#THIS WAS RLLY SWEET

[pitgritted]

' you're supposed to rip it off quickly . if you take it off slowly like that , it'll hurt more . ' // some random idea of the lil kids and bandaids came to mind

          ‘ you’re supposed to rip it off quickly . ‘ easier said than done . ‘ if you take it off slowly like that , it’ll hurt more . ‘ hell , it was going to hurt regardless how you approached it . settrigh stares at the boy before him , lines creased at the center of his face , displaying a variety of emotions . digits , small &. frail , hook around the bandage that loosely bellowed among the dust that swarmed between them . there’s a exasperated sigh from him , frustratingly curling his hands into fists , punching the tawny floors beneath them . “ if you’re gonna keep babying me like that — i won’t ever become a man ! you heard what they said … ”

furry auricles ( that were pelted in specs of dried blood , crystallized along the pinpricks of his fur ) inlay upon his cranium . a wound , deep &. fresh , shed over the bridge of his nose . lucky the injury hadn’t succumbed to the cartilage beneath — at least in terms of breakage . cherub cheeks had begun to redden ; shame &. fury blemishing the shadows around the boy’s sunken eyelids . heavy streaks of tears blur his vision , the facets of his surroundings congregating into images of dismantled shapes , until he blinked away the the wetness from his eyes . “ i’m no different from dirt . why can’t I just be normal ? is that why papa left ? ” wrinkles of disgust arch around his mouth , his mind freshened with the foulness that was spoken of his mother .

his face hurt . it hurts . being punched , he surmised , was just a stage into manhood . prove your worth &. strength . just like his papa did . but why … he did everything he was suppose to . right ? ‘pa still left . before he could stifle his frustration , clawing at the flesh of his face , peeling all the cuts to a larger scale , yone was quick to stop him . he was only met with a light graze of fingers atop his head , &. a wispy chuckle from the older boy . ‘ you won’t become a man without support . it’s my job to baby you , because you are still young . too young to get into fights anyway . the least i can do is help you . ‘

settrigh freezes at this , feeling heat continue to graze beyond the plates of his face . tears whet against his cheeks , tracing the outline of his bones &. jaw . he doesn’t answer immediately — he doesn’t need to — &. removes the bandage from over his nose in a swift manner . the sting of the scar now in place . he slowly shuffled closer to yone , gripping the older boy’s clothes . gripping it hard . something he did with his mother to feel safer .

          ‘ you’re supposed to rip it off quickly . ‘ “ i got it . i got it . ” sett acquiesced . he was much taller than yone now . practically loomed over him . &. yet yone grazed the mounds of muscle ( etched in faded scars &. injuries ) with a tenderness &. care as he did when he were a boy . it irked him how the other man seemed to still treat him like a kicked puppy — but it wouldn’t quell the heat atop his chest . a feeling of safety . no danger lurked beyond the walls . the half - breed’s mouth would twitch at an angle , the light clicks of his ridged canines sifting through as he reaffirms the clench of his jowls . thick fingers lightly grazing the apparent scar atop his nose , feeling the smooth ridge dipping down at the center .

his ears flick abreast of him , noting the shift of yone’s smaller frame against him . no longer feeling the coolness of hands push into his skin &. replace old bloodied bandaging . sett cants his head up , flexing his fingers . watching how well the injury upon his hand had been well treated of infection . he could feel the saline solution prickle at injury beneath , creating a dull throb of pain . not that it bothered him any . “ not too shabby , yone . you have my thanks . ”

his unshaven chin would twitch a little , focusing coined colored eyes on the man . he didn’t look much different since they were kids . still had that annoyingly long head of hair that practically made him look like a prince ripped out of a fairy tail . sett leans in , his fingers latching onto the cuff of their sleeve , lightly tugging it . “ thanks for everythin’ . i mean it … ”

[kaogens]

mikus once again :P

[reunitedinterlude]

phil: whenever i see an ambulance, i like to think there is a baby being born, rather than a death (1, 2, 3)

[knifeslidez]

THAT GIRL'S NOT RIGHT IN THE BRAIN

[batman-gif]

"Frank and Gerard early 2000's stage kisses" this "Frank and Gerard early 2000's stage kisses" that. LISTEN! 2022 Ray and Frank forehead kisses. In conclusion . Frank iero.

[gldnstrngs]

whenever i see colin and bradley in behind the scenes or interviews im just like… 🤨 in the least weirdest way possible like they just have a Certain Energy to them

[anthyies]

[broh3m3]

harveston

[stevebabey]

part one here. ze part two to touch-starved stevie that absolutely no one requested hehe <3 but i gots to let my boys have a wee kiss :")

So, hugs with Eddie become… well, a thing.

Not a thing. They’re not a thing, Steve and Eddie. It’s totally the same as when he gets hugs from Robin. Eddie’s doing him a favour as a friend. It’s got the 100% platonic energy of getting a hug from a friend — a hug that usually melts into some form of a cuddle, limbs all tangled together until they can’t tell whose are whose.

Except, Steve doesn’t really do that second part with Robin. Like he hasn’t done it ever with Robin.

So, it’s an Eddie thing.

But they’re not a thing. Not matter how much Steve would actually very much like for that happen. Okay, maybe Steve’s overthinking the whole thing a bit, but he just can’t tell.

Where’s the line? It’s infuriating not being able to discern between platonic and more, just because Steve wasn’t held enough as a fucking baby. Out of all the things he resents his parents for, Steve’s surprised that this is so near the top.

Because, sure, Steve’s had more than his fair share of hookups. He knows that sort of touch. He knows the shape of lust; the scrapes of fingernails down backs, the tight grips over skin, the push and pull of the heat of the moment.

And this thing with Eddie… is not that.

So, really, Steve knows that it’s all friendly. Eddie is just being nice. He’s being a decent dude and helping his friend out — by catapulting himself into Steve’s arms at every opportune moment.

(Steve’s only dropped 3 mugs of coffee because of this so far. It’s only because Eddie says good catch, big boy with a devilish grin every time that Steve manages to catch Eddie that Steve hasn’t completely told him to knock it off. Just yet, at least.)

And he’s different in other areas. He’ll always seem to choose the seat next to Steve on movie-nights now, content to snuggle right up to him. They get thigh to thigh, arm to arm — and Eddie only needs to get about 20 minutes in for him to do a big sigh, like an old dog, and slump over, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve notices though. He always notices.

It’s impossible not to— the skin, even if there’s 3 layers between them, burns blazing warm. Eddie’s hair drapes over his arm, a curl inevitably tickling along Steve’s collar. He can feel the rise and fall of Eddie’s breathing, the little shake of when he laughs.

It drives Steve a little insane— insane in the way that makes him think about burying his fingers in those curls again, about pressing his lips against Eddie’s pretty mouth just to feel the smile against his skin, about digging into his chest so he can climb into his chest and live there.

Yeah, it’s— well, it’s safe to say that the effect of Eddie’s touchiness has sent what was once a fleeting thought of a crush into mind-melting levels of affection.

But he can’t fucking tell.

-

To Steve’s credit, neither can Eddie.

Which is not surprisingly considering sometimes he catches himself wondering how the hell he ended up here; in a close-knit friendship with band-geek Robin Buckley, princess Nancy Wheeler, and King Steve Harrington.

Okay, the Robin one sort of makes sense. He thinks that if no matter when their paths crossed, he and Robin would’ve always even some sort of strange friends - her snark complimenting his bitchiness. Also, the whole super queer thing helps too. Even the friendship with Nancy works, in its own weird way.

Steve though? He’s the fucking curve ball.

It works though, the two of them. Surprisingly well, actually — the two of them get on like a house on fire, bitchy quips back and forth. Even better, is the quiet that they can share. Steve loves to come around and do… nothing. Do nothing with Eddie, though.

So, even though Eddie had noticed the tension in Steve with touch, little moments where he turned rigid when Eddie’s usual wandering hands got too comfortable — Eddie chalked it up to the usual. Guys bring too uncomfortable with him, too weird about another guy being touchy. It didn’t matter than Eddie wasn’t even out to Steve yet, he was still might be that type of guy.

Well, Eddie had certainly thought so. Sure, Steve might not be one of those jocks who smacked around boys who looked too long in the locker room, but if he knew a smidge of the truth, who really knows. It would explain the tenseness at least.

But then— ‘Can I… have a hug?’ There had been a dozen things Eddie was thinking that Steve could’ve asked for but that? Wasn’t even in the ballpark. It was so left-field it left Eddie speechless for a whole moment. And Steve had been staring at the ceiling, his hands curled up tight again like- like he thought Eddie might say no.

A ridiculous thought, honestly. Anyone who knew Eddie well enough knew he was touchy; loved giving it, loved getting it. Like an overly affectionate cat, Wayne had once called him, just 11 years old, because Eddie’s need for affection seem to never be sated.

After that night, Steve’s lack of touch became far more obvious. It’s always hair ruffles or high-fives, yet never hugs. Normally, Eddie would keep to that boundary; some people are less touchy other than others, he knows that.

But… “Sometimes I realise it’s been awhile, since I’ve had some touch.” That’s what Steve had said, his words. Eddie doesn’t even think he meant to say something so heartbreaking. In fact, the guy seemed embarrassed.

It had thrown Eddie for a loop— because Steve gets around. He’s nearly notorious for one-night stands and failed flings, as Robin loves to drone on about considering she’s subjected to all the flirting. What had originally been a point of envy for Eddie, just saturates the bleakness of Steve’s words. Sex but without a moment of intimacy.

So, while Eddie is miles away from being the person who gets into Steve’s pants — not for lack of want, mind you — he does try hike up the touchiness. Little things. Lingering when he taps him on the arm, hooking his chin over Steve’s shoulder to peer over it, leaning up against him when they’re side by side watching a film.

It’s good. It helps Eddie release the pressure of his stupid monumental god-awful crush he has. Yeah, yeah, it’s laughable, even to Eddie. It’s like Gay 101; don’t get crush on straight dudes, especially the ones you’re friends with. And yet…

Steve lets him. He lets Eddie give him touch, more than he lets anyone else. He still tenses; there’s still always a moment before he can remember to relax, like he’s trying to shake off bad thoughts but then he melts. He always melts into Eddie’s touch eventually — in a way Eddie knows Steve actually loves it, drinks it up as much as he can.

And maybe, Eddie is the biggest fool to grace the Earth to let that fact give him some hope. Sue his gooey heart, he’s a romantic. It’s a quiet hope but, it’s there.

Tonight, it seems relaxing for Steve is been harder than usual— several times has Eddie traced a quite long along Steve’s arms, a subtle point that they were far too tense for someone who was wrapped up in cuddles on the couch. ‘Cos that’s 100% what they are now. Eddie will still call them hugs, but usually, when it’s just the two of them, it becomes this.

Steve, tucked up into the corner of the couch, one leg flush along the back of the couch and one hanging off the edge. It’s the prime position for Eddie to crawl up, wind his arms around Steve’s middle and give him a good squeeze and then settle there. Head on Steve’s chest, lying in the cradle of his hips. Safe. Warm.

It makes him warm, oh very warm to know that he gets this. That Steve doesn’t give this amount of trust to many, if any, other people but Eddie — he trusts Eddie.

“Y’know,” Eddie says, cheeks smushed against the plain of Steve’s pec. It feels deliciously warm and Eddie’s fairly sure he can feel how toned it is just through his cheek. Hot bastard. “I’m actually real glad you asked for that hug all those weeks ago.”

He leaves it there ‘cos he knows Steve will ask. Eddie’s eyes stay on the buzzing tv-screen even as Steve’s head shifts, turning to peer down at the boy slumped on his chest. Eddie’s pretty sure he can see Steve’s mouth twitch up into a smile.

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” Eddie affirms, giving a nod and his eyes flick up to meet Steve’s for just a moment. “Think I’ve had some of the best hugs in the world.”

Okay, that was maybe more honest and sappy than Eddie was going for. He is just letting Steve know he isn’t just doing it for Steve — that he enjoys these moments just as much. He lays it on thick, tries for a smarmy angle.

“Swept up in these pillowy arms?” He croons, giving Steve’s bicep a quick squeeze, making the other chuckle softly. “Who wouldn’t think so? I’m a lucky guy.”

Despite the joking tone, there’s no quick comeback from Steve. That’s alright. Eddie’s quite happy if this is one of the times Steve just takes the compliment; let’s the word sink in and hopefully, believes them, even if it’s just a little bit. He watches the film and doesn’t read into the silence.

Not even when Steve says, “Eddie?” all soft. Nearly shy sounding. It doesn’t quite register to Eddie’s ears.

“Mm?”

“Eddie.” Steve says again, a little firmer and that catches Eddie’s attention. He turns his head and rests his chin on Steve’s chest, his brows drawn together in silent question.

But the moment he makes eye contact, Steve’s doing that scrunched up face again. Is studying the ceiling instead of facing Eddie. And just like all those weeks ago, his hands clench up tight. Twists up the fabric of Eddie’s sweater in between his fingers and uses it to ground himself.

Last time, he asked for a hug. Considering he’s currently just about squishing Steve beneath his body weight, Eddie can’t fathom what he might be worked up to ask for. Unless he was going to ask for something more than a hug— which, well, just wasn’t going to happen, even if Eddie really wanted it to.

“Can I-” Steve starts. He sucks in a breath, almost like he’s gathering courage. But he’s not, because he’s not about to ask for what Eddie hopes for, he’s not, he’s—

Unless…?

“Can I… have a kiss?” Steve asks, barely audible. The sentence is murmured, soft words that hit Eddie like a gentle kiss in itself — imprinting right onto his heart. Steve Harrington wants a kiss — from him!

“Oh.” Eddie says, in a breathy delightful way. He’s fairly certain the little monkey in his brain is clapping its cymbals at double-speed as the words process; or maybe it’s his heart, which feels like it’s leapt up his throat.

“Oh?” Steve echoes, a smile already playing at the edges of his mouth, because he can see Eddie’s want. Because he knows him.

“Yes.” Eddie says suddenly, with a frantic nod, pushing up closer so their faces are aligned. “Yes, absolutely, you can.” He affirms.

Steve huffs a quiet laugh at the eagerness and then his arm that had been slung around Eddie shifts. It moves up til his hand caresses along the line of Eddie’s jaw, tilting him just how he likes.

Eddie holds his breath. Counts the freckles he can see this close. Tries to feel Steve’s heartbeat through where they’re pressed so closely together; can Steve feel his? Thundering and hurried, beating so hard Eddie thinks he might bruise the inside of his ribs.

Then Steve kisses him. And shit, Steve’s lip are better by ten-fold than every daydream Eddie’s ever had about them. They’re warm and so soft — plush and pressing against his own and Eddie is freezing. Fuck, wait, how does this go again? Right, Eddie’s never… well, kissed anybody before.

Steve pulls back and Eddie screws his eyes up — not ready in the slightest for the disappointment of his own shoddy kissing skills. Fuck, did he really just freeze? Steve — Steve Harrington — asks for a kiss and Eddie decides to stab himself in the back by not figuring out how to fuck to kiss back.

“You call that a kiss?” Steve teases and Eddie’s well aware of the parallel — of the irony of Steve repeating his own words back at him. But he can’t make himself laugh even though it’s funny. Instead, a little groan wiggles out his throat.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, earnest. He forces his eyes opens — he needs to see what’s Steve’s thinking. Where he’s expecting disappointment or perhaps regret, is only patience. Maybe a touch of concern. Eddie continues, despite the humiliation that makes his throat sticky.

“I haven’t- I don’t do this often.” He coughs awkwardly clearing his throat and hoping it hides the next word. “Ever.”

There’s a jump in Steve’s eyebrows, a moment of surprise in his eyes that lets him know he did, indeed, hear that final word. It makes Eddie feel… well, it’s nice that Steve had expected him to have been kissed by now. Even if he hasn’t. He tries to take it as a compliment.

“That’s okay,” Steve assures. Absentmindedly, his thumb rubs soothing along Eddie’s jaw. It makes Eddie shiver, some outrageous amount of joy clawing into every nerve. Steve likes Eddie. He wants to kiss Eddie.

“Do you want to try again?”

Eddie nods before the questions even out of his mouth. Steve smiles, all sunshine. This time when he draws Eddie in, he notices the way Eddie holds his breath — the rigidness in his body.

Steve kisses him again, another short and soft one and then whispers against his lips, “Relax.”

‘Cos isn’t tonight just full of the parallels, Eddie thinks. He listens, tries to focus on how sweet Steve’s kiss is than his panicky heart, forcing out a breath between the kisses. His hands along Steve’s sides find a grip, grounding and good, and by the fourth kiss, he begins to feel a bit melty.

It’s good. It’s really good. Kissing Steve is top 5– nay, the top moment of his life so far. Somehow, it’s made all that much better knowing the build-up behind it. Knowing that Steve knows he isn’t just kissing him for a heat of the moment — that Eddie wants kisses here, kisses before bed, in the morning, on dates. Eddie wants Steve.

And with the way he kisses, Eddie’s pretty sure Steve wants him just as bad.

It doesn’t take long for Steve to reach what Eddie decides is an ultra pretty fuckin’ state; lips swollen from kisses, cheeks flushed, hair a little mussed up. He bets he looks no better. The thought makes him grin, enough they have to break the kiss ‘cos Eddie can’t stop his stupid happy grin ‘cos shit— he actually gets to have this Steve.

“What?” Steve asks, somehow half heart-eyed and half suspicious at the mischief in Eddie’s eyes.

“Can I... have a hickie?”

now with a part three !

[tomatoart]

Seeing double on my 2000s girl

[sunnibits]

“the kids chose protective mom izzy in the divorce” is literally my new favorite joke to come out of s2 so far I’m utterly obsessed

[princessbrunette]

⊹ ᜊ(ᜊ ´ ˘)੭ ♡ … DON’T SMILE ♡

track twelve of the short n’sweet series. pairing: toxicex!johnb x reader. based loosely on the song don’t smile by sabrina carpenter. this is the final drabble of the series! i hope you enjoyed reading as much as i did writing! ໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა

there you were again. lying next to your ex boyfriend john booker routledge in the nude, having succumbed once more to seeing him. you said it was the last time. this had to be the last time.

you’d practically dragged him through his house to the chateau when you’d arrived, only having dropped him a warning text of ‘i’m coming over’ ten minutes prior. you didn’t care to alert him any sooner, john b had no life outside of tormenting you and treasure hunting — what the fuck else would he be doing?

“have you been with anyone but me since we broke up?” you gasp between kisses as he had unhooked your bra.

“psh, yes.” he’d shrugged, pulling away to not only avoid eye contact but to focus on that fidgety hook that just wouldn’t unclasp.

“no you haven’t.”

“no, i have not.” he admits, a little too gleefully with a grin as he closes back in to kiss you once more.

that moment swirls around in your head as you lay on his bicep, still able to feel his release leaking from you. thank god for birth control, or else you’d have been knocked up by now.

john b watches the ceiling fan continue to spin overhead, barely blinking as he thinks of what to say. you break the silence first, rolling over to loom down on him.

“if you ever stop loving me i’ll kill you.”

“noted…” he presses his lips together in a awkward yet polite smile like he truly believed you might. “does that mean we’re… back togeth—”

“nope.”

you flop back down, this time on his chest — making yourself comfy. you knew you’d have to move in a minute, clean up and see yourself out, but you could enjoy this while it lasts. you didn’t need him… not really, not… all the time. you were sure you could find someone to do the job just as well, make you cry just as hard — but for now he’d have to do. you’d gone too long without begging him to be a boyfriend, why throw away all that pride now?

[strwbrryfire]

now i'm the one going ahead

from little women (1994)

[badnewswhatsleft]

(x) so sweet... 🥹

[knifeslidez]

under pressure

[somewhereincairparavel]

when Ravi couldn't stop crying after Pip revealed her final plan to go mia till Max's trial, cried on her shoulder and CONTINUED to cry on his knees for a long time even after she left.

Pipravi. Pls save me pipravi.