#sports car of the insect world

[jenfoundabug]

Gorgeous metallic blue wasp we rescued from the pool. I'm pretty sure its a blue mud dauber (Chalybion californicum) since I often see these guys grabbing water from the pool.

[alexalblondo]

Vettel: No regrets on retiring, realises how small F1 world is

Sebastian Vettel has said he has had no regrets about retiring from Formula 1, after coming to realise how small a world grand prix racing is.

Jonathan Noble Sep 21, 2023 at 12:14 PM

The four-time world champion is attending this weekend’s Japanese Grand Prix to help launch his ‘Buzzin’ Corner’ project to raise awareness for biodiversity.

All 20 current F1 drivers on Thursday attended a launch event for the new insect hotels that have been built on the inside of Turn 2 at Suzuka, where the kerbs have also been painted black and yellow in a nod to what Vettel has done.

Speaking about his enthusiasm for the campaign, Vettel said that he was happy in retirement – especially as it had made him realise about life outside of F1.

Asked if there were any second thoughts about an F1 comeback, Vettel said: “Not for now. I mean, I've enjoyed this project.

“It is obviously a small project, but I've enjoyed my time so far this year, and had lots of ideas, and lots of things that I read up on.

“F1 was the centre to my life for so long, but once you step out, you realise even more how big the rest of the world is, and how small in a way F1 is.

“But not to take any excitement from the sport: it's an amazing sport and amazing feeling to drive those cars. So yes, of course I do miss that. But I also feel at some point it's probably time for all of us to move on.”

Vettel explained that the idea for the insect hotels at Suzuka was pitched to F1 CEO Stefano Domenicali during his visit to the Monaco Grand Prix earlier this year.

While the Suzuka project is a one-off for now, Vettel said he would be open to other tracks installing similar areas to help raise awareness of biodiversity.

“That would be great, but obviously it's largely dependent on F1's backing,” he said. “Obviously Stefano was very supportive. I pitched the project in Monaco. He was supportive and confident that we can do it. So yeah, happy that we got it done.

“It was absolutely great to have the support from the other drivers. To get everybody, I think it's quite overwhelming. Also, some team principals, team managers came, it was just the whole community. To have most of them here was great.”

While Vettel is enthused by his biodiversity and climate push, he does not think it has yet become his calling after quitting F1.

“Maybe I'm still waiting for my calling, but it's definitely something that's very close to my heart and very important to me,” he explained.

“It's not my calling, I think it should be, in a way, everybody's calling because rather than talking about insects and forms of life, you can bring it back to talking about us, because we all like to eat. And who's pollinating plants?

“It's all sorts of insects, and if they disappear because we are losing biodiversity fast, we are in the middle of a mass extinction with losing species that we probably haven't understood yet.

“So, if that decline continues, then basically we will disappear from this planet. And that would be a shame. So, it's not my calling. It should be all our calling.”

[imminentinertia]

Get To Know Me Tag Game

@telomeke tagged me, and I enjoyed your post <3

do you make your bed?

In the morning, I fluff my pillow and turn down the duvet to air the mattress. Fitted sheet doesn't move much around.

what's your favourite number?

21 (if you know, you know)

what is your job?

I'm a [redacted] at [redacted], mostly working with [redacted] and [redacted], and my going to Vienna a lot has nothing to do with Vienna up until recent years being the spy capital of the world.

if you could go back to school, would you?

Depends. I will maim anyone trying to send me back to primary or lower secondary, but if I could bring all I know now, I'd be back in upper secondary before you could say "the dawn of the slut era". I had a lot of fun those years, and I loved so many of my teachers and subjects.

can you parallel park?

I don't have a driver's licence, and parallel parking isn't part of my limited knowledge of driving a car.

a job you had that would surprise people?

I'm pretty certain people who know me and know how much I hate talking to random strangers think being a salesperson is wildly out of character for me, but I was honestly good at it. It helped a lot that I was selling something people need (insurance).

do you think aliens are real?

I find it difficult to believe that we *gesticulates wildly* are the only sentient beings in the universe. Come the fuck on.

can you drive a manual car?

No. Not a non-manual car either.

what's your guilty pleasure?

It's taken me years to get there, but I no longer feel guilty about anything I enjoy. I regret it when I scarf down an entire bag of Olw Cheez Ballz, but that has mostly to do with being uncomfortably full.

tattoos?

I don't have any, I've been dithering about that my entire adult life, but I'm interested in the cultural history and expression of tattoos and I love rather a lot of tattoo styles.

favorite color?

Dark teals, silver, light sage green tones.

favorite type of music?

Ahaha. Well. Anything that makes my brain buzz? What I've come to realise is that I need something from music that resists me a bit, something jagged, sinister, haunting or filthy. Something that's not a dime a dozen. Something a bit spiky. Like this new song from Beth Gibbons.

do you like puzzles?

YES I DO INDEED. Any sort. This is where almost all of my possibilities for addiction live.

any phobias?

All out phobias, I don't really know. I have phobic reactions to some insects and body fluids and any sort of injury to eyes and nails (ridiculously specific, this).

favorite childhood sport?

Ew no. Ballet kid in rabid handball/football territory, I developed allergies to sports in general. Okay, I played and enjoyed badminton, to be fair.

do you talk to yourself?

Oh yes. Sometimes out loud. In several languages.

what movies do you adore?

Can I do a separate post on this? To name a few: The Fall, Gosford Park, The Handmaiden, Some Like It Hot, Thelma, Immortel, Pojkarna, Das Leben der Anderen

coffee or tea?

Ooooh depends. I love so many hot and iced coffee drinks, and iced matcha with oat milk, and black strong tea, and tisanes omg, and and and I think I need another lungo with a splash of milk. Coffee maybe wins?

first thing you wanted to be growing up?

An archaeologist. I blame reading several books by Thor Heyerdahl as a child.

As usual, if you've read this far I pronounce you tagged (please tag me if you do the post, I'm curious).

[alien-hybreed]

INSECTOID INFECTION

Larissa is an officer posted to a research facility on a backwater jungle planet where nothing interesting happens.

Her disdain for her comrades is matched only by how desperately she wants off this humid hellscape. She doesn't even know what the facility is researching or why anyone cares. But when an alien specimen seeks refuge in her quarters... well, maybe it couldn't hurt to stay here...

Fire Captain Larissa Sile let out an exhausted sigh as the door to her quarters slid shut behind her with a whoosh. She'd hated everything about this mission and this backwater planet. Outside her window, dark clouds gathered on the horizon, overshadowing the tropical jungle outside. Great. Tomorrow will probably be humid and wet as well as a pointless bug hunt. She hated this planet when it was wet and humid. It made her armour chafe and her temper quick. The sickly sweet floral scent of the jungle became all the more overpowering. In the humid air to the point where it was vomit inducing. Throwing her helmet at her bunk, Larissa groaned. Putting up with the dickhead men in her squad was bad enough on it's own Together with this world's climate and the three weeks they'd been here as the sole occupants of outpost 38-S, well it was a wonder she hadn't vaporized them all and torched the entire outpost. Because then it would be just you and the jungle. Which you hate the most. She mused to herself.

Larissa hated the jungle. Not just because it was dangerous, home to hyper violent megafauna and ferocious insects the size of small cars. Or because it stank like rancid honey and flowers. No the thing Larissa hated most about the jungle was how she always felt like she was being watched. Despite her height, she was remarkably pretty. Her short black hair, steely grey eyes and sharp features gave her an aura of intensity that was reinforced by her tall, muscular build. Without saying a word, she radiated power. And yet that didn’t stop her idiot subordinates from joking about who got the privilege of watching her back in the field. They were creeps but that didn’t faze her. No, it was the way it felt like something else in the jungle was always watching her. That put the wind up her in a way she just couldn't quite put her finger on.

Unclipping her breast plate, she let it fall to the floor with a thud. Her chiseled abs heaved as she took a deep breath, savoring the cool conditioned air on her skin. Now to wriggle free of her arm armour and get this damn sports bra off, then she could at least wipe down her upper body and relax a little. A faint clicking somewhere in her room about gave her a heart attack. Whirling around to look for the source of the sound, her heart began to race. Again the sound clicked, all the more excited as if in response to her movement. Larissa drew her knife from it's sheath on her thigh armour as she scoured the room. She noticed the door to her wardrobe slightly ajar.

“Hoskins, I swear to god if you're in there with a camera, you are a dead man” she threatened, brandishing the knife in front of her with one hand while she reached for the door with the other. No response. There was a very real possibility that this wasn't her men goofing around.

“you know this sort of fucking around is how Deacon wound up in the infirmary, right?” still no answer. She put her hand on the handle of the wardrobe door. She was starting to sweat a little, it wasn't like her troops to not try and smartass her when they knew they were in shit.

“if you're just trying to have a look, we could blow off some steam together, since you're here and I was undressing anyway…” surely that would get a response. She was being quite sincere too. It had been a while and she wasn’t above a one night stand for her own gratification. No response, just more clicking. Ok, too weird, enough is enough she thought as she flung the door wide open.

With a high pitched screech, the intruder revealed itself. Lunging out of the wardrobe came a bizarrely humanoid insect. Its upper body and arms shaped like a man but covered in black chitin with tufts of fluffy white fur around it's collar and elbows. Its head was oval shaped and bug eyed, dozens of tiny mandibles twitching and clicking where its mouth ought to be. Bright red antennae extended from it's forehead, twitching as if they were searching for something. Its lower body turned into an abdomen and thorax with four spindly legs that held it up. All in all, the beast was about eight feet tall and sent Larissa sprawling with a scream. Before she could pull herself upright, it unfurled an enormous set of wings from its back, fluffy on the outside, texture like velvet on the inner. Bright yellow and purple swirls and patterns covered the inner wing, the longer she looked at it, Larissa could see flecks and streaks of orange and blue that seemed to blur into the other colours. It almost made her dizzy to stare at them but she couldn't take her eyes off them. Just when she'd thought she had them figured out, she'd find a another twisting pair of colours or spiral that hadn't been there before. The creature screeched and clicked again, beating it's wings as if it were excited.

Larissa tried to stand up but she was sluggish and drowsy, her arms and legs barely supporting her. She'd dropped her knife somewhere and should have been panicking. Instead she felt oddly serene, as if she couldn't be afraid even if she wanted to.

“you're uh… kinda pretty” she slurred. Everything felt heavy and warm. If this had been Hoskins, she'd be riding him now, she mused.. Sex was a nice thought. Sex was nice.

“you don't want to hurt me do you” she whispered. The creature trilled and clicked, gently beating its wings again. Larissa giggled as she saw in the light, spores floating off the creatures wings and swirling over her. It almost tickled as the tiny flecks stuck to her sweaty skin. It clicked again and somehow Larissa seemed to understand it's intent.

“you think I'm pretty?” she slurred. She should have just gone and fucked Hoskins. She could be fucking now. Slowly, she pulled her sports bra over her head and cast it aside. Gently, she squeezed her breasts together and giggled again.

“what about these, hmm?” she said in a voice she usually reserved for a date going extremely well. The creature chirped and flapped it's wings some more. More spores swirled around her and Larissa felt herself relaxing the more she breathed them in. The creature extended its arm, holding its hand out as if it offered to take hers. Such a gentleman, she thought to herself, reaching out to take it's hand. She giggled again as it pulled her close, it's antennae gently brushing over her face and chest as it continued to click and chirp. Larissa felt compelled to throw herself on it, to run her hands through its fur and stroke the smooth surfaces of its carapace. She then realized she wasn't just thinking it, she'd been doing it for a minute now, the creature's head gently nuzzling at her neck.

Slowly, a large, pink, fleshy tube began to extend from the creature's thorax. Several bumps and ridges lined the throbbing organ as it rapidly became about a foot long, it's tip barbed and hard like some sort of stinger. Larissa didn't notice at al as she gently kissed the creature's cheek. She continued to stroke the creature's fluffy neck with one hand while she frantically tried to pull at the belt holding her pants and leg armour up. Her kisses were growing increasingly passionate as she inched her lips towards the creature's mandibles. With a deft touch, the creature laid a clawed hand on her chest and pushed her back onto her bed. Larissa exhaled sharply and chirped back at the creature as best as she could. The same chirp it had squeaked at her, as best as she could mimic it. I want you, she knew that's what it meant but she had no idea how she knew that.

The creature clambered over her and chirped back, I want you. Again and again but then a curious clicking twist on the end. Something about being a part of a hive or making a hive? Larissa chirped back an even shorter burst, an affirmation of her lust, a simple want. The creature trilled happily and wriggled its mandibles into and around her mouth. Larissa moaned with delight at the sudden rush of stimulation and gripped the creatures shoulders tightly. Her hips bucked up to meet the creature's thorax, her armour still in place and loudly tapping against it's carapace. Larissa’s skin was tingling aa the spores bonded to her, faint wisps of white fur beginning to form around her exposed collarbone.

Slowly, the creature's mandibles gave way to a long sinuous tongue that wriggled into her mouth, pulsating and vibrating. Larissa closed her eyes and reveled in the sensation, the thin wisps of fur sprouting from the spores on her collarbone thickening as the reacted to her body's increasing arousal. She groaned as she felt the creature's thorax pin her waist down, the serrated tip of it's fleshy, pink appendage pressing against the armour on her crotch. Larissa fought to buck her hips up as she felt the crotch armour began to split and break. She ran her fingers through the fur around her neck and down over her collarbone. It had grown thick and long yet wonderfully soft. When her hands reached the skin of her breasts, they seemed sticky. She opened her eyes to look at her hand and saw thin strands of webbing trailing from her hands to her chest. Every inch of her exposed skin seemed lightly covered in the shimmering threads. She didn’t realize the spores had begun transforming her skin as such.

Panicking, Larissa tried to push her alien lover aside to get a better look at herself, but she could not budge him. She felt something warm and sticky in her mouth and she immediately began to relax back into the creature's embrace. She felt her crotch armour give way and something punch through her briefs and slither into her pussy. Her cry of surprise and delight was muffled by the mandibles in and around her mouth. As the creature slid its fleshy stinger back and forth in her, Larissa squirmed. The bumps and ridges raked at the inner walls of her vagina, the fleshy organ sending waves of pleasure crashing through her every nerve ending. Her skin tingled and her eyes watered as the avalanche of sensation pushed her to her limits. But Larissa wanted this. She dug deep and found the strength to push back.

Closing her eyes, Larissa squeezed her legs around the creature's thorax and set her own pace, her hips wildly gyrating as she rode the creature's cock as hard as she could. Another splatter of warmth filled her mouth, then another. As the creature's arousal increased, so to did the frequency with which it secreted the delicious nectar. Larissa did her best to lick the nectar from the insects mandibles between greedily swallowing mouthfuls of the bitter-sweet jelly. Larissa squeezed her tits and raked her fingers across her exposed flesh. As she did, the thin webbing peeled away to reveal shiny black carapace in place of her skin.

With a sharp trill, the insect withdrew it's fleshy stinger from Larissa's pussy. It dripped with the same jelly like nectar the creature's tongue had shot into her mouth, except it was Larissa who had produced this herself as her body began changing. She trilled and clicked back at the creature, no longer trying to communicate with words like a human. Instead she verbalized emotions. Want. Finish. Breed. Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing her eyes to be glassy black and bulging like the insects. She'd felt her tongue splitting apart earlier and now a clutch of mandibles and feelers of her own happily wriggled within her mouth. The increased sensitivity delighted her.

Seeing his mate becoming more like him, the insect happily chirped, its stinger growing stiff as it's tip opened like a flower. From the opening, a long, transparent ovipositor slithered free and writhed it's way into Larissa's pussy, snaking it's way deeper and deeper into her until it felt like it was buried in her womb. Exhausted by her earlier efforts and the transformation she was undergoing, Larissa lay there and took it. She moaned as she felt the ovipositor bulging and undulating, releasing a warm burst every couple of seconds as it began flooding her insides with its slimy secretion. Amongst the slime were clusters of dozens of eggs containing microscopic larvae that would hatch and bond to her Larissa's eggs, these parasites would then fertilize the egg and hybridize it, creating a human insect hybrid based on Larissa's altered DNA. Larissa did not know this yet and was simply overjoyed to feel herself being fertilized. Her lover chirped over and over again, queen, queen, queen. Every time she answered with an elated yes.

The pumping motion of the creature's ovipositor was exquisite and Larissa began tossing and turning as she teetered on the bring of a mind blowing orgasm. Her back itched where her wings were beginning to sprout and she could feel her body armour merging with her skin where she still had it on her arms and legs. The creature leaned down to kiss her, their mandibles and tongues caressing and dancing around one another. The ovipositor began to vibrate harder and harder, each load growing in volume before dumping one final enormous burst of warmth in Larissa. She threw her head back and screeched in delight.

The euphoria the creature had instilled in her with it's aphrodisiac spores and pheromones was abating and Larissa felt like herself again as the creature cuddled up to her. Like herself again and yet, different. Different because she had genuinely enjoyed every moment of what had just happened. She was pleasantly surprised by how content she was with what had happened to her mind and body. The new sensations, thoughts and impulses. As a human, she'd abhorred the idea of having children, but as an insect the prospect of spawning a hive as her lover's queen seemed like so much more fun than spending all her time fighting. He was attentive and caring, even know as they basked in the afterglow of their love-making. No human man had ever made her felt so complete. Larissa lovingly stroked his fur as she dozed off.

* * *

Outpost 38-S Status Report

Specimen status: following previous report, biological contaminant 223 appears to have completed modifications to subject. Hoskins, B no longer retains human feature of any sort at approx 36 hours after exposure.

Deactivation of containment cell in infirmary scheduled at 0800, sixty minutes after fire team leaves on assignment.

Contaminant 223 immediately leaves infirmary at 0800 and appears to roam the outpost at random before being drawn to the quarters of Team Leader Sile, L. Hidden camera observes contaminant 223 appears to become excited by traces of human female. Wings flush with colour, inferred by research team as indication of readiness or willingness to mate?

Contaminant 223 seeks to hide in Sile, L's wardrobe at 1830 as if it knows return is imminent.

Upon Team Leader's return at 1930, contaminant 223 engages Team Leader who appears to be almost immediately under it's influence.

Research team denotes spores secreted from the wings of contaminant 223 interact with Team Leder at this point.

Coitus ensues and intercourse appears to trigger biological change in Team Leader. Team notes what took 36 hours to happen to Hoskins, B happens to Sile, L within one standard hour.

Further research on male and female variables is required.

Research team infers that Hoskins, B took longer as contaminant 223 needed to adapt to human gene sequence which made Sile, L experience faster, more voluntary metamorphosis than 223.

Curious to note that Sile, L was still partially in type 38 crusader armour which has become fused with her form during coitus. Contaminant species may possess ability to bond to inorganic matter as adaptive counter-measure? Further study required.

After brief rest, both specimens break free of outpost 38-S at 2248, exiting via the window in Team Leader's quarters.

Both specimens now appearing flight capable with fully formed wings and instinctive knowledge of how to utilize them.

At 2300, fire team becomes aware of Team Leader's absence and is operational by 2308. Fire team proceeds to leave outpost on search and destroy mission but fails to return.

Presumed all hands lost.

Recommending next mission utilizes a team with 50/50 split of biological genders and releases six samples of contaminant 223 rather than a singular specimen. This should allow for greater insight into conversion rates and establish a baseline for both contaminant to human conversion as well as hybrid to human transmission and if gender has significant bearing on either.

Recommending greater precaution to track and detain next batch, recover assets Hoskins and Sile where possible to allow further study on contaminant 223 after extended periods of exposure and activity.

End log.

* * *

Larissa marveled at the silky tunnels and caverns her drones had spun. In such a short time, they had constructed a marvelous tower from bark and fungi within the jungle. As if vestiges of her human memories inspired them, her larvae had made a great silken throne for her in her chamber. Thankfully they'd left her and her lover there in peace as he ploughed his ovipositor into her once again. He had been fucking her every day they'd been here and at no point had their love-making become a bore. She chirped and cooed as she felt more of his eggs splashing into her womb.

After a week or so, she would lay the matured eggs with an ovipositor of her own. The clutch would swell and grow before hatching days later. Each egg releasing a five foot long fuzzy caterpillar that would build upon the hive with its silk, forage for food and bring it's offerings to the queen. Her eldest children had even spun silky cocoons and begun to metamorphosize into humanoid creatures like her and her partner.

Larger, armoured males and smaller flightless feminine figures taking shape as they shed their larval form. That made her heart swell with pride. Who knew how big her hive would become? Larissa adored this life. No bad attitudes, no smartasses to disrespect her. Her authority was absolute and she was adored. Nowhere else had Larissa ever truly felt that and she loved her mate dearly for bestowing such a wondrous new life upon her.

Larissa loved this planet…

[ladsofsorrow24]

a get to know you better meme

@loquatenjoyer69 tagged me so... why not. 🤷 thanks crow! <3

do you make your bed? not really, i just fix the bed cover if it's all over the place, but other than that, i left it how it is

what's your favourite number? 4? and 9? idk i don't have any superstition about numbers but 4 and 9 just look nice to me hehe

what is your job? the only job i have these days is drawing comm, so... nope i'm unemployed... 🥲

If you could go back to school would you? nah... not really. i like learning new shit, but i don't like following rules

can you parallel park? i am afraid of driving.

a job you had that would surprise people? customer service. i am a pretty volatile person.

do you think aliens are real? kinda? never saw them but this world is weird as it is, aliens just make sense. but i don't think they wanna come to earth tho humanity aren't as interesting as hollywood make us to be

can you drive a manual car? i am afraid of driving, and the only car i know how to drive is auto. even then i am still scared.

what's your guilty pleasure? idk i always feel guilty about anything i like lmao

tattoos? nope. first, because of religious reasons. second, i'm scared of needles.

favourite colour? lately, it's red and black. blue as an accent color is nice too. i always say my favorite colors is the spectrum between red to blue

favourite type of music? i like rock and metal... pop is good but most of them are pretty predictable to me. jazz and orchestral is pretty damn good too but it doesn't inspire me much compared to rock and metal tho

do you like puzzles? played windows solitaire until level 100+ so i think i can say yes to this haha

any phobias? fucking... cockroaches. or any insects really, i can't stand em, if i look at one somehow i can just feel em crawling on my skin... 😖

favourite childhood sport? i like badminton... i miss playing em. also cycling... i love that, but i can still remember getting into too many accidents lol so i try not to like it too much

do you talk to yourself? all the time. sometimes it's two to three voices talking at the same time. and the other voices will code switch from my native tongue to english because ofc my brain just love doing that... for no reason 🙄

what movie(s) do you adore? oh so many of them... Happy Together, Gonin, Sympathy for Lady Vengeance, Mad Max Fury Road, Ghost in The Shell, End of Evangelion and many more but i forgot...

coffee or tea? really love coffee before... but i got hospitalized for one day from drinking too much so nowadays i don't really drink em. not really fond of tea, it taste too... clean to me.

first thing you wanted to be growing up? an artist. look where i am now. lol

tagging @righteousdelusions @b1uetrees @yayee-prsp @rose-colored-sd if you guys wanna do it too

[doriandistortion]

My favorite quotes

Things might not get any better but they may get a little easier - I hate sports by I hate sex

When I talk they say I'm preaching cause I'm passionate when I speak - set to stun

Bad men make their own rules and only dead men can tell not tales - set to stun

That memory is just a tinkle in the toilet - it came to me in a dream

Some people make an art of watching life pass by.

My body is a witch, I am burning it

Everything is gonna burn. Well all get turns, I'Il get mine too.

If ignorance is bliss I wish I were blissfully ignorant - dear ms. Leading - the dear

I see the horns they follow me down god fell silent when I cried out - mistakes like fractures

My tombstone was made at birth my coffin is on my back - deadringer knocked loose

The once weak will one day rule the world - Charlie by million dead

I know when it's time to let the dog decide - a werewolf by attic abasement

I distrust a mattress that smells like it feels. We can unmake the bed and we can reinvent the wheel - a werewolf

Well, you can tell by the way I move my feet that I'm a genuine insurrectionary

It's a kind of nervous shuffle that contrasts so well with bolsavic bravado - I am the party by million dead

My knife wants to hide deep inside of you - counting by heavens

I drink myself to death to be the after life of the party - love me normally by will wood

When I die I want you to die too - we will commit wolf murder by of Montreal

I envy you because you can believe in things like I never could - we will commit wolf murder

I love you, Maurice but I used to be quite a happy person before I met you. - flowers

The sadness will last forever - Vincent VanGough

Happiness became a chore - Roy's our boy by charmer

Summer without you is as cold as winter. Winter without you, is even colder - for Beatrice by Lemony Snicket

The world is quiet here - a series of unfortunate events

I know that you wish you were sick but there are so many ways of being more disappointing - Kali Masi

You watch me like a ten car highway wreck with detached. vulgar curiosity

This looking down at the tops of the hats of us passers-by from your 7th floor balcony

And from such a height you missed creatures too small for sight carry on covert conversations

As the misguided insects crown me their grasshopper king with a dance of celebration - January 1979 by mewithoutyou

Honey, it's depressing what depression does to some. - jawbreaker

Numb, some call it. Now, me and Jesus, we like to feel pain - ecifircas by SewersIvt

Everything will be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end. - 1899

Last of the pitchers, catfish done hunting, Harry Lundt Most of the killers never get famous and it's hard on everyone - Chinatown by jets to Brazil

I want a cut scene - beach life in death

If you cant find your friends, you can leave without them and if you run out of drugs, you can sleep without them And if you wanna go home, you can call a taxi. And if you don't wanna talk, you can sit in the backseat - car seat headrest live at rock the garden

Came a time when every star fall brought you to tears again - helena by MCR

Let's talk about all our friends who lost the war and all the novels that had yet to be written about them. - the good that won't come out by rilo kiley

I was a hater in the depths of an emotional hibernation - first time high by of Montreal

A dull mind can’t cut you. Sleeping dogs won't bite. - spinning wheel by worthikids

How senseless death, How precious life - king park

I've been asleep for half my life but l'm awake now I make mistakes and I make them well, I make 'em big so as to shake the ground by uhhhmm??? I’ll edit this later lmao

I've found that the road to happiness is paved with rows and rows of very tempting parking spaces - call me what you like by lovejoy

I honestly wanna prove improvement's possible - against the kitchen floor by will wood

I'm wide awake, it's morning! - road to joy by bright eyes

I wish I was like you, easily amused - all apologies by nirvana

People like you find it easy - atmosphere by joy division

I will speak for you, Father. I speak for all mediocrities in the world. I am their champion. I am their patron saint. - salieri in Amadeus

Focus on what is ahead and step forward. - zenophelion on tumblr (your demons have good advice actually)

Some make exhaustion a mode of expression and that's their way - Chinatown jets to Brazil

Your entire life can change in a year @bmekween on TikTok

Just to prove that I adore every inch of sanity - drowning lessons MCR

I need to recycle all the feelings I had in the past - Kylie by bear vs. shark

Thy firmness makes my circle just, and makes me end where I begin - everything was beautiful … by mewithoutyou

The time is coming where you won’t feel like you do now - woolworm by Indian summer except that part is sung by a woman who was sampled

I wanna be a horse full of fire that will never train - pig by Sparklehorse

It’s hard to remember to live before you die - lives - modest mouse

If you could be anything I bet you’d be disappointed am I right? - lives - modest mouse

Good luck with your fight

Promise me the sun will rise again - washer by slint

I am a beast among machines - set to stun

If I’ve got nothing to live for, then I’ve got nothing to die for - doomsday by set to stun

YOU CAN TALK THE TALK BUT CAN YOU WALK THE WALK MOTHERFUCKER!!! - staria II - set to stun

[snzcarrental]

What Everyone Must Know About Car Rental in Mauritius ?

Introduction

Renting a car in Mauritius can transform your travel experience, offering freedom and flexibility to explore this beautiful island at your own pace. Whether you’re visiting for leisure or business, understanding the ins and outs of car rental in Mauritius will ensure a smooth and enjoyable trip.

Mauritius Geographical Information

Location

Mauritius is an island nation in the Indian Ocean, located about 2,000 kilometers off the southeast coast of the African continent. Its location makes it a tropical paradise with lush landscapes and stunning beaches.

Climate

Mauritius enjoys a tropical climate, characterized by warm weather year-round. The summer months (November to April) are hot and humid, while the winter months (May to October) are cooler and drier. The best time to visit depends on your preferences for temperature and rainfall.

Best Times to Visit

The ideal time to visit Mauritius is during the cooler, drier months from May to October. However, the island’s beauty is accessible year-round, with each season offering unique experiences and attractions.

Must-Visit Attractions in Mauritius Island

Beaches

Mauritius is famous for its pristine beaches. Top spots include Trou aux Biches, Belle Mare, and Le Morne. These beaches offer crystal-clear waters, perfect for swimming, snorkeling, and sunbathing.

Nature Reserves

The island is home to several nature reserves, such as Black River Gorges National Park and Île aux Aigrettes. These areas offer opportunities for hiking, bird watching, and experiencing the island’s unique flora and fauna.

Historical Sites

Mauritius boasts a rich history reflected in sites like Aapravasi Ghat, a UNESCO World Heritage site, and the colonial-era Château de Labourdonnais. Exploring these locations provides insight into the island’s past.

Activities and Experiences

Water Sports

Cheap car rental in Mauritius offers a wide range of water sports, including scuba diving, kite surfing, and deep-sea fishing. The island’s clear waters and vibrant marine life make it a paradise for enthusiasts.

Adventure Tours

For the adventurous, activities like hiking Le Morne Brabant, exploring Chamarel’s colored earth, and zip-lining through the forest canopy are a must.

Cultural Tours

Cultural tours can take you to traditional markets, temples, and museums. These tours often include tasting local foods and learning about the island’s diverse heritage.

Mauritius Car Rental Travel Tips

Accommodation

Mauritius car rental offers a range of accommodations from luxury resorts to budget-friendly guesthouses. Booking in advance, especially during peak seasons, is recommended.

Transport

While renting a car provides the most flexibility, Mauritius also has reliable public transportation and taxi services. Be sure to understand local driving laws if you choose to rent a vehicle.

Packing

Pack lightweight, breathable clothing for the warm climate, along with sunscreen, insect repellent, and a hat. Comfortable walking shoes are also recommended for exploring the island.

Safety and Health Precautions

Safety Tips

Mauritius car rental services are generally safe for tourists, but it’s always best to take precautions. Avoid isolated areas at night, secure your belongings, and be cautious when swimming in unfamiliar waters.

Health Tips

No vaccinations are required for entry, but it’s advisable to be up-to-date on routine vaccines. Drinking bottled water and using insect repellent can help prevent illness.

Budget Planning

Cost-Effective Travel

Mauritius can be a budget-friendly destination if planned well. Opt for local eateries, use public transport, and take advantage of free or low-cost attractions.

Currency

The Mauritian Rupee (MUR) is the local currency. Credit cards are widely accepted, but it’s useful to carry some cash for smaller purchases and in rural areas.

Car Rental in Mauritius

Why Rent a Car in Mauritius?

Renting a car provides the freedom to explore Mauritius at your own pace, access remote locations, and create a personalized itinerary.

Rental Requirements

To rent a car in Mauritius, you typically need:

A valid driver’s license (international licenses are generally accepted).

A credit card for the security deposit.

Proof of age (usually at least 21 years old, with some companies requiring drivers to be 25 or older).

Types of Rental Cars

Rental companies offer a range of vehicles, from compact cars to SUVs. Choose based on your travel plans and the number of passengers.

Insurance Options

Rental companies provide various insurance options. Basic coverage is often included, but consider additional insurance for more comprehensive protection.

Rental Companies

Reputable car rental companies in Mauritius include:

Avis

Budget

Europcar

Hertz

Sixt

Booking Tips

Book Early: Especially during peak tourist seasons.

Compare Prices: Use online comparison tools to find the best deals.

Check Reviews: Look for reviews of rental companies to ensure reliability and good service.

Driving in Mauritius

Road Conditions

Mauritius car rental has a well-maintained road network, but some rural areas may have narrower or unpaved roads. Drive cautiously, especially in unfamiliar areas.

Traffic Laws

Drive on the Left: As in the UK, driving is on the left side of the road.

Speed Limits: Generally, 40 km/h in towns and villages, 80 km/h on main roads, and 110 km/h on highways.

Seat Belts: Mandatory for all passengers.

Parking

Parking is generally available in towns and cities, with both free and paid options. Ensure you park in designated areas to avoid fines.

Navigating

GPS systems and mobile apps like Google Maps are useful for navigation. Road signs are in English and easy to follow.

Cost of Car Rental in Mauritius

Average Rates

Car rental rates vary based on the type of vehicle and rental duration. Expect to pay between MUR 1,000 to MUR 3,000 per day.

Additional Costs

Be aware of additional costs such as insurance, fuel, and extra driver fees. Always read the rental agreement carefully.

Fuel

Fuel prices in Mauritius are moderate. Most cars run on unleaded petrol, available at numerous fuel stations across the island.

Conclusion

Renting a car in Mauritius offers unparalleled freedom to explore this stunning island. By understanding the rental process, local driving conditions, and essential travel tips, you can ensure a safe and enjoyable experience. Whether you’re lounging on the beach, hiking through lush landscapes, or immersing yourself in the local culture, a rental car can make your Mauritian adventure truly unforgettable.

FAQs

Is it safe to drive in Mauritius car rental?

Yes, driving in Mauritius is generally safe. Roads are well-maintained, and traffic laws are strictly enforced. However, always drive cautiously and follow local traffic rules.

Do I need an international driver’s license?

An international driver’s license is recommended but not mandatory. Most car rental companies accept valid driver’s licenses from your home country.

Can I rent a car if I am under 25?

Rental policies vary, but many companies require drivers to be at least 25 years old. Some may allow younger drivers with an additional fee.

What should I do in case of an accident?

In case of an accident, contact the local police and your rental company immediately. Follow their instructions and complete any required paperwork.

[sitron-sunni]

a get to know you better meme

tagged by @dummerjan, tysm!<33

do you make your bed? no.

what's your favourite number? Four! No reason behind it, I've just always really liked four.

what is your job? don't have one

If you could go back to school, would you? I'm in school! I actually had to drop out for several long years due to chronic illness. I had to move to find a school willing to provide accommodations, but I got started again with online classes almost three years ago. Now, I'm finally (finally!!), wrapping up my last subject for upper secondary school, which qualifies me for higher education. I literally sent in my application for art school last night<3 Everything is terrifying but also exciting but also terrifying but also there's no other way but forward, so.

can you parallel park? nope, I can't drive.

a job you had that would surprise people? Have not had any jobs.

do you think aliens are real? Well yes. the universe is infinitely big, I do believe some form of life exists out there, whether single-cell organisms or a more intelligent species. Do I think they came over here and built the pyramids? no. no i do not.

can you drive a manual car? still can't drive...

what's your guilty pleasure? i don't know, do i have one? I like lots of things people might find cringe, like, 80's love ballads or early one direction songs, but I wouldn't say there's anything I think of as a guilty pleasure.

tattoos? can look really cool on other people, though they're not necessarily something I'm inherently attracted to. also, they are not meant for me. I'm too indescisive, too afraid of making a mistake, and too aware of how changeable I am. I hope I keep growing and changing for the rest of my life, and I don't wanna put marks on my body that define me as someone I've moved away from, if that makes sense.

that being said, there are some tattoo artists i follow on instagram whose work i really like. People who do the loveliest watercolour work, people with insane colors, people with gorgeous, folk art-style. If I had to get a tatto, I would go to one of them, and let them dream up something wonderful.

favourite colour? yellow! yellow-y orange! sunlight!<3

favourite type of music? I think spotify usually tells me it's some type of folk indie pop rock-thing, but it's easier to answer the reverse: I don't really listen to opera, screamo/heavy metal or dubstep/edm. Aside from that? I love gathering artists and songs of all different styles from all over the world in all different languages. I'm eclectic at heart.

do you like puzzles? yes, although it's a struggle to do physical puzzles as I can't seem to find a spot with good lighting. But I've done lots of digital puzzles and they're fun.

any phobias? my fear of insects has gotten progressivley worse. specifically the crawling ones. especially if they have lots of legs, and are fast. ughhhh. does it classify as a phobia? idk.

favourite childhood sport? the words 'childhood' and 'sport' in combination are rarely associated with enjoyment for me. idk. we played a game similar to baseball sometimes, that would probably have to be the one but... I've never really been a sports-person...

do you talk to yourself? Hm. rarely out loud, but often in my head.

what movie(s) do you adore? the first lotr movie = ultimate comfort movie. Mamma mia, pretty woman, notting hill, wild child = fond childhood memories w/ my mom. Billy Elliot and the way back are two movies I've watched several times and really really enjoyed, like they just stand out in my mind. Divines, which I stumbled across on netflix, is possibly my fave. If I were to rec someone one movie, it would be that one. I just think it's good. I vibe with it.

coffee or tea? coffee, I cannot stand tea.

first thing you wanted to be growing up? A hairdresser, maybe? and I wanted to be a designer for several years after I read the book threads by sophia bennett, lol. Grew out of that one around 13/14 i think.

tagging whoever sees this and wants to do it!<3

[bulldog-steel-structures]

A Strong Shed: The Advantages of Choosing a Metal Garage Building

A metal garage is more than just a storage space. It provides continuity, versatility, and peace of mind. In this article, we dive into the world of metal garages and explore their benefits, uses, and reasons for their growing popularity among homeowners. 

For many homeowners and property owners, a metal garage building is more than just a place to park a car. It is a diverse and sustainable space that offers a variety of uses. Whether you're a car enthusiast, a weekend warrior, or just need some backup storage space, prefabricated steel structures (commonly referred to as metal garages) are ideal and may lead to negative results. 

Source

Advantages of Choosing Metal Garage

Cost-effective

Metal garages are generally more affordable than mortar structures, making them an economical choice for your new space. Although the initial cost of a metal garage may seem higher than a traditional rustic building, the long-term benefits far outweigh the direct investment. When you consider the regular maintenance and repair costs associated with rustic cabins, these costs add up quickly over time.

Durability

Steel is incredibly strong and withstands the elements like wind, rain, snow, and even fire. You can basically make sure your belongings are safe. Metal garages are built to last. Constructed from high-quality steel, it provides unparalleled strength and integrity compared to traditional rustic designs. Whether it's scorching heat, pouring rain, or heavy snow, a metal garage will keep your valuables safe.

Low Maintenance 

Metal requires minimal maintenance compared to wood. Occasional brushing with a sock is usually sufficient. Compared to traditional rustic buildings, metal garages require minimal maintenance. There is no need for regular lubrication, painting, or sealing. Due to its steel construction, it requires little maintenance. With proper care, metal garages can last for decades and stand the test of time. 

Versatility 

Metal garages are not limited to storing vehicles. It can be used in stores, workshops, warehouses, sports halls, and even home services. With the right settings, the possibilities are endless. From size and shape to color and accessories, metal garages can be customized to suit your specific environment and add a functional and aesthetic accent to your property. 

Customization options 

Various manufacturers offer dynamic sizes, styles, and customization options to meet your specific needs. Choose different door styles and roof designs, and add windows for natural light. Unlike wood, which is susceptible to moisture, insects, and deterioration, steel remains intact, and icing your garage will maintain its structural integrity for years to come. Investing in a metal garage will not only give you results in your warehouse. You are making a long-term investment in the value and longevity of your property. 

Expert Tips

Accurately measure the available space on your property and choose a size that fits your needs with little room for future expansion. 

Contact your original building department for any permits or zoning restrictions related to installing a metal garage. 

Different types of foundations are suitable for metal garages, depending on soil conditions and use. 

Consult your contractor for instructions. Proper installation is essential to protect your metal garage from high winds and other elements. 

Some metal garages are prefabricated, while others are prefabricated. Consider your DIY abilities and budget when choosing your options.

Get it Done

Browse online shopping sites and manufacturer's websites to get an idea of ​​the different styles and options available. Plan your ideal metal garage by considering the location and use of your property.

Get quotes from several trusted metal garage suppliers to find a stylish solution that meets your needs. Don't forget about add-ons, consider adding features like isolation, ventilation systems, lighting, and even overhead storage to maximize the functionality of your space.

Wrapping Up!

In conclusion, metal garages are more than just storage, they demonstrate durability, versatility, and peace of mind. With unparalleled continuity, low storage requirements, and custom design, metal garages offer homeowners a practical and cost-effective outcome tailored to their property's needs.

A metal garage is a valuable investment that can add functionality and value to your property. Remember to choose a reputable steel building provider like Bulldog Steel Structures for an effective steel building solution. With its continuity, versatility, and affordability, prefabricated steel structures could be the key to unlocking the extra space you've been utilizing. So get out of the bushy cottage and explore the world of metal garages. A world of possibilities awaits you!

[safethaw]

Choosing Deck Wood: Top 3 Picks.

Ah, the deck. That cozy little extension of our homes where memories are crafted and morning coffees taste just a tad bit better. But, selecting the right wood for that haven? Now, that's an adventure and a half. 1. The Vintage Vibes: Cedar Have you ever stumbled upon an old vinyl record and just felt the nostalgia? That’s cedar wood for deck for you. - Guarded by Mother Nature: Cedar doesn’t just sit pretty; it's a fortress against decay and bugs. It’s like that vintage leather jacket - stylish and durable. - That Visual Treat: Cedar’s appearance? A beautiful mishmash of rich colors and patterns. Whether you let it age gracefully or dress it in stain, it's pure aesthetic pleasure. - Elegance on a Budget: And the best part? It's luxury but without that lavish price tag. Win-win, right? 2. Redwood: The Robust Rockstar If cedar’s the classic tune, redwood’s the electric guitar riff that makes the wood for deck track unforgettable. - Strength Meets Beauty: Redwood is like that underdog sports car with an engine that surprises everyone. It resists wear and tear while looking effortlessly chic. - Nature’s Moisturizer: Thanks to its unique oils, redwood stays younger for longer and scoffs at rot and insects. - Pay a Bit, Get a Lot: Sure, it’s on the pricier side, but man, does it pay off in the long run. 3. Pine's Alter Ego: Pressure-Treated Pine Introducing the unsung hero of the decking world, the ever-reliable pressure-treated pine. - Under Pressure, It Thrives: It’s pine, but with a PhD in durability. Enhanced and ready to tackle all threats, making it perfect wood for deck. - Your Wallet's BFF: Getting quality without emptying your pockets? Yes, please. - Needs that Occasional Pep Talk: Look, it's tough, but even heroes need some pampering. Seal it, nurture it, and watch it shine. Facing Winter’s Chilly Temper? Here’s A Pro Tip Winter. It’s all fun, games, and snowball fights until your deck gets the chills. Tossing salt or random chemicals might seem tempting, but it's kinda like feeding candy to a baby. Quick fix, but not great in the long run. Enter Safe Thaw. A Deck’s Knight In Icy Armor. - Whisperer to the Woods: Safe Thaw treats your deck like royalty. It melts the ice and keeps the wood's integrity. - Magic in a Bottle: With its uber-cool formula - crystalline amide with a dash of glycol - this isn’t just any ice melt. It’s deck-friendly magic. - No Drama, Just Results: And rest easy. With Safe Thaw, there's zero stress about corroding stuff or any electric shocks. Your space is safe, and your machinery's even safer. Final Whistle Picking the wood for decks, and then protecting it from the elements - it’s quite the journey. But as the snow blankets your yard and your deck stands tall, a mug of cocoa in hand, you'll know every decision, every plank, was worth it. Cheers to that! Read the full article

[ppfcalgary]

5 Reasons Why Paint Protection Film Is Your Car's Best Friend

In the world of automotive care, there’s a hidden hero that often doesn’t get the attention it deserves: Paint Protection Film (PPF). This transparent layer of protection has been revolutionizing the way car owners preserve the integrity and beauty of their vehicles. From shielding against road debris to maintaining that showroom shine, PPF is truly a car’s best friend. Let’s delve into five compelling reasons why every car owner should consider investing in this innovative solution.

Preservation of Aesthetic Appeal: Your car's paint job is more than just a coat of color; it's a statement of style and sophistication. However, the road can be a harsh environment, with gravel, rocks, insects, and other debris waiting to leave their mark on your pristine finish. PPF acts as an invisible barrier, absorbing the impact of these elements and preventing scratches, chips, and stains from marring your car's surface. With PPF in place, you can enjoy peace of mind knowing that your vehicle's aesthetic appeal will remain intact for years to come.

Long-Term Cost Savings: While some may view PPF as an additional expense, it’s essential to recognize the long-term cost-saving benefits it provides. Consider the expenses associated with repairing paint damage: repainting panels, filling in chips, and buffing out scratches can quickly add up. By investing in PPF upfront, you’re proactively safeguarding your car against potential damage, ultimately saving you money on future repairs. Additionally, Paint Protection Film (PPF) Calgary helps maintain your vehicle's resale value by preserving its original paint condition, making it a wise investment for both the present and the future.

Enhanced Durability: Modern vehicles are subjected to a myriad of environmental hazards, from UV rays to harsh weather conditions. PPF serves as a durable shield, offering protection against fading, discoloration, and oxidation caused by prolonged exposure to the sun. Furthermore, it’s resistant to chemicals, ensuring that accidental spills or splatters won’t compromise your car's finish. With PPF guarding your vehicle, you can drive with confidence, knowing that it’s equipped to withstand whatever the road throws its way.

Easy Maintenance: Maintaining a flawless exterior isn’t just about aesthetics; it’s also about ease of upkeep. PPF simplifies the cleaning process by providing a smooth, non-porous surface that repels dirt, grime, and water. Unlike traditional waxing or sealants, which require frequent reapplication, PPF offers long-lasting protection with minimal maintenance. A simple wash with soap and water is all it takes to keep your car looking brand new, allowing you to spend less time cleaning and more time enjoying the open road.

Customizable Solutions: One of the most significant advantages of PPF is its versatility. Whether you drive a sleek sports car or a rugged SUV, there’s a PPF solution tailored to your vehicle's specific needs. From full-body coverage to targeted applications for high-impact areas, such as the hood, fenders, and side mirrors, PPF can be customized to provide the level of protection you desire. Additionally, advancements in technology have led to the development of self-healing PPF, which can repair minor scratches and swirl marks with the application of heat. With customizable options available, you can tailor your PPF installation to suit your lifestyle and driving habits.

In conclusion, Paint Protection Film is not just a luxury; it's a practical investment that offers a multitude of benefits for car owners. From preserving your vehicle's aesthetic appeal to providing long-term cost savings and enhanced durability, PPF is a true ally in the quest to keep your car looking its best. With easy maintenance and customizable solutions, there’s no reason not to embrace the protection and peace of mind that PPF provides. So, the next time you hit the road, remember that your car's best friend is right there, invisibly guarding against the elements and preserving its beauty for miles to come.

[infinitepack]

From Picnics to Pain Relief: The Endless Uses of an Ice Bag (All Sizes)

Ice bags are like the silent heroes of keeping cool. Traditionally, they come out to play on hot summer days, filled with ice, and packed into the cooler for a family picnic or barbecue. But what if I told you that the uses of an ice bag go far beyond just keeping potato salad from spoiling? Ice bags in all their glorious sizes—8lbs, 10lbs, 20lbs—can serve an array of different needs, from everyday convenience to surprising pain relief methods. They're not just for the casual summer outing; they're versatile tools for anyone looking to ease discomfort in various aspects of life.

Beyond the Basics: Common Uses for Ice Bags (All Sizes)

Food & Beverage

The legendary ice bag is a go-to for ensuring that your beverages are chilled to perfection and your food stays fresh. Whether you're going on a road trip, heading for a campground, or simply carrying your lunch to work, an ice bag is a reliable companion to prevent soured milk or warm sandwiches. In the case of perishable goods, using an appropriately sized ice bag ensures they stay at a safe temperature, avoiding potential food poisoning.

Injury Relief

Old-fashioned remedies are often the most effective, and when it comes to injuries, few things beat the soothing relief of a well-packed ice bag. For minor muscle strains, sprains, or even the aftermath of a hard-fought soccer match, the 10lbs size fits perfectly against the pained area, reducing swelling and providing icy numbing comfort.

Headaches & Toothaches

There’s a particular kind of agony that comes with headaches and toothaches, radiating discomfort that can derail your day. An ice bag pressed against the temples or cheek can offer temporary relief by constricting blood vessels and numbing the area. It acts as a natural painkiller without the need for medication, comforting and cooling the source of your anguish.

Sunburns & Bug Bites

While prevention is key, sometimes the sun and the insects get the better of us. In these moments, an 8lbs ice bag can come in handy, gently calming the burn or itch, and reducing inflammation. The cool touch delivers a refreshing respite from the irritated skin, making a significant difference in comfort levels.

Sports Recovery

Serious athletes and weekend warriors alike know that recovery is just as important as the workout itself. After vigorous activity, an 8lbs ice bag strategically placed on sore muscles can hasten recovery by reducing inflammation. The cooling effect helps lessen pain and promotes the body’s natural healing processes, getting you back in the game in no time.

DIY Projects

Believe it or not, ice bags play a vital role in the world of DIY. Whether you're into crafting or home repairs, the 8lbs size is particularly useful for quick cooling needs. It can be used to solidify glue quickly, set resin or plaster in molds, and can even act as a makeshift heat sink for laptops during intense gaming sessions.

Size Matters: Specific Uses for Different Ice Bag Sizes

The 8lbs Ice Bag

This pint-sized 8 lbs ice bags pack of cooling power is perfect for everyday use. It fits snug in a lunch tote, can be wrapped in a cloth for muscle pain relief, or even kept in the car for those unexpected moments when a cold pack is needed.

The 10lbs Ice Bag

A medium-size 10 lbs ice bag is your best friend at social gatherings and outdoor events. It’s great for a larger cooler, can be shared between multiple people, or thrown over a bottle of wine when unexpected guests drop by and you realize the Chardonnay is at room temperature.

The 20lbs Ice Bag

When it comes to all-day events, large parties, or extreme muscle soreness after a marathon, the 20lbs ice bag pack is what you need. It provides ample cooling for a large cooler, stands as your main source of cold treatment for severe injuries, and can even help keep an Olympic-size pool cool. (Note: This last one may be a slight exaggeration.)

Creative & Unexpected Uses

The versatility of ice bags extends to the realms of self-care, culinary delights, and even plant health. Imagine the surprise of finding an ice bag tucked next to the cosmetics in a fashion photo shoot or as a crucial ingredient in a chef's quick-fix ice cream recipe.

Skincare

For those mornings when you wake up with puffy eyes, or if you're trying to achieve a Hollywood glow before a big event, placing an 8lbs ice bag over your face can help reduce puffiness and temporarily tighten the skin. It’s the kind of at-home spa treatment that’s both simple and effective.

Baked Goods

Love the taste of homemade ice cream but hate the churn time? Pour your ice cream or gelato base into a ziplock bag, submerge it in an ice bag filled with ice, shake it, turn it, and voilà—quick, no-churn ice cream. The ice bag provides the necessary chilling without your needing an ice cream machine.

Plant Care

Plants are living creatures, and like humans, they appreciate a little TLC now and then. An ice bag (ideally filled with tiny cubes or crushed ice) can be your plant's saving grace during heatwaves. Simply drape a cloth over the bag, place it near wilted leaves, and watch as the icy water vapor helps perk them up.

Pro Tips & Considerations

Selecting the Right Size Ice Bag

For minor injuries or day-to-day uses, the 8lbs bag is usually sufficient. If you’re catering a small event or need more chilled space in your cooler, the 10lbs is versatile and practical. The 20lbs, while not as common, serves a powerful punch when extended cooling is a must.

Wrapping in Towels

Direct contact with ice can lead to frostbite or skin irritation. Wrapping the ice bag in a towel not only prevents this but also distributes the cold more evenly for a comfortable experience.

Ice Varieties

The type of ice can affect the application. Gel packs may be more convenient for certain pain relief methods, while crushed or cube ice is better for keeping food and beverages cool. Each has its use, so choose wisely.

Repurposing and Maintenance

An eco-friendly approach to reusing ice bags includes regular cleanings and inspections. After their renewed purpose as an ice pack, consider washing them out and allow them to dry thoroughly. Store them in a cool, dry place for future use.

Conclusion: Unleash the Power of Ice Bags

The humble ice bag, once relegated to the sidelines of the cooler, deserves a second look. As we've explored, it's not just for picnic drinks or sprained ankles; it’s a multi-tool capable of serving a diverse range of needs. From its basic role as a cooler companion to a surprising extra in the daily routine, an ice bag can be a lifesaver in myriad situations.

My challenge to you is to go forth and discover the unconventional and unique uses for ice bags in your own life. What creative ways can you incorporate this simple tool? Feel free to share your discoveries in the comments below, and together, we can build a library of ice bag innovations. Remember, when life gets hot, there’s always an ice bag close by, waiting to lend a chill hand.

[shilohholidays]

Thailand, Malaysia, Singapore Tour Package

Welcome to an  Amazing Adventure!

     Are you ready to embark on a journey that combines the rich cultural tapestry of Thailand, the modern wonders of Malaysia, and the futuristic charm of Singapore? Our exclusive tour package is designed to immerse you in these three incredible destinations' vibrant landscapes, delectable cuisines, and captivating traditions.

Tour Itinerary

Day 1-4: Singapore City Tour, Night Safar

The Night Safari is the world's first nocturnal zoo one of the most popular tourist attractions in Singapore.

 Sentosa Island man-made island that was built for fun and recreation, Many attractions on offer at Sentosa are the expansive Resorts World, Universal Studios Singapore, Tiger Sky Tower, Singapore Butterfly & Insect Kingdom, and one of the largest collections of aquatic animals in the world, SEA Aquarium, then move the garden by the bay.

Day 5-7: Singapore to Kuala Lumpur

Visit Petronas Twin Tower (photo stop), King Palace (visit stop), National Monument (visit stop), National Mosque (visit stop), KL Tower (with entrance), and shopping stops at the Handicraft Center, Cocoa Wholesale Boutique, Centre Market, and Souvenir Shop. Genting Highland Tour with a 2-way cable car ride En route to Genting Highland, stop to visit Batu Caves (30 minutes), Royal Pewter Selangor, and Geneva.

Day 8-12: Malaysia to Thailand  

 Golden beaches, lots of islands off the coast, lively marketplaces, wild nightlife, and exhilarating water sports.

 Phi-Phi Island tour the jungle-shrouded limestone cliffs of Thailand’s Phi-Phi Islands rise majestically, giving way to white-sand beaches and lush green jungles further inland.

Bangkok and proceed to Pattaya to visit Tiger Park, where you can enjoy the Alcazar Dance Show.

Thailand’s capital is a large city known for ornate shrines and vibrant street life in Bangkok Chao Phraya Cruise (optional), one of the most exhilarating experiences in Bangkok.

Visit the Gems Gallery and two Buddhist temples called Emerald Buddha and Golden Buddha. 

Budget and Inclusions:

Our all-inclusive package covers accommodations, transportation, select meals, and guided tours. Contact us for optional add-ons and personalized experiences.

Why Choose Our Tour Package:

Expertly crafted itinerary for a seamless travel experience.

Knowledgeable local guides provide insights into each destination.

Small group sizes for an intimate and personalized journey.

Book Your Southeast Asian Adventure Today!

Ready to embark on a once-in-a-lifetime journey through Thailand, Malaysia, and Singapore? Contact us to book your tour package and create lasting memories in Southeast Asia.

Follow us on Instagram and Facebook for more travel inspiration and updates on Shiloh Travels & Tours!

[gloriabomfim]

Certainly, let's start with the first 9 montages, complete with titles, actions, and dialogue transcripts for each:

Montage 1: "Bumpy's Tiny Misadventure"

Action: Bumpy stumbles upon a miniature model of the city and mistakes it for the real thing.

Dialogue: Bumpy: "Wow, this city looks different today!"

Montage 2: "Bumpy vs. Oversized Insects"

Action: Bumpy encounters giant insects in the tiny world and tries to flee, leading to slapstick injuries.

Dialogue: Bumpy: "Why are the bugs here so big? Ouch!"

Montage 3: "Bumpy's Miniature Parade"

Action: Bumpy joins a tiny parade of miniature cars, unaware of their small size.

Dialogue: Bumpy: "I'm in a parade! Wait, why are these cars so tiny?"

Montage 4: "Bumpy's Tightrope Walk"

Action: Bumpy attempts a high-wire act between matchsticks, resulting in comical falls.

Dialogue: Bumpy: "I've got great balance…or not!"

Montage 5: "Bumpy's Pint-Sized Adventure"

Action: Bumpy explores a miniature amusement park and has hilarious encounters with tiny rides.

Dialogue: Bumpy: "This roller coaster is… miniature-sized!"

Montage 6: "Bumpy's Mini Golf Mishap"

Action: Bumpy plays mini golf but struggles with the tiny golf club and ball.

Dialogue: Bumpy: "I can't even hit the mini golf ball!"

Montage 7: "Bumpy in a Tiny Café"

Action: Bumpy dines at a tiny café, causing chaos as he tries to interact with miniature utensils.

Dialogue: Bumpy: "I need a microscope for these utensils!"

Montage 8: "Bumpy's Picnic with Mini Ants"

Action: Bumpy sits down for a picnic but is surprised when ants appear giant-sized to him.

Dialogue: Bumpy: "Hey, who invited the jumbo ants?"

Montage 9: "Bumpy's Mini Concert"

Action: Bumpy ends up on a tiny stage and tries to perform, but the instruments are too small.

Dialogue: Bumpy: "I've got big talent, but tiny instruments!"

These are the first nine montages with titles, actions, and dialogue transcripts. If you'd like to continue with the next set of montages or have any specific changes or ideas in mind, please let me know!

Certainly, here are the titles, actions, and dialogue transcripts for montages 10-19:

Montage 10: "Bumpy's Miniature Movie Set"

Action: Bumpy stumbles onto a tiny movie set and hilariously interferes with the mini actors.

Dialogue: Bumpy: "I guess I'm the new action star, in a mini-movie!"

Montage 11: "Bumpy's Tiny Safari"

Action: Bumpy embarks on a mini-safari but encounters hilariously oversized toy animals.

Dialogue: Bumpy: "These aren't real animals, they're just toys! Ow!"

Montage 12: "Bumpy's Lilliputian Library"

Action: Bumpy visits a mini-library and tries to read miniature books with comical results.

Dialogue: Bumpy: "I can barely read this tiny text!"

Montage 13: "Bumpy's Toy Town Tournament"

Action: Bumpy unwittingly participates in a mini-sports tournament and faces off against tiny competitors.

Dialogue: Bumpy: "I'm ready to compete… against miniature athletes?"

Montage 14: "Bumpy's Miniature Space Odyssey"

Action: Bumpy believes he's embarking on a space journey but ends up in a tiny rocket.

Dialogue: Bumpy: "Houston, we have a tiny problem!"

Montage 15: "Bumpy's Tiny Detective Work"

Action: Bumpy becomes a mini detective, solving cases involving small clues.

Dialogue: Bumpy: "The case of the missing button… Wait, everything's tiny here!"

Montage 16: "Bumpy's Small Kitchen Chaos"

Action: Bumpy tries to cook in a tiny kitchen but faces challenges with miniature ingredients and utensils.

Dialogue: Bumpy: "I need a magnifying glass to see these ingredients!"

Montage 17: "Bumpy's Little Gardening Mishap"

Action: Bumpy attempts gardening in the tiny world but deals with overly tiny plants.

Dialogue: Bumpy: "Growing a garden… miniature style!"

Montage 18: "Bumpy's Subpar Mini Golf Game"

Action: Bumpy returns to mini golf, determined to improve his miniature skills.

Dialogue: Bumpy: "I won't let this mini golf course defeat me!"

Montage 19: "Bumpy's Teeny Tiny Circus"

Action: Bumpy finds himself in a tiny circus ring, attempting various circus acts with tiny props.

Dialogue: Bumpy: "Welcome to the tiniest circus on Earth!"

These are the titles, actions, and dialogue transcripts for montages 10-19. If you'd like to continue with the next set of montages or have any specific changes or ideas in mind, please let me know!

Certainly, here are the titles, actions, and dialogue transcripts for montages 20-30:

Montage 20: "Bumpy's Microscopic Adventure"

Action: Bumpy accidentally shrinks even smaller within the tiny world, leading to more hilarious situations.

Dialogue: Bumpy: "I didn't think it was possible, but now I'm really, really tiny!"

Montage 21: "Bumpy's Miniature Magic Show"

Action: Bumpy tries his hand at magic tricks with tiny props, causing magical mayhem.

Dialogue: Bumpy: "Prepare to be amazed… in miniature!"

Montage 22: "Bumpy's Lilliputian Art Gallery"

Action: Bumpy explores a tiny art gallery and interacts with miniature artworks.

Dialogue: Bumpy: "I appreciate art, even if it's super tiny!"

Montage 23: "Bumpy's Pocket-Sized Police Chase"

Action: Bumpy gets caught up in a tiny police chase, attempting to outrun miniature officers.

Dialogue: Bumpy: "I'm not a giant criminal, I swear!"

Montage 24: "Bumpy's Tinier Than Tiny Tea Party"

Action: Bumpy attends a tea party with tiny guests, encountering tiny teapots and cups.

Dialogue: Bumpy: "This is the tiniest tea party ever!"

Montage 25: "Bumpy's Petite Pirate Adventure"

Action: Bumpy becomes a miniature pirate, sailing a tiny ship in a comical sea of miniatures.

Dialogue: Bumpy: "Arrr, matey! Watch out for those miniature waves!"

Montage 26: "Bumpy's Diminutive Dance Recital"

Action: Bumpy participates in a tiny dance recital, attempting miniature dance moves.

Dialogue: Bumpy: "I've got dance skills even in this tiny world!"

Montage 27: "Bumpy's Itty-Bitty Circus Extravaganza"

Action: Bumpy returns to the tiny circus, this time performing even smaller stunts.

Dialogue: Bumpy: "The circus, now in micro mode!"

Montage 28: "Bumpy's Nano-Sized Navigational Nightmare"

Action: Bumpy navigates a tiny maze, facing a series of mini obstacles.

Dialogue: Bumpy: "I'm lost in this microscopic maze!"

Montage 29: "Bumpy's Subatomic Science Experiment"

Action: Bumpy conducts a science experiment at an atomic level, leading to tiny explosions.

Dialogue: Bumpy: "I didn't mean to make it this small… or explode!"

Montage 30: "Bumpy's Minuscule Mishap Finale"

Action: Bumpy's adventures in the tiny world culminate in a grand finale of miniature mayhem.

Dialogue: Bumpy: "It's been a tiny, wild ride!"

These are the titles, actions, and dialogue transcripts for montages 20-30, bringing Bumpy's misadventures in the tiny world to a hilarious conclusion. If you have any more requests or if there's anything else I can assist you with, please feel free to let me know!

[saltwatergiftshop]

Unlocking Adventure: The Ultimate Guide to Slingshot Rentals

Introduction

Are you ready to take your next adventure to the next level? Look no further than slingshot rentals! At SaltwaterGiftShop.com, we believe in providing unique experiences that leave a lasting impression. In this guide, we'll delve into the exciting world of slingshot rentals and why they are the perfect choice for thrill-seekers and explorers alike.

What is a Slingshot Rental?

A slingshot rental offers you the opportunity to experience the thrill of driving a three-wheeled, open-air vehicle that combines the best elements of a motorcycle and a sports car. These high-performance machines are designed to provide an exhilarating driving experience while ensuring maximum safety.

Why Choose a Slingshot Rental?

Unmatched Thrills: When you rent a slingshot, you're not just getting a vehicle - you're gaining access to an adrenaline-pumping adventure. With powerful engines and a low-slung design, slingshots offer a unique driving experience that's bound to get your heart racing.

Panoramic Views: Thanks to their open design, slingshots provide unobstructed views of your surroundings. Feel the wind in your hair as you cruise along scenic routes, taking in the beauty of nature or the sights of a bustling city.

Easy to Drive: Even if you've never driven a slingshot before, fear not! These vehicles are designed with user-friendly controls, making them accessible to both beginners and experienced drivers.

Safety First: Slingshots are equipped with advanced safety features, including stability control systems and reinforced roll cages. Additionally, they're designed to provide a low centre of gravity, enhancing stability during turns and manoeuvres.

Where to Go on Your Slingshot Adventure

Coastal Escapades: For those who love the sea breeze and the sound of crashing waves, a coastal slingshot adventure is the perfect choice. Cruise along scenic coastal roads, stop at picturesque viewpoints, and maybe even catch a breathtaking sunset.

Mountain Majesty: If you're a fan of rugged terrain and awe-inspiring mountain vistas, consider taking your slingshot into the heart of the mountains. Experience the thrill of winding roads and discover hidden gems along the way.

Urban Exploration: Explore the vibrant energy of a city in a slingshot. Navigate through bustling streets, soak in the urban atmosphere, and discover landmarks from a whole new perspective.

Preparation and Safety Tips

Before embarking on your slingshot adventure, it's important to keep the following tips in mind:

Wear Appropriate Gear:

Helmet: A helmet is the most fundamental piece of safety equipment. It protects your head in case of unexpected incidents and ensures your well-being throughout the journey. Make sure it's snugly fitted and meets safety standards.

Gloves: Sturdy gloves not only provide grip on the steering wheel but also shield your hands from the elements. They offer protection against sunburn, wind chill, and road debris, keeping your hands comfortable during the ride.

Protective Eyewear: Wearing protective eyewear is essential to safeguard your eyes from dust, insects, and other airborne particles. It also helps reduce glare from the sun, improving visibility and ensuring a clear view of your surroundings.

Familiarise Yourself with the Vehicle: Before you hit the road, take a moment to acquaint yourself with the slingshot. Get comfortable with the controls, including steering, brakes, and signals. Familiarise yourself with any unique features, ensuring you feel confident and in control throughout your adventure. This quick orientation sets the stage for a smooth and enjoyable ride.

Plan Your Route: Planning your route is a vital step in ensuring a smooth and enjoyable slingshot adventure. Take time to research and map out your journey, noting key attractions, rest stops, and fuel stations along the way. This preparation ensures you make the most of your adventure, allowing for memorable stops and a hassle-free experience on the road.

Follow Traffic Rules: Adhering to traffic rules is imperative for a secure slingshot excursion. Obey speed limits, stop signs, and signals, and yield the right of way when necessary. Stay vigilant, use turn signals, and maintain a safe following distance. By following these rules, you not only ensure your safety but also contribute to a smoother flow of traffic for everyone on the road.

Conclusion A slingshot rental from SaltwaterGiftShop.com promises an adventure like no other. With the wind in your hair and the open road ahead, you're bound to create memories that will last a lifetime. So why wait? Book your slingshot rental today and get ready to unlock the thrill of a lifetime!

[upsidedownwithsteve]

CAMP UPSIDE DOWN PART TWO Steve Harrington x fem!reader [33K] summer camp, broken kayaks, too much tension and that boy you hate. an enemies to lovers camp counsellor story.

I can’t stop, the way I feel. 

Camp Upside Down was about eighty miles outside of Hawkins, Indiana, just past Belmont and hidden amongst the trees of the YellowWood State Forest. 

It held too many kids, a collection of old wooden cabins, a few impressively sized lakes, sports equipment that was made in the sixties and Steve fucking Harrington. 

It’s not like you had always hated the boy, you just couldn’t really remember the last time you liked him. 

The first of June brought blue skies, summer rolling in with thick white clouds, the kind that didn’t look real. The Indiana air was warm and hazy, growing hotter in the afternoon, long days, bright nights and the return of fireflies and open air pools. 

Each year you left Hawkins behind, a kiss pressed to each cheek by your parents, your old car packed to the brim as you headed west for six weeks, to your home from home, buried between cedar trees, amongst giant redwoods and overgrown wildflowers. 

You rolled out of town and took the sun with you, windows down, radio blasting music and static, that soft buzz that you loved so much. You sped past the water tower, the quarry and the wheat fields, the strawberry patches and the forest that no one liked to wander too far into. 

You hated that Steve Harrington followed, his car newer, shiner, faster. You hated when he overtook you on the straight, before you had even had a chance to leave town. So you would hang your arm out the window, middle finger poised in a pretty salute just for him and he’d send you one back, like clockwork, like you’d practised it, like it happened every year. 

If you could get close enough, your car bumper threatening his, you could just make out the scowl behind his raybans, the twist of his lips cursing you out in the reflection of his rear view mirror. 

It went on like that for the whole drive, never stopping unless the boy did, refusing to fall behind, because bathroom breaks were for losers and you did not fucking lose to Steve Harrington. 

It was flat out, foot down, wind whipping in on the highway; a game of cat and mouse, curses yelled over the radio, hair messy in your face, just pushing the speed limit until overhead signs and four lane roads turned into something else. 

It’s like the sun got softer when you turned off the freeway, the light hazy between the trees and it made this part of the world seem like it was just for you. 

Single track roads took you through the forest, past rivers and lakes, mountains in front of you, Hawkins behind you and the air was sharper, muddled with pine and moss, still wet tree trunks from the morning rain, wildflowers and something too sweet to name. 

Smoke threaded through it all when you got closer to camp, the big wooden archway greeting you like an old friend, the cabins appearing through cracks in the forest, the doors open, staff carrying in pillows and sheets, prepping for the arrival of the kids in a few days time. 

And when you pulled your car into the staff parking, a clearing between trees behind the big gymnasium, you turned off your engine, closed your eyes and listened to the little slice of peace you’d get in your six week stay. 

No kids, no screaming, no arguing, no singing. Not yet. 

Just bird calls and the buzz of insects, soft wind between branches and the slow crackle of the main campfire if you strained your ears hard enough. 

“Your shitty car gets slower every year, princess.”

You swore, low under your breath, the soft “for fuck sake,” mixing with a sigh as you let your head fall onto the seat and you opened your eyes.  

Steve was standing at your open window, hip leaning against the side of your car, arms crossed, expression smug. He grinned at you. 

“Harrington,” you greeted, a drawl that lacked any sort of warmth, tinted with annoyance instead. 

The boy tsked, sarcasm dripping from him as he leaned in, arms on the window ledge, peering into the car and peering at the pile of cassettes on your passenger seat. 

“Blondie? Really?” 

You swatted at him, brows knitted together already because you’d been at Camp Upside Down for quite literally three minutes and the boy was already doing his best to infuriate you. 

“That’s not very nice,” he told you but he was still grinning. “You didn’t miss me?”

You pushed the car door open, knocking Steve out of the way in the process and you scowled as you popped the trunk, turning to him with a glare. 

“Miss you? I saw you at the store two days ago.”

Steve watched you haul out your bags, snorting when you let them fall to the forest floor without much care. 

“Yeah, but you called me a dickhead and hit me with your cart.”

“You yelled across the store and asked me where my cauldron was.”

You set the boy with a stare, a little dead behind the eyes, just like you’d perfected. Your lip twitched into an almost smile when you let another bag tumble out of the trunk, narrowingly missing the boy's foot when he flinched out of the way. 

Steve shrugged, tongue pressed to his cheek to stop his grin as he stared at you right back. 

“It was a valid question.”

You slammed the trunk, your gaze on the boy withering and you kicked at one of your bags. You hated this part. 

“Are you gonna help me with these?” You really didn’t know why you were bothering to ask, because the boy was already backing away, hands shoved into the pockets of his Levi’s and he was still fucking grinning. 

“Why would I do that?” He questioned. “Besides, I only came round to tell you Hopper wants everyone in the office. Now.”

You glared at Steve, seething, lips parting with a high pitched scoff as you threw an arm out and gestured to all your belongings, most of your life packed into four too big duffel bags. 

“You fucking just watched me unload the car.”

Steve hummed happily, too far away for you to throw a pine cone at. He tutted, all faux concern and sad brown eyes. 

“Damn, I did, didn’t I?” And then he was walking away, heading to the offices that were housed in the row of cabins by the lake. “Don’t be too late, princess, Hops already in a shitty mood.”

——————

Camp leader Jim Hopper, was indeed in a foul mood when you arrived twenty minutes later, out of breath and just as annoyed as he was. 

The cabin was full, bodies squeezed between desks and the moth-eaten couch was piled with people. Faces new and old stared back at your sudden entrance, the scowl that was already on your face only deepening when Steve, who was leaning lazy against a wall, wiggled his fingers at you. 

“Hawkins,” Hopper barked, “how nice of you to finally join us. You think after doing this for four years, you’d know that the first day meeting is always at eleven o’clock sharp.”

Hopper's habit of calling people by their hometown should’ve been insulting, if it wasn’t for the fact that he was a teddy bear looking man, moustache twitching when he was either annoyed or amused, but he had soft eyes and an even softer patch for the camp kids. 

When you first pointed out that there were three counsellors that came from Hawkins, he merely started calling you Hawkins number two, so you tended to not remind him after that. 

“Sorry,” you huffed, not sounding all that sorry, and you glared at Steve as you squished yourself between Eddie Munson and Robin Buckley. 

“Okay, shitheads, listen up,” Murray, Hopper’s right hand man, stood with a clipboard, thick rimmed glasses slipping down his nose. “Roll call.”

“Muson, music. You’ve got three new kids that have signed up for private guitar lessons, you’ll get their info by tonight, make sure you check in with Joyce at reception.”

Eddie Munson, one of the older boys nodded, long, dark curls already frizzy with the warmth that the forest trapped beneath its canopy. Originally from Philadelphia, the boy was still dressed in his leather jacket, a denim vest that had ripped sleeves and a giant Dio patch sewn messily onto the back, ready for a metal concert rather than s’mores around the campfire.

“And for the love of god, wear the proper uniform this year.”

On cue, Hopper started throwing out the mandatory shirts, white and years old, the sleeve cuffs red, just like the printed ‘staff’ on the back, in bold, capital letters. 

“Nancy, you’re moving up this year, senior counsellor,” Nancy Wheeler, another Hawkins native, nodded sharply, her hair clipped back and uniform already on. “We’re gonna need the first week's schedule done for the kids arriving at the weekend and christ, make sure these idiots turn up for their shifts.”

Robin snorted from beside you and Murray rounded on her, a finger pointing accusingly. “Buckley, any more missed shifts from you this year and you’ll be on clean up duty for every dinner shift. Bob wants you in the mess hall tomorrow for lunch prep.”

The girl scowled, mumbling under her breath about how it wasn’t her fault she never heard the morning tannoy. A pretty girl from Detroit, Robin was all ripped jeans and backwards caps, sarcastic comments and sleeping wherever she could make herself comfortable.

Hopper threw a shirt at her, grinning when it landed against her face with a soft thump.

“Jonathan.” The boy who was busy fiddling with the camera around his neck suddenly looked up, eyes wide as if he’d been caught half asleep. “The parents are more than happy to buy more of the photo packages this year and we need new prints for the newsletters so we want content, content, content. No slacking and distracting your girlfriend or you’ll be sleeping on the other side of the lake.”

Jonathan Byers, from Bloomington, just a few hours from Hawkins, mumbled an agreement before walking over to sit by Nancy and resting his head on top of hers.

“Hargrove,” Hopper barked from behind his desk, “you’re back on sports but we’re a lifeguard down this year so you’ll be splitting shifts with Harrington.”

Billy Hargrove, California bad boy, was sliding an unlit cigarette between his lips, getting the tip slick as he grunted his agreement. He caught his staff shirt as it flew through the air at him, winking at you when he tucked it into the waistband of his too tight jeans.

“And for fuck sake, Billy, no non staff members in the cabins after six,” Hopper groaned, “I’m not having screaming mothers at my door at one in the morning this year, corrupt the girls of Indiana on your own time, not mine.”

“You two,” Murray finally rounded on you and Steve, a sardonic grin pulling at his lips. “Lovebirds, you’re both on games and swimming.”

Steve and you both huffed out a protest at the term, features pulled into a scowl and you flipped off both Robin and Eddie when they chuckled.

“And Jesus Christ, if any more of your lovers' tiffs result in more broken equipment, it’s coming out of your wages.”

You scoffed, a sound of protest as Steve swore. “Bullshit, what broken equipment?”

The rest of the team snickered as Hopper levelled you with a stare from over the top of the computer screen. Murray snorted from behind his fist and even Steve had to try to hide his grin at your words.

“There’s three cracked kayaks, fourteen broken tennis racquets and a box of punctured basketballs sitting behind the gym as we speak, sweetheart, don’t even go there.”

You rolled your eyes and pushed yourself off of the couch, grabbing Robin’s hand and yanking her up with you when she batted at your arm. 

Everyone else shuffled to their feet, leaving the few newbies in the corner, wide eyed and worried as they waited for their orientation. 

Hopper glared at the seven of you as you lined up at the door, restless and waiting to escape to your cabins, to steal some food from the kitchens when Bob wasn’t looking.

“No drugs,” Hopper announced before Eddie could open the door. “No smoking, and for god sake Munson, don’t tell the kids that you can eat the mushrooms, not again.”

Eddie had the audacity to look bewildered, brown eyes big and doe like as you held in a snicker from behind him. He swatted at your leg and you thumped him back, grinning when the back of your hand caught the edge of his rolling tin in his front pocket. 

The older man moved onto Billy, glaring when the boy only smirked, sliding a pair of gold rimmed aviators over his eyes. 

“Nudity is for the showers and your own cabin, California, I don’t wanna see your ass comin’ out of the lake, I don’t care how early it is in the morning.”

Billy simply grinned wider, snickering when Nancy blushed, rolling his eyes when Robin dug her fingers into his ribs. 

“And you two,” Hopper lifted a hand, gesturing between you and Steve once more, “if I gotta break up any more fights, or play couples therapist, you’ll be paying for my own before summer is over, you hear me?”

The pair of you sulked, eyes lowered to the floor and feet shuffling as you weighed up your options of arguing back, but the office room was lacking its usual cloud of cigar smoke and the coffee machine in the corner had a piece of paper with a big ‘out of order’ scrawled on front.

“Loud and clear, chief,” Steve smirked, eyeing you from where he stood, Eddie grinning between you both.

Murray opened the door to the forest and the sun, the wall of heat seeping in and fighting with the old aircon unit and Hopper’s last words to you all before you slipped out were:

“Play nice and don’t kill the kids.”

Billy caught Steve by the shirt as they left, the boy’s watching as the rest of you walked down the gravel path that led through the trees, splintering off from cabin to cabin.

The blonde boy turned, grinning sharklike, sunglasses still on. He nodded to your retreating frame, taking a second to watch the way your shorts rode up the backs of your thighs as you climbed the cabin stairs behind Robin. 

“You tapped that yet, Harrington?”

Steve glowered, ripping away his arm from the other boy but his reaction only made Billy smirk wider, a lighter appearing from his pocket as he lit his cigarette. 

“Get fucked, Hargrove,” Steve did his best to sound bored, like he didn’t care.

But it only made Billy laugh, blowing smoke to the blue skies and he followed Steve down the opposite trail, heading towards the same cabin that Eddie was currently dragging a small amp into. 

Steve huffed when the blonde boy stomped up the stairs behind him, stepping over the forgotten bags that lay unpacked on the floor. “Maybe that’s Hawkins' problem, you know?” He asked, referring to you. Billy eyed Steve, leaning against his top bunk, the air in the wooden cabin so much cooler than outside. “Maybe she just needs a good seeing to.”

Eddie raised his brows, looking carefully between his bunkmate and Billy, wondering if there was about to be a new record for how quickly a fight broke out. The current sat at seventeen hours after arrival, but there had been a lot more vodka involved that time, and maybe a comment or two about that one time Billy got the clap from some girl in the next town over. 

“Now now, boys,” Eddie intoned, “I’ve not nearly had enough sleep to deal with this shit.”

He went ignored.

Billy continued, teeth sharp and white and bared as he followed Steve around the bunks, leaning against the dresser before the boy had a chance to open it and his eyes flashed when he watched the muscle in the brunette’s jaw twitch. 

“Think she’d let me?” Hargrove asked, “think she’d get a little wild for me?” “Don’t you have shit to do?” Steve snapped, refusing to look at Billy, ‘cause he could feel the tips of his ears getting hot, a horribly uncomfortable tightness clawing at his throat. 

But Billy could see right through him, years of spending summers together, watching the way you and Steve argued, nose to nose and chests panting. He always made sure he had a front seat to the show and poking the angry bear only made the inevitable first argument so much more fun to witness.

Billy clicked his tongue, still grinning unbearably wide. “Maybe I can go visit Hawkins… I’m sure there’s something heavy that your girl needs help with.”

“She’s not my fucking girl.”

The blonde winked at Eddie as he passed, the longer haired boy doing nothing to hide his smile, knowing fine well what game Hargrove was playing. And shit, he was winning, ‘cause by the time Billy left and Steve spun back around, his fists were clenched and a heavy scowl pulled his brows together. 

“You’re too easy, Harrington.”

“Shut up,” Steve muttered, but there wasn’t much heat behind it. He liked Eddie, and god, he knew he was right.

——————

“You know, every summer I expect you and Harrington to walk into camp, hand in hand, talkin’ all sweet to each other,” Robin wasn’t looking at you as she spoke, too busy stuffing already crumpled shirts into the shared dresser, but you knew she was grinning. “The sexual tension has to break sometime, you know?”

“Over my dead, fucking body.”

Your reply was one she’d heard before, year after year, summer after summer, because every June, the same thing happened. Fall outs, arguments, screaming matches in the mess hall, head to head battles on the dock, late night yelling over a campfire and a bottle of cheap bourbon.

“I still don’t get it,” the girl smirked, finally eyeing you from over the top bunk. The late morning light made the small cabin glow, the surface of the lake reflecting in through the open window and off of the panelled walls. “Steve isn’t that bad.”

“That’s because you didn’t have to go through high school with the King himself,” you deadpanned, already bored of the conversation. You’d had it before, several times over with almost all the camp staff, each one wondering why you and Steve fucking Harrington wanted to kill each other over a game of dodgeball, the last poptart at breakfast, picking teams on games night. “Harrington got everything I worked hard for, just ‘cause his daddy has some money.”

You threw your now empty duffle bag to the ground kicking at it until it slid underneath the bed. Your own pillow was in its rightful place on top, the peach coloured case clashing horribly with the army green duvet, but it smelled like home. 

“I announced I was running for class president in sophomore year, and then that asshole decided he would to,” you levelled Robin with a stare, still petulant after so many years. “He threw a party at his stupid rich house and by Monday, everyone was talking about Steve Harrington’s pool and how they were voting for him.”

“Don’t you think it’s unhealthy to hold onto such a grudge-”

You cut the girl off, on a tangent now she’d brought the sore subject up. “Like, wasn’t it enough that he was the swim team captain? And then! When we got into that stupid fight in Junior year, we both ended up with a weeks detention but no, no. Mr Harrington swoops in with a little two grand donation to the school’s library upgrade and low and behold, little Stevie is suddenly off the hook.”

You kicked another bag, this one not as empty and you tried not to wince when your toe made contact with what you assumed was a collection of books. 

“As long as his record is squeaky clean, right? S’not like his dad won’t just pay his way into fucking Yale, or Princeton, for him anyway,” you were grumbling now and when you looked up to see Billy Hargrove walking by with a too smug smile, you flipped him off, trying to make yourself feel better.

He just wiggled his fingers at you in a wave, winking when you grimaced.

“I think I need a drink,” you said, throwing yourself down onto the bed and concluding your Steve Harrington rant, more than likely only the first of the day.

The sheets smelled the same, like they always did. A little musty, like the back of a storage cupboard, almost hidden by the laundry detergent you knew Joyce made Hopper use. Fresh like pine needles, like the forest floor and mountain air. Kinda like another home. 

Robin barked out a laugh before coming over and standing between the space between your knees, your legs splayed over the too narrow mattress. She offered you a hand, exaggerating a loud groan when you took it and she pulled you back up to sit. An affectionate pat fell on your head before she looked around the mess of your half unpacked cabin, sheets and folded towels on the dressers, drawers open and half full, a litter of shoes by the door and an unplugged radio on a chair. 

“You know what?” She huffed out, “we both need a drink.”

——————

The keg party by the lake was a first night tradition, the older staff members long gone to their beds after a tiring first day in the forest heat, lugging around equipment and furniture. 

The rest of you gathered at the dock, crowding the small part of the water front that had sand instead of rocks, the air still warm from the leftover sun despite the stars in the sky. It was inky black in the middle of the woods, the clouds navy, the lake a mirror and the fire gave off an impressive amber glow.

Everyone was painted in orange light, pink and red on their cheeks, smoke in their hair and a different kind of fire in their chests when Billy produced a few bottles of cheap whisky, a half bottle of bourbon and surprising everyone, Nancy had added a bottle of vodka to the pile. Cheap beer came in the form of lukewarm kegs and despite the effort it took, Jonathan pulled the short straw and drove out of camp, meeting the delivery boy on the main road to pick up a pile of hot pizza boxes. 

It smelled like summer, smoke and god awful decisions.

The dirty beat of Need You Tonight by INXS started through the tannoys above you, the old, tinny speakers hidden in the trees.

Some people cheered, others moved to the sand to dance, a slow grind of bodies with their bare feet in the lake, water lapping at ankles as they moved. Steve was grinning from the dock, a rip in the one knee of his jeans, the skin underneath already tanned as if he belonged under the sun. The white t-shirt he wore was threadbare, years old with ‘camp upside down’ faded in green on the chest. 

He was watching you, a feeling that used to make you unravel, like you knew he did it just to earn a rise from you. So you waved instead, sugary sweet and full of sarcasm, huffing when he beckoned you closer with a hand that was holding the last of the bourbon, and you told yourself it was the promise of alcohol that made your feet move. 

You rolled your eyes before narrowing them at the boy in front of you, your red cup clutched to your chest and you couldn’t help but take another step forward, just a small one, until the toes of your shoes were touching his.

He looked down at the wooden boards, the water lapping underneath, barely seen between the cracks in the dark, but the boy was too focused on the way your converse bumped his nikes. It felt like a challenge, like everything with you did and when he looked back up, your chin was tilted high and your eyes were glittering.

You looked like trouble and he hated it. 

“Is this another one of your shitty mixtapes, Harrington?” You let the words drip from your lips, whisky mixing with distaste and the late night air.

Everything was warm and sweet, bourbon and peaches, campfire smoke and leftover lake water on your skin. Steve looked at you, eyes shining, freckles on his nose like stars and he grinned.

“How’d you know, princess?” He took the cigarette that had been tucked behind his ear, slid it between his lips as he kept your gaze, always undefeated in the staring contests you both never meant to start.

“‘Cause it sounds like something a boy would make when he’s trying too hard to get a chick in his bed.”

He lit the cigarette, still grinning, the end of it caught between teeth and Steve Harrington looked so unbelievably ready to play one of your little games with you. The ash burned red in the dim light, the sounds of your friends and co-workers dull behind you both.

“Does that mean it’s working?”

“You fucking wish, wonder boy,” you scoffed and you made a grab for the bottle he was holding, twisting your lips to hold in the annoyance when Steve moved it out of reach, holding the amber liquid above your head.

“So mean already,,” Steve tutted and you hated the familiar warmth that wrapped around his words, like it was supposed to be a compliment. “Don’t you usually wait for day three before breaking out that one?”

“Give it,” you demanded, and from over Steve’s shoulder you could see Eddie and Jonathan watching, expectant smiles on their faces and interest in their eyes.

“Make me, princess,” Steve answered, voice just as short as yours but he sounded too amused, like he always did when he was trying to push your buttons. The boy was too tall, his hand and the bottle well above your head, leaking into the night sky above and you weren’t going to humiliate yourself by trying to jump for it. 

So you drained what was left in your cup, the vodka was too cheap and it burned your tongue but the mix of cherry kool aid made up for it, staining your tongue red. You swiped at your lips, grinned and planted your hands on Steve’s chest much to his surprise. 

But just as his mouth fell into a pretty ‘o’ shape, his brown eyes darkened to that dark honey shade you were used to, you pushed, hard. He hit the water with a splash and to the raucous sound of whoops and cheers, a wolf whistle when he emerged, white top soaked and clinging to the ridges and dips of his muscles, tangled at his waist. 

He spluttered, waist deep in the lake as he stared back up at you, hair dripping into his eyes and oh, he was mad. You were fucking joyous, wrapped up in the way people were laughing and you didn’t break eye contact with the boy as you bent at the waist and picked up the bottle that’d dropped as he fell.

You pulled off the lid, grinned and brought it to your lips, draining the rest of the smoky drink, another burn that nipped at your throat, your chest, your skin. You felt too warm when you chased a stray drip of it with your thumb, sliding over your lip before sucking it back between your lips.

“Made you,” you told Steve. 

The things you do, don’t seem real. 

The kids arrived in a wave of colours and chaos, bags forgotten on buses, new cabins already turned inside out and Joyce had a queue as long as the lake outside of her office, her hands full of allergy medication, inhalers and requests to change bunks ‘cause ‘Kyle Jamison snores like a seventy year old with a lung condition.’

The camp itself was just as messy, it always had been. The old cabins littered the space, winding dirt tracks leading you into a cluster of trees, surrounding the old wooden huts, the porch light almost always flickering in the dark. 

There was faded bunting hanging from branch to branch, the old gym that sat with its rusting tin roof near the back, the dock with its splintering planks by the lake. The grassy hub at the centre was worn down by constant running and makeshift picnics and the wildflowers that free in between it all were getting too tall, bursts of red, yellow and orange between green moss. 

It was getting old, things were a little broken but the entire forest smelled like morning dew, that ‘it’s just rained’ kinda way and old campfire smoke. It was another home. 

Camp Upside Down was officially in full swing. 

You were pleased to see you had some of your returning favourites in your group that year: Will Byers, Lucas Sinclair, Suzie Bingham and Dustin Henderson. 

You were just going through the last of the names on your list, kids gathered in front of you and awaiting their assigned cabins when Steve snatched the clipboard from your hand, huffing. 

“Harrington!”

“What the hell is this?” Steve grumbled, looking at the sheet of paper and at your group. He singled out Dustin, and the boy flushed, all nervous grin and bright eyes underneath his curls. “Henderson, I thought you said you were requesting my group this year?”

The young boy shrugged, glancing at the trees instead of Steve. 

“I, uh, I said I was happy with either of you,” Dustin grinned, front teeth coming in more than they were last year and you beamed back. “Besides, Hawkins sneaks us extra cookies before bed.”

 You shot the boy a look. 

“Hey! I told you not to tell anyone about that,” you admonished, eyes rolling. “And that’s not my name, Dustin, we spoke about this last year.”

But before Dustin could argue back, Steve was pulling you aside, his hands shockingly warm as they wrapped around your wrist. You stumbled into the tree line with him, shoes sinking into moss, senses surrounded by cedar and cicadas and Steve. 

“What the fuck? Steve!” You hissed, pulling yourself from his grasp with a scowl. 

Before either if you could say anything,Lucas Sinclair, a tall, dark haired kid tapped a passing new counsellor on the arm. They looked concerned when the boy pointed to you both, hidden in the trees.

“Mom and Dad are fighting again,” he told them, voice bored and lacking any real worry. 

“You’re stealing my kids, princess!” Steve’s voice was just as annoyed as yours, his brow furrowed as he stabbed a finger at your sheet of names. 

“Stealing?” You scoffed, whacking your clipboard against his own. The metal clip narrowly missed his fingers and he swore at you hotly. “Stealing? They’re children, Harrington, not collectibles.”

The kids in question were giggling where you’d left them, your group mixing with Steve’s as they stared in that unabashed way only preteens could. You flushed when you heard one of them - Nancy’s brother, Mike, you were sure - made wet, kissing noises. Immature and highly ironic, you noted, considering he was standing hand in hand with a girl called El. 

You glared at them all and they quietened, but only just. 

Spinning back round to deal with your other problem, you pointed a finger to Steve’s chest, hating the way he smirked at your sudden frustration. 

“And what’s your point anyway, huh?” You huffed, “you have Maxine this year, I always have Max in my group!”

Steve looked entirely too smug as he bent a little at waist, crowding down into you so you were both toe to toe. 

You hated it. 

You hated his brown eyes, the way they caught the sun. You hated the smattering of freckles he got every summer, the moles on his neck, the ones you knew dotted the rest of his skin. You hated his hair, how it fell into his eyes when he got mad at you, how he was too focused on you to push it back. 

“Maybe Max just likes me better.”

You gasped, entirely offended at his accusation and before you could hurl something sharp and quick back at him, the girl in question raised her hand from the middle of the crowd, face scrunched in uncertainty. 

“Hi, uh, yeah” You both turned to look at the redhead. “Yeah, no, that’s absolutely not true.”

You rounded back on the boy, a shit eating grin on your face as you raised your brows, your expression victorious. 

“Whatever,” he mumbled, almost nose to nose now and you could smell the spearmint gum he’d chewed, the clean smell of his cologne, whatever body wash he’d used that morning. “Good luck keeping mini Byers alive.”

“Hey!” Will piped up, louder than he’d been last summer and he was scowling at Steve. “I only have three inhalers now.”

Steve rolled his eyes, finally moving out of your space and rounding up his kids like some sort of rogue cowboy, sans horse. He waved the boy away, sounding somewhat placating when he congratulated him. 

“That’s great, Will, honestly buddy,” Steve offered a fist bump, one that the smaller boy happily accepted. “Just don’t let Hawkins here let you forget them yeah?”

Steve turned back to you once more, still smug, still infuriating. “We wouldn’t want her to get in trouble now, would we?”

——————

“Camp has been in session for five minutes.”

Murray was standing in front of you, hands open in a gesture that screamed ‘for the love of god, explain yourselves.’ Hopper was sitting at his desk, eyes closed, fingers running circles at his temples and he sighed heavily. 

Neither you nor Steve spoke, eyes trained on the old, worn floorboards, converse shuffling, shoulders shrugging, lips twisted to hide your matching smirks. 

“Does someone want to explain what happened this time? Because we can’t keep throwing kayaks in the trash like they’re broken cups, people! They're not cheap!”

“Well, you see, Steve has this real annoying habit of-”

“- just because the princess feels then need to win at everything-”

“I need to win at everything?! Me?! Are you fu-”

“Yes you! Always breathin’ down my back, waitin’ for me to fuck up so you can-”

“Enough!“ Hopper jumped up from his chair, hands slamming on his desk as he hunched over it, shoulders heaving, face too red. “Who. Broke. The Kayak?”

You and Steve sighed, shoulder slumped, heads tilted to the ceiling as if you could avoid the question, each other, the inevitable punishment that was coming your way. You sighed, Steve groaned and you both swore. 

Because, honestly? You weren’t sure who’s fault it was. Maybe yours, probably Harrington's. More than likely both. ‘Cause the kids had stumbled out of the lake, giddy and a little sunburnt, leaving you to haul the kayaks onto the shore on your own.

Steve had only watched you for a few minutes, smirk on his face as you struggled with the faded red boats, huffing as you attempted to lift them onto the racks, feet clumsy and damp hair sticking to your forehead, your cheeks. 

In fact, he looked entirely too amused as he leaned against the dock and by the time he’d come over, offering a rare display of help, you stubbornly told him to ‘fuck off.’

 He’d laughed at that, angering you more and you squeaked as he stretched out behind you, his chest still bare from helping his group in the water, and the solid warmth of it brushed against your back when his hands moved to help yours.

He jumped when you did, hands stuttering over your own, over the kayak and you had to push yourself up onto your toes when the boat slipped from the railing. You both caught it in time, Steve pressed into you, cedar and mint and boyish cologne as the curve of your ass settled into his hips. As soon as the kayak was in place, you spun, pushing at his shoulders.

“I can do it myself,” you mumbled, suddenly far too flustered to sound overly annoyed. “I don’t need your help.”

“Christ, princess, you sound like a five year old,” Steve scoffed, but you couldn’t help but notice the flush on his cheeks, looking like you felt. “Can’t admit when you need help, huh?”

“I don’t need help from you, wonder boy,” you tried to laugh, but it came out too pitchy, too forced. 

The camp was quiet now the kids had gone back to their cabins, the lake settling after the afternoon swim, the smell of churros and pizza rolls coming from the mess hall. The air fizzed with summer heat and something else and you weren’t sure why, but your chest was heaving, the straps of your swimsuit suddenly feeling too tight. 

“Stop calling me that,” Steve growled, eyes flashing and he moved into you again, the way he did when every argument started. “You know I fuckin’ hate that.”

“No shit,” you spat, meeting him in the middle, chin raised in a taunt, a dare, a challenge. “You think I’m here to make your life easier than it already is?” “You’re fucking infuriating,” Steve hissed, “you know fuck all about my life, princess, don’t act like you’re so hard done by.”

You pressed a hand to Steve’s stomach, ignoring the way the muscles there clenched under your touch and you pushed at him, something inside you crackling when he didn’t budge. 

You hated his stupid smile, the way his lips twisted when he made you mad enough to scrunch your nose at him. You hated the way he looked down at you when you were this close, through his lashes, like you were something to be studied. Like he liked the way got into his personal space.

“Well damn, why don’t you tell me how you really feel, Harrington?”

Steve pushed his tongue to the inside of his cheek to try and hide his grin, and he shrugged, trying to look entirely unbothered at your pushing. He took another step towards you, chasing you slowly when you stumbled back, body pressed to the stacked kayaks behind you. 

The old boats were warm from the sun, the cheap pvc hot on your skin, back bared down the low cut of your swimsuit, your shorts doing nothing to protect the backs of your thighs. You wondered if that’s why your chest felt flushed, if that’s why your face was heating up. 

“Can’t do that,” he said, tutting before taking his time letting his eyes drop down your body, before trailing back up again. He caught your gaze, held it, bolder than ever. “I’ll get in too much trouble.”

And then, he fucking winked. 

So really, it was Steve’s fault that you stumbled into the racks, the kayak that the boy had just helped you push into place rocking on the rails. Neither of you had the reflexes to do anything about it when it slipped backwards, landing on the hard ground, the dull thud ringing out across camp, the sound ending with a sharp crack, the pvc splitting across the bow of the boat. 

So that’s how you both ended your night in the mess hall, waving after Bob as he finished serving up sloppy joes and went to find the gaggle of kids that demanded that he needed to fix their broken Walkmans and waterlogged Mattel electronic games. 

Murray had stood in front of you both, grinning widely as he handed you mops and cleaning supplies, gleefully pointing out the mustard stains on the linoleum, the spattering of jello that had somehow painted one of the windows. 

It was times like these that you were almost sure you preferred Hopper’s red face and grumbled lectures. 

“I want this place spotless,” Murray told you both, waving a pair of yellow rubber gloves at Steve. The boy snatched them, face less than impressed when the man simply chuckled. “If you can flirt somewhere away from expensive camp property, you can work out some of this sexual tension by trying to get rid of that dried in chilli from last year.”

You would’ve gagged at the mention of the fossilised food if you hadn’t burned at the insinuation of flirting. And sexual tension. With Steve fucking Harrington. 

But the boy beat you to it, as always, his eyes widening and he brandished the mop like a weapon as he pointed at you. 

“We were not flirting,” he insisted, “we do not flirt.”

Murray chuckled, “alright Casanova, keep your hair on.” 

You snorted and Steve scowled, shooting you a look that clearly was meant to tell you to shut the fuck up, but you couldn’t help yourself. 

“Murray, I’d like to think in all the years that we’ve known each other, you’d think I had better taste than to pine after Harrington,” you turned to the boy, smiling as sweet as the summer outside. “Wonder boy has enough of the fifteen year olds twirling their pigtails for him.”

“Stop calling me that.”

You ignored him, splashing his trainers with your mop instead and he kicked your bucket in return. 

“Yeah, no, this?” Murray clicked his fingers at you both, pointing back and forth at you as if you were a science experiment. “This is ridiculous. Do something about it before you both implode. I’m not having you take the entire camp down just because you’re both too horny to come to terms with normal human emotions.”

Your jaw dropped, a small noise of indignation coming from you and Steve looked completely bewildered. 

He grinned once more, smug as he shook his head, like he was the only enjoying whatever inside joke was going on. He turned to leave, not before reaching into his pocket and flicking something at Steve. 

The boy caught it instinctively and he turned to the man with wide eyes. But Murray was already walking away, a stern hand raised in the air, finger pointed to the roof as if he was giving you both some sage words of wisdom as he called out:

“Keep it clean!”

You realised he wasn’t just referring to the mess hall when Steve held up the object, face aghast and cheeks positively on fire, the square, foil packet pinched between his fingers. 

You were burning, mouth open in surprise and you panicked, batting Steve’s hand and making the condom fall into the sudsy water you had both already spilled onto the floor. 

You definitely preferred Hopper’s way of punishment. 

“Put that in the trash, right fucking now,” you demanded, staring at the offending object like it was a ticking time bomb, waiting to blow. 

“Christ, settle down, princess priss,” Steve huffed, “it’s not gonna bite.”

But for once, he did what you asked, the highs of his cheeks still tinted pink as he snatched the silver packet from the floor, stuffing it deep into the trash bags you’d both been equipped with. He didn’t look at you. 

You both worked in silence as the late afternoon turned into dusk, the sky outside the window a pretty lavender, the clouds over the lake turning the water tangerine and it was so quiet. 

Most of the kids would be in their bunks by now, some excitedly making their way over to one of the older cabins where Eddie would organise a game of Dungeons and Dragons for them all. Nancy would be in Hop’s office, going through the next week's schedule and Jonathan would be hidden in his makeshift darkroom, a small shed that was once used for bikes. 

You were almost certain Billy would be skulking the woods, looking for a ritual sacrifice or some lone kid to blow his shrill whistle at. Either option seemed likely. 

Robin would probably already be back in your shared cabin, music on, one of Eddie’s free joints hanging from her lips and you wondered if Steve would normally spend his down time alone, or if he liked to wander the collection of bars the next town over had to offer. If he brought some girl back to his cabin, if he pressed her down onto his stupid bunk that probably smelled like sunscreen and his cologne. 

Your stomach twisted ugly at the thought and you slammed the soaking mop down onto the floor harder than you needed to. 

You were positively glowering at the streaks of leftover over pudding some kind had smeared across the floor, kicking the forgotten baseball cards and tiny action figures so they skittered under the stacked chairs. 

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” The boy called out. 

He was sitting on one of the long lunch tables, legs swinging with a smirk on his face. He’d hardly cleaned, you’d come to realise, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. You had other reasons to be mad now. 

You stared at him from across the empty hall, chest heaving with an annoyance that only Steve Harrington could pull from you. You let mop clatter roll the floor, uncaring as you rounded on him. 

“You,” you spat, hands on your hips and hair messy from where the late night heat made it stick to your forehead. 

“Me?” Steve asked, all faux shock and innocence with a hand pressed to his chest. He grinned, wolfish and sharp edges. “Didn’t realise I had an effect on your underwear, princess, wanna elaborate?”

There it was again, you realised. That flirting lilt that weaved its way through his usual taunts and teases, Steve’s normal bite not quite cutting as deep. Not this year, not this time. 

It made you flustered, on edge, unable to formulate the kind of barbed reply you usually kept on the tip of your tongue, just for him, and oh my god, it infuriated you. 

“You have absolutely no reason to be thinking about what’s under my shorts, Harrington,” you told him, eyes narrowed as you went about moving the stacks of chairs against the wall. 

“Bold of you to assume I’d want to, Hawkins.”

The light was leaking from the day and what was left of the sun made the shadows on Steve’s face lilac and peach. You didn’t know you’d marched over to him until you were able to reach out and touch him. 

You didn’t. You couldn’t. 

“Don’t call me that,” you snapped, “don’t call me that as if you don’t come from the same shitty, backwater town as me.”

Steve leaned forward, his hands curling around the edge of the table as he raised his brows, ready for another argument. You could feel the heat radiating from him, like he’d trapped the sun in his chest, like summer lived inside of him. 

“D’you prefer princess? The princess of Hawkins, is that it?” His voice was mocking, his eyes sarcastically soft. 

“Fuck off, Harrington,” you snarled, and you couldn’t help but lean in too, Steve’s knees pressing into the front of your thighs, your fists clenched by your sides. “At least I’m getting away from that place without my daddy paying my way out.”

“Watch your mouth, sweetheart,” Steve spoke lowly, more serious than you’d heard him before. “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Ooh, did I hit a nerve, sweetheart?” You bit back. 

The boy stared at you, gaze heavy and hot in a way that made you squirm. The air was buzzing, popping and crackling like there had been a fire lit between you and suddenly, you didn’t know how you were supposed to end this fight. 

The tension was too thick to walk away from, sticky like honey, trapping you there. 

“You’re fucking impossible,” he whispered, staring at you like you were a puzzle piece that just didn’t fit. “You’re a pain in my ass, you have been since fucking freshman year.”

You scoffed, pinched and nipped by his words because you were just as aggravated by his presence as he was yours. Maybe more. And probably for longer. 

“Freshman year?” You said, surprise colouring your tone. “That’s real cute Harrington, but you’ve been getting on my last fucking nerve since seventh grade.”

“Seventh grade? What the fu-”

You sucked in a breath, preparing yourself. You’d been waiting for this moment for eight years. 

“Mrs Duncan’s science fair!” You burst out, “I worked my ass off making those vegetable batteries!”

Steve was staring at you blankly, lips parted. 

“I had my tables and all my charts, I even bought a metre to measure the voltage with just my pocket money!” You jabbed a finger to his chest, lips twisted into an almost pathetic pout but you felt twelve again and Steve Harrington still pushing your buttons. 

“And you! You waltzed in half an hour late, with a stupid bottle of coke and some mentos, claiming that you’d been the one to discover fucking CO2.”

Steve, unable to hide his amused smile, just shrugged. “I was barely thirteen, Jesus Christ princess…”

“And then your dad came in behind you,” you sniffed. “He walked right up to Mrs Duncan and handed her a piece of paper. And I remember it had a few zeros on it,” you laughed without much humour. 

The smile slipped from Steve’s face. 

“It was so weird, y’know? How that happened and then you won? And then the next week the library had been restocked and suddenly there were new bunsen burners in the science lab.”

You were genuinely surprised when Steve shoved past you, his hands a shocking heat on the dip of your waist as he grabbed at you to tug you out of his way. You didn’t know when you’d moved to stand between his legs, close enough to see the different shades of brown in his eyes, the way there was a small freckle just below his left brow. 

He was marching across the mess hall, mop and trash bag forgotten and you were so shocked that it took you a few seconds before you called out, weaker than you had previously been speaking. 

“What’s wrong, wonder boy? Don’t like it when you’re called out?”

You weren’t sure if you felt smug or concerned when he spun on his heel, stalking back towards you and moving into you, close enough that the mess of his hair brushed your forehead. But you stood your ground, your legs bumping into the back of the table he’d just left, and you watched through interested eyes as Steve’s chest heaved. 

He looked like he wanted to say something, to yell at you even. But you tilted your chin in one last act of defiance, the tip of your nose just, just brushing his and you swore on everything that was holy that you watched the fight leave him. 

He was still breathing heavily, like he’d run a mile, took a few hits in a boxing ring, got into a fight with a pretty girl and walked back in for more. You hated it when you realised your chest was moving the same, breaths leaving you in short bursts but you didn’t dare let your stare drop from the boy’s. 

You watched lips part, you watched his gaze drop to your mouth and suddenly the birds outside stopped chirping and you could’ve sworn that the world ceased spinning. It felt like the forest was waiting. 

Like it was holding its breath. 

But then the mop that Steve had left resting against the table he had crowded you against fell, clattering to the floor with a sharp echo. It startled you both, jumping apart as you shared one last breath together, eyes on the floor, cheeks burning. 

You didn’t try to stop him when he left a second time, managing to disappear out of the door and into the summer night. You watched the trees and the shadows swallow him, fireflies and leftover smoke in the air and fucking hell, you hated that you watched him walk away until his cabin door could be heard slamming shut.

Tell me what you’ve got in mind. 

By the end of the second week of camp, the staff was starting to show the stress of running after a bunch of kids twenty four hours a day. Some of the younger children in Robin's group had caught a bug, and between your friend, yourself and Joyce, you were all run ragged, hauling buckets across camp and dishing out cold compresses like sweets. 

So when Saturday rolled in, warmer than the last, you were all ready to let off some steam, meeting behind the gymnasium when the sun went down, greeted by a small fire that Eddie got going in an old trash can. He brought some pre-rolled joints, some stolen bags of chips from Bob’s secret stash and the gym was far away enough from the rest of the camp that no one heard the noise of the boombox Jonathan brought with him. 

You threw your own additions into the middle of the makeshift circle that the seven of you made, the newer counsellors still too scared to toe the line of what might get them fired. You stared at the pile of paraphernalia in the middle of the halved logs, makeshift sofas in the too long grass. 

A baggie of weed, a grinder and Eddie’s tin of joints, Billy’s favourite whisky, another bottle of vodka - loaded with cherry jolly ranchers that made it pretty and pink. A few cassettes, some homemade mixtapes, the stolen chips, some red vines and sour patch kids, the packet already open and sugar coating the grass.

You hadn���t really spoken to Steve since the mess hall incident. 

You’d rather immaturely begged Eddie to switch block sessions with you, allowing you to take your kids to the other side of camp, far from where Steve spent time with his group. You’d organised a massive arts and craft project with Nancy instead, avoiding her knowing looks and pointed questions, letting Dustin go crazy with googly eyes, glitter and neon felt tips instead. 

It didn’t matter if you’d asked the kids to make their favourite animal, you’d accept Henderson’s four eyed, sparkly green lizard looking thing over Nancy’s inquisition any day of week. You felt a little bad though, when you all discovered as a group that Will was most definitely allergic to the new type of glue sticks that Hopper had bought. 

But it meant that you’d only seen Steve during some meal times, a glance over breakfast, a small collision during one dinner, fries and a bottle of iced tea falling to the floor and everyone had stopped, stared, waited for the yells. 

They hadn’t come. 

You’d watched him argue with Max when she climbed a tree that he’d already warned her was too tall, you and your group stopping mid swim in the lake to bob around in the current, watching as the boy kicked a dead branch in frustration before scrambling up after her when Max inevitably got stuck. 

You knew he was listening in when Dustin started asking why you worked at the camp, a question he asked you every year. You always told the boy it was because you loved seeing him and the rest of the rugrats he called friends. And it always worked when he was younger, ‘cause he’d smile and let you muss up his curls, overjoyed with such an answer and a piece of bubblegum from your pocket. 

But he was older now and less believing and when you gave him the same adoring monologue, he simply raised his brows and asked again. 

“College,” you had told him simply. “Or money really. I need the cash to be able to leave Hawkins and go somewhere else.”

“Where?” Dustin had asked you, sincere in only the way kids could be. 

You were overly aware that Harrington was sitting behind you at the other table, back to back with you on the benches as he showed El how to tie her elastic just right, so that her slingshot would definitely beat Sinclairs. You didn’t have it in you to tell both of them that that kind of craft project definitely wasn’t allowed. 

You leaned into Dustin instead and shrugged, smiling softly despite the way you saw Steve in your peripheral, turning just enough so he could hear you say:

“Anywhere.”

So it was a little jarring when he arrived at your little staff get together, camp shirt replaced with one of his own, a sunshine yellow tee that made his eyes look like honey and his skin more tanned. You hated that you noticed, that you knew he looked good. 

He greeted everyone warmly, bar you, sending you a curt nod of his head over the burning fire that had Nancy rolling her eyes and Robin poking you in the ribs. Because there were no barbed wire words exchanged between either of you, no jabs, no bites, no smug smiles or sarcastic grins. 

“What is going on with you two?”

You ignored her question, giving her a warning glare that she also chose to ignore, ‘cause she went and sat next to Eddie and Jonathan instead, whispering to them behind the plumes of smoke they’d created. 

After a few drinks and several people telling Billy to shut up, the night turned darker, the sky navy and the air still stiflingly warm. The fire was more a source of light than heat at this point, or as Eddie liked to remind everyone, ‘it’s for the ambience,’ and everyone was doing their best to stay away from the flames, skin already tight and sore with fresh sunburn from that day. 

It only took the vodka bottle being emptied before Billy announced a game of truth or dare, to which everyone groaned and asked what age he was. But he tutted, unperturbed and dropped the empty glass bottle into the middle of the messy circle your bodies had made. 

“Don’t be so fuckin’ boring,” he intoned, “it’s either this or hitchhiking into Bloomington to find a chick that likes being on top-”

The girls groaned, faces pulled into disgust and Jonathan was shaking his head, a bemused look on his face. 

“-and quite frankly that seems like too much effort tonight.”

Steve scoffed, taking the joint Eddie offered him, pushing it between his lips for a hit before he turned to Billy, one eyebrow raised. 

“You mean finding a girl that doesn’t already know you’re a giant dickhead is gettin’ harder to find?”

Sometimes you wondered if Steve hated Billy more than he hated you. 

“There’s always your princess,” Billy grinned, eyeing you in a way that made you feel like you were under a microscope. “She’s gotta give into me sometime, right?”

“Keep dreaming, Hargrove,” you butted in, doing nothing to hide the disgust in your voice. You wanted to kick yourself when you realised you’d responded to being Steve’s princess, your name never even being mentioned. “I’d rather kiss Harrington.”

The wave of something washed over the group at your words, wide eyes and soft smirks, and you felt your stomach sink. Steve was staring at you, eyes lit up with something that looked akin to a challenge, a dare that you hadn’t yet been asked. 

Fuck. 

“Is that so?” Billy laughed, a harsh noise that let everyone know he wasn’t happy at your statement. But he grinned, sharp teeth and sharper blue eyes, steely on you. “You always pick dare, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“That’s not-”

“I dare you to give us all some entertainment and make out with Harrington,” Billy continued, talking over you without even blinking. “Maybe if both of your mouths are busy, we’ll get some fuckin’ peace and quiet around here.”

Nobody breathed. 

But someone must’ve picked your mixtape out of the pile, ‘cause the opening beat to ‘I Think We’re Alone Now,’ by Tiffany, started to play. You stared at Billy, shocked at his suggestion, his demand. The game suddenly felt less fun and the only sounds were the echo of your strangled scoff and the crackle of the fire. 

But then Nancy was pushing her foot into your ankle from where she sat on her boyfriend's lap, eyes glittering. 

“On you go,” she told you, and you think she was trying to be encouraging. 

“What?”

“What?” Nancy repeated, doe eyes innocent and wide, like she didn’t know what she was doing. “You picked dare!”

“I didn’t say shit!” You exclaimed, looking around at your friends for help. Robin and Eddie were cackling, faces pressed into each others shoulders, and being absolutely no fucking help to you. “Guys!”

“C’mon, Hawkins, you don’t like to lose now, do you?” Billy was grinning from where he lazed across some old crash mats, his voice a slow drawl as he chewed some gum obnoxiously. “Give Harrington a little lovin’.”

‘Children, behave… that’s what they say when we’re together.’

You turned to Steve, who was still leaning against the gym wall, his eyes finding yours even in the dim evening light. He looked unsure, nervous even, like he was ready to tell the rest of them to shut up, to pack it in. But then he watched the way you brought the bottle of wine to your lips, letting the rest of the sweet drink trickle past your lips and god, he looked at you like he was ready to fight. 

Dark brown eyes, smirk on his lips, cocky tilt of his head like he was waiting for you. 

He sucked a breath in through his teeth as he watched you stand there, thinking, weighing up your options. 

“What’s my forfeit?” You asked cautiously. 

You turned when Billy chuckled, blue eyes looking as navy as the sky. He let his head tip back, smoke slipping from his lips and into the trees before he grinned at you, far, far too happily. 

“Me,” he told you. 

So Steve sighed, overly dramatic before he spoke to the group, voice full of that easy confidence you hated so much. 

“Don’t worry princess, you can give it your best shot and I promise I won’t feel a damn thing.”

Your friends cackled and hollered around you; always thoroughly amused by the show you and Steve put on. Robin shook her head from where she sat beside Eddie, a shit eating grinning pulling at her lips and she spilled some beer as she leaned forward and called out:

“What’s that they say? It’s a fine line between love and hate?”

More laughs, whispers and knowing nudges, dollar bills exchanging hands as the group placed their bets on what would happen next. 

“I bet your dick says otherwise.”

You don’t know what made you mention Steve Harrington’s dick, but it made the boy’s jaw go slack and the rest of the circle lost it. More whistles, jeering and catcalls broke the quiet of the night, loud over the music, louder because of the vodka and you couldn’t help but set Steve with a smile and a shrug. 

This felt like a game you wanted to win. 

So you walked over to where he stood, leaning lazy against the gym wall, watching you move towards him like a predator stalking its prey. He was looking at you the same way he did when you ended up on opposite teams for a game of capture the flag, all red hot intensity, pride and confidence bubbling over. 

You were surprised when Steve’s hands settled on the dip of your waist, holding you there as you pushed up on your toes to find his lips. Your hand grabbed at his shirt, fisted at the collar to pull him down to you and something in your stomach tumbled when he obeyed.  

He didn’t make any more moves though, eyes almost closed as he looked at you through his lashes, watching, waiting, seeing if you fulfilled your dare. 

It was awfully quiet now, your friends silent, the radio and the fire both crackling and you could hear how you and Steve’s harsh breaths fell over each other’s faces. 

You’d never been this close before. And then it all happened a little too fast. 

His fingers flexed at your sides, digging into the soft there and you weren’t sure if it was out of anticipation, impatience or annoyance. There is as something screaming inside of you to move away, to take the loss, that kissing Steve fucking Harrington wouldn’t be worth the five second glory of completing a dare behind the gym hall. 

But then Steve was whispering and it fell across your lips, his breath sweet like raspberry sour patch kids and rosè wine. 

“If you’re too scared, princess, I totally understa-“

One more push was all you needed. A poke, a pinch, from him, the one person who knew how to rile you up the best. 

You kissed him with a surprising softness. Your mouths clashed rough at first, like you did it just to shut him up, to prove a point. And that was true. But your lips gave way to him with surprising ease, a push and pull that felt less like a fight than you thought it would. 

It was easy to pretend it wasn’t a dare when Steve let out the prettiest sound, a half sigh, half groan that came from the back of his throat and when he tried to move into you, to take a little more control, your hand that was still curled into his shirt pushed him back into the wall he was leaning on. 

He seemed to like that though, ‘cause you felt the curve of his lips on yours, smiling into the kiss and his grip on your waist got almost too tight, like he was planning on leaving marks on you. 

Maybe he was. 

But then it was a fight, like always, the most dizzying kind. His lips were hot and he tasted sweet, like summer and candy and too cheap alcohol. It felt nice to be kissed, it was all very nice until you remembered it was Harrington and you pushed into him a little harder, nipped at his lip and tugged on his hair. He gave it back just as good, nails scraping against your back, just catching bare skin as he lifted the shirt from your sides. 

No one said a word when you parted. Not you, not Steve, not your friends. Not even Billy. You left Steve with a small gasp, a soft noise as you finally parted, so entirely unaware of how long you’d been caught up in his kiss. You felt bruised, on fire, like you’d just stumbled away from your most heated argument yet. 

The only saving grace was that he looked as dizzy as you felt. 

—————

When a team meeting was called early the next morning, you walked into Hopper's cabin last, only to find everyone in different stages of a hangover, but all equally happy to see you. 

They were all grinning, wide, knowing smiles that set your own teeth on edge, your headache worsening when you caught sight of Steve slouched low on the sofa. 

He had a pair of Ray Bans perched on his nose and he didn’t look at you when you walked in, eyes on the floor and wincing. 

Why the fuck did you kiss Steve fucking Harrington?

“Good morning to you, darlin’,” Billy drawled from where he was leaning against Murray’s desk, smirking with tired eyes. “Sleep well? You didn’t come knockin’ on my cabin so I assume Harrington took real good care of you.”

Oh, you remembered. That’s why. 

“Fuck off, Hargrove.”

It was all you could muster when your mouth still tasted like bourbon and Steve, and Murray looked thoroughly interested when he took to the middle of the floor, clipboard in hand. 

“I don’t know what went on last night,” he chuckled, “but I’m sure your hungover asses will be pleased to know that it’s hike day.”

Please for the love of god, no. 

Everyone groaned, faces dropping in upset and Robin, who had already been sitting on the floor, her back to Nancy’s legs, slumped over, cheek pressed to the old carpet and she made a noise that was akin to a wail. 

“Lucky for most of you, we already have sign ups,” Murray crowed gleefully. “Harrington, Hawkins número dos, have a great day.”

Your mouth fell open in protest - hypocritical, you knew, considering you went through the training for hiking safety last summer, but you weren’t on the schedule until next week. 

You stared at Nancy who was flicking through the rota with confusion knitted into her features and when she caught your eye, she just shrugged. 

“No, no, no,” you told Murray, a strange laugh bubbling in your throat that sounded like panic, “I’m not taking my kids out until next weekend, with Robin!”

Murray shrugged, not looking like he really cared and he crossed his arms, nodding his head towards Eddie. 

“No, I know,” he told you in a voice he probably thought was soothing. “But Eddie Munster here-”

“Um, it’s Munson actually.”

“Whatever - your idiot colleague here decided that the road less travelled was the best way home last night.” Murray grinned and pointed down to where Eddie’s foot sat on a small stool, his ankle wrapped tightly in a haphazard bandage. “He’s sprained it.”

You gaped at the boy and Eddie had the right to look sorry, his teeth bared in an apologetic grimace and he mouthed “sorry” at you from beside Steve. His bunk mate hardly stirred. 

“Can’t someone else go?” You asked, spinning back to Murray and you didn’t even care that you sounded desperate. “Like, literally anyone else?”

But Murray kept smiling, his clipboard clasped to his chest like a schoolgirl with a secret diary and he sighed dramatically at you before shaking his head. 

“No.”

“But Hopper specifically said  that we’re not allowed to group together anymore!” You tried, gesturing wildly to Steve who barely answered with a groan. “Not after summer eighty three when he almost drowned me.” 

“Okay that’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?”

You rounded on the boy, hands still flapping around yourself. “Oh, he speaks! Don’t you have anything to say about this?”

Steve peered at you from over the top of his sunglasses, brown eyes weary behind them. He groaned, frowned and pushed his head onto Eddie’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, no, I’m too tired to argue right now, princess.”

Murray looked entirely too amused and he crooked his finger in air quotes when he snorted and said, “sure, tired, gotcha.” He turned back to you, still grinning obnoxiously. “Anyway, chief isn’t here today and I figured there isn’t any boating equipment for either of you to break out in the mountains.”

The group tittered. 

“So hop to it,” he clapped his hands, board tucked under his arm and everyone leapt to their feet when the older man made a move to grab the whistle that hung around his neck. “The kids are finishing breakfast and I want both your groups at the meeting point for a safety debrief before nine.”

—————

You were busy smearing another layer of sunscreen on Will’s nose when Dustin appeared at your side. 

The two groups had made it halfway up the trail, the sun lazy and warm, the way it could only be on an early morning hike. The sky was still hazy, a soft blue lavender that made the clouds in the sky seem dreamlike. The kids were still quiet with sleep, trailing happily behind each other, trading secrets and sips of water with their assigned hike buddies. 

It was nice. Apart from Steve leading the way with a scowl on his face. 

“Are you and Steve fighting?” Dustin asked, curls stuffed messily under a Camp Upside Down hat. 

You finished patting at Will’s forehead as you turned to the other boy with a soft frown. But the two kids stared up at you expectantly, as if waiting for some sort of answer. 

“Uh, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Henderson,” you laughed softly, “but Harrington and I fight all the time. Argue, I mean. Hitting is bad.” 

Will rolled his eyes as he fell back into step beside you, the three of you continuing up the path a little behind the rest of the group. But Dustin tugged at your shirt sleeve, clearly not finished with the conversation, nor satisfied with your answer. 

“But that’s the point,” he proclaimed and you huffed as you pulled him out of the way of a fallen branch, his attention focused too much on you to notice it in his way. “You haven’t been mean to each other all morning.”

“Or called each other names,” Will pointed out from the other side of you. 

“That’s because name calling isn’t nice,” you tried to protest, but your voice sounded weak even to your own ears. 

“You call each other names all the time.”

For the love of god. 

Suzie Bingham had appeared beside Dustin, coke bottle glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose as she set you with a knowing look. Dustin grinned at the girl's appearance, cheeks pink as their shoulders brushed together on the narrow path. 

“That’s not the point,” you told her, grappling for an explanation. You glanced up ahead, over the crowd of children’s heads to see Steve bickering with Lucas and Mike, Max poking him in the back with a long stick as she trudged behind them. “We’re adults.”

All three kids stared at you, expressionless and less than impressed. 

“Have you and Steve ever kissed?” Will suddenly asked, letting the words burst out from his chest like he knew he shouldn’t have asked. 

You tripped over a branch, the same fallen sticks that scattered the trail that you’d pulled Dustin away from. You turned to look at the boy so fast that your neck protested, your eyes wide. 

“Because Steve looks at you like he wants to kiss you all the time.” 

And then you were on the ground, gravel stuck to your bare knees and dirt on your hands and shins, swearing at the forest floor because all you could think about was the press of Harrington’s lips on yours, the way he dug his fingers into your sides like he couldn’t let go. 

Fuck. 

“Shit!” You cried out, hot, frustrated tears brimming at your lash line and you winced when you tried to stand back up. 

Suzie dropped to the trail beside you, eyes worried as she took note of the blood that slipped down your leg, a nasty gash on your knee that looked like it came from the jagged piece of bark that lay beside you. 

“Someone get Steve,” she started to say, a small hand on your shoulder that brought a little comfort. 

But Dustin was already cupping his hands over his mouth and positively hollering over the line of kids that were oblivious to what was going on behind them. 

“STEVE!” 

You groaned, “Dustin, no, I’m fine, honest.” 

“You’re bleeding!” Will protested, looking rather sickly at the sight of the red line that was quickly seeking into the white of your sock. 

“STEEEVE!”

“Kill me,” you whispered to the ground, “just kill me.”

You saw Steve’s trainers before anything else, the soft thud, thud, thud of his soles on the dirt as he pushed his way through to you. You managed to shove yourself back, your knees protesting before dropping to your ass, inspecting your bloodied leg, wincing. 

“Shit, are you okay?”

No comment about your clumsiness, or how you were dumb, or how your dirty, cut up knee looked gross. No, Steve’s voice was shockingly soft with concern as he dropped down on his haunches to inspect your injury. 

“M’fine,” you muttered, cheeks warm because he was almost as close as he had been last night, smelling like leftover cologne and sunscreen, the strawberry smoothie you’d watched him grab at breakfast. 

“Really?” He mused, his tone disbelieving. “‘Cause that looks pretty nasty, princess.”

His hand moved to cup the back of your sore knee, fingers tucked into the sensitive skin there as he went to inspect the scrape. You jolted at his touch, body electric underneath him and you watched the way Steve’s eyes widened at your reaction. 

“Shit, did that hurt?”

“What? No, yes, fuck,” you were panicking, you could hear it in your voice and from somewhere behind you, you heard the distinctive sound of Max Mayfield’s laugh. “Just, Christ, don’t touch me.”

“I’m trying to help, idiot,” Steve snarked but he backed off scowling. You watched how he flexed his hand after he let go of your leg, like his skin was burning the same way yours was, like he’d been scalded. “You need to go get that cleaned.”

You hated that the boy was right but you didn’t give him the satisfaction of agreeing out loud. Instead, you wrestled to your feet, grunting as you did so, wiggling your ankle to make sure you hadn’t suffered the same fate as Eddie. It seemed fine, nothing crunched at least, but the sting around your split skin screamed at you. 

Another slide of red rushed from your cut and down your leg as you moved it and beside you, Will groaned, quickly moving into the crowd to find Mike, his head pushed into his friend's shoulder and his hands clutched at his own stomach. 

A chorus of “eww’s” came from the kids and you weren’t fairing much better, your expression pitiful as you watched your white converse turn crimson. You held your leg out awkwardly, hardly balancing on your good one and every time you pushed your foot to the ground, you hissed. 

It stung like a bitch. 

But then Steve was clapping his hands, well into camp mother mode as he demanded the kids attention. To his credit, everyone looked at him, waiting for further instruction. Well, everyone except Max, who’d found a larger, longer stick and was holding it, javelin style. 

“Okay, let’s go,” he announced, his eyes still on you, and you were still surprised to see worry knitted in the space between his brows. “Turn it around gremlins, everyone in front of us and take your time going back down, okay? Stick with your buddy.”

The kids obeyed, muttering between themselves about how much blood was on your leg and would Hopper let them go to the lake now instead? But they trailed back down the path, two by two, and you and Steve waited for the last pair to pass you before he turned, grimacing.

“Put your arm ‘round me.”

You baulked, staring at the boy as if he’d suddenly grown another head. 

“What? No,” you hated that you sounded so nervous, and you wondered if he could tell.

“Christ, woman,” Steve rolled his eyes, offering a hand out to you, the warmth of it hovering close to the small of your back. “Can you swallow your fucking pride for a second and let me help you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you sniffed, but you wobbled on your one good leg and Steve didn’t try to hide his smile.

“Stubbornness, then,” he mused, eyes on you and his hand still hovering over your back as you started down the hill, an uneven step that had you swearing and muttering to yourself. “Spite, maybe?”

“Fuck you, Harrington,” you told him plainly, hardly any heat behind it for once due to all your attention focused on the pain you were in. Your poor sock was ruined.

Steve’s shoulder bumped yours, his body too close, acting like a buffer in case you fell again. You huffed every time you touched, bare arms brushing, hips grazing and his damn hand still an almost touch on your spine. You could feel the warmth radiate from him. 

“Is that dare, princess?” He was smirking. 

You stumbled, swearing profusely as you had no choice but to reach out and grab the boy. Steve was already halfway to you, his arm resting at your waist, his other hand catching yours as it grappled for purchase on something. His fingers curled around yours and you were surprised to realise, that aside from the night before, this was the most you had touched the boy in all the years you had known him. 

It was dizzying. But maybe that was the blood loss. His palm was even warmer where it was pressed against your back, the dip where the band of your shorts sat, fitting into the curve rather nicely. Steve guided you down the trail, taking more of your weight when the ground became rockier, the gravel under your soles making you slip, your side falling into Steve’s.

“We’re not talking about that,” you told him, teeth clenched as your knee bent at a funny angle, a new kind of pain nipping at you. 

“Oh, we’re not?” Steve asked, voice annoyingly light. You could feel his grin without having to look, like you knew the way the air changed when he smiled, everything warm and dizzying around you.

“Nope!” You declared, your tone leaving hardly any room for argument. Luckily for Steve, he always liked a challenge. “In fact,” you crowed, “it didn’t even happen.”

The boy snorted, a soft sound that you felt through your body, half of your back pressed into his chest as you both toed your way down the steepest part of the mountain. He held you to him, careful not to let you drop your weight onto your leg, one hand still curled large around your own, the other holding your waist now.

You swallowed, throat tight.

“It didn’t happen, huh?” Steve asked, voice low in your ear as you approached the back of the kids, Lucas and Suzie’s ears pricking up at the idea of eavesdropping. “That’s what we’re doing?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you repeated again, voice airy, nails digging into the back of Steve’s hand, a warning, another fight blooming in your chest. 

Another snort, a tighter grip at your waist, as if he was trying to remind you of the way he held you last night, calloused fingertips pushing at the cotton of your t-shirt, barely touching the skin underneath. 

You were so much warmer than when you were climbing up the mountain.

This waiting ‘rounds killing me. 

The third week went by in a blur, your incident on the hike leaving you with a nasty cut on your knee that Joyce had to dig gravel and dirt out of, and a sudden overwhelming awareness of where Steve Harrington was at all times. 

Your body lit up like a warning light every time he was near, a new agitation at the sight of his stupid hair and his stupid sunglasses and his stupid, stupid smirk. 

He didn’t try to talk about the kiss again, he wasn’t that idiotic. But the energy between you both was a little different than before. It was still fiery, buzzing with tension and an electrical current that kept you on your toes, but it was different. 

You weren’t sure if you liked it. 

The week led up to the annual game of hide and seek, the entire camp split into two teams, the cabins turned into bases, the inside of the old gym a ghost town. No one was surprised when Murray declared you and Steve team leaders - one seeking, the other hiding - the camp cheering and whistling as you both took your new shirts, both with ‘captain’ printed on the back. 

You’d barely led your team away from the middle of the camp before you heard Steve declare:

“Okay listen up, we need to win.”

You appraised your own squad with the same focused stare that Steve had, your gaze settling over Eddie and Nancy, the gaggle of kids that were all smearing face paint over their friends. War stripes on their cheeks, bandana’s wrapped around their foreheads and Dustin had even gone as far as to don a green ski mask.

You squinted at him, wondering if you should ask where he got such a thing but you decided against it, voice endearing as you said, “Dustin, sweetie, I don’t think you’re going to be able to see very well out of that.”

And before he could argue his case, Eddie pinched the top of it, whipping the fabric from his head, curls spilling out messily. The boy pouted, but he didn’t argue, instead standing still enough to let Lucas smear blue lines over his face.

“You gonna force me into the smallest corner you can find?” Eddie had turned to you whilst Nancy handed out some bottles of water, hushing the trash talk that was starting to get out of hand between Lucas and Suzie. 

You grinned, looking at Eddie with an easy smile, shrugging, “maybe. You’re pretty flexible, right Munson?”

The boy snorted, shoulder nudging into yours, “like a fucking gymnast, sweetheart.”

You fell into a soft conversation with Eddie, a rare occurrence in the craziness of the camp, all gentle laughs and hands pushed to arms, cracked jokes and the promise of a joint after the game was over. And then Steve was there, almost too close, brows knitted together as he watched the way his bunkmate pressed teasing fingers into your ribs, making you squeak.

“Are we flirting or are we playing?” He snapped, shoulder brushing yours. But Steve wasn’t looking at you, his stare heavy and trained on Eddie. “Hey dude, didn’t Joyce tell you you’ve got to stick with Will?”

Eddie could read his friend like a book. He smirked, unable to help himself when Steve was making it so obvious, but he nodded, moving away from you to tussle at Will’s hair. 

“Sure am, Harrington,” the longer-haired boy smiled good naturedly, “little Byers and I are gonna find the best spot, right kid?”

Will nodded enthusiastically, inhaler in hand and Mike at his side. But Steve was still scowling, eyes finally meeting yours before he turned suddenly, marching back to his team as if he couldn’t bear to be around you for any longer. 

And that was fine with you. Totally fine. 

From then, it was chaos, carnage across the camp with kids running riot, wrestling for the best hiding spot as Hopper and Murray watched from the office window, cups of coffee in hand. 

It went the way it always did, with Mike and Will caught first, the latter giving away their hiding spot way too soon because his allergies made him sneeze, the other boy refusing to split from his friend. 

Eddie trailed behind them, lazy and unbothered about being out of the game so early, a cigarette tucked behind his ear, waiting for Murray to stop watching. 

The kids spread around the camp in clusters, hiding in beached kayaks, under the dock, squeezed between the crash mats in the gym. Max was caught out in the open - after being refused sanctuary in Hopper’s office -  scowl on her face, El dragged behind her, grinning as you laughed.

“Hit the benches,” Steve had told them both, watching as they took their consolation s’mores from Joyce and sat with the rest of the captured kids around the fire. 

Steve’s team took out the other kids one by one, screams and laughter heard across the forest, campers crawling out from underneath decking and out of trees, covered in mud and nettle stings, but so, so happy. 

And then there were hardly any players left. 

But Steve bypassed Dustin and Lucas, the two boys snickering underneath an overturned canoe, and he headed to the gym instead. The old building was empty, his footsteps echoing on the linoleum and the lights were off, the sun that was starting to set just barely shining in the high set windows. 

It painted stripes of light and shadows on the floor and the air seemed golden. Steve kicked at the crash mats that were stacked and  

pushed against a wall, his movements playful and throwing dust mites into the air. They caught the light, floating, glittering and Steve saw a pair of shoes sticking out from behind the ball cage and he grinned. 

If you heard him walking over, you didn’t show it, stubbornly standing your ground until Steve rounded the corner, eyes bright on yours. 

“You’re losing your edge, princess, that was far too easy.”

You were scowling at him and you pushed yourself away from the cage, the wheels squeaking as you rounded the other side, eyes on the boy. It was familiar, that feeling, that push and pull, a chase, a challenge, a dare. 

“Don’t kid yourself Harrington, I’ve been waiting here for about an hour now.”

Steve followed, eyes trailing over your bare legs, the swell of your ass in your shorts, freckle on your thigh, the silver scar on your knee from the hike. You noticed, brows raised and you snorted when he shrugged, unapologetic in a way you hadn’t seen before. 

He didn’t care if you caught him staring. Steve Harrington had always been the first to call you annoying, stubborn, a thorn in his side. But he’d never tried to deny that you were good to look at. 

“That’s only ‘cause I was enjoying the peace and quiet,” Steve shot back and you smiled at him, eyes narrowed, overly fake. “But it looks like I win, who would’ve thought?”

But you were still moving, stepping around the pile of mats, the cold material brushing against your shins and the light from the window made you glow, eyes too bright, smile sharp. 

You stared at the boy from across the crash pads, voice sticky sweet when you asked, “don’t you have to tag the other opponent before they’re out?”

Steve stopped, level with you across the hall and he grinned. And fuck, he looked pretty like that, standing in a sunbeam, freckles on his nose, hands on hips and eyes burning on you. 

You weren’t arguing, not quite, not yet. But it still felt fun. 

Steve looked around, eyes conspiring, and he smirked. “There’s no one here to say I didn’t, princess.”

And then you were moving again, circling each other, smiling a different kind of playfulness and you tutted, pushing your hands into the back pockets of your shorts and you smirked when Steve followed the movement of it. 

“Cheating? C’mon now, wonder boy, you’re above that. Daddy’s not here.”

Steve twisted his lips, ran a hand through his already messy hair and made it flop into his eyes and he pretended to think, just for a second or two, as if he didn’t already know what he was gonna throw back at you. 

“Usually,” he told you, voice low, a little rougher than before. “But I think you owe me one, princess.”

You quirked a brow at him, standing still, one knee lifted and pressed to the mats to steady yourself. 

“Is that so?”

There was a fizz in the air that hadn’t been there before. 

“You got to win your little dare ‘cause of me,” he told you and god, something shifted. Maybe the sun dropped, maybe the shadows got darker, maybe the air got heavier. “I saved you from the clutches of Hargrove.”

You scoffed, turning and going back to walking around the mat, hiding the way your cheeks burned.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, remember?”

But Steve just grinned, that wide, bright kinda smile that showed off the dimples you almost forgot he had. He looked boyish like this, handsome in a pretty way, soft and full of sun. Maybe it was because he was looking at you without the lines between his brows, the downturn of his lips. 

“Oh but you do, don’t you, sweetheart?” 

‘Sweetheart’ was starting to sound less like an insult, less like a jab, when Steve said it. His voice was softer, a teasing pitch to it, that sounded so much different than you’d heard and you decided that you didn’t hate it. 

Not at all. 

But the boy was talking about the kiss and he was looking at you like you both shared a secret, despite the very public location it happened in. He was acting as if he liked it, as if he wanted you to admit that you did too. 

You stopped, converse digging into the wall the mats made, eyes wary on the boy because Steve kept walking. He found one side, then the other, only pausing when you were a foot away from him. He mirrored you, hands shoved into his own pockets as he watched you through messy hair. 

“What d’you want me to say, Harrington? Huh?” you smiled, sardonic, lips twisted to the side and gaze careful. You didn’t want to give anything away. “You want me to tell you that I liked it, is that it?”

Steve smirked, enjoying your tone, the teasing, the push of the taunt, the bite to your voice. He knew it so well. 

“You want me to tell you that you’re a good kisser? Does wonder boy need a little ego boost?”

“Oh princess, I don’t need anyone to tell me that.“

Steve’s voice was a drawl. Heavy, warm, sticking to you like the summer heat, all low, hot sun and sweetness. 

You were too warm, a tumble low in your stomach, a flush across your chest. 

“I’m good at a lot of things,” Steve continued,voice far too casual, as if he wasn't making you think about the dirtiest things imaginable. 

“You’re a pig.”

“You love it.”

“You fucking wish, Harrington.”

“Now you’re just flirting with me, princess.”

You weren’t sure when you’d moved closer. Neither was Steve, really. But you were once again in your favourite position with the boy, toe to toe and your chin tilted up defiantly to stare at him. He looked too happy, excited even. 

“I’m not playing your games,” you narrowed your eyes at him, hands on your hips in an arrogant display, trying your best to prove that you weren’t as affected by the boy as you actually were. 

The toes of his shoes brushed yours and you could smell his cologne, the forest on him, campfire smoke and pine, leftover rain and something minty. 

“No?” Steve asked and his eyes were tracing the features of your face, the length of your lashes, the dip of your Cupid’s bow, the curve of your lip. “Not even if I pick dare?“

You swallowed, hard. 

You weren’t sure what this was. Not anymore. Because it didn’t feel like the arguments you usually had, the poking and pushing and pulling at each other until something snapped and the yelling started. In fact, you were sure this was the quietest you’d ever been around Steve Harrington. 

Except for the thundering of your heart. It beat against your ribs, a drumming sound that you wondered if Steve would hear. It made your body vibrate, it made your chest feel fit to burst and you couldn’t help but part your lips under his stare, sucking in a breath that you suddenly so desperately needed. 

Steve did the same, an instinctual response to watching you, his tongue wetting at his bottom lip, his eyes heavy and hooded. You didn’t remember taking another step towards him, but you don’t recall Steve moving either. It was all a slow lean, a curl into each other’s bodies, slower and softer than the first time. 

Your hand was on his chest again, fingers splayed across his shirt rather than fisting it in your palm and god, you still really weren’t sure if it was to encourage him closer or shove him away. 

But then his touch was at your waist and the sun finally dipped below the windows and the hall went dark. The shadows sparkled as you got used to the lack of light, Steve’s face a pretty palette of lilacs and navy, the rosy tint of his lips looking deeper and closer to you than ever. 

The slide of your nose against his, stuttering and a little clumsy, unsure and nervous. Everything in your body was screaming at you. To push him away, to pull him towards you, to chew him out, to devour him. 

Steve fucking Harrington made you want to yell, to fight, to roll your eyes and rant for an hour and a half. Steve fucking Harrington made you want to be slammed against a wall, pushed down onto a bed, lips on your neck and kisses that were all tongue and teeth. 

His breath huffed against your cheek, slow and careful like he was still deciding what to do too. Steve was cherry cola and the heat of an argument, cedar and spice and bad decisions. Steve was a hot touch on your waist, a white hot burn through your shirt and a tight grip that was sending you to another level of frustration. 

Then light flooded the gym, a bright burst of it coming from the main doors as the very last of the low setting sun leaked through as they slammed open.

The noise of them hitting the wall made you both jump, the angry squeak of the hinges bringing both back to the harsh reality of who you were about to kiss. You stumbled and Steve tripped, falling backwards onto the crash mats with a soft “fuck” as you turned to see Nancy and Robin standing in the doorway. 

No one spoke, not for a few seconds and the quiet was painful. 

But then Nancy cleared her throat, a smirk on her face that she covered with her hand and Robin grinned. 

“Um, all the kids have been found,” she told you both, glee in her voice that she couldn’t cover and god, you were burning with a new kind of heat. “We’re doing story time.”

“And uh, one of you needs to take over,” Nancy explained, still smothering a laugh under what she thought was a serious expression. “Billy started talking about demogorgons and made Will cry, so…”

“Again?” Steve muttered from his seat on the mat. “I thought Eddie told him that it was all made up.”

You didn’t dare look down at him, your body still overly aware of his, his shoulder brushing against your thigh as he moved and when he clambered to his feet, you were spurned into motion, your legs carrying you quickly across the gym. 

Your shoes squeaked on the floor and your heart was still racing, leaving you feeling like a hormonal teenager who was out of control and unable to handle some stupid boy being too close. Grabbing Robin’s hand, you mumbled some sort of thanks to Nancy and then made up a lie about feeling sick, and how you needed to go back to your cabin now. 

Looking at your flushed skin and glassy eyes, no one could really argue with that. So you left Steve with the responsibility of the nightly campfire story and ignored Robin’s husky laughter as you pulled her through the trees and the dark until you got back to your shared bunk. 

You flew into the cabin like a bat out of hell, doing everything in your power to get away from the boy as quickly as you could. Robin was close behind you, still cackling before she slammed the door, just as you dumped yourself onto your bed, groaning. 

The other girl braced herself, back against the wood, facial expression scandalised as she stared at you wide eyed and through messy bangs. 

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but it looked like you and Harrington were about to rail each other on those fucking crash mats.”

You spluttered, the sound of protest getting caught in your throat as you tried to sit up, pushing yourself onto your elbows so you could glare at Robin, trying your best to look appalled. 

“What?!” You choked out, and you knew you were beetroot, you could feel the heat in your cheeks, the flush over your chest. “No we weren’t!”

“You know,” Robin mused, head tilted to the side as she looked at you, “your summer could be a lot more fun if you just admitted you don’t hate him as much as you claim to.”

Another noise came from your throat in response, strangled and panicked as you paced the cabin, old floorboards creaking under your feet. 

“I do hate him,” you insisted, turning your back to the girl to fuss over a pile of clothes you’d left on your dresser after laundry day. You wondered if she’d be able to see the lie on your face, if she could hear it in your voice. “Harrington is a pain in my ass, he has been since-”

“Seventh grade, yeah, yeah,” Robin interrupted, her voice bored and impatient, and she waved a dismissive hand at you. “Science fair, vegetables, Steve and mentos and his dad, I know.”

You glared at her, clothes abandoned, clean shorts dropping to the floor, your arms now crossed. You hated that you were pouting. 

“He didn’t look like he was causing you too much grief when you had him up against the gym wall the other week…”

“That was a dare!” 

“And now - in the gym again actually - do you have some sort of kink?”

“Robin…” you were groaning, pleading. 

“Is it a competitive thing? It gets you both going?”

“Nothing happened! We were- we were arguing!”

The other girl smirked, eyebrows raised and her back still pushed against the doorway. “Yeah, but babe, that’s foreplay for you.”

“I hate you,” you lied and there was no heat behind it, in fact, it only made your friend grin wider. 

“As much as Steve?” She asked, voice sweet. “Should I light some candles? Pop a mint?”

“You’re a dick,” your voice was mulish but you couldn’t find it in you to care. 

“You’re in denial,” Robin shot back, still sounding far too happy about the discussion. “Don’t you think all that pent up frustration could be easily solved?”

You rolled your eyes, knowing where this was going. The girl was moving towards you, eyebrows wiggling as she ran her hands over her chest in what you assumed was supposed to be a suggestive manner. 

“Y’know, there’s other things your mouths could do instead of arguing.”

You pretended to gag, face scrunched up at the thought of it and you went back to sorting through your laundry. “You sound like Murray.”

“I knew he was a sensible man,” she told you and you scoffed because you’d watched Murray Bauman light a firework with the end of Billy’s cigarette last summer. 

“But seriously, you’ve got to be attracted to him, right?”

“Murray?” You asked, all faux innocence, “he’s a bit old, no? Hopper, however-”

“You’re disgusting,” Robin snorted, grabbing at the pile of clothes you were hoarding, taking some of her own shirts to fold as she levelled you with a stare. “And you’re not fooling anyone. I’m very much gay - like, with a capital ‘G’ - and even I can say Steve is easy on the eyes.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” you tutted, “his head will get bigger.”

“Oh absolutely not.”

You fell into an easy silence then, clothes folded and sorted on your beds and you were surprised when Robin - perpetually messy - even went as far as to make her bed from that morning. 

It gave you too much time to think. About how the boy had been almost nice to you at some points this summer, helping you when you fell, teasing instead of scathing, always too close, always nearby. It made you notice him too much, made you far too aware of him. 

Like how his skin tanned so easily, new freckles every other day, how blue and yellow looked good on him, how when he got too close you noticed he had some green in his eyes. You knew he liked a smoothie for breakfast, he turned softer and quieter when speaking to Will, he encouraged Max to run faster, jump higher, swim deeper, that it was okay to be a little scared sometimes. 

You stopped, a choked breath of complete indignation leaving your lips and dropped the pyjamas you’d been folding and marched to the door. 

“Uh, where are you going?”

“To tell fucking Harrington that I know his game,” you seethed, “and that it’s not fucking working.”

Robin looked startled. “What?!”

You flung the door open and cringed when it hit the wooden wall behind it but you barely paid it any mind. The woods were dark, the sky inky and it smelled like rain was coming. 

“His game!” You urged, and god, you sounded a little manic, didn’t you? “He’s trying to get me to like him. And it’s not happening, he’s not winning!”

“Winning what?” Robin was almost yelling, confusion colouring her tone and she squinted at you. 

“I don’t know!” You told her, mouth agape because Jesus Christ, you really didn’t know, but you’d be damned if you let the boy think he had some kind of one up on you. 

“Babe, curfew is in like, ten minutes.”

 One glance at the clock on the wall told you that Robin was right, but stubbornness won out over sensibility so you made a strangled sound and shrugged, closing the door behind you a little too loudly and you made your way over the carpet of pine needles, heading towards the other cabins. 

—————

Eddie answered when you knocked, wearing an old, Metallica hoodie that was too big, his long curls pulled messily back into a bun and he grinned, arms crossed and leaning against the doorframe. 

“Now, I’m pretty certain you’re not here for me,” he told you, voice all light and full of a humour that you didn’t appreciate, “but there’s absolutely no fucking way you’re here for Harrington.”

You scowled.

“Is he in?”

Eddie cackled, pushing himself away from the door as he called out over his shoulder, looking thoroughly entertained. 

“Hey, big boy, you’ve got a lady caller.”

This was starting to seem like an incredibly bad idea. Your irritation had waned slightly as you’d marched across the dark forest, the fresh air soothing your anger just a touch. But before you could change your mind, Steve appeared at the door, barefoot and shirtless, his hair messy and wearing nothing but a pair of low slung grey sweats. 

For the love of fucking god. 

He had a towel thrown over his shoulder, like he’d planned on taking a shower, but he seemed content to stay and talk to you, his body leaning lazy on the door frame like Eddie had. 

“Princess,” Steve greeted, sounding bemused, “is this a booty call?”

From inside the cabin, Eddie snorted and you both made a point of ignoring him. 

“Absolutely fucking not,” you told him, outraged at the idea of it. But you were warm again, tongue feeling clumsy and too thick in your mouth and you started to wondered when the fuck Steve Harrington made you feel nervous. “And that’s the reason I’m here, actually.”

Steve simply raised his brows, crossing his arms over his chest. He tilted his head, a small smile on his lips. 

“Oh?”

“Mhmm, yeah,” you were stalling, trying to remember why you were actually standing outside with Steve at nine o’clock at night. His arms were entirely too distracting, the muscles there tensing and flexing as he moved. “I know what you're up to, Harrington.”

“You do?” Steve smirked, entirely entertained the way your gaze landed on his shoulders, his bare chest. “What am I up to, exactly?”

“This shit, that you keep pulling,” you told him, gesturing between the two of you. The space there crackled, it popped and buzzed with something unseen and electric, and you swore Steve felt it too. He had to, right? “This flirty, ‘lemme help you walk down the mountain’ crap.”

Steve was staring. And from inside, on his bed, Eddie was cackling again. 

“Would you rather I’d left you to hobble down by yourself?” Steve asked, lips twisted to hide his amusement. Your eyes were flashing with annoyance, and you’d leant against the porch fence for support, back to the wood and hands curled around the ledge. “Let a mountain lion get you?”

“There aren’t any mountain lions in Indiana,” you replied scathingly. 

“A bear then,” Steve shrugged, and Christ, he was grinning again, dimple and all. “Anyway, you think I’m flirting with you, princess?”

You stared, suddenly speechless. 

“I’d have more luck getting Munson into bed with me than managing to have a pleasant conversation with you, sweetheart.”

But then Eddie was yelling from inside the cabin, a pillow hitting Steve’s back as he called out, “ready when you are, honey.”

Steve ignored him, eyes still on you. “If you think that I’m flirting with you, you’re sorely mistaken.”

He oozed too much confidence, sarcasm and charm. 

It pissed you off. 

“Well then stop it!” you growled, pushing yourself off of the porch fence and moving towards Steve. You stared up at him, stubborn, face tilted up to him, eyes defiant. You couldn’t help but push a finger into his bare chest. God, he was warm. “Stop doing-”

“Stop doing what? Huh?” Steve was smiling. Why was he smiling?

You stumbled over your breath, it hitched in your throat and honestly it only caused more anger to bubble in your chest. Was it anger? Annoyance? Frustration?

“Stop - stop, getting all close to me all the time, stop calling me princess and stop doing this thing where you’re clearly trying to distract me.”

Steve raised his brows, looking down at the small space between the two of you. He tilted his head, smirk dripping with amusement and you knew you could argue anymore. You’d moved to him, chests almost brushing, warmth radiating off of him to you, sharing the same air. 

Fuck. 

“Do I distract you?”

The facade dropped. The game, the challenge, the fight - whatever it was - it stopped. Genuine surprise coloured the boy's tone and he uncrossed his arms, leaving his chest open and more space between you both. He was so warm, you could feel it from his skin, like the sun lived in his chest and he swallowed the summer. 

Steve looked shy, all of a sudden. Face flushed, eyes bright and wide and his lips dropped into a pretty ‘o’. Even in the dark, you could make out the pink of his cheeks, the tips of his ears and he was looking at you like an entirely different kind of challenge. A puzzle maybe, a new type of game. 

“What?” you were panicking inside. That white hot flash of embarrassment ran up your spine, blooming over your chest until blood rushed loud in your ears. “What? No, I didn’t say that.”

“You definitely just said that.” There it was, that smile again. 

“I didn’t,” you scoffed, eyes searching anywhere but his. You stared at the door behind him, groaning when Eddie waved from his bed, grin wider than Steve’s. 

“You did,” Eddie added to the conversation, all soft smiles and messy curls. “I heard you.”  

Suddenly you had had enough of boys. 

“Oh for fuck sake.”

You stormed away from Steve with more swears mixing in with the night air, your frustration taken out on the stairs as you stomped back down them, trainers kicking up pine needles and fallen acorns as you made your way back to your own cabin, completely done with Steve fucking Harrington.

PART TWO

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Ko-Fi ♡