I’m a bit rusty with fanart and I feel like I didn’t quite get Steve right in my last post. He’s kinda hard to draw for me. So of course I had to draw him some more to right that wrong.

This is still inspired by @harringroveheart ‘s wonderful fic, maybe there is a beast. I’m absolutely fascinated by her version of Steve. It’s one of the first harringrove fanfics I’ve read and now I’m worried that I’ve spoiled myself with something too good and no other will compare hahah

Breaking and Entering [Your Heart]

“I'm telling you, Rob, this place is haunted.”

The only response Steve gets from his best friend is an eye roll as she makes her way to the kitchen, where breakfast awaits them in all its sweet-smelling glory.  

Fine, he admits it sounds crazy when he says it out loud, but he's telling the truth; this apartment is haunted, and if Steve wasn't so fucking broke right now, he'd be looking for a new place already. But with the meager salary the hospital has been paying him, and without the monthly allowance from his parents, Steve can barely afford this haunted apartment; he really doubts he'd find anything better than this even if he tried.

“I’m serious here!” Steve insists.

Robin still doesn’t seem convinced. She takes a look around the tiny kitchen; from the well-loved hardwood flooring to the mismatched tiles over the sink and then the peeling paint on the ceiling.

“Doesn’t look haunted to me, just looks like it needs some serious renovations,” she says, hands on her hips as she considers her surroundings. “What the hell is that weird stain on the ceiling?”

“I don’t know, it was already there when I moved in.”

[guy who has been holding an insane amount of tension in his body for a week straight] bro why do I feel so awful

Sure, Steve was never great in school, especially those last couple of years when there was so much else that seemed more important, and numbers were always just about the worst. Still, he learns when it's important, he puts the effort in, and right now he's focused on learning Eddie math.

Like how Eddie always asks for at least five sugars in his coffee, but he gets that sweet little smile against the rim of his mug when Steve puts in three and a half.

Like how he always adds five on whenever Steve's helping him with his stretches, counts backwards and sideways around the numbers Steve's saying just to throw him off.

Like how if he's counting them right, sweat beading on his forehead, those are the times that Steve maybe needs to knock a couple off himeslf and find the hot water bottle Erica dug out for him, the one with a cover like a ragged cat, only one button eye still attached.

Steve has learned that a three with gritted teeth is actually a six, pain-wise, and he should pay no attention when Eddie covers his face, his grin and insists it's 'eleven, Steve, it's eleven, get off me, I'm dead!'

Steve has learned that when Eddie refuses to put a number on it, grey-faced and tired and out of patience with all of it, he's best off hauling the TV into the bedroom and letting Eddie relax into his body heat, ignore his uneven breathing and let him bitch about inconsistencies and physical impossibilities while things blow up on screen.

He pays attention when it's important. He learns.

So he's not sure he deserves the startled looks when he corrects Dustin, mid-campaign, as he's putting a plate of cookies next to Eddie's right hand. (Right side's a three today, but his left arm's a seven.)

"You sharpened it, right? At the forge in the village, there was that wet stone."

"Whetstone," Eddie murmurs, intonation slightly different.

"That's what I said. Eddie said that was a plus one to damage for the rest of the day. Right?"

"Right," Dustin says, after a second, and Steve really doesn't appreciate the disbelief in his tone.

"I'm not an idiot," he mutters, and then startles at the brush of callused fingers, Eddie's hand wrapping loosely around his wrist.

"You're not an idiot," Eddie agrees, looking up at him with a lopsided smile that's got something else around the edges, like confusion, or maybe dawning understanding, like he's learning something new.

"I pay attention when it's important," Steve says, and his heart thumps in his chest at the brightness of Eddie's grin.

I saw that my old Eddie (5s) concept was relevant again and decided to redraw it.

original:

Eddie's concept for season 5🦇

Tech guy Eddie Munson who's always being called into the office because Steve, the cute accountant with the pretty hair, is just clueless when it comes to computers and keeps having problems all the time.

"I don't know what I did wrong," Steve says, as he watches Eddie crouch down to take a better look at his computer for the third time that week. "This thing just turned off out of nowhere."

"Maybe you should try keeping it plugged in?" Eddie says in amusement, holding the power cord up for Steve to see.

"Oh, man, how come I didn't notice that?"

Steve is so full of shit, it's freaking adorable.

Eddie grins at him, plugs the cable in and pretends not to know what Steve is doing there.

"All done. See you tomorrow, Stevie."

@cozysweatersteve, I like to think that when Eddie sees Steve in the office, coming his way, he thinks that Steve is just about to make up an excuse to talk to him again. But then he sees how distressed Steve really is, his eyes all red and his lip wobbling and this kills Eddie.

And that's basically the moment he realizes he actually cares about Steve. Sure, flirting while he 'fixed' the guy's computer was fun and all, but when he saw Steve distressed and needing him for real Eddie realizes he would do anything to help him and that is why he gets so nervous when Steve starts flirting with him again. Because now it's not just fun, it matters and that changes things.

It's a good thing Steve is pretty much on the same page and now Steve has a free-pass to ogle Eddie as much as he wants because that's his boyfriend, thank you very much.

He's not dead, he's just out back having a smoke.

Art student Eddie Munson, who's fascinated by the beautiful stranger that catches the same train as he does when he's going home from art school every night.

Eddie's never seen someone so effortlessly beautiful in his life. The man can be wearing the dorkiest clothes (which he does, by the way), but he still looks like he should be on the cover of some magazine or something.

It's impossible not to stare.

Eddie tries to be subtle. The guy is usually distracted, sometimes on his phone, sometimes chatting with an old lady that frequently takes the train too and seems familiar with the pretty guy, so Eddie can steal glances and drink in the man's beauty from his seat across the train.

One night, the guy shows up with a bright red stain on his jaw that looks a lot like paint and Eddie just can't take it anymore. He finally gives in to the urge he's been feeling for weeks, pulls his sketchbook out of his bag and starts drawing him.

It becomes a thing.

Everyday, Eddie gets in the train, takes his usual seat opposite from where the guy is, takes his sketchbook and draws. This goes on for a couple of weeks, Eddie now has at least half a dozen sketches of the man.

Then, on an ordinary Friday night, Eddie is so focused on his sketch that he doesn't notice the man approaching him, and almost has a heart attack when a smooth voice says beside him, "Is that me?"

Eddie jumps, heart racing as he hugs the sketchbook to his chest and finds himself staring at the pretty man's hazel eyes, now only a few inches from him.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," the man apologizes, but Eddie is too busy freaking the hell out to say anything. "Were you drawing me?"

Eddie nods, still unable to speak.

"You're very good."

Then it's too much and the words just leave Eddie's mouth before he can eveb think of what he's saying.

"I'm sorry if this is weird. This is weird, isn't it? Jesus, you're probably thinking I'm a stalker or something. I'm not, I swear, but you have such good bone structure, your face is so symmetrical, it's perfect for drawing and-"

"So you think I have a perfect face, huh?"

Eddie's mouth snaps shut, his eyes so wide they could be popping out any moment now.

The man grins. "Hey, calm down, I'm fucking with you. Don't panic." He leans a little, bumps their shoulder together in a friendly manner. "I noticed you've been drawing a lot for the past weeks and got curious. And I'm not mad that you've been drawing me, if anything I'm kinda flattered, really."

That does help calm Eddie down. A relieved sigh escapes his lips, and he opens a small grateful smile. The man smiles back.

"Can I see it?" he asks, pointing at the sketchbook still clutched in Eddie's hands.

"Sure." It's only fair, Eddie thinks as he hands him the book.

The man lets out a little whistle. "You're very, very good. This is amazing."

"Thanks."

The man doesn't flip the pages to see what's in them, a very considerate gesture of him, honestly, and hands the sketchbook back after a few more moments.

Their fingers brush, Eddie feels his face heating up as they share a look.

"I'm Steve, by the way. Probably should have started with that instead of scaring you shitless."

Eddie laughs. "I'm Eddie."

"Nice to meet you Eddie." Steve offers a hand, and Eddie only hesitates for a second before shaking it. "I'd love if you showed me more of your art. Are you busy right now? I know a very good pizza place close to the next stop, we could grab a bite and you could show me what else you've been drawing."

There's not a trace of hesitation in his voice when Eddie says, "I'd love that."

freaks of hawkins 🦇⊹ ࣪ ˖

the grim reality for a lot of nonbinary people is that their options are closet themselves and be perpetually misunderstood by the world at large or be out and proud and be perpetually misunderstood by the world at large

sometimes i be saying im gonna go to bed and then i dont go to bed. frequently in fact. this is because i have the heart of an optimist and the soul of a liar

i need a boyfriend. i need a girlfriend. i need to be single forever. i need a toxic situationship. i need a problematically older man to be homoerotically involved with. i need to have gay sex. i need no one to ever touch me ever again in any way. i need top surgery. i need a hug.

'Pretty big eggs'. Alai Ganuza. 2022.

Post credits scenes I pinky promise