It's the apocalypse.
It's the goddamn world splitting apart apocalypse and instead of freaking out like he should be, Steve's standing in front of his bedroom mirror trying to pick an appropriate outfit to visit his friend in the hospital.
The polo shirt is too casual and the sweatshirt is too colourful. And the plain t-shirt says that he doesn't care, but the button-up says he cares too much. He sighs and nervously runs a hand through his messy, grown out hair. It's been three months after all. Three months of mourning and wallowing in his own self hate and blame.
Only for it all to be for nothing because the person he's been grieving is apparently alive.
According to the nurse who called him at exactly 8:30am, he's just woken up from a medical induced coma and he's in the hospital just down the road from Steve's house. She said it so casually as well, like she was informing Steve that it was going to rain tomorrow. She had no idea what to do when he started crying hysterically on the phone.
And now here he is, stressed and flustered standing in front of a mirror because all Steve can think about is making a good first impression. He doesn't understand why, doesn't understand why he's not asking himself how this is possible, how someone he had felt die in his arms is apparently alive and well three months later. There are so many things he should be thinking about and questions he should be asking, but instead, the only thing he can think about is looking nice for his friend who has literally just woken up from a coma.
But he doesn't have time to unpack that.
That's for later; just like the apocalypse, which he pointedly ignores on his way to the makeshift hospital. The cracks that run through Hawkins are quite literally the last thing on his mind right now.
All he can think about is Eddie, who is alive and breathing, who will look at Steve's very carefully picked outfit and probably say something smartass-y and slightly mean, but Steve doesn't care. He needs that right now. He needs the witty jokes and crooked smile. He needs something to replace the lifeless eyes and blood-stained lips from his memory. He needs to know that this is real. That the phone call from the hospital wasn't a dream.
He needs to know that this isn't vecna toying with him.
"I'm here to see Eddie Munson." The words sound jumbled and unreal to his ears. He hasn't said Eddie's name out loud for months. Just the sound of his name would bring him to tears and remind him that he failed, that he is useless at his role as the protector; the shield.
When the nurses don't look at him like he's crazy, like he's lost his mind, and when they actually walk him down the crowded hall to a room marked with the number 27, that's when Steve realises this is real. This is happening.
Because laying there tucked into the all white sheets and hooked up to countless leads, is Eddie fucking Munson.
And he's smiling at Steve weakly, but it's the most beautiful smile Steve has seen in months.
"Hey, Harrington."
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Can I request maybe how the death note trio react to reader being too shy to hold their hand? Like Reader obviously wants to hold their hands but doesn’t know if it is ok (you don’t have to write for the trio you can pick a single character to write for)
oh. my. gaaaahkjsbdjjshjdhd yes. thank you anon for asking this!!! I wrote it more story-ish than bullet point headcanons so I hope it's okay :)
I also included how I think they would actually hold your hands... I realised when writing this I had headcanons for that??
I have moved to my main @lawlietscaramels please follow there for new content!
can you tell L's hands are my favourite thing. like, ever.
╾ To Hold Your Hand
★━━─・‥…━━━☆
L 🍰
L had oddly feminine hands. They were much larger than most women's, sure, but so slender and delicate. His fingers were pale. Well, L never went outside, so that was to be expected. But still. You couldn't help but wonder, as you looked at him absentmindedly running those wonderful fingers through his hair or a bowl of sweets, how they would look with the nails painted black.
Or, even better, how they would look intertwining with your own fingers.
L, being L, noticed your gaze rather quickly. He looked at you, looked at you looking at him, and the edges of his lips slowly curved into what might just be called a smile. He tilted his head in a nod of acknowledgement and went back to work. The detective's fingers ran over the keyboard, applying calculated pressure as he pressed down each key with a soft chuk.
You wanted to hold his hands.
So, so very badly.
And yet L was so, so very likely to decline the offer. He didn't like showing affection in "such manners." And he needed both his hands, too, for working.
But they looked so warm and soft.
"L?"
"Yes?" as he typed away.
"...Never mind."
Silence for a moment. He picked up a cupcake with two fingers and pressed it into the palm you were resting on the table.
"This is what you wanted?"
You smiled as his fingers rested against your skin. They were shockingly cold and somewhat sticky, but so soft. "Yes."
L nodded in satisfaction at this and went back to work. You ate your mini cupcake with one hand, leaving the other one palm up on the desk in the hope that L's spectacularly analytical mind would apply its skills to you for once.
You looked at his hands longingly in the silence. Would it be okay if you reached over and touched it? You didn't know.
Well, you had to find out sometime, right?
Your hand inched across to L's, and you rested your pinky against his, curling your finger around L's after a moment. He looked down in surprise at the feeling, staring for a minute, then gently picked up your hand and placed it back on the desk. Away from the keyboard.
...Oh.
He glanced back at you after a minute, his eyes wide and his lips straight. It was, as ever, impossible to determine his thoughts. So you just waited as he stared at you, an internal monologue likely going through his mind.
L reached over and turned your hand around, flattening your palm into the table.
And he hesitated.
And then he placed a large, cold, soft, perfect hand on top of yours.
Light 🖋️
"Light," you groaned, falling back a little to rest against a tree.
"Hold on, sorry," he says, placing a hand to the speaker of his phone. "What is it?"
You gave him a glare. "We're on a date. Stop calling Misa and just walk with me. Come on, it's such a nice day!"
"I know, Y/N. It's imperative I maintain a positive relationship with Misa for work. Just give me a minute." He continued his conversation with the girl and you let out a quiet sigh, grumbling to yourself as you kicked little rocks across the floor.
This was the third date you'd been on recently where Light had been distracted the entire way through. Last time he even started writing what appeared to be notes on the Kira case beneath the table, his eyes on you but his attention elsewhere. As always.
Your gaze drifted across the pavement, stopping at Light's feet for a moment before trailing up his body. You halted again at the sight of his hand on the phone.
His somewhat loose grip tightened suddenly, along with his expression. That caught your attention for two reasons.
One, he seemed cross with Misa.
And two, you were suddenly enamoured with his hands. They looked strong.
You took three quick steps across from Light, yanked his phone from his hand, and pressed "end call." Light looked at you in shock and you simply slipped his phone into his pocket.
"Come on, you can tell Misa the connection dropped out. Just come walk with me."
Light sighs, before a smile starts pulling at his lips. "Alright. I suppose you're right. It is a rather nice day." He starts striding along, eyes half closed and head tilted back. He puts one hand, the one further away from you, in his pocket. Green-tinted shadows fall over his face as you walk between trees.
You keep glancing at his other hand. The hand that had just previously displayed an oddly surprising firmness. It hung loosely at his side now, knuckles prominent as he swung it in time with his stride.
It was a very nice hand. Oh, you started imagining just looking at his callused fingers, at the just-visible veins running from wrist to fingers.
If only he'd hold your hand the same way he was holding that phone. His grip soft, loose, then tightening suddenly when you... when what? Maybe his hand would grip yours tightly if you kissed him. Maybe if he saw another guy looking at you. Maybe, just maybe, if you simply asked him to.
You could feel your cheeks filling with colour as you stared.
You wanted to ask Light if you could hold his hand. You wanted to have the courage to just reach over without even asking.
But he hadn't said a word for a while now. Perhaps he was a little cross with you. Perhaps he was thinking about Kira. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. Any of the many options had you feeling horribly shy and awkward to just hold Light's hand. Your boyfriend's hand. So you just stared and imagined as the blood rushed to your head.
And then Light noticed.
He smiled. Probably the sweetest smile you'd ever seen from him. His eyes opened all the way, then narrowed to slits. He looked for a moment like he was going to tease you as he stopped walking, bending his head so his nose brushed yours.
But he didn't say a mocking word. He didn't say anything at all. He knew it would ruin the moment.
Light took your hand, his clasping yours at a perfect diagonal. It was warm, a little rough, and the best thing that had ever happened to you.
He ran his thumb over the back of your hand, chuckled at how you bit your lips, and gave your hand that affirming, possessive, strong squeeze you'd been hoping for.
A smile played over your face at that squeeze. It was the perfect hand-hold in every way.
It felt like...
Like he was holding your heart in his hands.
Bonus: How Misa Holds Hands 💝
She'd start off with her hands in the same position as Light does above, but much softer and more delicate. Misa would nuzzle into your side, then her fingers would intertwine with each of yours, her neatly painted fingernails tapping against your skin.
★━━─・‥…━━━☆
𝖎𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖙 ˏˋ⋆˖⁺˖⁀➷ 𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖗𝖊𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖌 + 𝖋𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜
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hi<3 if you can, can you do valeria and laswell with a gothic s/o? like someone who likes darker/morbid things and things like that! love your blog by the way! it’s definitely my favorite blog to come look at after a long ass day <333
Hey there! Sorry, but I couldn't really find too much on what counts as dark and morbid in the goth scene, so I wrote more general HCs, I hope that's alright still ^^;
Valeria and Laswell with a Gothic!S/O
Valeria: She’d most definitely be intrigued, but not too much. In all honesty, she doesn’t know too much about the subculture, she’s never really met a goth who was clearly one. However, if it makes you happy, that’s all that matters to her. While she won’t really know too many bands, or any at all, she’d be more than happy to listen to a few if you want her to. Yes, she won’t always have the time, but when she isn’t too busy she could put on some songs by Joy Division or The Cure, she really doesn’t mind. She can vibe to that sort of music, even if it isn’t her favorite. You’re more than welcome to discuss the literature with her, though. She’s probably never read a single gothic literature book, but she can buy you some. Anything from poetry to a regular novel, it’s quite alright. While she won’t be the best person to go to when it comes to discussing those, she’ll support you either way. However, something she could definitely enjoy would be going clothes shopping with you. The fashion is kind of nice, she has to admit, so she’d be more than happy to buy you whatever garments you desire. Will go out of her way to find something you might like as well. I can’t see her being too much into the history of goth culture, though. It’s nice that you are a goth, if you want to tell her about it, then you can and she’ll listen to you, but she likely doesn’t have the time to research everything by herself. Tell her about its roots and she can definitely appreciate you going against what’s mainstream and how it all came to be. She’s a very defiant and rebellious woman herself, so she definitely gets it.
Laswell: She knows so many people, I wouldn’t be surprised if she has worked with goths before. And even if she hasn’t directly, she’s likely seen quite a few walking around the city. She usually grows worried for them in summer since their attire is black, which makes it quite hot. However, she’d be very intrigued by you and your subculture. It’s something very near and dear to you, so she would put in the effort to learn about your history. Will give some classic bands a listen as well. She just really wants to have something to talk about with you. Besides, she gets to learn more about you. While she may not be the biggest fan of your interest in death, considering she’s surrounded by it more often than not, she’d be more than happy to indulge anything else it has to offer. Laswell spent a good chunk of life left alone with her thoughts, so she definitely knows a thing or two about melancholy, the state of the world and introspection. Maybe not in the same way you do, but she can definitely keep up in a conversation. She’s likely also unintentionally read some of the more popular gothic novels out there and liked them, so she’d make for a good discussion partner as well. While she doesn’t particularly understand the need to make your face completely white, she doesn’t mind. In fact, she thinks it looks quite cool, even if it’s not for her. However, the fashion in and of itself looks really good to her. Again, she wouldn’t want to wear it, but something about Victorian and Edwardian fashion has a certain something to it that she can’t quite place. Like Valeria, she’ll definitely buy you things she thinks you might like. Anything from a suit or a corset to a book about poetry. Beware, though, she will read the books before you can.
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