The lighting in the S1 1941 flashback is so painfully dark I was rewatching it on a 150% brightness and perhaps I am five years late, but how come I've never noticed that this
is how Aziraphale gazes at Crowley before the "little demonic miracle of my own"???
This is him before the love realisation, just after Aziraphale miracled them both safe from the bomb exploding on the church with the Nazis. No heartwarming acts of service yet — best to his knowledge, Crowley was only there for moral support, because he "didn't want him to get embarassed".
And his gaze is— I don't know what to say. Like it would kill him to look away. So fond, so immersed, "oh God, there you are", like hundreds of years have passed, not decades since they saw each other last. Books? What books? What air raid, what war?
Arguably the best part of the scene happens literal seconds after. If you pay close attention to the whole shot, you'll spot the brown satchel on the side. Which Aziraphale would notice earlier too, if he could focus on anything other than Crowley.
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Danny was...unnerved, which is unusual considering his upbringing as the child of mad scientists obsessed with the undead.
It had been a few weeks since he had moved into Wayne manor after a conflict between batman and his parents, which led to his home and his friends and family being blown up in a lab malfunction. Most of Amity Park was destroyed in the blasts, including Vlad and his mansion.
Usually Danny would be more suspicious of super rich dudes, but the sorrow in Bruce Wayne's eyes as he pleaded to let Danny take him in was genuine and well, Danny didn't exactly have anywhere else to go. Plus, Bruce looked weirdly guilty when danny told him none of this was his fault, which was weird. Jazz was in college and always looked exhausted on video calls, so he didn't want to bother her there.
The part that bothered him most wasn't that there was anything dangerous or bad happening, but rather the opposite.
Danny was used to dodging his home security system when it randomly targeted him. He was used to ghosts popping up out of nowhere to suckerpunch him. He was used to danger.
And now that there was none, he was jumping at shadows.
Things got better when he met Psaro. He was in the process of being either mugged or kidnapped, he wasn't sure, when this angry goth teen with silver hair and ruby eyes literally came in swinging a steel chair. After the beat down and subsequent rescue, Danny offered to buy them some food. Psaro tried to reject the offer until his stomach suddenly growled, making him blush, and Danny dragged the older goth teen to a restaurant.
They've been best friends since. Psaro later introduced him to his friends Rose and Toilen, explaining that they weren't from this world and that Rose was an elf and Toilen was a Teran from a planet called Terrestria. Danny assumed that Psaro was an elf like Rose due to them both having long pointed ears and mostly focused on Toilen thanks to the "other planet" bit.
Meanwhile, the bats have been keeping an eye out on Danny (aka stalking him) and his new, obviously magical friends.
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i so badly want one of those fic examinations of steve's relationship with joyce and hopper but solely through eddie's pov like hear me out
steve and eddie chat a lot in the upside down (and later in the hospital, when they learn hop is alive). steve has taken charge of filling eddie in on the rest of their of-age crew without the kids butting in. he never mentions his own parents, but he talks about the rest of the party's a lot, especially joyce and hopper. eddie knows what it's like to desperately want someone to be your parent and trying to hide it from his own childhood, when he would try to be cool about wayne dropping him off at his dad's house. steve obviously adores joyce and hopper, thinks the world of them and legitimately looks up to them.
eddie isn't sure what he expects from a cop who came back to life and the world's most determined housewife, but he's excited to meet them as someone steve loves.
cue eddie's horror when he realizes that neither of them really feel much for steve rather than annoyance and vague distrust. that joyce trusts will with eddie, an accused murderer, in a heartbeat and still hesitates to leave him with steve. that hopper brushes off every ounce of steve's hero worship and joy.
he tries to broach the topic with steve, gently, and is heartbroken when steve genuinely has no idea what he's talking about. and not because he's oblivious, but because steve thinks that's what he deserves. he thinks that's the parental love that someone who was an asshole in high school needs, because that's what would make him a good person. he needs people to call him out constantly, obviously, because why else would they keep doing it? why would nancy? at least they're here. at least they're not ignoring him. at least they're not forcing him into a box. they just want him to be better.
like, this is the man who thanked a girl for calling him bullshit and telling him she never loved him. he doesn't Know that's not how you're supposed to handle things. no one ever taught him that.
and now eddie's gotta figure out how he can teach steve how to be loved the right way without outing himself and his huge crush on his love-starved dork of a friend.
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"What's this?" Eddie asks, wide eyed and curious as he shifts the papers on Steve's desk, shuffling past unopened mail and timestamps for the page buried beneath it all, and Steve has just enough time to turn in horror before Eddie unearths it.
It - his shame, his fear, his heart laid out in graphite against a backsplash of fine white paper. He'd splurged on the stack of it hidden in one of his desk drawers, a luxury he couldn't really afford anymore but one he'd decided was worth it now that his parents had made it clear they wouldn't be back any time soon to take it from him.
He knows every line of it, every piece of shading, all the highlights he'd agonized over and the spots where he couldn't be satisfied by the shape of the nose, the angle of the jawline.
Eddie takes it in for long enough that Steve can feel time dilating around them, an infinite gasping maw of nothingness and everything all at once.
And when he's taken his fill of it, his gaze flits up again. Meets Steve's, and holds.
"It's me."
Steve breathes. In, out, two careful measures. He swallows. He contemplates, just for a moment, leaping out the window. He breathes. He swallows, again, his throat tight. He breathes.
Eddie in profile, bottom lip pinched by his teeth. Eddie, with dark shadows tilted across his jaw, his nose, his Adams apple, where a curtain of hair blocks out the light. Eddie, eyes crinkled at the corners, smile lines rushing into the heavy dip of a dimple barely visible beside the fall of his hair.
Eddie.
"But -." Eddie stares. At Steve, for a moment, before his eyes flit back to the stark lines of the portrait Steve had liked just enough not to take out and burn with the rest of them.
"I'm sorry," Steve tells him, and he means it. Sorry, for not saying anything earlier. Sorry, for accepting Eddie's friendship and taking advantage of his easy way with people. Sorry for drinking in the sight of him and squirreling away the details of each moment, hoarding each memory away for the long winter that would come to be when Eddie eventually moved on.
"You..." Eddie swallows. Breathes. In and out, a rattle of bones and teeth and sinew Steve is intimately familiar with. "It's me," he says, again, confusion furling out over his brow.
But it's not - he's not -
"I thought you'd be mad."
Eddie startles. "Mad? Mad for - why would I...?" Eyes dart to Steve, studying him. And he knows - Steve has recounted to him every missed birthday and every cool and quiet dinner with his parents, every detail of his surface level friendships before Robin, every hurt he and Nancy ever doled out to one another in their anger and fear and pain. He knows.
He knows Steve just as surely as Steve knows him.
"Sweetheart," Eddie says, in that soft, sweet voice he has for broken things he means to repair.
Steve swallows, and he breathes.
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