Steve goes to a gay club for the first time alone. He and Robin, they'd talked about it since moving to Chicago, but every time they made plans he got cold feet.
But on a random, rainy Saturday with Robin back home in Hawkins, he decides fuck it, puts on his sluttiest jeans and polo, and goes to the damn club. He's sick of being nervous--he's going to make out with a guy for the first time tonight.
The club is crowded, loud, sweaty, the energy a pulsing wave. He's overwhelmed immediately, but it's invigorating. He pushes towards the bar, orders a beer, then cozies himself against the nearest wall.
He sips his drink and watches beautiful men dance and kiss and play, and he wants to be part of it, get out there, find his own person to get close to but--
What if none of this is for him? He feels out of place in his clothes, with his hairstyle, an old version of himself that doesn't belong in this world.
There's a swell of sound at the bar, and he glances over, expecting drunks or fighting. Instead, he sees a guy who makes his plans to leave slip straight from his mind.
He's unlike any other person there, even within his group. Long, curly hair, visible tattoos, ripped black jeans, a faded black t-shirt under a big leather jacket. He moves with purpose and grace, obviously uncaring about fitting in.
Steve can't stop watching him, transfixed. He buys another beer, settles back against his wall. He knows it's weird, but can't bring himself to care. Not when it's helping him feel more comfortable in his own skin.
The guy, he's vibrant, the brightest spot, his laughter reaching Steve even over the pounding music.
He's beautiful.
The lights flash, illuminating his face and recognition hits Steve like a fist. It's Eddie Munson, former freak of Hawkins High.
Steve's spine straightens, chest tightening. He can't believe--I mean there were rumors about Eddie in school, but he's here, right now, in Chicago, and Steve--Steve--
He abandons the remains of his beer, rushing out the door.
Stop what you’re doing right now and go write 3 sentences of your story.
Every time you see this, write 3 lines.
Reblog so other writers will do the same, let’s finish these damn stories.
Goddamn it. I feel like I’m about to step into a loop.
THERE IT IS AGAIN!!!
Every time I see this, not only I do write, I queue it, too. Who cares if I just did it yesterday so there’s already one in the pipeline?
Y’all can hate me for reblogging it so much and making you write, but hey, at least you’re writing.
HEY YOU WITH THE FACE READING THIS. GO WRITE.
now why did that work
let me scroll down to see the replies (spoiler alert: huge mistake)
uhhh- im like 98.69% sure that the qsmp members have like a separate folder for all these reaction images of the other members(and themselves) lmao
finally he realises and accepts that his life is just a hallucination and we're all mentally insane :)
RED ALERT RED ALERT THE SLIMECICLE HAS SUCCESSFULLY INFECTED TUBBO
thank you for coming this far, you are now obliged to reblog this post :)
Or a cosmic dragon that supports Asexuals :D
You’ll never know which one I am
I AM BOTH!!! HEHEHEHEHEHEHE
Affirmation for writers, please!!
Likes do nothing!!
