#i'm glad i already voted

[socctime]

I'm trying not to be, but I'm getting really scared about the upcoming election.

I'm worried about how much "they're both bad so why does it matter" and "just vote 3rd party" propaganda will affect the outcome. Because it's going to be very close either way.

[mechazushi]

It's FINISHED!!!!!

TA-DAAAAA!!!!

AND I MADE HIS *SS GLOW IN THE DARK!!!!!!!

So what possessed me to make this was that I went into a comic shop that me and my dad stop at when we get the chance because it's a little out of the way and as I'm at the counter paying for my manga haul that I managed to get away with, I look at the counter and buried under some candy was these Kaiju Number 8 stickers! They had the whole set and it was the only ones that they had, but they were 5 bucks a piece. I spent, like, a whole 30 seconds debating if I wanted to tack on another 30 bucks onto an already expensive haul before my brain went, "Uh, you can't break up a set, dumb*ss." So I ended up bying them anyway 🤣

I then ended up with Sticker Indecision (tm) and I couldn't commit to placing them anywhere. My laptop is already full, and my journal that I have for DnD is getting there + the stickers are kinda big so I don't think I could have fitted them on there anyway. I almost contemplated putting them on the side of my bookcase that faces my bed which led me to the bright idea to be an overdramatic idiot and make a WHOLE *SS TAPESTRY to house these stickers.

Sooooo..... yeah. My family thinks I'm insane now.

[self-shippy]

If any of your f/os have been or are in a poll tournament, imagine cheering them on! Your cheers give them the strength to push through and fight on!

[purplezeldana]

Readers, make sure you have all your favourite Ao3 fics downloaded.

Writers, make sure you have copies of all the fics you have posted on Ao3.

I don’t want to be alarming, but things could get really bad really fast. OTW shared this today on Twitter, and I'm a bit worried about it 😅

Ao3 is a non-profit organisation. If they have to start paying taxes, I have no idea what will happen.

Edit: I didn’t expect my post to go viral 🤯

I saw OTW's tweet and shared it here to warn my 25 followers (who are fic writers & readers) about it. I thought people from the US already knew this was happening, as the bill was been voted the day I made my post.

I'm not from the US, and I'm glad people are explaining the problem and how it will affect all non-profits in the quotes. I had no idea what the bill really entailed.

[nexus-nebulae]

getting so so fed up with the fact that i can't stop my phone from updating. it's killed my sleep tracker apps multiple times just bc of a stupid security update. it wakes me up in the middle of the night (today it was at 3:30am!) by turning on FULL BRIGHTNESS WHITE SCREENS (when i literally never ever go past even 10% brightness on this thing and often need MULTIPLE dimmer apps when the page is all white). on multiple occasions it's updating in the middle of watching a video or even in the middle of a brushstroke in an UNSAVED drawing. it disables every single notification until i interact with it so calls and alarms literally just don't go through whatsoever. it never warns me with a notification it just updates out of nowhere. it makes half of my apps super fucking buggy every time. i fucking hate technology nowadays why do i have to literally break my phone's warranty and fuck with its internals and possibly brick the entire device just so it doesn't disable my fucking alarms and force me to miss important calls and appointments THAT COST ME OVER 100$ ON NO-SHOW BTW

[strixcattus]

As the Sp3ctre theory advocate in the room I think it's rather obvious which I'm eagerly awaiting to see. Chain Princess my beloved, at least for the [2] more days in which I can be the sole proponent of this theory.

PRISTINE CUT IN 2 DAYS

[ishomieokay]

This is probably not the place to say this but whatever. The reason why there's so many women nowadays who are turning conservative, want to be tradwives and don't believe in 50/50 is that for 20 twenty years society has been teaching them that they have to be strong, independent and take the role of a provider while simultanously taking care of the household and the children.

Meanwhile, the men are not taking any new responsibilities. What's more, they are delegating their traditionally male responsibilities to women under the guise of being "femenist", which actually allows them to work LESS.

This was foreseen. Femenists have always known that this would happen. Don't believe me? Arlie Hohschild was already speaking about it in her 1989 book, The Second Shift. It's funny (and also kinda eerie) how well she describes today's society, although the book was literally written almost 30 years ago. We've progressed so little, in retrospective.

Anyway, fuck that. I shouldn't have to turn into a superhuman in order to fulfill someone else's political agenda, and neither should you! I'm not saying you need to vote conservative and I'm certainly not saying you will only ever be happy if you become a tradwife. But for God's sake, don't let men mistreat you this way. It's painful to watch!

I've read some fucking horror stories on the internet about these first world parasite-men just munching off of women, and I'm kinda glad in my country it's still not well seen for men to be anything else than providers. Sorry not sorry. I swear I'm not a Magazuelan 😭

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

Water is Thicker Than Blood Chapter 33

So neither deuce nor Yamato, im sorry to say :) but now i know NONE of you were expecting this guy (he is a canon character btw)

{Start} {Prev Next}

“Ass?” Is one of my fav gags that ive had saved up for a while, im glad its finally free!!!!

Everyone please read the keep reading :) 👇

I rigged it~

i bet you guys werent expecting i pull out one of the least known characters in all of One Piece for this silly little comic!

But~! ☝️

i do my research~~~

---

At the time of posting this, the results could not be closer, which has been a very thrilling ride for me to watch with Overseer Knowledge.

I'd say that those who voted 'Another Canon Character' get half credit, since no one guessed the character correctly. Who ever voted 'OC' also gets half credit, cuz i meann... This guy doesn't have a canon design. He doesn't even have a canon name! So even though he is a canon character, i am going to count him as a KOC (kinda Original Character)

---

Yamato Girlies, thank you for showing up [i hand you a bouquet of flowers, each] if it makes you feel any better, i already have Yamato content with design and headcanons galore in this post!

---

As for Deuce Girlies...

[i hand you guys bouquets as well]

im so sorry... but... I've never read the Ace Novels :D

I'm sure if i had, i would have put him in here somewhere as a major character, but I didnt, and i couldnt

it is very evident by the reactions i got on the post that yall are Starved For Deuce Content!

i designed a modern au look for him here just for you guys :)

---

I've put a lot of foreshadowing on who this guy is in the comic! I would love to point it all out, but i wanna see if you guys get it with hind sight :D

i will point it all out eventually though 👍 perhaps at the next SBS :)

---

Thank you all so much for being so invested in my silly little comic! it makes me really happy to see everyone get passionate about something I've been working really hard on!!!

This was all so much light hearted fun :) thanks again!

bonus unshaded/ less shaded Emmanuel design:

so you can see his colors~

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Made Your Mark On Me

...a golden tattoo Dieter Bravo x Female Reader

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: Your feelings for Dieter grow even stronger as you spend Christmas in London with him. Warnings: pov switching, christmas vibes, warren's a pos, pining, fluff, comfort, unprotected p in v sex, oral (f&m receiving), semi-public sex (in a dressing room), panty ripping, dieter's RICH, marijuana, alcohol, coke flashbacks, my google maps history knows a lot about the hyde park area of london Words: 7,800

A/N: Well folks, in true Gemini fashion, I've changed my mind. I know most of you voted for one mega chapter, but I think this arc is going to flow so much better as two. The next chapter is done, so expect that next week. My thanks to @devineconjuring for her eyes and dot eating and @schnarfer for her eyes and support. 💞

Previous Chapter Golden Girl Masterlist Masterlist ✨✨✨

December 23

Early morning light seeps through the curtains. Dieter’s arm lays heavily draped over your waist, his breath steady against your neck. Just as you nestle closer into the warmth of his body, the silence is shattered by the beeping of his alarm. He stirs behind you, his arm tightening briefly before he reaches over to silence the intrusive sound. The mattress shifts as he sits up, and you instantly feel cold.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice deep with sleep. "I have to get ready for set."

When you roll over to face him, he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then your lips.

"You should go back to sleep," he whispers against your skin. "It's still early.”

You nod, already feeling the pull of slumber.

He kisses you once more before sliding out of bed. You watch through half-closed eyes as he stretches, his long, lean back rippling.

"I wish I could stay,” he whispers, bending over and cupping your face in his hands. "One more for the road,” he murmurs before giving you one last kiss.

He disappears into the bathroom. The shower turns on, and the steady sound of water flowing against the tiles helps you drift back to sleep.

—-

He wipes the condensation from the mirror, and the same brown eyes he’s known all these years stare back at him. They look different–not clouded under a druggy haze, not behind a red gloss after drinking too many glasses of expensive alcohol, not empty and hollow waiting for someone to focus on. They look bright, happy, and full of love. 

He dresses in the bedroom, careful not to wake you as he watches you nestled among the blankets, peacefully sleeping. He so badly wants to crawl back into bed and hold you close. But duty calls, and he knows the sooner he leaves, the sooner he can return.

One final day before the holiday break. He’s so glad you’re here–he couldn’t fathom not being with you for Christmas. Soon, he’ll have the whole week to spend entirely with you. He used to see these breaks as a reason to fly somewhere beautiful and far away with a suitcase full of drugs and drinks, maybe taking a pretty girl or boy–or both–with him. A reason to leave the stress of Hollywood behind, ignoring Christmas, where everyone is happy and full of love, and New Year’s, where everyone asks him how he’ll improve, as if they were calling him a fuck up. 

My, how times change. Now, domestic bliss swells in his heart when he pulls out two mugs, pouring himself a cup of coffee, leaving the sugar out for you. It’s a small gesture to make your morning better, and he’ll never tire of making you happy. 

In the living room, your robe lays in a heap on the rug, right where it fell from your shoulders last night. He picks it up, depositing it onto the chair by the bed before moving silently to your side. He’s careful not to disturb you as he leans over and leaves a kiss against your soft lips, slightly parted in slumber.

“I’ll be back soon, baby. I love you.”

—-

The sun shining in through the large windows warms you awake. Your mind clears, three softly whispered words echo through your head. The room feels empty without him, but you know there are only a few hours until you have a whole week with him. 

The smell of coffee and the leftover remnants of Dieter’s cologne tempt you out of bed. You choose his robe over your own, inhaling the scent of him before heading to the kitchen.

Signs of the night before are strewn amongst you as you enjoy your coffee on the couch–the same couch where your story with Dieter fundamentally changed. Two glasses of gin and tonic that have long gone flat sit on the table, a half-smoked joint lays in the crystal ashtray, and your phone sits on the chair, ignored since Dieter put the movie on. 

The corner near the window catches your eye and an idea lights in your mind and heart. Today, you’re going to get a Christmas tree for Dieter. After a quick shower and change of clothes, you bundle up under the warmth of his favorite brown coat and take the elevator down.

“Good morning, my lady,” Lamar greets you as you step out of the elevator. “Anything I can help you with on this lovely, cold December day?”

“Actually, yes,” you smile. “Dieter’s room is lacking a Christmas tree. Where can I get one? Preferably with lots of branches for ornaments?” “Ah,” Lamar’s eyes light up. “Leave that to me. I’ll get you two the finest tree in all of Britain. You just take care of the ornaments. I’ll get you a car.”

—-

“You’re needed on set in ten,” Court says with a sharp knock on his door.

“Alright,” he responds, sighing at his phone and staring at your last text.

I have a surprise for you when you get home.❣️

He can’t think about it too much. There’s a vital scene that he needs to get done before the break. Today has been filled with nothing but impatience and annoyance. He just wants to get back home to you.

Dieter takes a deep breath, pushing thoughts of you to the back of his mind. He needs to focus. What he has to do is crucial to the production, and he can't afford any distractions. Sometimes, he hates being an actor. 

The director calls action, and Dieter easily slips into character. But even as he delivers his lines, a part of him remains anchored to you back in that hotel room. To the feel of your lips, to the warmth of your body next to his, to the years of wanting you—and finally having you.

Hours pass in a blur of takes and retakes. Finally, the director calls it a wrap. Dieter hurries back to his trailer, shedding his costume and makeup as quickly as possible. And now, he has nine days with you.

—-

The door opens with a click and beep, and you quickly finish adjusting a branch before running to the entryway. 

Dieter lights up when he sees you, a wide, crinkling-eye-smile across his face.

“Hi, Sweets,” he says, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around you. "I’m so happy to see you.” He inhales your scent, his lips meeting the juncture between your shoulder and neck.

“Hi. I have a surprise for you,” you sweetly tease. “Close your eyes.”

He pulls back, his eyes squeezed shut, the dimple on his cheek sitting deep with his smile. 

You grab his hand and lead him into the living room, the thrum of anticipation and excitement growing louder inside you with each step. 

“Okay,” you whisper, positioning him just right. “Open your eyes.” His eyes flutter open, and his jaw drops when he takes everything in.

A large Christmas tree adorned with tiny white lights is set up in the corner of the living room. Under it, bags from Liberty London and Selfridges sit filled with ornaments. 

“I figured we needed a proper Christmas tree.“

“I-I… Sweets, this is… amazing.”

“Yeah?”

He turns to you, tiny tears prickling at the sides of his eyes. “Yeah. This is surreal.”

Your heart pounds at that word. Surreal. The implication of his words last night before you drifted to sleep. Love. Love surreal. 

“I know,” you respond. “But it makes sense, right?”

“Fully.”

He wraps his arm around you, and your head rests against his chest, feeling his heartbeat. He sighs contentedly, the sound of it vibrating against your cheek.

“Shall we get changed into our finest robes and decorate it?” you suggest.

“I’d love nothing more.”

—-

Christmas carols softly play in the background as you unearth ornament after ornament from your shopping bags. He hasn’t decorated a tree in years, usually leaving it to his assistant to sort it out just because he feels obligated to have one. He often wondered what spending the holidays with you would be like. You always made things look so picturesque, always went above and beyond. He wanted that, and when he couldn’t have it, well, the holidays really never mattered.

The soft glow of the Christmas lights dance across your face as you carefully unwrap each ornament with wonder in your eyes. You’re so beautiful.

“Oh! I got these too,” you excitedly say, pulling a box of colored Christmas lights out of the bag. “I figured you love a colorful tree.”

You’re perfect.

—-

The tree is just what you hoped it would be, shimmering in the corner with a mix of twinkling white and rainbow lights. You’re proud of the ornaments you found that now cover it. A film camera for Dieter, a record player for you, a fuzzy raccoon for Dieter, a furry corgi for you, a basket of chips for Dieter, a cup of tea for you, and every single star-shaped ornament you could find.

“We did a good job, didn’t we?” you ask, sitting on the couch with the lights off, only sitting in the warmth of Dieter and the tree’s glow. He sparks the joint, the lighter and the tree reflected in his big, brown eyes. 

“Mm, we did,” he responds, blowing out a plume of smoke before laying down and placing his head in your lap. 

“This is nice,” you say as you reach down and grab the joint from his lips to take a hit. 

You play with Dieter's hair, occasionally trailing your fingertips along his jawline or tracing the shell of his ear. He leans over and stubs out the joint, grabbing your hand and planting a kiss against it. “I’m really happy you’re here. Surreal, right?”

“So surreal,” you whisper.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

December 24

Silver bells���

Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much as you and Dieter sway to the crooning voices of Christmas carols. Dieter's arms are secure around your waist. You’re both clad in matching flannel pajamas. All you can feel in this moment is the warmth of his body and the joy inside you.

He pulls away with a wide smile lighting up his face. “I have something for you. I don’t want to wait until tomorrow.” He takes your hand and leads you to sit down in front of the Christmas tree, where he pulls out a small, clumsily wrapped box from behind it. "I wrapped it myself.”

You tear off the Rudolph-themed paper and open the velvet box, revealing a golden chain bracelet adorned with delicate charms–a camera, a shooting star, a biscuit for your tea, a bee for your garden, a mixtape, and a pig with wings (“because when pigs fly, right?).

“I tried to find a charm for everything that made me think of you,” Dieter softly says. 

Running your finger over each one, you feel like finally, after all these years, someone truly sees you.

"It's perfect," you say, awe in your voice. “Thank you.”

You reach out your wrist to him, and he gently fastens the bracelet's clasp. You’re enamored by how the golden charms glisten in the light when you shake your wrist back and forth.

“Surreal,” Dieter says as he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your inner wrist, just below the bracelet.

Slowly, he trails kisses up your arm. You shiver, your free hand coming up to tangle in his hair when he nuzzles into the curve where your neck meets your shoulder before he licks his way up to your lips.

His hand cups your face, his thick thumb softly caressing your cheek as his lips meet yours. He deepens the kiss before guiding you to lie back on the floor. You feel his warmth as he covers you. An unfamiliar emotion you haven’t felt in years swells in your heart. He pulls away, his eyes roaming over your face with a small smile, the Christmas tree lights twinkling in his eyes.

You unbutton your top before shrugging it off. He takes in the sight of you before he lowers his head and presses soft kisses along your collarbone. He makes a path down to the swell of your breasts, looking up at you with a mixture of awe and desire.

A gasp escapes your lips when his mouth closes over your nipple, his hand cupping your other breast, thumb brushing over the sensitive peak.

Your back arches into his touch, Dieter’s lips curling into a smile against your skin as he trails kisses down your stomach until he reaches the apex of your legs. He wraps his fingers around the waistband of your plaid pajama pants before tugging gently. “It’s a shame. I loved matching with you, but these have to go, baby.” The flannel slides down your legs smoothly, his lips following the path, leaving a trail of warm kisses along your thighs.

He pauses at your knee, nuzzling the soft skin before continuing downward. When he reaches your ankle, a final kiss is pressed to the delicate bone before removing your pants.

He makes his way back up, his hands caressing your calves, knees, and thighs before he parts your legs and settles between them. His breath is warm against your inner thigh as he places sweet kisses there.

Brown eyes meet yours, the Christmas lights casting a kaleidoscope of colors inside his eyes as his tongue darts out and tastes you. His eyes flutter shut, a long, low groan vibrating against you as his tongue traces every fold and curve of you with reverent devotion. His fingers join in, parting you as he laps at your clit. 

Carding your fingers through his hair to urge him closer, your moans overpower the Christmas carols playing through the speakers.

Two thick fingers are slid inside you, slowly fucking you as your hips buck against his face. He hums against you, the sweet vibrations lighting you from within.

You’re panting for him, rolling your hips and clutching at your chest as his mouth and fingers work you. Just as you’re about to cum, he pulls back, making you whine at the loss. But before you can protest, Dieter’s already moving up your body.

The taste of you is left upon your lips when he kisses you, his tongue covered in your slick, licking against yours. You can feel the heaviness of him between your thighs, gently pressing against you. 

He breaks the kiss, pulling away to look into your eyes as he slowly pushes inside, both of you gasping and smiling. 

"You feel incredible," he sighs, peppering kisses along your jaw. "So perfect."

He languidly moves inside you, savoring the feel. His forehead rests against yours, your breaths mingling as he rocks into you.

He’s so beautiful, lit by the Christmas lights–the glow makes him look almost ethereal. His broad shoulders cast shifting shadows as he moves above you. Your hands move down to the plush of his stomach, your nails raking across his skin. You wrap your legs around his waist, drawing him into you deeper. He buries his face into your neck, groaning as he fucks into you faster.

“Dee,” you breathe before he lifts his head to kiss you again, swallowing your moans and gasping into your mouth. 

His movements falter as he gets closer. Your back arches as your whole body tightens and then trembles. You cry out his name as your orgasm flows through your body, setting you alight as your walls clench Dieter’s cock. The sensation pushes him over the edge as he groans your name, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you. It’s so warm, the heat of it filling you.

You cling to him as he collapses on top of you, both your bodies quivering with aftershocks. Dieter softly kisses along your neck and jaw as you both catch your breath.

He lifts his head, glancing over at the clock above the doorway that now reads 12:01 AM.

“Merry Christmas, Sweets.”

“Merry Christmas, Dee.”

—-—-—-—-—-—-

December 25

Steady breaths against your neck slowly wake you. Dieter's arms are wrapped around you, your bare skin pressed against his. You turn, careful not to wake him, drinking in the sight of him. His face is relaxed in sleep, long eyelashes fanned across his cheeks. His chaotic hair is even more mussed, a stray lock falling across his forehead. You reach out to gingerly brush it away before touching the glinting gold earring in his ear. A surge of affection lights your body. This moment–waking up with Dieter on Christmas morning in London–feels almost magical and unbelievable. You lean in, pressing your lips softly to his.

“Merry Christmas,” you whisper against his mouth.

He stirs, his brown eyes fluttering open. A slow, lazy smile spreads across his face as he focuses on you. "Merry Christmas, baby," he says, voice deep with sleep. His arms tighten around you, pulling you flush against him.

You kiss him again, deeper this time. He responds eagerly, one hand sliding up to tangle in your hair as you begin to move your body against his.

He rolls you onto your back before entering you slowly, groaning at how wet and ready you already are for him.

“God damn,” he sighs as he slowly fucks you. “Merry Christmas to me. You’re the best gift ever.”

You have the most relaxed Christmas morning you’ve ever had. Dieter has spoiled you–piles of wrapping and tissue paper are strewn across the suite, and a pile of gifts lies next to you. Designer and vintage clothes, cute trinkets, sparkling jewelry, a hand-bound journal with your initial embossed on the cover, a crystal rolling tray, a new frame for “a photo of us.” Everything is perfect and so well thought out by Dieter.

The small stack of gifts from you is grouped next to him. He holds up the ALF plush you knitted for him, knowing it’s one of his favorite shows ever.

“I can’t believe you made me this. It's… amazing, baby. Definitely my favorite gift ever.”

“You said that to me last night when you stuck your dick in me. So it’s ALF and then me?”

His jaw drops before lifting to smile. “God, you’re funny.”

He looks around the room, taking in everything before he reaches for his iPad.

“So, I have something else for you, but it’s, uh,” he lifts his hand, nervously rubbing his neck. “It’s not here, and it’s not done yet."

You arch an eyebrow, looking at him with a hint of puzzlement.

He beckons you over with his finger. “Come here.”

You crawl through the sea of crinkly paper into his lap, the back of your head resting against his chest.

A video plays of an artist painting delicate stars around a woman who looks similar to you, emerging from shadows into a luminous golden space.

“This is Layla Profar. She’s an up-and-coming artist who uses pure gold in her paintings. I told her your story, and this is what she’s painting. For you. She’s been working around the clock to finish it.”

Tears well in your eyes at the thoughtfulness. Nobody’s ever done or given anything like this to you.

"This is how I see you,” he says, his voice low against your ear. “Stepping out from what held you back, coming into your own. Away from Warren. You're free now, Golden Girl.” You stare at the painting, seeing a mirror of your own journey, tears falling down your cheeks.

A sniffle and a small sob alert him to your tears. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close.

“That's the blank, unholy surprise of it. You're the golden girl. Full of life and warmth and delight.” He nuzzles into your neck, leaving a soft kiss against your skin before he breathes you in.

You want to say the three words that spill out of your heart and up to your mouth, but you stay silent, quietly crying as he cradles you, gently rocking you back and forth.

“You like it, right?” he asks after a bit.

You choke out a laugh, turning to face him, tears still streaming down your face. His eyes search yours, a flicker of uncertainty in them.

“I love it,” you whisper. “Dee, this is the most thoughtful, beautiful gift anyone has ever given me.” Relief washes over his handsome face, a smile blooming across it. “Yeah?”

You reach up, cradling his head between your hands, the stubble of his jaw prickling against your palms. You seal your mouth over his in a tender kiss, trying to pour every ounce of emotion swelling in your chest into him. He crushes you against his broad chest, tightening his arms around you.

He pulls back, the small tears in his eyes mirror your own.

“Our first Christmas together, Golden Girl.”

—-

A small, sated smile still lights your face as you peacefully slumber next to him. He pulls you closer, marveling at how perfectly you fit against him.

He thinks back on the past few days–decorating the Christmas tree together, exchanging gifts, making love under the twinkling lights, sharing meals and joints with easy laughter. It's the happiest he's ever been.

For the first time, the holidays truly feel special and magical, filled with joy and… love. Because he loves you, wholly and completely. He’s known it for so long. For years. But sharing this Christmas with you has only solidified what his heart already knew–you are his Golden Girl, his person, the one he wants to spend every Christmas, birthday, and lazy Sunday morning with for the rest of his days.

For so long, he thought he could never have this, never dared to imagine he deserved you. His life has been a whirlwind of chaos—film sets, red carpets, shallow flings, a failed marriage, pills of different sizes and strengths, empty bottles of alcohol. But then there was you–his beautiful, talented, funny friend who always saw past the celebrity. Who saw him.

He leaves a kiss against your forehead before he also falls asleep with a smile.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

December 26

Dieter shuffles behind you as you rub face cream on your cheeks, a towel wrapped around your body fresh from the shower you two shared.

“Are you sure we’ll be okay?” you ask

“I’m sure. They don’t care about all this,” he says, gesturing wildly, “and all the celebrity bullshit like they do at home.”

He thinks you like staying in, away from the prying eyes of the public. Still unable to realize how free you are from Warren’s influence and watchful eyes.

He remembers the first time he met you. He, Warren, and some friends were out celebrating his multi-episode arc on some procedural police drama. He spotted you across the hazy bar, surrounded by your girlfriends, your smile wide and your dress gold, sparkling under the dim lights.

He made his way over to you, the gravity of your pull too much for him to ignore. He asked you to dance, and you giggled, taking his hand. He pulled you close, and from that moment on, you’ve been the only girl he’s ever wanted. He told you he was an actor. You confided in him then that was always your dream. He felt brave, his self-esteem boosted by the new role. He couldn’t resist you, his lips seeking yours, cutting off your cheerful giggle, tasting the sweet alcohol left in your mouth.

And then… he went to snort some lines in the bathroom, only to return to find Warren spinning you across the dance floor, the same smile you gave him, the same kiss you shared now given to his friend.

He was too high to care that night. Funny how the lines of coke in that disgusting bathroom would come to haunt him for years.

Now, as he helps you shuffle into your jacket, turning you around to button it up before sweetly kissing you, those ghosts are replaced by a hopeful future with you.

“Come on, baby,” he says, grabbing your hand. “I want to take you shopping.”

—-

The wind is crisp against your cheeks as you and Dieter walk hand in hand, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against your skin as you make your way towards Harrod’s.

“I’m so excited,” you beam as the grand building comes into view. You lead him to a window, pausing in front of it and taking in the festive display. You lean into him, resting your head against his shoulder. “I’m glad I get to see this with you.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Me too.”

To call Harrod's busy on Boxing Day is an understatement. You’ve never seen such a whirlwind of activity before. Your and Dieter’s eyes light up as you both take everything in.

His hand never leaves yours as you weave through the crowds, getting lost in the maze of sections, taking in the displays and glittering lights.

"Look at these," you say, holding up a pair of plush, fuzzy slippers adorned with a smiling corgi face. "Aren't they adorable?"

“Get ‘em,” he smiles, his eyebrows rising above his sunglasses. “And get me a pair, too.”

—-

A kind shopping attendant named Phineas effortlessly holds on to the many bags and boxes piling up high.

“Oh, that’s so pretty,” you exclaim, pointing to an emerald green silk scarf adorned with delicate golden stars. Dieter plucks it from the display.

“I don’t really need it. I just thought it was pretty.”

“Yeah, but I want to see you in only this later tonight,” he whispers into the shell of your ear. “It’ll look good against your skin.”

You chuckle and shake your head as you lead him into another section.

He loves spoiling you. He loves the way you get shy and flustered as he keeps adding more and more items to Phineas’s arms.

“I won't have enough room,” you sigh as he tucks a Judith Lieber Ticket to Space clutch under his arm. “Poor Phineas is suffering.”

“Bullshit,” he says with a doting smile. “I’ll mail it to you.” 

He reaches into his pocket, pulling out his “wallet”—a paper clip-secured stack of pounds and credit cards. He hands Phineas a platinum card and a stack of £50 notes. “Do me a favor, Phin. Get this all packaged up and delivered to the Mandarin for me. Keep the cash. Merry Boxing Day.”

“Yes, sir, thank you!” Phineas exclaims before he departs.

Dieter watches him leave, a roguish grin on his face. “Let’s go see what lingerie this place has to offer, huh?”

—-

Harrod's has a LOT of lingerie choices to offer… and a private dressing room. Dieter sits on a luxe blush pink velvet couch, waiting for you to appear from behind the curtain.

You take a deep breath, smoothing your hands over the matching bra and panty set you found. The dark blue fabric is almost sheer, and golden stars embroidered across the delicate lace shimmer as you check yourself out in the mirror. The bra cups lift and shape your breasts, the matching thong sits low on your hips. You’re going to drive Dieter crazy.

With a surge of confidence from how you look, you open the curtain and step out. Dieter throws his sunglasses off, his eyes widening and lips parting as he takes in the sight of you.

“Holy fuck,” he breathes.

You saunter over, standing in front of him. He throws his head back as he struggles to maintain his composure, his hands gripping the edge of the couch. When he looks at you again, his eyes turn dark.

“Turn around.”

You comply, slowly spinning to give him a view of your ass. He leans forward, placing a kiss against the supple shape of it. You chuckle, shaking your head at how needy he is for you.

“Fuck, you look so fucking good. Wish I could scoop you up in my arms and carry you out of here.”

He makes you feel confident, sexy, and… brave.

“Dee, we can be quick.”

A huge smile breaks across his face as he reaches forward, pulling you on top of him. He fumbles with the drawstrings of his pants, quickly pulling them down. He tangles the flimsy lace of the expensive thong in his hand before he rips it off.

“Oh my god! We haven’t bought that yet.”

“Don’t care, I’ll buy you ten more,” he growls.

He grips your hips, lifting you slightly before guiding you onto his hard length. You both groan as he fills you completely. His hands move to cup your ass, encouraging you to ride him.

“Fast, baby. Fuck me fast,” he groans before leaning forward and kissing you. His hands roam your body before he palms your breasts through the lace of the bra, his thumbs brushing over the hard peaks of your nipples.

There’s a thrill of potentially getting caught that makes you ride him harder, roll your hips with more force, and bite your lip to stifle your moans and sighs.

You’ve never done something like this before–so risque, so close to getting caught. The suspense pushes you over the edge. Your body trembles as you orgasm on his cock, squeezing and clenching, urging him to cum. Dieter follows right after, burying his face in your neck to muffle his groan as he spills inside you.

You collapse against his chest, both of you breathing heavily. After a moment, Dieter chuckles softly. "Well, I think I liked that set.”

You giggle. “Me too. I can’t believe we just did that.”

“Whatever designer that is, buy everything they have.”

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

December 27

You’ve been in London for five days, and tonight is the first night you’re actually leaving the hotel room for dinner. Yesterday, Dieter told you to surprise him and pick a dress, telling you he wanted to take you out on a proper date.

You’ve been holed up in the guest bedroom, digging through various Harrod’s bags and boxes, pulling out makeup, hair products, and jewelry to complete your outfit.

A light knock on the door catches your attention as you pull on your brand-new boots.

“The car’s here,” Dieter says at the door. “Reservation’s in twenty, Sweets.”

“Coming!” you shout.

—-

Dieter buttons up his plaid wool jacket, his fingers freezing on the last button when he looks up and sees you. The gold mini dress you’re wearing clings to your body, reminding him so much of the dress you wore the first night you met. The hem falls mid-thigh, your legs clad in black tights that end in knee-high boots. But what really catches his eye is the green scarf covered in golden stars that you’ve tied around your neck. He knew it’d look gorgeous against your skin. He wants to say fuck it and cancel the reservation right then and there.

“Wow, you look stunning, baby.”

“Thanks,” you shyly respond, smoothing down the front of your dress. “Is it too much?” You ask, glancing down at the top swell of your breasts framed by the v-neck neckline.

“Fuck no,” he chuckles. “It’s perfect. Though, maybe we should stay in.”

“No, Dee. I’m starving, and you promised me a proper date.”

He pulls you close, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “You’re right, let’s go.”

—-

The plates have long been cleared, and your glass is filled with more melted ice than gin and tonic. You haven’t been on an actual date in years.

Warren used to wine and dine you, take you to the fanciest restaurants, and surprise you with flowers. Then, your nights spent together dwindled, and the bouquets disappeared. It was then up to you to grow your own flowers.

The streets outside the restaurant are busy. Londoners walk, bundled up in coats, scarves, and hats, clouds of condensation puffing out from between their lips. You wonder if they’re all as happy as you are right now. Your hand in Dieter’s as he regales you with a story about a mismatched dance belt fiasco from his theatre days.

The candlelight flickers in his bright brown eyes and the dimple carved in his cheek is deeper as he smiles. He’s so gorgeous, it’s hard to believe it took you this long to give yourself this moment. Your lips tingle when you think about leaning over and kissing him, but you don’t. You’ll thank him for this night once you get back home.

“Dee,” you interrupt as he continues his story. 

“Yeah, baby?”

“Can you get the check?” You ask before glancing around and leaning in closer to him. “I’d like to go back home and suck your cock.” 

The table clangs and clatters as Dieter stands quickly, throwing a large wad of money on the surface before grabbing your hand. 

—

As soon as the elevator doors close, you’re on him, your lips capturing his.

“Whoa, baby,” he chuckles as you suck on his lower lip.

“Want… to… thank… you…” you say, punctuating each word with a kiss.

“Fuck.”

He lifts you into his hold, your legs wrapping around his waist.

The elevator dings open, and he stumbles out. Your kisses turn to licks along his jaw and down his neck. You’re already moaning for him, and he fumbles with the key card until, finally, the door beeps and swings open.

You’re already sliding down his body when the door shuts, hands trailing over his stomach as you sink to your knees, your fingers working at his belt buckle.

“Jesus, baby,” he groans, head falling back against the wall as you free his hardening cock from his pants.

He lets out an audible gasp when you look up at him through your lashes, a coy smile playing on your lips before you take him into your mouth.

He’s not a strong man. He’s thought of this so many times throughout the years. Your mouth all over him, not his spit-covered palm. The sound of your moans vibrating against his cock as you take him in deeper, not his soft whimpers as he jerks himself off. Your pretty face covered in his cum, not his hand and stomach.

Now, his thumbs feel the softness of your cheeks, hollowing and sucking him harder. He hears the soft keens mixed with the wet slurp as your tongue swirls around his head. His knees get weak right as your hand cups his balls, gently squeezing and massaging them.

He can already feel the rush of bliss overtaking his body. He knows he’s leaking against your tongue, and when you pull his cock out of your mouth, slapping it against your lips, he cums all over you.

Your jackets haven’t even been removed–the only sign of anything uncouth happening is his softening dick and your pretty face covered in his cum.

He can’t believe his luck, looking down at you smiling wide as you collect a dollop of him on your thumb and suck it off with a sweet “mmm.”

God, he loves you.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

December 28

“Man, I miss Lucky Charms,” Dieter sighs as he stirs a spoonful of sugar into his coffee.

��You should have told me. I could have packed you some.”

“Damn, good point. Well, I’ll be home in a few weeks at least.”

Home. Your vacation will soon be over. Your flight is booked for the 2nd. You know you need to get back home. Once Dieter goes back to filming, you’ll never see him, and you can’t stay cooped up in this hotel suite waiting—and distracting him. But damn, you don’t want to leave.

You wonder what the future holds for the two of you once he returns to Los Angeles. Has something fundamentally shifted between the two of you? You can’t imagine being in the same city as him but not together.

You're pulled from your thoughts by Dieter's hand on yours. "Hey, where'd you go just now?" he asks, his brow furrowed in concern.

"Just thinking about going home," you say with a small shrug.

His face falls slightly. “It’ll only be a few weeks.”

“I know, I just… I’m going to really miss you. Like a lo—”

Your phone dings, interrupting your confession. You look down.

notwarrengharding posted a tweet

Your curiosity gets the best of you, and you remind yourself for the hundredth time to turn off notifications for him as you go to Twitter.

It’s a photo. Of you—and Dieter—at the restaurant he took you to last night. Your head is thrown back in laughter, your smile wide. He’s grinning at you, his hand on yours, with his dark brown eyes glowing in the low light. You look like a couple in love.

You’re enamored by the photo until you notice Warren’s retweeted a celebrity gossip account with the eye-rolling emoji and the quote: “Trust is earned, respect is given, and loyalty is demonstrated.”

Your stomach drops. How dare he. 

“Fuck,” you sigh. Handing Dieter the phone.

His face sets in anger after his eyes widen when he sees the photo.

“Fuck, indeed.”

Panic sets in. That’s a paparazzi photo.

You knew this would happen eventually, but you weren't prepared for it to be so soon. And you certainly weren't prepared for Warren to chime in. Dread settles in your stomach.

“That’s… everywhere now. All over. W-Warren knows and-”

"And what?" Dieter interrupts gently. "So he knows we're together. Is that such a bad thing? He’s just being a petty asshole. Sweets, all that matters is what we have together here, nobody else. I’ve waited so long for this. For us. Fuck everyone else.”

“I just… I remember what happened with Anika, and I don’t want that to happen to me.” A tear falls down your cheek.

He gets up, kneeling down in front of you and gathering your hands in his. “Baby, look at me. Everything that happened between Ani and I was only because, for so long, I tried to recreate what I felt for you, what I thought you and Warren had, and I failed miserably at it. You’re my golden girl, only you.”

“I just… I don’t want this to cause problems for you. With your career or the press or-”

He cuts you off with a soft kiss. “Fuck everyone else, okay, baby?”

—-

You’re quiet today, keeping your face stuck behind a book you bought at Harrod's while Dieter studies his lines for the upcoming shoot days.

He tries to focus on his script, but his eyes keep drifting to you, curled up on the couch. Your brow is furrowed in concentration as you read, but he can see the tension in your shoulders. He knows you're still upset about the photo and Warren's post.

He sets the script aside and moves to sit next to you on the couch. Gently, he tugs the book from your hands. You look up at him, your eyes clouded with worry.

"Talk to me, Sweets," he says softly. "What's really bothering you?"

You sigh, leaning into him as he wraps an arm around you. "I'm scared, Dee. Everything felt so perfect before and… I don't know. I don't want to lose this."

Dieter pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. "You're not going to lose me. Or this. I know my track record isn't great, but you're different. You've always been different."

He tilts your chin up, meeting your eyes. "I meant what I said earlier. Fuck everyone else. All that matters is you and me.”

He regrets so many parts of his past but never meeting you. Now that he has you, he’ll never let you go. The future used to always freak him out, but now, with you, it’s something he can’t wait for.

—-

There’s a cloud over the hotel suite, full of uncertainty and fear.

You try to focus on the book in your hands, but the words blur together as your mind races. The photo of you and Dieter keeps flashing in your thoughts, along with Warren's tweet.

You can almost hear his voice, dripping with fake concern as he shares the image with mutual friends, painting himself as the wronged party.

"Did you see this? I can't believe she'd do this to me…"

Bullshit. Warren left you. You shouldn’t feel guilty for moving on, for finding happiness with someone else… even if it is with Dieter. And yet…

You can’t fathom thinking about the tabloids and gossip sites, the way they’ve molded Dieter into whatever narrative they decide will sell. Tragic drug-addicted actor has-been, drunken playboy who has a new person to fuck every other week, happily married man who found love with a hotel receptionist, heart-breaking divorcee who will never find love, charming darling who booked a comeback project… you’ve seen them all.

But you know Dieter. He’s the most caring, sweetest, and thoughtful man you’ve ever met. You’re damn lucky to have had him as a friend, even luckier to have him in whatever way this is now.

Dieter sets his script aside, wrapping an arm around you. You feel the anxieties already disappearing, his touch reminding you of why this is all worth it.

His brown eyes, filled with concern, meet yours. “Fuck everyone else,” he whispers against your lips before pressing his gently against yours. 

—-

It’s one of those nights, the one where he’d typically toss and turn before getting up and downing a couple of sleeping pills with a whiskey chaser, but tonight, he simply lies awake. Your body nestled close, your smooth skin against his. There’s something about sharing a bed with you that still feels so foreign to him. Years of yearning to feel your touch, and now he has it. It still doesn’t feel real.

He remembers a couple of months after he had met you, you called him in a panic, saying your car had broken down on the freeway near the apartment he and Warren shared in Burbank. He grabbed his keys and bolted out the door. He couldn’t bear the thought of you alone and scared on the side of the road.

When he pulled up, he saw you, small and vulnerable, arms wrapped tightly around yourself. Your face flashing from worry to relief as you recognized him approaching.

He jumped out of his car, rushing to your side. The sight of you, tears streaking your cheeks and mascara smudged under your eyes, made his chest ache. The flat tire was obvious.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m here now,” he soothed, pulling you into his arms without thinking. You melted against him, your body shaking slightly as tears started to fall.

You looked up at him, your eyes wide and full of tears. “Thank you. I-I didn’t know who else to call. Warren and I… we’re not really talking right now, and I don’t have a spare and can’t afford a tow.” Your lower lip quivered as fresh tears spilled over.

"You can always call me, no matter what. I'll always come for you."

He was broke as hell, waiting for a residual check to come through, but he didn’t hesitate to call for a tow truck and pay for it. He drove you home and dropped you off. You leaned over and kissed his cheek softly. “Thank you, Dee. You’re my hero.”

As he watched you walk into your apartment building, he knew he was in deep. He would do anything for you. Like waiting years and years to finally have you in his arms.

Now that he has you, he’ll be damned if he lets anybody or anything come in between you. Whether it’s shitty ex-husbands, tabloids, or his own demons, he’s not going to let anything ruin this.

He thinks about the future, years down the line. Lazy mornings in bed, walking hand-in-hand through flea markets, laughing over shared meals. He pictures you by his side at red-carpet events, the cameras flashing around the two of you, a wide smile across his face as he shows off his golden girl. 

He sneaks out of bed, careful not to wake you, and throws his robe on before grabbing his phone. The air is cool as he opens the door, quickly walking out onto the same balcony he used to spend his late nights and early mornings on talking to you. He does the familiar math in his head. It’s 2 AM in London and only 6 PM in Los Angeles.

It only takes two rings for Alex to pick up.

“Bravo. It’s late there. Everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine. Listen, those photos of me and Sweets at the restaurant…”

“We’re aware.”

“Take care of them. I don't want her dragged into this. Make sure the tabloids know she's off-limits."

Alex sighs on the other end. "You know how this works. Once it's out there—"

"I don't care," he interrupts. "Use whatever connections you have. Call in favors. I'll do extra press, more interviews…” Dieter looks over when he hears the door open. You’re wrapped in a sheet, your tired eyes blinking back at him. “Whatever it takes. Just keep her name out of it."

There’s a pause before Alex responds. “Alright, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks, Alex,” he sighs and hangs up as you lay your body over his. You’re still warm from the bed, covering and comforting him like a blanket.

“Was that call about me?” you ask, your voice still soft and sleepy.

“Mm, it was.”

“You didn’t have to do that, Dee, Not for me. I’ll get over it, I’ve had to get over worse.”

“Sweets, look at me. I’ll do anything to keep you happy and protect you. I—” he struggles to say the truth, but he doesn’t want to complicate today for you even more. “Anything. You know that, right?”

You cuddle in closer to him. “I know,” you whisper. “I’d do anything for you too.”

“Anything?” he asks. “Do you think we could go inside? I can’t feel my toes.”

—

 “Fuck everyone else.” Dieter’s words echo in your mind.

A simple phrase, really, yet so powerful coming from him. The way he sprang into action, calling his agent in the middle of the night to shield you. You can’t remember the last time Warren made such a sacrifice for you–if he ever did. 

You nestle deeper into Dieter’s warm, strong arms wrapped around you, protected by his actions and steady breathing as he sleeps. 

You try to recall a single instance where Warren put your needs before his own. The memories are hazy, obscured by years of neglect and indifference. Your husband always focused on his own image and career. You were an accessory to be shown off when it suited him and ignored when it didn’t.

But here, in Dieter’s arms, you feel cherished. Valued. Protected. And… in love.

✨✨✨ A/N: Next chapter next week. Thank you for reading! Please feel free to yell at me. 💞

Alternative chapter header. ALF FOREVER

✨✨✨ Perma tagging: @schnarfer @mothandpidgeon @ohheypedrito Tagging some friends and lovers of GG (let me know if you'd like to be added or removed): @sawymredfox, @secretelephanttattoo, @galway-girlatwork, @whatumuhcallit, @chronically-ghosted @copperhalfcent, @jessthebaker, @moel-jiller, @sunnytuliptime, @jokesonthem @lotusbxtch, @mysterious-moonstruck-musings, @flawssy-227, @toomanystoriessolittletime, @littlemisspascal @cas-readsandwrites, @wave0fg00dvibes, @rulexofxnines, @tuquoquebrute, @littlevenicebitch69

[qqueenofhades]

I just wanted to thank you for the post you made earlier about contacting your attorney general. It was the push I needed to stop doom scrolling and spend some time actually putting my concerns into words and now I've emailed my attorney general, senators, and house representative. I also had the nice realization that I don't have to be an expert or know every detail of what's going on to express my opinion to my elected officials, so I think they'll be hearing from me a lot more now

You're welcome, and I'm glad it was helpful. Calling is always the best way to contact elected officials, but ANY communication or action is better than none. If you don't have the spoons for a call (though I can absolutely help you and/or anyone who would like help developing a script or template), then by all means email. Most State AGs also have "File a Complaint" e-contact options on their website, so while it works best to call your senator or house rep, just getting in contact with your AG at all is a step that fewer people tend to take. It is also orders of magnitude better than just doomscrolling yourself into abject fear and depression.

As you say, you don't need to be a subject matter expert (lbr, most elected officials are absolutely not) to say "hey, this sucks and I, your constituent who pays your fuckin salary through my tax dollars and can or can not vote for you, would like you to do something the fuck about it." Also, red-leaning folk both reliably call their representatives and vote in elections much more than blue-leaning folk, part of the reason we are in such a pickle. So yeah. Doing both of those things consistently is the bare minimum toward catching up.

As ever, as I also like to say: nothing is predestined, nothing is unalterable, and just announcing something is not by any means the same thing as permanently carrying it out. Bullshit flagrant overreach does not work long term, as we have already seen. So speak up and fight back, but keep it in perspective as much as you can.

(Insert Gandalf gif here. You know the one.)

[hoosbandewan]

No matter who someone votes for does not make them a bad person. If someone votes differently than you and you find that as a reason to not support them then you are part of the problem. I'm thankfully open-minded and glad I can have Democrat and Republican friends and we can all still be friends even with different beliefs and opinions. I don't understand how anyone can have that mindset.... You want Peace and love but are the first ones to throw someone under the bus if they think differently than you do.

And using Ewan to push your thoughts is shameful

Having friends on both sides of the aisle is fine. Having a difference in opinions is fine. I think it can be incredibly damaging for people to get caught in an echo chamber and be surrounded only by people who share their same viewpoint. And the fact that we can all have our own thoughts and opinions is what makes a free country like the U.S. so wonderful.

I even know a good number of Republicans and conservative-leaning people who didn't and wouldn't vote for Trump. And, you see, that's the difference.

Voting for Trump.

You cannot, in good conscience, look me in the eye and tell me that casting a vote for Donald Trump makes you a good person. I could have forgiven a Trump vote in 2016, but not in 2020 and certainly not in 2024.

Trump attempted to overturn a democratic election and was indicted for it. And on that day, he voiced support for the Capitol rioters who wanted to hang his vice president for failing to reject the electoral votes that proved Biden's win.

Trump nominated Supreme Court justices to overturn Roe v. Wade, a move that has already killed women and will continue killing people. In Texas alone, the maternal death rate rose by 56% between 2019 and 2022, the year that Roe was overturned. Since the reversal, the infant mortality rate has risen by 7% nationally - and by 13% in Texas alone.

Trump is unapologetically and unabashedly racist, displaying repeated and disturbing rhetoric aimed at immigrants, Mexicans, black Americans, Haitians, Muslims, and more. In his first term, he instituted new procedural barriers to prevent immigrants from seeking asylum in America. He put migrant children in cages. He has unjustly called for the death penalty for numerous people of color - remember the Central Park 5?

Trump has threatened to deploy the military and law enforcement to target his political opponents and left-leaning Americans.

Trump rolled back almost 100 policies focused on clean air, water, wildlife, and toxic chemicals in an era when mitigating climate change is more important than ever. And he plans on gutting even more.

Trump is a convicted felon with 34 felony counts under his belt.

Trump has shown time and time again that his views and policies align with fascist ideals. He wants very, very badly to turn the U.S. democracy into an authoritarian regime.

And if this isn't enough, Trump has been endorsed by the KKK since his 2016 campaign. He's the golden child of white supremacists and white nationalists everywhere.

So, yeah. If this is your guy, I don't want fucking anything to do with you.

I am so sick and tired of Trump supporters crying about peace and love and civility and "oh, but where are the tolerant left?" when they turn right around and vote for Donald Trump.

You don’t get to hold abhorrent views and beliefs and then be friends with us. You don’t get to be friendly to our faces all while supporting a man who wants us dead or oppressed. You can't profess to love your fellow Americans if you are condemning them.

I don't want to hang out with racists and fascists. Because if you choose to support and vote for a racist, fascist, misogynistic, dangerous person, then that makes you one, too.

[unscharf-an-den-raendern]

Honestly, even though I'm glad Germany finally passed the Selbstbestimmungsgesetz, I can't really enjoy it.

Elections are next year. The current government is unpopular and it looks like the CDU will win again. Not only did they vote against it, they've become increasingly more queerphobic lately. Their stance used to be "We tolerate you but won't give you any rights", now it's "We want to take your rights away and make people hate you". Some states where they're the ruling party already outlawed gender inclusive language and that's only the beginning.

[ottosuwuen]

I was fully expecting either Vincent/Chisha or Vincent/Subaru to take first place, and I'm pleased to announce: Vincent/Chisha won!

Regarding the others, I must say this was somewhat unexpected. Of course Vincent/Chisha and Vincent/Subaru would surpass the rest by far, but I didn't think Vincent/Julius would get more votes than Vincent/Cecilus, when I've seen way more content for the latter. It was a pleasant surprise, though.

0 votes for Vincent/Ubilk is kind of sad.

As for the two m/f ships featured here, I find it also surprising that Vincent/Serena was the only one that got votes while Vincent/Medium, with its recent canon implications and the accordingly growing interest from the fandom, got 0.

Also, I need to know what that 1 vote for "other" means.

Hi there, RZ novel readers. Even if you don't actually ship any of these but are familiar with Vincent, I'd appreciate if you could vote for the one you find most decent or something.

Also, if you want to add any explanations about your pick, that'd be nice.

[magpie-murder]

it'd be wild if they gave asgard's citizens phones in marvel i bet they'd have the best drama

20 notes

👴🏻 is-odin-dead-yet

No.

#date: 2023/11/23 #when will he croak #i've been running this blog for centuries #frigga for allfather #kick the bucket already i'm getting bored of posting here

112 notes

⛈️ god-of-thunder

I come to Tumblr with a regretful update. As you may know, my family and our fiercest warriors have been traveling between realms in search of our stolen relics.

While attempting to recover one, my brother lost his life in battle while protecting us. He shielded me with his body. My brother died a hero.

einherjarl-deactivated20231120

May he reach Folkvangr. My deepest condolences. But I thought Baldur was impervious to all harm...?

⛈️ god-of-thunder

It was Loki. :( I'm devastated.

einherjarl-deactivated20231120

Oh.

🐍 magic-theatre

is that all you can muster? "oh." you thought i was dead, and that's it? that's all you have? what do you mean by that? let's talk. :)

⛈️ god-of-thunder

You're alive? Where are you?

⛈️ god-of-thunder

Wait, what happened to @einherjarl? He deactivated?

⛈️ god-of-thunder

Loki?

23,034 notes

🎨 bragis-apprentice

Just finished custom making this handle

#metalwork #artists on tumblr #double sided axe #my art

2 notes

⚔️ aesir-warrior-tournament

⚡️LIGHTNING ROUND⚡️

einherjarl-deactivated20231120

?

einherjarl-deactivated20231120

Lady Sif is not one of The Warriors Three. It says it in the name. There are three of them. Not four.

Correct this.

✨️ the-dashingest

I voted for Sif.

🪓 valiant-festivals

I voted for Sif.

🔺️ grim-warrior

I voted for Sif.

✨️ the-dashingest

Wait, Hogun? But you didn't tell us you had a phone?

🔺️ grim-warrior

I don't.

#lady sif propaganda #lightning round #poll reblog #only one more round after this! #i'm so glad lady sif doesn't have tumblr lol #i hope you guys dont mind that a mortal is running this blog btw #i really didnt expect any of you to see this 😬 #and srry for the reblog spam #also hogun lol

1,879 notes

🐍 magic-theatre

i see your thirst edits, you sick freaks.

#start tagging me in them #and/or sending them to me

689 notes

⛵️ modern-technologist Follow

umm i'm in ohio to visit my parents and there's like. um . a giant wolf running alongside my car? i'd call animal control but this thing is ginormous and i don't think that would do anything.

it doesnt have a leash or anything (obv its bigger than my car) but it's covered in chains. what do i do??

@identifying-d𝚘gs-in-posts ??

🐕 identifying-dogs-in-posts Follow

Fenrir Lokison?

#😨

197 notes

✨️ the-dashingest

I really don't think Loki is that bad. Sure, he's had a rocky history, but I don't think he's done anything worthy of scorn. Besides, hasn't he just died and come back or something like that, anyway? He has a blank slate, in my book.

#is it just me? #i hear people saying we should banish or kill him #i find that idea preposterous #he's just misunderstood

208 notes

einherjarl-deactivated20231120

I'm not going to @ them, but ugh... Someone I'm acquainted with just died in battle, and honestly? I'm so relieved. Is that terrible? Don't answer that, I know that it is. I'll probably delete this in a few hours.

🐍 magic-theatre

that's what you get for vagueing.

cowards don't go to valhalla.

10,560 notes

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[niuniente]

I'm shocked to see that Smash vs Pass Alrick post has already over 1100 votes.

I have felt for the longest time that I have maybe 50 readers, max 80, and no one else really cares about Death-Head's Deal or Alrick, based on the interactions - replies, reblogs, comments, Discord activity, fanart, fanfics - the comic gets.

I'm glad to know there are more readers there.

Please let me also know that you exist.

[fandoms-in-law]

Manual Mood Ring

Summary: To keep up popularity and the Harrington reputation Steve couldn't show many emotions. That didn't mean he didn't feel them, only that he didn't always recognise what feelings he hid. So he wore rings, swapped them out according to his moods. And a few people noticed them.

Authors note: It won the poll by 1 vote and honestly I'm glad about it. In typing the other fic up I realised how not finished it is. This has been a great fic to procrastinate work with over the last couple weeks, but I'm glad with where I finished it.

/\/\

Steve would never say, except to Robin, but it all began because of Eddie and curiosity. If the guys he'd been friends with at the start of high school had paid attention, they could've worked it out too, but none of them thought twice when the week after he noticed, and accidentally cause some bullying over, Eddie's rings, Steve came in wearing one of his own.

The ring, or rather rings, he wore weren't expensive, just simple things he'd spotted in a shop window, but somehow everyone thought it was a wealth thing when they noticed it and so far as Steve heard, nobody realised there were 6 different rings he'd swap out. They definitely didn't question when he swapped them either, not even Nancy.

Robin did know. She only admitted noticing them when Steve dragged her out to buy more after the Russians took his original rings and none of the government agents mentioned finding them. She was the one who asked about why he needed multiple rings when he'd only wear one at a time.

It didn't help the assumptions they were dating when Robin insisted on taking his hand to check which ring he was wearing every time they met up after the explanation that he used them as an indication or self check-in of his mood.

/\/\

Eddie knew Steve Harrington wore a ring. When he started to the gossip in Hawkins High said his father insisted on it due to a tradition but if that was the case then the ring was too plain in Eddie’s opinion.

Then he noticed Harrington changing rings after getting a question wrong in class and was certain the rumour was wrong, even if he couldn't figure out the actual reason for it straight away. After he'd seen that first swap, it was too clear for him to notice the times that the ring got changed, especially since he decided to try and figure out why Harrington would do that.

Spotting Harrington's ring enough to tell the differences in it wasn't easy in school, especially outside of their shared classes, but a theory soon grew in Eddie's mind of them being some sort of manual mood ring. This was only backed up when he visited Scoops Ahoy once or twice over the summer.

Before the fire Eddie even thought he was close to knowing what emotions some of the rings might indicate, but they all changed after that, not even one remained the same as before and, thankfully for Eddie's curiosity, the new ones had more noticeable differences.

With all his curiosity over Harrington's rings, it confused him to realise the kids he'd brought into Hellfire seemed to know nothing of them. Once Mike even commented ' Steve would be cooler if he just wore rings like Eddie's.' as if he wasn't already wearing one constantly. Eddie could spot it glinting on Harrington's finger when he picked them up afterwards, not hidden at all.

From paying attention to those lifts and Harrington's expressions and reactions to the brats gave Eddie some clues on what colour or general shape of rings matched good or bad moods, even if he never saw the detailing on them.

Except for one.

Eddie saw one ring in detail once. Hellfire had an extra club meeting that apparently none of the kids Harrington gave a lift to had mentioned to him until he came storming through the school half panicked. Even after confirming they were safe Harrington made everyone move along the table so he could sit next to Eddie and listen until the end.

The ring that time was in a woven pattern, made of silver and Eddie was certain it meant fear or stress. It had to, given how Harrington only looked away from his kids to watch the door or, for some reason, analyse the ceiling for damage and suspiciously eye the lights.

Who knew getting an answer about one of the rings meanings could give Eddie so many more questions?

/\/\

Survival and fear were the only things going through Eddie's mind. He didn't know what happened to Chrissie or if it would happen to him next. He didn't know if he was trying to hide from that or from the town he was sure would blame him.

He definitely wasn't calm enough to recognise any of the voices yelling for him and dived into the boat as they got closer.

The conversation of the group looking for him was heard but barely understood as Eddie tried to get ready to jump up and fight or run through the hard jabs from an oar he thought was mentioned.

It wasn't the oar or the gaze of the man he pinned that broke through Eddie's fear when he decided to get out.

The hand holding the oar wore a silver woven ring. It wasn't polished and definitely showed signs of tarnishing in the indented areas and it echoed how he felt. He knew the ring and what emotion he was certain it meant.

And he knew that other rings were kept in the back pocket from classes where they'd get swapped out. Those are what he reached for now, still pinning Harrington with one hand which made it harder to separate the bronze ring that tended to be worn if he'd be joking when picking the kids up.

“Guess you're not here to have a go at me, or this would be worn.” Eddie mutters eventually into the silence that had fallen in the boathouse.

“I wouldn't do that. Dustin would never talk to me again if I did that. And how do you know anything about my rings?” Steve's words tumbled past each other, but seemed more confused now, instead of the panic he'd shown when first getting pinned.

“What rings?” Dustin demanded, somewhere behind Eddie.

Steve glanced over, “Forget the rings actually. What happened? We want to help.”

/\/\

Steve hadn't changed his ring in days.

Eddie glanced at it each time they came to give him supplies, came to try and talk him into staying with one of them despite how they'd need to hide him from parents, every time he got the change to.

It was still the silver woven effect ring.

He could only hope he'd live to see another ring take its place and was beginning to suspect Steve was hoping the same thing. A few times he'd been caught looking at the hand wearing the ring, but Steve never said anything, only brought his hand back to the pocket with the rest of them.

“You got the bronze ring wrong.” Robin commented on one of the few moments everyone else was distracted. “It's not when Steve's truly happy or whatever you think.”

Eddie glanced at her, gaze returning to Steve straight away. “What is it then?”

“Forced positivity. It's when he's struggling to believe we want him here so tries to reach out subtly for most of them.” She explained.

“And you?”

“Check his rings when I first see him so give him reassurance as needed. Although you might've changed its meaning now.” Her words sounded slow as if she was musing on the idea. “We'll see after Vecna's defeated.”

Eddie wasn't quite sure what to make of that but Robin was already over with Steve again, catching up with whatever they were working on. At least being in hiding gave him lots of time to think through her cryptic comments for breaks from panicking.

/\/\

“That's my ring.” Eddie stated. He'd been staring at the hand since waking up, originally cause it was clinging tightly and then as his memories filtered through the medication clouding his brain, to see if Steve was still stressed out. How was he meant to understand seeing his own ring being worn by Steve?

Steve's chuckle was watery, and there were tears in his eyes when Eddie looked up. “Yeah, mine now. Glad you're awake finally.”

Somehow that was what made him realise he had none of his rings on at all. “Where are the rest? What does my ring have the honour of meaning?” They felt like dumb questions but Eddie was scared to ask the more serious ones.

“Dustin's got them and your pic necklace. He'll be here as soon as visiting hours start along with at least a few of the other brats. Not sure which are seeing you first today other than him. Wayne's at the trailer salvaging what he can. Added me as an emergency contact so you wouldn't wake up alone.” Steve offered, thankfully guessing what he'd want to know first. “As for the ring, I don't know. I've been a mess, unable to figure out what I'm feeling so it's currently a question mark ring.”

That felt like a familiar feeling as Eddie blinked. He had no clue why things would need salvaging from the trailer at all. “What happened?”

The explanation carried on through the kids arriving, Dustin trying to push the rings onto Eddie and being stopped by nurses not wanting the jewellery in the way, and plenty of interruptions and additions. It covered how the attack that had left him in an induced coma to heal had only partly succeeded and everything that had come after and ended with Steve pushing his hair back into place sighing, “Thankfully most of us decided against sleeping through it all. Vecna is gone now and we're just waiting for people to wake up and heal.”

“And get Steve to explain how he's worn a ring so long without us knowing.” Dustin insisted, glaring at said man.

Eddie grinned, shaking his head alongside Steve. “It's not the king's fault if his friends don't pay attention to him. After all, I'd never spoken to him before all of this and I knew about the rings.”

“Lies.” Robin called, appearing in the doorway. “You spoke to him precisely 7 times as I never served you when you came into Scoops.”

Steve tilted his head, thinking before he shook his head at her. “Nope. He just pointed and handed over the money. I spoke to him before it all, but not the reverse. Such an unsociable customer.”

“You couldn't get Eddie Munson to talk to you? That board needed more tallies under you suck.” Robin teased, coming over and smiling at Eddie. “How are you feeling?”

For a moment it was silent as Eddie didn't realise the Steve and Robin show had finished with a question to him. “Oh, I'm – Honestly I feel like I died and this is a bizarre form of purgatory. Could be hell from the pain levels but you're all being too nice for that.”

/\/\

Robin loved Steve's rings. She saw them as a small rebellion against his parents rigid views of gender as well as a good idea for someone who wasn't often allowed to express his emotions.

Even before she knew what they showed, back when they were just co-workers and former classmates, she paid attention to the rings and the ways Steve swapped them out. She knew the original set of 6 almost as well as she knew the ones she'd helped Steve find to replace them.

And she knew they definitely shouldn't be in Nancy Wheeler's jewellery box, still bagged with a label from the US government stating they had been goods confiscated by the Russians.

When she saw them it wasn't sensible to mention it. They were still dealing with Vecna and trying to find out more about him, but she remembered and once everything was over, and all that was left to do was healing, she wasn't going to stay silent any more.

“You know, Nancy, I've had a question for a while.” She stated, off hand, but laser focused on getting answers.

It was just her, Steve and Nancy for the moment so seemed like the best time to bring it up without anyone else interfering.

Nancy didn't seemed concerned either, just smiling. “Which is?”

“You never had anything to do with the Russians during the Starcourt fiasco, right?” Robin didn't immediately mention the rings, knowing just bringing up any of the events was likely to get the guard up of all of them.

Guarded eyes now looked at her, and beside her, Robin knew Steve was trying to catch her eye to silently ask what she was doing. “No. You know I was researching for the paper or with the kids basically the entire time.” Nancy agreed.

“Okay. So why, when we were trying to figure out info on Vecna, did I find a bag of items labelled as things the Russians had confiscated in your jewellery box?” Robin still didn't mention the rings, but knew Steve would immediately think of them.

After being given his keys back he'd tried asking about them but been told nothing else was found. Both of them had watched the government agent then go to talk to other members of their group but assumed that wasn't regarding any other items.

Nancy narrowed her eyes, but stood, going over to the jewellery box to get the bag. “Because the government agents said they'd found them and they seemed most likely to belong to me.”

Robin nodded, holding her hand out for the bag. “So little miss reporter got handed some items she knew definitely weren't hers and instead of say, asking any of the people who had actually been in the Russian base if they knew whose they were decided to keep them for herself and never question the origins?” She challenged, reaching out to take them when Nancy showed no sign of handing them over.

“I recognised them. I've tried remembering why I recognise them so I could return them.” Nancy insisted.

“Again, why didn't you just ask me, ask Steve, Dustin, Erica, if any of us knew who these rings belonged to?” Robin challenged, Steve's hand coming to rest palm up on her shoulder although he remained silently watching the scene.

Nancy glared, “Because I should know whose they are.” She snapped. “If I could just-”

“Pay more attention to the people around you, you'd know.” Steve interrupted when it looked like Nancy would go into a rant about her memory to try and justify not asking. “The reason you'd recognise these is I was always wearing one of them the entire time you knew me.” His voice was calm, but Robin could feel the tension in him, and a glance over at him showed his current rings had been swapped. She didn't think he'd go back to using the set she held even as she put the bag in his hand.

For a moment it looked like Nancy would scoff before she narrowed her eyes on Steve's hands, as if only just realising he still wore a ring. “But why would there be 6 of them?” She asked. “Only Eddie wears that many or more at a time.”

“Because I swap them out when I feel like it.” That wasn't the explanation Robin had received and she doubted the full one would be offered right now. “Thanks for returning them finally. I'm more annoyed that even when I asked specifically about the rings those agents didn't mention them to me at all.”

“Oh.” Nancy deflated as she realised Steve wasn't going to yell at her. She seemed not to notice Robin's gaze was still hard. “Yeah, sorry I didn't remember or, as Robin rightly said, ask whose they were earlier.”

At that Robin leant forward again, knowing her smile was colder than she'd normally direct at friends. “Please do ask if this happens in the future, because Steve shouldn't have had to replace his rings for you to delay solving a mystery this long.”

Nancy nodded, “I will. Are you two sure you aren't-?”

“Best friends and protective friends at that. You might be pretty but you aren't Stevie.” Robin reaffirmed, before sighing and trying to let her annoyance go. “Shall we put a film on or something?”

Steve hopped up, going to the stairs to listen for where Nancy's parents might be. “Probably not a film. I think Ted is still watching something, unless you're about to suggest going back to mine.”

“Funnily enough, Dingus, I was.” Robin agreed, also getting up. If she hadn't wanted to get him his rings back she'd have suggested going there to hang out from the start but now that was done she would happily swap hang out locations.

/\/\

Perhaps he'd just been young, but Steve had never thought he'd have to get more rings, after finding six of them. Emotions had seemed simple to him, nothing like the tumult he'd been going through and while six rings had stretched before now he was learning that getting more was necessary.

He didn't question how, in getting those original rings back, he knew that one already meant heartbreak and grief, while the rest weren't needed any more. It just seemed reasonable; an escalation of the swap from the ring saying everything is good to saying his world was crashing before he lost them, to now having its hopefully final meaning be grief.

Then there was Eddie's ring, the mixed feelings ring, or as Steve still thought of it, a question mark ring. He hadn't meant to claim it, but when taking the rings off so the hospital didn't dispose of them he hadn't been able to let it go, even to hand it to Dustin. He'd covered by swapping it out with the stressed ring and repeating that Eddie wanted him to wear a different ring.

Honour: A word Steve had only ever heard directed to him jokingly, but Eddie used for his ring being worn. It boggled his mind a bit to realise how sincere the other was being with him. A lot of things did when it came to Eddie, like the fact he'd called Steve a good person out of nowhere and without prompting. Most people just complained about or insulted who he used to be and when he tried talking with Robin about it she'd got mad at herself before repeating how good a person he was now. That hadn't helped his bewilderment, just added another cause for it.

“Dingus, why are you glaring at your rings and a notebook?” Robin asked, draping over his shoulder and bringing Steve's mind back into Family Video and the slow work day they were trying to keep busy through.

“I need more of them but don't want to go around with even more rings in my pocket. Or know how to label what feelings they'd be for.” He grumbled.

She leant closer, forcing Steve to bend with her so she could see the notebook better. “Yeah starting from scratch is dumb. Write what you have rings for already, Your terms not mine or anyone else's, and see what you think is missing after that. Then see which stand out as unlikely to be worn often. Those could live in your car or wallet or something instead of your pocket.” Saying this she moved to his side and laid the rings out on a clear page of the notebook.

As Steve considered the idea Robin wandered off to check on the only customer. It was a pretence he knew, but one he's grateful for, even as the biggest necessity in his list becomes evident.

There's nuance, and different rings for sadness, anger, confusion, embarrassment, heartbreak, but only 'good' and 'trying to see positives' for good emotions. Good was one he barely knew how to quantify now and 'trying to see positives' didn't actually feel good to wear. But Steve wasn't feeling constantly bad, he knew that. He felt hopeful, amused, warm, and loved; like these friends were a real family.

Plus the question mark ring was where good and bad emotions were fighting in him.

“Do you think Eddie will come ring shopping with us?” He called out, settling on the four emotions he needed new rings for and looking around the store for the first time in a while.

“I think I can fit that in, yes Stevie.” Eddie replied, leaning on the counter opposite him. Robin was stood beside him looking over at Steve in amusement.

He shifted a little, looking between them, expecting to get teased. “You've been here how long?”

“Couple minutes, was going to block the page to say hi but you looked so adorably focused.” Eddie shrugged. “Are these all your current ring meanings? You've still not told me-” The words broke off as he read the list, fingers tapping over empty spots noted for new rings

Robin had started snickering, needing no words to tease once Steve met her gaze, but stopped in confusion at Eddie's reaction. “Sure they are. He's decided he needs to show more emotions than that now.”

“Like more positive ones, you mean?” He asked, a sharp gaze stabbing at her. “Little Miss Platonic, why haven't you told him to get more or change all the meanings so he doesn't only have negative emotions to show sooner?”

“What?” The demand was when Steve realised their focus might be surrounding him but it didn't currently involve him. “When did those change?”

He blinked at them, seeing a tussle break out for the notebook and wondering what Robin meant as he glanced as the ring on his finger now, bronze, looking for positivity, then back to her. “They didn't?” He asked, trying to remember what he'd told her they meant. He'd probably described situations which made him change to each ring he was replacing after Starcourt since describing his feelings isn't easy without them. “What did you think they meant?”

Instead of saying anything she snatched the pen to start writing her understanding of the rings down, Eddie's eyes getting wider as he read them. “That's – That's some difference.”

“Did I explain when I'd swap to wearing them before?” Steve asked, unable to read upside down and just getting frowned at as Robin made it clear he had and she didn't like the meaning mix-up it had apparently caused. “You still know how to help anyway.” He tried to reassure, hoping to lessen the glare.

“Just how pissed should I be at Nancy?” Robin demanded instead, angrily gesturing to the embarrassment ring. “How much didn't you say when I thought you might date her again?”

Both Steve and Eddie stepped back from her anger as Steve frantically tried to remember what he'd used to explain that ring and how it involved Nancy. “You literally said you didn't need to know that story.”

“Apparently I do now if just her visiting your workplace has you feeling embarrassed enough to change rings over it.” Robin insisted. “So, story-time please Steve. What happened with Nancy Wheeler?”

/\/\

“Did you argue with Buckley?” Jonathan asked, sitting down beside Nancy and taking in the glare levelled at them.

She looked over as well but soon looked away. “The rings were Steve's. She found them but didn't seem this mad then.”

For a moment he just nodded, before straightening to look for Steve. “I didn't imagine the rings he used to wear then? I guess between you giving them back and now we've been spoken about. Makes sense I think.”

“What does?”

“Steve's best friend being pissed when he told her what happened between us three. I did wonder if she knew anything beyond the rumours.” He explained, waving when Steve emerged from the kitchen.

Nancy stared, trying to understand how Robin's anger came from that, even as she smiled at Steve coming over.

“You two okay? Your move back to Hawkins going well?” Steve asked, relaxed, a ring shaped into a shield on his hand.

“We're good, are you?” Jonathan asked, but carried on without pausing for a reply, “Realised that we never apologised for everything during that Halloween. I thought you'd broken up honestly, until Dustin said you were taking flowers to Nance when he asked for help.”

“I'm good and thank you. It's all history now and I'm pretty sure there was no coming back from that argument. I'm sorry for everything bad I did back then too. Some fault on both sides, I think.” Steve hurried to accept the apology but followed Nancy's gaze when she looked back over to Robin. “And Robs will calm down soon enough. She just got the meanings of some of my rings wrong and is mad about it.”

“What meanings do they have?” Nancy asked, glancing back at the ring he currently wore. “Eddie too? He did the hand hold thing too today.”

His nose scrunched but he looked amused, “Yeah but also no. That's cause Henderson tried using Robin's ring checking as evidence I'm dating her and Eds wants to see if he'll insist the same for someone else doing it. I'm preparing for anything Robin does to me to get copied or escalated for a while.”

“You're cool with that?” Jonathan challenged, looking shocked at the thought and Nancy could remember their fight from years back, wondering if that was why.

“Robin would kill me if I wasn't. Plus it means my empty home is a lot noisier with laughter now.” Steve mused. “Yeah, I'm pretty happy about Eddie's game.” As he finished speaking his hand dipped into his back pocket, a practised gesture that seemed absent enough to be unnoticeable as his ring was swapped out while he looked around the gathering. “I'd better check the kids aren't causing trouble over there.”

There was silence between them for a moment as he headed away. “So that's the first time I've actually seen that happen.” Jonathan eventually commented.

“No wonder. If he hadn't just mentioned his ring I'd have missed it.” She agreed, wondering why Steve would hide the gesture but do it so openly. It was more evidence that she hadn't known him as well as she thought.

/\/\

Dustin was getting frustrated. He'd thought it was a blatant lie when Robin said she was checking Steve's ring each time she took his hands upon greeting. Then he'd thought maybe it was valid but still an excuse after noticing them was what started calming Eddie down in the boat-shed.

Now Eddie kept waiting behind Robin as she checked Steve's rings, draping himself over the side of him left free when they watched movies. It was getting honestly difficult to get a hold of either of them separately and Dustin didn't trust it.

“Why are you leading Eddie on?” He accused one of the few times Steve picked him up without the other already in the car.

“I'm not, but thanks, really flattering view of me you have there.” Steve huffed.

Dustin narrowed his eyes, “You're straight Steve.” He stated as if he was being dumb. “Why are you accepting his flirting when you aren't into him? Are you going to hurt him?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “One, that's not for you to question for me. Neither of us are going to get hurt. Two, Eddie checked and keeps checking we both know where we stand in this. Three, thanks for winning me that bet.”

“Bet? What bet?” He demanded but they'd pulled up in the trailer park and Eddie was already climbing in.

He'd clearly heard the question and leaned over Steve's seat, pulling his hand up to check the ring while asking, “Yeah Stevie, what bet are you telling Dustin about?”

“One I won cause he got in telling me off for leading you on.” He smirked, taking his hand back to pull off again. “Seatbelt.”

“As if I wouldn't follow you anywhere, Big boy. Keep leading.” Eddie remarked flippantly before swatting at Dustin, “But talk about clouded vision, Shithead. So when Robin does it they're dating but I do it and I'm being led on.”

Dustin spluttered for a moment, but Steve's smirk got sharper, “So that's me and Robin one each, you none. Lucas could be anyone's but I think you have a shot at Mike.”

/\/\

Robin helped Steve find it, the final ring he’d buy for himself hopefully. She’d helped with everything else in his realisations since Eddie’s game began and was trying to make him share his feelings with Eddie now.

The ring had been both Steve’s way to delay that admission and his hope that Eddie would bring the conversation up for him. If only because he had no intention of advertising the feeling it meant at all.

It should have worked too, except he was never wearing the ring when Eddie first arrived, never able to get privacy when the change was noticed by the other and didn’t see how it could change with their kids all wanting attention constantly. He almost felt like his crush was doomed to silence and Robin’s teasing over it but refused to accept it, adapting instead. He started swapping rings when even slightly feeling besotted, hearing Dustin raving over something Eddie had done or a song reminding him of the other. Steve even started practising demanding private moments and dragging Robin off during her greetings, just waiting for Eddie to question this new ring.

“Is it my turn to ask for a private chat, big boy?” Eddie asked, finally seeing Steve’s latest ring worn as he arrived.

Everyone else was filing through the house to the kitchen or Steve’s pool and barely glanced their way as Steve tugged Eddie upstairs, blush only noticed by Robin as they went.

“You like my ring then?” He asked only after they were alone. It was partly to delay the admission, but mostly a genuine question. When looking for this ring he’d specifically wanted something that reminded him of Eddie’s rings and the coiled serpent design seemed fitting.

/\/\

Eddie for the first time in a while didn’t know what to say. He wanted to ramble about how much he liked it and wanted a similar one for himself; wanted to interrogate Steve on this new ring when he’d been resolute on pairing rings up if he found an emotion missing from their meanings in the future; wanted to ask if it was a way to get his attention.

It was mostly the last of the list actually, but that felt too vulnerable to say.

“It’s metal, but why? You said you didn’t want to get any more after our shopping spree.” He asked, holding back all the words trying to tumble out.

Steve fell backwards onto his bed, heaving a sigh and making Eddie wonder if he’d asked the wrong thing. “Because a crush isn’t as simple an emotion to indicate and I didn’t want you to make similar errors to Robin if I paired it up with other rings straight away.” He muttered to the ceiling.

Hope flickered to light where it had dimmed at the sigh. “A crush? On who?” There was a guess, especially with how Dustin had been distracted from his questions the week before, but he wanted to hear it for himself.

“You.” Steve said, rolling onto his side and watching Eddie as he stood just beside the door, never having moved since they came in.

He moved now, taking the hand and brushing his thumb over Steve’s ring. “That explains why you weren’t wearing it when I wasn’t around at first, but not why you’re wearing it now.”

“Will mentioned you earlier, some of the chats you’ve had with him over Mike.” He hummed.

“Your love for those kids is cute.” Eddie grinned, kneeling on the bed beside him. “It also doesn’t say what you want to happen now. You seem plenty happy with me copying how Robs treats you but are you wanting more than that?”

Everything in Eddie was screaming to just ask for more, or lean down and kiss Steve, or do something other than gently prying more details out from the gorgeous boy rolling around on the bed.

“Maybe you could kiss me too sometimes, see how we feel about going further when my house isn’t full of everybody else.” Steve smirked up at him, as if reading the desires on his face. “Oh and invitations to either your band practices or performances. I want those too. Who knows maybe the Corroded Coffin boys could just fit in with this chaotic family of ours over time.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asked, leaning so their lips were millimetres apart. “Want to join our families? You already thinking of marriage, big boy?”

Steve leant up for a small kiss, “Forever with you sounds like torturous bliss. Where do I sign up?”

“I think you already have.” They both grinned into the deep kiss Eddie pulled him into then.