#kiss off fic

[cherrycoloredfaith]

BEAUTIFUL artwork for Kiss Off by my beautiful friend Ashley!!! she's so talented and beautiful thank you SO MUCH for being a part of this @ash-yuh

Kiss Off

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 5

Chapter 4

He left the bar first and set off down the road alone, getting to his car in a matter of minutes. He didn’t know where he was going, just that he needed to breathe again. Driving aimlessly for nearly twenty minutes he realized he was leaving the city, going to the only other place he knew: Munson Construction. The storm clouds in his head that had vanished at the bar returned on the drive. The roads were dark, but the air was clearer out here, and Steve couldn’t get enough of it. The wind wrecked his hair, whipping it around as he took deep breaths. Steve wondered if he should just book it to Hawkins and give up on all this. Wondered if he was ever really meant to leave his hometown. Wondered if he really messed up and should have just married that girl from high school. 

Parking in that same red dirt parking lot, he didn’t ask himself what he was doing because there was no point. He was going to wait it out, stay out of Robin’s hair and give her no reason to worry. Getting out of his car, he headed towards the front to lean on the hood and look out into the surrounding woods that reminded him of home. Except you could see right through them to the street lights beyond the thin cluster of trees. If he was in Hawkins, he could have looked out on a number of lakes within a few miles. Perfectly hidden and perfectly alone. Even out here, he could still hear distant cars from the busy highways, pulling him out of his reveries.

Steve wished he had a pack of cigarettes. Smoking never really tempted Steve until moments like these, where he was alone, searching for some sense of peace.  Pausing, he remembered the key to the clubhouse sitting in his pocket.

Maybe Eddie had some in his locker or office somewhere? Would it hurt to take just one?

Steve tossed his keys in the air, caught them, and thought once again, fuck it, they gave him a key anyway, right?

A single light illuminated the steps going up to the door, the screen door slamming against Steve’s back as he bent to unlock the deadbolt. Once inside, he felt along the wall for a light switch and failed. 

In the dark, his outstretched arms led his way around to the lockers, trying to use what little light came from outside the doorway. The red hard hat was the second locker from the right if his memory served him correctly, so once his hands made contact with the wall of open shelves, he started to rummage. He felt a small, soft cardboard box in the back of the highest shelf, thought, yes, and fumbled to open it in the dark. Just one. 

Steve heard a creak of the floor and his head snapped up, trying to adjust his eyes to the dark hallway beyond that led to Eddie’s office. Nothing but pitch black.

Suddenly, a yell rang out–no, more like a battle cry. The lights came on in a flash, giving Steve just enough time to register the baseball bat swinging for his head. He cowered down, covering his face with his arms as he shut his eyes tight, preparing for the blow. 

When none came, Steve peaked out of one eye at the scene before him. There stood Eddie, in Garfield pajama pants, bat still raised high, and hair coming out of its bindings–a look of utter confusion cast upon his face. 

“Whoa, dude, what the fuck?” Steve exclaimed once he’d found his voice. Is this guy going to kill me?

“Me, what the fuck? No, you, what the fuck?!” Eddie retorted, not moving to lower the bat. He looked from Steve’s face to his hands where he still clung to the pack of smokes. “Did you come all the way out here for those? I could have told you where to get your own. Jesus fucking Christ.”

“No, Eddie, God, I was just–” Steve realized he didn’t have a good explanation for this situation other than the truth. “Look, my roommate needed me out of the apartment for a bit, I was just driving around, looking for somewhere to go and I ended up here.” He shrugged. “And I wanted something to do. What are you doing here?” Steve was pointedly not looking at Eddie’s silly pajama pants. The last thing he needed was to be punched by his boss for laughing at his sleepwear.

“Shit, well, no fucking point now,” Eddie sighed and rested the bat on his shoulder. “I live here, asshole.” 

Steve didn’t know what to say to that, so he picked the first question that popped into his head. “Oh. So… do you normally go to sleep at 10:30 on Friday nights?”

Shutting his eyes, Eddie finally dropped the bat to his side, and Steve could breathe again. When he opened them again, he glared at Steve. “For your information, I was watching a goddamn movie.”

It finally clicked. “Why didn’t you say you lived here before? I thought that was your office,” said Steve, looking towards the dark hallway.

“Because not everyone knows. It was supposed to be a temporary thing, I just didn’t want to stay with Wayne anymore, and it was convenient. I pay him rent, but it’s nothing like what the city would cost me.” He looked defensive. 

Steve just nodded, unsure of what to make of it all. Before he knew it, Eddie had walked back into his office–bedroom– and then returned with one shoe on his foot, the other in his hand, his bat nowhere to be seen. He hopped down the hallway trying to pull the other sneaker on.

“Alright,” said Eddie when he succeeded. “Come on, then.”

Steve didn’t move as he passed by, wafting a soft, sweet scent from his clothes. “Huh?”

“You need to waste some time, let’s waste it.” He was leading Steve through a door he hadn’t noticed before leading out of the kitchen. He grabbed a tin lunchbox as they headed outside. Steve followed as if on autopilot onto a surprisingly cozy, covered back porch, fit with a table, chairs, and even a couch and coffee table that made up for the missing furniture inside. It looked homey. 

Eddie set the box down to plug in some string lights that provided enough illumination for them to see one another. They sat on opposite sides of the couch; once Steve saw Eddie prop up his feet, he did, too, hoping to give any semblance of a relaxed state–when, really, his heart was hammering in his chest. 

When Eddie opened the lunchbox in his lap, Steve immediately got a whiff of what was inside, and he prayed a silent thank you to whatever fates led him here. Eddie looked over at Steve with a grin. “You seemed like you’d need something stronger than those.”

That was the second time Steve forgot about the cigarettes clutched in his palm; he decided to set them down and nod as a sign of his gratitude. 

Then, Eddie started to roll his own joint as if he’d done this a million times. Steve even saw that he had proper rolling papers. He watched him with fascination while Eddie focused on his task. No words were spoken between them, but something about the silence felt comfortable. No, not comfortable, but… anticipating.  Steve stared in awe at how relaxed he was, delicately licking the edge of the paper to hold it closed. Eddie’s hair was almost completely out of the low bun it was in and long strands dangled down, creating a curtain around his eyes. Steve had the urge to brush it aside.

“How’s the sunburn?” Eddie asked. 

“The what?” Steve blinked out of his trance. His heart was pounding. 

“Dude, you’ve got to snap out of it. Did I scare you that bad?” Eddie leaned in, searching Steve’s eyes for something.

“No, no, I’m fine, I swear. Thank you.” What was he thanking him for? Steve was screaming at himself on the inside, begging him to regain his cool. “I’m so sorry–for barging in like this. I can go, you don’t have to let me stay.”

“I know, Steve. It’s cool. To be honest it gets… a little lonely living out here, not being in the city. Your presence is welcomed, for now.” He shot Steve another smile and began to light the end of the joint. Steve starts to wonder if Eddie has already done this once tonight based on his low, honeyed voice, the slightest glaze over his eyes. 

“Where’s Wayne’s?” wondered Steve.

“Closest suburb to the east of here. Not ten minutes down the road when there’s no traffic. I just needed some space to learn how to take care of myself, but still save some money.” He took a drag. “And to smoke without worrying about Mrs. Wheeler next door calling the cops,” he added, chuckling devilishly low as if it was something that actually happened. 

Steve took the pass, inhaling deeply, trying to hide his little coughs. “What movie?” he asked as he stretched his arm back out for Eddie to take the joint from his hands.

Eddie looked over and laughed. “Can you speak more than two words at a time?”

Steve rolled his eyes and snatched his hand back, moving it out of Eddie’s grasp to take another hit. “Fine, fine! I mean, what movie were you watching before I broke into your house?”

“Technically you didn’t break in, you have a key.”

Steve flushed. “That’s another thing to get back to. Are you avoiding the question?”

“Never. I was watching Back to the Future 2,” he said matter-of-factly, chin held high as he took back the joint, fingers brushing Steve’s, sending a shiver up his arm. “Arguably, the superior of the two films. With triple the Michael Fox. ” Eddie looked up at the lights dreamily. 

“Dude, what? You’re lying to me. The original is so much–wait, what?” he asked, caught off guard by Eddie’s last words.

He laughed, “Kidding, Harrington! So far, the original one reigns supreme.” He winked, but his gaze didn’t linger. “That was actually going to be my first time seeing it until…” he gestured to the two of them sitting on the couch. 

The confusion Steve was experiencing at Eddie’s implications caused him to flush again. “Oh,” was all he said in response. Maybe he should ask him if he’s into guys. “So why give out keys to literally your home? Does everyone have them?” Steve screamed at himself in his head. 

“Usually I don’t have to worry about anyone I work with thinking anything valuable is inside. Tonight I was sorely mistaken. And no, not everyone has one, but anyone needs to be able to get in, so…” Eddie shrugged. “It’s worked out for me so far. I keep my room locked too during the day, so don’t get any ideas.” He smiled.

Steve decided not to ask why he received one after his first day, and instead decided to change the subject. “My roommate wouldn’t really have kicked me out herself, but I knew she’d want the place since she was the only one getting lucky tonight.” Oh, God. Why did he have to bring that up?

“Ahhhh, are we in love with said ‘roommate’? Here on a feel-sorry-for-yourself evening escapade?” Eddie tilted his head to the side, peering at Steve through lidded eyes. 

“No. Seriously, it’s not like that. She’s my best friend. We went to this place downtown… near Pennsylvania Avenue,” Steve was cautious with his words, but he couldn’t help it. He had to know. “I forgot the name. Do you know any bars over there?”

Eddie met Steve’s eyes, but his were unreadable. “Yeah, I know of one. Did they play a lot of dream pop?”

“Yes!” Steve exclaimed, trying not to sound too overly excited that Eddie picked up on a similar detail as him. And appeared to have visited the same bar as him. This probably meant he was cool, but he still couldn’t tell anything about him. He should just ask. “Yes, that one. Red door?”

Eddie nodded, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Tell me more about her. Your roommate.”

Steve got lost in talking about his best friend for a moment. He was familiar with giving the usual exposition of how they met working at an ice cream parlor but had gone to school together for years. They were inseparable ever since, up until she graduated and decided to go to college, which Steve hadn’t got in. He was so grateful she was close by, but he always felt that he couldn’t follow. When Robin’s scholarship finally let her live off campus, Steve was elated to come join her somewhere new. 

“So, she’s the whole reason why you're here?” Eddie asked. 

“Kind of. She’s who really got me out of my hometown,” replied Steve, shrugging.

“Hmm, sounds like you might be in love with her…” Eddie repeated. “Why else would you want to move just to work such a shit job with such a shit boss?” He gestured to himself, topped with a sickly sweet smile. 

“Seriously, dude, that ship has sailed. Or never even made it in the water. Or doesn’t even exist. I don’t–I don’t see her like that,” Steve answered, not sure if Eddie could pick up on what he meant. The weed was starting to cause his thoughts to swim around in his head. “This was the only job I got called back for.”

“Oh,” said Eddie. The joint had sat forgotten between his fingers as they spoke. Now, Eddie lit it once more, taking a drag. Instead of turning his head to blow the smoke away from Steve like he had before, he leaned in, locked eyes with him; he blinked slowly as he directed his exhale at Steve’s face in a powerful gust. Steve groaned, made a face and put up his hands, pretending to be bothered by it while his stomach did somersaults; he had to fight to not stare at his lips. “Guess Wayne was desperate, huh?” Eddie kidded.

“Hah, yeah, I guess so,” Steve nervously laughed to shake himself out of the trance Eddie put him in. He knew Eddie was reasonably joking, but it wasn’t far from what Steve suspected was the truth. But speaking the words out into the world of his failures didn’t hurt as much with the weed in his system. It didn’t feel so much his own fault as it was the nature of the outside world. Life outside a small town. Simple truths you learn as you age. Finding a job is hard, being gay is dangerous, etc. 

A quiet silence fell over them as they finished those last puffs of the joint. It was comfortable, but Steve couldn’t help but feel the absence of the words between them. It was nearing midnight according to Eddie’s digital watch on his wrist. Was it really just hours before Steve overheard Eddie complaining about him? Saying he was going to “ruin everything”? 

Steve jostled at the memory, the same concerns from before settling in. He had to ask. 

“Eddie… What happened last summer?” Steve urged. 

Their eyes met again. When did they get so close? Steve could see the expanses of Eddie’s brown eyes. They suddenly darkened, and it was as if Steve was being pulled forward ever so slightly. 

Then, Eddie pulled his legs back, leaned forward, and propped his elbows on his knees, putting distance between them as if nothing had happened. He looked out to the darkness of the woods ahead.

“Nothing that actually concerns you. I’m sorry you heard me yell,” he revealed, defeated and ashamed. “This guy on my crew last year, he caused a lot of problems. Didn’t treat Max well either.”

Steve’s stomach flipped again; so Eddie was referring to him with that outburst. Steve wasn’t sure what this last guy had to do with him. He hadn’t caused any problems like that, right? He barely remembered what he did that day.  Steve paused, taking in the information; he had that same feeling again, that there was more to be said about his guy, but before he could pry further, Eddie interrupted. 

“Anyways, you might want to be heading back before it gets too late. You good to drive? I don’t have anywhere for you to crash,” asked Eddie. 

Taken aback, Steve nodded, feeling dismissed. They stood to walk inside; Steve paused to assess how high he was only to find he was hardly buzzed. He was surprised, certain that he felt so much more a second ago.

Steve couldn’t tell what Eddie was thinking as his face was blank when they walked along a dirt path in the trailer to the front door. Eddie held it open for him as Steve tried to think of something to say.

“Thanks! For hanging out I mean, and the smoke.” Steve hoped he was successful at attempting to sound casual. In return, Eddie gave a familiar grin, nodding once and shutting the door behind him without another word.

Steve stood there for a moment, wondering why bringing up this guy set Eddie off so badly. He wished he could have stayed for longer, but it was getting late. Sighing, Steve brushed off his nerves and walked towards his car to head home. 

As Steve drove that evening, despite abruptly being sent home, he couldn't help but to be hopeful. Steve could drop the whole last summer issue if Eddie could. He imagined himself enjoying himself at work, making Eddie laugh, making him proud. Becoming his friend. Really learning how to do the work. He smiled to himself as he walked up to his apartment. He didn’t even feel so lonely when giggling drifted up from under Robin’s door. Steve went to bed in his new room finally feeling a little at peace. He fell asleep to the image of Eddie’s smile behind his eyes. 

[starrystevie]

18+ | cw: improper use of plumping lipgloss, mentions of alcohol, oral sex, it's steddie endgame i promise | crossposted on twitter

it’s no secret, steve likes making out. likes isn’t a strong enough word. he loves making out. loves grabbing hold of someone and pulling them close, loves laying over them on a couch, on a bed, hips just barely moving as he takes them apart with lips and teeth and tongue.

that doesn’t change once he’s had a few drinks either, body tingling with tequila or vodka or something equally strong that has his inhibitions thrown to the wind. he’s always able to find someone willing to dance with him, hips pressed together and arms wrapped around shoulders.

it’s usually girls, pretty things with pretty hair that draw steve in like a punch drunk happy moth to an overzealous flame. they’ll turn their heads with a flirty shy smile and follow him out to the dance floor before pressing up tight against his front.

they’ll curl their fingers into his where they rest low on their hips and keep him close. they’ll drop their heads onto his shoulder and let their breath ghost over the side of his face until he gets the all too obvious hint.

steve likes making out on a dance floor. no, not likes.

loves.

that is until his lips are covered in sticky, sweet lip gloss and he’s pulling away because his tongue is on fire, tingling from something other than alcohol and the thrill of being in a pretty girl’s mouth.

“what is that?” he yells into her ear over the bumping bass.

“sorry,” the girl says sheepishly, “it’s my lipgloss. it plumps my lips.”

she goes back in to kiss steve once more and he isn’t exactly going to deny her. her lips are pretty just like her, plump and shiny and all too inviting, so he kisses her back. the gloss is spicy on the cracks of his lips, on the tip of his tongue when he he pulls her lip in between his teeth. it’s addictive in a way. he wonders if his own lips will plump up from the contact alone.

later, when they say their drawn out goodbyes outside of the club, he’ll ask to borrow the lip gloss since his night isn’t over yet. she’ll pull it out with a grin and apply it so sweetly to her own lips and then to his. her touch is gentle and precise before she puts the tube back in her purse and then connects their lips for a final time.

steve likes to make out. no, not likes.

loves.

so he goes to a bar around the corner, robin hot on his coat tails with some blonde she picked up attached to her side, and he’ll order a vodka soda that he can sip through a straw so he doesn’t destroy his pretty glossed lips. the bar is grungy, but steve almost prefers that, able to blend into smoky shadows and dark corners while he watches the crowd.

while he watches someone in the crowd watch him back.

he has wild curly hair and handcuffs on his belt and steve swears he’s staring at his lips and the way the light is bouncing off of the gloss, but he isn’t too sure. not until there’s wild curly hair and handcuffs on a belt standing right in front of him.

steve has a different confidence with guys. maybe it’s because he has to read them a little differently. maybe its because he gets read by them a little differently, too. but flirting is flirting all the same and steve finds himself biting at his lip and licking away some of the spicy lip gloss with a wince as it burns the inside of his mouth.

curly hair handcuff guy is cuter once they start talking for a while, all animated and vibrant, a bright shiny beacon in a dingy bar. he finds out his name is eddie with a lingering handshake that means something, fingers trailing and tingling like they had a spice to them, too.

they don’t dance, but they do end up out back, sharing a cigarette as drunk people stumble around them. it’s easy enough for eddie to light, flame from the lighter sparking in his big, brown eyes.

“so steve,” he says, flicker of some other kind of spark in his eye, “where to?”

and steve knows how to do this part. he grabs the cigarette out of eddie’s mouth and puffs on it himself, blowing the smoke over his head. “is it too forward to say i don’t think i can last much longer without getting my mouth on you?”

eddie grins and lets his eyes flit down. “no. is it too forward for me to say that i’d let you do anything to me, mouth or otherwise?”

he takes the cigarette back and steve can see his trace left behind on the filter, can see when the hint of gloss hits eddie’s lips if the wrinkle of his eyebrows is anything to go off of.

he doesn’t say anything, just winks over at steve. he doesn’t say anything, just drags him into a taxi. he doesn’t say anything, just wraps a hand high over steve’s thigh, just pushes steve up against his apartment wall, just fumbles over handcuffs and pushes down his jeans.

steve likes making out. no, not likes.

loves.

if he loves making out, then he really fucking craves giving head. he feels like a cartoon animal with hearts popping out of his head as he pulls eddie’s cock out of his briefs. he licks his lips like he’s starving and regrets it when the gloss singes his tongue.

steve looks up from his knees and swipes a finger over his lips, holding it up high for eddie to see. “taste it,” he whispers.

eddie’s eyes widen, but he obediently bends his neck, tongue lolling out so he can lap at steve’s finger. “your lip gloss is spicy,” eddie says flatly as he recoils.

steve nods. “and it’s going on your cock unless you say otherwise.”

which is how steve finds himself turning eddie into a writhing mess. his hands hold onto the backs of eddie’s shaking knees as he works over his cock. his hair stings as eddie tugs on the strands. his eyes water as he sucks him in deeper and deeper into his throat, spicy lipgloss tingly on his tongue and cheeks.

“you are a fucking wonder,” eddie whines, hips humping as he grinds himself further into steve’s mouth. “just fucking made for this, huh?”

steve pulls off and spits on his cock to jack his hand over it as he pulls the head to his lips. he rubs the sensitive tip over his lips just to watch eddie twitch.

“you have no idea.”

he blows a line of cool air over the gloss that’s left there and drinks in the way eddie’s eyes roll back in his head before swallowing him back down, reveling in the spice that hits the back of his throat as he does so.

when eddie comes, he pulls steve off so he can paint his pretty, puffy, plump lips with it, dragging his cock over them to make a mess. it’s not a surprise when steve licks it off, spicy and salty and a special kind of sweet that he thinks is all eddie. he leans up to place a kiss into the thatch of hair over eddie’s cock, smearing behind come and shiny lip gloss.

“you gonna wait for me to come in my pants or can i go fuck you?”

steve likes making out. no, not likes.

loves.

and he loves giving eddie head. and he loves fucking eddie. and he loves waking up with a spicy, sticky residue on the side of his cheek after falling asleep with his head on eddie’s chest.

and maybe, just maybe, he’ll love eddie someday, too.

[demaparbat-hp]

“Zuko?” Ming searched for the Prince in his silence. He was staring intently out of the window, mouth blown wide open, eyes distant and awed and sincere. Oh. His whisper was a fragile, breathless thing.

“We're here.”

Ming’s doubts and concerns are hers alone, but that doesn't mean the rest of the Crew doesn't share them. This sudden mission, Zuko's change in attitude, his obsession with the Water Tribes...

Ming tries to discover the root of it all in For the Spirits Chapter VIII: Make You Stay, but will Zuko let her in?

[stevebabey]

no one asked but this is the post that inspired this! thank u immensely for the luv <3 number 1 comment was wondering what steve’s bids were & from his pov, so without further ado...enjoy — part one here!

—

Begrudgingly, Eddie has to admit that Robin might be right.

It’s impossible not to be looking for the bids since he brought them up to her. Even though Eddie was fully expecting to tell Robin to suck it, maybe even wager what little money he had against this working out, Eddie can’t help but watch for them in every interaction. And fuck, she’s right.

They’re little, but they’re there.

The first one Eddie would’ve missed if he wasn’t looking for it. Actually, that’s a lie; Eddie does miss it, until Robin points it out, the nosy bitch. It’s minuscule and honestly, it just seems like Steve asking his opinion — which friends do all the time! It’s why Eddie brushes right over it.

“Okay, be honest,“ Steve had said, walking and talking as he entered the living room where Robin and Eddie were sprawled across the couches. They were both waiting on him, the three of them set on heading out to the drive-in to catch a film.

Eddie can’t fathom why Steve felt the need to change his outfit for it, but when he returns, he gets it. It’s not quite the usual polo Eddie had grown to like on Steve, this one hanging a little looser, the colour a bit darker than Steve’s usual choice, the sleeves a little shorter — almost midway to a muscle tee.

Steve’s fingers fiddle with the distressed collar of the shirt, smoothing invisible wrinkles and fussing over nothing. He swishes back his floppy hair with a flick of his head. “It’s a new shirt, I know it’s a little different - but what do we think?”

He says we but he’s looking at Eddie.

Eddie, who has taken to trying to reel in his gawp because what the fuck Steve? It’s like he’s well aware of what drives Eddie insane and has specifically leaned into it. Some evil goblin in Eddie’s brain whispers think how good he’d look in your shirt and he squashes it, giving a visible twitch to shut down that train of thought.

From the other couch, Robin clears her throat loudly and smiles sweetly at her best friend. “It looks great, Steve.”

It’s sincere and Steve’s mouth tugs up, nearly a smile but his gaze fast-tracks back to Eddie. Eddie nods in agreement, a bit sluggish from his distracting thoughts and god dammit, the extra exposed skin of Steve’s arms are so not helping. “Yeah, looks... looks good, man.”

Steve smiles, lips pressed together but his shoulders curl in just a bit, deflating just a tad. From where Steve can’t see her, Robin waves her hands wildly and catches Eddie’s attention. He watches as she gestures wildly and it takes a moment to realise what’s she mouthing — ‘A bid! That’s a bid, you idiot!’

Oh fuck, Eddie thinks. Cos it totally was; the question, the focus on Eddie. He doesn’t even think about the logistics of it, of the fact Robin was right, just jumps right into picking up the bid.

“You trying a new style?” Eddie asks and then thanks whatever god invented the whole fake-it-to-you-make-it schtick because he’s feeling so far from casual or confident. “Going metal on me, big boy?”

Eddie just manages to catch the grin that breaks across Steve’s face as he turns away, giving a scoff — it comes out too soft though, giving away his complete lack of annoyance. He pulls that usual Steve Harrington pose, hands sliding onto his hips, and screws his face into some melted smiley-grimace. “Shut up, Munson.”

Eddie grins and goads on the blush that’s beginning on Steve’s neck, a glorious tinged pink colour. “If this shirt is any indication, you’d pull it off just fine.”

Eddie watches the blush climb higher as Steve ignores the comment, his smile still giving him away. He grabs his coat and pats down his jeans — ridiculous tight acid wash jeans that Eddie hates he’s somehow become attracted to — ensuring he has his keys and wallet. Once assured, he looks up at his two friends again, brows raised, and says, “Ready to rock and roll?”

That comment alone has Eddie seriously reconsidering his type in men.

There’s only a brief moment to talk about it when Eddie and Robin cajole Steve into going and getting them both popcorn to get a moment alone. Steve had scoffed, face twitching in the way it did whenever he tried to hold back a bitchy comment, but he still stomped off in the direction of the snack stand.

The moment he’s out of earshot, both voices explode in the back of Eddie’s van.

“What did I say—”

“Jesus H Christ, you were right—”

“Literally how many times do I have—”

“Oh my god, you were right—”

“ —before you realise I’m always—”

“Robin.” He cuts her off, hands landing on her shoulders. Robin eyes them warily, lips still parted from how her rant had been cut off. “Robin, I’m gonna kill you.”

“What?” Robin’s nose scrunches up. “What the hell are you—”

“Oh Christ, I can’t believe- how long have you noticed those bids?” Eddie’s aware he sounds a bit estranged, eyes probably wide and it doesn’t help when he softly shakes Robin back and forth. She lets herself be shaken, hair flying back in forth. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! You are such a bad gay friend!”

Robin smacks his hands off her shoulders with a frown, her freckly face perturbed at Eddie’s outburst. “Dude, it’s not my fault! May I remind you that until very very recently you were seeing someone else? What difference would it have made?”

Eddie waves his hand, disregarding the point with a shake of his head. His unkempt curls cover his face and Eddie sweeps them back in one motion, “What difference would it have made? Oh my, Jesus—“

Whatever long-winded sentence Eddie was about to spit out is lost by the sound of Steve’s approaching footsteps, effectively shutting both of them up.

Eddie flings himself to the other side of the van, putting an unusual amount of distance between Robin and him like they were being caught doing something they shouldn’t.

Robin frowns at him and gestures wildly with her hands in a way that means what the fuck man? Eddie gestures back, though he’s not entirely sure what his fast hand motions are supposed to mean when Steve rounds the door.

He’s got two buckets of popcorn tucked under each arm and Eddie quickly crosses his arms, tucking his hands into his armpits like his stupid hand motions will somehow give him away. 

Steve looks up, stopping just a way from the edge of the van, and looks at the pair of them. His eyes track from Robin still sitting on one of the old cushions and looking two seconds from burying her face in her hands, across to Eddie. He huffs a laugh and kneels on the edge of the van.

“I know he’s gross Robin,” He begins, tone light, as he holds out one of the buckets for Robin to take. “But c’mon, is the distance really necessary?”

Robin snickers as Eddie makes an appalled noise, both of which make Steve smirk. He holds out the other for Eddie to take and Eddie snatches it, glaring at him over the buttery rim for his comment. Then takes a handful and shovels it in because he can’t think of a witty comment to retaliate. Steve crawls into the van and plops himself between them with a content sigh.

“See? Gross.” He teases, shoving his hand into Eddie’s popcorn bucket to grab a handful. Eddie scowls and chews a little faster when the flavour on his tongue seems to register in his brain.

His eyes stare at the popcorn bucket as he chews, then swallows — up the front of the van, the radio that’s tuned into the correct frequency begins playing the opening credits song as the screen changes. Silence sweeps across the drive-in but despite the sudden hush, Eddie has no qualms about breaking it.

“Sweet n’ salty flavour?” He asks Steve, only half attempting a whisper. Robin shushes him instantly, her focus already on the movie that’s beginning. Steve smiles, looking a bit sheepish beneath the glow of the drive-in screen, but he nods.

“I know you like it.” He whispers with a small shrug of his shoulders. Like it wasn’t a big deal. Fuck, Eddie thinks again and hastily feeds himself another handful of popcorn before he says anything majorly stupid in response to that, like: Oh, amazing- have you noticed the big fat crush I have on you as well?

He doesn’t even need to look at Robin to know she’s smiling, smug as ever.

—

Steve, God bless his oblivious little heart, doesn’t even realise he’s doing it.

Steve likes Eddie. Eddie is— god, Eddie is different but he’s good.

He’s this strange amalgamation of traits that Steve can’t comprehend how they fit together in one body or how Eddie manages to pull it all off completely charmingly.

He’s loud, he says rude things, he’s fucking dorky, and far too sweet on the kids — he likes to tease Steve, and yet somehow, when Eddie calls him ‘pretty boy’, Steve knows he’s not actually making fun of him.

Steve likes Eddie, likes his boyishly endearing charm, likes his touchiness towards Steve that no other boy his age is like, likes his messy curls and his ‘holier than thou’ attitude about metal music even though Steve doesn’t get it, like at all. And fuck, Steve really wants Eddie to like him.

It reminds him faintly of when he first started working alongside Robin at Scoops. That thought tickles in the back of his mind, something along the lines of how he had wanted Robin to like him for other reasons, but he doesn’t delve into it.

To Steve, it’s simple: he just wants Eddie to like him.

After the night at the drive-in, between Eddie acting strangely skittish and Robin giving more amused snorts than usual, Steve knows something is up.

He knows they must have discussed something when they sent him on popcorn duty, the bastards. He tries his best to not feel left out; god knows Robin and he have more than a dozen secrets they’ve sworn not to tell anyone but each other.

Besides, Steve trusts Robin to come and tell him if he really needs to know, even if it does worry him a bit. He bites down his anxious thoughts, even trying for a moment to see if there’s a pattern he’s been missing.

That train of thought gets derailed when Steve recalls instead Eddie’s delightful reaction to his new shirt — that Steve definitely hadn’t bought for that specific reason.

Even though Robin had given him that look when he’d first shown it to her — her bright eyes had narrowed, her smile turning a little more coy, and Steve had felt his ears get a little hotter. She hadn’t said anything though, just suggested that he should wear it tomorrow night when they were going out with Eddie.

God, he was glad she suggested it.

Rewinding over Eddie’s parted lips, the way his brown eyes had drank in the details as they trailed up his body and lingered on his arms— Steve had the sudden thought to flex the muscle, just to elicit some reaction, but it had gone out the window at Eddie’s original dismal reaction.

‘Yeah, looks... looks good, man’. Said all aloof, like he hadn’t really thought it. It was like bursting a balloon hidden behind Steve’s ribs, one he wasn’t even aware was there until it was deflating pathetically, making his shoulders sag.

Then— ‘You trying a new style? Going metal on me, big boy?’ And dammit, it’s like Eddie had clocked exactly what calling him ‘big boy’ had done the first time in the Winnebago.

Eddie had then grinned, done another once over of the new shirt, even as Steve pretended to search for his keys and wallet while saying something snarky to try to cover up the heat crawling up his neck. Yet, Steve found himself smiling too because, fuck yes, Eddie liked it too.

But, apparently, whatever Eddie and Robin had discussed wasn’t considered important enough because Robin never brought it up.

The thought and worry about it melt away in Steve’s mind until the memory of that night is about Eddie’s compliment, about his cat-like grin over the popcorn bucket, and how he had leaned over to whisper every bad joke into Steve’s ear all through the movie.

Some of them had been down-right filthy jokes which Eddie only seemed to enjoy more when Steve screwed his face up and nudged Eddie in the ribs, yet unable to hide his smile.

After the third vulgar joke and subsequent nudge, Steve had chided ‘dude’ with a poorly hidden grin. Eddie, smile all cheeky, had nudged him back with a ‘dude’ of his own.

Which, of course, ensued a nudge competition til Robin had given a shush that librarians all over the world would be jealous of. But Steve didn’t even care because he and Eddie were arm to arm, pressed close together and Eddie…didn’t move. Stayed close, like he wanted the closeness the same way Steve did.

Steve only remembers the strange drive-in moment when Robin brings it up finally, on one interesting Saturday night.

It’s not the usual routine; it’s not very often that the whole group gets together to share drinks and get rowdy.

But it was for Robin’s birthday and she’d been persuasive enough to get even the introverts, like Jonathan, to come along. Though, she was aware he’d probably spend the night on a pool lounger, stoned to high heaven. Whatever floats your boat, she’d said, happy for the company in any form.

There’s enough of them there that it almost resembles some sort of party— and makes Steve try not to think about the last small party he threw here. He can tell Nancy notices it too, eyeing the pool a bit too long in a way he’s very familiar with, then taking a swig of beer.

So, Steve heckles them inside — doing a fantastic mothering impression as he waves the group indoors with a promise of pizza, and that has both Jonathan and Argyle perking up and beginning a fast discussion on the best pizza toppings.

Eddie makes a fuss, because of course he does, and moans terribly when Steve tries to roll him off the pool lounger he’s on. He’s had a bit of a joint and some beer, and Steve’s learned that he gets adorably stubborn after some substances.

“Stevie, this is mean,” he had pouted, gripping the edges of the lounger and staring up at Steve with those big brown eyes. “You telling me I did all that bonding with you for nothing? Can’t even lounge by the pool! I’ve got a couch at homeeeee.”

Steve had sent him an amused look of disbelief, hands on his hips after his first round of flicks against Eddie’s arm were apparently fruitless to get him to move. “Really? Didn’t peg you for a gold-digger, Eds.”

Eddie had snorted at that, one hand coming to slap over his mouth. Steve couldn’t quite hear what he had said but the words pegging and anytime slipped through and Steve thinks he could get the gist of that.

“Oh for Christ’s sake,” Steve muttered, feeling the tips of his ears turn warm. He didn’t know how Eddie could be such a menace— or why he enjoyed it so much when he was. Steve waved a hand in the direction of the doors, ignoring Eddie’s delighted snickering. “If you go inside now, you can be on music, alright?”

And that had finally got them all indoors, Eddie whooping and skedaddling through the doors in an instant, with a call of ‘no take backsies!’ echoing behind him.

Inside was much cozier, the whole group a little more connected when squished up on the couches together. Eddie had taken Steve’s word and was jamming a cassette into one of the speakers when Steve made it back inside after scouting around the pool for leftover cans and butts to throw out.

He’s just been thinking about what playful jab he could make at Eddie’s music, like Eddie always did to him when Robin hollered at him from the kitchen.

“Steve!” She’d yelled excitedly and he come to find her quick, brows raised as he entered the kitchen. She was grinning, already a bit jumpy as she got when she had a bit of liquor — but apparently not enough because when Steve saw what she’d called him in for, she’d announced, “Tequila shots!”

Which lead to now. A hazy combination of beer, tequila, and a bit of weed, and Steve is feeling good. Robin had managed to hijack the music not too long ago, with a hiccup of ‘it’s my birthday’ that had Eddie surrendering with a pout.

She’d since put on a bit of everything: some Blondie for Nance, Talking Heads for Jonathan, and some Bowie, just so she and Steve could dance along to ‘Magic Dance’ and she could do all the silly little goblin voices that made them both cackle.

Steve realised at some point that Robin was playing their mixtape, the one she’d made for driving in the morning, and nearly tripped stumbling over to her in his excitement. He grabbed her shoulders, not too hard, and squeezed.

“Is it- is this our mixtape?” Steve asked, words slurring only a bit. Robin gleamed, hair bouncing with her excited nod.

“Yes!” She was already dancing, even though the tape was between songs — because she knew what song was coming. “It’s Springsteen time, Steve!”

Right as the drums to Born to Run filtered out the speaker.

And oh, Steve loves Robin so much. He loves having a best friend that knows his favourite song and gets jittery and excited because she knows it’s about to play— that she put it on this mix for him.

“You’re my best friend!” Steve says, the words bursting out like he can’t control them. He doesn’t even feel embarrassed, just happy, just drunk, and overwhelming happy to be able to have this.

And even though Robin knows this, she still beams, feet dancing along and just begins to sing along with the song, “In the days, we sweat it out on the streets of a runaway American dream…”

It’s a brazen drunken performance from the both of them. Steve’s chest is heaving after just one chorus that he’s pretty sure he put his whole soul into and he’s so fucking happy —and it feels like pure instinct to seek out Eddie, his eyes scouring the room for him.

Eddie’s leaned up against the wall, hiding his smile behind a can and Steve doesn’t think twice about it— doesn’t think about why he’s so drawn to Eddie, why he wants to include him in this happiness — just extends his hand out and grins.

Eddie sees the bid coming this time.

Part Three.

— 

yes i saw all ur lovely tags and MAYBE cried about it. but thats none of ur business.

@orangeandthefairroadkill @swimmingbirdrunningrock @sadcanadianwinter @phantypurple @omg-elledubs-things @henderdads @farfaras @mixsethaddams @prismandblue @kerlypride @bushbees @legitcookie @temporalcoffin @callmesirkay @beautifully-useless @millyditty @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @ninjapirateunicorns @darkwitchoferie @vi-the-best-you-can @psychosnowfox @desert-fern @scarletzgo @cr0w-culture @softpink-candlelight @livingforfictionalcharacters @makewavesandwar @kozuuji @rhapsodyinalto @eddiethesexy @cassaloopa @lightwoodbanethings @qu33rcommunist @moonlitkilljoy @starkdusk @theysherobinbuckley @sanguineterrain @loganwright @sillysparrow @hotcocoaharrington @eddie-munson-is-my-wife @she-is-tim @steddiehearts @sideblogofthcentury @sidebarre @corrodedcoughin @stevieclaus

[shirozora-draws]

... anyway, I got given ideas. Guess this is what happens when I go several months without drawing anything.

First art of 2023, first art post of 2023, and full of the energy I hope to carry into the year. This is the way, and all that.

[amusl02]

Son of Ogre

[justaz]

i saw a tiktok from sapphirerainsky/starry about a love spell and there was no way i could expand on it in a tiktok comment so i’m here. anyway, sorceress casts a spell over camelot that makes everyone fall for the person who has saved them and the intensity of their feelings corresponds to how many times they’ve been saved. so the average camelot citizen is quite fond of merlin while the knights are more forward and flirtatious and offering him gifts and whatnot. and then theres arthur who physically cannot stand being more than -3 centimeters away from merlin at all times, like it physically pains him to not be touching merlin.

anyway the sorceress finds it amusing once they all catch on and confront her. her eyes pin on merlin and she explains the spell and why everyone feels the way they do. since they’re all conscious/aware under the magic, they’re like “wtf?? we know merlin has saved us a time or two here and there but i would literally gut myself and offer my skin to him to keep him warm” especially arthur who is like “i want to mold our bodies together into one to breathe the same air, for our heart to pump the same blood, for our eyes to see the same sky”

so the sorceress is like “well, lets let them save you this time” and snatches merlin before disappearing. the knights are frantic, arthur is quite sure he’s having six heart attacks at once. merlin and the sorceress are in her cottage sipping tea next to a fire. she’s chatting with some serving boy who has somehow saved not just the king but all of camelot at least three times and then boom apparently she’s talking to freaking emrys??? he asks politely for her to undo her enchantment and she’s like “holy fuck yeah ofc i’m so sorry”

the knights get a clearer head to search for merlin and eventually the sorceress just returns him and arthur drags him into a bone crushing hug and is babbling all this nonsense about worrying he’d never see him again. merlin exchanges a look with the relieved and amused knights behind him. but merlin is never the one to turn down affection from arthur so he returns the hug and is like “uh arthur?” and he hums against his shoulder. merlin grins “you know she removed the spell, right?”

[harringroveera]

Billy loves to get under Steve’s skin (and in his pants too probably)

(Incorrect Harringrove + Gallavich Quotes)

[stormbros]

I finally got beacon to refresh and rewatching the scene just made me want to applaud Robbie and Liam both. Ignoring the fact we watched Liam potentially set up the conversation earlier with Caleb, and watching Robbie continually try to initiate the scene (big group, it happens), just....the bittersweet conclusion to everything we've seen:

Dorian doesn't know what it is and maybe it's a phase but maybe it isn't and it's so strong so why not take the chance? And Orym knows what it is clearly and that is why he ignores it but upon accepting Will's words and finding comfort with Dorian he knows "[this is] fine"

Curling up in each other's arms, seeking comfort in one another because tomorrow could be their last day and they may not have a future but they have tomorrow and that's a good place to start

[cherrycoloredfaith]

Kiss Off

Hello everyone! I'm sharing my first fic with you all over here, but chapters 7/10 are already posted on A03! See there for more tags!

rating: Explicit

Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Construction Crew AU - No Upside Down, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers

playlist!

next chapter

Chapter 1: One 'Cause You Left Me

If you would have stopped Steve on the street 6 months ago and told him the only job he could get in Indianapolis was joining a construction crew, he would have laughed in your face and then went home to cry himself to sleep. He didn't think he could land a dream job or anything, but to get no offers from retailers caught him by surprise and, honestly, bruised his ego. That was where his experience was, after all. He applied here on a whim of desperation after seeing the ad in a paper; he never anticipated he’d actually get a call back.

Yet, here he stands at the foot of the stairs leading to a trailer sat on a field of red dirt in the outskirts of the city. He stared at the “Munson Construction, est. 1980” signage on the door, the color bleached from years of direct sunlight. Now, the sun was blazing down in the late morning light. Freshly purchased denim, still starchy as he wipes the sweat from his hands, stiffly hugged his legs, and drops of sweat were already dripping down his back. It's only early June, but Steve can tell it's going to be a hot summer. He’s not certain he'll be able to cope.

The new work boots feel stiff and alien on his feet as he takes his steps up to the door.  Clunk, clunk, they went over the aging wooden stairs. The guy who called him to offer the job gave him a list of items he'd need to buy: jeans, work boots, white t-shirts. The uniform of his unforeseen future. Steve swallowed down his nerves and knocked on the door. 

He heard a faint call answer and turned the knob, peering in as the door swung. Old wood paneling covered the walls and a softening, patchy linoleum tile lay under his boots. His new boss, who he assumed was Wayne, looked up from addressing someone, who he assumed was another employee. 

“Harrington, right?” he said as he stood to greet Steve at the door. Holding his hand out for Steve to shake, he added, “I’m Wayne, we spoke on the phone. This here’s Eddie. Eddie, meet your new addition.”

Steve looked over. Behind a mess of long hair that definitely goes against the rules outlined to him days before, sits a man sprawled in a chair, legs up on the edge of the desk to balance his seat on the hind legs. After a sigh and the slightest shake of his head, the man, Eddie, swung around to shoot Steve a dazzling–clearly forced–smile that caused his stomach to flip. Under different circumstances, Steve would have blushed. The first thing he noticed was that the man was beautiful–and clearly not happy with his presence. Caught off guard, Steve looked to Wayne, trying not to make the wrong move, suddenly sensing the tension in the room, primarily radiating off of Eddie.

Steve cleared his throat. “Hey, it's nice to–”

With a thud, Eddie stood, his chair's legs knocking to the floor. 

"Hello. Stephan, was it? You should run off before it’s too late, Wayne runs this place like a prison. Unpaid labor, grueling hours, no benefits. Don’t even get me started on the whip,” Eddie warned, placing the back of his hand over his forehead as if he was preparing to faint and faking a shudder. Steve just raised his eyebrows.

Wayne shook his head and looked dead Steve in the eyes, “He’s just tryin’ to scare ya. You got nothing to worry about here but him.” Eddie shot Wayne a look that said he should be feared; then, he glanced back at Steve, looking him up and down. Steve felt exposed under his gaze. 

Eddie clapped his hands together, the crack causing Steve to jump. “Would love to stay and chat, but I'm gonna run off now." As his false smile fell, he huffed, pulling out a pack of smokes and skirted around Wayne and Steve in the small trailer to leave without a second glance in his direction. That's when Steve registers his outfit. Leather jacket, dark denim, and a black tee, assorted jewelry. Definitely against the rules. 

"Ah, that went about as well as I thought,” said Wayne. “Excuse him. He's rough around the edges until ya get to know 'm.” He signed and sat behind his desk once again, clearly exasperated. Steve moved into the now available chair. 

Just as he sat down, the trailer door barged open again. It was so loud that as Steve turned around, he suspected this Eddie guy had come back. Instead, in came a much younger girl, probably barely out of middle school, fiery hair tied back as she carried a bunch of rolled papers in her arms. She passed Steve, her green backpack bumping into his shoulder in the tight quarters. Dropping the stack onto the desk, she turned to address Wayne when she finally noticed him. She narrowed her eyes and looked to Wayne for an introduction. 

“Thanks, Max. This is Steve Harrington, he’s joining our team this summer. Steve, this is Max Mayfield. She helps around while she’s out of school.”

Steve shot her a gentle smile, hoping to ease the tension he saw in her eyes. “Cool, uh… nice to meet you.” 

He offered his hand; Max shook it with a surprising force. “Sure.” Despite her confidence, Steve sensed she was wary of his unfamiliar presence. He tried not to feel like he was failing this whole first impressions thing. She turned back to Wayne, “These are the updated plans they gave me. The GC wants you to call him after you look over it all, said the architect’s being a real pain in the ass.” 

Another sigh from Wayne. “Sounds about right.” Steve noticed the slight drawl of his voice, making the i’s sound like ah’s. “Could you ask Eddie to write down what he needs to go over with Steve tomorrow while I show him his way around today?” 

Max nodded and grabbed a nearby legal pad and oddly shaped pencil. She didn’t ask where Eddie was or appear frightened to face the man who had shaken Steve earlier. She exited the trailer, leaving him alone once again with Wayne. He stood up and gestured for Steve to follow out the door. 

Once outside, Wayne felt in the breast pocket of his light plaid shirt for a pack of smokes, lit one and started walking. “We only got a couple work trucks, so some crew got to ride to the jobsites on their own,” he said as he gestured to the pickup trucks parked to the side. Two identical 1980 Ford F250s sat over the red dirt. Beyond, he could see the other employee’s personal cars, his BMW sedan sticking out like a sore thumb amongst an older van and a few other pickups. He silently prayed he would never have to pull up to a construction site in his own car, thinking about the damage that could come to it, let alone the embarrassment of not owning a proper vehicle for this setting.

“I’ve got three crews working for me, but Eddie’s meets here regularly for smaller jobs. I got the others on renovation jobs all over the city. I’m trainin’ him to lead the projects, startin’ small and all,” he explained. 

“Where are the other guys on Eddie’s crew?” asked Steve.

“Gave them the day off today, while we got you adjusted. You’ll meet ‘em tomorrow mornin’ to finish up a project on the East side of town.”

Across the trailer of the main office sat another with matching white metal paneling and a shiny aluminum roof. Wayne walked them towards it. “This is our break area. I think Eds calls it the clubhouse or something or other. It's got our lockers for personal belongings, a kitchen, places to sit. Plus some storage for us. Those drawings rack up after 20 years.”

Wayne laughed; Steve smiled and nodded as if he was in on the joke.

They walked up the steps and entered. The layout looked like it wasn’t meant for work, like it was a home transformed into a shared space. Open lockers sat against the far wall, each with hanging bright yellow light vests and white construction hats, except for one which was red. Dirt had clearly been trailed in on the floors for years, marking paths throughout. One led to the kitchen, a couple fold out tables surrounded by mismatched chairs. Another led to what was clearly a bathroom; Steve wandered over, pleasantly surprised to find it very clean despite the disheveled state of the rest of the house. He registered the shower before turning back to Wayne. 

“It’s there if you need it. No guarantee you’ll stay clean once you step out,” Wayne laughs, looking to the floor, still smoking his cigarette. Steve looked past him at the doorway to what should have clearly been a bedroom. The door was shut. 

“Ed’s office,” he answered the silent question.

“How long has Eddie worked here?” Steve tried not to admit to himself he was curious about him. 

“Ever since he was a teenager. He’s been here about…six years, now, I s’pose. I been looking after him that long at least.” He must have seen the question on Steve’s face. “He’s my nephew.”

Oh. Steve nodded. “What about Max?”

“She joined last summer, she’s my neighbor back at home. Her mom needed some help keeping her out of trouble, and she gets along great with the guys. I keep her from doing any dangerous work, just odd tasks here and there for her. Don’t know how long she’ll let me keep that up though,” he explains.

“She likes it?” He was surprised. 

“Oh yeah, she loves it. You’ll get to know her over the summer.” Wayne turns to Steve, suddenly serious, pointing his cigarette butt at his chest, “You seem like a great fellow, but I don’t know ya that well. No goddamn funny business. We look out for her, one slip up, you’re outta here.”

Steve raised his eyebrows, putting the pieces together. “No- yes- of course, I wouldn’t dream of it. She seems like a great kid.”

Wayne nodded, satisfied with Steve’s response, “Good, good. Let’s go on and get your paperwork sorted out and I’ll tell you about the jobs we got goin’.” 

Steve followed him out of the trailer, taking a deep breath of muggy air once he stepped outside. At least the guy in charge seemed to like him. He would have to try harder the next day to land in Eddie’s good graces if he’s really going to work directly under him. 

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

“Rob, what the fuck am I doing?”

Steve was staring at the wall across from the couch as he sat on it upside down, legs hanging over the back and his head off the seat cushion. The wall was bare except for a single David Bowie poster Robin had found at a thrift store down the street. Their boxes were barely unpacked, despite them having moved in four weeks ago. A few sat scattered around their few pieces of furniture, consisting of a couch, one side table, a rug, and a dining table with a pair of mismatched chairs. Late afternoon light poured in through the tall windows, heating Steve's skin where he sat. 

Steve ran his hands through his hair. The joint he’d smoked out on the fire escape did a good job of easing the tightness in his chest, but didn’t help to quiet his mind. He’d have to ask for something different next time. 

When Robin didn’t answer, he continued, “I have no clue what I’m doing. I don’t know anything about concrete or wood or whatever. I probably barely know how to work a drill. Do you think they’ll make me operate a crane?”

Steve watched as Robin’s legs suddenly came into view; her hands were on her hips, looking down at him disapprovingly. How many people were going to give him that look today?

“What’s up? Why are you moping? I thought your boss liked you!” she said indignantly. 

“Well, one of them did. I think,” he answered. “The crew leader- guy- thingy.. The one who leads the crew I’m on. He didn’t seem like he wanted to meet me, like at all. He walked out after being introduced, I didn’t even have an opportunity to shake his hand.”

“Okay, that is rude,” Robin cocked her head to the side. “What did his boss say?”

“Just that he’s like that sometimes. It's his nephew, so he probably gets special treatment,” said Steve, narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest, pouting. Steve sat upright from his strange position, suddenly needing a snack and a glass of water. 

Before he could get up, she was already on it, filling up a glass from the kitchen sink, and walking over to hand it to him. He drank greedily to ease his cotton mouth as best he could. 

“What was he like?” she asks.

“I don’t know, I hardly saw him, didn’t even speak to him,” he said looking at the ground, avoiding Robin’s eyes. “He didn’t look like you’d expect. And his hair definitely didn’t meet the dress code requirements,” he blurted before he could stop himself, blushing as soon as he brought it up. Robin’s eyes lit up.

“Ohh, his hair… What else did Stevie notice about his scary new boss? Pretty eyes? Good smile? Was he tall?” she teased. 

Steve put the glass on the floor and buried his face in his hands, feeling the heat coming to the surface. He decided to ignore her. “Wayne just said hair must be short or tied back! I even got mine trimmed for meeting him today just in case.”

“Fascinating,” Robin joked.

“But I’m serious, Rob. What am I even doing working this kind of job? Wayne seems nice, but there’s no way I’m going to fit in with these guys. Preppy, polo-wearing Steve Harrington working on a construction crew in the city. They’ll probably all think I’m stuck-up.” 

“Okayy, well, don’t be stuck up, then! I thought you weren’t that guy anymore,” she reminded him. “Steve, come on. They’re going to teach you everything you need to know, right? So, stop stressing.”

“I guess…” Steve gave in. He wouldn’t admit his uneasiness in front of anyone else but her. Steve wanted to appear confident, but he was out of his element. If he even had an element?

He stood and walked over to the small kitchen, deciding on a TV dinner to keep things easy. He placed the frozen tray into the microwave, and as he waited, staring as the tray rotated, he began to wonder to himself. 

Steve felt out of place, uprooted since he left home. He was excited to be here with Robin, to have so many opportunities ahead of him. He could potentially be great at this job, he could meet someone he really likes, he could create a new home. Yet, he found himself missing Hawkins; the trees, long drives in the country, always places to hide. Here, in the city, it felt stuffy. People surrounded him with their constant presence. Upstairs, downstairs, at the park, at the grocery store. He didn’t have anywhere to hide now.  Here, the unfamiliar and unknown was constantly looming, no stability in sight. There was opportunity for success but also for failure. More failures and more people to disappoint, Steve thought.

Beeeeep!

[mrmeepsmadmind]

rewatching this over and over again.. mainly bcs tarn makes soundwave into a manlet but also bcs it's hilarious

[a-lesbianshadowinthenight]

every day i mourn the story of jesslupe we could have gotten. they were setting them up for the most perfect friends to lovers arc, the tension, the subtle flirting, the open affection they have for each other. and you can tell kelly and roberta were on fucking board with it and it's just.... lost in the ether. i'm so miserable

[turtledotjpeg]

@hxhbigbang24 time!!

I drew for this fic which made me SAD and also made my HEART WARM!! I will not say too much to avoid spoiling future chapters, but I illustrated a few moments from this scene near the end of the story that I loved!

[andromeda-nova-writing]

"Are you laughing at me?" "Yeah, I am. What are you going to do about it?" - Wriothesley Request from @isekyaaa

When Clorinde said she knew someone who could teach Y/N the basics of a different hand-to-hand combat style she wasn’t expecting that Wriothesley would be the one to teach her. One would think it would be easy to take the guy seriously but all the stories from Clorinde and that his back was absolutely covered in stickers made it so hard. It would have been easier if she said she would just show up to the fortress for her lesson rather than agreeing with him to take advantage of the nice weather out at the beach. With his coat on, the stickers were at least out of sight.

“You know I never got the reason why you agreed to this.”

“Clorinde didn’t tell you?” He was focused on wrapping his hands.

“Nah. Just said she knew a guy.” Her head tilted to the side. “Is there something I should know? Heard from her that you both like betting. You lost?”

He sighed. “Yeah, but this is better than me winning and my shelves filling up with more law books.”

Y/N laughed. “So you’re the reason I end up swinging by the bookstore to pick up a law book for her every now and then.”

Wriothesley rolled his eyes with a smile. “Seems so. You ready over there.”

“Been. You were the late one.”

“Work’s a bit far from here to be fair.”

“I thought I was gonna have to tell Clorinde you were a no-show. I’d be back on the hunt for an instructor. Probably could find someone better if I spent more time looking.” She teased.

“You’re gonna give me a headache.”

“Don’t tell me I’m too much for you to handle.”

He looked away biting his lip, he pushed his bangs back before letting them fall in front of his face. “Let’s just get this started.”

It didn't take long for Y/N to begin understanding the basics. The only issue was that she kept falling back into the stance of her normal fighting style. It was definitely something she’d have to work on to fix but at the same time being able change styles mid fight could be an advantage. 

After some time of just focusing making sure she was picking things up correctly. It didn’t hurt to test some things out in a small scrimmage. It would just be a few blows back and forth with no real weight behind them. 

Y/N had thrown a punch Wriothesley's way. She focused on pushing him further back towards the water. It was her best bet with that they were in two different weight classes. It wasn’t hard for him to dodge. But in doing so he tripped backwards trying to avoid stepping on a crab and fell into the waves that crashed against the shore.

She couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. Yes, he had been a more than perfect teacher the entire time. But with the knowledge he was helping cause of a lost bet, the stickers that covered his back and that he was soaked beyond belief she let go of everything that kept her from laughing at the man.

He looked up at the woman who was now towering above him as the waves gently splashed at him leaving no part of his clothes dry. “Are you laughing at me?” He wasn’t mad but he for sure knew he had to look a bit stupid.

“Yeah, I am. What are you going to do about it?” She teased. It wasn’t like he could do anything about it.

He sighed. “You’re right nothing I can do. Help a guy up?”

Y/N wiped a tear that formed from her laughter before holding a hand out to him to pull him back up standing. Wriothesley took her hand pulling himself up just slightly before pulling her down into the water with him.

“Ugggh, You asshole!” She laid in the water beside Him.

“It's what you get.” He let go of her hand before splashing her lightly.

“It’s not like I was the one who pushed you in.”

“You were laughing enough where you might as well have.”

She rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe Clorinde set me up to learn from a man who doesn’t know how to even treat a lady.”

“I don’t know if our activities here would even have you being considered lady like.”

“I think it’s very lady like knowing how to defend yourself. After all you never know when a big oaf is going to pull you into the ocean.”

“You say that like you haven’t been having a good time.”

She turned her head away to hide the smile that was creeping onto her face. “Let’s just go dry off already.”

[lulublack90]

Prompt 16 - Hunger

@wolfstarmicrofic June 16, word count 568

Previous part First part

The afternoon was theirs to do with as they wished. It appeared that McGonagall and Sprout hadn’t expected them to get all the seedlings planted as fast as they had. Remus was glad for the break and wanted nothing more than to go collapse on his bed and rest his aching body. He’d pondered over why his body was aching so much, aside from the manual labour. He realised he just wasn’t used to doing anything. His body was weak from years of being bed-bound. Really, his father should have thought of that before dumping him here, but then he would never have met Sirius or the others. 

“So what are we doing this afternoon then? Water fight? Archery? Rock climbing?” James asked as they stood outside the main hall with nothing to do. Remus groaned inwardly, not wanting to do any of those things. 

“Remus and I are going to hang out in the cabin,” Sirius announced. “And you two aren’t invited,” He added, when Peter opened his mouth. 

“Well, that’s hardly fair,” Peter protested. Sirius looked at James, who nodded at him with a smile. He wrapped his arm around Peter’s shoulders. 

“Come on, Pete, lets me, and you go find something fun to do while this boring pair reads or something.” Peter seemed appeased by James’s words and wandered off with him without a second thought for Remus and Sirius. Sirius grabbed Remus by the hand and walked them towards their cabin.

It was cool inside. Remus flopped onto his bed groaning happily. Sirius sauntered towards him and somehow dropped himself onto the bed in the most elegant way Remus had ever seen. 

“Hi,” Sirius whispered. 

“HI,” Remus whispered back. He swallowed as a buzzing spread across his skin at Sirius’s closeness. Sirius reached a hand to Remus’s face and gently cupped it, stroking his thumb over Remus’s cheekbone. Remus leaned his head into the contact and the second his eyelids shut, Sirius captured his lips with his own. Remus’s eyes fluttered open at the sudden affection, but quickly shut them again, sinking into Sirius. 

They hadn’t kissed much since the first time. James and Peter saw to that, but it was definitely getting easier between the pair. Remus felt braver each time they kissed, as did Sirius. 

Sirius’s hand slid beneath his t-shirt and Remus froze. Sirius kept his hand still and peppered kisses across Remus’s lips until he calmed down and returned to what they’d been doing. He stilled again when Sirius’s thumb began rubbing soft circles into his skin. But soon again the panic subsided, and he returned to kissing him. 

They played this game for a while until Remus stopped freezing every time Sirius’s hand moved to a new place, and they could just enjoy the moment. 

They stopped when Remus’s stomach growled with hunger, making Sirius giggle as he poked gently at the sound. 

“Honestly, Remus, can’t you go an hour without eating?” He rolled away from Remus, off the bed and grabbed two lion bars from his bedside table. “Here,” Sirius said as he tossed the snack to Remus. Remus grinned as he bit into the chocolate bar. He realised then that his body felt totally relaxed, and he didn’t ache as much. He watched Sirius pick his lion bar apart with his teeth layer by layer in a truly obscene way and thought this boy must be magic.

Next part

[justsomecouscous]

'in my relationship I only want a guy who's 6ft and has muscles' this 'I want a girl who has a big ass and boobs' that

Nah FUCK that

I want someone to lovingly hold my face in their hands and look adoringly at me then kiss me while the fans scream and cry from happiness after waiting for 5 seasons and the old bitter white men to sit seething in their arm chairs