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allthemusic · 22 days ago

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Week ending: 5th February

Well, my reactions to these two songs are just about diametrically opposite. They're both well-made things, but... well, you'll see.

Problems - The Everly Brothers (peaked at Number 6)

It's certainly a very Everly Brothers song. We've got a vaguely Bo Diddley beat-adjacent guitar riff, some thumpy drumming and some tight harmonies, all accdentuating lyrics that are deliberately teenaged, portraying the sort of real-life situations that teenage listeners would have related to.

Problem is, the teenage angst here just doesn't work for me, and the Everlys come off as particularly whiny and annoying. The whole's song's about how Don (or Phil?) has problems, problems, problems all day long. Which is already quite dramatic, and that's before we get to the line that literally has Phil (or Don?) singing woe is me, I should have stayed in bed. Which, okay, I get it, is a very teenage feeling to have. But it does create a sort of sense of exaggeration, or of almost comedic angstiness, especially when we also get an explanation of our singer's main issues, namely that my baby don't like anything I do / My teacher seems to feel the same way too. Plus, there's a car riding on his grades, which makes it even worse: Can't get the car, my marks ain't been so good. They're all realistic concerns a 1950s teenager might have, but it still feels kind of like a performance of adolescent angst, and as such, it just kind of annoys me.

Still, alone, this wouldn't bug me. No, it's the last verse that does that, as our narrator sings: Problems, problems, problems / They're all on account of my lovin' you like I do / Problems, problems, problems / They won't be solved until I'm sure of you / You can solve my problems with a love that's true. So, let's see. We've blamed all of Phil's (Don's?) problems on his crush - which is not a winning romantic move, and is also kind of inaccurate, if his grades are part of the problem, one has to assume? And then, to compound matters, Don (Phil?) is going for this weird, pressurising move where he seems to be trying to guilt his crush into solving all his problems. Gross, and unlikely to succeed. You will not win your crush over by being performatively pathetic, dude. Not gonna happen!

Anyway, musically I also find the song kind of repetitive. And it's so Everlys. Everlys by numbers. Not a fan.

Smoke Gets In Your Eyes - The Platters (1)

What a contrast between the Everlys high school whine-fest and this track! We've gone from a track bemoaning all of Phil's (or Don's?) relatively trivial problems, to a much more mature track that's all about getting hurt, and the philosophical outlook you need to move past it.

It starts slow and syrupy, with these rather old-school violins setting us up for what will develop into a slow, lush sort of track, pushed along by this steady brushed drum beat, never really hurrying, with a vocalist who by turns soars into the stratosphere and then hangs back, but doesn't hesitate to really wail on the ohhhh interjections. And periodically, these really pretty orchestral bits, like the harp that crops up periodically.

What really makes the song is the lyrics, though, and the story they tell, rather poetically. Our singer was in love, and told everyone about it, when they asked: I of course replied, "Something inside cannot be denied". The people talking to him scoff at this, reminding him that all who love are blind, and that when your heart's on fire / You must realize / Smoke gets in your eyes. It's a metaphor apparently based on a Russian proverb, and it captures this idea that love can make you almost delusional, or at least hide certain truths from you. And our singer replies by laughing them off. So far so good.

But then things take a twist as we learn that today, my love has flown away. And suddenly the scenario flips round, as laughing friends deride / Tears I cannot hide. Our singer responds to this completely unwarranted mockery with a restraint I wouldn't have shown, smiling and flipping their advice round, singing about how when a lovely flame dies / Smoke gets in your eyes. The metaphor's become one less about how smoke blinds you, and more about smoke making you cry. And yet there's the subtlety of it still being a "lovely" flame - our narrator is hurting now, but appreciates the relationship for what it was, accepting the tears of a break-up as an inevitable sign that what he had was good. There's a sort of philosophical acceptance to it all. Things haven't gone well, romantically, but the singer, faced with this, simply accepts that it's over, and despite his friends being seemingly the literal worst, he manages to accept it graciously and rather stoically. Take note, Everlys!

Musically, there's a real musical theatre vibe to this one, though the Platters have done it up with some rather doo-wop backing vocals at points. It's the vaguely classical-sounding melodrama of it, the big soaring ballad lines, the occasional change of key, the dramatic changes in the backing instrumentation as the mood of the whole thing turns on a dime. And so I was hardly shocked to learn that the tune was originally composed way back in 1927 for the musical Show Boat, but was only given lyrics in 1933 as part of a completely different musical called Roberta, which sounds much dafter than this song would suggest, all about a football player who travels to Paris as part of a dance band, gets stranded without money and ends up working for his aunt in a dress shop, where he falls in love with a shop assistant, and also gets involved with a Russian princess? Like I said, daft.

Still, quality will out, and as such, the song became a bit of a 1930s standard, and seems to have been covered by just about everybody, including a saxophonist called Zoot Sims, who I'm only mentioning because of his excellent name. Other notables who covered this one include Tommy Dorsey, Benny Goodman, Glenn Miller, Nat King Cole, Harry Belafonte, Jo Stafford, Eartha Kitt, Dinah Washington - and the list goes on!

No competition this week. I generally see the appeal of teenaged songs for teenagers, but I'm just not in the mood for it, today. Call it a demographic issue, but I'm much more inclined towards the Platters twisty metaphors and soulful balladeering, at least for today.

Favourite song of the bunch: Smoke Gets in Your Eyes

#uk charts #1958 #the everly brothers #the platters

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tickle-bugs · 2 years ago

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I’m So Down

Summary: Steve picks up Robin’s doodling habit and shares it with Eddie. Pretty soon, they become each other’s favorite canvases. Loose sequel to Summer Lovin’ but set a while after. (Once again reminding everyone that I have seen ZERO episodes of stranger things and am therefore not liable for ooc content thank u enjoy)

Word count: 4.4k + author’s note at the end!

“You’re staring, Harrington.” Eddie grins. “A picture will last you longer.”

“Maybe I just like staring at you,” Steve fires back, a dorky smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

“I bet you say that to all the girls.” Eddie presses a dramatic hand to his heart and flutters his lashes.

“Nah. Just the pretty ones.” Steve kisses the corner of his mouth. Eddie’s quietly stunned for a moment, and it’s always a win to see him even a little flustered.

“Be still, my beating heart.” Eddie shifts his arm off the back of the couch and drops it properly across Steve’s shoulders. He plays with the ends of Steve’s hair and finally pulls his eyes back to the TV. Steve indulges himself in more staring.

Eddie’s…nice. That’s an oversimplification—he’s nice to look at, to be around, to feel and enjoy. If the relief of a cool breeze, the fizz of fresh pop, and the glittering joy of sparklers could be bottled into a person, Eddie’s it. But, like, if the bottle were spiky and leather and metal as hell. Steve’s still learning about what does or doesn’t define something as metal, but he feels pretty good about this one.

Of course Eddie’s metal. Of course he is. It’s not a question. Everything that they’ve been through both together and apart is all the evidence necessary. But in these moments where he isn’t, where Steve’s curled into his side and they’re sharing a blanket that’s fraying with love at the edges, Eddie’s gentle and tender and humming under his breath. His black-polished fingers pluck at Steve’s bicep like the fretboard of his guitar. An ostensibly metal package for beautiful contents. Pretty.

“Now you’re ogling.” Eddie rolls his head to the side and raises his eyebrows suggestively. He runs his tongue along his canines idly. It shouldn’t be as distracting as it is.

“Your tattoos.” Steve dips his head in acknowledgment.

“What about ‘em?” Eddie shifts to better face him.

“They’re nice. They suit you.” Steve brushes his fingers over the bats on Eddie’s forearm. Eddie rolls over onto his stomach and props his chin in his hands, kicking his legs like a girl at a sleepover, and Steve can’t help but smile.

“Well, don’t stop there. Flattery is smiled upon.” Eddie army-crawls across the couch until he can lean up into Steve’s personal space. His nose crinkles around his teasing grin.

“Stop,” Steve laughs, clasping a hand around Eddie’s face like a catcher’s glove and pushing him back. Eddie, of course, responds with dignity and grace—he licks Steve’s hand.

“Dude, ew!” Steve wipes his palm on his jeans. Eddie makes his little devil face and hisses, but the sound falls apart into a sparkling laugh before he can finish. He rolls over and deposits his head into Steve’s lap, folding his arms behind his head.

The ambient crackle of the TV filters back in, busted speakers relaying maybe 70% of The Goonies as it plays. It’s better than nothing, though—Eddie loves this movie. He shakes both their bodies with his laughter, as if everything is bright and novel.

“What did it feel like to get these?” Steve’s fingers wander Eddie’s arms, poking at the tattoos he can reach. Robin’s been bugging Steve about inking him ever since she figured out how to stick and poke. She draws on him a lot while they talk sometimes, like a fidget or a stim, and the urge must have surpassed temporary art. Eddie’s got a couple of these too—they’re thinner and a little shakier than his professional ones. The small triangle inked between Eddie’s fingers pulls tight on his heartstrings. He’d never noticed it.

“Like needles in my skin. What’s gotten into you, Harrington?” Eddie pushes himself up on his elbows. His hair falls away from his shoulders, revealing the gentle curve of his neck to the light.

“Can I give you one?” Steve gets it now. The doodling thing. He’s never been much of an artist but there’s a perfect spot on Eddie’s neck that he fixates on. He’s honestly surprised doesn’t have ink there already.

“Elaborate.” Eddie squishes Steve’s face and pulls it down towards him. Steve smacks his hands away but doesn’t retreat.

“You never drew fake tattoos on people growing up?” Steve immediately rethinks the question when Eddie makes a face. “Robin and I do it sometimes. It’s fun.”

“I think I’m already pretty equipped in the tattoo department.” Eddie pulls at the collar of his shirt for emphasis. His black widow tattoo catches a glimpse of the outside world.

“Okay, but do you have one of my tattoos?” Steve’s really overselling his abilities here, but there’s no use turning back. Eddie stares at him for a while, just blinking, and then he chuckles.

“Fine.” He slaps his legs and heaves a labored sigh. “Where do you want me?”

….

Eddie shivers pretty frequently while he draws, but Steve doesn’t think much of it—some part of Eddie’s always in motion. His legs and fingers shake and tap at all times, even with his head pillowed on Steve’s lap. The Goonies has long since been swapped for The Evil Dead and it’s thus far distracted Eddie wonderfully. Steve’s not a horror guy by any stretch, but the movie has a lot of charm. He digs it.

He starts coloring in what he’s working on as Ash and Cheryl duke it out. Eddie gasps, and not at the movie.

“Steve,” Eddie mumbles, scrunching a little. Steve immediately retracts his hand.

“You okay?” Steve grips his shoulder. Eddie peeks up at him, something unreadable in his big eyes.

“I…yeah, nevermind.“ He’s suddenly very red. And weirdly quiet.

“Are you sure?” Steve cards his hands through Eddie’s hair as best as he can. He shivers and hums into the touch.

“Yes, Your Highness.” Eddie flourishes into a dramatic bow. Steve rolls his eyes and goes back to doodling. Eddie continues to twitch. Every time Steve checks on him, he gets the finger in return. There’s a cagey quality to it, like he’s equally embarrassed and bursting-at-the-seams about something, and for the love of Christ can’t he just spit it out?

“Munson, I can hear your brain sizzling. What is it?” Steve tugs on Eddie’s earlobe. Eddie bites at his fingers.

“Don’t worry your pretty head about it. Keep going.” He settles back down, eyes stubbornly forward. When Steve doesn’t immediately continue, he gets an exaggerated wave of the hand that gets more and more aggressive until the marker touches back down. Eddie keeps shivering, keeps murmuring, but remains still.

It isn’t until Steve leans down to Eddie’s neck and blows to dry the ink that he understands.

Eddie squeaks. That’s absolutely the noise, like stepping on an old dog toy that’s seen a few storms. He turns towards Steve with comically large eyes.

“Oh.” Steve blinks, then smirks. “Ohhh. Forgot you were ticklish. Sorry.”

“You done?” Eddie’s scowling with no real heat, still red. Adorable. The twitching and deflection suddenly make so much more sense, all of it stupidly endearing. Flustered is a good color on him.

“Not yet. Finishing touches.” Steve kinda means it. He’s proud of his drawing, actually—he’s got a pretty damn good copy of Eddie’s guitar printed on his neck. It could be done. But then he’d be done. And that’s unconscionable.

Steve brings the marker back down with fast, feather-light strokes and Eddie dissolves.

He clenches his fists and waves them around like a kid having a tantrum at Scoops. He’s a firework of frenetic laughter, exploding in an instant and sparkling afterwards with waves of building giggles. It’s like his body had been waiting for this moment to release all the laughter he’d been holding back, and it washes him away.

“Stop squirming!” Steve’s more amused than anything. For all his flailing, Eddie’s mostly stationary.

“It tihihickles!” Eddie gigglesnorts and buries his face in his hands. Five feet ten inches of allegedly-intimidating metalhead and he’s a frizzy pile in Steve’s lap. Steve’s never gonna forget that Eddie snorts for as long as he lives. He’s prepared to chase that sound for the rest of his life.

“Well, stop squirming and it won’t tickle!” Steve mockingly gasps, as if this is an epiphany they should be sharing together.

“Oh, I’m so gonna kihihill you!” Eddie’s nose and eyes scrunch as his dazzling smile takes the forefront. He points a threatening finger at Steve, dimple on proud display.

“Almost done,” Steve hums, drawing lightning bolts crashing behind the guitar. Eddie wails like a broken siren and Steve cracks into snickers at the sound.

“You are cruel,” Eddie whines, laughter still bubbling out.

“The cruelest. Tap out if you need to. I’m finishing this sucker.” Steve rests Eddie’s hand on his thigh, threads his fingers into his hair, and pushes his head back down. It looks a little silly, like he’s forcing him to take a nap, but getting Eddie to stay still in any capacity is always an ordeal.

With Eddie’s beautiful laugh filling the room, it doesn’t take long before Steve’s abandoning his task, tickling up and under his shirt until they’re both flying off the couch into a proper scuffle, then into something much more fun.

...........................

“This is sick.” Eddie turns in the mirror and grins. The fretboard of the guitar ends in wicked points just behind his ear. It rests eternally within an open coffin, surrounded by thorny roses that are starting to look more like cinnamon buns the longer they’re in the light. A swarm of bats reigns over the whole affair, hanging out in the sky with the best lightning bolt Steve’s ever drawn. There’s a newly-blooming hickey right below it, but neither of them acknowledge it.

“Yeah?” Steve leans his hip against the wall and crosses his arms.

“Yeah. Definitely the first time a tattoo almost cost me my life, but it’s worth it.” Eddie pulls his hair away from his neck to get a better look. He’s still flushed a pretty pink and smiles come to him easily. Just like Eddie to be so full of color and life with such a dark wardrobe.

“Want me to help you get it off?” Steve pats his pockets and finds a crumpled tissue. It’s unused, but the state of it makes him subconsciously start building a case for where it’s been.

“So forward, Stevie. I thought you were a gentleman.” Eddie makes eye contact in the mirror, then looks over his shoulder to make it in three-dimensions, leaning back until his gaze peeks through his lashes.

“If you keep this up, I won’t be,” Steve mutters, pulling Eddie closer by the belt loops. He wraps his arms around his waist from behind and Eddie squeezes his hand. Something giddy flutters within Steve.

“Promise?” Eddie grabs his chin and tilts it toward him. His thumb brushes over Steve’s bottom lip.

The kiss that Steve answers with has everything but decorum.

Naturally, Steve doesn’t know how to behave when Eddie gets his stupid little drawing permanently tattooed. The artist added some fun detailing to the piece that makes Steve almost incapable of believing it was ever his drawing at all—the coffin has a velvet lining now and the guitar has some gorgeous shading, but it’s still unmistakably Steve’s. Now Eddie’s. Permanently.

“Are you sure?” Steve haunts the door to the trailer in case he needs to flee. The other shoe should be dropping any second now, but all he’s getting from Eddie is an amused stare.

“Oh, my bad. Let me go get this un-tattooed.” Eddie rolls his eyes and sheds his jacket. Steve worries at his bottom lip and stares at the tattoo. He does see something he doesn’t like. Above the art, Eddie’s added a banner that says ‘The Banished’. Steve scowls.

“If I didn’t like it, I wouldn’t have it. Quit worrying, you’ll wrinkle.” Eddie pokes Steve’s nose and pops his bubble of disapproval. Steve smacks his hand away, but not without a smile.

“It looks really good on you.” Steve traces Eddie’s jaw with his fingers, tilting it to get a better look.

“Yeah?” Eddie pauses, his voice wavering with something fragile and genuine. “…I was worried you’d think it’s weird. I know I didn’t tell you.”

Steve leans in and kisses him sweetly. The way Eddie melts into him will never get old.

“I love it...but it’s missing something.” Steve snags the marker off the coffee table. Eddie immediately holds his hands out with a goofy smile, excuses spilling from his lips, but Steve slides into his space unchallenged.

Fending off ring-clad hands from covering this apparently very ticklish spot, which he notes, Steve draws in another banner below the coffin that reads ‘The Brave’. Eddie gets it added as soon as the tattoo heals.

It becomes their ritual. Steve goes to work and stashes a movie or two under the counter, Eddie comes in and rents them, and they spend their nights in the trailer with good films and good company. Using each other as canvases isn’t always on the agenda, but when it is, it’s an event.

Steve becomes the proud artist of Eddie’s new Lord of the Rings forearm tattoo, though he gets assigned the entire series as required reading before Eddie agrees to get it inked. Eddie’s love for the books is a blessing, however, because he’s more than keen to read the grand passages aloud at literally any moment. The Tree of Gondor is his reward, and Eddie’s tattoo guy turning it into the pommel of an amazing rendition of Narsil, the blade realistically sharp, is a bonus.

Post-Narsil, Eddie suggests they take turns. He’s apparently caught the doodle bug and Robin has to have something to do with it—she’s been bugging Steve less and less about being her practice dummy. She actually joins them once or twice. But mostly it’s Steve and Eddie watching half a movie, then losing the other half under murmured conversations and drawing on one another.

Tonight, though, Rocky Horror is watching them.

“Harrington, sweetheart, if you keep scrunching, I’m going to draw dicks on your face.” Eddie doesn’t look up from where he’s perched over Steve like a goblin. His legs hang off the couch in a way that can’t be comfortable and his face is pinched in concentration mere inches from Steve’s stomach. Steve’s shirt has long since been abandoned.

He doesn’t dignify Eddie with an answer and tries to focus on Tim Curry’s crooning. Eddie’s singing along under his breath, occasionally breaking into louder sustained notes. He squeezes Steve’s thigh when he does this and Steve jumps every time.

Eddie slides to the floor between Steve’s legs and his brain goes places that he isn’t prepared for. Eddie must see something in Steve’s eyes because he leans forward, hands roaming up as he does. Steve’s already there to meet him. Eddie tugs on his bottom lip with his teeth and lets go, leaving their lips to brush, the fuckin’ tease. Eddie’s hands wander back down while he hovers just out of reach. Steve keens closer—

Eddie yanks him forward by the ankle. Steve’s head pomfs into the back of the couch and he groans. Eddie outright cackles.

“Why?” Steve doesn’t whine, he doesn’t.

“You should’ve seen your face, holy shit,” Eddie wheezes, melting into Steve’s lap as his shoulders shake. Steve rolls his eyes and moves to stand.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Eddie splays his fingertips across Steve’s stomach and wiggles them ever so slightly.

Steve releases a strangled laugh, jerking his knees just shy of Eddie’s chin. He manages to get a half-baked apology past the barricade of giggles building in his lungs.

“Last warning. Stop moving.” Eddie raises his eyebrow in a silent challenge. He pins him back with a strong hand to the chest, bars his other forearm across Steve’s thighs, and gets back to drawing.

To his credit, Steve lasts a full ten seconds before he starts twitching again, biting the inside of his cheek to quell the laughter bubbling in his chest. The feeling of the marker on his skin is starting to drive him insane.

“Seriously?” Eddie’s exasperation being as funny as it is doesn’t help anything.

“Pick somewhere else?” He wishes he at least sounded like he means it.

“Oh no, nonono, it’s my turn. The dice chose our fate, we cannot abandon it now.” Eddie gestures to his jet black d20 on the table, still sitting pretty on a big 17. 17: pantline/hips.

Rolling for tattoo spots was a new invention, but it certainly became law a little quick for Steve’s taste. Though, that’s what he gets for dating a guy who threatens his dice and their families before he rolls them.

“I’ll pick a different spot.” Eddie starts to get up, a poorly-concealed note of disappointment in his voice. Steve makes a vague noise of protest. When Eddie ignores him, he pulls him back by the wrist.

“I’ll be fine.” Steve frowns. It takes some bickering before Eddie sits back down again, but with a quick kiss and some well-timed flattery, they’re back in business.

He does last longer this time. He muffles the snickers that do sneak up on him into his fist. He’s doing alright, watching the movie over Eddie’s mop of curls, but then Eddie’s licking his finger and swiping at the art, trying to clean up a line, and a laugh bursts out before he can catch it. Eddie looks up at him with an irritated twitch of his lip.

“I’m sorry, it—“

“Tickles?” Eddie’s annoyance evaporates, all an act, and gets replaced by a wild grin. Steve realizes what he’s doing, the fucking longest con of all time—

“Don’t—“

“Well, then—“ Eddie cackles in triumph.

“Don’t you dare—“ Steve hits him with a pillow.

“—Stop squirming and it won’t tickle,” Eddie finishes, doing a terrible, nasally mockery of Steve’s voice. He laughs and dodges Steve’s next pillow swing, squeezing at his waistline until he drops his weapon and wheezes a surrender.

“You suck.” Steve curls, his skin buzzing under Eddie’s still fingers.

“You love it.” Eddie pokes again for good measure. “Now are we doing this the easy way, or the hard way?” He pulls the cap off the marker with his teeth, twirling it like a drumstick. Steve sticks his tongue out.

“Fun way it is.” Eddie’s grin is just a little feral. Steve swallows nervously.

Steve has fought all manner of monsters. He’s watched a child explode things with her mind. He’s been through hell and back more than once. All his battle-hardened bravery flies out the window when Eddie goes back in to draw. Not because he’s doodling on Steve’s skin, nono, because when his other hand isn’t occupied with holding his canvas still, it’s actively tickling him.

“Asshole!” Steve shrieks, burying his face in his hands. He fights the urge to tangle his fingers in his hair.

“Not sure what you mean, Stevie,” Eddie singsongs, pinching at the underside of his knee, the perfect picture of innocence. He’s a fucking menace is what he is, and Steve’s gonna absolutely ruin him once they’re done.

Steve’s pretty sure his life flashes before his eyes at one point and Eddie must see it, because he murmurs an amused “hang in there, cupcake” and lays off his bullying. But he’s still doodling, and Steve’s far past any measure of pretending he’s composed.

“Et voilá! Another masterpiece complete.” Eddie pops up nearly 30 breathless minutes later with a victorious flourish. Steve’s chest has a faint, dull ache and his cheeks hurt from smiling, but he does it anyway when he catches sight of Eddie’s gleaming eyes.

Eddie’s drawn a spiked bat on his hipbone—Ah, that explains the maddening bunch of circles that he drew at the last minute there. An impressive crown rests at an angle on the bat. On the other hip, Eddie’s loopy, geometric autograph curves along his waistband, a little bat dotting the ‘i’.

“Where are the makeup wipes?” Eddie scrounges through Mt. Stuff on the coffee table, to no avail. He starts to scurry off to his bedroom but Steve grabs his wrist.

“Don’t bother. I wanna keep ‘em.” Steve traces over Eddie’s signature with his finger. Following the loops is oddly satisfying.

“Okay. Just don’t do anything stupid.” Eddie sticks his hands in his pockets.

“Like what?”

“Like get that shit tattooed. Those things are permanent, y'know. Don’t let the troubled youths lead you astray.” Eddie shrugs back on his melodrama like an old, familiar coat.

“Or what? You’ll ground me?” Steve crosses his arms.

“It’s not a good idea,” Eddie scoffs, flopping back onto the couch. Something cold and distant settles over his demeanor as he fiddles with his rings.

“Elaborate.” Steve pats Eddie’s cheek until he graces him with eye contact.

“Ah, he’s learned new words. Henderson teach you that one?” Eddie’s eyelids lower as he snarks, lashing out at nothing at all. He gets like this sometimes, like a storm that’s all thunder and no rain. He’s always on the defensive.

“You did, actually. What’s got your boxers in a twist?” Steve knocks their legs together. Eddie turns to face him. Steve catches the precise moment that he bites back an innuendo.

“Tattoos are permanent.” Eddie speaks slowly, as if explaining this to a child. Steve scowls.

“Yes, we covered this. Quit being a smartass.” Steve pinches his arm hard. Eddie hisses out an apology and backtracks.

“Rule number one is to never get a tattoo you’ll regret. You’re playing with fire here.” Eddie scribbles at the doodles he’s made and Steve flinches with a huff.

“I don’t regret them.”

“Yeah, now you don’t. It’s later that I’m worried about. Like when I finally do something to scare you away, but then you still have to look at my name on your skin.“ Eddie hitches his knee up and sinks deeper into the couch.

“You won’t scare me away, man. I’d literally never get tired of you.“ Steve furrows his brow. How is this even a hypothetical? He loves spending time with Eddie. He loves Eddie.

Woah, new development. But a good one.

“Okay, well, in a few years those words are gonna bite you in the ass and you’ll have to get a very creative cover up.” Eddie’s eyebrows lift as he scoffs, picking at the denim on his knee. Steve briefly wonders what or who might be hiding under his tattoos.

“Alright, this doesn’t seem to be piercing your thick skull.” Steve cradles Eddie’s face in his hands. “I will never get tired of you. Not now, not in a year, not in a hundred.”

“Not even in death?” Eddie’s being dramatic now, taking the low-hanging petulant fruit, and Steve indulges him.

“I’d be honored if you haunted me.” Steve kisses his forehead as tender as he can manage, lingering there until he can feel it sink through to Eddie’s brain.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a romantic, Harrington?” Eddie gazes at him, content to be held.

“Once or twice.” Steve shrugs. Eddie pulls him forward by the front of his shirt for a kiss, and Steve’s arms wrap around his shoulders where they’re meant to be.

...............................................

“You’re staring, Munson.” Steve grins when Eddie freezes in his peripheral. He’s not exactly innocent here, he is wearing Eddie’s vest and only his vest, but it’s hot out and that seems like enough justification. Not like Eddie’s helping—his hair’s pulled back, bangs hanging in his eyes, and the ponytail is unfairly mesmerizing.

“You’re distracting, sue me.” Eddie pulls Steve closer a little roughly, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“I can’t believe you did this.” Eddie wriggles a nail over his autograph, now permanently etched on Steve’s skin. He immediately squirms away with a huff.

Robin finally got her wish. It was an ordeal that took all fucking day, but letting her give him a stick and poke meant snacks, good company, and free ink. The only tax he had to pay was listening to Robin gag the entire time over Steve wanting Eddie’s name on his skin. As if it wasn’t a relatively small tattoo.

“Yeah, well, I thought it’d be nice to have something in common besides this.” He gestures to the rough plane of his demobat scars. “Plus, maybe I’ll finally be promoted to Corroded Coffin’s number one groupie.”

“Throw your bra on stage, then we’ll talk,” Eddie laughs, jostling their shoulders together.

“So you’re saying there’s a chance.” Steve leans in close, grinning, and Eddie shoves him away.

“You’re fuckin’ ridiculous.” Eddie bites his lip on a silly smile.

“You’re just scared you’d see me shirtless and I’d be irresistible.” Steve folds his arms behind his head and kicks his feet onto the coffee table.

“I’ve already seen you shirtless, so check that off the list,” Eddie hums, leaning his head on Steve’s shoulder.

“Then my work here is done.” Steve brushes his hands together and stands. Eddie grabs him by the waist and pulls him back down into a giggling heap. They roll around a little, Eddie managing to get Steve in a headlock and Steve managing to ruthlessly tickle until Eddie releases him. They land in a heap, legs entangled, and Eddie just gazes at him.

“I’m glad I got stuck on you, Stevie,” Eddie whispers, brushing his thumb over Steve’s cheek. The way Eddie looks at him is sometimes terrifying, the consumption of it all. As if Steve hung the moon and stars. And he would in a heartbeat if Eddie asked. But he hasn’t, and he’ll never ask, and it’s dizzying to be cared for so unconditionally by someone who deserves it all.

“Me too.” Steve shimmies underneath Eddie a bit. “I love you.”

Eddie beams like the sun, warm and beautiful and unmoving. He brings his hand to his mouth, thumb fiddling with his teeth as he lights the room with that smile.

“I love you too.” His voice cracks with emotion around the edges. His eyes glitter like river stones with unshed tears. Steve holds him steady, holds him close, and resolves to never let go. Even when Eddie gets snot on Steve’s shoulder.

When Eddie shows up a few weeks later with ‘Steve’ tattooed on his chest across a heart pierced by an arrow, Steve chases him around the trailer with a pillow until Eddie’s cackling through an apology. It’s the sweetest, craziest thing anyone’s ever done for him and he doesn’t care if it makes him a hypocrite, tattoos are permanent and Eddie’s an idiot.

But, just like Steve, Eddie doesn’t regret a thing.

....

A/N: Normally I don’t do these but I had some little things I wanted to geek out over:

- this was originally a 10k-ish fic that i squeezed down like an orange so apologies if anything felt weird or squished! Realized I do NOT know how to write Robin, Dustin, or Nancy lol.

- I imagine that Eddie is wearing Steve’s yellow sweater in this. It makes me happy.

- Get tattoos of anything you want, I’m not the tattoo police, but Eddie has a point: generally not a good idea to get tattoos of anything you might regret down the line. Shit can get expensive. I know so many people who got Game of Thrones and Harry Potter coverups, also people who got tattoos for people who are now not their friends/their exes. Be smart and take care of your tattoos! <3

- Eddie’s signature looks a lot like Ozzy Ozbourne’s! He’s practiced it for years and loves getting to sign stuff at Corroded Coffin concerts (though it’s usually just Steve, Dustin, and Robin heckling him while Will and Mike ask genuinely)

- You will pry Eddie giving Steve pet names, not limited to be including Stevie, sweetheart, babe, princess, pretty boy, etc from my cold, dead hands.

- Eddie gives me the vibe of someone who’d want a tattoo sleeve or even two, and I like to think the Narsil tattoo starts a Lord of the Rings one for him :)

- this concept is based on something I used to do with friends IRL in high school! We usually only did like hands/arms/ankles and I was voted out as a canvas bc I was too squirmy :/

#my fics #bug’s greatest hits #stranger things #steddie #steveddie #ticklish!eddie munson #ticklish!steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #i think i got maybe a 10% better read on their characters between this time and last time!!#this is all over the place and mostly self indulgent but I do really enjoy writing them. they're fun.#anywho i hope y'all enjoy!!#they kiss So Much in this but you can't tell me they're not like that

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mystic-monkie-business · 2 years ago

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ma'am,,, would you spare a man some Sha Dali romantic hcs,,,, buddy deserves some lovin

A/N: You BET I can my dude

Character: Sha Dali

Relationship: Romantic

Okay, first and foremost...Sha Dali is an absolute catch. Like I’m talking the ideal man. He’s so caring and attentive and yet no one ever really seems to think too much about him in a romantic light so honestly? Kudos to anyone out there who does because you better believe he’s gonna treat you right

He actually has a very good memory, so I feel like even before you guys got together he was always remembering things about you. Little anniversaries of stuff that was important to you, things you like, your birthday, etc. (he has all his friends’ birthdays written on his own little cat calendar. Change my mind)

As said before, he’s very attentive, and he’s always in-tune with how you’re feeling. He can read people’s emotions very well, so most of the time you don’t even need to tell him how you’re feeling, though he always appreciates it when you do! He’s more than happy to listen to you talk about your day, or whatever thoughts you have going on in your head (he loves it actually. He loves hearing you talk, and he’s always willing to help you by bouncing thoughts and ideas back and forth, or just staying quiet and letting you rant. Whatever you prefer!)

Even though he has a tendency to put the needs of his friends before his own, he knows his limits and boundaries very well, so he usually doesn’t have a problem with knowing when he needs to step back and take care of himself. That being said, he does get a bit wrapped up in whatever struggles his friends happen to be going through (especially if they’re related to Qi Xiaotian’s whole Monkey Business Situation), so he could do well with someone being there to help him remember when to take some time for himself amongst all the chaos. If you’re that person, he’s eternally grateful. He isn’t used to relying on his friends as much as they rely on him, so it feels a bit strange to have someone he can truly open up to (other than his therapist), but he isn’t against it at all. He really appreciates having you there to listen to him

You know how protective this guy is with his friends? That 100% extends to you. He respects you a lot if you happen to be more headstrong and independent, and you don’t need to tell him not to baby you, but if the two of you get into a particularly dangerous situation -probably relating to Xiaotian’s monkey business- his first instinct is to put himself in front of you and keep you safe. He’s not even self sacrificing- he’s just that strong, and he wants to use that strength to keep you safe

Honestly though? If you try to protect him, even if it’s from something really small and non-threatening (like a spider, bug, snake, etc.), he’ll be really touched. Even if he isn’t scared of what you’re trying to protect him from, he still finds it really sweet that you’re doing it. He’ll just let you take care of whatever it is, and possibly play up his fear even if you can see right through it

Sha Dali is a really balanced guy, so no matter what your personality is like, he can flow with it and balance you out. Outgoing? He’ll revert to being introverted. Shy? He’ll do all the talking for you. Fiery and passionate? He’s calm and chill. You’re more laid back? He’s energetic and wants to do a million things in one afternoon. He’s got it all, baby

Speaking of activities, he has a passion for calm, low-key dates. He likes going to cafés and book stores with you, or even just walking around the city going window shopping after getting some drinks together. And, of course, he loves inviting you back to his boat so you two can hang out (with his millions of cats) and drink some tea, or whatever other beverage you prefer (with his millions of cats)

He’s a hopeless romantic at heart though! He’s always dreamed of going on a big fancy date at least once and treating his partner like the royalty they are, but he’ll be equally as satisfied if you decide to treat him to that. He always gets surprisingly flustered when you treat him nicely. It’s really, really sweet

He blushes whenever you compliment him. He’s just not used to it! Especially if it’s about something other people don’t usually notice, like his attention to detail, or how pretty his eyes look in the sunlight

I have to say it because I know you’re thinking about it: yes his cats love you. They’ve gotten used to you and the way you smell and your constant presence in their home at this point, so they like to curl up around you whenever you sit down. If you’re not into that, you can just gently shoo them away and they’ll be fine. But that probably won’t stop them from rubbing up against your legs or meowing at you for treats. You can give them some if you want, but they’ll start flocking around you like seagulls if you do. Tread carefully

All in all, Sha Dali is literally the most supportive and understanding partner ever. He loves and trusts you whole-heartedly, and he obviously has his ups and downs (as does everyone), but you sticking with him through all that just makes you even more special in his eyes. He loves you a lot. And he will take a million embarrassing pictures of you if you happen to fall asleep on the couch with all his cats <3

#monkie kid x reader #lmk x reader #sha dali x reader #seriously though where are all the sha dali lovers at #he deserves to have the biggest fanbase in the world #also hey first writing post! hope you guys enjoy

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tedesquire · 4 years ago

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Hi! Could I please add another request to my list? :D it's based off a Hey Arnold episode in which Bill and the reader are on a week long school vacation and they run into each other at the beach and Bill develops a crush on a pretty girl who befriends him but the reader finds out the girl's only using Bill to win a sandcastle contest in order to be on the show Baywatch. The reader tries to tell Bill but he won't listen and he eventually overhears the girl talking with her boyfriend and tells her off only to win the contest with the reader and they confess their feelings? 💕💕

Summer Lovin’

Words: 2554

Warnings: cursing, female pronouns (but no genitalia mentioned and no skin color specified) a bit of angst (fluffy ending though)

Author’s Note: first of all, I fucking love Hey, Arnold! and definitely love Helga G. Pataki with all my heart. She’s a weirdo and I love it. I knew exactly what episode you were talking about. I can't believe you got me to write 13 pages of fanfic for such a specific and niche fandom, but hey, I don’t do this for the fame. I do this for the little bit of serotonin my brain gets when I imagine myself in scenarios with fictional characters because real men are disappointing. (Mod Olivia)

You hated Bill. You hated the stupid way his stupid blonde ringlets caught the California sun, the stupid vacant look in his stupid sapphire eyes at almost all times, the stupid fucking sliver of tan skin he exposed with his crop tops that he somehow got away with at school. Not to mention you loathed the stupid fucking grin that he gave to his best friend Ted, the one that proceeded the ridiculous laugh the stupid boy had.

All these things you despised, detested, and loathed with every fiber of your being. Simple annoyances beginning since kindergarten snowballed into a big, white burning ball of hatred for the boy. Hatred that made your cheeks heat up and stomach churn, just as it was doing now.

You had been so excited for Spring Break, your family deciding to travel 5 and a half hours to a beach house in Half Moon Bay. A week of the sun, sea, shopping, seashells, boardwalks, and salt-water taffy, with no Bill to bother you.

So, naturally, when you had reached the beach after a long day of travel, the sight of Bill sitting on the sand in nothing but a swimsuit, skin glowing with tanning oil, made your heart stutter. Okay, perhaps you didn’t hate him… despise him, detest him, or loathe him entirely. From an outside perspective… some might even say that you were… in love with him.

Oh God, it was true. You couldn't stop thinking about Bill. He looked like he was sculpted after an angel. A prince charming on a white horse. And what he lacked in academic intelligence he more than made up for with kindness. He always treated you with the utmost respect, while you paid him back in nothing but sarcasm and insults.

You didn’t know exactly why you were so mean to him. Perhaps it was your nerves trying to stop you from getting overeager and admitting your crush. One day you were going to have to either man up and confess your feelings or get over him but that day didn’t seem to be approaching anytime soon.

You were intent on pretending he wasn’t here, setting up your own place to sunbathe until you heard your name fall from his lips.

“Y/n!?” Bill walked up behind you, prompting you to turn around to face him. “What are you doing here?”

“Bill.” You stated dryly, “My family and I are staying nearby.”

“No way! My family’s right over there!” He pointed at a nearby beach house, a young woman who you recognized as recently-graduated and newfound wife, Missy Preston making out with Bill’s father on the porch. Ugh.

“Yes way.” You responded dryly. “We’re over there.” You pointed over your shoulder. “Isn’t this a coincidence, my ideal vacation ruined by the one person I didn’t want to see.” You noticed a flicker of disappointment flash in his eyes, but you couldn't stop yourself even if you tried. “Don’t get any weird ideas about getting all chummy with me, trying to hang out or anything. Just because we’re staying at the same beach and all.” You scoffed, causing him to flinch.

“Uh, yeah. Fine with me, y/n.” He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly before walking off. You eyed him, sighing softly.

“What is the matter with me?” You mumble, setting yourself down on the sand. This would have been the perfect moment to get closer to him if only you didn’t have to open your stupid mouth.

[Bill’s POV]

As Bill walked off, he felt most confused. He could never remember what he did to make you dislike him so much, but tried to get back on your good side. Thankfully, with the sun, sand, and waves surrounding him, Bill couldn’t stay too upset for too long.

He had decided to finally get in the water, heading towards the crashing shore when he had stepped on something.

Huh. Bill was met with the sight of a brightly colored bucket and shovel. Excellent! There was nothing more resplendent than a nice sand castle. Ted was going to be so jealous when he heard. All he was doing for the week was staying at home watching Deacon.

Too caught up in his new activity, Bill barely noticed someone approaching him.

“That’s a stellar sandcastle you have there.” Bill’s eyes practically bugged out of his head. Growing up in California he had seen his fair share of tan beach babes, but this one took the cake. A total babe. Talking to me.... Say something, dude!

“Thanks.” Bogus. Thank God Ted wasn’t here to see him blow his shot so odiously.

She pushed her sunglasses down her nose to look over the lenses, her bright eyes meeting his. “My name’s Summer.”

“Bill S. Preston, Esquire.” He puffed up his chest, raking a hand through his hair.

“Well, Bill S. Preston, Esquire, you seem to be a pretty great artist. That’s the best sandcastle I’ve ever seen.” His dark brows knitted in confusion, looking over her to see if she was teasing him. “I bet you’ll walk away with first prize from the sandcastle competition at the festival thing later this week.”

“Sandcastle competition?”

“Yeah! Whoever wins first place will get a guest appearance on Baywatch! But that’s not until the end of the week. How about, in the meantime, you can show me around the beach? It’s my first time visiting the bay.” Baywatch? That’s only the most triumphant show on television! Ted was going to be so jealous.

“Sounds most excellent! However, It is also my first time visiting the bay. Perhaps… we could explore the area together?”

“I like the way you think, Bill.” She winked, sitting on the sand next to him, the pair getting comfortable.

“What the hell?” You mumbled, looking over your book to watch Bill cozying up with a stranger. Your heart twisted painfully, swallowing thickly, You had no right to be jealous, he wasn’t your boyfriend, not to mention you were cruel to him in every interaction, but that didn’t stop a bitter taste from forming on your tongue.

You stood, collecting your things and trekking back to your beach house, the beach having lost its luster.

You were so over this vacation. You would have given anything to stay at home. It seemed everywhere you went, Bill and that girl seemed to be infecting the air with their infatuation.

For the past two days you’ve had to suffer watching the pair on the beach splash each other with sea water, build sand castles, and sunbathe with each other; However, that was nothing compared to today.

You and your family had decided to spend the afternoon on the boardwalk. There you had to endure the couple on the carousel holding hands, feeding each other saltwater taffy, and watching the sunset by the wharf. Most fucking heinous.

It was early evening, and thankfully, Bill and whatever her name was were nowhere to be seen. You didn’t know if you would vomit or cry every time Bill had given her that award-winning smile, the one you so badly wanted to be the recipient of.

You didn’t think it could get any worse, until you had leaned against the pier, ears picking up a familiar voice, Bill’s. Your heart fluttered, only to sink back down when you realized he was still with her under the boardwalk, back on the beach.

“Isn’t this amazing?”

“You are.” You scoffed at Bill’s attempt at flirting, ignoring the tightening of your throat.

“I’m so glad I met you.” She giggled. “I’ve never felt so comfortable with anyone.”

If it had been any other couple, you might have enjoyed such a romantic conversation. This was all your fault, if you hadn’t been such a bitch to Bill on the first day, perhaps it would have been you and him hanging out at the boardwalk.

“Can I see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll be here!”

“Excellent!” You heard him scat in that ridiculous, high-pitched way he did with Ted when they mimicked a guitar. As he walked off, you smiled, not noticing you were crying until a tear slid down your cheek.

You were such an idiot. If only you were able to act normal for a fucking minute and effectively communicate with Bill about your feelings. You had fucked up, it was too late.

“Hey!” You had heard her speak again, wondering if Bill had returned.

“Hey, babe.” That was definitely not Bill.

“It’s all going according to plan. I do believe Bill is falling head over heels for me.”

“Well who wouldn’t?” You rolled your eyes, angrily wiping the tears off your cheeks.

“He thinks I really like him. What a moron.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What the hell was she talking about?

“If he’s as good as you think he is, we’ll for sure win the contest and end up on Baywatch.” It only took you a second to connect all the dots. This jabroni was clearly her boyfriend, and she was only flirting with Bill to win the stupid castle contest.

You had heard enough, running back to the beach in hopes of finding Bill.

Fuck, all these beach houses looked the same. If Bill hadn’t pointed out which house he was staying at you would have no idea how you would find him.

You knocked on the door, praying you remembered the right house, and that Bill would answer instead of his hormonal parents.

“Y/n?” Thankfully Bill did answer the door, hair wet from what you assumed to be a recent shower. “How’s it...hanging?” He stepped out onto the porch, shutting the door behind him.

“Hey. I’m sorry about being a dickweed earlier.” He seemed as equally surprised as you were by your apology. “Um, I guess I was just thrown off at your presence… that’s not really an excuse… anyways, the whole reason I’m here is about that girl you were with earlier.”

“Summer? What about her, dude?” Oh my gosh, of course her name was something as pretentious as Summer.

“Well, I’m not exactly sure how to tell you this, but… She’s using you. I was on the boardwalk, and I had overheard you leaving, and I guess her boyfriend came up to her.. Long story short, she’s going to try and get you to build her a sandcastle to win that festival thing at the end of the week and take the credit so they can win the roles on Baywatch.” You met his eyes, swallowing thickly. “I’m sorry.”

He stayed quiet, your eyebrows furrowing.

“That’s heavy. I mean, I’m not stupid. You’re usually most cruel around me, and now you’re acting all...nice? I do not think I’m falling for this one.”

“You don’t believe me?” You couldn’t believe it. “I know I could be less of a bitch to you, but I’ve never lied to you in all the years I’ve known you. You just met her three days ago!”

“Y/n…” He spoke carefully. “I think you were correct when you said we shouldn’t try to hang out just because we’re staying at the same beach.” Your throat tightened, that sour taste returning to your tongue.

“Fine!” You hissed. “I don’t even know why I wasted my breath and time trying to warn you. God, I wish we had never come to this stupid fucking beach!” You ran off his porch into the sand, face burning with shame.

Bill couldn’t stop thinking about your interaction yesterday. He was barely paying attention to anything Summer was saying to him. He wished Ted was here. He always knew what to say.

He walked beside her on the boardwalk, eyes glued to the crashing waves, mind replaying the scene over and over again.

“Bill, are you listening?” Bill blinked, turning to face her, cheeks flushing.

“Sorry.”

“I said I’m going to get more sunblock, you’re looking a little pink.”

“Oh, thanks, babe.” He heard her walk off, zoning out again. You had looked so betrayed when he didn’t believe you, but, it couldn't be you were telling the truth. Why would you do something like that? All you seemed to do was glare at him, brush him off, and scoff at his jokes. It was clear he wasn’t your favorite person.

He snapped himself out of his thoughts once more, looking around to see if Summer had come back yet. His eyes caught her figure walking up the beach and he raised his hand to wave, stopping when he saw her wrap her arms around some unknown guy. He was too far away to hear what they were saying but knew what it meant when she had kissed him. Y/n was right. And I was so non-non-non excellent to her.

Sweat was dripping from Bill’s brow, his chest heaving as he panted. He could not remember where your house was, even if it was supposedly close to his own. It was the third time he had run up and down the coastline, trying to remember where you had pointed four days ago.

This was ridiculous, he was never going to find you… until Monday, when you both would be at school. But that was days from now!

“Y/n!” He fell to his knees in the sand, trying to catch his breath.

“Bill?”

“Y/n!” It was a miracle. He noticed the basket in your hands, having collected odd rocks, seashells and glass while walking along the shore. You had been trying to explore away from your house, hoping not to run into the very man who was looking for you.

“How’s it… hanging?” You asked awkwardly, scanning the area for the female that was usually seen by his side. “Where’s Summer?” He scrambled to stand in front of you.

“Y/n, you were most veracious last evening. Summer had been pursuing me with malicious intent. I caught sight of her embracing her boyfriend and I knew you were speaking the truth. I regret the way I treated you. I should have trusted you.”

“I mean… You had reason to doubt me. It’s not all your fault. Besides, it seemed as if she really liked you. I probably wouldn’t have believed me either.” You coughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of your head sheepishly. “Um, to be honest, I really only acted so bogus because I… like you.”

“No way…” He breathed, trying to recall any instance where it seemed you had a crush on him.

“Uh.. yeah. Yes way.” Your cheeks pinked. “But I obviously don’t expect you to return the feeling. I just get really nervous around you so I guess I figured I should treat you like dirt instead of trying to talk to you like a normal person. But I was worried you would think I was too weird, or that I talk too much, or-” You were cut off by a pair of lips. It was so foolish… and so Bill.

“What about Summer?” You asked once he had pulled away.

“What about her?” It was just like Bill to not stay too upset for too long.

His gaze was burning, his lips curling into that perfect, knee-melting, pearly smile. That smile you couldn’t stand. That smile that you couldn’t believe was finally directed at you.

#bill s preston esquire #bill/reader #bill x reader #bill s preston/reader #bill s preston x reader #Bill and Ted #reader insert #Bill and Ted/Reader #Bill and Ted x reader #Bill and Ted imagine #Bill and Ted Imagines #Bill imagine #Bill S Preston imagine #bill and ted's excellent adventure #bill and ted's bogus journey #bill and ted fanfic #bill and ted face the music

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dramarising-replacement · 4 years ago

Text

Dudes, I am lovin' this chitinous armor! The designs aren't half bad being a bug nut myself but my absolute favorite part is how much they look like the alien bug off of Men in Black.

#Flight Rising #Updates #No salt #submission

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vintagedolan · 4 years ago

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pls i need some soft ethan fluff 🥺🥺🥺

okay but can you imagine being Ethan’s girlfriend and they tried to trick you for the video? I’m 🥺

----

“We should just do what we did with Ryan. It worked with him, I bet she’ll fall for it,” Gray suggested, already moving to set it up. E bit at his lip as he looked through the camera, still unsure as he filmed his brother.

“I don’t think it’s gonna work dude. I think she’s gonna figure it out.”

Grayson shook his head, still convinced. “Bro, we got Ryan, we got mom. We got Cam. She’s not gonna know.”

Ethan checked his phone, reading the text you’d sent again.

be home in five, I have snacks :)

“If we’re doing it, we gotta do it now, she’s gonna be here any minute,” Ethan caved, heading back around the corner to get set up.

His heart was racing as he turned the camera around to himself, flipping the screen so he could frame the shot. He explained it in a whisper, just incase you got home early. “Okay, so we’re gonna do the same thing on Y/N and see if it works. Oh god she’s gonna be so pissed if she falls for it.” In reality, he knew you’d only be pissed at him, but he changed the phrasing just in case. The dating rumors were already wild, and to the fans, you were just a ‘really good friend’ of both of them who helped out with stuff sometimes.

As if on cue, you came in through the side door like usual, balancing the coffees and vegan banana bread in your hands as you made your way in.

“I come bearing gifts!” You called out, moving around the corner and heading straight for the counter before you dropped something.

“What’d yah bring me?” The voice came from behind you, and you turned around, Ethan’s coffee in hand, ready to pass it over.

He held his hand out for it, eyes meeting yours for just a second, and you paused, retracting your arm, and the coffee with it. You squinted at him, double checking.

Yep. That was definitely not your boyfriend. You took a step back from Grayson before you spoke.

“You cut your hair. Oh my god you finally cut your hair.”

“NOOOOOOO!” He yelled, head falling back and hands moving to his face in defeat. You just looked at him, quirking your head slightly to the side.

“HELL YEAH!” Ethan’s yell was next as he rounded the corner with the biggest grin on his face.

You’d barely sat down the coffee before he was bear hugging you, spinning you around.

“What the hell is happening?” You half laughed your question, just waiting for them to explain.

Ethan passed the camera to Gray, who filmed the explanation of all the pranks so far, so animated and excited as he spoke that it made your heart warm. “And Gray wanted to trick you but I TOLD HIM it wasn’t gonna work. You’re the only one that didn’t fall for it,” he praised.

“Do I get a medal?” you teased, keeping it casual until they ended the clip. As soon as the camera was off Ethan’s arms were back around you, lifting you up to sit you on the counter.

“I knew you weren’t gonna fall for it, I knew it. My fuckin’ girl.” He was so proud that he might as well have had it written across his forehead.

Later that night after they were done filming and checking through footage, Ethan found you in bed, almost asleep. He stripped down quickly, climbing in beside you under the covers.

“Grayson, that you?” You grinned when his eyes bugged out for a second, and then he was rolling them.

“You think you’re so funny,” he mumbled, pulling you closer to him.

“Hey, gimme some credit, I’m the only one who didn’t fall for it. I get bragging rights.” He just nuzzled his face in your neck for a minute, breathing you in like he always did in the evenings, especially when he’d been busy all day.

“How’d you know it wasn’t me?”

“For a second I thought it was, but then he looked at me and... it just, wasn’t you. I don’t really know how to explain it.”

“It’s cause he wasn’t lookin’ at you with love.” He drug out the last word dramatically, tickling your sides with his fingers.

“Ah yes, his pupils didn’t turn into hearts when he made eye contact with me. A dead giveaway, you should have seen it coming.” You squeezed him closer to you with a laugh as he pressed kisses to your skin. When he pulled back to look at you, you expected him to continue the joke, saying some stupid off the wall shit that would have you cackling. But instead, his features softened before he spoke.

“Thanks for lovin’ me.”

Before you could question it, his lips were on yours, smooth and warm. You kissed him back, fingers ghosting over his cheek until he pulled back after a few moments.

“What do you mean?” It was almost a whisper, just for him.

“You just... you love me really well. And I’m grateful.”

“Well, you’re very welcome. Thanks for lovin’ me back,” you blushed.

“Anytime baby, anytime.” And his lips were on yours again.

#this is an old request but I have no regrets haha #I LOVE HIM #ethan blurb #blurb #anon #ask #c:video #e:blurb

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lihikainanea · 4 years ago

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oh my god. have we talked about bill. shaving. tiger’s. punani.???

We have not but this is a mental image I would like to DISCUSS.

Alright, so he’s waxed her before, right? But that was kind of...not by choice. He really just stepped in when tiger was beyond the point of no return and had made a big fucking mistake.

But let’s talk about how he does this on purpose. Let’s talk about those giant hands trying to handle a tiiiiiiny little razor, let’s talk about his concentration, his tongue poking out as he focuses, let’s talk about those gentle hands maneuvering around sensitive skin as he tries to do a good job.

And I mean...I wonder how this comes about. I think Bill is game for anything and probably a real kinky motherfucker, but this is maybe something tiger is way too shy to indulge in.

Somehow I think this kind of happens because maybe tiger’s gone and hurt herself again--some type of wrist/hand injury. And if you’ve ever shaved your lady bits, you’ll know it’s most definitely a two hand job and tiger maybe has a small cast on or some stitches that she can’t get wet. And listen, for the first week or so after she gets hurt, she just soaks in all the good lovin’ from her big dude. Just gets spoiled with it.

But maybe tiger also likes to keep this pretty bare down low, and as things start to grow back she gets a little uh...self-conscious. Starts maybe shirking away some of Bill’s lovin’ because she doesn’t want him to see her naked anymore, until she can get that shit under control. She can shower alright, she’s managed to master how to wash her hair with one hand, but when it comes to shaving...it really does take one hand to pull and keep things taut, and the other one to hold the razor.

Bill lets it slide when she tells him she’s not in the mood. He doesn’t give it much thought. Once, twice, but then on the third time he kind of...just wants to check in. Because again, it’s more than fine if tiger doesn’t feel like it. He just wants to make sure it’s not something else that’s bugging her. So when she shrinks away a little as he’s kissing her neck, he stops and grabs onto her chin lightly.

“What is it, kid?” he asks.

“It’s nothing,” she says immediately with a half-hearted shrug, “Just don’t feel like it.”

But like, here’s the thing. Bill’s not an idiot. And tiger’s a little flushed, she’s a little breathy, and her hand is still balled tightly on his chest, his shirt in its clutches. Her whole body is screaming at him that yes she wants to, so he knows something is up. He tucks some hair behind her ear, kisses the corner of her mouth softly.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tiger, you know that,” he murmurs, “But if you do want to and you’re saying no, can you tell me why?”

She sighs and Bill swears he hears a small whine in it. He kisses her again softly.

“It’s me kid,” he reminds her, “You can tell me.”

She lets out a long exhale.

“It’s gross,” she mumbles.

“Try me,” he says.

“I can’t...uh, I can’t shave with only one hand,” she mutters, and immediately her hands scrub down her face in embarrassment. She leaves them there, peeking through her fingers to see his confused expression.

“Tiger, really,” he pulls her hands away from her face, “A little leg hair is far from fucking gross.”

Tiger gives him an exasperated look, her eyebrows shooting up expectantly. She gives him a few minutes to try and figure it out.

“Bill,” she says, “I can’t shave.”

She waits. But then realization dawns on his face, clouded shortly after by...lust?

“Oh,” he says, understanding. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” she’s eyeing him curiously, but then Bill did something very unexpected. And he actually moaned, diving for her to crush his lips to hers.

“I’ll do it,” he panted breathlessly, “Please kid, let me do it.”

“What?” tiger shrieked, “Bill, n--”

But she’s cut off with another smothering kiss, and she’s taken aback when Bill moaned into it--loud and guttural.

“Please tiger,” he begged, “It’s kind of...a thing for me.”

Tiger shoved him away lightly, just to get a better look at his face. His cheeks pink, his chest heaving, he really did look...turned on.

“This is a kink for you?” she asked incredulously, “What the hell kind of--”

But then she stopped, because his look got just a little sheepish and embarrassed. He would never judge her for her kinks, she knew, and he always encouraged her to share them. She took a minute to take a deep breath, wrap her mind around the concept. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad? She loved his hands, loved how gentle they could be, and the idea of having them working around there for awhile did seem kind of...nice.

“Alright bud,” she caves, “If you want to.”

Bill crushed his lips to hers and picked her up, but she stayed his hands.

“Hold fire Billy Goat,” she stilled him, and his eyes flitted to hers, “This is embarrassing for me, alright? I’ll give it a shot because I’m not opposed to it, I’m just a little...shy.”

He smiles his little lopsided grin at her, and nods softly.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, pecking her lips. “If you want to stop, you know what to say.”

“I do,” she says.

“But this is such a fucking turn on for me.”

“Evidently,” her eyes flick to the growing bulge in his lounge pants, and he grins mischievously at her before picking her and and carting her to the bathroom.

And like, look man. God this is hot. Maybe he props her up on the washing machine so she can lean back on the cupboards, and he sets up with a razor, some gentle shaving cream, a little bowl of warm water and a rag. And he’s just so gentle and so fucking careful about it right--moving her leg a little, pulling her skin taut gently with his thumb and forefinger, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth as he concentrates, running the razor gently but firmly across her skin.

“If you nick me, I’ll be so pissed,” she says.

“Relax kid,” he replies, his eyes still downcast and focused on the task at hand, “I’ve been shaving for like, 15 years.”

“Have you though?” she teases, running her thumb across the soft peach fuzz on his jaw line. Bill’s stubble was patchy at best, his Scandinavian genes for being rather hairless were a subject of envy. His eyes just narrowed as they flicked up to hers, but soon he’s back focused on his task.

And there’s no hiding it. He’s concentrated, but his breathing is still more rapid than it oughta be. The bulge in his pants is growing, and every so often he inhales deeply, stopping and closing his eyes, his mouth slightly agape.

“All done,” he croaks out eventually, wetting a washcloth with warm water and wiping her clean. Tiger peeks down.

“Wow bud,” she says surprised, “You actually did a--”

But the sentence dies on her lips. Because Bill threw the washcloth aside, yanked her towards him by the thighs, and just licked a broad stripe up her slit before burying his face there.

#bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard drabble #BFF!Bill

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indigohitoshi · 4 years ago

Text

𝖋𝖎𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖓

[written portion]

“Hey, Y/N,” Kaminari sighed, “I’m really glad you said yes to meeting, I feel terrible.”

“Oh–no don’t worry, I do, too,” You both slid into a booth, sitting across from each other. A silence fell over the two of you until you finally let out a sigh, “What happened to me in middle school I wanted to keep in middle school, I don’t know how you found out, but I hope you understand that day I asked you to hang out I was going to tell you.”

“Y/N... stop acting like it’s your fault,” Kaminari reached across the booth and grasped at your hand, “I want things to go back to how they were, you know? Laughing, light-flirting, like um… friends do.” A nervous laugh escaped his lips.

“Oh? You call all your friends babygirl and mamas?” You questioned, only half-joking, but disappointed that he had said friends. “Do you call all your friends daddy?” Kaminari teased.

“Hey, I censored that word!” You claimed defensively, a soft blush spread across your face. “Kaminari, I don’t… I don’t want to be friends.”

“Did what I say hurt you that bad? I’m so sorry, I’m really sorry about that day-it was dumb of me-” He stammered out apologies.

“No, Kaminari–I… I want a um… you know, that uh…” You struggled to develop the word relationship.

“Ah, can’t seem to really understand what you’re saying,” Kaminari teased, but he moved from sitting across to you to the other side of you. He moved closer until your lips were barely centimeters apart, “Can you finish the question, babygirl?”

“A... um... I want a relationship with you!” You stuttered.

Kaminari grinned, “Okay, but I want to be the boyfriend.”

You grinned, “Good, I wanted to be the girlfriend anyway,” you finally leaned in. Kaminari tasted like hemp lipbalm.

Kaminari pulled back, “I um… I said friends because I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“I’ve been hopelessly flirting with you for almost two months, dude.” You watched him nervously chuckle.

Kaminari grasped your hand under the table as both of your guys’s food finally came, a soft thank you came from the two of you as you both glanced at each other and let out soft giggles. You both were in a daze.

“So… boyfriend, huh?” You opened the door for him and he excitedly smiled, “Yeah… so girlfriend, huh?” Kaminari put his arm around your shoulder and held you close. He really enjoyed PDA, because in the end, it was you that mattered and you he wanted to show off. It was you he had feelings for. It was you who over-apologized, who laughed at everything, who watched way to much anime, who was failing math but didn’t take anyone’s shit just because you were, you who cared about everyone even if they’re shit to you. He thought you were perfect for him in every way, and better than the one who lied and hurt him.

“Hey, Y/N?” Kaminari broke the silence. You hummed in response, “Never stop sending me memes.”

You giggled, “Never ever.”

“Pinky promise?” He stuck out his pinky, you nodded and intertwined his with yours. A small spark jolted through the both of you, a soft chuckle rose from Kaminari, “Electric love.” He released your pinky and continued the walk back to the dorm

[social media portion]

E L E C T R I C L O V E !

a kaminari social media au

SYNOPSIS: Y/n is moved to class 3A after beating Bakugou in the provisional liscense exams, and Kaminari takes a special liking to her after her personallity sweeps across UA. But there’s this one rumor that’s been bugging everyone that she constantly brushes over that she swears isn’t true, and so what even if it was?

Warnings: lots of swearing, mention of drugs, aged up (class 3a), slight suggestive content

masterlist

fourteen

taglist

@fairy-inthegarden @ohnosiren @todoplusultra @renmazing @nettiewrites-bnha @the-cold-starry-night @shinsou-lovin-hours-anon @dicerawr @missalienqueen @silverdashipper

a/n: ohhh woww ! haha that’s the end of my first smau🥺i hope you enjoyed !! im so sorry if some parts got confusing :( i tried my best ! please read are you worth it? a tsukishima smau :). im so happy if you enjoyed, thank you so so much for reading !!

#bnha #bnha fic #kaminari denki #kaminari x reader #bnha smau #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #midoriya izuku #mina ashido #ochaco uraraka #sero hanta

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sunflower-swan · 4 years ago

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Wolfstar Chapter 3

A/N: Here’s what you need to know: I created this story for Writer’s Month 2020. Every day is a new prompt, and therefore a new chapter. This is an AU Wolfstar where Remus is a tattoo artist next door to Sirius who manages a flower shop. James and Lily are alive in this universe and own a coffee shop across the street. And to make parts of the story work with the prompts, Remus is about 10 years older than Sirius. It also takes place more or less in present time, minus coronavirus.

This is chapter 3 of a multi-chapter work. If you’d like to start from the beginning, here is chapter 1.

Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters. I just like to play with them.

Day 3 Prompt: Magic

Rating: Teen and Up

Word Count: 1218

Tags: language, pining

Chapter 3

Sirius

The Lovin’ Spoonful, “Do You Believe in Magic”

If you believe in magic, come along with me

We'll dance until morning 'til there's just you and me

And maybe, if the music is right

I'll meet you tomorrow, sort of late at night

And we'll go dancing, baby, then you'll see

How the magic's in the music and the music's in me

Fuck, I’m tired. Sirius looked at the clock on the wall. Eleven? Godric, save me from this week. He rubbed his hands over his face.

Silas left hours ago. After they finished eating at the Cafe, he accompanied Sirius back to the Loft. Sirius was so swamped with orders to finish that he didn’t stick around long though. Sirius thought he seemed preoccupied or bothered by something, but didn’t press the issue. It was probably all the hours he was working this week, which they had already discussed at length.

A little magic to speed up this process won’t hurt. He walked to the door and peeked outside. All was quiet and dark as he looked up and down the street.

Sirius walked back to the workstation and withdrew his wand. With a few silent charms, first, the bills magicked themselves into envelopes and added the correct address label. Then he sent the completed orders to the back room, which would be picked up tomorrow. He had just finished casting some simple cleaning and organizing spells when a deafening sound came from behind him.

SLAP! BANG! BANG!

Startled, he turned to the source of the commotion. Shit! Remus had both palms on the window, eyes and mouth in wide circles. Sirius wondered if he remembered how to obliviate someone. He stowed his wand out of sight as Remus flung open the door and entered.

His expression would have been comical if the situation was not grave. Amber eyes bugged out as big as saucers and mouth agape, he walked jerkily toward where Sirius stood.

“Sirius?!” Remus' voice was at least an octave higher in pitch than normal.

“Hey, mate.” Sirius approached his friend the way one would a frightened animal, with one hand outstretched the other concealing his wand behind his back. Ok, just get him to calm down and not leave.

“You’re a WIZARD?!”

Sirius stopped his advance on his friend as Remus withdrew a wand from the inside of his jacket. Now it was his turn to be shocked. Unable to move or comprehend what was actually happening, Sirius tried to form words but none would come out. He felt like a fish out of water.

“Wh- wh-” Finally, “…WHAT?!”

The two wizards stared at each other. Remus was the first to crack. His shoulders relaxed and a grin spread from ear to ear making the corners of his eyes crinkle. He rushed forward and embraced Sirius in a rib-splitting hug. “How the fuck did we not know this?”

Sirius’ brain short circuited. He was too stunned to do anything except pat Remus awkwardly on the back. “Erm…” What the fuck is happening right now?!

Remus released him from the hug and held him at arm’s length. His eyes sparkled. “How is this possible?”

“Wait. Wait…you’re a wizard?” Sirius' brain started to work again. It felt like it was going in fast forward to make up for temporarily stopping the past few seconds. His racing mind made him feel dizzy and his knees buckled under him.

“Whoa, there.” Remus caught him under the arms. Sirius cheek pressed into Remus’ lithe chest. “Breathe, mate.”

He did as instructed. Damn, he smells good. Like old books. The familiar kind you keep rereading even though the spines are cracked and the back cover is half fallen off.

There were no chairs around, so Remus continued to hold Sirius and guided him to the floor. “Still with me?” He patted Sirius cheek.

“Yeah.” Sirius pulled away from Remus' chest, suddenly bereft and yearning for the warmth it had provided. The sudden realization that he was sitting in Remus’ lap, on the floor of his flower shop, flooded through him. He felt his ears burn and tried to stand, only for his head to spin and to fall back down. Remus caught him in his slender arms again.

Damn. He smells really good. Like old books and chocolate. Not fancy chocolate. The kind you nick out of the cupboard when you need to feel comforted.

“Dude. It’s ok. Just breathe.” Remus grinned.

Sirius attempted to ignore how natural he felt wrapped in Remus’ tattooed arms. He disregarded the way his heart raced when he inhaled his musky scent. He overlooked the way his stomach flipped because he was so close he could see the green-hazel flecks and dark copper ring in his eyes. They reminded him of leaves on a still lake in the autumn. In reality, he failed to do any of these things, and he knew it.

“I- I think I’m ok now.” Remus continued to support him as he wobbled to a standing position with his hands on his knees, like an out-of-breath runner. He let out a harsh breath and cocked his head to the side to look up at Remus. “You’re a wizard?”

“Yeah. And so are you it seems.”

“Well, I already knew I was.”

Remus waved his wand and conjured two chairs. “Sirius, please sit down before you fall down again.”

Sirius appreciated the concern Remus showed for him, but he did not appreciate his own body’s apparent inability to stay upright in this moment. This is too much. What the actual fuck? He leaned back in the chair, closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I must be dreaming. I fell asleep while I was working late, and I dreamt that Remus saw me doing magic and then barged in and announced that he is also a wizard. Any minute now I’ll wake up.”

Sirius felt a sharp pinch on his thigh. “Yee-ow! What was that for?” He rubbed the area and cast a stern look at Remus.

“To prove to you that you are in fact not dreaming.” Remus leaned forward and fixed him in with piercing eyes and a bright smile.

Without warning, Sirius began to giggle. Then he snorted. The giggle and snort turned into a snicker and a chuckle. Soon he had thrown his head back, howling with uncontrollable laughter. He held his sides as he shook, and he felt tears squeeze out the corners of his eyes.

Remus leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs and folded his hands in his lap. Amusement danced on his face watching Sirius’ sudden fit of laughter.

Sirius wiped a tear from his eye. “This is the most absurd night.”

“It certainly is.” Remus let out a small chuckle.

~~~~~

The pair talked for over an hour. They discussed the ludicrous situation in which two wizards, who did not know the other was a wizard, could be business neighbors in Muggle London. They reminisced about students with whom they had each attended at Hogwarts, Remus having been older, and Sirius having been younger. Around midnight they conjured some food and drink to enjoy with each other. It was in the wee hours of the morning when Sirius announced he had to go home and get a few hours sleep before coming back. They walked out of the flower shop together.

“By the way,” Sirius said. This is going to blow his mind. “James and Lily are magical, too.” He barked out a laugh as he turned on the spot and disappeared with a pop, leaving Remus on the sidewalk looking like someone whose world had been turned upside down.

Next Chapter: Chapter 4

#writersmonth2020 #wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #remus x sirius #alternate universe #harry potter #fanfiction #fanfic

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carol-effing-danvers · 5 years ago

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knock me the fuck out (i dare ya, babe), finale

Weep with me tears of joy and fulfillment for this soft boy and his cuddly boyfriend.

i have some more thoughts about this universe that i may or not get to, but they aren't really relevant to the story i wanted to tell here, so those will have to be for another tale :D

part one, part two, part three

(if you’d prefer to read this in Ao3′s format, click here)

Billy is deliciously warm, deliciously relaxed and deeply asleep when the phone rings on the table beside the bed. He gives a displeased grunt and buries his face into the pillow as Steve rolls away from him to pick up the call, hoarsely croaking “’ello?” There’s a pause as he listens to the caller, then surprises Billy by tapping him on the shoulder. “For you, Billy.”

What the fuck? He mumbles a confused “Hello?”

“I’m so sorry.” Max sounds as tired as he is, maybe more. “But Lauren refuses to go to sleep – I told her that you’d be back in the morning, but it’s already almost midnight, and the more tired she is, the more upset she gets. Can you please talk to her for just a few minutes?”

“Yeah,” he slurs. “’a course. Lemme get up first so we ain’t talking in Steve’s ear while he’s tryin’ to sleep.”

“Oh my god,” Max says miserable and guilty, repeating “I’m so sorry, Billy.”

“No, no, no – it’s okay,” Gently, he closes the door behind him, thankful that Steve owns a cordless phone and trying not to walk into a wall. “I shoulda knew she’d bug out if I didn’t come home.”

Max murmurs “Lauren, Uncle Billy wants to talk to you.”

His whole heart breaks – Lulu is sucking in air hard, sobbing quietly. Poor Max must’ve been trying to get her to sleep for hours. “Hey, my girl. Why won’t you let Mommy tuck you in?”

“Wh-wh-why did you leave?!” she wails, sorrow all renewed.

“I didn’t leave you, baby. I’m having a sleepover with my friend, I’ll be back tomorrow. Mommy told you that, right?”

In a tiny voice, Lulu replies, “Yes.”

“I’m never gonna leave you without saying goodbye, Lulu,” he says softly. “I promise. Who’s my girl?”

“I-I am,” she hiccups, but she sounds a few shades calmer now.

“That’s right. And it’s gonna snow tomorrow, so I thought I’d take my girl out to make a snowman,” he says solemnly. “But we can’t do that if you’re too tired to play outside, Lulu. Can you lay down and close your eyes for me?”

“Don’t hang up!” she says, a bit frantic, and Billy feels another tug on his heartstrings.

“Won’t hang up, baby. Close your eyes for me and lay down. Okay? Lulu, skip to my Lu. Lulu, skip to my Lu. Lulu, skip to my Lu. Skip to my Lu, my darlin’…”

He has to stay with her, and sing to her, for he doesn’t know how long. He won’t leave until he’s sure that she won’t feel abandoned and there’s a period of calm before Max whispers “She’s asleep now. Thank you so much, Billy.”

She sounds close to tears herself. She’s probably been up since four or five o’clock this morning and as it turns out, Lulu isn’t the only girl with a piece of his heart. “Sweet dreams, little sister.”

“Sweet dreams, big brother.” Max sniffles.

Billy stumbles back toward the bedroom and finds Steve basically doing what he was doing for Lulu, except that Steve is singing his song to his fucking cat, a dark blob resting on his stomach as he pets her, scratching her around the ears and beneath her chin. “With no lovin’ in our souls, and no money in our clothes, you can’t say we’re satisfied…”

His voice is a beautiful purr, husky with sleep, warm and loving to an animal that Steve obviously cares about.

Billy is leveled like the Starcourt fucking Mall.

He blurts out, “You’re gettin’ the words wrong. It’s ‘coats’, not ‘clothes’.”

Fuckin’ smooth, Hargrove. Real fuckin’ smooth.

“Mmkay,” Steve says serenely, eyes closed. “It sounds better my way.”

Anything coming out of your mouth sounds better. “Yeah, it kinda does, doesn’t it?”

As he slides back underneath the covers, Angie gets annoyed with them moving around the bed and hops off to wander back out of the room, tail held high. Steve curls around him, humming contentedly under his breath. Steve’s nose brushes along his neck, breathing inward, and Billy feels like he’s gonna die, because this much happiness at once just can’t be good for you. His mouth has gone dry.

Steve gives another contented hum, wrapping an arm around his waist and a leg around his hips. His hand, resting at Billy’s heart, caresses down the scarred skin and muscle to rest near the waistband of his boxers, and Steve’s thumb leisurely strokes up and down his lower belly, through the trail of hair leading down to his crotch. He murmurs against Billy’s skin “I never get this.”

“Hm. I hope I’d remembered getting you to feel me up,” Billy replies, grinning at the quiet darkness.

“No.” He feels Steve grin against his shoulder, which is…just…the best feeling. “A bed. Talking. Just…letting me kiss you.”

“Letting you,” Billy repeats, a bit sarcastically. “It’s become my cross to bear.”

Steve lightly bites him on the shoulder, and Billy can feel the way his mouth still stretches around a smile. “Okay, you know what I’m saying here.”

“Yeah, I guess I do. But ain’t no hardship, sweetheart.” He squeezes Steve’s hand, and he’s silent for long enough that Billy asks, “What’chu thinkin’ about, Stevie?”

Steve sighs, low and sweet, fingers still petting at his belly. “Billy Hargrove thinks I’ve got heartbreaker’s eyes. I’m thinking ‘bout that.”

“You do,” he whispers, earnest, heart in his throat. “Took your sunglasses off and I see these big brown eyes – and my soul left my fuckin’ body, Steve, I swear. I remember-” Billy swallows, and part of him can go back to that scared, raging, confused boy. “I remember thinking that it wasn’t fair, that no boy should be able to break my heart with just eyes.”

Steve laughs, ducking his face into Billy’s neck sheepishly, even though Billy can’t see him anyway. His skin is hot against his own, lashes like the flutter of his butterfly wings over his skin, making his heart thud harder. “You are a real romantic. I never get that, either.”

Billy snorts, but he can’t really deny it. “It’s too bad, y’know. Cause you’re pretty good at this part, darlin’. Where the hell is my lullaby, though?”

Steve pets his skin some more, slow and lazy, and Billy thinks that maybe he’s already falling asleep-

“Which way you goin’, Billy? Can I go, too?” he croons, fingertips warm and gentle on his skin, petting his abdomen and stroking along the tendons of his neck, lips warm and whisper soft upon his skin. “Which way you goin’, Billy? Can I go with you? You are my whole, babe, my heart and soul, babe. I’d have nothing to show, babe, if you go away…”

He’s got chills running up and down his spine, even though his face and chest feel hot and feverish. Billy’s dying, he’s dying, because he knows now that his love was never wasted on this boy. “Who’s the real romantic?” he whispers hoarsely, relaxing his weight back against Steve’s body. “You’re sweet, Stevie.”

“You’re not fooling me,” he murmurs back and kisses beneath his ear, soft and wet. Billy shudders. “You are, too.”

He takes Steve’s hand, smooth from a life of finger-paint and glitter-glue, and presses his mouth to the palm. “Gotta keep that our special secret, darlin’.”

Sleepily, Steve says “Ain’t a secret, baby.”

---

Steve spends a week just sort of walking on fucking air.

“What’s up, buddy?” Steve doesn’t even bother to ask who it is – Dustin calls him at five o’clock on the dot, every Monday. “Excited to finish up your midterms and come home for a little while?”

“Yeah, I’m going straight to a study group as soon we’re done.” He sounds as cheerful as he ever is, but by now, Steve is also intimately familiar with what he sounds like when he’s tired, too.

“Okay, but try to make sure you get enough rest,” Steve says, holding the phone on his ear with his shoulder as he lifts Angie onto his lap. “You’re smarter when you’ve slept longer than four hours a night, buddy.”

“Yeah, I know.” Then, a little less cheerfully, “So, uh…how are you feeling?”

Steve frowns. Had he been sick the last time he talked to Dustin? He didn’t think so… “Uh…fine? Why?”

“Well, you know…the ten year anniversary is coming up,” Dustin says awkwardly. He sounds distinctly like he’s also frowning now. Unhappy. “And like…I get worried about you, and stuff.”

“Dustin…”

“-and you always say you’re fine, even when you’re definitely not fine…”

“…pal…”

“Robin says you’re okay, which I guess is good but…”

“Dustin.”

“-it’s not the same as be able to see for myself…”

“Dude, seriously-”

“And you’re lonely, man, the people there treat you like shit!”

“DUSTIN!” Steve says loudly, scaring poor Angie right off his lap. “…I have a boyfriend.”

He says the words before really thinking about them and all of their implications. Dustin lets out this hilarious little ‘eep!’ before shrieking “Oh my god, really?!” like he’s suddenly sixteen again and asking Steve how two men have sex, in the technical sense, and jeez-

Steve really misses him, feels his eyes sting. “Yeah. I mean…it’s a new thing, but we’ve already gone on a few dates and it’s going pretty well.”

“Really? Okay, well, what’s he like?!” Dustin asks impatiently.

“Uh, well…” Nervously, Steve wishes that he hadn’t bought a cordless phone. His fingers have nothing to play with in moment like these. “You sort of already know him…Or, I guess, knew him, would be the better way to put it.”

Exasperated, Dustin says, out of the blue, “Oh my god, if it’s Tommy Hall, Steve, I know he had a crush on you, but you can do way better-”

“What?! No, Tommy Hall didn’t-what the fuck, who gave you that idea?”

“Robin,” he says, with an obvious ‘duh’ at the end.

“What the fuck?!” Steve repeats, this time at a volume that makes Angie cower under the coffee table. “Oh Ang, I’m sorry, baby – c’mon. Daddy’s sorry.”

Apologetically, Dustin explains “She told me and Erica not to tell you, because she didn’t wanna out Tommy to you even though she was pretty sure he wanted to fuck you. Then after your crisis, we agreed he wasn’t good enough for you.” Steve feels a sudden headache coming on, because this entire scenario has ‘Scoops Troop’ written all over it in big bold letters. “If it’s not Tommy Hall, then who?”

“Billy. Max’s Billy.”

There is a pause before Dustin asks “…is he okay now?”

The thing about Dust is that he’s so outwardly goofy that it’s easy to forget that he’s so smart, and he’s so smart that it’s easy to forget that he’s so empathetic. “Yeah, he’s okay now. He grew up a lot more when he went back to California.”

“Is he nice?” It’s less a question and more a demand.

“He’s really nice,” Steve says honestly, finally coaxing Angie back onto his lap after earning her forgiveness. “And he’s more…patient now. More relaxed. I think Lauren might be his best friend – he calls her Lulu, and I see him every morning when he drops her off. He um…he works for El.”

Jane Hopper is something of a…not exactly a sore spot for Dustin, but mentioning her tends to make him droop like a wilting daisy. They are not close and probably never will be. Steve used to think Dust was exaggerating when he said that Eleven didn’t like him, but she tends to shut down in one on one conversations with him, and she’ll do just about anything to avoid being left in a room alone with him.

Steve doesn’t really think that it’s because El straight up doesn’t like him, he thinks that it’s more of a matter of a sheltered person like El not quite knowing how to deal with a personality as loud and attention-grabbing as Dustin’s could be. That reaction crushes his self-confidence though, so the Scoops Troop try not to bring her up, and Steve tries to do El the courtesy of not overwhelming her too often.

“Oh good, Mike was just telling me she was getting busy enough to start needing help,” Dustin says neutrally. There was a pause, and then, more quietly, he asks “Is Max doing okay?”

It’s a little weird, because even though they’re all the same age, Max kind of had to grow up the faster, because while the others were thinking about the end of their freshman year of college, Max was giving birth and dealing with a marriage and a mortgage. “I think she’s excited to have Billy back in town – he’s hinted that she was having a bit of financial trouble before he got here.”

“So, you don’t think that she and Justin will be getting back together?”

Steve sighs, irritated. “If Lucas wants to make me a spy, the least he could do is ask me the questions himself.”

“That’s not a yes,” Dust coaxes. “Just yes or no, I refused to ask you anything else.”

“No, I’m pretty much sure that if he comes back to town, Max will be asking to borrow the nail bat.”

“Hm, there’s a long line for that. Can you pick me up from the station?”

“Uh-huh. Eight o’lock on the 30th, right?”

“Right.” Dust sighs, and again Steve’s heart gives a painful pang at hearing how tired he sounds. “Sorry, it’s time for my study group. Love you, Steve.”

“Love ya, kid.”

---

He has way more work to do now, since Robin insists that the original bet was for only a make-out session and he kind of ended up with a boyfriend, so she gleefully dumped upon him all of the quizzes she gave before the students began spring break, including the twenty page midterms she made them do. He didn’t have to grade the three page essays at the end but that still left seventeen pages to mark through forty-five times.

Despite the stack of paperwork in front of him, Steve’s still got a huge grin on his face as he sits across from Robin in the diner and lifts his coffee mug. Dazed, he says “I’ve got a boyfriend.”

He can’t say it too loud, that’s inviting trouble on himself that he doesn’t need, but he can’t hold it in.

Robin looks up, threads of hair escaping from her messy bun, and smirks at him, but her eyes are enormous and warm. “Yeah, you do.” Setting down her pen and flexing her fingers, Rob rests her chin on her hand. “And you still haven’t given me any details on dates number two and three.”

Steve’s brain helpfully provides him with the dreamy vision of both of those.

Date number two was a pool house in Evansville, drinking beer, talking trash at each other that was at least half flirting, and finding reasons to brush up against Billy in public, until Billy stood behind him as he was making a shot and growled in his ear, “Get in the fuckin’ car, darlin’. Gonna bite you where you like it.”

They steamed up the windows of the Impala that was the Camaro’s spiritual successor, and Billy pulled him on his lap, yanked opened the buttons on his shirt and assaulted Steve’s chest – pinched, kissed, sucked, and yes bit him, until Steve had his hands braced on the roof to keep himself grounded in a world that kept spinning, and cried “Oh fuck, Billy, stop, I’m gonna come.”

“Mm, I don’t hear a downside anywhere in there. Lemme get you off, heartbreaker.”

Right there in the driver’s seat, Steve’s head thrown back and mouth wide open as he tugged frantically on Billy’s shortened hair, coming without a hand ever touching his dick because he had Billy’s groaning mouth sucking at his nipples. Limbs shaking, Steve shoved his hand down the front of his pants and jerked Billy off with sharp rotations of his wrist, kissing all over his face, his neck, his chest. “Baby, baby,” he murmured, nipping at Billy’s neck. “Look at me.”

Billy’s eyes were the blue of distant oceans, like he kept a part of California in him wherever he went. Steve whispered “Fuck, Billy, you’re beautiful” and suddenly his fingers were soaked with come, Billy staring up at him in stunned rapture, like Steve was the sun and he couldn’t bring himself to look away.

Date three was Billy making California-style tacos for him (he had no idea that avocados were so delicious, what the hell!) and then watched Stand By Me, the Friday night movie on tv, head on Billy’s shoulder while he explained how Stephen King basically ripped off The Party’s life story, minus Maxine and Eleven.

Billy looked so startled when Steve started groping him on the sofa. There were sometimes moments that Billy really seemed to think that Steve was some kind of stuck-up prude, when he looked absolutely flabbergasted that Steve was as into this as he was, could be as aggressive as he was.

“Bed?” Billy asked in his ear, grinding down against him, his hands squeezing Steve by the hips. Thick, throbbing against him, making Steve’s mouth water and his heart beat three times faster. His belly was wet with pre-come, smeared all over his skin, burning hot where their skin met.

Steve had his teeth clenched together, trying not to shout so loudly that all his neighbors knew his guest’s name was Billy. He grabbed Billy by the upper arms and squeezed hard, sweating and arching his hips into his every motion, thighs tightened around his hips. “Billy, if you stop right now, I swear I’ll kill you.”

“Yeah?” The dummy was so surprised. “Getting close, heartbreaker?”

Sometimes, Billy still seemed surprised that Steve even reacted to him, like he was an untouchable statue. My ice princess. But he was flesh and he was blood, and it scared him, how much he wanted Billy to touch him. How bewildered he felt at the sight of Billy lying next to him in the morning, face down in the pillow.

He’d show him a goddamn ice princess.

“Give it to me good, baby, c’mon,” he moaned, and Billy bucked faster, breathed harder. Steve could feel his arms shake and smiled against his mouth. Raking his nails down his back, Steve slid his hands beneath the back of Billy’s boxers and got two handfuls of his ass, rasping “That’s it, like you mean it. Fuck, don’t stop, Billy. Right there! Baby-baby-!”

“Steve-o, earth to Steve-o!” Robin sing-songs. “What planet did you land on, dingus? Care to share with the class?”

He waves her off. “You don’t want to hear all the sweaty, manly details, Rob…”

She watches him drift off, pale skin flushing warm and vivid. “Oh my god, what’s that face for? What did you do?!”

Blushing like a schoolgirl, Steve hides his face. “After the boning, he made me hot chocolate and we spent three hours cuddling on the couch!”

“Oh my god, Steve, leave it to you to get embarrassed by the high school romance bits,” Robin is laughing at him, loud and happy. “What a dingus!”

Despite her laughter, Rob is practically glowing. Has Steve’s new relationship really made her this happy? With a bit of a whine to his tone, Steve says, “Well it’s not like I haven’t done the other parts before! I didn’t even know Billy wanted to do the sappy shit!”

She clicked her tongue, grinning fondly. “You love it.”

“I do,” he admits, bashful. “He’s all…romantic and stuff. Y’know.”

“And stuff? Come on, you can give me better details than that.” Steve can’t manage to do anything but blush harder and Rob smiles like the Cheshire cat. “Oh, that good, huh? I bet he brings you breakfast in bed and calls you pet names.”

Steve is hiding a smile behind his fingers, a lost and awed expression in his eyes. “Heartbreaker.”

“Hm?”

“He calls me sweetheart, and darlin’, and-and heartbreaker.” Self-conscious with himself, Steve buries his head in his arms and moans, “Oh god, please don’t make me say anything else.”

“That’s ridiculous and I love it,” Robin replies, with an enormous grin.

“Buckley, why are you torturin’ my guy?” Neither of them heard Billy walk into the diner, but there he is – blue flannel, fleece-lined jacket, and heavy denim. Steve becomes a puddle in the booth and it must be obvious because Rob looks positively gleeful and Billy is starting to look smug and maybe a little besotted.

Fuck.

---

Billy knows that Robin must’ve been teasing him – Steve’s pretty face is all pink, even the tips of his ears are red. Buckley, on the other hand, is almost demonic with glee. Clearing his throat, Steve gives him such an adoring expression that it leaves Billy nearly breathless. “Hi there, Harrington.”

“What are you doing here?” Steve asks playfully, with a smile that veers dangerously close to naked flirtation.

He shrugs. “Lulu went to her friend Sam’s birthday party. Wanted to check on you, since you said the slave driver chained you to your paperwork.”

Buckley huffs. “I won that bet fair and square!”

Steve huffs back, with an endearing little pout. “I never agreed to it, you bully!” He throws Billy a look with those devastating eyes. “She’s going to abandon me to see a movie. Wanna keep me company?”

If anyone ever figures out how fucking easily he falls to that gaze, he’s a dead man. Aw shit. From Buckley’s face, she’s already figured that out. “Yeah, ‘course.”

Buckley rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, like getting to moon at your new boyfriend is such a hardship.”

“Rob!” Steve hisses, looking at nervously.

She scoffs, getting up from the opposite side so that Billy could take her place. She gives Billy sort of a challenging stare, and tosses her head. “If he didn’t wanna go public, he should’ve said no the first damn time, when you warned him.”

Maybe Billy’s answer would be different if his father were still alive. But he ain’t. “It ain’t that big a deal – just don’t wanna get Harrington into any shit.”

She pitches her voice so that it won’t carry. “You don’t get to take whatever you want in private and leave him out in the cold in public.”

He can’t even imagine how Old Billy would react to having a woman talk to him like this. But by the hardness in her eyes, he does know that even Old Billy wouldn’t have scared her. Robin Buckley has fought monsters far more disturbing the one he used to be. She also, judging from the steel in her jaw, has seen people (men? women? both?) do this to Steve before. Take their physical pleasure from him in dark of night and then pretend they can’t see him in the light of day.

She looks ready to knock his teeth out if she doesn’t like his answer, and Billy can both understand that anger, and respect her desire to protect Steve from pain. “Down girl,” he murmurs, “I wouldn’t leave him out in the cold anywhere, never mind around these wolves.”

“Rob,” Steve says lowly. “Don’t give him a shovel speech. I can take care of myself.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” she responds, with a smile that’s equally sweet and poisonous. Billy’s opinion of her skyrockets. “Have fun, boys.”

Steve sighs at her retreating back, looking put upon for a moment before he smiles at Billy again. Flicking his hair out of his face, he pushes his glasses up his nose and admits, “I actually do have to work on these. Sorry.”

Billy steals his coffee mug. “Yeah, I kinda assumed that.” He pulls a dog-eared copy of Red Dragon from his jacket pocket. “Don’t worry, I can keep myself entertained. Besides, I got somethin’ real pretty to look at.”

He throws in a wink just for good measure, just because he knows he’ll be well rewarded with another rosy blush coloring Steve’s cheeks.

It’s relaxing, sitting around like a normal couple, nobody giving a shit about the two of them sitting there. Understandably, he’s pretty surprised when something – or someone – touches his dick under the table.

His eyes immediately shoots up to Steve’s face as the arch of a socked foot presses into the fly of his jeans, rubbing gently against the rapidly thickening semi there. The question on his lips dies almost instantly. He hardly needs to ask if it’s an accident – Steve’s gaze is already fixed on Billy, biting down on the corner of his lip as he tries to hide the curve of a wicked smile, his eyes dark behind the frames of his glasses.

Billy’s mouth drops open slightly as Steve’s toes curls around the rigid line of cock, wedged painfully against his zipper. Steve makes a low noise, a satisfied kind of purring, at how quickly Billy goes from semi to fully hard. Gripping the edge of the table with one hand and squashing his book into an open position with the other, Billy croaks “Steve.”

Oh so innocently with his angel-faced smile and his creamy rose blush, Steve says “What are you reading?”

Billy has to bite down a pained groan as Steve rubs him just a little harder. It’s torturous – there’s too many layers between them to get Billy off, which he suspects that Steve is well aware of, but it also feels so good that he doesn’t really want him to stop. Too late, he recalls Robin’s words about Steve in the 11th Hour. He likes to flirt with danger. He’s addicted to risk.

He honestly couldn’t think of anything riskier than Steve trying to bring him off in the middle of one of the town’s busiest attractions, only edged out by the churches and the bars. Billy stares at him helplessly, wide-eyed and voiceless with the force of his surging arousal. There is the hint of a command in his voice when Steve repeats, “What are you reading, Billy?”

“R-red-Red Dragon,” Billy responds hoarsely, fighting to stop himself from humping Steve like a fucking animal. He can’t stop himself from letting go of the table and sliding his hand under the cuffs of Steve’s slacks, wrapping his fingers around his ankle to keep him there.

Steve looks very pleased indeed and gives Billy’s dick another rub, finding his cockhead through his pants and flexing his toes right around it. “Steve,” he says weakly. “Are you trying to give me a fetish?”

Surprised, he asks “Do you have one?”

“No, but-” He holds in a whine and hisses, “Keep touchin’ my dick like that, and I’m gonna start having inappropriate thoughts about your feet, sweetheart.”

Surprised and curious now, Steve presses harder. “Can you come this way?”

“I don’t-I don’t know.” Billy has to hold back another whine and quickly lets go of his book before he can start accidentally ripping out pages. “Why…why are you…?”

Shyly, which is very rich coming from someone in the middle of giving him a footjob in public, Steve says “Just trying to make you feel good. Can’t use my hands from all the way over here.”

Despite these words, his stare on Billy is hungry, and he can hear Steve panting softly through his words. The distant part of his mind that’s still rational wonders what is that’s doing it for him – that Billy is kinda weirdly turned on by his feet, that Billy is somewhat at his mercy, or that anyone could catch them doing this. Or maybe it’s a little of all three.

Unable to take it any longer, Billy gently pulls Steve’s sock off, preferring to be able to touch warm skin, and cups the top of his foot against his dick. He strokes Steve’s ankle and rolls his hips as subtly as he can, swallowing a moan as Steve’s dark longing stare holds him captive.

“Dunno where you got an idea like this, heartbreaker,” Billy croaks.

“We can stop,” Steve suggests sweetly, pushing his heel against his aching balls and flexing his toes again. Watching Billy’s eyelashes flutter and the way the hand still on the table clenches and unclenches spastically. Steve nibbles his lower lip and lowers his voice to a suggestive, throaty husk “Or you can just come for me.”

“Steve.” He doesn’t know which is stronger, surprise or desperation or fear.

“Nobody’s watching,” he promises, still in that honey-sweet persuasive purr. He emphasizes this with an up and down rub against the denim seam and licks his lips with an obscene flick of the tongue.

Billy’s cock twitches hard, weeping pre-come into his boxers, and he knows that Steve can feel it because he’s losing the effort to hold in that wicked smile now. His tongue darts out again, like he can taste Billy in the air, and Steve squirms around like he’s trying to relieve the pressure on his own cock.

He sinks down in the booth and spreads this thighs apart, holding Steve against his prick with a little more pressure. He pleads “F-faster, darlin’. Just a little…”

Billy can feel the muscles and tendons in his ankle flexing and shifting as Steve immediately gives in, all coy teasing over as rubs at a pace clearly meant to bring Billy off even through the thick fabric. An echo from the past murmurs “Yeah, it’s me. Don’t cream your pants.”

His lips form around a silent ‘fuck’, trying not to be extremely obvious when he bucks into the contact, choking off his noises to soft helpless whimpers.

“Fuck, you are so hot,” Steve breathes in the present, nostrils flaring. He’s almost openly panting now and his eyes look nearly black.

Black holes that want to completely consume him. Billy bites down a scream and comes, wet and sticky, because beneath that angel-faced sweetness is a wicked, hungry smile. Just for Billy.

Lazily, Steve takes a twenty dollar bill from his jacket and slaps it down onto the sticky table. “Gimme my sock back,” he says, collecting all his papers and fondly stroking down Billy’s thigh before taking his foot back. “Do you like French silk?”

“Who doesn’t?” Billy says faintly, dazed.

“Good,” Steve says, all sugar and sweetness again. Billy’s fucking dizzy, man. “I made us one. Let’s go.”

“Don’t you want…?” His eyes dart down to Steve’s lap.

“Already did,” and there’s a hint of that dark gleam again. “Watching you, baby.”

Holy fucking shit.

#harringrove #knock me out babe #teacher steve #soft billy

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pk-omelette · 5 years ago

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hes a bug lovin dude

#claus mother 3 #mother 3 #ask #mother series #anonymous #askblog #((yall from my main will know and hate md for this))

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angrypedestrian · 6 years ago

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THE TIME IDIOTS EPISODE 410 TITLED “Tricky Dick’s Family Fun Time Jamboree” MY THOUGHTS:

So on the scale of legends presidents, this Nixon is light years better than the Lyndon Johnson from last season. Not a high bar, but he did manage to sail over it so, congratulations Dick

But do not get me wrong, it is also comically bad

for those keeping score at home the scale is from Johnson to Obama i am right and will not argue about this

grant and washington barely count so they’re in the middle

but dear god i can’t believe that the catalyst for this episode’s events is just Liar Liar but with Richard Nixon

NO ARTFUL NUDITY god

sara: grownups fight, it’s normal, it’s fine. i have definitely had normal healthy adult relationships before

ray: we actually weren’t-

sara: I’VE NEVER HAD A FEELING IN MY LIFE LETS GO KIDNAP NIXON

Zach vs. Legends understanding of government bureaucracy part 1639

THAT IS NOT HOW THIS WORKS. HE WOULD NOT BE ACTING DIRECTOR

what even is hank’s JOB

...what is gary’s job

ALSO zari and nate probably can’t date because of BUREAUCRACY

BUT WHAT DO I KNOW

NOTHING APPARENTLY!!!

crochet club??? for my babies??? I LOVE IT

everyone gets a craft! and then there’s legends craft night it goes exactly as you expect and charlie ends up in the med bay

an aside: zari in a suit? yeah

mona going “grrr”? the cutest thing I have ever seen

mick: i can’t believe this is happening again

force ghost len, descending from the ceiling: WELL, PERHAPS THERE IS A SOLUTION TO THAT PROBLEM MICHAEL

sara, you must be in a state because you are leaving john and mick...in charge of a Youth????

also that’s not where walter reed is

also charlie couldn’t also dress up as a doctor too, like anyone would notice?

lovin’ this funky royalty free background music-they got one extra tom wilson episode with that kind of creative budgeting!

but then we throw it right away again with Free Ride

which was wasted as background music tbh

hell YEAH gideon, you tell hank fuck YOU

sara’s version of punch bug involves knives

it’s the most dangerous game at the league

this episode was a riff on movies made for 50 year old men and me, and those demos alone, so thank you phil

phil: what do kids love? 70′s road/bandit movies, right?

phil: i’m so hip

nixon...have you ever met a hippie?

is there...a reason they need to all be wearing the shirts?

no, no there is not

canonically, john is a fan of the Lonely Island

he knows all the words to Ras Trent and you actually can’t tell me I’m wrong!!!

sara: i’m a great mentor, god. you’re so fucking lucky mona

Gary, your conspiracy board is so good baby

buuuuttttt, a gary nora combo? unexpectedly great

mona, you idiot. i mean that with love, but dear lord

nate INSISTED they dress up in the sheriff outfits

nate: we need to make sure we’re-

hank, already dressed

nate: oh, shit, maybe i am related to you

DJ ZARI HOLY SHIT

we could def get a whole episode of this and i would be VERY happy

fucking billy joel

that ALONE would make nate a springsteen fan instead

fuck billy joel

nathaniel stop trying to sympathize with your dad he’s BAD

i know it’s complicated but like fuck your dad dude

oh right, nora’s from the future, she’s like, ultimate generation z like Zari and so was essentially born inside a computer and intrinsically understands them

useful!

nora bb i missed you! i’m glad you’re back

ray, EVERYONE used a strategy guide to beat the water temple in OoT

ain’t no shame in that

the acting involved in the inhalation and expelling of the truth bug? where are the emmys??

academy? are you listening????

sara: i have NEVER had a FEELING in my LIFE, and i am NOT. STARTING. NOW.

mona: uhhhhh...sara launched herself into the sun?

mick: eh, she’ll come back

mmmmmmm that john and sara combo!!!

i LOVE them

they’re similar enough that they can actually get through to each other

matt ryan is an excellent winker

‘i don’t hear gender’ please shut up nate

mona’s gonna fuck some shit up!!!

i am PUMPED

maybe we should have cut away for that cgi transformation tho

anyways she’s doin it!!

KILL EM ALL fuck YEAH

nate handcuffing ray

well i’m sure that’s not the first time

ray: it’s not!

i bet hank fucking voted for nixon too

john’s really getting knocked the fuck out a lot this season

mmmhmmm yeah right shut the fuck UP hank

fuck this dude makes me mad

the actor they have playing wolf-mona is great and is probably not paid nearly enough

sara: this is a you not me situation do not think i will be following my own advice

sara: also if anyone tries to hurt you i will kill them

RAY AND NATE LOVE EACH OTHER NEVER FUCKING FORGET

my beautiful beautiful boys, these irl dragon bros

steelatom never dies!!!

and even outside of a shipping context, their canonical platonic love for one another should be taught in schools to children, like, fuck the goddamn patriarcy love your bros wholeheartedly!!

sara y’all have been stuck on a never ending road trip from hell for the past four years what do you think you have been doing this whole time?

lol charlie dissolved the us government

whoopsie gotta go fix that real quick!!

i can’t believe they remembered zari was in an ARGUS dystopian future!!

good job show!

hoo boy can’t wait for them not to deal with the amaya in the room with nate/zari

i am all for this ship, they’re fantastic, HOWEVER, it will be a crime when they don’t ultimately discuss it

I REALLY DO NOT LIKE NERON’S HOLE FACE

i do NOT

Wow Rest In Piss to Hank, guess they ran out of money to keep paying Tom Wilson, which is a shame

also guess i was wrong about the funeral next ep

but that does mean nate’s grandma is alive!! i was concerned

NEXT WEEK: oh that promo gave us...nothing. i can’t fucking believe we’re gonna get a bollywood musical number.

i mean, i can, but like, i have to at least pretend otherwise these lists lose their whole impact

#legends of tomorrow #legends of tomorrow spoilers #i LOVE a good road movie #and so does phil #because we are both middle aged men #HOWEVER not really who watches the cw #but anyways #the time idiots #my thoughts as i have them

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