#Finally the last day...
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HermitxPlanttober Redraw Day 31: Foxgloves x End
#Finally the last day...#hermitblr#hermitcraft#zombie cleo#zombiecleo fanart#hermitcraft season 8#hermitcraft s8#hc s8#inktober23#inktober#ron.art#zombiecleo
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Stellar death
#dddaily4sherin#day 313 i totally did not mess up the day count yesterday#life series#grian#scott smajor#pearlescentmoon#inthelittlewood#goodtimeswithscar#zombiecleo#3rd life smp#last life smp#double life smp#limited life smp#real life smp#mcyt#trafficblr#traffic smp#my art#i had an epiphany after a certain astro class and have been losing it ever since#screw the solar system make them all (dying/dead) stars!!!!!! (and related events)#and I finally got to do it tdy LMASODAOS HOPE U GUYS LIKE THIS IM VERY HAPPY WITH IT >:D#also ppl who knows astronomy/astrophysics feel free to psychoanalyze the hell out of this. i had sm fun assigning them HEHEHE
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if we could stay connected, just like this
#ok last orbit niigo post im emubrained again and also i miss leoneed#project sekai#pjsk#prsk#mizuki5 spoilers#proseka#mizuki akiyama#mizu5#nightcord at 25:00#hurray !#meltdown released an amazing translation of the event so i read it and had my final cathartic transgender cry about it#and now i have ~4 assignments due on friday so i have to stop drawing mizuki. sad.#i recommend everyone watch meltdown's translation#please. its very good and better than the mtls floating around#i Get why people wanted to see it translated asap like i Get it i didnt understand half of the wordplay or kanji but like . wah#its so crazy how this event breached containment n how many people are rooting for mizuki even tho they dont play the game so i just#think its a shame that the translation everyones reading isnt really accurate/lacks the nuances.. Ok sorrynits a good event.#ive just been thinking abiut that for a few days and i love talking in tags. Adios#real Orbit heads will know this is an Heartorbit reference (that tarot card sketch i did almost 2 years ago and said i would finish)#(i havent finished shit)
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Rio addressing Agatha
#agatha all along#agatha harkness#rio vidal#agathario#marvel#marveledit#wlw#wlwedit#tvgifs#my gifs#*aaagif#when agatha finally calls rio by her name/pet name will be my last day i fear
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and thus, the yearly undertale fixation comes back into being!! have some doodles :D
#my art#art#artwork#fanart#artists on tumblr#undertale#utdr#frisk#frisk undertale#chara#chara undertale#two art posts in the last 24 hours?? i’m on fire!! /j#undertale fanart#chara and frisk#sketches#anddd time to pull an old tag out of retirement solely for this post#frisk doodle of the day#i actually have two more undertale doodles i will post later but i wanted to get these designs finalized first!!#can YOU spot all the hidden details/references?! GOOD LUCK#i guess i’ll also add#temmie#as a tag. since. yeah
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🤍 Monster AU(?) Horror movie/actor AU(?) drawn for the Le Blanc zine in 2023 🤍
I thought it would be super fun to go for an old school, kitschy horror movie poster vibe with a werecat!Chat Blanc -also I may or may not have just come out of a huge monster romance reading binge at the time huhuhu
#I can't believe it's been over a year since the last time I made ML fanart 😭#this was also the very last piece I drew right before I had a major art style shift to how I draw now#I really do miss these comfort characters so much 🥺 One of these days I'll finally sit down catch up with the show... 😔#miraculous ladybug#miraculous ladybug fanart#miraculous fanart#chat noir#chat blanc#marinette dupain cheng#marichat#celdraws#celerydays#mlb#mlb art#le blanc zine
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blue
#my art#there is no portfolio day on tumblr but pleas e look at my art anyway#i like it when colours match :)#the last unicorn#final fantasy xiv#the stolen heir
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I think I need a “Kid Tim Drake gets kidnapped and held for ransom but his parents don’t even pick up the phone so now these criminals are like whelp, this kid is ours now. Sucks to suck.” Fic.
#Kidnapper: child neglect is no laughin’ matter. You shouldn’t be left alone for that long. You’re like 7#Tim: I’m 8…..#Kidnapper: point proven.#Tim: *stomach growls*#Kidnapper 2: when was that last time you ate kid?#Tim: *mumbles* 3 days ago…#Kidnapper 2: what do kids eat?#Kidnapper 1: I dunno? Like cheeseburgers?#Kidnapper 2: isn’t that a little unhealthy?#*they all end up getting bat burger*#Now Tim is a small super criminal but not actually bad#And raised by two kinda confused criminals who finally picked up a parenting book after accidentally adopting this tiny genius.#tim drake#red robin#batfam#ao3#fanfiction#writing#idk
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this is the greatest april fools to ever april fools
#april fools#april fools day#especially with smallishbeans title it's so funny#episode 1 and finale#oh finally an smp where solidaritygaming lasts till the finale episode#life series smp#life series april fools#real life smp#minecraft vr#traffic smp#trafficblr#grian#rendog#pearlescentmoon#zombiecleo#skizzleman#geminitay#impulsesv#smallishbeans#minecraft smp#martyn inthelittlewood#inthelittlewood#the title of his is so funny u KNOW it's gona be good#even if it's an april fools joke#life series#gtwscar#goodtimeswithscar
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"what's the biggest difference in Tom's character in the dad villain au" you've never seen a papa-bear go so grizzy mode so fast
#my art#miraculous ladybug#marinette dupain cheng#tom dupain cheng#lê chiến kim#dad villain au#also the final straw for marinette was that the day kim pulled that shitass prank on her#that gave her like. love trauma in the show#was around the same time sabine passed out for the last time and never woke up again#so marinette realized that she was publicly humiliated#by chloe via kim as a proxy for the 'prank'#was going to lose her best friend who was moving#and was going to lose her mom#basically all in the same day
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i was gonna tack this on at this end of the last post but thought it deserves it’s own post 💀 because AINT NO WAY ADRIEN DOESNT QUESTION THIS MAN ASNJDILHASJKLE
Bonus:
#im just wondering is chat gonna open up his voice messages on the chat phone and get a barrage of CHAT GABRIEL AGRESTE IS HAWKMOTH#THIS IS NOT A DRILL GET UP#I AM IN HIS BASEMENT RN#DID I MENTION GABRIEL AGRESTE IS HAWKMOTH WYA#and chat's just listening like :0#the only reason adrien doesnt connect the fact that his father is hawkmoth is because#he doesnt believe that his fashion designer dad would wear something so hideous#pass it on#ml#ml spoilers#ml finale#miraculous ladybug#miraculous adventures of ladybug and chat noir#miraculous ladybug spoilers#miraculous ladybug season 5#ml s5 spoilers#ml s5 finale#ml the last day#marinette dupain cheng#adrien agreste
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Eimmet High...temmiE high. OMG!
Part 28 || First || Previous || Next...(Hiatus)
--Full Series--
Next update may take...much longer! I have finals and an internship and not to mention I have to draw- A LOT :')
#Golly!#this is a shorter update but I wanted it to be that way. We've been in the house for a while. It's time to change some scenery!!#Chara using their game narrator voice like “golly!” and “amazing!”#Eimmet high :)) i was really hoping to be able to reference Temmie Chang here. An integral part of UT/DR!! She's awesome!#WE ARE OFFICIALLY ON Day 2 BABY#yes- there is still a little everyman easter egg as well as some other things... ;)#I tried so many new and different things for these panels. I was a little nervous implementing them. But im having a lot of fun with it!#i try to put my own artistic enjoyment above all other things :) its what I strive for.#Angle's landing day! excited for the festivities!#Chara is feeling stabby :)#loved detailing Chara's hand in the last page. When I detail the hands- just know shits getting real#I'm really happy with how I was able to redraw Toriel here. She showed up in the second part and that was it for 2 years -w-#so even if she's not a major character- I wanted to give her some good screen time <3#I did not make the Darkworld “Mayor” just for that one joke....but dang did it fit perfectly.#these 4 pages took longer than I wanted. I got burnt out with school and then finals came!!! AND ALSO EMAILS q-q#deltarune chara timeline#deltarune chara timeline comic#chara#asriel#kris#susie#toriel#tw cursing#cw cursing
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My less popular opinion (and what I believe to be implied by the art in Lost Days) is that rather than waking up in a fully grown body Jason didn’t actually complete his puberty until after his Lazarus pit dip while he was on his murder tour. Imagine you’re tied up in a basement in Berlin getting interrogated by a teenager and his voice is cracking the entire time and if you laugh he’s going to shoot you
#Late puberty Jason truthers rise#Egon calling up Talia like ‘did you send me a middle schooler what is this’. ‘He’s technically high school aged actually’#he would’ve been like 18 when he finally regained consciousness but the way he’s drawn could easily be mistaken for 15#I know people love the body dysmorphia angst of Jason waking up big but I offer you this: Jason wakes up looking basically the same to a#world that has moved on without him and is unrecognizable. His death/injuries stunted him he existed for years in a state of suspension#while the world passed him by. He was on pause while everyone kept moving on and he didn’t get unpaused until the Lazarus pit and he has#to scramble to catch up. He’s actually 18 but the last thing he remembers is being 15 and his body reflects this state#and then once his mind is finally back online puberty hits him like a truck. Just look at the difference between how Jason is drawn#immediately after his dip in the Lazarus pit vs the end of lost days when his training arc is over#It implies it could’ve been multiple years but in order to fit with the timeline of other comics I personally don’t think it#would’ve been that long. I think he just sprouted up like a weed#Jason Todd#dc#I think Jason is technically still growing by the time he’s red hood. In my personal mindscape he doesn’t reach his peak buffness/height#he’s like 21 and he’s 19 in utrh#Sorry for my 1538283th post about red hood lost days I’m obsessed with his little fucked up coming of age story#Red hood lost days
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pookie~ 🌸✨
#finale week........#//pretends stsg are having afterparty on their last day yup#jujutsu kaisen#satosugu#gojo satoru#geto suguru#stsg#jjk
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Here comes the Sun himself ☀️
glassless versión
#here comes the sun boogie woogie#hetalia#hws spain#aph spain#antonio fernandez carriedo#gangstalia#I stayed until 2 am drawing him bc. I’ve been struggling w art for the last two days and I was going crazy#I’m like I NEED A DUB’#and I’m happy w this one I think I finally did Antonio justice 😭#i hate his fucking tie#I think this guy hates ties and purposefully chose that one#IT DOESNT MATCH THE OUTFIT GGRRR#or I guess it’s like an accent to his gold belt. idfk#I just know Romano was spinning in his fucking bed after meeting this man bc the idea of that. leaf print tie haunted him#that and the gay thoughts#fix him Romano …. fix him#I keep saving the draft then coming back bc ACTUALLY ROMANO CANT SAY SHIT w the Italy flag tie#both of them straight to prison
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ao3
It’s the last day of school before Christmas, and the first thing Eddie hears when he enters Family Video is Steve Harrington saying, “Fuck this,” which seems kinda unreasonable; he’s not even done anything yet.
But then Steve continues, his voice turning distant as he heads to the back of the store—“I don’t care what the goddamn handbook says, the radiator’s goin’ on full blast,”—and Eddie realises he hasn’t actually been noticed at all.
Not by Steve, at least.
Robin Buckley is standing by the computer. She’s checking her watch; Eddie can see the thought cross her mind, that he should’ve been out of class over an hour ago, like she was.
All of a sudden, he feels uncomfortably aware of what he must look like: drenched from the rain, dripping water onto the carpet.
“Hey, Munson. O’Donnell got you working overtime, huh?”
Eddie fakes a laugh. He doesn’t know Robin that much—but still just well enough to know she doesn’t mean anything by it.
So he nods and rolls his eyes, concocts a story about an unjust detention; he even embellishes it with a pinch of truth as he brings the video tapes out from the shelter of his jacket. Says that his last-ditch attempt at improving his grade before the holidays was offering to return the videos O’Donnell rented for her classes.
He doesn’t mention the fact that he stayed behind voluntarily. That he spent all that time staring down at a perpetually unfinished essay, gripping his pen with an all too familiar desperation. That kind of honesty somehow feels more embarrassing than lying; it always has.
Robin takes the videos from him. “Okay, tell me if that works,” she says, with a hint of sarcasm; she’s joking, Eddie reminds himself, but not in a mean way. “Because I’d be returning, like, so many library books if…”
She trails off with a frown, eyes on the computer screen. Glances to the stack of video tapes before punching in something.
Eddie doesn’t mind the wait; it’s only now that he’s really appreciating just how cold he is. He shakes some water off his jacket sleeve, fingers numb, and realises too late that he’s creating a puddle on the floor.
“Uh, sorry for, um. Dripping,” he says awkwardly, but Robin doesn’t seem to hear him; she just keeps frantically tapping on the keyboard.
Outside, the wind picks up even more, throwing rain against the windows.
There’s the creak of a door swinging open somewhere in the back, followed by a voice calling, “What’s up?”
Eddie startles—he almost forgot that it wasn’t just him and Robin in here. He watches Steve sidle up to the register.
“It’s this stupid—“ Robin gestures to the computer with frustration. “It keeps going all, you know, aaaah.” She draws out the sound, wiggling her fingers.
Surprisingly, Steve catches Eddie’s eye with a wry look. “Technical term,” he says, deadpan.
If Eddie didn’t know that he was the only other person in the room, he’d think that surely he’d been mistaken for someone else.
Not that he thinks Steve would ignore him outright; it’s just that they’ve not got much history—no fleeting camaraderie forged from sitting next to one another in class. Sure, they crossed paths as much as anyone did in Hawkins, Steve a recurring figure in Eddie’s peripheral; he knew of his existence, obviously, it’s Steve Harrington, but nothing more than…
A collage of all the times Steve’s picture has appeared in the school newspaper flickers through Eddie’s mind. Okay, but that was because of The Tigers, and the swimming team, and—anyone would’ve noticed that—
His justification is brought to a halt at a particularly fierce howl of wind; Robin flinches so badly that she knocks the video tapes onto the floor.
“Just the wind,” Steve says quietly.
As he speaks, he gently nudges Robin out of the way with his hip. Picks up the fallen tapes.
And to anyone else, it might seem kind—and nothing more.
But there’s something almost imperceptible in the way Steve does it, Eddie can’t get away from that fact: a meaning behind the words that he can’t grasp.
Then he hears Wayne’s voice in his head—son, you know fine well when something’s none of your damn business—and tells his curiosity to quit it.
“Sorry, it’s still not working,” Robin says, giving the computer one last thump. “I can, um, write you a receipt? To prove you returned them? So O’Donnell doesn’t get all…”
Eddie nods. “Sure.”
Robin gets a pen out of her shirt pocket and writes a receipt, triple-checking the movie titles as she does so.
Eddie thanks her as she hands over the paper. Catches himself hesitating.
There it is: the familiar prickle of discomfort, not knowing what else to say. Jesus Christ, isn’t that a failure on its own? Another year at school, and you’d think he’d be somewhat closer to other students, just from the sheer amount of time they’ve spent together in the same four walls. And yet, he’s starting to feel more distant than ever.
Granted, there’s Hellfire, but on bad days even that chafes, not that he’d ever admit it. Like he’s playing a part far bigger than who he actually is.
Eddie expects to just walk out without another word being said. In fact, he’s bracing himself for the cold again, almost at the door, when Steve inexplicably speaks up.
“Are you actually leaving?”
Eddie turns around. Steve’s leaning by the desk with his arms folded, looking at him expectantly.
Eddie’s half-convinced there’s a joke he’s not getting.
“Uh, yeah?” he says. He tries to ensure that ‘what the fuck else am I supposed to do?’ goes unheard, but from the way Steve’s eyebrows rise, he doesn’t think he succeeds.
Steve gives a pointed, dubious look outside. “Dude, you wanna drown out there?”
Eddie rocks back on his heels. There’d be a time where he would really snap back at that (the first time he flunked out, maybe), but now he’s more caught off-guard.
So he just glances outside and says, “Ideally, no.”
Steve gives a slight huff of laughter at that, shaking his head.
“Look, I’m just saying, man, I’m not gonna be driving till it clears up. Thought I was gonna need a canoe just to get into the parking lot.” He turns to Robin as if looking for agreement, stacking the tapes Eddie returned as he adds, “I said that when I drove you in, right?”
“I dunno, I’ve had crazier journeys,” Robin says.
Steve rolls his eyes like she’s made a corny joke—but he’s grinning like he just can’t help himself.
Eddie watches with a flicker of amusement rather than irritation, which catches him unawares. If he was honest, he’d felt drained not even a few seconds ago. But seeing Steve and Robin’s back-and-forth sparks an unexpected urge to respond in kind.
“Since when were you the spokesperson for road safety, Harrington?”
Robin snorts.
Steve shrugs. “At least wait until it’s not so brutal out there.”
And what brings Eddie up short is that, despite the dry tone, Steve sounds sincere. It leaves him struggling for an acceptable reply.
Before he can work one out, Steve steps to the side and pushes a swivel chair with his foot, right into Eddie’s path.
Eddie sits down in silent bewilderment.
He braces instinctively for an unbearable awkwardness, but it’s not so bad: Steve and Robin just continue working. It gives him time to try and dry his jacket off, at least, and when that ends up a lost cause, he turns to noticing the background noise in the store.
There’s a TV overhead playing It’s a Wonderful Life; George Bailey and Mary Hatch are about to Charleston right into the swimming pool.
Steve wanders into his eye line, scanning the aisles with a clipboard. Eddie doesn’t actually know how long he’s been there. He’d kinda got caught up in watching the movie. Steve seems to notice that; it’s gone too quick for Eddie to be sure, but his lips might’ve quirked, as if in approval.
“Hey, d’you want me to take your jacket? I’ve got mine and Robin’s on the radiator in the back.”
Eddie does his best not to stare. It’s a habit he’s still not shaken off: waiting for the other shoe to drop when anyone apart from Wayne is so… so…
“Didn’t realise this place was a hotel, Harrington.”
Despite his misgivings, he shrugs off the still damp jacket; Steve’s already stuck his hand out for it.
“Not everyone gets this treatment, Munson. You just haven’t annoyed me yet.”
“Then what am I doing wrong?” Eddie returns flatly.
This time Steve’s smile is obvious.
“Don’t move my scarf off the radiator!” Robin calls as she wheels a trolley of tapes.
“What do you take me for?” Steve says.
He disappears into the back again, returning empty-handed when the phone rings. He mutters at it before he picks it up, “Yeah, of course you still work,” and it’s not endearing, Eddie tells himself. It’s not.
And no, he isn’t listening in to the phone call. That’d be… that’d be stupid. It’s just that the movie isn’t all that loud, so he can’t help but…
“Hello, Family Video? Oh, hi, Mrs Wilcox, how are… Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.” Steve listens to whatever’s being said on the other end. His eyes find the TV, and then he’s silently mouthing along to George and Mary singing, ‘Buffalo Gals.’ “Oh, are you kidding? No, no, stay inside. It’s not a problem, I can just—yeah, of course. I’ll push it back to after the holidays. Yeah. Yeah, you too. Thanks for calling. Enjoy the movie!”
He hangs up, absentmindedly humming. Eddie quickly looks away.
He notices then that he’s sitting right on the edge of his seat like an idiot. He makes an attempt to sit back—be normal, just be fucking normal—but there’s a rigidity he can’t quite shift, that’s been stuck there probably since middle school, when the cafeteria was full of whispers, did you see the new kid? There, the one with the buzz cut.
“Steve, you off the phone?”
“Yeah. Hey, Rob, if I forget, could you make a note to extend Donna Wilcox’s rental? I’ll do it when we’re back, if the computer’s—”
“Sure, sure. Um, so—”
“Oh, God, what?”
Robin grins, a mixture of sheepish and teasing. Eddie stays put. Has she forgotten he’s here? Should he move? Leave? Yeah, he should leave, they’re not gonna notice… He’ll grab his jacket, slip away; the weather’s not that bad—
“I’ve got something for you to—”
Steve waves his hands in disagreement. “Nope, we said we weren’t doing presents!”
“It’s not really a—my grandma wouldn’t listen, Steve, it’s, like, more of a punishment, honestly, just—just wait there.”
There’s a clatter as Robin rushes off, scattering some more tapes off the trolley. The employee door slams shut behind her.
Steve tsks to himself, but picks up the tapes again. As he bends down, he glances over his shoulder with a brief ‘what can you do?’ sort of expression—which forces Eddie to consider the fact that he hasn’t been forgotten.
He doesn’t know how to feel about it.
He settles for an attempt at nonchalance: sticks a foot out to spin the chair ever so slightly, just side to side, and says, “So, uh, is this job just throwing tapes on the floor?”
“Yeah, we take turns,” Steve says without missing a beat.
He scoops up a tape, twirls it deftly before slotting it into place on the shelf. Eddie should probably find it annoying.
He doesn’t.
In the silence, he tries to lose himself in the movie again, at least a little bit, but he can’t manage it—feels too aware of himself, the creak of the seat as he moves even the tiniest amount, the restless fidgeting that he doesn’t even want to be doing, but knowing that never helps him stop—
“Ta-da!”
Eddie turns in time to see a blur of red; Robin’s just thrown something at Steve, who catches it easily—of course he does, Eddie thinks, but he can’t pretend that the thought comes from a place of resentment, not even inside his own head.
It’s a sweater. Steve unfolds it with a cackling laugh; there’s not a trace of the artificial veneer of high school in the sound.
Unlike you, whispers a nasty inner voice.
Steve’s still laughing. “Robin, this is the best—”
“Shut up, no, it’s so bad.” Robin hoists herself up to sit on the desk. “Grandma did the actual work, all the bits that are messed up are from me—”
“You knitted this?”
Steve beams. Eddie notices that there’s an endearingly crooked tilt to one of his incisors.
And then Steve’s glancing around like he’s checking no-one else has come into the store. He ducks out of view of the windows, but is still very much in Eddie’s view as he throws off his work vest, yanks his shirt up over his head, and…
Eddie suddenly feels like he’s been flung back into the claustrophobic space of the school locker rooms, the dread of changing for phys ed. The voice in his head gets louder: don’t look, don’t look; they’ll know.
But Steve doesn’t seem to care. He just leaves his shirt in a heap on the floor, wincing overexaggeratedly at the cold, and practically dives into the sweater with a boyish glee.
He laughs again; the sleeves are far too long. “I love it.”
“You do?” Robin says, and while she’s playing up her dubiousness, Eddie can hear how she’s pleased underneath it all.
“Uh, yeah!”
The back of Steve’s hair is ruffled from how eagerly he put the sweater on—but instead of fixing it, he focuses on artfully rolling up his sleeves.
Eddie should look away. Should, at the very least, attempt to appear like he’s zoned out, in a world of his own.
And yet…
Despite everything, he watches Steve Harrington with all the silent, rapt attention he usually reserves for movies.
Moth to a fucking flame, Eddie thinks, resigned.
“Suits me, huh?” Steve says to Robin; he does a stupid little move, one hand on his hip, like he’s on the front cover of a magazine.
“And you’re modest, too.”
“You just don’t know style when you see it.”
Steve’s at the desk now, nudging one of Robin’s feet playfully, before turning round to lean against the corner again. “Hey, Munson, what do you think?”
Eddie finds himself fighting the instinct to reply with something undeservedly cutting. He’d just be trying to cover, anyway, using barbs to conceal what the question makes him feel: something akin to the franticness when confronted in class with a test he hasn’t studied for.
And he looks. Really looks—his heart slowing, the initial panic from the flash of bare skin fading away.
Steve’s right; the sweater does suit him, in all its homemade charm. The shade of red is flattering, brings out his eyes: maroon, if Eddie had to put a name to it, although he suspects that the colour’s actually got nothing to do with it, more the way Steve holds himself—a quiet, certain confidence that’s always been out of Eddie’s reach.
He inwardly gives himself a shake as Steve and Robin keep waiting on his response.
This isn’t school, idiot; they’re not trying to catch you out.
“I’m hardly an expert on high fashion, Harrington,” Eddie says—thinks he just manages to pull off the lazy, unbothered drawl.
“Well, you have a look,” Steve says faux delicately, like he’s being incredibly generous.
Eddie cracks a genuine smile; it sort of weakens the whole aloof thing he’d settled on, but he surprisingly doesn’t care all that much.
“Damned with faint praise.”
Steve scoffs as if to say touché. His gaze catches on something outside, and Eddie wonders if it’s an actual customer, if it’s time for whatever all of this is to stop.
But all Steve does is poke Robin’s foot and add, pointedly singsong, “Rain’s stopped.”
“So?” Robin asks.
“I think it’s in between storms,” Steve says sagely. “Like, we’ve got a little window before more rain hits.”
“Great, Steve, I’ll love waving that opportunity bye.”
Steve tuts. “Rob, I’m saying we should ditch. Come on, it’s been dead all day. We can be home early and warm, it’s, like, single-handedly the best plan I’ve ever had.”
Better than when you won the championship game? Eddie thinks—wisely keeps that strictly to himself, because he’ll admit following Hawkins High’s basketball results on pain of death.
Robin looks torn. “I don’t know, Steve, what if—”
“Who’s gonna tell?” Steve says, gesturing around at the empty store. He nods at Eddie, says sarcastically, “Oh yeah, Eddie Munson, known snitch.”
“You flatter me,” Eddie says. He surprises himself at how easily it slips out, like for once, there was no need to overthink it.
“See? Rob-in,” Steve wheedles, “come on, I’ll cash out. You and your grandma could knit for hours.”
“Shut up,” Robin says fondly. “Fine! Quick, quick, I’ll flip the sign.”
The whole thing resembles a military operation, with how speedily Steve and Robin manage to close the store. Eddie stands up and moves the swivel chair out of the way, but feels almost exposed without it.
Steve’s just finished at the register when he catches Eddie’s eye. He snaps his fingers, “Oh, shit, yeah,” and yells over his shoulder to Robin in the back room, “Hey, pick up Munson’s jacket, too!” Then he’s stuffing a couple of tapes into a backpack. “Want one?”
Eddie blinks, confused. “What?”
Steve wiggles one of the movies in demonstration before zipping up his bag. “I always take some home. As long as you have it back by, uh,” he waves a hand vaguely, “some time in the New Year, whatever.” He clicks his tongue. “Damn it, forgot to turn this off…”
It’s a Wonderful Life falls silent.
Through the whir of it rewinding, Eddie speaks almost without meaning to. “Can I have that one?”
Steve looks up at him in faint surprise. “Sure. Hang on, I’ll just find…”
He ejects the tape and passes it to Eddie. It’s still warm from being played.
And then the case is being handed over, too—there’s scraps of paper folded in the corners, rolls of receipt in Steve and Robin’s handwriting: games of tic-tac-toe and movie recommendations.
As Eddie puts the tape inside, a thought occurs to him. “Wait, uh. Were you gonna take this one home, too?”
Steve’s folding up his discarded shirt and vest. He smiles, and if Eddie didn’t know any better, he’d think there was something shy in it.
“Oh, nope. I—” He laughs under his breath. “I have it already.”
The back door bursts open to reveal Robin all wrapped up in a scarf. She throws Eddie his jacket, jangles some keys and imitates Steve’s half-singing when she announces, “I’ll lock up.”
The wind’s thankfully died down so the contrast from inside to the parking lot isn’t terrible—though that’s probably helped by the fact that Eddie’s jacket is warmed right through from the radiator.
As he gets to the van, he expects that Robin and Steve will already be out of the parking lot. But when he slides into the driver’s seat, he sees Robin’s the only one actually inside Steve’s car; Steve’s half-in, half out, one hand on the roof.
“Safe journey, Munson!”
And maybe it’s just how Steve’s voice is anyway, but it sounds like it’s more than just a platitude. Like it means something.
Eddie honks his horn in reply. He lets Steve drive out first—his car’s parked closer to the road—and absentmindedly drums his fingers on the VHS case in the passenger seat.
This was a fluke, he tells himself. Like a movie being played in last period, the curtains drawn—how it always feels kind of like a dream.
Still, he drives home warm. Thinks in a gentler voice, one that sounds like Wayne—a reminder that not everything is a trap waiting to spring shut on him.
#featuring the anxiety of growing up gay in a small town#quiet magic in the last day of school#realising ‘oh i think i finally get who you are.’#eddie munson fic#pre steddie#steddie fic#steve and robin#eddie and robin#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie#steddie
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