#band shirt was just for me but actually i think he'd like them

[revivisection]

so i played vtmb again and i think there needs to be more cringefail toreadors

[gothgoblinbabe]

Babe, I'm Gonna Leave You

(chapter 1/2)

(Logan Howlett x afab reader)

A/N: Yeah, the brain rot has reached a maximum and I've completely disregarded the consequences of a digital footprint! there's a couple descriptions of style of clothing/jewelry but you can imagine that as you please, also absolutely based off of "Babe Im Gonna Leave You" by Led Zeppelin bc idk somewhere in my delusions I think Logans a Zeppelin kinda guy and its what I've been listening to. For the sake of the plot, stick with me, you've got an imaginary ex bf and his random name I picked is gonna be Danny and he suuuucks real hard okay? okay and I need you to pretend dear lovely reader that you like led zeppelin if you don't 💔[holding your face ever so gently and smooching ur forehead] and I've seen only xmen origins, x-men, X2, and Deadpool x wolverine so pls pls forgive me if some stuff doesn't canonically fit. This is kind of cringe but I wrote too much of it to get rid of it just bare with me I beg of u and it was so long I had to split it into two parts

Summary: Meeting the infamous Wolverine got you roped into a liiiitle more than what you bargained for

Warnings: swearing, you have telekinesis and telepathy (cause that's cool, c'mon), mild angst, suggestive stuff kinda, mentions of cheating (Logan does not cheat on u I pinkie promise), Logan calls you kid but you're not actually a child lol, you're a good bit younger than him but also so is anyone else who isn't borderline immortal

Word Count: 4K

Pt 2!

[credit for text post dividers here and here]

There had been muttering here and there between the students at the academy that Wolverine was coming back after a few years on his own, confirmed when Marie recognized the motorcycle now parked in the driveway of the mansion.

"Logan!"

He was immediately wrapped into a hug by Marie at the door, dropping his bags to the floor.

"Hey, kid, miss me?"

"Maybe," she smiled sweetly, tucking the white strands of hair behind her ears.

"Long time no see, huh?" Ororo's voice interrupted from behind her, earning a hug from Logan.

"Any one else around?" he questioned, hoisting his bag up over his shoulder again.

"Scott and Jean are around here somewhere, Charles as well. Oh, and there's a couple new faces you haven't met," she responded, smiling at the way Marie's eyes lit up at the chance to mention what she had been meaning to tell Logan.

Marie gasped and said your name, grabbing Logan's arm in excitement, "you have got to meet her. She joined us a couple of months ago, I think you'll really like her. She's kind of been like...our you, when you've been gone."

He quirked an eyebrow at that, looking between the both of them for an explanation as to what that was supposed to mean.

"You'll see," Ororo chuckled lightly, "oh, you will see."

"She's here now, I think, you should go introduce yourself to her!"

Logan had swiftly caught onto Marie's adorable attempt to play cupid and gave her a nod, "maybe when I settle in, okay, kid?"

She nodded in agreement and both her and Ororo watched him walk off further down the corridor.

"How do you think it will go when they meet?" the later of the two asked earnestly once he was out of sight.

"Well," Marie paused for a moment, thinking, "they'll be inseparable or absolutely hate each other."

Ororo nodded in agreement almost immediately, holding in a small laugh.

Much later in the evening, Logan had been beckoned into the study along with Ororo, Marie, Bobby, you, Jean and Scott by Charles.

He had been the last to enter, eyes immediately settling on your unfamiliar frame stood next to Marie with your back against the wall. You had plenty of rings adorning your fingers and necklaces dangling in front of your chest in the same kind of fashion he'd seen in those magazines with the Harley biker girls. You looked a little like one of them too, in well fitting jeans adorned with a belt, a band shirt and some chunky boots, except you were very much real and not on glossy paper.

"Oh! Logan!" Marie exclaimed upon noticing his arrival, beckoning him over with her hand. That turned your attention to him and he felt like the wind may have been knocked out of him when your eyes met his. You were far prettier than any of the girls he'd seen in any magazine.

"This is her," Marie whispered to Logan when he approached and nudged his arm, referring to when she had told him about you earlier.

"This is Logan," Marie said to you, gesturing towards him and leaning a little closer to you to whisper something he wouldn't catch, "and he's single, by the way."

A grin was plastered on her face when she pulled away and you rolled your eyes, "Marie - "

"I know, I know, too soon, but I just thought that was very good information for you to know," she raised her hands and stepped away a little, still intent on watching how the two of you interact for the first time.

Logan extended a hand for you to shake and you did the same. Your hands were small in his and your skin soft to the touch. It was almost hard for him to drop your grip when he did, nervous that he'd hold it even a second too long.

Nervous. Women had rarely ever made him nervous in the hundred - something years he'd been alive, and yet he could feel his heart pounding in his ears when you ran your hands through your hair to push it out of your face.

"Nice to meet you," he finally spoke, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

This may have been a good opportunity to try out your powers a little, concentrate hard enough on the handsome stranger's face to know what exactly was playing out behind his staring gaze, but you resisted the urge to do what you considered a tad bit violating.

"Same here," you responded at last, averting your gaze for just a moment to avoid inadvertently doing exactly what you had just decided you wouldn't.

Marie and Ororo had studied the small interaction between the two of you - of course - waiting for something more to happen, only to be disappointed when the both of you nodded courtly and turned away from each other.

"Well, that's not good. He'd be on her like a dog already - " Ororo started under her breath.

"No, no, I just think..." Marie interrupted, narrowing her eyes between the two of you, "I think they just need to get to know each other."

"Honey..."

"I'm telling you, I just feel like they'd be good together, they just need a chance to get to know each other!"

"Do you really think she's ready to get with another guy?" Ororo nodded her head in your direction, lowering her voice, "after all that stuff Danny pulled?"

Marie grimaced at the mention of one of the professors names, shaking her head in mild disgust, "have you seen him lately? always coming up to her in the halls and stuff, it's sad - for him, I mean."

Before either of them could further debate the topic, Charles gained everyone's attention to discuss a series of tasks he'd assigned to you all. As he spoke, you only tuned in once you heard your name.

"You are the one I'd like to send out to complete that with Daniel."

"Could, uh, can I do it with someone else? or have him do it alone, or something?"

Logan caught the confused look Jean shot your way, tilting her head before she spoke, "You don't want to go with Danny? What happened, I thought the two of you -"

You cut her off with a sharp shake of your head, scowling, "uh-uh. Hell no. He...uh, I'll tell you about it later."

You had realized the sudden vulnerability you'd found yourself experiencing in a room full of eyes on you and cleared your throat, attempting to change the subject.

"I can hang back and keep an eye on the kids, I don't mind."

"They do love you," Ororo chimed in, "and we need someone to stay back to watch them anyway."

"They only like her so much because she allows them to break the rules," Scott remarked, earning a nudge in the arm from Jean.

You sighed, rolling your eyes, "Scott, the thing with the kids in your room was one time and it was an accident - "

"Was it? Because one of them wrote 'asshole' on my bathroom mirror with sharpie."

"They're kids, they do that kind of stuff!"

"was that really one of the kids?"

You tucked your lower lip under your teeth in an attempt to smother a laugh. Logan almost immediately did the same when you darted your eyes around the room in a guilty attempt to avoid eye contact.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me - " Scott started but Charles interrupted, holding up a hand.

"Alright, the both of you - enough. You," he continued, gesturing towards you, "may stay back with the children. Please do not allow them into anyone's personal quarters and I would advise you to hide the permanent markers for the time being, away from the children and perhaps yourself."

You nodded and hung your head low to hide the reappearing smile across your face. Logan stared inadvertently from then on, watching you twist your rings around your fingers and focusing on you intently when you spoke every now and then. When you were all dismissed by Charles and filed out of the room, you and Marie walked ahead of most of the group, almost out of ear shot.

Logan heard Jean's hushed voice behind him as she leaned into Scott, "so...what do you think happened? With Danny?"

"Who the hell is this Danny guy?" he finally asked, turning over his shoulder to interrogate the two of them.

"Well," Jean whispered your name, looking ahead to be sure you hadn't caught their conversation, "it's her boyfriend. Or was, I guess. They had a thing for awhile but they stopped hanging around each other all the sudden and she can't even stand to hear his name - she hasn't told me what it's about yet."

Logan simply hummed in acknowledgment, turning back ahead and finding his gaze caught on the sway of your hips as you walked.

"Oh no," he heard Ororo huff beside him, almost immediately following her gaze to see a guy he didn't recognize slip behind you and put an arm around your waist. Too far out of ear shot to hear the context, he watched you squirm out of the young mans grip and shake your head as you kept walking.

"Is it bad I want to get closer to hear what they're saying?" Ororo muttered, looking to the other three in her proximity.

"It's not our business," Jean reminded her.

"So, that's him?" Logan asked, gesturing to the guy still on your heels like a puppy.

"uh - huh," Ororo answered, frowning as she watched Danny make another pathetic attempt to put his arm around you.

When the two of you stopped at the far end of the hall and you told Marie it was okay to leave you, Logan, Ororo, Scott and Jean all turned the corner to the closest hallway.

"Oh, I know It's bad but I have got to know what lame excuse he's got this time," Ororo shook her head, stopping just around the corner to eavesdrop.

"Ororo - " Jean sighed, placing a gentle hand on her friend's arm, "come on."

"They're in the hallway! it's not like I'm standing outside a door," she reasoned, hushing them after so that the only voices hard were yours and Danny's.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm sorry - "

"Danny, many times do I have to tell you I don't care? Why won't you just leave me be?"

You sounded exasperated, your voice slightly muffled when you rubbed your face with your hands.

"What do you think he did?" Scott chimed in in a hushed town, now fully invested in the dialogue.

Logan was still stood there, though he wasn't too sure why. He could have and should have kept walking - let the three of them do their weird detective work - but instead found himself leaned against the wall with the rest of them.

"I love you, you know that, sweetheart, I - "

"ugh, don't call me that. You gross me the hell out, you know that?"

Both Jean and Ororo made almost the same shocked expression.

"oh, it has to be bad," Jean hissed, frowning at the venom in your tone.

"Tell me you're not still in love with me, you know you can't, we - " Danny's voice began again and yours cut him short with a sense of finality in your tone.

"Danny. I stopped being in love with you the day I walked in on you fucking another other girl."

Jean's hands flew to her mouth to muffle a shocked gasp. Scott stood with his arms crossed, his face in a grimace.

"ooh, that is bad," Ororo whispered just as a door slammed.

Logan furrowed his eyebrows, following everyone else as they continued their path down the hall again. This Danny kid had to be a real idiot.

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Weeks had passed and you shared small talk with Logan every now and then, sometimes making snarky comments here and there - though more often than not together and at Scott's expense. Funnily enough, the ability to piss Scott off so much made Logan like you even more. Maybe Marie was right, you kind of are like him.

You walked alongside him down the corridor one afternoon, intending to fulfill Ororo's request for the both of you to check in on some of the newer students.

"So, do you always do your hair like that?" you raised your eyebrows up at him, eyeing the peaks in his hair.

"Yeah. What, you don't like it?" He grinned, expecting you to make some smart remark about it.

"No, not that," you giggled, "it's like lil' cat ears, it's cute."

He looked down at you quizzically, stopping in his tracks.

"cat ears?"

"mm-hm. You're like a big kitty."

You bit down another giggle, reaching up boldly to touch his hair.

He gently swatted your hand away, still with a small grin on his face.

"Don't call me that."

"Big kitty?"

"Yes."

"Okay, kitty meow - meow."

He narrowed his eyes as you turned to continue walking in an attempt to hide the huge smile plastered on your cheeks that threatened to transform into a rather loud laugh.

"Uh-huh, whatever. You better not let anyone else hear you call me that," he huffed as he caught up to you rather easily.

As you were about to make another retort, your smile dropped at the sight of a familiar and unfriendly face that had come from around a corner.

"Christ," you squeezed your eyes shut in frustration, rubbing your forehead at the sight of your ex-boyfriend.

"Hey," Logan leaned down a little, nudging you gently, "I'm here, you're good. You're fine, don't worry about him. It's just us, alright? Walk past him like you don't even see him."

Though he'd be embarrassed to admit and absolutely deny it if anyone asked, he'd unfortunately (for himself) harbored a crush on you that only took a couple weeks to develop. He hadn't even really gotten the chance to know you yet, though that was precisely why he was glad about moments like these. He wanted to, even if he felt like a school kid with a playground crush.

You had simply nodded at his words, allowing him to place a gentle hand on your upper back to guide you down the hall with him. Even through the layer of a jacket and t-shirt, you could feel the warmth of his hand on you.

Logan remembered that moment in the hall on the first day you'd met, but never pestered you for details about what the hell went on before he got back. He figured when and if you wanted to tell him, that was up to you.

Keeping your eyes straight ahead, it took what felt like years to pass your ex-boyfriend. When you finally did, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, until his voice stopped you in your tracks.

"That's my shirt."

You whipped your head around, feeling Logan slip his arm a little further around you as a protective reflex.

"What?" you furrowed your eyebrows, looking down at your attire. The shirt, a tad oversized and well worn, was so familiar that you had completely forgotten it once did belong to him.

"I want it back," he spoke again, crossing his arms.

"Do you really want it back?"

You were beyond fed up with his pestering at this point, already having decided what may make the message clear.

"Yes."

"Okay. Fine."

You pulled away from Logan and slipped off your jacket, turning around to hand it to him. He gave you a confused look, hesitantly taking it out of your hands. In a matter of seconds, you turned back around and tugged the t-shirt up and over your head, tossing it directly at Danny's chest. You turned back and took your jacket from Logan's hands, zipping it far enough to cover your bra. In the few seconds you had stood facing him, he had done his best to keep his eyes away from your body and failed miserably, looking up after to see the asshole a few feet away already glaring at him.

"What, you're just gonna walk around like that? And what are you doing hanging out with him anyway, don't you know he - "

You groaned at the sound of Danny's voice again, gently tugging Logan by the hand in the opposite direction as you began to walk away, "yap, yap, yap - just shut the fuck up."

Logan couldn't help the smirk plastered across his face as you continued to walk, finally turning a corner. Before you could apologize to him for having to awkwardly stand witness to that, Scott's voice echoed from the stairway above you.

"Hey, Charles is looking for you two. He says he has something he needs you to take care of, he didn't say what."

"Thanks for the specifics, Scott," you replied sarcastically, "but we're supposed to check on - "

"I know," he interrupted, "I got Marie and Bobby to cover you. You're welcome, by the way."

You rolled your eyes and looked back to Logan, dreading what exactly it was Charles wanted from you.

That landed you where you were the next morning, heaving your bags into the back of Logan's truck.

"If we have to take the truck like two states over, can I at least drive?"

The plane being needed for another assignment that Jean, Scott and Ororo were assigned left the two of you with Logan's truck. You'd been asked to retrieve a rare mechanical piece needed for the construction of some new device; you'd only been half-listening when Charles started to explain the details, lost in thought after he'd mentioned it would require the two of you to sleep out overnight.

Man, that had made your chest feel tight. It had been almost physically painful trying to swallow down every tell that you really liked him for the past few weeks and now you had no choice than to be each others only company for nearly 2 days.

"Yeah, in your dreams, kid," Logan scoffed playfully and brought you back to reality, dangling the keys in his hand.

You narrowed your eyes at the keyring he began to spin around his finger. In a split second, the jangle of the metal could be heard as you snatched them from his hand with only a focused thought.

You caught them in your raised palm and tilted your head, a terribly smug smile across your cheeks.

"Looks like my dreams came true, huh?" you teased, walking past a still mildly distraught Logan to get into the drivers side.

"If you dent it, I'll kill ya," he warned as he finally slid into the passenger seat, watching your every move as you started the engine and carefully reversed out of the garage.

"Uh-huh, sure," you retorted sarcastically, "I'm terrified of the kitty claws."

"What did I say about calling me that?"

"Calling you what?" you feigned ignorance, fumbling with the knob on the stereo to change the station as your eyes stayed glued to the road.

"And don't mess with everything, kid, you'll end up breaking something. She's on old girl, you gotta - "

"Dude," you interrupted, simultaneously cranking down your window and fishing a pair of sunglasses out of his center console, "I know how to drive, chill out."

"Dude," he mocked, "this truck is probably almost as old as you, you gotta be careful."

You rolled your eyes under the shades of the worn aviators you had slipped onto your nose, simply nodding and continuing to flip through stations.

"Pick one and stick with it, will you?"

"Ooh, is someone mad I got the keys?"

Before he could say something in response, you gasped at sound of the song playing on the station you had just switched to, twisting the knob almost as far as it could go.

Logan recognized the familiar thump of "babe I'm gonna leave you" by Led Zeppelin, furrowing his eyebrows when you began to nod your head and sing along.

"You like Led Zeppelin?" he nearly had to shout over the music, leaning in to you a little further.

"Yeah," you responded, reaching over to turn the music down just enough for you to hear each other and glancing at him momentarily, "How come you're looking at me like that?"

He unfurrowed his eyebrows and shrugged, keeping his gaze on the road ahead as he spoke, " just never pegged you for a Zeppelin kind of girl, I guess."

"No? What's that supposed to mean?"

You were smiling again and it was excruciatingly difficult for him not to stare when you looked so good in the spot he usually sat with his old sunglasses on.

"Didn't think you had good taste in music."

That made you giggle and you shook your head, turning the stereo back up to a booming volume.

He watched you tap your fingers on the steering wheel to the drums as you continued to drive, occasionally moving to push your windswept hair out of your face. The morning sun shining through your open window highlighted your features perfectly and Logan sighed without a thought, unheard over the music. Jesus, he had it bad.

You could feel his stare in your peripheral vision every time he looked to you and it felt far warmer than the sun beating down on you from the opposite direction. You truly rarely ever used your developing skill of telepathy, feeling it was only justified when absolutely necessary to obtain information, but his burning gaze nearly had you veering off the road at times and his prior answer to the question of why he was looking at you that way wasn't too convincing.

With a deep breath, already wondering if it was a mistake, you kept your eyes focused to the road but gradually concentrated on the man beside you. Sometimes people's thoughts would appear as inner dialogue, other times as imagined scenarios, daydreams or visuals. You were confused, then, when you only saw an image of yourself as you were now. If you concentrated too hard, your own thoughts would transfer to Logan's mind and it would be humiliatingly obvious that you had been poking around in his consciousness and so you tried to clear your mind and try again, assuming your own mind was too preoccupied with yourself to concentrate properly.

Still, you could only see the image of yourself driving from the perspective of the passengers seat, one hand on the wheel and the other in your hair as you propped your elbow on the door. This time, though, you could hear the accompanying echo of Logan's voice over the hum of the music you had tuned out.

Is her hair always like that? I like it that way. Pretty.

You swallowed hard, fidgeting with the hair that was between your fingers. It's a compliment - innocent enough, and undeniably kind of sweet. You felt guilty then for probing his thoughts and nearly shook yourself out of it, only to realize the image in Logan's mind was no longer of just your profile. He was thinking about your legs, thighs squished against the seat of the truck.

Fuck

You nearly choked on your own saliva, clearing your throat at the echo of his voice again and immediately withdrawing yourself from his mind.

"You okay?" Logan spoke aloud, putting a gentle hand on your upper arm.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," you lied, trying with every fiber of your being to just keep all focus on the road. You knew you shouldn't have done that. It was just a thought, though, nothing said aloud to change anything between the two of you, and so you pretended the best you could that you hadn't heard or seen a thing.

About eight hours, a handful of dad rock albums and a stop to switch seats later, you finally pulled into the parking lot of the nearest motel you had found didn't have a highlighted "no vacancy" sign.

"If there's fucking bed bugs in here, I will never let you hear the end of it," you warned from the passenger seat.

"I think you'd talk my ear off till the day I die anyway," he scoffed, shifting the truck into park and pulling the keys from the ignition.

"You won't die for another hundred-something years."

"Exactly my point, honey."

You rolled your eyes and slipped out of the truck as he did, pretending the nickname hadn't made your face burn. You both grabbed your belongings and once inside you looked around the small lobby as Logan checked you in, impressed with how surprisingly clean the place seemed to be.

"Hey, is that okay?"

Logan's voice took your attention from the painting on the wall you'd been inspecting and you raised your eyebrows.

"Huh?

"Uh, there's a room left but it's only got one bed."

Your face dropped and you looked between him and the poor kid behind the counter who already looked nervous as all hell.

"You're kidding."

"We can keep driving, but we've already been on the road all day and I don't think there's another place around here for a good few miles."

He was much more calm than you expected him to be and you exhaled, thinking of the literal pain in the ass caused by sitting in the car for so many hours.

"Ugh, fine."

A/N: I had to split this in two because it was so long but If anyone likes this at all I will post da other part cause I like spewing my brain rot on the internet <3

[libraryofgage]

Good Vibrations Two

This AU got a lot more attention than I expected actually hfjdks I'm so glad everyone likes it!

Anyway, here's part two! We get some concert, some peeks at how Robin helps Steve navigate social situations, and a little Eddie having an itsy-bitsy crisis over Steve's fashion choices.

Have fun! And, as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't (especially for this one since I wrote most of it on my phone actually lmao)

----

Steve stares at the shirts laid out on his bed, arms crossed over his chest. Choosing jeans had been easy, but choosing a shirt is giving him trouble. What do you wear to a metal show at the local dive bar for a small-town band in which the lead singer is a long-time and way-out-of-your-league crush that you've been holding a candle for since the first time you saw him laugh on top of a cafeteria table?

You definitely don't show up in a plain black shirt, that's for sure.

The lights in the hall outside Steve's room flicker, switching off and on three times. Steve just barely notices, which means he doesn't get his pants scared off when Robin appears in the doorway, grinning at him while pocketing the key to the front door he'd given her months ago into a messenger bag. "Hey, dingus," she says, striding into the room and flopping onto the bed.

Steve rolls his eyes, yanking the shirts out from under her and laying them once more over Robin's stomach and legs. "What shirt should I wear?" he asks.

It takes a few seconds for Steve to look from the shirts to Robin, and she patiently waits until he's staring at her to say, "Just pick one. Nobody's gonna care what you're wearing."

"I care," Steve says, frowning as he looks back at the shirts. For the aforementioned crush reason, Steve cares very much about the shirt he wears. "What says 'Hi, we've never talked before but your music is the only thing I can hear and I think your hair is in desperate need of quality shampoo and also I've been halfway in love with you since, like, sophomore year'?"

Robin considers the question for a long moment before picking up a red sweater. "This one says 'I'm horny'," she offers.

Steve blinks, staring at the sweater for a few beats before laughing. "But I'm not," he says.

Despite looking at Robin, she happens to angle her head toward the sweater, and her response is lost on Steve. He frowns, waits until her jaw has stopped moving, and says, "I didn't get that."

After Robin first learned about Steve's deafness, he'd been overly anxious about asking her to repeat things. Somehow, it was worse to constantly ask when the person knew he couldn't hear well, if at all. But Robin had never shown annoyance; she'd just adjust her posture, make sure Steve could see her lips, and repeat her words. She does all of this now, and Steve gets to read her joking response, "Yeah, but you will be."

And, yeah, she has him there. Steve huffs and collapses onto the bed beside her, sacrificing the shirts. "I'll need a jacket," he says, turning his head to look at Robin so he can read her response.

Instead of words, though, he sees her face light up, and she jumps off the bed. Steve sits up, watching as she digs in her messenger bag before pulling out a t-shirt. "Remember when I stayed over a few weeks ago? And you let me borrow a shirt? You should wear it!"

Thankfully, Robin waits until she's done talking to throw the shirt in Steve's face. Honestly, he only understood a few words ("remember," "borrow," and "wear") but he's gathered enough context clues to get the gist of things.

He spreads the shirt out, humming at the Iron Maiden design. It's not one he wears often; for the most part, it's a shirt he wears on lazy days at home because of how soft it is. But as he's studying the design, Steve is suddenly hit with a stroke of pure genius.

He quickly changes into the shirt and then grabs a varsity jacket (not his letterman, but one he'd seen at the mall and bought on a whim because it used a nice shade of yellow) off his desk, tugging it on over the shirt but leaving it unbuttoned. After a few more seconds of digging around, he finds sneakers under the bed and tugs them on.

"Okay," he says, turning so Robin can see the outfit from every angle. He comes to a stop when he's facing her once more, hands buried in his jacket pockets, and asks, "What do you think? How's it look?"

"I think you'll give Eddie a crisis," Robin replies, wrinkling her nose at the varsity jacket. "Not, like, a bad one. But he'll probably ask where you got the shirt from."

Steve grins, thinking that sounds about perfect, and turns to study himself in the mirror. It's a surprisingly solid blend of metal and jock, and it makes him feel oddly confident, the same way he felt the first time he did his hair just right and everyone complimented it.

"Perfect," he decides. "Let's go."

----

The ride to the Hideout isn't exactly quiet, but it's not like Steve can talk and drive at the same time. So it's filled with music blasted as high as it can go on his car stereo, causing the whole vehicle to vibrate with each beat. When he finally turns the car off after parking, Robin grimaces as she rubs her ears.

She waits for Steve to be in front of her before saying, "We're putting the windows down next time."

"Oh. Sorry," Steve says, rubbing the back of his neck a little awkwardly as Robin dismissively waves off his apology.

"No, it's fine, I'm just saying. Now, let's get inside before they start."

With that, she loops her arm through Steve's and drags him into the Hideout. They're hit with a wave of cigarette smoke, spilled beer, and sweat as they walk through the door, the combined smells making Steve dizzy. He frowns, leaning closer to Robin as she squeezes his arm. He feels her thumb tap him twice, their code for asking if the other is okay.

"I'm fine," he mumbles, nodding to a table in the corner. "Let's go sit. I just need to get used to...everything."

The lights are weird, too. Despite the place being dim, the few lights that are on are flickering, and Steve is having trouble processing all the new information his (working) senses are taking in.

Thankfully, Robin pulls him over to the table he pointed to, a small circle near a stage of dubious sturdiness. It looks like it can barely hold the instruments, much less those plus the people who will play them. There's an amp on the side of the stage near the table, which means they'll have the perfect spot to feel the music's vibrations. Steve slides into one of the chairs there and closes his eyes, resting his arms on a table that is surprisingly not sticky.

He feels Robin move the other chair next to him, slide in, and start pulling things out of her bag. When Steve opens his eyes again, there's a notebook between them and a variety of pens in all different colors spread out across the open pages. Robin has already picked up a red pen and is writing with it as Steve chooses a purple one.

When Robin is done writing, she taps the page so Steve can read, "Want something to drink?"

"I'm not sure we can trust the glasses here," he writes back.

"The fact you're calling them "glasses" tells me everything. Just sit tight."

With that, Robin drops her pen, winks at Steve, and heads over to the bar where a woman is wiping the counter. Steve watches her for a few seconds before looking around at the other people in the place. Most of them are sitting in groups, talking amongst themselves. Most of them also have mustaches or beards, making it downright impossible for Steve to read their lips.

Instead, Steve just gets a dull kind of rush in his ears, an ever-present background noise he can't escape. Soon enough, maybe because he's thinking about it too much, a high-pitched ringing starts up in his right ear, growing and growing in pitch until it's all he can focus on. Steve grimaces and looks down at the notebook, trying to keep his shoulders relaxed so he doesn't look as tense as he feels. The ringing persists, and he rubs his ear like that's going to help.

His ear is still ringing, though it has started to diminish, when a water bottle is placed in front of him. Steve jerks, forcing himself to calm down as Robin slides into her seat again with a mug of beer that's more foam than anything else. "They're about to start," she says, waiting until Steve has nodded once to show understanding before taking a sip.

Steve looks up at the stage and wonders how he missed Eddie and his friends arriving. As his friends are setting up behind him, Eddie is resting one hand on the neck of his guitar and using the other to hold the mic close to his mouth. Steve can't read his lips, but Eddie's grin is a little contagious as he says something to a guy by the bar. The guy must say something back, because Eddie bursts out laughing, his head thrown back to show off a neck Steve wants to bite.

A tap on his arm brings his attention away, and he looks at the notebook to see Robin has scrawled out a transcript:

"Eddie: Thanks for coming out tonight, everyone

Guy: Fuck off, Munson

Eddie: Love you, too, Jeremy"

Steve snorts, looking up to see Robin's equally amused smile as she continues to write on another page. When he glances at the stage, Steve sees Eddie still talking into the mic, his eyes roaming over the audience until they reach Steve and Robin. Eddie seems to grip the mic tighter, and he holds Steve's eyes for a few seconds, giving just enough time for Steve to wave awkwardly before Eddie looks away. But his smile seems a little bigger than before, and Steve is happy to let himself think he caused it.

When he looks down again, Robin has finished writing, and she nudges the notebook closer to him. Eddie must talk fast, because her writing is almost indistinguishable from chicken scratch in dirt that a cat got dragged through. Thankfully, Steve is an expert at this point.

"Eddie: Anyway, you know the drill. We'll start with some Metallica, treat you to Iron Maiden, throw in a dash of Black Sabbath, and then grace you with a Corroded Coffin original. If you don't like it, not my problem."

Steve feels the beginning of the set as he finishes reading. He sits a little straighter, planting his feet firmly on the floor and placing his palms on the table with his fingers spread. Robin is still writing next to him, most likely transcribing the bits and pieces of conversation she can hear for Steve to read later and laugh at. She doesn't try to get his attention while she does, already knowing it won't be worth it after Steve has shifted into Music Mode.

In the same way that people can tell what song is playing based simply on the first note, Steve can sometimes tell based on the strength and length of the first vibration. In the same way people know the lyrics of songs after listening to them enough times, Steve knows the vibration patterns like the back of his hand. In the same way people who hear their favorite songs played live can tell when a note is wrong or a lyric is sung too fast, Steve can tell when the drummer or bassist makes tiny mistakes that wouldn't be caught otherwise.

And Steve loves it. He loves how his entire body thrums with each vibration that travels from the amp. He loves how he can close his eyes and picture a story based on the music, one that probably doesn't match the lyrics but tends to replace them in his heart. He loves that this is something he can still share with his friends, even if most of them don't realize how different his experience with music is.

So, for all the little bumps and dips that occur in the vibrations as Corroded Coffin plays, for all the tiny slips that certainly go unnoticed by anyone else, and for all the fact that Steve doesn't get to hear Eddie's voice, he can confidently say he loves the show. He's never heard the songs played like this before, and it helps diminish the gut-deep desperation for new music.

And then Corroded Coffin starts a new song. It's one Steve doesn't recognize, one with vibrations that are completely foreign to him, and he jerks his head up to watch Eddie play his guitar in an opening solo. It thrums across the floor, climbing up his legs and spreading in waves from his palms on the table. Steve feels goosebumps chase after it, a new wave washing over him when the guitar solo ends with a particularly strong vibration that's immediately followed by the drums and bass.

Eddie throws himself into the music, moving and twisting and strutting around the stage like he's playing to Madison Square Garden. Steve can't look away, the lyrics incomprehensible but replaced by the jerk of Eddie's hips and the tilt of his head and the little half-spin he does on his heel.

It ends too quickly with one final, reverberating strum that lingers in Steve's bones, burrowing into his marrows as Eddie pushes his hair back and grins into the mic. He says something breathlessly, his shoulders rising and falling rapidly as he tries to catch his breath, and Steve knows he's gone.

He's hopeless.

He's desperate.

He needs more Corroded Coffin, more Eddie, in whatever form he can get.

----

For the first time, Corroded Coffin gets genuine applause after playing. Usually, the patrons of the Hideout will politely clap (if they even notice the set is over) for about two seconds. Tonight, however, Eddie and his friends are graced with excited clapping, a few shouts, and one very strong whistle from a small table to the left of the stage. And it spreads because even rough biker dudes can fall to peer pressure when it's that enthusiastic.

So, yeah, genuine applause all because of Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley who, Eddie thinks, is surprising company for the former King of Hawkins High. No matter how unexpected, he should still thank them and ask what they thought of the set now that it's over. He carefully sets his guitar on a stand and glances over his shoulder, catching Jeff's gaze and flashing a grin. "I'll be right back," he says before jumping off the stage and heading over to Steve and Robin's table.

As he gets closer, he notices the notebook and pens spread out, colorful writing filling the pages and Steve grinning with amusement as he reads it. Robin is watching him like she's waiting for him to understand an inside joke already so they can laugh about it together. If Eddie didn't already know Robin was like him (band camp, summer after his junior year, during an unfortunate game of Seven Minutes in Heaven where they awkwardly stood in a closet together before Robin commented on his black bandana), he'd wonder if something was going on between them.

"How'd you like the set?" Eddie asks when he reaches the table, suddenly nervous enough to tug on a lock of his hair and pull it in front of his mouth.

Robin looks up, but Steve doesn't. He's still reading the notebook, snorting at whatever is written there like he didn't hear Eddie. It's not until Robin elbows him that he raises his head, eyes widening when he sees Eddie. "Sorry, could you repeat that?" Steve asks, his gaze dropping to Eddie's mouth (Eddie definitely isn't imagining that) and faltering some.

"I asked if you liked the set," Eddie says, frowning slightly as Robin grabs a pen and scribbles something on the notebook. It's too small for him to read, but he doesn't miss how Steve glances down for less than a second before his eyes light up with realization.

"Oh!" he says, looking back at Eddie and flashing a charming grin. "It was great. You guys are so loud, and I've never f-uh, heard anything like your original song before."

Eddie catches the way Steve fumbles, faltering like he wanted to say one word but forced himself to say another. Something is tugging at the back of Eddie's mind, but he can't quite grab onto it just yet. For now, he leans forward, placing both hands on the table so he can be closer to Steve. "You listen to metal often, Harrington?" he asks.

Steve stares at his mouth for a few seconds before nodding, and Eddie feels the thrill of learning something completely unexpected. "I like Black Sabbath best, but Judas Priest and Guns N' Roses are close seconds," Steve says.

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, "What do you like most about it?" He wants to know. Does Steve Harrington (King Steve, Steve "The Hair" Harrington, Steve fucking Harrington) like metal for the same reasons he does? Does he like the stories and the passion and the heavy theatricality of it all?

Steve seems to hesitate, possibly thinking about how to answer, before finally saying, "I like how it's music I can feel. When I listen to metal, it digs into my bones. Other music doesn't."

Somehow, Eddie's grin gets impossibly wider, and his cheeks are hurting from the sheer force of it. He's about to say more when Robin glances at the clock and swears under her breath. "Shit, I promised Mom I'd be home ten minutes ago," she says, grabbing the pens and recklessly throwing them into her bag.

It's the movement that seems to catch Steve's attention, and he looks down at Robin's hands before looking up at the clock. "Oh, fuck, your curfew," he says, looking at Robin like she hadn't just said the same thing two seconds ago.

"Yeah, no shit, dingus," Robin says, pausing long enough to speak while looking straight at Steve before throwing the notebook into her bag, too. She jumps to her feet and hauls Steve out of the chair, making his varsity jacket fall open to reveal an Iron Maiden shirt.

And Eddie thinks his heart just about stops. He doesn't know why, but seeing Steve in a metal band shirt under an undeniably jock jacket makes him feel....something. This is, like, sacrilege, right? How dare Steve Harrington allow Metal and Jock to meet? Doesn't he know the two styles clash? Or, well, they're supposed to clash, but Steve somehow wears them well, and Eddie thinks he's upset and annoyed by the fact.

Before Eddie can analyze that feeling, Steve says, "Sorry to run, Eddie. You played really well. Let me know when the next show is."

There's a lot to unpack there, too. Steve Harrington wants to come to another Corroded Coffin gig. Steve Harrington is sorry he has to cut the conversation short. Steve Harrington thinks his band played really well. Before Eddie can say anything in response, Robin is dragging Steve away, throwing a goodbye over her shoulder.

Eddie doesn't want Steve to go without something, though, some kind of departing word, so he shouts, "See ya later, big boy!"

Steve doesn't look back, but Robin nearly trips over the doorway. She then pauses long enough to say something to Steve, watching with sheer delight as he splutters and glances at Eddie before dragging her through the door. Eddie couldn't stop the grin if he tried, and he didn't try.

Later, when Eddie is sprawled on the floor of his room, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about Steve's stupid combination of Metal and Jock, he'll be struck by a sudden, consuming thought. What if Steve was wearing just the Iron Maiden shirt? What if he wore just the jacket?

Eddie swallows around the sudden lump in his throat, his mouth going dry as he scrambles to his feet and gets ready to take a very, very cold shower.

----

Tag List (the tag list is completely filled up! There definitely wasn't enough room for everyone who requested a tag orz

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[fuctacles]

Trans is fine, but you better not be a Swiftie!

For @subeddieweek Day 5 | T | 1502 | cw: hinted transphobia | transfem Steve, PDA, rockstar Eddie, jealousy, possesive Stevie, bitchy Stevie | Ao3 Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Ao3

It took the whole of Corroded Coffin to convince her to go to the concert. It may make her sound like an unsupportive girlfriend, but she hasn't been to any of their gigs in months. Eddie never complained about it, aware that metal concerts aren't for everyone, even if they do like the music. She's also hit a weird stage in her transition when she didn't feel like going to public events. 

But here she was, at their first solo concert, no festival to crutch on. In the newest band t-shirt, one she saw through every stage of designing, her tits barely making a dent (Eddie had a different opinion on that topic), while two skanks next to her had her cleavages on full display in their tiny cut-up t-shirts.

They were in the VIP lounge, waiting for the band to emerge from backstage. Stevie could have been there with them, but the rush and heat behind a concert like this gave her a worse headache than the actual music. So instead, she had to sit there with two textbook examples of a groupie. And one of them looked meaner than Carol, back from high school, when she didn't get her chocolate pudding.

"You sure you're in the right place?" one of them finally speaks up.

Stevie looks pointedly at her band t-shirt. 

"Is this not a Taylor Swift concert?" she asks, eyes going wide. The second girl presses her lips, holding back a laugh. The first one narrows her eyes, though. 

"Don't sass me, girlie, you know what I mean," she hisses. "Wearing plain jeans and a hoodie to meet Eddie Munson? That's so disrespectful."

Stevie wouldn't call her jeans plain. They were expensive mom-cut and made her ass look good. The girl didn't need to know she treated them like a premium version of sweatpants. And the hoodie was Eddie's. He gave it to her before going on stage tonight. 

She shrugs off her words.

"I don't think he'll mind."

The girl scoffs. 

"Oh, he's too nice to say anything, but he'll know you're a poser. Who goes to a metal concert dressed like that? He'd never go for you."

Stevie raises her eyebrows, taken aback.

"Excuse me?"

"Excuse you," the girl barks back, nonsensically. Her friend touches her arm as if giving her a sign to back dial it down, but she either doesn't notice or chooses to ignore her. "You don't look like you're here for the music, hell, you probably can't name a single song!"

(Stevie named some of them herself.)

"So you must be here for Eddie," she concludes with a sneer. 

"Well, I am here for him," Stevie deadpans truthfully. This seems to further fuel her VIP lounge companion.

"Keep dreaming. He's into real metalheads," she says haughtily, popping the collar of her battle vest. It's so cartoonish it takes everything from Stevie not to burst out laughing. "What do you even listen to? Country?"

"Taylor Swift, I already told you."

"See, Eddie hates normies like you. Swifties are so fucking mainstream, you'll just embarrass yourself. Maybe you should go," she suggests with a pointed look.

Stevie gives her a pitying smile back. Clearly, she wasn't as big of a fan as she claimed to be if she hadn't seen the photos of Eddie in official Taylor Swift merch that were trending just a couple of months ago. 

"Eddie's looking for someone real, not a fake bitch like you."

She was going to play nice, but that was taking it too far. She felt her hackles rise and her face turned into a frown.

But before she could say anything, the second girl slapped her friend on the chest.

"What the fuck, dude?! You can't just say shit like that!"

"Like what?!" She slaps her back. "Do you think she actually cares about their music? She screams fake pop shit!" She throws her hand back, motioning at Stevie.

Who was too taken aback to react at this point.

"Fuck, I thought you were being transphobic." The girl lets out a nervous laugh. "Sorry."

"What?" The first girl takes a glance back at Stevie like she hasn't noticed before. It was kind of flattering, considering she wasn't that far in her transition, but she wouldn't take an idiot's oversight as a compliment. "I don't care about that! Mainstream music is a bigger sin than being transgender!"

"I'll drink to that."

The band chose this moment to appear at the steps to the lounge, Eddie raising the water bottle in his hand in a mock cheer. 

"Eddie!" The two girls stand up in unison, and it takes all of Stephanie's willpower not to roll her eyes. Instead, she gives a wry smile to Jeff, who seems to be in a similar state of mind.

"We're here too, you know," he murmurs under his breath. 

Gareth nudges his arm.

"Well, I'm glad they're not here for me," he whispers back.

Stevie snorts after hearing that, but the girls are none the wiser, too preoccupied with their beloved frontman.

"Hello ladies, hope you didn't wait too long," he greets them, accepting their enthusiastic hugs and letting them kiss his cheek. 

Stevie keeps her face carefully neutral.

"It's okay, we know you're exhausted after the concert." The first girl smiles sweetly at him, and it's becoming increasingly difficult for Stevie not to gag at the shift in attitude. "I'd wait the whole night to meet you." She might need a bucket right now.

Eddie laughs nervously, taking a step back to put some distance between them.

"Ashley and Xena, right?" he asks.

"I'm Xena!" The girl exclaims, clearly proud of her unusual name. Stevie does roll her eyes this time.

Gareth appears in front of her, snickering, and she punches him softly in the thigh before raising the same fist to fist bump him. He offers her the tray of cookies he picked up from the table.

"Hi. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine." She shrugs and picks up one of the cookies. "Thanks."

He nods and retreats to one of the couches. There are three of them, set up in a triangle around a table with snacks and drinks. Which is very convenient, making Stevie think Chrissy has planned it out.

"You already know them, but it's rude not to introduce my friend." Eddie grins, making room for the rest of the band to properly greet the fans. "This is Jeff, Gareth, and Grizzly the Teddy-bear. He gives the best hugs," he says with a grin. Ted rolls his eyes.

"Just Ted is fine. But I do give the best hugs." He grins.

Eddie leaves them to it and finally goes to sit next to his girlfriend, throwing his arms over the back of the sofa and sinking into the cushions.

"I'm so tired," he groans. 

"Too tired to greet me properly?" she asks with a raised eyebrow. She can feel the eyes of the other girls on them.

"Never." Eddie raises his head immediately. "Sorry, baby." He leans in to kiss her on the cheek, but she moves her head away.

"I said properly," she repeats, but her tone shifts into her more authoritative one. He hesitates for a millisecond, but his eyes don't even shift away to look at their surroundings. Stevie enjoys the power trip, seeing him uncaring of who's looking and where they are.

"Of course, sorry," he amends, straightening up to go in for a proper kiss.

He lets out a surprised whimper when she dominates it immediately, grasping his chin and claiming his mouth like she's been starving for it throughout the whole concert. Eddie goes limp in her grasp, but she wants to make it clear who he belongs to. She grabs his knee possessively, angling him even more towards her, and her other hand moves from his chin to his hair. His locks are damp with sweat after the concert, but she doesn't mind, because it's exactly how she likes him. Dirty, unkempt, falling apart under her hands. 

She tugs at his hair, messing further the haphazard bun he's tied it into. He sighs, melting further into her, and it makes it easier to grasp his thighs and pull him into her lap. They finally part with a wet smack, and she can look into her boyfriend's glossy eyes.

"There's my good boy," she praises. "Hi."

"Hi," he croaks back with a dazed smile.

"Booo, get a room!" one of their friends speaks up. 

Eddie groans and hides in the crook of her neck, too weak from the kiss to face the teasing yet. So Stevie takes over the social interaction for him, lacing her hands together at the small of his back while he collects himself. She sticks out her tongue to Gareth.

"Shut up, we'll behave now," she says, before turning to the two girls, her jaws shattered on the floor and there to stay for her to stomp on. She smiles charmingly at them. "You guys were saying?"

Shameless plug: @stevieweek

[vampirevatican]

judd's shirt, and how he smells...

he's gonna have a musk. like canon wise it'd be after sharpening his knives or like he's working out or something but he's got man musk

i like to think the birch household actually has good shampoo and skincare stuff, though i also am a firm believer that only elliot, leah and diane have an actual routine

judd? literally any soap, though nothing with a flowery scent?? like motherfucker smells like the woods. he's got an earthy smell to him. like i think he's the only one in the house that uses irish spring or like very plain ivory soap.

to the ppl that think he'd use a 13 in 1. i need you to stop. his hygiene routine is very simple but ima need some respect put on this man because how else is he gonna maintain that hairstyle? not to mention dude is definitely a go-getter.

anyway he just has... boy/man/male scent, ya know? like that common smell between all cologne and men's soap? yeah that.

so with that context... you've taken some of his shirts, for girlfriend reasons.

ya know like, when he's not around and you wanna pretend he's there. or you just don't feel good and wanna think about him comforting you... it's for emersion you swear!

----------------MDNI (nsfw below)-------------

yeah right you're getting off to that shit.

sure you could put it on a pillow and think about him being there

could cuddle with pillow judd or if you have a huge stuffed animal that works too

but ik why you clicked 'read more' and yeah i get it

jessie was onto something... and so was a manga i read...

just taking his shirt and keeping it for a bit? and you just take a big whiff... a deep sniff. oh yeah.

at some point his werid ass ziplocs his most sweaty shirts and keeps them just for you

doesn't point out why or explains, just points you to where he keeps them.

Looking in the drawer you find a couple of plain and graphic tees in rows. Lined up, side by side and in... ziploc bags? You look back at him and he looks at you, shirtless and dead lifting weights. "What." he sounds so nonchalant, neutral tone, same as always. "You're just gonna let me have them now?" He continues lifting and looking at a wall with a couple band posters on it. "Better than you being a klepto over my shit." He smirks slightly and looks back at you, "What? You don't want them, princess?" You squint, mainly at the pet name and was going to argue but just pouted and looked away grabbing the shirts and stuffing them into your overnight bag. "Yes." you mutter and he laughs.

[samgelina-jolie]

It all started a week ago. Steve had come along to The Hideout, decked in his darkest polo shirt. It was the first gig he'd come to since him and Eddie had officially- as Robin put it- 'got their shit together'.

Steve had met the band plenty of times already, and while they'd been pretty standoffish at first, he liked to think he got along with them pretty well. Jeff actually shared a similar taste in music (even admitting to liking ABBA because it reminded him of his mother) and he'd known enough about Star Wars and a mix of Dustin's interests to win over Seth. It was harder to read Gareth, but Steve had assumed they were at least acquaintances.

That was until Steve had walked up to the bar where Gareth was talking to some girl, and then Gareth had said the meanest thing imaginable.

"He's my buddy's boyfriend."

Eddie hadn't seen what the big deal was. But Steve understood the importance of befriending your partner's best friend.

Well, back in high school, Steve had never really bothered with his girlfriend's friends. He'd focused on putting in effort with the girls he found attractive, wooing them with flowers and gifts. The girls who he wanted to like him did, he didn't really care how much the other girls didn't. The only job the best friend really had in his mind was picking up the pieces after he left those girls in the dust.

That was all before Nancy, of course. She'd been so adamant about him making an impression on Barb, so he'd tried. He invited her to parties, kept Carol and Tommy off her back, even tried to back her up once or twice when Barb and Nancy were bickering.

And it worked out... kind of. Barb had still rolled her eyes whenever Steve opened his mouth, but she was also the one who pulled him aside and saved him a whole lot of embarrassment and heartache.

"I'm telling you this because I would want to know, and because I guess you're not the worst person in the world. Nancy has been hanging out with Jonathan a lot lately... I just think maybe you should pay a bit more attention to it."

But besides him and Nancy as a couple not working out, he'd realised how important being on good terms with the person you're dating's friends is to being a good boyfriend. Which is why it was integral that he became proper friends with Eddie's best friend.

--

"What are you wearing?"

Steve had just walked into the Munson trailer. He'd spent nearly an hour trying to perfect his hair, so he's mildly offended that his outfit is the first thing his boyfriend noticed. Steve glanced down at his shirt with the huge Green Day logo printed onto it. He wasn't sure why Eddie looked so appalled, it wasn't dirty or anything.

"Oh, Gareth let me borrow it. Cute right?" Eddie's nose scrunched up even further, full on glaring at the offensive item.

"I can't let you into my room with that shirt on."

"Well hopefully once we get to your room neither of us will have our shirts on" Steve chuckled, leaning in for a kiss but Eddie turned his head.

"I'm serious, big boy. The polos and tight jeans, you're whole hot preppy look actually, that all really does it for me and you know it. But this?" He pulled at the fabric of the shirt. "This is the one piece of clothing I never want to see you in."

Steve scoffed. Eddie pushed him gently away with a shake of his head.

"I'm turning off the benefits."

"What benefits?"

"The sex benefits, no more sex until you admit you're not a Green Day fan and we burn that shirt."

"Eddie this is my in with Gareth! He's finally starting to warm up to me." Steve whined. "Besides, you can't just, like, turn off us having sex!"

"Oh yes I can. All I have to do is think about you in this abominable outfit and my boner just-" He whistles, imitating his finger deflating. Steve pouted. He knew rationally he could just give Gareth back the shirt, but that would mean embarrassingly admitting he didn't like Green Day to Gareth and then trying to find another in with him.

So no, Eddie was just being unreasonable.

Anyway, he was totally bluffing about the sex. Steve hoped.

--

"It's been five days Robin! I mean, we haven't gone that long without having sex since.. since we started having sex!" Steve cried, following the woman around as she restocked the shelves. Even though he couldn't see her face he could tell she was rolling her eyes.

It was a serious situation though, at least in Steve's opinion. He and Eddie hung out all the time, and while he obviously enjoyed doing other things with his boyfriend, he wished the other man would at least have the decency to not be so sexy while performing daily tasks. Steve had been this close to jumping him in the frozen food section of the grocery store yesterday.

And he knew he wasn't the only desperate one, Eddie was suffering too. Obviously he'd assumed Steve would cave after a day, because he'd been all jumpy and grouchy for nearly a week. And he kept making that face that Steve recognised all too well whenever Steve did anything even slightly suggestive. Like when he'd bent down to put his laundry in the dryer, and when he turned back around Eddie was beet red and avoiding eye contact.

"Have you tried breaking out the old Harrington seduction techniques yet?" Robin shrugged, obviously not bothered by the fact her best friend was on the verge of death due to lack-of-sex-with-his-really-hot-boyfriend disease.

The thing was, he had tried his old methods. He tried wearing tighter shirts, that strained around his arms and showed off his midriff (but always making sure he was wearing some kind of Green Day memorabilia, because damn him if he wasn't going to be right about this). He'd invited Eddie along to his and Lucas' basketball game. He even tried straight up begging, knowing how much that usually gets Eddie worked up.

And nothing!

Although, there was still one move he hadn't tried yet...

--

"You want to what?" Eddie shot him an incredulous look.

"Help you study, of course. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't help you with your problems? Besides I have this really neat method to help you revise." Steve let himself into the trailer and Eddie's room. He wasn't wearing a Green Day shirt today, but he did have a wristband, something he knew Eddie had spotted already as he walked into the room with his arms crossed.

"Right. And what method would this be?"

"Every time you get an answer right, I take off a item of clothing, and vice versa." Steve plopped himself down on the unmade bed, which he'd missed dearly. Eddie hadn't even let them take naps together in his room, insisting 'spooning almost always leads to sex with you'.

Eddie considered his offer carefully, before nodding with a shit eating grin. Steve cheered internally.

"Great!" Steve smiled before adding "Your rings all count as one item by the way." He tried not to look too smug at the way Eddie's confident grin faltered.

The game reached its boiling point very quick. Eddie had known more about Geography then Steve had expected, which reflected in the fact he only had his boxers and one sock left on. Eddie, however, wasn't doing too much better, sat in only his jeans (and Steve suspected no underwear underneath).

He's not sure who kissed who first, but suddenly Steve was pressed against the mattress, Eddie's thigh between his legs. Excitement coursed through him, his body so receptive to Eddie's touch after so long he wasn't even embarrassed at the noises he was letting out. His hips bucked up, causing Eddie to groan into his mouth.

"So the Green Day thing?" Eddie mumbled between kisses down Steve's neck. The noise Steve made was loud and high pitched, almost drowning out the man's next words. "It's over then?"

Steve paused, the hand that had been trailing down his boyfriend's chest pushed firmly against him as he pulled away.

"Over because you've let it go, right?" He mumbled. Eddie pulled back, his lips red and glossy.

"No, over because you let it go?" Steve huffed, sitting up and pulling his clothes back on. He tugged his jeans on in annoyance, storming out of the bedroom.

"You know what, I'm turning off the benefits now! No sex until you admit Green Day are better than... than Dio!" Steve yelled. He was irritated and extremely worked up but he was also incredibly stubborn. He heard a squawk of protest from behind him as he made his way outside.

"That wasn't even the rule!" Eddie called out, but Steve ignored him. He was not loosing this fight.

--

Listen, Metal music was fine, Steve endured listening to it with Eddie like he endured watching sports games with Steve. He was content in the knowledge that not loving every single one of each other's interest didn't mean they didn't love each other.

Punk was fine too, it still wasn't Steve's thing really, but it was okay and while Steve couldn't tell the difference, according to Gareth there was one. A huge one, if the way he'd been ranting about it for the past hour was anything to go by.

But between fighting with his boyfriend (because it was a genuine fight at this point), not having any sex for nearly two weeks, and being stuck listening to someone talk about something you have no interest in for hours, Steve couldn't take it anymore.

"I don't like punk music! I listen to Queen and Cyndi Lauper and sometimes Madonna and happy music that I can dance to without thinking about America's political landscape!" He blurted out. Gareth stopped his rambling about how Rob Harper was a better drummer than Pete Something, flashing Steve a confused expression.

"Then why were you pretending to?" He asked.

"I... I just didn't want you to just see me as 'Eddie's boyfriend'. I wanted to be your friend and Jeff told me you like punk music so I brought it up and..."

"Look, you are Eddie's boyfriend. Yeah, you're an okay dude, but I can acknowledge that without us having to do the whole friendship thing too, you know?" Gareth shrugged. Steve deflated.

"Right." He said, quickly making an excuse and leaving. Gareth shrugged off the weird feeling the guy's sad puppy dog eyed had given him, grabbing Steve's fries.

He felt kind of embarrassed that he'd been talking for ages with someone who didn't even care. He supposed it was nice of Steve to make the effort, Gareth wasn't aware he'd been trying so hard honestly. Jeff and Seth had warmed up to him pretty quickly but he thought that was just because they were just softies that were no immune to the 'Harrington Charm'.

"Steve?!" A loud yell startled him out of his thoughts.

Eddie stormed into the bar, wearing- holy shit, Gareth felt like he must have hit his head and started hallucinating. This day had taken such a weird turn, because there Eddie Munson stood before him decked out in a 'I heart Green Day' shirt. He also looked like it was taking every ounce of self control not to rip it off his body like it burned.

"Finally come around on the punk scene, Munson?" Gareth chortled. Eddie threw a fry at his face.

"Shut your trap, I need to find Steve before one of the gremlins sees me in this, they're too impressionable." He muttered, taking a seat as he looked around the bar.

"If this is a Steve thing you can stop anyway man, he admitted he doesn't really like them that much. It's kind of weird I mean, who lies about being into something to get someone to like them?"

"Dude, I spent the whole summer eating ice cream as a lactose intolerant person because Steve worked at Scoops Ahoy. He was just trying to find something for you to be friends about." Eddie shot him an unimpressed look, which Gareth thought was a bit high-and-mighty considering he just admitted to basically poisoning himself on a weekly basis for a guy he'd thought was straight at the time.

"Why exactly?"

"I don't know, Steve likes being close to people? He's basically besties with his ex girlfriend, man. Why are you so adamant he can't be yours?" Gareth considered this.

He remembered when Eddie had first told the band he was dating Steve Harrington. They'd all thought he was kidding, but there he was at their next rehearsal, cheering them on and spending his breaks holding Eddie's hand.

Gareth thought maybe it was a joke to Steve. Messing with the guy who likes men by making him think he has a shot with the former prom king. He thought it would end with Eddie in tears, and that had probably made him a bit more defensive than he needed to be. Maybe there was a small part of him, no matter how great Steve seemed, that still believed the guy was setting his best friend up for heartbreak.

"Look, I get that you might have reservations about him. But all I'm saying is- and I've got about a dozen preschoolers and multiple full grown adults that would back me up- Steve Harrington is a pretty great friend to have. So if he offers you friendship, you should take it." Eddie snatched a handful of fries as he got up, leaving Gareth alone at the bar.

--

Steve was half way out the door, wearing nothing but Eddie's Dio vest and grey sweatpants when he saw Eddie. He was standing in front of him, eyeing Steve like a starved man presented with a stake. Steve guessed he probably had a similar look, smiling at the Green Day shirt the man was wearing.

"Oh my god take your pants off." Eddie basically growled, slamming the front door to Steve's house shut as he stalked towards him. He pulled Steve into a ferocious kiss, hands quickly travelling down to his ass.

"Leave the shirt on." Steve gasped out. Eddie let out a muffled groan into his neck. They ran to the bedroom, loosing the vest and both of their pants on the way.

--

"Steve? You home, man?" Gareth heard a loud noise inside, followed by hopping, then Steve opened the door slightly. He was sweaty and shirtless, and his hair was a mess. He'd probably just been working out or whatever jocks did in their spare time.

"Listen, I'm sorry about what I said at the bar. You're a cool guy, I'd like for us to be friends, really. I even thought of something we could bond over; haircare. I've actually been meaning to ask you for some tips anyway." He admitted. Steve beamed, Gareth was almost scared the incredibly sweaty man was about to pull him into a hug. He didn't, he just kept smiling.

"That's real nice for you two, maybe next he'll ask you to prom!" Eddie's voice rang out from somewhere behind the door. Steve flushed a little and hushed him. Gareth was kind of confused as to why Eddie voice sounded so coarse and breathless, he didn't think Eddie had ever voluntarily exercised in his life.

"I would really like that, Gareth. I'll tell you everything you need to know, come by anytime. Except right now." He smiled again before slamming the door. Gareth heard more noises inside, wondering what the fuck they were up to until he heard a loud moan. Oh God, Gareth started running.

Still, he couldn't help but smile. It was always nice to make more friends.

[chewnotchoke]

boynextdoor as rockstars

warnings: the fruit of my sleepless night! , just a random (not really) brainrot, short

rockstarnextdoor

sungho - lead guitar

𓍯 very crazy with solos + insane tapping skills

𓍯 also him teasing fans while biting onto his guitar pick??!!

𓍯 strat player! sometimes switches to les paul (stratocaster and les paul are type of guitars! there's telecaster too)

𓍯 sometimes do back up vocals and harmonies

𓍯 check out this sungho fanart to better visualize !

riwoo - vocalist

𓍯 as much as i love sungho's voice, i think riwoo's vocal tone would fit more with band songs. we know he's a main dancer but this man is also a Singer

𓍯 doesn't do anything too crazy on stage but he would definitely maximize the platform while making sure everyone still gets the spotlight

𓍯 gets the most interactive with fans. stage flirting? he would point someone from the crowd and crouch down at the edge of the stage while singing to them.

𓍯 this ! is rockstar riwoo he's so hot wth

jaehyun - rhythm guitar

𓍯 grew up listening to lady gaga but his current favorite band would be arctic monkeys

𓍯 he's also good with lead guitar and making solos on the spot

𓍯 depending on the song, he would also be strat player or use acoustic guitar

𓍯 actually no definite position because he's an all-rounder. he sometimes fills in for sungho when the latter is busy. the first intrument he learned was the drums!

taesan - drums

𓍯 def the type of drummer who loves to show off his arms while playing + also likely to wear bandanas during performances and short-sleeved shirts

𓍯 his way to flirt with fans is poking the inside of his cheeks with his tongue while twirling the drumstick between his fingers + loves doing tricks with drum sticks

𓍯 cymbal addict lmao but he also loves halftime breakdowns (he's so hot for this) i think he'd hit the drums even when it isn't needed just to tease the members. (check here)

leehan - keys!!!

𓍯 used to take piano lessons as a kid, and leaning more into classical pieces when he was young

𓍯 very chill on stage but always hypes the crowd with cool ass riffs

𓍯 he doesn't need to do anything extravagant to be honest because his dimples would do the job

𓍯 never forgets to maintain contact with the crowd while playing. at this point he could perform and pull off a piece blindfolded

woonhak - bass guitar

𓍯 avril lavigne listener

𓍯 when he doesn't have enough practice, he plays along with the rhythm with lit improvised basslines. also doesn't play by the book. the rest of his hyungs can't argue with it bcs he's undeniably good.

𓍯 frequently sticks his tongue out when performing LOL + myungjae and sungho's student

𓍯 the most active member on stage, jumps a lot non-locomotor.

𓍯 would decorate his guitar like this!

i hope you guys liked this! feel free to send me some request as well or slide into my dms <3 check my other works too !

[sugawhaaa]

I HEARD THE CALL FOR XH⁉️

The idea of seeing Jun Han act fully comfortable with you… he seems so shy and sweet but he’s actually just a silly goofy freak and I love him

JUNHAN DRABBLE༘⋆🌷🫧💭₊˚ෆ

Warnings:: none 🥰

Genre::fluff, gender neutral reader

A//N:: YOU HEARD CORRECTLY 😍😍😍 sorry if this isn't what you wanted but I wasn't 100% sure what exactly you wanted so here we go

When in public Junhan still keeps his quiet energy, he isn't afraid to be intimate with you in public though. Kisses, holding hands, wearing matching jewelry he doesn't really mind

When at home, just you and him, he's just a silly little goober

He likes to rant about things he's interested in, animes, books, movies, bands, etc

He likes to mess around a lot, just childish little squabbles

He likes to play chess and board games with you, he pretends to get overly competitive but eventually it becomes seriously competitive

Don't ask me why but he'd love to brush and style your hair and do your nails

In the mornings you both brush your teeth together

Whenever doing the dishes or around anything with water he'd do the thing where he flicks the water at you from his hands

He hogs the blanket at night, you often bicker about it

He steals your jewelry secretly

You steal his sweaters and shirts

He loves to hold you close to him, putting his forehead on yours between soft kisses

You share airpods very often

He plays little songs on guitar for you and sometimes bullies you in them

"I hate it when you snore~🎶 your very annoying when you're hungry~🎶 but in the end I'll always adore you~🎶"

Inside jokes 🤝

Sends dumb photos to you

Would take a photo of you and ask "you wanna see it?" Then he'd show you a photo of rat from ratatouille or something

Matching Halloween costumes (if you celebrate it)

Reads books to you at night to help you sleep

You watch asmr together even though people say it's weird

Tickle fights. He isn't ticklish but loves to tease you

Feeding you is embarrassing for you but he adores it

He would be honest when you ask for his opinion on something but instead of just being like that's ugly he gives you advice. "Do you think this shirt looks good with this cardigan?" "Not really, but I think this one would look nice on you,"

Snuggle bug most of the time

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩𐙚

[felixdragonheartofficial]

TFA TEAM PRIME HUMAN REDESIGNS FINALLY

FUCK

+headcannons

Optimus: gotta stay focused

looks too old compared to his bot form.

I find it impossible for Optimus to be more than a million years old in this canon. In the least, he's older than 1000 years and since we have mfs that are canonically over 70 million years old(fagatron iykyk) compared to that, he feels like a dude in his early-to-mid-30's being the group parent.

---

-I made him more youthful, gave him curly hair, and tailored his clothing to actually look like his bot form.

-workaholic

-on the cusp of barley being able to hold his liquor

-doesn't own a pair of pajamas until Sari gets some for him

-usually forgets to put them on, but appreciates the gesture

-stays active for like, 3 days until he can't fight off sleep with work brain anymore, and unceremoniously passes out on the couch to sleep for a full 24 hours

-ratchet sighs and puts a blanket over him as per routine

-frequently checks security feed

-elf on the shelf despiser

-early morning talks with jazz and ratchet over coffee (they all wake up at 6 am)

-half thrives on caffeine and a vigorous training protocol

-is a dog person, loves German shepherds to death

David sama, pls forgive me ily very much

Ratchet: to old for this nonsense

doesn't match his body type in the slightest.

Ratchet is really old, he's got a sallow face and a gramp gut, how dare they square him. He's wayyy too angular and peachy looking.

-I gave him his luscious curves back, adding all the equipment id expect a field medic to have because he is a field medic, not a regular doctor. I changed his facial proportions, and also made his face gaunt, for that dead inside PTSD look.

---

-drinks his coffee black with brown sugar, literally drinks it piping hot

-is one of those old people who complains about noise

-confiscates bumblebee and Sari's toy cars, and puts them in a high up cabinet

-neither of them know how to bypass the child safety lock lmao

-casual clothes includes a lot- a l o t of plaid shirts, and 10 pairs of the same blue jeans

-tunes out bulkhead and prowls convos about birdwatching

-big fan of political satire dramas

-Sentinel doesn't approve

-Ratchet doesn't give a rats ass about what he thinks of course

Bumblebee: professional smart-ass

doesn't match his body type/age.

Bumblebees holoform is presented as a 10-12 year old child specifically for the fact that he's short, and the comedic relief. Total ass

I set his human age as 19-20 years old, making him more of a big brother to sari because that og model is disappointingly lackluster

---

-Bumblebee is a scrappy wisecracking punk, like an adhd kid who just got roller skates for Christmas.

-since he doesn't have wheels, I feel like he'd wear skates instead to emulate the feeling

-terrible at watching where he's going cuz he's too busy trying to show off, so ratchet makes him wear all that padding + training wheels

-legit despises the padding and training wheels

-Jealous of Blurr for mastering roller blades lmao.

-his favorite games are choose your fighter and fps

-saw ONE ancient ass assassins creed playthrough and begged ratchet to install hidden tasers in his arm bands (was denied)

-Sari used her key to do it instead

-self appointed "rizzler"

-Optimus has zero idea of what that means and thinks it's code for something dubious

-Ratchet knows what it means and thinks it's silly

-"I' was something of a rizzler myself back in my day, kid"

-bumblebee cringes

-loves summer and swimming

-wants to be the fastest thing in the sea because y'know, it's bumblebee

-is spooked from the beach for awhile cuz he saw sharks in Prowls nature documentary

-there are infact, no sharks in lake Erie

Bulkhead: big guy, bigger heart

doesn't match his body type/aspirations.

Jesus fuck he's so wide?? And his belly migrated to his shoulders?? I'm gonna be honest, I really hate this design. I feel like it contributed to the "brute strength = stupid" take that most in the fandom associates with him.

---

-Bulkhead is a SWEET. CARING. NERD YOU FOOLS. He's like the male version of a tall goth gf-

-a tall-nerdy-farm hand-physics bf, You got me fucked up.

-Its already shown that bulkhead really likes art in Addition to creating it. He hates being only seen as the "muscle" so it wouldn't make sense for him to lean into that.

-bunny slippers that him and sari made together(she provided the buttons)

-the slippers go missing sometimes (basically considered community property unless he's wearing them)

(ratchet and prowl are the main offenders)

-frequent art museum goer

-really likes watching cooking shows, but is too shy to make food himself

-Owns a ton of star maps

-Really wants a treehouse that he, bumblebee and sari can hang out in

-pillowfort enjoyer

-casually reads quantum physics at the beach

Prowl: draft dodger

Doesn't look like him at all.

Prowls holoform being a mustachioed,white, police officer was an actual jumpscare for 7 y/o me, I kid you not

---

- I know this bitch would not wear a helmet (you can't force him to) que windswept hair

-Not as much as starscreams, for obvious reasons but yk

-prowl is like one of those "shoes are a prison for your feet"

-emo hipster

-has a pet cactus named "planty"

-bumblebee heckles him for it

-can and has brought his cactus with him on early evening motorcycle rides

-the helmet is reserved for his cactus, bring your own >:(

-salad consumer

-him and jazz share custody of the cactus

-repeat victim of the cat distribution system

-ratchet has probably spent hours telling him they can't keep any animals at base

-frequent midnight picnics with jazz

-and beachcombing

-and roaming around antique stores cuz jazz wants to know what vinyl records are

-got a mug with an attempted pink chibi cat with big round shiny eyes painted onto it, courtesy of bulkhead trying to find an artsyle

-cherishes this mug to death

-has a shrine dedicated to it

[divinelolita]

heyy😘

i feel like you've done this before but its worth a shot😞

could you do jealousy headcannons with the whole band of tokio hotel🤞🏾(separately of course) with a little nsfw thrown in please(all of them topping idrc if they're dom top or sub top)

thank you smmm i love your writing like fr your keeping my writing alive😭 if u alr did this just straight up ignore it😌

JEALOUS BAND X GN READER

AGGHHH I LOVE U 👹! i’ve been so confused cuz normally I'd have so many ideas but I was absolutely stuck recently💀 sorry if it's not good I'm better at writing dom reader..

(contains some nsfw themes so if you don't like that please don't read!!!)

BILL:

・He doesn't get jealous easily, but you make him crazy, bae.

・Y'all r probably at a club or something when it happens.

・If you flirted with someone/touched their arm or hand he would just look from afar, thinking about what he was gonna do with you.

・He'd get so caught up in his daydreaming that he feels himself grow hotter and more desperate for you.

・He eventually goes up to you and pulls you to the car

・While he's driving he holds your thigh in his hand, rubbing little circles into the side with his thumb.

・Remind you that you are his and his only 😍.

・When y'all get out of the car he can't keep his hands off you, roaming all over your body as he pulls you close.

・If y'all have sex he'd make you scream his name, again reminding you that you are his and he can pleasure you better than anyone 😋.

・It's getting a lil cringey and serious bro I'm not used to this-

"Good boy/girl. Doing so well."

"So pretty, so good for me.."

・Jealously ends soon after, he knows you love him as he does for you!

TOM:

・Unlike Bill, I feel like he'd get very jealous.

・Only watches you for a second before going up to you, holding a hand around your waist as he sees who your talking to.

・Makes sure to call you 'babe' and 'darling' so the person knows your taken 🤷🏻.

・You feel him occasionally grab your thigh, his hand trailing closer to your inner thigh-

・If you swat his hand away his grip only tightens.

・He eventually pulls you to the car, and baby he's going wild.

・Brings you into a fierce kiss, your lips nearly getting cut.

・Roams his hands up your shirt, fingers going down your sides and waist. 🤭

・Tbh he's so horny rn y'all def have car sex.

・If your into it he probably spanks you..

I'M CACKLING HELP LMFAO

・If you thought Bill was rough your in for something with Tom.

・Bitch has no mercy

・Probably overstimulates you too....

GEORG:

・Actually hides being jealous pretty well, but he can't always help it.

・He feels his stomach get knotted if he sees you talk/act in a flirty way with someone else.

・Tries to ignore it, reminding himself that you love him and you wouldn't do anything weird.

・If the other preon touches you, though, he's right beside you.

・He keeps a hand at the back of your neck, digging his fingers in it gently.

・Doesn't bother taking you to the car, y'all go to a bathroom.

・Throws you in the stall as he locks it behind him.

・Shushes you if you try to make excuses.

・Keeps his hand at the back of your neckbas he kisses you, his other hand having a firm grip on your thigh.

・His kisses trail down to your jaw, then neck, and all the way down...

・He edges you until your crying, man.

"You can take a little more, right.?"

・He shushes you if your too loud (due to being in the bathroom) but he can't help but grin whenever you moan out his name.

GUSTAV:

・Not the jealous type at all, nope.

・There's only so much a boy can take, though.

・Bites the inside of his cheek as he glares at you.

・Watches the way you act, if your with someone else he makesbsure to also watch their movements.

・If they get too close to you he feels like he got the air sucked outta him.

・Doesn't stop you from talking unless the other person gets a little too comfortable.

・Afterwards, in the car, he'd ask a few questions about this person.

・Raises an eyebrow at you if you lie or don't explain.

・If anything he's a soft dom 🤷🏻

・Holds your hands over your head while having sex.

・Leaves kisses and hickeys all over your neck and chest, nipping at the sensitive skin.

"You're so perfect... so sweet."

・Praises you like there's no tomorrow.

[bottledkriegmen]

ZERO DAY HEADCANONS!! >O<

xoxo @calcyum helped me write some of these go look at his art its so yummy!! literally the loml MWAH

☆ Cal tells white little harmless lies like, all the time. He doesn't mean to, it just happens

⋆ Example, he says he doesn't like ice cream but he can and will absolutely destroy an entire tub of chocolate icecream in a heartbeat

☆ Andre burned the shirt he got called a faggot in the bonfire before Zero Day.

☆ Cal's half Russian, his bio dad lives in the European half of Russia.

☆ They both call Mel, "Mel Bell" or "Melanie Bellanie"

☆ Andre played softball when he was little.

⋆ He quit because he got hit really hard in the head by a bat.

☆ Cal's a total metalhead. He has a ton of diff band tee's, but he's never gone to a concert.

☆ Andre has especially sharp canines!! (Feeding into Dogdre propaganda/j)

☆ Cal is a chronic doodler. If he and Andre are sitting next to eachother and Cal has a pen or sharpie in his grasp, Andres getting a whole SLEEVE of silly little doodles all over his arm.

⋆ he's also a stick n poke master, he's got little tatoos littering his ankles.

☆ Andre is a left handed shooter, right handed writer..... Cal is the opposite.

☆ Andre is a polyglot!! He forgets words in English and has to try to convey what he's trying to say to Cal in literally any other language he can think of. (Never works.)

⋆ This makes him so unbelievably mad.

☆ Cal watched Duckman growing up.

⋆ He introduced it to his siblings and they used to all watch it together!! TRUST!!

☆ Andre watched M*A*S*H growing up...

☆ Cal knows how to play a few diff instruments, other than a guitar and sitar.

⋆ Violin, piano, trumpet, all that good stuff.

☆ There's definitely a few holes in the basement walls of Andre’s house. He'll swear it wasn't him. (It was.)

☆ Cal is very awkward with love in general. He'd be an... okay boyfriend, but he would NOT pay enough attention to his partner because he'd be too busy hanging out with Andre.

☆ Andre 100% grew up on older fashioned values with new fashioned eyes iykwim. He'd treat his partner with the utmost respect, but he'd also have the same problem as Cal. He wouldn't pay much attention to them.

☆ (A personal fave) Cal and Andre have matching dog tags!

⋆ Before their final scene in Zero Day, Cal and Andre decided to switch dog tags with eachother. (fags..)

☆ Andre got a little teddy bear as a birthday present when he was itty bitty, and kept it. He's wayy to embarrassed to show anybody.

⋆ Cal found it one day and Andre nearly lost his shit.

☆ Cal often meows or hums in response when talking to Rachel or Andre when he doesn't feel like actually speaking.

☆ Stealing this from another post (I can't find creds rn i am SO sorry), Cal's siblings absolutely love Andre. He's like their other older brother.

⋆ Andre loves them just the same, he's such a good big brother. :(

☆ Cal's sister paints both Cal's and Andre’s nails, and makes them attend her tea parties with her stuffed animals.

☆ Mel follows Andre around the house wherever he goes. There's literally not a second when she's not behind him.

⋆ She gets jealous of Cal whenever he's too close to Andre.

☆ Andre and Cal share a bed everytime they spend the night with eachother.

⋆ They totally spoon but like hell they'd ever admit that.

these were so fun to write guys ty again ml MWAUGHH

[oddballwriter]

💳💥💳💥💳 THE SYSTEM WITH A METALHEAD I BEG OF YOU!! ( if comfy ofc )

Like short 5'2-5'3 reader who looks SCARY as shit and wears all black+tatted but is super cutesy until someone says the wrong shit and they get absolutely insane?

feel like steven would be like raging heart eyes

( maybe smutty maybe not either wayyy..)

- 🌑

Steven Grant

Steven was scared of you at first, that's for sure. The all black and scary look definitely worked on him

It wouldn't be until you approached him that he realized you weren't going to bite him

He finds the difference between the two of you funny, positively.

To me, he seems more like a listener of ABBA and The B-52, those kind of older songs that are more up beat. Something that some suburban dad definitely has on vinyl

I firmly believe that Steven fucking loves the B-52s for some reason, he just has those vibes

Softer type of music, you know? Definitely not metal

But he does enjoy that you're kind and really nice rather than acting the part of how you look

But the one time when you two were out and someone insulted you both and you proceeded to yell at them and cuss them out was a day that he thinks about a lot. You weren't even yelling at them for insulting you, you just tore them a new one because they insulted him

He felt something that day, and he's not saying that he wants you to yell at him, but if you bossed him around a little then he's going to do it with a tent in his pants

He's too embarrassed to admit that but it's defiantly something that's there and you'll catch on someday

Back to the actual topic though, Steven doesn't like metal but he supports you liking it since it makes you happy

Would attend a concert with you but he'd have ear plugs in so that the music doesn't hurt his ears or stress him out

Also, you will have to leave him in the back because he's not going in the mosh pit, he would not survive. I'm sorry but he's not built for that

Marc Spector

Okay, Marc doesn't really listen to metal, he's not an avid metal listener. But I'm sure he's listened to a few songs and knows the more mainstream bands

He thinks you're cool though. Similar to my HCs for them with a goth partner, he finds it fascinating how you don't care how people perceive you and just be yourself. You're happy and he uses that as inspiration to be himself too

Marc would listen to metal music with you if it comes up, maybe you expand his knowledge of the genre

Do I think he'd handle a mosh pit? No, I think it would stress him out too much. Too much is happening and it freaks him out. Loves seeing you having fun though so go mosh for him

Marc also respects the fact that you're still polite and not true to how people think you would be, but 100% if you tell someone off then he's all for it. You tell 'em!

Since I went on a whole side tangent on Steven's music tastes, it's only right I do it for Marc

Marc sort of shares the same taste as Steven where he listens to songs that were around when they were younger. He's a classics kind of guy. He likes it when he hears people from back then on the radio

This man refuses to leave the 80's and 90's music scene. You will have to pry it from him in the field of reeds

Jake Lockley

Jake is such a "I love all genres" guy, he listens to everything and finds something to like in it. Even country, yeah sure modern country sucks but older ones are the ones he talks about when e talks about country music

So yeah, Jake definitely likes metal and can get into it. So feel free to play it around him

He also thinks you're cool and loves your whole look. Buys a shirt to match

100% would love to see you tear someone a new one so long as they deserve it. This man is an enabler, he's in the back cheering you on

Also, if you ask him to go to a concert with you, he will say yes so fast

Jake would survive the mosh pit, he would thrive

It lets him let out some stuff that he's been holding back and energy that he can't really put anywhere else

Honestly Jake would be so clearly into your whole metalhead life. He thinks it's hot. He finds it sexy. There's something about the loud music and look that does something for him and he's not going to hide that

Honestly, yell at him in bed, it'll be good foreplay if you're down

[vivwritesfics]

Fuck The Drummer

She's been there for him, by his side since they were kids. She's there when he starts performing with his band. She's there until he'd rather have Maria

Band! Rhett

Everything was going so good. Rhett and his band had rocked the stage and, for a good five minutes, she had all of his attention. He looked damn good, in his usual cap and open button shirt.

But then Maria Olivarez walked into the bar.

She had been sat with Rhett's arms around her when Maria walked in. Rhett's arm fell from around her shoulders and he strode towards the girl that had never given him the time of day.

Even when they were all in high school together, Maria didn't even know his name in high school (and, if she did, it was because he used to get into fights with other kids). When she'd come back to town, a week before Rhett's band had their first performance outside of Wabang, she'd brushed him off every time she tried to talk to him.

Rhett stood from the seat beside her. He finished his beer and strode over to Maria. She slumped against the table as she watched the way Maria flirted.

But she had no reason to be jealous. She and Rhett weren't together. They were just best friends that sometimes fucked. Rhett could do whatever he wanted, and she had no reason to stop him.

Rhett pointed towards her and she raised her hand in an awkward wave. But then Maria strode over, Rhett following her like a lost puppy.

"Hey," Maria said as she leaned against the chair Rhett had just been sitting in. "I didn't think I'd see you here." Her smile was an an attempt at being kind, there was no malice behind it.

But that wasn't how it came across. "Why wouldn't I be here?" She asked, voice a little rude as she looked past her, looked at Rhett. She didn't mean to be rude to Maria; she'd known her close to forever.

But she knew how much it got to rhett, didn't have enough fingers to count how many times she'd gotten his hopes up only to bring them crashing back down.

That was the reason for her first time with Rhett, in the barn while she was supposed to be helping him with chores when she was supposed to be staying over. She'd let him pull her back into the hay, felt the way his large hands settled over her hips as he pulled her on top of him. Things hadn't been the same since.

"Did you catch the performance?" She asked, mouth tight and voice a little gravelly. But that was where she'd been cheering between songs.

Maria looked almost reluctant as she shook her head. "You know, I actually didn't. I was hoping to catch you at the next one, though," Maria said, fully turned to Rhett.

She didn't miss when Rhett's eyes lit up. What she wouldn't give for him to look at her like that, just once. "You're coming to the next one?" His voice was so damn hopeful, she couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"Every good band needs a roadie, right?"

The way her pint glass hit the table had everyone quiet. "Maria, do you have any concept of what a roadie is?" Her fingers massaged her forehead, trying to take care of the headache that had been forming ever since Maria showed her face. "It's the road crew, not the girls that tag along to sleep with the drummer."

Maria's expression dropped. She turned on her heel and marched away.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Hissed Rhett as he stepped up to the table.

She sighed and pushed her chair away from the table. "Oh, just go and chase after her. Be her night in shining, fucking armour, but don't come crying to me when you find out she's a heartless monster."

With that she placed her empty pint glass on the bar top and marched away.

***

She hated that she and Rhett had gotten a room to share. The lingerie beneath her clothes had seemed like a good idea when she put them on, but now she was full of regret.

Still, she laid there on the bed they would have been sharing, wearing the lingerie and nothing else, watching shitty motel TV. She felt pretty, and that was all that mattered.

The lock in the door twisted. Her eyes glanced up as the door opened and Rhett strode in. Maria wasn't with him, but that didn't come as a surprise.

When he sat on the end of the bed, she sat up. "Did you fuck her?" She asked, brows furrowed as she looked at him.

A sigh left his lips. "Does it matter if I did?"

Instead of answering, she hopped off the bed. She reached into a bag and grabbed a hoodie, one she'd had for so long she'd forgotten it was his. "What're you doing?" He asked as she got herself dressed.

She didn't answer as she pulled her shoes onto her feet and reached into her bag for her car keys. "Hey," he said and went to grab her keys.

"I'm going home," she said quickly.

But Rheet stood and held the door shut. "Darlin', no," he whispered. When he reached out to touch her, he stepped back. "I need you here."

Pinching the bridge of her nose, her fist hit his head. "When are you gonna get it through your thick fuckin' skull that I'm in love with you?" She shouted, spit flying into his face. "You're a fuckin' idiot, Rhett, an' I'm goin' home."

[hatelangdon]

Modern day! Post death! Tate headcanons

(For my own joy we're gonna pretend he didn't do any of the bad stuff he just has deep seeded mommy issues)

Drabble bc I was bored ~ Warnings (talks of stabbing briefly )

- He is a music elitist through and through. He's definitely the "name 5 songs 🤓☝🏻" guy if he sees you wearing a band shirt.

- secret swiftie, we all know he would cry to mirrorball & right where you left me, especially if you have the songs on vinyl. He'd listen over and over in your room while you're not with him.

- he literally doesn't need water, yet he's always drinking from your water bottle/Stanley cup. He loves it

"It's our emotional support water bottle"

- he also doesn't need to eat but guess who's always asking for "a little sweet treat" when you go out? 🤨

- back to music, he loves tvgirl, Alex g, & the 1975. He thinks that makes him so special 🙄

- he always claims that his stomach hurts because he wants to be held and coddled by you.

-if he actually does get sick, he'll start whining for his mother if he gets delirious enough. She was always sweet to him when he didn't feel good. You know not to get her though, it never ends well.

- he's very very touchy and very very sensitive and petty. If you push him away he will put a knife through his own heart just to scare you (he's fine the next day)

- the world's biggest crybaby, needs constant reassurance that you love him, he's comforted by your presence.

- Tate would love those Lego flower kits, he'd want to help you put them together.

- even though he is dead he appreciates the sentiment when you celebrate his birthday, he doesn't like counting the years but if you just bring him a cupcake or make him birthday pancakes with a few candles, it will make him feel loved.

- he's very sleepy, despite being a ghost. He recently discovered weighted blankets and he is constantly going in and out of consciousness

- this is not new info but he is always the little spoon. You could be napping on the couch by yourself and somehow he has ended up in your arms or on top of you.

- he still harbors a lot of trauma, please just listen to him and comfort him and don't open the door for Constance.

- for someone stuck in a house all day you think he'd straighten up, but no. He is messsssy there's sweaters, books, and other things thrown around the room by the end of the day

- he spends all day writing, drawing, and listening to music. He likes to leave his writing in places around the house for you to randomly find.

- scratching him behind the ears and rubbing his face with your thumb is the key to helping him when he's having a bad time.

***I forgot to add this but Tate would also love lil peep with 0 shame despite him thinking the "90's was the best era of music 🤓☝🏻", some of his songs are so Tate coded.

he'd be the biggest stan, he's probably his favorite modern artist.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Random Hobie Headcanons [Prt.1]

me screaming about Hobie Brown just existing like these are just random headcanons of him doing fuck all and chilling but uuhhh this is also so long i had to split it in two parts so this is part one

chronic hobie brainrot u know how it is _______________________________________________

He's actually a fairly high ranking member of the Society

I like to think that Hobie - like Jessica and Ben - has a high ranking position in the Society

Even though he didn't mean for this to happen

Hobie's really good at working with teams, and persuading people. He's been Spider-man for a while, plus he has unique experience

He broke the barrier that 3 spider-people couldn't - sorry Miles you didn't loosen anything

Hobie would probably just ace every mission. In like record time

Miguel and Lyla watching it go from HQ and Lyla's like 'Oh, he's gooodd.'

The watches get a bug and need an update - but low and behold, Hobie knew about the bug and fixed his watch weeks ago. Chumps.

They need advice in taking down a particular anomally and Hobie is the only one with ideas that work -

And sure he may take the piss out of everyone and walk around HQ like he either owns the place or is about to burn it down but they can't tell him anything

He's just that good

I could see him helping out new trainees (and radicalizing them), checking in on every new recruit to see if they have a place to stay.

And Miguel respects that. Miguel isn't heartless, he cares about the society. And even though Hobie isn't doing it for him he appreciates the work Hobie puts in

Miguel probably knows Hobie is friends with Gwen, and that he was the one who stepped up when Jess wasn't

He loves to read

It just makes sense

With all the knowledge of anarchy and stuff, I assume he kinda has to be

I love the idea of Hobie and worn paper-back books that he reads again and again

All well loved, all second (or third, or fourth-) hand.

I imagine he reads a lot of non-fiction, and his favorite genre is history

He doesn't know why, but his brain loves reading about it and understanding the communities that existed in different times

But there are some fiction favorites he has, The Giver being one of them

He donates all the ones he doesn't absolutely need, leaving a sticky note in the front cover with a comment, same way he left one on Gwen's new watch

Hobie is a minimalist in morals

But not like the 'all white-house' aesthetic, but like the 'choosing to live with and on less to respect yourself, people around you and the world'

Everything he owns is second hand, and he likes finding really old cheap stuff, cause it connects back to the history thing

Every couch he's ever owned he's found on a street curb

He doesn't have much clothes, most of the stuff he does have were gifts, or from bands and shows

Instead, he goes to community swap-meets, and swaps his clothes for new ones every couple of months

He LOVES seeing other people in the punk scene wearing a shirt he'd swapped months ago, knowing it's gotten a second life

Hobie genuinelly tries not to throw things away if he can help it. Not in a hoarders way, but in an environmentally respectful way.

If he doesn't want it, he'll barter it away, or gift it to someone who'd like it, or make something new.

Even if something is broken, he'll try to gift it to someone who can fix it than trash it. He'd rather leave his busted TV at the door of a repair shop than a back-alley dumpster

He's low food-waste too

He's like 'Miguel bruv we don't waste empanadas in this house' and takes them for himself

He tries to finish everything on his plate (past survival tactic), but now he'll save it for later. Hobie be tearing leftovers UP.

He makes the choice to not carry money

Connects to the minimalist thing, also an anti-capitalist thing

Hobie doesn't like carrying money. As a personal thing.

Fuck he look like keeping pictures of the Queen in his pocket - absolutely not.

He barters everything he can - and he's good at it. He has an extensive network in the underground punk scene of London, and everyone helps out everyone

Weirdly enough, I feel like if you were dating him he's always ask for a fiver or ten quid or something because he genuinely doesn't carry money or change but somehow he's carrying a rare swiss army knife from 1935

But on the inverse side, if he ever comes across money for some reason, he'll have you 'hold it' in you wallet (just give it to you)

To him, it doesn't matter. He doesn't want to be attached to it. It's genuinely a moral he tries to live by.

He loves cats

He has a picture of a cat on his nightstand in his intro

I bet he has multiple indoor cats

But I also imagine Hobie being really interested and connected in the street cats in the neighborhood he lives and frequents (bonus point if cats are his special interest!)

He names them and knows their faces. Feeds them and checks up on them, tries to take care of them best he can

The ones who get hurt or a little old or weak become boat-cats, and they come live with him

He'll feed them fish from the river - and they always eat before he eats breakfast

None of them have bells or collars, they're not his pets - they're his little friends

He had 'weird' but practical eating habits

Hobie eats standing up.

He'll open the fridge and eat right there. He'll set the bowl on the table then stand in front the TV eating. He goes to the food court and doesn't sit down, just walks about

He's use to eating on the street, so to him, it's comfortable

He grew up going to Gregg or Tesco and eating outside. Grabbing something from the chip shop and scranning it as fast as he can before the rain starts coming down

He actually likes food, and wish he could get more into it - but fuck, he'll never be like those snobs that eat $500 dollar dishes at shitty restaurants

Small routines

In the morning, he takes the boat to the docks. Brush his teeth and get ready for the day

Next he feeds the cats that stay by the water, eating breakfast and playing records

He doesn't make his bed, but he checks all the parts of the boat's engine, just a good once over, and makes sure everything's running right

And then he HAS to say hi to all the people on the docks who know him - old men who'd been working there for decades, delighted when Hobie offered to help them unionize

He always reads before bed too, or on restless nights, he writes songs - practices new songs.

if you read this far, thanks! let me know if any of this mattered at all or if youre like 'sib what does any of this got to do with anything of importance bye have a good day and/or night

[starryeyedjanai]

helloo, for the writing prompt thing 9. “Don’t ask me that.” ☺️💕

thanks for the prompts #9. "Don't ask me that." and #30. “Can I sit here? The other tables are full.” @delta-piscium and @atmilliways 🥰

to be known

steddie | rated: teen | 3.7k | angst with a happy ending :)

read on AO3

When the words settle onto his skin on his 18th birthday - Can I sit here? The other tables are full. - Steve is immediately taken back to the first week of middle school.

The day he met Eddie. When his hair was buzzed short and he was brand new to the school and knew no one.

He remembers those words.

He remembers looking up from his lunch and seeing this kid that looked nothing like Steve or any of his friends - dressed in all black, some kind of band logo on his t-shirt. He remembers seeing how timid he was to be asking, remembers saying yes or something to that accord.

He looks at the words and he's sure, he's certain, that the words etched onto his skin are the first words Eddie spoke to him.

Steve can't remember exactly what he said to Eddie in response to these words, just that he let Eddie sit with him and they've been best friends ever since, however unlikely a pair they made.

If Steve's words are on Eddie's skin, however unmemorable they are to Steve, he's sure Eddie would know they're soulmates - he would remember the first words Steve said to him all those years ago just like Steve remembers.

But.

Eddie turned 18 a while ago and he's never once mentioned the words on his skin to Steve.

Steve asked once, a few days after Eddie's birthday and Eddie changed the subject. Steve thought that might mean that he didn't have any words on his skin, because not everyone does.

He's thought about it since then too. If Eddie had gotten his words on his birthday, why would he not mention them? If it was something incredibly generic or even if it was a phrase that made no sense to him, he probably wouldn't have hidden it.

So then Steve had the thought that maybe it was something personal or maybe something embarrassing that Eddie just didn't want to say out loud.

And yeah, they're best friends, but that doesn't mean they have to share everything with each other. If it was something Eddie wanted to keep to himself, who was Steve to try and pry the information out of him? If Eddie wanted him to know, he'd tell him.

But now, looking at the words on his skin, he thinks that maybe there's another reason he never said anything. That maybe it's because he has Steve's words on his skin, but he doesn't want Steve as a soulmate. That maybe he was hoping it was a mistake, that if he ignored it, Steve might not get Eddie's words when he turned 18.

If Eddie has something written on him, he's hidden it from Steve for months. If he has a soul mark, he's hidden it for a reason.

The thoughts running through his head make Steve spiral a little, looking at the words on his skin.

It makes something ache in his chest, thinking about Eddie not wanting him. They've been friends for over five years now. They do everything together. They know each other better than anyone else.

If Eddie has his words on him somewhere and didn't tell Steve because he was that horrified at the thought of being tied to Steve forever, he doesn't know how his heart is going to take it.

As it stands, just thinking about it is making his heart beat a mile a minute, the hurt spreading with every heartbeat.

--

Steve looks at the words on his skin for a long time.

Eddie's handwriting is normally neat and measured, so unlike every facet of Eddie's actual existence.

He thinks about Eddie's room, always messy and cluttered. He thinks of Eddie's hyperactive personality, always needing to fidget, always needing to be doing something.

He thinks about seeing Eddie so focused on writing new lyrics for his band, thinks about looking at Eddie's notebook when he shows him a clever turn of words he came up with, the way his handwriting starts off small and contained, but gets bigger and sloppier the more excited he is.

The words on his skin are sloppy, excited.

But there's a lump in his throat thinking about how if Eddie has his words, he wasn't excited about it.

He doesn't know what he's going to do if Eddie tells him that he has his words on his skin and he doesn't want to be with him.

He woke up this morning with hope blossoming in his chest at the thought of seeing his soulmate's writing, their first words to him, on his body.

And now, he's getting ready for school, going through the motions, dreading what might happen.

It's not like he can miss school - Eddie would just skip school and come find him, regardless of the fact that his many unexcused absences are what got him held back last year. He'd skip anyway, and he'd find Steve no matter where he went.

He knows all of Steve's hideouts, all the places Steve goes when his parents are home and on his case.

He knows everywhere Steve might think to go if he's skipping school on his birthday because he knows Steve. He knows him better than Steve thinks he knows himself most days.

At school, he heads to his locker and doesn't look for Eddie. Sometimes, Eddie hitches a ride with Steve, but on Mondays, Eddie has Hellfire after school, so he drives himself.

Steve's never been as grateful for a Monday as he is now. He doesn't think he could have handled being in a car with Eddie this morning, trapped and with nowhere to go, the big question hanging between them, probably.

Did your mark come? (and maybe in this case, is it me?)

It's what everyone wants to know on someone's 18th birthday.

By the time he makes it to his locker, he's been asked if he got his mark a handful of times.

He makes it to third period before he realizes he hasn't seen Eddie all day.

The feeling of dread is sitting heavy in his stomach. Did Eddie skip school today because he didn't want to deal with Steve's mark at all? If he knows that Steve is his soulmate, this just further cements the fact that Eddie doesn't want him, that Eddie is doing everything he can to get away from Steve.

At lunch, he heads out to his car and sits in the quiet for a while.

He's not going back in there, he realizes, after a while as the clock keeps ticking forward, closer to the end of lunch.

He starts his car and heads up to Lover's Lake.

Because he knows Eddie just as well as Eddie knows him, and he knows exactly where he'd be if he didn't want Steve to find him.

Because as much as it might hurt to know Eddie doesn't want him, he has to hear him say the words. He has to know for sure that Eddie never said anything because he doesn't want Steve.

He has to hear it because anything his mind can make up is probably worse than anything the Eddie he knows would actually say. He'd let him down easy, if it's true that he just doesn't want Steve.

Steve thinks it would hurt the same even if Eddie was cruel about it - if he scoffed at him and said of course he didn't want him versus him gently sitting Steve down and saying as much as he likes being his friend, he just doesn't want him like that.

He parks next to the curb in front of Rick's house, behind Eddie's van, and steels himself. He's going to walk in that house and he might not come out of it the same. He might leave with one less friend. One less best friend.

He doesn't bother knocking because he knows the door will be unlocked. He can hear Eddie and Rick talking in the living room so he follows the voices.

The conversation dies immediately when Eddie catches sight of him. He blanches, like he wasn't expecting Steve to come find him, like he was expecting Steve to just let this go untalked about the way Eddie has for so many months now.

"Steve," Eddie whispers into the painfully awkward silence.

"Eddie," Steve says back. "I think we need to talk, don't you?"

He sees Eddie swallow and glance at the doorway behind him, like he's thinking about making a break for it.

He knows for certain that Eddie's his soulmate now.

Steve tries not to let it show how much that affects him, the thought of Eddie being so fucking unwilling to talk to him about this that he'd rather run from him. He's never run from Steve like this before.

"Please," Steve says softly, his voice desperate and shot.

Eddie nods slowly. He says, "Rick, um. Can you, uh, give us a minute?"

Rick looks between them and says to Eddie, "You know this is my house, right?" but he gets up all the same and heads to the sliding glass door to step outside.

"Steve," Eddie says again.

"You've been hiding from me," he says, stepping closer to the couch.

"It's not that I was, was hiding, per se," Eddie stammers out.

"No?" Steve asks. "So you just skipped school to hang out on Rick's couch today?"

He sits on the opposite end of the couch, a good distance from Eddie. His heart is in his throat and he realizes all of a sudden that he's not going to be okay if Eddie doesn't want him. He thought maybe he could power through this, hear Eddie say he'd rather never see Steve again than be stuck with him as a soulmate or something equally as devastating, but there are tears stinging at the corners of his eyes at the thought.

He doesn't want Eddie to not want him.

He looks away from Eddie, blinks rapidly a couple times to stubbornly keep the tears at bay.

"I don't. I don't know what you want me to say," Eddie says softly.

Steve clears his throat and says, "I want you to tell me why you didn't tell me."

Eddie scoffs and says, "Don't ask me that."

And Steve sits there, feeling defeated, feeling like his heart is splintering because his best friend is shutting him out. Eddie doesn't want him, doesn't want to even talk to him about it.

He can't do anything but stare at him for a moment, the sinking feeling in his chest settling like it's made a home there.

So that's it then.

He won't even talk to him about it.

He gets up, ready to leave because what else is there to say if Eddie can't even bear to say it out loud? If he can't even acknowledge that they're soulmates, can't say out loud why he never told him, it has to be because he realizes anything he says is going to hurt Steve.

Eddie's not malicious. Even if he doesn't want Steve like that, he still probably wouldn't want to hurt him.

Eddie rushes to stand up when Steve turns to leave, the stinging in his eyes getting worse than before.

"Steve, don't- we can just-" Eddie lets out a frustrated breath. "Can't we just go back to how it was before? This doesn't have to change anything."

And those are words that make the tears that Steve's been trying to keep in tip over. He wipes at his eyes, frustrated with himself. He told himself he wouldn't cry about this in front of Eddie, but here he is, tears falling down his face anyway.

Eddie looks panicked all of a sudden, like he didn't expect Steve's tears. Like he thought Steve would just say yes, say sure, we can just pretend we aren't fucking soulmates.

"Steve?" He says his name hesitantly, like he's a startled horse or something, and Steve wants to turn and run, wants to hide from the hurt feeling that's gripping his heart.

But he came here for a reason.

He came here to get the answers that he needs and he doesn't know that he has them yet.

Eddie won't talk about it, but Steve needs him to. Eddie still wants to be his friend and Steve needs to hear him say that there isn't a chance, needs to know that there isn't a hope of a chance that things might change for Eddie one day. Because Steve will wait, is the thing.

Steve would wait forever for him.

If Eddie wants things to go back to normal, to how they were before they knew they were soulmates, Steve would keep being his friend and keep waiting for things to change forever if Eddie doesn't tell him now that he can never feel that way about him.

So he says through his tears, "I need you to tell me the truth. I don't care if you think it'll hurt me. I just need to hear it."

Eddie looks confused. "Why would me telling you how I feel hurt you? That's- Why are you crying? What did I say to make you cry?"

"You don't want to talk about it! You want to pretend this doesn't exist," he says, pulling the hem of his shirt up to expose the writing on his rib cage. "You want us to pretend we aren't soulmates and you didn't think that would hurt me?"

Eddie shakes his head. "You- you don't want this," he insists. He hasn't even asked what Steve wants.

"How could you possibly know what I want when we haven't even talked about it? You hid this from me for months, Eddie! And now you're gonna stand here and act like you know what I want?" Steve scoffs, the tears in his eyes now coming from a place of anger instead of hurt.

"You're not into guys, Steve. And you're certainly not into me. I know that much," Eddie says, still looking at the words etched on Steve's skin.

Steve lowers his shirt. "You didn't even ask me," he says again. He wipes the tears from his eyes and steps forward, closer to Eddie.

Because Eddie said Steve wasn't into him, wasn't into guys. He never said that he wasn't into Steve. He's hanging onto a fucking thread of hope, but Eddie didn't say he didn't want him.

He doesn't know if Eddie's deflecting from the real issue of him not wanting Steve by turning it around on him, but he has to try. He's his soulmate. Of course he has to try.

He stands in front of Eddie, the tips of their shoes touching.

"Show me," he says softly, the words a whisper into the quiet of the room.

He looks at Eddie and sees the fear in his eyes, sees how scared he is. He didn't notice it before, being so far away from him. But up close, he can tell that Eddie is scared.

Scared like Steve is scared.

He just hopes he's getting this right.

Eddie pulls the collar of his shirt down to show the script sitting right on his collarbone.

Oh, yeah, of course! I like your hair!

"You've been hiding this from me," Steve says, running his fingertips over the curve of the letters on Eddie's skin. Eddie shivers under the light touch.

"I thought it might be you, but I wasn't sure," Eddie says back.

"But you wanted it to be," he says, taking the leap. He thinks Eddie wanted it to be him. He hopes he wanted it to be him.

Eddie looks him in the eyes, that fear still gripping him. "I wanted it to be you so fucking bad, Stevie. I thought, when I got my words- I thought that I had wished it true, that I wanted you so badly that I made the universe make it you. And I've been feeling so fucking guilty this entire time because of it."

"Guilty?" he asks, confused.

Eddie nods. "Like I forced it into existence because I wanted it too much."

"I don't think that's how the universe works, Eddie."

"I think it's a special case because you don't even like guys and somehow you got one as a soulmate. Got me as a soulmate." Eddie looks so dejected, so guilty about it that Steve has to set him straight.

"Eddie, we've been soulmates since the moment we met," he says, tearing his eyes away from writing on his chest, the writing that's in Steve's handwriting, tolook into Eddie's eyes. "Even if we never got the mark, you would still be it for me."

Eddie bites his lip, glancing down at Steve's mouth quickly. "Do you mean that?" he asks, still hesitant.

"I mean it. I- we've never really talked about who we're into, and maybe that was a mistake. Because I do like guys. Or- well, I like you. I've liked you for so long," he says, glancing down at Eddie mouth too.

He thinks getting to kiss him would either calm his rapidly beating heart down or send him straight into orbit. Either way, he's going to find out.

"You like me? Me?" Eddie asks, surprised, and Steve swoops in to kiss the incredulity off his tongue.

He presses his mouth to the plush lips in front of him, just a gentle press at first and he feels more than hears Eddie gasp against his lips.

It's-

People talk all the time about how kissing your soulmate is different from kissing just anyone. That it's somehow astronomically different. But Steve's never understood it until now.

Because how can kissing your soulmate feel any different from kissing someone else? Sure, maybe there's different feelings involved, but if you love someone who isn't your soulmate, does that mean kissing them wouldn't be as good?

These were the questions Steve used to think about when he would think about who his future soulmate might be. Back in middle school and early high school.

How could kissing anyone feel that much different?

It's what all the magazines say, all the romance novels and the tv shows and movies too. They all say that it's different, that you'll know for sure, as if there could be any doubt with the first thing they say to you marked on your skin forever.

Steve never thought they could be right, that it was a dramatization of what it really is. That even through the woo-woo soulmate magic or whatever, kissing would still feel like kissing, no matter who you were kissing.

He's never been more glad to be wrong about something.

Because it is different. Somehow, it is.

It's different from kissing Nancy, who Steve was very much in love with.

It's different from kissing any of the girls he's kissed in the past, different from the one very confusing kiss he shared with Tommy Hagan back in sixth grade for "practice".

It's like there's an energy between them, the force that's been trying to pull them together for years finally snapping into place.

Something inside him feels settled. Like for the first time in his life, he feels content. All the background noise - the leaky kitchen faucet Steve has heard since stepping inside the house, the birds outside, the buzz of electricity that Steve can always hear - it all just fades away.

All he's left with is Eddie, right in front of him.

He's the only thing he can feel right now, the only thing he can hear and taste and smell, and see when he pulls back from the kiss.

Eddie had his eyes closed, so Steve gets to see him blink them open slowly, like his whole world has been shifted too. Like something is finally settled inside him too.

It kind of makes Steve want to cry again, embarrassingly enough.

He cups Eddie's jaw and leans in to kiss him again, this time swiping his tongue across his lower lip. Eddie opens his mouth and Steve tilts his head to the side and presses his tongue inside his mouth.

Their tongues tangle together for the first time and it's so heady, Steve feels dizzy with it. He kisses him harder, licking into his mouth, both hands now on either side of his head, not trapping him or keeping him there, just holding him so he can be kissed by Steve for as long as they both want it.

Eddie's hands find Steve's waist, and one slips up under his shirt. He touches the words written onto Steve's rib cage and Steve trembles, the skin contact making him shivery with want.

And god, does he want.

He wants everything. He wants to keep kissing Eddie until the room around them darkens as the sun goes down. He wants to stand here kissing him for hours, wants to bite his lips until they're swollen and tender and then keep on kissing his bruised mouth. He wants to touch him, wants to put his hands everywhere, wants Eddie's hands on him.

He's snapped out of the trance Eddie's mouth has put him in by a tap-tap-tap on the glass door.

They pull apart slowly, their mouths separating with a slick sound that Steve's going to be replaying in his head for hours.

They both look at the back door where Rick is standing.

"Can I come back in now? It's chilly," he asks, his voice muffled through the glass.

Steve rolls his eyes and steps back from Eddie.

Eddie grins at him and says, "Yeah, man. Come on in."

Rick slides the door open, steps back inside, and says, "Glad you two finally worked this all out then. Maybe now Eddie will stop complaining about it all the time."

Eddie looks at Rick, betrayed, then looks at Steve and says, "I don't- I do not complain. I was just, I do probably talk about it a lot, but I wasn't complaining, exactly-"

"Eddie, you complain more than anyone I know, about everything," Steve says, voice playful.

Eddie lets out an exaggerated gasp. "You're going to say that to me, your soulmate?"

Steve just rolls his eyes.

He's got the rest of their life to get Eddie to admit that he's the most dramatic person he knows.

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tagging people who voted for this in the wip game or asked to be tagged: @legitcookie @sidekick-hero + @patchworkgargoyle 💕💕💕