rearview-mirror

Burning [Billy Hargrove]

Prompt: Hawkins High School’s new bad boy takes a liking for King Steve’s little sister. 

Pairing: (eventual) Billy Hargrove x Reader, (platonic) Steve x Sister!Reader

Fandom: Stranger Things

Author’s note: I do not, in any way, shape, or form, condone Billy’s actions nor excuse his violent and racist behavior. Also, part 2?

(Y/N) applied a coat of her every-day light pink lipstick and smiled to herself, looking at her reflection in her brother’s rearview mirror. Steve caught sight of the moment and smiled, turning the key in the ignition to turn off the vehicle. 

“So, I’ll see you here after school?” Steve asked, turning to face his sister, who was busy cramming her powder blue makeup bag inside her tote. 

The brunette nodded. “Yeah. Can we give Alice a ride home, though? Her car’s broken.”

Steve copied the girl’s gesture. “No problem.”

The Harringtons got out of the brown BMW, (Y/N) pausing to look at her reflection one last time. 

“You look great, (Y/N),” Steve told her, rolling his eyes. “It’s just school, anyway.”

“Tell that to your every-day hairstyle routine,” (Y/N) replied. 

Steve opened his mouth to talk, but words didn’t leave his lips. A blue Camaro came into view, and Steve was well-aware of the sigh coming from his sister’s mouth. As soon as he saw the blonde boy come out from the driver’s side of the car, he turned. 

His sister was no longer there, but walking off toward school. However, Steve frowned. He knew what she thought of him, but still.

“Don’t even think about it, (Y/N),” he whispered, even when no one was listening. 

What he didn’t see was the way in which Billy was looking at the brunette, as if she held the answer to every prayer he had ever whispered. 


(Y/N) sighed as she shover her Physics textbook inside of her locker, pulling out her Psychology one instead. She just couldn’t wait for the day to end. Her head throbbed and her legs felt week, and she only longed for the moment when she would throw herself on the bed without a care in the world. 

“Hey,” she heard from beside her, and her eyes opened wide. She’d only heard that voice once, but she couldn’t say she liked it. And she definitely didn’t expect to hear it being directed at her. 

“Hi,” she answered, closing her locker, textbook in hand. 

Leaning against the locker next to her’s was Billy Hargrove, smirk on his lips. 

“You’re Harrington’s kid sister, aren’t you?” She could see the charm. She just didn’t… feel it. 

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “I’m (Y/N),” she introduced herself. “And I’m only one year younger.”

Billy licked his lower lip. “I’m Billy. Billy Hargrove.”

“I know,” she told him. Billy’s smirk didn’t waver, but something flicked in his eyes. “I know it was you who made my brother’s face resemble an abstract painting. What I don’t know is the reason of you being here, talking to me, despite what you did.” 

Billy’s lips turned into a white, thin line. 

“Is that all?” (Y/N) questioned, her tone flat. 

Billy didn’t answer. And as she turned around and walked away, Billy couldn’t fight the feeling in his chest. He despised her brother, and he wasn’t her biggest fan, but there was something about the way she looked at him, talked to him, that draw him to her. 

Damned Harrington kids. 


Maybe it was the way her skirt hugged her hips. Or the way in which her hair bounced when she took a step. Maybe it was the smile on her face, or the look in her eyes.

Whatever it was, it drove him crazy. It made him drop his half-smoked cigarette to the floor, completely ignoring his sister’s calls, and spun him on his feet. Whatever it was, it was eating him alive. 

And whatever it was, and maybe it was everything, made him walk right to her. 

Billy Hargrove didn’t know what he was thinking when he softly grabbed her by her wrist. 

(Y/N) Harrington turned around, swearing under her breath.

And that, and everything else, made him speak. “What are you doing tonight, Harrington? Fancy a movie?”

And it was the way in which her brows furrowed to signal she was thinking. The way she opened and closed her lips several times, not knowing what to answer. 

“Screw you, Hargrove,” she spat, turning around walking off to her brother’s car, its engine roving. 

And it was the way in which she didn’t even looked back that burned him alive. Because he was so hung up on (Y/N) Harrington, and oh how he would want for her to feel the same damn way. 

5

“I don’t want you to panic,” he says calmly. “But as soon as we’re on the 520 proper, I want you to step on the gas. We’re being followed.”
Followed! Holy shit. My heart lurches into my mouth, pounding, my scalp prickles and my throat constricts with panic. Followed by whom? My eyes dart to the rearview mirror and, sure enough, the dark car I saw earlier is still behind us.

Hit and Run (Steve Harrington x Fem! Reader)

Requested by:@s-e-x-l-o-s-t ( you should really write an imagine where a reader is friends with steve and the kids and in that scene where steve gets out of the bus to confront the demo-dogs one of them attacks him but the reader gets the nail bat and kick the hell out of it and the kids are like omg wtf the demo-dogs go away and steve just kisses the reader, sorry this is so long, you’re writing is incredibly good!)

Summary: You weren’t expecting to spend your evening with a bunch of middle schoolers, and Steve Harrington in the middle of a junkyard, fighting yet another demogorgon. Or demogorgons. 

Word Count: 2000+

Warnings: few curse words here and there and some smooching ofc

Note: I changed the scene up a little and made her attacking the demo-dog on the bus! It’s still basically the same!! I hope you like it :))

HELLA Spoilers for Season 2!!

Originally posted by mikkeljensen

You were planning on spending today in doors, either drawing or studying, not in the back of Steve Harrington’s car with a middle schooler in the front giving you mad attitude while telling you this story of how this demon-slug he found Halloween night turned into a demogorgon and ate his cat. Then escaped the cellar he locked it in by digging through the ground.

“Are you kidding me?” you asked, staring at Dustin with complete bewilderment, “It ate Mews!?” you frowned now, Dustin nodded, and you pouted slightly, “That’s fucked up, your mom came over crying about if we’ve seen Mews the other day!” you pointed, Dustin sighed.

“I know, I know- but I can’t exactly tell her that some demogorgon ate her cat now can I?”

You scowled at him, shaking your head and then looked to Steve, “So what’s the plan?”

Steve shrugged, “We’re going to lure it somewhere secluded and kick it’s ass- you know like last time,” he answered nonchalantly, “You’re here because for some reason you’re really good at gameplans…”

“Yeah, so like last time eh? Set up a trap? I’m not going to cut myself again like I did with Nance and Jonat-”

“No-no, Dart is attracted by raw meat,” Dustin cut you off, you turned to him.

“Who the hell is Dart?”

Dustin rolled his eyes like you were too slow of a thinker for him, “Dart is his name, (y/n)! But that doesn’t matter- what matters is that he grew, and now it’s roaming free and we have to kill him before he kills, so if the next thing you say isn’t how we are going to do it, then don’t talk at all!” Steve turned to Dustin like he was about to scold him or something.

You glared at the kid.

“First up, don’t talk to me like that you little dweeb, and second- it’s clear we have to get a bunch of meat and make a trail- it’s smart, but not that smart because it’ll follow,” you said, leaning back and digging through your bag, “Then we get gas like last time and-” you flicked the lighter in your hand up, Steve glancing at you through the rearview mirror, “and light it’s ass on fire,”

“And where will we get that much meat?”

“Oh you know we’ll just find it lying around- hey maybe we’ll skin and gut a cow, Dustin! It’ll be a fun experie-”

Dustin was about to clap back at you before Steve told you both to shut the hell up.

“Obviously we have to buy meat, and you-” He pointed Dustin,”Stop talking to her like she’s some kind of idiot, she fought one before, so she knows what the hell she’s doing,”

You crossed your arms all smug.

Dustin just simply turned away, saying something under his breath about ‘she didn’t really fight it’. Steve turned back at you, winking, you offered a smile before looking down at your feet. In a way Dustin was right, you didn’t really fight it, but you did help Nancy and Jonathan plan how to trap it.

You let out a sigh. Just an hour earlier, Steve had showed up at your house, telling you to put on your shoes and jacket because he needed your help. You, of course not wanting to pass up another opportunity to hang out with Steve, agreed. That was before you saw Dustin, looking impatient in the front seat of his car and were told you were going to fight another demogorgon.

You huffed slightly, and rubbed your forehead. You really, really didn’t want to do this, you thought you’d never have to ever see one of those things again.

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Bruises On Another (part one)

Originally posted by stydiaislove

Prompt: Steve doesn’t know where they come from, and he isn’t exactly sure why they’re there. All he knows is that his body is littered in bruises, and there’s something different about them. They aren’t just bruises, and they certainly didn’t come from a trip in a step or clumsiness. No, Steve knows there’s more behind the marks that litter his body. 

THIS IS A SERIES: one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight - finale

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Warnings: marks, bruises, pain, physical abuse, etc.

A/N: I hope you all enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Send me a little comment in the ask section or leave it below on what you thought of this chapter. It doesn’t have to be long, I appreciate every single comment I receive and telling me just helps inspire me to write it more frequently. 

P.S. This a soulmate AU.

Tag’s List: @slythergirlimagines
Want to be featured on the tag’s list? Message me letting me know!


His fingers danced over the marks that littered his skin, his brows furrowed in a questioning matter. Purple and blues dents in his skin, mainly on his upper arm and scratches along his chest. They didn’t hurt, rather they just existed and if Steve never looked, he’d never know they were there. This was new, Steve thought. He had no idea where these marks came from or even why they were there.

“Steve!” His father yelled and Steve was brought back to the reality of the world. Blinking, he let his eyes fall one final time on his bruised arm before standing up and slipping his backpack over his shoulders. He’s in his finale year of high school and the pressure is on more than it’d ever been before.

Sighing, Steve ran a hand through his hair before turning and exiting his room. He was met with the sight of his father at the bottom or the stairs, staring up at him with a shake of the head. “Aren’t you meant to pick up Nancy?” He asked, his hands on hips.

Steve nodded; “i’m heading there now.” 

With one final glance from his father, Steve made his way out the front door and towards his car. The bruises slipped to the back of his mind as he threw his keys in the air with pride, and caught them. Life was going great for Steve Harrington, and he couldn’t be more happy. After everything that had happened a year ago, he’d changed; for the better. And he had an amazing girlfriend to help him through the changes.

Steve had fallen in love with Nancy Wheeler, and there was no doubting that those who saw them thought they were meant to be. He was sure that she was the one and honestly, Steve felt like the luckiest man alive. 

With a wide grin, he opened the door to his car and slid in. His eyes fell to the rearview mirror for one final check on his hair and make sure it was at full volume length, and it was. With a satisfied click of his tongue, Steve pushed his keys into the ignition and turned them, hearing the satisfying hum of the car engine starting up. The drive to Nancy’s house took no time at all, and soon he found himself parked just before her driveway and the girl herself was walking down the steps with a smile on her lips.

Steve, being the gentleman he was, leaned over the passengers seat and opened the door up for his girlfriend. Nancy followed his lead, slipping into the car with her books in hand before setting them down on her lap. Steve expected her to say ‘good morning’ or something of the such, but the minute her eyes caught his, her smile turned into a frown.

Steve’s own face fell with confusion, furrowing his brows as one hand rested itself on top of his steering wheel. “Geez, good morning to you too, Nance.” Steve teased, still not quite sure what had caught her attention.

Though the girl only reached out one lithe arm and touched his face with a certain gentleness. Steve meant her eyes that were flooded with concern and snarled his lips in bafflement. “Really Nancy…” He started, reaching up to grasp her wrist gently. “What’s wrong?”

“Your face.” Nancy mumbled, her fingers dancing over Steve’s face, but specifically his left eye. “Your- Your eye, who did that to you?” 

Steve fumbled for a response before glancing back into his rearview mirror in question. What he found was definitely not what he expected, and now his own fingers danced over the new and fresh bruise marking his left eye. “What the…” He mumbled, scooting forward in his seat in utter bewilderment. Just like the marks on his arm, a purple and blue coating covered his left eye; somehow and somewhere he’d gotten a black eye.

He allowed his eyes to fall on Nancy for a moment, finding her just as concerned as he was but confused by his reaction.

Looking at the bruise one finale time, Steve blinked and leaned back; shaking his head. “O-Oh, that.” He tried to cover up his confusion, offering a small smile Nancy’s way. “When I was playing basketball… um, the ball came and hit me in the face. It was a stupid mistake, nothing to worry about.”

Nancy looked skeptical of his lie but let it slide; “well, just be more careful next time.” Steve nodded, situating himself back into his seat comfortably and turning back on the engine. Though his mood had shifted slightly from the particular mark now covering his eye, and he bit his lip in thought;

Where had that bruise come from?


“You can do this.” Your own eye met yours through the bathroom mirror, and you tried to swallow down the fear that consumed you. Eyeing your left eye, you glance at it one final time to make sure that it’d been fully covered by make up and let out a breath of relief when you found the marks underneath completely unnoticeable. “You can do this.”

With one final deep breath, you pushed yourself up from the bathroom sink and brushed down your hair. You met your own eye one last time before turning and heading for the exit. The second you opened the door, you stepped back in surprise when a flutter of kids your age walked by. Narrowly missing their bodies smacking your own, you tried to ignore the rapid beating of your heart.

“Room two-sixty-five. Room two-sixty-five.” You repeated in your head, glancing at the small sheet of paper the front office had given you. That was it, room two-sixty-five. Simple enough.

But as you stared at the littering figures of teenagers and the amount of classrooms with numbers a top of them, you knew that wasn’t true. Starting in a new high school was hard enough, but in the middle of your final year was even more difficult. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you pulled your sleeves further down your arm, nodding your head and begun walking. You must of walked around for a good ten minutes before a bell rung, which you could only assumed meant the beginning of class. You cursed yourself and the fact that you were so bad at directions, looking around the wall for any signal of room two-sixty-five. No such luck.

As kids ran past you and all headed to class, you were left alone in the middle of the hallway, lost. It wasn’t until mostly all of the kids were gone did you start walking again, and as you did you found the figure of another. A girl probably your age, maybe even younger, with brown short hair; she seemed nice enough. You glanced down at the sheet of paper that had done you no good but tell you which classroom you were meant to go to and the girl who stood by her locker. You needed to go to class, no matter how nervous you were and your best bet was asking the girl.

So ignoring the sick feeling you felt well within you, you stepped up to the girl cautiously. “Um- hello?”

The girl spun in response to your voice, her brows furrowing in confusion. “Yes?”

“I’m new… and I was wondering if you could tell me where this room is?” Your voice was quiet, and you were sure the girl had noticed by her curious glances. And you saw her eyes flitter down your attire, every inch of your body except your hands and face were covered by a piece of clothing and it wasn’t particularly cold out. But despite that, she still accepted the piece of paper you’d offered her and smiled.

“Of course.” She nodded, her eyes glancing over the paper before she clicked her tongue in realization. “It’s just down the hall there, the second door to the left. You can’t miss it.” You nodded, offering a small smile in response and mumbled a thank you. Before you could turn the other way though, the girls hand fell on your shoulder; “I’m Nancy, by the way. If you ever need help…”

You nodded; “thank you.”

Then before she could say anything you turned and walked in the direction she’d pointed. You let out a breath of relief when you finally found room two-sixty-five, your english class and paused for a moment. Your hand fell to your left eye, hoping everything was still covered before raising your hand to knock. Soon enough the door opened and a teacher stepped through. You worried for a moment he’d yell at you for being late, but instead he just smiled; “ah- you must be Y/N, our new student.”

With wide eyes, you nodded, not meeting his eye. “Come in, come in.” You followed him within the classroom, and you felt yourself petrified as everyones eyes fell on you and only you. You nearly missed the teacher start speaking as you felt yourself stuck. “Class, this is our new student; Y/N. Y/N, i’m Mr. Jones.” You nodded slowly, turning to him with a pale face. “There’s an empty seat at the back.”

You wasted no time making your way to the back of the class, desperate for everyones eyes to come off of you. And as you sat, you let out a breath of relief when everyone focused back on Mr. Jones. But as you gazed around, you found one pair of eyes on your own; a boys. You had no idea why he was staring at you, but your eye met his and it was almost like time slowed down.

His left eye… a bruise exactly like your own.


Part 2?

Let me know below!

Life Partner - Harry Styles

Breakdown: Harry ditches the “womanizer” label when he falls for an ordinary girl, and reflects on their relationship as he drives home from a concert, but is bombarded by paparazzi. 

Harry was once a hopeless romantic and firm believer in true love. Unfortunately, his rise to stardom stripped him from these beliefs and he lost all hope in ever finding someone to spend the remainder of his life with. Throughout the past few years, Harry has constantly been labeled as a “womanizer” by the media. Harry definitely agreed that his romantic partners changed frequently, but this was not due to being a womanizer. He finally realized that being a celebrity and having a serious relationship was an extremely challenging task, and to do so would require the right girl for him. Therefore, Harry acknowledged that while being an international artist, he would have to be content with short-term flings with women whom he knew would never be his life partner.

But that now seems like an entire lifetime ago for Harry. As Harry stares down at the beautiful woman sleeping beside him, he can’t stop himself from entering into a deep reflection. They have only been together for fourteen months, but Harry couldn’t bear the thought of not having her in his life.

Their paths crossed one brisk fall morning as Harry strolled the streets of Greater London. While trying to shield his identity, Harry toppled directly onto her, which caused her to plunge onto the rough ground. As a crowd took notice of the pop sensation, Harry bolted to take cover from the growing crowd. However, he did not flee without dragging her along with him so he could deliver a proper apology and ensure that she was not injured. But as the two waited for the crowd to disappear, they fell into a deep conversation which left Harry completely amazed in a way that he had never been before. As he stared into her twinkling eyes, he knew that she was not a girl that he could just walk away from.

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6

“It’s just like Hamlet said: ‘To thine own self be true’.”
“No, Hamlet didn’t say that.”
“I think that I remember Hamlet accurately.”

safe and sound

Summary: You hate the fact that with every thing he does, Steve makes you fall for him more and more; even though he doesn’t know it.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Word Count: 2,172 [I’m sorry]

A/N: Can you tell I’m in love with Steve? hope you all enjoy, I’ve got one more fic coming for ya this weekend! xx | masterlist

Originally posted by taikka

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For the Best

Originally posted by machomanwrestlinghistory

The shield/OC- After talking with Bayley and riding with the boys, things start to slowly make sense.

Warning: this is a hot mess, spanking, a little daddy kink, a little bi.

(This is my first story is a super long time so y’all please let me know how you like it. Also writing this many people is a nightmare.ALSO I cant make titles for the life of me so ignore this shitty title.)


As the cool wind hit me I let out a faint sigh. A small shiver ran up my body as I rubbed my arms, trying to make the goose bumps go away. I was waiting in the garage of the arena waiting for my ride because Bayley bailed out on me again.


“I’m so sorry. Sasha just asked me to ride with her because she doesn’t want to be alone.” Bayley looked at me with a sad face but soon smirked at me, “You know the boys would probably take you and besides you guys are like best friends…even more?” Bayley nudge my arm at the last part, making me roll my eyes at her.

“Bayley I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again. There is nothing going on between the Shield and me. We are just really good friends.” I looked with disbelief at Bayley as she started chuckling at my statement.

“Sure sure whatever you say, but maybe not say that to Dean.” Bayley said as she walked away towards the garage.


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It Takes Time

Author: Zoe

(A/N: Here’s a little treat! Don’t worry, this is an all fluffy fic!)

Steve Harrington x Reader

Plot Summary: The one constant that has been in Steve’s life for the past year or so has been you. But what happens when he doesn’t quite get the timing right?

Originally posted by mikkeljensen

One quiet night. Finally, a quiet night after all of the Upside-Down, demogorgon bullshit that came with Hawkins and the group you knew. Jonathan and you had shared a class together and became decent acquaintances, until you found yourself roped into the insanity of it all.

So, you enjoyed it. You finished helping the staff and committee make plans the ‘Snow Ball’ at the middle school for the day and now you’re back in the safe confines of being in a soft bed, home alone while your parents went out for dinner. You threw in a mixtape and pulled out a book, snuggled into the covers of your bed while you let yourself try to forget the events of the past year or so as they drifted into mind.

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Pearl Jam- Rearviewmirror (with Lyrics)

stronger ❖ jongin (4)

❝Look at me❞ he half whispered.


(gif not mine, cr to the owner)

fluff, angst, dad!jongin au, ceo!jonging, daddy tbh, smut (in future), age gap, if you don’t like, don’t read | velvet

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3


Mom told me❞ your sister chuckled from the other side of the phone.

Told you what?❞ you sighed looking at your wardrobe. You weren’t even sure why you were picking up your clothes with such attention, you never really cared about how you dressed. Even because you were just going grocery shopping with Mr Kim and Taeoh, so you didn’t have to dress up.

You heard your nephews muffled laughs on the other side of your phone, probably your sister was trying to get them out of their pajamas. ❝That you’re now a babysitter❞ she laughed.

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dean/cas fic: nothing else matters (1.2k)

nothing else matters; 1.2k, coda for 13x01, dean is a sad bean

[AO3]

“We lost everything,” Dean snarls. His pulse is thundering underneath his jaw. “And now you’re gonna bring him back. You’re gonna bring back Cas, you’re gonna bring back Mom, you’re gonna bring ‘em all back – all of 'em. Even Crowley.

”'Cause after everything you’ve done… you owe us, you sonofabitch. So you get your ass down here, and you make this right. Right here. Right now.“

Dean sucks in a breath. He pauses for a second, but nothing happens – no thunderbolt, no flash of light, no voice in the distance. Swallowing hard, he glances at the sky, then turns and looks out across the lake. The water is pale blue and rippling softly. Dean sucks in another breath, and another. The stench from the restaurant’s dumpster crowds into his nose - rotting food and grease.

He slams his fist into the smiling pirate cut-out on the wall, again and again and again – until his knuckles split open and the wood splinters and snaps in half. He hurls the pieces over his shoulder and chokes down a thick, desperate noise. He wants – fuck. Fuck.

"Please.”

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Young and In Love

Originally posted by elisabetholsen

Peter Parker x Reader

Request:Can I request a Peter Parker imagine where you’ve been dating him for a while now and then he introduces her to the avengers and they embarrass Peter because hes like the baby of the team and it’s really cute and fluffy with like implied stuff? Thanks!

Word Count: 892


Y/n sat in the back of Aunt May’s car as she drove her and Peter to the Avenger’s compound. She was excited as ever but she knew Peter was nervous as he continued to bop his leg up and down with his head looking out the window. Leaning forward she hushed out, “Pete, it’s going to be fine. Don’t worry so much, I’m sure everything will go well.”

Letting out a deep sigh, he turned around to look at her, “I know…”

“There is nothing to worry about Peter.” They both turned to look at Aunt May as she began to talk, “I’m sure everyone will welcome her in open arms just as I did. Now. We’re here and for goodness sake, be on good behavior.” She said turning her head to look at the two teenagers.

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Watch That Blonde Hair Swing

A/N: Yes. Hello. My name is Liz and I had really bad writer’s block for most of the year, but I finally kicked that sucker’s ass. Also I gave Emma Charming-Swan-Jones a haircut because I could. And also because I still have nightmares about those horrible extensions they made Jen wear her last episode. So here have some Emma Haircut fic with a side of CS Domesticity. (Also, please be gentle LOL) Xx

Summary: A woman who cuts her hair is about to change her life. Or so Emma’s heard before.

Words: 2,177| Rating: FD for Fluff with a side of Domesticity | ao3


A woman who cuts her hair is about to change her life.

Or so Emma’s heard before. From some beauty influencer or other. Audrey Hepburn, maybe? That doesn’t sound right, though. Miranda Priestley? No, no, she was the uptight, no nonsense boss from that one movie her mother made her watch during one of their girls’ nights. Oh! Coco Chanel? That sounds vaguely familiar, she’ll have to check to be sure but regardless of who said it, she has to admit they were on to something.

She can’t even remember the last time she’s done something this…drastic. She’s worn her hair long for as far back as she can remember, only trimming it when needed to maintain its health. It’s definitely a change, she muses, pursing her lips while she contemplates her image in the rearview mirror of the bug for what feels like the millionth time in the last twenty minutes. Her head moves slowly from one side to the other and she feels both the twinges of regret and the excitement of something different, something new. It was a rash decision, if she’s going to be honest, a last-minute tack-on to her mental to-do list when she’d gone into town to run a few errands late into the morning.

The salon was just there, across the street from the market, and after tucking the groceries away in the backseat of her car and tracing the outline of scissors on the illuminated sign with her eyes over and over – her fingers drumming persistently on the top of the door all the while – she’d finally said, screw it, slammed her door shut, marched straight into the shop, and announced that she’d like a haircut, thank you very much.

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