#ytau

[dontfeeltoohot]

If you feel like, ST YTAU prompt - steve and eddie sick with a shared cold but steve insists on looking after eddie despite being much sicker than he is?

Set November 2023 / 1 year 2 months

“Babe, seriously, lay down,” Eddie frowns, sniffling and wiping his nose with a tissue.

Steve’s been sick longer than he has, but he’s worse, not better. Yet, somehow in his head cold ridden state, he’s decided taking care of Eddie is a better idea then resting. And does he appreciate the fussing? Maybe a little, but Eddie needs Steve to lay down right the fuck now or he’s going to lose it.

“But you need tea, your voice is-“

“My voice isn’t half as bad as yours, Steve. I know you suck at relaxing but please lay down. Lay down with me, your poor sick boyfriend. That’s all I want,” the long haired man snuffles and gives a cough to really play it up. “Please?”

Steve sighs, the low grade fever he’s started running making him exhausted. “Fine, but you’re not playing fair.”

“Who said I was playing at all? You suck at taking care of yourself Steve.”

Steve sniffles and crawls back into bed, turning into Eddie just in time for-

“huh-EISHhhuh! huhTSCHHOoOo! SNGF!”

“Bless you, Stevie. Now, just stay close and let me fuss over you.”

#ytau #em #sh #my fic #asks #prompts

[thebanishedd]

“Hey guys! Hope you’ve be-snf! been having a good week. My best friend is in town, and she decided to bring her husky wh-snfSNF! which I’m pretty fuckin’ allergic to, and they’re staying at my place.” 

Rubbing his nose, Eddie can feel the tickle worsen, making his nose run, nostrils twitching precariously. 

“I definitely cahhn feel some sneezes, so I thoughh- iiKGshIEW! h’IHGKTCH’ew! hh! snfsnf! ihkTSCH’uhEW!” 

Eddie sniffles wetly and clears his throat, the itch not backing down at all. One more rub to the tip of his nose and his eyes flutter shut again. 

“aiihGkSHew! iheiKSHhew! hihKgshhuEW! Jesus, snfsnfSNNNF! Sorry, juhhst…ticklessobad-“ the last three words slur into each other as Eddie rubs his pink nose in tight circles. 

“ihgkSHHuhew! ihKhTtschew! oh my god..hh! hHH-ihDdsh’EW!” 

Eddie yanks a tissue out of the box, wiping away allergic tears that have fallen. He sniffles and gets a moment of peace, sighing. 

“As I was sayi’g, I thought I’d record some for you. It’s been a pretty cohhnstant tickle, uh-snfsnf! SNF! But with meds it makes it not as ba-iiHGkSHEW! ihkshhew! IHKTCHEW! fuck, not as bad.” 

Suddenly, like she knows she’s being talked about, Holiday; Chrissy’s small husky, pads into the office, collar jingling as she walks. 

“Speak of the devil,” Eddie jokes, rubbing his eyes more. “Hey girl, yeah, I’m tahhlking ab-snf! about y-you…fuck…”

His nose is twitching, mess accumulating on the divot above his lip. Slowly; stupidly, he pets at the sweet but massively furry dog. 

“So uh-snf! Husky’s have wh-whahhts called a…hh! an uhhnder coat, ahh-iHNGKshh’EW! ihghkSHEW! ihGKkTchEW! and it means-SNFSNF! in the war’ber mo’thds they blow coat.” 

Eddie can see the dog hair floating in the air, dander from the dog’s coat and skin no doubt filling the space around him. His nostrils quiver, messy and full, and his eyes shut. 

“B-Blow’ig chhhoat means thahhht…oh fuck thahht tickles-hh!” 

His breath catches as Holiday barks and he snaps his face downward, feeling more mess run from his nose. 

“ihKkishh’EW! huhiIGkTCHEW! hihGgSHEW! Means that her u-snfsNF! Uh’dercoat is shedding a’hd combi’g loose, which hh! hihkshhEW! ihGuhhKshh’EW! ahikshuhEW!! which makes the da’hder worse…Sorry guys, hold o’hd…” 

Yanking out a tissue, Eddie blows his nose and rubs at it for a moment, letting out an almost moan-like sound. 

“God, it’s just-snfsnf! tickling like crazy…” Holiday barks again and shakes her body, and Eddie groans.

“So H-hh! Holiday was just b-snf! brushed, but I don’t thingk it dihhd much…my nose is-snf! SNF! is ru’ddig ligke hell, and I cahh’d feel the da’hder all i’hd my he-hgKkshuhEW! ihgXTchuhEW! h-he-IHGKSHEW! head…” 

He shoos Holiday away, his whole face itching, eyes red and watery, a few tears rolling down his face. God dogs suck, why do they have to be so cute and perfect. 

“I’b gohdda get off so I c-cah’d wash snfsnfSNF! my face, ugh, fuck- iiGgKTchUHEW! ahiieKSHhew! hah’IGgKTCH’EW!” 

#ytau #wav #there is a tiny follow up for this #ill post in a bit #my fic

[jindoripup]

So what kind of content are yura doing on their YouTube channel 👀👀👀. 🐶

Yura do a lot of vlogs of their dates on their YT channel. They can be a bit rocky because they don't really know what they're doing and Bora is kind of bad at technology but people love them for their vibes.

Yubin is a model and Bora works in a dance studio so they like to show their clothing a lot. They're the loud and quiet couple but Bora takes care of Yubin and Yubin is charming and cute enough to make Bora feel fulfilled with the attention.

Overall a cute couple who are inexperienced with a camera.

#🐶 anon #YTAU #dreamcatcher imagines #dreamcatcher scenarios #dreamcatcher headcanons #dreamcatcher #yura #dreamcatcher sua #sua #dreamcatcher dami #dami

[allthe-queens-men]

Sometimes...men have long hair...and it's hot

#justifying their looks in the ytau to myself

[elsweyrfondeux]

The ignoble art of tumblr scam dm's is self cannibalising, and i'm here for it.

Whatever ai or bot they are using is clearly ripping off of itself and other bots and the whole thing ends up being a jarbled mess of incoherence.

For example, I would like to introduce you to "Hedy"

The astute may have noticed something wrong with Hedy, and thats the subtle fact that her sentences are batshit insane.

Perhaps its because she is "HM VII soo KeD" that she is unable to communicate, or maybe she is simply reaching out for assistance, hence the urgency.

I shouldnt be so qiick to judge though, im sure its just the one ocassion....

Oh,

Mirren here also seems to be in need of help, or a lobotomy, whichever is easier, she doesnt seem to want help however, as she just "want you to chill together"

How she knows about my shadow clone I have no idea, but me and them are hanging out right now, thanks for the advice Mirren, stay "usually and YTau Ebmy"

And then there is Amari

Amari🏫, sweetie, honey, babygirl...

Am i in danger?

Is this a threat?

Blink twice if you're being held against your will.

Amari🏫 here simply wants me to have fun, and quickly, but anybody using that level of emotes inspires nothing but concern for my life.

I do not quite understand the necessity of the house emote, but im not here to police anybodies identities, tock on Amari🏫 you crazy girl you.

So yeah, tumblr spam dm's are rapidly disintegrating and i couldnt be happier for it, obviously dont click the shady ass links, and dont reply to these bots.

Im just happy watching them burn.

#tumblr #spam bots #tumblr bots #rant #rb if you're so usually

[litsy-writes-fanfic]

My writer sin is I grossly underestimate how many words something is gonna be.

Idk if anyone remembers me promising a YTAU entry called "Infallible." That was supposed to be a short spinoff chapter. It's currently sitting at about 4k and I think it's still less than halfway done.

[softsnzstuff]

Plans tonight got cancelled so 90% chance I get to spend the night writing for all of you!!! ❤️🫡

Also got to help @dontfeeltoohot work on some ytau stuff and my dreams have been met LOL 🤣

[sunsafewriting]

I first found you through do a flip, which I loved, many weeks ago. In between updates I was starved for your content so I read the ytau, which I loved, and shortly after I opened favourable conditions, which makes me go feral. Target audience of ME. Bea's characterization makes me weep and despite only being two chapters out of I have no idea how many it quickly became one of the stories I hold closest to my heart. I won't be able to read the update for at least two more hours but I truly can't wait.

!!! Target audience of you!!!! welcome aboard pirate nonsense boat!!! I am so glad you're enjoying the stories and I hope you like the third chapter when you do get a chance to read it 😁 it's always very lovely to hear that one fic makes a reader go check out my others too 💛

And let me know if you have any ideas for the story! I have a rough outline for Favourable Conditions but it's squishy so I'm always open to suggestions 🤟

#thank you for this very sweet ask 💛

[keihtkogane-blog]

voltron + youtube au –> pidge

#pidge gunderson #katie holt #voltron #vld #vld pidge #pidge vld #voltron pidge #pidge voltron #vldedit #vld edit #voltron edit #voltronedit #voltron youtube au #youtube au #pidge #mine #my edit #ytau #au #edit

[wharferat-a]

HARRY HOOK    ——    16/??    ( personals don’t reblog. )

#𝐢𝐢. 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬. › visuals. #edits. #ytau tbt. #did i make this just for that au ? yes

[danganronpa-youtubers]

hey y’all mod hajime here to say I’m still alive like mod kiibo just don’t know...quite what to do around here! if y’all got any questions or requests send em in we need some new life in the inbox and I can probably get around to somethin :)

#mod hajime #not ytau

[dontfeeltoohot]

Have a tiny snippet of YTAU St/eddie bc I miss them!

XXXX

“ihGKsch’uhEW!”

“Bless y-“

“hihNGKSH’uhew!…h’eKSH’uh! sngf! Jesus Christ..”

Eddie wipes at his nose with his wrist and pushes back frizzy curls from his face before leaning against his boyfriend again, resisting the urge to scrub at his face. This is a repeat performance, his fourth time in an hour, and while the tattoo artist knows Steve’s no where near bothered, it’s still annoying.

“You okay?”

Steve’s looking at him with his eyebrows dipped in concern, but the slight sparkle in his blue eyes tell Eddie all he needs to know. Definitely not bothered. Holding out a hand, the coffee shop owner tugs him closer and presses a kiss to his hair.

“You’ve been a little more sensitive than usual today.”

“Yeah…not sure what’s going on, I’m not sick. Usually summer is your speciality…” he shrugs, wracking his brain.

Chrissy hasn’t been over in the past twenty four hours, so no way any Holiday hair could be around. He keeps his apartment fairly clean and there are air filters in the living room and his bedroom. He thinks about when this all started, realizing quickly that it has to have something to do with his boyfriend- that’s when it started, three hours prior when he’d arrived from work.

“Are you wearing a new cologne or anything?”

“Nope, I know you like the one I have.” Steve’s kind face makes him want to melt.

“Well, hate to tell you this doll face; or maybe not, but it’s definitely something to do w-with…snff! with you.”

Steve cocks his head as if he’s a puppy while he thinks, chewing on his lip. Eddie links their fingers together and uses his thumb nail to rub against the other man’s palm, an absentminded habit. His boyfriend looks ready to give up when he suddenly starts laughing.

“What’s so funny, Harrington?”

“I think you’re allergic to my new deodorant,” his soft hair swishes as he shakes his head.

Eddie rolls his eyes- that’s a dumb idea because deodorants aren’t strong enough to bother him, but just for show, the lanky man moves and smushes his face against Steve’s side, close enough he can smell the slightly spicy, aquatic scent of whatever new product Steve is using. And fuck.

“eiHHGktSH! hehIKSHhuhew! hihItCHH’uhEW!”

“Ding ding ding ding, we haaaave a winner.”

“Don’t look so smug,” Eddie huffs, rubbing his nose not against his wrist this time, but against Steve’s shoulder.

“Can’t help it. You look adorable and we have something new to induce with.”

#my fic #ytau #sh #st #em

[thebanishedd]

YTAU, No snz/illness Triggers for mentions of murder/death (non descriptive and only mentioned twice), smoking, Andrew fuckin Munson. Joyce and Eddie bond over a mutual person, and mother/son dynamics abound! Enjoy!

X X X

It almost happens the second weekend in December. 

She’s washing plates off when there’s noise behind her, not loud enough to be Will or Hop, but not quiet enough to be El or Steve. Turning, the forty nine year old woman smiles when she sees Eddie, the newest edition to their little group. Steve’s been a part of their family since he was in high school, helping out with Will and tutoring him when he needed it, welcoming El happily when they adopted her, hanging out with Jonathan and giving him tips from being a grade above him. The brunette’s been a staple for all of a decade in the Hopper household, and now his new boyfriend is slowly getting acclimated as well. 

Joyce has grown especially fond of Eddie, is the thing. The beginning of November had really kickstarted the older boy coming over, after he’d been so ill and Hopper had helped out. Before then, it had been Steve coming over, sometimes Robin, but never Eddie. She thinks maybe he’d wanted Steve to have his alone time with them, but after the hospital, the curly haired man had been showing up every week, sometimes more than once if the timing was right. 

“Hey honey,” she greets the small-framed man, her words reciprocated with a smile, the twenty eight year old's dimples on display. 

“Hey Mrs. Byers, I just uh, wanted to thank you again, for dinner.” 

His voice is soft, a far stretch from his general aura, all frenetic energy, tattoos, chains and loud laughs. At least, that’s what she’s experienced outside of the Byers-Hopper residence. Inside, when it’s just the six of them; seven if Jonathan isn’t working or with Nancy, Eddie’s quieter, a little less intense. She wonders if it’s because he feels comfortable around them enough to drop the ‘tough guy’ act, or if he’s nervous about Hopper being around. 

“Oh, you don’t need to thank me, it’s no trouble. It’s nice getting to have you and Steve around,” she assures, eyes crinkling at the corners. 

“Still…it means a lot, that you do this and open your home to us,” the man tugs at a curl that’s resting on his shoulder. 

“Well, it means a lot that you come over and put up with everyone,” Joyce jokes back. “If you really want to help though, you could take over drying?” 

Holding out a dish towel as if it’s a bone for a dog, Eddie takes it and starts drying when she hands him a newly washed dish. She looks at him, then, her mind flashing back to when she was a teenager thirty years ago. The mother’s been unsure of whether she wants to bring up what’s on her mind; has debated for weeks, and right as she starts to open her mouth, Will comes in looking excited about something, so she lets Eddie be pulled away, then finishes the dishes so she can join the rest of the family who are watching Elf, all sprawled out on the couches and the floor. The sight of everyone, even Jim, looking relaxed and happy makes her heart want to burst. Later that evening, when all the kids have gone back to their respective apartments and it’s just her and her husband, she brings up her thought with him, not for the first time. 

“I almost told him.” 

Hopper looks up with a furrowed brow from where he’s watching the news, laying in bed with only boxers and a t-shirt on. 

“Told who what?” 

“Eddie. I almost told him about his mom.” 

The look the words gain her tells her that Hopper isn’t surprised. 

“I thought you decided to wait until he was a little more comfortable, maybe around Christmas.” 

“It’s close enough. And he’s obviously comfortable here. I was going to tell him while he helped me wash dishes, but then Will came in and grabbed him.” 

“Maybe give him another week or two. Holidays are already tough,” Jim trails off and she knows he’s right. 

A couple weeks pass, and finally on the 21st she feels her resolve start to slip. The boys are back over and obviously happy to help decorate the tree Hop’s picked up to put in their living room. El and Will are sorting through handmade ornaments while Steve tests the strands of lights they’ll be wrapping around the tree. Jim is making his infamous hot chocolate. Seeing Eddie watching the scene in front of him, Joyce slips into the bedroom near the back of the house, grabbing a small, yellowed envelope that’s seen better days. Moments later, she sits next to the man on the couch, giving him a warm smile. 

“Hey kiddo.” 

“Hey Mrs.Byers.” 

“Having fun?” She notices his eyes flick to the envelope, but when she blinks his eyes are back on her own. 

“Oh yeah, guess I’m just not used to like…all of the chaos of decorating. Me and Wayne would just put up the tiniest most pathetic tree we could find, it’s honestly a running joke, and then make hot cider and watch Christmas movies. This is nice too, just different,” he explains, voice sounding nervous. 

“It’s definitely a lot of noise if Will and El are involved,” she jokes, then scoots slightly closer. “I have something for you.” 

His face contorts into confusion, just like she’s imagined it would, his eyebrows knit together, and his lips quirk downwards. 

“It’s not Christmas yet.” 

“It’s alright. This is something special.” 

Eddie’s body tenses, but his face is schooled into a false look of calm. Carefully, she opens the envelope and pulls out a handful of photographs, to which the man beside her shifts to look at, leaning closer. She can feel the moment he realizes what they are and can hear the catch in his breath. There’s a sudden intense stillness around the two of them. 

“That’s-” 

“My mom.” 

The words sound fragile, like if she talks too loudly it’ll shatter the entire moment- make it less significant somehow. 

“That’s your mom,” she confirms. 

The photo on top of the stack is of two teens, sitting on a picnic table, both with long dark hair, though one’s is far more curly and unruly. They’re both sixteen, wearing Wrangler shorts and ringer tees. Joyce remembers this day, back in July of ‘89, when the AC broke in her house and she and her best friend went with a few others to get ice cream. Mack, one of the boys a grade above them, had brought a disposable camera, and the photo was still one of her favorites. 

“How uh,” Eddie swallows, not taking his eyes off of the photo in her hands. “How do you…why-…you knew her?” 

“We were best friends from middle school on.” 

Joyce says it as carefully and gently as she can, unsure of how Eddie will react. It’s a big thing to find out- the woman you’ve come to somewhat trust is actually your dead mothers childhood best friend. Waiting patiently, she lets him process it, watching him slowly start to fully understand what this means. She has photos, stories, even some videos. When he doesn’t say anything, but continues to stare at the photo, she moves it into his lap, revealing the next one. 

Joyce and Teresa are in matching ice skating uniforms; probably around thirteen years old or so, both holding flowers, hair up in ridiculous up-dos, makeup caked on their faces. 

“She used to ice skate?” Eddie asks with surprise. 

Joyce feels like she could fall apart, witnessing this man find things out about his mom he never knew. 

“She did. She was great at it. I was always so jealous of her, but I was also proud.” 

She lets Eddie soak in the photo, then pulls out the one below it. It’s of Teresa only, her long curls wild as she looks at the camera, mid laugh. She’s probably around 19, holding a guitar. Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up, and after a quick glance at Joyce, he takes the photo from her, pouring over every aspect of it. The older woman moves off of the sofa for a minute, giving him some time alone. 

When she comes back seven minutes later; two cups of hot chocolate in hand, Eddie’s smiling softly, playing with a piece of his hair as he stares at the photo on his hands. Joyce sits down and a smile spreads on her face too when she sees the photo. Her and her best friend are in prom dresses, posing together with silly faces. 

“God, Reese saved up all her money for that dress,” the woman recalls, handing one of the mugs to Eddie. 

“Reese?” 

“That’s what I used to call her. And she called me JJ. I think we used the nicknames more than are actual ones,” Joyce laughs. 

“Your dresses are pretty cool,” he offers, still looking at the picture as he sips on the drink. 

“Your grandmother had wanted her to wear pink, but in normal Reese fashion she flat out refused and picked the brightest blue she could find.” 

As she speaks, Joyce realizes how alike Teresa and Eddie are, even without him really knowing her. She glances at the man and notices the same faint freckles over the bridge of his nose, sees the same sparkle in his deep brown eyes. His skin is pale just like hers had been, and his dimples are mirror images. Continuing on, a new photo is picked up, and the moment she sees what it is, the brunette wishes she could throw it away. 

Teresa is standing on the porch of a small trailer, beaming. Andrew Munson is standing behind her, dwarfing her small frame. She’s holding out her hand for the camera, a ring on her previously naked left ring finger. Joyce remembers it like it was yesterday- Andrew coming to tell her he was proposing and needed help picking a ring, planning the proposal, watching her friend squeal in excitement and start to cry as she said yes. Eddie swallows convulsively, grabbing the next photo to put on top of the current, only to pale, face losing all color. 

A very pregnant Teresa Porter Munson is standing with Andrew, looking tired, stomach ready to pop. The man looks tired too, but it’s different, his eyes are bloodshot but wide, and even in a simple photo, the energy around the man is obvious, as if he’s strung out on god knows what. Joyce is certain that during this particular photo it was a mix of cocaine and alcohol. 

“Eddi-“ 

“It’s fine.” 

His hands shake, voice wobbly as the almost thirty year old finally blinks. Joyce goes to wrap an arm around him when Eddie stands suddenly, setting the half empty mug on the coffee table. He holds the photo and keeps it in his grasp. 

“I need a smoke.” 

The front door is opened and shut in record time, the noise reverberating through the cozy house. Steve and El look over to her with confusion on their faces, but she merely shakes her head as if to let them know to drop it for now. 

X X X

Eddie hasn’t touched a cigarette since before moving back to Hawkins. He always has one in his pocket as a cruel reminder, but he hasn’t touched it, hasn’t even wanted to, until now. Hands trembling and desperate to do something, the tattoo artist yanks out his lighter, the photo of his mom and dad bending slightly as he does. 

Eyes snapping back to the glossy picture, the twenty nine year old sits down and lets his lighter and cigarette drop next to him on the wooden bench. His father is what draws him into it all. 

The thing is, he’s not seen a photo of his father since it all happened. The memories are still sharp in his mind, but the actual depiction of the man is a little fuzzy. Seeing his photo so casually is making Eddie’s entire body feel on edge, but he can’t stop staring. He can hear his voice instructing him how to cut a wire or how to read pill names even before he could truly read books. 

Shivering, only in a sweater, the musician isn’t sure how long he’s sitting outside with his thoughts, until Joyce is one again joining him. He’s grateful it’s her and not Steve- he doesn’t want to be a burden and put all this emotional shit on his boyfriend during a fun night. She lets her knee knock against his when she sits. 

“Do you have any questions?” 

He has too many to count, ranging from what her favorite color was to how his father acted around everyone. Instead, he asks what he thinks might be the most important question for himself. Turning, he looks at the woman who he now knows is his mothers age. 

“Were they in love? Did they actually love each other? Or was it a ‘we’re together for the baby’ situation?” 

Joyce’s eyebrows raise though he can’t blame her. It’s a blunt question, but he wants to know. The idea his mother stayed with someone just because of him and ultimately got murdered…it makes Eddie’s entire body ache. He thinks he knows the answer before she even has time to process it. It makes him feel weak. 

“I think…I think at first they loved each other, and then…then Andrew got into the wrong crowd, got mixed up in things he shouldn’t have,” Joyce’s words are obviously chosen carefully, which makes it even worse. 

“I remember hearing Hopper and Wayne talking that night, they said he wasn’t even on anything when he did it. They said he was a little drunk but not even enough to really do any damage. Which means he wanted to kill her while he was of sound mind.” 

Tears burn in the back of his eyes. He doesn’t talk about his mom to people. It took a while to tell his bandmates about her, and even with Chrissy it hadn’t been easy. Steve’s been different simply because of what he means to Eddie, but this, with Joyce? It’s hard. She knows more than he does about it all. Feeling wet on his cheeks, he looks up at the petit woman and sniffles. 

“…you’re right. He wasn’t. He was angry and buzzed, and he did a stupid thing. I’ll never forgive him for it.” 

The way she says it is so matter of fact it’s like getting sucker punched in the stomach. It’s confirmation. His dad is a piece of shit for numerous reasons- drug dealing, child neglect, abuse, murder. And he’s the guy's son. He’s the son of a fucked up asshole who hurt so many people. It makes Eddie want to crawl out of his skin. 

Tears fall and Joyce hugs him. It’s the most motherly type thing he’s had in over twenty years, and it only makes him cry harder. He misses his mom. He misses her so fucking much. Finally, his tears slow and Joyce shivers hard enough it snaps Eddie out of his sadness. 

“Oh fuck, I’m so sorry,” he fumbles over his words and stands, holding a hand out to Joyce, who takes it as he leads them inside, hoping maybe there’s a few more photos without his father. 

Steve is staring at them when they walk in, and though Eddie notices his boyfriend and Joyce share a look, the ex-jock doesn’t come over, instead leaving the two of them alone to finish their dive into old memories. Sitting back on the couch, the musician notices an old looking gift bag. It’s got envelopes and other things he can’t see stuffed inside. 

“I have something else for you…a few things actually,” Joyce smiles warmly. “There were things I had at my place she’d left around when she passed away. So I kept them. Maybe I should have given them to Wayne, but I was selfish back then.” 

Her eyes are so big and sincere that they make Eddie want to hug her again. Instead, he shakes his head and offers a semblance of a smile. 

“Nah, Wayne would have wanted you to have stuff too,” he assures, knowing his uncle wouldn’t have accepted it back. 

A large, well worn black tee is pulled out first, neatly folded. He shakes it out and smiles at the fact it’s a Journey tee, one from the band's 1991 tour. It’s thin and soft, and Eddie’s finger absentmindedly rubs against the single stretch hem. 

“We went to that concert at 18. Both of us snuck out and said we were staying at each other’s houses. We definitely got caught but it was worth it.” 

The knowledge that his mom liked Journey, that she snuck out of her house and lied just to see the band perform makes Eddie incredibly proud to call himself her son. Joyce hands him a necklace next, a small silver chain with a red tortoise guitar pick. He holds it tight before slipping it around his neck. By the time the woman has given him a few more photos and a few cassette tapes, he’s crying again, quieter and less obvious, but still crying. Eddie regains his control, wipes his eyes, and then puts everything back into the gift bag. 

“Thanks for letting me see everything Joyce,” he starts, but gets cut off. 

“They’re for you honey, I didn’t just mean to show them to you. You keep them. They’ll get more use with you.” 

Heart aching, Eddie nods as his grip tightens on the bag's handle. He’s not sure how he got so lucky, not sure how the town of Hawkins is small enough to lead to this, but he’s grateful all the same. When they leave, Steve hugs the woman tightly, saying something Eddie can’t hear. The car Eddie drives; bless it and it’s 2006 make, still has a cassette tape player. Excitedly, he yanks the first tape out he can find- Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Tango in the Night’. Big Love starts playing through the scratchy speakers and as they drive back to Steve’s apartment, Eddie can’t help the explosion of warmth that’s taken over his body. Maybe the Holidays aren’t all bad. 

#my fic #ytau #em #sh #jb #tm #am #wm

[allthe-queens-men]

(and we'll make this one a week long for funsies, but I'll be watching the results)

A they for your troubles.

#no promises #just trying to gauge the response

[hijabhumor]

I just wanted to practice this animu style on my phone ok

#dangan ronpa #touko fukawa #makoto naegi #naekawa #my art #? #I guess #I drew this in like 8 minutes Hsjdnfgh I'm sorry it's the weekend tho so I'll probably answer on the ytau blog and then draw a more serious #piece #they're sad

[samikozume-todoroki]

Why Glitter?

Y/N’s Group    |    Kenma’s Group    -   Masterlist

Summary: Y/n otherwise known as softeyesbeauty, has been Kodzuken’s biggest fan (and simp) for years. After a live stream with her friends her little (read: massive) celebrity crush gets out. What’s a fledgling, upcoming beauty youtuber to do when suddenly all eyes are on her?

A/N: uhm this is dedicated to ae ra, because i love her and she motivated me enough to post. also i have no idea how to title so yes the title sucks booty, i am sorry. This is 110% self indulgence for my love of gamerxbeautyguru YTAUs. I have read many bnha and haikyyu smaus and i cannot recall a gamerxbeautyguru so i came to fix that. pls do not mind the run on ramble, i can actually somewhat write

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Taglist:��@agaassi​ @chaelysian​ @ensworks @anhphunnnn

#kenma x reader #kenma x you #kenma kozume x you #kenma kozume x reader #why glitter #kenma kozume smau #haikyuu smau #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu!! smau