#I hope more people can log on when he does now

[shikai-the-storyteller]

2 seconds after Luzu gets back on the QSMP Cellbit and half the frickin server is gonna log on and swarm him, I'm calling it now

[signedkoko]

hello, good afternoon/night!

I was wondering if you could do a vox x character (?) oneshot where the other person has royal status (something similar to stolas).

I’m interested to see if vox would change his attitude if he was interacting with someone above him, or if he would act the same as usual.

either way, I hope this makes sense and thank you so much!

Vox X Reader [Romantic]

In which you are apart of the ars goetia family, and Vox doesn't know much about royalty. Reader is genderneutral.

Being one of the 72 members of the family didn't feel special from your point of view; you were royalty, yes, but what that actually meant was beyond you

Nevertheless, you were representative of innovation, and your role as an 'aristocrat' was quite literally the most dull of all: an archivist

Your role was to document, file, or archive every piece of information that has ever existed or will exist, and to protect it all in your library

You were a vast network of knowledge, not too different from a computer

That was where you and Vox became so similar, he was certainly an impressive overlord worth meeting.

You found yourself archiving logs upon logs of his creations, of his ad campaigns, of his scandals; he was always up to something

It piqued your interest, so you were sure to note the next time you were in proximity so you could meet him

Vox didn't give two shits about royalty, but what he did care about were the opportunities it presented

It was worth being nice to them and biting your tongue, and in all honesty, he wasn't much of a hot head when it came to people he didn't know

He had files on every member of the Ars Goetia, including yours, and he'd developed a bit of a 'celebrity' crush

You seemed so like him, but he knew pictures could only say so much about a person and moved on

Both of you knew the other would be at the same event, and like magnets, you came straight to one another

Vox used his television charm to lure you in, and just like you'd hoped, it worked

He is extremely nervous around royalty because, truth be told, they really are far more powerful than he or any other overlord

Not to say he doubts himself, but he understands his limits

And being technology itself, he also knows that your ability nearly pales his technology—computers are without a doubt more capable of storing information and processing it than any human or demon ever could, but you were beyond that

That is to say, he is extremely impressed with you and asks a lot about your ability, almost hoping it'll reveal some kind of trick he could use too

Unfortunately, no tricks, but he does find you to be just as kind as he'd imagined

Ars Goetia is extremely strict about the relationships they have, but fortunately for you, you knew every rule and loophole there was to know and managed to get by with 'one of hell's strongest overlords'

He is very adaptive to rules and customs, so it's no issue impressing your family with his seemingly infinite skills

" I didn't know you knew all that, Vox. "

" Yeah! You know, I didn't either! "

He absolutely goes autopilot a lot around other royals because he does not want to cause you any trouble, but you always tell him to relax and let him know you'd never let them get in the way

The hardest decision is who is moving, and when you eventually offer to abandon your lavish lifestyle for his minimalistic city style, he does whatever he can to help you adapt.

Really, you are his prince(ss), and he will treat you like the royalty you are

" So, does this make me a prince now? "

" Are you proposing? "

One of his favourite perks is that now he can really stick it to Alastor

Not that he would ever intend on putting you in danger—even if you'd win—but let's be honest

You would win against that stupid radio demon

Oh yeah, he's proud of that too

Author's Note - I ended up doing headcanons because I felt the prompt didn't have enough for me to go off of, I apologize for disappointing!~ Even so, I hope this still catches your interest 🖤

[messrmoonyy]

-What they’re like as your bf/gf (Hcs) 18+

Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch Van Der Linde, Sadie Adler, Molly O’Shea

Request- Hi if it’s okay could I ask for some hcs of some of the gang and what they’re like dating with you? NSFW ones toooo🙈🙊 could you include Arthur, John, Dutch, Sadie, Javier and maybe any of the other girls Mary-Beth or Molly or Karen? Thank you 🙏🏻

A/N- I didn’t include Javier cause I like barely speak with him in camp or anything idk I don’t vibe with Javier tbh. And I saw my chance to word vomit my Molly brain rot and ran with it so she’s the girl I picked. Hope this is okay! Enjoy :)

Masterlist - requests are open :)

Arthur Morgan

- We’ve all seen how he was with Mary. He’d be besotted with you

- His journal would be filled with sketches of you, entries talking about how much he adores you, little notes about how you looked that day or musings about his plans for your future together.

- Definitely doodles a little heart with your initials too <3

- He’s touch starved. So he loves physical contact. A hand to your knee, your back, arm around your shoulders or your waist. He likes keeping you close.

- Brings you stuff from his little travels. Picks flowers for you, finds little trinkets for you.

- Keeps a picture of you by his bed.

- Forehead kisses!!!!!

- Kisses your hand. And kisses to your wrist. He loves when you reach up to cup his face and he can turn to press his lips against your wrist.

- He’s so much more than a tough, burly cowboy. He’s quiet, caring, considerate. And he adores you

NSFW

- takes his time. Likes to work at you until not a single tense muscle is left in your body. Worships you.

- Loves any positions where he can see your face, needs to be close enough to constantly kiss you and tell you how good you are for him

- “ there’s my girl, doin so good for me darlin “ “ jus’ like that darlin, let me take good care of ya “

- Not incredibly vocal, but the noises he does make he ensures are right by your ear.

- Refuses to finish before you ever.

- Loves to finish inside tho. He knows it’s risky, but he loves the closeness. And if he’s feeling particularly risky he’ll definitely push his come back into you with his fingers “ don’t waste it now “

- Grips The headboard.

John Marston

- he’s stupid. He really is. He’ll be head over heels for you, with you clearly reciprocating those feelings and he’d still think you didn’t like him like that.

- Like. You could kiss him and he’d still be like ‘ what are we? ‘

- When he does finally put two and two together he’ll have no shame or cautions in showing you off.

- He’s handsy. Likes coming up behind you when you’re washing dishes for Pearson to rub at your shoulders.

- Or pull you down to sit on his lap before you can even think about taking the empty spot on the log next to him by the fire.

- Overprotective. One tiny snide comment from anyone and he’s ready to start swinging.

- Definitely knows how to push your buttons and wind you up, and will do it just for fun and to get a rise outta you.

- And then spend the rest of day grovelling and apologising.

NSFW

- Loves going down on you. Like. Loves it. The man could spend hours there if you’d let him and Lord has he tried.

- Not very serious most of the time.

- Pretty vocal. And doesn’t really care if anyone’s listening either.

- Like i said, he’s handsy. His hands are restless and will grab at whatever part of you they can.

- Loves when you ride him and has absolutely made a cowgirl joke more than once.

- Will grab at your hips and guide your movements as you do. Told you he’s handsy.

- But also isn’t opposed to you on your back, legs over his shoulders. Presses kisses to your ankles and makes jokes about how good the view is.

Dutch Van Der Linde

- he’s not the most attentive of people at times. He’s constantly in his head and constantly thinking about things that aren’t you.

- But when he does allow himself time alone with you he is disgustingly charming.

- He always knows what to say, always knows the right words to have you melting into a puddle at his feet. You could be in the worst mood with him but a few whispers in your ear and it’s all forgotten.

- Has a million terms of endearment for you. My angel, my dear , my darling. He rarely ever uses your actual name, only when he’s mad.

- Loves to give you gifts, the more expensive the better. And he likes you to show them off too. He likes to show you off.

- Reads to you a lot.

- PDA is afraid of him. He doesn’t care where he is or who’s watching him, he’ll loop an arm around your waist to kiss your neck, pull you onto his lap when he’s reading beside his tent and kiss you. No shame.

NSFW

- will take his time with you but in a far different way to, say, Arthur

- He’ll edge you and overstimulate you for hours, because be gets off on the fact that you simply let him. That you obey his every command.

- Degrading and humiliating 🤝🏻 Dutch Van Der Linde

- He’s never too mean. And his degrading comments are more often than not laced with something sweet.

- Dacryphilic. 100000%. He loves watching you cry because he’s worked you into such an overstimulated mess.

- He’ll swipe your tears away or kiss them from your cheeks “ well isn’t that just a pretty sight? “ “ those tears for me, my angel? “

- Definitely has some kind of authority kink. Likes you calling him sir for sure.

- Loves you giving him head. Just loves you on your knees. It’s a power thing. And he’s a cocky son of a bitch.

- Sat back in his chair and won’t lift a damn finger to help you out, won’t even unbuckle his belt. And don’t tell me he doesn’t smoke whilst he watches you.

Sadie Adler

- She is absolutely not shy about her feelings when she finally accepts she has them.

- Shes just so sweet to you.

- Around camp she’s stuck to you like glue. Her arm is permanently around your waist or your shoulders, or her hand laced with yours and is ready to snap at any intrusive questions from anyone else about it at the drop of a hat

- Love language is gift giving. Just taken in a bounty but found a shiny lil necklace in his pocket? Well. It’s hers now. Or should I say, yours.

- If your hairs long enough she’ll braid it like hers, any excuse to be able to sit close to you and whisper sweet things in your ear.

- Would teach you how to shoot better, she wants to make sure you know how to defend yourself. but also wants the excuse to stand behind you and show you how to hold her rifle properly.

- Big spoon.

NSFW

- Sadie’s gained control over literally everything else in life, and it doesn’t change in the bedroom

- She trusts you whole heartedly but she’s not about to give up any sort of control to you for a While

- Makes sure she can see your face at all times, loves watching your face contort and relax in pleasure that she’s giving you

- Full of praise “ ain’t you just the prettiest thing? “ “ oh look at you! D’ya know how pretty you look from here? “ “ always such a good girl for me “

- Has a thing for putting her fingers in your mouth. Especially after she’s just fucked you with them.

- Having you on your knees eating her out drives her crazy. Will pull at your hair a little too hard but will soothe the sting with a thousand words of praise about how good you make her feel.

- And now hear me out. Loves to watch you. Will book you a hotel room together just so she can sit across the room and watch you touch yourself for her, encouraging you the entire time

- It’s never long before she absolutely has to have her hands on you though in the end.

Molly O’Shea

- sheeeee has some trust issues. And abandonment issues. She’s just… she’s a lot at times.

- But she is fiercely loyal and will love you with every fibre of her being

- And she wants to be loved as fiercely in return. She’ll spiral without constant reassurance “ d’you even love me anymore? “ “did I do somethin wrong? Haven’t told me you love me today “

- She knows deep down you do love her. She’s just afraid.

- She is such a romantic. She loves holding your hand, sitting close to you, doing your makeup like hers and stealing kisses in between painting your lips red

- She’ll write you sappy romantic poetry and leave you lil notes

- You’ll often overhear her gushing to other people about how in love she is too. She just loves to talk about you and how deeply she adores you.

- Likes when you give her forehead kisses.

NSFW

- Pillow princess. End of story.

- She’s not completely submissive though. She’ll tell you what she wants and what she likes

- She just wants to be taken care of okay. She needs to be taken care of.

- Makes the softest, sweetest sounds and will tell you she loves you a million times over.

- Enjoys when things just… naturally happen. Cuddling with you at night, but pushing her hips lightly back against you. Which usually ends with your hand slipping past her waistband and making her come on your fingers.

- Likes to be on top of you sometimes, simply so she can show off whilst she strips. Not to really do anything. Shes really not that much of a giver. She likes being watched. She likes to know she’s desired. And usually it ends up with you dragging her to sit on your face.

- You have to shower her with praise. She wants to know she looks beautiful, that she’s doing well, worship her. Which is incredibly easy for you cause like fucking look at her she’s gorgeous.

- Wraps herself around you when you cuddle after, legs intertwined and arms around you, head buried in your chest or neck. Pls my sweet baby needs to be held.

[okthatsgreat]

did anybody see the newest episode of danganronpa 52 lollllllll

#there is something deeply wrong with team dr im afraid #A DEATH SO SOON JESUSSSSSS where was the ult cardiologist at......... #dr52 liveblog #dr52 spoilers #lee chat

5 notes

🐻 dangronper Follow

Gonna try getting into the new season lol, I stopped watching at season 37. No spoilers please

🐻 dangronper Follow

Okay wow a lot has changed! Everything is so high tech now??? I kinda miss when they just kept it more simple and had them all locked in a school ngl but maybe thats just me liking season 1 lol. Im really liking Jiro so far Im hoping he at least makes it to chapter 3 because I really wanna know more about that guy

🐻 dangronper Follow

You've gotta be kidding.

#CHAPTER ONE? HE DIED CHAPTER ONE? #THIS IS WHY I HATE ALL OF THE NEW SEASONS SO FUCKIGN BAD #THEY ONLY CARE ABOUT SHOCK VALUE AND THEY DONT CARE ABOUT STORY #THAT DEATH MAKES NO SENSE THERE ARE YOU ACTUALLY JOKING #Im logging off.

4 notes

💀 youvegotthatrite Following

12,433 notes

🫖 nagitosleftleg Follow

just a reminder that wishing death on any of the danganronpa writers makes you a terrible person and all of your favorite danganronpa characters hate you if you do that! 🤗 this is danganronpa so a lot of them will die 🤗 that doesnt mean you get to be a dickhead to team dr 🤗 get over it! 🤗

🍳 naeggieggin Follow

oh my god can anybody in this fandom just be normal and not use this weird passive aggressive tone for every single post. the writers do not give less of a fuck and neither do the actors theyre all dealing with their own shit

#i hate this fandom istg. and stop calling them characters the flashback light doesnt make them entirely fake #theyre still actual people #with feelings #danganronpa 52

769 notes

🍀luckyguy Follow

this is NOT what ultimate hope makoto naegi would have wanted

#dr52 spoilers #lucky student killed first chapter &lt;;/3 #shut up you [txt]

4,013 notes

🔧 sorryiwasbornstupid Follow

kazuichi sighted in the new post-season promo video he looks so g.ood .... . id let him do anything to me

🌸 neverminded Following

@kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial

🔧 sorryiwasbornstupid Follow

HELLO?

34 notes

🔪 danganronpa Following

Puhuhu! New episode of DANGANRONPA 52 out TODAY at 1pm JST! Make sure to bring your popcorn and your bagels, this episode sure gets.... despairful 👀You won't wanna miss it!

🍀luckyguy Follow

K

🔱 ultscubafan Follow

U

🎆 chickencoopexplosion Follow

N

🫖 nagitosleftleg Follow

G

🎸 lightmusicplayer Following

P

9,012 notes

🍳 naeggieggin Follow

can early season purists please get their heads out of nagito komaedas ass. he does not want to fuck you

106 notes

🎞️ kirigiririririri Follow

Waiittttt Jiro is so cute actually XD He keeps tripping over his shoelaces in the background of scenes LOL he's so smol ..............

🎞️ kirigiririririri Follow

I'M GONNA KILL MYSELF

#he's DEAD?????????????????????????????????

2 notes

🍳 naeggieggin Follow

keep in mind the danganronpa actors are still real people and they can see all of you thirsting over them ok. please be normal. just because they went through the effects of the flashback light doesnt mean its ok to be a fucking weirdo to hajime whenever he walks outside

🧊 kokoroicebox Follow

They're celebrities. People are going to find celebrities attractive, especially if these are people they see on screens and billboards every day. If you pick up the nearest magazine you find you're probably going to find Junko Enoshima in it. And maybe you should consider that those "weirdos" who are walking up to Hajime are simply fans that want to greet him. We've watched these people fight through hell, cry, laugh, and find hope along the way. Of course we are going to get attached to them, especially to those of us who have been keeping up with them for a long time now. You're basically asking a bunch of teenagers to close their eyes and pretend their favorite media doesn't exist.

🍳 naeggieggin Follow

i literally did not say that

🌀 cageofdeath Follow

have you maybe ever considered that maybe some people get hyperfixations??

🍳 naeggieggin Follow

oh my fucking god.

🎸 lightmusicplayer Following

anybody in this thread smoke weed

1,034 notes

🍊 hinataorangejuice Follow

OKKKKK WAIT WHY IS RANTARO KINDA 👀👀👀

#the way he got so serious while investigating.............. #wasnt a huge fan of him at the start but he's growing on me lowkey #dr52 #danganronpa 52 #dr52 #orange speaks!

29 notes

💀 youvegotthatrite Following

JIROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

#FUFUUUCUCKKCKCCKKKCKKCKC I REALLY LIEKD HIM!!!3!@!#(!# #FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK #ORUUGH WHY COULDNT HAVE BEEN MOMO #dr52 lb

8 notes

🍧minimarruuuu Follow

no chapter 1 death is ever gonna beat sayaka imo #girl

#it just really started the series off so well and no other chapter 1 victim has impressed me tbh #ugh but idk shes kinda annoying now with all of her interviewssss like girl its ok to not smile sometimes lmfao #sayaka maizono #dr52 critical #maru.txt

11 notes

🎸 lightmusicplayer Following

guy ists ok hes not actually dead hes just sleeping guys

#guys #danganronpa 52 #danganronpa 52 spoilers #<- ??? just in case

🔍 kirigiri Following

a

🍊 hinataorangejuice Follow

ok queen speak your truth i guess

🌸 neverminded Following

THIS MIGHT BE A CLUE THIS MGIHT BE A CLUE TO JIROS KILLER IM LOOKIGNGGGGG SO HARD AT AKEMI RIGHT NOW

🎆 chickencoopexplosion Follow

i think she might have just accidentally posted a draft lol

🌸 neverminded Following

I dont know............. team dr has done this before where they leave littel clues in places and this seems a little TOO coincidental

🔍 kirigiri Following

I hit the post button too early.

🌸 neverminded Following

KYOKO KIRIGIRI?

43,033 notes

🐰monomini Follow

okkkkk im kinda over rantaro already lmao. heres hoping we dont get another season of him

1 note

[onskepa]

Left Behind: Moments

Here is another chapter of the left behind series! Hope you all enjoy!

Left behind series

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

Jake’s pov 

“So ummm…..I was told to vlog my day to day stuff. Guess to keep record of things I do and not lose my shit on this planet” Jake tells himself on camera. It has been a few hours since he woke up from his cryo sleep. His body ached, felt like a statue from not moving for 5 years. 

“This is year is 2154….those fuckers lied. It's been 7 years since I left Earth for this jungle gym crap. 7 years felt like nothing. My baby girl, probably in her preteen years right now. I wonder how she is doing. I wouldn't blame her if she hates me, no scratch that. She is incapable of hate. Maybe mad, yeah. But not hate. I want this mission to be done and over with.” 

Jake’s pov

“First day in my avatar…gotta say, it felt fucking amazing. I was able to breathe the native air! Best part, I can run! WOOHOOO! YES! Oh man, never in my life have I felt this amazing. Though I did get carried away. When I woke up in my new body, the excitement got to me. I ran almost all over the fields, the basketball court, the botanical gardens, it felt great. Almost got in trouble but grace was there to save my ass” 

“Still have to adjust to this body, grace is giving me a week to get used to it. I am not the only one though, there is a weird guy named Normal Spellman. Nerdy but otherwise cool. He is the one who studies alongside with tommy. Good pals I can only imagine. He just got his avatar too”

“I bet if my baby girl was here, she would be surprised. With everything really. Maybe a bit scared. Would enjoy it no doubt. Learn how this planet works. I cant help it. I wonder what she is doing. Is she making friends? Doing good in school? So many things. But I know the sooner I get this mission done, the sooner I get home to her” 

“Gotta rest now, got a big day tomorrow, this is Jake Sully, singing out” 

Jake’s pov 

“Colonel Quaritch, tough and kinda scary guy but he keeps people safe here. As safe as it can get on this planet. Met him in the brief meeting as a welcome home type of talk. But, weirdly enough, I admire him. He seems to know what he is doing and how to do it. Said he has a special mission for me, didn't say what yet but to expect a visit from him soon” 

“I can worry about that later. Tomorrow starts a new mission. Get samples from more remote areas of the forest. Norm was given a special task. Try to make a peaceful contact with the aliens here. Na’vi is what they are called. Grace gave me a brief on them. Some important figures too. Guess they have a system of rulers here. Like the old native tribes back on Earth. My missions is to guard and make sure grace and norm get what they need” 

“I will be honest, does not seem too bad. Was given the ok to shoot any possible threats. Practice with the guns, proud to say I have not lost my aim. It is getting late but I still have to do this. Does keep my mind busy, recalling the day’s events. I am starting to get into a routine” 

“After shutting off the camera, I look at the picture of me and my daughter. I would stare at it for a while until my eyes drop. See this? It was the day I won a little toy for her at an arcade. She was so happy. Not often was I able to give her something new. Hopefully the paychecks are getting funded for her needs. I bet she is getting nice, brand new things” 

“So many birthdays I missed. Im so sorry baby girl, but I promise, the second I go back, I will give you the biggest hug ever. Buy you all the gifts you could ever want, hell, if the pay is that good, get a better place. Maybe close to your favorite park that you like to play in. Better yet, go to the zoo like you always wanted. I know you will be much older but I dont care. You are my baby girl for life. Nothing is going to change that” 

“Guess now I better log off. Big day tomorrow, this is Jake Sully, signing off”

Jake’s pov 

“Things didn't go right during the mission and I was split up from grace and norm. A giant weird animal, thana-something called by grace, deadly, found us. Had his eyes on me, grace told me to run so I went the opposite direction of where those to were, to not get them in the crossfire. Seriously, that animal was huge, but I guess by some miracle, a bigger animal came into view. Like in those old nature documentaries, the two giants began to fight. Either way, I made a run for cause I know it was not going to end pretty” 

“I got lost along the way, had no idea where I was or how far I was from the crew. Took me sweet time though. Admiring the pretty sights that Pandora had to offer. Felt like a kid again. Everything was bright, colorful, alive. I can see why the RDA wants to use the resources here. Crazy to think that Earth was one like this. Green, healthy, breathing” 

“Of course somewhere along the way I lost myself even more, lost my gun. Had to make a spear then turn it into  a torch because night came. Now night time felt like a whole different world. Everything glowed, pretty almost neon colors illuminated the plats. Some small creatures also glowed. Sad that I couldn't appreciate it enough. Got attacked” 

“Freaking hyena looking animals, running in a pack. The fire helped create a distance as I ran but they were too many, though I was done for. My ass got saved by an unlikely person” 

Jake’s pov 

“Neytiri, princess of the Omatikaya clan. Scary lady but she saved me. Called me a baby, and told me that I have a strong heart. Stuff happened and next thing you know, I am in their home base. Word passed and neytiri was tasked to train me. Teach me their ways. I am where the RDA needs me to be. It is now only a matter of time. Give the Colonel what he wants, give grace what she wants. It is a win-win situation” 

“Still holding out on that little meeting Quaritch wants to have with me. Maybe it won't be that far, since now I am within the premise of the indigenous, I guess I need to collect more info” 

“A lot happened so to say. I gotta rest soon. If allowed, I can bring something from here, take it with me when I get back home. Pictures seem the best answer. Or something na’vi related. My little girl knows so little of what is being told about pandora. Or knew I should say. How old is she now….? Probably a preteen. Guess I dodged a bullet. I know pre-teen years are hell. No, I shouldn't say that” 

“Soon baby girl. The wait will be worth it. Like I promised. Training day begins tomorrow, so, with that, this is jake sully, signing out” 

Jake’s pov 

“I am part of the people. I am the son of the people and child of Eywa. Passing my iknimaya, taming my ikran, everything. I am na’vi. It feels unreal, hard to accept. Tsu’tey and I are brothers, wasn't that long ago he wanted to kill me, calling me ugly, but now we are at the same level” 

“They celebrated my rebirth. It was fantastic, neytiri made me dance even though I was terrible at it. The whole thing felt magical. Truly, I felt like I really belonged somewhere, being accepted. It felt nice. Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, it did get better” 

“Surprise surprise, I am now mated to neytiri. She took me to the tree of voices, telling me of how sacred and precious it is, being able to connect to their ancestors. It was beautiful. Neytiri was beautiful, still is. Taking my breath away, and my availability” 

“I wouldn't change it for anything, she is someone I have come to love with all my heart. As cheesy as it sounds, it's true. Neytiri changed me, made me better, and I have no regrets”

Jake’s pov 

“They are starting to pressure us, more like me. The RDA really want the omatikaya gone, away from their home tree. Just because it houses the materials they want. It is not easy, none of it is easy. To tell them to leave, when it's been their home for thousands of years. According to Grace, I don't doubt her. This is their home, it is us who are the aliens” 

“They are not going to leave, nothing is going to change their minds. Worst yet, I know quaritch will do drastic things to get what he wants. I was an idiot to follow him, to believe him. What he will do, knowing his tactics, he will shed blood and bullets. I need to warn neytiri, mo’at, tsu’tey. Can't believe this is coming out of my mouth, but I pray to Eywa, that she guides me. What can I do to make sure things don't go downhill” 

“I came to make good money, to finish the mission given to me and be done with. Now, I am in a moral dilemma. I am stuck” 

Jake’s pov

“I am sorry. No amount of sorry’s that I say will ever be enough for anyone. Not to neytiri, not to eytukan, not to mo’at, tsu’tey grace, norm, anyone. It will never be enough. I brought this to them, it is only right that I help. War is coming, and soon. So many na’vi died when they destroyed their home tree. Many wounded, kids, infants, innocent lives” 

“Grace and I did our best to warn them, tell them to leave. Tsu’tey was adamant to fight, their weapons useless against the valkyries. In an instant, all was gone. I wanted to apologize to neytiri, she was furious, telling me I am not one of those people. She is right. Before anything more could be done, those damn bastards forced me to pull out. Pushed me in a tight closure” 

“Quaritch, a beast he is, heartless. Keeping me locked up yet outside of my cage he dangles the picture of my little girl. Telling me it's not too late to take his side if I ever want to go back to earth and see her again. Going on about how she will react to all of this. Her father rebelling against humanity. As much as I hate to admit…”

“He is right….I dont know if I will see her again. I hate to say….sacrifices have got to be made. I'm sorry, but I have to atone my sins. Like I said, no amount of sorry’s will be enough. Not even for my little girl, I am sorry baby girl, but daddy is not coming home”

Jake’s pov 

“We won. Quaritch is dead, and unfortunately, so is Grace and tsu’tey. Both sides lost many lives. Yet that is war, but we won. Humans are no more, many left, only few remained. Sworn their loyalty to the na’vi. Only they can stay. We made many sacrifices, I made many.  Many I dont regret, or will look back to. This is the beginning of a new chapter for me. There is nothing left to hold me back, not my past, not my memories.  I am at peace with what I did” 

“Neytiri is with a child, I am excited, I am going to be a father. I cant wait when they arrive, I will be there, welcoming my son or daughter into a new world of peace. First born, neytiri likes to say it over and over.  She is not wrong, our first child together in a new era of peace” 

“However there is still one thing left to do. A grand celebration is going to be held” 

“This I look forward to, many are coming together for it. It is my birthday after all, can't miss my own party. So, one last time. This is Jake Sully, the human, signing out. For good” 

Third pov

A young girl looks at the last vlog of her father, Jake Sully, eyes wide as she takes in what she just saw. This was a side she never knew, nor did she think it would be hidden.  

She clenches her hands into a fist tightly, gritting her teeth, her body shaking in fury. Hot tears streaming down her face, not knowing whether to cry in sadness or scream in anger. So many emotions mixed, creating a tornado in her mind. 

Hearing a door open behind her, she turns to glare at the man. 

“Why….” was all she could say before breaking down.

Aaaaaaaaaaand that is it for this chapter of the ongoing series! This one I chose to have only jake be the main point, his vlogs. See how his mind changes, perspective and what lead to the final choice. Trust me, this will come back for future chapters. So until next time! See ya!

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[sky-scribbles]

There are a lot of things to love about the SSV Normandy. It’s a symbol of cooperation between two species historically at odds. It’s a miracle of engineering, a technological masterpiece that could alter every pattern of space warfare. Its crew is the highest calibre that the Alliance has to offer, bolstered by multispecies allies: an emblem of flying hope.

It also has far, far too many flashing lights. Everywhere.

One hand pressed to the wall to keep himself steady, the other pressed against his forehead as if that’s going to do any good, Kaidan shuffles down the hall toward the med bay. Every light panel and display interface feels like a laser drill boring directly through his eyes, sounds reverberate against the inside of his skull, and his sense of balance is a distant, pleasant memory. Kaidan sucks in a tight breath between his teeth. It’s going to be okay. He can do this. He’s done it before.

He drags himself the last few feet, and the med bay doors slide open. Kaidan opens up his omni-tool – god, why are those so bright, too? – and does what he’s done a hundred times, scanning the medical interface so that the med system logs him. Doctor Chakwas isn’t here, which means she’s on her rest shift, but that’s fine. The med system will alert her if there’s a problem.  

Kaidan, turns, so ready to collapse into the nearest med bed – except he can’t. Because there’s someone already in it.

‘Oh,’ he says. ‘Hey, Tali.’

‘Hey, Lieutenant.’ She still seems shy about using his first name. Maybe it’s a habit from being raised on board ships, or maybe she’s just not sure if she’s allowed. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I will be once the pain meds kick in.’ Kaidan makes it to the next bed along and finally, finally lies down and shuts his eyes. ‘Doctor Chakwas is just… pretty strict about me coming here whenever a migraine kicks in. Just in case it’s a sign of something going wrong with my implant.’

Through the fog of everything hurts, it finally surfaces in his brain that Tali in the med bay is… that’s bad, right? ‘What about you? Are you, you know –?’

Okay, he’s not sure how to finish that sentence. There’s probably not a polite way to say hey, are you here because you’ve picked up a fatal illness?

He cracks one eye open, just enough to see her looking glumly at him. He’s not sure how he can tell that she’s glum when all he can see is her eyes, but yeah. She’s glum. ‘You know how I took a hit on Feros?’

‘Yeah.’

‘And how I disinfected it, and used my patch kit on the suit breach, and told Shepard I was fine?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I was not fine.’ She slumps down miserably. ‘My throat is full of painful slime, my sinuses are on fire, and my halesh –’ Okay, that’s obviously some piece of quarian anatomy – ‘is more gummed up than I can describe.’

Kaidan shuts his eyes again. ‘Well, my skull feels like it’s slowly contracting and crushing my brain, so… I sort of feel you.’

She laughs weakly. ‘I should have run an extra med scan once I got back to the Normandy. I just – I wanted to help with the engine maintenance today. And there’s this combat drone design I’m working on. And now…’ There’s a sound of movement; Kaidan gets the impression that she’s gesturing at the med bay in angry helplessness.

‘I feel that too.’ And he does. He really does. This isn’t the worst migraine he’s ever had – he can actually hold a conversation, which some days would be beyond him. But it’s… it’s not great. And he had things to do. Ash was running a drill and wanted him to look over her plans. He had a cleaning shift at fourteen hours. Shepard wanted to talk strategy for Noveria.  And yes, he knows he has a right to take time off for a medical issue. He knows he’s no use to Ash or Shepard or anyone when he can’t even walk in a straight line. But knowing that doesn’t quite get rid of the squirm in his belly, the one that feels like letting people down.

Tali’s quiet for a minute, aside from the ever-present, barely-audible hum of her suit systems, and the occasional sniff from behind her helmet. Then she says, unexpectedly, ‘I’m just… I’m so tired. You know what I mean?’

Kaidan’s head throbs. He swallows. ‘Oh, yeah.’

The constant vigilance. Always having to be careful about where he goes – is this room too bright? Is this one too loud? – in case something triggers another bad spell. Taking hits to the head in a fight that anyone else could just shrug off, but that for him mean another trip to the med bay to make sure his implant isn’t damaged. Trying to do his job and suddenly finding, no, he can’t, because his body has decided that today’s the day he just doesn’t get to function.

Tali… she must go through the same awful deal, just in a different flavour. Always being careful, so careful. Someone else’s minor injury being her okay, let’s get a med check to make sure I won’t die. It’s not the same, of course: Kaidan can eat food without filtering it, touch people without protective layers, see people’s faces without a tinted mask. Still… there’s a tone in her voice that he knows from his own.

There’s a heavy silence. Then Tali says, ‘You know what’s really stupid? I left my datapad in my cabin, so I can’t even watch vids.’

Kaidan smiles. He’s seen her down in Engineering, a few times, hands flying around over the machinery, rocking back and forth on her heels. Idleness obviously doesn’t suit her. ‘You can borrow mine, if you like.’

‘Really?’ Her voice is already brighter. ‘I mean – won’t the noise will make you feel worse?’

‘Nah, I’ll be good.’ He’s not just saying it; there’s a blissful numbness creeping through his head which means that his meds are finally getting to work. He fishes the datapad from his pocket, taps in his passcode, and hands it over. ‘What kind of vids do you like?’

Her whole being perks up – tone, body, everything. ‘Oh, all of them.Any genre, any species. I mean… asari vids can be a bit long. I mean, they’re made by people who can spend a decade making a vid and a whole day watching it. Turians… their vids can be a bit depressing. There’s a lot of ‘this war ended with almost everyone dead, but one turian is still standing, so it’s a victory!”

‘What about quarians? What kinds of stories do your people tell?’

A small laugh echoes inside the helmet. ‘Quarian vids are pretty limited by environment. We don’t have a lot of varied sets to work with. So we tell the best long-running dramas. There’s one ship in the Flotilla that’s been hosting the same series for over eighty standard years now. Following the crew as they change over time, that sort of thing.’ She taps the base of her helmet. ‘It’s pretty good, but… I think if you watched it, you’d think there were a lot more explosions, murders and shipwide romantic entanglements in the Flotilla than there actually are.’

‘Human dramas are like that too.’

Tali laughs. ‘Quarian dramas make human dramas look relaxed.’

Kaidan finds he’s actually able to grin. ‘So what do human vids tell you about us?’

Her helmet tilts as she considers. ‘That you’re very individualistic. I mean, not every human culture. But you put a lot of focus onto characters and personal journeys.’ She scrolls down the datapad screen – looking through vid lists, presumably – then stops. It’s hard to tell, but Kaidan thinks she might be frowning. ‘I did notice… in a lot of human media, the biotics are…’

Another insistent pulse of pain through his temples. Kaidan sighs. ‘Crazy extremists?’

‘Yes. Do you… do you mind if I ask why that is?’

‘No, it’s fine.’ Kaidan turns onto his back and stares up at the dim ceiling. ‘A lot of the early generation of biotics, the ones who got the same implants as me… let’s just say I got off lightly. Most ended up with much more serious medical conditions. And when people found out about the side effects of the L2 implants, the media got the bit between its teeth and –’ Yeah, no, that wasn’t going to translate. ‘Sorry. Human saying. They got a certain impression, and they ran with it.’

Tali’s quiet for several seconds. Kaidan twists his head to face her, and sees the pale eyes behind the mask giving him a long, steady look.

‘I’m sorry,’ she says. And then, after a moment, ‘They tell lies about us, too.’

Kaidan holds her gaze, and feels terribly, achingly sad. ‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘I bet they do.’

 The way people look at Tali as she walks through the Presidium… it’s familiar. Not quite the same. There’s a note of scorn in the looks they give to Tali – but there’s suspicion, too, and that’s something he knows. All the times back on Earth, after he got back from Jump Zero, when he shook someone’s hand or opened a door, and their eyes found the implants. They way they stared at him like he was a loaded gun. All the documents he had to fill out to do anything, the knowledge that any government he lived under would always be hovering a few steps away, keeping tabs, making sure.

Remembering Rahna – remembering that obvious, instinctive fear in her eyes – is an old memory now, the kind that’s a faded scar. But he remembers the shock of it, back when he was seventeen. When no one had looked at him like that before, and it was dizzying and new and felt like a hole in his gut.

He bets Tali has that hole in her gut all the time.

Kaidan pushes himself up a little – which makes his brain spin, but he manages it – and gives Tali a smile. ‘Well. Let’s look for something that gets us both right.’

‘Definitely.’ She flicks through the options for a minute more, then pauses. ‘Have you ever seen Fleet and Flotilla?’

‘I think I’ve heard of it.’ There’s a faint memory of seeing an ad for it, maybe, and thinking it was the kind of thing he’d have loved as a kid. Space exploration. Justice. Love. ‘The… war romance, right?’

‘Yes!’ Tali’s legs bounce. ‘It’s – keelah, it’s so good, it’s – it’s about this girl, Shalei, who’s on her pilgrimage. And she’s interested in the geth, because she’s got this dream of finding a way to defeat them and take back the Homeworld, right? And when she finds something, she goes to the Citadel for help, but no one will listen except this one turian called Bellicus –’

‘Hold up. Wasn’t that… exactly what you were doing when we met you? Minus the turian, I mean.’

Tali ducks her head, suddenly shy. ‘I… I really, really like the vid.’

No kidding. Kaidan smiles. ‘So let’s watch it.’

His head still feels like a bombsite, and when he thinks about all the things he wants to be doing for his crew and isn’t, the rest of him hurts too. But maybe he’s still doing something for his crew, sitting in the med bay with his sick squadmate – his sick friend – and sharing her favourite vid with her. Maybe he’s doing something for him, too. He doesn’t do that too often.

Tali props the datapad up on the table between their beds, her whole body one big smile. ‘You’re going to love this,’ she promises, and presses play.

[euphoricfilter]

𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟔

it’s been 14 days, no action? :(

tags/ warnings: game designer! jungkook || non-idol au || established relationship || angst || slight comfort? || bro gets no action || he’s just sad

word count: 1k

notes: no taglist ‼️

☆ epic callob with @bonny-kookoo 💕 ☆

☆ series masterlist

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

It’s silent in the car, aircon blasting as Jungkook just sits there staring at the dashboard of his car.

When he glances over at the clock it sinks in that you’re not coming back downstairs.

It had been an hour.

Which he knows is enough time for reality to settle in for you, that if you wanted out it would have been decided by now and he’d be driving the both of you home. Reality sinks in, yet he can’t bring himself to start the ignition just quite yet. The smallest sliver of hope that any moment now you’d open the door to the lobby, and he’d already be there waiting for you.

His phone lays open on your chat, last messages from over a week ago. No sign of you typing to message him saying you made a mistake wanting to stay at a friend’s house for the night. No ‘I miss you’, no ‘I love you’.

He swallows, fingers tapping against the steering wheel as he knocks his head back against the seat.

“Shit” he whispers, tongue pressing into his cheek.

The streetlights blur behind a veil of tears, slipping down his cheeks as his bottom lip quivers.

His feet tap against the floor as he tries to swallow down a sob, ugly ache blossoming within his chest. He wonders if it’s fully due to you not being with him tonight, or if it was partially the fact the last couple of weeks had been the most stressful of his life. So many fickle emails and bratty clients. His mind melted after minimal hours of sleep, locked up in that crappy office of his for more hours than he had ever wished for.

Or if maybe partial to the fact that he could feel the both of you slipping further away from one another, your fingers slipping from between his. Sticky vines that tied your souls together slowly unfurling until you’d slipped from his side, pretty flower of your existence slowly wilting, where all he can do is watch. So caught up with what other people needed of him, that not only had he neglected himself, but you too.

His phone screen glares at him, another minute ticking by on the clock. He snatches it off the seat, hand running over his jaw as his mind cranks back to life.

He sits there for a moment, ‘I miss you’

He shakes his head. He doesn’t want to guilt trip you to come home.

His tongue runs over his bottom lip, eyebrows furrowing in the slightest. Fingers tapping away on the screen, game of battle ship sending into the chat.

He stares at it, body prickling with anticipation, hope firm in his chest as he waits.

It can’t be more than a couple of minutes before you’re accepting the game, always a lot better than him at it. Though he didn’t mind losing this time if it meant any meagre sort of interaction with you. The small truce with whatever you had going on mending that little crack in his fragile soul.

It’s when you’re half way through the game does he get the notification.

‘14 days without logging in, no action? :(‘

His shoulders slump forwards a little, quickly swiping out of the game you were playing to check on his app.

His feet patter against the floor as it loads, impatience seeping from every fibre of his being as it opens. His fingers are quick to flick through each of the columns, mouth tipping open a little wider as he catches sight of his score.

Third place too. Not even second. Third.

20 orgasms behind schedule, utterly awful that he would ever neglect you of that, even if it weren’t intentional.  

“Oh hell no” he cries, tears clinging to his lashes. His head tips forward, heart hammering against his chest when he startles himself, loud ring of the car horn echoing off each of the houses of the street. He sits up with wide eyes, peering out the window beside him, eyes focusing on your friend’s apartment. Suddenly embarrassed at the prospect of him waiting outside in hopes of you changing your mind.

He’s quick to swipe back into your chat, quick to play his turn of the game before he’s opening his browser.

He scrolls through each of the tabs, patting around the passenger’s seat for his glasses. He fumbles to turn the small overhead light on, hand brushing through his hair as he finds the tab he was looking for.

He wouldn’t be paid for another week, the flights staring back at him from his phone. Realistically if the both of you didn’t indulge for the week, then it would be fine, price for the both of you sending his bank balance reeling.

He swallows down the thought of all the money that’s about to go out of his account, false reassurance that it would all be worth it by the time he gets paid for all the work he’d put in over the last couple of weeks.

“It’s okay” he whispers, fingers tightening around his phone. He pauses, tapping open his banking app to make sure he wasn’t about to go into the negatives because the universe knows you would berate him beyond belief if you ever found out he was in the negatives.

He doesn’t think about it, fingers pressing against the screen, janky wheel of the booking website taking longer than he would have liked to spin. A short puff of reassurance dissipating from his chest when the confirmation email comes through: two plane tickets for the both of you. That, and with the Airbnb all booked, Maria having confirmed that it was totally okay for the both of you to go as wild as you liked over your stay in her place, even offering to stock it up with snacks for the first night you’re there, Jungkook’s plan was finally underway.

Only a little while longer, countable sleepless nights, ongoing projects that had become the bane of his existence almost ready to be sent off onto some other poor sucker before it’s even thought to be released.

Months of planning, months of stress and hurt and utter shit. Yet he could see it, the moment both of your hearts reach out for one another again, bodies warm pressed together, unbridled love shared through gentle kisses. Everything back to how he liked it before life had become too hectic.

[chaosandstardust]

First off, I really hope James Somerton is OK. And I fully intend for this to be my last post about him, at least until we hear news.

The conversation around this is around Hbomberguy's 'responsibility' over this. Which, he has none. If James chooses to take his own life, that is his decision at the end of the day. That is not hbomb's fault. I know that sounds harsh, but as a person who used to have a 'friend' who would constantly tell me that they were going to kill themselves if I didn't talk them out of it, I maintain that it's not his fault.

The narrative around it being his fault really just screams to me: how dare you call out a creator for causing harm? Don't you understand that you're causing harm? You need to be more responsible with your platform.

But I just rewatched the video today, and Hbomb is absolutely fair in his criticism. Harsh? Yes, extremely. But he's fair. He also goes out of his way to say that we should not be harassing James and nobody should go after him. And I've been in the Hbomb subreddit, there are very clear rules about posting about James (and they had died down before the second apology happened).

When people bring up larger creators responsibility, it always just seems to this abstract concept that nobody can really pin down. But what about James's responsibility for his behaviour? James was called out multiple times, not only by members of his audience but also by the writers he stole from. Clearly he wasn't going to stop unless it became impossible to ignore.

"Well, hbomb knows how the internet works! People were going to harrass him!" Well, so does James Somerton. He knew the risk he was taking, he knew that people were noticing the plagiarism, and yet he continued to do it. Plus being misogynistic and spreading misinformation on top. (And as pointed out by a lovely person in the replies, he regularly sent harassment campaigns against people who called him out.)

In his patreon post about making his video, Todd in the Shadows describes how this was basically an open secret among a lot of video essayists. If this was just going to remain an open secret among creators, isn't that also an irresponsible use of their platform? Shouldn't the audience of a creator be made aware of their bad behavior? Shouldn't creators hold each other accountable?

Again. I hope James is okay. I hope he logs off the internet for good. But it is not Hbomb's fault, and the answer of "well Hbomb shouldn't have done it because now James may kill himself" just feels manipulative to me. Like did y'all want him to just continue letting James steal from other creators?

[fuctacles]

For @steddielovemonth day 12th prompt by @acasualcrossfade

M | 1383 | cw: trans pregnancy | modern AU, ftmEddie

Steve wakes up and does the first logical thing that all people do. Checks his phone.

He blinks at the bright screen trying to decipher his notifications and sighs when he realizes the group chat is flooded with messages. It’s nothing new, although it never hit 99+ before. He scrolls up to catch up with whatever his friends have been up to at night. Wonders if he’s the only one that uses nighttime for rest.

He’s groggy with sleep and as he passes through the chat log, he’s struggling to make sense of the messages he’s seeing.

>>How about a gender-neutral one?

>>I vote Elrond!

>>WHO’S GONNA BE THE GODPARENTS

He scrolls and scrolls and finally reaches The Photo. And things, unfortunately, start to make sense. 

It’s a photo of a pregnancy test.

He immediately goes to his chat with Eddie. Tries to type a message, fails, and hits the call button. It takes a considerable amount of time for Eddie to pick up.

“The fuck do you want?” he growls upon answering, voice thick and distant. Steve clearly just woke him up but he couldn’t give two shits about it right now.

“Why didn’t you tell me first? Wait, is it not mine? No, wait, you can tell whoever you want, of course, but, is it mine?”

“What?” Eddie sounds tired and angry which, fair, it’s 7 AM, not his usual waking hour.

“We skipped the condom a couple of times, but you said it’s not possible, not with all the hormones you’re taking. I’m not mad, I’m not panicking, I just need to know.” Okay, maybe he was panicking a bit, but not bad panicking. It’s just not something he’s prepared for. Is he ready to be a dad? Would Eddie want him to be the dad? Would Eddie want to be a dad? Would he even want to—?

“Shit, fuck, do you want it? Are you okay with your body doing… this? Are you okay?”

“Okay, deep breath, please.” Eddie sounds much more awake now and Steve follows his instruction, anxiously awaiting answers. “I’m not okay; I feel, frankly, betrayed by my body, but I think we’re talking about two different things. Why did you call me? So early, may I add?”

Eddie’s calm. So Steve can be as well. He breathes in and out.

“I saw the group chat. The photo?” He bites his lip. Maybe Eddie hoped he wouldn’t see it at all?

“What? Hold on.”

Steve holds, listening to the shuffling on the other end. He hears the springs on Eddie’s bed creak and thinks it’s finally time to get him a new mattress. Or, if Eddie is up to it, move in together.

He flinches when the soft shuffling of the bedspread is broken by a loud snort, followed by manic laughter. 

Wasn’t it too early for mood swings?

“Stevie, baby,” Eddie finally wheezes out.

“Yes?” He perks up, eager for answers and hopeful from hearing the pet name. 

“Please put on your glasses and look at the photo again,” is all Eddie says, before bursting back into laughter. 

Steve frowns but reaches for his glasses, resting on their usual spot on his bedside table. Once secured on his nose, he opens the chat again and goes straight to the media folder to open the photo in question. He squints his eyes at it.

It’s a covid test, clear as day.

“You’re not pregnant,” he deadpans.

“Nope. Just good old corona.”

“Shit.”

Steve falls on his pillow, completely drained from the emotional rollercoaster. He thinks about calling in sick. He’s too humiliated to show his face to the world and, besides, how is he supposed to teach kids when he’s such a dumb idiot himself?

“And, for the record,” Eddie continues once his chuckles subside, unaware of Steve’s inner turmoil. “I would tell you first, and it would be yours. It’s just been you for a while and I’ve never fucked without a condom before.”

Steve did not know that. He slaps a hand over his mouth so no embarrassing sounds come out at the revelation.

“But yeah, it wouldn’t be possible on my current hormone cocktail. And I don’t think I’d ever be prepared for a little alien growing inside me. It’s one thing to say fuck gender norms for one day and wear a dress and another to completely overturn my body’s ecosystem for a year, maybe more, without turning back.”

“Yeah,” Steve nods because that’s all he can do. He knows a lot about Eddie’s body by this point, but possible pregnancy is not something that comes up in daily conversations.

“Besides, I’ve been talking with my doctors about getting an oophorectomy, so that will be off the table soon anyway.”

Steve frowns, not liking the sound of that but not wanting to assume anything. Again.

“What’s that?” he asks instead.

“Ovaries removal,” Eddie answers easily. “So the hormones they produce don’t fuck with my T shots.”

“Huh.” It will never cease to both anger and amaze Steve how much trans people have to go through to be themselves. “Makes sense, I guess.”

“Mhm. How are you feeling?”

Steve frowns at his ceiling.

“Me? You’re the one with covid.” The fact suddenly, finally, sinks in. “Shit, how long will you be quarantined?”

“Just a week, don’t worry. But I’m asking because you kind of deflated there.”

Steve huffs. 

“My boyfriend has covid, of course I’m—”

“No, I mean, are you disappointed you didn’t put a baby in me?”

Steve chokes on saliva and air, and has to sit up on his bed to take a proper breath.

“Eddie,” he wheezes out in a warning, his face going beet red.

“Are you?” he presses.

“I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Open cards, baby. It’s not on the table, but I won’t be mad if you want it.”

Steve sighs. He worries this kind of thing might break their relationship. It was a topic he avoided, not only with Eddie, but with others he dated before him. Not many people their age are ready for kids talk, for a commitment like that.

“Yeah. Sorry.” Sorry if it’s a deal breaker.

“Don’t be sorry. Nothing bad about wanting to knock up your boyfriend.”

“Eddie.” This time his warning comes with an amused breath.

“What? Just because I won’t do it doesn’t mean I can’t play along.” He can hear him smirk from the other end of town where Eddie’s apartment is. “It’s no condom town, baby, from now on. I want all your cum inside, pushing it deeper with your fingers when you pull out. I’ll keep it inside while we watch TV. And then we’ll go again and again until it catches. Until you give me the baby you want so much.”

Steve whines, eyes closed and imagination running wild.

“Shit, I’m so wet. Didn’t know I have a breeding kink. Huh.”

“Jesus Christ Eddie, you can’t do this to me at the beginning of your quarantine!”

“Well, you’re the one who brought up kids! Which, I think we should have a serious talk about once I’m back in the world.”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, and presses his eyes closed with resignation. He should have seen it coming. He loves Eddie, which is exactly why he’s been avoiding the topic of a future together, of kids, of a family.

“Yeah, sorry I’ve been holding back but I think I’m ready to make this serious if you are.”

Steve makes a sound. Questioning and confused because it’s all he can give him now.

“I know it’s a long shot, but we could adopt, or find a surrogate. I can wear a belly if it does it for you? Dunno, we’ll figure something out. If you want to, of course.” He’s rambling, which is a sure sign that he’s being sincere.

“I want to,” Steve assures him quickly. He is so relieved, so excited and full of love, that he’s about to cry. “I love you so much.” And there it is, his voice is already shaking, eyes wet.

“I love you too, baby,” Eddie coos back. “Now, can we get back to the horny part? I know you have to get up for work soon.”

Steve laughs at that, hand promptly sliding down his body.

“Yeah, let’s.” 

[gretavanbear]

All Eyes on Me

a/n: hey guys! just a little something for u since i love u guys and got inspired. i hope u enjoy <;3

NSFW 18+!

Jake Kiszka POV

the feeling of having all eyes on you was something you became obsessed with. of course, sharing the stage with your three brothers took a part of it away, but you always knew how to get the attention right back. it became one of the most rewarding feelings for you, having everyone needy and wanting.

and so you became a monster once those eyes tracked your every movement. you felt lucky they couldn’t hear you, because the animalistic groans that left your lips as you touched the strings and caressed your guitar would leave them a fucking mess.

tonight, the air felt different. you were in europe, feeling frisky. you knew your fans were expecting you to act different, with the moustache you’d been growing out the entire break off tour.

you had been playing extremely hard tonight, your mouth almost constantly open to let your ragged breaths out, the slight moans escaping your lips as your cock rubbed against your guitar ever so gently. you knew how much they liked it, seeing you all sweaty like this, wanting to taste the sweat that travelled down your chest.

you knew how much they wanted it.

your mind went blank once you raised the guitar to your face, sticking your tongue out and pressing it against the whammy bar.

yeah.. scream for me. you thought.

you heard the roar of the crowd as you bobbed your head against it, letting the sound of it travel around the arena, knowing how it’ll affect them.

you felt yourself throbbing in your satin pants, hoping the stain of your precum wouldn’t show through the material, luckily the show was almost over and your sweet relief was awaiting for you soon in your hotel room.

-

stepping out of the shower, you sighed whilst brushing your hair after drying yourself off. still rock hard from earlier. you had edged yourself a couple times under the water but you wanted to know what they thought of your little act.

you laid down in your comfortable hotel bed, fully naked in your favourite attire to please yourself this way.

you turned your phone on and pressed the ‘x’ app, logging on to your burner account. it had no followers, and a random username where no one could guess it’s you.

usually, you’d look through your bookmarks where you kept your favourite posts that people wrote about you, mostly about your body, the way you touch the guitar.

but tonight, you had given them something to talk about.

scrolling through your timeline, a video of you with the guitar against your face was all you could see.

user: “i wish i was that guitar”

yeah… i wish you were too..

you grabbed the base of your cock, caressing it with your fingertips softly grabbing it, teasing yourself a little.

user: “he definitely knows what he’s doing”

so, can you see through my little act? god i love the way you all want me..

your eyes fluttered shut as your hand movements increased, gripping yourself a little harder now.

user: “he knows how to use his tongue doesn’t he”

i do… fuck..

you threw your head back, moans escaping your lips as you began to fuck into your hand, thinking about the way you acted, the way they all loved it.

user: “does he know I’m a set of holes for him”

god damn.. why don’t you let me find out, hm?

you never had anyone specific in mind when reading these, just knowing someone was out there wanting you was enough. you could feel your orgasm approaching but you wanted more, you wanted to keep going. you slowed down your hand movements and stroked slowly, scrolling through more posts.

user: “he’s literally tongue punching his guitar on stage when is it my turn”

door’s unlocked babe..

fuck. they just get you, don’t they? they know you love it, they know you love basking in their attention. it fed you. the horribly horny monster that resides inside you, waiting to be teased.

user: “i need him to fuck me NOW”

have i got you all wet and dripping for me, honey? oh i’m sure i have..

you groaned as your orgasm took over, you were desperate now. fucking into your hand as your cum leaked all over your fingers, hitting your chest and a part of your neck. you really needed this. you breathed out a string of curses as the final drops of cum leaked over your hand.

“fuck..” you giggled to yourself as you looked at the mess you caused.

you knew you could always count on your fans to treat you right.

taglist :

@sarakay-gvf @positivegvfthings @brokenbells11 @krystalm98 @shutupdevvie @milkgemini @jordierama @​​maddie-van-fleet @writingcold @gretavanfleas @jakes-eyebrows @spark-my-nature @lek-gvf @rad-space-princess @joshkiszkatoothgap @hippievanfleet @objectsinspvce @gvfficrecs @ageoffleet @welllauragvf @weightofstar @groupiegirlie08 @fwzco @nicoleghost18 @andromeda-raine-gvf @sarrrahhh @ren-ni @zoe-tally06 @hellowgoodbye @aminaalilyy @spinthehemmo @hippievanfleet @streamofgvf @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @brokenbells11 @gvfpal @gvfmarge @jakeygvf21 @Timeless—classics @mackalah @myleftsock @bubblyjake @valvebone @lexii-nv-c @mp0801 @hellowgoodbye @girldonttryme @risingwiththeheatabove @fakeplastiqtree @beckahvanfleet @lunaaaat

[milaisreading]

Good day~

Sorry for sending you my request during submission box, Tumblr glitched. So I resend this. As I said, I reeeeeally like your blue lock headcanons! Bullock manager is such an adorable idea. So if you don't mind, can I as you for some more headcanons about blue lock boys simping for their manager?

Have a great day, I wish you a lot of inspiration!~

Thanks for the request! No need to apologize, also sorry in advance I can usually only write HCs with scenarios, soo this might be long. Hope u enjoy it🩷

Pairing: Blue Lock x Reader

Warning ⚠️: none in particular tbh. Reader uses she/her here and manga spoilers Ig

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

Today was like any other at Blue Lock, you had Ego roasting everyone, (Y/n) and Anri trying to get him to eat something healthy and the boys doing their own thing with training. By now it was lunch time and the players along with (Y/n) were sent to eat as Anri and Ego went through some papers and plans for the upcoming trainings, as well as the match with the U-20 team.

'I am so hungry... Bachira kept me away from eating the whole morning. Why did he ask me to watch his dribbling even?!'

The girl blinked as she walked towards the cafeteria, cringing as she heard loud screaming from her friends.

"I am not dealing with this today. I think Ego-san has left some unattended yakisoba in the fridge." The girl said with a bittersweet smile. As much as they were annoying at times, she held the team close to her heart.

'They are good guys... but I am not dealing with their shenanigans today.'

Now the cafeteria wasn't like this the whole time, since 20 minutes ago it was very quiet and the boys were honestly minding their own business. Well that was until Nagi logged into his phone and saw a rather peculiar post. He raised his eyebrow in disgust as he read the caption on the post.

'Going to meet this cutie soon🩷'

"How did Oliver Aiku get a picture of our manager?" Nagi whispered to Reo, who was sitting next to him. The question caused his friend to spit out his drink and look at Nagi in shock and confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"He posted this... now that I look at the picture more, it could be the one when she went to help out during a JFU press conference."

"Give me that!"

Nagi let Reo take his phone, while he was seething on the inside.

'Now I regret not sneaking off that day. With my frame nobody would have gotten a picture of her.'

"This can't be for real... Oliver Aiku, the biggest player Japan witnessed!" Reo groaned, catching the attention of Aryu and the former Team Z members.

"What is it with Oliver Aiku?" Aryu asked, walking over to the table.

"Don't tell me you are afraid of playing against him." Chigiri teased.

"It's not that... just look." Reo groaned, showing Aryu the post. The boy stopped playing with the ends of his hair when he read the post, looking in horror at the pro-player's post.

"Not him of all people! We need to keep (Y/n) as far away as possible! He is too ugly to be in her presence. "

"I know! But how?"

"This is such a hassle... can I just hit him in the head with the ball or something?"

"What is this about (Y/n)? And what does Aiku have to do with her?" Baro questioned, the cafeteria now completely silent when they mentioned the girl's name.

"Oliver Aiku seems to have some interest in her. Look." Aryu sighed, giving Baro the phone. The long haired boy sat down as what was left of Team Z approached them.

"What do you mean? How does he even know about her?" Bachira pouted, while Kunigami and Gagamaru were on high alert.

"This isn't good, we can't let that bastard near her." Isagi added as Chigiri nodded his head.

"Especially with his history with women... Yeah, (Y/n) is way better off not knowing him." Otoya added, a little annoyed that the pro-player knew of their manager.

"So what's the plan? It's not like all of us can stay around her all the time."

"Are we fighting?" Kurona and Karasu came, curious as to what they are supposed to do.

"We can't really do that. There will be a lot of cameras, and with Oliver Aiku being as popular as he is, they will follow every move." Yukimiya said, adjusting his glasses as the rest groaned. Rin kept quiet as he searched for the said post to see it with his own eyes, and sure enough it was there. What made it worse in Rin's eyes was that even his own brother, Itoshi Sae liked it. That pretty much set a blaze of anger off and Rin got up from his seat.

"Well that's the only option we have. Some of us will be on the bench or be called for a switch. We need to keep that guy away from (Y/n)." Rin said to the group, who all nodded their heads.

"Alright then! It's settled, we are doing our best to win against the U-20 and keep Aiku away." Isagi said after he finally calmed Bachira down.

"Of course. Can you imagine that asshole near (Y/n)?" Baro tsked, not liking that image in the slightest.

"Right! (Y/n) is so sweet and kind, Aiku is totally not for her." Aryu sighed as the others nodded along.

"Right, she is suited for someone like me." Otoya added suddenly, earning glares from his fellow teammates.

"Hell no! (Y/n) doesn't even know you that well! I am more her type, she is so calm and collected, perfect for me!" Bachira said, sending a warning glare to the white/green-haired boy.

"Her type? Bachira you are rough and wild, there is no way (Y/n) will want to be with you. Me on the other hand, I am the perfect gentleman." Chigiri said smugly. Kunigami rolled his eyes at the redhead's comment along with Gagamaru.

"Then I am the perfect candidate, also physically I am superior too, who else will protect her when it's necessary."

"Now when we talk about physique, I am far superior than you are. My queen would be much happier with me." Baro said, getting into Kunigami's face.

"Well, (Y/n) might not be into muscles. Besides, with the way she is always so kind and sweet to me, I am sure I am winning."

Isagi's comment irritated Rin and the younger Itoshi got into his face now.

"You winning next to me? We all know the best striker wins here, and that is me. Keep your hands off of her."

"You all are acting as if I am not in the clear win here, after all I am the richest. I could offer (Y/n) anything her heart desires." Reo added with a pout as Nagi shook his head.

"I think she would prefere a calm and quiet life. So I am the ideal partner there, you lose."

"Nagi, shut up!"

"I think (Y/n) and I would be a good match too. She looks happy when talking to me." Gagamaru commented while his face turned red.

"That's in her glamorous nature, Gagamaru." Aryu added while sighing.

By now the whole cafeteria was in total chaos, a mix of arguments over who the better match for (Y/n) was or singing praises about the girl.

Outside, (Y/n) and Hiori were playing rock, paper, scissors on who will yell at them to stop.

"What even started the argument?" (Y/n) asked, sighing at her loss as the boy shook his head.

"I don't know. I was practicing my dribbling and then came to you." Hiori said, blushing a little at the closeness.

'She smells really sweet today~'

As the day of the U-20 and Blue Lock 11 match approached, (Y/n) grew more and more anxious, hoping the boys will be able to handle the pressure. The whole of Japan was watching and she did her best to be on the call as soon as one of her friends needed help. Barely paying attention to anyone outside of her team, (Y/n) never noticed how every time Aiku tried to approach her or how one of the boys, usually Baro or Kunigami would whisk her away or glare at the player.

[tearsonmarz]

Scarian Flirting and Fishing pt. 1

“Are you alright?” Raising his head Grian looked up to see a guy with brown hair and muddy green eyes examining at him.

“I’m fine.” He brushed off, going through the items he had acquired in the past hour. “Where did a put that flint and— ah!” Muttering to himself- trying to not pay any mind to the weird guy watching over him- he lit a fire and began to prepare his lunch.

“You don’t exactly seem fine.” Grian shot a look at him before rolling his eyes and going back to his cooking. The brunette cleared his throat before walking towards him.

“What are you doing?”

“Your logs seemed a little out of place. Wouldn’t want to burn yourself now, would you?”

“It’s fine, I can take care of myself. Why don’t you just mind your own business.” He scoffed, fixing the logs himself and shooing away the stranger.

“I’d love to, but sadly I’m cursed with wanting to help people. Especially wanderers who can take care of themselves.” The stranger shot Grian a wink to his disgust.

Deciding to ignore the man, he put is food to cook before going back to looking through his haul. Name tags, saddles, boots, bottles, fish, junk, junk and more junk. Nothing of interest and certainly not what he was hoping to find. After roaming the stream for an hour you’d think he’d find something of note, but nope! Just more trash he’d have to toss out once it had accumulated enough to be dragged instead of carried.

“So... what are you hoping to find.” A yelp came out of Grian, he stared daggers into the man hovering over him.

“What is wrong with you? Can’t you just leave me alone?”

“Sorry, you just seemed so lost in thought, you didn’t even realize your food was finished.” The stranger chuckled to himself as red painted Grian’s ears.

“You could’ve just said so.” He pouted, earning a grin from the man.

“Does this mean I can stick around?”

“I’d like it if you didn’t, but I have a sneaking suspicion that you won’t listen.”

“Ah, you already know me so well. I can already tell we’re going to get along.” Without another word, he went to sit down next to Grian. “I’m Scar by the way. What’s your name?”

“Grian” He spoke in between bites.

“That’s a bit of an odd name. It’s suits you.”

There was something about this guy that Grian couldn’t quite put his finger on. He didn’t know him, but every fiber of his being was telling him this man was going to cause him quite a bit of trouble. Then again, anyone who tried to openly flirt with the first person they see, is bound to bring trouble wherever they go.

“Now that we’re acquainted, do you mind telling me what you’re looking for?” Grian slowed his chewing, pausing to think about whether or not to tell him. They had just met afterall, there was really no point in telling him. It’s not like this guy was going to stick around for very long.

“Uhm… It’s a little personal—”

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to pry. But I guess that’s what I get for being a little nosy.” Scar laughed it off. Even though it felt like he had messed up, Grian did appreciate him backing off.

“Well, I will say, it’s just a book. Nothing too special. Just something that I need.” This much should be fine right?

“A bit odd, but I guess it’s fitting.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, I just... You seem a bit unusual? Not in a bad way! Just out of the ordinary. I don’t know what I’m saying half of the time, so don’t mind me.” Shaking his head, he drew himself forward. “I didn’t mean anything of it. I just wasn’t expecting that.”

Without another word, Grian packed away his things and grabbed his fishing rod. Returning to the river, he sighed hoping for something different to be caught on his line.

“Was that sigh for me or for you?”

“Me. Do you just never make any noise when you move?”

“I’m quick, and fast like a cat. Of course, I’m not going to make any noise—” He stumbled as Grian turned to him.

“Obviously not as graceful.” Grian smirked, “You might do with a couple of dancing lessons.”

“Oh, I don’t dance. That is unless you want to teach me?”

“You couldn’t pay me enough.” He reeled in his line after feeling a bite, already knowing it was just another fish.

“I’d think I’m better company than all these fish you’re catching.”

“At least they’re quieter than you are.”

“Ouch, sick of me already? It’s hardly been any time at all.”

“Feels like forever.” Grian whispered underneath his breath before casting his line again.

“Already talking about our future? You must be a man after my heart.”

Part Two

[ynsvnte]

Dried Flower ! — Park Jongseong

Genre: fluff, established relationship

Word Count: 617

Warnings: pet names, kissing (once), arguing, swearing (twice)

Pairing: bf!Jay x gn!reader

Masterlist

“Hey..Jay wake up..” that’s the first words Jay can hear leaving your mouth.. “What is it..? What time is it even..?” Jay was confused, he could barely see. “It’s already 7 am Jay…you got work..” Work..please Jay didn’t want to go. Especially if it meant leaving you alone at home. He doesn’t want his favorite girl in the world to be alone and desperate when he gets back home. Not that he wouldn’t mind you begging for him.

“Fuck work. Can’t I just stay here with you all day?” He asked. You shook your head, declining. when he comes back from work.

“No…” Jay just said, shoving his head into the crook of your neck, kissing it, making you giggle.

“H-hey that tickles..” You said trying to move his head away from your neck, but Jay wrapped his arms around your waist. “Nuh-uh…not gonna happen baby..” Jay held you tight into his embrace. Too early in the morning..well at least for him.. “No..Jay baby you have work, and so do I…” Oh yeah he forgot about that too. “Can’t we skip work today..” You shook your head insisting no. “Call in sick please.” Jay was the one begging now, not you. You both usually would stay in bed a bit longer. Cuddling for an extra 5 minutes before one of you actually got up and got ready for work.. (it’s always you).

“No, Jay I really need to go to work and so do you..” You tried reasoning with him. Hoping to get him to let you go and finally be able to get ready. “So work is more important than me?” He asked, looking up at you, waiting for your answer. You sigh before kissing his nose.. “Of course not..” “Then skip work. I’ll skip work if it means having to stay in bed all day with you..” You slightly giggle, but go back to a neutral face. Jay was still hugging you, so you took the opportunity to shove him slightly moving around a bit. Unfortunately for you, Jay still had you trapped in his arms. You sigh and turn over to see what time was it.. 7:28.. “JAYY!! I really need to go..like right..now” Jay didn’t respond, ignoring your begging. You reach over for your phone, and log into it, only for Jay to snatch it away from your hands.

“Babe what the fuck!” You could see Jay typing something onto your phone, so you take a quick peep, seeing him text your boss. “Hey!” You try to reach for it only for Jay to move his arm away from you, making you unable to grab your phone back. You give Jay a glare, before backing away and getting out of bed. You can hear Jay giggle in the background. “Wait, don't leave..” He pleaded. You ignore his calls, and start getting ready.

Once you’re done dressing, you walk out to see Jay just looking at you. You notice the slight pout on his face, until you see your phone back on the nightstand on your side of the bed. “Are you really going?” He asked you, frowning, you nodded your head. “I didn’t send the message..” You don’t respond, before walking up the nightstand reaching to grab your phone jay places his hand on top of yours..you turn your gaze towards him..He was giving you that look.. “No, babe I’m going to work whether you like it or not..” You were a bit upset with him..just a bit.

“Does that mean? I’m home alone..?” Jay asked.

“No, you have work too, besides when you get back home you’re going to see me regardless..” reasoning, you place a peck on his lips, leaving him stunned before walking out of the room.

Author’s notes: not happy how this came out, but ehh whatever.. gotta serve for the people Yknow. Wrote this on my laptop so I don’t know if it made a difference tbh but oh well 😔 also w2e dried flower IS SOOO GOOD

© ynsvnte copyright 2024

[harmonictechnicality]

Eddie's Memory Log: Day 59

part 1 here | part 2 here | part 3 here | part 4 here | part 6 here (ao3 link here)

Steve spends an obnoxious amount of time in front of the mirror. This isn’t breaking news. If he were in that fairytale with the evil witch and her Mirror Disciple, the mirror would be so sick of Steve’s vanity by now.

The surprising part is that Steve has been in front of the mirror since five in the morning. He couldn’t sleep, his mind is one channel full of reruns. And unfortunately, people don’t have a fucking remote control to turn off their brains, so he’s just stuck reliving Saturday morning over and over again.

Here he is. Just staring blankly at his reflection. Yawning. The reflection yawns back. Flipping his hair to one side, thinking about Eddie. Flipping his hair to the other side, thinking about Eddie. Spraying the flyaways down, thinking about Eddie. Steve has to splash his face with water so much that he’s going to show up to the hospital looking like a shriveled-up sponge.

He’s nearly satisfied with how it’s shaping up when Steve is smacked with a thought. A rewind in his rerun. A loop.

It’s Eddie’s voice, that scratchy morning one that made Steve’s toes curl up in his sneakers. All he can hear now is that voice repeating the same syrupy sentence:

‘Feels like cashmere now…’

Steve listens to the phrase till his knees start to wobble. He reaches up into his hair, just to experience what Eddie experienced that day. Instead, all Steve feels is hardened strands. All of it holding a sticky residue. Not soft at all. And definitely not cashmere. 

Before the loop can start over for the umpteenth time, Steve strips off his meticulously planned outfit and hops into the shower. The water bursts out, directly onto Steve’s nearly satisfactory styling job. It breaks his pride more than his heart, washing all his hard work away so easily.

Steve never really goes out in public with unstyled hair anymore. Not after the time in eighth grade when Hailey Barnes got gum stuck in his hair mid-make out. Steve had to cut it the shortest it had ever been in his whole life. Led to a full blown Samson storyline for the rest of the school year. He still dated, sure - but barely any second dates.

Steve shakes off his biblical trauma and blow-dries for a good fifteen minutes. Look, if he can’t style it, he can at least dry it out. He’s not a complete heathen for christ’s sake. 

It’s weird, staring back at an unstyled Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington. But this might earn him more scalp massages. Potential kisses. Potential memories. So if Eddie wants cashmere, Steve’s gonna fucking give it to him.

He’s probably gonna be late for visiting hours, but he’s hopeful that Eddie will forgive him once he gets his vein-busted hands into Steve’s hair. Driving over the speed limit is not exactly necessary and certainly not legal, but fuck it all.

Fuck it all with the windows down.

It’s a gross habit, but Steve starts chewing on his nail as soon as he reaches the door to Eddie’s room. He’s gotta kick these nerves in the ass, pull his charisma out with a rope or some shit. 

There’s no reason to be nervous, not after Eddie verified that Steve was reading the situation correctly. That should be confirmation enough to make Steve stop his nasty nail-biting and boost his enthusiasm to max volume.

So that’s exactly what he does. Steve swings the door open, pointing directly towards Eddie upon arrival. “You have some serious explaining to do, Munson.”

“Quite the entrance you got there.” Okay. Less enthusiasm than Steve, for sure. Not even half-volume enthusiasm.

“I mean, just leaving me hanging like that?” Steve lightly smacks Eddie’s shoulder.  “You really are the worst eye candy employer of all time.”

Eddie’s eyes narrow as he nods along. “Sure…”

The enthusiasm is dialing down to fucking mute. At this rate, Steve will have to skip the sly banter, go straight for the obvious. His dignity would be damaged if he weren’t so wired.

“Oh come on!” Steve shoves Eddie’s shoulder a bit harder this time. “You’re not gonna say anything about my hair?” Steve runs his hands through it, movie slow-motion style. Then he shakes it out, flounces the ends. Anything for some sign of life at the moment.

“It’s… different.”

No shit, it’s different. It’s certifiable fluff right now. Sort of like angel food cake without the icing. 

Steve has to shift gears yet again. Maybe the straightforward path is too basic for Eddie’s liking. Maybe he prefers the smooth lines. Steve can do smooth. Smooth is his fucking specialty.

“Free cashmere doesn’t come around like this everyday.” Steve sits next to Eddie on the bed, messing around with his heart monitor cord. “So touch it all you want, Eds.”

“What’s gotten into you?” Eddie’s face goes siren red. He scoots away from where Steve is sitting and laughs somewhat nervously. “Was it drugs? Did you finally raid my lunchbox?” 

“No. No drugs. Just…” Happy to see you. A little wounded that you’re not as happy to see me. But still… happiness overall.  “A rare good mood, I guess.”

“I’ll say.” Eddie scoffs. "You are mighty chipper today.”

“Well, yeah.” Steve gets off the bed. He’s clearly making Eddie uncomfortable and he doesn’t know why. His energy is the same as it was Saturday morning. A little heightened, sure, but Eddie thrives off intense shit. Well, he usually does. “I mean, considering what almost happened Saturday.”

Eddie holds up both hands. “Wait. Time out. Saturday?” 

“Yeah.”

“This Saturday?”

“Yeah.”

“You were here on the weekend?”

No. No, this can’t be happening. This is Eddie scribbling Steve-related notes on his arm all over again. The trap door in Steve’s stomach drops, all of his insides feel like they’re plunging down to his feet. The blush that had settled in Steve’s face, is now being whipped around, right up to his forehead. He feels sick. He feels a migraine forming. He feels fucking robbed.

“Please. Please tell you didn’t forget.” Steve’s voice is small.

Eddie doesn’t respond immediately, just studies the grim expression on Steve’s whole face. “I need you to be specific with what you’re talking about, Steve.”

“Do you remember Friday?”

Eddie looks up at the ceiling as if his memories are stored somewhere up high. “You came over. We talked about your mixtape. Bubblegum shit. See a dentist. No insurance, yada yada.”

So far, so good.

“We watched the Home Shopping Network for four hours.”

Three, but Steve lets that one slide. Probably felt like four hours.

“The doctors gave me new medicine for… something, I don’t know.”

“That part is important.”

“Yeah well, you try being on more medications than you can count on your hands.” Eddie barks back.  “See how many ridiculously long latin names you can remember.”

Look. Steve is a patient person - hasn’t always been that way, but the unexplainable circumstances over the last three years has Miyagi’d the shit out of his patience levels.

Five days a week, Steve sits here. Patiently dealing with whatever unpredictable mood Eddie is going through that day. Five days a week for almost three months. Steve doesn’t wanna sit here and do the math because he knows it’ll be depressing numbers. So many days, hours, minutes, that he spends being the Patient Guy.

But with Eddie snapping while Steve is trying to process how such an amazing moment can simply vanish like a demented magic trick? No. Steve is no longer proficient in the art of Patience.

“You know I didn’t mean that…” Eddie mumbles, fiddles with one of the wires attached to him. Not exactly an apology.

“No please, continue to use me as your emotional punching bag. It’s one of my life’s greatest joys.” Steve leans against the wall, all casual and relaxed. But his words bite just as hard as Eddie’s did. The way he looks and sounds are total contradictions to each other.

Eddie rubs hard over his eyes. “Shit, Steve. I’m being an asshole.”

Fucking christ, that’s still not an apology. “Whatever. Just tell me what you remember after the doctor gave you the medicine.”

Eddie sighs. Looks back up at the ceiling while he talks. “I got really sick…”

“Yeah.”

“You were here.”

“Per usual.”

“But I passed the fuck out once the fever went away.”

“And then…” Steve motions his hand for Eddie to keep going.

“And then?”

Goddamnit. “You don’t remember.”

Eddie stays silent. Searching the whole room now for memories that do not exist. Memories that have expired. Memories that are one-sided.

“You don’t remember any of it.” Steve whispers to himself. 

His impatience gets distorted with all of his feelings for Eddie. Everything is barbed-wire sharp, cutting up his throat. He doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, the answers are too unfair. The reality is too bleak. Steve doesn’t deal with his own mental hurdles most days - he can’t add new psychological pitfalls to his life.

Steve is holding his forehead, urging the headache to go away with fingertips and delusion. He opens his eyes momentarily to see Eddie staring back. He looks worried. Powerless.

That makes two of them.

“Steve.” Eddie is almost whispering. “Whatever it is… I’m so sorry that I don’t rem -”

“Don’t do that.” Steve interrupts. “Don’t apologize for having head trauma, Eddie Munson.”

“Alright. I won’t.”

Steve crawls through the barbed wire, gets muddy and messy with the truth. “Look, there’s a lot of other shit you should feel sorry for. Like lashing out at me all the time. And never asking how I’m doing with my… life and shit.”

“There’s a vending machine down the hall that you could fill with all the reasons you should feel sorry. Might as well make a fucking profit off of your remorse.” Steve tacks the dark joke on at the end because he can. Because it’s Eddie.

“But your recovery process is not one of things you should ever feel sorry for. Okay?”

“Yeah.” Eddie gulps. Nods. “Okay.”

Steve is standing at the foot of Eddie’s bed, hands gripped around the plastic railings. His knuckles are the same sterile white as the rest of this god awful room. Steve has become a chameleon to this place that somehow manages to feel haunted by more than just lingering mortality.

“I think I’m gonna head out.” Steve says it without even trying really. The words just stumble out.

Eddie’s mouth opens, forming an ‘oh’ in reply, but no sound comes out with it. 

“Yeah this just isn’t… I don’t know.” It’s a lame thing to say but it’s true. Steve has no fucking clue what to do anymore. “I don’t think I can do this today.”

Eddie doesn’t look at him. “Got it.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Steve takes those few painful steps to the door. His limbs feel heavy. Like guilt and confusion are weighing him down.

No words fit this moment. This departure. So Steve throws a few out there in hopes that it’ll be enough:

“Just… hang in there.”

It’s not enough. Not even close. 

“Will do, Harrington.” Eddie still doesn’t look at him.

The door shuts, but Steve thinks he feels it slamming all the way down his spine.

Day 60: 

Steve doesn’t go to the hospital today. 

It’s Tuesday.

Day 61:

Day 62:

Day 63:

Day 64:

Day 65:

Steve hasn’t really talked to anyone since Monday, not even Robin. She called him once on Wednesday to see if he wanted to grab dinner with her and Vickie, but he politely declined. Didn’t even bother fabricating an excuse. Just stuck with good old-fashioned ‘no.’ Why reinvent the wheel with rejection?

He’s in dirty clothes and watching an Andy Griffith marathon, when the phone rings. He almost ignores it - except he needs to get more onion dip from the fridge anyways, and the phone is on the way there. Might as well pick it up.

“Harrington residence.” His voice drones. “Steve speaking.”

“Shit.”

Shit. “Eddie?”

“Yeah. Hey, man.”

“What’s wrong? Did something happen? Are you okay?” Apparently, Steve cannot switch off the caring portion of his heart.

“Everything is…” Eddie holds out the ‘s’ sound for a while. “I just needed to apologize.”

“Right.”

“And to thank you.”

Steve lowers his eyebrows. “For what?”

“Being here… when you were.” Eddie’s voice sounds dried up. Like he hasn't spoken much in days. “I know you haven’t been back for a few days, and that’s my own damn fault.”

Most of the behavioral stuff is his fault, yeah. But the icing out bullshit that Steve is pulling is cowardly. He’s not doing anything productive with his free time. He’s deadlocked. Stranded in uncertainty.

Eddie continues. “But for all the days you didn’t give up on me… I guess I didn’t know how much I needed that. So thank you.”

“That’s…” Steve is about to say ‘unnecessary,’ but decides against it. Dismissiveness solves nothing. “You’re welcome.”

“Even when I was being Kathy or Hyde or Grendel or whatever else you managed to come up with behind my back.”

Steve didn’t. He thought up a lot of spiteful shit, but he never said any of it out loud. Okay, maybe some it slipped along the way. He’s not perfect.

“I wouldn’t blame you for never coming back to visit me.” Eddie is talking faster now - which is basically normal Eddie speed. “But if you did… I have something I wanna to give you.”

Steve groans. “Not a mixtape, right?”

“Nah, I’ve tortured you enough with my own vocal ridicule.” Eddie snickers, Steve joins him. “It’s nothing much, but yeah. It’s here if you want it.”

“Okay… yeah. Thanks.”

Steve smiles, very briefly. His mind reminds him far too soon that nothing is fixed. Sure, he’s not pissed off at Eddie. The apology was genuine. Beside, it takes way too much brainpower to hold grudges. 

But Eddie doesn’t remember what Steve will never forget. That’s still very real.

“Hey, Eddie.” Steve checks again. Just to be certain. “You really don’t remember Saturday?”

There’s a pause. “I really am sorry, Steve.” 

Yeah. Sucks just as hard as it did on Monday.

“I know you said not to be sorry for my memory, but I am.”

Well… Eddie remembers their fight.

“Glad you remember that part.” Steve finds the positive. Even if it tastes bitter, it’s positive-ish. “Thanks for calling, Eds.”

“Thanks for not hanging up.”

“Oh, there was deep contemplation about hanging up.”

Eddie lets out a single snort. “Good. At least you’re consistent.”

“I figured there would be lots of bad karma for hanging up on a dude that’s bed-ridden in a hospital.”

“Undoubtedly bad karma. They’d put you in karma jail for such actions.”

“Glad I decided against it then. I’m way too pretty for karma jail.”

“You’re way too pretty for any iteration of jail, Steve Harrington.”

The conversation becomes a stream of easy jokes and harmless insults. Steve prefers it this way, feelings or no feelings. He likes the relaxed discussions that he can have with Eddie. He likes how Eddie will run wild with a topic, so that he can just listen. He likes that Eddie will gladly shut up if Steve wants to interject.

Steve just likes him. Likes Eddie.

They talk until Eddie takes his nighttime meds, promptly falling asleep. Snoring into the phone speaker. Steve stays on the line a little while longer. Waits until he hears the heart monitor beating out a steady rhythm. 

He hangs up and heads to bed himself. Forgets all about his onion dip and the Andy Griffith marathon.

Day 66:

It’s six in the morning. The sun is gradually hitting the horizon, but Steve is wide awake regardless. He’s a fairly competitive person, but Steve definitely shouldn’t be competing with things like nature, goddamnit.

He picks up the phone, the same one he used last night to talk to Eddie. Swears that it’s still warm from being pressed to his cheek for hours.

He calls Robin. It’s inconsiderate as hell to call this early, but she’s the only one of his friends that might answer at this hour.

Might being the key word. There’s no answer.

Steve sucks in a deep breath. Decides to be extra annoying and calls again.

“Hello?” Thank god it’s not her dad.

“Morning, Buckley.”

“Bye.”

“Wait!”

Robin swears under her breath a few times. “Why? Why must you insist on having the sleep schedule of a farm animal, Steve?”

“Trust me, it’s not by choice.”

“I don’t trust anyone that calls me before noon.” She yawns the last few words of her sentence. “Something must be wrong with you.”

“Nothing’s wrong with me. Nothing you didn’t already know about anyway.” Steve does want to chat and get his mind off of things, but he also needed to hear his friend’s voice. “Just wanted to check in.”

This is what they do now. They have to. No one else is going to check on them because no one else even knows that they literally threw flames at a demonic entity. So they call or show up whenever they can.

They have to.

“I’m hanging in there.” Which is seemingly better than ‘I’m here.’ That phrase is an emotional grenade. “How about you?”

Steve laughs, then sighs. “Obviously sleep is a fuckshow. But yeah. Hanging in there too.”

They shift to lighter subjects. Movies they’re excited to see. Plans to try the new Italian restaurant on Main Street. All the petty town gossip they can think of.

Robin talks about Vickie too. Apparently, they have the same top four favorite novels. She mentions that three times in the same breath, so that must be a pretty big deal. Steve can hear her smiling through every ordinary detail she shares, which makes him happy. He’s glad his best friend has found someone that makes the ordinary shit seem like an adventure.

It selfishly makes him think of Eddie though. How badly he wants to bring him up after every other sentence. How random words remind him of something stupid Eddie said or did.

He’s doing so well with holding back, until Robin asks. She says his name, and Steve fucking shivers at hearing it. Eddie’s name, right in his ear.

“Haven’t seen him in a week…” Steve tries to toss it in there casually, despite how un-casual it is.

“Does that mean his memories are back?”

“Not exactly…”

Robin hums into the speaker, catching on quickly to Steve’s un-casualness. “Well, the coffee is already brewing. Might as well tell me what the fuck happened.”

He goes over everything in random order - whatever hits his mind first. The argument, the spending the night, the arm scribbles, the almost-kiss, the phone call. Steve sounds just like Robin talking about Vickie. Very little breaths and stupidly smiling over all the good parts. 

He doesn’t really elaborate on the fact Eddie is a guy and that he’s attracted to him anyways. There’s so many other complicated factors, that part has seemed secondary since the beginning. And honestly, he’s sort of grateful for that. Steve doesn’t want to overthink this. He just wants to see where this will go.

It’s painfully quiet for a while once he gets through everything, even the weirdly erotic hair-massage bit. He’s starting to think they’ve lost connection when he hears Robin crunch her breakfast. Loudly.

“So…” Steve urges. “What do you think?”

She’s chewing her toast even closer to the phone. “About you being in love with Eddie? It’s weird.”

“I’m not in love with Eddie.” 

“I’m sorry - you just told me that his heart monitor beats to the rhythm of a song while he’s sleeping.”

“Patiently.” It's Steve's favorite Journey song.

“Pop the champagne and prepare the gondola, my friend.” Robin exclaims. “Cause that is love.”

“Whatever.” Steve grumbles. Sort of despises how valid her point is. “Can’t believe he doesn’t remember.”

“It’s not like he’s cherry-picking his memories, dingus. This wasn’t on purpose.”

Steve clings to that fact. Robin is hardly ever wrong and he loves that about her. “Can’t believe he mentioned Scoops… that fucker.”

“Oh I can believe it.”

He holds his breath for a few seconds. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Eddie was there loitering samples as much as baby Sinclair.”

“No, he wasn’t.”

“Uh.” She sounds totally annoyed with him. “Yes. He was.”

“I think I’d remember seeing a frizzy-haired hyena at Scoops fucking Ahoy, Robin.”

“You’re so wrong about this, my friend.” Robin is giggling now. Steve never knew a giggle could sound so villainous. “Eddie only came to get samples while you were scooping at the back counter.”

“Okay…” Steve says.

“You know… to enjoy the show.”

“It’s too early for this.” He huffs. “Just spell it out for me, Buckley.”

The villainous giggle returns. Might be more evil this time. “Pretty sure the middle-aged divorcees nicknamed it the Below Deck Viewing Party.”

Steve finally gets it.

Oh fuck. “My ass had a fan club?”

“Afraid so.” Robin says. “And Eddie Munson was one of its most loyal admirers.”

Steve feels like running in circles. Doing burpees or jumping jacks. Maybe he’ll just start clapping over this brand new information that’s illuminating the horniest parts of his mind.

“How have you never told me this?” Steve questions, still sizzling with energy.

“And make your big head even more insufferable?” Robing drones. “Ugh. Gag me.”

That checks out. Steve is going to be so intolerable now, especially when he wears those laundry day khakis that Eddie pretends to hate. Maybe Steve should wear them today, just for the hell of it.

They chat until Robin has to head out to work. Neither of them call much attention to the fact that Steve is crushing on a guy, so Steve assumes his brain was right along.

It’s not a big deal. There’s so much more pressing matters at hand - like the fact that his crush doesn’t remember holding his hand all night long.

That’s way more pressing than crushing on dudes.

Eddie isn’t in his hospital bed.

Eddie isn’t in his room at all.

Those realizations clog Steve’s lungs until he feels them caving in. His mind is flooded with the time that Max wasn’t in her hospital room months ago. The time she coded and nobody fucking knew until they were all standing there in a Max-less room.

Steve slumps against the wall, the weight of his lungs and his premonitions are too heavy for him to stand straight. 

He’s about to crouch down, get his blood-flow to restart, when two nurses and Eddie walk through the door. They’re guiding him on either side, although he seems fairly stable on his own.

Steve is so relieved. Almost as relieved as the time Max came back after coding. Almost.

“You’re back.” It’s bordering on a question - the way Eddie says it.

“I got him,” Steve waves off the nurses. He takes Eddie’s left arm and holds it tight. Balancing both of them in entirely separate ways. The nurses thank him and he starts directing Eddie to the side of the bed. “Weird to see you standing again.”

He hasn’t seen Eddie upright since… 

Steve clears his throat. “You definitely look…” Hot. “Taller than I remember.”

While that’s vaguely true, it is definitely not at the forefront of Steve’s mind. He's touching Eddie again, not in a bed and not to detach all his hospital machinery. He’s just touching him, keeping him steady with his arms, and it’s so fucking nice.

They take a few more steps and the sleeves on Eddie’s hospital gown slips off his shoulder. Steve cannot look away. There’s a gray-ish bruise right on top, extending down to Eddie’s shoulder blade. It’s been healing for months and it’s still discolored. Steve is fixated on the shadowy hue, how Eddie’s pale skin almost glows underneath it. 

If Steve’s hands weren’t busy being helpful right now, he’d touch it. Watch the colors ripple under the pad of his finger.

“Well… glad to refresh your memories then.” Eddie tugs the sleeve back up, covering the patchwork skin that Steve couldn’t stop staring at. “But isn’t that your job? To refresh my impoverished frontal lobe?”

Steve redirects his focus. “Impoverished Frontal Lobe would make a good band name.”

“Shit, you’re so right. Dibs.”

“You already have a band, dumbass.”

“True - but every lead guitarist needs a backup band name. Everyone knows that. Fallouts are a disease to the music industry.”

Eddie remembers he plays guitar. Not accordion.

“You can have Impoverished Frontal Lobe if I can have Hometown Slut.” Steve shrugs to one side.

“Can’t have what’s already yours, Stevie.”

Steve finally releases Eddie’s arm, no reason to still be holding it. No medical reason anyways. He catches himself smiling at the natural return of their banter. Even though Steve left, his attraction to Eddie didn’t budge one goddamn inch.

Picking up the visitation routine is easy. Steve settles into the same well-worn chair, turns on the same daytime tv shows, chews the same minty gum that Sam leaves for him at the check-in desk. It’s all the same. As things should be.

Where Steve is supposed to be.

“It’s good to see you again.” The phrase - Eddie’s words - it all reminds Steve of holding shells up to his ears at the beach. “Sorta got used to you being here.” If Steve listens close enough, there’s an I missed you somewhere inside.

“Same.” There’s an I missed you too inside Steve’s words as well.

“And since your back…” Eddie does a drumroll over his thighs. “I can give you your gift.”

“You didn’t mention on the phone that this was a gift.”

“Thought it was implied.” Eddie bends down, drags a basket out from under his hospital bed. He pushes it over to Steve’s chair. “Here.”

Steve is beaming right away because it’s so tacky and gaudy, all synonyms that relate to Eddie. The basket is painted gold, sort of cracking around the splinters of wood. It’s oversized - much bigger than it needs to be for the items sitting inside of it. The clear plastic around it has a silvery glint and it’s so fucking noisy when he moves it around.

It’s not something Steve would’ve ever picked out to give as a gift. But the whole thing screams Eddie Munson, which makes it perfect.

“Yeah yeah, I know. It’s just one of the baskets from the hospital gift shop.” Eddie gestures broadly around the present, smacking the crinkly plastic a few times. “But I emptied out all of the lousy shit. Even replaced it with all of your vending machine preferences.”

It’s a gentle jab at Steve’s vending machine metaphor from last week. The basket is stacked with Steve’s favorite chips and candy - the ones he still chooses week after week.

Eddie remembers that Steve loves Utz potato chips and Junior Mints.

There’s a few sodas thrown in there too. The bottom layer is littered with the sugar packets that Steve hoards for his cafeteria coffee breaks.

But underneath all the snacks and sugar and sodas, there’s a card. It says ‘Feel Better Soon’ on the front.

“Oh yeah, that came with the basket.” Eddie flicks at the edge of the card. 

The greeting card hits Steve harder than it should. Eddie has no memory of all the monstrous fuckery Steve has witnessed. So, he can’t even begin to know how much Steve needed that silly little reminder. That Steve needs to get well soon, feel better, hang in there. All of those corny sayings, Steve needs all of them.

“I did write something in it though.”

Steve’s eyes shift up to Eddie. “You did?”

Eddie nods. “Didn’t know if you’d wanna talk to me again after last week.”

Eddie still remembers Steve storming out on Monday. (It’s the first time Steve wishes Eddie would forget something.)

Steve opens the card, but Eddie leans over to grab it out of his hands.

“Don’t read it here.” Eddie fans himself with the card. His hair wisps around, reminds Steve of a windstorm. “Even the freak is susceptible to the occasional embarrassment, okay?”

Steve gives Eddie a thumbs up and looks back over the items. None of them are expensive or luxurious or anything like. It’s all stuff Eddie could scavenge around for. But all of it is thoughtful. Significant. 

“So… how are the memories?” Steve asks.

Eddie fills him in while they munch on their mountain of goodies. Music is still the strongest remedy. He tells Steve that if finishes physical therapy, he’ll be approved to play his guitar. Both of them are hopeful that will help unlock his past even more.

Steve pokes fun that Eddie always skipped gym class. He bets Eddie twenty bucks that he’ll play hookie at least once.

Eddie says ‘make it fourty.’ They shake hands on it.

They catch up and get stomachaches from all of the artificially sweetened crap they just ingested. Or maybe they just feel sick from laughing at all the stupid infomercials on tv. Whatever it is, they’re both sore and smiling by the end of the day.

“Guess I should head out.” Steve can already see the gears turning in Eddie’s head, wondering if he’ll be back. “Cool if I return to my usual schedule?”

Eddie’s chest falls. His shoulders relax. “As long as it’s not out of pity.”

“I don’t pity you, Eds.” Steve says. “The nurses, however…”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Alright, alright. You’ve made your point, dickwad.”

Steve can’t bring himself to hold Eddie’s hand, not really sure why. Things have been mended, but maybe not enough. Maybe it’s all still too fresh.

Instead, Steve rubs the material of Eddie’s blanket. He smooths it out between his fingers, imagining that it’s the material of Eddie’s hospital gown.

Steve’s eyes stay on the fabric in his hands. “If you remember anything after you took that new headache medicine… you’ll tell me, right?”

Eddie knocks his knuckles onto Steve’s hand. Steve lets the fabric go. He looks at Eddie, who is happier now. Warmer.

“Definitely.”

“Good.”

Steve doesn’t wait to read Eddie’s letter. He flips open the card as soon as he gets in his car.

The handwriting is pretty terrible, similar to all of Eddie’s arm scribbles. But Steve must’ve developed an overnight supernatural ability to decode Eddie Munson’s illegible penmanship because he can read every word perfectly:

Steve, The card says ‘Feel Better,’ but that seems insufficient. Just better? Nah. That doesn’t cover all the bases (look see? I threw in a sports term just for you, champ). A trust-fund catalog model that spends the majority of his week with a metalhead who has an affinity for nerd shit? No way. That kind of person deserves so much more than feeling better.  You deserve to feel worthwhile. Yours truly, Eddie/Kathy/Hyde/Grendel/HSN Conspiracy Theorist ps. Sorry I’m so bad at simple apologies. Everything has to be torturously difficult with me, which you already know. pps. Well shit. I never even said it properly.  I’m sorry.

Steve is overwhelmed by all of it. Even Eddie’s little doodles on the back cover are causing him shortness of breath.

It’s a sloppy skyline of mixtape-skyscrapers. The tallest one is directly in the middle. Sprawled across the bottom is the word ‘Munsonopolis,’and in quotations underneath it says, ‘featuring the Ed-pire State Building.’ There’s an exaggerated amount of arrows pointing at the one in the middle - just in case it wasn’t clear which one is the featured tower.

Not subtle, that one.

Steve is vibrating with energy the whole drive home. Eddie made so many references to past memories in that letter. Some were running jokes, sure. But others? The trust-fund dig? The sports joke? Steve has so many bullet points to add to the binder. So many things to notate. So much fucking progress.

But he doesn’t write down any of it. Instead, he staples the card to the notebook paper labeled ‘Day 66.’ Everything he’s ever needed to know is in that card. That ironically perfect card.

And it the faintest penciling, Steve writes one bullet for himself:

Robin was right. Definitely think I’m falling for him.

Day 67:

“Apology accepted, by the way.” Steve tosses a jello cup onto Eddie’s table. He snagged one at the cafeteria on his way in - just so Eddie doesn’t wrongfully assume he wanted pudding yet again. 

Is it cheating to give away the answers? Yeah. But Steve is falling for this guy, so he’d buy an entire fucking factory of gelatin if Eddie requested it.

“So you read the card?” Eddie viciously tears open the jello lid. Sniffs it. Weird.

Eddie remembers writing Steve the letter.

“Read it. Marinated on it. Read it again.” Steve automatically moves the chair close to the bed. Fuck distance. “Maybe I should make deep annotations on my upcoming reread.”

Eddie grumbles. “Is this how it feels when I tease you about jock shit all the time?”

Eddie remembers their banter. Huh.

“Sure does.” And I’m totally obsessed with it.

“Are you willing to change topics?”

Steve peers over to examine Eddie’s mixtape collection. A sideways grin takes over his face. “Wanna tell me why my mixtape is at the top of the pile over there?”

“Uh…” Eddie whips his head over to the tower. “You know what - the apology card mockery wasn’t so bad after all.”

“Oh really?”

“In fact, I enjoyed it.”

Steve teases Eddie for the rest of their visit, completely unforgiving about it. Payback for two months of this.

He’s pretty sure Eddie likes it more than he does.

Day 68:

Eddie is in and out of the room for physical therapy today. Steve is unfazed by the lack of quality time because any time Eddie does return, Steve gets to help him to his bed. Gets to touch Eddie’s arm, his back. Sometimes his shoulder. 

It’s becoming Steve’s hospital equivalent to the whole, ‘yawn and stretch’ move from all those movie theater dates.

“You don’t have to do this, Steve.” Eddie says it every time. “I can walk eight feet on my own.”

“Just in case…” which directly translates to, I want to do this.

Steve asks the same question at the end of every visit now:

“Call me if you remember.”

And Eddie always assures him that he will.

Day 69:

They are playing cards when Eddie brings it up. “What if I never remember?”

“Remember what?” Steve discards one of his cards to the pile. Grabs a new one from the deck. 

“The thing that makes you all twitchy at the end of every visit.” Eddie does his best twitchy-Steve impression. It’s insulting, at best. “What if it doesn’t come back?”

“It’ll come back.” Steve is so sure of it. Easygoing.

“How do you know?”

“I just do.”

“How original.”

Steve flips his cards down on the table. He reaches down to the binder that’s an extension of his determination these days, flips through the pages. Pages full of breakthroughs. Even on the lousy days, even when Eddie occasionally backtracks. The pages are still full.

“This is how I know.” Steve holds Eddie’s eye contact after shutting the binder. “I see the progress. It’s not linear, not all the time… but I see it.”

Eddie reaches out. Runs his fingers across the binder, back and forth. Steve stops him the third time, places his hand over Eddie’s. There’s a hitch in Eddie’s breathing when he does it, so Steve slides away, doesn’t linger too long. He listens in to the heart monitor’s cadence for insight on the mood they’ve created.

Not the same as last Saturday. Not the tempo Steve is looking for to take initiative. Not yet.

“I win, by the way.” Eddie announces, flipping his cards over. Smiling that bonus type of smile.

“Damn right you do.”

Day 70:

Eddie is singing one of Steve’s mixtape songs, using his thermometer as a microphone. It’s purposely off-key and he’s implemented some exaggerated accent to it. 

This isn’t the first time he’s done this demented-karaoke routine. In fact, Steve has had to suffer through Eddie butchering pop classics since Day 26 of these hospital visits.

He always does it to get Steve to crack - lose his temper or threaten to leave. Steve usually humors Eddie with one of these reactions because it’s fun. It’s a lighthearted habit that they formed after hard days. Pain infested days.

But this week has been good. Surprisingly adequate. Steve is back and Eddie hasn’t thrown up, not once. He only complained about the flavorless cafeteria food on Tuesday, instead of every other day. That alone is an immediate call for celebration.

So today… Steve doesn’t stomp his foot or swear under his breath. Today Steve claps. Encourages the mediocrity of it all.

“Oh, so you like it when I vocally murder your precious pop tunes?” Eddie laughs. Constantly making himself laugh.

“No, I don’t like it.” Steve folds his arms into his chest. Eddie’s laughter is contagious, Steve catches it as he speaks again. “I like you.”

Eddie’s mouth clamps up. His expression drops. His heart monitor skips two beeps in its pattern.

“Can’t believe I finally found the off-button on you.” Steve glides over to the bed. The upperhand is making him fucking fearless. “Only took me seventy days to find it.”

Steve swipes his thumb under Eddie’s jaw, watching his throat muscles tense at the pressure. Eddie gulps, barely anything goes down. Steve can feel that.

“I…” 

“Don’t tell me what you think I wanna hear.” Steve checks the clock. Visiting hours ended four minutes ago, and he doesn’t need to get himself into another spending the night incident. As much as he enjoyed the wake-up call, Steve fucking despised the aftermath of reality.

“Steve…” The way he says Steve’s name - as if someone took his vocal cords and dipped them in sweetener.

“I gotta go.” Steve reaches down and squeezes Eddie’s hand one more time before releasing it. “Call me if you remember.”

He turns around to leave, but Eddie hooks his finger into Steve’s belt loop, tugs rapidly on it. Steve’s cheeks flush right away, he can’t even hide it.

“What if I call you anyway?” Eddie plays along. “Memory or no memory?”

Steve removes Eddie’s hand. He’s about to set it back down when the last bit of caution is finally thrown out the window. Steve lays a quick kiss on Eddie’s middle finger, the finger that’s most injured. He squeezes his palm once, then returns Eddie’s hand back to him.

“Maybe I’ll call you first, Munson.”

He leaves before getting a good look at Eddie’s reception to the hand kiss. Steve has never kissed another dude’s hand before, and there’s a good possibility that he might’ve been laying the charm on too thick. Smearing it all over the moment like goddamn jelly. 

But the whole thing was just too irresistible. And Fully Flustered Eddie is a rare sight to behold, so Steve had to do something charismatic. His self-discipline hasn’t improved that much since high school.

Eddie ends up calling first. He calls nine minutes after Steve gets home.

Clingy bastard.

“Beat you to it, Harrington.”

“Not everything is competition, you know.”

“Is that so?” Eddie’s sarcasm is heavy. “Huh. Guess you do learn something new every day.”

“Easy for you to say. Your mind still has the training wheels on it.”

“Touché.”

Day 71:

It’s Saturday morning. Steve sleeps in - well, Steve does his version of sleeping in. Which basically means, the sun is fully up by the time he wakes up. Small victories.

His phone and alarm clock go off almost simultaneously. Which one: freaky. And two: annoying.

He walks over to his desk, eyes half-open, and picks up the phone.

“Hello?” Steve’s voice croaks into the speaker.

There’s no response, just a few heavy breaths.

Steve is more alert now. “Who is this?”

“I remember.”

Oh fuck. “Eddie?”

“You told me to call when I remember.” Eddie repeats. “I remember, Steve.”

“Holy shit um… okay.” Steve rubs the last bit of sleep from his eyes. Searches around his room for his keys or clothes or fuck - he really doesn’t know what he’s searching for. 

“You coming to see me or what?”

“It’s Saturday. Henderson comes to see you on Saturdays.”

“Call and tell him to take a raincheck.” Eddie demands. Rightfully excited. “Cause I fucking remember.”

“Okay, okay.”

“I remember!”

Steve is cackling at the excitement. “I fucking heard you!”

“Get your ass over here before I say it again!”

“Alright alright!” Steve hangs up. Never gets ready so fast in his whole damn life. Almost forgets to put on underwear or style his hair.

This is what he’s been waiting for.

Eddie remembers.

It’s the first time Steve feels anxious walking into the room. He’s keenly aware that both of them are in on the secret. No more whispering around the unrequited attraction. Steve is entering a space that is laid bare. No curtains or subtle implications for either of them to hide behind.

As soon as he opens the door, that’s all in the past.

“Oh shit.” Steve isn’t expecting to see Eddie in the chair when he arrives. He’s wearing gray sweatpants under his hospital gown. Steve is pretty thankful for that - not sure the effect that Eddie’s exposed thighs would have on him in this detrimental state.

“Took your seat.” Eddie is all smug. Head to toe smugness.

“I see that.”

“You can take mine, if you want.”

“I’ll pass.”

Eddie winks. “Hope that’s the last time I hear you say that today.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

There’s a stool that the doctors use in the corner of the room. Steve takes a seat on it and rolls over towards Eddie. He stops right in front of Eddie's knees and leans his face in his hand. Tries to downplay his anticipation as much as possible.

“Wanna tell me what you remember?”

Eddie takes a deep breath. He swings his arms out to the side and lets all of his air out in one go. “My tattoos - I remember when I got them.”

Steve’s shoulders drop. Shrink.

The tattoo thing happened several days before the almost-kiss. Day 52.

“Am I wrong?” 

Steve doesn’t really say anything. That’s confirmation enough.

Eddie smacks the top of his head. “Shit, I’m wrong. Made you drive all the way out here to be wrong, jesus christ.”

“Hey, hey.” Steve murmurs, keeps his voice kind. “Not entirely wrong.”

His heart feels likes a crunched-up soda can, but whatever. Yeah, Steve’s hope were set way too high, but he can’t blame Eddie for that. Eddie regained some crucial memories - that should be a good thing. It is a good thing.

“Tell me about the tattoos.” Steve rests his hand over Eddie’s knee. It’s been bouncing incessantly, but stops the second Steve touches him. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and uncover all of it by talking through it.”

“Seems stupid now.”

“Hey.” Steve is stern. “Gaining bits of yourself back is never stupid. That’s your fucking history, goddamnit.”

Steve doesn’t mean to use his coaching voice, but he does. 

It works though. Eddie stares at him for a long time before admitting that Steve is right. He gives a long sigh before continuing. “I know where and when I got all of them.”

“Fantastic.” Steve gets as comfy as he can on this small, metal stool. He flips open the binder, clicks his pen. He flips it into the air - just cause.

“Tell me all about it,” He says, catching the pen with ease.

Eddie starts out pretty deflated. He starts off in chronological order, which Steve is impressed by. Steve even tries to cheer Eddie along any time he recalls specific details like locations and dates. 

The support seems useful. Eddie stops frowning long enough to retell the story about getting a fake ID, just for tattoos. Not for drinking or for getting into clubs. Eddie wanted to be the only sophomore with tattoos.

Steve has never been interested in getting tattoos, there’s nothing he’s ever liked enough to prick needles into his skin. However, he really likes seeing them all over Eddie. All the dark lines and the passionate stories that go with them. 

They take a lunch break and snack break, both of them equally improving Eddie’s crabby mood. Eddie gets sort of winded after talking for too long, so Steve helps him to the bed.

“You don’t have to do this.” Eddie says, sticking to his usual response.

“Thought it was obvious” Steve pulls the cover over Eddie’s arms, fluffs out the sides of his pillows. “I want to.”

“Didn’t know you were such a gentleman.” Eddie observes. “Courting the sickly is a weird move though.”

Steve takes his seat back, moving it next to Eddie’s bed. Always closing more distance than he did the last time. “Good thing you’re not sickly then.”

“Courting the freak is still a weird move.”

“Well, say the word and I’ll lay off.”

Eddie mimes zipping his mouth shut, tossing the invisible key into the trash bin.

“Looks like we’re all done with your tattoo summaries.” Steve glances over the bullet points, folds the binder shut. “Anything else you wanna do?”

He’s waiting for Eddie to take his turn. Steve has been leading the affection for days, so he’s cautious about any further touching. Needs physical permission to continue.

“Actually…” Eddie shakes his head. “We’re not done with my tattoo summaries.”

“We’re not?”

“I have six tattoos, Stevie. Not five.”

That can’t be right. Dustin told Steve all about Eddie’s tattoos weeks ago. This must be Eddie’s mind messing with him.

“My memory isn’t faulty, not this time.” Eddie taps over the binder before yanking it away. “I do have another tattoo, Stevie. You’ve just never seen it.”

This dirty chess game just got way more interesting. 

There’s no point in playing it safe now. Both of them are taking risks, playing offensively. All guards are down, miles away from Indiana.

“Prove it, then.” Steve’s cheeks warm up. He can feel the blood all over, in his ears, in the tip of his nose. “Show me.”

Eddie’s teeth look sharper when he smiles this time. Like Steve’s dare has turned his bones into blades.

“Are you gonna wig out if I lift this stupid gown up?”

Yes. Steve would never admit that, but yeah. Internally, he’s wigging out so fucking hard right now.

“You’ve puked all over me, dude. If I didn’t haul ass after that, I’m not gonna haul ass after seeing your skin.”

Eddie glares at him. “Could’ve just said no, but whatever. Be a smart ass.”

“Takes one to know one.”

Eddie twists onto his side, bunching up the material and settling it under his arms. Right over his rib cage, is the sixth tattoo.

It’s a birdcage, one that’s been mangled. The metal bars are all crooked and the cage door is wide open. One of Eddie’s demobat scars goes diagonally through the body art, like those creatures were the ones to slash it open. Destroying Eddie’s body in a multitude of ways.

Steve wants to touch it, feel the healing claw marks that look so much like his own, but deeper. He hides his own scars every day with sweaters and jackets, so it’s easy to forget how connected they are. How much pain they are forced to wear. Mutated skin and mutilated minds.

One battle with death and darkness has made them more alike than society ever would have.

“Where’s the bird?” Steve finally asks, mainly to stop his hand from reaching over, brushing the black lines and red scars.

“Didn’t have a chance to get it done.”

“No?”

Eddie contorts his face. “I got this part done back in January. And I was planning to get the bird inked up on the opposite side once I graduated…” 

The last word gets all strangled in Eddie’s throat. Steve barely hears it, doesn’t really need to hear it though. He figures it out by the way Eddie’s hands become fists. How he screws his eyes shut, refusing to let the anger fuel his tears.

Steve gets it. Most of his anger turns to sadness these days too. He knows he’s not a weak person, he knows that. But when those two emotions whisk themselves into a twister, Steve feels puny. Pathetic.

He lets his fingers circle the birdcage design on Eddie’s ribs. A cage on top of another cage. He’s pretty sure Eddie did that on purpose - the guy is obsessed with wordplay. Steve makes a spiral shaper over Eddie’s skin, letting the pattern get smaller and smaller as he reaches the center of the design.

Eddie just watches him do it, Steve can feel the stare, the attention. His breathing is shallow, almost stopped. Almost like he’s holding his breath until Steve finishes whatever he’s doing.

“It suits you.” Steve says, moving his palm over to the scar now. Letting the damaged parts of Eddie receive just as much recognition as the tattoo. Eddie didn’t choose to have these markings, but it doesn’t matter. They’re here now. May as well acknowledge them. Engrave them into his history.

“The tattoo?”

Steve looks up. “All of it.”

“Steve.” Eddie tugs on Steve's arm, nails digging in harder than they need to. He almost makes the gesture feel like a question.

Steve answers it. He sits on the edge of the bed and settles one arm over Eddie’s body for support.

This is exactly where they were one week ago. Sharing the same breath, sharing the same tension.

But the resemblance to their sleep-driven moment from last week stops there. They’ve constructed something new, better. There’s anguish from the past and there’s breakable desire for their present. Last week was surreal, dreamy. This week is unrefined.

Steve can’t comprehend why he likes the rawness of today so much more.

“Am I reading this wrong?” Eddie’s hand lifts up to Steve’s cheek, thumb stroking the corner of his lips.

Steve chuckles, whisper-level laughter. “You’re stealing all of my moves here, Munson.”

"What moves?"

"I said the same thing last week."

“Wait.” Eddie’s huge eyes somehow defy science. Get bigger. “That wasn’t a dream?”

“What wasn’t a dream?” 

“That really happened?”

Steve is only half listening. “What are you talking about?”

“Well.. almost happened, I guess I should say.” Eddie is starting to ramble. "The nurses told me that I was having batshit crazy dreams all weekend long. I just assumed there was no way that could've been real."

“Can you please tell me what we’re talking about?”

Eddie is grinning, bouncing in the bed like a spring-loaded toy. “I can’t believe I thought it was a dream this whole fucking week!”

“For the love of god, Munson. Just tell me what happened in this stupid dream!”

Eddie cups Steve’s face and pulls him into a kiss. Kisses the glower right off Steve’s mouth. It only takes a split-second for Steve to react, leaning into it. Steve controls the pace to keep everything soft for Eddie’s sake. Calm hands, smooth lips, slow movements.

There’s a small cut on Eddie’s upper lip, Steve can finally feel it now. He opens his mouth enough to lick over it. Pay extra care to the fragile parts.

Eddie whines a little, his hands dropping to Steve’s collar, dragging him into his chest. Steve lets him, lets the kiss get rougher. Sloppier.

It’s clear that Eddie does not share Steve’s careful approach. He’s so grabby, so possessive. His teeth mash into Steve’s bottom lip. He takes the opportunity to bite and tug, makes Steve yelp. Teeth and kissing is usually a turn off, but god, Steve is obsessed with how Eddie does it. How greedy he is.

Steve dips his mouth in, opens up enough to let Eddie bite and lick as much as he pleases. Be greedy. His free hand is planted on Eddie’s waist, just above his bird cage tattoo. 

“Come here.” Eddie’s breath is warm, tinged with the chocolate they had on their snack break. He’s pulling Steve harder now, never breaking the kiss for long.

Steve scoots another inch, slides his hand all the way up to Eddie’s neck. “If I get any closer, I’ll be on top of you.”

“I know how physics works, Harrington.” 

“Your super-senior status says otherwise.”

“Please, shut up.” Eddie kisses him harder. His skin is extra pink everywhere Steve has pressed against him. For someone that kisses so madly, he looks so soft. Fresh-laundry soft. “Closer, baby.”

Steve sucks all of the air out of the kiss, totally startled by the nickname. He makes a sound, hopefully nothing too whorish or breathy. But Eddie definitely heard it because he’s smiling against Steve’s lips. 

Getting closer isn’t really an option with all of the wires and the unlocked door. So Steve drags his lips under Eddie’s jaw, down his neck. Improvises a way to feel closer, explore deeper.

“Holy shit, you’re good at this.” Eddie hisses, tangling his hands into Steve’s hair. 

Getting compliments on his kissing technique makes Steve preen, has to fight the urge to mark up Eddie’s already bruised neck. Explaining fresh hickies to an army of doctors would not be a pleasant task. So Steve flattens his tongue, runs it diagonally across Eddie’s collarbone. Pecks kisses over all the wet spots.

Eddie’s hands drift down to Steve’s chin, lifting his focus back up. “Steve.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re just…” Eddie’s eyes dart all over Steve’s face. He's breathing hard, his heart monitor and his pulse are at war right now. So many rhythms in their shared space. “You’re very pretty.”

“You think so?”

“The universe thinks so.” Eddie kisses Steve’s cheek - feels like tiny embers over his skin. “I’m just confirming it.”

Steve smiles, takes a minute to catch his breath. He’s finally realizing how little he’s been breathing for the last few minutes. His lungs ache the way they would after swim meets.  Rattled and burning.

"I like you too, by the way." Eddie kisses Steve’s other cheek, makes it even. “Just to clear things up.”

Eddie remembers Steve spilling his heart out yesterday.

“Consider things clear.” Steve laces their fingers together, under Eddie’s blanket. Each of them staring at the connection, both highly aware it means so much more than helpless support this time.

It means absolutely everything.

Steve’s back in the stupid chair that will never be close enough to Eddie. They lower Eddie’s bed so that Steve can rest his elbow on the side, play with Eddie’s hair just like he did with Steve last week.

He’s infatuated with how different their hair textures feel. Eddie’s hair is all frazzled and knotted. Still soft, but not like Steve’s hair. If Steve’s hair is cashmere, Eddie’s hair is woven wool.

“So you thought last Saturday was a dream, huh?” Steve questions.

“I have some crazy vivid dreams.”

Steve shakes his head. “But all that stuff I said to you. Why did you act so confused?”

“The headache medication knocked me out.” Eddie explains. “I thought you heard me talking in my sleep… saying embarrassing shit and you and your hair.”

“So you thought I was mocking you?”

Eddie hums. Very hushed.

Steve untangles his hand from Eddie’s head and sighs. “You should’ve just told me what you were thinking.”

“I know that now.”

“We could’ve been making out all week.”

“Guess we should make up for lost time then.” Eddie hooks his index finger into Steve’s sweater, tugging him closer. Always tugging.

Steve angles himself to meet Eddie in the middle, kissing him sweetly this time, less urgency. Eddie’s lips are still puffy from Steve sucking on them. He wants to do it all over again, keep them puffed-out and swollen.

The kiss is so slow and so good, that Steve only breaks away when his neck muscles start to tighten up. Too many awkward kissing positions in this hospital room - Steve wants to get Eddie into his car or his bed. The floor might be good too.

“So,” Steve threads their hands back together. “Care to fill me in on your little ‘later, sailor’ comment from last week?”

“You did work at the finest ice cream chain to ever grace Hawkins, did you not?” Eddie retorts.

“Yeah. But of all things, how did you remember that?”

Eddie pokes to the top of Steve’s head with his free hand.

“My hair?”

“Your hairspray or product or whatever you use.” Eddie ruffles it and Steve tries not to become liquid at the touch. “Apparently smells can trigger memories almost instantly.”

“Woah.” Steve makes a mental note on that.

“Very woah.”

“And what about… the club?”

“What club? Hellfire?”

“No, not Hellfire.” Steve playfully pinches the inside of Eddie's palm. “The Below Deck club.”

“Fucking hell, you know about that?” Eddie covers his face. “Somebody please, end my suffering. I can’t go on. Not like this.” 

Steve is cackling now, keeling over in his chair, almost tearing up from how much he’s laughing. And each time Eddie tells him to knock it off, he laughs harder. This is a better ab workout than he’s ever had at the gym, he should just cancel his fucking membership.

“All I’m hearing is that my ass is unforgettable.” Steve wipes a laughter-induced tear from his eye.

“Cruel.” Eddie mumbles into his hands. “This humiliation is cruel.”

Steve flips back onto the bed, yanking Eddie’s wrists away from his face. “It’s hot.”

“Drooling over an ice cream employee is hot?”

“You drooled?”

“Dear god, stop this madness.” Eddie grabs the tv remote and aims it at his face.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to rewind my mouth from saying stupid shit.”

“Eddie, chill out.” Steve takes the remote, hiding it behind his back. “I’m just glad you remember me. Even if my ass is the most memorable feature.”

“These are pretty memorable too.” Eddie smushes Steve’s cheeks, forces his lips to pucker out.

“Oh yeah?”

“And these.” Eddie squeezes Steve’s biceps. Steve rolls his eyes and wraps Eddie’s arms around him. 

They fall back into a long kiss. Visiting hours are about to end, and Sam is off on the weekends. No one is here to let Steve stay the night. So he kisses Eddie like time isn’t a factor. Steve kisses him slow and nice. Eats up any sugary sounds that leave Eddie’s mouth. Whispers how crazy he is about him any time they come up for air.

“I wish you could stay.”

Steve’s heart rips around the edges hearing Eddie say that. Christ, he wants to stay too. So fucking badly. Wants to stock up on chapstick and water so they can make out all night.

“Maybe I can come back tomorrow?” Steve suggests. “Give your bandmates the day off?”

Eddie nods, nuzzles into the crook of Steve’s neck. “Hey, Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“What if I forget about this?”

Steve hugs Eddie tighter. “Don’t say that.”

“It could happen.” Eddie peers up at him. “Fuck, I don’t want it to happen, but it could.”

“Hey hey, stop it.” Steve clicks their foreheads together and closes his eyes.

He can’t lie. He can’t tell Eddie that forgetting is impossible. But Steve can keep his eyes closed and savor every minute of today. He can hold Eddie’s kiss-warm cheeks and just hope that everything will be okay tomorrow.

Steve opens his eyes. He sees the Hawkins senior-class ring on his hand, and it gives him an idea.

“Here.” Steve plucks the ring off of his left index finger. He leans over and places it in Eddie’s drawer, right next to his dice collection. “If you remember what happened tonight, you’ll know where that ring is. Put it on tomorrow, so I can visually know that you didn’t forget. So I know it’s okay to come in here and kiss you stupid some more.”

"Like this?" Eddie kisses Steve noisily and they laugh, ignoring the shitty alternative for just a minute longer.

“And if I come in and you don’t have it on… well, I’ll be on my best behavior.” Steve gets up from the bed, crosses his fingers over his heart. “No surprise make out sessions or lewd comments, I swear.”

“You’ll be okay with that?”

That’s a tricky question, Steve doesn’t have a ‘yes or no’ answer to it. He’ll be disappointed, that’s undeniable. But he’s so far into this with Eddie. The notes and the recovery and the feelings. Everything is netted together. Steve couldn’t separate it even if he tried.

“I meant what I said yesterday. I like you, Eds.” Steve puts on a brave smile. 

“So yeah. If you forget, then it’ll be a pleasure to restart with you.”

Steve swipes Eddie’s bangs to the side so that he can give him a kiss right in the center of his forehead. Kissing the place where all of Eddie’s memories are tucked away, even the lost ones. Wishing and aching for the memories of tonight to lock into that place, stay safe and secure. 

Just stay.

Don’t get lost in there.

Please.

[onmyknees4loak]

Teach me

Lo'ak x Reader

Warnings: (Lowkey stalker and sub lo'ak) Synopsis : (Lo'ak cant seem to take his eyes off of the girl who teaches his nephew.)

Playlist I listened to while making this

Reader's POV

"Good job muffin!!" Pxe'pe one of my youngest students finally gets her threading right. She runs off to show her mother.

I'm what Jake calls a babysitter but I like to think of myself as a teacher I mean that is what I do, people leave there kids with me while they attend to there duties and I teach them things like threading, scavenging, and even healing.

"miss miss miss" i hear a small voice from behind me and feel small hands on my leg, i turn around to be met with Kame'xar, one of my little ones.

"yes what do you need sweetie" i crouch down to be at his level

"i cut my finger" a little sob comes out as he holds his hand up, i see a small bright red cut nothing to serious but still it must hurt.

"oh no sweetie come on lets go fix that up for you" i extend my arms and pick him up, i start heading to the healing tent. i look down at his finger and as im looking away from in front of me i bump into a tall stiff figure. "Oh my eywa! I am so sorry" the figure turns around, i began to panic even more. The figure is Kame'xar's uncle.

"oh my goodness Lo'ak I apologize" i say hoping he wont notice the cut on his nephew's hand.

"oh no worries ...." he pauses trying to remember my name.

"y/n my name is y/n" i tell him.

"y/n... That's a beautiful name....Oh my god Kame'xar i didn't even notice you what's up bro, have you been crying what happened?"

He looks at me wondering what happened to his nephew,

"he cut his finger we were on the way to the healing tent to fix him up."

"oh well please let me walk you there its the least i can do" Lo'ak insists.

"I mean it is only right there but sure" we began walking to the tent which is already in sight.

Once we walk into the tent i set Kame'xar down on the floor and lower to my knees to grab the healing paste. I take his hand and gently rub the paste over his cut.

Kame'xar giggles "its c-cold!" he says in a fit of giggles.

"it is isn't it" i say laughing with him.

I can feel Lo'aks watching my every move. I stand up and turn around to Lo'ak.

"Well i should be getting Kame'xar back now." I feel Kame'xar put his now healed hand in mine and start pulling me to the opening of the tent.

"Thank you y/n, bye Kame'xar ill see you at dinner" lo'ak says waiting for us to leave.

"Bye" me and Kame'xar say at the same time.

As were walking I can't help but to keep thinking about Lo'ak everyone says he,s a bad influence and all he does is get in trouble but he seems so sweet and caring- ok y/n snap out of it he didn't even know your name and you got more important things to worry about.

Lo'ak's POV

'y/n.....y/n how have i never seen her around surly i would have noticed someone that beautiful. She's so different there's just something soothing and pleasant about her.

I walk out of the healing tent and start heading to our family tent,

Oh eywa i can't get that beautiful women out of my head. I need to see her again. I change my direction and start heading to where i know neteyam drops Kame'xar off every day. As i get closer i can hear the sound of children laughing getting louder, shes so good with kids. I hope to make her laugh like that one day.

I see my girl with kids running around her, there playing a game. I keep my distance and sit on a log where others are sitting and eating fruit.

I just sit there and watch her teach and play with the kids for hours. I turn away any time she looks in my direction hoping she doesn't realize that ive been sitting here for hours.

She would never want a guy like me an outcast.

Reader's POV

I finish putting up all the kids threading projects keeping them safe for tomorrow.

"Good Bye Vaylen! I'll see you tomorrow" now all the kids have gone home for the night, and i can start heading home. i turn around to start walking in the direction of my tent when i see Lo'ak sitting looking at me when he realizes I'm looking at him he turns his head the other way. Now that i think about it he has been sitting there since i got back from the healing tent.

'Should i go talk to him?' i ask myself 'I should.'

I start walking over to him with a smile on my face, he notices me coming over and i can see his body tense up.

"Hey Lo'ak what are you doing here?" i come to a stop in front of him.

"Oh i w-was ju-just uh chillin yk" he stutters over his words.

'my god, he's so cute, i want him stuttering over his words while i ride him' omg! what the fuck is wrong with me why would i think that.

I think he could tell i just got surprised with myself.

'y/n? Are you okay?" he asks as he stands up getting closer to me.

I can feel the tension in the air as his face is suddenly a few inches from mine.

"Yeah im good" i see his eyes move down to my lips as he licks his own.

He leans in intel our lips meet and he begins kissing me, i kiss back and start getting a little more aggressive i bring my hand to the back of his head and put my fingers through his hair lightly pulling.

"mMm" Lo'ak lets out a whimper/moan.

I pull away and bring my hand down " i cant do this Lo'ak im sorry" i look down to my feet.

"Why not baby?" he asks pushing hair behind my ear.

"What would people think if they found out, im not trying to be mean but your kinda know as a bad boy yk, and i dont want people to not trust me with there kids im sorry"

I turn around to leave and i feel him grab my hand and pull me back.

"Then Teach me, teach me how to be a good boy"

[unformula1]

please. (LS2 x OP81)

logan finally has to confront his deepest want. part 3 of "changed" part 2 w/c: 968 day 33/34 of loscar posts until we get a loscar podium!!!(series masterlist) masterlist tw: swearing

You are a disappointment.

People don’t like you.

You’re an outcast.

Failure.

Logan suppresses everything he’s feeling right now: anger, rage, regret, sadness, guilt. Everything bottled up in his heart.

Pathetic.

His eyes shut tightly, but everything is clearer than crystal. All of it. Every lasting second of it feels like another shot in the heart. Every striking minute feels like salt poured into the wound. Every memory feels like a twisting dagger.

Logan starts sobbing more violently, bringing his knees up and burying his head in them. His sobs echo around the room, bouncing off the walls and back into his ears.

Worthless.

Logan whispers repeatedly, doing everything to get his thoughts away. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

His door opens.

Shit.

“Yo, Logs, I’m heading-” Alex’s voice is heard.

Logan keeps his head buried, he’s not going to let Alex see him like this.

As if this couldn’t get any worse, he hears Lando in the background. Some muffled voices but he’s with Alex.

“Mate, are you alright?” Alex’s voice softens.

Then he hears footsteps. Alex is walking closer to him, he keeps his head buried tightly, his knees press hard against his head. 

Alex’s hand touches Logan’s back, which makes him flinch. He shuts his eyes tightly and breathes.

“You said this would take a few seco-” Lando’s voice can be heard, “Oh.”

Logan continues to keep his head down as Alex sits down next to him. 

“Logan?”

Oscar? It’s Oscar’s voice. 

Logan can feel more tears brimming, but he continues to silence his sobs. 

More footsteps can be heard entering his room, the door closing afterward. Logan doesn’t react. 

“You good?” Lando kneels down in front of Logan.

Logan remains stoned in his position. How’s he going to respond, what will he even say? A tear escapes his eye and drops onto the bench cushion, Logan feels a sting in his throat.

He doesn’t know where exactly Oscar is in the room right now, but he just hopes Oscar leaves soon. He cannot let Oscar see him like this, let alone let Oscar know that Logan has been crying about him.

He shuts his eyes and hopes they all leave soon.

“Logan.” Oscar says and Logan almost feels like breaking down into tears. 

A few seconds of silence follows and he feels a weight lift off the cushion. Then footsteps, then the door opening, then the door closing.

“Logan.” Oscar’s repeats, “It’s just me now.”

That does not make Logan feel any better. Logan hates this. He wants to see Oscar but not like this. 

Oscar clears his throat and slides Logan’s phone under his knees so he sees it. His fatal mistake.

“You’re crying about me.” Oscar deapans. 

Straightforward as usual.

Now what? You’re pathetic Logan. You suck Logan.

More thoughts fog up his head. Possible outcomes, all of them are bad. 

Oscar laughs at Logan and leaves.

Oscar makes fun of Logan and calls him a sad pathetic loser.

Oscar’s hand stroking Logan’s back almost makes him flinch violently but he resists doing so. 

Oscar’s hand continues stroking up and down.

Maybe Oscar would tell everyone and embarrass him.

Oscar calls him pathetic.

“I won’t talk about it if you don’t want me to.” Oscar’s voice is soft, like when Oscar used to talk to Logan.

Is he mocking Logan?

This has got to be a joke, some sick joke. He’s probably being filmed right now.

Logan finally shakes his head. He hates his thoughts right now, they all press down on the back of his head, stopping him from lifting it up and just looking at Oscar.

“Logan, will you please… look at me.” Oscar pleads, his voice growing with concern, “I just want to see that you’re okay.”

No. NO. NO.

The voices resound louder in Logan’s head.

“Logan please.” Oscar’s voice pleads even more.

“Just for a while.” Oscar continues.

NO.

He wants to lift his head up, look at Oscar. Everything else doesn’t want him to. His mind fills up with every single bad outcome possible, all the dreaded thoughts pull him deeper into the abyss.

Logan shakes his head again.

“Just leave me alone.” Logan says, holding back his sobs.

Oscar’s hand leaves Logan’s back and it feels empty now.

Logan feels like slamming his head against a wall. What the hell is wrong with him?

“Logan, I just want to-” 

And then, just as if some external force takes over his body, he shouts, “PLEASE. JUST LEAVE.”

A small gasp escapes Oscar’s mouth and he gets up, leaving the room.

FUCK FUCK FUCK

Logan breaks down. He doesn’t hide the sobs anymore, he cries. The tears flow down his cheeks. 

What was he thinking?

Pathetic.

Failure.

Worthless.

Of course he fucked up, what was new? Logan Sargeant, the man of all mistakes, the mistake of all mistakes. 

He punches the cushion again. 

Logan just wishes he was better in everything he did. Then maybe he wouldn’t be such a disappointment. People would stop worrying so much about if he made it out alive. Everything would be so much easier.

You deserve every failure you have.

You were the problem.

You failed.

-------

A few minutes, maybe hours, pass and Logan can feel the dried up marks of tears on his face, staining his cheeks. His eyes are puffy red and his throat stings from sobbing.

He just imagines how Oscar is having fun with Lando and Alex right now, enjoying life and forgetting about Logan.

Nothing new. Mr Unmemorable. Mr Forgettable.

He wipes whatever tears can be wiped off and gets up, slotting his phone into his pocket. He straightens out his clothes and takes a deep breath, walking toward his door.

It’s late already, everyone’s probably left.

He opens the door and walks out.

“Logan-”