#so aggressive with her making me feel better

[ratgrinders]

anyways ivy embra post because on god if she wont get the scenes in canon ill imagine it myself

Ivy and Oisin were friends in middle school. Oisin was still scrawny and hadn't had his growth spurt yet and Ivy hadn't yet gotten her braces taken off. They meet each other in some group project or club or whatever, the setting doesn't matter, but what happens is you have these two children with the inherent shittiness of middle schoolers who maybe haven't had the easiest time making friends because their passive aggressiveness is too aggressive, their barbs not hidden. And they act the same way with this new, kind of nerdy looking stranger they meet and find a kindred spirit. All of a sudden you're 12/13 years old with an outlet for all the shittalking about your classmates you want. You stick together like glue, it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks of you two because they all fuckin suck anyway, and you finally found someone who isn't a wuss and can give as good as they take.

Oisin gets better at hiding it though, being raised by a long family line of evil dragons who have had to hide their connections in plain sight will do that to you. Ivy never lost that edge around her though.

The first day of classes Freshman Year at the Aguefort Adventuring Academy, Oisin's met with this group of randos, they seem competent enough, the tall sad one seems nice enough if a bit of a pushover and the small one with the ponytail seems to have her entire academic career planned out already. She's intent on the name the High Five Heroes, it's a pun, get it? Because there's five of them. But Oisin won't go anywhere without his best friend. He pulls Ivy over, and Ivy isn't having the best luck finding a party (she insults them saying why would she want to join a party with any of these losers anyway, when they're put off by one pointed comment too many). Oisin tells the others they could do well with a fighter, that they're sticking together. The tall one, the gnome, and the kobold don't seem to mind (or don't care), but the halfling seems to have swallowed a lemon. "Well, there's six of us now which throws off the entire point of the name, but that's fine! I don't care!" (she's stubborn and doesn't want to change it).

Ivy and Kipperlilly clash CONSTANTLY. Kipperlilly's specific brand of Type A nerdiness and uptightness clashes horrifically with Ivy's specific attitude of not giving a fuck and chronic need to get under people's skin. And yet, Kipperlilly's barely concealed rage and passive aggression leads that same realization Ivy had back in middle school, of having finally found a kindred spirit. If there's two things Kipperlilly and Ivy have in common, it's their initial impression driving most people away, and their need to externalize this jealousy and bad feelings as hatred and disdain for others. They LOVE gossiping. Ivy's always down to be a hater.

Corsica Jones, the fighter teacher, sees Ivy come in on the first day of classes, bow in hand, and is immediately reminded of the sister she lost, who is still missing. Every time she trains Ivy on her stance, on basic hand-to-hand, she's reminded of the times she taught her sister the very same things. She's worried, because Ivy always seems so closed off and not very engaged, so full of rage. Unfortunately Corsica's attempts to reach out and forge a connection are stopped in their infancy when instead the barbarian teacher takes an interest in her. "Well, at least she has support from someone on the faculty, even if it isn't me."

It's Oisin that kills her. They always go off as a pair anyway, and Oisin may have been acting off recently but who is she to judge a bit of anger. But a quick stab to the back, one Choice later, and all Ivy can think about is rage.

After the Mountains of Chaos, Ivy's disdain becomes Venomous. Suddenly its not fun gossip but outright Hatred, its saying words maximized for cruelty directly to the person's face, because there's a kind of sick vindication in hurting the people who rejected you for so long, even if they may not deserve it. She and Kipperlilly don't get along anymore, snide comments and petty jabs devolving into screaming matches and insults. She proposes the name Rat Grinders with Oisin, because her stubbornness at refusing to change the name isn't endearing anymore, and there are six of them, did you oppose me joining the party that badly? It's a bit funny to see her so worked up over a stupid party name, that kind of earnest childish straightforwardness of the High Five Heroes makes her gag. The Rat Grinders is a funny inside joke, and Ivy is not comfortable engaging anymore without that layer of irony. For some reason, it doesn't feel good in the same way to hurt Kipperlilly like this, it just leave a knot of frustration that rankles in her stomach, because why does she care so much??

When Lucy dies, she doesn't remember much. She remembers the realization at the choice she'd made, and the rage that followed. Afterwards, though, was a deep all consuming bitterness. Of course she wasn't coming back, little miss goody two shoes never had any intentions of following through and left the rest of us with the fallout. She never expected otherwise, and she refuses to mourn someone who did not give enough of a shit about them to come back. She doesn't think about how Lucy helped her bleach her hair, how she braided Lucy's in return. How Lucy's birthday was coming up and she bought her new clothes, how that bag will stay unopened in her room now.

When she dies on the floor of her high school gymnasium, desperately defending every callous insult she's made with her dying breath, her last moments are spent locking eyes with her best friend, who is looking on in horror. She thinks back to a similar scenario, last year, when that same friend saw her dying and did nothing. She thinks back to them in seventh grade, trading childish insults without any real weight. And then she doesn't think anything at all.

[rosetterer]

How about Buck taking care of a sick or injured Tommy? 🥹

Hi anon! I didn't edit or even read through what I wrote so I hope it makes some kind of sense, lol. Also, apparently, my thought of a short little story is almost 2000 words so... here you go:

The last time Buck was at the hospital had for once been for a good reason: his sister’s wedding. The memory of getting to kiss Tommy in front of strangers without a care in the world was a good addition to the day that Buck definitely thought about every once in a while. Well, actually, Tommy, in one way or another, was constantly on his mind these days.

He just wished that he could’ve kept thinking about their dates that had happened, some better than others, and the ones that were to happen in the future. Instead, his mind was filled with worry, and yet, still Tommy.

He knew, better than anyone, that being the partner of a firefighter could be stressful. Not everyone could handle it.

And now, as he was rushing around the hallways, trying to find the room number he’d been told over the phone, he understood. He wasn’t sure if he could handle this.

”Wait, wait, wait,” a nurse, much shorter than him, stepped in between him and the door that Tommy was supposed to be behind.

”My boyfriend’s in there!” He huffed out, a little more loud and aggressive than he meant to sound.

”Are you Evan?” The nurse asked then, her voice softening.

”Yeah,” he breathed out.

”Well, go on in then. He’s been talking a lot about you,” the nurse said, now smiling, and opened the door for him.

They hadn’t told him details of what had happened but the words ’Tommy’, ’injured’ and ’hospital’ had made him panic and leave his shift early. But Tommy, apparently, was talking and as Buck stepped into the room, he could see that he was also sitting there, chatting with another nurse, and most importantly, he was still breathing.

”Tommy,” Buck gasped out his name and hurried to stand next to his bed.

His hands hovered over Tommy’s shoulders, his chest, and he didn’t know where he could touch him without hurting him. The nurse was placing some kind of bandage on his leg and there were bloodied tissues thrown off to the side.

”What happened? D- Did the helicopter go down?” Buck asked, hearing and feeling the way his voice trembled. ”Or we-were you on the ground? Did you-”

”Evan,” Tommy interrupted him, taking his hands into his. ”I’m okay.”

”You’re in a hospital,” Buck reminded him. ”Do you have a concussion? Do you-”

”Tell him that I’m alright, please,” Tommy asked the nurse, his voice a little raspy now that Buck really focused on it. There was some soot on his face.

”No concussion,” the nurse told him, standing up straight now that the bandage was on. ”But twelve stitches is no joke.”

”Twelve?” Buck asked, genuinely shocked. ”How-”

”Baby,” Tommy interrupted him once again. ”I promise I will tell you all about it once I’ve gotten some rest, alright? I’m exhausted.”

Right. He’d been on a 24-hour shift.

Buck tried his best to pull himself together and cleared his throat, ”Right. Right… Well, can we leave? You’re coming to stay at my place.”

”Evan, you don’t have to-”

”Actually, I’m coming over to your place. The loft has stairs and I doubt it’ll be easy for you to climb them with your leg like that,” Buck wondered out loud, completely ignoring Tommy’s reply to him. ”I don’t have a shift tomorrow and I doubt you’ll be going back to work for at least a few days or until those stitches come off, so-”

”Evan, I’m fine,” Tommy told him once more. ”You don’t have to worry about me.”

”I’ll go get your discharge papers,” the nurse commented quickly before Buck could reply and slipped out of the room.

”You are not fine,” Buck huffed out, sitting on the edge of the bed. ”And you don’t need to pretend like you are, babe. Injuries suck. I would know.”

”Yeah,” Tommy said with a dry chuckle. ”But I swear, it doesn’t hurt much and they told me that I’m allowed to walk normally as long as I’m careful, so I can take care of myself, you don’t have to-”

”I want to,” Buck whispered to him, finally daring to touch Tommy’s shoulder. ”I want to take care of you. I want to come home with you and I want to make sure you have everything you need. You scared me.”

That seemed to finally make Tommy speechless. He looked at Buck for a while and Buck desperately wanted to ask him what he was thinking about but decided to wait instead.

”Okay,” Tommy said eventually.

”Okay,” Buck sighed, relieved.

”I didn’t mean to scare you,” Tommy continued then, resting their foreheads together.

Buck shook his head, ”Not your fault. This is what our job is like. As long as you just keep being as careful as possible, I’ll… I’ll be able to handle it.”

”Right back at you,” Tommy said with a small smile.

Buck pressed their lips together for a short moment.

Tommy was lying on his couch with his leg propped up by pillows that Buck had gathered from around the house. Buck had made a quick meal of the ingredients he’d found in Tommy’s fridge, which often was chicken and vegetables, and that was no different today.

And now, he was just staring.

Tommy had been napping on and off for the past three hours they had been at home. Buck kept his distance, not wanting to disturb his sleep any more than it seemed to be disturbed by his dreams already.

And it was only when he woke up with a gasp more violent than before, Buck finally rushed over to his side. He ran his hands through the curls that had appeared after the very interesting shower session they’d had (nothing sexy, just difficult because of his leg injury) and hushed him.

”It’s okay, you’re at home,” he whispered to Tommy, who was now blinking up at him. ”I’m here.”

Tommy took hold of his free hand, squeezing it so tightly that it almost hurt. He licked his dry lips and swallowed, before resting his head back against his pillow, taking in a deep breath.

”Christ,” he mumbled under his breath.

Buck kept gently scratching his scalp with the tips of his fingers, ”You’re okay, it was just a nightmare. I’m here.”

”Thank God for that,” Tommy whispered to him, somehow holding onto his hand even tighter.

”What did you dream about?” Buck asked once Tommy’s breathing seemed to be under control.

”Today,” Tommy replied, shaking his head a little. ”The call we got was horrible.”

”I’m sorry,” Buck whispered, dropping his hand to Tommy’s neck and rubbing the warm skin there.

”We were called to assist because we were nearby, even though they didn’t air support,” Tommy explained to him. ”Some kid had set the school on fire and with the way the building looked, I doubt it was up to any kind of code. It was like a piece of paper, just burning away.”

Buck nodded, listening.

”There was a spot where the fire was at its worst. Obviously, we started from there,” Tommy continued. ”We went in. There were a lot of kids still stuck inside and we just… We had to get them out. The hallways were confusing… The fire seemed to be everywhere. And the screaming…”

Buck sighed, now gripping Tommy’s hand back, just as tightly.

”The floor gave in, me and two other firefighters went down with it. None of the kids did, thank God,” he said. ”The next thing I remember is being carried out of the building. I don’t think I even hit my head that hard, I mean, I don’t even have a concussion, but… I don’t know if it was just the shock that made me black out for a moment.”

”And what happened to your leg?” Buck asked softly.

”I’m not sure…” Tommy replied. ”Something sharp must have sliced it on the way down. I don’t remember being in pain. Not until I was in the ambulance anyway…”

Buck nodded, ”I was so scared when they called me.”

”I’m sor-”

”No,” Buck stopped him immediately, placing a finger against Tommy’s lips, ”I don’t want you to apologize for getting hurt. I want to know when these things happen and I want you to tell me about them because… I know what it’s like to suffer through these things alone. To keep those thoughts inside your head. I don’t want that for you. You don’t have to do that. Not with me.”

The smallest of smiles spread on Tommy’s lips. He tilted his head a little.

”Noted,” he said, bringing his hand to rest against Buck’s cheek. ”Thank you, baby.”

Buck kissed his palm.

”Do you often get nightmares after something like this happens?”

”Not really, no,” Tommy told him, sounding genuine. ”In my nightmare, you were there. Don’t get me wrong, the whole call was horrible, especially because kids were involved but… In my nightmare, you were there and went down as well and I couldn’t find you-”

He paused to take in another deep breath.

”Hey,” Buck whispered, leaning closer. ”I’m right here.”

”I know,” Tommy said, now looking at him intensely, the way that he often did when he wanted to make sure Buck was truly hearing him. ”The thought of losing you… Terrifies me, Evan. When I met you for the first time, I- I thought you were cute but I couldn’t have realized how much you’d end up meaning to me.”

”You mean a lot to me too,” Buck told him. ”And the thought of losing you terrifies me as well but I guess that’s- that’s the price that we’re going to have to pay for doing what we do and being together. I’m willing to live with that. Are you?”

Tommy nodded, ”Of course, Evan. Of course.”

”Good,” Buck said with a small smile, trying his best to ignore his eyes welling up just the smallest amount. ”Because you’re not getting rid of me. I am not going anywhere, Tommy, and even if the damn universe tries to take me away from you, I won’t let it.”

”That is… a lot,” Tommy chuckled gently.

”It’s the truth,” Buck whispered and pressed their lips together.

He allowed himself to linger, knowing that no one would interrupt them.

”Now rest up. I’ll heat up some food and when you’re feeling like it, we’re going grocery shopping. I know you’re all about working out and all that but I will not have my boyfriend only eating chicken and vegetables,” Buck rambled to him as he got up from his seat and started making his way toward the kitchen.

He turned to look back at him before stepping into the kitchen and found Tommy looking right back at him.

Buck smiled, ”I love you.”

And Tommy smiled right back. ”I love you too, Ev.”

They would be just fine.

[nunalastor]

Appleradio Secret Marriage au part 7:

(A small thanks to an0nym0use018 for the reblogs and likes, although I would like it if you told me your feelings about the whole au so I can improve it better!)

Niffty knew about it, since she was the first person Alastor told about his crush on The King of Hell aka. The biggest bad boy ever. She liked the fact that he trusted her enough to tell her before he even thought of speaking to Rosie about it but she didn't like that The King of Hell was hogging all of Alastor's attention from her in a way they barely spent any time together.

Her aggression towards The King of Hell had escalated to a point both Alastor and Charlie agreed to make them do bonding exercises together despite how Alastor liked being paired with Lucifer and so for this time he'd settled for pairing with Husk who – suspiciously – liked this pairing.

But Niffty could care less about what Husk thought about this, she already knew he harboured some sort of feelings towards Alastor which wasn't hate but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. It resembled the way her old husband would want to possess her, own her like a doll made for cleaning which could be replaced when broken but it was also different than that – more primal, in a way.

And although Niffty wasn't one to care about what Husk felt, this was different. Because these feelings were directed towards Alastor, the one person who'd stepped up to the job of being her mother figure and looked after her – she didn't even care that he owned her soul because she knew he didn't have bad intentions. She wasn't good with seeing what people felt, but she could certainly see their intentions. It was why she let Lucifer stealing Alastor's attention slide for the most part.

The trust exercise, anyway, consisted of physical touch and affection. You'd have to compliment and hug the other person each hour of the day and if you didn't do this then Charlie – and Alastor – would be disappointed. It wasn't much of a punishment, but considering the fact that Alastor wanted them to get along, it meant a lot.

So the whole day was awkward hugs between Lucifer and Niffty, and compliments which were shallower than a puddle – an example, "You're strong". They made an effort to follow the rules but do as less as possible while making sure their dislike for each other was apparent.

It didn't help that Alastor was including Niffty in their little family – he would make sure to treat Niffty as his own daughter in front of Lucifer to make his point clear. Lucifer didn't like it, but Niffty was now clearly his stepdaughter in some right.

Time passed and they never got closer than friends, but they did stop hating each other – which was lucky, since if they'd continue hating each other it would end with Alastor having to choose between the two.

One of the deciding moments when Lucifer stopped hating Niffty, and even began to like her a bit – which he would never admit – was when she'd stabbed Adam. She mainly acted as if it was because Charlie told her to stab angels with the dagger she'd been given but it was truly because she saw Alastor being hurt by the first man; which in turn made her plan on killing the angel. Lucifer also knew about Alastor's being hurt, but was less knowledgeable and planned on just hurting Adam – it wasn't that he didn't care for Alastor enough, it was that he wanted to save Adam for Alastor later on.

Niffty didn't really like Lucifer, but that was slowly changing since Lucifer began to make an effort to allow her to spend more time with Alastor. And therefore, the daughter began to be able to spend more time with her mother – Alastor – and sometimes Lucifer included.

Husk was never included though. He was always going to stay as the bartender whose soul was owned by Alastor.

Niffty liked things the way they were.

(I don't like how most people make Niffty stupid, and that her only quality is killing Adam which most people hate on her for so I tried to make her smarter, while giving her a backstory and her own abilities.)

(Clarification with Niffty, she never had a mother nor father figure in life and was forced to grow up quickly, which didn't help since when she got married to a manipulative, abusive misogynist things got worse. And even moreso when she'd sometimes act like a child, refusing to listen to him or do as he says. In the end she killed him and lived under complete age regression before taking her own life a few years later. That was why she usually resembled a child in hell, it was an embodiment of her age regression which she accepts with open arms. When she met Alastor she also saw the motherly tendencies in him which he'd picked up from his mother, and it caused Niffty to quickly warm up to him. They are both familial, Niffty because she wants to keep the family she'd never got to have before and Alastor because he believes family is everything. He usually locks his abusive father out his memories though.)

(Damn my backstory for Niffty is deep.)

~☆

👀

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Hi!!! I love your Amelia and Emily fics so much, I’ve basically binged them 😂 I was wondering if I could request an Amelia x reader fic where maybe reader is like 6 months pregnant with her and Amelia’s first child and has a bad history with her dad and her dad comes into the hospital with his new wife and her kid and it just stirs bad feelings for reader and Amelia comforts her? Maybe autistic reader? Thank you so much!

Thank you so much! 💕 I'm so, so glad you enjoy them! Also, thanks especially for an autistic!reader request, they're some of my favorites to write! Hope you enjoy! – illdowhatiwantthanks

The R Word

Amelia Shepherd x fem!autistic!reader Warnings: autism struggles, ableism, use of ableist slurs, overstimulation (the autism kind, not the sex kind), explicit language, pregnancy times (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: It's a typical day working with a child in the ER when your estranged father shows up and makes you feel just as small and stupid and alien as he did when you were growing up. Amelia is there to comfort you and remind you of who you really are.

“No, Mommy!” the little girl wailed as she writhed on the hospital bed. “I want to go home!”

Her mom looked at you apologetically as she tried to soothe her child. You needed to get her vitals. Based on the mom’s description, you also probably needed to get IV fluids and an antiemetic in her. But you knew that wasn’t going to happen while the kid felt scared and overwhelmed. This wasn’t your first rodeo with kids in the ER. In fact, the other ER nurses often called you over when kids were difficult to work with. They called you the “bad kid whisperer.”

You knew better. They weren’t bad kids. They were usually just scared. There was a lot to be scared of at a hospital. And you were good with them because you understood better than most what it was like for your body and brain to feel so overwhelmed that you could no longer regulate your emotions. Being autistic was hard sometimes, it made you stand out, but this was a place where it made you stand out in a good way.

You lifted your hands to show the little girl that you were setting down all your medical instruments.

“It’s okay,” you said quietly, pulling the curtain closed around the bed. Sometimes making the space smaller helped. You bent down to her height, careful to keep your distance and not to touch her.

“I’m Y/N,” you said. “What’s your name?”

The girl didn’t answer, shaking as she sobbed.

You nodded. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk right now. Do you feel like you can’t breathe or anything?”

The girl shook her head.

“Good. Then all this other stuff can wait, okay? I’m not gonna touch you. No needles, no thermometer, no heartbeat or anything until you feel a little calmer. We can wait.”

She seemed to calm down a bit when she realized you weren’t going to make her do anything, her sobs subsiding to the occasionally aggressive sniffle.

“Here,” you offered, pulling a tiny tech deck skateboard out of the pocket of your scrubs. “Sometimes when I’m scared or nervous, having something to do with my hands makes me feel better.” You rolled the skateboard toward her, and she started running it across the rails of the hospital bed, her breathing starting to calm.

“Better?” you asked.

She nodded.

You started taking her vitals and continued the conversation. “You think you can tell me your name now?”

“Maddy,” she whispered.

You smiled even as you read her temperature: 103.4. Pretty high. She was almost certainly dehydrated. “That’s a really cool name. Now, do you know why your mom brought you here?”

“I threw up,” she told you, lip quivering.

“Oh, man,” you commiserated. “That’s the worst. I hate throwing up.”

Maddy nodded.

“Did you throw up just one time or a lot of times?”

“A lot.”

You exchanged glances with the mom to make sure this information was accurate.

“She can’t keep anything down,” the mom worried, biting her nails.

“Okay. Well, that’s okay. We’re gonna help you feel better. First, we’re gonna get some fluids in you. Do you know what that means?”

She shook her head as you gathered the supplies and pulled on gloves.

“It means your tummy is so sick that when you drink water, it all just comes right back out. And that’s not good because your body needs water. Your heart and your lungs and all the things that make you healthy and strong, they need water. So since you can’t swallow it, we’re gonna put a little tube in your arm and send water through the tube. That way your body gets the water it needs. And we’ll send medicine and electrolytes and all kinds of other good stuff to fight the sickness, too. It’s like we’re sneaking weapons past the sick.”

This explanation seemed to cheer her up a bit. “Like a secret mission?” she asked.

You nodded conspiratorially. “Exactly like a secret mission. But to get all that good stuff in there, we’re gonna have to put a needle in your arm. Just for a second! It makes the path for the supplies to go in.”

Maddy seemed to think deeply about this, then nodded. You had her play with the skateboard while you placed the IV line, ensuring that she was comfortably positioned for a good hour or so of fluid intake.

“Thank you,” her mom mouthed to you, and you gave her a quick thumbs up before adding a few reminders to your chart–what to check in the next hour, etc.

Maddy, now calmer, took a good look at you for the first time, from your glasses to your fingers that twitched by your ears, to your stomach that protruded out past your waistline–you were six months pregnant.

“Why are you so fat?” Maddy blurted out.

“Madeline Grace!” her mom hissed.

“It’s okay,” you laughed. “My tummy looks like this because there’s a baby in there. But some tummies are just bigger than others, too, and that’s okay. All tummies are good tummies.”

“Where’s the daddy?” she asked, reaching out to brush her hand over your stomach.

“No daddy,” you explained. “This baby has two mommies. His other mommy works upstairs. On brains.”

“Brains!?” she squealed.

You nodded. “Yeah. She’s pretty cool.”

Just then, the relative calm of a midday ER was interrupted by a loud, brash voice, bursting through the doors, yelling at the nurses at the station.

“Where the fuck is my daughter!? Middle of the fucking work day. Unbelievable. Am I going too fast for you? Read my lips, sweetheart. Madeline. Y/L/N.”

You froze, any icy stream of panic running from the back of your neck all the way down to your heels. You’d know that voice anywhere. It was an angry voice, a coach’s voice, the voice that had yelled at you to “stay the fuck in the bleachers” when all you wanted was to sit in the car and breathe. The same voice that growled at you to stop “doing that shit with your hands, you look like a r*tard.” The same voice that told you over and over that you weren’t “stupid enough to be on the short bus,” but you were “too stupid to function in real life.”

You felt your brain start swirling, felt panic building in your chest. You knew he’d gotten remarried, of course you knew. But you didn’t talk to him, hadn’t talked to him in nearly a decade. You knew they’d had a kid, but you didn’t know it was this kid.

All the ER noises, the beeps of the machines, the buzzing of the overhead lights–were they getting brighter?–the clang of instruments being set down, wails, conversations, and above it all your dad’s voice. Your dad’s voice. It was too much. It was all way, way too much.

You felt your hands start to shake at your sides, your body swinging back and forth, and you had to stop. You had to stop. Your dad would kill you.

He threw back the curtain, and his jaw dropped when he saw you.

“You!?” he spat, looking down. “Are you pregnant!?”

Maddy seemed oblivious to the tension. “Daddy!” she called. “Her name is Y/N and she gave me this little skateboard and the water is fighting the sickness through my tubes and she has a baby in her tummy and the baby’s other mommy fixes brains.”

You tried so hard not to stim, but it was not working. 

“Don’t tell me you’re a nurse?! God, it’s a miracle you didn’t fucking stab her. You shouldn’t be holding any needles with those flappy arms. Probably shouldn’t be holding any babies either.” He shot out his hand and grabbed Teddy’s arm, which was wild to you. The audacity of the man to assume he had the authority to bother the trauma surgeon. “Yeah, honey, we need a different nurse over here. This one’s a r*tard.”

Teddy looked flabbergasted and deeply offended, but also concerned, as you clenched your teeth, hugging yourself, twisting your body back and forth. “It’s doctor, sir, and that word is not welcome at Grey-Sloan. Y/N is a perfectly capable medical professional. In fact, she’s one of our best, especially with kids.”

“I don’t know if you know this, but I feel like it’s my responsibility to tell you,” your dad whispered loudly to Teddy. “She’s got autism. She shouldn’t be handling tools or people or anything.”

Teddy pressed her lips together in frustration. “As I said, sir,” she repeated more forcefully. “Y/N is a perfectly capable medical professional, and we’re lucky to have her. But I’ll get another nurse over here for you. Y/N?”

Teddy beckoned you over, careful not to touch you, and led you to a quieter corner of the room.

“Who the fuck is that guy?!” she asked.

“M-my dad,” you stuttered. Everything in the room–sounds, lights, smells, all of it–seemed to be crashing over you again and again. As if you’d been knocked over by a wave and couldn’t get back up again because they just kept coming.

“You want to hang out in one of the on-call rooms for a bit?” Teddy suggested.

You nodded.

“Should I page Amelia?”

You shook your head. “She’s in surgery.”

Teddy pulled out her tablet to look. “I mean, we could just check.”

“Don’t bother her,” you repeated. “She’s got work to do. I’ll be okay.”

You made your way to the elevator and up to an on-call room, breathing heavily when you shut the door against the rest of the hospital. You turned off the lights, curling into a corner of the bottom bunk and pulling your knees up to your chest–or as close to your chest as they could get with your baby bump in the way.

You rocked yourself back and forth, thoughts spiraling. The movement and the dark usually calmed you down, but you were having a hard time regulating today, and nothing seemed to be working. Your breath just got faster and faster. And the fact that you couldn’t get yourself out of your spiral only made you spiral more.

You knew you were a good nurse. You knew that. You knew because you’d done it. But you hadn’t ever been a mom before. What if he was right? What if the baby made you overstimulated and you yelled or lashed out? What if the baby went to school and you went to parent nights and he was embarrassed of you, of how you couldn’t make eye contact and didn’t start conversations right and didn’t get the jokes. What if being autistic made you a bad mom?

You had tears streaming down your face by the time you heard a light knock on the door. It creaked open and Amelia’s head popped in. When she saw it was you, she quickly let herself in and locked the door.

“Oh, babe,” she said, watching your body rock back and forth in huge, aggressive sweeps. “A bad one, huh?”

“Go away, Amelia,” you hiccuped.

“Hey,” she said, jokingly. Then when she got closer and saw the tear tracks on your face, she said it again, quieter, sitting next to you on the bed. “Hey.”

When you didn’t say anything, Amelia shrugged. “Teddy said your… dad was here?”

You nodded.

She let out a deep breath, running a hand through her hair. “Honey, will you let me hold you? Please?”

You nodded.

“Alright,” she said, waiting for your body to line up with hers as you rocked, then quickly grabbing you up in her arms, like she was catching something midair. “Gotcha.” She rocked with you.

“What did he say?” she asked, her breath warm on the top of your head.

“That I shouldn’t hold medical tools or babies because I’m a fucking re– I don’t want to say it. I hate that word.”

You felt Amelia’s arms tighten around you, and her breath came out in huffs. She was very angry. “As you should,” she told you. “It’s a nasty word. And it’s a word that doesn’t describe you at all, you know that.”

“I don’t know, Amy,” you whispered into her chest. “What if he doesn’t like me?”

“Babe, I think that ship has sailed,” Amelia said, running her fingers through your hair.

“Not my dad,” you explained. “The baby.”

Amelia was quiet for a moment, then you felt her lips press against the top of your head.

“Oh, honey,” she said, her voice soft. “Of course he’ll like you. He’ll love you. You're his mom.”

“But what if I’m bad at it? What if autism makes me bad at it?”

“Y/N,” Amelia said, gently grabbing your face and positioning it so that you had to look in her general direction, if not in her eyes. “Look how good you are with the kids in the ER. You’re gonna be an incredible mom.”

“I’m just scared,” you admitted.

“I’m a little scared, too,” Amelia told you. “But you know what? I think we’re gonna be okay. Me and you together? I mean, surely, combined, we can be at least one whole good mom, right?”

You giggled.

Amelia grinned at you. “There she is.”

You were quiet for a moment, playing with Amelia’s finger, with the edges of her scrubs.

“You know what you are?” Amelia asked after a bit, kissing your forehead. “You are smart and kind and empathetic. You’re funny and brave and you work hard. You’re my favorite person in the whole world.”

You looked away.

“Hey,” she said, pulling your face back toward her again. “I don’t like people talking about my wife like that. Even you.”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around her waist and pressing your face to her chest.

“Are you going back down there?” Amelia asked.

You shrugged.

“Want me to check if your dad’s still here?”

“Would you?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said, standing and placing one more kiss on your cheek. “In fact, I’d really like to talk to him.”

“Don’t do anything that’ll get you fired, Amy,” you called after her.

She looked back at you and winked as she walked through the door. “Can’t make any promises.”

[gothicprep]

I know it’s sort of gauche to comment on how other people organize stuff like domestic division of labor in their marriages, but whenever social media shows me little vignettes of how other couples manage this stuff, I don’t know how to process it. the calculus obviously changes when you have children, but it’s the tone that weirds me out.

personally, I don’t see cooking as a chore. I like doing it. i like doing something sort of mindless when I’m stressed. and between my wife and me, I have significantly better knife skills than she does. so I’m much faster at it.

she’s like my opposite when it comes to deep-ish cleans. i personally find it unpleasant. she’ll just put her headphones on and rock out with her headphones on while she’s vacuuming and making sure the toilet isn’t radioactive. can’t relate, although it’s probably a similar feeling to what I get when I have a stressful day and go all o-ren ishii on an innocent onion.

stuff like “who puts the laundry away” is sort of circumstance dependent. depends on which one of us is more swamped with work related things.

I think many long term relationships have a similar vibe. but it’s the aggressively type-a stuff I find so off-putting. i get the overwhelming feeling that when you have this sort of rigidity in your partnership, it’s going to leave you ill-prepared for situations where your partner genuinely needs your help. it might be something like a nasty depressive episode. it might be something like a recovery period from a medical procedure, or god forbid, an illness. especially in the context of a marriage, you need to have the breathing room that allows you to adjust for these possibilities.

maybe I’m overthinking it, but stuff like this doesn’t translate to “happy marriage” to me. It’s more like watching the beginning phases of One of Those divorces where people are fighting over silverware and shit.

[mapofthemazeinthemirror]

I have been meaning to yap to you about this because I am a certified mafia jjun enjoyer but….listen!

two things: one (1) reader is hired by said mafia group to protect the leader (yeonjun) gosh I imagine like enemies to lovers? she hates yeonjun at first, and thinks he’s so so mean. At first he thinks “how is she going to protect me?” but she’s protecting him more than physically. he eventually eases up on her and ends up being mean to everyone but her. gahhh something about meanie jjunie that has a soft spot gets me.

two (2) this might be quick but reader and mafia boss tyun being from rival families, but they cross paths and end up falling for each other. aaaah forbidden romance <3

ASH I LOVE YOUR MIND. Thank you for feeding me with this. I’ve been craving gang txt ever since the new gbgb choreo, the part where it looks like they’re fighting 🫢 Number two (2) with Taehyun is so yummy, just imagine the banter they'd have with each other!

words: 1.8k oops

warnings: a bit of workplace discrimination, mentions of attacks, criminal activity, blood briefly, treating wounds, probably too soft at the end

If there’s one thing you’re going to do, it’s do your job damn well regardless of your personal feelings towards the man you’ve been hired to protect – and especially if said man seems to think you’re not fit for the job. It appeared Yeonjun was not pleased when you first showed up to work, pulling a member of his team aside and having what looked like a tense conversation. It only made you more intent on proving your position. You often butted heads, unable to agree on the right approach to many things. Yeonjun prioritized quick gains, confrontations and aggressive plays, recurrently willing to forgo his security or the safety of the more expendable members of his organisation to get what he was after. On the other hand, you wanted him to undertake less risky tactics, ones that were better for his reputation, his long-term safety. There were a couple of instances where he tried to plan some dealings without you, locking you out of his office and leaving you to stand outside fuming and trying to hear what little of the discussion you could through the crack in the door. The men took you even less seriously after that stunt – if the boss didn’t respect you, why should they?

Using your intel, you cleverly plan out routes for the driver to take that steer clear of trouble. At first Yeonjun is annoyed and questions the detour, but later that night, he learns through his informant that police were doing a random car check on the usual route, due to the crimes of a gang in the area. When he thanks you the following morning, you think you've earned the respect you've been craving. However, the good feeling doesn't last. As the day goes on, not only does Yeonjun give you his drink order, as if you're a simple assistant or coffee runner, he also laughs at a joke one of his men makes about you, right in front of you.

And maybe from time to time you fantasize about the young, stupidly good looking, ridiculously well dressed mafia boss getting what he deserved; about letting his laundering fall through, letting his shipment go to the wrong country, or turning a blind eye to the betrayal of one of his most valuable men that you have discovered. But you're a professional, and professionals don't let their sour thoughts derail their career.

It's only when the truth about the disloyalty of Yeonjun's right hand man is laid out for him that things begin to change. You had supplied all the proof, having hired a private investigator of sorts to get the incriminating photos you needed, accumulating dirt on the man who was Yeonjun's favourite, his oldest friend in the business, until there was no room for doubt in his mind.

What you hadn't expected was for the boss to show up at your place a few days after your exposé, looking more exhausted than you'd ever seen him. The betrayal had hit him hard. He seemed despondent as he glanced around at the place you lived, showing no reflection of his opinion. You weren't even sure how much he was taking in with those tired dark eyes. His hair was not to his usual standard, and his coat which was usually tied fashionably at his waist hung open and loose on his thin frame. You felt more awkward standing before him in this state than you ever had when he'd been laughing at your expense. You offered him a seat but he turned it down. All you could do was stare and wait for him to speak.

“I'm very grateful,” he began. His voice was hoarse, bringing a deepness to it you'd never known. Finally he looked you straight in the eye for the first time since he'd arrived. “I never would have seen it for myself. I was blinded by my… If you hadn't disclosed this to me…” It was the first time you'd seen him struggle to articulate himself. You nodded in understanding, and he seemed relieved.

After that, you were given a raise – a silent one, since he applied it without saying anything to you about it – and an office of your own. Not only did the jokes and snide comments from the other men stop, but they seemed to eye you with caution, some with reverence. You had become the one Yeonjun trusted most, the one he came to with his concerns, and nobody would ever question your value again. Not unless they wanted to face the boss's fury.

Things have been good for a while: you love your job – and maybe, as much as you hate to admit it, your boss, just a little bit? – when something unforeseeable happens. You're busy handling communications when you spot Yeonjun's ride pull up in the underground lot on the security monitor. Watching as the two front doors of the vehicle swing open and both the driver and the ridealong dash to open the back doors, your anxiety is thrown into gear. Then Yeonjun stumbles out from the back seat. You're on your feet before you see them check him over, out the door before he can wave them off.

By the time he's in the building, there are more men around him, asking questions and putting their hands on his shoulders in concern. He shakes them all off in annoyance, ordering them to get back to work. As the men fall away he spots you standing by, and he softens. When he approaches, you see the sharp red lines that are scratched into the side of his face, notice the bloody cuts on his hand as it sweeps his black hair up over his forehead.

“What happened?” you ask when he reaches you, even though you have a pretty good idea in your mind. You need to know anyway, as you keep a record of all offenses committed against him.

“It was an ambush,” he says simply. He watches your hands take his bigger ones from his sides and turn them over, inspecting. His hands suddenly feel cold in contrast to your warm skin as you make contact.

“Are you okay?” You glance briefly up to his eyes, indicating that your question does not refer to his obvious abrasions.

“That bullet proof glass might need a touch up,” he states rather matter-of-factly in reply, looking away from you. He sounds so nonchalant, as if it's not a big deal. Your heartbeat has picked up significantly, an unexpected reaction to hearing about danger that has already passed, and you realise that a threat to Yeonjun's safety means more to you than it should; more than a professional responsibility for his security.

You usher him into his office and locate the medical kit. This is the first time you'll be putting your first aid training to good use, you muse silently as you pull the lamp down close to Yeonjun's face. It's an intimate position you've found yourself in; Yeonjun seated on the large plush sofa while you hover above him, one knee on the seat of the sofa to steady yourself. You don't even register that your knee is between his spread legs, so focused on treating his injuries. You've never touched him before, and yet it feels like one of the most natural things you've ever done as you work instinctively, the fingers of your non-dominant hand along his cheek without your noticing. His warm eyes, which had seemed distant just a moment ago, check your face occasionally, until he abandons subtlety and they unabashedly train on you as you treat him, lit by the glow of the lamp. You try not to notice it, though you definitely do.

“I usually do this myself,” he says quietly as you reach for a new cloth and the bottle of disinfectant once more. The tug of a lazy smile appears on his mouth. “This is much better.”

Your eyes meet his, and all at once you feel much too warm. Now that you're not concentrating, you notice the placement of your knee, and your whole body seems to come alive. Retracting it as casually as possible, you hold your hand out to him, hoping your flushed state will go unnoticed. The feeling of his palm against yours sends sparks through you, making you feel like a stupid high schooler. He's still smiling, which makes it even harder to ignore. You suppose he's used to his life being threatened, used to targeted attacks, and that's how he's so calm after the ambush. Unless the starry look in his eyes speaks of an oncoming concussion.

He doesn't flinch once as you disinfect his scrapes and cuts. You're glad there's no glass to be picked out of the wounds. He watches everything you do quietly, and you find yourself having to remind yourself to breathe occasionally. It's new to be this close to him, and you don't hate it – not in the slightest. Most of his wounds are superficial, thanks to the bullet proof glass, and once you've applied coverings to the cuts on his hands, you're all finished. When you go to move the lamp away, you notice that his face has changed. He looks drained now, all his earlier charm and blasé attitude abandoned, maybe a little paler than usual even under the warm light, and you wonder if he's starting to feel the effects of the ordeal.

“I'll get you some water,” you tell him. Before you can move away, you feel his fingers softly grasp your hand. Your eyes come back to his face in surprise.

“Wait,” he says, a little weakly. His eyes are looking away from you, his brow quirked as though he's trying to figure something out. “I'm fine. Can you- can you just…”

There's only been one other time he's not been sure of his words before, and he'd been through something rough then, too. Something inside you begins to warm up and slowly melt as you realise that Yeonjun is not as unbothered on the inside as he plays on the outside. He may be tough, but he's not invincible. He may have had this kind of attack on his life before, he might even be used to it or expect it, but his body still undergoes the shock, even if it’s a delayed reaction.

His eyebrows are still slightly furrowed as he looks up at you. Without words and with the gentlest, smallest tug at your hand which you may not have noticed in another circumstance, which could probably have been played off as nothing if it had been rejected, he asks you to stay. You can't hide the smile that twitches at your lips. With something that feels like courage coursing through you, you step towards him. Turning slightly, you set yourself down on his lap and feel him relax. His arm winds around you to keep you snug to him and you lean your head onto his shoulder, getting a breath of expensive cologne. He sighs deeply before breathing evenly, dropping into a deep rest.

You're content like this, though you never imagined being this close to him, glad that he's resting when he clearly needs it, and proud that you could help. If this is how you can protect him physically, even if it's only in this small way, you'll take it. Though, in your head you've already begun thinking through methods of retaliation to whichever rival faction made this attempt on his life.

[x22817]

Me: experiencing low cortisol

Hekate: here's meds you need to stress dose!

Me: still not feeling well 🥴

Hekate: here's my favorite ✨️bone✨️ maybe that will help 🤔

Hekate: here's the 💖rope💖 that always makes me feel better😋maybe that will help🤔

Hekate: here's the ❤️ball♥️ maybe that'll help🤔

Me: okay, I feel better thank you😅 please no more

Bean: 🥰 you're welcome 🥰

[dol-dee]

🥇Winners of "Worst Couple in Town" competition<33🥇 Foxglove (pc) belongs to @getinthefuckingcarkitten

[sparring-spirals]

Bell's Hells, A Summary: Well, We're Pretty In Touch With Our Emotions, But Oh Boy, We're Not Very Good At Handling Them Once We Touch Them.

[intergalacticaquarium]

Reader visits Family Video practically every day, and tries to get service only from Robin, ignoring Steve 🥰

Hoooooo boy went a little overboard with this one but I really really really love it so much- maybe not exactly what you asked for but I hope you like it!

This Week at Family Video

Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington friendship (and character study) Robin Buckley x a girl who I guess is technically an oc

summary: A cute girl keeps coming into Family Video and Steve is determined to wingman his best friend Robin into a date with her, which turns into a deeper bonding moment when Steve realizes he's grown a lot but there's still room to go and Robin realizes that she's not as alone as she feels.

Content/warnings: Robin talks about how it feels to be closeted in the 80s so there are allusions to period typical homophobia and a quote from Steve from season one which is uncool. It's just like....an analysis of the friendship between the lesbian and the straight himbo and how there's a lot more to it than bonding over hot girls.

(Also I mention a couple movies in here and I have seen none of them so don't @ me)

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

9k words

Monday 

    It was an average day at the Family Video. People filtered in and out, a few of whom garnered some appraising, and, admittedly kind of objectifying glances from the two clerks that sat behind the central desk, who’s eyes would flash up as the bell ring, look at each other and make a subtle face to indicate whether or not the thought the girl that just came in was cute. 

Robin admits openly to feeling bad about this ritual, and Steve agreed that it was pretty sexist and they shouldn’t be collectively checking out chicks that came in and consulting on their hotness but at this point it was almost involuntary and hard to avoid when Steve all but lept over counters when a pretty girl walked in. Robin told him that she only did it now so she knew if she’d have to be working the sales desk for the next 2-8 minutes until he’d get rejected and come back to help but he didn’t buy it for a second.

The bell over the door rang and they glanced up to see a cute girl with intentionally messy hair, some oversized layers, and a bucket hat walk in casually. Steve and Robin both looked at each other with raised eyebrows just before Steve walked around the counter.

“Welcome to Family Video- anything I can help you find today?” Steve said, turning on his charm, regardless of how overzealous he was with it at times. “I’m Steve, and you are?” He said, sticking out a hand. The girl looked a little overwhelmed at the attention and laughed awkwardly.

“Uh, yeah I’m Leslie.  I’m just looking for a movie that nobody else seems to have.” She said with a laugh and a furtive glance at Robin, who prepared herself to step in quickly.

“Well, obviously we have a wide, wide selection of movies, what kind of things are you into? Tell me about yourself.” He said, leaning seductively against a shelf and knocking a few of the empty cases to the ground and picking them up while attempting to look like he hadn’t missed a beat. Robin couldn’t help but widen her eyes in mild horror at how poorly he was doing. Then her eye caught the girl’s, who met it with the same look that said holy shit, are you seeing this? Robin nodded and silently laughed as she watched the girl turn back to Steve’s attempted flirtation with an overly exaggerated interest and nodding that Robin delighted in seeing was entirely sarcastic.

“I’m actually looking for something pretty specific that I’ve been having a hard time finding.” She interrupted after the humor of the situation had worn off.

“Of course, yeah- what do you need?”

“A film called Hour of the Wolf?” she said nervously, and Robin’s ear perked up.

“OH, yeah I love that one- Michael J Fox as a basketball playing werewolf- who thinks of this stuff? I used to play basketball, you know. Didn’t need the wolf powers, though-”

“That's Teen Wolf, Steve.” Robin corrected from the counter, earning a grateful glance from the girl, who walked over to her quickly, and Steve threw his hands up and sighed.

“We don’t actually have Hour of the Wolf which is a shame because it really is a masterpiece.” Robin chimed in, pulling a thoughtful face

“I’ve been trying to get stupid Keith to get it but he says there isn’t enough demand. Shows what he knows.” Robin said, making Leslie smile and her own heart flutter at the sight. 

“Whoever Keith is sounds like he’s got quite the expert on his hands…” She said cheerfully.

“If you're into arthouse horror stuff though you should check out Eraserhead.” Robin suggested, and Leslie shrugged.

“Arthouse? Is that like a place, or..?” Steve asked, trying to stay in the conversation, but was largely ignored. 

“Sure. If you recommend it I’m sure it’s a winner...” She said, a little cheeky, glancing down at her nametag so obviously that for a second Robin thought this girl was checking out her rack in the middle of the store.”Robin.” She finished, saying her name clearly. 

 Robin thought that maybe for a second there she died and was resurrected, but it turned out to just be butterflies. She stuttered for a moment, telling her about the cinematography as she got her the movie and finished lending it. As she walked out Robin sighed, glancing at Steve.

“Once again, you blew it, Steve.. I really wish I still had the you suck board.” She said with a wry smile.

“Yeah…I know you do, Robin. I know you do.”

Tuesday

The next day at Family Video, Steve was peppering her with questions to Robin’s ire.

“Okay, explain one more time what an arthouse movie is?” He asked, and she rolled her eyes.

“Why do you want to know? You already blew your shot.” She criticized while put away the tapes.

“Alright, you don’t know that. And she’s not the only arty chick in the world. Maybe that’s why I haven’t had any luck lately.” He guessed lamely and Robin gave him a dead stare.

“You are telling me that the reason you can’t get a second date is because you haven’t met a girl that is artistic enough? You, Steve Harrington, want a girlfriend who’s primary interests are in arthouse cinema? Is that really what you’re saying to me?” Robin asked incredulously, stopping herself from laughing at the idea of Steve on a date with a moody poet who wanted his opinions on verse. Maybe she should help him if she’d get to hear about that. 

“Just give me another movie like that to recommend her if she comes back in.”

“I don’t know- Dr. Strangelove.” Robin pulled out of thin air. He was definitely about to ask more questions but at that moment the bell rang and there was the girl from yesterday.

She gave Robin a big smile and waved the tape in her hand as she walked over.

“Holy shit, Robin. Holy shit.” She said, putting both hands on the counter. She remembered my name, Robin thought giddily.

“Is that a good holy shit or a bad holy shit?”

“It’s a holy shit holy shit.” Leslie said, still a little bit stunned. “I mean, the last scene? With the bandages? I mean what the fuck? I mean it’s a…bold recommendation to make to a stranger that’s for sure but it was a good one.” She said, giddy, and all of a sudden Robin’s worst fears came true: she opened her mouth and couldn’t shut it.

Fun facts about the movie, her favorite things about cinematography, favorite movies in order, all of it came pouring out involuntarily. Steve sensed her panic and stepped in front of her.

“I think what Robin meant to say was that you should check out uh, Doctor, uh,” he glanced at Robin quickly, who tried to mouth the words subtly even though Leslie was standing a foot away. Steve read her lips and confidently looked to the customer and said: “Doctor Trained Dove. It's great. Arthouse.” 

Leslie tilted her head and pulled her lips between her teeth like she was trying as hard as she could not to laugh, Robin put her face in her hands and Steve grimaced, reading the room correctly and guessing he hadn’t gotten the title right.

“I haven’t heard about that one. What’s…it about?”

Steve opened his mouth and looked at Robin helplessly.

“It’s a musical about a surgeon that becomes a magician. It’s a lesser known sequel to Doctor Strangelove.” Robin said dryly, glaring at Steve when she said the real title and Leslie laughed and bit her lip.

“Didn’t know Kubrick did sequels.” She said teasingly.

“No, this one is John Hughes, actually.” Robin said, sarcasm not coming through as much as a hopeful punchline that she was obviously shocked to see land.

“Well, Unofficial Kubrick sequels aside, do you have another recommendation for me?” Leslie asked, now leaning on the counter.

“Are you sure you don’t want to hear about 2002?” Robin said, her voice now fully transitioned to that of a person daydreaming and unaware they were talking aloud.

“I preferred 2003, actually.” Leslie played along, and Robin knew she was laughing too hard as it was happening.

“Or 2004, right?” Steve cut in , and they both looked at him awkwardly as he ran a hand through his hair. “Seems like it’s a long time from now but it’s not that far, huh? Weird. End of the century."

Two two women just stared at him blankly and just like that the magic was broken. Robin was no longer in the nonexistent John Hughes movie where she was the one that got to kiss Molly Ringwald over a birthday cake and the three of them were just standing in a video store again.

“Have you seen Holy Mountain?” Robin suggested, and Leslie left with it in hand.

Robin and Steve sort of just stood there in shock at just how badly that interaction had just gone.

“Maybe you’re my bad luck charm. I feel like the last time I was cool was before I met you.” He said contemplatively.

“I’m not going to dignify that with a response besides the fact that I didn’t put you in that sailor outfit. If you want to get her attention tomorrow you’re gonna have to study up, man.” Robin said with a laugh, and Steve frowned at her and cocked his head.

“Me?” He asked, and Robin looked at him with confusion.

“Yeah? I thought you liked her.” 

“I mean she’s cute but I was kinda getting a…. Hm?” He said with a vocalization and a hand gesture that Robin didn’t understand.

“C’mon man, you know I have a hard enough time reading people as it is.” She complained.

“What vibe?” She asked incredulously.

“A vibe, Robin, there was a vibe.”

Steve looked around to make sure nobody was around so he could remind Robin that she was a lesbian and he was pretty sure that girl was flirting with her. 

“She was totally flirting with you.” He said quietly, and Robin looked at him far more aghast than she had any reason to be.

“What? No! No, of course she wasn’t flir- what would even make you think? I mean that’s just-” Robin stammered and Steve’s eyebrows got higher and higher.

“Alright, alright, alright, don’t start spiraling. You seemed into her, though, right? I’m not about to violate bro code and ask out the girl you like just because you’re a chick.” He said in what she assumed was a tone that bros used to talk to each other with a shrug and Robin just set her jaw in disbelief and well meaning annoyance.

    Not for the first time since she met him she imagined getting into a time machine and traveling to Ms. Clicks class and leaning over to whisper to herself See those two right there? See sweet, beautiful Tammy Thompson staring at that dick Steve Harrington? In a couple of years one of those people will be the single person on the planet earth that you have ever told that you’re gay and the best friend you’ve ever had in your life.  I’ll give you one guess to who it is, and if you guess right I’ll give you a billion US dollars. Also you’ll be tortured by evil Russians together. 

    “Whatever- look, whether or not I think she’s cute she’s not a- y’know-” she said, grimacing instead of saying lesbian in such a casul setting without a self pep talk to convince herself it wouldn’t be weird.

    “Returning Fast Times at 53 minutes and 12 seconds?” He offered, and her shoulders relaxed and she loosely pointed at him.

“Right. Sure. She’s not pausing fast times and she’s cool- why shouldn’t you go for it?” She said, now surprisingly adamant in a way that Steve didn’t understand in the slightest as Robin was almost always apathetic towards his love life.

“Because I blew my shot? It’s fine, it happens. A lot, according to the You Suck board.” He justified it, but Robin had a determined look on her face.

“I could coach you! Yeah, she’s gonna watch Holy Mountain tonight, why don’t we watch it too and you can talk to her about it.” She suggested, and Steve emphasized the confusion on his face.

“Robin, it's fine if you like her. You know I don’t have any problem with-” he started, and she cut him off on the spiel. 

He did that sometimes when she was upset and he couldn’t figure out why- always jumpeing to defend himself and assumed he had said something wrong by mistake. It happened on occasion, Steve, as much as she knew his heart was in the right place, was still a white, straight male former highschool bully from Hawkins Indiana with parents that voted for Reagan, he was always honest that he was still unlearning a lot of shit and it was inevitable that something would slip out every once in a while. The first time it had happened, about a month after they started working at the video store she heard him talking to an old team mate and casually dropped the word fairy as a descriptor. She told herself he didn’t mean it but she had still let it fester until he was following her around while she restocked movies asking what’s wrong what’s wrong what’s wrong over and over again like a petulant child. She confessed loudly and angrily before looking around in fear that there was a customer. He swore at himself and apologized profusely and in that moment she was really reminded of that night in the Starcourt bathroom and how, despite how annoying he was, Steve Harrington had a heart even bigger than his hair.

It had been a nice moment, the next time he said something a little off-color he caught it himself, but still apologized a lot. It only got annoying when he started doing it every time he (unfortunately, usually correctly) identified that she was in a bad mood because of a problem that stemmed from her sexuality and assumed that problem was that he said something offensive by accident. The truth was that there were just always going to be some things that she would go through that he would never be able to understand and would be hard for her to explain. Half the time she hadn’t even taken the time to figure out what exactly it was that was bothering her besides the baseline level of worry that came with the small town closeted lesbian territory.

“I know you’re not homophobic, Steve.” She said and he stopped, nodding in relief, but then doubling down on his confusion.

“So then why are you getting all weird about this?” he asked genuinely, and Robin shook her head exaggeratedly, like if she did it super obviously he would believe it more.

“Fine, I’ll watch the movie.” He conceded, as they started to gather their stuff for the end of the day. Robin shook a triumphant fist with a silent yes as she grabbed her bag and  headed out the door to his car.

“I’m not being weird at all. I just think you have a shot and she seems cool. Also I haven’t seen Holy Mountain in a while and it rules.” She said all too casually, and Steve stared at her suspiciously. Robin wasn’t budging, mostly because she didn’t really know why she suddenly had the urge to push them together either besides the odd sensation of trying to make something go away on its own. 

“Is this gonna be a movie that I have to think about a lot while we’re watching?” He asked apprehensively, and did not care for the mischievous and possibly sadistic smile she gave him

Wednesday

    Robin and Steve sat on stools behind the checkout counter, Steve looked shell shocked, to say the very least. More so than he looked after last year's Russian Invasion. Robin was alternating between laughing at him and trying her best to be comforting and apologetic.

    “Steve, I told you you could close your eyes if it got too scary.” She said in a voice she hoped sounded genuine and that he couldn’t hear it shaking a little. He didn’t say anything, just leaned back against the counter staring downwards, unresponsive. “Okay, you’ve been doing this for like a day and a half the movie wasn’t that weird.” she said, and he turned to glare at her.

    “You know that’s not true, Robin. You know that.” He said emphatically, and they glanced towards the door as it rang.

    It was Leslie, walking in with a grin on her face and the movie in hand and Steve was pretty sure that this girl might actually be a serial killer. Robin liked it, too, though, so maybe they were on a crime spree together and they were definitely going to take him outside and skin him alive and hang it up and- ugh, Steve stopped and put his palms over his eyes to get the image out of his head.

    “Is…he okay?” Leslie asked, leaning past Robin to look at the unresponsive Steve.

    “He’s fine- we actually watched Holy Mountain too last night and he's contemplating it.” Robin said, glancing at Steve and pumping the eyebrows of a wingwoman, and scowled when he didn’t see her because his head was now resting against the counter.

    From his vulnerable state, Steve braced himself to hear them babble on about the perfect ratio of that shot of that lady banging that mechanical horse without legs but instead only heard Leslie respond with a disingenuously excited “Oh!”

    Robin was expecting the same as Steve, and she couldn’t quite decipher the way that Leslie’s eyes flitted between the two of them.

    “I’m guessing Steve wasn’t a fan?” She asked, and Robin laughed at him to which he responded with a dry ha ha ha said from under his arms laying on the counter.

    “Well, that’s commitment for you. Takes quite a guy to sit through a movie like that just because he wants to hang out with you.” She said with a tight smile.  The way she said it made Robin wish she was better at social cues because she knew for damn sure she was missing something. 

    “Yeah, he’s alright.” Robin said affectionately. 

    Steve was torn between warm fuzzies at the closest thing his best friend can ever come to a compliment and smacking her on the back of the head for not realizing that this girl now thinks that they’re dating. It never ceased to fascinate him that the person that can decipher Russian without knowing Russian couldn’t hear that telltale sound of jealousy and disappointment in the goodbye of a person who just discovered that their crush was dating sebody already. Then again, he could do that but couldn’t decipher the Russian, so maybe it was just a different skill set. 

    “Wow, I’m sorry dude I really thought that she’d want to talk to you about the movie.”

    Leslie let out a fake laugh and put the tape and some cash on the counter before walking away with an awkward wave and disappeared with the bell. 

    Steve pulled himself up off the counter, his forehead red from pressing against the surface and his hair messed up, and his look was one of utter frustration and disbelief.

    “Holy shit, Robin of course she didn’t. She wanted to talk to you about the movie. She left because she thinks we’re dating and it bummed her out.” He said, almost in a yell at the fact that he knew she wasn’t going to listen to him.

    “Ooooh, that makes more sense. See, I was right, her being jealous is proof that she likes you.” Robin declared and Steve dropped his head back onto the counter with a smack that hurt enough to drive that weird ass flick out of his brain. “I’m sorry you watched Holy Mountain for nothing though. She’s right, it is a rough one if you don’t enjoy it.” She said casually, almost certainly smiling maliciously. He began to smack his head against the counter and he was pretty sure he heard her laughing.

Thursday

    Family Video opened at 11 AM, so almost every morning after he dropped Robin off he’d go and try to figure out more ways to not talk to Keith for an entire shift. Today he had decided to take the stack of returns into the back room and rewind the ones returned by the “unkind” that he secretly wanted to kiss on the mouth for giving him a really easy and time consuming thing to do every morning until his break, where he’d go get Robin, listen to her rant about school, get some drive thru for the both of them, and then finish off the day with his best friend. 

    All in all, it was an alright gig.

    Except for Thursdays. Steve hated Thursdays.

    Because on Thursdays Robin’s band practice goes late and she doesn’t work a shift, and Keith takes off for long periods at random intervals and would leave him alone to mind the store on a pretty busy day of the week.

    Today was slow, both in passage of time and number of customers, so they canceled each other out and made the day suck exactly as much as last Thursday. 

    He continued to rewind movies, noting a few titles for later that seemed interesting. He took out the next tape and pushed it in. The movie turned on and Steve nearly fell off his chair when his screen was very suddenly two very naked women. He didn’t rewind yet as the two of them kissed and Steve glanced down at the tape. Desert Hearts. He quickly checked to see who returned it and it was, unsurprisingly, a long list of male names, a few of whom he recognized from various sports teams and parties throughout high school, and strangely Karen Wheeler of all people, but he wasn’t going to unpack that. 

As Steve scanned the back of the VHS box he read about the plot of the lesbian love affair that blossoms between the two women out west and a plan formed in his mind, and that plan would help him honor his Duty as a Man with a Heart a Soul and The Critical Social Skills Robin Buckley Lacks: He was going to get his best friend laid. Because that's what friends do.

-

Later that day Steve had an okay plan that could potentially pan out and now was just waiting for the opportunity, he just had to wait for Leslie to come in like she had every day this week. He leaned against the counter and idly watched the screens and glanced out the display glass as people passed by.

    That was when he glanced up to see somebody slowing down and peeking inside. It was Leslie. Whatever she saw, she looked away and kept walking. Steve tilted his head in confusion, but pushed the VHS tape into the player and waited. There wasn’t much business today and as the movie played he did find himself a bit enraptured in the drama between the two women. 

 The only time when his attention was torn from the weighty glances between Vivian and Kay was when he saw somebody pause outside the window. It was Leslie again, peeking in. When Steve met her eye and waved a little she looked like she had been caught red handed and awkwardly walked in and waved.

“Uh, hey Sam.” She said a little stiffly.

“It’s- it’s Steve.” He corrected, and she quietly apologized and wandered into the stacks.

Now that Leslie was actually in the store, Steve realized that his so-called ‘plan’ was actually just the idea to put the movie about lesbians on the tv and wait to see if she reacted. He wished that wingmanning for Robin didn’t have to be so subtle. 

She put the box on the counter and Steve began to slowly start checking out the movie to give her time for her to either look at the tv and say…something. This was a stupid plan, he realized, and he made a quick move to salvage it.

Using his stealth skills gained from years of monster hunting and high-stakes babysitting, he tried to secretly watch Leslie around the store and noticed that she seemed to not be looking at the movies, but at the staff break room and around the store for other clues about the whereabouts of a certain missing front desk associate. When her eyes caught the TV screen and saw the actresses that Steve hoped looked familiar her head snapped back in front of her and she stood very still, examining a box without really seeing it for what she deemed long enough to take it to the counter to make a quick escape.

“Do you like this movie?” He asked, pointing at the screen and unable to stop himself from visibly cringing.

She looked up at him incredibly awkwardly. “I’m…not sure what movie that is, honestly.” She said, and he was like 50% sure she was lying.

“Robin likes this movie.” What had happened after breaking up with Nancy that left him so much worse at talking to other people? Was it Dustin’s influence? Was it just that he didn’t know how to be charming without being a total dick? He knew it was probably that one.

Leslie gave him a tight smile. “That’s sweet that you’re watching her favorite movies. She’s a nice girl. I'm glad she’s got someone that cares.” 

“Yes! Robin is a nice girl!” He said energetically, even if that wasn’t necessarily a word he’d use for her. “She’s super cool and smart too. She speaks four languages and can translate Russian by ear.” he said, hyping her up, realizing now that Leslie had meant it’s sweet that you watch your girlfriend’s favorite movies.

“I…didn’t know that. Very impressive. You two make a cute couple.” She said, and it was audibly strained.

“We’re not dating. We’re just friends. Best friends.” He added at the end, a little embarrassed of himself. “But I do watch her favorite movies and thank you for seeing the value in that because Holy Mountain has literally been haunting me for two days and I just think that friends should get credit for doing that shit too.” He added in annoyance at nobody in particular.

“Oh!” She said, and he could hear the audible relief, and saw her glance back at the tv and swallow. Steve could see the gears grinding in her head and he could not believe that his terrible plan might be working. “That’s- I mean- I guess I just assumed.”

“Nope, not dating, she’s totally single. I asked her out a little after we first met because of all the cool hot smart stuff I said earlier but she was not interested and now we’re just friends.” He explained, trying to put emphasis on the not. 

“Best friends.” Leslie said gently with a smile, her awkwardness gone and replaced with a very cautious beginning of a theory he was trying to confirm without saying anything.

“Yes! Best friends. Because she’s the best.” He said, nodding, and then Leslie nodded too. They stood there in silence for a second before Steve remembered he was checking out her movie.

He went to write down the number and furrowed his brow when he saw the title.

“National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation? This doesn’t seem like your kind of flick.” Steve said oddly, and her cheeks got a little red.

“I was kinda waiting for Robin to give me another recommendation.” She said with an awkward laugh.

Steve saw his opening, and was closing in on his plan quickly and efficiently. “Well, Robin really likes this movie.” He said, stepping aside so she had a full view of the tv and the lengthy stares between the two actresses. “Do you want to rent it?” he asked, suddenly kind of hoping she said no because he wanted to finish watching it.

“Uh, sure?” She said, and he reluctantly turned around to eject it and making it a full spin when he came up with an alternative.

“Oooh no!” He said in a dramatic fake tone akin to a child's television star that didn’t see you come in but wants to show you some puppets anyway. “This is actually Robin’s copy of Desert Hearts, and not the stores. So I can’t lend it to you.” He said in an exaggerated voice.

Leslie furrowed her brow. “Then why is it playing?”

“Becaaaaaause….she thought I’d like it and she knew it would be a slow day and she wasn’t working.” He pulled out of nowhere.  “But- you should come back tomorrow, when she is here and ask her to borrow it. Oh! Maybe you could watch it together and talk about cinema! Now that’s an idea!” He said, knowing he was overplaying it while he was talking and as Leslie stared at him incredulously.

“You…want me. To come in tomorrow. And ask your friend Robin if I can watch her copy of Desert Hearts with her?” Leslie asked, and Steve nodded profusely at the secret code the two of them had developed. 

“Yes. That’s exactly what I think you should do. If you want to.” He said encouragingly, and he could tell that Leslie was running some serious cost-risk analysis gymnastics in her head trying to decide if this really weird situation was actually trustworthy. Steve knew that if he said anything else he could blow his cover, so he just kept his mouth shut.

A little smile came on Leslie’s face and she nodded.

“ I guess I’ll be back tomorrow, then.” She said, and Steve thought it was adorable how she was trying to hide her excitement.

She left with a little spring in her step and, unsurprisingly, National Lampoon’s stayed on the counter with him. Steve grinned, imagining how excited Robin was going to be, and started to rewind the movie because he was sure that he’d missed something important while he was talking to Leslie.

Friday

It was Friday at Family Video and Steve was acting….weird. 

“Dude, tell me what’s wrong you know I can’t read body language.” She scolded and he shrugged energetically.

“Nothings wrong. Everything’s great!” He said, and reached out to pick a piece of fluff out of her hair so she would look her best when Leslie arrived but she smacked his hand away.

“Don’t touch my hair-Is it the Russians again?” Robin asked seriously.

“What? No. Why do you always assume it’s Russian?”

“Because of the time that it was Russians.” 

“Yeah but it was only once.” He said calmly.

“That’s already too many times, Steve.” She said dryly. “Okay, fine, nothing’s wrong but something is up. What is it?”

He sighed. “Okay, but I’m only keeping it a secret because I don’t want you to freak out and get in your head about it.” He explained, and Robin’s eyes went wide.

“Oh no. What did you do?” she asked in horror. 

“Not oh no! This is good!”

“Tell me now or I’m going to punch you in the throat Steve Harrington I took a self defense class after last summer.” She said sternly. Robin didn’t like surprises. Especially after the Russian thing.

Steve leaned in conspiratorially, looking around the store to double check that no customers had snuck in. “Leslie’s gonna ask you out today.”

“What?” Robin squeaked, her eyes going wide and her chest filling up with that extra special anxiety that was cooked up for her specifically by Sappho two thousand years ago and Ronald Reagan now.

“Yeah! It’s gonna be great- I had a whole plan to figure out if she was, y’know, pausing Fast Times and it worked and she’s gonna come in later and ask if she can come over and watch your copy of Desert Hearts.” He explained cheerfully, hoping that his enthusiasm would break through what he really hoped was happy stunned silence.

“What? How did you..? Did you tell her I was- I mean what the fuck, Dude- and what is Desert Hearts?” She stammered, trying to gather her thoughts.

“You haven’t seen it?” He asked in shock. “Oh my god it’s amazing the chemistry between Helen Shaver and Patricia Charbonneau is electric and-”

“Steve!” She said, snapping him out of his review.

“Right, sorry. I didn’t tell her anything, I just put on the movie and said that you liked it and she said she also liked it and I said that she should ask if you want to watch it.” He said calmly. “More or less.” he added, but Robin didn’t look any less freaked out. “What’s wrong? I thought you liked her.” He asked, truly confused.

That happened sometimes. Steve would assume he  said something wrong but that’s just because he doesn’t like seeing her upset. If he had just accidentally said something shitty at least he could just apologize but more often than not it was just something that she didn’t believe she could explain to him. He had asked her to try, he was her friend and he knew that he was the only one that knew she liked girls- He wanted her to be able to talk to somebody- he hated that his best friend ever felt alone.

“It’s not about that you just- you shouldn’t have done that.” She said angrily and walked towards the counter away from him.

“Why not? You’re always helping me get dates- why can’t I help you too?” He asked, hoping she could tell he was confused and not just being difficult.

“Because it’s different!” She snaped.

“You always say that but maybe it isn’t! Maybe I would understand. We’re friends, Robin. Just because we don’t have the same experiences doesn’t mean that I won’t be able to listen and help you. You told me about how much you liked Tammy- I thought you wanted to meet somebody.” He said, and Robin glanced at him, her hard gaze softening to something more awkward and nervous and familiar.

“It’s just…” she started, screwing up her face and trying to figure out how to explain something that frustrated her about herself endlessly. “It’s- fuck- okay,” she took a deep breath and tried to start, quickly scrubbing her face with her hand. 

“I knew Tammy didn’t like me back. It wasn’t real it was just a stupid crush and it hurt like hell but it was still safe.” She tried, words spilling out of her.

“Robin, Leslie’s a nice girl. She’s not going to hurt you.” He said, pained at the fact that he got to ask out and get rejected by 20 girls a week and Robin could just watch from afar.

“That’s not what I mean. I mean, it kind of is, you never really know it’s just- fuck.” she groaned in frustration, pacing for a moment before finally finding her words.

 “I don’t know what I’m doing, okay?” She said in a furious rush. “I’ve never done this before. It’s not like when you were ten and you got to walk up to a little girl on the playground and ask to hold her hand. I never got to learn how to flirt or ask my friends if the girl I like mentioned me or figure out when you’re allowed to put your arm around a date at the movies. 

“Robin…” Steve said softly, but she wasn’t done and he wasn’t going to stop her. She took another unsteady breath

“I didn’t get a first date, or a first kiss or a dance with my crush at the Snow Ball or-or ever get to ask my mom for dating advice or gotten to hear my dad sternly talk to my date before giving a nod of approval.” Robin sniffed hard, her eyes watering up as she valiantly fought away the tears.

“I didn’t get any of that. And I’m never going to.” She said, her voice now rough with emotion and a little quieter. She wiped away a stray bit of wetness from her eye and twisted her mouth up. “Nobody’s going to be pulling up in a limo to take me to prom.”

“I’m always going to be different, and it’s hard and it hurts that all of that is just gone now and I missed all of it and I can’t ever get it back. I’m never gonna be a kid at the Snow Ball looking at Kelsey Landin sitting by the punch and not understanding what was so wrong about wanting to ask her to dance. I couldn’t even doodle our names in a heart in my notebooks.” She took a gasping breath and wiped away a tear that finally fell. 

“It shouldn’t be like that.” She was almost talking to herself now, taking an angry breath and shaking her head. “I was just a kid. It wasn’t fair that for my entire life every person that has ever claimed to love me might have hated a piece of me so much that if I was sitting on the swing sets at recess holding hands with Jenny Becker instead of you then I would be utterly ostracized by everybody. Not just bullies. Friends, family, students, teachers, strangers. Grown-ass adults that would hate a child for the crime feeling the same way as every other kid but about the wrong kind of person.” Her voice was sad and proud and angry and valiantly holding down the waterworks that were going to come bursting through any second now. 

“I mean, Jesus, Steve, you’re the only person I ever told and I did it totally on a whim fueled by adrenaline and truth serum- you have no idea what it’s like not knowing if anybody else I care about might turn on me and ruin my life if they actually knew me. I still don’t even know if my parents would still fucking love me if they knew I wanted to watch a stupid movie with a pretty girl and put my head on her shoulder.” Robin was humiliated that she was fully crying now, sitting down behind the desk on the floor and unable to stop. She had kept all of this in for so long and now it was pouring out of her involuntarily. Steve walked away for a moment and she felt an irrational panic that he was going to leave and not wantt to be her friend anymore because she couldn't keep the ugly parts of it to herself and left any discussion of her sexuality at vague looks of hot or not when a girl came into the store. She watched him go to the door and her heart froze until he just reached out flipped the sign to closed before coming back and sitting next to her on the floor. 

Relief flooded her followed quickly by more misery that after all they’d been through her instincts still told her that she shouldn’t expect him to be okay with her saying any of this out loud and the tears came back in full force.

 Steve put his arm around her and pulled her close so she could cry into his shoulder and patted her back as comfortingly as he could as his heart just fucking shattered. He remembered when they were in the Starcourt bathroom and she said that if he really knew her then he wouldn’t even want to be her friend. The two of them had just been kidnapped and tortured by evil invading Russians armed with bone saws and floor eating acid and Robin was afraid to tell him that she had a crush on Tammy Thompson. Even worse is that she had watched him be King Dickhead Steve for years and he had almost certainly given her a reason to think he wouldn’t be okay with it at some point.

You know what, Byers? I’m actually kind of impressed because I always took you for a queer but turns out you’re just a screwup like your father. Was what he had said to Jonathan after telling Nancy to go to hell. He felt bad as soon as he said it, but that didn’t stop him. Back then he didn’t know how to be hurt he just knew how to be angry. He had been heartbroken, in love, and an absolute piece of shit about it. About thirty seconds after saying it Jonathan was beating the ever loving shit out of him and each punch really hit home the fact that he absolutely deserved it. 

He had actually thanked Jonathan later for very literally knocking some sense into him, and to his surprise, he forgave him. And it felt good. He hated who he used to be. He really did, so he had made a few phone calls and a few drop ins to make some heartfelt apologies to some surprised people that were genuinely shocked that he would ever have come around. The worst part is that he would never really know everybody that he hurt, never know who was out there overhearing him say something hateful and taking it to heart.

Robin was his favorite person. He wasn’t sure when it had happened but despite all his complaining she was somehow the only person he knew that really got him. She exploited that knowledge constantly and used it against him, sure, but she got him. He wished he could make her feel as understood as she did. But there would always be things like this that he never would’ve considered that she had gone through her whole life. 

Eventually her breathing calmed down and she sat up, her breathing a bit unsteady and her face red and puffy. She gave him a watery smile when she saw their matching tear tracks and she patted him gratefully on the shoulder.

“I’m sorry about that- that was-”

“You don’t need to apologize, Robin. I’m serious.” He said, looking at her so she knew he meant it. “If I’m the only one you have to talk to about this then I want to hear it all, even when it’s sad and it sucks. Especially when it’s sad and it sucks.” He said, and took a deep breath. “You’re not alone anymore. Anybody tries to mess with you or make you feel like shit just come and get me and I know that I’m not enough to make up for the entire world’s garbage but if there’s anything I can do to make all of that even a fraction less shitty for you then I’ll do it.”

He looked at his hands for a moment, feeling a confession of his own coming on.

“You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, you know.” Steve said honestly, and Robin quirked an eyebrow. “Like, even though I was super popular and knew everybody I still only really hung out with Tommy and Carol and they were just the worst.” he sighed, not knowing how to say this without making it seem like he was trying to get out of responsibility for being a shithead. 

“I have never met two people so good at making somebody feel like a fucking loser like Tommy and Carol and there is nobody better at making you terrified of being that loser like they could. I’m not saying that they forced me to shove nerds against lockers or anything but any time I tried to do the right thing they’d just shut me down and taunt me until it felt like if I didn’t do whatever bullshit they wanted me to then everybody would think I wasn’t a real man or some shit and they’d drop me and then I wouldn’t be fucking King Steve anymore.” He shook his head, his hair wobbling as he swore and looked at Robin, unsure if he was getting across what he was trying to and he saw that she was listening, even if her thing had been bigger and more painful she still cared.

“And that’s exactly what happened. For the first time in my life I stood up to them instead of for them and Tommy punched me in the face and drove away. Never even tried to talk to me again. Then at school they started all kinds of rumors and talked shit about me all the time and then I wasn’t King Steve anymore and…” he trailed off and had a little smile “and then I was happy.” He said, in a little disbelief.

“I was thinking about that the other day, pointing at you and Tammy in Ms Clicks class and asking young Robin one day, one of those two people will be the only person you trust enough to tell that you’re not into dudes.” She said, a little mystically, and Steve burst out laughing, and Robin quickly followed. Their laughter calmed down and they knew that the storm had passed and they came out better on the other side of it. They grabbed each others hands to hoist each other back to a standing position and looked at  each other grinning.

“I didn’t fucking hate myself anymore, I got to follow my own instincts and do the right thing. Sure, Nancy dumped my ass and broke my heart and it actually felt so good to just…be sad. Without Tommy and Carol taunting and yelling at me until I felt so angry and pathetic that we’d spray paint her name on the movie theater again and I would’ve felt like absolute shit about it for the rest of my life. I was totally heartbroken but for the first time in my life I actually got to feel it and it. Then Dustin Henderson of all people comes sprinting at me one day and says that everybody else is busy and he needs my help.” He grinned. “It’s just stupid, right? All that time I only cared about being popular and if I could tell my younger self that someday I’d be working in at the video store for minimum and I’d spend all my time hanging out with a 15 year old egomaniac and a band geek that I was briefly a little bit in love with until she rejected me and the entire male population on the floor of a mall bathroom I’d do it and let him know up front that they’re honestly the reason that I’ve never been happier. Really rub his nose in it too.” He said, and Robin laughed aloud in that special way he recognized because it always preceded I was just about to say that.

“Is my face red?” She asked, touching it and being a bit satisfied at how healthy her skin felt after crying.

“Yeah but just give it a couple minutes.” He said, and she nodded. “Hey, when Leslie does get here you can go hide in the back or something if you really don’t want to talk to her, I know I overstepped, but if you need any advice on stuff you didn’t get a chance to learn let me know, no judgment- guaranteed.”

Robin furrowed her brow. “Wait- how exactly did your conversation with Leslie go yesterday? Did you just point at the screen and ask if she liked the movie?” She asked incredulously, and Steve slowly began to nod.

“Uhhh…yeah. That’s exactly what I did.” He said, and she started to laugh again. Steve grinned when he heard a laugh that seemed a little lighter now.

About an hour later the bell rang and Leslie came in. Steve nodded at her and went into the shelves to give quiet support and maybe some advice via arm gestures from behind Leslie, and Robin took a deep breath.

Both girls were extremely nervous, both giggling when their eyes met in a way that reminded Steve a bit of middle school. He smiled to himself and resented the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes when he thought about her getting a chance at simple, blushy, giggly, inexperienced romance for the first time. She deserved it, more than anybody.

“So, um, this is kind of a weird question but I stopped by yesterday to see if you have a copy of um…Desert Hearts?” Leslie said tentatively like she was giving a secret password at a speakeasy and hoping it was the right one.

Robin had a determined look on her face that didn’t necessarily give off a romantic vibe but he could feel her relentless bravery from where he stood.

“I’ve heard of it.” Robin tried to say mysteriously, waiting for the next part.

“And your friend with the hair- He said that, um, that you didn’t have it at the store but he said that you had a copy and that maybe…..you…might…want to watch it with me?” She said, finishing with a smile that was also a grimace. Steve was delighted at how awkward the girl who had seemed so cool all week had gotten.

“I…would like that very much.” Robin said, holding in all her excitement to seem casual when inside she was exploding.

“Cool.” Leslie said, and she and Robin stared at each other in gleeful silence until they made a plan to meet after her shift and Leslie left, waving awkwardly while walking out the door. The bell rang as the door shut and Robin turned around so she could catch her weight against the counter, but Steve’s eyes followed Leslie out the door first and saw her get into a car parked out front with a driver that was currently giving her a high five and obviously congratulating her. Steve waved subtly to the silhouette of the other wingman and he waved back before they drove  away.

Steve then walked up to Robin to see her smiling dreamily and starry eyed.

“Cool.” She said softly, and smiled again. She wasn’t much help around the store for the rest of the day, but every glance he got of the wistful Robin putting tapes back in the wrong places and saying cool in a whisper every few moments and giggling made it worth it. 

Saturday

    Steve waited anxiously outside Robin’s house before work and was annoying himself more and more every time his brain made the comparison of a parent waiting for their kid after their first day of school to ask how it went when they’ve spent the whole day worrying. It wasn’t like that, but he was still anxious for her to come outside.

    Robin opened the door and waved goodbye to her family and started towards the car. He could see the size of her grin from the moment she was in sight. 

    When she got into the car she was silent for a moment, and he refused to drive, only stared at her expectantly

    “So? How’d it go?”

    Robin was trying to play it cool despite the fact that she was bouncing in her chair. 

    “You know that whole list of things I thought I had missed out on and it was too late for? Let’s just say I…checked a couple things off.” She said coyly, and Steve grinned at her proudly and gave her a victorious shoulder pat. That’s when she exploded into squeals and all that sandy hair shaking around her as she bounced up and down.

    “Oh my god, Steve, it was amazing. She was so cool and pretty and funny and we had so much in common and we, um” She stopped and her cheeks turned red, and Steve’s eyebrows shot up.

    “I knew it. I knew that you had it in you to be a total chick magnet.” He said proudly, and she grinned at him, shrugging in concession.

    “Turns out I’m a natural Cassanova.” She said with only a hint of irony, and turned her head to look at him. “Thank you, Steve. I mean it.” she said with a tone so genuine that it almost sounded strange in her voice.

    Steve nodded and smiled back. “No worries. I’m your wingman, it’s what friends do. And I like seeing you happy.” 

            The End.

    “Well then…you did what you came to do, because I’m really really happy right now. You’re a good friend.” She said with a sweet finality. Things would stop being mushy and go back to normal but they’d never be the same.

As they began their drive to work they glanced at each other and smiled one more time. Robin had never been so grateful to have a friend like Steve, and Steve had never been so proud to have a friend like her. 

[kirby-the-gorb]

[kn11ves]

emotional support group for autistics who got called condescending and rude as kids just for responding to things directly and still not knowing how they were being mean

[theamazingannie]

Kinda crazy how people will call out celebrities for not speaking up on political issues and then a celebrity WILL speak up on that political issue but doesn’t do it in exactly the way these people want so they’ll call THEM out too and it’s like why tf would anyone want to do anything these days if every action they take gets them called out???

[strfe]

finished rebirth & i'll maybe write more about it some other time but for now i'll just say it was ok

[pandoratheprocrasticreator]

when ppl who like the huntlow ship post about “all the crumbs” in the show which include cutesy scenes but are mostly just screenshots where theyre in the same frame but most of the time gus is also in the frame and interacting with either hunter or willow more than theyre interacting with each other so ppl just poorly crop gus out of the screenshot

[idontdrinkgatorade]

i feel so anxious rn