eddie's flat ass (steddie)
Dustin whips around as soon as they’re alone. “Steve!”
“I’m Eddie.”
“No, I mean you and Steve. You like him.”
“Of course I like him, Henderson,” Eddie says flatly, pressing a little harder on the gas in hopes of getting to Dustin’s house before he admits something he regrets. “We’re friends. Best buds. A couple of dudes being bros.”
“You’re full of shit,” Dustin says. “I’m not stupid. I saw that. I wish I hadn’t, but I saw it. You’re, like, stupidly into him. I don’t know how I didn’t see it before.”
“Jesus Christ,” Eddie mutters. His street can’t come soon enough.
Dustin pushes through. “When are you gonna ask him out?”
“Uh, never?”
“What?!”
“Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies,” Eddie rolls his eyes. “Nothings going to happen, Henderson. Yeah, I’ve got a stupid fucking crush on your babysitter, it doesn’t mean that Steve’s interested in me. He likes girls, Dustin, did you miss that part in the dossier? He thinks we’re a couple of straight guys horsing around, if he found out I was flirting with him I could be thrown into Hunt the Freak 2: the thrilling sequel.”
Dustin’s mouth snaps shut, and he laughs nervously. “Right,” he agrees. “He likes girls. But, uh, hypothetically, if he was into guys…”
They roll to a stop sign, and Eddie turns away from the road to tell the little shit off. But Dustin’s fidgeting, staring steadfast at the road and refusing to meet his eye.
“You know something,” he realizes.
“Uh…”
Eddie’s about to shake it out of him. “You’re hiding something, you little shit. What is it? Tell me.”
“I’m not,” he squeaks.
“Bull-shit you aren’t. What is it? Is it about Steve?” Eddie pales. “Shit, does he know about me?”
“Well…”
“What the hell?!”
“I didn’t tell him!” Dustin yelps. “If you didn’t want him to know, maybe you shouldn’t have been so obvious!”
“Check your tone,” he snaps, hand shaking as he pulls on his hair. “Shit, shit, shit, okay, it’s fine, I just need to flee the country—“
“Why?”
Eddie is this close to throttling the kid. “What do you mean why?”
“Why is this such a big deal?”
“It could get me killed!” He shouts, banging a hand against the steering wheel. “He could—he could fucking tell somebody, and—“
“He wouldn’t do that!”
“How the fuck am I supposed to know that? You think someone’s a good guy until you’re interested in them, and then it’s all ‘You’re fucking disgusting,’ or ‘Freak,’ or ‘Don’t touch me, you fa—‘“
“Stop!” Dustin shouts, white knuckling the armrest. “Eddie, stop. He’s not going to tell anyone. It’s gonna be okay. It’s fine.”
“It’s not.”
“It’s fine,” Dustin stresses. “Steve doesn’t care if you’re gay. He definitely doesn’t mind you flirting with him.”
“You don’t know that,” Eddie says.
“Yeah I do.”
“How?”
There’s that deer in headlights look again. Then Dustin takes a deep breath, and his expression turns guilty.
“I know you’re not supposed to tell people this,” he says, “but you’re freaking out really bad and I’m, like, 99% sure Steve thinks you already know.”
“Steve thinks I know what?”
Dustin tells him.
Two hours later, he’s still laying on the floor in the trailer, looking up at the ceiling.
Bisexual. Steve Harrington, the man Eddie’s always hailed as the patron saint of heterosexuality, likes men.
Might like Eddie.
“Are you flirting with me?” Eddie blurts out, and immediately tries to bolt.
He runs face first into a wall and ends up on the ground, wishing the demobats had just killed him.
Steve appears in his line of vision, standing over his sprawled body. Eddie is treated to a wonderful view, eyes moving from his long, athletic legs to his crotch to his chest and broad shoulders, and finally reaches his face. His very amused face.
Eddie’s entire body lights on fire.
“What the hell was that?” Steve asks, laughing.
“Uh…”
“Wile E Coyote over here. Seriously, man, that was some Loony Toons shit. I’m embarrassed for you.”
“Oh my God, shut up,” he groans. “Just let me die.”
“No way in hell. Sorry, Munson, I put too much work into saving your flat ass to throw it away like that.” Steve grins, holding a hand out for Eddie to take. He ignores it, rolling over so Steve can’t see how red his face is.
“My ass isn’t flat,” he mumbles into the carpet.
“Oh, it is,” Steve says cheerfully, nudging said ass with his foot, because he’s a bastard. Eddie doesn’t know why he likes him so much. Everything he does is catastrophically bad for his continued survival. “It’s cute though. I like it.”
“Henderson said, uh, that you were…umm…maybeflirtingwithme?” Eddie finishes in a rush.
“What?”
Steve’s face is open, automatically tilting his right ear towards Eddie. Eddie doesn’t know if he’s aware that’s something he does. Robin says it’s because of all the concussions, his left ear just isn’t what it used to be.
Eddie sags, unable to lie to his wide-eyed confusion. “Dustin said you're flirting with me.”
Steve stares at him.
Eddie fidgets under his incredulous gaze, growing more anxious by the minute. Oh God, Dustin was wrong. Dustin was wrong about everything. Steve probably doesn’t even actually like boys, Jesus. The whole thing is obviously a bust. Eddie needs to cut and run, maybe make some bullshit excuse about his uncle needing him home even though Steve knows Wayne’s working right now—
“You needed Henderson to tell you that?”
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Fermi Paradox Answer
Its a Dark Forest out there.
The dark forest hypothesis is the conjecture that many alien civilizations exist throughout the universe, but they are both silent and hostile, maintaining their undetectability by humanity for fear of being destroyed by another hostile and undetected civilization.
Consider the idea that Elfilis, a wandering Dreambeast, comes across the Voyager probe and is struck by the wonders within the golden record. Filled not with malice or fear of what is to them, an alien civilization, but filled with curiosity.
They decided to visit the planet the probe came from. See the wonders for themself.
In this framing, it is presumed that any space-faring civilization would view any other intelligent life as an inevitable threat, and thus destroy any nascent life that makes itself known. As a result, the electromagnetic spectrum would be relatively quiet, without evidence of any intelligent alien life, as in a "dark forest" filled with "armed hunter(s) stalking through the trees like ghosts".
(From Wikipedia)
Unfortunately, the now advanced Earth civilization was not as filled with friendly curiosity about the alien lifeform.
Earth fired the first shot.
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Hello, do you have a moment to talk about Michael Sheen's acting? No? Perfect!
Look at this legally acquired still of Aziraphale just after Crowley left the bookshop post Kiss:
He looks like a child who asked you for chocolate after he's been a really good boy all day and you just said "no."
SIR, YOU ARE OVER 50 YEARS OLD! Maybe he needs to be reminded from time to time so he stops pulling these faces that absolutely kill my insides.
After having witnessed how many people were surprised by the "'Do It Again' Revelation"(TM), I wish I'd come and dumped all my thoughts on tumblr right after watching because, as an autistic person, I don't understand how you all are (rightfully) praising Michael's acting and then read his expression after the kiss as disgust? LOOK AT THIS BEBÉ HE WANTS HIS SCHOKIIII! The good kind, dark, bitter, rich, leaves a slightly weird taste and feel in the mouth.
He is so happy/unhappy because he wants that but he was saving it for when he could savour it because he is an old-fashioned romantic type and now it's spoilt. But also he can't help being happy he got it because it is affirming, it is a promise and reassurance. But also he can't have more of it now because he has to try and fix stupid heaven and the whole damn system so they can be safe once and for all. But also if he succeeds he can have more of that because Crowley is willing to give him his chocolate (I am just now remembering the planned scene of Crowley bringing Aziraphale chocolates to celebrate his bookshop opening oh Martel)! But also Aziraphale has to go to heaven alone because Crowley really doesn't want to be back there. But also Aziraphale could really use some help there, some mental and emotional support, someone who keeps bending over backwards to make things work for him.
HE WANTS HIS SCHOKI!
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