#Happy birthday Lex!

[anthotneystark]

One taste of your life (And I own your soul)

So I heard it was @thefreakandthehair's birthday and then I finished writing this, so Lex this is basically just for you now!

The day starts like any other.

He wakes up screaming, shaking, a cold sweat trailing down his spine. He takes a few minutes to pull himself together, reminds himself it’s all over, ignores the feeling of heavy, dark air on his skin. He ignores the sound of screaming in his head, the tightness in his chest. Before he’s really ready, but after he should already have been moving, he pushes himself up and drags himself into his routine.

He showers, feels like he’s trying to scrub the fear and pain off of himself, and hopes that one day that will actually work. He catches himself looking around as he gets dressed, an uneasy feeling prickling at the back of his neck. It’s the feeling of being watched. But there’s no one in his room, so he shakes it off and moves on.

He has his morning phone call with Robin as they both make breakfast. His heart aches at the thought of her being so far away, just the same as he knows hers does, but he’d refused to let her put off school just because he wasn’t ready to leave yet. She comes back when she can, he’s made trips to visit her, but it’ll never feel right until they can live in the same place again. He won’t make her feel bad for getting out, not when he wanted her to, not when he’s so happy that she’s out there doing things she loves and having fun.

When it’s time, when he can leave too, they’ll get a place together and never have to be apart again.

For now though, instead of gossiping during a morning car ride, he tells her all the drama she’s missing out on and lies about how he’s definitely eating over the sink so his bagel crumbs are contained.

When she has to go, her classes beckoning, he lets her go and tells her he’ll update her with the next schedule his boss puts out. He’s on days right now, but he’s hoping he’ll be on nights soon.

With Robin gone, and Family Video destroyed back in March, he hasn’t bothered to go back into the rental business. He opted to follow a different career path, and with the amount of people who fled the town, the fire department had gladly taken him on. Turns out, for someone who likes to take care of people and is willing to take on tasks like herding a group of rambunctious pre-teens, being a paramedic has been the perfect fit.

He throws on his uniform, laces up his boots, and ignores that feeling pricking at the back of his neck as he walks to his car. He looks around, but it’s a calm day. There’s barely a breeze in the trees; the leaves are still, the world is quiet.

There’s no one there.

The drive is easy, navigating the new roads built from his house to the center of town. Once everything started being rebuilt, mostly by the people who were convinced it was worth it to stay, things settled down. With the cracks in the earth closed up, with homes rebuilt, it looked almost like nothing had happened.

He lost count of how many times he wished nothing had happened.

He let himself get lost in the boredom of no emergencies throughout the day, let himself be distracted by the adrenaline of people needing help. There’s a kitchen injury on Maple Street, a ladder incident on Avalon Court, even a legitimate kitten in a tree call just down from the high school. Being the youngest, and thus the one thrown into the grunt work more often than not, he’d been sent on up to get it. It wasn’t his first kitten rescue, not with more than a few displaced pets, but the kitten only scratched him a little as he pulled it into his arms.

Back on the ground, kitten back in the arms of its person, he’d made quick work of cleaning up the blood that welled up on his hand. His movements stilled as he went to bandage it, his eyes darting up, looking around but seeing no reason for the hair on the back of his neck to stand up. He brushed the feeling aside.

There was no reason to be on edge.

If anyone had asked him back in high school, he’d have said that 24 hours was a long time, plenty of time.

If anyone had asked him after he found out monsters were real, he’d have said 24 hours was an eternity when the chips were down.

If anyone had asked him today, he’d say 24 hours is a blink, a breath, it’s nothing, a blip of time that only carries meaning once it’s over, once you can feel the loss of it.

Loss or not, he’s more relieved when it’s over and he can go home again. The feeling has stuck with him, the hair on the back of his neck, the on edge, the vigilance. It happens, he’s aware, but he’s also aware that today he’s just being dramatic, just being paranoid. As he waits for his shift to end, his 24 hours nearly up, he watches the bats finish their hunt in the almost-dawn light. They’re a mix of swooping and flailing, graceful and clumsy, and not for the first time, he thinks of a boy who was the same.

He thinks of curly hair and a devilish smile, kind eyes and loud laughter. He thinks of rough hands and the gentle curl of smoke from his lips.

It’s not the first time he’s stolen his thoughts and made his heart ache, and it won’t be the last.

The sting lessens the fear that’s shadowed him all day, and he looks up at the approaching dawn with the phantom hand on his shoulder.

The alarm doesn’t ring in the time he’s got left. He shares the easy camaraderie he has with his team, familiar but not family, because even if he doesn’t love them like his kids, he has to love them enough to have his back when they’re out on the truck. Trusting them enough is easy, he’s used to relying on partnerships and love has always come too easily to him.

But that love isn’t the same as what he’s built through much more real dangers. They know him, but they don’t know him enough to see the struggle of pulling on a smile. They know how to read him in the smoke but they don’t know how to read the emotions he shoves down under bravado and jokes.

It’s fine, they don’t need to. But knowing they can’t does nothing to ease the ache and alarm under his skin.

His whole drive home, he sees shadows out of the corner of his eye. A fleeting movement there. A noise here. He doesn’t run from his car into the safety of his home, he knows better. He knows what lurks in the shadows.

As he steps through the door, the feeling fades, vanquished by the safety of a space that’s his. He slips out of his uniform, puts off doing laundry for later, and drops into the couch in nothing but his undershirt and boxers. He closes his eyes and flicks on the TV, the sound just loud enough to drown out the noise of a creature approaching.

Without warning, with only the briefest sense of alarm flaring up, a small weight comes out of nowhere and lands squarely on his chest.

He doesn’t flinch.

Instead, he lifts his head, lifts an eyebrow, and pulls on his most unimpressed look.

“If I was standing, I’d be doing the Mom Pose.”

The bat, fluffy and almost too dark, just chirps happily at him before crawling up to hide in the crook of his neck.

He doesn’t try to move it.

It doesn’t take much longer for that telltale poof-flash-pop of time and space and whatever else is involved in the transformation, and then he’s left not with a clingy flying rodent, but a clingy metalhead with too-sharp teeth and an unusual diet.

Eddie yawns and settles into his side, nosing at his neck until Steve sighs and tilts his head away.

“You didn’t get enough mosquitos this morning? Or throughout the day when you were following me around?”

“How did you know I was following you around?”

“Survival instinct, I felt you,” Steve retorts. He feels Eddie’s grin against his neck before the sharp sting of his fangs, the sticky-warm feeling of pleasure kicking in moments later. A moan escapes him, but he’s long since given up on being ashamed of enjoying this moment too. Eddie doesn’t take much before his tongue is sealing up the wounds, pulling off of him with a wet pop.

“I’ll have to work on being sneakier then,” Eddie says, using Steve’s blissful relaxation to turn his head toward him, stealing a kiss much the same as he’d stolen lunch; with zero complaints and Steve wholeheartedly on board.

“You do that,” Steve laughs, the words muffled against Eddie’s lips. His own yawn interrupts the next kiss, but he doesn’t need to worry about being too tired. It’s a perfect excuse for Eddie to scoop him up and carry him to bed. The curtains are pulled closed, the covers pulled back, and there, in a bed that felt hostile just 24 hours earlier, Steve sinks into the safety of a man who any sane person would be terrified of just by reputation alone.

There, in arms that are stronger than any human, looking up into eyes that are red when the light hits them just right, Steve lets himself surrender into the sleep that calls his name. There are no screams in his head now, just whispered words about hobbits and dwarves and an adventure that Steve never manages to stay awake to hear in full. That’s okay though, Eddie will read those words to him as many times as needed, with a devilish smile and the occasional curl of smoke from his lips, with rough hands so gently brushing through locks of chestnut hair.

All is right with his world, the weight in his heart has lightened, and there’s no need to be afraid.

Posted on Ao3 too!

[withacapitalp]

@thefreakandthehair

Dearest Lex! First of all, happy birthday <3 People like you are once in a lifetime, and I'm so so grateful we've become friends. I tried to pull together a little surprise, I'm sure someone else has already posted theirs, but I scheduled mine to be here bright and early!!

For anyone not in the loop who wants to do something for Lex DM me!!

Link to Ao3

Eddie had never exactly had the best track record with birthdays. 

When he had been couch surfing with his mom and dad, there wasn’t exactly time for setting up a birthday party, or money for cake and presents. If he was lucky, his mom would get him a cheap toy car, or a lollipop that she swiped from the gas station — little ways to make the day special. She tried, she really did, but that was mostly at the start.

By ten, she seemed to have forgotten her son even had a birthday, too lost in the drugs to see him waiting for her to notice. Hell, there were even some years where he himself completely missed it. They would pass by somewhere, and Eddie would offhandedly see the date, realizing with a jolt that his birthday had passed days or weeks ago and nothing had changed. 

He hated those years most of all. 

But…but today was his thirteenth birthday. 

He was turning thirteen today, and he was finally in a place he could really call home. He was turning thirteen, and for the first time, Eddie wanted to let himself hope. He let himself day dream about a party with balloons and a cake littered with bright candles. He had thought endlessly about how Thirteen was going to be great, the best year yet. His year. 

Eddie had, foolishly, let himself think that things might be better now. After all, Wayne had been nothing but kind to him so far, always wanting to know what Eddie thought and listening when he told wild long winded stories. Wayne was good, and he seemed like the type to make birthdays something special. 

He woke up that morning, hope starting to stir in his chest, and it instantly vanished when he threw his arm out to wake his uncle, only to find that the other side of the bed was cold. 

Uncle Wayne wasn’t in the room they shared, and when Eddie wandered out, there was a post-it note on the fridge saying that he switched to the day shift, and he wouldn’t be home till 7:00 tonight. 

No cake, no presents, not even a card. He hadn’t even written Happy Birthday on the note. 

He tried not to be disappointed, tried to reason with himself, because Uncle Wayne might not have even known it was his birthday. He hadn’t even known Eddie existed until a few months ago, how could he know when his birthday was?

But there was a wrathful sad creature writhing in his chest, pressing down on that old wound and making it reopen, telling Eddie that if Wayne actually did love him, he would have known. He would have cared enough to ask. 

It wasn’t fair to think that way. His Uncle cared plenty. He had taken Eddie in, given him a home, shared his room and his food and his life when didn’t have to, and Eddie wanted to be grateful for all of that. He was grateful for all of that. 

He just also wanted Thirteen to be different. 

The rest of the day was the same. Eddie went through school in a daze, barely paying attention to his classes or the assholes all around that liked to make fun of him. No one wished him well, or asked how he felt to be thirteen, and he was almost kind of glad for that. 

Because thirteen felt the way that twelve did. It felt the way eleven, ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, and four did too. 

Thirteen sucked. 

By the time he got out of class and back to the trailer park, it was getting hard to hold back the tears pressing at his eyes. He lept into the trailer and shut the door with a bang, hitting his back against the door and sliding down. He collapsed onto the floor in a heap, sniffling and pressing his palms against his eyes, trying to make them stop before they started. 

Eddie had always been a crybaby. It was something his father had absolutely detested about him, something he had tried to beat out of his son time and time again. Those attempts had only made Eddie cry more, which made his father angrier, which started a vicious cycle, which led to scars and nightmares and all of the things Eddie just wanted to forget about. 

This wasn’t how Thirteen was supposed to be. He wasn’t supposed to be thinking about the bad things, he wasn’t supposed to be upset. 

“Why’re you cryin’ kiddo?” 

Eddie immediately startled at the unexpected voice, jumping with a gasp and accidentally smacking his head against the metal door. Now he was really crying, holding the back of his head with both hands and choking on cut off sobs. 

Wayne shot up from his easy chair and dashed over. He lifted his arm, probably only intending to help Eddie up, or check the back of his head for a lump. 

That wasn’t what Eddie saw. Eddie saw a hand raised his way, and tears on his cheeks, and knew he was about to get punished again for being a stupid crybaby. He flinched back, ducking his head between his legs and waiting. 

But no hand ever came. No screaming, no pain. Nothing. Hesitantly, Eddie lifted his head up, watching his uncle with fearful eyes. 

Wayne was still as a statue, his arms at his sides. There was a funny look on his face, a strangled kind of shock that looked uncomfortable. Eddie uncurled from his ball, lowering his arms and wrapping them around his knees loosely. 

“‘M sorry,” He mumbled, humiliated. This was really turning out to be his worst birthday ever. Wayne chewed on the inside of his cheek for a minute before slowly lowering himself down to the floor, groaning as his knees cracked loudly in the quiet trailer. 

“You don’t got to apologize,” Wayne said once he was on the ground. Eddie knew that was true. This wasn’t the first time they had done this particular song and dance, but it was the worst time. Wayne told him the same thing every time- he didn’t have to apologize. 

Eddie still felt the need to. 

“Sorry,” He repeated, cringing as the word flew out of his mouth. Wayne sucked a deep breath in and let it out in a long sigh, looking around as he contemplated his words. 

“Does it help you if I say I’m not angry with you?”

Eddie paused, considering. Whenever Wayne said he didn’t have to apologize, Eddie always felt like he needed to apologize for apologizing. It was silly, and confusing, and made his heart race. 

But the thought of knowing that Wayne wasn’t upset made his heart beat just a little bit slower, so Eddie nodded hesitantly. Wayne nodded back, clicking his tongue once and looking Eddie right in the eye, forcing him to look back. 

“Then I’m not angry with you. Not even a little bit, Eds,” Wayne said carefully, making sure every word was heard. 

It was the little nickname that really made Eddie’s shoulders start to relax. Wayne had started calling him that the third or fourth day after his arrival, and, every time he did it, Eddie felt just a little bit safer. 

Wayne let Eddie calm down a bit more, watching him brush away any lingering tears and take long shaking breaths. Then, when he was sure Eddie wasn’t going to fall apart again, he repeated his initial question in a soft, unexpectedly gentle, tone. 

“Why were you cryin’?”

Eddie’s cheeks flushed, and he ducked his head. Now that it was over, he felt ridiculous for falling apart like that. It was such a silly thing to get so upset over, and Wayne didn’t need to know. 

“I thought you had a shift?” Eddie said, changing the subject while smoothly avoiding the question.

“Got Gordie to take the last three hours. I wanted to be home to surprise you,” Wayne replied. 

A blinding rush of hope stabbed Eddie directly in the chest. He despised it for still existing, for not being beaten down by the reality of the life he had lived. Through all of it, he still had hope, he still wanted to believe something better was coming. 

Maybe that was stupid. Maybe it was brave. Maybe it was the only thing keeping Eddie alive at this point. He dropped his gaze to the floor between them, trying to gather up his courage. 

“Why?” Eddie whispered, unable to look up in case he was wrong. 

It was quiet. It was quiet for a long time. Eddie didn’t move, didn’t dare to even breathe too much. He couldn't until he heard the answer. 

“...It’s your birthday, kiddo,” Wayne said, each word coming out slow and measured, “You know that, right?”

Wayne knew. 

Wayne knew, and he had taken time off, even though they needed the money badly. He had given up those precious few hours just to be here for him. Just because he wanted to. 

The lump that had begun to ease out of his throat grew three times as big. 

“Then why’re you so surprised that I’d wanna be here?” Wayne wondered, sounding confused, but also sad. Guilt began to bloom in his stomach, but Eddie couldn’t bear the thought of lying right now. 

“Didn’t think you knew,” Eddie mumbled, feeling his lashes starting to stick together. The unspoken ‘didn’t think you cared’ sat heavy in the air between them. 

Eddie dropped his head between his knees again, hating himself for thinking badly about Wayne. His uncle had done nothing but care for him this entire time, making sacrifice after sacrifice, and Eddie had really thought he would do something as terrible as this? What kind of person was he? 

Wayne, unaware of Eddie’s internal battle, spoke slowly, taking his time with each word the way he always did. 

“Got it out of the paperwork your social worker sent me,” Wayne said, hesitating for a second before lowering his voice into a whisper before asking his next question. 

“Is that what got you all upset?”

This is where it would be smart to lie. 

If it was his father, Eddie would have lied. 

If it was mother, Eddie would have lied. 

If it was anyone but Wayne, Eddie would have lied. 

Instead, he gave the tiniest nod he possibly could, taking the risk of falling and hoping his uncle was serious about wanting to catch him. 

Wayne sighed heavily, and Eddie raised his head just enough to watch as his uncle shook his head and got to his feet, only walking a few steps before coming to sit next to Eddie by the door. 

“I’m sorry. I thought about wakin’ you when I left, but I wanted to let you sleep. I should’ve done that, and I apologize,” Wayne said, lowering his arm around Eddie’s shoulders and tugging him in for a sideways hug. 

It always amazed Eddie how quickly Wayne would apologize for things. He had never heard his father say he was sorry, but Wayne did it all the time. If Eddie’s toast was too crunchy, if he was late coming home, every time he thought he misstepped, he said he was sorry. For all the little things, and all the big things too. 

It was strange, but it was probably the thing he liked most about living with Wayne. With Wayne, Eddie wasn’t always the one who had done the wrong thing. 

“But I had a plan, if you wanted?” Wayne offered, and Eddie nodded his head against Wayne’s shoulder, still not ready to talk. 

“Well, I figured we could grab a slice or two, ‘n go to the movies. See that new one you were talkin’ about? Salem’s Somethin’? Thought you might like to see your first official PG 13 movie together,”

“That sounds nice,” Eddie whispered, the smallest trace of a smile gracing his face as Wayne grinned when he spoke. 

“Yeah, then after I uh I got you a cupcake? You said you like red velvet, so I tried to get a cake, but the bakery only did cupcakes. I got a chocolate one for me, but I have a candle you can put in it.” Wayne continued, pointing over to the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. There was a pink box sitting there, tied tightly with white twine that came together in a pretty bow on the top. 

Eddie couldn’t even remember talking about his favorite kind of cake with Wayne. But Wayne remembered, and the thought of that flooded him with warmth from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. 

He let his legs slide out straight, sitting right next to his uncle’s. His feet only reached about three quarters of the way down his uncle’s calves, but Wayne swore that would change soon. He liked to call Eddie a ‘bean pole in the making’ and that always made him laugh. 

“Oh, and I got a present for ya,” 

“A present?” Eddie wondered aloud, amazed. The movie and pizza was already so much, and the cupcake was even more. Weren’t those his presents? 

“Yeah. Go wait on the couch and close your eyes, alright? Didn’t get a chance to wrap it,” Wayne instructed, briefly stopping to ruffle Eddie’s curls before walking down the hallway to their room. 

Eddie stood on slightly shaky legs, walking over to the couch in a daze and sitting in the corner. He closed his eyes, letting the darkness take his vision as he waited, unable to guess what his present might be. 

He heard Wayne walk back over, and something heavy was placed in his lap. It was big, really big, and Eddie’s leg began to bounce in anticipation. 

“Okay, you can open ‘em,” Wayne said, and Eddie’s eyes flashed open. 

There was a guitar case in his lap. 

A real life, genuine, honest to god, guitar case. 

Eddie stared at it with big bug eyes, every single thought rushing out of his head as fast as they could go. He lifted one trembling hand and put it on the hard plastic, feeling the scratches and grooves with his fingers as he stared down at it. 

It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

He lifted it out of his lap, and stood up. Wayne stepped back, and Eddie kneeled down, feeling for the latches and lifting them. The guitar was somehow even better than the case. It was a soft amber wood acoustic, with a few stickers adorning the bottom, and strings that were just starting to fray at the top. 

It was perfect. Absolutely perfect. 

“Dean, my manager at the plant? He said he was lookin’ to get a new one, so I convinced ‘im to sell me this one. ‘S a little old, and he said it’ll be finicky, but it’s a good starter guitar. Thought you might like to make some music, seein’ as you listen to so much of it,” Wayne explained. 

That was a lot more talking than he was used to from his uncle. When Eddie looked up with a wide eyed expression, still unable to speak, Wayne’s strange bout of nerves vanished. 

“I know it ain’t much,” Wayne started, hunching in his shoulders, “But-”

“I love it,” 

That was Eddie’s voice, but he didn’t think he had spoken. The words weren’t good enough. They would never be good enough. No words would ever be able to even start to explain how Eddie was feeling. He stood up and wrapped his arms tight around his uncle’s middle, burying his face in the man’s chest and trying to hide the treacherous tears that had escaped once more. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,” Eddie whispered endlessly, wishing that there was something better to say. 

Wayne seemed shocked, but he recovered quickly, patting Eddie on the back. 

“C’mon now,” Wayne muttered, probably embarrassed by the outburst. Eddie didn’t care. He squeezed even tighter, trying to convey everything he could with a hug, because words were pale in comparison. 

Wayne finally resolved to just let Eddie get this out, sighing and wrapping his arms around the boy’s shoulders. 

“Alright. You’re alright now,” Wayne whispered, putting his chin on the top of Eddie’s head, knowing he couldn’t do that for very much longer. 

And Eddie believed him. For the first time he let himself think things were going to get better without being afraid. 

[lunarshadow04]

Still working on finals this weekend so no need cuphead art yet, but it was my friends birthday yesterday!

Here are some sketches I did of their characters (plus me and them in suits and top hats)

[stevesbipanic]

Happy birthday @thefreakandthehair thank you for being amazing! 🌌

Eddie thinks he could spend forever tracing Steve's skin. His smooth but strong shoulders, his rough and scarred sides that match his own. The dimples on his cheeks when he smiles, the creases in his eyes when he laughs. But Eddie's favourite is all his freckles and moles.

There was a pair on his neck that Eddie loved to kiss and pretend he was a vampire just to make Steve giggle. The smattering of freckles that decorated his nose in the summer when they took the kids to the quarry. The ones on each cheek to kiss goodbye on his way to work.

The dots that would trail down his back and up his thighs that were just for Eddie to see in the early mornings and late at night. The constellations he'd trace when the nightmares wouldn't let him rest.

His very favourite were the three right across his heart, where Eddie would lay his head to listen to the steady beat and remind himself that they're both still here.

When the two of them moved in together Eddie wanted to get a tattoo to mark the occasion. He told Steve he wanted it to be a surprise but that he hoped he liked it.

"As long as it's not of my face I'm sure I'll love it, Eds."

"No artist could capture your beauty, sweetheart."

Eddie was jittering with excitement once Steve returned home that evening.

"Ok, calm down, show me what you got."

Eddie lifted his shirt to reveal three small stars connected across his heart. Steve would recognise them anywhere.

"Now I can keep my starry night close wherever I go."

[hipsternumbertwo]

[flowercrowngods]

✨🤍 some steddie softness for @thefreakandthehair's birthday, i hope it's the very best so far! 🤍✨(please please your day comes first, read this whenever you have time and space to breathe 🤍)

Eddie is not a religious man — far from it, actually. But there are a few things that make him believe in higher powers. In angels. In destiny and luck and a love so strong it could conquer everything. 

This very moment is one of them. 

Stevie, soft and sleepy beside him in the back of the car as Nancy is driving, the dim light of the passing street lamps painting his face in hues of gold like the light itself favours Steve Harrington, caressing his features with the softest of shadows. 

He’s beautiful. Ethereal. Perfectly angelic with his eyes closed, his whole body turned towards Eddie in the warmth of the car.

It takes Eddie’s breath away, his heart taking up space where before there were his lungs and ribcage, growing in size until he feels like he is about to burst. And even then he keeps looking, staring at that pretty face that looks so at peace with the whole world right now. Eddie has never seen Steve like this, but now he understands why people start wars. Why people defy gods and death itself to be with their one true love. Why Orpheus looked back. 

He understands. Because Steve, his Stevie, warm and safe and perfectly fine in the backseat of a car? That is everything. He doesn’t even need to kiss or touch so long as he just gets to look. And be. Oh, to be at the same time that Steve is. 

That might just be life’s greatest gift to him. 

A tiny sigh falls from Steve’s lips and Eddie really, really might be about to burst. 

“Hey, angel,” he whispers, because moments like this aren’t made for anything but hushed words, their truths too heavy, too sincere for the world to hear and keep on spinning. He doesn’t need the world to spin as long as there is Steve. 

“Hi,” Steve whispers back, his eyes still closed but the smile lighting up, luring Eddie in like he is but a moth drawn to the flame. 

Eddie leans in and rests his forehead against Steve’s, his hand coming up to cradle a light-kissed cheek. Steve leans into it, following Eddie’s hand like maybe they are twin stars pulling each other closer until there will be an explosion of light and creation. Steve nuzzles against his palm and leans further into Eddie’s body until they share the same breath — but still it’s not enough. 

Eddie wants to say so many things now that their hands are entangled, their soft exhales mixing. But after a while he notices that Steve is humming before gently singing along to the song coming quietly from the speakers. 

“Take it easy with me, please. Touch me gently like a summer evening breeze. Take your time, make it slow. Andante, Andante. Just let the feeling grow.”

Eddie knows the song, recognises it instantly, and his breath gets stuck in his throat once more. Because he has a secret. He loves it. He has imagined for the longest time that one day, someone would make it his song. Sing it for him, to him. 

He’s never told anyone because he has a reputation to uphold and more than enough metal music to listen to, but of course Steve wouldn’t care about his secrets being secret, and just oh so casually make his deepest, most private of dreams come true. 

He’s an angel, that one. A hero. Myths and fairy tales should be woven around that heart of his, folklore speaking of his name until history itself wouldn’t dare to forget. No one can convince Eddie otherwise. Not in that moment, not with Steve singing so quietly, so gently, so adoringly. 

I think I love you. I think I can’t ever stop, not when I’ve seen you like this. Not when you’ve just shown me what life can be about, what it should be about. Gods, I love you and love you and love you. 

That’s what he wants to say. 

But all that comes out is a marvelled, “Shit, Stevie.”

It has the desired effect of a huffed breath, an even wider smile, and Steve cuddling further into Eddie’s side, eyes still closed. Eddie brushes a kiss to Steve’s forehead and feels like maybe his love can make it into the fairy tale, too. 

It will. Oh, it will, when Steve finally lifts his head from Eddie’s shoulder and looks at him through hooded eyes, all soft and sleepy and safe. A moment passes like this and Eddie can’t breathe, maybe he can never breathe again — but it only lasts until Steve slowly, so very slowly begins to lean in to claim Eddie’s lips with a kiss so gentle it could bring him back from the dead. 

Eddie kisses Steve back just as slowly, because in moments like this there is no rush, no hurry. There’s only them, there’s only this. Only a kiss until there is another. 

And with Steve, there is always another. 

Nancy smiles as she is taking the long way to Steve’s house, rounding Loch Nora twice because she knows how comfy Steve gets in cars at night when he doesn’t have to drive and there is soft music playing. 

Eddie kisses her goodbye on the forehead, fully aware of what she’s done. He doesn't tell her about the sun and the myths and all the wars he would start for Steve.

Nights like this are not meant for telling anyone about them. They can hardly be believed as it is. They can only be lived, hand in loving hand.

[lynzishell]

✨Happy Birthday to my beloved twins✨

[buck2eddie]

you drew stars around my scars / happy birthday @buckleyseddie <3

[sparkle-fiend]

A very happy birthday to @thefreakandthehair 🥳

Steve pulls into the driveway behind Eddie’s van and just sits for a second after turning off the car. It’s been a shit day – he hates his new coworker, a kid puked in the aisle between the cartoons and the romantic comedies, and a downpour started the moment it was time to leave. He can feel a headache threatening just behind his left eye. 

But none of that matters now. He breathes in and out until the frustration fades, feeling the tension ease out of his shoulders and clenched jaw. It’s movie night and Steve has the day off work tomorrow – which means he and Eddie will probably get pleasantly toasted and watch movies until they pass out together on the Munson’s couch. He’s been looking forward to it all day.

He pulls his umbrella out of the back seat and flicks it open, even though it’s not far to the door. The rain is coming down so hard it makes a drum beat on the thin nylon stretched over his head, so loud he almost misses the sound of cursing coming from the backyard – until a particularly loud “Fuck!” filters through the rain sounds.

Steve immediately circles around the corner of the house. He spots Eddie by the thrifted patio table, looking like a drowned cat with his curls weighted down by rainwater. Bizarrely, he seems to be wrestling with a bunch of balloons tied to the back of a chair. 

“Eddie?” Steve calls out.

Eddie fumbles with the pocketknife he was using to try and cut the balloons free. “Shit!” He sticks his thumb into his mouth and flings the little blade onto the table. “Damn thing’s too dull to cut string, but it can still cut my hand? Argghhh!”

Steve jogs across the yard to reach him. “Hey, are you okay? What the hell are you doing out here?” 

Eddie pouts as Steve hands him the umbrella, tugging the wounded hand away from his mouth so he can check it over.

“Well I had everything set up for an awesome party, and then this rain fucked it all up.”

“I didn’t know you were having a party,” Steve says absentmindedly. He smoothes a finger gently over the little cut on Eddie’s thumb. Thankfully, it’s not deep – the bleeding is already coming to a stop.

“Uh, yeah?” Steve looks up at Eddie’s confused tone. “For your birthday?”

Oh. Steve immediately feels like an idiot. It is his birthday – he’d actually forgotten it. He tries to laugh it off. “Oh yeah. I just wasn’t expecting a party or anything.”

Eddie looks weirdly upset by that statement. “But you’re… Steve, you’re the birthday guy. The party king of the Party. You love birthdays!”

That’s not exactly true. Steve likes taking care of people. He likes to give gifts and cook for his friends – birthdays just give him a good excuse. His own birthday has never really been a big deal.

“And after the blowout bash you put together for me, you didn’t think I’d try to do something for you?”

“I didn’t… you don’t have to like, return the favor or anything. That’s not why I did it.” Steve runs his hand through his hair nervously. All the volume is gone, deflated in the rain – just sad, limp strands of hair fighting to curl in whichever direction they please, instead of his carefully styled swoop. “I just… like to celebrate the people I care about.”

That might be admitting too much, but it’s the truth. 

Eddie’s face softens. “Steve, this party isn’t some kind of obligation. I… we’re doing it for the same reason – to celebrate someone we care about.”

His dark eyes are so intense. It feels like there’s more there – a weight to his words, something Eddie’s not admitting to out loud yet. Like they’re standing on the edge of something, almost ready to take a leap.

The moment is broken when a rivulet of icy water runs down Steve’s back. He shivers violently, and both boys blink. 

“Shit, you’re standing here soaked,” Steve says. “You must be freezing. Let’s get inside.”

They walk close together under the umbrella on the way back to the house, and Steve enjoys the warm press of Eddie’s shoulder against his own.

It’s not until they reach the door that something occurs to him. “Wait… you said ‘we’?” 

Eddie flashes a wild, impish grin. He flings open the door, revealing a living room packed to bursting with damp partygoers, waterlogged streamers and balloons. “Surprise!!!”

[moodmoodthecrabking]

cali trio birthday moodboard requested by @ella-ashmore

[mikasa-imadebiscults]

Ren Pingsheng Relationship Hcs

(A/N- This is a birthday present for my best friend @broodingnightgoddess. I hope you enjoy this hehe)

(Warning: SFW & NSFW content)

SFW

- Loves to spoil you. Like taking you on dates often, giving you random gifts, always has your favorite food/drinks in stock, and much more (Sugar Mommy Ren)

- Takes good care of you (in more ways than one) If you’re not feeling well, she’ll immediately spring into action. Tells you to rest up while she cooks something to help you feel better.

- Gives good ass massages. Any sore or tense muscles? Not a problem.

- If Ren catches you staring at her while she’s working out she’ll make some teasing comments.

- Loves to just be around you, even if the both of you aren’t saying anything. Just your company alone brings her happiness.

- She’s very good at giving advice. Majority of the time she knows how to help you with any problems you may have. Not to mention she’s a great listener, if you ever need to talk about something she’s all ears.

NSFW

- Dominant. Very dominant. Even when you’re eating her pussy she’ll tell you exactly how she wants it.

- Will fuck you almost everywhere in her house. The shower, bed, window sill, kitchen counter, floor, against every door, the coffee table, and who knows where else.

- Likes to make eye contact while pleasing you. Just imagine her icy-blue eyes looking at you intensely as she slowly fucks you to a horny bliss.

- It turns her on to see you in chains and/or ropes all horny and needy for her touch. Though it’s okay if you’re not into that, she’ll never do anything that you wouldn’t want. Your pleasure is her pleasure.

- Okay but imagine a threesome with Ren and Jiang. God DAMN.

- Let’s you wear her clothes afterwards. The sight of you lying down on the bed in her clothes brings a small smile on her face.

Masterlist

[buckleyseddie]

all i can say is, i was enchanted to meet you .・。.・゜✭ [1] [2] [3]

happy birthday @cowboy-buck ♡

[withacapitalp]

Happy birthday Cass!!! I don't know if you remember this, but this was the first thing I wrote that started our friendship so I wrote a little add on as a birthday present and I hope you like it <3 @henderdads

Eddie noticed everything.

Eddie noticed the exact shade of brown that Steve’s eyes turned when the sunlight hits his face. He noticed that Steve cut Dustin’s sandwiches into triangles, El’s into rectangles, and always took the crusts off of Mike’s. He noticed that Steve stuck money in Wayne’s wallet when he knew that Wayne is dead asleep in his easy chair. Never enough for Wayne to catch on, just enough that Wayne could always afford a new pack of smokes if he wanted.

So of course Eddie noticed Steve's…thing about numbers.

The first time was with the shoes. Steve always seemed like a bit of a neat freak, but he had this especially weird thing about always making sure everyone’s shoes were lined up in perfect order.

The next thing was the steps while they were walking. It was like his boyfriend would purposefully miss the doorway, walk a few steps farther just so he could turn around and walk in on the right number.

But the rings….it’s the thing with the rings that makes Eddie confront him.

When he came home that night and found Steve shaking in a ball on the floor, Eddie had just held him, and then he had done his best to try and let them move past it. Steve would pick his rings in the morning, and Eddie would be content to just let Steve have his quirks. That would work.

But the curiosity continued to grow as the coincidences continued to mount and before too long Eddie couldn’t ignore it any more.

“So what’s special about seven?” Eddie asked as Steve slid the last ring off for the day. It was a thick black one with angel wings on one side and demon wings on the other. It was Steve’s favorite.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve said with far too much casualness, keeping his eyes firmly on their joined fingers.

“Baby,” Eddie said softly, leaning in close and touching their foreheads, “You don’t have to tell me, but please don’t lie,”

“Nothing,” Steve finally whispered, pulling back, “There’s nothing.

God, Eddie loved Steve with all his heart, but sometimes it really was just like pulling teeth.

“Stevie-”

“I’m not lying,” Steve said, quickly cutting Eddie off. He was starting to tap again, drumming the fingers of his free hand against his thigh in that oh so familiar pattern, “There’s nothing special about the number seven. Nothing important,”

“But?” Eddie prompted when Steve trailed off. His boyfriend oepneed and closed his mouth a few time

“But I can’t stop counting to it,” Steve blurted out in a rush, turning away from Eddie and burying his face in his hands

“To seven,” Eddie clarified, still unable to understand.

“Seven kids, Seven adults, my birthday is July 7th.” Steve said, muffled but clearly filled with shame, “I can't stop looking for sevens, because if I stop, then someone will get hurt, and it'll be my fault,”

Eddie's breath left his lungs, making the room feel too small. He knew Steve had a thing about sevens but this…this was beyond anything he could have thought of.

He must have been doing a pretty terrible job of hiding the horror on his face, because the second Steve looked up he huffed out a bitter little laugh and wrapped his arms tight around his middle.

“I know that makes me crazy, okay? I know that. I know that I'm crazy, I know that it means nothing. I know, I know, I know,” Steve said, growing more and more frantic with every word. Eddie crawled to the edge of the bed next to him, putting an arm around Steve's shoulder and holding him tight.

“But I can't stop, Eddie. I can't stop, I can't stop,” Steve admitted in a broken whisper, falling into his arms and breaking down in a very uncharacteristic, very terrifying way.

“I can't stop because if I do you'll get jumped at the school, and Robin will get in a car accident, and the gate is gonna reopen, and the kids are gonna die and, and- I can't stop. I can't stop. I can't stop.”

Steve continued to mutter into Eddie's shoulder as he fell apart. Over and over, until he cried himself to sleep.

He couldn't stop. Which meant Steve had tried to.

Which meant Steve wanted to.

The word finally hit him as Eddie tucked the blanket around Steve and pressed a kiss to his boyfriend's forehead, lying down next to him and holding him close. It really was the perfect word for the situation, but the word that created a host of other complications. Still Eddie couldn't make it leave his head as he laid awake the entire night.

Not a habit. Not an addiction.

It was a compulsion.

[shinigami-striker]

Lex Lang | Tuesday, 11.12.24

Same voice actor - featuring Lex Lang. Happy birthday! 🎂

1999

WarGreymon - Digimon Adventure (1999 anime; English dub)

Rayearth - Magic Knight Rayearth (anime; English dub)

2004

Dr. Neo Cortex - Crash Bandicoot series (video games; replacing Clancy Brown starting with Crash Twinsanity / 2004-present)

2024

Suguru Geto - Jujutsu Kaisen Cursed Clash (video game; English dub)

[stevesbipanic]

Dedicated to the lovely Lex @thefreakandthehair Happy Birthday 🎉😊❤️

Eddie was terrified.

This wasn't something new persay. Eddie was scared of a lot of things; maths tests, gym class, checkouts, bus timetables and interdimensional monsters. This was a new kind of fear.

"You'll be fine, kid. I've seen the way that boy looks at you."

"What if I mess it up, I've never been on a date, Wayne."

"Son, you could fall on your face in a pile of cow dung and Steve would still look at you like ya hung the damn moon."

Eddie smiled, fears not completely quelled but settled enough at the thought of Steve's smile. Eddie barely had time to finish tying his shoes before he heard the familiar crunch of gravel outside. He opened the door to see Steve getting out of his car, hair meticulously coiffed, jeans ironed and shirt hugging him perfectly.

"Sorry I'm late sweetheart."

"Hey, that's my line," Eddie said smiling shyly as he made his way to Steve.

"Think I deserve to call you sweet names for a bit too, after all you've gotten to call me sweetheart, angel, big boy, hot stuff, sweetcheeks, princes–"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, can't help myself, baby."

Steve blushed softly, "Will have to add that one to the list."

"I've got plenty more, sweetheart, and we've got all night to hear them."

"There's something I don't think I'll be able to wait all night for," Steve said taking Eddie's face in his hand, Eddie unconsciously leaning into it.

"What's that, angel?"

"This," Steve whispers, almost as nervous as Eddie had felt in the trailer, as he leans in and connects their lips. Eddie smiled into the kiss, the last of his nerves melting away. Steve was here for him, Steve wanted him and as long as that stayed true Eddie would never worry again.

"Don't think I could've waited either, Stevie."

Inside, Wayne shook his head as he listened to the car pull back out of the trailer park.

"Like he hung the damn moon."

[lunastar92]

Such a sweet post.

Happy Birthday to Michael Rosenbaum!