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pikahlua · 6 months

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MHA Chapter 406 spoilers translations

This week’s initial tentative super rough/literal translations under the cut.

1 セントラル病院前鎮圧完了！セントラルびょういんまえちんあつかん��ょう！ SENTORARU byouin mae chin'atsu kanryou! "Suppression in front of Central Hospital complete!"

tagline 1 各地の奮戦が希望をつなぐ‼︎ かくちのふんせんがきぼうをつなぐ‼︎ kakuchi no funsen ga kibou wo tsunagu!! The struggles of various places connect hope!!

2 怪我人のトリアージと逮捕者の移送中！けがにんのトリアージとたいほしゃのいそうちゅう！ keganin no TORIAAJI to taihosha no isouchuu! "Triage of the injured and transport of the arrested in progress!"

3 奥渡島制圧完了‼︎ オクトじませいあつかんりょう‼︎ OKUTO-jima seiatsu kanryou!! "Suppression at Octo Island complete!"

tagline 2 No.406　摑め‼︎おまえの"個性"　堀越耕平ナンバー406　つかめ‼︎おまえの"こせい"　ほりこしこうへい NANBAA 406 tsukame!! omae no "kosei" Horikoshi Kouhei No. 406 Grasp*!! Your quirk Kouhei Horikoshi (*Note: This "grasp" can mean both to literally hold something and to comprehend/wrap one's head around something.)

4 分断作戦決起点制圧完了！ぶんだんさくせんけっきてんせいあつかんりょう！ bundan sakusen kekkiten seiatsu kanryou! "Suppression of the division strategy's starting point complete!"

5 怪我人の救出継続中！けがにんのきゅうしゅつけいぞくちゅう！ keganin no kyuushutsu keizokuchuu! "Continued rescue of injured persons in progress!"

6 国立多古場競技場継戦中‼︎ こくりつたこばきょうぎじょうけいせんちゅう‼︎ kokuritsu takoba kyougijou keisenchuu!! "National Takoba Arena continued battle in progress!!"

1 Mr.スケプティック確保！移送中です‼︎ ミスタースケプティックかくほ！いそうちゅうです‼︎ MISUTAA SUKEPUTIKKU kakuho! isouchuu desu!! "Mr. Skeptic secured! His transfer is in progress!!"

2 避難システムによる士傑への避難完了！ひなんシステムによるしけつへのひなんかんりょう！ hinan SHISUTEMU ni yoru shiketsu e no hinan kanryou! "Evacuation to Shiketsu by way of evacuation system complete!"

3 停止したブロックの避難民保護に出動中！ていししたブロックのひなんみんほごにしゅつどうちゅう！ teishi shita BUROKKU no hinanmin hogo ni shutsudouchuu! "Dispatch to protect the evacuees of the stopped blocks in progress!"

4 蛇腔病院跡地制圧完了！じゃくうびょういんあとちせいあつかんりょう！ jakuu byouin atochi seiatsu kanryou! "Suppression of the ruins at Jakuu Hospital complete!"

5 黒霧！イレーザーヘッドとプレゼントマイクと共に消息不明！くろぎり！イレーザーヘッドとプレゼントマイクとともにしょうそくふめい！ Kurogiri! IREEZAA HEDDO to PURESENTO MAIKU to tomo ni shousoku fumei! "Kurogiri! And Eraser Head and Present Mic with him, whereabouts unknown!"

6 この総力戦は最終的にこのそうりょくせんはさいしゅうてきに kono souryokusen wa saishuuteki ni This all-out war will eventually

7 緑谷出久を信じる戦いになるみどりやいずくをしんじるたたかいになる Midoriya Izuku wo shinjiru tatakai ni naru become a battle of believing in Izuku Midoriya. (Note: As per what I wrote in chapter 379, I would probably contextually read lines 6-7 as something like “This all-out war will come down to us trusting in Izuku Midoriya.”)

8 緑谷… みどりや… Midoriya... Midoriya...

9 出久… いずく… Izuku... Izuku...

1 疾い…！はやい…！ hayai...! "[So] fast...!"

2 あいつは死の間際… あいつはしのまぎわ… aitsu wa shi no magiwa... "That guy was on the verge of death..."

3 瞬間ではあったが… しゅんかんではあったが… shunkan de wa atta ga... "It was [for just] a moment, but..."

4 死柄木すら翻弄する動きを見せた… しがらきすらほんろうするうごきをみせた… Shigaraki sura honrou suru ugoki wo miseta... "He showed movement that made sport of even Shigaraki..."

1-2 あいつは何かを摑みかけている途中だった…！あいつはなにかをつかみかけているとちゅうだった…！ aitsu wa nani ka wo tsukami kakate iru tochuu datta...! "He was in the middle of grasping* something...!" (*Note: Again, this is that word that means "grasp" and "comprehend.")

3 この"副作用"を活かせこの"ふくさよう"をいかせ kono "fukusayou" wo ikase Take advantage of this "side effect"

4 もっと！ motto! more!

5 まだ！もっと‼︎ mada! motto!! Still! More!!

6-7 もういい… mou ii... "Enough..."

8 後にするあとにする ato ni suru "Leave him for later."

1 …いいさ ...ii sa "...It's fine."

2 壊すだけだ何度でも更にこわすだけだなんどでもさらに kowasu dake da nando demo sara ni "I'll just break him however many more times even further."

3 距離を取って"危機感知"で何とか凌いできたきょりをとって"4TH"でなんとかしのいできた kyori wo totte "4TH (kanji: kiki kanchi)" de nan toka shinoi dekita I started to somehow pull through by keeping my distance with the "4th (read as: Danger Sense)."

4 再生＋即死持ち＋前より強化されている肉体にどう対処するか…答えは見つからなかった… さいせい＋そくしもち＋まえよりきょうかされているにくたいにどうたいしょするか…こたえはみつからなかった… saisei + sokushi mochi + mae yori kyouka sarete iru nikutai ni dou taisho suru ka...kotae wa mitsukaranakatta... As for how to deal with his regeneration + instant death[-inflicting ability] + his body strengthened more than it was before...I couldn't find an answer...

5 "変速"は発動したら最後…発動時間に関わらず切った途端反動で体が動かなくなる "2ND"ははつどうしたらさいご…はつどうじかんにかかわらずきったとたんはんどうでからだがうごかなくなる "2ND (kanji: hensoku)" wa hatsudou shitara saigo...hatsudou jikan ni kakawarazu kitta totan handou de karada ga ugokanaku naru If I activate the "2nd (read as: Gear Shift)," it'll be the last time... Regardless of the time for which it's activated, as soon as it's turned off, my body will stop moving due to the immediate recoil.

6 発動した以上は… はつどうしたいじょうは… hatsudou shita ijou wa... Now that I've activated it...

7 今度こそ最後ーーー… こんどこそさいごーーー… kondo koso saigo---... "This time is the last---..."

1 更にさらに sara ni Go

1 向こうへむこうへ mukou e beyond

1 まだ mada "Am I still"

small text 更に向こうへってかさらにむこうへってか sara ni mukou e tte ka "[They] say 'Go beyond,' right?"

2 モブか…！ MOBU ka...! "an extra...?!"

3 エンデヴァーや"黒影"程の圧力も無いエンデヴァーや"ダークシャドウ"ほどのあつりょくもない ENDEVAA ya "DAAKU SHADOU" hodo no atsuryoku mo nai It's not as much pressure as with those like Endeavor and Dark Shadow.

4 後にすればいいあとにすればいい ato ni sureba ii It's fine to leave him for later.

5 オールマイトと比ぶべくもないオールマイトとくらぶべくもない OORU MAITO to kurabu beku mo nai He can't compare to All Might.

6 これ以上　巻き戻しを進行させてまで係う程の価値もこれいじょう　まきもどしをしんこうさせてまでかかずらうほどのかちも kore ijou makimodoshi wo shinkou sasete made kakazurau hodo no kachi mo To let the rewind proceed more than this, there's no value

7 意味もいみも imi mo nor meaning

8 縁もえにしも nor connection* (*Note: This is the same word All Might uses in chapter 396 to refer to a connection between him and Dave in the USA; it's a word that refers to some mysterious force such as destiny that binds two people together.)

9-10 あの石塊にはないあのいしころにはない ano ishikoro ni wa nai!! in it with that pebble!!

(Note: For speech bubbles 6-10, you could combine them all together into something more cohesive like this: "There's no value or meaning or connection with that pebble to merit letting him rewind me any more than this!!" And yes, Katsuki is the "pebble," which is a reference back to chapter 7 when Katsuki called Izuku a "pebble in his path.")

1 わかってきた wakatte kita I've come to understand.

2 痛みだいたみだ itami da It's pain.

3 掌に溜めた汗粒がてのひらにためたあせつぶが tenohira ni tameta asetsubu ga [The pain of] the beads of sweat that collected on my palms

4 全身を駆け巡ぐる痛みぜんしんをかけめぐるいたみ zenshin wo kakemeguru itami running through my entire body,

5 吹き出る痛みふきでるいたみ fukideru itami pain that spouts* out, (Note: This word to describe the pain can mean: "gush out, spout out, spurt out" but it can also mean "send out shoots" like for plant roots. I feel like that description is relevant given the imagery we see on this page. Considering the next line, I think he's referring to pain that erupts from different individual points on his body.)

6-7 その位置間隔！そのいちかんかく！ sono ichi kankaku! and the space between those positions! (Note: He's talking about recognizing the physical space between the different points of pain on his body.)

8 痛みで摑めいたみでつかめ itami de tsukame Grasp* it with pain, (Note: Again, this is that word that means "grasp" in the sense of "comprehend.")

9 誘爆のタイミング！ゆうばくのタイミング！ yuubaku no TAIMINGU! the timing of the secondary explosions! (Note: I think he's saying he can predict when and where the little explosions that surround his body will happen by paying attention to the locations of the pains on his body and thus he can utilize those explosions too.)

1 何なんだなんなんだ nan nanda What is this?

2 痛ったァハハハ疾っいったァハハハはやっ ittaAHAHAHA haya "It hurts-A-HAHAHA so fast!" (Note: Yes, he's breaking into maniacal laughter at the end of his words. Also a fun phonetic bonus: the Japanese word for "so fast" here is "haya," so he's saying "hahaha-haya!" He sounds battle-crazy, or just plain crazy.)

3 すぎて止まんねえ〜〜〜‼︎ すぎてやまんねえ〜〜〜‼︎ sugite yamannee~~~!! "Too fast, can't sto~o~o~p!!"

4 何なんだこいつはなんなんだこいつは nan nanda koitsu wa What's with this guy?

1 なぁ　出久　俺まだおまえに追いつけるかななぁ　いずく　おれまだおまえにおいつけるかな naa Izuku ore mada omai ni oitsukeru ka na Hey, Izuku, can I still catch up to you?

2 なんでだろうなあ nande darou naa I wonder why?

3 なんか今追い越せる気がするなんかいまおいこせるきがする nanka ima oikoseru ki ga suru I feel like I can surpass [you] now.

4 あんた… anta... "Honey..."

5 勝己が…！かつきが…！ Katsuki ga...! "Katsuki is...!"

6 ダメだ…見れないよ…‼︎だって相手は… ダメだ…みれないよ…‼︎だってあいては… DAME da...mirenai yo...!! datte aite wa... "No...I can't watch...!! Because his opponent is..."

7 見なきゃ… みなきゃ… minakya... "We have to watch..."

8 だって…！ datte...! "because...!"

1 だってあの子きっとだってあのこきっと datte ano ko kitto "Because that child is surely"

2 いつもみたいに笑ってる筈だから…！いつもみたいにわらってるはずだから…！ itsumo mitai ni waratteru hazu dakara...! "smiling like he always does...!"

3 さっきから…！何故この石塊にさっきから…！なぜこのいしころに sakki kara...! naze kono ishikoro ni Since a while ago...! Why is this pebble...?

4 何故僕はオールマイト以上のなぜぼくはオールマイトいじょうの naze boku wa OORU MAITO ijou no Why am I...even more than with All Might...? (Note: The verb at the end of the sentence is cut off here making this sound awkward in English. He's basically wondering how Katsuki is irritating him even more than All Might did.)

1 そうだ… 似ているそうだ… にている sou da...nite iru That's it...he resembles [that guy].

2 与一ならもういないぞ魔王… よいちならもういないぞまおう… Yoichi nara mou inai zo maou... If it's Yoichi [you're looking for], he's already gone, Demon King...

3 おまえが殺したんだおまえがころしたんだ omae ga koroshitanda Because you killed him.

4 憎しみを宿した事で鮮明に蘇る… にくしみをやどしたことでせんめいによみがえる… nikushimi wo yadoshita koto de senmei ni yomigaeru... By harboring hatred, I recall it clearly...

5 そうだ　こいつだ…こいつだったのだ sou da koitsu da...koitsu datta no da That's it, it's this guy... It was this guy.

1-3 こいつが手を差し伸べなければこいつがてをさしのべなければ koitsu ga te wo sashinobenakereba If this guy hadn't reached out his hand...

4-5 僕が最も憎いのはぼくがもっともにくいのは boku ga motto mo nikui no wa What I hate most of all is...

1 おまえのせいだ駆藤‼︎ おまえのせいだくどう‼︎ omae no sei da Kudou!! "It's because of you, Kudou!!" (Note: Because of the order of words in Japanese, you can also read this like the end to the last sentence on the previous page: "What I hate most of all is YOU [Kudou].")

2 ボケが来たかよ‼︎ ボケがきたかよ‼︎ BOKE ga kita ka yo!! "So an old geezer is here!!" (Note: This is the same grammar as All Might's "I am here!")

3 俺ァ爆豪のかっちゃんだバァアカ！おれァばくごうのかっちゃんだバァアカ！ oreA Bakugou no Kacchan da BAAAKA! "I'm Kacchan of the Bakugou clan*, moron!" (*Note: "Bakugou no Kacchan" literally means "Kacchan of Bakugou/Kacchan of the Bakugous," but the grammar is an archaic style from before Japan's family registration system created family names in the late 1800's. The structure would read as "[Name] of the [clan name]." The literal word "clan" does not appear in the sentence above, but I've included it to get the archaic style to make sense in English. I should also mention that it's possible Katsuki is introducing himself here as "Kacchan" as an insult to AFO's intelligence. Like, "Oh you're a little kid/senile old man? My real name's probably too difficult for you. Here, call me Kacchan, dumbass.")

tagline 今、世界が少年を見る‼︎ いま、せかいがしょうねんをみる‼︎ ima, sekai ga shounen wo miru!! Now, the world sees the young man!!

#my hero academia leak translations #mha 406 #bnha 406 #my hero academia manga spoilers #final arc spoilers #kacchan of the bakugous #that one anime trope where the hero goes mad with power or something and goes so off the rails the villain freaks the fuck out #there are a LOT of notes this chapter too

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freyadragonlord · 15 days

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One of my favourite things about the end of The S-Classes That I Raised novel (major spoilers ahead),

is the realisation that the reason why Yoojin and Hyunjae's relationship looks so much like a love story at times is because it actually, honestly is.

Like, we know that sctir is a novel about love since the beginning, that's not surprising. Yoojin's capability for loving monsters (both literal monsters and the human kind) and the power of that love is at the centre of the plot.

But by the time you get to the end, you realise - and the author confirms this themselves in their final Note - that Yoojin's relationship and love for 2 specific people was the true core of the story, and what allows him to save the world in the end:

One is, of course, Yoohyun.

And that love is absolute; you cannot say that it's inevitable, cause we know Yoojin had to make a choice when he was a child between Yoohyun and his parents, and he almost chose his parents, but from the moment he decided to love Yoohyun onward, then it was unconditional and eternal. It's the love of a brother, but also the love of a parent and a caretaker.

And the other person is Sung Hyunjae.

And that love is not unconditional nor inevitable or absolute at all. It's not something that can be taken for granted. We actually see, because of how it ended between them before the regression, and thanks to the White Bird's power of seeing possible futures, that there were so many timelines where Yoojin and Hyunjae would have never come to care about each other fully (tho they are always at least somewhat interested in each other, because their personalities are actually really compatible).

But the White Bird also sees that the only possible future where the world is saved is the one where they love and hold on to each other. And that is how the story goes!

So, just like a romance novel, the necessary end is the one where they both love each other and accept that love. And it's not easy to get there! It's a slow burn.

From meeting to getting to know each other, appreciating each other's skills and intelligence, finding out they have fun together but still not trusting each other, to working on building that trust.

They go from a strong but superficial mutual interest to actually caring about each other as people.

Yoojin has to go through the self-doubt of feeling inferior and fearing that Hyunjae will lose interest in him. Hyunjae has to learn to stop pushing Yoojin away because he doesn't know how to handle having someone he cares about so much, and also someone that cares about him, because nobody in the world (except in part Song Taewon) likes Sung Hyunjae as a person, he is only ever admired from afar.

And in the end, after going through ups and downs and a few "break-up arcs", they make it. They accept their own feelings and each other's feelings.

And that's when Yoojin makes the choice to use the power that the transcendents gave him at the very beginning of the novel, to save Hyunjae. Not the world. Not even Yoohyun! Just Sung Hyunjae!

Yeah, the whole "gather 50 S-Class people", the very thing that gives the novel its title. That is not a power that is used to save the world!! It was meant to, but Yoojin is "selfish", and he will always choose to save the people close to him first.

And being able to love someone so selfishly gives Yoojin the power to save the whole world, too. As a bonus! A reward. Just a side effect.

So yeah. Is it romantic love? No. Canonically, there's almost no romantic love in the whole novel.

But is it a love story?? Yeah. Absolutely it is.

#these are my midnight thoughts #have a lot of feelings for them #870 chapters of “why do they have so many romance tropes lmao”#to realise that it is 100% the whole point of the story #reading the side story now #happy to report hyunjae continues to be hopelessly and shamelessly in love #sctir #sctir spoilers #the s classes that i raised #s classes that i raised #s classes that i raised spoilers #the s ranks that i raised #my s class hunters #jinjae #han yoojin #sung hyunjae

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joyfuladorable · 8 months

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Ch. 5 & 6 of Dragon of the Sun by @forestwhisper3

(<Ch.1-4)

He felt like this past day had helped him learn a lot about Usagi. Things had relaxed between them, and their interactions, while they had never not been friendly, felt more comfortable- as if the unspoken barrier that kept that last bit of formality between them had finally been crossed, and he was...excited. Raph had Casey. Donnie had April and sort of shared Leatherhead with Mikey, who also had the Justice Force. They all were his friends too, yeah, but...it was nice to have a friend who was his first. Who preferred his company over the others. A best friend.

Forest said "time for Leosagi" and DELIVERED!!! This fic continues to diverge beautifully from canon, with Mikey's powers creating a butterfly effect and dropping Leo into his angst arc Early. Thank goodness his Best Friend helps guide him through it! UwU

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dazaistabletop · 10 months

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I wonder if Crime is the evil Fyodor and Punishment is the terrified Fyodor

Crime Punishment

#split personalities trope my beloved #kidding fyodor get in the psych ward get in there #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd manga #bsd spoiler #bsd spoilers #bsd fyodor #fyodor bsd #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #bsd dostoevsky #dostoevksy #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bsd chapter 108 #bsd theories

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harmonictechnicality · 1 year

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Memory Log: Day 52

part 1 here | part 2 here | part 3 here | part 5 here | part 6 here (ao3 link here)

After seeing his ink-smeared biography all over Eddie Munson’s arm, Steve becomes extremely motivated. Obsessed, even.

He assembles a makeshift army. Eddie’s Memory Soldiers, he calls it. Okay - he doesn’t call it that out loud, only to himself (because even Steve is self-aware enough to know how deranged this all sounds).

Steve compiles a ragtag group of Eddie’s friends to nudge his brain along faster. Band mates, theater dweebs, potheads that can carry a tune. All of them bring mixtapes on their visits. After two weekends, there’s already a fuckload of thrashy melodies for Eddie to choose from.

He lets them take the reins on this music-healing plan because there’s no fucking way Steve will be helpful in that department. It means less visits that include his presence, which sort of sucks, but it’s worth it. Worth it to get Eddie back to where he used to be.

Before Steve heads out for one of his morning visits, Robin interrogates him. Asks him the question he’s been ignoring for weeks.

“Steve… not to sound harsh, but why do you care so much?”

Yeah. Why does he care so much?

She quickly follows it up with, “I just didn’t know you two were friends now. So I’m just curious, I guess.”

They’re not friends. They’re lukewarm tolerators - tethered together by monster hunting and Dustin Henderson.

They’ve flirted, sure. But who doesn’t? Steve would flirt with half of the leggy cartoon characters that appear on Saturday Mornings if he could. So that’s a weak argument to assume they’re more than just friends. Tolerators. Whatever.

So he lies. To Robin. To himself. Lies so much that it sits in his stomach like motion sickness.

He answers the exact same way he’s been answering since day one:

“I’m just doing this for the kids, Robs.”

He’s pretty sure neither of them are buying that statement. He tries again. Stamps the words onto his confused brain. Considers writing them on his arm just like Eddie might do.

“I’m doing it for them.”

Eddie is always on his Walkman (Steve’s Walkman) now that he has skyscraper of cassettes on his desk. Pretty much every time Steve returns, Eddie is head banging. Won’t stop until the nurses scold him.

Or Steve. He’ll stop if Steve scolds him too.

“You can’t keep jostling up your brain, Munson.” Steve whips the headphones off of Eddie’s ears. “Gonna undo all of our hard work.”

“Our hard work?” Eddie attempts to grab the headphones back. Gives up as soon as their hands make contact. “And who might be included in this our that you speak of?”

“You know…” Me. “The doctors and nurses and your friends.”

“Right.”

This is how things have been going lately. Eddie teases him mercilessly and Steve bats it all away. Doesn’t encourage it for a second.

Which blows so hard because he wants to flirt back. Steve wants to know what Eddie feels like beyond tubes and bandages and hospital gowns. He wants way too much after watching Eddie fall asleep smiling that night. After finding out that Eddie scams his own mind into remembering Steve in technicolor details every day.

But it feels wrong. Deep down, there’s this part of Steve that worries that Eddie only likes the scribbled notes, the good qualities of himself. The non-prickster qualities.

He doesn’t scribble the bad qualities on his arm. Eddie lets himself forget about those every night.

So it seems wrong. Unfair to let Eddie only remember the good parts of him and take advantage of his weak mind.

Life was a fucking breeze before Steve cared about not taking advantage of people. Shit, he used the world’s biggest advantage-taker before all of this evil wizard nonsense.

“Quiz me, Harrington.” Eddie insists.

So Steve does. Steve goes down the list of questions. Things that Eddie’s memory typically hesitates to recognize.

Music helps Eddie remember his childhood memories the best.

That’s the biggest discovery they’ve made over the last fourteen days. Tapes that include songs from the early to mid 70’s have the biggest mental impact on his memory skills. Every day, he recalls more moments from his past.

Winter birthday parties. Recess and tire swings. Nineteen chickenpox. A pet hamster named Sterling.

“Can’t believe Wayne trusted you with a living creature.” Steve sneers.

“Never said he did.”

He always gets fuzzy with stuff from the late 70s though. And the early 80s is just a jumbled-up shit show. That’s when Eddie really starts failing his quiz.

“What year did you get the tattoo on your chest?”

“You mean this one?” Eddie pulls down the wrinkly hospital gown, exposing way too much of his collarbone. “Or this one?” He pulls the fabric down even further.

They must’ve finally turned the heat on in this place. Or maybe Steve’s sweater is just extra itchy, scratching his skin all splotchy red. He rubs furiously at the collar, spreads the flush all over by accident.

His eyes dart up to the fluorescent lights. Away from Eddie’s chest. “Um… the… creepy guy.”

“You’ll sprain your neck looking up like that.”

“Good thing I’m in a hospital then.”

“Okay - seriously, what’s up with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Sure.” Eddie snorts. His heart monitor beeps faster. Steve hates that laughing must be a bit painful for him. “And he’s not some creepy guy. He’s a creepy demon. Please respect the body art and get your facts right.”

“Fine.”

Not flirting back makes Steve feel like he could break out into hives. He has a fucking stockpile of pickup lines. He hoards provocative catchphrases like a horny pack rat. Talking is becoming increasingly difficult when he can’t banter back the way he wants to.

“Don’t remember what year I got it.” Eddie admits. “Sorry.”

Steve pulls his focus away from the ceiling and scribbles that down:

Eddie still can’t remember when he got his tattoos.

“Gee mister,” Eddie imitates a very masculine Shirley Temple voice. “Am I failing the pop quiz already?”

Eddie remembers who Shirley Temple is (weird, but okay).

Eddie does a really shitty impression of Shirley Temple.

Steve just keeps writing. Not even writing words anymore, just moving the pen to stay focused. Stay distracted from flirting.

The energy starts to feel swampy and stiff as he continues to give short responses with lifeless enthusiasm. Steve can tell that Eddie is picking up on the weirdness too.

He’s so fidgety. Drumming his fingers, twisting the one ring he’s allowed to wear on one of his less busted fingers. Bobbing his knees and kicking off his blankets.

Eventually, Eddie puts his (Steve’s) headphones back on and closes his eyes. A nonverbal surrender. A borrowed Walkman instead of a white flag. Why does it feel so shitty to see that he is just as defeated as Steve?

Once Eddie is asleep, Steve peaks over at his arms.

The notes are still there. Fading, but there.

It shouldn’t jab him in the heart the way that it does every time he checks, but christ. It’s so fucked up.

Slowly but surely, Eddie is gaining pieces of his past, but never his present. Why the fuck is that? Steve is so selfishly pissed about that because he’s a main role in Eddie’s present life.

He’s the one that’s here most days. He’s the one that listens to Eddie’s rants and incessant complaints. He’s the one that calls the nurses when Eddie is too prideful to admit when he’s in pain.

Steve should be remembered without smudgey reminders and foggy recollections.

Steve should be un-fucking-forgettable.

After an unhealthy amount of moping, he comes up with an idea. Well, Dustin comes up with an idea, actually. Steve bribed him with nougat and R-rated movie rentals to construct a gameplan.

“And you need Eddie to remember your favorite sweater…why?” Dustin’s mouth is full of chewy candy as he asks.

Steve chucks a raisinette at his dumb hat. “I thought we agreed this was a no questions asked request.”

“You suggested that.” Dustin points at Steve. “I never agreed to it though.”

This is the part Steve despises. If he admits it to others, he has to admit it to himself. And while he’s come a long way since that first day with Eddie, he’s not there yet. His pride can only take so much vulnerability before it fractures completely. “Just… I’m testing a theory I have on his newest memories.”

“Right. And what theory would that be?”

That he thinks about me in kissable ways. “That he remembers more than he gives himself credit for.”

Dustin chugs back his soda and scrunches the can in his grasp. “Okay. Well, the mixtape theory is working decently well with older memories, right?

“Yeah. Definitely.”

“So maybe it can work with newer memories too.”

Steve is lost already. “Meaning?”

“Find songs that relate to you.” Dustin shrugs like duh. He must sense Steve’s hesitation, so he sputters back into his brainy explanation. “Think about it: you’re there all the time -”

“Not all the time, but -”

“Shut the hell up. You’re there all the time, so he must remember the essence of Steve Harrington.”

Steve fake gags. “Don’t say essence, that’s fucking gross.”

“Will you stop interrupting? Jesus christ.” Dustin yells, scrunching the soda can even more with his irritation. “Just make a mixtape with stuff that relates to you. Get his current memories to stick with lyrics and shit.”

Steve twists his mouth to one side. Then the other. “That’s…”

“Genius?”

“I was gonna say worth a shot, but sure.” Steve agrees. “We’ll go with your conceited analysis.”

Dustin finally picks up the raisinette from earlier. Throws it back at Steve. “You should be nicer to me. I possibly just solved your dilemma.”

“I should be nicer to you?” Steve tosses the raisinette into his mouth, despite its questionable duration on the floor. “Dude, you’re never nice to me.”

“Yeah, but it’s affectionate hostility.”

“And that makes it better?”

“Basically, yeah.”

“Fine.” Steve rolls eyes, offers a hand to Dustin. “Thank you for the hostile affection.”

Dustin accepts the handshake. He’s overly smug about it too. “You’re very welcome.”

Memory Log: Day 53

Right away, Steve determines it’s a Kathy Day. Eddie is a verbal nightmare already, whining about the dead batteries in his tv remote.

“I’ll get Sam to grab some batteries when her shift starts.” Steve reassures the bitchy entity possessing Eddie Munson’s body at the moment.

“Why don’t you just get the damn batteries?” Eddie bites back. “You have legs, don’t you?”

“You have eyes, don’t you? Of course, I have fucking legs.” Steve can play it this game. Doesn’t want to but he can be just as obnoxious if Eddie keeps going with his attitude. “Please don’t pull this Kathy shit today.”

That simultaneously shuts them both up for a while. Steve begins flipping through one of the outdated magazines on Eddie’s desk, avoiding the escalated atmosphere. At this rate, there’s no fucking way Steve is going to bring up his mixtape. Kathy/Eddie will probably smash it. Roll over it with the wheels on his imprisoning hospital bed.

Eddie clears his throat, speaking softer than he did at Steve’s arrival. “You know… you were sort of a Kathy yourself yesterday.”

Eddie remembers Steve’s weird mood from the day before (needs to check Eddie’s arm notes to make sure he didn’t write that down).

“Yeah well… I’m allowed to be the pissy one sometimes.” Steve doesn’t look up. He just keeps pretending to read the fossilized magazine in his hand.

“Whatever you say, Harrington.” There’s another pause. Just as awkward as the last one. Their dynamics today are clashing harder than their music styles. Eddie breaks through the awkwardness once again. “So… what’s on the brain agenda today?”

Eddie remembers their pop quizzes.

Right. The quiz. The quiz that Steve has no intention of administering today because he’s supposed to give Eddie this stupid mixtape.

And look, Steve is pretty good at avoiding shit - homework and phone calls and extended family members. He’s good at dodging shit too, like the relentless one-night stands that can never seem to take a goddamn hint.

But this situation is different because Steve would clearly like to avoid the potential weirdness of giving Eddie Munson a gift. However, he’s innately aware that this particular gift could be helpful. Maybe more to himself than to Eddie, but who knows? If Eddie gets his memory tank back on track and Steve gets someone that reciprocates his affections?

The payoff might be worth the weirdness.

“I actually wanted to contribute to your…” Steve gestures apathetically at the stack of tapes.

Eddie looks over at them and then back to Steve. “Oh you mean, Munsonopolis?”

“Boooo.” Steve heckles him immediately for that.

“You think of something better then.”

Steve thinks about this way too hard. “The Ed-pire State Building.”

“Boooo.” Eddie imitates Steve’s heckling.

“Better than yours.”

“Says who?”

“Says anyone with a sense of humor.”

“Brave of you to call that a sense of humor.”

“What can I say?” Steve clicks his mouth twice and does the most douchey finger-gun bit, blowing out the nonexistent smoke from each index finger. “I’m something else.”

Eddie bites down over his lip, hard enough that it goes white for a second. Doesn’t take his eyes off of Steve while he bares down.

“You sure are, Steve.”

Oh shit - did they just mindlessly segue onto Flirtation Boulevard without even trying? Is it really that natural with Eddie? Damnit, Steve needs to get his mind on the task at hand.

“Here.” He walks over, lays the tape on Eddie’s lap.

“Is this another one from Gareth?” Eddie flips the tape over, studies the back. “Cause I already assured him that I remember the concert we went to back in ‘84.”

Eddie remembers one of his closest friends.

“No, this one is actually…” Just fucking own up, Steve. “Well, I made it.”

Eddie’s eyes do that sequin thing again. Almost turn into disco balls. “You made me a mixtape?”

Ugh. “Don’t get too flattered, Munson.”

“Too late.”

Steve was afraid that might be the case. So he does his damndest to channel Dustin Henderson. Provide a scientific explanation to his crush-driven theory. “It’s just an extension of our little music experiment. Some stuff that will help you remember me.”

“And why exactly do you want me to remember you?” Eddie does the same lip biting thing from before. He bites harder, and the color stays white even longer this time.

Steve involuntarily glances down at Eddie’s arm, giving himself away.

“Oh.” Eddie stops biting his lip, swiftly lifts the blankets over his arms. Hiding what Steve already knows is there. “Look… that’s just -”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, really.”

Eddie looks down, nodding in agreement. “Right. But it’s not-”

“Eddie.” Steve places a firm hand on Eddie’s shoulder because he can’t. He can’t listen to whatever Eddie is about to confirm or deny. “It’s okay. I mean it.”

He’s not ready for it, for whatever barricade that’s between them to come crashing down. Steve didn’t bring the proper tools to shield himself from raw emotions or desperate declarations of true feelings. And from the way Eddie goes breathless and tense under Steve’s shoulder-grip, he doesn’t think Eddie has the proper tools for that either.

“So you uh…” Eddie peers down at Steve’s hand. Catches a glimpse then abruptly looks away again. “Do you want me to listen now or…”

God no. Steve releases his grip at that thought. “Wait till I leave.”

“Got it.”

The rest of the visit goes both fairly smoothly. There are only a few lingering particles of awkward tension left behind. It doesn’t bother Steve, not necessarily. The whole day has been kind of all over the place, just like Eddie’s Literary Behavioral Scale. So this uneasy atmosphere is to be expected.

They talk about movies while Steve packs up his things to leave. Eddie asks about all the new movies that have come out since he’s been in the hospital. Steve tells him to make a list of the ones he’s interested in seeing. Tells him that they’ll have a marathon at his place once they’re released to vhs. Eddie says he knows a guy that sells bootlegs before the vhs release date, but Steve shoots that idea down so fucking fast.

It’s not their usual banter, but that’s okay. At least they're talking. Getting along. Tolerating one another at a lukewarm temperature again.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?” Steve is met with the most anxiety-ridden face. Eddie’s whole forehead is covered in wrinkles, like that one fancy dog breed that his next-door neighbor used to have. There’s no shimmer in Eddie’s eyes, no disco balls. It’s all just dull. Fearful.

“Sorry if the arm thing made you...” Eddie trips over his words. He pinches the skin between his eyes, makes his even more forehead wrinkles. “I don’t know what’s the word I’m looking for.. Uncomfortable, I guess.”

“Don’t worry. It didn’t.” It made Steve a lot of other things: gutted, determined, confused, sulky, smitten. But no. Worried did not make Steve’s grocery list of Feelings.

“Don’t forget to tell Sam about the batteries on your way out.”

Eddie remembers bitching about the batteries.

Yeah, Steve’s memory isn’t the faulty one here. Even so, Steve reassures him:

“I won’t forget, Eds.”

Day 56:

Wayne had a couple days off from work and took over Steve’s Wednesday and Thursday shifts in the hospital. It’s probably for the best - especially since Steve decided to do the most high school shit ever, and gift Eddie a fucking bouquet in the form of radio hits and plastic.

He’s breaking out from the stress, just marinating on what Eddie’s thoughts might be of the mixtape. It can’t be good. None of the songs are his typical riffs of eternal damnation or whatever. But it certainly sounds like Steve Harrington in a Speaker. So it better help him picture Steve dressed in the tackiest, most burnable sweaters imaginable, goddamnit.

But like, why is he breaking out from thinking about Eddie Munson? Absurd. All of it. The feelings and the acne. His weird little crush is making him regress into adolescent woes and it’s pissing him off.

After popping the zit and crossing his fingers that it’s not outrageously noticeable, Steve sucks in a deep breath, and heads into Eddie’s hospital room.

“There’s my favorite Material Girl.” Eddie lowers the headphones, smiles bonus-level wide.

Steve’s gulps. His face feels like a fucking toaster. “I take it you listened to the tape?”

“I didn’t just listen to the tape.” Eddie picks up the Walkman and smacks it against the side of his head. “I practically absorbed that bubblegum bullshit. Think some of it is still stuck in my teeth.”

Steve plays along, hoping that his face will return to its usual complexion. “You should see a dentist about that.”

“With what insurance?”

“That’s fair.” Steve slides his hands into his jean pockets. He’s so rigid. “So?”

“So?”

“Final conclusion?”

“Oh, I hated it.” Eddie says bluntly. “In a very stick-that-syringe-in-my-neck kind of way.”

“Shocker.” Steve actually expected a meaner response than that.

“Why did you put so many songs on there that use Girl in the title?”

“Hey - it’s not my fault that all of the rich poster child songs are about women.” Steve gets defensive about that one. Honestly, it’s true. There needs to be more music about wealthy guys with genetically flawless hair. Somebody needs to get on that shit so Steve can have more songs that apply to him.

“Whatever you say, man.”

“So did it…” Steve is still standing. Hovering a bit. “Did it help?”

Eddie sticks out both of his arms, flipping to reveal his forearms to Steve.

They’re blank, besides the usual tattoos and contusions. They’re as blank as Eddie’s arms can be at the moment. No more Steve Cheat Sheet to be found.

Steve exhales all of his relief. “And you remember me?”

“Remembering you was never the problem, Steve.”

“It wasn’t?”

Eddie shakes his head. “But if I ever allowed myself to forget, I…” He taps rapidly over the Walkman. Steve’s Walkman. “I just didn’t wanna risk starting over.”

“Oh.”

“With you.”

The metaphorical arrow, the one Steve has alway seen on department store Valentines Day cards, goes straight through his chest. Eddie aims the words with you directly for Steve’s heart. Punctures that wall he built up after Nancy Wheeler.

The monitor connected to Eddie is beeping faster again. It’s not like that day Eddie was writhing in pain. No, it’s a different tempo.

It sounds like his nerves are conducting the pattern. He’s nervous. Steve is making him nervous.

Or Steve’s lack of response is making him nervous.

But how does Steve respond? Is this Eddie giving him permission to flirt back again? To keep driving down the detour of attraction, take the scenic route?

Eddie’s heart monitor is screaming, ‘say something, Steve.’

But Steve’s archive of failed relationships is screaming, back, ‘don’t fuck this up, dickhead.’

Steve tries to meet the two in the middle. Say something inviting yet keep it simple.

“So… do you wanna make fun of the shitty soap operas together?”

Steve puts a little emphasis on the together part, hoping it’ll tame the monitor. Make the tones evenly paced. He lets his hand tap once against Eddie’s arm. Right over his newly blank wrist. So clean. No more scribbles.

“I don’t know, I’ll have to check my schedule.” Eddie teases with his words, sure. But his hand lifts up. Tapping Steve back. Twice. “I’m a very busy man, you see.”

Steve shoves him away, laughing as he does it. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re not wrong.”

His monitor is ballad again.

One of Eddie’s (many) doctors walks into the room during their third hour of mocking the Home Shopping Network. Eddie has developed an elaborate backstory that they’re all cyborgs who are taking civilian money to grow their army of killer robots. Steve is surprisingly on board with this theory after the second hour. Some red headed lady twitches her eyes way too much to be human.

The doctor runs a few tests, looks over Eddie’s chart, the typical procedure. However, at the end of the visit, he decides to put Eddie on a new medication for his headaches.

Headaches…

Steve flips back to that first day he started visiting Eddie. Finds the note he passive-aggressively took back then:

Eddie has a headache (that’s not a memory thing - he’s just told Steve a thousand times now).

He fans through the other pages as well. At least two-thirds of them mention Eddie complaining about headaches. How did Steve miss this? How could he be so stupid? He was too busy fantasizing about Eddie’s chest tattoos and making shitty mixtapes, that he glossed over something so significant.

Dustin wouldn’t have missed this. Robin wouldn’t have missed this. Nancy definitely wouldn’t have missed this - hell, she would’ve already cracked the Case of the Missing Memories by now.

Steve is the wrong man for this job. Not enough brainpower to fix a broken brain.

“Uh oh.” Eddie says. “Where you’d go, Harrington?”

Steve glances up to see Eddie pointing his finger at Steve’s head. “Just.. thinking.”

“Share with the class, please.”

Steve struggles to make his voice sound causal about this. “I should’ve known about the headaches. Paid better attention.”

“Are you joking?” Eddie asks. “Because if you are, we need to work on your delivery.”

“Not joking, no.”

Eddie’s tone is mildly annoyed, still gentle though. “Stevie… that guy gets paid a shitload of money to figure out my problems. Truly - the reason there’s no pot of gold at the end of the rainbow is because it’s going straight into that guy’s pocket.”

Steve snorts. It’s even funnier to visualize because the doctor is kind of short.

“What I’m saying is, it’s his job to have a big brain.” Eddie’s eye contact is sharp. Broken bottle to his neck sharp. “And your job is to be my eye candy. Sit there and look cute while I try to not hack up my dinner.”

Steve’s hearing went crackly at all of the compliments. “Eye candy, huh?”

“Pretty much.”

Steve no longer has an excuse not to flirt back. Eddie has his mixtape; his arms are bare. He’s obviously encouraging it, even with the knowledge that Steve is a spoiled brat. He likes Steve, not just the good stuff. Eddie is still willing to pursue this even with Steve’s bad qualities.

So fuck it. Steve is gonna delve into his stockpile of pickup lines. He’s gonna rummage around his hoard of provocative catchprashes. Be the horny pack rat that he was born to be.

“Is the sitting part of my job description mandatory?” Steve leans forward, elbows resting on his knees.

“Oh, I’m very lenient on that detail.” Eddie’s voice drops lower. “The cute part… not so much.”

“So you’re only keeping me around for what? My great hair? My symmetrical bone structure? My biceps, maybe?”

“Definitely not your humility, that’s for damn sure.”

They share a smile as Steve gets up, inches closer to Eddie’s bed. He reaches out and pinches the sleeve of Eddie’s hospital gown between his fingers. He cautiously rubs it over a few times, waiting to see Eddie’s reaction to this droplet of affection.

Eddie catches Steve’s wrist with his other hand. Mirrors the rubbing motion Steve set in place with the material.

“Hey.”

Steve nudges Eddie lightly. “Is this okay?”

And before he can even get a response back, Eddie’s face starts turning grayish-green.

This happens. Eddie throws up biweekly, so it’s not a big deal at all. It’s just that Steve is usually not laying on the moves when Eddie is about to blow chunks. Honestly, it knocks Steve’s astronomical ego down a few notches.

He probably deserves it.

Eddie is really sick. He pukes three more times, and he starts running a fever after the second time. He’s all clammy and curled into a pillow, clutching it with shaky fingers.

It’s all side effects from the new medication apparently. Yeah, Eddie’s head is no longer splitting open, but his body is rejecting all of the cardboard hospital food.

Steve keeps an eye on him, not that he can do much about it. He gets a styrofoam cup of ice chips so Eddie can chew on it whenever his temperature spikes. He wipes the sweat off Eddie’s temples because one - it’s a nice gesture, and two - it gives him an excuse to be nearby.

The shivering is driving Steve crazy though. He’s so on edge just watching Eddie like this. Eddie keeps making jokes like ‘at least I’ll remember your stupid worried face in the morning’ or ‘damn, my past better be worth all of this.’ And Steve will chuckle halfheartedly each time.

The heart monitor is all jumpy now. Even, uneven, even, uneven. If Steve focuses on it for too long, it starts to sound like he’s driving by a highway collision. A pileup of beeps and tones.

He gets another cup of cafeteria coffee. Hopes the bitterness and chalky creamer will be enough to muffle his hearing. Steer his mind to an empty exit lane.

“What? No coffee for me?” Eddie is under an extra blanket now.

Steve scoots his chair even closer to Eddie’s bedside. “What’s the point? You’d just puke it all up.” He’s pretty lousy at supportive words, isn’t he?

“Aren’t visiting hours almost over?”

“You trying to get rid of me, Munson?”

“Never. Just figured you needed to catch the bus or whatever.”

Eddie remembers Steve taking the bus.

“Robin finally gave me my car back.” Steve conveniently leaves out how he demanded for it to be returned to him. “So, I’ll stay until they kick me out… if that’s cool with you.”

He places his non-coffee holding hand over top of Eddie’s open palm. It’s sort of instinctual. Doesn’t give his mind a moment to wonder if this is crossing a line.

Holding hands in a hospital doesn’t mean romance. It never has. People do it all time, no one bats an eye at them either. It’s just a gesture of helpless support. It’s what people do to signify, ‘I can’t heal you with medicine, but I can warm your under-circulated skin just a little.’

But when Eddie’s fingers curl around his own, Steve’s stomach swells like its romance. It swells with hot air, helium maybe. It swells and stays swollen. Stays thermal and full.

“Looks like I’m gonna have to pay my eye candy overtime.” Eddie’s face rushes all pinkish-red. Almost as if he’s trying to combat his blush with humor, but it’s not working. He’s all the colors now. And with or without them, he’s attractive.

“You don’t pay me at all.”

“You got me there.” Eddie shakes a frizzy curl in front of his cheek. A poor effort to hide his flushed face. “I’m a terrible employer.”

Steve traces the grooves of Eddie’s palm lines. Pretends that they form a railroad track. “The worst.”

Once his fever finally breaks, Eddie falls asleep. His body unfolds, his fingers uncurl. It’s a heavy sleep, one that makes him all languid and soft. Any traces of bones are questionable now.

And even though Steve is about to pass out from exhaustion, he doesn’t move his hand from Eddie’s. He’d rather give up his whole arm than move it.

Sam peaks in just before Steve nods off. She lets in the bright hallway light, not too much though. Not enough to wake Eddie. Honestly, not a lot of things wake Eddie up these days.

“Sorry.” Steve yawns. “I overstayed my welcome.”

She shrugs, checks the fluids in one of Eddie’s IV bags. “You know, you can stay the night, if you’d like.”

“Really?”

“It’s pretty late… you shouldn’t be driving on the highway at this time of night.”

“Won’t I…” Steve reworks the phrase. Tries to be less selfish about it. “Won’t you get in trouble for letting me stay?”

“Oh no.” She winks. “Because I never saw you here.”

Steve smirks. “Got it.”

“But if I did see you here,” She gestures her head to the door on her right. “I would tell you there’s extra pillows in the linen closet over there.”

Sam deserves a fucking raise. Steve would become a goddamn patron of this hospital just to give her more money. Let the godsend of a woman retire early for christ’s sake.

“Thanks, Sam.” Steve whispers.

“Thank you for keeping him company.” She whispers back. “He’s lucky to have someone like you.”

Steve doesn’t know if that’s true, if Eddie is lucky to have him, but he nods anyway. Gives a gentle wave as Sam heads back out of the room.

He sets the pillow next to Eddie’s leg, keeping their hands connected as he dozes off. Steve falls asleep the same way he used to fall asleep in class. All bent over in his chair, one cheek flattened out on the desk. It’s very reminiscent of that.

Only better because he’s with the guy that makes his chest swell, even when he’s being sarcastic or melodramatic. Even when he’s cobwebbed himself into a maze of cords. Even when he’s bitching about batteries and Steve’s vomit-inducing fashion sense.

Steve thinks maybe he likes the undesirable traits of Eddie Munson just as much as the desirable ones.

And once he’s knocked out entirely, the rhythm of his heart matches the beeping monitor hooked up to Eddie’s chest.

Day 57:

It’s been a long time since Steve has had a decent dream. And this dream he’s in right now? It’s fucking luxurious.

He’s at the hair salon, because of course he is - it’s his home away from home.

His head is reclining back in that giant sink thing. The one that’s like a soup bowl for hair or whatever. The stylist is shampooing his scalp, scrubbing all of those foamy products into his roots. This is Steve’s favorite part of getting his hair done, he always feels blissed out of his mind afterward.

They keep washing it for the whole dream, digging their nails into his head, dunking water over his hair every so often. It’s downright perfection. A dream he could stay stuck in forever.

The scenery of the dream flickers out, but the sensations linger as he gains consciousness. His squints both of his eyes open, immediately greeted by too much brightness, too much sunlight. Steve shuts them again, soaking up the remnants of his dream. The hair scratching that’s ongoing even though he’s awake.

Awake.

Steve is awake and can still feel all of that salon paradise. His brain finally wakes up enough to realize it isn’t a dream. It’s Eddie’s hands in his hair, combing it thoroughly.

Fuck, it feels so good too. Steve wonders if Eddie is aware of what he’s doing or if he’s also in that suspended place between awake and asleep.

It doesn’t matter, not really. It all feels way too incredible to care about the logistics. Steve nuzzles deeper into the pillow to hide the happy little hums that keep escaping through his mouth.

Eddie doesn’t stop. He keeps moving his hand around. Twirling strands and releasing them. Ruffling strands and smoothing them. Massaging the pads of his fingers in all the right places. Every bit of it is dreamy. Better than the dream Steve initially believed to be unbeatable.

Being Eddie’s own personal petting zoo is way better. Miles, light years better. Is there any form of measurement longer than lightyears? Because it’s bigger and better than that too.

Eddie tugs a little harder, just once, but once is all it takes to make Steve melt. He open-mouth sighs into the pillow, hoping the fabric mutes the neediness of it. There’s drool on the pillow and it’s unclear if it’s from when he was asleep or if it occurred just from that one hair tug.

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice still sounds coated in sleep. “Is this weird?”

Steve shakes his head no, still unable to lift his face from the pillow.

“Should I stop?”

Steve shakes his head much faster. Absolutely not. Stopping should be banished from Eddie’s vocabulary. The word ‘stop’ should be homeless as far as Steve is concerned.

Eddie tugs again, more firmly this time. The tug goes straight to Steve’s dick, which yikes. Humiliating. Yeah, it’s morning and this shit happens, but not this kind of boner. Not one brought on by hair salon fantasies and a metalhead with magical fingertips. This can’t be the reality of Steve’s life right now but somehow, it is.

“I think I combed through all of that cake-up hairspray.” Eddie talks as his hand continues to roam around Steve’s scalp. “Feels like cashmere now, so you’re welcome.”

Steve sighs again, pretty sure it’s much more audible this time because Eddie laughs.

“Embarrassing.” Steve mumbles. That’s all he can muster out without becoming a puddle of humiliation.

“The sounds you’re making?”

Steve nods.

“Oh that is not the adjective I would’ve gone with.” Eddie claws his fingers all the way down to Steve’s neck. “Not even close.”

Steve is all hormones now, all slurred speech and thoughtless words. “So good, Eddie.”

“Oh my god.” Eddie whines, sounds breathier than Steve. “You cannot say my name like that when I’m in a tissue-thin gown.”

Steve wants to sneak a peek, see if what Eddie is suggesting holds any truth. He resists, only because he’s trying to sort out his own tent-pitching problems at the moment.

He gradually lifts his head off of the pillow, back cracking as he straightens his spine out after hours of being shaped like fucking tetris piece. It’s the last thing he wants to do because it means Eddie has to take his hand out of Steve’s hair. But as Eddie pulls away, his knuckles brush against Steve’s ear, awakening this newfound urgency to not let this moment fizzle out.

Steve hops up onto the bed, sitting side-saddle next to Eddie. He looks through Eddie’s eyes, the ones that remind him of shimmery dresses and the backseat of his car on prom night. He looks through to find a reason to stop his actions. Stop his need to touch Eddie’s jawline or thumb over his lips. He’s searching for a reason to stop and finding none whatsoever.

“Do you remember me?”

“You’re Steve Harrington.” Eddie kind of stutters as he says it. “Hometown Slut extraordinaire.”

The nerdy bastard is never going to let that one go.

Steve gives a quiet laugh, leaning in to his impulses. He slides his thumb over Eddie’s bottom lip, curving around, mapping invisible outlines. A blueprint for his imagination when they’re apart later. “Am I reading this wrong?”

Eddie’s gaze is glued to Steve’s lips as he shakes his head no.

“Good.”

Steve uses his free hand to lift himself up, get closer. Breathing in the same stale oxygen, sucking up the same early morning courage, existing in the same dizzying climate.

He can feel Eddie exhale softly over his skin when there’s a knock at the door.

Steve has never stood up so fast in his damn life. Gets a head rush that’s so overwhelming that his vision speckles out momentarily.

It’s Sam. Thank god it’s only Sam. But also, screw god for interrupting what almost happened just now. Not cool, sky man.

“Just a heads up,” she starts, shutting the door behind her. “You have another visitor that just arrived.”

Right. It's the weekend.

Steve and Eddie say it in unison. “Dustin.”

Sam hums in reply. “I can stall him for a couple minutes. Give you time to sneak out the stairs that are tucked in the back hallway.”

“You’re the best.” Steve says. “I’ll be quick.”

She leaves, cracking the door on her way out.

Both of them just look at each other for a moment. There’s no time to even discuss the events that just took place. No time to recover the kiss that is already sneaking out the back hallway stairs.

Steve nervously whistles. “So…”

“I’ll see you Monday?”

“Monday.” 48 hours apart seems insane. “Yeah.”

Steve hurriedly makes his way to the door - refusing his horny impulses the opportunity to kick back in and ruin everything. “See you later, Eds.”

Eddie licks over his bottom lip - the one Steve mapped out with his thumbprint. “Later, sailor.”

Um. What?

Steve’s eyes go large. “What did you just call me?”

“Go.” Eddie flashes the wickedest grin. “We’ll talk all about your ocean of flavor on Monday.”

This can’t be happening. “Ocean of -”

“Get out of here already!”

Steve flings himself out of the room, sprinting down the hall. Does Eddie actually recall Steve working at Starcourt? How can that be possible? Steve doesn’t remember seeing Eddie outside of school ever.

Plus, they’ve never even talked about his job at Scoops Ahoy. Family Video? Sure, that’s more recent. But Scoops? Steve tries to forget just about everything from his time at that seaside shithole.

Goddamnit, this is confusing. The hair foreplay. The almost-kiss. The nautical nickname. Confusing is an understatement. Steve needs to go back to high school and learn a better word for what this is. Confusing isn’t cutting it anymore.

If Steve can make it till Monday without spiraling into a bucket of nerves, he deserves a fucking trophy.

And a kiss on the lips.

Mostly the second option (although a trophy would be nice too).

#🎶here comes some contenttttt🎶#steddie fic #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #sorrrrrrryyyyy these keep getting longer and longer #also - this is as close as I can get to a bed sharing trope in a hospital fic #and I hope this helps y'all feel better after the *last* chapter #and if I missed your tag pls reach out and tell me - I'm trying to keep up but my brain is a cluttered place to be in

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

Text

Chapter 2 to this post which can also be found on ao3 here

When Steve woke up, he groaned in pain.

His back was not designed to sleep on small couches that looked older than he was. His head was also not very pleased with his situation.

And that was before everything came crashing back to him.

He looked down at his wrapped wrist, eyebrows furrowed when he realized it didn’t hurt anymore.

How long was he asleep? How long was it supposed to hurt? Maybe the pain in his back and head was enough to distract from the pain of the tattoo he’d gotten.

Before he realized what was happening, frustrated tears were falling down his face, his lip curling as he tried to fight the emotions welling up inside him. He didn’t even know what emotions he was feeling, just that they were too much.

He heard someone shuffle into the room, but didn’t look up from where he was staring down at his wrist. He assumed it was Eddie, and he didn’t want Eddie to see him crying again.

There were hands on his cheeks, thumbs brushing away his tears as he pretended that he wasn’t actually crying.

Whatever was going on was kind of ruining his reputation, not that Eddie even knew him enough to know of his reputation.

“It’s alright, sunshine. Did you just wake up?”

“Yeah.”

His voice was broken and raspy, barely audible even after clearing his throat a couple of times.

“Sorry the couch isn’t very comfy. I didn’t expect you to completely fall asleep. Tell me what’s going on.”

“Just. I. I don’t know.”

Eddie searched his face. He was looking for something, and Steve kind of hoped he’d find it so he knew what the hell was going on.

“I think you’re dropping. It’s okay. I’ve got ya.”

And for some fucking reason, Steve believed him.

He fell forward into Eddie’s chest, letting Eddie wrap his arms around him and hold him close.

He listened to the calming beat of Eddie’s heart and felt the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed in and out.

He’d had panic attacks before. This wasn’t one of those.

He’d been so depressed he couldn’t get out of bed before. This wasn’t that.

He’d even been unable to stop crying before. This didn’t feel like that.

This felt like he was lost in a void and no one would ever find him. He’d have to crawl through this overwhelming darkness and silence on his own.

But he felt Eddie’s warmth. He felt his hands gripping the back of his head and back. He felt Eddie’s breath against his hair, every exhale making it move just enough to make him shiver.

Eddie was pulling him from the void, making it easier to feel and see his surroundings. He was able to hear Eddie singing softly to him, not a song he recognized, but one that was slow enough to keep him calm as he eased back to reality.

He didn’t want to move, but he knew he was feeling good enough to give Eddie space. He really didn’t want to though.

Not even a little bit.

As he pulled away, Eddie’s hands gripped tighter, keeping him against him.

“A bit longer, sunshine. You’ll be okay.”

He believed him.

Something about the way Eddie spoke made him feel like he could find his way out.

He relaxed against him, unclenched his fists and jaw in a way he probably hadn’t in years. He tried to copy the way Eddie was breathing, but he kept getting caught up in a wet sob.

“Focus on my voice, sunshine. You feel it against your ear? You hear what I’m saying?”

Steve nodded against his chest.

“Good. You’re doing so good, Stevie. Breathe in for me.” Steve did. “Out.” Steve did. “So good. Again. In. Out.”

Steve was breathing in and out as Eddie instructed him to. It was easy to have direction, to let Eddie guide him through something so simple.

Steve would feel awkward about it later. Alone in his room.

And he’d never see Eddie again and never explore what just happened and definitely never tell Robin.

Oh god. Robin.

She probably thought he was dead.

“How long?”

Eddie kept rubbing his back as he answered.

“Two hours. Not long. I was gonna wake you up soon anyways. I’m closed for the night.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

Eddie shushed him and pulled him even tighter against him.

“Nothing to be sorry for. Once I saw you were out, I met with my client and finished up closing stuff so I could get you out of here safely.”

“Oh.”

Steve still didn’t know what he was feeling. He knew he probably owed Eddie a lot for getting him out of it, but he was also banking on never having to see Eddie again or explain himself.

“Would Robin know what to do if you drop again?”

“I don’t even know what that means.”

He felt Eddie sigh. He tried not to take offense, but like, how was he supposed to take it any other way than he was officially a pain in Eddie’s ass?

“Hey. Look at me, Steve.”

Steve looked. Of course he looked. He was like a dog learning new tricks at this point.

“I can call Robin if you want. I can talk her through what to do.”

“Um. Is it…like this?”

He didn’t mind Robin touching him, that wasn’t it. It was more that Robin was touch averse, and rarely did more than give him a quick hug of comfort if he needed it. It’s not that she wouldn’t be willing to try whatever this is, but he didn’t want her to have to.

“Well. It depends on the person. But it seems to be working for you, so yeah, probably.”

“I don’t think she could.”

“Do you have anyone else you trust who might be free?”

Steve didn’t have to think about it. No. He had Robin and his job.

He shook his head and sniffled.

How pitiful.

He reminded himself again that he’s crying and making a fool of himself in front of a stranger. Sure, Eddie did his tattoo, seemed nice, seemed to care that he was taken care of.

Which was a red flag to Steve.

Why does this stranger care so much?

“Why do you care?”

Steve pulled away despite every nerve and bone and muscle in his body wishing he’d stay wrapped up in Eddie’s arms. He watched as Eddie’s face spent a few moments circling between amusement, hurt, and anger.

“I care because you have no idea what’s happening and it can be dangerous for you if you don’t have someone around who does.”

“And you do?”

“I know enough.”

“But you don’t know me.”

“I think I’m starting to.”

Steve didn’t like the sound of that at all. He doesn’t let people know him. He hadn’t even told Eddie anything.

“Can you explain what the hell is happening?”

Eddie sat down on the couch and pulled Steve down so his head was in his lap.

How did he manage to do that so quickly? Why did Steve let him?

Why was Steve more relaxed now than he’d been in years?

Fingers played with the ends of his hair as Eddie spoke softly.

“You went into subspace. I didn’t notice at first, but when I looked up for the first check in, I could tell. Glazed over eyes, one word answers, cheeks red. You were letting me move your arm like a rag doll.” Eddie scratched at his scalp and he couldn’t help letting out a moan. It felt good, sue him. “Do you remember me checking in?”

“Um. Kinda?”

Steve was trying to focus on Eddie’s voice again, but the way his hands scratched at his scalp had his eyelids dropping.

“You were under the whole time. I tried a few times to get you focused, but it didn’t happen. I’m pretty familiar with it so I didn’t panic.”

“What happened after?”

“You mean the drop?”

“Yeah.”

“It happens sometimes. You crash too hard after or you don’t have someone to take care of you or both. Sometimes it happens even with those things not being a problem.”

“And that’s happening? To me?”

“I think so. Normally by now I’d probably be okay with you going home and taking it easy, but you didn’t even know what was going on. You’re gonna have to let me be a little bit dramatic about it.”

Steve would’ve rolled his eyes if he were able to, but unfortunately exhaustion was creeping in again.

“You can rest your eyes, sunshine. I’m right here.”

That shouldn’t make Steve feel safe. Or relaxed. Or content. Or happy. Or loved. Especially not loved.

But it did. He did.

Well, fuck.

— — — — — — —

Steve managed to send a text to Robin and made sure she could see his location just in case.

Eddie made sure she had his number and address, too.

Steve was feeling more present, but still unstable. He was thinking too hard, but couldn’t work through his thoughts in a way that was helpful.

This shit was for the birds.

He was telling Eddie the truth that he had no idea what was going on and that it had never happened to him, but as he rode to Eddie’s apartment in the passenger seat of Eddie’s car, he remembered an instance not too long ago with someone he hooked up with.

They’d been messing around in the bathroom of the club, Steve against the door of the stall, and the guy (Alex? Adam? Anders? Who knows.) pulled both of his wrists together and held them above his head tightly. He let his eyes roll back and the next thing he knew, the guy was finishing him off furiously with his hand down his pants.

But he hadn’t gone through this dropping thing Eddie was insisting he was doing right now.

Eddie seemed to know what he was talking about, so he believed it, but he found it hard to believe something as simple as a tattoo could do this to him.

Eddie kept a firm grip on his thigh the entire way to his place.

“I don’t want to risk things getting worse. Usually it helps to have physical contact.”

Steve didn’t want to admit he was right, but the hand on his thigh did help keep him centered and focused.

He stayed quiet for the ride, letting Eddie’s voice singing along to the radio be the only noise in the car.

When they arrived at Eddie’s house (he had a whole house?), Eddie turned to him with a soft smile.

“Tired?”

Steve nodded.

“Let’s get you inside so you can sleep it off. Feel okay other than that?”

Steve shrugged.

Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Can you use your words, Sunshine?”

Steve opened his mouth, but stopped just before he was going to say something.

Hm. He knew what he wanted to say, he knew how to get his mouth to say it, but his voice wasn’t working with the rest of him to get it out.

“Okay. That’s alright. Let’s get you inside. Water and a snack, maybe a bath?”

Steve shrugged again.

Eddie knew what was best for him, so he’d let Eddie decide.

That just felt easier.

TAG LIST: @invisibleflame812 @inmoonywetrust @captain-daryn

Chapter 3

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #ao3fic #tumblr drabbles #myfic #grumpy sunshine trope #tattoo artist eddie munson #part 2 #chapter 2

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