#this is so much longer than i intended

[ghosttotheparty]

For the dialogue prompts: Steddie + 24. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” “Probably not.”

i did another one-shot with this prompt here as well :) (this is a no upside down au/high school au; eddie is a senior (his first senior year) and steve is a junior) {part 2 // part 3} cw: substance use; weed; very brief reference to child neglect & alcoholism; little bit of internalised homophobia

It's not often Eddie sees Steve Harrington in detention. Not often meaning never. He's out of place here, sitting at a creaky desk with Eddie and the others, in his pristine polo and shiny hair.

Eddie stares at him for a moment when he walks in, hovering in the doorway and eyeing Steve's posture. He's slouched in his seat, arms crossed, almost brooding, and Eddie feels rabid as Steve meets his eyes and cocks an eyebrow. But he behaves (for once).

He sits next to him, scooting his chair a little too close as he whispers, "What'd you do?"

"Nothing," Steve grumbles, and Eddie grins.

---

Steve's never actually talked with Eddie Munson. But that doesn't stop him from looking at him. He sees him in the hallways all the time, sees his hair that's almost at his shoulders, long and frizzy in a way that would be curly if Eddie took proper care of it. He sees him make faces at people, sees him draw in his notebook, and Steve is fascinated.

Eddie smiles like he's feral, all wide-eyed and shining, and Steve loves his smile, even if he doesn't admit it to himself. It's an exciting smile.

Somehow even though they've never spoken, Eddie seems perfectly comfortable sitting next to him (right next to him; maybe a little too close, but Steve isn't complaining) and talking to him.

"No, seriously," Eddie says. "What'd you do?"

Steve sighs, letting his head fall back to look at the ceiling.

"Uh." He keeps his voice quiet. There are other kids in the room, but none of them seem to care very much about the two of them. They're all sitting with their heads down on their desks, probably asleep. "I might have cussed out a teacher."

Eddie's eyes become even wilder, and his grin broadens, and Steve can't help but smile with him, his face flushing as Eddie knocks their shoulders together.

"You are so much cooler than I thought you were."

"Wow."

"Who was it?"

"Fisher."

"What'd he do?"

"Uh," Steve sighs again. "He, like, scolded me for not paying attention because I couldn't follow along, and I kind of just... snapped. Said he's a shitty teacher and maybe I'd be able to follow along if he wasn't so fucking boring."

"Steve Harrington. You're my hero."

Steve laughs. He hasn't laughed all day, but Eddie fucking Munson manages to get him to giggle, and then his face flushes with heat again.

They have to be quiet when detention actually starts, and Steve doesn't get the chance to ask Eddie what he did to get detention. But he can guess: he was probably late to class a few too many times, or neglected to turn in an assignment again. Something that Eddie is notorious for.

---

They fall silent when detention starts, and Eddie sees Steve lay his head down. He lets himself watch, admiring the way Steve pushes his hair out of his face before he sighs and looks across the room, blinking at the chalkboard. His eyes glaze over after a moment, and his eyebrows furrow like he's thinking hard about something. And Eddie is curious about what goes on in Steve Harrington's head. He has a feeling it's nothing good when Steve blinks his eyes, sniffling and tilting his head to lay it on his forearm. He looks like he's going to cry.

Eddie pulls his bag close and rips a scrap out of one of his notebook, rummaging around in the bottom of the bag for a pen before he scribbles a note and slides it onto Steve's desk.

you ok?

Steve lifts his head to look at him, and somehow his face falls even more as he reads it, and Eddie suddenly wants to wrap his arms around him, this boy he's never even spoken to, as Steve looks over at him and shrugs weakly.

What's wrong? Eddie mouths.

Steve looks back at the nose, biting his lip, and then he gestures for the pen, and Eddie passes it to him.

just feel like shit

Eddie looks at the note, contemplating, ultimately deciding that he can't give him a hug right here and now (unfortunately), and he draws the lines for tic-tac-toe before passing it back to Steve.

Steve looks at it and smiles.

He glances up at the teacher, who's reading something, and he moves his chair closer to Eddie, leaving the paper between them. The movement makes Eddie's stomach flutter, and he internally curses himself, because now is not the time to think about how he has a crush on a straight boy.

But he can't do anything about it, because Steve lays his head back down, drawing a little X in the center square, and his cheek squishes against his arm, and his hair falls to the desk, and he looks beautiful. Eddie looks away from him, but leans down, crossing an arm over the desk in front of himself and resting his chin on it.

They play three games, passing the pen back and forth. Steve wins the first two, and it makes him smile again and again, and Eddie decides he's set the world alight to make him smile. It makes his eyes squeeze shut in a way that's going to leave crow's feet behind when he's older. Eddie suddenly hopes he gets to see it.

Eddie sticks his tongue out at him like a child when he finally wins a game, drawing a sharp line through his Os, and Steve snorts, shaking his head at him.

Eddie sits up while Steve is staring at their next game, analyzing Eddie's Os carefully, and he stretches his back, looking across the room. Peters is asleep now, slouched over at his desk and snoring quietly, his book on his chest.

Eddie grins, elbowing Steve and gesturing with a jerk of his chin when Steve looks up at him.

Steve makes a face at Peters, looking oddly disappointed in him, and Eddie almost laughs, pressing his lips together when Steve looks back at him.

---

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Eddie whispers softly, and Steve glances him up and down, scanning his ripped jeans and his Megadeth t-shirt that's stained, the black fabric spotted reddish orange, his tangled necklaces and heavy rings.

"Probably not."

And Eddie just gives him this grin, this shit-eating, let's-break-the-law type of grin that makes Steve want to break the law. And Steve watches as he snatches the pen up from the table and grabs his backpack, standing up and crossing the room. The chains hanging from his jeans jingle happily, but Peters doesn't stir, and neither do the other kids, who just cast looks at Eddie and then lay back down or look back at whatever homework they're doing. Steve watches him, until he stops in the doorway like he can feel him watching.

Eddie turns back around, meeting Steve's eyes, and he gives him a look, widening his eyes and shaking his head before he beckons dramatically like they're going to be late for something. Steve glances at Peters, who hasn't moved.

And he follows Eddie.

Eddie is beaming when he follows him out, leaving their chairs behind, still out of place, and he starts to laugh as they head down the hallways toward the exit before he tosses an arm over Steve's shoulder, jostling him and messing up his hair. Steve doesn't mind.

---

"You're a terrible influence," Steve says, but he's smiling too, stumbling as Eddie pulls him along, arm still around his shoulders.

"But you were influenced so easily. You think I can get you into metal?"

"Absolutely not. Where are we going?"

They're exiting the building, the doors swinging shut behind them loudly, and Eddie just pulls him toward his van, standing out obnoxiously among the other students' cars.

"We're gonna smoke some weed," he says brightly. "Because you need it."

"In the school parking lot?" Steve questions, raising an eyebrow.

"Obviously not, we're leaving the school parking lot. I'll bring you back for your car when we're sober."

"Oh. Okay."

He just goes with it. He seems lighter than he did in the detention room, an absent smile on his face as he buckles himself in, looking around Eddie's van. It's a mess, but Eddie supposes it's representative of him. Steve jumps when Eddie turns the van on and the music comes on, the volume too loud, but he just laughs when Eddie headbangs as he buckles up.

They end up at the quarry. It's oddly quiet when the music turns off, replaced by the gentle sloshing of the water below them, by the leaves rattling in the wind.

They move to the back of the van, sitting opposite each other with their legs hanging over the edge, dangling above the dirt and gravel, and Eddie looks at Steve as he looks around, at the sky, which is now a soft grey.

"Why do you feel like shit today?" Eddie asks as he pulls a bong out from where it's hidden under a blanket.

Steve looks at him, his head falling back, and he looks tired, but relaxed. His shirt is wrinkled now.

"Just... I don't know. I feel..." He watches Eddie get the weed ready, eyes half-shut like he's going to fall asleep. "Tired. All the time. My dad was in town last week and he..." He's quiet for a moment. "I don't like him very much."

Eddie looks at him solemnly. One of his legs is propped up, his arm around it, the other kicking the air weakly.

"Is he gone now?" he asks before he takes a hit, the sound of the bubbling water filling the van.

"Yeah. Spain, this time."

"Spain? For what?" Eddie questions when he lifts his head, wrinkling his nose and exhaling.

"Who fuckin' knows, man," Steve says, laughing lightly, but it's a forced laugh, and Eddie can tell he wishes he knew.

"Does your dad suck?" he asks, passing the bong and lighter to Steve, who sighs and takes them. His chest rises and falls as he takes a hit, and Eddie's eyes follow the way his lips part to let the smoke out.

"Yeah."

Eddie nods.

Steve takes another hit, looking out across the quarry as he exhales, eyes a little glazed over.

"He wants me to..." Steve pauses, holding the bong back out to Eddie and sighing. "To follow in his footsteps. With his business and everything."

"Do you want to?" Eddie asks softly, gazing at him. Steve scoffs.

"Fuck no. 'D rather fuckin' die."

A laugh bursts out of Eddie and Steve grins lazily at him.

"What would you do?" Eddie asks. "If you got to pick. You graduate high school and then..."

Steve hums breathily, slouching and fidgeting with the end of the blanket as Eddie takes a hit.

"Probably just... take off," he says finally, his voice soft and thoughtful. "Pack my shit 'nd just leave."

Eddie exhales the smoke, smiling.

"You don't like it here?"

Steve scoffs.

"Hate this fuckin' town."

"This town loves you," Eddie points out, but Steve's face just falls a little, and he shakes his head.

"...They love who they think I am," he says softly after a moment. "They love King fucking Steve, not me. I wanna go."

"Isn't that the dream," Eddie says softly, ignoring the way his chest hurts for him. He wonders if he's the only one who knows Steve. This Steve, this... fragile, lonely boy.

"You too?"

"Jesus, yeah." Eddie passes the bong to him, still smiling, and he tosses the lighter. Steve catches it against his chest, looking at him curiously. "Hate this fuckin' town, man."

"You're not from Hawkins," Steve says. "Right?"

"Nope." He watches Steve flick the lighter, watches him duck his head to take a hit, watches his shoulders rise as he inhales. "Moved here with my uncle when I was nine."

Steve looks up, giving him a curious look as he leans back against the side of the van and exhales slowly.

"Why're you here?"

Eddie hums lightly, reaching for the bong. Steve tosses the lighter and giggles when Eddie doesn't catch it. Eddie flips him off. He grins.

"Dad was more into drinking than he was being a father," Eddie says. "And Ma didn't stick around long after he took up liquor. So. Wayne stepped in."

"Is he nice?" Steve asks after a moment, his voice so small it almost disappears behind the bubbling water. Eddie nods as he lifts his head.

"He's real nice," he says. "Kinda my best friend."

Steve smiles, listening.

"But he knows I hate it here. Knows I wanna leave as soon as I can. He's cool with it."

"Where would you go?" Steve asks, drawing both knees to his chest and leaning forward, hugging them to himself as he looks at Eddie like Eddie's going to tell him a story. He looks so young, like he's just a little kid, daydreaming about escaping a lonely town. Eddie's chest aches.

"Maybe San Francisco," he says softly, setting the bong aside. "Or some other big city. Somewhere I'll see other people like me. Somewhere I don't have to worry as much about being stared at, you know?"

Steve looks at him, his chin on one of his knees, and his eyes are shining at him.

"I like looking at you," he says after a moment, whispering. Eddie's stomach flutters again, and he smiles as Steve's face flushes pink. "...I'm kind of a lightweight. Sorry."

"'S okay," Eddie says softly, mirroring him, wrapping his arms around his legs and gazing across at him. "I like looking at you too."

He really does. Eddie always thought his eyes were brown, but they're hazel, lighter up close, specked with green and gold and the stars. His skin is spotted with moles that Eddie wants to memorize. Steve relaxes a bit at the confession, his lips curving into a smile, and he leans closer. Eddie leans closer too.

---

"Where would you go?" Eddie whispers.

He doesn't have to speak any louder. It's so quiet now, especially when Steve's head is a little cloudy and everything feels muffled.

"Anywhere," Steve whispers back. "Just... pack up and drive. Follow the roads to wherever they take me."

Eddie is smiling. His eyes keep flicking across Steve's face in a way that makes him feel a little self-conscious, wondering if there's something on his skin, but Eddie is just looking at him, his eyes aimlessly wandering across his face.

"Sounds nice," he says softly.

They fall silent, and Steve gazes at him. He looks so... soft.

Everyone makes him out to be so scary. Like he's a stray dog, like he's dangerous, but his eyes are dark and shiny, and he doesn't look threatening or menacing at all right now. His head is tilted like he's curious about what Steve is thinking, and his hair looks fluffy, and he just looks a little sad.

Steve wants to kiss him.

He hates himself for thinking it, for thinking how easy it would be to just... lean over. They're so close, and Steve's brain feels fuzzy, and for some reason, he doesn't think Eddie would mind all that much if Steve kissed him. But he can't.

Boys like Steve don't kiss other boys.

Especially boys like Eddie Munson.

It makes his chest ache, and his lip quivers. He sees Eddie notice it, the way the air shifts a little bit. Eddie's brows furrow, and he looks like he's pouting a little. And he's so adorable Steve wants to bite him.

"I hate this fucking town, Eddie," he says weakly, taking a breath to steady himself, because he doesn't want to cry. Not when he actually feels so... good. Good because he's a little high, but also good just because he's with Eddie, who doesn't seem to mind that Steve feels like shit. Eddie, who didn't tell him to just snap out of it, to just deal with it. Eddie, who just smiles despite the way Steve's eyes are glistening with tears, and leans in closer. (Close enough to kiss.)

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he whispers.

It makes Steve laugh, and he wipes the tears that fall down his face.

"Probably not," he says, still laughing softly, his voice wavering, and he sets his chin back on his knee, looking at Eddie. A soft gust of wind blows into the van, and Eddie's bangs shift and his curls fly into his face.

"Let's do it," Eddie whispers after another moment of looking.

Steve blinks. Eddie's smile widens.

"Let's get out of here," he whispers. "Let's just leave this fucking town, they don't need us."

Steve's heart beats faster, and he leans forward.

"Okay," he says.

"We should graduate first," Eddie says, voice still soft. "I gotta make my uncle proud somehow, so if I graduate this year, I'll wait for you, and then we can just..." He shrugs. "Pack our shit. Leave."

"Together?" Steve breathes.

"Yeah," Eddie says, as though it's obvious. Steve smiles, taking a breath, his legs falling as he stares at Eddie. He's serious.

Steve scoffs, smile widening.

"I can, uhm." Eddie swallows, shifting so he's crossing his legs. "I've been thinking about applying at that mechanic that's outside town, Morgan's? I heard they pay well, so I can... I can save some money up."

"I can get a job too," Steve says, almost excited. "There're tons of places in town that are hiring, and I can-- I can save up my allowance from my parents. And I can sell my Beemer."

"Your Beemer?" Eddie says, eyebrows flying up in surprise, which makes sense, Steve supposes. The care is practically who he is, what he's known for, but--

"We won't need it. We can take your van."

Eddie blinks, and his lips curve into a smile.

"Okay," he says softly. "Yeah."

They stare at each other for a moment as it sets it, and Steve's eyes burn.

"Really?" he asks weakly, and Eddie nods, smiling.

"Yeah," he says. "Fuck it. We'll take what we need and we'll just... go. Follow the roads to wherever."

Excitement floods Steve's body, and he moves onto his knees, taking a sharp breath, smiling and smiling and smiling.

"We can-- We can put a mattress back here," Eddie says, looking around the van. "We'll have to share, but--"

"I don't mind," Steve says abruptly. "I don't-- I don't mind sharing."

Eddie's eyes flicker across his face again.

"Okay," he says softly. "And we can... bring some bags and sort them out back here, and-- and food and water, and we can take turns driving. And every night it can be like this," he says, moving a little closer. Steve aches. "We can find beaches, and lakes, and mountains, and we can get high and just explore." His eyes are gleaming excitedly, and he's smiling. "I'll bring my tapes, and you'll get used to metal."

Steve giggles.

"Can I make you listen to my music too?" he asks, and Eddie gives a dramatic, silly eye-roll.

"I guess." And then he's just smiling. "I can bring books."

"Will you read to me?" Steve asks, and then his face flushes with embarrassment. "Just-- I'm not-- I'm not good at reading and--"

"I'll read to you, Stevie," Eddie says gently.

"...Okay."

They look at each other again.

"I can bring some maps," Steve says. "Atlases and stuff. So we know where gas stations are and stuff."

"Yeah, that's smart."

Steve doesn't hear that often. His face flushes with heat again.

"God, I'm so excited," Eddie says, and he's got that grin again, that grin that could convince Steve to do anything. "We just have to graduate. Then we can go."

"How soon after grad?"

"Soon as possible," Eddie says. "I'll pick up my stuff and say goodbye to Wayne, promise to send him postcards 'n shit, and then I can pick you up."

"I won't say bye to my parents," Steve decides out loud, shaking his head. "I'll just-- just leave them a note telling them I'm fine. Or if they're at home, I'll just go."

Eddie nods, eyes bright.

"We're gonna run away together," Steve realizes, his voice soft as he gazes at him, and Eddie tilts his head.

"Yeah. We are."

Steve hugs him.

---

Eddie startles with how sudden it is, Steve tacking him with a hug so hard they fall back against the wall of the van, but he wastes no time hugging him back, arms tight around his waist as Steve buries his face in his neck.

"Sorry," Steve says into his neck.

"Don't be," Eddie mumbles. "Wanted to hug you for ages."

Steve's arms tighten around him, and he settles against him, leaning so their chests press together. Eddie slides his hands over his back, pressing one into his hair. He smells nice.

It's a while that they stay there, wrapped around each other, but Eddie is content to stay there all night, as long as Steve needs.

When they finally part, they don't let go of each other. It's slow, the way Steve's hands slide to his neck, his fingertips cold and his palms warm as they press to his skin, and their faces are so close.

Steve's breath is warm on Eddie's face. Eddie tilts his head, and their noses brush.

He startles away, stomach flipping over, and Steve is looking at him, wide-eyed.

"Were you about to kiss me?" he asks breathlessly. Eddie's stomach clenches.

"I..." Of course he'd ruin everything so soon. "Yeah, I'm-- I'm sorry, I won't do it again, I just..."

But before he can spiral, Steve is reaching out and grabbing his face, pulling him in, and their mouths crash together. Eddie's eyes widen, and his hands fly into the air as he startles, but Steve just holds his face, and they're kissing.

Eddie closes his eyes, his hands finding Steve's shoulders, and the kiss softens as Steve slides his fingers into Eddie's hair.

---

It is soft.

Eddie is soft.

Steve moves closer as Eddie squeezes his shoulders and runs his hands over his biceps, his fingertips slipping under the sleeves of his shirt. Eddie follows, holding him with one hand and using the other to catch himself as he falls back against the wall of the van, and then he's pulling Steve closer by the belt loops of his jeans, and Steve falls against him. They're barely kissing now, just grinning against each other's mouths.

Steve kneels between his legs, spreading his knees to move as close as possible, so Eddie's legs are over his thighs, and he reaches to hold his face again, his palms pressing to Eddie's (soft) cheeks, fingers slipping behind his ears. He kisses softly too, almost tender as he presses a hand into the small of Steve's back and pulls him close. Steve hums, pulling back to tilt his head, glancing at Eddie's lips before he leans back in. They're kissed red, and Steve feels like his heart might be glowing.

Eddie tugs at his back again, shifting and sliding a hand down his thigh, squeezing and pulling

"C'mere," he mumbles. "Sit on my lap."

Steve giggles, shifting so he can sit atop Eddie's thighs.

"Thought you were gonna take me back to my car," he says quietly, pressing a soft kiss to Eddie's lips. Eddie's hands slide over his waist, and he tilts his chin up to look at him.

"I said I would when we're sober," he says, and Steve realizes what he's been looking at when his eyes flicker over his face. "Are you still high?"

Steve pauses, blinking at him.

"Mm... My head feels fuzzy but I can't tell if it's the weed or if it's because you're kissing me."

Eddie hums thoughtfully.

"Maybe we should stick around here a while longer just in case," he whispers. Steve smiles, leaning down and closing his eyes as their noses brush.

"Okay."

Eddie tilts his chin up. Steve kisses him.

"Can we do this when we run away together?" Steve murmurs when they part after a while, breathless.

"'Course," Eddie whispers, kissing him. He reaches up and holds the back of Steve's head, his fingers tangling with his hair, and Steve doesn't mind. He kisses him. "We can do whatever the fuck we want."

"Okay."

He kisses him. And kisses him, and kisses him, and he revels in it like the sunlight. Because he's kissing a boy, sitting atop his lap and feeling his warm hands run over his waist and back and legs, listening to his deep voice let out soft hums and breathy whispers of Steve's name as it all intensifies. And Steve never thought he'd find himself here, but he loves being here.

He runs his fingers through Eddie's hair, untangling it carefully as he sucks on Eddie's lower lip, and Eddie hums quietly, fingers pressing and kneading Steve's thighs in a way no one's ever done before, but it feels so good. Steve sighs.

The sky is dimming when they finally part for more than just breaths between kisses. Eddie laughs softly, hugging Steve's waist.

His hair is messy, frizzy from Steve's fingers, and Steve's shirt is partially untucked from Eddie's, and he kind of feels high, but it's definitely not the weed.

The feeling fades as they drive back to the high school, as Eddie reaches over and holds Steve's leg, as Steve reaches down and twists their fingers together. The parking lot is empty except for Steve's car. (Steve's care car that he's going to sell.)

"I'll see you tomorrow, sweetheart," Eddie says as Steve is getting out of the van. Steve blushes.

"You got a pen?"

"Uh... Yeah?" Eddie rummages through the glove compartment for one and hands it to Steve, who kneels on the passenger seat and pulls at Eddie's hand, uncapping it with his teeth. His brows furrow in focus as he carefully writes his phone number on Eddie's hand.

"Call me," he says as he finishes, the words slurred about the pen cap, and he lets go of his hand, capping the pen again. "When you get home."

Eddie looks at the number, smiling.

"Okay."

He tilts his chin up, which Steve is already learning is his silent sign for wanting a kiss, and Steve leans back into the van, ducking to avoid hitting his head as he stretches over the center console, a hand holding himself up on the passenger seat as he kisses Eddie. Their lips don't land square on each other, and they're both smiling too much to really kiss each other, but Eddie's hand is warm when it finds Steve's cheek, and it's perfect.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he whispers against Eddie's lips. Eddie's fingertip traces his jaw.

He has to tear himself away from Eddie after one last kiss.

He'll invite him to spend the night sometime when he calls him.

dialogue prompts!! ❧ buy me a coffee // check out my commissions ☙

[ceaseless-watchers-special-girl]

on knowing another

(longpost i’m so sorry guys it came to me in the shower)

There’s a vague undercurrent of a theme in the Penumbra Podcast about knowing another person. It’s subtle, but it pops up every so often. It’s shown in the way we get to know the characters, especially as we get an insight into their minds in season 3, but it’s also shown in their relationships with each other, and that’s what I want to explore a little bit more.

Peter Nureyev, as we get to know him.

In season 1, Nureyev waltzes into Juno’s life

"JUNO: out of nowhere on a beam of goddamn starlight"

in Juno’s own words, and we all see him as some incredible, untouchable, unbelievably sexy master thief who’s interested in Juno for some unknowable reason (maybe that’s the Juno kinnie speaking idk). We think he’s cool, we think he’s funny, we think he’s dangerous and we think we love him but really, we’re just interested in him. We don’t actually know him yet.

And then, we have Angel of Brahma. We see his past, from his own perspective. And that’s not how knowing another is supposed to happen, you’re not supposed to be thrust into it headfirst, but that’s what we get with Nureyev, and so one second we don’t know him, and the next, we know him better than anyone else, because we’ve seen that he isn’t perfect. Not because he was wrong to kill Mag, that’s a whole different debate, but because he was put in a difficult situation in which there was no right choice. It is impossible for any person to be perfect, and so it was impossible for us and for Juno to truly know Nureyev until we knew what made him flawed.

Diamond Hijikata

Let’s travel back in time a bit, to when Juno was with Diamond. We see Diamond Hijikata from Juno’s point of view, we know her the way Juno knew her, and it is impossible for us to know her any other way, because we only ever see her through Juno’s eyes. Juno thought Diamond was flawless. I might be projecting a little here, because I thought Diamond was flawless. Every time I listen to Embrace of Ice, I fall in love with the version of Diamond Hijikata in Juno’s head. Sometimes, she says things that don’t quite fit with that version, and I brush it off, because Diamond Hijikata is impeccable, perfect, and so even if she sounds a little condescending at times, even if she sounds like she sees Juno as a toy to play with, as a way to piss of her mother, I don’t believe it. I choose to trust her instead. Because I think I know her.

And then, we get the scene in the third part of Embrace of Ice.

“JUNO: I thought I knew who you were. DIAMOND: You do, doll. Nothing's changed. You've just... learned more.”

But everything’s changed. Diamond isn’t who I thought she was, who Juno thought she was. Her name was Diamond Hijikata, sure. She went to college. She had friends, mostly troublemakers. She liked protests, and standing up for things, and pissing off her mother. She didn’t like flaunting how privileged she was. And that paints a certain picture, doesn’t it? Of a girl who stands up for what she believes in, who uses her own privilege to help those who don’t have any, who refuses to let corrupt authority keep her down; and it’s hard not to fall in love with someone like that. But that’s not who Diamond Hijikata was.

Diamond Hijikata was bored and rebellious. Captain H says so, at the very start of Embrace of Ice.

“HIJIKATA: Doesn't believe a word of what she says when she gets like that. JUNO: I don't think so. When she gets on a tear, she's so…”

Juno doesn’t agree with her. Juno thinks Diamond thinks like he does, that she believes in what she fights for. But when those fights threaten her own life, her own privilege, she backs down, and we are struck with the ugly truth that Diamond doesn’t believe in what she fights for. She doesn’t actually want to help those who are disadvantaged. I’m not even sure she sees Juno as an equal. And the sad fact is, I don’t know who Diamond is anymore. Neither does Juno. And I don’t even know who to be mad at anymore. Diamond hasn’t broken my heart, because the Diamond I was in love with never existed anywhere except in my head. If I had to bet, I’d say Juno feels the same way. And so he doesn’t love Diamond anymore, he never did, but he doesn’t hate her either, because:

“JUNO: The older I get, the harder it is to blame someone for being the most honest version of themselves, no matter how ugly the truth is. I'll take it over a pretty lie every time.”

The thing is, Diamond isn’t a bad person. And you can hear that in her little monologue in Embrace of Ice part 3.

“DIAMOND: Because I’m not a bad person. I'm not.”

She’s right, in a sense. She didn’t really do anything wrong. She wasn’t in on her mother’s plans, she wasn’t trying to thwart Juno at every turn. All she knew was where the ballroom was. She even has a cute little story to go with it. It’s so human, so understandable. But it’s human in a way none of us expected of Diamond Hijikata, because she is not the version of her we have in our heads. If we really knew her, we wouldn’t have been surprised at her actions. So Diamond didn’t betray us, not really. She didn’t intentionally decieve Juno or intend to cause him harm. She just wasn’t who Juno thought she was. And that’s why her actions seems so surprising, why it feels like a betrayal: because we don’t know her. That’s why the thought of her hurts so much: because how are you supposed to mourn losing the person you loved if they never even existed in the first place?

(god, fuck, this whole essay began because I couldn’t stop thinking about Diamond Hijikata, she hurts me so much I can’t even decide how to feel about her. send help.)

Peter Nureyev again

We see inside Nureyev’s mind in season 3, and everyone jokes about how much of a mess he is, but the fact is we love him anyway. And we don’t love him despite it, we love him because of it, because loving another is knowing another and seeing their flaws and saying “I understand”. This ties into what Juno says to Vespa before the wedding:

“JUNO: …everyone thinks they know you, right? They make up a version of you in their heads, and if you don’t play the part right they start asking questions. Sometimes with words. VESPA: Sometimes with a look. I know. JUNO: Yeah. “What’s wrong,” “are you okay,” “you seem angry”... all that. But... I don’t know. One day I wasn’t playing the role the best and I could tell he just didn’t mind. Or... he’d already stretched the role out until it actually fit me. And I realized I’d already done the same thing for him.”

Juno knows Nureyev now. So far, he’s seen Nureyev switch between personas, seen Nureyev when he isn’t playing anyone, been inside his head, lived with him for a year and talked with him extensively about their relationship (I don’t remember any quotes for this one, but I’m pretty sure they mention it in season 3 at some point. Might be Shadows on the Ship?). He knows Nureyev, well enough that the version in his head fits Nureyev perfectly, and so Juno can be certain that the man he loves really is Peter Nureyev, and not a version of him, because he knows Peter Nureyev.

Slip Jackson

Little shift in perspective now, let’s stop focusing on Juno for a second. Slip Jackson, Nureyev’s ex, the guy who’s been driving the plot of the story for the past year or so despite being in a coma. He’s Nureyev’s first love, and he and Nureyev spend a lot of time toying with the idea of knowing each other. They knew each other when they were kids, about 10 years old, and they meet again 6 or 7 years later by chance. A lot has changed in that time — it might not seem like a lot to an adult, but kids develop rapidly, and don’t stop until about 25, so  they’ve both really changed since they saw each other last, and they’ll continue to change. They’re young, and still learning who they are (god, it feels so weird to write that when I’m not much older, but anyways).

And so when Nureyev learns that Slip still does drugs, he’s a little horrified, because he doesn’t understand how Slip could be willing to take that risk. Slip clearly hasn’t developed or matured in the way Nureyev thought he would, and the two of them realise that they don’t really know each other all that well. Slip asks if he’d like to try drugs, and Nureyev refuses, and that’s that for a while. But then they live together for a while, and Slip offers Nureyev a way off Brahma, and he tells him about his dream, about the drug he wants to make. And Nureyev, who’s just figured out that he has the biggest crush on this man, decides he wants to know him a little better.

“NUREYEV: I... would like to try one, I think. Is your offer still open? SLIP: I don't... that's really nice of you, but I don't want you to think you have to try it just to, um, make me feel better, so-- NUREYEV: It isn't to make you feel better. It's to know you, Slip. And I think I'm finding I'd like to know you quite well.”

(Alexa, what’s the most romantic way to tell your boyfriend you want to do drugs with him?)

Then they run away to Saraswati together, and Slip goes on all these secret outings which Nureyev can’t follow him on for a while. Nureyev is forced to trust Slip, to place his life in his hands, but they’re still getting to know each other, and unlike with Juno and Diamond, Nureyev is aware that the version of Slip in his head might not match up with the real Slip. So, he gets paranoid, and the entire mess with the poker game and the executives happens.

But after it, they have a talk. A good one. This is one of the things I love about Slip: he makes Nureyev talk about his feelings, and he’s really good at putting things into perspective. You see it in the latest episode, too, with how they talk about Mag. It’s not perfect, but it seems incredibly mature for someone his age (though, again, not sure how much authority I have on the age aspect of this).

“SLIP: A person can't just tell you who they are cuz we're all too complicated for that. I wouldn't know where to start, and even if I tried, I'd miss most of everything and maybe you'd think I was hiding those things from you, but it wouldn't be true. Too much of me is invisible to me because I'm around it all the time, every day. You can try to see the world from someone else's point of view, but at the end of the day... we're all just ourselves. We're stuck there. But just because I can't say it doesn't mean you can't know it. All I can do is be honest, minute to minute, day by day. I'm sorry I'm not the person you apparently thought I was -- but to be fair, I never said I was that person to begin with. Only you did. So... how about we make each other a promise? NUREYEV: A promise? Promise what? SLIP: A promise to be honest with each other. If we're honest, each of us can give the other the best shot at knowing us, you know? You can decide who Slip Jackson is, and... well. If he's worth your time.”

THIS. This is basically the point of this whole essay (it’s so much longer than I intended I’m so sorry). I start chewing on my own bone marrow every time I listen to this, because he’s so right.

Knowing someone isn’t knowing big things, like their name, or face, or random fun facts about their life. Those are things you pick up along the way. Knowing someone else isn’t knowing what their favourite colour is, it’s them telling you what their favourite colour is and you realising that it makes sense they would like that colour, that it fits in with the image of them in your head. Knowing someone isn’t knowing all their layers, their past, their future, though all those things are important in their own way. Knowing someone is understanding the essence of them, the soul underneath all those layers, the sense of self, of who they are which philosophers have been trying to define for centuries, which Peter Nureyev has been trying to erase from himself for decades.

Slip and Nureyev loved each other because they loved everything they knew about each other, and wanted to know more. Slip’s loss hits Nureyev like a bulldozer because he never really gets to know who Slip is — the chance is taken away from him, and Nureyev is convinced it’s all his fault. He’s determined to bring Slip back so he can finally know who Slip is, even though he’s trying to erase himself so there’s nothing left of himself to love back.

Peter Nureyev forever

And then, season 5. Yowzers.

“NUREYEV: You think you know me. The nameless thief. You presume, just because I've told you my real name and let you peruse a few carefully-curated passages of my life story, that you have access to a "real" me that nobody else does. Is that right? JUNO: This isn't gonna work, Nureyev. That journal was true. I know it was. NUREYEV: (LAUGHS) How could you possibly? JUNO: Because I know you. NUREYEV: You know what I've shown you. Nothing more. JUNO: Can't help but notice you haven't said it yet. NUREYEV: I don't need to play your game. JUNO: If you don't care it'd be really easy to.  "I never want to see you again." Like that. NUREYEV: Childish! JUNO: Once you let somebody know you, Nureyev, there's no going back. They've got your number. Chances are you got theirs, too. I let you know who I am because I love you and I'm scared as hell about what that means, but at least I can admit it, goddammit!”

Nureyev is desperately pushing the idea that Juno doesn’t know him, that Nureyev’s been lying all along, that the “Peter Nureyev” Juno knew was just another persona, that Juno never really knew the real Nureyev, just like he never knew the real Diamond. Because if Juno doesn’t know Nureyev, he can’t possibly love him, and that makes it so much easier to break up with him.

But there’s just one catch here. Juno does know Nureyev. As much as Nureyev wants to pretend that all Juno saw was what he let him see, it’s not true. Juno saw right to the core of him, right to the beating heart of what makes Peter Nureyev Peter Nureyev, and he refused to look away until he knew every inch by heart, and he loved what he knew. He still does. And that’s how he knows that Nureyev needs his help now, that’s why he’s not giving up on our favourite master thief.

And that is why this:

“NUREYEV: I do not want to see you any more, Juno. JUNO: What? NUREYEV: You said it would just take those words to excise you from my life entirely, didn't you? Well, I've said them. I have no interest in seeing you any longer. None. I am done. We are finished. Do you understand me? JUNO: Yeah, I get you. So I guess I'll just... go now. NUREYEV: No! JUNO: I... what?  NUREYEV: I... that is, you…”

didn’t surprise me. Well, the first bit did. But the turnaround made complete sense. Don’t get me wrong, it’s really shitty of Nureyev to do, but he’s at a point in his life where he’s not sure he can handle Juno being in his life, but he loves him far too much to tell him to leave. Even after he breaks up with him, he immediately backtracks.

And that’s why Juno keeps implying throughout the episode that Nureyev might take him back, and why he doesn’t leave at the end despite promising he would. Because he and I both know that Nureyev doesn’t want him to.

Juno never really hides who he is, and so people either love him or hate him. I think that’s really cool of him.

Nureyev hides who he is almost constantly, from almost everyone. It’s so much easier for him to pretend he did the same with Juno, and that’s what he’s trying to do. But he didn’t, so Juno isn’t giving up on him. Juno knows Nureyev, and he loves Nureyev, and so he’s not going to rest until Nureyev is finally okay (or relatively okay, at least).

TLDR: Juno didn't know Diamond all that well, so he couldn't be with her. Nureyev decided he wanted to know Slip so that he could learn to love him, but the opportunity was taken away from him. Juno comes to know Nureyev and he loves him because of it, but Nureyev is determined to go back to being unknown in season 5 so he can distance himself from Juno and pretend they're not in love. Knowing someone and loving them are linked, blah blah blah.

idk man I don’t have a conclusion these are just thoughts. Loving someone is inherently tied to knowing them, ig. Anyways who’s excited for Nureyev to have a mental breakdown???!!

[littlebabywille]

this has probably been written about tons of times but i’ve been thinking a lot about sara/felice’s dynamic. as we know, their friendship started bumpy. felice was drowning in her insecurities and people pleasing, and snaps at sara a few times. but as we learn more about felice, like the amount of pressure she’s under, we also start to see her get kinder and kinder to sara. something that i found so interesting about her character is how she subverts the expectations of the “popular girl” and her actions show that. as she starts to get closer to sara, you see just how giving and generous she is.

that brings me to all the ways felice “gives” to sara. not only does she give her things, she also extends many acts of kindness. the motivations might be multifaceted, but ultimately i think her intentions are always good.

let’s begin with rousseau. from the get, it’s really obvious that felice doesn’t want to ride and that she’s actually not into horses at all. on the other hand, we see that sara really connects with rousseau. letting sara ride rousseau is mutually beneficial; it makes sara happy and rousseau is being taken care of.

she invites sara and simon to the movie night. as the viewer we know she probably did that to impress wille, but really, she didn’t have to do it if she really didn’t want sara to come- she’s genuinely starting to like her.

not only does felice give sara her dress, felice takes the barrettes right out of her hair to give to sara. very symbolic.

friendship! she invites her into her space. she genuinely wants to be friends with her.

i love this scene. when sara tells felice that august kissed her, felice immediately makes it about august being an idiot (so true) and doesn’t blame sara at all. in another “teen” show, this would have gone a totally different direction. felice would have put the blame on sara and it would be a whole thing. i really love yr’s take on female friendship. i think her reaction here says so much about her.

lucia scene; another act of kindness that is motivated by different factors. felice letting sara be the lucia is the perfect example of the juxtaposition of these two characters; what felice rejects, sara desperately wants. i thought it was so special that she let her have this.

this also mirrors august and wilhelm’s relationship. there are so many ways august/wilhelm and sara/felice parallel each other (maybe i’ll do a post about that?).

lastly, miss detective felice- an icon, a legend. this should definitely go on her resume. i love that one of her motivations in finding who took the video was so sara could stay at hillerska. of course she wants to help wilhelm, but i thought the detail about sara was so interesting. this girl has a heart of gold and determination.

all in all, felice rocks and i’m very excited to see how she develops as a character and what her friendship with sara will look like in season 2.

[nafarsiti]

I'm going out on a limb here but this conversation has always haunted me.

Shinichiro killed the old man who talked about time travel but then traveled back in time, meaning the old man is alive again. Shinichiro would have no reason to kill him again so he lives on, and probably lives in every timeline we've had.

Akkun mentions the time leaping. And then he dies.

Kisaki mentions the time leaping. And then he dies.

Chapter 8 in which Akkun dies is called "Reseparate". Chapter 185 in which Kisaki dies is called "Meet His Fate". Technically Kisaki talks about the time leaping and gets hit by the truck in the chapter before which is called "Wind Something Up" (like a jack in the box? which looks like a clown?). To separate again and again, to turn back time to try to stop it. And fate, something that barely was spoken of earlier in the manga but seems to keep coming up recently. Especially from Sanzu, another person who knows about the time leaping. Except fate was actually said in the very first chapter of the manga. By Naoto. He tells Takemichi that he changed his fate. Takemichi is the one who holds everyone fates in his hands, as he leaps again and again to try to save them all.

Akkun called Takemichi "our crybaby hero" in the physical copy of chapter 8, and he asks Takemichi to save everyone. Even though he questions it, it seems like he puts his faith in the time leaping being real. Kisaki is there watching this whole incident in the background, laughing about it. When Kisaki goes to shoot a crying Takemichi in the Bad Toman timeline, he calls him "my hero".

Kisaki and Akkun mentioning the time leaping is strange. They are a strange duo to put together and yet, Akkun seems only aware of things that are happening when he is stuck in Toman. Why does Kisaki insist on using Akkun in multiple timelines when Takemichi has other friends that he is close with. Kisaki truly believes that he can win no matter what setbacks he faces, he knows about the time leaping, he must have someway of affecting timelines even if he is not a time leaper.

Do either of them meet the old man and learn about time leaping? Did Kisaki mention it to Akkun? Are they both a trigger for someone else? If Takemichi can have two triggers, and if Sanzu and Wakasa can both know about the time leaping presumably from Shinichiro, it wouldn't be a stretch to believe that each time leaper can have two triggers. Three time leapers could also be possible. Or it could be something else entirely. We just don't know.

[ladybeug]

he was stupid after all...

thats romance.

merry christmas!!!! I was thinking recently I don't just draw for fun very much anymore, so I put some time aside as a christmas gift for me.

[hiddenmoonbeam]

Finally kissing your best friend, hoping he loves you too.

[starrystevie]

it was all supposed to be a dumb joke.

the boys had been sitting around after rehearsal one night passing a bowl and more than a few beers, laughing about how unsuccessful the newest music based social media app would be. mere seconds of songs looping over and over with other songs mixed in would never work, especially for corroded coffin where the story, the buildup of their songs was part of the reason to listen.

it all started with jeff, grinning slowly ear to ear. "what if were to get in there and take some celebrity's name for a user name? like paris hilton or something."

then it moved to gareth, who paused with a scrunched up face. "dude, paris hilton? what the fuck kind of reference is that..."

then it was over to greg, choking on a smoke-laced laugh. "yeah, it'd be funnier if it was eddie's pop prince loverboy instead."

that got everyone's attention. eddie had protested to ears that didn't want to hear it as they cackled in their studio that they rented by the hour, bent over in their rolling chairs, leaning against the side of the mixing board for support.

"loverboy?! you know i can't stand steve harrington and his bullshit lyrics, what the fuck kind of suggestion is that..."

but come the next day, when the weed had left his system and his veins were alcohol-free, eddie stared at the mixr app home screen and the blinking red circle over his inbox with disdain after successfully acquiring a user name he never would have picked for himself.

'steveharrington', eddie's account says, along with an icon of himself and his tongue out.

if it hadn't been for being less than sober when the app dropped. if it hadn't been for his best friends egging him on with taunts and jeers and kissy noises and less than sincere dreamy calls of 'oh steve' in the background. if it hadn't been for the way that eddie secretly did think about a certain head of floppy hair and soft brown eyes and shoulders littered with constellations.

if it hadn't been for all of that he wouldn't have had the chance to have his celebrity crush, the steve harrington, in his inbox at 8am on a random tuesday morning.

"good morning!" the message says simply enough. eddie stares at the words, trying to process what they mean, looking at the verified username of 'steveharrington1' next to an icon of his most recent album along with it. his inbox is flooded with people all asking him random things, thinking he's the real steve harrington, but this one verified account has him shaking.

for all that eddie is, all big hair and black jeans and skull rings and leather, he's still a man. a man who can look at a pop star, annoying as their music may be, and see charm. he can see attractiveness. he can see that smile that steve harrington has perfected behind his eyelids and he can see them strolling off into the sunset together hand in hand and he can see steve all flushed and breathing heavily underneath him on a mountain of plush pillows and he can see-

the message pings again with a new addition. "i know this seems weird and my team advised against it but i'd really like your user name of... well, my name."

eddie blinks slowly. he pictures steve maybe laying in bed, maybe sitting at the breakfast table with a cup of coffee, with his phone in his hand as he types out a message to him. to think that steve has any idea about him existing on any sort of level is doing his head in. his heartbeat races a little faster as he types back with shaky hands and a pit in his stomach.

"is this real?" is all he can type out, leaning against the kitchen counter as he waits for his coffee to brew.

three dots pull up on the app screen before disappearing and eddie pulls his lip in between his teeth to focus his energy elsewhere. he tears his eyes away from his phone and looks out the window to watch the people out for their morning walks. he's just about to the point where he thinks about maybe taking up walking if nothing else to get all the pent up energy out of him when the app dings again. as he looks back, his heart sinks to the bottom of his stomach.

it's a photo of steve that can't have been released before. he's sitting outside in bright sunshine with sunglasses on, tousled hair and grin on his face. he's holding his hand up in a thumbs up and eddie can see the remnants of cream cheese on the side of his index finger.

he sucks in a stuttering breath through his teeth, trying to force his lungs to breath again. the dots pop up on screen once more and the message that comes through is instantaneous.

"real enough for you?" it reads. and then an additional message is tacked on. "need me to hold up a newspaper with the date on it?"

there's a winky face that follows and it feels fake even though it's very real. this whole morning feels wrong, unreal. he's just eddie munson, some singer in some halfway popular band in some kind of shitty neighborhood in los angeles that just happens to have not just some pop star in his dms. this doesn't happen to him.

"why did your team tell you not to message me? does my reputation precede me?"

eddie pulls his hand up to his mouth to bite at the side of his fingernail, watching the screen with rapt attention and waiting for the typing dots to disappear.

"according to this account your name is steve harrington and yes, i'd say his reputation does precede him."

eddie barks out a laugh, not exactly expecting that.

he didn't know what he was expecting out of any of this. he thought that it might help get the corroded coffin name out more if he got tangled up somehow with the steve harrington name. spark a little bit of drama to boost their visibility. but now here he is, talking to the man himself, cracking jokes and trying not to hyperventilate.

"how were you able to get this name so fast anyway? my team was on it right when the app dropped last night."

"i had the power of bandmates and weed on my side," he types back, side of his mouth quirking up into a smile.

"oh so you're a musician? maybe i should be looking into your reputation then, mystery person."

eddie pauses and thinks about every option. he is semi-known in the metal scene, his outlandish stunts on stage and political speeches at shows that garner them becoming an almost brand for him. if he tells steve who he is, would he know? care? run away from the scary guy who may or may not use stage blood in every music video?

but the thing is, he's not a scary guy and he never has been. he might be a little intimidating and he guesses that's the armor he puts on everyday after being bullied in school but it's not an accurate showing of who he is. eddie is sweet, funny, kind of smart in that has random fun facts about dungeons and dragons kind of way.

and he wants the steve harrington to know that guy.

eddie flips over at his middle so his head is nearly touching the floor and ruffles his hair, giving it volume and calming down the frizz that comes from sleep. he shakes it out of his face once he's upright and grabs his garfield coffee mug if only to have something to do with his hands. grabbing his phone off the counter, he opens the camera option in their message thread and snaps a quick picture of himself grinning, mug next to his face with a matching cat-like smirk. he nervously presses send before he can even think about all the flaws with it.

"eddie munson at your service," is what he types out with a saluting emoji and a muttered prayer to whoever would listen to him that things don't end horribly.

it's not like he's expecting to sweep steve off his feet. he knows that steve has picture perfect partners, he sees enough internet news to know that gruff and dark isn't the kind of guy he normally goes for. but he looks back at the photo he sent and hopes that steve sees the kindness in his eyes, the scruff on his jawline that makes it look just the smallest bit chiseled, the whimsy and life that he embodies that comes from a tacky coffee cup.

there isn't an automatic answer and it makes whatever hope eddie has floating around his system falter. ''at this point you've probably searched me and i can reassure you, i'm not actually a vampire like google seems to think i am."

"holy shit."

it's short, two words followed by typing dots that disappear, reappear, disappear once more before reappearing for the last time.

"would you believe me if i told you that i am huge fan??"

choking on coffee hurts, eddie finds out. he coughs as the hot liquid goes down the wrong pipe and concentrates on the messages once he gets his bearings back. steve, the steve harrington, a fan of his? it's a prank, it has to be, there is no way that steve harrington-

"one of my exes took me to your show at the bowl and it quite possibly changed my life. you gave that speech about the pipeline before the encore and i went home and bought every single one of your albums that same night."

he's dead. the papers will read 'eddie munson found dead in his home in a ratty metallica shirt holding onto a garfield coffee mug and cellphone open to a chat where steve harrington tells him he's a fan of his work'. it's the only way that this is possibly happening. he's died and gone to whatever fucked up version of heaven has him still living in his shitty la apartment.

"are you fucking kidding me?" is what he types back, slamming his coffee mug onto the counter to have access to both hands. "you've heard my stuff?"

and then it happens, like out of a shitty teenage rom-com, his phone is lighting up with an in-app call from steve harrington. the steve harrington. careful not to drop his phone in his hurried movements, he presses accept faster than he thinks his fingers have every worked.

"hello?" he questions into the phone and there's no hello back, just steve apparently freaking out as much as he is.

"i hope this is okay," he says and god, does his voice sound wonderful over the phone like this. "but it's faster and i have too many things to say that typing it all out would be stupid."

eddie grins and his feet tap against the ground like an excited kid. "it's fine, i uhm... i get it. god, this is weird."

steve hums in agreement before laughing. and oh, that laugh. it has eddie floating up to cloud nine, heart thumping painfully in his chest, butterflies beating their wings wildly in his stomach.

"yeah, it's definitely not how i expected this morning to go. talking to eddie munson, wow."

"sure," eddie snorts, "you talk to celebrities all the time, i'm sure this is small fish for you."

he hears steve laugh again, soft and gentle, like it's meant just for eddie. "i might talk to celebrities all the times but not ones that i have posters on my wall of like a pre-teen. i'm properly geeking out right now."

eddie short circuits. that's the only way to explain the way his body shuts down as he slumps into an armchair in the living room.

"you, steve harrington, have posters of me on your bedroom wall?" eddie's mouth feels dry as he talks and regrets making coffee at all because he's wide awake now and feels jittery.

"well okay, to be fair, it's of the whole band and it's in my studio but you are shirtless so i contemplated putting it in my bedroom." something shifts on the other end of the line and it sounds like steve sitting down. there's birds chirping in the background and eddie closes his eyes to picture himself sitting with steve on a patio instead of in his dingy apartment.

"you're gonna give me big head, pretty boy." the pet name slips out before he can stop it and the pitch of his voice lowering is out of his control. eddie can't be held responsible for his actions at 8am especially when he's flirting over the phone with his celebrity crush.

"pretty boy, hmm?" steve murmurs back. "so does that mean you have posters of me too?"

the timbre of his voice shoots from eddie's ears all the way down to his toes, lighting his veins on fire as it travels down his body. the hopeful part of his brain supplies an image of steve smirking, relaxing in a pool chair outside of what must be a mansion, phone in one hand and cup of coffee in the other. it could be domestic, if eddie thinks about it hard enough. if he wants it enough.

and god, does he want that. domestic bliss with steve harrington.

"well i wouldn't exactly call picturing you in my dreams every night posters, but it's close enough i guess."

it's gutsy, it's brash, it's too forward for a tuesday morning but steve started it. he hears a shaky exhale on the other end of the line and lets out a chuckle. it feels like they're playing chess and there's no clear cut winner quite yet but if the match ends in a tie, eddie can't exactly say he'd be upset about it.

"i tell you what," steve says in an almost airy voice. "in exchange for giving me my user name, i'll give you my number and you can use it to see me in something other than your dreams tonight."

"...are you bribing me, harrington?"

"is it working?"

eddie takes in a deep breath and thinks about what possible plans he could have with the username 'steveharrington' that would amount to something better than taking the man himself out on a date with his phone number saved as a contact in his phone. he'd put a heart next to it and everything.

"of course it is."

the call drops away and it's quick enough for eddie to think everything that happened in the last 30 minutes could have been a fever dream but then there's three dots on the message thread and his hopeful heart starts to kick back into gear.

"213-555-5469. let me know when you've given up that username and i'll let you know when to pick me up. it's a win-win all around. turns out we each get to go a date with our celebrity crushes, how lucky is that?"

it's signed with a kissing face emoji and eddie's glad that he's sitting down when the last picture steve sends comes through. he's grinning in a way eddie's never seen before, blush high on his cheeks, sweaty shoulders and collarbones and pecs glinting in the early morning sun, and eddie thinks it's probably too early to be in love with someone but he's well on his way.

he texts the number he's sent without hesitation and without shaking hands this time. he signs the message with a black heart like it's a signature of it's own.

"lucky indeed."

[thatndginger]

Some of my best ideas tend to happen when I ambush Person with a plethora of barely-related questions on a topic I know he enjoys. It’s fun. Until he pulls up his favorite youtube channel and shows me a bunch of upsettingly weird guns throughout the 1900’s. This strange foray did lead to a few good things tho.

First, the following exchange:

Me: We’re gonna get [cat] a Kolibri! It’s perfect!

Person: No, because she’ll use it to shoot [dog] and then [dog] will be sad.

For reference - THIS is a Kolibri 2.7mm pistol. It weighs 7 ounces.

(must learn how to art so I can draw the cat like a 1920’s lady gangster with a Kolibri)

Secondly, he helped me gain a greater insight into how I will incorporate and portray a military presence in War Witch. It’s a pretty important part of the story. ‘Cause, you know. WAR Witch.

Anyway. The world of War Witch is analogous to Earth circa 1910 in terms of technology and global advancement. So the weapons and strategies will be more or less edited copy-pastes of WWI, but with a mix of WWI and WWII military command. WWII had the concept of specialized units (paratrooper, anti-tank, recon, armored) within the general infantry structure, and I really wanna steal the idea of a recon squad for Mari’s soldiers. 

I’ve also decided that certain cultural aspects of WWI, WWII, and even parts of the American Civil War will find their way into this. From WWI we have greater nations using smaller ones (or factions) as their pawns in a struggle for power. From WWII we have the ‘must revenge ourselves against unfair treatment’ and most European nations’ refusal to step in until it personally affected them. From the Civil War we have the brother-fighting-brother concept and, of course, civil war. Especially from the Civil War and WWI are the complete and utter destruction of life that had never been witnessed before, and the way that people reacted and coped with the mounting death tolls. 

That’s always been the part that fascinated me the most about wars. I couldn’t give a shit less about battle tactics and weaponry and which general said what. I look for the way that these wars impacted culture, impacted the way people interacted with each other and the world around them. The Civil War spawned the widespread use of embalming techniques and an uprising of spiritualism in the US. WWI spawned the Geneva Conventions, treaties that drew the line of what is humane and what is heinous; as well as modern techniques for plastic surgery, blood banks, hygienic surgery. WWII gave us an acute knowledge of the absolute worst things humans could do to each other, and of our duty to stand up against evil, even if it seems like we’re standing alone. Also the knowledge of penicillin’s antibiotic properties and the ability to manufacture penicillin in mass quantities.

This got a little more long-winded than I intended, but that’s usually how my thoughts go anyway. I always intended for War Witch to be a story about the horrors of technological war, but I’ve decided that I’m gonna pilfer a little bit from everything. I’ll probably pull from the Vietnam, Korean, Afghanistan, and Iraq wars too, but my little historian ass is stuck too far in the past still.

[kiwikiwiandkiwi]

HARRY BEING HARRY ON TOUR — Love on Tour: UK + Europe Leg, 2023

[fawnnbinary]

finally,,, East Blue Polycule Smooches,,,,,,

[updownlately]

in your embrace (this crowded room doesn’t matter)

| leah williamson x reader

~~~

“You tired yet?” The soft murmur of words against your ear had you relaxing, the familiar voice automatically putting you at ease. 

Closing your eyes at the feel of her breath on your ear, you hummed in thought, processing the question as music filtered in from the speakers near you. 

Continuing to sway gently in the dim light, you tightened your grasp around Leah’s neck and pulled back ever so slightly, your eyes meeting blue ones.

“Not quite yet. Are you?” 

“I don’t think I can ever be tired while being in your arms…” 

Smiling shyly, you shook your head. “Half past midnight and your flirting just doesn’t stop huh?”, you questioned. 

The cheeky shrug and teasing smile you received in response had you quietly laughing, you tucking yourself back into the crook of the blonde’s neck, letting her guide you as the song changed. 

You both had spent the day celebrating love, having been invited to an old teammate’s wedding.

Partying hard through the better part of the evening and night, on the dance floor with friends and teammates, Leah had whisked you away a short while ago, just as the slow songs had once again come on, more than glad to finally get some time alone with you after the hectic day. 

The pair of you had ended up tucked near the back, lost in your own world as song after song had played, tons of other couples rotating on and off the dance floor as you two stuck around.

“I can’t believe we managed to make it on time…”

The quiet statement had Leah groaning in playful annoyance, her grip on your waist tightening.

“Not my fault you’re a distraction!”

“Me? I was ready on time…hair and makeup both done long before Uber had arrived. And if I recall correctly, it wasn’t me putting on lipstick and blush in the car, love.” 

Your hushed jest had the blonde hanging her head back, your pace slowing as she chuckled quietly at the memory. 

“At least the music was decent this time.”

Biting back a smile, you followed Leah’s movement without thinking, mind occupied recalling the morning before the wedding ceremony. 

Though the pair of you had woken up on time- a miracle if you were asked, considering it was a Saturday off- you had somehow managed to spend a tad bit (read: over an hour) too long in bed, more content with lazily cuddling as the time ticked by, you both blissfully unaware until your warning alarm had rung.

It had been a scramble to get ready in time for the wedding, the both of you running around the apartment grabbing all that you needed, you claiming the main ensuite and ushering Leah and her suit to the guest one so that you could both be ready to go.

Even with your strategic separation, the blonde had ended up over in your shared bedroom, eventually roped into zipping you up and helping you with your jewelry. 

Somehow, helping you out had turned into a small make out session, and well, if Leah had to fight the bumps on the road as she sang along to the radio whilst sorting out the final touches on her make up as the result of the time lost, you definitely weren’t the one complaining, more than content with your finished look and the presence of the blonde beside you. 

Snapping out of your thoughts as you heard the familiar strumming of your favourite James Arthur song play, you pulled back to smile at Leah, the blonde returning the sentiment as she tugged you ever so closer, your faces mere inches apart.

Matching grins on your faces, you matched your steps with Leah, softly waltzing under the dimmer lights in the back, satisfied with the knowledge that you would likely not be bothered, more than happy to be consumed in your own world, in your love. 

“…I’m so in love with you…and I hope you know…,” Leah sang lowly, just loud enough for you to hear. 

Finishing her line, you smile grew as you continued the song. “…darling, your love is more than worth its weight in gold…” 

“…we've come so far, my dear…look how we've grown…and I wanna stay with you until we're grey and old…just say you won't let go…”

Voice dropping as you let the midfielder finish the stanza, you shook your head in amazement, blush coating your cheeks as your thought of how lucky you were. 

Head tilting as the soft hue reflected perfectly off of Leah’s eyes, you took a second to admire the darker colour that they appeared to be, as well as the rest of your girlfriend.

“You look absolutely incredible in this dim light- the way it’s perfectly highlighting your jawline and cheekbones, you’re gorgeous. And it’s somehow making your eyes nearly look this ethereal navy colour. Never thought they could get prettier but here we are…” You let your voice trail off, the quiet murmur over the music disappearing as you traced over the facial features of the one you loved, noting the rosy hue that covered her cheeks at your compliment. 

Rubbing your thumb comfortingly on the nape of Leah’s neck, you watched her wordlessly accept your compliment, her eyes not meeting your gaze telling you that Leah appreciated your comment. Picking up your pace once again and tightening your hold around her shoulders, you brought yourselves closer, picking up the pace to match the new song that played, an Ed Sheeran one this time. 

Taking a second to break out of your bubble as the song faded out, you took a look around the hall, realizing you were the only couple left on the dance floor, even the straggling drunk folks having sat down or headed out. 

Glancing up at your watch, eyes widening as you saw the time had nearly hit half past one, you slowed down your pace, looking around once more only to notice even the DJ wasn’t at their station, likely a playlist the source of the music playing. 

Bringing Leah’s attention to the station as you stopped dancing, you cast the blonde a look of disbelief before bursting out into laughter. 

“Leah, I can’t believe we’ve stayed out here that long…everyone else’s nearly gone!”

And as Leah’s head swivelled around in search for your friends, well aware that the newly-wed couple had headed out a little while ago, you held back your laughter, amazed at how the time flew by as you both had spent the nearly two hours dancing together, lost in each other’s embrace, completely blind to everyone else’s presence (or lack thereof) in the room. 

Turning back to you with a shocked look on her face, the blonde just barely managed to sputter out her next words. “We surely couldn’t have been dancing for that long, right?”

“Leah, I really think we ‘J-Lo’d’ this and very much have ‘danced the night away’,” you responded, giggling at your horrible joke. 

Shaking her head amusedly at the lame line, the blonde grabbed your hand, leading you towards your table. 

“I wish we could’ve danced a bit longer…forever even…” 

Wrapping your arm around Leah’s waist, you brought your joined hands up to your lips, placing a kiss on the back of her hand before stopping her in her tracks and nudging her to look at you, your voice just loud enough for you two to hear.

“How about this...at our wedding, you and I’ll make sure to dance until both our feet ache, okay?” 

Looking up into eyes shining with unspoken love, you let yourself be pulled into Leah’s embrace, sinking happily into the emotion-filled kiss being placed on your lips- the unsaid agreement clear.

Basking in the pure adoration, you held on tightly to Leah, grip only loosening as Leah pulled back, her wiping the slightly smudged lipstick gently off your face. Blonde head nodding vigorously, her response was enthusiastic. 

“I think I’d love that.”

Balancing on your tiptoes, you placed a final chaste kiss on the blonde’s lips as if to agree to the final decision before grabbing her hand and continuing your trek to your table.

Looking back as you walked ahead, you shot the blonde a wink and a sly smile, quickly grabbing Leah’s coat before speaking.

“Great! Then all that’s left is for you to propose!”

And as you left a wonderfully perplexed Leah at the table, you slowly began walking backwards to the parked car, a proud smile on your face as you faced the Englishwoman, a lovesick grin of disbelief shining from her.

You absolutely couldn’t wait to marry her. 

[rainbow-femme]

Thinking too much about AFTG again and I know we rag on Neil for being oblivious but I don’t think Andrew understands for most of the story that Neil likes him back

(FYI I haven’t read all the extra content, Nora may have said something about Andrew’s mindset that contradicts this, I don’t care it’s my literary analysis and I control my interpretation and the only canon that exists is what’s in the books. Also I’m Jewish, and the number one rule is anything can be true so long as you can back it up textually)

You’ve got the whole “I’m not your answer and you sure as fuck aren’t mine” line. By this point two things have happened recently: Neil has become outwardly more emotionally and physically vulnerable, and Neil has shown more interest in spending time with Andrew as well as interest in Andrew in general. And Andrew’s response to this seems to be the assumption that Neil is having a crisis he isn’t sharing and seems to have decided that Andrew is the answer to fixing that crisis. To be fair he is having a crisis, Andrew is just an unrelated benefit.

Which makes sense, most of his relationships are based, at least in Andrew’s mind, on him providing a service in exchange for someone’s presence in his life due to his belief that people will not be around him otherwise. So if Neil is looking at him in an open, appreciative, and interested way he seems to assume it’s because Neil, the terrified guy on the run from something, has found himself enjoying the stability Andrew provides and is seeing being near Andrew as a solution to his problems. That maybe Neil has tricked himself into thinking he has feelings for Andrew because he likes having someone take care of him and that’s the reason, and we see from Andrew stopping the kiss when Neil is upset that he does not consider being interested in someone while emotionally vulnerable to be real consent, therefore if Neil is interested in him due to being upset and afraid that is not Neil actually being interested. He also is clearly very agitated by this first kiss, seeming to see himself as a predator who lost control and harmed Neil by taking advantage of him.

He also continues to do nice things for Neil after getting back, despite initially seeming to express frustration, disinterest, and distaste for Neil. Giving him keys to the car, buying him a new charger, giving Neil the shotgun seat. Andrew’s habit of feeling the need to incentivize the people he cares for to stay with him, as well as what appears to naturally be his love language of giving gifts and acts of service as a replacement for verbally sharing emotions. I’m not saying that when he’s doing nice things it’s for personal gain, but I think part of him feels good doing it and part of him believes this is all he has to offer this person. He got back and didn’t say nice things to Neil because he can’t, but he can quietly take care of Neil in a way that says “please stay with me, I want you to be ok” that he verbally can’t. He knows Neil values the ability to leave upsetting situations, that Neil reacted positively the last time Andrew gave him keys, gives Neil a way to charge his phone ie have a lifeline to safety and Andrew when needed, and he’s saying that he still implicitly trusts Neil with things that are important to him. And of course shotgun means “I want you to be the person who is nearest to me”. He similarly starts making a habit of sitting next to Neil when the team is together. Andrew very much is a cat, he’s going to swat at you but also glue himself to your side

There’s also the various moments where Andrew states out loud that he has an attraction and growing emotional attachment to Neil that he has already written off as impossible. He calls Neil a pipe dream, says he knows nothing will come of having an interest in Neil without having made any attempts to see if Neil is interested. If you follow up a confession of interest with a statement that nothing will happen, you can’t be hurt by rejection because you didn’t give the person a chance to reject you.

And it doesn’t seem like it’s because Andrew is purposely avoiding attachments to people. Most of the effort he puts into his life is in his relationships, specifically into giving people reasons to stay near him. He makes the deals with Kevin and Aaron, he could have gone to a school with a more competitive Exy program but went to one where Nicky and Aaron could come and be on the team and in fact made that a requirement, he proves to Kevin that he made the right choice in making Andrew his shield by attacking anyone who hurts Kevin and putting a target on his own back. Before the start of the books we know he went out of his way to connect with Renee and do things for her that meant a lot to her, things that again seem to represent “I am doing her a favor, therefore she will be more likely to stay.” And anything else could be written off as born again Christian charity rather than acknowledge she has love and care for him.

He doesn’t see an attempt at connecting with Neil to be useless because he has no interest in building relationships with people, if there’s anything Andrew is passionate about it’s building and maintaining relationships with people. He sees it as obviously useless because there’s no way Neil would legitimately want to be with Andrew in the same way that Andrew wants him, that it is impossible to consider Neil reciprocating the way he’s feeling because all he wants is Neil himself and he doesn’t think anyone could just want him and think it’s enough.

Neil says he allowed himself to be abused by the Raven’s for two weeks on the chance he could help Andrew, that he wants to care for Andrew even without any personal benefit, and that is when Andrew calls him a pipe dream. Neil has just said that he, the guy who previously was so terrified for his own safety that he put it above all else, would willingly sacrifice his safety for Andrew. When Neil says this Andrew covers his mouth to make him stop talking, which to me suggests that this revelation was an absolute gut punch to him, that what happened to Neil was not only for his sake but accomplished nothing. Andrew’s reaction to Neil saying this is to say that Neil was supposed to be a side effect of the drugs. Meaning what Neil just said made him feel so strongly for Neil that he previously assumed it could not possibly be something he naturally has the capacity to feel.

(And he stills says that he doesn’t think he could ever have from Neil what he wants. So yeah Neil isn’t the only one who can hear a heartfelt confession and come to the conclusion that the other person is completely uninterested)

Also the whole “there is no this” conversation they loop through a few times. Again, Andrew loves building relationships, but they all are ticking clocks in his head, most of them graduation unless he can come up with something to convince them to stay. And then Neil keeps trying to say that there exists a relationship between them that has not been carefully negotiated with a clear end date, which is probably terrifying to a guy who doesn’t think he can trust anyone unless he is providing them something that makes him more useful around than not.

What Neil is proposing is that Andrew has intrinsic value and his presence is all Neil wants, and that probably seems terrifying and untrue. If Neil isn’t getting a tangible benefit that outweighs any perceived inconveniences, and if there is no point where they “re-up” their contract, then at any moment Neil could change his mind and take this thing away from Andrew. He’s had people he loved decide he’s not worth it, he knows it can happen and how terrible it is to experience. He willingly dealt with Drake and harmed himself to keep Cass, and he still lost her because he in and of himself wasn’t enough to be kept and loved because he wasn’t easy enough to love, he was broken, he was damaged. There can’t be a non transactional relationship between them because Andrew can’t see himself being enough and thinks losing it would be too painful to willingly risk

(Nicky, Kevin, and Aaron also seem to have this same view as Neil in their own way of Andrew’s inherent worth to them. Nicky really deserves more recognition for clawing his way to happiness then willingly giving it all up and upending his life and doing things repeatedly that make him unhappy because he cares so much for Aaron and Andrew, aligning himself against possible friends who could make him happy because he will always choose supporting Andrew over himself. And you have Aaron showing that he will fight Andrew tooth and nail if it means they can have a good and lasting relationship, and we see Kevin form genuine love and affection for Andrew outside of their deal, but again Andrew seems to view the relationships at the time as transactional or obligatory on their ends)

Or my favorite, the scene where Andrew makes a comment about Neil’s “neck fetish.” Neil has kissed his neck only about two times by that point, and both times it has elicited what is clearly a pleasurable response from Andrew. But Andrew can’t accept the idea that Neil is doing something with no benefit to himself and only a benefit to Andrew, that he is choosing to take time away from his own immediate pleasure to do something solely for Andrew’s enjoyment of the moment

Neil responds to the comment by saying “You like it, I like that you like it.” Neil is saying that he cares enough about Andrew to have paid attention to what pleases him and wants to take the time when they’re together to make Andrew feel good in a way that Andrew makes him feel good, that he knows Andrew has trauma with physical touch on most of his body but this is a way he can reciprocate that has no negative connotations for Andrew and serves solely to make him feel good. And Andrew does not or cannot let himself see it that way because it’s too vulnerable.

The sex is supposed to be transactional, this is what Andrew has to offer to make Neil stay with him, uninterrupted time of Andrew making him feel good and asking for nothing in return. Neil is breaking the rules, he’s making it reciprocated, if he is making Andrew feel good then Andrew doesn’t have that safety net of being the one with something to offer. So it has to be something that secretly benefits Neil, it has to be that Neil is getting something out of it or Andrew is back to not having anything special that he offers to make Neil stay with him. If it’s just Neil sitting back while Andrew gets him off then Andrew is automatically the most convenient sexual partner for Neil and he won’t look for someone else. If it’s reciprocal, then it stops being a favor Andrew is doing and takes effort on Neil’s end, as well as means the sex includes Andrew knowing what it’s like to be loved and cared for, which means he will feel it’s absence when Neil inevitably leaves because Andrew isn’t convenient enough.

It honestly seems like the turning point is his conversation with Aaron about breaking their deal, Aaron making him choose their deal or Neil. Because it A. Forces Andrew to see that Aaron intends to stay in his life without the deal, meaning that yes one of the most important people in Andrew’s world loves him without a contract. And B. It forces Andrew into a position where he has to take a leap of faith that Neil isn’t going to just walk away, that Neil sees Andrew the way Andrew sees him. And I wonder if Aaron brought up the conversation he had with Neil, that Neil said he didn’t think Andrew would fight for him, and he realized that Neil not only has been thinking about him the way he was thinking about Neil, but that he had this person in his life that he cared about and he was acting in a way that made that person not feel valued and it could probably cause the very thing he wants to avoid by pushing him away.

So you finally get the very end of the last book where Andrew doesn’t deny it when Neil says Andrew likes him, which is for him incredibly vulnerable. He’s shown that he will always protect Neil without their deal of protection, and Neil has shown that he sees everything about Andrew that other people don’t like and he loves Andrew anyway.

Because the story is from Neil’s point of view we see his internal growth as he learns to recognize and accept love and care from others but Andrew has been doing the same, realizing and trusting that Kevin and his family will still be there even if he has nothing tangible to offer, and accepting that someone could genuinely know and understand him, all the things that make him inconvenient, and still want him with no extra incentive because even as broken as he sees himself to be he still has value to others and he can trust Neil in the way he wants Neil to trust him

[messiahzzz]

while it’s perfectly fine to have your own headcanons that are non-canon compliant — by all means, go wild. recognizing pieces of yourselves in fictional characters can be a very healing and validating experience. this is nonetheless a casual, well-intentioned reminder that gale, in fact, does not have bpd.

bpd is a pervasive pattern of instability affecting interpersonal relationships, self-image, and mood. the disorder is marked by impulsivity beginning in early adulthood and is present in a variety of contexts. a diagnosis requires at least 5 of the following 9 criteria to be met:

Fear of abandonment

Unstable or changing relationships

Unstable self-image; struggles with identity or sense of self

Impulsive or self-damaging behaviors (e.g., excessive spending, unsafe sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, binge eating).

Suicidal behavior or self-injury

Varied or random mood swings

Constant feelings of worthlessness or sadness

Problems with anger, including frequent loss of temper or physical fights

Stress-related paranoia or loss of contact with reality

source: [x]

i highlighted the criteria that do apply to gale in one way or another in a pretty purple.

i personally believe that it’s rather harmful to equate his relationship with mystra with her being “his fp”. she is a deity, his goddess, and the source of his powers, who is in in full control of the magic he wields.

gale: mystra commands all magic. salvation, if such a thing exists, is hers to bestow or withhold.

gale has been effectively groomed and conditioned to serve and revere her at every turn since early childhood. imo this comparison really undermines a lot of crucial points in gale’s story that deal with his overall trauma and abuse. after all, you wouldn’t call shar sh*dowhe*rt’s fp either.

gale doesn’t revile mystra, nor does he commit benevolent deeds solely motivated by the secret hope that she will somehow notice and take him back. when you meet gale in the game he has already fully come to terms with the fact that he has been abandoned by mystra with no hope of reconciliation whatsoever. he also had some very fitting lines in ea regarding this topic that i'm sad haven't been repurposed in the full release in some way.

gale: [the tadpoles] don't know that some things are impossible. they don't know that... they don't know. player: what is impossible about what you're being shown? gale: forgiveness. gale: it is mystra i see. and yet it cannot be her. there was a time when i would have believed - but no longer. gale: suffice it to say she would not bestow upon me the favors promised in these dreams. that is how i know they are delusions.

he has already reached the stage of acceptance. moreover, gale only starts to realize that mystra might have been in the wrong for requesting his death once the tadpole squad & tav speak some sense into him. and even then he doesn’t ever show that his emotions regarding mystra are anywhere along those lines. he is instead rightfully angered that she only saw value in his death, after he had been worshipping her loyally for years.

gale: i worshipped mystra loyally for years, and in that time she granted me the barest sliver of the power i was ready to wield. gale: even with the fate of the world at stake, she had little more to offer me than the means of blowing myself up at a more convenient time. she's done nothing to help us.

gale: you abandoned me in my hour of greatest need. i had no obligation to help you in yours. gale: because you had no right to ask that of me. you cast me out, remember?

gale doesn’t display rapid changes in mood either. he is a character who is generally very composed and has been known to remain nonchalant even in the face of utter horror. tim downie himself even commented on this once. source: [x]

the only instance i can think of is his sudden switch from resigned-to-death to utter-eye-sparkling-enthusiasm once he spots the crown of karsus. apart from crucial story reasons that i won’t touch upon in this post, i’d also like to add that it’s a rather common phenomenon for people who have just barely survived a suicide attempt to suddenly be filled with zeal and unbridled energy. he doesn't display impulsivity without thorough consideration when it comes to its acquisition either. he considers this a golden opportunity and is positively enthusiastic and elated that this might prove an alternative to him ending up in a cloud of netherese smoke. nonetheless, he knows what he is doing. evident in him actually succeeding in ascending in one of his endings.

gale: this is no passing whim, trust me. if i can obtain that crown, it will affect us all. it is not a decision i'll take lightly. gale: it's our future that i'm thinking of - we can't rely on anyone else to do it for us. gale: for now - we've learned all we can.

neither are his relationships that we do know of (namely elminster, tara, and morena) frequently changing. they are marked by years of mutual respect, care, and consistency. there is nothing unstable about them. while it's important to note that his relationship with tav is still in its honeymoon stages during the main game, there is no inclination of any push-and-pull dynamic between them whatsoever.

gale isn’t preoccupied with keeping up some sort of benevolent act in order to win (back) affection — he genuinely IS a good person and he proves this at every turn. moreover, to have a tressym become your familiar you must be of Good alignment.

(taken from tumblr user galedekarios's post.)

there is never a moment where his ideals or alignment suddenly change. in fact, i’d argue that he and wyll are most consistent in this regard when compared to the rest of the companions. gale makes his moral standpoint very clear from the beginning on and also explicitly states that he believes that in order to survive this entire ordeal it would be selfish of him if he wouldn’t be willing to compromise on his morals. this isn’t a sudden bout of ✨muahahaha wizard hubris✨ that he barely contained to hold in before, this is yet another act of selflessness — it is what he’s willing to do for the group and subsequently, the welfare of faerun.

player: i love unsavoury things. don't feel guilty on my account. gale: that's good to know. although i should say i do what i do out of a sense of utility and pragmatism, not a love of the unsavoury. gale: we're up against the greatest threat faerun has ever faced. i don't mind getting my hands dirty if it gives us a better chance of surviving. gale: whatever advantage i can gain for us. i will. and i refuse to feel guilty for it, no matter how much mystra's chidings might echo in my skull.

this is him, once again trying to be useful in whatever way he can. to give them an advantage, a slither of hope against seemingly impossible odds, so they might make it out of this in one piece. gale wouldn’t approve of those actions under normal circumstances, but their predicament is as far from any definition of “normal” as it can get.

gale is no fool, he realizes this is essentially about survival. he knows that he has no option left other than to tolerate, which is why he can be convinced to not immediately depart tav’s company even if they choose to commit atrocities. this is no character flaw of his or him displaying a previously dormant openness for cruelty, this is about recognizing the necessity.

player: you don't stand a chance alone. you're free to go. i dare you. gale: gods damn you - you're right. few things are more powerful than the will to live.

gale: i thought the orb to be the greatest of my sins, but i see now that there are darker depths to which i might yet sink. you may be content to sink into that abyss, but i assure you - i am not.

gale doesn’t lead a split existence. he has a very strong sense of identity. he knows what he wants, what he doesn’t want and he isn’t shy in expressing his boundaries either. which he has especially shown when it comes to his relationship with tav. i originally had intended to touch upon this in another post entirely but: i firmly believe his entire Gale of Waterdeep™ persona is more of a performance than him struggling to find a sense of identity and trying them on for size. it is an intentional decision to separate gale dekarios from the great wizard of waterdeep, to create distance and make sure his family name remains untarnished in case things should ever go sideways.

gale: i agree. and on the plus side, if i get myself into any truly cataclysmic straits during the remainder of our journey, my family name will go untarnished.

there is also a deep-rooted feeling of unworthiness and his firm belief that love and praise are conditional resources that he will only be granted through his talents alone, naturally. presenting himself as gale dekarios, the man, would mean highlighting his shortcomings and very human flaws, while distracting from the aspects of himself that are deemed praiseworthy, the ones that actually matter: his magical prowess.

i personally believe that part of the beauty of gale’s story is him realizing just how “little” it takes for him to be truly content. he gets his happy ending, with someone at his side who truly sees him, understands him and unabashedly commits to him. they worship and adore him in return — and it is well deserved. he isn’t reduced to be constantly and restlessly searching for some unattainable ideal to fill the gaping void within himself. he doesn’t secretly thirst for more power still or believes that in being with tav he is settling for something. instead, he is finally happy to just be. be and be accepted. teaching a class of unruly wizards and coming home to his spouse each day already fulfills him.

gale: that's how i feel with you - content. it's a rather unfamiliar feeling, i must say. not something gale of waterdeep ever craved.

even if he doesn’t pursue a romance with tav, he reaches a realization of “oh, it appears i am not irredeemably flawed and only able to reach true redemption through my own death. what i needed was actually with me all along.” throughout their journey and through his friend's support. i think that’s a very powerful and comforting message. he is very well capable of finding peace within himself.

devnotes: his default state is that he returned to waterdeep and became a professor of illusory magic at his former school, blackstaff academy. general vibe here is that this is a gale who's found peace with himself - he's a great teacher, one his students are mostly in awe of.

to repeat myself: sharing your headcanons is all in good fun, nor should you ever be discouraged from doing so. this is your personal tumblr experience, after all. but i personally think we should be mindful of unintentionally perpetuating negative stereotypes, such as narcissism being a general indicator or being deemed a classic depiction of bpd. i think we can all agree that the continuous longing for acceptance, connection, praise, and approval is something we all have in common deep down, regardless of whatever disorder we may have. [insert victoria justice meme here]

gale may be many things to many people, but he is no entitled narcissist.

[writingforrhys]

cassian is so hunky

you've caught me at a wonderful time cause i'm in such a cassie mood

Blistering

cassian x reader contents: SO MUCH PINING and a good amount of suggestiveness

masterlist

It was hot. So, so hot.

Despite living in the definition of the North of Prythian, the heat was blistering. The summer heat was relentless for the most part, yet the sun beams reflecting off of the tall peaks of the mountains made it impossible to think straight.

At least that's what you were convincing yourself.

The condensation from your bottle of water dripped down your fingers as you stood rigid next to the training mat. Much to your chagrin, your family had decided the night before over a bottle of wine, obviously, that a collective early morning training session was long overdue.

Yes, you could admit, you always had fun with them. There wasn't anything in your life that could compare to spending time with your family and, on the rare occasion that you could catch them all in one space, you savoured their company. But right here, right now? As the sweat rolled down your brow and your clothes clung to every patch of skin it could, you wanted to be anywhere but this blistering roof.

Well, now with your gaze upon the General, you could admit that this was a blessing in disguise. He was magnificent.

His back muscles rippled gorgeously in the sun, his arms flexing to and fro as he sparred with Azriel. He was quick and nimble, despite his giant stature; he knew exactly what to do with himself, dodging Azriel's attacks expertly. Your stare focussed on the damp hair sticking to his neck, the half-up do he'd put together now coming apart and framing his beautiful, beautiful face.

Oh, how you wanted him. You'd wanted him for three centuries. He was undoubtedly the most handsome male you'd ever met, and he was kind too. So kind, so generous, so funny, and so hot.

Every touch from him set your body on fire. You savoured every laugh you could draw from him, or every time you shared a private glance across a room. It was your life's mission to make him smile, to have that deep vibrato ripple from his chest as he put his shiny canines on show.

You'd always been close. Connected. When you first met the Inner Circle, you were immediately drawn to him. He intimidated most with his height, build, and domineering demeanour; but not you. No, to you he was a spectacle. He was a steaming cup of tea on a winter's day; yet he was also the cold nipping at your nose when the snow had begun to fall.

He was balance, he was harmony.

"You okay there, dreamer?" A snicker.

"Oh, give her a break, Rhys. She can't help that she's hopelessly infatuated."

You broke your stare from Cassian's silhouette, your face now a flushed maroon, "The two of you are incorrigible."

Rhysand and Feyre chuckled amongst themselves, and then his arm wrapped delicately around her waist. You could only burn in jealously watching the movement; the only time Cassian's arms were around you that way was in your imagination, just before you were waking up with a warmth at your core.

"Do you ever work out up here or do you just stare pathetically at him?"

"Rhys!" Feyre's jaw dropped.

"What?" He released a hearty laugh, "It's been three hundred years of watching her pine, Feyre darling. You haven't run out of patience like I have."

You floundered for a response, mouth opening and closing, then settled on turning your back to them and filling your water bottle.

Then, finally, "He doesn't feel that way. It's easier to stare from a distance than embarrass myself horrifically."

You could almost hear Feyre's eyes soften behind you. She was far more sympathetic towards you than her mate, having held you on the many nights you'd cried over the male, that he'd never love you like you loved him.

"Well with the way he's staring holes into your ass right now, I'd have to disagree."

You'd never turned faster.

The High Lord was right, he was staring straight at your ass. Well, now he was dragging that look all the way up your body, gliding over your curves until he met you eye to eye. He didn't look away. A smirk planted on his lips as your stares connected and he shook his head fondly. You panicked as his legs began to wander to you as he unwrapped his fists.

You turned to find salvation in your friends, but found the both of them halfway out of the door already, Azriel hot on their heels. The only remaining comfort of their presence was the wink that Rhysand sent your way as they left.

"Hi, beautiful."

What?

"Are you alright, honey?"

You were quite alright. He was blocking out the sun with his body and the only thing you could see was his ridiculously sculpted torso in your immediate vision.

You blinked the shock out of your eyes, finally allowing your head to move and look at him.

"I'm, uh, I'm okay, Cassie. You good?" Nice one.

"I'm okay," He laughed, "I just can't help but notice how distracted you are this morning."

Gods, he was so sexy.

"Distracted? Me?" You giggled nervously, "Not a clue what you mean."

"No?" His hand reached to brush the hair away that had fallen in front of your face, his scent filling every air pocket around you as he leaned closer. Your legs had never clenched harder.

"Azriel's shadows couldn't help but report to him how absentminded you've been recently. It made him quite concerned." HIs brows had pulled together, but you saw the teasing look he was sparing you.

"That's just Az being a busybody. Guess he's got nothing to do."

He hummed.

He reached even further behind you, as if that were possible, and pulled back with his own water in hand. You knew he could hear the beating of your heart, the blood pumping around your body as if you'd run to Spring and back. The bastard was doing it on purpose.

"I'm sure. Although, I have been thinking..."

"Don't hurt yourself."

"I've been thinking," He scoffed, "That you can't seem to think straight lately. Actually, I did think that until I spoke to Mor, and she said you've never been more at the top of your game."

Fuck.

"...So, why is it that when you're with me, you're so ruffled?"

You didn't know what to say. You didn't know what to do. You'd been caught. Three hundred years of keeping this secret, and you'd fucked it up. This could very well be the end of your friendship with Cassian. He'd grow distant and he'd avoid you, not wanting to give you the wrong impression that you could ever be anything more. You'd have to move out, not able to face the humiliation of such a harsh rejection. You'd lose your life. You'd lose your family.

"There you go again. Disappearing." His hand came up to rest on your cheek, thumb grazing delicately along the blazing skin. His eyes seemed understanding, but you couldn't help imagining your worst fear coming to life.

"You shouldn't flatter yourself, Cassian. It's unbecoming."

"I've been flattering myself for centuries, my love; trying to convince myself that a bastard like me was good enough for a female like you."

You froze. Your eyes didn't stray from his. Was this really happening?

"Tell me to walk away. Tell me to step back and we'll never speak of this again." His face had nudged toward yours ever so slightly, a silent question hanging in the air.

"I can't," You panted, "Please don't."

The General didn't need another push. Your drinks clattered to the floor as his lips collided with yours in a fury, a long over-due cauldron finally boiling over. He was fast and forward, hands gliding from your face down your body and around your waist, grabbing everything they could. Your own hands gripped onto his arms desperately, doing anything to stop yourself from toppling over.

This was everything you'd ever dreamed of. No, it was better.

This was better than the scandalous books you'd read secretly in the library, imagining it was Cassian with his face between your thighs, rather than the hero. This was better than the nights you lay awake with nothing to do but stare at your ceiling as you fantasised about his eyes and his mouth and his hands. And it was only a kiss.

"Cassie," You murmured against his lips.

"Yeah?" He didn't relent.

"Take me to your room."

He pulled back, a wickedness in his features that sent ripples along your skin.

“You better savour your ability to speak. Once I’m done with you, it’ll be long gone.”

“You better savour your ability to speak, because once I’m done with you, it’ll be long gone.”

“You better savour your ability to speak. Once I’m done with you, it’ll be long gone.”

"You better savour your ability to speak, because once I'm done with you, it'll be long gone."

[piningprecussionist]

"I hope you and your 2.4 children are very happy together."

This would have been posted sooner, but shading is my enemy... also I nearly forgot her bracelet... anyway, happy Roxie Day, everyone!

(Panel basis under the cut)

[actual-changeling]

no i am not done with the breakup scene yet. it haunts me during the day and it haunts my dreams, soon i will be able to replay it in my head on command. today's obsession: tell me you said no

firstly, i think it's important to point out just how deep the miscommunication runs here. aziraphale is excited, outright giddy about the news he is delivering, and he expects crowley to be just as happy about them.

after all, he thinks he is giving crowley what he has always wanted - they can go off together, he can be an angel again, which to zira equals being on the good side. the side of *light*. he remembers crowley's creation, remembers how in awe and happy he was with it, and thinks that is what he is offering.

aziraphale's expressions during this scene are probably gonna be their own post, but long story short he switches between excited and confused like a broken light switch, unable to decide which one to settle on.

crowley, well, crowley is angry. angry and confused and completely caught off guard because aziraphale is shaking the very foundation of what crowley currently thinks to be their relationship. the horror dawns on him pretty early, but he tries to fight it off, tries to convince himself that no, aziraphale wouldn't. he wouldn't agree to that, he KNOWS me. he knows i don't want to go back, he knows both sides are equally bad.

tell me you said no. tell me i wasn't wrong about you, about us. tell me i didn't misjudge our entire relationship. tell me the last millennia were worth something, anything.

tell me you said no.

if you rewatch the scene, you will notice that crowley never breaks eye contact, he stares aziraphale down the entire time. unless it was literally blink and you will miss it, i am pretty sure he does not even blink. not once. aziraphale on the other hand is looking everywhere but at him, his gaze flicks around just as much as his expression. crowley tries again, one last time. tells him you know they will both destroy this planet, humanity, us. it doesn't matter which side wins, the result will be the same. we KNOW that. we SAW that. we stopped it from happening.

aziraphale does not answer.

he does not have to. crowley can read him well enough to know exactly what he responded, and even if he couldn't - he knew from the beginning. he just cannot believe the answer. he still can't.

it's one of his fatal flaws, isn't it, believing in aziraphale and in them against every rule and threat the universe throws at them.

now to get to the part that breaks my heart.

crowley repeats himself again, not breaking eye contact while aziraphale tries to avoid his gaze.

tell me you said no.

he still hopes. after that entire conversation, he still hopes.

when the silence stays unbroken he steps towards him, asking one. last. time.

angel tell me you said no.

this. this frame. this is when the realization hits him full force, the truth he has been trying to talk and rationalize his way out of. he has been begging aziraphale to tell him that he did not betray him, them.

everything he has been fighting for the last six thousand years, all the thoughts telling him he is worth less than aziraphale because he fell, because he is a demon, evil, on the wrong side. everything he has been unlearning, accepting that he can be kind, he can be good. accepting that aziraphale cares about him, fuck, maybe even loves him.

crowley thought aziraphale is the one being that sees him, truly sees him, which is why he offers himself without his glasses - his last layer of protection.

he betrayed us. he has never been with me, we have never been on our side, not when he chooses heaven over the fragile, peaceful existence they have carved out for themselves. he took care of the bookshop, allowed zira to take his bentley, cleaned up and tidied and prepared it for his return, for the both of them. just to get all of it thrown into his face, to have it degraded as not good enough. to have HIMSELF degraded as not good enough.

and after all that. after that realization, the pain, the break in what he thought was their reality.

after aziraphale telling him that he plans on leaving earth and wants crowley to be someone he is.

crowley swallows his tears and he steps back, keeps his glasses off and continues with his confession anyway. his voice breaks several times throughout it, he is on the verge of crying. i will probably make a separate post about all that but once again, tldr he suppresses tears throughout his entire speech.

i want to spend eternity with you and he cannot say it because he knows he would break on eternity and start crying. somehow, crowley still hopes that maybe this will change his mind, this will make him realize that he needs to stay here, stay with me.

crowley hopes and hopes and hopes and aziraphale finally meets his gaze and all he responds is nothing lasts forever.

no, i don't suppose it does.

still, what is left but to keep hoping that maybe one day, they will be an us, even if it isn't forever. even if it's just one day, one kiss, one second of being held and kissed back.

crowley keeps hoping and that, to me, is the most painful part of it all.