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baeshijima · 3 months ago

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hmmm.... thoughts about composer!reader, whose pieces are always created for and featured in mr reca's films/projects.

people aren't sure when it first started, but in the release of one of his prior films was an ost. of course, it's not unusual to have music in such projects, but that one had felt... different, somehow — in the way its composition struck the chords of many, with billions across the cosmos instantly scouring for who made that piece.

it, of course, didn't take all that long when your name was featured in the credits. however there was barely any information aside from your name and credentials. (seriously, how could there not even be a single photo?!) no one knew what you looked like for quite a long time, only ever recognising your name and your music; even despite the numerous interviews, mr reca had never disclosed anything about you other than your talents. it came to a point where everyone believed they would never see your appearance.

well, until all hell broke loose during the annual intergalactic film awards, that is.

everyone already knew the drill — if mr reca had directed a film that year, it would undoubtedly win the adapted/original screenplay, cinematography, directing, production design, sound, music (original score and song), and film of the year awards, which also led to you winning both the music awards. usually, the composers would be the ones to collect said awards. however, the masses have become used to mr reca being the one to collect them on your behalf with thank you's also on your behalf.

that's how it's been ever since you made your mark in the universe, and so it really is understandable the uproar created by those in and out of attendance when the one who went collect the two awards wasn't the esteemed director, but a completely unfamiliar person; you.

you are definitely younger than they originally thought, having believed it must have been someone of a senior status of sorts to have consistently created such masterpieces. all eyes are trained on you as you step on stage and into the limelight for the first time, the light enhancing your features and formal attire when approaching the mic with a small flashcard in hand. your mouth opens, and the audience leans in with baited breaths as they await your first words.

...only for nothing to come out.

everyone watches a little dumbfounded as you try to talk once more but, aside from gaping like a fish, your efforts remain futile. it doesn't take long for you to clamp your mouth and eyes shut, even raising the awards in front of you in an attempt to shield your face from the crowd.

you... you were just really shy. or maybe a little...socially awkward, perhaps...? if this was the reason you never showed yourself, then they're beginning to understand why...

it passes in a blur — quite literally in that of brown. one moment you are alone on the stage, the next you have the presence of the renown director standing slightly in front of you, as though acting as a shield from the many prying eyes.

"apologies," he begins, his usual smile on display, "but my dearest composer has been suffering with a sore throat these past few days. on their behalf, we thank you all kindly for your support in our work."

and then he swiftly leaves with you tucked under and shielded by his coat, murmuring unreadable words to you as you both disappear backstage and leave everyone in a state of frenzy; to both those inside the ceremonial hall, and to those watching live elsewhere.

(it was only discovered after the awards ceremony concluded what the director had said to you, with the uploader being dubbed as a holy saint for their contributions to society. while the visual aspects of the video itself were not the clearest, barely anyone had it within themselves to complain when the audio was clear as crystal:

"and here i thought you were going to be brave and face your stage fright after all that pep-talk you gave yourself on the way here."

"i'm sorry... i really thought i could do it this time..."

"now, now, i'm merely teasing. you made a big step just making an appearance here today. i know how much courage this took for you, and i'm proud of you for facing it."

"really...?"

"but of course. i'm always proud of you, [name]. there is not a moment where i haven't been.")

(it also was not long until the cosmos was taken by storm when various pictures snapped during the awards ceremony spread. the millions of candids featuring you were one of the most liked and shared, with the top spot joined by the sequence of pictures taken of mr reca's soft expression when watching you onstage, into his realisation of your predicament, into him running onstage and shielding you from the cameras when making your way backstage.)

(...the drastic influx of fan accounts dedicated to both you alone and to you and reca should really be a studied phenomenon.)

#sophie talks : concepts <3 #also reader plays the paino for reca when coming up with original scores and songs while he merely gazes with sickeningly soft and #lovestricken eyes while adding his own thoughts to the composition and sometimes playing alongside you and i think thats very very sweet #but um... this was supposed to be a one or two paragraph brainrot 🧍‍♀️and now its a fic 🧍‍♀️ why does this always happen 🧍‍♀️#man... smth has happened to me since mr reca became real... the brain has been rewired.... ohjg #okay but anyWAY composer!reader x mr reca would be such a cute concept and i have many many thoughts on their bg and dynamic ;w;#mr reca x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #mr reca x you #honkai star rail x you #hsr x you

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ms-spkhd · 6 days ago

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Part one

Admittedly, Eddie feels really fucking stupid about it in retrospect. Jeff tells him, in that soft and placating way he tells him anything, that he should stop worrying about his hindsight bias. Yeah, right. Hindsight bias doesn't apply for Steve Harrington dangling himself in front of Eddie's face like the metaphorical carrot on a stick.

It feels like a kick in the head, if anything. One that rattles his brain against his skull like the ricochet of a bullet. Or a maraca with a single, tiny bead in it, if he wants to be more technical about it.

But that's beside the point. What's important is that Steve Harrington is, like, into Eddie--which definitely throws all of his preconceived notions about boy wonder with serial monogamy problems of the heterosexual variety out of the fucking window and past the goalpost--and Eddie's been farting around for the past few months twiddling his fucking thumbs about it.

Well, it's not definitive.

The more that Eddie ruminates on it--and he spends several nights ruminating on it--Jeff's theory that Steve might be tipping the Kinsey scale sounds like...well. A theory.

It's the doubt that comes rearing its head that stops Eddie in his tracks from actually doing anything.

("Wow," Jeff grumbles as they hotbox in the back of Jeff's hand-me-down olive green Pinto a week after their stunning revelation, "trust Virgin Supreme to self-sabotage when someone is begging for you to climb on his lap and--"

"I told you that in confidence," Eddie spits as he digs through the glove compartment for a cassette to replace the oft-abused Kill 'Em All tape that's been blaring on repeat for the past two hours. "You're really mean when you're high, you know that, right?"

Jeff shrugs and takes a hit of the blunt they've been sharing. "I'm releasing my inhibitions. You can't silence me.")

Eddie trusts Steve. Of course he'd lay down his life for the man that dragged him out of hell without a single look behind like a preppy fucking Orpheus. But there's always the lingering thought that, despite everything they've gone through together, Eddie loving Steve would be the tipping point that ruins everything.

He finds himself balancing the line of keeping it in, too scared of the risk his heart will pose on their friendship, and fully committing to the pipe dream of Steve Harrington possibly wanting him back.

And, in Jeff's wise words, Biblically.

"Hey, Bird," Eddie asks Robin one night at the drive-in theater when Steve's out buying their snacks--medium popcorn loaded with cheddar powder and butter for Eddie, since he just popped a Lactaid ten minutes beforehand, and Milk Duds for Robin--"What would you do, hypothetically, if you think someone is really into you--"

"Here we go," Robin sighs, leaning back in the passenger seat. Eddie can't help but feel miffed at her dismissive attitude, but he knows for a fact that she's all ears.

"--And you, hypothetically, really like them back, but you don't know for sure if they actually, hypothetically, want you, or if it's just wishful thinking on your part?"

"Any you mean this totally hypothetically?" Robin says as she turns to face the rear seats where he's sitting and chewing at his cuticles.

"Yeah. This is a theoretical situation that I want your input in. Think of it like a...thought experiment."

Robin nods with narrowed eyes, like she sees through the bullshit with an all-seeing eye. "Right. Thought experiment. Is this hypothetical person a queer or not?"

"It never crossed your mind," Eddie confirms. "She looks like the posterchild of suburban heterosexuality, but she's gotten very invested in your very gay sex life out of the blue recently."

"So which one of you is the man invested or tell me about what eating out is like invested?"

"Tell me what eating out is like invested."

Robin hums in thought, tapping her index finger against her chin like the situation is really vexing her. "That sounds pretty gay, Eddie."

She is right, that does sound pretty gay. But it doesn't help him in his predicament at all, since Steve seemed to back off about the 'so do you play rock paper scissors to find out who gets it?' questions after Eddie frustratedly admitted that 'DnD club president and metalhead virgin at almost twenty' wasn't exactly a hot item in Indianapolis, much less Hawkins.

"Okay, new layer," Eddie says, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "What if, say, instead of asking you out--which you think is her next move--she starts trying to set you up with a bunch of girls you don't know."

There's muffled chatter from outside the Beemer's windows. Cars rev in the distance as they pull into the lot. Eddie watches Robin in contemplative silence as she thinks through her answer.

"That is difficult," she concedes, and Eddie is feeling more desperate than ever. "Can't imagine that ever happening to me."

Eddie mumbles, "Thank God it's a hypothetical."

"But if you think about it, it's either some misguided attempt to put me out there, or it's a Hail Mary to get me to realize I like her."

"Okay, well. Both options seem pretty hard to differentiate when you don't know what the fucking context behind the action is."

"For what it's worth," Robin says, her expression softening ever-so-slightly, "I think it's the Hail Mary. It's not my place to tell, but you should really give up the idea that it's wishful thinking and give it a shot."

Eddie's a millisecond away from asking, is it that obvious? before there's a sharp knock against his window. He yelps, head whipping around to find Steve with that sly grin slapped on his stupid, handsome face.

Eddie rolls down the window and tries to school his expression. He doesn't need to, really, because Steve shoves the popcorn into his hands and declares, "A medium sized popcorn with cheddar powder and lots of fucking butter for you, my friend. Bone of a teeth."

"Just fucking say it regularly," Robin groans as he yanks open the drivers seat door and tosses her a box of Milk Duds. "I know you can, you jackass!"

Steve laughs, full and hearty, as he turns to look at Eddie in the rear seats. He's like bottled-up sunshine contained into the shape of an American heartthrob. He's like Venus as a boy.

Eddie feels like he's staring down the barrel of a gun.

Another week of ruminating goes by, this time with Robin's words echoing in his head like a reverb pedal, and Eddie keeps that yellow pick near his heart the entire time. It's a real push and pull type situation, he realizes. His heart goes one way, his brain goes the other, which is fucking typical.

He doesn't talk to Jeff about it, because he knows he'll get the same answer, and he doesn't dare talk to Robin about it again. He feels she knows too much, and he has know idea how much she's accidentally telepathically transferred to Steve.

Eddie is about halfway through debating shaving his hair off as a way of regaining control when he finds Steve standing on his doorstep like a fucking Mormon.

"Eddie, man," Steve says with zero preamble, "my cousin's boyfriend has a roommate that I think you'd like."

"Nice weather we're having," Eddie responds blankly. Frankly, with the way things are going, he's getting sick of it.

But he can't help the way that Steve still looks beautiful as his eyebrows bunch together and pretty pink lips pinch into a thin line.

"Come on, man. I think this'll be a good start for you. I think he's into the same bands as you. I think Kathy said he was a Skid Row roadie, or something like that."

"I'm not that big of a Hair Metal guy," Eddie admits, and Steve deflates a bit.

"Well, if it helps, he kind of looks like me.' Jesus Christ. "Devastatingly handsome and all."

Eddie's damn near about to snap like a worn-out Stretch Armstrong being mauled by two pitbulls. He feels like he's about to blow a fucking gasket in front of the guy he's been holding very ill-advised affection towards since his sophomore year of high school. The very same guy who's been trying to set Eddie up with literally everyone with a functioning penis with exception of himself, the only guy Eddie has wanted. Ever.

There's no way Steve is that dense, right?

Eddie knows that the guy's smart, despite everyone telling him otherwise. Steve can definitely do mental math better than Eddie can dream of doing--since Frankie Gershwin passed down the sacred Hellfire DM calculator once Eddie took over Hellfire after he graduated--and he actually graduated on time, unlike yours truly.

But Eddie doesn't fucking get it.

"Steve," Eddie blurts, rather unceremoniously, "what are you doing?"

Steve blinks. His smile wanes dangerously low. "...I'm setting you up with a handsome dude."

"I don't understand why you're doing this though. Are you fucking with me, or something?"

"No, dude, I just..." Steve's expression shifts. His shoulders sag and he rakes a hand through his hair. He looks devastatingly earnest. "I just want to see you happy."

"If you want me to be happy," Eddie snaps, "then just ask me out yourself, since I've fucking been in love with you since April."

Steve freezes, hazelnut eyes like full moons on dinnerplates.

Eddie's hand flexes on the doorknob as he resists the white-hot urge to slam the door shut on Steve's shocked face. Maybe he should take a vacation down south to Mexico. Perhaps change his name and never come back. Hopefully there'll be sweet and earnest boys with olive skin and luscious hair waiting for him on the beaches of Cancun. Holy shit this is a fucking disaster.

"Oh," Steve says.

"Yeah, oh."

"You love me?" Steve asks, eyes sparkling like the rural sky. He draws closer to Eddie, raising a hand that begs to touch him.

"When have I not?" Eddie admits as leans into Steve's touch against his shoulder and laces their fingers together.

I guess I was, uh. I wasn't expecting it." Steve smiles softly and gazes at their intertwined hands.

"Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Love me too?"

"Oh God." It's like Eddie's staring straight into the sun, with the ways Steve's smile grows more intense with each second. He wants to have it burned into his retinas. "Of course I do. It feels so stupid how much I'm obsessed with you."

"You know, you have a weird way of putting it, what with all the setting me up with guys I don't know," Eddie chirps. Steve chuffs and shakes his head like a guilty dog.

"I guess I wasn't expecting you to want me back. I wasn't sure you'd go for guys like me."

For jocks hangs heavy and silent in the air between them, as if Steve hasn't quite jumped over that hurtle of guilt over the person he was in high school. Sure, he was king of the letter crowd, but he's nothing like the douchebag from '83. Steve would never shove him into a locker or be a general chest-beating moron around Eddie, because he's not a moron. He's sweet and dorky and a little misguided, sometimes, but he has the heart of the size of a mack truck and a kindness to show it.

The thought of Steve talking Eddie's ear off about Sportsketball and the works sends an excited little shiver down his spine.

"I would," Eddie says, completely and utterly honestly. "God, I would for you."

He brings Steve's hand to his lips and smacks a wet kiss over the soft skin. "And the necklace..."

"That was my Hail Mary," Steve admits with a bashful shrug of his shoulders.

"I haven't taken it off since you've given it to me."

Steve releases his grip from Eddie's spindly hand and brushes his fingertips against Eddie's collarbone, tugging at the chain of the necklace until it untucks itself from underneath Eddie's shirt. Eddie watches the way that Steve lights up like a fucking electrical surge at the hint of sunshine yellow against his pale skin. It makes Eddie flush a bright red.

And when Steve's palm flattens against Eddie's chest and pushes him inside Eddie's new government loaned trailer, he lets himself be pushed against the wall and kissed.

And kissed, and kissed, and kissed.

Sufficed to say, when Eddie wakes up the next morning with Steve drooling against the back of his neck and his warm hand splayed against the skin of his naked chest, Eddie vows to always take Jeff's word for it.

____________

holy shit i was not expecting for part one to get that much fanfare. to be honest, i was totally intending for it to be a one and done to explore eddie and jeff's friendship, and believe me, my heart is so warmed by the reception it got. i recently have gotten myself out of a months long slump and have been swamped with college work, so i apologize for my writing being so few and far between. thank you all and i hope this is the resolution you were waiting so patiently for! :)

@grtwdsmwhr @eyehartart @bananahoneycomb @notasmoothman @colidamae

#woah unexpected sequel alert #i wrote this in a blind fervor my gawd its 2:00 am and i have 9:30 tomorrow/today #once again the jeffeddie bestfriendism hitting like crack #also robin! my sweet girl smile for the camera #mlm and wlw solidarity in the house!!!! robin loves her demon twink even if she doesnt admit it #surprisingly a lot of navel gazing for a joke fic #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #stranger things #steddie fic #ficlet

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