#gerry writes

[steves-strapcollection]

would you find me in the stars?

Something soft I wrote for my dear friend @scarcrossdlvrs who wanted a hug but, cruelly, we're separated by two time zones and an international border 💕 Posting for anyone else who needs a hug.

Eddie sat on the steps of the porch on his and Wayne’s new trailer, arms propped on his knees with a cigarette pinched between two fingers, largely forgotten. The trailer park and the forest surrounding it were silent, something that was rare and usually welcome, but it just made Eddie itch. His head was swimming with thoughts he knew weren’t true—that no one cared about him, he was a burden, everyone wished he’d died in the Upside Down and spared them the trouble.

At least if there was an argument happening in one of the other trailers, or animals making a ruckus, Eddie’s spinning mind would have something to latch onto and he could break out of the spiral in his mind.

But no, the world was silent while his head was loud, and he never felt more like a speck than he did right then. Insignificant, unnoticeable, forgettable, dirty. The world was silent, empty, devoid of life, affirming his lonely fears.

“—Eds?”

Eddie startled as a hand waved in front of his face, dropping his cigarette into the dirt between his feet as he looked up with wide eyes, meeting a concerned, hazel gaze.

“Harrington?” Eddie asked, glancing around the still silent trailer park. Steve’s car was parked just a few feet away, which meant the man drove up, parked, got out, and even spoke to him and Eddie didn’t snap out of his swirling thoughts.

Steve’s mouth tensed at the corners for a second before he asked, “You okay, Eddie? You were pretty far away.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Eddie lied weakly, grimacing at how obvious the lie was. “What’s—what’re you doing here?”

Steve looked around then back at Eddie. “I just got off work,” he said as if it explained everything.

“I’m not exactly on your way home, Steve,” Eddie pressed when Steve didn’t elaborate further and Steve snorted, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I got off work and wanted to come over and see you, to check on you, y’know?” Steve admitted, shocking Eddie to his core before he held up a plastic bag. “I brought some take-out from that new Chinese place that opened right by Family Video.”

Seeing the bag of food had Eddie’s stomach rumbling loud enough that Steve could hear it. “Shit, I’m starved, c’mon in,” Eddie said with a forced smile, and he carefully got up off the steps, gesturing for Steve to go inside ahead of him.

The two of them make quick work of eating the food, the conversation limited between them, but it was a nice sort of quiet. It was a shared quiet, and slowly Eddie felt himself lifting out of that mood from earlier. When Steve dropped one of the empty cartons he was scraping out with his fork with a sigh, Eddie looked at the clock on the wall. He wasn’t ready for Steve the head out, but he also couldn’t justify asking him to stay.

“Well, I guess I’ll let you get to the rest of your rounds?” Eddie said, rubbing his hands on his thighs.

Steve looked up at Eddie with a perplexed expression. “Rounds? What rounds?”” he asked.

Eddie floundered at his confusion. “You—you’re not checking up on everybody?” he asked, his voice a bit quiet.

“No, man, I mean sometimes I do, but usually I’m good with using the radios,” Steve replied, shrugging.

“Then why’re you here?” Eddie asked, his head a bit hazy as he tried to understand what Steve was saying.

Steve’s face got a bit pinched with his own confusion before it softened, unbearably so. “I came to check on you and hang out. If you want me to leave—”

“Why, though?” Eddie asked, a bit more forcefully, his eyes stinging with the emotion that was welling up.

“I was thinking about you while I was at work, then I realized I hadn’t seen you in a couple days,” Steve explained, reaching across to wrap a hand loosely around Eddie’s wrist. “What’s going on, Eds?”

It was the little nickname that did it, the cute little name that only Steve called him these days, and Eddie couldn’t blow Steve off when he was being earnest like this, even if he wanted to.

“You ever feel like you’re just… completely fucking alone? That no one gives a shit about you? That you survived one too many near-death experiences to be worth the trouble?” Eddie asked quietly, and the whole world seemed to settle just a little bit more when Steve’s grip on his wrist tightened a bit.

“All the time, Eds,” Steve admitted a bit breathlessly, and that honestly took Eddie by surprise. Meeting Steve’s eyes again, he could see just how sincerely Steve had meant it.

“Yeah,” Eddie sighed, chuckling humorlessly. “Just been feeling a helluva lot like that, lately.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Steve asked and Eddie smiled, the expression real this time.

“Could use a hug, but you’re already doing plent—oof!”

It took several moments for Eddie to realize that they were standing, Steve’s arms wrapped around his waist and chin resting on Eddie’s shoulder, squeezing Eddie around the middle firmly. Perfectly.

With a happy, teary sigh, Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve’s shoulders and held on desperately. Steve melted against his front with a sigh of his own before turning his face to rest his cheek on Eddie’s shoulder, his breath puffing across Eddie’s throat.

“Damn, Stevie, if I knew you’d just give me what I asked for, I would’ve asked for something better,” Eddie teased, dropping his own chin onto Steve’s shoulder.

“Anything you want, Eds,” Steve promised, and Eddie shivered. That was a dangerous promise.

“Careful, pretty boy, what if I asked for a kiss to make the hurt go away, huh?” Eddie asked, acutely aware of how close to his throat Steve’s lips were.

“I’d ask where you wanted that kiss, where it hurt the most,” Steve hummed, and Eddie felt a pang of want surge through him. It wasn’t even the desperate, horny want he was used to. It was yearning.

Eddie was feeling better, enough so that the vulnerability was getting difficult to keep rolling. “And if I said my dick…?” Eddie deflected, trailing off and laughing when Steve snorted and pinched his side.

“I’d say…” Steve started, pulling back enough to meet Eddie’s eyes and cup his cheek with one hand. Steve’s eyes met Eddie’s before looking down at his lips, not looking away as he said, “I’d take a raincheck on that, just for tonight. Then I’d ask if a kiss on the lips would be a good enough substitute.”

“I’d say yes—mmph!”

Eddie blinked, wide-eyed and actually giddy as Steve’s lips slotted perfectly against his own. The kiss was chaste, sweet, perfect. Even if Eddie started crying, especially as Steve brought his other hand up to determinedly wipe the tears on his cheeks away. And Steve, bless him, didn’t stop kissing him no matter how many more tears fell, or the way Eddie’s breathing turned into hiccupping sobs.

Steve just held him tight, kissed him sweetly, and brought him back to a world where he was allowed to be, wanted even, and Eddie knew the man wouldn’t let him forget it.

[gerrystamour]

the fire is so delightful

For: @mojowitchcraft / weird_witchcraft

Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington & Max "Maxine" Mayfield

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 5,500

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Single Parent Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington is Max's dad in this, Steve Harrington is a Christmas Lover, Falling In Love, Love Confessions, Frottage, Dom/sub undertones

Summary: Eddie hates Christmas. Steve, and his daughter, loves it. Eddie decides to grin and bear it.

This fic is a part of the @steddieholidayexchange

[ READ ON AO3 ]

All great things come with a certain amount of sacrifice, Eddie told himself that everyday.

So when the hot school teacher that frequented the bar Eddie worked asked him out, he knew there had to be some sort of catch.

He knew Steve was a single dad well before he asked Eddie out and he’d decided that was just fine by him. Eddie loved kids, was great with them even, plus Steve already told him he had a rule about not introducing new partners to his kid too soon. The kid was absolutely not a sacrifice, in Eddie’s mind.

He also knew that Steve was what one might call a jock, athletically inclined and holy shit, did he look like it. Eddie’s high school self was wailing and screaming about him falling for the enemy, but the first tumble between the sheets proved that the athleticism only did good things for things like stamina, strength, power. So once again, not a sacrifice.

Steve was hilarious, dedicated, hot as hell, and the perfect father. He was accommodating and kind, while also the bitchiest, most savage gossip in the entire world. He was also the best goddamn lay Eddie had ever had, what with the way he took control and helped still Eddie’s racing thoughts, sent his mind straight into the stratosphere where he couldn’t think about anything other than the pleasure he was feeling at Steve’s focused hands.

No, they made it three whole months into their relationship before the moment of truth came.

It was actually two months into the relationship when the first hint came up, if Eddie had been paying any attention at all.

“I’m not much of a Halloween person,” Steve had said when Eddie asked why the decorations on his front lawn were so lame. “Neither is Max, so we don’t really go all out.”

That was insane to Eddie, absolute serial killer vibes. There were several seconds where he was actually contemplating if they would work out.

“Maybe you just haven’t had the right person to show you how awesome Halloween is,” Eddie had teased as he crowded Steve against the kitchen counter.

“Maybe,” Steve had replied with a lazy smirk, glancing at Eddie’s mouth. “Definitely happy to let you try to change my mind.”

And damn, did Steve let him try. That beautiful man went to every goddamn haunt and ghost walk that Eddie dragged him to, and he even smiled through most of it. Steve even found something nice to say about everything they did, even the things that Eddie caught him giving bitchy eyerolls at.

By mid-October, Steve had decided it was time that Eddie met his daughter Max, and their first bonding experience was hitting up the Spirit Halloween and getting her a sick costume and then getting half a dozen pumpkins to carve together. They spent the whole afternoon gutting and carving them while Steve cleaned and roasted the seeds and made other treats and dinner for all three of them.

It had been a perfect day, one that ended with Eddie spending the night at Steve’s house, in his bed, and eating breakfast with both Steve and Max. It was one of those times that Eddie realized he was falling in love and falling fast. That morning, Max had asked Eddie if he would take her and her friends trick-or-treating and Eddie thought his chest might explode it felt so full of affection for the twelve-year old.

The moment of truth came sometime around the beginning of November when Steve came to the bar and bopped his head to the Christmas music that was already playing.

“Annoying, right?” Eddie groused, and Steve raised an eyebrow with one of his patient smiles.

“What is?”

“The music. Halloween just ended and we’re already being subjected to the sickening upbeat nonsense for a capitalist holiday?” Eddie had explained grumpily while he shined a glass. When he’d looked up at Steve, he barely caught the weird expression that was quickly wiped from his face.

“You don’t like Christmas?” Steve had asked, and he was smiling but there was something off about it.

“No,” Eddie said honestly and flatly, and Steve did that little laugh he did only when he was trying to not say something. “Do you?”

“Yeah, but like, a normal amount,” Steve said and then he quickly changed the subject.

After that, Steve seemed reluctant to invite him over until Thanksgiving and Eddie pushed about it. When he finally did, he got all the answers he needed.

Steve’s house was… well, lets just say what it lacked for Halloween decor, it definitely made up for with Christmas stuff. There was a big inflatable Santa and reindeer in the front lawn, and honestly the Christmas lights were so well done they looked professional. Like, straight out of those Christmas commercials.

When Eddie stepped into the house, he quickly realized that Steve was likely a lot more into Christmas than “a normal amount” like he claimed. Every surface had some sort of decor, and there was a stand in the front room for a real tree. Staring at that stand, Eddie kind of hoped he was invited along to go shopping for a tree, which was stupid because he hated Christmas.

“Sorry for all the, y’know,” Steve had said as he scrubbed the back of his neck, gesturing around. “This is our thing, me and Max’s I mean.”

“Stevie, babe, you don’t have to apologize. Like at all. Or pretend to be chill. You literally let me be my craziest about Halloween without complaint,” Eddie had said, insistent and desperate for Steve to understand that had he known, he’d have kept his mouth shut about Christmas entirely.

“Yeah, but I don’t hate Halloween, Eds,” Steve had said with the saddest little smile and Eddie had to stop that immediately.

“Listen, Steve, I don’t have many good memories around Christmas because I grew up poor and most of my extended family hated me, so I just— I never saw the point of it,” Eddie said quickly, grabbing Steve’s hands tightly in his own. “I am more than happy to let you try and change my mind. I want to be part of every single stupid Christmas thing you do if you’ll have me and I’ll even play nice about the dumb stuff, just like you did with me. I promise.”

Steve just smirked at him, an expression Eddie had seen only in the context of either playing one of his sports when he was sure he was going to win and in bed when Eddie challenged him to a seemingly impossible task.

“I look forward to teaching you the magic of Christmas, then,” Steve said simply, and kissed him so sweetly that Eddie’s knees nearly buckled beneath him. Then, when he pulled away, he smirked and pointed upward. “Mistletoe.”

When Steve walked away toward the kitchen and Eddie looked up at the mistletoe hanging above him, he knew he was in trouble if the butterflies in his gut were anything to go by.

The thing was, Eddie loved all the “stupid” Christmas shit Steve dragged him to, and it was a lot less like being “dragged” to them. Sure enough, that Thanksgiving weekend, Steve invited Eddie to go shopping for their tree, and Max had been loud in her demand that he say yes. If he hadn’t already been trying to figure out how to ask to go along, that would have convinced him to give up the Grinch schtick. His heart growing three times its size and that shit. Whatever.

Choosing the tree had taken a whole afternoon at the nursery, Max being exceedingly picky and Eddie just feeding into that to make the whole thing last longer. Eventually Steve reached his limit with the two of them and declared that they had to choose one out of the two contenders they were debating between.

“Eddie should choose!” Max declared, crossing her arms over her chest as she rounded on Eddie. “It’s the rules.”

“What rules, red?” he asked, bewildered and a little touched.

“It’s your first Christmas with us,” she said with a roll of her eyes, like it was the most obvious answer. “New friends choose our tree.”

“Yeah, Max, but that’s only if they’re into Christmas,” Steve said, shooting Eddie an apologetic smile.

“What kind of asshole doesn’t like Christmas?” Max asked and Steve’s mouth dropped open as Eddie winced a bit.

“Maxine!” Steve said sternly, putting his hands on his hips and sending Eddie an almost frantic look.

“Steve, it’s fine. More than fine. I would be honoured to choose your tree,” Eddie said, grinning as he stepped close to kiss Steve’s cheek.

“Our tree,” Max said firmly, and Eddie nodded.

“Of course, I meant ‘your tree’ as in the Harrington tree, not just your dad’s tree, little red,” Eddie had reassured her quickly and she just rolled her eyes.

“No, stupid, I mean our tree. It’s your tree, too,” she explained, frowning when Eddie’s mouth dropped open. Then she huffed and glanced away. “Hurry up and choose. I’m getting cold and Lucas wanted to play some dumb video game today.”

So, Eddie chose the Harrington tree and he even was part of bringing it back to their house, setting it up in the stand and decorating it. They spent hours on the whole affair, and that evening after Max had been in bed for an hour, he found himself laying on the floor of the front room staring up at Steve. He was illuminated by the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree, his eyes shining so brightly in the dim room. They had been making out on the floor lazily, their mulled wine cooling in the mugs sitting on a table nearby.

“Thank you for humouring her,” Steve murmured, tucking some of Eddie’s curls behind his ear. “At the nursery. You could’ve said no and I would’ve made her understand.”

“Wasn’t humouring her, Stevie. I mean it,” Eddie insisted, reaching up and cupping Steve’s jaw. “I’m… I’m all in with you, okay? I want to— I helped with the tree because I wanted to, not because she made me.”

Steve’s grin had been blinding and they barely made it to the bedroom before clothes began to be tugged off of each other.

Thus began the trips to winter markets every single weekend, sometimes multiple markets, where Steve and Max would purchase even more kitschy Christmas decor and mulling spice mixes and various fancy pastries and such. It was a lot of Christmas music (which was still disgustingly overplayed) but it was also a lot of seeing Steve and Max smiling so big their faces had to hurt from it.

So, yeah, the sacrifice in this great thing with Steve was that Eddie had to pretend to like Christmas.

The only thing was, he wasn’t pretending, not with Steve. Not with the way Steve and Max did Christmas, the way they involved all of their loved ones and made sure everyone got something out of the holiday from them. It was a shocking revelation when Eddie realized he wanted to spend Christmas with the Harringtons for the rest of his life, that Christmas had the opportunity to usurp Halloween’s place in his heart if Steve kept this up.

When the Hawkins Winter Carnival rolled around, Eddie was ready for the inevitable invite that would come from Steve. It was the thing to do that time of year, and if Eddie was being honest, he had never gone. Well, he went when he was really young, but it didn’t count because he couldn’t remember it.

But the invite just wasn’t coming, and the carnival weekend was quickly approaching. It would be easy enough to secure the day off of work, but it was always better to have as much notice as possible.

“So, were you gonna be going to the Hawkins Winter Carnival?” Eddie asked one day as he sat at the island in Steve’s kitchen, and Steve’s ears went dark red.

“Uhm, yes, I was going,” he admitted sheepishly, and when he looked up, he balked at whatever expression was on Eddie’s face. “I’m just— I’ve been saddled with chaperoning all of Max’s friends and I didn’t want you to have an extra miserable time.”

Eddie blinked at Steve, confused at his logic there. “Why would I be miserable spending the day with two of my favourite people in the whole world?” he asked, grinning at the affectionate eyeroll and blush that got out of Steve.

“Okay, but it’s not just going to be the three of us. It would be us plus a whole gaggle of other twelve-year olds and I wouldn’t wish that fate on my worst enemy,” Steve replied, stirring the sauce he had simmering on the stove.

“Uh-huh, but that’s still not you asking me what I wanna do,” Eddie pointed out, raising an eyebrow when Steve opened his mouth to argue. When Steve snapped it shut again, Eddie puffed his chest up smugly. “That’s what I thought.”

“Fine. Eddie, would you like to join me and a gaggle of sixth-graders to the carnival?” Steve asked with another roll of his eyes, but he was grinning when he looked up at Eddie through his lashes.

“I would love to!” Eddie replied brightly, already texting his boss at the bar to get the day off.

The day of the carnival was bright and sunny, the snow on the ground blinding. The sun beaming through the windows of Eddie’s apartment was warm, so he just put on his jeans, an insulated pair of boots, and one of his heavier coats. He didn’t want to get too hot walking around, he decided, and the thought of keeping track of gloves and a hat was daunting on its own.

When Steve arrived to pick him up, he only had Max in the back seat, and she was practically vibrating with excitement. Not that she would voice it out loud, of course, but Eddie knew she was happy he was tagging along.

“You look good,” Steve sighed, leaning across the center console to press a soft, chaste kiss to Eddie’s lips, filling his stomach with a swarm of butterflies.

“You, too,” Eddie replied, chasing Steve’s lips for another quick kiss before sitting properly and buckling up. They could usually get away with two chaste smooches before Max started gagging noisily in the back seat.

“So, where are the gaggle of children I was warned about?” Eddie asked after Steve started driving, turning in his seat so he could see Max, too.

“We’re meeting them there,” Max replied, staring out her window.

“So their parents can get them all there, but can’t stick around?” Eddie asked and Steve laughed.

“Yep,” he said, and Max huffed.

“You offer to take us every single year, Dad,” she said flatly, for which Steve apparently had no argument.

Once they arrived at the carnival, it only took a few minutes before an entire gaggle of tweens surrounded them, all of them speaking at volumes that had to be against some kind of international law or convention or something. Eddie just stood off to the side, hands shoved deep in his coat pockets as he watched Steve take charge (kind of) and coral the little demons.

“Who’re you?”

Eddie jumped, startled by a voice right in front of him. Looking down, he realized that all of the kids were now staring at him, and he had no idea which one just spoke.

“Uh… Hi, I’m Eddie,” he replied, taking a hand out of his pocket to wave at the kids with just his fingers. Immediately, he put his hand back into his pocket as he realized the air was a bit colder than he had been prepared for.

��You’re Steve’s boyfriend?” the tallest kid asked with complete and utter disbelief in his voice.

“Gee, Wheeler, thanks?” Steve snorted, rolling his eyes skyward.

“He just seems way out of your league—” Mike started to reply before he was cut-off by a sharp elbow to the sternum from Max. “Hey!”

“Alright, children, let’s keep it civil please. We’ve got three hours to kill here, we don’t need to start it off with a fight,” Steve interjected, bodily stepping between Mike and Max. “Where do we want to head first?”

It was at that point that all the kids started talking at once, stumbling over each other. From what Eddie could gather, the kids wanted to split from the adults and do their own thing. There was a lot of back-and-forth, but eventually, they reached an agreement with Steve.

Firstly, they were to stay within the grounds of the carnival. Secondly, he would be calling one of their cell phones every thirty minutes to check on them and if they didn’t answer they immediately lost their adult-free privileges. Thirdly, they were expected to meet Steve and Eddie at the gates of the carnival at five without Steve having to round them up himself.

“You don’t want a chaperon, you have to act like you don’t need one,” Steve had said when they protested.

And that was how Eddie ended up walking around the winter carnival with Steve, just the two of them.

The carnival was a decent size, with several booths of local artisans and artists selling their holiday themed wares, a midway with food trucks galore, a Ferris wheel and merry-go-round, and carnival games. There was plenty to keep them busy for three hours.

However, Eddie quickly discovered that just because the sun felt warm through the window at home, that did not mean it was going to keep him from getting cold after more than thirty minutes outside. Within an hour and a bit, Eddie’s nose, ears, and fingers were chilly, even with his hair down and his hands kept deep in his coat pockets.

But in the end, Eddie found it easy to ignore his discomfort because Steve was smiling so huge and so bright. Eddie would suffer literally anything, even torture, just to see Steve’s grin, whether it was directed at him or not.

Somehow, though, that happy expression was for Eddie, so he would be brave and not complain about the chill. They only had a little more than an hour to go, and at some point, Eddie could buy a hot drink to wrap his cold fingers around. He was fine, perfect even.

As it came up on four, and Eddie was clutching the biggest polar bear stuffie he’d ever seen (Steve won it for him at the game with the basketball hoops), Steve sighed and wrapped an arm around Eddie’s waist. Cuddling into Steve’s warmth, Eddie tilted his head onto Steve’s shoulder as they walked.

“How about we grab some mulled wine?” Steve suggested, turning his head to kiss the top of Eddie’s head and filling his tummy with a furious swarm of butterflies.

“Sounds perfect, big boy,” he replied with a grin, letting Steve lead him to the truck serving the mulled wine. There was a bit of a line, so Steve nodded toward one of the nearby fire pits.

“Grab us a seat?” Steve suggested, and Eddie nodded quickly, more than happy to sit in front of a fire after freezing his dick off for the better part of two hours. When Eddie went to pull away, Steve stopped him. “Goodbye kiss?”

“You’re a sap,” Eddie teased, even as he leaned in and kissed Steve’s smiling lips chastely. “I’m just going, like, ten feet away.”

“You love it,” Steve said as Eddie pulled away, and he was correct. “Your nose is cold,” he added with a grin, and Eddie laughed.

“Yours isn’t much better,” he teased before pulling away and hurrying over to the fire pit, immediately laying his polar bear across the bench to save their seats and holding his hands in the warmth of the fire. It almost hurt, but it also felt really good.

It was only a few minutes before Steve stepped up beside Eddie, leaning close as he offered him one of the little disposable cups. Without hesitation, Eddie stooped to kiss his boyfriend sweetly, grinning when Steve sighed.

“Missed you,” Steve said as he pulled away and beamed at Eddie.

“You were just over there for, like, fifteen minutes,” Eddie replied, his cheeks hot with his blush as butterflies swarmed inside his stomach.

Steve just gave Eddie his most handsome and crooked little grin. “Tell me about it,” he hummed, leaning back in for a quick smooch before holding up Eddie’s mulled wine. “Here’s yours.”

When Eddie finally went to take his cup, their fingers brushed briefly and Eddie made a soft noise at how hot Steve’s fingers felt against his. The other man must have taken his own gloves off while purchasing their drinks.

“What the hell?” Steve asked as his hand flinched away, his expression a bit horrified when his gaze met Eddie’s. “Eds, why are your fingers so cold? How long have they been like this?”

Eddie could feel his cheeks heat with the intensity of his blush, and he shrugged. “Kinda… since we got here?” he said a bit sheepishly and Steve made a small sound of disbelief.

“Are you kidding me? You’ve been giving yourself frostbite and not—I’m rounding up the kids, we’re leaving—” Steve started, and Eddie quickly shook his head.

“No! Don’t! I don’t wanna ruin their fun,” Eddie insisted, and Steve scoffed.

“And you losing your fingers isn’t going to do that?” he asked bitchily, putting a hand on his waist and raising an eyebrow.

“It’s not cold enough for that and you know it,” Eddie replied flatly. “Seriously, Steve, I’m going to be fine. I have a hot drink, a hot fire, and a hot boyfriend. I’ll warm up real quick right here.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed as he considered Eddie’s words and when he opened his mouth to speak, his phone began to ring.

“It’s Max,” he said, frowning a bit as he answered. “Hey! What’s— why’s everyone yelling…? So, no one’s hurt but…? Okay, let me get this straight,” Steve started, smirking a little bit and rolling his eyes at Eddie. “You and Jane are done hanging out with ‘smelly, stupid boys’ but you want me to call in five minutes and end everything early…? What’s in it for me, huh?”

Eddie snorts and sips at his mulled wine, shuffling backward to the bench and scooping his polar bear up into his lap while Steve hummed noncommittally as Max spoke.

“Hmm, I’ll consider your offer closely. Eddie’s been giving himself frostbite this whole time anyway, so I was about to call it anyway,” Steve finally said, ignoring Eddie’s indignant squawk. “Yeah, the butthead didn’t wear any gloves. Do I still have to wait five minutes…? Perfect, we’re at the fire pit near the mulled wine stand… Yeah, the one close to the gates. See you soon.”

Eddie pouted at Steve as he hung-up and sat down next to him. “You didn’t have to do that,” he grumbled, relaxing as Steve wrapped an arm around his shoulders and tugged him closer.

“Hey, Max wanted to be rescued from the boys anyway. If anything, I’m doing her more of a favour than you,” he said flippantly, and Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Sure, whatever,” Eddie said, and within seconds they could hear the noisy approach of the gaggle of preteens.

The ride back to Steve’s was a whirlwind, with Steve insisting on dropping Mike, Lucas, and Dustin off at their homes first, even though they had to circle back on their route to drop Max off at Jane and Will’s house. The moment they dropped Dustin off and it was just the three kids in the back, Eddie immediately understood the inefficient route. Near-silence immediately fell in the car, the only disturbance being the Christmas music quietly playing on the radio as they drove.

“Holy shit, I think my ears are actually ringing,” Eddie commented, and Steve snorted.

“You get used to the shrill din of Mike Wheeler and Dustin Henderson arguing at the top of their lungs,” he replied, and Max scoffed at that.

“No one gets used to that, Dad,” she argued, and Eddie could see her smirk when Jane and Will giggled at that.

Finally, once they were child-free and back at Steve’s house, Eddie felt ready to crash on the couch and maybe pass out for a little nap. But of course, Steve had other ideas.

“Nuh-uh, you froze at the festival I dragged you to, so I’m gonna make sure you get all warmed up,” Steve insisted, dragging Eddie into a kiss that he refused to let Eddie deepen.

Despite Eddie’s best efforts, Steve was apparently on a mission to actually warm him up. It wasn’t just a euphemism for getting Eddie upstairs to his bed or anything like that.

Instead, Steve drew Eddie a bath in the huge soaker tub in the master bathroom, complete with a fancy bath bomb and even fucking candles. To drive home that this wasn’t about sex, Steve kissed him sweetly, chastely and said, “Enjoy your bath. I’ll let you know when dinner’s ready.”

Eddie wasn’t sure how long he was in the tub, luxuriating in the warm, lavender-scented water, before Steve poked his head inside to let him know that dinner was served. But the bath did the trick, warming him to his core and leaving him feeling loose and relaxed. Sleepy almost, but not completely exhausted like he had felt when they got home after the festival.

‘Wait, not home. To Steve’s house,’ Eddie corrected himself internally, getting out of the tub and slipping on the fluffy bathrobe Steve had said he could use while he was over a couple weeks ago. There was also a pair of slippers that Eddie had left by accident when he spent the night months ago that Steve had placed with the robe.

Downstairs, there was a fire going in the fireplace and Steve was setting out two plates of the meal he prepared on the coffee table. Steve had also gotten changed into his own bathrobe at some point, and that had Eddie struggling with the urge to confess his love right then and there.

“What?” Steve asked and Eddie blinked, startled out of his thoughts. He hadn’t realized he was staring, or standing there for so long.

“Nothing, just admiring my amazing boyfriend, that’s all,” Eddie replied with a giant grin, crossing the room and wrapping his arms around Steve’s shoulders to pull him into a kiss. Once again, all of his attempts to deepen the kiss were thwarted until Steve pulled away.

“Eddie,” he warned, his tone light but the scold in it was obvious to Eddie’s ears. “Dinner first.”

“Haven’t you heard the saying, though?” Eddie challenged lightly, grinning against Steve’s lips as he placed another kiss on them. “Life’s short, so eat dessert first?”

“What did I say, Eds?” Steve asked instead, his tone full of that firmness that Eddie found himself craving more and more often.

With a sigh, Eddie replied, “Dinner first.”

“That’s right,” Steve said with a pleased hum as he stepped out of Eddie’s embrace and motioned for him to sit on the couch.

They ate their food in comfortable quiet, nothing but logs crackling in the fireplace breaking the silence of Steve’s living room. Usually, such quiet would be excruciating for Eddie, but with Steve it felt natural, perfect even. Like it was safe. Quiet moments with Steve never made Eddie feel like he had to fill them with chatter or noise like he would with most other people.

By the time they were done eating, Eddie felt so relaxed he was close to dozing off right there on the couch with his plate in his lap.

“Let’s get you upstairs and tucked into bed,” Steve hummed, standing up and holding his hands out to help Eddie to his feet.

“The dishes…” Eddie pointed out, but Steve just kept tugging him along behind him.

“They can stay right there for one night, Eds,” he replied as they climbed the stairs.

It wasn’t long before they were cuddled up under the covers on Steve’s bed, robes and slippers discarded on the floor next to the bed, and holding each other as they kissed softly, sweetly.

“How’re you feeling?” Steve asked quietly without pulling away. “Warmed up?”

“Definitely,” Eddie replied, eyes fluttering as his body lit up under Steve. “Feeling so warm.”

“Mm, I bet,” Steve chuckled, finally deepening their kiss as one of his hands wandered over Eddie’s chest, down his abdomen, and toward his hip. Before Eddie could dream of whining about being teased, Steve shifted his weight and his thigh pressed between Eddie’s legs. At Eddie’s choked off moan, Steve sighed and said, “Yeah, definitely feeling warm now.”

“Stevie, please,” Eddie whispered against Steve’s mouth as he fought the urge to rut against his thigh.

“You’re not too tired, sweetheart?” Steve asked, and Eddie could hear the genuine concern in his voice.

“Never too tired for you, babe,” he replied easily, and he absolutely meant it. Then he sheepishly added, “it might have to be just this, though, if that’s okay?”

“Of course, that’s okay, Eds,” Steve replied, pulling back to meet Eddie’s eyes as he shifted until he was settled between his legs. “So perfect when you tell me your limits, baby.”

The praise hit Eddie hard in the gut, heat pooling south so quickly he felt dizzy with it. Spreading his legs wider to wrap around Steve’s waist, Eddie moaned when they slotted against each other like matching puzzle pieces.

They rocked together like that, lazy and relaxed, making out softly until Eddie was squirming underneath Steve.

“What do you need, baby?” Steve asked in a whisper, rolling his hips a bit more determinedly, dragging a flurry of whimpers out of Eddie’s throat.

“Need t’come,” he gasped, arching against Steve and whining when Steve worked a hand between their bodies and wrapped his fingers around both of them. “Please, Stevie, m’so close.”

“Me too, Eds,” Steve groaned before capturing Eddie’s lips again in a sloppy, hungry kiss. Just when the coil in Eddie’s gut pulled so tight it was almost painful, Steve whispered a gentle, “come for me, sweetheart.”

Just like that, Eddie spilled between them, making a mess of both of their stomachs and Steve’s hand. When Steve didn’t stop his rocking and stroking, Eddie whimpered almost pitifully, begging Steve to come so the exquisite, perfect torture of overstimulation would end. After only a few more strokes, Steve came with a cry so sweet, Eddie felt tears spring to his eyes as he threw his arms around his boyfriend, refusing to let him go.

They held each other, panting and kissing each other sloppily for a long time, just long enough for the mess between them to become tacky and unpleasant.

“I’ll go grab a cloth, okay?” Steve said with a laugh, carefully getting off the bed to avoid smearing anything on the linens or comforters.

Eddie watched his beautiful boyfriend disappear into the ensuite, feeling warm and floaty, taken care of, and treasured. When Steve returned, Eddie knew he was looking up at the man with the sappiest, lovesick gaze if the way Steve’s cheeks turned pink was anything to go by.

“What?” he asked with a little smirk as he carefully wiped the warm cloth over Eddie’s lower abdomen and softened cock.

Taking a deep breath, Eddie replied, “I love you.”

Steve froze and his eyes met Eddie’s with a fierce intensity that would’ve terrified Eddie if a grin didn’t split Steve’s face a second later. It was huge, bright, and absolutely goofy with the way it crinkled the corners of his eyes. It was Eddie’s favourite Steve smile.

“Even though I prefer Christmas over Halloween?” Steve asked in a voice that was so happy that Eddie couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled out of his own chest.

“Hey, you might’ve made a convert out of me,” he confessed, winking at Steve’s shocked gasp.

“Are you serious? I made you a Christmas lover, too?” Steve pressed, tossing the cloth in the general direction of the ensuite so he could lay on top of Eddie.

“Yeah, just as long as I get to spend it with you and Max,” Eddie replied, reaching up to tuck some of Steve’s hair behind his ears. “As long as you and Max still want me around.”

“Well, you’re in luck, Eds, because I intend to keep you as long as you’ll let me,” Steve hummed, dipping his chin to capture Eddie’s lips in a slow, searching kiss before whispering against his lips, “I love you, too.”

And, yeah, Eddie was pretty sure Christmas was going to become his favourite holiday and stay that way for a long time. Maybe even forever if his luck kept up.

[w0rms-w0rms-w0rms]

Tfw you want to write a sequel to your fanfic but also you don’t know if anyone will care enough to read it and you won’t have the motivation to finish it if they don’t

[its-your-mind]

*deep breath in*

the fears 👏 have always 👏 been (in one way or another) 👏 parallel 👏 to 👏 desire 👏

let me explain.

so many of the statements given by actual avatars center around some sort of need that was met by their entity. Lots of them even had a positive relationship with the fear that drove them.

Jane Prentiss is an excellent example - the Corruption has always been about a form of toxic and possessive love, but she personally has a deep desire to be “fully consumed by what loves her,” and finds a perverse joy and relief at allowing herself to be a home

Jude Perry is another - she fucking loved watching people’s lives be utterly destroyed. The Desolation only offered her a power of destruction on a grander scale, and then gave her a more intense rush of joy as she did its work. When she tells Jon that he needs to feed the Eye before it feeds on him, it’s almost as an afterthought; she was happily feeding the Desolation long before it burned her into a new existence.

Simon Fairchild. Every time that old loose bag of bones wanders into the picture, he is having a fucking EXCELLENT time playing with the Vast. He loves showing people their own insignificance, and he loves luring them into situations where he can throw them into the void as he smiles and waves.

Peter Lukas (hell, the whole Lukas family (except Evan. RIP Evan.)) hated. people. all he wanted was for them all to go away, to leave him alone. The Lonely only fulfilled that desire.

Daisy, Trevor, and Julia, all devoted to hunting those things they deemed monstrous.

Melanie, holding tight to that bullet in her leg because on some level, she wanted it. It felt good, it felt right, it felt like it fit right alongside the anger and spite that drove her to success.

Annabelle Cane first encountered the Web when she was a child, running away from home in order to tug on her parents’ heartstrings in just the right way to have them wrapped around her little finger. Later on she volunteered to be the subject of an ESP study. Hell, she’s the one who dangled the “Is it really You that wants this?” question over Jon’s head in S4.

And that brings us to Jon, beloved Jarchivist, the Voice that Opened the Door. Ever since he was a child targeted by the Web, he was looking for answers. He joined the Magnus Institute’s Research Department looking for them, he stalked his coworkers in search for them, he broke into Gertrude’s flat and laptop out of desperation for them. And when he realized that all he had to do was Ask to get truthful answers to his questions? It was only natural for him to jump at that opportunity.

Elias told S3 Jon that he did want this, that he chose it, that at every crossroads he kept pushing onwards, and the inner turmoil that caused was one of the focal points for Jon’s character through the rest of the podcast.

There’s a certain line of thinking in many circles about the power of the Devil: he’s not able to create anything new. All he’s able to do is twist and warp that which was already present, making it something ugly and profane while still maintaining the facade of something desirable.

Jon didn’t choose the Eye. But he did wander into its realm of power, exhibiting exactly the qualities it was most capable of hijacking and warping to its own ends. Jon didn’t choose the Apocalypse. But Jonah picked at him little by little, pointing him towards each Fear individually. Jon didn’t want to release the Fears. But the Web tugged on his strings just so and laid a pretty trail for him to follow until he reached its desired conclusion.

Jon didn’t choose ultimate power, or omniscience, or even his own role as Head Archivist. But he said “yes” to the right (wrong?) orders and kept on pushing for the right (wrong?) answers. He wanted to succeed at the work he had been assigned. He wanted to protect his friends. He wanted to rescue them when they were lost. He wanted to prevent the apocalypse, to save the world. He wanted to know why he was still alive, when so many had died right in front of him.

The Great Wheel of Evil Color that is the Entities might not fit as neatly into categories in this universe - maybe there was no Robert Smirke trying to impose strict categories on emotional experiences, or maybe the ways they manifest in the world has turned on its head (goodness knows many of them have been showcased and blended in some very fun and new and horrifying ways so far) - but their fundamental foundations seem to be the same. Hell, in episode one we learned that there had been enough individual incidents to create a distinction between “dolls, watching” and “dolls, human skin.”

Smirke’s Fourteen isn’t going to be relevant as common parlance, RQ said that already, but I don’t think that means the Fears themselves (and their Dream Logic-based rules) are different - I think it means that the levels of understanding, language used, and personal connections among people “in the know” are going to be entirely unfamiliar

[l-wandering-etranger]

hc that jon and gerry met several times when gerry was alive but neither realised it was the other

•back in jon's research days where it was late and everyone had gone home except for jon who was woeking overtime, exited the institute and realised it was raining and as he was about to go in and wait in his office gerry comes from behind and stops to stare at the rain (he stayed late cause gertrude wanted a report done due tomorrow). jon tells him there is no use staying outside and to wait inside and they make some small talk and Gerry asks jon if he has a cigarette and they share a lighter in the rain and after smoking gerry gives up and runs in the rain to the station while jon just goes back in. neither of them remember this happening because it was dark and both of them were beyond exhausted.

•many fics are done on this but gerry going to a pub where the mechs had a show and he accidently says something out loud while they are performing and jon without breaking character responds in a flirty manner but gerry had to leave when the show ended because The Horrors caught up

•gerry used to ask someone in the library to deliver a really obscure book to the archives and the person receiving the ask used to get really stressed when they couldn't find it and jon who happened to pass by and was friends with them helped them find it because he had toured most of the library or had read the book and later it got delived to gerry by the librarian. this happened a couple more times before gerry gave up and went himself.

•they met in a thrift store where gerry was tracking a lead trying to find a very specific vintage lighter mentioned in a statement and jon was just fa-ing when he found a cool vintage lighter and went to the check out counter meanwhile gerry who was frantically looking for it saw jon casually take it and go out through the door, ran after him in an attempt to stop him only to spot a girl holding a lighter that was exactly like the one in the statement and did a full 180

•a vast avatar attempted to make a meal out of jon by first approaching by hitting on him and proceded to got interepted by a panicked gerry who realised what was happening coming in through the crowded station and slapping the avatar accusing him of cheating on him. the very confused avatar watched a very bewildered jon slowly walk away into the crowd and could do nothing as gerry yelled profanities before also walking away.

jon realises all this happened after he fully comes into his powers and regrets not having enough time with gerry to tell him about this.

[hanilecter]

[skell3]

Mage's Ball

Just a little blurb I did for @occudo 's fantasy AU thing. My writing isn't like... flowery or anything, but it at least put down the start of a brainworm THIS comic gave me. There's more to it but like. I'm really bad at being able to continue/finish fics (I do better at RP) so this is what you get.

It was the middle of the ball, and Tim had been left on his own. By choice, mind you, but he still wasn’t particularly happy about it. Sir Timothy Stoker, knight to Mage Sasha James, had come along to keep an eye on his charge and perhaps… well. He didn’t entirely know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t this. Sasha focused on… Jonathan Sims and his knight, Martin Blackwood. Focused, and chatting so animated about their latest trials and tribulations in the aftermath of the Prentiss incident. Tim was not pleased, and therefore he was incredibly distracted. 

“A knight without his mage- that’s a rare sight. Did they abandon you?” A deep, smooth voice croons in on the knight from nearby.

“My lady can chat without my help.” Tim turns to see who was addressing him, only to find another Mage. “I don’t see a knight by your side either, Lord-” “Delano.” Gerry removed the sheer fabric that had been covering his head to better view this pouting guardian. 

Standing at attention, Tim reached for the mage’s hand to draw the back of it to his lips in greeting. “Sir Stoker. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” His eyes fell to the fabric at the mage’s waist, only for his eyes to be guided up to the bared skin of his chest. Lord Delano had a considerable amount of tattoos; eyes decorated his skin all the way up to the collar at his throat. 

“Likewise,” Gerry responds, smiling at the display. His eyes traced over the knight for possibly the sixth time this evening, having noticed him earlier in the evening. “I never felt the need to employ a bodyguard for myself- way too much work if you ask me.” Pale gaze lifting, it seems like his interest has yet to bring his eyes back up from his chest, and he sighs in amusement. “Also- my eyes are up here, Sir Stoker.”

“With all due respect, they are also down there, my lord.” Tim couldn’t help but find himself mesmerized by them, among… other things. This was a fancy ball and somehow Lord Delano managed to get away with having so much skin exposed. It was daring, it showed off his nature as a Seer Mage, and it was… well. Distracting. Very distracting. Finally, he manages to tear his eyes away from ink and look back up to the other man with a flush across his cheeks. “I think you’re the only one who got away with going casual,” he jokes with a smile. 

“Casual?” The response comes with laughter, Gerry lifting a hand to cover his smile briefly as he turns to glance around the room. He notices Stoker doing the same, and together they take in all the grandeur of the Winter Mage’s Ball. “That would mean some of those here are a bit over-dressed, wouldn’t you think?” The knight’s own lady was in quite a gown, and he watches with a smile as she laughs and converses with her two current companions. He catches the eye of the shorter mage over there, and enjoys the rather disgruntled look he gets out of it. “Want to get away from here for a little bit?” Tim had been distracted again, both to try and not openly ogle at Lord Delano again, but also because those three looked like they were having quite a good time. Over-dressed? His gaze manages to move away to fluffy dresses and gents looking so prim and proper. Plenty to look at, nothing to see. Hearing the laughter, he looked back at the trio just about when Gerry spoke up again. “E-Excuse me?!” Tim sputters, turning to stare at the taller man. Gerry offers him a smile, and then a hand. “My rented quarters aren’t too far, and it looks like she’s well entertained. There are guards posted everywhere and the room is full of mages. I think she is quite safe, and I’ll admit you have me feeling a little under-dressed.” Tim’s eyes are roaming again, but fortunately it was more than just at his chest. He watches the man sputter again, trying to find words for what he wanted, only to get a- “...give me a second, please. If you would?” Tim has to check in at least once, and that was probably the quickest shuffle he has made to Sasha’s side outside of danger. A quick conversation, with no small amount of glaring from Lord Sims, and Lord Delano gets gestured to. More conversation happens, and Lady James nods her head and offers the other Seer Mage a polite bow before returning to her conversation. Tim returned to Gerry’s side shortly after, offering him a bow of his own. “My services are yours for the evening, My Lord.”

“Well. I’m going to have to get you to say that a few more times while I have you, then,” Gerry muses. He beckons for Stoker to follow, turning to head for the exit doors that would lead them outside. “Come along, then, Sir Stoker.”

[rauchendesgnu]

"Would you like a seat?" Gerry asks over his shoulder as Sam follows him deeper into the apartment. "Only if it isn't a bother," Sam says despite the throbbing in his hip. "Oh, it's no problem at all. Let me just--" The young goth rushes ahead into some sort of studio, clearly expecting Sam to follow. Every spot in the room is either occupied with a painting, or painted on, or splattered, or filled with utensils, tools, and other stuff that is necessary for art. Gerry sweeps a pile of pencil sketches from a chair and offers it to Sam, who sits gratefully, eyes still wandering over the atelier in overwhelmed amazement. "I can make some tea?" Gerry offers. "Oh," Sam says with an awkward smile. "I'm more one for coffee." "Do you mind if I make one for myself, then?" "No, go ahead." The sounds of an electric kettle being filled and switched on reaches Sam, whose eyes fall onto the sketches. He leans a bit closer to get a better look. It's not very polite, to go snooping into the drawings of a potential friend, but he can't help himself. He's always been so damn curious. The first sketch shows a short, thin man with dark hair that is starting to go grey despite his young but tired face. His brown skin is covered in scars and his eyes are glowing. Sam blinks, and for a second he feels like the drawing blinks back at him. He quickly moves the sketch to the bottom of the stack and shakes his head. It's the sleep deprivation. He's not starting to see movement in traditional sketches. The next few sketches show the same man, over and over again, eyes blazing, mouth set in a thin line, exhaustion weighing down a face that could once have been called handsome. He's not the only one, though. There's a second man, tall and broad, with red hair and a dusting of freckles on his nose and cheeks. He's barely recognisable in the fog that surrounds him that gets thicker with every new sketch Sam discovers. The last one is that of a man who wouldn't have looked out of place in Pride and Prejudice (as written by Cassandra Austen), with a neatly pressed collar and a cravat, as well as jewellery in the form of eyes. His grey eyes are intense, piercing Sam through the page. Sam is about to put the sketches back when a piece of paper slips, and his heart stops. The woman on the paper is a detailed pencil drawing of Celia. It's almost scary how perfect that sketch catches her likeness. Surely Gerry would have needed more than one look at her to draw her so realistically? Sam fights the wave of jealousy that wants to overtake him. It's none of his business who Celia meets in her free time. There is only that one sketch of her, and as Sam finds the last page, he's a bit disappointed to discover that there is just two sentences scribbled in nearly illegible handwriting.

The maze is sharp on my mind. The angles cut me when I try to think.

They are underlined with so much force that the pencil nearly broke through the paper. In the kitchen, the kettle turns off, and Sam quickly places the pages back in order. "Gerry," he says when his host returns, mug of tea in hand, "who are these people you sketched?" Gerry glances over his shoulder, then shrugs. "Now that you say it...I have no idea. These are from a while ago. Why, did I accidentally draw someone you know?" He says it with a smile, like it's a joke between artists. Did I accidentally draw you? Sam's gaze drifts back over the man with the glowing eyes. "I don't know," he says softly. "I don't know."

[michaelmylove]

the curse of your favorite ships being gay men but are only able to draw women </3

[waystarresourceco]

Brian Cox on Logan going to see Sands and on Willa. (x)

[steves-strapcollection]

47. “When I picture myself happy… It’s with you.” 💕💕

YES! I'm still working on asks from THIS ask game, and I absolutely will be happy to receive more (since I'm using these prompts as exercises to write short shit without context to overcome my pathological need to write So Much Context)

[ NOW ON AO3 ]

There was something distinctly heartbreaking about playing wingman for the guy who made you believe in the entire concept of soulmates, Eddie thinks as he leans against the trunk of Steve Harrington's Beemer. It's not even that he thinks they're soulmates, but what the dude has with Robin is really convincing. And maybe Eddie is pretty sure Steve is his soulmate, even platonically, even if that thought makes his pining ass want to vomit.

He refuses to pine after a straight man for eternity, and yet...

What's stupid is that Eddie is a shit wingman, so it doesn't even make sense that Steve keeps taking him out with him to bars and shit. Half the women that wanted to even approach Steve were afraid of Eddie, and the other half were fucking mean to him which lost Steve's favour immediately which... hey, Eddie couldn't complain too much about that.

But still, that meant that Steve was striking out every single time and Eddie was feeling bad about it because he was happy about it. He got to spend a whole evening with Steve and sometimes they would spend the night together because Eddie's place was closer and Steve was too tired to drive all the way home. Eddie could pretend this was a real date, that Steve Harrington was dating him.

Jesus H. Christ, he was pathetic.

Steve sighs next to him. "Why is this so hard?" he asks, and at Eddie's questioning look, Steve elaborates, "Dating, getting laid, whatever you wanna call it?"

Eddie huffs a laugh, and shrugs. "Well, I mean, I think I've got it worse in that department, Stevie," he mutters, taking a drag of his cigarette. Steve's known about him being gay for months now, which makes it even more wild that the man still shared a bed with him and took him out to bars almost every Friday night. Tossing his cigarette onto the asphalt and stubbing it out with his boot, Eddie asks, "What are you even looking for?"

Steve pauses, staring at the ground. "Someone who makes me happy, who gets me, who wants to be with me, the real me, y'know?" he asks without even looking at Eddie, which is good because Eddie's sure the way his heart was breaking would be visible from fucking outer space.

Me, that's me, Stevie. Choose me. That's what Eddie wants to say, to shout and scream and even stomp his feet a bit because it's not fucking fair. He's all those things and more and he wanted to be that for Steve.

"Think you might be putting too high of standards too early on these poor girls, Stevie," Eddie laughs instead, grinning crookedly over at Steve and stopping short at the intense gaze being leveled back at him.

"See, that's the thing, Eds. I'm starting to think I've been looking for that in all the wrong places," Steve says seriously, shifting so he's standing in front of Eddie.

And Eddie is sure he's dreaming. He's actually fast asleep and he's going to wake up literally any second and this was all just some terrible dream thought up by his awful, gay, pining, stupid brain. Because it actually sounds like Steve, the love of Eddie's life, is about to confess something huge to him.

"What makes you say that?" Eddie croaks out before clearing his throat, glancing at Steve's lips before meeting his eyes.

"I've always had these big dreams about my life, what it'd look like if I wanted to be happy, and before I always thought of these grand things that involve a wife and a whole pack of kids," Steve says and Eddie feels his already shattered heart break even more.

Eddie manages to laugh, though, even if what he really wants is to crawl into bed and cry. "Okay, so now you're raising the bar even higher on these poor girls?" Eddie asks, shoving Steve's shoulder with his fist.

Steve isn't swayed. "You don't get it, Eds, that's not what I want anymore," he says, running his hands back through his hair. "That isn't what I imagine when I think about being happy."

"Then what do you imagine?" Eddie asks because, apparently, he's a huge fucking masochist.

"Eds... you're really going to make me say it out loud?" Steve asks, almost teasingly, and then he steps just a little bit closer.

Eddie's heart stops, once again struck by how not real this has to be. "Yeah, I'm gonna need you to say it with your outside voice, Stevie," Eddie says. "I'm not a mind reader."

Steve sighs heavily and puts his hands on his hips as he visibly considers his next words carefully. Something comes over his expression that takes Eddie's breath away, something fierce and brave and beautiful, and now the full force of it was turning on him when Steve's eyes meet his.

"When I picture myself happy," Steve starts, stepping close enough that the heat radiating off of him begins to warm Eddie's chilled skin. Steve lifts a hand to cup Eddie's jaw as he says, "It's with you, Eds."

Eddie blinks owlishly at Steve. "What?"

"I think I'm--I've been into you for months, and when you came out to me I got so hopeful, like I actually maybe stood a chance, which is obviously stupid. Just because you're gay doesn't mean you're into me but still," Steve rambles a bit as Eddie tries to form a coherent thought. Steve chews on his bottom lip and asks, "Eds? What do you--is this, like, okay?"

Eddie slaps himself in the face, just hard enough to sting, and Steve jumps.

"Eddie, what the hell?" Steve asks, bewildered.

"Sorry, just checking that I'm not dreaming. Pinching wouldn't've been enough to wake me up from a dream this good," Eddie breathes, twisting his hand in the front of Steve's polo and pulling him close. "You mean that, Stevie? You want me?"

"More than I've wanted anything in my life," Steve confesses easily, and he stumbles when Eddie gently shoves him back.

"Then take me home and we can make out about it in private, yeah?" Eddie suggests, grinning as he scrambles to get into the passenger seat of the Beemer.

When Steve gets into the car, he's grinning, and Eddie leans across the center console. "One kiss for the road?" he asks, batting his lashes up at Steve.

"Absolutely," Steve agrees, and then their mouths slotted together perfectly, like they were made to be kissing each other all along.

And yeah, Eddie was really starting to believe in soulmates actually...

Thank you again for sending me this ask!!! Send me more of these fun prompts? Also, if you like my writing, please consider checking out writing blog -> @gerrystamour

[w0rms-w0rms-w0rms]

When your fic outlines read like someone rambling about a gay TV show, you know it’s a good one.

[sarcastic-positivity]

I need more Tim and Gerry content ao3 is failing me

[robyn-i-guess]

gerrymichael enjoyers and writers i want your opinion 🎤

ok so i have this au fic for gerrymichael where it's college au, and it's a like the whole bad boy/good girl (minus the fact they're both boys, and even that's questionable)

basically, gerry is stereotyped due to his more alternative looks and everyone assumes he's probably doing illegal things or just sleeps around a lot

meanwhile michael is the head of student council "goody two shoes" type, who most are sort of aware of but don't know anything about

gerry thinks about michael. a lot. he sees them in the halls for only a few seconds a day but thinks about him for a lot longer. hallway crush vibes. and when they get put into a painting class together, suddenly they have an opportunity to meet, and gerry is freaking out a usual amount. (there's more to the whole plot but that's just the beginning bit)

putting a short lil concept thing under the cut

Gerard Keay does not know Michael Shelley.

The only reason he knows their name is because they're in the student council, meaning it's not uncommon for their name to be said during school events.

He has only seen them in hallways, passing by in a rush while holding papers or books that always seem like they're going to fall out of their hands. Even in those moments, most of what Gerard is able to catch is a blur of golden curls and eyes that are ridden with exhaustion.

So, it is safe to say that he does not know Michael.

That fact only caused confusion to him whenever Gerard realized his strange excitement once learning that Michael would be in one of his classes for the semester.

It was an art class, one that he had picked due to him already being practiced is painting and drawing. He assumed it would be a fun class, or at least one that wouldn't be too stressful. However, when he had first walked into that classroom and saw Michael Shelley sitting at an area in the back, Gerard had assumed the emotion he was feeling was stress. He couldn't pinpoint why, it wasn't like he was intimidated by their status, but he couldn't shake the feeling of nervousness he felt when he accidentally locked eyes with them. He turned his head quickly in that moment, deciding to sit in the front of the room despite that not being where he'd usually prefer to be. Something about Michael sitting there made Gerard think twice about sitting in the back as he normally would.

The lecture went smoothly, it mostly being an introduction to the professor and what would be happening throughout the classes. So did the next, and then the next one after that. That didn't get rid of the feeling he felt, however, every time that Gerard walked into that room and attempted to avoid looking at the one with golden curls in the back. He knew he'd have to talk to them at some point, it was inevitable, but there was something about them that meant he was more nervous to talk to them than he usually would be. And he very much denied the idea that it could be caused by any... feelings he may have. Gerard ruled it as impossible, as he had never spoken to them, and he wasn't that much of an idiot to fall for someone he'd only mostly seen in hallways.

Michael wasn't one to speak up in class, and instead they'd work silently on any research on the history of art they may have been doing, only giving simple responses or nods when the professor would come around and ask how their work was coming along. When Gerard thought about it, he didn't really know what their voice sounded like because it was always quiet or unintelligible from their distance. That only made him more interested in talking to them.

That day never came, though, much to Gerard's disappointment.

They both went through that class without talking to each other once, and when Gerard left that room for the last time he couldn't help but feel like he had failed at some kind of goal. A failure that had meant he would be left with only seeing the elusive Michael Shelley in hallway rushes again, which annoyed him in a way he didn't understand.

He did talk to them one day, though.

(note this is old as heck lmao i've gotten better at writing since i wrote this)

anyways yeah. should i continue it or is it too basic idk, i want to write it for me but it would also be multiple chapters long and my "1k-words-is-rare-for-me" self probably won't bother to write it unless someone else is interested

[trans-jon-rights]

AAAAAAAAA I FORGOT TO POST THE ILLUSTRATION !

This is for Chapter 8 of my fic !! Go read please I put a lot of time in it

[savetheupholstery]

Jon started working for the institute in 2011 and Gerry met and started working with Gertrude in 2013 (according to the wiki) this means that Gerry and Jon very likely could have crossed path at some point or multiple points