#but I fully admit this is because I like in fic that I can alternate between daqiang and damutou and Dongfang qingcang

[harocat]

I know the post-series Weibo posts aren’t exactly the most canon thing, but one thing I love about them is how silly Xiao Lanhua is in them. She’s so fully herself.

She’s trying every food in Lucheng on New Year’s (DFQC buys them all for her of course), and she’s being confused but entertained by the opera, and she’s drawing terrible art, and she’s back to sleeping in sometimes. Even if you don’t consider the weibo posts and just use the canon epilogue, there’s such a ‘XLH will be XLH vibe to it.’

It’s nice because we don’t get to see that much post goddess XLH where she’s not pretending to be someone she’s not. The trauma and the grief are inevitably going to make her a more serious person at times, but she was already heading down that path anyway. She’d learned to take a serious, measured view of things even before she ‘dies.’ She views her roles as Moon Queen and Goddess as something she is genuinely dedicated to.

But now we know that despite all that, at least once DFQC returns, she’s still able to be the light-hearted, indulgent, gremlin of a character she is meant to be. And that’s very important to me.

[milkcanned]

your disease

an alternate route where trafalgar law is effected by the feminization disease a little longer

ft. female!trafalgar law x afab!reader

switching, cunniIingus/oral, tribbing, heavily implied wlw/sapphic reader (duh??), ngl it gets right into the prawn

word count: 1215

a.n: i need her... him? so bad. self indulgent fic

Law honestly had no idea what to do in this situation. At all. How does a captain, stuck as the opposite gender, go about asking one of two of his only female crewmates about feminine urges. Feminine urges even as a doctor he could not have fully understood without having the body of a woman.

You seemed like the obvious choice to go to. He's seen you with girls before, right? Women stumbling to your cabin and promptly leaving a mess. Not to mention, leaving him completely dumbstruck and flustered, because how long have you been doing this and how good are you, exactly!?

Normally, he'd tell you off, like any other time he'd catch a crewmate sneaking in strangers for a quick fuck. But he didn't. And he never knew why.

Until now.

He's standing in front of the door to your room, hesitating to knock on the door. It's been a day after the fight and he's still, well, stuck as a woman. He's frustrated. Angry. Embarrassed. What the fuck is happening!?

He lets out a sigh and musters up a solid three knocks. A beat goes, and then your door creaks open. And wow, was there a sight to see. Law, in all his —her— glory, looking down at you with a slight tint of red on her cheeks. She's beautiful, and you hadn't realized until she was right in front of you. Her tattoos look delicate on her skin, her supple chest straining against the white tank top she adorns.

"Captain! Can I help you?" You giggle, batting your eyes. You know she caught you staring. You don't care.

"You fuck women, don't you?" She spits monotonously at you. You nearly double over in laughter. "How forward! Let me take you out to dinner at least!" You smirk, leaning forward.

"Don't act dumb." God, Law's a bitchy girl isn't she? You grab her wrist and lead her into your room. "Okay, yeah. So what." You huff, eyeing your captain.

"I," Law starts, a little embarrassed. "You.. Show me." Your eyes shoot out, and you manage to sputter a 'WHAT!' as you flop on your bed.

"You heard me!" She barks, arms crossed as she advances towards you. "The fuck Law!? You think because you're a woman now that you can be some girl pervert?" You accuse her, pointing a finger into her chest.

"No! I just," She's defeated. There's really not an excuse. Since she's been turned, though, she's felt so frustrated and angry. You can read her like a book.

"Oh."

You smirk, grabbing her wrist and leading her onto your bed. "I'll treat you. Get against my pillows." She complies, still a little embarrassed to be in this situation.

"Could you take off your pants?" She nods, wiggling out of her jeans, which takes some effort. Damn. Your breath hitches as you come face to face with her pussy. "No undies huh?" ... "No shit. My boxers are too big at the moment." She rolls her eyes. Yeah, that's still Law all right.

You bring a finger up to her clit to test how sensitive she is, starting to rub slowly. "How's that feel? You've never felt this before, huh." Law's thighs attempt to close at the feeling of your finger, but you hold them open. "Feels nice." She admits.

You smile, lowering your head to lick a stripe along her slit. You feel her shudder as you put her legs over your shoulders. She looks down at you with half-lidded eyes, already looking absolutely debauched. You dive in, pressing sloppy kisses to her cunt and tracing her hole with your index finger. "Oh, fuck." She groans, clutching the sheets when you slip a finger into her pussy.

"And, I bet it feels really good when I do this, right?" You start to curl your finger inwards, looking for that spongy spot that makes girls squeal. "This is the G-spot, but I'm sure you already knew that." You mumble, diving back into her pussy. You slip another finger in and start to go in and out with the rhythm of your slurping. "Don't you dare stop that." Law barks, groaning at every little touch on that special spot. You mumble a mhmm, which sends vibrations right through her core. "Oh, I'm." She pants, "Something's.. I'm gonna come." You vocalize another approving mumble, giving her a shock of pleasure. You speed up your fingers plunging inside her, and circle your tongue around her clit.

You feel her spasm around your fingers, and are met with a surprise when she drenches your face. You pull away from her pussy and slow down your fingers, gradually bringing her down. "Wow."

"I did not know I would do that." Law admits, still flustered from her orgasm. You sit up to wriggle out of your own pants. "No shit." You crawl over to her, straddling her hips. You reach out an arm to tug on her tank top, signaling that you want it off. She brings it over her torso and you're breathless. You have never really taken a chance to admire Law's tattoos until now. Every intricate line around the curves of her breasts.

You move back a little to bring one of her legs spread to the side, angling your pussy over hers. You look at her through your lashes, a silent gesture to see how she feels. She gives you a slow blink back, giving you the go ahead. You grind down onto her pussy, finding a rhythm as you reach up to fondle one of her tattooed breasts. "Mm, fuck." You moan, picking up pace a bit and alternating angles to rub against her cunt.

You're absolutely taken aback when, in the midst of your grinding, she props herself up onto her elbows to slide her hands under your shirt. "Law!" You moan, still slotting your slits against each other's. She tears off your shirt and latches onto your nipple, swirling her tongue around it as you rut against her insatiably. "I'm," huff "I'm supposed to be treating you!" you spit out, whining when your clit catches along hers. "Mmf." Is all she says back, with those dark lidded eyes.

She bucks her hips up to meet yours, both rutting against each other now in the race for orgasmic bliss. She releases your nipple with a pop, letting out a deep groan. "I'm not gonna make it much longer. You're a damn good fuck." She sighs, grinding up against you. "Me neither!" You moan, leaning forward to pant. She lurches her head towards you, bringing you into a sloppy kiss. Your rutting becomes choppy as you feel yourself coming, moaning into Law's mouth. She follows shortly after, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you slotted against her pussy. "Oh, fuck."

You crawl off of her to head to your bathroom, dampening a cloth with water to clean the two of you up.

But when you come back into your room, you're not met with the nude girl you just fucked. No, you're met with the nude guy you technically just fucked. Your fucking captain. And he's met with one of his crewmates. Post-orgasm clarity hit the two of you hard, apparently.

"So, let's not talk about this again?"

"Yeah. Good idea."

[pillow-princess-diaries]

𝚆𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚐𝚎𝚛!𝙰𝚝𝚜𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚒 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜…

Scenario:- what it’s like to get your guts rearranged by a particular weretiger~

Pairing:- weretiger!Atsushi x gn!reader

Genre:- smut

Type:- headcanons

W/C:- a little over 1k

Tw:-MDNI !! mentions of cockwarming,mating press, full nelson?, oral (m and f giving and receiving),belly bulge, dry humping,deepthroating,tit sucking,nipple play, size kink?69, cum eating ,leash? ,atsushi is in heat and turns into his weretiger form. Also where genetalia are related both male and female alternatives are included!

A/N :- Hi there!! My Name’s cheese and this is my first smut fic!!! I hope you like it and I tagged it appropriately! Also just to clarify, this isn’t canon atsushi but like its supposed to be a more tiger-boy-esque version? But his weretiger form is pretty much the same as in the canon?? Idk if I’m making sense but I hope I am!

Also thanks to @diagonal-queen and @chuuyassluttychoker for giving me feedback and for encouraging me to try writing for this genre!

Weretiger atsushi who is adorable and clingy and so catlike on the daily. He loves rubbing up against you, headbutting you and nuzzling you because it gets his scent on you and marks you as his to all the cats in the area.

Weretiger atsushi who gets even clingier during his heat cycles but doest tell you he’s in heat ,when asked about it he just says he missed you. “But atsushi i was here the entire time?” “But you weren’t in my arms~”

Weretiger atsushi who gets caught humping your pillow as he moans out your name,his hips craving for some kind of contact,his dick painfully hard.

weretiger atsushi who vehemently denies that he was humping your pillow.he would neverrrr.but the moment you look down at his crotch you notice the little tent that has formed.

Weretiger Atsushi,who goes red as you palm his boner through his clothes,your fingers tantalizingly tracing its outline.

Weretiger atsushi who admits to your allegations and begs that you let him fuck you.He looks at your hand basically petting his clothed cock and ask him to get on his knees and beg harder~

Weretiger atsushi who gets embarrassed and goes red but the moment you move your fingers over the now-wet material of his pants he throws his ego to the side,getting on his knees and begging you to let him have his sweet release he looks up at you and bows down touching the ground.

Weretiger atsushi who once you agree to let him fuck you,throws you over his shoulder and rushes to your bedroom.

Weretiger atsushi who throws you on the bed (not hard enough to hurt you!) and frantically strips till he’s fully naked and climbs on top of you.

Weretiger atsushi whose dick has gotten bigger now that he’s in his weretiger form,and is now leaking so much precum it’s embarrassing.

Weretiger atsushi who asks you for permission to take control and once he receives a breathy ‘yes’ literally rips off your clothes and has to keep his mouth from watering as he see your wet little cunt./cock

Weretiger atsushi who runs a singular clawed finger along your folds,gently collecting as much of you’re arousal as he can and licking it off his fingers,savouring your taste (alternatively he’ll pump your little erection until your cream covers his hands,and then he’ll eat it out if the palms of his hands like its the sweetest syrup known to mankindd)

Weretiger atsushi who goes feral as he lowers himself to be at eye level with your pretty little pussy/cock. Who eats you out like he’s been starving for dayssss,his ridged tongue moving softly enough not to hurt you and just enough to make you feel more things than a ribbed condom ever could,sucking on your clit like its a goddam lollipop (Alternatively he’ll wrap his mouth around your length taking it all in and sucking. Bobbing his head as he laps up your cum and precum and runs his tongue along your slit,kissing your tip before he finishes)

Weretiger atsushi who makes you come on his tongue at least two times before he actually fucks you,who wants to milk you for all your worth.

Weretiger atsushi who finally raised himself from your pussy/dick to look at your face,pure pleasure being the only thing he sees.

Weretiger atsushi who finally lines himself up with your pretty little hole, his cock begging to be squeezed by your walls and coated in your cum.

Weretiger atsushi who fucks you in missionary just because he wants to see your adorable face contort in pleasure, moaning,screaming and calling his name.

Weretiger atsushi who despite always going slow and sweet,lubes up his cock and slams into you so hard the bed hits the wall. He waits a while,buried to the hilt as he feels you adjusting to his throbbing length . The feeling of your walls hugging him driving him insanee.

Weretiger atsushi who cums right into you just from that and locks you in a mating press,his balls slapping against your ass as he moves at an inhuman speed.

Weretiger atsushi who fucks you so hard your bed creaks and hits the wall,leaving a small indentation on where the headboard hit it over and over.

Weretiger atsushi who lets you collar him and pull him closer by a leash to kiss you while he fuck you senseless.

Weretiger atsushi who leaves beautiful love bites and hickies all across your chest and collar bones. Who loves marking you up and claiming you as his.

Weretiger atsushi who loves your tits no matter the size,he just loves them. Sucking on them while he ruts into you,watching as they bounce while he fucks you so good you wont be able to walk for days.who loves squeezing your hardened nipples to hear you moan out in both pain and pleasure.

Weretiger atsushi who’s claws leave big blue bruises and shallow claw marks along your hips,who loves to see your juices decorate your tummy and his base when you squirt or when he cums on your stomach.

Weretiger atsushi who loves running his tongue up and down your stomach to collect all his spilled semen and your messy little syrup,who puts his tongue out to show you how he’s taking yours and his loads in like the good little kitten he is.

Weretiger atsushi who loves when you suck him off,who wouldn't mind 69ing if it meant he could feel your mouth around his dick while he feasted on you. Who loves deepthroating you and hearing you gag on his larger-than-usual cock. Who cums down your throat and loves to feel the vibrations of the moans you let out as his hot,sticky cum fills your mouth and flows down your throat. Who thrusts his hips into your mouth and directs your head perfectly ,although he doesn’t even have to because you already know how to pleasure him so well.

Weretiger atsushi who would love the sight of you bouncing on his cock,riding him like the speedy steed he could be,who bucks his hips up into you when you slow down,eliciting a moan from you as feel him hit his your cervix/ g spot.

Weretiger atsushi who places a hand on your tummy just to feel his cock inside you(it drives him crazy.)

Weretiger atsushi who is strong enough to hold you off the ground and fuck you(i think it’s called full nelson?) who goes even more feral when he sees drops of his milky load fall out onto the floor which prompts him to fuck you harder.

and finally weretiger atsushi who goes so nuts at the thought of you filled to the brim with his cum that when he’s cleaning you up,he detransforms and fucks his cum deeper into you with his lithe fingers,making sure to hit a few of your sweet-spots just to make you feel good.

and weretiger atsushi who takes such good care of you after he’s done. Giving you a bath,making sure you take your birth control pills and who holds you close as you both fall asleep afterwards. He may ask for you to cockwarm him as a joke but if youre fully serious about it and actually want to do it,he certainly wouldnt be against it.

Weretiger atsushi who’s your sweet and loving tiger boy who can get a little wild but its finee,it’s not like you dont like it so whats the harm in indulging him~(and yourself)

Taglist (open) :- @diagonal-queen

All rights reserved © 2023 pillow-princess-diaries. Please do not repost, modify or claim as yours.Reblogs and Comments Greatly Appreciated!

[brbsoulnomming]

WHERE NOBODY KNOWS YOUR NAME

For: @sharpbutsoft

Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: Teen

Wordcount: 14.9k

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, mention of alcohol and financial exploitation of child stars

Tags: Famous Steve Harrington, Bartender Eddie Munson, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Happy Ending, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Snapshots

Summary: A drop dead gorgeous man walks into The Hideout one night while Eddie's bartending, and Eddie's absolutely determined to flirt with him. What follows is snapshots of the two of them growing closer and closer, all while Eddie's absolutely oblivious to the fact that Steve's secretly one half of the famous pop duo Scoops Troop.

This fic is a part of the @steddieholidayexchange

-----

The prettiest man that Eddie has ever seen walks through the door of the Hideout, and Eddie damn near drops the glass he was rinsing out. It's not like their town's small enough that Eddie could actually recognize everyone in it, and the Hideout gets enough business that Eddie doesn't know everyone who comes in, but still, he was not expecting to get hit in the face with that kind of handsome on his shift tonight.

Sure, the nearby resort is a particular favorite among the wealthy elite - Eddie even heard there was one douchebag pop singer who booked the entire place for two weeks in the spring, apparently just so he wouldn't have to associate with any other guests - but they usually stay on the resort. It's rare for any of them to venture out into the town itself.

Pretty boy is wearing a dark blue polo with Hawkins Hope in Action stitched in yellow across his shirt pocket, which Eddie definitely does not notice purely because he's admiring the way it stretches across his chest. He takes an empty seat at the bar, pushing one hand through his hair as he scans the chalkboard specials they've got on display.

"You think it's as soft as it looks?" Chrissy asks, nudging him with her hip as she joins him in absolutely not just staring at the guy from the backroom.

He huffs out a little laugh. "I think you've got a better chance at me than figuring that out, Chris."

Still, he's fully prepared to head out there and try on at least a little bit of charm, until Jeff comes up next to them.

"I think Chrissy should head out there for a while," he says.

Eddie turns to fix him with a betrayed look. "What? Come on, man, I said Chrissy had a better chance, not that I had no chance."

Jeff nods towards the guy. "Look at him, he's all on edge."

And it's true - the guy's perched on the bar stool like he expects to have to bolt at any minute, and he's started to hunch in on himself like he's trying to take up as little space as possible.

It's kind of sad, actually, which unfortunately doesn't make him any less cute.

"So?" Eddie asks.

"So you know I love you, man, but you can be kind of a lot," Jeff says apologetically.

Eddie gasps, whirling to face Chrissy. "Can you believe this?"

Her nose is a little crinkled, lips turned down the way she does when there's a hard truth she doesn't want to tell him. "You're not always the most soothing presence," she admits.

He lurches back dramatically, hand over his heart. "Complete and utter betrayal, from my own best friends no less."

Jeff pats him on the shoulder. "You'll get over it."

"You can talk to him next time," Chrissy offers.

Which, considering pretty boy is probably staying at the resort and not going to come back, is small consolation.

But, well. He's probably staying at the resort and not coming back, so Eddie guesses he really isn't losing out on much by not getting to talk to him.

At least he can enjoy the eye candy.

He keeps an eye on them at first, only partially because of said eye candy - Chrissy can handle herself, but if the guy is going to be the typical resort douche, Eddie won't hesitate to come back her up. Pretty boy starts to relax a little the longer he's there, though, and Chrissy's doing the genuine smile she does when she has a good customer, so he doesn't worry about it.

By the time the guy leaves, Eddie's heard the sound of them laughing a few times.

"His laugh is just as pretty as the rest of him," Eddie sighs to Chrissy as they watch him leave.

"His name is Steve," Chrissy replies. "He works for that charity that's booked the resort this weekend for a fundraising event."

"That explains what he was doing here," Eddie jokes. "I knew we wouldn't see a resort guest slumming it at the Hideout."

Chrissy rolls her eyes at him, but she doesn't disagree. "They work with kids in the foster care system," she says mildly. "They put on camps and events and things for the kids to come to, do fundraising to get money to support them. He spends most of his time with the kids.”

Eddie groans. “No, come on, that's not fair,” he whines. “Handsome and a pretty laugh and he works for a charity and it's for foster kids and he's likes spending time with them? He's gotta have some flaws. Maybe he's actually terrible with kids, maybe they all hate him.”

Chrissy giggles. “Maybe he leaves his wet towels all over the floor.”

Eddie nods. “Maybe he sings off key in the shower and it's awful and he won't stop.”

Chrissy gives him a little shove. “Well, Steve says they've booked the resort for a few camps and events throughout the rest of the year, so you'll have plenty of time to find out.”

“If he comes back,” Eddie points out.

“Oh, I have a feeling he'll come back,” she replies.

—

Steve comes back.

It's just him behind the bar tonight, with Gareth and Grant back in the kitchen, so Eddie spends a moment quietly collecting himself before he heads over.

Eddie shoots him a smile. "Hi."

"Hey," Steve returns, smiling at him in return - though it seems practiced, nothing like the soft, warm smile Eddie'd seen him give Chrissy when he left the other night.

Ouch.

"Chrissy's not working tonight," Eddie says, trying not to let his disappointment show.

Steve's face scrunches in confusion, a little furrow between his brow that Eddie has the immediate urge to reach out to try to smooth with his thumb.

What is wrong with him? He's usually way better at not letting customers get under his skin.

"Thanks for telling me?" Steve says, the end of the sentence raised up in a question like he's not quite sure he's giving the correct response.

"Just thought I'd let you know, in case you came back in hoping to see her again," Eddie says.

Steve's expression smooths out. "Oh. Nah, I just really liked the… atmosphere…"

He trails off, clearly aware of how what he's saying sounds, but Eddie makes a point of scanning around the bar anyway - it isn't empty, but it's not exactly crowded, either, occupied mostly by small groups who stick to themselves or solo patrons who are more interested in their drinks than engaging in conversation with other customers.

No one's paying the slightest bit of attention to them.

He cocks an eyebrow as he looks back at Steve, and now the smile he gets is a little less practiced, a little more genuinely pleased - maybe even a little teasing.

"Exactly," Steve agrees. "What's not to like about a place where nobody knows your name?

Eddie barks out a little laugh. "Not nobody," he returns. "It's Steve, right? I'm Eddie. What can I get you?"

He calls Steve's order of onion rings back to Gareth, then grabs a glass to get his beer.

"So, Chrissy said you work with the charity that rented out the resort?" he asks. "What do you do for them?"

Steve lights up a little at the question, which, unfortunately, makes him even prettier.

"I'm the activities director," Steve replies.

Eddie raises his eyebrows as he sets Steve's beer in front of him, inviting him to continue.

“I plan all the stuff for the kids to do at camp,” Steve clarifies.

His eyebrows go even higher. “That sounds exhausting.”

Steve huffs out a little laugh. “Sometimes,” he admits. “But I don't, like, personally do all of them. Some of the other staff will take lead on things that interest them - like Nancy does journalism and writing workshops, and Lucas picked up basketball, Jon does photography, and Robin's doing film watching and analysis. We actually do a lot of partnerships, too, get people to come in and do guest spots leading activities for like a week.”

Right, Eddie's pretty sure he heard that Hawkins Hope was a celebrity sponsored charity. Makes sense why they're able to afford using the resort for things.

“So what do you take lead on, then?” Eddie asks, mentally hi-fiving himself for finding an effortless way to ask Steve about his interests.

He's pretty sure it doesn't go unnoticed, because Steve blinks at him for a moment before he gives him just a little bit of a smirk.

It's a good look on him, though, so Eddie doesn't mind one bit.

“Swimming,” Steve replies. “Mostly lifeguarding, if we're somewhere on the water, and I do lessons. Baseball in the summer. Ice skating in the winter. Music, sometimes. Cooking. I'll pretty much fill in whenever I need to.”

Eddie's not surprised that the majority of those were sports, but it does mean he flounders a little bit in the next step of his plan - find a common interest and get his flirt on. He's a decent enough cook, but it's not exactly something he does for fun. Which means he's got one option left, and he latches onto it eagerly.

“What kind of music?” he asks.

Steve watches him for a moment, like he's waiting for the punchline. Or waiting to be judged, maybe - maybe the guy only likes Top 40s and is used to being looked down on from guys wearing Dio t-shirts.

And all right, Eddie might judge him a little - but only teasingly, and only if he knew him better. So he just waits, hoping he looks as genuine as he means to.

“I'm not picky,” Steve says finally. “I can find the merit in just about anything. It's not about the genre to me - it's about how the song makes you feel, if you can connect with the lyrics or if the music stirs some kind of emotion in you that you didn't even know was there.”

Oh.

“I get that,” Eddie says.

“Yeah?” Steve asks.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees. “Like - it's not what I usually listen to, and it's not what people expect, but my mom loved Bluegrass and country. I hear it now and it makes me think of her. I still end up singing Hazel Dickens or Loretta Lynn when I clean the kitchen, makes me feel like she's there with me.”

And there's that soft, warm smile that Eddie'd briefly seen him give Chrissy - only now it's even worse because it's directed at him, and it keeps lingering.

“Yeah,” Steve says again, but this time it sounds like you really do get it.

“So, it, uh, sounds like you like what you do,” Eddie says.

“I love what I do,” Steve agrees. “What about you?”

Eddie shrugs. “Can't complain. I get a lot of freedom here, actually. I'm the one that comes up with most of the drinks on our specials list.”

That's usually the most he goes into it, but Steve's still looking at him, so much less closed off than he was when he first came in, and he leans in like he's interested.

So when Steve asks him to tell him more about it, Eddie does. How it's not what he thought he'd be doing after high school, but then, he hadn't really given a lot of thought to much of anything after high school while he was still there, too busy just trying to graduate. How he likes the people he works with and the Hideout itself, how much fun it is coming up with his own drinks, how he's gotten to the point where he can figure out the best drink for someone before they even know what it is themselves.

And all right, he'd maybe been bragging a little, maybe said that with just a little bit of a cocky smirk to see the reaction he gets, but he's still a little bit surprised when Steve picks up on it and gives it back.

“Yeah?” Steve asks. “Do me, then.”

Eddie smiles at him, pleased. “What's the first cocktail you order when you go somewhere new?”

“House special,” Steve replies immediately, shooting him a little smirk.

Eddie gives him a look.

“It's true!” Steve insists. “I can get an old fashioned or a margarita anywhere, but the house special is usually something unique.”

Eddie considers that. “What's your go to drink if you're making yourself something at home?”

“Lemon drop,” Steve says. “They're my best friend's favorite, I learned how to make them for her. It's the only drink I can pull off that isn't just popping a can of beer or pouring a glass of wine.”

Eddie hums. He already knows Steve's taste in beers, so - “Red or white wine?”

“White in the summer, red in the winter,” Steve replies.

“Whiskey or tequila?”

“Whiskey.”

“Apple cider or hot chocolate?”

“Apple cider.”

Eddie manages to fire off questions like that for a while, and Steve even plays along when he asks him something that clearly has little to do with his drink preferences - though Eddie is absolutely ready to spin a tale about how it's vital to know if someone is a summer or a winter person for flavor choices, and being a romance or a horror fan will tell him how adventurous they are if Steve questions it.

Steve doesn't call him on it, though he does raise one eyebrow and give him a little smirk at each one, which leads to Eddie dropping into his explanation, anyway.

He wants someone to appreciate his brilliance.

It makes Steve laugh, warm and a little surprised, like he hadn't been expecting it. “Does that excuse work?”

“I don't know,” Eddie admits. “I haven't tried it on anyone else. What do you think?”

Steve hums, eying Eddie up and down in a way that, ridiculously, makes Eddie want to hide behind his hair.

“Yeah,” Steve says. “I could see it working. Depends on how good your drink ends up being.”

That gets Eddie back on more confident ground, and he points dramatically at him. “Prepare to be wowed.”

Steve's an autumn person who likes apple cider, whiskey, and action films, so Eddie makes him a spin on a whiskey highball with ginger ale, apple juice, and cinnamon simple syrup.

Steve takes one sip and immediately looks delighted. It's far from the first time that Eddie's gotten that reaction, but coming from Steve, well.

Eddie doesn't want to say that it makes his whole week, but it kind of makes his whole week.

“This is amazing,” Steve says. “You do this all the time?”

“Eh, just when I feel like showing off,” Eddie finds himself saying, which is true but is definitely not what he wanted to admit to.

Steve's finally looking reasonably relaxed, though, so he can't bring himself to regret it.

“I hope you know you've set yourself up for having to do this every time I come in,” Steve tells him.

Eddie grins. “I'm holding you to that. Better not see you getting drinks from one of the other bartenders here,” he teases.

He's joking - really, he is - but when Steve laughs and agrees, well.

Okay, maybe he kind of means it.

—

It's Eddie's day off, but he's at the Hideout anyway.

He'd feel more pathetic about that if it weren't for the fact that it's Jeff and Gareth's night off, too, and they're also at the Hideout.

It's a slower night, so they're just sitting at the bar drinking beer and heckling Grant while the regulars ignore them and their antics. Or, well, he and Gareth are heckling Grant - Jeff is shifting back and forth between taking their side and taking Grant's, claiming neutrality with a gleam in his eyes that says he knows exactly what he's doing.

Even though he's not working, Eddie still looks up on instinct when the door opens - and then grins when he recognizes Steve.

He flings himself around the other side of the bar, ignoring Jeff and Gareth's surprised exclamations, and very heroically manages to not immediately wave Steve over. He plans to wait until Steve's come to sit at the far corner of the bar, then slide on up to him, but - Steve sees him and immediately makes a beeline to grab a seat in front of him.

Oh.

“Hey, Eddie,” Steve greets with a smile.

“Hey, Steve, what can I get you?” Eddie asks.

“I don't know.” Steve raises an eyebrow at him, expression almost playful. “You're the expert, right? What can you get me?”

“What is happening right now?” Gareth asks, immediately squashing the little thrill Eddie'd gotten at Steve's words.

“What's happening right now is that I'm trying to serve an actual paying customer, so why don't you two go find a table to sit at and shoo,” Eddie grumbles at him.

“Come on, Gar, let's quit bothering Eddie,” Jeff says, pushing away from the bar and tugging Gareth with him.

Fuck, Jeff is Eddie's favorite forever, he's going to owe him -

“Eddie's apparently decided to throw in a little free labor for us tonight,” Jeff calls back as they saunter off towards an open table.

Never mind, Eddie hates him.

Steve's brow furrows, and he looks up at Eddie expectantly.

“It's my night off,” Eddie admits.

“Eddie!” Steve chides.

“It's just one drink,” Eddie protests.

Steve rolls his eyes at him. “Uh-huh. What if I wanted more than one drink, were you going to hang out here all night?”

“Maybe,” Eddie grumbles.

Steve laughs at him, but it's soft and - well. It might just be Eddie's wishful thinking, but it sounds almost fond. “Go hang out with your friends. You can get me next time.”

Eddie sulks for a moment - like they're friends, like Steve is scolding him over a stupid decision and Eddie's whining at him about how it totally makes sense, really.

Wait.

“Come sit at the table with us,” Eddie says. “I can give you recommendations on what to order.”

Steve hesitates. “Your friends won't mind?”

“Nah. They love heckling me, so I'm sure they'll get a kick out of it. Come on, it'll be fun.”

Despite his words, Eddie's actually a little nervous that Steve won't get along with Jeff and Gareth, or that the tense, rigid way Steve had held himself when he first came to the bar will come back, but by the time Steve's two drinks in, he's folded almost seamlessly in with the three of them.

Jeff and Steve like the same baseball team, apparently, and he gets Gareth talking about ice skating in a way that makes him light up - a way that might make Eddie a little jealous, if Steve didn't keep catching Eddie's eyes and smiling at him.

Steve even gets a couple of their Lord of the Rings jokes, though he admits he hasn't read the books himself, just picked up on some things from the kids he used to babysit. The way he talks about this Dustin kid makes him sound more like a little brother than anything else, and it's really sweet.

Shit, he's probably not terrible with the kids. Maybe Eddie better hold out hope for the wet towels or the terrible shower singing.

It's probably pretty damn late when Eddie hears the door open, and glances over. The man walking in is unfamiliar, but he's looking around the bar with a sense of purpose that makes Eddie grimace.

“We're all up to date on our liquor license and everything, right?” Eddie asks in a low voice.

Jeff frowns at him. “Of course. Why?”

“Check your ten o'clock,” Eddie says, purposefully adding in a little flair like he's a spy operative keeping an eye out for the enemy. “He's just screaming off duty cop.”

Both Jeff and Gareth crane their heads to look, leaving Eddie to sigh internally, but Steve plays along, tipping his head in towards Eddie like they're sharing a moment.

Steve's face is so close to his that he can feel the soft puff of air on his cheek when he breathes out, can see the whites of his eyes as his gaze flicks towards the door. Then he grins, and Eddie can see the way it makes his eyes crinkle at the corners.

Fuck, Eddie should be ridiculous around Steve more often.

“Retired cop, maybe,” Steve replies. “He's here for me. I, uh. I must have missed my curfew.”

Eddie looks back over at the guy, who must have spotted Steve, because he's making his way towards them.

“You still have a curfew?” Eddie teases.

“Shut up,” Steve says, but his smile hasn't faded.

“No, it's cute,” Eddie says. And honestly - it is. “Your dad is your ride when you've had a few too many to drink?”

Steve's eyes darken briefly. “My dad's an asshole,” he mutters, something cracked and bitter in his tone that Eddie's pretty sure wouldn't be there if Steve was entirely sober. “He wouldn't be caught anywhere near somewhere like this, or me in general.”

Well, shit, leave it to Eddie to open his mouth and accidentally step in it.

“Hey,” Eddie says, bumping his shoulder against Steve's. “Mine, too. Fuck ‘em, right? We're better off without them.”

“Better off without who?” Retired Cop asks as he stops in front of their table.

“Our terrible, horrible, no good, very bad fathers,” Eddie replies immediately, shooting Retired Cop what he hopes is a very charming grin.

It must be, considering Steve is back to smiling, and now he's looking at Eddie all soft and pleased.

Retired Cop grunts in what Eddie is going to optimistically assume is agreement.

“Hey, Hopper,” Steve greets. “This is Eddie, Jeff, and Gareth. Hopper's the head of security for Hawkins Heroes.”

“Among other things,” Hopper comments drily.

Eddie's going to guess those other things include picking up wayward activity directors when they stay out too late.

Steve looks a little abashed. “Sorry, lost track of time.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hopper grumbles. “Get your shit and let's get going.”

“Thanks for letting me hang out with you guys,” Steve tells them.

“You kidding?” Jeff asks. “It was great, man.”

“Come back any time,” Gareth agrees.

“I'll have a new drink ready for you,” Eddie promises.

Somewhat foolishly, considering he knows that Jeff and Gareth are going to tease him about that, but the smile he gets flashed at him is well worth it.

“I still gotta settle the tab,” he hears Steve tell Hopper as they head out, but he's too distracted by Jeff and Gareth's smirks to think anything of it.

“Not a word,” Eddie threatens before either of them can say anything.

“Wouldn't dream of it,” Gareth replies, batting his eyelashes at him instead of saying anything.

“Just let me know when you have the drink ready,” Jeff agrees mildly. “We can call it Steve's Special.”

Gareth and Jeff fistbump each other while Eddie rolls his eyes and shoves himself up out of his chair.

He ignores their laughter as he heads over April, who's behind the register at the moment.

“What's my damage for the night?” he asks.

“Your friend already paid,” she tells him.

“Okay?” He frowns at her, a little too tipsy to make any kind of connection between his question and her answer. “I mean, I'm glad he didn't duck out on his tab and leave me stuck with it, but I'd still like to pay mine?”

She rolls her eyes. “No, you moron, he paid for all of you.”

Eddie gapes at her. “He what?”

April smirks at him. “Guy that good looking, and he picks up the tab for you and those two? I'd hang onto him.”

Eddie's pretty sure his cheeks are bright red. He covers it up by muttering, “Son of a bitch. I'll get him for this.”

—

Steve's already at the bar when Eddie arrives for his shift that night, which instantly makes him perk up.

His crush on the guy is probably a little bit out of control, but eh, that's future Eddie's problem. Tonight Eddie gets the pleasure of some very nice eye candy all night, on top of the security of knowing he's going to have an awesome interaction with at least one patron.

Steve's clearly been there at least a little while, since there's a half eaten plate of loaded fries and a beer in front of him, and he's chatting enthusiastically with Grant.

Well.

Maybe chatting is the wrong word for it, now that Eddie gets a closer look at them.

Steve's leaning in, one elbow braced on the bartop with his gaze focused intently on Grant, as if he was the only person in the room. He's saying something in what must be a low tone, considering Grant's leaning back in to hear him. And is that -

Yup, that's a faint pink flush to Grant's cheeks.

Eddie gapes.

"Is Steve flirting with Grant?" he hisses the moment he finds Chrissy.

Chrissy rolls her eyes. "They got into an argument about pick up lines. Grant said pick up lines are shitty and cliche and don't work, and Steve insisted it's not about them being lines, it's about delivery and intention."

"So they're… flirting to prove a point?"

Damn it, why didn't Eddie think of that?

Chrissy's smiling at him, that sweet little grin she gives him when she knows exactly what's going on in his head. "Why don't you go over there and tell Steve where you sit on the pick up line debate?"

Eddie hip checks her, but, well.

It's not a bad idea.

He does go over, if only because he wants to say hi before he actually starts working.

He hears Grant laughing as he gets closer, but it sounds a little strained.

"Hey," Steve says quietly. "I meant all of it, you know. I wouldn't have said anything I didn't think was true. Any girl would be lucky to have you. Or, uh, guy, if you swung that way."

"You're kind of making me wish I swung that way," Grant teases, but there's something sincerely appreciative in his voice that tells Eddie that they'd been talking about more than just an argument about pick up lines.

If Steve could stop being so kind to his friends, that would really help out Eddie's stupid heart.

He tells himself very firmly to absolutely not think into the fact that Steve's apparently okay with guys dating other guys.

Instead, he stalks up to the counter as Grant walks away, pointing accusingly at Steve.

“I caught you!” he informs him. “What, did you think you could hide it from me? That I wouldn't notice? You're in so much trouble.”

Eddie's not sure what he's expecting, but it isn't for Steve's expression to completely crumble. He sags in the chair for a moment, then Eddie watches him visibly pull himself together, straightening up and looking solemnly at Eddie.

“Okay,” Steve says, very quietly. “How do you want to do this?”

And that - completely deflates the wind in Eddie's sails.

“You're not like, actually in trouble, dude,” Eddie tells him. “I just can't believe you thought you could pay our tabs and we wouldn't realize it.”

Steve's brow furrows, then smooths out. “Oh!”

It's clearly a startled little realization, which immediately makes Eddie narrow his eyes.

“What did you think I was talking about?” he asks.

“I, uh. I guess I just wasn't sure what I did to upset you?”

Eddie considers that. It's possible - but Steve hadn't looked confused, he'd looked resigned. Like there was a secret that he was keeping, and he hadn't been expecting to be able to continue to keep it, and he was pretty sure Eddie knowing it wasn't going to be anything good. But what could he -

And then he remembers that he walked over in the middle of Steve flirting with another guy, and clearly implying that he was okay with guys dating other guys, and -

And the first thing that Eddie said was that he caught Steve and he was in big trouble.

Shit.

“It, uh,” Eddie starts, then stops, pausing to think about how he wants to say this. “There's a rainbow flag pinned up at the corner of the bar.”

Steve gives him a tiny smile. “I noticed,” he says softly. “It's one of the things that made me come back here.”

“Really?” Eddie asks, immediately derailed. “It was my idea to put it up. I wanted people to know the Hideout is a safe space, even if it doesn't look like it.”

“It worked,” Steve tells him. “You're a good guy, Eddie, that was a great thought.”

Eddie flushes, ducking his head for a moment before he determinedly gets this conversation back on track. “So, uh, I just wanted to make sure you knew that none of the staff here are going to hassle you no matter what way you swing. Especially not me.”

Steve looks at him for a long moment. “Especially not you?” he repeats.

Eddie swallows, then nods. “Yeah.”

Steve's quiet at first. Then, “Thanks, Eddie.”

Eddie nods again, letting the moment sit for a little bit. Then he shoots him a teasing little grin, tipping his head at the beer in front of Steve. “What you're really in trouble for is getting a drink from another bartender here.”

Steve smirks at him. “Oh, that's not mine. It's Robin's.”

“Robin?” Eddie asks.

“My best friend, the one who likes lemon drops? She came with me today, said she wanted to meet the guys who got me to stay out so late,” Steve replies.

Oh!

Eddie straightens up, looking around. “Where is she? I want to meet her.”

“She was going to the bathroom, but I think she got distracted on her way back,” Steve says drily. He nods over towards where Chrissy is talking animatedly with a girl he's never seen before. “So you might have to wait a bit on that.”

Chrissy's smiling in a way he hasn't seen her do in a long time, which immediately makes him like this Robin girl.

“Guess you're stuck with me until then,” Steve adds.

“Oh, no,” Eddie says, voice monotone. “However will I get over my disappointment.”

Steve laughs. “You can start by getting me a drink.”

Yeah, okay, Eddie guesses he can do that.

He's going to finish the night by making the best impression possible on Steve's best friend, though.

Even if his own best friend seems to have gotten there first.

—

It's D&D night the next time Steve shows up at the bar.

The other regulars are pretty used to it, by now, and seem content to let the D&D crews take over the back half of the bar, but Steve hasn't seen it before. He's not sure when he started thinking of Steve as a regular - can someone be a regular if he doesn't live here, even if he does seem to come in every time he's in town? - but that's beside the point.

D&D nights were Eddie's idea. He'd wanted to do something similar to what he did in high school, give them a safe place to be able to play - only this time, some place fun, where they'd be welcome as adults instead of laughed at for playing a "kid's game." Even the nights when he isn't playing or DMing, he has a lot of fun with coming up with campaign themed drinks.

It's stupid, but he's kind of nervous about what Steve thinks of it. It's not like anything's going to happen with Eddie's crush, but he enjoys it anyway, enjoys Steve's company. It's going to suck if Steve laughs at it.

Steve beelines for the corner of the bar where Eddie's at as soon as he sees him, which makes Eddie smile involuntarily, despite the clench in his stomach when he sees Steve staring intently at the group in the back.

"Is that Dungeons and Dragons?" Steve asks.

"You know D&D?" Eddie asks. His stomach is still clenching, but now it's in a very, very different way.

"Yeah," Steve replies, shooting him a little smile. "Some of my friends play it. We actually used to have it as an activity for the kids, but Mike and Will are at college and Erica had this huge project she needs to finish for school, so it's on hold now."

"Have you ever played?" Eddie asks.

"A couple of times," Steve replies. "I did, uh. The side characters? For the kids a few times. Do you play?"

"Yeah. I used to run a D&D club in high school, actually, and I started D&D night here."

"Dude, that's really cool," Steve says, so genuine that it makes Eddie want to hide behind his hair. "Oh, hey, I know it's kind of a lot to ask, but would you be interested in doing it for camp this week? Some of the kids coming have really missed it. We'd pay you for your time, of course."

Eddie opens his mouth, then closes it again. "You want to pay me to DM a D&D game for summer camp?"

"Yes?" Steve says, like he's not sure why Eddie's in a little bit of disbelief here. "Only it's October now, so not summer camp anymore."

Right, because that's the unbelievable part.

"You know what? Sure. Do you want a one shot, or a short campaign?" Eddie asks.

Steve's face scrunches a bit in confusion.

"How many days do you want me there?" Eddie clarifies.

"All of them?" Steve blurts out.

Eddie's eyes widen, and Steve's ears go a little pink.

"I mean, how many can you do?" Steve asks.

Eddie considers. He could use some extra cash, and he's really missed throwing himself into D&D - he actually thinks he has the perfect campaign, one he used leading up to Halloween back in high school. A few tweaks and he thinks it'll be perfect.

"How about four days, five hour sessions each? Is that too long for the kids?" Eddie asks.

Steve shakes his head. "Nah, I've seen them spend like ten hours playing before, five should be perfect. Come by the resort around noon tomorrow and I'll have the paperwork all ready for you?"

—

There's more security at the resort than Eddie remembers there being the handful of times that he's been there before.

Makes sense, he guesses, since there's more kids than adults there now. It'd probably look bad if the resort let just anyone onto the grounds and some of the kids got kidnapped or something. And if they've got celebrities coming in to get their good PR by volunteering, too, they've probably got to be at the top of their game.

Eddie must be on the approved list, though, because once he's shown his ID and proven who he is, he's given a “guest staff” badge, a map of the resort, and a list of which amenities he's allowed to use for the next week.

Nice. Steve hadn't mentioned that, but Eddie is definitely going to take advantage of it.

He's a little early to meet Steve, so he wanders around the inside of the resort instead, taking in everything.

Eventually he stumbles onto a lounge with a roaring fire and a massive plush sofa, occupied by a teenage girl and a bunch of textbooks.

“Can I help you?” she asks, for all the world like she's a busy executive behind a fancy desk and he's already wasting her time, instead of a teenager sprawled out on a couch doing her homework.

“I'm looking for Steve,” he says.

Her eyes narrow as she sits up. “Why?” There's an edge in her voice now, something a little bit protective.

That's kind of sweet, actually.

“I'm meeting him here about a temporary gig,” Eddie says. “Hi, I'm Eddie.”

Her expression shifts from wary to downright skeptical. “You're the DM who that hairbrain thinks will do a better job than me?”

Yeah, Eddie's taking back that sweet comment.

“You must be Erica,” he says.

“That's Lady Applejack to you,” she retorts with a sniff. “You better be at the top of your game, or I will sneak behind any monster you throw my way and stab them in the back with my poison-soaked kukri. And I'll smile as I watch them die a slow, agonizing death.”

Oh, fuck, Eddie likes this kid.

He raises one eyebrow at her. “I thought you had a big project that you're supposed to be working on?”

She stares right back at him, unimpressed. “You going to rat me out if I come play?”

Eddie hams it up a little, making a big show of thinking it over. Before he can tell her that obviously, he's the last one to give any kind of quibble about playing D&D instead of doing homework, the sound of heavy footsteps approaching echoes through the lounge.

“Hey, Erica?” Steve's voice calls, sounding a little strained. “Can you keep an eye out for Eddie, tell him I'm going to be a little late? I gotta - oh. You're here!”

Steve's rounded the corner, and now Eddie can see the reason for the heavier footsteps. He's giving a piggyback ride to a kid, who looks about eleven or twelve. The kid's face is screwed up in pain, and Eddie spots a bloody, skinned knee peeking through ripped jeans.

“Hey, man,” Steve greets. “Give me a minute? I've got to get this guy to the nurse.”

“I don't want to go see Nurse Henderson,” the kid sulks. “Can't you just patch it up yourself? Max is going to tell me I should have just walked it off!”

“Probably,” Steve admits. “But she'd also want you to get looked at if you're really hurt. And Nurse Henderson is the only one who's qualified to decide that, right? Besides, didn't we already talk about not doing stupid things just for a girl?”

“Especially for a girl like Max, who's way too old for me,” the kid replies, in a tone of voice that says, yes, he's heard all of this before. “Fine, I'll go to the nurse.”

“I'll keep Eddie company,” Erica volunteers.

Steve looks at her with narrowed eyes.

“I'm just making sure his campaign is up to snuff,” she informs him.

Steve relaxes, though he still cuts his gaze over to Eddie and waits for him to nod before he takes off.

Eddie tilts his head at Erica. “How would you feel about a little extra backstory? A little party betrayal, maybe?”

Her eyes light up. “I'm listening.”

By the time Steve comes back, Eddie and Erica and hunched over character sheets, and they've got a frankly amazing tie in for Lady Applejack into his slightly tweaked campaign.

“I take it things went well?” Steve asks.

Erica stuffs her character sheets into her folder. “He'll do.”

Eddie gets the feeling that's high praise, coming from her.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Lady Applejack,” he says solemnly.

She rolls her eyes, but accepts the hug that Steve gives her, and Eddie's pretty sure he hears Steve whisper thank you.

“Come on, let's go see Joyce,” Steve says. “She's the director of Hawkins Hope, she's amazing. Then we can grab lunch after.”

“Are you bribing me with fancy resort food?” Eddie asks.

Steve grins at him. “Maybe.”

Joyce is amazing, but lunch with Steve is even better. Eddie makes a big deal of moaning over how good the food is, but really, making Steve laugh is the best part.

Yeah, Eddie's in way too deep.

—

"Eddie!" Steve greets when he comes into the Hideout a few days after the final session. He sounds a little bit breathless, and Eddie immediately smiles.

It's amazing how much having a favorite regular there improves his night, on top of the fact that he thinks he and Steve are actually friends now.

"Hey, man," he greets. "The kids all get where they're supposed to be okay?"

Steve looks at him like he did something amazing, instead of just asking a question that any decent human being would ask, but Eddie's not going to protest.

"Yeah, just the staff left now. Hey, I wanted to ask - we're doing a masquerade event on Halloween as a fundraiser. I mean, the event itself is going to be kind of shitty, catering to a bunch of semi famous people, but the staff are having an after party. Do you want to come?"

Eddie swallows, trying not to get his hopes up. "Me?"

"Well, yeah, you were basically staff this week, so you should come."

"Oh." Turns out it didn't work, not getting his hopes up, and now he's fighting disappointment.

Steve must take that for reluctance, though, because he adds, "Chrissy and Jeff and Grant and Gareth are all welcome too, so you don't have to worry about not knowing anyone there? Unless you guys already had plans."

"Nah, I think we were just going to hang out and watch shitty horror movies, I'm sure they'd rather go to an after party at the resort," Eddie says.

It sounds like a much better night than anything they had planned, even if it isn't what he thought Steve might be asking.

"Good! Uh, that's good." Steve looks uncertain for a moment, like he's having a debate with himself. Whatever it is, he must come to a decision, because he leans over the counter a little. "What about you?"

…okay, maybe he's not completely out of luck here.

"Me?" Eddie asks again, but this time he keeps his gaze locked on Steve's.

"You," Steve says again. "I was really hoping you'd come, Eds."

"Yeah? What do I get if I go?"

Steve smiles at him, this soft little hopeful thing, and his eyes drop briefly down to Eddie's lips. "I got a few things in mind."

Oh fuck, this is happening.

"Well now you've got me intrigued. I guess I better make an appearance."

Steve's expression lights up. “See you at the resort at ten?”

—

There's even more security when Eddie arrives at the resort on Halloween. He isn't driving - he's pretty sure there's going to be free alcohol tonight, and he's planning on taking full advantage of it - but the cab he and the others took gets stopped three times by security guards, and each time they have to show their IDs.

“Who the hell is going to the stupid masquerade?” Eddie grumbles after they finally get dropped off at a side entrance to the resort.

“Celebrities,” Gareth says with a roll of his eyes.

There's still a small crowd of people exiting the resort through the main entrance a little bit away, and despite the grumbling and eye rolling, none of them can help craning their heads just a little, to see if there's anyone they recognize.

There isn't - looks mostly like people with press badges and cameras.

There's a little bit of a commotion, though, and that makes them pause, just for a moment.

“He owes us!” someone is shouting. “One song for the bronze tier donors, that's it? What does Alistair think he's trying to pull?”

“Oh, wow,” Chrissy says. “I mean, I knew Alistair was the celebrity endorser for the charity, but I didn't think he'd be here tonight.”

Eddie shrugs. “Steve said it was for the semi famous.”

“Alistair and Hawk are a little more than semi famous,” Jeff points out.

There's more shouting at the front entrance that distracts them, though - looks like whoever it was that was complaining is getting very firmly escorted out to the parking lot by security.

“What are you losers still doing out here?” someone asks, and Eddie turns over to see Erica scowling at him from the side entrance.

He beams at her. “Lady Applejack, destroyer of Vecna, light of my life!”

Erica rolls her eyes. “Get your butts in here,” she orders, disappearing through the side entrance.

Eddie and his friends dutifully follow her, down a few hallways and into a massive ballroom that's all decorated in orange and black lights, fake cobwebs, swooping bats, and even a fog machine. There's about thirty or so people mingling about, but fortunately, she leads them to where Steve and Robin are standing together. They're both dressed in black tuxedos, but Robin has a twinkling gold halo crowned on her head and a pair of feathery wings, and Steve has a pair of devil horns. There's a cup of something bright orange in each of their hands.

Jesus, Steve looks even more gorgeous.

“Hey!” Steve greets, lighting up. “You guys made it!”

There's a round of greetings, finished by Steve pointing out the tables laden with food - some of it is clearly fancy shit that was probably left over from the masquerade, but a decent chunk of it is freshly made, mixed in with a ton of boxes of pizza and pitchers of various drinks.

“Come on,” Steve says, circling his fingers around Eddie's wrist and giving it a tug. “I want to introduce you to my friends.”

Steve leads him around the room, weaving through the small crowd and stopping whenever he finds someone. Eddie meets Jonathon Byers, Argyle, and Nancy Wheeler - Steve's ex, apparently, which throws him for a moment when he sees that they're clearly good friends.

Eddie can't imagine being friends with any of the small handful of exes he has.

Steve shrugs when he says as much. “Nancy and I are much better as friends,” he admits. “Our break up was… all right, it was pretty bad. But it was a long time coming. We just didn't work, you know? We wanted different things.”

“Not a great point in favor of you still being friends,” Eddie points out.

Steve laughs. “Nancy's amazing at what she does. She's an investigative reporter for her real job - she just volunteers here, because it's family. It's a lot easier being her friend.”

Eddie's not completely convinced, but he'll take Steve's word for it.

Nancy seems pretty great, anyway, when both of their circles of friends end up spending most of the party together. She and Robin and Chrissy keep ducking their heads together and giggling, and Jeff and Jonathon are having some kind of emphatic discussion about something Eddie doesn't really understand, and he's pretty sure Gareth and Grant and Argyle have snuck off somewhere to smoke weed.

Eddie's a little disappointed they didn't invite him, except, well, Steve's been pretty much plastered to his side the whole time, so he can't really complain.

“You want to get out of here?” Steve asks, when Eddie has definitely had too many candy corn jello shots to be effectively considering the ramifications of that question.

He agrees anyway, wholeheartedly, and hopes he doesn't come across as way, way too eager.

Steve is beaming at him, though, and he leads him out of the room.

“Let's go for a walk?” Steve suggests, which isn't quite where Eddie's mind had been going, but he can admit it's probably a better idea than anything he might have come up with.

So they grab their coats, and Steve winds a scarf around Eddie's neck even though Eddie insists it isn't that cold out.

He's pretty sure the scarf is Steve's, though - it smells like his cologne - so he doesn't actually try to stop him.

“This is definitely a date, right?” Eddie asks as they're walking along the path to the lake, their fingers laced together.

You know, just to make absolutely certain.

“Yeah, it's definitely a date,” Steve says with a little laugh.

“It's technically our fourth date,” Eddie points out.

There's a little furrow between Steve's brow as he frowns at him. “What?”

Eddie holds up his free hand so he can tick them off his fingers. “One, you bought me drinks and dinner at the Hideout.”

“I paid for Jeff and Gareth too!” Steve protests.

“Two,” Eddie says, ignoring him. “You bought me lunch at the resort.”

“We're staff, we get free lunch!” Steve says.

“Three, you invited me to go to a Halloween party with you. And four, moonlight walk by the lake,” he finishes triumphantly.

“Those are the same date!” Steve's clearly trying to sound exasperated, but he's grinning, so Eddie's calling it a win. “And the other two are like, half dates. So if you really want to, we can call this our second date.”

“Come on, sneaking away from the Halloween party to get time alone is at least worth a half date on its own.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Okay, two and a half dates.”

Eddie pumps his fist in victory, but he doesn't get time to crow too much about it.

Steve kisses him for the first time out by the lake, leaves rustling in the wind and the reflection of the moon hanging heavy and orange.

It's perfect.

At the end of the night, after they've been gone from the party for so long that people have had to notice - though no one says anything - Steve gives him a piece of paper with his number on it.

“You don't have to call me,” Steve tells him, like there's any chance that Eddie won't use it immediately. “But I'd like it if you did.”

Eddie steals a pen and paper from the front desk, sprawls down his own phone number and shoves it at Steve.

“Here,” he says. “So you'll know it's me when I call you as soon as I get home.”

—

Eddie expected it to be a little awkward, trying to keep up a relationship - or whatever this is, is it a relationship when they've only had two and a half dates? - via phone, but it really isn't. Steve remembers his work schedule, and he calls him every day after he gets home from work, and it -

It's almost as good as having him there. They talk about their days, about everything and nothing, and it's so fucking good it helps distract him from knowing he's not going to be able to see Steve in person again until December.

Or at least, he wasn't supposed to see him until December.

But about a week after Steve's gone, when he's hanging out with Chrissy and trying to pretend like he doesn't miss him an unreasonable amount, Eddie asks, “Who is Alistair, anyway?”

Chrissy raises her eyebrows at him. “You don't know?”

Eddie shrugs. “It hasn't come up.”

“Scoops Troop?” Chrissy asks, like that's supposed to mean something. “The pop duo?”

And yeah, all right, the name sounds vaguely familiar, but it's not anything that Eddie looks for, and he shrugs again. “I mean, sure, I've probably heard some of their songs on the radio.”

She rolls her eyes. “You're ridiculous. I have a poster of Alistair in my bedroom, it's your favorite one. You've listened to him with me, he does that cover you really like, the one you said at least he wasn't a coward who changes the gender when he covers female songs.”

Shit, okay, yeah, now Eddie knows who she's talking about. He remembers that poster - a blown up shot of the pop star wearing a pair of tight jeans with the button popped, bare chested, head tilted back so all you could see was the line of his neck and the underside of his chin. He remembers sitting with Chrissy a year or so after they graduated high school, listening to one of his albums, hearing the guy sing about how it feels to watch the man he loves kiss some other girl, remembers how the song had stuck with him.

Huh. Handsome, good singer, funds charities - maybe he should have given more of his songs a chance.

“Oh,” Eddie says.

Chrissy laughs softly. “Yeah, oh. Should I tell Steve to watch out for your crush?”

Eddie bumps his shoulders into hers. “Steve is prettier,” he says confidently. “And sweeter, and funnier, and - everything-er.”

He does know to cut himself off before he starts going into too much detail, though, and instead he flops down on his bed.

“What's his deal, then? You have a poster, you probably know some things.”

Chrissy shrugs, flopping down next to him. “He's pretty private. Teenage pop star, made it big pretty quickly, had a huge, blow up falling out with his manager and record label. Went quiet for a while, made a massive comeback with a new manager and label as part of a duo with Hawk.”

Eddie hums softly. Nothing all that interesting - or nothing out of the ordinary from things he's read about in the music industry before.

“What was the blow up about?” he asks, curious. He could go look it up himself, of course, but it's easier to ask Chrissy.

“Something about his manager and label mismanaging his earnings. There was some kind of scandal back then about exploitation of child stars, it's why you don't see Harrington Studios or Brenner Talent Acquisition around much anymore.”

Jesus.

“Wait,” Eddie says. “Harrington Studios? Like Steve Harrington?”

Chrissy frowns. “Maybe?”

“Shit, Steve did say his dad was an asshole who wouldn't want to be anywhere near him,” Eddie says. “I wonder if that's why Steve cut ties.”

“You could call him and ask him,” Chrissy says mildly. “Didn't he say he and Robin were just going to be hanging around at home the next few days?”

Eddie narrows his eyes at her. “You just want to talk to Robin,” he protests, even though he's already picking up the phone.

Steve and Robin are home, and Steve sounds so happy to hear from him that Eddie almost immediately forgets everything else.

“I miss you,” Eddie says before he thinks better of it, before he wonders if maybe that's too much.

“I miss you too,” Steve says immediately, sounding a little bit relieved - like maybe he was worried it was too much, too. “I wish I could see you.”

“Hawkins isn't too far from here,” Eddie points out. “And I've got a guest room.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks, his voice a little soft, a little hopeful.

“Yeah. Come stay the night, we'll get pizza and watch bad movies.”

Steve hums a little like he's considering it, but it's playful, and Eddie's pretty sure he's going to say yes. “Are we counting this as a whole date, or is this another half date?”

Eddie breaks out into a grin. “Half date,” he decides. “That'll bring us up to three, and tomorrow we can make four.”

“Deal,” Steve agrees. “See you soon.”

Steve kisses him the second he and Robin arrive, crowding him in against the wall in the narrow hallway like it's been so much longer than a week since they last saw each other.

“Hi,” Steve murmurs when they break for air.

“Hi,” Eddie replies breathlessly, smiling so wide it hurts.

They end up squished together on the couch, Steve and Robin in the middle with Eddie and Chrissy on either side of them. After the pizza's gone, and they're mid way through their second movie - Eddie glances over, sees Robin's feet tucked under Steve's thigh, Steve's hand curled loosely around her ankle, Chrissy's head pillowed on Robin's shoulder.

Which sounds like a fantastic idea, actually, and he squishes down so he can lean into Steve's chest, Steve's arm wrapped around his shoulders.

Later, after the girls have disappeared into the guest room and Steve and Eddie are getting ready for bed, Steve seems… nervous, almost, as they climb under the covers.

“Everything okay?” Eddie asks.

“There's things you don't know about me,” Steve admits quietly. “Important things.”

Things like his dad owning a record label and working with a manager who exploits children, Eddie'd guess. Not a great thing for a guy who now works so closely with kids.

But Eddie trusts him.

“Hey,” he says softly. “It's okay. I mean, you don't know everything about me either, right? We're only at date three. It's okay if you want to take this slow, to get to know each other before we jump into the messy stuff.”

Steve looks like he's thinking about that. “That's okay?”

“Yeah, of course. If you want to feel each other out, keep this low commitment, even see other people, that's fine.”

It's not really fine, but now Eddie's said it, so he can't take it back.

Steve frowns at him. “I don't want to keep this low commitment,” he protests. “Eds - I'm in this. I don't want to date anyone else.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, a little shaky.

Steve's expression shutters a little. “Did you want to?”

“No!” Eddie replies, a little too quickly. “No, of course not. I just didn't want to pressure you. I, uh, I'm in this too.”

“Good.” Steve tips his head in to kiss him softly. “But - maybe slow is good? I haven't really had a serious relationship since Nancy and I broke up.”

“It's been a while for me, too,” Eddie admits. “…is it bad that it kind of makes me feel better? That we're both figuring this out together?”

Steve snorts. “Nah. Not bad. I kind of like the idea of figuring things out with you.”

—

“Hey, Munson!” April shouts from the office, when he's elbow deep in sudsy water doing the dishes. “You got a phone call!”

“Who is it?” Eddie yells back. He doesn't want to lose his groove if it's just a crank call, or one of his friends with something far from urgent.

“Some guy named Steve! Want me to tell him to get lost?” she asks.

“No!” Eddie yelps immediately. Then, in what he hopes is a calmer voice, “No, I'll come get it.”

He dries off his hands, passes April on the way to the office and has to put up with her smirking at him, but he pointedly ignores her.

“Hey, Stevie,” Eddie greets, already feeling himself smiling.

“Hey,” Steve says back. “Am I interrupting a busy shift?”

He sounds - just a little bit off. Almost like his normal self, but more like he's forcing himself to sound normal.

Eddie frowns. “Even if you were, it'd be a welcome interruption. What's up?”

“It's nothing really important,” Steve says. “I just - wanted to hear your voice, I guess.”

Oh.

Eddie lets himself feel soft and gushy over that for a moment before he leans out to shout, “April, I'm taking my lunch!” and closes the door to the office.

“Eds, you don't have to do that,” Steve protests. “I just wan-”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie cuts him off gently. “I can tell something's wrong. Taking my lunch is nothing - I'd drive to Hawkins right now to see you if you wanted.”

Eddie can Steve breathe out, a slow, ragged exhale.

“What happened?” Eddie asks.

“My dad happened,” Steve mutters.

Shit.

“Well, if anyone gets how hard it can throw you off when your shitty dad pops back up in your life, it's me,” Eddie says. “You want to talk about it?”

Steve's quiet for a moment. “I don't know why I let him still get to me,” he says after a while. “He didn't even talk directly to me. He hasn't tried to reach out since I cut him off, but he still knows exactly what to say to get under my skin, and he knows where to do it so it'll get right back to me. God, it's so stupid. I don't even care about his opinion, but…”

“But he's your dad,” Eddie finishes for him when he trails off. “Even if he's terrible, even if you don't want to be anything like him, even if you don't really want his good opinion, it's always going to matter a little.”

There's another exhale, though this one's tinged with something like relief. “Yeah. Exactly.”

“What'd he say?” Eddie asks.

Steve snorts. “Just the usual shit. I'm not living up to my potential, I'm wasting my time on publicity stunts, I've lost sight of what's really important.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie mutters. “Your dad really is an asshole.”

“Grade A,” Steve confirms.

“You sure you don't want me to drive down there?” Eddie offers.

“Nah,” Steve says, though Eddie can hear a smile in his voice. “I'm with Robin. She just went to pick up dinner, she should be back soon. Just, uh. Like I said, I wanted to hear your voice. It always makes me feel better.”

“You can't say stuff like that to me when you're not in kissing range,” Eddie teases. Mostly to cover up the way it makes his heart beat a little too fast.

“Sorry,” Steve replies, not sounding apologetic at all.

“Uh-huh,” Eddie says. “I'll still stay on the phone with you until Robin gets back. What do you want me to talk about?”

Steve hesitates for a moment before asking, “Is it too much to ask about what happened the last time your dad popped up?”

Part of Eddie wants to say that nothing Steve could ask him for would be too much, but he does the responsible thing and actually thinks about it before he answers.

“I was seventeen,” he says, once he's decided that yeah, he's okay with Steve knowing this. “I'd been living with my Uncle Wayne for almost five years. He blows back into town, claims he has something of my mom's that she'd always wanted me to get, before she got sick.”

“What was it?” Steve asks.

Eddie snorts. “Nothing. I already had everything of hers that she left behind. He didn't realize I'd already emptied out the old house after he left the last time. But he said he missed me, said he needed me. That he really wanted it to be the two of us this time, the way we always talked about when I was younger and he was teaching me things.”

Steve makes a little encouraging noise.

“Shitty things,” Eddie clarifies. “Other dads taught their kids how to fish or play ball, but mine? He taught me how to hotwire cars. Even at seventeen, he had me convinced. I wanted to believe him so bad, I went along with his idea. Ended up with him skipping town and me in a jail cell taking the fall. My uncle had to come bail me out.”

“I'm sorry, Eddie,” Steve says quietly.

Eddie shrugs, even though Steve can't see him. “It's not your fault.”

“That's not why I'm sorry,” Steve retorts, in a tone that Eddie knows means he's rolling his eyes. “I'm sorry that he couldn't see how amazing you are. You deserve better.”

Eddie feels his cheeks heat up. “So do you,” he replies. “Fuck our dads, all right?”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees empathetically. “Fuck ‘em. Who needs them when we have people who actually give a shit about us?”

Eddie wishes they were together, so he could take Steve's hand or tug him in for a hug or something, to make it clear that Eddie is one of those people who gives a shit about Steve.

“Yeah,” he settles for saying. “You can call me anytime, you know that, right?”

“I do now,” Steve says softly. “Thanks, Eds.”

Fuck.

“Any time,” Eddie managed to get out.

“You too, okay? Any time. Even if I don't answer right away, I'll always call you back.”

—

Eddie's pulling his boxes of Christmas decorations out of the storage space off of his little balcony when he notices one of the boxes is damaged.

He's not sure what happened. Water leaking, maybe, or maybe just the box giving out, but it's sagging in on itself, and when Eddie opens it he - he sees the remains of some of his oldest Christmas decorations. The ones that belonged to his mom.

Eddie stares at them for a long time, fighting back tears, and then goes inside to call his boyfriend.

“Hey, Stevie,” he says when he gets his answering machine. He doesn't even bother trying to sound like he isn't bummed. “It's not urgent, just - some of the Christmass stuff I had from my mom got wrecked. Guess I just wanted to hear your voice. Give me a call when you get this, yeah?”

There's an awkward pause that he almost fills with love you, before he hangs up real quick so he doesn't end up going there on a fucking voicemail of all things.

He doesn't really know how long it's going to be before Steve's able to call him back, and it's stupid to just wait around waiting, but… he can't actually bring himself to do the only thing he had planned today and get the Christmas decorations up.

Eddie's still dithering around hours later when the doorbell rings, and he considers ignoring it and pretending he isn't home. He's not in the mood to be any kind of good company, after all.

But then he hears Steve's voice calling his name through the door, and he's on his feet and opening it up before he knows it.

“You're here,” Eddie says, a little gobsmacked.

Steve shifts his weight, looking a little hesitant. “Is that okay? I mean, I know you said you wouldn't mind driving down to Hawkins for me if -”

Steve cuts off, because Eddie's dragged him inside the apartment and pressed him against the back of the door, doing his level best to kiss him senseless.

“It's not too much?” Steve manages to ask in between kisses.

“It's so far from too much,” Eddie returns.

Eddie's not really sure he knows what to do with someone who drove all the way here just for him, just because he was sad, but Jesus, he's not going to complain about it now.

They're both a little disheveled by the time they manage to get away from the door, and Steve gives him a tentative little smile.

“I brought you this,” Steve says, holding something out to him.

Eddie takes it, and it's - a copy of Loretta Lynn's Country Christmas. A signed copy. A signed copy specifically addressed to Eddie, wishing him a merry Christmas and a wonderful holiday season.

He looks back up, gaping at Steve a little. “Steve?”

“It was supposed to be your Christmas present,” Steve says. “But I thought - maybe you could use it now.”

Jesus Christ, Eddie's pretty sure he's really close to crying. He squeezes his eyes shut, taking a ragged breath.

“Thank you,” he says quietly.

He sets the album down, then practically launches himself at Steve, folding him into his arms and hugging him tight. Steve lets himself be held, sinking into the embrace and hugging him back just as strong.

Eventually, when Eddie's reasonably certain he's not in danger of crying - or blurting out a love confession - Eddie pulls back.

“How long are you here for?” he asks.

Steve shrugs. “I don't have any where to be now. I finished work up early, so I've got a few days before we have to get started on winter camp and the Hawkins Hope Christmas gala.”

“Stay here?” Eddie asks, even though he's a little afraid he's pushing it. The guy drove here for him after one upset voicemail, he's pretty sure he's not going to be turned off by the suggestion of staying over a few days.

“Shit, yeah, I'd love to. You want me to help decorate?” Steve offers.

Eddie swallows past the lump in his throat and nods. “Yeah, that'd be great.”

He puts on Loretta Lynn, and before he knows it he's laughing along with Steve as they bicker about where to put some of the decorations and immediately agree on others.

It's a much better day than Eddie could have ever imagined.

—

“How'd you guys even find this place?”

It's mid December, and the Hawkins Hope crew officially have the resort for the rest of the year.

Which means Eddie's been hanging out there pretty much all of his days off, to the point where the security staff don't even bother to check his ID anymore. They just let him waltz right into the resort to meet Steve at one of the lounges.

Or in the room Steve's staying in, which is where they're at now.

“We rented it out for a couple of weeks back in the spring. Or I guess, technically Scoops Troop did, but when Joyce saw it we figured it would be the perfect place.”

“That was you guys?” Eddie asks. “I figured it was some doucebag pop singer.”

“Well, I guess you'd be kind of right, depending on how you feel about Scoops Troop.” Steve says it too casually, like he's trying to pretend that he doesn't care about Eddie's response - but he clearly cares about Eddie's response.

Eddie hums softly. “How do you feel about Scoops Troop?”

“Hawk is fantastic,” Steve replies immediately. “She's so, so talented, she could do just about anything, you know? She's funny, and so damn smart, she's just amazing.”

Briefly, Eddie wonders if he should be jealous, but nah. Steve'd sounded similar to the way he does when he talks about Robin, and Eddie knows there's nothing going on there.

“What about Alistair?” Eddie asks.

Steve gives a one shouldered shrug. “I don't think my opinion really matters all that much.”

“Of course it matters, Stevie, your opinion always matters,” Eddie says.

Steve smiles at him, soft and fond. “Thank you.”

Eddie waits, but apparently Steve is going to play hard to get on the subject of Alistair. “Do you like him?”

Steve shrugs again. “Yeah, sure.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows, squirming a little so he's draped across Steve's lap, staring up at him expectantly.

Steve huffs out a little laugh, carding his fingers through Eddie's hair.

“It was touch and go there for a little bit,” Steve admits. “There was some pretty dicklike behavior going on for a while.”

Eddie gives a dramatic gasp. “A teenage idol? Being a dick? You don't say.”

There's another little laugh, which Eddie's going to count as a win.

“And now?” Eddie asks. “The charity thing, is that all a cover?”

“Nah,” Steve says. “That's genuine. You go through some shit, get a couple of good thumps on the head, it can change your perspective on a lot of things. Makes you realize what's important, and what's just bullshit, you know?”

It sounds like Steve's speaking from experience, and Eddie makes a little encouraging noise.

“My dad did some pretty shitty things to some of my friends,” he says quietly. “And to me. There was a time when I was probably too much like him. I mean, I wasn't ever that bad, but - I put popularity and shit above the things that really mattered.”

“It's hard to imagine you like that,” Eddie says.

Steve frowns a little. “Really?”

“Well, okay, you're kind of a preppy jock, and back in high school I would have thought you were a huge asshole. But I mean, I was kind of a dick back then, too. I probably would have judged you without even knowing you. And now, knowing you? Shit, you're amazing, Steve.”

Steve swallows, leaning down to kiss him.

“I kind of like that you don't know a lot about Alistair,” Steve admits quietly.

“Really?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah,” Steve says. “Most of the people that I work with, aside from the core staff? They're in this because it's a good look for them, or because of their connections with Scoops Troop. You're one of the few who helped out just because of the kids.”

“You guys did pay me,” Eddie points out.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, but you said yes before you even knew how much. It wasn't because of some celebrity, it was just because you're a good guy.”

Something squirms around in Eddie's gut, in a way that he can't decide is good or not. Don't get him wrong, Steve telling him he's a good guy's got his heart beating a little quicker, but he also feels like Steve's got the wrong impression of him.

“I mean, I also did it because you asked me to,” he says, before Steve goes thinking it was entirely selfless. “And you're the prettiest guy I've ever seen.”

Steve huffs out a little laugh. “You agreed to help out just to get paid and to get in my pants?”

“Well, not just that. It worked though, didn't it?”

There's another laugh, and Steve jostles him with his knee a little. “Seriously, though. There's not a lot of people in my life that aren't here because of Alistair.”

It's Eddie's turn to swallow. “Well, now you've got me.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, still far too serious. His eyes are so intense as he looks down at Eddie, like he's seeing straight through him - like he's on the verge of saying something big, something maybe too big.

“So what are you going to do with me, then?” Eddie asks, light and teasing, wiggling his eyebrows.

It works to break the moment, though Steve's still looking at him almost too closely.

“Keep you,” Steve says. “If you'll let me.”

Jesus Christ.

“Yeah,” Eddie replies. “Yeah, I'll let you.”

—

The sound of a piano playing draws him down one of the resort hallways, smiling softly as he recognizes it as a Billy Joel song.

“La, la-la, di-di-da,” echoes along with the notes of the piano. “La-la di-di-da da-dum.”

He follows the sound, until he reaches another one of the resort's many little lounging areas. This one has the customary fireplace, wide open windows with gorgeous scenery, and cozy seating. It also has a baby grand piano, and Eddie's a little shocked to see Steve sitting at it, eyes closed as he plays.

“Sing us a song, you're the piano man,” Steve croons. His voice is a little raspy, a little rough, low and soft and so fucking gorgeous that it makes Eddie catch his breath. “Sing us a song tonight. Well, we're all in the mood for a melody.”

“And you've got us feeling all right,” Eddie chimes in.

Steve's eyes fly open, and he looks a little panicked for a moment before his gaze catches on Eddie. The tension in his body relaxes a little, though there's something about him that seems a bit wary.

It makes Eddie feel like maybe he shouldn't make a big deal about this, shouldn't exclaim that he didn't know Steve could play or tell him that he should sing more often.

“Practicing for a music activity with the kids?” Eddie asks.

Steve's expression lights up with a smile, and Eddie immediately feels like he's said the right thing.

Which isn't all that common of an occurrence, honestly. Makes it feel pretty damn good that he just about always gets it right with Steve.

“Doing a piano lesson later,” Steve says.

“And you're going to teach them Billy Joel?” he asks.

Steve huffs out a little laugh. “Christmas carols, actually. I was just trying to warm up a little.”

“Don't mind me,” Eddie says, plopping down at the bench next to him and leaning against him. “Warm up away. Hey, you play one I know, and I'll even sing.”

Steve's expression goes contemplative for a moment. “How about we sing together?”

“You don't have to,” Eddie says a little guiltily, kind of worried that he'd made him feel pressured.

Steve shakes his head. “I want to. What's your favorite Christmas song?”

“Carol of the Bells,” Eddie says immediately.

Steve barks out a little laugh.

“What?” Eddie demands, bumping his shoulder. “It's a good one!”

“I know,” Steve says. “It's my favorite, too. It's just not a great dueting song.”

“Nah, come on, give me some notes. We got this,” Eddie insists.

Steve rolls his eyes, but his fingers dance over the keys as he starts playing.

“Hark how the bells, sweet silver bells, all seem to say, throw cares away.” Eddie's not exactly singing so much as he's whispering the words into Steve's ear, lips brushing up right against his skin.

It makes Steve's breath catch. He tips his head to face Eddie, playing without looking.

“Christmas is here, bringing good cheer, to young and old, meek and the bold,” Steve whisper sings back. Even like this, he sounds good - Eddie can tell he must have gotten some training, but with who Steve's dad is, he's not surprised.

Eddie kind of figures that's why any musical ability Steve has would be a sore subject, so he doesn't ask about it. “Ding dong ding dong, that is their song, with joyful ring, all caroling.”

“One seems to hear, words of good cheer,” Steve sings, lips so close to Eddie's that they're practically breathing the same air. “From everywhere, filling the air.”

Steve joins him in singing, “Oh how they pound, raising the sound,” their voices melding together in a way that Eddie's not sure is technically good, but fuck it feels downright magical.

They make it through a few more verses like that, but Steve kisses him before they finish out the song, and they're too distracted to get back to it.

Really, it's not like Eddie's going to complain.

Steve's amazing with the kids, he's clearly not a terrible shower singer, and Eddie's not holding out much hope for the wet towels on the floor at this point.

Eddie just doesn't know how he got so lucky.

—

When Eddie opens the door, Chrissy immediately smacks him with a magazine, but doesn't say anything until she and Jeff have pushed their way into his apartment and shut the door behind them.

Eddie blinks at them, bewildered.

“When were you going to tell us?” she asks in a low, excited whisper.

“Tell you what?” he asks.

“He probably swore you to secrecy, right?” Jeff asks.

“Can we talk about it now that we know?” Chrissy says. “Oh, wait, you probably had to sign an NDA or something, right?”

Jeff makes a face. “Are we going to have to sign an NDA?”

“An NDA about what?” Eddie demands.

Chrissy thrusts the magazine at him, shaking it until he takes it.

Oh.

That's Steve and Robin on the cover, wearing matching Christmas sweaters, with glitter on their eyelids and cheeks and snowflakes in their hair.

He can feel his expression go a little dopey and fond, but hey, how is he supposed to help it?

Eddie assumes it's some kind of article about the Christmas gala Hawkins Hope is throwing, but the caption of the picture catches his eye as he's looking up.

Christmastime With Scoops Troop! Alistair and Hawk spill about their holiday traditions.

It's not until Eddie hears Chrissy saying, “Oh” and Jeff going, “Oh shit, you didn't know,” that Eddie realizes he's gaping.

Eddie slams his jaw shut. “No,” he says tightly, feeling a sharp stab of hurt covered up immediately by a blinding rush of anger. “No, I didn't know that my boyfriend is famous. Apparently that's something that he didn't feel was important to tell me.”

He throws the magazine down onto the couch, stalking around the living room. “Apparently Alistair likes to play games with poor, hick bartenders, make them think they've found something amazing, while Mr. Famous Douchebag is probably off laughing with his other celebrity friends about what an idiot I am.”

“Eddie,” Chrissy says, sounding a little shocked. “I don't know if that's fair.”

“Fair?” Eddie demands. “Fair would have been leaving me the hell out of however he gets his rocks off. It wasn't coming into the Hideout again and again, hanging out with us and getting to know us, all the time keeping something like this!”

“Hey,” Jeff cuts in. “Come on, man, Steve didn't owe us anything then. He was just a guy coming into a bar to get some drinks, getting along with the staff there.”

Eddie snarls, because he wants to be as furious as possible, and he isn't thrilled that Jeff's making a logical point. “Fine,” he concedes. “But he owed me something. He should have told me what I was getting into before I got too deep. I don't - what, was his plan to just keep quiet about this forever and hope I wouldn't find out? How stupid does he think I am?”

Chrissy and Jeff are silent at that, but that just deflates Eddie more than if they had tried to argue with him.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” he asks.

“Do you want to break up with him?” Chrissy asks.

Eddie startles. “No!” Then he pauses, considering. “I don't know.”

“You don't know?” Jeff prompts.

“What if all of this was a game? What if he never liked me at all, and he was just a celebrity asshole having some fun?”

“What if it wasn't?” Chrissy counters gently. “What if he's just a guy who found someone he really liked and was too scared to tell him about this?”

Eddie drops down into the couch, burying his head in his hands. “I have to talk to him, don't I?”

—

Eddie goes to talk to him.

He asks the resort staff to let Steve know that he's here, waits around in the front entrance until one of the staff tells him they got the go ahead to let Eddie wait in Steve's room.

Eddie's sitting on the bed when Steve there.

“Eddie? Are you okay, they told me you-” Steve cuts off, and Eddie's going to assume that he saw the magazine in Eddie's hands.

He can't bring himself to look up to see him, to check for sure.

“Was any of it real?” he asks. His voice comes out rough, though he manages not to sound like he's on the verge of tears.

“God, Eds, of course it's real, how can-”

“Don't,” Eddie cuts him off, harsh and sharp.

Steve makes a little wounded sound before he falls silent, and this time Eddie can't help but look up at him.

Steve looks - he looks like a fucking wreck. His eyes are wet and sad, and he looks like everything that he'd been trying to balance on his shoulders has come crashing down. Eddie wishes he could say with confidence that the guy he knows, the guy he's fallen in love with, is the same guy he's seeing now, is who Steve really is.

Still, Eddie isn't here to purposefully hurt him. Chrissy and Jeff had talked sense into him - he just wants answers.

“I don't think it's fair for you to act like I'm out of line for doubting that,” Eddie says.

Steve crumples like a wet paper bag.

“You're right,” he says, which honestly - Eddie wasn't expecting. “It's not fair, I'm sorry. Of course you'd think that if I was hiding this, what else wasn't I telling the truth about?”

Eddie rolls up the magazine to hide how his hands want to shake, crinkling it with the force of his grip. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

“Not at first,” Steve admits, lips twisted in a humorless little smile. “This summer, I just - it was nice, spending time with people who had no idea who I was. I thought that would be it, but then the more time I spent with you, the more I fell for you, and by the time I realized I didn't want to let you go, I was afraid. Afraid of your reaction, afraid of what it would mean for us. There's so many people that think they know me as Alistair, and so few that know the real me. I knew, just - even if you didn't hate me, even if you still wanted to be with me, things were going to change. I wouldn't just be Steve anymore.”

“But… you are Alistair. I'm not getting the real you unless I can have both.”

Steve swallows. “Do you want both?”

Eddie blinks at him, a little thrown. “What kind of question is that?”

“Most people want to date Alistair, the pop singer. I haven't had anyone since Nancy who knew me as Steve first, and I - I don't know. I kind of thought it would work the other way, too,” Steve admits. “That you wouldn't want any part of Alistair.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow at him. “Dude, you keep talking about Steve and Alistair like they're different people. They're both still you, right? I mean, sure, you've got to put on a different front when you're out there with the press and the celebrities, but we all do that a little. You think I act the same way with most customers that I do with you?”

“I - no. Okay, well, I hope not,” Steve adds, just a little bit teasing.

“Definitely not,” Eddie says, giving him the tiniest smile. “So if you're really in this, I want you to be in it. I don't want you to have to hide something so huge from me. I think I deserve the chance to know all of you.”

“Okay,” Steve says softly. “You're right. You're - yeah. If you still want this, if I didn't fuck everything up, then I promise no more secrets.”

Eddie lets out a slow, ragged exhale. Then, “It was real, right?”

“Every bit of it,” Steve says. He inches closer, then when Eddie doesn't stop him, he comes to sit next to him.

“Everything I've told you is true,” Steve says solemnly. “It's okay if you can't believe that yet. I promise I'll work really hard to show you.”

Eddie shakes his head. “Maybe I'm stupid, but I do believe you. There's a lot of things that make sense now.”

Thinking back on it - he doesn't think Steve ever actually directly lied to him, not once. Just by omission.

“Fuck, your dad is even worse than I thought,” Eddie swears. “I assumed you guys had a falling out because he fucked over your friends, but he fucked over you.”

“And my friends,” Steve says. “Jane, Hopper's adopted daughter - she got it the worst. I mean, it was mostly our manager, Brenner, who was the real piece of work, but it's not like my dad gave a shit.”

“Fuck him even more,” Eddie mutters. “Am I allowed to ask what happened? Will I have to sign an NDA or something?”

Steve huffs out a little laugh. “No NDAs, and yeah, you can ask. Hopper and Joyce were the ones that uncovered a lot of it, at first, and then Nancy and Jonathan did this massive push and got all the details to leak to the press. They're in investigative journalism half because of how good of a job they did. Robs and I both almost quit music after, but Joyce and Hop knew this guy who was a really good manager, and Murray knew Dimitri who had a small record label, and it just… fell together.”

Eddie narrows his eyes. “Hopper's your head of security, isn't he?”

Steve grins. “And the security for Hawkins Hope, but yeah, mostly me and Robin. Jonathan also does most of our pictures for album covers and stuff, and Argyle actually handles our PR.”

Eddie hums. “Wait, why didn't I have to sign an NDA? What if I was secretly a reporter just pretending to be a bartender?”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “But you weren't.”

“What if I was?” Eddie insists. “Or, okay, what if it didn't work out and I was the kind of guy who liked petty revenge? What if some shady paparazzi comes up to me and promises a huge pay day if I spill all of the secrets I learned?”

“You wouldn't,” Steve says confidently.

Which, okay, yes, Eddie very much appreciates Steve's trust in him and it kind of makes him feel a little gooey inside, but Eddie's on a roll and he has a point to make.

“I could!” Eddie protests. “What if I was just a huge asshole? What do Hopper and Argyle think of you dating someone without an NDA?”

“I don't think I've ever had anyone mad at me that I didn't ask them to sign an NDA,” Steve says thoughtfully.

“Well clearly you've been dating douchebags,” Eddie grumbles. “You have to look out for yourself more, okay, what if I was just the worst person in the world and - what?”

Steve's smiling at him way too fondly. “I'm pretty sure I'm in love with you,” he says softly.

Eddie's breath catches. “Is that, uh. Is that a confession, or the reason you didn't have me sign an NDA?”

“Both?” Steve admits. “Look, I know it's kind of early, so I'm not expecting -”

“No, fuck that, I'm definitely in love with you,” Eddie cuts in. “I've wanted to say it since the time you called me at work.”

“Oh,” Steve breathes out. “Still?”

“Still.” Eddie makes a little face at himself. “I do trust you, Steve. It might take me a while to get used to everything, but I don't think there's anything I'm going to learn that will change that.”

Steve kisses him, tangling his fingers in Eddie's hair.

“Come to the Christmas gala with me?” he asks.

“Won't the press and stuff be there?” Eddie says.

“Yeah. It's okay if you're not ready for that, but I - I think I'd like to tell people that I have a boyfriend. To introduce you whenever you are ready.”

Eddie considers that. He's honestly not sure he is ready, but - shit, is he ever going to feel ready? “Yeah,” he says. “Jesus, yeah, let's do it.”

“Yeah?” Steve says, his face lighting up.

“Yeah,” Eddie says again. “Just, uh, let me call my uncle and tell him first. Unless - do you want to come with me, tell him together?”

Steve kisses him again. “I'd really like that. We're still in this, still figuring this all out together, right?”

Eddie follows after him for another kiss. “Together,” he agrees.

Yeah, Eddie can handle that. As long as they're together.

[meabh-mcinness]

A Price to Pay

Main Masterlist

When you and Professor Balam decided to take the Misfit class out on a field trip to survey items they were studying up close, you never expected that it would end like this.

I fully blame @acemoj85 for this. They came up with the idea one day and it wouldn't leave my head. Now everyone can experience the pain! Also please for the love of everything holy, unholy and in-between! READ! THE! TAGS! This is not a nice fic for good feels. There is no happy ending here (excluding the alternate ending because even I couldn't leave it there).

The streets of the demon city were a labyrinth of shadow and light, where the twilight hours blurred the line between the real and the fantastical. The marketplace was a living, breathing entity, alive with the hum of bartering voices, the clatter of hooves and claws on cobblestones, and the flicker of enchanted lanterns casting eerie glows across twisted architecture.

Among the bustling crowd, a small group of demons wove their way through the maze of stalls. At their head was a towering figure of a demon, easily twice the size of anyone else in his group. A flow of long white hair followed his massive frame as he lumbered forward, marking a way to go as everyone else dodged out of his way, even if he would never actually trample them. Beside him walked a figure cloaked in the traditional wear of a Babyls teacher, their features obscured by a carefully maintained illusion that made them appear as just another demon in the crowd. In reality, this was a human—a teacher at the esteemed academy of demons, where their true nature was a closely guarded secret by only a number of demons that could be counted on one hand.

Balam had to duck quite a few times to get through the crowd safely, though the way he parted the crowd was as unintentional as it was effective. He kept looking behind himself to make sure the kids were still following, his large form towering over them like a mother duck with her ducklings. He chuckled heartily when he noticed one of the kids had gotten distracted by a vendor selling jewellery.

Seeing the child distracted, he reached a large hand down and gently guided them with a soft and quiet “Come on, try to keep up.” The rest of the kids caught up, with a few giggling quietly at the one in front being ushered further along. He gave a soft smile behind his mask at the kids’ amusement, glad that they seemed to enjoy at least. But he continued through the crowd slowly, making sure the group stayed together to reach their destination

For them, this excursion was more than just an educational outing—it was a rare chance to explore the world beyond the academy's walls, to see the mystical and dangerous side of the demon world that they had only read about in books.

"Remember, we're here to study the different forms of binding crystals," you said, your voice calm yet firm, as you led the students toward a vendor's stall displaying an array of glowing crystals. Each one pulsed with a different kind of energy, from the warm golden hues of healing stones to the icy blues of containment gems. The students clustered around, eager to examine the crystals up close.

Balam nodded in agreement with the statement - though he kept an eye on the students around the gems. Some, though he had to admit not all, he knew were rather impulsive and would have to be watched to prevent them from doing something hasty. Namely, the black-haired one currently eyeing a few of the gems. He placed a hand on the kids’ shoulder, Jazz if he remembered the name correctly, preventing them from going forward before giving a quiet stern, ‘Don’t touch.’ as he did.

As the group moved to the next stall, the air suddenly grew thick with a sense of foreboding, making your hair stand up on its ends. The lively chatter of the marketplace began to dim in your ears despite it being as loud as ever, as your instincts screamed that something was wrong. Vaguely you could hear Alice and Clara asking Iruma what was wrong as you turned quickly, your eyes scanning the crowd, but could see nothing out of place—until a shadow flickered unnaturally against the light down one of the alleyways. You tensed as instinct overtook your muscles, your eyes narrowing as your mind processed the strange flicker of movement, eyes squinting to get a better look at them.

Balam felt a chill go through him, the hairs on the back of his neck raised, his hand tightening on Jazz’s shoulder in an automatic response to the potential threat that both you and Iruma sensed. The other misfits noticed this, feeling the change in their teacher’s demeanour, the cheerful atmosphere of the market feeling suddenly thick and tense as Balam also focused on the alleyway, eyes scanning over it… but found nothing more than shadows and the usual hustle and bustle from the crowd. 

He frowned beneath his mask stroking it thoughtfully, he had long since learned that you and Iruma had almost supernatural senses when it came to danger. An odd thing considering the human world was supposed to be a peaceful place, and yet he had never seen two creatures so attune to when there was danger about. Instead of trusting his eyes, he reached out with Buzzer, stretching it to see if there were any hostile intentions nearby -- and there! Exactly where your eyes were locked was a demon cloaked in mana -- and yet he couldn't see them.

His frown deepened and he started to reach into his mana to call forth his vines and capture this unknown demon, intent on interrogating him when before he could react, a figure cloaked in darkness surged from the shadows, their hands crackling with some form of black lightning. The students barely had time to gasp as the figure hurled a bolt of malevolent energy directly at them, aiming directly for little Iruma.

Time slowed to a crawl.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you made a split-second decision. Without thinking, you threw yourself in front of the oncoming bolt, your arms outstretched and a shield forming to block what was surely deadly magic. The dark energy struck with brutal force, bursting the shield into a thousand pieces and knocking the breath from your lungs, sending you crashing to the ground. Pain seared through your body, a deep, burning agony that threatened to overwhelm you.

"Sensei!" one of the students screamed, Iruma you thought, his voice laced with panic as he rushed to your side. The others quickly followed, their faces pale, eyes wide and bodies shaking with fear.

You gasped for breath, your vision blurring as you tried to focus on your students, reassure them that you were alright. But no words came out as blood seeped from a wound that cut deep into your side, staining your clothes and pooling beneath you on the cobblestones.

Balam’s face was a mix of horror and rage, the sight of his student in danger causing his normally controlled nature to flare into a protective rage. His eyes zeroed in on the figure that had attacked, his fist clenching tightly at his side as he stepped forward to rush the mysterious figure. At least, he would’ve, if not for what you did.

He saw you throw yourself in front of the attack, watched as you took the hit but collapsed to the ground in obvious pain, and his heart clenched, a sense of absolute terror crashing through him as the sweet scent of your blood reached his nose. He took an involuntary gulp at the smell before shaking his head, eyes blazing with fury as he took off his mask to bare his fangs at their attacker.

 The marketplace had erupted into chaos, demons scattering in every direction as the Balam snapped his teeth in a warning before giant vines erupted from the ground, giving the assailant no chance to escape. With a speed that belied his massive size, Balam launched himself at the enemy, his large talons crashing into them with the force of a landslide. The dark figure barely had time to react before they were attacked themselves by the enraged gargoyle. It was only the knowledge that you lay there, bleeding out and potentially poisoned, that kept Balam's hand from straight out killing the other demon.

He turned back to the human, dread gripping his heart as he saw them lying motionless on the ground, surrounded by their terrified students.

Balam rushed to your side, his heart pounding as he knelt beside you. "Stay with me," he urged, his voice breaking as he reached out to gently touch your face. Your eyes were half-closed and glazing over, your breathing shallow and laboured and getting slower by the minute. The wound on your side continued to bleed, whatever spell had been cast left a lingering taint that resisted the low-level healing.

"We're trying," Elizabetta sobbed, tears streaming down her face as she looked up at Balam with a mixture of helplessness and fear. "But it's not enough... we don't know how to do more..."

Balam's heart sank at the sight of you. You were so, so pale, and the blood loss was only getting worse. Balam felt tears of frustration and panic forming in his eyes as he watched the life slowly slipping away from the human before him. He had never really noticed until now just how small you were in comparison to him. You were always so full of life, ready to face every challenge that came your way with a grin, and now... 

Balam's heart sank at the sight of you. You were so, so pale, and the blood loss was only getting worse. Balam felt tears of frustration and panic forming in his eyes as he watched the life slowly slipping away from the human before him. He had never really noticed until now just how small you were in comparison to him. You were always so full of life, ready to face every challenge that came your way with a grin, and now... With a frustrated snarl, he placed his hand over yours, channelling his own mana into you, trying to bolster your failing strength, as he muttered healing spell after healing spell. But as the seconds ticked by, it was becoming increasingly clear that it might not be enough.

"You're going to be fine," Balam said, though doubt gnawed at him, threatening to turn his words into a hollow promise. "I won't let you go."

The human's hand reached up, trembling, to brush against Balam’s pale skin. They managed a weak smile, though it was strained, their eyes filled with pain. "Take care... of Iruma," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"No," Balam growled, his voice trembling as he leaned closer, his protective nature overwhelming him. "You're not leaving him. You're not leaving me."

Your eyes fluttered closed, their breath growing shallower by the second. The students huddled around them, their panic growing larger, a profound sense of loss growing in them as they watched their teacher fade before their eyes.

Balam's heart twisted in his chest at your words. With an anguished cry, he pressed his hand to your chest, willing you to live, to hang on. But despite his desperate efforts, your breathing slowed, your skin growing colder and colder...becoming as chilled as white snow.

Tears streamed down the gargoyle's face, mingling with the sweat that clung to his skin. He couldn't lose you. He wouldn't. The thought was unbearable, and for the first time in years, fear clawed at his heart. "No, no, no, no, NO!" he sobbed over your body.

Gritting his teeth together he snapped at the students to stand back. Laying your body out he tore his gloves off, revealing the scaled skin and sharp nails underneath. He tore the top of your shirt open, revealing your bra and skin underneath.

Carefully he dragged his claw in a careful sketch over your chest, drawing sigil after sigil that he could remember from the depths of his mind. Once his drawing was complete, he placed a barrier around the students, ensuring that they couldn't get too close or be harmed by what he was about to do. Ignoring the student's shouts as they banged on the barrier walls, he turned back to you.

Drawing on the last reserves of his strength, Balam placed both hands over the symbols, his runes glowing with an intensity that bathed your body in light, as the last dredges of his mana started flowing. He closed his eyes, focusing all of his energy on healing, willing the wound to close, the foreign magic to leave your body and let you live. The power surged through him and immediately his mouth started moving, chanting out the words to an old spell he had seen in a scroll during one of his many research hauls. The energy flowed into you, knitting your wound with agonizing slowness, but closing regardless.

For what felt like an eternity, there was nothing but the sound of Balam's ragged voice and the faint crackling of energy. Balam's heart pounded in his chest as he watched for any sign of life. His hands trembled as he continued to pour every ounce of his power into the healing spell, ignoring the exhaustion that gnawed at his very being. 'Come on,' he thought, 'Come back to us.'

The world trembled with a sense of anticipation, the air charged with the hope and fear that radiated from everyone. Yet despite Balam's best efforts, despite the raw amount of power that he was pushing into your body… nothing happened. There was no change, no sign of life... nothing.

The spell he had cast was just as hopeless as any other. For all his power and knowledge, for all his raw talent, there was nothing he could do. The realization slammed into him like a ton of bricks. No! It wasn't meant to end like this! He wouldn't allow it! He couldn't! This… This wasn’t the end. It simply just could not be!

So he poured even more into the casting, pushing himself to his limits and beyond. His face twisted with desperation and panic, and his body trembling from the sheer effort. But… it was no more helpful than before. Your body… your body was… dead.

Slowly the light of the spell died, and Balam pulled back, before collapsing over your body sobs racking his own. The students held their breath, hope and fear battling in their eyes, as the barrier flickered before fading, drained of the last remnants of Balam's mana. He had nothing left to give in his struggle to keep you alive. The misfits could only watch in stunned silence, their own eyes widening with terror and horror. The silence was deafening, filled only with the sound of Balam's sobs, his shoulders shaking as he clutched your body to him tightly, tears streaming down his face and onto yours.

Iruma let out a loud wail as he raced to be by your side, his small body burrowing itself in between Balam and you. He clutched the remnants of your ripped shirt and buried his face into your chest, desperate to hear any signs of life, from the faintest pulse to a faulty breath. Instead, only silence greeted him.

"No…" Alice whispered, voice cracking with grief and disbelief. Clara let out a small whimper, burying their face in Alice's shoulder, while several clutched each other in an attempt to find comfort among the turmoil.

Balam's tears fell onto your face, his grief and despair overwhelming him. He felt so lost, so helpless, and so incredibly guilty. He should have sensed the danger, should have been able to protect you, should have... should have done something, anything! But instead… you lay dead in his arms. He gently stroked your cheek, his touch soft and desperate, as if trying to bring you back to life with his touch alone. "Please," he begged, his voice rough and broken, "Please come back...I" 'never got to say I loved you.'

The silence was deafening. The students stood in an almost numb state of shock and grief, their eyes fixed on your lifeless body. Iruma continued to cling to you, his small frame shaking with sobs as he tried to find a breath, to feel a flutter of a heartbeat.

Iruma continued sobbing into your chest, his small body shuddering with each strangled gasp of air. He just couldn’t quite accept that you were… gone. This wasn't supposed to happen. You were too strong, too vital, too alive to just die like this! It wasn't right!

The tears continued to slide down Balam's face, a torrent of grief and despair. If only he had seen the attack… if only he'd been faster, if only he'd been able to stop it! Guilt and rage tore at his heart, but Iruma's wails of despair slowly brought his mind back to the situation at hand beyond only you. You were gone and there was nothing more he could do. Gently he grabbed Iruma and tried to take him away from your body.

The boy flailed, turning to strike at Balam and fighting to leave. Shouts of how you weren't dead, and how he wasn't leaving you leaving the tiny boy.

Finally forcing Iruma away from your cold body, the boy curled up in Balam's arms clutching onto his shirt for dear life as he was overrun with sobs. Balam's arms tightened securely around the child, making sure to keep him safe from the view of your body and from the view of others.

The tiny boy seemed even smaller than usual to Balam, now that he was the last human in the Netherworld.

The other students hovered nearby, their eyes rimmed with red from their own tears. They were shaken and uncertain, their voices quiet as they tried to come to terms with what had happened. Some even looked away, unable to bear the sight of you lying lifeless on the ground.

Balam's heart clenched tightly at the sight of Iruma's struggle. He held the tiny boy tightly, trying to offer what comfort he could despite the heavy weight of his own grief settling over him. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice thick with sorrow. "But I'll be here for you now."

Balam would be damned if he failed to succeed in fulfilling your last words.

Alternate Ending

For a moment, the world held its breath. The students watched with bated breath, hope and fear warring in their eyes, as the barrier flicked before fading from the lack of oncoming mana from Balam. He had no more left to give in his attempts to keep you alive.

Then, your eyes fluttered open, weak but alive. You looked up at Balam confusion in your gaze.

"You're okay," Iruma whispered, tears streaming down his face as he rushed to knee beside you. "You're okay..."

Balam let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. He pulled you into a gentle embrace, careful not to hurt you further. "Don't you ever do that again," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You chuckled weakly, though the sound was strained. Your hand rested against Balam's chest, feeling the fast but steady, reassuring pulse of his heart beneath his shirt. "No promises," you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper. But the warmth in your eyes said everything, as you turned to cuddle closer into him.

Balam held you close, the students gathering around the both of you, all of them shaking from the relief flooding their bodies as adrenaline left. A cold breeze flew by and you shivered, as it swept across your bared chest. Confusion swirled through your hazy mind as you tried to figure out why it felt wrong.

Opening your eyes again when you felt you had enough strength to do so, you glanced down to see the bare swell of your breasts and the lace of your bra showing through a shredded top. You blinked once, twice, and then once again before it finally clicked.

"Balam...."You started and he hummed in response. "Why is my shirt ripped, did the spell do this?"

He froze at the question, his own eyes glancing down to see your exposed chest, the exposure that he had caused. His face broke out into a fierce blush before he quickly told Clara to summon a blanket and wrap you in it, being sure to cover you up to your neck. Even then the blush remained as he hefted you up into his arms. Clearing his throat to try and hide his embarrassment, he turned to the students and declared they were leaving.

Luckily they had picked the town not too far away from Babyls.

Unluckily, he now had to deal with Sullivan and Opera about almost letting one of their beloved people die. He could already tell this meeting would not end well for him. 'Better him than you at least' he thought as he shifted his arms to hold you more securely.

[kakisocks]

Bottom!Anakin with a pussy fics

If you've been searching for a compiled list of trans Anakin fics I've made this list! Read the tags, all will be completed fics, and none of them will feature Anakin with actual breasts.

It's Always Been You

GFFA-verse Unable to admit to their feelings, Anakin and Obi-Wan seek alternate means to relieve themselves of their sexual frustrations. or The idiots are in love and too stubborn to do anything about it. In classic Obikin bumbling style, they accidentally end up picking each other at a gloryhole.

Show Their Truth

With every action, Kenobi proved Vader's Master a liar.

Heavenly Tension

“What did you do before I got here?” Obi-Wan asks casually, and Anakin will never be over how he can talk about sex like this when Anakin still stammers over his words. “Just fingered myself,” he says with a bashful shrug, “It usually works but it wasn’t enough.” Because his fingers aren’t Obi-Wan’s, thick and determined and deft. Obi-Wan makes another of those cooing sounds that make him feel like a youngling. “Aw, and not even your vibrator was enough?” Obi-Wan asks, picking it up from where Anakin had tossed it aside. “N-no, it was too much,” Anakin explains, trembling slightly as Obi-Wan rubs soothing circles into his skin. “Sweet boy,” Obi-Wan purrs out as he puts the toy aside, “I’ll take care of you how you need, don’t worry.” (Or, in which Anakin needs his Daddy to help him come but he learns that's okay.)

Good Things Come for Boys Who Wait

“Would you like to?” “What?” Anakin asks, confused once more as Obi-Wan waits patiently and expectantly for something. His fingers on Anakin’s hip burn. He wishes he could have more. “What it’s like to be eaten out — would you like to know?” Obi-Wan’s voice has taken on a huskier quality, and Anakin could die. or, Anakin has never been eaten out. Obi-Wan shows him what it’s like.

improper methods of scientific inquiry

Anakin stumbes upon a new and interesting species while bathing. Obi-Wan is a scientist at heart. -- For day 2 of monsterfucker march: plant monsters and tentacles!

make it hurt cuz we love it when it burns

Anakin wants to be a good boy, he really does. It's just so hard. Especially when the punishment for his failure is so enticing.

In the Heat of the Hour

A small gasp captured his attention fully, Obi-wan’s head snapping towards the door to see his omega, so shy and flustered standing at the doorway. He rose to rest on his knees, tightening his hand around his cock to relieve the pressure. Not able to suppress a growl, he watched how Anakin’s eyes seemed glued to his cock. His alpha wanted the omega under him, to praise him for coming to his alpha like a good boy. Anakin watched him closely, eyes finally flickering up to meet his own before he took a slow step back. “I shouldn't be here..” he muttered, taking another slow step back. A small whine caught in the omega’s throat when Obi-wan’s eyes narrowed, the boy coming to a standstill outside of the door.

don't like the cameras but I love it when you ogle

His Master just had a different, special way of showing his appreciation, his affection, his love for Anakin.

[arokel]

If you’re not swamped with requests, could I please have anything Bobby related with angst or hurt/comfort? 🙏🙏

Maybe Bobby is struggling to bond with the team because they’re very put off by his approach to rowing? (Like this guy sits and screams at them and critiques them all the time in the boat so it makes sense that they don’t like him at first, and Bobby gets it but the crew needs to fully trust their coxswain in order to be successful. And then maybe something happens and the team has to step up and be there for him, or alternatively Bobby does something that puts himself into harms way for them?

Honestly, feel free to do whatever, I’m happy so long as Bobby is in it 🙌

hey! sorry i went a slightly different direction than your prompt - i didn't think i could do it justice in a tumblr-sized fic <3 but this is at least in the spirit of it i think!

Befriending Al's Babies

Words: 1387 Rating: G Notes: this is book canon - aka Bobby, Chuck and Jim were in the varsity boat while Joe, Shorty and Roger were sophomores. Ulbrickson clearly had a soft spot for Joe's boat, which pissed off the varsity guys enough that Bobby created a specific chant about it - BAB, or "Beat A'ls Babies"

Bobby should be thrilled. They've got Rantz now, finally - Bobby knew he was the final piece long before Ulbrickson did, even though the prospect of working against Rantz's uneven technique doesn't fill him with joy - and the boat is flying. It's what Bobby has wanted, what he's known he could have, ever since he saw what that stupid sophomore boat could do last year and knew he could have made them even better.

But instead, there's something nagging at him.

"Alright, Moch, you've been frowning to yourself long enough," Chuck says, jogging slowly beside Bobby as they make their way up from the shell house towards campus. "Tell uncle Chuck and auntie Jim what's got you down when we should be celebrating."

"Why am I auntie?" Jim says. With his long legs he doesn't need to jog to keep up, even though Bobby is striding as purposefully and quickly as he can in the hopes of escaping any conversation.

Chuck is loping now, circling around in front of Bobby with a little backwards dancing step. "Because I don't want to be. Out with it, Bobby. You're no fun when you're moping."

"No one is fun when they're moping," Bobby mutters, but he knows when he's beaten. He keeps walking anyway just to make Chuck jog backwards for a little longer. "It's Morris and Hunt."

Chuck frowns, stumbles, and winces. Serves him right. "What's wrong with Morris? I like sitting behind him. He's steady, never crabs. And Jim likes Hunt, too."

Bobby doesn't want to have this conversation. He never wants to have any conversation about his interpersonal skills or lack thereof, but Chuck and Jim are his friends and they're trying to act like it, too. He can only keep pushing them away for so long before they stop. He sighs, making an about-face towards the water and starting to walk again. If he has to talk feelings, at least he can do it with something to look at besides Chuck or Jim.

"They're fine in the boat. They row well and they listen to what I say. But out of the boat... I don't know. There's something off, like they don't trust me or they don't like me. And I know I'm not exactly a likeable guy -"

"Shut your trap, Moch. Don't fish for compliments," Chuck says cheerfully. He winces a little with each step; he must have tweaked his ankle.

Jim is slightly more understanding, but that might just be because he's not dealing with a minor ankle injury. "Have you considered that maybe, possibly, they're still a little sore about you calling them Al's babies all last season?"

"That's - well - that's true, I guess," Bobby says. It feels like pulling a staple out of his thumb to admit it, but Jim has a point. He keeps walking anyway. "But I'm nice to them now. Outside of the boat."

"Right, because you've never held a grudge in your life."

That's true too, and ordinarily Bobby wouldn't be ashamed to admit that he can nurse a grudge with the best of them, but in this moment he's frustrated and a little bit hurt - both by Roger and Shorty's obvious distance from him and by his friends' ability to brush it off so easily as being all Bobby's fault.

He stomps down the grassy embankment towards the cut and doesn't check to see if they're still following. Maybe it is his fault; people often find his abrasiveness in and out of a shell off-putting. But that's just who he is. Roger and Shorty will just have to deal with it.

"Well there's nothing I can do about it," he says, once scuffing footsteps in the grass behind him have confirmed that he does still have a captive audience for his fit of pique. "I can't go up to them and apologize; it was just smack talk. If they're still mad then that's their issue to fix."

Suddenly there is a hand gripping his bicep to spin him around, knocking him off balance. He sets his jaw as he finds his footing again and glares even further up than usual at Chuck Day.

"Robert Gaston Moch. You can use your grown-up words and tell them hey, all's fair in love and crewing, no hard feelings. It's that easy." Chuck heaves a sigh and releases Bobby's arm, smoothing out the wrinkles left in his sleeve. "They'll like you just fine once you've cleared the air."

It's petty and childish to keep arguing back, but Bobby is petty and childish, and he's so damn frustrated that he can't just feel good about a successful practice, or at the very least sulk about it peacefully in his room.

"It's just that people don't like me, usually, and I'm an asshole most of the time and -" he says, ignoring how his voice has gone tighter with suppressed emotion. Then, even more suddenly, he is hoisted into the air.

Jim, now holding him bridal-style, shakes him gently, like a cat taunting a captive mouse. "Okay, into the lake with you."

"What -"

Before Bobby can question or protest, he's in the water. It's cold - colder even than it usually is for March, and for a second the shock of it leaves him unable to tread water. He recovers quickly enough to glare at Jim without betraying his momentary loss of control and paddles slowly to the bank, gritting his teeth against the icy pins and needles pricking his bare arms.

Jim grins, raising his voice just loud enough to be heard. "Are you ready to take it back?"

Bobby is even less ready now.

"You bastard," he pants as he clambers up onto the grass. "And people call me unpleasant to be around -"

"Haven't learned your lesson yet, I see," Jim says, deceptively pleasant, as he pins Bobby's arms to his sides and hefts him into the air again. Bobby tries to kick out and escape, but Chuck is immediately there to restrain his legs as well.

Voices behind them briefly postpone his soggy fate.

"Are we throwing Moch in the water now? Did we win something?" Roger Morris slopes into view, seemingly unfazed  by Bobby's torment. Then his dark brows come down in concern and displeasure. "Shit, he's shivering. Are you guys hazing him? Weren't you on varsity together?"

Bobby feels his face burning with embarrassment and anger despite the shivers. Of all the people to come to his defense, to see him when he looks this pathetic at the hands of his so-called friends - of course it's one of the two guys who currently like him least.

"I'm fine. I don't need anyone babying me," he says. He realizes his unfortunate wording immediately, but it's too late.

Roger grins. "That's odd; I thought we were the babies."

Bobby grits his teeth and looks away. He won't snap back. If Chuck and Jim are right, he'd only be making things worse. He can be the bigger person, even if his jaw hurts with how much he's holding back. It's not fair -

"Don't look so hang-dog, Moch, we know it was all just talk," Roger says, with an audible roll of the eyes. "We were just letting you stew in it for a bit before we forgave you all the way. You're too good of a cox to stay mad at forever."

"And Rantz?"

It's still spoken through gritted teeth; Bobby can't forgive that easily either. But he feels a little less cold anyway.

Roger shrugs. "Joe will forgive anyone anything, poor man. You can ask him yourself. Anyway, we're middle children now, just like McMillin and Day. We're all grown up and mature; holding grudges is beneath us."

Jim turns a laugh into a cough.

"Oh, I like him," Chuck says, delighted. "Morris, I think you and I are going to be great friends."

He gently lowers Bobby's legs until Bobby's feet can find purchase on the ground again, and once Bobby is steady Jim, too, lets go with an encouraging back-pat.

"That's good to hear, because you've lost me as a friend after today," Bobby says sullenly.

Chuck pouts. "Aw, no, Bobby, I like you too. You're a likeable guy; isn't he, Roger?"

"We'll see," Roger says, but his faint smile goes at least a little way to soothing Bobby's wounded pride.

[cheesybadgers]

Something I pay a lot more attention to since writing a 167K+ longfic is how stories are structured. And one thing I was really conscious of when writing an ‘angst with a happy ending’ fix-it fic was not giving both main characters everything they wanted/needed a) too soon and b) at the same time as each other because for me, that's just too neat and tidy and not particularly interesting to write or read. Where romantic plots are concerned, it also kind of perpetuates the misguided notion that being in love and being loved in return magically erases all other problems in life.

There were a few times I'm sure some readers of mine were thinking 'Why can't they just have their happy ending now?' and quite simply, it was because both characters were on their own separate journeys as well as the one they were on together. They had their own lessons and realisations to learn, with the support of each other of course, but ultimately, independently of each other before they could properly move on with their lives together.

I suspect (but could be wrong, I admit lol) this might be what's happening in a certain show about to start its new season, but there is a tendency for fandom to either not have the patience for longform storytelling like this or not understand how the structure of it works. They'll see something in front of them in the here and now and assume that's that plot point/character trait/relationship dynamic permanently decided because it's canon and we all know canon is the final word and is an immovable state. Anything else that subsequently counters what has been established already is deemed to be 'out of character' or 'unrealistic' or a 'continuity error' or 'bad writing', rather than y’know, fundamental character and story development.

I'm not even aiming this at one specific fandom, because a certain vampire show was also terrible for this during the airing of season 2. X or Y couldn't possibly be true because Z had already been established as canon and canon is obvs The Law. And I'm sorry, but that's not how it works lol.

One of the hardest but most satisfying parts of writing for me is not deciding what's going to happen; it’s deciding how it's going to happen. Your characters start their arc at point A but you need to get them to point B, C, D and beyond. Plotting a story is like a game of chess, a jigsaw and a juggling act all rolled into one. It's a problem-solving exercise and that's why I love it. But it's not easy and in all honesty, I don't think you fully appreciate this until you do it yourself.

Now I find myself noticing that even when I don’t personally like a particular writing choice and think it was executed weakly, I try to understand the purpose and intention of it in the overarching story. And this is where critique/analysis can be interesting, because the execution is often what makes or breaks a good story even when the premise itself is compelling.

But I think the craft of storytelling often gets overlooked in fandom, which is where the abundance of ???? commentary and arguments seem to come from, because a lot of people aren't looking at the bigger picture or the full character/plot trajectory. They're just clinging tightly onto specific canon details to the exclusion of everything else...or, alternatively, they’re not engaging with canon in the slightest to the extent where you wonder what the point is of calling themselves fans of the piece of media in the first place. I gain very little pleasure in either of these extreme/bad faith approaches, which basically rules out interacting with a large portion of fandom these days lol.

As a certain unreliable narrator once said:

[allbluedepths]

More time travel AU thoughts that were originally a reply to @softesttangerines' fantastic thoughts here. This was a reblog, but then I got carried away (like 700+ words of carried away), so I'm making it its own post to not break my mobile dashboard lol. Includes some stuff on teenage Shanks' mindset, current Benn's perspective on meeting teenage Shanks again, and a little bit of Mihawk's perspective on teenage Shanks + their relationship both past and current at the end.

I agreed with everything too hard and then ended up with a megapost. Oops.

Teenage Shanks’ mindset and misconceptions is something I’ve thought about a lot for this AU. Arguably too much. First off, his recklessness? He doesn’t have a fantastic value on his own wellbeing, and it’s still a bit different with his crew — he wouldn’t want to get hurt and leave them high-and-dry without a captain because it wouldn’t be fair to them, but he still doesn’t fully get that they’d be upset about it because they care about him, not just his title.

I think Benn in the original timeline eventually comes to understand this through some odd comments/implications/behaviors from Shanks, but it isn’t stated outright and takes a good while to hit. Plus, by the point Benn has a real inkling about it, Shanks has gotten with the program, so it never lines up to have a time where Benn would really intervene.

(Adding in a note here for me yelling into a pillow because yes that’s 1000% what I was going for with Benn meeting teenage Shanks again and I am Elated. “You might as well take his title” brb going to go cry a whole puddle at that.)

Current Benn? Absolutely yelling at his younger self about how obvious it is and how did he miss it?? (Actual answer: Shanks hadn’t told him a lot about his childhood yet, and he’s not a mind reader. He’s still upset about it, though.) Teenage Shanks is a conundrum of keeping people too close and too far away all at the same time. He loves his crew, but with how recent it’s been since the whole Oro Jackson disbanding and him basically being on his own… the kid has some funky abandonment issues of letting himself believe this crew really is going to last.

And this crew isn’t even his crew. Their captain is missing because he’s the one there now — what are they going to do if he doesn’t return? What’ll happen to him? (Benn’s definitive breaking point is Shanks finally hitting his limit of how much he can bottle up and asking what’ll happen with him if their Shanks can’t come back? Because to him, the answer is he’s not entirely sure but it certainly involves Shanks still staying with them, and to think Shanks doesn’t implicitly understand that is upsetting, and he’s fixing that, now.)

(That part is actually somewhat written, so I really want to post it soon now, haha.)

Fic plot side tangent: while they know it’s likely Devil Fruit shenanigans that caused the whole fiasco, they don’t know if it’s a swap of the two Shanks in the same timeline, a swap with a different timeline, or something else (ex: de-aging). The actual answer is that it effectively creates an alternate/split timeline, so there’s nothing to worry about, but there’s the concern that if they change things for Shanks too much, something will go Wrong.

Benn is by far the one to stick with that the most at first (maybe tied by Mihawk) and he does end up sticking with that to an extent — it works fine for major “plot points” so to speak. But interpersonal stuff? Once Benn starts realizing what he missed the first time around… yeah no, that’s getting fixed like you said. If doing that causes issues down the line, then so be it, but he can’t in good conscience let some of that go.

Mihawk’s bits keep getting cut short because I go on for so long about Benn’s perspective RIP. But yes 100% to all of that. Mihawk may not admit ever (or even fully to himself) that he had his own share of mishandlings in the past, but he’s at a point where there definitely is a hint of regret of how far away he held Shanks for so long, knowing what was to come now. (However, I like to equally think his slight moments of conceding are also out of the knowledge that Shanks wormed his way into his life once — he can definitely do it again in his own time, even better and quicker with some guidance.)

He does 100% think this Shanks is endearing, though — how could you not? At the same time, it definitely reaffirms his appreciation for his Shanks and who he grew into being once day.

(Also: wheezing over Shanks asking Benn for love advice to win over Mihawk. That man has really been put through it, haha.)

[wyattjohnston]

daisy & birdie take miami - jack hughes | andrei svechnikov

series: we don't have no time to waste & starting at the end

word count: 1,345

note: this is such self-indulgent world building that idec that i’m shadowbanned and it won’t show up in the tags. i haven't finished birdie & svech's fic yet.

i made some insta edits at the bottom too :)

Daisy didn’t skip class very often—her degree was important to her and the effort she’d put in to get transferred to Columbia could not be wasted.

However.

She made exceptions for the All-Star Break because there weren’t many other times during the year where Jack was actually able to relax. Not that the All-Star Weekend resulted in much relaxing at all with a tight schedule and handlers making sure they stuck to it.

Daisy, though—Daisy got to enjoy herself.

She was enjoying the free alcohol that had been set up in a sectioned off area at the Resort for the players’ guests who hadn’t ventured out into Fort Lauderdale by themselves. Daisy had thought about taking herself around, but she was no stranger to Florida and it was easier to just drink where it was free. There was also the fact that she was only a quick walk away from the hotel room if she got antsy about the unfinished assignment waiting for.

It wasn’t even a big deal to be sitting by herself, alternating between scrolling through her phone and taking off-angle, long distance shots of the little rink or interview tables that had been set up.

“Can I sit here?”

Daisy lifted her head, already readily agreeing, and was a little shocked when she half-recognised the person standing in front of her.

It took a few moments for Daisy to realise that it was Birdie Jones—an Instagram model she followed, known for her bright, colour-blocked outfits with matching vibrant makeup. She looked completely different in jeans and a tank top.

Birdie relaxed into the free chair beside Daisy, immediately stretching out and craning her neck to see everybody in the area.

“Someone got married last year,” she said when she was looking back at Daisy. “I want someone else to do something insane this year.”

“I was the one who got married,” Daisy said, a shocked smile on her face. Nobody but Jack had brought it up and she fully expected it to just be something that had happened that wasn’t interesting enough for anyone to remember.

“It was you?” Birdie asked, her voice increasing in pitch considerably and she sat up straighter. “You’re my hero.”

“We’re not really married.”

“Oh, well, that doesn’t matter. Someone had to; it was Vegas.”

“That’s what we thought!” Daisy said, slapping Birdie’s arm in excitement. “Some people didn’t find it very funny, but we’re young and dumb so I think we got a free pass.”

“Which one’s your husband?” Birdie asked, gesturing to the hockey players.

Daisy pointed to Jack in the crowd of players, staff and media, leaning in so she could make sure Birdie knew where she was pointing, “Jack, from the Devils.”

“Oh, nice, I’m with Andrei from the Hurricanes.”

“I know,” Daisy admitted. “I really like your Insta.”

“Oh my god! Thank you, that’s great and really nice of you, but, like, I have an idea and I need a friend who will be in the post with me. I wasn’t expecting to meet anyone, so we’ll need to do a quick run to some stores but I have an idea.”

“Me? In one of your posts? I would be honoured but—”

“No buts! Whatever you’re about to say and put yourself down is not true and I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t serious.”

Daisy stood up before Birdie did, the excitement of their afternoon already getting to her.

She hesitated only briefly before shooting Jack a text to let him know she was heading out, she knew that his phone hadn’t left his hand all day even as he sat in front of the media and that he was incapable of letting a notification go unchecked. That was a him problem, though, and part of her hoped that his reaction to seeing a text from her would be caught on camera.

Birdie had gone into the weekend with the intention of taking break from work. A lot of people would, and did, argue that taking photos and posting them to Instagram or making videos and posting them to TikTok didn’t constitute work but Birdie’s 3 Million Instagram followers had not appeared overnight.

There was one idea she wanted to do, though, far less formal and intensive than normal but otherwise much the same—Daisy was the final piece to that puzzle.

Birdie dragged Daisy through Fort Lauderdale, in and out of stores trying to find the perfect baby blue outfit to match the baby pink one she’d brought for herself.

“How did you and Svech—Andrei—meet?” Daisy asked as she pulled a face at a skirt Birdie was holding up. “Does it have to be a skirt?”

“Course not, we can find you something else.” Birdie hung the skirt back up and searched for the next baby blue item. “I met Drei through a friend of mine meeting a guy on the team. How did you meet Jack?”

“High school sweethearts; we’ve been together since junior year.”

Birdie’s smile was real, the sweetness of it all hitting her right in the heart. It was made all the sweeter by the lovestruck look on Daisy’s face. She hoped her own face looked like that when she spoke about Andrei.

They didn’t find anything that they both loved enough to make it onto Birdie’s feed, and wandered in and out of a few more stores—including a pit stop to get some mojitos because it was happy hour at the bar they passed.

“Do you know who Andrei is just from my Insta? Or are you into hockey?” Birdie asked, having clocked a few things Daisy said throughout the day as the latter but not being a hundred percent certain.

“I’m a Red Wings fan, born and raised. I was into hockey long before Jack came around—but the school I went to had quite a few of the US Development Team kids so I think I was doomed to love this stupid sport. Are you into it?”

Birdie laughed. “I love the Canes as, like, a little family, and that’s about it.”

Daisy agreed, at least, that it must be pretty bizarre to get thrown into the world of hockey if it wasn’t something you were interested in.

After a couple of mimosas, and a few texts from Andrei that moved from him being lonely in the hotel room to being less lonely at the hotel bar, the girls found the store that worked for them. The perfect colour caught Birdie’s eye as soon as she walked through the door, and she held up a pair of blue pants—that had a matching blazer—to Daisy who instantly agreed that it was perfect.

“This is so wild; I’m going to be in a Birdie Jones post. I know that you’re human, and I went through this exact thing with Elena Rubio where I like met her and was so uncool about it and now she comments on my Insta posts and it’s normal.”

Birdie snorted, loudly, “You did not just compare me to Elena Rubio.”

“I mean, like, you’re both famous or whatever and I’m a nobody college kid.”

“I’m not ‘famous or whatever’,” Birdie said as she rolled her eyes. Daisy protested.

They were back in the hotel lobby when Birdie said, “We’ll probably have to take the photo in the morning, I need Drei to take it but he’s out having fun somewhere.”

“No way! Like, I thought he was taking some of your photos but he’s like a full Instagram Boyfriend?”

“He’s pretty good, isn’t he?”

“Jack’s useless. I’m going to steal Svech for a little bit. Just a day or two, build up a backlog.”

“We should hang out in the summer or something—you don’t need Drei, you need me.”

There was some squealing, and some earnt glares from the older men in the lobby, before Birdie was catching Daisy who flew at her with an unexpected and excited hug. It was easy to be swept up in the excitement.

Please consider leaving feedback—reblog and write in the tags or send an ask, I’m not fussed. I just want to know what you’re thinking!

tag list: @fallinallincurls @spine-buster @2manytabsopen @xcicix @sorryjustafangirl @senditcolton @shinyfalcon4 @guesswhoispathetic @laurenairay @ripepeach @jarmorie

add yourself to the tag list

[oflights]

you are not alone on the monoshipping, my friend! so, drarry and falling in love: who falls first? do they become friends and then realize it? are they oblivious boys? tell me everything

yesss 🙌🏻 we're just loyal and hyperfixating!!

okay, for me the question isn't "who falls first?" it's "who admits to falling first?" the answer to that is always harry to me. draco might actually fall for him first, but he'll deny it if he doesn't think the circumstances are correct for the best possible outcome landing in his favor.

harry is fully and enthusiastically ready to trip over his own dick in love as soon as he figures it out, god love him. zero self-preservation skills, if he's pining it's because he hasn't figured out that's what happening or draco's outright rejected him (or is with someone else or had his own memory erased and fell into the underworld)

if draco's oblivious it's more out of denial. he's a look first, leap much later type; harry's already taken a leap before it even occurs to him to count how many bear traps are on the ground.

i've softened to it over the years, but i don't love mutual pining all that much. that "oh wow, we were both in love all along" moment really needs a lot of setup and structure to explain to me and i don't know that i've ever bought it enough to write it outright myself? i actually really, really love building romantic tension that has nothing to do with pining (i'm so fussy about this i think i avoid ever using the actual word in dialogue/narrative lol, at least unironically) and more to do with like. knowing each other, learning each other, actively falling in love over the course of a narrative and maybe being cautious about it, feeling the other one out for how they feel or being in denial, but eventually embracing it with that understanding of like oh, we're both here together, awesome, let's go for it.

alternatively, if there's been pining on one side, i like the acknowledgment that's like "wow i never thought of you that way" (and i think draco specifically is really good at putting people and feelings in boxes in his mind and refusing to see outside of them until he's forced to) and then like "i'm not there yet, i don't feel it as hard as you do yet, but i could be there and would like to try." to me that's really refreshing and natural and sets up a relationship that's about getting on the same page, feelings-wise. i wish we saw that more in fic!! falling in love is such a lovely, satisfying process that mutual pining can kind of cut corners on. [ben wyatt voice] it's about the progression.

send me drarry tropes and i’ll respond with five related headcanons!!

[fallintosanity]

Curious to hear about this promare fic you are definitely not writing :3

Oh god this is one of those fics where I wish we had brain-to-page technology, because it appeared almost fully-formed in my head after like the second or third time I watched Promare. XD

I haven't actually written anything for it (true to the doc title I suppose XD ) but I can give you the synopsis / book-cover blurb! (Under a readmore for length, whoops)

WIP ask meme!

The fic starts the day after the movie ends, with Lio, Meis, and Guiera working through the immediate aftermath of the Parnassus incident. While some of the (now ex-)Burnish survivors were able to return to their old homes and families, thousands more have nowhere to go - and are collectively turning to Lio to lead them. At least for now, they're being allowed to stay in the Parnassus's passenger rooms, but Lio and his lieutenants know that can't last.

Galo, meanwhile, is dealing with the aftermath on the government side, where he's being hailed as a hero - and therefore expected to be In Charge Of Things along with the Burning Rescue team and their few allies in what remains of the government. He tries to use his new influence to help the Burnish, but it's clear that no matter how many times they remind people that the Burnish were Kray's victims, public sentiment still blames and shuns the Burnish for the destruction wrought by the Parnassus.

Tensions are escalating fast, and within days the Burnish survivors-turned-refugees are all but locked up on the Parnassus under heavy armed guard. Galo promises Lio that the guards are only there to protect the Burnish from angry mobs - but to the Burnish, the ship is just another prison.

Then, little more than a week after the Parnassus incident, Galo wakes up to shocking news: every single one of the Burnish refugees on the ship has vanished. And it's clear they intend neither to return nor to be found; they took all the supplies and equipment Kray's crew had stocked for settling a new planet. But to Galo, the worst part is that almost everyone in the city is happy about it - happy to let "those freaks" go to die in the empty wilderness and leave the "real humans" in peace.

Galo can't just let Lio disappear like that, and spends the next few months tracking the Burnish refugees to their new home. But to his frustration, Meis and Guiera refuse to let him see Lio, claiming he's away from the Burnish city and won't be back any time soon. Finally Galo manages to sneak past them into Lio's bedroom - where he finds Lio unconscious and horribly ill. Galo leaves without waking him and goes to demand answers from Meis and Guiera.

Guiera reluctantly admits that Lio is dying, and all three Mad Burnish knew it since the day after the Parnassus crashed. Meis explains that Lio is "Burnish-born": both his parents were Burnish when he was conceived, and he's been Burnish since birth. It's why he's so much more powerful than the other Burnish, but it also means his body is adapted to the Promare so thoroughly that he can't survive without them. Since his Promare returned to the alternate dimension with all the others, Lio probably only has a few months to live, if that.

Galo is horrified - but as Meis and Guiera point out, the Promare are gone. There's nothing Galo can do for Lio, except to let him spend his last days in peace and safety, surrounded by the Burnish he sacrificed everything for. But Galo has never cared whether something is impossible. No matter what he has to do, no matter how far he has to go...

He won't let Lio die.

[oswlld]

Eight (8) Shows to Get to Know Me

tagged by @talays-portkey ♥ ty for tagging me and having me walk down memory lane for the past few days (spent too much time in all the tags microdosing on my upbringing)

DISCLAIMER: i wanted to showcase defining eras in my life/made an impact in a substantial way; i’m also recommending an ep to watch with each one, which isn’t part of the tag format but imma do it

--

i. LOST (2004-2010)

this was my whole world for my entire hs existence and into my early college years. half of the shows listed here stems from my first love of the ensemble cast, their interwoven yet clandestine storylines, and the mystery box. at my first sdcc, half of the cast was present when they debuted p1 of the series finale (you’d think i was dead the whole time fksfsk;lv)

the jessi special: The Constant (04x05)

ii. Fringe (2008-2013)

yes, i faithfully followed jj abrams into another insane show. i think it actually altered my brain chemistry, rewired something in me, devoured a piece of me. once LOST was over and Fringe brought in the alternate universe, i dove in head first and never resurfaced

the jessi special: Making Angels (04x11)

iii. Doctor Who (2005-Present)

i think it was technically winter 2010 when i started binging this show because s6 was my first time catching it live (was young and naïve, i caught it on bbca lol) ive been on hellsite for almost two years at the time and fully became a fandom blog, so it was inevitable i would love this series. i think it was the first show i made gifs/edits for???

the jessi special: The Doctor’s Wife (06x04)

iv. Lizzie Bennet Diaries (2012-2013)

oh look, my dna makeup shifts again. i actually started watching this show the week leading up to Darcy Day and can still vividly remember the migraines from binging 8-10min eps times 60ish worth of content. this show got me into writing my first fic, running an rp blog, creating instrumental playlists, making a DWxLBD blog, AND eventually flying my ass back to CA to meet the cast and beloved mutuals at VidCon

the jessi special: A New Buddy (ep56)

v. Orphan Black (2013-2017)

happy international women’s day to this show and this show only! i think of all the shows listed here, this is the first time since LOST i caught all the eps in real time from the very beginning. this was filling the hole Fringe was about to carve deep in me. but if you cut me open, you will find the beth-shaped hole that nothing/no one has been able to fill and likely will never fill til the end of time

the jessi special: The Collapse of Nature (04x01)

vi. Shadowhunters (2016-2019)

im willing to admit that the reason i got into this show was because of the wedding kiss haha i saw the clip, signed the adoption papers on the spot, and went on to write a 100K+ wip series. admittedly, i confess that this was a DNF and never finished the last season... i abandoned my boy.gif

the jessi special: Of Men and Angels (01x06)

vii. Sense8 (2015-2018)

a show about eight children than i gave birth to, that i raised on my own, that i will defend on my death bed and beyond??? that show sense8?? yes that show sense8. fun fact, when they did the screening of the finale in Chicago, the cast ended up sitting three rows behind me in the theater and i could hear them talking in between scenes the entire evening. wish i could bottle that feeling up

the jessi special: I Have No Room in My Heart for Hate (02x07)

viii. Bad Buddy (2021-2022)

and we finally made it to the current decade! its nov 2021, im fresh off leaving my previous job and still getting situated in my new position, yet this show was a siren calling to me in the dark mist of my life. i ended up saving the binge watching for the week of my bday and my whole life shifted again. it must have been so alarming on the outside, seeing me go from making 1-2 edits a month to 1-2 edits a day for almost THREE MONTHS. the fact that i still cont to avg two edits/week since then... oy lol

the jessi special: Ep10 (shocked pikachu.jpg)

and ill also throw some honorable mentions too: Chuck, The Good Place, Vice Versa, Twenty Five Twenty One, Once Upon a Time, and Elementary

--

now tagging @pranink, @icouldhyperfixatehim, @noxclara, @curious-earth (no pressure tho!)

[matan4il]

Hi!!! I was your anon a few weeks ago who asked about queer coding and Eddie's line of it's fine and easy with Anna. I was curious about one more aspect and your opinion.

So to get to my ask, I just need to state that shipping aside, I truly just as a viewer believe Buck is bi and Eddie is either gay or demi sexual . Like their traits have always screamed it to me, Buck longer than Eddie. Even if they don't end up together, I believe this about them.

So when that occurred, I admit I was kind of heartbroken. Listen, I have been on the other side of unrequited affection because it was a personality trait. But it wasn't anything about biology, you know? In essence, something I can't change about myself.

Is it weird that for me personally, I view them as a tiny bit tragic if they never figure it out. Like you're each other's favorite people, but you just don't think the other is an option because you're the same sex? It's not just 2 stubborn straight people being oblivious. They have had to watch each other with other partners for years and just take what they can get, you know?

It honestly makes me want to hug them both because they have probably had such dilemmas in their head.

Hi Nonnie, it’s good to hear from you again! *hugs* I hope you’re doing good? And that my answer back then was helpful!

So when it comes to sexual orientation or how characters identify, I think almost every interpretation right now is valid. Which means I fully support you in yours. I’m sorry you’ve had that type of unrequited love! I know how much it hurts. And yeah, if Buck and Eddie never did figure it out, it would be tragic. IDK if the biggest tragedy ever, if they still had each other, were still the most important person in each other’s lives, and still got to have their little family together. Having 70% of something incredible, even if it’s not the mind-blowing reality of having 100% of it (and how they SHOULD have 100% of it since they’re so clearly it for each other in equal measures), is still better than having nothing, you know? But here’s the thing, if that’s where the show leaves them, in my mind, they would figure it out at some point. It would just be inevitable. It might be at a point in their lives after the final ep of 911 airs, but they will at some point have that realization and discover just how deeply and in every possible way they truly love each other. And then they’d get together. And then they’d probably have to fix the walls in Eddie’s bedroom for a completely different reason than when they did in 518. ;)

You can look at it as just my wishful thinking, but I just can’t see them so fully sharing themselves and their hearts with each other for the rest of their lives without figuring it out at some point and getting together properly. And I have written a tragic fic based on the unrequited premise once, Soulmate, Dry Your Eye. I broke my own damn heart when I wrote it. But then I also wrote an alternate ending. Because canonically? 911 is not a tragedy. So neither are Buddie. They might be slow, but they’ll never be a lost cause...

Hope this helps, lovely! Have a great day. As always, here’s my ask tag. xoxox

[avitus-ostrander]

A question about your fic (or two): a) What about the state of Knives' hair color in the au? b) I wonder what Vash doing the entire time, it feels like he would have tried to track Knives fown but- I suppose it's a spoiler, right? c) I cannot wait for Legato to have the revelation that Knives' brand of issues is actually bit more specific than what he has in mind which is not a question but still should be included.

Hello and thank you for your question! a) The hair question will be somewhat answered in chapter 3 (which I believe I should be able to post later today or tomorrow) b) This is a spoiler, so I can't give many details, but there is a reason and it will be revealed in chapter 4! c) This realization will come eventually! Thank you for your interest! I really appreciate it! I've never gotten an ask about something like this before!

Hello! Good to hear! The hair color question came up because of how Reily seemed to be split between 'horribly exploitative and abusive and pretty explicit about his intent to drain fully Knives one day' and 'kinda appreciating Knives' appearance insomuch as he mentioned hair color not darkening specifically'

That makes sense! I can definitely see why you’d be curious about where that leaves Knives. I admit that I was a bit torn on how to handle this myself, because of the reasons you’ve mentioned.

Hopefully your questions will all be answered in a satisfactory manner in the not-too-distant future! Sorry that I can’t do more at this time!

Will we have Legato pov in the fic?

There will be at least two scenes from his POV. Maybe more, depending on a few things.

I had initially planned to alternate POV every chapter, but it didn’t quite end up working out that way.

It is interesting how au Legato seems to grow progressively more distressed over struggling to help Knives, to figure out helping Knives in spite of clearly having experience on what someone in similar situation would need (i mean, it was pretty good in that regard, a contrast between Legato being 'competent' in such situation and how some things still were not exactly something he knew how to deal with without actually diminishing on the first front) - he clearly seems to see himself, at least to a degree in Knives, but also I suppose Knives is more… well… he seems to have things to live for? Even if right now his spirit is a thing that was trampled over again and again. But back to Legato. I especially liked the moment where it must have looked as if Knives was starving himself - not on purpose - but still.

Yes. He has an idea of what he thinks he should do, but it’s difficult to figure out exactly how to handle someone like Knives, especially since he doesn’t have all the information he needs.

I can’t comment too much on some of this, since it could potentially get into spoiler territory, but I appreciate the extra comments!

Took me a while to get to this because I was finishing up editing chapter 3, which is up now. Thank you again for your comments and interest!

Having read the new chapter, I find it almost precious how Knives is afraid of Legato's powers not because of Legato but because humans terrify him due to shitton of trauma. Their interactions in general are awkward but oddly compelling Another thing is, the moment it starts dawning on Legato what exactly is wrong with the collar- and once he learns that it actually does serve to 'control' Knives! I really would have liked to know what exactly went through his head at this moment. And he doesn't yet know about the draining! Finally, uh. Knives' thought processes regarding Rem in all chapters. The fact the betrayal, the implication of guilt, he misses her, he cannot forgive, he is so so not okay about his mother figure.

Thank you! Hopefully you liked the new chapter. I need to take a short sanity break, but then I will get to work on the next one.

I really wish it was easier to give both characters’ thoughts during a scene. There are definitely some things going on in Legato’s head there. Maybe at some point I can compile a series of alternate POV scenes or something. I’ll see how that goes. Legato is harder for me to write at this point in the story, because his behaviors are pushing the narrative along in a lot more subtle ways compared to Knives.

Knives is definitely not okay about Rem. In so many ways.

Sorry to keep you waiting on a response - I had to get some sleep!

Hope it is not spam, pretty funny how Legato seems to... gradually accept (resign to the fact) that Knives just doesn't eat much at all. Probably still internally suffering but at least he doesn't seem to have anything like that reaction in the tank room any longer.

No worries - I’m very flattered!

Legato definitely realizes something is up and he doesn’t love it, but he’s doing his best not to push Knives too much and make him pull away.

Wait during the collar scene Legato remembers how the collar flared up when he brought Knives to the plants for the first time doesn't he

The way it acted up didn’t sound the same to Legato as it did to Knives, because it was specifically trying to interfere with Knives’ ability to communicate. I may make that a little more clear in a future chapter when they learn more about how it works.

This was vaguely alluded to in chapter 1, but their plant died from overuse, so they needed a new one. They don’t necessarily have a plant engineer living there because they need one. Reilly lives there to avoid drawing attention to himself and travels for work as needed.

What Legato knew or didn’t know about this will be brought up later though!

I mean, of course the old plant has died but it is implied that Knives was stuck there for a while, right? He was still used for plant purposes, despite the tank being generally left empty. If Legato wiped everyone out, it is not impossible to assume he considered finding the local plant and then just assumed she died some time before (i am not the most observant person tbh)

No worries! You are correct. Knives was their primary power source during the time he was there.

You will get to learn more about what Legato thought about the local plant (or lack of one) later on.

Do you think it would have been harder for au Knives to trust Legato if Legato discovered Knives' planthood from the get-go? (idk how, maybe when Legato came to do mass-murder, he found Kni stuck in the Plant Exploitation Jar). (though idk the sight of the five plants doing okay in their collective jar would have still likely helped a lot)

I think it might have been, since part of his fear of humans stems from what happened with Tesla. Even if he felt pretty certain that Legato respected plants in general, he might worry that being an independent plant would change things.

I think he might have worried that Legato could see him as a threat or just for some reason thought less of him. Considering that there are people (in Trigun Stampede at least) who had no problem with regular plants but found the independent plants repulsive.

[ranaspkillnarieth]

Writer’s Game: First Sentence

Writer's game: first sentences!

I got tagged by @pikapeppa and am tagging @junos-office-drama , @cranky-kyrati , @minaminokyoko and anyone else who sees this and would like to play -- feel free to tag back so I can peek at your writing! 👀

Rules: post the first sentence of your last ten fics. If you haven't written ten fics, share as many first-sentences as you have.

I always enjoy doing this one -- it's fun to see if your first lines follow any specific patterns!

************

Rorrim Rorrim (crackfic sequel dedicated to Pikapeppa)

Tamaris groaned. 

2. Courses  (Pathfinder RPG smutfest with a heaping side of angst and healing)

They arrive at the capital city Egorian via Teleporter.

3. Helpmeet  (Darksun D&D prequel to Pieces of You, fluff)

  The landscape undulates before him, dying sun hammering down on the anvil of the sands.

4.Filled with Silver and Fire (reader/Loki fixit because he does NOT get killed by Thanos, fuckyouverramuch)

You fully admit you've fucked up.  

5. Alternate Courses  (AU of Courses chapter 3, where Sebastian gives in to his urges)

"Alright luv, no more teasin'.' 

6. Breather (Bloodborn canon-compliant ficlet from the pov of Gilbert)

"Oh you must be a Hunter, and not one from around here either.”

7. A Vision in the Shallows  (Castlevania modern fantasy AU from the pov of an original character, based on an alternate version of Alucard that I saw, go to the end of the fic to see it)

I stare at the director with my best stink eye.

8. Pieces of You  (Darksun D&D good fandom blind, utter fluff)

Four sets of nimble chitinous fingers rifled through a backpack that didn't belong to her.  

9. Searching for Answers (Pathfinder rpg, follows Corco as a young adventurer)

She had been traveling for weeks now, ever Southward.

10. Filled with Silver and Fire (What If?)  (A What If version of the Loki/reader AU that’s a delve into fucking  -literally- Jotun Loki)

The day the aliens invaded turned out to be pretty awesome. 

And as a bonus, from my Sci-Fi WIP that's not yet posted

Dear Diary, it's been a long, long, LONG time since I wrote in you, but since you have no concept of time I'm sure you forgive me.