#hopelessly pining

[blueraimo]

[noka-exe]

hard truths + the master of evasion at work

[hinamie]

sidelong

[awaitinganorphanera]

My favorite relationship dynamic

I love them sm

[hairmetal666]

Steve doesn't date, not anymore. He goes to bars, clubs, picks people up and makes it clear it's just for the night; that it can't, won't, be for anything more.

He falls too fast and too hard; wants so badly to be loved that he loses himself to it. So, he doesn't date and he's fine. More than fine, actually. Not worrying about finding someone, about falling in love, lets him truly enjoy his life; maybe for the first time since childhood.

He goes with Robin to visit her parents in Hawkins, wakes up at the ass crack of dawn to go for a run. With the sun barely up, he doesn't expect to come face-to-face with Eddie Munson, smoking on a park bench.

They startle each other in the early Hawkins quiet, Eddie jumping hard enough that he drops his cigarette into the dirt at his feet.

"Christ, Harrington!" He snarls a little.

"Fuck, Eddie." Steve fights to catch his breath. "What are you doing out this early?"

He glances up, finds Eddie's eyes raking over this body in a way that makes him go hot all over.

"Haven't been home yet." Eddie smirks. And he can see that's true, Eddie is fully dressed, faint lines of mascara trail across his cheeks.

"Had a show?"

"Something like that." Eddie's cheeks pink, and he pulls a chunk of hair over his face.

Understanding dawns, and Steve points at him, delighted laugh bubbling in his throat.

"Don't--"

"You had an all night Hellfire meeting?" Steve cackles.

"Shut--Harrington, shut-up." But he's smiling too. "I'm in town this weekend. Dustin insisted!"

"You can tell him no, you know?" Steve giggles.

"Like you ever could."

Eddie stands then, and they hug, quick and tight. He practically crumbles into his friend's body, but then, that's nothing new. Steve breathes him in, immediately comforted by the familiarity of tobacco and leather and sweat and weed.

"I'm at Rob's. Come say hi?"

Eddie nods and they trek back together. They kept in touch, after Vecna, and their chatting is easy, like it's not been six months since the last time.

Eddie stays for breakfast tells them with a smile, "I was gonna call but--I'm moving to Chicago. That's why I'm crashing at Wayne's for now, stopped on the way--"

The rest of his words are smothered by the force of Steve and Robin's hug, Steve's heart beating an elated rhythm he doesn't bother investigating.

--

When Eddie makes it to town, they hang out as constantly as an adult with a day job and a touring musician can. It's nice, good, to see Eddie sitting on their couch. To watch him smoke a joint on the balcony. To hangout in his bed as he works on new music. It's just like the summer of '86, before they all went off to find their futures.

They're closer than they've ever been. Crashing at each other's apartments, sharing clothes, meeting for coffee and drinks and meals. There's not a day or night when they're free that they don't spend together.

Steve knows he's falling for Eddie; was halfway there already, and now--well, Eddie's beautiful and funny and smart and talented. He doesn't make a move, though. Because Eddie'll leave, like they all do, and losing Eddie will crush him more than anyone else ever has.

--

In June, Eddie's gone for a month, touring across the midwest. The day he's expected back, Steve's in the kitchen, rolling up fresh pasta, simmering sauce on the stove.

Robin stomps in, eyes flashing. "What are you doing?"

"Making dinner?" Steve raises an eyebrow.

"Steve."

"Robin."

They glare at each other across the kitchen. Steve breaks first. "What's wrong with making our friend dinner?"

"I don't want either of you to get hurt."

Steve freezes, swallows. "I'm not--I'm--I wouldn't."

"Just. Promise you'll be careful?"

He nods, squeezes his hands into fists. "Course, Rob."

And he means it, he really does, but when Eddie lets himself in, Steve runs to the doorway to pull his friend into a tight hug.

Eddie huffs out a burst of air on impact, laughing lightly. "Miss me, sweetheart?"

"So much," Steve whispers. He presses his nose into Eddie's neck, breathing him in, and he doesn't miss the way a kiss is pressed into his hair, the way Eddie's breathing him in too.

They fall into their natural rhythm immediately, Eddie following him to the kitchen, cooing and posturing that Steve made him dinner.

As Steve serves up the food, Eddie wraps his arms around his waist, leaning against his back. God help him, but Steve can't help relax into the hold, turning his head until their eyes meet.

Desire bleeds from Eddie's gaze, and Steve's breath hitches. He wants this so badly, knows he shouldn't, but he lets himself lean in until they share air.

But--he can't lose Eddie. He can't.

He turns away, lets the moment die. Eddie doesn't stay over that night, and Steve pretends like it doesn't make his stomach hurt.

--

They aren't as close after that.

Steve keeps telling himself it's because they're busy. The school year's starting up, Steve's got lesson plans to write; Eddie made an EP, it got interest, he's taking meetings in New York and LA. It's okay that they're spending less time together.

Until Eddie stops returning his calls.

He tries not to worry. But one call becomes two, becomes three, and he can't help it. He goes over, dread a knot in his stomach. Eddie opens the door, and he's shirtless with sweatpants slung low on his hips, hair loose and streaming around his shoulders. He looks happy.

"Steve? What are you--"

"You weren't answering my calls, and--can I come in?"

Eddie winces. "It's not a good time, Harrington."

He stands there for a second, stung, not sure what to say.

"Eddie, I--"

"Babe?" A voice calls from inside the apartment. "Who's at the door?"

Steve freezes. Can't think, can't move. He hopes it isn't obvious that his heart is shattering, but Eddie's blinking at him, panic written in the lines gathering on his forehead.

"Steve, Stevie, please," Eddie is saying, but he can't do this. He can't do this.

He walks away, all the way home, numb to everything around him.

The phone's ringing when he gets to the apartment. He ignores it. Goes to his room, locks himself in, crawls into bed.

The phone keeps ringing. He keeps ignoring it.

It isn't supposed to be like this. They weren't dating, weren't trying for a relationship; Eddie's supposed to be his. He curls into himself, sobs until his ribs hurt, until his eyes are as heavy as his heart, and he falls asleep.

--

Steve startles awake, disoriented, to someone knocking on his bedroom door. He has no idea what time it is, how long he slept, but he expects Robin to be waiting in the hall.

It's Eddie. Hair in a messy bun, face flushed, eyes too bright.

"I'm sorry," falls out of Steve's mouth before he can think of anything else.

"Steve, I--I don't--" Eddie shakes his head. "Do you want to be in a relationship with me?"

"Yes," Steve whispers. "But I can't lose you, Eddie."

Eddie reaches out, slender hand, cupping Steve's jaw. "I need you to really listen when I say this, sweetheart. You will never, ever lose me. Not a chance."

"You can't know that," Steve says. Tears break free, cascade down his cheeks. "I used to think who could ever leave me? You know, back before Nancy. But I realized that actually no one would stay. And I can't--with you I can't--"

"Sweetheart," Eddie chokes on a sob. "I'm yours. Have been for years. I will never, ever leave you, no matter what we are to each other. But I can't be in some of a relationship with you. You have me wrapped around your finger, and I--I need it all, Steve."

"I want you to have it, Eddie." He presses his hand to his heart. "This belongs to you, but I--I couldn't survive you leaving."

"I would stay, Steve. I will. I promise on everything I have, everything I am, that you would never, ever lose me."

Steve stumbles into Eddie's arms, totally gone, and their mouths meet in a clumsy kiss. It wrecks Steve, tears him apart, renders him down to his smallest parts only to build him back together. He knows now for certain that there is no one else in the world for him.

They break apart, but don't move out of each other's orbit. "I love you," Steve whispers.

"Stevie, sweetheart, I love you more than anything." His fingers wind their way into Steve's hair, gentle, holding him. "I promise you'll have me for forever--fuck, longer than forever. My soul will find yours wherever we end up. I swear it."

[yawnderu]

You make it hard to be a ghost — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Mutual pining, yearning, fluff, conflicted emotions.♡

"That's enough out of you." Ghost barked as he entered your quarters, slamming a crumpled piece of paper onto your desk. You write poetry for him, sneaking it into pieces of his gear and clothes where you know he'll find them. He reads them every single time, the strings of his heart being pulled whenever he reads them. He'd never let you know he keeps them, never let you know just how much your handwritten thoughts truly affect him, but you already know.

"What else am I supposed to do with my love for you, Ghost?" You asked teasingly, though the fear of keeping being rejected was always there, gnawing on your heart every single time he denied your affections.

"I don't need your love." He spat out, British accent making his rejection somewhat harder. How do I let you know you're the sun that casts away my shadows? I can't. His gaze flickers back and forth as you stay quiet, a mixture of guilt and anxiety playing on his expressive eyes though he tried to keep a stern mask in place. "I don't have time for this." You make me feel something.

"You say that, but I know you enjoy what I write even if you don't believe my words." You stand up from your seat, slowly approaching Ghost as your hand gently holds his wrist, examining his tattoo sleeve. His senses are overwhelmed as you touch him, by the closeness of your body, the warmth of your hands, your gentle touch. He wants this for himself, but he can't accept it, yet he doesn't push you away. "Whose dog tags are these?" You inquire, looking at his tattoo with a curious gaze.

"An old friend." He replies shortly, breath hitching slightly. Those dog tags belong to Simon Riley. The Simon Riley who died the same day Ghost was born, the same Simon Riley who gave his murdered family a funeral pyre and was left as just a Ghost. You simply hum, knowing better than to press for more details.

"Stray." His voice finally cuts the silence, his tone more gentle than what you usually hear from him, despite the turmoil in his head. "I've never loved anyone." Other than my mum and brother. It pains him to say those words, but you deserve to know.

"I know." He looked at you with a gaze full of sadness, and you responded with a gaze full of love. Ghost pulls you closer, allowing himself to be vulnerable in this way for once in his life, hand resting warmly against your cheek as he leans closer, breathing in your hair and the scent of your skin. His nightmares and past haunt him, his trauma keeps him up at night, but you keep his soul alive.

"I truly love you, Simon." Your arms gently wrap around his neck and he grits his teeth. Simon. Simon had been dead for years, yet you somehow always found a way to bring him back to life. To make his defenses come crumbling down as if he didn't spend years carefully building them. You can feel the tension leaving his body, muscles relaxing and shoulders dropping. You're aware this is a big deal for Ghost, he never lets anyone get this close. You hear his heart beating wildly, his breath on your neck as his arms wrap around your waist hesitantly, bringing you closer and closer each passing second.

"I love you too." He whispered, swallowing the knot in his throat. It's the first time he's actually been able to say it. "I love you too." He repeats, just in case you missed it the first time.

[megafart1]

Fiddauthor doodles

*leaves this politely on the floor and scurries away*

yeah. enjoy ^_^

[fifiphobic]

HIGH-KEY i would rather read bkdk fanfiction than whatever your ‘new york times best selling author’ has to offer bc it seems to me that they are giving that title to just anybody now.

bye lemme clock into work (ao3)🤞 where i am known BEST

[nenoname]

dont mind me, just crying over the nwhs script

....now im just thinking about pre weirdmageddon stan keeping the watch on around ford outta spite, spray painted fake gold

this part was in the deleted scenes vid but is still in this version of the script so it must be a late cut?

haha funny but also 😭😭😭 stan thinking he's not a good person but being so desperate to not be a bad one...

racoon wife is called fuzz fuzz...

the kids actually hearing him say bitch lmao

mario jumps comfirmed

agent wallet used to bribe the cabbie confirmed (20 vs 100 bucks tho)

weh them being called a family

😭😭😭😭

huh. this version still doesn't end with the punch either (the deleted scenes version of tots has a shot of stan with a blood noses and opens with him reacting to getting punched)

but also stan seeming restrained for a moment before letting himself be overjoyed at ford's return....

...

[gotstabbedbyapen]

Hecate: I'm not straight for your mother, Persephone.

Persephone: *stops cleaning her scythe* What?

Alternatively...

Iris: I'm not straight for your mother, Ares.

Ares: *stops cleaning his sword* WHAT?!!

[greenteaandtattoos]

It's really easy to ship rosegarden with the hurt/comfort trope because Ruby and Oscar are canonically always being hurt. All the time. Just constantly in the hurt phase. It's time for them to enter the comfort phase. Vacuo will be the start of it. V10 will be their volume. They will finally get the comfort they deserve, together. I believe.

[blueraimo]

Touma Mita | Blue Flag (Part 5)

[ofcrowsanddragons]

This stems partly from the fact that Lucanis is staring directly at Rook's chest during the end of the romance scene, but I'm just imagining hopelessly friendsexual Lucanis having a thing for chests. And certain friends. And feelings. And having feelings for certain friends while looking at their stupid deep v-neck outfits (variable but possible on Rook.)

This man is having a great time forging lifelong friendships outside of his blood relations for the first time in his life. He's buying groceries and cooking for everyone, because it's not work. He's killing a fuckton of Venatori during the workday. He's learning a different way of being a person than he's ever known.

He's training with Davrin, although they still poke at each other's sore spots. He's bringing coffee to Neve, because he wants to be close to her. There's something about Rook that makes him think he could tell them his deepest, darkest secrets, and somehow that would just make them closer rather than end with Lucanis being pushed away.

He's washing dishes when Spite asks him, curiously, why Lucanis is thinking about licking the skin just below Davrin's clavicle. Which he was trying not to think about, but Davrin is stretching his arms back over his head while talking to Bellara, and the movement frames his skin in a beautiful way that makes Lucanis feel like he wants to touch. Which he doesn't. Obviously.

It's only later, when he's alone, that he gives up on keeping Spite from ruffling through his thoughts about his companions. Neve, tilting her hat so that he can barely meet her eye as she casually pulls apart a bloody mystery in Minrathous. Rook's strong hands skimming over parchment, knowing exactly which ally to approach for any particular favour. Davrin, with a grin starting to pull at the side his mouth, drawing a sword as they come upon a monster that only he could have tracked for them.

"Estoy maldito," he says, running a hand down his face.

Since starting this job, Lucanis has picked up more hopeless attractions than he's had to deal with for a decade. Still, he's not about to make it anyone else's problem.

[faragonart]

"It sure is, isn't it..."

(A little continuation from this...)

Ridel had always wanted to see the Steppe... and Vatii always wanted to show him.

(ft. @pali-himbo 's Vatii)

[loremaster]

you don’t need me (not the way i need you)

[grimst4rs]

“D’you ever think about your future?” Sirius asks, taking a drag out of his cigarette.

Yes, James wants to answer. Yes, I do, and you’re always in it. A small apartment in London, and as many animals as you want. Or a home far, far away from the world we had grown so accustomed to, just the two of us. Or an apartment on the other side of the world, actually, where no one knows us, where no one can find us. And we can start a life just for us.

Or anything you want, really, as long as it’ll be you. Because in my mind, it’ll always be you.

“I do. You’re always in it,” He managed to muster, then grins; a signature to cover up whatever he’s feeling, although all he ever hides is what he’s feeling towards Sirius. For now; another time, maybe. “Should we move in together?”

“After we graduate?”

“Yeah. Reckon it’s gonna be easier to be around each other that way than if we live in bloody different houses.”

Sirius purses his lips around his cigarette, then knocks his elbow on James’ arm. “Of course,” He says, smiling, putting his fingers and chuckling around his cigarette. “Anything with you, Prongs.”