#but its okay because I love them

[sneezeplease]

The warmth of a caring touch, and a hand to hold.

This sickfic just barely won the poll I had posted a few days ago lol. I'm working on the second one too! please enjoy about 1k words of Kaz/inej fluff because they are my comfort heterosexuals. ----- Kaz Brekker was fine. He was more than fine, actually, working on yet another time sensitive job. This time, their presence was required just outside of Ketterdam, and while the mission was done Kaz could tell no one would be able to make it back to his beloved bar tonight. So, they had walked into a hotel Nina knew never took names or remembered faces, getting three separate rooms. 

Like their usual arrangements, Kaz and Inej took the same room. Inej was the only person that Kaz trusted to sleep next too, although he would never tell her that. She left to talk to Jesper only minutes ago, giving the put-together male time to recuperate. 

He was trying to do so but felt too on edge. Locking the rooms door, Kaz took a deep breath that instantly turned into a crackling cough. His heart skipped a beat as he found himself suddenly unable to breathe, using a gloved fist to muffle them as his body shook from the coughs. Kaz had never been someone with a strong constitution, even if he tried to conceal all signs of weakness. Even once he stopped coughing, his head still felt dizzying and weak. Kaz fell onto one of the beds, his eyes closing for a moment. Everything was spinning around him, even while he was in the dark. — Click, the door swung open with barely any noise, signaling Inej’s arrival. She gasped as she saw the scene in front of her. The only time Inej had seen Kaz like this was when- he was sick. Probably for days now, considering how he dreaded illness so much. “Kaz?” a garbled groan was the only noise she got in response, yet Kaz turned and stared at Inej with one eye, the other still against his pillow. “Inej,” his voice sounds like a whimper, weaker than she usually hears it. The woman rushes to his side, using the back of her hand to check Kaz’s forehead for fever. His forehead was hot enough that she hisses as she pulls back, now looking for his usual waterskin.

“You look horrendous,” She says, trying to lighten the mood. Kaz tries to answer, but instead his face warps. “Hehhhhh’tshhhhhh! Ehhhh’kchuhhhhh!!” He only sneezes in doubles whenever he has caught a bug from someone, and Inej knows he wouldn’t sneeze like that unless he is too delirious to care about getting her sick.

“Ghezen,” Grabbing a handkerchief from Kaz’s own jacket, she brings it up to his face. “Try to blow your nose,” Inej can tell that the man is falling asleep, but he does attempt a weak blow for her. She puts the handkerchief back on the nightstand, and is preparing to change herself when Kaz coughs lightly, then tries to speak.

“Inej, I can move-” he trails off, nose still giving him hell for a few seconds but failing to build into a real sneeze. “Can we sleep next to each other?” usually Kaz is much too reserved to ask such a question, even though they have been romantically engaged for months now.

The sweet, innocent question draws a smile out of her. “Of course Kaz,” she moves the beds together after changing into sleepwear, a long dress that is lighter than her usual clothes but still lets her react in case of someone attacking in the middle of the night. It had taken her a long time to be comfortable with sleeping next to anyone, but they had done this enough exhausted nights for her to be so very happy here.

Kaz’ eyes are still closed as she slips into bed next to him, being the big spoon as she protects Kaz with her own body. The last thing Inej hears as she drifts off to sleep is the smallest snuffles possible, his snores sounding extremely stuffed-up.

///////

It is early morning when Kaz wakes up next. There is a small amount of dreary sunlight coming into their room. He realizes that the room has been changed while he was very out of it, but he also realizes that there is very familiar arms holding him in place. Inej. she must have come in while he was passed out on top of the sheets, helping him into bed.

As much as he loves her warm touch, his nose and throat is already starting to itch. There is no rest for the wicked, after all.

“Uehhhhhh’kshht!! Uhhhhh’tchushhhh!!” Kaz stifled the first sneeze with his thumb and forefinger, but the second sneeze managed to escape his hold. They did nothing to help the tickle, instead shifting the congestion in his nose and making it so much worse. His breath caught harshly again, causing Inej to stir. “Heahhhhhhh–tchushhhhh!! Ahhhhhhhh’pshiewwww!!” the last sneeze was undeniably loud, causing Kaz to wince. His headache wasn’t worsened from the sneezes, but they caused his already weakened voice to rebel against his own throat.

“Kaz? How do you-” Inej was cut off by choked off coughs, Kaz’s [I] ungloved hand cupped over his mouth as he tried desperately to muffle them. The assassin could see how panic set into his watery eyes as his hand moved away from his mouth, the coughs now significantly weakened. “Oh, angel-” her hands gently felt Kaz’ forehead before moving away. “You’re too sick to leave your bed,”

Usually, this would be the part where Kaz refused her. Where Kaz pushed everyone away to wallow in a sea of terrible memories, but he was different now. At least, he wanted to believe he was better, better than he had been before. In actuality, it was both Kaz and Inej trying to stop their terrible habits and learning to be more secure in each other.

///////// Although unplanned, the next two days consisted of the other crows all playing cards and screwing around. Occasionally, Jesper or Wylan would walk back up to Kaz and inej’s room, only to hear their quiet conversations, the snores someone made while sick, or soft totally not cute sneezes. They definitely didn’t gossip about the two, and if Inej couldn’t be a perfect wraith when they got into Ketterdam because of a running nose, no one mentioned it.

[eydilily]

would you bite the hand that feeds you?

[captain-krow-drozdov]

Danny Is An Alternate Version Of Ra's Al Ghul And Flash Already Called Dibs On Adopting Him

Danny In All His Sleep Deprived Slightly Scuffed Up From A Fight Glory Is On His Way To Clockworks Tower To Hopefully Get A Nap And Maybe Some Homework Done When A Natural Portal Opens Up In Front Of Him And Proceeds To Unceremoniously Drop Him In The DC Verse Just Outside Of Central City Before Promptly Closing Leaving A Tired Danny Behind In A Run Down Abandoned Parking Lot.

It's Times Like This When Danny Regrets Putting Off Learning How To Make His Own Portals, Cause Now He Is Very Much Stuck For The Foreseeable Future And He Has No Idea Where Or When He Is. Luckily For Him However Central City Isn't Too Far Away, Unlucky For Him However Is That Once In The City He Realizes This Isn't His Dimension. He's Pretty Sure He'd Remember Something Called The Justice League.

So What Do You Do When Supernatural Bullshit Fails You? You Fall Back On Your Mad Scientist Roots And You Make A Portal Gun. So That's Exactly What Danny Plans To Do.

Unfortunately Staying Alive And Building Questionably Safe Portal Technology Requires Money And Supplies, So He Ends Up Wandering From City To City Doing Odd Jobs/Fixing Up Busted Tech For Cash Or Unwanted Electronics For His "Operation: Get Home" Needs. This Obviously Ends In A Few Superhero Encounter Shenanigans.

Though He Always Ends Up Back Near Central City, Both On The Off Chance The Natural Portal Will Open Up Again And Because Out Of All The Superheroes That Apparently Exist In This Universe The Speedsters Are His Favorite (Red Robin Is Solidly His Second Favorite Ever Since The Gotham Vigilante Gave Him A Large Coffee Filled With Enough Caffeine To Kill A Man).

Unbeknownst To Danny However Is That Every Hero/Vigilante He Has Encountered Has Come To At Least One Of The Following Conclusions; 1. Run Away Meta Who Is In Desperate Need Of A Good Meal/Adoption Bait. 2. Possibly Red Robin/Tim Drake Clone 3. A Good Kid But Could Possibly Be A Future Rouge If Left Unsupervised. 4. Did Bats Get A New Kid And Why Is He Here?

All Flash Knows Is That He Saw The Kid First And Therefore Has Dibs. Suck It Bruce.

Fast-forward A Few Months And Danny Gets Hurt During A Rogue Attack While Trying To Help Some Civilians Get To Safety (Old Hero Habits Die Hard (Ha Die Hard) And All That Jazz) And He Nopes Out Once Everyone Is Safe And When The Paramedics Are Busy With Other People Unaware He Left A Blood Sample Behind.

One DNA Test Brought To You By Paranoid Bat Concerns Of A Possible Red Robin Clone Later And They Find Out That Dannys DNA Matches One Ra's Al Ghul.

They Now Think Danny Is An Escaped Ra's Al Ghul Clone.

Memes For The Vibes:

[mocking-the-bird]

If Tim and Steph decide that 7am is time for sibling bonding activities, it'll be so, even if the sibling they're bonding with is trying to get some goddamn sleep

[sporeclan]

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This one goes out to all the Finchpaw fans out there

[hellafluff]

Garrus' interactions with Shepard post-Thessia are so fucking well written. Everyone else is telling Shepard they're sorry or doing a soft sad voice asking if she's okay but Garrus has this moving little speech about how losing a fight isn't the end of the war and I just. He's so fucking good. He knows what Shepard needs to hear and has the experience to back up the things he says. He's so good to her

[cryptidinlaw]

[ender1821]

im a child of divorce

[pheroyyay]

i have 2 confess sometimes i quite like dapg as an actual gaming channel because the sheer nonchalance and whimsy with which they approach every game they play makes me remember that actually you can play games however you want. and its okay because the point of them is to have fun and not to follow a certain set of rules that make you 'officially good'

[fairsweetlonging]

thinking about crowyuan saving liu qingge from his qi deviation and disappearing before he can fully wake up so he won't be recognized (him being a demon and all), but it causes liu qingge to accidentally mistake him for shen qingqiu.

there is a massive fight during the next peak lord meeting, with liu qingge accusing shen qingqiu of saving his life and not taking responsibility for it as if it's a war crime, while shen qingqiu keeps denying he had anything to do with it and if he had saved liu qingge, he'd be rubbing it in his face every chance he got.

it escalates and escalates until liu qingge, red with embarrassment and anger, points at shen qingqiu and says "you were cradling me in your arms!" and shen qingqiu explodes.

mu qingfang tries to calm them down by saying that perhaps liu qingge hallucinated, which is not uncommon for a qi deviation, but that sets off some of the other peak lords who now start teasing him for "dreaming of shen qingqiu coming to rescue him", and of course that only makes it worse.

liu qingge refuses to let it go and starts bringing shen qingqiu his victories to try and pay off his debt, because he is an honorable man and he will not let shen qingqiu get away with this!!

meanwhile shen yuan is watching it from a distance wondering whether he made it better or worse by stepping in.

[bonniesband]

It means I love you.

[felsicveins]

His heart belongs to another

And no other heart will do

[mcdynamite]

When everything settles down after Vecnapocalypse, Steve gets a call from the athletic director at Hawkins High School, and a day later, he accepts a part-time position as the assistant coach of the Hawkins High varsity basketball team.

Lucas is obviously stoked, and the other kids concede (after a few minutes of bemoaning Steve's return to the Dark Side) that it's a perfect job for him. Robin screeches with delight, and Nancy tells him she's proud of him, and Jonathan thumps him on the back with a quiet, "Congrats, man," and Eddie?

Well, Eddie just rolls his eyes and makes a joke about the Return of the King that goes right over Steve's head (but has the kids and, wouldn't ya know it, Nancy, grinning) and doesn't say much else.

It's probably stupid, but Eddie has actually (horrifyingly) grown to like hanging out with Steve. Sure, he knows next to nothing about D&D or Lord of the Rings or metal music, but that doesn't seem to matter all that much. He still listens to Eddie rant about all of those aforementioned interests and does his best to understand, even if he doesn't particularly care about the content of Eddie's latest campaign. He lets Eddie play Dio and Metallica and Black Sabbath for him, and even though Eddie can tell he's not really into most of their music, at the end of his "Musication" he gives Eddie a list of the songs he actually liked, so they have some stuff to listen to when they hang out that won't make one of them want to puncture their own eardrums.

He even looks genuinely apologetic (and, dare Eddie say, disappointed?) when he tells Eddie that it's not that he doesn't want to read Lord of the Rings. It's just that he can't, because reading is really fucking hard when the letters won't stop jumping all over the damn place.

The point is: Eddie likes Steve. He likes Steve's sarcastic quips and his attentiveness, and his hilarious but well-meaning and frighteningly successful mothering of the teenagers they apparently co-parent. Eddie likes Steve, and he likes being his friend, and he's afraid that this stupid Assistant Coach job will end up dragging Steve headfirst back into his King Steve days, and Steve will forget all about being friends with Eddie "The Freak" Munson.

It's so, so stupid, because while Eddie likes Steve, he also knows Steve, and he knows that Steve isn't the guy who used to hang around the Tommy Hagans of the world anymore. But the fear is there, and it's still there by the time the school year starts and Steve starts getting busy "prepping" for his new job, which... what? The basketball season doesn't start until January, so what the hell kind of prep would Steve be starting in August?

Eddie wonders, but he doesn't ask. He just anxiously waits to see if Steve will eventually decide to ditch him, and he continues to be quietly delighted when Steve always, always makes time for the two of them to hang out.

The thought of Steve going back into jock-mode still makes him kinda sick, but he'll never tell Steve that. Steve is way too excited for the start of the basketball season, and Eddie is gonna support him the same way Steve supports Eddie at his Corroded Coffin concerts: with begrudging interest and genuine pride, so help him God.

It goes on like this until one day, Eddie's begrudging interest suddenly becomes a little more genuine, when he accidentally stumbles upon what Steve meant for the last three months whenever he said he was "prepping for the season." 

He's got plans to hang out with Steve that afternoon, pulling up in his van fifteen minutes late because time management has never been one of his strong suits. Only, when he gets to Casa Harrington, he notices something strange. The garage is open.

The thing is, Steve always parks the Beemer in the driveway. He never uses the garage. Actually, Eddie didn't even realize Steve had a garage at all, until now, but he hears some clanging coming from inside and goes to investigate. He walks past the Beemer (parked in the driveway where it always is) and peers inside, expecting to maybe find Steve... repairing something? Reorganizing? Honestly, he has no clue what he thinks he'll find in there.

What he definitely doesn't expect to find is Steve Harrington in the middle of what appears to be a pretty fucking intense workout – hair and tank top damp with sweat, wearing frankly indecently short shorts, and breathing steadily as he does fucking pull-ups on the bar in his garage, which has apparently been converted into a whole goddamn home gym.

Eddie stops in his tracks and stares, affording himself a moment or two to have a teeny, tiny (enormous) crisis over it.

Steve hasn't noticed him yet, and Eddie can't tear his stupid eyes away from the way Steve's arms tremble from the exertion as he pulls himself up, face pinched into a concentrated frown. Eddie can see him gritting his teeth, can see the muscles in his arms and shoulders straining a little bit. Even worse, every time Steve lowers himself down, his stupid tank top rides up just enough to expose the (not at all soft, apparently) plains of his stomach, glistening with sweat, and God, Eddie wants to lick Steve fucking Harrington's abs like a-

Oh, no.

Oh, fuck no.

Oh, Jesus H. Christ, fucking shit, NO.

Listen... It's not like Eddie hasn't already known for years that he's gay. He's been fully aware of that since middle school. It's the reason his dad kicked him out and sent him to live with Wayne, for fuck's sake. It's just that Eddie has put a lot of effort into pretending his thoughts about Steve Harrington were totally, completely, 100% platonic up until this point, and now he can feel all of that hard work going down the metaphorical drain.

He stands there, stock still with his jaw hinged open, and stares while his brain melts out of his ears and his thoughts begin to race. God, those fucking arms. Eddie's not weak, but he's definitely weaker than Steve, which means Steve could definitely pin Eddie down if he wanted to. In a bed. Against the wall. On the hood of a car. Fuck, on the goddamn floor – Eddie's not picky! All he knows is that he wants Steve to leave the workout for later so Eddie can lick the sweat off of him, which... gross. But also hot. But also-

"Eddie?"

Oh, fuck. How does one talk to the sun?

Steve has noticed him standing there, obviously, which sort of makes Eddie wonder how long he's been staring. Time stopped in Eddie's world the moment a sweaty Steve Harrington entered his field of vision, so he truly has no idea how bad his staring got.

Christ, this is going to be so bad.

So, so bad.

"Eds?" Steve says, his face pinching into a frown. "You okay?"

Oh my god, you moron, say something! Eddie's brain screams at him.

"What?" Smooth. "Uh, yeah! Totally fine. Just, y'know, like, lost in thought, or whatever. Plotting my next demonic attempt at world domination. The usual."

Steve looks at him like he's grown a second head, which... is fair. But Eddie's fumbling attempt at speech is at least embarrassing enough to take precedence over the cacophonous sound of whatever Ode to Abs his mind was attempting to compose, and Eddie feels like he can think a little more clearly.

"Ah, fuck," Eddie mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. He sighs and looks at Steve apologetically. "I'm sorry, dude. I swear I'm fine. It's just been a weird day."

Steve cocks his head to the side like a particularly inquisitive puppy, and oh God, it's adorable. Eddie loathes how adorable it is. "Good weird?" Steve asks. "Or bad weird?"

Eddie ponders his answer for a moment, then replies with, "Weird weird."

That's enough to startle a laugh out of Steve, who shakes his head and wraps a towel around his neck. "Fair enough, man. Sorry about all of this, by the way." He gestures vaguely towards the home gym in his garage and shrugs sheepishly. "I was gonna be done before you got here but I sorta... lost track of time, I guess." He's got an unreadable look on his stupidly beautiful face, and Eddie doesn't like that at all. He doesn't like that one bit.

But he decides not to overthink it and brushes Steve's apology off with a wave of his hand. "It's whatever, dude. Might wanna shower, though." The ‘otherwise I might take it upon my gay little self to lick you clean’ is left blessedly unsaid.

Steve laughs again, and just like that, things start to feel a bit less earth-shattering. They banter for a bit longer, then Steve really does go to take a quick shower, and they spend the rest of the night lying on the floor of Steve's living room, listening to the metal mix tape they made together and bitching about their brood of teenagers.

Weirdly, though, after that day, Steve seems to be working out a lot more frequently. As in almost every single time he and Eddie have plans. Day after day, Eddie is treated to the sight of Steve Harrington looking like a goddamn Greek god, and day after day, Steve catches his eye and smiles before abandoning his equipment and acting like Eddie's world hasn't been completely turned on its head.

It's starting to drive him kind of insane, honestly, and his pining has gotten so bad that even Gareth and Jeff know.

"He's just so pretty!" Eddie whines for what feels like the thousandth time.

His band mates simply exchange a long-suffering look and let him ramble.

It all comes to a head in November, just before Thanksgiving, when Eddie shows up and once again finds Steve finishing a workout. Just like always, Steve shoots him a good-natured grin and greets him before heading inside for a quick shower, and just like always, Eddie waits downstairs.

NOT like always, however, this time Steve comes jogging down the stairs with wet hair, wearing a pair of joggers and... absolutely nothing else.

It's been a long time since Eddie last saw Steve without a shirt on (since the day at Lover's Lake when they found watergate, to be precise), and suddenly Eddie is remembering why he'd immediately pulled out a cigarette to calm down that day. Only this time it's even worse, because Steve has really been putting effort into these workouts, and it shows.

His chest is toned and covered in coarse hair that Eddie kind of wants to tug on, just to see what sort of sounds Steve would make if he did. He's got the makings of an honest-to-God six pack just barely visible on his abdomen, partially obscured by scars Eddie recognizes from looking at his own in the mirror. Steve's are slightly smaller and not as deep, but they clearly came from the same sets of tiny jaws, and Eddie finds them weirdly comforting, these matching scars that they share. Steve's look pale in contrast against his skin, and God, Eddie just wants to kiss them. He wants to worship them and every other inch of the man who bears them.

The man who definitely just said something Eddie didn't hear because he was too busy trying not to pass out from mere proximity to something so beautiful.

"Sorry, what?" Eddie asks, shaking his head violently in an attempt to dispel his traitorous thoughts.

Steve smirks, but Eddie can see the soft fondness in his eyes when he cocks his head to the side and repeats the words Eddie missed the first time. "I asked if you see something you like, Munson," Steve teases, one hand carding wet hair out of his face, and Eddie just blinks at him.

Play it off, play it off, play it off, his brain supplies helpfully. He can totally play this off. Dudes stare at their friends’ chests all the time, right?

"What?" he practically squeaks. "I- well... no, wait, um... ah, fuck."

So much for plausible deniability.

He's just beginning to feel vaguely panicky when Steve seems to catch on, and he's right in front of Eddie in an instant, concerned, hazel eyes gazing down at Eddie's grimacing face.

"Hey," Steve says, reaching out like he wants to touch Eddie but thinks better of it. "It's okay, man. You're okay. I'm just messing with you."

The impact of his words is instant, and Eddie can feel his face heating up. Of course Steve was joking. God, Eddie is such an idiot.

"Right," Eddie says, voice strained. He rubs his face with both hands, shaking his head lightly. "Duh. Obviously you were teasing." His voice sounds strange even to his own ears, and he's got a weird feeling of anticipation in his stomach that tells him that he's already shown too many of his cards.

"I mean, yeah..." Steve says, seeming nervous for the first time since Eddie got here. His hands flit from the back of his neck to his hair to his waist, like he doesn't know what to do with them. "Teasing is, like, flirting 101, so..."

Eddie freezes.

"Oh my God, wait..." he says slowly, finally daring to meet Steve's confused eyes. "Flirting?"

Steve looks utterly perplexed now, and he does that thing where he cocks his head to the side in confusion. 

It's still adorable. Fuck, why is it so adorable? 

"Um... yes?" He studies Eddie, seems to register the shock on his face, and then matches it with shock of his own. "Wait, you didn't know? I thought you knew!"

"I most certainly did not!" Eddie counters, feeling a bit like he's having an out-of-body experience.

"Oh my God," Steve says. "Oh my God, Eddie, I've been flirting with you for, like, months!"

"Months?!" Eddie's voice has officially reached the stratosphere.

"Yes!" Steve yelps. He looks torn between laughing and crying, though Eddie thinks it'll be mildly hilarious no matter what choice he makes. "Jesus, dude, I winked at you while I was doing pull-ups last week! What did you think that was?"

"A hallucination!" Eddie says immediately. "You're straight, Harrington!"

At that, Steve snorts, then shakes his head.

Eddie's pretty sure his brain is melting by now.

"Yeah, um, no," Steve says firmly. "I'm definitely not straight."

"You... I... What? Since when?"

"Well..." Steve begins, briefly glancing away. "Since forever, technically. Probably. But officially, since that time I made out with Tommy H. after we got wasted at a party sophomore year. And if that wasn't enough proof, I think the amount of time I’ve spent staring at your ass lately definitely is."

Eddie stares at him. "Am I dead?" he asks dumbly. "Is this Heaven? Am I having a fucking stroke?"

Steve's laughter is bright when it rings through his living room, and Eddie is grateful when Steve carefully raises a hand to cup his cheek, because the soft touch is grounding in the best way. 

"Definitely not dead, Eds," Steve says. "And shit, I hope you're not having a stroke. How many fingers am I holding up?"

Eddie just blinks at him, because Steve has one hand on Eddie's cheek and the other on Eddie's arm, and he's definitely not holding up any fingers. "Zero, Harrington, what the fuck?" he says weakly.

Steve laughs – no, scratch that, he giggles. He fucking giggles. 

If Eddie isn't dead yet, he's about to be. 

"Good. See?" Steve says. "Not having a stroke."

"I don't think that's how strokes work, dude," Eddie says weakly.

"No?" Steve asks, though he's still smiling, and he looks wholly unbothered by Eddie's doubting of his medical prowess.

Eddie shakes his head, eyes wide as Steve huffs out a laugh and slips an arm around his waist to pull him closer. They're practically chest to chest now, and Eddie is suddenly reminded of how very shirtless Steve currently is. He's mildly horrified by the way his hands tremble slightly when he rests them flat against the center of Steve's chest, but it's not like anyone can blame him! He's only ever kissed a couple of people before, and now he's somehow found himself in the arms of a half naked Steve Harrington. So, yeah, he's feeling a little jittery. Sue him.

If Steve notices the jitters, though, he doesn't mention it. Instead, he gives Eddie a soft, disarming smile that makes Eddie feel pathetically weak at the knees. "So..." Steve says, cheeks turning a pretty pink color. "Hi."

A slightly manic bark of laughter bursts from Eddie's lungs, but it only seems to make Steve smile wider. "Yeah, hi, Stevie," Eddie breathes. 

And then he nearly stops breathing completely when Steve's thumb drags gently across his cheek. It's such a sweet gesture that Eddie thinks he might melt right into the floorboards.

"So..." Steve murmurs again, gaze not leaving Eddie's. "It has recently been brought to my attention that you didn't realize I was flirting with you this whole time."

Eddie doesn't need a mirror to know that his face flushes bright red at Steve's words.

"But I have been," Steve continues. He bites his lip, almost like he's nervous, which is ridiculous because what the fuck is there about Eddie that could be making Steve Harrington nervous right now? "Like, I've been doing it constantly, because you're funny, and sweet, and sort of adorable, but also kinda hot? Y'know, because you have the tattoos and stuff, and you're all dramatic all the time, and it's hot, but then sometimes you do that thing where you hide your face behind your hair, and it's so fucking cute, Eddie, I mean..."

Steve trails off, cheeks growing even pinker after seemingly realizing that he's been rambling, and Eddie feels like he's going insane.

"Anyway," Steve says, clearing his throat. "I like you, Eddie. Like, a lot. And I've sort of been dying to kiss you for, like, months, so-"

Eddie never lets Steve finish his sentence, because the moment the word kiss leaves his mouth, Eddie is leaning forward and pressing their lips together in a soft, fleeting kiss that's over far too fast.

So fast, in fact, that it takes a moment for reality to catch up to Eddie afterwards. He's already pulling away by the time it hits him: he just kissed Steve Harrington.

He, Eddie fucking Munson, just kissed Steve fucking Harrington.

"Holy shit," Eddie mutters, gaze flitting back and forth between Steve's wide eyes. "Holy shit."

There's a brief pause, and then Steve starts to laugh.

It starts as a soft chuckle and slowly transforms into bright, elated laughter that echoes off the walls and bathes the whole room in sunlight, never mind the rainy day outside. It's light and happy and beautiful, and Eddie unfreezes after a moment to add his own laughter to the mix. He drops his head onto Steve's shoulder, a shiver running down his spine when Steve's arms come around him automatically, like they were made to fit together like this.

Eddie wonders if maybe they were.

When their laughter finally dies down, Steve carefully pulls back just enough to meet Eddie's eyes again, and Eddie smiles shyly up at him.

"Sorry," Eddie says without a hint of guilt in his voice. "You said the word kiss and I panicked."

Steve just shakes his head and grins. "See? Like I said - adorable." One of his hands raises to cradle Eddie's cheek again, and Eddie doesn't hesitate before leaning into the touch. "But if it's okay with you," Steve says softly, “I'd really like to give you a proper kiss, now."

And yep, it's official. Steve Harrington is going to be the death of him.

Eddie can't fucking wait.

He nods and lets his gaze flit down to Steve's lips for a fraction of a second before Steve is closing the distance between them, and oh... this is so much better than the quick, vaguely frantic press of lips they exchanged only a few moments ago. Eddie takes back every judgemental comment he's ever made about the girls who were obsessed with Steve Harrington in high school, because he gets it now.

Oh, God, he gets it.

Because Steve kisses him, soft and sure, like Eddie is the only thing that matters in all the world. It's gentle and sweet and perfect – not an ounce of hesitation in the way Steve slots their lips together. And then Steve just... stays there, like he's giving Eddie a moment to catch up, to process what's happening.

He's so goddamn patient – so fucking kind – and Christ, Eddie adores him for it.

Steve pulls back just enough to break the kiss, and Eddie doesn't whine. He doesn't. But it's okay, because Steve doesn't leave him hanging for long, threading his fingers through Eddie's curls and using them as leverage to tug him even closer into a kiss that turns Eddie's legs to jelly. Steve's tongue slides against Eddie's so beautifully, and his hands are so strong, and he smells like lemony soap and minty toothpaste (did Steve brush his teeth after showering? God, he's ridiculous. He’s perfect.) and Eddie can feel the muscles in Steve's chest shift whenever they move, and, and, and...

And yeah, this time when Steve pulls away, breath coming quicker and eyes shining with happiness, Eddie does whine. Or maybe it's a whimper. Maybe it's both. Christ, Eddie doesn't care. He'll keep making that noise forever if Steve keeps looking at him like this.

"Fuck," Eddie breathes. He knows he probably looks embarrassingly awestruck, but he can't find it in himself to care. "How are you so fucking hot, Steve? What the fuck?" His face is on fire, but Steve just laughs – nope, there's that giggle again – and kisses Eddie's forehead.

Eddie's pretty sure he's melting, but honestly? Worth it.

"I don't know if you've noticed," Steve teases, "but I've actually been working out a lot lately..."

Not even Eddie's lovesickness could protect Steve from the playful smack he gets for that.

"Did I notice?" Eddie huffs. "You're the worst, Harrington."

Steve just smiles and kisses him again.

[gunstellations]

a little family

[weregonnabecoolbeans]

Julian Blackthorn’s constant awareness of his siblings is both so heartwarming and so heartbreaking to read

[lucabyte]

If you wouldn't mind, could you explain to me in detail how your sifloop works? Would there ever be a romantic relationship between the two (and how do you think they would get to that stage) or do you just think they'll be stuck in this weird messed up obsession and loathing loop forever? Anyway your takes on sifloop are my favourite if you couldn't tell

Oh, I've been depicting it as romantic the whole time (remembers I'm asexual and aromantic and thus my depictions of such are alien at best) Er, though you'd be forgiven for not noticing.

I know I don't draw them being particularly traditionally cute (kissing, cuddling, etc) (even though I do envision that any time it's not literally extremely inconvenient that they are entangled like a pair of magnetised squiddles) particularly often.*

(Though, I do have some hints at that kind of behaviour: (x) (x) (x)) But this is where, hm, my particular readings of these characters' self-assessment comes in.

I believe that I (an aroace tumblr user who has been immersed in nuianced language about such things since i was an early teen) and Siffrin/Loop (a guy approaching their thirties who seems to have escaped social pressures primarily via isolation from their peers) will have some different views on things. Hell, Sif/Loop don't even have words for Asexuality and Aromanticism even if they seem to be able to point toward the feeling with roundabout language.

I think that their relationship, in the way that it would manifest, would first and foremost be Physical. Some real Maslow's hierarchy shit. Both of them are viciously touch starved and given the whole shared-ownership-of-body thing I keep alluding to (x) (x) I think they are prone to being a tangled pile of limbs both clothed and unclothed.

Now I (enlightened modern day asexual) do not think that physical/sexual/romantic are in any way synonyms unless you want them to be. I believe that literally all associated behaviours of these can be platonic if that's how you feel about it. Howeverrrrrrr. I really cannot envision "black-and-white-thinking-world-champion siffrin and/or loop" being able to disentangle that so easily. I think they would have trouble squaring the circle of certain actions not being reserved for romance, at least not until after several years of continued unpacking and philosophical discussion with Mirabelle and Odile.

And then there's the part where Siffrin/Loop (and also Isabeau!) have some absolutely insane Jealous streaks. Not even on the downlow, they just do. I think that combination of jealousy and posessiveness when paired with unevenly splitting time between A Guy You're Established To Be (at the very least on his side, romantically) In Love With, and Your Weird Fucking Clone Who You Keep Being Intimate And Intensely Emotional With, is going to cause some problems when it comes to labelling things.

I do not think Sif/Loop are stupid, but man do they ever lack emotional intelligence in a lot of areas (a thing the whole game hammers home). I do not think that they would be level-headed enough to independently invent the idea of "QPR, but the kind where you do basically fuck sometimes". I think they would just (agonise over cheating, first of all.) call it a romantic pairing and be done with it.

And then Isabeau is also there I guess. I gesture at him and at my aforementioned Iseabeau Torment Nexus thoughts (x)(x). I believe this polycule can work and even be healthy but hahahaha oh man they are gonna have some weirrrrrrd fuckin tension beforehand lolllll.

as for how i think they'd get to that stage? lol, lmao. I think of things with a lens of 'what would be the most narratively intense' a lot of the time, so my answer there is:

They basically act like one right out of the gate, at least to the average onlooker**. This makes the fights feel worse. This makes them both paranoid in different ways about how this affects Siffrin's relationship to Isabeau. This makes it more difficult for the party to go "hey so, your friend, we're all being very accepting of their sharp edges because they're clearly someone who's struggling, but why are they suuuuch an asshole?". They fret about this and it causes more push and pull as either side feels guilty about this relationship they're not 'supposed' to have. Even if their relationship woes could easily be squared away by either categorising it as a QPR or talking to Isa (who is vaugardian and probably thus lax about polyamory) neither of them are going to do that right out of the gate because they lack the language, are prone to being wracked by guilt, often assume the worst will happen should they talk about difficult topics, and straight up maybe just see intimacy/sexuality/romance as a package deal due to lacking the social expertise... You see what I mean.

I don't Know if what I envision is... The literal platonic ideal of "A Romantic Relationship". I don't know that if Cupid came on down and inspected my brain that they'd agree that this is romantic and not just like, something really fucking weird, man. I don't even know if I would call it romantic, necessarily. BUT. I Do Think. That These Two. Would Maybe Label It That Way. Because it would make it easier for them to understand and come to peace with that way. Which is what matters. Labels are Descriptive, not Prescriptive.

What I DO think i envision however is something so fucking aroace brained that i can point to sif/loop's canon labels, point to MY labels, and then give you a big thumbs up hoping that you won't get on my ass for implying several sentences upstream that "they probably basically fuck, or something, idk, does star-sucking count as sex? i'm not a doctor nor medical professional of any kind. you probably shouldn't drink whatever comes out of it though"

Implicit question 2: "Jesus Christ you make them seem to hate each other, is that not contradictory? Is that all supposed to be during them being romantically involved?" Yup! Sorry for the subtle undercurrent I haven't previously explicitly and overtly established literally at all but a good chunk of that percieved hatred is a byproduct of Loop keeping their identity secret. That's the space wherein I set most of my fanart. (x) Once that cat is out of the bag I think the heat cools off significantly because then they aren't both talking around each other trying not to actually say what they're fighting about. They can actually bond about shared experiences out in the open rather than keeping their traps shut in case the party overhears. They still fight and have problems thereafter, but it's not made worse by being unable to directly discuss the core issue (+ the party can actually contribute/try to shut things down rather than being unclear on what exactly the issue is)

The above ALSO not helping when it comes to jealousy/feelings of infidelity re: Isabeau. (When specifically in the context of Romantic Frustration here, since that jealousy extends to the whole party when generalised) So that adds another thing to, not necessarily fight about, but be bitter over.

As for hatred being contradictory. Mmm. Nah.

The opposite of Love is not Hate. It is Indifference. (A theme ISAT notably gets at). Hate is distinctly something you do if you care. Often if you care Way Too Much.

I try not to write them hating each other, so much as feeling extremely intensely about each other. (x)

Feeling intensely Thankful, Understood, Sorry, Trapped, Devoted, Jealous, Protective, Pitying, Indebted...

^ Scary ! Complicated ! Hard to deal with ! Even the positive ones can be overwhelming! It's gonna make things weird!

So uh, Yeah. There's your answer? I suppose tl;dr: I view relationships as nebulous and only defined by those in it. (This is something I have previously yapped about at length in essays about my OCs lol) And generally view that there's no "true" label for any relationship except the one that doesn't cause undue distress. (which. i mean it does here. but it probably works out in the end with enough talking)

Asking me to define if something is romantic is like asking me to pin down the true form of the Human Soul. Like dawg i dont know how to do that i dont even know if that shit is real. there are merely actions and their constructed societal categories. If i tell you I think they kiss sometimes does that clear it up? (It shouldn't, obviously, but you get what I mean)

But yeah. Gestures broadly. Shipping an ace (and maybe even aroace based on some shit that little fella says) character like this means it comes with an essay. Because it necessarily interfaces with their nonstandard mode of interaction in that arena. The part where its weirdo fucking ♠ ♥ ♦ ♣ selfcest merely adds a layer.***

... Anyway I'll leave you with this. The mirasifloop qpr "so what is.... romance?" discussion sessions are probably downright dialectical aren't they. Feelings Buddies discuss the phrase "Self-Love" 23467324235 dead 3 injured

*i do have like . 2 wips. that would. include this kind of behaviour explicitly. but i simply have not gotten around to them yet. and also don't worry neither of them are purely fluff both of them still have an air of worrying fuckedupedness about them. yay !

** inkeeping with my "geared for maximal conflict" mind, this can be flavoured with some "technically nobody can say it's not canon, I guess?" during-the-game Sifloop. By handing them the 'started leaning on each other for comfort more blatantly toward the end of a4' thing, since, well, I think exploring the "Loop expected at least one of them to be dead by the end of this/Loop never expected this to end, and thus began filling in that 'Lover' role as comfort/pity/selfishness/mercy given their knowledge that Isabeau is forever out of reach for both of/at least one of them" angle is... Well it's certainly fuckin' compelling that's for sure. Like oops, you let the timeloop malaise get to you and maybe started a trist because you thought you'd be dead before there'd be any lasting consequences. Here's those consequences, motherfucker !! But you won't catch me putting that explicitly in my comics because I don't want to change anything about the raw text of canon when I'm exploring its consequences. However, nothing I do is Incompatible with this read. And I enjoy making things more tortured so. Shrugs and hands this to you. Be free. (....x)

*** those of you that know what i mean by this just had all of it click just now didnt you. lol.