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#IM SO SORRY BUT THIS NEEDS A PART 3
hatelangdon · 7 months
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Promise Ring.
Pt 2 of this fic/ 1.4k words.
(Franken!Kyle x Witch!Reader)
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Slight angst, Hurt/comfort, & fluff
(🚨Warnings: Talks of Fever, Being sick, Crying, Screaming, Possible panic attack🚨)
Summary: After removing Kyle from his problematic situation with Madison, You notice that the poor zombie has also developed some kind of sickness, possibly from the neglect he experienced in the midst of his heartbreak. He has become your "responsibility" so you take care of him and show him a kindness and gentleness that he hasn't experienced before.
(A/N: ...This is very long, I am so sorry but I absolutely love sick!hurt/comfort and I got a lil carried away because Kyle is my sweet angel and I would feel so bad if he didn't feel good, because he definitely doesn't understand why :(....also y'all are going to jump me but there's going to be a part 3 🤓☝🏾 that will be actually taking care of Kyle because I know that is what ya'll want. )
Also, this is not proofread i'm sorry, but once again...Kim, there's people that are dying.
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You had put Kyle to bed in your room, he didn't protest much.
Your bedding was very soft, and the sheets smelled of you and lavender pillow spray.
You already had him lying down, piling your purple weighted blanket over his body, which surprised him but he remained calm.
"Are you alright? Do you need anything?" You moved some of his hair from his face, he suddenly grabbed your hand which slightly scared you, but he was gentle.
He pressed your hand up against his face, right on the scar under his right eye from the accident, he looked up into your eyes lovingly.
"y/n t-t-thank you"
"You're welcome Kyle, I know it can be hard sometimes. You've gone through a lot, honey." You gave him a encouraging boop on the nose.
He blinked twice at you, probably trying to decipher what you were feeling, but he knew that you called him honey and honey was good so he smiled, pressing your palm to his dimpled cheek, you could tell that he was getting sleepy from the way he completely squished his face into your hand and how slowly he was blinking.
"Go to sleep Kyle, I'm right here for you."
He nodded, his eyes closing almost obediently.
Once you were sure that he was asleep from his soft breathing, you moved yourself into your papasan chair in the corner, you wanted Kyle to be as comfortable as possible and have a bed to himself.
There was already a blanket in the chair, so you wrapped it around yourself, it was pretty comfy, you'd fallen asleep in in a dozen times before.
You turned off the lamp that illuminated the room in warm white lighting, and slowly found yourself drifting into unconsciousness.
3:42 a.m.
You were woken from your sleep by a shift of weight on top of your body.
You almost freaked out, thinking sleep paralysis had gotten ahold of you, but you were surprised by soft tufts of blonde hair tickling your face, and warm skin against your chest.
Kyle had balled himself in your lap, his arms completely wrapped around your torso, and his head lying on your chest it didn't look like a comfortable position, considering he was much taller than you and practically slipping off the chair.
"Kyle?" You rubbed him on his back gently, trying to wake him up.
He must've been already awake, because you were immediately met with a long groan.
"What are you doing? Why aren't you in the bed?"
"Comfort." he whispered
You cooed, feeling your heart flutter
"Well wouldn't you be more comfortable in the bed?"
He shook his head
"Want...y-you." He said it like it was the plainest thing in the world
You felt your face heat up.
"Well cmon, you can still be with me but let's get in bed. You're falling off the chair Ky."
He grunted, his grip around you tightened
"I'll lay with you, we're just gonna get back in bed okay?"
Kyle sighed and groaned, like the moody baby he was...but he obliged, standing up. His eyes were squinted from the tiny bits of morning light coming through the curtains
You guided him to the bed laying down first, patting a spot for him to lay in your arms.
He immediately crawled into your embrace, letting out a sigh of relief as you wrapped your body around his. You pressed your head into the back of his neck, feeling the warmth radiating.
"Try to get some sleep, Kyle. Alright?"
By the time you had got your words out you could already hear soft snores coming from his lips
5:56 a.m.
The second time you woke up, was from Kyle tossing and turning in his sleep.
At first you thought he was having another nightmare but his face was red and you could feel the heat radiating off of his skin so it seemed like there was something more.
"Kyle, wake up. It's okay you're just having a bad dream."
You tapped him on his chest, trying to wake him up.
He Immediately sat up, hyperventilating and sobbing, his head felt like it was pulsating and he could feel his racing heartbeat in his ears, he wasn't recognizing his surroundings at first, he was scared.
You reached out to comfort him, placing a hand gently on his shoulder.
"Kyle, what's wron-"
He, threw your hand off of him, and jumped out of the bed.
"NO!"
He was having one of his "fits" Kyle often didn't know how to process his emotions when he was upset, he had lost his sense of emotional regulation and his ability to communicate when Zoe and Madison brought him back.
"NO! NO! NO!"
He grabbed the lamp on your nightstand and threw it to the ground, the glass going everywhere
"KYLE NO, STOP," you grabbed his arm to stop him breaking anything else "you're okay! You're okay! You're not in any danger!" you turned him to look at you, you could tell his eyes were pleading for some sense of understanding, while his brain worked at a million miles a minute trying to connect his pain and confusion to a reason besides anger and a imminent threat.
After a couple of seconds he recognized you as a safe face. He looked around at what he did, all of the glass on the floor and your worried face.
Tears started falling from his eyes, and he reached out to you, he needed touch.
"Kyle, oh come here." You hugged him right away, crossing the sea of glass in your crocs.
"I understand you're upset angel. Come sit down, be careful." You guided him back over to the bed, making sure he didn't cut his feet.
He was completely red in the face, and the tears just wouldn't stop. He was crying so hard, that it looked painful.
"Kyle, I think you're sick baby. You don't feel good do you? It's okay to not feel good, we can fix it."
His big, teary, brown eyes peered into yours as he blinked slowly, not understanding.
"Can I touch you Kyle? Is that alright?"
He hesitated for a second before nodding. You felt his forehead, and he practically melted into your touch which was a relief to his warm skin, he definitely had a fever.
"Does it hurt in here?" You tapped his forehead and he nodded
"Okay, can you show me if it hurts anywhere else?"
He motioned to his stomach patting it, as well as his back, he was finally feeling understood by someone.
You nodded, patting his head to signify that you understood him.
"You're sick Kyle, but that's alright. I'll take care of you. That just means that your body needs some time to calm down and fight something that's not supposed to be in there."
He didn't fully understand what you were talking about, but he trusted that you knew what would make him better.
He always thought you were so smart, even when Zoe was around he noticed how kind you were and how you always seemed to have answers.
"Alright, first things first! I gotta clean up this glass, stay here and lay down." You rubbed his cheek.
Just the notion of you leaving him, made him cry harder as he grabbed onto your arm.
"Kyle, I'm not gonna leave you, I'm not" you shushed him "I'm coming right back, I promise"
He wasn't letting up Zoe had said those same words to him, and she walked straight out of his life after promising that she would be in it forever.
"listen, I take promises very seriously," you gently kissed his forehead and removed one of your rings from your finger. It was silver, and heart shaped with a rose quartz stone "This is the ring my best friend gave me before I had to leave my town," you pressed it into his hand "as long as I'm gone, you get to keep it, that's how you know I'm coming back. It's very important to me, and so are you."
Kyle just stared at the ring, it was very pretty.
"You are important to me"
he understood that enough to let you go.
(Pt 3)
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stevebabey · 1 year
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no one asked but this is the post that inspired this! thank u immensely for the luv <3 number 1 comment was wondering what steve’s bids were & from his pov, so without further ado...enjoy — part one here!
Begrudgingly, Eddie has to admit that Robin might be right.
It’s impossible not to be looking for the bids since he brought them up to her. Even though Eddie was fully expecting to tell Robin to suck it, maybe even wager what little money he had against this working out, Eddie can’t help but watch for them in every interaction. And fuck, she’s right.
They’re little, but they’re there.
The first one Eddie would’ve missed if he wasn’t looking for it. Actually, that’s a lie; Eddie does miss it, until Robin points it out, the nosy bitch. It’s minuscule and honestly, it just seems like Steve asking his opinion — which friends do all the time! It’s why Eddie brushes right over it.
“Okay, be honest,“ Steve had said, walking and talking as he entered the living room where Robin and Eddie were sprawled across the couches. They were both waiting on him, the three of them set on heading out to the drive-in to catch a film.
Eddie can’t fathom why Steve felt the need to change his outfit for it, but when he returns, he gets it. It’s not quite the usual polo Eddie had grown to like on Steve, this one hanging a little looser, the colour a bit darker than Steve’s usual choice, the sleeves a little shorter — almost midway to a muscle tee.
Steve’s fingers fiddle with the distressed collar of the shirt, smoothing invisible wrinkles and fussing over nothing. He swishes back his floppy hair with a flick of his head. “It’s a new shirt, I know it’s a little different - but what do we think?”
He says we but he’s looking at Eddie.
Eddie, who has taken to trying to reel in his gawp because what the fuck Steve? It’s like he’s well aware of what drives Eddie insane and has specifically leaned into it. Some evil goblin in Eddie’s brain whispers think how good he’d look in your shirt and he squashes it, giving a visible twitch to shut down that train of thought.
From the other couch, Robin clears her throat loudly and smiles sweetly at her best friend. “It looks great, Steve.”
It’s sincere and Steve’s mouth tugs up, nearly a smile but his gaze fast-tracks back to Eddie. Eddie nods in agreement, a bit sluggish from his distracting thoughts and god dammit, the extra exposed skin of Steve’s arms are so not helping. “Yeah, looks... looks good, man.”
Steve smiles, lips pressed together but his shoulders curl in just a bit, deflating just a tad. From where Steve can’t see her, Robin waves her hands wildly and catches Eddie’s attention. He watches as she gestures wildly and it takes a moment to realise what’s she mouthing — ‘A bid! That’s a bid, you idiot!’
Oh fuck, Eddie thinks. Cos it totally was; the question, the focus on Eddie. He doesn’t even think about the logistics of it, of the fact Robin was right, just jumps right into picking up the bid.
“You trying a new style?” Eddie asks and then thanks whatever god invented the whole fake-it-to-you-make-it schtick because he’s feeling so far from casual or confident. “Going metal on me, big boy?”
Eddie just manages to catch the grin that breaks across Steve’s face as he turns away, giving a scoff — it comes out too soft though, giving away his complete lack of annoyance. He pulls that usual Steve Harrington pose, hands sliding onto his hips, and screws his face into some melted smiley-grimace. “Shut up, Munson.”
Eddie grins and goads on the blush that’s beginning on Steve’s neck, a glorious tinged pink colour. “If this shirt is any indication, you’d pull it off just fine.”
Eddie watches the blush climb higher as Steve ignores the comment, his smile still giving him away. He grabs his coat and pats down his jeans — ridiculous tight acid wash jeans that Eddie hates he’s somehow become attracted to — ensuring he has his keys and wallet. Once assured, he looks up at his two friends again, brows raised, and says, “Ready to rock and roll?”
That comment alone has Eddie seriously reconsidering his type in men.
There’s only a brief moment to talk about it when Eddie and Robin cajole Steve into going and getting them both popcorn to get a moment alone. Steve had scoffed, face twitching in the way it did whenever he tried to hold back a bitchy comment, but he still stomped off in the direction of the snack stand.
The moment he’s out of earshot, both voices explode in the back of Eddie’s van.
“What did I say—”
“Jesus H Christ, you were right—”
“Literally how many times do I have—”
“Oh my god, you were right—”
“ —before you realise I’m always—”
“Robin.” He cuts her off, hands landing on her shoulders. Robin eyes them warily, lips still parted from how her rant had been cut off. “Robin, I’m gonna kill you.”
“What?” Robin’s nose scrunches up. “What the hell are you—”
“Oh Christ, I can’t believe- how long have you noticed those bids?” Eddie’s aware he sounds a bit estranged, eyes probably wide and it doesn’t help when he softly shakes Robin back and forth. She lets herself be shaken, hair flying back in forth. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! You are such a bad gay friend!”
Robin smacks his hands off her shoulders with a frown, her freckly face perturbed at Eddie’s outburst. “Dude, it’s not my fault! May I remind you that until very very recently you were seeing someone else? What difference would it have made?”
Eddie waves his hand, disregarding the point with a shake of his head. His unkempt curls cover his face and Eddie sweeps them back in one motion, “What difference would it have made? Oh my, Jesus—“
Whatever long-winded sentence Eddie was about to spit out is lost by the sound of Steve’s approaching footsteps, effectively shutting both of them up.
Eddie flings himself to the other side of the van, putting an unusual amount of distance between Robin and him like they were being caught doing something they shouldn’t.
Robin frowns at him and gestures wildly with her hands in a way that means what the fuck man? Eddie gestures back, though he’s not entirely sure what his fast hand motions are supposed to mean when Steve rounds the door.
He’s got two buckets of popcorn tucked under each arm and Eddie quickly crosses his arms, tucking his hands into his armpits like his stupid hand motions will somehow give him away. 
Steve looks up, stopping just a way from the edge of the van, and looks at the pair of them. His eyes track from Robin still sitting on one of the old cushions and looking two seconds from burying her face in her hands, across to Eddie. He huffs a laugh and kneels on the edge of the van.
“I know he’s gross Robin,” He begins, tone light, as he holds out one of the buckets for Robin to take. “But c’mon, is the distance really necessary?”
Robin snickers as Eddie makes an appalled noise, both of which make Steve smirk. He holds out the other for Eddie to take and Eddie snatches it, glaring at him over the buttery rim for his comment. Then takes a handful and shovels it in because he can’t think of a witty comment to retaliate. Steve crawls into the van and plops himself between them with a content sigh.
“See? Gross.” He teases, shoving his hand into Eddie’s popcorn bucket to grab a handful. Eddie scowls and chews a little faster when the flavour on his tongue seems to register in his brain.
His eyes stare at the popcorn bucket as he chews, then swallows — up the front of the van, the radio that’s tuned into the correct frequency begins playing the opening credits song as the screen changes. Silence sweeps across the drive-in but despite the sudden hush, Eddie has no qualms about breaking it.
“Sweet n’ salty flavour?” He asks Steve, only half attempting a whisper. Robin shushes him instantly, her focus already on the movie that’s beginning. Steve smiles, looking a bit sheepish beneath the glow of the drive-in screen, but he nods.
“I know you like it.” He whispers with a small shrug of his shoulders. Like it wasn’t a big deal. Fuck, Eddie thinks again and hastily feeds himself another handful of popcorn before he says anything majorly stupid in response to that, like: Oh, amazing- have you noticed the big fat crush I have on you as well?
He doesn’t even need to look at Robin to know she’s smiling, smug as ever.
Steve, God bless his oblivious little heart, doesn’t even realise he’s doing it.
Steve likes Eddie. Eddie is— god, Eddie is different but he’s good.
He’s this strange amalgamation of traits that Steve can’t comprehend how they fit together in one body or how Eddie manages to pull it all off completely charmingly.
He’s loud, he says rude things, he’s fucking dorky, and far too sweet on the kids — he likes to tease Steve, and yet somehow, when Eddie calls him ‘pretty boy’, Steve knows he’s not actually making fun of him.
Steve likes Eddie, likes his boyishly endearing charm, likes his touchiness towards Steve that no other boy his age is like, likes his messy curls and his ‘holier than thou’ attitude about metal music even though Steve doesn’t get it, like at all. And fuck, Steve really wants Eddie to like him.
It reminds him faintly of when he first started working alongside Robin at Scoops. That thought tickles in the back of his mind, something along the lines of how he had wanted Robin to like him for other reasons, but he doesn’t delve into it.
To Steve, it’s simple: he just wants Eddie to like him.
After the night at the drive-in, between Eddie acting strangely skittish and Robin giving more amused snorts than usual, Steve knows something is up.
He knows they must have discussed something when they sent him on popcorn duty, the bastards. He tries his best to not feel left out; god knows Robin and he have more than a dozen secrets they’ve sworn not to tell anyone but each other.
Besides, Steve trusts Robin to come and tell him if he really needs to know, even if it does worry him a bit. He bites down his anxious thoughts, even trying for a moment to see if there’s a pattern he’s been missing.
That train of thought gets derailed when Steve recalls instead Eddie’s delightful reaction to his new shirt — that Steve definitely hadn’t bought for that specific reason.
Even though Robin had given him that look when he’d first shown it to her — her bright eyes had narrowed, her smile turning a little more coy, and Steve had felt his ears get a little hotter. She hadn’t said anything though, just suggested that he should wear it tomorrow night when they were going out with Eddie.
God, he was glad she suggested it.
Rewinding over Eddie’s parted lips, the way his brown eyes had drank in the details as they trailed up his body and lingered on his arms— Steve had the sudden thought to flex the muscle, just to elicit some reaction, but it had gone out the window at Eddie’s original dismal reaction.
‘Yeah, looks... looks good, man’. Said all aloof, like he hadn’t really thought it. It was like bursting a balloon hidden behind Steve’s ribs, one he wasn’t even aware was there until it was deflating pathetically, making his shoulders sag.
Then— ‘You trying a new style? Going metal on me, big boy?’ And dammit, it’s like Eddie had clocked exactly what calling him ‘big boy’ had done the first time in the Winnebago.
Eddie had then grinned, done another once over of the new shirt, even as Steve pretended to search for his keys and wallet while saying something snarky to try to cover up the heat crawling up his neck. Yet, Steve found himself smiling too because, fuck yes, Eddie liked it too.
But, apparently, whatever Eddie and Robin had discussed wasn’t considered important enough because Robin never brought it up.
The thought and worry about it melt away in Steve’s mind until the memory of that night is about Eddie’s compliment, about his cat-like grin over the popcorn bucket, and how he had leaned over to whisper every bad joke into Steve’s ear all through the movie.
Some of them had been down-right filthy jokes which Eddie only seemed to enjoy more when Steve screwed his face up and nudged Eddie in the ribs, yet unable to hide his smile.
After the third vulgar joke and subsequent nudge, Steve had chided ‘dude’ with a poorly hidden grin. Eddie, smile all cheeky, had nudged him back with a ‘dude’ of his own.
Which, of course, ensued a nudge competition til Robin had given a shush that librarians all over the world would be jealous of. But Steve didn’t even care because he and Eddie were arm to arm, pressed close together and Eddie…didn’t move. Stayed close, like he wanted the closeness the same way Steve did.
Steve only remembers the strange drive-in moment when Robin brings it up finally, on one interesting Saturday night.
It’s not the usual routine; it’s not very often that the whole group gets together to share drinks and get rowdy.
But it was for Robin’s birthday and she’d been persuasive enough to get even the introverts, like Jonathan, to come along. Though, she was aware he’d probably spend the night on a pool lounger, stoned to high heaven. Whatever floats your boat, she’d said, happy for the company in any form.
There’s enough of them there that it almost resembles some sort of party— and makes Steve try not to think about the last small party he threw here. He can tell Nancy notices it too, eyeing the pool a bit too long in a way he’s very familiar with, then taking a swig of beer.
So, Steve heckles them inside — doing a fantastic mothering impression as he waves the group indoors with a promise of pizza, and that has both Jonathan and Argyle perking up and beginning a fast discussion on the best pizza toppings.
Eddie makes a fuss, because of course he does, and moans terribly when Steve tries to roll him off the pool lounger he’s on. He’s had a bit of a joint and some beer, and Steve’s learned that he gets adorably stubborn after some substances.
“Stevie, this is mean,” he had pouted, gripping the edges of the lounger and staring up at Steve with those big brown eyes. “You telling me I did all that bonding with you for nothing? Can’t even lounge by the pool! I’ve got a couch at homeeeee.”
Steve had sent him an amused look of disbelief, hands on his hips after his first round of flicks against Eddie’s arm were apparently fruitless to get him to move. “Really? Didn’t peg you for a gold-digger, Eds.”
Eddie had snorted at that, one hand coming to slap over his mouth. Steve couldn’t quite hear what he had said but the words pegging and anytime slipped through and Steve thinks he could get the gist of that.
“Oh for Christ’s sake,” Steve muttered, feeling the tips of his ears turn warm. He didn’t know how Eddie could be such a menace— or why he enjoyed it so much when he was. Steve waved a hand in the direction of the doors, ignoring Eddie’s delighted snickering. “If you go inside now, you can be on music, alright?”
And that had finally got them all indoors, Eddie whooping and skedaddling through the doors in an instant, with a call of ‘no take backsies!’ echoing behind him.
Inside was much cozier, the whole group a little more connected when squished up on the couches together. Eddie had taken Steve’s word and was jamming a cassette into one of the speakers when Steve made it back inside after scouting around the pool for leftover cans and butts to throw out.
He’s just been thinking about what playful jab he could make at Eddie’s music, like Eddie always did to him when Robin hollered at him from the kitchen.
“Steve!” She’d yelled excitedly and he come to find her quick, brows raised as he entered the kitchen. She was grinning, already a bit jumpy as she got when she had a bit of liquor — but apparently not enough because when Steve saw what she’d called him in for, she’d announced, “Tequila shots!”
Which lead to now. A hazy combination of beer, tequila, and a bit of weed, and Steve is feeling good. Robin had managed to hijack the music not too long ago, with a hiccup of ‘it’s my birthday’ that had Eddie surrendering with a pout.
She’d since put on a bit of everything: some Blondie for Nance, Talking Heads for Jonathan, and some Bowie, just so she and Steve could dance along to ‘Magic Dance’ and she could do all the silly little goblin voices that made them both cackle.
Steve realised at some point that Robin was playing their mixtape, the one she’d made for driving in the morning, and nearly tripped stumbling over to her in his excitement. He grabbed her shoulders, not too hard, and squeezed.
“Is it- is this our mixtape?” Steve asked, words slurring only a bit. Robin gleamed, hair bouncing with her excited nod.
“Yes!” She was already dancing, even though the tape was between songs — because she knew what song was coming. “It’s Springsteen time, Steve!”
Right as the drums to Born to Run filtered out the speaker.
And oh, Steve loves Robin so much. He loves having a best friend that knows his favourite song and gets jittery and excited because she knows it’s about to play— that she put it on this mix for him.
“You’re my best friend!” Steve says, the words bursting out like he can’t control them. He doesn’t even feel embarrassed, just happy, just drunk, and overwhelming happy to be able to have this.
And even though Robin knows this, she still beams, feet dancing along and just begins to sing along with the song, “In the days, we sweat it out on the streets of a runaway American dream…”
It’s a brazen drunken performance from the both of them. Steve’s chest is heaving after just one chorus that he’s pretty sure he put his whole soul into and he’s so fucking happy —and it feels like pure instinct to seek out Eddie, his eyes scouring the room for him.
Eddie’s leaned up against the wall, hiding his smile behind a can and Steve doesn’t think twice about it— doesn’t think about why he’s so drawn to Eddie, why he wants to include him in this happiness — just extends his hand out and grins.
Eddie sees the bid coming this time.
Part Three.
— 
yes i saw all ur lovely tags and MAYBE cried about it. but thats none of ur business.
@orangeandthefairroadkill @swimmingbirdrunningrock @sadcanadianwinter @phantypurple @omg-elledubs-things @henderdads @farfaras @mixsethaddams @prismandblue @kerlypride @bushbees @legitcookie @temporalcoffin @callmesirkay @beautifully-useless @millyditty @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @ninjapirateunicorns @darkwitchoferie @vi-the-best-you-can @psychosnowfox @desert-fern @scarletzgo @cr0w-culture @softpink-candlelight @livingforfictionalcharacters @makewavesandwar @kozuuji @rhapsodyinalto @eddiethesexy @cassaloopa @lightwoodbanethings @qu33rcommunist @moonlitkilljoy @starkdusk @theysherobinbuckley @sanguineterrain @loganwright @sillysparrow @hotcocoaharrington @eddie-munson-is-my-wife @she-is-tim @steddiehearts @sideblogofthcentury @sidebarre @corrodedcoughin @stevieclaus
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cuteiemonster · 11 months
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HI. IM PLAYING CATCH UP 24 DAYS LATER DONT MIND ME HERMIT A DAY DAY 1 - ETHOSLAB
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surreal-duck · 2 days
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Tuesday is chuu day! (x)
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An example of queercoding in Alhaitham and Kaveh's relationship: Madam Faruzan edition
Due to the rules in place for game development in China, the possibility for queer confirmation within Genshin Impact is denied, which therefore renders the usage of characters alluding to the potential romantic connection between two same-sex characters as impossible. However, the same insinuation can be made by omitting specific language which strictly conveys romantic sentiments, such as ‘couple’. Instead, the idea of secrecy or something unmentionable can be drawn upon as indicators, as this draws parallels to the taboo of homosexuality practiced within certain cultures and media forms, which the real world audience can identify.  
For example, Alhaitham and Kaveh as secret housemates. This can be used to convey an idea of ‘taboo’ as Kaveh desires to protect his reputation by concealing his shame of having to live with Alhaitham. In-game, the context here is that Kaveh wants to uphold his reputation of a successful architect, but within Alhaitham’s Story Quest, upon the player’s discovery of Kaveh living with Alhaitham, this context is omitted for some time. This prompts Paimon to question what exactly Alhaitham and Kaveh’s relationship is, with Kaveh denying that the two used to be friends but are not anymore: “I wouldn’t say ‘friends’ exactly”.
This tactic of double entendre can be seen again in A Parade of Providence when Paimon almost reveals Kaveh’s living situation to Faruzan.
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Faruzan’s can be observed to resort to a thinking pose, in comparison with Layla, when Alhaitham is mentioned in relation to Kaveh wanting to buy property, as Paimon almost ‘outs’ the truth, that Kaveh resides with Alhaitham.
She then seemingly dwells upon the subject, as she returns to it after Kaveh requests for a change of topic later in the conversation. Here, Faruzan follows up on whether Kaveh lives alone, which he fails to deny. 
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Here, it can be seen that she has already began associating Kaveh and Alhaitham, possibly speculating that the two live together. When Kaveh fails to supply an answer, therefore not denying her theory, she explicitly ties the two together, and asks if the two are “hiding” something.  
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This question evokes a physical reaction from Kaveh, as he denies this question out of fear of being revealed, with Paimon opting to leave in order to cover her role in revealing Kaveh’s predicament.  
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A deliberate potentiality has been created here in regard to what Faruzan has inferred, as her phrasing of “are you two hiding something from me?” is non-specific. Rather than asking: “are you two living together?”, she asks a question which holds multiple connotations. Due to the ambiguity of her meaning, her question can be observed as a non-explicit version of the: “are you two a couple?” question.
On the surface, this question is a reference to their situation as roommates, however, her phrasing is non-specific, and hints to another cause for “hiding” something. For Faruzan, Kaveh’s blatant evasion of the topic and dismissal of Alhaitham’s name, could easily be inferred as “hiding” a romantic connection – which is something that the player, too, can pick up on from her gesture of suspicion, her inquisitive questioning, and her excitement when piecing together the clues. The ambiguity of her question generates multiple meanings as to why she has surmised the two could be “hiding”.  
This overt secrecy in Kaveh’s living with Alhaitham, another man, prompts the player to generate associations between this in-game secrecy and real world queer shame. In this, there is an implication of the need for Kaveh to confirm the status of his relationship between him and Alhaitham. Not only does this scene connotate an ‘outing’, in which a queer character has their queerness forcibly revealed to a heteronormative audience, but this creates a sense of secrecy, which, again, can be interpreted by the player as ‘taboo’.  
Kaveh does not want to tell anyone of his living situation out of preserving his stellar reputation, however, Faruzan is missing this context. She relates Alhaitham and Kaveh together in the phrasing “you two”, coupling them together in a secret that they “hid[e]”. The player understands this as indicating to their living situation, however, this creates a separate context which Faruzan has interpreted and that, we, as the audience are not privy to, but can interpret based on her allusions to cohabitation between two men being a secret.
Whilst this is not explicitly romantic within Genshin’s world of nameless sexuality, Faruzan’s ambiguous questioning here draws parallels between real world understanding of sexuality and the connotations of queerness which stems from two men living together in secret. 
(Update: For more analyses like this, the essay this is taken from is now uploaded! It can be accessed here and here as as a pdf <3)
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fizzytoo · 2 months
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florence for @buttertrait's adventuring guild🫂 lycan battle smith artificer go grrrr
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lovesickeros · 4 months
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☆ decadence divine [ act I ]
{☆} characters arlecchino, neuvillette, furina {☆} notes yandere, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings yandere content, stalking (implied), kidnapping (implied) {☆} word count 2.3k
ARLECCHINO
Arlecchino was wont to leave social gatherings to her subordinates– the private meetings were where she thrived. It was so much easier to lure your prey into a trap when you didn't have prying eyes and ears waiting for the barest hint of blackmail.
She clicked her tongue in distaste, her eyes narrowing beneath the mask of the fox as she set down her cup sharply. It was difficult as it was to draw them from the safety of their bubble– at the slightest hint of danger, her quarry would run. A chase would be fun, but she couldn't risk getting caught here. The political nightmare it would cause..it already gave her a headache. She had to be discreet.
They weren't making it easy, however.
Which is why she never liked crowds. But this chance didn't come by every day. She wasn't going to simply let it pass by because of a little danger. She'd have them eventually, it was just a matter of how. There were already numerous of her own lingering in the crowds, hidden beneath the masks that every patron bore. It was difficult to stand out amongst the flurry of masked patrons constantly shifting around the room, moving from one conversation to another, gliding from one dance partner to another.
Her heeled boots clicked sharply against the tile as she stalked through the crowds, keeping a wide berth yet always lingering nearby– she was sure they could feel the vague sense of being watched, but with the huge crowds..her lips quirked into a grin with the barest flash of teeth. There were a great many ways to break them in– she'd spent a great amount of time and mora to get anything she could for blackmail, if she so wished. She had the backing of the Fatui as well if she played her cards right– it wouldn't be difficult to convince them that they were a valuable target, and none of them would dare to question just what she did with them afterwards.
Perhaps a bit of play, first. Test the waters. She was familiar with playing the polite gentleman, despite her status as a Fatui Harbinger. Stage something for her to intervene, perhaps, to look the hero. The look of shock when she revealed the wolf beneath the wool..she could see it already. That wide, doe-eyed look as they realized the monster they've followed blindly like a lost lamb..she was beginning to see the appeal.
All it took was a few hushed words and subtle signals before the tiles started to fall in place, her hand gliding along their lower back as she leaned over their shoulder with a thin, predatory smile. She'd have to organize for the agent to be released later, her eyes following as the Gardes dragged him out of the room in a flurry of curses, but for now..she tilted her head to peer down at them, polite and almost apologetic.
"You aren't too startled, are you? Now now, there's no need to look so..scared, poor thing. I won't let another lay a hand on you," She cooed in a sickly sweet tone, the husky rasp of her voice whispered in their ear like dripping honey. "You have my word. Now, why don't we get you some fresh air? Come. Allow me to escort you."
Her lips pulled into a jagged grin at the relief in their eyes– the blind lamb following the shepherd as it led them into it's maw. Just a little longer, and she could finally have her own caged bird– a pretty thing to admire, to protect, to possess.
Something no one else would ever touch again. Something hers.
NEUVILLETTE
Neuvillette was not one for parties. The intricacies and delicate handling of public relations he oft left in the capable hands of Furina, rather then himself. It was only at her behest he even attended at all, but he still felt rather..out of place amongst the bodies constantly shifting through the ballroom like a constant rush of water from one end to the other, no rhyme nor reason to the flow. The only thing that kept him afloat among the tides was the mask of the deer obscuring his face– even if it was exceedingly difficult to truly hide himself among the crowds, most passed over him without second thought.
Though he had to be honest with himself, even if he couldn't bring himself to admit it to Furina despite her insistence that his attendance was mandatory. He had his own reasons for coming– selfishness that left a sour taste in his mouth. It was purely by chance he'd seen the briefest glimpse of them prior, and he..was intrigued, that was all.
He refused to let his thoughts linger on the sleepless nights he spent prying every piece of information he could from loose tongues and obscure documents, every moment he managed to squeeze in between trials spent lingering in their most favored locations– cafes, stores, restaurants, the like.
Now a masquerade.
He tried not to let the guilt gnaw at his conscious, but it lingered like an age old scar that still ached.
So he relegated himself to simply residing in the further corner, nursing a goblet of water like a fine wine, trying not to let his eyes stray to the brief glimpses of them through the ever moving bodies filling the center of the room, dancing like puppets in music boxes.
Still, his hand twitched in an instinctual desire– a need to clasp his hand in their own, to touch his lips upon their knuckles, to indulge in a moment of reprieve and unshackle himself from the mantle that bears heavy upon his shoulders. He seeks reverence, worship, but not of himself– but towards the one who had drawn the eye of the dragon amongst the waves of humans he'd seen come and go for a great many years.
No one could compare, he is certain. None have left him as breathless, as hopelessly infatuated, as the one who made him wish only to kneel at their feet in senseless reverence until he could no longer speak. A hopeless man, indeed, if he has never even truly met them.
Instead he's spent his time prying into their life from the shadows. Caution, or simple cowardice?
He dares not ponder.
Yet in his ceaseless pondering he'd blocked out the world without, failing to notice the figure stepping up beside him until their hand brushed against his elbow– just the briefest touch, but it had his pupils narrowing and his entire body tensing like a coiled spring. That touch..bliss. It left him breathless and lightheaded as he tilted his head to regard them, his lips parting in a shaky sigh. They are as beautiful as he remembers– even with their face obscured beneath the mask, he would never forget them.
"Greetings, Monsieur– I hope I didn't frighten you too much." Their laugh made him feel rather faint, just the sound of their voice making his hand tighten around his cane. "..Not at all. I was simply lost in thought." He admitted apologetically, trying to reign in the urge to cup their face between his palms. A dangerous thought. He didn't want to scare them off when they'd provided him a priceless opportunity.
"My apologies, you must have needed something. It was rude of me to have been so absorbed in my thoughts to have ignored you." He continued, gently turning to set his goblet down– offer them his full attention, be a gentleman. The words rang in his skull like a ceaseless alarm, blaring and rattling his thoughts as he gently took their hand in his own. It was a split second decision– an indulgence, but he could simply not help himself. Even with his gloves between them, he felt like he was going to lose his composure just from such a brief touch..
He truly was a hopeless man before an altar, praying for a salvation he intends to bury deep beneath the waves– to keep it hidden in the darkness of the depths that only he can reach. A selfish man, he must be, to even think of it, but it is an itch that he cannot scratch. A need that must be satisfied. He cannot allow any hands but his own to tend to them, to know what it feels to touch them, to hear their voice and see their eyes as he prays– prays like a man starved, devotion born of desperation.
"I hope I did not make you wait too long." He smiles, soft and affectionate, like the bloom of spring beneath the winters chill– yet just as deadly, only masked by the sweet fragrance of flowers.
He had waited too long.
No longer.
FURINA
Furina was right at home amongst the crowds– where the masks obscured the identities of most, it was impossible to not recognize the charming banter of the Hydro Archon beneath the mask of the lamb as she graced the masquerade with her presence, speaking with a silver tongue to any who would listen. A truly enthralled audience fitting for the grandest of performers in Fontaine.
But her eyes lingered not on the people who's praise dripped from their lips like honey– yet so very bitter upon her tongue. Even the mask obscuring her expression did little to hide the longing that had her visibly deflating like a popped balloon. She hated all the eyes on her, really– it was suffocating. She was only putting on a show in the foolish hope that they'd finally pay attention to her. Just her luck, she supposes, that instead she's had to throw herself straight into the role of Archon without a pay off..
They hadn't even spared her a glance! It would be infuriating if not for the fact she couldn't even keep her composure just seeing them across the room. They didn't even have to look at her and she could feel the heat rush to her ears as she forced another smile at the crowd gathered around her. It was unfair how easily they could fluster her without even knowing it– her heart was thumping so hard against her ribcage she felt like it might burst.
Her only solace was the fact none of the patrons seemed to realize she'd clocked out of the conversation, her thoughts and eyes lingering on the distant figure– what a lovestruck fool she makes..it was a chance encounter she'd seen them during one of her outings. That was all it took to enthrall her, evidentially, try as she might to have ignore it for months.
They never left her mind for longer then a day, in the end, and she had to face the fact they had managed to enrapture her so deeply she felt like a newborn lamb learning to walk whenever she so much as thought of them. What an embarrassment! She..she was the Archon, she had a reputation to maintain, she couldn't be seen fawning over a human.
But oh, she still longed for it, beneath the veneer of a God. She'd watched them more times then she'd admit even to herself, wishing to find herself in place of those who'd hands were cradled so casually in their own– to hear their voice, their laughter, as often as she pleased..like a fine delicacy she so badly wished to taste, yet so far from her reach.
Would they think her pathetic for her infatuation? She pursed her lips at the thought, trying to bury the sour mood beneath her faux image of the Archon. Yet it lingered, and with only the quietest of excuses, she slipped into the crowd like a ghost– she needed to leave before she did something..stupid. Neuvillette would surely have a few choice words with her if she did, and she was inclined to avoid such a fate.
She..she just needed a moment to collect herself was all. That was it. She could go back to playing Archon for a little longer, she just needed a moment to herself. At the very least, the balcony had been regarded as off limits so late into the party– which gave her an opportunity to slip out of the public view for the briefest of moments. A welcome reprieve– she was starting to feel suffocated amongst the crowds.
Perhaps on instinct, she reached for the mask, lifting ever so slightly away..only to let out a startled yelp at the touch of a hand on her shoulder, the mask slipping back into place far too easily. It made her lightheaded, even now, but she dared not to dwell on it.
But when she turned sharply on her heel to chew out the person who'd followed her and had the gall to scare her..oh, she was done for, her ears flush with heat. The brief glimpse of their eyes beneath the mask, the curl of their lips as they smiled– her heart stuttered in her chest, and she was certain it had stopped all together when they clasped her hand.
"Y–you.." She wanted to be angry, to brush them off and leave with her rationality in tact, but the warmth of their hands on her skin rendered her speechless. She was no better then a fish on land, struggling to fill her lungs with air as she drew in a shaky breath. "Ahem, you caught me off guard. That's all. Surely you do not make it a habit to sneak up on people?" She huffed in indignation, trying to mask the fluster that threatened to break through her carefully crafted facade.
Ah, what a cruel twist of fate..she'd slipped away to escape their allure, but here they were, dragging her back into their orbit without even knowing how deep her infatuation ran. They were alone, too..it was a chance she wasn't sure she'd ever get again.
Maybe, just this once, she could do something for herself rather then everyone else.
She buried her guilt, the fear– buried it beneath the need to be seen.
"But if you want to make it up to me.."
#genshin impact#genshin impact yandere#genshin yandere#neuvillette x reader#yandere neuvillette#yandere neuvillette x reader#arlecchino x reader#yandere arlecchino#yandere arlecchino x reader#furina x reader#yandere furina#yandere furina x reader#fic tag#pats neuvillette this noodle dragon can be so pathetic#aiming for pathetic desperate and slightly guilty. it gnaws at him knowing he's keeping you like a bird in a cage#esp if you react extremely negatively hes like a kicked puppy#not outwardly but internally hes a MESS. sobbing crying wailing#furina and neuvi sopping wet kittens u found in a cardboard box in an alley#vs arle thinking abt all the crimes shes going 2 commit in the process w/o an ounce of guilt. blackmail? check. kidnapping? check.#a little murder for flavor. as u can see im coping horribly w being practically snowed in rn i need 2 be put down#its like 4 degrees out rn (fahrenheit) and getting colder ueueueue i am dying..........#only thing keeping me going is my furinameow plushie coming. eventually. staying strong just for her.................#also needs 2 be mentioned all the stories r separate ksjfkhdsf#no not everyone in fontaine is yan and trying 2 kidnap sorry for getting ur hopes up..#yet#anyway u cant convince me arle isn't bribing (or just straight up forcing) her agents into doing stupid shit so she can “save” you#and make you owe her#two silly goofy little creatures vs the personification of gaslight gatekeep girlboss (heavy on the gaslight)#also split this up in 3 parts bc. lol. lmao. im not writing 9 characters at once goodbye#also all the masks do actually have significance i have an entire essay on why i gave each animal to specific characters okay
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127luvr · 27 days
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SOOO i just reqd the jaemin smau AND i have thoughts (as a jaemin and sungchan ULT STAN GAY EUEUEUEUE)
so uhm everyone knows jaemin and yn will be tgt lile thats the fic BUT i have big inclination that shotaro will yes might be the reason chanyn will break up but i feel like shotaro wont go back to sungchan cause duh career hello SOOOO
can i request a sungchan x male reader story 🫶🫶 which could or could not be continuing this like later on after jaemyn is a thing so imagine regular new yn and he actually really liked sungchan ever since sungchan served him one time so he goes to the cafe hoping he sees him everytime so the one week he constantly see him gone yn asks jaemin's yn where he is and jaemin's yn basically become the bridge for sungchan's yn to be with sungchan
(so just imagine sungchan's yn that has a tissue paper ready with his socials and saying you're cute cause sungchan had given him too much change prior and he waited for the whole week and got impatient so he just gave it to jaemin's yn forgetting the tissue paper with the change so jaemin's yn give it to sungchan)
(you dont have to write this in the story im just brain farting but sungchan's yn being hopeful romantic that is also no boyfriend since birth and sungchan even though moving on and befriending his exes still is adamant in finding love is just UGHHH like i need sungchan to have a happy ending I NEED MY MAN TO HAVE A HAPPY ENDING IN EVERY AU </3)
love 119 ✶𓏲ּ꩜ .ᐟ
jung sungchan x male reader
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in which y/n finds himself in the My Love Mine all Mine alternate universe, but he doesn't mind it.
it's been a month since you stepped into the luna cafe. a month since you sat at the first table you saw--closest to the service counter. a month since you held your head in your hands, elbows digging into hard surface below you--trying to dig into the wood and fall through it. a month since sungchan sat across from you with your favorite drink in his hands.
you ignore the way the liquid spills out from the bottom of the lid and onto the table. laser-focused on the man in front of you. you've never seen a face like his back home--with a deer-like charm. tall nose paired with full lips and brown hair that falls over his eyes like he's the boy-next-door. he sits across from you with a certain familiarity in his eyes, a soft smile gracing his lips when the two of you make eye contact.
"i thought you were off today, y/n?" he throws his arms on the table casually, like he knows you. like he's comfortable with you but you pull yourself back, pressing your body as far as you could to your cushioned chair. sungchan gives you a puzzled look, his lips thinning into somewhat of a frown. "what's wrong?"
"do i know you?"
sungchan freezes, his hands placed flat against the table that separates you from him. and he finally notices your clothes. clothes that he knows his y/n doesn't own. he takes a second to get a good look, noticing the way your hair is parted differently. your lips a little asymmetrical--the mole that was on his y/n now on the opposite side of your face.
"i'm so sorry! i thought you were my friend for a minute. you guys look eerily similar." he takes one last look before he pulls himself off of the chair, dusting his apron off awkwardly before bowing his head in an apologetic manner. he leaves the drink with you, even pushing it towards your timid fingers as another apology. "what's your favorite dessert? it's on the house for any inconvenience."
it has been four mondays since your initial meeting with sungchan. four mondays in a row where you've stepped foot in the same cafe--at the same time on-the-dot as the first monday. so far, it's to no avail. it seems that the closer you try and get to sungchan, the further away he was.
your second visit to the cafe, you encountered this world's you. it wasn't like looking in the mirror. it was uncanny--uncomfortable--as you stared at your own face. heard your own voice. reacted to your own mannerisms. this y/n brushed it off, choosing to chalk it up to pure coincidence even with playful nudging that came from his coworkers.
although the two of you were the same, this y/n was far more extroverted. he was always surrounded by friendly coworkers at the cafe--always stealing glances at the white-haired man that sat at the booth with a clear view of the counter. he took his breaks with him, sitting with his head on his shoulder, (h/c) locks sprawled all over his shirt. the white haired man never looked away from him, always attentive even with his work sitting in front of him.
you learned his name on your third visit--jaemin. you never knew you could be so jealous of yourself. bitter at the way this (y/n)'s mouth couldn't help but form a smile every time he uttered jaemin's name. it was a foreign feeling. watching yourself be affectionate with another man.
you've lived your whole life without a significant other. you could continue living without one but experiencing unrequited love your whole life was grueling. all you wanted to do was hold hands with someone who liked you just as much as you liked him.
by your fourth visit, you grew tired of waiting for sungchan. tired of watching this (y/n) and his jaemin touch all over each other. you were determined to get into contact with sungchan again, preparing a piece of paper with your social media handles and phone number just in case he was more comfortable with either one of them.
"can you give this to sungchan, please?" you wipe your clammy hands on your blue jeans, handing this (y/n) your cash and your torn piece of paper. he gives you a crooked grin, paying more attention to the writing on the paper instead of your change. "i haven't seen him since that first meeting, but i can't get him out of my mind. i know it's stupid--"
"no! no! it's about time. you won't shut up about him and he won't shut up about you. it's just unlucky you always come in when he's not here." (y/n) folds the paper in front of you neatly, placing in his wallet carefully. "i'll protect this with my life."
"thanks, (y/n)."
sungchan doesn't wait long to text you, eager when he receives a picture of your number from (y/n).
you can't help but smile at the unknown number on your phone. you can hear his voice through the letters on the screen, his messages sounding just like his speech in real life.
hey, y/n!
(it's sungchan btw......)
do you have a nickname? i might confuse you and the other y/n.
so weird! you both look the same and have the same name, are you the evil doppelgänger?
no, maybe he is 🤔. haha!
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dayurno · 1 month
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i usually think it's bullshit when people say 'if you like x character it's because you're like them' but lately in case anyone was wondering i have been listening to videos on marxist history while single-mindedly making a self-sufficient high profit farm on stardew valley without having talked to a single romanceable character. hopefully this says nothing about me nor kevin day
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liquidstar · 1 month
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a friend who'd wait :)
#im posting this very late because i was sort of weary of how it came out and ended up messing w it until it was like 4am oops.#and i have plans tmrw so... oh well! i did my best and ill put it out while i can!#and i tried to make the scene match barnard's colors lol#finn's ocs#finn's art#i know i said id do more sillay stuff with the simpler screentone only style but i had a couple more of these in me#and this is the first piece im making thats like an actual part of the story too rather than just setting stuff for fun#i wanna write something to go with it too but for now ill just sort of briefly explain the context in the tags here:#barnard has a pretty bad case of OCD and his compulsions have made it difficult to make friends in the past#he was never outright bullied or anything but people just didnt really have the patience to deal with it#he has compulsions that include stuff like walking through doors until it feels right and needing things to be perfectly aligned#which in group settings has lead to people having to wait for him to finish his rituals and join them#they might find it tolerable at first but eventually they grow impatient and hes just... not invited to stuff anymore#but juno is a newer member of the guild who ends up frequenting the same library. hes also kinda a little weird#and they dont become fast friends or anything but just sort of naturally spend time in the same place#though they never plan meetups they eventually fall into a routine. around the same time theyd just both be at the library#and read next to each other. and maybe talk a bit. and eventually they end up walking back to the guildhall together#since theyre going to the same place after all. and juno always waits for barnard outside the door#eventually barnard asks if this bothers him. juno kinda just tells him 'of course it does' without any malice or anything. just a statement#barnard is surprised and apologizes and juno says not to. but the next day juno doesnt show up at the usual time.#barnard assumes hes committed somekinda more by bringing it up. he ends up staying there late reading to get his mind off it & not ruminate#but when he leaves juno is in fact still waiting for him down the hall (see pic) having collected a bunch of books literally abt ocd#he fell asleep bc barnard stayed later than expected. and hes an eepy guy generally. and also one very bad at expressing himself#but now barnard gets that juno's 'of course it [bothers me]' had the implication of 'but its worth it' which no friend has previously done.#and from the interaction juno was also able to understand that this isn't something barnard just does for the hell of it so. he studies.#and checks a bunch of stuff out because he thinks it could help his friend too (theres ocd workbooks and such- i remember working w them)#and thats the point where they became more ''friends'' than ''pleasant library acquaintances''#from there on they also do get into juno's problems. whole other bag of worms. but this specific scene is more about bernard from his pov#sorry about when i said briefly explain. i lied </3#but compared to the whole sequence im picturing its brief so shhh
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stevebabey · 1 year
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you thought it would be all sweetness??? nooo u got to have a little miscommunication angst before anyone gets any hickies. but they will. in time >:) part one. part two. this is a part three :)
Steve blames it all on the clock.
That stupid cuckoo clock on the wall of the Munson trailer. It's an absolute horror of interior design that would make Steve’s mom shiver if she ever laid eyes on it. It’s probably why Eddie loves it — and the god-awful cuckoo! noise it makes when it goes off.
Because the moment Eddie utters that delightful question, asking for a hickie, the nerve of him, Steve loves it — and Steve is more than ready to oblige him — the stupid clock goes off.
It gives them both a fright, Steve more than Eddie. He gives a whole-body twitch that shifts them both, his head snapping to the wall, a breath forced out of his lungs at the sight of the mustard-coloured bird. Shit. Stupid fuckin’ clock, Steve thinks.
But it seems to break the trance over the room. The sweet tension of their shared closeness is sucked out of the room in an instant. Steve is suddenly aware of the time the popping out bird is announcing. It’s late. Far later than Steve intended to stay over, especially considering work tomorrow.
Without meaning to, the prickle under Steve’s skin rolls through his body. It steals away the comfort that he usually feels with Eddie, tenseness filling his body. Steve hates it — hates how he can’t stop himself from tensing up beneath Eddie.
Eddie notices. He's quick to to retract himself from Steve, pushing up and back, giving Steve his space. He sits beside Steve on the couch, still close. Not close enough to touch.
It helps. The rigidness of Steve's body relaxes just a bit but Steve doesn’t want that. He wants Eddie back on him. Wants his hands gripping Steve’s side. His breath fanning over Steve’s face, cheeks cherry red and pupils blown wide. Steve doesn’t say any of that and he sure is shit isn't brave enough to ask for it.
Instead, he croaks, “It’s late.”
Steve reluctantly pushes himself up from his slumped position, eyes already searching for his scattered shoes. He misses the way Eddie’s face falls, the way he tries to tug his hair in front of his face to hide the hurt. It takes another second to school his expression.
Steve hears a cough and then Eddie agrees with a murmur. “Yeah, sure.”
The words ache. No part of Steve is relieved to have Eddie agree with him. He’s not sure what he wanted; for Eddie to egg him to stay just a little while longer? To prove that their kisses hadn’t been a heat of the moment impulsivity? There's nothing to prove they weren't.
No, it was Steve who said he had to go. It is late. But then again maybe, Eddie wanted him to leave. But, no— Eddie just asked for a hickie, he wouldn’t—
“Don’t you have work early tomorrow?” Steve’s spiral cuts short at Eddie’s voice, tinged with… irritation?
O-kay. Now Steve’s not sure what to think. What had been the source of immense joy because Steve had asked for a kiss and Eddie said yes is suddenly… tilted.
The beginnings of embarrassment begin to cling to Steve like a thick fog. He’s done it again. Been overly eager. Asked for too much, too soon— fuck, that had been Eddie’s first kiss too.
“Yeah,” Steve replies, standing and shoving his foot into the one shoe he can find. He spies the other one under the table and wiggles it out with his toe. He can’t find in it to look at Eddie, not just yet. “Yeah, uh, I should get going.”
It’s all wrong. Steve shouldn’t be leaving — not on these terms. Not when he can’t look at Eddie for fear of what he’ll find. Regret? Steve’s not sure if he could face Eddie again, not if there’s even a trace of it on his face. It would feel like Halloween all over again, a bludgeon on Steve’s too-soft heart. It’ll crumble, he just knows it.
Steve wants to stay. He really wants to. He wants to ask for another kiss, ask for a dozen more kisses. Wants to give the hickie Eddie asked so nicely for and receive one back; matching love bites, like a gentler version of their matching twisted scars adorning their sides.
But he’s always asking for more. Steve always needs more. It’s greedy. It’s embarrassing how much he wants it, how he’s already gotten patient touches from Eddie but it’s not enough. Eddie had sounded a pinch annoyed — even aggravated at Steve.
It doesn't cross his mind that it might be for any other reason. Really, Steve thinks he’s doing Eddie a favour.
“Um,” Steve clears his throat, takes the wobble out of his words. Nods to himself and chances a glimpse at Eddie. The older is staring down at his lap, locks of hair trapped between twitchy fingers. They should talk about it. Steve’s not brave enough to risk his heart tonight.
“Well, g’night.” He says quietly, letting himself out the trailer door. He closes it behind him gently, shoes tapping against the stairs on the way down. It feels wrong, it feels wrong — but it would be selfish to turn back.
He repeats the sentiment over and over, raspy whispers beneath his breath as he climbs into his car. It would be selfish. The engine turns over and he hesitates for just a moment, hoping to catch a silhouette in the kitchen window. It’s empty. Of course, it’s empty.
Of course, Eddie is not chancing for a glance at him on his way out because Steve just asked for more and more and more, and he took Eddie’s first kiss and then— He whispers it to himself again. It would be selfish to turn back.
When he thinks about it on the drive home, Steve’s sure it all comes back to that stupid fucking clock.
-
Eddie stares in the mirror.
He’s not sure why he was so convinced there would be some radical change in him upon popping his make-out cherry but… well, here he was. Staring in the mirror like he had this morning. Except 10 hours earlier, he had been unkissed.
Tonight, the difference shows. His lips are rosier than usual, a swell to them given by hasty sweet kisses. It’s the only evidence of his spit-sharing moment of passion with Steve on the couch. The rosy colour is already beginning to fade.
Eddie sinks his teeth in. He doesn’t want the only physical proof that he even got to kiss Steve to be gone so soon. Even if that fact seems terribly bitter now.
“What the shit did you do, Munson?” He murmurs to himself in the tiny bathroom mirror.
It’s got toothpaste specks splayed across it. Eddie stares past them. Stares into his own face, reading every change in his features as emotions inside him churn. It’s heading for a distraught expression, the upturn of his brows and quiver in his lips giving him away. He always was a crier. Eddie really wishes he wasn’t.
“Idiot!” He pairs the word with a bang on the wall beside the mirror, frustration leaking out. The toothbrush on the sink shudders in its cup with a clink.
Eddie hates the welling in his eyes. He hates that he ruined the first fuckin’ good thing to happen to him in this town. Loathes that he drives away the first person who actually knows him and still wants to kiss him.
Well, wanted to kiss him.
Eddie’s pretty sure Steve scampering out of the trailer is more than a big enough sign. It’s a blazingly bright neon sign — light up words that say ‘This was a mistake!’
Except, it hadn’t felt at all like a mistake to Eddie. It had felt wonderful, better than anything he had thought, the soft curve of Steve’s lips, the grip on his hands on Eddie’s face, the heat in his face, the— Eddie growls, wiping his hand down his face to shake the thoughts. Too good to be true was what it was.
It’s because of what he said. Of what he asked for. It had to be that. But— but Steve had looked eager and almost excited and then the stupid clock had gone off, scaring the shit out of them both. Maybe it was then that Eddie’s words had sunk in and Steve realised what he’d gotten into— and who he’d gotten into it with.
“You had to ask for more, huh?” Eddie scolds himself angrily, wiping his cheeks harshly when a tear streaks free. Another follows, just as fast. Eddie wipes roughly at his face to clear them. Doesn’t care about the streaks of red he leaves on his cheeks. Another trembling reprimand comes out. “You just had to push it, huh? You fuckin’ idiot.”
Eddie can’t stand his reflection anymore. He tears his gaze away as he spins and heads straight for his room.
The button on his stereo is sticky and it takes a few forceful clicks to turn it on, but when he does, he cranks it. It’s loud enough he’ll surely wake some neighbours. Eddie can’t find it in him to care, not even when the neighbours dog starts off with its incessant barking. Anything to stop hearing himself cry.
-
“Something’s up with Eddie.” is the first thing Robin says when she comes in the front door.
Steve’s mid-yawn when she does, a result of a night of tossing and turning, and he somehow manages a strange choke at her words. In a haste to shut his mouth, he chomps on his fingers covering his mouth — then hisses, pulling it away from his face. He ignores Robin’s perplexed expression, shoving the hand deep in his pocket. His ears feel a tad hotter.
“What? Why? What makes you think that?” Steve asks the questions in rapid succession. Very chill, he chides himself. At this rate, Robin would have him all figured out 10 minutes into their shift.
And it’s not like— well, Robin’s advice is usually great. A bit cut-throat, sure. She doesn’t have a problem trodding on his feelings on her way to tell him the hard truth. Usually, it’s fine. Steve could probably do with a bit of ego-bruising.
Today, he’s… It’s different. That’s what Steve tells himself. This thing with Eddie, he wants to fix it himself. And with too much meddling from Robin’s advice, even if it was with the best intentions, might mix things up too much. It’s hard enough keeping his half-baked apology that’s been brewing since last night in proper order in his mind.
Thankfully, Robin doesn’t comment on his odd demeanor. She just bustles into the back room — there are a couple sounds of her dumping her stuff. When she comes back out the front, she’s fixing her Family Video vest. It looks perfectly straight to Steve.
He checks his own — it’s sitting askew, part of the collar flipped over. He hastily fixes it, running his hands down the front to smooth it a bit.
“Just,” Robin starts, talking as she sits in front of the computer, beginning to take a crack at the admin she managed. She likes doing things as she talks, Steve knows. Helps keep her from letting words run away from her.
Steve’s thankful for it now because she isn’t looking at him when she says, “I think he might have had a bad nightmare last night, or something of that sort. I don’t know. Maybe I’m way off — you know how I am with trying to read people, Steve. I’m not good at it! But when I saw him, he just seemed…”
Robin seems to take an extra moment to deliberate her word choice. Steve’s really glad she’s still facing the computer so she can’t see the myriad of emotions that show on his face.
“…Off.” is the word she decides on.
Which means bad. Steve feels like he’s swallowed a stone. It sinks deep into his stomach. It burns, sour and scorned, twisting up his gut. It means Eddie is bad — it means disappointment, means he regretted it. That Steve had been right; that he’d been too eager, too soon. Too much.
Right. Of course, this happens again. Really, Steve had brought it on himself by asking for so much. It had been one thing to ask for a hug — who actually has to do that? — and then to expect he might get Eddie to kiss him too? What a overstep. Christ, he's an idiot.
“That’s not…” He hears himself say, still lost in his thoughts. It's only when Robin turns on the stool, brows raised, that Steve realises he hasn’t finished his sentence. “Good. That’s not good. To hear.”
Steve turns and starts shuffling around the films on the returns cart, picking them up at random. He stares at a copy of ‘The Princess Bride’ in his hands, a new release, and forces out a causal question.
“What made you think that?” He asks, shoving the film into an empty slot, like he was arranging them. He’s relieved when Robin’s clicking on the keyboard resumes, along with a dramatic sigh.
“I don’t know. I don’t know if I can be trusted to read anyone’s emotions correctly at any given time, honestly. Remember that old lady? I thought she was being sweet that whole time and then you told me she was being rude! And I couldn’t even tell…”
Robin’s ramble is comforting and helpful to Steve in a way he didn’t know they could be. He presses the cart out, finally getting a move on with it, but delivers a quick nod to Robin when she’s looking to let her know he’s still tuned in. He listens to her get distracted by another topic and leaves Eddie’s name in the dust. It’s a silent relief.
It’s a task to multi-task, listening and devising a plan, but Steve has all shift to find the balance. It’s sometime between finishing re-stocking the action section and starting the romance that Steve decides he should apologise. He should go over today and apologise.
Eddie’s a big boy but Steve’s fairly certain now, if he regretted it, Eddie had probably felt obliged to kiss him back. Probably hadn’t minded the first kiss but- but— Something sticks in his brain; it was Eddie’s first kiss.
It makes Steve feel worse. It doesn’t matter, really, Steve should say sorry for all of it. God, he’s such an idiot.
By the time he’s clocked out, it’s all set in place. He’s got a dozen different apologies running in a loop in his head, reciting the words in time with his anxious tapping on the steering wheel. It’s not a long drive out to Forest Hills Trailer Park. The drive is well-known now. Steve tries hard not to wallow in what he might be losing today. What he lost because he’d been too greedy with want.
The sight of a brown van parked roadside yanks him from his thoughts. Eddie’s van. Steve’s stomach turns, nerves gnawing faster. He slows, trying to catch eye of the other boy as he rolls to a stop behind the van. The sun is beginning to dip closer to the horizon, the temperature going with it.
At the same time, they see each other; Eddie’s head popping around the raised hood to see who had stopped, right as Steve pops his door. Eddie retreats in an instant. Steve's chest grows a bit tighter.
Gravel crunches underfoot as Steve takes a few wary steps closer. It doesn’t take more than a couple before Eddie calls out. He doesn’t bother poking his head out again.
“Go away, Steve.”
Steve swallows thickly. Yeah, okay, he deserves that. He deserves probably worse than that. But more importantly than that, Eddie deserves to hear this. And Steve... needs to not lose Eddie.
“Can I… can we talk?” Steve asks, taking a couple steps closer. A car whizzes by on the road, hidden from Steve's view behind the van. He still keeps his distance, hovering. His hands clench nervously at his sides. Steve shoves them deep in his jean pockets, wiping the sweat off them as he goes.
“What part of ‘Go away’ isn’t clear enough for you?” Eddie snarks back. He still doesn't stick his head out, still won’t look at Steve. It stings.
“I know, I’m sorry,” Steve starts, another instinctive step forward taken. “I-I just, I shouldn’t have left like I did last night. I wanted to apologise.”
There’s a clattering from behind the hood like Eddie’s dropped a tool. He swears. Steve wants to take another step, wants to see Eddie — wants to read every emotion and apologise for causing any of the ugly ones.
“Well, apology accepted,” Eddie responds. There’s a bite in his words. His next words are grumblier, quieter. “And message fuckin’ received.”
What? “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That—” Finally, Eddie steps away from the van, rounding the hood to march up to Steve. His arms cross over his chest, a wrinkle set between his brows that pull his face into a glare. Robin was right; he is off. This isn’t normal Eddie. Fuck, Steve had fucked up bad.
“That means message received, Steve.” Eddie seethes. He uncrosses his arms to gesture wildly. Steve misses the wobble in his bottom lip. “Message received loud and clear! I get it!”
And all Steve wants to ask is: get what? He doesn’t ask that. He should know what. That would be an idiotic question, would make Eddie more irritated. Lord knows, Steve has been enough of a fool in the last day. So, he doesn’t ask.
“Look, I just…” Steve starts, words a bit weak. They die in his throat as he tries to recall a single apology he had practiced all day and comes up empty. “I’m just- I just wanted—look, I’m sorry I took your first kiss!”
It’s not exactly what he means to say, but Steve certainly is sorry for it. Eddie’s expression wavers, some anger slipping away. Confusion takes its place.
“What?” Eddie says with a tone of bafflement. “What are you talking about?”
“And I’m sorry I kept… kept asking for more.” Steve continues on, pulling on the thread inside him, connected to the terrible stone he swallowed earlier. He tugs it. Hopes pulling it will unravel the guilt sitting heavy in his stomach.
Steve scrunches his eyes shut and rubs the bridge of his nose. “I know, okay? I know that I can be a lot.” He sighs and drops his hands.
“But I didn’t mean to… shit,” He wrenches his eyes open. Eddie’s a bit wide-eyed now, brown eyes watching him intently. Steve doesn’t know what expression he’s wearing, can’t tell if it’s good or worse. He continues, soft words scraping out his throat.
“I didn’t mean to be like that with you.”
Eddie searches Steve’s face, eyes darting and wild. He licks his lips. His hands are in motion, fingers twisting rings, quick and fast. It’s a nervous action.
“What do you mean by ‘like that?’” Eddie asks, voice gentler. It's lost its snarl from before.
Steve blinks, a scrape of teeth worrying his bottom lip. He murmurs his admittance lowly, just one word, “Selfish.”
Eddie doesn’t try to hide his surprise; it ripples across his face in a wave. Confusion melts away into something closer to, Steve hopes desperately, relief. Steve can feel his own heart thudding hard inside his chest — can feel the beat it skips when Eddie steps closer.
“Steve?” Eddie says, sounding unlike himself. Steve’s never heard his voice that small. He nods, wordlessly. Eddie searches his face once more — wide brown eyes scanning and devouring. Steve can’t help but do the same.
He drinks in the details of Eddie’s face; the soft scruff along his top lip, the darkness of his lashes and the way they kiss in the corner that Steve adores. The pink of his lips. The familiar ache to kiss Eddie surges up within him, still as violent and strong as it had been the night before.
Steve should really stop looking at Eddie’s lips. He’s supposed to be apologising. He drags his eyes up and meets Eddie’s gaze full-on, prepared for whatever he might say. Except, he’s not expecting him at all to say;
“Can I... try this again?” It comes out a ragged breath, Eddie's scared eyes conveying the weight behind his words.
And this time Steve doesn't even need to ask what because he knows. Because Eddie's hands are reaching up and holding either side of Steve's face so gently. Steve can't recall a time he's ever been held so softly. His own hands come up slowly, draping around Eddie's wrists to hold them, to keep them there.
Eddie's thumb traces. It draws a sweet line of that familiar fire beneath Steve's skin along til it's settled on Steve's bottom lip, resting. The blood under Eddie's thumb thrums, gloriously warm, aching with want. Yes. Steve thinks. Yes, yes, yes.
"Yes, please." Steve breathes, so sincere the words comes out as a kiss against Eddie's thumb.
So, Eddie kisses him.
now with a part four !
tags below! sry if i tagged u and u didn't want it just tagging everyone who replied <3 @they-reap-what-we-sow @impeachy @anaibis @resident-gay-bitch @ediewentmissing @newtstabber @original-cypher @invisibleflame812 @hunterbow04 @leather-and-freckles @dracoswifeandlokispet @foolofentirelytoomanyfandoms @lfaewrites @sundead @call-me-big-eyes @the-redthread @goblinmanifesto @etaka @bishopextractions @ketterfuck @persephone13 @beckkthewreck @maya-custodios-dionach @autumnal-dawn @yourstrulyjoko @gleefully-macabre @princess-eddie @savory-babby
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lottieurl · 1 year
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why don’t you carry me home
care by robot koch
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citrinide · 4 months
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Saying this in the nicest way possible.
Some people really need to shut up.
#cecil.fm#DESPERATELY begging some of you to stop ignoring huge parts of a character JUST because you like them#He's an asshole. He's CONSISTENTLY an asshole. He makes slights and unnecessary judgements toward EVERYONE. PLEASE IT'S NOT JUST THE CHASSIS#yes this is about Wheatley obviously I'm going to be pissed over people misinterpreting characters from my special interest AGAIN#I was there when people UwU-ified him and treated him like a precious baby while demonising GLaDOS at the same time I'm bashing heads in rn#they're. fucking. FOILS!!!#THEY'RE BOTH BAD PEOPLE OH MY GOD THEY BOTH MAKE UNNECESSARILY RUDE REMARKS YOU NEED TO ACCEPT THIS OH MY GOD#I am begging oh my fucking god#there's moments where I see this behaviour and like desperately want to block people because oh my god what ELSE are you blatantly ignoring#like I'm not innocent either here I'll be the FIRST to admit my f/o is a shitty person too! He's a pathetic little suck up#he's annoying and so fucking rude but I'm not ignoring any of that!#The portal fandom has such an issue with this I swear to god. nothings changed we're going in circles. character analysis is dead.#I think thats what made me cancel LaaC originally too. fuck.#this is why I stay in my little Aperture Tag corner. Because at LEAST we aren't operating under the false pretense that Nigel is some saint#forcing you all (non-specific) to play the game again and TRY to explain away the blatant instances of him being all types of awful#just a general sentiment I've seen again recently that I REALLY despise. stop declawing characters im going to MAUL you#anyway sorry for the tag rant im just very passionate about this game and people misinterpreting characters WILDLY off is. Yeah :))#extra note: blaming the chassis for his actions as if he wasn't predisposed to that behaviour is a stupid ass take and always has been <3#i could go on for hours but I'd hit the note limit so <3#one of my biggest pet peeves in fandom honestly.
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heartpascal · 1 year
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begging you on my KNEES for a part 3 of ‘I would let you in’. 🙏🏻🙏🏻
RISE DEAR ANON!!! a series is afoot!!!
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thanatos-nightshade · 5 months
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Im so sorry i played Our Life: beginnings and always and not only has it sucker punched me with bittersweet feelings of life and change and relationships but its also thrown me into brain rot hell of it. Im sorry if ocean boy cove floods your feed get it? Its a pun
#t-n talks#personal#our life: beginnings & always#olba#i love him so much i love them all so much i need to replay with all the dlcs and get shiloh to come to our wedding#because i named a fosh after him in like step 2 or 3 and i missed him and i dont care if he lied to us im sorry shiloh#come baaack#but also baxter what happened baxter we missed you so much youre important to us youre important to meeeeeee#everyones my friend now how do i have jeremy at my wedding but not shiloh? jeremy you should have made shiloh suffer tooooo#im so glad i got jeremy though god i felt for him so bad like genuinely what was wrong while he was mean to us#i just wanted to be nice and friends but also dont be mean to cove and im so glad hes mellowed out a bit hes really a good kid sometimes#i love them all so much dereeeekkkkk hes such a good friend god hes SUCH A GOOD FRIEND im screaming#and baxter baxter baxter baxter sometimes i dont think hes in love with us but in love with our relationship but also like#i wouldnt mind us three being closer because youre fucking important to me baxter just like jeremy#youre all part of this found family gay as shit now if i can be adopted then that means i can adopt you too!!!#god but seriously? like i expected to cry because of relationship love drama at first not because i was having#complicated feelings about being adopted and my relatiinship with my sister god ive never had an older sister really#and my siblings and i arent super close but im adopted and i dont think ive ever wanted something more than this family#this game man i just god my fiance was like “i dont think this game was meant to be so deep/intense” but like its a visual novel#novels are meant to invoke feelings and thoughts and discussion and reflection at least thats what i believe every story has a purpose#its up to us to figure out what its purpose is maybe not in general but to us what can we take away from it and god#it makes me want to hold onto my friendships tightly and reach out to everyone i knew/know#i have too many tags on here because of brain rot but i love this game and im so excited for the next one and i would love to download#like my log of the entire game so that i can recap everything at like my leisure#just cause im not gonna remember all my choices and stuff
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snowangeldotmp3 · 11 months
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pleek …. venom robiN VENOM ROBIN VENOM ROBIN DJSJSJDJSKD (im not normal about this sorry 🫶🫶🫶)
rj i have some venom robin JUST FOR YOU!! (also this actually got my ass in gear to write for venom rob khkgh)
“Robin? Are you okay? Steve said that you were sick.” “Nah,” Robin winces, leaning against her door frame. “It’s just a headache.” Nancy isn’t convinced. Figures. But she smiles gently, and Robin swears that it takes just a little bit of the pain away. “You look like shit, Rob.” She peers past Robin, grin widening when she sees the cocoon of blankets Robin’s made on the couch.
wip weekend ✨
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