#but also i wanna finish the Long Fic

[house-on-sand]

tempted to work on one of my wips. tempted to start a new one....

[arcanegifs]

Three CaitVi fics I've read over the holigays

be but sworn my love (E) by antant616

This fic is literally the trope of: slow burn but they're fucking the entire time. Also, CaitVi here are exes who are forced to play Romeo and Juliet in a play and ooooo the drama! I'm HOOKED.

Dear Stranger, (T) by becasbelt | tumblr

If you want to cry, read this. Absolutely beautiful canon-compliant fic. And for real, just read all of Anne's works. They're amazing ❤️

lucid dreams ‘bout you (M) by rosetattoos

Oh GOD I've never been so happy to see an update for a fic before. The last time this librarian!cait fic updated was like two years ago, and I gave up waiting for it. But lo and behold, what a GIFT for the holidays!!

[bunnieswithknives]

Wow Dale I didn't know you liked entomology! 💕

[shima-draws]

Me: BRO. Can you imagine if Luffy activated Gear 5 2 years earlier at Marineford

AO3: Hey boo I gotchu

Me: AY-YO????

[thegreatyin]

And thus, with the passing of 24 hours, Caeru's ambition truly comes to an end. Major Nemesis spoilers below the cut- we're talking endgame ambition business here. Mostly on a character RP front.

The Doomed Scientist made quite a few... choice decisions, in the end. Killing Cups once and for all, recording his story as one of grief-

And sparing what little remained of Mr Mirrors, leaving it free to roam Parabola as it sees fit.

Some of them, he can explain. Others, he's still left to feel... discontent.

Cups needed to die. That much was certain from the start. It was a tyrant, as all Masters are, and complicit in the bargaining and eventual destruction of four (potentially five) cities, as all Masters are. It was an obstacle. A murderer. A petty monster that felt no remorse even on its deathbed, and it went out of its way to ruin multiple lives just because it felt owed its own sick and twisted idea of revenge.

It killed his first love. It looked him in the eyes and he knew what it had done and he knew from the start it was going to die.

Perhaps, in the end, it knew too. And yet it still pleaded, and wanted to live, and-

It made a bargain.

A bargain Caeru didn't take.

Not because he didn't want to. Gods, he wanted to. He wanted it. He wanted it more than anything else in the world. To have Greylu back, to give him the gift of life, of love, to show him the wonders of the Neath and the beauty of the correspondence and all of the people Caeru has met and loved and found home with along the way-

But. He couldn't.

Because Cups was a monster. And no matter what, it deserved to die. And he could not, in good conscience, allow it to live.

Even if sparing it meant everything he's ever wanted.

So he's left here, now. With a bloodied traveling coat, and a bloodsoaked knife, and a favor finally fulfilled.

And nothing to live for. No resurrected lover, no charming visits to Helicon, no slow dances in the living room, no memories to rebuild and lives to live and he won't live again-

Nothing. All he has is a coat born of obligation, not to his love, but to people he's never even met. To lives he's never even touched. To a paramour, still alive, with hair of rose-pink, who doesn't even remember her own brother's existence.

Cups didn't die for Caeru's sake. Cups died for the sake of all who wanted it dead. For the revenger's court, and the ghost screaming in his ear, and the reckoning that will not be postponed indefinitely.

And Caeru, who acted as a tool to carry out their wills? Who all but betrayed his own lover, just to satisfy a cause he never knew existed?

All Caeru is left with, is regret. Regret-

-And grief.

[daffi-990]

Seven(ish) Sentence Sunday ✍️

Tagged by @wikiangela 😘

Haven’t had the brain capacity to get much writing done since Friday, but I did manage to tippity type a little something something for LA Lonely 🏙️ . So have some of Buck’s inner self deprecating thoughts.

Prev snippet here

As the weekend rolls into Monday, Buck tries not to think about Eddie but somehow the guy has burrowed under his skin, an itch that Buck can’t scratch. He finds himself doing a double take at every fit, 6 foot brunette man that he encounters while on a call, both disappointed and relieved that they aren’t who he’s hoping for.

Not that he’s hoping to run into Eddie again. The guy didn’t leave his number or take Buck’s, and Buck’s been playing this game for so long he knows what that means. Because Buck is only good for one night, maybe a weekend if he’s lucky. No one wants to take a chance on him.

He’s used to it, so he doesn’t understand why he can’t get Eddie out of his head. The sex was good - incredible actually - and Eddie was hot. And kind. And his smile could light up an entire room. And Buck really needed to get a grip.

Eddie had his fun and then he left. Just like everyone else.

No pressure tagging: @diazsdimples @spotsandsocks @hippolotamus @lover-of-mine @wikiangela @wildlife4life @athenagranted @watchyourbuck @devirnis @dangerpronebuddie @goforkinard @bigfootsmom @bidisasterbuckdiaz @exhuastedpigeon @elvensorceress @evankinard @eddiebabygirldiaz @rainbow-nerdss @thewolvesof1998 @try-set-me-on-fire @theotherbuckley @tizniz @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @shortsighted-owl @sibylsleaves @donationwayne @fortheloveofbuddie @giddyupbuck @honestlydarkprincess @homerforsure @hoodie-buck @jesuisici33 @king-buckley @ladydorian05 @loserdiaz @captain-hen @bekkachaos @neverevan @nmcggg @missmagooglie @mellaithwen @monsterrae1 @spagheddiediaz @sunshinediaz and as always, anyone who wants to join in and share something -> consider this your official tag.

Also sorry if I forgot anyone .. there’s been a few url changes and it’s gotten a bit confusing 🫤

[vilsoo]

im already 3 months overdue but if i still try to post the rest of my kinktober would yall still read them? 😔

[voidbeau]

!!!🌹Thorn and Mr. Flower🌿 tiiime!!!

And boy I will never not be so so enthusiastic about these guyz <333

I touched on the dynamics of their relationship in a previous post on my last account before it was terminated. But seeing as that post is lost at sea now, I'll do a bit of recap on that.

Just to have everything neatly in one post.

And then I gotta remember to save this post in a separate document or something in case something happens to this account...

Anyway, the boyz 🌹🌿

---

So, as I've mentioned previously, I've always pictured Mr. Flower and Thorn's relationship to have extremely rocky beginnings.

We're talking, tons of baggage on both sides.

Trust issues from one end and desperate clinging on the other in the form of big promises and what may or may not be tons of lip service.

Not to mention all the potential secret guarding.

Thorn has some form of charm, sure.

Enough that in the beginning he was able to garner interest from Mr. Flower.

"Sure, maybe we'll see where this goes..."

But as I've said before, my take on Mr. Flower is that he's a very closed off individual.

Getting him to open up is like trying to pry open iron doors with nothing but a couple of toothpicks.

Most people aren't likely to have known anything other than an idealized version of himself. The Mr. Flower he wants you to see.

And that version of Mr. Flower can certainly seem pleasant and easy to talk to, but when exposed to it long enough, it becomes obvious how very surface level it all is, but to Mr. Flower, it's preferable to how he knows he can be.

And if you manage to speak with him with his mask off, then you might find yourself wondering if maybe you prefer the performative version of Mr. Flower.

But that was the idea of course.

Give people a better, more palatable alternative.

There have been very few people who have found the real Mr. Flower tolerable to be around and as such, there have been very few people who have found any reason to stick around.

And that's sort of the expected outcome Mr. Flower has of any potential relationship he gets involved in, whether romantic or platonic or whatever else!

He's learned over the years that it's much easier to just to keep his expectations low and others an arm's length away.

And if anyone gets too close, it's best to retreat before things are liable to become painful.

And if for whatever reason, someone tries to persist when pulling away, it's good to remind that person why they thought to keep a distance in the first place, in whatever manner seems necessary in the moment.

Even if feelings are hurt.

Even if it ends the relationship in that moment.

Better to leave than to be left behind yet again.

"It was doomed to fail anyway..."

This man is walled in on all sides.

And yet despite this, Mr. Flower is plagued by the thinnest rays of troubling thoughts and emotions.

Hopefulness and desire for genuine, lasting companionship appear as annoying cracks in the walls Mr. Flower so carefully built up over the years, and despite the constant reminders why it's best not to leave his miserable fortress of self preservation, he often finds himself with one foot out the front gates far too often.

And that was exactly where Thorn found Mr. Flower, hovering just beyond his gates. Open enough to the world that he began his journey with Mr. Flower with a mask half off.

With a glimpse of a real person behind a carefully crafted persona.

Not enough to tell the whole story, but enough to want to uncover that story. To get the full picture.

How desperately Mr. Flower has tried to slip that mask of his back on as soon as he realizes whats been done.

Unfortunately...

"You should know better sweetheart, your tricks don't work on me."

Because Thorn's already gotten a glimpse, so what on earth is this funny little act you're putting on, Mr. Flower? This isn't the you I remember meeting on that rainy evening.

And while this has ignited the tiny embers of hope in Mr. Flower into a small flame, it's also bewildered and frustrated him.

Because Thorn insists on tugging on the edges of Mr. Flower's mask and unraveling his disguise thread by nervous thread. And it would seem that no amount of pulling away or lashing out is doing anything to dissuade this baffling rose man.

Not for long, at least.

And sure, they get into fights- frustrated back and fourths over each other's characters, and despite Mr. Flower thinking,

"This is it. This time for sure, it has to be. This time he's gone for good..."

Thorn always surprises Mr. Flower when he's the one to come back with an apology. When Thorn assumes he's done something to deserve Mr. Flower's ire. When Thorn goes on to admire those things Mr. Flower tries so hard to keep buried.

"I like that part of you. The real you, and how unapologetically you it is." He says through a toothy grin and an airy chuckle.

And Mr. Flower's stomach twists into knots.

"I love how fiery you are when you're not holding yourself back and I admire the honesty, even if it's a little hard to hear sometimes." Says Thorn.

"And though I wish you'd be just a bit more gentle, I also understand the world hasn't exactly been the most gentle with you."

And as Thorn reaches out to gingerly grab at Mr. Flower's hands, all Mr. Flower can do is swallow back the lump in his throat and watch while Thorn plants a soft kiss on those tense hands of his.

"I wouldn't change a thing about you." He says.

He insists.

"I don't understand you..." Says Mr. Flower, quiet and deadpan as he looks up, searching those half lidded, spiral eyes.

Thorn chuckles again, finding amusement over the concern and confusion on Mr. Flower's face, yet never missing the detail of those fanned out ear petals and how they twitch so enthusiastically every so often.

"It's easier to see the details close up." Thorn says, his thumbs caressing Mr. Flower's hands now. "Let me in and I promise it'll make sense."

A simple request, barely above a whisper and it sends Mr. Flower's heart racing and his mind screaming.

He's flooded with thoughts and emotions pulling him in every which direction.

Does he just let that happen? Or does he run as far and fast as his legs can take him?

He isn't sure, and he's frozen in place while Thorn waits patiently for an answer, until he realizes he may not get one in the moment.

"But-... if you're not ready that's okay. I can wait." Says Thorn now, gently letting those hands go as he takes a step back.

And Mr. Flower has to stamp out that desire to close the gap again.

The problem here is that Thorn is all Mr. Flower has left with in the moment.

Perhaps its not so much a problem as it is a solution?

But the idea of relying so heavily on someone is terrifying to Mr. Flower, especially when he knows so little about them.

And while Thorn continues to insist things will be okay and strives to convince Mr. Flower he can be trusted with the monumental task of getting to really know Mr. Flower.

Some things come up.

Something always comes up.

Time goes on and everytime Mr. Flower is at the threshold of his decision, something new comes to light about Thorn that leaves Mr. Flower second guessing everytime.

And everytime he considers that it might be best to leave this one in the dust with all the others, Thorn tugs Mr. Flower back into the same confusing cycle.

"C'mon, babe. It's not like that!"

"I promise it'll make sense, love just give it time."

"I know it sounds crazy, but..."

"I want to tell you, but...

And Mr. Flower is getting tired.

Tired of the secrets, the excuses the half truths. Tired of being talked up and let down every. single. time.

"You keep telling me to open up when I'm not even sure I've ever known who you are!"

And indeed, how can any man be expected to trust a stranger and to love someone you've hardly met?

And yet Mr. Flower is caught in the thickest part of a thorny bramble patch, unable to leave either by his own indecisiveness or because Thorn simply won't let him.

Because despite all the turmoil and uncertainty, there have been very real moments of that genuine connection Mr. Flower craved for so long.

Or at least, he thought there had been.

It's hard to say, and while Thorn insists that yes, of course they were genuine, it's difficult to take him at his word when he's constantly sneaking off late at night, constantly preoccupied with an old flame and always going off about these grand claims he swears are true, in place of the answers Mr. Flower so consistently pleads for.

"I don't understand you..."

"I know, sweetheart I know. Please give it some more time.

I promise it will all make sense."

A few things are for certain about Thorn that Mr. Flower has come to learn.

One is that he is a very busy and singularly minded man, and two is that there are very few things in the world that will come between Thorn and his many mysterious plans.

And the third, it would seem, is that Mr. Flower is not among the exceptions, no matter how much Thorn insists how important Mr. Flower is to him.

There are things that absolutely need changing, and while there are ways in which I could see the two working things out, they are not Without their trials.

Physically, mentally, emotionally, nobody is coming out unscathed. But sometimes you need to tear things apart in order to build anew.

A lot of Thorn's secretiveness is for valid reasons, though I won't go into too much detail cause I have fics planned- even if they take me YEARS to finish.

I will say, he is genuinely in love with Mr. Flower, and while he's not in the greatest place for him to be able to express it like he wants to, I've always imagined that Mr. Flower has a way of grounding Thorn when he gets all caught up in all his mystery work.

And boy howdy is it work.

But it's all worth it if it means securing a future where he can live in peace with his beloved Mr. Flower.

So long as they can weather the current storm.

The way I've seen it is that Thorn showed up around the time Mr. Flower and Mr. Plant began drifting, and since Mr. Flower doesn't have a lot of actual friends, losing the only one he felt he had was surprisingly hard for Mr. Flower to navigate.

He's been alone so long he thought he'd be fine. But thats the issue, Mr. Flower has been alone so long that he's not equipped with the proper tools for maintaining and fixing proper relationships.

Thorn has been a real conundrum for Mr. Flower on top of it all.

He's been as much of a learning experience in the department of communication as he has been a source of stress.

He's been an unlikely steadying hand and also another reason for Mr. Flower to be cautious.

He's heard and learned more about Thorn from others than he's ever learned from Thorn himself, except that Thorn is one large, walking, frustrating mystery to Mr. Flower.

There is definitely more to Thorn than meets the eye and as things progress and Mr. Flower is faced with terrifying revelations about Mr. Plant, Mr. Flower becomes more and more terrified about the things Thorn could actively be hiding.

They are just two performers on separate stages.

And they need to start learning how to get their act together because there's a lot more uncertainty and terrors on the horizon for these two.

----

And also @thatgirlwithasquid since you said you'd be interested in the read. ; v;

[overly-verbose]

Seriously, bro's a professional yapper lmfao

Tbf it's not completely unprovoked and he does just want to at least try explaining some things, if in a roundabout way, to make people more at ease (if not in the moment then overall) but, well-

sometimes it has the opposite effect lmao 😂

Also like, it's absolutely hilarious how I thought

'oh but this is just, like three scenes - how long could this be'

but all the freaking talking and stuff that everyone's doing is making Part 8 the second longest in the series 😂😂😂💀😂

(I fear for my poor brain, man - we've only just barely almost covered the Detention Center Arc

(and a little bit of the VS Mahito Arc Mahito Gets Curse PTSD Arc but I do wanna fill in some of the gaps between those)

and it's already gonna be over 40k words???

Why am I being so ambitious for my first ever proper writing project frrr *perishes a bit*

but I do hope to get it to the end - and beyond because there's no way I wouldn't constantly add to the post-main-plot shenanigans lol - however long that takes heh (just try to be patient with me pls I try my best here 😂) 👍)

[gothsuguru]

pspsppsps….. kairo……………

….. thoughts :33c……..

(also ily and i miss you and i hope you’re taking care of yourself!!!! reading manga and relaxing and eating well <333 mwahh)

FIRST THOUGHTS . THAT MAN IS MOTHERFATHER……… a milfdilf if i’ve ever seen one the motherfatherism at first glance is LITERALLY off the scales…………… ALSO THE LOWLIDDED EYES + SMIRK + SLIGHTLY CONDESCENDING YET KIND POSE……… AND THE WHITE HAIR??? RAHHHHHHHHHH I NEED HIM BADDDDDDDDD

i am looking at Him . Respectfully <3 omg but he really does look SO cool i LOOOOOOOVE the red & black combo it’s The Most Elite combo known to mankind and then couple that w white long hair??? deelishus <333 AND THE LIONDNNDNDNDN satoru gojo is that you…

ALSO :3 ILY AND I MISS YOU TOO <333 idk why but my energy for typing has lessened over the weeks so i’ve just been reading hehe (YOU NEEEEEEEED TO READ THE ELUSIVE SAMURAI & SAKAMOTO DAYS… best mangas ever created they have the kairo stamp of approval i cried during elusive samurai & was Shook by sakamoto days at every turn god these mangas are so good omfg………)

ANOTHER ALSO!!!! HOW ARE YOUUUUUUU FRIEND :3 i hope everything is going well & that you’re resting up hehe i read the dilfguru drabble and my heart and brain are healed TRUST ME i’m gonna be sobbing in the tags of it soon like #Trust #Me

^ also you ^_^

[flowercrowngods]

nice to meet you, where you been? (steddie tattoo shop au)

🌷 part 1 | part 2 (or read on ao3) | T – 12.3k – 3/3 🌷

part 3: fallingforyou (5k)

in which the boys finally have that date

Eddie doesn’t even make it home before his phone vibrates, revealing a new message from an unknown number. 

Unknown: hi i was a bit dumb and didn’t ask for your number but i figured you’d be cool if i take it from the form you filled out for the tat. hope that’s fine! 👀 

Steve: oh this is steve by the way

Eddie snorts and leans against the lamp post beside him. It’s a bit stupid, the way he just essentially drops everything to text a boy; but he’s always been like that, and he sure as hell isn’t gonna change that for Steve fucking Harrington! In fact, he has a feeling it might only get worse from here on out. 

Eddie: Aw and here I thought this was Brad. I even drew a little heart beside my phone number on the tattoo form :( Steve: pff please you’d never get a tattoo from someone named brad Steve: that’s not even a real name  Steve: people named brad aren’t real Eddie: Brad is ghosting me and you’re joking about it, Harrington, I cannot believe this 💔 Steve: i’ll make it up to you Steve: are you free on saturday? Eddie: Only if Brad doesn’t un-ghost me 😔 Steve: menace :D Eddie: I’m getting your tattoo removed as we speak!!! Eddie: !!!!!! Steve: :( Eddie: That’s what you get, Stevie. That’s what you wanna take on a date.

Eddie’s heart is hammering in his chest, the wide grin faltering a little when he realises what he just said. He called it a date. Is that right? Is that what Steve wants? Is that what they’re doing? There is a chance that Steve only wants to catch up, hang out as friends. Queer friends that can’t exactly stop smiling at each other, who occasionally get lost in each other’s eyes, who flirt, who…

Damn. He’s not objecting to a friendship with Steve. Hell, it would probably be one of the best things to happen to him right after his band and the soulmate-ism with Chrissy! But the thing is, he’d have a massive crush to get over first. 

There, he’s admitting it now. He has a crush on Steve Harrington like he’s never had a crush like this on anyone before, ever, in his whole entire life. Except once, in high school, for nearly two years. On Steve Harrington. Fucking dammit, he is so cliché. He’s leaning against a lamppost, grinning down at his phone, and everything! 

And Steve isn’t typing anymore. Eddie is kind of dying. How’d this man get this much power over him in the matter of, what, like a week? 

Eddie: Not too late to back out of that by the way Steve: are you kidding me?? Steve: bro i would take you on that date right now instead of waiting until saturday Steve: but alas

‘Alas’! The boy knows words! 

Eddie’s heart is doing a somersault in his chest — and if anyone asks, no, that’s not him giggling down at his phone out on the streets like a helpless little gay boy with his first real, butterflies kind of crush. 

Eddie: Oh damn, you're a real go-getter, aren't you, Steebie? Eddie: Wait Eddie: Did you just call me bro Eddie: DID YOU JUST CALL ME BRO STEVEN Eddie: B R O ?????? Eddie: Is that what we are 😔

Steve: drowning my phone as we speak 

Steve:if you need me no you don't

And if Eddie is cackling at that, laughing, blushing, hiding his face behind his curls, no, he is not. 

Giggling, blushing, and feeling so very alive, Eddie hits the call button and hopes that Steve didn’t actually drown his phone and went to leave the country. 

But luck, it turns out, favours him today, because Steve picks up on the first ring. 

“Hi, bro,” Eddie says, still laughing. On the other end of the line, Steve is groaning, but Eddie can hear something even better. “Oh my God, is that Nobody’s Perfect you’re listening to? From Hannah Montana?” 

“Picking up the phone was a mistake,” Steve sighs without any real heat, and Eddie just wants to go all the way back and watch him. Chin on his hands and all. Just watch Steve as he closes up, listening to ridiculous songs that make him call people bro as he’s flirting with them, and tell him how beautiful he looks in clothes that are not designed to make people look this perfect. 

“So what was that about taking me on a date right now?” Eddie asks instead of saying any of that, listening as the music gets quieter over the line. 

There’s a moment of silence and Eddie imagines Steve shrugging. He’s adorable even in Eddie’s head. He lives in there now. Rent free, just pretty and sassy and not at all bro-like. 

“Stevie?” 

“Uh. Yeah, that was, uh. Sorry.” 

“What for?” 

A huff, some shuffling, and Eddie yearns. He feels it in his hands, the way they’re tingling, aching to reach out, to hold, to keep. 

Steve sighs, then speaks. “Nothing, just a whole narrative of things that make me sound like the clingiest dude, so let’s pretend I didn’t say a thing?” 

Eddie smiles before he knows it, because Steve might be saying what he thinks he’s saying, and he’s being shy about it. Shy! Steve! Eddie never stood a chance. 

“You miss me already, Mister Kettle?” 

“Maybe.” And God. How is he so charismatic even when he’s shy and most probably blushing? Steve Harrington, force of nature specifically designed to wreck Eddie’s little heart and soul and universe. 

“Say the word and I’ll come back, Stevie,” Eddie says, and he finds that he means it. He doesn’t have plans, Chrissy isn’t home to tell him he’s not dreaming, and he has this ache, this tingling in his chest, his arms, his hands. This feeling that tells him he has to go hug Steve right this second and not let go for the next five to seven business decades. 

There’s a huff and the ache only gets stronger. 

“In fact, Steeb-o, it’s actually testing every ounce of strength this mind and body possess not to jump back into the subway and make my way over to you. So, like. Say the word. I think I might literally be begging you to go ahead and say the word, give me an excuse to be annoying and clingy.” 

Steve chuckles and he sounds both relieved and stricken, and Eddie wants to know. He wants to know what’s happening inside that pretty little head. He needs to know what Steve thinks, what he wants, what he sees, what his world is like. 

This is crush of his is moving incredibly fast. And still it’s far from enough for Eddie, and he knows that’s kinda not good, not healthy, a bit dangerous possibly. But it seems to be the same for Steve. Like maybe they’re bad influences for each other. 

Like catalysts for destruction. But how would the boy who shines like gold in the sunlight destroy him? The boy who listens to Nobody’s Perfect when he’s cleaning and closing up, the boy who tapes up his shirt sleeve so Eddie won’t have to take off his shirt, the boy who has a whole binder of weird-ass tattoos and the softest touch, the quickest mouth, the sharpest tongue, meeting Eddie’s banter head-on like it’s all they’ve been doing since taking their first breath of shared air. 

It’s not destruction that’s happening. It’s something much, much more terrifying. It has Eddie’s heart beating in his throat all the same. 

“Let me take you on a real date,” Steve says then. “When I didn’t have a long day at work. When I won’t say stupid shit. Okay, Eddie?” 

The yearning doesn’t stop, not when Steve says his name like that, in that smiling way he has. Part of him wants to object, wants to insist to turn around and spend more time with Steve. He wants to kick himself, wants to apologise for just running out of the shop like that. If he hadn’t, maybe they could go on that date now. 

But Steve’s exhausted, and he deserves better than Eddie being actually clingy and annoying about this. Boundaries. No matter how tingly his arms are. 

“Of course,” is what he says. “Sorry.” 

“Not at all,” Steve hurries, that casualness back in his voice that makes Eddie want to go eat a tree. “I think I started that, anyway.” 

“Yeah, when you called me bro,” Eddie adds, snickering. 

Steve groans again. “I hate you.” 

“And for good reason, too, bro.” 

“I’m hanging up on you, Edwin.” 

“Can’t believe you continuously hate-crime me, Steve Rogers.” 

“Captain America? You won’t hear me complaining.” 

Eddie snorts. “You’re so easy, man.” 

“Goodbye, Eddie,” Steve laughs, and Eddie wants to soak it up. Live inside that laugh. 

“Bye, Stevie.”

And then the line goes dead, and Eddie finds himself still leaning against the lamppost, stupid grin on his face, face half hidden behind his hair. There is that nice sting of a new tattoo on his arm, the late summer air is breezing through his jacket, and the upbeat Powerwolf song picks up where Eddie left it when Steve called. 

It’s a good day. A great day. A wonderful, perfect, absolutely breathtaking day. 

Eddie is a bundle of nerves and anxiety by the time Saturday rolls around. He’s spent more time in Chrissy’s bed than in his own and they went over the whole, What if he finds out I’m actually the most boring person on this planet? ordeal, which has gained him a pillow to the head and a big, big hug. He’s not complaining. 

But he also is decidedly not calm when he sees Steve rounding the corner. Not when he sees the guy breaking into a huge smile that puts even the sun to shame, and especially not when he spots the flowers in the guy’s hands. Flowers for him. Flowers that make his heart skip.

God, he’s so lame. 

“Hey,” Steve says, still smiling, except now Eddie can see he’s blushing. Blushing! 

Abort mission, abort mission! Eddie cannot do this. He is not cut out to dating pretty boys that blush and bring him flowers. 

“Hi,” he says, feet rooted to the ground as he feels his own blush rising to his cheeks. “Are those for me?” 

“No, actually they’re for Brad. I’m surprised to meet you here, this is kinda awkward now.” Steve’s looking around in a theatrical manner and Eddie hates him so much, he is so lame! 

Except now they’re both laughing and Eddie is pulling Steve into a tight, warm hug. It feels so intimate, the way Steve’s face is pressed against the crook of his neck, his arms tight around Eddie’s middle. And the little hum when Steve’s laughter subsides sends shivers down his back.

He was right, actually. Holding Steve is the best thing his arms could do, and he never wants to let go. 

“Hi,” he says again after a while, closing his eyes and smiling into Steve’s shoulder. 

“Hey.” 

This is going great. Neither of them seems in the mood to let go anytime soon. 

But then Steve takes a step back and holds out his flowers to Eddie. They’re dried flowers, the same he has in the little vases in his tattoo parlour, and they smell amazing. It’s ridiculously cute. Everything about Steve makes Eddie want to explode and scream and laugh and cry and take the deepest breath of his lifetime. 

“I would have given you fresh ones, but I feel like that would have been a bit sad if they can’t get water, and these ones will probably last you a bit longer, too. I hope that’s fine?”

It’s fine. It’s so, so fine. God, it’s so lame, but it’s so fine, and Eddie wants to scream again. Instead, he takes the flowers and goes in for another hug. Steve chuckles and breathes a tiny little sigh of relief that Eddie soaks right up. 

“Thank you, Stevie,” he murmurs. “I love them, actually. Very metal, to bring me dead flowers, actually.” 

At that, Steve sputters and shoves away from him, still laughing. “Yeah, I figured you’re weird enough to enjoy dead flowers more than dying ones.” 

“Touché, Steven. Touché.” 

“You're so weird,” Steve says and then nudges their shoulders together. “Now come on, mister tough guy metal man.” 

“Oh, I’m gonna have that be my actual title. Can I legally make you address me like that?”

Steve eyes him from the side and says, in the most serious tone, “I won’t say anything without my lawyer.” 

Eddie cackles at that, feeling elated and excited and just really fucking good. Steve makes him feel all those good things that people have been talking about forever, and it’s only just the first date. He’s helpless. Can’t stop looking at Steve, sneaking glances and hiding behind his hair when Steve meets them, looking so fucking fond that it makes Eddie want to run away again. 

It’s intense in a way that Eddie has never experienced. And they talk. Oh, but they talk. About everything and nothing, and it feels so natural. He learns more about Steve’s best friend Robin, he still doesn’t know the name of his little tattoo angel friend, and it turns out walking around town with Steve is an experience, because you can’t take the guy anywhere. 

Every five minutes there’s someone waving, excited to see him, or even just nodding as they pass them on the street. It kind of adds to his sunny disposition and makes Eddie feel like he’s stepped into a parallel universe, like he’s witnessing something primal to the human experience. Something like joy, like fascination, like the universal constant that is being drawn to Steve Harrington. 

And he’s staring, smile on his lips, when Steve notices. 

“What?” he asks, sounding a bit shy underneath that amusement as he pays for ice cream and hands Eddie his cone. 

“Nothing.”

“Didn’t look like nothing to me, man.” 

Eddie eyes him. “Are we entering bro territory again, Harrington?” 

“Oh fuck you,” he laughs, and then the moment is over and Eddie could go back to his musings. He could. But he’s Eddie fucking Munson, and if there’s one thing he doesn’t have, it’s a filter. And chill. Okay, there are several things he doesn’t have, and all of them come out when he’s around Steve, apparently. 

“It’s just, you’re like the sun.” 

Steve stops in his tracks, looking at him. “I’m like the sun?” 

Eddie nods and comes to a stop a few steps ahead of Steve. “Pretty much.” 

“Uh. Care to elaborate?” 

“Well, first of all you’re wearing a yellow button-up, of all things, and that just screams sun at me, no take-backs,” he points out, and Steve looks down at himself, frowning a bit like he’s only just realised the colour of his shirt. Adorable. 

Eddie continues, before his brain catches up with whatever the fuck he’s doing, baring his thoughts like that on the first date. 

“Secondly, you’re kind. Like, you’re a genuinely nice guy. And I think the term sunny disposition was coined for you specifically. Actually, I have a friend in linguistics, I can ask her if there are any etymological… Anyway, uh.” Oh, there it is. His brain is back and he realises what he’s saying, notices the way Steve’s looking at him, his head cocked to the side, looking at him. Seeing him. Understanding what he’s saying. 

Eddie swallows and goes back to eating his ice cream, looking anywhere but at Steve. 

He almost misses it when Steve says, “You’re cute, Eddie Munson.” 

His head whips up when he hears that, staring at Steve and his stupid little smile, his shining eyes, the glazed look in them, like he’s seeing Eddie and the rest of the world for the first time. 

And Eddie, because he truly deserves the title of triple high school flunkee, says, “No, you.” 

Steve huffs and shakes his head, still with that smile on his lips as he approaches Eddie again, crossing that distance. Drawing Eddie in even though his feet are rooted to the floor again. He swallows as the blood rises to his cheeks, bringing with it a heat that only deepens his conviction that Steve is a fucking sun of his own. 

They’re so close, suddenly, that Eddie can smell the sweet lemon ice cream Steve got, and he holds his breath, petrified. He begins to understand why, throughout history, people have built religions around the sun. Why they have worshipped and created mythology around her, why people have been likened and pronounced representatives of the sun herself. 

He gets it when Steve leans in and brushes the sweetest kiss to his burning cheek. His hand lingers on Eddie’s jaw even as he pulls away. 

“Cute,” Steve says with a finality that a voice as raspy as his shouldn’t possess. But Eddie doesn’t dare argue, not when Steve is so close, not when he can see the blush on his cheek, not when he only needs to turn his head and their lips would touch. “And pretty. Thank you.” 

The fingers on his jaw are moving in the slightest caress once, twice, three times before Steve pulls back. 

And Eddie sways. Honest to god sways on his feet, and he tries to mask it by taking a step back and spinning around, but Steve’s light snicker tells him he’s been found out. 

It’s unfair, though, that Steve gets to have this charm. This confidence. The courage to just kiss his cheek when it takes Eddie everything to just act normal. Well, as normal as he gets. 

It’s unfair. And addictive. He hides his face in the flowers that smell so perfectly like spring and summer and freedom that it makes him positively giddy. Everything about today makes him giddy. 

Can it really be like this? Is this really for Eddie to soak up, is this for him to keep? This kind of happiness and joy never did seem to be reserved for him.

But then Steve asks if he can take his hand, and Eddie opens his heart to the moment and links their fingers, daring to look over and catch Steve’s smile before he ducks his head away. 

As far as first dates go, this is the best one Eddie’s had. They just walk a lot, which is perfect for his restlessness. This way he can run away from Steve and let the man laugh as he catches up, shaking his head with fondness. And Steve does. He follows him, he catches up, he gives chase, and suddenly they’re kids having a perfect summer day outside, their bellies full of ice cream. 

And it turns out, Steve Harrington is not just a pretty face, a kick-ass tattoo artist, an interesting mind and a sunny kind of smile. No, he’s also a person Eddie wants to genuinely spend time with. It’s almost too good to be true and it makes him want to hide. 

So he does. But not behind his hair, no. He presses his face into Steve’s collarbone, and instead of shoving him off or laughing awkwardly, Steve just wraps his arms around him and holds him. Tight. 

“Everything okay?” 

Eddie nods, holding Steve in return. “Yep, but if you’re gonna ask me any more questions, I’m gonna be real stupid here.” 

Steve hums. “Stupid like me saying I didn’t really want to wait until today and just see you again right away on Tuesday?” 

It makes his heart jump, because, yeah, something like that. Something exactly like that. 

“Uh-huh. It’s just…” He sighs and steps back to look at Steve. “I’m having a really wonderful day. And it feels sort of forbidden.” 

“Forbidden how?” 

“Like… God, this is gonna sound very, like, thirty steps ahead, probably. But you’re, like. Man. You’re kinda perfect, and I can’t really wrap my head around the fact that we’re on this date, and that you’re calling me cute and pretty. Because people don’t do that. Not to a trans guy, not to me. And I didn’t even know I wanted that, but, boy. Boy. I do. I really fucking do.” 

Steve is smiling by the end of it, and Eddie doesn’t quite understand. He should be running, should be looking at him with pity in his eyes, or that misplaced kind of understanding that’s really just nothing else but pity, just disguised with a dash of transphobia. 

“Why are you smiling?” he asks when he’s just about to explode. 

Steve shrugs, but that smile stays. “I like that you just… Say these things. That I can ask you what’s up and you’ll tell me. I don’t know, makes me feel like you trust me.” 

“I do.” 

That smile widens a fraction, and Steve takes his hand. “Well, let me return the favour, hm? I like being here with you. I’m having a really amazing time and I don’t want it to end. I didn’t want it to end on Tuesday either, I don’t know. It just… I don’t know, it feels right. And you are cute. And pretty. And funny, and just really great to spend time with. It feels like I get to be a version of myself with you that’s just, like, all of it, you know? It’s scary, of course it is, and makes me feel a bit stupid, too, but more than that it’s just really great. I’m sorry people are weird, but believe me when I say that, yes, you get to have cutesy dates, too. I’d take you on one, like, every week if you want.” 

“Every week, huh? What, do you have a crush on me, Harrington?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy?” 

And just like that, they’re laughing again. Relieved, happy, filling their little bubble with joy and sincerity and butterflies. 

Things are moving fast, but Eddie feels that if they went any slower, the world might actually end. 

They don’t kiss that day. 

In fact, it’s past midnight when Steve cradles Eddie’s cheeks outside the door to his apartment, looking at him like he hung the moon. Eddie’s not any better off, he feels. 

“Can I kiss you, Eddie?”

“I’ll bite you if you don’t.” 

Steve hums as he leans and brushes his lips against Eddie’s. It’s a good kiss. Oh, it’s a great kiss. It might just be the best kiss of his life when he feels Steve’s tongue against his lips, and he moans a little as he winds his arms around Steve’s neck, holding him there. Keeping him. 

They kiss lazily, perfectly, for so long that it leaves Eddie a bit dizzy. And when he breaks away to take a breath, Steve leans his forehead against his temple. 

“Goodnight, Eddie,” he whispers. “Thank you for today.” 

Words fail him, so he just nods before pulling Steve in again by the back of his neck, kissing him some more. Because how in the world could he not? 

“When can I see you again?” he asks, just to be a little pathetic. 

Steve moves the kisses from his lips to his nose, his cheek, his eyelids and up to his forehead, making Eddie glad there’s a locked door behind him. 

“Tomorrow sound good?” 

“Tomorrow sounds perfect,” Eddie breathes. “Best fucking day of the week.” 

Steve laughs and presses one last chaste kiss to his lips. 

“For the record,” Essie says, pulling away from Steve, a bit breathless, “when you say tomorrow, you mean today, right?” 

And Steve pauses. Steps away from Eddie. “I can’t believe I like a guy who thinks the day is over at midnight.” 

Eddie would laugh at that, but… “You like me, huh?” 

“Very much. Thought that was obvious what with the kissing and the handholding and the whole speech thing we had going on earlier.” 

Eddie is too giddy to retort and he’s only mildly petrified when he actually giggles, darting forward for another kiss. “Goof. Goodnight, Stevie. Now leave before I do something stupid like inviting you in.” 

“Oh yeah, we wouldn’t wanna do that. You’d end up seeing all my tattoos and spontaneously combust. I can’t bear that kind of responsibility.” 

“Your— Steve!” But the man is already retreating, walking backwards to watch Eddie as he laughs, giving a silly little wave that has no business being so cute. “Get your ass back here,” Eddie hisses as loud as he dares, aware of the time and the fact that his neighbours will be asleep already. And that’s not even mentioning Chrissy. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Eddie.” 

“Will you show me your tats then?” 

“What? Sorry, I suddenly can’t hear you anymore, you’re so far away.” Asshole. Beautiful fucking asshole who kisses so good that Eddie’s still leaning against the door. He hates him. So much. They’re gonna have a spring wedding. 

Tomorrow finds Eddie outside of Steve’s door, fighting both nerves and a big smile as he knocks. Seconds later, the door sweeps open with a flourish and Steve is on the other side, smirking at him, looking so damn put together that Eddie falters a bit. 

“So rude of you to turn up your damn charm, Harrington.” 

“Only for you, Munson,” Steve says, taking Eddie’s hand and pulling him inside. “Only for you.” 

Eddie steps into his personal space and kicks the door shut gently. “Oh yeah? Well, I’m charmed. What’cha gonna do about it, big boy?” 

Steve hums, bringing his hands up to Eddie’s neck. “Think I’m gonna kiss it better, see if that helps.” 

And then he does. He pulls Eddie in, closing what little space was left between them and takes his breath away with a long, gentle, intimate kiss. 

“God,” Eddie breathes against his lips, his own hands landing in Steve’s hair, which earns him another hum. 

“Yup.” 

God, he’s so lame. 

“So,” Eddie says with one last kiss to Steve’s lips. And then another. And another. “Show me your tats?” 

Steve laughs and leads the way further into the apartment. It’s nothing like Eddie expected. Sure, it’s tidy and clean, because Steve just seems like the kind of guy who folds his laundry immediately and takes his dishes to the sink instead of letting them pile up or soak. But there are posters on the wall, there are little figurines and fairy lights lining the shelves, pictures of Steve and a girl that looks vaguely familiar. So many pictures actually, of Steve and the girl and other people, laughing and blurry at times, testaments of good times. 

They make Eddie smile a bit. Fucking sunny boy Steve, alright. 

Steve and Eddie end up talking for a while first, sitting in the kitchen with a cup of coffee and some stupidly delicious cupcakes. 

“Robbie made those.” 

“Your roommate best friend? The one with the fear of needles or something?” 

“The one and only,” Steve laughs. “She has a little bakery down the street, actually. Used to stress bake half her life before she turned it into a business. The night before her finals in high school, she made three cakes and dour batches of, like, three different types of cookies. She aced her finals, of course.” 

“Of course,” Eddie grins, taking another bite of the cupcake. He’ll have to stay with Steve just to get his hands on more of these, damn. Chrissy is coming with him to get more tomorrow, he decides.

“I also told her you chose her favourite little angel and she wants to marry you now. Except, I reminded her that you’re a man and she, very respectfully, passes.” 

“Shame.” 

“Very. Guess now you’re stuck with me.” 

“Damn. The hardship,” Eddie sighs with all the drama lessons he ever had in his life, and it makes Steve chuckle as he takes his hand. They stare at each other for a moment or two, just soaking up the smell of coffee and their respective smiles. 

The moment ends when Steve raises his hand to his lips and presses a kiss to his knuckles before rising to his feet and tugging him along into his room. Eddie zones out for a bit just watching Steve move in his space, talking about something that Eddie doesn’t really comprehend because he’s busy staring as Steve takes of his shirt, and— 

Oh. 

They’re wings. 

Steve has wings. Four of them, and they’re like mandalas. Intricate little things, but when Eddie takes a closer look, trailing his hand along Steve’s warm skin, he can’t help but notice that the lines are a bit like smoke. They don’t seem to follow any pattern or direction, and up close, they don’t look like wings. Up close they look like disjointed, wonky lines. Like a freestyle tattoo, almost absentminded in its ink.

They’re beautiful, covering Steve’s whole back, mixing fine line patterns with stronger, thicker, almost aggressive lines. Eddie could stare for hours, tracing the abstract lines, trying to figure them out and giving up with the fondest fascination. 

And that’s how they find themselves in Steve’s bed, shirtless, Steve lying down on his front, his head placed comfortably on his folded arms. Eddie is straddling his legs, moving his hands up and down Steve’s back, which turns into a light massage and Steve purrs underneath his touch. 

There’s nothing sexual about this — and not just because they’re both sort of ace. It’s just tender. Trusting. Gentle. 

Steve’s shoulders, his chest the insides of his upper arms, they’re all covered in tattoos. All rather abstract versions of common motifs. There are monsters, too, and it’s like someone turned Lovecraftian storytelling into a tattoo machine and used Steve as a canvas. Eddie somehow has no doubt that Steve designed most of these together with Robin or that artist friend Will he mentioned yesterday.

He wants to ask, wants to understand, wants to know it all. But words don't belong in this moment, so Eddie keeps up the gentle motions of his hands. Soon, Steve is falling asleep under his hands and Eddie joins him after a while. They’re wrapped around each other, comfortable, without a care in the world. It’s rather perfect. 

And if you ask Eddie years down the line, he’ll say that this is the moment he knew he could very well fall in love with Steve Harrington. In fact, he’s already on his way there. 

---

okay whew, we are done? i think? maybe? there might be a buckingham part to this at some point, but if y'all have anything you wanna see in this verse, i'm open to being pestered very kindly and patently please i am quite literally on the verge of an anxiety attack rn)

thank you @ everyone who was even mildly enthusiastic about this little thing, you 12 people have my whole heart 🤍🌷🥹

tagging:  @inmoonywetrust @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @vampireinthesun @ajamlessbaby @momotonescreaming @zerokrox-blog @hotluncheddie @saganarojanaolt @eboyawstenn

[muirmarie]

thinking about the internal logic for the magic system for my original stuff again. thinking about the fact that i spent a year writing (good!) and did not touch my original stuff at all (not great lmao) and that now that i've got myself back on the right path (words!) and have tried to beat into my silly, stubborn head that the important thing is to get things done and out of my sweaty, scared hands instead of clutching them too tightly and far too long trying to focus on making them as good as they can be (sigh), i really, really gotta apply that to my original stuff this next year (SIGH) even when i really don't wanna (SIGHHHHHHHH) so. yeah. i should probably crack that sucker open again and at the very least reread it. AFTER i finish this fic that i was supposed to finish last weekend lmao (say it with me: sigh).

[seiwas]

hopping in and out again to wish everyone a tgif !!!! and a happy weekend !!!

[i-am-beckyu]

Writing for me atm be like this:

and this

and also this

Oh and can't forget this!

Yeah writing has been going great recently......

[bacchuschucklefuck]

Do you write fh (jy) fan fiction? If so is there a way I can read it? Thanks :>

I'll say I am writing fh fanfics! but its currently in my computer and nowhere else. maybe one day I'll get what I'm writing done and somewhere not my computer and I'll let folks know!

[broken-clover]

I have several long fics that I really want to do but it's so difficult committing to something I know will be very long and take a lot of time to do so I keep repeatedly psyching myself out before I can make any real progress