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khwxbeeda · 8 months

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The tattoo gun looks intimidating. The new friends I've made— people from my new college whom I've known for less than a week— ooh and aah over the thing.

I suppress a smile.

It's not that scary, I tell them, and I believe that. It's just a needle.

One of them (the one that's been protesting my decision to get myself permanently marked because she thinks I'm making an impulsive decision) gives me a look of potent disbelief. I simply wink at her before pulling my T-shirt over my head and lean back against the chair to let the tattoo artist press the stencil into my skin. She rolls her eyes, and then all four of them drag their stools to sit in front of my chair.

The artist asks me to check the tattoo placement, and I move to the mirror, admiring the navy blue ink under my collarbone.

I want this. I have wanted this for almost four years now.

I sit on the chair again and watch as the man unwraps the needle's packaging and slides it into the gun, tattooed fingers moving nimbly to perform a motion he perfected years ago. The ink is poured into the little pocket, some kind of cooling cream is rubbed over my skin, and the process begins.

There is no pain.

I sit back and close my eyes, breathing in and breathing out, listening to my new friends whispering to each other and the soft buzz of the gun.

It's quiet. Quiet enough that I am lulled into a drowsy state; not quite asleep, not quite awake. The pressure of the needle is akin to a ball pen being dragged over my flesh— a sensation I'm extremely familiar with. Distantly, I remember that one day, back when I was fifteen, when I had tried to draw this very tattoo on my shoulder with my hand with a pen. It hadn't gone very well; the design had been wobbly and imperfect and the ink had smudged within the first five seconds.

The gun lifts, a soft tissue is used to wipe off the excess ink, and then the needle is moving over my skin again.

I notice it dimly. I am more than halfway asleep, and the white noise along with the gentle pressure of the tattoo gun is only making me go deeper into the realm of dreams. Something— a button— clicks faintly, and soft music fills the air. It's a song from the film Jab We Met, and one corner of my lips ticks up into a soft smile.

Its over before I realise it.

Between one blink and another, I'm standing in front of the mirror with a plastic film wrapped around my shoulder, admiring my ink.

My first tattoo.

A tiny, delicate crown, etched into my skin right beneath the point where my collarbone meets my shoulder.

A crown, as a reminder that my goal is to be the ruler of my own life.

A crown, as a reminder that while a ruler has complete control over their nation, they are the only one responsible for the state of said nation.

A crown, as a reminder that my life is what I strive to make it.

I smile.

Tags: @oohloverboyy @mad-who-ra @musaafir-hun-yaaron @shanti-ashant-hai @that-mad-indian-woman @orgasming-caterpillar

#amrut rambles #amrut writes #tattoos #first tattoo #i got it a few weeks ago #and immediately wrote this #but forgot to post it #so here we are!#desi aesthetic #desiblr #desi tumblr #indian aesthetic #desi academia #desi dark academia #indian academia #desi tag #aesthetic writing

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neproxrezi · 9 months

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harry dubois would end death note in one episode. he'd be unkillable bc he has no fucking idea what his name is and then he'd go drink driving and accidentally run light over and the killings would mysteriously stop

#with a high enough inland empire stat you just see ryuk. immediately #dibi #disco elysium #popular #i wrote this absent mindedly on the journey to germany #wdym it got notes

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itsthislake · 1 month

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“Icarus.”

it's all about freedom really

Credit goes to An Sifakah for the poem. Enjoy!

Support me on Ko-fi maybe?

#lake's art #happy birthday sabo!#this time actually on time wow #revolutionary sabo #one piece sabo #asl brothers #asl trio #monkey d. luffy #portgas d ace #watch me tag ace even though he barely shows up #one piece comic #one piece #one piece fanart #oh i'll confess. i traced that ship from a screencap #there's no force on earth that can make me draw a whole ass ship sorry #as always I am stupidly proud of exactly 1 (one) page and this time it's the third #but i also just love that part of the poem so i was already biased towards it before i drew it lmao #i had a whole ass explanation for the reasoning behind this comic that i wrote at like. 3 am. but fuck knows what i did with it #i contemplated colors and immediately gave up. hell nah i'm not doing that again

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putridcowboy · 2 years

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the most important step in the hero’s journey is the gay sex

#mine #i was. higher than i thought i was last night #nooo post dont go out of my immediate circle u r so sexy #someone just tagged this as naruto wrote this. no he didnt i did #update now sherlock rp blogs are commenting on this. girl it is 2022 what are you doing #leave im going to attack you with wasps #fr if another person comments on this post itself again and it isnt funny im sending the bees after u #never in my life have i felt that one post that is like some of yall are so annoying god bless #more than i do now #this isnt about anything but if it was it would just be about gilgamesh #the more yall add to this post the more obvious it is that some of yall straight up dont know what the heroes journey is #yall need to stop assuming the hero is the protagonist of the stories yall read/watch/consume or whatever the fuck

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swedenis-h · 2 months

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I take your “I don’t remember my mother” and give you “Luke thought Leia and Padmé visions were the same person”

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fxa · 1 year

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polls reveal just how many people use tumblr without interacting with posts. these polls with 100k votes but 10k reblogs, if that... it's been obvious for a few years just how many people have come from other websites and refuse to learn how to use tumblr based on the reblog to like ratio skyrocketing in likes' favor (when reblogs used to be higher than likes on popular posts) but seeing these actual numbers revealed by polls (since few can resist voting on a poll) is crazy

#reblogs off bc some of you are so annoying and think i give a shit about your 5 paragraph double spaced 12pt times new roman ass responses #to an observation i wrote in 2 minutes and immediately forgot about because who actually cares about this. get your note hidden fool #1k #100 #polls #bluh

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piratefishmama · 1 year

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12 year old Eddie Munson writing an Incredibly Detailed™ (it's in yellow crayon) 10-step plan for wooing the cutest boy at his school, aka, Steve "omg he has SO MANY MOLES UNCLE WAYNE" Harrington.

22 year old Steve Harrington finding it balled up under Eddie's bed during a "we're moving in together" clear out so Wayne can finally have his bedroom back, then handing it to Eddie with all the little checkboxes that were previously unticked, ticked.

Especially the one at the bottom.

Steve falls madly in love with me ✓

#steddie #he wrote it #then immediately lost it

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steddiehyperfixation · 1 year

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accidental eavesdropping (steddie ficlet)

based on this post by @imjust-that-shy. i hope i did this vision justice <3

The doors to the bathroom burst open, and - on some pure, inexplicable instinct and with nearly inhuman speed - Eddie darts back into the stall he'd just been about to come out of and leaps to perch on top of the toilet seat, crouched there like some sort of creature.

He hears the sound of retching and the stench of vomit fills the air. He holds his breath, wrinkling his nose and trying to imagine what possible context could be behind Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley bursting in here together to puke their guts out. Eddie knows the two of them work together, he’s seen them sharing shifts at Scoops Ahoy when he's walked by. (Not that he often intentionally passes by the ice cream parlor and slows down just to catch a glimpse of Steve or anything… Although who could really blame him if he did? Like, come on, Steve in that uniform? Hello, sailor.) His mind is busy spinning stories of possible explanations, ranging from spoiled ice cream to sneaking alcohol and getting too drunk during their break.

Eddie's leaning towards the 'drinking on the job' explanation, especially when the retching finally ceases and Robin says something about the room no longer spinning. Those little rebels, Eddie thinks approvingly.

“When’s the last time you, uh…peed your pants,” Steve is asking Robin now, in response to her telling him in a Russian accent to interrogate her.

Eddie curls over his knees, tilting his head to try to peer through the gap between the stalls and the floor to put an image to his eavesdropping. Might as well, he’s kind of stuck here and there’s really not much else he can do right now. He can see Steve’s legs, one bent and the other stretched out in front of him, and Robin in the stall past him laying on the floor with her legs up against the stall wall as she answers, “Today…”

“What?” Steve questions.

“When the Russian doctor took out the bone saw!” Robin says.

Okay…what? Russian doctors and bone saws? Eddie’s now thoroughly intrigued, if a little (okay, a lot) confused. Maybe they’re talking about a movie they watched or something.

Steve’s legs shake with his laughter. “Oh my god.”

“It was just a little bit, though.” Robin pinches her fingers together as she twists her body in Steve’s direction while he laughs again and mutters that whatever it is they took is still in her system. She pushes her feet off the stall and slides to sit against the opposite wall. Eddie can only see her legs now. “Okay, my turn. Have you…ever been in love?”

Steve answers that he has, with Nancy, and makes a sound mimicking an explosion. Eddie remembers that, remembers seeing Steve and Nancy being all touchy and cute in the hallways at school while he was trying his damndest to convince himself that he absolutely definitely did not wish he was in Nancy’s place. It didn’t work very well. And it’s not working very well now either as Steve starts to go on about some new girl he likes now instead - some girl who’s funny and smart and can crack secret Russian codes (okay, seriously, what is it with these two and Russians?) and oh shit, he’s talking about Robin.

Eddie very suddenly feels like he should not be here listening to this, eavesdropping on Steve confessing his feelings for someone. Not only is that, like, a private and personal thing, but also what if Robin likes him back and they start kissing or something right here in this bathroom where Eddie has to sit here and listen to it and that would just be horrible for him for so many reasons and- Eddie’s getting ahead of himself. Robin hasn’t even said anything yet, and her knees are pulled up to her chest and her voice shakes when she confirms she’s still alive after Steve asks if she’s OD’d there in the silence and she uncurls with a deep sigh. All signs that she doesn’t actually like Steve back.

Eddie watches as Steve shifts and slides under the stall into Robin’s, and catches sight of the nasty bruise marring nearly half of Steve’s otherwise beautiful face as he does so. Now concern has been added to the list of emotions this eavesdropping experience has rollercoastered him through so far. The bruise looks fairly fresh and Eddie can’t help but wonder what the hell gave Steve a black eye like that and if he’s okay.

After a brief spiral of concern for Steve’s face, Eddie tunes back into reality to find himself staring at Steve’s ass as Steve now sits with his back against the stall wall opposite Robin. Eddie blinks, expands his tunnel vision to include Steve’s lower back and Robin’s legs which are also visible beneath the gap in the stalls.

“It’s not because I had a crush on you,” Robin is saying. “It’s because…she wouldn’t stop staring at you.”

“Mrs. Click?” Steve sounds confused.

“Tammy Thompson,” Robin clarifies. “I wanted her to look at me.”

Oh. Eddie should really not be listening to this. Robin is trying to come out to Steve, trying to share something deeply personal and vulnerable with him and only him, not knowing that she’s outing herself to an eavesdropping near-stranger as well. Eddie feels violating and intruding. He can’t imagine how he would feel if he found out someone he barely knew had been secretly listening in on him coming out - probably not great, probably terrified. This is something he shouldn’t know, not like this.

“But Tammy Thompson’s a girl,” Steve says, his tone unreadable, and Eddie’s heart nearly stops, sure his own anticipatory anxiety is likely only just a fraction of what Robin must be feeling right now.

“Steve…”

“Yeah?” A pause. “Oh,” Steve’s voice goes soft. “Oh… Holy shit.”

“Yeah,” Robin sighs. Eddie can see her hands nervously rubbing at her shins. “Holy shit.”

Steve is silent for a few painfully long moments. Eddie’s hands curl nervously around his own shins. Is Steve going to be homophobic? Should Eddie be worried for Robin now?

“Steve, did you OD over there?” Robin asks, trying to be light but Eddie can hear the anxiety in her voice.

“No, I just, uh- just thinking,” Steve responds.

“Okay…” Robin’s voice is barely audible. Eddie is holding his breath.

“I mean, yeah,” Steve says finally, “Tammy Thompson’s cute and all, but the only reason I never gave her the time of day was because I was too busy staring at Eddie Munson.”

The aforementioned Eddie Munson releases the breath he’d been holding with an involuntary squeak and claps a hand over his mouth. Thankfully, neither of them heard him over the sound of Robin shouting. “What?! Eddie Munson?! You liked Eddie Munson?” she squawks, voicing Eddie’s own stunned thoughts perfectly.

“Yeah,” Steve confirms casually, completely unaware that he's throwing an eavesdropping Eddie into an absolute crisis right now. There's a soft thudding sound like Steve's hitting the back of his head against the stall wall. His voice gets kind of wistful, almost dreamy, as he says, “His rings, man. Rings and tattoos…and that long hair and those chains he'd wear… Honestly just his whole punk aesthetic thing had me mesmerized.”

“Pretty sure he's metal, not punk,” Robin corrects him.

Thanks, Robin. Also, what the fuck is happening right now?

“Whatever. Still hot as hell,” Steve says.

Eddie squeaks again and practically shoves his whole fist in his mouth to keep himself from making any more noise, his teeth knocking against his rings. The rings Steve likes, apparently. He feels like he's going to pass out, his heart beating so erratically it's making him lightheaded. King Steve - the popular, preppy, stupid, gorgeous, dumb jock Eddie's been crushing on since forever - just called him hot????

“Did you hear that?” Robin asks suddenly, voice low and cautious.

Shit.

“Is anyone else in here?” Steve calls out.

Fuck.

Eddie bites down hard on his knuckles and holds his breath, going impossibly still. If they get up and search the bathroom, then he’s about to be caught red handed, crouched on top of a toilet seat with his fist in his mouth and his face flushed scarlet, eavesdropping on their private conversation about secret Russians and gay crushes. Eddie contemplates falling into the toilet and attempting to flush himself down it. Every god imaginable is receiving a silent prayer from him right now as he watches apprehensively through the gaps in the stall. One of those gods must've heard and taken pity on this poor gay disaster of a man crouched like a goblin in a bathroom stall, because after a few horrible seconds of silence, all Steve does is lean down to peer beneath the stalls for a moment before sitting back up and saying, “Looks empty. I think the drugs are making us hear things.”

“Yeah, probably,” Robin says. Then she giggles, knocking her leg against Steve’s. “I still can’t believe you were into Eddie.”

Steve flicks Robin’s knee. “I can’t believe you were into Tammy.”

“What’s wrong with Tammy?!” Robin protests.

“What’s wrong with Eddie?” Steve counters. “At least he’s actually got talent. Tammy’s a total dud - she wants to be a singer and shit but she can’t even hold a tune.”

Eddie is going to die. He is actually going to die right here, right now, because Steve Harrington thinks he’s hot and talented. And then Steve starts mimicking Tammy, singing Total Eclipse of the Heart in a ridiculously goofy voice, and now Eddie is going to die because he finds that so stupidly endearing and adorable. Maybe he should just flush himself down the toilet, save himself from this hopelessly pathetic crush of his. Instead, he’s saved by the bathroom doors bursting open again and a new voice shouting at them, “Okay. What the hell?!”

Steve and Robin collapse into a fit of giggles before being dragged to their feet by the newcomers and led out of the bathroom, leaving Eddie alone and reeling and struggling to process literally everything he’s just overheard. He finally hops down from his toilet perch and exits the stall like he’s in a daze. He’s not sure how long he had been camped out in there - probably only about ten minutes - but it felt like hours, so long that the world outside of that single bathroom stall almost feels foreign and unfamiliar now.

Eddie grips the bathroom sink and stares at his flustered reflection in the mirror and whispers to himself, “What the actual fuck?”

---

Later, years later, only after he and Steve are already dating, Eddie tells him all about this experience, and Steve laughs so hard he nearly cries.

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pippuns · 1 year

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pre-transmigration cumplanes because they are the most divorced guys who never met

#svsss #scum villains self saving system #cumplane #cucumberplane #shen yuan #shang qinghua #shen qingqiu #pippart #these guys are so funny. i love sy's one sided parasocial hate relationship with sqh #i think sqh should start writing after transmigration again #and that sy should independently find his shitty writing and scathingly critique it anonymously #i need them to complain to each other about each other without realizing it's the other they're talking about #i think that's what sqq should be doing during the three years binghe got eebie deebied #when sqq dies and sqh stops getting correspondence from his new number 1 hater he's like #“oh boy im so happy i finally wrote something that guy likes. or maybe mbj killed him now that im complaining to him and not sqq about him”#and then sqq revives five years later and the second he has a chance he immediately starts catching up on five years of hate writing

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radioroxx · 3 months

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ok posting some silly. martlet from that one sketch but i coloured her 👍 and bonus doodle cuz. i need yall to. i need yall to see the vision ok. do do you see it do you

#undertale yellow #uty martlet #uty starlo #uty north star #uty clover #uty ceroba #uty dalv #roxx art #yes i KNOW martlet isnt fully coloured BUT i prommy im working on something bigger atm ok? ok. ill make up for it #im also prob gonna immediately redesign her again later jfkfnf #edit i cant believe i wrote. resposibity. good lord. its fixed now though

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delta-piscium · 10 months

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Steddie | 1.7k words it is (swedish) midsummer so I wrote this based on my favorite old tradition because I can and will make anything steddie, so like glad midsommar (happy midsummer)

“What are you doing?” Steve asks as he follows Eddie to the hallway where he’s frantically putting on his shoes.

“I almost forgot,” he mutters under his breath not acknowledging Steve at all.

“Forgot what?”

“I can’t believe I almost forgot.”

“Eddie,” Steve says a little louder, more adamant.

He does look up at Steve then and almost looks surprised to see him. As if he’d forgotten he was there, as if they haven’t been hanging out for hours.

“Oh,” he says. “Uhm,” he squints at Steve who waits for him to continue, to explain. He doesn’t.

“Yes?” Steve implores because he would really like an explanation. Eddie had just abruptly stood up halfway through telling Steve about some folklore he’s using in his new campaign, just cut himself off mid-sentence and walked off. Steve doesn’t think it’s especially weird or demanding of him to have questions.

“Did you have other plans that you just now remembered?” Steve frowns, starting to feel unsure when Eddie still isn’t saying anything. It’s just past eleven at night and Steve doesn’t know what plans those would be but he had showed up unannounced earlier in the evening so it’s not impossible that Eddie had plans that Steve interrupted.

“No, no, no,” Eddie assures him finally breaking his silence, “it’s- okay it’s a little silly but I read this thing researching and I want to try it.”

And well, okay then.

Steve raises his eyebrows and waves his hand gesturing for Eddie to go on.

Eddie’s cheeks turn a light pink and he resolutely looks somewhere above Steve’s shoulder instead of at him.

“Midsummer, which is today, is supposed to be this magical night and there are all these traditions and old myths about it.”

Eddie glances at Steve and he smiles. Tries to show he’s listening and wants to know whatever thing Eddie read about.

“And well, okay so there’s this one tradition where you pick seven different kinds of flowers before you go to bed and then put them under your pillow and you’re supposed to dream about who you’re gonna spend your life with.”

Steve blinks, wasn’t expecting that and doesn’t know what to say about it, so, he blinks again.

“Maybe it’s dumb, but with all we’ve seen magic and folklore don’t seem so far-fetched and,” he shrugs, “I wanna try. And like, it’s close to midnight and I don’t know if that’s a rule but I don’t wanna risk messing it up.”

“It- huh,” Steve frowns slightly and looks at his shoes then back at Eddie. “Yeah alright, let’s do it. Can’t hurt right?”

His voice is light, like it’s not a big deal and just a fun thing Eddie read about because that’s what it is, isn’t it? But something about it settles deep in Steve’s gut. Makes it feel important in a way he’s not sure he could explain if he tried. Maybe it’s just the fact that Eddie is getting so worked up about the possibility of dreaming about the person he’s gonna spend his life with when Steve maybe a little bit wishes it would be him, but like, only a little.

Eddie looks at him with wide eyes like he didn’t expect Steve to want to join, like maybe he expected Steve to make fun of him for wanting to do it. But then something seems to switch in him and a slow smile spreads over his face and he gives Steve an exaggerated once over.

“Looking to find your true love huh, Harrington?”

“I thought you said it was the person you spend your life with, not the same as true love necessarily.” Steve quips back because technicalities are easier to argue over than answering that question, especially when Eddie is the one asking.

Eddie shrugs. “Different sources say different things, sometimes it’s true love sometimes it’s who you marry.”

“Well, then I guess we’re both looking to find our true loves?” Steve hedges, drags Eddie down with him if they’re gonna go there.

A soft look passes Eddie’s face before a responds, voice quieter. “Guess we are, yeah.”

They pick their flowers in silence, something about the magic being broken if you speak. Walking around the edge of the woods behind Eddie’s trailer a couple of feet apart, every once in a while coming together or crossing paths.

After, Steve stands in between Eddie’s trailer and his own car. Holding on to his bouquet of seven flowers unsure what to do. He could go home, he should go home, but he doesn’t want to. He did have some beers hours ago and if he was allowed to speak he’d use that as an excuse to not drive and ask Eddie to crash on his couch. Right now he can’t though so he sighs inwardly and turns to his car.

He makes it about two steps before a hand reaches out and grips him around his free wrist stopping him. When he turns around Eddie is giving him a look that very clearly says ‘stop being stupid’ and jerks his head towards the trailer silently telling Steve to go with him. He doesn’t let go though and uses his grip on Steve to drag him along like he can’t be sure Steve will actually listen and follow. As if Steve would ever not follow Eddie.

They quickly get ready for bed. And again when Steve walks toward the couch Eddie grabs him and shakes his head. He waves his arms around a bit like that’s supposed to explain anything but Steve isn’t too bothered about an explanation anyways and easily follows Eddie to his bedroom.

They’ve shared a bed before but always when they’ve been drunk or high so this feels different. Steve is a little glad they can’t speak or he’s sure he’d blurt out something way too revealing about it all.

He avoids looking at Eddie as he tucks his flowers in under his pillow, knows Eddie is doing the same next to him. Is aware of it only being an old myth from a region halfway across the world but there’s a weight to it. Something real and tangible.

He expects it to take a while for him to fall asleep like it always does. For him to twist and turn and lay awake until the early morning. For once though, that doesn’t happen. With the weight of Eddie next to him and to the sounds of his soft breathing and small movements, Steve falls asleep.

And he dreams. He dreams of big brown eyes and bright laughter. Of wild hair and warm arms embracing him. He dreams of growing old next to someone and how every wrinkle on their face tells a story of their shared love.

He wants to stay in the dream forever, desperately tries to hold onto it even as he floats into consciousness. He turns and groans, gets a mess of someone’s hair in his mouth and nose and that’s enough to startle him into full wakefulness.

Eddie grumbles next to him, clearly also just waking up. Steve looks at him, with his wild hair and his big brown eyes that are slowly blinking open and of course. Of course, it was Eddie he dreamed about.

Their eyes meet and Eddie freezes. Eyes widening as he looks back at Steve.

“Oh,” he says.

And yeah, oh.

“Eddie?” Steve asks, unsure of how to bring it up, to ask about it. If he even should?

He puts on a teasing smile, even though he feels like goo inside, but making it lighthearted is all he can think of because what if he’s taking this whole thing way too seriously? Jumping to conclusions?

“Dream of anyone?”

Eddie nods and looks away, “I did.” He says it simply, voice careful.

And maybe it isn’t just Steve.

“Who?” He asks, dropping the teasing tone.

Eddie swallows and looks back at Steve. “The person I wanted to dream of,” he says and it’s not really an answer but he’s looking at Steve so intently he thinks it still might be.

He thinks about Eddie’s quiet but delighted surprise at Steve wanting to join him yesterday. About Eddie dragging him first into his trailer and then into his bed. How they’re so close on Steve’s side of the bed and Eddie must have drifted towards him in his sleep.

He bites his lip to stop his smile from spreading too wide, there’s still a chance he’s misinterpreting things, “yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“And who would that be?” Steve asks, leaning in even closer until he feels Eddie’s small puffs of breath across his face.

“You,” Eddie whispers but Steve hears it clearly.

He takes a moment to bask in it, to let it wash over him before he responds.

“That’s good,” Steve tells him eventually and Eddie’s eyes are so wide and open, and so pretty, “because I dreamt of you.”

He knows it’s cheesy so he doesn’t give Eddie time to respond, just leans in and closes the remaining gap between them. Slots their lips together. Eddie gasps into the kiss, grabs Steve by the hair, and pulls him in. Makes all these cute noises that make Steve want and want and want.

He shifts, goes to put his leg in between Eddie’s to move on top of him and get a better angle. But he only gets halfway before Eddie grabs his hips and twists them around. Pushes Steve flat on his back and straddles him.

He grins down at Steve.

“You think the Scandinavian magic worked or was it just dream psychology and wishful thinking?”

“Does it matter?” Steve asks, way too earnestly. But like, they’ve just spent this whole time doing some true love magic so he thinks it’s fine, “got what I wanted.”

“It’s forever though,” Eddie points out, bending down to bite at Steve’s jaw, “if we believe the old Norse people.”

Steve hears the question there, thinks this might be Eddie’s way of asking what this means to Steve. His way of telling Steve this isn’t just a hookup for him.

“God yeah,” Steve exhales, “I fucking hope so.”

He feels Eddie smile into his neck and grabs his hair, uses it to pull him back and steer him into another kiss.

#listen I wrote this today while actively celebrating midsummer during any break i had so lets just hope it makes sense and isn't riddled #with mistakes but if it is i can only apologize...#literally me with anything ever 'but what if it was steddie tho?' like damn del calm down #posting this after midnight tho so just shhh about it okay? ive been busy busy #me: ill work on my wips #also me immediately: *writes something else*#but it was for the occasion so #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #dels steddie thoughts #my writing #stranger things #steddie fic

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