptid or something?”

“That’s only step one of my master plan.”

Billy likes the sound of pool cryptid. Sounds a lot more mysterious and fun than what he’s actually doing, which is training until he drops so the nightmares won’t kick up.

A snort, loud and sudden leaves Steve at that, straining a little in his throat. Mom would say it's undignified. Dad would say it's ugly. He doesn't particularly care either way.

“And pray tell, what would step two entail? Flooding the city?”

Cute laugh, Billy thinks briefly surprised. Much better than seeing the guy choke back tears. Let's see if he can't instigate a bit more of that amusement. It's bound to taste better than the misery the brunette wanted to wallow in.

"What kind of water-based supervillain do you take me for?" Billy, mock-miffed, places a hand over his heart and huffs. "That's so silver-age comics. And you're not even my henchman. Why should I tell you anything about my master plan?"

A finger taps at his chin, seemingly thinking hard about his answer. Steve's not particularly well versed in comics but Dustin’s done his best to keep him on the smallest of loops.

He no longer mixes Superman with Captain America, at least.

“Fair point. You don't have the looks to pass off as Aquaman.” Steve purses his lips, offering his best apologetic doe-eyed look. Although he's definitely bluffing because if there's anybody out there who could give Aquaman a run for his money it would be Billy. “And who says I couldn't be your henchman?”

"Did you fill out the paperwork?"

Everyone knows bureaucracy is the lungs of evil. Or something like that. Sue him, he was never great with metaphors on the fly.

“Honey, if I wanted to fill paperwork I wouldn't have taken modeling as a career.”

It's an exaggeration for the most part. Steve's too used to poking fun about himself these days that it doesn't sting as bad as it used. Not too much.

Billy cocks his head and lets the loaded sentence drop and drift away.

"Then guess you can't be a henchman."

“I can make killer margaritas, though.”

“I don’t really drink too much.” The nightmares get worse when he’s anything but sober. It’s better to be exhausted. It’s the easiest way. “Medication reasons.”

A little white lie that’s hardly a lie, he really shouldn’t drink with his ADHD meds, but who ever listens to that rule? Nah. Only when it suits him.

“Model thing explains your hair though. Glad we solved that mystery.”

“Fair.” Steve offers a smile, crooked and a little pinched at the edges but a smile nonetheless. “I’m not supposed to either. Nutritionist's orders.”

To be fair, he's not supposed to be drinking at all. Smoking too. It's a little hard not to indulge every once in a while, though.

The model comment surprises him. There's a billboard with his face just a few blocks down from this apartment complex. He can see it from his room. How has this guy not recognized him?

It's surprisingly refreshing.

“Hm? Oh no, the model thing has nothing to do with my hair. That's just personal taste.”

Now that Billy cares to look, Steve’s face is achingly familiar. Oh, the trials and tribulations of having attention issues. At least there’s a better reason for the weird familiarity than must just have one of those faces.

“Can’t relate.” He’s not particularly attached to any bodily feature of his. It’s a side effect, he’s told. Reassured. It's just a consequence, and nothing more. “Doing things with hair? Nah. Sounds too complicated.”

“Sounds like the kind of thing a pool cryptid would say.” There’s a story behind Billy's words. Something missing, hidden skin deep. Steve hopes the light jab helps diffuse that somewhat.

“What are you, a cop?” Billy smirks, and because he is the pinnacle of maturity, he dips under the water with an obnoxious splash.

“Asshole” Steve hisses, droplets dribbling down his bangs and into the cardigan bunched up in his lap.

With a sigh, he forces himself to get up. Might as well take that shower now.

Billy surfaces, still grinning, because even if the guy looks pissed at him, that means he’s not stewing in the past with his soon-to-be-married exes and the Hercules-class weight of baggage that relationship caused.

“Guys by the pool get splashed. No matter what time it is or how cute they are. Cryptid rules.” His smirk it's wide, tip of his tongue between his teeth. "If you weren’t prepared to get wet, then why’d you come?”

Steve shrugs, doing his best to ignore that peek of a pink tongue. “The local cryptid makes for good conversation.”

“So you’ve been watching me?” Billy makes a little show of floating back, caught in thought. “I don’t know how I feel about spectators.”

“I can stop.” Painfully honest. If Billy really wants him to, Steve would stop. He would prefer not to, though.

“Nah. I’m only pulling your leg.” Billy returns to the pool’s edge. Rests his cheek on the edge, looking up at pretty boy model Steve.

“Things get too quiet sometimes.”

Steve hums softly in agreement, feeling relief ease itself back into his bones. He would have stopped, yes, but he wouldn't have particularly liked the prospect of it.

“You come here every day? Or have I just happened to stumble in on the days you're around?”

"Almost every day. Sometimes I take this side-show to other pools." Billy cracks his best Han Solo roguish smile, levies it against Steve's still too flat smile. "Gotta keep the government guessing sometimes, you know."

“Of course, wouldn't want to get caught and all that.” A yawn gets past Steve's lips, startling him. He hadn't registered how tired he was. “I’ll keep that in mind, for next time.”

“Thank you.” Quieter. Softer. Barely above a whisper but loud enough in the gentle silence of the pool.

It comes just as soft. It's almost tender, really, as the word casts across the water and tile and the near-lonely pool.

"Anytime."

---

The next time Steve visits, it's once again 3 AM but he makes the mistake (is it really a mistake?) to bring a tin of sugar cookies with him.

"Oh shit, are you sharing, or is this all to tease me?"

Steve is sitting by one of the benches, already halfway through a cookie. “Come out here and find out.”

Billy narrows his eyes, lips pulled into a thin frown.

"Fool me once." He waggles a single warning finger and doesn't even really bother to dry off as he drags himself out of the pool to plop down on the floor next to Steve and steal into the snacks.

There are enough cookies for both of them stuffed neatly in a tin container. It's awfully pretentious according to Dustin, but then again Steve's Nonna always said cookies tasted better stored that way.

“I'm not mean enough to just eat while you watch. Yet, at least.”

"Oh just wait until you know me better." Billy chirps, shoving two into his mouth, wholesale and choking a bit.

"Robin and Carol would do that in a heartbeat."

“They probably would have a good reason too.” Steve teases, watching with amused eyes as Billy almost chokes. They are just sugar cookies he managed to scrounge up with whatever was in his kitchen. Nothing that good.

“Easy there tiger, cookies ain't going anywhere.”

"You have no idea how hungry I always am."

Steve blinks, surprised. The words come out before he has a chance to truly think them over. “I’m a good cook.”

"Prove it." It's out of Billy's mouth before he can take it back, but on second thought, he doesn't really want to. Steve's good company, or at least he has been so far.

And he hasn't had a nightmare since.

Good omens.

“You're kind of choking on the proof right now.” Maybe it comes out a little lighter, a little too surprised.

That's fine. Whatever this thing is, it doesn't seem like too bad of a chance to take.

“But if you need some more convincing, I can offer dinner too.”

Wheezing, but recovering, Billy grins up at Steve but there's a hopeful spark in his blue eyes that wasn't there before. "Fuck yeah, gotta make sure it's not a fluke."

Steve offers him the thermos of coffee he had brought with him, suddenly too distracted by watching Billy drink to remember what he wanted to ask. “Uh... When are you free?”

"This Sunday, I think. Getting back from a rapids trip that I shouldn't keep doing but like fuck am I gonna listen to other people for something dumb like my health."

“Is it like, you could die type of thing or just one of those things doctors say we should stop doing and everyone ignores? Because dead people don't particularly eat.”

"I do dumb shit because regular training gets boring and people who actually like me have to put up with it." Billy waves a dismissive hand. "But that's what it takes to get me moving on schedule so. Yeah."

It drives his coach insane because doing his reps in real rivers with real currents isn't exactly... well. It's not what everyone else does for training and given that he has passed out mid-stroke before, he can't even say the risk is just the current. But he knows that upstate rivers like the back of his hand.

Yeah, life would be way easier if he didn't have ADHD, less doctor's notes for the cause of amphs in his piss, but it would also be super boring and he'd be even more traumatized, probably. And that would suck.

Steve thinks of Indiana, and a bat full of nails. Of cliff diving at the quarry, drunk on stolen bourbon and tasting cheap cigarettes. Of the Auris with his slew of dancers most of who he's shared a bed with more than once.

He thinks he has some experience with the whole doing dumb shit just to get his schedule moving.

"I will take your word for it then." Hums, thinking back to his schedule and what he has paged in for Sunday. There was that casting thing Adam wanted him to do but it was morning. "I should be free on Sunday. Any allergies I should account for?"

“None that I know of.” Spoken cheerfully

“Great. Gives me more to work with.” And this time when he smiles, it's the most honest he's offered since they met.

---

When he finds it again, it is entirely on accident.

Adam had scheduled a trip to California for a gig, something about a new summer line of wetsuits and surfboards this company wanted him to advertise. It was a big opportunity and it was good cash too, of course so Steve wasn't going to question why they thought it a good idea to present a summer line in the middle of august. But as usual, he had forgotten to pack his suitcases until the night before, and now he was left to scramble around his apartment searching for his stuff.

So when he finds the lavender envelope buried under a few recipe books and a hoodie, still unopened, he doesn't think much about it and opens it. It's only when he's staring at the date stenciled in black calligraphy under Nancy's and Jonathan's name that he realizes what he's looking at.

Oh right. Those two were getting married.

The familiar ache in his chest is still there, but it's muted enough that he's surprised. Between canceling his exclusive membership at the Auris, and his relationship with Billy coming out to the media, he had sort of forgotten all about the wedding.

Maybe...

Grabbing his phone from the bed, he shoots his boyfriend a quick text.

How do you feel about being my plus one to my exes' wedding?

#WIPs #stranger things #model au #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove

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fenweak · 4 years

Photo

As requested! This rec list features Kazer Kid Fics -- Jonny and Patrick both with kids and babies AND as kids and babies, with a small dash of de-aging and a spoonful of mpreg.

⭐ for my personal faves

My Other Rec Lists 🍭 Rec me a fic? 🍭

The Ones Where They Have Kids

No Capes by sorrylatenew ⭐ - j/p as parents; implied mpreg

Husbands. Dads. Retired superheroes.

The Reeducation of Misters Kane and Toews + timestamp by jezziejay - single dad Patrick, teacher Jonny ⭐

In which Kaner sort of has a kid, and Mr. Toews doesn't know which of them is the bigger brat.

AU featuring teacher!Jon and hockey-player!Kaner. With bonus 'Hawks characters, love notes, pasta jewelry, Be Better Pizzas, pirouettes, a sprinke of angst and guest appearance by Derek Jeter.

trust your intuition (it's just like goin' fishin') by poeelektra - 1988 as parents

They’re on the periphery of the Home Wares section of Target, heading with purposeful stride toward Sporting Goods, when Gabe declares that he wants a doll for his “Been Good” toy.

Every Little Thing He Does (is magic) by jezziejay - single dad Patrick

Jonny Toews is a bewitching man who moves into a mysterious mansion in a small town. Soon, he opens Bell, Book & Candle, a curiosity shop full of candles, lotions, etc., and is enthralling the children of local police chief (Patrick Kane), who believe he is a witch (but not a bad one.) But not everyone in town is appreciative of their quirky new neighbor, and it may take a little bit of magic for him to truly become part of the community.

Under Cover by heartstrings - 1988 as parents

"Just get in the fucking blanket fort, Kaner."

Feels Like Family To Me + prequels by exmanhater - 1988 as parents

Jonathan Toews and Patrick Kane plan, create, and obtain their family.

living next door to alice series by cinderlily - 1988 as parents

"It started with a phone call."Patrick and Jonny are suddenly given the opportunity to be parents. This is how they stumble through it.

some say love is a burning thing podfic by exmanhater - 1988 as parents

If anyone had told Johnny upon entering the NHL that thirteen years later he'd not only have a kid with Patrick Kane, but would be getting ready to go on a 'date night,’ he'd have said they must be smoking some pretty good shit.And then he'd have to wait a decade to eat his words.

In the Middle of the Night - 1988 as parents

Gone are the days when it took a cold, wet washcloth on his face to wake him up. Or: Five times Pat and Jonny's daughter wakes them up, plus one time they wake her up.

so show me family - single dad Patrick

Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family. Whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need one. ~Jane Howard

Fill It Up With Love by Frosting50 - single dad Pat; implied mpreg

So Pat’s senior year doesn’t turn out exactly like he’d planned. He still gets his degree in accounting, but he also gets a little girl named Emma. She’s all fat pink cheeks, curly brown hair, and blue eyes. She might have Ryan’s chin, but she’s all Pat’s. And the first time she falls asleep on his chest, chubby hand curled around his thumb, skin so soft and sweet he damn-near feels bowled over with how much he loves her. He didn’t know he could love anyone so much; it makes his heart feel too big for his chest, and he knows that he’ll spend the rest of his life trying to give her the world.

peas & carrots by altri_uccelli - 1988 as parents

Unapologetic Halloween fluff, or: Jonny forgets what day it is, but Kaner's on it.

Can You Lyft Me Up? by Mullsandmutts - single dad Patrick

Even high profile athletes like Chicago Blackhawks Captain Jonathan Toews are forced to utilize paid transportation from time to time. An accidental "share my ride" selection on an app results in a life-altering ride with an mouthy Russian driver (Artemi), an unfairly attractive single father (Patrick Kane) and his adorable sassy (and color-matching-challenged) preschool daughter (introducing Molly Donna Patricia Amelia Kane aka Mo). Jonathan refuses to feel too sketch when he negotiates a plan with the driver to "accidentally" have more shared rides with his new friends. When Mo has a traumatic incident at day camp, Patrick's heart is broken and Jonny enlists the help of Temi and the ever-meddling Patrick Sharp to get smiles back on both Kane faces. Jonathan finds himself more and more drawn to Patrick but Patrick's fears of being a good enough parent for Mo and meeting all of her needs could keep them apart. Will Temi, the Sharp family and a trio of nosy aunts in Buffalo be enough to help Jonathan and Patrick realize what they could have together or will Patrick's stubbornness and Jonathan's fear of ruining their friendship keep them apart? Stay tuned to find out ....

Three by Linsky - i won’t spoil it

Patrick doesn’t think he’s a pervert. But how would he know? Maybe a pervert is just a thing you are, and it doesn’t feel any different from being a normal person, until you do something perverted. Maybe that’s him.After all, he does have two names on his wrist.

All Your Memories by toewsandconfused - 1988 as parents; amnesiafic

Pat went to sleep a bachelor in the Trump Towers and woke up next to Jonny in the suburbs with three kids calling him Daddy. Struggling to figure out his new reality Patrick had ruled out dream, was banking on delusion because even though it meant he was losing his mind, it seemed safer than some kind of late-onset amnesia. He didn’t want to face that idea that this really was his life; that Jonny was his, that those beautiful kids were his, and he couldn’t remember any of it. The idea that the memories of their life together could be lost forever was too terrifying to deal with. Losing his mind was preferable to losing his memories.

Chelsea, Chelsea I Believe by empathapathique - single dad Pat ⭐

Patrick meets a girl his rookie year.

Don't Let Go by aohatsu - 1988 as adoptive parents

“So you were already with the boy you saved when the fire started?”Patrick pauses, but shakes his head. “No, there was an explosion—I don’t really know what it was, but then it was just me and Tigre, and it’s like, in a situation like that, you don’t really think? You just do. So I grabbed the kid and went through the fire escape. It’s not like I decided I wanted to save anybody, it was just the only option.”

Always Be My Baby by juliusschmidt - single dad Patrick

The thing is, you don’t just grow up once.

as careless as you are certain - single dad Patrick

March through August, 2015.

the one with the baby yentas series by forochel

Tazer has a son and Kaner is his son's kindergarten teacher.

It's the Magic of Risking Everything by conformityissuicide - single dad Jonny

When Jonny is thirteen he meets a small kid from Buffalo at a hockey tournament.

Then he has a gay crisis, a baby girl, and gets drafted 3rd overall by an Original Six franchise.

When he meets Patrick Kane again at prospect camp he doesn’t feel anything but excitement.

And then it all goes to hell.

"of gifts and fireflies" by huntersandangels - single dad Jon

Patrick Kane hasn’t lived a charmed life despite money flowing through his veins. The journey he is currently on, though paved with good intentions, proves to be a harder challenge than he could ever be ready for. The people he meets along the way give him a much more valued gift than his grandfather could ever dream of giving him.

I'm gonna love you til my lungs give out by arenadomatthews - 1988 as parents

“Papa, Dad, you guys are retiring today?” Bryan asks, looking up at his parents.“Yeah buddy, we are. Are you gonna behave while Dad and I are doing our press conference?” Patrick asks.

“Duh, Dad. I'm not a baby anymore,” he scoffs.

“He's right, Pat. He's our big boy now,” Jonny adds.

“Yeah, I'm going into 4th grade,” Bryan boasts pridefully.Patrick and Jonathan are finally announcing their retirement after 20 NHL seasons. However, their retirement ceremony will come with a twist: they'll be publicly coming out and revealing their family

Your Daddy's Aim Is True by thefourthvine; podfic by isweedan - cup wish baby! ⭐

patch it up by gasmsinc - 1988 as parents

Jonny stares at his daughter for a long moment. She stares back, eyes unwavering. She has Kaner’s baby blues, but at five she’s already mastered Jonny’s dead on the inside stare. Her kindergarten teacher claims she uses the unwavering look to bully other students into doing what she wants, and it’s something they should work on at home, but Jonny’s baby is a natural born leader, and he’s not going to get in her way of becoming the president, or, better yet, the supreme ruler of the universe.

Your patch,” says Jonny.

Baby, It's Hot Outside by toewsyourheart - single dad Pat

Jonny goes for a popsicle and gets a little bit more than he bargained for.

Take All That's Left - divorced single dad Pat

It’s been 6 years now, and he’s grown to enjoy the city since signing with the Rangers to follow Anna, who’d found a job in Brooklyn.

But Chicago; Chicago was Patrick’s first love, all his important firsts – it’s all been hers, and having to leave had been heartbreaking. Too many memories from Chicago were heartbreaking, and yet he always yearned for the city, always felt more comfortable walking her streets than any other place in the world. No other place quite felt like home the way Chicago did.

Isn’t She Lovely by windsthatwhisper + podfic by kanetcews (lavenderharry) - wish baby!

It's nine in the morning when Pat and Jonny stumble down the stairs, sluggish with sleep.

There’s a baby carrier on the kitchen island.

Jonny blinks, blinks again, then turns to get a cup of coffee.

Recreation, Entertainment, Art, or Sport by trademarkgiggle

of course jonathan toews can juggle

so show me family series by peeks, tazer - teacher Pat

“Just admit you like him.”

“Shut up, Sharpy,” Patrick says, before he rolls his eyes and tries to ignore the smirk widening on Sharpy’s lips. “Don’t you have your kids’ parents to bother?”

“No, my last kid left a couple minutes ago, so I’m totally here to watch you and Jonathan Toews make heart eyes at each other,” Sharpy laughs, waltzing into Patrick’s classroom. He immediately makes his way to see Sadie, who greets her dad with a hug.

(In which Patrick Kane is terrible at feelings but luckily, Patrick Sharp is a total bro.)

The Ones Where They’re With Kids

In My Blood and In My Bones + Nothing Sweet or Gentle by fourfreedoms ⭐

Patrick’s not really into dudes—he’s done that whole thing a couple of times—that’s rock-n-roll after all, but god, when Jonathan smiles, he looks really good.Johnny is a nanny. Patrick's a musician. They fall in love. Inspired by the movie What Maisie Knew.

the kids are alright

Patrick works at the sporting goods store Jonny takes his peewee team to for equipment.

given to us as free-flying souls by Mayhem10

Jonathan had never really considered himself particularly good with kids. He didn’t avoid them or anything and it’s not like they burst into tears when they saw his face, but he never was exactly sure what to do with them, these little people running around at waist height. It just wasn’t his area.So, of course, Patrick was basically the child whisperer.

(or five times Jonathan saw Patrick with kids and one time Patrick saw him)

Hide Your Face So The World Will Never Find You (Paper Faces On Parade) by huntersandangels

Jonathan Toews, farm owner and guardian of his nephew, is in desperate need of capable farm hands. Patrick Kane certainly does not fit the description but when a mutual friend confides in him that Patrick has lost everything he owned and is in serious need himself and offers Jonathan money to hire him, how can he say no?

Patrick Kane loves statistics and spending his money on thoroughly planned ‘adventures’ for his friends when he’s not partying away the rest of his fortune. If he wins the bet he can continue to plot freely but if he loses his extra curriculum activities have to stop. He agrees to go on an ‘adventure’ himself and settles in the Toews Farm posing as a farm hand. But as the time goes by, the less pretend it feels-and the more he enjoys Jonathan and Etienne’s company and the quite life in the farm; to the point where he’s not sure whether he wants to win the bet or lose...

Baby, You're the One by jezziejay ⭐

6k words of Jonathan Toews having feelings about babies. And feelings about Kaner. And feelings about putting a baby in Kaner.

The Ones Where They Are Kids

The Cat and the Fiddle series by james - childhood soulmates!

When Donna's son is four, he creates an imaginary friend.

i want to know what you know by sointimate - childhood sweethearts

Patrick is six years old and he's about to do the scariest thing he's ever done in his whole life.

Colorblind by july_v ⭐

Jon is five when he meets Patrick. It's also the time he begins to understand colors as more than an abstract concept.

How to become a man series+ coda by liketheroad, mockturtletale

In which Kaner gets spontaneously de-aged into a six-year-old, and he and Tazer both have a lot of growing up to do.

Romper Room by james - de-aged 1988

Sharpie doesn't really think this should be part of his duty as alternate captain. Luckily, none of this is his fault. A.K.A., the one where Kaner and Johnny are five.

you ruined everything in the best way by thisissirius + podfic by exmanhater .⭐ - de-aged Saader

Kaner's looking down at the kid, though, frowning. He crouches down. "Hey, kid, where are your parents?

"The kid's bottom lip juts out and starts wobbling. Fuck, that means he's going to start crying, right?

"Oh shi—oot, kid, don't cry," Kaner says. "I mean, if you don't know where they are, we can find 'em?"

"Kaner," Sharpy presses. "That's Saad."

don't worry about your body - de-aged Jonny

No one said anything. Everyone stared at each other then down at the tiny human being that was standing where Jonny had been. Kaner felt his mouth go entirely dry, and his stomach drop out from underneath him.

What the fuck, man.

Can You Picture It? by RemyJane

In which Kaner turns into a baby and everyone besides Jonny seems to understand. Includes excessive cuddling, ridiculously adorable baby-Kaner, and feelings. Jonny eventually figures everything out.

Never Getting That Shirt Back by ice_hot_13 - de-aged Pat

Patrick is de-aged into a toddler, and when he's with Jonny, he isn't a holy terror.

Je T'aime by banks99 (Nodiggity15) - de-aged Jonny

“He won’t take a bath. He’s arguing with me. It’s like he didn’t even change at all.” Kaner’s not pouting, fuck you very much.

MPREG

I Got a Love (That Keeps Me Waiting) by svmadelyn ⭐ -mpreg!pat

There's a lot of different ways this summary could go, like:Patrick Kane gets more than a gold medal in Sochi.

Or, the classic: It's too late to pull out now.Or: Patrick Kane continues to thrive in high pressure situations.Or: Patrick Kane gets knocked up, goes to White Castle, and finds love, not necessarily in that order.

But, ultimately, all that really matters is this: Patrick Kane is keeping his baby.

private passions and secret storms (all the secrets series) by CoffeeKristin, Frosting50 - mpreg!pat

Jonny’s life is good - great even. He loves Patrick and their kids, and even if they don’t always have time for each other, he wouldn’t trade it for anything. But when Jeff Carter comes into his life, Jonny’s world gets turned upside down. It’s going to take everything he’s got to convince Patrick to give him a second - maybe even a third - chance.

Patrick’s blindsided by Jonny’s betrayal and putting his family back together is a lot harder than he expected when their past comes back to haunt them.Can love conquer all?

Forever & Always, My Baby You'll Be by windsthatwhisper - mpreg!jonny

Jonny and Pat's life is a cycle of curse words, late night feedings, and five minute handjobs in the hallway closet.

Aka, I wanted some 1988 w/ a baby feels so I wrote this blurb of a thing in about seven minutes.

efficacy by thirteentorafters - mpreg!patrick

“You,” Patrick says, jabbing a finger angrily at Jonny. “Are gonna fucking help me, dickface.”

Opening his mouth to ask what the hell is going on; Jonny’s eyes drop to Patrick’s stomach. Jonny is acquainted with Patrick’s naked body and the last time they met, Patrick wasn’t fat. Or paunchy. Except that doesn’t look like usual fat. “Oh fuck.”

“Yeah, ‘oh fuck’,” Patrick says, imitating Jonny’s tone. “You knocked me up, asshole. What are you gonna do about it?”

Forever & Always, My Baby You'll Be by windsthatwhisper - mpreg!jonny

Jonny and Pat's life is a cycle of curse words, late night feedings, and five minute handjobs in the hallway closet.

Looked So Fine (I Just Had To Speak) by svmadelyn - !!!! ⭐

Patrick Kane’s talking penis maintains a ‘to do’ list. It is as follows:1. Jonathan Toews

Phone Tag by hawkeytime (jayyloo) - mpreg!Jonny

"Hi mom. Sorry I couldn’t catch you, so I guess I’ll just, uh.. leave a message. See, the thing is… my super-potent sperm may or may not have managed to knock Jonny up. Okay bye."

"Yes, hello, is this Hockey Canada? I just want it written on the record, today, June 31, 2015, that my incredibly improbable unborn child with Jonathan Toews will be playing for America. Yes, I’ll hold.

"Or: Pat accidentally knocks Jonny up. A saga told in a series of voicemails

A Royal Baby - mpreg!Pat

A cough from the doorway cuts Seabs off mid sentence. Duncs is standing watching them, a particularly somber expression on his face. "Jonny, I'm sorry to interrupt but you have a visitor that you'll want to go see right away.""Now really isn't a good time," Jonny tells him, not even putting down his fork."Trust me Your Highness," Duncs says, "This will be worth it."

[Patrick and Jonathan think their time brief time together at the Olympics is all they can ever have. Patrick's ensuing pregnancy proves otherwise.]

sun sweet berries of the earth series by gasmsinc - mpreg!Pat; a/b/o

There is a spirit living in Patrick State Park.“Listen,” says Jonny. “I didn’t mean to step on your crown.”The spirit’s bottom lip wobbles.

Tame the Roads That Can't Be Tamed by Linsky - mpreg!Pat; a/b/o

Patrick’s flown a million times. He’s never gotten airsick before. Even on last year’s epic flight to Denver, when they hit massive turbulence and half the team was groaning over barf bags, Patrick’s stomach was fine. And maybe he’s sick, sure—but why doesn’t he feel sick the rest of the time? Why is it only mornings and—

Oh.

Oh, no.

Oh fucking no.

(Or: In which it is difficult to be a wolf in the NHL, especially when you're not that good at condoms.)

Carve His Name With Pride ⭐ - mpreg!Jonny

Jonny leaves behind a home, a house, and a hockey career the month after he learns that he’s pregnant.

Eyass - mpreg!Jonny

"I dunno," Kaner tells him. "Whatever you need, man. You’re having a baby! That’s a lot of work. I want to be here for you."

Somehow, in the dozens of conversations he’s had with teammates and friends and family in the past few days, no one has said those exact words to Jonny: “you’re having a baby”. He has to comb his fingers through his hair and take a deep, steadying breath to compose himself.

Kaner notices and smiles at him; a crooked, beautiful thing. “It’s pretty amazing, isn’t it?”

Heartburn and Survival by dedougal - mpreg!Jonny

They were in Canada when Jonny found out he was pregnant. Afterwards, Jonny used that as a point in his bulleted list of arguments about why Jack should represent Canada but, to be entirely truthful, finding out in Canada - finding out anywhere - was pretty disastrous.

Three Cups and a Pup by Miss_Psychotic, nommedeplume - mpreg!Patrick

The Story of Alpha Jonny and Omega Kaner getting their shit together and learning how to be Adulting Adults (Finally)

Chips and Cribs by whatislife - mpreg!Jonny

“What do you mean there are no chips,” Jonny asks from where he is standing by the island, hand resting on his stomach. “Weren’t they on the list? Did you not buy them?”(Patrick just wants to sleep.)

#patrick kane #jonathan toews #1988 #blackhawks #hockey rpf #chicago blackhawks #kazer #kaner #it's possible i have missed some stuff #it's been so long since i reread anything 1988!#askbox is open for your suggestions on this (╯▽╰ )

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okaybutlikeimagine · 5 years

Note

i love your brother billy series, if youd even call it like that. but what about protective boyfriend? well like billy likes steve a lot and theyre not really friends and billy finds out some ppl give shit to steve and billy comes to the rescue and when steves like whyd you care about it billys like i love you

Sometimes i think “brother Billy” and then i think it sounds like he’s a priest or something. 😂 it makes me laugh. But ohmydear thank you augh!! ♥ so sweet you’re so sweet!

But okay so it sounds like we're in S2?? I'm gonna set this in S2 so that Steve is still going to school w/ them. Like, after S2 when the Fall of Steve is happening bc he left his friends for his girlfriend and then his girlfriend left him for a guy that beat him up last year and now the only time anyone ever sees him outside of school or random parties is when hes w/ a bunch of kids??

And people in high school are Dicks, esp in small towns bc there’s not a lot to fucking do but either be overly invested in everyone’s life or not care about anyone but you and your friends, so people are giving Steve shit and Billy notices and Does Not Like It.

Bc Billy has a major fucking crush on Steve. He’s cute as all hell and he’s protective and a badass and fucking fights monsters and Billy is infatuated. So he sees these people being dicks to Steve, shoving into him in the hallway or following him around during lunch or mocking him during classes and Billy is not happy about it.

And so the next time he sees it, when Steve is running for PE and there’s a bunch of guys running right behind him and next to him, snarling in his ear about how he’s “Not so mighty anymore, are ya?” and “How did it feel being left for a loser like Byers?” and “Better run home to your kids, Mrs. Harrington.”

Well…

Billy trips one of them. And the other guys square up before they realize it was Billy.

“Get away.”

“But… Hargrove, c’mon-”

“I said, get away.” Billy growls, and then they’re gone.

Steve eyes him funny.

“What was that for?”

And even though he didn’t do much, suddenly Billy feels caught. He’s stuck like an animal in a trap, looking at Steve’s brown doe eyes and his pouty pink lips and the sweat beading on his forehead and he’s gonna fucking pass out and-

“Fucking with you is my job, nerd.” Billy says, running past Steve with a shove to his shoulder. He can hear Steve scoff behind him.

And he keeps doing this and keeps shrugging it off. He shoves guys who corner Steve at his locker. He yells at guys who try to meet Steve at his car. He punched a guy in the arm hard when said guy leered at Steve in the shower. That one had him seeing absolutely red.

Every time, Steve gets more and more suspicious about it, and every time Billy tries to brush it aside. Until…

It stops happening. No one is fucking with Steve anymore so no one is giving Billy any reason to get close to Steve anymore.

Except for one day, when these two people who Billy’s never really noticed before are standing in front of Steve’s table at lunch with their trays in their hands. They’re smiling and laughing, poking at Steve’s shoulder as they talk about “Not too good for everyone anymore, are ya?”

And Billy feels like this is his chance, finally after a whole week of no one giving Billy any opportunity, he’s able to rush over there and growl at the guy and girl who are talking to Steve.

“Get away, assholes.”

They look at him shocked, petrified before they turn scared eyes onto Steve and send him a shaken “See ya, Steve.” and then they’re gone.

Billy looks over to Steve to see him looking at Billy incredulously.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Billy doesn’t like that tone for having just saved Steve from bullies. Again.

He wants to say protecting you. He wants to say keeping people away from you. He does say:

“Getting rid of those dicks.”

Steve scoffs amusedly.

“Those two weren’t dicks, they’re my friends.”

Billy’s eyebrows furrow. He’s never seen Steve with anyone other than Tommy and Carol or Nancy and Jonathan… he has… other friends???

“They’ve never hung out with you before.”

Steve smirks. “And how would you even know, huh? Are you stalking me?”

Billy tightens up, shoulders tense and mouth snarling.

“Don’t get a big head I just… didn’t like how they were looking at you.”

Steve is laughing now. It’s pissing Billy off. Especially because Steve’s laugh is so beautiful…

“Right. Okay, well… since you scared my friends off, are you going to eat lunch with me?”

Billy’s panicked now.

“What? Why would I do that?”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Because you scared away my friends and now I have no one to keep me company.”

Billy rolls his eyes. “I’ve got better things to do.”

“Like what, smoke under the bleachers?”

“Shut up.” Billy can feel his heart beating all too fast. He doesn’t like feeling trapped like this. “Piss off.” He grumbles, turning away but Steve reaches out over the table to grab his arm.

“Nuh uh, you’re not getting off that easy. If you’re gonna act like my body guard, then you’ve gotta be here with me all the time. Who knows, maybe someone’s gonna try to steal my Jello or something.”

So Billy sits with a huff, trying his best not to thoroughly enjoy Steve’s smirk.

And the next day at school, Steve is grinning hard at Billy.

“Hey bodyguard, gonna walk me to class or something?”

“You’re such a dork, Harrington.”

“Thanks.” Steve says with a smile that makes Billy wanna fall over.

So he walks Steve to class. He eats with him at lunch. He tries not to let Tommy and Carol get under his skin about it bc they’re fine but they can be dicks, esp when it comes to Steve. They refuse to hang out when Steve’s around and Steve’s alright with it for the most part. It’s still a little upsetting to him, but it’s fine.

And so by the end of the month, it’s just a well known fact that Billy is always with Steve. Protecting him like a dog. Growling at anyone who gets too close to the point where Steve is laughing at Billy and asking: “So, when are you gonna ask me out, Hargrove?”

“What?”

Steve smirks. “You’ve been guarding me like a hawk for weeks. You don’t let anyone pick on me, hell you barely let people near me. When does the date come?”

And Billy feels like he’s in a trap again. Feels again like he’s been found out except this time he’s done everything wrong. He hasn’t been subtle in the slightest and he wasn’t even aware and now he’s got his foot caught in the door and can’t escape.

So he tries to deny it. The words come bubbling out of his chest like soda.

“Harrington, if you think I’ve ever done anything because of… out of… because I love you or something, then you’re even dumber than you look.”

And the second they’re in the air, he wants them back. He feels like a moron. He looks at Steve absolutely terrified because Steve is giving him that look like he’s a cat who just caught the canary. Like he just won the damn fight.

“Love you too, Billy.”

And Billy’s heart leaps from his chest. His mind is spinning too fast to comprehend anything. He doesn’t know what to say, having really been found out so he just… stares at Steve as he backs away from Billy towards his own car.

“You’re such bullshit, Harrington!” Billy calls, because he can’t think of anything else. They’re the only words coming out of his mouth and maybe they’re the wrong ones because his smirk tilts down at the corners for a second.

“Old news, Hargrove. Old news.” Steve mutters before turning to walk properly towards his car.

He calls over his shoulder back to Billy: “Pick me up at 8 tonight! I think they’re showing a bad movie downtown.”

And with that, he’s getting in his car and driving away.

And Billy can’t keep the smile off his face, absolutely melting at what just happened, from the heat of his embarrassment and the heat of his infatuation.

#billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #ask #anonymous #stranger things #protective Billy #!!!#bc tell me Billy isn't protective as fuck over everything that's his #or everything that he WISHES were his...#^U^

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noel-byers · 5 years

Text

What monsters do you fight? || chapter O2

Chapter O1 • Chapter O2 • Chapter O3

Words: 1650

N/A: the girl in the gif with Noel is Melissa

⑆⑇⑈⑉⑆⑇⑈⑉⑆⑇⑈⑉⑆⑇⑈⑉⑆⑇⑈⑉⑆⑇⑈⑉⑆⑇⑈⑉⑆⑇⑈⑉⑆⑇⑈⑉

If there was a place where surely a girl was hiding to cry she was definitely under the terraces of the garden, where they usually played rugby matches. In fact, she was under the seat, with her knees on her chest and her shoulders clutching her bent head. I could hear his sobs and his breath trying to stifle his noisy cry. I slowly approached her and seeing that she still hadn't noticed my presence, I coughed putting both hands in my pockets. Melissa looked up and only then could I see her swollen and red eyes. That piece of shit had reduced it to a rag with a few but sharp words. "Cigarette?" I asked, taking the named item out of a pocket of my jeans.

"I...I don't smoke" she said, sniffling. Ah man that sucks the mucus.

"Better this way" I replied with a shrug. "You will ruin only your breath and your lungs. Smoke isn’t cool kid, unless you want to destroy yourself. Which is really cool” I said with a little irony as I tried to light my beloved cigarette.

A few moments passed in silence until Melissa said lightly to me "Did you see it all?"

"Yep" I replied immediately taking out a cloud of smoke from my lips "You don't have to fear anything, you won't lack respect next time" I said capturing the blonde's attention "It's an insult to the male gender to take it out on a woman when it's ten against one” I continued shaking my head.

"But he had all the reasons in the world, in short, look at me...I'm like all the girls...I thought to impress the bad boy of the school and take his best part out of him...but I just deluded myself" the girl explained, sniffing again.

"Listen to me, Melissa, first of all take my flannel shirt and blow that nose...my heart is crying to sacrifice my favorite dress but I don't have handkerchiefs, so blow your nose before I change my mind" I said handing her my shirt, which she immediately grabbed looking at me, puzzled but not refusing my order.

"You're really weird, ehm..." he stopped, looking into my eyes and making me realize that I hadn't introduced myself yet. I put the cigarette between my lips again and brought my hand closer to shake her in education.

"Noel, Noel Byers" she raised an eyebrow.

"Melissa Danielsen, as you will already know. Are you the sister of the missing child?"

"I would prefer you to call him Will, I'm sick of people cataloging him as a poor outcast" he said pulling up a heavy sigh "Going back to us, I know how you feel now, you'll surely be wondering what made you sell your virginity to that asshole of Billy Hargrove, and many other things that surely do not positively depict your person" Melissa nodded silently “Stop being so hard on yourself, you are young and in fact we are both young and in this adolescence we make so many mistakes" my cigarette, making her realize that as far as I was an employee I hated being under a stupid habit.

"The truth is that in the coming days people will stare at you, laugh at you and make you jokes of bad taste, and you don't have time to cry, you have to be strong, you have to growl and let the comments slip away that are not worth it to listen. Probably the same girls that Billy uses as a sex toy will tease you, but you don't listen to them, i mean, you know which pulpit the sermon comes from" I explained, sucking up some tobacco.

"Not forgetting that I will no longer have friends on my side..." Melissa commented disconsolately.

"And who the fuck am I? Santa Claus?" I asked slightly strangely "I almost blew the head of Billy Hargrove for you and probably because I'm a bit feminist. But first of all I did it for you” I concluded with a shrug.

"Thank you..." she replied with a small smile.

"And then, as strange as it may seem, I have a couple of friends too, and they certainly think like me" I continued to cheer her up letting an almost maternal smile show on my mouth "But now you raise your blonde ass, let's go to the bathroom to rinse your face, you blow your nose with real handkerchiefs and I'll walk you home, huh?” I suggested standing up with a jerk and pulling Melissa by the arm in a playful way, urging her to follow me and she choked and consented.

"All right, as long as you wash your mouth a little, hell, you smell obscene tobacco"

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By evening he had fallen on Hawkings and tonight we strangely breathed less heavy air in my house. It was probably because Bob had come to visit us. He and my mother had been dating for a couple of months and...God, I never saw my mother so happy. Seeing her joking, hugging and kissing with one who finally didn't mistreat her made me feel at peace with myself. Slowly my family was re-emerging from that dark and distressing oblivion, I felt that if they were still passing by a couple of months surely my family could have been called as such.

"What are your plans for the evening? Will you watch a movie?" I asked as I made my entrance into the kitchen, tying my hair into something not too high, Bob turned around and his camera automatically picked me up.

"You choose the boys the movie is evening. Do you, ma'am, have an appointment?" The man asked playfully, infecting me with his good humor.

"Tempting, but not. My shift starts at 8:20 pm and if I don't leave the house in ten minutes, I'll pay back my salary” I explained with a shrug “The only plus is the free hot dogs" I admitted attracting my mother's attention.

"Noel don't eat too many, do you remember that on Jonathan's birthday last year you had a colic and -"

"MUM! I don't want you to make a short film about my intestinal problems while Bob is back! "I answered, turning my face flushed as I ran away with my tail between my legs in my room, looking for my shoes.

I went through WIll's room and my attention was caught by his sudden raising of his voice.

"Stop treating me like that! Like I'm about to break. So don't you help me, just make me feel weirder" my exasperated younger brother said, it was obvious he was arguing with Jonathan.

It was difficult to take someone's part in these situations, I knew how Will could feel right now, he was scared and had suffered multiple traumas, including that of an apparent death. On the other hand, I also understood Jonathan, because it was also my own position, like that of anyone who wanted to help Will. To console some or give him moral support was like wandering in a minefield, you never knew if you could touch some sore point.

I remembered when I decided to sleep together with Will the night made me feel better, I knew that I could protect him, but now that he's growing up and kindly asked me to let him sleep alone, I realize how much my "safety" thought travels one way. As far as I could have been next to Will, there was nothing I could do to keep him from thinking about his mind, he was a demon that only Will could have fought.

"You're not weird" Jonathan said

"Yes I am, I am" replied our younger brother dryly. I looked at the figure of Jonathan who was about to give up, but then he came out with a sentence:

"You're right, you're weird" both my younger brother and I raised both eyebrows. "So why should you become normal like the others? Being weird is better, I'm weird. Our sister who has been staring at us for half an hour is weird” he said pointing to me.

"Hey nerd go easy" I said in an ironic tone, approaching Will's bed and occasionally pulled an ear to my big brother in a playful way.

"Is that why you have no friends?" Our little brother asked disconsolately.

"We have friends, and weird friends are the best. You don't need to have a hundred to feel cool, a couple is enough, because you know that you will remain faithful forever. And then we are creative, sensitive and original, in short, the best on the market" I explained to Will to encourage him, infuse he also had it, but it was obvious that in those dark moments the positives were difficult to see them.

"Then why are you always with me?"

"Because you are our best friend!" Jonathan immediately replied "And we prefer to be friends of Zombie Boy than of a trivial nullity. Do you understand me? In short, who would you like to be friends with? About Bowie or Rogers?" At that point Will almost shivered and shook his head with an amused smile.

"What Jonny wants to say is that normal people never do anything important in life, as Kierkegaard says, they are locked in their 4x4 box with a family and a job, thus continuing until the end of their days..."

"Oh my God the nerd has come, Will stuck your ears!" Jonathan said jokingly, pushing Will away, who had begun to show signs of little laughter.

"Come on idiots, it's important! In summary, it is always the people outside the lines who make the revolution and enjoy their lives properly" I explained hiding a laugh and pulling a small snort.

"What about Kenny Rogers?" Will asked ironically.

"Kenny Rogers? Oh I love Kenny Rogers!” Bob said suddenly, coming out of the corridor and suddenly I remembered that I was being late for work.

"Fuck! I love you guys, please, be good" I said, running off down the corridor.

"NOEL YOU ARE LEAVING WITHOUT SHOES" my mother shouted.

"Fuck the shoes!" I yelled back, turning back.

T O B E C O N T I N U E D . . .

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N/A: Hello everyone! This is a passing chapter, but it also seems right to give some space to noel and her character before making her interact with Billy. Thank you all for your support, you make me really happy. If you want to be tagged in the next chapter, please leave a comment and tell me what you think of the story, if you like 🌸🌺

Tag list:

@xxemoluverxx @sledgy14 @ellenna

#stranger things #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things aesthetic #stranger things gif #stranger things headcanon #stranger things preference #billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove imagines

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mizbabygirl · 4 years

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Defenseman Connor Murphy, the Blackhawks’ part-time locker-room DJ, discusses music and more in this week’s Chat Room (12/07/2019) [from the Chicago Sun Times]

Different music fills the Blackhawks’ dressing room on any given day. Sometimes, it’s Post Malone. Other times, it’s Drake. On rare occasions, a country song might be played.

There’s a lot of pressure when you’re the locker-room DJ, a role defenseman Connor Murphy gladly accepted at the beginning of the season. It’s on you to read the room’s mood and decide whether the team needs a mellow tune for background music or a rap track to get pumped up.

“There’s a lot I’ve learned from different DJs I’ve had on teams over the years,” said Murphy, one of several players in charge of the Hawks’ aux cord. “You’re not ever going to keep everyone happy, but you’ve got to be able to keep a majority of the guys happy because the majority will always trump the guy who’s going to complain about it.”

Overall, center Dylan Strome thinks Murphy is doing a pretty good job as the team’s part-time DJ.

“He always gets the guys going, and he usually knows what the guys are feeling,” Strome said. “At 9 a.m., he’s not bumping hard rock or something, so he’s got good taste.”

Murphy discussed music, shopping for his new apartment and why a meathead YouTuber is out to get him in this week’s Chat Room.

How did you become the designated locker-room DJ?

Connor Murphy: “Nobody else wanted to do it. . . . I started at it this year, but now other guys [Jonathan Toews and Zack Smith] are doing it more. So I’m not even the full-time DJ. It’s just that I started, and if I hear it’s a quiet room, I like to put something on just because no one likes it when it’s quiet. It’s awkward.’’

Who has the worst taste in music?

CM: “There are different arguments with that. [Andrew Shaw] might be up there because he’s comfortable putting his stuff on. He got booed a couple of times. I think he plays, like, ’80s and ’70s music, so obviously that’s not going to go over well with a lot of the young guys.”

What song is your guilty pleasure?

CM: “One of my favorites that would not be the coolest to admit, yeah, probably . . . the Kesha song ‘Praying.’ You know that one? That one gets the feels. Because there’s ones like that that are just deep and heartfelt. That would probably be the one I wouldn’t want playing around too many people.”

What did you do to pass the time when you were sidelined with your groin injury earlier this season?

CM: “I [moved] into an apartment during the summer, so decorating that — as bad as that sounds. Because it has to be done. . . . I had a box spring and mattress on the floor for a while, so I had to order a new bed and try to have a bit of taste in that stuff to fill the apartment. So I was doing a bit of that, some shopping, and I like trying out different restaurants in the city. There’s a lot in Chicago.”

What’s one item you bought for your apartment that you’re most proud of?

CM: “I have this portrait wall where you have a collage of pictures that are all in a grid. Like, you have nine pictures, so it’s three-three-three, and they’re all perfectly aligned. I’m very OCD, things need to be, like, lined up. And I couldn’t do it because it’s impossible to have frames lined up perfectly, so I had someone do it, but I love the picture wall.”

You’re a self-proclaimed foodie, so what are some of your favorite spots in the city?

CM: “Probably, like, Momotaro, Gibsons Italia. I like Tao. There’s a bunch I’m missing, but that’s what’s amazing: You can go to a different spot every night here. . . . I go to True Food [Kitchen] too much. Because I eat healthy, so it’s so easy to get, and Uber Eats makes it way too easy.”

When I was preparing to do this Q&A, I googled your name.

CM: “Oh, yeah, oh, yeah.”

Have you ever looked yourself up?

CM: “I haven’t, but that’s a hot topic. Everyone texts me about that, and it doesn’t change. It’s been like that for a few years. No one’s changed it. I think everyone realizes it’s funny, so they just leave it. A couple of years ago, [Connor Murphy, a YouTube star and fitness influencer,] commented on one of my Instagram pictures and told people to unfollow me, that I was a fake and that he was the real Connor Murphy. So he’s out to get me, I think. But it’s funny. I saw him on YouTube, and he’s kind of painful with some of the stuff he posts. But, yeah, it’s kind of interesting.”

Did you respond?

CM: “No, I just think it’s funny. Whatever. I get, like, people DM-ing me pictures of them posing in front of a mirror with their shirts off — like, guys. Because they think it’s him and for whatever reason. Or they’ll tag me in a picture, and it’ll be some guy standing with his shirt off in the mirror, flexing and being like, ‘New preworkout drink is working for me’ or whatever, and he’ll tag me in it. . . . So I have random guys tagging me in pictures of them with their shirts off. It’s weird.”

Do you comment back?

CM: “No, that would be bad if I did.”

#connor murphy #chicago blackhawks #article from chicago sun times

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sulietsexual · 5 years

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Could you elaborate why you were dissapointed in season 3 of Stranger Things? I haven't seen it yet but feel free to spoil stuff, already saw tons of gifsets on here.

royalweirdonj said:Thoughts on Stranger Things 3?

Okay, so I have some mixed feelings about this season, so I’ll talk about both the good and the bad and why I was ultimately disappointed with this season (at least in part). So we’ll start with …

What I Liked

First and foremost, I absolutely loved what they did with El’s character development and characterisation this season. El is a character who hasn’t really had the chance to grow or develop because she’s always so isolated and/or going through so much trauma. In Season 1 she was basically just a traumatised child and in Season 2 Hopper kept her very isolated and her weird sojourn to find her mother and her sister didn’t feel authentic to me. But this season finally gave her the opportunity to start to develop her own sense of self and I loved that, especially the medium through which she did so, ie her friendship with Max.

We’ve all wanted this friendship since Season 2 but I don’t think that any of us realised how glorious it would be. El is a reserved and unsure character (when she’s not being pushed to save everyone) and so she really needed someone like Max in her corner, someone who was loud and assertive, who would stand up for her when she couldn’t stand up for herself and who could show her how to be more dominant and make her own boundaries and rules. I loved the shopping montage, particularly the part where Max helped her pick out clothes that felt like her (”Not like Hopper or Mike, but like you.”), as well as their sleepovers, the way they investigated everything together and the bond which formed from them being the only girls in a group of boys who didn’t always understand each other. It was a really sweet and organic friendship and I’m so glad that the Duffers decided to develop it.

And speaking of friendships, I also adored the dynamic between Steve and Robyn, the way the show turned what we all thought would be a romantic relationship on its head and instead turned it into a sweet and snarky friendship between two people who genuinely liked one another. Robyn herself was a great character and her presence on the show greatly improved the overall tone. I loved how smart and quirky and snarky she was and Mia Hawke really made the character feel authentic. And I really loved the subversion of her and Steve’s relationship and her coming out scene. Steve Harrington proved what an absolute cinnamon roll he is with his reaction to her coming out; I loved that his only response was to tell her that she needed better taste in women and I loved that in the Three Months Later sequence they were still besties looking for jobs in the same place so they could stick together.

Steve Harrington remained the awesome character he’s always been. Loved that his and Dustin’s friendship is still so intact and that they still care about one another so much. Also loved him sneaking the other kids into the movies on a regular basis. And I liked how the series demonstrated that while he isn’t book smart, he’s smart in other ways, such as figuring out where the music on the recording came from or using the vial of green substance to jam the elevator door open. It shows that he knows how to think on his feet and that he pays attention to his surroundings and is street-smart. I love what they’re doing with his character, allowing him to continue to grow into a more kind, smart and compassionate character with every season.

Also, I loved seeing Science Teacher Scott Clarke again! I missed him in Season 2, so seeing his epic reappearance was amazing! Wish he’d been in more than just one episode.

Characters aside (although, I should mention that I love Joyce Beyers more with every season, her “Mom Voicing” the Government was brilliant and I liked that they touched on her grief over Bob’s death) but that aside, the season felt really well-paced. Only having eight episodes meant that the story progressed quickly and there wasn’t a lot of filler, which was good. There was also so much excitement and action going on that it was very easy to binge-watch the whole season. That being said, I feel like the season changed direction mid-way through, which brings me to …

What I Didn’t Like

Following on from the previous paragraph, I feel like Season 3 started as a character-based season and then quickly switched to a plot-driven season (and on an added note, I was kind of annoyed that the plot this season was literally the same as last season ie the Mind Flayer has taken over someone close to one of the party members and they have to close the gate to stop them - again. Also, the subplot with the Russians was kind of lame).

There was so much characterisation laid down in the first half of the season which was then kind of forgotten about in the second half once the action got underway and then was never resolved. Will spends most of the first three or four episode lamenting his lost childhood and desperately trying to re-connect with his friends. It’s heartbreaking to see how much he craves the days before everything, the days where he felt safe, where his friends were there for him and not concerned with their romantic entanglements. It was actually a really interesting look into Will’s character and how he’s desperately clinging to the old days but once the Mind Flayer comes into play, this is pretty much dropped. Aside from a half-hearted attempt from Lucas to bridge the gap, Will’s disconnect from his friends and the fact that they’re growing up faster than he is and therefore growing apart from him is never addressed again, leaving this particular thread unfinished.

Hopper’s characterisation and his storyline regarding being a parent to a thirteen-year-old was also left unresolved. Overall, I didn’t love Hopper’s characterisation this season. He seemed overly aggressive and I really didn’t like that he got so drunk when Joyce didn’t turn up for their date. He’s obviously having communication issues with El, and the opportunity to resolve these issues died along with him. His jealousy over any man who even talked to Joyce was irritating and I didn’t like that he essentially threatened a fourteen-year-old kid and seemed pleased with himself when said kid then hurt his daughter (because it meant that he got his way and that’s all that mattered). I understand why he was so alarmed with El and Mike spending so much time together but the fact that this never got resolved in an adult manner irritated me. And his death, well, we’ll talk about that soon because that pissed me off beyond belief.

Billy’s character needed more depth. I did feel a bit sorry for him this season and he definitely felt like a better character than the previous season, but any development he had (including his relationship with Max) happened offscreen, so it was hard to believe that Max would grieve for him so much after everything we saw him do to her in Season 2. Obviously things have gotten better between the two of them and Billy himself is nowhere near as gross as he was (although he’s still a dick) but we never got to see this growth/development, so it was hard to really empathise with his character or feel grief over his passing, even for Max.

Nancy’s character felt (once again) kind of useless this season and her storyline was (once again) so separate from the main storyline that I really feel that it could have been removed entirely and it wouldn’t have made a lick of difference. Also, I get that we were supposed to feel that she was being treated in a sexist manner by the men at the newspaper but, I mean, she was only an intern. She wasn’t there as a reporter, she was working as a intern and it’s an intern’s job to run menial tasks such as getting coffee, picking up lunch and doing boring tasks like photocopying and filing and the bad treatment she received seemed to be based more off her intern status than her gender. Also, what did she think, that she would become some groundbreaking reporter based off a summer job with zero experience or writing credentials? Lastly, Jonathan barely felt like a character this season, his sole reason to exist seemed to be to prop up Nancy’s storyline and I hated that after Jonathan delivered that epic (and entirely true) speech about how Nancy didn’t understand the lower class and how he needed the job and wasn’t born with the same silver spoon in his mouth that she was, he then turned around and apologised and said that he was wrong (which he totally wasn’t). Yet another example of Nancy treating a boyfriend like crap and getting away with it, but hey, “feminism”!

I also didn’t really like the dynamic they wrote between Joyce and Hop. It was good at first, with him going to her for advice on how to deal with El and Mike. But once she “stood him up” and they developed that weird snarky “banter”, I found myself growing tired of the dynamic. Also, bringing back the creepy conspiracy theorist from Season 2 to tell them they needed to bang (like he did with Nancy and Jonathan) was, again, so annoying. I hate when characters are told that they have feelings for one another, rather than developing naturally. So yeah, never been much of a Jopper shipper and this season made me even less so. Bring back Bob!

Oh, and lastly, Erica Sinclair is the most annoying little snot of a character. I didn’t find her entertaining at all. She was rude, obnoxious and mean, horrible to pretty much every character, took advantage of Scoops tasting policy while acting like an entitled brat and I just honestly could not stand her. I wish they’d left her out of the Steve/Robyn/Dustin dynamic, she was just such an unnecessary addition.

What I Hated

So, characterisation issues and weird bait-and-switches between it and plot aside, there were a couple of aspects to the new season which I truly hated.

First of all, this season was unnecessarily violent. Like, I get that there’s been violence in this show before, but it’s always been stylized violence, usually aimed at bad guys and quite subdued. But this season? Wow. Starting with that horrible imagine spot where Billy envisions bashing Karen Wheeler’s head in, it just never let up. Having grown men savagely beat up teenagers was way more than I needed to see and the violence often seemed really gratuitous and unnecessarily drawn-out. Steve’s torture at the hands of the Russians was really hard to take, especially because it went on for so long. I hated having to watch them punch Robyn in the face. Jonathan’s brutal beat-down from the Flayed Editor of the paper was horrible to watch and, once again, went on for way too long. Also, watching Flayed!Billy literally choke, punch and smack thirteen-year-old El around was horrifying. Also, his taking of Heather (and later on his attempt to take El) was incredibly rape-y, what with him leaning over them while they were incapacitated and telling them “Don’t move/struggle”, “It will be over soon”. Totally uncalled for and incredibly hard to watch. Maybe I’m oversensitive but I honestly don’t think that the show needed to display that level of violence.

The character assassination of Karen Wheeler continued, with her and her creepy middle-aged mom friends sitting poolside to perv on a eighteen-year-old kid. Imagine if the genders were reversed and it was four middle-aged men perving on a young girl? Also, why would she even consider sleeping with a teenage boy? Sigh. Remember when Karen Wheeler was a concerned and caring parent, who was strong enough to yell at government officials when they wouldn’t tell her what was going on and dropped by a grieving friend’s house with food and comfort? At least she and Nancy had that sweet scene in which she was encouraging to her daughter, but the rest of the time she was just useless and didn’t even know where her kids were.

Speaking of which, why did this show separate Joyce and Hop from their kids for so long? And why on earth would Joyce and Hop be willing to be separated from their kids for so long, after everything they went through the previous year? It felt so OOC for them to not even be suspicious that they hadn’t spoken to either of their children for at least three days, just taking the word of other parents that their kids were alright.

And lastly, the thing which pissed me off the most and actually made both me and my husband instantly switch off from the show and feel like we had just wasted eight hours watching this season, the death of Jim Hopper.

I know, I know, the Stinger maybe hinted that he was still alive. I know we didn’t see a body. I know that there were hints of time travel in future seasons and that Jim Hopper possibly isn’t dead. But you know who doesn’t know this? The characters. And I hate that. I hate that El has now lost her father, less than two years after finally finding one. I hate that she’s now alone, separated from Mike and while, yes, Joyce will take care of her the best she can, it’s never going to be the same. I hate that Joyce now has to suffer through the heartbreak of losing yet another man she had feelings for, less than a year after she lost the first. I hate that she made the decision to move away (even though I understand it) which separated her kids from their relationships and removed El from the one person who still loves her with all his heart. I hate that the season ended on such a downer, with such loss and tragedy and sadness. It really brought down the whole season for me and left me with a horrible, sad and empty feeling and not at all looking forward to more seasons because of all the crap the characters have gone through.

Whew. That got really long. Hope this was coherent!

#psychoticdelena #royalweirdonj #stranger things #stranger things spoilers #stranger things season 3 #answered

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wigwurq · 5 years

Text

WIG REVIEW: STRANGER THINGS 3

Stranger Things season 3 is here!!!!! Bust out your 80s nostalgia and demogorgon attitude because I fully don’t remember where we left off but Netflix kind of reminded me in a very extended recap that was definitely too long? Whatever, let’s just discuss the wigs! (AND MUCH MORE).

As with last season (and any season of TV I review) I will be adding each episode to this post and then changing my wig verdict as the season progresses.

CHAPTER ONE: SUZIE DO YOU COPY?

We begin with two tweens making out and YUCK I really don’t want to live through this! I share this opinion with Sheriff Hopper who has to live through these make out sessions that are scored by 80s soft rock music. Even more insulting: THESE HAIRCUTS. I don’t know at what point these kids are gonna outgrow their bowlcuts but the answer seems to be a resounding: NEVER. Also Elle’s hair has finally grown out! TO THIS?!?!?! What overprocessed curly nightmare is this?! I feel like they were going for a Jennifer Grey situation but if that’s the case, I’ll be needing like 110% more hairspray and like 200% more dancing ability, please.

Anyway, the real news in town is: THERE’S A MALL NOW! It’s called Starcourt which is the most 80s sounding name ever and it is home to SCOOPS AHOY ice cream shoppe where Steve and Uma Thurman/Ethan Hawke’s daughter works. This whole storyline is incredibly Fast Times at Ridgemont High themed but Steve’s hair is still very wonderful. Also he can get all the tweens into the movie theater which is showing Day of the Dead and I get it Stranger Things: YOU ARE MAKING ALL THE 80S MALL REFERENCES.

Also: Dustin is back from camp! It was a science camp called Camp KNOW where and I am definitely gonna see some assholes in this shirt this summer. Anyway, this storyline was all about Dustin forcing his friends into helping him with a radio tower to talk to his possibly fake girlfriend named Suzie and truly: meh.

Meanwhile: WINONA’S SEASON 3 WIG! I’ve gotta say, this season is the best season of wig for Winona. Sure, it is still very much a mess (as is she after the untimely death of her boyfriend Rudy Reuttiger!) but it’s the best wig she’s had so far so MAZEL!

Elsewhere, the most boring teen couple in America (aka Nancy and Will’s brother whose name I won’t learn) are working at the local newspaper and Nancy’s whole job seems to be fetching hamburgers for an entire room of #MeToo examples. Her hair is business chick 80s which is to say: on brand but I could use about 90% more Working Girl, please.

And now let’s get to the only storyline I truly cared about: Nancy’s mom Karen Wheeler (aka Carla Buono). Every season, her wig brings the drama and glamour I crave in an 80s-based TV show. The arc of her wig story is truly the story of America - from 70s disco queen to bored early 80s housewife to the wig we see today - 80s mall glamour queen. AND I AM HERE FOR IT. She and the other ladies of the Hawkins Town Pool are unfortunately here for the worst character on this show: BILLY.

UGH BILLY. I will give this show major props for having his entrance to the same music playing when Phoebe Cates gets out of the pool in Fast Times (second Fast Times reference in this episode tho) but it’s a gender reversal I can definitely get behind. HOWEVER BILLY IS THE WORST. Within 2 seconds of his entrance, he fat shames a tweenager and also HAS THE WORST WIG.

Nothing has changed much from last season on this wig front. It is still very much a curly dried out MESS which is very much trying to reference Rob Lowe in St. Elmo’s Fire yet this bish has yet to wail on a saxophone or talk about granny panties so truly: no redeeming qualities here.

This does not dissuade Carla Buono from falling under the spell of Billy’s terrible wig. To be fair, her husband is a constantly napping Reagan supporter of indeterminate middle age. Anyway, the episode ends with her getting 80s GLAMOUROUS for a latenight rendezvous with Billy at a fleabag hotel. Billy, however, is run off the road by falling/exploding rats (?) and then dragged into a dirty warehouse full of said exploding rats which truly is the fate I wanted for him and his bad rattail so: COSIGN.

CHAPTER TWO: MALL RATS

We begin with Billy in the rat-infested warehouse being very much alive, so already: I’M ANGRY WITH THIS EPISODE. However, Billy and his awful wig have definitely been through the ringer and he’s about to high-tail it out of there when he comes face to face with: HIMSELF?!?! I don’t know what sort of US crossover this is supposed to be...can we get Jordan Peele on the horn about this? Anyway, he drives out of there in his now somehow completely fine car that didn’t work about 5 minutes ago and then stops at the most bizarrely situated telephone booth literally in the middle of nowhere. I thought this might be a Bill & Ted crossover but nope: he just tries to call 911 before all the electricity bails on that plan.

In other telephone news, Mike has been shook to his core by Sheriff Hopper and tells Elle that he can’t see her and makes up some lies about his grandma. Queen on the scene/his mom Karen and her GLAMOROUS PERFECTION WIG are somehow listening in (KAREN!!!!) and she’s concerned about grandma now too. Everyone back at the pool is concerned about Billy/”Billy” (not sure if he’s the real thing or a mole person version or a possessed alien version - probably the latter) and he is straight up RUDE to Karen so definitely: EFF YOU BILLY ALWAYS. There are also a bunch of shots of the back of his nightmare wig that gave me the shivers. Oh, and he fully kidnaps the other lifeguard as a human sacrifice to a demogorgon blob so definitely: EFF YOU BILLY x100000.

This episode also introduced MAYOR CARY ELWES! This is very good casting and this whole storyline seems like an homage to Jaws so: OK! Also Sheriff Hopper asked Winona’s season 3 wig (which is still good!) on a date/nondate which she definitely didn’t attend because she had far more important lessons to learn about magnets and that’s probably the best reason to stand up a dude ever.

Elsewhere, boring couple is investigating some weird rat/fertilizer situation at an old lady’s house and basically I didn’t pay attention to this part because it was boring and it involved exploding rats so: hard pass. Nancy’s hair looked fine. Jonathan’s hair is a mess. The end.

The rest of the episode was devoted to the only kind of rats I like: MALL RATS! Over at Scoops Ahoy, my favorite bromance between Steve and Dustin was rekindled and truly it is a beautiful thing.

However, Maya Hawke and her language skills (which are romance based, not Russian but whatever!) come into play to translate the Soviet message Dustin intercepted. They somehow translate it (SURE?) and also Maya’s hair is about as 80s as John Travolta’s 70s costumes were in 50s-set Grease. This hair is pure 2019 and you do you Stranger Things. THE DEMOGORGON’S IN THE DETAILS ALWAYS.

Meanwhile, Mike is BUMMED about having to lie to Elle so he brings Lucas and Will along with him to the mall to...buy something for Elle to erase the lie he told her? The whole time Will kept asking when they could leave and play D&D and the whole time I wanted these boys to not have bowl cuts anymore.

In the most important storyline, Elle teamed up with Max to have a LADIES DAY AT THE MALL AND I WAS HERE FOR IT! Max does not seem like the kind of chick who is into fashion or commercialism but her overriding guidance of finding yourself through consumerism and forsaking any sad feelings about boys is just good TV. Retail therapy is great!

And I’m sorry but there is absolutely no better cinema than an 80s makeover montage to effing MATERIAL GIRL. YES PLEASE.

Elle also used her powers to prank some asshole chicks at the Orange Julius and this whole part of the show felt very Girls Just Want To Have Fun (the movie but I guess also the song) so VERY YES PLEASE.

THEY EVEN TOOK EFFING GLAMOUR SHOTS. CAN YOU EVEN?! THIS IS EVERYTHING! I don’t know who funded this amazing afternoon at the mall since Max’s parents seem like pretty absentee wrong-side-of-the-tracks types and clearly this whole mall fiasco goes against everything Sheriff Hopper stands for but whatever logic: YAY MALL!

In the end, Elle calls out Mike on his lie and DUMPS HIS ASS! GIRL POWER! MALL POWER! ICE CREAM POWER 4EVER!

CHAPTER THREE: THE CASE OF THE MISSING LIFEGUARD

My favorite bromance, Dustin and Steve, are on the hunt for Russians in the mall! This whole plot is ridiculous and wonderful. They think they’re really onto something here (and maybe they are?) and just need to find some guy with blonde hair and a duffle bag (like all Russians!) When they find someone who fits that description, he turns out to be a FABULOUS aerobics instructor and I like what everyone has done here with the gay or European? trope.

Meanwhile, Hopper comes home from being stood up with bottle of Chianti and general sense of hopelessness when everything takes a turn for the GREAT because Elle isn’t making out with Mike - she’s found a great galpal and they’re having a sleepover. Halleluj all over the place! Elle deserves a great galpal and Max is pretty awesome and can ALMOST land an ollie so I say amen. Winona’s season 3 wig (still great!) shows up and explains about magnets and then they go back to the lab and find an actual Russian (not an aerobics instructor!) but then he hightails it out of there with no other explanation other than the fact that he might be the Terminator and/or just a motorcycle enthusiast.

Anyway, Elle and Max have the best sleepover EVER by using Elle’s sensory deprivation skills to spy on the boys and truly this is the What Men Want crossover no one wanted but sure! (PS the answer is Doritos belches and farts UGH BOYS).

Beyond that, what Will wants is to just play D&D IN THIS GODDAMNED ELEGANT CAPE, OK?! Mike and Lucas go along with it for a bit, but they are just too girl crazy to concentrate on being a nerd for long. Mike yells at Will, “it’s not my fault you don’t like girls” which is interesting phraseology since the internet really wants Will to be gay and only time will tell but honey: the cape eleganza story you’re serving is pretty fabulous, just sayin! (THE DEMOGORGON’S IN THE DETAILS ALWAYS).

Anyway, after some fun sensory deprivation visions of the guys doing stupid stuff, Elle and Max decide to invent a whole spin-the-bottle inspired game to see what other dudes in Hawkins are up to and dammit if the bottle didn’t land on my wig nemesis BILLY. Elle sees that he’s up to some pretty effed up nonsense involving kidnapping that other lifeguard so they decide to investigate IN THE RAIN.

The rest of the episode is mainly devoted to fabulous 80s raincoat fashion and I WAS HERE FOR IT. Beyond these great raincoat lewks, most of the rest of the cast also rocked some fab 80s raincoats (excepting Will who got soaked destroying his childhood fort and Steve who OF COURSE was wearing a members only jacket but jokes on him bc that rain totally dented his ‘do).

Anyway, Elle and Max go over to the missing lifeguard’s house and OF COURSE her dad is the #1 asshole that boring couple works with (oh also they did more boring investigating which resulted in an old lady eating fertilizer. Meh). But shocker: BILLY AND HIS AWFUL WIG WERE THERE TOO.

LOOK AT THE SIDE OF THIS DAMN WIG. Truly, this wig IS the demogorgon of this season.

Anyway, double shocker: THE LIFEGUARD ALSO WAS THERE! Or I guess a possessed version of her since this plotline is getting less US and more Invasion of the Body Snatchers (no need to return my call anymore, Jordan Peele). Also possession or not, this chick’s side pony and wispy bangs are the true terrors (second only to Billy’s wig).

Also can we talk about Billy’s mustache for a second? IT IS SO DISGUSTING. That’s all I have to say. I don’t want to look at it any further. Also look at how dried out this wig is and this whole episode involves torrential rain. I DEMAND MORE WIG HUMIDITY DAMMIT.

Anyway, Max and Elle (smartly) hightail it out of there right before Billy and the lifeguard attack her parents for further demogorgon possessions and we get one last terrifying view of Billy’s wig. HORRIFYING.

CHAPTER FOUR: THE SAUNA TEST

So I’m really liking the whole Elle and Max vibe going along here. I also like that they weren’t dissuaded by the whole Billy being a possessed demogorgon thing to spoil their sleepover. IT CONTINUES! And not only that, Max is literally introducing WONDER WOMAN TO ELLE. I could watch an entire episode of this also because both of their hair isn’t too offensive and they’ve both discovered scrunchies. Mazel! But of course, the guys call in a code red and they have to hightail it over there to fix everything. Ain’t it always the way, ladies?

I would like to take a moment to talk about bowl cuts. So far, I have just lumped both Will and Mike’s bowl cuts into “awful” territory as all bowl cuts are awful. However, this episode gets a lot of shots of the back of Will’s head (because the back of his neck is always sensing those goddamned demogorgons). Anyway, it became very clear in this episode just how terrible this wig is as opposed to Mike’s terrible bowl cut actual hair. I consulted the internet, and apparently the kid who plays Will CUT HIS HAIR (which he was contractually obligated NOT to do) days before shooting began and the wigmaster had to scramble and make a wig literally out of the childhood cut hair of one of her assistants. READ IT ALL HERE. Despite her hustle, this wig sucks in the way that all man wigs suck: the back taper is just all off!! And with all those closeups of Will’s neck it is VERY DISTRACTING!! Billy officially is not the only one with a terrible man wig this season. But his is still the worst!

It did hide a bit under this sweet NIAGARA FALLS hat this episode. And his oily bohunk body was hidden under this sweatshirt which was a dead giveaway to all the kids that SOMETHING WAS AMISS HERE since Billy can barely keep a shirt on at school let alone the pool. Since Will knows that demogorgons (specifically the mind flayer?) like it CHILL, everyone was all: THIS DUDE IS STRAIGHT UP POSSESSED. Great work, kids! Also honestly, this whole lewk was giving me Weekend At Bernies realness and I was here for it (since it implies that Billy is dead which I would like very much please).

Meanwhile, Hopper’s anger management issues get PEAK BLOODY when he just beats the shit out of Cary Elwes (who is technically kind of his boss?) in demanding answers about that Terminator/motorcycle enthusiast who beat the shit out of HIM last episode. Oh, and just an FYI: Winona’s season 3 wig was along for the ride and was still looking great! I cannot say the same for Cary Elwes’s face!

Over at Scoops Ahoy, Steve and his superior wigless mane are doing some serious air duct work with the help of Lucas’s precocious sister. This whole plotline begs the question: do any of the parents of Hawkins ever know where their kids are?

Meanwhile, boring couple is on the rocks after having a really boring fight about whether it’s worse to be a woman or poor and they called it a draw I guess? Anyway, I haven’t spent much time talking about Nancy’s hair which is starting to look a little lumpy honestly and the article I read (link above) told me the bizarre fun fact that most of this hair is real and permed (duh) but that part of the undercarriage is remnants from Winona’s season 1 wig which is obviously why it looks so shitty. The more you know!

Anyway, after being fired by the #metoo boss (who is now also demogorgon possessed) for wanting to investigate why that old lady with the fertilizer eating rats is now also eating fertilizer, she turned to her mom - the one and only queen of Hawkins glamour - KAREN WHEELER. LOOK AT THIS GODDAMNED PERFECT LEWK. Mama Karen ended up giving her a very great motivational pep talk that legit made me cry (SERIOUSLY) about how she had to keep fighting and get the world out about this effed up fertilizer situation. She also delivered a sick burn about her constantly napping husband. I LOVE YOU KAREN.

Back at the town pool, all the kids concocted a Home Alone-style booby trap to get Billy into the sauna, crank up the heat, and prove that there is a heat-hating demogorgon inside him. It kind of worked except they also almost died during the battle royale between Billy’s inner demon (literal this time) and Elle.

Also I know that I demanded wig humidity last time but this is NOT WHAT I MEANT OMG THIS WIG IS A GHOSTMARE. Anyway, Elle saved the day (duh) for now by throwing Billy through a brick wall like he was the Kool-Aid man but seems like he’s forming a demogorgon army of possessed mole people so seems like it’s gonna be one crazy summer, you guys!

CHAPTER FIVE: THE FLAYER

Straight off the bat: this was a weird episode because it included neither my least favorite wigwearer, Billy, nor (SOB) my favorite wig wearer, KAREN WHEELER. So we were left with a bunch of other randos, mainly Soviets. We begin with Winona’s season 3 wig (looking a little rough around the edges in this episode, I am sad to report) and Hopper, fresh off the info he beat out of Mayor Cary Elwes, high tailing it to some farm owned by The Terminator dude. Under his bed, they find a bunker with these two dudes in it. Good morning!

Terminator dude, obvs shows up fairly immediately and lots of yelling, guns, and machismo ensue. In the end, the Terminator is briefly subdued by a fallen bookshelf and Winona’s season 3 wig, Hopper, and one of the rando Soviets escape but not without car troubles because: of course?

After Hopper’s truck explodes, they are all forced to walk through the woods while Winona’s season 3 wig hilariously tries to ask the non-English-speaking Soviet dude about magnets. It’s all pretty silly stuff but I’m here for Winona’s season 3 wig to get some comedic scenes instead of long suffering Christmas light crying scenes.

Anyway, they find a 7-11 where a lot of product placement and caffeine takes place, as well as Hooper yelling a lot for no reason which is essentially his entire character this season. Get some anger management classes, dude! Also the rando Soviet gets a slushie so between that and Billy’s icee last episode: WHAT A TIME FOR FLAVORED ICE WATER!

My absolute favorite part of the episode came next when Hooper commandeered a sweet convertible from this yuppie asshole. I’m not sure how often police commandeer vehicles in real life but I love it when they do it in movies because it’s always taking a car from some pompous idiot who clearly doesn’t deserve to drive (see: Speed, So I Married An Axe Murderer, etc). You can’t get more pompous or idiotic than this yuppie (named Todd, of course?!) with both a popped Polo shirt AND a blazer with zhuzhed sleeves AND white pants. THE NERVE OF THIS GUY FOR EVEN EXISTING! PLEASE TAKE HIS CAR! OMG HIS LICENSE PLATE IS TDFTHR! EVERYTHING IS JUSTIFIED!

Then Hopper, Winona’s season 3 wig, and the rando Soviet drive directly to Murray’s compound in Illinois. I’m bummed we have to suffer through Murray and his existence again since I’ll never forgive him for the gross pull-out couch jokes he made about #boringcouple’s sex romp at his house but here we are. He DOES speak Russian so let’s just get through this translation. Oh and obviously the Terminator dude questioned the 7-11 clerk so he’s probably on his way to Murray’s house now, hopefully to kill him so I don’t have to suffer through any more of his gross sex jokes.

Meanwhile, the Scoops Ahoy spy crew are still locked in that elevator they took way into the bedrock of earth/logic but somehow manage to escape when some (more!) rando Soviets come to unlock some deliveries. Then they discover the whole Soviet plan to reopen the Upside Down while also not being noticed by one single Soviet (great security, dudes!) except for this one Soviet who Steve beats up (GO STEVE!) I’d also like to say that Steve’s superior wigless mane is truly wonderful in this episode. The lights from the underground labs really bring out his summer highlights and it’s truly a thing of beauty. Uma Thurman’s daughter continues to have a 2019 beach wave blunt instagram cut not welcome in this 80s narrative please but otherwise she’s fine.

Over with #boringcouple, they got back together I guess? Remember at the end of season 1 when we were all deeply offended that Nancy was still with Steve and NOT Will’s brother (I refuse to believe he has an actual name). How things have changed! If Steve ever took back Nancy, I would be personally DEEPLY OFFENDED so I guess it’s fine she’s just still a #boringcouple but it’s still boring you guys. Even more boring: the actors are a couple in real life and have been for years! I just found this out this week and found it DEEPLY BORING.

Anyway, #boringcouple teams up with the tween gang to solve this whole fertilizer eating mystery and Nancy totally mommed it up when she put her shitty perm back in a banana clip and told all the kids to buckle up so she could drive her parents’ wood-paneled station wagon and honestly this section felt very Adventures in Babysitting so I’ll allow it. Also Will’s bro’s hair always looks like it was cut by a weed wacker and I’m not sure if this is a comment on his socioeconomic plight but truly Winona’s season 3 wig should get her kids better haircuts please. If her wig can improve so can theirs. In any case, at the missing lifeguard’s house, they vaguely put together some blood-related clues and then decide to visit the fertilizer eating grandma in the hospital.

Only fertilizer eating grandma ain’t there, hunties! Also please return all those flowers to their vase, please. Instead, #boringcouple apologized to each other for their boring fight in an elevator and then had to fight two possessed #metoo bros from the newspaper (which was very satisfying) while Elle and Mike basically starred in an M&Ms commercial in the waiting room. I honestly was hoping that #boringcouple would get possessed too but they ended up being ok (SIGH) and the back of Will’s bowl cut wig sensed danger so I guess Elle is just gonna have to fix everything in the next episode or 3.

CHAPTER SIX: E PLURIBUS UNUM

We begin, UGH, with #boringcouple who are still battling with (part of?) the mind flayer in the hospital and Nancy gets very Sigourney Weaver in Alien and I thought she was about to get flayed but sadly Elle saved her ass. Back at Hooper’s bunker, the whole gang is still basically relying Elle for both protection and sensory deprivation recon. Nancy gels her hair up for some reason (I hope she used DEP!) and Will keeps getting the tingles on the back of his terrible bowl cut wig. Max and Mike have a battle royale about who cares about Elle more and whether women can make their own decisions about their own telepathic powers which Nancy rightfully weighs in on (you go gurl?) But honestly, no one was protecting Elle from the real catastrophe here: WEARING CRISS CROSS SUSPENDERS THE WHOLE GODDAMNED EPISODE. Suspenders are fine and I’m glad Elle has found fashion, but maybe the kids can elect one of them as Elle’s suspenders advocate to avoid this in the future?

Meanwhile, Terminator dude still hasn’t caught up with Murray (sadly) and everyone in his bunker is still very much alive, at least until they die of lung cancer (ZING!) Anyway, Murray does a lot of Russian translation, rando Soviet dude throws a diva fit about slurpee flavors, Hopper continues his reign of anger management/alcoholism problems, and Winona’s season 3 wig is honestly not looking great. They do somehow figure out what the Russians are doing under Starcourt (they even make diagrams and use a lot of Burger King product placement to reenact nuclear scanarios!) And Hopper calls a secure line to demand backup back in Hawkins. Okay?

Back in Hawkins, Bloody Bloody Cary Elwes seems to have recovered from Hopper’s beating pretty nicely (as long as he keeps those shades on) and is very much invested in the 4th of July county fair he is PRODUCING (he even made signs crediting himself!) The Terminator dude demands answers about Hooper but no matter: JUST ENJOY THIS FAIR RIDE!

Speaking of people getting face beatings, Steve is getting absolutely SAVAGED by the Soviets. It was honestly very heartbreaking because he has somehow become the male MVP of this show, partially to do with his hair god status (EVEN WITH A BLOODY FACE HIS HAIR LOOKS SO GREAT!) but also because he’s become a really sweet guy and I just want him to catch a damn break! (Tho please continue to be broken up with Nancy - dear god!)

We shouldn’t be too worried about him getting back together with Nancy, though, because if it wasn’t clear from the moment Uma Thurman’s daughter was introduced: THESE TWO ARE OBVS GETTING TOGETHER. Her hair is still a very 2019 distraction but she’s def an upgrade from Nancy. However, after taking some weird Soviet truth serum (probably just LSD, right?) she admits that she harbored a crush on him way back in the 10th grade and also totally undermines her cool outsider status by admitting that all losers want to be popular (I DON’T KNOW IF ALL LOSERS STAND BY THIS GURL I HOPE THIS IS JUST THE LSD TALKING!) This whole section gives a lot of Some Kind of Wonderful realness and honestly that is a lesser John Hughes work so I’m not sure I can give any of this a passing grade. However, Dustin and my new favorite sass machine, Erica save the day with a nuclear cow prod! GREAT WORK KIDS! ALSO YOUR PARENTS DEFINITELY DON’T CARE WHERE YOU ARE! Speaking of parents, yet again the glamour of KAREN WHEELER did not grace itself in this episode and we were all worse for it.

Back at Hopper’s cabin, Elle decides to go nuclear with her sensory deprivation recon and we all have to welcome BILLY (UGH BILLY) and his terrible wig back. Anyway, he pushes her further into the recesses of his memory/all logic on an astral plane that can only be described as the place where Michelle Pfeiffer was in the Ant-Man sequel (IF YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT HOW VERY DARE YOU). So we get a lot of terrible childhood flashbacks which try to show Billy’s abusive tendencies to be learned from his horrible upbringing and truly: DO NOT MAKE ME FEEL BAD ABOUT BILLY.

JUST LOOK AT THIS IDIOT. NO THANK YOU PLEASE. Despite the humidity of his entire body, his wig remains a dried out hellscape that I would love to never see again for the rest of my days. Also he almost traps Elle in the astral plane they’re on JUST LIKE MICHELLE PFEIFFER IN THAT ANT-MAN MOVIE) but she escapes into the arms of Mike (fine sure) and then Billy explains that he and and his army of mole people have been waiting for Elle this whole time and: REALLY? That seems very specific but you do you, mole people. Oh also all those mole people (grandma fertilizer included!) all file into the rat warehouse and shapeshift into a disgusting mind flayer/demogorgon/blob nightmare. YAY!

CHAPTER SEVEN: THE BITE

Welcome to the Fun Fair (a Mayor Cary Elwes production!) Somehow he recovered from his terrible face beating to show some FACE at this thing. The whole town is there and ready for some 4th of July FUN that will definitely not be ruined by Russians or demogorgons.

Most importantly, this episode gave us the triumphant return of KAREN WHEELER! HER HAIR LOOKS AMAZING! She is bringing full out bouffant glamour to the Fun Fair and damn if she didn’t have this lewk done at Dolly Parton’s salon in Steel Magnolias. IT IS THAT GOOD. Clearly employing the “higher the hair the closer to god” theory - and not just hair-wise actually because this bish bribed some carnie to stop the ferris wheel at its highest point so that she and her family (at least the part of her family whose whereabouts she knows about) can enjoy some FIREWORKS. KAREN YOU MINX I LOVE YOU! HOW ARE YOU STILL MARRIED TO THIS DUDE IN GOLF PANTS?!

The top of the ferris wheel is also a perfect place to see the incoming demogorgon!! The back of Will’s bowl cut is getting the tingles too. And before Elle can fully explain her trip into Billy’s beach memories, the mind flayer is THERE, y’all, busting through the roof of Hopper’s cabin like it’s straight out of a 50s b-movie. I would like to note that for ONCE Winona’s house isn’t about to get trashed so mazel! #Boringcouple armed themselves with guns and axes but obvs they prove completely useless and the flayer is about to steal Elle away when they make a human chain and are victorious...FOR NOW.

Meanwhile, Dustin and Erica are dealing with a very drugged up Steve and Uma Thurman’s daughter and decide to lay low in a showing of (WHAT ELSE?): Back to the Future! They actually show so much of this movie that I’m assuming the entire wig budget went straight to Robert Zemeckis.

Over in the TDFTHER convertible, Winona’s season 3 wig is looking a damn MESS as is all the side projection of them getting back to Indiana. There’s a lot of bickering between Winona’s season 3 wig and Hopper and finally my beloathed Murray has to meet his gross sex talk quota for the season and tells both of them to just have sex already and then he and the Soviet dude laugh a lot and OMG GET ME OUT OF THIS CONVERTIBLE.

#Boringcouple and the kids smash into a supermarket to get Elle some medical help for the leg that the flayer effed up. I’m not sure why a hospital wasn’t an option but it’s probably so there could be more 80s product placement like Mr. T cereal and a whole actual conversation about New Coke. Nancy’s hair is still VERY depped up. Max seems to have the most medical training from skateboard injuries and fixes Elle up pretty well while the dudes prove completely useless other than finding a treasure trove of fireworks. I guess most importantly, Elle was reunited with her ain’ true love: EGGOS. They hightail it out of there with a ton of fireworks that they definitely won’t (lol jk) use later. Oh and Elle’s blood kind of comes alive and Billy and his shitty wig come back to sniff her out. Gross.

Speaking of gross, Steve and Uma’s daughter left the very confusing (for them) screening of Back to the Future to go stare at the Starcourt ceiling to the point of barfing (which I honestly did not need to see TWICE or at all!) The barf did get the LSD out of their systems so now it’s time for truth talk and LURVE TALK! I really have to hand it to Steve for being completely face beaten and bloody and covered in barf and still having enough swagger to admit to Uma’s daughter that he has feelings for her (despite her 2019 hair) and just when I thought this show was so predictable, Uma’s daughter comes out as a LESBIAN!! What? Okay! To his credit, Steve pivots pretty easily to ally/friend and truly: HE IS THE BEST AND WE DO NOT DESERVE HIM. ALSO PLEASE GET HELP ON YOUR FACE WOUNDS AND YOUR HAIR STILL LOOKS GREAT.

NOR DO WE DESERVE THIS MUCH GLAMOUR TWICE IN ONE EPISODE. Karen Wheeler may look great but damn if she knows where her (or Winona’s season 3 wig’s) kids are. But let’s just enjoy this space ship ride! Also a rando carnie calls Hopper “Magnum” and: sick burn. Also there is a woman dressed up as Uncle Sam at the fun fair and between this drag king realness, Uma’s daughter, that one Jazzercise instructor, and (maybe/probably) Will, I’m so ready to throw a Hawkins Pride Parade. Karen is already wearing rainbow stripes!

Elsewhere at the fun fair, Alexei is having the time of his damn life winning a Woody Woodpecker with the support of 10000 children. Sadly, his joy is cut short when the Terminator dude kills him in cold blood. HARSH. Also Murray chooses to blame himself for not guarding him like he was supposed to and instead buying a corn dog. I AGREE, MURRAY: THIS IS YOUR FAULT PLEASE LEAVE. Then Hopper has a whole sequence with the Terminator dude (and some other rando Soviet baddies) in the funhouse which is the second time this season which felt like a weird homage to US and I guess I need to get Jordan Peele on the horn again about this. Anyway, Hopper gets ANOTHER face beating and so does Cary Elwes from Winona’s (also beat) season 3 wig.

Back at the mall, Steve and company are trying to just slip out with the rest of the movie crowd from Back to the Future but the Soviets are totally onto them and it looks like they’re about to be killed when (AGAIN) Elle saves the day by throwing a Chrysler LeBaron on them. GREAT WORK! Unfortunately, Elle is also receiving a threatening phonecall from a mini demogorgon and the call is coming from: INSIDE HER LEG.

CHAPTER EIGHT: THE BATTLE OF STARCOURT

So this demogorgon situation with Elle’s leg is pretty severe so Will’s brother (again name NOT NECESSARY) prepares for mall surgery based on stuff found at the Panda Express and literally gave her a wooden spoon to bite on as if this was happening during the Revolutionary War. The demogorgon leg removal is not working so as always, Elle just DID IT HERSELF because she may be the only capable person in this mall/town.

Hopper and Winona’s season 3 wig (not looking great) and (UGH) Murray show up and everyone compares notes on how to fix this whole mindflayer situation. Most importantly, Erica outsasses Murray and wins. Steve (rightly) gets the keys to the TDFTHER convertible to take him, Uma’s daughter, Dustin and Erica (now known as Scoops Troop) to Dustin’s radio tower. The rest of the tweens plus #boringcouple (now known as The Griswold Family because sure) are getting sent to Murray’s bunker and can’t they maybe stop and get Elle some medical attention on the way? No matter: they’re not going anywhere because Billy, possessed or not, still knows way too much about cars and stole their damn ignition cable. DAMMIT BILLY.

Steve is driving the Scoops Troop up a damn hill to the radio tower while listening to Jackie Wilson’s Higher and Higher which I’m sure is a Ghostbusters 2 reference and also Uma’s daughter looks exactly like her in the convertible driving part of Kill Bill and honestly all of these pop cultural references are getting tiring. Anyway, from the top of the radio tower, they can see the demogorgon closing in on the mall and Steve and Uma’s daughter hightail it back there.

At the mall, Elle is having some trouble moving that LeBaron to get the ignition cable - she can’t even move a damn coke can. WHAT GIVES? This does beg the question: since she has literally done all the heavy lifting this season, could she maybe call in a favor from her telepathic sister in Chicago? Why did this show even introduce that character - just to check off “punks” on their 80s pop culture list (note: DEFINITELY) But seriously, it’s like when Marvel makes a stand-alone superhero movie after an Avengers movie. SOMEONE GET THAT PUNK CHICK ON THE HORN!!! Anyway, Will gets some back of bowl cut tingles and the damn demogorgon smashes through the roof. Elle, Mike, and Max make a run for it through the gap, where the demogorgon confuses a mannequin wearing Elle’s same clothing and truly: the gap would NEVER sell this graphic eleganza! Did Esprit just not want to be involved in this whole mess because that is where she would have bought that. The rest of the tense gap scene plays out basically exactly like the kitchen scene in Jurassic Park. Meanwhile, #boringcouple is doing boring auto work while Billy just endlessly stalls in his evilmobile but is about to hit them when MVP hair god Steve saves the day and everyone piles into the station wagon. YAY!

Elsewhere, the Terminator dude has made it to the Soviet subbasement where Hooper, Winona’s season 3 wig and (UGH) Murray are now in Soviet apparel. Winona’s season 3 wig (looking great hidden under that hat) and Hopper have a nice talk and make plans for a legit date which definitely won’t be derailed by a demogorgon (lol jk jk). Murray manages to infiltrate the room where all the wires control the nuclear weapon the Soviets are using to open up the Upside Down and why wasn’t this room better guarded? Oh well. Much like sucking at guarding Soviets and not buying corndogs, Murray sucks at remembering important numbers which are the combination for the nuclear keys.

Of course the code is some nerdy equation that requires Dustin to ask fellow nerd (and girlfriend Suzie who exists!) for help. But not before Suzie demands that Dustin sing....The Neverending Story theme song. This is peak 80s cultural reference and we can all go home now. Also it is mainly an excuse for Galen Matarazzo to sing and sure: he and this chick sound great! Now please get those damn keys!

Elle, Max and Mike are confronted with (unfortunately still alive) Billy who beats the shit out of all of them and takes Elle. She’s about to get flayed when Lucas and Will throw all those damn fireworks on the demogorgon. Sure! Elle uses Billy’s memories to reason with him. This show definitely wants us to root for Billy all of a sudden because he turns on the demogorgon but I REFUSE TO LIKE BILLY WITH THAT DRIED OUT WIG IN THIS SWEATY MALL.

Back in the subbasement, Winona’s season 3 wig and Hopper are ready to end this but the Terminator dude shows up. They duke it out very close to a nuclear warhead while Winona’s season 3 wig turns into MacGuyver and uses a belt to try to disarm both keys and bless her. Hopper throws the Terminator into nuclear generator thingie. Byeeeeee. Then Hopper looks back at Winona’s season 3 wig for long enough to definitely make it back into the safe glass room where she is but instead just gives a really long nod, signalling her to disarm the nuclear whatever thing and he definitely (absolutely does not) die.

However, all my hopes and dreams for Billy’s death finally came true! YAY FOR ME AND MY HATRED OF HIS TERRIBLE WIG AND HIS CHARACTER WHICH HAD NO REDEEMING QUALITIES NO MATTER HOW MANY BEACH FLASHBACKS TRIED TO PROVE OTHERWISE. I will say that his exit is VERY METAL so in some ways, this was the only appropriate death for his Metallica and Tank loving character. FINE. Two seconds after he and the demogorgon die, the feds show up with Paul Reiser! I am honestly very mad at this show for not blasting Pat Benatar’s Little Too Late during this entire sequence. OH WELL. Outside the mall Winona’s season 3 wig and Will’s terrible bowl cut wig are reunited in a bad wig hug. Then Winona’s season 3 wig catches sight of Elle and gives her a look that says: I am definitely adopting you.

Three months later, a fake Inside Edition show gets us up to date on the burning of the mall, government coverups, and comeuppance of terrible mayor Cary Elwes. Also Uma’s daughter (now with 80s appropriate updo!) and Steve are trying to get jobs at the video store! Uma’s daughter and her love of Billy Wilder movies make her a shoe-in for the job but Steve's taste in the Ewok Star Wars movie and the 5 minutes he saw of Back To the Future whilst on LSD don’t make him the best candidate. Also he trips over a Phoebe Cates cut-out and truly Phoebe Cates: thank you for your service in being name-checked constantly this season. In the end, Steve’s awesome hair gets him the job. Maybe?

Meanwhile, Winona’s season 3 wig is moving just like she said she was going to this whole season and no one believed her. Also she put her wig back in a ponytail and: good move it looks ok! Elle still doesn’t have her powers back but eh? She does get a heart-tugging letter from beyond the grave (he’s totally still alive) and all the kids/tweens/#boringcouple sob that they are being separated. It isn’t clear where Winona’s season 3 wig is going or how she could have sold her shitty house in the town that fake Inside Edition show called haunted. And yes, separating her now 3 PTSD kids from their only support group is also shitty but what has this goddamned town ever done for Winona and any of her seasons’ wigs other than stealing her children and killing her love interests and trashing that shitty house at least twice?! I SAY GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE (they will fully be back next season).

After collectively sobbing all their faces off, the tweens of Hawkins are left only with the ELEGANZA OF KAREN WHEELER and whatever healthy dinner she’s preparing with the help of some white wine. YOU KIDS ARE STILL LUCKY WHO NEEDS FRIENDS WHEN YOU HAVE KAREN WHEELER! Oh and back in Russia, Hopper is like 110% definitely still alive. See y’all next season!

FINAL VERDICT: DOESN’T WURQ (YOU KNOW IT WAS BILLY’S FAULT)

#wigwurq #doesntwurq #strangerthings #hawkins #UGHBILLY #80sMALLWIGS #KARENWHEELER #EXPLODINGRATS #EXPLODINGRATTAILS #retailtherapy #glamourshots #girlsjustwanttohavefun #mallpower #raincoatfashions #wighumidity

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hysterialevi · 6 years

Text

Blood on the Looking Glass pt. 2

From Geoffrey’s POV

GUARD OF PRIWEN HQ

Returning to our base after a long day of work, Woodbead and I made haste in the darkness of the night as birds sang faintly in the distance, signaling the start of a new dawn.

To my disappointment, the Guard of Priwen hadn’t been making as much progress as I’d hoped...and we’d already been here for an entire fortnight. I knew catching Reid would be no easy task -- especially in a city like Paris -- but it was evident that the Ekon had grown accustomed to evading our men.

After all, we spent so much time fighting him in London. It only made sense that, the more we hunted him down, the more he would adapt to our tactics. And he was no longer some confused, fish-out-of-water newborn.

Jonathan had evolved into an experienced, superior Ekon with the blood of an ancient vampire...and he certainly knew how to put it to good use. We couldn’t afford to make the mistake of underestimating him. I already made that mistake once -- and it cost me my life.

“You think the others have found anything yet?” Andrew asked me, disrupting the deathly silence.

I sluggishly slid a hand down my face, opening the entrance to our base.

“Hopefully. I have faith in the Guard’s skills, but Paris has been barren lately in terms of leads. Reid certainly knows how to cover his tracks. And so do his allies.”

A brief memory flashed in my mind, causing a scoff to escape me.

“To think, I used to believe Jonathan would end up getting killed by some random Priwen. The first time I met him, he was nothing but a feeble corpse seeking refuge in the rundown Pembroke. I never expected him to become the threat he is today. Shows you how foolish I was to not kill Swansea. ...What was that man thinking? Offering vampires shelter? In a hospital, out of all places. It’s no wonder their patients always turned up dead.”

Woodbead followed me inside, locking the entrance behind us.

“None of us could’ve predicted this,” he reassured. “Especially not from someone who used to make a living saving people. Trust me, you’re not the only one who didn’t see this coming.”

I shook my head. “But it’s my job to know, Andrew. As your leader, it’s important that I’m able to detect these types of threats from a mile away. Otherwise, we’d all be dead.”

I let out a frustrated sigh. “Ah...I should have put a stake through Reid’s heart the moment I saw him. Would’ve spared London a colossal amount of trouble...but I suppose regrets are useless, aren’t they. All we can do now is put that leech down, once and for all, and avenge the countless lives he’s taken.”

“Come,” I beckoned. “Let’s see what the others have been doing.”

Entering our headquarters, Andrew and I were greeted with the distant sound of conversation coming from the rest of the members as we passed by our fellow Priwen. There weren’t as many of us in Paris as there were in London, but even then, I still had confidence in our success.

After all, a smaller family meant it was easier for us to communicate, and on top of that, these people were chosen for being the best of the best. It was like having our own, elite group within the Guard...and that was precisely what we needed to kill Reid. I just hoped he hadn’t formed his own family.

Strolling through a tall, wooden archway, I headed towards the main area of the base which had been decorated with Priwen banners, swords and shields on the walls, shelves stuffed with books about vampires, elegant drapery, paintings of previous leaders, and a simple but bold chandelier hanging aloft.

But what really caught my attention was the large, circular table in the center of the room. It had been crafted out of a majestic mahogany with intricate designs of leaves, vines, and gargoyle heads carved into its sides. And on its surface, lay a vast map of the city marked with all sorts of icons. It was the perfect device for the Guard.

Upon arrival however, I noticed that there was already a pair of people seated at the table discussing something clearly urgent as they exchanged hushed words, careful not to alert anyone outside the base.

Among them was Eleanor Gray, a middle-aged woman who joined the Order just a couple years ago. She appeared stern and motherly on the outside with the gaze of a hawk, but carried a fire that burned like no other within.

Her signature feature was a lengthy scar on her nose that she received from a fight with a Vulkod, and her short, black hair only had a few strands of silver in it despite her age. Just by looking at Eleanor, you’d never be able to guess she had such a dark history with Doctor Reid.

Apparently, the leech actually started out as a friend of the family, but things took a dark turn when her son grew too attached to him. It left the boy completely vulnerable to the Ekon’s true intentions, and one night, he decided to spend some time with Reid...only to never come back.

Even worse -- when her husband tried to look for their missing son, he too met the same fate. By the time Eleanor learned what had happened, Reid was already long gone.

Their deaths instantly drove Eleanor straight to my doorstep. She just appeared outside our base one day, standing in the middle of the pouring rain with nothing but a shotgun in her hands, and a desire to get revenge.

The man sitting beside her now, Alexander Hale, was the first to befriend our new recruit.

Hale was a much different story compared to Eleanor. In fact, I didn’t really know what his story was in the first place. Alexander had never been a man of many words, and he only ever spoke when he thought something needed to be said -- which made him quite a mystery to the rest of us.

Regardless of his wordless tendencies however, Alexander still managed to be one of the more prominent members in the Guard. His head of neat, auburn hair was quite hard to miss, and his globular, blue eyes stood out like a pair of crystal orbs. There was also the fact that his presence alone was enough to make an impact. I had seen rooms full of people fall completely silent upon his entry, and even I couldn’t deny that he did hold a somewhat intimidating temperament.

I supposed that was why Hale made such a skilled vampire hunter.

Approaching the large table, I immediately got the attention of the other Guards as Eleanor’s head perked up, both of them now focused on me and Woodbead.

“McCullum, Andrew,” Eleanor said, sounding somewhat relieved. “You’ve returned. Did you find anything whilst you were out investigating?”

Woodbead pulled out the diary from Elise’s apartment.

“Another lost soul, I’m afraid...” He replied, placing it on the table. “It was a young woman named Elise this time. According to her diary, Reid had been seducing her for quite a while. And she fell for it.”

Eleanor’s nose crinkled in disgust, her eyes sinking downwards.

“...That bastard,” she whispered. “Always preying on those who can’t fight back. Oh...poor girl. I hope she was the only victim you discovered.”

“For now,” I confirmed. “What about you? What were you discussing before I arrived?”

“Well, there’s good news and there’s bad news,” she replied. “The good news is we may have identified one of Reid’s accomplices.”

“...And the bad news?” I asked.

Eleanor leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “We think they may be another Ekon named Edward Blackbourne. The locals here call him ‘The Pestilent.’ Apparently, he’s been around since the early eighteenth century, and has a habit of targeting young women. He’s also become somewhat of a bogeyman. The strange part however, is he hasn’t been in France for that long. The woman we spoke with said he only arrived two years ago.”

The pieces clicked in my head, leaving a feeling of dread in me.

“...The same time Reid left London. That can’t be a coincidence. Where is this woman you mentioned?”

“She works at the nearby pub,” she answered. “Her name is Adelie. Though, be warned, she has a reputation for being somewhat...crazy.”

I raised a brow. “Why’s that?”

Eleanor chuckled, though not out of amusement. “She believes in vampires...but no one believes her.”

I gave her a nod. “I see. Well, I’ll go have a word with her; find out what else she knows. In the meantime, I want you and Alexander to patrol the area around here. I don’t know why, but I’ve noticed most of Reid’s victims have been from these parts. If we’re going to gather anymore clues, we should do it here. Andrew -- you’re with me.”

Woodbead straightened his posture. “Ready when you are, sir.”

Eleanor rose from her seat. “As are we.”

“Then let’s get to work, people,” I ordered. “We don’t have long before Reid or Blackbourne decides to strike again, and I certainly don’t plan to wait for them. These murders have to end now. So let’s move!”

Swiftly taking our leave, Andrew and I wasted no time in hurrying over to the pub Eleanor mentioned as we glided through the dawn’s fading darkness, anxious to avoid the sun.

I knew it was incredibly risky to wander outside during this hour, but I couldn’t afford having my own men grow suspicious of me. There was already tension among the Guard with all the recent killings, and the last thing I wanted was for us to lose trust in each other. If my time with Carl Eldritch taught me anything, it was that infighting could be just as damaging to our Order as any vampire out there...and he was right.

“Sir.” Woodbead called out, causing me to pause for a moment.

“Yes?” I said. “What is it?”

The young man glanced at the sky, clearly preoccupied with something.

“...If you want me to speak with Adelie alone, just say the word. I could easily get the information we need, but I don’t want to see my leader burn alive just because we were a few minutes behind schedule.”

Despite my urge to retreat to the shadows, I refused.

“No, it’s better if I’m there. Anything could happen with all these vampires lurking around, and if trouble were to find us, I’d prefer you didn’t face it alone.”

He continued to push the subject. “You’ve seen me fight, McCullum. I know the scars on my face say otherwise, but I can defend myself. You don’t need to worry about me.”

I remained unswayed.

“I’m coming with you, Andrew. There’s no telling what we can expect, and I--”

Suddenly feeling light-headed, the world began to spin around me and I found myself stumbling for a second before tipping over, hurriedly using a nearby wall for support as Andrew practically threw himself in front of me.

“Sir!” He exclaimed, fretting like a worried parent.

“...I’m...I’m all right...” I mumbled, waving a dismissive hand. “Just...need a minute...”

Andrew furrowed his brow in concern, instantly pinpointing the problem.

“You need blood, Geoffrey. You’re not getting enough.”

I gazed at him with heavy eyelids, shrugging weakly. “...And where...are we supposed to find that?”

Without saying anything, Woodbead simply gestured to his own neck, slightly pulling down the collar that concealed it. Again, I declined.

“We’ve talked about this before,” I reminded him. “I’m not feeding on you. Or anyone, for that matter.”

Still, Andrew insisted. “I can handle giving a little blood.”

I pushed myself off the wall, attempting to move on as if nothing happened.

“Well, I’d rather not take the risk. By nature, vampires are addicted to blood. If I taste even a drop of yours, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”

“But--”

I regained composure, taking a deep breath. “I’m fine, Andrew. Really. My thirst won’t kill me, but it could kill you. Now, enough about this. Let’s return to the mission at hand. We only have an hour or so before the sun’s up. We should make haste.”

At last, the young man gave in, letting out an unsure sigh.

“...As you wish, sir. Just...keep an eye on yourself, yeah? I don’t want you falling over while we’re out in the open.”

“It won’t come to that,” I reassured. “I promise.”

In reality though, I knew Andrew was right. I wasn’t going to be able to ignore this thirst for much longer. Ever since the minute I woke up in that godforsaken hospital where Jonathan left me, my throat had been parched.

So far, I had been lucky enough to resist the temptation, but with every passing day, I could feel my body withering more and more as an aching sense of hunger consumed it from the inside-out.

It continuously climbed its way up my list of concerns, and I had no idea when I would reach my breaking point. But no matter what, I told myself I couldn’t give in to the thirst. I just couldn’t. I refused to betray my people’s trust like that...and I wouldn’t.

A familiar voice suddenly whispered in my ear, their ghostly words interrupting my thoughts as my vision turned red.

“...Rotten or pristine, each heart contains the seeds of life. Drink at this river. Dry it all...!”

A series of chills ran up my spine.

It was Jonathan. He was listening to me. I could feel it.

No, I said to myself. Don’t do it. Resist the thirst. You must...!

Reid’s ominous chuckle echoed in my head.

“It is wise for the huntsman to sometimes let his prey go...but no famished hunter can run for long. Not even you...”

I gritted my teeth in frustration.

“Leave me be, you filthy leech...! I won’t walk down the same path as you. I won’t become a murderer.”

Another laugh escaped Jonathan, his tone dripping with malice.

“Give up this pointless charade, my progeny. You and I both know it won’t work forever. Embrace this gift I have given you, and welcome your true potential with open arms...”

With that said, my vision gradually returned to normal, and the red drained from the world like blood leaking out of a vampire’s feast. Before loosening his clutch on my mind however, Jonathan left me with one, final piece of advice as a temporary farewell.

“Satisfy your hunger...” he warned, “...or become it.”

#vampyr #jonathan reid #geoffrey mccullum #jonathan x geoffrey #fanfic #story

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kikiskeysgame · 5 years

Photo

When I heard that Patrick Kane wouldn’t be playing in last night’s game due to illness, I hoped that the Blackhawks would find a way to adjust to playing without him in the line-up and bounce back from Sunday night’s loss. Although the first half of the game was all Blackhawks, the rest of it was all Canucks.

The Blackhawks played quite well in the first period as Brandon Saad scored his third goal of the season. Despite the loss, it was a good night for Saad; he was visible throughout the entire game, made some good plays and had some good scoring chances.

I also thought that Chris Kunitz had a pretty good night as well; he even got an assist on Saad’s goal. I wasn’t sure how Kunitz would adjust to playing in Kane’s spot on the second line, but he didn’t look so bad.

However, the Blackhawks’ lead didn’t last for long as Jake Virtanen scored a goal to tie up the game.

The early half of the second period got better for the Blackhawks as Jonathan Toews scored a power play goal, giving the Hawks a two-goal lead and Luke Johnson got his first NHL career assst.

Just when it seemed like they had the momentum going, Jake Virtanen scored his second goal of the night due to a bad pass by Jonathan Toews (which is quite out of character for him) as John Hayden gave up his stick to Henri Jokiharju and Toews was unaware of it.

After that, all the momentum went to the Canucks and they ended up scoring two more goals to win the game. The Blackhawks had plenty of chances to make good things happen out of the game in order to bounce back, but they were just unable to capitalize on it at all.

Although it was good that Marcus Kruger stayed out of the penalty box in the game, Brent Seabrook didn’t seem to get the message of staying out of the box as he got two unnecessary penalties. The Blackhawks did a good job with the penalty kill, but they all need to realize that taking unnecessary penalties can be costly if they’re not careful.

Tonight, the Blackhawks will be playing in Edmonton and after what happened on Sunday, hopefully they’ll be able to get their revenge on the Oilers. I also hope that Patrick Kane will be well enough to play again for the rest of the road trip because the Hawks not having one of their top players in the line-up definitely affects them.

Until then, go Blackhawks!

Here are the “3 Stars of the Game”:

#1. Jake Virtanen (Canucks) #2. Brandon Saad #3. Brendan Gaunce (Canucks)

#chicago blackhawks #vancouver canucks #post game review #brandon saad #jonathan toews #john hayden #henri jokiharju #luke johnson #chris kunitz #patrick kane #3 stars of the game

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crayonwriting · 6 years

Text

What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve?

Summary: No one deserves to be alone on New Year’s Eve. Not even a ‘shitty boyfriend’ like Steve Harrington.

Word Count: 2.9k

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Inspiration: What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve by Ella Fitzgerald . I mostly get inspirations from songs so, expect that a lot from me (my next fic is inspired by another song actually, haha.) This is just a sweet, sweet song and I am just a sucker for music in the 50s to the 80s. I HIGHLY suggest that you listen to it on loop; just to set the mood.

A/N: Thank you so much for 100+ notes on ‘The Lady Killer’! Really didn’t expect that. Thank you to all who read it and enjoyed it. Thank you for the feedback and comments too—these give me fuel to write even more! So, I hope you all enjoy this one too! Another Steve fic because I am totally in-love with that boy! Set just days after the Snow Ball.

—

December 30th, 7:36 PM

You, Steve and the party were sitting on the sidewalk, just outside The Hawk. You had just gone and watch Christine, enjoying a good scare just before the year ends.

“So, what are you guys doing for New Year’s Eve tomorrow?” Dustin asked.

“Light fireworks, of course!” Lucas exclaimed. “It’s not the New Year if there’re no fireworks!”

“Yeah, we’ll probably light ‘em at my house. My mom bought a lot of stuff to light too.” Mike piped up. “You guys are invited, obviously.” Everyone laughed at this. “You’ll be there too, right El?”

The curly haired girl, who had her head laying on Mike’s shoulder, sat up straight and looked at him. She smiled softly before nodding. Mike smiled back at her, then looked up at the rest of the party. “Dustin?”

“I can’t.” Dustin frowned. “My mom wanted to visit her sister somewhere upstate. We’re leaving tomorrow morning.”

“Same here. Neil’s cousin or something is throwing this party. Unfortunately, we’re gonna attend.” Max sighed. She didn’t really want to go. Seeing more of Billy’s relatives was just gonna be a nightmare for her.

“Good luck with that.” Lucas patted the back of her hand. Max just smiled sadly. “You coming Will?” He asked.

“Yeah, I think so.” Will nodded his headed. “Jonathan is visiting Nancy, so yeah, I guess so.”

“Hey! Try to be a little more sensitive Will!” Dustin scolded. Will and the rest of the party looked confused. Dustin not-so-subtly pointed to the teenage boy who was sitting beside him. They all nodded in understanding, with Will mouthing a ‘sorry.’

“C’mon guys. I’m over it.” Steve said. Everyone remained quiet, not really believing it. Steve coughed and stood up. “It’s getting late. I’ll drop you all off. Let’s go.” He started to walk to his car which was parked nearby. You and the kids followed.

“Don’t worry about him guys.” You said. You put a hand on Will’s head smiling down at him.

“Steve, I’m sorry about earlier,” Dustin said.

“Kid, it’s okay. I’ll get over it.” Steve pulled down the front of Dustin’s cap. Dustin tried to dodge Steve’s attack but wasn’t successful. He smiled at the older teen before getting out.

“See you next year guys!” Dustin said as he closed the door of Steve’s car. He was the last kid to be dropped off. You waved back at Dustin from where you were seated.

“Enjoy the trip Dusty!” You shouted. Steve waited for Dustin to enter his house before starting the car and driving away.

The car ride to your house was silent. What were you supposed to say? Steve hasn’t talked to you about what really happened between him and Nancy, not with all the happenings in the tunnels and the gate and the Upside Down. You just hadn’t had time to sit down and talk about it.

Steve was your best friend, always has been since you met him in 6th grade. He stopped talking to you during his reign as ‘King of Hawkins High’, also he started hanging out with assholes like Tommy H and Carol. Your friendship was rekindled when you saw him—his face bleeding and bruised—scrubbing away the vandalism he and his so-called friends did at the cinema. You waited for him and cleaned up his wounds. Apologies were made and you became best friends again.

Despite it being cliché, you had a crush on Steve. How could you not, when you had spent most of your time with him during your middle school and the beginning of your high school days. You couldn’t blame him for falling for Nancy Wheeler. She was pretty, smart, and very determined. But hearing about their breakup—and they say it was bad—you couldn’t help but feel sad because you knew how much Steve loved Nancy. She was probably the first girl, out of all the girls he dated, that he loved.

From the passenger seat of his car, you could see how tight he held the steering wheel, how his lips were set in a straight line and how he was so focused on looking straight ahead. You knew he was hurting but he didn’t want to break. You wanted him to talk about it so bad but you couldn’t force him to. You decided that maybe a little small talk could do the trick.

Maybe it’s much too early in the game Aah, but I thought I’d ask you just the same What are you doing New Year’s New Year’s Eve?

“So Steve,” you started, pulling on the hem of your shirt, “What are your New Year’s Eve plans?”

“Nothing. I’ll just be at home.” Steve replied.

“What? You can’t just stay at home for the New Year!” You were looking at him now. “It’s boring! You should be out partying!”

“That’s a lot coming from someone who rarely goes to parties.” He smiled lightly, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel.

Wonder whose arms will hold you good and tight When it’s exactly twelve o'clock that night

“You know me. I just don’t like the smell of sweat and alcohol.” You put your tongue out at him in a childish manner. “Tina’s hosting another party tomorrow. I heard it’s her big Year Ender party. You should go. Have some fun, Steve!” He stiffened at the mention of ‘Tina’ and he sat up straight.

“Listen Y/N,” he licked his lips and continued, “I know about Tina’s party tomorrow. Everyone’s been bugging me about it—the basketball team… Hell, even Hargrove’s been on my back about it, wanting to challenge me to another keg fight or something.” He took a deep breath and sighed. “And now you want me to go there too.”

“Listen, Steve, I—”

“I don’t want to go okay?” He cut you off. “I just… I don’t know… The last party I went to was bullshit. Just… let it go, okay?” He looked at you briefly, before averting his gaze back on the road.

The rest of the trip was quiet. So many thoughts ran through your head. Steve shouldn’t be alone on New Year’s Eve. Nobody should ever be alone on New Year’s Eve. It’s a symbol of new beginnings. With all that happened the past few months, you all deserved a fresh new start and that’s exactly what you’re gonna get.

The car stopped in front of your house. The porch light was on, but the rest of the house was dark. You turned to look at Steve who was still looking straight down the road.

“Look, I’m sorry if I stepped a line back there. But I can’t let my best friend spend New Year’s Eve alone and sulking.”

“I am not sulking.” He countered.

“You definitely are sulking.” You giggled. “So, I have a plan for tomorrow. If you ever decide to stop moping around and spend the last day of the year with your amazing best friend,” you leaned in closer to him, whispering, “that’s me,” he laughed at your antics, “pick me up at 10 PM.”

“What are we gonna do?” He asked.

“Pick me up and you’ll see.” You pushed the door open and stepped out of his car. “Drive safe, Harrington. Thanks for the ride.” You started up the steps of your front yard and to the porch. You opened your front door. Before entering, you looked back at Steve waving at you. You waved back and entered, closing the door behind you.

You let out a breath and got ready for bed.

—

Maybe I’m crazy to suppose I’d ever be the one you chose Out of a thousand invitations You received

December 31st, 9:58 PM

Ever since you woke up this morning, you have been in and out of your house preparing for what you had planned for you and Steve. You bought some groceries, making him and you some sandwiches and buying a pack of soda. You bought some sparklers at Melvald’s and also some flashlights.

Truth be told, you didn’t exactly know how you were gonna execute your plan. You just hated to see Steve so vulnerable and so sad. Even if he doesn’t feel the same way, you just couldn’t bear to see him like that. It was your job as his best friend to cheer him up. You sighed. You didn’t even know if Steve would come pick you up. He might just go to Tina’s party after all. But, he wouldn’t just bail on you, his best friend, right?

You checked your watch and saw that it was already five minutes past ten o’clock. Should you just go to bed? You should maybe just wait for a few more minutes. You were seated by the window, waiting for your best friend to come. The backpack that had all the things you needed was sat on the floor beside you.

Moments later, a familiar set of headlights were approaching. The car parked in front of your house. You jumped and scrambled to the front door, quickly putting on your shoes. Your heart was hammering against your chest. For a moment, you thought that Steve would’ve gone to the party. You squealed inwardly and rushed outside, just as Steve was walking up your yard.

“Good to see you, Steve. C’mon let’s go!” You yanked him back towards his car. When you reached the passenger door, you turned around and saw him still standing in the middle of your yard. “What are you waiting for?”

“Where are we even going, Y/N?” He asked, raising his shoulders in question, with his keys in his hand.

“Oh come on, Steve! Don’t you trust me?”

“Well yeah, but—“

“Bar none. C’mon.” You urged. Steve sighed before smiling to himself and jogging back to his car.

For the remainder of the night, you had tried your best to cheer Steve up.

You both drove around the town, directing him where to turn while eating the sandwiches you made. He complimented them and your heart leaped just a little bit. You told him random stories about how milk had suddenly come up your nose and out one lunchtime; and that time you smacked Mr. Colins’ toupee off his head after rushing to get to your class, or that time you almost set your lab partner on fire. Steve laughed at all of the things you said. These happened during the moments he left you for Tommy H and Carol, that was why he hadn’t heard of any of those happening to you.

“Holy shit Y/N, I knew you were clumsy but I didn’t know you were that clumsy!” Steve wiped a tear from the corner of his eyes. “Can’t believe I missed those moments with you.”

“Nah,” you brushed him off, “Don’t beat yourself up for it. It’s okay.”

The car grew silent as you told Steve to take a right.

“Y/N, where are you taking me?”

“You’ll find out, Harrington.” You flashed him a mischievous smile.

Soon enough, you and Steve found yourselves at the Quarry. You told Steve to stop and park here. No other cars were present so you parked in the middle of the road

“Why are we here again?” Steve asked. He turned the engine off, but the radio still played a low hum in the silence of the night.

11:18 PM

You hopped outside of the car, with your bag of necessities on your shoulder. You stopped in front of the car and pulled out a box of sparklers and a Polaroid camera. Steve was in front of you, with his hands on his hips, looking down at you.

“C’mon let’s light these babies up.” You waved the box at him. You got a few sticks out and handed them to him. You pulled out a matchbox from your pocket and lit the ones he was holding up.

“There. Now do a pose, and I’ll take a picture of you.” You grabbed your camera and got ready.

“Is this really necessary?” Steve held the two sparklers awkwardly beside him.

“Yes, Steve! It’s been a long time since we’ve taken photos, so just shut up and pose!” You peered through the viewfinder of the camera and waited for Steve. Steve forced a big and awkward smile on his face and you took the shot. “Okay now take my photo.”

This went on for a couple more pictures, you and Steve making weird and funny faces. You even took a few pictures together. You held the pictures out to Steve.

“Here, pick a few. Your copies.” Steve thought for a moment and chose four pictures; one of him, two of you and one with the both of you.

“Thanks, Y/N.”

You smiled at him and pocketed the rest of the pictures. You were now sitting on top of his car hood, looking out over the cliff. The faint sounds of distant fireworks and the radio were the only sounds you could hear; the soft breeze humming along.

“You know,” you sat up straighter, “I used to come here when you left me for your shitty friends.” Steve looked at you, his eyebrows knotted together. “I hated you that time. And I was so frustrated. So, I came here to the quarry and screamed until I was okay again.” Steve was quiet as he looked away.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled.

“Stop apologizing. It’s okay.” You put a hand on his arm and smiled softly. “Why don’t you try it?”

“What?”

“I know you’re hurt about Nancy. And I know you act all tough but I know you, Steve. I’m not your best friend for nothing.” Steve hesitated. He didn’t exactly know what to scream. He doesn’t want to curse out Nancy, god knows he doesn’t. Noticing his lack of response, you bit your lip before cupping your hands around your mouth and screaming,

“HEY! I’M BEST FRIENDS WITH THE KING OF HAWKINS HIGH AGAIN!”

His eyes grew wide at your actions. He stared at you but you continued to smile.

“C’mon Steve!” You took a deep breath and shouted once more, “WOOH!” Your voice echoed out into the air. After a while, you heard Steve take a breath and finally let everything go.

“I LOVED YOU NANCY WHEELER!” You flinched slightly. You didn’t expect that from him. “I LOVED YOU NANCY BUT IT’S OKAY! YOU DESERVE SOMEONE BETTER!”

“YOU DESERVE SOMEONE BETTER TOO STEVE HARRINGTON!” You shouted. Steve look at you abruptly. His chest going up and down, trying to catch his breath. “You do deserve someone better too Steve. I mean, yeah sure Nancy was great but I guess she just didn’t see how much you’d change since loving her. There’s someone who will appreciate that Steve. You just gotta look harder.”

Steve grew silent once again. He thought about what you said because all this time, he had thought he was a shitty boyfriend to Nancy. Maybe he was in a way. But then, maybe he was also good in his own way. Maybe their timing just wasn’t right or maybe him and Nancy just weren’t right for one another.

“Y/N, thank you.” He said quietly. You beamed up at him and punched his shoulder. “Seriously, thank you. For today, for being with me this New Year’s Eve. For putting up with my shit for years.”

“I don’t know how much longer I can take your shit.” You joked. He laughed and nudged your shoulder with his.

11:58PM

You perked up when you heard Ella Fitzgerald start to sing on Steve’s radio. You jumped up from his car hood and put out your hands to him. He gave you a quizzical looked, silently asking what you were up to again.

“Just get up Steve and dance with me!” You egged him on. He slowly took your hand and with force, you pulled him up to stand in front of you. You reached out through the car window to put the volume on full blast. You turned back to Steve and let out a breath.

Slowly, you wrapped an arm around his shoulder and held his hand out with the other one. Instinctively, he put an arm around your waist. You started to slowly sway the two of you, going around in a circle. You felt Steve follow you awkwardly and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“Steve, loosen up a little! Remember when I helped you learn how to dance so you can ask Sarah to the dance during 7th grade? ” He laughed at the memory and shook his shoulders loose. He looked down at you, giving you a heart-warming smile that you couldn’t help but blush at. You felt your heart beat loudly against your chest and prayed to the gods that he didn’t feel it. You leaned closer to him and pressed your cheek against his shoulder; he pressed his cheek to your ear. You both continued to sway slowly until the song was done and another came on.

The distant booms of the fireworks were a bit louder now as the clock had already struck twelve. Never moving from the position you were in, you greeted Steve a happy New Year.

“Happy New Year, Y/N.” He whispered and continued to slow dance with you.

You didn’t know if he intended for you to notice but he held you just a tad bit tighter, giving the side of your head a feather-light kiss. You smiled widely and held on to him tighter too.

Aah, but in case I stand one little chance Here comes the jackpot question in advance What are you doing New Year’s New Year’s Eve?

—

Posted: December 30, 2017

#stranger things #stranger things 2 #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #joe keery #joe keery x reader #joe keery imagine #b writes

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