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hitlikehammers · 1 month

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Starring Steve Harrington in a Leading Role as 'Mom Husband Disappointed in YOU PERSONALLY'

rating: teen tags: future fic, established relationship, Eddie commits a capital offense, bitchy Steve strikes again, Eddie loves him so much, married steddie, rockstar husbands ✨for @hbyrde36 at my BIRTHDAY MONTH PROMPT FEST for the prompt: “I assume I deserve this, but can you tell me why you want to kill me this time?”

One look is all it really takes.

As in: Eddie doesn’t have to do more than pulls his key from the lock, kick the door closed behind him, open his mouth to spill his usual litany of adorations, multiple at least tenfold for the uncommon days—plural, two whole days—spent apart from his husband, from his beloved, from less his other half and more his entire whole, the soul and breath of him, the rhythm-maker of his heart entire, his—

Eddie gets so far as turning to start on spilling all the love he’s had to bottle up because Steve wasn’t next to him for a whole 63 hours, and voicemails are fine, phone calls are nice, texts are a gift from god but also the bane of his existence because they’re starting to pretend—as in, the wider-world-of-they—but they’re starting to pretend they’re sufficient, that they’re enough and, and…

Fucking never.

But Eddie’s been gone—label negotiations, shit they were digging their heels on being in person for no goddamn reason, as proven by the actual days in person—and now, as he takes in his husband at the island, sat on one of the bar stools, those legs danged low and crossed at the ankles, the fucking socks on him tantalizing, good goddamn, but he’s leans back from the waist and those…those arms. Crossed over his chest.

That’s never meant anything other than judgement. Than what the kids used to term Mom’s disappointed in you personally.

Except Steve is his partner. His til-death-do-us-part-and-then-some. And…

Oh. Oh, he’s got his glasses on when he’s not working—Eddie scans the countertop for papers, nothing obvious—which only enhances the effect of the look; gives it a whole new dimension of accusation as he looks over the tops of the frames and lets his gaze fucking…just sear into Eddie. Uncompromising. No mercy.

Eddie will not try to pretend his doesn’t fucking gulp, the violent motion of his throat around it undoubtedly obvious: but Steve doesn’t budge. Doesn’t grant him quarter.

Fuck. Right. Okay.

Diffusion tactics.

“I assume I deserve this,” Eddie starts, pitches the words to land gentle because, well, they’re honest. Steve’s a fucking drama queen, absolutely: but it’s never been without his reasons, and Eddie loves him with his everything, right, so he respects his reasons.

Even when they’re fucking absurd.

But there’s no evidence here yet either way, about the what, about the cause of the sheer fucking inferno blazing in those eyes, the venom that Eddie can almost taste in the air that seeps from his lips for just breathing, that could probably land a death blow on its own when he actually deigns to speak, and so: yeah.

Eddie does assume he deserves it, one way or another. Because Steve loves him with his everything, too, like for like and then some, both ways and all ways. So he doesn’t react quite like this; doesn’t pull this sort of shit lightly.

“But” and he’s still picking his way through the minefield, takes only the barest step closer palms open near his hips, plaintive-like as he…yeah, kinda he pleads:

“Can you tell me why you want to kill me this time?”

Steve—okay, so, in any other circumstance: the sounds Steve makes, the guttural fucking growl that rumbles from his chest: that’d be hot as shit.

In fact it’s still hot as shit, but: not the time. Because those eyes are still…like, third-degree-burn to the touch.

“You lied.”

Eddie blinks, because…he hears Steve’s words. They’re very simple, and very clear.

But they’re nonsensical.

“What?”

“You lied to me.” And then Steve’s grabbing something behind him, flinging it closer to where Eddie stands at the end of the island and oh, okay, a magazine and—

Oh. Oh.

Okay.

A magazine with Eddie on the front with some…

Wait.

“Stevie,” and Eddie’s not gonna be placating, he’s not going to be evasive or dismissive—Steve knows the other party hanging off Eddie in the photo, it’s Lance, the band’s media intern who has a not-so-secret infatuation with Steve of all people, and is about to be replace by a kid, Marvin maybe, in his senior year in PR and media studies who, honestly, Eddie suspects may have an even bigger infatuation with his husband, but that’s not a concern for right now; the concern for right now is that Steve’s looking at Eddie, glancing every half-second toward the photo again and looking…somewhere between enraged and betrayed.

And it’s so fucking sour in Eddie’s chest, god: he needs to fix it. He’s just, he’s got to fic it but—

He doesn’t know what the hell it even is.

“Baby, I would never, not ever lie to you. And you know Lance,” Eddie tries to point out soothing, rational, no hint of patronizing because he wouldn’t, he would never, especially not like this.

Steve’s scowl just depends, and he taps hard enough on the page to leave an indent, to score a line with his nail.

Right. Okay.

“Stevie—“

“You,” and Steve leans toward the far side, grabs something out of view before he points the something at Eddie almost threateningly:

“Lied.”

“Steve,” and Eddie’s eyeing the instrument leveled at him carefully before he notes what it actually is: a pen.

A red pen and oh. His Stevie. Always the consummate educator.

And Steve does the growling thing again, probably because Eddie’s face goes lax, all soft and shit in the face of Steve being all competent in his profession in the small, sweet ways that pop up all the time, that Eddie loves so deep, so hard, but then Steve’s scribbling and oh, it’s one of the fancy pens, more like a marker that’s bright against the magazine gloss and he’s circling, he’s making arrows, there’s no rhyme or reason—

“Lies!” Steve declares, definitive as he throws down the pen and shoves the marked-up photo toward Eddie so it’s skids across the island, so Eddie has to catch it, and he squint a second, tries to make sense of what’s circled over and again and—

“You fucking promised me,” and Steve…yeah.

Steve sounds like Mom’s disappointed in him personally to a fucking T.

But so much worse again: because this is his husband.

“I did—“

“No!” Steve cuts him off; “no more bullshit,” and oh, fuck, Eddie knows it’s serious, that word’s got a premium still in their household, and then Steve’s leaning closer pointing forcefully at the image, at the red-ringed offenders:

“That,” Steve snarls; “is fucking frizz, Edward,” and Steve looks up at him, again, some combination of livid and offended on principle; “why did I even bother to pack you the conditioner that you swore to me you’d use—“

“I did, Stevie!” Eddie protests, pleads for leniancy; “I did, I swear, my bag got delayed the first night, it was only that first night that I showered without it,” and fuck, how’d they even get that photo, how the fuck did it get to print and in Steve’s hands even, how—

“You cannot maintain your curl pattern without proper maintenance,” Steve grits through clenched teeth and yes, yes: Eddie knows. He’s learned, and learned again, and learned some more, for…for years.

He kinda loves it. But he’ll never love making his husband sad. So, because he’s skilled on his feet, he tries for a compromise. A Hail-Mary, in sports ball speak—or he thinks that’s the right thing to call it.

“Maybe you can salvage it,” Eddie proposes, damn-near begs, and yeah, yes: he means that wholehearted, too; “maybe we can go upstairs and you can save it?”

And Eddie’s not even trying to make his eyes big, knows Steve’s largely immune unless he chooses not to be, but his eyes are stinging for how wade they’re stretched, and he holds the gaze, stares pitifully at Steve, pleads so hard, and then—

Steve smacks Eddie’s forearm with the rolled-up magazine and makes to leave the room; Eddie just stands, a little frozen, a little bewildered, until—

“Well, get your ass up here,” he hears from the staircase; “you better hope I can work miracles, dipshit, else your photocalls are gonna be stringy and sad all goddamn week.”

And Eddie grins because like: he knows his husband—and the man himself is already kind of a miracle.

So miracle working is kinda his area of expertise.

permanent tag list (comment to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690

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soups-archive · 4 months

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Im in love with the implications of tape 1 of Roier's lore because he either:

1) Was legitimately turned into a rat by the federation, which, beyond the goofy fucking model, is genuinely frightening body horror that I think roier (the guy not the cubito) has the full capacity to explore knowing his rp abilities.

2) He was hallucinating getting turned into a rat because of all the drugs he the feds are pumping him with. This comes with the extra terrifying implication that the feds ARE actually experimenting on him, but what they're actually doing to him is being obscured by the effects of the drugs.

Either way it's fucking horrific and I love it. I can't wait to see what he has planned next.

#qsmp #soup speaks #roier #tw drugs #tw hallucinations #god i hope hes hallucinating because genuinely there are so many sick ways he could portray that #he could continue the rat storyline but have it get more and more absurd as a way to communicate to the audience that its all fake #or he could have the set up be the same as this stream #with cucurucho taking him out of his cell for testing and each test or experiement being more absurd than the last #with the horrible implication that shit is being done to him but we just cant see it #unreliable narrator type shit #we could even get little peaks of reality before the big reveal of whats actually happening #like #!!!!!!!!!!!#its so good im so hype for the next tape #i missed the feds being a genuinely terrifying fucked up threat

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themanwhomadeamonster · 27 days

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genuinely love aoi's weird design it's such a neat callback to the AZN rave scene back in the 90s/00s

#warframe #wf aoi #like the smoky eyes the absurd hair style the industrial 'clothes'!? SO GOOD #peak 90s rebellious asian diaspora

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sharpieshepie · 2 years

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“Anyway, here’s Wonderwall”

_________

Post-canon Bingqiu doing absolutely nothing but lazing around and looking appropriately picturesque

#svsss #bingqiu #shen qingqiu #luo binghe #landscape #sharpieshepie #inspired by The Piano Guys’ ridiculously beautiful and absurd piano locations #I keep forgetting LBH was from a scholarly peak

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thetaoofbetty · 9 months

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗

okay but i feel like everyone needs to know my brain went south with the self love part of this and i am not sorry about it.

uhm. 5 fics. have i written 5 fics? lemme check. well would you look at that, i have. interesting.

hmm, okay i'm gonna go with the top 5 i had the most fun writing:

the good girl's guide

black velvet

the unbearable temptation of jughead jones

hopeless romantic

i can't fall in love without you (my baby! my firstborn!)

thank you for the ask, lovely.💜

#besos!#thatiranianphantom #bughead #bughead fanfiction #you know it's sort of weird i write valentine's one shots as much as i do #since i have no real interest or care about the day itself #oh well i suppose #i do enjoy the chaos of them i gotta be honest #tho those are in no particular order #i still think the unbearable temptation one is peak absurdity hah

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waveypedia · 7 months

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my friend i simply MUST know, why the mole?

i saw a post where someone was trying to figure out how tumblr trending works. they made a post with random tags (mole interest) and somehow got it almost 50k notes to see if the tag would trend. it did. but there were also a bunch of other posts about it presumably once it started gaining traction so they might have also contributed to the tag's popularity lol

#it's peak tumblr absurdity #with a hint of science #my asks #animefreak

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thatswhatsushesaid · 10 months

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seeing some of the tag commentary on one of my posts atm and like. .../exhale, I acknowledge I could have been clearer re: jyl's presence at the nightless city massacre. no, she doesn't just run dramatically through armed conflict like she does in cql, u got me. mea culpa. however:

1) jyl was not the focus of that post--jgy was;

2) yes, I realize it wasn't supposed to be a battlefield (like most fields where battles take place). but it becomes one because wwx shows up and turns it into one;

3) after scattering wq's ashes, jgs makes it pretty clear that the rest of the wen remnants are going to be wiped out imminently--like, tomorrow, if we take him at his word. and when wwx hears jyl calling out for him after the fighting breaks out, even he's shocked that she's at the pledge conference. from ch 78 of the EXR translation:

Suddenly, amid the battle noises, Wei WuXian heard a faint voice.

The voice was shouting, “A-Xian!”

Like a bucket of ice-cold water, the voice doused the vile flames raging within his heart.

Jiang YanLi?

When did she come to the pledge conference?!

Wei WuXian was immediately half dead with fright. He couldn’t care about the fight with Lan WangJi any longer and put down Chenqing, “Shijie?!”

anyway /waves arms, I guess this is what I get for making one (1) tongue-in-cheek comment about jyl in a post that is otherwise not at all about jyl.

#salty peak sect 🧂#i'm not actually that annoyed about this tbh #i don't mind disagreement or discussion or to have stuff i'm wrong about pointed out to me #which is i hope something i've demonstrated frequently on my blog #this however feels um. a bit pedantic.#i was being glib because jyl being considered one of jgy's victims is absurd #and i am glib about things that i think are absurd #also as a side-note #if you are actually sorry about hijacking a post it is completely within your power to not hijack it #i don't apologize for reblogging bad takes because i'm not sorry for doing it #if it ends up in the tags it's fair game #like. reblog me to disagree w/ me that's fine but why apologize for doing the thing while you are doing it

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