#In case you couldn't tell

[riality-check]

The eagerly awaited part 2 of the DILF!Steve concert saga is here!! Part 1, in case you missed it.

"You're not going."

"Come on! I haven't thrown up in an hour!"

"The drive to the venue is an hour and a half."

"Steve-"

"And if you throw up in my car-"

"Oh my God-"

"I'll kill you."

Steve doesn't need to see Dustin's eye roll in order to feel the full force of it through the phone.

"I'll just kill you. You'll have a headstone within the week that says Here Lies Dustin Henderson: Rightfully Murdered for Puking in Steve Harrington's Car," he continues as he packs Capri-Suns into the cooler for the car ride.

He doesn't remember ever being that thirsty as a kid, but if Anna wants strawberry kiwi, Anna gets strawberry kiwi. It helps that it's Steve's favorite flavor, too.

"I'd need a big ass headstone to fit all of that," Dustin snaps.

"Your big-ass ego would demand no less, shithead," Steve shoots back.

"Swear jar, Daddy!" Anna calls from her room, across the house because while she doesn't listen to Steve when he's right in front of her, she can hear him break the swear jar rule from halfway across the world.

He zips up the cooler, fishes a quarter out of his pocket, and throws it into the half-full soup can next to the stove.

(A quarter doesn't mean much, but Anna doesn't know that. The day Steve teaches that kid about inflation is the day his pockets become permanently empty.)

"Did she just swear jar you?" Dustin asks from over the phone.

"You baited me into it."

"I did no such thing."

Steve rolls his eyes. "You're not coming, though, are you?"

Dustin sighs, and, for all his teasing, Steve does genuinely feel bad. "I still feel like if I breathe wrong, I'll hurl, so, no. I don't think I'll manage the car ride, nevermind the actual show."

"Sorry dude."

"Don't be. Some dickhead will live stream the whole thing on Instagram, anyway. I'll live vicariously through them."

Steve snorts and picks up the cooler. He got Anna dressed beforehand, so it's just a matter of getting her to stop playing with whatever toy she dug up - Play-Doh has been the fixation of the week - in her room so they can go.

"Besides," Dustin continues, and Steve hates where this is going. "Anna loved the show, and you've got a reason-"

"Nope," Steve says, knocking on Anna's door. "Don't finish that sentence."

"All I'm saying-"

"I know what you're gong to say, which means you know my answer. I don't date."

Anna opens her door. From the little Steve can see inside, there are at least three containers of Play-Doh open and strewn across the floor. He thinks her Barbies are involved in it somehow.

"Time to go," Steve says, and he thinks, Please don't let there be Play-Doh in the Barbie hair.

"Five more minutes," Anna tries.

"Nope. Clean up and roll out."

"Hi, Anna," Dustin says through the phone.

"Uncle Dusty!" Anna shrieks, and she starts jumping up and down. "Are you comin', too?"

Dustin sighs, and Steve can't tell if it's at the nickname or if he's still cursing the universe. "No, but you and your dad have a great time, okay?"

"Can you, can you tell Daddy I should get five more minutes?"

Steve raises his eyebrows at her. Anna, to her credit, ignores him wonderfully.

"If you clean up," Dustin says, because he's actually Steve's favorite person right now, "you get to do more headbanging at the concert."

Anna gasps like Steve didn't already tell her that earlier today, and she gets to work on putting her toys away. Steve helps, of course, and he finds that there is, in fact, Play-Doh in two of her Barbies' hair.

Fun. They're going to turn into Buzzcut Barbies when Anna goes to sleep because he can already tell that they are the furthest thing from salvageable.

But that doesn't matter right now. What matters is getting Anna in the car, deploying the first two of many strawberry kiwi Capri Suns from the cooler, and making the drive to the venue, which Steve does with minimal road rage and accompanied by the Disney radio station.

Success by all metrics, really.

Dinner might as well be now, so Steve shells out a truly disgusting amount of money for overpriced chicken nuggets and fries at the venue. Anna will only eat half her portion but say she's hungry later, but that's what the snacks and water Steve smuggled in via his jacket are for.

They get to their seats, dinner finished up, just as the lights go down for the first opener. Steve looks to his left, half-expecting Eddie and his friends to be there before remembering that they won't be.

He tries not to feel too disappointed. He fails miserably.

The seat next to him, however, isn't empty. There's a note taped to the back of it, one addressed to Steve and Miss Anna, so Steve feels alright taking and opening it.

At the top, there's a messily scrawled phone number. Underneath, it says:

Here's my number. Probably a bad idea to call with all the noise. Texting works, though you should do that after the show. I'll be a little busy until then.

-Eddie

Steve puts the note in his pocket, puts Anna's ear defenders on, puts his own earplugs in, and looks at the stage, where-

Hang on.

He squints at the stage, where four guys have started playing a song that, frankly, sounds too much like literally all the music Steve listened to yesterday for him to care about all that much. The drummer is pretty small, with wild, curly hair. The bassist looks familiar. The lead singer, who is very talented but not to Steve's personal taste, also looks familiar. And the guitarist-

No way. No way in hell.

It's a total coincidence. Lots of guys have long, curly hair and heavy jewelry and big eyes and are wearing formal wear, for some reason, and catch Steve's eye, and-

"Thank you for such a great welcome!" the guitarist says, and his smile totally isn't doing anything to Steve, thanks very much.

Anna stops moving, where she's standing next to Steve, and climbs up into his lap to get a better look at the stage. She looks out, then back at Steve, then out, then back at Steve, making a face as confused as Steve feels.

Some days, he thinks he ended up with a clone, not a kid.

"I'll get off the mic in a second. I only do the talking because Jeff," the guitarist points at the lead singer, who ducks his head, "is really shy."

Jeff. That name is definitely relevant, but Steve is a permanent resident of denial.

"We fought about what song we were going to include next in our set list, so much so that we didn't decide until yesterday and had to consult a tiebreaker."

Okay, maybe Steve is a less permanent resident of denial than he thought.

"So, thank you to Miss Anna, who did great at headbanging for her first time-"

Anna whips around so fast, her forehead nearly collides with Steve's jaw.

"And to Steve, who's a big fan of American Psycho."

At the song name, the crowd loses their minds, and if Anna wasn't sitting right in front of him, Steve would join them.

Because what the fuck is happening right now?

His question isn't answered. In fact, about five more questions pop up in its stead when, during the bridge of the song, Jeff puts on a clear rain jacket and picks up a prop axe.

Please, God, don't let this traumatize my kid, Steve thinks.

Anna, thankfully, doesn't get scared. When Jeff brings the axe down, again and again, Steve's weirdo daughter fucking smiles. And giggles. It's kind of cute, actually.

When the song ends, she turns back to Steve.

"That's Eddie onstage," Steve says, and saying it, somehow, makes it real.

"I thought so!" Anna says, and she turns back to watch the show. Steve puts an arm around her waist so she doesn't fall off his lap when she bangs her head to the music.

The rest of the songs, in Steve's opinion, are better than the opening song. They're more melodic, which Steve can definitely get behind, and each of them has a gimmick onstage, all based off of various horror movies. It's ridiculous, but also really, really cool.

And Eddie, onstage, because it is the same guy who flirted with him and was so sweet to Anna yesterday, is really, really hot.

Steve has never had a thing for guitarists before. He's never had a thing for musicians before. Hell, until a year ago, he didn't realize he had a thing for men.

Eddie is. Uh. Yeah. Really doing it for him.

Steve doesn't know whether it's his enthusiasm, or the way he moves, or seeing his hair tied up, or the fucking dress pants and suspenders, or just his hands, but he does know he has to get himself in check because this is an all ages show and he's here with his daughter.

He already knows he can't add these songs to his grading playlist, not when they're accompanied by visuals of Eddie playing his guitar.

Sweet Jesus.

"Alright, that's our set!" Eddie says. "Thanks, y'all, for sticking around for us, and let's give it up for the next act!"

The crowd, including Anna and Steve, cheer as they exit and the lights go up.

Steve fishes his phone out of his pocket, fully intending to add Eddie's number to his contacts, and is greeted by not one, not two, but sixteen missed calls from Dustin Henderson.

Naturally, Steve calls him back. "Who died?"

"What the fuck?" Dustin yells, and Steve just puts the phone on speaker to save the rest of his hearing. "Did Eddie fucking Munson just personally thank you from the stage?"

"Swear jar, Uncle Dusty!" Anna says.

"Sorry," Dustin says. "But Steve. Answers. Now."

"How do you even-"

"Instagram live. Is Eddie the guy you were telling me about yesterday?"

Steve takes his phone off speaker. Prior experience tells him that this conversation has a less than zero chance of staying PG, nevermind PG-13.

"Yeah," Steve says. "He is."

"The one who flirted with you, and you forgot to ask for his number."

"Well, I have it now."

"What?" Dustin shrieks, and Steve is incredibly thankful that he didn't take his earplugs out.

"He left me his number on the seat."

"Text him."

"I was going to, until I saw that you called me sixteen times."

"Jesus Christ, Eddie Munson was flirting with you."

Steve rolls his eyes and hands a pack of gummy bears to Anna when she taps his arm. "He could have just been nice. I don't even know if he's into guys."

"Have you looked at him?"

"Wow, Dustybuns, I didn't know you were homophobic."

"I think it's the complete opposite of homophobic to try to get you laid."

"Hanging up!" Steve shouts because a part of him will never see Dustin as any older than thirteen, and no thirteen year old should ever say that.

"Text-"

Steve hangs up the call. "Can I have a gummy bear?"

"No," Anna says, mouth full, in her seat, legs swinging.

"I bought them."

She shrugs. "You gave them to me. Mine now."

Steve stares. She stares right back.

He sighs and opens a new pack of gummy bears.

With his mouth full of sweet Haribo corpses, Steve takes out the note and adds Eddie to his contacts. Before he can overthink it, he sends him a message:

I guess I don't have to ask you what you do for a living. Just so we're even on that front, I'm a teacher, and Anna's full time job is preschool.

He tucks his phone back into his pocket and focuses on making this a good experience for Anna, who somehow wormed her way into a conversation with the intimidating-looking couple sitting next to her.

Because it's totally not like a literal rockstar is going to text him back. Right?

Part 3!!

[thewaspsnestinyourattic]

damn tma fans really do just wanna be asked which eldritch fear god they'd give their soul to, huh? like, me too, but still. I feel as though we may have taken the wrong messaging from this show.

[horsemeatluvr23]

hermitcraft s10 is just a documentation of the hermits descent into madness. wdym xisuma spent an hour on his hands and knees recording himself howling like a wolf ??

[nat-20s]

LOVE that because of Catherine Tate's willingness to just keep coming back to Doctor Who there's now been THREE separate occasions that amount to

The Doctor: oh god oh fuck im so alone

Donna materializing out of the ether: hey you wanna get SILLAAAYYY

The Doctor: YEEEAAAAAAHHHHH

[hpysprkl]

Ready at a minute's notice.

Loved @gardening--tools headcanon about Preston having a Minutemen tat so I gave him one here.

[koenigami]

+18 wriothesley's filthy mouth can’t call you a dirty slut without putting "my" in front of it. he can’t hook his thumb into your mouth and make you suck on it without telling you what a sweet cock hungry whore you are for him. there's a healthy balance between his possessive and degrading words; between love and humiliation. and it just leaves you a dizzy mess. he adores your blown wide eyes when you stare up at him with his hand around your throat. he can clearly discern the little hearts in them when he offers you a toothy grin, his hips relentlessly humping against yours, skin slapping against skin, and your juices spraying all over the sheets and his abdomen. "there, huh? fuck, sweetheart, look at the mess you've made. my dirty girl, can feel that pretty pussy of yours squeezing me so tight. think you can come again? milk my cock while i fill you up, huh? you like that, don't you? yeah, 'course you do, sweet girl."

[o-birdseed-o]

💚💙

[viennacherries]

constantly oscillating between writing a few paragraphs of my own fic and then refreshing ao3 to see if anyone else is writing hot shit too

[gladerscake]

Who is you favourite maze runner character?

me since 2018:

[genshin-impact-updates]

Happy Birthday, Hu Tao!

Eek! Who just tapped my shoulder, was it a ghost? ...Wah!

Haha, was I convincing? You'll have to do more than that to scare me~

But I like the way you think, my dear friend! As the birthday girl, of course I'd have some surprises up my sleeve for our buddies.

Why don't you decide who'll be receiving our next little "gift"?

[blackkatdraws]

My obsession is just Stanley doing the most random things ever.

Like, not even the fanart Stanley— I meant the actual in-game model Stanley. That guy.

I wanna see him dance, I wanna see him holding a weapon, I wanna see him go to the backrooms, I wanna see him do something.

I'm starting to see why Narrator was so fixated on this guy...

[womaninwinter]

according to TWS, Bobby comes up to Quill's shoulder, Kat's chest and Lockwood's errrrr. Let's say waistline. I realise there's some exaggeration here, but this does imply that Lockwood's a good two feet taller than Quill. No wonder he's pissy.

Also. Lockwood mentions he was a lot smaller than Quill when they faced each other in the fencing tournament, so his height basically doubled when he hit puberty. Fascinating

[ace-dodo]

Bradley uppercrust III being able to get everything he wants in his life except for who he loves

[my-cursed-brain]

Lilia Vanrouge the character ever.

Like . . . He's a fairy. He's vampire/bat coded. He's a single father of 2. He's a former war general. He enjoys being cute. He's simultaneously a reflection and reverse of the good fairies from Sleeping Beauty because instead of three fairies taking care of one human child, it's one fairy taking care of his adopted human son, the fairy prince, and his friend's half fae half human grandson. His design screams pink goth. He's 700 years old. Taking care of kids has changed him for the better. He's horrendously bad at cooking. Malleus says that he's mentioned in NRC's textbooks. He cuts and dyes his own hair. He plays the bagpipes. One of his birthday cards has him wearing one pink shoe and one blue shoe like how Flora and Merryweather keep arguing over what color Aurora's dress should be. He's the one who got Malleus his tamagotchi. He unknowingly games with Idia. He's good at singing lullabies.

Lilia is constantly spinning on a microwave plate in my brain and I have so many thoughts about him.

[strawberrycowtime]

doodles!

closeups under the cut

[franzsiska]

it haunts me how the one and only person vash can have any sort of a two-way relationship with. is knives. he is the only one vash considers an equal, not someone that needs to be protected, or saved, or to walk on eggshells around. knives is the only one vash ever points a gun at with the intent to pull the trigger, and his expression there and his shaky hand gives away the degree of emotion he feels for his brother, it's the kind of thing he can never share with a human, because human beings break too easy.

knives is strong. so vash can hold him accountable for his actions, vash can express himself however he wants and not only would knives understand but also take it in a way a human never would or could.

knives is the only one in front of whom vash doesn't have to subdue himself. the only one with whom he does not feel like a deer in the headlights.