#the present tense hates me

[adarkermiserablecrow]

You don't realise how deeply ingrained classes on when and how to use verb tenses in english are, until you're trying to write a story in the present tense when your default is past

[rodolfoparras]

Thinking about all the ways you can be intimate with Price that doesn’t involve having sex

One thing about Price is that he’s known for his love for hats. But very few people know the reason as to why he wears them in the first place.

Truth be told, more often than not, he will let his hair grow past the length that’s stated in haircut regulations. Curls will start forming at the back of his neck , unruly strands will stick to his temple as he sweats and if it’s a particularly windy day, wisps of hair will fall into his eyes and obscure his vision. So to cover up the fact that he’s clearly breaking regulations and to keep his hair in check, he’ll wear a hat on his head.

He always tells himself he’ll cut it short. Hell, he even goes out his way to take down the box of clippers from the shelf where they’ve been collecting dust for God knows how long. But every time he intends to cut it something comes up and he opts for wearing a hat instead.

However this time around, it’s a different story since inspection week is coming up and you’re the first to notice how long his hair has been getting lately.

As you lean in for a kiss, you feel the unruly strands of hair wrap around your fingers tips. You smile as you twirl them in your grasp, lips still kissing Price’s.

He pulls away, mirroring the smile on your face as he says “what are you smiling about?”

“Your hair’s been getting so long lately” you say as you run a hand through his hair, tugging lightly at the long strands as if to empathize your point.

His brows furrow, before a look of realization crosses his face “I guess it has, hasn’t it? I’ve been meaning to cut it, just haven’t gotten around to doing it,”

You nod as you continue to play with the hair at the back of his head, already aware of the box of clippers that’s been collecting dust on his desk “when’s inspection now again?”

“Next week. Cut it for me?”

The bathroom connected to his room is rather small, barely fits two people but you make it work as you sit down on the toilet seat while he sits down on the floor.

He sits so close you get a whiff of his cologne. The scent’s a familiar one, one you know not only by smell but also by name. It’s a cologne you’d spontaneously bought one day and had managed to use once or twice before it somehow ended up in Price’s hands. Now it’s a scent solely associated with him.

You can also smell the cigars he smokes. The scent is sickly sweet but also earthy- reminds you of mahogany much like the mahogany curls he's sporting at the moment.

You gently grab onto his shoulder, forcing him to shuffle closer. He’s now perfectly slotted between your legs, as you go to inspect his hair.

“Any special request ?” You ask as you card your fingers through his hair, carefully inspecting the length. The man lets out an appreciative sound at your gently touch before he shakes his head in response to your question.

“Just want it short?” You ask again, fingers still carding through his hair.

“Yes, please”

“What if I mess up ?” You joke as you continue to inspect the length.

“Don’t really care, I’ll wear a hat either way” he shrugs, and flashes you a smile over his shoulder.

“Alright” you say, before you reach down and gently grab onto the edge of his shirt “May I?” You ask, lips brushing his ear as you lean down to ask for permission.

He shivers at your touch, but nods his head at your question.

You gently pull the shirt off of him, leaving him in just the undershirt that he’s wearing. The sudden exposure to the chilly bathroom air has goosebumps raising on his skin and your hands quickly find his arms as you attempt to warm him up.

“Sorry” you say as you plant a kiss on his shoulder. He just smiles and shakes his head “it’s okay, not your fault yeah?”

You grab onto the box where his clippers lay and take out the one you needed for his hair. You quickly adjust the settings on it before bringing it to his head.

As you turn on the machine you feel the familiar buzz coursing through your fingertips. You try not to let your nerves get the best of you as you get ready to cut his hair for him. However, sweat still trickles down your spine, the clippers almost fall out of your hand and you have to take a deep breath and apologize beforehand in case this doesn’t go as planned.

You do the first swipe with the clipper and watch as strands of hair fall to his bare shoulders. You quickly take the brush that came with the kit and gently brush the hair away from his skin. He hums in content as he relaxes into your embrace

“Good?”

He nods with a giggle “tickles”

You chuckle at that as you continue to cut his hair, tufts of it steadily falling to the floor and sprinkling across his shoulder. You even see the loose strands of hair sprinkling onto the undershirt that he’s wearing. However Price doesn’t seem to mind it, seemingly relaxed as ever.

Nothing can be heard except for the steady buzz coming from the machine, along with the soft noises Price will give in response when you ask him something. He’s long given up on talking, mind and body too relaxed to bother with it.

Your hands are gentle as ever as they grab onto his chin, cheeks and temples, turning his head in whichever direction is needed at the moment. His eyes, although closed, flutter at the touch, as he chuckles at the ticklish feeling that comes from your hands.

However you still check up on him to make sure that you aren’t hurting him.

“Am I hurting you?” You ask as you bring the clipper a bit closer to his ears. “Is this okay” You ask again when you fear you’re holding too tightly onto him. You even drop a “you tell me if I’m doing anything to hurt you yeah?” when you notice the flush on his skin.

Sometimes Price responds with a hum, sometimes with a nod and sometimes with the shake of his head (You almost have the mind to scold him for his careless movements but you allow him to do so anyway)He even chuckles at the last sentence as if saying not you, never you and that’s all the reassurance you need to continue cutting his hair for him.

At some point he does talk - asks if he can go for a smoke and of course you allow him to do so. If you smoke he’ll let you take a couple of puffs of his cigar. However he’ll use this as an excuse to steal a kiss since every time you lean in to put the cigar between your lips, he’ll place a kiss on your lips. If you don’t smoke he’ll have you light his cigar for him. He’ll playfully pulls you closer by your wrist, as you go to light his cigar for him, callused thumb mindlessly stroking it while you light it for him.

He stays in your embrace while smoking his cigar, enjoying your presence and your gentle touch.

From the bathroom window you can see that the sun is starting to set and the clouds of smoke that whirl around in the air become more prominent.

Price hooks his arm around your leg and mindlessly drags his hand along your thigh while he smokes his cigar.

“Thank you for doing this for me, love” he says and despite the clouds of smoke that swirl around in the air, you can still see the grateful smile on his face.

“No need to thank me ” you chuckle as you continue to cut his hair for him.

Once it’s done, you hand him a small mirror so that he can take a look at his hair. He takes a brief look in the mirror before he turns to you with a big smile on his face.

“It looks great,”

Truth be told he barely looked at his hair, didn’t see the crooked line or the uneven patches around his head (not that he would mind if he were to notice it anyway). All he saw in that very moment was your reflection in the mirror, the way you nervously chewed your lip, and the hopeful look in your eyes as you waited for him to comment on his new haircut.

Once it’s inspection day you’re back in that very same bathroom with him. He’s looking at himself in the mirror while you’re standing behind him with a comb in hand. His hair is still short and will surely pass inspection but you still want to comb and style it for him, claiming he needs to look professional and well groomed, seeing as he’s the captain.

“There, all done” you say with a smile on your face, finally feeling satisfied with the look of his hair. All of sudden he turns around, hands gently grabbing onto your hips before he pulls you closer to him. You’re still looking at his hair, searching for any imperfections that need to be corrected while he’s watching you with an adoring gaze. Once you spot a strand out of place, you lick the pad of your thumb before gently slicking it back with the rest of his hair.

You go to pull your hand away but before you can do so he gently wraps his hand around your wrist and brings your hand closer to his lips before he kisses it.

“Thank you again, love”

[torchstelechos]

Man, I hope Siffrin gets a good therapist after this is all over. Also Loop, but I think Loop would prefer self help books over a therapist despite the fact that Loop would probably monologue about their issues to the nearest schmuck available that is not part of their friend/family/stranger group

[francesderwent]

but you should’ve seen him when he first got me…

dive bar on the east side, where you at? phone lights up my nightstand in the black. come here you can meet me in the back —> wait for the signal and I’ll meet you after dark, show me the places that the others gave you scars

I’m perfectly fine, I live on my own, I made up my mind I’m better off being alone. we met a few weeks ago, now you try on calling me ‘baby’ like trying on clothes —> oh, I’m falling in love, I thought the plane was going down. how’d you turn it right around?

I got a boyfriend, he’s older than us, he’s in the club doing I don’t know what. you’re so cool, it makes me hate you so much. whiskey on ice, sunset and vine, you’ve ruined my life by not being mine —> maybe I’ll see you out some weekend depending on what kind of mood and situationship I’m in and what’s in my system. I think there’s been a glitch.

our secret moments in a crowded room, they got no idea about me and you —> romance is not dead if you keep it just yours

and I snuck in through the garden gate every night that summer just to seal my fate —> head on the pillow, I could feel you sneaking in, as if you were a mythical thing, like you were a trophy or a champion ring and there was one prize I'd cheat to win

I scream, “for whatever it’s worth, I love you ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?” he looks up grinning like the devil —> the first night that you saw me, nothing was gonna stop me, I laid the groundwork and then saw a wide smirk on your face: you knew the entire time! you knew that I’m a mastermind, and now you’re mine. yeah, all you did was smile.

back when we were card sharks playing games, I thought you were leading me on. I packed my bags, left Cornelia Street before you even knew I was gone. then you called, showed your hand, turned around before I hit the tunnel —> got a sense I’d been betrayed, your finger on my hairpin trigger. soldier down on that icy ground looked up at me with honor and truth, broken and blue, so I called off the troops. that was the night I nearly lost you

and he’s passing by rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky —> one night a few moons ago I saw flecks of what could have been lights but it might just have been you passing by unbeknownst to me

[phoenixcatch7]

The thing I like about my writing is that I never write a story the same way twice. Everything I write demands a different flow.

For example, of the two stories I'm writing now, one wanted present tense (which I am, it turns out, terrible at) and lots of Internet slang/grammar, and the other one decided it had to be made of very short snippets, with one or two longer scenes forming naturally and lots of run on sentences. Both of them I originally tried in my 'more typical' style and both times it failed miserably to click until I scrapped it entirely and restarted.

Ironically enough, the present tense one I'd been intending to write in more episodic bursts, and the snippets one is the start of a long and twisting story delving into deeper themes than I ever have before. But that's the way they wanted to be written! It's more thinking on my behalf than I might have wanted (I am truly fighting my instinct for past tense), but in return I'm finding a rhythm and pattern that's working so well!

I guess the morale of the story is that if you've just started a story or art piece or whatever but it's just not working out, try approaching it from an unusual angle, something you haven't tried before. Something about it isn't clicking, so try a new method entirely!

But most importantly, have a folder somewhere you can move all the little bits and pieces you made but had to take out. It's old advice, but the problem is usually further back than you think. Doesn't mean you have to lose your progress.

[zhimaqiu]

Snow muffles everything. It's early morning, Miri still sleeps soundly in her room, neatly tugged in a thick blanket. Her mouth probably opened wide, a trickle of saliva going down her cheek. Even with a window ajar in the living room, no sound comes from the outside. Everything's quiet except for hissing of a pan in the kitchen.

Rei tries to flip a French toast with one hand, the other still hangs lifeless at his right side. He curses under his nose when another attempt ends with a splash messing up his hoodie and the countertop around him. Kazuki looks at him, his eyes wide and innocent, from his breakfast work.

"Need help?" But no response follows. He puts down the knife he's using. "Come on, it won't harm your pride if you say it. Here, let me."

He walks over, stops close to Rei, just behind him, and gives his assist with his right hand and a fork he found on the side. He counts to three and then they flip the toast together. The mixture bubbles a bit, so Kazuki's hand immediately lands on the cork to lower the heat.

"There you go." His words come out gentle, in a similar tone in which he soothes Miri when she's got a nightmare. They sound just next to Rei's right ear as he focuses his gaze on the pan. He continues while doing that: "Nothing scary, right? It's not like it's impossible to do it with one hand, but some toasts are stubborn. You'll get it."

He stays close for a couple more seconds, but reflects himself and walks away, leaving Rei starring blankly at the spot where just a moment ago he saw a red sleeve substituting the arm he had sacrificed. His heart feels softer, like if it was dipped in a sweet coating, but beats so terribly fast he has to take in a sharper breath.

"Thanks," he murmurs as his features melt in the fond feeling that appeared in his chest, not for the first time.

He thinks back to the conversation with his father, when he brought up all the little things that made him fall in love with his newfound family. He also remembers holding Kazuki up in the kitchen back then, their blood mixing as they supported each other.

I knew my partner would come to save me. And he did.

Yes, if something was on, he knew his partner will indeed come to save him. Even if it's just flipping a toast.

[wolfawaycamp]

Jacob&Kaitlyn being besties and supporting each others bad decisions pre-bonfire/werewolf night

They’re both lying spread eagle on the deck outside the boathouse, faces turned up toward the crescent moon gleaming high above them. It’s only the sixth night of camp — only the fifth with campers actually present — and yet the daytime heat of June has already reached levels beyond oppressive, leaving everyone worn out and crabby by the end of the evenings. Kaitlyn and Jacob were tasked with sorting through all of the lifejackets in the camp’s inventory, double and triple checking that everything was functioning correctly before the kids were allowed their first bit of free time on the lake the following morning.

Technically speaking, they’re done; they’d been done for a good twenty minutes now, in truth. But the gentle splashing of the water beneath the dock lapping against the shoreline is rhythmic and lullaby-esque, and the sun has been gone long enough for the miserable heat to have faded, but the deck boards have retained just enough warmth to feel comfortable at their backs.

And so, they remain side by side sprawled on the faded old wooden planks. It’s the most peaceful and relaxed Kaitlyn can remember feeling in a number of months; since high school graduation, probably. So of course Jake had to go and fucking ruin it.

“I asked Emma out,” the boy said; he’s relaxed on his back just like she is, so his voice is a low mumble that takes her a few seconds to process.

As soon as they register, Kaitlyn groans.

“The blonde chick?” she asks begrudgingly.

She already knows this isn’t going to end well; she’s known Jacob their entire lives and the boy’s a bleeding heart with no sense of caution whatsoever, and she’s long-since grown weary of comforting him after extremely predictable heartbreaks.

“The blonde chick,” Jacob mocks in an utterly silly voice. “We’ve all been here for a week and you’re not stupid, Kaity. Don’t act like you don’t know her name!”

“Ugh, fine,” the girl concedes, disgusted. “What the hell does out even mean here? You can’t leave and there’s nothing to do outside of the normal camp activities! With little kids everywhere!”

“Hey, language! I don’t wanna get stuck with bathroom cleaning duty, dude!”

“Oh fuck off,” she snorts. “There’s literally no kids around—”

“That you know of!”

“If there’s a kid out here by the docks at 9pm when they’re all supposed to be inside the lodge watching a movie right now, they’d be in bigger trouble for that than we would be for swearing,” Kaitlyn challenges. “Anyway, as I was saying… what the fuck are you even gonna do for a date, Jacob?”

“I dunno,” he shrugs, then wiggles his eyebrows with a positively shiteating grin that Kaitlyn can somehow perfectly sense despite not facing him directly. “I mean I guess there’s always skinnydipping, eyyy?”

She swings wildly, managing to connect and solidly smack his shoulder despite the way he rolls, laughing, in an attempt to dodge the strike.

“Ugh, and you had the audacity to scold me for swearing right before suggesting that…”

They’re both quiet for a moment while the laughter fades away.

“She said yes but just as a summer thing y’know? No strings after camp—”

“Jake.”

“I really like her though—”

“Jake.”

“Whaaaat?” he whines.

“This is a terrible idea and I want that noted on the record,” Kaitlyn declares. “You’re gonna be crying at the end of camp, mark my words.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever… you know, you miss one hundred percent of the shots you don’t ta—”

The boy cuts off with a grunt and a bark of laughter as she swats wildly at him again, connecting with his chest with a solid thwack.

“Ugh, I hate you,” Kaitlyn groans, as if it’s not completely negated by the grin on her face.

Then she sighs.

“Gimme your slice of pie at dinner tomorrow night and I’ll cover for you while you two are out of your cabins,” she promises, resigned.

“Oh hell yeah, done! Thanks. You’re the best, Kaity!”

“Yeah and don’t you fucking forget it.”

🐦‍⬛

[chirpybirdy]

eugene sledge agrees to be turned into a werewolf so he can fight in ww2

technically sledgefu fic because duh they are adorable

------

It's just as meaningless as it had been when he was declared 4F but changeable. "You're changeable, son. The bite hurts, sure. Any bite would." That bite had hurt, and lasted what seemed like ages. Eugene had gripped the edge of the counter. Determined not to move and he had managed not to move. A woman had bit him. To be quite honest they hadn't needed to assure him that the mask and the pill would prevent her from claiming him. Nice, but unnecessary. It took the first time, so he didn’t have to go through it again. He got the next part done in one try, too.

The boat over had sucked. He couldn’t tell you how many unmated werewolves there were on the damn boat. None of them could, it was unbearable. All of them ready to fight, all of them outnumbered, all of them promised not a pack but one single man. Some guys muttered about biting a nurse and no one took kindly to that. Some guys contemplated biting a sailor, but that was asking for a cage.

Eugene found it easy to listen and let the pity and the self-pity wash over him. His heart murmur was gone. He was decent in hand-to-hand. He would die using his unreal senses to save the life of a man still human.

They are let off on Pavuvu. Told to stay put, but not ordered. Their first order is to claim—and that is a science without exactitude. They enter the camp like two hundred stray dogs freed from the pound at once. They see no difference in the cage or the tents. It is only new scents, and new scents after too long with no new scents. Eugene finds sudden comfort in the men around him. He sticks with them, the crowd of two hundred slimming down at first down to fifty, then to twenty, then to five, and then to three. Roaming in vague directions with more interest in food than anything.

Eugene won’t remember taking control of their direction.

Eugene yanks upwards and Snafu snaps his legs around his hips and Eugene is pissed Snafu thinks he would ever fall.

Pissed as he is, Eugene’s corporal is the one who snarls. "Nobody forced you, Sledgehammer!"

"Yeah?" Eugene grabs his ass. Feels the rough and torn cloth shred under the gentle lacerations of his nails. He will have to get him a new pair. "I fell anyway, didn’t I, Snafu!?"

Dragged back to awareness of the tent he had chosen, Eugene shook his head to clear it—felt like he’d just been given some information that changed everything. His head struggled to accommodate two versions of a man. Two versions, both under his hands. Alright, fine.

He announces to no one, “him.” Eugene had refrained from acting like an animal but it was a matter of time, they had all supposed. He walks in a line so straight a crow would envy it and meets his soldier. Outranks him but they all do. Smells like dead werewolf but they all do. “Hey.“

His corporal, still a lieutenant, smirks, “Hey. Ready to die for me, milk teeth?”

Eugene’s nostrils flare, “As I’ll ever be, I suppose.”

“That right?”

Some wolves get right to it, Eugene learns, and some feel the need to take things somewhere private. It doesn’t mean much to them after the bite; however, the bitten tend to remember and tell the story. In the same way Eugene remembers holding the counter, and the gum that had been stuck under there, Snafu remembers what Eugene did when he claimed him.

Eugene had assumed, when it came down to it, it was meaningless.

[menlove]

present tense my enemy

[starfallproject]

Tekken character vignette pt. 1

Characters: Kazumi, Kazuya.

Word count: 165.

Kazuya is asleep when Kazumi slips into his room in the middle of the night. Her child looks peaceful in sleep.

Kazumi kisses his forehead. She looks fondly at her son, tracing her fingertips on his face, her own bearing a brittle smile. Her fever spikes prevented her from seeing her little angel for the past few days.

As she goes to the door to make her leave, a quiet rustle stops her.

“Mom?” the question comes out uncertain, she looks back to see Kazuya sitting up, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Go back to sleep, dear. You need it for the morning training,” she hears herself say. Kazuya looks confused but nods drowsily, and lays back in his futon.

Her hands shake as she closes the shoji door, knowing that if she gives in to her desire to go back and gather him in her arms, she would waver.

Her fists tighten, she has a mission to complete. It was a long time coming.

[rizaposting]

Rating: T Words: 3,049 Relationship: Royai, Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang Tags: Canon: Fullmetal Alchemist 2003, Songfic, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Falling in love, Unhealthy coping mechanisms, Non-explicit mentions of sex, Depictions of mental illness

Summary: "The first time she sets to changing the bandages on his face, Roy stops her with a hand on her wrist. His hair had hung over his face as he turned away from her and warned her that it was ugly. The raw flesh and the clipped bone. Riza doesn't know how to express to him that she doesn’t care about the physical damage, that she is just so happy that he is alive that it makes her hands tremble. In the end, she brushes his hair to the side and meets his gaze without flinching as the gauze falls away."

After the coup against Bradley, something blooms between them during Roy's recovery. But there is only so much that love can heal.

(Inspired by the song "Antebellum" by Vienna Teng)

[pherryt]

Angsty One Piece Zoro/Sanji Snippet

Law bursting in on Zoro and Sanji who haven't moved, showered or eaten in days. "This is unhealthy behavior, and you have to cut it out."

They stare at him blankly until one of them whispers – he thinks it was Sanji - "Why should we care?"

Law grits his teeth and instructs himself towards patience. They've been through a lot, after all. "Because you're hurting yourselves worse like this. You could even die."

It was Zoro who spoke this time, his voice so dead it makes Law shiver. "So?"

Law, desperate, blurts, "Maybe even someone else."

Their breaths catch and both of them still. Law smiles triumphantly. It was a dirty trick, but if it brings them to their senses…

Law's victory burst when Zoro says finally, "So? You can fix us."

Law splutters. "What?!!

Sanji nods, limp hair hiding his face. "Yeah, you healed our bodies. Can't you just do the same with our minds?" There is a note of pleading in that voice and it hurts to hear.

Law closes his eyes and feels himself twitch. "I'm not that kind of doctor! I'm not even remotely qualified to be fucking with your brains!"

Brain surgery was something completely different, he thinks.

Sanji shrugs, moving Zoro with him. "Well. It's not like you can possibly make things worse."

Law's horrified screech rings through the Polar Tang, echoing off walls and hitting the ears of the crew.

Penguin looks up as Shachi winces. "Sounds like the Straw Hat therapy session is going well."

Bepo cocks his head thoughtfully. "Is captain even qualified for that?"

- Notes: This snippet inspired by @gaypiratehell‘s All Dead Au / Everyone Dies but Zosan Au from Twitter

[thefandomcassandra]

Me: capable of doing difficult math puzzles in one attempt, doesn't even use the hint for a light toggle puzzle, calls several plot points during my first playthrough

Also me: cannot do slide puzzles

[doodles-dearest]

made this for my bf for valentines idk if hes read it yet but i hope whoever sees this does ((late) update: he did!! xe loves it!! im a happy boyo now with validation <3)

Steve just made the biggest mistake of his life.

Worse than giving up his carefree life to become a people pleasing king of highschool.

Worse than going to apologise to Nancy back in '83, only to get dragged into all that Upside Down bullshit.

Worse than everything he ever did.

He let his chance with Eddie Munson go, and now he's sitting in the rain, wishing he wasn't a coward.

———

Valentine's Day. A day of love, of cheesy cards, and the worst day of the year for Steve Harrington.

Every year in the past he told himself it'd be different, he'd have the perfect Valentine's Day; but of course that never happened. The last good one he can remember was so long ago, he was about nine or so, and a boy (girl? Person? It was so long ago and Steve's memory was so bad nowadays that he wasn't sure) had rushed up to him and shoved a heart shaped card into his chest before running away. The card was clearly homemade, obnoxious hearts everywhere, covered in glue. It was made with love though, love that not many people had ever shown him since. Now it sat tucked in the back of Steve's closet, along with his sexuality.

This year, he was giving up. He was going to treat it like any other day, to the best of his abilities. Which was difficult, considering everyone else around him seemed to have a valentine. Robin was busy with Nancy, so hanging out with either of them was out. The kids all had their various valentines– Steve tends not to get into their love lives, the complex web that it is. Argyle and Jonathan were getting high together, which Steve reckoned was their version of a date. There was Eddie, but with a face like his and a wit like that, he was most likely snuggling up to someone too. It was strange, Steve hated picturing Eddie with someone more than he did picturing the others. The idea of Eddie wrapping an arm around a girl's shoulder, offering them his jacket, glancing at their lips, sent a dark, hostile feeling creeping through Steve's chest. He tried to ignore the thought.

So, Steve just decided that once his shift was over, he'd go home and get as wasted as possible. His plans were thwarted however, when the very metalhead he was just thinking of came trotting into Family Video, his chains and rings clinking as he walked, announcing his arrival.

"Ah, Munson, here to grab a rom-com for your valentine?" Steve commented dully. It came out a little saltier than he'd intended.

Eddie pulled a face. "Someone's grumpy. Valentine's Day not your thing, King Stevie? I thought it would be considering you're an absolutely brilliant charmer." He waved his hands around dramatically, Steve just rolled his eyes.

"It's not my fault Valentine's is always the worst day of the year for me." He grumbled back. "Now, the rom-coms are in the section with all the dumb hearts and confetti and…" Steve waved his hands around vaguely. "Shit."

"Actually, my dear Stevie, I'm also without a valentine. So, I was wondering if you'd like to–"

Steve cut him off, that sour creeping feeling vanishing. "Get wasted out of our minds? Hell yes. My place or yours?"

Eddie looked a bit taken aback, almost like he was going to say something rather different. "Mine?"

"Sounds great." Steve smiled, his eyes brighter now. "I'll see you after my shift."

"Need me to pick you up, big boy?" Eddie smirked. Steve rolled his eyes again, but he couldn't help but feel a certain type of hotness under his collar due to the nickname.

"I'll be fine, thanks. See you in a bit." Steve grinned.

The metalhead gave him finger guns and imitated a southern accent. "Whatever you say, pardner." And he trotted out the store as if on a horse, leaving Steve giggling and smiling.

———

The rest of the day went better, thankfully. Sure there were lovey dovey couples coming in to get their movies that they'd inevitably neglect just so they could make goo goo eyes at each other, but Steve had Eddie and booze to look forward to, and that thought kept him light and airy all throughout the day. He watched as the clock ticked to 5 and he rushed out the door, flipping the open sign to closed, before jumping into his beamer and racing off to the trailer, unable to stop smiling.

At that point he wasn't sure why he was so happy, really. It was just two guys hanging out and getting drunk on Valentine's Day. That was normal.

"Normal friend stuff." He mumbled to himself as he parked. He felt a sudden pang in his stomach of… surely not– butterflies. No, not butterflies, you can't get butterflies for someone you're just friends with. He was just nervous. But why would he be nervous? He sighed and shook his head. He was being an idiot; so much of an idiot in fact that he hadn't noticed Eddie tapping on the window.

"You gonna sit out here all evening, Stevie boy?" He said with a lopsided grin. Steve rolled his eyes and got out. He did that alot with Eddie; not in a dismissive way, of course. He just felt he had to, or else he'd let something else out, something he wouldn't be able to explain away.

And he definitely came close to a reaction like that when Eddie presented a heart shaped box. "For you." His tone was more subdued, his smile suddenly less confident. Steve took them with some hesitation, wondering if it was some sort of joke.

"They're chocolates." Eddie broke the silence that Steve didn't even realise had begun. "There's a dumb card inside too, here." He took the box back, their hands brushing for a moment Steve wished lasted forever. Carefully, he opened it, and in it sat a heart shaped card, almost exactly like the one Steve had received so many years ago. It had the same type of obnoxious hearts glued on, but placed with more articulation this time. He took the card, holding it as if it were a valuable antique. Without even needing to open it to see the chicken-scratch handwriting of "To Steve", he could feel the love put in it. He hoped Eddie might've signed his name this time, so he'd remember who brightened up his Valentine's.

Eddie was looking at him intensely, studying his expression, trying to read his emotions. "It's stupid, I'm sorry." He mumbled, taking Steve's silence as a bad sign.

"Thank you." Steve practically whispered, his eyes meeting Eddie's. They stayed like that, for a moment, their brown eyes locked together for what seemed like an eternity. Steve wasn't sure if Eddie could tell how much the gift meant, but in his heart he hoped he could. In Eddie's eyes though, he could see so much hurt, so much hope. The gift meant a lot to him too, it was to test the waters, to see if perhaps, Steve might like him in a way different to friendship.

Steve felt like Eddie could see so much of him at that moment, those big brown eyes pierced his soul like a pin in a balloon. It was like he could see everything about him, and Steve felt bare and open. It unsettled him somewhat, while also giving him a feeling of belonging. Eddie understood, he got what Steve had been through. He just wasn't ready to share that part of himself with Eddie yet, and so, Steve broke the moment, looking away at the floor.

"We should head inside, it's freezing." He mumbled, slowly walking into the trailer, clutching the card to his chest. Eddie lagged behind briefly before catching him up, and then, he put his jacket around Steve's shoulders. This was all… new. This affection. He wasn't sure what to make of it, really. It stirred feelings in him, feelings he tried so hard to bury so long ago. He didn't say anything, just kept on walking.

"Wanna watch a movie or something then?" Eddie smiled, his confidence returning. This was becoming more and more like a date as it went on, Steve noted. He tried to ignore it. Just two guys watching a movie on Valentine's Day.

"Totally normal and platonic." Steve mumbled.

Eddie frowned confusedly. "What was that?"

"Nothing, uh, nothing." Steve shook his head. "We can watch a movie if you want, yeah."

Eddie smiled again, and how Steve wished he could make Eddie smile like that more. "Great, what do you want, The Wicker Man, The Dead Zone–"

Steve grimaced. Despite having seen ungodly horrors in his real life, he still couldn't handle horror movies.

Eddie rolled his eyes and smiled. "Fine, what do you suggest then?"

"That Star Wars one? You know, it's called, uh… Back to the Future?"

And so began their night of idiocy, dumbassery and intoxication.

———

A couple hours later, and Steve was so drunk he could barely move. Eddie, who handled his booze better, was very entertained by Steve's drunken antics.

"And so, Eds, I told her, d'you know who pauses Fast Times at fifty–" He paused to hiccup. "Fifty three minutes 'n' five seconds? People who like boobies, y'know? Boobies!" Steve flourished with his hands, waving them about so dramatically that he nearly rolled off the couch.

Eddie giggled; while yes, he could handle his alcohol, he was still drunk. "I don't like boobies."

"What? Dude, c'mon, they're boobies, you can just…" Steve made grabbing motions with his hands. "Squish squish."

Eddie sighed. "No it's not that I don't like boobies altogether, it's just… I only like 'em on men."

There was silence for a moment, as it sunk in for both of them that Eddie had just outed himself.

"Men boobies." Steve giggled.

Eddie nodded and smiled. "Men boobies."

———

More time passed, and soon they were fresh out of alcohol and were sobering up slowly. They were sitting in a comfortable silence, when Eddie asked the question.

"Do you like men?"

Steve didn't respond. The effects of the alcohol and his head starting to throb didn't put him in the best state to answer. He wanted to say yes, because that was the honest answer, but all his life he'd been told that he didn't. Yes he knew the people telling him that were wrong on basically every other account but when you're told something enough times, you start to believe it, no matter who's saying it.

Eddie was looking at him. "Steve?"

"I don't know." Steve sighed and brushed a hand through his hair.

"Well…" Eddie sounded hesitant. "We could find out?"

Steve looked at him, only to see him getting closer, looking at his lips, leaning in and…

———

That's all Steve can remember. The next thing he knew he was at Lovers Lake at quarter to four in the morning, gazing into the water, raindrops pattering down on him, he'd be shivering if it weren't for Eddie's jacket.

He ran away, and now he's sitting all alone, drunk, on Valentine's Day. He had a chance, Eddie was going to kiss him, be his valentine, love him; but he's thrown that away, and for what?

I'm a coward. He thinks to himself. A dumb little coward who can't even kiss a boy.

He wanted to. Wants to. But for some reason, in that moment he'd just ran, ran away from his friend, no, his crush. He's sure it's a crush now. What else could it be?

Then, behind him, he hears the unmistakable sound of a beaten up old van and metal music. Eddie.

He doesn't turn around, he can't face Eddie, not like this, not when he has so much shame to deal with. He could swim away, avoid the confrontation. No that's dumb. He thinks. Then, before he can think of another plan, Eddie's sitting beside him.

"Hey." Eddie whispers. "I am so, so sorry. I thought…" He sighs. "I guess I misread the signals, I thought for some dumb reason you might like me back but I–" Steves stops him talking by placing a hand on his.

"You didn't misread anything, Eds, I just panicked and ran like I always do. Feelings are just… They're confusing. I'm confused. All I know is I really, really like you." He turns to look at Eddie, to gauge his reaction, their eyes lock.

There's silence. All they can hear is the rain slowly getting more intense as they stare into each other's eyes.

Eddie drops his gaze for a second before bringing it back. "I like you too."

And so the two boys sit together in the rain, hand in hand, sitting before a heart of water as they figure out how they feel.

[vibbybee]

I took a test to see which enstars character I have the best compatibility with, and I got hinata!! I’m no 2WinkP, but he’s very cute, so I’m not complaining ^o^

[badolmen]

I’m beginning to think my personal high standards for myself are the enemy…