#but the opportunity has been taken from me

[barcaatthemoon]

“i’d like u to spend the week with me” , lucy bronze :)

communicative || lucy bronze x reader ||

Getting back together with Lucy was weird. It had been almost 15 year since you had broken up. Both of you had been through a lot since then and had many opportunities to become different people. And in some ways, you were both completely different, but some things never changed. It seemed like there were some habits neither of you could shake, and for Lucy, the one that stuck out the most was how pouty she tended to get.

"Stop looking at me like that," you said as you glanced at Lucy's reflection. You were getting ready for your first little interview since you'd announced as the head coach for England's rugby team.

"Like what? I'm not doing anything, that's just my face," Lucy huffed. You turned around to fully face her, knowing that wasn't the case. Lucy was pouting at you, just like she had been since you told her that you were going back to your place at the end of today.

"No, you're pouting because you want something that you're too proud to admit. I won't play this guessing game anymore, just say what you want from me," you told her. Lucy glanced down for a moment, almost like she was embarrassed. "Come on, we both have to communicate, and now it's your turn."

"I don't want you to leave. It's like you just got here, and so much of your time has been taken up by everybody else. I'd like you to spend the week with me, that's all." Lucy bit her lip as she waited for your reaction. The first time around, Lucy had been terrified of being clingy with you, so she pushed you away. You were secure enough in yourself now that she couldn't do that, not when it had factored so heavily into your breakup before.

"I still have to run home and grab some clothes, but I'll come back. Better yet, you can take me tomorrow after your practice is over. See how easy it is to get your way when you don't act like a little baby?" you asked teasingly. Lucy scoffed and sat up to tug you into bed with her. She was about to try and make out with you, but you reluctantly stopped her. "I'm not redoing my makeup, nor do I trust you to fix what you fuck up."

"Fine, but I want kisses when you're done."

[jesncin]

The Potential of Asian Lois Lane: An extra addition

A bonus addition to my Asian Lois essay. I know Lois Chaudhari isn't technically a Lois since the premise of the comic she's from is where the Superman mythos is fictional and the characters in it happen to be named Clark/Lois etc. But since she's a Lois stand in and romantic partner to the Clark Kent of that story, I figured she deserves an honorable mention at least.

Here's where I position her in my Spectrum of Asian Lois Lane chart. And I'd like to talk about her!

Compared to American Alien, this Lois is actually specific and textually Indian in Superman: Secret Identity. Unlike American Alien Lois (that never specified what kind of Asian Lois was), she can't be replaced as a white woman because the text acknowledges her Indian identity (her name, lines of dialogue like this, etc.) hence she's not interchangeable with whiteness. So this take has that going for it.

Where Lois Chaudhari still falls behind Girl Taking Over (and what it shares in common with American Alien) is yet again a sense of missed opportunities narratively.

In Superman: Secret Identity, a man named Clark Kent from Picketsville suddenly has Superman's powers. After years of being made fun of for his namesake, he suddenly is what everyone has been making fun of him for- and as he lives through life he slowly understands why fictional!Superman is the way he is. It's a great story but where it misses the mark for me is its failure to recognize Superman as an immigrant. Secret Identity's Clark isn't an alien immigrant, or a human immigrant, and is instead ostracized because of his name. Government baddies want to do experiments on him so he has to hide from them too. But then he meets city girl Lois Chaudhari, and they connect because people keep teasing them for their names and Lois knows what it's like to keep secrets because she,,, committed a crime as a teen once.

"I guess we're both dangerous felons, then. Public menaces."

Being hunted by the government and being experimented on isn't really the same as being caught shoplifting.

It works well enough as a connection but to me is a huge missed opportunity to have an Indian American relate to your Superman stand-in as an immigrant. To connect on a deeper level other than "people make fun of us for sharing names with fictional characters". Later in the story, Clark and Lois have twin daughters who are visibly Indian. They too, have Superman's powers. While we're treated extensively to the narrative showing us why Clark would hide his powers from the government wishing to seek harm on him, we never get to see what Clark's daughters have to deal with on top of being visibly non-white.

Superman as an alien immigrant is an anecdote in this story. Because after all, that's not what a white American man from Picketsville would find relatable about him, is it? I have the same thing to say about Secret Identity that I did with American Alien: "Clark isn’t the only American Alien in American Alien, if you catch my drift."

I think this story is the perfect encapsulation of the limits of a white writer. One of my hottest takes on Superman is that the best and most holistic take on his character doesn't exist in the white imagination. Take a look once more at the Spectrum of Asian Lois Lanes chart that I made. All save for Girl Taking Over were headed by white men (MAWS may have Asian directors and writers on their team but ultimately its pitch and main ideas are the brain child of Jake Wyatt, a white man).

People have taken issue with me saying this and assume that I mean white people can't write a good Superman story, and no. That's not what I'm saying. I like Superman: Secret Identity. I even like American Alien. But it's been 80 years of predominantly white writers of all backgrounds getting the chance to write Superman- and already multiple attempts at an Asian Lois- and yet it took until Gene Yang (and artists Gurihiru) with Smashes the Klan and Sarah Kuhn (and artist Arielle Jovellanos) with Girl Taking Over that I felt Superman's themes as an immigrant finally took center stage and weren't just a mention or anecdote.

In no way do I want to imply that getting writers of color or Asian writers specifically will mean you'll be guaranteed a great Superman story. I'm against promoting the idea that diverse talent is infallible or tokenizing and essentializing them in such a way. What I am saying is that the best and most holistic story on Superman as an alien immigrant isn't even a goal in the white imagination. Immigrant Superman doesn't live in that mind. He doesn't pay rent there. He doesn't stop by to visit. And no, Superman creators Shuster and Siegel wouldn't have written that story either. Superman may have been the "Champion of the Oppressed" from another planet under their pen, but he would never have related to or have had immigrant solidarity with America's perpetual foreigners the way Smashes the Klan portrayed him as having. Superman's creators were too busy writing Slam Bradley to be able to write that kind of Superman.

The appeal of these cape characters for me, is the process of adaptation. Seeing them be handed off to someone else with different life experience. Seeing them bring a whole new perspective that surpasses even the creator's intentions on their character. That's what makes these characters rich and worthy of constant revisits. I just think that people of different backgrounds should be able to get as many chances as white men have with writing Superman and his cast of characters.

[fraugwinska]

Giveaway 2nd Prize Winner Piece

Hello my loves! Our darling @lil-glum, who won myy 2nd prize in the 1k Follower giveaway, has graciously allowed me to share the finished piece with you all! It was a delight to work with her - and her ideas were so good that writing this felt less like work and all the more like a treat! <3 So much so that I, in fact, went a bit overboard with the word count! ;> As usual: Minors DNI or I'll curse you to always have moist socks!

Paint the Town Red

For weeks now, Alastor had stalked out that little human like a vulture, circling high above the oblivious prey and waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. Revisiting the living world should've been a glorious occasion, since summonings were becoming so rare nowadays, but that moron who dared to call on him hadn't been worth his while - but she was.

Luck and curse had it that he didn't have to return to hell right after the laughably one-sided deal was striked, leaving him time enough to put a little glamor on to stroll around town in his earthly disguise, freshly brewed coffee in hand, and see what humanity had been up to since his demise. The world had become frivolous, no class at all, and Alastor had felt at ease knowing that he had lived at the peak of culture and manners, never to be bettered.

And then she ran into him. Deeply immersed in a book - not those audacious electronic devices people put their nose in every waking hour - she'd rounded the corner while Alastor gawked around, lost to the world captured on the yellowed pages. A head full of red, silky locks had bumped into his chest and the book as well as his coffee dropped, the former to be saved by his quick reflexes. A simple flick of his wrist, and the book was back in her hand, while his cup of java laid spilled in a muddy puddle between their feet.

"Oh! Oh no - I'm so sorry! I wasn't paying attention!" she'd said, pushing her glasses back her nose as she smiled up to him apologetically, and when Alastor met her eyes, something shifted. And just like that, the hunt was on.

"No harm done, darling. The coffee was poorly done anyway."

Since time was running out, he turned up his charm to at least get the girl's name and maybe another meeting out of the encounter, already planning on ways to return. Thankfully, she'd given it all too gladly, and promised to invite him for coffee as an apology for the spilled one. He'd taken the sound of her name into his hands like the greatest treasure, repeating it over and over in his mind as he was being dragged back to the afterlife tasting each vowel and consonant. Hunting down an indebted incubus and acquiring its asmodean crystal had been as easy as working out how to use it. And oh - did he use it.

His absence from his duties in the hotel became more and more obvious, but Alastor couldn't stop himself. It wasn't even the thrill of the chase that kept him going. Every time he saw her, it was as if her mere presence called out to an unknown part of him, as if her voice was a siren's call, as if her scent was a drug created just for him. He couldn't stop himself from thinking about her: The delightful way she laughed at his quips. The elegant way she spoke about her interests. The way she brushed her fiery hair back over her shoulder when she was nervous…

Alastor wanted it all, and he wanted her.

"Alastor, are you listening at all?" she smiled at him, pulling him out of his raging thoughts.

"My apologies, dear, I was merely...distracted. Please do repeat yourself." he cleared his throat and gave her a wide grin. The abandoned park they walked in was tinted in oranges, greens and browns, little specks of autumn's palette so becoming to her complexion.

"I was saying that I don't really feel like going back home yet. How about we take a detour - explore a little?" she proposed, pointing down to a small trail that led away from the main road, lined with trees and shrubbery, "There's supposed to be a pond around there, and I think it would be nice to enjoy your company a little longer."

Alastors ears perked up and his smile widened, threatening to mirror the one he always wore down in hell. She wanted to be alone with him, far away from prying eyes - that wonderful, naive thing.

"That sounds delightful, my dearest - lead the way!"

His mind was running wild with possibilities as he followed her down the path, watching her red locks bounce as she hopped down the sloping ground. How much she trusted him was as endearing as it was thrilling, and the urge to reach out and take her by the arm to pull her into his own grew with every step he took, the demon in him aching for a taste of her. He wasn't one to rush good things, and he wanted to enjoy this, make it last as long as he could, savor every moment of the inevitable fall.

She was chattering away happily, unaware of the obsessive way he watched her. Her hips swayed hypnotically, the hem of her wool skirt grazing her thighs ever so slightly, and Alastor wondered if the flush of her cheeks from the cool autumn air would be found elsewhere on her delectable body, too. He knew he had to control himself, but with his desire burning hot like the flames of his true home, Alastor struggled.

Finally, they reached the small pond and she turned around to him, beaming with accomplishment. The sight of it, of her prideful smile and trusting eyes so enthrallingly focused on him was too much, and whatever she was about to say was swallowed by his lips crashing into hers. His gloved hands held her face firmly as he pushed her against a tree, the bark scratching into the back of her coat. He had wanted this for so long, the feeling of her soft lips moving against his, her hands clawing at his shoulders, indecisive on whether to pull him closer or push him away. She gasped into the kiss and Alastor took the chance to push his tongue inside, swallowing her moan as apparently made up her mind, tugging at his coat as he finally devoured her.

It was entirely, decidedly too much: The warmth of her, the taste, the touches, the sounds, he couldn't get enough of it, couldn't get close enough. With ferocity, he got rid of every offending layer of obstructive clothing, reveling in the way she breathed his name, pleading to the deity that couldn't care for mercy and to him to ruin her. And he gladly granted her wish, benevolent as he was, his lips trailing down her neck, teeth nipping at her collarbone, tongue laving over her exposed breasts as his hands stroked up her legs, fingers disappearing under her skirt to brush against her core.

"Please, Alastor - oh!" she whimpered when he pushed a finger inside her wet cunt, the tight heat making him growl in approval. He wanted her to beg, he wanted her to cry, wanted her to break down before him and ask him for salvation. His glamor flickered, struggling to hold against the loss of control.

"Look at you, my dear, so eager, so wanting," he crooned as he pushed another finger inside her, watching her back arch from the tree, her body seeking out his hands like a magnetic pull. Brown hair slowly turned red, antlers sprouting from its crown, his modest gray coat faded into his signature crimson pinstriped frock, and she gasped into his hungry mouth as he let the grip on his magic go and revealed himself completely as the demonic overlord that he was. Alastor, the Radio Demon, laughed, licking along her jaw as he slowly increased the pace of his claws, earning another sweet sound of shocked pleasure from his little, confused human.

“Don’t let my true form deceive you, my darling - No matter what happens… I’ll make sure you see heaven.”

[trendywaifus]

Okay, but what about female reader accidental pregnancy by Ruan Mei? How would she react and deal with it? That's always been a thought in my head dunno why

That’s interesting! I feel like ruan mei would be a bit taken back because she’s very well educated about the in’s and out’s of pregnancy. ruan mei made sure she was extremely careful about not getting you pregnant and it seemed like her efforts failed.

the real question is, will ruan mei accept it? yes! this is an opportunity to study and nurture human life from a baby to an adult which is something she has really never done before. although, she’s at a loss when it comes to loving it because she herself struggles with her emotions and expressing them. ruan mei knows that humans thrive and grow from love and support and yet, she can’t really give that to the child. whichhh is whyyy you’re here to help her! like always, you teach ruan mei how to hold a baby, how to tell him/her that you love him/her —how to connect with him/her. when the baby gives ruan mei a smile full of nothing but gums, she finds herself smiling back with unexpected warmth in her stiff heart.

little by little, ruan mei becomes more knowing and less ignorant towards emotions like love, anger, and sadness. she’s gaining a better grasp of humanity through her child and learns about positive and negative feedback. if her baby is happy, she’s happy. how do you make a baby happy? by playing with them, buying them toys and games to help develop important skills like problem solving and critical thinking. when the baby first cried, she was at a lost and didn’t know what to do. that’s until you picked the crying baby up in your arms, gently rocked them, and cooed. ruan mei closely observes how the baby slowly stopped crying over time and became content from your gentle comfort. the first two times the baby cried, albeit awkward, she copied the exact gesture you did and she couldn’t quite get it. so she started simply humming a tune she often plays with her ruan. and just like that, the baby calms over time and appears nearly asleep. ruan mei concludes that the baby simmers down according to the specific parent’s style of comfort. the problem was that she tried to comfort the baby your way and it didn’t recognize her as you so it continued to cry. when ruan mei began to do it her own way through humming, the infant eventually adapts and recognizes her.

ruan mei would def do operant conditioning to learn more about the child’s behavior. i feel like she’d only reach out to the genius society members she’s in contact with for tips ( which is funny cus just like her, most of the genius society members are socially awkward ) at least screwllum tries to help. herta. .☠️

lol, the baby called ruan mei their mama for the first time which was also their first word. let me tell you, ruan mei felt the happiest she’s ever been. she got so overwhelmed by the pure feeling, she cried for the first time. a tear rolling down her face as she stared down at the giggling baby in shock! such a heart warming sight to be witnessed by you!!

all in all, ruan mei reconnects with her humanity more through her child and grows wit them! i think in this case ruan mei would be the child and the baby would be her teacher without even knowing it 😭 just know the child is gonna be a momma’s boy

sorry I rambled so much! this psychological study is sponsoreddddd byyyyyyyy. @crguang !!!

[aziraphales-library]

this is going to sound slightly stupid i’m begging you to bear with me

you know those fanfics from like 2013, the rpf’s that (usually) were about musicians like harry styles or brenden urie?

they’d go something along the lines of, ‘not-like-other-girls’ sitting in the crowd of a concert her friend dragged her out to, but she just doesn’t care about the music it’s so not her thing so she reads a book during the concert (cue the groans). then the lead singer sees her and is totally taken by her uniqueness and calls her out from the stage or asks to see her after the show yada yada.

anyway, i saw some fan art of rockstar!crowley and normie!aziraphale, and i thought it’d be fun to see if there’s anything similar to those kinds of rpf’s but instead for crowley and aziraphale!

We have a #famous crowley tag you can check out. Here are some fics in which Crowley is famous and Aziraphale is not...

A rockstar's love by The_boxhead (G)

Crowley had a lot of problems finding someone to have a relationship with as the famous rockstar that he is. But that day when he entered that coffee shop and saw that blond haired man behind the counter, he didn’t want more than to get to know that beautiful angel with that cute smile.

Star Crossed by AppleSeeds (T)

When Crowley, the lead singer of wildly successful rock band The Sixth Circle, agrees to take part in a radio show discussion feature, the last thing he expects is to come away from it completely smitten with a man who must be the world's most adorable magician. Crowley's uncharacteristic behaviour towards Aziraphale during the show doesn't go unnoticed by the listeners, with speculation soon running rife online. Only one thing for it - Crowley just needs to engineer an opportunity to see Aziraphale again. All in the name of generating publicity, of course.

Never Too Late by AppleSeeds (T)

It's been thirty-five years since the height of Aziraphale's enormous crush on rockstar Anthony Crowley, but when he sees that Anthony is still performing, Aziraphale feels he owes it to his younger self not to pass up the opportunity to finally hear him sing live. The last thing he expects is for Anthony to actually approach him once the concert is over, extending an invitation that surpasses every fantasy Aziraphale harboured about him as a young man and resulting in the most memorable night of his life.

The Only One I Still Know How to See by Furuba_Fangirl (E)

Aziraphale has been an admirer of Anthony J. Crowley for years. However, the gap between audience member and stage actor begins to thin when they are given the chance to officially meet.

Soho by Lurlur (E)

Aziraphale lives a quiet kind of life, running a quiet specialist bookshop in one of the liveliest districts of London. He's content with his lot, happy with his friends, tolerant of his probably-human housemate, living vicariously through the gossip pages. One day, a chance encounter with Anthony Crowley, lead singer of wildly successful rock band The Demons, threatens to turn his whole world upside down.

Find the Light by klikandtuna (E)

I saw a collection of gifs on tumblr combining David Tennant as a rock star and Michael Sheen as a school headmaster (see the notes of Chapter 1 for a link to the post!) and someone said that it ought to be a fic, sooooo I've made it a fic. Here's a heapin' helping of rock-star Crowley and headmaster Aziraphale! Now with shiny new cover art, also by me!

Win a Date With Anthony J. Crowley! by Caedmon (E)

Crowley is a world-famous rock star who sells out arenas. His name is synonymous with 'rock-n-roll', and he thrives on the spotlight. When he agrees to raffle off a date with himself for charity, he's expecting to meet an overzealous fan that wants to wear his skin and very well might try to roofie him. What he's not expecting is to be instantly attracted to the quiet man with the unusual name who shows up for the date at the Ritz... and he's certainly not expecting for Aziraphale to have no clue who he is...

- Mod D

[crazylittlejester]

*points at what you said in Sunny’s ask about hair stuff (which are all wonderful and yes) and Wars bleaching and straightening his hair*

Silly or Hero-warship previous mostly blond heroes gotta look the part perfect soldier image peer pressure whatever? (Basically, silly little guy or sads?) (My brain immediately went to this but it kinda falls apart with some of the others in the chain having different hair colors (which, again awesome, curly hair Rulie and Wind my beloveds) but thought why not ask anyways)

Taking this as a Yap opportunity because it’s been so long since people have sent in asks about my Wars headcanons and I feel like I haven’t gotten to talk about this in a while >:) SO THANK YOU FOR THIS

edit: apologies if theres any spelling mistakes im dyslexic but also just an idiot

So I hc Wars came from a very small village on the outskirts of the kingdom and when he got to Castletown and joined the army things were very different, HE was very different. He didn’t feel like he fit in with them, so he tried his best to force himself to fit in which is why I hc he does a fake accent, a Castletown/British one so people assume he comes from there. The way people view him is very important to him because he worries if they don’t see him through the carefully crafted lens he’s set up for himself to be viewed through, people will not like him or they won’t think he’s worthy or they’ll think he’s pathetic and he can’t handle that. So everything about how he’s constructed and built himself, from his hair to his accent to his walk to his laugh, his smile, voice, posture, all of it is carefully and deliberately crafted so that his image and how he presents himself is consistent, reliable, and “hero worthy”

Him straightening and dyeing his hair was 100% because he saw the heroes of legend and realized he didn’t look like them. I hc the Hero of Time was a huge figure, and one of the most noted heroes in Wars’s era, so little Wars compared himself to that a LOT. (and I also hc he never knew Mask was the Hero of Time because the kid called himself the Hero of Masks because HE didn’t think he could live up to his own title.) He thought if he looked more like what the people of Hyrule envision the great hero to look like in their minds, he’d be taken much more seriously

Of course now, seven years after the war, after he’s had a lot of time to come to terms with things and start to heal, Warriors doesn’t feel the need to look like the other heroes in order to be worthy, and he realizes this before he even meets the others. But NOW he’s stuck because he hasn’t felt like himself or like he KNEW himself at all since he was like 14/15, and he’s nearly 28 now and after over a decade of being in the army or “Hero of Warriors”, he doesn’t really know HOW to be him. He’s not yet at a point where he can fully realize the only thing that’s going to make him happy is becoming himself again, he knows he feels more relaxed when he feels safe but hes not really aware of how much his guard drops and how his act disappears when he’s completely at peace. He feels like he needs to keep playing this character of himself he’s made, and that includes keeping up appearances

He’s getting better about relaxing how strict he is with himself, he’ll allow himself lazy mornings where he doesn’t straighten his hair or do his makeup, but he almost obsessively dyes his hair and that’s the last thing he’ll stop doing, because I hc he looks VERY much like his mother and where he’s at right now, he couldn’t handle seeing that. (I hc his mother is alive, and so are all the sisters i hc he has, and they haven’t seen him since he left all those years ago because he feels like he CANNOT go back because hes so different now and he cannot handle the idea that home wouldnt feel like home anymore because he’s become a monster at war and he wont belong there anymore. He still writes home, and keeps in contact, and he’s seen Linkle (his twin), but he can’t bring himself to see his mother in his own face or just go home until he relearns who he actually is)

*wet cough* sorry for the yap 🥺 i have a lot of thoughts and he’s my special guy and this is how I characterize him in my writing (unless its an au or a specific other thing) so i think about him a LOT

if anyone is interested in this characterization of him heres a link to my main Wars series:

*collapses and dies*

[opossumprints]

You're Weird--Im Weirder Pt. 4

part 1, part 2, part 3,

Steve has a decision to make. 

The last time he gave a gift to Eddie, he was in a bit of a panic. He had a tiny window of opportunity last time because the object of his attraction was too far away to be safe about it. The whole ordeal almost ended in disaster and with Steve without his favorite pair of shorts. He was lucky, Eddie went off somewhere and Steve got lucky. Steve would be damned to be caught off guard again. 

That still leaves him with options. Due to the slightly more flirty nature of last time’s pair, Steve’s slow increase in his teasing had jumped forward in the planned escalation. Either Steve pretends it didn't happen or… 

Steve could try to rile Eddie up. The idea makes him warm and wriggly, and he has the perfect pair to get the job done.

When Steve took Robin out to replace last week’s casualty, he walked away with a bit more than planned.  The new pair are more reminiscent of girls' panties than shorts, high cut with dainty patterns. In truth they’re one of the few pairs that make Steve blush. 

If all goes well Steve might even land himself a date. 

When Sunday rolls around Steve is prepared. Sudsy’s is near completely empty today, Eddie is there of course chatting politely to the laundromat’s owner Pam. Steve takes a deep breath before entering and waves jollily at the pair. 

So far so good. Steve manages to secure the machine next to Eddie’s (it's easy to tell with the sheer amount of band tees) and hurriedly starts the first load. That’s the easy part. The trick is a carefully timed tug below the waistband of his jeans as he bends down to dump in e washing soda. When he leans back Steve slips his thumbs into the waistband and stealthily two thin and dainty straps over his hips. 

After readjusting his shirt Steve is certain that it’s not noticeable to the average passer-by unless Steve lets them notice. 

Now all Steve has to do is wait. 

It all has to play out perfectly, has to go just right, He can't afford another fumble. To keep himself in place and hopefully prevent him from doing anything stupid, Steve sits down in front of one of the empty machines.  

In a stroke of luck Eddie wanders over without prompting. Which considering how Steve wasn't able to actually get near Eddie last time is a nice improvement. 

Eddie is wearing the butchered remains of a plain black T-shirt. It’s been cut into a tank top with the sides cut low, it's even got a few artistically cut holes that show off peeks of skin that Steve is trying really hard not to stare at. Unfortunately redirecting his gaze leads to Steve staring at where the shirt has naturally ridden up and Eddie’s low swung sweatpants don’t cover.  

“Hey” Eddie says, voice gruff. Steve's head snaps up, fuck he’s caught. He must look startled because Eddie raises an eyebrow “good morning?” The way Eddie says in a kind of prompting, almost sarcastically demanding, tone makes something stir within Steve. He can imagine them out with friends and Eddie teasing him in that tone; say hello Stevie, be a good boy. Steve manages to save himself from further embarrassment and respond with his own good morning. 

“Sorry we didn't get to talk last week” Steve says after a beat, “you're really fun to talk to and I missed it” he smiles for good measure. Eddie’s eyebrows disappear even further into his hairline (which is mostly just impressive instead of sassy) and he grins slow and easy.

“Dwaww you missed me!” Eddie drawls teasingly, his tone reminiscent of someone talking to their dog when they get home. “Don’t let your buddies hear that or you’ll never hear peace.” 

Steve fights the blush trying to bloom across his cheeks and nods.

wait …

“What buddies?” Steve wonders. He tilts his head despide the twinge in his neck from looking both up and sideways. “Do you mean robin?” Seriously, who is Eddie talking about? Perhaps its the honest look in Steve’s eyes but Eddie is taken aback for a second before he shrugs so Steve lets it go.

The taller boy nudges Steve with his foot good naturedly before unloading his machine. It’s really nice to continue the routine of chatting while doing laundry together. 

If it weren't for Eddie pausing awkwardly mid conversation every once and a while (and the fact there is a very public very dingy laundromat) Steve can imagine them goofing off together in a home they share. It’s so easy to imagine them bumping hips while folding towels and distracting each other with kisses while loading the dryer. Steve can imagine how easy it would be for Eddie to lift him on to the machine and pin him in place so eddie can–

“Dude your loads done” Eddie (the real one) buts in to Steve’s day dream 

“Yeah it is” Steve breaths huskily 

“What?”

“What?” 

Steve looks up at Eddie and blinks up at him innocently. In a way it's just part of the plan, not at all Steve being a complete idiot, not one bit.  

The impromptu staring contest ends when Steve gracefully and elegantly clambers back up on two legs like a concussed baby deer. 

Steve pops open the laundry machine door and leans in to start grabbing clothes. Just as planned, his too loose shirt slides up (forward?) and reveals the criss cross straps over Steve’s hips. 

It's the boldest thing Steve has ever worn. From the front it's just a normal (if not incredibly skin tight) pair of pajama shorts, but the sides, the sides are a whole nother story. Instead of sides there is a lattice of straps that criss-cross up his thighs and over his hips, squeezing the softness that rests there. 

And now Eddie is getting an eyeful. 

Steve rights himself after unceremoniously plopping a handful of shirts and a sock back into his laundry basket and risks a glance at Eddie. The other boy is bright red and has his shoulders by his ears. Steve could pretend Eddie looks bashful if it weren't for the deep want he sees in the others eyes. Instead he throws the rest of the plan out the window.

The plan was to let Eddie sneak a peek before slipping away for a quick change so he could drop his gift in Eddie’s clothes. But why go through all that when Steve could just lean into his space, look at him through his lashes and wet his lips. 

“Hey Eddie?” Steve coos, blinking languidly, “I really like when we hang out” he shifts even closer to Eddie to bring them nose to nose. Steve can feel Eddie's breath catch in his chest and grins sweetly. “Do you want to come to my place? Nobody’s home so I would love to have some company.” 

Apparently Eddie’s words are failing him because the boy nods rapidly and with enthusiasm instead. 

Later when they lay cuddled together in bed Steve thinks he could never be happier. Eddie lounges on his back with Steve draped over him, head resting on his chest, and with his arms wrapped around Eddie’s torso. 

“Hey Steve?” Eddie murmurs, running a hand up and down his lovers back idly tracing the constellations along his spine.

“Yeah?” he sighs dreamily in response. Steve turns his head to meet Eddie’s gaze and feels himself go gooey; he could stay like this forever. Being snuggled against the man he has loved from afar for so long feels so right. 

“I have something to tell you, and I really hope you can forgive me.” Eddie says cautiously. Oh no, Steve shifts onto his elbows and pushes himself to sit. 

Steve feels his worry pinch at his face and knit his eyebrows together. He worries his lip between his teeth for only a moment before he can bring himself to speak. 

“Eddie? what’s wrong?” Was he only an experiment for Eddie, is that what he's going to say? Is he going to be told this was a one time thing? Steve feels guilt tugging at his spine, Eddie is his own person Steve should respect it if that's the case not dread and despise the thought, should leave it be if that's what Eddie wants. 

Eddie steels himself with a steadying breath and meets Steve’s gaze. Eddie is trying to sooth him, rubbing up Steve’s arms and supporting his elbows. He’s so sweet; being open and honest and breaking his heart, but he’s still trying to help steve. Holding him and supporting him because he’s so sweet and he cares. Steve cares for him too, whatever he says Steve will honor because he cares for Eddie, loves him enough to let him go. 

“For the past couple weeks I have been stealing your underwear” 

Steve collapses in a fit of giggles. Oh he feels so bad but he does. He’s so relieved and it's so funny, he can't bring himself to feel sorry for Eddie’s confusion or for the noise he lets out when Steve’s weight plops back on top of him. 

Steve tilts his face and peppers happy kisses along Eddie's jaw. 

“Bu–but Stevie? You’re not mad?” 

Gleeful giggles bubble up from Steve’s chest once more 

“I’ve been giving them to you!” he gasps “of course i’m not mad!”

Eddie's hands are still in the air, supporting the memory of Steve's arms that just slipped from his gentle hold. 

“Are you trying to tell me that you, Steve Harrington, for the past several weeks have been slipping me your underwear!” Eddie blurts incredulously. 

“Yes!” Steve giggles “I was trying to flirt!” he knows Eddie cant see his eye roll but knows deep down Eddi can sense his amused exasperation. 

Eddie flounders a bit, flapping his mouth open and closed. 

“And they call me a freak!” Eddie is giggling now too.

“baby “ Steve smirks “your weird but I’m weirder”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I am so deeply, incredibly, sorry this took so long. The fanfic author curse kicked in and my internet tried to kick the bucket. I've been writing this thing in literally thirty-minute intervals because of that and I thought it was fixed but no! It took another two full days to get back on track. I managed in the end and got this part finished and that's all that I really care about in the end.

I really hope you guys enjoy it!

@slv-333, @jaytriesstrangerthings, @ajeff855, @stellasapiente, @croatoan-like-its-hot

[virtue-and-beneviolence]

All I want for Christmas is Shu~(ji)

[crybabyboyscout]

ଘ( ິ•ᆺ⃘• )ິଓ🔮🔱

[tariah23]

It’s always crazy to see black celebs spew this same rhetoric because it’s such a privileged take… like, they’ve been famous for so long and have gotten their money up, moved out of the projects or whatever tf, that they’ve forgotten what it’s like to be genuinely feel. It’s impossible for them to connect anymore. As far as the qrt, oh wow ☠️.

[justinefrischmanngf]

it’s not that it makes me sad per se but i really could’ve been dating someone i did actually kind of really want to date since JULY. and now the moment is literally so far gone and i didn’t realise until the moment was so far gone !!!

[orcelito]

Oh tho. Despite being at a concert at a bar with easy opportunity to have drinks. I looked at the menu as if I was gonna order anything, then thought to myself, "You don't drink anymore, hon" and went "Oh, right" then just got water.

So???? Given how matter of fact that thought was, maybe I really am fully sober from alcohol now. Interesting thought.

[theood]

Sorry to beat the dead horse I live in lately but I'm so tired. A break from social media probably could help. If I figure out how else to occupy my time doing absolutely nothing. It's what I say every fucking day. Just wish I had friends. People my age around here to talk too. Even younger. Anything. I'm so fucking lonely. I love everyone I talk to online, I have meaningful connections with so many of you but I also haven't had meaningful conversation IRL in idk. Years probably. I haven't seen any of my old friends because we moved and I had to isolate myself because no one really wanted to hang out with me or could get here. And I really don't do anything, I can't be stressed. I can't be depressed I can't. I can't. I can't. Just like every adult in my life says. I don't know. I just wish I could actually see it's going to get better. Be better for me

[daincrediblegg]

I hate it when I accidentally hit submit on the course eval for one of the classes I was most looking forward to critiquing for improvement when I had barely written anything 🙃

[rotturn]

every day on this trip is worse

[godslittlesadge]

was thinking about agnes montague and my spotify started playing her sweet kiss are you fucking kidding me