#the-thorniest-rose

[inklessletter]

But Steve... Oh, he's a Prism

🌈💎🌈💎🌈

Art for the amazing, dangerous, captivating fanfic of Prism by the impressively talented @thorniest-rose and @azrielgreen

Thank you so much for trusting the process with us, babes.

[Please, if you're curious about this fic, read under the cut, I've got an important, spicy message for you, love]

I want to tell you how sexy warning tags are. Like, they're an instant turn on, you know? All those words, a foreshadowing of what you're going to see, a cue for your own safety, and triggers and pleasures. A hint of the future, a crystal ball. Knowledge: that's so goddamn sexy.

This fic is impressive in many, many ways, and the authors know as well as I do how hot warning tags are, and that's why they made a full chapter of them.

Please, read them before you dive into this story. They're there for you to read, for you to enjoy. Treat yourself and read them. You'll do such a good job if you do, really. So good, because if you read them then you're taking care of yourself and you're being responsible and that is... god. That's even hotter.

[2jihiir0]

the babysitter ~ 🕶️

Inspired by @thorniest-rose ‘s post about this being a very Stephanie coded outfit !!! 💗 it definitely is !!! I had to draw her 🥰

[cardboardqueen]

@thorniest-rose​

I found the fic it it’s “took you for a working boy” by pukner on ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40943520/chapters/102606753

middle name discussion happens in chapters 4/5, I’m on my way to reread the fic now, this whole fic is full of gender achy softness its great

"James is  your middle name, Steve."

"Not anymore," Steve says, certain as anything. Certain like he was when he told her, I'm not a boy anymore. He's watching her, careful, careful.

"Robin James," says Robin, slowly.

The penny drops.

"Holy shit," she says, veering sharply into giddiness, "Holy shit, Steven  Marie."

Robin calls Steve pretty and cute and Steve calls Robin hot and handsome 💜💜💜

[mochinomnoms]

Hi hi friend,

If it is not too much trouble I would like to make a request for your event? I think I would like Floyd with prompt 14- “I'd rather have the thorniest, pesticide ridden roses grow in my mouth before I'd ever admit having any sort of affection for them!”

They/them for Yuu is fine with me, I was thinking romantic? Where maybe it's obvious to everyone but Yuu how requited their feelings are.

I've really liked reading your writing and hope you continue to have fun doing it (♡°▽°♡)

floyd leech x gn!reader [tags] – fluff, mutual pining [wc} – 3,659 prompt 14: “I'd rather have the thorniest, pesticide ridden roses grow in my mouth before I'd ever admit having any sort of affection for them!” note - hahahahahhahahahahaha i did not mean to write so much but i went a little buckwild and i think floyd deserves to be allowed to be soft sometimes a floral inconvenience

Lavender roses - Introduced in 1900, lavender roses represent love at first sight. They’re often given to someone to convey that the giver was immediately smitten and fell in love. 

You’d decided to attend a karaoke event the Mostro Lounge was hosting to introduce the new spring menu. It was meant to be a nice, relaxing hangout with your friends from Heartslaybul as you listened to your friends attempt to show off their mediocre singing skills. 

Ace was in an especially good mood, happy to tease you as you waved happily at Floyd, who’d returned your affections. 

“Oi, oi, oiiiiiii, Prefect? When you gonna say something? Kinda tired of dealing with you puking petals every—OW!”

You snorted as Deuce smacked Ace upside the head, muttering about him being an asshole. 

“Leave them alone Ace, unless you want to be collared for harassing a member of the student body?” Riddle reprimanded, giving Ace a harsh glare as he turned to you instead. 

“You can ignore him, Prefect, you don’t have to say anything to that good-for-nothing merman! I’m sure you could do much better anyways.”

You chuckled, enjoying the soft banter between the group. It was particularly nice seeing Riddle interact more casually with his peers, even if you weren’t able to convince him to sing with you. 

“Are you sure you do want to go up with me?” You pouted leaning in close to the red-headed housewarden. “I’ll even let you pick the song—”

“Out of the question.”

You sighed, resting against the plush cushions of the booth while Ace and Deuce bicker about which song would be better for a duet. This was nice. 

It was nice, up until Floyd decided to take part in the festivities. Somehow he’d snuck behind you and Riddle, snatching up your friend with a gleeful cackle as he screeched. 

“FLOYD! PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT—”

“Nah, it’s fine Goldfishie, I need ya for just a sec!”

Floyd placed Riddle in a seat, front and center at the stage, as he climbed up. The cool blue spotlight suited Floyd’s features as he grinned. 

Picking up the mic from its stand, Floyd announced, “Alright! This song is for my favorite little fishie in the whole entire school, so you all better enjoy it!”

You expected him to start singing a silly pop song, one with high energy and beats. Or one that became a meme on Magicam last week, something about flamingos and turning pink. 

Instead, the upbeat, suave tunes of a familiar song started playing. A familiar love song. 

“Is…is this ABBA?”

“Who?” Cater asked, recording the scene with a stifling giggle as Riddle turned redder and redder in embarrassment (and most likely rage) as Floyd continued to serenade him. 

“This is ‘Lay Your Love’ by BABA, a classic from the 80s—”

“No it’s called ABBA back home—wait, WHY IS FLOYD SINGING A LOVE SONG TO RIDDLE!?”

Your screech startled the surrounding tables, drawing attention that you were too jealous to focus on. Floyd made eye contact with you, hearing your yelling. Continuing to sing—quite nicely you’d hate to admit—the eel mer winked and smirked, drawing an ire that you didn’t know you had. 

“What the hell? Floyd!” With the vindication of a scorned lover, you stomped to the stage and swiped the microphone from Floyd’s hands. 

“Floyd, what are you doing?” you spoke into the mic, glaring daggers at the tall beanpole of an eel turned man, who looked unbothered at your angry presence.

Floyd took the mic back and answered, “I’m trying to win my mate back—DON’T GO WASTING—”

“What mate?” You yanked the mic back while Floyd followed suit, though this time you kept both hands on. It became a tugging match as you both tried speaking into the mic before the other took it back. 

“Goldfishie.” You could hear Riddle scream at that. 

“Riddle’s not your mate! I’m your mate—” You snapped your mouth shut, the mic feedback and your last words echoing through the lounge, mocking you. 

Floyd had a large, smug grin on his face, his sharp teeth gleaming under the bright lights of the stage. You were now very aware of the packed lounge, and of the students spectating. 

The mic was slowly pulled back to Floyd, who gleefully asked “Oh~ Say that again?”

“Nuh-uh.” 

You shook your head furiously, trying to pull back in order to run off and curl into a hole from embarrassment. Floyd’s grip on the mic and your hands tightened, preventing your escape. 

“That’s fiiine,” Floyd pulled out a small device from his pocket, lightly tapping it on the mic. “I have it riiiight ‘ere.” 

Suddenly, a recording of your voice looped into the mic: 

“I’m your mate—I’m your mate—I’m your mate—”

He recorded it. 

“Oh my god…” You looked at Floyd in horror, who was still grinning ear to ear, like a cat that got the mouse. 

“HehehehehehahahAHAHA!” Floyd’s giggle turned into a cackle as he launched at you, mic and recorder abandoned on the floor. Between the ear-splitting squeal of the mic hitting the ground and a 6’2” man tackling you, there was little time for you to defend yourself as your lips clashed, teeth clattering against one another from the brute force.

His long arms wrapped themselves tightly around your waist, dipping you down dramatically as he broke your kiss to instead leave wet kisses on your cheeks, nose, forehead, and every other piece of skin not covered by clothes. 

Ace and Cater’s cackles could be heard amongst the now growing laughter, whistles, and jeers of the crowd. You think you could even make out someone yelling at your two to get a room. 

“—off the stage! Get off the stage, both of you!” 

Ah, it was Azul. Who was stomping over the shoo you both off the stage, giving Floyd a particularly harsh whack on the head with his staff. 

“Ow, fuck that hurt!” Floyd whined, scooping you up with his left hand and cradling you to his chest. “Cool it Azul, don’t harsh my vibe—”

“I don’t care! Go make out in your room! This is a lounge not a brothel!”

“Fiiiiiine,” Floyd adjusted his grip to instead throw you over his shoulder, amused by how limp you’d gone in his grasp. “Come on Shrimpy! I got something fun in mind~”

His sentence and teasing tone made you flush, images of you and him in bed flashing through your mind. 

“W-wait, Floyd, what are we gonna do?”

“You’ll see, ahahahehe!” Floyd’s giggled echoed through the hallway as he quickened his pace. It was only a few minutes before you realized that you two had made it to the dormitory halls. 

Floyd kicked open his door, the hinges squeaking from the force. He marched over to his bed, grabbing at your waist to no doubt throw you on it before pausing. 

“Oh yeah.” Like a sudden realization hitting him, Floyd grabbed the corner of his bedsheets and shook them, clothing, books, and crumbs no doubtedly flying off. 

Once satisfied, Floyd hummed and once again grabbed your waist, this time committing to throwing you on the bed, which bounced under you. 

“AaaAaaAAAah—FLOYD!” You yelped, face turning redder as Floyd caged you to the bed. He looked at you with a hungry expression, licking his lips at the sight of you. 

“Wait-wait Floyd, gimme a sec—” you stammered, crawling backwards until your back hit the headboard. “—this is all very very sudden, I—wait!”

Floyd crawled after you, trapping you with his long arms, leaning down until his lips were lingering over yours. You shut your eyes in anticipation, waiting for his hands to grab at your clothes and tear them off. 

A soft, tender meeting of the lips. Floyd pressed his mouth against yours, swiping his tongue into your mouth, to which you returned with flustered confusion. The kiss was with such gentleness that you had to open your eyes to confirm that it was indeed Floyd kissing you. 

Olive and yellow eyes were closed, a blissful smile on his lips as he broke your kiss, instead pressing almost chaste pecks to your cheeks, down, your neck, and over your shirt where your heart was beating away. 

Floyd pressed his right ear to your chest, listening to the increasingly rapid pounding against your rib cage. His arms moved from trapping you against the bed to trapping you against his body, wrapping around your back and tightening while his lanky legs tangled between yours. 

You weren’t sure what to do with your own hands, once he had settled laying on you. Hesitantly, you reached to lace them through his hair, pushing the strands back to get a better view of his peaceful face. Admittedly, seeing Floyd in such a state, blissful and sweet, was beautiful. 

His smile grew slightly as you combed through his hair, nuzzling his nose into your chest. Into your heart really. 

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” Floyd opened his yellow eye, gleaming at you in amusement. “I just wanted to cuddle, did ya have somethin’ else in mind? Haha!”

He moved to prop up his chin, smirking at you as he teased, “Didn’t think ya had sucha dirty mind, if you wanna ‘do it’, all you had to do was ask—”

You shoved his face back into your chest looking away in embarrassment, feeling his giggles vibrate through you. 

“Shut up, ugh!” You pouted, grumbling, “You set me up! Ugh! How’d you even know that would work?”

“I heard you.”

“Huh?”

“Talkin’ to Lil Goldfishie,” Floyd moved so that instead of laying on top of you, he was curled into your side with his head nestled at the crook of your neck. “When you got the flower sickness.” 

You looked at him with shock. That conversation with Riddle happened nearly three months ago in between classes. 

Specifically, it happened a few weeks after winter break, when you were catching up Riddle to your “adventure” in Scarabia, after which small lavender roses started blooming along your freckles, their thorns scratching your skin.

“And then, he launched us waaaaaay into the desert!” You animatedly waved your arms around as you recounted your fiasco over winter break. “We were trapped, but then Kalim used his unique magic to fill a dry riverbed with water and then!”

Riddle raised a brow at you as you began gigging with a soft blush. “Jade and Floyd had to turn into their merforms, so me and Kalim had to hold on to his back, but when I wrapped my arms around his chest, and he held my hand to steady me! ”

Your friend rolled his eyes as you started to silently squealed in your seat, sighing.

“Are you going to finish? I have better things to do than listen to you babble about Floyd of all people. Honestly,” Riddle huffed, “I don’t understand what you see in that riffraff!”

“He’s not a riffraff!” You quipped, frowning as you crossed your arms. “He’s actually really sweet if you give him the time of day, Floyd just likes being able to have fun with others you know!”

“Even then, his mood swings don’t terrify you? He gets rather violent sometimes.” Riddle took a sip of his tea as you shook your head. 

“No, I mean if you just go with the flow it’s fine, plus that just makes him more exciting to be around! Plus we’ve been getting closer ever since Azul’s overblot…”

You smiled softly as you looked down at your lap, fondness growing in your heart like blooms on a warm spring day. 

“He can actually be quite sweet, once you get to know him…you just have to give him a chance.”

The two of you remained quiet, the only coming from the distant chatter of other students in the more populated areas of the guest lounge.

“I’m safe to assume then that he is the reason you’ve started sprouting the roses?”

Your soft pink blush deepened as you nodded, picking at the small flower that began blooming on your cheek. 

“Yeah…”

“When will you confess, then?” You looked at Riddle in shock, who seemed confused at your distress. “What? It’s obvious that you have strong feelings for him, and even I notice how especially clingy he is around you.”

You shook your head, stuttering, “Well, yeah but that’s—”

“I’ve even heard him refer to you by name, he only does that with Jade and Azul you know?”

“You don’t understand Riddle.” You tried to interject, growing more flustered by the second. “I don’t think I could—”

Riddle continued, “As much as I disapprove, it does seem that you two genuinely bring out the best in each other, he does seem softer when you’re around—”

“Oh my—Riddle, stop—”

“—And you’ve gotten more outspoken, I remember how shy you were—”

“I’m begging you—”

“—Besides, according to the Queen of Heart’s rule number 478, any romantic feelings must be confessed approximately 12 days upon their discovery or the individual in question obligated to deny—”

“I said stop, Riddle!” You yelled at the top of your lungs before choking on rather large bouquet of lavender roses. Leaves and petals fluttered all around you as you continued to let out rough coughs, phlegm and saliva making a mess. 

Your yell startled the red-head so much that he simply started at you with a red face and thinned lips, too shocked to properly yell back at you for raising your voice indoors. 

Instead, he carefully placed his tea cup on the table between you two, folded his hands in his lap, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. You on the other hand, peaked around the dividers separating your nook from the rest of the lounge. 

Ace and Deuce looked over in concern as you continued to cough out more roses, walking over before you shook your head and gave them a thumbs up before shooing them away and turning back to Riddle. 

“...sorry Riddle.” You whispered, looking at him nervously. “I didn’t mean to yell, don’t be mad?”

“It’s…fine.” He replied with a strained voice, taking a final inhale before opening his eyes again and making eye contact. “You shouldn’t have yelled, and I shouldn’t have pushed.”

Riddle sighed, relaxing into the soft lounge chair. Though he would deny when asked, the chair that he helped you pick for the guest room was is favorite spot to sit in, as it surprising comfortable. 

“May I ask why you refused? It’s quite obvious to anyone that you care for him immensely, for some forsaken reason, and I would even say it’s quite mutual.”

You avoided eye contact as he resumes sipping from his tea, a lemon tea with 2 sugar cubes for his post meal tea. 

“Yeah…that’s what the other first-years say too. Even Jade’s been dropping hints on mer courtship gifts.”

“Then? What’s stopping you? 

A pregnant pause was in the air as you open and closed your mouth, attempting to figure out what it was that scared you. 

“What if…he gets bored?” 

Riddle furrowed his eyebrows as he leaned in, barely able to hear you. 

“What if he what?” He sighed, a bit irritated. “Speak up Prefect, I know you can, you just did earlier.”

You groaned out, “What if he gets bored with me? I’m fun and interesting now, yeah!”

Your friend watched, and you began pacing around the room, holding his head in his hand as he watched and listened to you vent. 

“I’m just a silly little magicless human that got transported from another world! Big whoop! What happens when that novelty wears off? You've heard him, he only likes to do things that are fun and interesting to him, but I won’t always be fun and interesting, eventually he’ll get used to me and get bored.”

You turned to look at Riddle with a teary-eyed, but firm look. “He’s get bored and leave me. I can’t handle that! So I just won’t be with him. In fact, I'd rather have the thorniest, pesticide ridden roses grow in my mouth before I'd ever admit having any sort of affection for him!”

Your voice began to crack as you stated your final sentence, snapping your mouth shut before you got begun crying. Riddle stood up and walked over to grasp your shoulders, looking at you with an understanding smile. 

“The sort of person that would abandon a lover simply because they’re bored never deserved one in the first place.” 

Riddle hummed in agreement as you sqeaked out a ‘really?’, giving you a soft pat on your shoulder. 

“Of course, I can’t say I don’t understand your hesitance, Floyd is…Floyd, after all. However, he is not my friend, you are. If you choose to forfeit your right to confess, then so be it.”

You smiled as he dragged you back to your seats, giggling as he continued, “I personally would say it’s no lost on your part, he’s not exactly the most prime candidate for your life partner should you be stuck here in Twisted Wonderland, may I suggest one of the many more suitable providers?”

“Pfft-like who? You?” you cackled as Riddle looked at you in mild horror. 

“Oh dear, of course not! I admire you as a friend, but I have much stricter standards for a partner.” He snapped his fingers in revelation. “Perhaps Ace or Deuce, you are rather close to them—”

“Ewwwww, pass. They’re like annoying brothers!” 

Riddle snorted before covering it up with a cough. “True. Trey?”

“If you’re just going to suggest your dorm members, maybe we should switch the conversation to something else.”

“Well I think my dorm produces only the best and most gentlemanly mages of all of NRC, so excuse me if I’m simply trying to give you the best options!” 

You and Riddle shared some laughter, a flash of teal catching the corner of your eye. But you saw nothing, so instead you focused back on Riddle as he began recounting his own winter break activities.

You remained quiet as you processed your thoughts, finding the lilac ceiling to be particularly interesting. 

Floyd also stayed quiet, still curled into your side as he breathed in your scent. You’re sure that with all of the flowers you’d started coughing up in the last few minutes, you smelled strongly of the lavender roses. 

“You know…I was gettin’ real mad when you wouldn’t confess to me.” Floyd whined, propping his head up with his hand to look at you and your pink face. 

“I thought it would be nice to get a cute confession out of my little shrimp,” He pinched your nose and forced you to look at him. “It be real fun! Like those cringy romcoms landfolk like so much!”

You replied, nasally due to your pinched nose, “Wait, is that why Jade was telling me about mer courting methods?”

“Haha! Yeah, I was hopin’ that you’d bring me a pretty seashell or somethin’ cute so Icould make fun of ya for later.”

You let out an indigent huff, smacking Floyd’s hand away as he laughed. 

“Really? So what made you change your mind?”

“Hearing ya talk to Goldfishie. It pissed me off that you’d think I’d toss you out like humans at sea with their trash.”

Floyd’s tone changed, looking  visibly annoyed as he continued. 

“Mers mate for life, and I wouldn’t choose someone I’d get bored with.” He sat up as his mood continued to sour. “It pissed me off, and it hurt, that my Little Shrimpy would think about me like that.”

“Oh, Floyd,” you sat up with him, guilt seeping in your bones as you looked at his angry face. Though, with the small tears forming in his eyes, Floyd looked more frustrated than anything. 

“I’m sorry, I-I didn’t think—it didn’t occur to me that you felt the same—”

“Well I do, and it’s not fair to me that you wouldn’t even give me a chance.” The way Floyd said that so matter of factly made you snap your mouth shut again, looking down at your lap instead. 

“I’m…sorry, Floyd. I wish I could make it up to you—”

Floyd interrupted, moody demeanor brightening suddenly. “No worries, I got just the solution!”

Crawling over back to you so that your back met the headboard again, Floyd grinned maliciously at your curled form. 

“Say it.”

“Huh?”

“Say it. Those three little words.” Floyd held up three fingers to emphasize his point. “The ones that will make all those little flower go right away, the ones you need to say to me.”

You stiffened, leaning away from Floyd as he leaned in. “I don’t know if I can—”

“Say it, Y/N.” The use of your name startled your attention back to his face. He looked unusually serious, peering his heterochromic eyes into your own. If you didn’t know any better, you could’ve mistaken him for his twin. 

You whispered, prolonging the inevitable, “What happened to Shrimpy?”

“Shrimpy was Shrimpy, but now your Y/N. And Y/N is Y/N…”

The two of you shared a smile as the distance between you two continued to close. You couldn’t remember what was so pressing earlier, why you were so anxious when the yellow eye of the man in front of you produced nothing but adoration from your heart. 

“Please…” From the uncharacteristic soft murmur to the eyes darting down to your lips and back to your eyes, Floyd drew you back in with a hypnotic ease that only the most alluring of mythical creatures could even hope to imitate. 

The two of you leaned in as you placed a hand on his chest, his own left hand coming to cradle your own. 

You craned your head back to hover your lips under his, uttering the words you swore to never let leave your mouth. 

“I-I…love you, Floyd Leech.”

A single lavender rose grew between your palms, as two longing hearts met as one.

[azrielgreen]

Hi everyone, so way back in July @thorniest-rose and I posted Chapter Sixteen of Prism and then said in the notes that we were taking a much needed break and would be back in October. Real life being so unpredictable, we weren't able to do that, but the last month or so, Brooke and I have been talking and lot and being really honest and our time allocation for what is essentially hobby writing going forward.

I've loved working with Brooke every single second from the first time in the doc up until the CH16 climax in the church. She is one of the best and most wonderful people I could ever hope to meet, and we're always going to be in each other's lives. I have learnt so so much from her, and it's from her brilliant mind that Prism was born at all!! She inspired me to write darker iterations of characters, she made me feel accepted for liking characters who others had made me feel terrible about, and I say with my whole chest, knowing her in real life is a complete and utter privilege. She is the sweetest, most lovely person, and I love her dearly.

Going forward, Brooke will not have the time to continue actively writing Prism with me. When we started Prism, it was intended to be a one shot, then around 60k, then 150k max, and it snowballed beyond either of our comprehension. Prism wouldn't be what it is today without that open welcome of all ideas and limitless enthusiasm. If we had censored ourselves, it wouldn't be the same. But life has changed since we started writing it for both of us, and therefore, starting with the next chapter, I'll be continuing our fully planned vision and hopefully making Brooke proud.

Ch17 will debut end of Nov.

Thank you all so so much for your patience, support and enthusiasm.

~ A z r i e l

✨️🖤🌛🌕🌜🖤✨️

[nburkhardt]

We’re just gonna see where this goes but it’s inspired by this! Hope you don’t mind @thorniest-rose

~

When it first came to be, it was strictly dnd. Honest. It was a safe place for anybody who wanted to play in the game, to find friends.

But somewhere along the way when it was just the core four; Gareth, Jeff, Frankie and of course, Eddie.

They used their time in Hellfire to become best friends and eventually learn something else they have in common.

A crush on Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.

The four of them hated admitting it out loud but it came to a halt when the jock was partnered up with Jeff for a project and Jeff couldn’t stop talking about how nice the guy actually is. It snowballed from there, Gareth found out the guy drove middle schoolers around when he accidentally ran into him at the arcade and one of the middle schoolers wouldn’t leave him alone. Then Frankie accidentally bumped into him during lunch and Steve gave up his food when Frankie’s was all over the floor.

What really sold all of them on the crush was when Eddie decided all of them deserved a treat for defeating the latest campaign. Eddie froze the second he stepped into Scoops Ahoy when Steve turned from his coworker and greeted them.

It was after that they all really admitted to the crush and would spend a few minutes each hellfire session to talk about it.

They thought once the new school year started, they’ll finally move past it.

It was going really good, until the new members came in and all four of them got a front row seat yet again of the one they all like.

Steve dropping off Dustin Henderson and Robin Buckley at school, or Steve hanging around Hellfire to drag Henderson home. They see him around town too, usually with Robin but sometimes he’s out with Dustin and Sinclair’s sister getting ice cream of all things.

They’re all cowards though.

Never actually finding any sort of courage to actually talk to the guy. At least not directly and never long enough, sometimes they’ll say hi and how are yous. Little stuff, ya know?

Luckily no one caught onto it, especially since they actually see Steve more and more now. Instead of talking about the crush during hellfire sessions, they use band practice now. Just to save themselves a from tiny bit of embarrassment.

Eddie’ll admit later on that he got a little, just a tiny amount really, high. A bit, truly. That’s what makes his lips a little loose, makes his brain mushy, makes him giddy and have the giggles.

He’ll blame Henderson or maybe thank him? Eddie isn’t sure yet but for now not just himself but his best friends are all frozen right now.

“You what?!” Henderson screeches and makes them move again, “Hellfire is what now?”

Eddie can process that this is starting to go sideways but the high is pleasant and blurring his lines, so he looks up at Dustin, “a Steve Harrington fan club? A bit. Stevie is pretty boy! How can we not? He’s nice and sunshine in human form, he’s just so so good! And and and gorgeous!”

He sighs and closes his eyes, “so kissable tooooooooo”

Everyone else in the have very different reactions. Jeff, Gareth, Frankie all shrug and nod. Mike and Lucas look a little disappointed and annoyed, Dustin’s the only one that doesn’t seem to either agree or disagree. He looks both happy and grossed out. Eddie’s head is floating away, he can’t really process any of this information. And he’s not gonna ask questions in this state or answer more questions.

“Sooo, I gotta admit, was not expecting this”

Eddie’s stomach does a flip as his eyes fly open and when they focus, there, standing in the doorway with his arms crossed and a smile or maybe a smirk- maybe neither? Eddie’s can’t tell. It’s very, very nice. He does know that at least.

Steve is very, very pretty. Especially as he moves into the room, “Seeeee, Henderson? Ain’t he just gorgeous?”

Dustin looks between them, shaking his head before turning to the others, the ones not currently high. “Seriously?”

Frankie shrugs again, “I mean, Ed isn’t wrong. Thought I’d be over it, but here I am anyway.”

Jeff nodded and Gareth rolled his eyes, “we tried keeping between us only”

The new members frowned, while Dustin and Steve stared at each other. Steve fighting back a laugh, while Dustin already cracked a smile before looking back at Eddie, who’s head is finally floating back down and he’s started to sit back up.

“Oh. Oh man. I did-” Eddie looked between everyone, face turning bright red as he closes his eyes and blinking before meeting Steve’s eyes, “fuccccck, dude- I,”

There’s a glint in Steve’s gaze, his laugh dying but a smile staying in it’s place, “Picked a great day to hang around, maybe we can do all of that again some day?”

“What?”

Eddie sees the younger boys snap their heads to look at Steve, Dustin’s the only one to smile and bounce in his place. The older boys are glaring at him, Eddie can tell even without looking, green isn’t really their color.

Steve’s face hasn’t moved though, still looking at him and definitely smirking.

“Let’s try the complaints and pretty names again, Eddie baby” Steve says, and Eddie cannot believe his ears.

Eddie can tell he looks dumb but he nods and nods and nods as his smile grows, “I can come up with so many. So many, Sunshine, Darling, just you wait!”

(His best friends are both very jealous and very happy for him. And they’ll eventually with time, joke about this and play try getting Steve to themselves. Eddie will always win at the end. Someday it’ll come out that Steve was just waiting for the day for the guts to ask Eddie out. Robin let’s Eddie and the guys in on that secret.)

~ ~

Like I said I don’t know where this was going it kinda wrote itself. I… don’t know how it got this long. Also Lucas and Mike look annoyed because that’s their babysitter. It gross. Dustin’s happy because it’s his big brother. 😌

Permanent Taglist:

@spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @bookworm0690 @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @i-less-than-three-you @grimmfitzz @strangersteddierthings

[stervrucht]

I'm so excited for the return of Prism by @thorniest-rose and @azrielgreen that I drew my interpretation of Eddie's tattoo (I low-key want this now)💕✨

[ghosttotheparty]

crybaby

this is the most unhinged thing i’ve written and it’s @thorniest-rose’s fault bc of this post (no this is not going on ao3 bc some of my irls know ab my ao3)

featuring: virgin!eddie; also bottom!eddie; eddie w an oral fixation; lots of crying bc eddie is pathetic (affectionate); unhinged horniness and then extremely soft tenderness

cw: brief mention of piss bc eddie is depraved; mention of drugs; f slur used once; obviously very nsfw minors go away you are not welcome here

~~~

eddie isn’t good at much, but the things he’s good at, he’s really good at. these things include things other people know about him. writing stories, drawing creatures, making up plot twists and snags and tangles during campaigns, playing complex riffs on his guitar, finding his place easily on stage in front of people. (not many people, but still. people.)

but he’s also good at things that nobody knows about, things that nobody should or will ever know about. specifically, he’s good at getting himself off.

he’s experienced, simply put. he knows his body. he knows what feels good, and what doesn’t, and he knows what he likes. he’s gotten practice. he’s also gotten… creative.

he’s been home alone often enough that he’s gotten to try things. things he’s read about in magazines, seen pictures of, things that he’s just randomly thought of and gotten curious about.

he likes being breathless, so he curiously wraps his fingers around his own neck and squeezes until he’s a little lightheaded and gasping. (he uses a belt to do it one day, and he’s reminded of the bite of the leather on his neck every time he wears the belt after that. so he leaves it in his closet for the times he’s feeling particularly depraved, because he can’t wear it out anymore.) he comes immediately when his hair gets caught on his rings and he accidentally pulls too hard, so that becomes a thing afterwards.

he shoves his face into his pillow to muffle his moans, and when he bites down on it he realises he likes having it in his mouth. (he’s always liked having things in his mouth, pencils and his hair and gum and his necklaces, so he supposes this makes sense.) so he starts biting his pillows and then the ends of his blankets and then his underwear, and then he sucks on his fingers and bites his arms when he tosses them over his face.

some nights it’s harder to come than others, and he tries everything. sticking a pillow between his legs and riding it, using too much lube to get four fingers inside himself as he groans into his mattress, pushing his knuckles against his taint and pressing a hand against his belly, fucking himself with the handle of his hairbrush until he saves enough money to get an actual toy.

it’s also fun sometimes when he’s high, his head full of clouds, every sensation somehow simultaneously heightened and muffled. (on one particularly desperate night, he gets too high and accidentally pisses himself as he’s coming, and if that awakens something inside him as he comes back down… well, that’s his business.)

he’s aware of how it would look if someone were to take a peek into his bedside table drawer and found the bottle of lube (and the empty one he just hasn’t gotten around to throwing away) next to the pills and weed. but nobody looks at his stuff.

sometimes he does it without even the intention of really getting off. it just feels nice. gives his brain something to focus on while he does other things, fondling his dick over his pants while he reads or does homework, putting a toy inside himself while he draws or works on a campaign.

there are nights that he sets aside just to get off. just to sit in bed with lube and a box of toys (some of which are just innocuous things, like the belt and the hairbrush, that are only used for this), to spend hours taking himself apart. (yes, hours. the only time he’s ever patient is when he stops himself just before tipping over the edge.) he always gets a little delirious after long nights, giggling breathlessly to himself as his come and sweat dries tacky on his skin, as he untangles his fingers and rings from his own hair.

he doesn’t have any experience with other people, to his own disappointment. he’s curious about if it would feel better for another man to pull his hair, if they would pull it harder, sharper, if their hands would feel better around his throat, if their dicks would feel better in his ass than Eddie’s fingers.

he manages by himself, though. (manages is a light term. he’s killing it, really.) a few times a week, when he gets to get away from the rest of the world for a while. it’s not gross, he doesn’t think. he’s a healthy amount of horny, in his own opinion.

until steve harrington.

steve turns his world upside down (pun intended), from the moment eddie pins him against the wall out of fear and steve makes those little gasping noises, and then it gets worse when he sees steve bite a fucking demon bat and rip it apart before spitting its blood onto the ground like it was nothing, all covered in sweat and blood and lake water. eddie has to focus on where exactly he is and the fact that the world might be ending to distract his dick.

(nancy notices him adjust his pants, and his face burns, but she just barks out a laugh that she disguises as a cough, thankfully.)

he’s distracted until everything is over, luckily, as it would be difficult to sneak off long enough to rub one out. (to king steve, of all people. jesus.)

when he’s released from the hospital, he goes home (home now meaning the apartment the government gave wayne in return for the trailer.), and he’s hard before the shower water is even warm. and steve is in his head. covered in sweat and blood, panting and grinning and hovering over eddie. eddie ends up pressing his face to the wall, his breathes and soft whines echoing off the tile, and he’s vaguely aware that he’s moaning steve’s name, but it doesn’t really matter. no one’s here to hear it.

and steve keeps doing this thing. which really isn't a thing at all. he's just... existing. but it's summertime, and he keeps wearing these shirts with cut-off sleeves, and these shorts that cling to his ass like saran wrap, and he keeps pushing his hair back in this way that's so casual it's clear he isn't aware that he looks like a fucking model. (his hair is also longer now than it was when they met. long enough that he sometimes borrows hair ties from the girls to keep it out of his face while he's cooking (which is a whole other story) and eddie has to physically turn away to tear his eyes away from his neck.)

obviously he doesn’t tell anyone that he’s hot for steve. because it doesn’t matter. steve’s hot. that’s that.

but the problem is that he’s falling for steve. beyond the way his neck looks when he looks up at the ceiling and the way his muscles shift when he lifts something heavy, eddie is falling for the rest of him. his kindness, his bravery, the way he acts with the kids and robin and nancy, the quips and bitchy faces he makes when he’s annoyed. the way he traces the scars around his neck absentmindedly. (the scars that match eddie’s.) and eddie doesn’t just want to lick his chest and feel his fingers in his hair anymore, but he also wants to just… hold his hand. kiss him good morning. borrow his sweaters to sleep in and let their hair tangle in a hairbrush.

which is a problem because they’re actual friends now, apart from the all the trauma bonding. they bond over other things. over dustin and the kids, over teasing robin and teasing each other, over hawkins. and most of the time, eddie forgets he’s hot for him until he’s horny, and then steve is all he can think about.

he discovers that steve is hot when he smokes. they’re in steve’s living room with robin and nancy and jonathan and argyle, passing a bong around, and the way steve’s eyes shine, framed by his dark princess eyelashes, and the way he blows smoke at the ceiling and grins lazily make eddie feel like his skin is twisting. so he excuses himself to the upstairs bathroom for a few minutes. he bites the hand towel hanging by the sink to keep himself quiet. (nancy gives him a knowing look and smile when he comes back and he just flips her off. she giggles, but no one questions it because they’re all high.)

it’s still not really a problem. he’s good at pretending steve doesn’t make him feel lightheaded just by looking at him.

steve might be eddie’s best friend. which is nice. but also…

steve is a tactile person. eddie notices it at the very beginning of their friendship, watching how steve drapes himself over robin as she’s watching movies or talking with someone, how steve tugs dustin closer just to hold the back of his neck or his shoulder, how he holds eleven’s hand whenever she reaches for his. and steve is the same with him, leaning against him on the sofa, setting his legs over eddie’s lap. he doesn’t question it when eddie starts to headbutt him, rubbing his head and face against steve’s shoulder or arm or back just because. he just smiles or laughs quietly when it’s particularly aggressive, which just makes eddie’s heart grow warmer.

steve gives eddie a key to his house when his parents move out. i know you have a place with wayne, but it’s just… i want you to know that you, like… have somewhere to go. if you need it. so eddie gets a key made for his apartment gives it to steve two weeks later. you too. steve tries to hide his watery eyes, but eddie doesn’t let him. he just pulls him into a hug.

it doesn’t occur to him that it wasn’t entirely a great idea until he’s facedown in bed, crying and fucking himself with a toy, and the front door opens.

“eddie?”

eddie can’t even move, his vision blurred as his door opens and steve appears and freezes.

“oh.”

eddie says steve’s name, tears sliding across his skin and soaking into his sheets as he continues to fuck himself, hanging just on the precipice of enough, his body flushed with desperation and embarrassment.

steve must see it all, the desperation and embarrassment and all the tears, because he falters, his voice soft when he asks, “are you okay?”

“i can’t come,” eddie whines, a small sob escaping him, his hand slowing, and he hides his face in the mattress, squeezing his eyes shut, because holy fuck, steve is seeing this. seeing eddie like this, bare and more naked than he’s ever been because someone’s eyes are on him now. (he kind of likes it. feeling steve’s eyes trail over his skin, watching the toy. he feels seen.)

“do you want some help?” steve asks softly, his voice almost disappearing before it reaches eddie’s ears. eddie sobs again, nodding into the bed.

“please.”

it’s quiet for a moment before he feels the mattress shift and steve’s fingers run through his hair. eddie whimpers, letting out a quiet yes.

“look at me,” steve says lightly, quietly, gently. eddie turns his head, blinking up at him, breathing hard. steve caresses his head, hesitating. “i just got off work,” he says slowly, like he knows exactly how eddie’s brain is lagging. “and i’ve been handling money and stuff all day, so i’m gonna go wash my hands. and i’ll be right back. okay?”

“okay,” eddie says weakly.

“okay,” steve repeats softly with a smile. his hand disappears from eddie’s hair, and eddie whines as steve leaves to the bathroom down the hall. he keeps fucking himself as he listens to steve’s footsteps down the hall, to the bathroom sink running, to his bedroom door shut. his eyes flutter open when the mattress shifts again.

steve is laying next to him, his eyes soft, trained on eddie’s face even though eddie’s ass is in the air.

“what do you need?” steve whispers. eddie’s heart clenches. his hand stops again, holding the toy in place, and his brows furrow as his eyes water again.

��i need it to be real,” he says weakly without thinking.

“…what do you mean?”

eddie is still crying, and steve wipes a tear from the bridge of his nose carefully.

“need you to mean it, stevie,” eddie breathes. steve blinks at him, touching his cheek.

and then steve is moving closer, nudging their noses together, and eddie’s eyes close as their lips brush against each other.

“i mean it, eddie,” steve murmurs. and then he’s kissing him.

eddie gasps, releasing the toy and reaching for steve’s head, clutching at him, more desperate than he’s ever been. when they part, eddie’s skin is wet with tears and spit and eddie’s fingers have gotten lube in steve’s hair.

“what do you need?” steve asks again, his fingers brushing over eddie’s cheek.

“fuck me,” eddie breathes.

“…you sure?”

“please, steve,” eddie cries quietly. “i need it, i need you so bad.”

“okay,” steve whispers, kissing him again. “like this?”

“mm.”

steve shifts, moving to kneel behind eddie, and eddie is trembling with anticipation as he listens to steve undress, flushing with heat as he feels steve’s hand slide over his ass.

“you know you’re beautiful?” steve says softly, touching him. he presses against the toy for a moment, pushing it into eddie harder, making eddie whine, before he slowly, carefully pulls it out. “fuck.”

“stevie,” eddie whines, arching his back. one of steve’s hands squeezes, and his other traces eddie's hole lightly, his fingertip just pressing inside for a moment.

“you have condoms?”

eddie groans, gesturing with a flop of his arm to his bedside table, and steve laughs softly, getting up.

steve rubs his skin when he’s back, running his hands over eddie’s ass and thighs and the small of his back, his hands soft and warm and gentle on eddie’s scars before they pull away and eddie hears the clicking of the cap of the bottle of lube.

“ready?” steve whispers.

“yes.”

it’s better than the hairbrush. better than the toys. eddie groans, his voice muffled by the mattress, and steve lets out a soft shit.

“how do you want it?” steve asks roughly after pausing for eddie to adjust.

“hard. please. steve.”

“i got you, baby.”

baby. fuck. eddie’s never been called baby before. he’s never been called anything but his name, but freak and fag. he’s never been called anything sweet.

he starts crying again as steve fucks him, leaning over him, his hands on either side of eddie’s body.

“you feel good?” steve asks when he notices eddie crying.

“yes,” eddie chokes, delirious, gripping the sheets so tightly they might rip. “yes, so good, stevie. love your fucking dick.”

steve laughs, his breath on eddie’s shoulder before one of his hands slides over eddie’s back.

“just my dick?”

eddie giggles like he’s high, his back arching.

“love all of you,” he says.

“love all of you too, eddie.”

it doesn’t feel like the world’s tipped upside down like it should have. it feels like eddie already knew.

eddie whines, reaching back and grabbing steve’s hip, feeling it move back and forth, feeling his muscles shift under his skin.

“talk to me, stevie,” he says desperately, too loud.

steve leans down closer, brushing his lips over eddie’s shoulder.

“you wanna hear me?”

“mm.”

“i’m so obsessed with you,” steve says softly into eddie’s ear, breathing hard. eddie tilts his head to listen. “i’ve gotten off to… to the thought of you so many times.”

“really?” eddie says weakly.

“fuck. yeah.”

eddie whimpers, biting his lip so hard it might start bleeding.

“me too,” he says, because he doesn’t know how to articulate anything he’s thinking. steve seems to understand him.

“shit.” steve presses a rough kiss to eddie’s shoulder. “you’re so amazing, eddie. fucking everything about you. so fucking perfect. so pretty. that fucking hair. your lips.”

eddie’s head is filled with clouds. he’s crying, spit dripping from his mouth as it hangs open.

“steve,” he chokes. “gimme your hand.”

steve’s hand starts to slide down, under his hips, but eddie stops him with a quiet no, and he releases his hip, holding his hand up for steve to take it. their fingers lace tightly for a moment before eddie pulls steve’s hand to his mouth, sliding his tongue across his fingers.

“jesus,” steve murmurs, letting go of eddie’s hand and sliding two fingers into eddie’s mouth. eddie groans, holding steve’s wrist tightly. “you’re so perfect.”

eddie whimpers, sucking on his fingers and melting onto the mattress as it creaks with every thrust of steve’s hips.

“you’re so much better than a dildo,” eddie mumbles around his fingers, and steve laughs, kissing the back of his shoulder.

“am i your first time?” he asks after a second, like he’s just realised. eddie hums affirmatively, sucking on his fingers harder, smiling dopily when steve pushes them farther into his mouth, spreading them over his tongue. “god, you’re a fuckin’ natural, aren’t you?”

eddie giggles, drooling.

“can i go harder?” steve asks.

“yes. please.”

steve pulls his hand away from eddie’s mouth, and eddie whines softly, replacing his fingers with his own as steve sits ups straight, gripping eddie’s hips tightly before he slams into him. a short scream escapes eddie before he reaches to grab a pillow, pulling it close and burying his face in it.

“alright?” steve checks, breathless.

eddie moans into the pillow, pushing his ass back out toward him.

“words, eddie,” steve says, sliding a hand over his ass, and eddie lifts his head enough for steve to hear him.

“yes.”

“okay.”

eddie can hear steve’s smile in his voice.

eddie groans into the pillow as steve fucks him, each thrust hard enough that eddie’s whole body rocks forward, and he mumbles into the pillow even though steve can’t hear him.

“so fucking good, stevie, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…”

he’s getting closer. his moans grow louder, higher and higher, until steve’s hands tighten on his hips, gripping him like they’ll fall apart at the seams if he lets go. (the seams being the matching scars that cover their bodies.)

“you gonna come for me, honey?” steve asks breathlessly, sliding a hand up eddie’s spine. eddie groans and turns his head so steve can hear him.

“can i?”

“…come.”

eddie comes.

he’s always noisy when he comes, and he’s used to holding a pillow to his face to muffle it, but today is different. he’s groaning, low in his throat, and then he’s sobbing, his shoulders shaking as he cries. steve moans as he comes soon after, a hand running comfortingly down eddie’s back.

“fuck, eddie,” he pants. “you okay?”

eddie whines, trembling, and steve pulls out carefully, moving to lay next to eddie, pulling him into his arms. eddie’s legs give out under him and he lets steve pull him close, taking a gasping breath.

“slow,” steve instructs gently. “i got you.”

eddie inhales slowly, shakily, pressing his face into steve’s neck, focussing on the feeling of steve’s chest hair on eddie’s skin. his hands find steve’s waist, sliding to his back before they roll slightly so his arms can wrap around him.

“you okay?” steve asks softly after a few moments.

“‘m so okay, steve,” eddie murmurs. steve’s fingers run over his skin. “i’ve never come that hard. fuck.”

steve laughs softly, tilting his head to kiss the top of his head.

“got worried,” he says softly.

“don’t worry,” eddie says. he closes his eyes. “i’m just a crybaby.”

“sweet boy,” steve murmurs into his hair.

they’re quiet for a moment before steve carefully lets go of him, shifting to take off the condom and tie it off, rolling over to toss it to the trash can next to eddie’s desk.

“touch me,” eddie says before steve’s even rolled back over, and steve listens, pulling him close, tugging at him until he’s on top of steve, their legs tangled.

he closes his eyes as steve traces lines over his back, his fingertips dancing over eddie’s scars gently.

“did you mean it?” eddie asks softly after a minute. steve’s hands pause for a second before they continue.

“mean what?”

“that you… that you love me.”

“yes,” steve says without hesitating, without thinking.

“really?” eddie asks weakly.

“yes,” steve whispers again. “i love you. like… a lot.”

“fuck.”

“are you crying again?”

“…no,” eddie lies, but his voice cracks, and he feels steve’s chest move as he laughs softly, reaching to run his hand through eddie’s curls.

“crybaby,” he says fondly, kissing his head again. eddie whines, nuzzling into his neck. “i got you.”

eddie takes a shaky breath when he stops crying, sighing softly.

“next time,” steve says softly, “i wanna do this at my place.”

“why?” eddie asks, smiling.

“wanna make you as loud as possible.”

eddie snorts.

“yeah?”

“mm. wanna hear you scream without a pillow in your face.”

“okay,” eddie says softly. he could fall asleep here, his chest pressed to steve’s. their heart pressed together, beating in tandem with nothing but skin between them, feeling steve’s fingers sliding over his skin like they can’t decide where to stop. “you really like me?” he asks after a moment.

steve is quiet, still touching him.

“i came over today,” he starts slowly, voice soft. “because i had a bad day.”

eddie sits up, his forearms crossed over steve’s chest as he looks down at him, frowning a little bit. steve looks up at him fondly and tucks his hair behind his ear. his cheeks are flushed and rosy, his hair tousled, his eyes half-shut.

“work was rough,” he explains without eddie having to ask. “had a headache and some customers were rude and i just…” he shrugs weakly, nonchalantly. “couldn’t wait to get—“

he cuts himself off and swallows, his eyes flicking back and forth between eddie’s almost nervously.

“get what?” eddie prompts softly.

“…home.”

eddie blinks, his brain whirling, because steve is at eddie’s apartment right now, not his own house, and it all clicks. steve came to eddie’s after he had a hard day. steve called eddie’s name not three seconds after shutting the front door.

“oh.”

steve smiles weakly at him. eddie leans down and kisses him. he touches his cheek as steve’s lips part, caressing him. his skin is soft. he shivers when steve’s tongue slides over his lip, and he smiles when steve sucks on it softly.

“jesus,” he breathes when they part.

“what?” steve whispers.

“so good.”

“yeah?”

“mm.”

he tucks his face back into steve’s neck, sighing and relaxing, melting against steve, who reaches for the blanket and manages to drape it over their bare bodies. steve mumbles something about changing the sheets tomorrow.

“stevie?” eddie says after a few moments, feeling steve’s breaths become slow and sleepy.

“mhmm?”

“next time will you choke me?”

steve snorts, his arms tightening around eddie as eddie smiles.

“if you want me to. yeah.”

“‘s nice.”

“will you show me how?” steve asks. his voice is slurring a little bit, heavy with sleepiness. “‘ve never choked anyone. don’t wanna hurt you.”

“i’ll show you.”

“show me everything you like.”

“…you sure?”

steve scoffs.

“yes. want everything you’ll let me have.”

“…oh.”

“go to sleep, honey,” steve murmurs. eddie nuzzles into his neck and bites him. steve just hums and presses a hand to the small of his back. “love you.”

“love you too, stevie.”

[icallhimjoey]

You read Oonionchiver too??

Or....

You're Oonionchiver?....

i love– CAPITAL L!

i LOVE oonionchiver – i gobble up every single thing @azrielgreen releases into the universe, and to say ive been obSESSED with her collab with @thorniest-rose (also a fucking stunning writer) since they started posting together is a reaaaaaaaal understatement

[inklessletter]

Your most recent piece of Steve in glasses really gives this air of, "Are you going to shut up about Lord of the Rings and fuck me already?" and I love that so much ❤️

Yes, yes, and a thousand times y e s.

This is the face of a man whose patience is running so thin, he is one (1) second away to take off his glasses, start undressing while going to the bedroom as he tells Eddie "you either shut the fuck up right this moment or I am going to start without you, and you know what happens when you don't join the game on time: you don't get to play at all. Might let you watch, though."

This is the face of a man aware that he's already won the war that Eddie didn't even know he was fighting in.

Thank you for the ask, sweetheart 🌹🌹🌹

[steddieas-shegoes]

whatcha reading?

I'm starting a tag thing that's also gonna be a bit of a constant fic rec!

Basically, if you're tagged, all you need to do is post a fic you're currently reading or one you've read recently that you loved. It can be a WIP or completed, a one-shot, a series, anything! Bonus points if you can also tag the author on here so they know you're sharing the love (there's no actual point system here). Put why you love(d) it if you want to!

I'll start with this series that I've finally caught up on:

Between Worlds Series by Paryton (I don't see a tumblr linked in their notes but if anyone knows if they're here, please let me know!)

The first part is rated T, the next two parts are rated M. The third part is a WIP and it is INCREDIBLE. The concept is unique and beautifully done. The angst is the perfect level, the plot is adjusted perfectly, and the characterization is *chefs kiss*. It's a long read, but it is such a smooth story and worth every moment.

I'm gonna tag some people, but no pressure to do it. Or if you haven't read anything you want to recommend lately, but still want to share, feel free to just tag some people in the replies!

@zerokrox-blog @rozzieroos @simplebtromance @sidekick-hero @legitcookie @flowercrowngods @estrellami-1 @steves-strapcollection @every-aj-needs-an-angel @dauntlessdiva @nburkhardt @scoops-stevie @weirdandabsurd42 @emchant3d @thorniest-rose @tattooedbats @mx-jinxous @mrsjellymunson

[gorgeousgreymatter-x]

CW: descriptions of blood and violence, period typical homophobic slurs/language, possessive behaviors. Maybe a little bit dark!Steve because he’s not sorry about the violence lol

For @thorniest-rose my beloved 

It’s not like a switch that’s flipped when they make it out, when Nancy gets them all out. When Steve carries Eddie, pulse barely thrumming but still, somehow, gloriously alive, through the gate. When he remembers feeling like he was practically holding Eddie’s insides in until they’d made it to the hospital. When he saw Max lying there in that bed. Dustin’s broken ankle. The ugly bruising on Robin’s neck he sees on his own throat in the mirror for days afterwards. 

He doesn’t remember ever thinking it, let alone saying it — enough. Something about it though. Something about after. It changes him. Steve’s been in fights, has rarely run from them in the last four years, even if maybe he hadn’t come out victorious too many times. But this time it’s like something breaks. Turns him feral. Makes it impossible for him to walk away, turn the other cheek, do all the things he knows he should probably be doing now that he’s firmly in the ranks of the town freaks. 

But he can’t do it anymore. Can’t ignore it when he hears the whispering about Eddie when he’s finally cleared and free and at least able to limp around the trailer without falling over. When someone gives Robin and Nancy a dirty look when they’re sharing a milkshake while sat together in a booth at the diner with Steve and Eddie on the other side. When he hears those words. Those familiar, ugly words that taste as bad as Upside Down ash in his mouth:

Dyke. Queer. Fag. Murderer. Freak. Freak. Freak.

The first time someone spits at Eddie, Steve’s got them on the ground in seconds, fists pounding into soft flesh, blood roaring in his ears and staining his knuckles. He doesn’t stop until Dustin and Lucas physically pull him back, and even then he’s thrashing and swinging until his vision clears. 

The other boy, the asshole — he ends up with a broken nose and two black eyes, a split lip and a healthy fear of King Steve (the guy still crosses the street when he sees Steve coming, when he’s trailing behind Eddie as they walk down the street together like his personal guard). 

There are two more incidents in the weeks that follow, one of which ends up with Steve in cuffs and Hopper bailing him out of jail.

Charges are mysteriously dropped when Hopper finds out that the guy with the shattered orbital socket had said some choice words to Will and El before Steve had finally snapped. 

It’s stupid and reckless and probably doesn’t fix anything in the long run. Steve knows that. But he also doesn’t care. Because for the last four years he’s seen too much of his friends’ blood on other peoples’ hands. He doesn’t want to see it anymore. 

“I just can’t do it anymore, Eddie,” Steve explains one night on the floor of Eddie’s room, his hand braced on the older boy’s bony knee while Eddie winds bandages around Steve’s bruised knuckles for what feels like the hundredth time this summer. 

“Do what?”

“Let it go.”

He can’t really explain it anymore than that. 

Eddie’s brow furrows. “I know — I mean, I can guess why them. The kids. Nance — Robbie. They’re — they’re yours. I think I get it now. But why — why me? Why are you always doing this shit for me?”

That. That one’s easy, Steve thinks. “Because you’re mine too,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. For whatever reason, to Steve, it kind of feels like that. Maybe it means something bad that the revelation barely even rattles him at this point. 

It feels different though from the others. That much is sure when Steve’s eyes flutter shut when Eddie leans forward and presses a simple, nervous kiss to Steve’s bruised lips. 

When Steve’s hand comes up to cradle Eddie’s jaw, it’s as gentle as ever, even though when he finally licks into Eddie’s mouth, he tastes blood. 

[2jihiir0]

sour candy Steve 🍬🩷🎀 ♡ cause I’ve been obsessed with @thorniest-rose writing for a very long time !!!~

[sllooney]

Same here, anon. In fact, I may be re-reading the entire thing just now. It’s that good!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️

Prism is such a satisfying mindfuck. I've seemed to develop the same routine for reading it

1)frantically open it when I get notified a new chapter posted

2) speed read because I MUST know what happens

3) sit with emotions and variations of "goddamn. That was good"

4) re read to actually let all of the beautifully written prose and subtleties sink in

5) be in awe again.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

You're so sweet, thank you so much 😭😭😭 I love that you take the time to re-read it.

[oscarsgallery]

*his tall purple guy looking ass is just skulking around looking hella sketchy*

~ @the-thorniest-fruitiest-rose

ew, what the fuck ?

[azrielgreen]

Looking back at the last 2 years🖤

Huge energy shift happening in slow motion the last few weeks. Either go with the change and embrace the new energy or stay another cycle.

I feel so happy and excited that I got to write everything I wanted in the Steddie pairing and was able to share it with the people who WANTED to read it. I've always written for myself and I always will, but to have touched a few people along the way and brought a little light where it might not otherwise have been, that's a beautiful experience for me. I'm so grateful to everyone who reached out with kindness and passion. I'm grateful to have been so inspired. And I'm so happy I get to share more with you now as I go with the energetic shift that March always brings and follow the river where she leads.

There are several works about to be completed by me over the next week and even more after that, which is why I haven't been around much. This is so thrilling for me, honestly. Completing works is even better than starting them.

I'll always be writing for me, and sharing it with anyone who might like it. But as the energy shifts more and more, I wanted to share specifically what I'm grateful for the last few years and some of my best memories.

One of the first long comments I got on WSJK, it made me cry.

The first time I randomly saw a TikTok about my fics, nothing like that had ever happened to me before.

When I sold out the YD tarot deck in a single day.

People encouraging me to start a Patreon and then so many signing up!

Waking up to 100+ comments on ch2 of BOD.

Everyone who read week by week on You're Divine and supported me.

The people I met here who are my beloved friends now in real life

Those who reached out to share their own experiences with me.

Fanart, all of it♥︎ but especially the first piece that was ever sent to me by someone who asked me not to share it. If you, the artist, sees this (Eddie with his wrist over his mouth) please know that I still look at it every day.

To have inspired anyone, even just a little.

The freedom to write professionally.

Every single learning experience, bad or good.

The growing confidence to write whatever I want and share it.

Writing with @thorniest-rose

Bringing Little Bit to life - a character I've always had inside me who never had a name until YD.

Every comment showing the generosity of kindness people are capable of.

And most of all, the FUN I had every step of the way with these boys and the stories I got to tell through transformative works. You have no idea how much I ✨️LOVE✨️ writing, how fucking happy I am while working madly on a project. It's been INCREDIBLE to be so inspired for so long. It's not a chore for me, I don't care about reader numbers or popularity or anything like that, I just fucking LOVE to write and this pairing has been pure ecstacy to work with.

Bring on March, bring on the transformation and the fresh new ideas and the forward momentum. I can't fucking wait!!

Love, Azriel.

✨️💕💜💜💜💕✨️