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sp0o0kylights · 7 months

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Part One

The drive's short one.

Steve gets out of his car, opening the passenger door for Chrissy and escorting her up to the house, quietly envisioning what Jason would look like if a real monster got him.

What would he say, staring down the crazy, five-starred head, filled with teeth and drool? Would he turn back? Or run?

(Steve swears he doesn't take great pleasure in imagining Carver getting eaten, but he'll admit to taking a little.)

"Chrissy do you have any idea--oh." Mrs. Cunningham startles, grasping her robe at the front as she spots Steve standing next to her daughter.

"Hi Miss Cunningham." He says.

"Hello." She says suspiciously. "And who are you?"

"I'm Steve Harrington, ma'am." He watches as her mother straightens immediately at his name, and sinks right into the ol' Harrington charm, knowing instantly it will work. "I know you were expecting Jason, but I'm afraid he wasn't able to drive Chrissy home."

"Oh, Steve! It's so late I almost didn't recognize you." She titters, suspicion gone. "Your mother and I are on the same charity board."

Of course they were.

"I thought you were dating that nice Nancy girl." She says with a squint that mimics Chrissy's, because even in the midst of a crisis he can't escape the gossip that is Hawkins upper echelon.

"Nance is waiting in the car." Steve lies smoothly. "I just wanted to make sure Chrissy got home safe."

"What happened?" Chrissy's father appears, ushering them both in while blatantly peering around them, eyes sweeping the street before closing the door.

Steve recognizes the move. He's checking for nosy neighbors.

"Jason and I broke up." Chrissy admits.

"What?"

"We..." She falters in front of her parents.

"What happened to Jason?" Her father asks, tuning back in once they're safely away from peering eyes.

"I'm afraid Jason and some of his friends brought beer to the party." Steve steps in to explain.

"Oh Chrissy, it's a high school party. That's no reason to break up with him." Her mother fusses, face flushing in embarrassment. Her eyes dart from her daughter to Steve and back, and Steve knows he needs to start damage control.

If he plays it right he can burn Jason while he's at it.

"He was horrible, mom. Just awful." Chrissy says, but Steve can tell she's shrinking under her mothers gaze.

"He drank quite a lot, Miss Cunningham." With a theatrical wince, Steve turns to face Chrissy's dad, lowers his voice and says "I'm going to have to talk to Coach about it."

He gets the intended response, which is a raised eyebrow. "That bad, huh?"

Steve nods once, painting a pained smile on his face. "He made a real fool of himself tonight, Sir. The basketball team has a reputation to uphold."

"Oh." Mrs. Cunningham says, hand fluttering in front of her face. "I never would have thought…"

"He's normally a good guy. I don't know what got into him." Steve has them both eating out of the palm of his hand, attention neatly off Chrissy and onto the story he's feeding them.

Its worth it to see her shoulders relax.

"I couldn't let him take Chrissy home in the state he was in Sir, and he got very…"

Steve pauses.

Fills his voice with tempered disappointment, channeling his dad. "Belligerent. Said some nasty things."

"Really?" Mr. Cunningham says, with a low whistle, and Steve knows by his tone alone that he's bought in.

Hook, line, sinker.

Steve nods once. "I have to get back to my girlfriend, but Chrissy'" He turns earnestly here, to let her know he's not faking this next bit. "Let me know if Jason bothers you at school. I'll set him straight again if I have to."

"Thank you Steve." Mr. Cunningham says, as Chrissy's mom hustles her daughter towards the kitchen.

Steve shakes his hand, then waves at Crissy as she calls her own thank you over her shoulder, before disappearing out the door and back to his car.

The same one where Nancy very much isn't.

That's a problem for tomorrow Steve.

xXx

Tomorrow Steve gets into an argument with Nancy.

She can't recall that Jonathan took her home, or that he's bullshit, their whole relationship, bullshit--

But she also can't tell him she loves him.

So Steve snaps at her. Storms off.

Play’s more basketball.

It takes less than two hours for him to get mopey and another three for him to spiral into deciding he was wrong somehow.

That's what his mom said all the time anyway, wasn't it? The man's always wrong Steven, and he's the man here so…

He gets flowers, chocolates, and fucking waylaid (by Dustin Henderson with his Grow a Monster) and things go sideways from there.

Train tracks and a junkyard and demodogs make time speed up. An encounter with Billy and a dinner plate causes Steve's recollection of the evening to be fuzzy.

He just knows that in the middle of dodging death, he has the realization that Nance wants to break up with him.

That he should let her.

Even if it hurts, even if he doesn't want to.

She wants to be let go.

So Steve does. He respects her, and when he has a moment after its all over, he tells her to go with Jonathan.

(At least he permanently gets the squirts out if this. Or at least everyone but Mike.

Even if most of them are shitheads and one of them's Hargrove's step sister.

It's--something.

But when Dustin keeps pestering him, demanding Steve drive him all over Hawkins and then drags him to the movies, well.

It might be the best something Steve's had in his life so far. )

xXx

"Oh shit. Is that from Caver?" Eddie asks, popping up near Steve's car like the clown in a jack in the box.

"Carver can't hit for shit. This was Hargrove." Steve replies, attempting an eyeroll before remembering that his entire face is a bruise.

One, giant, never ending bruise.

"I guess his step sister gave him the slip to come hang out with these kids I watch sometimes. I didn't know she wasn't supposed to be there." Steve shrugs, because it's the technical truth.

If you turn it sideways and squint anyway.

"Asshole tried to threaten the kid Max is into by slamming him into a wall and screaming shit, so I stepped in, and--" He waves at his face.

The same one he's already getting looks for.

"I was winning." Steve sighs theatrically. "He broke a plate over my head."

The story seemed to freeze Eddie but he recovers with a quick shake of his head.

"You poor thing." He tuts. "Let me guess--you were more worried about the hair than the wound?"

Eddie's hands flutter like he's going to touch Steve's head but he seems to contain himself at the last minute.

The hospital threatened to buzz it for stitches." Steve says darkly, playing into the bit.

(He had not gone to a hospital.

None of them had.)

"What would our King be without his crown of hair?" Eddie laments, in a falsetto that was half insult half oddly sincere. It was jarring in that it was hard to get a read on, but the more Steve was around the guy the less it seemed malicious and the more it came off as just….goofy.

Eddie Munson, Steve decided, was not a freak.

He was a dorky little weirdo, just like all the other kids Steve now hung out with.

Just older, and with slightly better hair.

"Hey Eddie." Another boy calls out, approaching cautiously.

He's got a leather jacket on, and if Steve thinks hard enough he can sort of conjure up a memory of the guy at Eddie's lunch table, throwing a piece of bread at a pale sophomore decked out in plaid. "You good man?"

"Yeah Jeff, just checkin' in on the Hair here." Eddie sticks a thumb towards Steve, who raises his hand and waves.

The falsetto comes back, somehow higher as the older boy swoons over Steves arm. "Soothing his poor soul after that brute Hargrove almost killed him."

"Has anyone ever told you you're a lot like Bugs Bunny?" Steve asks, the thought leaving his mouth the instant he had it.

(He doesn't care, it's a legitimate question.)

It has the effect of making Munson look downright chuffed. "I have actually, but only by my Uncle."

"Why are you checking in?" Jeff interrupts, before seeming to realize he said it out loud. " Ah, I mean--"

"Oh he didn't tell you?" Steve says, as casually as he can muster. "Eddie claimed me and Chrissy at a party last weekend."

See Munson? Two people could play the weird bit game.

They've attracted more of Eddie's friends now, two more boys in leather jackets edging closer like frightened deer.

(One of which is the aforementioned younger man Jeff threw bread at, and Steve vaguely thinks the guy's name starts with a g.)

"Apparently we're his minions now." Steve tells Jeff in a rather put upon manner.

"It was just you, the fair maiden chose otherwise." Eddie counters dismissively, voice dropping down low.

Steve snorts. Hums a sarcastic; "Like you'd let us choose."

Eddie finally abandons whatever voice that was supposed to be (a villain, Steve thinks, and wonders if it hurts Eddies throat to drop from a false high to a deep low that quickly.) to say:

"Mock me all you like, Harrington, but you can't deny the bit worked."

Steve automatically went for another eye roll, and gets a flash of pain for it. "Who said I was mocking you, you dork? Just stating facts."

Yet again, Eddie reacts weird to the comment. He looks almost bashful for a second, before he recovers, tugging his hair in front of his face as he plays with it.

The bell rings once in warning, and Steve makes a face towards the doors.

"I gotta go, Mrs Clicks out to fail me. See you around, Eddie. Jeff." The way his eyes are bruised up he can't quite make out the face Jeff makes at that, but Steve's pretty sure the guys mouth was open.

"She's a nasty one, my minion, best stay on your toes around her." Eddie calls, and Steve waves a hand in the air to show he heard.

"What just happened?" Jeff asks, far too loudly for how close Steve still is.

It makes him chuckle a bit, even as one of the other guys says something in a far quieter voice that has Munson squawking and flapping his arms like a bird.

The winding little feelings in his chest squeeze his heart, and Steve shakes his head, refusing to be fond of Eddie Munson.

xXx

College rejection letters come in, one after the another.

Steve could have made it into a few schools he's certain, except he hadn't really applied to any.

Not that any college other than Penn Hurst mattered. His dad wanted him to be a legacy, come hell or high water.

Steve's punishment was hand picked by his parents, and he gets the sailor outfit his new minimum wage job requires is supposed to be a part of it--that his dad made him apply because it was the most embarrassing thing he could think to subject Steve too-- but honestly?

It's not that bad.

Not even with Robin, the manager he met yesterday, and who positively, completely and totally, hates Steve’s guts.

He figures he has time to win her over.

All the time in the world, now that demons aren't trying to eat his, or any of the kid's, faces. He can focus on the small things. Build himself back up.

Figure out the person he wants to be, now that he's no longer King Steve.

It’s the thought that kept him from attending any graduation parties. To go felt like backsliding into old habits.

‘If the kids--if it comes back again--’

Getting drunk at night in a random house seemed almost irresponsible.

Particularly not with people Steve has history with, without anyone he really cares about being present. Certainly not Nance and Jonathan, who he wishes he didn’t know are at some end-of-year game night one of Nancy’s friends is hosting.

(Steve can’t think about that for a number of reasons.

When he does--because of course he does-- he makes sure to focus on the weirdness that is Jonathan Byers being someone he cares about, instead of the fact he can’t seem to kill his love for Nancy.

Or that he's horrifically jealous of their relationship.

That the best sleep he had ever had was between them, two nights after the lab, when they crammed themselves into Jonathan's bed because they all couldn't quite believe it was over.

That night had been so incredibly weird, but grouping together felt safer. Smarter.

Better.

Not in a way Steve wants to put into words.

Not in a way he wants to confront at all.)

His parents hadn’t been able to make it home to watch him walk at his graduation--his father landing a last minute meeting with some important person or other.

Faked apologies were given, money transferred, and Steve, not wanting to sit in his too-huge house, had meandered to Family Video.

Tried to forget his father’s cold voice in the background of his mother’s call, loudly announcing he’d have made it a priority to see Steve graduate-- if he’d gotten into Penn Hurst.

Steve just shakes his head. Pushes those thoughts into the back of his head, into the same place all his other weird thoughts live.

The glare he gets from the tall, pimple-ridden guy working the rental counter was expected.

Chrissy Cunningham, was not.

"I thought you’d be at one of the parties.” He tells her, when he turns down the romance aisle and finds her staring blankly at a shelf.

She startles, before recognition flits over her face and a warm smile is directed his way.

“I'm honestly not a fan of parties." She confides in him, hand clutching a tape in her hands."Not those kinds, anyway.”

"More slumber parties, less keg stands your speed?" Steve guessed, blatantly turning his head sideways in order to read the title.

She awards him with a wider smile. "Exactly."

"Chrissy Cunningham. Are you renting Jaws?" He teases, leaning in just a touch.

She flushes, but turns and squares up to him. Steve's delighted to see it.

"Why yes I am. I'll do you one better and even admit it's one of my favorite movies."

Steve grins at her, and sees the way she lights up on response, eyes bright.

This is the Chrissy that Carver had tried to kill. The strength and pure fun that radiates off her enhances the beauty she has to something almost otherworldly.

Steve has seen enough beauty in his life to recognize when it will stay. That Chrissy wil one day be 80 years old, with gray hair and knit sweaters, and she'll still be able to light up a room.

"Like sharks killing people that much huh?” He teases. And it’s easy, slipping into this part of himself around her. The part he’s been trying to get back.

The confidence that he walked with, before monsters crawled out of the ground, and Nancy put a hole in his heart.

"I'll let you in on a secret. ." Chrissy leans in, dropping her voice low enough that Steve has to lean in a bit too to hear. "My favorite character is the shark."

Steve playfully gapes at her, and for the first time in a long time, feels like things will be okay.

He’ll be okay.

He won’t be King Steve. He’s not Nancy's Boyfriend Steve either--but someone else. Himself.

A Steve who exists outside of Hawkins High, outside his family name.

He likes it.

"I told you that was his car. Steve!" A too familiar voice calls and Steve can't mask the despair that hits him as he turns to his (now least) favorite shithead, whose storming through Family Video’s doors.

"Dustin." He identifies, with an edge to his voice he can only pray Chrissy doesn't pick up on. "Other brats. What are you doing?"

Mike stands stubbornly at Dustin's right, Lucas nervous at his left.

Will Byers is situated next to Mike but Steve's not as familiar with him, and has no idea how to interpret the kid.

If he had to guess based on the face he’s being sent, Will’s more nervous then the rest--but equally determined.

(This does not make Steve feel better. It in fact, somewhat convinces them they’ve run headfirst back into trouble.)

"Well we were going to go to Lucas’s, but now, we're bumming a ride from you!"

"I'm busy." He says flatly.

"Ste~eeeve!"

"I didn't know you had a brother." Chrissy says, hand covering her mouth.

Looking back at her, Steve's pretty sure she's trying to physically hold back laughter.

If one could shoot lasers with their eyes, Steve would be nailing Dustin for ruining--whatever it was that was happening here.

"He's a rescue" Steve says flatly. "It’s not working out though. We're planning on returning him to the shelter.”

"Wow Steve." Dustin returns, offended. "First of all, if anyone's rescuing anyone I rescued you, or did you suddenly forget that you show up to family dinner every Thursday at my house like a sad orpha--mmpphh!"

‘Mmpphh’ because Steve had taken several long strides across the store to smack his hand over Dustin's mouth.

"Sorry Chrissy, it would appear the asshole children I am paid to babysit escaped whoever is supposed to be watching them." He shakes Dustins head, in lue of strangling him. “Hit me up later we’ll discuss the shark’s best kills.”

“Will do.” Chrissy says, as Steve begins the process of shoving his four smaller friends out the door. “Drive safe!”

“No you don’t, and you’re gonna prove it by swinging through McDonalds for us.” Dustin sing-songs, swinging himself into the passenger side of the Beemer.

“You assholes owe me, big time.” Steve hisses, as Lucas and Mike instantly begin making kissy faces the second they’re out into the parking lot. "I had plans tonight!"

“Do you have McDonalds money?” Steve asks, only to immediately wince at himself because fuck did he just sound like a soccer mom.

“I have money I took out of my mom’s wallet.” Mike says as he settles into the car with his friends.

“Fine.” Steve sighs in defeat, starting the car.

He determinedly does not ask if the idiots walked here, because there is a suspicious lack of bicycles, if only because he hit his mom quota for the day and Steve refuses to say anything else that might edge out his cool persona.

The one he swears he still has.

Supposedly.

("Does my mom really pay you to watch me?" Dustin asks a while later, when the other brats are distracted. His voice is painfully honest, and softer than it normally is.

"In food, yes." Steve says, because he’s not that much of an asshole--and maybe, because Dustin is truly his only friend right now.

Steve honestly looks forward to those Thursday dinners, helping Ma Henderson and having her fuss over him in a way his parents never had.

In a way no one ever had.

Dustin lands a solid kick to his ankle, making Steve curse. "That's not payment you ass!"

"Ow, God Dustin--"

"Just admit you're my actual friend, you dick!"

"Language! I swear your mom stole you from wolves, you animal--" Steve swatted at him.

Maybe, possibly later, he will go on to admit that yes, Dustin is his friend.

He will even agree to making up a stupid handshake for it.

It involves lightsabers and gore at least, which Steve insists is very cool.)

#BB is coming down to the wire #my date to post is Halloween #bc its me lol #so our regularly scheduled programing will be back shortly #steddissy #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #0o0 fanfics #steve/chrissy/eddie #for those weirdies who kept insisting this was platonic in the tags you can read this part too and be happily delusional about the endgame #its a slowburn #my calling card lmao #this fic was meant to weave around the canon plot until s4 wherein we go off the rails #this is an everyone lives fiiiiic #theyre all equally dorky with crushes #Steve has some Im Just Ken issues #angst

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p4nishers · 8 months

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no but actually imagine being immortal and meeting THE LOVE OF UR FUCKING ENDLESS LIFE and spending SIX THOUSAND MFING YEARS imagining an ETERNAL future with them and fucking knowing that you want to spend ACTUAL FOREVER with them like dude im gonna fucking choke and die how can love like that exist even in fucking fiction?? HOW??? this is making me so emotional imagine someone wanting to spend actual fucking eternity with you i would die at the mere fucking possibility. "and we spend our EXISTENCE pretending that we aren't (...) and i would like to spend–" are u fucking kidding me rn man??? fuck off fuck u shut up

#i mean yeah theyre endless beings and time never meant much for them but ohhhhh myyy goddd dude this is insane #YHEY MET MILLIONS OF YEARS AGO THEN REMET AGAIN FOR THE FIRST TIME ANS FUCKING OH MY GOD THEY WANT TO SPEND THEIR EXISTENCE TOGETHER FUCK ME #i have very strong emotions about this someone hold my hand #i just read a fuck ass fic and now i cannot be normal #good omens #good omens s2 #azicrow #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #ineffable spouses

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flowercrowngods · 1 year

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based on this post, because at this point i think it's safe to say @unclewaynemunson is actually my muse or something (hi anna i hope this is okay even though it’s, like, way angsty and way too long huh)

🤍 also on ao3

Two days after Starcourt, concussed and beaten, Steve has a seizure.

His ears are still ringing when the doctor gives him a stern glance over the rim of his glasses and pronounces him unfit to drive. No, in fact, he claims Steve poses a real danger to himself and others if he sat behind a wheel again.

Immediately, Dustin and Robin jump to promising that they won't let him do that, and in another life Steve is sure he would be grateful, or at least reasonable about it, but in this one he has a horrible second where the floor falls out from under him and he wishes, for just one second, that his head had been shaken a bit more, just enough to–

It makes him nauseous even thinking that. Everything does, lately. He closes his eyes against the offensive brightness of the hospital room and lets the sound of Dustin's and Robin's voices wash over him as he takes a moment to really take in what the doctor's orders entail.

He can't drive anymore. No more late night drives to watch the street lights pass and lull him into a safer state of mind than his bedroom walls could. No more driving the kids to their DnD sessions, no more taking Robin anywhere at the drop of a hat, no more bickering, no more reign over the music, no more stern glances through the rearview mirror, no more "Shut up, Wheeler, or you're leaving the car."

No more "Thanks, Steve!", no more "I'll bring some of mom's cookies if you drive us to the arcade", no more "You're the best" or "You're a lifesaver" or "I owe you one".

No more place for him in the group, no more use for him, no more...

No more. Nothing. Now he's just Steve, would-be lifesaver, 'has-been babysitter', 'could-have-been somebody until he lost his license to drive because he wasn't quick enough, wasn't good enough, wasn't strong enough'. Just Steve.

He doesn't know how to be that. Who is Steve Harrington without his car, without the one thing he was good for anymore?

The pit in his chest is deep enough, dark enough to pull him in, and for a moment the very thing he is good for is misery.

He waits until a nurse makes everyone leave for the night, and then he cries. It makes his head hurt, pressure building behind his eyes, but he's used to being in more pain than any teenager should be in, so he curls in on himself and hides underneath the blanket.

Here's to hoping the others won't notice just how useless he is now. Not too soon, anyway. He wants another month. A painless month filled with laughter and hugs, and then they're free to leave, to pull back slowly. Calls unanswered, radio channels changed so he won't reach them, sheepish apologies and rain checks, because now Nancy will drive them. Or Jonathan. Hell, maybe Max will take the risk just to avoid him.

---

He gets a week of daily visits in the hospital, the doctors and nurses insisting on keeping him here, a watchful eye on his vitals, scanning his head three times during his stay, insisting he has head trauma of a severely worrying degree.

Nancy picks him up from the hospital and it's awkward, tense, too much left unsaid between them but there's no one else to do it. Steve's hands are shaking, gripping the seatbelt the whole way home – and then his heart falls when he sees his Beemer in the driveway. The glorious, trusty, wonderful, best fucking car anyone could wish for. His baby. His.

He throw up into the brushes when he realises that he won't get to take it on one last ride. Maybe he shouldn't be so attached to a car. Maybe he's being pathetic about it. At least he can explain away the fat tears in his eyes now, and Nancy doesn't press.

The first thing he does when Nancy is gone is calling Robin, and she's excited when she says, "I'll come right over!" and Steve wants to ask, how, but he keeps his mouth shut, biting his lip. It's stupid, but the thought of someone else driving Robin over makes his skin crawl.

"Alright," he says instead, his voice raspy, and he hangs up before she can detect something in his voice.

After that, he goes outside again and runs his hand along his Beemer. It's shining in the sun; he had it cleaned the other week, the full program, every step in the book to celebrate four years since he got her.

"Four years, huh," Steve says, his nail catching on a minor scratch that isn't even visible but might be more familiar to him than even his home. "Damn good four years."

He's talking to his car. God, it's so stupid, it's so stupid, it's so stupid–

Steve's knees give out and he gives in to the desire that's burning under his skin sometimes, the desire to just sit down and ignore the world. Because everything is less real when you're sitting down somewhere you're not meant to be, and the ground is warm, and Steve just wants the world to go. His head is leaning back against the warm metal of the driver's door, and he closes his eyes for a while, his head still spinning, his ears still ringing, everything still awful.

After a while, there’s a shadow followed by a weight settling down between him, a head landing on his shoulder, a hand taking his.

"I'm so sorry, Stevie," Robin says. The lack of dingus makes it more real, somehow. More tragic. More pathetic.

"I'll live." And it feels a bit like a lie.

---

He gets his month. A month filled with barbecues in his backyard, the kids coming by after school to check on him, and Robin has practically moved in. Joyce picks him up on Friday nights for dinner at their house for a change of scenery.

It’s a good month, though Steve feels trapped. Caged. A bird without his wings, a boy without his car. Steve without his one purpose, the one thing he was good for. He has to be picked up because they don’t trust him walking, or they have to come to his place. And soon the worried glances that are thrown his way are too much, caging him further, reminding him of what this is. A pity party — quite literally. No one trusts him anymore, there’s always someone jumping to help him, not caring or listening to his protests.

And he can’t leave, because “What if you have a seizure in your room?”

It makes him want to scream.

Maybe it shows, or maybe everyone’s just fed up with him now that he can’t provide his taxi services anymore, but after summer the Byers dinners stop and the kids pull away.

“Told you that’s all I’m good for,” Steve says with a mean, pained huff as he hangs up the phone. Claudia said Dustin isn’t home, but he could hear the kids in the background. It hurts more than it should.

“What is?” Robin asks from her place on the floor with her back against the wall.

“Nothing.”

She frowns. “Come on, dingus, you can’t start and then—“

“No, I mean it. Nothing. That’s what I’m good for now that I can’t drive them anymore.”

“Bullshit!” she says, and it comes out so harsh that it makes Steve flinch. He swallows. Right. Robin isn’t hear to listen to him whine about how he feels like he has no place in this town, in this group, in this life anymore now that his head is so fucked up he can’t even be trusted to live alone.

That’s why Robin is here, right?

The babysitter becomes the babysitted… or something.

She doesn’t care, not really. She doesn’t listen. She doesn’t ask.

“Steve, they’re kids.”

“Yeah, well. So am I.”

He turns away from her and ignores the tears threatening to fall. The door to his room falls shut and he would love to lock it just to make a point to the world at large, a point that it can’t shut him out if he shuts himself in, but he knows it’s too risky. If he has a seizure, Robin needs to get in.

He can’t even stay in his room alone without supervision anymore. What kind of a fuck-up is he becoming, where does it end? He’s already managed to chase away the kids, even Dustin only checks on him sporadically anymore, and it hurts. He wants to know why, wants to know what he did, how to take it back, how to get them back.

But then he remembers how it all started. Dustin needed a ride and someone to take a beating. Both of which he can’t do anymore without risking life and death of himself and others. He’s a safety hazard. He’s useless. He’s Steve fucking Harrington, which doesn’t mean anything anymore.

---

And then it’s spring, and Chrissy Cunningham is found dead in Eddie Munson’s trailer. The group is back together again, the Party assembled once more. And Steve, for a just one second, hopes that he can get it right this time, that he can do this again. One last time. Because Vecna slash Henry slash One surely is it.

But then they turn on him — even Eddie looks confused, which is a rather adorable look on him — the moment Steve tries to get a word in.

“You’re not coming with us, Steve.” That’s Dustin, and Steve just rolls his eyes, but then Robin joins in.

“Yeah, no, I’m with the gremlin on this, dingus.”

“Hey!”

“Oh shut it, Henderson.” She turns to him, her eyes softer but no less burning another hole inside Steve. “We can’t risk it, Steve.”

“Risk what?” It’s a challenge. His shoulders squared, his jaw clenched, he’s challenging her, and it’s cruel.

She holds his eyes, her expression icy, like he’s stupid. “We can’t risk you dying. We can’t risk you getting a seizure mid-fight or just by being in the Upside Down.”

“Hey, woah,” Eddie tries to get a word in, but Steve won’t hear him as the desperation, the loneliness, the feeling of being caged like a bird and still the only human left on a desolate planet, all that breaks free.

“We all know that dying in a fight is the only thing I’m good for anyway.”

The silence among their war council, as Max dubbed it, is deafening.

“What?” Lucas sounds small when he asks that, and Steve closes his eyes. He hadn’t meant for him to hear that. Any of them, actually. They weren’t supposed to know.

“Steve, that’s not true.” Dustin’s words are filled with disbelief and worry, and Steve hates the worry, it makes his skin crawl, it makes his heart race, it makes his fists clenched and it makes him want to scream again.

“What else then, huh?” he asks weakly. “What else is there? None of you even talk to me anymore since Starcourt. Since summer.”

“Because you were pulling away,” Nancy explains, though her words are weak and her mouth clicks shut when Steve looks at her.

“Because we’re scared.” Max this time, and Steve doesn’t want to look at her, doesn’t want to tell a child that she’s not allowed to be scared for him— not more than he is, anyway. It doesn’t make sense for him to be hurt. They don’t want him to die. That’s a good thing, right? They didn’t want to see him hurt, so they looked away. It makes sense.

But it also hurts.

Steve shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose before all but running from the trailer. He doesn’t make it far (“Stay close so we won’t have to worry”), just needs some fresh air and to sit down somewhere the world will become a bit less real again.

The stairs it is. He tries to breathe through the lump in his throat, clenching and unclenching his hands to get rid of the anger and the hurt and all that excess energy.

He doesn’t want to die, is the thing. The very thought makes him nauseous and panicky. He wants his life back. His car. The freedom to just jump in there and get away. He doesn’t want the cage or the worry or the hovering or the loneliness when he isolates himself from all that.

Face buried in his hands, Steve almost misses it when someone comes to sit beside him. The thick smell of leather and cigarettes tells him who it is without looking up.

Eddie doesn’t speak for a while, just sits with him as Steve calms down.

And then, after a while, he lights a cigarette and asks, “You get seizures, Harrington?”

Steve nods. “Sometimes.”

Eddie hums. “That sucks.”

He nods again, and then that’s that. But even though it was a rhetorical question and Eddie didn’t even need an answer, it feels pathetically good to be asked about something. About himself. It only makes the pit inside his chest deeper, cutting into his soul with a sharp edge, this tiny little moment of normalcy. He wants to cling to it. He wants to talk to Eddie. God, he hasn’t really talked to anyone in so long.

“Before Starcourt — remember, the mall? The fire? Yeah that was, uhm. More monster shit. And Russians who thought I was a spy and then… yeah. Anyway. Uh. We used to be friends, I think. The kids and I. They used to care — or I like to think that they did. And then I got one too many head injuries, and the seizures started, and then they… It became too much. For them, for me. And the caring stopped. And, like, it’s fine or whatever, but I still care, and I can’t let them do all that alone. I know that all I was good for was taking them somewhere with my car, but I can’t drive anymore, so now I’m just… I’m just Steve. No titles attached, no use or function or point.”

Eddie just stares at him, puzzled and intrigued and even a little sad, and Steve wants to laugh it off when the silence stretches.

“Sorry, that’s kind of a sob story, you—“

“Wait here,” Eddie says, stubbing out his cigarette before disappearing back into the trailer. Steve watches him with a confused frown but stays put. A minute later, the door flies open and a scandalised looking Max appears, followed by the rest of the crew.

“You what?!”

“Uh,” Steve blinks. “I what?”

“Eddie told us you think you’re useless and that we don’t like you and that all you were ever good for is driving us from A to B with, like, no personal value whatsoever,” Dustin fills in, sounding no less bewildered. “Is that true, Steve?”

And God, the kid is so good at making all his questions sound like dares that Steve instinctively wants to swallow and negate it, tell them that Eddie misheard, that he’s fine, that everything fine.

But then Robin’s whispered little, “Steve” stops him from doing that. In fact, the sadness and confusion on their faces makes the dams break once more, confronted with months of spiralling and no one to drag him out, no one to listen.

Tears spring to his eyes and he gets up from the stairs to properly face them. He shrugs. It’s as much of a confirmation as anything.

And then Dustin sprints forward and tackle-hugs him, burying his face in Steve’s chest with no intention to let go anytime soon.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles into Steve’s shirt and Steve runs a hand through his hair immediately.

“It’s okay, Dustin.”

“No! It’s fucking not okay, Steve, stop saying that. You’re my big brother, you’re my best friend, you’re my hero! You’re the coolest guy I know and nothing’s gonna change that, okay?”

“Then why’d you leave?” His voice is so small, but Dustin only hugs him tighter.

“Because you were hurting and I was… I feel like all of that is my fault.”

“Why would it be your fault, Dustin?”

He shrugs, and it breaks Steve’s heart. Dustin thinks everything is his fault just like Steve thinks it’s his.

“It’s me who got you into the thing with the Russians. I insisted. And you were tortured for it, Steve! You… You told us to go, and we did, and then we came back and you were— you-“

“Hey,” Steve whispers, curling himself around and over Dustin. “Hey, no, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. None of that.”

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry I pulled away, Steve,” Dustin sniffles and looks up at him. “I swear it’s not because I think you’re useless. It’s just… I’m so scared.”

And it makes sense, somehow. The anger leaves Steve when he whispers, “Me too. And I don’t like it when you’re all scared and worried. I hate it.”

“I know. Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Shut up.”

And then they’re both laughing with tears in their eyes. Lucas and Max join them with their own promises that Steve isn’t worthless to them.

“Did you read my letter? You know, the one if…”

“No,” Steve says. “You told me not to.”

“Right. Anyway, read it. Whatever happens, I want you to read it. Because you’re my brother and you mean too much for me to, like, never let you know. But, uh. Billy died. And I hated him, but it fucked me up. And then you almost died, and then you almost died again; and then you just… collapsed. And I thought, I cant do this again, not with someone I actually like. Not with you. And I didn’t wanna watch. I watched Billy. I… I can’t watch you die, Steve.”

She’s crying by the end of it, and Steve pulls her against his chest. Shit, he hadn’t meant to make anyone cry like that.

“It’s okay, Max, I get it.”

“Not okay,” she shakes her head again. “I know it’s not. But—“

“I know.” He’s stroking through her hair. “I know.”

“Uh, guys? I hate to break up the heartfelt confession time,” Eddie chimes in. “But I think our window is closing.”

Right. The end of the world.

With one last squeeze to Max’s shoulders, he lets her go and they gather their things. Discussions about Steve’s joining their mission have been put on hold while their window is still open. They can continue this later.

Nancy drives while Max holds Steve’s hand in the back. They don’t talk and she has her headphones on, letting Kate Bush work her magic, but it’s fine. It feels a bit like healing.

He catches Eddie’s eyes on the other side and holds them for a while. Eddie smiles before looking away, and Steve does the same.

---

In the end, Steve doesn't climb the rope with them. He stays behind in Eddie's trailer even though every fibre of his being screams at him to join. But Nancy has a point when she explains to him that she and Robin got this. It's the first time he stays behind, and he hopes it will be the last.

They hug him before leaving, all of them. Promises are made to talk about this later, after, and he nods.

"Go save the world for me," he tells Robin, holding her tight, unwilling to let go.

"Only for you," she promises, and kisses his cheek before pulling away. "You better be right here when we come back."

He shrugs and gives her an encouraging smile. "I've got nowhere else to be, Buckley. Now go." The last words are whispered and it feels like goodbye. Steve should join them, he should be there! But his head is pulsing and he knows that one wrong move could leave him half blind with a migraine, and they don't need one more handicap.

The one thing he can do, though, is helping them climb the rope, and it makes him feel ridiculously proud, seeing them land safely on the other side, smiling up (or down?) at him. Robin and Nancy wave one last time before heading off.

That leaves him alone with Eddie and Dustin. The latter is already climbing the rope, itching to finally do something, preparing the trailer for their plan.

Only Eddie is left, and Steve looks over at him.

"Will you be okay, Steve?"

"Sure."

Eddie sighs and looks up at the gate, disbelief and resignation and even a hint of fascination in his eyes.

"It should be you," he says, and Steve frowns, confused. "You're the hero here."

"No," Steve huffs, smiling at the metalhead. "No, I'm no hero. The real heroes are already up there, and in California. The real hero died after Starcourt. I'm just the driver who lost his license, the boy with the bat. The protector who needs to be protected."

Eddie looks at him again, that kind of intense stare, the one that shows Steve that Eddie sees something in him. He wonders what it is, but isn't sure he wants to know.

"I think you're wrong, Steve." He says it with such gentle conviction that it takes Steve's breath away for a second, and something passes between them as they hold each other's eyes.

Eddie opens his mouth to say something, but then–

"Eddie!" Dustin is calling for him from the other side, and the boys snap out of their daze.

Steve steps into Eddie's personal space and pulls him to his chest. "Make him pay," he says. "But stay safe. Come back, okay? First sign of danger, you abort mission. Come back, Eddie. I'll be right here."

"Yeah," Eddie rasps, and he squeezes Steve once more. "Catch me when I fall through that gate in two hours?"

Steve laughs, a sad little thing, and he pushes Eddie away from him, hands steady on his shoulders. "Sure, big boy."

"Hey, that's my part."

"Say it when you come back, then."

This thing passes between them again, and then Eddie goes to climb the rope. Steve's hands find their way to his hips, steadying him, but Eddie is strong enough to pull himself up without problem. Huh.

"In the meantime, wrap your head around the fact that you're the one I'm coming back for, pretty boy."

And then Eddie is gone. Steve watches as he falls through the gate, landing on the mattress with more elegance this time, and then he, too, grins down (or up?) at Steve.

He gives a little wave, and then he is alone.

Plenty of room to think when your friends have gone on a suicide mission and you're the one who has to stay behind. The one who will have to do the explaining when things go south. The one who will have to watch and listen, helpless.

It makes him regret the past few months, the self isolation, all the times he pulled back, all the times he didn't push for an explanation or a conversation, all the times he hadn't asked the kids if they're alright because he was too caught up in all the ways that he wasn't.

God, he wants them to be okay. He wants to talk about this, wants them to tell him he's more than the driver without a license, more than the protector who needs protecting. He wants Eddie to come back and explain what he meant, say what he wanted to say. He wants...

He wants his old life back. But more than that, he wants them in his new life just as much. He wants to be brave enough for this new life and find a new purpose. Create one if he can't find it.

But he can't do it alone. He refuses to do it alone even one day more.

"Come back to me," he whispers, looking up at the gate from where he's sitting on the floor, back against the wall. "Come on guys, you've got this. Please work. Please, make the plan work."

And then, miraculously, it does. Eddie falls into his arms with an undignified squeal and the rest of the Party soon follow. They're unscathed, miraculously, and Steve cries as he holds them, all of them, in a group hug that makes the trailer smell like relief and grief and a new life ahead of them. Slowly, with an unnatural sound, the gate above them closes, and then silence reigns.

They cling to him now. Refuse to let go. Good thing he has nowhere to go as Lucas gasps and sobs into his chest, explaining what happened, that Jason almost destroyed the walkman, that Max could have died. And Steve runs shaky hands through his hair, pulling in Max, too, so the three of them can just hold each other for a second.

Dustin and Eddie are hugging beside them, and Nancy and Robin hold hands, a different kind of horror in their eyes, but they smile wetly at Steve as their eyes meet.

It's over. It's done.

They did it. They really did it.

Steve closes his eyes and holds Lucas and Max tighter. They don't complain.

---

Three days later, Steve's house is brimming with life again like it hasn't in months. Turns out, Hopper survived, and he hugged Steve for a whole five minutes, telling him he did good, he did great, he's a hero. Again with that shit that Steve doesn't believe, but he doesn't have the heart to tell Hop, so he just buries deeper into their embrace.

"It's good you're alive," he tells him, and the Chief sobs out a laugh.

"You too, kid. This town would be lost without you."

"Yeah, right," Steve laughs back, and then that is that.

Except, it isn't, because when he returns to the living room with Hop, Joyce and El in tow, everyone's standing, looking at him with timid expressions. Robin and Eddie are holding hands this time, and so are all the kids. They all look like they have something to say, and the only thing missing is a large banner that says INTERVENTION.

"Uh, what's going on?"

Dustin is the first to clear his throat, but only after Erica kicks him. "We wanted to apologise. For leaving you when you needed us the most."

Oh. Steve's shaking his head, placating words already on the tip of his tongue, ready to explain to them how that's not their fault, how that was all him, he could have said something, he could have asked, he could have–

"Steve," Nancy says, effectively cutting off any protest he could have voiced. "Just listen, okay? Don't say anything."

He looks at Joyce, who nods, and Hopper who looks about as lost as he feels.

Dustin continues then. "You deserved better, Steve, you really, really did. We all did, I think, but you... You put yourself in harm's way from the get-go."

"Yeah, you came to protect me when you didn't even like me." Jonathan this time. "No thoughts, just protection. I owe my life to you. Every single one in this room does, y'know."

"And what you got for it is severe head trauma and... us abandoning you." Nancy.

"You're not just the driver, Steve. You never were just a driver to us." Hell, even Mike is in on this? "You're annoying, you suck, and you don't even try not to act like you're everyone's big brother."

"You're family, Steve." Oh, baby Byers. That's what gets his eyes stinging and his lip trembling, so he bites down on it so they won't have to see. It's futile with the way they're smiling.

"Yeah. You're so much more than our babysitter," Lucas explains. "You're the best basketball coach."

"You actually listen to my music and read comics with me," Max continues with a smile. "You suck just a little less than everyone else in this town."

"Hey!"

"No, she has a point."

Steve's not keeping up with the who's who anymore, he's trying too hard to keep it together.

"You teach me new words," El says, smiling. "You give me your clothes, you take me shopping, you teach me how to deal with meanies."

And the list goes on. Everyone has something to say to him, something beyond the ways he can be useful. Something that he is to them, something meaningful, something that sounds a lot like purpose and family.

"And we were so scared, because you were hurt. Because of us. You were protecting us, and look where it got you. You're a hero, Steve. As real as they get, you are one."

"More than Wonder Woman," Max agrees. "More than Superman. You're Steve! And that's... He’s our hero."

"He’s our brother," Dustin says.

"He’s my son," Joyce adds, taking his hand.

"He’s our friend," Erica, Mike and El say in unison.

“He’s the one we stay for.” Robin’s eyes shine as she smiles.

“And the one we come back for.” Eddie’s smile is gentle, confident, and captivating. Steve can’t look away, even through his own tears.

---

In the following months, Robin gets her license and Eddie develops a sixth sense for whenever Steve needs to just sit in a car and ride around town, watching the street lamps pass and letting them lull him to sleep. There’s an upside to being a passenger, he finds, because he falls asleep like this a few times, always waking when Eddie kills the engine. He drives for hours sometimes, admitting with a blush high on his cheeks that he didn’t want to wake Steve.

Somewhere on the highway to Indianapolis, between three and four in the morning, Steve looks at Eddie in the soft glow of the night, and finds that he’s fallen in love.

And in the weeks and months and years that follow, he realises that that’s something new he’s good at.

#stranger things #steve & the party #steddie #steddie fic #but also not really. steddie is just something that happens along the way #this was meant to be short but uh. uh. whoops?#hi anna i am sorry feel free to ignore this i could have made this easier in everyone but they’re teenagers with trauma dammit #dio words #actually i just wanted an excuse to make steve sad. if you know me you know

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thebirdsandthebats · 11 months

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Tim’s family thinks he can cook really well.

He didn’t mean for this to go so far. It had been a misunderstanding by a well-meaning Dick the last time he was in Gotham and stopped by the boat to visit. Tim had reheated some leftovers in his fridge from the night before, and Dick’s eyes lit up the moment Tim set the plates down.

“Wow, that looks amazing,” he’d commented. Tim, exhausted from a long patrol and preoccupied with dread of having to wake up early, had merely agreed. Of course Bernard’s cooking looked amazing. He was almost as big on presentation as he was on flavor.

“Yeah. Tastes even better.”

What he didn’t realize was that Dick had assumed he made the food. Which wouldn’t have been a problem if not for the fact that Dick loved to brag on his siblings. The next week, Stephanie stopped by unannounced to visit.

“I can’t believe how much you like it here. In a good way, obviously,” she’d grinned while Tim heated up some of the french onion soup that his boyfriend had made him. Tim laughed as he used a terry cloth to handle the hot bowl, placing it down in front of Steph.

He sat next to her with his own bowl. The random visits were odd. But on the bright side, the need to be a good host was kind of forcing him to eat on a more normal schedule. Two birds, one stone he guessed.

“Yeah. I like the marina a lot,” he blew lightly on his spoonful, the soup still steaming hot. “The atmosphere is so different from anywhere I’ve lived. I think being around the marina folk has been good for me—”

“Ohmygod.”

Tim looked over, startled by the outburst. Steph was staring at her soup with wide eyes. Her hand covered her mouth. Tim’s brows drew close together in confusion. “Are you okay? Did you burn your tongue?”

Steph grabbed his shoulder in a firm grip. “You’ve been holding out on us!” She accused.

“Wh—”

“You’ve been sticking to easy foods when you cook at the manor, but here you have the good stuff!” Tim frowned at her words. The realization was beginning to sink in. Did she think he made the soup? He knew how to cook, but he was nowhere near his boyfriend’s level. Bernard was literally in school to be a chef. He liked to practice his assignments at Tim’s boat, suffering through using his poor excuse for a kitchen all so he could leave Tim with the food when it was finished.

Tim opened his mouth to break the news to Steph, but their phones rang out with the high pitched drone that meant someone needed backup. Stephanie sighed. She lifted the bowl and downed all she could in a few swallows before leaping to her feet. “Job never ends, huh?” She offered Tim a hand up, and he took it without hesitation.

“Nope. Let’s suit up.”

After that night, Tim forgot to correct her. He was busy, and his family getting the wrong idea about his cooking abilities just didn’t make the top of his priority list. Bernard kept cooking when he spent nights over, and family kept dropping by on other nights, somehow never crossing paths. Tim’s neighbors seemed perplexed on how he’d gone from only ever letting his boyfriend in to having company every other night. And Tim just…couldn’t find the right moment to set the record straight.

Everything came to a head in the summer, not too long after Tim’s birthday. He was sprawled out on his couch, head resting in Bernard’s lap as the blonde’s fingers scratched lightly at his scalp. It was the lazy kind of day they didn’t often get to spend together, and Tim was feeling warm and drowsy. That was, until his phone dinged with several text notifications, and he dug it out with a grumble to see who needed him.

stop spamming the gc

Dick: it’s august .. here we go

Steph: birthday month babey!!

Duke: my wallet…

Cass: Dami, Jason, Steph, and Duke all get the bday cake in their contact names :)

Steph: Tim I know you’re lurking. for the birthday month we all want you to bring GOOD FOOD TO THE FUNCTION PLS AND TY

Damian: do not forget my dietary restrictions if you do so.

Steph: you text like you’re 84

Tim groaned and let his phone clatter to the floor. Bernard’s fingers paused in his hair. “Bad news?” He asked, concern painting his voice.

Tim shook his head and scrubbed at his face with his hands. “Not really. It’s just—um. You know how you always leave food here for me?” He tilted his head back to look Bernard in the face, and his breath caught for a moment when he saw that his boyfriend was already looking down at him.

He snickered at Tim’s expression. “Yeah? Do you need more?” He asked. Tim was baffled by the question. His fridge hadn’t been empty in ages, and even with his frequent guests, Bernard made such large portions that it took him days to finish a dish. He had more than enough.

“No, it isn’t that. My family…” he hesitated, wondering how dumb this was going to sound. But Bernard was waiting, watching him expectantly, and these days he’d started filling in the gaps himself whenever Tim’s words trailed off thoughtfully. If he didn’t finish speaking quickly, Bernard would have an entirely new problem invented.

“…um, they think I can cook.”

Bernard burst out laughing.

Tim’s face burned pink. “Wh—hey,” he complained at the reaction. “I know how to cook, why are you laughing?”

Bernard wiped the corner of his eye, giggling like a maniac. “Sorry, sorry! You said that like you were coming out to me, and also I’ve seen you sauté,” he managed, and Tim rolled his eyes at the memory. He had sautéed just fine…mostly.

When Bernard was finished laughing at him and had caught his breath again, Tim explained his situation and showed him the texts. He raised an eyebrow. “Jeez. Four August birthdays? And they expect you to cook for all of them?”

Tim sighed. “Yeah. I could just tell them they’ve got the wrong guy, but now it’s birthday month and we’ve gotta plan quick.” It was actually a very rare occurrence that they got together for every birthday in August. Their schedules were so unpredictable. But all 4 was the goal.

Bernard chewed his lip in consideration. “Okay. What if…you give me a list of each of their favorite foods and any restrictions, and I’ll make the food.” He proposed. Tim sat up, turning to face the blonde fully now.

That was way too much work for somebody already cooking for assignments. Plus, Tim didn’t want to pretend he was the one cooking anymore. He said as much to Bernard, who refused to look fazed.

“First off, I can cook 4 meals in my free time. Easy. And second off, I guess you’ll just have to bring me with you to clear up any misunderstandings,” he grinned.

Tim perked up instantly. That was…a perfect solution, actually. Everything would be cleared up, he wouldn’t have to show up without what was expected of him, and the best part, he’d get to bring Bernard with him. He’d been itching to start working his boyfriend into more of his family’s meetups because it was looking like their relationship was pretty serious. He wanted to be able to bring him to their holidays, parties, and dinners. This was a perfect opportunity to start.

He leaned in and kissed Bernard’s cheek. It would never cease to amuse him how a real kiss on the lips was nothing to his boyfriend, but Tim kissing his face always had him turning red.

“Oh.” Bernard touched his face. “You have a crush on me or something?” He teased weakly, and Tim laughed as he settled back down on the couch, his head resting in Bernard’s lap as his fingers found his hair again.

A week later, Tim showed up to the manor with Bernard following close behind, a pan of vegan chili noodles in his arms. Dick opened the door. He beamed once he saw Tim.

“Hey! C’mon, everyone is already inside, so if you brought the food you can…” he trailed off as he finally spotted Bernard behind Tim, who was fighting to keep a straight face. He blinked. “Oh, is this…?”

Bernard carefully balanced the dish in one hand and stretched out the other in greeting. “I’m the chef.” He said with barely contained glee.

The realization seemed to hit Dick all once. His mouth parted in surprise. He glanced back and forth between Tim and Bernard. Finally, he shook his head in disbelief. “You know, this actually makes…so much more sense. Sorry, Tim.”

“Wh—excuse me, what’s that supposed to mean?”

#This was meant to just be a silly post but it got away from me #I HAVENT POSTED A FICLET IN. idk. CENTURIES #ficlet #fic #dc comics #batfamily #tim drake #bernard dowd #timber #timbern #dick grayson #stephanie brown #tim drake robin #td:r

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boxfullaturtles · 4 months

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did a really basic sketchy layout of the VIP family room of the Hidden City hospital from Adagio in Green, day and night versions just to show the stuff in the room that glows, as well as where exactly the boys are in relation to each other

CJ and Splinter sleep on the couches in the back of the room by the magic window

and here's some close-ups of the boys just because

#if you know me you know i gotta visualize #meant to have this out sooner but backgrounds intimidate me lol #adagio in green fic #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #sage draws turtles

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viveela · 6 months

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The Princess has been kidnapped!

Drew this for a fic I've been tryna make for ages, it's finally seeing the light

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fluffyartbl0g · 1 year

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“Ace had his own adventures, and I have mine,” Luffy mumbles, drifting off again. “You have yours, too. I don’t want you to miss them. I don’t want you to miss anybody. Or to… be here when you’d rather be…”

“Luffy—”

“Free,” Luffy manages. “Sabo’s supposed to be free.”

@taizi put your faith in what you most believe in

#one piece #op fanart #sabo #monkey d. luffy #op brook #(kinda)#man im just reccing fanfics left and right recently #and by that i mean one in the post before this and one in the post now #im being 100 percent serious when i say that whenever i read this fic i start either tearing up or full on sobbing #luffy was so miserable when he found out how much sabo hated being confined as a noble #sabo hated that life so much that he tried to escape #sabo’s meant to be free…#luffy would absolutely hate if he was ever responsible for taking away that freedom #but luffy… you ARE freedom…#how could he ever be trapped when with you?#(me: is starting to tear up again)

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kyriathanatos · 10 months

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I can’t stop thinking of a moment from my disco playthrough. A confirmed bug in the dialogue, and yet it meant so much to me…

that morning I had decided I was going to belt out my soul in karoke that night, and through the events of the day, I ended up having to send Kim away that night with the body from the fridge. So, after he was gone, I dressed like a man possessed by a gay theatre troupe and let out the perfect rendition of the saddest song in the whole world. “The smallest church in saint saëns” And I dedicated it to my partner, “Kim Kitsuragi, who isn’t here right now”

Later on, at the end of the story, as my previous partner grilled me on the case, Kim remarked that I sung very well that night… much to his own dismay

And I can’t stop thinking about that. Maybe he hadn’t left yet. Maybe he was having his nightly smoke by his kineema before he left with the body. Maybe he heard the music kick on as he was leaving, and watched from the door. Or from the window,

But he listened. He heard my song. He decided to stop and hear it. He listened to Harry belt out his soul. And that really sticks with me, bug or not.

#disco elysium #kim kitsuragi #harry du bois #I kind of want to write a fic about it from Kim’s perspective #making sure he stayed to hear since he’d heard earlier in the morning that I was going to sing #I dunno it’s just a small thing that meant a lot to me

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momokodaisy · 21 days

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Extremely Late Umbrella Academy Textposts That Have Definitely Been Done Before (13/?) prev

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finntheehumaneater · 5 months

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⭐️Radio Star⭐️ part 1

(Part two)

“I just don’t understand why I’m so nervous!” Robin was rambling, one of her hands flitting around her space in the passenger seat, the other gripping onto Steve’s arm as he tried to focus on driving through the swimming colors and shapes. It hurt, but he wasn’t going to complain. “I’ve been on dates with her before, it’s not like this is any different!”

Steve squinted at the road slightly, trying to stay on the right side of the yellow lines. His vision was more blurry than normal, but it was fine. If he focused, they wouldn’t crash, and he would fine. He glanced over at her and tired to raise an eyebrow—and failed—which got a choked out laugh out of her. His eyes went back to the road. “I mean…it is your third date…”

He glanced over at Robin again as she squeezed his arm tighter, and through the cloudy-haze in front of him, he could still see the disappointment in her face. “Steve.”

“I’m just saying—,” He started, but she slapped him on the arm lightly and then grabbed onto it again.

“Ew, Steve, no no no. EW,” she said, moving her hands to press them against her face, looking like she wanted to claw her eyeballs out of their sockets, and she might have if Steve hadn’t reached over and gently moved them.

“I’m joking, Robs. You’ll be fine. Relax.” He was trying to sound cool and collected—calm, like he was supposed to be—but Robin could probably see the way that he was squinting, and the way that his voice was a bit strained as he tried to focus. She dropped her hand from his arm, but she had been holding on so hard that it still felt like it was there.

“But what if I start talking about…you know…that. And she gets weirded out and leaves?” Her voice was softer now, but still anxious.

“About—?”

“Don’t say it!” She cut in. “I don’t want to think about it.”

Steve sighed. He knew what she meant. He didn’t like thinking about it either, but still. It had to be talked about eventually, right? Come to think of it, they hadn’t really discussed it since they had gotten out. It was traumatic, and honestly? It felt kind of weird that they had stayed in contact afterwards—and that they had gotten this close, because he could still see that version of Robin sometimes when he looked at her. The one where she made herself smaller and her eyes got wide, and she stopped talking completely. She didn’t do that when she was anxious, she did it when she was scared. “I’ll help you then, alright? Make sure you don’t let slip about….you know.”

He deepened his voice at the end, trying to sound ominous, but voices were never his thing. Still, he heard Robin giggle slightly before she sighed, too. “Okay. Good. I just don’t want her to think that I’m weird for not being over this already. It happened two years ago, Steve.”

“I’m aware of how much time has passed, yes, but—some things are hard to get over. Especially what we’ve been through, okay? You’re not broken or anything for being mad at yourself over this. I am too. And it’s something we’re working on. Right?” He gave her a quick pointed look, and the car swerved slightly, so he looked back. Shit.

“I know, I know. But we’re also working on other things.” She muttered, poking him in the arm, which made him wince. He was going to have a bruise from all this.

“Sorry, Bobby, I have a reputation to uphold—“

“Does that reputation involve crashing the car and killing us?”

He went silent at that. She had a point…

He could practically hear Robin smiling, even though he wasn’t looking at her—because for now he had decided to keep his eye solely on the road—when she said, “We’ll talk more about this after my date. Agreed?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

They were supposed to meet up with Vickie at this little coffee shop near the record store that Robin’s friend Chrissy worked at. It was little, with a lot of plants everywhere that were dying slightly in the October breeze, and a chubby black cat curled up on one of the tables. So of course that’s the one where Robin chose to sit, even though she knew Steve was allergic.

“Seriously?” Steve whined, giving her fake pout, because now he would be banished to some other table and have to sit alone.

“Sorry, Steven, but he’s just a baby,” Robin stated simply, shrugging and smoothing her hand over the cat’s fur, as if that made up for all of this. The cat lifted its head up and mewed, pushing its face into Robin’s hand, who giggled and kept petting it.

Steve huffed and sat down at the table next to her, sitting at the far chair. He didn’t want to be coughing and all red while Robin was on a date, because that would be embarrassing. People already thought that he was weird enough for accompanying his best friend on her dates—purposefully putting himself in the role of the awkward-third-wheel—but in truth? Robin was nervous and flighty, and if it were up to her, she would just leave the second things got slightly awkward, even if it didn’t mean the date was over yet.

That’s why Vickie was perfect for her, because she also never stopped talking, just like Robin, who was now cooing and murmuring to the cat, its little face squished between her palms as she kissed all over it, just to cough and spit out cat hair. Yeah, Steve wasn’t going to let her touch him until she had washed her hands. Thoroughly, at that.

She looked over at him and grinned her hand fidgeting in the air slightly. “Steve, look.”

“I’m looking, Robs. It’s a cat.”

She gasped and covered the cat’s ears with her hands, kissing him on the nose again. “He is not just a cat, Stefan, he is a baby.”

“You do realize that ‘Steve’ isn’t short for anything, right? It’s just Steve,” He muttered, rolling his eyes and shrinking down slightly on his chair. It was a nice looking chair—kind of a soft, light green, with an out-of-date looking floral print. Little pink flowers. He liked little pink flowers, they were cool.

Standing up, and ignoring Robin as she was still talking to the cat and not him—“Where’s Stevie going, hm? Is he leaving? Where’s he going, baby? He’s abandoning us, you poor thing…”—he went up to the counter to get himself a drink. It was going to be a long day for him, with effectively two Robin’s babbling around him all afternoon.

There was no-one behind the counter, so he waited there for a moment, looking around. The only other person here was a guy sitting in the corner with his head down, a book out in front of him, occasionally glancing over at Robin and the cat with a small smile on his face. It was a wonder Steve hadn’t noticed him before, and honestly, he was kind of happy that he hadn’t, because now he was just standing there and staring like an idiot. His hair was long and brown, curly, but not natural curly—like he had gotten a perm or something—and he had tattoos on his arms. Maybe more that Steve couldn’t see—which, no, he was not going to think about that, fuck, his face is so red now—

After a few more seconds of gawking, the guy's head snapped up and his eyes widened. “Shit—,” he rushed out, scrambling up and over to Steve, who stepped out of his way as he scrambled over the counter and nearly tripped as he stood up fully, his hair falling into his eyes. He didn’t look like he worked there—wearing a Metallica t-shirt (Steve had no idea what that was. A band, by the looks of it) and ripped black jeans, with a shit ton of chains and rings all over him. He looked a bit out of breath, but just cleared his throat and leaned on his elbows on the counter, smiling. “What do you want?”

“Oh, uh…I…a coffe?” Steve stuttered out, still a bit shocked and lost for words as to what the fuck just happened.

The guy tilted his head and his smile got a bit wider. “Okay. What kind of coffee?”

“I—no, I don’t like coffee. Do you have, like…Hot Chocolate or something?” Why had he asked for coffee? Robin had coffee every morning (except today because he wouldn’t let her. She didn’t need more sugar since she was probably going to drink some here, with Vickie) not him. Fuck.

“You don’t like coffee? Are you sure? I think it tastes fine,” The guy said, shrugging and tugging on one of his curls like he was trying to hide behind it.

“Well, that’s good for you.” Steve said, giving him a small smile. The guy looked at him for a few more seconds, just enough time for Steve’s face to get even more red, before straightening up with a nervous laugh and going to make his drink.

It took him a while, because he kept fumbling with the cup and dropping things, tripping over his feet, while quietly singing under his breath and drumming on the counter with his fingers. This guy was a mess. But it was kind of cute. Wait, no, it wasn’t. Why would Steve think that? That was weird. It wasn’t cute, he was cute. No, that’s even worse.

Eventually, the guy spun around, looking Steve over with a stupid—yet sort of endearing?—grin on his face. “Name?”

Steve just stood there. “Hm?”

“For the order. I need your name, sweetheart.”

And if that didn’t just make Steve want to run out of there and back into his car. But, alas, he couldn’t leave Robin alone or she might try to steal the cat she was still messing with. “I’m like—the only person here?”

The guy shrugged, spinning around a bit, his hands messing with the hem of his shirt as he faced Steve once again. “Still. Need to professional.”

Steve was pretty sure nothing this guy had done had been professional, but whatever. “Steve? Steve Harrington.”

“Aw, cute name. Okay—“ He rushed off to get the drink, but instead of just handing it to Steve, he walked over to the pick-up counter and pretended to look around the room. “Order for Steve?”

Steve laughed slightly, but it was more of a confused laugh than a happy one. He walked over and went to take the drink, but the guy pulled it to his chest, squinting at him, trying to be serious—although there was a small smile at the corner of his mouth. “Are you Steve?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

Steve froze, his expression faltering slightly as he cleared his throat. That poked a sore spot that he didn’t like to think about. “Yeah,” He said quietly, looking away for a moment and clearing his throat. “I’m sure.” He knew that the guy was just messing around, but he couldn’t help it.

The guy handed him the drink and looked Steve over, his smile dropping slightly. “Sorry about that. I know I can be a bit much sometimes, so if I said something to offend you just know that I totally do not think before I talk. Ever. And it was an accident. Sorry.”

“It’s okay!” Steve said quickly, his face flushing as he looked down to where the guy had written ‘Steve :)’ on the side of the cup, and had checked off all of the boxes just to check them off, even if the things didn’t apply to the Hot Chocolate. “I’m just kind of tired today, sorry.”

He was lying, and the guy probably knew. But he didn’t say anything. Steve really wished people would stop doing that to him—knowing that there was a problem but not pushing to know what it was, because he just needed someone to force him to talk about everything that had happened, or he was going to melt into a pile of bloody goop. Then again, this poor guy probably didn’t want to hear some stranger rant about his unfortunate and traumatic life. He was a barista, not a therapist. And Steve refused to see a therapist. For personal reasons that Robin despised (even though she didn’t want to see one, either).

“I’m Eddie.” The guy—Eddie, that’s a nice name—offered, shrugging slightly and messing with the thick silver rings on his fingers. Steve tried not to stare at his hands so much. They looked nice. Fuck, Steve, normal thoughts, think normal thoughts—, he chided himself internally, shaking his head slightly, which made Eddie give him a confused look.

“I like that name. Eddie, it’s, uh, it’s nice.” Eddie nodded and his smile came back in full force as he bounced slightly on his feet. “Thanks! You go enjoy your drink, I’ll be okay over here all by my lonesome.”

“Cool.” Steve said quietly, and then punched himself inside for that. Which technically could have killed him, because the doctor said if got any more blunt-force trauma, he was likely to not survive, but right at this moment, he really wanted to shrivel up and rot in the corner.

He walked back and sat down. Fuck. This really was going to be a long day.

——

Pinterest board!

this wasn’t supposed to be all of part one, but I need to post something now just so that I can’t back out later and get in my head about all of this.

If you want to be tagged, comment and let me know, and if you have any questions or comments, feel free to send me an ask or tag me in a post, because I like getting asks :) (and if you want to be removed from the taglist at any point in the future, just DM me and lmk)

you can also follow the tag ‘Radio Star by Finn’ (or you could just follow me) if you don’t like being tagged in things.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED, AND IF YOU SEE A SPELLING MISTAKE OR SOMETHING NO YOU DIDN’T. I DON’T HAVE A BETA READER FOR THIS I JUST WRITE AND POST. THANKS. BYE.

Taglist:

@an-atlas-or-other (because I wrote this since you said I should post it before.)

@strangersteddierthings (because I showed you a snippet of it for the WIP Wednesday thing. If you want to be taken off the taglist lmk, but I thought you might like to see the full bit)

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sleepy-hyperfixations · 2 months

Text

Im a top ice truther unfortunately

#icemav #top gun #top gun 1986 #tom iceman kazansky #pete maverick mitchell #all icemav is good icemav #For the record i will read any fic that has my interest #top ice just speaks to me #Also this isn't meant to insult or offend anyone pls its a joke #I just need ppl to know where my loyalties lie

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chocoenvy · 2 years

Note

ok but like

imagine a sagau au where the reader isn't recognized by the acolytes

but they aren't being hunted down by them either

and in this au looking like the creator isn't a sin it just warrants a "damn must be truly blessed by the creator to be blessed with their face"

and the reader just kinda wants to see how long it takes for everyone to realize

also venti is the first to know and the reader literally begs him not to tell anyone

and they both just kinda

vibe as gods in disguise

Say My Name

In where you begin your journey in a fairly dull way, but that doesn't make it any less exciting.

Part two

Characters: Barbara, Noelle, Venti

Notes: Once again, I have made Venti a prominent character in a fic. I have grown far too attatched to him :( AND I WANTED TO MAKE THIS MORE ABOUT NOELLE BUT I DIDN'T HAVE ENOUGH ROOM BECAUSE VENTI'S FAT ASS TOOK UP ALL OF IT. And I didn't want to shove something in at the end, I thought it was a good stopping point so I didn't stretch the fic on longer than it needed to go. Anyways this was fun to write either way :)

warnings: fluff, cult behaviors, comical

Considering how extravagant and lively Teyvat is, your arrival was fairly dull.

You were freaking out of course, your heart beating out of your chest and breathing erratic. What were you supposed to do when you wake up in your favorite game? What was the right course of action?

Frankly, you thought you were dead or about to die. Teyvat is crawling with high level monsters. Maybe this was all a big fever dream?

You sighed, clutching your head, so many thoughts whirling around and yet none of them stayed long enough for you to get a good grasp of the situation or the best course of action.

But one thought remained consistent as your eyes drifted over to the path laid out before you. Mondstadt.

The moment you lay your eyes on the bridge leading to the Mondstadt gates you can't help yourself, running past Timmie's birds, shouting out a quick sorry to him, and sprinting as fast as you could to the gates. You slowed as you neared them and Lawrence - the gate guard - stopped you in your tracks.

"Greetings strange but respectable traveler!" He saluted, his eyes wide staring at you and you assumed it's because of the odd way you dressed, "May I ask what business you have in Mondstadt?"

"Oh! Just visiting." You grinned, feeling a tad bit dizzy at hearing his voice right in front of you and not just through your headphones. Not to mention the fact that his hair looked so real and nice.

He hummed and nodded, "Alright then, just don't cause any trouble." He waved you off.

That was easy... you mused. Though you didn't dwell on it and marveled at the wonderous city adorned with the high-noon sun and pretty flowers.

You could hear the humming of bards and birds, the sound of Flora selling her flowers, and of course Donna simping over Diluc.

It was all so familiar, from the people to the music and the tiles on the floor, it all felt like the beginning of your journey. Almost like home, you couldn't help but hum along to the merry music.

You passed by Katheryne and she waved at you knowingly but didn't say anything. You decided not to question her about it - Katheryne knew a lot of things anyways so you decided this was pretty in-character for her - and you waved back with a grin.

You wandered meaninglessly through the calming streets, still humming the tune. You came upon the fountain in the plaza and paused. Usually, you'd climb up the wall to get past but now you had to actually walk.

You chuckled, you weren't sure why but this was such a nice feeling and you sprinted to the left until you came upon a set of stairs. You climbed up them and made your way to Venti's large statue.

When you made it, you craned your neck up to take it all in, an awed smile on your face.

"Ah, are you a newcomer?" A nearby nun asked you, snapping you out of your dazed state.

"Oh! Uh- yeah I am!" You grinned sheepishly.

The nun hummed, smiling warmly, "You must be truly blessed to look so similar to our creator. You can go into the cathedral if you want to see our offerings to them." She nodded towards said building, "Hope you enjoy your stay in Mondstadt!" She waved, now even allowing you to get a word out before moving along.

You stared after her for a minute before whispering to yourself, "What the fuck-"

You turned back around and stared cautiously at the cathedral. What did she mean by creator? Stuff like this has never been mentioned in the lore before...

You'd been in the cathedral maybe a hundred times and had never seen anything that could be attributed to some... creator or whatever she meant by that.

So, naturally, you had to go and investigate.

The moment you entered those cathedral doors (with no loading screen separating the two anymore), your eyes immediately caught onto the shrine built on top of the rotating door. Two pairs of stairs leading up to it.

You gaped at the shrine, grand and well-kept, but what caught even more of your attention was the sheer amount of offerings left out at the base below the shrine. There was so much food and random shiny objects, some of which looked more than what you were worth.

Your jaw hang open at the sight, and you noticed you started to get some odd stares. You fixed your face and donned a more neutral expression, looking on at the shrine curiously.

"Ah, first time in Mondstadt's cathedral?" said a soft and familiar voice.

You whipped your head around to face Barbara, her sparkling eyes fixed onto you.

You composed yourself - both at the scene in front of you and the fact you just met Barbara face-to-face - "Yeah, it is."

"You look so much like our beloved creator!" She exclaimed, "It must be such an honor to be blessed with their lovely face!"

"U-uhm..." You stuttered, sending her an awkward smile, "I suppose so."

Her eyes shifted and you felt a jolt of unease in your chest, sinking into your heart, "Sorry, I'm just not used to Mondstadt's customs. We practice things quite differently where I'm from."

"Oh! Sorry then," Barbara frowned, "I didn't mean any disrespect, I just wanted to make sure you weren't disrespecting our creator in any ways. I suppose in the end it didn't do any good."

You hummed non-committedly and gazed back upon the shrine. There was a statue of the supposed creator upon there and unconsciously you took steps towards it. As you gazed up at it, it was as though you were looking into a mirror.

The statue was an exact replica of you, in every way shape and form it was you.

"It truly is remarkable how alike you two are," Barbara smiled up at the statue, pure devotion in her eyes, "It was an honor to look upon you and see an image that so wonderously reflects our creator's." She smiled at you.

You nodded and she left with a wave. A few moments later you left the church.

The problems in this perfect world arose when your stomach started to growl and you realized...

You had no mora.

"Goddamnit I'm having a Zhongli moment," You cursed the gods (specifically Venti and Zhongli) for not giving you mora when you arrived to Teyvat.

Although you didn't have to worry about that for long, oddly enough. When you were eyeing Good Hunters, a kind little lady approached you.

"E-excuse me," Her cute voice cracked and your eyes met with Noelle's, "Are you hungry? I could um-" Her eyes diverted away from yours but always seemed to come back to stare into your eyes, "I could make you something if you so wish."

You gasped, your face lighting up in a smile that reddened Noelle's cheeks, "Really? Oh! I'd love to try some of your Tea Break Pancakes- oh! Ah, nevermind. You don't have to." You waved her offer off, "I don't even have any mora on me."

"That's fine." She grinned, "Consider it... a gift to our creator. A celebration of how much you look like them."

"Ah," You couldn't help the surprised smile that tugged up at the corners of your lips, "That's- I mean I appreciate it but I'm sure there's much better uses you could use with your time-"

"Nonsense! I insist," Her resolve was as sturdy as the sword you'd given her, "A little treat of mine."

"I-" Your stomach interrupted any argument you were going to make, "Fine..." You sighed, "But I owe you okay? If you ever need anything just ask me."

She agreed and made you the meal, which you excitedly watched her make. It was so surreal watching Noelle make the pancakes instead of just pressing a couple buttons.

Even still she made those pancakes in record time, you were impressed.

"Thank you so much Noelle! Really, you're carrying Mondstadt on your shoulders." You giggled.

Her face flushed a bright red and she waved her hands dismissively, "Oh no no no, I don't do that much. I'm... not even a knight yet." She frowned.

"Well," You said in-between bites, "You do as much if not more than the knights do. Don't put yourself down just 'cause you're not official yet."

Your smile, a replica of the ones on the statue but brighter and more personal caused Noelle to feel nearly dizzy.

"You're far too kind... Oh! Dear, where are my manners?" She huffed, "What's your name?"

"Oh! It's (Name)." You held out your hand but she didn't take it immediately.

She tilted her head, her eyes narrowed in confusion, "Isn't that... the creator's name? Did your parents name you that?"

Your mind blanked. Why the hell does this creator person have my face and my name?

You chuckled, "They did."

Noelle hummed and nodded along, "It's a bit unusual but not like it's against the law or anything," She shrugged and took your hand, "It's nice to meet you (name). I'm Noelle, though it seems you already knew that..?"

You nodded, "Yeah, I've heard of you. You're the best maid in Mondstadt. Who knows, maybe the best maid in all of Teyvat." You chuckled as her face bloomed into color once more.

"Truly, you flatter me too much," She fanned her face in an attempt to get rid of the heat, "...have you really heard of me outside of Mondstadt."

Without hesitation, you nodded while biting into the pancake, "Of course!" You technically weren't lying. You'd heard of her outside of Mondstadt... and outside of Teyvat... in your world. So it was technically true.

She covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes lit up in wonder, and a soft giggle escaped her throat, "Aha, I'm so happy..."

Without thinking, you reached over and patted her head. She had stars in her eyes. "I'm glad," You said, "You deserve it."

You and Noelle had talked throughout the entire day. She had often went to go and help people and you tried your best to help her as well. Finding stray cats, helping children find lost items or getting them down from high places, collecting and delivering items for people.

You did your best to nudge Noelle away from accepting every little thing that came her way, but majority of the time she'd end up helping the person. So you settled for helping lessen her load by helping her complete the tasks instead.

When night time finally rolled around Noelle finally bid you good night and you were hesitant to leave her because...

You had nowhere to stay.

The dark Mondstadt streets, only lit up by the few streetlights still lit by candles and night owls still awake inside their houses creeped you out.

Where would you stay? You couldn't stay outside for too long, it was freezing and you only had the clothes on your back.

Maybe you could sneak into Angel's Share and sleep in the rafters? That way you'd stay warm and they were open 24/7 you believed.

Maybe you should just tell someone you got transported here from another world. That's what the Traveler did and now they're a renowned hero with a teapot to live in...

Teapot... Teapot! If you could find the Teapot...

"Shit! Where did I last set it down..." You scrounged through your memory, praying it wasn't in the inventory. You had no clue how to access that or if you even could access it.

You recalled... teleporting to Windrise to grab some crystalflies and heal up... and opening up your teapot. That's where it is then. Or at least you hoped.

Even if it wasn't there, sleeping in the big Windrise tree didn't sound like a bad idea. So long as you didn't freeze to death.

With that in mind you set out to begin your walk to Windrise, sending a wave to Katheryne as you left. She wished you good luck which made your heart swell. Her eyes always seemed to know too much... but in this case it was quite comforting.

You also waved goodbye to the guards outside Mondstadt's gate, and they saluted with kind smiles.

You hummed, tiredly making your way across the bridge once more. What a lovely day in Mondstadt, you mused to yourself, humming the quiet nighttime tune.

Your legs were jelly by the time you made it to Windrise, silently thanking the gods that you weren't attacked on the way there. Tiredly, you looked around the statue and the tree for any sign of your teapot and...

nothing. Absolutely nothing.

With a groan, you sat down at the base of the statue, burying your head in your hands, too tired to hold your head up on your own.

You just needed to shut your eyes for a moment...

You blinked your eyes open as the sun glared at you. Squinting up, you noticed you were now laying at the base of the statue.

You paused as a melody filled your ears, close by and unfamiliar. You turned your head to see a bard - your bard - playing the lyre and humming a tune.

"Ah, you're finally awake." He grinned, "What were you doing sleeping outside by the statue?"

You groggily sat up, "Venti?" You groaned, "I was just... traveling and ended up falling asleep."

He hummed, "You know my name?"

Goddamnit-

You nodded, "Yes, you're quite the famous bard aren't you?" The excuse flew naturally off your tongue, it wasn't necessarily a lie either.

Venti giggled, his fingers idly plucking a tune, "Quite the charmer aren't you? Though, can't say you're entirely incorrect. I am the best bard in the world! Most famous though? I can't really say." He leaned in, his face nearly touching yours, "So, how do you know me hm? You just arrived to Mondstadt yesterday after all and I don't believe you ever caught my name or even saw me."

"...You were watching me?" You questioned, your eyes narrowed.

Venti faked an offended gasp, "You make me sound like a criminal! I was merely observing my surroundings. I saw you, an odd looking traveler, and had to observe you for a bit of time. Can't blame me for being a little curious." His grin was sly and it made you roll your eyes.

"Still a bit creepy if you ask me, especially for an apparently not-so-famous bard." You challenged him, your eyes sharp as they dug into him.

He shrugged, "I gotta watch over Mondstadt. I love the city with my life, you know. Now answer the question, how do you know me?" His eyes were so playful for such a scathing question.

You hummed, surprisingly calm given how wrong this could go, "How do you think I know you, bard?"

He giggled, "Asking me the questions now are you?" His fingers switched up and started playing a much more familiar tune. One he shouldn't know, "Perhaps you've been watching me for a long time now. And whenever I saw your eyes I just knew they were the same ones that had been watching me for countless months. Hm?"

Your eyes shot open, "How do you know that song?"

"I know every song," His teal eyes sparkled with mischief and glee, "Past present and future."

Your jaw slackened, but you couldn't help the grin that tugged at your lips.

"I suppose I wasn't aware of just how far your knowledge reached, O' Anemo Archon." You snickered, and jokingly bowed.

Venti giggled, his fingers stopping his playing so he could mockingly bow back, "And I suppose I wasn't aware of how stubborn you are, O' Great Creator."

"What?" Your playful nature halted in its tracks as you stared at Venti, dumbfounded.

He blinked, confused, "Huh?"

You shook your disbelief away with a shake of your head and a laugh, "Did you just call me Teyvat's God?" You chuckled, "Then should I call you your friend's name?"

A flash of hurt took over his eyes, he whined, "Huh? What do they have to do with this, your grace?"

"What?" Dread crawled into the back of your throat, "Cut it out Venti, don't joke like that."

"But I'm not joking, your grace. Did you- did you not know?" His eyes were wide and glassy, "I'm sorry..."

You blinked owlishly, "Wha- you're serious? I thought- I thought I just looked like them!"

"I thought that was your intention!" Venti cried, "I thought this was like- a test of loyalty or something!"

"No! What? Am I actually-" You couldn't force the words out as you stared Venti in the eyes, stunned.

"Y-yes!" He shouted, "You're the creator! I can sense it! So can the slimes and animals. Don't you see?" He pointed to the nearby birds, their gaze turned towards you, "They like you! The monsters don't attack you and this statue calls out to you! Don't you feel its warmth? It's probably why you didn't freeze last night."

You were silent as the information processed, "So- so wait!" You turned your body fully facing Venti, "That shrine in the cathedral... was for me?" You asked, bewildered.

He nodded, "Yeah! Did- did you really not know?"

Immediately you were wildly shaking your head, "No! I just- I dunno! I thought I was like the traveler or something that just got dropped off here one day."

"The traveler came here of their own free will, (Name)!" Venti sighed, "I just- You look exactly like them too!"

"Listen! Denial is a powerful think, okay!" You huffed.

"Fine, I get it." He rested his head on his hands, his eyes meeting yours, "So... are you gonna tell the others?"

"... Dunno." You shrugged, "What would happen if I did?"

"Well..." Venti tapped his finger against his face and used his other hand to hold up his pointer finger, "Zhongli would go batshit. He's got a whole log up his ass when it comes to you and how to 'properly worship you' bleh." Venti stuck his tongue out, "Then there's Baal, she'll probably also go insane over you. She's like a lost puppy." He held up a third finger, "Then there's Jean and the knights. I think they'd be... alright. If you told them they'd try and throw huge festivals for you and worship you. Oh, and the church would triple their worshipping for you, obviously."

You roughly sighed, "So... I won't be treated as a human is what you're saying."

"I mean- well- yeah." He frowned, "Don't worry, I get it if you don't wanna do a whole grand reveal. It's stressful. Too much work, y'know?"

You hummed in agreement, "The thing is..." You frowned, "We don't have any mora."

Venti scoffed, straightening his back with a proud grin, "Speak for yourself! I have a mora."

You snorted, "A mora."

"Hey, better than what you're doing," He took off his hat, "It's right in here-"

You both stared at the hat that was almost as empty as your souls.

"Okay well," Venti put his hat back on, "Nothing a little begging can't do. Not like I haven't played music for money before."

You stared at the ground hopelessly, "...so... how do you think Ningguang would react to me telling her I'm the creator?"

Venti snorted, "I like the way you think but... she'd be grand. I think she'd make you live in the Jade Chamber and give you every little thing you could ever want. She can keep a secret though I'll bet."

You hummed and stared at Venti, living a life as free as a bird. Even with the status of the Anemo Archon, he was as free as his people, and just as happy as them as well.

"Not really the life I wanna live... what about Childe?"

Venti shuddered, "I love you (Name), but no. He makes... quite a spectacle of things. And, well," Venti frowned, "He'd probably leave a few corpses at your doorstep."

"Ah," You grimaced, "Okay so... we're fucked."

"Ah ah ah," Venti waggled his finger comically, "Don't you remember what I said? I can sing for money, and I'm sure with you, the creator's look-alike right by my side helping me with my performance, we'd make double the money! I mean," His eyes were alight with mischievous glee, an expression on him you were coming to dread, "That Noelle girl yesterday had no problem giving you a free meal just cause you look like the creator! So I'm sure we'll pull in lots of cash!"

You frowned and then a lightbulb went off in your head, "Wait a minute," Venti raised a brow, intrigued, "If I'm the supposed creator or god of this world... then those offerings at the altars and shrines are meant for me... right?"

Venti nodded with a tilt of his head, "Yes? ...Oh... Oh!" His eyes lit up like Christmas lights, "You mean-?"

You grinned, "So that means that if I were to... let's say... take the items and sell them, it wouldn't be wrong right?"

Venti tilted his head back and laughed, "No, I suppose it wouldn't be, your grace."

Your grin was damn near evil, "Then I suppose we have our plan then."

Venti nodded, "I suppose we do!" He hopped up and grabbed your hand to help you up as well, "Though I think my singing idea was pretty good." He kicked his legs up like a child as you both made your way back to Mondstadt, "Who knows, I might even become the most famous bard in all of Teyvat with you by my side!"

You hummed, smiling fondly at the silly bard at your side, "Perhaps."

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mishy-mashy · 2 months

Text

Bruce is actually really attractive, and I have enough reasoning to make a list

He's:

Tall (. Tall enough to hit his head on the vault doorframe)

Long-legged

Has a straight nose bridge

Has high cheekbones (more noticeable in 2nd pic below)

Has a strong jawline

Sharp eyes, but they aren't small (plus eyebags if you're into that)

Overall, he has strong, attractive facial features

Has broad, refined shoulders. You can tell he works out (or he did, when he was alive)

Even has a thick, muscly neck

He has MUSCLE. Is SCULPTED. NOICE. VERY NOICE. (nice arms. Nice shoulders. Nice neck. Nice legs. Nice butt-)

(There are actually panels where you can see some of his muscles. Other than those already shown here, he's got bricky thighs-

-and in the panels where we first get his name dropped, he's got those shoulder blades too-)

The one time we see him smile, and he actually has a scary one

Has small, kinda sharp pupils, and his eyes remind me of a cat. We only ever saw him tense or defensive, so his resting/listening face is really cute

Other than the physical appearance stuff, he also:

Takes shit without batting an eye (patience, knowing it's just how Kudo is, etc)

Kudo being all "Cut the crap Bruce and give it to me straight", after Bruce tests his blood and is rightfully Concerned because they just faced AFO

Put up with Kudo's experimenting and testing over Yoichi's transferable Factor

Did ya'll see the look on Kudo's face when he realized he had Yoichi's Factor/will? Kudo was going to start in nonsense and Bruce just dealt with that.

Also something I noticed when looking back at the images here; Bruce has bandages on his arms in the void. But not when he faced AFO in the sewers.

Were he and Kudo cutting their arms open in their experimenting over Yoichi's theory? Is this why Kudo has two gauntlets instead of his one? Why we never see his bare arms in the void? That he always keeps his arms down so there's no slip?

Is smart enough to run blood tests, plus has enough common sense to pick Shinomori as his successor

He picked a guy who avoids society, has an Ability to detect danger so he can always stay away from AFO, is also a coward so he's never going to go throw himself into danger, even without knowing instinctively he stands no chance, etc.

Meanwhile, Kudo chose Bruce, who he played Hot Potato Yoichi with; but he did also trust Bruce, and put the only pure combative Ability in OFA through Bruce.

These two made their choices based on what they valued and saw the Factor needed.

Is logical, analytical, and calm.

He tried advising Midoriya on their Abilities in One For All, especially his own.

Midoriya then tried ignoring him about using Fa Jin for the first time, but found he was right, thinking: "Dammit!! I had [Lady Nagant] right where I wanted her, but... ugh! The Third was right. My parallel Quirk processes are all screwed up!" (ch. 314).

Plus, when Midoriya fixed his processing mistakes, Bruce was analyzing the way he reached his new conclusion. Pure facts, no bias, very calm, just saying it as it was.

We never see him panic. When he's caught by surprise in the sewers by AFO, Kudo, and Yoichi's little bubble event, he immediately reacts. He doesn't falter, he just knows he has to do something right now.

Was more willing to listen than Kudo to Yoichi's beckon, and probably was just following Kudo's rejection of Midoriya

While we don't see Kudo's face, we see Bruce's eyes when Yoichi calls on his heroes. Bruce was more open and receptive, or at least more impacted.

Bruce was also the one to start talking, while Kudo just kept quiet.

He actually communicates a lot

When Yoichi called them to support Midoriya, Bruce started talking to paint a picture of why they thought the way they did, so Yoichi understood where they were coming from.

(Though he seems to beat about the bush sometimes, since Kudo spoke up to be direct on how they couldn't just put their trust in some starry-eyed teenager. Plus, when Kudo tells him to just tell him what's wrong [double Factors])

When Midoriya first used Fa Jin against Nagant, Bruce came out just to tell him he knew what he was trying, but that Midoriya wasn't ready; and Midoriya found he was right. Midoriya just didn't want to listen to him then.

He asks Kudo for clarification after finding Kudo had two Factors in him after the sewer incident ("Just to be sure, All For One didn't touch you, right?") Kudo knew him well enough to go "stop beating around the bush and tell me", so Bruce was probably gonna start with questions, theories, and trying to understand everything in general, before saying "yeah you have two Factors. Don't know why".

Is strong-willed and loyal.

He followed Kudo, even to death, carrying on the cause he started until it ended with him.

Plus, when talking about how AFO needs a strong will to override OFA's own, we first see Bruce, Kudo, and Yoichi.

AFO couldn't steal OFA because the will was too strong for him, and that was back during Banjo's time. Since Shinomori never actually tried opposing AFO and just hid, we can assume the first Three (Yoichi, Kudo, Bruce) already had an accumulation of strong willpower that made OFA un-stealable. Those three are a strong enough foundation, and the main wills, that the other users just become bonuses.

Kudo, also saying that Midoriya needs allies with the same will and drive as him... hey Kudo, you're talking about yourself and your old allies, aren't you? That's why you look at Yoichi and Bruce when you say this.

Not only is Bruce attractive, but he's got good character. THE END.

#yes this is a bruce appreciation post #am i biased? yes. am i right that he has these features? also yes.#hes actually a very attractive person. hes got all the right features for it #plus hes smart (some medical knowledge) is really loyal strong-willed and patient #he puts up with kudo SO much #from being bossed around to taking home yoichis brother to whatever the heck kudo made him do to figure out OFA's transfer properties.....#i didnt think much of bruce originally #then i started doing resistance fic stuff and now hes a fave #hes a little blorbo #that i throw in terrible situations for my own entertainment #used his scary smile for comedy purposes #like when he made a kid cry once. or when a meta child was afraid of him so they bit him #has patience to deal with kudo and co. but also. has enough bite to snark them. is how i like writing him #oh? background character? well lemme just *picks him up* EXPAND ON THAT-#fic stuff: he tries making a good impression on a girl and kudo is ruining it immediately #he doesnt know what to do because the two always banter #kudo: fuck you #oc: fuck me yourself you coward #he sees through a rose-lens that kudo is trying to rip off his face #appeciation kinda turned analysis in general #bruce #kudo #yoichi shigaraki #bnha #mha #spoilers #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #NOT YOICHIS BROTHER. i meant Yoichi / AFO's brother in a prev tag up there but theres too much tags i dont wanna rewrite to fix that #(image limit and tag limit)

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