nian

sometimes i draw • ita/eng • no repost 

[nounuoo]

i recently watched the new n3tflix dmc series and then all the dmcs gameplays and i'm here to say dmc3 dante supremacy ‼️🗣

[nounuoo]

i wanted to try !

[nounuoo]

i'm gonna call her eve say hi

[nounuoo]

my two special interests ....... mixed ..........

[nounuoo]

forgot to post it here

[nounuoo]

i had this in my tablet for months

[nounuoo]

finally watched atsv !!!

[nounuoo]

the link obsession is real

[heybluechild]

today's silly little steddie scenario (brainstormed a couple weeks ago with @nobodys-baby-now and based on this fan art by @nounuoo)

the first time that eddie and steve wear each other's clothes, it's a total accident.

steve came over to hang out, stayed too late, drank a couple beers and forgot he had to drive home, and ended up crashing at eddie's place. their relationship is still tender and new at this point, both of them finding their feet like baby deer, or some other poetic shit steve would come up with. that said, there's nothing hesitant about the way they crawl into bed and wrap themselves around each other on eddie's stained mattress, nor how eddie's hair somehow ends up in steve’s mouth, or how steve snores directly in eddie's ear.

both of them oversleep the next morning. they only wake up when wayne gets home from the graveyard shift, which sends steve rocketing out of bed with a "shit, shit, shit! I'm going to be late! fuck, again," as he fumbles randomly through the discarded clothes on the floor to find his pants and his shirt so he can break the speed limit on the way to family video.

he spares a moment to lean over the bed and kiss a very groggy eddie on the forehead before running out the door.

eddie goes back to sleep. when he wakes up an hour or so later, he rolls over and silences his alarm and surveys the mess of his room. on the floor by his bed is the pair of jeans he discarded last night, but his black shirt is nowhere to be found. in its place is a blue polo, the one that's bisected by a thick white stripe right over the chest, the one with the starched white collar.

eddie frowns. that's steve's shirt. he was wearing it yesterday. that means that steve didn't grab that shirt off the ground when he was running off to work, but he was wearing a shirt when he left, which means...

which means that across town, at family video, steve harrington is standing behind the counter in a green vest and eddie's shirt.

eddie’s stomach does a backflip. he fights the urge to kick his feet and twirl his hair. instead, he just rolls over, buries his face in his pillow, and yells at the idea of his boyfriend wearing his shirt in public.

then he gets up and gets dressed.

sure, he has plenty of other shirts in his closet, all probably more appropriate for his shift at work and band practice later in the day. but steve’s shirt is on the floor, and it smells like steve—like his expensive shampoo and conditioner and his sweat and his cologne—and steve is wearing eddie’s shirt, so it’s only fair that eddie wear steve’s. totally. that’s logical, right? absolutely.

plus, the shirt is just a little too big for eddie, and when he looks in the mirror he likes the way the collar gaps and shows off his necklace and collarbones. he likes the slight looseness in the shoulders and the sleeves, because he it reminds him that steve is just that much broader than him. he pairs it with his standard black jeans—a clean pair, thank you very much—and silver accessories and heads out the door with a bounce in his step that he would never, even under interrogation, admit to.

at work, no one really comments on the shirt. it’s navy blue and close enough to black that it looks reasonably like his own clothes. it’s his attitude that people notice. they’re used to eddie being friendly when approached, perhaps a little distractible, often lost in his thoughts and tapping out rhythms on the countertop. they are not used to eddie standing there with his chin propped in his hand, totally spaced out, smiling vaguely like he’s high off his ass. (he’s not.) (not at the moment.)

his boss comes in to check on the shop and sees eddie behind the counter, wearing a shirt he’s definitely never seen him wearing before, staring off into space.

“y’alright, son?”

eddie jumps. he shifts, tugs conspicuously on the collar of his shirt—that shirt’s too big for him, but his boss won’t judge, he knows all about hand-me-downs.

he does notice the red mark on eddie’s neck, though. he snorts. damn kids. he always wondered if eddie had a girl somewhere, and it seems the answer is yes.

“uh, yeah, I’m fine. thanks,” eddie responds.

he catches eddie spacing out no fewer than three more times during the rest of his shift. eddie’s a good kid, a hard worker, so he doesn’t say anything about it.

after work, eddie heads to practice with his band. work was easy today, not too busy, giving him plenty of time to doodle campaign plans and song notes in his beat-up black composition book. and so what if he kept getting distracted by the thought of steve wearing his shirt all day? it’s not his fault. it’s really hard not to think about steve when he’s wearing steve’s polo and smelling steve on his skin all day. it’s silly, but wearing steve’s clothes makes eddie feel safe, like he’s wearing a piece of king steve’s armor all day. like steve is here with him, even when he’s not; like eddie is wearing a tag that says “property of steve harrington. don’t touch.”

that might be the least metal thought he’s ever had. sue him. he’s young and in love for the first time. he’s allowed to be corny.

he walks into band practice with all the confidence of a rockstar, which is immediately deflated after gareth takes a single look at him and raises an eyebrow.

“dude, did you get dressed in the dark?”

eddie looks up from where he’s unpacking his stuff. “huh?”

before gareth can answer, jeff comes bounding into the garage from inside the house with a can of coke in hand. he looks at eddie, then at gareth, then back at eddie, and laughs.

“woah, we got a gap model on our hands,” he snorts.

eddie’s face burns and he ducks his head to hide it. the fourth member of their cohort comes in from the house and eddie shoots him a look.

“don’t say anything,” he grumbles.

JD frowns. “what? I was gonna say I like the, uh…whatever you’re wearing. looks cool.”

“looks cool? JD, man, he looks like he got lost in a jcpenney.”

“or the sears catalogue.”

JD walks by eddie and wrinkles up his nose. “I take it back. dude, you smell weird. what is that, eau de douchebag?”

eddie slams his guitar case shut. “alright! I get it. can we actually play some goddamn music now? this isn’t stand-up. no offense, but don’t quit your day jobs.”

gareth snickers.

eddie glares at him. “actually, full offense.”

the guys chuckle a little more, but they eventually get out their instruments and start the rehearsal. eddie pauses to button up the stupid collar of this polo a little more—not because he’s ashamed, but because he doesn’t need the guys to start razzing him about having a super visible hickey, too. it’s not his fault steve got a little carried away last night.

after all of that, eddie drives over to family video, just to say hi to robin and see if there’s anything new to watch. steve’s already left—dinner with his parents, or some shit that made him grumpy when he talked about it—and eddie is surprised to find mike wheeler and dustin henderson behind the counter when he walks in.

“hey, rob? you’ve got a gremlin infestation,” eddie shouts, leaning into the back room.

robin sticks her head out from behind a shelving unit. she sees the kids behind the counter and emerges with a scowl. “out! I told you that you could take one pack of candy, and this is how you thank me?”

dustin and mike scamper out from behind the counter. eddie is honestly impressed at how easily robin gets them to obey. they seem to finally register eddie’s presence, and eddie knows he’s fucked from the moment dustin looks down from eddie’s face to his chest.

“what are you goblins doing here?” eddie says, hoping to distract them.

dustin plows right over the question. “that’s steve’s…hey, wait a second.”

“hey eddie,” mike says, and from the look on his face eddie is reminded that his adorable little sheep is also a massive fucking twit. “where’d you get that shirt? your mommy get it from the goddamn gap?”

dustin laughs so loud that you can probably hear it on the other side of the mississippi.

(later, when eddie comes home and finds steve already waiting for him in his room, he flops facedown on the mattress with a groan and asks steve if he also got teased all day for wearing eddie’s shirt.

“what? no, robin said that everybody who came in was flirting with me.”

“you didn’t notice?”

“that they were flirting with me? why would I notice who’s flirting with me when I’ve got you waiting for me at home?”

“…fucking sap.”)

☆

more steddie fics & HCs

[nounuoo]

vibe check failed 

[nounuoo]

hiya you said you read a lot of hurt/comfort steddie fics under that amazing piece of art that you made (seriously. they’re baby and i need them to be happy 🥺). can i ask, can you recommend any specific hurt/comfort fics?

hi!! thank you 💕

i don't remember many fics bc i usually don't bookmark them BUT i loved "the most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway is that it's you" (i think everyone knows this one) and "and i know that you don't, but if i ask you if you love me—" (i cried)

both on ao3, steve centric, angst with a happy ending (first one is explicit, the other is sfw) ☺️

[nounuoo]

hurt/comfort  

[nounuoo]

sleepy boys 

[nounuoo]

he despise this shirt 

[nounuoo]

hellfire club’s honorary member (he’s the dungeon master’s boyfriend)

[nounuoo]

what are they talking about ??? 🤭

[nounuoo]

i’ve spent like 20 hours on this 😃