#I even wrote a thing for these two | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

augustjustice · 8 months

Text

Sharing Smokes Outside the Snow Ball

AO3 Link

It's the Winter of 1999, and Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson are standing outside the Hawkins Middle School Snow Ball, sharing a smoke.

Eddie can't believe he's back here, the whole thing feeling nearly as surreal as that nightmare, wayward Spring Break over ten years ago. He'd barely made it out of that hell hole alive, Steve himself practically having to hold Eddie together as they made their way from Forest Hill to Hawkins Memorial Hospital.

Spring had turned into summer, sweltering and oppressive as Eddie slowly, painfully healed.

There had been bright spots, though. Watching Lucas and Erica squabble during the one-shot campaign he had cooked up just for the party that June. Evenings out beside the Harrington's temperature controlled pool, beer bottle sweating in his hand as he traded a joint back and forth between Argyle and Jonathan, the sound of Robin's cackle loud and bright as she managed to hipcheck Steve into the pool. Steve's own blinding smile--a longtime feature of Eddie's secret high school fantasies--being turned on him the first time he made it from the front doors of the physical therapy clinic to the passenger side of his BMW, without needing any help at all.

But then summer had ended, and Eddie, finally back together again like a character out of a children's nursery rhyme, had packed up his van and headed straight to Chicago, not looking back.

Sure, there'd been post cards sent, phone calls to Dustin and the other Hellfire brats, promises to see everyone soon. Promises that Eddie couldn't keep, even if he wanted to.

Not when he didn't dare set foot in Hawkins, not ever again.

Then, over a decade into his second life as a struggling guitarist by night, record shop employee by day, his cousin Brooke had landed on his doorstep, looking too tired and too young all at once, a bruise around her eye. Behind her, her eleven year old son was studying the apartment hall's tiling.

"I left him." Eddie didn't need an explanation for that one. Her good-for-nothing husband, Nash. "Jake won't be any trouble, he just...needs a place to stay, while I get back on my feet. Somewhere his daddy can't find him. Just for a little while."

Eddie thought of his Mama. And then he called Wayne.

"Shit, Uncle Wayne, I--don't know what to do."

"Come on home now, boy," Wayne said, easy as anything, like Eddie had left only yesterday. "Come on back home."

So Eddie had.

That had been six months ago. And now he was standing in the aforementioned middle school parking lot with Steve 'the Hair' Harrington, while their kids--and wasn't that just a fucking head trip and a half--danced the night away.

"I keep half expecting Click to round the corner screaming my name," Eddie admits as he gives Steve a light. "Remember junior year, I sold to you in the alley behind the gym? Old bat nearly got me that time."

"Remember? I literally had to shove that joint down the front of my shorts, dude," Steve admits, which draws a snort out of Eddie to match his own chuckle. "Most of the guys on the basketball team couldn't move half as fast as you did that day. You practically vanished into the woods before she even made it to the stadium. Totally shoulda gone out for the track team, Eds."

Eddie clutches his chest, as though he's been shot. "Don't speak such blasphemy to me, Harrington."

"Yeah, well, you can quit worrying. Pretty sure she finally retired," Steve tells him, taking a long drag before he's passing the cigarette back to Eddie, even that brief touch enough to send sparks of electricity up Eddie's arm. Then he shoots Eddie that charming, infamous Harrington smile, boyish and cocky, the one that says he's used to getting exactly what he wants. "Even if she's not, I'm head of the PTA. If Higgins tries anything, I'll just threaten not to bring cupcakes to the next bake sale."

"Harrington, my hero," Eddie fakes a swoon, collapsing for a brief second against Steve's shoulder, an excuse to get close.

The theatrics get no rise out of Steve beyond an amused smirk. Even after all these years, he's still used to Eddie's antics, it seems.

"You know, it was total déjà vu," he nods to the middle school gymnasium, all decked out in blue and white, "dropping Sam off here."

Though he's actually gotten to know the Harrington offspring in person since he's been back, Eddie had received the rundown from Dustin and the others on Steve's journey to dadhood in their scattered calls over the years.

The December after Eddie had left, Steve had met a girl, taken her out on a few dates, and accidentally gotten her pregnant.

With Samantha, a name Dustin had proudly persuaded Steve into as the little girl's godfather. Every bit as adorable, now that Eddie had seen her, as the gushing picture the party had painted for him, all big blue eyes and wavy chestnut hair just like her father's.

Steve had gotten down on one knee long before she was born, determined to tie the knot and do right by her mother nearly as soon as he'd heard the news.

The pair had been divorced not even two years later.

"I don't think they were ever really in love," Dustin had informed Eddie one sunny afternoon impromptu of nothing, as always blunt in his honesty. "But you know what Steve is like. He's a hopeless romantic."

Eddie didn't, not exactly. But he's gotten enough glimpses, both back in '86 and much more recently, that he's starting to put the picture together.

Steve draws Eddie out of that particular reverie with another bright laugh. And then he's recounting the memory of Dustin's hair, done up in the infamous Harrington 'do, as Steve pulled up in front of the '84 Snow Ball playing chaperone in his trusty Beemer, long since traded in for the much more affordable sedan he's driving now.

"I demand photographic evidence, Harrington," Eddie insists, smile crooked, that distracting dimple appearing in his right cheek, "you can't conjure up an image like that and then not fork over the goods."

"Hey, man, talk to Dustin. Mrs. Henderson took like...a million pictures that night," Steve laughs.

But he's already mentally going through the album tucked away on a bookcase back at home, positive he's got his own photo to show for it. It'll make for a nice excuse to invite Eddie over for dinner one night.

The subject turns then to their own checkered experiences with school dances.

"Class of '85, baby! That's when they made your 'King Steve' title official," Eddie crows, teasing as he taps Steve once on the nose.

Steve goes a bit cross-eyed, following the movement of his finger.

"Yeah, well, talk about a total let-down of a night. I didn't even bring a date," Steve admits, tone blasé. The truth is, his entire senior year had been something of a disappointed trudge towards graduation, a walk he had taken mostly alone. There had been bright spots--the little band of miscreants he'd fallen into babysitting, for one--but they had all been far outside the walls of Hawkins High. "I'm guessing you weren't around for that? Not really your scene, especially with the Munson Doctrine's strict rules about 'forced conforming.'"

He puts Eddie's words in deliberate air quotes, his turn to give him a teasing smile.

"You're wrong about that one, big boy. I saw them, adorning your glorious locks with the crown." That mischievous smile is back. "We're not that old, dude, don't tell me you already forgot the whole 'prom streaking' incident?"

Eddie shoots him a loaded, deliberate look.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute." Shaking his head with a laugh, Steve waves his arms in front of him, like he's calling a time out. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me. That was you?"

"The one and only. What can I say, Jeff and Gareth dared me. Besides, by that point," Eddie shrugs casually, "I already knew I didn't have a shot at graduating anyway, so. Thought I'd close out the year with a bang."

"You've seriously never considered doing anything halfway in your life, have you, Munson?" Steve asks, giving Eddie's shoulder an almost exasperated nudge, smile fond in spite of himself.

"Absolutely not, Stevie boy. Life's too short. Where's the fun in playing it safe?"

Eddie swings into Steve's space, then, dark eyes sparkling. Goading and flirtatious. Just like when they were teenagers, thrown together in the worst of circumstances but making the best of it, before time and pain and trauma put all that distance between them.

And if Steve's eyes drop down to Eddie's lips as they share air, slow enough it can't be anything but deliberate, and their fingers brush just a tad too intimately the next time they trade the cigarette back and forth...well. They've got a lot of lost time--and shared smokes in school parking lots--to make up for.

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #my stuff #my things #i watched the end of season 2 for the umpteenth time this evening #remembered i always wanted a steddie scene parallel to the jopper smoking scene outside the snow ball #and then wrote this in a fevered haze over the past two hours #so apologies for any mistakes and messiness

357 notes · View notes

dottores · 8 months

Text

YOU GUYS MUST LOOK AT WHAT TEE GOT ME FOR MY BDAY!!!! SHE GAVE IT TO ME EARLY FOR CONGRATULATIONS ON FINISHING MY FIRST WEEK OF LAW SCHOOL

#i’m going to explain why it’s so special and you all will listen #ONE this is literally based off a little drabble she wrote for me while i was sad and the drabble was my favorite thing ever and it #literally made me cry sobs #TWO look at the DRESS!!!!!! it fits in with all of my other comms and i’m so happy because i love having consistency with my comms it makes #so happy #THREE #she got it from my FAVORITE ARTIST EVER ??? SOBS THATS SO SPECIAL TO ME I LOVE THIS ARTIST SO MUCH SHES MY GO TO ARTIST #and my face looks so pretty and even the couch and the background matches my other comms and i’m sniffling cuz i love it sm 🥹#quite literally the best way to finish off my first week of school 🥹#sobs this is so special to me i’m literally making it the new background on my watch so i can stare at it during class forever #this is the bestest birthday gift ever sobs i cry so hard it’s so thoughtful & in depth with my ss AND my fav artist ever i’m sobbing #— selfships

210 notes · View notes

suspiciouslackofclowns · 8 months

Text

Maybe instead of getting better after Starcourt, instead of healing and mending that which has been broken, Billy just gets worse.

There’s no more playful grins behind cigarettes or keg stands held in good fun. No more speeding down empty backroads or engines revving in parking lots. He gets quiet, and that’s the scary part.

Because as soon as someone presses him to talk, he gets mean.

He outright says no when he’s asked to keep an eye on Max, because there are no repercussions anymore — his wounds from the “fire” haven’t healed just yet, and if he shows up in the hospital with new bruises over freshly cracked ribs, the doctors will suspect something.

So the most he gets is a glare from Neil and a stern do it or else.

And Billy, a believer of malicious compliance, picks himself up a walkie-talkie. Does whatever the fuck he wants while the thing sits on his dresser.

If any voices come through, he shuts it off, or at the very least tunes it to a channel that only he and Max use.

She knows better than to use it.

Things between them aren’t any less tense than before, but it’s different now. Now he knows.

So the playing field is even.

He doesn’t meddle in Max’s business, who she hangs around, and Max doesn’t burden him with asking for rides and things alike. Not that he could really do much with his car sitting in the junkyard — Harrington has taken over the task of chauffeur anyway.

Harrington, who apparently also picked himself up a walkie-talkie.

And who somehow managed to learn about Billy and Max’s private channel.

“Hargrove? You there?”

The voice is staticky over the radio, but not out of range. After the brief moment of shock passes, Billy rolls his eyes at the thought of Harrington parked down the block, sitting behind the wheel of his Beamer listening intently for a response.

Rather than reach over to his nightstand, Billy rolls over to face the wall.

His sheets have become more of a nest as of late. Gathered around him in piles because he prefers the chill on his skin to sweating beneath scratchy blankets.

He hasn’t changed the bedding in weeks. Hasn’t opened the blinds or really even left his room at all this summer — the pool has likely already filled his position. Not that he’d be going back any sooner than a year or two from now.

If he ever feels comfortable taking his shirt off again.

“Billy? Look, I know you’re there, man. Max said that this was the channel to reach you on, and—“

Billy snatches the walkie-talkie and holds the button down.

“Go fuck yourself. Over.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then static pours through. Likely the air conditioning in Harrington’s car.

“Touchy,” he tuts. Exhales a heavy sigh and blows a raspberry. “Don’t always have to be such a dick, y’know.”

“Being a dick isn’t something all of us have to try at, rich boy, so put your shit in gear and get off my block.”

There’s another brief pause.

“How’d you know I was in your neighborhood?”

“Walkies don’t work out-of-range, fuckhead.”

“Damn, okay,” Harrington huffs. “Sue me for wondering how you were doing.”

Wondering how I’m doing?

“Wondering how I’m doing?” Billy repeats.

He stares up at the ceiling, brows pinched together.

“Yeah? Y’know, like checking up on you?”

“Why?”

For months, Billy has done nothing but rot in his bed. Too sore to move, too short-fused to bother talking about it.

Too guilty to open any of the get-well-soon cards that he’s received.

Among the poorly-addressed ones with crayon scribbles from his former swimming students, he recalls one almost equally as poorly-addressed dawning the signature Steve Harrington at the bottom.

It was the only envelope he’d bothered to open. Practically had to rip it up with his teeth because of the lack of dexterity in his fingers, though, he never worked up the nerve to dial the number scrawled at the bottom.

Harrington scoffs over the channel.

“It’s like you’ve died or something, man. It’s worrying.”

Disregarding the flush spreading across his cheeks, Billy rolls his eyes and spreads out more atop his comforter.

“If you’re so worried, why didn’t you just ask Max?”

“If she answered my questions, do you think I’d be on this channel right now?”

Billy presses his lips into a line.

He knows he hasn’t been the best brother. Quite the opposite, actually.

But it still aches to learn that Max apparently refuses to so much as talk about him. Makes his limbs sink deeper into the mattress like gravity has doubled down on him.

Makes him want to shut his walkie off and never turn it back on.

“Well, you’re a few months too late on your check-up, Harrington,” Billy rasps. He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head at the sound of his own voice coming out so wet and pathetic. “Walking corpse at this point.”

A beat of silence persists. Then the static comes through again.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I have a therapist that already doesn’t help, thank you.”

“Well, if you change your mind…” Harrington trails off. He holds the talk button down for a long beat, absently tapping his fingers against the door panel in his car. Then, he sighs. “Is it okay if I use this channel again?”

Billy’s vision blurs and he sniffles. Thankful that it can’t be heard by anyone but himself.

“Yeah,” he says, and his voice shakes with it.

And that’s how Billy’s radio goes from being dead silent to constantly filling his room with chatter.

It helps and it hinders all at once.

Billy smiles for what feels like the first time in over a year, and laughs, even. But each time Harrington tells a little joke or giggles over the channel, Billy’s heart starts to ache more deeply.

It opens up old wounds.

He feels like Neil knows, somehow, when they’re both in the kitchen together. Accompanied by nothing but silence.

Neil asks if he can babysit for the weekend, and Billy drops the mug that was in his hand with a shaky wrist, fearing an entirely different question that doesn’t even get asked.

When Neil would normally berate him, he simply watches the way that Billy flexes his fingers. The way that he makes a weak fist, unable to straighten his fingers completely once he relaxes them, and his brows pinch in mild worry.

“Still havin’ trouble?” Neil asks.

His voice is gentle enough that Billy’s eyes well with tears as he nods. Bites his lip to keep it from wobbling.

Neil pulls him into a hug and Billy sobs into his shoulder. Not because of the pain or disability, but because he thinks he’s let a hint of love creep back into his life after all this time.

Which should be a good thing.

For once, Billy agrees to watching Max, if only because he doesn’t have the energy to snark back right now. Neil pats his shoulder and gives it a squeeze. Asks if he’s sure, like it’d be no issue at all for him and Susan to cancel their weekend plans.

Billy can’t help that he huffs a laugh. Can’t help that it comes out sounding closer to a scoff.

Why be accommodating now, after a lifetime of neglect and maltreatment? He shakes his head to himself, and his expression must give his thoughts away.

Neil digs his thumb hard into his shoulder, earning a stifled whimper and another influx of tears.

Billy cleans up the broken mug and wipes the liquid away from the floor by himself, knelt on his achy knees while he’s watched like a hawk from the doorway. Like he might shove the glass under the counter if he’s left unsupervised for even a second.

Over the weekend while their folks are away, Billy takes Max out to pick up a couple of movies and get a few snacks with Susan’s car.

Since he so scarcely leaves the house, he turns a few heads when people recognize him.

None so much as Harrington, who gawks at him from behind the fucking desk at Family Video. Billy glares hard at Max when she smirks at him before disappearing to the horror section.

The brunet is a bit more rugged than Billy recalls. Has a stronger jawline and more hair. Lots more hair.

It makes Billy feel especially pathetic, draped in a t-shirt that used to fit his figure well, but now swallows him more than anything.

That heavy feeling droops his shoulders down. He shoves his hands into his pockets and looks away nonchalantly when Harrington abandons his station, leaving Buckley behind the counter floundering at the register.

“Look who’s out ‘n about,” Harrington chuckles. He has no issue reaching out and setting his hands on Billy’s biceps, moving close as if to inspect him. “Have I always been this much taller than you?”

Billy flushes red and straightens his posture. Brings himself back up to eye-level, which spurs a dull pain in his spine. He must not do well in terms of hiding it, because the brunet’s brows furrow.

“Do you wanna sit down?”

Rather than respond right away, Billy huffs and waves Harrington off of him. Shoots Max another glare when he spies her watching the exchange from behind a shelf.

“All I fuckin’ do is sit,” Billy grumbles. “If I knew I was gonna get a pity parade I would’a just sent the shitbird in.”

Harrington nods to himself. Takes half a step back and smiles.

“Alright with standing, then. Got it.” He tilts his head to the side. Eyes never leaving Billy for even a second. “Your hair’s grown out a lot.”

His gaze is a fond one. Like they aren’t in public right now. Like Billy is his damn girlfriend on prom night, and he’s seeing the gown for the first time.

Billy shrugs. Absently toys with one of the curls that dangles over his collar bone.

That weird pit is back in his stomach. The one that leaves him crying in the dark when Harrington signs off after hours of chatting about everything and nothing at once.

Billy wonders where he parks his car when they talk for that long. If he’s right outside or in the deep quiet of the woods, where the stars can really be seen and the train shakes the ground.

He’d rather Steve just climb through his window.

“I like it,” Steve adds. Nudges Billy’s elbow with his own. “It’s a soft look. Fits you really well.”

“Are you this nice to all the girls that come in here, or just the ones you wanna pork?” Billy teases.

Steve laughs, and it sounds so much better in person. Billy wants nothing more than to bottle it up and keep it forever.

Before the brunet can come back with a snide little joke of his own, Max meanders up to them. Holds up a few tapes for Billy to approve. Without really looking them over, he hands her the cash, and they all move back to the register together.

Steve rings them up. Max pays. Everything is so much slower than it should be going, like he’s trying to prolong the encounter as much as he can.

Billy understands the feeling.

When Steve slides Max the receipt, he’s less smiley. Billy turns to face the door, but doesn’t miss the way that Max nabs a pen and scrawls something on the slip of paper before sliding it back towards Steve.

Billy decides not to pry. Fears that if he asks, he’ll find that it’s some secret nerd shit that he can’t be privy to.

Fears that the heavy feeling will bear down on him again.

He doesn’t have to ask, turns out. The phone rings later that night, and Billy’s blood pressure spikes when Steve’s voice pours over the line.

“You should come out more often,” he says easily. “Really need some sun.”

Billy just tsks. They wind up sitting on the line for a little under half an hour. Billy wishes it lasted longer.

But he’d rather not explain the minutes away when his father shows him the phone bill.

Just before they hang up, after giggling at each other nearly the entire time, Billy barks out, “Don’t call here again.”

Then he hangs up.

Steve, naturally, gets on the radio not a few seconds later. Giggles and says, “Okay, dick. You can call me from now on.”

They stay up for practically the rest of the night talking.

Billy stares up at the ceiling and wonders how long this little thing between them will last.

He starts to question it more when Steve actually, by some miracle, convinces him to come out a handful of times.

The brunet is really touchy. Always has an arm around Billy’s shoulders or a hand on his back, and constantly bumps their knees together when they’re sitting down. Billy feels stupid for wanting more.

Why, he doesn’t know, because he’s fairly certain that he could ask for anything at this point.

Steve never calls again and that’s okay.

Billy prefers hearing whispers over the radio anyway.

It’s one evening in particular that Max is out of the house for the night, away at the Chief’s place for a sleepover, that the pit in Billy’s stomach turns into a black hole.

Steve has been ranting about his manager for the last half hour, only stopping to mention how a movie cover reminded him of Billy. How he couldn’t even wait to get home before he turned his radio on and pressed to talk to him.

The black hole consumes Billy before he can catch the words leaving his mouth.

“Do you like me?” he hears himself ask.

His voice gets choked up, and the second he lifts his finger off of the button, he rolls over and screams into his pillow. Quiet enough that Neil and Susan won’t hear, but hard enough to let a fraction of the tension out.

“Obviously,” Steve says. “Why else would I be friends with you?”

Billy presses his face harder into the pillow.

He can feel the pressure building behind his eyes. Feel the blistering heat of fresh tears and the throb in his temples as he huffs a strangled sigh into the pillow. Before he can even decide between turning the walkie off or fabricating a response, static pours through.

“Jesus Christ, Steve, he means do you have feelings for him,” Max groans.

There’s a beat of silence.

“What? Rea—“

“What the fuck are you doing on this channel?” Billy interrupts.

He can feel the veins in his neck straining from how hard he’s clenching his jaw. Can practically see red when giggles pour through the radio.

A red hot flush of shame paints Billy’s face when he realizes that Eleven is listening in too.

“What are you still doing on this channel? If you didn’t want us to eavesdrop, you should’ve switched forever ago.”

“How long have you been listening to us talk?” There’s a beat of silence. Billy huffs. “Max. How long?”

“How long have you and Steve been talking?” Max asks.

Her rhetorical question is accompanied by giggles that are cut off when she lifts her finger from the button.

There’s nothing but silence for a moment. Then two.

Billy’s vision blurs as he sets his walkie down on his nightstand. The cold fingers of embarrassment wrap around him and drag him down, lower than he’s ever been drug before.

He’s ruined everything.

His sister not only hates him, but she knows about him now, and the only guy he’s ever let himself truly like is going to want nothing more to do with him after this.

Not for the first time since Starcourt, he wishes that monster had killed him.

“Billy?” Steve asks gently. When there’s no response, he sighs. “Look, we can figure out the channel thing some other time, but… was she right? Is that what you were trying to ask me?”

Silence. Then, giggles.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I’m right,” Max teases.

“Radio silence,” Steve snaps. “Now.”

His tone is stern. Brotherly in a way that should be surprising, but isn’t, really.

“Signing off…” Max says dejectedly.

Astonishingly, the channel falls silent. Billy sniffles as he reaches over to paw at his nightstand, curling his fingers weakly around the radio.

He doesn’t press the button. Tries to swallow his silent sobs in a failed attempt to compose himself first.

“Billy?” Steve coos, voice much softer now. “If you don’t wanna talk over the radio, that’s fine, but—“

“Yes,” Billy rasps.

A beat of silence.

“Yes?”

“She was right.”

Billy winces at how broken his voice sounds. A whistle pours through the radio.

“Oh, man,” Steve chuckles, and Billy’s heart sinks. “The boy of my dreams wants to know if I have feelings for him? Are you dense?”

There’s a crisp millisecond of confusion before Billy presses the button.

“What?”

“Of course I like you, dude.”

Billy inhales like he just resurfaced for air for the first time in years.

“Why?” he breathes.

“You’re funny, smart, surprisingly sweet, and pretty easy on the eyes. Just for starters.”

If his heart was thumping fast before, it’s going light-speed now. All he can do for a few beats is focus on controlling his breathing.

“You don’t like me,” he murmurs. “Trust me, Steve, I’m fucked up.”

“You aren’t the only one who’s a little fucked up.” Steve hums a laugh to himself. “And I do like you. You’re not gonna be changing my mind about it anytime soon.”

“What if I told you to go fuck yourself?”

“I’d tell you that you don’t always have to be such a dick.”

A tiny hint of a smile creeps its way onto Billy’s face when he hears Steve chuckle.

His eyes are dry. The pool of dread in his belly has begun to drain, and he feels the slightest bit hopeful.

“If you’re so sure, then I guess picking me up for dinner and a movie sometime won’t be difficult for you, will it?”

Steve sighs fondly at the notion.

“Are you asking me out?”

“Are you accepting?”

There’s a brief pause. Billy’s unable to keep from smiling giddily to himself.

“Depends,” Steve lilts. “Gonna open your window?”

There’s a light tap on the glass. Billy pushes himself up and draws the blinds, revealing a grinning brunet standing about a foot below, holding his walkie-talkie.

Billy tosses his on the bed before he opens the window and leans his elbows against the ledge.

“Is this the part where you ask me to let down my hair?” he teases.

Steve chuckles, but furrows his brows as he steps closer to the house.

“Were you crying?”

Taken aback by the question, Billy wipes his eyes with the heel of his palm. Shrugs nonchalantly, which doesn’t seem to be the answer that Steve was looking for.

“I was expecting things to go a bit differently,” Billy admits.

Steve frowns, and the expression doesn’t look right on him. He reaches up. Settles his hand on Billy’s forearm, smoothing his thumb back and forth against his skin until Billy shifts to dangle his arm out the window.

The pads of Steve’s fingers are soft where he holds Billy’s hand, clasped and suspended in the air together.

Billy really does feel like Rapunzel for a moment.

“I can be a little thick-skulled sometimes,” Steve says softly. “You’re always talking about yourself like you’re some unsalvageable disaster, so when you asked me if I liked you, my mind instantly went there. I wanted to make you sure you knew for certain that I do.”

He gives a little half smile. Billy squeezes his hand gently. Hopes that Steve doesn’t notice how weak his grip is.

“It’s not like I really gave you any context clues.”

“True. You didn’t.”

“I am a bit of a disaster, though. Feels like I’m only good at messing things up sometimes,” Billy sighs. “Max already hates me, and when I thought for a second that you might too, everything felt so lost.”

Steve makes a face.

“I would never, and I’d like to point out that Max doesn’t either.”

Billy blinks. Huffs amusedly, and as always, it comes out sounding closer to a scoff.

“Pretty sure she does. You’ve said yourself that she wouldn’t even talk when you asked about me.”

After thinking on it for a brief moment, Steve laughs.

“Yeah, man, ‘cause she bites the head off of anyone who asks about you. Definitely told me to mind my fucking business more than once.”

Again, Billy just blinks.

He never considered that maybe it was a protective thing and not a shame thing. The revelation has a surprising amount of weight lifting off of his shoulders.

“Definitely sounds like her,” he says.

They share a chuckle. Billy flattens his other forearm against the windowsill and rests his chin against it.

“Thanks for trying to lift me up earlier?” he muses. “Didn’t really work in the moment, but still.”

Steve softly swings their hands from side to side and sighs.

“I can tell. Your eyes are all puffy.”

“Should’a seen me the other night.”

The brunet cocks his head to the side in mild confusion.

“What happened the other night?” he asks. “Didn’t mention anything while we were talking.”

“It was, ah… after we signed off for the night. It’s no big deal, really. I cry after most of our talks.”

Billy looks away. Steve squeezes his hand.

“I’m sorry.”

“‘S okay,” Billy rasps.

His eyes prick with tears again and Steve steps closer. Drops his walkie-talkie in the grass and reaches up with his free hand to cup Billy’s cheek.

“Oh, you’re just a big crybaby, huh?” he coos. Billy chuckles sadly and leans into his touch. “If I’d known, I would’ve snuck over here sooner.”

“My old man checks in on me sometimes, so it’s probably better that you stay in your car.”

“Well, do you have a curfew? I’d love to steal you away every now and again and kiss your cute, stuffy nose.”

Billy sniffles, and chuckles again. Wipes his eyes with his free hand and shrugs.

“Haven’t really had anywhere to go ‘till now,” he says.

Steve nods.

“You eaten yet?”

A smile cracks across Billy’s face. Steve mirrors the expression.

“You buying?”

“I’ll spend my entire paycheck on burgers and fries if it gets you outta this fuckin’ room. I swear sometimes it’s like pulling teeth.”

They share a chuckle, and Billy sits up. Flushes red when Steve presses a kiss to his knuckles.

“Gimme a sec.”

Again, Steve nods. He’s slow to release the blond when he pulls away, and Billy can’t help that he’s grinning like an idiot as he opens the door and pads out of his room.

He finds Neil and Susan in the living room watching tv. Makes up some lie about a few friends having a kickback. Even goes as far as to apologize for the short notice.

His folks share a look. Susan spreads a big smile and sets her hand on Billy’s bicep.

“No worries, sweetheart. Go ahead,” she says. “Have fun, alright?”

“Will you be coming back tonight?” Neil asks.

Billy stays quiet for a moment. Then two, just processing, and eventually shakes his head.

“It’ll probably be too late,” he says, and clears his throat. “I have somewhere else lined up, though.”

He winces at his own words, regret beading on his skin like a cold sheen of sweat.

Neil nods. Turns his attention back to the tv.

“Just stay outta trouble.”

And that’s it.

Nothing more is said, but Billy still stands there like he’s waiting for something else to happen.

When nothing does, he nods curtly and pads back down the hallway to his room, deciding not to press his luck by letting them think too hard on it. Once he has the door shut behind him, he’s immediately leaning out the window again.

Steve has his walkie back in his hands, rocking back and forth patiently on the balls of his feet while he waits. He smiles when he notices that the blond has reappeared.

“What’d they say?”

“Go get your car, I’ll be ready by the time you pull up.”

Billy leans back. Grabs the window and shuts it just as Steve nods enthusiastically. Turns on his heel and jogs off of the lawn and back towards the street.

Giddy, warm feelings pool and buzz in Billy’s stomach as he digs through his drawers for jeans that he hasn’t worn in forever. Already has a date-worthy outfit in mind as he unfolds a pair.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when static pours through the radio still sitting idly on his bed.

“Update?” Max asks.

Billy rolls his eyes. Moves to grab it when another voice comes through.

“We’re goin’ steady,” Steve informs, out of breath.

“Yes!” Max shouts.

Then, a third voice comes through.

“Finally! Jesus,” Dustin huffs.

There’s a beat of silence, followed by Steve panting when he presses the talk button.

“How many of you dickheads are on this channel?”

“Just two?” Mike says. “Technically, since we’re only using two walkie’s.”

There’s laughter over the radio, and Billy rolls his eyes. Can’t really find it in himself to be mad right now with all of the butterflies swirling in his tummy.

“You’re all banned from the front seat of my car,” Steve huffs. “And the wedding, when it happens.”

“No! I wanted to be the flower girl!” Eleven whines.

“I was gonna walk you down the aisle,” Dustin adds.

“Good luck finding another officiant, then, I guess,” Lucas says with a scoff.

More laughter is had. Max and Mike chime in with various jokes about ring-bearers and bridesmaids, but they’re cut off when Steve presses to talk again.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I highly recommend switching channels.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Max muses.

Billy can practically hear the smirk in Steve’s voice when he speaks next.

“‘Cause I’m gonna start using this one for sex stuff, and it’s gonna get real weird real fast, so be warned.”

Multiple groans and sounds of disgust pour through the radio.

“Yuck,” Max says. “Switching channels.”

“Ditto,” Dustin adds.

Then silence. True silence.

Billy grabs his walkie.

“We really gonna have phone sex over the radio?” he muses.

Steve laughs. The subtle rumble of the engine is audible from the street as his car pulls up to the curb.

“Not if you hurry up and get your ass out here already.”

The blond bites his lip. Can’t believe for the life of him how light he feels. How, for once, he feels better for having survived car wrecks and slimy monsters in the dark.

Feels like letting someone new into his life won’t cause him grief this time around.

“On my way, pretty boy.”

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #max mayfield #billy & max #the party stranger things #disabled billy hargrove #fluff and angst #tw abuse #internalized homophobia #it’s important to me that Neil is shown being more than a two dimensional mma fighter when it comes to his relationship w Billy #so I wrote him a little differently based on my own personal experiences with abusive parents #also mainly wrote this to show that Billy deserves love and compassion even if he doesn’t start making steps towards bettering himself #because healing begins with support!!#ficlet #my writing #unedited #billy antis dni

199 notes · View notes

drawnfamiliarfaces · 14 days

Note

i've never even seen the show First is from and yet i love your First x Chase Young ship so i have to ask. If anything did HAPPEN between the two of them what sort of emotions would they be dealing with afterwards?

Wow, this is such an unexpectedly nice compliment for me? Cause it means, you are a Chase/XS fan, who saw my crack ship and went 'I don't know what's going on, but I enjoy your silly little ship, funny crossover shipper.' and you know what? It's very nice and made me happy. ;) Thank you!

And well who said nothing ever happened between them lol IF anything happened between those two (be it emotional or physical ;3), their default way of dealing it would be DENIAL DENIAL DENIAL, in similar but also in slightly different ways.

Chase Young is a man who seemingly doesn't do softer emotions. Any possible feelings and reactions who could be attributed to him actually caring about First Ninja, are re-labeled in his head into him doing all of this because he is trying to manipulate First on his side (and he totally still is, but he also now wants to feed that man, talk with him during long evenings and perhaps take a nap with him, you know, disgusting cute domestic stuff amidst oh i dunno- taking over the world and being evil together. >;))

First Ninja on the other hand, is very much aware that for things to go this far means that he is absolutely having emotions about Chase. But he is also in denial, because how can he betray all of his moral standing and beliefs, if he starting to care about someone like Chase Young? So he shoves it so far deep, he is in denial about denial, and turns completely blind to anything even resembling them being something more than opponents who tentavely respect one another.

#que?#ninja showdown #my immortal soul #is it strange that out of those two i absolutely view Chase is the one who would voice out his wishes& feelings first #if only because Chase Young isn't one to deny himself things he really wants #(of course he has to realize that he wants them in that way first and that might take awhile)#and First Ninja is the one who WOULD deny himself anything just because it doesnt line up with his responsibilities and morals #even if he most likely will be the one to realize his emotions first. he also would have hard time believing sincerity of Chase's feelings #a very strange juxtaposition between the one who puts himself first and the one who never puts himself first #also not gonna lie. I wrote out. like several paragraphs about my headcanons about physical intimacy between those two &how they view it #but than I realized that its probably TMI for an anon ask that didnt ask for that xD so i decided not to subject you to my rants &deletedit #but still sorry

67 notes · View notes

justxtalking · 1 year

Text

a killugon detail i fell in love with

At the end of the Zoldyck Family arc, when Gon finally reaches the mansion with Kurapika and Leorio, and gets to see Killua again, Killua and Gon get really excited and laugh at the other's appearance.

I've always loved this short moment. After all they went through, it's still a moment in which they can be happy and excited, they can laugh and just be kids. They are both injured, and they know it. However, instead of talking about it or make awkward pauses, they laugh it off.

Since both of them are hurt, they stand on the same ground. Because of it, even though they may be worried about the other, they don't need to talk about it or explain themselves. They are not even obliged to mention what happened, despite probably knowing the reason why they look like that. There's not a moment in which they feel bad for the other, they are just thrilled to see their new friend again.

Not only this, but also the fact they were both hurt because of the other and under the orders of the same people (the Zoldycks).

In Gon's case, he wanted to reach Killua, so he stood his ground and got through every obstacle. Even when Canary hit him several times to make him leave and everyone was thinking he wouldn't be able to reach Killua, he persevered. He was hit because he wanted to see Killua again.

In Killua's case, he must have thought he wasn't going to see Gon ever again while being punished. He had to go through weeks of punishment because he left, disobeyed his family and made a friend. He was hit because he met Gon.

I love the fact that neither Gon nor Killua needed to talk about what happened. They were both injured, so there's no awkwardness nor drama and, even visually, it makes them equal. It's such a small detail, but I fell in love with it. Such a sweet moment for such sweet kids. The start of their new beginning!

316 notes · View notes

drbtinglecannon · 1 year

Text

It's actually kinda sexy of Caleb & Evelyn to haunt the narrative so thoroughly while never having any speaking lines or even appearing on screen outside of 400yr old repressed memories, delusions, and/or hyped up folklore

We don't even know for sure if Evelyn was a Clawthorne, or what she looked like, or how the fight between Caleb and Philip went down, or Caleb's reasons for leaving without Philip, or what their half witch half human baby looked like, or how long after Caleb left before Philip found him again, or what Evelyn did when she discovered her dead lover's grave was robbed, or how quickly after killing Caleb did Philip decide "I can make a new Caleb that's Better™"

We have scraps to give us pretty good ideas for most of these, but nope they really just haunt with no reward. Like yeah babes give us nothing!

#toh #toh spoilers #remember how it took all the way til KT to hear belos drop the name ''caleb'' but then the subtitles wrote it wrong so it became even more #of a theory fight & then it took until TTT for fucking masha to explicitly name drop caleb AND evelyn???? AND give us any scraps of lore???#like we had so much foundation for it all but it took til the 3rd to last episode to finally confirm SOME of it & it was done in a way #that is unreliable bc its all legend & thats so hilarious in a mean way #caleb wittebane #evelyn clawthorne #philip wittebane #LIKE YEAH WE CAN SAFELY ASSUME MOST OF THIS STUFF BUT ITS NEVER ACTUALLY EXPLICT. THE GRAYNESS OF IT ALL #tc posts #my last hyperfixation before s2b aired & toh seized my life again was dgs & IT DOES THE SAME THING THERE IS ALSO A TRIO OF 2 MEN 1 WOMAN #THAT HAUNT THE NARRATIVE & THE WOMAN IS NEVER FULLY NAMED OR FULLY SHOWN & THE TWO MEN ALSO HAVE A DUEL TO THE DEATH LIKE. & NO WE GET #BASICALLY NOTHING ON ANY OF THEM EXCEPT HOW MUCH THEIR DEATHS FUCKED EVERYTHING UP. THEY HAUNT THE NARRATIVE SO MUCH #its a ''2 nickels which isnt a lot but its weird it happened twice in a row'' situation for me tbh #yes im disappointed we didnt get a fuller pic of the wittebane lore but also i kinda like its a vague thing of the past bc thats what it is

220 notes · View notes

dootznbootz · 2 months

Text

Odypen definitely and equivalently adore each other BUT I weirdly can't see them as the type to actually say "I Love you".

They still definitely vocalize their love for each other but it's more so in "My Joy", and "Extraordinary Woman", "Strange Woman/Man", etc. And very cheesy lines (both say some cheesy shit in the Odyssey, and he definitely does in the Iliad as well. "Joy like a drowning sailor seeing land" bit???)

I could see "I adore you" but even then, that's probably during very specific moments but the actual "I love you"??? I just typed it just now for fic shit and... It weirdly just didn't feel right and I don't know why. 😅

Idk maybe it's kind of because I see them as over the top in ways, they love wordplay and riddles and I think they'd almost think "...That's not good enough >:( " about it??? I don't know???😂

#I wrote this last night. I'll do the asks I got later. don't worry! :D #I am the cheese god remember?😅#I think these two would try to “out-cheese” each other and whoever is left speechless first loses #“I would forget my own name before I would ever forget you” bullshit. CHEESY #And yes. “I sleep in our nest with you or outside on the dirt” stupidity >:D #I plan for Odysseus as a beggar to ask why she waits so long. As he's been gone a longer amount of time than the time they had together #(Simply asking as reassurance. He knows his answer. Calypso asked him. but what about Penelope?) but she gets mad at the #“Beggar” and pities him as he must be telling the truth about having a miserable life if he never got the chance to know such devotion #How what they have could never be sullied by #something as trivial as distance and years. How the years with him were the best in her life. Only made better by their son.#'My dear Joy made songs and poems about love a reality as that was simply the life we shared. Even separated our 'song' will always echo #no matter how long it's been. I'LL make sure it always does. And I know he's doing the same... That strange man used to say that #even if he died his corpse would drag itself back to us before he'd ever give up.'#...I'm not one for 'odyssey zombie au' but when I first heard it yeah. :'D Came up with this back then #“His eyes as hard as flint or horn-” Bullshit! The sad lil fuck is hiding sobs with coughs and telling her to keep away for fear of her #catching whatever “illness” he has. The nice thing about being disguised as old means sickly old man works.#...#I'm noticing that Odysseus has a lot of silly oneliners while I write Penelope with a shit ton of set up :'D #They are so silly and I love them so much #...I wrote a lot :'D #Mad rambles #shot by odysseus #my headcanons #odypen #yahoo!!!#sometimes I wonder if I should tag this with more things but I don't want to taint the regular tags with my bullshit :'D I KNOW I'm insane

44 notes · View notes

qsmpbutwithsignlanguage · 3 months

Text

I spent, like, a half hour looking for this clip because I think that you all need to see it.

Quackity:

"That's one of the cooler things. I saw a creator from Brazil, it seems, who actually claimed that they were getting people-someone who's not in the QSMP-they said they were getting people in their chat who doesn't-who don't speak Portuguese. It's a Brazilian creator who's not even on QSMP, and he was talking about the effects-possibly-of that crossing of communities with the QSMP. Which is amazing, and I find that so, so cool. And it makes me really happy because, at the end of the day, that's what-that's what the server is meant to do-is help communities from different parts of the world cross each other. And I find it amazing. What I find so beautiful about this chat specifically is that being the English streams, English is the more common language spoken, right? And what I find so amazing about this chat is when something funny happens I see people saying 'hahaha' in English, 'jajaja' in Spanish, and the 'kkkk', which is how, you know, Portuguese speaking people usually type to laugh. And that's amazing. That's three different languages in one chat and I think that kind of crossover is so incredibly important."

(ignore the odd title, not my video, but important anyhow)

>>>

youtube

When I give praise for Quackity, for the QSMP as a whole, this is why. Quackity is genuinely doing some groundbreaking stuff, and I think that, in a sense, he's paving the way for future creators.

#qsmp #quackity #this is why I say Quackity deserves streamer of the year #and I know it's such a cheesy thing to say #but I circle back to this clip time and time again #because it just kind of punches me in the gut #this man has done so much for streaming and he deserves all the good things that come his way #qsmp quackity #transcript #if I wrote this paragraph in an assignment my language arts teacher would shoot me dead /srs #she would hate me SO much #I have the Portuguese reading comprehension of a two year old child who has seen a total of five books in their life #but I still find myself hoping onto Portuguese streams and struggling my way though Portuguese media #I can't understand much #and I can communicate even less #but I still join in #And it's because of the QSMP. Because of the things Quackity has done and because of every streamer on the QSMP #guest streamers and all #and every streamer on Karmaland as an extension #They're paving a new path when it comes to streaming #That's a fact that shouldn't be taken lightly #Youtube

45 notes · View notes

straight4joekeery · 1 year

Text

Eddie: What? I'm not aggressive!

Steve: Last Tuesday, you wacked me with a pair of crocs and stole my chocolate chips?

Eddie: Survival of the fittest, bitch.

~~~~~~~~~

Eddie: That’s the longest worm I’ve ever seen.

Steve: That’s a snake.

~~~~~~~~~

Steve: State your name, rank, and intention.

Eddie: Eddie, Eddie, fun.

~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie: I can’t believe all these people are wearing black. black is supposed to be my thing, they’re all just posers.

Steve: Eddie, for the last time, we’re at a funeral.

~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie: Which is correct, seven and five IS thirteen, or seven and five ARE thirteen?

Steve: Neither.

Steve: Because it's twelve.

~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie: I need you to come meet me, and I need you to come alone.

Steve: And I need you to be less vague and weird.

~~~~~~~~~~

Steve: I have to say, I'm a little embarrassed for you.

Eddie: This is a sports-related injury. It makes me look cool!

Steve: Tripping over a basketball on your way to the bathroom is not cool!

~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie: Hey there Vecna, It's me, ya boi.

Steve: Eddie, NO!

~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie: I was going to suggest we do Marilyn Monroe and JFK roleplay, but I’d get way too into it.

Steve: What- how?

Eddie: You’d be like “come to bed … Mr. President” and I’d be like, “I need to increase the amount of American military advisors in South Vietnam by a factor of 18.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie: Y'know, I once knew a man who said to me: “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.” He also had a pair of sideburns that would cause even Jude Law’s face to weep in forfeit. You put those lemons in a sack and beat your enemies with ‘em! And maybe if you beat ‘em hard enough the bag will split open and lemon juice will spray into their eyes, causing intense burning pains as you crush them into a citrus-y pulp!

Steve: Wait, wait, wait, wait. Their heads or the lemons?

Eddie: Whatever caves first!

296 notes · View notes

uncanny-tranny · 4 months

Text

I've noticed an attitude that some parents have where their perceived right to own their children outweighs their duty as a parent. It seems like so much emphasis is placed on the parents ability to own raise a child that it completely clouds any other responsibility for that child. I see it all the time around my culture, where parenthood isn't a question of "if," but "when," because it is seen as ubiquitous to being an adult, and I wonder how many people start believing that because they were expected to be a parent even when they did not want parenthood, they should be rewarded for it.

These are just shots of thoughts, but I've found that this idea that parenthood is your right when you own a child can contribute to an environment of abuse, neglect, or mistreatment of the child/ren in one's care.

And, absolutely, the opportunity of even being a parent has been leveraged in cruel ways, and I think that's an important consideration because it is completely heinous. In my country alone, forced sterilization has been a political strategy for eugenics and to complete a political narrative about the worth of people's right to even live. When thinking about everything above, it reminded me of other ways that parenthood both reinforces violence, perpetuates violence, and threatens violence. This problem goes much deeper than I think many are ready for, and I wanted to acknowledge this due to how pervasive this "political strategy" was/is in many places. I don't think I myself am equipped to truly do this specific topic justice, but I felt it pertinent to this conversation, and something I don't always see even passively acknowledged.

#politics #youth liberation #forced sterilization tw #abuse #abuse tw #abuse mention tw #the first two paragraphs i wrote and then remembered exactly how deep this goes and i think multiple things are true at once #the pressure to be a parent has had drastically horroble results but also... parenthood has been forcibly revoked from people...#...in my country specifically the disabled/indigenous/Black communities and i am SURE i'm missing people. this is a small example...#...their right to autonomy and even the /chance/ to care for life was stolen away from them #parenthood becomes a tool and strategy not for parental sake but for violence

52 notes · View notes

ninja-knox-ur-sox-off · 1 month

Text

CHOKES ON WATER

I HAVEN'T POSTED A MONKIE KID FIC TO AO3 IN TWO YEARS????

#knox rambles #I AM SHOOKETH??????#GUIDE TO PHYSICAL CONTACT WAS IN JAN 2022 FAM #I AM SHOOKETH #OKAY I KNOW I LIKE WROTE SMALL THINGS #THERE WAS THAT PROMPT MONTH I STILL NEED TO FINISH #UH #GOSH WHAT THE HECK STILL?? I?? TWO YEARS????#DO PEOPLE EVEN REMEMBER ME?#HI I'M KNOX #I WAS THAT INSANE GUY WRITING A 44K CRACKSHIP AND MONKEY KING ANGST FOR NO REASON #JAMES I KNOW WHY YOU SAID THE KNOX U WRITE? THING NOW I DIDN'T REALIZENLGKM;SLDFASD

44 notes · View notes

peridots-pixiwolf · 9 months

Text

sketches from @mipexch 's whiteboard a couple days ago!!

also feat. a very small reference to @onlineviolence :]

#peridots-art #bugs #bots #ultrakill #gabriel ultrakill #swordsmachine ultrakill #bugzapper ultrakill #minos prime ultrakill #v2 ultrakill #plus the rest of the fumos but those weren't done by me. someone was drawing v1 so i put a v2 beside them and came back later to like 5 mor #hence why they are out of frame. anyway this was a LOT of fun I lost track of time and stayed up till dawn even #there were so many cool and/or recognized artists.... i keep checking the ultrakill tag to see if anyone else posts their own sketches #it was posted at like 2am my time though so i didn't get to stay very long.... i checked in today on the fumo drawings and there was #just so much new art over there and in general. so many people doodling and having fun and complimenting each other and bonding over #the things we all like. im gonna cry #anyway. i think this is the longest period of non-posting (not inactivity. lol) on tumblr i've ever had #so might've forgot some tags. also i think i'll use alt text for multiple images and regular id for 1-2 #edit also i wrote 'today' in the tags up there but it was in fact two days ago. regardless #ALSO. sorry if the alt text is hard to read or anything. never used it before + penchant for lengthy descriptions #can you tell i'm really proud of the beetle gabe btw. men will see a character say 'anyone gonna buggify that?' and not wait for an answer #WAIT i've already made that joke haven't i. whatever turn your blorbo into an insect or some sort of gay bug today

81 notes · View notes

cerise-on-top · 3 months

Note

I love your writing so much, you really captured who the Cod Men are 💜💜

Can I request Rudy with an S/O who likes to steal their clothing? Like I just know this man has soft hoodies and nice button-up shirts that we can use

Thank you 💜

Thank you, I try to write a mix of what I think the requester wants and how the CoD people would genuinely react to something! It's not always easy, but I try! And that's a really cute request! Rodolfo's been getting quite some love as of late, which is nice!

Rodolfo with a Clothes-Thief!Reader

When thinking about the relationship he has with you, Rodolfo thinks about many things: Spoonfeeding you some of his sorbet, cuddling under the blankets while drinking hot cocoa on a cold winter evening, kissing each other on the forehead during soft moments. He doesn’t really consider the bad things a relationship could bring all that often, being fairly romantic and wanting to live those soft and sweet moments with you, as well as remembering them in as much detail as he can. This changes when he notices you, who could usually do no wrong, waltzing around in your home wearing one of his hoodies. And I agree with you, his hoodies are very soft and warm since the fabric is important to him. He also makes sure they stay soft and comfortable since he always thought he’d be the only one wearing them. You opened his eyes, you are a thief.

When he sees you washing the dishes wearing one of his gray hoodies, he’ll simply stare at you for a moment, thinking about whether or not it’s real. He completely forgot that he, too, could be a victim of a relationship and lose his beloved clothing to his beloved criminal. If it’s a chilly morning, then he’ll simply walk up to you and hug you from behind. If he’s feeling especially mischievous, then he’ll put his hands under his article of clothing and onto your tummy so you can feel his cold hands. But that is unlikely to happen. Still! You need to be considerate of your partner as well! If you’re cold he is cold, put him in a blanket burrito!

While he knows exactly who this hoodie or sweater belongs to, he will ask you where you got it from, claiming that you’ve got a nice taste in fashion with a gentle smile. You can then either tell the truth or lie to him. The truth will earn you a chuckle and a kiss to your temple. Lie to him and he’ll interrogate you where you got it from. But eventually he will also ask you if you like his clothing that much. If you do, then you’re more than welcome to take it if he doesn’t need it that day. That extends to things that aren’t just sweaters or hoodies as well. Granted, he isn’t the most fashionable guy, but if he likes something enough he’ll usually buy it and look good in it as well. If you like his shirts as well, then sure, go for it. If it fits, then you can wear it. His clothing is, for the most part, fairly neutral. Lots of grays and lots of blues, so he prefers colder colors over warmer ones. There aren’t many motifs on his shirts, maybe some white palm leaves, but that’s about it.

If he sees you’ve really taken a liking to his clothing, then he’ll buy some more things he thinks you might enjoy, wear them every once in a while, and leave the rest up to you. He sort of does like seeing you in his clothing, in all honesty. You look snug and comfortable in it, plus it gives him the feeling that you do really really like him. When the two of you are roughly the same size, he’ll wear a sweater of yours as well from time to time, just to get some revenge and maybe feel as though you’re with him at that moment. It’s got your scent on it, and what else could be more precious in your absence? In fact, he’ll even give your big pink sweater a try if he really feels like it. You make him feel more comfortable in his skin, so he might even wear stuff like a hot pink and walk up to you so you can see him. If he looks ridiculous to you, he’ll be a bit nervous but laugh alongside you, if you compliment him and coo over how cute he looks, he’ll be a bit flustered and give you a shy smile. So yeah, if the both of you have been with each other for long enough and are comfortable enough, then the clothes stealing will go both ways, if possible.

Rodolfo might try to buy an extra oversized sweater so he can see if the both of you can fit underneath it. Yes, he hides that sweater for quite some time as he’s afraid you’ll laugh at him, but he really does want to try it some time. Maybe it’ll be fun. Maybe it’ll be pleasant. And if it’s neither of those things you have another oversized sweater to call your own. Sometimes you might even go clothes shopping together, just to see which parts of your wardrobe you can share together.

#cod #cod x reader #rodolfo parra #rodolfo parra x reader #I think I've gotten so many requests with Rudy that I feel more comfortable with him #not in writing sense but more in an established relationship sort of sense #not everything feels scary and new with him now which is why my view of him is slowly changing #like he's more willing to be touchy with reader now than he was when I started writing him since that “relationship” has been #going on for a while now. does that make sense? probably not but it feels nice #like the “relationship” is slowly progressing with him and he feels more comfortable with reader these days #I think it's sort of similar with Ghost since those two characters do share similarities when it comes to touch in my eyes #it's sort of sweet to watch actually reader and Rudy have grown closer and started loving each other even more these days #I remember when most of what I wrote could have been read as platonic as well. that's probably why they were hesitant on touch #but most if not all of what I write these days is romantic so touch isn't a big issue anymore #it just makes more sense. same thing with Valeria too I think #as a writer you sort of do build a relationship with the characters as well which is also very sweet in my eyes #the characters are friends. they're lovers. they're enemies. and anything inbetween #I never really noticed such a thing before but I thought about it today. did that happen with off too? I don't remember #so yeah. my HCs are slowly changing for the sweeter and I think that's cute! more domestic stuff which I'm a sucker for!

39 notes · View notes