#h; farrah

[unavernales]

farrah: previously gifted kid who lost focus/interest in academic pursuits and choosing extracurriculars/a personal life to seek validation. kept up her grades but didn't perform as stellar as she should have

serghei: previously gifted kid who burnt out. barely passed near the end but had a career waiting for him so there was no need to excel.

noel: average kid who felt the need to evade the shadow of her siblings. wanted to do better than both of them but things didn't come as easy. studied to death. higher ed for the sake of being elite

[unbite]

farrah fay --> fits

[cocoakiwis]

My random asf comfort characters if they got the chance to interact

[fort-cozy-mcblanket]

Shamy texts that definitely happened at some point

[eddysocs]

Exhaustion Crisis (Hawkeye Pierce x OC)

Summary: Hawkeye is exhausted from endless surgeries and Josie begins to wonder if it’s all getting to be too much for him.

Word Count: 1,005

Warnings: Angst, extreme exhaustion

Thirty six hours. Thirty six hours of standing, of complete and unbroken concentration, and of meatball surgery after meatball surgery. Hawkeye was practically dead on his feet as he trudged toward the sweet relief of his tent. The Swamp beckoned him in with its familiar creaking door that finished in a hard slam that reverberated in his tired head.

He only stopped his slow, dragging, forward momentum due to spotting Josie currently occupying his cot. She glanced up at him from her reclined position, a book in her hand that she appeared to have been rather deeply engrossed in, as she was already nearing the end of it. Hawkeye could have sworn it was only yesterday that she’d begun it. Yet again, what was yesterday and what was today was quite a blurry line for him at the moment.

He smiled weakly at her as she beckoned him over to his own bed. It was a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and it saddened her to see him like that. She shifted to the left side of his cot, allowing him ample enough room to join her. She knew he needed the rest, and he didn’t put up any protest about her staying.

Hawkeye shuffled forward, nearly stumbling and throwing himself into the makeshift bed that on its best days only verged on any sort of real comfort. Yet comfort was not his highest priority now. He’d sleep in the dirt if it meant even five minutes of blissful shuteye.

Finally collapsing into bed, and nearly knocking Josie off balance, Hawkeye flopped down beside her like dead weight. "Sleep," he groaned. Concerned for him, Josie leaned down to check him over, and he huffed out a breath that those thirty six hours of weight had carried for him until this very moment. Even a blind man could see he was worn down to his very bones. He’d hardly managed a smile in her direction when he’d come in and the lack of a joke, or a pass made at her clearly outlined his utter exhaustion.

His every movement looked like it cost him energy he no longer possessed. He lifted his arm and cast it over her waist, effectively pinning her down. Not that she was planning on going anywhere, but if she was needed, she’d be hard pressed to move him. He gripped onto her like a toddler reunited with his mother and cuddled into her side like she was his only lifeline between the land of the living and that of the dead.

He felt like death, he really did. He’d been tired before working long hours in the OR, but this wasn’t like any old day of being a surgeon in war torn Korea. This was an unnatural tiredness that drained his life force, his personality —everything— from his body. He almost feared that it would be days until he was ready to wake up again, if at all.

As Hawkeye finally relaxed, finding what comfort he could against Josie while using her chest as a pillow, she closed her book and sat it on the table. He hadn’t hardly bothered to say a word to her, even after settling in beside her and that in itself spoke volumes. She worried about him on days like this. At least, she worried more than usual. Things had never quite been this bad for him.

Josie smiled sadly, looking down at him. His eyes were closed and he was probably already sound asleep. She didn’t dare to ask, in case she were to wake him, though if he was already asleep, she doubted it would be possible to wake him for some time. So instead, she ran her fingers through his hair, already so much grayer than the day she’d met him.

He shifted against her as her fingertips brushed gently over his scalp and he let out a noise that Josie placed somewhere between a whimper and a groan. Poor guy, she thought. How he managed day in and day out was beyond her. Being a nurse during a war was challenging enough if you asked her, but a surgeon? The demands and expectations on a daily basis would be enough to crush her, and that was on a slow day.

Josie eventually resumed her reading, holding the book with one hand and had BJ flip the pages for her as he paced the tent. She’d long ago become a regular presence there with them, and BJ had to wind down before he could sleep, so he was happy to help if it ultimately let Hawkeye get some rest. He’d worked twice the shift he had, and had he known they’d be so overwhelmed, he’d have helped out sooner, cut Hawkeye a break.

"You think he’s going to be okay," Josie asked, voice low as she spoke to BJ.

"Hawk?" BJ glanced at his friend as he pondered the question a moment. He looked so small there next to Josie, despite his lanky frame. "Yeah, he’ll live. It’ll be a rough twenty four hours, but he’ll come around. Always does."

There was something in BJ's tone that conveyed that he wasn’t sure of his answer himself, but for Hawkeye's sake they both decided that it was best to believe his words. The war had taken its toll on them all, hadn’t it? None of them would quite be the same as they were before it. Hell, Josie would be more concerned about someone if they were entirely unfazed by war.

At least this exhaustion, and this closeness she was having with him now, was more reassuring than tirelessly plugging on and self isolating until he simply couldn’t go on anymore and died on the spot. Surely it happened. She’d heard stories, horror stories from the wars and atrocities that came before this one. So yes, maybe they wouldn’t leave unchanged, and they surely wouldn’t leave unscathed in some ways, but they’d be fine given time. Maybe they’d even be good someday.

Josie Collins: @borg-queer, @chickensarentcheap, @sicktember

[ah0yh0y]

FARRAH DESERVED BETTER 

LIKE NO ONE MOUNRED HER AT ALL???????

llike????

SHE WAS GONNA CHANGE HER WAYS BUT NOBDY WILL SEE HER LIKE THAT BC SHES DEAD

also never knew how much i needed a murder mystery kinds sorta musical with like accutare rep of like teen girls fidhfodihfiofhfoihfdiofdhi 

or is this what horror movies are like? idk

GOD I NEED A PROSHOOT 

[loveinhawkins]

It’s Dustin who saves Eddie.

He doesn’t try and carry him back to the trailer, nothing like that—if he could manage that on determination alone, then he would, but his throbbing leg has other ideas.

So he stays by Eddie’s side. Throws off his hoodie and starts to rip any piece of his clothing that he can, because he’s come a long way from when he once stuck bandaids on Steve’s beaten up face.

“What… what are you doing?” Eddie says in between gasping breaths.

Dustin would laugh if he wasn’t so scared. “Buying more time,” he echoes. Then he looks Eddie right in the eye and adds, voice wavering, “I’m really fucking sorry in advance.”

He takes a deep breath and presses the material to Eddie’s chest with force.

Eddie screams.

Dustin grits his teeth. Keeps going.

He creates makeshift tourniquets for Eddie’s arms, keeps tearing at his shirt, then takes it off entirely to use as a larger bandage, ignoring the shock of cold against his skin; the only thought in his head is that he has to stop the bleeding.

Eddie’s hand finds his bare shoulder. Squeezes weakly. “Tha’s enough,” he slurs. “D-Dustin, stop.”

And Dustin only does what he says because it doesn’t look like any more blood is soaking through the material. He keeps pressure on the worst of the wounds, tries to keep his elbows locked, as if that will stop his relentless shivering.

And when he looks up, he sees a tear fall from Eddie’s eye, down his temple, into his hair—and Dustin somehow knows that it’s not from pain alone, that Eddie’s crying just because he can see how cold he is.

“M’sorry,” Eddie whispers. “Never meant for… for you to—”

“Shut up,” Dustin says, then hastily amends, “Actually, don’t shut up, just—just stay awake. They’ll be back soon, okay, Steve and Robin and Nancy, and they’ll—”

“Steve,” Eddie agrees. His voice goes up and down, like a little song: “Steve, Steve, Steve.”

“Yeah, he’ll—hey, Eddie, eyes open.”

“Mm-hmm,” Eddie says faintly. “Eyes… oh, forgot to… you were right, H-Henderson, he’s… a badass. S’got pretty eyes, too, like wow. Pretty, pretty…”

And…

Well. That’s a development.

“You can tell me all about Steve’s pretty eyes if you keep yours open.”

And Eddie’s eyes do jolt open at that, like he’s received an electric shock. He groans in mortification.

“Jesus Christ. Didn’t mean to—fuck, feel like I’m drunk, man, I can’t… just kill me.”

Dustin thinks he probably would have found that request funny if Eddie wasn’t saying it through teeth flecked with blood.

Still, he does let out a strangled, hysterical giggle when he says, “I know how to keep you awake now.”

Eddie groans again. “Spare me the—”

“He sings in the shower, like, full blown Elvis impression, all that jazz. And he denies having lucky socks, but he wears the same pair whenever Lucas has a basketball game.”

“Huh?” Eddie says eloquently.

“Pay attention, dude, you need to know what you’re getting into! Oh, he said when he went to see The Fox and the Hound, he cried.”

Eddie chuckles. “That’s… oh, that’s sweet.” He smiles, eyes bright, and Dustin suddenly knows that they’re gonna be okay. “Keep going?”

Dustin does. He talks about how Steve always says, “Two for joy,” even when he sees a singular magpie, because he reasons that the second one is always just hiding. How he eats ice-cream too fast, does a comical hop in place when he inevitably gets brain freeze. That whenever he happens to pick up Dustin from school, he almost always has a Simon and Garfunkel tape playing, sings along to At the Zoo as he turns out of the parking lot.

Dustin doesn’t mention the Farrah Fawcett spray; a promise is a promise.

Eddie seems pretty damn well entertained with what he’s been given, anyway. He keeps smiling, lets out breathy chuckles that give Dustin hope: that he still has enough energy to laugh.

“Okay, okay, I’m awake,” he says, “I’m so awake, jus’… you just relax.”

And it’s only when Dustin stops talking that he realises his teeth have been chattering the whole time.

Eddie gives an unhappy sounding hum, and his hand comes up to clumsily rub at Dustin’s forearm.

“Your lips are blue.”

“I’m f-fine.”

A sudden desperate yell splits through the air; Dustin didn’t know that Steve could sound quite like that.

“Here!” Dustin shouts as much as he can.

He hears three people running; Steve gets there first.

Eddie’s eyes go wide. “Steve,” he says, and Dustin’s seen enough movies to think that this could be it, the big moment, or at the very least that Eddie’s about to give another wandering speech on Steve’s eyes.

But instead—

“Steve, Steve,” Eddie repeats, “Dustin’s cold.”

“Jesus Christ,” Steve says; he’s already taking off his jacket, shoving Dustin into it with this frantic mixture of urgency and care.

Dustin’s shivers get even more pronounced as the jacket’s zipped up, as the warmth from Steve’s body heat hits him.

“Think E-Eddie’s—b-bleeding stopped,” he says, accidentally biting on his tongue thanks to his chattering teeth.

Steve looks over Dustin’s handiwork, eyes shining. “Yeah, you did good,” he says, choked, rubs his hands down Dustin’s forearms more effectually than Eddie had. “You did so good.”

“You must’ve been wearing your socks tonight, Harrington,” Eddie says.

Steve stares at him. It’s only when he starts to laugh that Dustin realises he’s crying at the same time. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Shh, s’okay,” Eddie says. “I cried at th’movie, too, don’ tell anyone. S’not fair what… s’posed to be a happy endin’…”

Steve catches Dustin’s eye, says, deadpan, even with a tear-streaked face, “Doc, I think we’re losing him.”

Dustin whacks him on the arm, because it’s so stupid, it’s so Steve, and, God, they're really gonna be okay.

“Dustin’s th’best doctor,” Eddie chants, “best, best, best…”

“Yeah, he’s a goddamn superhero,” Steve says sincerely.

There’s a look Steve has on his face while he lifts Eddie up, a fleeting softness right before he goes back into planning mode, scanning the trailer park in case of any more threats; where Eddie’s fingers curl around Steve’s neck, and Steve smiles down at him, and…

Dustin would put a bet on Steve thinking Eddie has pretty eyes, too.

At least, he would if he could stand up.

When Steve clocks his leg, his jaw works a couple of times before he speaks. “Hey, Robin, Nance?” He raises his voice, looking to some point in the distance. “Could you—help Dustin up, I’ve—uh, kinda got my hands full.”

His tone is light, but his chin trembles just a bit, like he might break down at the thought that he can’t carry Dustin out of here, too.

“Okay, c’mon superhero,” Robin says, suddenly by Dustin’s side; she counts down, and then Dustin’s being carefully lifted up, an arm flung around Nancy, too.

“I’m okay,” Dustin feels the need to say. Robin and Nancy are out of breath, and he can’t help noticing the vivid red marks around their necks.

“Yeah, you will be,” Robin corrects.

“Is—is Eddie—?”

“Look, he’s right in front,” Nancy says. “Steve’s got him.” She lowers her voice and when she says, “You were really brave, you know,” Dustin has to swallow a lump in his throat: for a moment feels thirteen years old, her hand in his at the Snow Ball.

And she’s right; Eddie is right in front. Dustin can see him trailing a hand up and down Steve’s arm, slow and soothing, and he’s talking, just too far away to be heard.

For a few steps, Dustin thinks that Eddie must be spilling more of what he’s learned, regurgitating the anecdotes.

But then Robin and Nancy pull him a little closer. And he can read Eddie’s lips.

He’s okay, Eddie is saying, looking away from Steve’s face to find where Dustin is. He’s right behind us, sweetheart. He’s okay.

[steveseddie]

love is stored in a can of hairspray

rating: t | cw: none apply | word count: 3,189

tags: eddie munson has a crush on steve harrington, eddie munson is a sweetheart, steve has a bad hair week and eddie comes to the rescue, fluff, soft boys, first kiss, getting together

for the @steddielovemonth prompt “love is going out of your way to do something you know will make them happy” by @forgottenkanji

a/n: i'm a day late for this one but in my defense i had a wedding yesterday and it was a crazy day! enjoy!

click here to read on ao3

***

There’s a reason why Steve Harrington was dubbed “The Hair” of Hawkins.

In all the years Eddie has known Steve or known of Steve, he’s never seen him have a bad hair day.

It doesn’t matter if it’s rainy or sunny, if he’s wearing a Scoops Ahoy sailor hat or if he’s walking down the halls of Hawkins High or if he’s fighting Demobats in the Upside Down after taking a dive in Lover’s Lake, Steve Harrington’s hair always looked great. Eddie doesn’t know how he does it. Well. He kinda does ‘cause Henderson is a blabbermouth who let Steve’s secret about the Farrah Fawcett hairspray slip one time, but Eddie still doesn’t understand how Steve always makes his hair look like that. He thinks there’s got to be magic involved, a deal with the devil so that Steve’s hair never looks bad.

That is until today.

Eddie arrives at the Wheeler residence and announces himself by ringing the bell three times just to be annoying. He waits for someone to come open the door for him, and in the meantime, crouches down to tie his Converse. The door opens while Eddie is still on the floor and the first thing he sees is a pristine pair of white Nikes that he could recognize anywhere.

“Well, well, well,” he says, tightening the laces and springing to his feet. “If it isn’t my favorite guy in all of Hawkins, I didn’t know you’d be- Jesus H. Christ, dude! What happened to your hair?” He blurts out the last part when his eyes land on Steve’s head. Or the thick untidy mass where his perfect hair should be, with strands matted on his forehead above his furrowed brow.

“Fuck you, man,” Steve grumbles and crosses his arms over his chest.

Eddie feels a little bad, but his mouth-to-brain already leaves so much to be desired around Steve on a good day-

Not that Steve looks bad. Eddie is convinced that he couldn’t look bad if he tried, but right now he certainly doesn’t look like The Hair of Hawkins.

“Sorry, it’s just-” He waves vaguely at Steve’s head. “What’s up with that?”

Steve groans loudly. “A bunch of my products are sold out at every fucking store in Hawkins,” he explains for what seems to be not for the first time today. “Been meaning to drive to the next town over to get them, but I’ve been picking up so many extra shifts at Family Video that I haven’t had the time.”

Eddie nods. Steve told him he was trying to save up money to move out of his parents’ house, but it was slow going, so he started working more shifts recently to speed up the process. He’s been seeing less of Steve because of that, which Eddie hates, but he understands the urge to get out of that house.

“That sucks, man.”

Steve pouts, pink bottom lip jutting out. “Tell me about it, I look-” he gestures at his head and trails off with a huff.

“It’s not that bad,” Eddie says, but Steve raises an eyebrow at him.

“Wheeler asked if a hamster died on my head,” he deadpans.

Fucking Wheeler. He’s gonna make him regret it during tonight’s campaign.

“Please, those kids wouldn’t know a good haircut if it bit them in the ass,” Eddie says, and Steve smiles a little. “Sure, it’s- different. Not what we’re all used to, but you still look-” Handsome, hot, beautiful. “You still look good, Harrington.”

Steve’s cheeks pink up slightly. “Thanks, Munson, but I don’t feel good, I don’t know. It’s just hair and it’s stupid, but I feel off.” He groans in frustration. “Whatever, I’ll just have to wait two weeks and then-”

“Two weeks?”

“That’s when I finally get a day off.”

Eddie blows out a puff of air. “Jesus, Steve.”

“Apartments aren’t cheap, man,” Steve says with a shrug. “But I think Keith might make me manager by the end of the month. That would bump up my pay a bit, I just have to, you know, show him I can do it.”

“You got this, Stevie,” Eddie says, patting Steve’s cheek. “No one rewinds and restocks like you do.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but his lips twitch up into a smile.

“If you two are done, we have a campaign to start!” Dustin says, appearing behind Steve and giving them both an exasperated look.

They exchange one themselves at Dustin’s tone, which they agree that he still needs to get in check.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re coming,” Steve says and Eddie tries not to jump in excitement when he realizes Steve is staying instead of just dropping off the kiddos. He’s been hanging around more and more during Hellfire meetings recently, even if he still doesn’t want to play. Eddie can’t complain about the last part, he likes just having him there.

He steps inside and Steve closes the door.

Dustin stares at Steve’s head.

“Quit staring, Henderson!” Steve protests and Dustin holds his hands up in defense.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just bad, dude.”

These fucking kids.

Eddie whacks Dustin upside the head. “Just for that, I’m making you roll with disadvantage for every attack you make tonight .”

Dustin’s eyes bulge out. “What! That’s not fair!” He protests loudly as they walk towards the basement.

Eddie suspects that Steve doesn’t know necessarily what that means, but he still gives him a grateful smile.

***

Eddie stares at the bag of hair products in his passenger seat.

He’s always been a whatever shampoo Wayne picks up from the store kind of guy, he’s never really spent money on hair products. Until now. And they’re not even for him.

He just spent a stupid amount of money on them, mostly because, even if he remembers how some of the bottles and hairspray cans Steve uses look like from using his bathroom when he stays over, he wasn’t sure which are the ones that Steve needs. So he bought a bunch of them.

In that moment, he wasn’t thinking about the money or how it might look to Steve that he knew what hair products he uses or that he drove to another town to get them. He was only thinking about Steve’s defeated look every time someone stared at his hair or commented on it, how he self-consciously tried to fix it at work every time a customer came in, how when they hung out at his house he would hide his hair under the hood of a sweater.

But now, parked in front of Steve’s house an hour before their movie night, Eddie does think about what he did- and he seriously considers leaving the bag on Steve’s doorstep and fleeing. It’s too much. It’s too ‘I have a big crush on you and I want you to be happy so bad that I drove to another town and raided the Hair and Beauty section at a store just so you can stop walking around looking like a kicked puppy’.

But at the same time, he did this so he could see Steve smile and it would be a shame to miss it. He just hopes that Steve is too distracted by having his beloved hair products that he won’t think too hard about what Eddie did, or what it might mean.

With a short prayer to whoever’s listening so that Steve doesn’t figure out his crush today and rejects him, Eddie grabs the bag and walks up the driveway.

He knocks on the door before he can talk himself out of it, and bounces from foot to foot while he waits, hiding the bag behind him.

Steve opens the door and when he sees Eddie his eyebrows shoot up in his face, disappearing behind the few hairs that hang over his forehead. Over the last week, Steve experimented with other products, and while he managed to make his hair look a little less like something died up there, it’s still not the same. “Eddie?”

“Hey, Stevie.”

He checks his watch. “You’re early. Actually no, you’re always late so being on time is early for you, you’re like, really fucking early.”

Eddie snorts. “First of all, I’m never late, I arrive precisely when I have to.” Steve rolls his eyes. “But today I’m really fucking early, as you so eloquently put it, because I had to do some shopping first and then I drove straight here. In fact, I come bearing gifts,” he says, hands shaking a little with anticipation.

Steve eyes him curiously. “For the kids?”

“For you, my King,” Eddie says, finally allowing Steve to see the bag and presenting it to him in the most dramatic way. Hinging at the waist, holding the bag over his head, the works.

“Eddie, what are you- wait, is that- oh.” Steve goes silent when realization hits and Eddie starts spiraling. He tries to make light of it. “I humbly present to you the magic potions for your characteristic luscious hair, your Majesty.”

But when he glances up at Steve through his lashes, he looks like he’s close to crying. For a moment, he worries that he fucked up- bought all the wrong hairsprays and shampoos and now Steve is mad at him-

But then Steve is grabbing Eddie’s shoulders and yanking him up for a hug where the bag ends up squished between them.

“Christ, Eddie, thank you,” he says against his shoulder, and Eddie feels a sense of accomplishment wash over him, as well as butterflies flying in his stomach from Steve holding him like this.

One of Eddie’s arms wraps around Steve’s waist. “I don’t know if I got all the right ones ‘cause I have shit memory, but I recognized some of the bottles from your bathroom and the lady at the store helped me find your famous Farrah Fawcett spray-”

He trails off when Steve squeezes him tighter. “I can’t believe you’d do this,” he murmurs, almost to himself, but Eddie hears it anyway.

“I had some shopping to do,” Eddie says casually, but it’s like Steve is squeezing the words out of him with his arms because he keeps talking. “And you’ve been walking around with your head low and those sad puppy eyes all week, and I couldn’t take it anymore.”

Steve pulls back and Eddie braces himself for Steve calling him out for overstepping or something, but instead he looks shyly at Eddie.

“I know it’s stupid like, it’s just hair and it shouldn’t matter that much, but it’s just- it’s important to me. I might not like “the Hair” thing but I am like, proud of my hair and this week I just haven’t felt like myself and people keep making comments and-” He shakes his head, a few rebellious strands falling on his forehead. “Anyway just, this means a lot, Eds, thank you.”

“Of course, Steve,” Eddie says with a smile. They stare at each other for a little too long, and Eddie starts fidgeting. “Now aren’t you happy that I got here so early? Gives you just enough time to get through your hair routine before everyone else gets here.”

Steve chuckles. “You don’t mind waiting while I fix this?” He gestures at his head, and Eddie shakes his.

“I can entertain myself just fine,” Eddie says, stepping inside when Steve sweeps his arm over the entrance.

“Okay, I’ll be back soon.”

Eddie grins. “Yeah, go doll up for me, sweetheart,” he teases and hears the way Steve’s breath catches, his eyes widening slightly and his cheeks tinting pink.

Then Steve moves in and places a quick kiss on Eddie’s cheek. “Thanks again, Eds,” he says and then he’s running upstairs.

Eddie stands there for at least ten minutes, red in the face, before he can make himself move.

***

Steve still hasn’t come downstairs by the time the doorbell rings so Eddie answers it.

Dustin is at the head of the arriving party and he raises an eyebrow at him when he sees him. “You’re on time,” he says, perplexed.

“And you’re a butthead,” Eddie replies and the other kids snigger behind Dustin. “Are you gonna come in or what?”

With an eye roll that is pure Steve, Dustin walks in followed by Wheeler, Sinclair and Max, and finally Robin and Nancy, who drove them all there.

Buckley narrows his eyes at him as she walks in. “Why are you on time?” She asks. “Unless you got here early so you and Steve could hang out alooone?” The way she says “alone” makes Eddie flush, which doesn’t help deny what she’s implying, even if it isn’t true.

Luckily, at that moment, Steve comes down the stairs and everyone’s attention turns to him.

“Dude, you got rid of the dead hamster finally!” Mike says and Max flicks him in the ear. Eddie smirks, that’s why she’s his favorite.

“He’s back!” Dustin cheers as soon as Steve’s hair is visible. Eddie smiles at the familiar look, but mostly at the way Steve smiles and holds himself, the slouch and the sad puppy eyes gone.

“There’s my handsome best friend,” Robin hoots and Nancy puts her thumb and index finger in her mouth and lets out an impressive whistle.

“Okay, okay,” Steve says, waving off their compliments and reactions as he reaches the ground floor. “Yes, the hair is back, we can move on now. There are movies to watch.”

He starts to usher them in the direction of the living room to get their movie night started now that they’re all here.

“Dude, I thought it would be two weeks before you could buy your hair things,” Lucas says, looking at Steve over his shoulder.

Steve freezes, his eyes darting to Eddie before he just shrugs at Sinclair, who probably doesn’t care that much about it because he just accepts that as a reasonable answer and follows the others to the couch.

The same can’t be said about Buckley.

“How did you get your hair products, Steve? ‘Cause I know you didn’t have them yesterday and you were working all day today.”

Their eyes meet again and Eddie gives a small shrug. They both know Buckley won’t drop it until she knows the truth.

“Eddie got them for me,” Steve says, mouth curling up in a smile that he directs at Eddie.

Buckley’s head snaps in his direction too, but she’s smirking, her eyes sparkling. “Oh did he?”

“Uh, yeah, I did.”

“You drove to another town, spent time and money on gas, and then spent more money just to get Steve his hair products?”

“Yup,” he says, popping the ‘p’, trying to be casual, but he can feel the heat on his cheeks.

“How generous of you,” she says but it sounds a lot like, ‘I see you and your big gay crush on my best friend’.

Eddie’s eyes dart to Steve. With their platonic bond it sometimes feels like they can read each other’s minds and Eddie wonders if Steve can see what she sees. He flushes brighter at the thought.

“Come on, Nance, let’s get started with the popcorn,” she says, hooking her arm with Nancy’s and dragging her away, leaving Steve and Eddie alone in the hallway.

“I’m sorry about her,” Steve says with a light chuckle. “And listen I can pay you- for the gas and for the products.”

Eddie shakes his head. “You don’t have to, I told you, they’re gifts.”

Steve ducks his head shyly and a strand of hair falls on his forehead with the movement. On impulse, Eddie reaches out to tuck it back into place. There, now Steve’s hair is perfectly styled again. He smiles. “Besides, it was worth it.”

“Oh.” Steve licks his lips a little nervously and Eddie can’t help but track the movement with his eyes. “You- you must really like my hair,” he whispers, eyes wide and expectant.

Eddie considers taking the out, making some joke about having always admired “the Hair” or something like that, but he finds that he doesn’t want to. Not with Steve looking at him like he would like hearing the truth.

So, Eddie takes a deep breath and hopes that he’s reading this right.

“I do, I really like it, but it’s not just that. You could walk around with a hamster on your head or get a buzz cut like El, and I’d still like it. I just. I like you.”

A slow grin appears on Steve’s face. “You really think I would look good with a buzz cut?”

A nervous laugh tumbles over Eddie’s lips. “Out of everything I said that’s what you-”

Steve shakes his head, cupping Eddie’s jaw with one hand and effectively shutting him up. “No, I- I like you too, Eddie.”

He sighs in relief. “Oh, thank God.”

And then, he grabs a handful of Steve’s shirt and pulls him towards him, crashing their lips together.

The moment they touch, Eddie lets out a low whine before he remembers that the kiddos are in the next room and Buckley and Wheeler could walk out of the kitchen any minute. So he tries to keep it down as he licks into Steve’s mouth, even if Steve kissing back just as passionately should be enough to drag more noises out of him.

It’s not until Eddie’s hands start moving from his shoulder to his neck on the way to his hair that Steve stops him, his fingers grabbing a hold of Eddie’s wrist and pulling away just enough to speak against Eddie’s lips.

Eddie chases after Steve’s mouth with another whine.

“Jesus,” Steve gasps. “We probably should- If this week proved anything is that out friends are overly invested in my hair so they’ll notice if you mess it up with your hands.” Eddie makes a disgruntled sound. Steve’s fingers catch one of Eddie’s curls, twirling it around it. “But if you want, after everyone leaves you can stay and I can, you know, pay you back for this.” He gestures at his hair.

Eddie’s brain must be melting out of his ears from kissing Steve because he dumbly says, “I told you that you don’t have to-” before he understands the meaning behind the words when he sees Steve’s smirk. “Oh. Yeah. I can think of a few ways you can do that.”

The way he waggles his eyebrows makes Steve giggle adorably, but before Eddie can kiss him about it, Robin pops her head out of the kitchen, making them jump.

“If you two are done giggling like teenagers, come help with the popcorn before the actual teenagers start a riot.”

“Aye, Captain Buckley,” Eddie says with a two-fingered salute. This time Steve muffles his giggle behind his hand.

With the other, he grabs hold of Eddie’s and starts dragging him to the kitchen. The whole time, Eddie feels like he’s floating.

He’s happy he made the trip, he’s happy he got Steve his hair products, he’s happy his hair are back to normal.

And he’s even more happy that he gets to mess it up later when he kisses Steve again after everyone leaves.

[starrystevie]

18+; cw: steddie have unsafe sex with women and kind of weird power dynamics

they're not exactly sure how it started. call it cowardice, call it nerves, call it the excitement of the game, but neither steve nor eddie know how exactly their situation started.

it's their normal now when they go out to bars or to clubs or to a concert packed full with warm bodies. one of them will slither away first with a smirk and a wink to find a partner for the night, pulling someone into their arms and pressing up against them from chest to toe. the other will always follow, finding their own someone to entertain them in the crowd.

this night isn't any different. eddie had told steve about some dance club outside of indy where the drinks were strong, the people were desperate, and the bathrooms had stalls big enough for two. they packed into the beemer with lightning like energy sparking between them as steve sped off to the city leaving wafts of farrah fawcett hairspray and cheap cologne in their wake.

eddie wasn't lying, the club is packed full of people who have half-lidded eyes and skin on show for anyone to look at and the vodka soda steve's sipping at burns his throat like gasoline. it doesn't take long for eddie to catch steve's eye and raise his eyebrows with a devilish smirk before slinking into the crowd. he must have a target in mind because soon enough, there's a brunette plastered to his front with one of his hands snaking up to hold the side of her neck.

steve needs to catch up. if eddie's already getting handsy then he doesn't have much time to find someone to occupy his time. the lights in the club are flashing all sorts of colors over the crowd while steve searches until his eyes land on a curly head of black hair. weaving through the dancing bodies, he finds the girl and puts a hand on her waist to get her attention.

it's too loud to hear anyone over the music so they talk with their expressions, a glance over a face, a lip bitten in between teeth, and then it's easy enough to slide in behind her. steve's hands cover her hips, empty glass discarded on whatever surface he could find, and he digs his fingers into the soft flesh he finds there. he can feel when she likes a song, her ass pressing into his hips more insistently as she dances along, and when he likes a song, his hips jolt up for friction.

nights like these go like clockwork and they're right on track for another perfect score. the girl eddie's dancing with already has her face plastered to his neck, pink tongue visible as she leaves marks behind and the girl steve found already has a hand curved up to tangle into his hair, keeping him close.

when steve and eddie's eyes meet from across the crowd, bass bumping up through the floor and warm bodies pressed up against their chests, the fun officially begins.

eddie always likes to drop his hands low onto his girl's ass while they make out, pulling her into him with a firm grip, open mouth kisses turning heated. steve always like to keep one arm around his girl's waist with the other traveling lower and lower teasingly as he licks up her neck in a practiced sloppy trail. but the thing is, even with the girls grinding against them, even in the dark smokey club, steve and eddie never take their eyes off each other.

with his tongue slipping into the girl's mouth, eddie brings up one hand to push her face enough to the side where he can see steve perfectly as he bites into his partner's neck. steve brings one hand further south to the front her skirt and presses oh so gently above her pussy while flashing eddie a smirk. they take them apart with their lips and their hands while never losing focus of what the other is doing, eyes never straying from one another.

steve's girl is usually the one who breaks first and tonight is no different. with his hand dipping low enough that he can feel the hem of her skirt against his cupped palm, her nails scratch into the back of his head as she turns to yell, "bathroom" into his ear over the music. he grins as they tangle their fingers, his cock straining painfully in his too tight jeans as they weave through the crowd.

he doesn't stop to see if eddie's following them. he knows he is.

it's when he latches the stall door shut as his girl undoes his belt that steve can hear more people coming in, high pitched giggles bouncing off of the tile floor. his girl looks a little concerned but it washes away when he grabs at one of her legs to drape it over his thigh, pressing their mouths together as they grind against the stall wall.

everything is going in the right order. they found their partners, brought them to a stall and as steve licks into her mouth, he can hear when eddie's belt hits the floor with a clang. just like clockwork.

with his free hand, steve pulls down his own pants to get his cock free and then brings it back up under her skirt, panties roughly pushed to the side. her manicured fingers reach down to stroke over his cock before slipping it inside of her wet cunt, matching sighs escaping them both at the sensation.

"fuck, " he hears eddie whisper and if they didn't do this every weekend, he might not have been able to pick it out over the booming music.

but they do do this every weekend. they do end up in bathroom stalls with their dicks in someone just as willing as they are. they do whisper barely heard filth into the room hoping it lands in the right ears. and they do end up fucking their girl for the night as hard as they can while imagining each other as they do it.

her pussy is nice and warm, nice and wet and perfect, but steve's picturing eddie bent over or on his back or on his knees while steve pushes into him instead. her breathy moans are drowned out as he focuses on eddie's deeper ones, on the way his skin is slapping against skin that isn't steve's, on the way he can hear eddie almost say his name but stopping halfway every time.

call it cowardice, call it nerves, but they can't touch each other. they can't let themselves touch each other. they stick to hungry eyes and hands wandering over a person they don't even want while they think about each other. they stick to letting their feet bump against each other between bathroom stalls as they fuck and choosing their girls based on hair color alone. they stick to pulling out and coming on the ground so they can see their releases mixing together because it's as close as they can get.

eddie fingers his girl to finish and lets palm slap against her clit noisily and steve drops down to eat her out with a clever tongue and leg over his shoulder. they pull their pants back up and let their girls leave before they exit the stalls themselves, steve wiping his mouth with the back of his arm, eddie licking off his fingers. their eyes meet in the bathroom mirror as they adjust themselves, wash their hands and slick back their rucked up hair.

they don't talk, can't talk, not until they're back in the car. steve leans his seat back the tiniest bit and eddie turns to prop a leg up in the seat as they look over the damage left behind. steve zeros in on the bite marks around eddie's neck and eddie see's how sticky wet steve's lips still are. they keep laps open, welcoming, available all while knowing it isn't an actual invitation.

"that was fun," one of them says while they stare at each other. it doesn't matter who says it because it doesn't take long until their cocks are back out, hard in their hands, while they debrief about what felt good, what felt nice, how many times they thought about each other as they fucked into someone that wasn't who they wanted.

steve humps his hips up, face turning red with exertion as he watches eddie's fist slide over himself. eddie whines like he does in the bathroom but this time with no music to cover it up. as he watches while eddie jacks off, his mouth will open slowly, desperate for a taste he can't have. as he watches steve's tongue come out to sit on his lower lip, eddie will whisper his name while sneaking a finger lower between his legs.

they come over their fists without breaking eye contact and steve reaches for a napkin to clean himself off. eddie, always wanting to one up him, grabs it out of his hands and darts his tongue out to get a taste before wiping himself off. they toss it out the window and tuck themselves back into their pants before heading back home without another mention of what happened.

they're not exactly sure how it started. but they both know that they don't want to stop. not until cowardice and nerves are gone and all that's left is touching each other outside of their imaginations.

[unbite]

happy chrismun my brother and his wife and i watched aIice in borderlands season 2 yesterday and i have hcs for the bones cinematic universe; 

pasha; king of hearts 

santiago; gets far, ultimately loses at a face card of clubs due to his inability to work in a team 

clementine; gets far, ultimately loses at a face card of hearts due to her competitive nature rendering other players suspicious 

farrah; queen of spades 

ange; does not get far at all. probably loses at the first stage during a hearts or diamonds game 

luce; gets far, ultimately loses at a face card of spades because they cannot utilize their wits or charm

kiakahi; gets far, may falter during face cards of spades but relies on calculations to stay safe. would be dubbed a valuable player by others and given protection

[rbinsgf]

Turn the other cheek, and I take it on the chin

(Now with a Part 2)

Saying Robin was pissed would be the understatement of the century. She was on a rampage. Mind focused on one target and nothing would tame her fury beside strangling the obnoxiously loud life out of Eddie freaking Munson.

Robin isn’t a violent person, she sometimes even called herself a pacifist, but she had limits.

Steve Harrington kicked puppy expression was her limit number one.

It was supposed to be a boring Tuesday afternoon shift at Family Video and Steve was to clock in two hours after her for the closing shift.

It was a normal boring Tuesday, not many customers came on Tuesdays so Robin was left to do and redo the inventory or browse the aisles she had arranged three times since starting her shift.

The video store was silent except for the faint sound of the top 40 and the squawking of her converse on the tiled floor.

But then the bell above the door jingled and Robin had turned with a smile, enthusiastic at the thought of any distraction, her smile vanished in an instant.

Before her was standing a sad looking Steve Harrington, his big cow eyes glossy with unshed tears and even his hair looked deflated.

Robin rushed over him, eyes scanning his figure for any kind of injury,

"Steve what hap- oof"

The force of her friend trying to bury his bigger frame in between her arms cut her short in her questioning.

Steve was now shamelessly sobbing in the fabric of her work vest, snot and tears mixing on the green fibers.

Robin stroked his hair and held him until he calmed down enough to talk. After a few minutes of Steve sobbing on her shoulder she beckoned him in the break room to sit him down and give him some water.

After Steve had calmed down and downed three cups of water like a man stranded in the desert, Robin sat next to him and waited.

A beat. And another. Steve opened and closed his mouth a few times in between sniffles, trying to work out an explanation to his breakdown.

Robin’s brows were creased in worry and she was seconds away from ripping her lips to shreds as she gnawed at them waiting for her friend to talk. And oh, oh how she would’ve preferred to hear something about the upside down, or a failed date or, god forbid, the discontinuation of the Farrah Fawcett spray. But what she heard was worse than any of the above..

~Around half an hour before~

Steve parked in front of the little house humming some David Bowie song he heard earlier that week.

It was a normal Tuesday, he was about to drive the kids home from Hellfire before joining Robin at work for the closing shift at Family Video.

The door to the house wasn’t locked so Steve let himself in as he had done dozens of times before, a small smile was tugging at his lips as he walked towards the basement hearing laughter and voices.

His smile flattered as the ongoing conversation became cleared as he reached the end of the stairs, not quite entering the room enough to be seen by the club.

Hellfire’s meetings were always boisterous and loud so Steve tuned them all out when waiting for it to end, but he just couldn’t do it today, not after hearing some very interesting traits about Eddie’s newly created NPC.

Apparently Eddie thought it would be fun to make an NPC based on Steve making it a mean airhead who dies trying to get a girl at all cost.

Eddie had seemed pretty proud of him actually so Steve didn’t mind at first,

but then in the span of a second they went from talking about the NPC to talking about actual Steve.

Mike had said something about the NPC being a genius next to who he was based off of and, it’s Mike so Steve didn’t really care.

But then the others seemed to have took it as an opportunity to open some sort of trial on him.

They all started to talk over each other about some dumb stuff he had said or stupid thing he did or those times when he doesn’t get what everyone’s talking about. And it’s okay, Steve knows that he isn’t smart or whatever but it still hurts.

Eddie only pitched in after the rest has quieted down and saying if the NPC was to be 100% accurate he would’ve made it "an asshole King of a bullshit land"

That’s when Steve left, turning on his heels and bumping on the door on his way up the stairs.

The other noticed him then, it only made them laugh at how he couldn’t take a joke or be grateful to be even remotely included in the game.

He walked out of the house and into his car, speeding off towards Family Video.

He didn’t look back not once, the kids could take themselves home for all he cared or Eddie would take them anyway. The thought of Eddie hurts a spot in his chest Steve tried to ignore as he waited for the streetlight to turn green. He had thought they were finally friends, counted the guy as one of his best friend actually. Steve had thought Eddie had seen him for who he really was and liked that real Steve. Steve had told Eddie all about that time in high school, why Steve acted that way, he had told him about the bathroom incident and Nancy’s words. Steve thought Eddie had understood him. Guess Steve was wrong about that too. The light turned green and Steve swallowed his tears.

If there is someone above it all, Robin hopes they can pardon all the awful thoughts that crossed her mind about Eddie Munson and what she was about to do to him.

She was vibrating with fury, Eddie knew Steve now, they’d spent so many nights hanging out the three of them. (She had even thought that there was something more there between the two of them. )

Oh she hoped Eddie hadn’t skipped too many P.E classes, she was about to hunt him and he was better of running. And fast.

"Robin you’re hurting my hand"

The quiet wincing coming from Steve brought her back to the situation at hand, she quickly released his hand and got up,

"The kids, they’re dumb and ungrateful brats, but they’re still children so I’m mad at them but well…Now Eddie ? Stevie I want you to know that I’m about to break each of his bones one by one."

Steve snorted at her spiel,

"It’s not worth it Robbie, I think he wanted to keep the approbation of the Hellfire’s members by shitting on the dumb jock, for old times sake and whatnot.."

"No it’s not okay Steve ! Eddie is supposed to be your friend and that’s so hypocritical of him to rant about conformity but still seeking validation by shitting on you !"

Robin was red, her arms flailing around her in angry motions. Steve sighed and looked away,

"I mean, I was an asshole, maybe he hasn’t forgiven me and waited for revenge or something."

"Yeah key words here Steve, was, it’s all in the past and you weren’t that bad per se." That is true, for all his King Steve title, Steve didn’t do much aside from snorting next to Tommy shoving nerds into lockers or cackling when Carol’s venom was particularly snarky. He never touched anyone, yes he was arrogant and mean but it was all a disguise.

And Eddie fucking knew that.

Robin looked at Steve, his forlorn expression and anxious hands nearly ripping holes in his sweater cemented her next action.

In one smooth motion she took his car keys and ran out of the store.

Hellfire survived an angry town mob, the Kids survived a whole other dimensions but none of them were ready for what was about to come.

Eddie may have survived once, thanks to Steve’s CPR training by the way, but Robin was seriously considering finishing what the bats had started.

—————————————-

Alright gang I’m slowly going back to writing and I thought of some angst because why not right ? This story will probably be made of three parts i think.

If you guys have any tips, requests, critics or literally anything to say please let me know I love talking with people here and it doesn’t happen a lot !

(Next chapter will be from Eddie’s pov)

[stonathandreamer]

Glasses

🔸 Masterlist

Where Jonathan finds out Steve wears glasses.

(Steve Harrington wears glasses and that is not up for debate!)

--------------------------👓👓--------------------------

Jonathan pulls up in front of the Harrington residence, spotting two cars parked in the driveway. He takes a deep breath. Having to deal with Steve's parents can be exhausting at times.

Mrs. Harrington is a nice lady but can also be slightly snobbish at times, while Mr. Harrington has the personality of a rock worn by the tides; he's just there, not caring about anything - wife and son included. Jonathan tried talking to him once; his only response was 'hum'. According to Steve, his dad only talks to him when he wants to chastise his life choices, poor grades, or lack of a real, decent job.

Jonathan shook his head slightly, got out of his car, and walked to the front door, gently knocking on it. Jonathan swung his arms back and forth as he waited, feeling the chilly night breeze at the back of his neck. It was a rather cold night with light rain forecasted. He had an umbrella in the backseat of the car in case of emergencies.

A commotion was heard from the inside - the unmistakable voices of Mr. and Mrs. Harrington, probably asking each other to answer the door. It swung open a few seconds later, revealing Mrs. Harrington in a beautiful (and obviously expensive) black dress.

"Oh, Jonathan, it's you! Come in, honey." She gestured for him to come inside while adjusting her pearl necklace. "Steven mentioned you two would hang out tonight. He's in his room getting ready. You know the way!"

"Thank you, Mrs. Harrington. You look beautiful, by the way."

Mrs. Harrington smiled as she fixed her hair - she was definitely the one who passed Steve the good hair genes.

"Who was it?" Mr. Harrington's monotonous voice came from the living room.

"Just Jonathan!"

"Who?"

"Jonathan!" She yelled far too loudly. "Steve's friend! The one who's always with him!"

Friend, he mentally scoffed while climbing up the stairs to Steve's room - it was funny just how oblivious these two are, almost like they live in a different universe. According to Dustin, anyone who looked at Steve and Jonathan for more than 10 seconds knew they were dating.

Steve's door was closed, and Jonathan could hear him humming a song, probably from ABBA. He knocked on the door and opened it after hearing a faint "come in."

"Hey, Steve."

The boy in question, who was standing in front of his closet, looking for a jacket that matched the shirt he was wearing, swiftly turned his head around, like he was trying to hide something.

"Jon, hey! H-how are you?"

His hands were behind his back, definitely hiding something.

"What are you hiding?"

"Nothing."

Jonathan rolled his eyes.

"I'm not going to laugh if it's your Farrah Fawcett hairspray."

"I-it isn't..." He lowered his eyes and sighed. "It's my glasses."

He removed his hands from behind his back, revealing a pair of round, thin-framed glasses.

Steve was always embarrassed about wearing his glasses in public, remembering how Tommy H. always made fun of his fellow classmates who wore glasses, calling them 'four eyes' or other stupid names. So he always wears them when he's at home.

Jonathan looked at Steve's glasses for a few seconds and then looked back at him.

"That makes sense," was all he said, taking Steve aback. He thought his boyfriend was going to tease him or something. Like, why wouldn't he? Everyone made fun of people who wore glasses.

"Huh?"

"You're always squinting your eyes. I thought it was just a bad habit," he replied, shrugging, eyes turning to look at the glasses in Steve's hand. "Can... Can you put them on? Just for a second."

He nodded and put the glasses back on. As soon as he put them on, a fond smile appeared on Jonathan's face. That was new. Steve knew the glasses made his vision less blurry, but he didn't know that they also made smiles appear on his boyfriend's face.

"What?"

He asked, tilting his head to the right, curious as to why Jonathan was smiling - given that Jonathan Byers was not the type of guy who smiled all the time.

"Nothing. It's just... You look cute with glasses."

His cheeks immediately flushed red.

"R-really? You don't think I look stupid? Or like a nerd? Or..."

"No, I think you look perfect."

Jonathan still had that stupid smile on his face. God, that stupid and cute smile that Steve loved.

Without a second thought, Steve stepped forward and kissed him, taking Jonathan slightly by surprise. They never kissed when Steve's parents were nearby - or within a 2km radius, just in case.

"Steve... Y-your parents!"

"Relax, my dad never comes into my room, and you know my mom, you can hear her from miles away." He gave him a quick peck on the lips before turning his attention back to the closet. "Which jacket do you think is better, the gray or the black one?"

***

Steve went down the stairs (wearing his gray jacket), Jonathan right behind.

"Bye, mom, bye, dad, we're going out!"

"Bye-bye, sweetie... Oh, you're wearing your glasses!"

"Yeah, Jonathan said I should wear them more."

"Really?"

"I just told Steve he shouldn't strain his eyes, unless he wants to wear bigger glasses in the future."

"I've been telling him that for years!"

"Jonathan can be really persuasive, mom." He rubbed the back of his neck, not wanting this conversation to continue any longer. "Anyway, we're leaving. C'mon, Jonathan!"

He grabbed his (boy)friend's arm and quickly left the house.

Jonathan drove on the last date, so today it's Steve's turn. He opened the passenger seat's door for Jonathan, giving him a quick bow.

"Monsieur."

What a gentleman. Jonathan rolled his eyes while trying to contain a smile.

"So... Where are we going?"

He asked when Steve got in the car.

"There's this new restaurant that opened recently. I think you're gonna love it!" He started the car. "And if you don't like it... It was all Robin's idea."

"You ask Robin for date ideas?"

"No, she just gives them without me having to ask."

The date went perfectly. Jonathan loved the place Robin suggested, and after dinner, they drove aimlessly through town (something they both find relaxing), listening to music and holding hands - and occasionally kissing whenever they stopped at a red light and no one was there to see them.

***

The next day, Jonathan drove Will and Mike to Starcourt Mall - they wanted to buy some comic books and 'it was too hot to ride their bikes', a shitty way of saying 'we're too lazy to bike there'.

Well, since he was already there, Jonathan might as well stop by Scoops Ahoy and pay Steve a visit - and no, he did not think about it when Will and Mike asked for a ride to the mall.

The ice cream parlor wasn't as busy as he thought, given that today was quite warm. Steve was leaning over the counter, head down, reading a magazine.

"Hey, Steve." His head shot up as soon as he heard his boyfriend's voice. Aside from the wide smile, there was something else that caught Jonathan's attention. "You're wearing your glasses?"

"Yep!" He pushed his glasses gently with the index finger of his right hand. "Figured I should wear them more. Don't want my eyesight to worsen for not wearing them, y'know."

"Liar!" Robin yelled from the back room. "He's only wearing them because you said he looks cute with them."

Steve turned beet red while Jonathan just smiled and shook his head.

"Well..." Jonathan leaned closer. "You look cuter when you wear them with your uniform."

He got even redder - a little more and Steve will explode.

Robin rolled her eyes and made a mark on a board with "Steve x Jonathan" written on it.

Steve: 3 x Jonathan: 7.

----------------------------------------------------------

[theromanticrationalist]

My Favorite Things About Sheldon Cooper

I will be adding to this list as I go and remember various things.

His eidetic memory. It is something I kind of always wished I had, but I know that with great power comes great responsibility. In any case, I love that Sheldon literally remembers like E V E R Y T H I N G. I know Sheldon has a tendency towards arrogance, but is it really arrogance when you are as smart as he is?

His unique style. In Young Sheldon, everyone always makes fun of his bow ties and in TBBT everyone always makes fun of his nerdy shirts. I think everyone is clearly insane because this guy is fly and is a smart dresser! I love that he loves color and patterns, and even does conflicting patterns quite often, somehow making it work. But he also wears a black suit VERY WELL INDEED. 🫠🫠🫠 (My favorite t-shirt of his is, of course, the melting Rubick’s cube shirt.)

His hiccup, airy stuttering little laugh. He did it more often earlier in TBBT, so I miss it now, but I think it is just sooooo adorable. Everything he does is adorable. Oh, and Iain Armitage imitates it so well! Actually, Armitage is doing a phenomenal job portraying young Sheldon, and mimicking Jim Parson’s style and exhibiting Sheldon’s personal ticks. I love seeing genius at work!

His love of trains. I think it is a pure love, a child-like love. The fact that he would almost give up Physics for them says a lot. Everyone makes fun of him for this as well, but I think bro just knows what he loves and loves it unabashedly. (Amy’s a lucky, lucky girl!)

His love of Star Trek. He’s a full-blooded Trekkie and Spock fanboy. Love how he often uses Trek to understand his world and process his emotions, especially in relation to Spock’s personal journey. This is me. That’s literally just me. (And he loves TAS too! But he gets points off for dissing TMP! He’s absolutely insane to think that it is poor quality cinema, but considering that the film is more abstract, I can understand why Sheldon wouldn’t like it.)

His love of tea. The fact that the boy has a box of tea on hand to make anyone in distress a hot beverage is like his top saintly trait! Get you such a man! “Tea is drunk to forget the din of the world.” – T’ien Yiheng

When he says, “Aww…” Both Jim Parsons and Iain Armitage sound SOOOO cute when they say it. Sad little string bean boy!

The fact that his story sometimes takes a quasi-Forest Gump vibe, if Forest Gump was completely unhinged. In that he befriends famous people, influences them unawares (mostly to their chagrin), or effects history (e.g. Elon Musk stealing his formula for the SpaceX rocket.) I think it is very charming and Americana-esque!

Dr. Sheldon Cooper and Dr. Amy Farrah Fowler presents Dr. Sheldon Cooper’s Fun with Flags. While watching TBBT, I wanted his YouTube show to be real SO BAD, especially when Amy joined him. I don’t give a crap about flags, but I would eat that content right up you have no idea! 🤤 It would have been so cool if they created his YouTube channel for real and aired it simultaneously as TBBT was running. I bet fans would have loved that! I know I would have! I feel so, so bad for Sheldon because he is a hyperfixating stan just like me! But no one understands or respects his super obscure niche interests.

The fact that he can sing and dance so well. I loved how Young Sheldon showed how this came about for him. That Annie episode was brilliant and hysterical, and I loved how it showed Sheldon’s boldness and unorthodox personality. Yeah, he ended up getting stage fright, but that was based in his anxiety and fear of crowds, and not the fact that he was a boy about to play a girl’s role in a musical at a Texas high school! (Everyone if you haven’t watch YS, you really need to!!) I love, though, that he has such a good voice and that TBBT gives him chances to sing and perform so often, especially when he gets intoxicated. It made me so happy to see that Jim Parsons got an Emmy for his role as Sheldon, because really he is an amazing performer on every level! Comedy, music, drama - he can do it all, and sometimes all three at once! I should do a whole other post just analyzing the different layers of Parson’s performances on this show! 😍

[itsfarrah]

|Chapter 5|

As the first blush of dawn tinged the sky, Farrah awoke, her spirits buoyed by the remnants of a whimsical dream featuring the Dashwoods at Sir John Middleton’s party. In her slumber, she had seen them engaged in a merry, if somewhat absurd, dance involving three-legged races and copious amounts of laughter. The incongruity of the vision brought a smile to her face as she sat up in bed, the sheets pooling around her.

She moved to her vanity, the morning light casting gentle illuminations across the room, and began to brush her hair. Her thoughts, unbidden, wandered to the forthcoming party, and the notion of a gentleman seeking her company caused her cheeks to bloom with color. She quickly dismissed these fancies with a shake of her head, laughing softly at her own silliness.

Her musings were abruptly interrupted as Margaret burst through the door, brimming with excitement. “Farrah, make haste! Breakfast awaits, and we mustn't tarry if we are to ready ourselves for the party!” Grabbing Farrah’s hand, Margaret pulled her toward the dining room where the scent of a warm meal filled the air.

At the breakfast table, Marianne and Mrs. Dashwood were already deep in conversation about the evening’s prospects, their voices a blend of excitement and eager anticipation. Elinor, ever the practical sister, was at the stove, flipping what appeared to be pancakes. She looked over her shoulder, her eyes twinkling as she teased Marianne and their mother, “Perhaps today we shall finally see our dear Marianne swept off her feet!”

The table burst into laughter, the joyous sound mingling with the clink of cutlery and dishes. As they ate, the conversation naturally drifted back to the party, each sharing their hopes and slight anxieties about the evening.

After breakfast, Farrah excused herself to prepare for the party. She took a leisurely bath, allowing the warmth to soothe her nerves. Once dried and dressed, she stood before the mirror. The gown she chose was reminiscent of the one worn by Pauline Bonaparte in the painting by Robert Lefèvre—elegant and striking with hues of blue, white, and gold, its design subtly challenging the typical English fashion with a dash of American boldness.

Her hair was styled in a loose bun with curls softly framing her face, enhancing her natural beauty without ostentation. A light touch of makeup and a pair of matching silk gloves completed her ensemble. She descended the stairs, her gown whispering against the steps.

The Dashwood family ceased their chatter, momentarily struck by Farrah’s appearance. Regaining their composure, they showered her with compliments, to which Farrah responded with modest demurs, deflecting the praise back onto them.Observing the faint blush coloring Farrah's cheeks, Mrs. Dashwood briskly gathered us all and ushered us into the carriage.

As the carriage wheels crunched the gravel beneath them, the conversation inside turned, at the behest of Mrs. Dashwood, to Colonel Brandon, the very mention of whom seemed to carry a certain weight of respect and intrigue.

“He is quite a sight, you know,” Marianne began, her eyes alight with the vividness of her description. “Tall, with an air of quiet strength, and his countenance—oh, it speaks of depth and the kind of handsome maturity one reads about in novels.”

“Not to mention his intellect and his admirable service in the army,” Elinor added, her tone reflecting both admiration and a hint of melancholy for the man’s past trials. “He has just returned from a strenuous deployment in the West Indies and Australia. It must have been quite taxing.”

Mrs. Dashwood nodded, her expression turning somber as she delved deeper into his history. “Poor soul, he has indeed been unlucky in love. Years ago, he was quite taken with a young woman named Eliza, a beauty of gentle disposition whom he intended to marry. But alas, fate was not kind. She was compelled to wed Colonel Brandon’s elder brother, a match of convenience that broke more than one heart.”

Marianne sighed, her romantic sensibilities clearly piqued. “And after his brother passed away, Eliza left him, vanishing from his life forever. One cannot help but feel for him; such misfortune in love is a cruel burden.”

“The poor man,” Elinor murmured, shaking her head. “It seems unjust that someone so deserving of happiness should be so thoroughly cursed by love’s caprices.”

The carriage fell into a brief silence, each lost in contemplation of Colonel Brandon’s plight, until Mrs. Dashwood, ever the matchmaker, brightened and said, “Perhaps, Farrah, someone fresh from different shores could change his luck. You are both new beginnings in your own right.”

Farrah, caught between amusement and bashfulness, managed a laugh. “Oh, Mrs. Dashwood, a distinguished man like him would hardly find what he needs in an American orphan like me.”

Their light-hearted banter filled the carriage as it rolled towards the Middleton estate, where the evening’s festivities awaited, and where, unbeknownst to Farrah, her fate might intertwine with the very man they discussed with such fervor.

Arriving at the party, they were greeted by the sound of laughter and music, the estate bustling with guests and festivity. As they alighted from the carriage, Farrah took a deep breath, steeling herself for the evening ahead, filled with both excitement and a hint of trepidation about the possibilities the night might hold.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Colonel Brandon awoke with a rare sense of tranquility that morning, the remnants of a pleasing dream lingering in his mind—a dream filled with laughter and light, a stark contrast to the last arduous eight months. It was a luxury to wake naturally, without the harsh summons of duty or the jarring sounds of a military encampment, and he savored the unfamiliar indulgence of arising late.

After dressing in simple attire, he descended to partake of a modest breakfast, enjoying the quietude that only a morning at one's own pace could offer. With a light meal concluded, Brandon donned his hat and strolled into his well-tended garden. The air was crisp, the garden lush with the bounty of late summer. He carefully selected an assortment of ripe fruits and crisp vegetables, envisioning them as a thoughtful offering to the Middletons. His next choice was a fine bottle of wine from his cellar—a vintage that had matured as gracefully as he hoped his own years were unfolding.

Once his gifts were prepared and set aside, Brandon retreated to the sanctuary of his personal quarters for a soothing bath. The warm water was a balm to his weary body, and he took his time shaving, ensuring his appearance was as meticulously tended as his estate. Clad in the outfit he had selected the night before he examined his reflection. The mirror showed a man marked by recent trials yet carrying himself with an enduring hope that perhaps, at today’s gathering, new joys might begin to soften the old scars.

Mounting his horse, Colonel Brandon felt a stirring of anticipation. The ride to the Middleton estate was brisk and invigorating, bolstering his spirits further. As he approached the familiar grounds, his thoughts were optimistic, tinted with a cautious excitement about the impending social gathering. This day, he mused, might yet hold more promise than any dream could foretell.

[rogueguardianforhire]

@the27percent

Farrah quietly was standing around selling ice cream out of a cart when Astranagant activated. And it wasn't normal. Something was up. Something odd.

And all she saw was this woman before her. "H-hello!" Farrah said trying to dismiss her strange phantom behind her. "Welcome to... Astranagant ice cream. Here's our mascot now. Would you like some ice cream?" She didn't get it, but tried to play coy. And was terrible at it.

[cocoakiwis]

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