#anything to get out of studying
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I have a half written Ace fic (nsfw) and IDK HOW TO END IT AAA, can I send it I wanna know if it's half decent
HELL YEAHHH, SEND IT!! and listen to me, the best way to end a fic (if you don't know how to) is to hint at further smexy-times with a one-liner or something.
that's legit how i end every fic ever cause endings are super superrr hard!!
#vix answers <3#do send it thoooo#i wanna read#ill procrastinate my uni work for this#anything to get out of studying
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One of my first digital pieces (2010) versus one of my recent ones (2024)
We all start somewhere!
#picked these cause they're in a similar pose lol. i mean not at all. but sort of... more than my other art at least...#oh fuck im so tired im saving this to drafts and coming back later#my anxiety meds wipe me the fuck out so im trying not to take them in the day#and they're like legit borderline a sleeping med for me. i take one and in 30 mins im OUT.#so I'm. i mean i was already only taking 1-2 in the day and then 2-3 at night#anyways it makes me sad when people say they dont have an artistic bone in their body#and especially when they say they could never draw like me :(#dont put yourself down to lift me up! i don't want my art to be used for you to be mean to yourself!!!#lots of experiences of people comparing themselves to me and being mean to themself...#feels bad. it's okay if you're slow it's okay to be learning it's okay!!!#I'm me and you're you and we're here to learn from each other. i just wanna hang out..#y'know what I'm just gonna post without saying anything i WILL forget I made a draft#i have so many things i intend to post and then forget#it's a wonder I post anything#i only do it when i get bored. and run out of stuff to scroll through#like whelp. guess if i want a post I have to make one myself.#also the second one is really good idc that it's a study i still drew it#art growth#this was in 2010 btw#i started highschool in 2011#I've grown a lot and you can too.#also I've never really been one to dislike my old art. like idk I was trying... if it's bad I just won't look at it whatever#like i wouldn't be mean to someone else who made that so i don't get a free pass to be mean just cause it's to me#man my thoughts are bungled. okay sleep time#if my phone made typos you didn't see it
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In my Zeus bag today so I'm just gonna put it out there that exactly none of the great Ancient Greek warrior-heroes stayed loyal and faithful and completely monogamous and yet none of them have their greatness questioned nor do we question why they had the cultural prominence that they did and still do.
Jason, the brilliant leader of the Argo, got cold feet when it came to Medea - already put off by some of her magic and then exiled from his birthland because of her political ploys, he took Creusa to bed and fully intended on marrying her despite not properly dissolving things with Medea.
Theseus was a fierce warrior and an incredibly talented king but he had a horrible temper and was almost fatally weak to women. This is the man who got imprisoned in the Underworld for trying to get a friend laid, the man who started the whole Attic War because he couldn't keep his legs closed.
And we cannot at all forget Heracles for whom a not inconsiderable amount of his joy in life was loving people then losing the people around him that he loved. Wives, children, serving boys, mentors, Heracles had a list of lovers - male and female - long enough to rival some gods and even after completing his labours and coming down to the end of his life, he did not have one wife but three.
And y'know what, just because he's a cultural darling, I'll put Achilles up here too because that man was a Theseus type where he was fantastic at the thing he was born to do (that is, fight whereas Theseus' was to rule) but that was not enough to eclipse his horrid temper and his weakness to young pretty things. This is the man that killed two of Apollo's sons because they wouldn't let him hit - Tenes because he refused to let Achilles have his sister and Troilus who refused Achilles so vehemently that he ran into Apollo's temple to avoid him and still couldn't escape.
All four of these men are still celebrated as great heroes and men. All four of these men are given the dignity of nuance, of having their flaws treated as just that, flaws which enrich their character and can be used to discuss the wider cultural point of what truly makes a hero heroic. All four of these men still have their legacies respected.
Why can that same mindset not be applied to Zeus? Zeus, who was a warrior-king raised in seclusion apart from his family. Zeus who must have learned to embrace the violence of thunder for every time he cried as a babe, the Corybantes would bang their shields to hide the sound. Zeus learned to be great because being good would not see the universe's affairs in its order.
The wonderful thing about sympathy is that we never run out of it. There's no rule stopping us from being sympathetic to multiple plights at once, there's no law that necessitate things always exist on the good-evil binary. Yes, Zeus sentenced Prometheus to sufferation in Tartarus for what (to us) seems like a cruel reason. Prometheus only wanted to help humans! But when you think about Prometheus' actions from a king's perspective, the narrative is completely different: Prometheus stole divine knowledge and gifted it to humans after Zeus explicitly told him not to. And this was after Prometheus cheated all the gods out of a huge portion of wealth by having humans keep the best part of a sacrifice's meat while the gods must delight themselves with bones, fat and skin. Yes, Zeus gave Persephone away to Hades without consulting Demeter but what king consults a woman who is not his wife about the arrangement of his daughter's marriage to another king? Yes, Zeus breaks the marriage vows he set with Hera despite his love of her but what is the Master of Fate if not its staunchest slave?
The nuance is there. Even in his most bizarre actions, the nuance and logic and reason is there. The Ancient Greeks weren't a daft people, they worshipped Zeus as their primary god for a reason and they did not associate him with half the vices modern audiences take issue with. Zeus was a father, a visitor, a protector, a fair judge of character, a guide for the lost, the arbiter of revenge for those that had been wronged, a pillar of strength for those who needed it and a shield to protect those who made their home among the biting snakes. His children were reflections of him, extensions of his will who acted both as his mercy and as his retribution, his brothers and sisters deferred to him because he was wise as well as powerful. Zeus didn't become king by accident and it is a damn shame he does not get more respect.
#ginger rambles#ginger chats about greek myths#greek mythology#It's Zeus Apologist day actually#For the record Jason is my personal favourite of these guys#The argonauts are extremely underrated for literally no reason#And Jason's wit and sheer ability to adapt along with his piousness are traits that are so far away from what usually gets highlighted#with the typical Greek warrior-hero that I've just never stopped being captivated by him#Conversely I still do not understand what people see in Achilles#I respect him and his legacy I respect the importance of his tale and his cultural importance I promise I do#However I personally can't stand the guy LMAO#How do you get warned twice TWICE both by your mother and by Athena herself that going after Apollo's children is a bad idea#And still have the audacity to be mad and surprised when Apollo is gunning for Specifically You during the war you're bringing to His City#That You Specifically and Exclusively had a choice in avoiding#ACHILLES COULD'VE JUST SAID NO#I know that's not the point however so many other members of the Greek camp were simply casualties of Fate in every conceivable way man#Achilles looked at every terrible choice he could possibly make said “Well I'm gonna die anyway 🤷🏽” and proceeded to make the choice#so hard that he angered god#That's y'all's man right there#I left out Perseus because truthfully I don't actually know much about him#I haven't studied him even a fraction as much as I've studied some of the other big culture heroes and none of this is cited so i don't wan#to talk about stuff I don't know 100%#Anyway justice for Zeus fr#Gimme something give me literally anything other than the nonsense we usually get for him#This goes for Hera too btw#Both the king and queen of the skies are done TERRIBLY by wider greek myth audiences and it's genuinely disheartening to see#If y'all could make excuses for Achilles to forgive his flaws y'all can do it for them#They have a lot more to sympathise with I'll tell you that#(that is a completely biased statement; you are completely free and encouraged to enjoy whichever figures spark joy)#zeus
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NOW I'M MUMBLING AND I'M SCREAMING
AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M SINGING
#i don't know a lot about rock so. weird al parody of nirvana it was#(they're playing the backing track on the speakers as well)#(it would sound kind of stupid if it was just the vocals and the bass)#art#obey me#obey me raphael#obey me thirteen#obey me mephistopheles#jtta ik#they should study that phenomenon where something you draw in one big rush after impulsively getting inspiration#is significantly better than anything you've drawn with any sort of planning#ANYWAY. i think it turned out good#the unknowables
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they are SILLY!!! and CUTE!!! and UNDERRATED!!! that is all!!! 💛💚
#NOTTT enough lemonlime content in this world i had to do my part....i've been thinking about them muchly. for aauuhhm. reasons.#i really could go on about their dynamic friendship whatever forever though...easily one of my favorites. the sillies!!!#anyways you ever like. NEED to get something out of your system or you Cannot draw anything else. that was me with these good Lord#inside out 2#inside out#inside out joy#inside out disgust#joygust#joy x disgust#lemonlime#inside out fandom#sketchbook#OKAY i still have an exam tomorrow i need to study for GOODBYEEEE....i just needed to be insane for a minute. for my mental health
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I imagine my thumbs on the irises Pressing in until they burst I would kill him, if you let me I would kill him, quick and easy
#7. Thumbs - Lucy Dacus
study of carvaggio's salome with the head of john the baptist
#this song is tooooo scary for me#but i couldnt get this image out of my head#i say study of carvaggio but u can clearly see the exaxt point where i gave up halfway#seto kaiba#mokuba kaiba#noah kaiba#gozaburo kaiba#seahorse family reunion#yugioh#ygo#yugioh fanart#my art#inktober#inktober 2024#cw blood#cw gore#cw violence#i guess? let me know if u want me to tag anything else ;w;
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reposting some old doodles i still enjoy a bit
#a doodley#guys im having realizations i dont really know what to do with#ive said this tons before but my main issue with art rn is like#i Know anatomy. and what it's Meant to look like. my issue is straying away from Correct and going with Good like how some of my stuff was#before i really started learning. loose and not restricted#but my obstacle is that nobody draws the way i want to draw. and im bad at coming up with my own stuff...i need to copy and osmose off#someone else. well. it turns out there is someone who draws the way i draw. and its cheye of the past.#dont get me wrong if i look thru the rest of the art in the (year) folder these came from; 80% of it sucks#i wish i cld have what past cheye had but with current cheye tweaks and refinement#but idk how to do that. something weird has happened to my mind i really cant envision and make art the same way anymore#idk how he did it back then....i wish i Knew bc current me cant make anything out of sketching or thumbnails or just going at it#arghhh#i try and force myself to draw stuff like this now (interactions) and it looks. so stiff. and bad proportion wise but idk how to fix it#which isnt to say the proportions (for example) in THESE drawings are perfect but they dont scream Wrong or Bad or Incorrect to me ykwim...#idk! idk what to do with this. ive never known how to go back and study my own stuff
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Being a perfectionist is actually the worst thing to have happened to me because why am I chronically all or nothing about everything in my life
#Not even saying this in an omg I’m so quirky way like no this is a PROBLEM#Caught myself thinking that maybe while I’m embarking on an intense study camp I should just like#Neglect doing anything that feeds my soul or just ensures I’ll be mentally well enough by the time I take the national test I wanna take#But it’s not just that like I’m all or nothing w EVERYTHING#All or nothing w friends all or nothing w hobbies etc etc#Someone tell that girl things are a spectrum#I don’t mean to gatekeep this but anyone who’s liek “heehee im such a perfectionist!!” while kicking their feet and giggling doesn’t get it#Sure your work pays off when you’re like that but it’s also unsustainable#I’ve burned out so fast before / fallen off the wagon bc I’m not normal about things I undertake#I actually want to know how it feels like to be normal about things
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experimenting
closeups below:
#bleeeh#i'd like to experiment with digital art more because i feel like it's been boring lately#i haven't been able to finish much of anything#and personally traditional art is more fun for me but i don't have a good quality camera LMAO#i think i'd like to do some art studies sometime. i have some inspirations and if i ever get the time i really need to sit down#and ask myself “what do i REALLY want out of my art style?”#but yeah. have this. one step at a time!!!!#in stars and time#isat siffrin#in stars and time siffrin#sir dahlia's art#eyestrain#<- adding this just in case
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Upon returning to the lighthouse, after watching Emmrich take a particularly heavy blow, one that was nearly fatal, Rook nearly tears his robes off of his shoulders to see the freshly mended skin. She was the one who healed it, but she needed to physically see that he was alright. Emmrich started crying when he saw the sheer relief in her eyes, but didn't realize until a few hours later that he hadn't felt so truly cherished in quite some time.
He wanders out of his room during the evening on one of their free days to find Rook dozing off on the couch in the library/meeting area. The book she was reading has long since fallen to the floor, and while he likely has the strength to carry her, he does not want to risk waking her. Instead, he takes a quilt from his room and lays it over her. When she wakes, she looks at the quilt fondly and notices a small embroidered signature along the edge. The quilt was made by his mother. The following day, he finds the quilt neatly folded atop his desk along with a handwritten note written in her elegant script. As he pulls the quilt to his chest with a smile, he realizes that she'd sprayed the slightest bit of lavender scented perfume over the quilt.
One day, Rook decides to teach Manfred sign language. She will steal him for around an hour every few days, and slowly but surely he begins to learn. One day, Emmrich takes note that his ward has been gone far longer than usual and decides to set out in search for his companion. His search leads him to the dining room, where he sees Rook sitting with Manfred and having a full conversation with him, while she translates the whole conversation to Neve. His heart feels full as he realizes that there is nothing in the world that he would change if it meant ending up here in the long run, in finding his family amongst the mismatched puzzle pieces that make up the Veilguard. These people who have come to mean so much to him.
#dragon age veilguard#dragon age#emmrich volkarin#dragon age emmrich#emmrich x rook#this is mostly a character study on emmrich#i cant get him out of my head#literally i would do anything for him#and i mean anything#the found family full of the weirdest guys you will ever meet#your honor i love them
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sketchbook sillies
#took these in the dark . can u tell . i know u can (they look like shiart im sory)#i can draw javi with my eyes closed + studying him is easy and fun so i tend to draw him a lot. plus he comforts me. i’m sorry kieran i miss#u so bad and i want to draw u lots but i don’t have the strength to look at ur in-game model as much as javier’s …….. :(#i promise i’ll study him soon so i can get the hang of him again#still slowly trying to get back in the swing of things since getting out of the hospital … life is so odd for me right now :/ anyway …#i promise i’m going to get to the things in my inbox as fast as possible im just … a slow person ….. and im so tired ….. please be patient#with me ….. thank u very much to everyone who said anything to me tho i look at them and smile every day even tho i dont have the energy to#do anything with them outright yet :]#anyway … my pookies … trying to make drawing fun again and practicing so slow …. i’m scared of burnout bad#i miss them so bad#javieran save me … save me ………….#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#kieran duffy#javier escuella#javieran#image#art#hero draws sometimes#putting the art in shart with these i’m ngl but im just trying to have fun again :(
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merrill dragon age really reverse engineered an eluvian from first principles in a cave with a box of scraps and one single blighted shard. and STILL she gets no respect for it from anyone but potentially hawke, at least in a confused yet well-meaning 'are ya winning son' sort of way on the friendship path. dark days for women in STEM
(really though it seems the equivalent of a person in the middle ages putting together a nokia phone from rocks and sticks (and one coaching session from a spirit, fair enough) and then just not being able to figure out how to turn it on even though it is fully functioning. magically at least merrill is inarguably a genius. the tony stark of kirkwall. well not really that comparison falls apart pretty quickly but you see what I'm saying here lmao)
#dragon age#dragon age 2#merrill#of all people aveline actually seems to pick up on just how brilliant she is#but she only ever tells merrill so out loud so that she gets to tell her she's also an idiot with the next breath fhsadkfhsa#ah would it really be DA2 if that wasn't how that conversation went tho#anders has his head way too far up his own ass (affectionate) about anything she does to really consider what she's achieved#but one day I'd love to see some mages studying merrill's work like 'how?? how in the fUCK did she do this it shold be impossible'#hawke standing over on the side like a proud yet bumbling older brother like 'uh. it involved some sort of really special knife.#I punched a varterral about it. do not ask me any more questions'
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doodles of my dauhter !!! and her weirdass teacher
#only just finished vol 1 so no spoilers before i fold and get the rest of the series#now for the hard part figuring out how to tag#art#wha#witch hat atelier#coco#coco witch hat atelier#coco wha#qifrey#i knew i would like qifrey before getting into it but man. man i get it.#coco i would do anything for u including drawing u instead of studying for my upcoming final#rhrhrrhrgghrhRRHRGGHHH I NEED VOL 2
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current (gayass) music mood: big ideas on loop
#remi wolf#music#album cover#art study#illustration#i get SO stuck on albums sometimes and this one got me w the vise grip#so i figured id follow thru on my promise to do musician fanart again#if i were to do fanart regularly itd probably be for rtvs or like. idk books#i just started the discworld series.. might be fun#i badly need to branch out and get wacky again#easy to forget that 'im an artist i can draw anything' means actually anything
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mithrun thought of his lover as someone who's "untrustworthy". he looked down at her too, if this is anything to go by
she's a naga for ALL panels she's in with mithrun--you'd think if he wanted her to feel real, she'd atleast have been a doppelganger or something but she's been a chimera for most of the times we've seen her. mithrun's been dungeon lord for 5 years of his life, and his supposed lover has been a chimera for . probably all of it.
also consider: kabru is spinning the narrative about mithrun's time as a dungeon lord into something Laios can comprehend. i think that's critical. kabru says “his life in the dungeon couldn't have been happier” and i think he's being literal. there's little happiness in living in a lie, and personally—mithrun's expression here is pretty telling
is this anything
#like i genuinely don't think he loved her as much as fanon is making it out to be#i really think. and stay with me. that he only wanted her to be His so that his brother doesnt get to have her#misiril said his dungeon reeked of his complexes so thats where im going with this#<- not verbatim#dungeon meshi#mithrun#at most mithrun never loved his ex at least he's never loved someone without his complex getting in the mix#at the VERY least mithrun was (mentally) unstable. in canary scale he'd already be at dungeon level 4 from the start with his naga lover#feel free to add anything to this or counter it even! i may have missed something but this is just how i interpreted it all#would this count as a character study . idek
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🤍🌷 @stevesbipanic and @the-winged-doe asked to see ugly unpolished unrefined words, soo—
cw & tags: past major character death, grief, attempted time-travel fix-it(s), eddie&robin besties || potential wip
Eddie takes a long drag of his cigarette, the biting hot smoke hitting the back of his throat and clawing its way into his lungs, going as deep as he allows and leaving a permanent mark that brings neither relief nor calmness tonight. His fingers shake where they’re pressed to his lips, but the rest of him is unmoving where he sits on the front porch of their new trailer.
It’s quiet out here. It’s always quiet in Hawkins these days, the city a fucking ghosttown.
And he knows it’s not because of the one they lost. He knows it’s not because of him. But still the emptiness is stark and the silence oppressivem more so than it ever has been.
Everyone still looks for him, months later. Dustin still begins to speak, cutting himself off mid-sentence, and Robin still stands with enough space to either side, like she expects him to just show up and invade her space like the home he made for himself in there.
And somewhere among all that is Eddie. With his very own history. Or, non-history, as it turns out. But history and non-history leave wounds alike, and the memories feel just as real. A small mercy, at the end of the day, for them to feel real when they’re all he has left anymore.
He takes another drag, not quite exhaling before he obliterates the cigarette and fishes for a new one before the butt even hits the ground.
Fumbling with the lighter in his pocket, he only gets as far as placing the butt between his lips before a hand snakes into his field of vision to snag it from his mouth.
“Hey,” he complains halfheartedly but makes no attempt at getting it back, watching instead as Robin comes up to sit beside him, grimacing at the stink of tobacco that must be heavy around him.
“You’re disgusting,” she says with no real heat behind her words.
Eddie shrugs, because yeah, sure. He’s been called worse things. Robin’s called him worse things. This is her being nice. Her complaininig about his incessant smoking is nothing new. What is new is what she does next, placing the cigarette between her own lips and reaching for the light he’s been holding in a loose grip since she arrived.
She starts coughing immediately, pulling a face at the disgusting feeling of smoke in her lungs and tobacco on her tongue. But she keeps going. Eddie can only watch in surprise and mild horror.
“These things’ll kill you,” he says then in an echo of her usual sentiment, aware that he sounds as bewildered as he feels.
“Well,” Robin says, aiming for casual, but quickly interrupted by a wheeze and a cough that’s almost adorable. “Let them try.”
Eddie huffs, a pale little smile lingering on his lips as he leans back against the stairs behind him, resting his weight on his forearm to watch her. There is something captivating about her. Eddie always wonders what it is, wants to study her forever.
Maybe it’s only the lingering traces of Everything Steve Harrington that clings to her every breath, her every move, her every fucking cell, with how much he was a part of her and she of him. Maybe it’s their shared grief that has made Eddie fall a bit in love with her and with the way the moonlight catches in her hair and in the smoke wafting from her cigarette.
But somehow he refuses to believe that all he loves about her is merely the memory of Steve.
Robin, in turn, is kind enough to let him stare. Kind enough to let him find out what it is between them. If this friendship is more than a misguided projection of grief and mourning and trauma; more than co-dependence and the obsessive will to keep this one person in your life. This one person who understands.
After a while of Robin just holding the cigarette between her fingers, becuase no matter how strong her will to self destruct, she never quite got it right with the smoking, Eddie snatches it back before it goes to waste completely. As if pulled in by a string attached to his hollowed out chest, Robin leans back and into him in one smooth motion. It’s too calculated, though, and Eddie can feel how much she sags once she doesn’t have to hold herself up anymore.
He’ll hold her. It’s fine. She gets to rest if she wants to. God knows she needs it.
The night is warm for mid-September, but still Robin shakes against him. Eddie holds her closer.
Silence settles over them, and it’s not an easy one. Silence is never easy anymore, especially with them. He feels so deeply hollow that even the silence echoes in there, creating an ever-present, uncomfortable thrumming of apprehension and anxiety within him. A certain sense of doom, one that can’t quite decide if it’s only an echo itself.
“I wanna stop time,” Robin says at last, the cigarette long dead between Eddie’s fingers, but he somehow can’t bring himself to flick it away. “I don’t want tomorrow.”
I don’t ever want a new day. I don’t ever want another tomorrow. I just want Steve.
They ring in his head still, another echo that only hollows him out further every time it reaches him — Robin, overcome with hysterical grief, screaming and crying, curled up on that hospital floor, her cries quieting down and making Eddie wish she would be loud again, because the quiet was what killed him. The quiet, the whispered words, the declarations that tomorrow could go fuck itself if it came without Steve made him wish, irrationally, desperately, that their roles were reversed. That he could have died and Steve could have lived, and Robin would never have to wish tomorrow never came.
He’s not entirely sure if she remembers the words, too. If she even said them in this world.
So he takes a deep breath, breathes away memories and non-histories, feels the heavy weight of his guitar pick hanging around his neck, resting on the scarred flesh of his chest, and tries not to think of the one string left on his acoustic guitar. Tries not to think of his one last attempt. One last try.
“I know,” he tells her. “Me neither.”
He peers over her head, lifting his left wrist to check his watch. Ten minutes until midnight. Ten minutes until Steve’s birthday.
“It’s not tomorrow yet,” he tries lamely, and Robin huffs — the sound wet and bitter and hopeless, making Eddie’s eyes sting.
“It’s always fucking tomorrow,” she rasps, her voice flat and wavering, and Eddie knows her well enough to know she’s about to cry. And she knows him well enough to do it.
“I know,” he says again, and reaches for his necklace through his shirt. One more attempt. One more try. One more chance. His eyes burn.
She turns to him after taking a moment to compose herself, peering up at him through her lashes.
“Tell me again?”
His heart falls, the tense apprehension vanishing from the air, bur quickly replaced by something a lot more heavy. Something that looks and smells and feels like grief.
They both know he’ll do anything she asks. He can’t really bear saying not to her. And not about this, anyway — she’s the only one who knows.
She’s the one who should have had the chance.
“Which part?” he asks, holding a new cigarette out for her to light it. She does, and the both follow the flame of the lighter Robin always keeps in her pocket these days.
She leans forward and takes a drag. Eddie lets her.
“All of them.“
Eddie sighs, pain welling up inside him, and he closes his eyes against the night sky. “Robbie,” he pleads, but he doesn’t finish his plea. He’ll do it. He’ll do anything she asks.
But before he starts recounting the tales of how he almost saved Steve Harrington, he finds himself saying something he never thought he’d tell her.
“There’s one more.” The words hang in the air, and Robin doesn’t react. Has no idea what’s coming; what he’s about to tell her. The guitar pick is heavy on the necklace around his throat. “There’s one more try. One more chance. I’m… I have one more—“
He can’t even finish the sentence. Can’t bring himself to say it, lest it all be jinxed forever. He doesn’t want to hope. Wants to carry this weight for all eternity and never think about all those times he failed to save someone he was never meant to save at all. People like Eddie, they’re not made to save anyone. Hell, they can’t even save themselves.
Steve was supposed to be the one doing the saving.
And he did. God, he fucking did. But he was never supposed to—
Cold fingers wrap around his own as Robin fits their hands together.
“I hate you a little bit for telling me.”
Eddie nods, trying to focus on the cold hand and the nicotine in his lungs, trying not to let panic and grief and guilt and the heavy weight of one more chance win. “I know.”
“Hey, Eddie?” Robin says after a while, the silence stretching on, and it’s almost midnight now. “Can you— Would you do something for me?”
He turns his head, flicking the butt of his cigarette out into the darkness beyond them. “What’s that?”
“Don’t— Don’t try to, to save him. Don’t— Just… Just maybe, could you celebrate his birthday with him? Make sure he knows he’s… God, make sure he knows he’s loved? Last year, no one really made time on his birthday and we just moved it backwards but God, could you— It’s almost midnight, and—“
“Robbie,” Eddie interrupts her, his voice hoarse and wavering, his eyes burning with tears as he tugs her close and holds her to his chest. “You should go. Don’t you wanna…”
But she’s shaking her head against him with a vehemence that can hardly be misunderstood.
“No,” she cries, and it’s more of a sob than anything. “I think if I ever saw him again, I’d… I don’t know what I’d do. Burn the whole fucking world to the ground for him or some shit, I can’t— I’d probably just cry all the time and that wouldn’t be helpful, really.” There’s a weak, wet laugh that bubbles out of both of them, and Eddie’s wiping at Robin’s face, drying the tears and making way for new ones to fall.
“I’d light a fire for you,” Eddie says, the same weak smile on his lips that Robin meets him with now. “Nineteen fucking fires, you hear me?”
She laughs again, then buries her face in his neck in a way that never quite fit. In a way that Eddie always knew was supposed to be someone else’s neck.
But he’s not here anymore. And Eddie can’t get him back. No matter how much he aches for it, no matter how much he learned over and over and over again how easy it is to love Steve Harrington and how hard, how fucking impossible it is to lose him. Over and over and over again.
And to live without him. This one fucking time they all get. It’s not fair.
And now Robin is asking him to go back one more time and make sure that Steve knows— That he knows.
Somehow the thought of that feels nobler than any attempt to save him, to bring him back; to rewrite history from a lonely boy’s perspective and hope that no one else is reading along.
It feels right, too. Fundamentally and suddenly, and with such an intensity that Eddie knows the decision has been made the second he started telling her.
Still he hesitates. Robin’s sobs have calmed down, and Eddie’s hand finds its way into her hair.
“Do you really mean it?”
She nods.
He nods, too, but slower. Like he’s trying to sway himself. Which way, he doesn’t know.
“Make him happy.”
“Okay,” he decides after a while, feeling hollow and desperate, but feeling purpose burning underneath his skin again. “One last time.”
He unwinds his arms from around her and heads inside to grab his acoustic guitar. The last remaining string, badly untuned because he never dared to touch it, stares back at him in both mockery and invitation. A dare. A chance. A promise.
Outside, Robin is waiting for him, looking anxious. Eddie wants to hug her. He doesn’t, only tightens his grip around the guitar’s neck.
“Listen, Eddie, if this is goodbye or something—“
“It’s a birthday party, Robsie,” he interrupts her, aiming for light, aiming for brave. “I’m coming back right here.”
“I know,” she rushes to say, taking a step toward him and wringing her hands. It’s endearing. It’s genuine. Eddie really is a little in love with her. “But, y’know, you don’t mess with time, and I don’t know what all you already changed before and I don’t wanna know but… If this is goodbye, if something happens, I just wanna tell you that I’m gonna miss you. And that I think you’re really cool. And that Steve’s— he’s really missing out, okay. Okay?”
Eddie breathes, taking in her words and letting them soak into his body, his every last fibre.
“Okay,” he smiles. “Thank you. You’re… I’m kind of in love with you, Robin Buckley. So there had better be no change in the universe, ‘cause that would really suck.”
They smile at each other, Eddie with his guitar and Robin with her lighter, and somehow this feels like a deja-vu. The antithesis to a moment forever burned into his memory.
Make him pay.
Make him happy.
Eddie tugs on his necklace and plays the string before he can think about it too hard; before he can decide otherwise.
Distantly, he hears the church bells announcing midnight as the world around him fades.
🤍 permanent tag list gang: @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @cryptic-cryptid @hotluncheddie @gutterflower77 @auroraplume @steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important @stevesjockstrap @puppy-steve @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 @madigoround @pukner @i-amthepizzaman @swimmingbirdrunningrock @hammity-hammer @stevesbipanic @bitchysunflower @estrellami-1 @goodolefashionedloverboi @awkwardgravity1 @devondespresso @bookworm0690 (lmk if you want on or off, for this story or permanently)
#steddie#steddie fic#eddie & robin#eddie munson#robin buckley#robin and eddie are grieving besties now#me writing another story about death and the inability to grieve?? it’s more likely than you think#this one probably doesn’t make sense yet because they’re both refusing to think about what’s real or think about anything at all#so past present and future need time to develop above the damaged psyche of two entirely too young adults#so bear with me and give us time#anyway i’m posting this despite its unpolished ugliness bc this is as good as it gets#if i were anything like my self this would be a 7k study but as it turns out writing about grief is exhausting#(hi taglist gang i hope it was okay to tag you for entirely too raw a draft for anyone to lay eyes on lmao 🤍)
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