Bad: Are you willing to do everything in your power to destroy them?
Foolish: Uhhhhhh, maybe? It kinda depends on like–
Bad: To get Leo back!
Foolish: Umm...
Bad: To get our children back, Foolish?
Foolish: Well, ok–
Bad: Will you do anything no matter how many [trying not to laugh] grandmothers get in your way?
Foolish: What are we about to go into battle and hop on a horse and start hacking down grandmas? What do you- what do you mean?
I'm making an observation. Are you willing to do ANYTHING?
You keep using the word "anything" anything and I feel like we have to be clear: "anything" is very uh, very broad–
Bad: Listen–
Foolish: So like, for example, what if all of a sudden you were like "We can only save one Egg, and to save it, you have to kill the others, and the last Egg standing–" like that seems like an extreme, like–
Bad: Whoa, whoa, no no no, anything except hurt the Eggs
Steve doesn’t really know why he’s agreed to this. Well, he does know. He needed to escape Hawkins, anyhow, and Billy had given him an opportunity—kind of.
They aren’t best friends, they aren’t even friends—they tolerate each other at best. Steve knows Billy’s ‘you should come down to California and visit me someday’ had been pure courtesy but Steve was suffocating at his parent’s house, he wanted nothing else but to be as far as possible from everything and everyone—so he took it as a literal invite.
And so here he was, rotting away in a small, old flat in Chula Vista, about to, probably perish away and die from a heatstroke at the sweet age of twenty-one.
Steve grunts to himself, he’d kill for something icy cold right now but he doesn’t wanna get up from this filthy couch—and especially, he doesn’t want to enter the kitchen while Billy and that dark-haired neighbor of his do God-knows-what in there.
But he’s so hot.
Fuck it. Fuck Billy and fuck his neighbor.
Steve gets up from the squeaky leather couch in a clumsy move. He can hear their muffled voices as soon as he takes a few steps. She’s giggling at something Billy’s said, Steve can’t make out the what—Billy’s voice is low, reverberating through the walls. Ugh.
The flimsy, old kitchen door creaks as Steve pushes it open. He doesn’t even want to look at them but it’s kind of impossible not to when this is, like, the tiniest kitchen he’s seen in his entire life and they’re right there by the small window.
Billy’s smile fades when he lays eyes on Steve. The girl has turned to look at him too, and Steve suddenly feels like a lion trapped at a zoo, gazed at by stupid, brainless spectators—which is exactly what these two are to him at this exact moment. Stupid tans and perfect bodies, smoking by a dirty, pigeon-shat window, giggling and flirting and whatever.
Deciding to try @/galacii's Shattered September! Kinda just started out with something very "nothing" and simple. Normally I don't pull through with 30 day prompt challenges so we'll see how far I get with this 👀
Absolutely fascinating social phenomenon that every year on sept 11 following 2001 for YEARS we replayed extremely graphic footage of the event all day in schools with little to no actually teachable context for the students who were too young to remember it, unintentionally creating these odd aftershocks of trauma for people who weren't alive for it.......compared to today where the hot topic in school is banning books deemed """"inappropriate"""" for kids
Another fascinating phenomenon I've noticed just this year is that lot of people too young to remember for some reason seem absolutely SHOCKED that yes we actually did see everything happen live in front of our eyes as it happened and remember it clear as day, which fascinates me because I know a lot of them are old enough to have experienced the first phenomenon and if anything I would have thought we're MORE plugged into catastrophe as it happens with social media and cameras in every pocket on every street around the world. The only thing I can think of is we lost that unity in broadcast journalism and now they can't wrap their heads around it??
Anxious? Nervous? Feeling the impending doom? May I interest you in ”chugging so much coffee as fast as u can”!! With this lowprice solution, you too can think about all of ur flaws, mistakes and future stresses with quadruple the energy and efficiency !! It is almost free !! What are you waiting for ???? Pick up the phone and order ”chugging so much coffee as fast as u can” today for the low-price of one (1) anxiety attack at 1-800-MISTAKE !!! You will not regret it !!!!
Heyooo. I am still riding the canon bi Buck high and can't wait to see the mess that is the madney wedding lmao — and to watch Tommy be the hero of the day and his reward to be a dance with Buck at the hospital, in their tethered clothes. (hey, I can dream, alright?)
Anyway, I decided to give you a bit more of the jealous eddie fic, which, listen... I am turning it inside and outside in my head, trying to figure out how to go forward with it, but so far all I could come up with is; rewrite most of it. welp, c'est la vie.
This comes directly after this snippet.
The gun went off and Buck just stood there, frozen with Eddie’s blood splattered all over his face, until he got pushed to the ground.
It felt like a million years before his brain finally caught up with the events around him, kicking his instincts into gear and making him crawl under the truck and get to Eddie.
After that it was a blur of desperation and undivided focus.
Stay alive please stay alive don’t leave me don’t leave me don’t leave me god I can’t live without you please don’t leave me—
After Eddie’s gurney left his sight, everything went silent, as if someone had hit the mute button on Buck’s life. His mind was empty, his eyes unfocused, his body numb. He was completely out of it.
That’s when Taylor arrived and took him home, so he could clean himself up before seeing Christopher.
And fuck, he had to be strong, he knew that, but it was too hard and heavy, he couldn’t hold out for long. Bobby’s text was the last drop to break the dam, the relief of being out of the woods, the hope of not losing Eddie made his chest impossibly tight and there was no more holding back.
Of course, Christopher took it in stride like always. God, he loved that kid so much, he was the strongest, the sweetest and smartest kid he’s ever known — his own person, yet a perfect extension of his dad — and Buck has loved him like his own from the start. That was probably the first sign of many that he missed.
And then it hit him. When he first went to see Eddie after he woke up, running down the corridors to his room; Buck’s heart was beating out of his chest, but it still skipped an entire beat when Eddie smiled at him as he walked into the room.
Oh.
It came over him in waves, like he was watching the tsunami close in on him again, his emotions like water, pushed his body from side to side, constricted his lungs and made him feel like death was just around the corner.
The funny thing was… he knew it right there and then. He had no idea about how he felt before any of it and yet he knew; Eddie was it.
It was too much and too soon, overwhelming in a way he couldn’t qualify as good or bad, but suddenly breathing was hard around Eddie.
So when Taylor made a move, Buck clinged to it desperately, hoping against hope that it would be enough to shake the realisation. He knew better of course, but it seemed like the perfect hiding place at the time.
tags under the cut 💛
✨I have been tagged by and am tagging the ever so lovely