#they're far too old for anything and everything to do with dates and dating

[lovebugism]

oh my god absolutely feral for the cynical prompt list PLEASE!!! maybe like bad at feelings/grumpy!r x steve with these vibes?:

• "you.. LIKE ME???" "i'm a little wary but so far, yes."

• "you're my favorite person. i didn't know you could have those."

• i love the idea that although they're cynical they would simultaneously not care to admit it ^ like "okay, yeah, i fell in love. so what???? people fall in puddles, and pools, and you know, other things!!! don't hold this against me!"

or literally anything from that list like i just know you’d eat

hope you like it angel xoxo — you tell steve you love him for the first time in front of all your friends who didn't even know you were dating (grumpy!r, fluff, 1.3k)

Eddie drops off a few Hellfire stragglers at Family Video after a lengthy campaign, you among them. Robin watches you file in with a freckled chin nestled in her palm. “Stevie! Your children are here!” she singsongs in the otherwise empty store, flipping unenthusiastically through an old magazine.

Dustin and Lucas grumble under their breaths about being called children, though you think they’re still very much deserving of the term. Eddie, meanwhile, crosses his leather-clad arms over his chest. “You know I’m older than him, right?” he monotones with squinted eyes. “So that’s, like, scientifically impossible.”

You deadpan from beside him, somehow more stoic than the raucously dressed metalhead. “And also, I’m dating him,” you frown. “So that’d be, like, extra weird.”

Everyone looks at you like you’ve grown two heads, then. Like you’ve just said something awful. 

Steve’s presence saves you, but only for a moment. He comes out from the back wearing a stupid grin on his scruffy face. “Hey, babe,” he greets you first, with a wide hand spread warmly over your back. 

When he ducks down for a fleeting kiss, you can taste the Cheetos he’d been snacking on and the wintergreen gum he’d just plucked into his mouth. The concoction is strange. Maddening, still.

All of your friends leer at you for several long moments. They gape at the two of you in horror, as though there was some kind of truth in what Robin had just announced moments ago — as though you and Steve shouldn’t be kissing at all.

“Wait,” Lucas mumbles, filling the heavy silence. His face twists in confusion a second later. “What?”

Eddie’s pale face contorts in something short offense, like you’ve betrayed him somehow. You sort of did, in a way. You’re Hellfire’s prettiest, grumpiest, weirdest member — you’re not supposed to be dating Steve The Hair Harrington. It goes against, like, every unwritten rule in the handbook. 

“Is this why you wanted me to drop you off here?” he questions, palpably heartbroken. “So you two could— suck face?”

You shrug, emotionless. “Sorta.”

“We have a date tonight,” Steve announces with a proud smile. He squeezes gently at your shoulder, then cowers at the glare you give him. He clears his throat and corrects himself. “Not date.”

You’ve noticed his very strange tendency to call any time you spend together a date. You don’t like that. It makes you feel it’s some kind of appointment you have to book with him — an engagement you have to put too much effort into. Sometimes, you don’t want to go on a date. You just want to sleep over at his place, steal one of his shirts, and raid his kitchen in your underwear. 

Eddie does everything but pout. “But I thought… I thought we came here to bother Steve until he let us take something home for free?” he confesses in a quiet voice.

“We can still do that if you want.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same,” he frowns.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Robin shouts, abandoning her magazine and waving her hands in front of her face. “How did I not know about this?”

Steve bounces his shoulder, jostling the nametag pinned to his chest. “You don’t know everything about me, Buckley,” he sasses.

“So… you like him?” she presses, pointing to you and then the boy beside you. “You like Steve? Steve Harrington?”

You swallow hard and hope you don’t look as anxious as you feel. You shrug to feign an air of nonchalance. “I’m still a little wary about it, but, yeah… So far, anyway.”

Dustin’s senses return to him, then. He shakes his curly head in disbelief. “That is just… confounding,” he mumbles to himself.

“And how long has this been going on, exactly?” Robin squints.

“Couple months, I guess,” you monotone.

Steve has a much different, much more enthusiastic answer. 

“Well, if we’re going by the first time I knew she liked me, it’s been five months. But if we’re going by the first time we kissed, it’s been four,” he rambles with his honey eyes flitted to the ceiling. “But if we’re going by the first time she actually admitted she liked me, it’s been… A wonderful six days.”

He flashes you a grin, which you meet with a hardened scowl. “Shut up…” you grumble, but don’t push him away when he cuddles you closer to his side.

“You? And Steve Harrington?” Eddie gapes. “You’re kissing?”

Steve scoffs. “Well, we’re dating Munson. So obviously we’re kissing. Among other things…”

You dig an elbow into his ribs to shove him away. “Do you have a death wish?” you spit, eyes narrowed and bitter, while the boy just chuckles to himself.

“It’s just… weird,” Dustin remarks.

“But, like, a good weird,” Lucas nods. “Like a solar eclipse, sort of weird.”

“Or, like, that one in a billion chance of atoms aligning and your hand going directly through a solid object, sort of weird,” the curly-haired boy adds, punctuating his sentence by slapping the front counter. His palm collides with the hard surface with a resounding thud.

“What did you think was gonna happen?” Steve monotones when Dustin winces.

“Well, impossible things happen all the time, Steve. Including now.”

You start to choke on the attention. The stares are borderline suffocating. A bunch of wide-eyed gazes holding yours until you feel like you can hardly breathe. 

“What’s the big deal?” you blurt before you mean to. “We fell in love. Who cares? Dustin fell into a puddle earlier today— how’s that any different? People fall all the time.”

Dustin’s eyes narrow. “I thought we agreed not to bring that up.”

“Wait…” Steve mumbles, pink lips quirked in a crooked smile. His chocolate gaze glimmers with hope and confusion, eyes darting back and forth between yours. “You’re… You’re in love with me?”

“Yeah?” you shrug, trying not to cower at the way he looks at you. “So what?”

His grin widens. It takes everything in him not to kiss the life out of you then. He settles for a warm squeeze at your shoulder for now. “Nothing. Nothing, I just— I love you back. That’s all.”

The honeyed moment is ended bitterly by the sound of Eddie’s fake gagging. Robin gripes beneath the horrid noise, “You guys are gross…”

Lucas smiles. “I think it’s sweet.”

“Only ‘cause you’re more lovesick than these two idiots,” Eddie scoffs. He saunters away from you and takes the two Hellfire boys by the shoulder, leading them inevitably to the Sci-Fi section. Robin has no choice but to fix her frowning face and smile when a customer walks in.

With the crowd freshly dispersed, and the attention no longer on the two of you, you look up at Steve with a softer look than you’re used to. “Why did you look so shocked?” you murmur, eyes all squishy around the edges. “When I told you that I— that I loved you or whatever.”

“I wasn’t shocked,” Steve laughs and turns to face you fully. “I just… wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”

You squint. “So you were shocked?”

“…I guess so. Yeah.”

“Well— you’re like— my favorite person or whatever,” you stumble over your words, finding it suddenly very difficult to meet his gaze. You gesture wildly with anxious hands. “And I didn’t even know you could have one of those, so… By that logic, I figured I must be in love with you.”

Steve grins, maybe bigger than he realizes. It’s all plush and pink and petaled, dripping with an adoration you’re not sure you deserve. “Well, by that logic, I must be in love with you, too, then, huh?”

“Guess so…” you grumble under your breath.

Steve smiles at the distant look of disgust scrunching your pretty face. “You’re so cute…” he mumbles under his breath, pressing a kiss to your pout before you can blink.

[soleminisanction]

I think my least favorite internet criticism of Meghan Fitzmartin is the idea that she "just wanted to push her ship," meaning Tim/Bernard. Because honestly? I think that's straight-up bullshit.

Having read the Urban Legends stories, the Pride Special reprint, Tim Drake: Robin and Young Justice Dark Crisis, plus what interviews and social media she's been doing as these comics came out, there is zero evidence to me to back that statement up. If that were true, the Urban Legends stories probably would've been more about bringing Bernard back and re-establishing him as a character. Y'know, building up their relationship.

But it wasn't about their relationship. It was about Tim and his feelings, his internal conflict, what he needed. That's what Fitzmartin even said in the interviews after, that she, "felt like this was something Tim needed." And that's true going into TD:R too -- yeah, Bernard is there and their relationship is a prominent subplot, but he gets about as much page time as Darcy and Detective Williams, and the focus is always on Tim's ongoing story and his developing relationships with all the people around him.

That's why I like that they went with Bernard as his "closet key." Not because I'm super devoted to the pairing or anything -- I truly could take or leave the arrangement -- but because they're tolerably cute together and, more importantly, dating a civilian supporting character comes with far less baggage than establishing a relationship with a fellow hero. By their very nature, superhero stories are more heavily weighted towards the hero characters than their civilian support, that's just a fact, and, with rare exception, civilian love interests tend to act more as sounding boards to develop and reflect the leads. Making Tim's first boyfriend an old civilian friend means the story could be about Tim's personal character growth, internal conflict, and explorations of his sexuality.

I genuinely think that's the only reason Fitzmartin went with Bernard. She only had around 30 pages to tell that Urban Legends story (and I guarantee you, she was assigned that page count before writing), so bringing back a previous civilian friend meant she didn't have to try to establish a whole new relationship on top of introducing a villain faction and telling a superhero-based investigation story. And for whatever reason, Bernard was the most popular of Tim's civilian buddies to rare-pair him with before this all happened. (Just check AO3: Prior to the release of the Urban Legends stories, Tim/Bernard had ~42 fics, Sebastian Ives got 4, and Danny Temple had 1.)

When Meghan Fitzmartin says that she went back, read Tim's old stories, and felt he needed to come out of the closet, I believe her. And I'm happy she felt that way and was allowed to act on those feelings because it's something I felt too, reading those stories. Those feelings that had nothing to do with "ships" or even with characters like Kon or Dick and everything to do with Tim and who he is as a person.

To sweep all that away as "she just wants to push her preferred ship" just feels so... dismissive and rude.

[cosyvelvetorchid]

From a prompt sent by @titanlord231 ❤️

********

Buck stood leaning against the kitchen door frame just watching Tommy. He did that a lot. Two years they had been together and not a day went by where Buck didn't look at him with awe; still not quite totally believing that Thomas Kinard - the hero firefighter pilot who flew in to a hurricane on a whim - was his.

"Would you like me to do a little dance for you?" Tommy asked not looking at him.

"I mean, kinda." He replied and Tommy laughed. He finished plating up their breakfast and placed rbe plates on the table.

"Happy anniversary, baby." He leaned forward pressing his lips onto Bucks.

"Happy anniversary."

"So, are you going to tell me yet where we're going tonight?" Tommy asked. Buck shook his head.

"Nope." He grinned.

"You're such a tease"

"Yep."

"So can I know anything?' Tommy asked. Tommy had been not a huge fan of surprises. Mostly because his experience of surpises growing up were never good ones. But he'd learned that Evan only ever surpised him in the loveliest ways.

Like when he sometimes brings him breakfast in bed, which nobody had done for him before. Or before he moved in and Tommy got the flu, Evan cooked a whole weeks worth of meals for him, and put them in his freezer while he was asleep (Tommy kept the note he'd written that he left next to him). Or last year for his birthday when Evan had got in contact with some of his old army buddies, who showed up at the bar they were at as a surpise.

"Just wear something nice."

****

Buck lead Tommy down the street, his hand grasping Tommy's tightly.

"C'mon not even a hint if where we're going?" Tommy asked impatiently.

"No need - were here." Buck pointed across the street to the pizzeria.

"Our first date?" Tommy smiled

"I've been promising to take you back so we can redo it so I figured why not on our anniversary." Buck beamed at him and Tommys heart squeezed itself harder in his chest. He was inclined to argue and tell him there was no need to redo it, but Evan wanted to do it. Besides the look of excitement on his face was enough to shut Tommy up.

They spent the next two hours eating and talking and laughing. Unlike their first date there was no nerves, no awkwardness or humiliation. When they weren't needing their hands to eat they were attached across the table.

"Thank you, baby." Tommy pulled Evan to him for a kiss as they left the restaurant. He pushed further into Evans lips eliciting a quiet moan from both of them. He pulled away and rested his forhead on Evans.

"How about we finish this date off at home?" His voice was low and breathy. Buck knew what that meant. But there was one more thing he wanted to do first.

"Actually there's somewhere else we have to go first." He excitedly told him.

"Evan, you didn't have to do all this for me." Tommy said softly.

"I know. I wanted to. Its not far, don't worry. Then you can take me home for dessert." Tommy felt his pulse in his groin at Evans words.

"I'm going to hold you to that." He said as Evan took his hand and walked them back to the car.

Ten minutes driving and they pulled up. Buck got out and walked toward the building.

"Do you remember this place?" He asked.

"Yeah. We had coffee here. You asked me to your sisters wedding."

"Well, on the theme of recreating our first date I thought why not recreate this one too." Buck explaind. Tommy was confused.

"Evan, its 10:30pm at night - they're closed."

"Are they?" He asked, hand reaching out to knock on the glass door with his knuckle. A man in his 50s walked towards the door to unlock it.

"Hey Buck."

"Hey Tony. This is my boyfriend Tommy. Tommy this is Tony - he owns the place. He's agreed to open up just for the evening for us. Come on." He lead Tommy through the café and outside to the table that they had sat on. There were twinkling lights hanging all around giving everything a soft warm glow.

A minute after they sat down Tony came out and took their coffee order.

"Hopefully this time you'll like the coffee I bought you." Buck smiled

"I can't even remember what it was you got me, I just remember it was bad." He said and they both laughed.

"So tell the truth - how did you really feel when I invited you to my sisters wedding? Buck asked.

"Surpised honestly. Being a date to someone for a wedding is a big deal anyway but the fact it was going to be your family was even bigger a deal."

"Were you tempted to say no?"

"No. " He stated clearly. "I wanted to go with you but I needed to know that you knew how big a deal it was. I've since come to realise you like to jump I'm with both feet first regardless." He smiled. He loved that about Evan; his determination and passion to go for what he wants.

"I'm happy you did." He placed his hand on to Tommys mimicking their date 2 years ago. Tommy reciprocated.

"Me too." Tommy replied, with that famous crinkly-eyed smile that Buck couldn't get enough of.

"Speaking of weddings there's another one I wanted to invite you too." Buck admitted.

"Yeah? Who's getting married?"

Buck took a second to breath before standing up, reaching for the little box in his back pocket then taking a knee.

"Us."

"Evan.." Tommy's mouth was open as he looked down at Evan holding a little black Black velvet box with a black tungsten band inside.

"Tommy, my whole life I felt like there was something missing. No matter how hard i searched for it, I never found it; convinced I wouldn't. And then you flew us into a hurricane and.. and though my body came home I feel like my soul is still in there in the middle of it with you." His emotions rose up and tears began to fall slowly down his cheeks. "You have made my life infinitely better than I ever thought was possible. I love you so much and want to spend the rest of my life making you happy. Will you marry me? "

Tommy could hardly believe what was happening. His sweet, kind, gorgeous boyfriend wants to marry him. He never thought in a million years he would ever be in this place where the love of his life would be down on knee proposing. There was just one small issue though..

Tommy stood from his seat and a giant tsunami rushed over Bucks bones . For a moment he thought he was leaving. Instead, Tommy gave Evan the biggest surpise of his life by kneeling in front of him, reaching for something in his inside jacket pocket. He pulled out a black leather box and opened it revealing a tarnished silver band.

"Evan, I spent my entire life in fear. Fear of who I am, of who I wanted to be. Fear of being accepted. Always holding myself back because I was so scared of getting hurt again. And then you got into my chopper and suddenly everything changed." Tommy was now the one getting emotional, with his chin wobbling, tears rolling down his cheeks. "You taught me what love is. What kindness and support is. You made me feel like I didn't have to be scared anymore. And that even if I ever am, that ill have you to hold my hand through it. I love you more than I ever thought it possible to love another person. Evan, will you marry me?

Buck sniffed and wiped tears from his cheeks.

"I asked you first." He laughed.

"Of course I will marry you." Tommy answered with a smile so big Buck thought he'd never seen it before.

"Yes I'll marry you." He finally answered.

Tommy reached a hand forward grabbing Evans neck and pulling him into a deep kiss. A kiss that tasted of a wonderful future with the man he loved.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 90 (Under Pressure)

cw: a bit of coarse language from River, it's just his voice.

Light snow fell over Sable Square on this sunny winter morning, and Conrad tensed his shoulders as he opened the front door. But his best friend and future brother-in-law stood before him, and Conrad relaxed as he stepped out to greet him.

"Hey Riv. What are you doing here? We're gonna be in Henford in two days."

"I'm off for a few weeks with Cass and baby Sammy, but I wanted to talk when we weren't surrounded by family," River said. "Everyone's kinda worried about you, you know."

"Everything's fine. Work's just a little stressful right now."

"Yeah? Those security cameras are pretty intense. You've got that restraining order, and Hazel said you guys brought home a ghost from your date last night...?"

"He's not a ghost anym- Is there anything your family doesn't talk about with each other?"

"Not really, but you knew that already. Are my sister and her kids in some kind of danger?"

Conrad shook his head stiffly. "No."

River studied him. "That's good, because you know if you put a Landgraab in danger, that old bitch who hates my sister will probably have you killed."

He laughed a little but wasn't kidding, and Conrad shifted uncomfortably. "I've got to get to work soon, but come on in for a few minutes."

River followed him inside and greeted Gord with a smile. "You're also about to miss the deadline for our fantasy sportsball league."

"I completely forgot that was this week. I'm sorry. Maybe I should skip it this time around. My head's kind of jammed lately. I haven't even kept up on offseason trades."

"Dude, you're not okay at all. You're the first one in every season..."

"Riv, I just have a lot going on." He tried, but failed, to bottle his frustration with himself, but his reply came out terse and unwelcoming. If everyone could see his stress, he wasn't managing his secrets, but he didn't mean to take it out on River. "Sorry."

"It's alright...I brought the number for that ring designer you asked for, too." He paused, and Conrad didn't fill the silence. "You should go see Cass' mom. Every time she calls, she says how stressed you are. Cass thinks she talks like you're one of her kids, but that's Bella Goth for you - everyone's family to her. Besides, you and my sister have gotten into some real Goth-flavoured shit the last couple years, so it's no wonder she's started thinking of you like family."

Conrad laughed, trying to lighten the mood. "Maybe it's just a Brindleton Bay thing for everyone in town to pick up strays. How are you doing? How's Michael adjusting to having a new baby at home?"

"Michael loves Sammy, but he doesn't understand why the baby just stares at him so far."

"Ash was like that. Now Lavender tries babbling with him and he's a lot more interested. Seeing them together kinda makes me wish I had a sibling or two."

"Dude, you've got plenty these days." River stood from the sofa and tightened his scarf. "Listen, I'll get going. I told Cass I'd stop in to see her mother before I left town, myself. It'll be great to see you this weekend, and just...take it easy, okay? No case is more important than my sister and those kids."

"They're my entire world, man. If they're ever in danger, I'll do anything to keep them safe. Thank you for coming by, but I'm handling the stress. I swear to the Watcher."

River leaned in for a hug before they both left the house on Sable Square. He thought about their conversation the whole way to the precinct, about Heather's suspicions, needy Ximena, and angry old George Brindleton. By the time Conrad made it to work, he felt like his heart could explode from his chest.

He made a beeline for the break room and hit redial on the unlisted number he knew would be Ximena. This time, she picked up after only two rings.

"Conrad, do you need me?"

"Where's your brother?" He kept his voice low to ensure no one might overhear if they walked in the room.

"If I knew, I wouldn't have found you to ask for help."

"You found me before you said he went missing. What did you want then? Just me, right? Then what? Things start to go a little sideways with the cartel and you remember I said I'd help you if you ever left, the day I finally left you? But you never left, did you? When's the last time you worked for Los Tigres?"

"Four months ago."

"You and Jimmy, huh. How did it go?"

"It should have gone better!"

"Did they take your brother?"

"It's possible."

"Ximena, I can't do this. I can't help you. I've got kids. I'm not getting mixed up with you and that world again. When it might've been some degenerates trying to mess with the cartel, it was different."

"So you're just going to let them do whatever they want with him? Like they did with me before I took my future into my own hands?"

"You figured out how to beat the cartel at their own game once. If you're really against them and this isn't another lie, do it again for your brother. I'm not going to start investigating the cartel just because they've cut you out after too many bad deliveries." She stammered, and Conrad sighed. "Did you not think I'd read your file after you found me again? You don't even know that's who took Rafa."

"So you're really out? Even though it's Rafa." The sweet voice she put on for him had disappeared.

"Good luck, Ximena. I'm out."

He shook from a mix of anger and guilt when he hung up the phone and blocked her latest number. He was angry at her, but angrier at himself for letting it get this far. To never see her again wouldn't trouble him, but the mystery of Rafa's disappearance wouldn't be so easy to leave behind.

Yet River was right, as usual. He had to let it go. Heather and his family deserved his attention more than Ximena. More than Rafa.

He changed into shorts and a t-shirt and found one of the punching bags unoccupied in the upstairs gym. He funnelled a torrent of guilt and frustration through his gloves, pounding the leather bag at the end of his gloved fists.

For the rest of the day, Conrad stuck close to his desk to organize his case files. When 6p.m. hit, his head still clouded with stress, he clocked out and headed home.

But he remembered what River suggested and changed course, driving his cruiser across the bridge to Cavalier Cove, instead. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

Meanwhile, Ximena returned home and made herself a sandwich. Anyone recognize her apartment? 👀

[foreingersgod]

Hii can I request juju Watkins x reader where they go on a cute date in the town

Date Night . JW

pairing: juju watkins x reader

synopsis: juju takes you out for your birthday :)

A/N: i’m pretty sure juju is from LA (to my knowledge) so that’s where this is taking place, thus the beach and all of that. that’s what came to mind so i’m sorry if it’s not exactly what you meant by ‘downtown’ !

NOT PROOF READ

I know there's lots of love in your heart

But, who you gonna give it to?

a warm summer breeze nipped at your bare skin as you walked down the cracked sidewalk. your hand was intertwined with your girlfriends, her thumb rubbing at your knuckles soothingly. her body, one that towered over yours by several inches, bumped into you playfully while she guided you through town.

it was your birthday today and juju insisted that you go out and do something for your special day. before you had met her, you didn’t really care much for your birthday. being the center of attention was never your thing and making a whole celebration about yourself didn’t seem amusing to you. but then you started dating juju and you learned very quickly that that mindset was going to change.

you had been with her since both of yours’ freshman year of high school and every birthday since, she would put together a special day just for you. you could tell, just from how much she articulately planned your birthday, that she had so much love in her heart, and it was all for you.

I'm sure there's lots of guys that you see

But, I swear they're not as cool as me

she was everything you had wanted in someone; your best friend, the best girlfriend, she was all you needed. and you meant it, you had been together for 4 (going on 5) years now and she still managed to make you feel like the only girl in the world.

like tonight, for this particular birthday, she took you on a small date downtown. while it might not seem like anything remarkable, it meant more than anything to you.

downtown was were juju had asked you out on a date for the first time. when you guys went out on a friday night with your mutual friends group and she pulled you aside. the two of you stood underneath a single street light when she nervously played with her fingers, working up the courage to ask you. it was where you had your first date, too. she took you to the movies at the center of downtown, she knew it was one of your favorite things to do. and it was where you shared your very first kiss. when it was a brisk spring evening and she was driving you home, but she was too eager and pulled over off the side of the road. she took your face into her hands and leaned over the driver seat to kiss you right there and then.

it might sound silly to most people when you would say the bustle of downtown was your favorite place, but it was true. every important moment with your girl happened right in the center of it all.

Girl, I can take you where you wanna go, if you wanna ride

We could watch a movie, hit the beach, or just chill and get high

“where are we headed to now, hm?” you looked up at her, grinning from ear to ear. your hair movies slightly as another waft of wind rushed past you.

the sun was in the early stages of setting in the distance. past all the old and worn down shops and enormous buildings, the sky was illuminating a lovely shade of pinkish orange. it reflected perfectly on juju, her beautiful skin quite literally glowing. you didn’t want to look away from her, she looked absolutely exquisite as she turned her gaze down to you.

“well we just finished the movie so i thought,” she looked upwards to ponder “we could go to your favorite ice cream place and walk down to the beach?”

you nodded in acceptance, releasing her hand and joining arms instead. you wanted to be as close to her as possible.

your favorite ice cream shop wasn’t far from where you currently were, but it did give you some time to enjoy a small walk through town. as you continued your evening stroll, you watched anything that caught your eye. you pointed out cute articles of clothing through store windows, telling her she would look so cute in them. you’d look at the other cute couples enjoying the busy nature of downtown on a saturday because you loved to people watch. you’d laugh when juju cracked a joke, always the corniest ones because she knew they would make you fold over giggling. the ice cream shop was nearly forgotten as you were entranced in your girlfriend’s company.

soon enough it appeared around the corner of a brickwork building. it was small and built with tattered white boards, the inside shining a warm light and displaying a few strangling customers.

“what’re you gonna get this time, baby” she asked, arms folded and looking at todays flavors. juju, no matter how many times you came here, never knew what kind she wanted. you on the other hand, knew exactly what you were gonna order.

“i’m thinking cake batter, tonight” you pointed out to her “what about you?”

“how does cookies and cream sound?”

“good, but it’s your ice cream not mine” you chuckled.

“yea, but you always eat some of mine anyways” she smirked, side eyeing you jokingly.

you rolled your eyes back, cheeks heating up with a rosy blush. she knew you too well. it was true, you always managed to sneak bites of her ice cream after finishing yours first.

“yea ok whatever” you said as she kissed your cheek in a false attempt to apologize.

once the very polite employee finished scooping your ice cream, juju paid despite you trying to put your card into the reader. not only was she not about to let you pay on your birthday, but she’d never take you out somewhere without rightfully paying herself.

cones in hand, ice cream dripping down the sides, juju led you out of the parlor and back down the street. this time farther, heading down to the beach. you were almost skipping with excitement as you dragged her down the sidewalk.

And we can do whatever you wanna do

Ooh, oh, oh, oh

sand piled in between your bare toes, samoa warm sensation to the bottoms on your feet. you both kicked off your shoes and socks to abandon them on the concrete as you raced each other to the shoreline. your ice cream was half gone by the time you reached where the icy water met the dampened sand, sun now even lower than it was before. the two of you made yourselves comfortable on the sand, sitting side by side with your knees pulled up to your chests.

“how’s the cookies and cream?” you questioned, taking the last bite of your waffle cone.

“really good,” she took a small bite of hers “…you want to try it, don’t you?”

you licked your lip’s teasingly, leaning over to her to try it. she laughed, scolding you for taking too big of a bite (like you always did). but she didn’t care, she’d let you eat the whole thing before she’d get mad at you.

when the ice cream was finally finished and your hands were still faintly sticky, you scooted closer to juju, hips touching and her arm instinctively wrapping around your shoulders. you let your head fall against her shoulder and nuzzled into her collarbone. the sounds of the waves lulled you into a state of relaxation as you both sat in welcomed silence. it wasn’t often you got a spot like this all to yourselves so you enjoyed the quiet while you could.

you felt her lips press a kiss to the top of your head, her breath hot against your scalp. eyes fluttering closed in satisfaction, you hummed, sitting back up to steal a real one from her. your lips caught hers gently, sharing a sweet kiss. her hand found its way to your jaw to cradle it carefully as she pulled you in even deeper.

“d’you have a good birthday?” she exhaled, looking into your eyes deeply. she asked that every time and you answered just the just the same.

“i loved it” you beamed “the best day ever”

she ran her fingers through your hair suddenly, preventing the wind from dragging it into your face, “i’m glad, i love you so much, YN”

“i love you, too” you resumed your heads position on her shoulder, sighing constantly as you overlooked the perfect ending to the perfect day “so much”

Baby, I want some of your love

Your love (your love), your love

Baby (baby), can I have some of your love

Your love, your love

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

A/N: this was a little rushed but i hope you like it <3

[darlingofvalyria]

❝I am not a Valyrian Sex God.❞

part 03 | pucker up, buttercup

chapter summary:

[ The line of friendship dances in uncertain waters when you and Aemond play the fake dating game a little too well. Helaena reveals much more than meets the eye to Aegon, and vice versa. Oh, and Alys. Hi Alys! ]

[ 5,399 ] [ series masterlist ] | best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader & aemond targaryen x alys rivers,

contains— mostly fluff, a wee bit angsty, a little smutty - profanity, i swear a lot sorry too shhshs - no use of y/n - no gods, no kings, no betas.

a/n— thank you so much for the love this little fic is getting so far!! it truly warms my heart that you people enjoy my twisty, crackpot humour and my version of a modern au for these characters!! as much as i am grateful for george for making these characters and these stories, i have to say what propelled me to write is the beautiful community i found. truly, from the bottom of my heart. ❥ fandom is built on community. i would not have had the courage to start writing fanfiction again if not for ya'll. so thank you so much. for the consumers and the creators. you, us, are the beating heart of fandom. please take care of each other. + comment, reblog & like at will, mwa ♡

"Please tell me I haven't inhaled so much drugs in my system that I am hallucinating our— and I say this with a lot love, okay you know what? No. Our Nasty Little Bitch of A Grudge Holder we call, lovingly, a brother, is not dating the hottest friend you have? Hel? The hottest friend you told me if I ever came anywhere near, you'd rip me a new asshole? How is Aemond's asshole still intact?? Or does our brother just have a gaping fun-house slide down there? Hello? Hellooo, pay attention to meee. This is so rude, why didn't I call Daeron?"

"Because Daeron knows nothing and I know everything?" Hel snorts, finishing up re-naming Aemond's contact from CURRENT DUMB BRO to NASTY LITTLE BITCH OF A GRUDGE HOLDER, before turning to Aegon on her laptop.

Like she predicted, Aegon is already pouting, leaning back on what Helaena remembers is their grandfather's rum-coloured leather office chair. In his office. In Oldtown.

After a quick stint in Ibiza, it seems Helaena's brother had found himself back in the country, and worse— back in their grandfather's office. Without him in it.

"Grandpa's going to kill you." Helaena snorts. "How'd you even get inside his house?"

"This is not the first time I have been faced with a locked door, baby sister."

"You broke a window didn't you?"

"I really, really had to piss."

She rolls her eyes. Hard. "You are a boy. You can literally just pee anywhere."

Aegon flutters a gasp and a hand over his chest. "Excuse me? I may have a penis, but that does not mean I have to be uncouth. For shame, Helaena. Also disgusting. But that's not why I called." He steeples his fingers as he leans forward, pressing his elbows against the nice mahogany desk. "What the fuck is happening over there? I'll be there by tomorrow and I'd like to know what the fuck is happening before I start—" he wiggles his eyebrows salaciously, " — shaking things up."

A dark look crosses Helaena's usually amiable pretty face that has Aegon leaning back. "If you do anything— and I mean anything — to ruin what I have going on, Mother may help you for I certainly won't. The Stranger will look like an old friend, Egg, don't you fucking dare."

"What the fuck," Aegon exhales, wide-eyed and horrified. "Have you been watching M. Night Shyamalan movies again?"

"No," she lies. "I'm doing this for my OTP."

 "Oh my god, you're the one who roped them together?" Aegon strangles a sigh. "Lae-lae, we've talked about this. No matter how much you think they're cute, Aemond—"

"— Aemond and Alys broke up."

"Then they'll be together again before the weekend's out." Aegon rolls his eyes. "It's Aemond."

"Not like this." Hel shakes her head. "I got her to agree, Egg. And they're like... Gods, the pictures don't do them justice. They're magnetic. They make plans at the apartment, Aemond is there all the time— my OTP is happening."

"You are playing god between two people you care about."

"What else am I supposed to do?! They're obviously so hot for each other, and now that Alys is out of the picture, and she's there, right in front of him, Egg, you should see how it is between them. The energy. It's crackling. They have inside jokes, they're so comfortable with each other, and I will have the most beautiful nephew and niece—"

"—Helaena Targaryen," Aegon admonishes with finality. Hel quiets. Often times, the siblings forget Aegon is quintessentially the oldest sibling. They had never been close to their father's actual firstborn— the age gap is wide and there's just... too much complicated family fissures in between that it feels awkward, even when they're relationship is okay, to interact or consider Rhaenyra anything past a cousin you see every other holiday because you have to, much less now that their father's dead — so Aegon is their big brother.

And though they see it in bits, in flung comet pieces that you see preciously once every few hundred years— the vibe of big brother grasps the edges and reminds the younger siblings.

Sure, he's a dick. Sure, he's a whore. Sure, he's their mother's least and most favourite headache— but Aegon is their big brother.

"You cannot play puppeteer like this. This can blow up in their faces. And they care for each other. Their friends. If this blows up in their faces, it is going to hurt."

"I know that," Helaena says quietly, pout pinched but face mostly cleared. "You don't think I don't know?"

"I think you've already outweighed your chances and your choosing a possibility."

Helaena looks truly scolded at that point, and it juts a guilt down Aegon's stomach. But Aegon likes you. Maybe not like in the way that his brother likes you— in that intense, possessive way he gets with people and things he care about because there are so few of them — but he likes you. And he loves Aemond on a bad day, and likes him on a good one.

And Aegon knows, as a superior power about crashing and burning, that this is going to hurt both of you in ways that he truly doesn't think Helaena understands.

Because he isn't blind (as his brother) (bad joke?) (probably) to what he sees in Aemond's gaze when it looks at you. Sure it's possessive, sure it's the same way he looks at most people he keeps close to his heart.

But he was the one who saw how Aemond looked at you before Alys came into the picture. Before it morphed into nothing but platonic; morphed close to how he looks at Helaena. In that soft, I'm So Glad This Person Exists I Would Kill Literally Everyone For Them.

Aegon always thought he looked at you like he wanted to devour you. Etch you into his skin until your shape is in red marks across white plane. He looked at you like I Would Kill Myself If You Asked.

It was the possibility of devotion dipped in insanity. Aemond had so few things, much less people, who so vocally, physically, and emotionally cared for him without addendums.

The only real reason he never did anything before was because you were Helaena's best friend. Helaena loved you. And he couldn't destroy that alongside the fact that you might leave his side.

And then Alys happened and that focal point moved.

Aegon knew his brother. Not as intensely, and maybe that's the reason he could see it. To see clearly past the intensity and recognise its edges. Aegon knew his brother in his marrow.

"When this crashes and burns—"

"If!" Helaena quips stubbornly. "If it crashes and burns. Come home. You'll see, Egg. Aemond just needs to see."

"And what if she doesn't reciprocate, Lae-lae? She's not hard to love, and this is Aemond." Even Helaena knows his feelings, once taken root in whatever form, can blossom.

Helaena smiles softly. "Come home. You'll see. I can see it. I've seen it. The possibility of them, and it's so pretty, Egg."

It's really not all that pretty, fake dating.

Maybe it could be, but Aemond Targaryen is such an ass.

"This is not like The Devil Wears Prada fashion montage," you grumble, pinching off the big, 60s, yellow sunglasses off your nose to glare pointedly at the man sat on lounge chair. "All the zippers and tugging— this is not as pretty! And I look ridiculous! I don't wear dresses like these, Aemy!"

"You don't look ridiculous, you look like my girlfriend." He makes his emphasis with an inch raised eyebrow and pouty lips twitching not to laugh. "That's the point, is it not?"

You make a drawl huff. It's not just that his words were right— that's what the past hour has been, roaming around all these big named fashion brands where the staff just knows Aemond Targaryen, if not just by him sauntering in with all the swagger of an asshole you'd walk the other side of the street to ignore, then by the flash of his black card (or three, 'cause what the fuck is money to Targaryens holy shit) — but the way he's sitting as he appraises every look he's chosen for you.

He's lax, as could be in his usually perfect posture, with his hips in the middle, and one leg braced down whilst the other is raised to his other thigh. A confident man's sitting position, with an arm over the length of the sofa, balancing a champagne a trying-to-suppress-her-giddiness staff gave him.

At your disapproved glare— down on your nose at him because you're standing over him, lording over him, as he's sitting down — and he's smirking up at you. As if the power dynamics don't shift by whoever is looming over the other.

Aemond doesn't need to stand to make you feel all fluttery with a smirk and a strong gaze against your body. His eyes gaze from the bottom of your heeled toes, slow, slow, slow, until it reached the top of your head.

Surely you've only imagined his gaze lingering on certain parts of you that now felt hot and tingly.

Surely.

"Plus," he continues with a hum. A sip of champagne. "Isn't this your idea?"

"Yes, but—"

"Didn't you tell me that I should prepare the kind of outfits that Aemond Targaryen's girlfriend would wear—"

 "Yes, but I—"

He leans forward, taking pleasure in arguing with you, as he settles his elbows on his knees, pressing both of his feet flat on the tile. He's looking up, still, but his eyes are intense and the corner of his mouth is twitching from a grin he's trying to fight.

"And even when I told you that didn't matter, that whatever you wore would be fine, you insisted?"

"Because I thought it'd be fun!" you growl and he falls in faint, amused laughter. His eye is sparkling and there's a joy to him that makes you giddy. You truly have missed Aemond as you know him. "Because I wanted a fun dress-up montage, but nothing about this is fun! Why are you choosing so many goddamned zippers, and they're all so fucking tight?"

You plop beside him, stealing his champagne. Staff look away, trying not to ogle too much between you two. As you take sips of his drink, his hand, still over the sofa's arm, begin drawing idle circles on your exposed shoulders. It warms you and calms you down, melting further in the seat beside him.

"I liked the dresses," he finally murmurs. "The ones before this. The flowy fabric ones."

"Those are summer dresses," you say though don't know why.

"Hm," he hums. "You look pretty in them."

You look up at him and he's looking at you, a small smile on his face. The proximity is too near to be proper but not near enough if you're fake dating. You study his silver lashes and the scarred flesh.

"Thanks."

"We'll get them. Is that alright with you?"

You snort softly. "You're paying, Aemy. You can do whatever you want. Can't believe this is how your dates with Alys usually went."

Hatching plans meant unloading information about his former relationship with her. Going through their relationship so you could understand it better, better proportioned the good and the bad, and secretly, make him see the red flags that should jump out in clear, plastic red.

"Not at first." He's looking away now, but his finger is still drawing circles. There's a wistful tone to his voice, like seeing through a dream and a memory. "But when it got... bad, it seemed like the only time we weren't fighting was when we were in public. Almost subconsciously, whenever things got tensed, I'd offer to take us out. Do anything outside of our bubble. Money isn't an issue, and before Alys said she felt like a... cheap whore than a girlfriend, buying things for her, spending time looking through things to wear, to match almost, was safe."

"Gift Giving," you mutter with a nod. He turns.

"What was that?"

"A love language." He cocks his head. You sigh. "I mean it's stupid and not really theoretically accurate, but for fun, there's five types of love languages. People do this test thing and sort of box up the kind of love language you want to receive and what you give— but truly, in my opinion, a true kind of love demands all five for it to work."

He hums, intrigued. "And what are the five?"

"Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, Physical Touch, Acts of Service, Gift Giving. But, you know, all of those should be given by a partner, in increments they can do for you. There shouldn't be a boxed fixture of what your relationship could be."

You shrug, standing up and stretching. You don't see him looking at you in the way that he has been for the past few days, and he doesn't know the tingles and feelings you keep between a smile and a sigh.

"Love looks different for everyone but it should have the same concept."

"And what concept is that?"

You turn to him, smiling. "That if you truly love someone, you can try anything. Love doesn't demand things that you do for the simple reason that you love the person enough."

"Love can be complicated," he says, and he's not arguing, not really. He isn't begging for you to understand. He is simply saying.

"Love can," you agree. "As most things are complicated. But it doesn't have to hurt."

It's a boundary line, the way he blinks, remembering why you're here together, why he gets to touch you in intimate ways, why he gets to pay for clothes, why you spend this time with him. A jolt. A shock.

You don't press and he doesn't retreat. The line exists not just to remind, but to stabilise any projections. Any dangerous tones.

You simply smile, nodding at the time. "Dinner date, babycakes. We can't be late for reservations."

"We can be late for a few minutes," he says, remembering echoes of how Alys sometimes got late. It isn't really her fault; there are days when she's too busy at the law firm, too busy with a meeting or two, or still finishing up her makeup because she doesn't like going to dinner in her work clothes.

"Sure, but we're here together and I know how much you hate being late." You snort.

"I don't hate it."

"Sure, but you got that eye twitch you do when you're annoyed," you tease, tapping your own eye before you wink at him and skip away.

For the past few days since the bar incident, by your suggestion, you and Aemond had pour out the intricacies of how Aemond and Alys' relationship worked whilst hiding your true intention of making him see its faults and corners, and at the same time, continue on with the charade of dating him.

It's been a packed week or so, going to your shifts at the bar, meeting with Cregan once and a while (boy had been busy, and he found the entire thing with Aemond incredibly hilarious).

You answered no question mark in regards on who the hand was, only sent a winky face or a kiss blowing emoji. You continue to post minute representations of your no-longer-single status in brief intervals, making sure that you never name him. You never publicly give him a recognisable body.

But for those that knew, knew.

It really wasn't that hard. There were only so much pale, toned hands, so much body builds you can hide with your hand covering his general face that you can hide without people making smart guesses. There wasn't a lot of pale, toned people around you after all.

But in your refusal to name him, the question continues, and so does Alys silent observation of every post. The only story she had liked had been the very first one.

You often wonder what she thinks, before your mind is devoured once again with everything else.

To be fair, as often as you had both been seeing each other lately— and it has been the most often you have been seeing of him — there were still things outside of Aemond and Helaena plans. And Aemond still had UNI to focus on.

"You know, I often forget you're still in university," you say now, comfortably warm in Aemond's car. All fresh leather seat and crisp new car smell despite knowing that Aemond's had this unit now for at least a year. He maybe rich, but he knew what he liked and took care of them.

He shoots you a quizzical look before looking back at the road. The city is bathed in a gorgeous stream of oranges and pinks, tie-dying glass buildings and bustle of city roads. When you look at him, you smile softly at how pretty the light hits him.

"Why is that? Do I look that young?"

"Your vibe is so old man on a nine to three, cigar breaks by four, and whiskey sours by seven pm."

He makes a disgruntled sound at the back of his throat. You laugh. "I would like to think it's my altruistic classicism. A timeless endeavour."

"Sure, old man," you tease then sigh. "Reality is, I'm so much older than you. I'm hanging out with a child. On my free day. Is this what it means to reach low status?"

"I am not a child." His reply is sharp, cutting, almost offended.

"You're in college."

"And of legal age? You're only four years older."

"Oh, right."

"What?"

You smirk at his dark look. "You like 'em way older."

His face, much like his gaze, heats up. You're imaging it when the ride turns red, the car slows to a stop, and he is looking at your lips. Surely it was, because you got transfixed with the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips. A slow, tantalising movement.

It feels like an eternity stretched within three seconds. The light turns green and both of you turn away.

Well, there's been that. A few times. But it doesn't mean anything. Aemond is in that transition of trying to rid himself of bad habits, of being freshly single once again, and you know he and Alys get in on frequently. This had been a conversation a few days back, on a couch, smell of grease and pizza around the room while Murder She Wrote played in the background.

"Wait, wait, wait." You sat up, folding your legs underneath your butt, and giving Aemond your full attention with a little 'o' in your mouth.

"Wait!" Helaena calls playfully from her sway to the bathroom. "Imma pee!"

"Take care, my beloved!" you call back, before turning to Aemond with a big, Cheshire grin.

"Can we not dwell on it?" He's flustered but is trying not to show it, looking back to the TV as if he understood why there's a body on the plane.

But wine has been had, spilled and shared, and it's enough for you to grab that fluster and the topic, and smirked.

"No, no, we will talk about it. We shall! We must! Do you mean to tell me that by the end of it, most of the time, you two were just boning? Is Aemy, one of my favourite people in the world, a Valyrian Sex God?? Oh my god??"

"I am not a Valyrian Sex God."

"Okay, girly pop, please." You raised a hand in a 'talk to the hand' motion and he was smiling at you, entranced and frustrated. "Women talk, Aemy!"

There was a flush and Helaena came back. Wine did things to Helaena, and she was stumbling and giggling as she flopped behind you, turning around and encasing you in a koala hug.

"Women talk, baby bro." Helaena nodded sagely. "Even I try not to listen, they talk, alas."

"And Alys has said those hips—"  You pointed a j'accuse finger at his hips, then his mouth. "—and that tongue has done things that can make the Maiden blush."

Helaena groaned behind you're back, a slew of 'ew's escaping her mouth. And you were still being playful, teasing, but Aemond was looking at you, though scarlet, with a deepened expression.

And at that moment, both of you were thinking the same thing.

His chin brushing your thighs, your sighs like music to his ears, and his tongue making you scream.

Warmth pooled, twin expressions share a gaze. Hunger, desire, shame.

The connection was destroyed when Helaena abruptly jolted and fell down the carpet. Because she was holding onto you, you got pulled with her.

"Are you okay??" Aemond asked.

Hel gasped. "I thought I saw Bobby. I think I squished Bobby."

You shook your head. "You didn't. Bobby is spry. Bobby knows to move away."

Aemond's confused face peered down at both of you. "Who's Bobby?"

"The local spider that lives here."

"Of course." And he smiled.

You smiled back.

Helaena giggled beside you but when you ask her, she only shook her head.

And the silence that lulls in the car is like both of you reaching the very same memory and having to sit through the stifle of that drunken interaction about his sex life. He coughs, you let out a breathy giggle.

"I should admit something," he says, parking the car in front of the restaurant. Dusk is settling, sunset in bright red and orange turning to a cool blue and pretty lavender— and when you turn to him after getting out of the car, coddling your jacket close to your body, he looks nervy. Apologetic, almost.

"What? What'd you do?"

He bites his bottom lip. "I know something about this restaurant."

"I would assume. You chose it." Your eyes narrow, giving the black-out floor to ceiling windows a look. The Painted Table is lit up in a scrawled font on top of it.

You step inside, not bothering to turn to his call of your name, and is submerged by the restaurant's vibe. It's a darkened place with meaningful lighting but a casual air, a bar on the side, and an upbeat jazzy music dancing in the air — it looks good. The place smelled delicious.

Nothing about it sparked familiarity to you, but the anticipation from that look of guilt on his face brought you to a high-strung, so when he calls your name again, just behind you, you turn.

"Is this where you had your first date with Alys?"

He shakes his head. "No. No, but—"

"Aemond?"

The voice is familiar, and you don't stop enough to think before you're turning to the low, clear voice that's just a hint of husky, and Alys' green eyes go wide at your appearance.

She's dressed nice, dressed to go out in a black dress dipping low and fabric tangled around her body to show off her curves. Her inky hair was swept to one side and her mouth was bloodred.

Alys Rivers, owner of Aemond's firsts. The woman he seemingly can't let go off.

You smile. It feels fake. "Oh. Hi Alys."

Her shock staves off into a genuine smile that makes you guilty. "Hi, my love. I see you two are together. Always attached at the hip. Dinner?"

Before you nod— or maybe strangle Aemond — he comes forward, taking your hand in the process and lacing it. He's looking at her as if he's setting a challenge when Alys' eyes fall on your intertwined hands.

"Yes," he says. "We are."

"Well... that's good. This place is great. I—" Someone calls her name, she turns back. You shoot Aemond a withering glare you hope conveys how much you're going to beat his ass after this. She turns back, smiling still. There's a pinch between her eyes but it's gone by the third blink. "Well, I have to go. I'll see you both soon, okay?" She turns to you, stepping forward, not minding the Targaryen beside you. "Especially you. We haven't hung out in a while."

"That's true, I've missed you, you crazy witch." And she laughs and you smile, because you genuinely consider Alys to be one of your friends. Not maybe as deeply as Helaena's, or as close, but Alys was an amazing person and you enjoy her company.

Plus, right now the one you're angry about it solely the man holding your hand.

Alys turns to Aemond, and he stiffens. Between them is a complicated look. So many things unsaid, before her smirk softens. "It's nice to see you too, Aemond."

And she turns away, walking back to her table, to her date, when you tug him with you to the bar. As you order a dry martini, he speaks. Calm and soft.

"You're mad at me."

"You knew she was going to be here." You turn to him, arching an eyebrow, hating the way your chest pangs. "You stalked her and brought us here because you wanted to use me."

He shifts, face crumples at the word 'use' and calls your name in a plead. "It's not like that."

You snort, taking a sip of your drink when it arrives. "Don't lie."

"Okay. Yes, I did. I... I made an impulsive decision because I wanted to see how she could go on a date as if we were nothing." Bitterness cripples his words, the smirk on his lips is ironic and darkened in hurt. Your heart hurts for him, but you can't give him a pass just like that. He hurt you too.

"You could've told me."

He raises an eyebrow. "You would be okay with this?"

Your own smile is ironic and darkened by hurt. "You're already using me, Aemy. That was the deal I agreed, for Hel. It would at least lick the wound to have been in the know, and not, you know, got shot in the face with it."

At the first part of your tirade, he looked like he wanted to argue with the using part, but the realisation weighs him because it is true. To him, he is using you. And it's a cheap shot on your part because you were also doing this for him, out of your own free will.

You sigh when he turns away, guilt dipping low.

"You're such a dumbass."

He hums in agreement.

You're aware of a gaze from the tables, somewhere in the ocean of jazz music and chatter, Alys is looking, and you kinda wanna make this good for him. You were already here after all.

Your hand reaches his jaw, sliding across his neck until you reach his nape and fingers tangle with the baby hairs there. His hair had been wrapped into a bun. Sleek and fluffy.

He turns to you, to your touch, in shock. "What are you—"

"Try not to look so surprised," you whisper, stepping close to him until your noses are bumping. "We're supposed to be dating."

And then you slant your mouth against his.

TAGGED: @fan-goddess @snh96 @valeskafics @opheliaas-stuff @tempo-rary-fix @fantasticpeaceharmony @diannnnsss @iamavailablesstuff @spinachtz @at-a-rax-ia @bespinnn @tsujifreya @moonlightfoxx @kemillyfreitas @joyouart @bananzaa @honey-on-mars @alexa4040 @cinnamonbambii @wintrr13 @wxb-slingrr @astroswift @queenofshinigamis @helaenaluvr @kaetastic @jxdegodfrey @laniii-on-your-left @watercolorskyy @snowprincesa1 @gemini-mama

[octuscle]

Hey, support! So I’m Gus and there’s this really handsome muscle daddy at this marine research center I work at and I want to get him to notice me. He’s really into beefy, well-dressed himbos with nice facial hair and big pecs. Could you help me out please? I don’t want to be too dumb cuz I really want to keep this job, but you can change me however else within what would be his type.

Chronivac is currently experiencing a few technical problems. But I've heard about this tanning salon. “Magic sunbed”. Ask for sunbed 2. 20 minutes should be enough. Definitely no more. Otherwise I can't guarantee anything.

Bekim has had a shit day so far. The turnover isn't right, his boss has given him a telling off. You're only the second customer. He greets you like an old friend. Couch 2 is free. Special offer for today only and for new customers: 30 minutes for a surcharge of just 10 percent and the special lotion at half price. Bekim explains that 20 minutes is basically useless. The skin only tans after 20 minutes. A lot helps a lot, you think. You've never been to a tanning salon before. The staff will know what they're doing.

You go into cabin 2, strip off and rub yourself with lotion. The lotion stinks. You look for an expiration date. Obviously still good for over a year. Then the smell of musk, sweat and sperm must be… Should you leave your underpants on now? Or take them off? To be on the safe side, you undress completely and lie down on the couch. You look for a switch to start the process. You are struck by lightning. It gets light, it gets warm. You close your eyes and try to sleep.

Sleep is out of the question. It's so hot. You're lying in a puddle of sweat. And the stench of the lotion is getting worse. So more intense… You don't actually find it bad any more. More like… Exciting. Your cock is getting hard. You start to wank. Your colleague from the lab in front of you. You can literally feel him running his fingers through your beard and pulling down your dungarees to suck your nipples on your monstrous pecs… Wait a minute! Dungarees? No, lab coat. Right? Never mind, your cock is almost bumping into the top shell of the tanning bed. Your balls are bursting. And then you shoot a geyser out of your cock. A fountain forms three or four times. And soon you're lying in a puddle of sweat and cum. Shit, you could have saved yourself the lotion…

The tanning process ends as abruptly as it started. Cold and dark. The upper bowl slowly rises. Shit, there's only the towel, which is far too small as always. But where are your things? “Yo, Bekim, where the heck are my clothes at?” you shout. Bekim knocks and brings you your dungarees, jockstrap, socks and work boots. The submissive pig couldn't resist wearing your clothes. You noticed he had a crush on you months ago when he started working here. You were one of his first customers. And then you became a regular customer. Shit, he was so excited, he did everything wrong. Well, today he's one of the old hands here. And somehow a buddy of yours. As long as the clothes are neatly laid out and not full of wax, it's okay if he lives out his fetish during your tanning session. Bekim wants to suck you off as a thank you. “Next time, Buddy,” you say. You have to go back to the lab. Your pager has already beeped four times. Some damn ventilation system isn't working as it should.

Bekim is like, the top dude of all time. He's not just about making sure your tanning bed is always ready for your regular sessions. He also hooks you up with the good stuff so your biceps stay swole and your nuts stay juiced. That's how the guy at the Marine Research Center where you work likes it. He's a real muscle daddy. And he's into his dumb janitor hoe.

[familyvideostevie]

august: a no good at waiting one-shot

Almost a year has gone by since you arrived in Hawkins. You and your enemy-turned-friend-turned-love-of-your-life Steve Harrington are feeling a little restless as summer passes. Your anxieties will not leave you alone: Are you going to move in together? Does Steve want to leave Hawkins? What will you do if he goes somewhere else? It all comes to a head on a day spent at Lover's Lake.

fluff, angst, miscommunication, musings about making choices, and lots of love! [5.4k]

this is a one-shot set after the events of no good at waiting, a farmer's market au, so it's best if you read that first! | au masterlist

__

Everything is perfect.

Well, not exactly. But you're happy.

Okay, again, not the whole truth. You're mostly happy. You love living in Hawkins, you love working at New-Bee's and the library, and you love Steve. Your boyfriend, your short-lived enemy, your favorite person. Who is kind of pissing you off right now.

Almost a year has gone by since you arrived in Hawkins not knowing what you wanted or who you were or how things were going to go. This summer has been fantastic -- dates with Steve and nights with your friends, drives to amusement parks and county fairs and visiting Robin's campus. It feels right to be here and you're glad that you decided to stay. You think that maybe you've finally figured out how life is supposed to feel: like this. Like love.

But at the moment, Steve has you in a bit of a rut. A few months ago he told you he really wanted to go on a trip this summer. Something just the two of you, a week or two, exploring a new place. You loved the idea because you love doing anything with Steve, but for some reason he's hardly mentioned it since then. And with the end of summer fast approaching, you know your chances at getting away are running out. As far as you can tell, he hasn't planned anything secret. Sure, things have been busy: El broke her arm last month so Steve took on extra shifts, there was a huge storm that flooded some of the fields, you got a promotion and the library and thus more hours, his car needed new breaks. The stars haven't aligned but there also hasn't been any...effort.

And that's just one thing.

The other thing, which is maybe bigger and actually makes you a bit mad, is you've been focused on figuring out how to move in together. You live at Bob's still and while you spend a lot of time at Steve's loft you've talked about finding a place of your own and your loose goal was to have it sorted by the fall. But he talks about both the move and the trip like they're just dreams, far away things that will never actually happen. He's vague whenever you bring up the new apartments going up on the old mall property, about the for sale signs you sometimes see around town. He tells you that it'll work out, that he wants to be sure you guys have enough money to be comfortable.

Does he not want to move in with you? It's a silly thought, sure, but what else are you supposed to think? He's spending every minute he's not with you at the farm or on errands he's been calling "Hopper Missions" on some property just outside of town. It's like he's filling the time so there's no room to discuss the future, like he wants to pretend it'll be summer forever.

Being in an adult relationship is hard. It's lots of decisions and compromise and learning how to talk to each other even when you don't want to and you wouldn't trade it for the world. You know it'll all work out, you just wish that it was worked out already, so you could enjoy the end of the summer and stop worrying that your boyfriend doesn't want to live with you. You know that you should just tell him how you're feeling, but that's easier said than done. Every time you try you wonder if you're being oversensitive or ungrateful or reading into things too much and you back out. Feelings are hard, okay?

You're mulling over the weight of all of these thoughts at the market on one warm Saturday morning in August. Market day is routine by now. It was fun to be here for the start of the season back in May, but you prefer the high summer days when there are endless fruits and veggies to buy and everyone is full of energy and excitement at another day. By now you run the stand practically alone -- local kids free for the summer help you stock in the morning and unload and cover when you're otherwise occupied. You've expanded to four standard candle scents and try out a seasonal one every month or so and the soaps were a very popular graduation gift. You've just tried your hand at chapsticks and they're doing really well.

Most people in town call you by your name when they come say hi. It's a little slow this month, with seasonal allergy honey sticks being less and less popular as the season winds down. So you feel okay retreating into your thoughts until someone clears their throat. You snap out of it and find El standing in front of you with a paper bag. There's a crease between her brows as she watches you.

"Hi," you say. "Is that for me?"

She nods. "I said that you looked sad so Steve told me to bring you something because he's 'up to his ears in husk'. He said you didn't eat breakfast." She uses air quotes. You soften.

"Thank you," you tell her. She keeps looking at you for a few moments before giving you a smile and trotting back to the Sara's tent. Inside the bag is one of her newer experiments -- peach scones. It's fantastic. You munch on it and keep smiling at anyone who comes by, though it's maybe not as effusive as you'd like. You really want to talk to someone about how you're feeling (a voice in your head says that person should be your boyfriend but you ignore it) but you're not sure who to go to. Robin is in Boston visiting Nancy at her hot-shot job at the paper, Eddie and Wayne are on a fishing trip somewhere in Michigan, and you're not about to chat to high schoolers about your love life, no matter how much you like them. You're not sure anyone around here notices your mood like your friends do.

"Why do you look like you swallowed a lemon?"

Well, anyone but your friends and...Murray, it seems. The guy is a little weird, sure, but he's friends with Hopper and Joyce and he really buys "a fuck ton" from the market every week, as Steve once said.

"Hi Mr. Bauman," you say. He frowns.

"Cut that Mr. shit out," he says, though it's not harsh. You do this dance every time he comes to buy an alarming amount of honey. "Your mood is going to ruin the honey."

"I...don't think that's how it works," you say. He levels you with a stare that you think must have served him well when he was a journalist in Chicago, as you've learned he was. "I'm thinking about a place to live?"

"You sure?" he says, poking fun at your uncertainty. "You can live anywhere. Trust me. Cars aren't great, but they'll do. I'd avoid tents. Very damp."

"I guess I was thinking a house," you admit, looking at your fingers. You've never put this into words before and you're not sure why you're doing it now. "Somewhere not too big, maybe with some land so I could get a dog. Not in town but not too far from town." You sigh. "It's a dumb dream."

Murray doesn't say anything. You look up at him and he looks confused. His gaze darts between you and the Sara's stand where you can see the back of Steve's head. "Not the dumbest I've heard."

He slaps down a bill and picks up his usual jar and walks away without another word. Whatever, he's a weird guy.

The day winds down and you're a little too warm to be comfortable and you're just sweaty enough that you want to take a shower and you've stewed in your feelings for too long. Of course this is when Steve comes over. Handsome as ever in his work jeans despite the heat and a Sara's t-shirt he's cut the arms off of, he looks like the lead in a teen movie.

You're loading up the crates to take back to the truck. He squeezes your hip in hello before he starts to help. "How did New-Bee's do today?" he asks.

You shrug. "Average. You?"

"Every damn person in this town wanted corn," he says. "I swear it felt like we sold more than we did for the fourth!"

You hum. It's unfair that your mood has plummeted just as he's shown up and you don't want to take it out on him, even if you consider it a little bit his fault. Steve, for his part, is being a typical boy and doesn't notice. "Hey, listen," he says.

"Listening," you mutter.

"Let's go to the lake tomorrow." That gets you to look at him. He wipes his forehead with his pocket bandana.

"The lake? Why?"

"Everyone says it'll be hotter than today and I think we deserve a day to relax, don't you think?" He squints at the sky, shading his eyes. His arms look lovely like this. "I know we haven't gone on that trip so this is like, a mini trip! Staycation? I think that's what it's called."

"I don't know if a day at the lake in town counts as a vacation, Steve," you say. But even as the words come out you find yourself wanting to go because its something to do. You haven't been swimming in the lake despite Steve's summer bucket list item of skinny dipping. You've actually only been to the lake in general a few times, which is a bit strange since it's such a big place in your relationship. You kissed for the first time at the bonfire on the shore, you told him you loved him in the cab of your truck on a cold night.

"So, is that a no?" He's looking at you with a confused expression.

"It's a yes. Is anyone else coming?"

"No, just us. We can have a picnic or some cute shit, yeah?" He rests his hand on your lower back and maybe it's a combination of the heat and your mood and the universe but you don't want him to touch you right then so you pull away from it. You don't look at him.

"Are you sure you don't have super secret Hopper shit to do?" Silence behind you.

"No," Steve says, dragging the word out. "Hey, are you alright? Did I do something?"

You ignore his question. "Are you going to come get me in the morning?" Usually, you'd go home, shower, and then stay over at Steve's place. This is a clear line in the sand that you're not sure is fair to draw.

"Sure," he says. "But, seriously, what's going on?" You do look at him then. He's got a frustrated set to his shoulders and his brows are drawn like he's trying to solve a puzzle.

You chew on your lip, hands in fists at your sides. "Nothing," you say. He gives you an incredulous look. "Okay, I just don't want to talk about it right now." The last thing you need is to not talk about it but you can feel that you're getting actually bothered about this and you don't want to have a discussion that gets taken over by your mood.

"Okaaaaay," he says. It annoys you even more. Your own shoulders creep up to your ears. "I'll help you pack up and then --"

"No," you say sharply. "I can do it myself."

"Woah, woah, woah," he says. "Okay, alright!" He holds his hands up in the air and the fight wooshes out of you.

"I don't want to fight with you, Steve."

"Who said we were fighting? Do we have something to fight about?"

You close your eyes and tip your head back. It all comes out in a rush. "Steve, I love you and we spend so much time together and I keep trying to get you to talk about looking for a place and you just won't and you want to go on a trip but you won't actually plan it and you want to go to the fucking lake tomorrow and it's like you want to do anything except talk about this stuff and I don't really want to be around you right now."

You don't feel any better for having said all of it. In fact, your chest aches and your nose stings. You don't know if you can look at him.

"I didn't know you were that upset about it," he says finally. It sounds frosty.

"I didn't tell you."

"I can see that," he says. You still don't look at him.

The market is really closing up around you, fewer voices and commotion. You wonder if anyone heard this argument. "I can pack the rest. I'll see you tomorrow." You could have told him you don't want to go but maybe the lake is where you can squash this once and for all.

Steve seems to take the dismissal at face value because you hear him sigh. Part of you wants him to fight you on it right here right now, to sort it out so you can stop feeling so worried all the time. But he doesn't. Instead, you hear his steps and then feel the heat of him as he gently kisses you on the cheek.

"Okay," he says. "See you tomorrow."

And then he's gone.

"Fuck," you say to yourself. You shake yourself out of it and try to pack away the rest of the stall with as much speed as you can muster without breaking anything. The scar across your palm is faint by now but you aren't eager to get another one.

You're almost done bringing the crates to the truck when you hear your name. Will stands in front of your stall, a hesitant smile on his face. He's a sweet kid -- 18, soon, you think, so hardly a kid at all -- and you've gotten to know him a little more since you asked if he wanted to draw the labels for the chapsticks.

"Hi, Will," you say. "Sorry I didn't see you."

He's holding a single sunflower. "Sorry to bother you," he says. "This guy is the only one left today and El said you looked a little down earlier so I thought maybe you'd like it?"

You blink a few times. "Did you, uh, hear all of...that?" You vaguely gesture behind you as if the ghost of Steve is standing there with his arms crossed.

Will looks at you for a second, considering something. Then he holds the flower out and says, "Hear what?" Tactful kid.

"Thanks, Will." He tells you to have a good day and goes back to the flower stand. The sunflower stem is velvet-soft in your hand and the petals are a brilliant yellow. It's a bit lonely on it's own but you will put it in a wine bottle and keep it on your windowsill.

Imagining it there, the only stem, standing as tall as it can in the sunshine in your bedroom, makes you want to cry.

--

The thing you're most scared of is Steve wanting to leave Hawkins after all. You knew it was a genuine possibility when you started dating, knew that he wanted to explore the world just as you started to make yours here. You told him you'd go with him anywhere he wanted and you meant it then. But now you're not so sure. You love Hawkins and you love Steve. You don't know what you're going to do if one of them demands you leave the other.

Your mind churns as you go to bed and as soon as you wake up. Maybe he doesn't want to plan a trip because he's afraid he won't want to come back. Maybe he's afraid to move in together because he doesn't want to invest time and money into something he'll leave behind. Maybe he's already got plans and he's trying to figure out how to tell you.

"Stop it," you tell yourself in the bathroom mirror. You're prone to this kind of overthinking; it's why you made the huge mistake of running from him last fall. And while you know him so much better, know yourself so much better, sometimes it's hard to believe that you not only deserve nice things and a nice life full of love but that you already have them. And that's why you don't know if you can leave even if you told him you could.

You sit at the kitchen table in your swimsuit under shorts and a wax-stained New-Bee's t-shirt and feel a bit sick about yesterday. You know that Steve will come get you -- he would have called if he didn't want to go anymore. You don't leave each other in a lurch like that, even if you've fought. But you're worried that you've ruined the chance of a fun day that hasn't even happened yet.

The frustration with Steve still simmers under your skin. But you want to table it to have a bit of fun, if you can. You hear the crunch of his tires in the driveway and you grab your stuffed bag and head for the door. You're greeted with the sight of Steve getting out of the car and smiling at you a little hesitantly. He's in bright red swim trunks and a ratty Hawkins High t-shirt and sunglasses.

"What is this, Baywatch?" you ask him, breaking the tension. He laughs and meets you on the porch stairs to give you a quick kiss. You chase his lips a little but he doesn't call you on it.

"Well, I was a lifeguard," he says.

"Which I bet you did just so you could look hot in the chair."

"Obviously," Steve says. He takes your bag from you. "Actually, I taught kids to swim, too. Jesus, what's in here, a watermelon?"

You roll your eyes. "Just the essentials. Sunscreen, a book, some sandwiches, grapes, a water bottle, spare clothes, a towel, a hat --"

"Okay, okay, damn," he laughs, putting it in the back seat. You get in the car and he heads for the lake, windows down. He was right about the weather -- it's much hotter than yesterday already. It could be a nice day. You want it to be a nice day. But the churning your gut demands you address the elephant in the room.

When Steve reaches for the radio you catch his hand in yours.

"Steve," you say. "I do want to talk about yesterday." He doesn't look at you, chewing on his cheek and tapping the wheel in what you know is a nervous habit.

"Yeah," he says. "We probably should. But I also want today to be nice, okay?" He kisses the back of your hand.

"I do, too."

It's not much but it's enough for now. It doesn't take long to get to the lake. Steve takes you to a different part than where you had the bonfire and where you told him you love him. This area has a dock and some grass and a shore of sand and rocks that you can see from where he parks the car.

"There's no one here," you say, unloading the backseat. "Are we even allowed to swim?"

Steve grabs the blanket from his trunk and you spread it out on the grass. "Yeah," he says. "Five years ago or something they finished a project with some scientists or some shit to make sure the lake was good for swimming. They built this but honestly I don't think a ton of people come here." He shrugs. "Or they knew we were coming and left it to us."

"Lucky us," you smirk. You spread out your items on the grass before shimmying out of your shorts and t-shirt. Steve wolf whistles. "Gross!" you tell him.

"Sorry," he says, not looking sorry at all. "That's a nice color on you. Have I seen this before?" His eyes rake over you and you plant your hands on your hips instead of crossing your arms.

"Have we been swimming before?" you ask him.

He grins. "Good point." He pulls off his shirt in one motion from the collar like boys do and without another word sprints down the small hill and onto the dock, jumping off the end and into the water with a yelp and a splash.

"Such a child," you mutter, but you're endeared. He surfaces and shakes out his head like a dog.

"Okay," he says. "It's kind of really fucking cold."

You stop in your tracks, feet just on the edge of the dock. "Really?"

"No," he says. "It's only a little cold. Nice, though." You look skeptical.

"Did you put on sunscreen?" you ask, stalling.

"Yeah." Steve swims in slow circle. "Did you? I'll do your back," he says with an eyebrow wiggle.

"I did it already," you say primly. You knew that if you ended up touching too much on this date, you'd never get to talk about the stuff you need to talk about. "So no back rub necessary." Steve shoots a stream of water at you with his mouth. It gets your knees.

"It is cold!" you squeal. Steve looks too pleased with himself. "It's on, Harrington." You take a few running steps and cannonball into the water.

Honestly, once you've been under for a few seconds it's not so bad. You surface and find Steve grinning at you. "That was cute," he says. You splash him.

After acting like children for a little you both float on your backs, hands clasped, watching the sky. Your conversation and teasing fades and in its place returns your anxiety and frustration from yesterday.

Steve seems to think you're hungry. "Let's eat something," he says. "And put on some more sunscreen."

He gets up on the dock first and runs to get your towels. He wraps yours around your dripping shoulders and you stand in his arms for a second, hand pressed to his heart to feel it beat. You love him. You will work this out. You wonder if it's possible for something to go wrong not because you don't love each other enough but because you love each other too much.

"I made you a great sandwich," you say, pulling away. "And you need more sunscreen, too. Your nose is getting red."

"Wait, really?"

You settle on the blanket and lay out your lunch. Steve pulls berries from his own bag and you eat in a silence that is only a little tense until he tosses a strawberry top into the grass and sighs.

"So, I'm guessing now is the time to talk about it?" he asks.

"Do you not want to?" You don't want this to be a fight but you don't know what else it's going to be.

"No, of course I do," he says. "We need to, clearly." He crosses his legs, his tanned stomach rolling in the way you adore over the waistband of his swim trunks. God, you love him. That's why you have to figure this out.

"We do," you say, squaring your shoulders. "I'll start." The frustration returns full force. "What the hell have you been up to, Steve? You're busy all the time and I don't need to know what you're doing because I do trust you. I just don't get why you can't tell me what you're doing on these weird errands and you won't talk to me about going on a trip or moving and I thought those were both things we wanted."

"I do want those things --"

"I've been looking into what we can afford in Hawkins and thinking about places we could go and I'm busy busting my ass at the library when I'm not at New-bee's so that we can live somewhere nice. And it just seems like you don't actually care that much about moving in together because --"

"I do, care," he says over you. "I just don't want to live in Hawkins."

Time slows down. Your heart thunders in your ears. "What did you say?"

Steve looks stressed. He reaches for you but you don't want to touch him so you cross your arms. A look of hurt crosses his face but it fades quickly.

"Let me explain," he says. "I can explain it all. If I had known you were feeling this way I would have much earlier. Why didn't you tell me?"

You shake your head to clear it. He doesn't want to live in Hawkins? Well, what does he want? Does he want you, still? "Because I didn't think you'd make me feel this way," you say hoarsely.

He takes a deep breath. "I wanted to go on a trip this summer, yeah. I thought it would be fun. And then, like, two months ago, I started thinking about how I didn't actually want to leave Hawkins, but I also don't want to keep living the same life in Hawkins, if that makes sense."

Two months? Two months? The timeline rolls around in your mind. He's been thinking about this for two months and he didn't tell you?

Steve is still talking, apparantly not noticing your distress. "And we talked about looking for a place so I realized that maybe a trip wasn't a good use of our money even though I know we both work hard and are doing fine. And then I was on a drive the weekend you went to visit your family, remember?"

You nod. You'd gone home for a weekend and missed him terribly the entire time. Steve taps your ankle and you realize he wants you to reply. His eyes are wide like he's scared and he runs a hand through his hair. What is he scared of? "Yeah," you say hollowly. "I called you every night."

"You did," he says. "The first night you left I went for a drive all around the county, basically. Just to get out of town but not go too far. To do anything other than mope at my place after we hung up. And that's when I found it."

You aren't following. He leans forward and taps your cheek with his knuckle. "The most perfect damn place in the world."

"Don't tell me you bought a piece of land, Steve," you say. It doesn't seem like a thing he'd do and wouldn't make sense if he's just going to leave.

Your boyfriend just smiles at you. "No," he says. "I didn't buy it. Well, not really."

"Not really?" you say, incredulous. What the fuck is going on?

"I'm almost done explaining, I swear, honey." He runs a hand through his damp hair again. "It's maybe half an hour out of Hawkins proper. It's a real nice little farmhouse with lots of open space around it and I saw it and it felt like I'd been struck by lightning, or something."

The pieces start to fall into place but you don't dare hope. "Dramatic," you say.

"Hey, don't make fun of me!" Your joke seems to encourage him. "It looked like no one lived there so I figured out what the address was and turns out that weird guy Murray owns it."

Murray? Who you say yesterday at the farmer's market and who listened to you tell him about your dream property? That he, apparently, happens to own?

"He's not that weird," you mumble.

"He is weird but I don't give a shit because he doesn't use it and after talked to me he agreed to rent it to us for barely anything if I fixed it up a little first. So that's what I've been doing."

Steve looks at you, eyes wide and waiting. You blink a few times and try to take it all in.

"So let me get this right," you say. "When you haven't been working at Sara's or spending time with me, you've been fixing up a house that you're going to rent from Murray? And you told me none of this? For two months?"

Steve frowns. "When you say it like that I sound like the bad guy. Also, we're going to rent it." He seems to realize you haven't agreed to anything by the way his face falls and okay, maybe you're being a little unfair. Yes, he lied, a little bit, but it wasn't anything harmful. You just got in your head about it.

"I just don't get why you didn't tell me," you say, feeling small. "I was starting to think that you didn't..."

"Didn't what?" Steve reaches for you and you let him take your hands this time.

"Didn't actually want to live together. Didn't want to go on a trip. I don't know." You sigh.

Steve looks genuinely upset at that you've thought this. "Honey," he says, voice rough. "All I want is to live with you. This house is for us. Now that I'm saying it out loud I'm realizing I probably should have told you that at the start."

A whole house. You've imagined your first place together to be a dinky apartment on the edge of town. But a house? It's a dream come true. You bring Steve's palm to your cheek and lean into it.

"I thought we were good at communicating," you say softly.

"Apparantly not," he says wryly. "I'm sorry for not telling you. I just...wanted to make it nice and official first, I guess." His thumb strokes your cheek. "But you should have told me how you were feeling a long time ago."

"Yeah," you agree. "I'm sorry. Would have saved me some heartache and you some hard work. I could have helped!"

"You still can," he says, eyes lighting up. "It's not quite done. I still need to paint the outside."

You scoot forward so you're almost in his lap. "Where did you learn to fix up a house, Steve?"

"Hopper," he says. He fiddles with the strap of your bathing suit. "He's been helping. So I really was doing Hopper stuff, kind of?" He licks his lips. Another nervous tell. "So, what do you think?"

"What do you mean?"

"About the house. I know it's a lot and we're still kind of young but renting means we can change our minds and --"

You put your head in your hands. "Steve," you say, voice thick. "I'm still getting over the fact that I thought you didn't want to move win with me and finding out that instead you've found us a house."

His hands circle your wrists. "Only to rent!" he says a little desperately. "I mean, you might not even like it!" You allow him to pull your palms away. Your nose starts to sting.

"I will," you say.

"Oh no," Steve says. "You look like you're going to cry." He pulls you fully into his arms and flops onto his back on the blanket, taking you with him. You land on his chest with an oof.

"I've been really scared," you say into his bare chest. "That you were going to leave and I don't know if I can follow you because I love it here even though I love you, too."

"I know," he says. "But I think this is perfect. It's close but not the place we've been. It's ours until we want something different. And I don't think I want to leave because I want to be wherever you are."

"It's so grown up." You sniffle and he rubs your back.

"I know," he sighs. You can feel his heartbeat under your cheek. "What the fuck."

"What the fuck," you echo and laugh wetly. "Is the yard big enough for a dog?"

"Sure is," he says. "Do you want to drive by when we head home?"

"I do." He hums.

You sit in silence for a few breaths. "Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you, but please tell me things next time, okay?" He looks down at you through long lashes.

"Deal," he says. "I love you back, but please tell me how you're feeling, okay?"

"Deal." You roll off of him and sit up. "Can we go see our house now?"

He grins toothily. "Hell yes we can," he says. "Well, it's not ours yet. Seriously, we have to work that out with Murray. I think we need a lawyer to draw something up? I don't really know how all that works --"

You kiss him in the middle of his sentence. "We'll figure it out."

"You're right," he says. He kisses you again. "We will."

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[steddieas-shegoes]

hi! i love your works so much and i have a request ^^ i wanted to ask if you could do a jealous and/or possessive eddie? maybe where steve and eddie are super close to finally admitting they like each other and just need one more push or something, or they're just newly dating. they're both at a gay bar, and steve's been receiving lots of stares and heated gazes from some of the ppl there? maybe a person was brave enough to try but eddie's right beside him watching the entire interaction.

i've come across a fair share amount of jealous/possessive steve in steddie stories and i wanted to see it being eddie for a change. tysm in advance and i can't wait to read the other requests with your amazing writing <3

I LOVE possessive Eddie!!! I really only see it in Kas!Eddie or vampire Eddie situations and I wish it was written more for just regular old human Eddie who just has entirely too much love for Steve to contain his emotions when someone else tries to make a move. I hope you like this little thing (2500 words!) I came up with and the other requests I've been putting out so far! - Mickala ❤️

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Robin convinced them she needed support.

Support Steve’s ass.

She was doing just fine from the moment they stepped in the door of this place.

So fine, in fact, she’d abandoned him and Eddie before they even got their first round of drinks brought to them.

Steve sat at the table with Eddie, awkwardly watching as people kept dancing and drinking and making out in dark corners of the bar.

He tried not to look too much, though. He didn’t want anyone to think he wasn’t comfortable here.

Quite the opposite, actually.

He’d been here a couple of times with just Robin: once before he figured out he was into men, once before he figured out he was into Eddie, and once more before this where he tried very hard to be into Eddie and failed.

But Eddie had insisted on coming when he overheard them talking about it, saying he hadn’t been here since high school and could use a night in a place where he could just be himself.

As if he wasn’t always obnoxiously (and beautifully) himself.

Robin had given Eddie a Look, but nodded in agreement, saying it would be awesome to have both her favorite guys there.

Which rubbed Steve a little wrong because he was her only favorite guy.

But he got over it because now Eddie was his only company, probably for the entire night going off of the way the girl with Robin was staring at her.

Ogling her.

Steve sighed. Eddie sighed.

They looked at each other and laughed.

“She do this to you every time?”

“No, usually we stick together. Must feel brave since you’re here with me.”

“Awww, she trusts me.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but there was probably more truth to that than he cared to admit.

Robin was often afraid to leave him alone, but she never hesitated if Eddie was with him.

He felt people staring at him, but he ignored it. He wasn’t here to find anyone and it would be silly to even try knowing that Eddie was right there.

But he’d be lying if he said it didn’t feel good to have people checking him out. He used to thrive on it in high school, feeling seen by anyone was better than being seen by no one.

Then, he hated it. He wanted to be invisible and he wanted everyone to focus on anyone and anything else in the room. He got his wish most of the time.

Until Eddie.

Eddie always included him in everything, pointing out when he was being quiet or moody, asking him questions to involve him in conversations, making sure he understood what Dustin was saying which was a challenge often.

He would touch his arm when he passed by him on the way to grab a drink from the kitchen or let their thighs touch on the couch on movie nights.

He let him come over after work on the nights he was too riled up, needing to let out some of his energy with a walk, but being too scared to do it alone.

So Eddie saw him, and made others see him, and he didn’t always love it, but he accepted it.

Tonight felt different, though.

All these eyes on him meant that people found him attractive, maybe wanted to dance with him or bring him home. If Eddie weren’t here, he’d maybe give it a shot with someone, try to find a way out of this hole he dug himself into with the first guy he’d admitted to himself he had feelings for.

But he also felt Eddie’s eyes on him, practically burning a hole through the side of his face every time he looked out at the crowd.

He felt heat crawling up his neck, to his cheeks.

Having all of Eddie’s attention was a lot for anyone, but especially Steve, who frequently thought about what it would be like to have Eddie’s attention on him in bed, or in the shower, or on the couch, or the pool, or-

“Did you want another drink?”

Steve looked down at the drink in his hand. He’d barely finished half of it, so he didn’t really know why Eddie was asking unless he just needed an excuse to get up.

“Um. No thanks. Probably should just have one anyway.”

“Sure.”

Eddie got up with his empty glass and started walking towards the bar.

Almost as soon as Eddie was gone, a taller man in a suit was taking his place at the table.

“Well, hi there, honey. Never seen you here before. First time?”

The guy was older, mid-thirties at least, and probably not the type of guy Steve would want to experiment with. But he was flirting, and he was kind of cute.

Steve could let himself enjoy a little casual flirting, right? It wouldn’t have to lead to anything.

“No, but I don’t come often.”

Steve rested his arms on the table, head in his hand. He grinned at the man, that Harrington charm practically beaming off of him.

“You could come tonight if you wanted to join me in the back.”

That was smooth. Sleazy, but smooth.

Steve didn’t drop his grin, but he shook his head.

“I don’t think I’m interested in just hooking up in the bathroom. Maybe you could buy me a drink?”

He had no intention of drinking another drink, but he figured this guy would lose interest if he showed he was more needy.

He was wrong.

The guy practically tripped over his feet to stand up from the booth.

“What would you like?”

“Oh. Uh.”

“He’s good, man. How about you go buy a drink for someone interested?”

Eddie came out of nowhere. Seriously, Steve had just seen him at the bar a few seconds before he spoke.

“Is this your boyfriend or something?”

Steve cleared his throat awkwardly as Eddie stood taller, more intimidating.

“Does it matter? I’m asking you nicely to go.”

“I don’t think it’s up to you. I asked him.”

Eddie looked like he wanted to punch the guy, and Steve could admit to himself silently that he wanted to see it.

But he didn’t quite understand why Eddie was reacting like this; He’d assumed Eddie would want to try to hook up with someone while he was here and wouldn’t want to spend all his time with Steve.

“Steve? Do you wanna get a drink with this guy?”

No, he didn’t. He hadn’t even before Eddie came back. But a part of him had to wonder if maybe Eddie’s reaction was just to protect Steve from an older guy.

“I actually have to drive us back home so I probably shouldn’t have another drink. Thanks though.”

The guy mumbled something before turning and leaving, shaking his head as he walked to the bar.

Eddie slid into the booth next to him instead of across from him, letting most of their sides touch.

Steve couldn’t help the way his body naturally curled into Eddie’s, the comfort and safety of his body drawing Steve in without effort.

It should have ended there. Steve should have just let himself stay rested against Eddie’s side until Robin was done.

He did for a minute, but then his brain decided it needed explanations.

“What was wrong with that guy buying me a drink?”

Eddie was quiet for a moment, his body tense against Steve’s.

“I just don’t think he was the right kind of person to be buying you a drink. You deserve better than that.”

Steve’s brows furrowed.

Eddie didn’t know the guy, he could’ve been really nice. Other than the propositioning as his first line, he seemed like he was willing to do whatever Steve wanted to get more time with him.

“Who is the right kind of person then?”

“Someone younger. Maybe someone who doesn’t wear a damn suit to a gay bar. This is a casual place, there’s no need to flaunt your super important job. Plus, he could see your drink was still half full, he should’ve known you didn’t want one.”

“You offered me a drink before you got up.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“Because I’m not trying to get you drunk to sleep with me.”

Yeah, and wasn’t that a shame?

Steve dropped it. It wasn’t worth arguing with Eddie and he didn’t want to ruin any of the fun they could have.

“Should we dance?”

Eddie pulled away and looked at him like he’d grown a second head.

“You want to dance with me?”

“Why not? We’ve been abandoned by Robin and the music isn’t bad.”

The music wasn’t bad to Steve. Eddie, however, was suffering through it as it was, and that was without having to dance to it.

“Pleeeeease?” Steve pouted at Eddie, eyes wide.

“You can’t make that face. It’s not fair.”

Steve kept making the face because being fair wasn’t something he cared about.

Eddie stood up, holding his hand out towards Steve to help him stand from the table.

Steve took it, ignoring the way he wanted to collapse against Eddie the second he stood up.

They made it to the dance floor, where a surprising amount of people were dancing in pairs and small groups, enjoying the fact that they could safely here.

Just when Steve turned to Eddie, the music changed to Head Over Heels by Tears For Fears.

Steve tried not to take it as a sign.

Eddie suddenly looked even more nervous, like he’d planned on maybe getting away with just jumping around to the music and now he couldn’t.

Just when Steve was going to give him an out, another guy, this one younger, but not as nice looking, wrapped his arm around Steve’s shoulder.

“How ‘bout we dance, sugar?”

The guy was drunk.

Steve wasn’t interested in ruining his favorite song by dancing with this drunk guy.

“He’s busy,” Eddie said firmly.

The guy backed up a bit, but still had his hand against Steve’s arm, resting there with enough of a grip to keep him upright.

“Sorry, you got somethin’ against me dancin’ with him?”

“Yeah, that’s why I just said he’s busy.”

Eddie pushed the guy’s hand off of Steve’s arm and put his own around Steve’s waist, pulling him against his side with no room for air or argument.

Steve tried to catch his breath, his heart skipping a beat and his lungs exhaling instead of inhaling.

“Maybe you should let him say if he’s busy or not.”

Steve was missing his favorite song to argue with a guy he wasn’t interested in when he could be dancing with Eddie.

Unacceptable.

“I’m dancing with him. Find someone else.”

The guy rolled his eyes and walked away.

Eddie turned and adjusted his arms so they rested on Steve’s hips.

Steve didn’t know what to do.

“Have you never slow danced before, King Steve?”

“Uh. Just once.”

“Oh? Let me help you then.”

Eddie took his hands in his own and gently placed them around his neck, pulling himself closer to Steve when his hands found his hips again.

“This okay?”

“Yeah.”

Steve wasn’t sure how this was happening, how this was real.

He just knew he didn’t want it to end.

He rested his head against Eddie’s shoulder, letting himself enjoy what would probably be his only chance at dancing with Eddie for the rest of his life.

“Why do you keep sending people away?”

Why was Steve determined to ruin tonight with his stupid fucking questions?

“What do you mean?”

“It just seems like you don’t wanna share.”

Eddie didn’t respond.

Steve looked up at him, but his face was hard to read in the darkness of the bar.

“Eds?”

“I don’t.” Eddie cleared his throat. “I don’t wanna share you. I like having you all to myself. Sorry if I’ve ruined your night.”

He started to pull away and Steve panicked. He couldn’t say that and then leave.

“What do you mean? You haven’t ruined anything. I wanted to spend it with you, anyways.”

Eddie was searching his eyes, looking for any sign of a lie.

“Steve, I-” The song changed, but it was another slow song. They kept slowly rocking and staring at each other. “I have to tell you something. You’re probably gonna hate me and wanna leave me here in Indy.”

Steve gulped. Could he possibly have feelings for Steve?

“I uh. I sent them away because I was jealous.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I love you so fucking much I don’t know what to do with it all the time! Sometimes I hide in the bathroom during movie nights so I can scream into the towels. Do you know how ridiculous that is? I’ve even been caught by Max before and she promised not to say anything if I gave her $20.”

“Oh.”

Oh? What the hell Steve, say something else.

“So, I get it if you hate me. I mean, I don’t know how this happened and I have no right to send potential dates away because I want to keep you to myself.”

Steve leaned up and placed a kiss on Eddie’s cheek.

“I’m glad you got jealous.”

Eddie was blushing now.

“What?”

“If you hadn’t been jealous, you probably wouldn’t have told me all this, would you?”

“No, I guess not.”

“You know what helps with jealousy?”

Eddie looked down at him, more confused than ever.

Steve didn’t wait for him to respond.

“Making out in the bathroom of a gay bar.”

Eddie’s eyes practically bugged out of his head as he registered what Steve was saying.

“You wanna do that? With me?”

“Well, I certainly don’t wanna do it with anyone else. And you won’t let me do it with anyone else. So maybe we should do it together.”

Eddie grabbed his wrist and wordlessly led them to the bathroom in the back of the bar.

It wasn’t empty, but the single stall was available and Eddie made it pretty clear what their intentions were when he dragged Steve right into it, closing and locking the door only a second before his hot lips were on Steve’s.

It was better than what Steve could have possibly imagined, but still not enough.

Now that he knew Eddie wanted him, he wanted everything Eddie could give him.

And Eddie seemed to want to give it all to him.

His lips were almost too much, but Steve couldn’t get enough.

They weren’t even in a bathroom anymore, floating high above the clouds with happiness and contentment.

Until a knock on the stall door nearly made Steve give himself another concussion.

“Dingus One and Dingus Two! Super happy for you both, but it’s time to go.”

“Shit.”

“What time is it?”

“It’s nearly one in the morning and we agreed to leave by midnight. I got distracted by boobies.”

“Don’t we all,” Steve said, as Eddie let out a loud laugh.

They opened the stall door and Robin sighed.

“Fix your hair. I’ll be at the car.”

Steve looked in the mirror as she left the bathroom, smirking at Eddie’s reflection behind him in a similar state of disarray.

“Okay?”

“So okay.”

“You owe me a dance.”

“What? Why? We danced!”

“But it got interrupted. And I wanna dance with you.”

Eddie sighed, but smiled fondly at Steve.

“I’ll dance with you whenever you want, sweetheart.”

[pompettepink]

Type of men NOT to date

Dating in the 2020's is so rough! It feels like so many people are just looking for hookups and too many women are getting forced into "situationships" in the hopes that "more" will come out of it, but "more" never happens. Ladies, save yourselves the heartache and leave these type of low level men ALONE

A man who asks "what you bring to the table"

He is thinking transactionally. He wants to know beforehand what act of service he can expect from you in the future. Whatever comes out of your mouth will be his checklist in the relationship and he WILL bring it up when you "fail to meet expectations".

A man who disrupts your peace

A man who is prone to fits of rage and refuses to seek help will take you down with him. He will actively work to destroy your self worth and possessions. Any man coming into your life MUST be giving you peace that is BETTER than the peace you find within yourself.

A man with low quality friends

There's a very high chance that if a man is in his mid to late 20s and is still friends with his highschool buddies they are actively holding him back. There needs to be far more substance in a male friendship than bonding over a band one time in a 10th grade science class. Having old time friends is amazing, but everyone in the friend group should be maturing at the same pace and having adult conversations and not just sharing their girlfriends nudes with the homies in the groupchat

A man who listens to Bro Podcasters

Self explanatory. There should be NO reason that a man sees value in anything a violent misogynist has to say. It is NOT NORMAL for a man to take lifestyle advice from broken men who are NOT living the lifestyle they're advocating for (monogamous long term relationship with the intention of marriage and providing for their wife and kids). Unless he is compiling information to loudly denounce those views and see those podcasters as an enemy of men, you have no business dating someone like that

A man who idolizes 50/50 relationships

Expecting your partner to go 50/50 with everything and anything is insecure and immature. In reality you can't ALWAYS split the bills. Sometimes things come up. Like card only payments, cash only payments, misplaced wallet, dead phone, payment deadline, accidents etc etc. If he expects every instance involving money to be split into two equal bills he WILL be resentful towards you if you fail to deliver. He should also be more than happy to spoil you when he can and pay in full

A man who struggles building relationships with women

You aren't going to be any different just because he's fucking you. And this isn't about a struggle that results from trauma (abusive mom). This is about ANY woman in his life. If he can't connect with his sisters and can't "really" explain "why", or if he's never had a female friend, that's a red flag. It's most likely that he can't build relationships with women who he isn't sexually attracted to, making him more likely to misconstrued any interaction with a pretty woman as grounds to cheat

An unkempt man

He doesn't need to be the world's best dresser, but he MUST care about his appearance. You two will be seen together constantly and in social settings others will view you as a single unit. You are doing a disservice to yourself by being with a man who has a hands-off attitude with the way he presents himself and always choices to go out with wrinkled stained clothes, dirty hair, a smelly outfit, and a wardrobe full of holes and filth

A man who moves too fast

Why is this man trying to get you into bed yet he doesn't even know your last name? Casual flings are totally fine and super appropriate for any adult to be a part of. But if you're looking to seriously date you HAVE to be picky. Even if your connection is magnetic off the bat restraint should be shown until the commitment is there. If you tell him you only want to have sex with a committed man and he gets mad, pressures you, or asks you to be official on the spot and then have sex afterwards, he just wants to orgasm, nothing more

A man who's all talk and no action

If a man talks about how close he feels to you, but doesn't try to commit, he's keeping you away from love. If a man romantically messages you everyday, but doesn't take you on a date, he's a pen pal. If he's always talking about going for a big promotion, but doesn't put in the work the position requires, he's just a job holder. Actions speak louder than words and if he wanted to, he would

A man who struggles with handling you

Far too many men couple up with talented, sexy, smart, extrovert women, then try to change them when they become official because they can't keep up with her. If she was a sexy dresser BEFORE you started dating, you should expect the same WHILE you're dating. If she was always having deeply intellectual conversations BEFORE you started dating, you should expect the same WHILE you're dating. If she had a large group of friends that she loved hanging out with BEFORE you started dating, you should expect the same WHILE you're dating. If he can't keep up with you then he shouldn't take up space in your circle

A man who is incompetent with chores

Need I say more? Chores aren't rocket science. If he can't cook a meal from start to finish you'll be forced to be his personal chef. If he can't do a load of laundry you'll be forced to be his laundromat. If he doesn't know how to sweep, mop, or vacuum you'll be forced to be his maid. Never choose to be a servant when well rounded men exist in the dating pool

A man who doesn't boast about you

He should be proud to have you as his partner. Everyone in his life should know that you two are dating. He should want to walk behind you and open doors for you so that everyone can see you before they see him. He should always want to hold your hand and feel disgusted when other people hit on him. If he says he "lives a private life" and doesn't want to post you on his social media or be seen kissing you in public it's because he doesn't want his wife and other girlfriend to catch him cheating

Never let anyone convince you that it's impossible to find a man of quality because "your standards are too high". You're the prize and for your sake you should never expect the bare minimum for love

[l0stfoster]

Hey its paul anon again (thanks for the name 🫡) sorry ive been bombarding you with questions but I absolutely love this au and i love everyone to bits

So, can you go into more detail about darry and paul . Like, as much info abt them as you can throw at me those two are my boys . Like how did they officially get together , how did Paul go abt moving in and whats that situation like .

Also, when Paul is like kicked out and cut off from the family, does he end up just,, losing everything? I mean like, did his parents even let him get his belongings or did all he have was the clothes on his body and trauma. I would imagine his parents had control over his bank account too so they like shut that down too so he’s out here broke as fuck JHSJSHSJ sorry im just yapping

Anon never apologizes for asking I'm so open to answering them bc I love this au and I adore that so many people like it too. Parry fans are eating good bc the writers love Cursed!Parry just as much. I'll answer your questions ab them before I yap. To be totally honest, those two did not ever really make it official. Doing that requires two things they lack; emotional openness and no internalized homophobia. They both told themselves for the longest time that it wasn't a relationship... even after they started saying "I love you" in Latin and Fae respectively (Paul knows Latin bc spells, Darry knows Fae for obvious reasons), or when each other realized managed to figure out WHAT the other was saying,, or when they started sharing a bed and waking up intertwined,,, or when they started using far too affectionate pet names,,, or when things became far too intimate for it to be casual. They never actually make it official, one day they just slip into calling each other their boyfriends. The most official it ever got was when they flat out went "Oh yeah, we're dating" to the gang. The gang was making bets on that, by the way. Pony said weeks, Soda said a month, Steve said two, Two-Bit said a year. Ace got it right down to the date and time, nobody knows how she did it. They have no anniversary because they have no fucking idea when they really "got together". Paul never truly moved in either, he kinda just went from crashing there whenever his car wasn't an option, to taking up the couch almost every night, to sleeping in Darry's room, and eventually, it was just an unspoken thing that he was officially a member of the household. They have to kick him out for the day whenever the social worker comes to check on things, cause Darry can NOT take the risk of some kind of bad outcome to his mere existence. OK MORE GENERAL PARRY - Being with Paul reminds Darry that he's only 20 and still allowed to be something other than "the adult" sometimes. That brings a whole KIND of happiness that he can't describe. Dude's tail is fucked up due to physical trauma but that bitch wags so fast with Paul. - Darry on the other hand just generally grounds Paul. He's so used to the way of life that was on the west side that everything going on there is overwhelming sometimes. - They're very bad with vocal I love you's in English but they will say that shit ALL the time in different languages or through their actions. - Uh after Paul got jumped and had his letterman jacket stolen, Darry gave him an old denim jacket of his own bc Paul hated having his arms out in the open. - Pony audibly gags every time they're lovey-dovey. He's not homophobic unless you're Paul and Darry. - They'd shotgun cigarettes when they were younger (and the only reason they don't anymore is the account of Darry wanting to keep the fact that he smokes every rare occurrence on the down low) - Darry's purring has healing properties like a cat's purr (all of the brothers' have it actually) so this mf will just drag Paul down to cuddle and purr. - They are.. so down bad for each other. Darry does anything and Paul swoons, and they've def had an interaction that goes something like this: Paul, knowing Darry cant lie: "How do you feel about me right now?" Darry, immediately: "I'd marry you if I could." Paul & Darry:

As for being kicked out, Paul's parents quite literally just. Booted him, barely a warning. One minute he's arguing back for the first time since their keeping up appearances at the police event, and the next he's being dragged by the arm and shoved out of the house with threats of being killed if he dares to show his face back there. Just like that, all of it's pretty much gone; save for the clothes on his back and whatever he'd been carrying-- which was really only his car keys and his wallet. He was sleeping in his car for a bit until Two and Pony vaguely got on his ass because Darry's calls were going to voicemail and he was stupid enough to let it slip that he wasn't living at home anymore. Pony, being Pony, snitched. Can't have shit with that little gremlin around- so after finding his dumbass after having had the equivalent of an aneurism over suddenly being ghosted by Paul, Darry extended the offer for Paul to stay with them. He doesn't mind it being a permanent solution, but Paul is.. less fond for a few reasons; so he tries not to impose much while he looks for work. (He does eventually get something sorted out, so yippie! Helps with the bills what a guy) FORGOT TO ADD. He sneaks home at one point to try and get some of his shit because he knows where the spare key is, but gets cold feet at the door because he genuinely doesn't know if his dad will keep up with that threat.

[avelera]

Oh GOD you, too, are an online lectures geek pls consider this your invitation to talk about favs--ones that stuck with you, current obsessions--the more the better! In trade, I'll tell you the two things I'm currently adoring: Yale's Open Course podcast on The Civil War to Reconstruction done by David Blight (man forgot more than ten other civil war historians know even if he mumbles *constantly*) and A History of Christianity by Diarmaid MacCulloch (so! worth the Prime BBC free trial <3)

Hiya! Don't mind if I do!

So 99% of the lectures I've watched lately are on the Great Courses Plus which was recently and stupidly renamed "Wondrium", which I find profoundly stupid because instead of just saying, "Hey, check out the Great Courses, yeah you can kinda guess what the streaming service offers," I have to instead explain what this nonsense term "Wondrium" means, ANYWAY, they've got lectures about basically everything.

Essentially, it's Netflix but for college lectures. YouTube has become so unreliable as far as what's actual information and what's completely made up or even racist conspiracy theory BS that I find it completely untrustworthy. Also, most documentaries are trying to prove something new, or offer a new angle on something, OR they're SO rudimentary and 101 that even for topics I know less about in history I tend to already know everything they're going to say.

So I pivoted to college lectures because 1) it's a whole series so like, dozens of hours I can just throw on in the background while doing something mindless and 2) I know it's going to be trustworthy, reliable, and provide me a baseline on a topic instead of some "new controversial spin" on it. Like, goddammit, sometimes I just want to better understand the history of Ancient Egypt, not your stupid theory about how they were secretly all space aliens or that we've got the carbon dating all wrong or whatever made up nonsense.

So, here's a list of some of my favorites!

Hannibal: The Military Genius Who Almost Conquered Rome - I consider myself about as near an expert as a non-academic can get on Rome and this lecture actually taught me some things, which is rare, so I recommend it as a fantastic deep dive!

How the Crusades Changed History is a pretty good short version that I recommend to anyone who enjoyed The Old Guard's Nicky and Joe BUT, for the best Crusades lecture, I'd recommend this History of the Crusades podcast. Sharyn Eastaugh is not just insanely informative, but her dry wit made me laugh out loud at least once an episode at the sheer hapless ineptitude of the Crusaders.

In the Wake of the Plague is a fantastic new lecture by Wondrium, the lecturer is amazing and it provides a lot of objective insights into how humans react to plagues that is VERY relevant to current events, BUT their lecture on **The Black Death in general is the one that got me obsessed with their lecture series. I watched it in the first week of Covid lockdown and let me tell you, having this super in-depth, objective look into how people behaved during the Black Death was incredibly valuable (and chilling) going into those years because it all played out with astonishing similarity. Also, anything by that lecturer, Dorsey Armstrong, is awesome. She's a Medievalist of the highest order. I also recommend her lecture on King Arthur.

**The Birth of the Modern Mind: The Intellectual History of the 17th and 18th Centuries - this one wins the award for "Lecture I thought most likely to bore me to tears that ended up being the single most fascinating I've heard in YEARS." Seriously, the way it explores the evolution of how we think in the modern era, through the philosophers who first conceived of these ideas, was jaw-droppingly fascinating. I also recommend it to writers of historical fiction and fantasy for a crash course, by proxy, of how to write people who think differently than you.

The Other Side of History: Daily Life in the Ancient World - I once had beef with a post here on Tumblr that claimed that academic Classicists don't care about slaves or normal people during the Roman Empire, which is just profoundly absurd. I pointed out this lecture to them if they actually wanted to learn more about the subject instead of complaining that an art history professor may not have been prepped for a lecture about the lives of enslaved people in Ancient Rome. If that is a subject of interest, this lecture is great.

The Real History of Pirates - a must-listen for OFMD fans who want to get an introduction to historical pirates and the history of pirates in literature, which "Our Flag Means Death" owes as much if not more to than the historical figures.

**Turning Points in Middle Eastern History - One of the first lectures I listened to and still one of my enduring favorites. It's the first one I picked up for writing my Old Guard fic, Lights Out, when I wanted to write Joe from a more informed angle and I learned so much.

Understanding Japan: A Cultural History - One of my favorite lectures based on format, the lecturer picks a literary work or cultural concept as the entry point to explore the timeline of Japanese history. It's a fantastic way to give a wider and more holistic look at each era, pairing it with a cultural touchstone.

Shout-out to "The Mysterious Etruscans" because I just think they're neat. The lecturer is also very good and I highly recommend his lecture on ancient cities as well which taught me a lot that I didn't know.

Also a shout out to, "Warriors, Queens, and Intellectuals: 36 Great Women before 1400" for its subject and the lecturer who is great and she also has a really fascinating talk about the history of Spain.

Ok, I THINK that's some of the top ones! ;D

[terminalblue]

Time for some theorycrafting about Draag.

Hello. Hi. It seems we're in the MCR cycle of cryptic messages leading up to Something Big, so this period of time wouldn't be complete without some outlandish and far-too-long theories from music-starved fans. We all know by now that they're going on tour in America, a complete surpise to many in how they're "digging up" The Black Parade 17 years after loudly proclaiming that it was Dead. What are they doing? Are they becoming a Greatest Hits band? Is creativity dead. No, not at all my friends. Rather the opposite. This is all just part of a grander plan. And when I mean all, I mean all. Everything going back even possibly to the occult/witch era where the reunion was first announced.

Let's first consider the most recent announcement, the tour, and the trailers coming out for it. The sheer level of lore that got dropped out of absolutely nowhere. A whole world being opened up in front of us with the nation of Draag. An industrial nation led by one 'Immortal Dictator' seventeen years after the Black Parade was 'sent to the MOAT', whatever that means, I still have no idea. But what is abundantly clear is that this specific backdrop to present the tour in is explicitly a sequel to the story of The Black Parade, not an AU, not a prequel, not an afterword, all that stuff. A sequel. A paper-white fascist kingdom reinstating a beloved old band to perform on behalf of the state.

How did this dictator rise to power? Usually such things happen during times of great peril and uncertainty for a country, searching for a strong and charismatic figure to lead them through the worst times. An event that led to The Swarm, perhaps? Flies are typically related to death and disease, and what happens in the world that causes such widespread death and disease if not war?

Now The Black Parade, the album, is on it's surface a story about the death of a cancer patient, but there are many, many overt references to war all throughout the album. Much of the aesthetic of the album reflects these time periods, The Civil War, WW1, and WW2. Now those last two can be valid perspectives going forwards, but I'm going to focus on the latter date of 1945, the end of the Second World War. 17 years after that is the year 1962, famously the year of the Cuban Missile Crisis, the absolute height of the Cold War where the world was on the brink of destruction. Now this alt-history is likely not 1:1 and the dates might not line up exactly to what I've put, but what I'm saying is that I believe this is some sort of parallel to real life, with the Cold War having 'boiled over' into a Hot War, nuclear armaggedon ensuing.

Is The Swarm supposed to be literally, or metaphorically, nuclear extinction? Hard to say personally. But if we go by the established representation before, then it would actually fit better as a follow-up to such a thing, after the dust has settled. Because of their relation to death and disease, flies are also harbingers of evil. Going by the Merriam-Webster dictionary definition of 'Swarm', it is "a great number of honeybees emigrating together from a hive in company with a queen to start a new colony elsewhere". Sounds an awful lot like the start of a nation, huh? One that begins in the wake of worldly annhiliation?

The Swarm, in this sense, is this nation of Draag, or at least the ideology of it, a great many people falling in line with evil because the world is broken and that's the easiest solution. Let somebody else lead you, even if they have the worst intentions. One that people continue to have to resist the call for, wondering if falling in line is easier than fighting for what you believe in, even if it doesn't feel like it matters.

This is exactly what "The Foundations of Decay" is all about, the sheer ease that is giving up and not doing anything, yet it's a song that is kind of arguing with itself about doing what is easier vs what is right. Ending on a note of the main voice yelling at itself to get up, coward.

How does that fit into this new lore? Well, this time period is named 'The Concrete Age', and what is built from concrete? Well, a lot of things, but one of those things happens to be foundations, a lot of the time. I believe The Foundations of Decay is set after The Concrete Age, after Draag has fallen. It's an ending.

Because evil eats itself eventually, fascism is self-defeating. You could say, in a sense, that Draag is a Paper Kingdom. Grand and beautiful, but incredibly fragile. One spark is all it could take for it to all burn down, and really it's only a matter of time. Leaving nothing but Foundations of Decay. But what would exist in the settled dust is hope, perserverence, a chance to fix your heart, to let it all wash away, instead of simply laying down in the foundations. Don't repeat the mistakes of the past. MCR5, which I'm fairly certain is real at this point, may follow the Black Parade in documenting this nation. A beloved band rather abruptly reinstated by a fascist nation, that likely exiled/killed them in the first place, to twist its nostalgia into its own messages and propaganda. People were confused as to why MCR were announcing TBP in full again rather than something new, but that's the point. Because fascism is inherently unimaginative and anti-art. They can only steal from what has already been created and claim it as their own. TBP will play their great album to huge fanfare, before moving onto their 'second' album centered around the nation of Draag under orders of the Immortal Dictator.

But The Black Parade are a band that exist within death, taking souls through to the other side after ferrying them back through their lives. They themselves could be considered harbingers of death. So to me, it would make sense that this would be an album that follows the height and subsequent burning of Draag, as its image falls apart and collapses due to its own ignorance.

[tryanmybest]

whatever's supposed to happen in season 3 aside, i'm delusional

please enjoy silly ideas about what muriel, crowley, maggie, and nina get up to while aziraphale's gone :)

maggie and nina RUSH to crowley once they find out aziraphale left

both of them know the feeling of rejection and they support him as much as they can

they give him helpful breakup advice and check up on him periodically

over time, the three become good friends

maggie and nina are endlessly curious about the whole heaven/hell/angel/demon/universe thing and crowley answers what questions he can

since crowley's still not bound to hell, the three of them just vibe most of the time

muriel joins them on occasion, when they're not reading a new book

crowley, despite maggie and nina telling him it might be better to keep his distance from the shop for a bit, checks in on muriel and teaches them how to properly take care of the bookshop

as in, don't sell any of the books, don't rearrange any of the books, close and open whenever you want, etc.

occasionally, muriel, maggie, and nina will organize sort of "storytimes" where crowley shares some stories from his past

it starts with the ones without aziraphale. it's still a bit too raw to tell those.

but, eventually, he tells the story of elspeth in edinburgh. or the lost unicorn on noah's arc (which maggie swears she knew were real this whole time)

maggie and nina also teach muriel how to properly blend in with humans

they're not the BEST at it, but they're good enough that they can go get hot cocoa from nina's shop without people staring at them

crowley teaches muriel how to perform miracles. although, angelic miracles are just a bit different than demonic ones. so they both kind of figure it out together

muriel ends up miracling aziraphale's wardrobe to fit them. those are the human clothes they have access to, afterall.

and, besides, the style suits them.

crowley smiles at the look and doesn't comment on it. and nina gives him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

muriel shares the stories they've read with maggie, who listens enthusiastically

nina suggests muriel write a story of their own

regular customers at give me coffee or give me death now recognize the bookshop owner often in the corner pondering a laptop

nina taught them how to use it. crowley whispers to them that if they tell the laptop what to do with a bit of miraculous energy, it's a lot easier

maggie shows muriel some music. it's so much better than the celestial harmonies that they've had to hear for all these years

they end up liking everything they're shown. from aziraphale's old classical records they found in the bookshop to the queen that plays from crowley's car

muriel adores the bentley. and the bentley eventually warms up to them.

crowley takes muriel to see more of earth, once

well, more of england anyway

there's one time during the drive that the queen melts into an unfamiliar song. something about angels and nightingales.

crowley puts a fist to the dash and it switches back to queen before muriel can grasp what it is

while they're far from the city, the stars are much brighter

muriel hasn't had the chance to see them until then

and crowley tells them another story. about nebulas and galaxies and how they're made. and how gorgeous they really are up close.

muriel doesn't understand why crowley gets so sad talking about something he loves

sometimes residents of the street ask where mr. fell went

maggie and nina will respond that maybe you should mind your own business and they're sure he has his reasons

muriel will smile and say that he's gone on to heaven. then get confused when people offer their condolences

crowley doesn't say anything.

ms sandwich can put together that aziraphale and crowley were an item, though.

and she can certainly see that they aren't anymore

eventually, after a few months, maggie and nina start officially dating

muriel happens to be reading some of aziraphale's romance novels, and they find nina and maggie's relationship utterly adorable

if they ever mention as much tho, nina will tell them to piss off while maggie gets flustered

once, muriel asks maggie and nina when they figured out that they had feelings for each other

crowley is around at that time

muriel, excited by maggie and nina's answers turns to crowley and starts to ask him when he realized he was in love with aziraphale. but they trail off

nina had told them that crowley's not great at talking about aziraphale all the time

they have to wait until he brings it up, okay?

muriel apologizes, but crowley waves a hand

he explains the experience of the first rain

and maggie GASPS

"the rain! back when you were trying to get me and nina together! that was YOU."

crowley just offers a half-smirk and a thumbs-up

that's all ive got for now.

[canonicallyobserving911]

100% agree with not wanting buck to talk to temu about The Will! 📢📢📢

It would give temu and bommy relationship a significance and focus that is unearned and undeserved and I simply don't want him to have! Same reason i wouldn't want temu to get killed off, and i don't want them to break up over the issue of wanting/not wanting to have kids 🙄 i don't want bommy to be anywhere near having that kind of conversation

Ajfjgkdksk i swear, if they confirmed in canon that temu was trying to date eddie and just settled for buck 😂😂😂 i would never ask for anything more in life lol so unfortunately it's not going to happen. But OH it would be so satisfying!

As it seems they're not going to address temu's past, I'd be happy if they broke up for some really superficial shallow reason, which would just underscore how insignificant and tenuous the relationship actually is.

Good day @blutterlie and thank you for the ask.

[Link to my original post here.]

You're correct and I agree with your assessment because Buck and Temu talking about Eddie's will and it being a reason for them breaking up would give the "Bummy" relationship too much of everything. It would be like you said, both undeserved and unearned and IMO, T*mmy isn't a significant enough side character to be included in that intimate part of Eddie's and Buck's relationship.

Case and point, Eddie's NEVER told anyone on screen other than Buck that he added him to his will as Chris' legal guardian but he didn't tell either of his two on screen love interests. He never told Ana and he never told Marisol. Also, Buck never told Taylor or Natalia so why would he tell T-Rex? He shouldn't because he doesn't deserve to know. T*mmy's a plot device just like all the others which makes him that much more insignificant.

Furthermore, Buck hasn't told Maddie, his own sister and he hasn't told Bobby either. I know a lot of fanfic writers indulge and include Eddie telling Bobby in their fics for emergency purposes but that's not CANON, it's FANON. Do I suspect the 118 knows how important Chris is to Buck? YES! The shooting is evident of that since no one, not even Bobby questioned Buck being the one to tell Chris what happened even though Eddie was dating Ana at the time. But I don't think they know Buck's in Eddie's will and I don't think the Diaz parents know either. Isabel might know and I believe that's because Eddie's close to his abuela but I don't think anyone else does. Also, KR stating Chris knows about "the will" doesn't make narrative sense because if he did, he would have called Buck when he was upset with Eddie instead of his grandparents like he did in season 4. Actually, he ordered an Uber with Eddie's phone and ran away to Buck's loft and that was before Eddie was shot.

As far as the breakup of Buck and Tonsilitis is concerned, I WANT T*MMY TO ADMIT HE TRIED TO DATE EDDIE FIRST TOO! It's my villain origin story because it would highlight how ridiculous the writing was handled last season. I know it won't happen either but it would be so fantastic. I wrote a fanfic about it, it felt great and I also let Eddie tell Buck he deserved better than a dismissive asshat who doesn't listen to him and who only wants him for his body.

I'm sure the writers won't go there because they don't want to defame Tonka Toy's character but they sure didn't have a problem letting him be complicit when Gerrard's 100-year-old ass was saying racist and bigoted comments to Hen and Chimney.

At this point, I don't care how and why they break up, I just want T.K. 2.0 GONE ASAP and I don't want Buck getting advice from someone telling him to stick it out🙄. It's time for Buck to be single so he can figure out he was trying to get Eddie's attention this whole time and not T-Rex's. There's no more time for doubling down on the ridiculousness of these one dimensional and lackluster relationships for Buck or Eddie.

As always, thank you for the ask and have a great day.

[blush-bblushing]

Uhh first time writing for tumblr in awhile

Blush blush guys headcanons! (Pt1)

Cw: none. All fluff!

Characters: nimh, volks, kelby, eli

Hc's under the cut

Nimh

Due to his heart condition I think he grew up afraid to do anything fun. By that I mean he avoided scary movies, rollerblading, most theme park rides, etc. He still had fun in his own way. But as an adult, he tries to test what he can/cannot do. For example: going rollerblading with marshmallow/mc. Sure, he may need to rest every 5 or so minutes. And that's ok. He still gets to experience something new. All while doing it with someone he trusts.

He has a habit of holding his hands when nervous. Like when he's feeling anxious, he'll rub his thumb on his palm. It became a habit because his family did that for him as a kid. Sometimes he'll do it to marshmallow to when they hold hands. Regardless of if they're nervous or not.

When shopping for clothes, blankets, or anything with fabric, he has to check the fabrics texture. Nimh can be jumpy at times. And sometimes certain fabrics feel like a spider touching him if he forgets the texture. So to avoid that scare, he'll lean towards softer fabrics. Obviously, not everything he has is soft. It's just the majority for his sake

This is a lot more simple- I firmly believe he watched shows like strawberry shortcake, Teddy ruxpin, bear in the big blue house, etc. All of these shows are still a comfort to this day. If he feels particularly anxious he'll watch an episode or two to calm down.

Volks

Volks is pretty good at braiding hair. During childhood, he would play with his mom's hair. Mainly stemming from boredom. This eventually led to his mother showing him how to braid. To this day, he can do multiple braid styles. His personal favorite is a fish tail braid.

Obviously he isn't a touchy person. However, if the stars align, he'll rest his head on marshmallows' shoulder. Or even rarer: he'll hug marshmallow from behind. Just don't bring attention to it. Or else he'll quickly jump up and stop. It's not an issue he has with his partner. Simply Volks trying to be more affectionate.

When he first became a wolf, Volks accepted his fate. He didn't ignore the existential horror of the situation. He just didn't care too much about it. It gave him the freedom to act in ways he couldn't before. To elaborate on this: he has a lot of self enforced "rules" for himself. Like societal expectations but with stuff he made up. After the whole wolf & marshmallow thing, he has far less of these. (Men will literally become an animal instead of going to therapy/j)

With it being revealed in his coffee date that he sometimes sings: he likes laufey. Her music makes him feel comfortable with the idea of being soft. If one were to catch him washing the dishes alone (and with his phone on), he'll be singing "from the start". He knows most of her songs by heart.

Kelby

Ugh. He's underrated. So these are to give his fans some food.

As a result of his active lifestyle, Kelby doesn't play videogames. He's tried them a few times. He sadly doesn't see the appeal.... except for one. Marshmallow showed him animal crossing. And if you've played it, you'd know there's a whole subset of characters who work out. Since he first played it, he'll occasionally ask Marshmallow to check on them. He wants to encourage his digital workout buddies :]

He doesn't have nuch of a wardrobe. It's mainly sport uniforms and hoodies. As a joke I like to think that any exceptions to this wardrobe were either 1) "forced" (asked him to try the clothes on) upon by marshmallow or 2) he realized that the event he's going to wouldn't appreciate him wearing a basketball uniform.

Kelby didn't always work out. In early childhood he did typical kid stuff. Eat a bunch of candy, watch TV, etc. Until he got around 8 years old. When he thought it'd be fun to try out his dads workout equipment. After a few days, he was caught lifting his dad's 5lbs weights. Since then his parents encouraged his efforts. And he's been athletic ever since! He still appreciates dessert or binge watching a TV show about once or twice a week. To treat himself after some hard work.

There's memes about guys using 10 in one shower products. One would think Kelby is the same. Surprisingly enough, he isn't. He takes special care of his hygiene. Hair thickening shampoo & conditioner and fancy shower gels are only a couple of examples. He doesn't like the assumption that he only cares about working out. Self care involves everything about the body. Not only the aesthetics of it.

Eli

Had a massive vocaloid phase. (They call it a phase but he literally has a couple miku figures in his room. They bought the newest figure only a year before marshmallow came) he and Marshmallow have already planned on visiting miku Expo. So long as they bring back the holograms.

Because of how varied Eli's fashion sense is, he will occasionally chose to wear something nobody expects. One day, they wore an outfit similar to poe's. Most of the other guys' reactions consisted of "who are you and what have you done with Eli?!" (Poor guy only wanted to dress up :[ ) luckily, since then, the others have gotten used to it. Some of them even encourage it if it helps them express themselves better.

As most know, he doesn't I love you much. That doesn't mean he can't show genuine affection. Say hypothetically marshmallow were to have a bad day. They'd come home to not only some new clothes in their room, but also their favorite food and a comfort movie/show/videogame on the TV. From experience, Eli finds gestures like this to be more meaningful. Proof that someone does genuinely care. And that all their words aren't superficial.

And for the final headcanon of this post: Eli always has some sort of makeup product or accessory to share. You never know when a style emergency may happen! Someone who cares for their looks (like he does) is bound to worry about others. You need a hairtie? Gotchu. Never wore makeup before but wanna try? Already have the bag out. A seam tripped in your favorite shirt? Somehow a sewing kit is ready??? They have your back in nearly anything your style may struggle with

That's all for now. If I remember to do so later, I'll share the ones I have for the other guys. Hope this was at least entertaining to read