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flowercrowngods · 4 months

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who did this to you. part 3

🤍🌷 read part 1 here | read part 2 here pre-s4, steve whump, protective (but scared) eddie. now with robin!

The number rings in his head, echoing off the inside of his skull and sinking lower and lower until his heart strings join the symphony that leaves him shaking as the memory of Harrington’s slurred voice is drowned out by the dial tone that feels harrowingly like a flatline right now.

Said I’ll go blind. Or deaf. Or just… die.

Eddie doesn’t really feel like his body belongs to him anymore, or like there’s anything left inside him other than panic and fear and that stupid, stupid shaking that he can’t suppress even as he bites his knuckles. Hard.

The pain helps a little not to startle too much when the dial tone stops and a female voice begins speaking to him. Still he almost drops the phone, cursing under his breath as he pulls his hair to collect himself and get his voice to work.

“H— Hi, hello, Mrs Buckley? This is, uh. I. I’m. A friend of Robin’s, could you, uh—“

“Oh, of course, dear,” the woman says, and Eddie feels his eyes beginning to prick with how nice she sounds even through the phone.

Does she know Steve, too? Would she worry if she knew? Would she curse Eddie for not taking him to the hospital right away? Would she blame him if anything happened?

“I’m sorry? What did you say your name was?” she asks, repeating herself by the sound of it.

He blanks, for a whole five seconds, before he spots a note stuck to the fridge saying Don’t forget to eat, Eddie :-)

“Eddie,” he croaks. “Uh, Eddie Munson.”

“Alright, Eddie Munson, I’ll see if I can grab Robin for you. You have a good day, dear, yes?”

No. “Thanks.”

The hand clenched in his hair pulls tighter and tighter until the tears fall and he can pretend it’s from pain and not from— whatever the fuck is happening.

He waits, phone pressed to his ear with a kind of desperation he’s never really felt, and never wants to feel again. He doesn’t even know what to tell Robin; what to say. It’s not like they ever hang out or have anything to say to each other, so why would she—

“Munson?” Robin’s voice appears on the other end, a little too loud for Eddie’s certain state, and he does drop the phone this time, scrambling to catch it and only making the situation worse as it dangles by his knees.

He drops to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest and reaching for the phone again.

“Hi.”

“What do you want? How’d you even get this number? I swear, if you—“

“It’s Blue. I mean, Steve. Harrington.”

That shuts her right up, and Eddie clenches his eyes shut for a moment, hoping to keep the tremor out of his voice if only he takes a moment to breathe.

The moment stretches. And Robin’s voice is wary and quiet when she speaks again.

“What about Steve.”

Eddie rubs his face, leaving more dirt and grime to fill the tear tracks, and clenches his fist before his mouth.

“Eddie,” Robin demands, dangerous now. Nothing left of the rambling, bubbling mess he knows her to be on the school hallways. “What. About. Steve.”

“He… He’s hurt.”

There’s a bit of a commotion on the other end, before Robin declares, “I’m coming over. You tell me everything.”

“You— I mean, he’s in the hospital with my uncle, so—“

“I am. Coming. Over,” she says, enunciating every word as though she were making a threat. Maybe she is. But the certainty in her voice helps a little, anchors him the same way that Wayne’s calmness did. “And you tell me everything.”

Eddie finds himself nodding along, knowing intuitively that there is nothing that could stop her now. Knowing that he doesn’t want to stop her.

“‘Kay.” It’s a pathetic little sound, all choked up and tiny. She doesn’t comment on it.

One second he hears her determined exhale, the next she’s hung up on him and Eddie is greeted by the flatline again. He lets out a shuddering breath and leans his head back against the wall.

Breathing is hard again, but it’s all he has to do now, all that’s left to do, so he focuses. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold. His lungs are burning and there’s something wrong about the way he pulls in air and keeps it there, desperately latching onto it until the very last second, his exhales more of a gasping cough than calm and controlled.

It takes a while. Longer than it should. But with Harrington’s blood still on his hands, with his heartbeat in his ears so loud he can’t even hear the words Wayne used to say about breathing in through the mouth or the nose or… or something, he—

He’s fine. He’s home. Wayne’s got Blue, and Buckley is on her way, and… He’s fine.

People don’t just die.

They don’t.

He’s fine.

Eventually, Eddie manages to breathe steadily, the air no longer shuddering and his hands no longer shaking. It’s stupid, really, being so worked up over someone he doesn’t even really know. Sure, everyone knows Steve fucking Harrington, and everyone sees Steve fucking Harrington — whether they want it or not. He has a way of drawing eyes toward him even if all he does is walk the halls with his dorky smile and that stupidly charming swagger he’s got going on. Always matching his shoes to his outfit.

Eddie can relate.

Always reaching out to touch the person he’s talking to; clapping their back or shoulder, lightly shoving them in jest, ruffling their hair or chasing them through the halls, moving and holding himself like teenage angst can’t reach him. Like he belongs wherever he goes. Like he’s so, so comfortable in his own skin. Like the clothes he wears aren’t armour but just a part of him; a means of self-expression.

Again, Eddie can relate. He can relate to all of this.

It’s almost like the two of them aren’t so different after all. Just going about it differently.

And now he’s… Bleeding. Slurring his speech. Wheezing his breath. And Eddie feels protective. Eddie feels responsible. Like he should be there, like he should get to know more about him. About Steve. About Blue.

But he can’t. And he won’t. So he gets up with a groan that expresses his frustration and the need to make a sound, to fight the oppressive silence that only encourages his thoughts to run in obsessive little circles, and he hangs up the phone that’s been dangling beside him all this time.

He needs a smoke.

He needs a smoke and a blunt and a drink and for this day to be over and for time to revert and to leave him out of whatever business he stumbled into by opening the door to the boathouse and, apparently, Steve Harrington’s life.

But unfortunately, the universe doesn’t seem to care about what he needs, because just as he steps outside and goes to light his cig, he catches sight of a harried looking Robin Buckley, standing on the pedals of her bike as she kicks them, her hair blowing in the wind to reveal a frown between her brows. A wave of unease overcomes Eddie, an unease he can’t really place. Maybe it’s the set of her jaw, or the tension in her shoulders, or maybe it’s the worry and anger she exudes.

It never occurred to him before that Robin Buckley might not be a person you’d want to set off. And not because of her uncontrollable rambles.

“Munson!” she calls over, carelessly dropping her bike in the driveway and stalking toward him.

Almost as if summoning a shield, Eddie does light the cigarette. Pretends like the smoke can protect him.

She doesn’t stop at the foot of the steps, though, climbs them in two leaps and gets all up in his space with that unwavering look of determination — so unwavering, in fact, that it almost looks like wrath. Cold. Eddie wants to shrink away from it, not at all daring to wonder what could make her look like that upon hearing that Steve’s hurt.

I don’t wanna die, Munson. I never… I didn’t. With the monsters or the torture.

But those are the words of a semi-conscious teenage boy beat to a pulp, they can’t— There’s no way. Eddie misheard him, or Steve was talking about some kind of inside joke, using the wrong terminology with the wrong guy. It happens. It happens when you’re out of it, really! The shit he’s said when he was shot up, canned up, all strung out and high as a kite… He’d be talking of monsters, too, and mean some benign shit.

But the way Harrington looked, none of that was benign. The bruising all over his face, the blood still dripping from the wound by his temple or his nose, the way he held himself, breath rattling in his lungs, or—

“Hey!” Buckley demands his attention, giving him a light shove; just enough to catch his attention, really, and just what he needed to snap out of it. Still the smoke hits his lungs wrong and he coughs up a lung, further cementing his role of the pathetic little guy today.

“Hey,” he says lamely, his voice still croaking as he crushes the half-smoked cigarette under his boot. “Sorry.” He doesn’t know for what. But it feels appropriate.

She shakes her head, rolling her eyes at him as she crosses her arms in front of her chest.

“Tell me,” she says at last, and even though there is a tremor in her voice, she sounds nothing short of demanding. “I want the whole story, and I want it now.”

And so he does. He tells her everything, bidding her inside because he needs the relative safety of the trailer even though the air in here is stuffy and still faintly smells blue. He pours them both some coffee and some tea, because asking what she wants doesn’t feel right in the middle of telling her how he found her supposed best friend beat to shit in the boathouse he went to to forget about the world for a while.

She stills as she listens to him, staring ahead into the middle distance somewhere beneath the floor and the walls, her hands wrapped around the steaming mug of coffee. Eddie stumbles over his words a lot, unsettled by her stillness, her lack of reaction. She doesn’t even react to his fuck-ups. People usually do.

He wants to ask. Where are you right now? What have you seen? What’s on your mind? What the fuck is happening?

But he doesn’t ask, instead he tells her more about Steve. About how he seemed to forget where he was. About the pain he was in. About the smiles nonetheless. The way he reassured Eddie.

That one finally gets a choked little huff from her, somewhere between a sob and a laugh.

“Yeah, that sounds like him alright. He’s such a dingus.”

There is so much affection in her voice as she says it that Eddie can’t help but smile into his mug.

“Dingus?” he asks, hoping for some lightness, hoping to keep it.

But the light fades, and her eyes get distant again. Eddie wants to kick himself.

“Just a stupid little nickname. An insult, really.”

“Oh.” He doesn’t know what to do with that. If he should ask more or if he should say that he has a feeling Steve might appreciate stupid little nicknames. Especially if they’re unique. Especially if they’re for him. But what right does he have to say that now? What knowledge does he have about Steve Harrington that Robin doesn’t?

So he bites his tongue and drinks his coffee, cursing the silence that falls over them as Robin mirrors him, albeit slow and stilted, like she doesn’t know what to do either. Or where to put her limbs.

“Wayne’s got him now. I took him here, after the boathouse, because I didn’t know what to do. He said he didn’t want the hospital, said there’s…” He trails off.

Robin looks at him, her eyes wary but alert. “Said there’s what?”

It’s stupid. Don’t say it.

“Eddie?”

With a sigh, he puts his mug on the counter and stuffs his hands into his pockets. “He said there’s monsters. In the hospital, I mean. He said that.”

Instead of scoffing or at least frowning, Robin clenches her jaw and nods imperceptibly, her eyes going distant again. Eddie blinks, the urge to just fucking ask overcoming him again, but with every passing second he realises that he doesn’t actually want to ask. He doesn’t want to know, let alone find out.

He just… He just wants to go to bed. Forget any of this ever happened. But he can’t do that, so he continues.

“Brought him here and Wayne took one look at him and convinced him he needed a doctor. And, Jesus H Christ, he was right. I’ve never… I mean, those things don’t happen,” he urges, balling his hands into fists even in the confined space of his pockets. “Right? I mean… Shit, man.” He bumps his shoe into the kitchen counter; gently, so as not to startle Buckley out of her fugue like state.

“You’d be surprised,” she rasps, staring into the middle distance again and slowly sinking to the floor. There is a tremor in her shoulders now, barely noticeable, but Eddie knows where to look. Without really thinking about it, he grabs two of his hoodies he’d haphazardly thrown over the kitchen chairs this morning while deciding on his outfit and realising that it was altogether too warm for long sleeves today. But now, right here in this kitchen, the air tinged with blue, they’re both freezing.

Because fear and worry will take all the warmth right from inside of you and leave you freezing even on the hottest day of the year.

She barely looks at him when he holds out his all-black Iron Maiden hoodie to her, freshly washed and all that, but she takes it nonetheless, immediately pulling it on. It’s way too large on her, her hands not showing through the sleeves, her balled fists safe and warm inside the fabric. It would make him smile if only it didn’t highlight her stillness, her faraway stare, and the years he has on her. She’s, what, two years younger than him? Three?

It seems surreal. Everything, everything does.

Robin Buckley in his home, sitting on his kitchen floor, swallowed by a hoodie that is a size too large even for him, but it was the last one they had in the store and he doesn’t mind oversized clothes, can just cut them shorter when the need arises or layer them or declare them comfort sweaters for when he wants to just have his hands not slip through the sleeves on some days. And now Robin is wearing his comfort hoodie because her best friend was bleeding in his car earlier and then on his couch and now in his uncle’s car, and they never even talk, but he knows that Robin’s favourite colour is blue, but not morning hour blue because that makes her sad; only deep, dark blues.

Her favourite colour. Her favourite person.

It’s so fucking surreal.

He drops down beside her, leaving enough space between them so neither of them feels caged, and mirrors her position: knees to his chest, chin on his forearms. Staring ahead.

And silence reigns.

“Your uncle,” she says at last, finally breaking the silence that’s been grating on Eddie’s nerves and looking at him, really looking as she rests her cheek on her forearms crossed over her knees. “Tell me about him.”

There is a gentleness to her voice now despite how hoarse it is. Maybe she’s just tired, too. And scared. At least the shivering has stopped.

Still Eddie frowns, confused as to why she should be breaking the silence to ask about Wayne when everything today has been about Harrington. About Steve. About deep and dark blues.

“Uncle Wayne?” he asks. “Why?”

“Because,” she begins, and sighs deeply, works to get the air back in her lungs. Eddie wants to reach out, but instead he just clenches his fingers a little deeper into the fabric of his hoodie. “My best friend is hurt very badly and the only person with him is your uncle, and I need to know that he’s in good hands. Or I swear to whatever god you may or may not believe in, and granted, it’s probably the latter, but still I swear I’ll give into my arsonist tendencies and burn down this city, starting with your trailer if you don’t tell me that your uncle is a good man who will do anything in his power to make sure that boy gets the help and care he needs. And deserves.”

Her jaw is set and her bottom lip trembles, but it doesn’t take away from the absolute sincerity in her threat.

“So, please,” she continues, her voice breaking just a little bit. “Tell me. Tell me about your uncle.”

Tell me about your favourite person.

Eddie swallows, and mirrors her position once more, so she can see his eyes and know he’s sincere. Because he’s learned something about eyes today, about how much in the world can change if only you have a pair of eyes to look into.

And he nods, looking for somewhere to start. “He’s the best man I know. He’s the best man you’ll ever meet.”

She clings to his eyes. Searches them for the truth, beseeching them not to lie. He lets her.

“Took me in when I was ten, because my dad’s a fuck-up and my mom’s a goner. Took me in again when I was twelve after I ran away. Makes me breakfast and I pretends the dinner I make him is more than edible.” He smiles a little, because how could he not? “He’s my uncle, but still he’s the best parent anyone could wish for. Writes those little notes that he sticks to the fridge, y’know, the one with the smiley face? Tells me to eat, because I forget sometimes. I tell him to drink water, because he forgets. First few years, he’d read to me. And the man’s a shit reader, has some kind of disability I think, and at some point I learned that he wasn’t reading at all. He was telling me stories all the time, conning me into thinking that the books were magic, and that every time I’d try to read the book for myself, the story would change.”

There’s a lump in his throat now, and his eyes sting again. But Robin doesn’t seem to fare any better than him if her wavering smile is any indication.

“There’s no one,” Eddie continues, “who will make you believe in magic quite like uncle Wayne. Or in good things. And d’you wanna know what he told Blue when he said he was scared of going to the hospital?”

Sniffling, Robin shakes her head.

“He said, Okay. Then we do it scared. And all of that after he just… with that patience he has, told him everything that was gonna happen. And that he’d be there with him through it all. That he knew the doc and wouldn’t let anyone else near him, and that there’s no need to be scared at all.”

He sighs, breathes, stills. Swallows, before looking back at Robin.

“So, if there’s one person who’ll make sure that boy gets the help and care he needs and deserves…”

“It’s uncle Wayne,” Robin finishes his sentence, her voice still hoarse, but Eddie likes to think it’s for a different reason now.

“It’s uncle Wayne,” Eddie says, nodding along as he does.

There is something like understanding in Robin’s eyes now, and Eddie hopes it’s enough. Enough to calm the spiking of her nerves, enough to settle the coil of freezing nausea that must reside in the pit of her stomach, enough to let the next breath she takes feel a little more like it’s supposed to be there.

He wants to say something more, wants to reach out and reassure her that everything will be okay, but he can’t know that. He doesn’t feel like it’s entirely true, let alone appropriate right now.

There’s something in Robin’s eyes, in the way she holds herself, like she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like she accepts his words at face value but doesn’t really believe them. Like she’ll only rest when she’s got her best friend back in her arms and hears the story — the whole story — from him.

And Eddie doesn’t fault her, because the thing is, he doesn’t know what happened. Steve said that Hagan came at him, but that’s really all he got out of him before he started talking about death and shit, and Eddie really didn’t want to ask any more questions then.

So they sit there for a while, the silence oppressive and unwelcome, clumsy and awkward; Robin’s mouth opening and closing a lot, like she wants to ask questions but doesn’t dare to ask them — and Eddie doesn’t know if he’s glad about it or not. Doesn’t know if he wants to hear the kind of questions asked with that kind of stare.

It is only after a long while, when Robin’s shoulders start shaking again and she buries deeper into the hoodie and her own spiralling thoughts, that Eddie breaks the silence again, replaying in his head the last moment between him and Steve.

“He’s not gonna break,” he tells her, aiming for gentle and reassuring.

What he doesn’t expect is the minute flinch, the jolt shooting through her body and the pained expression it leaves her with. What he doesn’t expect is what she says next.

“You know,” she begins, her voice as far away as her eyes, and it’s like she doesn’t even know she’s speaking. “Sometimes I wish he would.”

What?

Eddie blinks, swallowing hard.

“Just for, just for a break. Just so he can rest. Let the rest take over for a while.”

That… He doesn’t— What the hell does that even mean?

“Like maybe then the world would… snap back.” She snaps her fingers, just once. This time it’s Eddie who flinches. “And everything bad would disappear. But it won’t. And he won’t.” She swallows. Then quietly, almost inaudible, “He won’t break.”

And the way she says it… It was reassuring before. And now it feels like a burden. A curse.

Who the fuck are you, Steve Harrington? And you, Robin Buckley.

Eddie shudders, knowing he doesn’t want the answer to that anymore. He doesn’t want the questions either. So he buries his face in his hands, closes his eyes, and breathes. The adrenaline has worn off by now, the repeated panicking that added fuse to the fire has ceased now, leaving him worn out and strung out, tired and exhausted. He pulls up the hood, burrowing into the warmth.

And then he stills. His usually twitching, fumbling, fiddling body falling entirely still beside Buckley.

It’s like time stops for a while there, even though Eddie knows that it’s dragging ever on and on. He’s inclined to let it, though. He’s too tired, too exhausted to really care about what time may or may not be doing.

“Why’d you call me?”

It takes a while for Eddie to realise that Robin’s spoken again, asked him a question out loud, the cadence of it different to the endless circles of questions Eddie’s got stuck in his head since the early afternoon tinged in blue against crimson.

He lifts his head, tucking his hands underneath his chin, and looks over at Buckley. Her hair is dishevelled now, her mascara smudged and crusty. Her lipstick is almost all gone, with the way he sees her biting and chewing on her lips.

“I… It seemed like the right thing to do, y’know? He kept repeating your number. In the car, it was like… Sounds dramatic, but it was like his lifeline, almost. Repeated it so often it kinda got stuck.” He shrugs. “Seemed important, too.”

Robin frowns; a careful little thing. “How’d you know it was me?”

“Well, he just talked about you. Y’know. Tell me about your favourite person, I told him, because that’s the thing you gotta do to keep people, like, talking to you. Not shit about what day it is, or what. Just, y’know. Let them talk about things they like. Things they’ll wanna tell you about. ’N’ he talked about you.”

She’s quiet for a while, letting his words sink in. And Eddie wonders if she knew. That she’s his favourite person. If he ever told her. If maybe he took that from him now. It’s a stupid thing to worry about, really; the boy was bloodied and bruised on his couch just an hour ago, there are worse things at hand for Eddie to worry about. But now he wonders if he just spilled some sort of secret. Some sort of love confession.

“Did you, I mean… Are you guys, like, dating? Did I just steal his moment?”

Robin huffs, but it’s more like a smile that needs a little more space in the room, a little more air to really bloom. It’s fond. She shakes her head, her eyes far away again, but closer somehow.

“Nah,” she says, and the smile is in her voice, too. Eddie kind of likes her voice like that. “We’re platonic. Which is something I’d never thought I’d say. Not about Steve Harrington, y’know?”

And the way she drags out his name… Eddie can relate. Like it means something, but like what it means is nowhere close to reality. Nowhere close to what it really means. Nowhere close to Blue.

Robin sighs, the sound more gentle than it should be, and leans her head against the cabinet behind her. “We worked together over summer break. Scoops Ahoy.” Her voice does a funny thing, and her eyes glaze over as she pauses. Eddie waits, his lips tipped up into a little smile, too; to match hers.

“What, the ice cream parlour?”

Robin hums, her smile widening at what Eddie guesses must be memories of chaos and ridiculousness. “I wanted to hate him,” she continues. “But try as I might, he wouldn’t let me. Or, he did. He did let me. Just, it turns out, there’s no use hating Steve Harrington, not when he’s so… So endlessly genuine. There’s nothing to hate, y’know? And then he…”

She stops, her mouth clicking shut as her eyes tear up a little. The Starcourt fire. Eddie remembers the news, remembers the self-satisfied smirk when he’d heard about it, remembers sticking it to the Man and to capitalism and to the idea of malls over supporting your friendly neighbourhood businesses.

Guilt and shame overcome him as he realises that they must have been in there when it happened.

“He saved your life?”

Robin’s eyes snap toward him, wide and caught, and Eddie raises his hands in placation.

“In the fire? Were you there?”

“Y—yeah.” She swallows hard, avoiding his eyes. “The fire. He saved me. Yeah.”

Eddie nods, deciding to drop that topic right there; to lay it on the ground as gently as he can and cover it with bright red colours so he never steps on it ever again.

“He must be your favourite person, too, then, hm?” he steers the conversation back away into safer waters.

“He is,” she says, sure and genuine and true. “It’s just. I don’t think I’ve ever been anyone’s favourite. He has a lot of people who care about him, you know? A lot of people he cares about. Even more numbers memorised in that stupidly smart head of his.” She huffs again, burrowing deeper into Eddie’s hoodie, pulling the sleeves over her hands some more. “It’s stupid, to be so hung up on this. Is it stupid?”

“I don’t think it is,” Eddie says, scooting a little closer to Robin. “Like, I don’t even know that boy, right? But even I know that he’s got some ways to shift your focus or something. Give you a silver lining, or something to take the pain away even when he’s the one who… I don’t know, that’s probably stupid, too.”

“Nah,” Robin says, scooting closer to him, too, until their sides are pressed together and she can lay her head on his shoulder. “It’s not stupid. You’re right; that’s Steve for you. ’S just who he is.”

It is, isn’t it?

You’re so blue, Stevie.

She’ll say something corny when, when you ask her, jus’ to fuck with you. Sunset gold or rose, jus’ to mess with… But is blue.

Blue. ‘S nice.

Yeah. Yeah, he is.

Eddie lets his thoughts roam the endless possibilities and realities that is Steve Harrington, the depths he hides — or won’t hide, maybe, if you know how to ask. Where to look.

Maybe he’ll find out, one of these days. Not about the terrible things that leave him scared of the hospital, not about the horrible things that have him speaking of death and dying like he’s accepted them as a possibility a long time ago.

He swallows hard and shakes off these thoughts, because things like that just. They don’t happen. They don’t happen to blue-smiled boys who trust you to be kind even when they’re beaten straight to hell. And they sure as hell don’t happen when uncle Wayne’s around.

Nothing bad has ever happened when uncle Wayne was around.

And he wants to tell Robin, wants to make that promise. But part of him can’t bear the thought of being wrong. So he keeps his mouth shut and just sits with her, their heads as heavy as their hearts as they wait.

The sun is long gone when the phone above him rings again, spooking and startling them out of their timeless existence.

“Yeah?” he answers, his heart hammering in his chest. “Wayne?”

“Hey, Ed,” Wayne’s voice comes through the phone like a melody. Calm and steady. Robin is scooting closer, and Eddie shifts the phone to accommodate her so they can both listen. Somehow, they ended up holding hands — and holding on hard. “We’re coming home now.”

🤍🌷 tagging:

@theshippirate22 @mentallyundone @ledleaf @imfinereallyy @itsall-taken @simply-shin @romanticdestruction @temptingfatetakingnames @stevesbipanic @steddie-island @estrellami-1 @jackiemonroe5512 @emofratboy @writing-kiki @steviesummer @devondespresso @swimmingbirdrunningrock @dodger-chan @tellatoast @inkjette @weirdandabsurd42 @annabanannabeth @deany-baby @mc-i-r @mugloversonly @viridianphtalo @nightmareglitter @jamieweasley13 @copingmechanizm @marklee-blackmore @sirsnacksalot @justrandomfandomstm @hairdryerducks @silenzioperso @newtstabber @fantrash @zaddipax @cometsandstardust @rowanshadow26 @limpingpenguin @finntheehumaneater @extra-transitional (sorry if i missed anyone! lmk if you don't wanna be tagged for part 4 🫶)

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #who did this to you #something has Shifted in this part and i wanna do a literary/meta analysis of it but i dont wanna ruin the fun or be annoying but hhh #also sorry if you don't like this bc it's so different from the other two but the sudden adrenaline crash will do that to ya #we'll get Blue back soon don't you worry 🤍#also eddie's mind is running in circles and he doesn't have wayne to stop him this time sooo if this feels repetitive and redundant???#then let's pretend it should read that way actually (and also eddie is an obsessive little guy he'll ruminate forever if he doesn't have #an outlet sooo)#also rambling fumbly robin going deadly still over an injured steve is the hill i will die on actually like that just makes me feral #dio words

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anewp0tat0 · 1 month

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it doesn't feel real to me fellas. but I don't have time to sit by and chat and unload unfortunately so I'll just drop this and be on my way, cya kind folks very soon ✌️

not professional but I liked how his eye looked goddang it. I knew I was screwing myself but I did it anyway

#don't worry ill actually be screaming in my reblogs now and again if I dont get to make a post soon with my tremendous mound of m #messy words #guyz😫 i watched it 3 days ago and i still cant believe it happened #it's definetly cause i dropped out of the anticipation train for the last like what 5 months? just slapped me like a truck with a hand #bb jeezez christ im so happy fellas it's so goofy and best of all it feels safe(I COULD BE VERY WRONG)#ya know me tho. things in life be pretty tough so i keep my hoping and optimisim for the escapism spaces 🙏😌#anyway i can't stick around and tag ramble im afriad. if i don't come back soon #at the very least count on me during the summer!#.... but also no way im not atleast watching what everyone will be saying about this season #i have an ambition to draw something small after every episode release. so we'll see!#kuroshitsuji #black butler #kuroshitsuji fanart #fanart #sebastian michaelis #ciel phantomhive #digital art #weston college arc #black butler anime #kuroshitsuji anime #kuroshitsuji: kishuku gakkou hen

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sysig · 14 days

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Blood sugar levels (Patreon)

#Doodles #ISaT #Siffrin #And implied Isa and Mira from offscreen but it's fine lol #Kinda sorta spoilers in the tags be warned #Man these poses were fun to draw - hand poses and body and ah <3 Fun!#This was one of those comics that came to me pretty much fully formed and then I had to do it - it was very fun which I'm very glad for!#Probably the funnest were the first - third - and fourth panels :D #The way their cloak falls around them ah pretty <3 #That big spooky eye hidden under the brim of their hat <3 #That one was really fun to edit too :D Writing [FAILURE] elsewhere on the page and then overlaying it :) Fun!#I wonder if Siffrin would die of starvation faster than normal due to the [redacted]#And since that would kill him it'd make him loop back - even tho it's also somewhat powered by food?#It's curious! I like it :)#I imagine his innate magic also powers it somewhat but hmmm recursive #Not that he died here anyway :) One of those fun ones before Loop spells it out for him :)#I have to wonder if All those loops we don't get to see are mundane hmm ♪ How many of them are forced out of Sif's mind so we as the player #Will just never know ♪ I suppose we'll never know! Haha #The exhaustion of having to keep his body running it's really the depression simulator #Sif :( They're gonna worry about you anyway!#It's amazing what our minds just refuse to process when we're in The Sads™ haha

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not-so-mundane-after-all · 2 months

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Don't get me wrong, I want Hunter and Omega to share a big, emotional, one-on-one scenes and more screentime together like the next person but I really do not understand people who claim that their relationship has been "put aside" or "ignored" or even "forgotten" and that that there's a "lack" of their father-daughter scenes in season 3.

How can y'all say that when shit like this is happening before our eyes?!

THIS IS NOT FATHER BEHAVIOR TO YOU??? HUNTER WAS NOT FUCKING AROUND WITH THAT STERN, PROTECTIVE PARENT TONE

#as for the emotional moments #don't worry people we'll get it #I feel it in my gut #the bad batch spoilers #the bad batch season 3 #the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #tbb hunter #tbb omega #hunter and omega

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littlelightfish · 2 months

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We alredy know what's Chilchuck's worst nightmare. What if I told you that it was canon?

His daughters have alredy been eaten. His wife was eaten too. His family are all dead. His worst nightmare has come truth. And he for sure feels like it's partially his fault, because it's the Winged Lion doing, yes, but who helped Laios get here? Chilchuck. And who's daughters and wife are now dead because of it? Chilchuck's. The suggestion of recreating them tells us that they've alredy been eaten. The way he says it makes it feel like it's too late. They're dead. Because of him. Of his actions. Of his job. The irony of it all is actually quite cruel. He makes a union so he can prevent bad things to happen to his race, to his family, and then, and he works at the union. And now, because of his job, he got them all killed.

He doesn't even know how his daughters are until way later, I don't even know if in the manga they send letters to him during the feast, because I know they don't go to said feast. So Chilchuck doesn't know if his girls are alright until, again, way later. We know they don't die because, well, there's this comic of them going to meet Laios, the new king. But if not for that, who could tell us they didn't die on the monster appearances? I can imagine that after the feast Chil went stright to check on them. Because he loves his daughters, and he cares for his wife. He sucks at communicating it, yes, but he does.

He doesn't want to risk his family's safety. But he, unknowingly, unwillingly, indirectly, did. He got them eaten by those demons because he helped his friends achieve his goal. Because he cared about Falin and wanted her to be human again. Because he cared about Laios and didn'twanted to see him loose his sister. Because he cared about Marcille, Senshi and Itsuzumi. He cares so much about everyone and wants to help everyone (in his own way), that he doesn't think that the result would, inevitably so, be the worst outcome for him. The one in wich work and private life get mixed together. His job as a member of Laios's party ended dragging his family in, despite his best efforts. His job ended up, not only endangering the whole word with demons, but his family. His four precious girls. It ended up almost killing them (probably it killed them for some time because getting eaten by those demons works wierd).

Worst part? He didn't have the time to be mourn over what he 100% sure thought was the complete loss of his family. He was in a hurry to survive himself, so he pushed those sad feelings and tried his best to help who he had left. Later on he finds out that the demons spitted out people. And he seems shocked with some kind of surprised relief.

He looks how everyone that got eaten was alive. And he can't quite either believe it nor understand it. He is really confused. So they didn't die? Are my daughters ok? Is my wife ok? Did everybody survived? Are they alive? He dares to hope that they're all ok and pulls into a box his feelings again, saving it up for when he has the time to be overwhelmed about this all. He has a feast, trying not to worry, but worried sick. Then he goes home and checks on them.

Give this poor man a break and a beer...

#do not.#make him miserable #make him suffer #because #he is a father and a husband and is worried sick about his family well-being all the time #they are why he acts like he does #why he tries to keep family and work in separate rooms #but he fails so catastrophically its almost comical #like #luckily they were alright #but its a miracle his hair doesn't turn white right away #maybe he writed a letter to his daughters during the prepararions for the feast #that would explain why he doesn't have a single white hair after this #but we'll say he disnt for the sake of angst #dungeon meshi #chilchuck #chilchuck tims #chilchuck angst #dunmeshi #dunmeshi angst #dungeon meshi angst #dungeon meshi spoilers #delicious in dungeon #if you want to write something about this #dm me the fic #i NEED TO SEE THE ANGST #@ me if you don't want to dm me but i might not see it because it would get lost in my notifs :(#my shit

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beetlepassing · 1 year

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good show girls!

#homestuck #adventure time #vriska serket #marceline the vampire queen #we'll get em next time homestucks #don't worry guys i gave marcy very good sunscreen before this photo was taken #twe23 #tumblrwoman election 2023 #🎷🐛

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zhouxiangs · 11 days

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MY STAND-IN (2024) | Episode 3

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royalarchivist · 1 year

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Wilbur: Everyone give it up for Alex Quackity! Thank you.

A close-up of one of the TNTduo hugs from the Lovejoy concert :')

#Lovejoy #Quackity #Wilbur #TNTduo #Wilbur Soot #Not even sure who to credit for this video because it's been reposted like. A billion times.#I'm sharing it because I did the zoom + tracking so we get to see the hug better #but I'm going to update this with the video credit as soon as I figure out who the OP is #I know most fans don't care about video crediting but I DO #anyways #Also don't worry I'm not going to spam everyone's timelines with every single video from the Lovejoy concert #I'm picking and choosing the best ones #I'll see if I can compile a multiple POV video #but most people are reposting the same videos over and over #so we'll see how that goes #Also it's worth repeating: I use the TNTduo tag as a DUO name #not a ship name #You are never going to see R/PF on this blog lmao #Gosh. The way he puts his head on Quackity's shoulder :')))#my heart is soft #makes me think about how Quackity said he was proud of Wilbur #hang on I'm gonna post that #December 11 2022 #The lights are always so pretty at these concerts

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wyllaztopia · 1 month

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taking a break from animations - back to the good ol' asks

#i do have a killer draft that i need to finish #we'll get there guys don't you worry #killer will fly high so high he will fly #wyllaztopia rambles

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gallusrostromegalus · 7 days

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Second AEIWAM question: does Orihime get a sword?

Like, not even a zanpakuto, just a sword, because I like giving pretty girls swords.

Uhhhhhh... Kinda?

NSFWish Spoilers With a Warning for Gore, Teeth and Blood ad NO Context Below The Cut:

I'll let y'all speculate wildly in the comments :)

#AEIWAM #An Elephant Is Warm And Mushy #This fun little guy does not turn up until Book two so You'll have a while to speculate #cw gore #cw Blood #cw teeth #hella proud of how this title card turned out #we'll see what chapter it actually is when we get there #but the title is sticking #...actually wait you get to see them for half a second sooner than that.#Don't worry about it :)

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dronebiscuitbat · 7 days

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Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 2)

Uzi felt herself being dragged out of sleep mode. Something she wanted to cling to heavily, she was warm, safe, happy, she moved closer to the heat source, mumbling a "no” as it seemed to try and move away.

Then it stopped, before enveloping her again, followed by a deep, strong rumble that did nothing but make her more comfortable.

“Uzi, come on, if you're dad walks in on this he's going to have a system crash.” A voice spoke to her, she recognized it, she smiled.

“Let him… he sucks.” She mumbled, and another rumble went through her. A pressure on her back, guiding her, and lingering for just a moment.

“Come on. At least let me go drink something before I overheat.” At that she felt herself get pulled completely out of sleep mode, her eyes flashed back to her visor with a groggy grumble.

“N?” She questioned, not quite awake. Why was he here again? And why was she so warm?

“Yeah? Are you going to let me get up?” He had a laugh tucked in his words. Uzi opened her eyes, only to look directly into a honeyed visor.

Her mouth went dry, memories of the sleepover invading her head, the movie, him overheating, his sleek armored body-

Ack, No! What the hell? Drones didn't even have anything to look at!

Oh but it was worse, she was on top of him, his arms wrapped around her waist and his tail wrapped around her leg, her chest pressed against his, feeling his core hum underneath her.

Oh… Oh no…

Her face exploded in blush. Every ounce of her body suddenly becoming ice. She scrambled off him, throwing herself off the bed with “ohgreatrobojesus” tumbling out of her mouth right before she hit the floor with a thud.

N was immediately next to her, checking to see if she was okay.

“You good? I'm so sorry! I didn't think I would scare you awake!” His hand was on her shoulder, already apologizing for something that wasn't his fault. Stupid crush, stupid cute golden drone boy, dammit.

“Bite me! I'm fine, you didn't. I just, wasn't expecting- whatever.” All her shields came up at once, trying to grip for something familiar despite how soft she felt. N thankfully only laughed, stepping back and stretching his tail.

“Good! I was worried I spooked you. You know you're really cuddly in your sleep?”

Oh Robo-god, how… how did he still not know? After everything that had happened in just this one night, how had he not figured her out by now? Did he know? Was he just pretending he didn't? Or was he actually that dense?

“Oh… uh sorry.” She apologized, turning to him after doing her best to conceal her fluster, only for N to look horrified.

“I didn’t mean to imply it was bad! It's really nice you can relax like that with me! It let's me know I'm being a good freind!”

He was… actually that dense. And Uzi had never been happier about having a crush on an idiot.

He's not an idiot, he's just dense, there's a difference.

“Still, s-sorry for keeping you pinned down.” She offered. Still feeling the need to apologize for using N's body like a personal heating pad without asking, even if he looked like he hadn't minded in the slightest.

“It's okay! I could still breathe, nothing like being pinned to a wall!”

Man sometimes the shit that came out of his mouth was concerning. It wasn't often, but sometimes he would reference how he was mistreated by J, V tended to just ignore him, which annoyed her, but at least she wasn't physically abusive.

She was glad she'd vaporized the bitch. Twice.

“Oil stash is in the mini-fridge, help yourself.” He immediately whipped towards it, burying his face into the space beneath her desk.

“Tanks!” His muffled voice cheered, pulling out an oil can with a straw. Chugging the container like it was water. Oil running down his cheek and threatening to drip from his chin.

Honestly, Uzi wouldn't ever admit it, and felt weird admitting it even to herself. But watching him display his more… murdery side always excited her, like he was dangerous to be around and she was cool and edgy for being able to tame the beast inside him.

The only problem with that fantasy is that N was probably the safest being in a hundred miles to be around. And the beast inside was an overly excited dog.

Still, she could sometimes pretend.

He finished, wiping his mouth before training his gaze on her, she felt her neck prickle, damn he looked predatory sometimes-

“When's the last time you topped up?” He asked, realizing that he'd drunk from her personal stash and hadn't noticed any other container.

“Yesterday. Don't worry, I haven't been ignoring it… it kinda won't let me…” She thought back to the first time she'd drunk the stuff without being, for lack of a better word, Possesed.

She was curled up in a ball, sitting in the pod. Looking reproachfully at the cannister of oil N had put in front of her. The same N sitting across from her, trying to hype her up.

“You need this, if you don't have it you'll go on a rampage again. And I know you don't want that.”

“It's still from a worker drone. It's still blood, I… I don't want it. Please don't make me.” She'd been in hysterics, only a week after she'd killed half her classmates did she start hungering for more. Temperature slowly ticking up.

“Uzi, I won't let you burn yourself up.” N had replied, looking steely, he moved slightly closer, picking up the canister and holding it out to her.

She took it with a shaky hand, she hadn't recovered from loosing control, waking up terrified, or waking up drooling, or both. She didn't want to hurt anyone else, she couldn't, she didn't think her conscious could handle it.

So she tipped it into her mouth, and the oil slithered down her throat.

She felt both relief and disgust hit her at once, making her immediately want to vomit. She would have, had N not grabbed the container and forced it to stay in place.

“Don't vomit, I know you want to. I did at fist too, drink slowly, stop thinking about where it comes from.” He had a hand on her back, the other slowly tipping more in her mouth.

She hated it, she **loved** it, it was sweet and warm and rich, like the best mixture of coolant she'd ever tasted. Tears pricked on the corners of her visor. Fuck, was this what she was now? She really was a freak.

A monster.

“Thats it… it's okay. Don't cry Uzi, it's okay.” N's voice was soft, and he was rubbing circles into her back to relax her. Slowly she did, taking the container from his hand and holding it herself, draining the liquid from it.

She finished it, visor blurry from the tears, N wiped what was left from her mouth with his thumb, looking at her with a soft smile.

“Are you okay?” He asked, and the worker drone blinked back at him for a moment before Uzi launched herself into his chest, choked sobs escaping her, her arms wrapping around his neck, gripping his shoulders so tight that if it was any other drone it would hurt.

N wasn't a monster, he was the nicest person Uzi had ever met and then some. But he still needed oil, and he'd killed for it, countless times, but it still wasn't okay was it? That she craved it, that the desire was there just under the surface?

“Yeah… that's what I figured.” He said sadly, holding her tightly as she sobbed uncontrollably into him, his arms went around her, holding her close, then his tail, and then they were shielded by his wings, as if they were cocconed in thier own little world.

“You're not a monster, it's not your fault.” N said into her hair, almost reading her mind, sobs turned into hiccups and whimpers, feeling the warmth of his core humming underneath her.

“W-why does it h-have to be me?!” She said in a warbled, watery yell, pressing herself against him further, she felt him stiffen, then relax, a hand petting her hair.

“You're so strong, you're so brave, and smart, if it was anyone else they'd already be dead.” He complimented her, her beanie slid off as he ran his fingers through her hair. She sniffed, despite her current state she felt a blush creep up her visor.

“B-bite me, you don't actually mean that.”

“Yes I do. Would I ever lie to you?”

She was pulled out of the memory by N's hand on her shoulder, head cocked the side as if he expected something from her.

Had she been ignoring him?

“Oh! Sorry, did you say something? I kinda zoned out…”

“I just asked if you needed me to get more oil for you, I don't want you going without.” He repeated, not looking annoyed at her in the slightest, which honestly kinda made her feel worse.

“Nah, I can get some from the nursery.” She brushed him off, walking to her door and leaning against it for a moment, looking back at him.

“It's not dusk yet, and I'd feel weird just leaving you in my room… wanna come with? I don't think you've seen the nursery before.” If she was being even more honest with herself, she just wanted him put of her room so he wouldn't snoop. He… didn't need to find her dair-journal, it was a journal.

Not that she thought N would intentionally voilate her privacy, but just the thought of him stumbling upon her stupid sappy fanfiction about him- no shut up made her want to never give him the chance.

“Oh! Babies?” He hummed, grabbing his overcoat and hat from where they hung on the side of her bed.

“There might be a couple. People have started to have them more after you and V stopped… you know.”

N smiled, beginning to pull off his shirt before he saw Uzi standing there and paused, sheepishly motioning for her to turn around.

She did, facing the door as she heard N fumble with his clothes, and a muttered “Oh Biscuits” under his breath.

“Problem?” She hummed, trying not to think about how broad his should- freaking stop brain why.

“No! Er well yes, but I got it!” She heard more shuffling, then the distinct sound of N's claws unsheathing. Then more sounds of N getting increasingly frustrated.

She turned around to find N struggling with his belt, mostly because his tail was caught in it, and he was trying desperately not to stick himself while trying to use his claws as a crowbar, lifting up the belt so he could pull his tail free.

“How did you manage that?!” She laughed as N looked dejected, returning his claws back to his normal hands and awkwardly wringing them.

“I haven't ever taken the coat off before.” He mumbled, and Uzi just giggled, coming up to him and grabbing the wire of his tail, and slowly unweaving it from the fabric of his belt.

This was what he meant by sweet, Uzi didn't make fun of him when he made mistakes, at least not seriously, and he felt less dumb and less scared when he did make one. She'd often just explain what he got wrong or- like now, just help him out.

“Least I can put mine away, this looks like it can be a nuisance sometimes.” She pointed out, seemingly almost done with her task.

“Sometimes, and the vial is really sensitive too, I think it's to make sure we don't break it…” as he mentioned it, Uzi's palm grazed the nanite vial in question, sending a brief but powerful bolt of input up his tail, making him wince.

“Sorry… said that a second too late.” She said, also looking like she winced with him. But he just smiled.

“S'okies, it wasn't on purpose, you're also trying fix my screw up, so can't complain.” He gave her a thumbs up as he was finally able to pull his tail free.

“You can still complain. Also it wasn't a screw up, just a… wardrobe malfunction.” At that they both laughed, Uzi looking down at herself in her light yellow shirt.

“Right, my turn. Then nursery.”

#md uzi #md n #serial designation n #biscuitbites #murder drones uzi #murder drones n #murder drones nuzi #nuzi #murder drones #n and uzi #uzi doorman #so many tags #they're in love your honor #and make me feel the warm fuzzies #Don't worry we'll get to V

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transvampireboyfriend · 9 months

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part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8

Steve and Jonathan go setup the cabin before they start unpacking.

Steve opens the windows, takes off the couch covers and dusts off the coffee tables while Jonathan takes care of toiletries and then they get the bed sets and start making the two bunks and the big bed in the main room.

Steve has mostly shaken off his freak out about Eddie saying all that stuff about him and Steve reacting by practically shoving his fingers in his mouth.

Robin helped. She always does.

She's been telling him to make a move on Eddie for months, but Steve keeps overthinking it.

He likes Eddie so much, it just feels impossible Eddie could like him that way too.

So, whenever Eddie says something like what he said in the car, Steve's head cannot compute it.

It doesn't make sense. Steve came out to them all ages ago. If Eddie thought of him like that, surely he'd have made a move by now, right?

He's the loudest, most unashamed person Steve has ever met, he's so unapologetically himself, he sticks by the stuff he likes no matter what, of course he would've made a move.

But he hasn't. And so he doesn't, Eddie doesn't like Steve like that. He's just nice.

He's so nice.

Of course he's not gonna make a big deal of what Steve did in the car. Steve's still a little embarrassed but he knows Eddie would never give him a hard time over something so silly.

Robin reminded him of that too, as soon as they got out of the car and Steve made mortified eyes at Eddie's back as he watched him go stand by the lake.

"You're kinda drowning in a glass of water there, man," Robin said, ruffling his hair.

Steve laughed, escaping her hand and glaring at her.

"I bet he didn't even think twice of it!" she offered, then when he didn't look convinced, she added "He said a bunch of stuff about you, did you think it was weird?"

Steve shook his head "Of course not. it doesn't have to mean anything"

"Exactly." Robin agreed then, rubbing his back. Steve sighed, leaning his head on her shoulder.

So, Steve is mostly over it now. Robin is right.

But, that doesn't stop Steve from stealing glances at the grill through the bedroom windows, where Eds and Nance are making hot dogs, as him and Jonathan make the beds.

Jon must notice, because when they switch to the second bunk, he comments "You know, you can let him down easy. it doesn't have to be a big deal"

Steve immediately drags his eyes away from Eddie and looks at Jonathan.

"What?" he asks,

"Eddie" Jonathan presses, Steve stammers,

"Wh-?"

"Oh come on, he obviously has a crush on you, man." Jon says, "And it's fine if you don't feel the same you know? you can talk to him as your friend, he's a cool dude- I don't think he'd be-"

Steve finally finds his words and interrupts Jonathan.

"Wait, no. Back up. Eddie doesn't have a crush on me." Steve states.

Jonathan scoffs but when he looks at Steve's face his half smile fades,

"Are you serious?" he asks,

Steve looks around them like his answer is written on the walls.

"Didn't you hear what he said in the car?" Jonathan demands "I thought that was the whole reason you were freaking out!"

"I'm not- I'm not freaking out." Steve excuses "And he doesn't have crush on me, if he did he would have made a move by now" he explains.

Jonathan gapes at him for a bit before he answers.

"Okay, one: you have not stopped looking at him since we got out of the car;" Jon notes, "And two: you flirt with all of us except him, you shut him down when he gives you a compliment and you always refuse to dance with him when we go out. Why would he make a move?"

Steve feels his eyes go wide and his stomach drop.

"Shit. Do I?" he asks "No, I don't flirt with you guys" he adds,

Jonathan snorts and gives him a non-plussed look.

Fuck. Okay maybe he does, it's a past-time of his, sue him.

"I-" Steve scrambles "How do I shut down his compliments? I don't do that" he tries,

"You cough and redirect or you laugh and deflect," Jonathan supplies, apparently had those at the ready, damn.

"I didn't do that in the car" Steve counters,

"Robin changed the topic. And you two share a brain" Jonathan states,

Steve covers his eyes with a hand. He hoped it hadn't been that obvious.

"Ohmygod. Fuck. And I do refuse to dance with him" Steve remembers, he's afraid Eddie will figure him out if that ever happens,

"Uh huh, but you dance with us," Jonathan reminds him,

So Eddie had made a move. Several, if Jon's to be believed.

"Fuck. Fuck. Eddie thinks I don't like him," Steve realizes, "Eddie might be attracted to me and he thinks I don't like him at all" Steve despairs,

"I mean," Jonathan placates, "you do spend a lot of time together, I'm sure he knows you like him"

With this realization, at the sight of the tiniest possibility, Steve feels his despair dissolve every excuse he's ever had to hide his feelings.

"No," Steve explains, dragging his hand down his face "No, he thinks I don't like him like that. He doesn't know I'm attracted to him!"

"Wait. You are?"

"Yeah!" Steve confirms, "It's the reason I freak out around him! I can't trust I won't throw myself at him if we dance and I'm always embarrassed of my reactions to him flirting or complimenting me cause I don't want him to find out. I don't wanna ruin our friendship" Steve explains

"Oh." is Jon's helpful reaction.

"Yeah, oh." Steve says,

"How are you so sure he has a crush on me?" he asks Jonathan after a bit,

"Well," Jonathan starts " First of all, who doesn't?"

Steve laughs despite himself "Shut. Up!" he says, balling up the sheet in his hands and throwing it at Jonathan's head, he dodges it easily and picks it back up.

"Second of all," Jon continues, like there was no interruption, "everything Eddie said in the car. And third, just how he generally acts with you." Jonathan shrugs, like it's so obvious, "He shares his songs with you first, he always lets you pick the movie, he cooks your favorite meals, he makes us buy your favorite dessert, I could go on, it's no very hard to tell,"

"And yet-" Steve interjects, laughing a tad bitterly.

"Give yourself a break, Steve." Jonathan tells him, "Nobody thinks straight when they have a crush,"

"Har har" Steve deadpans at the pun.

"That was completely unintended, I swear." Jonathan defends, "I meant it's not hard to tell from the outside. I bet if you really thought of it you could come up with signs you've missed too",

"I don't wanna assume-" Steve muses,

"Then don't." Jonathan tells him, "That was more or less what I was gonna tell you anyways, only now its the opposite"

Steve gives him a confused look.

"Just- You don't have to go ask him out this second," Jonathan explains, "you can just start letting him see that you find him attractive. You said your reactions embarrass you, you keep hiding them, I bet he'd love to see them if we're right about how he feels." Jonathan goes on,

Steve thinks about all the redirecting and hiding he does with Eddie, just so he doesn't find out Steve feels this way about him. If he has a chance to be with Eddie he knows exactly where to start.

"And if we're wrong he won't be an asshole about it." Jonathan says, "I'm 100% sure of that. You can have a big conversation if you want but I know that can be hard, so you can do easier stuff first"

"Like flirt with him" Steve supplies, maybe a little too excited by the prospect.

"Exactly." Jonathan smiles, "Helps that you're not bad at that",

"I'm not the only one" Steve shoots back with a wink.

Jonathan laughs, "There it is" he says, throwing the balled up sheet back at Steve.

Steve chuckles and catches it easily, "Okay. Alright, then. This- I can do this" he states.

"Yeah." Jonathan agrees, "Don't think of it like a huge change, just remember you're only letting him in a little bit, trying to figure out if he feels the same, and if he doesn't, that's cool," he reminds him.

"Yeah." Steve repeats, "Yeah you're right. That makes sense." he agrees,

"I mean it doesn't." Steve adds, "I can't believe he might be attracted to me but- thanks, man. I really appreciate it"

Jonathan smiles and reaches out to clap his shoulder "Anytime, dude. You're my friend, you can talk to me whenever, I'll be happy to listen." he says. Steve can't help thinking Will is so lucky to have him as a brother.

"You're really good at this." Steve tells him, "But, you know, I'm here for you too man, anytime." he offers.

"Thanks, Steve" Jonathan smiles,

Steve smiles back and untangles the bedsheet in his hands, and then they get back to work on the second bunk.

part 4

#steddie #steveddie #steddie headcanon #stranger things #platonic stonathan #not tagging stobin bc it's not that central here but you know they're always central in my heart.#we'll get more of them further down the road don't worry #anyways. I'll upload the next part later today :)#.#steddie lake fic

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