very sinister to me whenever i see posts that are like “it’s so cute/romantic how zuko is a dick to every member of the gaang except for [the one op happens to ship him with]!” first of all, the notion that “a troubled guy who is rude to everyone but you” is somehow a sweet romantic ideal is just eminently problematic. no one should want a boyfriend (or girlfriend, or partner of any kind) who is an asshole to all your friends and loved ones and everyone they’ve ever met, even if they’re the sweetest kindest cuddliest person when you’re alone. that’s just an obvious red flag. but also, it’s not even true?? zuko treats every member of the gaang like shit at some point during the latter half of book 3, even if he is also (somewhat) nice to them at other points. he yells at katara about “how unfair it is that she doesn’t trust him yet” (it’s not. it’s totally deserved), he brusquely dismisses toph’s feelings when she tries to open up to him about her childhood trauma, he basically mocks and belittles aang for clinging to the remnants of his culture that zuko’s direct forefathers literally wiped off the planet (which he does in multiple episodes, btw), he exploits sokka’s photographic memory for his own ends after interrupting his date to force him to recount one of the most traumatic days of his entire life like sokka is just there to be his genius butler or something, and he mostly just seems to pretend that suki doesn’t even exist. this also goes for every other character btw, including mai, ty lee, jin, song, jet, or whomever else you may ship him with. the only character zuko is consistently nice to is that kid lee from “zuko alone,” bc he’s healing his inner child or whatever. so romanticize the fact that zuko is inexplicably good with kids all you want, but when it comes to dating, i actually think zuko should take a vow of abstinence for at least the next decade or so.
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more from the reincarnated band au in the form of: sometimes you're just a girl who wants to have a nice lunch date w your partner, but then her incredibly rude coworker stalks in (bc he stalks everywhere) and then you realise you've miscalculated bc the shop is one block away from the gym and his appearance makes sense, he does leave the gym at this hour (you're annoyed that you know ouyang's routine). Some random jockman is trailing after him and ouyang appears as pleased as he is desperate to evade him, and they both sit down with you and you end up eating your noodles next to some sweaty guy you just met, while zhu and ouyang bicker gleefully at each other about music.
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464 words of pre-slash pining fluff for day one of @steddie-week / rated G or T
It’s not as tight a fit in the listening booth as Eddie hoped it would be, but it does get him closer to Steve than he’s been all day. (Well, except for when he draped himself all over Steve at their table in the food court, or when they were pressed close in the photo booth, Eddie goading Steve into making goofy faces, or when their knees were resting together at the movies earlier.)
But they’re in their own bubble here. The rest of the world completely shut out. Just the two of them, one set of headphones, and a song shared between them.
Eddie has the album at home, and he wouldn’t be surprised if Steve knows that, but he didn’t resist when Eddie dragged him in here with one hand curled around Steve’s wrist, the other clutching the album they’re listening to now.
The song is so familiar and it fades to the background as Eddie watches Steve sidelong; the drums keep time with the beat of his heart, the howling guitar could be the singing in his blood. He catches Steve looking at him, once, twice, three times, his pulse skipping whenever their gazes lock.
This is almost everything Eddie wants. Listening to music with Steve, forgetting about the world beyond the song and the space between them. It would be perfect if he was sure that Steve’s heart is beating as hard as his, that his skin tingles at the nearness of Eddie, the way Eddie’s skin is tingling, now, being so close to Steve. The way his stomach swoops, and his chest feels full to bursting, how he’s every single fucking hopelessly in love cliche whenever they’re together, and even more when they’re not.
But he doesn’t know. He has no fucking clue. Sometimes, maybe, he thinks—hopes—but how can he be sure? He’s out of his depths here. It drives him crazy but, fuck, in moments like this he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Steve shifts, their hips bumping together, the brush of his arm against Eddie’s sending electricity through him. It draws Steve closer and he doesn’t move away, so they listen to the rest of the song pressed close, like the booth is half the size.
“So”—Eddie pulls his side of the headphones away from his ear when the song ends—“what did you think?” He bites his lip, kicks Steve’s foot.
“I think I liked it.” Steve’s gaze flicks outside the booth, then fixes back on Eddie. His eyes twinkle, warm and dark, and he turns so he’s facing Eddie fully. He licks his lips and leans in, saying, “But maybe we could listen to it again?”
“Yeah,” Eddie says, a smile forming, “maybe we could,” and he starts the song over.
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