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underoossss · 1 year

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Head over Heels - S.H

masterlist

pairing: steve harrington x grumpy!f!reader

summary: Steve falls for Robin’s grumpy friend, and he falls hard.

warnings: family problems mention, trust issues, angst, hurt/comfort, no spoilers, (there’s fluff I promise!!!)

grumpy x sunshine trope

an: I know this is the first Steve fic I’ve posted IN FOREVER and I’m sorry! my writer’s block, personal problems, work and health, have all contributed to how long it took me to finish this. But I promise to make it worth your while, this is the same length as babe baby beautiful and I hope it makes you happy. I dedicate this to all my grumpy beloveds out there, who, like me. don’t relate 100% to the sunshine tropes bc sometimes life just freaking sucks. I poured my heart out with this one so, I hope this comforts you and that you like it! Please let me know. 💘

——-

The September breeze pushes Steve’s hair back as he makes his way to the Hawkin’s start-of-autumn fair, a new thing the town is trying out to make the citizens feel more upbeat after all the incidents they’ve experienced. His friends trail after him, Mike and Lucas arguing over something he doesn’t understand, Max listening to Dusting complain about some prank the soccer team played on the Hellfire Club and Robin walking by his side. Everyone shouts food orders over their shoulder, running towards the picnic tables in search for an empty one, and leaving Steve and Robin alone.

His friend is rambling by his side, and Steve nods along to what she’s telling him. She has a new friend this year, met her at homeroom when she was introduced as a new student. A senior like Robin, she got along with her just fine. I talk a lot and she doesn’t, it’s a good fit, I think she really needed a friend that day, Robin says, and now she’s friends with all of us. Steve hums in understanding, switching schools in senior year sounds awful, and he wonders why you chose to do that. He wouldn’t, unless it was for something serious.

“Anyway here she comes!” Robin says excitedly, waving you over. “I can’t believe she actually came, she’s not comfortable with strangers and she doesn’t know you. I thought she’d sit this one out.”

Steve follows Robin’s line of sight and spots you walking towards them in the distance. Baby blue sweater, light washed jeans and black high-top converse, make you stand out from the orange foliage around you. Your face is serious as you get closer, only breaking into a small smile when you wave at Robin and accept her hug. When you step back your face morphs back to neutrality, a slight furrow to your brow as you hide your hands in your back pockets.

Robin says your name and motions towards Steve. “This is Steve, the friend I told you about.” She explains, “He’s our chauffeur, monster-fighter and designated babysitter.”

Steve furrows his brows and looks sideways at Robin before he looks at you and grins. “Hi, nice to meet you.” He offers his hand and you give it one quick shake before pulling back and looking away. Steve wasn’t expecting that reaction, but he guesses what Robin said is true, you don’t like strangers.

“We’re going to get Apple fritters! They have massive ones here and they serve them with big scoops of ice cream.” Robin tells you, glancing down the line as it moves. There are only three people left to order, so the three of you step into line. “Let me check if they’re still doing the ice cream on top.”

With that, Steve is left to wait next to you until Robin is back. You shift from one leg to another, almost nervously and Steve glances at you. Your eyes meet his and then look away, not scared or nervous, just looking away like you can’t be bothered to make conversation with him. Is he intimidating? Steve asks himself or are you just a massive buzzkill that can’t even comment on the weather.

Steve tries again, scratching his cheek. “So, uh, you’re in senior year like Robin?”

You nod, looking down at your feet before looking at him. “Yeah, we have a lot of classes together. I know the guys over there as well.” Your hand lifts to point at Eddie, who’s just arrived at the table, and the kids talking around him.

Huh, so you do speak, Steve notes, but only when prompted. “Cool.” He nods, looking at your face and noticing the way you look away immediately. “So why did you move to Hawkins all of a sudden? I mean senior year, that’s gotta be rough.”

You press your lips together, looking uncomfortable by the question. Steve has the faint idea that he asked the wrong thing. “I should go say hi to everyone.” You say after an awkward cough. “If there’s ice cream can you tell Robin I’m good with cookie dough?”

Steve wordlessly takes the 5 bucks you hand him and sees you rush away from him. In the distance he can see everyone’s faces light up when they spot you, beckoning you over with excited waves, and your reluctant barely there smile as you greet them and sit down. Steve doesn’t get it; he is half mortified and half confused when Robin comes back. How is it that everyone is your friend when you’re so closed off and Steve doesn’t want to say it but… grumpy.

“Are you sure your friend wants to be here?” Steve asks Robin, looking over at you again. You’re sitting with your elbows leaning on the table, listening to everyone talk around you, neutral expression on your face. Bored, even.

“Of course, she does.” Robin is quick to say. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, she doesn’t look too thrilled to be talking to you.” Steve shrugs.

“You clearly don’t know her.” Robin shakes her head. “What did you do?”

“I only asked her about her move to Hawkins.” Steve holds his hands up defensively, then adds. “She said she likes cookie dough ice cream.”

They pause their conversation to order the fritters and pay, then continue talking while they wait.

“Okay, you shouldn’t have asked that. First of all.” Robin rolls her eyes, “Second of all, she’s friends with all of us.”

Steve huffs in disbelief. “Oh so she likes you? That’s her I like you face.”

“She adores us, you… not really but that’s cause she doesn’t know you.” Robin nods with certainty, then worries her bottom lip. “The move question is just tricky for her.”

Steve moves to say something when their order is called, and she go back to the booth to take the trays laid out in front of them. There are eight apple fritters with ice cream they have to juggle back to the table but manage to fit in their hands and arms.

“Look Steve.” Robin says seriously, lowering her voice after a sigh.” She slows her pace, so they take longer to get back to the table. “She has been through a rough time; I won’t tell you what because it took her a long time to trust me enough to open up.”

“Okay…” Steve nods, going over her words and feeling a soft pang of guilt. He wouldn’t have judged you so harshly if he knew you were struggling with something. He wouldn’t have asked you about you changing towns. “You could’ve told me that before I messed up earlier. Before I was bitchy too.”

“You’re always bitchy.” Robin huffs, then hums when she looks at you sitting in the distance. “She’s wonderful Steve, in her own way, so don’t judge her by the way she presents herself. When she trusts you, you’ll see what I‘m talking about.” She gives him a pointed look.

Robin’s words echo in his head as they reach the picnic table and hand over the food to their friends. Steve places yours in front of you with a nod to which you say thank you. Now that he knows a little more about you, Steve guesses you were both left with a bad first impression. They aren’t his forte, and it’s not his fault you weren’t the same person with him as you are with Robin. You don’t know each other, of course it was going to be awkward. Steve sees what Robin means as everyone chats and eats; he sees it in the way your eyes soften, and lips smile slightly when Max begins to tell you something. He sees it in the way you lean closer to the redhead and whisper something that has her laughing soon after; you smile as well before turning your attention back to the group. Dustin and Eddie are planning some sort of revenge on the jocks from the soccer team who messed up something in their Hellfire Room.

Steve tries to focus on what they’re saying but he’s too busy looking at you, trying to figure you out. What happened? What’s the thing that you told Robin that made you keep the gentleness you showed to Max tucked away? You feel him looking at you and meet his eyes, it’s a distrustful glance from the way you narrow your eyes at him. Okay, Steve probably stared at you too long. He looks away and hears you sigh before you do too, tuning back into the conversation between the Hellfire club sitting at the other end of the picnic table.

“That’s a horrible plan.” You say plainly, making Max snort and Eddie pause the conversation. The metalhead rolls his eyes –no annoyance, no malice in sight. Steve supposes Eddie knows you like Robin does.

“Why is that, buttercup?” Eddie asks.

“They’ll know it was you, and they’ll beat you up, Munson.” You tell him seriously with an eye roll of your own –Steve doesn’t need to know you to catch the concern in your tone. “Put some laxatives in their protein powders instead.”

Steve lets out a bark of laughter that startles the table; that would be a good prank if he’s being honest. Everyone turns to look at him, including you and Steve clears his throat. “It’s a good idea.” He mumbles rubbing his chin, then meets your eyes briefly to find something like amusement in them.

“No, no, no.” Dustin shakes his head. “It is an objectively good plan, there’s no way they’ll know it’s us.”

“Yeah, we’ll wait for them to leave and then sneak into the locker room.” Eddie adds. “We’ll seal their lockers shut, they can’t change into their gear the next day and their coach yells their ears off.”

“The perfect plan.” Dustin says proudly and looks around the take to see who agrees.

“You sure they won’t be able to trace the prank back to you? See it as immediate revenge for what they did?” Max asks nodding towards you, “She’s right.”

“We’re absolutely sure.” Eddie confirms with a nod, clapping his hands in front of him.

“Can I read the eulogy at your funeral then?” You ask Eddie and Dustin with fake enthusiasm. “I call dibs.”

Steve chuckles and next to him, Robin fakes discontent as she rolls her eyes. “Damn, I wanted to do it.”

You send a smile her way before you clear your throat. “Eddie and Dustin died as they lived.” Your words are solemn as you speak. “With bad plans and too much confidence that they’ll work.”

“They always work.” Eddie says, chuckling at your words with everyone else. You simply raise one eyebrow at him, which Steve must admit is hot, and Eddie shakes his head. “I guess they sort of work.”

“So, laxatives?” Dustin asks Eddie after a minute, a defeated hunch to his shoulders.

“Laxatives.” Eddie and the rest of Hellfire repeats before the table bursts into laughter– including Steve.

His eyes don’t leave you though. You’re not laughing like everyone else but there’s a small smile on your face. It is reserved but softens your face in the loveliest way. It shows him you are enjoying their company despite the otherwise inexpressive look on your face. Steve begins to wonder then… if he wins your trust, the one you have with Robin and Max, will you smile at him the same way you do with them? Bright and beautiful enough to blind him? He guesses it would be worth a shot, getting to know you more, because if he’s being honest, he’s intrigued.

--------

The next time Steve sees you it’s at a party. It’s mid-October and the cold weather turns it up a notch with the cold bite to the air. He wouldn’t have gone to the party in the first place, if he’s being honest, but Robin forced him to go. Everyone will be there she’d said but Steve didn’t know who everyone would be. Only when he arrived at Kevin Rotner’s house did he begin to recognize some familiar faces. Nancy, Johnathan, and Eddie arrive at the same time he does and the five of them walk up the driveway and the small path leading to the front porch. There’s loud chatter inside and a boombox playing to the loudest volume in the dinning room. There are people sitting in the staircase laughing at a joke and more loud conversation coming from the backyard. He navigates the house with his friends until Robin spots you in the kitchen, and Steve doesn’t know why he’s so nervous when he sees you. You greet Robin with a hug and shrug when she tells you something, he can hear. Your face is pretty and serious as you look over Robin’s shoulder, spotting everyone else coming to say hi. Steve sees you take a deep breath before you greet everyone — almost as if you’re preparing yourself for small talk and hugs. He greets you last, more open and approachable than last time, and he’s surprised when you wave. “Hi, Steve.”

Something inside Steve jumps, but he thinks it’s only his own surprise. He’s about to say something, when Robin and Nancy take your hand and drag you away with the promise of some new gossip, they have to tell you.

Steve talks to a few people here and there; mostly the ones he’s kept in touch with after high school. Other than that, he doesn’t know anyone else; he doesn’t know if it’s cause he’s grown up but he’s not really having fun. There are people jumping into the pool despite the weather while those who mind the cold have gathered inside the house. Steve’s mostly avoiding the crowds, where the air is too hot despite winter being near, while keeping an eye out for his friends. Nancy and Jonathan are talking to some people he doesn’t know in the kitchen, Robin is trying not to combust while she talks to her crush —her lab partner in biology— and Eddie is walking around the entire party with his lunchbox.

When Steve sees you again, you are people watching in the living room, eyes trained on a few people in the middle of the room. He moves to stand next to you, and you shift your gaze towards him but say nothing; Steve thinks it means it’s okay if you stand here. Your foot taps to the music –Tears for Fears’ Head Over Heels –and your head moves almost imperceptibly to the music. The two of you are quiet for a while, and it’s not awkward like Steve expected it to be, not after the way he messed up at the fair. He’s pleasantly surprised, and relaxes a bit more next to you, slouching slightly against the wall. One of your arms is crossed over your chest while your other elbow rests on it, a red cup in your hand. The music continues to play and your eyes are still trained on the people talking in the living room, they’re some old Hawkins High students Steve kind of recognizes. There’s Angela and Karen, Bradley and Peter and some other people he doesn’t know the names of. Steve leans his weigh on his right leg, which brings him closer to you.

You don’t move away, simply pass him your red cup. Steve moves to shake his head no and say he’s driving, but you speak up before he does. “It’s only soda.” You say and nod at the cup that Steve takes the cup from you shortly after.

“What’re you watching?” Steve asks.

“The only interesting thing that’s going to happen in this party I think.” You look at him finally and lean closer, Steve isn’t sure you’re aware of it. “I think there’s going to be a fight.”

Your eyes hold amusement in them, like you’re excited for what’s about to happen. The tiniest movement of your mouth has Steve glancing down, you’re grinning, barely; he thinks it’s cute.

Steve’s eyebrows raise, interest spiked, and is about to say something when you turn your head again. Bradley is saying something to Angela, his voice loud and slurred but incomprehensible over the music, and not a second later an equally intoxicated Peter swings a punch at him. Another girl, who Steve doesn’t know, confronts Angela they start arguing with Karen joining the fight. Bradley and Peter fall to the ground, wrestling each other while others try to break the fight.

“Wait isn’t she?” Steve’s mind catches up the everything that happened puts two and two together. He’s pretty Angela is dating Bradley, not Peter.

“Yup.” You say with a shrug, tilting your head. “It was all a matter of time before it happened.” It’s all you say, then chuckle. Steve does too, he can’t help himself at the sound of your own laughter, until the two of you are giggling at the fight in front of you.

The music changes then, to something more upbeat, and Steve’s mind can only think about asking you to dance. Would you say yes? Probably not. Before he can ask you though, you step away from the wall. More people have gathered in the living room to watch the fight, and you decide to make your way to the front door. Do crowds bother you? Steve wonders.

“Wait.” Steve goes after you and closes the door behind him. “Where are you going?”

“Home.” Your back is turned to him. The cream-coloured sweater you wear over your lilac skirt and your black boots look lovely on you, and so does your hair. Steve doesn’t know why but he thinks it frames your face perfectly. There’s also a hint of remaining lip-gloss on your lips that shines with the streetlamp’s light… and Steve, well Steve thinks You’re so pretty.

“It’s cold, don’t tell me you’re going to walk.” Steve speaks again, shaking away his previous thoughts.

You shrug, “I usually do, it’s not too far.”

Steve doesn’t know where you live but he knows Rotner lives far away from almost everyone in Hawkins. Your house is probably far away. “I’ll drive you.” Steve offers, but you sigh and look away.

“Go back to the party Steve, you can drive Robin home.” You say simply. “I’ll see you around.”

“No, she can go with Nancy.” He follows you until he’s walking next to you. “It’s not safe for you to walk home, come on.”

You sigh again and look up at the sky, annoyed. If you’re annoyed, then he’s too, because you’re making a dumb decision for the sake of being stubborn. And you probably don’t know that he’s stubborn too, so you might have to argue all night about whether this decision is right or not. Why is it so hard for you to accept a ride home? You offered him soda and were talking to him just now; it was nice. More than nice.

“I won't stop asking.” Steve says, crossing his arms and stepping in front of you.

Your eyes meet his in an intense half-glare, and Steve can’t help but think how nice your eyeliner looks on you. It does something to him he hasn’t felt in a while. He feels like he can’t breathe while heat creeps up the back of his neck —it’s October, he shouldn’t feel hot at all. A moment later you roll your eyes, though backing down first, and giving Steve some time to breathe as you turn around.

“Alright.”

Steve can’t help smiling in triumph, knowing he just won, and follows you as you walk towards his car further down the road. Amusement paints his eyes as he looks at you; your lips are pursed, and a huff escapes you.

“You’re pouting” Steve says, looking at your lips and the annoyed look on your face. It makes him smile. You’re pouting.

“I’m not” You look sideways at him.

“Oh, you are.”

“Shut up, Harrington.” You say and he laughs, opening the passenger’s door for you.

-------

From then on Steve does his best to increase his charm and be a gentleman. He offers you his help as well as rides home whenever he can, especially when you’re alone. The last thing he wants is for you to think that he’s only being nice when your common friends are around. Steve sees you more often now, not as much as he’d like, he must admit, but enough to know more about you. What you’re okay with sharing, more like.

As he suspected from the party, you don’t like crowds (they make you nervous), and when Steve asked why you’d changed the topic. You work at the Deli on Main Street, have a younger brother named Chris, and you love coffee. He always sees you drinking one in the morning when he gives both you and Robin a ride to school, and whenever he stops by at the deli for lunch during your shift. Most important of all, Steve is starting to see what Robin meant when she said not to judge a book based on its cover. Because, despite your grumpy exterior, there’s a whole personality hidden underneath.

Steve can tell. There are hints and pieces; from the way you dress, to the music you like, and comic books you read and often exchange with Max. When he takes the time to look, he sees the gentleness with which you do things, and the care with which you treat your friends. He also sees your distrust for what it is: fear. You’re afraid, to let new people in, to get hurt, and Steve doesn’t know why.

He wishes there was something he could do to fix it, to make you see the glass half full instead of half empty, or to change your sporadic pessimism. But then he figures, he would be changing you, and that’s not something he wants. If he’s being honest, your friend group (Steve isn’t sure if he’s your friend, officially at least) needed someone with an objective outlook on life to set their heads straight. And if he’s honest with himself, he likes all the things that make you you. He likes your confidence when you don’t care what people think about you. He likes it when you fight with Robin over who chooses the music, despite it being his car. And he's pretty much obsessed with your face; the hard set of your jaw when you get impatient, the brow you silently arch that makes him feel things he shouldn’t, and the silent way you listen to conversation, only speaking up when you think it’s necessary. Steve is more than a bit obsessed.

He had been wrong that first day. He didn’t know you and wrongly assumed you weren’t happy to be there with them, when you actually were. He reflects upon it now that he knows your facial expressions; your eyebrows had been relaxed, and your eyes didn’t have a hard edge to them. You had been at ease, only closing yourself off when Steve tried to dig into your move to Hawkins. He really started off with the wrong foot, but it all takes a turn on a Friday night.

You visit FV for a tape mid-afternoon, surprising Steve at work. The weather is more than chilly outside, and Steve notices right away how you have no jacket on, only a dark red sweater. He’d been doing some paperwork behind the counter when the bell over the door for his attention. It rewarded him with the sight of you walking in, looking around before your eyes settle on him.

“Hey, Steve.” You say voice light as you approach him and lean your elbows on the counter. “Do you have karate kid available? My brother is begging us to watch it again tomorrow.”

Steve doesn’t know why but he struggles to speak for a moment —it probably has to do with the fact that you look very pretty, and two, this interaction is so different from your first one he shortcircuits. After a long pause you raise a questioning eyebrow, “You okay?”

Steve clears his throat. “Yeah. Um, we have it, let me go get it.”

“Thank you.” You nod as he dashes away from the counter.

“Did you walk here?” Steve asks once he’s cleared his head and reaches the action movie aisle. He sees you shrug over the stands.

“I usually do, I don’t mind it.” You explain simply.

“You’re not wearing a jacket though.” Steve grabs Karate Kid and goes back to the counter. Why are you always out in the cold without a jacket? It’s a miracle you haven’t fallen sick, he thinks.

“I left school in a rush, I was gonna be late for work.” You shrug again, eyes visibly lighting up when you spot the movie. “Thank God. Chris would have been insufferable if someone beat me to it.”

Steve crouches down behind the counter and retrieves his own jacket —a grey bomber— before placing it on the counter in front of you. “Here.”

“Steve,” You tell him seriously, rolling your eyes. “I’m not taking your jacket.”

“Why not? You’re the one walking out in the cold, I only have to walk towards my car.” He dismisses your refusal with a wave of his hand.

“Hey!” Robin says, calling your name as she emerges from the back room. “Perfect timing, I was going to call you.”

“Here to rent karate kid.” You tell her, a small smile on your face.

“And choosing hypothermia over my jacket.” Steve chimes in, sliding his jacket pointedly towards you.

“It’s not that cold Steve.” You roll your eyes at him again, “But I know you’ll annoy me until I say yes.”

Steve gives you a triumphant smile and you shake your head, Steve would even say it’s shyly, before you take the jacket and shrug it on. “The movie? Please.”

Robin speaks up while Steve rings you up. “We’re gonna hang out at Nancy’s tonight. The kids will be there too, you should come.”

Steve risks a glance at you, in his jacket; a huge mistake. He seriously underestimated his reaction to seeing you in his clothes, because it is downright adorable and something he was unprepared for. The sleeves go past your hands and the whole thing is oversized on you, his shoulders being broader than yours and his torso longer. Steve bites back a smile —he hopes you never give it back to him; this is a sight he’d love to see more often. He turns back to the computer to hide his grin from you and silently hopes you’ll say yes.

“Will there be other people?” You ask Robin, and Steve is quick to shake his head no and reassure you. Too quick.

“Just the usual gang.” Steve tells you, clearing his throat to hide his eagerness. “No one else.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Robin insists with a smile, then moves her gaze towards Steve, who tries to ignore the way she raises a knowing eyebrow at him. He’s gonna have an earful once you leave, he can bet on it.

“Okay, I’ll be there.” You nod, then exchange some cash for the movie Steve hands to you. “Thank you, Steve.”

Steve leans his forearms on the counter, trying to give you his most charming smile to see if he’ll get one of those you give Robin in return. “We’ll pick you up after work.” Steve says and you look into his eyes for a long second before nodding.

“Sure.” You shrug, eyes shifting away from his. “I’ll see you guys later.”

------

At Nancy’s, chaos ensues. The kids argue over what board-game to play while Eddie and Robin argue over what record to play next. Steve is listening to Nancy and Jonathan talk about a volunteering drive she’s organizing and from where he stands, he can see you leaning against the wall next to Robin. Your face is neutral as you listen to the record that’s currently playing, tuning out Eddie’s argument for the most part until you speak up.

“Or you can let me choose?” You ask calmly, glancing at them briefly before going back to looking down at your feet.

“No!” Both Eddie and Robin say at the same time, and Steve notices the corner of your mouth twitch upwards.

“You chose this one, buttercup.” Eddie says with a sigh. “You’re only gonna choose one to annoy us.”

This earns Eddie an eye roll. “How exactly do you know that?” You ask. “It could’ve been a great pick, now you’ll never know Munson.”

Steve tries to tune back into Nancy’s explanation when Max pushes the board game she wanted to play away with a huff. It clatters to the ground as she stands from her place in front of the coffee table. You spot her and call her name only a moment later.

“Hey Max, I got the new Wonder Woman!” You say after a moment when the read-head stops glaring daggers at the boys.

Her eyes light up, a dramatic change from the look in her eyes moments ago. “Really? Can I see it?”

“‘Course, I brought it for you.” You roll your eyes, this time full of fondness, and nod towards the kitchen. “It’s in my bag.”

Steve can’t follow your conversation because the doorbell rings, signalling the pizza Nancy ordered arrived. The weather feels much colder than earlier as he opens the door and steps outside, he pays for the pizza, tips the delivery guy and goes back inside. Arms full of pizza boxes, he walks back to the dining table, shooting a pointed look at Dustin and Mike. “Zip it or you don’t get a single slice.”

The high schoolers move more discarded boardgames away from the table in a heartbeat, scrambling to undo their mess and opening the pizza boxes in a hurry. Steve spots you still standing in the kitchen talking to Max as everyone helps themselves to pizza and decides to let you both know the food is ready.

“So, you skate too?” Max is asking you excitedly, leaning her hip against the kitchen counter.

You chuckle — it hits Steve in the chest and Steve doesn’t know what to do with that. “I do,” You grin, “I mean I used to when I lived in Indianapolis, but I haven’t since I moved here.”

“We can go to the skate-park tomorrow.” Max proposes raising her eyebrows, “If you want.”

You nod, “Sure. I’ll look for my skateboard tonight, let’s hope I still remember how to use it.”

“Pizza’s here.” Steve says, interrupting and smiling at you both. When your eyes meet his, your lips move to smile but in a matter of seconds you stop yourself.

It makes Steve furrow his brows and walk over to you as Max leaves to grab a slice. “You okay?” Steve asks, and your eyes meet his again briefly before they dart away as you sidestep him.

You make your way to the front door in a rush, this time though you do grab your jacket—his jacket— on the way. Just like he did the night of the party, Steve follows you, worried and confused at your reaction. Robin glances at him from the dining table, an unspoken question in her eyes but Steve can only shrug. He is certain he didn’t do anything wrong just now, but somehow, he messed up because you just fled from him.

“Stop.” Steve says after calling your name. “What happened?”

“Nothing, I just need some air. You should go back inside Steve.” Your back is to him, shoulders tense and close to your ears defensively.

“No,” He shakes his head. His lips go down into a frown briefly as he looks at your back. He voices the question he always asks himself when you shut him down. “Did I do something?”

“No.” You say when you turn, eyebrows meeting in the middle as you glare at him but Steve sees the way you struggle to hold it in place. After a second it falls, and your face just crumples to exhausted look. “I want to be alone.” You whisper.

“You think a glare and a pout are intimidating enough to drive me away?” Steve shakes his head.

“I don’t pout.” You say, lips pursed and jaw tense. Pouting.

“You do and it’s not working.”

You change tactics then, raising an eyebrow and staring him down like the night at the party but Steve shakes his head. “That’s not working either.”

“Why are you insisting so much on this!” You finally ask, raising your voice and crossing your arms in front of you. Your jaw clenches as you look away and Steve sees your eyes squeeze shut.

He runs a hand down his face and breathes out. “Whether you like it or not there are people who want to get to know you.”

“What, like you?” Your eyes cut a suspicious look Steve’s way and he can see your walls come back up right in front of him. A tear falls down your cheek and you’re quick to wipe it away, harshly. “Why?”

Steve throws his hands up in the air, exasperated but not raising his voice, “To be your friend! Just like Robin and Eddie are your friends.” His shoulders move up and down, trying to cover up how much he likes you and looks forward to your company. “Why are you so distrustful, is it something I did?”

“It’s not about you, Steve.” Your eyebrows meet in the middle again, and you look away from him, directing your gaze to the snow-covered lawn. “If… If it bothers you so much, why do you even want to be my friend? Because you’re wrong Steve. No one else does, and I’m more than fine with that.”

Steve shakes his head, knowing you’re lying to him and trying to convince yourself. His voice softens. “Because despite it, I like you, I think you’re… cool.”

“Cool?” The way you raise your eyebrows makes Steve chuckle.

Funny, caring, fucking beautiful, Steve wants to say but he just nods his head at your question.

“Yeah, and you’re interesting, and I… want to be your friend.” Steve’s hands settle on his hips as he shifts his weigh to one leg, looking down to the ground. Glancing at you briefly, he drops his voice to whisper your name. “Don’t leave. I’m not lying… that’s what worries you right?”

Steve assumes that’s where your distrust comes from; you told him it wasn’t something he did, then it must be that you’re scared to trust him. He’s known there are many feelings behind your hard exterior, one of them being fear. Steve doesn’t want you to fear him, and he wonders who broke your trust in the past. Silence settles between the two of you; you seem to be going over his words and Steve is giving you the time to do so. He’d wait an hour if necessary and reassure you a thousand times if it would mean you believe him. Steve panics when he sees you swallow hard and shift your eyes at the sky, the last thing he wanted to do was make you cry.

But you don’t cry. Instead, you take a deep breath and look into his eyes. There’s a vulnerability there that awakens an urge in Steve to hug you. “You promise?” Your voice is a whisper, but he hears you clear as day. You’ve never spoken so softly before, and Steve wishes it could have happened under other circumstances.

Steve looks into your eyes and nods with sincerity, hoping you can see he’s being completely honest with you. “Yes.”

“I do like you, Steve. You just scare me.” You look down at the ground for a moment and nod to yourself as Steve’s eyebrows shoot hop in surprise. A moment later, your eyes drift back to Steve and there are emotions dancing around in them he’s never seen before. “I’m sorry.”

Steve nods and something inside him tightens when you offer a small smile. It’s like something shifts between the two of you despite neither of you moving. In a matter of seconds, everything feels easy, natural, like the brief moment your shared at the party in October. Steve realizes it’s because you’ve let your guard down; you stand differently in front of him, more comfortable, less apprehensive. You scare me. “You wanna tell me why?”

You press your lips together and shake your head. “Another time, maybe?”

Steve tries to hold back a smile, but he can’t, it takes over his entire face. When he sees you shiver, he offers his hand. “Let’s go back inside, or I can drive you home if you want to leave.”

“I can stay a bit longer.” You say when you grab his hand –an electric shock goes up his arm. “I really want some pizza. But if they play Monopoly I’m definitely leaving.”

Steve’s laughter follows you as he leads the two of you back to the house.

The coffee cup Steve places in front of you at work the next Monday lands with a soft thud on the counter. It’s black coffee with some milk and sugar; the way Steve’s learned you take it every day. The sound and his presence make you look up at him over the top of your book, a doubtful eyebrow raised and a serious look on your face. Fuck your pretty, Steve thinks. Your eyes shift from the coffee to his face a couple of times before you close your book.

“What’s this?” You ask, leaning back on your seat and tilting your head.

Steve leans his elbows on the counter in front of you and tilts his head right back. “Considering you drink around 5 of these a day, one would think you’ll know what it is.”

“Ah, that’s where you’re mistaken. I actually drink 10.” You deadpan, looking at him with fake disappointment. “I thought you knew me, now that we’re friends and all.”

Steve laughs, looks down and shakes his head. When he looks at you again, there’s a half smile on your face. “Come on.” He says. “Let’s go grab some food.”

“I literally work at a deli, Steve.” You tell Steve seriously, motioning to your surroundings. “We’re surrounded by food.”

Steve copies what you just said with a roll of his eyes and smiles again. “I mean something else, babe. Come on.”

With a sigh you stand up from your seat and round the counter, leaving your apron behind. “You’re lucky I get a break in a couple of minutes.” You tell Steve before yelling over your shoulder. “Hank I’ll be back!”

Steve’s eyes light up and he considers his visit a triumph. He’s becoming surer and surer his feelings for you go beyond friendship and fondness and lean more towards: I want to hold your hand all the time, and cuddle you while we watch movies then forget about the movie and get lost on you. He wants to put his arm around your shoulder freely, have you lean your weigh against him and steal a kiss, probably more than one. No. It won’t ever happen so Steve shouldn’t even be thinking about it. He opens the passenger’s door to his car for you and smiles when you get in, your coffee in your hand.

It becomes a routine of sorts, either you visit him at Family Video bringing sandwiches for him and Robin or he picks you up, a coffee waiting for you in his car and drives you wherever feels right that day to eat your lunch. You talk about your day, or whatever gossip you heard that day. One day you even confessed to be scared about graduation.

“Everyone is so excited to finish school, and here I am so terrified about the future I haven’t opened any of my college application letters.” You muttered, picking at a loose thread on your sweater.

“Why are you scared?” Steve asked you and you swallow hard.

You turned your body on your seat, facing him as you shrugged. “I feel lost, I don’t know what I should major in. I also don’t know where I’d like to go, and I can't even research these colleges without panic settling on my chest.” Your eyebrows furrowed and your jaw got tense and Steve knew that meant you felt angry and this time it was at yourself.

Steve took your hand without a second thought, but you let him. “You know, you don’t have to figure it all out right now.”

“It feels like it.” You whispered looking at him, frustration and embarrassment shining in your eyes. “Everyone else has it figured out.”

Steve shook his head; you shouldn’t feel embarrassed with him. “If there’s something I’ve learned about you, is that you don’t care about what other people are doing. What do you want?”

“I ask myself that question every day.” You mirrored his head shake and looked away. “Let’s talk about something else. Please?”

Steve was happy to change the subject, anything to cheer you up. By the time you go back to the Deli to continue your shift, he realized it was the first personal thing you’ve told him. Ever. It made him happier than he cared to admit.

-----

Two months after your talk in Nancy’s driveway, you invite Robin, Nancy, Eddie, Jonathan and Steve to your house. It’s the first time you’ve let anyone other than Robin into your home, this time for movie night. Your father and brother went back to Indianapolis to pick up other stuff from your old house, you said, it’s perfect timing. Steve and Robin arrive together, and shortly afterwards Eddie’s knocking on the door.

Your house is cozy and simply decorated with a forest green comfy looking couch, a dark brown coffee table and a TV in the living room and all the basic stuff in both the dining room and kitchen. There’s a record playing somewhere, and Steve can’t help the smile that comes to his face when he sees the way you’re mouthing the words as you move back and for the between the kitchen and living room bringing snacks, drinks and pizza for everyone. You’re wearing a cream-coloured sweater he recognizes from the party back in October and something funny happens in his stomach when he realizes just how far your friendship’s evolved since then.

“Babe come on take a break, we can help.” Steve stops you from going back to the kitchen with a hand on your shoulder and a fond look on his face.

You open your mouth to say something when Eddie and Robin appear on either side of you, presenting the movies they –surprisingly– were in charge to pick. “The best horror movies.” They say in unison.

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise as you take the three VHS tapes from them. “Oh. Um, great! Thank you.” Your reaction hides behind the grin you shoot both, who nod and disappear to the kitchen.

“You’re pouting.” Steve says stepping closer to you again in the living room; your eyes that were fixed on the VHS tapes drift upwards to meet his own. Steve smiles.

“I’m not pouting.” You tell him with a roll of your eyes, lips settling back into a pout as you scan the titles of the movies once more. “These are just scary.”

“You’re still pouting.” Steve whispers, like it’s a secret. His eyes drift down to your lips, a mistake that has him swallowing hard, before the doorbell rings, signalling Johnathan and Nancy arrived. He’s quick to turn and go let them in. It’s a perfectly timed distraction. He shouldn’t think about kissing you, because despite no matter how badly he wants to, you’d never let it happen, or feel the same way he does to let it happen. “Just saying!”

Once the first movie plays, Eddie and Robin settle on one end of the couch, while Nancy and Johnathan sit on the floor in front of them. Steve shoots Robin a I know what you’re doing look before sitting next to her and feeling the couch dip under your weigh when you settle on the empty seat next to him. A sweet floral scent he now recognizes as your shampoo or your perfume reaches him and Steve actively decides to focus on the movie, not the way he wants to pull you over his lap and breathe you in. Eddie and Robin laugh every now and then and the four of you turn to look at them, there’s nothing funny about the movie. You begin covering your face with the bucket of popcorn as the movie progresses, your face grimacing as the suspenseful music picks up.

Steve leans closer to you, his voice a whisper as he speaks. “It’s just special effects don’t worry about it.” You turn to look at him, worried puppy dog eyes gazing into him and dammit you make it so hard to keep his distance. “Trust me.” Steve winks, lightening the mood only to jump and scream when he turns to the movie once more and a jump scare comes on.

It seems like the perfect medicine for your fear. For you forget about it and lean your head back laughing, a full-on belly laugh, that’s so contagious and beautiful Steve laughs with you. Nancy and Robin share a knowing look he doesn’t notice before they shush the two of you, shoving at his elbow and your knee. You cover your mouth with your hand and your shoulders shake as you lean your head on Steve’s shoulder, turning your body towards his; Steve’s never been so happy to be scared in his life.

Everyone leaves after 3 movies. Robin gets a ride with Eddie, and Nancy leaves with Jonathan as well. Steve though, stays behind insisting on helping you clean up, but it’s a weak excuse to check on you before he leaves. He noticed you getting nervous, fidgeting with your hands anxiously when everyone started to leave. The films were long done, so Steve knows something else is worrying you and it doesn’t sit well in his heart to leave you like this. Which is why he is currently picking up trash in the living room while you do the same in the kitchen.

You’re finishing placing the dirty dishes in the sink when Steve enters the room. He noticed right away the way your shoulders hunch and you take a deep breath. “Steve…”

“You okay?” Steve closes the trash bag and moves to the sink. His eyes roam your face as he looks sideways at you and washes his hands.

“I um… I wanted to apologize to you.” You tell him quietly, passing him a kitchen towel before moving away from the sink. “For how closed-off I was when you met me.”

After drying his hands quickly, Steve turns and leans on the edge of the sink. “It’s okay, it’s not easy to trust new people right away.” He reassures you –it’s something he understands now; he understands you.

You sit on the counter opposite to him and stare at the floor for a bit, polka dot sock clad feet dangling in the air. “It’s more than that. I’m just scared of getting close to people since…”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Steve shakes his head, keeping his eyes on your face.

“I trust you, Steve.”

Those four words make Steve’s chest flutter –relief, happiness, nerves– but he pushes the feeling to the back of his mind and patiently waits for you to continue. Your lips are pursed as you stare at the floor, gathering your thoughts.

“My mom…” You swallow, getting chocked up with those to words but soldiering on. With a shake of your head, you look up to the ceiling and will your tears away. “My mom left my dad, brother and I last April. She’d been cheating on dad for years… and that’s not even the worst part.”

You wipe your eyes quickly, lips pulled downwards into a deep frown when you pause again –an upside-down U Steve wishes he could smooth out with his thumb. But he stays where he stands and lets you continue.

“The other man was married too” Your eyes find Steve’s and where there’s usually a spark –like that night at the party– there’s only sadness directed at the memory. “He’s the father of a popular kid at my old high school, so you can guess what happened when everyone found out.”

Steve’s mouths opens again and this time a soft no escapes him.

You press your lips together and nod, “So not only did the news wreck our home… they made life at school unbearable for my brother and I. People who I thought were my friends just threw me away as if I was trash for something I didn’t do. Something I had no fault in.”

“Is that why you moved here?” Steve asks softly, walking closer to you. The answer to the question he asked many months ago, right in front of him and it doesn’t make him feel any satisfaction. No, it hurts him to know this. Moving away from everything you’ve known and starting over again during senior year sounds brutal.

“Yes.” You whisper and close your eyes briefly; more tears fall down your cheeks and Steve’s heart aches. Teary eyes move away from his and fix themselves on the kitchen window instead, your lips are pressed so hard against each other they’re losing colour. “She packed her bags right after school the day we found out. We saw her leave with that man, no other explanation, not even a goodbye or a note. Everyone except my dad and my brother decided to leave me that day.”

A sob escapes you then, finally breaking free and shaking your whole body; another one replaces it once it stops. Your hands move from the counter to your face, covering it as cries continue to escape you in succession. Steve wastes no time and walks to stand in front of you; he hates seeing you in so much pain. God, it must have hurt so much, just being left behind like that. His hands move to your hips and gently urge you to hop off the counter before he wraps you up in his arms. His shoulders shake with the force of your sobs as you cling to him.

“Stevie.” Your hands are bunched up in the back of his polo, holding onto him like a lifeline.

Steve can’t even relish the sound of your calling him Stevie so softly. He swallows hard as he witnesses the pain, you have felt inside of you for so long. “I’m so sorry.” He whispers.

“She left us, Steve. She just disappeared and left us grieving her despite her being alive.” You say between your tears, they soak the right side of his shirt, but Steve couldn’t care less, his arms just tighten around your waist. “She’d been pushing us away for years, treating us like garbage and now I can see it’s because we weren’t good enough for her anymore. She didn’t love any of us anymore. We… we didn’t make her happy.”

Your voice sounds hoarse from crying, and your hands tighten behind Steve’s back. When you bury your face in his chest, Steve hunches his shoulders and forms a cocoon to protect you from the past. His protective nature takes over as he holds you flush against him; his hand moves up and down your back firmly –you need to know he’s there, that he’s got you. Steve puts his cheek over your head and whispers his next words. “I’ve got you; you can cry as much as you need to, I’m not going anywhere.”

It takes a few minutes, but your sobs soon transform into soft sniffles even as you press yourself closer to him. Steve doesn’t want to upset you anymore, but he’s itching to comfort you and let you know what he wishes someone had told him years ago. “I know my own shit experience with my parents isn’t the same as what you went through.” He starts, taking a small step back so he can look at you.

His fingers take a gentle hold of your face until puffy and teary eyes meet his; Steve wipes away some stray tears. “But what your mom did to you doesn’t say anything about you alright? You’re more than good enough for anyone. If she didn’t see that, then she made the worst mistake of her life.”

You close your eyes at his words and look away, but Steve shakes his head and urges you to face him again with a whisper of your name. “You don’t have to prove your worth to anyone because your mother left. All of us see it, and we’re so lucky to have you here.”

Steve’s thumb catches more tears as your lips begins to tremble again. “I’m so fucking lucky that you trust me, and I understand why you didn’t at first, okay? I understand you.”

Your hands on his waist tighten again as your forehead drops to his right shoulder. “I didn’t used to be like this… I’m sorry that this is the me that you met.”

Steve shakes his head, sure that you feel it when he does, and pulls you flush to his chest again. Is this how you’ve felt since last summer? He wonders. Like this version of yourself is wrong or unlikable.

Sure, you’re not a smiley person, but that makes your rare smiles even more special –and they drive Steve crazy. You see the glass half-empty most times to protect yourself if things do indeed go to shit, but you also recognize genuine goodness. You don’t hesitate to encourage or celebrate everyone else’s happiness; he’s seen it firsthand, with the kids, with Robin and even himself. Steve doesn’t think he could ever get tired of your dark humour or that pretty pout that settles on your lips when you get annoyed, not to mention that making you laugh is his favorite thing in the world. Steve understands your anxiety and panic at your college decision, you don’t want another change; you don’t want to choose something you don’t like and face another disappointment again. Most of all, Steve finally understands your hesitance and the root of your gruff exterior, and he wouldn’t change a thing about it. He’s stupid in love with you; your grumpy and soft looks; your frowns and your smiles; your heart; and that tender way you’re holding onto him right now.

Steve places a kiss to the side of your head to keep himself from saying all of this out loud –it’s not the right time, not yet. Instead, he whispers above your ear, “I wouldn’t change a single thing about you.”

For a moment, stillness surrounds the two of you in the kitchen and there’s no other sound but your quiet sniffles against Steve’s shirt again. Steve doesn’t mind, he’s happy to hold you for as long as you need, which ends up being five more minutes. You take a step back and look at him with those pretty eyes of yours; they’re teary and red-rimmed but lovely all the same.

“Thank you, Steve.” You whisper, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips until your gaze drops to his shirt and embarrassment shines in your eyes. “Sorry I cried all over you.”

“I don’t mind.” Steve shrugs and looks at you softly, hands still on your waist. “I think I know what we should do.”

You look at him curiously. “About what?”

“To cheer you up.”

The head shake you give him is immediate, just as he imagined. “I don’t–”

“You deserve a happy life.” Steve states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and sends a wink your way hoping to amuse you. “And I think, ice cream is a good way to start. I should know, I worked at an ice cream shop remember.”

He leaves your side and walks over to the freezer to grab the ice cream he saw earlier that night when he got up mid-movie to get more ice. It’s cookie dough ice cream, which he knows to be your favourite –he’s known since that first night he met you. Knowing he’s completely serious now, your eyes stare into his eyes for a moment before you turn and grab two spoons from a kitchen drawer.

“I guess we’re having ice cream then. Considering you’re an expert.” You say with an eye roll Steve can only describe as fond when you approach him again. A moment later, you sit on the counter and Steve follows suit, sitting next to you. “Spoon?”

“Thank you.” Steve says and takes it from you after opening the ice cream tub. He offers the tub to you first, letting you scoop some ice cream with your spoon which you pop in your mouth. Your arms brush from how close you’re sitting, and Steve has to lean forward to look at you, but he doesn’t mind. He’s happy with the proximity.

A sigh escapes you and you close your eyes as you savour the ice cream. Steve feels heat creep up the back of his neck at the sound, but he shakes the feeling off; you’re only eating ice cream, to make you feel better. “You were right Harrington, this is like medicine.”

“Told you, I’m an expert.” Steve chuckles and eats his own spoonful, the creamy ice cream melting in his tongue before he laughs as you search for the cookie dough in the tub. “This is going to be just plain vanilla ice cream if you keep doing that.”

“Finders keepers.” You tell him with a shrug as you bring the cookie dough to your mouth. “It’s arguably the best part of this ice cream.”

“You’re supposed to eat the ice cream with it!” Steve argues, holding the tub away from your reach. “I want cookie dough too you know.”

You roll your eyes at him, but there’s a soft look on your face as you look at him and nod. The two of you go back to eating ice cream in silence until Steve speaks up again. There are so many things he wants to know about you still –he thinks he’ll always want to know more. “What’s something you miss from living in Indianapolis?”

You pause mid-scoop and concentrate for a few moments going over his question. A moment later a tiny smile makes its way to your lips. “There used to be a wonderful campsite my dad used to take my brother and I; we’d camp for three days and do all sort of activities.”

Steve smiles. “Like what?”

“Dad and Chris love fishing, so we’d do that. There was also hiking, swimming, s’mores. Oh! We’d all tell each other stories sitting next to the fire. They were all completely made up of course, and I think the more ridiculous they were, the more fun we had.”

Your eyes wander around the kitchen, like you’re back in the forest with your family and not next to Steve anymore. Light dances in your eyes and Steve can almost picture the three of you laughing around the fire as the catch of the day roasts on a grill nearby. He knows better than to ask about your mother, he’s got a pretty good idea what the answer would be. Besides, you’ve cried enough already, so much that Steve’s own heart feels bruised from seeing you in pain.

“You haven’t camped here in Hawkins?” Steve asks after a minute, voice quiet to avoid disturbing your memory.

You shake your head and sigh, the mirage in front of you disappearing as your eyes drift back to Steve’s. “Dad’s not the same person he was during those camping trips… he hasn’t scouted a good place for us to go. I don’t think he even wants to go camping anymore.”

Steve puts the ice cream tub on the counter and takes your hand instead. “Maybe we could go camping someday, invite everyone, have fun…”

Your head moves to rest on his shoulder, the dizzying smell of your shampoo and perfume reaching Steve’s nose at the proximity. He leans his cheek on top of your head and feels the faint nod you give him. “Maybe.”

A comfortable silence settles between the two of you, your hand still in Steve’s grasp. Until he gives it a squeeze that makes you jump, as if you forgot you were holding hands in the first place. Steve chuckles. “What?”

Your head leaves his shoulder in an instant and for a second Steve is sure you’re going to hide behind your walls again, like you did so many months ago. His fear though, is replaced with concern when you hop off the counter and check the time with a frown.

“Babe come on, what’s going on?” He hops off the counter and stands in front of you. His eyes search yours until finally your gaze meets his, your embarrassment clear in them.

“I just hate being home alone at night. It makes me anxious.” Your hands fidget in front of you, as if you’re waiting for Steve to laugh at you. Oh, so that’s why you were nervous earlier. “I can’t sleep. At all.”

He looks down at his watch and sees that it’s midnight already. “I don’t mind staying over.” Bringing his eyes back to yours, he speaks up again. “Would that make you feel better?”

You close your eyes and let out a shaky exhale before you nod. “A lot better.” When your eyes open again, they’re full of gratefulness and surprise, as if Steve wouldn’t do anything for you.

A smile grows on Steve’s face, and he takes your hand before you can thank him, threading your fingers together as he speaks. “Come on, you’re probably tired.”

Steve, however, is everything but tired. His heart is racing at the thought of spending the night here with you. You’ve never spent so much time together in a day, he’s never seen your bedroom, and there’s something about this impromptu sleepover that makes heat creep up the back of his neck. No. He’s here to give you emotional support; you were so anxious earlier and there’s nothing he wants more than to see you happy and comfortable. If staying here, despite it sending his feelings into a frenzy, is the key for you to rest then so be it. He can stay for one night.

You don’t let go of his hand as you lead him upstairs, passing various pictures of you and your family that hang from the wall opposite the handrail. There are three bedrooms upstairs and yours is the last one down the hall, its view towards the backyard. You open the door a moment later and let go of his hand as you step inside. Now that he’s here, Steve remembers neither of you made sure the doors were locked downstairs. He should do that.

“I’m going to take a shower.” You tell him as you walk towards your dresser.

Steve nods and swallows hard, using the excuse of your safety to be downstairs while that happens. “We forgot to lock everything downstairs. I’ll go do that.”

“Oh, right.” You press your palm to your forehead; Steve can see you reprimand yourself. “Thank you, Steve.”

“No problem.” Steve is quick to shake his head as he takes a step back from the room. “I’ll be right back.”

Once Steve is back downstairs, he makes sure to check the windows and lock the front door. He fiddles with the light switches for a while before he finds the right ones and turns the lights off. The whole process takes him less than five minutes, and the shower is still running when he’s back in your room. With a deep breath he finally looks around, gazing through a metaphorical window into your world, which he surprisingly already knew a lot of. The pastel walls make him smile, and he walks along the furthermost wall where various posters have been hung –all bands and singers Robin and you have played in his car. There’s a small vanity by the closet next to the bathroom, full of tiny bottles and a couple of lip-gloss tubes. Steve also spots a purple bottle of perfume on top, and a grin makes its way to his face –that’s the one that drives him crazy, he’s sure of it. He’s about to move closer and look at the pictures you’ve pasted in the vanity’s mirror, but he’s startled to a stop when you speak.

“I left a shirt for you to sleep in, if you want it.” You say and Steve turns around.

His heart summersaults when he sees you, fresh dewy face, hair out of your face, an oversized grey t-shirt with a pink Queen logo on the front and pink cotton sleeping pants. The overhead light of the bathroom makes a small rectangle in the carpeted floor, and some steam from your shower still circles around behind you. It takes all Steve’s self-control to stay where he is and not walk up to you and pull you into his arms; no tears between you this time, just Steve holding you the way he wishes he could all the time. He looks at the t-shirt you left on your bed to distract himself and laughs when he notices the colour.

“How’d you guess I love pink?” Steve asks you, glancing your way as he walks towards the bed and holds up the t-shirt. It’s very oversized like yours, and it has a black and fuchsia print of Blondie’s lead singer on it.

“Dunno, just thought it would suit you.” you chuckle, and Steve sees you hold back a smile as you point towards the bathroom. “There’s a spare toothbrush on the sink.”

Steve nods and hurries to the bathroom, lest you notice him blushing. He finds the toothbrush instantly and proceeds to brush his teeth, and though he doesn’t know why, Steve feels extremely happy to know both of you use the same toothpaste. He glances around and looks at all the details that are entirely yours around the room. There are some facial creams on a shelf next to the mirror, a vanilla scented hand soap on the sink, and a look towards the shower shows him two purple and pink shampoo and conditioner bottles –the ones that make your hair smell like flowers. Steve rinses his mouth, then takes off his sweater and jeans before he puts on the pink t-shirt you gave him and, like a freak, smells it to find that somehow your scent still lingers in the soft cotton.

If he was panicking before, he’s panicking even more now. He’s obsessed with you, he realizes, stupidly head over the heels and all of this is making it worse; lying on a bed next to you will make it so much worse. He’s got to pull himself together. He’s doing this because of fear of being home alone, that’s all. He can sleep alongside you for a night without making a fool of himself –or worse, accidentally confess his feelings. So, pushing all bed related thoughts to the back of his mind, he walks out of the bathroom to find you already under your duvet in bed.

Not letting himself think too much about it, Steve turns off the lamp on your nightstand and slips under the duvet too. He keeps his body still, tense more accurately, as he lies next to you. That is until you turn to face him, and he immediately does too, like a magnet naturally attracted to you.

“Do you ever fear that you’ll wake up one day and everyone you know will be gone?” you whisper in the dark; your voice is almost silent, but Steve hears you loud and clear with how close he is to you. The minty smell of your toothpaste mingles with his own breath. Is this how things are going to be between you now, deep conversations and secrets you only trust to each other? He really hopes so.

Steve shakes his head, trying to make out your face in the dark as his heart constricts in his chest. “No,” he says just as quietly, “But sometimes I’m afraid that something terrible will happen and I won’t be able to help.”

Steve closes his eyes and exhales through his nose as he voices one of his fears for the first time. He’s sure that everything that happened in the Upside Down that they managed to fix was thanks to the brains in his friend group. Steve is all physical strength, which has proved useful in the past, but against monsters or whatever the hell could come next, he’s not sure it will be enough. The thought of being useless like that and everyone suffering because of it terrifies him. Even more now that you’re a part of said friend group. He’s sure of one thing though, he’d protect you and all his friends no matter what.

Your hand slowly moves to his shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “Knowing you, Steve, I’m a thousand percent sure you’d find a way to help. Your stubbornness can be a good thing.”

A breathy chuckle leaves him as your words punch the air out of him. He’s silent for a moment, scrambling for something reassuring to say back. Words aren’t his forte, not unless he’s flirting. He’d rather pull you close to him and comfort you that way, the way he did in the kitchen. “You know… if we were to disappear for whatever reason, you can bet I’d fight my way to you. You won’t be alone.”

Steve sees you nod your head in the dark, his only sign that you haven’t fallen asleep yet. Your hand goes back to your side, in front of his before you stifle a yawn. Assuming your eyes are tired from all their crying, Steve moves his hand to cup your cheek gently.

“Go to sleep, you need to rest.” He whispers; he wants to give you more comfort, pull you close and rub your back until you fall asleep. He doesn’t because he can’t, that would make things weird.

“Thank you for staying with me.” You whisper back.

Remaining silent to avoid saying something that’d give away just how deep his feelings for you run, or the fact that the opportunity to be lying here next to you is something he should be thankful for, he only rubs his thumb softly on your cheek once more before letting go. With another yawn you turn around, your back facing Steve as you whisper goodnight.

Steve doesn’t know when he falls asleep, but he knows he sleeps more peacefully than he has in a while. Not that he doesn’t sleep well often, but most days his dreamless sleep is a result of the exhaustion of the day and not peacefulness. Last night though, there were no nightmares, no tossing and turning, just a distant dream of a campfire in the woods, fireflies, and a silhouette standing peacefully by the water. At some point, early in the morning, he finds himself waking to the light sneaking into the room from a small gap in the tulle curtains. His eyes that were too sleepy to open, blink awake at the awareness that you’re in his arms. Lovely floral scent and cozy softness pressed to him.

It seems that during the night, you’d shifted to your side and burrowed yourself on his chest, an arm around his waist and leg thrown over his hip. His left arm is around you, settled between your shoulder blades, holding you to him. He lifts it and checks his watch, barely 6am but Steve knows he should go. The last thing he wants is your father getting back home and finding him in your bed. Steve doesn’t know him and that’s not the first impression he’s looking for. Besides, there’s a pressing problem in his briefs, that has appeared from being tangled up with you, that he needs to hide in his jeans before you notice. Shifting his hips way from you he looks down at your sleeping face, brushing hair away from your face before he whispers your name.

“Hmm,” You frown, eyes still closed. “What?”

“You’re a cuddler,” Steve says as he smiles; it’s something that should surprise him, but it doesn’t. Not at all.

“I’m not.” You mumble and, contradicting yourself, press closer to him.

“Yes, you are.” He chuckles, shifting his hips backwards again. “I have to go.”

You frown but move away from him, turning and facing away. “Why?”

Steve slips from bed and puts his jeans back on, adjust himself, before pulling his sweater over his head and on top of the pink t-shirt. Call him a lovestruck fool, but he’s not giving it back. “I don’t know when your dad’s gonna be back, I don’t want him to find a boy he doesn’t know in your bed.”

You chuckle, then yawn as you shift and sit up in bed. Steve stares at you longer than he should. His eyes take in your messy hair and your still puffy eyes from all your crying the night before. He smiles widely.

“I have drool on my face, don’t I?” You sigh, moving the back of your hand to the corner of your mouth.

Steve laughs and shakes his head. “No, you don’t; you look pretty that’s all.”

His words reward him with an eyeroll and a headshake before you stand up. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

You remain silent as the two of you walk side by side all the way down to the front door. Steve takes his car keys, and you move to open the door, but pause after a moment. Steve’s eyes look into yours as he wonders if there’s something wrong but when your eyes shift up to him, a small smile settles on your lips. Next thing Steve knows, your arms go around him in a hug.

He can’t help but sigh at the feeling and leaning his cheek on top of your head. “You okay?”

You nod and look up at him. “Thank you, Steve.” You say, stepping on the tip of your toes and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Don’t thank me.” Steve smiles, letting his arms fall to his sides as his heart skips several beats. “Wanna get a coffee later?”

Is he bribing you with caffeine just to see you again? Of course, he is. Steve is charming, and he has a lot of work to do if he wants to make a move soon.

“Only if I get to pay.” You raise an eyebrow but smile nonetheless, that rare big smile he loves.

Steve huffs and opens the door. “Sure, babe.” He says though he knows you don’t believe him.

He walks to his car when you nod –heart pounding– and smiles as he drives away. Your figure on the rear-view mirror watches him leave until he turns at the end of the driveway. Steve leans his elbow on the door, his hand settling over his mouth as he thinks about the events of last night and this morning. Hope fills his chest, and Steve feels like this is the beginning of something really good for both of you.

---

There’s a small shift in your dynamic after that late night conversation in your kitchen. It’s like almost as if it brought you both closer: like a barrier breaking between you and Steve. Steve knows he should take it slow, that he should better conceal his feelings to avoid scaring you off. But another part of Steve wants to throw caution to the wind because there’s been a change in you too. I trust you, Steve, you’d said, and it shows. In the way you sit closer to him, how you give away more pieces of your past and yourself when you talk. There’s less apprehension and more curiosity from both of you and Steve can’t help but fall and fall and fall. He only hopes it doesn’t end up with him crashing down painfully.

The two of you make a new habit of visiting a small the café on the weekends; you sitting sideways on the couch and Steve talking nonsense to make you laugh. It starts the day after the sleepover, and the two of you use it as time to catch up on the events of the week. It delights him; every Saturday, he wants nothing more than to lean close and kiss your smile, the one he never thought he’d be at the receiving end of. You have bad days too, days in which Steve knows you’ve been crying, days where all you want to do is sit in silence with him. Steve doesn’t mind, at all, in fact he loves all your mood equally and now that he knows the backstory of what you went through, he offers you the quiet reassurance of his presence next to you, so you know you’re not alone.

Weeks pass like this, until winter leaves and spring comes. Overnight, the breeze has no bite to it anymore, the flowers bloom again and you begin to wear the prettiest floral dresses that give Steve a whole new reason to be obsessed with you.

“You two are adorable; when are you going to tell her, dingus?”

Steve and Robin had stopped by the Deli to get something to eat during their lunch break while you were on your lunch break too. The three of you had spent the 30 minutes talking between bites of your own sandwiches until the moment Steve had to drive away and you had to go back to your shift. He hears Robins words but his eyes follow your retreating figure until you’re out of sight –his mind is begging him to find you and steal a kiss just so he doesn’t go crazy. Robin snaps her fingers in front of his face and laughs when Steve startles. He rolls his eyes and gets in the car while Robin asks him the same question again.

Steve rolls his eyes again, “Tell her what?”

“That you’re obsessed with her dummy!” Robin hits his arm, Steve sends her an annoyed look, “You love her come on, you have to tell her.”

“No, I can’t.” He’s been thinking about it more often now. Keeping it to himself has been almost impossible lately and he knows he should do it before he breaks.

“Yes, you can, and you have to.” Robin asserts, setting her converse on the dashboard. “She clearly feels the same way.”

“She doesn’t.” Steve’s answer is instant as he focuses on the road and getting back to FV, his fingers gripping the steering wheel so hard they turn white. It’s a half-lie, and they both know it.

“She does and you know it.” Out of the corner of his eye he sees Robin shake her head. “The way she looks at you Steve… it’s unbearable to watch, coming from her.”

Steve knows it, he’s seen that change. He’s felt the pitter patter of his heart, the way his hands shake when you look at him like that, like he’s all you want. But Steve is a coward in denial, he doesn’t want to assume wrong and send you running away from him. But if Robin’s seen it… “You really think so?” He says as he parks his car and Robin nods enthusiastically.

“Duh!”

He nods to himself, “Okay... I can tell her tonight. We are hanging out at my place anyway.”

“I’ll make myself scarce, just say the word and I’ll disappear.” When Steve nods Robin cheers, opening the passenger door and stepping outside. “Don’t mess it up, Steve.”

“I’ll try.” Steve grips the steering wheel, trying to calm himself down.

Steve doesn’t get a chance to though, for that afternoon with greying clouds in the sky you show up at Family Video as soon as your shift at the Deli ends. Steve is about to go to the back and finish some inventory he has procrastinated all week when he sees you pacing in front of his car, arms crossed over your chest. His heart soars, then fills with dread –somethings wrong. He knows it right away which is why he rounds the counter and rushes outside in a heartbeat.

“Babe, what’re you doing here?” Steve says as soon as he opens the door. “It’s gonna rain come on, let’s go inside.”

But you shake your head and look at him with a look he can’t name. It’s a sad look, and it makes Steve panic; he panics even more when he sees your eyes are teary and red-rimmed. “Did something happen? At work or at home?”

“I love you.” You say, at the same time thunder cracks in the distance. Your trembling lips press together when Steve’s move to smile, and your headshake makes Steve pause. “But I don’t think we should see each other again.”

“What?” Steve’s question is a whisper, almost lost to another booming thunder. “Why would you say that? Did I do something?”

“No, Steve.” You sigh, voice shaky, looking everywhere but his eyes. Steve knows this tell though; you don’t want to be caught in a lie. “We just don’t fit–”

“No.” He says simply, shaking his head as he interrupts you. This is that night in the Wheeler’s driveway all over again, you trying to shut everyone out. His hands still shake slightly though, at your confession, your words afterwards, at the idea of losing you.

“Steve it won’t work.” You tell him, it cracks halfway with feeling, and you swallow hard before repeating yourself. “It would never work.”

“Yes it will, it’s us.” Steve tells you, shaking his head. He remembers how far you’ve come, how close the two of you have gotten. He should’ve have known it would scare you, after what happened with your family. “Of course it will! It has worked for months.”

“It won’t! It won’t work regardless of our feelings. Because I’m me! And you’re you –you’ll get sick of me and then leave. And it’ll hurt more than anything I’ve ever experienced.” You tell him, shaking your head and looking at him with reddening eyes. Both your arms are crossed over your chest, as if you’re physically protecting your heart from feeling what if feels for him. I love you, you said. Around you, the sky begins to open, bathing both of you with big droplets of water. “I told you before, you scare me because I’ve never felt this way before.”

Steve tries to take a step closer, but you take a step back; it makes him groan in frustration. “You can’t make that decision for me! How can you think I’d just leave you?”

“Because the person who I thought never would, LEFT.” You yell, eyes brimming with tears that roll down your cheeks. They mix with the raindrops that fall on both of you and Steve’s heart aches.

“Then she didn’t love you enough, not the way you deserve.” Steve places his hands on his hips, looking at the wet concrete underneath his shoes. His eyebrows meet in the middle as he swallows hard. He can’t put into words how angry it makes him that someone hurt you so much, that you’re scared of being happy again. “I thought you trusted me.”

“I do.” You tell him, hands falling to your sides. Your voice is so quiet that the rain falling around you almost drowns it out. “You know I do.”

“Then let me love you!” You’re stunned into silence by Steve’s words, confessed loudly in an outburst as he brings his hands to his hair. He meets your eyes and feels his own tear up; he really doesn’t want to lose you. “Let me prove to you that I love you like crazy, baby. Because I do, you have no idea how much.”

Your eyes squeeze shut and Steve knows you can see all of his feelings reflected on his face. “I don’t want to be heartbroken again Steve! Can’t you see you’re sunshine, and I–”

“Don’t say that.” He whispers and steps closer to you, holding both of your hands. The way you cling to them sparks a fire in his heart, keeps his hope alive. “I told you I wouldn’t change a thing about you, that I’d fight my way to you.”

You try to let go of him, but Steve only pulls you closer even as you look away from him, lip trembling. “You know my issues, especially after what happened last year.”

“I do know them, and I’m telling you now that I don’t plan on ever letting you go. This isn’t just a fling, and you know it.” His hands go to your face, holding it gently and looking into your eyes. Those beautiful eyes he’s seen tear up, the ones that crinkle in the corners when you laugh and turn steely when you’re mad. He wants to look at them forever.

You close them, bracing yourself, as the sky continues to fall all around you. Big drops of water hitting your skin and soaking your clothes every second that passes. “Even if I have bad days, or get exasperated with you, or I’m a grump?”

Steve smiles and shakes his head. If only you knew. “I love it when you’re a grump, I want to kiss your pout so badly every time.”

“I don’t pout,” You roll your eyes, but Steve can see you’re trying to hide your fear. He’s learned every little detail about you to memory, this is you trying to build a wall. Well then, Steve knows how to break them down.

“I promise,” Steve says, like he did that November night you fought outside in the cold. His nose brushes against yours as tenderly as he can, rainwater sliding down between your faces –his breath catches on his throat. “I love everything about you, everything baby, trust me. It’s you and me, that won’t change.”

You nod, trust shining in your eyes as a teary smile makes its way to your face when you let it free. It knocks the air out of Steve’s lungs. “Stevie, I love you.”

He leans his forehead against yours, happy beyond words and because he’s not good with them he says, “I really want to kiss you.”

“Then kiss me,” You urge him.

Steve leans down, holding your face in his hands and lingering close as he braces himself for this; this moment he’s wished for so many times. He smiles, and thinks finally, before leaning in and kissing you. A noise dies in the back of his throat, his chest feels full of helium and his mind reels at the everything he’s feeling. It’s even better than he dreamed it would be. Your lips soft against his, your hands in his hair, the sigh that escapes you when one of his arms wraps around your waist and presses you flush against him. His skin is buzzing, his fingertips are tingling. So he kisses you until you’re both dizzy, brushing his tongue against yours, matching your intensity head-on. Everything is intoxicating, the sweet scent of your perfume, the softness under his hands, the way your face feels like it’s on fire as his hand remains cupping your cheek. Steve is so in love he could faint, so he breathes you in as he kisses your cheek, your jaw, your neck and just below your ear until the two of you pull back. Soaked in rain, without a care in the world.

“Does this mean you’re my boyfriend?” You ask him softly, stepping impossibly closer to him.

Steve smiles proudly, heart soaring. “Yes it does, I’m yours.”

“I want to kiss you again.” You confess after a minute, blinking away that raindrops that have gathered in your eyelashes and smiling at him. “But I’m cold.”

Steve laughs when you frown and pulls you closer to him. “Yeah, we should probably get out of the rain.”

----

thank you for reading! reblogs are really appreciated and so is any feedback 💖

(I also wrote this tiny insight to grumpy reader’s feelings here )

#steve harrington fic #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington x you #steve x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst

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snakes-writing-corner · 5 months

Text

Mr. Puzzles Fluff Alphabet

Requested by… Me!

Coming out of hibernation ‘cause there is not enough Mr. Puzzles x Reader content out there so I am contributing to the pile because the hyperfixation I have on this man has me in a fucking death-grip.

It is 2 in the morning when I’m posting this so yippie brain-rot!!!

Anyways alphabet under the cut :D

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Very. I mean you are kind of the only person who’s ever bothered to get close to him!

He was extremely clingy when the two of you were just friends, but now that you’re his partner? That’s increased tenfold.

He’s very unpredictable so he’s pretty much a wildcard when it comes to ways he’ll show affection.

Sometimes he’ll gently pull you along by grabbing your wrist, sometimes he’ll nuzzle into your hair or neck, maybe he’ll cup your face like you’re a glass sculpture that might shatter, and sometimes he’ll just pick you up and twirl you around. Honestly? This lovable director will show you any kind of physical affection under the sun.

I do think he particularly would like to hold your hand though. He likes the warmth of your hand in his, and how it’s so small compared to his. It’s like your hand was just made for him to hold!

Overall, any physical affection is fine by him as long as he gets to touch or hold you!

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend?)

I fear having this man as a best friend because that means chaos.

Yes being in a romantic relationship with him would be chaos, but a friendship I feel would be more chaotic somehow???

Will break your door down to get an opinion on a new show he’s been working on, and will absolutely pester you until you comply.

Would probably get you to star in said show and then poke fun at you the entire time. Lovingly of course mind you!

Lots of talk sessions where the two of you just talk shit about other people because this man lives for drama, like wants the tea on everyone.

Would break into your house at 2 in the morning to steal food like a fucking rat (I say this in a loving way).

Anyways being besties with him means say goodbye to your doors because he’s kicking them all down to get your attention.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Cuddling is definitely a must!!! Like he would love to cuddle!!!

This man has no preference to cuddling he just wants to hold you close to him! Definitely big spoon no questions asked, but he also loves having you lay on his chest.

I think his favorite way to cuddle though would be on his side with you snuggled into his chest. You would probably look very small compared to him like his body would basically envelop yours, but hey he’d be very warm at least! Mr. Puzzles would probably just lazily comb through your hair with the goofiest smile on his face, whispering little words of affirmation under his breath as he did so.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they around the house?)

Oh definitely! But, after he becomes all rich and famous! He wants the best life for you after all!

Definitely a housewife though when he’s not busy working on his shows, like this man is a workaholic. I genuinely think he enjoys cleaning and repetitive tasks in general, helps him think.

When working on his shows or stressed? Yeah no the living space can easily become a train-wreck as he gets increasingly more frustrated over whatever he’s working on.

You could probably leave the studio on any given day, and either come back to it spotless or a wreck. There’s like a 50/50 shot whenever you leave.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Nuh-uh, not happening, you are literally stuck with him now, and he is NEVER LETTING YOU GO. :)

Yeah that’s definitely not concerning! Good luck my guy because Mr. Puzzles has some attachment issues, and will not leave you no matter what you do!

But hey! You probably won’t get to leave him either! At least he won’t let you without a fight! (Get this man some therapy or something)

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Very big on commitment honestly part of him wants all of your attention to himself, but he loves you enough to not go that far.

I think he’d be kinda iffy on marriage. On one hand he could throw this big event for the two of you, letting everyone know you’re his.

On the other, he’s fine not getting married at all! As far as he’s concerned as long as you’re completely committed to him romantically there’s not really a reason to get married?

Honestly whether he gets married to you or not would depend on your preference.

Would probably still get you an engagement ring of some kind no matter what your answer is, just so others’ know you’re committed to someone.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Oh my god this man? Gentle as a feather physically. Emotionally? He tries to be as gentle as he can, but that temper gets the better of him sometimes.

He holds you like you are glass about to shatter, like he’s holding the most precious thing in the world.

Cups your face in his gloved hand and just admires you like the most beautiful art piece ever created. Might even lightly bump his screen against your head wondering how he got so lucky.

Most of the time he’s a bit aloof regarding your emotions he likes to tease you after all!

But in serious moments his tone will get noticeably softer as he listens, and tries to help you with whatever you are dealing with in anyway he can.

Now granted, Puzzles gets frustrated easily, and might lash out at you occasionally or straight up manipulate you, but he tries to make up for it.

Just be patient with him.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? What are their hugs like?)

Yes.

Hugs are a constant thing with this man he loves to hug and hold you. Though he will probably pick you up to hold you.

Most of the time he’ll come up from behind, pick you up, spin you around a bit, saying something like “There’s my little angel!”, and then hug you!

Definitely puts his screen to your head and makes a loud “mwah!” sound.

He’s a dork when it comes to hugging he wants to make you smile, that and he just likes having you close to him.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

After you get together?

All. The. Time.

Not in a bad way of course he wants you to know he absolutely adores you! Words of affirmation are part of his love language after all!

Says stuff like “I love you my precious starlight.” or “Gosh you’re just so cute! I truly do love you when you give me that look my dear!”

He is serious every time he says it though, but will not hesitate to fluster you with that phrase.

Can imagine him saying “I love you.” in a low husky voice to make you weak in the knees.

He likes to see you get all red in the face and become a stuttering mess. He’s a tease like that. :)

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Puzzles has attachment issues this man gets extremely jealous very quickly.

If he thinks anyone is getting even a little touchy with you? He’s walking over, putting his arms around you, and talking to the offender with fake enthusiasm and venom in his voice.

The person doesn’t get the hint? Lightly veiled threats start coming out.

Would resort to violence as a last resort.

If it’s a more light version of jealousy he’ll probably dramatically pout in the corner with his arms crossed until you come over and give him attention.

He’s very dramatic with jealously like a dog not getting attention when it wants it.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Uhhhh I mean he has a TV for a head he can’t exactly kiss you per se.

But Puzzles tries to make it work! Most commonly he’ll gently tap his screen to your head or hands with a little electric shock to give the illusion of an actual kiss.

Is not much for you kissing his screen though since he’ll have to clean it afterwards…

But you want to get this man to melt into you? He loves being kissed on the neck, or on the bottom of his TV, might as well send sparks through his entire body. Would definitely love neck bites as well.

Honestly would not care where you kiss him he’s just happy getting your affection.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

I think he’d be pretty good around children at least outwardly.

Probably would be trying to entertain them with cartoons or little puppet shows.

Do not think he’d actively put himself in a situation to be around children though. I don’t think he likes them very much.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Puzzles would get up without waking you, get dressed, get some coffee, and then would make the two of you breakfast.

You typically tend to wake up before he’s finished, but if you aren’t then he’ll gladly give you breakfast in bed!

Would make fun of you for being a sleepyhead though.

Mornings with Puzzles would start off quiet, but get progressively louder as you both wake up a bit.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

I feel like nights go one of two ways.

Either A. Chaotic as hell or B. Actually nice

A chaotic as hell night includes Mr. Puzzles having some sort of mental break which results in him overworking himself and refusing to go to sleep and/or him frantically at a board with a bunch of papers on it trying to come up with ideas.

While this rarely happens it can if his shows aren’t doing as well as he would like or if you’re gone for long periods of time. The best thing to do here is gently talk to him and get him away from his area of work to help him calm down. A nice cup of hot tea or hot cocoa would help as well!

A nice night is more common though since Puzzles does think sleep is important. Probably ends with the two of you winding down by either cuddling in bed or watching TV (an actual TV though not his head he likes being able to hold you) while you two have blankets and/or hot tea to sip on.

Alternatively you two will cuddle in bed and just talk about whatever comes to mind until you two fall asleep.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He’s pretty open about his past but not so much about what he doesn’t want you to see.

He shares stories from when he was a kid a lot, mainly about his mom, (I get a huge mama’s boy vibe from him) or his struggles making friends and connections until you showed up.

Also talks about his frustrations about getting into directing shows and how no corporate big shot would give him a chance so that’s how he made his own company! Also loves talking about ideas for new shows or really anything that comes to mind this man has no filter and just says what pops in his head.

He does not talk about things he doesn’t want you to know. Mainly that he smokes but he’s also definitely done some fucked up stuff in the past to get where he is today so he keeps that under wraps.

Wouldn’t want his darling angel to worry about those little hiccups~

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

We are literally talking about the person who sang about how ‘patience is a virtue uttered by fools’ this man has close to none.

He gets very frustrated and angry when things don’t go how he planned them to. He also can get frustrated if you don’t tell him things.

While he never tries to direct his anger at you he tends to lash out when frustrated and says things he doesn’t mean. However, he would probably apologize in the end if he really hurt you with his words.

Would never think of getting physically violent with you though he would much rather cut off his own head again than do that.

It would be very odd hot to see the man who holds you so gently be able to so easily make a sizable dent in a metal object.

Definitely has punched many holes in the walls and covered it up with something.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

My guy.

My buddy.

This man will remember every little thing you have told him about anything you like. He has a little notebook dedicated to writing little details about you so he doesn’t forget.

Knows just about everything you’ve either off-handedly mentioned about yourself or straight up told him.

Has various things written down like your favorite color, food, drink, cartoon, etc. Like literally anything you can think of that you could say about yourself he probably has written down.

Also has a page just describing how much he loves your looks down to the littlest detail but that’s not as important.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

When you two officially became partners.

He was so anxious to ask on the inside but kept the outwardly performance up as he was desperately trying to figure out how to go about it.

He broke one night and frantically made a board full of ideas for what he could do, but none of them were good enough! You deserved so much more than-than this!

You just so happened to walk into this scenario but Mr. Puzzles didn’t notice you as he was too focused on his board. You heard him muttering to himself about how “this had to be perfect” and “no, no that wouldn’t-”.

You eventually got concerned and walked up to him, accidentally scaring the living daylights out of him by the way, and as he tried to stutter something out you realized just what the board was about.

You then looked at him as he was still trying to come up with an excuse and just looked at him with wide eyes as you just blurted “And here I was scrambling to figure out a way to ask you out myself.”.

Puzzles just stared at you wide eyes and shouted “Wait really!?”

Anyways that night ended with you two just watching a movie on the couch and you’ve been together ever since.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you?)

Oh very protective.

Like you get scary tall guard dog partner privileges.

Most of the time if you’re with Puzzles no one would really dare to try anything because of how tall your TV man is, but on the off chance some asshole wants to try his luck?

Well Puzzles most definitely has a kill count.

In actuality he’d probably make threats towards the person, never getting outwardly aggressive as he doesn’t like to be the one fighting, but if the aggressor tries to touch you?

All bets are fucking off.

Despite what his personality may suggest to you if it comes down to it this man can pack a punch if need be. He is deceptively strong for how he looks and could easily beat a man to death if he wanted to.

While the fight would not end with the aggressor’s death as Puzzles does not want to kill someone in front of you, there is a good chance that person might end up mysteriously dead with no evidence tracing the murder back to him later down the line.

This man is slightly unhinged when it comes to keeping you safe.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

This is Mr. Puzzles we’re talking about he’s going all out!

Would definitely have a fancy dinner or something equally extravagant. I can see him liking to slow dance with you in a ballroom if given the chance.

If you prefer more casual dates then hey he’s up for that too! He’s paying though no ifs, ands, or buts about it! He loves movie dates and stargazing as date ideas.

Anniversaries are an all out occasion he’s standing his ground on that one because it’s special date and he wants the entire day to be special to the both of you.

Tries to get you gifts he knows you’ll like instead of fancy things though.

Okay maybe one or two pretty rings and such but mainly things you’d actually enjoy or give that big smile at receiving. I think gift giving is one of his love languages after all so expect to have lots of little trinkets.

He tries his best to make you smile everyday so he tries a lot for you.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He has some… unfavorable aspects of himself he doesn’t want you knowing the true extent of.

He does not want you to know he smokes as he thinks it’s an undesirable habit and always deflects any questions about why he might smell like smoke or any cigarettes you might find.

His temper also gets the best of him at times leading to him lashing out and making dumb decisions that he tends to regret if he thinks about it too much. Though he has wrangled it in around you it can be explosive and violent when you aren’t around to witness the full extent of it.

He is also very obsessive with you and he knows it. It’s definitely toxic obsession as well because at his worst moments mentally he has debated keeping you to himself and not letting you leave. He’s also considered sabotaging all of your relationships so you only rely on him and no one else.

A dark part of him wants to keep you all to himself so no one can take you away from him ever.

Thankfully, he respects and loves you too much to act on those thoughts but god rest the poor soul that does anything bad to you because odds are…

Their life is on a very short timer.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Oh my god yes.

Yes he so is.

He wants to look his best around you 24/7 all day every day and somehow does not even have to try for it.

He needs to always look presentable because a good director should always look ready all the time!

Is dramatic as fuck if his shirt gets wrinkled or something like damsel with their hand on their head going “my poor husband” dramatic.

He’s very silly like that and you love him for it.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yes.

You are the only person who ever really tried to get to know him, who puts up with his silly shenanigans, and who he fell in love with.

Truthfully without you? He’d completely lose it mentally because you are his rock. The one person he knows can pull him back from the darkest corners of his mind.

Not that you’d ever know this but Mr. Puzzles does. He knows that now that he has you he would not be able to live without you and continue to pretend to be even remotely sane.

X = Xtra (Random HC)

Plays his dreams or soft static on his screen when he’s in a deep sleep.

Claps his hands when excited and fidgets with his suspenders a lot.

Also makes tons of motions with his hands while he talks.

Y = You (How would they talk about you?)

This goes one of two ways.

Either he’s all giddy and cheerful like a schoolgirl with a massive crush or sounds very concerning as he talks about you like a follower would a god.

Pick your poison because both are accurate it just depends on how he’s feeling that day.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Will. Not. Let. Go.

Like if you wake up before him you are not getting up because he has the grip of a koala and probably has his arms and legs wrapped all around you.

But sometimes if you wake up before him he ends up in the funniest positions like sprawled out in ways that should break his bones. It can be very funny and disturbing at the same time.

#my writing #mr. puzzles #smg4 #smg4 mr puzzles #mr puzzles #mr puzzles x reader #mr puzzles hcs #mr puzzles smg4 #please help #the brainrot #its killing me #anyways have fun you mr puzzles simps #it’s me #i’m mr puzzles simps :(

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hmslusitania · 2 months

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15 for timkon if you'd like! (“This is a lot, even for you.”)

“Oh boy,” Kon says, hesitating in the entryway to the microcave Tim’s claimed. When Steph and Cass had called him about it, he’d thought they were exaggerating. In Kon’s defence, Tim’s been on more than a few somewhat unhinged murderboard investigations in his life, and the girls’ claim that this is actually, truly, the most unsettling one he’s done, that he’s locked himself in a microcave and they’re not sure he’s been eating — and are absolutely sure he hasn’t been sleeping — had felt melodramatic in the way only Gothamites can get.

In reality, he thinks they might’ve undersold it.

“Uh, hey, buddy, whatcha doin’?” Kon asks, hovering over the piles of office document boxes that — jesus fuck, is that a LexCorp logo?

He finds Tim in the centre of the microcave next to the aforementioned murderboard, and then he kinda wishes he hadn’t. The focal image in the centre of Tim’s web of red yarn and blue yarn and green yarn and something that looks like yellow caution tape that’s been twisted into thread is… Kon.

Tim is hunched in gargoyle posture next to the murderboard, chewing on the wrong end of a pen while he stares at the board with eyes so far past unfocused and surrounded by such dark bags that Kon’s kinda a little surprised Tim hasn’t like… toppled over and passed out.

At the sound of Kon’s voice, Tim spins on the balls of his feet and hurls the pen from between his teeth at him. Kon rebuffs it with his TTK and when the pen clatters to some scattered manila folders on the cave floor, Tim frowns.

“You’re… real?” Tim asks, lifting an eyebrow to inspect him. When he talks, Kon can see the dark spot of ink on his tongue that really can’t be pleasant to taste.

“Please tell me you haven’t been hallucinating,” Kon requests, and immediately regrets it because he’s really not sure he wants the answer to that.

“Um, n—just like the squiggles in the corners of your eyes when you’re sleep dep—why are you here?” Tim asks.

“Well, this is, uh, kind of a lot, even for you?” Kon replies, and hovers closer to the one working electronic in the microcave besides the flickering overhead light: the coffee pot. There’s nothing but tarry sludge at the bottom of the pot which is definitely contributing to the acrid scent of the cave, alongside Tim’s general state of being.

“Oh,” Tim says, looking back at the murderboard and then to Kon again. He seems to finally register that the subject of his investigation is now in his personal space, because his eyes go wide in addition to glassy. “Oh.”

“Any chance you’ll tell me why I’m the subject of this, uh…” Kon trails off, gesturing at the murderboard. Tim doesn’t write his tacked-on notes in any sort of way Kon can read. It’s not actually shorthand, not the official version of it, but probably some hybrid system Tim’s developed on his own. Whether or not it’s legible to other Bats is anyone’s guess.

“Um,” Tim says, and falls off the balls of his feet to land hard on his ass on the desk where he’s been perched. Based on the way he rubs absently at his knees and rolls his ankles around, Kon gets the impression he’d been crouched like that for way too long. “You’ve been, uh, exhibiting some… uncharacteristic behaviours? For about ten months now, give or take.”

Kon blinks. “I have?”

“Yeah, your sense of humour’s shifted, because you keep finding me funnier than other people in our group,” Tim says. He reaches for the pen he’d had in his mouth, like he means to use it as a pointer stick, and remembers at the last second that he’d thrown it at Kon to test his realness. Kon picks it up and offers it to him. Tim thanks him with a distracted, dazed expression, and then points it at the red lines. “And, um, you’ve been agreeing with me more? So, like, I know you haven’t been replaced by Match this time, because that was all about him trying to argue with me and divide our team. Also, you keep looking at me more when you think I’m not looking, I had to run through so many hours of security tapes.”

Tim points to some pretty damning screen grabs of security footage from the Young Justice HQ that kind of make Kon want to die of embarrassment.

It kind of sucks that Tim is so smart that he’s noticed all of this, but has also completely failed to put it together.

“So, what’s your conclusion, detective?” Kon asks.

“I don’t… know,” Tim huffs, and rubs the heel of his hand into one of his eyes like it’s about to give up on him and he needs to fight it into submission. “And I can’t think of what happened ten months ago that would’ve started a change in behaviour or—”

“Can I give you a hint?” Kon asks, swallowing down the nerves it immediately gives him, just to offer.

Tim blinks. “Wait, you’re aware of the change in behaviour?”

“Yeah, Tim,” Kon says, only keeping himself from laughing at the consternation on Tim’s face by the skin of his teeth.

Tim looks between him and the murderboard, a deep frown on his face. “So what happened ten months ago?”

“Well, eleven months ago, you told us you’re bi,” Kon says. He folds his arms across his chest and tucks his hands under his biceps to keep Tim from noticing them shake with nerves. Not that Tim’s really in a state to notice anything at this point. “And it took me about a month to do some soul searching and figure out that I am, too?”

The furrow between Tim’s eyes gets just a little deeper, like he can’t make the math problem add up. “But… if that’s it, then why are you looking at me like…”

He trails off, staring at the board for an excruciating enough length of time that Kon seriously considers just flying away and hoping Tim’s so out of it that he won’t actually remember this conversation.

“Wait, you like me?” Tim asks, face fever-bright when he looks away from the board to stare at Kon instead.

“Only kind of, like, a lot?” Kon replies, balling his hands into fists under his arms.

“Oh,” Tim says, and finally, to Kon’s relief, his face smooths out into a smile. “Cool.”

And, mystery solved, he immediately loses power to all systems, and slumps into a deep sleep. When he starts to topple forward off the desk like a marionette with the strings cut, Kon swoops forward to catch him. There’s probably a bed somewhere in this microcave, but if there is, it’s completely buried by Tim’s boxes of files, and Kon doesn’t want to dig. He cradles Tim in his arms and carries him out of the cave into the uncharacteristically pleasant Gotham evening, and when Tim burrows closer into his chest and murmurs, “like you too,” Kon can only smile.

#kon-el #conner kent #tim drake #superboy #red robin #timkon #dc #the ghost ship scribbles

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tizeline · 8 months

Note

What is Draxum's relationships with each of his kids?

I'd assume he's closest to Mikey due to their shared interest in the mystic arts, as well as Mikey's emotional attachment to anyone he considers family 🥰

I find it funny how similar Donnie and Draxum are in cannon and I wonder how that will play out in this AU

The same thing with Leo and Splinter were very similar to each other despite being on opposing sides.

Yeah, I'd say Draxum and Mikey are the closest with each other. Draxum loves all his sons, but he really has a soft spot for Mikey. Mikey in turn is very devoted to Draxum, I've mentioned it before but Mikey's strong desire to do the right thing paired up with a lifetime of his father convincing him that destroying humanity is the right thing has led to Mikey being very determined to fulfill Draxum's plan. Also him being a prodigy with mystic powers leads to him spending a lot of time training his abilites with Draxum.

Raph is basically Draxum's second in command, as the oldest of his brothers he of course is the leader of the team when Draxum isn't the one issuing out orders. Draxum puts a lot of responsibility on Raph, responsibility that Raph very much takes seriously so Draxum as a result also has a lot of trust in him.

Poor Leo is still very much dealing with some intense Middle Child Syndrome here lol. To be clear, Draxum still loves Leo, and vice versa, but Draxum's role as a parent has a tendency to clash with his role as a... what, a military commander? Something along those lines. Listen, he's preparing to lead the yokai into war against the humans, and with his sons on the frontlines he needs to quickly figure out their individual strengths so that can help them evolve their specific skillsets. Mikey has his mystic abilities, Raph has his physical power and Leo.... Well, we know that Leo's expertise lies in his strategic thinking, except neither he nor Draxum has figured that out yet lol. Draxum is the leader, he comes up with the plans, and Raph's in charge otherwise. He doesn't notice Leo's leadership capabilities because he doesn't even think to look for them.

Leo's situation is kinda similar in this AU to what is in canon, where his self-esteem issues caused by him not feeling like he's bringing enough to the team paired up with him being a total Daddy's Boy and craving parental validation that he doesn't feel like he's getting because Draxum is more focused on Leo's brothers so he acts out to get attention and again Draxum's parental duties clashes with his WAR LORD duties or whatever because dammit son I love you but you need to quit goofing off you're a soldier and uh.... yeah...... Leo feeling a bit like the black sheep of his family (hah, sheep, cuz Draxum's a... hah) is another contributing factor to him being the first to turn sides.

And yeah, you make a good point, Donnie being so similar to Draxum vs Leo being so similar to Splinter is.... ooooooo, that's fun, there's so much potential there. Draxum's definitely dissapointed that Donnie's so gifted when it comes to the sciences only for him to be all like "Alchemy??🤨🤨🤨 Mystic science??🤨🤨🤨 That's not scientifically accurate!🤨🤨🤨" and just rejecting almost anything yokai-related.

Actually, Leo reminding Draxum of Splinter has a lot of fun possibilites too. Draxum being all like "Ah, he's just like Lou Jitsu!🤩" while simultaniously being all like "Ugh, he's just like Lou Jitsu...😒"

#Tiz Sep AU #tizel talk #tmnt #rottmnt #rottmnt au #rottmnt seperated au

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thankskenpenders · 1 year

Text

As I'm sure many of you are already aware, Did You Know Gaming (who have been doing some really great investigative work lately) recently put out a video on canceled Sonic games. The whole thing's worth a watch, but I have to bring it up here specifically because they talk about the plans for Sonic Chronicles 2 with a LOT of new info directly from the lead designer.

youtube

The section on how the story of Sonic Chronicles 2 would have went starts at 9:45. It's very interesting! He outlines the whole plot, including the fact that they were going to end with ANOTHER obvious plot hook for a sequel in the hopes that they or some other studio could keep the Sonic Chronicles series going indefinitely. Sonic Team even claimed they were interested in using Chronicles characters like Shade in other games. It's crazy to imagine a timeline where this might have become a pillar of the franchise.

I refuse to mourn the loss of the sequel, though, because y'all saw me stream the original. It was miserable. And with the original game selling and reviewing decently well, they would have had little reason to go back to the drawing board and overhaul that game's bizarrely hateful design.

Of course, DYKG also had to talk about the reason why the game was canceled. I was dreading this because of how often people tend to get the basic facts of the Penders cases wrong or downplay the obvious Archie Knuckles inspiration in Chronicles. But no, they did their homework! And they got the details right in part because, well... they asked Penders for comment directly. And he sent them back a MASSIVE wall of text about the whole ordeal, including some fascinating details that I don't believe I've heard before!

You can go to 15:19 in the video and scrub through to read the many, MANY screencaps of their emails from Ken, but here are the most interesting and/or hilarious tidbits to me:

#1: Perjury!

As we already knew, Ken claimed that the incomplete, photocopied contract Archie presented in court was a forgery, and that he had never signed a work for hire contract.

The judge obviously knew that one side had to be lying here, and thus was more than willing to present the case to a jury to let them decide the truth... and send whoever was deemed the liar to jail for perjury. (The judge apparently looked Ken directly in the eye when he said this, which... well, make of that what you will.)

Archie's lawyers knew that they didn't have a completely airtight case and obviously did not want to go to jail. So they decided to settle instead of going to trial in front of a jury.

(I will reiterate that Archie's arguments not working out is overall a GOOD thing, because we really do not want to set a legal precedent where corporations can "lose" a contract for a creator, make up a story about what was on the contract, and then have that hold up in court. They gotta get that shit in writing. And they didn't. They fucked up!)

#2: Sega was threatening to revoke the Sonic license!

As we knew, Sega wanted nothing to do with the comic copyright lawsuit. To them, it was Archie's job as licensee to deal with their freelancers. (Y'all watch Succession? You know how Logan loves lackeys who will eat shit for him without him having to even hear about the problem? Yeah.) And, in fact, according to Ken, Sega gave Archie an ultimatum: if they wanted their license to make Sonic comics renewed, they were gonna have to deal with Ken on their own, and cover all the costs.

Yeah, uh, this kinda makes me think that Sega being pissed about the ongoing Scott Fulop copyright case in 2016 may have been a bigger factor in Archie Sonic's cancellation than I previously thought. There was a lot going on at the time that could have contributed, but, y'know.

Anyway, Archie sued Ken for "damaging their business" largely because Sega was threatening to take away the Sonic IP. But because Archie couldn't ask Sega for help and they couldn't produce an original contract, they had to settle.

There's another detail I find funny here, though. Ken WANTED Sega to get involved in the comic copyright case, thinking that Sega would strongarm Archie into paying him the millions of dollars he wanted for "using his work without permission" so that they could be done with it. I mean, sure. I guess Sega wouldn't have cared about Archie's finances, but still. I'm not so sure that would've worked out for him.

#3: Shade!

Yes, Penders still claims he legally owns Shade, and under advice from his lawyer still intends to put out an NFT of her to put his claim to the test. Yes, it's incredible that he still hasn't put out the damn NFT. It only needs to be one image, which he already drew! The market has collapsed!

Anyway, building an argument off the legal concept of estoppel, he says that if Sega continues to not do anything about his claims that he owns Shade then, in the eyes of the court, they'll be forfeiting their claims to Shade altogether. But they aren't going to do anything because they never wanted any part in the copyright battles in the first place, and to them Chronicles is a long dead asset not worth fighting over. Why bother trying to use Shade again and giving Ken a reason to take them back to court when they can just move on? It's not like this franchise is short on characters. And so Ken can say that Shade and Julie-Su are literally the same character, and if he owns Julie-Su then therefore he also owns Shade.

Our copyright system is, indeed, a nightmare. Chronicles should have been halfway to the public domain by now.

#4: Sega's oversight on the Archie comics!

Ken says that in his first year on the series Sega only requested some dialogue changes here and there through the editor. They never requested huge script changes, and also never spoke to Ken directly. After that first year, they stopped asking for dialogue changes altogether, and Ken "had a free hand to do pretty much whatever he wanted." Yeah, no surprise there.

He does, however, say that Archie's original deal with Sega stated that they weren't allowed to create ANY new Sonic characters without informing Sega. They would've needed to make a contract every single time to get Sega's approval and make it absolutely crystal clear that Sega owned the whole cast. And then Archie just... didn't do that! And didn't tell any of the freelance creatives not to come up with new characters! Had Archie followed this rule, the trajectory of the comics would have been completely different, but there also never would've been a copyright battle in the first place.

What a shitshow. Truly.

#tkp post

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charlosvibesonly · 2 months

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One, Two, Three, Four (based on a poem I wrote)

Lando Norris Imagine

You’re at the McLaren garage, adjusting your headset and double-checking the data on your tablet. It’s another hectic day at the track, but you’ve gotten used to the chaos. As a mechanical engineer for the team, every detail counts. You’re focused, determined, and have a reputation for being one of the best in the paddock.

Lando Norris strides in, his usual confident grin plastered on his face. You’ve seen him around, of course, but never had a proper conversation. He’s the rising star of the team, always surrounded by fans and media.

“One, two, three, four,” you mutter under your breath, counting the seconds until the meeting starts.

“What’s that?” Lando asks, tilting his head curiously.

“Oh, just keeping track of time,” you reply, feeling your cheeks heat up slightly.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, taking a seat next to you.

“Sure,” you say, trying to keep your composure. His presence is almost overwhelming, but you remind yourself to stay professional.

“So, you’re the genius behind our car’s performance?” he says, looking genuinely impressed.

You laugh softly. “I’m just part of a big team. We all contribute.”

“Well, I’m glad we have you. Makes my job a lot easier,” he says with a wink.

Later that day, you find yourself working late in the garage. The rest of the team has left, but you’re determined to finish analyzing the latest data. You’re so engrossed in your work that you don’t notice Lando approaching.

“One, two, three, four,” you count to yourself, focusing on tightening a bolt.

“Why do you keep counting?” Lando’s voice startles you, and you nearly drop your wrench.

“Oh, uh, yeah. It helps me concentrate,” you admit, looking up to see him smiling at you.

“You know, you’re pretty amazing at what you do,” he says, leaning against the workbench. His casual demeanor makes you feel more at ease.

You laugh nervously. “Thanks, Lando. You’re not too bad yourself on the track.”

He grins. “Not too bad, huh? I’ll take that.”

He stays for a while, asking you questions about your work and sharing stories from the track. It’s the first real conversation you’ve had with him, and you’re surprised by how easy it is to talk to him.

As he leaves, he turns back and says, “Let’s grab a coffee sometime. Just to chat.”

You nod, trying to hide your excitement. “Sure, that sounds nice.”

A few days later, you find yourself sitting across from Lando at a small café. It’s a rare moment of calm amidst the whirlwind of the racing season. You’re nervous but excited, wondering if this is just a friendly outing or something more.

“One, two, three, four,” you count silently, trying to steady your nerves.

“What are you thinking about?” Lando asks, sipping his coffee.

“Just… how surreal this is. Having coffee with you,” you admit, feeling a bit shy.

He chuckles. “Why? I’m just a regular guy.”

You smile. “Maybe, but you also take my breath away.”

Lando’s eyes soften. “Is it my smile, or my eyes?”

“Both,” you say without hesitation.

You talk for hours, sharing stories about your lives, your passions, and your dreams. It’s clear that there’s a connection between you, something deeper than just a professional relationship.

The next time, it’s dinner. The atmosphere is different, more intimate. You’re at a quiet restaurant, the soft glow of candles creating a cozy ambiance. The conversation flows easily, laughter mingling with the clinking of cutlery. You feel comfortable around Lando, more so than you’ve felt with anyone in a long time.

“One, two, three, four,” you count, trying to keep your excitement in check.

“Why do you keep counting?” Lando asks again, his curiosity piqued.

You smile shyly and take out a folded piece of paper from your pocket. “It’s a bit silly, but I wrote this poem for you. It kind of explains it.”

Lando leans in, interested. “Can I hear it?”

You nod and begin to read:

“One, Two, Three, Four, I count to myself, The number of poems I write, Enemies to lovers? No, we are love at first sight.

One, Two, Three, Four, I count to myself, The number of times you take my breath away, Is it your smile, or your eyes? On my heart, it’s forever engraved.

One, Two, Three, Four, I count to myself, The number of delusions I have, A coffee date or Dinner? It won’t matter, it’s your company I crave.

One, Two, Three, Four, I count to myself, The number of sighs I take, Am I the earth to your sun? Or, maybe it’s my fate.”

Lando listens intently, his expression softening with each line. When you finish, he reaches across the table, taking your hand in his.

“Am I the earth to your sun?” he repeats, a playful smile on his lips.

“Maybe,” you say, meeting his gaze.

Lando smiles mischievously. “Or maybe, it was our fate." You bury your face in your hands, "It's too much, I am so embarrassed."

He smiles warmly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You know, you take my breath away too. Every time I see you, I count the moments until we meet again.”

After dinner, he walks you back to your hotel, and as you stand outside your door, he leans in and kisses you softly.

You pull back slightly, looking into his eyes. “What now?” you ask softly.

Lando smiles, his thumb brushing your cheek. “Maybe I give you enough love for you to write a new poem for me,” he replies, winking, and pushing you with him into your room.

#lando norris imagine #lando imagine #lando x reader #lando norris #lando x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader

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pokemoncenter · 6 months

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On RP Etiquette

While this post is mostly intended for the Pokemon IRL RP community, the basic rules and thrust of this post should apply just as well to all RP.

(Written with help from @wingsofachampion!)

On “Yes, And”

RP, when you get right down to it, is a form of improvisational theater. Comedy, drama, the exact genre doesn’t matter, but it’s still improv all the way down. And that means the golden rule of improv still applies.

“Yes, And” is the basic rule of improv. It means: ‘Accept what came before without just shutting it down’ (“yes”), and then build on it and continue to iterate on The Bit (“and”). Sometimes, ‘Yes, But’ works just as well. What’s important is that you build on what came before without simply shutting it all down.

“No, And” can also work well. What doesn’t work is a flat ‘no’. Those are generally discouraged, because it shuts down the RP- Where do you go when your contributions have simply been discarded and swept away like nothing? This isn’t to say you can’t ever refuse; keeping your boundaries is just as important in RP as it is in life. But RP is a collaborative sport, and you have to keep the other party in mind as well.

As Professor Oak says, there is a time and place for everything.

Building off the previous post in a constructive way, even if it is denying it, is what is important.

To use an example:

If Sophora says legendary Pokemon do not exist, a reply of “Really? But what about [a specific legendary]?” can be acceptable or fun. So can “Yeah, and neither do flying-types!” or something similarly ludicrous. But what is not fun, is when a reply is simply “[a picture of legendary Pokemon waving at the camera right now]”.

Similarly, for those playing sapient Pokemon or humans-turned-Pokemon, the post could be “I hate having a tail!”, and the responses could fall into several categories. “Humans don’t have tails!” would be acceptable, or “the furry RPers are weird” would be… less so but still on the safe side of the line. “[picture of you as a human right now] STOP LYING” wouldn’t be. Because, it goes back to the same thing: How is your RP partner supposed to reply to that?

Which brings us to our next point.

On Thinking Two Replies Deep

When I reply in a post, one thing I always try to keep in mind is that I have some sort of ‘hook’ in my reply for the other person to reply to. If it’s just shutting someone down entirely, there’s no possible reply other than a ‘nuh-uh’ ‘yuh-huh’ chain that would be more at home on an elementary school playground.

It is related to “yes, and”, but still distinct. The point of it is that when you reply, you be sure to consider how others can reply. You can think of a few ways people can reply, and then go even deeper, and try to predict entire conversational flows. This way, you’re prepared, and you have a constant supply of ‘hooks’- And that means you can keep the RP going, and not shut it down.

In my case, the most common cause of me stopping replying in an RP thread is simply that I do not have anything I feel I can reply to. I have no contributions, and so I do not contribute. If there’s no hook, I can’t reply. On the other hand, just because you have a hook, doesn’t mean the thread will go exactly how you think, and a lot of the fun in RP is seeing how things go differently from what you expected.

But it’s always best to try to think two replies deep- Never just consider your reply, but consider how others will reply to your reply.

On Checking the Pinned Post

This one, I’m not sure needs to be said, but I will re-emphasize it anyway. If you’re going to be interacting with someone to build off them, please be sure you read their pinned post. So many times I get people who are directly contradicting everything in my pinned post and it’s difficult to deal with.

On Giving and Receiving Engagement

Many people do wonder why they aren’t getting engagement. The secret answer to that is not actually secret: People will interact with who they know. If you want engagement from others, you have to give engagement to others yourself.

If you have a new blog, no one will really know anything or interact with it until you get out there and start interacting more. And even if you are a well-established blog, that can still dry up fast if you don’t keep it going. RP is a communal sport- You have to give in order to get. This is true for engagement, for interaction, and even for the replies I was talking about from the start- You can’t get replies if you don’t give hooks.

#ooc post

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neousfics · 2 months

Text

Dead Boy Detectives Fic Recs (A Form of Genius Edition)

If you liked my fic A Form of Genius try reading a few of these excellent fics which inspired it: The Case of The... by sphisticatedyet Words: 6,689 Rating: T Status: Complete Summary:

Edwin wants to call it The Case of The Acid-Spraying Cephalopods, because that was what the actual case was about.

Charles wants to call it The Case of The First Kiss, because that's the only part that actually mattered.

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An unfortunate run in with a monster leaves the Dead Boy Detectives stranded at (newly undead) Niko's apartment without any clothing, so Edwin borrows her dressing gown. Charles realises some things. Review: Edwin in a dress Edwin in a dress Edwin in a dress Edwin in a dress Edwin in a dress Edwin in a--

You make me feel like I am whole again by ch3kov Words: 1,284 Rating: G Status: Complete Summary:

Edwin didn’t turn back to his book. “What are you thinking about?” Charles glanced back up at him, at flecks of sunlight dancing in brown pupils, at the innocent curiosity on his face, and thought, fuck it. “Would you want to– would you want to kiss? Uh, me. Would you want to kiss me?” He blurted, eyes wide as his brain caught up with his mouth, but he didn’t retract the question and he didn’t look away. He just met Edwin’s shocked gaze as the other boy processed what he’d just been asked. “S–Sorry?” Edwin finally stuttered, turning rigid next to Charles’ likely stupidly relaxed form. Charles bit his lip, sliding his feet from the table back to the floor and turning in his chair to face Edwin properly.

“I think it might help me to figure stuff out. To figure us out. But if you don’t want to, or you want it to be only if I’m absolutely sure–” “Okay.” “...What?” “Okay,” Edwin’s eyes were wide, and he was (ironically) pale as a ghost, but he nodded slowly. “You can kiss me,”

Review: Short, sweet, cute as hell, we love boys figuring things out

Once Again (with feelings) by Becci Barnes (BeccEEE) Words: 3,336 Rating: G Status: Complete Summary: Even after returning to the comfortable familiarity of their London-based Agency, Edwin’s mood is as gloomy as the weather outside. Although Charles doesn’t really expect his mate to open up about it, he tries to provide some help talking it through. He definitely wasn't ready to be asked such a frank question, for precisely two reasons: 1) Edwin was very peculiar when it came to trying new things. 2) Charles never believed his friend was into kissing at all...

Review: Good characterization, the boys feel really comfortable with each other and I love that, very wholesome kissing + Edwin deserves a chance to be kissed by someone he actually likes lmao

Ice lollies by Th30L14m Words: 3,343 Rating: Technically Unrated but it's Explicit Status: Complete Summary: What begins as harmless teasing on an unusually warm May day ends with a lesson for Charles never to underestimate his best mate and his dedication to research.

Review: I want Edwin to be a slut so bad it hurts and this helps Made You Look by Baby_Spinach Words: 6,436 Rating: M Status: Complete Summary: "You let him get away?" Crystal says. "I thought you said this'd be a cakewalk!"

"Thank you for your contribution, Crystal," Edwin says testily. "Clearly we were wrong, and now another innocent may die because of it. Happy?"

"All right, settle down, you lot…" Charles says in the placating tone he's been using a lot more since Crystal's integration into the agency. "Yeah, we underestimated the pervy git and he's now running around wearing Edwin's face. So what are we going to do about it?"

-OR-

A shapeshifting incubus takes on Edwin's likeness. Charles gets very confused.

Review: Incubi and Succubi being a vehicle for personal growth is my kink, also really fun writing and characterization. I could definitely hear the characters saying all these lines + Edwin is not treated like a 5-year-old which is greatly appreciated

2 dead 2 boy by ObsessedWithFandom Words: 29,894 Rating: M Status: Complete Summary: It had been pretty obvious to Crystal from the start: their closeness and comfort with each other, the way they moved in sync, the way Edwin couldn’t quite contain his jealousy at Charles’ interest in her. She’d seen it before (where?), a relationship that one person wanted open and the other didn’t but would go along with, out of love. Ah, lack of communication. The enemy of polyamory.

Or: Crystal comes to the horrifying realization that these boys are not dating, and leads them to enlightenment (polyamory).

Review: I have quite the soft spot for a good poly fic and I thought this one was very well done + well researched, the communication felt genuine and it was thoughtful, cute, interesting, and fun

you will never be unloved by me (you are too well tangled in my soul) by emryses Words: 4,091 Rating: T Status: Complete Summary: A night in Port Townsend, after Hell, Charles and Edwin talk.

“You really didn’t remember what you look like?” Charles asked. “I fear I’ve already forgotten again," Edwin said. The admission didn’t sound sad, just factual. So Edwin was being very Edwin about this. It was only natural, then, that Charles became very Charles about it all. “You have a very straight nose,” Charles said. “And, um, a sort of soft jawline—strong chin, though. Thick brows, and high cheekbones. Your hair is brown, and your eyes are green. You get a little crinkle between your eyebrows whenever you’re doing practically anything.” Charles demonstrated by glowering playfully in Edwin’s direction. “Thinking, reading, telling me off.”

Review: Explored the genuine and kind aspects of Charles personality which I appreciated

It started with Eyeliner by CosmicJukebox Words: 4,598 Rating: T Status: Complete Summary: "What do you propose we do in the meantime then? You’ve already packed your bag of tricks, and I’ve read everything we should need to know to handle the case at least thrice."

Charles opened his mouth, then closed it again, looking at the floor. After a moment he seemed to shake it off, hesitantly meeting Edwin’s gaze. "Well… I'm still not entirely ready."

Edwin blinked at him in confusion. "You're not? Have you forgotten to pack something?"

"Nah mate, haven't put my eyeliner on have I?" he said, grinning lopsidedly.

"I hardly see how that will keep you busy. It’s like you said a minute ago, it only takes a moment to change our appearance."

"Usually yeah, but… I was kinda thinking that today I'd do it the old-fashioned way," he said, producing a pencil from the back-pocket of his jeans. "And that... maybe you'd like to join me?"

Review: I think it ought to be fairly clear why this inspired a fic like AFoG

Spiral All the Way Down by H2OGIRL48 Words: 3,153 Rating: M Status: Complete Summary: “You alright, mate?” Charles asked while suppressing a laugh.

“Yes, um, yes of course.” Edwin mumbled trying to get his composure back.

Charles watched his eyes drop to where he was still holding on to his arm, probably curious on why Charles hadn’t let go yet. So was Charles to be honest. But he didn’t want to let go. Not yet. - Or, Edwin figures it out while Charles catches up.

Review: the tags refer to this as "pretty porn" and I'm inclined to agree

run my fingers through your hair by shadowquill17 Words: 3,647 Rating: T Status: Complete Summary: Charles knows that Edwin likes his hair neat and tidy, solidly stuck to his head, dependable. It's his way of doing things. But even Edwin can't control everything, and sometimes his hair gets a little messy during cases.

Charles can't stop thinking about it.

Review: If you're disappointed by the lack of time I spent exploring Charles realizing Edwin is pretty, than this fic is for you

Comment if you have any other fics you think people who enjoyed AFoG would enjoy! Thanks for all your support, my darlings <3

#dead boy detectives #fic rec #fic recs #payneland #painland #charles x edwin

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lactoseintolerentswag · 11 months

Text

Rise Characterizations Pt. 6!!!!!!

After the turtles and Splinter, here we have the girl Ever. She's pretty spunky, I had fun analyzing her for writing.

April O'Neil Character Notes

Language Habits:

Uses bae/aave, something she could have passed on down to Raph and Mikey as they also use bae/aave

Most notably uses "mm-kay" in place of "okay"

Uses a lot of filler language, interjections, or onomatopoeia. Think "mhm", "uh huh, uh huh!", "oh yeah!"

"Ah nuts" is her go-to disappointed phrase

Grits and or strains her teeth when she's frustrated

Uses her own name (the full "April O'Neil!!!!") as a battle cry, or brings her name as a motivator i.e. "the one and only April O'Neil will solve this case!"

The more worked up she the louder she tends to be, this extends to stronger emotions such as passion or panic

Over text uses emoticons

Refers to splinter as "splints"

Refers to the turtles as "the fam"

Refers to villains/antagonists through insults rather than their names

Personality:

Adrenaline junkie, as she's often the first to jump into a fight. She also laughs in the face of danger, and was seen maniacally laughing and smiling the entirety of the gumbus episode

Jack of all trades. April has a lot of skills she's picked up from various jobs or personal adventures she's seeked out (like canoeing through the sewers in a hazmat suit and earning a crane license)

Wild and blunt. April is Loud, and rarely ever afraid to share her opinion. This can either make people draw back from her bluntness or be drawn in by her excitableness

Self-conscious. Despite her strong sense of self-esteem, April is still often motivated to impress the popular kids at school or at least fit in. She doesn't want to be seen as the weird kid, or associated with the weird kids

Persistent. April is always quick on her feet to hit back whatever comes at her. She has a good set of problem-solving skills that she's gained from all the skills she's picked up

Loyal. She's always willing to back up the turtles, and goes out of her way to keep Splinter happy with her company. Once she finds a friend it's hard to pry her away

Unlucky. Mostly in absurd or mundane ways. She has that whole curse with her birthday, but things don't often tend to go right for April O'Neil, which contributes to the disasters that cause her to get fired all the time

Miscellaneous:

Code-named "yellow submarine" by raph

Tends to have information on wifi passwords, secret exists, and access to keys from all the jobs she's been hired and fired from

Has a preference for blunt objects as weapons (most commonly bats, clubs, pipes)

Uses the environment in a fight in general

She's been part of the "warren stone fanclub" since 2010, and keeps all her ids in her wallet

Likes unicorns and cats (as seen through her brief texts with sunita and her pajamas)

Loves laser tag

Can beat Donnie at video games (if he didn't use cheat codes)

"sherlock_corn" is her handle online

Lives in an apartment/flat with her mom (showed onscreen briefly), that has its own bathroom

Has a subtly mentioned interest in fantasy, as noted by Donnie she tends to download fantasy rpgs and freaks out over cosplay wizards

Just an end note to all of you who aren't black, some offensive tropes I would stray from is making April the angry black girl. This is one of the most common stereotypes of black women in media. I wouldn't mistake April's passion or loudness for aggression. It would be a disservice to dilute her lively character into familiar but ultimately harmful tropes in media.

I am in no way saying you cannot portray April as angry, this is a powerful emotion and it should be explored with black characters, but I am saying that should not be the base of her character. Because well that's not even April's base. She's centered around fun and thrill-seeking.

Wikipedia (yes I know, But they have proven to be more dependable these past years) has a good article on the angry black woman stereotype, so that would a good place to start research on what to Avoid. In my splinter post I also provided some links on doing research on writing poc.

---

Anyway!!! We've ended our analysis trip of the main cast in s1. Next I'm thinking of picking apart our antagonists :]. Gonna take a break to work on my own fic, but stay tuned if you found any of my other posts helpful! It's been a fun ride with you all <3

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt april #rottmnt april o'neil #character analysis #writing #fan fic #long post #critter talks #she's the weird girl of all time #she's like lilo to me

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rimouskis · 11 months

Note

could you explain more about what you view as the before era and what you view as the after? i need to learn my herstory

I think this requires a more detailed and educated/researched answer than I can give after an exhausting workday and an after-hours work event, but I'm going to do my best and also open up the floor in reblogs for people to chip in their thoughts

foremost: a DISCLAIMER that this post does not aim to shit on writers from the "before" era. there are many classic fics that I love and enjoy, even if I consider their characterizations to be "less accurate"* than the ones we have in the after era.

*aside to say: accuracy is based only off of literal media accounts we have of these men; we do not know them, we should not claim to know them, and they have had different comfort levels with the media knowing selective truths about their lives [sid out of choice, geno out of media xenophobia] than they did when these early fics were being written.

"before" fics (which I tend to refer to as "classic" fics, and had their heyday in 2012-2013 but continued up until 2016ish) tended to have more regimented roles for sid and geno. sid was usually the protagonist; geno was the love interest.

this came with a cascading set of characteristics assigned to each guy. sid was poor-little-meow-meow'd. geno was the pursuer in the relationship. sid usually bottomed. sid had the whole spacetoaster moment (he was the inspiration for the term, haha). there wasn't much a/b/o fic but sid was, like, the omega-fied one and geno was alpha-ized.

something I've been thinking about more recently is how 2012-2013 era sidgeno displayed signs of Migratory Slash Fandom. I don't think of MSF as an inherently negative/condemning thing, but I think it's a phenomenon that deserves to be mentioned/analyzed, yeah?

MSF thrives on big character differences.... like, grumpy/sunshine, sarcastic/broody, genius/empath. it's all about emphasizing disparate archetypes to create natural tension in a story. this works really well in most romance novels! I love it!

the issues arise when people try to make characters fit into these preset dynamics. and, frankly, when sidgeno first got big, we straight-up didn't know as much about sid and geno. I mean that. despite sid being EXTENSIVELY covered by media from age, like, 14, he was really tight-lipped compared to what we have now.

and geno was.... there. I don't mean that as a diss—he was INCREDIBLE, but the media totally passed him over again and again. or they helped contribute to stereotypes of him being a dumb oaf who didn't know english.

aside: ironically I think that helped in creating sidgeno and not, like.... sidflower or sidtanger. geno was so "DIFFERENT" from sid (aka: russian, characterized by media as not knowing how to speak [in comparison to sid's highly curated media soundbites]) that it meant he was the best candidate for A Ship with sid.

a lot of the really big writers who got into sidgeno were fandom veterans with lots of experience in other big fandoms. to me, that means MSF had a hand in all this. and we should be grateful, because it led to the BOOM of hockey fic, and of sidgeno fic specifically. modern hrpf wouldn't exist without it.

that being said, those template ship dynamics, plus the media's attitude then towards sid and geno in its coverage, led to those characterizations of whiny soft sensitive boy sid who needed to be rescued even though he was the best hockey player EVER, and geno as the lumbering tall strong alpha not-that-bright Love Interest Man.

this isn't to say every fic was this way, or that this is BAD. I, uh, love poor-little-meow-meow-ing sid and omegafying the hell out of him. what I'm saying is that it was a near-ubiquitous characterization across the board.

that all changed in 2016-2018. I personally wholly credit sevenfists, though I imagine it's more nuanced than that, but: my blog, I make the rules here. I don't know if sevenfists was psychic or just highly observant and absolutely excellent at reading people (and that's basically the same thing, right?), but characterization shifts began taking place in fic....

and the coolest thing happened, in that those characterizations were seemingly reinforced by more media coverage. the back to back cups brought with them TONS of interviews with and media about the team, and sid and geno in particular. the coolest part of it was that sid had loosened up a LOT and geno had gotten more comfortable (and had gotten a reporter firmly on his side).

the interviews about sid post 2016 were just SO different. so much information started coming out, and a LOT of it conflicted with Ye Olde Characterizations. as it turned out, sid was deeply one of the boys. he was funny. everyone liked him. he loved hosting. he was insanely comfortable around almost everyone, including strangers, because he's a little freak who's kind to everyone. he can make smalltalk like no one's business. he's kind of gross. he likes to giggle and be in on jokes and get into the thick of it. he isn't some blushing virgin bride sold off of mario's doorstep, yeah?

and geno, too, was finally getting the coverage he deserved. and his personality was both fortified by age and better shown to us through media. as it turns out, he isn't some happy go lucky oaf. he's mercurial and intensely aware of what others think of him (and he CARES). he's sensitive and thoughtful but also can lash out at random times. he has a wicked sense of humor that he uses as a defense mechanism and as a surefire way to get people to like him, which matters to him. and, as everyone says, he is SMART.

if you had to boil it down, I'd say that post-2016, it became clear that SID is the confident one and GENO is the insecure one. and fic caught onto that with a miraculously fast pace. also: they're more alike than they are different, but I still think romance inherently feeds off of difference and tension, so we still exaggerate things to make the stories ✨WORK✨.

I'm not going to give examples of pre- and post- era fics, because I don't want to point any fingers and say someone was doing characterization "wrong." that's not the takeaway I want anyone to have here.

fandom attitudes have changed. it's been 10 years since that first wave of fics, and while I don't think that's very long, it's a hell of a long time on the internet, and in a niche internet community. what was once the standard for fics (and what was well-read, and what people gravitated towards) was different. not worse—different.

I think it's fair to say the "after" era of fics is more "accurate" to what we know of sid and geno. it's also fair to say that this is only the case because we have a WEALTH of information, character-revealing interviews and videos and anecdotes, that Ye Old Authors could only dream of getting.

I really love the story of how everything has changed, and it's a fabulous microcosm of fandom evolution and how approaches to fanworks have changed and grown with fandom, and I think it's all so so cool.

#additions welcome!#I also feel like I've made this post before lol #gather round children it's time for granny rimouskis to spin the tale of the sidgeno evolution once more

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virgoilluminati · 3 months

Text

A Match Made in England

Episode 1: Just two kids from england; the ups and downs of football...

A/N: This got put as mature (i have no idea why hahah) so I've re-uploaded it to make sure it's appropriate.

Series Masterlist | Next part

Episode 1

Settling into the inviting cushions, you became a tableau of spring comfort. The distant hum of a camera being activated blended seamlessly with the rustling leaves outdoors. Levi, the seasoned producer with a knack for drawing out personal narratives, sat across from you. His demeanor was calm yet engaging, a reassuring presence amid the studio's buzzing equipment.

"Okay, where to begin..." you mused aloud.

Levi nodded thoughtfully. "What about signing for England?"

The scene transitions to a bustling pressroom years earlier, where a 17-year-old you, with long, flowing hair cascading down your back, sat nervously next to Sarina Weigman after being signed to the England national team.

Reporters leaned forward eagerly, their cameras clicking and pens poised.

One interviewer asked, "Y/N, you're the youngest Lioness to join the senior team. Do you feel the weight of expectations?"

With a shy smile, your long hair framing your face, you responded, "Honestly, it's an honor to be here. I'm just going to give my best and learn from these incredible players and coaches."

Another reporter chimed in, "Y/N, what do you think you bring to the team at such a young age?"

You took a moment, glancing at Sarina for reassurance. "I think I bring a fresh perspective and a lot of energy. I know I have a lot to learn, but I'm eager to soak up as much as I can from my teammates and coaches. Being young means I have time to grow and improve."

The flashback showed you nervously twiddling your fingers as more questions came your way.

"Do you feel any pressure considering your brother's legacy in football?" one reporter asked, the question hanging heavily in the air.

Your smile faltered for a brief second before you composed yourself. "Of course, there's always pressure when you're following in the footsteps of someone successful. But I'm here to make my own mark and contribute to the team in my own way."

Cutting to a childhood flashback, you and your older brother Noah were seen playing football in the backyard, his encouraging voice guiding your early steps in the sport.

Back in the present, you ran your fingers through your now slightly shorter hair, reflecting on that moment with Levi."

"I probably would've lied back then and said I had nothing to prove. At the time, I truly hated people who asked me about my age," you laughed. "I hated people knowing I was so much younger than everyone else, you know. I guess I felt belittled and also very undermined."

Levi looked intrigued. "How come?"

You sighed, thinking back. "I don't know, when I look back on it now, l'm like damn, you know. I was just a kid. The amount of pressure I was under—"

The little screen continued to display snippets of that press conference, overlaying the commentary, "Y/N Morrison, only 17 when she first started playing for England. Now, at 19, she stands as the youngest player in the senior squad."

Levi leaned forward with genuine curiosity. "Can you tell us more about Noah? How did he influence your journey in football?"

Another childhood flashback played out, this time of you and Noah practicing together, his supportive presence shaping your early skills and love for the game.

Levi continued, his voice gentle and probing. "Do you think some of that pressure came from your brother and the legacy he left behind?"

An awkward pause hung in the air before you let out a light laugh, breaking the tension. "Uh, yeah. Haha- I don't think being the sister of an already well-known Morrison did me any favors, no."

As the crew members bustled around, adjusting cameras and discussing logistics for the next segment, you took a moment to collect yourself, reflecting on the profound journey you had just shared and preparing to continue with the interview.

The screen seamlessly transitioned into a poignant montage. One particular video clip unveiled a pivotal moment in your shared narrative. It was a chilly evening at a local pitch, where a younger you, barely a teenager, kicked the ball around with a sense of determination mirrored in Noah's watchful gaze. This seemingly ordinary moment turned out to be a precursor to the journey that awaited you.

The video shifted to a rainy afternoon at a school tournament, where Noah, now a mentor as well as a brother, stood on the sidelines cheering your every move.

The camera caught a glimpse of Noah sharing insights and encouragement, laving the foundation for a dvnamic that encouragement, laying the foundation for a dynamic that extended beyond sibling ties.

As the montage continued, it unfolded a series of snapshots: Noah consoling you after a tough loss, the two celebrating victories with infectious joy, and the subtle exchange of nods and smiles that spoke of an unspoken understanding. Your story went beyond the spotlight, a tale of shared passion, shared defeats, and the unwavering support that siblings uniquely understand. Y/N Morrison, shaped by the echoes of Noah's footsteps, began to carve her own narrative in the beautiful game.

The scenes shifted to a day of reckoning, the moment you received your call-up to the national team. Noah, now a seasoned player, embraced you in a tight hug, the pride in his eyes telling a story of shared dreams realized. And then, the turning point. Y/N Morrison, amidst her brother's legacy, emerged as a rising star in her own right. The torch passed not just through genes but through a bond forged on countless pitches, a bond that shaped you into the player you are today.

In a touching moment, the montage included a clip where, as soon as a match ended, Noah handed his sweat-soaked shirt to you—a symbolic gesture of support and shared triumphs.

As the montage concluded, the screen faded back to the interview room, where your reflective gaze spoke volumes.

Levi, now deeply moved by the narrative that had unfolded, adjusted his notes and looked at you with a newfound respect for your journey.

The interviewer, acknowledging the depth of your shared journey, posed one final question.

Interviewer: "Looking back now, how do you see your role within the legacy you and Noah have created in the football world?"

You, with a thoughtful smile: "I see it as a story still unfolding. Noah laid the foundation, and now I'm building upon it. lum-"

Levi nodded approvingly, allowing the weight of your words to resonate in the room. However, the interview had ventured into personal territory, and you couldn't shake off the vulnerability that surfaced with the last question.

Emily, noticing your unease, interjected gently, "Why don't we take five, everyone? Y/N, take your time. We can continue whenever you're ready."

You nodded gratefully, feeling a mix of emotions after reliving such intimate moments of your journey.

You walked off the set, feeling a whirlwind of emotions after the intense interview. Emily followed closely behind, her pace matching your thoughtful stride.

"Did I do okay?" You asked with a hint of uncertainty. "I stumbled at the end—"

"You did great, Y/N! Don't worry," Emily reassured her with a warm smile. "These guys can be quite intense, don't worry I'm sure Jude is in Madrid right now, getting the same level of interrogation. Why don't you wait here—" She gestured towards the makeshift living room that had been set up in one of the spare rooms. "I'll call you back in ten?"

You nodded gratefully, finding comfort in Emily's words. You entered the cozy room, furnished with plush cushions and soft lighting, and sat down on the comfortable sofa. The room exuded a sense of calm, a stark contrast to the a stark contrast to the bustling energy of the studio outside.

As you waited, you pulled out your phone and began scrolling through messages. Moments later, a text from Jude popped up.

Jude: Hey there, dove! How's the hot seat treating you?

You grinned at his message, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood.

Y/N: Surviving so far! They didn't ask me about my secret dance moves yet.

Jude: Phew, dodged one there! Remember, if all else fails, just dazzle them with your best dance move.

You chuckled softly, enjoying your playful banter despite the distance between them. You felt a surge of warmth and affection for Jude, grateful for his ability to make you smile even in challenging moments.

Your messages continued, Jude teasing you about his own interviews and you responding with playful comebacks.

Jude: Hey, have you thought any more about Madrid?

You hesitated, your heart sinking as you read his message.

You took a deep breath before responding.

Y/N: Jude, please. I can't have this conversation again.

Jude: It's been six months, Y/N. First it was the press mania, then it was your sister's baby, now it's this TV show. When are we going to talk about it?

Your fingers hovered over the screen, conflicted emotions swirling inside you.

Y/N: My answer hasn't changed, Jude. I love you, but I love my life here too. Things are finally starting to settle down, and—

Jude: No, they're not. You're lethargic, you're sitting out almost every game now, you're always not sleeping-

Your heart raced, tears welling up in your eyes. You couldn't bear to have this argument again.

Y/N: I've been helping my sister, Jude.

Jude: But it's not just that, is it? Your barely eating, your constantly distracting yourself with work. You need to take a break.

You felt a pang of guilt. You knew Jude was right, but you weren't ready to face that reality.

Y/N: Jude, I can't have this row again.

Jude: Y/N, I'm trying to be there for you, but you won't let me in!

You closed her eyes, tears streaming down your cheeks as she struggled to find the right words. Your eyes scroll along judes words once more, lethagic, trouble sleeping, weak fitness, trouble eating...

He was right of course. Ever since the end of the world cup, you had become incredibly tired, with limited energy for the basics of tasks. You had made excuses that it was the press interviews, the constant ware and tare of family life and fame, or even sometimes just thinking you weren't getting enough hours. Deep down, you knew it was something more.

As much as you would regret it, there was a part of you that wished it was a ACL injury, something that yes would take time to heal, but could be cured. Atleast you'd know what was wrong with you. Instead whatever kept you up at night, made it difficult to keep down food and made it impossible to stay on top in football games, was tearing both you and your relationship with Jude apart

Setting your phone down on the sofa, you walked over to the kitchenette area to pour herself a glass of water. As you stood there, contemplating your next move, you felt a sudden pang in her abdomen—a sharp cramp that caught you off guard.

You winced, clutching your stomach as you leaned against the counter. It wasn't the first time you'd felt this way lately, but it was a stark reminder of your ongoing health struggles.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, you returned to the sofa and picked up your phone. With a determined expression, she typed out a message to Jude.

Y/N: Good luck with your match tonight. See you monday

Jude sat in a cozy room tucked away within the Real Madrid training grounds, the distant echoes of his teammates preparing for their final training session before the upcoming match seeping through the slightly ajar door. His phone buzzed incessantly with messages from you. With a faint sigh, he retrieved it from his pocket and read your latest text:

"Good luck with your match tonight. See you Monday x." His jaw tightened in frustration; you had once again changed the subject, avoiding the difficult conversation he knew you were reluctant to have.

"Jude, you still with us?" Romeo's voice cut through his reverie. Jude blinked, refocusing on the Spanish producer seated across from him. "Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry about that." He slipped his phone back into his pocket, mentally shifting gears to engage in the interview.

Romeo chuckled knowingly. "No worries. Let's continue.

Your journey in football-from your early days in Birmingham to now playing for Real Madrid-has been remarkable. How do you reflect on your career so far?"Jude nodded thoughtfully, a flicker of nostalgia in his eyes.

"It's been a whirlwind, mate. Starting out at Birmingham City as a young lad, then moving to Dortmund, and finally landing here at Madrid-it's been nothing short of a dream come true. Each step has taught me invaluable lessons, both on and off the pitch."

Leaning forward with interest, Romeo probed further."You've undoubtedly faced numerous challenges along the way. What would you consider the biggest challenge of your career?"

Jude grinned wryly, his mind drifting momentarily to thoughts of you. "Well, besides dodging defenders on the pitch, adapting to different leagues and cultures has been quite the challenge. Each club has its own unique style and expectations. But hey, I thrive on challenges; they've helped me evolve as both a player and a person."

Romeo's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "And what about the immense pressure of playing for a club as prestigious as Real Madrid? How do you manage that?"

A faint smile tugged at Jude's lips as he thought of his experiences. "Oh, you know, I just pretend I'm still kickin' it back in Brum with me mates. Nah, seriously though, the pressure is immense, but it's also an incredible privilege. Playing for Real Madrid demands peak performance every day. I rely on my training regimen, the banter with my teammates, and saying focused on my goals."

Romeo chuckled at Jude's casual demeanor. "Looking ahead, what are your personal and professional aspirations for the future?"

Jude leaned back, considering. "Well, professionally, I want to keep raising the bar, winning titles with Real Madrid, and maybe snaggin' a few Player of the Year awards along the way. But personally, I want to be there for the people who matter most to me, supporting 'em in every way I can."

Picking up on the personal note, Romeo inquired further.

"Family and relationships seem pivotal in your life. How do you manage to balance the demands of your career with your personal commitments?"

Jude's expression softened with a genuine warmth as he thought of you. "Ah, it's a juggle, mate. But having a strong support system makes all the difference. My family, friends, and my girlfriend-they keep me grounded. Despite the challenges and the distances, we find ways to make it work."

Romeo nodded, impressed by Jude's candid responses.

"Thank you for sharing your journey with us, Jude. It's been a pleasure."

"Cheers, Romeo," Jude replied warmly, though his thoughts were still partly occupied by concerns for you. As the interview concluded, he couldn't shake off the growing determination to support you, despite your stubbornness. It reminded him of the first time he had got sick, a couple weeks after they had moved into your family home.

Jude lay in bed, feeling utterly miserable. His head throbbed, his throat felt like sandpaper, and every muscle ached. He had caught a nasty bug, and it was knocking him down hard. Despite his condition, he had a match later that day, and he knew he had to rally.

You, always the caretaker, had spent the entire morning fussing over him, bringing him tea and making sure he took his medication. You were a natural nurse, your concern evident in the way you flitted around the room, fetching blankets and adjusting pillows.

"You really don't have to stay," Jude protested weakly, though secretly grateful for your presence.

You chuckled softly, brushing his hair back from his forehead. "Of course I do. Who else is going to make sure you don't forget to take your medicine?"

Jude managed a weak smile, reaching out to grasp your hand. "You're too good to me, you know that?"

"Just rest," you insisted, squeezing his hand gently before heading out to run some errands.

The next morning, Jude woke up feeling marginally better but was still under the weather. You, on the other hand, woke up feeling awful. Your head pounded, your nose was stuffed, and you felt like you hadn't slept at all. Despite feeling under the weather, you stubbornly insisted on going about your day as usual. You had meetings to attend and training sessions to oversee-there was no time to be sick.

Jude watched you with increasing concern as you hurried around the apartment, trying to ignore your symptoms.

"Y/N, maybe you should stay home today," he suggested again, his voice laced with worry. "You look like you could use some rest."

You waved off his concern with a weak smile. "I'll be fine, Jude. It's just a cold. I can't afford to miss work today."

Jude sat up in bed, his expression earnest. "I know you're tough, but pushing yourself when you're sick won't do you any favors. Let me take care of you for a change."

You paused, torn between your determination and Jude's heartfelt plea. You sighed, knowing he had a point but not wanting to admit defeat. "I have so much to do today, Jude. I can't just stay home."

Reluctantly, Jude nodded, knowing from experience that you were fiercely independent and determined once you set your mind to something. "Okay, but promise me you'll take it easy," he said softly.

Hours later, you returned home earlier than expected, your face flushed and your eyes watery. You sank onto the couch with a defeated sigh, clutching a box of tissues.

"What." You sniffle, your eyebrows frowning.

"Nothing." Jude says with a glint of a smirk.

"Stop smiling." You respond

"I'm sorry, it's just i told you so."

Jude, seeing your exhausted state, moved closer and gently took the tissues from your hands. "Why don't you let me make you dinner tonight?" he suggested, his voice tinged with concern. "You've pushed yourself enough today."

You looked up at him with a stubborn glint in your eyes, still not fully willing to concede. "That actually sounds really nice," you admitted reluctantly, finally allowing yourself to relax.

Jude smiled warmly, relieved to see you starting to unwind. "I'll take care of everything. You just rest and recover," he said softly, knowing that even in your stubbornness, you trusted him to take care of you when you needed it most.

But now, he wasn't so sure. Ever since the World Cup he had begun to see a change in you. You were absent most days, granted he was in Madrid which didn't help, but even on days when you could have dinner together, your mind was always somewhere else.

He understood the pressure of being the world champions, the demands to make public appearances, but sometimes he wished that you hadn't won. Not because you didn't deserve it, but because it was taking a huge toll on you and there was very little he could do about it.

***********

Leah glanced over at you with a raised eyebrow as you took a breather during your training session at Arsenal's practice ground. You had been noticeably tense all morning, and Leah, her teammate and close friend, couldn't help but address the elephant in the room.

"Yeah, okay, but what's up with you two at the moment?" Leah asked bluntly, wiping sweat from her brow. "You keep picking at each other like cats in a sack."

You sighed, your frustration evident as you leaned against the goalpost. "It's just... we've been on edge lately. You know how Jude can be sometimes."

Leah nodded knowingly. "He's a good guy, but he can be a bit cheeky," she remarked, recalling a recent incident.

"Remember that comment he made last week? You were fuming."

You rolled her eyes, her irritation flaring again. "Yeah, and rightfully so. Sometimes he doesn't think before he speaks."

Leah gave you a sympathetic look. "Look, I get it. But you two have been solid for ages. Maybe it's just a rough patch.

You should talk it out."

You sighed heavily, running a hand through her sweaty hair.

"I know.. it's just been one thing after another. First the media frenzy, then family stuff, now this reality show nonsense he's pushing for. It's like we're not on the same page anymore."

Leah nodded in understanding. "Relationships take work, especially with all the craziness in your lives. But you guys are strong. Don't let a few bumps get in the way."

You nodded thoughtfully, grateful for Leah's perspective.

"You're right. I'll talk to him. Thanks, Leah."

Leah flashed you a reassuring smile. "Anytime. Now, let's finish this training strong. No distractions!"

With renewed determination, you and Leah resumed their training, focusing on their drills and pushing themselves to perform at their peak. The afternoon sun beat down on the training ground, casting long shadows as you ran through your routines.

As you practiced, you couldn't shake Leah's words from your mind. You knew Leah was right-you needed to address the tension with Jude before it escalated further but as much as you wanted to clear the air, doubts nagged at you.

Leah noticed your distracted demeanor and decided to lighten the mood. "Hey, Y/N, remember that game against Chelsea last season?" she asked with a grin.

You chuckled, grateful for the diversion. "Oh, don't remind me. That was a tough one."

"Yeah, but you scored that amazing goal in the last minute!" Leah exclaimed, mimicking the commentator's excitement.

"The look on their faces was priceless."

You laughed, the tension easing slightly. "Yeah, that was a good moment."

You continued your banter, reminiscing about past matches and sharing stories from your time on the pitch. Despite the weight of your conversation earlier, you found herself enjoying the camaraderie with Leah, grateful for her support.

You and Leah resumed their training drills at Arsenal's practice ground, your focus returning to the swift exchanges and precise footwork demanded on the pitch. The air was alive with the sound of coaches' instructions and the rhythmic thud of balls being kicked.

After a particularly intense sprint, you paused, a slight grimace crossing you face as she clutched her abdomen.

Leah, noticed this, her brow furrowing with worry. You had been training together for years, and Leah had noticed your occasional bouts of discomfort over the past few months, especially since the incident during the World Cup where you collapsed briefly.

Leah slowed her pace, coming alongside you. "Hey, Y/N," she began cautiously, "perhaps what I should be asking is, whats up with you lately?"

You sigh defeatedly, indicating to the pain in your stomach. "It's cramps. "They come and go, but they've been worse lately. It's stopping me from sleeping and making it hard to eat-"

Leah's expression softened with concern. "Since the World Cup?"

You nodded, avoiding Leah's gaze for a moment. "Yeah. It started then, but I didn't think much of it at first."

Leah frowned, her mind racing with possibilities. "Have you seen a doctor?"

You hesitated, her voice quieter now. "Not yet. l've been putting it off. I don't want it to be a big deal."

Leah shook her head gently. "Ah now i understand Jude's frustration recently. Y/N, your health is important. You can't keep ignoring this."

You sighed again, your frustration evident. "I know, I know. I just... I don't want it to affect my game, you know? And with everything else going on..."

Leah nodded sympathetically. "I get it. But you can't keep pushing yourself like this. Promise me you'll see someone soon?"

You met Leah's gaze, her resolve firming. "Yeah. I promise."

********

You stood in front of the mirror, smoothing down the fabric of your emerald green dress. The soft candlelight flickered around you, casting a warm glow in Jude's apartment. You had gone the extra mile tonight, not just with your appearance but also in preparing a special meal for Jude. As you heard the door open, you turned to see Jude entering the room.

"You look stunning," Jude said softly, a brief smile appearing on his face as he closed the door behind him.

"Thank you," you replied with a shy smile, feeling a mix of nerves and anticipation. "I thought we could use a quiet evening together. No cameras, no distractions just us!"

Jude nodded, his eyes lingering on you appreciatively. "It's perfect," he murmured, though his mind was still clouded with the tension between you.

You sat down to dinner, the delicious aroma filling the room as you exchanged polite conversation about work and football. Jude was keen to lighten the mood, steering the conversation towards a recent match.

"So, what did you think of our performance against Barcelona?" Jude asked, taking a sip of wine.

You smiled, grateful for the change in topic. "I thought you guys played brilliantly in the second half. That goal you scored was top-notch."

Jude grinned, a hint of pride in his voice. "Thanks. It was a tough match, but we pulled through."

As you continued discussing tactics and upcoming fixtures, Jude noticed how you winced slightly every now and then, how you seemed to sit more rigidly than usual.

"You seem a bit off tonight," Jude remarked gently, reaching across the table to take your hand. "Is everything okay?"

You hesitated, your gaze flickering away for a moment.

"Yeah, just tired from the week, I guess," you replied, forcing a smile.

Jude searched your eyes, sensing there was more you weren't saying. "You know you can talk to me, right?" he said softly. "I'm here for you."

You nodded, grateful for his understanding, but unable to voice your worries just yet. The conversation shifted back to lighter topics, but the tension lingered between you.

After you finished your meal, Jude cleared the dishes while you tidied up the table. You could feel the pain in your abdomen intensifying, a relentless throb that seemed to squeeze your insides like a vice. You tried to push through it, not wanting to spoil the evening.

Jude glanced over at you, concern etched on his face.

"Damn it, y/n" Jude's voice echoed through the kitchen, frustration and worry pouring out in a torrent. "How can we be together if you won't let me in? Do you even trust me?"

You froze, your heart sinking at the raw honesty in his words.

You knew he was right, knew you had been keeping him at arm's length out of fear and stubbornness.

"I made dinner tonight to try to change this, but we keep arguing," you retorted, your voice tinged with frustration and hurt.

"You keep doing this to yourself, y/n!" Jude's voice cracked with emotion, his frustration palpable. "Pushing yourself until you can't anymore. Why won't you let me help you?"

You looked up at him through tear-filled eyes, your face contorted with pain. "I'm sorry," you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't want to ruin tonight. I just wanted one night... ONE night where it wasn't about how I was feeling. I wanted to celebrate you-."

Jude takes a sigh, loading a couple of dishes into the dishwasher before turning back over to you. "And this is surely the best way to celebrate me- being quiet and constantly wincing in pain-."

"No- !" You try to finish your sentence before the pain pulls you down, you stabilise yourself on the edge of the table, dropping a fork on the ground. A annoyed sigh leaves your body, as you attempt to pick up the fork. Jude glances over, reminding himself, that despite how stupid you could be, he still cared about you.

Jude turned around at the sound of your stifled sob, his annoyance quickly giving way to concern as he saw you doubled over in agony. Without a word, he crossed the kitchen in quick strides, his heart pounding with worry.

As he glances over, he see's your weak body, attempting to keep you from falling down. Jude's expression softened, guilt washing over him as he realised how much you had been hiding from him. As he saw your body give way, he closed the distance between you, gently taking your arm to support you.

"Hospital. Now," Jude said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You nodded weakly, clutching his hand tightly as you hurried out the door, the weight of your unspoken fears finally giving way to a shared resolve to confront whatever lay ahead.

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