Tumgik
#i have not written anything in months
fourtoomanyships · 2 years
Text
Annabeth has one rule: don't date someone in the same major. It leads to unhealthy competition, comparison, and bad habits. Luckily for her, she's dating a Marnie biologist. But when a certain guy with the fluffiest black hair she's ever seen transferred to NYU, she might have second thoughts...
She and Jason are dating
Jason is a marine biologist
Purely to throw off the reader
Percy had previously been going to a community college and transferred to NYU when he had the funds
He works as a waiter at a yogurt shop and an olive garden to get that bag
I'm thinking junior year
They meet on the campus green a couple weeks after school starts
Academic rivals bc their mad smart
They become friends when they realize their both mad smart
Like best friends
Pretty soon they have really deep theological convos
Jason is jealous
Proper fight between Annabeth and Jason where they break up
Annabeth is heartbroken
Percy comforts her bc they besties
He realizes he likes her
She just got dumped tho so he doesn't say anything to her
A couple months ago by
Percy gets her a really thoughtful Christmas gift
Annabeth gets him a sweater entirely to large for him
Annabeth realizes she likes him
Percy does something reckless (car crash, tumbles down concrete stairs, etc..)
Annabeth tells him she likes him, realizing that life is to short to not have people you love in it
First date is super awkward
They get thru it tho
They official get together a week after Valentine's day bc "having your anniversary on v day is cliche"
After they let people know their dating Jason's all sour abt it
Annabeth doesn't really care tho
The end
Or just fluff and they move in together senior year
Annabeth goes on to get her doctrate
Percy j likes the math part bc his dyslexia makes it less bad
33 notes · View notes
solfinite · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
hello finally putting my au stuff down on paper after several months.. also finally chose a name for it !! it's called Sonic Aeroventure :)
(+xtra traditional sketches below)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
356 notes · View notes
kiaraalazulu · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
mashwood week day 3: "tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway."
826 notes · View notes
stunie · 8 days
Text
it’s so easy to forget that you can literally write whatever you want
59 notes · View notes
osamusriceballs · 1 year
Text
One week
Bokuto x fem reader
Warnings: NSFW
Words: ~ 1,7 k
About: Just Bokuto missing you so, so much. And kinda cumming too fast.
Tumblr media
It's been a week.
Only one short week of you being apart.
You remember how you held Bokuto's face in your hands and told him that you'll miss him—and how he adorably pouted and told you that he'd miss you more and win this game for you and make you proud.
You had smiled and told him that you're always proud of him, and he had simply wrapped his arms tightly around you and kissed you goodbye.
It's been a week since that moment, and now you've been anxiously waiting for him to come back.
He did win the game. For you, baby, as he had proudly reassured you on the phone, telling you that he'll make sure to take the next flight to visit you—and you know he will come home any second.
A rustling noise of keys makes your ears perk up, and after a few moments that seem like forever, you finally see him.
Koutarou.
"Y/n!" His energetic voice echoes through your whole apartment, and you barely manage to get up before he already makes his way towards you and wraps his big arms around you.
"Baby, I missed you so much. So, so much." He emphasizes every word by pressing kisses against your cheeks, your lips—everywhere he could reach, his full lips feeling soft against your skin, just like you're used to remembering his touch.
"I've missed you too, Kou." You smile and press yourself closer to him, not leaving any distance between your bodies now. He instantly responds with his hands coming from your back to your hips, holding your body in a firm grip. You look up at him, noticing how intently he's suddenly looking at you. You squirm in his hold, a sudden feeling of want and need rushing through your body—oh, how you've missed his touch too during the past week. He seems to feel the same, his hands roaming around your body, wandering up on your shoulders, and resting on your ass cheeks finally, gently squeezing the soft flesh.
"Baby, can we... can we go to the bedroom, maybe?"
Your heart stops for a second, your body already tingling with slowly building anticipation. As much as you want to talk to him, you also want to be close to him- and, oh, how much you crave his touch now.
"Please." You tilt your face upwards and press your lips against his—in a deep and intense kiss, hoping to feel the same hunger from him, and he is quick to push his tongue into your mouth, turning the kiss into a messy tangle of tongues, lips molding against each other, and bodies pressing hardly against each other. His hands move from your ass to your thighs, and it only takes him one firm movement to grab them and wrap them around his waist. You grab his shoulders and bury your hand in his hair, enjoying the feeling of his soft fluffy hair, slightly pulling on the strands because you know the effect this has on him. He groans into the kiss, blindly stumbling in the direction of the bedroom, not paying too much focus on anything else besides you. You mentally bless his reflexes and strength for saving you both from falling when he stumbles against his bag that he had left on the ground, and he slightly pulls back to focus on the way, walking into your shared bedroom with a few hasty steps.
His grip on your thighs tightens when you rake your nails against his chest, feeling his muscles under the black shirt, your breathing pattern irregular when he finally reaches the bed and stops. An excited grin is displayed on his face when he turns to sit on the bed, the motion effectively placing you right on his lap. His hands leave their place on your thighs and wander under your shirt, feeling the warm skin of your stomach, grazing against your ribs, causing a whine to leave your lips while you involuntarily try to close your legs—a futile attempt when his thighs both rest between yours.
"Baby, I missed your body, missed touching you like this." He breathes out when he roams his hands against your bare skin, feeling you everywhere within his reach. "Kou, please touch me." You know that you sound whiny, that he is already touching you, but you just need more of him—you want to feel him everywhere.
"I am, I am, already touching you. What do you need, baby? I'll give it to you." One hand comes up from under your shirt and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. His eyes are full of love and affection, a dark need lingering behind these pure emotions. That's the Koutarou you've been missing for so long—
"Want to feel you. Want everything." You mumble, knowing that he will take care of you so good—he always does. And he immediately nods and leans back to pull his shirt over his head, effectively leaving his upper body bare—and god, the smooth sun-kissed skin covering his muscular body makes your cheeks burn and flush. You push against his shoulders, and he gets the hint and rests his back on the bed, waiting for you to join him. And you're quick to lean down, still sitting straight on his crotch that you feel hardening with every shift of your body, and you start to kiss down on his neck, making your way down to his collarbones and chest. "Baby—" his voice has turned darker, more needy, and he throws his head back into the pillow when you lick and bite the skin on your way to his prominent v-line and to his dark happy trail right above his boxers.
"Baby—" a loud whimper leaves his lips, and he suddenly bucks his hips almost to your face. You lift your head and look up at him, his chest heaving heavily, and he suddenly sits up and leans down to kiss you intensely.
"Wanna feel you, baby. Please let me." He gently grabs your arms, and now it's your turn to lay on your back, and he gently pulls your shirt up to expose your chest. Your hands fist the sheets underneath as he pushes your bra to the side, and his head instantly leans down to kiss the valley between your tits. "Kou—" a gasp leaves you at his eagerness when he leaves messy, wet kisses against your body, but his hands already fumble with your pants. Bokuto helps you shed yourself out of your pants, and your panties are quick to follow.
You barely register how he undresses himself; in the next second, he's already hovering over you again and gasping your name against your neck.
"Y/n—missed you so much, baby," his voice right next to your ear makes you shiver in anticipation and you know he won't make you wait any longer. You arch further into him and push your hips against his, until you feel his bulge against your stomach. He grinds against you, the hardness of his cock pressing against you, and you slowly bring your hands down his back to bring your hand between your bodies to his cock, but he is quick to stop you when he realizes what you're about to do. "Can I—put it in already? Wanna feel your warmth, wanna be buried in your pussy." A shiver runs down his body, and you nod with a breathy whine when he lines up at your entrance.
So full. Only the head of his cock nudged between your legs, and you already feel full. He slowly inches deeper, the stretch delicious and welcome, especially since you haven't seen him for quite some time, and your body is overwhelmed with sensations and feelings. "Kou—"
"It's okay, baby. It's okay. I'm here." He keeps eye contact as he pushes deeper, but you can see him struggling as well, with his breath shallow and fast and his face blissed out.
He moans loudly for you when you clench around him, the sound unrestricted and loud in the room, and you tug on his silvery-white strands as a response. His moan changes to a whimper, a cute needy sound coming from this big, beefy man, and he finally allows his hips to move, to feel your warmth and wetness. You know you're already dripping for him, making his cock wet, and the lubrication makes him easily glide in and out of you. The first few thrusts start steady and slow, but the whimpering sounds won't stop coming from his lips, a few beads of sweat running down his forehead while he slowly ruts his hips against yours. "Baby—I'm sorry—" he gasps and presses his head against your neck. "Can't fuck you- like I want to—'s too much, missed you too much—" his hips suddenly stutter, and his body tenses on top of yours, and you feel him cumming, the warmth filling you up and making you feel so good while he cums and cums, throaty moans escaping his lips along an incoherent mixture of your name and prayers.
His body finally goes limp above yours, his massive weight caging you underneath, and you gently rake your nails against his back and caress the smooth skin under your fingers.
You stay like that for a few seconds, only your rapid breaths filling the room, until he tenses and sits up a bit to look at your face.
"Baby—I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to cum so fast," another whimper leaves his lips when his softening cock slips from your pussy, and his cum starts leaking out from you. It's a lot. You felt him cumming before, and you know that he usually cums quite a lot- but the amount that's starting to leak from you now is insane.
"Kou—you came so much. All for me?" You ask and bring your hand to his cheek, only for him to lean into your touch. "All for you, baby. Haven't touched myself since I last saw you. Wanna give you everything, always."
He brings his lips down to yours and connects them in a deep kiss, his body slightly trembling from having just finished. He pulls back eventually with a look of sadness on his handsome face, and you know that he is disappointed in himself. "You didn't finish, baby. I want to make you feel good too." Your heart swells with affection at his words, and you smile at him with hearts in your eyes probably.
"It's fine. I'm feeling really good already."
"Y/n, baby." He smiles when he says your name and fully lifts his body, his prominent muscles on his chest and arms all showing when he leans back and looks down at you. "You know that I can give much more than that." He grins, the sweet playful grin that you love so much on him, and he leans down to kiss down on your body, his hands holding your waist and pressing you down to the sheets, and you know exactly what he's up to.
"Now, I'll make you feel really, really good, baby."
449 notes · View notes
wen-kexing-apologist · 2 months
Text
I am being so so sincere when I say that Episode 10 of The Miracle of Teddy Bear has just secured a spot as one of my favorite BL episodes of all time.
What a fucking compelling, complex, brilliant, and contained piece of work. I am really really loving the dimensionality they bring to Nut and the way that he engages in his relationship with Tofu and his mother in this show as a whole and in this episode especially. Seeing Mathana so calmly, sweetly, and sincerely inquiring about Tofu and Nut’s feeling towards one another, in a way that felt completely absent of judgment only to immediately be met by Nut’s anger was fucking phenominal! The Miracle of Teddy Bear has been handling trauma, and trauma response so brilliantly across the entire show, but Episode 10 was a stand out example of how the writing for this show and Job’s performance as Nut really add so much nuance and flavor to this story and this character. 
Tumblr media
I feel like so many BLs are hesitant to let their romantic leads harbor a lot of anger, but not The Miracle of Teddy Bear, Nut’s anger is explosive and it is fast. Nut can go from zero to one hundred in a blink of an eye, in a step, in a breath and that all stems from Nut’s history as a survivor of abuse. His father was extremely abusive, and incredibly homophobic, and his mother was a victim of that abuse as well and as a result was unable to protect Nut from all the shit his father put him through. And she was raised in a generation that was told there were rules and was never allowed to question them. She learned pink is for girls and blue is for boys and does not have any answer to a question of “but why?” nor does she have the space in the household with Sib to ask that question herself and realize there is no legitimate answer.
Tumblr media
I believe that Nut is fundamentally a good person, but I absolutely adored how much of this episode really navigated us through Nut being an absolute piece of shit to his mother, his friends and their family, and his partner as a result of his history as a survivor of abuse while also showing us this timid, terrified, simp of a high school boy having his first romance. Especially because for me it really highlights how much of this anger that Nut has stems directly from whatever events ended his relationship with Tarn. At no point in the flashback to a very short, and incredibly sweet BL within a BL have we seen Nut angry, he is only capable of fear that his family will find out that he is gay. It runs so counter to the hair trigger rage Nut carries with him in adulthood. When I saw the way Nut behaved at Gen’s house, I legitimately had a moment where I was just so incredibly thankful that Gen’s parents are as kind as they are and seem to constantly provide love and support to Nut even when he is being a terrible guest and misbehaving at the table because his anger runs so deep he does not have a handle on it. 
Tumblr media
From a writing and messaging perspective (I feel the need to clarify lest you think I support this kind of behavior in real live) I love, love, loved that Nut was using Tofu without Tofu’s permission and in many cases to the detriment of Tofu’s own comfort to the point where Tofu actually breaks in his own dedication to Nut and has to drag him outside to talk to him about generational trauma and the ways in which he is perpetuating cycles of abuse in his own household. Because that is a fundamental message of this show. Mathana and Saen are manipulated out of their relationship by Jan, Mathana feels pressure to get married because of her mother’s perceptions of the role of women in society, and as a result marries Sib who she doesn’t love, which contributes, I think, in part to Sib’s future abuse of his family because he knows his wife is in love with his brother and not him, with a major contributor to the Sib’s violence in the household being the perceptions of masculinity. 
Tumblr media
Side note: One of my absolute favorite recurring motifs in this episode was the use of bars to make everyone feel trapped in the flashbacks of abuse.
This episode shows us the ways in which Nut has internalized some of the beliefs of his father, when he tells Tofu essentially that his mother failed to steer him away from being gay, when that is obviously an impossible task, and so expertly lets the anger of this episode be fueled by those beliefs, the resentment and frustration that stems from Nut having to serve some level of caregiver role to his mother because of her mental health, and Nut’s current inability to see the bigger picture and understand that his mother was also a victim of domestic violence in that household who did not have the ability to stand up for herself and her child all at the same time. And it is also so easy to understand why Nut is not able to see his mother as a victim in every absolutely heartbreaking flashback we get to little baby Nut looking up at his mother while he is being abused just absolutely hoping that she will do something more than stand there and watch it happen.
Tumblr media
Nut is trying so desperately to get a reaction out of his mother, to prove that this anger that he has, that this pain that he carries from this piece of history we don’t even have the full story for yet is real, is justified, and that change and healing cannot happen. But it can. We haven’t even seen the events that lead to Nut’s break-up with Tarn yet and we’re already getting so much information about it from the way that Nut enters that coming out scene already fighting, already assuming his mother will have a problem, screaming at her and not giving her any opportunity to speak. And then getting mad at her when she doesn’t say anything about him being physically intimate with Tofu in front of her. Which I’ve already said was incredibly well written because Nut is so focused on his own anger it takes time for him to understand what he is doing to Tofu. 
Tumblr media
And even when he leaves, when he goes to Gen, when he hears the reason and the sense, and admits to the fact that he was in the wrong, that unjustified justified anger doesn’t go away magically, his behavior isn’t automatically fixed. He knows that he put Tofu in an uncomfortable position, and then continues to do it anyway because there is no one that can drive you to anger faster than a parent. And I for one am so grateful this show is letting Nut leave shrapnel in his wake. 
I am truly so impressed with this episode and with the entire show so far. If you did not jump on the Miracle of Teddy Bear train when @lurkingshan and @twig-tea were watching it a few weeks ago, please take this as a sign you should attempt it. I know it’s long, but GODDAMN IT IS SO FUCKING GOOD.
60 notes · View notes
aimasup · 5 months
Text
throws up my hands in mock resignation but also a hint of frustration Okay Valentino is a cool villain I guess
He's like. Genuinely unsettling. Wish the show struck a better balance with his character sometimes (like sometimes when he's onscreen I have to skip over because I feel queasy and sometimes he's so unsubtle he feels more like a prop than a guy who's going to be a Huge Deal in s2)
#why yes I have been reading some phenomenal fanfiction lately#a lesser me would be agonising over my inability to ever come close to matching the#masterfully characterised works of these talented WORD WEAVERS#but envy is a spoilt housepest and we must spend less time unleashing it upon new targets#instead let's talk about how these fics discovered its possible??#to write Val as not only a 3dimensional character but a deeply horrifying person to WITNESS#to depict how he thinks and what he wants and what he contributes to the people around him#while acknowledging that his actions are supremely messed up#also without dumbing whatever the fuck is wrong with him down to just 'can't do math and needs a sippycup'#those jokes are funny but he's also a dealmaker#he doesn't need to be studied under a microscope! he needs to be gawked at in abject horror! Oh the Potential!#he needs to tell us more about how depraved hell can be by linking us to a portion of the culture full of the dead who cannot die!#anyways. rant over. uh I think I like valentino now? in the same way I like the old man villain from hunchback of notre dame.#just. (gestures) what is this dude. ew. oh my god#my post#personal stuff#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel valentino#is this anything#again I am entrenching on dangerous territory of 'expectations for this media I consume'#he really doesn't need to be written all shakespearean-like#too attached mayhaps#delete later#honestly worried that if the show does reveal his backstory or whatever it'll try to paint him in a sympathetic light#and then the online arguments will be a headache for a month#villain with tragic backstory ≠ sympathetic villain
79 notes · View notes
poetryoutloud · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
December Nights - V.W.
102 notes · View notes
whiskey-tango-matcha · 7 months
Text
for me, nothing hits quite like someone who's sick but like...still in a good mood? like either ignoring it or admitting they're not well but still pleasant to be around. like they sneeze and someone asks if they're ok and they just roll their eyes and say "yeah i just have a stupid fuckin cold" 🫠😳👁️👄👁️🤩
71 notes · View notes
johnslittlespoon · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
ch1 of the leaving!bikeriders au done. fuck
43 notes · View notes
morrigan-sims · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Royal Horses
@morningstarequestrian's new Baroque Tack Set is absolutely perfect for tacking up the horses from my story save. (which I've been neglecting for the past year+) (Other pieces are from the Medieval Tack Set or the Medieval Round Bridle. The first outfits are from @objuct's Traditional Arabian Set, plus one of my recolors of that set.)
(also obligatory tagging @simgerale because Phillip pics.)
The first two outfits are something I could see being like, a parade outfit, at least for Alena. (Kristopher wouldn't be involved in any parades back in Oryn, I just wanted to test out all my cc.) Especially the version with the tassels isn't practical for just recreational riding, but it certainly looks nice for a parade, and does resemble parade-type outfits.
Alena's 2nd-3rd outfits and Phillip's 2nd-4th outfits are just more general-purpose riding. Two different saddles each and a few different saddle pads for Phillip.
Phillip's 5th outfit and Alena's 4th and 5th are potentially more of long-distance setups. Maybe like some kind of tour, where Fallon would be riding for long distances, but still want to look formal / be seen by people. (Again, not really something Kristopher and Phillip would have been doing, but it looked good on him and I wanted to test stuff out.) Alena has a second variation because technically white isn't one of Anvia's royal colors, but black is, so if it was a public event, she might tack in black. Especially as that would show less wear and dirt than the white for long travel.
The last pic is a blanket for Phillip because it gets cold in Oryn, especially in the winter and late fall/early spring. Alena doesn't really need a blanket most of the time, since Anvia's winters are much milder. (They don't often get snow, and when they do it's rarely more than an inch or two at a time.)
20 notes · View notes
chiwhorei · 2 months
Note
25 in life and writes incest get a life 😜
I actually just turned 26– sorry to mislead you. My pinned and bio are updated so you can yell at me properly.😌
24 notes · View notes
dairine-bonnet · 2 months
Text
On Dantooine, before Kotor 1:
Bastila *to Darth Revan, who's trapped in a force cage*: Behold a list of your sins! *holding out a datapad in front of Revan's eyes*
Darth Revan *speaking proudly, barely glanced at the list*: Actually, this looks like a list of my achievements!
23 notes · View notes
yume-fanfare · 4 months
Text
whatever im inspired tonight so doodle dump do not look at any of these too closely
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
24 notes · View notes
shopcat · 1 year
Text
On a Tuesday afternoon, Steve announces, with no drama at all, "I'm going to kill myself."
Dustin spins around to face him so cartoonishly fast that Steve kind of expects a Looney Tunes-style sound effect to follow. "What? Don't say that," he says, voice pitching up high like it gets. "Don't say that!"
Somewhere to their left from the tucked-in, cozy depth of the Henderson's new kitchen, Steve hears the echo of Lucas's laugh.
Lucas gets him.
Steve turns, hair flopping, and screws his face up at the world's saddest baby cow impressionist standing above him. He's lying on the floor of their carpeted lounge, lazing like a cat in a sunbeam. Man, Mews 2 has it all figured out, if you think about it.
He can't remember what the invitation was originally headlined as – like most days lately, they kind of just want to make excuses to hang around each other and cling on like little freaky leeches and the starring act tends to be whatever bullshit they manage to get up to in the meantime. It’s in that codependent way that he hopes is endearing, and a healthy coping mechanism of solidifying bonds and not, like, weird. Dustin was like, "come over, you graduated a Scoops alum, we can make sick sundaes!" but they've just been lying around (literally!) waiting for that little unreliable shit second-act Wheeler to turn up with the supplies he said he would totally have covered, totally!
"Sorry, bud," he says and laughs like ah, what can you do? "I know you see me as like a– like, some sort of an older sister slash, ah, father figure, and this will be hard for you–"
Dustin moves to kick him, going right for his softest bits. "Hey!" Steve yelps, jolting away instinctively, ending up rolling around on the carpet. "You're such a bully!"
"Dickhead!" Dustin argues, "You're a dickhead!"
He's really getting out of control. "Be nice to me!" Steve whines and presses his face into the scratchy rug he landed on. He can feel the vibrating scrape-scrape of Dustin's shoes tapping around his head. "You gotta be nice to me. This isn't how you should be responding to someone who's trying to open up, you know, mentally–"
"Mentally?" Dustin cries over him. "You'd need a goddamn brain!"
Steve cracks an eye open. "You're a little fucker," he says like it's a compliment. "You want me to come up there? That window is pretty close, you know. And you're a little guy," he pinches his fingers together with a little impish squint of his eye.
"Cliché! Gonna throw me out the window, you goon? Or what, is it assisted suicide now?" Dustin blusters and scoffs, but he shrieks when Steve hauls himself up using the window ledge. Steve gives him a look like hey, c'mon, because hey, c'mon, tells him, "That's just straight up murder, dude."
Dustin huffs, hands on his hips, and there’s a little phantom tap on Steve's shoulder pointing out his sudden similarity to Mrs Henderson, which: cute.
"Ah, look, I'm just messing around with ya," Steve apologises, hand settling on the ledge and leaning back. "It's not a big deal. I get job rejections all the time. Worse comes to worst... we can set up a lemonade stand or some shit. Or like, walk dogs." He swirls his wrist around nebulously.
"You don't like dogs," Dustin argues.
Steve grins. "I put up with Munson, don't I?"
Dustin gasps, then laughs, then gasps again like he can't believe he betrayed his little friend. Or like, his big friend. Whatever. "You have something dark and twisted in your mind," he tells Steve solemnly, and Steve cackles. "And you're a– a little B-word, because you don't want to look for jobs without Robin holding your hand. Ha! Or, actually, your," Dustin looks around conspiratorially at exactly no one, then mouths: "Dick!"
Steve stares at him. Huh. Well, ew. "B-word? You mean, like... bitch?" he whispers, mocking, then pulls up. "Also, ew."
"What do you mean ew?!" Dustin exclaims, throwing his arms up. "Dude! Robin's a totally rockin' babe! Also, yes, the frickin' B-word. I respect women now, man."
"Wh– now?" Steve laughs out, shaking his head. "Like you didn't before? Also, don't look at me like that! It's ew because I don't want you talking about that stuff! It's gross!" He makes a little eurgh gesture as he says it.
"Also, are you fifty? Who says rockin'?" he goes on, sneering a little on the edge of too meanly. "I can't be the only one seeing the irony here that you just totally disrespected a woman, like, just now. Like not even a second ago!"
Dustin pulls a face at him, 'cause Steve's the one being unreasonable. "Robin's not a woman, Steve. She's a beautiful creature-girl starving among the toxic, governmental backwash fuelled, boot-licking sheeple we call Americans. And she doesn't say the B-word either."
This kid. Also, not even true – he's pretty sure Robin was the one who kept writing "bitch boy" on his fifth-draft resumé under "life skills". That or like, the librarian Hopper hopped on is mean as hell in a super unexpectedly wounding and targeting way.
"Munson is teaching you bad words! Naughty, naughty fucking words!" Steve yelps, feeling weirdly like he’s being a grass or something. "What happened to being American heroes, huh?" The question, with a voice rasping like a drowned man, is directed to the slowly spinning ceiling fan.
Dustin grumbles something nasty that's definitely naughtier and definitely another tried and true Eddie-ism in the syllable count alone. Steve ignores him bravely, flopping down onto the couch and stirring up the same sort of warm perfumey smell Mrs Henderson favours. He slides down 'til he's comfy and crumpled up. Mews 2, who up until now was dozing on the knit-cover cushion, is in dire need of being scooped into his arms and held like a wittle baby.
"Anyway," Steve sighs. "Enough with the Robin stuff. There is no Robin stuff, I told you. It's just hard to find part-time hours right now, ever since, y'know."
"Y'know," Dustin repeats solemnly, nodding. He rocks back and forth on his heels, making the red afternoon sunbeam coming through the window shift and flick across the room. Steve shoves his face into the cat's fat little belly, sighing through fur and domestic cushion smell.
"Maybe I can sling ice cream again," he suggests, muffled, "It's not that hard. Actually, it's not hard at all." He lifts his head, scrunching his nose up. "And I probably don't have to wear a dumb little outfit at, like, Dairy Queen."
In the kitchen, Lucas drops something that skitters around in a way that can’t be good for the new French tile. He doesn't know what they're cooking in there, exactly, but through hearing Lucas knocking about like he's tripping on dustbunnies (like his Grandpa Otis would say, 'cause old people are always just inventing crazy shit to say) he can deduce it's something messy and/or gnarly. He also knows Max is nursing some sort of herbal tea because of the five-minute argument over, like, the amount of sugar she takes he listened to unashamedly before. Totally not the dramatic teen drama sesh he thought it’d be when he initially tuned in, though.
The drawers have ceased crashing open and shut in that grating, teenaged way – ambient noise for the single mothers and Adderall-soaked babysitters of the world – so he assumes whatever culinary delight it is is wrapping up.
He thinks to himself, with a fond little tug at his dumb bleeding heart, that Lucas has known how Max likes her fancy Californian tea for years now. He’s just like, like that.
In his peripheral, Dustin beams and crashes down next to him – hey – and tells him: "I loved your little outfit. Everyone loved your little outfit. The little outfit made the job. It was... cute! And, you were totally kickass and beat the shit out of a Soviet guard in that outfit!"
"Yeah," Steve suffers out. "It was pretty awesome. But I think I got zero play for a reason. And I'm all game!"
That uniform rode up like crazy, too, and not even in the kind of like, coy and coquettishly sexy way that he’d like to believe he could pull off if given the chance. He always felt like one, too-quick popping of a squat to grab another weird sticky bag of caramel topping from the storage closet would split the seam hole to pole. (Hole to hole?). Plus, according to the magazine he read forty minutes ago on the floor of Robin’s bedroom, that shade of blue so didn’t go with his skin tone. He’s an Autumn.
"Well, you'd have to wear a dumb hat again at DQ," Dustin points out, because he hates him. "And, gross. Don't gross me then– then gross yourself."
Steve carefully flattens Mews 2's ears down with his palms, then exclaims, "That hat!" He groans. "Gag me with a spoon, I think I really would kill myself if anyone saw me in that thing again. All I was missing is a fruity little lollipop."
He sees Dustin's eyebrows rise and the way he repeats fruity to himself quietly. "You are getting way more homophobic lately, Steve. And you're a misogynist," he declares, all puffed up.
What!
"What!" Steve splutters. "I'm not misogynist! I love women. And girls. All women, and girls, and ladies a-and moms. I love your mom! Okay– sorry. I got flustered."
He rubs the bridge of his nose with pinched fingers. "Also, I meant, like, fruity like strawberries and cream, not, like, a strawberry with, y'know... cream," He adds coyly with a little eyebrow wiggle.
Dustin sits there for a moment, then goes a little red and starts laughing, which makes Steve feel, like, nice. It's always a little thrilling when he can actually get any of these kids to laugh, for some reason.
"Shut up! This is what I'm talking about!" Dustin complains.
Steve turns his head, hiding the slip of his smile in the couch he's pillowed into. "I'm not homophobic, man," he tells him, trying to really show he's earnest through tone alone. Honestly, the very la-a-st thing he needs is Henderson actually believing this in one way or another, if not for his own lavender coated, closeted well-being then for the integrity of their weird little friendship. "You know that. If you ever catch me being actually homophobic you're allowed to fucking, I dunno, just kill me dead. Outsource it to Nancy or something. Or, hey, Mike!" he says, bringing his head up with his aha! moment accompanied by a click of his fingers.
"Mike?" Dustin repeats, acting out one of his exaggerated jeez, this fucking guy! routines, flapping his arms around like crazy. "First of all, if I was outsourcing your murder – which I can't buh-lieve this conversation has come back to, by the way – Mike would be last on my list."
Well that’s a little mean, maybe. Steve looks him up and down and decides to really ham up his disbelief. He clutches Mews to his chest all dramatic, like a fuzzy pearl necklace. "Why? Because you wanna murk me yourself? You're sick, dude!" he says.
"No!" Dustin shoves him, and Steve repeats, "si-i-ick!" until he shoves him again.
"I could never assassinate you, Steve. We're brothers in arms. You'd have to, like, be really evil. And even then, it'd have to be really evil stuff. No, I've thought about this," – and he ignores Steve, going up three octaves, You've thought about this?! – "You're forgetting we actually know a superpowered death weapon who can explode your mind into goo in like, uh, a nanosecond. But, well, El likes you too much…" He clicks his tongue like, darn.
This is kind of news to Steve. He's always gotten the impression that El, while cute as a button and much like some sort of fucked up amalgamation of this adorable, curly-headed baby deer and velociraptor, didn't think of him in any sort of particular way. But maybe he's always been too busy feeling that weird mix of genuine fear and genuine aw whenever he's around her to really focus on like, the dynamics.
Dustin is saying, "I don't know if Robin would do it, but she probably knows you the best so she'd be able to figure out the perfect way. And she'd be really nice about it, too, because of your big, freaky bond. But that wouldn't stop her," he book-ends, nodding sadly.
"It wouldn't," Steve says with a sappy smile. He loves her, not that he'd ever admit that outside of his like, car. She'd probably lace his favourite drink with something, then freak out that he wouldn't feel like peach-flavoured iced tea that day, and end up lacing his whole fridge. Then it wouldn't even be poison, it'd just be like, sleeping pills, and she'd just put a pillow over his head. Slit his throat with a freshly plucked thorn from a rose, or something. Or, maybe she'd just go super-crazy-murder and cut him up like the fancy cheese her mom likes.
"Mike could snag a piece from Nance's stash," Steve suggests, to attempt to derail where he knows this is going, and because he kind of believes this, really. The ka-chik finger gun gesture he does stops Dustin from talking about whatever he was saying about Max throwing his body in the quarry "like, for the irony" just to shriek until his voice cracked.
"Why are you so caught up on Mike?" Dustin slaps his hands down. "Mike would shit his pants!"
"He's got hidden depths," Steve protests, feeling weirdly protective now. It's not Mike's fault he's sixteen or whatever. Plus, he's got a shit dad, too. Steve likes Mike. "He's loyal," he nods, like he's convincing himself now, gesturing with a closed fist, thumb folded like a politician would. "If someone needed to take me out, he wouldn't want anyone else to get blood on their hands. He thinks about that stuff!"
Dustin's got his face smooshed in his hands, but he's sunk down into the couch alongside him by now, pressed against his side. Steve's warm at every angle, sandwiched between a boy and his cat. "He wouldn't do it. He's squeamish. He'd only do something like that for, well, Will, probably?" And that's a little interesting. "No, no, Mike wouldn't do it. But Eddie would."
"Munson?" Steve gapes. "No way, man! It took two months to clear his name for a murder he didn't even do! And that was with grodie government guy help, too!"
Dustin waves him off. "No, listen. Listen! The aftermath isn't in play here, okay? Eddie would kill you so-o-o good, no questions asked. He's got the means, he'd have the motive, he's bigger than you–"
"Oh, get real, you know that's a lie!"
"– he's scrappy, and! He'd like it." Dustin finishes, leaning in and slapping it down like a period on a sentence, and something fizzy oozes around Steve's insides, and, uh. Suddenly he remembers the way, last Fall, that a shattered beer bottle was held to his neck instead of "hello," and now he’s a little on edge, he thinks. Is it being on edge when you’re like flushed and squirmy? And scared? But like, nervous-scared? Like, why does the thought of Eddie not liking him make him want to throw his guts up?
Steve clears his throat. (Is it like butterflies? Or something?) "Okay, you're crazy," he says. "Are you saying Munson hates me, now? Or is this some sort of, like, my dad can fight your dad thing?”
Dustin flushes and says no emphatically, but Steve doesn't fully believe him. "I'm not saying he hates you. I'm just saying he's your best bet. And that he'd think it was super punk rock. It's like, y'know, cemeteries. He'd turn your skull into a bowl or something."
"What do you mean it's like cemeteries?! Also, that's not even punk, it's like, goth," Steve corrects, a little too quick to not be suspicious, but barely thinking about it all the same. "Plus, you're saying he doesn't hate me, but now you're actually making me feel worse about it. Munson doesn't hate me! He likes me!" Steve's eyes widen, a little comically, and now his heart picks up oddly, and he looks into Dustin's eyes like the man starved for validation he is. "Wait, Dusty. Eddie likes me, right? Right?"
Dustin's smile turns strained and ends kind of serial-killery, which fits the conversation but doesn't pan out well for Steve, predictably. "Um," he starts, slowly, and carefully says, "Okay, you seem to be freaking out. Don't freak out."
"What do you mean, don't freak out!" Steve picks at it, feeling totally justified here – he's been hysterical before, he feels pretty entitled to screaming and crying in response to the occasional state of the world that seems to try to eat him as the worst bi-annual event ever, and he feels this is almost tantamount to that. Almost. And he’s nervous! "You just told me Eddie Munson actually wants to knife me!"
"That's not what I said," Dustin protests quickly, placing a hand on his shoulder, soothing, and tells him, all smiles, "I said he'd be happy if he had to."
"I thought we were friends!" Steve whines. "I gave him an apple last week and he said thank you, that's significant! It's friends! We're totally friends!"
Dustin says, "Steve, Eddie's allergic to apples," in that obnoxious tone of his, and the last of Steve's sanity is smothered in its sleep.
148 notes · View notes
toasteaa · 14 days
Text
I don't know what's been going on with me recently but like...there's this tiny shred of guilt that I'm not doing anything really engaging on here anymore? Like, my creative block is fading out (finally), but I haven't drawn or written anything substantial recently and I feel really weird about that. Not just for you all looking at my blog, but also just in a creative bust kind of way.
There are ideas and themes and such that I would love to play with or dabble in, but I keep stopping them because they're either too self indulgent or there's no visual work to go with it. I don't really know how to describe it? Like I feel like I've been lazy creatively speaking recently when I COULD be getting more ideas out, but it's about the same ship all the time and idk, I also feel like I've gotten to the point where I'm talking too much again? Not that anyone here has made me feel like that and I have asks that I need to answer so I KNOW I'm not talking too much but I'm!!!! Being splashed with the self conscious and self critical and imposter syndrome buckets and I need them to stop!!!!
#toast talks#Not necessarily meant to be a vent so I'm not putting it in my vent tag but!#The save to draft button has become my best friend LOL#Idk it's just that weird feeling that settles in whenever I realize that I haven't actually finished anything and then whenever#I'm asked about eclairette specifically I always have the hardest time answering some questions!#And it's like...I know their story? But I also don't? Because it's just in fragments all over my brain that change sometimes?#And then I get sucked into aus because I love the ideas of aus and seeing characters in different situations#but then I worry that maybe I'm not presenting the characters well enough? Or maybe I'm getting too self indulgent in everything I do?#WHICH ISN'T BAD AT ALL I JUST. My brain. It does things and makes me overthink the most basic enjoyments I have.#And part of me feels like this would be solved if I had more ships but like...idk. I do/did have other ships but eclairette just.#They feel right to me. They're like...a comfort ship now? Idk. Their story is fun and enjoyable to me and even their noncanon lore is#fun for me to run through my head on end.#Hmmm. I think my brain has just been in a weird spot recently and it's because creative juices are pumping but I have not done a creative#in...three months?#Good lird I need to at least doodle them again -#btw still not a vent! Just sorting my brain out and trying to see what it's got going on and what it wants cause??? Get it together girl#We've got lore to make. Canon and otherwise.#If you got this far I love you. If you didn't get this far I love you. I need those blue bitches to do SOMETHING soon.#''they should do each other'' true and correct. But that will have to wait. We gotta get lore written down first!
12 notes · View notes