#insane to me. like . jesus christ dude. what the fuck.
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forced to once again remember how shadow is laughing when he says "i think i figured out what the ultimate lifeform is! it might be you!"
#speaking#he says this while literally actively dying in space losing energy enough that he isn't too prideful to say straight up#that he can't last very long like this while sonic's almost every voice line has some variant of 'shadow you okay?!?!'#he just fucking. laughs. i can only imagine it's that tired exhausted manic state that makes him go 'haha ... sonic!!!'#insane to me. like . jesus christ dude. what the fuck.#i was gonna say this is an unhinged reaction to reframing your entire life and purpose but at the same time i guess he already did that#smth smth 'i have to keep my promise to maria ... and you' (dies) (im talking about myself but him too he dies too)
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four months into getting to know each other, shouto finds him by touya-nii's shrine. his little brother gently sits down beside him and offers a small prayer.
"yumi-nee-san," natsuo wonders if his little brother will ever drop the second honorific, "said you were the closest to him," shouto says quietly.
after all these years and the use of past tense still makes his heart break. 'you are the closest to him' he wants to correct but that wouldn't make sense anymore. touya-nii hasn't been talked about in the present tense since before middle school. does shouto even remember a time before nii-san's dea-, disappearance?
"yeah, i was," he says, eyes never leaving the photo. it's the one nii-san took for sixth-grade picture day. kaa-san had got him all dressed up and he had hated it. somedays he thinks if he looks close enough, he'll see the displeased pout on nii-san face. "why?"
his little brother says nothing for a long time, back ramrod straight. natsuo has no idea what's going on in that head of his. shouto has so few tells that he's practically a blank slate. natsuo hates his father.
then slowly and so quietly, he has to strain his ears to catch it, shouto stammers out, "do-, do you think he would have liked me?"
natsuo's immediate reaction is to say 'yes'. yes, of course, touya-nii would've loved you. yes, of course, touya-nii would've crossed the heavens for you. yes, of course, he would've loved you shouto; you're his precious younger brother.
but he remembers the way nii-san used to spit out shouto's name when he was a kid. the way his brother's mouth wrapped around it, the face he made, like he had just eaten something disgusting. he remembers the way touya-nii had become almost crazed by the end, hellbent on proving himself the rightful heir to their shitty father's legacy. he remembers the way touya-nii had said, "i just need to prove that i'm better than him,"; the 'him' said with such bitterness and contempt.
he knows instantly that touya-nii would not have liked shouto. that this house and his father would have twisted any ounce of love, nii-san would've held towards shouto, into jealousy and hatred.
(this house may have ruined all of them but it only ever broke two of them.)
natsuo can't say any of that to shouto. his kind little brother who forgave him for not being there. his amazing little brother who falls in love with every cat he sees. his wonderful little brother who has a wickedly dry sense of humor. his soft baby brother who loves him and yumi-nee with a passion. his tender-hearted baby brother who still worries if his long-gone older brother would've liked him.
no, natsuo can't tell shouto that nii-san wouldn't have like him. shouto will internalize it like he does with everything else that hurts him. and there is already so much that hurts shouto, he will not add to that list. his baby brother smiles these days, nothing big like his green-haired friend, but quiet, lovely, ones all the same. shouto talks more these days. they have dinner together when natsuo is home. his baby brother laughs now. it's a miracle like nothing else in this world.
shouto is the best thing to come out of their house and natsuo will die before he ever hurts his little brother. so instead, he curls an arm around shouto's shoulders and pulls him into a loose side-hug.
"of course!" he lies cheerfully, ignoring the ache in his chest, "touya-nii would've loved you. you're his — and our —precious little brother after all. there is no universe in which he wouldn't have loved you."
the tips of his baby brother's ears go red and his pleased little answering smile makes the ache of lie go away. natsuo will tell a thousand more lies if it means shouto never stops smiling like that.
#PLEASE THEY MAKE ME INSANE!!!!#and the thing is natsuo's not wrong. touya really would've loved shouto in literally any other universe#also natsuo who fucking /adores/ his baby brother so much#shouto laughs and natsu's like: the second coming of jesus christ could not compare to this#100% natsu is shouto's overprotective brother#it's the like 15 years of suppressed older sibling instincts coming out#someone fucking looks are shou wrong and natsu's all up in their face like: what's your fuckin issue with my bro dude??#natsuo for once being thankful that he got endeavor's height and build#fuyu: i thought you said you didn't like looking like dad?#natsu: that was before i found out i could use it to intimidate people that looked a shouto wrong#fuyu: natsu you think every1 looks at shou wrong. you tried to fistfight a baby yesterday#natsu: yeah well it shouldn't have cried when shou held it. did you see how sad shou looked????#fuyu: never pegged you for a brocon to be honest#natsu: you take that back rn#todoroki shouto#todoroki natsuo#todoroki touya#todoroki fuyumi#todoroki family#bnha
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i ended up having a like. 30 minute conversation with some of those "freedom convoy" people. was at the bus stop. they were wearing trump hats. i ended up roped into the conversation because i was so taken aback at seeing one in public i was just. staring at it. ive never felt more depressed about someone elses life and beliefs than when i talked to them.
#they fucking. tokd me about the litterboxes in schools for kids identifying as cats and i had to#break it to them that that wasnt true and explained that. also explained. what its like yo be autistic. how i find it joyful#and also discussed how they believe trump has been spoken to by god and chosen to lead and how they arent christians or catholics like they#used to be but instead talk directly to him and have him inside them#and also apparently how 15 minute cities in china are used to keep people imprisoned where they are#and we arent a democracy anymore. which was so funny considering. they are participating for a party#running in the election#i gave them my perspective on being transgender and gay and watched them have like. 3 or 4 ''are we the baddies'' moments#explained what puberty blockers actually do. that surgery is paid out of peoples own pockets. that we literally only have#one doctor who can perform these surgeries and hes abt to retire#and at the end of the convo they were like ''youre so pleasant. youre really smart young lady'' and i was like ''ty? i just. read a lot'#god i hope they learned. something. or i changed some opinion. they seemed to have a more positive view of autistic people at least#i just like. fuck dude. these fuckin right wing grifters are ruining these peoples lives.#the lady has been unemployeed since covid cos she got sucked into this antivax stuff and now theyre both financially unstable#perfect targets for tamaki and the freedoms people who were known for squeezing money out of people through bogus religious stuff#those two have been twisted into just. hateful and scared and are saying the most. insane shit and they dont even realize it.#and the worst part of it was the amount of young people there. so many people my age just deluded into this nonsense.#and kids JESUS CHRIST so many kids holding signs about ''protecting the kiwi way of life'' like bro every single thing#you are getting upset about an imported culture war. you arent threatened by this shit.#youve latched onto american culture war stuff because youre insecure in your whiteness and existence in a colonial country#its so fucking evil.
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FUCK YOUR FATHER FUCK YOUR FATHER FUVK YOUR FATHWR FU--
#final one tonight (and the one i was looking for when i found the other one i was initially looking for)#(in my. fucking. folder.)#this has to be book 1??? i'm certain it is (shot taken revisiting prev books)#still like. this is so fuvked up. like. it's been so long and so it's easy to forget (esp w gustav being canonically dead now)#but like. imagine having a parent who refuses to fucking talk to you in your own fucking house#just cause they disagree w a choice you made.#and like as i say that i know for some people they don't have to imagine. severely fucked up and i'm so sorry.#UGH..... IT'S JUST...... SO UNFATHOMABLY CRUEL.#oh but he's just strict. a stern father figure. dude shut up i'm gonna throw up LMFAOOOOO#also not to be queer about it but oh my god. holy shit. oh my fucking god. jesus fucking christ. FUCK#there are many reasons alfonse fire emblem makes me insane and unwell and this js one of them#to me he's like. def queer but not in a way where it's visible. heavily influenced/defined by his agab and how he was raised due to it.#he has Just Enough things going for him to make it so he has done Everything Right.#and yet. that does not free him from SO many horrors. in a way he's punished for it. but it's all he's ever known.#it's normal. he's normal. everything is normal. this is just how it's supposed to be.#i'm going to chew on his arm. gnaw at his fuvking shoulders. have him sit on my lap and be held.#for once in his fuckinh life.#what thw fuck ever man!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! EXPLODE ‼️‼️‼️💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥#fe alfonse
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something that makes me feel guilty is the fact that seeing that persons face rn literally makes me angry. they walked into class and i nearly winced. and in all fairness they were quite kind to me. outside of the several kind of odd red flags. girl whatever. to be quite frank i am a horny bastard and vocal proud etc but few people interest me enough to actually want to hang out with and get to know And i have deep seated intimacy issues so it's like. we really dont have a shot unless the circumstances r exactly right on a full moon perfect thursday of a month etc like. well and tbh i probably would have fucked around with this person but i dont... care... about some big relationship w them.. and i know i could be a relationship girl like eventually i have it in me to have a muse that's what im built for i think idc but not rn... rn i need to hang out with my friends and do my film stuff and have people that maybe wanna make out sometimes is that so much to ask for. for a lesbian at a bar to want to make out perhaps. ** for there to be lesbians at the bars to potentially make out with.
#and i am quite lonely yes thank u for asking. yeah someday id love to get to know someone again in the context of falling in love#what about it. so what now. i dont think im meant for our understanding of romantic love but boy do i crave it#why am i having this moment rn. well ok consider im on my period all i could think about this morning was [redacted] and both parties#of my dyke drama were back in class today. and the one gay person that i think has a crush on me but we dont see each other super often#so im just. guessing based on the way awkward lesbians communicate. idk#and i feel really just mean but i quite literally dont have it in me to pretend to be nice to this person anymore#i wasnt like. some villain for realizing we were acting really coupley and being like oh shit because i didnt want to hurt them#. and trying to communicate and put some distance between us when i thought they were probably in too deep. it's unfortch it took me a sec#but jesus christ yk i cant walk around and feel awkward about it forever. and im frustrated by the fact that we're just acting so odd#but again frankly i think it's largely bc they have an unhealthy relationship with dating. THROWING HORIZONTAL PUNCHES HERE.#OK. STONES FROM A GLASS HOUSE. IM AWARE. REAL RECOGNIZES REAL.#and YET. despite my past insanity. ive been kind. i can understand disappointment and a little awkwardness#but jesus would you rather i pretend to be in love with you for months and then really break your heart.#this is where i get mean and make a joke like well hey if we couldve had weird really mediocre sad angry dyke sex abt it#that would have been cool with me. but alas. we're here instead and it's fucking with my friendships too#and like we were kind of ok friends too. what now. its just u me and this brick wall u built between us bitch#now was EYE not answering texts for a minute. we dont need to get into it.#because the thing IS if i dont play things exactly right. and im not good at that without prior planning. i will accidentally say or do#something that i know. again. from being insane myself. would be just enough for them to hold onto hope#and im not trying to do that to them you know. i was trying to help with the detachment. shitty as it may be. i dont fucking know dude#this post is going to make me look kind of. well. whatever u guys have seen me at my worst. mostly. and post#ok one last thing sorry if this makes me sound like i have a giant ego. like wow heres this person who really liked me and im just shitting#all over them. not what im meaning to do but whatever
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VERY dramatic tags
#skin picking cw#self harm due to prev cw#i’m noticing like. pits in my face thatll scar.#i have bio oil and stuff and accutane apprently .. improves scarring. so its not over for me yet#but jesus fucking christ#looking the mirror and seeing tiny little pits in my face where i’ve opened it up????#dude the amount of BLOOD and i just keep going i feel so fucking insane and helpless??#and i hate it because i know. i’m NOT . its NY HANDS !!!! TONY YOU CHOSE TO DO THAT#i feel like my#normal support systems are. exhausted by me . or i’m afraid they are. or i know they are and also dont blame them!!! cos like#how many times can you support someone when they come and say ‘umm hehehe i did it again’#i dont wanna put ppl thru that. but as a result i feel so fucking lonely and ashamed#i keep talkign to therapists about it but i feel like they give me nothinng#i’m just trying to get thru accutane at this point#but i’m so scared i’ll scar my face badly. because its avoidable. its completely avoidable. i feel crazy#sorry this is so . intense i just dont know what to DO with all these feelings or how to liek?? process them???#and idek why feeling alone is a problem. i wish i could handle things myself but idek if i’m built like that. i dunno
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me 🤝 mike
trying to make ourselves like girls
#ih and internalized transphobia has an unusually strong grip on me the past few days I’ll be normal soon#anyway working on my current analysis…. the butterfly imagery around Mike makes me INSANE#the duffers really said ‘we are going to show that Mike is trying to make himself like girls & that other people are trying to make him like#girls by paralleling it to some stuff in one of the most horrifying ways possible’ like they rlly. did that#cannot wait to elaborate on this in the analysis because……. now that I Know what the butterflies mean for Mike…… head in hands#LIKE THE DUFFERS JUST COULDNT HAVE DONE IT ANY OTHER WAY HUH??? like it makes sense and it’s lowkey brilliant but. Jesus Christ that’s dark#I’ll explain the full thing in the analysis so this probably doesn’t make sense without the contex but just like. damn#like yes 99% of the time I love being gay but also…. we rlly do live in society…. and then medical transitioning is stressful#like I’m doing it but like. time. money. fear of surgery yk#don’t mind me ranting but like. the ‘trying to make urself’ like girls thing with Mike hits me like a brick every time bc while I Know#lesbians do Not have it easy & im not saying they do but growing up I knew that with where I lived etc while being a lesbian would’ve been#looked down on compared to being straight it wouldn’t have been seen as nearly as ‘bad’ as being trans yk#like that’s just the case for my circumstances and just. even trying to force myself to be bi and feeling like I Had to be into girls bc no#guy would ever take me seriously as a guy and that dudes were supposed to be into girls and if I wasn’t then I was just actually a straight#woman/not queer at all and just. a whole fucking mess like seriously I spent so long Trying to be into girls both as a girl and as a guy
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me when I find out the person who ghosted me is pretending to be a Russian forensic pathology student who switched to theoretical physics with a minor in mathematics
when she told me she was an Australian mechanical engineering student with a minor in art then switched to nuclear engineering
#WITH A DOG THAT SHE TOLD ME WAS NAMED KUK RI AND SHE POSTED HIM ON THE SERVER UNDER THE NAME T.O.L.STY#oh my fucking god#dude I'm ready to toss my fucking#dude i am about to experience a#WHAT AM I EXPERIENCING JESUS CHRIST HOW CAN A PATHOLOGICAL LIAR???? EXIST???#I MASTURBATED WITH THIS PERSON#dude there are so many things I'm in disbelief over#im this close to laughing but rest assured it's in fucking fear#i feel like im the target of a very specific social experiment#i feel lightheaded#I had to fact check so many things#the only thing I'm sure about her is that she has a coconut allergy#COME HERE BITCH IM GOING TO SMASH YOU WITH A COCONUT HUSK IF YOU LIED ABOUT THAT REST ASSURED IM STILL SMASHING YOUR FACE#dude what the fuck#dude this is so messed jp#genuinely think im in some kind of simulation#are you actually the youngest sibling of six brothers#i am processing this and there is no solid thought#this is so fucking stressful im going to play flight rising#i asked my court if they wanted an update but i want to retract it now because there is no way i can explain all this and not sound insane#i thought i was one step ahead but. i don't want to do this anymore#go the fuck ahead you're running in circles#this isn't even a bruh moment what the fuck is wrong with you#I'm going to assume everything you told me was a lie
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imagine like a true crime documentary on percy jackson like
"so this kid and his mom just disappeared one night, car crashed, blood on the scene no bodies"
"oh my god"
"his stepfather believed he was responsible for the whole thing. mind you this kid was TWELEVE"
"that sounds nuts honestly"
"right? so this kid and his mom go missing, step-dad blames him. kid turns up near New Jersey and a bus explodes."
"shut the fuck up? do they have photos of it?"
"yeah, so a tourist snapped his photo because he recognized him from the missing person's report. by the way, this kid's rap sheet is... it's insane. six schools six years. he was expelled the day of the disappearance."
"seriously?!"
"Yeah, I reached out to the school, but they had no further comment. so 5 shows up AGAIN, saint Louis Arch, another explosion. he FELL from the top of the arch."
"how the fuck did he survive that, what the hell?"
"I have no idea, but a family of three saw him jump from the top into the Mississippi."
"That’s insane."
"It gets more insane; so he shows up on a beach near Los Angeles, right after those major earthquakes? He and the two kids he was traveling with, I forgot to mention there are two other children in this story, but their identities have never been revealed."
"That is wild."
"Yeah! The Coast Guard drops them off because they were just... in the ocean."
"How on earth would three kids get there?"
"Some theories are they got swept out when the earthquake hit, they managed to cling to a buoy and wait for rescue."
"They were that far out?"
"Apperently!! So anyway, they get onto the beach. This dude in a trench coat starts blasting at them with a shotgun."
"Jesus Christ."
"And this kid somehow gets another gun, and they just have a shoot out on the beach."
"holy shit."
"Holy shit is right. The big guy manages to hit an exposed gas line from the earthquake, explodes like three cop cars, and by some miracle, no casualties."
"That is so lucky."
"YEAh! So it was determined that this dude orchestrated the whole thing! He was seen by waitresses in Denver outside of a diner, THREATENING all three kids."
"Really? fuck this guy that kid is a hero."
"He really is."
"So did they ever arrest him?"
"That’s what's so fucked up. They never found him."
"Are you effing kidding me?"
"Thatwhat I said when I read that like? Hello? big dude with a gun kidnapped 4 people. but that isn't the most confusing part of the story."
"Really?"
"So far, I haven't mentioned his mother and Step-father again. She turns up in their apartment."
"Just turns up?"
"She just turns up. but you know what? the step-father is reported missing."
"no fucking way dude"
"yes! and we still don't know what happened to him to this day."
【This podcast is sponsored by Monster Donut online delivery! watch to the end to get our discount code for 40% off of any monster donut purchase!】
honestly I would listen to it.
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part two to this little thing 'cause i saw these tags on the last part from @stevesjester and actually kicked my feet and giggled about it
After Pretty Boy kissed him, Eddie walked back to the staff break room in a daze.
His slow lumbering gait still managed to scare some folks, though, so that’s a plus.
He opens the door, slowly turns to close it softly, and leans back against it once it is.
“Eddie? You okay?” Comes a voice he’d know anywhere. “Wait, that is you, right? You’re supposed to be Piggy Man tonight?”
Eddie pulls the rubber mask off, making his stomach flip thinking about the last time it was pulled up. You know, ‘cause he’s a sap.
Chrissy takes in his shocked, sweaty face, “Oh my god, you okay? What happened?”
He looks up at his roommate (best friend, sister) in her bloody cheerleader costume, an ironic holdout from their time in high school, and breathes a laugh, “I fell in love.”
“OMG OMG tell me everything right now!!” Chrissy bounces over to him excitedly and pulls him down to the bench of their one (1) break table, a sagging plastic picnic table.
He looks up at her bright happy face and barks out a half hysterical laugh, “I can’t believe you’re this excited about me potentially falling in love with someone I’m literally being paid to scare.”
“Oooh, so they were a runner??”
“Yeah, literally in this case.”
“Start talking, Munson, or I’m going to throw all your guitar picks down the garbage disposal.”
“Okay, okay, Jesus Christ.. Okay, so I did my usual creepy husky voice at him, called him all the usual things,”
“Let me guess, you started with ‘pretty boy’?”
“Yeah. ‘Cause he’s pretty. Duh. Damn was he pretty…”
“Uh huh. And you fell in love with him ‘cause he was pretty?”
“No, no of course not, listen to this:” Eddie sits up straighter in preparation for the story. “I had him backed into a corner, right? The fake gate over in section 2B,”
“Ah yes, of course.”
“Yeah! And when I lunged at him, he caught my arm, and spun me around.”
“Shut. Up.”
“No, never. SO he’s got me backed against the fence, and he–I swear to fucking Jesus H. Christ–lifts my mask up and kisses me.”
Chrissy starts to squeal incoherently. “Eeeeee!!! Shutupshutupshutup!! Holy shit there’s no way this happened!!”
“Look, 100% serious right now; he kissed me stupid, and spun around and booked it again.”
“Pretty Boy distracted you with a kiss to escape!?! I cannot believe this, c’mon..” Crissy grabs ahold of his arm again and pulls him out of the breakroom with her insane unchecked leftover cheer squad strength.
“Whoa, what? Where’re we going?? He’s probably gone by now! I was standing over in 2B like an idiot for a while after he left!!”
“Not that, we gotta go see Argyle.”
“Argyle why—ohhh shit. Oh my god, you think they caught it on camera?” Eddie’s actively following her now.
The two burst into the warehouses’ security office, where they’re met with the backs of two ‘zombie’ guards (and the leftover smell of weed).
“Argyle, Jonathan, you need to look at something for us,”
“Is it the footage of Eddie’s makeout sesh in 2B? ‘Cause we’re waaayy ahead of you pompom.”
“Ah!! Holy shit he was telling the truth?!” Chrissy bodies between the two, sending Argyle rolling away on his chair, and Jonathan staggering back a step.
“Dude, that’s so cool of your boyfriend to come to the haunt, keepin’ us in business.” Argyle directs at Eddie, though still spinning slowly in his chair.
“He’s not my–you thought he was my boyfriend?”
“Yeah man, why else would you look at him like that.” Jonathan points down at the screen.
Chrissy re-winds it again and Eddie watches himself charge forward at Pretty Boy (damn, he’s still pretty though this grainy footage too, how the fuck is that possible??), get spun and–oh shit, they’re right.
“Oh Jesus Christ.” he hangs his head into his hands, falling down into Jonathan’s previously abandoned chair.
“Sooo…he’s not your boyfriend..?”
Chrissy re-winds the footage again. Squeals happily.
“Nope. Just met him tonight.”
“Wow dude, that’s like, love at first sight if I ever saw it.”
She re-winds it again, squeals.
“Yeah I know, it’s embarrassing as shit, alright?” Eddie’s still talking into his palms.
Chrissy snorts at that, “Not for you! Well..kinda..but him too, did you not see that pause?”
“...What pause?”
His question goes unanswered as Jon and Argyle move back in over Chrissy’s shoulders and after a few seconds both “Ohh…” in sync.
“The fuck’re you talking about?”
“Look,” She re-winds the tape once again and points, “Watch after he lifts your mask.”
So he does, and..okay, there was a pause.
“...So?”
“He totally fell in love with you at the same time you did him. Fell with him. With each other?”
“You both fell in love at the same time.” Chrissy says what Jonathan was trying to. “We have GOT to find this guy somehow.”
Chrissy records the footage on the screen with her phone, intending to post it online to find the guy, but Argyle’s positive he’s gonna show back up tonight.
“Give him a chance, pompom, he’s totally in love too, remember?”
“Fine, but if he doesn’t come back today, I’m posting this. Maybe it’ll get us some more business too.”
“Do I get a say in this?” Eddie asks, already knowing the answer.
“No.” Yep, there it is.
So, he rolls his eyes, puts his mask back on, and finishes out the night like everything is normal and he didn’t just fall head over fuckin’ heels for a random (hot) stranger earlier.
He’s done for the night before Chrissy since she’s got a lot of that fake blood to try and wash off, so he grabs up his stuff and heads out the front, intending to wave bye to Gareth at the front counter before braving the frigid late fall wind to warm up his car (and move it closer to the entrance so Chrissy doesn't have to walk in the cold).
“See ya Ed,” Gareth calls, and he waves over his shoulder at him as he passes, his attention pulled to a blonde with a choppy bob looking in through the glass of the door, partially silhouetted by the bright ass headlights of a shiny Tesla parked behind her.
He can see the shadow of someone in the driver seat too, as he gets closer and opens the door for her, their face only partially lit up through the tinted glass by the glow of a phone screen.
She starts rambling off immediately after the door is open. “Oh my god, I thought we were too late and you were closed and I completely didn’t even realize I’d left something here when we were here earlier an–”
“Nope, no worries, ma’am, just go talk to Gareth at the front counter and he can tell you if someone turned in…whatever it is you left here.”
She says her thanks and scoots past him, and he spins quickly towards the side lot where his old Neon is parked.
He glances back when he hears the bell chime over the door, a bit delayed (probably the wind holding it open), and sees that the Tesla’s stopped beaming their headlights into the front door, that’s nice of them.
He unlocks his car and gets in, turning the engine over and cranking the heat as high as it’ll go. Once the engine stops it’s signature ‘I’m cold as fuck rn, don’t even try to move me’ rattle, he drives to the front door to wait for Chrissy, pulling in next to the burgundy Tesla.
He scrolls down TikTok for a couple minutes before a banner pops up on his screen
Chris C.: oh my holy fucking shit eddie, get your ass back inside!
Panicking, he races back in through the door, not even bothering to shut off his engine (or close his car door for that matter), thinking shiny Telsa duo is like, robbing the place or something, but as soon as he gets back in, he’s stopped dead in his tracks.
His heart’s still beating a mile a minute, but now with nerves.
Because standing infront of the counter are Chrissy (who’s actually vibrating with excitement), choppy blonde, and…
Oh fuck.
No way.
“H–hi, hi. I’m Steve, you’re Eddie right?”
He can’t help the grin that splits across his face. “Hey, pretty boy.”
thanks to @henderdads for rightfully pointing out that modern day rich boy steve would probably have a tesla <3
tagging everyone i saw in the tags of the last post that seemed interested in more/wanted to see the aftermath lmao: @bangarangdarling, @tartarusknight, @kas-eddie-munson, @wormdebut (AMAZING url btw), @vecnuthy, @perseus-notjackson, @homosexual-having-tea, @matchingbatbites, @scarcrossdlvrs, @anzelsilver, @auroraplume, @kkpwnall, @wildwildsoul, @bennys-burgers, @steveharringtonssluttywaist
#steddie#st#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve harrington x eddie munson#st ficlet#steddie ficlet#platonic hellcheer#chrissy cunningham#jonathan byers#argyle#gareth emerson#modern au#noelle writes
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Have a mini fic about Steve annotating books and Eddie finding it really hot🖤
So obviously, Eddie's a bookworm. Before he had any friends, he spent the better parts of his childhood at Hawkins Library after school and Hawkins Middle's library during any recesses and lunches. He constantly read books, this was before Wayne got him a guitar and before he got into dnd, and being a bookworm tremendously helped him fuel both of those hobbies later on. But before then? The library was like a second home to him.
And so, recently founding out that Steve reads, like a lot, is something of a revalation. It's not that Eddie thinks the guy is stupid, but he figured the guy spent time doing other productive hobbies at home. But the guy reads, and as previously mentioned, Eddie considers himself a literature connoisseur of sorts. Writing book reports and essays were one of the few things he actually excelled at in high school.
So anyway, he found out that Steve is a book nerd by finding one of Steve's books open on his bed. Not really the strangest thing that Eddie's come across in Steve's room if he's being honest, and not the biggest indicator of nerdiness, until he focuses his attention and acknowledges the bright colors sprawled across the pages.
A burst of rainbow colors underlining what Eddie guesses are his favorite parts of the story or important stuff he wanted to remember. And obviously, Eddie has to ask him about it. and Steve explains to him that he has a whole color key and it's made up of romantic lines that make him feel warm, sad stuff that makes him tear up, stuff that is word for word undoubtedly Steve Harrington sprawled on a page. Steve won't tell him which color is which, too embarrassed by it, but he lets Eddie read through them, and then he stares at Steve in unyeilding fondness.
The look reflected on Steve's is not the same, mostly anxiety and insecurity, which Eddie immediately wants to soothe. It's so so sweet he thinks but Eddie's mouth translates the words into, "That's so fucking hot." Which, shit man, it is but he hadn't meant to say it out loud.
"Shut up, dude, don't make fun of me right now."
And listen, books are everything to him, this is no joking matter. They inspire his own stories, whether through a dnd campaign or writing song lyrics. It's honestly probably the most attractive thing a person could do in Eddie's opinion, he didn't know how hot until right about now, but he'll die on this hill. Annotating your books is hot.
"Listen to me when I say this Steve, while that is the nerdiest thing I've ever heard and I'm, ya know, me. It's also about the most attractive thing that's come out of that pretty mouth of yours, like ever."
And Steve folds his arms across his fucking beautifully sculpted chest and narrows his eyes just slightly, raising a judgemental eyebrow at him.
"You're being serious."
Oh he's never been more serious about anything in his life.
"Uh...yeah? Yes. Oh my god."
Yeah, real eloquent Edward.
Whatever, his heart is pounding profuesely against his rib cage because holy shit Steve is a book nerd and Eddie wants to kiss him fucking yesterday. So he gets on all fours on Steve's bed to lean forward and basically attacks his mouth before he can even think about it.
And when he pulls back, Steve's pupils are blown wide and his breath has picked up pace, and Steve keeps bouncing between looking at Eddie's eyes and his lips.
"You just kissed me."
It comes out disbelieving.
"Yeah and with your permission I'd like to continue, like stat, immediately, now."
"You're insane."
And hands weave through curls and pull.
Eddie tumbles foward, ending fully sprawled on top of Steve, and, jesus christ, body pressed impossibly close to his.
And after they're romantic, read: nerdy horniness, little makeout session, he forces Steve to read the annotations himself, going through all the books that are important to Steve. He has to stop himself from moaning to really emphasize how hot he finds it, and to make Steve slightly embarrassed, but refrains. Just lets him continue.
Eddie has never been so in love in his life.
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HEYY
Can you do a rhea x fem!reader story where rhea and reader are in Highschool and have both had feeling for eachother for the longest time and both haven’t confessed but all that changes because rhea ask reader to prom and they end up kissing and it leads to something else (ifykyk😏) (smut n a lil bit of fluff too🙏)
Starry Prom Night
Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader
WARNINGS: 18+ SMUT, Kissing, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Scissoring, Praise, Cheek Cupping & Kissing Galore, INSANE PLOT BUILDING FOR NO REASON LOL SORRYYYYYY IM A YEARNER (im serious this is like 67% plot building)
WORD COUNT: 3,731
A/N: this is just pure sapphic yearning on my end LMAO anyways anon i had so much fun writing this even though its all over the place!!!
also can you tell where i got impatient with all the plot building lol
“Rhea, I seriously don’t know how many more of these cheesy signs I can’t take. I think I’m gonna go insane.” You grunted, rolling your eyes to the back of your head.
Prom season was in full swing. It was third period and you had just witnessed what had to have been the seventh promposal of the day. This year would be the mark of your and your best friend, Rhea’s senior prom. Senior prom was a date thousands of dreamed about, wanting to show up and show out one last time before waving goodbye to their highschool years.
Every girl except you and Rhea. You both despised the thought of prom. Why would any sane person spend hundreds of dollars on an outfit just to spend their night drenched in sweat in the school gymnasium?
Fuck that!
“Romeo O Romeo! Will thou spend your Saturday night with I, drinking punch next to the locker rooms?” Rhea mocked, elbowing your arm.
You shook your head, pressing your lips together trying to keep your laughter silent. The commotion of classmates was soon drowned out by thoughts as your eyes met Rhea’s, causing your tightened lips to curl into a small smile.
Rhea’s blue eyes never failed to warm you. Everytime you gazed into those beachy eyes you were brought back to the day you first met the girl. Seventh grade, first period, language arts. A quiet blonde girl sporting a Pierce The Veil shirt was assigned to sit next to you. Nobody knew anything about the girl besides the fact she had just moved basically across the globe. You spent the entire period thinking of what you could possibly say to her, because what do you even say to a kid that was just relocated from South Australia all the way to some shitty suburban town?
“Cool shirt.”
And it fucking worked somehow. You were immediately attached to her hip. The two of you grew closer with each day that passed. You were inseparable. She was everything to you. Sleepovers every weekend. ‘Study’ sessions that were spent play fighting with each other. Singing pop-punk songs at the top of your lungs till your throats were raw. Dying your hair the same shade of blue at three in the morning. She was even at your side while your parents scolded you the morning after for said blue hair.
Jesus Christ. Lost in her eyes again? Snap out of it already!
“Yo, Alice in Wonderland, you okay?” Rhea playfully questioned, breaking your trance by poking at your thigh.
“Just…thinking. That’s all.” You softly chuckled. You were telling the truth, you were just thinking. Just thinking about her. Thinking about her touch, her hands, her pierced nose, her lips, her stupid cool shirts.
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“Jesus, someone’s eager to get out of here.” You laughed, trailing behind Rhea who was booking it over to her small black Lexus.
“Dude, can you blame me? It’s like everyone has some sort of prom fever. I am not letting it catch me.” Rhea complained, ducking into the vehicle.
You made your way to the passenger side of the car before hopping into the seat next to Rhea. “I counted eighteen of those damn signs today.” You babbled, resting your arm on the center console before trailing on, diffusing the topic, “Anyways, let’s go thrifting or something. I don’t wanna go home.”
Rhea shrugged in agreeance before pulling out of her parking spot. She knew things were tough for you at home. You had recently come out as lesbian to your parents. They weren't unsupportive but they weren't exactly supportive at the same time which had built quite a bit of tension in the household. You came out to Rhea just about two years ago, who was more than supportive. She was your number one defender, always there to threaten whichever classmate that dared to ridicule you.
You knew absolutely nothing about Rhea’s sexuality. Hell, even Rhea knew nothing about her sexuality. She only knew one thing, that she liked you. She didn’t even know when she caught feelings for you, it was like the sentiments were there since the moment you first spoke to her. She hoped as time went on the flutters she’d feel for you would pass on but recently she couldn’t seem to even push the mere thought of you out of her head, it was killing her.
The drive to the nearest thrift shop was comfortably silent…silent if you ignored the Black Veil Brides cd Rhea had blaring…
Entering the store the pair of you let out scoffed laughs as the first thing catching your attention was a large display of second hand dresses. Shaking it out of your heads and ignoring it at first you carried on to wander the isles, grabbing whatever caught your eye to try on later although you’d inevitably end back up to the racks of long dresses. You weren't a big fan of dresses but you wanted to waste as much time as you possibly could, so you decided to browse the gowns with Rhea.
She pulled a deep maroon dress, the form fitting glittered bodice was paired with a looser, more freeing skirt. “Try it on!” Rhea pushed, shoving the dress into your arms.
“I’d look so stupid in this.” You gave Rhea a bewildered look.
“Oh c’mon just try it!”
“Rhe’ when have you ever given a shit about this stuff?”
“Dude you’re the one that wanted to waste time here…” Rhea playfully scorned, diverting your question.
“Urgh, I hate when you’re right.” You huffed, shuffling towards the dressing room.
“How ridiculous do I look?” You pouted, opening the door of the changing room before shuffling to the closest mirror.
Rhea stood behind you, peering over your shoulder as you silently studied yourself in the mirror. You looked at Rhea through the mirror as she opened her mouth to speak but stopped herself in her tracks. “I mean it’s cute but where in the world would I wear this?” You shrugged, adjusting the straps as Rhea chewed on her cheeks.
“Wear it to prom.” Rhea timidly broke her silence.
“Why would I go to prom, Rhe’? First of all it would be so lame and second of all I’d have nobody to go with. I’m just gonna put this back.” You mumbled, turning to make your way back into the changing room.
A hand grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. “Go with me…” Rhea blurted out, sounding scared of her own words. Her statement caused you to turn to face her with a puzzled expression, Rhea herself even looked surprised at what she just said. Fearing your rejection she quickly added on, “Ya know, like as a joke and stuff. We can make it not lame…”
“As a joke?” Your heart that was skipping beats just seconds ago was immediately let down.
“Yeah. It’s just a stupid idea we don’t hav-”
“No, let's go…as a joke.” You interrupted Rhea’s nervous deflection. “We’ve got nothing better to do.” You shrugged on watching Rhea’s anxieties fade into the distance as her classic cheeky smile crept upon her face.
After you swapped out of your dress you returned to Rhea who was holding up a silky black dress with a deep slit in the skirt. “This’ll work. I’m too lazy to try anything on.” She chuckled while shrugging.
“That's ballsy Rhe-Rhe.”
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Tonight was the night, you were sat atop Rhea’s bathroom counter, finishing up your makeup while Rhea was shuffling around her closet searching for a pair of shoes. It had been four weeks since Rhea ‘asked’ you to prom and you simply couldn’t keep your mind off it. Although you two planned this whole thing as a joke, something shifted ever so slightly between the two of you, maybe it wasn’t a joke, who knows. Rhea had your heart in your throat at every moment and you were the topic of every thought that popped into Rhea’s head. More than ever the both of you were head over heels for each other, just terrified the other wouldn’t reciprocate those shared feelings.
Your parents were completely unaware you’d be attending prom. You had informed them you were staying with a friend before immediately storming off to Rhea’s house. Rhea’s parents hadn’t a clue either, they were under the impression tonight would be just another night of the two of you doing nothing for hours then sneaking out to go for a drive at three in the morning. There truly wasn’t much reasoning behind this secret, you guys just wanted to have this night for yourselves without pestering parents.
“Urgh! At this point I’m gonna go barefoot!” You could hear yet another pair of shoes be tossed to the floor. You slid off Rhea’s counter, stepped out of her bathroom and over to her closet. She was already in her dress tearing through a pile of shoes on the floor. “What has gotten into you Rhe’?” You leaned against the doorframe laughing at the fact that Rhea of all people was stressing over shoes.
Rhea rolled her eyes ignoring your banter. “Would it make me a hipster if I wore converse?”
“Oh absolutely, I dare you!”
“You know I will,” Rhea retorted, picking up a black pair of the canvas shoes.
You chuckled before turning to return to the bathroom, letting Rhea know you were gonna change. You got into your dress with ease up until you came to the zipper on the back. You groaned in annoyance, reaching behind to your back attempting to wiggle the zipper to no avail.
“Rhe’, can you help me real quick?” You asked while popping your head out the door.
“Hm? What’s up?” Rhea turned around and questioned before making her way up to you, trying to keep her gaze from falling down to the hand placed on your chest, keeping the dress from completely slipping from your body.
“Zippers stuck,” You pouted, turning around. Rhea’s hand swept across the base of your neck, sweeping your hair to the side. You watched her through the mirror as she began fumbling with the metal, ultimately getting it to slide up your back.
After an awkward exchange of bashful looks the two of you finished getting ready in each other's company. You sat next to Rhea slipping into your shoes while she tied off her converse, took a handful of polaroid pictures together, then eventually snuck out Rhea’s window to begin your hike to the school.
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“Ouu! Ripley’s got a date!” Was whistled out by a classmate as you and Rhea made your way down the congested hallway, making Rhes roll her eyes.
“Shut up dickhead! We’re here as a joke.” Rhea rebutted, flipping the guy off as she carried on down the hall.
Here as a joke but her flushed cheeks and sweaty hand gripping yours told a slightly different story.
“Dickheads always running their mo-” Rhea muttered, stepping into the crowded gymnasium.
“Shh. It’s fine, you shouldn’t worry about them.” You cut off Rhea, giving her hand a squeeze as you examined the starry night themed room. The area was dimly lit by blue leds and strings of fairy lights. Blue curtains decorated with paper stars draped over the majority of the walls while an array of tables adorned with bottles of fairy lights surrounded a dance floor full of teenagers.
You both seated yourselves near the stage where a live band was playing. Your legs pressed against one another as you fell into an array of conversations. Thirty minutes had managed to sneak by before your meaningless conversation was cut short by your biology teacher.
“You girls gonna sit here and chat all night? Go dance!”
“But dancing is lame, Mr. Brown.” Rhea groaned while you both turned to face the man.
“I promise you that in ten years you’ll regret not doing anything at your senior prom. Seriously, go dance!” Your teacher stood behind you giving his words of advice. Rhea peeked over to you looking for your opinion. You gave her a ‘why not’ shrug before rising from your seat.
“But I don't even know how to slow dance.” Rhea whined to herself under her breath as she stood up. “If we have to dance, we’re dancing in the corner cause I’m gonna look stupid.” She stipulated.
You guided Rhea over to a secluded section of the dance floor near a wall, reassuring her that you also had no clue on what you were doing.
“We’ll just do what everyone else is doing, Rhe’.”
“I think this right,” Rhea unassuredly giggled with a racing heart, taking a hold of your left hand while wrapping her free hand around your waist. You shook your hair to cover your flushing cheeks as you brought your right hand to rest on her shoulder. The pair of you began swaying to the music while trying to hold back laughter, both in slight disbelief at your current situation. Prom was the last place either of you ever expected to be attending.
You were already trailing back into the pit of those sapphire eyes, drowning out all external noise you missed Rhea humming about how beautiful you looked. You were too occupied taking in the essence of your childlike crush to take notice of the grip Rhea had on your waist tightening. You were fully prepared to stare into those eyes all night, but Rhea was eager to run a risk.
A set of warm lips fell onto you abruptly, pulling you by the waist into a desperate kiss. All five senses rushed over your body, sending a rush of adrenaline through your bloodstream, placing you in awe too shocked to move.
Rhea forced herself to pull away, letting a sigh of relief out before the panic settled in, “Shit. I, god I’m so-”
Your thoughts had just now grasped what just happened.
This was a kiss that spent years in the making…you were not just gonna let it end like that.
Your hand slipped to the back of Rhea’s head, pushing Rhea back into the kiss, forcibly putting an end to her apology. She immediately fell back into your lips, closing her dilated eyes. While her tongue slid across your bottom lip begging to deepen the kiss, her hands slid up to cup your cheeks. Time slid away as the two of you fell into each other in your isolated corner of the gymnasium.
Rhea pulled herself from your lips breathless, her parted lips forming an open smile. She wanted more. You attempted to collect your thoughts while catching your breath. Both of you were attempting to draft a response while gazing into each other, because what do you say after tasting your best friend of five years?
“Cool.” You nodded
Rhea shook her head scoffing out a laugh, still making an attempt to regulate her breath. She took grip of your hand, giving it a squeeze before beginning to pull you into the hall without speaking a word.
“Wher-”
“Just follow me!” Rhea cut you off, rushing through the halls as she dragged you behind herself, both of you trying not to stumble over your dresses.
She halted in front of the nurses office before fiddling with the keypad on the door, “God bless modern technology,” She muttered, managing to get the door open as you watched in disbelief. “Don’t even ask.” She chuckled, scanning the hall to make sure you were in the clear before tugging you into the room.
Once Rhea’s foot forced the door shut her lips directly got to work pinning themselves to your neck, nipping at the delicate skin.
“Shit Rhe’, there might be cameras.” You pushed through a stunned whine.
“There's none…” Rhea couldn't even pull her lips away from your skin as she spoke, “Wouldn't stop me either way, I’ve waited too long for this.” She grunted, dragging her kisses to your collarbone. “Now please tell me I can keep going.”
“I don’t think I could ever tell you to stop.” You pulled Rhea’s face to meet your eyes, whispering your confession. There was no need for Rhea to open her mouth, the look on her face alone told you that was exactly what she needed to hear.
“You have no fucking clue how long I’ve waited for this.” Rhea growled, grasping your cheeks as she pulled you over to the nurses twin sized treatment bed.
She brought her legs to straddle over you, lowering her chest to hover over you. Rhea was attached to you like a dog, her lips were sloppy against yours as her hands snuck to pull up the skirt of your dress.
Rhea brought herself between your legs, in a rush to finally get a taste of your core.
“Please…I’m begging you, please don't make me wait more than I already have.” Rhea looked up at you pleading.
Your heart was in your throat as you fervently nodded. “I wanna hear your voice,” Rhea begged, whispering out your name.
“Rhea, please just do anything, I need, I need you.”
With that said she hurriedly slid your panties down your legs, tossing them to the foot of the bed. Rhea was making it clear that tonight was her time to shine.
“Fuck, you’re perfect…” Rhea murmured, awed at the sight of your soaked cunt. Her arms tangled themselves around your legs. After years her tongue finally made contact with your delicacy, she preached a string of curses, finally getting what she was after. You propped yourself on your elbows to catch the sight of Rhea exploring your brand new world. You could feel a smirk between your legs as her eyes met yours, thirstily watching you watch.
“Tastes so good.” Rhea praised, sweeping her tongue through your folds before bringing herself to round your clit. You chewed on your cheeks to hush the moans escaping your throat as Rhea wrapped her lips around your sensitivity, allowing her to lightly suck at your skin. Your legs made an unsuccessful attempt at wrapping around Rhea’s head only to be overtaken by her hands, prying them open, giving her full access to devour your aching heat.
The stealthy addition of two fingers into your emptiness was only amplifying the wobbly knees her mouth alone had created. Her fingers began steadily massaging into you, causing an arch to form over your back. The mixture of Rhea’s roaming tongue and grinding digits already had a knot forming in your stomach.
“Fucking Christ Rhe’, where the fuck did you learn all this.” You struggled out through moans. Rhea let out a soft chuckle as she continued to take your clit into her mouth, rolling her tongue piercing over your sensitivity.
Rhea gave your cunt one last kiss before she brought herself to face you. Now that Rhea had finally gotten a taste of your mouth she couldn't get enough, she had to return for more. Your lips once again blended together, your moans now slipping into Rhea’s mouth as her fingers curled inside your core.
“God, you sound so beautiful.” Rhea admired, pressing her warmed forehead against yours while her digits continued toying with your clenching walls. Her thumb was soon added to the mixture of pleasure as it rubbed rhythmic circles over your bud.
“Rhe’, I want to feel you against me,” You opened your eyes, pulling from her kiss while your hips rolled against her working digits. “Please.”
Rhea nodded, her eyes full of adoration, she’d do whatever it took to please you no matter if it took minutes or hours. She let her fingers come to a declined pace before withdrawing from your warmth. She stood up, licking her fingers clean before riding her dress up her legs and dropping her panties. She rushed to return to the bed pulling your leg into the air before propping a leg of hers next to your hip.
Rhea settled her heat against yours, letting out a heavy breath. She gradually started rocking her hips against you, mixing your slick together. You watched as the new sensation of pleasure washed over her, causing her jaw to drop open and her eyes to roll to the back of her head.
“Just…just like that.” You whimpered as you began to grind your hips at a matching pace, chasing towards your climax. Rhea’s arm clung to your leg that was situated in the air for support as the sound of quiet moans and the rustling of dress fabric bounced around the room.
“Feels so good, fuck.” Rhea quickened her motions, moaning out the nickname she created for you through heavy breaths.Rhea pushed herself further against you chasing her own high as you squirmed beneath her grinds.
“Rhe’, I’m gonna cum.” You whined out, reaching for a hand to cling to. Her hand met you halfway, instantly taking you into her grip she pulled you up to meet her face. She was back to those oh-so passionate kisses she could now never get enough of. “Please, Rhe’!” You cried against her, her movements bucking against your cunt.
Rhea nodded into your kiss signaling for your release, her own climax just seconds away. Your series of moans brushed against Rhea’s lips as your orgasm washed over you, hers quickly following. Muffled whines echoed around the room as Rhea’s thrusts against you faltered.
After riding out your highs together, Rhea squeezed herself next to you on the tiny bed and rested her hand on your thigh, giving it a soft squeeze. “I swear to god if you say cool.” Rhea looked over at you giggling.
“Unfair!” You joked, resting your head against Rhea’s chest. You both fell into silence simply taking in the moment, reflecting on everything that had just happened. Rhea peppered small kisses to the top of your head as you toyed with the fabric of her dress.
“We should probably get outta here before somebody finds us.” Rhea suggested, breaking the silence.
“Wanna go dance again?” You teased as you turned to face her.
Rhea quickly shook her head, “I’m never gonna dance again. I was so bad.” She laughed, “How about we go find a parking lot and makeout under the stars, hm?”
“I seriously would have never expected you to be all smoochy, Rhe’.”
“Look, I have like five years of kisses to make up for!”
#this one is such a mess sorry lol#i fear i yearned too much#rhea ripley smut#rhea ripley fanfic#rhea ripley#rhea ripley oneshot#rhea ripley x reader#rhea ripley fluff#rhea ripley fanfiction#wwe x reader#wwe smut
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munkuposting (metastrap?) for the jellinclined (i am so sorry)
you tell me i'm insane but i know my truth and my truth is that munkustrap wants to help her. he wants to reach out and help her up like he just helped jennyanydots during her song. he leans down and it's not just so he can look at her better. it's not just cause there's no point to his defensive stance here except for her to see, for him to communicate she's unwanted, and he knows it. shit dude the guy can't look her in the eyes for longer than 5 seconds.
like come on. munkustrap's running after old deuteronomy and the rest of the older/less agile cats so much in this goddamn film he might as well be Munkustrap the Mobility Aid Cat. man knows what he wants in life and that's going on as many walks with senior citizens hanging off his arm as physically possible and neither god nor the heaviside layer will stand in his way.
his responsibility's a whole different thing, though. look at the lad puffing up when grizabella shows up. that's a guard he uses against perceived threats like macavity and it's well and warranted then, but what in the name of ye olde cat gods is the old lady gonna do? garbage stink them all to death? it's performative as hell on purpose. both of them know she's not gonna jump him and he doesn't need to protect himself or his fellow cats from her physically.
in the macavity scares, odd as it might look on a person, The MunkuStance™ is a genuine threat. he's up above everyone else or he's one of the few cats on the stage, he's spreading himself out to look bigger, he HISSES lmao.
look at the lad. hissssss lmao i love him.
not only is he saying i won't hesitate bitch he's also establishing himself as The Guy You Fight. if you're an outsider looking in, you're probably not gonna notice Mr Mistoffelees Scampering Through The Pipes Again, but you sure as hell are gonna see the Snarling Tabby Fresh From Hell hopping around in the middle of the stage with his legs 16 kilometers apart at all times. and okay, doing that for the entire musical sure is a Choice, but it's a Character Choice, and mr michael gruber the man you are. the star that you are. i want to send him flowers and chocolate and a card. i would greatly like to do that.
with grizabella though? jesus christ she's about as threatening as a patchy sock. it's not even his first instinct to go Tall Big Puffy when he's trailing after her because there's genuinely nothing to defend against there.
he just sort of slowly stands into it as though he's forgotten he was supposed to be Protecting for a second. the stance, the threat, all that's only there to set a dynamic. it's there to say you're not one of us, we don't like you, please go away, but he's half-assing it so much it loses all its i won't hesitate bitch and turns into i have never hesitated so hard in my entire life. he still establishes himself as The Guy You Fight, but it's obvious grizabella isn't about to fight anyone, so now he's just The Guy She's Staring In Incredulous Longing At, and he can't even hold her gaze for long enough to pretend it's not getting to him because at his core he's not a bad person and he knows that all this is kind of a Dick Move.
this is what makes munkustrap so dummy god tier as a character to me. he may wish he could help grizabella. hell he may even want her back, if not as openly as old deuteronomy does. when all the cats scuttle away and turn their backs to grizabella before memory reprise, munkustrap never even fucking bothers ?? like he's straight up just watching her, and then later watching old deuteronomy watch her like with the most somber wee eyebrows up so can we finally do something about this expression i've ever seen on a performer lmao.
but that means nothing without the approval of the entire tribe! absolutely nothing! because munkustrap, in that regard, is exactly like old deuteronomy: what he wants comes second to what the jellicles want. it's harder to see in him because old deuteronomy is mostly up on the tire being cat jesus and munkustrap mingles with the rest of the ensemble way more, but it's really obvious when you look. they defer to his leadership, but he defers to their collective decisions.
he moves mistoffelees away from grizabella (just like the rest of the older cats) because mistoffelees doesn't know any better and grizabella is untouchable, but then he stalls and waits when demeter reaches out to her. like, i'm pretty sure he would've just let her touch grizabella right then and there. had demeter been a little less aware of the fact that this was the first 30 minutes of the musical, i'm pretty sure she would've just taken grizabella back in right then and there and memory wouldn't have even been necessary. munkustrap sure wasn't about to do shit about it.
he's actively leaning back to give her space!! (i know logistically that it's mr michael giving an opening for ms aeva to execute her Conflicted Scuttle Away but munkustrap is still leaning back however you put it so i'm right automatically. haw yee)
i'm fascinated by it specifically because this way it's almost as though munkustrap is an extension of the jellicle collective, if that makes sense. obviously he's the narrator so we can't give him a complex emotional storyline if we want to keep the aryas in single digits, but in turn this means that now he's a character who chooses to forgo his own feelings in favour of those of his community, and that's just, man, that's just. man. ca(s)t of all time for real. a guardian and a weapon and a storyteller and a teacher and not one of those for his own sake. Man.
tl;dr, old deuteronomy can be hella proud of his kid, and i can eventually stop crying. also here are the gifs of him finally getting to comfort grizabella a little. experience emotions with me.
unfortunately i have similar (if slightly less rambling) thoughts on tugger and why he's constantly being such a massive cunt to grizabella lmao. if you guys are unfortunate enough i may subject myself to the giffing and writing of that post too. toodlepip ✌️
#jellicle cats#cats 1998#cats the musical#munkustrap#grizabella#cilly.txt#because lets be honest this isnt much in terms of art or writing lmao#woe. long post be upon ye#but tumblr usually shortens these one these days anyway
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part one.
[19:12]
.
.
.
suna thinks he's lost his mind. or maybe, you've taken all his senses with you when you left that night. maybe he's slowly going crazy—sort of like the main character of that one show you love to watch. the schizophrenic lady slowly losing her senses but not understanding what's going on.
perhaps calling himself crazy would be an overstatement. but you had him confused and dazed, nonetheless.
he thinks he's done something wrong. but he doesn't know what it is. why else would you leave in the middle of the fucking night after the things you two had done together? he's sitting in the living room, one hand in his hair and phone in the other. he's texting osamu, telling him about your amorous endeavors from that night. it had been roughly two weeks since then. and if he was correct(and not borderline insane), you hated his guts.
he wasn't sure why, though. had he not performed well? when the two of you had done "it", did he not please you? what was the issue here? you didn't sound like you hated it, in fact, you sounded quite the opposite throughout.
his phone rings. it's osamu.
"hey-"
"you did what with [y/n]?!" suna has to move the phone away from his ears for that one. his eyebrows knot as he puts the call on speaker, not understanding why osamu of all people is having such an outburst. it's usually atsumu who's the annoying one with no sense of rationality.
"we um," rintarō's face flushes red. he even hides his face with his palms, even though his grey-haired best friend can't see him, "we had sex."
"oh my fuckin' god," the younger miya twin throws more profanities on the phone, but rintarō chooses to tune them out. but then osamu continues, "do ya even know what ya've done? are ya stupid? do ya have no common-fucking-sense? sunarin, for fuck's sake, how can ya be less emotionally intelligent than a fuckin' celery?"
"stop swearing at me, you jackass!" the middle-blocker picks up his phone, almost yelling into it. he then narrows his eyes, lips pursed as he asks, "what exactly did i do wrong?"
"ya do fuckin' realize," suna assumes what osamu's doing is taking a bite out of an apple between his sentences, "ya had a girlfriend a month ago. a pretty fuckin' serious one, at that."
"oh," suna's train of thought stops. oh, shit. fuck, fuck, fuck. what the hell had he done? oh my god.
"yeah, 'oh'. what the bloody hell were ya thinking?" osamu swears again. but this time, rintarō thinks he might've deserved it. all of it. you ignoring him, osamu swearing at him, that nagging feeling at the back of his throat. and that pang in his chest when you left with your things at four o'clock in the fucking morning.
"ya do realize, [y/n] prolly feels more like shit than you do. they haven't spoken to me or 'tsumu after that night. i thought they dropped off the face of the earth until akaashi-san said they were havin' some kinda crisis so they were busy. turns out [y/n] hasn't been showin' up for lectures either," osamu drones on for a few minutes. then it strikes suna. he hadn't even bothered to give you an explanation about why he broke up with his girlfriend.
or actually, she broke up with him. because of you. his mind wavers at the memories of that night where she called him to the local diner to tell him off. she even told everyone it was a mutual break-up and that it didn't work out. he was just glad she fell out of love with him before he accidentally broke her heart. she had every right to do what she did. he was a total, complete twat who didn't know what he was doing. he had hurt so many people, because in actuality, he was just as emotionally stupid as atsumu.
to be honest, even atsumu isn't this stupid. suna has to give that guy some credit.
"what do you even feel about [y/n], sunarin? do ya like them? or didja use them 'cause you were bored 'n wanted ta get yer dick wet?" the accusation makes the middle-blocker wince.
"jesus christ, give me some credit, dude. of course i like them. you know, i never told any of you this, but michi broke up with me because of [y/n]."
"wait, hold on, what? what the fuck?"
"yeah, um," suna hates admitting that he's wrong. gosh, he has to, though. he's done enough. he doesn't want to hurt you any longer, "apparently, i was in love with [y/n] all along and didn't know it."
"oh my god," osamu literally gives up. rintarō can hear his friend facepalm through the phone, "yer such a screwed up person, man. didja even bother telling them this?"
"about that-"
"ya didn't tell 'em. wow. what else could i expect from someone with the emotional range of a fuckin' goldfish? just cut the damn call, already. i got shit to do. and go tell [y/n] all of this or i'll break yer legs the next time i see ya." beep, beep, beep.
he actually ended the call himself. huh, suna thinks to himself. but then he tosses his phone into the pocket of his sweats, pulls on a hoodie, and leaves his apartment.
he's not coming back without making it up to you. no fucking way. all the while that he's driving to your place, he curses at himself for being such a complete and utter dunce. and when he finally stands outside your door, his hands are sweaty and shaking. he's never even been this nervous for a match.
he knocks thrice. dum, dum, dum. then twice, dum, dum. then once, dum.
this was how you guys had communicated in high school. when something went terribly wrong and you needed each other's company. three, two, one. slowly. this was how he'd knocked on the door of the broom closet after school when you were inside having a panic attack. it was how you'd knocked on his bedroom door after they'd lost the match to karasuno in second year.
"go away, rin," you croaked from the inside, "i don't wanna see you."
"'course you don't. i'm an asshole," he says, "but i know where the spare key is and i'll trespass on you if you don't open this door right now."
the door opens a mere second later. you stand there in an oversized tee and shorts, hair a complete mess and eyes glassy. your under-eyes had swollen up too. this was all... because of him?
"the fuck do you want now? more sex?" you ask crudely. he almost scoffs, but he's clearly in the wrong here. you were his best friend. you had the right to abuse him like this because he'd used you. hell, you should be saying more than things like this.
"i'm sorry," he tries to hold your hand, but you move away from him. he feels his heart crack and his throat close up, but he continues, "do you know why michi and i broke up?"
"oh god, " you scoff, "if this is why you're here. please leave."
"listen to me," he holds your shoulders. you visibly look agitated and angry. you have every right to, of course. but you have to hear this. he has to say this. he goes on, "michi left me. i didn't leave her but she left me. don't you want to know why?"
"let me guess, she got fed up with your piece-of-shit attitude?" you walk away, to the kitchen as you turn on the coffee-maker. he chases after you, grabbing you by your shoulders again. you almost push him off.
"because i love you, goddamnit!" he shakes you lightly, "do you understand? she wasn't you. she understood that from the very beginning! that's she why left me."
"oh," you blink slowly, drinking it in, "oh."
"'oh'? that's all you have to say?"
"oh please, rintarō," you roll your eyes, "i've been in love with you since freshman year of high-school and you didn't fucking notice. you are genuinely the most stupid person i have ever met. you know, atsumu knew from the very beginning. he's an idiot, sure, but he's actually really smart when he wants to. osamu knows too- why are you looking at me like i'm a terrorist or something?"
oh. what the heck?
"you were in love with me for five years and didn't even bother saying anything? even the fucking twins know? you do realize, this whole thing could've been avoided if you had just told me you liked me before i said okay to that date with michi a few months ago."
"hey, you don't get to come here and tell me i've done something wrong when you realized you were in love with me because michi, of all people, told you. you didn't have the balls to do that part on your own? instead, you come and sleep with me-"
"i thought that made it very clear that i liked you, come on-"
"absolutely not."
"not even a little bit?"
"no."
"oh come on," he nudges as you pour yourself coffee, "maybe a little?"
you smile. he mentally lets out a huge sigh.
"fuck you, yeah, maybe a little," you mutter. he wants to punch the air and kick it and jump around as if he's five-years-old again. because what the hell? he bickered with you and that's all it took to make you smile. holy shit, he thinks.
"go on a date with me," he slides his arms around your waist in the kitchen. you chuckle, holding back a laugh, "no."
"come on, please?" he whines into your ear, placing a chaste kiss on your shoulder, "just five minutes of your time next weekend. i promise it'll be worth it."
"five minutes?" you look back, an eyebrow raised, "you sure? i'll put a timer on my phone and everything."
"shut up," he tells you. then, you grin, "make me."
notes: then they kiss, kiss, fell in love.
© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.
#suna rintaro x reader#suna rintarō#suna rintarou x reader#suna rintaro x y/n#suna x reader#suna rintarou#suna rintaro haikyuu#suna rintaro fluff#suna rintarou fluff#suna rintarou angst#suna rintaro angst#suna fluff#suna angst#haikyu#haikyuu angst#haikyuu hurt comfort#haikyuu!! x reader#haikyuu x reader#haikyu!! x reader#haikyu x reader#hq!! x reader#hq x reader#hq angst#haikyu angst#haikyu fluff#haikyuu fluff
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DATING KURT WOULD INCLUDE. + KURT KUNKLE
masterlist. / taglist. / any request?
synopsis. what being in a relationship with Kurt would be like.
pairing. kurt kunkle x reader
genre and warnings. 18+ under cut MDNI, none gender specific, incel Kurt, fluff, gamer boyfriend trope, not canon to movie, just silly little headcanons, i honestly don't know how to tag this. | — feedback is always welcomed & don’t forget to reblog 🤍
Honestly, I can not believe that you guys convinced me to write this. You literally put a gun to my head and told me to start writing this with my black ass.
Ight come get y'all juice ig.
Kurt is the type of boyfriend who just doesn't know what to do when you show him affection, the man takes a minute to process every compliment that you give him.
"Wait...Did you just call me a pretty boy?"
"Kurt, I said that an hour ago, babe."
Your first date is going to be cheap.
I'm just being honest here, but that doesn't mean that this man wouldn't burn a hole in his pockets just to buy you whatever you want from the McDonald's dollar menu.
He will randomly just check up on you throughout the day.
Even if you're spending it together, he’ll suddenly just stop what he’s doing and analyze you for a bit.
Despite you two being in a relationship, Kurt pulls zero bitches, no matter how much he tries to present himself as this super confident guy with a super hot partner.
And because of that, he’s very inexperienced when it comes to relationships.
You have to be the one to initiate everything when it comes to your relationship.
But when you are being affectionate, you have to turn it all the way up a notch because this man is kind of dense.
You would wrap your arms around him as he sat in his gamer chair watching him play one of his silly little games.
The sound leaking from his headset as you shifted to his lap, unaffected by your presence, thinking you just wanted to cuddle.
But then you start kissing him on the collarbone...
Man's is instantly hard.
here's where it get's a little spicy...
You discover that Kurt is quite vocal during sex.
Like a modern day porn star, you cannot shut him the fuck up.
Every little touches from you makes him feel like he’s experiencing sex for the first time, every time.
It isn't that hard to please him since he’s never felt the touch of a everyone ever in his life, so you would give him the most sheet gripping, teeth clenching, knuckle biting head of his life.
Kurt has this thing with eye contact.
You have to look him in the eye while you guys are having sex or he just can’t cum.
Same with biting.
He doesn't do it to you, but he’ll burst at the seams if you tease him by sinking your teeth into any part of his body.
Do not try this with his slong.
He has accidentally hit you before the time that you tried to jump scare him.
His reflexes are insane.
Also he cries.
You have to give that man aftercare because he literally breaks down.
That post-nut clarity hits him like a ton of fucking bricks.
All he wants to do is be the little spoon and cuddle with you.
okay back to being cute again...
Whenever he wins a round, you have to kiss him.
He’ll spring from his gamer chair at the end of the round and jump onto the mattress just to steal a kiss from you.
will brag about you to the ten-year olds online that he’s playing with
“Yeah, well my partner is super freaking hot so…no im not lying dude!”
“Y/N! COME TELL THEM THAT YOU’RE TOTALLY REAL AND NOT MY MOM!”
waking up and seeing him on the game or making his little "beep boop" music in the corner of the room with the lights turned off.
“Jesus Christ Kurt, turn on the light at least you look like a serial killer.”
“Oh I'm sorry honey, I just didn't want to wake you!”
He constantly asks you for your opinion on everything.
He just can’t help it.
He just constantly wants your approval and wants to impress everyone, especially you.
Lowkey, he has this thing with taking pictures of you while you're sleeping, like his entire camera roll would be just you sleeping in random places he likes to scroll through whenever he’s bored.
You guys do fight, just not very often, but when you do, it's usually over something very serious.
“....are you mad at me Y/N?”
“You literally drove off and left me in a random fucking parking lot because of a game sale Kurt.”
Since he is very into being social media famous, you do have to bring the hammer on him sometimes to stop him from doing dangerously stupid trends.
But other than that, your relationship is usually just shits and giggles.
🔖 @quinnxmunson @lluvin @summerhornet @coralluminaryinternet @jonathansmalewife (for Kurt)
tap here to be added to taglist.
#[ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ ★ — t.wrks. ]#kurtsworld96#kurt kunkle#kurt kunkle x reader#kurt kunkle x you#joe keery imagines#joe keery x reader#joe keery#spree 2020#spree#slash fic#slashers#slashers x y/n#slashers x reader#slashers x you#headcanons#spree smut#kurt spree smut#kurt kunkle smut#joe keery smut#smut#fanfiction#fanfic#joe keery au#joe keery fandom#joe keery blurb#joe keery fanfic#joe keery one shot#joe keery imagine#steve harrington imagine
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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
ao3
Steve continues to trace letters onto Eddie’s palm—the only reason Eddie hasn’t called for a nurse, doctor, anyone is because Steve had fixed him with a stubbornly determined look when he went to do so, and Eddie didn’t need it spelled out to know what that meant.
Dude, let me finish.
“You’re fucking unreal,” Eddie had whispered.
Now Steve prods insistently, right in the centre of Eddie’s palm.
Eddie blinks; it takes him a moment to figure out that Steve isn’t writing a letter this time.
“…Me?” Eddie tries.
Steve’s finger drags down then up, stopping right underneath Eddie’s pinky. A checkmark. Eddie lets out a breathy laugh.
More letters. OK?
Eddie feels something within him crack. “I’m okay,” he says, tries to smile.
A circle now, sweeping round and round. Different to how Steve draws an ‘O.’ He repeats it a few times, perhaps noticing Eddie’s confusion, then spells out ‘OK?’ again.
Then it clicks and, smiling again—Christ, he hopes it looks reassuring—Eddie squeezes Steve’s hand with a sudden wave of affection.
“Everyone’s okay,” he replies, and he says it again, softer, when he feels Steve’s fingers tremble slightly. “Promise. Everyone’s okay, Steve. It’s…” He takes a deep breath. “I think it’s fucking over, man.”
Silence. No movement, no words. Just the two of them breathing, and if Eddie is feeling overwhelmed by that statement after just a week of absolute insanity, he can’t begin to imagine how Steve is taking it.
Then Steve abruptly launches back into activity, now tapping rapidly on the back of Eddie’s hand; and Eddie can practically hear the eagerness, the fucking exclamation marks in it. Tap, tap, tap!
“I’m literally right here,” Eddie says. His cheeks ache with the sudden force of his grin, but it’s a welcome kind of pain.
Steve’s finger returns to Eddie’s palm, lingers there.
?
Eddie laughs, reminded of the Lite-Brite and the impossible golden shimmers; thinking that he’d never feel such wonder again.
Steve keeps drawing the question mark until Eddie snorts. “Okay, okay, I get it! That tickles, man.”
Tap, tap, tap.
Eddie takes a deep breath. “I—uh. Shit, I don’t really know where to start.”
Steve smiles again beneath his mask. His eyes travel across the room pointedly, and Eddie can almost hear it. Start wherever. M’not exactly going anywhere.
So Eddie does. It’s a very censored version; he can’t bring himself to really talk about what happened right after Steve had… He skirts around it, says, “After you—u-um, you—”, then leaps hurriedly forward into how he stumbled across Steve’s song and all the playthroughs of it; his meeting with El, the news of Henry’s death; how the carnage caused by The Upside Down truly bleeding into their world (by Steve dying) seems to be healing, bit by bit.
He gets through all of that, and for a few minutes Steve does nothing; his eyes go a little glassy, but Eddie pushes back his initial fear—Steve’s just in deep thought, nothing sinister.
He sees Steve’s lips move ever so slightly, mouthing, “Wow.”
Eddie sighs, suddenly exhausted. “Yeah. Wow.”
Steve’s finger prods the back of his hand again.
OK?
Eddie frowns. “You already—I told you, I’m—”
But Steve doesn’t let up, his touch both gentle and insistent.
?
“Steve. I’m fine.”
?
Eddie scoffs. “I said I’m—” But there’s a familiar sharp tightness in his chest that cuts the words off, and Steve’s eyes look far too knowing, and suddenly more comes spilling out, no matter how much Eddie tries to stop himself.
While he still can’t address how Steve was… gone, he talks around the fear, talks about how he was somehow not arrested; the mythical like reappearance of Chief Hopper.
And then he talks about finding Wayne, and his throat closes up completely.
“Jesus,” he gets out eventually. “Just ignore me, man, I’m—”
Go.
Eddie stares. “What? Steve, I can’t just—”
Steve’s touch grows firmer. Go.
“No! I’m not fucking leaving you like—”
“Eddie.” It’s the weakest of whispers, Steve’s voice splintering with every syllable. “Go… see him.”
Eddie shakes his head. Tears bite at his eyes but he pushes them back, angry at himself, because he wants to go, wants to see Wayne so badly that it hurts.
“You’re n-not…” Steve lifts up the mask, gasps through a shallow inhale, but he raises one hand, as if sensing Eddie’s unease. I’m okay. “Li…sten. Not running. Go.”
“But—”
“Go.” Steve gives a feeble flick of his hand, as if to say non-negotiable. “Will… be here when you’re… back.” He puts the mask back in place. “P-promise.”
I’ll hold you to that, Eddie thinks, but he can’t even speak when he leaves, watching numbly as a group of staff bustle over to Steve’s room, clipboards in hand.
He’s alone. He’s alone in there, and I left him.
Perhaps Steve wanted it like this, but that thought is muted compared to the spiral of Eddie’s self-loathing as he walks away. No matter what Steve says, it still feels like running. Like a betrayal.
-
When he enters the hotel room, the first thing he sees is the harsh red glare of the alarm clock. 1:17am. Then, there’s Wayne, sat in the desk chair, clearly kept up by his usual working hours. He’s doing the crossword; Eddie can see where he’s sketched out answers in pencil first before going over them in pen when he’s certain of the word.
Maybe it’s the normality of the scene that does it. All Eddie knows is that he’s suddenly shaking, and he just lets his guitar fall to the ground when he’d normally cradle it, so Wayne is bound to notice something’s up, but Eddie can’t keep it together, and he doesn’t get it; he’s fine, so why—
“Eddie,” Wayne says. The chair is shoved back as he stands hurriedly, and he keeps Eddie upright with both hands around his forearms. “Sit down.”
Eddie sits on the bed heavily. There’s a distant roaring in his ears; he’s breathing too quickly.
“It worked,” he says, but he can barely hear his own voice. “I-it—”
“All right,” Wayne cuts him off not unkindly. “That’s enough. Just breathe, Ed.”
Eventually each breath doesn’t seem to burn, and Eddie can hear other quieter sounds filtering through—Wayne carefully moving the guitar, the slow creak of the bed as he sits down next to him.
When Eddie raises his head, he sees that Wayne is looking down at his hands; it’s only then that he notices the red marks on his fingertips, inflamed from pressing against the guitar strings.
“You gonna tell me?” Wayne asks.
Eddie closes his eyes. “I...” He grapples for words. “You… you can’t un-know it.”
Wayne sighs. For a moment, Eddie thinks he’ll drop it, and they’ll move on, and that’ll be it: this big, unsayable thing between them forever.
Then Wayne rests a gentle hand on Eddie’s head, rocks once. “Try me.”
-
Wayne doesn’t interrupt; he listens to everything in silence. There’s no disbelief in his face—the only change in his expression is that his brow becomes more and more furrowed. Eddie can’t guess what he’s thinking, but perhaps, after everything that’s happened, this horrific explanation is easy to accept. Or maybe it’s because they have promised, years ago, that they would never lie to each other.
Weary, Eddie finds that he tells the story disjointedly, keeps having to double back on himself and clumsily repeat things—and even when he says things twice, he knows it’s still vague: how Steve’s fate went from a friend died to we’ve got a plan to bring him back.
And because exhaustion is weighing him down, he realises with a sinking feeling that he’s told everything in the wrong order. He hasn’t mentioned Chrissy.
At first, he doesn’t think he can. But then Wayne must sense a change, something wrong in his breathing again, because he puts his hand on Eddie’s knee, and his meaning is clear. You can tell me anything.
Stopping and starting over and over, Eddie finally tells his uncle how Chrissy Cunningham died. How it was an awful death, a painful one.
A lonely one.
“I left her there,” he says, and it feels like that’s never going to leave him, the shame and guilt crushing his chest. “Wayne, I—I left her all alone, and then y-you had to see her like—”
“Stop,” Wayne says. His eyes are wide with dismay, as if realising that this isn’t something he can solve by just taking Eddie away from it all; like when he pulled him away from the doorway when Eddie was a child, urging him not to look.
“I sh-should’ve fucking done something, Wayne. God, I should’ve h-helped her—”
“Eddie,” Wayne says, far more gently than Eddie deserves, “son, she was already dead.”
The words land, rock Eddie’s foundations.
“C’mere.” Wayne puts his arms around him, pulls him close. “It wasn’t your fault. You gotta know that, you hear me?”
“I…” Eddie grits his teeth. “Wayne, I—”
“After I called the police,” Wayne says gently, “I talked to her. Just… just in case she… you know?”
Eddie inhales raggedly. “Oh.”
“She did cheerleading, right?”
Eddie nods.
“Yeah, I can picture her. She was always real polite… Remember that show you had in middle school? And you made me carry half the damn band’s equipment when I came to pick you up?”
Eddie chokes through a surprised laugh. “Yeah.”
“She came runnin’ across the parking lot while I was waiting on you. She’d found your guitar pick left on the stage and she didn’t know where you were. Said, ‘Mr. Munson, I wanted to make sure he got it back, he said it was his good luck charm.’”
Eddie doesn’t recall this, but he knows the exact guitar pick Wayne is referring to: the one he now wears around his neck to stop him from ever losing it. And instead of thinking about how she looked on that terrible night, an image forms in his head of what Wayne must have seen, of Chrissy running over, ponytail bouncing. Her happiness.
Death cannot take everything.
He sniffs. “I-I didn’t know that.”
Wayne sighs. “Oh, kid. Don’t let it break your heart.” He presses a kiss to Eddie’s temple, repeats softly, “It wasn’t your fault.”
And Eddie weeps.
-
He sleeps right through until noon. There’s a note left for him on the bedside cabinet when he wakes: Wayne saying that he’s helping with the Red Cross at the high school. He’s added a post-script, as if he received more information just as he was about to head out the door.
Hospital called. Steve Harrington awake & asking after you, said if you were sleeping to leave you be. Said he’s sitting up more & can talk without mask.
Eddie flips the paper over. He writes on autopilot for most of it, says that he’s packing another overnight bag for the hospital—he’s using the last of his salvaged shirts at this rate—and notes down Steve’s floor and room number. He goes to write a thank you to end the message, but that seems too small for last night; he doesn’t know how to put it all into words. Instead he puts Wayne’s crossword underneath the piece of paper, solves the ones Wayne had missed.
It’s only when he’s walking through the hospital entrance that he realises that he’s instinctively brought his guitar along, too.
“Eddie?”
He turns. It’s Robin, apprehensiveness rolling off her in waves as she searches Eddie’s face. “They—they called and said…?” She trails off, like she’s hardly daring to believe it, like if she says it out loud, everything will be taken back.
“Yeah,” Eddie says quickly. He holds her gaze and nods firmly. “He woke up.”
She gasps, surges forward and practically jumps on top of him. He has to move just so she doesn’t end up with the body of the guitar knocking against her stomach, shifts his stance so he’s half holding her up by the waist.
“Holy freaking shit, Eddie, oh my God, oh my God,” she’s babbling. Her hair is tickling Eddie’s cheek, and then she’s planting a sudden, sweet kiss there, a little wet from her crying.
Eddie hugs her back, and he can’t help himself, jokingly complaining, “Gross, are you wearing lipstick, Buckley?”
Robin pulls back and laughs. “‘Fraid so,” she says in the tone of someone delivering grave news. “The glittery kind, too.”
As they let go of each other, a passing-by nurse catches Eddie’s eye, appears to give a knowing smile.
“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Eddie says once she’s gone, and he starts giggling. “Hate to break it to you, but she definitely thinks we’re together.”
Robin shakes her head with a wide grin. Then, barely missing a beat, she drops into an uncanny impression of Humphrey Bogart: “We’ll always have Paris.”
Eddie keeps laughing, as they climb the stairs two at a time to Steve’s room. “We’re so weird.”
Robin clutches his hand. “Yeah,” she says, her smile a tiny, secret thing, just for them. “I’m glad we’re weird.”
And it sounds like she’s saying much more.
-
Steve is awake when they rush in, sitting up with his pillows supporting his upper back rather than his head. There’s a reassuring colour to his cheeks.
When he sees Robin, his whole face lights up with the biggest smile. His lips are cracked slightly, marks of painful looking indentations around his mouth from the mask that have Eddie inwardly wincing.
“Oh, God, who let you in?” Steve asks Robin with a cheeky drawl; and his voice is strong, barely a rasp within it.
“Shut up, you moron,” Robin sobs.
She hugs him, mindful of the bandages around his stomach, just peeking out from underneath the sheets.
Steve holds her tight. Over the top of her head, he catches Eddie’s eye. “Is that glitter on your cheek?” He raises an eyebrow and smirks, and for some reason it suddenly feels like all three of them are sharing some private joke, especially when Steve adds, almost sing-song, “Should I be jealous?” and Robin promptly flicks his forehead.
It’s all so normal, and for a while, Eddie feels a physical lightness, as if there’s a bubble in the room filled with utter, complete happiness.
But when Robin pulls back, Eddie notices that there’s a subtle fixed look to Steve’s smile, there one minute and gone the next—like if the hug had gone on for a moment longer, his composure might have crumbled.
“You’re looking good, Harrington,” Eddie says quietly, and though it’s said sincerely, he offers it more as an out for Steve, even though he doesn’t quite get what Steve is trying to escape.
Steve’s face flickers with something like relief before he grins again. “Thanks, man. They’ve got me on the good stuff.”
Eddie nods absently. It’s not like that’s a lie; whatever miracle-working drugs Steve’s been given have clearly strengthened his lungs, allowed him to go from practically voiceless to talkative literally overnight. But there’s more to it than that, in the way Steve is sitting up as straight as he can, like he’s proving a point. It makes Eddie suspect that, as soon as he’d left, Steve had tried to speedrun recovery while no-one was looking.
“Had to sweet talk a nurse to get them to call you,” Steve says. “They said phone lines are crazy right now, keep going dead or engaged or…”
“I can try and get through.” Eddie stands. When he’d gone past reception, he’d seen that the lines for the limited phones available were already snaking round the corridors; it’ll be one hell of a waiting game. “Do you wanna call someone else?”
Steve nods slightly; his eyes flit to the side, and his expression turns sombre. He’s looking at Dustin’s walkie. “I’d better give this back to him, huh?”
“I’ll go,” Eddie insists.
Robin smiles at him with clear gratitude, moves her chair closer to Steve’s bed.
It takes just under two hours for Eddie to get through to Dustin; thankfully he’s the one who picks up. Eddie had half expected some kind of celebration on the other end, like how Dustin had been when Steve’s song was discovered, but instead the conversation is much more subdued and short-lived, as if Dustin wants to finish it as quickly as possible so he can head to the hospital.
“Henderson’s coming,” Eddie says as he walks back into Steve’s room. “Said he’ll be there as soon as…”
His voice fades away at the sight of Steve’s eyes being closed.
But just as he falls silent, Steve starts to speak, voice clear and alert.
“Not sleeping,” Steve says. “Just resting my eyes.”
And that really does seem to be true, because Steve’s face never once slackens into sleep.
Eddie looks at Robin, trying to voice a silent question in his eyes, but she just shrugs helplessly.
-
Eddie finds Dustin at the end of the corridor on Steve’s floor.
“There you are!” Eddie says. “Wait, dude, where’s your crutches?”
“I forgot them,” Dustin says, a bit shortly. “It’s not really a fracture, I’ll be fine.” He seems unaware that that’s not exactly reassuring.
“O…kay,” Eddie says. “C’mon, he can’t wait to see you.”
But Dustin doesn’t move. Eddie suddenly worries that he’s been standing right there for a while.
“Hey,” Eddie says. He sticks out a hand. “He’s really okay, Dustin.”
Silently, Dustin takes Eddie’s hand.
As they get closer to Steve’s room, they cross paths with Robin.
“Vending machine is calling my name,” she says breezily. She pretends to dive for Dustin like a football tackle, then ruffles his hair before he can dodge her. “Hi, genius child.”
“Get off,” Dustin says with an eye roll, a cocky grin, but his nerves are still obvious. When Robin leaves, when they face the doorway, he drops Eddie’s hand and walks through alone; and Eddie thinks that this, beyond anything, is one of the bravest things he’s seen.
He tentatively enters the room when he can’t hear any conversation going on. When he does, he’s just in time to see Steve startle at Dustin’s appearance, blinking like he’s been wrenched from a deep train of thought.
“Hey!” he calls. He shifts in bed, straightens up even more.
But Dustin doesn’t move. Eddie holds his breath, tiptoes over to stand beside him, not touching.
Steve is frowning, eyes on Dustin. “Oh, bud, what happened to your leg?” he says with dismay; and it says so much, that he can tell with one glance, without any crutches in sight.
Dustin’s hands are shaking, clenched into fists. Eddie can hear his uneven breathing.
“Dustin,” Steve says. One of his hands is braced against the mattress, like he’d be on his feet and running over if only he could. “Dustin, I’m so sorry.”
Dustin shakes his head. “No,” he whispers. “No, fuck you, you don’t get to—to say that.”
Steve’s face falls. “I… I get it, dude,” he says. “It’s—”
“No!” Dustin says, and he stalks forward despite his limp, and one of his fists comes up to beat against Steve’s chest, and Steve just lets it happen. “No, you—it’s not okay, it’s—”
“Hey,” Steve murmurs. He catches Dustin’s hand in his own, a gentle and protective hold. “Dustin, hey, it’s—”
“Shut up!” Dustin wails. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m—”
And as he’s speaking, he falls against Steve, and Steve’s arms wrap around him.
“I…” Dustin hiccups, gasps—cries without restraint, like a child. Because he is one. “I don’t hate you.”
“Shh,” Steve says. “I know, I know.” He presses a kiss to the top of Dustin’s head, then hugs him tight; and Eddie watches as Steve’s face briefly crumples, before he visibly pulls himself together. “Everything’s okay. Hey, shh, shh. We’re okay, we’re okay.”
Eddie steps out and silently closes the door behind him.
-
Robin pats a spot on the floor next to her, hands him a couple of candy bars.
“Has he… talked to you?” Eddie asks.
Robin sighs. “Nope.” She nudges him until Eddie takes a bite out of the candy, then adds, “You?”
Eddie shakes his head. He thinks back to the blur of last night. “He… just kinda got me talking without really...”
Robin nods sadly. “Yeah. He’s good at that.”
-
It’s late evening, and Robin and Dustin have long since left, when Steve’s determined resolve begins to fail him. His eyes drift shut in increasingly lengthy blinks, lulled by the dim light.
Eddie quietly draws the curtains. Then he exhales a little laugh when he turns back round to find Steve trying to keep his head up.
“For Christ’s sake, Harrington.”
“M’not sleeping,” Steve says, though he sounds halfway to dreaming as he speaks.
“Take the hint, man.” Eddie reaches over, gently guides Steve until he’s lying down properly. “You need rest.”
As he moves the pillows, he feels a warm puff of air against his hands, Steve’s breathing already slow and deep. “Don’ need to… stay if you don’…” Steve sighs, turns to the side, one cheek pressing into the pillow. “M’kinda boring.”
“Shut up,” Eddie says gently. And he stops himself from saying something stupid like You, boring? Think that’s impossible, because Steve has already fallen asleep.
-
Eddie doesn’t know what rouses him initially, just knows that he’s lifting his head up from the little couch he’s settled on.
He hears an indecipherable murmur in the darkness. Blinking blearily, he whispers, “Steve?”
“Dustin…? Dustin…”
Eddie sits up. “He went home, remember?” he says, tries to ensure his voice isn’t harsh, but is still loud enough to break through whatever Steve is dreaming about.
“Dustin…” A quiet, low moan.
Eddie rises, stumbles over. “Steve? Steve, wake up.”
Steve moans again. “Oh, God, no, no—”
Eddie clumsily switches on a lamp, revealing Steve’s face turning side to side, muscles in his neck strained, eyebrows drawn in distress.
“Steve, it’s just a dream, you’ve gotta—”
“He’s dead,” Steve says brokenly. “They’re dead, they’re all—oh, God—”
“Wake up,” Eddie says. He grabs Steve’s shoulders and shakes, uncaring if it’s abrupt; he just needs it all to stop now. “No-one’s dead, Steve, come on, you’re—”
Steve wakes with a start, breathing heavily. Eddie instinctively lifts his hands off his shoulders, but Steve looks even more panicked at that, so he immediately returns them, keeps his touch light but there.
“Hey, you with me? Just a dream,” Eddie repeats.
“Oh,” Steve says, like he’s been winded. “Oh.”
“Here, you want a drink? There’s some water on…” Eddie reaches for a glass, but Steve just says, “No,” and covers his face with his hands.
“I’m sorry, I’m—”
“Steve, you don’t have to—”
“Just go back to sleep, I’ll be—”
“Yeah, that’s not happening. You sure you don’t want a—?”
Steve’s hands fall away, and he bows his head. “Eddie,” he says. His voice breaks. “I can’t.”
Eddie perches on the bed. “Hey, all right, that’s—”
And everything he was going to say dies in his throat as Steve’s head comes to rest on his shoulder. A growing wet patch forms.
And he stays very still as Steve shakes with silent sobs.
Almost silent.
“S-sorry. I’m sorry, I-I’m sorry…”
Steve takes shallow, desperate breaths. Eddie can feel his lips trembling against his skin.
And then Steve holds onto Eddie’s forearm with a harsh grip, knuckles turning white.
Eddie suddenly remembers that awful moment, right before the end of everything. I can’t feel you.
“Hey. Hey, hey, I’ve got you,” Eddie murmurs. Gently, gently, he puts a hand on Steve’s nape, cradles the back of his head. Feel that? God, please let him feel it… “I’m here. I’m right here.”
#the self sacrificial steve agenda#steddie#steddie fic#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie#wayne munson#robin buckley#dustin henderson
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