#and it ran away from me

[anaxibiaclark]

"Son of Bitch!" Was the first thing Steve hears as he enters the Munson household. Inaudible spitting and sputtering follows as he closes the front door behind him.

"Hey, Munson!" Steve calls, as he makes his way down the hall towards Eddie's room.

He still found it shocking that Sam's people gave Wayne a two bedroom home outside of Hawkins as a "sorry your nephew almost got killed by other worldly creatures," in order to keep things on the down low from the public. They were also willing to pay for all of Eddie's medical expenses, which was a blessing, especially since Eddie had numerous surgeries to repair the damage that was done by the Demobats.

As Steve approaches Eddie's bedroom, he can finally make out the cacophony of words that are spilling from the other boy's mouth. Followed by a sharp intake of breath, along with a pained groan, then silence.

"Eddie?" Steve calls again, turning into the doorway. Slight panic catches in his lungs when he spots a trail of blood that leads into the attached bathroom. His strides become more elongated, avoiding the blood.

"You..." Steve stutters out a breath when he sees Eddie sitting on the edge of the tub holding a bloody hand to his left side. "Jesus, Eds. What happened?" Steve asks, crouching in front of Eddie.

"I think I popped a couple of stitches." Eddie says weakly. "I must have moved wrong and the bolster pulled away from the graft."

"Let me see."

Eddie sits up as he moves his hand away from his side.

"Wow," Steve gives a slight grimace. "That is a lot of blood."

"No shit Sherlock." Eddie grits out after another wave of pain hits.

Steve's eyebrows pinch together as he stands.

"Sorry man," Eddie expels a shaky breath. "I'm really exhausted and so fucking uncomfortable right now."

Steve shakes his head. "Don't apologize dude." He takes a look around the bathroom. "Do you have any washcloths lying around that you don't mind getting bloody?"

"Yeah," Eddie answers slowly. "In the linen closet down the hall, top shelf."

Steve squeezes Eddie's shoulder. "I'll grab a couple to get you cleaned up, just sit tight Munson."

"I'll be waiting with baited breath."

"Glad to hear your sarcasm is still intact." Steve sing songs, making his way back to the hall.

-

After a few minutes, Steve returns with washcloths and first aid kit in hand. He parks himself on the toilet seat, placing the first aid kit on the floor. "Will it cause too much pain if you scoot a little closer to me?" Steve asks, pivoting towards the sink to turn on the tap. He places the cloth under the flow of warm water, wringing out the excess.

Steve can hear the swish of sleep shorts, as Eddie slides along the tubs edge. "Woah," he turns just in time to catch Eddie by the arm, before he can topple over. "I got ya." He says, setting the damp cloth back in the sink.

"Thanks," Eddie croaks, doing his best to reposition himself.

"Here," Steve says, placing Eddie's hand on his shoulder. "Hold onto me for balance. Grab my shirt if you have to."

"Don't blame me if your shirt gets ruined."

"A stretched collar is the least of my worries." Steve responds, feeling his collar get a little tighter at the back of his neck. "Uh, so, I'm gonna need you to lift your arm so I can remove the bandage."

"You sure you know what you're doing?" Eddie asks skeptically.

"I watched the nurse change your bandages plenty of times. I think I can handle it." Steve says with confidence.

He studies Eddie's left side, watching as blood slowly soaks into the waistband of his shorts. "Except..."

"Except. What. Harrington?" Annoyance can be heard in Eddie's voice.

"Except, you were comatose the entire time."

Eddie groans. "Do what you gotta do, man. I don't want to go back to the hospital. I'm so done with that place."

"Well, your bandage has soaked through, maybe the removal won't be too bad."

"Just do it." Eddie grits out.

Steve gets an easy grip on the bandage and pulls. He feels Eddie embedding his nails into his shoulder, even after the bandage comes away without snagging skin.

Eddie expels a shuddering breath.

"You doing okay?" Steve asks, discarding the soiled bandage. He then reaches for the dry cloth draped across his thigh.

He watches color return to Eddie's face as he nods. "Didn't hurt like I thought it would."

Steve hummes in response, then presses the cloth firmly to Eddie's bolster applying pressure to stop the bleeding. He can feel Eddie suck in a breath of air.

"Son of a bitch!" Is spat out shakily, then Eddie adds. "Warn a guy before you do something like that.

"Sorry," Steve says sheepishly. "I wanted to stanch the bleeding before it got worse."

"Just," Eddie takes another slow breath. "Be careful will ya."

Silence fills the room for a brief moment. Steve still applying gentle pressure to Eddie's side.

"You know, I've been thinking." Steve says quietly.

"Uh oh," Eddie responds, a small smile gracing his face. "That's not a good sign."

"Shut up, Asshole."

Eddie snickers, then cringes when his laughter causes pain to shoot down his side. "Don't make me laugh, man."

"Then stop being an Asshole."

"But it's so much fun to poke the bear."

"You're just as bad as Henderson." Steve responds with a shake of his head.

"Then, don't make is so easy." Steve can hear the smile in Eddie's voice.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

Companionable silence falls between them again. Steve continuing firm pressure on Eddie's side, which will be for another eight minutes he realizes as he looks down at his watch.

"So?" Eddie breaks the delicate silence between them. "What were you thinking about?"

"Oh!" Steve perks up a bit. "A tattoo idea for you," he shrugs. "When all of this heals."

"A tattoo, huh?" Eddie responds voice a little shaky, resting his head on Steve's opposite shoulder.

"Yeah," Steve smiles, looking down at the shaggy crop of hair. "You'll probably think it's cheesy as hell and it definitely wouldn't fit the existing theme, but..."

"You gonna keep me waiting, big boy?" Eddie asks, a slight muffle to his voice. "Or..."

Steve interrupts Eddie before he can continue. "There's this mythological bird that Dustin keeps talking about. The bird's feathers are like fire and it's practically immortal." He notices a slight change in Eddie's breathing, as if it's matching his own rapid heartbeat.

He pauses for a moment, looking at the back of Eddie's head again. "Hey?" He asks quietly. "You okay?"

Eddie nods, his forehead digging into Steve's shoulder. "I'm good, Harrington. You can continue with your description of this bird."

A smile spreads across Steve's face, happy to hear Eddie's still interested. "So, from what I understand, when this bird reaches the end of its life, I guess it bursts into flames and from its own ashes its reborn." Steve pauses for a brief moment. "I think that's how Henderson explained it."

Eddie's quiet, breathing becoming more normal. "Why do you think a Phoenix would be a good fit?" He asks, turning his face towards Steve.

Steve shrugs, feeling Eddie's breath tickling his neck. "You've literally been through hell and back, dude.

Being accused of murder because some Asshole was pissed that a child got the best of him years ago and getting sucked into the bullshit that is the Upside Down." He expels a humorless laugh. "You were dead when we found Dustin cradling your body. I don't know how we managed it, but we got your heart going again and somehow I got your ass through that fucking gate." Steve is on a role now and doesn't stop. "Must have been adrenaline because I carried you to the Winnebago from your trailer and then into the hospital when we arrived."

Steve takes a deep breath. "It took fucking Hopper, coming back from the dead, to clear your damn name and even then you were literally trapped in your own fucking head for weeks. Thank God Eleven got her powers back, who knows what would've happened if Vecna got his claws into you."

Steve shrugs again, watching Eddie's head lift with the motion. "I don't know, man." He continues. "We've all been through some shit, but you and Max have taken the brunt of it this time around."

Eddie still has his head resting on Steve's shoulder. He watches as the other boy's back rises and falls with every breath. "You came back from something that would have broken me." Steve admits, breaking the silence this time. "If that doesn't scream rising from the ashes, then I don't know what does."

Steve watches as Eddie lifts his head, their eyes meet, almost like Eddie is trying to find the lie hidden within. No lie can be found, Steve is certain of that. He's had that damn bird crowding his head for weeks now, ever since Dustin first started spouting facts about it. A Phoenix would be the perfect fit to cover his friend's battle scars.

All thought vanishes from his mind when he feels chapped lips press against his. He makes a surprised sound that lodges in the back of his throat.

Eddie pauses at the sound and slowly pulls away. Panic washes over his face. "Shit, Steve." He says, slightly breathless. "I'm so sorry, man. I..."

Steve grabs Eddie by the nape of the neck and crashes their lips together, deepening the kiss. A pained whimper comes from Eddie as he realizes that he still has firm pressure placed against the bolster attached to Eddie's side.

They both pull away from the kiss at the same time. Steve looks down, relieved to find that fresh blood isn't seeping from the cloth pressed against Eddie's skin.

"Sorry," Steve sighs. "I wasn't thinking straight."

Eddie snorts out a laugh and cringes. "What did I just say, Harrington?"

Steve chuckles, "not what I was aiming for, but-"

A smile spreads across Eddie's face. He leans forward to brush a kiss over soft lips, then rests his forehead against Steve's.

"What now?"

"Well," Eddie draws out the word. "How about you get me patched up first, and then we can talk about what comes next."

"Right," Steve says sheepishly. "Let's get you cleaned up." He presses a kiss to Eddie's forehead before sitting upright again. "Your not bleeding anymore so that's a good sign. I'm gonna go grab a fresh washcloth."

Steve helps Eddie regain his balance on the edge of the tub before standing. He looks around the bathroom frantically trying to remember where he grabbed the washcloths from before.

"Linen closet, top shelf, hallway." Eddie supplies, knowing exactly what Steve was looking for.

"Right," Steve says slightly flustered. "I'll be right back."

Before he heads out the bathroom, Steve plants another kiss to Eddie's forehead.

#tw blood #tw mentions of blood #this has been stuck in my hand #and in my drafts for weeks now #sorry for how long of a hc this turned out to be #i had an idea #and it ran away from me #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie headcanon #after the piggyback #not sure if i did these boys justice #but #i gave them their first kiss #steddie ficlet #which probably should have been on ao3

[crunchchute]

My Sam & Max cosplay I debuted at a local con during the weekend!

#wasnt wearing leg padding in these so sorry sams a bit skinny #sam and max #cosplay #crunchchute art #my art #i could remake the pants and jacket entirely but that would be quite hard actually. i suck at making jackets especially #so those are just thrifted and edited #lots of color differences that bug me but. oh well #pants and jacket arent that different but its noticeable in these pics #as well as maxs hands and feet. theyre slightly lighter as the fabric i used is better quality #but i ran out of the stuff i used on his body etc and i couldnt buy more from that store as they took their sweet time shipping the stuff #oh well. didnt make them for a competition so its okay #im my own biggest hater and my own biggest critic #at the end of the day i made a handful of people really happy and thats all that matters to me #gotta share them every chance i get as i usually just make a cos #wear it to the con and then put it on the shelf #but im too happy with these to just hide them away after #they need a good scrub and after that id like to bring them to another con. next main goal is viecc but thats just a maybe right now

[yuanology]

m!reader fingering afab!geto while being 100% aware gojo's watching through the crack of the door so he decides to show gojo how sensitive his friend is and geto ends up squirting?? (lowkey embarrassed i wrote this, but yknow ignore it if you want😅)

what the Fuck .

gojo satoru was not a virtuous man. far from it, in fact. as a self-made god, satoru existed on a plane far above morality and whatever other human concept was created to define right and wrong. within infinity and the insurmountable power residing in it, there was only the man who wielded it and the humanity confining it.

even so, satoru still knew deep within his heart—the trembling, still beating thing residing underneath the constricts of his ribs—that he should not be doing this; that he should not be staying.

but satoru was not a virtuous man, and so he stayed.

because there, past the thin crack of the door, was his best friend—the same one he had known from childhood, the same one who had walked with him through the ins and outs of darkness—with his clothes stripped clean, thrown messily around the room, both of his feet planted flat on the bed, and his back arching off the mattress in a pleasured arch. between his legs, slick and heavy with evidence of his own debauchery, stood you—fully dressed, only the first two buttons of your collar open.

satoru knew of you. it was impossible not to. you were older than the both of them. when they were freshly entering their first year, you'd already matured where you existed in your third one. satoru himself had barely spared you a glance but in retrospect, he did remember suguru mentioning once or twice that he was training with you on the side.

fuck, satoru thought, dazed. if he had known this was what 'training' involved, he would have listened a bit better on what suguru had to say about you.

because you were holding his thighs apart, well-practiced fingers relentlessly pushing past suguru's slick folds, producing the loudest squelching noises. satoru couldn't see very well from this angle, but he could hear the sounds his best friend was making; fucked up and high-pitched, whiney in a way satoru had never heard him speak before.

suguru cried out your name, breathless and panting. "please," he was begging you, sounding close to tears. "please, no more."

you leaned in, mouth brushing over suguru's chest as you whispered your response. satoru couldn't hear you, even as his ears strained to catch a wisp of your words. but whatever it was, it must not be good because suguru is letting out a loud whine, one the turned into the strangled beginnings of a scream when satoru noticed that you had begun to pick up pace.

oh my god.

just as satoru took the first hesitant half step backwards, swaying in place, he hears your drawled out voice—cutting, brave, unyielding.

"now, where do you think you're going, satoru?"

satoru stiffened, and he realised that he wasn't the only one. suguru did, too—his body locking up as a new flush crawled across his skin. satoru had half the mind to apologise to his best friend in his head, a chant of i'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msuchashittyfriend looping in his head as if it could forgive him for not only being a pervert, but also for intruding on his best friend's secret.

satoru cleared his throat. he wanted to make an excuse, to apologise, but all that could tumble out of his throat was a hoarse, "um."

suguru let out a high whine at the sound of satoru's voice, as if he was spurred on by his audience. his back arched, his mouth parting as a deep sound escaped him. satoru watched, mesmerised, as the muscle on suguru's body rippled at the motion, your hands never once faltering in its ministrations.

"come here for a minute, satoru." your voice was calm, collected and almost clinical. as if you didn't practically have your entire fist buried in between suguru's slick folds, your thumb nudging at where satoru guessed must be suguru's clit if suguru's high pitched whimpers were anything to go by. "i need your opinion on something."

satoru swallowed thickly as he was drawn into the room, his motions dumb as if he was a mere puppet on your string. as he moved closer, he realised that there was more to the scene that he couldn't earlier see from his post by the door.

suguru's cunt was fucking drooling, slick dripping all over the place as his hips canted in the air as if to escape and to move closer to the pleasure. his hole would no doubt he gaping if you pulled your hand out, hungry for more. your thumb covered his clit wholly, rubbing at it mercilessly.

satoru felt himself twitching in his pants, throat working around the words stuck in his lungs.

"what do you need?" satoru asked, his voice wrecked. he would be embarrassed by it if it wasn't promptly drowned out by the sound of suguru's choked out noises.

without thinking, satoru moved a hand to rest on suguru's thigh, at the sight of his best friend in distress. he didn't realise what a great mistake it was until suguru did a full body shudder, a ragged gasp leaving him. satoru couldn't fucking breathe.

clearly, you didn't share the same sentiment because you were speaking again. "suguru wants me to stop, but i personally think he can come one more time," you said casually, as if this was a common conversation to have with just about anyone.

suguru let out a weak whimper, pathetic and desperate in a way satoru never knew him to be, at the sound of your words. you must have been trying to convince him about this for a while then.

stiffly, satoru nodded, not quite knowing how to react. "okay," he said dumbly.

he wasn't looking at you, too entranced by the sight of suguru with his legs spread wide open and his messy cunt being on full display, but he could hear the smile in your voice when you said, "well, what do you think? can he come one more time?"

satoru opened his mouth, a half-baked answer on the tip of his tongue, when he was interrupted by the sound of suguru's babbling.

"no. no, please. no more." there were tears in his eyes, dripping down his cheeks prettily, satoru noticed. suguru looked a mess, his hair a halo around his head and his hips lifted in the air as if he was nothing more than a cheap whore. satoru thought he was beautiful. "please. i can't. don't make me. please, please, please, pl—"

his words promptly turned into a loud scream, half-pained and half-pleasured, and satoru's head whipped around to look at the source of it. he swallowed thickly when his eyes dropped from suguru's face to his engorged clit, where your thumb was no longer rubbing at but rather, your earlier free hand was now gently tugging at the hood over it.

holy shit, satoru thought, his head spinning. because he just watched you pinch suguru's clit. you pinched suguru's clit. judging from the nonchalance of your gesture and the way suguru didn't try to fight back, instead canting his hips higher, this was something that you did often.

satoru was going to die. holy shit.

"shh, suguru," you reprimanded, silencing suguru's desperate sobs with a gentle pat to his thigh. suguru sniffled, but he stopped letting out those depressing sounds. "it's not you i'm talking to."

suddenly reminded that he owed you the debt of an answer, he blurted out an answer before he could think twice. "he can," satoru replied. "he's an overachiever, the dumbass. he can come another time."

suguru let out a loud sob at his answer, one that sounded a lot like betrayal.

satoru couldn't properly apologise to him, though, because your lips were curling into a sharp grin, looking like a cat who caught the canary, and satoru couldn't help but think that maybe, he was just in as big of a trouble as suguru was. maybe, with his answer, satoru had condemned not just his best friend, but himself as well.

you pulled your hand out of suguru with a lewd squelch, one that made satoru flush all the way to the roots of his hair—and oh god, he hadn't even realised he could burn up even more—and the way that suguru whimpered, both devastated and relieved by the loss, wasn't helping.

you took a step backwards, letting suguru's body drop onto the mattress. you gestured towards the now empty space between suguru's thighs. "on your knees, satoru. hands behind your back."

satoru couldn't do anything but comply. he dropped to his knees, his hands behind his back and his eyes now at level with suguru's fucked out cunt. holy shit. suguru was twitching, his pretty clit engorged and swollen from the earlier abuse and fucking pierced apparently. satoru exhaled sharply at the sight, his breath fanning across suguru's folds, and earning himself a short, aborted whine from suguru. oh my god.

satoru almost flinched when he felt your hand card through his hair, tangling your fingers into the strands as he guided your face closer to suguru's gushing pussy. "go on," you ordered him, your voice gentled by the sound of melodious laughter. "eat him."

thank you for the meal, satoru thought dazedly as his face was guided closer and closer, until he was buried in suguru's cunt and lapping up the taste of his best friend.

the response was immediate—suguru's thighs started quivering on either side of satoru's head, moving to rest on satoru's shoulders and pulling him in as if to suffocate him. satoru didn't mind, taking that as an unspoken order to start eating his best friend out like his life depended on it.

he didn't bother with hesitating or testing the waters. he licked a broad strip up the length of suguru's cunt, dipping in between his folds to gather the slick there at the centre of his tongue. satoru moaned at the taste, and he was immediately greeted by the feeling of suguru's walls squeezing around him as suguru met him with his own weak whimper.

"suguru's already sensitive." that was you again. there was notable amusement in your voice. "want me to help you make him come faster?"

satoru should say no. he wanted to stay buried in suguru's cunt forever, eating his best friend out until he was shaking all over the place. he wanted to make his best friend feel so good that he stopped being satoru's suguru and instead started becoming your suguru with satoru instead.

but he could hear his best friend's pleas even above the sound of his pounding heartbeat, the sound of suguru's suffering, and he couldn't let this keep going for much longer.

he nodded, the bridge of his nose bumping over suguru's clit in the process. suguru's thighs squeezed around him, a whimper escaping, and satoru quickly drew circles on suguru's hips in apology.

you, on the other hand, didn't seem to have the same courtesy as you told him, "suck on his clit, then open your jaw wide."

satoru obeyed even though he didn't really understand why you were telling him to do that, knowing that you likely understood suguru's body more than he did in this matter.

he pursed his lips around suguru's clit, sucking on it firmly, before he let his jaw drop open.

oh.

oh, holy fuck.

because suguru was squirting directly into his mouth, making a mess out of the lower side of his face, and satoru could only kneel there, his mouth wide open as he swallowed all of his best friend's slick juices. his head was light, and he couldn't breathe—both from the suffocation and the fact that geto suguru, his best friend, his one and only, just fucking squirted into his mouth.

when suguru finally let him free, thighs unlocking from around his head and limply falling onto the edge of the bed. satoru leaned back, unable to process what just happened, when he heard you speak again.

"don't forget your manners, suguru."

it was quiet for a moment, then he heard the small, almost shy, voice of his best friend. "thank you, satoru," suguru mumbled.

"you're welcome," satoru replied, his voice sounding fucked over. he couldn't correct himself just yet, though, his head still reeling.

he was still on his knees as he watched you rearrange suguru on the bed, peppering soft kisses onto his face and his collarbone and his chest in stark contrast to the way you had treated him earlier. there was the lull of soft conversation passing between the both of you, one that satoru didn't try being a voyeur of.

he was content with just kneeling there, his head filled with cotton and static. he didn't even bother with touching himself, still too entranced by the feeling of this all happening.

finally, your footsteps drew close to him. he tilted his head as he watched you approach him. you cupped his chin, tilting his head back to meet your gaze.

"messy," you noted, but the corners of your mouth were quirked into a smile. "but suguru's always been messy." satoru didn't have any response to that, so he simply nodded stupidly. somehow, that must be the right answer because you laughed.

you took a step back, taking a seat onto the edge of the bed. satoru's eyes tracked your movement almost curiously. he frowned when you patted your lap, as if you were expecting something from him.

"over my knee," you said. "i think fifteen should do. usually, i'd give more, but i'm assuming you're new to the scene, hm? don't forget to count."

satoru blinked dumbly. he stayed rooted on his knees. "what?" he asked hoarsely.

you raised a brow at him. "oh, satoru," you said, your voice placating. "did you really think that i was going to let you go unpunished just like that? over my knee. fifteen spanks and i want you to count."

when he still did nothing, your gaze darkened and your voice grew firm. "now, satoru."

oh, satoru thought smartly.

swallowing thickly, he moved to comply.

#once again . this ran away from me #idk if this was what you wanted anon but the idea of satoru eating suguru out literally invaded my brain i'm sorry #literally insane holy shitttt #sub jjk #sub geto suguru #sub gojo satoru #dom reader #top reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader x gojo satoru #( asks. ) #( thirsts. )

[bibxrbie]

"Luke Skywalker isn’t like the old Jedi. He saves Vader with his attachments!”

Wrong!

Luke Skywalker, at the end of Return of the Jedi, after his confrontation with the Emperor drags Darth Vader through the destructing Death Star. He’s desperate, knuckles white under the heavy weight of his father’s body, a little boy dragging his dad to safety. He sets Vader down for a moment, to catch his breath or maybe to get a better grip. He goes to grab Vader again, but Vader, uncomfortable and in pain, asks Luke to take off the mask. He wants to see Luke through his eyes instead of the eyes Palpatine built for him. Luke refuses, says that removing the mask is a sure way for Vader to die. Luke doesn’t want Vader dead, he wants Vader alive. Not to hold him accountable for his many evil acts, but for the same reason why Luke Skywalker can’t kill Darth Vader; Vader is his father and Luke loves him.

And yet, after a moment, Luke removes Vader’s mask. He doesn’t want to, he hesitates, but he removes the mask with enough slowness to allow Vader to take it back. In that moment, Luke sets aside his desire for Vader in his life, sets aside his desire to see him live, and sets aside his entire mission, the reason he was even on the Death Star in the place. In his compassion for his father, Luke stays with Vader until he dies. It is this moment where we see him be the best damn Jedi he can be. I’d even argue that this moment is the greatest example of non-attached love we see. Because Luke lets Vader go! He lets his father die, and in some ways, by removing the mask, he too kills Vader, he stays with him until his last moment, gives him the kindness of granting his last wish and finally chooses Vader.

And Luke doesn’t have to do this. If Luke Skywalker’s love for his father was an attachment, he would ignore Vader and continue dragging him to the escape pod, put his desire for a father as his central focus and ignore Vader’s wants and discomfort. Maybe he would even save him. But he doesn’t. Instead, he watches as Vader dies.

He builds a Jedi burial for his father and watches it burn the remnants of Vader and Anakin Skywalker away. He mourns Vader, he mourns what they could’ve had as father and son, considers what ifs and maybe-if-I-did-this. Vader/ Anakin is released from his mortal body, from his ‘crude matter’ and Luke lets him go. He says one final goodbye to Anakin. Then, he joins Leia, Han, Chewie, Lando, and the rest of the Rebels and celebrates their victory. He lives in the present and celebrates what he has instead of what he lost.

Luke Skywalker is THE Jedi. Everything about Luke Skywalker serves as the foundational cornerstone of the Jedi, everything about the Jedi as a culture and philosophy is reflected in his character. Luke’s desire for the New Jedi Order isn’t to throw away the values of the old Order, but to vitalise them, breathe life back into dying lungs, and rebuild a path that people set out on their way to destroy. (Yes, his Order is different from the Old, but that’s because it has to be. He doesn’t have the resources or the safety of the Old Order.) The philosophies of the Jedi are difficult and they aren’t for everyone, and like the perfect Jedi that Luke is, he struggles and stumbles and sometimes he even rejects it. But, no matter how far he falls, it is a way of life he chooses again and again and again. It is a way of life that welcomes him back each time

#luke skywalker #star wars #pro jedi #jedi positive #luke skywalker meta #luke skywalker loves being a jedi and i'm so tired of people pretending he doesn't #I hate you 'time-travel fics where Luke judges the Order for how they've handled things' #Luke would be the people's padawan actually chasing everyone down to acquire every bit of knowledge that they have #star wars meta #jedi order #the jedi #anakin skywalker #darth vader #the original trilogy #a new hope #empire strikes back #return of the jedi #if I tell you that luke outgrows anakin/vader? if I tell you that Vader is just the start of his Jedi growth and the end of it? then what? #Iong post #it kind of ran away from me

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

No time to play. You are being sent away.

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#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #yu ziyuan #jiang yanli #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #Do you know how hard it was to *not* do a 'Sold To One Direction' spoof comic? It took nearly all my will power. #Mostly because it misaligns a little too far off from the canon events and vibes. #But sit with me for a moment. Consider it: #“BEEP BEEP BEEP. I threw my pillow at my alarm clock. ”Wei Wuxian get your lazy ass downstairs!“ Yu Ziyuan yelled. #I ran to the bathroom and looked in the mirror to see my grey orbs staring back at me. #I put my long straight black hair in a ponytail with a red ribbon. #I went downstairs to see my adoptive mother holding a bottle of vodka and a cigarette. #'Listen up whore! I need money to pay the bills so I sold you. Your new owners will be here any minute so go pack!' #I stormed upstairs. There was no way I was going to let her sell me to a creepy old man! #I decided to run away. Since I'm not like other girls I don't have very many friends. #My gay friend Lan Zhan was mean but he lived like a block away. #As I opened the door I saw Wen Chao blocking the door. 'Ello Love. We're your new owners!' #I rolled my eyes and pushed him. 'Aren't you from that stupid Wen Sect? There's no way in hell I'm going with you!' #Hey again. It's me the OP of this blog taking a pause. I haven't actually read this story before aside from the memes #and I am honestly reeling from how this watpad fic chapter ends. What do you mean one of the one direction boys chloroforms her??? #Chapter 2 is so much worse #Why is there such a strong focus on the *eyes* of every boy!!! #This fanfic is a horror story actually. I came into it trying to make a funny parody but I got in over my head. Dear God. #It's me again. Several minutes have passed and I'm on chapter 4. What the FUCK is going on here? #I feel like I opened up pandora's box hoping for a fun little treat and got the plauge upon me. Dont read this fic.

[scoops-stevie-archive]

@steddieas-shegoes :)

the media and fans have a field day with it. steve and eddie have been public for years yet there's pictures all over twitter of steve cozied up in a booth in the corner of whatever bar, tucked tight into gareth's side under his arm with eddie nowhere in sight. a different fan posts a tiktok of them from a different angle and a little closer and you can clearly see that steve is drunk. his eyes shine unfocused in the camera flash and his cheeks are flushed. in the video he laughs loudly at something and just before one of cc's security guards blocks the view, steve leans in and buries his face in gareth's neck and gareth's fingers go to his hair.

the cheating allegations come out after that. article after article with the photo on the front page but it's nothing but radio silence from the band's twitter. no statement from eddie or gareth. fans think they're hashing it out behind the scenes and are preparing themselves for gareth's exit statement from the band or for the news to hit of steve and eddie breaking up.

none of that happens.

gareth stays in the band, steve and eddie go on like normal. they're papped in a starbucks in new york looking just as much in love as they were before the scandal. eddie and gareth don't behave any different in the videos they post of each other or on stage.

it kind of dies down after that- until a video goes up on the band's youtube one afternoon, shot that morning.

they try to keep themselves as authentic as they can, show the fans that not everything is sunshine and rainbows in the industry, and that they're real people who do real people things, too.

in the video, someone knocks on a hotel door and jeff answers. he says something that's purposefully scripted very badly and it gets a laugh out of the guys. the video shows them walking into jeff's room and it's revealed that it's a room tour. they pan around the corner into the main room and there's a lump in the bed.

there's no awkward silence between them, just a laugh from freak and a "jeeeff, it's almost ten a.m." and then eddie's pulling back the covers to reveal a slumbering steve.

people watching expect the footage to cut off abruptly or for eddie to angrily demand the situation, but again, it doesn't happen. he just laughs and squats down on the side of the bed and runs his hand through steve's hair until he wakes up.

"hey, sweetheart," he says, his voice dripping with fondness as he smiles a syrupy smile that hundreds of fans have dreampt of being on the receiving end of. "have a good sleep?"

they see steve reach out and pull eddie in by the head for a kiss. the video goes back to its scheduled programing after that, eddie following steve into the bathroom to get ready.

they don't do many interviews in the span of all this happening so fans and the media are left wondering what in the world is going on between the five of them. the boys act the same on stage every night without any signs of jealousy between them.

and then steve is photographed wearing a hoodie that fans can clearly see belongs to freak just from the size alone. neither steve or freak are small guys, but the garment is like a dress on steve. it almost goes down to his knees and the arms hang at least three inches passed his hands. it threatens to hang off of one shoulder but goddamn does steve look cozy and comfortable, burrowing into the hood pulled over his head like a little hamster.

the hoodie isn't what gets their attention, though.

it's the fact that the picture is from the band's soundcheck, to the band's twitter, and that steve is sitting on gareth's lap at his drum kit, while wearing the hoodie, and while eddie is leaning down and kissing him. gareth doesn't look put off by it. he's looking somewhere off camera and laughing but his hand is still on steve's waist and steve's is tangled in eddie's wild hair.

it answers all and none of everyone's questions.

#cj talks #this sort of ran away from me lmao #steddie #corroded coffin

[papanowo]

honestly getting to see spock go crazy go stupid saves this whole movie for me

#my art #star trek #star trek aos #spock #leonard mccoy #bones mccoy #this one ran away from me a bit ngl #this post brought to you by turbo killer by carpenter brut

[warlenys]

we talk about wilson being awful and evil deep down and he is but importantly that doesn’t erase the sincerity of his kindness. he is truly kind. he needed to help that old woman in post mortem because he does care about people. what makes him interesting is that he doesn’t want to. he gets mad at himself for being kind and nice and selfless and enabling. he wants to be selfish and mean. he would be happier that way. meanwhile house hates himself for being selfish and mean. house wants to be kind. house would be happier if he was wilson and wilson would be happier if he was house. and both of them are only able to be those versions of themselves when they’re together. they not only want to be with each other, they want to be each other. but the fucking tragedy of it is that they actually need to be the versions of themselves that they don’t like to be together. because if wilson was mean he would’ve dumped house ages ago and if house was kind wilson wouldn’t find him interesting. house loves that wilson is secretly evil but needs him to be kind, and wilson loves that house is secretly kind but needs him to be evil. they can’t change. they have to suffer themselves to enjoy each other. they’re plagued with an inability to be who they want to be in anyone’s arms but each other’s, but they both have to be who they don’t want to be to be in each other’s arms. the immutable tragedy of the hilson paradox

#rip schrödinger you would’ve loved house md #this started as just a wilson post but it ran away from me #i cannot stop thinking about them #1 thought about hilson leads to an essay lmao #every time #sick of them #house md #hilson #+

[samwwise]

crowley & aziraphale + unreal unearth lyrics

#goodomensedit #goodomensgifs #good omens #hozier #aziraphale #crowley #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #unreal unearth #david tennant #michael sheen #WHAT IF I THREW UP!! #this gifset completely ran away from me. it looks nothing like what it was supposed to. anywhoozle #myedits #gif

[raiiny-bay]

summer '93

#ts4 #simblr #ts4 edit #ts4 render #sims 4 #myedits #AUverse #kelly #dhestyn #something came over me when i made these man #i don't know #AUverse is the new tag for all of my miniAUs btw. so it encompasses multiple AUs #this one is what i'm currently calling the 90sAU (ideally it will have a real name eventually. it just. doesn't yet) #uh i have a confession which is that i haven't actually written anything for this particular AU yet #like. not even bullet points or anything #but i am completely obsessed with it #something about the boys traveling around in their lil van is just so fun to me #i love the idea of kel just being some punk ass kid who ran away from home #& dhes sees him on the side of the road one day & is like. oh. yea. that one's cute. sure. i'll pick him up. #& they literally just travel the states together #like originally dhes was only gonna drive him to this one concert in a nearby city but #since they had a few days to spare dhes convinced kel to let him take him on a small detour & go sight seeing #& they ended up having a lot of fun!!! #i haven't decided for sure yet but i think they're like... 19 or 20 in this AU #i'll figure out the details once i actually start writing it though

[alfairy]

Nimona AU where Ballister and Nimona do leave the kingdom and go over the wall to find a new safe home. Years pass. The kingdom is more paranoid than ever because the queen killer and the monster were never caught and could presumably still live among them or return to cause more chaos.

The director decides one day that they need to take the fight to the monsters, strike first before they are stricken again. Knights are sent out beyond the wall to search the surrounding land and burn down the woods in order to “smoke the monsters out.” Destroying everything, trying to fight a monster that was never even there.

During one of these instances, Ambrosius and Ballister finally see each other again face to face for the first time in years since that fateful interaction at the institution. They’ve both changed, physically at least; Ambrosius’ hair is longer, Bal’s got some more grey streaks and a new arm upgrade. But underneath all of that they’re still the same, still got that lingering hurt and romantic feelings. Nimona is still the same as ever and hasn’t aged a day.

(Also idea that maybe there’s other small communities and people living outside the wall that Bal and Nimona ended up quietly settling down in. People who are far more open minded and accepting of others, and who are more concerned about the walled off kingdom with guns pointing at them than this nice guy and his cool daughter. That’s their neighbor and they’re not gonna let some knights storm in and cause trouble for him.)

#nimona #this au is an excuse for many things: ambrosius with long hair. dad balister and nimona out living their lives in peace in the woods. #you ran away from your past but uh oh your past caught up with you and is uprooting your new life #meeting your ex again after many years with things left unsaid and unfinished and you yearn to reconnect but don’t know how #just had this au rotating in my brain don’t mind me #I just had to throw all this somewhere *throws this at you and runs*

[ruporas]

lonely

[ID: A limited palette of green and pink, Vashwood comic. The first page serves as a prologue. The first panel shows Vash speaking to someone off screen while Wolfwood is lingering behind him. A black arrow is drawn pointing at him. In the second panel, Vash is buying donuts in the distance while Wolfwood is once again in view, lingering. and the black arrow is drawn pointing at him. In the third panel, Vash is leaving a cubicle and turning towards his right with a slightly peeved expression. He sees Wolfwood, leaning against the cubicle, waiting for him, and with the black arrow drawn, pointing at him, implicating the consistent hovering of Wolfwood’s presence during Vash’s everyday. At the bottom of the page, they’re drawn out of panel with Vash turning to Wolfwood and saying with an irritated expression, “You’re really following me everywhere, huh?” Wolfwood responds, “What, you got a problem?” Vash responds without hesitation, “Yeah, kinda...”

The second page starts with a new day. In the first panel, Vash is seen alone, weighing apples in his hands at a mart, with crowds passing behind him. In the second panel, he turns to his right and starts to say, “Hey, Wolfwood...” In the third panel, he’s startled from seeing a stranger, whom he’d accidentally called out to when he was expecting to see Wolfwood. He says, “Oh, you’re not him. Sorry!” In the fourth panel, the stranger walks off and Vash muses, “Right, he said he had something to do today...”

The third page begins with a close up of Vash's miffed expression, the continuation of Vash's thoughts, "Now that he's not here, this is just like how I used to be, but... It feels lonely somehow. Oh well, I'll see him again tonight, like always." In the second panel, it shows Vash walking through the marketplace crowd, alone. In the third panel, the door panel is a close up of the door opening with a peek of Vash's head. He says, "Wolfwood!" In the fourth panel, Vash is holding a bag of food with a bright smile and says, "Are you hungry? I got you something to eat today!"

The fourth page begins with a shot of the room, two beds being highlighted, one of them being made properly with the blanket draped over the bed and the other with the blanket folded and pillow sitting on top of it. There's no sign of Wolfwood. The second panel shows Vash with a disappointed look as he thinks, "He's still not here?" The third panel shows Vash putting the bag of food on the table. Stapled to the paper bag is the receipt with a written note "For Wolfwood." Vash's thoughts continue "He does like to stay out so, I guess there's no reason to worry..." The fourth panel shows Vash sitting his bed somberly with his thoughts continued, "It's not any of my business anyway..."

The fifth page starts with a close up his blank expression as he looks downwards, thinking, "Even if he left completely... That'd be understandable and better for him. I'll just travel alone again... like before... Huh?" The next panel shows Vash's composure break, tears welling up in his eyes suddenly, as he didn't expect to cry. He starts to sob, putting his hands to his face to quiet himself and wipe at his tears, as he says, "Ugh... Dammit... I miss h..." The last panel shows Vash leaning over into his hands, still crying, and in the back, the door swings wide open with a bam as Wolfwood walks through with the punisher swung behind him. He shouts, "SPIKEY! You in here?!"

The sixth page starts with Wolfwood confused, looking at Vash and Vash looks back, just as confused, with tears in his eyes and snot out of his nose. Wolfwood starts saying, "Ah? You..." No longer in panels, at the bottom of the page, Wolfwood takes the Punisher off of himself and starts to walk towards Vash, continuing with slight concern, "What's wrong with you? Did something happen?" Vash, hurriedly begins to wipe at his tears, denying immediately, "No! No, I'm fine! Nothing happened!"

The seventh page, Vash points towards the table, with a hand still wiping at his tears and he smiles as he says, "I uh got you food. On the table." Wolfwood looks towards to the table and responds, "Oh. I was getting hungry, thanks." He turns his head back to Vash immediately after with an uncertain expression, knowing the other wasn't responding to his concern, and says, "But, I know you're an idiot with this stuff, so I'm reminding you again. Don't brush it off if it's an issue, alright?"

The eight page, Vash's tears have dried and he looks to Wolfwood with a soft smile and responds, "Yeah. It's okay though..." A panel at the center shows a side view of Vash approaching Wolfwood. At the bottom of the page, with no panel, is a close up shot of Vash's hand, holding onto the edge of Wolfwood's jacket sleeve, as he says, "Because you're here now. Wolfwood."

The final page is a back shot of both of them standing next to each other, Wolfwood's head tilted slightly to the left, not fully believing Vash as he says, "That doesn't answer anything, Spikey." Vash responds, "There's no need to talk about it! You should enjoy your food. Let's have a drink too?" Wolfwood responds, "Tsk, tsk. Fine, yeah. I could use one." END ID]

#vashwood #vash the stampede #nicholas d wolfwood #trigun #trigun maximum #but onto this comic... i think and talk a LOT about vash's loneliness bc trigun is just. kind of central on that for a good while! esp in #the original manga he was alone for a good portion of it and he tends to keep others away like how he ran away from meryl and milly when #they tried to tag along. and he was kind of bothered when he realized ww was following him around Too. at the core even though he loves #humans and he loves deeply the people he does know -- he isnt really much of a people person and i think thats been the case since he was #young considering his initial doubts towards humans... with the exception of kids bc kids dont give him moral conflicts. so suddenly #here comes wolfwood!!! his guide. someone TRULY affixed to him until he has to get to knives. someone who isnt budging and someone whos #really good at following him around and even seems like he goes like 5 steps ahead to make sure vash doesnt run on him #in one way its - i don't want you to follow me bc i don't want to burden you and i don't want you to kill the people i want to save. #in another way its - i like this companionship. i like waking up to you and i like ending the way with you. i like talking to someone who #knows my world. i like being in your space and sometimes i enjoy talking about our day #theyre just living together. like. roadtrip buddies or theyre also under the same roof because they're going everywhere together. #trimax they mainly spend their mornings together and if they had personal business attend the other person would usually know and itd only #be during the midday. anyway bc of this kind of companionship i figure that vash eventually grew accustom to it and he really. cant go back #to the kind of loneliness from before. it's harder to imagine and it'd be harder to withstand. esp after 2 years with lina and her grandma. #ruporas art

[bluebeesknees]

coolest kids on the chopping block 🌅

#my art #satosugu #gego #I was just gonna practice some fashion and then it ran away from me #gojo #geto #geto suguru #gojo satoru #stsg #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen fanart #bluebeesart #I want getos outfit so bad

[tsukinoshinjiu]

The Goddess Hylia Reborn

#my art #artwork #digital art #artists on tumblr #art #legend of zelda #zelda #skyward sword #ss #skyward zelda #hylia #goddess hylia #kinda feel like the metaphor ran away from me again #but its in there somewhere #probably #cw blood #blood #blood cw

[flowercrowngods]

based on this concept of steve and mike coming out to each other

🤍 also on ao3

The sun is setting in beautiful hues of pink and purple, tinging the town of Hawkins, Indiana, in a light of serenity and beauty it doesn’t really deserve. Steve’s hands are gripped tight around the steering wheel as he carefully scans the road and the houses he passes.

He almost misses the bike where it’s lying on the curb, carelessly discarded by the looks of it, and a tinge of worry shadows his frown. Worry that doesn’t quite dissipate when he spots the figure sitting on the roof, almost black against the lilac colour of the sky, but he breathes a sigh of relief. He considers grabbing the radio to let the others know he found Mike, but decides against it. Something tells him that maybe they’ll take a while. Something tells him there’s more to Will’s stunned silence and Mike’s sudden departure from where they were all hanging out at Steve’s after another successful Hellfire session. 

With a sigh, Steve cuts the engine and gets out of the car, keeping his eyes on Mike the whole time — ready for him to take off again, ready to go sit a while and wait for him to come back. But Mike doesn’t move, even after he shuts the door and approaches the Wheelers’ house. He doesn’t acknowledge Steve when he pulls himself up to the roof, easier this time than the first time he did this. 

There’s a snide comment in the air between them, a version of Mike that would have lashed out at him, made fun of and insulted him. But this one just sits there, hands in his lap, frown on his face, and stares ahead. 

“What do you want,” he asks eventually, though it doesn’t have the kind of heat that Steve expects. He barely even sounds like a teenager. Just sort of… dejected. Steve aches for him; just a little bit. 

“Just making sure you’re alright,” Steve says, shrugging, looking ahead as well so Mike doesn’t feel watched. Or seen, maybe. 

Because the thing is, Steve does see him. He sees the way he looks at Will sometimes, and the way his eyes fill with something that can only be described as yearning, or aching, followed by regret and fear. Which always, always turn into anger. Into frustration. Into snide comments and rolled eyes and walls that keep getting an inch added to them each day. It’s never directed at Will, that anger, and rarely at the rest of the Party, but Steve still sees it. Gets the worst of it and takes it, because he knows something about how that feels. 

He knows something about looking at someone like that, about feeling that fear, that regret, that worry that come with it. He knows something about never really daring to meet someone’s eyes for fear of what they would see. 

“I’m alright,” Mike says, sounding anything but. There’s a bitterness in his voice. Frustration in the way his thumb is picking at the skin of his fingers. Confusion in the tension of his shoulders, and Steve feels like he only needs to make one wrong move, say one wrong word, make a single sound that’s off key to the melody of this moment, and Mike will jump off the roof and take off again with his bike. 

So all he says, after a moment’s consideration, is, “Cool.” Like he believes him. Giving Mike room to breathe, room to pretend. He knows something about that, too. 

He knows and he sees and he feels. 

And suddenly he wants to say something he’s never said before, something he didn’t even get to tell Robin because she knew and saw and felt, too, taking something from him that he hasn’t yet been ready to reclaim for himself. 

And maybe it’s because he sees something of himself in the way Mike holds himself, in the way he snaps at anyone willing to listen, in the way he frowns in regret and barely meets anyone’s eyes except when it’s in challenge — and, most of all, in the way he never, never meets Will’s eyes. In the way he looks away when the other boy turns to him, and in the way his eyes will snap back and take in everything about his best friend when he’s not aware of it. 

Maybe it’s because the sky is pink and lilac and purple above them, allowing for a certain magic to happen, allowing for a bravery that doesn’t come easy to him; but as he sits on the roof next to Mike Wheeler, the only one of the Party he never really connected with, he closes his eyes against the breeze that catches in his hair and opens his jacket a little further, slithering beneath the fabric as if in a brief embrace, a nudge, a sign to take this leap, and takes a deep breath. 

His heart is picking up its pace inside his chest, taking this leap along wit him, and pulls up one of his legs to wrap his hands around it — just to have something to hold onto. 

He opens his mouth once, twice, three times, but the words never really come out. They don’t know how, and he’s beginning to tremble a little with it, tension building in his chest where the words are still locked away, hidden among layers of truth. 

Mike looks over with a frown and eyes him warily. It makes Steve want to laugh, this sudden change of pace, but he just keeps staring ahead; even when Mike asks, “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah,” Steve says. And then then dam is broken and breaking further, and with another deep breath, still not meeting Mike’s eyes, instead focusing on the tree tops in the distance that shine in hues of purple, he finally says, “I’m kind of dating Eddie Munson.” 

And just like that, it’s out. He’s out. 

He doesn’t know if the world still spins, if time still passes, if he still breathes, because for a moment there is only silence. Mike stops picking at the skin of his fingers, Steve stops trembling, and neither of them moves. 

It’s both anticlimactic and momentous, this silence between them when their eyes meet. When the words unfold and grow wings, when Mike understands, his eyes growing big with something that Steve can’t quite read with how tense he is despite his best efforts. 

The silence stretches between them, surpassing comfort and overstaying its welcome, and suddenly it’s Steve who feels like he’s about to take off if Mike so much as twitches his brows. 

“You… What?” 

Forget it, Steve wants to say. Nothing. 

But also, I’m in love with Eddie Munson. And I used to be in love with Nancy. And that’s okay. Both of that, it’s okay. 

He ends up repeating his words, though, because they know what it’s like to be spoken now. “Eddie. I’m kind of dating Eddie.” 

“But…” It’s Mike now whose mouth is opening and closing without saying anything. Mike who’s blinking, trembling a little, twitching, picking at his skin again, moving further along his hand this time to pinch the skin between his thumb and pointer finger. Steve almost reaches out to stop him, but he doesn’t really dare to. 

“But?” he prompts after a while, not quite comfortable with this loaded kind of silence. 

“Eddie’s a boy.” 

But Tammy Thompson is a girl. 

“I know,” Steve says, his tone carefully neutral, wanting to see, to wait where Mike takes this, to hear what’s on his mind, to watch the wheels turn and the gears shift. He feels awfully raw and open, vulnerable with someone who hasn’t been treating that with care yet. But there’s something about this moment that feels bigger than his own fears, bigger than the light nausea settling in his gut; far more important than the way he wants to run and hide, away from the scrutiny. 

“And…” Mike continues, still battling the words inside his head. Steve wonders if there are too many or none at all. “But you… You loved Nancy.” 

Ah. Smart boy. “I did,” Steve says with a small smile. “And it was never a lie. But I found that… Yeah, I can kinda like boys, too, y’know? And that’s, like, okay.”

A beat. A frown. A confused, hopeful, small, “It is?” 

Steve just nods, smiling in reassurance and relief at equal measures. Silence settles once more, now that the sky has darkened into a deeper, darker blue; but it’s not as loaded this time, not as tense. It’s an invitation. An offering. A promise of I’m here, I’m with you, you can take as long as you need. To get down from the roof, to come back, to come out of wherever you think you need to hide from the world. 

Mike takes it. He stays, pulling up his leg, too, mirroring Steve’s pose and staring ahead, but not as far away. He seems alert, seems to be thinking rather than dwelling, seems to be gearing up for something. Steve watches and sees and knows, remaining patient beside him, his chin resting on his knee as Mike learns to deal with this new world that has been presented to him. This new world that comes with opportunities and chances and possibilities that are scary and big and difficult to make. 

“Y’know,” Mike starts at last, interrupting the silence, playing with it, his voice hushed and quiet to keep it from disappearing completely. “Lucas, when he had that championship game? He told us, Dustin and me, that we didn’t have to be the losers this time. The nerds. The outcasts. Different. And all I wanted was to scream at him, because…” 

Mike swallows his words, keeping them from tumbling out of his mouth, and Steve aches for him again. He wants to reach out, wants to say it’s okay, tell him it’s alright, to take his time. But he waits in silence, lets Mike find the bravery he needs on his own, and waits. 

“Because how could he say that, you know? How could he, when… Will wasn’t there. And all I did, all I ever did anymore, was miss him. And I loved El, I knew I did. And she was gone, too, but…” 

He trails off again, and this time Steve picks it up. To let him know he’s not alone. To let Mike know he understands what he’s saying. He understands. “But she’s not Will. You needed Will.” 

“But I shouldn’t!” Mike explodes suddenly, riled up because Steve adds fuel to the fire, because Steve has that same fire, too; and because they are so, so similar when they want to be. “And now he’s back and it should be fine, I shouldn’t be feeling like this, it doesn’t even make sense! How can I…” 

Steve looks at him, at his expression that is nothing but lost — completely and utterly. He’s seen it on the bathroom floor at the mall; high out of his mind as he was, he’ll never forget the way Robin looked at him, the sheer crestfallen expression. All that confusion, all that fear and frustration and, in the end, resignation. He’s seen it in the mirror, and he’s seen it in those pretty brown eyes that he just can’t get out of his head anymore. 

He offers, gently, “How can you need him when he’s right there? How can you love him when a year ago you loved El?”

And Mike just looks at him before he deflates completely, his shoulders falling along with his face. He nods. Shrugs. Looks away and hides his face behind his leg. 

Steve sighs softly, watching the boy and speaking the words he wants to say the sixteen year-old version of himself. “I don’t know,” he says truthfully. “I really don’t, and it sucks sometimes, having this need to, like, decide. Or understand. Or stop and be like the rest of them.” Like Robin and Eddie, or like the rest of the world. “But I like to think, sometimes, that maybe it’s a good thing. That there’s just… I don’t know, it sounds corny as hell, but like, there’s just so much love to give, we can’t even stick to only boys or girls, y’know.” 

“That does sound real corny as fuck, man,” Mike says, and back is that long suffering tone of his, back is that eye roll and the twitching elbow, ready to nudge Steve in the side. It’s still tinged with that vulnerability, not quite Mike yet, but it’s an offering.

One of many tonight, it seems.

Steve grins, a bit lopsided and raw, shoving Mike gently as he remembers something he overheard once. “Sorry, mister Heart of our group, but I don’t think you have any leg to stand on here.”

That makes Mike freeze, though, and he stares at Steve wide-eyed; caught. Exposed. Reminded.

“What did you say?”

“Uh,” Steve falters, not sure where he went wrong — or if he went wrong at all. “I overheard Will calling you that, talking about you to, uhm. Someone. I don’t know. Why, what’s— What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Mike says, way too quickly, pulling away again with everything he has, hiding behind those walls once more, and Steve feels whiplash from it.

“Mike,” he says, his voice quiet and gentle as he turns to face him completely.

“No.”

“It’s okay,” Steve says. Promises, as much as he can.

“Shut up!”

“You’re not wrong or bad or broken. It’s okay, you’re okay.”

“I said, shut up, Steve.”

“You should see the way he looks at you, too. You should go talk to him. You—“

Mike lashes out, finally coming out from behind those walls again, only to shove at Steve, to push him away — hard enough for him to lose his balance and almost fall off the roof, clenching one hand on the edge, the other in the rainwater gutter with a bitten-off curse.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” Mike reaches for him immediately, snapping out of whatever anger Steve caused, and pulling him back until he’s safe again, apologising over and over, dead to Steve’s promises that it’s alright. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, Steve, I’m so—“

He pulls Mike against his chest, finally reaching out to hold the boy who always pushes people away when they get too close — quite literally, too.

But he doesn’t shove this time, doesn’t move out of Steve’s grasp as the mumbled apologies become heaving sobs.

“It’s okay, you’re okay, you’re so okay, Mike,” Steve tells him over and over as he holds him. The sky above is almost black now and Steve lets Mike cry into his chest.

It takes a while for Mike to calm down, but Steve just holds him through it, ready to let go whenever Mike wants to pull back and snap out of it again — but he never does, and Steve feels a certain kind of affection for the boy that is usually reserved for Lucas or Dustin.

At last, when he’s calmed down, Mike pulls back a little. “Do you really… Does it… Is it really okay?”

Can it be okay? Can I really like both? Is that not just me, being broken and wrong and bad? Will I get the chance to not be alone?

Steve swallows hard, and his voice is hoarse when he says, “Yeah. It’s really okay. ‘N’ I’m with you, yeah? If someone gives you shit for it. Or if you need a reminder.”

And Mike — puffy eyed, snotty nosed, so, so young — looks at him with those trusting eyes and nods, like he believes Steve. Like he trusts him. Like he hopes.

“Just don’t fucking shove me off your roof again.”

Ans just like that, the spell is broken, the tension is lifted, and silence has left them, as Mike almost chokes on a laugh and shoves at him again, lightly this time, before jumping off the roof so Steve can’t retaliate.

“Asshole,” he mutters, shaking his head as he, too, jumps off the roof, dusting off his pants as he watches Mike grabbing his bike. “Hey, Micycle,” he calls, cackling when Mike flips him the bird. “You want a ride back?”

Mike stops, considering as Steve casually flicks his keys into the air and catches them expertly. “What kinda music do you got?”

“The Clash, ‘cause Eddie hates them.”

“Yeah, that’s because they suck!”

Steve snorts, opening the driver’s side door. “Y’know, they’re one of Will’s favourites, actually.”

He watches Mike freeze with a grin on his face, knowing there’s no way the boy would take the bike.

“You’re so annoying,” Mike sighs as he brings his bike close to the garage and carefully lays it on the grass this time before hurrying over to Steve, getting in on the front, rolling his eyes when Steve cackles. “I don’t know why Eddie would date you—“

His words are drowned out when Steve turns up Train in Vain, drumming along on the steering wheel with a shit eating grin. Though the atmosphere is wildly different now, the spell broken and the bubble burst, it’s undeniable that something happened between them. Something big, something important.

Something that makes Mike’s annoyed, long-suffering expression be broken by the smile he’s trying to hide. It makes Steve laugh, elated and feeling something that’s much, much bigger than he himself ever could be.

It’s going to be okay. So, so okay.

Before they know it, they’re pulling up to Steve’s and he turns off the car, is about to get out when Mike makes him still again.

“Hey, Steve?”

“Hm?”

“I think it’s cool. You and Eddie.”

He smiles, relief and fondness washing over him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks.” He reaches over and ruffles Mike’s hair — a wild mane these days, but they could make it work with some care and some products. “Now go get your man, lover boy.”

“God, you suck so much, you’re so annoying!”

Steve’s cackling again when the passenger door slams shut and Mike lets himself into his house.

He spots a figure in the dark, their face lighting up when they take a drag of a cigarette — and Steve’s heart stumbles in his chest. He scrambles to get out, attempting to look calm and collected, even though Eddie always manages to see right through him.

“Hello, stranger,” he says, leaning against the wall beside Eddie, hiding away in the dark, where the world won’t see their shoulders touch, or their fingers tentatively playing with each other before they can’t take it no longer and lace their hands, holding on tight.

“Hi,” Eddie breathes. “How’d it go?”

“Fine, I think. But, uhm… I told him. About me. About us. That, uh. That okay?”

Even in the dark, Steve can feel eyes on him, but he just stares ahead, opting instead to give his warm hand a squeeze. He smiles when Eddie’s thumb begins to draw patterns on his palm.

“Hmm. Very. You think they’ll be okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve breathes, stealing Eddie’s cigarette from his mouth and pulling it between his own lips. “Yeah, I think they will be.”

#steve & mike #steve harrington #mike wheeler #steddie #byler #pre-relationship byler #real hesitant to use the pairing tags tho 🥺😭 #this kinda ran away from me i feel like i’m gonna have to try again with better words but here’s what i got for a first try #i write this whole 3.2k words thing tonight it is 2am i should proofread this but i have a lecture early in the morning i get 5h of sleep #(but only if i fall asleep right this instant which. ain’t happening chief. anyway uh depression era words? #dio words #and yes the bisexual light of this whole scene is important thanks for asking

[lavenderstobins]

It's the third day in a row that Wayne Munson has seen the girl in the diner.

Usually, he doesn't pay attention to new faces. He's been frequenting the diner for some years now and there's often ones he doesn't recognise: people passing through Hawkins, visiting family, etc.

The girl has caught his attention, though. She's sitting tucked into the far corner of the diner, a glass of water in front of her and nothing else. She's wearing the same t-shirt and flannel shirt she'd been wearing yesterday, and the day before, he's pretty sure. She didn't order any food yesterday; she hasn't ordered any food today.

Bev likes to joke he has a sense for kids who need help. Says there's an alarm in his head that makes him worry himself sick whenever there's a waif in need.

She's sitting next to him now, one eyebrow raised. He sighs. Waif in need alarm, indeed.

"What's the deal with the kid?" he murmurs, nodding subtly in the girl's direction.

Bev shrugs. "Beats me. That's Robert's girl, that's all I know."

He frowns. "Robert?"

"Nurse. Took good care of me when my knee went bad." She takes a swig of coffee, her eyes going sad. "Died, oh, maybe eight months back."

Wayne looks back at the girl. She's staring down at her half-empty glass of water. Tucked under the table there's a bulky-looking backpack.

"She got family?"

"Just her mother, far as I know. Met her a couple of times, too. 'Nother nurse. Seems nice enough."

"Hmph." Wayne turns back to his coffee. Ain't his business, he tells himself firmly. He should focus on his lunch.

When he gets up to pay, he glances once more in the girl's direction. He'll give it a couple of days, he decides. If she's still here then, still in the same clothes, he'll see if she's alright.

—

Wayne doesn't even last the day.

He's on his way home from work when he sees movement in a phonebox on the side of the road. The road's empty aside from him, and it's raining, and the sky's getting dark, so it immediately strikes him as odd. When he sees it's the teenage girl from earlier, he nearly crashes his truck with how hard he hits the brakes.

She's huddled down in the phonebox, clasping the backpack he'd noticed. She looks sodden. It had been raining heavier earlier; from the looks of it, she'd been caught in it. Her hair's plastered to her face and she's shivering.

He's winding down his window before his brain's even caught up to the movement. He's actually not sure how to go about it, very conscious of the fact that it's just the two of them out here and she's a teenage girl while he's an old man.

Feeling very much like he's approaching a wild animal, he clears his throat. "You okay, miss?"

The girl jumps, her head jerking up. She looks at him with wild eyes, wide and afraid. She reminds him of Eddie the day he showed up on his doorstep, timid and small.

"I'm f—fine." Her teeth chatter as she speaks. Where is this girl's mother? Where are her guardians?

"You need to call someone? I got a couple o'quarters, I think."

She shakes her head. Wayne frowns. Something ain't sitting right with him.

"You waiting on your ma?"

To his horror, her face crumples, and she buries her face in her arms. He's out of the truck like a shot, rushing over to find her shoulders heaving.

"Now, now—" He's panicking, admittedly. She can't be much younger than Eddie is.

"She—She—" the girl sobs. "She kicked me out and I—I don't have anywhere to go and it's so cold and wet and—and—"

A bout of rage washes over him. He pushes it down, tugging his jacket off and draping it over her shoulders. It doesn't have a hood, but it's dry. Christ, she must be soaked to the bone.

"Listen," Wayne starts, hesitating almost immediately. It's an insane suggestion from a strange man; he doesn't want to scare her off, but he doesn't want her spending the night in this phonebox, either. "I got a kid about your age. My Eddie. You come to mine and we can get you sorted out, okay? Or—Or I can find you a motel room, or something."

Sniffling, the girl looks up at him, wrapping herself up in his jacket. "Is that... is that okay?"

His heart breaks. "Yeah. Yeah, 'course."

She stands, wobbly, still clutching her backpack. She's soaked through like he'd thought, and she shivers once she's in the front seat. He's quick to turn the heating up, starting the truck again, and for a moment he's furious: her immediate agreement, the lack of hesitation about getting into a vehicle with a strange man, makes him boil with hatred towards this girl's mother.

The journey's quiet and, thankfully, not too long. Wayne ushers her into the trailer, already preparing to make a steaming mug of hot chocolate. Eddie's out at Jeff's for band practice, so he says, but Wayne knows him well enough to know he'll come home stinking of weed.

The girl stands awkwardly in the living room, still shivering. It occurs to him, suddenly, that he doesn't even know her name.

Still. An issue for later. He focuses on the hot chocolate. Once it's ready, he hands it over to her, and doesn't miss how eagerly she accepts it.

Only then does he broach the subject. "What's your name, miss?"

She's quiet a moment, cradling the mug in her hands. "It's Robin. Uh, Robin, sir."

"None of that 'sir' business," he says gruffly. "Name's Wayne. Eddie'll be home later but you can have his bed if you need a place to stay for the night."

This might be the most he's spoken in years, trying desperately to come across as reassuring. It breaks his heart how trusting she's being, though.

"Thank you." Robin goes quiet, her fingers curling around the handle of the mug. "I, um, I can pay you back for the ride—"

He waves a hand, frowning. "None of that. I'd like to think if it were my Ed in your shoes, someone would be there for him like this."

She manages a small smile. She's still in her soaking clothes. He hustles over to Eddie's room, raiding the drawers for whatever looks most comfortable. Eddie won't complain, he knows.

Robin gratefully accepts the clothes. He goes back into Eddie's room to give her privacy, unsure exactly how long to wait. There's that stereotype that women take forever to change, right? It must hold some truth.

He gives it an hour, just to be safe. When he emerges, he finds that she's curled up on the couch, out like a light. His jacket's pulled up to her chin like a blanket.

Waif in need alarm. He sighs. Bev's right after all. He won't be surprised if this situation resolves with him having another kid in his care.

Well, Eddie always wanted a sister, anyway.

#wayne adopts robin au #stranger things #wayne munson #robin buckley #eddie munson #my writing #st ficlet #st fic #this ran away from me so unbelievably badly #my wips