#royal!steddie

[urdreamgirls-dreamgirl]

i don’t need wings to help me fly, pt. 1

Steve still vividly remembers the day his grandmother had flown in to Indianapolis when he’d turned sixteen years old. He’d never met her before but his constantly-traveling parents weren’t around, so he’d been tasked with airport duty and delivering his grandmother to the best hotel in the city.

His grandmother had turned up her nose and sniffed the minute she’d walked off the plane in head-to-toe pink Chanel.

“Your parents let you live here?” She’d asked in a posh British accent, not a single hair out of place even after an 11 hour flight from Europe.

“Oh, we don’t live in the city,” Steve had told her, smiling and taking her bags from her diamond-encrusted hands. “We live an hour away from here.”

His grandmother had done a double-take at that. “You don’t even live in the city?” She’d sounded so appalled as Steve led her through the airport, her eyes widening as they’d passed the food court and she saw the McDonalds and the Dunkin Donuts. “Is this what you eat here?” She peered at someone’s tray as they’d passed with their Big Mac.

All Steve could do was laugh and accept his grandmother’s invitation to eat dinner with her in her penthouse suite at the hotel, where she’d hired a private chef for her week-long stay in the city. It was actually more of a command than an invitation, anyway.

That night, Steve had laughed as his grandmother had told him he was the Crown Prince of Genovia.

“Shut up,” Steve had laughed, dropping his fork with a clatter on the fancy porcelain of his plate.

“Shut up?” His grandmother had repeated, sounding aghast.

Steve shook his head. “No, I mean, like. Stop pulling my leg. That’s very funny, grandma.”

“I’m not joking, Steven. You are Steven Pierre Harrington Renaldi, Prince of Genovia.”

“Grandma,” Steve had said, still smiling. “I couldn’t even tell you where Genovia is on a map.”

And the rest had, as they say, been history. There had been a few bumps in the road and he’d almost abdicated his throne once or twice, but after spending every summer in Genovia for the past five years, he’d come to love his country and its people. Now, with his twenty-first birthday just one week away, he’s finally moving to Genovia’s Royal Palace full time.

When he’s brought into the palace from the private royal airport, he’s told that his grandmother is in a meeting with representatives from Genovia’s parliament. Since Steve hasn’t been crowned king yet, he’s technically not allowed to sit in on those types of meetings, but when he’d been exploring the palace when he was 17, he’d found a passage that ran directly behind his grandmother’s public state rooms where she met with foreign dignitaries and domestic politicians. After being delivered to his room by palace staff, Steve quickly changed from his airplane clothes and made his way to the passage. As he unlocked the tiny gate that would allow him to see and hear what was happening in the room, he hears his grandmother’s raised voice.

“You cannot possibly be serious!” She says loudly and it’s the first time Steve has ever heard his grandmother come close to yelling. “That piece of legislation is absolutely archaic!”

“Archaic though it may be, it still exists,” the man across from where his grandmother sits says smugly. Steve does not like the condescending way the man looks at his grandmother.

“We’ve never enforced the law before,” his grandmother insists.

“We’ve never needed to,” Prime Minister Motaz concedes reluctantly from Steve’s grandmother’s side. Steve watches as she turns to him in shock.

“And we don’t need to now!” Steve thinks his grandmother might be coming close to slamming her fist down on the table.

“Steven is young. He has no experience,” another voice comes from someplace in the room that Steve can’t see. “It’s not a bad idea to give him as much support as he can possibly have.”

Steve goes hot all over, flushing with indignation. His throat burns. He wants to defend himself, but he’s technically not even supposed to know who’s in this meeting right now.

“And forcing him to marry would be our way of giving him support?” His grandmother sounds incredulous. Steve’s mouth goes dry. Marry? Him? He’d only just graduated college

“No one’s forcing anything,” the smug man across the table from his grandmother says gleefully. “He’s allowed to pick whoever he wants. As it happens, I have the perfect candidate in mind.”

“If you’re talking about your deadbeat, drop out of a son, then this meeting is officially over,” Steve can practically hear the way his grandmother rolls her eyes at the man. He can’t help the smile that spreads across his face as he hears her.

“I’ll have you know that Eddie has returned to school and is currently at the top of his class in the comparative literature program,” the man says haughtily.

“Oh, perfect, his ability to analyze Chaucer will be the perfect addition in running the country to Steve’s expertise in international relations and political science from his accelerated dual masters program,” Steve’s grandmother replies sarcastically.

Steve practically fist pumps in his hiding spot. His grandma is so badass.

“Your Majesty,” the prime minister cuts in reluctantly. “Now that Viscount Mabrey has brought the marriage clause to our attention we have no choice but to bring this to a parliamentary vote. The entire body is meeting tomorrow morning; we’ll cover it then. You are, of course, welcome to attend, but you mustn’t interfere with the vote.” He glances across the table at the smug man who is apparently Viscount Mabrey. “Either of you.”

Steve can tell that the meeting is clearly wrapping up and it’s only a matter of time before his grandmother comes looking for him, so he quickly latches the little window and hurriedly leaves his hiding spot behind. As he’s glancing down at his clothes, brushing dirt and cobwebs from the fabric, he bumps into someone as he rounds the corner of the main hall. The stranger grasps Steve’s elbows, keeping him upright. Steve raises his gaze and meets a set of intense, deeply brown eyes. Pretty, Steve thinks.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” the stranger smiles and Steve registers the rest of his face. He takes in the dimples and the long curling dark hair falling around his shoulders. Pretty, Steve thinks again. “Wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“No, uh—no worries, my fault,” Steve stammers out, before clearing his throat. “I’m Steve.”

The stranger tilts his head. “Yeah, man, I know.” His smile widens. “I’ll see you around, Prince Steven.” And then, without another word, he continues his way down the hall, in the direction Steve had just come from.

~*~

“I don’t get it,” Steve says to his grandmother, running a shaking hand through his hair. “I spent all this time studying and reading and interning and now they’re telling me I can’t be king unless I’m married? What kind of old-fashioned, ancient law is this?”

“Honestly,” his grandmother replies, “the law, sadly, is not even that old. It was ratified only 75 years ago. I’m not sure why, as it’s never been enforced until now. We’ll have to keep a keen eye on Viscount Mabrey and his no good son, though. They’ve got to be up to something.”

“Who’s his son?” Steve asks.

“Oh, I don’t remember his name. He’s completing a degree at Oxford—though between you and me, he’s dropped out twice already, so who knows about all that,” his grandmother waves a dismissive hand through the air.

“Grandma,” Steve says reproachfully, but even he can’t help but laugh a little. These people are trying to steal his crown, after all.

“Oh, Steven, I wanted your birthday week to be perfect for you,” his grandmother turns to him and grasps both his hands in hers, her eyes glassy. “I know this isn’t what you expected to come home to, but there’s nothing we can do until Parliament casts its vote in the morning. So let’s just focus on your birthday ball tonight, shall we?” She squeezes his hands in hers and then let’s them drop. “I’ve flown Paulo in to help you dress for the night.”

Steve groans. The last time he’d seen Paulo, the stylist had leaked his identity as the long lost prince of Genovia to the press. But he’s so good at what he does, his grandmother had apparently found it in herself to forgive him. And honestly, the leak had been somewhat of a blessing in disguise, one that allowed Steve to embrace both sides of himself: the small-town Indiana boy-next-door and the European royal with the world at his fingertips.

“Time to get ready for your ball, Steven,” his grandmother tells him happily.

~*~

Steve always feels strange when he has to dress up for a big event. He doesn’t hate it, exactly—he actually kind of likes it—but he still feels a little like he’s wearing a costume and he knows occasions like this are going to be even more frequent after his coronation in a month and a half.

Steve makes his way into the ballroom and let’s himself be announced to his guests. The ball has already started and he crosses the dance floor to greet his grandmother.

“Ah, Steven,” she greets him, kissing him on each of his cheeks. “You look beautiful, my darling.”

“Thank you, grandma,” Steve responds, glancing down at his tux. “You look gorgeous as ever, of course.” And she does. Her dark hair is curled and piled on top of her head, artfully arranged around her shining diamond and pearl tiara. Her deep violet gown flares out at the waist and brings out the emerald green of her eyes. She’s stunning and regal, all the things a queen should be. Steve’s going to have a hard time filling her shoes when he’s crowned king.

“Happy birthday, my love,” his grandmother says, hugging him to her. “Go have fun. Dance. Eat cake.” She gently pushes him toward the dance floor and Steve can’t help but laugh.

He wanders over toward the buffet table full of cupcakes and cookies, his giant green and gold birthday cake in the center. His mouth waters slightly just looking at the flowers of spun sugar decorating the top. He knows it’s chocolate with vanilla frosting, his favorite. He’s so intent on getting himself a piece of his birthday cake that he misses the person crossing his path.

Steve bumps directly into a hard body for the second time in one day. He’s usually not this clumsy. A large, ringed hand flies out to grasp his bicep, keeping him upright.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” a familiar deep voice says, laughter lacing the words. Steve stares up into now-familiar deep brown eyes.

“Oh, you—sorry,” Steve replies, smoothing his palms down the front of his tuxedo jacket. The stranger from earlier stands in front of him, wearing black on black on black, polished and pressed and just as beautiful as before. His curly hair is tied in a neat low ponytail and his mouth is curved into a smile, once again showing off the dimples Steve hasn’t stopped thinking about since this afternoon. His eyes are sparkling.

“Not at all,” the stranger shakes his head. “My fault entirely, Prince Steven.”

Steve clears his throat. “You don’t have to keep calling me that. You can call me Steve.” He’s glad he doesn’t stutter this time, his voice coming out smooth and clear, regaining some of his Indiana charm.

“Steve, then,” the stranger’s smile widens.

“And you are?” Steve prompts.

“And I… was just about to ask you to dance,”the stranger says, holding out his hand.

Steve is… completely charmed. Sure, he doesn’t know this man’s name, but he’s beautiful and charismatic and Steve only has a few friends his age here in Genovia, so he takes the stranger’s hand and let’s himself be led out on to the dance floor. The stranger must be in the high ranks of Genovian society to have even scored an invite to tonight’s ball and Steve racks his brain to remember if there were any sons of Parliament members he hadn’t met yet. He doesn’t think so.

Once they’re on the dance floor, Steve’s breath catches as a strong hand circles his waist, another entwining their fingers together. Steve feels himself being twirled around the dance floor and it’s dizzying for more reasons than one. The stranger is captivating, his gaze magnetic.

“Okay,” Steve says after a few minutes of dancing. “You have to tell me your name, man.”

The stranger smiles again. “You can call me Eddie.” The song they’ve been dancing to comes to an end. Eddie raises Steve’s hand to his lips, brushing his mouth across Steve’s knuckles. “I hope we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other, Steve.” And then he turns and disappears into the crowd, leaving Steve dizzy and blushing on the dance floor.

[arelliann]

The final piece for @penny00dreadful’s amazing @steddiebang2024 fic, which is now complete!!! Read the full thing on a03 or here on tumblr

Sam has been incredible to work with and if you love some good enemies to lovers homoerotic sword fighting you’ll absolutely love her fic <3

[brobertdowneyjr]

I'm sifting thru fics like it’s 1848 and I'm panning for gold in the river

[swanparties]

you know the ship is good when the actors are basically holding up little dolls of their characters and making them kiss

[sc00ps-ahoy]

its kinda weird watching something with canonically gay characters when im used to having to make them gay myself.

[wheneverfeasible]

🧠🪱Wriggly Wednesday🪱🧠

Thanks for the tag @augustjustice! I was actually just thinking about how I had something for one of these.

So I’ve been reading a lot of historical fic lately, and it really got me wanting to do a royalty au. I don’t have a lot of solid details for it yet, and I don’t know if I’ll ever actually write it as I have a lot on my plate currently, but my basic idea is this:

The kingdom of Hawkins is ruled by a tyrannical king; lazy, prejudiced, and greedy. His queen is beloved by the people for the charity work she does, yet the king never hides the fact that he’s disloyal to her. He doesn’t have to, he’s the king. He doesn’t care if the woman he’s interested in is married or not herself, if he sees her and wants her then he’ll take her and the husband just has to deal with it. It’s almost an honor at this point. (Think very JFK.)

The queen hates it, however, and is just as vicious as her husband, only behind closed doors. She married for the crown, not for love, and her kindness is only a front she puts on for the public. Behind closed doors she is cold and vain and uncaring of the plight of others.

And then they have a son. The prince. He is just as rotten as his father. Lazy, greedy, thinks himself above all others. When he grows bored, he demands a plaything. That’s when the soldiers will sweep the streets and bring him beggars and street urchins and, sometimes, the prince will also demand for a petty criminal to become his plaything instead of being shipped off to slavers or executed. The playthings never seem to last for long, and they’re never seen from again.

One day, Eddie is brought forward as a criminal. It wasn’t actually him, or course, but his father. His father however skipped town and left Eddie to fall in his place. It’s known that Alan Munson was the worst sort of miscreant. A petty thief with a silver tongue that somehow managed to avoid being caught. Until one day he strove for too much and the kingdom was out for his head.

With Al having fled, however, sights turned to his son, Edward. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it? Of course not. At least, that’s what everyone says. So Eddie is brought to trial in his father’s stead. Eddie is certain he will be sent off as a slave or worse. Except.

Prince Steven whines that he’s bored, and he doesn’t want to sit through a whole trial. Can’t he just have the criminal as a plaything since his last one broke?

The king grants his son’s request.

Eddie has heard rumors of what sorts of things the prince gets up to with his playthings. According to some, it was a fate worse than death. At least a judgement of death was swift.

Except.

Well, Steve learned how to wear a public mask from the best of the best: his mother. His mask is more extensive, however, because he wears it inside the castle as well. Even his parents believe him to be nothing more than a spoiled, pampered brat. But in truth, it is quite the opposite. And the playthings?

Steve purposely seeks out the destitute, the needy, the ones who one more night out on the street could mean their death, and brings them in. Criminals too, if he knows they’re innocent, or only stole from necessity to survive, or if he believes the punishment far too harsh for their crimes. He takes them in too, as many as he can without his father growing suspicious.

He takes them in, acts for the public like a monster, and only when it’s just him and the “plaything” does he drop the act and let them know the truth. He’s going to get them out. He’s greedy and materialistic to the public because he gives the items away in secret, helping his playthings start a new life elsewhere. He helps them sneak out of the castle and out of the kingdom, if only they promise to leave their old life behind. It is the only way to keep them and those after them safe.

Eddie, of course, believes the worst of the prince, even when Steve’s mask drops alone in his room. He learned long ago not to trust royals. There’s a little bit of enemies-to-friends-to-lovers here then, as Eddie doesn’t trust Steve at first, and also refuses to leave the kingdom without his uncle.

So Eddie and Steve bicker about it, and Steve says fine but Eddie has to play the part of his plaything for the public and his parents, which involves a lot of being caught in compromising positions sometimes to sell it.

Except Eddie starts to grow real feelings when he realizes that Prince Steven really is a good man. Eddie soon has another reason why he doesn’t want to leave the kingdom, even if he believes a prince could never return his feelings.

Plot Possibilities:

- Steve’s last “plaything” was Jonathan. A rare volunteer to be the prince’s plaything in exchange for goods for his poor family. He initially does not trust Steve for a while, but eventually they build a kind of wary friendship.

- Steve was in talks for a betrothal with a noble lady, Nancy. She thought him a cretin as she only knew the mask he wore, while her lady-in-waiting, Barb, would mutter insults about him to her making Nancy have to cover her laughter. Steve heard them and thought they were hilarious, but pretended to be clueless.

- Jonathan sees Nancy and falls in love immediately, making Steve have to figure out a way to get the two of them together without blowing his cover. He eventually succeeds and Steve makes everyone believe Jonathan “broke” and was discarded when on reality he helped smuggle him out with Nancy’s entourage when the betrothal talks fell through and she returned to her land.

- Steve still anonymously takes care of Jonathan’s family like he promised he would, the only way Jonathan would leave with Nancy.

- Robin was originally given to Steve as a tribute, the daughter of an enemy soldier, and Steve keeps her as a plaything for a while (she attacks him the first night before he can explain the truth) and when she “breaks” he shortly thereafter obtains a new servant who looks remarkably like her, named “Rob”.

- During one of the times Steve is manhandling Eddie in public to keep up the act, Eddie gets a very ill-timed boner at the fake threat Steve growls at him, finding out the hard (pun not intended) way that maybe he might like some of the things evil Prince Steven is supposed to be doing to him.

- Eddie seduces Steve realizing the man would never force himself on Eddie. They try out some of things Prince Steven threatened him with and eventually Steve can make his mask’s threats seem far more genuine when Eddie follows him with bruises and a stiff gait afterwards. (Eddie loves every second of it.)

- A minor nobility cannot pay taxes so the king takes his young daughter for his son as payment and to humiliate the noble as a lesson for others. Her name is Chrissy.

- Robin is instantly smitten with Chrissy. The feeling is swiftly mutual once Chrissy realizes “Rob” is a woman.

- something something something

- Steve’s parents die/are murdered/are executed/idk

- Steve is made king and people are wary at first expecting him to be like his father. He can finally drop his mask and it’s revealed that all the good things people thought was his mom was actually him doing it.

- One of the first orders of business he does is grant Rob a title of nobility for loyal service and saving his life (stripping another noble of their title for their disloyalty/treason?).

- Steve tells Rob “he” can have any one wish of his granted. Rob asks for Steve’s concubine Chrissy as his wife (as per previously plotted by the three of them) and Steve grants it.

- Steve frees Eddie from his bondage, expecting Eddie to leave and never look back. He tries not to show how much that hurts.

- Eddie stays. Obviously.

- They go to bed with a bit of role reversal. Steve loves every second of it.

- Steve remains a bachelor king with a questionably close friendship with one of his advisors that the people of the kingdom knowingly smirk about but support because he’s an amazing king who always takes care of his people.

- Steve appoints his heir as this loudmouth whippersnapper with an attitude he takes under his wing for whatever reason. He questions his sanity every day after.

- Years later, King Dustin and Queen Suzie rule the land following in his predecessor’s footsteps; with care, humility, and equal justice for all.

~

(No pressure) Hostage Hotties: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump @honeii-puff @scoops-aboy86 @dotdot-wierdlife @everywherenothere

Other no pressure tags: @steddiecameraroll @mundaneone @endlessmusings1801 @stervrucht @hotluncheddie @eddiethebrave

[arainbowmess]

Giggling & kicking my legs because of them

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Eddie Munson's royal fuck-up

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 11

Prompt: Royalty AU

Rated: G

CW: none

Tags: Rockstar Eddie Munson; Royal Steve Harrington; Meet cute; Flirting; Secret Identity; Sort of angsty/open ending

"So, tommorow…" Chrissy says from behind the folder they've been provided. It looks so posh with its dark green binding, the royal sigil embossed on it in gold print. Eddie hates it. It probably thinks it's so much better than the other folders. "When you're introduced to Prince Steven, you're to address him as Your Royal Highness. After that, you call him Sir." 

"What, really? Dude, at least buy me dinner before we start with the kinky shit." 

Chrissy shoves his feet off the desk, which almost makes him topple off his chair. 

"Can you take this seriously? A royal visit is an important matter. We can certainly use the publicity-" 

Eddie's hand crashes down on the desk. "I'm a fucking rockstar, Chris. That ain't enough publicity? This place is my baby, mine. What does that royal asshole know about what it's like to have a rough childhood? He thinks he can come here, give a little speech, smile for the cameras, and suddenly it's all about him?" 

"What, now you care?" 

He whirls on her, but the look she gives him makes him freeze. Chrissy sighs. 

"Eds, you are so busy with the new album and the tour, you haven't even met the new volunteers. I said I'd manage the place, and that's fine. But you must trust me. Just do it for me. Please?" 

*

The skate park has new graffiti, and he hasn't even seen it yet. Eddie exhales his cigarette smoke and watches how it curls up to the sign spelling Hellfire Youth Center.

Maybe Chrissy is right. Maybe he should be here more. Maybe he's been so caught up in the whole fame and fortune thing, he's losing sight of what's important, like- 

"Watch out!" 

Like guys on skateboards barrelling towards him. 

Eddie throws up his hands. The guy tries to swerve, completely tips his precarious balance, and goes flying off the board and right into him. They land on the asphalt with an undignified oomph. 

"Shit, sorry," babbles the guy and tries to disentangle his limbs from Eddie’s. "Couldn't brake-" 

"S alright," Eddie hears himself say, even though his ass hurts like a bitch from the impact and he can already feel the bruises forming. "You can fall into my arms any time." 

Skateboard guy blinks up at him and - fuuuck, he's cute! In a scrungly, beanie-stuffed-over-chestnut-locks, black-rimmed-nerd-glasses kind of way. 

For a second, nobody says anything. 

"For fuck’s sake," someone swears, and then little Max Mayfield is running towards them, ginger braids jumping with the movement. "I told you to be careful." 

"Sorry," cutie with the glasses says again. Eddie has never seen him around. He must be one of the new volunteers Chrissy mentioned. "Guess I'll need to practice some mo- ow, shit!" 

His hands fly up to cradle his knee. There's a hole and a rapidly spreading bloodstain in the fabric of his jeans. 

"Oh fuck," Eddie says, and whips his bandana from his back pocket to press it to the wound. "Red, why don't you hop inside and get the first aid kit? I'll stay here with …" 

He trails off expectantly. Cutie's eyes go wide. 

"I, erm … Dustin." 

"I'll stay here with Dustin." 

*

Dustin, it turns out, isn't just cute, but also fun to talk to. He doesn’t gush about what a huge fan he is or ask for an autograph once. Eddie never thought he'd appreciate that one day, but it gets really old really quick. 

Instead, they jump from one topic to the next, sitting on one of the benches and watching Max go on her board. Dustin has a quick, sharp wit and isn't afraid to counter Eddie’s jabs with his own, delightfully bitchy sense of humor. Damn, to think he almost missed this one. He really needs to be around more.

"I love this place, y’know? You created something great for these kids." 

Eddie jerks to attention. The sun has started to dip, casting Dustin’s smile and the hair poking from his beanie in a soft golden light. 

"Thanks man," Eddie murmurs, and feels the bitterness boil back up. "Some people seem to think it needs better publicity, though." 

Dustin shuffles awkwardly, winces when the movement pulls on the Care Bears bandaids Max has plastered all over his knee. 

"You mean the royal visit?"

Eddie huffs. 

"Yeah, man. I mean, what are they expecting me to do, bow and grovel while his Royal Doucheness prances all over the place with his perfect hair and fancy suit and thank him for it? It's not like he cares about these kids, it's all just a gig to him."

Dustin draws his bottom lip between his teeth.

"You can't know that. Maybe he does care. Maybe he's-" 

Eddie barks a laugh. "Oh, give me a break. All the royals are good at is looking important and spending our tax money. I can fucking do without-" 

"Steve? We gotta leave, c'mon." 

They both whip around. A fancy black limousine with tinted windows has pulled up in the parking lot behind them. A gruff looking man is holding the back door open and looking at them expectantly. 

Dustin sighs and stands. 

"Coming, Hop." 

"Wait, wait, what?" Eddie babbles as he walks towards the car, shoulders in a sad little hunch. "What's going on? Who's that guy? Why's he calling you-" 

And then it clicks. 

"Oh fuck," Eddie says. 

Dustin … no, Steve … no, Steven - Crown Prince Steven fucking Harrington - gives him a tight smile while the man ushers him into the backseat. 

"Thank you for your time, Mr Munson, I'll see you tomorrow. I'll try not to be too much of a douchebag, I promise." 

The door clicks shut. 

The car glides away. 

Eddie buries his face in his palms. 

"Jesus fucking Christ. He's the fucking Prince."

Beside him, wheels grate on asphalt as Max brakes.

"Wow," she deadpans. "You're in some deep shit." 

Eddie groans. 

Tomorrow is gonna be a long-ass fucking day. 

Part 2

All my holiday drabbles

[missingthemantaray]

i love you, blurbs, i love you, one-shots, i love you, half-baked ideas, i love you, ramblings, i love you, headcanons, i love you, creations no matter how small, unfinished, unedited, unrefined, i love you, collaborative, brave, and beautiful writers, everything you offer is a gift no one should expect.

[your-stranger-halfblood-things]

When they're supposed to be working against each other, but they can't help making out in the progress...

[penny00dreadful]

My @steddiebang2024 fic is finally here! None of this would have been possible without the amazing support of my best cheerleader and best beta reader in existence, @hbyrde36 and the girlies constantly keeping me encouraged and cheerleading me on. On top of that, I had the absolute pleasure to be working with one of the most talented artists in this space and all around good bean and very sweet person, @arelliann. I literally screamed when I found out we would be working together for this Big Bang and continued to melt down at every single piece of art they sent me. Beautiful artwork and dividers by them. Go check them out and show them some love! Hope you enjoy this fic as much as I do. 🥰

Part 1

[Part 2] [AO3] [Art]

Down in the meadows, surrounded by fields of blooming flowers and bountiful crops as far as the eye could see, a lone figure on horseback cantered along.

He wove expertly through the rough and small roads and walkways, moving behind farmhouses and grain storage buildings, trying to stay out of sight of the gleaming white castle behind him.

The mid afternoon sun glared down from above, but not as stifling as it had been earlier on in the day. The sweet fragrance of thousands upon thousands of flowers wafted through the air from the Rainbow Sea, mixed up with the gentle rustling of the tree branches and the babbling of the river.

The figure had to duck down low toward his horse's neck to avoid taking a branch to the face as they came upon the riverbed, his gray palfrey barely being led, confident in her route.

Slipping expertly from his saddle, Crown Prince Steven Harrington glanced behind him, knowing well he couldn’t be seen from the castle in his hidden little refuge, but still, he checked every time.

It was a small little curve along the shore of the River Vita, blocked in by trees and shrubbery with enough grass and space for Bimmer to entertain herself while Steve stole however many hours he could, hiding away here.

The river itself wasn’t a terribly fast moving one but it was deceptively deep, a danger to anyone who didn’t know what they were doing. Luckily for Steve he’d been swimming in this river for as long as he had been able.

It might not have been the smartest thing in the world, sneaking out here alone to work off the stress of the day, stealing a moment alone, but he couldn’t help it. It was one of his most favored spots throughout the kingdom and it always helped him to relax his racing mind.

Steve was a strong swimmer, at least that’s how he justified it to himself. He was trained and careful and able.

Not that Robin or Hopper ever saw it that way. But he’d managed to slip away without either of them noticing and he would take the opportunity to swim whenever it was presented to him, though he didn’t think it would be long before his absence was realized.

Being the Crown Prince was full of benefits, but the downside was that he always seemed to be constantly needed, though that was mostly due to his own unique situation, rather than something the first born of other kingdoms had to deal with.

Steve’s father, King Robert wasn’t a cruel or uncaring man, but he was extremely uninterested in ruling.

He preferred the hedonistic and enjoyable parts of being a king. Celebrating, hunting, whoring, drinking.

However, dealing with the day to day? Meeting the people to hear their concerns, acting as an intermediary between warring guilds, overlooking the treasury, directing their surplus crop, trading the flowers, making sure their people were happy, provided for and treated well, organizing the guard...

King Robert didn’t have any time for it, and as such, his one and only child Steve had been shadow ruling the kingdom for as long as he could remember. Almost as soon as the king came to the realization that Steve could, he had set him to it.

It was all Steve had ever really known.

And he loved it. He really did.

This was his home, his kingdom, his responsibility. He wanted his people to be happy, he wanted to maintain the beauty of the Rainbow Sea, he wanted to carry on the Harrington legacy, he wanted to be good.

But sometimes… sometimes it was a lot.

It was a lot all the time, if he was being honest with himself, but he was comfortable with it.

This was what he had been raised for after all and in his short twenty four years, he’d become almost expert at it.

Steve didn’t think there was anything he wouldn’t do for the good of his kingdom.

Bimmer shook her head with a frustrated snort, bringing him back to the present where he had been standing, staring out over the River Vita with her reins in his hand.

“Sorry, girl.” He muttered, patting her muzzle and draping the reins over her neck. “Go on.”

She bumped his hand once and then wandered off to graze.

She was an expertly trained horse, strong and tall with a gleaming light grey coat, almost white in color to go with her bright mane and tail. She was beautiful and one of the many loves of his life.

He rarely needed to tie her off to stop her from wandering, she liked to keep watch over him while he swam.

Steve stripped himself bare, taking care to hang his carefully embroidered doublet and undershirt from a tree branch to keep them as clean as possible.

He didn’t want to give the staff in the laundry more work than necessary.

Most of his clothes had been expertly decorated with delicate flowers and climbing vines, occasionally even with some of the kingdom’s sweetest fruits. His clothes were beautiful and he took great care with them, not wanting the hours of work put into them to go to waste.

The cool breeze brushed against his skin and Steve sighed, feeling the stress of the day get washed away in the current of the river as he submerged himself completely, the shock of the cold enough to inject some energy back into him.

Steve took off, up and down the bank, swimming with and then against the gentle current until his muscles began to ache and tire and the sun had dipped a little lower, slowly bathing the clouds in soft pinks and oranges.

He was catching his breath, sculling along on his back, eyes closed, head tipped to the sun when he heard a throat clearing above him.

Steve was intimately familiar with that gruff and perpetually irked sound and he continued to float for a moment before peeking an eye open to look up at the figure towering above.

Captain Hopper glared down, his arms crossed over his leather clad chest, a deep frown on his face.

He raised an eyebrow at Steve’s complete shameless nudity and huffed, much in the same way Bimmer did when she wasn’t getting her way.

“You’re giving me gray hairs, kid.”

Steve grinned to himself, allowing his eye to slip closed again.

“You’ve been saying that for years, Hop.”

“You’ve been giving them to me for years, Harrington. The hell are you doing out here alone?”

Steve shrugged, the water sloshing around him.

“I’m fine.”

“But you might not have been.”

“I’m a strong swimmer.”

“Not stronger than mother nature. If your royal ass was to drown out here, then where would we be?”

Steve scoffed.

“I wasn’t going to drown, Hop. Don’t be so dramatic. And anyway, haven’t I taught you what to do in that kind of situation? Press on the chest, breathe into the mouth-”

“Steve.” Hopper sighed, closing his eyes as if praying for patience and Steve had to give in.

He knew Hopper was right, knew that it wasn’t exactly the safest thing to be doing, going outside the castle walls alone, to swim in a force of nature alone.

But… it was fine.

It wasn’t like anything exciting ever happened in his life. Things were calm, normalized. Day in, day out, Steve always knew what was coming and he was happy with it that way. He was happy with where he was right now.

“Get your clothes back on, kid. C’mon.”

Steve knew he had to, knew that he couldn’t hide away here forever, but he was feeling a little petulant. He shot Hopper the biggest pout he could muster.

“Five more minutes?”

“No.” Hopper growled at him. “You better be out of that water in the next ten seconds or I’ll take Bimmer back with me and make you walk.”

Steve straightened up in the water, with a performative squawk, shaking droplets from his lashes. He was still deep enough that the water flowed across his stomach, taking some power away from the effect of putting his hands on his hips.

“On my own two royal legs?” He exclaimed in mock outrage. “Hop, how could you? I demand my litter!” He slapped a hand against the water.

“I’ll litter you in a minute.” Hopper scowled. “I’ll bring you back in your very own casket if you keep pushing. Out. Now.”

Steve crossed his arms with a scowl of his own, really hamming it up with a comically furrowed brow but Hopper didn’t waver. Didn’t even crack a smile. So Steve sighed and waded back to the shore, stepping out without an inch of shame in his nakedness.

Hopper wasn’t phased in the least.

“Your nudity doesn’t scare me, Harrington.” Hopper said, leaning against a tree while Steve pulled his britches on over his legs. “Or have you forgotten that I was the one who had to try and catch you as a three year old when you decided you hated clothes and went on a run around the castle? Do you have any idea how irritating a naked, angry three year old is?”

Steve scrunched up his nose but still tried to not let too much of his embarrassment show.

Tugging his undershirt back on over his head, he scraped his wet hair back from his forehead and shrugged his doublet back on, not bothering to lace either of them up.

“Did you happen to notice my absence or did someone send for me?” He asked, tucking his shirt away into his pants.

“I fear Your Royal Highness has had a duty of today slip his mind.” Hopper answered, not cryptic at all, with a little glimmer in his eye.

Steve paused in his movements, trying to remember what he could have forgotten he had to do today.

He’d met with Merill and Eugene about their land dispute. He’d met with one of the Coin Keepers, Ted Wheeler about potentially taking on Erica Sinclair as an apprentice. He’d read the letters and memos sent to him from the various guilds. They’d finally figured out how to streamline their flower trade route through the River Road, what else could he possibly be forgetting-

It hit him all at once.

He let his head drop back with a loud groan.

“Yep.” Hopper sounded way too happy about it. Steve supposed this was some kind of justice for escaping away to swim today.

“Fuck.” Steve whispered.

“Steve you promised!” Dustin’s shrill voice echoed off the stone walls of the kitchens, cutting through the low din of the cooks and servers finishing up their work for the day and beginning to prep what they needed to for tomorrow.

By the time Steve had gotten back to the castle, evening had set in and Dustin was glaring up at him from a wooden table in the corner, his arms crossed and his foot tapping against the flagstone floor like an angry parent.

“I know, Dustin.” Steve sat down at the table as well but almost immediately had to lean out of the way as a kitchen maid was forced to reach across him to get to a stack of bowls piled up and needing to be washed.

Steve handed them over to her with a warm smile and she grinned back at him with a small, “Thank you, Steven.”

“I’m sorry.” He turned his attention back to Dustin. “Things started piling up today and I forgot.”

Dustin scoffed, sticking his nose in the air. “How can you expect to be a good king if you forget your people. Your promises?”

“Dusty!” Claudia exclaimed, hovering like she almost always was, in front of the large suspended cast iron pot, hanging over the constant burning hearth, stirring.

The rest of the kitchen staff reacted to Dustin with varying levels of shocked laughter or badly hidden snorts.

Joyce poked her head out of the walk-in pantry, just to swat Dustin lightly over the head with a rag. “Show some respect!”

“Yeah, Dusty.” Steve gave his shin a gentle kick. “Show some respect.”

Dustin grumbled to himself, something that sounded distinctly like show you some respect before slamming both hands down on the table. “Lucas gets to ride all the time!”

“Lucas is Captain Hopper’s squire. It’s pretty much his job description. It’s different.”

“And he’s learned how to hunt and shoot and bow and he’s not even using a training sword anymore! Hopper’s got him practicing with a blunt metal one now!” Dustin threw his hands into the air, nearly swatting a kitchen boy a year or two older than him in the arm, but the boy seemed so used to it, he just expertly weaved around the flying gesticulations with barely a glance. “I could be a squire.”

“It all sounds very fanciful, Dusty.” Steve leaned his elbow on the table. “But are you forgetting all the other things Lucas had to do to get to where he is? Yes, he gets to ride all the time, but he’s also up at dawn, shovelling shit from the stables. Yes, he’s learned his way around a sword and bow but don’t you remember all the cuts and bruises he was walking around with? Or this time last year when he couldn’t train for two months after he broke his collarbone on his good side after getting thrown from his horse?”

“I wouldn’t have that issue! I don’t even have collarbones!”

“And,” Steve pressed forward, “Lucas doesn’t have time for much else besides those things. He doesn’t get to harass the librarian for hours on end with constant questions.”

Dustin glared at him from across the table. “I’m not harassing Mr. Clarke. He loves my questions.”

“If you were to be in Lucas’ position, you couldn’t do that. You couldn’t study the natural sciences and alchemy like you love to. In addition to that, Lucas has been in training since he was six years old. You’d have a lot of catching up to do.”

Dustin slumped back in his chair, arms crossed again and a frown on his face. He looked disappointed if not a little upset and it just about broke Steve’s heart.

Fuck, he was too soft with these kids.

“I promise, Dusty. First thing tomorrow morning, I’ll take you out riding, okay?”

He’d have to shift his schedule around a little. He usually went through his correspondence with the further villages and towns of the kingdom in the mornings, but he could put them off for an hour or two.

“Can I ride Bimmer?” Dustin asked, almost immediately perking up.

Steve shrugged. “I don’t know. You’d have to ask her. But if she’s okay with it, then I am.”

“She’s a horse, Steve.”

“So? Doesn’t mean she has to put up with a little shit-head with no collarbones if she doesn’t want to.”

“But- okay. If she does let me, then I can? I can ride your horse?” There was such a hopeful glint in Dustin’s eye. Steve was powerless to deny him.

He heaved a put upon sigh and hands on his hips, “Yes, okay. But only around the perimeter!” He shouted the last part after Dustin who had shot up from his seat with a whoop and burst out of the room.

“Mike! He’s gonna let me ride Bimmer!”

Mike had only just come in from the gardens, arms full of herbs which were dropped to the floor with an angry squawk, beginning an argument because Steve never let him ride Bimmer.

Claudia giggled to herself as Steve slumped back in his chair.

“You give in too easily, dear.” She said over her shoulder to him.

He leaned his cheek into his fist. “You know what he’s like.”

Claudia smiled again, tuning back to the pot.

Steve was just about to open his mouth to offer some help when there was a great clatter on the stone steps leading up from the kitchen.

Robin nearly ran into the wall, her face was flushed from exertion, one pant leg was untucked from a boot which was coming unlaced and her undershirt was half hanging out of her still beautiful but not quite as lavishly embroidered waistcoat.

She’d caught herself against the archway, her wild eyes scanning the room before Steve felt them land on him.

“Oh shit.” He breathed, springing from his chair in the next second and making a break for it through the kitchen.

“You!” Robin screeched, footsteps pounding after him while the staff scampered,  like they were jumping out of the road to escape a wayward horse and cart. “Get your fucking ass back here, Harrington!”

“I didn’t do anything!”

Steve burst through the door leading out into the herb garden, Robin hot on his heels. He didn’t know why he’d chosen the damn herb garden to escape to, it was enclosed.

He literally had nowhere to run.

“You call trying to drown yourself in the river not doing anything?” She shouted, swinging a gardening glove she’d picked up at him as she slowly stalked closer while Steve was backed up against an impenetrable stone wall.

“I wasn’t going to drown, Buckley.” He snapped back, trying to catch the glove in his own hand as she swatted at whatever part of him she could reach. “I’m a strong swimmer!”

“Stronger than the river, Steven?” She was able to pop him over the head and he finally managed to catch her wrist and wrench the glove from her grip, swatting her back.

“Get off my ass, adviser. I’m fine aren’t I? Forgive me for needing a moment to myself.”

Robin was trying and failing to bat his hands away.

“You can have as many moments to yourself as you’d like, Your Highness, but not on a dangerous river when no one knows where you are!”

Steve whapped her on the arm and in retaliation she levelled several slaps against his chest.

“The river’s not that dangerous!”

“You wouldn’t even be the first monarch to drown in that river!”

“I didn’t fucking drown!”

“Yet!”

“Is that a threat?”

“You’re damn right it is! I will drown you myself next time, I swear on your stupid hair-”

“Hey! Don’t call my hair stupid, your face is stupid.”

“Ugh!” The sound came out of Robin like some kind of cross in between a scream and a groan. “I can’t believe this is the thanks I get for my years of service!”

“Service, my left nut. You’re a pain in my ass, Buckley.”

Steve still had the glove clasped in his hand, though it was down at his side now and Robin had stuck her hands on her hips, the two of them glaring.

“You’d perish without me.” She sniffed, looking down her nose at him.

“Whatever.”

Robin pursed her lips, tapping one finger against her hip.

“Did you enjoy yourself, at least?”

Steve grinned, swatting her lightly one last time over the shoulder.

“Yeah.”

“You said first thing tomorrow morning, Steve!”

Steve stuffed his goose feather pillow over his head, trying to block out the pinks of the early morning sky invading his room.

The light was barely there, the sun hadn’t fully risen yet, but it was still reflected around the room. The brightness of Steve’s lime-washed and plastered walls seeming intent on keeping him awake, the delicate paintwork of climbing vines and florals doing nothing to dull the glare since Dustin had thrown open the curtains.

“I didn’t mean the ass-crack of dawn, shit-head!”

“You’re up now aren’t you?”

Turning his head a little, Steve peeked an eye open to glare at him.

“I shouldn’t be.”

“Not all of us are royalty who get to sleep in.” Dustin snarked back with his arms crossed.

“Sucks for you because I am royalty who gets to sleep in. Now if you don’t fuck off and come back at a more reasonable hour, I’m telling your mother what happened to her good copper pot.”

Dusting scowled back just as hard before turning on his heel and stomping out.

“Fine, asshole!”

“And close my curtains!” Steve shouted after him, but Dustin had already slammed his bedroom door closed again.

He was still yawning and grumbling to himself as Dustin dragged him by the arm down to the stables. What he wouldn’t give for some kind of injection of energy, some way to wake himself up. He prayed for the day something like that was discovered. Maybe he could talk to the castle herbalist about it. Argyle always had something strange cooking.

Steve squinted against the glaring sunlight, slumping when Dustin finally let go of his arm to shoot off into the stables on his own, shouting at Steve to keep up.

Fuck, how did the kid have so much damn energy?

When Steve finally made his way inside, his senses assaulted with the smell of wood, leather, hay and horse, Dustin was standing in front of Bimmer’s stall, blinking up at her with wide nervous eyes.

“She’s bigger than I thought she was.” He muttered. “I’ve only ever seen her at a distance.”

Steve placed a hand down on Dustin’s head, using the other to pet over Bimmer’s muzzle.

“She’s very gentle. But you don’t have to ride her if you don’t want to. I could take you out on a smaller-”

“No.” Dustin turned to look up at him. “I said I would, so. I will.”

It took a little bit, getting Bimmer to respond positively to Dustin after she had reflected his nervousness initially, but soon enough he was comfortably in the saddle, practically vibrating with excitement. Steve stuck close by, astride Thunder, a jet black stallion prone to wandering but easy enough to pull back.

Dustin’s smile only grew wider as they went on a slow trot around the curtain walls and before long he was in top form, spewing about the latest things he’d learned whenever they passed something that caught his interest.

“Hey Steve, did you know that Mothers Bounty used to spit liquid fire and ash?” Dustin said, pointing over at the lone flat topped extinct volcano that always loomed in the background. “It’s where our pumice stone comes from and the reason we can grow so much here.”

“Yes, Dustin, I did know that.”

“Hey Steve, did you know that Queen Vita drowned in the River Vita,” The river itself babbled up at them. “Isn’t that crazy?”

“That’s a rumour.”

“Hey Steve, did you know that the people of the Abyssal Forest use needles and ink to mark their skin?”

Steve blinked rapidly over in Dustin’s direction while a soft breeze blew through the trees next to them.

“They do what?” He asked, trying not to think too hard about sticking needles into his skin. Willingly.

“Yeah!” Dustin turned to him with the brightest smile. “They have to get the needle in quite deep for the ink to stick, but if they do, their designs can stay there forever! Isn’t that so cool?”

Steve had to repress a shudder. “Yeah, man. Sounds… so cool.”

They continued to ride on in silence for another moment and Steve would have found it peaceful if he didn’t think that Dustin suddenly falling silent after spitting out endless facts was very strange. He was fidgeting ever so slightly with Bimmer’s reigns, like he was trying to build up to something.

“So. El and I have been talking.”

Well, that was never a good start.

Steve just hummed in agreement, waiting for Dustin to continue, reaching up to pluck a leaf from an overhanging branch as they slowly made their way back to the stables.

“She’s hit a blockade on her studies of the Rainbow Sea. You know how she’s been trying to figure out how to grow the Nightbloom?”

“Absolutely not.” Steve didn’t quite snap, but it was a close thing.

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“You’re gonna ask me to take you and El on an expedition to the Abyssal Forest so El can talk to the people who live there about her flower and so you can harass them about their inked skin-”

“But, Steve! The Nightbloom doesn’t grow anywhere else and no one else I have read about inks their skin-!”

“Over my dead body, Dusty-Buns. There’s a reason their community is so closed off. That forest is dangerous to those who don’t know how to traverse it. Most who try end up lost forever. You think I’m gonna lead both you and El to certain death just for a flower and some ink?”

“Steve-!”

“Dustin.” Steve pulled Thunder a round to a stop in front of Bimmer. “I’ve said no. You’re just going to have to find some more books about it. It’s not happening.” He stared him dead in the eye. “Have I made myself clear?”

Dustin scowled at him, and the rest of the ride back to the stables was frosty but Steve wouldn’t budge.

Dustin could sulk and complain and be as upset as he liked, but Steve was not going to lose him or El in a dark and endless forest just because he wanted to meet some inky people and find out how to grow a flower.

In his haste to get off Bimmer once the stable hand had taken her reins, Dustin’s foot slipped from her stirrup and he fell hard onto one knee.

Steve threw himself from his own horse, swinging down in less than a second but Dustin had already sprang back up, brushing past him with a muttered “I’m fine.”

Steve stared after him, not knowing whether he should feel hurt or indignant. He only wanted what was best for the kids and he understood Dustin’s disappointment at not getting to go on some kind of stupidly dangerous mission but at the same time, did he really expect Steve to put all their lives at risk for no reason?

“Shit, what happened?”

Steve turned to find Robin walking through the stable doors, coming from the direction Dustin had just left in.

“We had a disagreement.” Steve sighed, hands on his hips. “He wanted me to take him and El into the Abyssal Forest.”

Robin’s eyes widened. “What the hell for? Is he trying to get you all killed? And no offense to the kid, but your death might not be the best thing for the future of this kingdom.”

He snorted, a little deprecatingly. “I know, right? Someone should have told my parents to have another kid. Would help to take the pressure off.”

Robin gave a little nod, sucking her lips into her teeth. “Speaking of pressure…”

“I know, I know.” Steve shook his head, giving Bimmer a pat and nodding at the stable hand who was corralling the two horses back into their stalls. “I’m going up to my study now to start on my correspondence so there’s no need to bully me.”

He grinned at her but it slipped from his face almost immediately when she didn’t follow suit, just continued to bite her lip.

“What is it?”

Robin took a deep breath in, like she was bolstering herself.

“Your parents have requested an audience with you.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline.

“What for?”

“I don’t know. They wouldn’t tell me.” She shrugged, trying to hide the worry in her eyes, but she was never able to fully hide from him.

The fact that they hadn’t shared what they wanted to talk to him about was not a good sign.

“Well.” Steve put his hands back on his hips. “Fuck.”

Robin nodded.

[Part 2] [AO3] [Art]

This fic will be updated daily! 🥰

[arelliann]

Piece two for ‘Royal Pain’ @penny00dreadful’s incredible @steddiebang2024 fic - read the new chapter an a03

The enemies to lovers is really heating up over here, get it while it’s still hot!

[theshippirate22]

I have a theory

listen up bitches (gender neutral) (affectionate) i’ve been cooking this for an incredibly long time and i’m very very excited to share it but it is gonna be long so i’m putting it under a cut

my theory is that there has been a new set of archetypes created by popular m/m media either in canon or coding and i would love if it was more widely recognized by a distinct name so here we go:

I present to you: The Mirrorball x Running Up That Hill Boyfriends™️ Theory

i need to preface this by saying that i am absolutely not an english major or expert but i have done so much analysis that i’m 98% positive i’m on to something here

so usually mlm ships- at least in my experience- get boiled down into typical Grumpy x Sunshine, Golden Retriever x Black Cat, or like. Babygirl x Badass. and i hate that because those are like really watered down hetero romance stereotypes and i think queer people deserve to get our own archetypes instead of trying to force queer characters into prepaid boxes but that’s a story for another day so:

basically, all content with widely accepted mlm ships (even if they are more in coding than in canon) has this pattern with the ship that fits into Mirrorball x Running Up That Hill

(name pending- open to suggestions)

Boyfriend No.1 of course is the epitome of Mirrorball by Taylor Swift (i know, i know. bear with me here). He’s constantly trying to prove himself and his worth and usually he’s driven to hide or overcome 1-3 specific and intense insecurities/character flaws. He often has innate loyalty to a system or person who has repeatedly abused/neglected/abandoned him and thinks that this treatment is a result of his own character rather than a reflection of the abuser. In relation to the plot and audience, this is the “more dangerous” of the two because he’s so desperate to hold onto the status quo that he’ll often act in a way that makes things more difficult for himself, often by leaving Boyfriend No. 2, sacrificing himself, or doing “the wrong thing.” He also commonly has an older male figure that is breathing down his neck constantly, haunting his perceived inadequacies, and fueling his self-loathing. He’s constantly mischaracterized because he’s either boiled down to “the silly one” or a visage of his trauma and the people that relate to love these characters are usually extremely sad people. Usually this character is also the “mean girl” of the couple.

Examples of the Mirrorball boyfriend: Dean Winchester, Aziraphale, Stede Bonnet, Lucius Spriggs, Sherlock Holmes, Eddie Munson, Mike Wheeler, Prince Rupert, etc.

Boyfriend No. 2 then, is the Running Up That Hill Boyfriend, based of course, on the song by the same name by the perfect Kate Bush. He’s the one that’s seen The Horrors™️ and gained a layer of cynicism that Mirrorball doesn’t have. He was once loyal to something that used/hurt him but he rejected it and used his newfound freedom to restructure his entire personality and reach his much higher potential. Usually, he has passed so far from having a few insecurities to perceiving himself as utterly worthless and unlovable but he’s so convinced that it doesn’t even haunt him, he just goes with it and usually comes off looking overly-confident or cocky. This is The Bitch (affectionate)™️. There’s probably a scene of him covered in blood. This is The Girls’ favorite blorbo and ultimate whump. He tends to be really good with kids and he’s the kind of character that would and often has to CLAW a life out for himself by his fingernails.

Examples of the Running Up That Hill Boyfriend: Castiel, Crowley, Ed Teach, Black Pete, John Watson, Steve Harrington, Will Byers, Prince Amir, etc.

unfortunately i haven’t seen a lot of popular queer stuff so if you can think of other mlm or mlm shaped characters that fit into these archetypes please please please tell me

i’m specifically curious about:

-Hannigram (Hannibal)

-Buddy (911) (@criminally-obsessed if you would mind weighing in but obviously no pressure)

-Lokius (Loki) (@henderdads same thing)

-Any of the marauders but specifically WolfStar

-Stucky (MCU)

-RWRB (i’m so sorry i don’t remember the guys’ names)

-Nick and Charlie (Heartstopper)

-What We Do In the Shadows has one I think?

-literally anyone else please and thank you 🙏🙏 love you all

if you want like explicit examples of each piece for a character lmk for sure because i could talk about this all day long

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Eddie: *stands on a table* I am mean and scary. Fear me! *hisses*

Steve and Chrissy: Aww!

Chrissy: It's always the little guys.

Eddie: Look, just because I like to be the little spoon. . .Jesus H Christ! I'm trying to be a very scary vampire here!

Steve: You're very scary.

Eddie: *cursing* Once I figure out how to turn back from being a bat, you're all going to be afraid of me. Just you watch.

He proceeded to fly and crawl into Steve’s hair.

Steve: Why is it always my hair?

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

light hair bf x dark hair bf ships are always s-tier

[stoppingoftheheart]

OTPs are like drugs, and im addicted to several of them