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steveseddie · 10 months ago

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steddie | rating: t | wc: 3,8k | cw: mention of throwing up | tags: pre-season 4, different first meetings, eddie is afraid of heights, steve is a sweetheart, holding hands, first kiss

for week one of @softsteddieseptember using the prompt “facing your fears”

read on ao3 here

Jeff and Gareth stumble out of the Ferris Wheel and Eddie snorts out a laugh.

Jeff is struggling to keep them both upright as Gareth leans all of his weight on him, his face alarmingly green. Jeff manages to get them to the picnic table where Eddie is sitting without Gareth barfing but when he plops down next to Eddie he scoots away, putting some distance between them just in case.

“Shouldn’t’ve gone on the Ferris Wheel after swallowing three fucking corn dogs, Gare,” Eddie sniggers, taking a drag of the cig he’d been smoking while his two friends were spinning fifty feet from the ground.

“Don’t-�� Gareth mumbles, cutting himself off with a gagging sound that makes Eddie sit on top of the table just to put more space between them. “Don’t mention corn dogs. Or food,” he finishes meekly, hunching forward and burying his face in his hands.

Jeff gives him a pat on the shoulder. “It’s your fault, man,” he tells Eddie, who gasps, affronted by the accusation. “If you didn’t fuck off to go take a piss then Gareth wouldn’t’ve had to go on it with me.”

Eddie shrugs, the cigarette dangling from his lips. “Whatcha want me to say, Jeff? When you gotta go, you gotta go.”

(The truth is Eddie didn’t have to go.

He lied about it and then wandered around the fairgrounds aimlessly until he was certain Jeff and Gareth had gone on the Ferris Wheel.

Because Eddie is terrified of heights, a fact no one but his uncle is aware of given how cool and unmetal it is.)

“Ugh, I gotta go,” Gareth grumbles, stumbling over to some bushes before throwing up all over them.

Eddie recoils with a grimace. “Dude!”

Gareth pulls himself together. He wipes his mouth and glares at him over his shoulder. “Shut up, Ed, you wouldn’t be doing any better if it was you who went up-” He pauses, narrowing his eyes at Eddie. “Wait, how come I’ve never seen you go on the Ferris Wheel?”

Oh crap.

“I’ve been on it,” Eddie shrugs, lying as convincingly as he can. “Many times.”

Jeff studies him curiously. “No, no, Gare, is right. We’ve been coming here for three years and you’ve never been on it with us!”

“I’ve been on it,” Eddie insists. “Just you know with other people.”

They both snort. “Oh yeah?” Jeff asks. “Who?”

“Yeah, Eddie, you don’t have any other friends,” Gareth adds.

“I do!” Eddie protests, waving his hands like it will make names appear out of thin air. “I have Freak!”

Jeff raises an eyebrow. “What’s his real name?”

“Uh-” Eddie shrugs. “Freak?”

Gareth shakes his head. The color is back on his face but Eddie wishes he’d go back to hurling his guts out. “If I didn’t know any better, Eddie, I’d say you’re afraid to go on it.”

“Pfffft,” Eddie slaps his knee with a laugh. “I am not.”

“Prove it then,” Gareth says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What?”

“Go on the Ferris Wheel now.”

“Uh, can I finish my cig first?” Eddie asks, trying to stall.

But his friends won’t let him. “No,” they say at the same time.

Well, shit.

“Ugh, fiiiiiine,” Eddie says, throwing his arms up in a tantrum before snuffing the cig against the table.

He stands up and, flanked by his two friends, starts walking towards the Ferris Wheel. As he does, he considers the pros and cons of fleeing- he’s gotten very good at running from people and neither Gareth nor Jeff are as quick as some of the jocks he’s had to outrun before.

But Eddie realizes he might not need to run away when they reach the line just as the guy manning the ride opens the last car to let the last two people in.

“Won’t you look at that!” Eddie whirls around, clapping his hands together. “It’s full! Oh well, there’s always next year!”

He throws his arms around Jeff and Gareth and starts dragging them away. Only for them to stop in their tracks when there’s a voice behind them.

“We have one spot left!” The guy announces. “One spot left! Who wants to ride?”

Gareth whirls around. “He does!” He says, pointing at Eddie who curses inwardly. “He’ll do it. Right, Eddie?”

Through gritted teeth, Eddie mutters ‘if you insist’ because what other fucking choice does he have?

He makes his way to the front of the line like a man stepping into the gallows, jaw clenched and hands balled up into fists at his sides pausing again just as he’s about to get on.

Because sitting on the Ferris Wheel car is no other than Steve fucking Harrington.

He wants to do this even less now knowing that Harrington will be sitting next to him as he tries not to shit his pants. The last thing he wants is the King of Hawkins High to go around sharing that with everyone.

“Dude, are you getting in or not?” The guy asks when Eddie just stands there, an annoyed tilt to his voice.

Eddie glances over his shoulder to find Gareth and Jeff giving him two thumbs up, matching smirks on their faces. He flips them off, ignoring the scandalized gasp from a mother waiting in line with her son.

Then he glances back at the car- at Harrington, who is staring at him with an impatient bitchy look. The King probably isn’t happy about sharing a Ferris Wheel car with the Freak.

Yeah, well, the feeling is fucking mutual.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going in,” Eddie says anyway, sliding into his seat. He does his best to ignore Harrington as the guy lowers the safety bar on their laps- as well as the dread that has settled on his belly.

It only grows as they start moving.

“Enjoy your ride,” the guy tells them with fake cheerfulness.

Eddie fights the urge to flip him off too.

“Fuck,” he mutters, grabbing the safety bar with a death grip as their car starts to rise. They keep rocking back and forth and Eddie’s stomach falls out of his ass every time. “Fuck me.”

Next to him, Harrington lets out a snort. “At least buy me dinner first, Munson.”

Eddie snaps his head towards him- Harrington is leaning back against his seat with a smirk, seemingly not caring at all about the fact that they’re about to be thirty feet from the ground. Asshole.

“Hardy-har-har, Harrington,” Eddie says through gritted teeth, trying not to let his voice waver.

As far as comebacks go, it’s a lame one and Harrington must notice. “Geez, man. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m- I’m fine.”

Harrington glances down at Eddie’s hands on the safety bar with a pointed look. “Really? Because you look like you’re trying to snap that bar in half.”

Eddie glances down and sees that he’s white-knuckling the safety bar. He loosens his hold a little. “I’m fine,” he says, voice clipped. “Mind your own business, Your Majesty.”

“Christ, Munson, what’s your problem?” Harrington huffs out a sound halfway between a grunt and a laugh. “And don’t call me that. You don’t hear me calling you Freak.”

To Eddie, they’re not the same. He thought someone like Harrington would enjoy being reminded about his popular status in high school- even if Eddie’s tone is mocking. But it seems the whole King thing struck a nerve.

“My problem is-” Eddie starts, meaning to tell Harrington that it’s him even if Eddie hasn’t had a problem with him in particular since he graduated but then their car jerks and his words trail off into a whimper.

“This fucking deathtrap, shit. Okay, I’m not fine,” he admits, eyes screwed shut as they reach the top. “I'm like terrified of heights, okay? Which is fucking lame and super unmetal of me so go ahead, laugh it up.”

He waits to hear it- Harrington’s laugh but there’s only silence.

Eddie peeks at him through one eye.

“I’m not gonna do that,” Harrington says, his eyebrows knitted in a way that’s frankly kinda cute.

Cute? Jesus Christ, Eddie, not the time.

“Why not?” He asks. “It’s what you jocks do.”

“Yeah, well, I haven’t been a jock for a while, man.”

Eddie guesses that’s true. Even before he graduated, Harrington had stopped being a jock under Eddie’s definition of the word. He still played basketball, but he didn’t pick on Eddie or the other nerds and now he’s not laughing at him for being afraid of heights even though if the roles were reversed Eddie would probably get a few laughs in himself.

Maybe he should cut Harrington some slack.

“Why are you riding the Ferris Wheel anyway?” He asks after a short silence. “If you don’t like heights?”

Another mind your own business rests at the tip of Eddie’s tongue but he did just say he’d cut him some slack. Besides, Eddie is slowly realizing that talking to Harrington is helping keep him distracted from where they are right now.

“Well, my friends think I’m scared-”

“You are,” Harrington interjects with a smirk.

“Yeah, yeah, I am,” Eddie accepts with an eye roll even if he feels his mouth tick up. “But they don’t need to know that, I have a reputation to uphold.”

“With your friends?”

“With my friends, the school.” Eddie clicks his tongue. “ Society.”

Harrington snorts out a startled sort of chuckle, eyebrows raised in amusement. “Well, I won’t tell society,” he says with a conspiratorial smile. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

He bumps their shoulders together and it makes the car tip forward. Eddie bites down on a very embarrassing scream. Harrington grimaces. “Shit, sorry.”

“Why are you- why are you riding the Ferris Wheel?” Eddie asks. “You can’t possibly enjoy this, man.”

“It’s not so bad,” Harrington shrugs. “I like the view, especially at sunset.”

“Ah,” Eddie smiles teasingly. “I bet you bring all the pretty girls up here, hold their hand if they get scared.”

Harrington raises an eyebrow at him. “Are you suggesting I hold your hand, Munson?”

Is he? Eddie looks down at Steve’s hands. They’re nice hands and Eddie has to admit that the thought of holding one of them right now doesn’t exactly make him want to jump off this car.

It makes his heat build in his cheeks actually. “Fuck off, no, I’m-”

“Because I would,” Harrington interjects, “if you wanted me to.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide. “I- uh. You- no, you wouldn’t.”

Harrington tilts his head, watching Eddie with a mixture of amusement and something else. If Eddie didn’t know any better he’d say Harrington finds it endearing- how nervous Eddie is. What the hot fuck?

Harrington holds out his hand, palm up, in the space between them.

Eddie can only stare at it like it’s going to bite him or like Harrington is going to jerk it back and laugh at him for falling for the joke. He does neither. He wiggles his fingers and Eddie, who might be oxygen-deprived from the height, lets go of the bar with one hand, wipes it on his jeans, and grabs Harrington’s.

He links their fingers together loosely and gives Eddie a little half-smirk, half-smile that he bets left a girl or two giggling back in the day. Right now it makes Eddie’s heart stutter in a wildly different way than being this far from the ground does.

The ground, which is currently far, far away. Shit. The reminder makes him grip Harrington’s hand tighter and it’s really nice- warm and soft instead of cold and hard like the safety bar. Eddie looks down at their joined hands, and focuses on that- on how big Steve’s hand is and how many freckles are dusted over the back of it, how he doesn’t seem to mind that Eddie’s rings are probably digging painfully into his skin with how hard he’s holding on to him.

“Better?”

“Yeah,” Eddie admits with a shaky laugh. “Um, thanks, man, for not laughing and like, not being a dick about this.”

“Yeah, well, I’m trying to be less of a dick these days.”

“And how’s that working out for ya?”

Harrington’s nose scrunches up. “I’m alone at the Ferris Wheel, Eddie, so what do you think?”

Eddie chuckles. “Oh, so what am I? Chopped liver?”

“No!” Harrington counters quickly. “Just not who I thought I’d end up riding the Ferris Wheel with.”

“Oh how you wound me, Steve,” Eddie says with an exaggerated pout.

“Shut up, you’re the one who’s wounding me,” he says playfully, using his free hand to gesture at where his other one is still trapped by Eddie’s. “Think you’re cutting off circulation to my hand.”

Eddie loosens his hold a little, his cheeks pinking up again. “Fuck, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Steve says, giving it a squeeze. “Robin and I went to see this gross movie once called The Thing and I’m pretty sure I almost lost all my fingers from how hard she was gripping my hand.”

Eddie blinks. “Robin Buckley? From band?” He asks and Steve nods. “I didn’t know you two were friends or is it- are you two like-”

Jesus, why do you even care, Munson? Talk about minding your own business.

“Oh no,” Steve replies even if Eddie didn’t finish the question. “I love Robin, but she’s just my friend. My best friend. It’s tectonic.”

Eddie tilts his head. “Do- do you mean platonic?”

“Yeah, that,” Steve says, snapping his fingers and shooting a single finger gun in his direction. “She’s actually down there somewhere with- um, with someone else.”

“Oh, Steve,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “You’re third-wheeling your band nerd best friend? How the mighty have fallen truly.”

Steve groans, throwing his head back but not before Eddie sees how his mouth twitches. “It gets worse, dude. I’m also here babysitting a bunch of fourteen-year-olds who are also nerds. Except for Max, she’s cool, she doesn’t play that- dorks and dweebs game the others are obsessed with.”

“Hold on, I’m sorry, do you mean Dungeons and Dragons?” Eddie sputters, trying to wrap his head around everything he’s learning about Steve- horror movie enjoyer, nerd-sympathizer, a babysitter who sort of knows what Dungeons and Dragons is.

Steve purses his lips. “I think I like my name better.”

“Sure, buddy,” Eddie says with a snort. “Well, I’m sorry to inform you that I run an after-school club for that game so by hanging out with me your cool-o-meter just took an even bigger nose dive.”

“Well, goddamn it, Munson,” Steve says jokingly.

“Bet you wish you got stuck with a pretty girl instead of me, huh, big boy?”

Steve falters at the name that truth be told slipped out of Eddie’s mouth without him realizing. A slight pink tinge shades his cheeks.

It’s nothing compared to the deep shade of red Eddie’s cheeks turn when Steve says, “Actually being stuck with a pretty boy is fine by me.”

A nearly hysterical laugh rushes from Eddie’s lips before he can help it. “A pretty- uh. What?” His heart is doing summersaults in his chest and Eddie tries hard to get it to calm down. Steve could be fucking with him. Fuck, is he? “Are you- Steve. Harrington. Are you fucking with me? ‘Cause you might’ve graduated and you might not be a jock anymore but I know you know what your teammates called me, man, you know I’m- and you fucking with me like that is not cool-”

“Woah, Eddie, hey. I’m not,” Steve assures him, pretty brown eyes wide like a startled deer. “It’s true, okay? You are pretty.”

Oh.

An ugly strangled noise escapes Eddie. “Oh. Okay. Uh.”

Steve runs a hand through his hair and shifts nervously in the seat. “Fuck, just forget I said that, I didn’t want to make things weird, okay? Just- yeah, forget it.”

“Who says I want to?”

Steve’s eyebrows meet in the middle. Cute, Eddie thinks again. Oh, maybe it was the time after all. “Um, your face, man? You look like I splashed you with water and then threw a toaster at you or something.”

“That’s- that’s actually a good way to describe how I feel, yeah,” Eddie agrees. Steve cringes slightly. “Not in a bad way! I’m just surprised! I didn’t know you-” liked boys? liked freaks? liked me?

Whatever he means, Steve gets it. “Yeah, I do,” he says, the tips of his ears turning pink. “It’s fine if you don’t or whatever-”

Eddie opens his mouth to assure him he does in fact like boys and freaks and Steve who might be a freak himself if this Ferris Wheel ride has taught Eddie anything-

Before he can though the Ferris Wheel screeches to a halt, their car rocking in place at the top.

“Why- why are we stopping? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Steve says, squeezing Eddie’s hand. “It’s the last spin, they’re probably gonna stop each cart at the top for a few minutes.”

Eddie whines pathetically. “What? Why?”

“So people can watch the sunset? Make out?” Steve blushes. “Or something.”

The wind picks up and makes the car rock back and forth and Eddie groans. “Fucking great!”

“Hey, what do you need?” Steve asks, rubbing his thumb over the back of Eddie’s hand. It’s almost enough to distract him from being stuck at the top. Almost.

“To be back on solid ground? Or a distraction. Please distract me, Stevie,” Eddie says, feeling panic bubbling up inside him. He doesn’t even notice when the nickname slips out.

Steve’s eyes flick over his face looking for something. He either finds it or gives up. Either way, he takes a deep breath. “Please don’t punch me for this.”

“Punch you for-”

The last word dies in Eddie’s throat because Steve leans in and presses a kiss to his mouth, effectively shutting him up.

For a beat, neither of them does anything. Then Steve’s free hand cups Eddie’s cheek and he moves his lips. Eddie makes a soft, needy noise in the back of his throat, his eyelids fluttering shut, and then he’s kissing Steve back.

It’s a slow and lazy kiss but it’s enough to make Eddie forget where he is or that he’s supposed to be panicking. He even lets go of the safety bar just so he can get his fingers in Steve’s hair.

They don’t break apart until the Ferris Wheel starts moving again, their car making its way down so they can finally get off this stupid thing.

(Though it might be starting to grow on Eddie. Just a little.)

When they stop again so that the people in the next car can have their go at the top, Eddie’s stomach merely swoops and it might have more to do with the way Steve licks his pink, wet lips than with anything else.

“Well, that’s one way to distract someone,” Eddie says, his voice coming out a little breathless. “Thanks, Stevie.”

Steve snorts, hanging a hand from his neck. “Thanks for not punching me.”

“I’m a lover, not a fighter, baby,” Eddie says and watches delightedly how a flush creeps up Steve’s cheeks at the pet name. “I’d never punch you, your face is too pretty for that.”

A startled laugh tumbles from Steve’s lips. “So I could kiss you again?”

“I could be persuaded to do that again, yeah.” Eddie tilts his head, eyes darting a little anxiously over Steve’s face. “First I gotta know if this is like a ‘what happens in the Ferris Wheel stays in the Ferris Wheel’ kind of thing, you know?”

“Nah,” Steve says with a smile that edges on soft. “I was actually gonna drag you with me to the Hoop Shot game after this. Impress you a little.”

“Oh yeah?” Eddie asks, grinning widely. “Gonna impress me with your jock moves?”

“Mhm. By winning you a stuffed animal too.”

Eddie clicks his tongue. “Stevie, Stevie, Stevie, I told you, I have a reputation to uphold-”

“With society, yeah, yeah. Don’t worry, I’ll get you something metal like a bat! Or a dragon.”

“Hm,” Eddie taps his finger against his chin. “Get me both and it’s a deal!”

Steve’s eyes twinkle. “Does that mean I get two kisses?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Eddie says, pitching his voice low and deep. Steve’s eyes widen slightly. “You can have way more than that.”

They’re almost at the bottom now which is probably why Steve doesn’t lean in for another kiss right then and there when it’s clear that he wants to. This close to the ground, people could see and the last thing they want is an angry mob waiting for them at the bottom.

They’re happy to just hold hands for what’s left of the ride. Despite Eddie not being scared anymore, neither of them considers letting go, not until the guy from before yanks the safety bar off their laps, stares curiously at their clasped hands for a second before his expression turns bored again, and waves them out of the car.

Eddie climbs out and jogs down the steps, past the people waiting in line. His eyes dart over the people hanging around the Ferris Wheel, looking for Gareth and Jeff but his friends must’ve gotten bored and wandered off at some point because they’re nowhere to be seen. Whatever, he was gonna ditch them to hang out with Steve anyway.

But Steve gets the wrong idea when he sees Eddie scanning the crowd. He scruffs his Nike against the ground and hangs a hand from his neck. “It’s okay if you wanna find your friends-”

“Fuck, no,” Eddie says quickly. “They’re big boys, they can get home on their own. Or not and it serves them right for forcing me to go on that deathtrap!”

“Oh, come on,” Steve says with a playful grin.

“Fine, I guess it wasn’t that bad,” Eddie says, rolling his eyes, the corners of his mouth ticking up. “What about you? You don’t have to find your baby nerds and make sure they’re okay?”

“Nope, those shitheads can take care of themselves,” Steve says. “I have more important things to do.”

“Like me?” Eddie asks with a ridiculous waggle of his eyebrows. It makes Steve tip his head back with a laugh. Eddie’s eyes zero in on the moles in the column on his neck, thoughts drifting to wanting to kiss every single one of them.

“Maybe later,” he tells Eddie with a wink. His stomach swoops and this time it has nothing to do with gravity and heights. “C’mon, man, let’s get you that bat.”

Eddie holds his finger up, wagging it in front of Steve’s face. “And the dragon!” Eddie says, getting all up in Steve’s space as he starts walking in the direction of the Hoop Shot game. “Don’t forget the dragon!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Munson.”

(Steve gets him the bat. And the dragon. And cotton candy. And later follows Eddie home after dropping off his herd of fourteen-year-olds. Eddie lets him have two kisses and more just like he promised.)

(And he rides more than just the Ferris Wheel that day.)

#soft steddie september #softsteddieseptember #steddie #steddie fic #stranger things fic #stranger things #i'm a day late for this week but i was sick for three days and couldn't do more than watch Netflix so i hope i can be forgiven #i've always wanted to write a different first meeting and i finally did woohoo #steve harrington #eddie munson #monse writes

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siratonin · 6 months ago

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here my last try to make amends 🥺 Part1, Part2, and ao3

The knock on Buck’s door came late, just as he was gearing up for his shift. He still had about an hour before he had to leave, but the last thing he expected was a visitor at this time of night. He frowned, tossing his phone onto the couch and padding barefoot to the door.

When he opened it, Tommy stood there.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Tommy’s eyes were tired but clear, his posture almost tentative, like he was waiting for permission to speak.

“Hi,” Tommy said softly, his hands buried in his hoodie pockets.

Buck crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

Tommy’s lips twitched, a faint attempt at humor slipping through his guarded expression. “Well, if it helps, I thought about not showing up. For a while, actually. But then I remembered how charming I am.”

Buck raised an eyebrow, his expression flat. “Yeah, that’s definitely the word I’d use for you right now.”

Tommy tilted his head, feigning thoughtfulness. “Dashing? Irresistible?”

“Annoying,” Buck snapped, his voice clipped.

Tommy’s faint smirk dropped, replaced by something softer. “Yeah. That one, too.”

Buck stared at him for a long moment, his jaw tightening as his eyes flicked over Tommy’s face. Finally, he exhaled sharply and stepped back. “Forget it. Come in before my neighbors start wondering why I’m glaring at you.”

Tommy stepped inside, his movements careful, like he wasn’t sure he was welcome. He stood near the stairs, glancing around the loft like it might give him clues about how to start.

“So?” Buck prompted, crossing his arms again. “You’ve had days, Tommy. Why now? Why not a call, or a text? No, you just show up and... what? Wing it?”

Tommy hesitated, then smirked faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I figured if I winged it, you’d yell at me less.”

Buck’s glare hardened, and Tommy flinched under it.

“Evan—”

“Don’t,” Buck cut him off sharply. “Don’t say my name like that. Like you didn’t rip me apart and walk away like it was nothing.”

Tommy sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t know what to say, okay?”

Buck’s laugh was bitter. “That’s a first. You had plenty to say when you were walking out the door.”

Tommy winced, his gaze dropping to the floor. “That’s fair.”

“No,” Buck shot back, his voice sharp. “It’s not fair. Nothing about what you did was fair, Tommy.” He paused, his voice quieter but no less cutting. “You don’t get to stand here and act like you’re the victim of your own choices.”

Tommy opened his mouth, then closed it again, visibly gathering himself. Finally, he looked Buck in the eyes and spoke. “You deserve the truth, Evan.”

“Yeah, I do,” Buck said, his arms tightening over his chest. “So why don’t you start there?”

Tommy hesitated, his jaw tightening as though the words were physically painful to say. He let out a shaky breath, his eyes flicking away for a moment before nodding slightly, like he was convincing himself to go on. “Uh...” He dragged a hand down his face, exhaling hard. “Everyone I’ve ever loved has left me.”

He stopped, the words hanging in the air before he forced himself to continue, his voice quieter now. “For one reason or another—my fault, their fault, circumstances...” His voice dropped almost to a whisper, “death—it doesn’t matter. It always ends the same. I’ve watched people I cared about walk away, and every time, it felt like they took a piece of me with them. Until there was almost nothing left.”

Buck’s chest tightened, but he didn’t interrupt.

Tommy’s voice cracked, but he pushed on. “And then you came along. And you—you were this... this light. You made me feel like maybe I could have something good again. Something worth holding onto. But the thing is... I didn’t trust it. I didn’t trust myself not to ruin it.” He stopped, the words catching in his throat as his gaze flicked to Buck, then away again. After a beat, he added, softer this time, “And I didn’t trust you... not to leave.”

Buck’s eyebrows shot up, disbelief flashing across his face. “So you decided to leave first?” His tone was flat, but the hurt in it was unmistakable.

Tommy nodded, shame flickering in his eyes. “It wasn’t about you, Evan. It was about me trying to protect myself from the kind of pain I wasn’t sure I’d survive again.”

“And you thought that would hurt less?” Buck asked, his voice breaking on the question.

Tommy’s jaw tightened, and then his voice rose a, a rare flash of frustration breaking through. “You know you didn’t come after me that day, Evan!” The words were sharp, cutting the air between them like a knife. “What does that tell me? That I’m right?”

Buck flinched, his face breaking in a way that made Tommy’s stomach drop. The anger drained out of him instantly, replaced by regret.

“God, Evan,” Tommy said, softer now, running a hand over his face. “I didn’t mean—” He stopped, exhaling shakily. “I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

“No,” Buck said, his voice low but trembling. “But you did.”

Tommy let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. “You told me that day that you wanted me to move in with you.” His laugh turned bitter, self-deprecating. “God, Evan, you really didn’t think about me at all when you asked me that, did you?”

Buck’s expression faltered, his eyes narrowing slightly. “What do you mean?”

“Evan, I—” Tommy gestured around the loft, his voice softening as he tried to explain. “I own a house. One I worked hard on. This,” he said, gesturing again toward the space around them, “this is pretty. It’s lovely. I love your loft, Evan. But this isn’t a place for two grown men to live in, is it?”

Buck blinked, his posture stiffening. “You could’ve said something.”

“I didn’t know how to,” Tommy admitted, his tone weary. “I didn’t want to hurt you, and I knew that saying no... it would’ve felt like rejection. But Evan, that day? I panicked. I thought, if I said no, maybe you’d see it as me not wanting to be with you. And if I said yes...” His voice broke slightly. “I didn’t know what to do. So I ran.”

Buck’s shoulders sagged slightly, the weight of Tommy’s confession settling heavily between them. “You should’ve told me,” Buck said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “You should’ve let me in. I would’ve stayed, Tommy. I would’ve fought for us.”

For a moment, Tommy’s eyes flickered with something Buck couldn’t name—relief? Regret? It only stoked the fire in Buck’s chest, the ache shifting into something sharper, hotter.

“You didn’t trust me, Tommy,” Buck said, his voice rising now, shaking with the effort to keep his emotions in check. “You didn’t trust us.” His hands clenched at his sides as the words spilled out, jagged and unrelenting. “You just—” He jabbed his finger toward Tommy, his voice breaking with anger. “You just ran, because that’s what you do. You’re a damn coward—”

Tommy flinched at the word, his breath hitching audibly. Without a word, he turned away sharply, his face angling toward the wall. His shoulders tensed, his hands gripping the edge of the armchair like he was bracing himself for a blow that wouldn’t come.

“What, can’t even look at me now?” Buck snapped, his anger spilling over. “You were so eager to leave, Tommy. So eager to run again. Go ahead, just run—”

Buck stopped mid-sentence, his eyes narrowing as something caught his attention. Tommy’s hand jerked upward, brushing quickly at his face, but not fast enough.

“Tommy, wha—” Buck’s tone shifted, his anger faltering as concern flickered in his voice. He took a hesitant step forward. “Are you—?”

Tommy turned back before Buck could finish, his face streaked with tears he’d been trying—and failing—to hide. His jaw was tight, his lips trembling as he sucked in a shaky breath, but the tears kept coming, betraying him. His eyes burned, glassy and raw as they locked onto Buck’s, and there was a flash of something in them that made Buck falter completely.

“Don’t,” Tommy said, his voice trembling but sharp enough to stop Buck in his tracks. His hand trembled as he wiped at his face, but the tears wouldn’t stop. His chest heaved as he fought to speak, to keep it together, but the fight was already lost.

And then, suddenly, he snapped. “You think I wanted to run?” he choked out, his voice breaking. “You think I don’t hate myself every second for leaving you? For breaking this? Do you have any idea what it’s like—” He gestured vaguely, angrily, his voice climbing with every word. “—to feel like you’re going to lose everything, again and again? Do you have any idea how it feels to be so fucking scared of losing someone that you rip your own heart out before they can do it for you?”

His words poured out in a flood, raw and unfiltered, as the tears kept falling. “I left because I thought it would hurt less if I was the one to walk away. But guess what? It doesn’t! It hurts like hell, Evan. Every goddamn day, it hurts.”

Tommy’s hands shook as he scrubbed at his face, but it was useless. The tears kept coming, streaking his cheeks, his voice trembling under the weight of everything he’d been holding in. “You think I ran because I’m a coward? Fine. Call me a coward. Call me whatever you want. But don’t stand there and think I didn’t care. Don’t you fucking dare.”

Buck stared at him, his chest tightening as the anger drained from his face, replaced by something softer. Something unsure. He wanted to say something—anything—but his throat felt too tight, the words sticking like stones.

Tommy let out a bitter laugh, his voice trembling. “You think I don’t hear your voice in my head every day? You think I don’t regret every second of it? I hate what I did. I hate that I hurt you. But I didn’t know how to stay, Evan. I didn’t know how to let myself have something good without being terrified it was going to get ripped away.”

He gestured toward himself, his movements jerky, unsteady. “This—this is me, okay? This mess. This broken, pathetic, scared piece of shit who doesn’t know how to hold on to anything good because everything good always leaves. And I thought maybe if I left first... maybe it would hurt a little less. Maybe I could keep some piece of myself this time.”

The room was thick with silence, heavy with the weight of Tommy’s words. He shook his head, his breathing still uneven as he looked away again, his hand dragging roughly across his face.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I know it’s not enough. I know it’ll never be enough. But I am so goddamn sorry.”

Buck finally stepped forward, his movements slow, tentative. His hand hovered near Tommy’s arm before he pulled it back, his voice soft but steady. “Tommy... I didn’t know.”

Tommy let out a shaky breath, his eyes squeezing shut. “I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“Well, I see you now,” Buck said quietly. “And I still—” His voice wavered, but he swallowed hard and pushed on. “I’m still here, Tommy. You didn’t lose me... Not completely.”

Tommy looked at him then, his eyes glassy but searching, like he was trying to find the truth in Buck’s words. His lips trembled, his jaw tightening as he nodded once, the tears still clinging stubbornly to his lashes.

Buck’s chest ached at the sight of him, so raw and open, and he let out a soft, shaky breath. “I’m not saying it’s okay,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “I’m not saying I can just forget about what you did. But I get it now. At least... I think I do.”

Tommy’s breath hitched, his hands still trembling. “I don’t deserve this,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible.

Buck’s gaze softened, though his tone remained steady. “That’s not for you to decide Tommy,” he said firmly. “We both made mistakes. But if we’re going to do this, it has to be together.”

Tommy’s breath hitched. “I know that now. And I’m here because... because I want to fight for us, too. If you’ll let me.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the weight of their words filling the room. Then Buck shook his head slightly, his voice softer but no less firm.

“You don’t get to do this to me again,” Buck said, his tone laced with exhaustion. “If we’re going to do this, it’s all or nothing. No running. No excuses.”

Tommy nodded, his jaw tight as tears threatened to spill again. “I’m not running, Evan. Not this time.”

Buck let out a shaky breath, his eyes scanning Tommy’s face. The raw vulnerability there made his chest ache, but the weight of the moment pressed down on him, leaving him unsure of what to say next.

He huffed a soft, almost nervous laugh. “You know, I should probably be throwing something at you right now… A pillow, maybe.”

Tommy blinked, a faint crease forming between his brows. “A pillow?”

“Yeah, nothing too dangerous. Just something to get it out of my system.” Buck’s lips quirked upward, but his eyes betrayed the storm of emotions still churning beneath the surface.

Tommy let out a small, incredulous laugh, shaking his head.

“Yeah, well...” Buck shrugged, the small smile fading as his gaze dropped to Tommy’s hands, trembling slightly at his sides. His own hand twitched, the urge to reach out tugging at him, but he hesitated. For a moment, he wasn’t sure if he should. If he could.

And then he looked up—really looked—and saw the streaks on Tommy’s face, the glassy sheen in his eyes, the way he was holding himself together by sheer force of will. Something in Buck softened, the edges of his anger and hurt giving way to the undeniable pull of the man standing in front of him.

Without overthinking, Buck closed the space between them, his movements slow, deliberate. His forehead came to rest gently against Tommy’s, their breaths mingling in the fragile silence.

“Ask me, Tommy,” Buck whispered, his voice breaking with emotion, his eyes fluttering shut as he let himself feel the closeness, the weight of everything unsaid between them.

Tommy’s breath caught, his eyes glassy as he whispered back. “Evan... will you give me a second chance? A second chance so I can prove to you how much you matter to me, how much I love you?”

Buck kissed him softly, his hands coming up to rest against Tommy’s shoulders. When they pulled back, he smiled faintly. “Only if you trust me this time. With your heart and all of it.”

Tommy let out a watery laugh, their foreheads still pressed together, their noses brushing. “We’ll make this work,” he said firmly, his voice thick with emotion.

Buck nodded, kissing him again, deeper this time. When they finally pulled apart, Buck whispered, “I have a shift.”

Tommy chuckled, his hand lingering on Buck’s arm. “Really? And... should we meet on Saturday?”

Buck laughed, shaking his head as he pulled Tommy into a tight hug.

---

Sunday morning, a knock echoed through Buck’s loft. He opened the door, his hair tousled and his shirt still wrinkled from sleep.

Tommy stood there, holding a bag of groceries and wearing a tentative smile.

“Can I make you some pancakes?”

Buck stared at him for a beat, then grinned, stepping aside to let him in.

#this was supposed to be a stupid oneshot i wrote because yay drunk buck #but the peer pressure is real 🤷🏻‍♀️#no more parts... hope i'm forgiven 😗#bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #*

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robinnight · 4 months ago

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everything people complain about devin grayson doing, marv wolfman has done five times over

#i'm very middle ground on marv wolfman. i've enjoyed some of his stuff and disliked a bunch too #but terry long will never be forgiven

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quotidian-oblivion · 5 months ago

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The people who simply can't understand why Zuko sought his dad's acceptance and love for so long, and why he still wants to reconcile with Azula (in the comics), clearly don't know anything about child abuse. Nor do they seem to want to understand.

A lot of people don't. That's Zuko's dad. That his sister. That's really the main thing you need to know. It's reason enough.

#i'm fine with people not understanding #but i hate people who criticize it without empathy #you cant just say “you can choose your own family!” and then immediately get over the fact that you're #related to these people by blood #one of the many reasons i love atla is not only that the abuser wasnt forgiven and moved on #but i love it *especially* for how accurate and real zuko's journey is as a child of abuse #and i also love that other characters like iroh *understood* it as well #its an amazing fucking show #atla #zuko #ozai #azula #atla zuko #zuko atla #avatar zuko #zuko avatar #avatar the last airbender #quotidian convos #child abuse

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jordeclans · 2 years ago

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trc x twitter au part 23/?

part 22

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kaddyssammlung · 1 year ago

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source for the 2nd gif set

#sleep token #sleep token gif #sleep token vessel #saw both videos at the same time and could not decide which one I should turn into a gif so I took both...I hope I'm forgiven

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readerconfused · 8 months ago

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*ok don't come for me when S2 comes out, but i just noticed that Chris dresses like Luke just like a younger brother wanting to be like the older one

It's not the same, but i like to think since they are never in the same scene with the clothing it gives the impression that they share clothes

#I know it's been almost a year I'm just myopic #(SPOILERS) yes i still haven't gotten over what happens in the maze and i don't know if I've forgiven Luke for it (maybe not)#percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo fandom #pjo #luke castellan #chris rodriguez

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sword-wielding-sapphic · 5 months ago

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Luke Arnold comparing Silver pulling a gun on Flint to "putting down the family dog" is kinda funny considering that the other ending is literally 'it's ok sweetie, he's not dead, he went to live on a farm'

#he said this in an interview with fathoms deep podcast btw #I'm still not sure how I feel about the ending. cos I said earlier that flint's 'happy ending' feels too idealistic so maybe I do prefer #the idea that silver did actually kill him and he created that other story to memorialise him. so that while flint does become the #monster in a children's story for most people. there is a story where he is forgiven and allowed to be gay and happy and peaceful #god. the fucking power of storytelling. fuck I really am going to think about this show forever #black sails #black sails spoilers

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fiona-fififi · 1 month ago

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Not to be one of the people dooming, and honestly, I appreciate people's optimism about buddie, but I really do think they're just ship baiting at this point. All the "well, they set up so much and they're just going to take their time with it" doesn't work here. Because if our arguments were that they were introducing the concept for the general audience, then that doesn't matter anymore when we're several months out from s9. The general audience is not going to remember the buddie sideplots that happened at the halfway point of the previous season. Especially when Bobby dying is the big takeaway from this season. Without something concrete in this episode, there's no reason for them to go through with buddie anymore. It's going to be too far separated. And that's not even to mention that Tim is absolute shit at planning anything at all.

This episode was a reset. Nothing important happened. They "wrapped up" loose threads and put everyone back where they started the season. Only difference is no Bobby this time. This episode was just a repeat of 6x18.

That doesn't mean they can't do buddie next season. But they set it up in a way that actually would have worked this season, only to drop any possible threads in the finale. I don't think that bodes well. Because all that's likely to happen is the exact same thing again. They set things up in a way they could sell in the first half, Tim gets distracted, everything gets pushed back, and we end up right back here.

I don't think progress toward any story at all for any character is ever going to actually manifest with Tim at the helm of this show, to be honest.

#honestly would be willing to bet he's saving it for the series finale #so he sets things up before they get the renewal. they get the renewal. and pushes it back again. further and further.#not a good look #and especially frustrating because they fumbled queer buck so hard #and i could have forgiven that better if there had been more progress on the buddie front to explore a meaningful relationship for him #but they're not selling that either #so anyway #i'm out #buddie was the only thing keeping this show afloat for me and they dropped the ball too damn hard #anyway #911 spoilers #911 negativity #buddie #buddie dooming #is that a tag?? i don't know

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dalliancekay · 6 months ago

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Aziraphale loves Crowley but...

(A clickbait title? Me? Possibly)

There's this thought rattling in my brain for a good while and I have to try to get it out.

So most of the fandom seems to operate under the impression that Crowley loves Aziraphale unreservedly (since Eden) and that he is waiting for the angel to catch up with him.

This is evident across metas here, and many posts and comments elsewhere. Even fics (if I'm permitted to say that) keep dancing around the idea that Crowley never knows where he stands. It's apparently not that obvious how Aziraphale feels about Crowley (especially to Crowley). Because Aziraphale is forever denying their connection (as if he didn’t have good enough reason!) and/or also that Crowley, who is always open about his feelings, is waiting for Aziraphale to finally admit at some point (sooner than later please) how he feels so they can be together (... but I'm not going there today...).

But I did have discussions with people from other countries and cultures. Notably @sayuri-of-the-valley who told me that most people in their country would assume Aziraphale is the smitten one and it's not so obvious how Crowley feels (he might be just toying with the angel?).

So I've been thinking about how Aziraphale feels from what we see.

In Before the Beginning, which is their first encounter, Aziraphale is immediately taken by the sweet, pretty, enthusiastic angel who seems completely oblivious to Aziraphale's hopes to be noticed.

We do not know if they meet again as angels or how long after their meeting the Great War happens. I would think this is not their only encounter. But it could be. I think they became friends and at some later point Angel!Crowley asked Aziraphale to join in the rebellion (or at least come with him to hang out with the guys and find out what it's about). But forever cautious Aziraphale warned him that it's not a good idea and refused and ... Crowley fell.

Next time they see each other is in Eden.

They seem to recognise each other and Crawley is clearly pretty happy to see Aziraphale who does not introduce himself but Aziraphale gently prompts the demon to introduce himself.

Aziraphale seems a little unsure how they stand at first ... ...and I think it's because of what has transpired before the Fall (is Aziraphale forgiven?). But as Crawley gently teases him about the recently passed events, Aziraphale is assured and trusts Crawley as if nothing much changed between them and he readily admits he's given away his sword to the demon. (The truth of which he does not disclose to God Herself.)

Their relationship progresses as far as it can, in the circumstances, over the next centuries and millennia, they both care and look out for each other. Until the next big heart-breaking 'break-up' happens. An impossible ask.

1862

Crowley's request for holy water basically pierces Aziraphale's heart. He would prefer they don't see each other again than give in to such extraordinarily dangerous request. Out of the question! This would mean the end of existence for Crowley. He would not just be discorporated, not 'just' taken away. He'd be gone.

If they truly don't see each other for almost 80 years, this must have hurt so, so deeply.

Next they see each other then, it's 1941. I know some people HC that Crowley slept until then but I think it's very unlikely. He seems to know what is happening with WWII, and besides, he has his car, which he says he has from new and you wouldn't buy a 1926 Bentley new in 1940.

So back to the husbands. Aziraphale might very well think he will never be forgiven for his resolute refusal of handing Crowley the one thing that can so easily simply wipe him from existence.

When Crowley shows up in the church, Aziraphale yet again is not sure where he stands. Is he forgiven? What is Crowley coming to do? (No, I don't think Aziraphale thought Crowley was coming with revenge or anything similar, I assume it's as he says, he assumes he's there because of his job, to do something for Hell). But Crowley assures him that is not the case and they fall into their usual bickering (Anthony??).

And all is well. Aziraphale breathes out and THEN Crowley remembers to save his books.

And Aziraphale knows he's forgiven.

When 1967 comes around and he hears about Crowley's frankly insane decision to get some humans to source holy water for him, the angel breaks his own heart and hands Crowley a double walled, securely closed vessel with the dangerous substance just because it's the safer option.

The next break up is...

After that they 'see' each other when Aziraphale's (soul? essence?) discorporated self finds Crowley drinking in the pub.

Crowley tells Aziraphale he lost his best friend... But what is Aziraphale thinking?

Yet again, I suppose he's unsure where he stands. He did after all make a decision to do something Crowley disagreed with. And Crowley left. Twice. Aziraphale didn't want to run. He was going to try and find a way to save the Earth even if it meant to try and talk to God and whatever consequences would follow from that.

But Crowley is so gentle with him as he tells him his home burned down. He even has the one book Aziraphale really needed, somehow saved.

So Aziraphale asks for help. They can do this.

And they do.

So we see Aziraphale through aeons, looking up to Crowley, admiring his wit, integrity, being exasperated with him, trying to keep him safe - from unreasonable requests just as much as from rash decisions and words that can have severe consequences. Aziraphale is an angel who is unlike any other. He finds himself, long before the rebellion of half the Host is a thing, in knowledge that some things should not be mentioned or suggested or criticised and he tries to stop this lovely angel he just met from getting into trouble.

Which he keeps doing for millions of years...

However. It doesn't always work. The angel falls. He is hurt and abandoned by the God who made him, and deemed unforgivable. He is threatened and punished when he just wants to be himself and Aziraphale sees all of this and loves him and tries to keep him safe and he is not always succeeding, having to make more and more difficult decisions.

And Aziraphale constantly doubts himself. Is he good enough. Is something wrong with him. We see how anxious he gets all the time. What is he doing wrong. They were never allowed to speak to each other about how they feel or even think about it. For the longest time they didn’t even know how to name their feelings I’m sure. They didn’t make any promises.

They both hope, yes but where I see people HC that Crowley doubts an angel would unconditionally love a demon (maybe he does, but I don’t really see it - I think Crowley knows very well all that talk of fiends is just a cover), I see that Aziraphale also thinks he’s not good enough. That he can’t give enough and that it’s a problem (it is too, to some fans) but if he’s ever holding back - ‘you go too fast for me Crowley’, it’s only ever to keep the demon safe.

Aziraphale thinks that their world would never allow them to be together (and he’s right) and he simply can’t agree to trying when it’s doomed to failure. If they run, how long would they have together? What kind of freedom would they have as hunted outcasts? So he keeps making these difficult decisions. And feeling guilty for them.

The hardest of which we meet at the end of Season Two.

Aziraphale meets Metatron, who is in charge of the angels and who 'invites' him to take a high position in Heaven. After Aziraphale refuses several times, Crowley is brought up in the conversation; Aziraphale apparently changes his mind (we never see him say so) and then we watch him enter his home and tell Crowley that he got an offer and ask Crowley to come with him.

And Crowley. Says no.

And all the subsequent metas focus on how Crowley was betrayed by Aziraphale's 'decision', how Aziraphale does not deserve to be loved or wanted or be forgiven by the demon.

And how does Aziraphale feel?

Does Aziraphale still think he can be forgiven?

#I'm sorry #this isn't very christmassy of me #yes #i keep saying forgiven and meaning loved #and yes it's on purpose #good omens #aziraphale #crowley #aziraphale my beloved #good omens thoughts #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #kaypost

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