#when i say slightly i mean slightly

[allfortzu]

hand in hand

-- nayeon / tzuyu. 2.7k, fluff, slightly suggestive ; celebrity!tzu. MEN DNI

to be in love is to know love.

nayeon loves being in love. 

she loves that fluttering feeling in her chest; loves how it makes her heart soar and skip and all of the stupid things that come with it.

how her mind ever only wanders to one person now, and how she tries to distract herself from it only to be distracted by it. 

really, nayeon loves knowing that she's in love. 

kookeu must feel it too, because he huffs and leaps off her lap, unable to ignore her tapping foot. 

if it were any other day, she'd pout and wail for him to come back — but right now, she's brimming with so much giddiness she can barely fathom any emotion that isn't pure excitement. 

when tzuyu texts back, nayeon's heart bursts. 

tzuyu

almost done with the shoot :)

call her lovestruck or smitten; deeply infatuated, even — nayeon is all of these things at once. 

she grabs her keys in one hand, her racing heart in the other, and sprints out the door. 

i'm here, i'm here. 

she probably breaks every speed limit on her way over and then some, and when breaking speed limits is no longer an option, she risks a parking ticket and runs the rest of the way. 

the path is dark and they’re all covered up, but nayeon wouldn't be nayeon if she didn't know what true love looked like. 

“tzuyu.”

she's clad in a cap and mask, hidden from prying eyes. though, nayeon couldn't possibly miss that familiar shine. 

“unnie!”

she isn't sure how many steps it takes for her to reach tzuyu because her legs move before she can start counting. nayeon pummels into tzuyu with a puff. they both stumble with the force, but tzuyu keeps her stance steady enough to engulf nayeon just as forcefully right back. 

they don't kiss, not yet; nayeon throws her arms over tzuyu's shoulders, and tzuyu gathers her up in kind, laughing, chest fluttering. 

she inches down the brim of her cap when nayeon presses eager lips to her cheek, over her mask. the polyester is cold and rough, nothing like tzuyu's skin, much to nayeon's dismay, but it is enough. tzuyu giggles, shy and slightly wary; nayeon nuzzles in anyway. 

“hi to you, too, stranger,” tzuyu muses. “were you waiting for long?” 

nayeon buries her nose into tzuyu’s neck. it was a little long, but she'd be willing to wait longer if need be, if it was for tzuyu, so — “not at all,” she says. “you finished early today.” 

tzuyu's eyes curve, crinkling adorably at the corners. “well, i had very important things to do after.” 

“that so?” nayeon beams. “what kind of important things?” 

“you know…” tzuyu drawls.

“do i now?” 

“yeah,” tzuyu drops her voice. “like… kissing my girlfriend, and all that.” 

nayeon laughs. “you make it sound so scandalous.” 

“some people think it is,” tzuyu says, and nayeon knows she's right. at this point, they've been standing here hugging for so long even this might be scandalous. “i do really want to kiss you now, though.”

nayeon grins her bunny-toothed grin, affection blossoming under her skin and a giggle bubbling in her throat. if anything good could come out of being apart for longer than either of them want, it's that tzuyu's always terribly needy by the end of it — the kind of needy nayeon knows tzuyu only feels for her; the kind of silly attachment she can't say she doesn't adore or absolutely love reciprocating. 

“what happened to taking me out on a date first?” nayeon jabs playfully. 

tzuyu tightens her embrace, a little pleading, but still complying. “okay, dinner date first. then kisses…… then i’m staying over at yours, right?” 

nayeon's expression softens. “i could stay over at yours, too — if it’s easier,” she suggests. 

tzuyu has been talking about this since the day she left for her overseas shoot, but nayeon always feels like her place is lacking. tzuyu’s penthouse is bigger and nicer, and she can't bear keeping her away from her home any longer than work has. 

“you probably miss home.”

“no,” tzuyu insists. “i missed you. and i like your place much, much more.” 

nayeon laughs. “my dingy little one-bedroom apartment?” 

“it's not dingy,” tzuyu frowns sharply. “It's cosy; much cosier than my empty shell of one.” she leads them on their way, walking in the vague direction where nayeon came from and trusting nayeon to guide her if she strays. “and it smells like you.” 

“it smells like me?”

“yeah,” tzuyu says. she slips a hand into nayeon's, then tucks them into her coat pocket. “like home.” 

it's a little too warm for the weather, but nayeon thinks tzuyu is wonderfully lovely for it all. 

//

in the car, tzuyu gets a call. 

nayeon watches her face fall, and she knows why it does.

“it's my manager,” tzuyu announces. she picks the call up anyway. 

nayeon has never been around to hear tzuyu speak to her manager before — they're always talking in hushed voices and different rooms when nayeon's around. she's met her manager briefly, in between dropping tzuyu off at her place or picking tzuyu up from a shoot, but never any longer. 

in the span of two minutes, nayeon realises why tzuyu has never tried introducing them, and why tzuyu never talks to her manager when nayeon's around.  

“i don't care if you think i shouldn't be dating anyone right now,” tzuyu hisses into her phone. “i told you i'm taking a break this week, so i am. you can waste your time waiting for me outside my door, i don't care.” 

nayeon can't hear the other side of the conversation, but by that point, she decides it might be in her best interest to simply tune out the rest. 

when tzuyu hangs up, she tosses her phone to the backseat. 

nayeon debates saying something, but tzuyu speaks up first. 

“sorry.”

at this time of the night, the roads are empty, so nayeon chances a glance at tzuyu. “what for?” 

“you shouldn't have had to hear that,” tzuyu says. “you know i love you, right?” 

nayeon wishes she had more comforting words, but all she can think to say back is: “yeah, i know. and i love you, too.” 

she takes tzuyu’s hand and hopes it’s enough. 

“do they… do they know you're with me?” 

“i’m sure they could tell.” 

“you don't have to force yourself to meet me if it gets you in trouble, you know?”

the grip on nayeon’s hand tightens. “don’t say that — i want to do this. and i don't care if it gets me in trouble.” 

nayeon squeezes back. “but i worry.”

it's not like she never knew this was going on behind the scenes — it was something that was implied the second tzuyu decided to enter this line of work, anyway — but she didn't think it would be so prevalent; that there would be people pestering tzuyu and watching her every move, even those who were meant to be on her side. and she didn't realise the extent tzuyu went to to keep these issues from her, to make sure these problems weren't as big as they were. 

“you don't have to,” tzuyu huffs. “i care about you much, much more than them; i'll always put you first, i don't want you to think otherwise.” 

“i know that,” nayeon sighs. “it's them i'm worried about. i know you want to keep our relationship private, but who knows what they could do?” 

she sees tzuyu open her mouth to refute, only to close it before any words come out. 

they fall into silence until tzuyu breaks it again. 

“what should we do, then?” she whispers, and it's so hesitant it's as if she's already predicted an answer and didn't like it. “i don't want to stop seeing you, if that's what you're suggesting.” 

“i'm worried, not out of my mind,” nayeon gapes. “what i'm saying is that… if you need us to lay low or something, just to get your managers off your back, i'm okay with it. and if i can't pick you up from work everyday, that’s fine, too.” 

tzuyu's fingers tense. “absolutely not. you're the only thing i look forward to after work, how am i supposed to get through the day if you're not there at the end of it?” 

nayeon softens. it's an achingly romantic sentiment she can't bear to ruin. 

“would you just promise me you'll be careful?” 

“i will,” tzuyu assures. “but i'm also ready for whatever they could throw at me, okay?” 

it's a type of determination and courage that nayeon admires, but sometimes she does fear for tzuyu, especially when it begins inching into stubbornness. 

“you could lose your job,” nayeon warns gently. “they could take everything.” 

“that would barely amount to losing you,” tzuyu says. “you're my everything. so — as long as you're here, i'm not scared.”

nayeon's never been strong enough to stay away from tzuyu, anyway. 

“okay,” she says. 

she knows only this one other thing as earnestly as she knows her love for tzuyu. 

“then i'm not scared either.” 

//

tzuyu makes sure her cap and mask are fitted snugly over her face before they leave the car. 

“i can go get the food — it's dangerous for you,” nayeon had told her, but it only made tzuyu want to go with her more. 

“i'll be careful,” tzuyu reassured. she simply winked and pointedly pulled her cap down further. “you're always doing these things for me — let me.” 

nayeon still worries, even though the cashier acknowledges them with nothing more than a tired smile when they walk in.

now, tzuyu squats with her in front of the cold foods rack. she already has two ramen bowls in her hands. 

“should i get a rice ball or ramen?” nayeon ponders. 

“you know a rice ball wouldn't be enough.”

“but i’m craving rice,” nayeon pouts and pokes at the plastic. “and i’ve never seen this malatang chicken flavoured one before.” 

tzuyu tilts her neck back, angling just enough to peer through the tiny slit she'd left between her pulled-down cap and pulled-up mask. she's quiet for a bit, then she takes the rice ball before nayeon has to decide. 

“we'll get both.” 

“both?” 

“yeah, my treat.” 

“... and chuu-hi?” 

“and chuu-hi.” 

nayeon beams. she grabs two cans and holds her arms out to retrieve the rest of their things from tzuyu. it's usually how it goes in places like these — she’ll speak, pay, walk in front, for fear tzuyu might be recognised if she ever does any of those things in public. 

but tzuyu picks the cans from her hands instead and keeps whatever she’d been holding. 

“i'll do it this time.” 

she watches in stunned silence as tzuyu makes a stiff beeline to the cashier. in the middle of an anxious thought, nayeon realises why tzuyu had insisted so adamantly to come along. 

i'm not scared. 

tzuyu shifts in place at the end of the line, but her hands are balled into fists.

for a while, nayeon keeps her distance, cautious to be seen around tzuyu herself — cautious of tzuyu being seen around her. maybe tzuyu had been looking forward to this moment, or at least gearing herself up for it, but nayeon hadn't.

yet, tzuyu’s fingers begin to fidget. 

nayeon can't help herself despite the obvious foolishness. 

she hastily grabs another rice ball and can of chuu-hi, and rushes to the counter. maybe she’ll come off as another unassuming customer. for tzuyu's sake. 

she can't see tzuyu's face, and she's not even sure if tzuyu has any peripheral vision left with the way her cap is pulled down. she worries. 

she tugs on the hem of tzuyu's jacket as subtly, as gently as she can. 

below the counter, tzuyu curls a quiet finger around hers. 

nayeon’s heart settles. 

//

tzuyu doesn't forget to give nayeon a kiss. 

in between bites of ramen and rice balls, after countless careful glances around, she leans over and dips her head until their lips meet.  

nayeon hums, pleased. 

“in public?” 

“i said i wasn’t scared,” tzuyu tells her. 

they sit by a river near her apartment, the same one they've sat at since they met. ramen has always tasted better outdoors, and their lips have always been particularly irresistible when they weren't allowed to kiss them. 

nayeon pulls the brim of tzuyu’s cap back down, readjusting it after their kiss had pushed it back. 

tzuyu chuckles. “i'm sure anyone who wanted to see has seen already.” 

nayeon wants to cover tzuyu's hand with hers, but after that stunt, she decides some cautiousness is due. “when did you get so brash?” 

tzuyu smiles. she brushes a finger against nayeon's pinky. “you make me want to do stupid things.”  

nayeon hooks her finger around tzuyu's, relenting. 

she feels something emanating off tzuyu in quiet waves, an uncomfortable uncertainty and restraint in her speaking that she’s never enjoyed. that bashful tone always meant more than it did on the surface.

“you can tell me what's really on your mind, you know? what was the kiss for?”

tzuyu's eyes shift downwards, though her pinky remains still in nayeon’s. she's silent for a long while, long enough that nayeon gets nervous, but she waits for tzuyu to speak first. she's always needed time to collect her thoughts, and nayeon knows tzuyu is still thinking about her when her pinky curls tighter around her finger. 

when tzuyu speaks again, her voice comes out as a whisper, in thoughtful, carefully picked words. 

“i’m thinking about coming out.” 

nayeon’s brows raise, startled. “what?” 

“yeah,” tzuyu says. “i want to kiss you wherever i want, and i want to tell the world about you eventually. we can do all that when i do.” 

nayeon can't help the silly grin that spreads across her cheeks. they’ve talked about it before, in stray comments and idealistic dreaming, in impulsive moments, but even then — only in ifs and imagines, never wants, never when, never with so much certainty. 

“you must be going mad.” 

tzuyu laughs with her. “maybe i am; maybe for you. i’m greedy.”

“you really are going mad.” 

“i know i am,” and she keeps laughing. “but doesn’t it sound nice?”

“it sounds wonderful.”

//

at home, nayeon kisses tzuyu. without reserve, without caution. 

tzuyu sighs into the kiss, melting into her touch. her fingers latch onto the collar of nayeon’s hoodie, tugging her in eagerly.

“i’ll do it next week,” tzuyu says. “i’ll tell everyone then.” 

nayeon pulls back slightly, eyeing the brim of tzuyu's cap. she lifts the cap off tzuyu's head and tosses it to one side. “i suppose there’ll be no need for this anymore, then?” 

it seems like tzuyu takes it as a sign to hold back a little less as well. 

“not at all.” 

she pushes in further, desperate, longing. tzuyu swallows all the air in her lungs and settles all the noise in her mind. she covers nayeon's lips in soft saccharine pecks, then slower, longer kisses, ones that fill her chest with so much warmth it makes nayeon wonder if the cages of her ribs are deserving of such heaven. 

tzuyu reaches over to clutch onto her waist, pulling at the hem of her hoodie to bring them closer. her kisses grow hungrier, fingers eventually dipping under nayeon's clothes to touch skin. 

nayeon can sense the eagerness; the tugging and fumbling and impatient grasps, the recapturing of her lips when she leaves for air, all of the waiting from before spilling over in this singular, infinitely intimate moment. tzuyu breathes out like every kiss is a new revelation; love in its most honest, most earnest, most raw. 

nayeon kisses back with equal fondness, as much as tzuyu deserves. 

she kisses her until tzuyu hums, and tzuyu giggles like she’s in love, like she’s kissing nayeon for the first time all over again, like she’s everything; she smiles and laughs and breaks the kiss between moments she can’t help breaking, and nayeon does too. 

“i want you,” she whispers. 

“you have me,” she whispers back. 

between their mingled words and encapsulating touches, between steps to a bedroom they share and backs to sheets that smell like them — nayeon knows this must be all of love, right in her two bare hands, tender and real and kind.

okay so what if the plot is just abt two people being in love??? that is not a crime! it's been a while since i wrote just absolutely mindless fluff (i always say this but i'm sure it hasn't bc what else do i write) it feels that way at least! i love writing about love

anyway! thank you for reading and interacting! it means the world <3

[bigfatbreak]

Birds of a Feather previous / next

[james-sunshine-potter]

spiderman james au but no, and i mean no one, even suspects james to be spiderman because none of his friends he's cool enough to be spiderman.

no one even questions the fact anytime spiderman is around james isn't. no one questions his shitty excuses either.

[rubysparx]

Um actually I have something more to say about Kabru and Mithrun’s similarities and relationship.

I think a lot abt how it’s shown a few times how elven culture relies heavily on non-natural ways of doing things, and it’s interesting especially how like our main cast repeats multiple times the three steps to living a long and healthy life. Meanwhile the canaries, the elves, don’t necessarily recognize that stuff as important as it is. I think specifically of the example of Mithrun explaining to Kabru that he has to have medication or a spell otherwise he can’t sleep, to which Kabru tucks him in and gives him a massage which knocks him out cold. His dependency on other methods to fight off insomnia were kinda just in his head, he hadn’t tried anything else. I mean prior to joining the canaries he was fully restrained 90% of the time so ofc a servant would just come in and place a spell for him to sleep every night. And he was like that for years. And then Cithis just replaced all his caretaker servants, then it became her job to make sure he took a pill or listened to her bells every night. I think there’s something there about how there’s a list of stuff Mithrun wasn’t allowed to be around and when he gets separated from the canaries he encounters all of that since Kabru doesn’t know to “protect” Mithrun or restrain him so severely. And it’s interesting because Mithrun doesn’t even seem to have issues with the things, like ofc top on the list was he wasn’t supposed to see goats or sheep. One of the first things he and Kabru eat is barometz. Its something to me that Kabru, who has also suffered so much, takes Mithrun into this dungeon and he has to face head on what’s been bothering him, he has to look his trauma in the eyes. And eat it. He cannot move on until he sees it, understands it, and finally starts talking about himself (“the last desire I had left wasn’t revenge, I wanted the demon to finish me off” “I was scraps left on the plate […] I guess vegetable scraps have their uses too”)

It just seems to me like a more vague and overarching way we see the elven cultural mindset hold him back from properly healing, I don’t think Kabru knew what he was doing at all but the fact of the matter is no one was filtering Mithrun’s view of the world anymore. And while Mithrun believed that didn’t matter to him, nothing mattered, it still made a difference. He was still on the path to moving on, and properly healing, even though he didn’t quite recognize that.

[francy-sketches]

'why does show joffrey look like that he's supposed to be handsome' no sorry there's so many ugly/not conventionally attractive characteracters being prettywashed I think the rare cases of deyassification are based as hell. I like his weird little face ❤

[phoebespenglers]

can we please stop telling people to kill themselves and to rot in hell and that they deserve to be bullied and that they are inherently horrible people who deserve to die and get doxxed. please. can we please stop doing that.

[kacievvbbbb]

Mihawk: You’re being a child.

Shanks (on shot what? of gin) : You'd better watch who you're calling a child, Dracule. Because if I'm a child, you know what that makes you?

Mihawk:....

Shanks: A Pedophile.

Mihawk:……

Shanks (drinking the gin bottle dry) : And I'll be damned if I'm gonna be lectured by a pervert.

Mihawk: ……..😑

Safe to say that Shanks is no longer allowed to drink gin. Because, As it turns out, spirits turn him into a bit of a mean drunk

[atopvisenyashill]

every time someone does “valyrian culture was more egalitarian than andal culture” discourse i point to the fact that jaehaerys invented the doctrine of exceptionalism and was an evil misogynistic menace to every woman he knew, how visenya was not the ruler of their house despite being older, and how the vale which is STEEPED in andal culture & chivalry & the seven regularly has their houses ruled by women in a way that almost no other region outside of dorne has ntm having the ONLY ruling lady of a paramount house INCLUDING VALYRIAN AND FIRST MEN HOUSES and also i start shrieking

[paulandjohn]

John & Paul: A Love Story In Songs tells the story of the tempestuous, tender, intimate, phenomenally creative relationship between John Lennon and Paul McCartney. It’s about how two damaged young men merged their souls and multiplied their talents to create one of the greatest bodies of music in history.

It starts in 1957, when the two of them meet, before taking us through their rise to fame, stupendous success, acrimonious split and aftermath. I tell the story through songs, since it’s my belief that it’s impossible to understand the music of the Beatles except through the alchemy between John and Paul - and you can’t understand that alchemy except through the songs. John & Paul offers a whole new narrative of the Beatles; one which scrapes away the clichés in order to reveal the group and its two principals afresh. It’s a story full of joy, love, pain and pathos. But don’t take my word for it…

The first new Beatles story in decades - and the one that will make your heart burst.

Caitlin Moran

No writer has ever gotten to the heart of the John/Paul saga as brilliantly as Ian Leslie. This extraordinary book sheds light on a cultural mystery: how two nowhere boys from Liverpool formed a teenage bond that transformed the future, and in so many ways, invented it. John and Paul is a bold, original, empathetic revelation of why our world is still fascinated by this friendship-and still trying to live up to it.

Rob Sheffield

I’ve been working on this book for the last three years and it’s now pretty much done - we’re in the very last round of copy edits. It’s the best thing I’ve ever written and I can’t wait to share the whole thing with you. The notes section has been completed (I am so glad to say). The pages have been typeset. Most excitingly: we have a jacket design. Actually two, because John & Paul has two terrific publishers, one in the UK (Faber), one in the US (Celadon).

The Ruffian is deeply intertwined with John & Paul: A Love Story In Songs. The book sprang from a long piece that I wrote about McCartney on here back in 2020. It went so unexpectedly viral that I started to think, huh, what if…? I’d already been thinking, vaguely, of a book about the two of them, but now it seemed viable. I got a similar response to my piece on Peter Jackson’s Get Back, also published on The Ruffian. Those two pieces became my kind of standard for the book - I wanted the whole thing to elicit as powerful a response as they did.

It’s been a massive undertaking and without income from The Ruffian I simply wouldn’t have had time to do this story justice. Over the months to come, especially as we get nearer to publication, I’ll be sending J&P-related posts exclusively to paid subscribers. These will include pieces on the writing of the book, extra material I had to leave out, and perhaps some extracts. There will be other goodies too; my publishers have some exciting plans.

YOU CAN NOW PRE-ORDER ‘JOHN & PAUL’

Yes, it’s out there on the virtual shelves, waiting for you. And I would absolutely love you to pre-order (to those of you annoyed by this arguably redundant term, I apologise but it’s handy).

Every sale of this book counts but some sales count more than others. Pre-orders are simply more valuable to authors. Why? Because they move the algorithmic needles. The more orders a book receives before its publication date, the more prominence the retailers give it when it arrives, and so the better it does on release It’s all about the big mo. The prize is a spot on the bestseller lists in that first week. So let’s give it a go…

If you can afford it, please smash your preferred link and get your order in now (UK and US retailers below):

UK

Waterstones

Amazon

Foyles

Blackwells

U.S.

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

Bookshop

Audible

[faunandfloraas]

you can make fun of felix for sounding dumb when he speaks, he does say some very funny and questionable, somewhat bizarre things at times, but there's a certain point where I am going to judge you for it a little bit <3

[hitlikehammers]

almost out of time

rating: t ♥️ cw: boys being very unserious ♥️ tags: established relationship, featuring the party as supporting cast, also featuring shootouts! (with the most negligible stakes), post S4, slice of life, softness

for @steddielovemonth day twenty: Love is saying "I love you" even when you're scared (@quinns-shadowy-arts)

early 90s rockstar husbands, baby ♥�� this is apparently what happens when you say 'oh I'll skip day 20 because I have no ideas' and then ideas come for you because you were arrogant ♥️

“Stevie,” Eddie’s breathless, and he is, in fairness, often breathless around that name but this…

Not like this.

“Shh,” Steve bites out, hisses low through clenched teeth as he presses Eddie into the wall a little harder, chest heaving against Eddie’s; “quiet.”

“Steve,” Eddie pants, looking over his shoulder in the dim, there’s fog too, from where Eddie has no fucking clue but it cuts his line of sight to only just beyond Steve’s reach; he’s no use, and he tries to listen for the approach, for footsteps, but his heartbeat’s too loud; “Steve, we’re—"

A finger presses hard, jams his lips up against his teeth as Steve glares out the corner of his eye.

“They’ll fucking hear us,” he leans so close Eddie can feel the dampness of his words when he speaks, then the full drag of his lips; feels the instruction more than hears:

“Stay quiet.”

And Eddie’s trying, he really is, but they’re…this is fucking hopeless, isn’t it? They’re outnumbered, they’ve been running for fuck knows how long. Everyone else is already gone, it’s just them, and they…they can wait it out as long as they want and Eddie would take forever with Steve, he would, but not like this, and fuck, fuck—what good is it, what’s the point when it’ll change nothing—

“But Steve,” Eddie whispers, but his breath catches it and threatens to whine through his words; he nearly chokes trying to rein it back but Steve’s got his whole hand against his mouth, now: not hard, but present. Like a bolster. It feels protective. It feels safe where there’s no safety left.

The red flashes in the dim and fuck; fuck

“Stay down, and don’t fucking talk, okay?” Steve breathes harsh right against Eddie’s ear, and Eddie’s shoved up against him so close, so close that his warmth is Eddie’s warmth in the chill, so close he can feel Steve’s pulse inside his own; they’re, it’s—

They’re almost out of time.

“St—"

And then Steve’s lips are on his, insistent, demanding, claiming, keeping, his tongue in Eddie’s mouth and sure, it’s a very effective, tried and true way to shut Eddie up, but this: this feels like so much more; it’s all passion and feeling, adrenaline and that tip-of-a-knife feeling, that plunge-before-the-plunge and Eddie’s heart feels bold for it, and he sucks at Steve’s lip and kisses once with force of his own before he breaks off and cups Steve’s cheek, reaches to cradle his face full-on and steals one last kiss before looking him square in the eye, decision made, though—

There wasn’t really a decision to it; there’s no choice to be had when it’s him, or Steve.

“I love you, baby,” Eddie tells him fierce, with all the feeling in him; “so fucking much,” which is always true, not just here at the end. He hopes Steve knows that.

“Eddie, what the hell—"

And Eddie’s scrambling up, creeping out from their hiding place and toward the shuffling approach incoming.

“What are you doing?” Steve rasps, lunging to grab at Eddie’s ankle but Eddie’s determined, he’s got momentum, he’s already up and clearing the corner and—

“For love!” he cries out as he leaps into the open, arms wide and asking for the hit—

And it comes, it fucking comes almost immediately.

Eddie drops to the ground, gasping.

And then they’re on top of him.

“Fucking drama queen,” Dustin, Dustin of all of them has the goddamn audacity to say to him as he walks over his prone frame and takes aim at Steve who, in fairness, does take out Mike before Dustin takes three pulls to hit him and win the game to screeching digital fanfare through the speakers.

“You could have just stayed down, man,” Steve huffs with a roll of his eyes as he stands up and unbuckles his vest.

“We were almost out of time!” Eddie gapes a little, sitting up and pointing forcefully toward the big red numbers counting down how many seconds they had left in the arena. Less than three minutes.

“We could have made it, these shitheads still don’t have any aim,” Steve purses his lips with so much of that…that glorious bitchy judgement Eddie loves most to lick off of him, he wonders where he can drag him to—

The flickering of colors next to him catches his attention and: oh. Right. They dragged the kids here. It’s fucking sweltering, they’re all back from school, and the options were swimming or something air-conditioned. And the new releases at the movie theater were all kinda shitty.

And Eddie cannot risk getting them thrown out of here for public indecency at the minimum: the laser tag’s connected to the best fucking arcade in town.

And frankly, yeah: it’s been years in the plural now since they shut the Upside Down…y’know, down, but he’s kinda proud of the guys, extra proud of his Stevie, and actually, yeah, kinda proud of himself, that what with the dark, and the lights, and red and the guns: they were fine. They were safe.

It was fun. It was just a game.

“I mean,” Eddie picks back up his defense, gesturing at the at the kids with their little chest plates all blinking a celebratory red-blue-white-blue-red that feels either very patriotic or very law-enforcement-themed while his and Steve’s remain dark; “they were on their way to our location, one of us had to draw their attention,” and it was going to be Eddie because…

Because: for love.

“We weren’t gonna look there,” Lucas deadpans as Mike snickers and high-fives Dustin a little…a little too triumphantly and okay, fine, he thinks he’s starting to get why Steve had been taking this so seriously: to keep the shitheads from this kind of ego-inflating victory; “we were headed the other way.”

Eddie doesn’t even have to turn to feel the weight of Steve's stare, the vindication and self-congratulation in it's just…tangible in the air.

“Oh,” Eddie bites his lip, tries to think of an angle; “umm,” he twirls his hair and then Steve’s at his side, bumping his shoulder and he can’t really hide, or delay any further—and it’s Steve, next to him, so: he doesn’t exactly want to that bad, anyway, so he turns and gives the softest, widest-eyed look he can muster:

“Good intentions?” he sells it for as much as he can gather up, and Steve?

Steve just snorts, and bumps his shoulder, pretty fucking hard.

“You’re unbelievable,” Steve chuckles a little, shakes his head but doesn’t rush to follow the boys to the armory; he glances that way, but turns back quick, and then he’s grabbing the back of Eddie’s neck and: oh.

Yeah, this was more what Eddie’d been going for with the farewell-forever-my-most-beloved kiss he left Steve with before his grand-though-arguably-unnecessary sacrifice.

“And you’re buying lunch,” Steve breaks off with a nip to his lower lip before shoving his target-vest at Eddie’s chest and making for the door.

And Eddie’s a little breathless again, as he whines Steve’s name—so fucking often, just, breathless around that name—before he struggles a little to unhook his own vest because he’s actually hungry, now that Steve’s landed him with the bill for lunch, but really: it’s a fucking empty threat, either way.

Like: they share a fucking bank account.

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson

♥️

divider credit here

[nyatbinary-81]

@vulpixisananimal sifstem art jumpscare!! more specifically i got bored and decided to mess around with sif and mal's outfits.

[sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes]

Hey isn't it interesting that on a rainbow yellow green and orange are right next to each other but purple isn't

[o-vera-nalyzing]

one miya twins hc i just can’t believe isn’t true is mama miya telling the twins before the first day of kindergarten that it’s not ok to hit people most of the time but if someone else starts the fight you can finish it and if someone is bullying your brother you have permission to hit them. that very same day they come home and their mom almost immediately finds out that osamu hit a kid for saying atsumu was stupid, then the kid swung on osamu so atsumu shoved him to the ground within seconds

[maxthesillyy]

(voice of guy thinking about all the different ways an AU where max’s dad dies and chloe moves to seattle instead could go) im normal

[ohitslen]

I GOT IDEA ☝️🤠‼️‼️

I think that Wolfwood has strong hands not only in the sense of strength but also in resistance, so when he punches or smacks Vash on his prosthetic he doesn’t really feel too affected by punching the hard material and barely notices it like yeah it’s harder than flesh but it’s whatevs

In addition to that, he has found that with Vash he doesn’t measure his strength a lot so sometimes he hits him a tad too hard

So to expand my panicked “oh shit sorry” eldest sibling Wolfwood response agenda when he accidentally fucks up, sometimes he will smack Vash’s left arm playfully and Vash will hiss in pain or act a little too real (not so exaggerated) when he gets the hit, and indulges in the way WW is all oh no oh fuck sorry uh did it really hurt that bad while Vash is doubling over in pain when he’s actually pressing down a laugh

It always takes Wolfwood a little too long to realize it’s not his actual arm and when he does come to realize it, he gets embarrassed but the violent kind of embarrassed and he hits him so hard Vash always considers not doing it again

He does it again at least once a week, and Wolfwood somehow falls for it every single time and the beatings get worse than the one before that