“ another regret – you just gonna let fear take that? ”

❝ on hiatus, babes 🫶🏼 ❞

[crappymixtape]

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❝ N A V I G A T I O N ❞ MASTERLIST ↭ TIKTOK ↭ GUIDELINES

❝ L A T E S T R E L E A S E S ❞

🥸 just my type; pt. I • bonus –> STEVE x YOU 18+ 🦇 under your skin x sweet desperation -> VAMPIRE!STEVE, VAMPIRE!READER 🎸 hot 100 -> ROCKSTAR!STEVE x YOU ☁️ dreams of you -> STEVE x YOU 💕 plus one -> STEVE x YOU 🔥 c'mon, baby, light my fire -> STEVE x YOU 18+ 🌘 because of you; pt. I • pt. II • pt. III • pt. VI • pt. V, epilogue -> STEVE x YOU 18+

❶ E X T R A S________ ABOUT ↭ PLAYLISTS ↭ FIC RECS ↭ KOFI ↭ TAROT

❷ W I P L I S T________ idk man, i'm tryna write a book 😩 ❸ W R I T E R R E C S________ there are so many incredible writers on here! i'll add more to this list, but for now this is who i read on the regular ♥️ ☀ @inkluvs ☀ @fiveraccoonsinatrenchcoat ☀ @carolmunson ☀ @abibliophobiaa ☀ @dukesmebby ☀ @finalgirleddiemunson ☀ @curseofaphrodite ☀ @softharrington ☀ @starrystevie ☀ @acourtofsnakes ☀ @theshireisburning-so-mordoritis ☀ @a-dealwith-god ☀ @keeryshousee ☀ @lofaewrites ☀ @wroteclassicaly ☀ @katyswrites ☀ @schoopsahoy ☀ @andvys ☀ @chestylarouxx ☀ @supernovafics ☀ @superblysubpar ☀ @sswwmmpptthhnngg ☀ @harrywavycurly ☀ @thyme-in-a-bubble ☀ @lovebugism ☀ @sailor-steve-blog ☀ @sattlersquarry ☀ @plainemmanem ☀ @skullrock ☀ @curiositydooropened ☀ @luveline ☀ @stvharrngton ☀ @loveshotzz ☀ @forever-rogue ☀ @forevermoreharrington ☀ @livingintheupsidedown ☀ @annab-nana ☀ @familyvideostevie ☀ @theemporium ☀ @1986harrington ☀ @lucasnclair ☀ @roanniom ☀ @upsidedownwithsteve ☀ @stevebabey ☀ @starryeyedstories ☀ @kimmyiewrites ☀ @softharrington ☀ @hollandweather ☀ @palmtreesx3 ☀ @stevesbabysittingservice ☀ @princessdave ☀ @sweetsweetjellybean ☀ @fettuccin-e ☀ @honeymunson ☀ @usedtobecooler ☀ @aloneinthehellfire ☀ @poguemunson ☀ @myobmaya ☀ @reputationmunson ☀ @sincerelyyoursg ☀ @harringtons-cupid ☀ @spinmewriteround

❹ T H E R U L E S________ 🚫 no hate speech, no -isms of any kind, and no harassment will be tolerated here – take part in any of it ( even once ) and you'll get blocked 💋 some of my content is 18+ ( marked as such ) so please be aware when reading 🔄  please reblog and / or comment on my work when you like it! it makes all the difference and helps me know what to write more of! 🤖 i do not consent for any of my work to be fed into AI or used for AI-generated work – all writing here on this page is my intellectual property and anyone stealing work will be pursued with legal action. 🎨 heart divider credit to @cafekitsune <333

[crappymixtape]

never leave you again

* been stuck in some awful writer's block – hoping this worked it out 😵‍💫 * when steve leaves you with nothing but a note and a scribbled out sorry you swore you’d never let him in again, swore to protect your heart, but one rainy night has you second-guessing everything – dialogue prompt from @luna-azzurra | (  3.3k, angst, lovers to enemies to lovers, yearning, steve x reader )

N E V E R L E A V E Y O U A G A I N 🎶 sometimes ( backwoods ), gigi perez

July in Indiana was synonymous with whiplash. One minute, the heat had the backs of your thighs stuck to the truck bench, and the next, it would dump an inch of rain in an hour.

Just like it was now.

Pouring absolute buckets of rain that came down in sheets, pelting the roof of the house so hard you could barely hear the TV.

“Why?” you groaned, letting your head loll back against the couch, sweat beading across your brow from the lack of AC.

A crack of lightning split the sky in two, the clap of thunder that followed making the windows shake in their frames, and the rain overhead fell even harder. You wished it would stop, wished the roads were dust instead of lakes so you could drive away the sharp ache between your ribs. It happened every year, but it never got easier, starting as a dull twinge and building to a crushing press by July 13th.

July 13th.

The day he left.

It had been three years since you found the note in your glovebox. Three years since Steve told you he needed a break. Told you it would be better, and that someday, when things were different, he’d find you again. Would come back and be everything you needed, and to your credit, you waited. Oh, how you waited.

Waited through your first year of college. Through the 'accident' at Starcourt. Through sleepless nights and tear-stained pillows, until Hawkins split into four...Steve still hadn’t come, and you broke.

there’s no easy way to say this, but i have to go. people are depending on me, on my friends, and i can’t take you with me. if you got hurt, i’d never forgive myself. once this is all over we can try again–god, i want to try again. i love you so much, please believe me. i’ll come back for you. i’ll always come back for you.

i love you,

steve

Another clap of thunder pulled you from drowning in memories, and you sucked in a gasp, sending your heart hammering in your chest. You blinked against another bright flash, and the tears that had welled up along your lashes rolled hotly down your cheeks.

“Dammit,” came out in a hiss as you wiped at your face with the palms of your hands.

Lightning lit up the living room again, CRACK! But this time, when it faded, it took the power with it. The TV crackled off in a blip, the constant low hum of the fridge ceased, and the warm glow from the corner lamp popped, turning the room inky black.

“Seriously?”

You huffed an unsteady laugh, shaking your head at your shit luck before shoving your face into the couch cushions to scream out a mix of curse words and nonsense. Why couldn’t it be different? You did your time, you thought, begged the universe to cut your heart a break, collected karma points like a kid desperate for gold stars, and tried to tell yourself you’d forget.

But how could you when he left without any real explanation? When he didn't trust you enough to tell you the truth, let you think it was your fault, and then didn't come back to prove you wrong.

Anger flickered at the pit of your stomach, licking and threatening to burn; the tears in your eyes turned bitter, and that’s when you heard it, knock, knock, knock. Almost too soft at first to be sure, but the second time, there was no doubt: knock, knock, knock.

You froze, half on, half off the couch, heart beating in your throat and eyes straining against the deep indigo shadows stretching across the room.

It came again, knock, knock, knock, heavy on the door, but this time, when you reached for the bat leaning against the wall, a voice broke the eerie silence.

“Hello? It’s, uh…it’s me–er–Steve. It’s Steve.”

The fear that had choked up around you loosened, giving way to anger, and when you yanked the door open, Steve jumped back.

“Shit–hey. Hi,” he fumbled, and you greeted him with a glare.

A devastating wave of relief and adoration threatened to swallow you the minute your eyes met his. Was he real? Was this happening? You struggled, fighting against the urge to fling your arms around him and never let go. Even in the dark, you could see the way he was looking at you: burnt caramel and sea glass, wide and blinking out from behind wet lashes, threatening to disarm you despite your wanting to slap him.

He must have walked to your apartment because he was drenched, not a bit of dry clothing on him. His light-wash jeans were stained dark, and his white tee stuck slick to his skin. His hair was matted and messy across his forehead, beads of water clinging at the ends and dripping down his temple. His eyes were glued to you, tension thick as he held his breath, and you thought for a second he’d be the first to break, but the heat swelling in your chest forced your hand.

"So,” you bit out, “You came back."

"Well…yeah,” Steve’s expression crumpled, “I said I would.”

Your face hardened, "You said a lot of things."

His frame shrank in your doorway, a growing puddle around his feet. “I–I’m sorry,” he offered pathetically.

“And?” you scoffed, “That doesn’t fix anything.”

“C’mon,” he breathed, taking a tiny step toward you, “Just give me a chance to explai–”

“A chance to explain?” The words burned on your tongue. “What, three years wasn’t long enough?”

His expression shifted, eyes flickering with a frustration of his own. “That’s not fair.”

You laughed then, a hollow-sounding thing as you gripped the door in your hand, ready to slam it in his face. “I don’t have time for this–”

"–name one thing I said that I didn't do,” he cut in, tone short just like you, as he wedged his foot in the door.

Your eyes locked onto each other, a silent challenge, and the look he gave you shifted the anger in your belly into something warmer and harder to hold onto. Something slippery, something dangerous, the closest thing to real you’d felt in three years.

You opened your mouth to protest, but nothing came out.

"You can’t, can you?" he said finally, but he didn't sound like he'd won anything. Lines pinched between his brows, and the corners of his eyes pulled down, sad. “Please,” came out softer, and for a split second, you saw the Steve you missed, the Steve you loved, the Steve you’d have given anything for if it meant you could have him back.

You swallowed down the lump in your throat.

“Please, what?” you choked out, your words like daggers, trying not to let the desperation in his eyes break you. “Please, don’t be mad? Please, don’t hate me? Please, put your entire life on hold again? If I’d held my breath for you, Steve, I’d be dead.”

You pushed at the door again, but his foot was still in the way.

“And you would’ve died if you’d come with me!” He shot back, chest heaving like he’d just run a marathon.

It hit you then just how much he’d changed, how much older he looked, how time and whatever he’d done had left their marks. A faint scar over his left eyebrow, a deeper one that wrapped angrily around his neck, and dark circles blooming under his eyes.

“I know I’m an asshole, just–” he reached through the gap and grabbed your hand, “–wait. Just wait.”

His palm pressed into yours, wide and warm, sending a jolt up your arm and straight to your heart, triggering a bright flash of memories…

Steve’s mouth on your neck, sucking pretty little lilac marks over your skin as it sang, I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours. His fingers tangled in your hair, tugging at it just right, the tiny pinch of pain blooming into a heady, delicious feeling as he traced the line of your throat with his tongue.

“Jesus–baby–we’re gonna get caught. Ohhhh my god–oh god–I love you. Have I told you that? Gonna fuckin’ ruin me, Princess–shit.”

Your hand in his pants, his back pressed against the hot brick exterior of the bar, hair a mess as he buried his face into your neck.

“So good for me, Stevie,” you whined, his teeth sharp over your shoulder, “Just for me.”

Steve’s hand squeezed at yours again, bringing you back, and you sucked in a gasp, heart racing and pupils blown wide.

“Go away, Steve,” you breathed.

“Wha–I can’t,” he stuttered, “I need you.”

You turned to go in, and when Steve followed, you didn’t stop him.

The squeak of his wet shoes on the entryway tile filled the silence and pulled it taut. Your heart flinging itself wildly against your chest, begging you to set it free, pleading with you, I love him, I love him, I love him.

“I needed you too, but you weren’t here,” came out cracked and broken, the carpet under your feet blurring with tears.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, “Please, look at me? I’m sorry, I’m sorry for everything.”

I’m sorry for everything.

You whipped around to look at him, fists clenched and nails biting half moons into your palms.

“What was so dangerous, huh? What couldn’t I handle?” you shot back, three years of anger and loss and hurt boiling over and spilling in the space between you. “I’m not some fragile thing you can keep locked away, Steve! What’d you think would happen? You didn’t call, didn’t write! You don’t think I didn’t worry too??” you challenged, swallowing the bitter taste on your tongue, softening. “I waited…for so long,” you struggled to get the words out, throat squeezing. Finally, you lifted your gaze to meet his. “I thought you were…”

Steve took the two steps to you in one, grabbing both your hands, desperate to touch any part of you, to tether himself to reality, a ground in a lightning storm.

“I should have–shit–” He huffed a thick laugh, swallowing down a swell of regret, “I almost did–so many times…”

You blinked, tears rolling over the apples of your cheeks, and Steve gently swept them away with the pad of his thumb.

“I’m sorry I didn’t trust you,” he whispered, “I’m sorry I put you through that, I’m sorry for making you wait, and I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

The warmth of his hand pressed to your cheek, his words a salve on your heart, and you couldn’t help leaning into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut.

“I can’t lose you again,” you confessed in the dark, eyes still closed, afraid of the way you knew he was looking at you. “You can’t leave again.”

“I won’t.”

You opened your eyes, didn’t shy away, wanted to make sure he heard you.

“Promise me.”

“I swear,” he murmured.

The corner of his mouth tugged up ever so slightly before falling. Rain from his hair bled into the tears streaming down his cheeks as he grabbed at the hem of his shirt. Wrestling with the soaked fabric, he slowly worked it over his head, revealing more scars. Deeper. Two, almost identical, pinched in at his hips and puckered over his freckled skin. Fear squeezed in your chest as you took a step forward, slowly ghosting your hand over one of the marks, and he sucked in a breath at your feather-light touch.

“Steve…are you–”

“M’okay, it’s okay.”

“What did this to you?”

Pushing a sigh through his nose, he hesitated, lost in thought for a moment, eyes flicking up to meet yours. “I didn’t think I’d come back,” he whispered, brows pinched together, hurting.

“I’m here,” you whispered back, “I’m right here.”

Sliding your hands up his chest, you wrapped your arms around his neck and tugged him down into you, kissing him like you were the only two people left on earth. It tasted like rain, spearmint toothpaste, and Steve. The familiar scent of his clean laundry and cedar clouding your senses as he swallowed your words and quieted your doubts. When you tilted your head and opened to him, he sighed his relief; finally, finally, finally.

Easing his hands over the curve of your ass, he gripped the backs of your thighs and hoisted you up around his waist, pressing you to his chest, the rain from his skin soaking through shirt.

“I missed you–” Steve gritted out, brows pulled together in agony, “–I love you–so fucking much.”

Locking your ankles at the small of his back, you held onto him for dear life, your body singing at every touch point, more, more, more. You wanted to drown in him, feel the crushing press of his body over yours, his mouth on your neck, his bruises on your hips.

“I love you, Steve Harrington,” you needlessly confessed against his lips, begging him not to stop, and it pulled a sound of desperation from him.

Crossing the living room, he carried you onto the couch and dropped to his knees between your legs, your shirt damp and rucked up around your ribs. That part of you you’d closed off, the part that held everything you felt for Steve, opened at the squeeze of his hands on your waist, his touch like kerosene on a fire, and you wanted to burn with it.

Breaths fell quickly between you as you watched the way his fingers pressed into the fat of your thighs, your eyes tracing the line of his arm up, up, up, and along the curve of his collarbone, the moles that dotted his throat, his jaw, his cheeks, the warm hazel of his eyes, and the flecks of green that swam there. Carefully, you reached up to tuck a lock of wet hair out of his face, and his lashes fluttered at your touch.

“I’ve imagined this moment every single day since you left…this doesn’t feel real,” you admitted quietly, scared, the fear of losing him again yawning a deep pit in your stomach.

“Hey, hey–it’s real,” he reassured you, taking your hand and placing it over his heart, “I’m real, this is real.”

Leaning into you, he pressed soft kisses to your forehead, your nose, your chin, the corner of your mouth. Your throat squeezed again, but you fought it and tangled your shaking fingers between his. Grabbing at the hem of your shirt together, you tugged, watching his Adam’s apple bob thick in his throat as he eased the damp fabric over your head. You shivered at the sudden exposure, goosebumps trailing over your skin, and he swore under his breath, the sight blowing his pupils wide; the hazy green of his irises swallowed up in black.

“Christ, honey,” Steve agonized, pained and aching as he let his head fall forward to rest against your chest. “Wanna memorize every inch of you,” he whispered, hands squeezing at your legs. “I’m a goddamn idiot, so stupid for leaving you,” he rambled, brushing his nose back and forth over your stomach. “I’ll never do it again, I promise. Promise. M’so sorry, gonna make it up to you–deserve the world, baby–”

And after all that time, the way he ran his mouth still wound you up perfectly, like a rubber band ready to snap.

“Steve,” you practically begged, and he lifted his head to look at you.

“Tell me, baby,” he murmured, taking hold of your hand and bringing it to his mouth. “Give you whatever you want,” he promised, sucking at the soft, sensitive skin on the inside of your wrist.

“You–want you,” was all you could manage, and he didn’t make you wait.

Sliding a hand into the curls at your neck, Steve pulled you into him, the gasp that left your lips now his to breathe as he swallowed it in a kiss. It was sweet: three years’ worth of I love you, I miss you, I need you. It was bitter: **a thousand I’m sorrys, a reminder of how badly the absence stung, a promise to make up for all the moments you’d missed.

Your hands fumbled with the button of his jeans, slick with rain, but you managed to pop it open for him, and he tugged them down his thighs, setting himself free. He was already hard, pressing against the inside of your leg when he slotted himself back between your knees, and you whimpered at the lack of friction.

“I know, I know, I know,” Steve whined, voice strained, pitched, and needy, “Gonna help you, honey.”

He dragged hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck and over the swell of your breasts, taking one in his hand and sucking at the peaked nipple. Slipping his other hand between your legs, a groan rumbled in his chest when he found how wet you were, and you keened at the press of his fingers, hips lifting from the couch in desperation.

“Baby,” he sympathized as you slid your hand down over his. “Wanna show me?”

“Mmhm,” you hummed, bottom lip pinched between your teeth, and Steve’s mouth dropped open.

“Gonna kill me–”

Taking his hand, you rubbed small, tight circles over your clit while he watched with undivided attention. “Just like that, huh?” he breathed, eyes flicking up to watch your brow pinch in pleasure. “How ‘bout this?” Moving on his own, you let go of his hand, and Steve increased the pressure before sliding his middle and ring finger into you.

“Steve–” came out as a choked gasp, your breaths broken and shaky as he fucked you with his fingers.

“What is it, baby?” he asked against the shell of your ear.

“Fuck–” you hissed between your teeth, “–feels s–so good.”

You tangled your hands in your hair, pulling and tugging at it, searching for that delicious bite of pain. Waiting for it to pool heavy between your legs as you met Steve’s thrusts with your own. Steady huh, huh, huh’s fell from your lips, and he couldn’t look away, even if he wanted to, even if the world were on fire; you were the only thing that existed in that moment.

Pretty eyes glazed over and shining, he was high on the fact that he was doing this to you; he was the one making you fall apart like this. Gaze fixed on the way you were taking him, Steve thought he’d never seen anything so perfect. So flawless. Hands tangled in your wild hair, long lashes fanning out over your cheeks, lips parted, and heart stuttering as your legs started to shake.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he praised, “Look at you, so fucking perfect.”

“M’so close–Steve–” you gasped, breath hitching when he dipped down and put his mouth on you, his nose bumping over your clit and fingers hitting that spot you could never reach on your own.

“Let go, baby,” he hummed against you, the low rumble of his voice vibrating heavy enough to snap the cord pulled tight in your belly.

You cried out his name, both a prayer and a plea, your thighs a delicious squeeze at his ears, and Steve swore he saw god. He worked you through it, let you ride out the waves slow, brought you down gently until your breaths evened and your legs turned boneless.

He took his hand away, and it pulled a gasp from you as he crawled up your body, resting his head on your chest. The steady thud, thud, thud of your heart in his ear brought tears to his eyes again, and he wrapped his arms around you, holding on like you were the only thing keeping him there.

“I love you,” he whispered, voice broken, “And I’ll never leave you again.”

Pressing your lips to his forehead, you lingered, wanting to stay like this until the end of time, your hands holding him tight to your chest, heart tattooing his name across your ribs, Steve, Steve, Steve.

“Then I’m yours, Steve Harrington, forever.”

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️'

[jamdoughnutmagician]

The Steve Harrington Summertime Spectacular - A writing exercise

Calling all Steve Harrington x reader writers!!!

Hi, it’s Claudia here, and I wanted to just put out this fun little story writing exercise (in a similar vein to The Boy Is Mine Writing Challenge that @carolmunson hosted a few years back) I just thought it would be a nice little bonding and sharing experience to get people excited, and engaging and reblogging fics once more!

Obviously we all love Steve in our own ways, and part of what I love about having all these different people who write for him is to see everyone’s fun and unique interpretations of his character, and ultimately that’s what fandom is all about, right? Having fun?

Below I will include a small list of prompts, props and dialogue which have to be included in your fics however you see fit. The props can be mentioned in passing, or they might hold a bigger significance in your story, it’s totally up to you! Your story can be as many words as you like, it can be sfw, or smutty (minors don’t even think about it) and it can be canon Steve or an AU, whatever you want, go for it! When you post it please make sure to tag me in your fic so I don’t miss it and I can add it to an up-coming masterlist!

To participate, please title your fics as '‘The Steve Harrington Summertime Spectacular (___ Edition)' *the blank space to be replaced with your name/or a pseudonym if you wish*

I’ll be running this from today and all the way through to the end of August, so there’s plenty of time for everyone to have the opportunity to join in if they want to.

I’m going to tag a number of Steve writers below to spread this as far as I can, but I hope you (yes, I’m talking to you 🫵) feel encouraged to join in too!

The Scene 

The Harrington back yard/pool OR Lover’s Lake

Props to include/or mention in passing.

Sun tan lotion, Watermelon, Flowers, Lemonade

Dialogue Prompts (can be changed slightly to fit, and can be placed anywhere, and in any order in your story)

“Are you checking me out?”

“Come on, you have to admit, it is a little funny.”

“You just can’t stay away from me, can you?”

@gracerockysavedstars @mrsjellymunson @rebelfell @loveshotzz @stevenose @hungharrington @stevesgother @wroteclassicaly @sidereustales @upsidedownwithemmy @thecreelhouse @rickgrimes-cupid @keeksandgigz @29bohemianmoons @muldermuse

[upsidedownwithemmy]

summer? steve? summer steve??? i think i’m defrosting—

[crappymixtape]

the late night shift

REQUEST → sweet nonny, 2000 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION ❝ location: work, theme: peril/danger??? but make it flirty perhaps 🤔 trying to keep it interesting for you 😌 • you and steve turn up to work at the squawk and find yourselves in danger, per usual, when someone decides to pay the station a visit during one of the crawls, throwing two desk mates into a very perilous situation ( 2.5K – co-worker!steve harrington x reader exchanging flirty banter while 1000% at risk of being taken prisoner by dr. kay and her goons )

T H E L A T E N I G H T S H I F T 🎵 we didn’t start the fire, billy joel

You watched a Billy Joel record spin circles on the player, the one Steve had begrudgingly handed you a couple of minutes ago when you suggested Rhythm Nation “again” to which he replied “absolutely not” in a particularly bratty tone. Tensions were already sky high, but on crawl nights, they rocketed into space.

“Listen, it’s not that I dislike Janet,” Steve reasoned, back turned to you while he dug through sound effect tapes, “I just don’t feel like it sets the right mood for–”

“–hunting an evil flesh monster?” you deadpanned.

Steve shot you a look.

“Well–yeah. Whatever. I guess,” he sighed, carding a hand through his already messy brown locks, tongue jammed in his cheek and telling you he was stressed.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” you tried to reassure him, half-kicking at the leg of the desk and sending your chair spinning in a slow circle. “Hopper’s been extra careful lately.”

Steve hummed low in response, hesitating at your words: extra careful.

Because of El. Because of Dr. Kay. Because of them.

Every single one of those gun-toting goons behind the barbed wire fence of the MAC-Z, frothing at the mouth to be the one to bring her in, to please the doctor.

“Steve?” you asked quieter this time, the bite in your tone fading with the way your friend was staring into space, the recently permanent pinch between his brows.

“What?” came out a gasp as he started, knocking his tapes to the floor, “–shit.”

Rolling your chair over, you leaned down to help pick them up and caught the worry swimming in the green-gold of his eyes. Unlike Steve, you were fairly new to this whole Upside Down, Vecna, Henry, 001 shit, and while the risks were pretty obvious, you hadn’t actually seen anything happen. Not like he had.

Hadn’t beaten a demogorgon with a nail bat, or been chased by demodogs around a junk yard, get drugged by Russians or choked out by flying monsters with fangs. Hadn’t watched your friends suffer like his had. Hadn’t lost someone.

Your fingers bumped into Steve’s as you reached for the last tape at the same time, and he pulled his hand back as if scared to get burned.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, shaking his head.

“S’okay.”

Picking up the tape, you held it out to him, and he took it quietly, setting it on the top of the stack before sinking down into his chair. He flicked at the records he’d put aside earlier for the queue and distractedly grabbed the one on top.

“Here, before that track finishes.”

You glanced down at the dust jacket and snorted.

“Gloria, huh?”

“Someone’s gotta have fun around here,” he grumbled, but you could hear a tinge of a smile at edge of his voice.

“Okay, party boy,” you teased as he swiveled away from you to hide the way he bit back a laugh. Flicking your mic on, you switched into radio mode, “And now, a pick from my co-host with impeccable taste–get on your feet, people, let’s dance!” Easing the volume down on Billy, you turned Gloria up and spun around to kick your toe into Steve’s sneaker.

“Hm?” he glanced up at you, catching your gaze, and you watched as his pupils dilated, their golden hue swallowed up in black.

“Well? Aren’t you gonna ask me to dance?” you asked simply, brow quirked, and the challenge lit him up.

“Oh,” he scoffed, unable to hide his boyish grin, “Since you asked so nicely.”

“I’m very nice.”

“Mmhm,” he hummed back skeptically, but stood and held out a hand for you.

You don’t remember when it happened, this thing between you and Steve, but it must have started like a small swirl of smoke. A flicker of fire, ember and coals fanned to life by him. The way he cared for his friends like family, how vulnerable he’d become, his dedication and loyalty and persistence to keep trying, keep going, no matter how shitty everything had become.

Steve’s dance moves, however, were something else altogether.

“Jesus–Steve–” you snorted, letting him twirl you around the studio.

“What?” he asked cheekily as he swung you effortlessly in and out before spinning you under his arm. He let you stretch just far enough away that your fingers started to untangle, but then pulled you back into him and your hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt to steady yourself.

“Oh,” you murmured, his breath fanning over your cheeks with the quick rise and fall of his chest.

“Yeah,” he breathed, swallowing thick, Adam’s apple bobbing under your gaze.

His fingers squeezed at the plush of your hips, hands wide and warm, and it sent your pulse fluttering at your neck.

“Steve?” came out shy, and he nodded dumbly.

“Uh huh?”

“Can I–”

FSSSSSST!

The walkie on your desk scratched loudly, before cutting out and scratching again.

“SQUAWK–COME IN SQUAWK–SHIT’S ABOUT TO GET REAL–”

Erica.

“Jesus Christ–” Steve hissed, scrambling over his chair to get to the walkie as you turned to the window, fingers flicking two of the blind slats open. “Come in?? Hello??” Steve shouted, but he was greeted with silence. “God dammit,” he swore, “Minas Tirith this is Squawk, over!”

“No,” you breathed, eyes glued to the lights coming up the road, “No, no, no, no, no.”

“What is it??” Steve’s voice pitched more and more desperate as he clumsily hopped over the booth to the window.

“We’ve got company.”

Moving over to let him see, his mouth dropped open the minute he realized.

“You gotta be kidding me–” he groaned, stumbling back to the walkie and hitting the call button. “Come in! Anyone??” he pleaded, shooting you a look, eyes wild, “What the hell did Dustin tell us to say??”

You grabbed the walkie, cheeks burning with nerd knowledge, “Gondor calls for aid!” But the proud look Steve gave you after set your heart stuttering in your chest.

BANG, BANG, BANG!

“YOU HAVE 60 SECONDS TO OPEN THIS DOOR BEFORE WE BLOW IT OFF THE HINGES!”

“Shit–we gotta go–” Steve grabbed your hand, yanking you through the studio to the supply room and the hidden staircase to the basement. Pushing and pulling, you both managed to yank the old, rickety shelf aside and slip behind it, metal scraping on the concrete as you hurried to put it back in place.

BOOM, CRASH!

“Was that the door–” Steve started, but you pressed your hand to his mouth, silencing him mid-sentence.

“Spread out–two to a room! Cuff and arrest anyone you find! They’re considered to be in direct violation of quarantine law!” a harsh voice barked.

You started to shake, hands trembling and knees quivering, and Steve glanced over at you, brows knitted in the middle. You met his gaze, and he quietly mimed breathing in and out, nodding at you, trying to reassure, It’s okay.

SLAM!

The door to the room smacked against the wall as a soldier kicked it open, and Steve instinctively pulled you into him, arms tight and holding you against his chest, the steady thud, thud, thud of his heart filling your ear.

Recklessly rummaging around the room, the soldier kicked at the filing cabinet with a grunt, knocking it on its side. “This place is a fucking dump,” he muttered to his partner, shining the light at the end of his gun up at the ceiling.

“Complete slobs,” the other man agreed, running a hand along the wall opposite the shelf hiding you from their prying eyes.

And then you felt it before it happened, a twinge at your shoulder, your chest squeezing in on itself, tiny prickles that turned into an almost painful shock of electricity down your arms. Your breath quickened, body shaking against Steve’s.

“CLEAR!” one of the soldiers shouted, and they left the room.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Steve whispered, voice a rasp from keeping quiet, “Talk to me.”

You swallowed thick, eyes closed against the panic attack still wrecking havoc through your nervous system.

“We’re safe, they’re gone, it’s okay,” Steve tried again, hands soothing gently up and down your arms, but your brain kept you stuck between fight or flight. “Listen, look at me,” he murmured, softly taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger, “Do this with me, hm?”

“Okay,” you stuttered.

“What are five things you can see?” he asked, nodding reassuringly.

“Um–” you swallowed again, tried to get a grip, but your hands were still shaking.

“Shh,” Steve whispered, “What do you see?”

Blinking back tears, you looked around you at the dark dingy stairwell, “Bricks.”

“Good,” Steve smiled, “What else?”

“Uh–light switch.”

“Mmhm.”

“Stairs, railing,” you listed off, feeling your heart cease slamming against your ribcage, your gaze drifting up to look at the boy – the man – with incredible patience. “You,” came out a whisper.

“Hi,” he teased gently, smile growing. “Okay, four things you can touch?”

“Touch,” you echoed, “The floor, my shoes…”

“Good, and?”

“Uh…your shirt,” you said, eyes flicking back up to meet his again, his fingers squeezing at yours. “Your hands.”

“Three things you hear?”

“Humvees,” you murmured, heart skipping in your chest at the thought of the soldiers again and Steve reached up to tuck the stray locks of hair out of your face. “Um–the record,” which was still playing out faintly in the other room, “And your voice.”

“Doin’ great,” he praised, and a flicker of a smile twitched at the corners of your lips. “Two things you smell?”

“Mildew,” you half-laughed at the must of the stairwell, then took in a breath and it caught on the faded scent of Steve’s cologne. “Your cologne,” you admitted, cheeks warming and Steve’s eyes crinkled at how big his smile was.

“Which is good, I hope?” he teased.

You chuckled, “Yes.”

“Last one,” he prompted, your hand still held in his, “One thing you can taste.”

Flicking your gaze up to look at him, you realized the attack had almost fully faded, now just a dull twinge at the edges of your mind. The tingling gone from your arms, pins and needles no longer stabbing at the insides of your limbs. The only thing left was your heart, but it wasn’t racing because you were worried. No. It was because of him. Steve. The way he’d just carried you through one of the worst attacks you’d ever had with empathy, care, concern.

He caught the way you were looking at him, eyes turned gooey around the edges, their usual bright hazel color warmed to caramel and liquid amber. It was his turn to grapple with nerves, a live wire under your gaze, as his thumb absentmindedly swept back and forth over your skin.

Pushing up on your toes, you slowly closed the gap between you, not that there was much of one to begin with, and he didn’t pull away. Chestnut locks fell into his eyes as he tilted his head, leaning into to the way you felt against him, his long brown lashes sweeping over the apples of his cheeks as they fluttered closed, and your lips finally met.

It was soft, curious, searching and easy. His fingers slipped behind your neck, threading between the baby hairs that curled there, and you gasped into him at the feeling of his touch. Warm and slow, cradling you gently and letting you lead. It was faded spearmint gum and aftershave, the sharp scent of the sweat that had gathered on his brow and your perfume. When you pulled away it ached, your heart pleading more, more, more as Steve sighed at the absence of you.

“I taste you,” you whispered, and he gave you a lopsided smile, a little shy and a lot pleased as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“Not how I pictured it…” he huffed through a laugh and your features pulled in confusion.

“Pictured what?”

“Our first kiss,” he admitted, heat blooming from his chest up to the tips of his ears.

“First kiss,” you echoed with a smile, “You were thinking about our first kiss?”

“Is that lame?” he asked, bashful, and you pushed up on your toes again to press a chaste kiss to the soft plush of his lips.

“No.”

“Was gonna try and take you somewhere nice–well–as nice as we could get in a military quarantine,” he joked and it pulled a laugh from you. “Wanted to make you dinner or something. Honestly, anything would’ve been better than hiding in some weird smelly hallway.”

You laughed again, a bright sound Steve wished he could bottle up and keep, and it made him grin.

“Steve! Holy shit–Steve!”

Both of you jumped at the sound of Dustin screeching in the other room.

“Shit, shit, shit–did they get taken??” the boy panicked.

“Calm down, Henderson,” Hopper growled, “Did you check the passageway?”

“Dammit–Steve??”

The sound of Dustin’s sneakers on the floor clambered into the room and the shelf rattled, dumping empty paint cans to the ground as the boy yanked it aside to reveal the two of you, Steve still holding you tight to his chest.

“Oh, thank God you’re okay!” Dustin sighed, throwing his arms around you both in relief.

“Think they’re more than okay,” Hopper frowned and Steve let his hands fall away from you, pressing himself as far away as he could in the small space.

“Yeah, yep! We’re–uh–we’re totally fine,” Steve fumbled.

The older man rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath. “Lucky us,” he grumbled, then louder, “Let’s get this place cleaned up! It’s a damn mess.”

“Why didn’t you walkie??” Dustin shoved at Steve, earning him a frown.

“We did!” Steve insisted, “We even said your stupid code about Gordon or whatever.”

“–Gondor,” you corrected and Steve’s expression flattened while Dustin gave you a giant toothy grin.

“You remembered!”

“A little hustle, huh?” Hopper shouted from the other room, “You’ll have plenty of time to nerd out later–get moving.”

Following Steve back out into the room, you grabbed at one of his hand’s, the want to keep touching like fire under your skin, and Dustin waggled his brows at you.

“Smoochin’ in the stairwell,” he grinned, “Nice.”

“Shut up, Henderson,” Steve chirped.

“About time,” Dustin countered, loud enough only you heard, and it made you heart soar.

“Yeah, about time.”

[crappymixtape]

alsoooooo

🎥 in the upside down, enemies to lovers pls? (If you’re feeling it, no pressure of course) 💖

booooothang, i'm writing your ask right now and HOOOOBOY it's a doozy. i hope you love it 😏 gonna post here in a couple of hours, MUAHAHHAHA

[crappymixtape]

holy shit, dude – five THOUSAND words later??? it's coming! here's a tease ;P

H O W T O B E B R O K E N ( TEASER – gif credit: @emziess ) 🎵 how to build a home, the cinematic orchestra ft. patrick watson “Hey, what’s your problem?” you hollered, and it stopped him in his tracks.

“What’s my problem?” he accused, spinning around.

“Yeah, why do you hate me so much?”

Steve laughed at you, unkind, incredulous, “Oh, man–so many reasons. Where d’you want me to start?”

“Wow,” you breathed, genuinely shocked at how shitty he was being.

“Actually, you know what? Here’s a reason–” Steve pointed a finger at you, accusing, angry. “You’ve never once, not even one time, put your shit on the line for any of us,” he swiped his finger through the air, an imaginary underline for emphasis, “And you’ve been here for months.”

His words hit you like a sucker punch, and the flicker in your belly burned, as if Steve had just poured kerosene on a fire.

“Are you serious?” you snapped, “I’ve been putting my ass on the line since day one! And I continue to do it every single time I go in there to steal highly sensitive military intel about some unhinged science experiment that’s about to crash this shithole of a town into another fucking dimension!”

Steve was silent, jaw ticking as he bit down on the truth, Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallowed it down. “I don’t have time for this,” he gritted out, putting his hands up in the space between you and turning heel for the van.

“Oh, c’mon, Steve,” you taunted, following close behind, “You gonna walk away from me? S’matter, don’t have it in you?”

Wheeling around, his usual perfectly coiffed chestnut locks flew into his eyes, the wild look on his face stopping you in your tracks, but you held your ground.

“You think I’m gonna rat you out,” you challenged, more statement than question, standing almost toe-to-toe with him despite the severe height difference. “Think I’m gonna screw up your whole plan and get you all landed in prison.”

“Yes!” Steve exclaimed as if you were finally getting it. “Your dad and all his douchebag, sellout friends are down there just waiting for a chance to snatch El. Who says you’re not gonna sell us out as soon as we leave the damn driveway?”

“Don’t you think I’d have done that already??”

“Maybe you’re playing the long con! Giving daddy all the information you have so they know exactly where to hit us when we’re–”

“Are you kidding me? D’you know how much danger I’m putting myself in? Putting my mom in? You think I’d do this any longer than I have to? She has no idea what I’m doing, and if I ever got caught, she’d be so fucked–”

“Oh, poor little army brat,” Steve rolled his eyes, but then you stuck a finger into his chest, hard and pointed, and he took a step back.

“Don’t talk to me like that.”

“Or what?” Steve cut, regaining his footing and crowding down over you. “C’mon. What’s your angle, sweetheart?”

A sharp puff of air left your nose, anger crackling in your chest at the condescension. “I’d say I don’t have one, but you wouldn’t believe me,” you growled.

“No. I wouldn’t,” he snarled, tone bitchy and tongue jammed in his cheek as he turned away from you, yarding open the van door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got shit I need to do. Shit that actually helps us.”

[crappymixtape]

alsoooooo

🎥 in the upside down, enemies to lovers pls? (If you’re feeling it, no pressure of course) 💖

booooothang, i'm writing your ask right now and HOOOOBOY it's a doozy. i hope you love it 😏 gonna post here in a couple of hours, MUAHAHHAHA

[crappymixtape]

okay well apparently i’m on tiktok now 😵‍💫 AND georgia parker commented on my post when i used one of her songs for a stevie vid??? excuse me while i fangirl / faint 😩🫶🏼🫶🏼

TikTok - Make Your Day

like????

[crappymixtape]

the late night shift

REQUEST → sweet nonny, 2000 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION ❝ location: work, theme: peril/danger??? but make it flirty perhaps 🤔 trying to keep it interesting for you 😌 • you and steve turn up to work at the squawk and find yourselves in danger, per usual, when someone decides to pay the station a visit during one of the crawls, throwing two desk mates into a very perilous situation ( 2.5K – co-worker!steve harrington x reader exchanging flirty banter while 1000% at risk of being taken prisoner by dr. kay and her goons )

T H E L A T E N I G H T S H I F T 🎵 we didn’t start the fire, billy joel

You watched a Billy Joel record spin circles on the player, the one Steve had begrudgingly handed you a couple of minutes ago when you suggested Rhythm Nation “again” to which he replied “absolutely not” in a particularly bratty tone. Tensions were already sky high, but on crawl nights, they rocketed into space.

“Listen, it’s not that I dislike Janet,” Steve reasoned, back turned to you while he dug through sound effect tapes, “I just don’t feel like it sets the right mood for–”

“–hunting an evil flesh monster?” you deadpanned.

Steve shot you a look.

“Well–yeah. Whatever. I guess,” he sighed, carding a hand through his already messy brown locks, tongue jammed in his cheek and telling you he was stressed.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” you tried to reassure him, half-kicking at the leg of the desk and sending your chair spinning in a slow circle. “Hopper’s been extra careful lately.”

Steve hummed low in response, hesitating at your words: extra careful.

Because of El. Because of Dr. Kay. Because of them.

Every single one of those gun-toting goons behind the barbed wire fence of the MAC-Z, frothing at the mouth to be the one to bring her in, to please the doctor.

“Steve?” you asked quieter this time, the bite in your tone fading with the way your friend was staring into space, the recently permanent pinch between his brows.

“What?” came out a gasp as he started, knocking his tapes to the floor, “–shit.”

Rolling your chair over, you leaned down to help pick them up and caught the worry swimming in the green-gold of his eyes. Unlike Steve, you were fairly new to this whole Upside Down, Vecna, Henry, 001 shit, and while the risks were pretty obvious, you hadn’t actually seen anything happen. Not like he had.

Hadn’t beaten a demogorgon with a nail bat, or been chased by demodogs around a junk yard, get drugged by Russians or choked out by flying monsters with fangs. Hadn’t watched your friends suffer like his had. Hadn’t lost someone.

Your fingers bumped into Steve’s as you reached for the last tape at the same time, and he pulled his hand back as if scared to get burned.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, shaking his head.

“S’okay.”

Picking up the tape, you held it out to him, and he took it quietly, setting it on the top of the stack before sinking down into his chair. He flicked at the records he’d put aside earlier for the queue and distractedly grabbed the one on top.

“Here, before that track finishes.”

You glanced down at the dust jacket and snorted.

“Gloria, huh?”

“Someone’s gotta have fun around here,” he grumbled, but you could hear a tinge of a smile at edge of his voice.

“Okay, party boy,” you teased as he swiveled away from you to hide the way he bit back a laugh. Flicking your mic on, you switched into radio mode, “And now, a pick from my co-host with impeccable taste–get on your feet, people, let’s dance!” Easing the volume down on Billy, you turned Gloria up and spun around to kick your toe into Steve’s sneaker.

“Hm?” he glanced up at you, catching your gaze, and you watched as his pupils dilated, their golden hue swallowed up in black.

“Well? Aren’t you gonna ask me to dance?” you asked simply, brow quirked, and the challenge lit him up.

“Oh,” he scoffed, unable to hide his boyish grin, “Since you asked so nicely.”

“I’m very nice.”

“Mmhm,” he hummed back skeptically, but stood and held out a hand for you.

You don’t remember when it happened, this thing between you and Steve, but it must have started like a small swirl of smoke. A flicker of fire, ember and coals fanned to life by him. The way he cared for his friends like family, how vulnerable he’d become, his dedication and loyalty and persistence to keep trying, keep going, no matter how shitty everything had become.

Steve’s dance moves, however, were something else altogether.

“Jesus–Steve–” you snorted, letting him twirl you around the studio.

“What?” he asked cheekily as he swung you effortlessly in and out before spinning you under his arm. He let you stretch just far enough away that your fingers started to untangle, but then pulled you back into him and your hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt to steady yourself.

“Oh,” you murmured, his breath fanning over your cheeks with the quick rise and fall of his chest.

“Yeah,” he breathed, swallowing thick, Adam’s apple bobbing under your gaze.

His fingers squeezed at the plush of your hips, hands wide and warm, and it sent your pulse fluttering at your neck.

“Steve?” came out shy, and he nodded dumbly.

“Uh huh?”

“Can I–”

FSSSSSST!

The walkie on your desk scratched loudly, before cutting out and scratching again.

“SQUAWK–COME IN SQUAWK–SHIT’S ABOUT TO GET REAL–”

Erica.

“Jesus Christ–” Steve hissed, scrambling over his chair to get to the walkie as you turned to the window, fingers flicking two of the blind slats open. “Come in?? Hello??” Steve shouted, but he was greeted with silence. “God dammit,” he swore, “Minas Tirith this is Squawk, over!”

“No,” you breathed, eyes glued to the lights coming up the road, “No, no, no, no, no.”

“What is it??” Steve’s voice pitched more and more desperate as he clumsily hopped over the booth to the window.

“We’ve got company.”

Moving over to let him see, his mouth dropped open the minute he realized.

“You gotta be kidding me–” he groaned, stumbling back to the walkie and hitting the call button. “Come in! Anyone??” he pleaded, shooting you a look, eyes wild, “What the hell did Dustin tell us to say??”

You grabbed the walkie, cheeks burning with nerd knowledge, “Gondor calls for aid!” But the proud look Steve gave you after set your heart stuttering in your chest.

BANG, BANG, BANG!

“YOU HAVE 60 SECONDS TO OPEN THIS DOOR BEFORE WE BLOW IT OFF THE HINGES!”

“Shit–we gotta go–” Steve grabbed your hand, yanking you through the studio to the supply room and the hidden staircase to the basement. Pushing and pulling, you both managed to yank the old, rickety shelf aside and slip behind it, metal scraping on the concrete as you hurried to put it back in place.

BOOM, CRASH!

“Was that the door–” Steve started, but you pressed your hand to his mouth, silencing him mid-sentence.

“Spread out–two to a room! Cuff and arrest anyone you find! They’re considered to be in direct violation of quarantine law!” a harsh voice barked.

You started to shake, hands trembling and knees quivering, and Steve glanced over at you, brows knitted in the middle. You met his gaze, and he quietly mimed breathing in and out, nodding at you, trying to reassure, It’s okay.

SLAM!

The door to the room smacked against the wall as a soldier kicked it open, and Steve instinctively pulled you into him, arms tight and holding you against his chest, the steady thud, thud, thud of his heart filling your ear.

Recklessly rummaging around the room, the soldier kicked at the filing cabinet with a grunt, knocking it on its side. “This place is a fucking dump,” he muttered to his partner, shining the light at the end of his gun up at the ceiling.

“Complete slobs,” the other man agreed, running a hand along the wall opposite the shelf hiding you from their prying eyes.

And then you felt it before it happened, a twinge at your shoulder, your chest squeezing in on itself, tiny prickles that turned into an almost painful shock of electricity down your arms. Your breath quickened, body shaking against Steve’s.

“CLEAR!” one of the soldiers shouted, and they left the room.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Steve whispered, voice a rasp from keeping quiet, “Talk to me.”

You swallowed thick, eyes closed against the panic attack still wrecking havoc through your nervous system.

“We’re safe, they’re gone, it’s okay,” Steve tried again, hands soothing gently up and down your arms, but your brain kept you stuck between fight or flight. “Listen, look at me,” he murmured, softly taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger, “Do this with me, hm?”

“Okay,” you stuttered.

“What are five things you can see?” he asked, nodding reassuringly.

“Um–” you swallowed again, tried to get a grip, but your hands were still shaking.

“Shh,” Steve whispered, “What do you see?”

Blinking back tears, you looked around you at the dark dingy stairwell, “Bricks.”

“Good,” Steve smiled, “What else?”

“Uh–light switch.”

“Mmhm.”

“Stairs, railing,” you listed off, feeling your heart cease slamming against your ribcage, your gaze drifting up to look at the boy – the man – with incredible patience. “You,” came out a whisper.

“Hi,” he teased gently, smile growing. “Okay, four things you can touch?”

“Touch,” you echoed, “The floor, my shoes…”

“Good, and?”

“Uh…your shirt,” you said, eyes flicking back up to meet his again, his fingers squeezing at yours. “Your hands.”

“Three things you hear?”

“Humvees,” you murmured, heart skipping in your chest at the thought of the soldiers again and Steve reached up to tuck the stray locks of hair out of your face. “Um–the record,” which was still playing out faintly in the other room, “And your voice.”

“Doin’ great,” he praised, and a flicker of a smile twitched at the corners of your lips. “Two things you smell?”

“Mildew,” you half-laughed at the must of the stairwell, then took in a breath and it caught on the faded scent of Steve’s cologne. “Your cologne,” you admitted, cheeks warming and Steve’s eyes crinkled at how big his smile was.

“Which is good, I hope?” he teased.

You chuckled, “Yes.”

“Last one,” he prompted, your hand still held in his, “One thing you can taste.”

Flicking your gaze up to look at him, you realized the attack had almost fully faded, now just a dull twinge at the edges of your mind. The tingling gone from your arms, pins and needles no longer stabbing at the insides of your limbs. The only thing left was your heart, but it wasn’t racing because you were worried. No. It was because of him. Steve. The way he’d just carried you through one of the worst attacks you’d ever had with empathy, care, concern.

He caught the way you were looking at him, eyes turned gooey around the edges, their usual bright hazel color warmed to caramel and liquid amber. It was his turn to grapple with nerves, a live wire under your gaze, as his thumb absentmindedly swept back and forth over your skin.

Pushing up on your toes, you slowly closed the gap between you, not that there was much of one to begin with, and he didn’t pull away. Chestnut locks fell into his eyes as he tilted his head, leaning into to the way you felt against him, his long brown lashes sweeping over the apples of his cheeks as they fluttered closed, and your lips finally met.

It was soft, curious, searching and easy. His fingers slipped behind your neck, threading between the baby hairs that curled there, and you gasped into him at the feeling of his touch. Warm and slow, cradling you gently and letting you lead. It was faded spearmint gum and aftershave, the sharp scent of the sweat that had gathered on his brow and your perfume. When you pulled away it ached, your heart pleading more, more, more as Steve sighed at the absence of you.

“I taste you,” you whispered, and he gave you a lopsided smile, a little shy and a lot pleased as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“Not how I pictured it…” he huffed through a laugh and your features pulled in confusion.

“Pictured what?”

“Our first kiss,” he admitted, heat blooming from his chest up to the tips of his ears.

“First kiss,” you echoed with a smile, “You were thinking about our first kiss?”

“Is that lame?” he asked, bashful, and you pushed up on your toes again to press a chaste kiss to the soft plush of his lips.

“No.”

“Was gonna try and take you somewhere nice–well–as nice as we could get in a military quarantine,” he joked and it pulled a laugh from you. “Wanted to make you dinner or something. Honestly, anything would’ve been better than hiding in some weird smelly hallway.”

You laughed again, a bright sound Steve wished he could bottle up and keep, and it made him grin.

“Steve! Holy shit–Steve!”

Both of you jumped at the sound of Dustin screeching in the other room.

“Shit, shit, shit–did they get taken??” the boy panicked.

“Calm down, Henderson,” Hopper growled, “Did you check the passageway?”

“Dammit–Steve??”

The sound of Dustin’s sneakers on the floor clambered into the room and the shelf rattled, dumping empty paint cans to the ground as the boy yanked it aside to reveal the two of you, Steve still holding you tight to his chest.

“Oh, thank God you’re okay!” Dustin sighed, throwing his arms around you both in relief.

“Think they’re more than okay,” Hopper frowned and Steve let his hands fall away from you, pressing himself as far away as he could in the small space.

“Yeah, yep! We’re–uh–we’re totally fine,” Steve fumbled.

The older man rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath. “Lucky us,” he grumbled, then louder, “Let’s get this place cleaned up! It’s a damn mess.”

“Why didn’t you walkie??” Dustin shoved at Steve, earning him a frown.

“We did!” Steve insisted, “We even said your stupid code about Gordon or whatever.”

“–Gondor,” you corrected and Steve’s expression flattened while Dustin gave you a giant toothy grin.

“You remembered!”

“A little hustle, huh?” Hopper shouted from the other room, “You’ll have plenty of time to nerd out later–get moving.”

Following Steve back out into the room, you grabbed at one of his hand’s, the want to keep touching like fire under your skin, and Dustin waggled his brows at you.

“Smoochin’ in the stairwell,” he grinned, “Nice.”

“Shut up, Henderson,” Steve chirped.

“About time,” Dustin countered, loud enough only you heard, and it made you heart soar.

“Yeah, about time.”

[crappymixtape]

🎥 MOVIE STUB pleaseee

location: work

theme: peril/danger??? But make it flirty perhaps 🤔

Trying to keep it interesting for you 😌

i LOOOOVE this ask, and i love that you kept it interesting ;) i hope you love it as much as i did writing it, babe!!! enjoy <333

Post by @crappymixtape · 2 images

💬 0  🔁 0  ❤️ 0 · the late night shift · REQUEST → sweet nonny, 2000 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION ❝ location: work, theme: peril/danger??? but make i

[crappymixtape]

💨 - 🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip? (From either any fic or your book, whichever you’d rather!!!)

congrats again on 2k 🥹💖🥳

for you, lovely 💕 thank you so much for cheering me on and being here through it all! i hope you love it as much as i did writing it xoxo

Post by @crappymixtape · 2 images

💬 0  🔁 0  ❤️ 0 · a sneak peek · REQUEST → @infraredparadise, 2000 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION ❝ 🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip? From e

[crappymixtape]

a sneak peek

REQUEST → @infraredparadise, 2000 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION ❝ 🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip? From either any fic or your book, whichever you’d rather!!! this book is something i've been working on for almost two years now. something i trusted myself with after i got laid off from a high-paying, high-stress, bullshit corporate job. it's been so damn scary and money's beyond tight, but this is my year. i can feel it. this year i'm getting an agent and i'm signing a deal. so for you, my love, a sneak peek at this little piece of my heart <3 i hope you enjoy | ( 1k – best friends -> lovers, second chance romance, small town romance, single dad, runaway bride • original work )

F O R Y O U I W I L L 🎶 how do i tell you?, lizzy mcalpine

I pulled up to the house and parked under the old magnolia tree. The grass over the fence was overgrown, and tiny dandelion wishes floated through the yard on the breeze. A smile flickered at the corner of my lips when I caught the sign by the front steps: The Wrights. The paint was faded, but it was still dutifully welcoming anyone who might wander by. Mom and I had made it when we first moved in.

Pushing open the car door, I slowly stepped out onto the gravel, heart hammering against my ribcage, unsure if it wanted to run for its life or stop altogether.

Ten years.

Ten years since I’d walked this path. Ten years since I’d sat on the now-empty porch swing. Ten years since the last time Mom had come down the front steps to gather me up into a big hug.

Ten years without her.

Tears pinched at the back of my nose, the palms of my hands pressing into the wood of the fence post. Unlocking the gate, I stepped into the shin-high grass, slivers of light falling through the tree branches, dancing over the wildflowers as they bobbed in the wind.

Despite how beautiful everything still looked, each step I took was like walking through molasses. A perfectly awful mix of bone-deep sadness and longing nostalgia tangling at the pit of my stomach. Reaching the front steps, I almost forgot to skip the crack in the second one, but caught myself.

The shiplap ceiling was a little warped, paint peeling in places the sun could reach, the hooks for Mom’s hanging plants still stuck along the trim. I could almost hear the constant drip, drip, drip of the water falling onto the deck when she watered them. The ache in my chest swelled at the memory, and I let myself sink down onto the worn bench swing in a failed search for respite.

The old wood creaked under the weight of its first guest in over a decade. Chains squeaking, they were definitely in need of some WD-40, but still carried me like it always did, my feet hanging above the floor. Even now too short, never tall enough to reach.

“Ellie?”

“Shit–” came out as a gasp, and it was only then that I realized I was crying, pulse fluttering wildly at my neck.

“Oh—damn–are you okay?”

That voice. The sound. Despite everything, it could still curl around what little resolve I had left and melt it down.

“I miss her, Max,” I choked through the knot of tears in my throat, “I miss her so much.”

Taking the four front steps in two, Max was at my side, his familiar weight settling next to me and bringing with it countless sparkling memories that somehow remained untouched by time. Whispering secrets to each other on a summer night because we didn’t want my parents to hear. Sneaking beer from his dad’s garage and drinking it in the dark with grins on our lips as we swam in the haze. Sitting in the quiet after Mom’s funeral, the creaks from the swing the only thing said between us.

Max pulled in a deep breath and let it out in a slow, heavy sigh, tangling his fingers between mine. “I know.”

“How can I say goodbye to this place?” The salty taste of my tears settled at the corners of my lips, my voice wobbling, “I come here, and all I can see is her; it’s all I have left.” I looked over at Max, and his hand squeezed at mine.

“Remember when we stood out here, and she cut off like an inch and a half of your prom dress?” he said through a small smile.

“She almost attached your boutonniere permanently,” I said through a wet, pathetic laugh.

“Not her fault, that rental tux was paper-thin,” Max chuckled.

“It drove Dad nuts when she’d ask him to put the Christmas lights up before Thanksgiving,” I remembered, the memories coming in waves now, and the tears did too.

“You kept those things up til Easter.”

“Yeah,” I tried to laugh again, but it cracked and fell at the end, breaking into a sob.

Max pulled me into his side and I hid there, tucking myself into the perfectly Ellie-shaped gap under his arm.

“I was supposed to have kids here,” I sniffed, “Teach them how to swim in the pool, and ride a bike out front. Get on them for staying out too late—

–and telling them the kid next door is trouble,” Max finished, his thumb soothing circles over my elbow.

“Yeah,” I smiled.

“El,” he said softly, words warm against my hairline, “If you keep running from your past, you’ll always be missing part of yourself, the part that makes you, you. She’s in here somewhere.” Taking my hand, he pressed it over my heart, “Find her.”

“I can’t,” I choked out, tears running freely down my cheeks now in rivers, “It hurts–it hurts too much.”

“I know,” he sympathized, “But those kinds of hurts can’t heal like this.”

Pulling away from my hiding place, I looked up to find his deep green eyes looking right back, fanning the flicker in my chest into flames. I was so scared, so afraid of everything, but here with him, it was safe.

“D’you wanna stay? Just a little longer?” he asked, tucking wild curls out my face, away from my tears.

“Stay with me?”

Easing me back into him, I melted against his chest and breathed him in. Cedar, fresh laundry and faded spearmint. Max, Max, Max.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered.

[crappymixtape]

a love letter // 2k follower celebration

T H E S E B E A U T I F U L T H I N G S 🎶 beautiful things, esther & john

REQUESTS OPEN // when you arrive at WSQK for your early morning shift, you find a large piece of paper taped to the inside of the booth. unlocking the door, you come in and find a ( very ) homemade collage. it's made up of photos of you and steve, you and robin, all of you down at the river over the summer, and surrounding the photos are keepsakes. all things you hadn't realized had been saved. movie ticket stubs, a class of '89 sticker, half a smoked joint ( steve did not handle that one well ). tears prick at the corners of your eyes as each memory squeezes around your heart, then you catch the signature at the bottom, and becomes clear who made it for you. a smile splits your lips: 4–ever yours xoxo, SH. ( PARTY UNDER THE CUT! )

COLLAGE INSTRUCTIONS ( REQUESTS OPEN ) each piece of the collage represents something different, and i've assigned an emoji to all of them! so go ahead and pick an emoji, read the instructions, and then send it to me in an ask here with the appropriate info :) please note, where applicable, all asks that are x reader will be steve–centric! *DISCLAIMER: if you miss anything from the ask, i won't be able to answer! i'm gonna try my damndest to answer every ask that comes through, but will close my inbox in a couple of days! i'll tag you in the post when your ask is done! xoxo

📸 POLAROID -> when you choose this emoji you'll get a collage of reader x steve pics and a quote inspired by it written by me! for this ask, please provide an aesthetic ( smut, fluff, angst, enemies -> lovers, friends -> lovers, etc! ) 🎥 MOVIE STUB -> when you choose this emoji you'll get a reader x steve fic! for this ask, please provide a setting ( pool, bedroom, work, upside down, etc ) and an aesthetic ( smut, peril / danger, fluff, angst, enemies -> lovers, friends -> lovers, etc! ) 🎓 CLASS OF '89 -> when you choose this emoji i'll write you a voicemail, letter, or a yearbook signature from steve to reader – I'll try to tailor it to your mood / what you're needing from stevie! for this ask please provide a mood ( sad, angry, flirty, curious, etc ) and format ( yearbook, voicemail, handwritten letter, etc ). 💨 JOINT -> choose a question from this list and i'll tell you more about my writing or process on a specific fic ( or my book! ) that you love! ( and obvi you can always bother me about my WIPS ;D )

FOREHEAD KISSES FOR THE WRITERS ( WRITER RECS ) being able to write on this site isn't as easy as it looks. it's so intimidating with all of the amazing writers who've been here longer and comparing yourself to all the numbers and hype and followers, but the community is so welcoming! 😩 and it makes it such a pleasure to be here, so please click through to follow / read these lovely writers. read and reblog and comment and GIF them with to death with love cos they deserve it! 💋 couldn't do it without them, ILY babies!!

@andvys ☀ @inkluvs ☀ @fiveraccoonsinatrenchcoat ☀ @carolmunson ☀ @abibliophobiaa ☀ @dukesmebby ☀ @finalgirleddiemunson ☀ @curseofaphrodite ☀ @softharrington ☀ @starrystevie ☀ @acourtofsnakes ☀ @theshireisburning-so-mordoritis ☀ @a-dealwith-god ☀ @keeryshousee ☀ @lofaewrites ☀ @wroteclassicaly ☀ @katyswrites ☀ @schoopsahoy ☀ @andvys ☀ @chestylarouxx ☀ @supernovafics ☀ @superblysubpar ☀ @sswwmmpptthhnngg ☀ @harrywavycurly ☀ @thyme-in-a-bubble ☀ @lovebugism ☀ @sailor-steve-blog ☀ @sattlersquarry ☀ @plainemmanem ☀ @skullrock ☀ @thecreelhouse ☀ @roanofarcc ☀ @levanswrites

@curiositydooropened ☀ @luveline ☀ @stvharrngton ☀ @loveshotzz ☀ @forever-rogue ☀ @forevermoreharrington ☀ @livingintheupsidedown ☀ @annab-nana ☀ @familyvideostevie ☀ @theemporium ☀ @1986harrington ☀ @lucasnclair ☀ @roanniom ☀ @upsidedownwithsteve ☀ @stevebabey ☀ @starryeyedstories ☀ @kimmyiewrites ☀ @softharrington ☀ @hollandweather ☀ @palmtreesx3 ☀ @stevesbabysittingservice ☀ @princessdave ☀ @sweetsweetjellybean ☀ @fettuccin-e ☀ @honeymunson ☀ @usedtobecooler ☀ @aloneinthehellfire ☀ @poguemunson ☀ @myobmaya ☀ @reputationmunson ☀ @sincerelyyoursg ☀ @harringtons-cupid ☀ @spinmewriteround ☀ @ahead-fullofdreams ☀ @stevenose ☀ @stevesgother ☀ @stevesbabysittingservice

AND CHEERS TO YOU – XOXO, 💿 KATE

without the reader, the writing merely exists. an idea brought to life just sitting and waiting for someone to discover it, someone like you. without you my writing doesn't get better, i'm not as curious, i don't try new things – without you this whole thing doesn't work! so THANK YOU! thank you for reading, thank you for reblogging, thank you for sharing, thank you for commenting and GIFing and sending asks. it means the absolute world to me 🥹

and this year? yah girl is going to get an agent for her books and sign a damn contract. this year? is going to be my year ♥️

xoxo, divider love to @cafekitsune!

[crappymixtape]

in case you missed it – here's my 2K celebration! i'm gonna close my inbox this evening, so if you have thoughts, questions, or asks get 'em in! love to you all! and happy reading ;)

[crappymixtape]

a love letter // 2k follower celebration

T H E S E B E A U T I F U L T H I N G S 🎶 beautiful things, esther & john

REQUESTS CLOSED // when you arrive at WSQK for your early morning shift, you find a large piece of paper taped to the inside of the booth. unlocking the door, you come in and find a ( very ) homemade collage. it's made up of photos of you and steve, you and robin, all of you down at the river over the summer, and surrounding the photos are keepsakes. all things you hadn't realized had been saved. movie ticket stubs, a class of '89 sticker, half a smoked joint ( steve did not handle that one well ). tears prick at the corners of your eyes as each memory squeezes around your heart, then you catch the signature at the bottom, and becomes clear who made it for you. a smile splits your lips: 4–ever yours xoxo, SH. ( PARTY UNDER THE CUT! )

COLLAGE INSTRUCTIONS ( REQUESTS CLOSED ) each piece of the collage represents something different, and i've assigned an emoji to all of them! so go ahead and pick an emoji, read the instructions, and then send it to me in an ask here with the appropriate info :) please note, where applicable, all asks that are x reader will be steve–centric! *DISCLAIMER: if you miss anything from the ask, i won't be able to answer! i'm gonna try my damndest to answer every ask that comes through, but will close my inbox in a couple of days! i'll tag you in the post when your ask is done! xoxo

📸 POLAROID -> when you choose this emoji you'll get a collage of reader x steve pics and a quote inspired by it written by me! for this ask, please provide an aesthetic ( smut, fluff, angst, enemies -> lovers, friends -> lovers, etc! ) 🎥 MOVIE STUB -> when you choose this emoji you'll get a reader x steve fic! for this ask, please provide a setting ( pool, bedroom, work, upside down, etc ) and an aesthetic ( smut, peril / danger, fluff, angst, enemies -> lovers, friends -> lovers, etc! ) 🎓 CLASS OF '89 -> when you choose this emoji i'll write you a voicemail, letter, or a yearbook signature from steve to reader – I'll try to tailor it to your mood / what you're needing from stevie! for this ask please provide a mood ( sad, angry, flirty, curious, etc ) and format ( yearbook, voicemail, handwritten letter, etc ). 💨 JOINT -> choose a question from this list and i'll tell you more about my writing or process on a specific fic ( or my book! ) that you love! ( and obvi you can always bother me about my WIPS ;D )

FOREHEAD KISSES FOR THE WRITERS ( WRITER RECS ) being able to write on this site isn't as easy as it looks. it's so intimidating with all of the amazing writers who've been here longer and comparing yourself to all the numbers and hype and followers, but the community is so welcoming! 😩 and it makes it such a pleasure to be here, so please click through to follow / read these lovely writers. read and reblog and comment and GIF them with to death with love cos they deserve it! 💋 couldn't do it without them, ILY babies!!

@andvys ☀ @inkluvs ☀ @fiveraccoonsinatrenchcoat ☀ @carolmunson ☀ @abibliophobiaa ☀ @dukesmebby ☀ @finalgirleddiemunson ☀ @curseofaphrodite ☀ @softharrington ☀ @starrystevie ☀ @acourtofsnakes ☀ @theshireisburning-so-mordoritis ☀ @a-dealwith-god ☀ @keeryshousee ☀ @lofaewrites ☀ @wroteclassicaly ☀ @katyswrites ☀ @schoopsahoy ☀ @andvys ☀ @chestylarouxx ☀ @supernovafics ☀ @superblysubpar ☀ @sswwmmpptthhnngg ☀ @harrywavycurly ☀ @thyme-in-a-bubble ☀ @lovebugism ☀ @sailor-steve-blog ☀ @sattlersquarry ☀ @plainemmanem ☀ @skullrock ☀ @thecreelhouse ☀ @roanofarcc ☀ @levanswrites

@curiositydooropened ☀ @luveline ☀ @stvharrngton ☀ @loveshotzz ☀ @forever-rogue ☀ @forevermoreharrington ☀ @livingintheupsidedown ☀ @annab-nana ☀ @familyvideostevie ☀ @theemporium ☀ @1986harrington ☀ @lucasnclair ☀ @roanniom ☀ @upsidedownwithsteve ☀ @stevebabey ☀ @starryeyedstories ☀ @kimmyiewrites ☀ @softharrington ☀ @hollandweather ☀ @palmtreesx3 ☀ @stevesbabysittingservice ☀ @princessdave ☀ @sweetsweetjellybean ☀ @fettuccin-e ☀ @honeymunson ☀ @usedtobecooler ☀ @aloneinthehellfire ☀ @poguemunson ☀ @myobmaya ☀ @reputationmunson ☀ @sincerelyyoursg ☀ @harringtons-cupid ☀ @spinmewriteround ☀ @ahead-fullofdreams ☀ @stevenose ☀ @stevesgother ☀ @stevesbabysittingservice

AND CHEERS TO YOU – XOXO, 💿 KATE

without the reader, the writing merely exists. an idea brought to life just sitting and waiting for someone to discover it, someone like you. without you my writing doesn't get better, i'm not as curious, i don't try new things – without you this whole thing doesn't work! so THANK YOU! thank you for reading, thank you for reblogging, thank you for sharing, thank you for commenting and GIFing and sending asks. it means the absolute world to me 🥹

and this year? yah girl is going to get an agent for her books and sign a damn contract. this year? is going to be my year ♥️

xoxo, divider love to @cafekitsune!

[wonderlanderings]

Get To Know Your Moots - 2025 Edition

Rules: Answer these with your top three from 2025 (not released in 2025, but experienced or hyperfixated on). (thank you @sweetpeapod for the tag <3) Tag, you're it: @fivenightsatsunnys, @28bohemianmoonsbohemian, @daisyjonesgf, @bitterreid, @alloftheimagines, @sugarcult, @chaotic-ppeach, @soupinspector, @infraredparadise & anyone who wants to

Celeb Crushes:

Joe Keery, Sophie Thatcher, David Corenswet.

Movies:

A Million Ways to Die in the West, Some Like it Hot, Thunderbolts*

Games:

Stardew Valley, The Last of Us Pt. II, League of Legends

Books:

Sunrise on the Reaping, The Importance of Being Earnest, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

TV Shows:

Arcane, The Addams Family, Stranger Things.

Band/Artist/Musician:

Fleetwood Mac, Conan Gray, Cage The Elephant.

Content Creators (up to your interpretation):

Umm, I don't know about this one. Will always love writers and artists, so I'm going to go with that <3

Three Things That Got You Through 2025:

My bunny, buying plants, taking naps (and fanfiction, of course)

[daisyjonesgf]

ty for the tag mwah 💋

celeb crushes: jared + genevive padalecki (they're a joint deal to me) joe keery, and sabrina carpenter

movies: saltburn, sinners, (500) days of summer

games: date everything...and that was it 😔

books: sunrise on the reaping, normal people, as I lay dying

tv shows: supernatual, yellowjackets, stranger things

band/artist/musician: fleetwood mac, djats, the beatles

content creators: dylan is in trouble/ooga booga etc, ashley norton, uncarley

things that got me through 2025: wine wednesdays with my friends, my cat, and having people over for dinner

tags ♡ @emmynemm @wonderlandwalker @pllwtclk @cr3stawrites @auroralwriting @imsogonesposts @nomorespahgetti @lovedrunkmess

[imsogonesposts]

ty for the tag!!🩷🩷

celeb crushes: joe keery (duhsies), renee rapp, and milo manhiem

movies: 10 things i hate about you, IT, breakfast club, and a lot more

games: mario?😭😭 idk i dont play a lot of video games

books: seven husbands of evelyn hugo, invisible life of addie larue, daisy jones & the six, and a lot more

tv shows: stranger things, school spirits, yellowjackets, i love la

band/artist/musician: taylor swift, gracie abrams, djo, sabrina carpenter, tate mcrae, olivia rodrigo, and a lot more

content creators: none? idk i don’t watch a lot of stuff 😭😭😭

things that got me through 2025: my planner is my best friend

tags: @ssweeterthanfiction @sincerelystarry @emmynemm @cr3stawrites @wond3rland13 @sweetlikenonsense @pretentious-blonde

[angelloveprincess]

Thank you for the tag!!🧁

Celeb crushes: Joe keery, Sophie thatcher, and Taylor swift.

Movies: death becomes her (my favorite movie ever), uptown girls, the holiday.

Games: animal crossing and thats about it lmaoo

Books: seven husbands of Evelyn Hugo, Daisy jones and the six, sunrise on the reaping.

Tv shows: Stranger things, yellowjackets, the nanny.

Band/artist/musician: Taylor Swift, Sabrina Carpenter, Ariana Grande, Tate McRae, ABBA. (I know its top three but those are my favs of all time.)

Content creators: ur internet mom ash/Ashley Ippolito, uncarley, Trin Lovell.

Things that got me through 2025: Journaling, hanging out with friends, seeing some of my favs live.

Tags!!: @emmynemm @matthewsmania @sweetlikenonsense @choclatechipcookiechloe @cosmiiwrites @cr3stawrites @noisyalmonddreamer @annaevermore @vcnillafairy + anyone who wants to join !!

[sweetlikenonsense]

Tysm for the tags @wond3rland13 and @imsogonesposts!! 🫶🏼

Celeb crushes: Honestly atm it's just Joe keery hehe 🫠

Movies: I’m not really a movie girl, but I love a cheesy romcom / girl flick — Mean Girls, Bridget Jones, How to lose a guy in 10 days (which I would love to turn into a fic 👀). Also enjoy Marvel movies, but mostly the older ones.

Games: Sims 4 (just got back into it and immediately ran out of storage on my Mac 😭).

Books: This is an impossible question 😭 I love a good murder mystery like Kathy Reichs, but on the flip side I’m also a sucker for romcoms / YA like Beach Read, Book lovers and The love Hypothesis etc.

Tv Shows: Criminal Minds, Bones, Castle, Dexter, Stranger Things.

Band/artist/musician: Djo, Gracie Abrams, Sabrina Carpenter, Tate Mcrae, Olivia Rodrigo, Role Model, Lizzy McAlpine etc.

Content creators: Very recently (and very late) I’ve got into YouTube particularly WillNe and James Marriott aha

Things that got me through 2025: My dogs! Started the year with one and ended it with two, so definitely the best part of my year. Oh… and also probably finally finishing my higher education and getting my master’s degree 🥹🎓

no pressure tags (if you don't like to be tagged in these just let me know): @loveu2themoonandtosaturn @thecreelhouse, @sheisjoeschateau @losqueridoes @ahead-fullofdreams, @stevesgother and anyone else that wants to join in ♡

[ahead-fullofdreams]

Thank you @sweetlikenonsense (I'm just filling my night with these asks now, it's great)

Celeb crushes: Joe Keery

Movies: A Hard Day's Night, Bohemian Rhapsody, Nowhere Boy

Games: Sims 4!! I love playing it and I always take screenshots when there are npc's that wear the most random outfits and do the most random things

Books: Zamonien-books by Walter Moers, Lockwood & Co., Jurassic Park

TV shows: Stranger Things, Lockwood & Co.

Band/artist/musician: The Beatles, Djo, David Bowie, Pink Floyd... (the list goes on)

Content creators: I'm mostly on tumblr, so it's definitely all the wonderful fanfic authors here and also everyone else

Things that got me through 2025: my turtles (like every year, I'm their biggest fan, they're so cool) and Djo's music (helped me in a few complicated times)

Tagging (no pressure; also, if you don't want me to tag you, please tell me, I don't want to upset or annoy anyone):

@crappymixtape @kaciebello @neewtmas @once-upon-an-imagine @wordsarelife

Love to you all 💫

[crappymixtape]

bruhhh, i've been so deep in this damn book, i haven't been able to come up for air 🤪 thank you @ahead-fullofdreams for giving me a fun distraction!

♥️ CELEB CRUSHES: joe keery ( obvi ), but a few more ( of SEVERAL ) are adam brody, sam claflin, manny jacinto and tommy martinez. 🎬 MOVIES: jurassic park ( OG ), the day after tomorrow, kpop demon hunters ( YES, OKAY?? ) love, rosie, plus one, ETC ETC 👾 GAMES: oregon trail, stardew valley, let's go eevee, and crossy road castle 📕 BOOKS: how to end a love story, the ex-vows, funny story, this summer will be different 📺 TV SHOWS: stranger things, nobody wants this, prehistoric planet, the sisters grimm, lockwood & co. 🥁 BAND / ARTIST / MUSICIAN: djo, lizzy mcalpine, marie dresselhuis, joan, post animal, role model, etta marcus, ethel cain 📱CONTENT CREATORS: hm, i'm not very good at content consuming unless it's the fic writers on here ( who are all SAINTS btw ) – i have a giant list of them on my main page here! 🙏🏼 THINGS THAT GOT ME THROUGH '25: this website and the writers here!! xoxo but also seeing djo and post animal live, getting to meet two of my tumblr girlies ( @curiositydooropened and @superblysubpar ) in real life 🥹 and continuing on this journey to be a for real life published author – this is my year to sign an agent, i can FEEL it 🏷️ TAGGING: honest to god, anyone else who sees this and feels compelled? please do! i love reading them – xoxo, kate

[crappymixtape]

ur getting some love on tiktok 🙏🏽

CRYING IN THE CLURB 😩 this is so <333 thank you for sharing this with me, lovely!! xoxo if anyone else sees anything like this around the internet, please send it to me! 🥹

also, for any of y'all that are still obsessed with laugh like lovers, kiss like friends? THAT'S THE ONE I'M TURNING INTO A LEGIT BOOK. it's at the finish line bbs, 80K words of steve harrington inspired angst, fluff, smut, and slow burn lovin 😮‍💨

Post by @crappymixtape · 6 images

💬 34  🔁 171  ❤️ 860 · laugh like lovers, kiss like friends · you're getting married – steve’s in town for the ceremony and it dredges up old

[crappymixtape]

get you a man who can do both

[crappymixtape]

three years of crappymixtape

omg it's been three years of steve and almost 2,000 of y'all are following me 🥹 you sure know how to make a girl feel loved, good lord 💕 this community ( and stevie boy ) helped get me out of a decade plus rut of not writing, and honestly? i don't think i'd be writing my first actual novel if i hadn't taken a chance on myself again 🙏🏼

i'm just shy of 100 away from hitting 2k, and planning on a little celebration as a thank you to all the crappymixtape / stevie girls and anyone / everyone who has read / commented on / reblogged / loved my work. because of you i rediscovered my confidence – love you all!!

xoxo, kate

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️'