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Response From Here
@fallesto (Cazador)
ç«:
Truly, she did not anticipate a werewolf to answer the large ornate door. Usually people she meets with some form of nobility about them have your typical humanoid being at every beck and call â wherever it was her to-be servant meandered, it was interesting.
"I ask for your lord specifically because it is an assumption that all lords know all there is to their grounds, and surely they have seen a woman with black veins cross his borders. I doubt she would wander inside, but it doesn't harm to ask." The despot has no intent on explaining why the woman in question would have black veins. It was just part of the process. If anything, she has at minimum 10 and half an hour before she is completely void of life. A husk. A hollow body of what once was: The Despot's servant.
"I take it one of your ilk â with great senses â has surely perceived her? The scent of noxious perfume and blood, a green dress, probably whimpering in a corner somewhere with a hand over her left side?" It was all said so nonchalantly, that the woman's wellbeing is the least of concern. There has been no reason for why. Only that the despot, whom in Baldur's Gate is simply known for her pallor and beauty, is seeking the other out. No one alive knows about the servants: How they are made, who they serve, know what they look like...
A sigh leaves rosy lips, and a hand comes up to motion a pause with an open palm and stretching digits, probably to compose. Usually people keep to their homes, the process appearing as ceremorphosis â forcing them into hiding from scrutiny. It was far easier to have this transpire to a nobody in the Outer City, but someone from the Upper half? Far too many ends to cut. Like this one.
"I know she's here. I can feel where she is by distance, but by all technicality going into someone's home is trespassing â and I rather not have this blow out of proportion."
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Things Iâve heard today
Iâm too young to be bi
Me being groped by a dude at school isnât actually assault and itâs not a big deal
âI know youâre bi and have a chance of being married gay but I donât think gay people should get married.â
âstupid theaterâ
âyou sing too loud and itâs bothering the rest of usâ
#Tw SA mention#sorry for that#agsjcbskfbskdjs#bi!!!!!#I am I promise#Venting ish#Feel free to ignore this if you want
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based on this post, because at this point i think it's safe to say @unclewaynemunson is actually my muse or something (hi anna i hope this is okay even though itâs, like, way angsty and way too long huh)
đ€ also on ao3
Two days after Starcourt, concussed and beaten, Steve has a seizure.
His ears are still ringing when the doctor gives him a stern glance over the rim of his glasses and pronounces him unfit to drive. No, in fact, he claims Steve poses a real danger to himself and others if he sat behind a wheel again.
Immediately, Dustin and Robin jump to promising that they won't let him do that, and in another life Steve is sure he would be grateful, or at least reasonable about it, but in this one he has a horrible second where the floor falls out from under him and he wishes, for just one second, that his head had been shaken a bit more, just enough toâ
It makes him nauseous even thinking that. Everything does, lately. He closes his eyes against the offensive brightness of the hospital room and lets the sound of Dustin's and Robin's voices wash over him as he takes a moment to really take in what the doctor's orders entail.
He can't drive anymore. No more late night drives to watch the street lights pass and lull him into a safer state of mind than his bedroom walls could. No more driving the kids to their DnD sessions, no more taking Robin anywhere at the drop of a hat, no more bickering, no more reign over the music, no more stern glances through the rearview mirror, no more "Shut up, Wheeler, or you're leaving the car."
No more "Thanks, Steve!", no more "I'll bring some of mom's cookies if you drive us to the arcade", no more "You're the best" or "You're a lifesaver" or "I owe you one".
No more place for him in the group, no more use for him, no more...
No more. Nothing. Now he's just Steve, would-be lifesaver, 'has-been babysitter', 'could-have-been somebody until he lost his license to drive because he wasn't quick enough, wasn't good enough, wasn't strong enough'. Just Steve.
He doesn't know how to be that. Who is Steve Harrington without his car, without the one thing he was good for anymore?
The pit in his chest is deep enough, dark enough to pull him in, and for a moment the very thing he is good for is misery.
He waits until a nurse makes everyone leave for the night, and then he cries. It makes his head hurt, pressure building behind his eyes, but he's used to being in more pain than any teenager should be in, so he curls in on himself and hides underneath the blanket.
Here's to hoping the others won't notice just how useless he is now. Not too soon, anyway. He wants another month. A painless month filled with laughter and hugs, and then they're free to leave, to pull back slowly. Calls unanswered, radio channels changed so he won't reach them, sheepish apologies and rain checks, because now Nancy will drive them. Or Jonathan. Hell, maybe Max will take the risk just to avoid him.
---
He gets a week of daily visits in the hospital, the doctors and nurses insisting on keeping him here, a watchful eye on his vitals, scanning his head three times during his stay, insisting he has head trauma of a severely worrying degree.
Nancy picks him up from the hospital and it's awkward, tense, too much left unsaid between them but there's no one else to do it. Steve's hands are shaking, gripping the seatbelt the whole way home â and then his heart falls when he sees his Beemer in the driveway. The glorious, trusty, wonderful, best fucking car anyone could wish for. His baby. His.
He throw up into the brushes when he realises that he won't get to take it on one last ride. Maybe he shouldn't be so attached to a car. Maybe he's being pathetic about it. At least he can explain away the fat tears in his eyes now, and Nancy doesn't press.
The first thing he does when Nancy is gone is calling Robin, and she's excited when she says, "I'll come right over!" and Steve wants to ask, how, but he keeps his mouth shut, biting his lip. It's stupid, but the thought of someone else driving Robin over makes his skin crawl.
"Alright," he says instead, his voice raspy, and he hangs up before she can detect something in his voice.
After that, he goes outside again and runs his hand along his Beemer. It's shining in the sun; he had it cleaned the other week, the full program, every step in the book to celebrate four years since he got her.
"Four years, huh," Steve says, his nail catching on a minor scratch that isn't even visible but might be more familiar to him than even his home. "Damn good four years."
He's talking to his car. God, it's so stupid, it's so stupid, it's so stupidâ
Steve's knees give out and he gives in to the desire that's burning under his skin sometimes, the desire to just sit down and ignore the world. Because everything is less real when you're sitting down somewhere you're not meant to be, and the ground is warm, and Steve just wants the world to go. His head is leaning back against the warm metal of the driver's door, and he closes his eyes for a while, his head still spinning, his ears still ringing, everything still awful.
After a while, thereâs a shadow followed by a weight settling down between him, a head landing on his shoulder, a hand taking his.
"I'm so sorry, Stevie," Robin says. The lack of dingus makes it more real, somehow. More tragic. More pathetic.
"I'll live." And it feels a bit like a lie.
---
He gets his month. A month filled with barbecues in his backyard, the kids coming by after school to check on him, and Robin has practically moved in. Joyce picks him up on Friday nights for dinner at their house for a change of scenery.
Itâs a good month, though Steve feels trapped. Caged. A bird without his wings, a boy without his car. Steve without his one purpose, the one thing he was good for. He has to be picked up because they donât trust him walking, or they have to come to his place. And soon the worried glances that are thrown his way are too much, caging him further, reminding him of what this is. A pity party â quite literally. No one trusts him anymore, thereâs always someone jumping to help him, not caring or listening to his protests.
And he canât leave, because âWhat if you have a seizure in your room?â
It makes him want to scream.
Maybe it shows, or maybe everyoneâs just fed up with him now that he canât provide his taxi services anymore, but after summer the Byers dinners stop and the kids pull away.
âTold you thatâs all Iâm good for,â Steve says with a mean, pained huff as he hangs up the phone. Claudia said Dustin isnât home, but he could hear the kids in the background. It hurts more than it should.
âWhat is?â Robin asks from her place on the floor with her back against the wall.
âNothing.â
She frowns. âCome on, dingus, you canât start and thenââ
âNo, I mean it. Nothing. Thatâs what Iâm good for now that I canât drive them anymore.â
âBullshit!â she says, and it comes out so harsh that it makes Steve flinch. He swallows. Right. Robin isnât hear to listen to him whine about how he feels like he has no place in this town, in this group, in this life anymore now that his head is so fucked up he canât even be trusted to live alone.
Thatâs why Robin is here, right?
The babysitter becomes the babysitted⊠or something.
She doesnât care, not really. She doesnât listen. She doesnât ask.
âSteve, theyâre kids.â
âYeah, well. So am I.â
He turns away from her and ignores the tears threatening to fall. The door to his room falls shut and he would love to lock it just to make a point to the world at large, a point that it canât shut him out if he shuts himself in, but he knows itâs too risky. If he has a seizure, Robin needs to get in.
He canât even stay in his room alone without supervision anymore. What kind of a fuck-up is he becoming, where does it end? Heâs already managed to chase away the kids, even Dustin only checks on him sporadically anymore, and it hurts. He wants to know why, wants to know what he did, how to take it back, how to get them back.
But then he remembers how it all started. Dustin needed a ride and someone to take a beating. Both of which he canât do anymore without risking life and death of himself and others. Heâs a safety hazard. Heâs useless. Heâs Steve fucking Harrington, which doesnât mean anything anymore.
---
And then itâs spring, and Chrissy Cunningham is found dead in Eddie Munsonâs trailer. The group is back together again, the Party assembled once more. And Steve, for a just one second, hopes that he can get it right this time, that he can do this again. One last time. Because Vecna slash Henry slash One surely is it.
But then they turn on him â even Eddie looks confused, which is a rather adorable look on him â the moment Steve tries to get a word in.
âYouâre not coming with us, Steve.â Thatâs Dustin, and Steve just rolls his eyes, but then Robin joins in.
âYeah, no, Iâm with the gremlin on this, dingus.â
âHey!â
âOh shut it, Henderson.â She turns to him, her eyes softer but no less burning another hole inside Steve. âWe canât risk it, Steve.â
âRisk what?â Itâs a challenge. His shoulders squared, his jaw clenched, heâs challenging her, and itâs cruel.
She holds his eyes, her expression icy, like heâs stupid. âWe canât risk you dying. We canât risk you getting a seizure mid-fight or just by being in the Upside Down.â
âHey, woah,â Eddie tries to get a word in, but Steve wonât hear him as the desperation, the loneliness, the feeling of being caged like a bird and still the only human left on a desolate planet, all that breaks free.
âWe all know that dying in a fight is the only thing Iâm good for anyway.â
The silence among their war council, as Max dubbed it, is deafening.
âWhat?â Lucas sounds small when he asks that, and Steve closes his eyes. He hadnât meant for him to hear that. Any of them, actually. They werenât supposed to know.
âSteve, thatâs not true.â Dustinâs words are filled with disbelief and worry, and Steve hates the worry, it makes his skin crawl, it makes his heart race, it makes his fists clenched and it makes him want to scream again.
âWhat else then, huh?â he asks weakly. âWhat else is there? None of you even talk to me anymore since Starcourt. Since summer.â
âBecause you were pulling away,â Nancy explains, though her words are weak and her mouth clicks shut when Steve looks at her.
âBecause weâre scared.â Max this time, and Steve doesnât want to look at her, doesnât want to tell a child that sheâs not allowed to be scared for himâ not more than he is, anyway. It doesnât make sense for him to be hurt. They donât want him to die. Thatâs a good thing, right? They didnât want to see him hurt, so they looked away. It makes sense.
But it also hurts.
Steve shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose before all but running from the trailer. He doesnât make it far (âStay close so we wonât have to worryâ), just needs some fresh air and to sit down somewhere the world will become a bit less real again.
The stairs it is. He tries to breathe through the lump in his throat, clenching and unclenching his hands to get rid of the anger and the hurt and all that excess energy.
He doesnât want to die, is the thing. The very thought makes him nauseous and panicky. He wants his life back. His car. The freedom to just jump in there and get away. He doesnât want the cage or the worry or the hovering or the loneliness when he isolates himself from all that.
Face buried in his hands, Steve almost misses it when someone comes to sit beside him. The thick smell of leather and cigarettes tells him who it is without looking up.
Eddie doesnât speak for a while, just sits with him as Steve calms down.
And then, after a while, he lights a cigarette and asks, âYou get seizures, Harrington?â
Steve nods. âSometimes.â
Eddie hums. âThat sucks.â
He nods again, and then thatâs that. But even though it was a rhetorical question and Eddie didnât even need an answer, it feels pathetically good to be asked about something. About himself. It only makes the pit inside his chest deeper, cutting into his soul with a sharp edge, this tiny little moment of normalcy. He wants to cling to it. He wants to talk to Eddie. God, he hasnât really talked to anyone in so long.
âBefore Starcourt â remember, the mall? The fire? Yeah that was, uhm. More monster shit. And Russians who thought I was a spy and then⊠yeah. Anyway. Uh. We used to be friends, I think. The kids and I. They used to care â or I like to think that they did. And then I got one too many head injuries, and the seizures started, and then they⊠It became too much. For them, for me. And the caring stopped. And, like, itâs fine or whatever, but I still care, and I canât let them do all that alone. I know that all I was good for was taking them somewhere with my car, but I canât drive anymore, so now Iâm just⊠Iâm just Steve. No titles attached, no use or function or point.â
Eddie just stares at him, puzzled and intrigued and even a little sad, and Steve wants to laugh it off when the silence stretches.
âSorry, thatâs kind of a sob story, youââ
âWait here,â Eddie says, stubbing out his cigarette before disappearing back into the trailer. Steve watches him with a confused frown but stays put. A minute later, the door flies open and a scandalised looking Max appears, followed by the rest of the crew.
âYou what?!â
âUh,â Steve blinks. âI what?â
âEddie told us you think youâre useless and that we donât like you and that all you were ever good for is driving us from A to B with, like, no personal value whatsoever,â Dustin fills in, sounding no less bewildered. âIs that true, Steve?â
And God, the kid is so good at making all his questions sound like dares that Steve instinctively wants to swallow and negate it, tell them that Eddie misheard, that heâs fine, that everything fine.
But then Robinâs whispered little, âSteveâ stops him from doing that. In fact, the sadness and confusion on their faces makes the dams break once more, confronted with months of spiralling and no one to drag him out, no one to listen.
Tears spring to his eyes and he gets up from the stairs to properly face them. He shrugs. Itâs as much of a confirmation as anything.
And then Dustin sprints forward and tackle-hugs him, burying his face in Steveâs chest with no intention to let go anytime soon.
âIâm sorry,â he mumbles into Steveâs shirt and Steve runs a hand through his hair immediately.
âItâs okay, Dustin.â
âNo! Itâs fucking not okay, Steve, stop saying that. Youâre my big brother, youâre my best friend, youâre my hero! Youâre the coolest guy I know and nothingâs gonna change that, okay?â
âThen whyâd you leave?â His voice is so small, but Dustin only hugs him tighter.
âBecause you were hurting and I was⊠I feel like all of that is my fault.â
âWhy would it be your fault, Dustin?â
He shrugs, and it breaks Steveâs heart. Dustin thinks everything is his fault just like Steve thinks itâs his.
âItâs me who got you into the thing with the Russians. I insisted. And you were tortured for it, Steve! You⊠You told us to go, and we did, and then we came back and you wereâ you-â
âHey,â Steve whispers, curling himself around and over Dustin. âHey, no, itâs okay. Itâs not your fault. None of that.â
âOkay.â
âOkay.â
âIâm sorry I pulled away, Steve,â Dustin sniffles and looks up at him. âI swear itâs not because I think youâre useless. Itâs just⊠Iâm so scared.â
And it makes sense, somehow. The anger leaves Steve when he whispers, âMe too. And I donât like it when youâre all scared and worried. I hate it.â
âI know. Sorry.â
âNo, youâre not.â
âShut up.â
And then theyâre both laughing with tears in their eyes. Lucas and Max join them with their own promises that Steve isnât worthless to them.
âDid you read my letter? You know, the one ifâŠâ
âNo,â Steve says. âYou told me not to.â
âRight. Anyway, read it. Whatever happens, I want you to read it. Because youâre my brother and you mean too much for me to, like, never let you know. But, uh. Billy died. And I hated him, but it fucked me up. And then you almost died, and then you almost died again; and then you just⊠collapsed. And I thought, I cant do this again, not with someone I actually like. Not with you. And I didnât wanna watch. I watched Billy. I⊠I canât watch you die, Steve.â
Sheâs crying by the end of it, and Steve pulls her against his chest. Shit, he hadnât meant to make anyone cry like that.
âItâs okay, Max, I get it.â
âNot okay,â she shakes her head again. âI know itâs not. Butââ
âI know.â Heâs stroking through her hair. âI know.â
âUh, guys? I hate to break up the heartfelt confession time,â Eddie chimes in. âBut I think our window is closing.â
Right. The end of the world.
With one last squeeze to Maxâs shoulders, he lets her go and they gather their things. Discussions about Steveâs joining their mission have been put on hold while their window is still open. They can continue this later.
Nancy drives while Max holds Steveâs hand in the back. They donât talk and she has her headphones on, letting Kate Bush work her magic, but itâs fine. It feels a bit like healing.
He catches Eddieâs eyes on the other side and holds them for a while. Eddie smiles before looking away, and Steve does the same.
---
In the end, Steve doesn't climb the rope with them. He stays behind in Eddie's trailer even though every fibre of his being screams at him to join. But Nancy has a point when she explains to him that she and Robin got this. It's the first time he stays behind, and he hopes it will be the last.
They hug him before leaving, all of them. Promises are made to talk about this later, after, and he nods.
"Go save the world for me," he tells Robin, holding her tight, unwilling to let go.
"Only for you," she promises, and kisses his cheek before pulling away. "You better be right here when we come back."
He shrugs and gives her an encouraging smile. "I've got nowhere else to be, Buckley. Now go." The last words are whispered and it feels like goodbye. Steve should join them, he should be there! But his head is pulsing and he knows that one wrong move could leave him half blind with a migraine, and they don't need one more handicap.
The one thing he can do, though, is helping them climb the rope, and it makes him feel ridiculously proud, seeing them land safely on the other side, smiling up (or down?) at him. Robin and Nancy wave one last time before heading off.
That leaves him alone with Eddie and Dustin. The latter is already climbing the rope, itching to finally do something, preparing the trailer for their plan.
Only Eddie is left, and Steve looks over at him.
"Will you be okay, Steve?"
"Sure."
Eddie sighs and looks up at the gate, disbelief and resignation and even a hint of fascination in his eyes.
"It should be you," he says, and Steve frowns, confused. "You're the hero here."
"No," Steve huffs, smiling at the metalhead. "No, I'm no hero. The real heroes are already up there, and in California. The real hero died after Starcourt. I'm just the driver who lost his license, the boy with the bat. The protector who needs to be protected."
Eddie looks at him again, that kind of intense stare, the one that shows Steve that Eddie sees something in him. He wonders what it is, but isn't sure he wants to know.
"I think you're wrong, Steve." He says it with such gentle conviction that it takes Steve's breath away for a second, and something passes between them as they hold each other's eyes.
Eddie opens his mouth to say something, but thenâ
"Eddie!" Dustin is calling for him from the other side, and the boys snap out of their daze.
Steve steps into Eddie's personal space and pulls him to his chest. "Make him pay," he says. "But stay safe. Come back, okay? First sign of danger, you abort mission. Come back, Eddie. I'll be right here."
"Yeah," Eddie rasps, and he squeezes Steve once more. "Catch me when I fall through that gate in two hours?"
Steve laughs, a sad little thing, and he pushes Eddie away from him, hands steady on his shoulders. "Sure, big boy."
"Hey, that's my part."
"Say it when you come back, then."
This thing passes between them again, and then Eddie goes to climb the rope. Steve's hands find their way to his hips, steadying him, but Eddie is strong enough to pull himself up without problem. Huh.
"In the meantime, wrap your head around the fact that you're the one I'm coming back for, pretty boy."
And then Eddie is gone. Steve watches as he falls through the gate, landing on the mattress with more elegance this time, and then he, too, grins down (or up?) at Steve.
He gives a little wave, and then he is alone.
Plenty of room to think when your friends have gone on a suicide mission and you're the one who has to stay behind. The one who will have to do the explaining when things go south. The one who will have to watch and listen, helpless.
It makes him regret the past few months, the self isolation, all the times he pulled back, all the times he didn't push for an explanation or a conversation, all the times he hadn't asked the kids if they're alright because he was too caught up in all the ways that he wasn't.
God, he wants them to be okay. He wants to talk about this, wants them to tell him he's more than the driver without a license, more than the protector who needs protecting. He wants Eddie to come back and explain what he meant, say what he wanted to say. He wants...
He wants his old life back. But more than that, he wants them in his new life just as much. He wants to be brave enough for this new life and find a new purpose. Create one if he can't find it.
But he can't do it alone. He refuses to do it alone even one day more.
"Come back to me," he whispers, looking up at the gate from where he's sitting on the floor, back against the wall. "Come on guys, you've got this. Please work. Please, make the plan work."
And then, miraculously, it does. Eddie falls into his arms with an undignified squeal and the rest of the Party soon follow. They're unscathed, miraculously, and Steve cries as he holds them, all of them, in a group hug that makes the trailer smell like relief and grief and a new life ahead of them. Slowly, with an unnatural sound, the gate above them closes, and then silence reigns.
They cling to him now. Refuse to let go. Good thing he has nowhere to go as Lucas gasps and sobs into his chest, explaining what happened, that Jason almost destroyed the walkman, that Max could have died. And Steve runs shaky hands through his hair, pulling in Max, too, so the three of them can just hold each other for a second.
Dustin and Eddie are hugging beside them, and Nancy and Robin hold hands, a different kind of horror in their eyes, but they smile wetly at Steve as their eyes meet.
It's over. It's done.
They did it. They really did it.
Steve closes his eyes and holds Lucas and Max tighter. They don't complain.
---
Three days later, Steve's house is brimming with life again like it hasn't in months. Turns out, Hopper survived, and he hugged Steve for a whole five minutes, telling him he did good, he did great, he's a hero. Again with that shit that Steve doesn't believe, but he doesn't have the heart to tell Hop, so he just buries deeper into their embrace.
"It's good you're alive," he tells him, and the Chief sobs out a laugh.
"You too, kid. This town would be lost without you."
"Yeah, right," Steve laughs back, and then that is that.
Except, it isn't, because when he returns to the living room with Hop, Joyce and El in tow, everyone's standing, looking at him with timid expressions. Robin and Eddie are holding hands this time, and so are all the kids. They all look like they have something to say, and the only thing missing is a large banner that says INTERVENTION.
"Uh, what's going on?"
Dustin is the first to clear his throat, but only after Erica kicks him. "We wanted to apologise. For leaving you when you needed us the most."
Oh. Steve's shaking his head, placating words already on the tip of his tongue, ready to explain to them how that's not their fault, how that was all him, he could have said something, he could have asked, he could haveâ
"Steve," Nancy says, effectively cutting off any protest he could have voiced. "Just listen, okay? Don't say anything."
He looks at Joyce, who nods, and Hopper who looks about as lost as he feels.
Dustin continues then. "You deserved better, Steve, you really, really did. We all did, I think, but you... You put yourself in harm's way from the get-go."
"Yeah, you came to protect me when you didn't even like me." Jonathan this time. "No thoughts, just protection. I owe my life to you. Every single one in this room does, y'know."
"And what you got for it is severe head trauma and... us abandoning you." Nancy.
"You're not just the driver, Steve. You never were just a driver to us." Hell, even Mike is in on this? "You're annoying, you suck, and you don't even try not to act like you're everyone's big brother."
"You're family, Steve." Oh, baby Byers. That's what gets his eyes stinging and his lip trembling, so he bites down on it so they won't have to see. It's futile with the way they're smiling.
"Yeah. You're so much more than our babysitter," Lucas explains. "You're the best basketball coach."
"You actually listen to my music and read comics with me," Max continues with a smile. "You suck just a little less than everyone else in this town."
"Hey!"
"No, she has a point."
Steve's not keeping up with the who's who anymore, he's trying too hard to keep it together.
"You teach me new words," El says, smiling. "You give me your clothes, you take me shopping, you teach me how to deal with meanies."
And the list goes on. Everyone has something to say to him, something beyond the ways he can be useful. Something that he is to them, something meaningful, something that sounds a lot like purpose and family.
"And we were so scared, because you were hurt. Because of us. You were protecting us, and look where it got you. You're a hero, Steve. As real as they get, you are one."
"More than Wonder Woman," Max agrees. "More than Superman. You're Steve! And that's... Heâs our hero."
"Heâs our brother," Dustin says.
"Heâs my son," Joyce adds, taking his hand.
"Heâs our friend," Erica, Mike and El say in unison.
âHeâs the one we stay for.â Robinâs eyes shine as she smiles.
âAnd the one we come back for.â Eddieâs smile is gentle, confident, and captivating. Steve canât look away, even through his own tears.
---
In the following months, Robin gets her license and Eddie develops a sixth sense for whenever Steve needs to just sit in a car and ride around town, watching the street lamps pass and letting them lull him to sleep. Thereâs an upside to being a passenger, he finds, because he falls asleep like this a few times, always waking when Eddie kills the engine. He drives for hours sometimes, admitting with a blush high on his cheeks that he didnât want to wake Steve.
Somewhere on the highway to Indianapolis, between three and four in the morning, Steve looks at Eddie in the soft glow of the night, and finds that heâs fallen in love.
And in the weeks and months and years that follow, he realises that thatâs something new heâs good at.
#stranger things#steve & the party#steddie#steddie fic#but also not really. steddie is just something that happens along the way#this was meant to be short but uh. uh. whoops?#hi anna i am sorry feel free to ignore this i could have made this easier in everyone but theyâre teenagers with trauma dammit#dio words#actually i just wanted an excuse to make steve sad. if you know me you know
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I didnât know which of Cassieâs hair lengths is preferred by the fandom so I drew her long hair because I never draw long hair.
Speaking of hair, I absolutely adore the way Bartâs hair turned out.
#fanart#digital art#we are going to ignore that Conner is the only one in costume#I need to wake up in 3 hours#tim drake fanart#tim drake#conner kent#conner kent fanart#bart allen#cassie sandsmark#kon el#Tim turned out more sickly than intended#if I messed anything up or you want to criticize feel free to#this is my second attempt at uploading this drawing
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#sleep token#vessel#vessel sleep token#iii sleep token#vessel iii#song: nazareth#very likely this has been posted before so feel free to ignore it or point me towards a different post but i just. wanted it on my blog#am unsure where or when this took place if anyone has any more specific info i'll update it#the source is the tweet where i found it#i. very simply. have not been able to get this out of my head since i saw it and got tired of hunting so. here you guys go#they're just so cute#i have a bonus gif i'll add in a reblog i didn't want it to take up the whole post#the good news is searching for the the source ritual is what lead me to that video of them playing nazareth at ulu back in 2017#so that was a fun find#gif me baby one more time
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THE EX-MORNING
#the ex morning#the ex-morning#kristsingto#gmmtv 2024#krist perawat#singto prachaya#naomivents#uservix#josistag#usersasa#userbon#userdragonz#userrlaura#userpharawee#userrain#userbunn#userzhaozi#< feel free to ignore if it isn't for you#theexmorningedit#I WANT KRIST CHAR SO BAD#gifs#kiss
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(Thank you for the tag! Love doing Picrews! Decided to do human Destino for this! I guess you can either do yourself or do one of your characters!
I'll tag a few people:
@breed-station @askvekpa @asksolgaleo @ask-anxious-sylveon @symphonies-of-silver @askoinari @inaris-pokemon-world )
I want to start a new picrew chain because I found this really cool one yesterday:
Here's mine:
I'm going to tag: @leftenantjopson @a-french-guardsman @icarusinfreefall @mushroomslovesyou @benjhawkins @ambivalent-engines @hiddenmapleleaf @beggars-opera and @fleur-de-paris (and anyone else who'd like to join in!)
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Okay okay. Some are saying that iwtv is not about being in love with the monster, but the horror of the monster being in love with you, which I think it's too simple since it's more about 'the monster loves me, but what if I am a monster too? What if the monster is actually a mirror of everything I don't love about myself and the beauty of learning to love all this monstrous things about me, in you?'
#some people just want to point out the villain without realizing they are all capable of being it#you really want Louis to get therapy and a nice boyfriend? wrong fucking show buddy#also haters are the weakest link of this fandom what do you mean you hate this character cause they're evil? disregard#they're all great and you are wrong#ofc feel free to ignore a girl's 5am thoughts it's not that deep#i get very riled up by stupid takes and have to write cause it's free therapy for me#interview with the vampire#amc iwtv#louis de pointe du lac#lestat de lioncourt#claudia iwtv#armand iwtv#daniel molloy
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plant study, 240527 đż reference photo by jcdilorenzo
#digital art#artists on tumblr#digital illustration#plants#myart#userfairy#analook#madstual#alitracks#usersa#majatual#eritual#oh btw the watermark is for my twitter i just didn't feel like editing it to match this @ too#& please click for better quality tumblr absolutely ruined this#also i decided to tag a couple friends just because i think you guys might enjoy this piece đ feel free to ignore me if you want lmao#channeling my inner hyunjin with this one.......
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psd pack #1 by perotovar
i saw @heroeddiemunson show the difference between their gifs edited vs unedited and it made me wanna do the same! i have a few psds that i cycle through depending on the scene and figured i'd share them with anyone that was interested!
if enough people are interested, i might do a second batch of some fancier/more experimental coloring đ
they're pretty basic for this first batch, but they can be decently customized for a lot of things. i obviously can't make a universal psd but i can certainly try to cover the basics lol
psd links under the cut! please like or reblog if you use!
you can have all of them in a pack -> here <-
or individually:
base
blue scenes (there's 3 versions within the psd)
foggy scenes
dark scenes
yellow scenes
day scenes
ezra
#pscentral#completeresources#psd#photoshop#coloring#psds#resources#pedropascaledit#ppascaledit#pedro pascal#usermaguire#useriselin#userallisyn#xuserannie#userallii#userfanni#userkam#idk if y'all want to be tagged in this kind of thing#but i figure it's at least useful? lol#feel free to ignore this if you want!#oaks#psd*
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Finished veilguard and have many thoughts but none of my friends are done yet. I will probably do a second playthrough at some point just to do emmrichâs romance, but manâŠ. Very torn on the game.
#spoilers for Lucanis romance ignore this is you want to romance him blindly#last chance!! okay spoilers: I understand why ppl were saying they were disappointed in his romance#to say itâs a slow burn is just flat out a lie. they backloaded the hell out of his romance and itâs a tragedy bc he coulda been great-#-despite the cringiness of some of his story and dialogue. ESP when in his banter he mentions rook is his only relationship heâs#-ever had. despite how strong he comes on in his first questâŠ.. like dude come on. explore Lucanis attempting to be flirtatious and failing#it couldâve been so much cuter and awkward#instead I literally got whiplash when he mentioned being in a relationship with rook in banter bc *I* hardly remembered we were#like itâs so weird#I really dislike it#personal#dav spoilers#anyway any moots who finished feel free to dm me
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#there's so many more but feel free to let me know any others you like!#personally I love william so much like what a down to earth guy he's always so cheery and fascinated by plants like arthur#his sweet nature and the way he interacts with arthur- god I could cry#and he always remembers arthurs name đ#âwell I'm ignorant ugly and nastyâ#âwell lets see if we can do something about that :)â#god I love u william you're so lovely#the way they get so casual and friendly the more you complete his requests too :')#he wants to help arthur#gahh#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#mick squeaks#arthur morgan#william rdr2#blind man cassidy rdr2#moonshiners rdr2#hamish sinclair rdr2#marko dragic rdr2#albert mason rdr2#algernon wasp rdr2#francis sinclair rdr2#margaret rdr2#charles chatenay rdr2#mr black rdr2#mr white rdr2#charlotte balfour rdr2#whew#tumblr polls#polls
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â«đ âââ : The girl was hardly living up to her nickname today wasn't she? Lucky? More like cursed. The blonde wasn't even sure how something like this had occurred. Something had rolled under the bed, it should have been a simple rescue mission but instead here she was now, twenty or so minutes later still struggling to rescue her own damn self. And she had tried everything. Wiggling free wasn't going to work. On one knee, on two, Hell ... she had even tried to army crawl her way backwards towards freedom yet still she didn't budge.
It was her best guess that the back of her shirt was caught on some exposed spring along the bottom of the bed, but it didn't really matter in the end. All she knew was that she was stuck and someone had caught her in such an awkward position. Eyes flew open wide at the sound of his voice, and while she normally might have felt embarrassed that her nearly exposed ass was on full display for him, Lucky actually just shook it in pure joy. Finally!
She wiggled once more then huffed and came to a stop before calling out to the man somewhere behind her. âYou'd think so wouldn't you?â The girl rolled her eyes beneath the bed and turned her head around as much as possible, only able to see his feet as he shuffled closer. âYou'd be my hero if you got me out of here.â Her tone was a bit sing song on that last part, but she couldn't have been more serious in that moment. @flthys
àłââ· - open to females. ( typical stuck under the bed trope. ) step / relative, ex, relative / girlfriends / friends girlfriend. neighbor. any connection.
he's silent when he first steps inside the room and finds her halfway under the bed. it's hard not to stare when she's curved over like that, the plump of her ass so inviting and welcoming . her little squeaks and huffs of frustration has him grinning cheekily. pulling the joint from his lips, andrew exhales his smoke and finally makes himself known. "you having fun under there?"
#flthys#â«đ : thread / lucy 'lucky' daniels#feel free to ignore this if you want#but i just love a good stuck trope bc its stupid and fun lol#im thinking probably his best friends girlfriend tho if anything?
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Please reblog for a larger sample size, or donât if you donât want to, whatever
#on the one hand âGothamâs wicked little sisterâ clearly communicates Newark to me if Gotham is NYC#but on the other Iâm having trouble thinking of a city with a more famously corrupt police force than Baltimore#+ âBPDâ is pretty on the nose#Atlantic City is also plausible if you want to keep it NJ#Chicago & Detroit are cities Nightwing has worked out of in continuities where BlĂŒd doesnât exist#and I included Bakersfield purely as a knock against Bakersfield. feel free to ignore.#bludhaven#Nightwing#Batman#poll
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Can't believe it has been a full year since I starting posting AvA/M fanart
so I redrew my first piece of fanart :]
#alan becker#animator vs animation#ava#avm#animation vs minecraft#avm red#I'm just gonna talk some random stuff in the tags#its going to be a bit self indulgent and cheesy from here onwards so feel free to ignore from here onwards#honestly#i didnt think i would get this far#never thought people would like my art at all#I'm glad that AvA/M was the first fandom i started posting fanart for#you guys are always so supportive and nice#and the fandom is filled with all sorts of creative and extremely skilled people#i couldn't really have asked for a better community to start posting art for#man#i cant believe that i managed to make 64 posts in a year#thats basically weekly#thank you guys for all your supportt#every small comment that you guys leave actually makes my day and makes me want to do better for you guys#gotten a bit long so yeah i guess i will close off here#so thanks for liking my art :]
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+
PERFECT 10 LINERS
Dir. New Siwaj
#perfect 10 liners#perfect10 liners#yothagun#chimon wachirawit#perthchimon#perth tanapon#josistag#userdragonz#userrlaura#userblmpff#userspring#userpharawee#uservix#usersasa#userbon#userlovevivi#<- feel free to ignore if it isn't for you#this is Not what i wanted but atleast they look pretty#naomivents#gifs#perfect10linersedit#gmmtv 2024
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