Tumgik
#this got so fucking long
possamble · 24 days
Text
Needlessly close reading and long commentary on chapter 57 and how the audience actually has an extremely limited view on what Marcille has been like over the course of her life.
I am once again thinking about how pre-dungeon Marcille is so quiet and stoic that she seems like a completely different person. How jarring chapter 57 is for the audience. Like you have Marcille, who has been just the most blindingly expressive person with resting baby face
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
And then the chapter drops a title page of Marcille hearing from Falin for the first time in four years and it's like.
Tumblr media
Who is that. Genuinely. Would you even realize that's Marcille without the context clues?
And then the chapter just keeps coming in with the sucker punches.
Tumblr media
We have SEEN Marcille meet strangers. It was never with this understated of a smile.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
literally who the hell is this. the few times the audience gets to see some Signature Marcille Faces that they're used to is when she finally gets to see Falin again
Tumblr media
when she's testing out her new spells
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
(and when Laios and Falin are fantasizing about her being their damsel in distress, funnily enough)
Tumblr media
And then finally. Finally you get to a fully recognizable Marcille when she fucking DIES and comes back to life to geek out about necromancy.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
We know she loves magic. We know she loves Falin. So it's not so surprising that she wouldn't be able to keep a mask up when thinking or talking about the things she loves. But why the mask in the first place? Where does it come from? It's tempting to think that, maybe, Falin's departure just hurt her so much that it turned her into a quiet person.
But that's only half true. If you go back, the first instance you see of this incredibly mild personality is actually introduced much earlier, in chapter 17.
Tumblr media
What if she was always like that. What if her default after her father died was to hold people at arm's length, to never really emote past being polite and friendly. What if Falin was the first person who was able to bring her out of her shell, and when she left, Marcille just went back to how she was.
And when comparing her detached demeanour with someone else...
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
It's not exact, but wouldn't you say there's a resemblance? Wouldn't you think she might be trying her best to imitate what she saw of her own mother working as an accomplished mage?
It would certainly explain why she's hiding behind her portrait in her nightmare, at least.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
We aren't told that Marcille has been distancing herself from everyone around her using a mature and dignified personality she modelled off her mother. But we sure as hell are shown it, I think.
3K notes · View notes
chinchillinator · 2 years
Text
Stupid long post about why Fire Island (2022) hit me in the solar plexus and didn’t let up
ive had time to Process. ive had time to eat. ive had time to drink quite a lot of tea. now, time to be slightly more coherent about my thoughts. though far more long-winded. because here’s the thing, Fire Island is not about just Being Gay or just Being Asian. it is about the intersection of these.
This movie is just enjoyable. Straight up. No question. It is a movie that is enjoyable to watch for anyone who has even a remote interest in the romcom genre. It’s a deeply heartfelt adaptation of a well-loved novel, it’s a respectful and grateful nod to adaptations that have come before it, it’s a fun comedy that hits its beats perfectly every time, and it’s so full of care that every character shines for themselves in a way that makes you love each and every one. And, alright, maybe I’m somewhat biased, but truly I think this is just a Good Movie and its universality comes from it just being a Good Movie that makes people laugh and cry and just have fun watching it.
But sitting down to watch this movie sparked something in me that is so much deeper than just genuine enjoyment. I experienced something I’ve never had the privilege of experiencing before: a movie that represented every facet of myself in such an authentic way, I finally understood what it means to see myself in a piece of media. Not just a part, not just a relatable line that spoke to something I recognized in my own life, but a much more layered and nuanced sum total of my lived experience. Because that’s what it’s like to have a movie about queer Asian-Americans that’s actually written by queer Asian-Americans.
I said to my friend -- also a queer Asian-American -- while watching a scene in Erin’s kitchen, “this is such an Asian house.” She screamed her agreement. (To be fair, most of the movie was just us screaming at each other, but regardless.) There’s no explicit details that I could point to and say, “that’s an Asian thing” or “this is exactly like my house,” but it feels inherently like my home. This is where I am comfortable, this is where I belong, and this is, at least in part, due to the influence of the woman who owns it: an Asian woman. A woman in my community, who could be related to me, who’s built a place that speaks directly to my soul. It’s a combination of so many little things that I couldn’t even explain, but the whole creates a place that I just know. That’s what it was to watch this movie.
It’s only touched on once in the actual narration and dialogue. On the ferry to the island, Noah and Howie talk about being Asian in the queer community and what that means in a few pithy lines to give context to the movie’s themes and who they are as characters. We move on pretty quickly. It’s not necessarily important, nor necessarily a focal point -- this movie is not about Being Asian. These characters are not Asian to advance the plot or create a heart-wrenching character arc or be the representation quota to make the movie woke. They are simply humans. Just some people who could be sitting next to you on the bus talking about finding love or finding someone to fuck. Their race is incidental.
Only it’s also not.
Like with Erin’s kitchen, there are very few single details of this movie that I could pick out and say, “that is what defines the queer Asian-American experience.” But at the same time there were dozens of instances that struck me as something I knew intimately. The subtleties of anti-Asian racism and the briefest of brief mentions of being mix-race and how these things interact and intersect within the queer community as whole. And they’re never dwelled upon as if they are important to the plot, because essentially, they are not. This movie was for queer Asian-Americans not because it was necessarily about how our experiences are defined by our race or our sexuality, but because it built our experiences into the world so organically that it’s almost unnoticed. Because, to us, it kind of is. This is just how life is for us, we don’t know or see any different, we can’t. Everything we go through is rolled up within our identities, and of course this is true for everyone everywhere. It’s just that this movie was so perfectly targeted to this specific demographic because Joel Kim Booster is, himself, a queer Asian-American. Almost like, by having someone of that demographic breathe life into this story and these characters, it creates a fully-rounded, nuanced, and entirely authentic portrayal of a particular community that speaks to them on a level much deeper than any other. Wild.
I do want to try to talk about two specific instances, though, despite all I’ve just said about how the lack of specificity actually creates such powerful representation, because they mattered to me so very much and they feel very topical at this moment. First, the creepy dude who hits on Noah and Howie because they’re Asian, and second, the fact of Will’s mixed heritage. How do these things relate to the plot? Oh, well, they don’t. At all. You can take out Cooper’s line about Will’s mother and you can replace the creepy dude with literally anyone else and nothing about the story is different. But it would lose something significant to me. Losing those would be losing parts of the world that make it so viscerally real and recognizable to me; the representation wouldn’t feel so painfully, beautifully poignant to me without them.
So, let’s talk creepy dude. The fucking anime tattoos. That’s what Noah points out. And, no, that’s not some hard and fast rule saying “oh, this person loves orientalism” but it is something we Notice. And Consider. And it’s perfectly portrayed as to why. This guy is not outright racist in the most formal sense. Not a slur in sight. No spitting or violence. Just the most deeply uncomfortable microaggression known to man that tells us, immediately and unquestioningly, this person only wants to fetishize us. It’s the predatory nature of his approach, the way he zooms in on Noah and exudes the air of trapping him without even being directly in his space. It’s the way he played “so where are you really from” like a game with himself. It’s the combination of this with his four anime tattoos. This man doesn’t give a fuck who Noah or Howie are, he only wants An Asian. And this is distressingly common amongst Asian-Americans.
The conversation about the fetishization of Asian bodies normally focuses on female-presenting bodies. And while it’s true that female-presenting Asian people are more at risk due to the overlap of them being female-presenting and Asian and the way our society is structured against female-presenting people, Joel Kim Booster is making a hell of a point with this: racism is present in queer communities, and anti-Asian racism looks awfully similar no matter where you are. Queer, male-presenting Asians are fetishized the same way female-presenting Asians are and it is just as harmful. And just as subtle. This moment made my entire self simply become the embodiment of the word yikes. But maybe to someone who isn’t Asian, this moment looked innocuous. Maybe to every other person in that scene who wasn’t Asian, nothing weird or out of place was happening at all. And, in fact, if Noah wasn’t Asian, this wouldn’t have happened at all. A very recognizable Asian-American experience distilled down to a few seconds that served only to introduce our first interaction between Noah and Will, which could have gone any other way for the sake of the plot, but also couldn’t have for the sake of real life. Because Noah is Asian, because Joel Kim Booster is Asian. Because this is just How Things Happen to us. And if we’re fighting against the fetishization of female-presenting Asians, we have to fight against the fetishization of male-presenting Asians, too.
As for Will? His mixed heritage? That just laid me flat on my back.
It’s the fact that Cooper felt the need to point it out. As if to really nail home to Noah, “he’s more like us than he is like you.” When the entire point of the story is this very Us Versus Them mentality -- whether it pertains to class, or race, or any other form of social standing -- Cooper closing Will out of some perceived “Asian club” with Noah and Howie is essentially erasing the fact that he’s Asian at all. And that could mean that Will isn’t treated as Asian by these people; there’s a level of conformity that he must ascribe to in order to be accepted by them, one that upholds the White status quo, and if he steps out of line he loses them. Another form of racism interwoven with being a part of the queer community. Because connecting with other queer people is so wonderful and fulfilling and sometimes, maybe, you’re willing to overlook Certain Things in order to be amongst a group of your peers; no one wants to be doubly ostracized, but so many people are. It’s even thrown in Will’s face from the other side, too. When Noah tells him he’s just the token Asian for his friend group, a harsh reminder that he’s not like them, not really. That there are parts of his life and his lived experience that his friends will never understand. And the implication that Noah does understand. “You’re not better than me because you’re friends see you as White,” Noah seems to say, “you’re just being hurt in a different way.”
Being “white-passing” comes with its privileges and its pitfalls. And it’s not always about being white-passing in appearance, either. Conrad Ricamora is absolutely not white-passing to my eye. But he’s passed as white by his friends. By Cooper, who thinks that having a white mother gives the Us claim to him over the Them. And being passed as white, he must act that part. The beauty of the evolution of his relationship with Noah being that he no longer has to act. He can fully embrace his identity as a queer Asian man around other queer Asian men who share his experiences even more deeply than the other queer men he became close with. It’s not a part of his character arc that’s focused on, because the story isn’t about race or ethnicity, but to me, a “white-passing” mixed-race Asian, there was release at the end. A freedom. That breath you take at finally finding your place and being welcomed for the whole of who you are.
Erin’s kitchen. The little details of who Will was as a person bearing almost no resemblance to who I am as a person, and yet viscerally familiar.
None of this could’ve existed in this form if it was not helmed by a queer Asian-American. Someone who can simply weave his lived experiences into a movie that has literally nothing to do with them in any specificity, someone who can set us down in a world where we’re finally seeing through his eyes what it’s like to live his life. And I recognize that life. I also live that life. And I don’t have to dig down to find the parts of myself beneath all the layers I can’t relate to, I don’t have to pick a detail to latch on to. I get to have it all. I get to see Myself on a screen, represented in a way that I understand on just about every level. Chest-aching, heart-rending, utterly magical; almost three decades of this life and I get to have this. Finally.
14 notes · View notes
endusviolence · 1 month
Note
Rowling isn't denying holocaust. She just pointed out that burning of transgender health books is a lie as that form of cosmetic surgery didn't exist. But of course you knew that already, didn't you?
I was thinking I'd probably see one of you! You're wrong :) Let's review the history a bit, shall we?
In this case, what we're talking about is the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft, or in English, The Institute of Sexology. This Institute was founded and headed by a gay Jewish sexologist named Magnus Hirschfeld. It was founded in July of 1919 as the first sexology research clinic in the world, and was run as a private, non-profit clinic. Hirschfeld and the researchers who worked there would give out consultations, medical advice, and even treatments for free to their poorer clientele, as well as give thousands of lectures and build a unique library full of books on gender, sexuality, and eroticism. Of course, being a gay man, Hirschfeld focused a lot on the gay community and proving that homosexuality was natural and could not be "cured".
Hirschfeld was unique in his time because he believed that nobody's gender was either one or the other. Rather, he contended that everyone is a mixture of both male and female, with every individual having their own unique mix of traits.
This leads into the Institute's work with transgender patients. Hirschfeld was actually the one to coin the term "transsexual" in 1923, though this word didn't become popular phrasing until 30 years later when Harry Benjamin began expanding his research (I'll just be shortening it to trans for this brief overview.) For the Institute, their revolutionary work with gay men eventually began to attract other members of the LGBTA+, including of course trans people.
Contrary to what Anon says, sex reassignment surgery was first tested in 1912. It'd already being used on humans throughout Europe during the 1920's by the time a doctor at the Institute named Ludwig Levy-Lenz began performing it on patients in 1931. Hirschfeld was at first opposed, but he came around quickly because it lowered the rate of suicide among their trans patients. Not only was reassignment performed at the Institute, but both facial feminization and facial masculization surgery were also done.
The Institute employed some of these patients, gave them therapy to help with other issues, even gave some of the mentioned surgeries for free to this who could not afford it! They spoke out on their behalf to the public, even getting Berlin police to help them create "transvestite passes" to allow people to dress however they wanted without the threat of being arrested. They worked together to fight the law, including trying to strike down Paragraph 175, which made it illegal to be homosexual. The picture below is from their holiday party, Magnus Hirschfeld being the gentleman on the right with the fabulous mustache. Many of the other people in this photo are transgender.
Tumblr media
[Image ID: A black and white photo of a group of people. Some are smiling at the camera, others have serious expressions. Either way, they all seem to be happy. On the right side, an older gentleman in glasses- Magnus Hirschfeld- is sitting. He has short hair and a bushy mustache. He is resting one hand on the shoulder of the person in front of him. His other hand is being held by a person to his left. Another person to his right is holding his shoulder.]
There was always push back against the Institute, especially from conservatives who saw all of this as a bad thing. But conservatism can't stop progress without destroying it. They weren't willing to go that far for a good while. It all ended in March of 1933, when a new Chancellor was elected. The Nazis did not like homosexuals for several reasons. Chief among them, we break the boundaries of "normal" society. Shortly after the election, on May 6th, the book burnings began. The Jewish, gay, and obviously liberal Magnus Hirschfeld and his library of boundary-breaking literature was one of the very first targets. Thankfully, Hirschfeld was spared by virtue of being in Paris at the time (he would die in 1935, before the Nazis were able to invade France). His library wasn't so lucky.
This famous picture of the book burnings was taken after the Institute of Sexology had been raided. That's their books. Literature on so much about sexuality, eroticism, and gender, yes including their new work on trans people. This is the trans community's Alexandria. We're incredibly lucky that enough of it survived for Harry Benjamin and everyone who came after him was able to build on the Institute's work.
Tumblr media
[Image ID: A black and white photo of the May Nazi book burning of the Institute of Sexology's library. A soldier, back facing the camera, is throwing a stack of books into the fire. In the background of the right side, a crowd is watching.]
As the Holocaust went on, the homosexuals of Germany became a targeted group. This did include transgender people, no matter what you say. To deny this reality is Holocaust denial. JK Rowling and everyone else who tries to pretend like this isn't reality is participating in that evil. You're agreeing with the Nazis.
But of course, you knew that already, didn't you?
Edit: Added image IDs. I apologize to those using screen readers for forgetting them. Please reblog this version instead.
16K notes · View notes
keepinventory · 1 year
Text
59K notes · View notes
lethologicaee · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
had a request for long hair jason sitting in my inbox for forever and somehow i have lost it... but here is the sketch. i gave him several hairstyles
this was NOT a sketch request commission for gaza, but it is an example of what you would receive if you did choose to donate! if you would like to receive your very own sketch, please check my pinned post for methods of donation & info regarding the commission process.
3K notes · View notes
milfpopplio · 3 months
Text
the real reason kieran doesnt have a phone is because all you would see in your notifs during the start of the epilogue is
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
vihrago-a · 1 year
Note
angry  kiss. stevie / midas
Tumblr media
MIDAS WAS GOING TO KILL HER. and she didn't blame him. she waits in his office , pacing wildly. fuck fuck fuck -- what had she done? it was supposed to be a simple mission. take out a HVT , leave quietly.
-- she'd been positioned in a building across from where the target resided at a staged meeting between two crime syndicates. her scope was aimed a little above the target , compensating two ticks for bullet drop. she breathes slowly and steadies ... then pulling the trigger. the bullet whizzes past and pierces through the window with a shrill whistle. but it seems she had made a miscalculation. it passes his head by nearly half an inch , just barely grazing him. her heart drops. she missed. she missed? all hell had broken loose in the building across from her , a full shootout occurring. people from both sides lost their lives. stevie was quick to throw her rifle into her duffle bag and boogie the hell out of there otherwise she might suffer the same fate as them. this was bad , really fucking bad.
the office door opens swiftly and he appears through the door way , silent. a completely unforgiving gaze. she really wished she could just curl up and disappear right now. cease to exist. the door closes and she backs away , leaning against the wall across from him. he isn't saying a single word. her heart is in about her stomach right now and she feels like she's going to pass out from anxiety or fear. she hadn't ever missed a shot before -- had never failed. so why now? what the hell went wrong? her eyes are avoiding his even though she could feel him staring daggers despite the very tense silence.
" what happened? because i would really like to know an answer for why our target got away and we had to abort this mission. it was a simple job , a clean kill. "
her face turns a deep shade of red , out of sheer embarrassment and disgust. she had surely disappointed him. she cannot come up with an answer. her mouth opens but nothing comes out -- nothing but silence. stevie looks back up at him , blood running cold. some of his skin had become splotchy with gold. like ... truly gold. he really was angry and she was probably about to receive the same treatment his henchmen got. theres not even a place for her to run to. there was nowhere she could hide in or escape. she presses herself against the wall , that was of course there too. her voice is quiet and meek , terrified.
" i dont-- i dont know im sorry. i thought i got the distance right-- i didn't mean to-- "
he stalks towards her and she's prepared for whatever comes next. midas towered over her -- any other time it would be attractive. but now? terror inducing. she swallows , her own nervous gaze boring into his stoic one. his hand snakes behind her head and reaches the base of her skull , gripping her hair with a gentle ferocity. not meant to hurt .. but to make a point. this was not what she expected. her heart flutters and the next few moments were a blur. he pulled her into a deep kiss with a passion she hadn't seen many times before. she was weak in the knees but held him close , having to stand on her tip toes. when he pulls away , she feels robbed and empty. was this his idea of a punishment? if so , she wanted more.
" i'll finish what you couldn't. but dont fail me again. "
Tumblr media
0 notes
chronicowboy · 3 months
Text
we as a collective do Not talk about this line delivery nearly enough and for good fucking reason, i'll kill bradley james for this one line alone. he's just a little boy :'((
1K notes · View notes
amelia-yap · 28 days
Text
Tumblr media
it's april and they are bloody fools
1K notes · View notes
lotus-pear · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
bsd rewatch w my friend means obligatory art of my fav found family ever
1K notes · View notes
arielluva · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
look within
2K notes · View notes
thefatedthoughtofyou · 2 months
Text
{ soooo.... @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe reblogged ONE werewolf post and mentioned steddie in the tags and then... this... happened. It was all spur of the moment with no planning so if you see mistakes and/or plot holes... no you don't. 😬💖 }
Warnings: Billy Hargrove, blood, wound tending, violence, if it needs anymore let me know. ✌🏻
🍒🍒🍒
"I'm completely serious." Eddie says, feet kicked up on.... someone's coffee table. He doesn't remember who's party it is. Jeff nods agreeably next to him, sinking further into the couch.
"No. You've gotta be fucking joking. That would not-" Gareth tries to argue. Eddie cuts him off immediately.
"No seriously. I need a werewolf to take one look at me and go 'I'll have that.' Then claim me as their mate and never let me go." Eddie sighs, the hellfire boys erupting in chaos around him.
Normally, Eddie would join in, cause a ruckus. But he'd frozen after he'd spoken. His eyes glued to one Steve Harrington. Who had been taking a drink and promptly choked on said drink, his eyes wide when they landed on Eddie, beer or some other liquid dribbling down his chin as his cheeks flushed.
He was all the way in the kitchen, his friend Robin chattering away next to him, now wiping at his face. There's no way he could have heard Eddie. Not over the music, and the house full of shouting drunken teenagers.
Eddie watches as he finally tears his eyes away. He watches Steve grab Robin's wrist and yank her out of sight. If Eddie's lip reading was as good as it used to be, he'd said something along the lines of: "Robin. We need to go. Now."
But that didn't make any sense. Eddie was just joking. And Steve was all the way in the other room. Eddie sunk down into the couch, ignoring the way his stomach turned when he heard the front door open and close. There was no fucking way he heard him.
No fucking way.
Unless.
~°~
"Steve Harrington. Is not a werewolf. What the fuck are you even saying?" Gareth was nearly yelling now. They'd been having this conversation for almost an hour and it seemed he was at his wits end.
"Yes he is Gare! Yes he is! I would swear on it." Eddie shouts back, pointing at his friend from his position on the floor, his feet up on the couch next to Jeff. His toes wiggling under his arm every now and again to get warm.
"Swear on what!?" Gareth shrieked, his hands flailing into the air next to his head.
"Werewolves aren't real!" His voice is so squeaky now the neighbors dog has started barking.
"Jeff. Eric. You guys really not gonna help me with this?" He begs, holding his hands out to them, pleading.
"I mean..." Eric drawls, scratching at his ear.
"What?" Gareth asks, eyes narrowed.
"Maybe they are.... There was that thing with Chrissy." Eric says, his voice lilting as he looks in Jeff's direction.
"No. No no no no. We are not talking about that again either. Jeff did not see Chrissy Cunningham drinking blood." Gareth huffs, so frustrated now his face is turning red.
"I know what I saw." Jeff says with a shrug, his hand moving to Eddie's calf and rubbing it rapidly, trying to warm his cold leg for him. Eddie smiled at him and then looked back up at Gareth from the floor.
"He knows what he saw Gare. Chrissy is a fucking vampire. And Steve. Steve Harrington is a fucking werewolf. Possibly. The love of my life. Though that may be a tad unlikely. Given that he almost definitely doesn't like boys." Eddie pouts, and then startles when Gareth stomps over to look straight down at him.
"Oh is it? Is it unlikely because he doesn't like boys? Not because there's no such thing as FUCKING WEREWOLVES!?" Gareth full on yells it. His hands fisting in his hair.
"Gareth Eugene!" His mothers voice calls down the stairs.
"Sorry mom!" He yells back, turns on Jeff and Eddie when the laugh.
"It's not fucking funny. This is ridiculous. You're all ridiculous. It's not real. Fuck you guys." He hisses, keeping his voice low. Jeff and Eddie look at each other, then to Eric, all of them smile and shout,
"Gareth Eugene!" In unison. Gareth screams at them, tosses a few empty chip bags at them and throws himself into the emtpy chair next to Eric.
"You all sound, insane. You know that right?" He asks, sounding calm, and genuine again. Eddie shrugs, Eric laughs.
"Maybe you just need to open your mind?" Jeff suggests, brushing chip crumbs from his shirt.
"Open my mind? To vampires and werewolves?" He asks, arms crossed over his chest with a huff.
"Yes. Because if they exist. And mine and Jeff's crushes are one of each. Ugh. Shit." Eddie curses, his shoulder bumping the small table as he rights himself, slides his legs off the couch and kneels by the table instead.
"We could literally live our dreams." Eddie pleads, his fingers laced in front of him.
"Your dream. I don't have a dream about dating a vampire. Just dating Chrissy." He sighs, his eyes going glassy. Eddie waves him off, not even looking at him.
"I could literally live my dream. My dream of having a smoking hot werewolf boyfriend who wants to mark me and breed me and keep me forever." Eddie whines, Eric and Gareth both groaning at Eddie's details. Jeff gives no reaction, lost in  his thoughts about  Chrissy.
"You're crazy man. There are not secret supernatural creatures all over Hawkins. Is the whole basketball team werewolves? Is this fucking Teen Wolf? You think Steve is just gonna wolf out at the next game?" Gareth asks, his voice rising again. Eddie plops down onto his butt, elbows resting on the little table, chin in his hands.
"God that'd be great wouldn't it?" He sighs, eyes focusing over Eric's head like he can see it.
"Hey!" Gareth snaps his fingers in front of Eddie's face.
"Rude." Eddie swats at his hand.
"And who's next? Huh? Tommy and Carol? That dick Hargrove?" Gareth shoves a chip into his mouth chewing angrily. Eddie grimaces.
"Hargrove is not supernatural." Eddie shakes his head.
"He's a supernatural dick. Like... his asshole levels are way off the charts." Jeff chimes in, sinking to the floor next to Eddie and taking a swig of Eddie's mountain dew, Eddie nods in agreement.
"Yeah. He's definitely a peice of shit. But not in a supernatural way. Probably good. Honestly. Can you imagine?" Eddie's nose scrunches before he takes a drink as well. Even Gareth groans in agreement.
It's quiet for a moment. None of them talking. The occasional chip crunching or bag rustling, the pop of a soda can being opened. All of them just sitting, thinking, loudly, but in silence. And then Gareth breaks it, and his steadfast denial of it all.
"Okay. But seriously, if they're were vampires and werewolves in Hawkins we'd know about it! That's not something that could be kept secret." His voice is low now, his eyes moving over the boys around him.
"Is it?" He asks, looking slightly worried.
"I dunno. This town does have a long history of unexplained animal attacks." Eric chimes in, the three other heads in the room turn to look at him, slowly.
"What? I like history." He defends. They all go quiet again, for longer.
Eddie moving a few things here and there on the table. Jeff moving them right back just to frustrate him. Both of them slapping at each other. It devolves into a small wrestling match that Eddie wins by going completely limp on top of Jeff.
"Okay." Gareth breaks the silence again. Eddie and Jeff shuffle around, separating themselves from each other, ending up in the opposite spots as before, they notice, frown at each other, and then shrug, looking to Gareth again.
"Okay?" They ask, at the same time.
"Okay." Gareth nods, but holds his finger up at them. Their brows raised on their foreheads as they wait.
"But Steve Harrington. Is not cool enough. To be a fucking werewolf."
~°~
One week, three days, and ten hours later. The morning after the full moon. Eddie nearly hits Steve Harrington with his van.
Rain is pouring from the sky, his wipers on high, barely helping. He's heading for school, Wayne had sent him off on time after a nice plate of scrambled eggs and toast.
He didn't have any tests or quizzes today. And he'd actually remembered to do his homework. The morning was going well.
That's when the body appeared in the road just past his vision. He slammed on the breaks and had never been so happy that he'd been ripped off and over paid for new breakpads last month. The van skids to a halt, his headlights shining on the person, the naked person, in the road.
"What the fuck?" Eddie breathed. He slammed the van into park, grabbed the keys out, and jumped out into the pouring rain. He stopped, grabbed a blanket out of the back, that normally covered Gareth's drums when they traveled, and ran around the front of the van.
"Holy shit." Eddie felt like he'd been punched.
"Hi Eddie." Steve Harrington, naked, wet, waving up at him with a wiggly fingered wave, and holy shit was that blood.
"Is that blood?" Eddie blurts, his hands already shaking.
"Yeah." Steve says, like it's fine, like it's normal.
"Shit did I hit you?" Eddie falls to his knees, holds the blanet out to Steve. He eyes it, looks back to Eddie.
"You're naked." He says. Steve closes his eyes, sighs.
"Right. Thanks." He grabs the blanket, drags it around his waist as he tries to stand. The second he puts pressure on his leg he starts to fall again. Eddie ducks under his arm and catches him. Doing his best to ignore the way Steve's warm, wet, skin feels under his hands.
"Hospital?" He asks, helping Steve to the passenger door. Steve levels him with a look that tells him he should know better.
"Right. Okay. Sorry. Jeez. You just- You're bleeding kind of a lot dude." Eddie huffs, helps Steve into the van and grabs a towel from the glovebox.
His brows furrowed, he presses it to the very large fucking hole, in Steve's leg. He doesn't even flinch, his eyes locked on Eddie, and his slow, gentle movements. Steve's hand settling over his makes his whole body jerk.
"Thanks. I can do that." Steve says, softly. Eddie doesn't let go.
"You gotta put pressure on it." He says, eyes locked on the red seeping into the towel.
"I will." Steve nods, squeezes Eddie's wrist, trying to get his attention.
"Eddie?" He squeezes again, Eddies eyes move up his arm to his face.
"Yeah?" His eyes are wide.
"We gotta get outta here." Steve's own eyes widen, waiting for Eddie to understand. It doesn't take long. He whips his head around, trying to see into the trees around them, his hair completely soaked now, his bangs drooping into his eyes.
"Shit. Okay." He nods, turns back to Steve, hands over the towel to him and nods again.
"Okay. I got it." He says, not sure if he's talking to himself or Steve. Steve nods, fucking smiles, at him, and lets him shut the door.
Eddie runs around the van, jumps back in, starts her up, gets her turned around carefully, and drives.
"Did someone shoot you man?" Eddie asks after a moment, Steve groans as he presses the towel to his leg, hard, his knuckles going white.
"Yep. Sure did." Steve sounds... nonplussed. Like it's just, a normal fucking Tuesday. Which it isn't. It's very much not a normal Tuesday. Because Steve Harrington got shot. And now he's in Eddie's van bleeding. And besides all that it's fucking Friday.
Eddie's hands tense on the wheel, his own knckles white now as well. He's nodding. Just absently. His head knows Steve answered him, can't seem to from words to make his own answer just yet.
"You okay Eddie?" Steve asks, tugging the blanket around his waist more with his free hand. Eddie just keeps nodding.
"Where are you taking me?" Steve asks, seems to realize he wasn't going to get an answer to the previous question.
"Home." Is all Eddie says. He glances to his right, Steve's eyes are on him.
"Wayne'll know what to do. He'll help." Eddie nods, his eyes back on the road.
"He'll help." He says again, to no one in particular. Steve nods, bites his lip when pain shoots through his leg, doesn't quite manage to stiffle the groan of pain.
"Who fucking shot you Steve?" It's the first time he's used Steve's name, maybe ever, to his face at least. Steve snorts, it sounds like a laugh.
"Fucking Hargrove." He grunts, presses harder on his leg. Eddie's head whips to look at him, his wet hair slapping against his face.
"What? Shit. Really?" He asks, rapid fire. Steve closes his eyes and nods.
"Eyes on the road Ed's." Steve's lips turn up in a smile right before Eddie looks away, his eyes are still closed.
"Covered his scent somehow. I didn't smell him. Or hear him. Fucking asshole." Steve slams his fist against the dash, Eddie jumps, his whole body twitching, he refused to acknowledge the yelp that came out of his mouth.
"Sorry. I'm sorry." Steve breathes deeply through his nose, like he's trying to stay calm.
"It's okay. I'd be pissed too if Billy Hargrove fucking shot me." Eddie says, quickly, the words falling out of his mouth faster than he can think them. Steve snorts again, and Eddie's sure he is laughing, as well as he can, through the pain.
"Wait, he drives that blue camero right?" Eddie asks, eyes locked on his rear view mirror.
"Yeah. Why?" Steve follows his gaze, then looks into the side mirror.
"Shit." He says, trying to sit up further, or turn around, or something.
"Put the seat back and lay down." Eddie says, his hand pointing across Steve's lap to the little lever on the side.
Steve does as he's told, the seat going nearly flat. Eddie reaches behind his seat and grabs his backpack, sets it genlty in Steve's lap. Anyone passing would just be able to see the top of it.
He pushes his tape back into the tapedeck and cranks the volume. His fingers drumming and his head bobbing to the music as Billy's car rumbles up behind them, fast. Eddie's lucky he even saw it at all in the rain.
He keeps his eyes forward, fingers drumming. Pretends not to notice Hargove's car pull along side him for a moment. He twitches his head to the side, does a double take and then scowls at him, motioning to the open road ahead of them. Clearly telling Hargrove to fucking pass him already.
He does. Flipping Eddie the bird as he goes. He does a u-turn in the middle of the road and speeds back past them, the water from his tires splashing across Eddie's windshield.
He flips the wipers back up and keeps his eyes on Billy's car until it disappears back into the rain. He grabs his bag off Steve's lap and sets it by his feet instead as Steve sits up with a groan. Pulling the lever again so the seat comes with him.
"That was pretty good." Steve sighs, leaning against the window. Eddie turns his music down.
"Don't sound so suprised. I sell drugs man. I have to act natural a lot. Plus, he almost ran me off the road last month, I was pretty sure he'd try and pass me anyway." Eddie shrugs, keeps both hands on the wheel and one eye on the road behind them.
"Why'd he shoot you?" Eddie asks, glancing at Steve and then back to the road. He'd swear Steve was smiling.
"Why do you think?" He asks, sounds tired. Eddie rolls to a stop at a four way, looks over at Steve, down to the towel on his leg soaked with blood. He pulls away slow, they're so close to home now, no need to draw attention.
"He doesn't know it's me, I don't think. Just that he shot a wolf. He's been trying since he got here. Hunting us." Steve sighs, readjustes himself in his seat again.
Eddie swallows, hard, his heart pounding. His knuckles flashing white again as he squeezes the steering wheel. He turns into Forest Hills, his foot that's not on the peddle is shaking now, his knee jumping and jerking.
He pulls up to the trailer slowly, cuts the lights and the engine, and turns slowly in his seat to face Steve.
"You're a werewolf." He exhales into the space between them.
"I'm a werewolf." Steve nods, gives him a pained, toothy, smile. Eddie nods back, keeps nodding, he's lost in it again. The nodding.
Steve's hand patting his cheek snaps him out of it. He jerks again, not used to being touched there, or anywhere, really. He sees Steve pull his hand back, swears he sees hurt in his eyes.
"Sorry. I know it's a lot. But I need to get this bullet out of my leg like, yesterday." Steve sighs, covers the hurt look with another pained smile.
"Right. Yeah. Of course. Hang tight." He pats Steve's knee genlty, hops out of the van, and yells for Wayne.
~°~
They get Steve inside no questions asked. Wayne carries him to the bathroom and sets him on the edge of the tub. Eddie grabs a pair of boxers from his drawer and brings them to Steve.
"Figured you don't wanna be naked while you do that." He shrugs. Steve shrugs back.
"I've done worse things naked." He says, a little smile on his lips. Eddie goes warm all over and nods, bumps into the door frame as he back out of the small room.
He watches Wayne roll his eyes at him. He shakes his head too, crossing his arms over his chest. Eddie mouths 'shut up'at him and goes to kitchen. Wayne walks up beside him while he tries to get Steve's blood out from under his nails.
"Hey." Wayne sets his hand on Eddie's shoulder, he twitches.
"You did good kid. Bringin him here." Wayne's voice is calm. Always calm with Eddie.
He's never heard the man yell, except maybe at the raccoons that live to dig through their trash and toss it all over the yard. Eddie swears he'd heard Wayne call them varmints once. But other than that, he's soft spoken, so different from Eddie's father. Eddie's grateful. Everyday.
"Yeah. He was just out in the road. I almost hit him." Eddie's lip wobbles and Wayne pulls him to his chest, his hand rubbing up and down Eddie's back.
"But you didn't. You stopped. And you saved him, sounds like, so..." he pulls back, cradles Eddie's face.
"Seems to me that's all that matters." He lifts his eyebrows, giving Eddie that look. Eddie nods, a little frantic, licks his lips, looks in the direction of the bathroom.
"Yeah. That's what matters." He nods again, wipes his hands on his shirt. Opens his mouth to thank his uncle when Steve calls his name.
"Go on. Go see to your boy." Wayne tilts his head in Steve's direction.
"Oh my god. He's not my- he can hear you." Eddie hiss/whispers at Wayne. He pulls his lips into his mouth, shrugs, looking like he could not be less sorry. Eddie hisses at him as he walks away, glaring. Wayne laughs behind him and starts a pot of coffee.
"You called?" Eddie teases when he gets to the bathroom, leans agaisnt the doorframe.
"You came." Steve teases back, his eyes locked on Eddie. Eddie flushes again, from head to fucking foot. He clears his throat, rubs at the back of his neck.
"Did you need something?" Eddie asks, his eyes on the floor now. He swears he hears Steve chuckle, but can't risk looking up to find a smiling, teasing Steve, he wouldn't survive it right now.
"Yeah. Two things actually. And you're not gonna like the second one." Eddie's eyes snap to Steve's face, he looks apologetic.
"What is it?" Eddie asks, shoving his hands into her pockets nervously.
"Well the first thing, I need you to call Jim Hopper. Tell him what happened. And that I'm here. And I'm safe. I am safe with you, right Eddie?" Steve looks up at him with wide eyes. Eddie nods, licks his lips, tries to do better.
"Yeah. Course. That thing, earlier? When you touched me. And I flinched." He jerks his head back, motioning behind him, into the past hour.
"That wasn't because of you and your- it wasn't cuz of that. I'm not afraid of you. I'm just not used to people touching me." Eddie babbles, knows that's probably not what Steve meant, probably not why he was asking if he was safe.
But that hurt look kept bouncing around Eddie's head and he had to say it, to tell him it wasn't because of Steve, any part of him. And it pays off, his babbling, for once, because Steve smiles, and his cheeks tint pink, and Eddie could look at that all day.
"Thanks." Steve mumbles, Eddie nods.
"Call Hopper. Got it. And the second thing?" He rocks up onto the balls of his feet and then back down, Steve looks up at him and grimaces.
"I need you to help hold this while I dig the bullet out." Steve taps the little homemade tourniquet he and Wayne had put together, resting right above the bullet wound. Eddie swallows, his throat suddenly very dry.
"O-okay." He stammers.
"Do you want Wayne to do it?" Steve asks, eyeing Eddie like he thinks he's gonna pass out. Eddie shakes his head, once to answer the question, and then again to clear it.
"Lemme go have Wayne call Hopper. And I'll be back. Should I bring more towels?" He asks, hand firmly planted on the doorframe as he leans into the bathroom, his eyes on the bloody towel in the sink.
"Maybe one more. And two glasses of water." Steve says, nods when Eddie does.
"What's the water for?" He asks, brow furrowed.
"To drink. Thought maybe you could use a glass too. I can hear your throat clicking from here." Steve teases, smiling again when Eddie nods frantically and ducks out of the bathroom.
"You can probably hear my throat clicking from across town." He mutters to himself, grabbing two glasses out of the cabinet.
"Not quite that far. Maybe a few blocks, if I really focus." Steve calls from the bathroom.
"Jesus Christ." Eddie mutters, hears Steve laugh. He shakes his head, fills the glasses, gives Wayne his instructions for Hopper, shoves a towel under his arm, and waddles carefully back to the bathroom, hands full.
"There ya go." Eddie hands him a glass, tries not to stare at his throat when Steve chugs it, startles when Steve looks at him and chugs half his own glass.
"Where should I..." he trails off, looking around the bathroom.
"On your knees." Steve points to the space next to him, Eddie obeys immediately, his knees hitting the floor hard. His bites his lip, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, using all his willpower to not look at Steve right now, in this moment.
"That was-"
"Don't. Just- please don't. I'm mortified, can we just..." Eddie waves his hand towards Steve's wounded thigh.
"Mhm. We can." He says, and Eddie swears he sounds like he's trying not to laugh. Eddie rolls his eyes.
"Nothing wrong with obeying orders well." Steve says, his voice hushed as Eddie scoots closer. He freezes, his eyes finally looking up, Steve is staring at him. Eddie gulps, Steve's eyes drop to his throat and jump back up.
"Put your hands here." Steve guides him, shows him where to hold the tourniquet, how to pull but not too tight. His fingers move over the back of Eddie's hands, leaving the faintest tracks of blood on his skin as Steve whispers,
"Good boy." Against Eddie's ear.
"Jesus H Christ." Eddie shutters, his shoulders tensing.
"Sorry. Couldn't resist." And Steve fucking winks at him. Eddie rolls his eyes and huffs, Steve laughs, shakes his head, and then rolls his shoulders.
"You don't have to watch." Steve says, serious now. Eddie nods, but finds he can't look away.
Steve's hand rests on his thigh, as Eddie watches his nails grow dark, and long, and sharp. Thick claws now where his nails used to be. Eddie watches as Steve moves, presses his finger into the hole in his leg and digs. He shoves his thumb in along side it, blood blooms bewteen his fingers and Eddie tightens his hold.
The whimper Steve lets out is what draws Eddie's eyes away. Away from the claws and the blood. They land on Steve's face, his features pinched in pain. He grits his teeth and Eddie sees fangs, too sharp teeth filling Steve's mouth as he groans.
"Steve?" Eddie's voice is airy, his throat tight.
"I'm alright. Almost got it." Steve grunts through his teeth, his jaw clentched.
"Okay. Be careful." Eddie whispers. Steve snorts again, pulls his thumb and finger back out of the wound with a whine, something shiny held between them.
He sags, his body drooping with relief. He holds the bullet out, Eddie moves, slowly lets go of the tourniquet, and holds out his hand.
"Don't lose that." Steve cautions, pausing before he drops it into Eddie's palm. Eddie nods, drops it into the cup near his toothbrush and moves back to Steve's side.
"What now?" He asks, hands hovering, not sure where to land. Steve looks at him, hooks his fingers under the tourniquet and winks at Eddie again.
"Now. I heal." He slips the rags off his leg. Eddie watches as one small pulse of blood bubbles up out of the wound, and then he watches as the edges close, the skin knitting itself back together. Steve wipes a towel over his leg, clearing the blood, and the wound is gone.
"Holy shit." Eddie says, breathless. His eyes jump to Steve face and he smiles.
"You're amazing." He breathes, and then smiles wider when his cheeks tint pink again.
"Ya think so? Most people wouldn't agree." Steve says, but he's smiling too.
"Well most people are idiots. And objectively you're probably weird as shit. But I love weird shit." Eddie shrugs, rubs at his neck when Steve just stares at him, feels himself going red again and stands. Offers his hand to Steve, helps him to his feet. He stumbles forward, Eddie catches him with his hands on his waist, feels his cheeks go impossibly hotter.
"You're hearts always beating so fast. Is that cuz of me?" Steve whispers, his hand settling on Eddie's chest, right over his fluttering heart. Eddie swallows, manages a nod before his resolve leaves him and he steps away from Steve hastily.
"You can shower if you want. I'm gonna- I'll go find you some clean clothes." He jerks his thumb over his shoulder, bounces off the doorframe and bolts down the small hallway to his room.
He falls onto the edge of his bed, his legs wobbly, his chest aching, and his lungs somehow not pulling in enough air. He smiles when he hears the shower start, tries not to picture Steve in there showering. And shit, he forgot.
"The warm waters a little tricky. You gotta turn it all the way up and then lower it back down." He says, not too loud, wanting to know if Steve will hear him. He hears the tell squeak of the warm water handle and then Steve calls,
"Thanks!" Through the thin walls. Eddie bites his lip and falls back onto his bed, his head buzzing. He can't wait to tell Jeff. Oh, he sits up, thinking, he should ask about Chrissy. See if Jeff was right. All signs seem to be pointing that way.
He opens his mouth to ask when there's a knock at the door.An aggressive knock. More like someone pounding and trying to get in.
Eddie's up in a flash, but when he gets to the living room Wayne is near the door, his hand held out to Eddie, stopping him.
"It's not Hopper." Wayne mouths, and that's when Eddie sees the gun in his hand. Wayne's old shotgun. He'd only seen it once. When he turned 17, Wayne showed him where it was, and how to load and use it, in case of emergencies only.
Eddie's body tenses, his hands curled into fists at his sides. He can hear the shower running behind him. Hopes Steve is listening too.
"Open the door Munson! I know you've got him in there!" Hargove's taunting voice calls. A shiver runs down Eddie's spine, he shakes his head instinctively. He sees Wayne do the same. His uncle waves him down again, his palm held out towards Eddie, he lowers it slowly: stay calm. Eddie nods.
Wayne opens the door, keeps his shotgun hidden off to the side.
"Ain't nobody here but us. I think you should leave. We don't want any trouble." Wayne tells him calmly, his voice steady as he clicks the saftey off the gun in his hand. Eddie's breathing is shallow. He hears a snort from outside.
"Yeah right. You're Munson's. All you know is trouble. And you stepped in it big this time." Hargrove snarls.
"Now hand over that fuckin monster you got in there. And maybe I won't teach that little freak of yours a lesson for takin what's mine."
Eddie watches Wayne's knuckles go white where they're holding the door, watches the door shake as he grips it tight.
"Police are already on their way boy. You best be on yours before you get hurt." Wayne's voice is still calm. Too calm. Eddie's never heard him sound that way before. He can feel the anger just beneath the surface, his anger boils there too.
Wayne starts to say something else when Hargrove jumps forward, slams his body against the door, almost through it. Wayne stumbles backward, caught off guard just enough for Hargrove to get the drop on him. He grabs Wayne's arm, tugs him forward and headbutts him.
Eddie's stomach twists at the sound, as he watches Wayne fall to the floor. He knows he can't get to the gun. But Hargrove could. Doesn't seem to care about it though. His eyes land on Eddie, cold and empty, his jaw clenched. Eddie turns, makes for his bedroom. He feels Hargrove's hand slam down on his shoulder and screams.
"Steve help m-" Billy's knuckles slam into his cheek, he feels his lip split when his face hits the ground. Feels Hargrove move over him, and then away. His shadow there and then gone, quick as a flash. Eddie looks up, hears a low growl, and sees Hargrove against the wall, his feet almost a foot above the ground, Steve's clawed hand around his throat, holding him there.
His mouth is full of fangs again, his skin covered in fur now, not completely, just a thin layer, and his eyes seem to glow in the low light of the trailer. Eddie scrambles to his knees, hears another growl.
"Touch him again and I willl rip you apart." The words rumble deep in Steve's chest. Hargrove chokes and gags as Steve squeezes him tighter.
"Sounds like a great plan kid. But how bout you let me handle the rest huh?" A new voice. Eddie startles, tries too fast to turn and ends up on his back. Footsteps approach him and he's look up at Sheriff Hopper.
"You alright kid?" He asks, Eddie nods, his chest clenches.
"My uncle-"
"Already back on his feet kid. C'mon." Hopper extends his hand. Eddie takes it, lets the big man yank him to feet easily. Eddie suspects he may be a wolf himself. Or something else.
"Steve. Let him go." Hopper says, slow, like he's talking Steve down. He still has Hargrove against the wall, he's only wearing the boxers Eddie gave him. His skin is all skin again, but his claws are still out, his fangs pushing at his lips, his chest is heaving.
Eddie watches Hopper move toward him, Steve growls, low in his throat, Hargrove struggles as his fingers tighten, Hopper stops.
"Hey. Kid. I know. Alright. I get. He hurt your friend."
Another low growl, deeper, more feral, Steve's brow furrows.
"Oh. Shit. Okay." Hopper sighs, glances at Eddie.
"You're okay right?" He asks, leaning into Eddie's space a bit, Eddie thinks he sniffs him.
"Yeah. I'm okay. I'm good." Eddie nods, his eyes going back to Steve when Hopper's do.
"Your boys okay. Just a split lip. Nothin serious. He's okay." Hopper reassures, takes a few small steps forward. Steve twitches with each one. His grip on Hargrove's throat still tight.
"Steve I'm okay. You can let go now." Eddie tries. He watches the muscles in Steve's arm relax, but only a little. Eddie shakes his head, makes a decision. He steps forward, dodges Hopper when he reaches for him.
"Kid don't-"
"It's fine." Eddie dismisses. He walks up to Steve, gets close, Eddie moves his hand over his arm slowly, letting Steve feeling him.
"I'm right here. I'm okay." He soothes, fingers pressing into Steve's hot skin. But it works, his body relaxes, he loosens his hold on Hargrove, lets him slide down the wall til his feet touch the floor, but doesn't let go.
"Fuckin'... freak." Hargrove gasps, glaring at Eddie, eyes full of hate.
"Shut up." Eddie and Steve speak in unison, but Steve yanks him forward, then slams him back. His head hits the wall and Steve lets him go. He falls to floor, unconscious.
Steve turns to Eddie then, teeth too big for his mouth. His lips pushed out in a pout around his fangs, and he whines, his hand lifting to touch Eddie's lip, his claws receding back into his nails before his fingers touch Eddie.
He licks the blood from Eddie's lip off his fingers and then grabs for him, pulling him against his chest with a whine, clinging to him as he nuzzles into Eddie's neck. Eddie gulps, wraps his arms around Steve slowly, awkwardly, does his best to hold on. To soothe him.
Once Steve's calmed a bit he pulls back. Eddie looks down, Billy's body is gone. He turns to look behind him, Wayne and Hopper are sitting on the couch, watching some old movie. Eddie's brow furrows. How fucking long had Steve been holding onto him?
"Sorry. I didn't mean to, like, trap you." Steve clears his throat. Eddie turns back to him, he looks embarrassed. Eddie smiles, cups his cheek.
"It isn't a trap if it's somewhere I wanna be. Is it?" Steve looks uncertain for a moment, his eyes darting around Eddie's face, looking for something, Eddie's sure. He either finds, or doesn't, because he smiles so brightly it nearly blinds Eddie.
"Really?" He asks, his fingers twitching at his sides.
"Yeah. Kinda had a crush on you since like, fuckin forever. Seventh grade or something stupid." Eddie shrugs.
"Fifth grade." Wayne calls from the couch, Eddie rounds on him, he hadn't even looked away from the tv.
"Oh my god what does it matter! Bud out would you? I'm having a moment!" Eddie hisses, watches Wayne smile into his cup of coffee. He opens his mouth to snark some more but Steve's hand turning his face back to him stops him.
"Fifth grade?" Steve asks. Eddie rolls his eyes, sighs, nods.
"Yeah."
"Wha- Why?"
"You gave me a rock." Eddie huffs, bites into his lip.
"I gave you..." Steve gasps, his hands moving to Eddie's waist and tugging.
"I gave you a rock!" He says, excited. Eddie nods.
"I know. I was there." He rolls his eyes, teasing. Steve looks at him, for a long moment.
"Did you keep it?" He sounds so hopeful. Behind them, Wayne snorts and then clears his throat. Eddie groans, loud, and long. Wayne and Hopper both chuckle.
"Of course I kept it. I'm a big gay loser and a pretty boy gave me a rock. It's on my nightstand." Eddie admits, his shoulder sagging in defeat.
But then Steve is nuzzling against his cheek and he decides he doesn't care if he's a loser. That pretty boy was a werewolf, and apparently this werewolf thinks of Eddie as his. And he could definitely get used to that.
"You kept it." Steve hums, presses his nose into Eddie's throat and nearly fucking purrs with delight, his chest rumbling against Eddie's, making his heart flutter.
"Alright kid. We gotta get this sorted. Get that bullet. We'll get this delt with. And you can come back here and... well you can come back here. The rest is none of my business." Hopper declares, clapping his hands once, as he stands and moves to the door.
Steve pulls back, nods, and ducks back into the bathroom. Eddie brings him some clothes and then he's gone. Riding away in Hoppers cruiser, an unconscious Billy Hargrove in the backseat, bound and gagged, for good measure.
Wayne moves to stand beside him as he watches them drive away. His arm wraps around Eddie's shoulders and tugs him close.
"Rough day kid." Wayne says, giving him a squeeze.
"Yeah. Not all bad though." Eddie considers, drops his head on Wayne's shoulder.
"Definitely not. C'mon," Wayne gives his shoulder a pat.
"Let's get this house cleaned up before your boy gets back."
Eddie nods, follows him back inside, and starts cleaning. There's woodchips all over the hallway, Steve had shattered the door coming out to help Eddie and Wayne. Eddie suppresses a shiver at the thought.
But has trouble not thinking about the way Steve had been so mad because Billy had hurt him, hurt Eddie. Not his friend. He'd been mad about that word too. Not his friend. Just his.
Eddie swept the floor and tidied his room and let the feeling of being Steve's surround him. Let it fill his head and his chest. Let it lift him up off the floor, his body floating when he finally fell into bed to wait for Steve. His Steve.
~°~
Eddie wakes to gentle hands on his shoulder. He lets go of his pillow and rolls to find Steve, on his knees on the matress behind him. He scrambles to sitting, hands reaching for Steve, met with Steve's own out stretched hands.
"You came back." Eddie mumbles, still drowsy. Steve smiles, soft.
"Course I did. Nowhere else I'd rather be." He whispers, presses forward, his face so so close.
"Can I kiss you?" He asks, Eddie feels his breath rush over his skin.
"You want too?" Eddie asks, because his brain still hasn't quite caught up, isn't sure this isn't just a dream.
"Eddie." Steve says name the way no one ever has, all longing and need, curled at the edges from exasperation.
"Yeah Steve?" Eddie's trembling now, his hands shaking in his lap. Steve takes them in his, like he can read Eddie's mind.
"I've wanted to kiss you for awhile now. Even before I heard what you said at that party." Steve whispers the last bit, his mouth curving into a smirk, his eyes twinkling. Eddie's own eyes widen and then squeeze shut as he groans, takes his hands from Steve's and hides his face.
"You did hear me. I knew it oh my goooodddd." He rolls onto his back, rolling side to side on the bed, bumping Steve with his thighs everytime he rolls toward him. The laugh Eddie's dramtics pull out of Steve is beautiful, it makes Eddie feel like flying.
He drops his hands to his stomach and looks up at Steve. Steve looks right back, his eyes soft, his mouth curved just so in a small smile.
"I wanna kiss you so bad Steve." Eddie admits, his fingers drumming on his stomach. Steve's nose scrunches.
"Yeah? You sure?" Eddie tilts his head, trying to read the sudden change in Steve. His confidence seeming to fail him.
"Did you think I would genuinely say no to you?" Eddie asks, pushing himself up to sitting, so he can see Steve better. Steve picks at a loose thread on Eddie sheet, lifts one shoulder, drops it again.
"Who the fuck could say no to you?" Eddie wonders aloud, just a breathed out question.
"Not everyone can love a monster." The words fall past Steve's lips with sadness, his voice thick with it. Eddie's heart aches for him.
"Hey. You're not a monster." Eddie shakes his head, Steve levels him with such a bitchy look, it nearly takes Eddie's breath away. He snorts and holds up his hands in surrender.
"Okay. Okay tech-... technically you- you are a monster." Eddie rests his hands on Steve's knees.
"Like in the, literal, old movie wolfman monster, definition. Then yes. Sure. You're a monster." Eddie shrugs, shakes Steve's knees until he's wobbling back and forth with Eddie.
"But that doesn't mean you're a monster." Eddie shakes his head.
"And hey, even if you are. You've come to the right place. Eddie Munson, monster fucker extraordinaire!" He does a little jazz hands display before pointing at himself. He can see Steve fighting a smile.
"I mean not that I've... fucked a monster... before..." he trails off, eyes on the ceiling, thinking. He snaps his fingers, points at Steve.
"But I am willing! And hopefully," he wiggles his fingers in Steve's direction,
"Able." He smiles awkwardly, his eyes dropping to Steve's crotch and then back up, his cheeks flushing when Steve raises his eyebrows at him.
"Willing and able. That's me." Eddie points both his thumbs at himself, Steve's lip twitches. Eddie clasps his hands in front of him.
"Please say something so I can stop talking." Eddie begs through a helpless breathy laugh. Steve drags his teeth over his lower lip and shakes his head slowly, moves closer, presses into Eddie's space.
"No... you're not gonna say anything? Or no... umm... wh- what did I say after that?" Eddie stammers as Steve keeps moving, one hand on Eddie's chest, pressing him back into the matress, the other ending up near Eddie's head, supporting Steve as he hovers over Eddie.
"I like when you talk." Steve says, tossing his leg over Eddie, sitting on his thighs. Eddie nods, feeling a little frantic.
"Oh well thats good. Cuz I'm notorious for not knowing when to shut the fuck up. Now being one of those times I fear. Pretty sure. My mouth literally will not stop moving." The nervous laugh that comes out of him just makes Steve smile more, but it's different, sharp at the edges. Eddie realizes what the look is and gulps, Steve leans over him, chest to chest now, nose to nose. He looks hungry.
"I'm almost certain I can find something that will shut you up." Steve fucking purrs, his finger dragging down over Eddie's lips, his hand moving to cup Eddie's cheek. Eddie's eyes flick down between them and then back up.
"I mean we gotta try right? There's gotta be somethin- mmphf! Mmmm." Steve kisses him, presses his lips to Eddie's like he's trying to swallow his words. Eddie hums into it, hands moving to Steve's neck, his shoulders, his back. His hands move everywhere, feather light touches, not sure where to land. Steve pulls back, rests his forehead against Eddie's.
"I really like you." He sighs, his eyes squeezed tight, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath he takes. Eddie watches him, eyes closed, trying to stay calm.
"I really like you too. That's why I kept the rock. And the bird you drew me in seventh grade." Steve's eyes open, he looks down at Eddie, brow furrowing.
"And the poem you wrote  freshman year, about wanting to be a wolf." Eddie leans up, presses his lips to Steve's forhead.
"Kinda cheated on that one didn't ya?" Eddie whispers, wraps his arms around Steve as he settles in his lap. Steve gasps when Eddie kisses down his neck.
"I kept the sweatshirt you gave me at the football game too.Sophomore year. It's tucked away in my closet." He kisses back up, eyes closing on a hum as Steve pushes his hands up under Eddie's shirt, needing to touch him.
"I used to take it out and just hold it. And smell it. But it stopped smelling like you. Years ago." Eddie breathes against his lips, Steve whimpers into his mouth.
"I like you so much." Eddie whispers, pressing a kiss to Steve's lips.
"You being a werewolf isn't gonna change that." He kisses Steve's cheeks, his left one twice, once for each freckle.
"If anything, it will make my feelings, monumentally stronger. Like it'll be disconcerting. It's gonna make people uncomfortable." He kisses Steve's eyelids as he laughs, squirms in Steve's arms when his hands work their way into the back of his pajama pants.
"I'm gonna be obsessed with you." Eddie whispers, kissing down Steve's nose and across his lips again. Steve whines again, chases his lips, Eddie puts two fingers across them, to shush him, groans when Steve pulls them into his mouth and sucks, his cheeks hollowing as he blinks at Eddie, eyes hooded and needy.
"Jesus okay. There's is- there is a 'but' coming." Eddie gasps, Steve smirks around his fingers but lets them go.
"What's the but?" Steve asks, pouting as he moves his hands up Eddie’s back again. Eddie snorts and kisses his cheek again.
"I just-" he stops, takes a deep breath. His stomach twisting. He feels Steve's hand on his chest and opens his eyes, Steve tilts his head like a puppy.
"Your hearts beating fast again." He says, quiet, like he's talking to himself.
"I'm nervous." Eddie says, straight to the point. Steve tilts his head the other way.
"Nervous to be with me?" Steve's thumb soothes over Eddie's chest, through his shirt.
"Nervous cuz- I've never done this." Eddie bites his lip.
"I kinda figured you were a virgin ya know." Steve shrugs, noses at Eddie's neck. Eddie puts his hands on Steve's chest and pushes him back genlty.
"Umm... excuse me?" Eddie scoffs, a smile tugging at his lips.
"What? Virgins smell different." Steve says, like it's a normal thing to say.
"Ew. What? Why?" Eddie asks, his fingers tangling in Steve shirt as he laughs, his arms winding around him and pulling him closer.
"Dunno. Never asked. It's just true. You smell so good anyway but that part," Steve shivers, looks down at him.
"It's just sweet. You smell sweet." Steve smiles down at him, kisses his cheek, runs his fingers over the spot after.
"Okay well, that's all... a lot of information. But what I meeeeant," Eddie drawls, poking Steve in the chest.
"Is that I've never been in a relationship before. Like, not a real one. Not like this. And I'm just scared I guess. Cuz you're like, a fucking dream." Eddie sighs, Steve smiles.
"And I have a very long history of categorically fucking up everything good that happens to me. And I don't wanna do that here. With you. I want-" Eddie frowns, Steve moves, pulls them to the bed and rolls them, so they're facing each other.
"What do you want?" Steve asks, his fingers moving over Eddie's forhead, soothing the frown and then moving into his hair.
"I want you. I want to keep you." Eddie worries at his lip, Steve moves his thumb over it, drags it from between Eddie's teeth and soothes over the hurt.
"I wanna keep you too. We don't have to do anything right now. I just needed to be with you. After today." Steve says, shrugs his shoulder and curls closer.
"We can just- do this? Just be together?" Eddie asks, hesitant, his eyes falling closed as Steve hums,
"Mhm. We can just hold each other." Steve moves his fingers deeper into Eddie's hair, pulls him to his chest. Eddie clings to him, arms wrapped tight, hears that fucking rumble in Steve's chest again.
"Are you actually purring or does it just sound like it?" Eddie mumbles sleepily into Steve's chest. He feels him laugh, feels him pull Eddie impossibly closer.
"Hopper refuses to call it that. But I like it. I've only done it once before today though." Steve sighs, Eddie perks up, rests his chin on his arms and looks at Steve.
"When was the other time?" Eddie asks, eyes blinking slowly. Steve reaches up, tucks Eddie's hair behind his ear.
"With my friend Robin. You know her. From band." Eddie nods. Steve nods back.
"Yeah well. I came out to her last year and she was so excited, and happy, and accepting. She made me a cake. I mean it was terrible. But she made it just for me." Steve laughs, Eddie smiles down at him, waiting for more.
"And after, she told me she was proud of me. And that she loved me. And that's when it happened. I think it happens when you find your people. Like, my wolf just knows, when it's right." Steve's eyes won't stay on him, and he looks nervous again.
"She's like your platonic soulmate huh?" Eddie asks, pushing his finger around Steve's chest, drawing little nothings here and there. But he feels the tension leave Steve, feels him relax underneath him.
"Yeah. She is." He nods, eyes locked on Eddie now, his are shining with tears. Eddie nods, scoots a little closer, further up Steve's chest.
"I have one too. Jeff. He's in Hellfire with me. We're like two trippy peas in a far out pod." Steve scrunches his nose, lifts his head and kisses Eddie, sweet and soft.
"Thanks for understanding." Steve breathes.
"Sure. Give me enough time and I can understand anything. That ones easy though. I'm glad you have someone like that too." Eddie drops back down onto Steve's chest, gets comfy.
An hour later Steve manhandles him onto his side and presses up against his back, arms wrapped around Eddie like vines, keeping him close. Eddie shivers at being tossed around, even more at being held like he's something precious. He feels Steve smirk into his neck, feels that rumble again.
He smiles into Steve's arm, presses his lips to his skin and lets himself fall asleep, feeling loved, and wanted, and like he belongs to someone.
~°~
Eddie finds out later that Jeff was right. Chrissy absolutely is a vampire. And a good friend of Steve's. Eddie, Steve, and Robin may or may not parent trap them into several ridiculous situations before Chrissy finally tells them her and Jeff have been dating for almost three weeks now.
Eddie swears he knew. Steve can hear him lying. But let's him have it anyway. Robin refuses to let it go and constantly claims that the first time she meddled was three weeks ago which means she got them together which means she wins the bet.
Eddie remains unaware that there was even an actual bet going on. He just thought they were trying to make their friends happy. Steve can hear him telling the truth, and loves him for it.
Steve holds Eddie close almost every night, so so glad he heard Eddie talking at that party. And so so glad he'd told Robin, two weeks before that party, that he was gonna ask Eddie out. That he wanted to keep him forever.
She'd made fun of him of course. Eddie Munson? Really? But Steve had pressed on. Something about that sweet smell drawing him in.
And even after Steve claims him. Even after Eddie is his and no one elses. To Steve, he still smells so sweet, like the first rain of spring. Likes Steve's favorite fruit. Like Steve's. Like home.
831 notes · View notes
bixels · 8 months
Text
Now that Ghibli's new movie is coming out soon, I've been thinking about anime films and wanna talk about my favorite animated movie ever, Tokyo Godfathers.
Tumblr media
TG is a 2003 tragicomedy by Satoshi Kon, following three unhoused people––an alcoholic, a runaway girl, an a trans woman––who find a baby in a dumpster and set off across Tokyo to reunite her with her parents.
If you like the sound of that, go watch it because the rest of this post is spoilers and I have FEELINGS about this movie.
URGHH, the fact that only two moments of true kindness, generosity, and care given to the three protagonists without any expectation of reciprocity are given by a Latin-American immigrant couple and a drag show club full of trans women. The fact that, despite her loud and dramatic personality, Hana is the glue that holds the team together and the heart of the whole movie. The fact that this movie pulls no punches at showing the violence and inhumanity committed by "civilized Japanese society" against the unhoused. The fact that Miyuki craves to be loved by her parents and ends up seeing Hana as her true mother. The fact that Miyuki starts off accidentally using transphobic language against Hana, but slowly begins calling her "Miss Hana" out of respect. The fact that, according to Kon, Hana's role in the story is as a mythological trickster god and "disturb the morality and order of society, but also play a role in revitalizing culture." The fact that Hana so desperately wants to be part of a true family, yet is willing to sacrifice her found family so they can be with their own, and is rewarded for her good deeds in the end by becoming a godmother. The fact that, throughout the movie, wind and light have been used to signify the presence of god's hand/influence (this movie's about nondenominational faith––faith in yourself, faith in others, faith in a higher power. Lots of religious are referenced, such as Buddhism/Hinduism, Christianity, and Shintoism), and in the climax of the film, as Hana jumps off a building to save a baby that isn't hers, a gust of wind and a shower of light save her from death. The fact that god saves a trans woman's life because she proved herself a mother, and that shit makes me CRY.
2K notes · View notes
mischievousspooks · 29 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
He brought home a heat lamp.
500 notes · View notes
sbeana · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
im so normal about them
7K notes · View notes
cupophrogs · 2 months
Text
The Three D's
Tumblr media
(Click for better quality)
I have a horrible habit of dropping any series-comics I try to make, so I thought it'd do a little story-ish ask event!!
So far, we've got the three D's: Dogday, Daddy Long Legs, and Drew.
Basic info and closeups!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Drew, he/him, 18 yrs: the horror-loving nephew of an old Playtime Co. employee. Squawks like a strangled bird when surprised.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Daddy Long Legs, aka: "Pops:" If you could find a loving father from the 20s who wasn't a misogynist. Misses his wife, but doesn't blame Drew for her death.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Dogday, aka: "Deedee" or "Dogs:" The last, overly traumatised Smiling Critter who really needs a hug. Drew found him some spare legs in a closet somewhere.
Without dirt and grime:
Tumblr media
462 notes · View notes