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THIS JUST IN: Eddie Munson, frontman of Corroded Coffin, has arrived at the Met Gala.
As a longtime fan, here’s a contribution to @putting-eddie-munson-in-places since I know you have a ton of requests right now. I made it my mission while on a break to put these images together.
things I won’t let ai take away from human writers
em dash
“not x, not y, but z”
short sentence stacking as a stylistic choice
none of these belong to ai. these are all what human writers have been writing since day one, way before ai was invented. ai was trained to mimic how human writers write — so em dash, not x not y but z and short sentence stacking would never have been used by ai at all if ai hadn’t learned and mimicked them from human writers.
no, you are not “fighting against ai” by accusing every work that has em dash, not x not y but z or short sentence stacking in it as ai-generated, you are helping ai harm the writing community by engaging in witch hunt and scaring human writers away from creating/sharing their works for fear of being wrongly accused of using ai.
speculations, accusations and ai witch hunt harm the writing community as much as ai does, if not more.
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Djo tickets aren’t too pricey if you can get them before sell out. If you don’t get them in presale you’re cooked. Non pit tickets were 75-150ish USD but they sold out so the cheapest resell I could get on AXS was 200ish each but the seats were pretty good. It also might depend on
Oh I ended up getting some for about 100 each. Seemed like a good spot. Hopefully. Trying to enjoy more life experiences.
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You're too young, Steve's too broke and stupid, but love doesn't care.
This was an amazing request by @alionabudka I loved it and I fw with the age gap (because I am in my twenties and want Joe so bad) I hope I did you're request justice :) Steve is 21, reader is 18
Graduation was supposed to be monumental, a great mark in coming-of-age where gowns would be dawned, hats would be thrown and diplomas taken. There would be hugs and sorrowful goodbyes, a share of where one was going in the future and a promise that 'we'd keep in touch,'.
But nothing was ever what it was supposed to be in Hawkins.
Most the students in your year fled when the earthquake hit, parents with them. Hawkins high had more than halved in size, including your graduation year. Where they could have been eighty of you there was twenty or less.
There'd be even less in the stands you were sure as you looked at your dress. A simple black thing and ballet flats.
You slung on your green robe, looking in the cracked mirror stuck in the Wheelers basement.
Your entire family had fled in the earthquake when you were stuck in the upside down with Robin, Nancy and Steve, trying to make sure it didn't happen. They wrote to you, urging you to leave Hawkins but by then there was a lockdown in place and soldiers reading every letter in and out.
Lucky for you you had Mike to vouch for you, blowing up an air mattress in his basement and helping you move your things in with Lucas and Will's help.
"You really have to wear this thing," Mike complained as he pushed your graduation cap down on his head, eyes going crossed as he watched the tassel sway. "Woah-woah."
"Yes, I do," you snatched in from his head. "So please don't stretch it out with your fat head."
"Hey!"
You were lucky to have Mike as a friend, Lucas, Dustin and Will too. As well as everyone else. But it was Mike and Nancy that urged their mom to let you stay and Karen was obliged. So, even though it had been months, nearing a year, you still woke up early to make breakfast or help with the groceries as well as the crawls Nancy drilled you in on, and finishing high school and helping at the Squawk.
Graduation was supposed to be a time when you rejoice and think of all the free time to relax.
You only counted it as something to cross of your list.
"Hey!" Nancy called down, standing in the light from the kitchen. "There's a call for you!"
"Is it El?" Mike asked hopefully, practically jumping from his seat on the couch where he was no doubt creasing the suit his mom urged him to wear.
"Not you, doofus."
You were all too happy to shove him out the way and bounce up the stairs.
You grinned. "Thank you, Mrs Wheeler," you said and picked up the phone in the kitchen. "Hello?"
" Hey," said Steve down the other end.
You turned away from Karen so she wouldn't see your blush, your school girl like smile as Steve's voice bounced over the line. "Steve," you said as casual as possible, but he could probably hear the smile in your voice. "I've got the gown on, that black dress as well that I wore for my eighteenth, you know. What have you got on, the suit you wear to every job interview?"
There was a deep silence on the other end.
" Is everything okay?" you asked. The phone creaked under your tight grasp. Oh god, what if something had happened? If Vecna had decided today was the day to make his next move.
" Yeah, um, I just- I can't make it. To graduation."
There phone creaked again.
Your heart sank.
"Oh."
" I'm sorry, Robin's got a food bug or something-" there was noise down the other end, some sort of grumbling and under it all a female voice. " I've got to cover at the Squawk, you know."
"Yeah," you said, your voice un-naturally high, the kind of squeak one got when trying not to cry. You cleared your throat. "Yeah, no, I get it."
He huffed out a chuckle. " Yeah, I knew you would. Okay, well I got to go. I'll see you tomorrow, good luck! Don't trip!"
The phone was quickly put down on his end.
You listened to the ringing for so long it played in your head even when you put it down.
"That your parents?" Karen asked from behind you.
"Yeah," there it was, that crack again. "Yeah, they just wished me luck and, you know, wished they could've been here."
Karen cooed and then left you to it, a squeeze to your shoulder as she went to no doubt fetch Ted.
You supposed you shouldn't have been surprised that Steve cancelled to spend a morning with a date instead, after all, Steve would always pick a girl, or just about anyone over you. It had been that way for years.
And the worst part is he must have known how you felt.
You didn't look at everyone the way you did him, your eyes didn't soften to anyone else. Jesus- since you were fourteen and had first met Steve in Dustin's backyard, the both of you called to catch Dart you had been infatuated.
You offered to clean his car after you had driven it through fields.
You ate more ice cream than you ever had in your life the summer he worked at scoops ahoy.
Got dragged into the Russian plot because you wanted to help Steve translate Russian- not Dustin.
You got a part time job at Family Video just to be around him.
And Steve had always treated you like he did anyone else. He protected you like he did any of the kids, he laughed with you like he did Robin. Then sometimes- he looked at you like you'd once seen him look at Nancy. His hugs lingered like they didn't with Max and his arm was slung over your shoulder more times than not.
It was only as age and the idea of a future outside of Hawkins crept up on you that things changed.
That Steve changed.
He hung up the phone like it was on fire and banged his head on the wall next to it.
"You are an idiot," said Robin from where she lounged on his sofa. "Idiot, capitol I. A fool."
"Thank you for that!"
Steve knew he was a fool, maybe. Maybe he wasn't. A part of him really thought he was doing what was right.
Or he had thought so before he heard that squeak in your voice, the one that came before you would cry.
He'd only heard it once before, when you'd showed up on his doorstep, the realisation that your family was gone and you would be alone for however long the lockdown lasted. He'd wrapped an arm around you, leading you in and listened as you talked and tried not to cry.
It had broken his heart and when the tears started sown your cheeks he pulled you into his chest and hid his own tears in your hair.
It was wrong but that was when he realised, with a crashing weight, that he loved you.
Not the way he loved Robin, not the sort of way he loved Dustin. Almost in the way he loved Nancy, that all-consuming ache for her that seemed worse with you.
He couldn't go a day without seeing you, half the time he didn't need to. With all the time everyone spent together it was easy to claim the seat next to you, to have a casual arm over the back of the couch.
But it wasn't right.
The small rational part of him knew you were still young, maybe not quite a kid, but you weren't an adult that had to worry about groceries being brought and used up before going out of date- like he did. You had summer jobs but didn't have to worry about saving up for a car or a home.
You had a future ahead of you. You bright, brighter than him and your future was looking better than his was.
Steve was settled to never leave Hawkins and find you in every shop window, on every bench and in every memory.
Robin shifted on the couch, pulling a cushion into her lap as Steve turned, resting his back on the wall to keep him on his feet. "Tell me again why you made up some lie and inevitably break your own heart as well as hers."
Steve thought about it and knew the words would sound as stupid out loud as they did in his head. "Because..." he settled on that word, hoping Robin would drop it.
"Because...."
He flopped down on the sofa next to her, hunched over and hiding his face in his hands.
There was nothing he could say to explain himself.
Maybe Robin had opened up to him with her deepest, greatest secret but Steve's felt wrong. It wasn't wrong, he told himself, you were an adult, you were graduating high school.
But he'd seen you grow into your features, seen your smarts get you far, seen your smile go from radiant to beautiful, seen you hopes and reams become a reality.
He'd seen your small smiles and duck of the head at him become bashful blushes and lingering looks.
He'd admitted to himself what that meant, but what would others think? That it wasn't right, that he would end up holding you back from the future you'd always wanted?
The couch dipped under him and he felt Robins leg against his.
She didn't push, didn't try to pry his hands from his face. She only wrapped an arm around his back and held him as his breaths became shaky.
He'd promised he'd be there, to watch you take the stage and take the first step into the rest of your life and he feared Robin was right.
In breaking your heart Steve had broken his own.
Steve was at home, feeling sorry for himself when the phone rang- it was going on midnight. He knew it was you before he picked up the phone, anticipating your voice trying to be happy as you re-called your day. You'd no doubt linger toward the end waiting for him to tell the real reason he did not go to your graduation.
"y/n?" he asked as he picked it up.
What Steve didn't account for was the loud music down the other end.
" Steve!"
"y/n?"
" It's me," you all but sang down the phone.
Steve didn't like the exaggeration of your words or the boom of some Wham song down the other end of the phone. "What's going on? Are you- are at a party?"
You scoffed down the other end. " Relax, dad."
"Are you drunk?"
" Why didn't you come today?"
Steve sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He thought you'd shuffle around the question, that it would be awkward until he could use his charm as a weapon and distract the pair of you from the tension lingering the last year. Instead you'd got yourself to a party, had one too many maybe and had dialled his number. "You're drunk."
" Yeah, now, but I wasn't this morning and you didn't come," you said. " You didn't come."
Steve squeezed his eyes shut and held a hand to his chest, clutching at the sweater he was wearing. He was trying to shield his heart. "I told you, Robin wasn't-"
" -well, yeah, I got that, but you didn't have to lie to me just to spend time with your date."
"W-what?" his heart stuttered.
There was a crash next to you on the phone and some sound of a jostle. " I heard her. Over the phone. You could've just said you wanted some morning sex with the woman instead of lying to me."
"No, no y/n it wasn't like that I-"
" Shit!"
Steve panicked at the sound of crashes and yells from the other end. He heard some cheers after that. He knew what house parties were like, the trouble, the breaking of precious things, the drinks, the make-outs, the.... the sex.
Steve couldn't bare bringing you down if he was going to pursue this thing he knew he shouldn't, but he hated the thought of anyone else having you even more.
"Hey, what's going on? Are you okay?"
" No-"
"What's happened? What are you-"
" - you hurt me, Steve. Like really hurt me, more than any boy ever has!"
Steve knew that. He didn't need to ask to know he hurt you. "I know that, but are you okay now?"
" No, you still hurt me."
There was a heavy silence from him and a silence that was only interrupted by the music from you.
" I should go, I don't even know why I called."
"No, no, no, hey, wait, I'll pick you up we can-" but the phone was already down and he was talking to the ringing, the dreaded tone echoing around his empty head.
He'd hurt you. He hurt you.
He knew you wouldn't be happy he had to miss graduation but the confirmation in your voice and the way you called.
God, what was he doing.
Steve dialled another number on the phone, a number he was all too familiar with. "Nance? Hey- yeah everything's fine. I mean, not really. Can you put your brother on the phone?"
The walls rattled with the bounce of the music, every room hotter than the last.
You'd thought with how little there were to graduate in your year that the party would've been slim, a few people dotted around, beer, a terrible round of spin the bottle. Not a house packed, overflowing almost.
Everyone who had walked the stage with you earlier were there, drinking away anxieties, as well as others from years before that were unfortunate enough to still be left in Hawkins.
Faces blurred together as the vodka made your movements stutter and memory terrible. You had a feeling you'd been on the phone, probably to Steve but you had no idea how the phone call ended and any thought of Steve pushed you back into the kitchen, downing another drink.
Glasses were smashed on the floor, one had even smashed close to you, getting your ankle that now bled a small trail of red.
It wasn't the worst you'd got. The upside had you worse.
"Hey," said a guy you'd never spoken to, a year of two older. He had one of the Hawkins High bomber jackets on, all green and yellow. His eyes wracked up and down as he slid on the counter next to you. "You are lookin' sexy tonight."
You rolled your eyes, not drunk enough to give yourself up to his advances. "Not interested."
"Ouch."
You poured a glug of vodka into your plastic cup, searching around for a mixer.
The jock chucked a carton between his hands. "Cranberry?"
At your nod he poured enough in that it wouldn't dull the taste of the vodka.
"I'm Brad," he introduced.
You laughed, a smile that was the most genuine one you'd given of the day breaking on your cheeks. "Of course it is. Brad. Every asshole is called Brad. Or Steve."
It was like a drinking game you played with yourself. Every mention or thought of Steve had you taking a gulp.
"Well, listen," Brad went on, ignoring her. "If you find yourself in the mood, I'm next up in the master bedroom." He winked.
Your eyes rolled, scanning the room for a way out-
When suddenly you spotted Steve, standing out from the crowd. Not because he was too old to be there, there were many older than him grinding up against each other. But because he looked around frantic, his hair a mess, dishevelled even. His eyes were wide not with alcohol but worry. You'd seen it every time you were dragged into the upside down, or when the drugs from the Russians had worn off and he realised your lip was split, cheek bruised from their beatings.
Like always, he found you easily, eyes finding yours half way across the expanse of the kitchen.
Steve made his way toward you.
You didn't give yourself time to think. You grabbed Brad's wrists and dragged him away, around the island, barging past people and trying to find.... anything. Another way out. A back door or a way upstairs so you could lock yourself and Brad away, make obscene moaning noises at the door whilst not even touching the guy.
"Hey! Wait! Y/n, stop!" Steve was calling, the voices of protest following behind him.
You dragged a laughing Brad, the sound of a buckle being un-done. Was he seriously un-buckling his belt already?
Suddenly an arm wedged itself between the two of you just as you got on the first step.
"Hey, stop!" Steve practically pulled Brad away from you, voice firm with no room for arguments. But when he looked at you his eyebrows pulled together, voice dropping low. "Stop."
Any other time the puppy dog eyes would have you softening but with the fuel of the morning and the vodka cranberry it only fuelled your anger.
"Get lost, Steve."
"No," he said.
"Get lost, man," said Brad. "We're kinda into something here."
Steve looked him up and down but without the predatory gaze Brad had given to you. More with loathing. "You're not getting into anything and you-" he looked back at you. "You're drunk, c'mon, let's go home."
"No."
His brows rose. "No?"
"Yeah. No."
Brad smirked. "She said no man."
"Brad-"
"Can you leave-" the both of you and Steve said, snapping at the guy.
Brad tutted. "You know what, there's so much easier pussy to get tonight. You can have her man."
Your jaw was left agape. Not because you were offended, just because you didn't want to be left with Steve. Left without a way out.
Steve was focused on you, an arm trying to stir you away from the stairs. "Y/n, c'mon."
"I'm not drunk!" you snapped, taking the step down and throwing your hands into his chest, using all your weight to push him back.
The only result it had was him rocking on his heels. You were tipsy yes, maybe borderline drunk because every thought came with less time to think before you were saying it.
You tried to push him again.
Steve caught your hands and entwined your fingers.
It took you off guard for a minute, the warmth of Steve's hand encompassing yours. Then he was pulling and you were being dragged through the house until the cool air hit you.
His Beamer was parked up on the street, glowing.
"Steve, get off me!"
He didn't say anything, only dragging you across the lawn.
"I'm serious!"
You got your hand free and stood there.
Steve opened the passenger door, holding it open for you. He looked back to you, eyes darker as they peeked out from his hair that fell over his eyes. "Get in the car."
"No!"
His voice dropped even softer, like he was talking to a child. "Please. Please, just get in the car. Let me take you home."
Maybe that was all he saw you as, a kid.
You turned on your heel and started the walk down the street, wrapping your arms around yourself.
The door slammed shut and Steve was overwhelming you again. His scent, the jacket he wore, his trainers on the ground and keys jangling as he pocketed them.
He leapt in front of you, stumbling back as you continued on, trying to ignore the pull he had on you.
It was cruel, really. If he knew the effect and continued to abuse it anyhow.
"I know, I know you're mad at me, okay? I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
"Why didn't you just tell me?"
"Tell you what? Tell you what?"
"That you wanted to be at home with a girl," you said, looking at him and pausing when you were far enough from the house party for the music to be a dull thud in the air. "Be with your date instead of coming to graduation, I- I would've understood."
Steve's face fell. "No, no," he said, shaking his head enough for his hair to mess up further. "I- It wasn't like that."
"Well, Robin wasn't ill and I heard a girl in the background," you chuckled dryly. Everything blurred around you, the street lights becoming a haze of gold as tears swam in your eyes. "I just... I don't get why you wouldn't want to be there. Did I- was I forcing you to go?"
"No, no," he said, like his heart was breaking.
"Then, Steve, I don't get it!"
"I couldn't do it!" he admitted, hands clutching your forearms, eyes wide as if he was worried you would leave him on the side of the street. "I couldn't do it. I- I couldn't see you leave."
You hesitated. Had the drink got to you or did you just not understand? Nobody could leave Hawkins. Sure- you would leave the stage but you would've only gone to sit back down in the stands.
"You graduate, you go to collage, you get a degree, you get an amazing job in some firm that won't realise how lucky they are to have you. You'll tell stories about your hometown, how you never went back, maybe for a thanksgiving, a Christmas every now and then and you'll-" Steve chuckled to himself, low and dry as his head tucked into his chest. A hand ran through his hair. "And you'll meet this guy who has the same suit in five different colours and reserves Saturday night for date night and he'll.... he'll love you."
His voice broke at the word love, something that seemed so sparse as of late but never had you felt more loved than when you thought of Steve.
You shook your head in attempts to clear it. "Steve, Hawkins is in lockdown."
His gaze flickered up to yours. "You know what I mean," he uttered. "I can't watch you leave, but I can't stop you from going."
It was almost all the words you wanted to hear. In a different order than you'd thought. "Why?"
His laugh was real as his eyes sparkled. "Because it's you."
If it had come from any other guy you would've thought it was cheap, an easy way to get out of things but Steve's eyes dazzled when he looked at you, his entire body leaning with yours.
Your hand wrapped around the back of his neck and brought him into you before reason could have a say.
They were soft but sore, like he'd been biting and picking at the bottom of his lip. They were unsure how to react, as was the rest of him. His body curling into yours, his arm a ghost around your waist without settling there. His hand hovered-
Only when you'd got comfortable did he pull away.
His cheeks were flushed, lips parted as his eyes lazily dragged up to your eyes. He cocked his head, tongue running along the bottom of his lip like it was an invitation for more.
"You- you can't-"
You scoffed a laugh. "Is this the part where you tell me I'm a fool? That all these signals are mixed? Cause that's mean, Steve."
"No, no," he said, panicked clearly in losing you or having your hatred.
"You're being mean-"
Steve cringed, eyes squeezing shut. His head hung low and his jaw clenched. He was silent.
You dared reach up for more but Steve jerked away.
"You're drunk-"
"I'm not that drunk-"
Steve took your hands, clamping them in his and holding them to his chest. You could feel the race of his heart. "Don't."
It was one word but enough to sober you.
What were you doing? Throwing yourself at Steve? He already thought you were kid-ish and with this he'd see you as a damn right child, no better than Mike or Dustin, maybe even worse.
Was there anything you could do for Steve to see you as more? As something that could be his?
"Steve, I'm sorry."
His smile was saddening but his eyes wide with something like adoration as he gazed at you. "Don't be. Just... don't make that mistake again."
A mistake? Was that what he saw himself as? A mistake?
"You're not a mistake, Steve." And you meant it. You knew that without parents around, a true family it was hard to believe anything different. That everyone had not left because of you. But did he not see how the kids needed him, how you did.
He laughed, more deprecated on himself. "You're just a kid, you don't know."
You're just a kid.
A kid.
Who knew fears could be voiced in four short words.
In four words the drink settled like acid in your stomach and your palms clammed up.
You pulled your hands back, turning your back on him.
He liked you in this dress, he'd said as much when you turned eighteen- the adult official recognised age. It was all at once the worst thing you could've worn.
"Take me home, Steve," you said. If you tried to walk away he'd no doubt chase you down again. Then he'd say things you thought you wanted to hear, you'd throw yourself at him again and then every shard of your heart would be broken and one thing you could agree on... you were too young for that.
"Y/n-"
"You said you wanted to take me home so take me back to the Wheelers. Please!"
A car ride while crying in the passenger seat didn't excite you but neither did the reptition.
When you heard the keys jingle you walked to the car, steering yourself ahead to avoid his arm on your back or the careful watch of his eyes.
You pulled the door open as his hand reached for the handle.
You slid into the seat that was practically always reserved for you and looked at the window at the house party.
Steve slid into the drivers seat, closing the door gently behind him, sliding the keys in the ignition. "Just-"
"Don't worry, if I feel sick I'll throw up out the window."
Steve was quiet as he started the engine. "Your seatbelt," he said instead of chastising.
"Sorry," you said, not sorry at all as you reached for the belt, pulling it over your chest. "Guess I'm too young to know better."
The rest of the drive was in silence, a heavy weight on your chest and in your stomach. Just you. You felt like a weight, like the day that was meant to be the greatest was the worst, like you lost half your life and hopes and beliefs in a night.
When his car stopped outside the Wheelers he tried to speak, tried to reach out but you were un-doing the seatbelt and walking up the drive before the engine even cut off.
People always said it was better to have half of something or someone then not have them at all.
You disagreed.
But you'd rather not have Steve at all then only keep him as a friend.
At that moment, you didn't think you were even that.
It was only when you'd stepped inside the Wheelers, leaning on the closed door that you heard Steve's car slowly pull away.
You dragged yourself in, wiping away the tears that dared silently fall.
You slipped into the kitchen, Mike raiding the fridge.
"You're back before one then the party was lame- hey," Mike cut himself off when he saw you, his voice taking an un-characteristically tender tone. "What's wrong?"
The tears came silent and you tried to turn away, hide.
But Mike was there quick, getting you to turn to him.
You kept your head low and let your body feel as heavy as it was.
Mikes arm wrapped around you as you hugged him, falling into his chest. It was awkward, he wasn't too sure how to be there but he was, a soothing sound, a warm arm.
Steve would've known the way to hold you, the words to say.
But you couldn't run to him when the tears were his.
Ignoring Steve was harder than you thought. It was only when you were actively trying to avoid him that you understood how much of your life was him.
The sofa that was yours in the Squawk had been vacant for a week, the spot you usually laid upon on the days you had nothing else better to do growing cold in your absence. Instead, you'd made Mike's basement your sanctuary, a pile of collage pamphlets next to your blow up mattress.
Yale. NYU. Harvard. Anywhere.
The idea of staying in Hawkins sickened you. The idea of having to see Steve with a new girl on his arm while he'd continue to 'babysit' you, ruffle your hair was enough to have you making a plan to sneak out in the night.
'Hey this is your old buddy Harrington, that is Steve Harrington.'
You thought you were going crazy when you heard his voice, though staticky and hardly there. Then you looked toward the radio on the other end of the mattress.
'Sorry Robi- I mean Rockin Robin couldn't make it this morning so you're stuck with me-' there was a sound effect of some applause followed by a fart. 'Oh shoot- er-'
Another odd sound played that had Steve curse under his breath before shutting it off all together.
'Sorry folks, I'm er, i'm on my own today. Not really used to that, um-'
You grasped the radio and thought about chucking it at the wall but it wasn't yours and you didn't fancy explaining to Mrs Wheeler why the radio was in bits.
But you also couldn't bring yourself to turn it off. You'd forgotten his voice but it sounded different, not as uplifted, far more down and dark. Like he wasn't even trying for the radio.
'But don't worry I'm under strict instructions to play only the best. But this first one, it's... it's for someone special. I hope she's listening.'
You imagined all the girls lying on their beds, feet kicked up in the air, twirling their hair and listening his voice, waiting for them to play the song that could be for any girl. Maybe he'd had a few great dates and was going to ask her to be his girlfriend over radio. What a romantic gesture-
'Please be listening.'
The soft melody of The Carpenters sounded through.
Why do birds, suddenly appear. Every time, you are near,
Just like me, they long to be,
Close to you.
It must have been a coincidence. Another girl in Hawkins must have loved the Carpenters like you.
But had any other girl in Hawkins been stood up by their date at Prom, left in a red dress and a corsage you had to buy yourself to match. You remembered it, sitting on the stands and waiting for it all to be over, there was another party that girls were going to that you didn't even want to go to but you'd promised.
You wanted to go home, leave the humiliation.
"Hey."
"Steve?"
He stood in front of you, a red sweater and jeans, trainers, hair a mess.
"What are you doing here?" you looked around, girls already staring, looking Steve up and down like he was a piece of meat.
"I was picking up Robin but, seems she's already left. Thought I'd- well I- I wanted to see you," he smiled, the charming sort.
You couldn't think of anything worse then him seeing you, mascara wearing off, corsage drooped. You chuckled, slumping. "Now you've seen me."
"Hey," Steve slid onto the bench beneath you. He stretched his leg long and put his arm up next to you. "Why aren't you out on the floor? Where's your stupid date? What was his name again, Matty?"
"Matthew."
"Right, right."
Steve hadn't really been thrilled when you came in, a bouquet of flowers cradled and a date to prom. He claimed he knew Matthew's older brother and he wasn't much of a looker or a thinker.
Matthew had the looks and he clearly had the brains to concoct this plan of dumping you.
"He um, he didn't show," you said as casual as possible.
Steve's head snapped to yours. "What?"
You shrugged. "It's no bigee."
Steve was still staring at you, furrowed in his brows, jaw clenched. He looked away, tongue poking in his cheek as he laughed dryly. "No bigee- god-"
"Well you don't have to sound so annoyed-"
Steve grasped your hand and pulled you up. You stumbled on your heels as he dragged you down the stand and onto the dancefloor. There was decorations, slightly tacky in taste hanging from the ceiling. There was only a few people still dancing, others making out in corners. "We're not having your prom be a dud cause that moron didn't show."
"Steve, you don't have to," you said.
And Steve smiled at you, that winning smile as 'They long to be (close to you)' started playing. His arm went around your waist like it always belonged there, his hand large and sprawled on your back.
He looked at you like every girl wished to be looked at. "Look, we're even matching."
Your red dress. His red sweater.
His other hand took yours, holding it close to him as he gently swayed the both of you.
You blushed at the closeness, at the fact you finally could catch the cologne that was all his.
People looked, wondering what the once king of Hawkins high was doing back and dancing.
"People are staring at you," you uttered, tilting your head back to look at him.
"No. No," he said with a chuckle. "They're staring at you."
"Why? Because I got stood up?"
Steve shook his head. "Because you look beautiful."
You switched the radio off as the memory brought unwanted tears to your eyes. You'd held back from crying over him. You'd once promised yourself you wouldn't cry over a boy and you were in no mood to start.
You'd only just hidden yourself under the blankets and covers when they were yanked back off you.
Nancy loomed over you. "Crawl."
You rolled away from her.
"Crawl!"
"Go without me."
"You man the satellite."
"Get Dustin to."
"We need Dustin on look out."
You often alternated between checking the signal in the van with Steve and on look out. You figured whatever zone was being checked tonight needed Dustin on look out more than you. Any other time, you'd be have been thrilled. Hours un interrupted with Steve, snacking and talking was great.
Now, you'd rather be in the upside down.
"Hey," you sat yourself up, alight with the idea. "Why don't I go down too?"
Nancy looked at you like you'd grown a second head. "What?"
"We'd cover twice as much ground if we do more than one zone a night."
"Okay, first of all," said Nancy in that authoritative sister tone she'd started taking with you as well as Mike. "It's too dangerous and second we don't have the equipment for another van to track you."
"I wouldn't need tracking."
"Yes, you would. You have thirty seconds to get ready before I drag you out- thirty seconds!"
You spent ten seconds groaning before rushing upstairs and jumping in the car with Mike and Nancy.
"Steve! Steve! Steve!"
"Yeah!"
"Are you listening?"
"Oh yeah- yeah- totally."
Robin rolled his eyes.
He had not been listening and of course Nancy would notice.
He was teetering back on a chair, feet kicked up on the table and a pencil between his teeth, flecks of wood in his mouth as he bit down on it, watching you sit on the stairs and watch the boards. No doubt you were there cause it was furthest from him and the easiest escape.
The crawl couldn't have been a better time. What with you avoiding him and all.
Steve had called every day, three times a day in hopes of hearing your voice on the other line, even if it was a 'screw you.' But every time he got Ted or Holly, sometimes even Nancy. It was like you knew it would be him and didn't answer it.
He'd even got Robin to call once, asking for you. He heard your voice for a second before he snatched the phone, breathing out a shaky 'hey' and then the phone was put down.
Like a god damn stalker he'd drive by the Wheelers, never daring to enter as Mike had given him a telling to 'stay away from you' and 'stop breaking his sisters hearts.' But he just wanted to know you were there. Safe.
The song on the radio had been a last ditch attempt then the Crawl begun and now Steve watched, waiting eagerly to be told to go like he was waiting for class to be called.
"So you know what you're doing?"
"Yeah, Nance, I got it. Y/n catches the signal, we follow Hopper on this side-"
"-slowly-"
"Yeah, slowly and wait for him to get back. We've done it like a dozen times."
"Alright, well, if everyone knows there parts-"
Steve stood up so fast the chair fell back but you were already running up the stairs. "Hey! Wait up!"
You blew through the doors, heading to the van but he had the keys. You waited at the door, without turning back to him.
Steve took a moment behind you, brushing a hand through his hair and checking his breath. He pulled his jacket tighter around him and shook all anxiety off him. "You know you can't run from me in the van, you know?" it had supposed to be a joke but you only passed him a small look.
No glare, no smile either.
"I can try," you mumbled.
Steve un-locked the van and got into the drivers seat. "Woah, cold in here, huh?"
You only folded your arms over your chest and looked ahead.
"You, er- you want my jacket?" He was already ready to peel it away from him.
"Just drive Steve."
So he did, he followed the route marked on the van, where he'd begin the drive and where Hopper would begin, then you'd have plenty of time to try for a signal and then you could begin.
Steve killed the engine on the side of the street, tapping along the steering wheel. He counted five seconds and looked toward you but you were looking out the window into the darkness. He focused ahead then counted another five seconds and checked again.
It was about five rounds of that before you spoke.
"Can you stop that-"
"I just have to ask," said Steve at once at the sound of your voice. "What did I do?"
"What did you do?" you asked, turning to him with bewliderment.
"Er, yeah."
"What did you do?"
"Yes!" he snapped. "Okay I picked you up from a party, drunk-"
"-I wasn't drunk-"
"-after you called me, by the way, you try to kiss me, I pull away-"
"- I'm sorry-"
"-and now you hate me?"
"I'm sorry, alright," you snapped, louder over his voice. "I'm sorry for kissing you, it was stupid!"
Steve hadn't thought it was stupid. God knows how long he'd wanted to kiss you, bite your own bottom lip with his teeth and hold you the way every other guy you tried to date failed to do. He just knew that if you kissed him and told him you loved him he'd be a man on his knees, weak.
Heck, everyone knew he was weak enough around you.
He pushed away his own feelings and thought about you far away from Hawkins, happy and alive. "Yeah, yeah it was stupid," he said, dull.
You sighed. "I'm angry... I'm angry because you called me a kid. You talked about me having this great future, moving, collage, meeting a guy then called me a kid? Kids don't do that."
"I didn't mean it like that-"
"I just wished you'd see me, Steve!"
He looked back at you, your knees pulled up in the seat, hands in your hair. You looked so defeated, just like he felt.
Steve moved around in his seat, facing you. "I see you, hey, I see you," he said, stretching his arm out and resting on the back of your seat. "I see you all the time. When you're not here, when you are. If a song you like plays you're here. If the sun is shining through the trees just the way you like, I think of you. When I find- I find a sweater missing I know you've got it and I like that feeling. Knowing that I'm with you as much as you're with me."
You laughed, a real amused laugh.
Steve, who was trying to lay as much of his heart out without frightening you, didn't think it was that funny. "What?" he asked un-sure. "What's so funny?"
Did he even really want to know?
You looked at him, eyes glassy from laughter or maybe something else. "I'm in love with you. You never see that."
In love with you.
Love.
His parents had stopped saying those words when he turned ten. A man didn't need love, he needed a sturdy body, a good social status, a good foundation.
He'd forgotten what it was like. The rush of the words. The look of love.
"It's- you shouldn't."
A stray tear fell from you as you pushed your feet back on the floor, un-doing your seatbelt. "You can tell me you don't love me, Steve, but you don't have to be so mean about it."
His arm darted out as you went to climb in the back. "I didn't say I don't."
I didn't say I don't.
It was, maybe, the closest you'd get to those three little words.
Steve's arm was stretched out, the door was locked and you were stuck in the van with him and your confession in the middle of you.
You fell back into your seat. "You-you love me?"
When you fell back into you seat Steve let his arm fall. He dragged his hands down his face like he was exhausted. You had noticed the dark circles under his eyes, as much as you tried not to.
He looked at you and gave the slightest of nods. "Yeah, I do."
You couldn't help the smile even though the tears fell down. "You love me."
"But you don't understand," his hands were large as they cupped your cheeks, brushing back tears. "There's a whole wide world out there."
You didn't think so. Sure there was a world but there didn't seem anything more important then home. "But I want this."
"You've never tried anything else."
"I know what you said. About collage and a job, a boyfriend-" you caught him wince. "And about leaving and never coming back but I don't want that."
"You don't know what you want-"
"I do! I do, you can't say that. I know what I want, I want you-"
"Why?" he asked, falling back in his chair and running a hand through his hair in frustration.
You stared at him, a slow realisation that he wasn't calling you a kid because he thought you were. He didn't believe you could know what you want because you chose him.
Steve stared hard at the steering wheel like it was his enemy. "I don't plan on leaving Hawkins, alright. I like it here, in spite of all the bullshit we've been through I like the town. I'll work any job I can, small, anything that comes my way just to save up enough money to get a small crappy place of my own. I'll probably eat stupid box meals cause- well, you know I'm a terrible cook."
"Yeah, you are," you agreed in a chuckle.
Steve laughed with you. "Why would you want that? You're so intelligent, beautiful, independent, kind, wonderful. You have a chance to have a future I could never have."
"If you don't want me all you have to do is say-"
You were pulled quickly into him, only registering what was happening when his lips were against yours.
Still as soft, not as chapped but they moved against your lips quickly, catching your every protest.
His tongue rushed into your mouth, tasing that want and knowing it was the truth.
You groaned into him as a hand fell on your thigh.
He pulled away, slower than he'd kissed you.
"I shouldn't have done that," he uttered.
"Yes, yes, you should have."
"No, every time I kiss you it gets harder to stop."
You wound your hand around the back of his neck. "I don't want you to stop."
You lifted yourself off the seat, his neck craning back as you kissed him deeper, getting him to take a sharp intake of breath as his hands fell to your hips, holding you steady, thumbs digging into your skin until you were branded in a bruise that belonged to him.
He shot forward in his seat and set you back down all the while kissing you. "But-"
"Stop with the ifs, and the buts," you mumbled against his lips.
"I can't," said Steve. He pulled away enough that you could see him and the pink in his cheeks and red to his lips. "I love you. I have for longer than I care to know, baby, but I don't want to be the one holding you back."
You deflated in your seat, slightly. "Steve, why can't you see how amazing you are?"
He blushed and looked down, hand still cradling your cheek and unconsciously brushing back your hair. "I just... I want you to have everything you want in life."
You studied him a moment. "All I want is you."
You kissed him slow, only applying enough pressure that he would know you're there but giving him enough time to pull away or push you from him. Your hands stayed safe on your persons and you kept your want at bay.
Steve's entire body curled closer, leaving just enough space to have control over himself.
You pulled back and caught his gaze down on your lips. "We're stuck in a shitty town that's falling apart with another dimension underneath. We could die tonight, we could die tomorrow. Why are we worrying about the future?"
Steve's eyes were wide in adoration as he stroked your cheek. "We're not gonna die tomorrow."
"You don't know," you spoke like it was a fact. It could have been. You'd made peace with the fact that death lingered like a friend ever since you discovered the Upside Down. Death didn't scare you anymore. "Hopper could find Vecna tonight and we could all fight to our deaths."
Steve shook his head, eyes on your lips. "I wouldn't let anything happen to you."
"I know you wouldn't."
Steve kissed you again, lips sweet and desperate as his hand spread across your cheek, thumb propped enough under your chin to tilt your neck back. "Because I love you."
"I love you."
He groaned into your mouth like the words were a promise of a key to heaven should all end in flames.
"We don't-" you spoke, or tried to, against his lips as Steve dared not part. Not that you ever really wanted him to. "We don't know how any of this will end. Why worry about what could happen? Why not just...just-"
You words were all mumbled in his lips, caught in the passion.
Steve's hands trailed down your back. "Why not just keep kissing you? Like I've been dying to." he asked.
You nodded with a smirk.
And so you did, you kissed until the world collapsed, until the skies crashed and even after, you kissed when Hawkins healed, when you left for collage. You kissed him upon every return and loved him every day, sometimes more. You loved him in marriage, in children and grandchildren.
OK. Let’s say that it’s declared a state of emergency and you are told not to be on the roads unless needed due to the weather.
Then your job decides to have inventory despite this. So you’re told that tomorrow at 7:30am (still state of emergency) you need to drive to the store to do inventory. Am I crazy for not wanting to risk my life in the snow for it. Like we got 15inches or so that I would need to shovel at 6:30 in the morning basically.
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