#falling in love slowly

[hairmetal666]

Steve and Eddie don't like each other at first. Or, no, that's not quite right. They're still bonded from everything. They're friends, sort of, but they don't spend time together outside the group, have trouble talking one-on-one.

Steve doesn't think about it much. So, he and Eddie won't ever be real friends, okay. He's a little disappointed, but mostly he doesn't understand how he feels about the other guy. He's always anxious when Eddie's around, clumsy and stuttering, infected with Robin's tendency to nervous chatter. It doesn't make sense. It's just Eddie. But that's the thing. It's Eddie and Steve doesn't know how to act around him.

And Eddie? Well, he spends a lot of time avoiding Steve because the fucking cascade of butterflies he gets every time Harrington is around. He knows what it means, knows even he isn't immune to the Harrington charm, but he needs to be. He needs to keep his heart safe. So, he keeps his distance because Steve Harrington is not for him and never will be.

It changes during movie nights. First it's teasing Dustin and Mike, mocking whatever horrible movie the kids put on, and then it's inside jokes, and playful bickering, and evenings with just the two of them drinking beer and sharing joints.

Then it's August. It's too hot everywhere and Steve's parents are home, so they're in Steve's car, driving with no destination, a couple joints in Eddie's jacket pocket and a six-pack in the trunk. They're listening to a mixtape Eddie made Steve, a bunch of metal. Steve still doesn't get it but there are a couple of songs he enjoys. Rainbow in the Dark starts--this is one Steve likes, reminds him of Eddie and not just because it's Dio. Sun filters through foliage and into the car windows, backlighting Eddie's curls like he's some kind of deity, beautiful and ethereal, not part of this world.

Steve starts singing along to the music, can't help himself. His friend throws him a beaming smile, big enough that Steve thinks his heart stops. He smiles back. He and Eddie sing the rest of the song together, and Steve is...he's content. He's happy. He hasn't felt this way since--well fuck--since 1983. Their eyes meet again, gazes linger, warmth pools in Steve's chest and low in his stomach.

Oh. He thinks. That's what this is. It settles something inside him, the knowing.

Time passes, they get closer, share a bed most nights. Doesn't matter where as long as they're together. Sleep better this way, both of them.

They're at the trailer when it happens, sharing a joint, loosely tucked against each other in bed.

"I've never had a friend like you," Eddie says. His eyes stay fixed on the smoke he exhaled. "I know you and Robin are--like, I get it. But you're--for me--"

"Yeah," Steve agrees. He flushes from his chest to forehead. "For me too."

It's enough, they both think. They're standing on the edge of more have been for months, but this? This is good. There's no need to push, to force. They're hurt, Steve thinks. They're healing. And they have time.

Corroded Coffin plays their first show back at the Hideout in December. Steve's never seen Eddie like this, performing. His shirt is cropped and artfully torn, his jeans more rip than pants. He's wearing eyeliner and his hair is wild. And the way he moves, sinuous and sleek, hips thrusting in a tantalizing rhythm as he shreds on the guitar. Steve wants so badly he feels it in his teeth.

He finds Eddie smoking behind the Hideout after the set. His eye are too bright, his smile manic, the adrenaline keying him up to the highest setting of Eddie. Steve knows he matches the energy, can't help it.

Eddie throws himself into Steve's arms, wrapping around him tight enough that no space lingers. The musician presses his face into Steve's neck, nuzzling, lips pressing against his pulse point. They touch always, share a bed and cuddle, but never like this; nothing like this. Steve pulls Eddie closer, and groans at the mutual swivel of their hips.

Eddie's breath comes in panting bursts, and Steve thinks, "here it is, finally, finally," but the door next to them bangs open and they jump apart at the noise.

Their friends and the rest of the Corroded Coffin guys come out, frolicking and shouting, complimenting Eddie on the show. If anyone noticed them embracing, notices the way they both adjust their clothing to hide their matching arousal, they don't say anything.

Steve wakes early the next morning, early enough that Eddie doesn't even stir beside him, hair wild and eyeliner smeared.

He gets out of bed, starts breakfast, chocolate chip pancakes and bacon, Eddie's favorite. He's so intent on cooking that he doesn't hear the other man come up behind him, doesn't realize he's even awake until a warm body presses to his back, long-fingered hands slipping under his t-shirt, tracing the scars on his stomach. He leans into it without a thought. They touch all the time, but they don't touch like this.

"Watcha making, sweetheart?" Eddie whispers.

"Your favorite," Steve answers.

Eddie makes a little sound, almost a whimper, and presses his face to Steve's neck. Steve lifts his chin, leaning into Eddie and offering more. Warm lips press against his jaw, down to the moles on his throat. A moan slips from his lips as he grinds his ass into Eddie's hardness. The other man groans, grabbing at Steve's hips.

Somewhere in the press of their bodies, Steve has the presence of mind to turn. He lifts his hands, cups Eddie's jaw, thumbs caressing the stubbled, scarred skin of his cheeks. "Okay?" He asks. His voice shakes.

Eddie's eyes are wide, shining, and he swallows hard. Steve knows he's overwhelmed, knows that the words won't come. Instead, Eddie nods, and finally finally they kiss.

Steve is flying. His blood soars in his veins, his heart lifts off. It was always supposed to be this. Always supposed to be them.

It was slow. It was easy. It was small jokes, and long looks, and little touches, and singing in cars and best friends and sharing beds.

His heart belonged to Eddie Munson for months. It will belong to him forever.

[buppkizz]

old lil comic abt spy's disdain for engie

[loveinhawkins]

While he’s still not recovered enough to play the guitar, Eddie takes up writing again. He uses a scrappy notebook, nothing special: to start with, it’s more a record of his handwriting slowly becoming clearer; gripping the pen, moving it across the page, no longer seems such a daunting task.

And look, it’s not like he’s Shakespeare here, somehow churning out masterpieces from a hospital bed. Sometimes he’s just doodling, flooding the margins with black ink until it bleeds through to the other side, looping spirals over and over for no reason—or maybe just to prove that he can.

He always keeps the notebook close by: folded over, the spine broken so it can rest propped up on the bedside cabinet. Sometimes he forgets, has to quickly put it under the sheets if he’s still writing whenever a nurse comes in.

He doesn’t know what he’s afraid of them seeing, exactly. Just remembers the fear of middle school—a boy ripping his notebook out of his hands and just laughing at Eddie’s desperate attempts to get it back.

It had been a lesson—to not be careless. To not leave pieces of himself lying around for others to handle.

Gradually, he fills more and more pages. Diary entries emerge in between mindless scribbles, and they help even if he’s not ready for talking about March yet, not even to himself.

He painstakingly logs conversations had during visiting hours; just focusing on one word leading into the next is calming, helps bring him out of his head. He’s got whole pages devoted to Wayne’s birdwatching, and actual full-blown diagrams thanks to Robin Buckley filling him in on obscure band kid drama.

On nights when his heart races for no apparent reason, he stays up writing—usually drifts off to sleep by the afternoon, notebook slipping through his ink-stained fingers.

He stirs awake on one such day, and he doesn’t know why until he hears the rustle of pages, the gentle thunk of something being set down.

His notebook.

“Did you look?” he murmurs, more asleep than awake. Maybe that’s why he asks: time is strange in dreams, long buried fears drifting up to the surface.

“No.”

And Eddie manages to open his eyes just enough to see Steve standing by his bed. He’s neatly set the notebook in its usual place on the cabinet, except he’s shut it so the edges don’t curl up all that much.

“No, I didn’t look. Eddie, that’s yours, okay?” Steve says softly, but no less serious for it.

And Eddie wonders if there’s more to the pages he’s filled, even the scribbles—if he’s revealed more of himself than he thought.

“You can if you want,” Eddie mumbles into the pillow.

“Shh. Go back to sleep.”

“Don’t mind if it’s you,” Eddie says. He reaches for words, clumsy with drowsiness, and he surprises himself with what he says, but he finds that he means it. Feels it, so certainly. “Want… want you to see.”

The thought would’ve been terrifying years ago.

But this isn’t middle school, and he trusts Steve Harrington with his heart.

[thecoolsquirrel]

[mersei47]

more of mermaid doodles

[rosy-crow]

How many games that I like are going to have really interesting portraits on the walls of beautiful old mansions or castles that I CAN’T FUCKING GET A DECENT LOOK AT AAAAAA

Anyway thanks to people on Twitter for these shots.

This is such a cool detail. Hojo and Lucrecia back in the day…I guess their couple’s portrait? I just remembered that they were actually married according to the family trees

Really gives off old school Victorian couple vibes like:

Also apparently Lucrecia looks so much like Sephiroth that some people thought it was him at first ahsvsvs.

Love how you can see the Shinra logo in the back…ughhhh dude I would kill for a prequel game on the people behind the Jenova project. The scientists that started it all.

GIVE ME MORE OF THE GOTHIC HORROR AND ACADEMIC MADNESS BLOSSOMING IN A HAUNTED MANSION STUFF!

[skyppl-e]

oh yeah.... im making aus now.... florist au but al haitham is a part time employee at the plant nursery tighnari owns and kaveh keeps running into him

[bakudekublogblog]

it never stops being funny to me that people are bkdk antis in the year 2024 like “katsuki bullied izuku!! how dare you ship izuku with him” ??? take it up with izuku he’s is the one pining his ass off for him. I can’t make izuku not yearn for katsuki ??? I’m sorry I have observational skills?? izuku is just like that you think I can stop him??

[trensu]

ETA: now on ao3 as Hawkins Halfway House for Homeless Horrors

ETA2: now with an additional snippet

okay, how's this for an AU

We know that Steve wants to be a dad. Like, his literal life dream is to have a minimum of six children. SIX. who wants that?? crazy people, that's who. but we forgive him his insanity because he's sweet and will actually probably be a really good dad and there's not enough of those in the world.

the downer is that it's the late 90s, he's a (still) single guy in his thirties, and every adoption agency on the planet would rather give their children to a heteronormative couple who don't even want kids than to a single dude who would dedicate his heart and soul to giving his kids a happy healthy home.

He's bemoaning his fate to Robin at a bar they recently discovered. It's a weird little joint, kinda tucked away on the outskirts where Steve could've sworn didn't exist just last week. The patrons were kinda weird too but neither he or Robin could put their finger on why or how. If Steve had been a little less miserable, and Robin a little less caught up in comforting him, they might've noticed how everyone else in the bar kept sneaking curious glances at them or how they somehow always kept most of their features hidden.

They didn't though. Even when they were interrupted by a handsome black gentleman who called himself Jeff. Jeff said that he couldn't help but overhear their dilemma and that he's actually part of an agency that is more open minded about potential foster or adoptive parents. Steve's a little deeper in his cups than he intended, and doesn't question that some random guy in a bar is offering him a chance of having children. Robin is not as far in her cups and finds it a bit suspicious.

She was going to say something about it but Jeff looked her in the eye and said, "Everything is fine. There's no reason to worry. I'm only trying to help."

"You're only trying to help," Robin murmured back blearily. "Everything is fine. Yeah. Yeah, 'm not worried."

Jeff gives Steve his card and tells him he can stop by the very next day if he'd like, since his schedule is open.

The next day, Steve is regretting having gotten so drunk. Not really because of the hangover (though holy shit, he is NOT twenty anymore he needs to stop drinking like one). No. It's because Jeff had just finished giving him a tour of the facility full of rambunctious children in need of a home.

Actually, that had been pretty okay even if the other adults in the facility startled at the sight of him and the children kept ducking into other rooms to hide from him.

No. It's because Jeff had just introduced him to a child named Dustin who sneezed unexpectedly and somehow turned into a kitten.

"Um," Steve said. Jeff sighed.

"Dustin hasn't gotten back control over his shapeshifting since his mother's passing, but I assure you he's been improving."

"...shapeshifting," Steve said, numbly.

"Yes. Dustin tends to go for cat shapes, like his mother did." Jeff bends down to pick up the loudly mewing tabby kitten. "We've managed to get him to shift mostly into a domestic shorthair, rather than a cougar cub."

"That's great," Steve squeaked as he tried to tamp down the growing hysteria in him. "Really, really great. Y'know what, Jeff, this whole thing's been great but I think I'm still kind of drunk so I'm just gonna go--"

"No, wait," Jeff says, quickly placing the Dustin kitten on his shoulder before reaching out to grab Steve by the elbow. "Please. Look, you seem like a good guy. I did a quick scan of you and everything, and I really think if you'd take a moment to sit down and--"

"JEFFORD BILLANY JONES."

Jeff's shoulders hunched, nearly dislodging Dustin from his shoulder. He sighed again and turned to face the man storming towards him and Steve.

"Eddy, you know none of that is my name."

"I'll call you whatever I want since for some unfathomable reason, you've brought a human into my sanctuary. Why is there a human in my home, Jeffamy."

"Eddy, let me explain."

"It's Eddie in front of the human," Eddie said.

Steve's brain was experiencing some sort of malfunction because Jeff had been calling this man Eddie, except if he concentrated, the way Jeff said Eddie and the way Eddie had said Eddie sounded very very different except it hadn't because they both sounded like Eddie except for how Jeff's Eddie sounded different from, the same as, different, just like--

A pair of ringed fingers snapped aggressively in front of his face, startling Steve from an impending aneurysm.

"You. Who are you, who sent you, what do you want."

Steve stuttered something incoherent. He's pretty sure he's had a mental break from reality. There was some sort of sentient black sludge creeping across the tiled floor, wrapping a tendril around Jeff's leg.

"What is that?" Steve squawked. Jeff beamed at him.

"Oh, this is El! She's a Monster Under the Bed. She hasn't decided on a form yet, but that's okay, we love her just as she is."

"Jeff," Eddie snapped. Jeff looked at Eddie stubbornly.

"You told me we needed all hands on deck."

"How dare you, I'd never stoop to using boat metaphors."

"Don't distract me with blatant lies. Eddy, you said we needed help. You said you'd take anyone at this point."

Steve has not been able to stop staring at the sludge creature (El?). He's beginning to realize that he can't quite remember what Jeff looked like, or any of the adults they had seen. He's noticing that some of the children that have been scampering about had looked off. Like the boy with the bowl-cut they had passed by earlier who had looked...frosty around the edges. Or the girl he thought had had red feathers in her hair but is now suspecting the feathers were something more than decorative.

Ringed fingers snap in front of his face again. Steve finally focused on the man named Eddie who was actually named Eddie which was different from Eddie somehow. Now that he's able to shove away the confusion that is this man's name, he's struck by the fact that Eddie was quite possibly the most gorgeous man Steve's ever seen. He had wide, dark eyes that made Steve think of seabeds in the deepest of waters. His hair was a riot of dark brown curls that for some reason brought to mind swirling schools of fish.

"Answer my questions," Eddie demanded. Steve blinked and, with some difficulty, remembered the previous interrogation.

"Uh, I'm Steve. Jeff invited me because I want to be a dad."

Eddie barked out a laugh.

"Oh, is that right? In that case, welcome to Hawkins' Halfway House for Homeless Horrors! I'm sure Jeff would love to finish introducing you to the rest of our children. Have you met Mike? He's a ghoul! Or Lucas! He's a werewolf and his dream is to become a basketball star. They both have very sharp teeth so watch out for their tantrums."

Jeff scowls at Eddie before turning back to Steve. Steve was starting to feel faint and he was no longer sure if he regretted drinking the night before or regretted not drinking more.

"Steve, it's okay. Eddy is making it sound scarier than it actually is. You said you wanted to be a dad, and we need foster parents that can help these kids learn how to blend in with humans. That's what the halfway house is for, but there's only so much they can learn while living in sanctuary. We need a way to have them experience the human world more directly while still keeping them safe, and I think you're the solution we've been looking for. What do you think?"

"I think I need to sit down," Steve said thinly. Eddie snorted derisively. Steve was slightly offended but honestly everything was a bit too much right now and he really would like to sit down for a moment just to process. Because monsters are real, apparently, and some of them need parents. Which was terrifying to think about but also not so much? Because all kids were little monsters some of the time right? If Steve could have a moment to get his bearings...

"This was a terrible idea, Jeffathan."

"I think it was a great idea, actually. I really think this could work."

"No. I forbid it. Don't do this again."

Then there was a sweet and beautiful humming. It made the edges of Steve's mind go fuzzy and soft. He blinked slowly and looked for the source of the sound. Eddie stared at him intently and when he spoke, his voice was like music.

"Steve," Eddie said. "Steve, do you want to make me happy?"

Steve nodded dumbly. He wanted that more than anything in the whole world. He wanted to make Eddie smile. He wanted Eddie to never stop singing.

"It would make me very happy if you went home and forgot everything you saw here today," Eddie continued.

Steve made a sad sound. He didn't want to forget. He didn't want to forget beautiful, gorgeous Eddie and this place that could make his dream come true.

"Please, Steve," Eddie's lyrical voice took on an aching mournful tone. "If you don't, you'll break my heart. I'll never be happy again."

The sadness in the song made Steve feel like the world was ending. Eddie couldn't be sad! Steve would rather die than make Eddie sad!

"I forget," Steve mumbled through the fog in his mind. "And you'll be happy?"

"So happy. I'd be the happiest man alive if you do that one little thing for me, my sweet Steve."

Steve nods again. "Okay."

"Good boy," Eddie croons. Steve felt like he swallowed the sun at those words. He followed Eddie as Eddie guided him through the halfway house. Eddie hummed his lovely song the entire way.

"Go home and forget," Eddie sang one last time as he helped Steve get behind the wheel of his car.

"Yeah," Steve replied dreamily and drove away.

--

The telephone rang shrilly through his apartment. Steve stumbled out of bed and picked up, only fumbling it a little bit.

"H'llo?"

"Steve, what the hell, I've been trying to get a hold of you all day! Where have you been?" Robin's voice rang out, making Steve flinch. He scrubbed his free hand over his face tiredly.

"Home? I just woke up," Steve said. It was weird that he was fully dressed, he thought dazedly, but it wouldn't be the first time he's passed out drunk in his street clothes. Was he wearing this shirt yesterday? He could've sworn he'd worn the navy one.

"What? Just now? It's like five in the evening!"

"Huh. That'd explain the weird dream," Steve mumbled.

"Was it the one where you get seduced by a giant squid? Because I don't need to know more about your weird tentacle fetish."

"I don't have a tentacle fetish! I had the dream ONE time, and I wasn't being seduced, I was getting drowned and it was terrifying!"

"To-may-to, to-mah-to."

"Whatever, this one was weirder anyway."

"I find that hard to believe but now I'm morbidly curious. Hit me with it."

"...I don't remember."

"There goes my entertainment for the evening."

"Was there a reason you called, Robin?"

"Yes! I met this girl named Chrissy and I swear Steve, she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen..."

Beautiful. Steve had the faint impression of dark eyes and silver rings, but it was quickly washed away like a child's sandcastle in the tide under the onslaught of Robin's ramblings. As he listened to his best friend, he couldn't help but feel there was something he'd forgotten. There was something he'd been planning on doing today, wasn't there...?

...oh, well. If it was really important, he'd remember eventually.

[ginsays]

a smattering of modern au coparenting chengyao doodles from last year. could be good. could be fun

[vasira96]

can't stop daydreaming about a soulslike zelda game yall i'm so normal about this

[heliomanteia]

French can not be the language of love because Arabic exists.

[driftingvoid-155]

AU where William opened a restaurant, a normal diner with breakfast & no singing bears, until one day the local mechanic who’s known for being a bit eccentric shows up like hey ‘can my animatronic band play here?’ and William, completely sleep deprived and running on half a donut, absentmindedly says ‘sure’ and the next day lo and behold there they sit up on a little makeshift stage, and William is trying to remember how they got there but is still too tired to give a single solitary fuck and hey the customers seem to like them, so there they stay

[introspectivememories]

high school timber is all about repression!!!

it's about bernard desperately trying to prove to himself and his parents that he's straight!! because his parents already don't like him and he cannot be gay. not now not ever!!!! so he puts up this front of a ladies man and he picks a girl he cant ever get together with and maybe he kisses like 3/4 of the female population at grieves and gains a reputation but hey! at least he's not gay! but he's so caught up in making sure his eyes don't to stick too long on tyrone's face or michael-from-biology's eyes or kabir-from-study-hall's thick thighs that even his attraction to women is under a filter. and it's not that he doesn't like women, he does! very much so!! but it's that he's soo caught on not being perceived as gay that he cant show his attraction to women the way he'd like to. it's all under this filter of what he thinks Real Men who are attracted to women act like so it's this brash, loud, crass, thing and it's not him at all. it's "ooh tim, ms. winters is soooo hot!" or "hey kayla, why don't you and i get to know each other a little better, if you know what i mean?" or "god her tits are soo big. she's so fucking hot!" and all this other shit when he really means, "tim, why the fuck does your stepmom have such a pretty smile?" or "kayla, you said you liked yugioh? i'd love to hear more about it!" or "god fuck, that girl has such pretty hands. i think if i held them i'd combust." but none of that is how a Real Man likes women so he shuts that shit down before it even has a chance to come up. it's fine, he's fine. so what if no one ever holds him like he holds those girls? it's fine. he'll take the manwhore label and the fuckboy title and he'll give out as many kisses as those girls want and if sometimes when he's kissing a girl he wonders what it'd be like to sit on kabir's thighs or if tyrone's lips really are as soft as they look, that's just the devil speaking. and if sometimes when he walks back into the cafeteria at lunch, lipstick still smudged on the corner of his mouth, after making out with a girl and his eyes skirt over tim's lithe body and he wonders what it'd be like to draw out the same sounds he's heard girls make when he kisses them, or what it'd be like to brush his thumb over tim's hands, or what it'd be like to hold tim or press a kiss to his shoulder, or a million and one other things, well that'll just have to be another one his secrets.

and it's about tim who's in a relationship with stephanie and his dad knows he's robin and he doesn't have time to figure out why his mouth goes dry when the light hits bernard's hair just right. he's too busy trying to figure out a way back to his nightlife. and so what if bernard has pretty pink lips that look very plush? so what if he's looked at some of his teammates and thought they were handsome? he's not blind!!! he has a girlfriend! and he loves her! and so what if his hand brushes bear's during fourth-period bio? so what if the tingles last all day? it was just some static! and it doesn't matter that when bear laughs his eyes get squinty and they water over -- cause bear always laughs so hard he almost cries -- and it sounds like bells. and it doesn't even matter, that sometimes when bernard walks back into the lunchroom, 10 minutes before the bell rings, lipstick smeared across the corner of his mouth, lips tilted up in the most charming smirk he's ever seen, that his chest fills with jealousy. it doesn't matter that his hands clench into fists so hard that his nails leave crescents marks all day. it doesn't matter that he wants to be bear's flavor of the day, week, month, whatever. he wants to leave the lipstick marks!! he wants to know if bear really is as good as he hears the girls speak about!!! he wants to know "that thing bernard does with his tongue!" is! he wants to drape himself over bear the same way he sees those girls do! he wants to know what bear's hands feel like gripping his waist. he wants, wants, wants!!! but it doesn't matter. it doesn't. he's got a girlfriend, her name is stephanie, she's gorgeous and, most importantly he loves her. he's too busy for bernard anyway.

[my-cabbages-gorl]

Post-canon AU Aang and Zuko traveling on official political business

Village elder: We apologize for our meager offering of accommodations, we wish we had more space, or even another bed in our village to accommodate esteemed guests such as yourselves

Aang: *waves hand* Don’t even worry about it, we’ll make do!

[sophiethewitch1]

i genuinely love writing for damian he is such a piece of shit <3 <3