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mediumgayitalian · 4 months

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“Death Breath! Hey! Wait up!”

Nico bolts. He makes it about ten feet away from his cabin door before Will and his stupid long legs catch up with him, throwing an arm over his shoulder and then immediately tripping over his own foot and sending them both sprawling.

“I hate you,” Nico groans, curling up on the grass.

It’s too early for any of this. He was just trying to get back at Cecil for covering everything he owned in aluminum foil last week — and then he was going to go right the hell back to bed.

He knew he should have fucking shadow travelled.

“Aw, c’mon. You love me.”

Nico pretends to gag. The only thing he gets is Will’s crossed arms and raised eyebrow, so he doubles down and really starts to retch. Whatever. It’s eight thirty in the morning. He fell asleep at five. Rational thinking is a distant, distant memory.

“Whenever you’re done.”

“I will be sick at the thought for the next eight weeks,” Nico informs him. For dramatic effect, he looks up at Will’s face — which he cant even see, since the sun’s in his eyes — and shudders.

“You know, you have a genuine, beautiful talent for the dramatic arts, the likes of which I have never seen. Are you sure you’re not secretly an Apollo kid?”

I better not be, ‘cause then all the staring I do at your calves would be real weird, he thinks to himself, then considers whether he can convince Kayla to give him a lobotomy. He thinks she might like the opportunity.

“Piss off,” he says instead of that, artfully schooling his face into the aristocratic mask he’s perfected from his father, squaring his shoulders and looking at Will like he’s a pebble lodged in the flesh of his heel.

Will rolls his eyes. “Get up, Sharpay Evans. You’re gonna stain your shirt worse than you already have.”

Nico sniffs haughtily. “My shirt is perfectly fine, thank you very much. I order them in black for a reason.”

He notices a giant grass stain on the side when he stands. He ignores it. Will does not.

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re the Goth King.”

“Ghost King.”

“Right, right. That helps your case.”

Nico shoves him, fighting back a grin. “Whatever, Solace. What are you bothering me for?”

“Oh, yeah!”

Nico is a deeply cheesy person. Down to the core of him, past all the sarcasm and prickliness and trauma, or whatever, he’s made of fucking mozzarella, because what business does he have comparing Will’s eyes to the morning winter sky? Huh? That’s embarrassing. It isn’t even original. If Nico caught anyone saying shit like that out loud in real life, he’s collapse into the shadows from embarrassment. He needs electroshock therapy.

“I was thinking —”

“Rare,” Nico quips, just to watch Will’s eyebrow twitch. It does. Nico smiles.

“I was thinking,” he repeats, mocking glare in Nico’s direction, “that you and me go to the city this afternoon.”

“You chased me across camp for that?”

“Oh, please, Zombie Face. I chased you maybe twenty yards.”

“I think all that time sniffing rubbing alcohol has deteriorated your brain.”

“I think I’m going to shove you in the lake.”

“Feel free to try. You will not wake up the next morning.”

“Nah.” Will shoots him a smug smile. Nico trips over air. “I can be as annoying as I want and you still won’t kill me. I have impunity.”

Nico rolls his eyes, refusing to dignify that with an answer. The less he acknowledges his own shame, the more likely it will go away on its own. Probably.

“Anyways. Guess what Cecil told me today.”

“His last will and testament?” Nico guesses, suddenly remembering his reason for being up this early.

“No, no, not that.” Will pauses. “Well, I mean, he did. I passed it on to Chiron. He has requested that when you maul him, you avoid his face, because he wants to be a sexy corpse and he can’t do that if you destroy his prettiest features.”

“Noted. Please inform him I will come for him within a window of the next fifteen hours.”

Theres a very particular face Will makes when he finds something genuinely funny. A smile a little more crooked than his regular one, teeth working at his bottom lip to hold it back, left dimple appearing in his cheek. It makes Nico want to do stupid things like press his thumb into said divot. He instead shoves his hands deeply into his pockets.

“I’ll let him know.” He clears his throat. “Anyways. You know what day it is today?”

Nico squints. “Tues…day? No, Wednesday.” He glances at Will. It’s been maybe….three days since their weekly sleepover? No, fuck, four. He thinks. “Thursday. Final answer.”

“Monday,” Will corrects, “and, gods, you need to sleep more. And a calendar. But no, that’s not my point.”

“Feel free to get to it.”

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” Will finally explains. He tries for exasperated, but it doesn’t work — he’s clearly excited, bouncing on the balls of his feet and waving his hands. “And The Five Seasons is doing half off for couples, so you and I need to go!”

He waves his hands, as if tying off some grand reveal. His (blue blue blue blue) eyes are squeezed nearly shut by the force of his beam, which lessons slightly with every second Nico does not respond.

“William,” he says finally. He opens his mouth, then closes it again. “William.”

Will pouts. “What?”

“Explain how this is relevant to me, William.”

“Aw, c’mon, Nico! Don’t be difficult!”

“William,” stresses Nico again. “We are not a couple. Did you hit your head again?”

“Well, duh, Neeks, it’s about the scam!” He flaps his hand in a way Nico assumes is meant to convey something. “We’re gonna — eat! Cheap! By pretending to be a couple!” Now both hands are flopping, paired with wide, imploring eyes. “Obviously!”

“Obviously,” Nico repeats, slowly. He instructs one half of his brain to keep its focus on not melting into a puddle of blushing embarrassed goo, and the other to exercise restraint and not strangle the boy in front of him. A headache begins to press behind his eyes. “Will, what the shit.”

“You of all people!” Will throws his hands up. “You love scamming people! You hate corporate holidays! You frequently throw pebbles at people who look, and I quote, too obnoxiously happy! You’re the best hater I know! You should be on board!”

He makes a compelling point. Not that Nico is going to make that easy for him.

“You seem very invested in this,” Nico points out. He manages to keep his voice tastefully judgmental, which he’s very proud of.

“Of course I am! I want cheap Five Seasons food, godsdammit!” He pauses, switching tactics. “Nico,” he says softly. He puts a gently hand on Nico’s forearm, making him freeze. He is suddenly very, very close, and wow, did his hair always frame his face in gentle waves? Has that always been a thing? “I really, really want to scam a restaurant with you.” He smiles, small and crooked and gods, Will doesn’t look dangerous very often, but holy Hades when he does — “Will you make my Valentines, and scam a restaurant with me?”

His fingers begin to trace little circles in the inside of Nico’s wrist.

“Yes,” he squeaks, voice cracking.

“Yes!” Will cheers, pulling his fist. “Yes, hell yes, Nico! We are going to scam the shit out of this restaurant! Half off for couples? How about half off for heathens! Free money, baby! Fuck yeah!”

He turns back towards Nico, smile still wide and radiant, blinking eyes pools of sparkling excitement. Nico’s knees go a little weak. “I’ll come get you at 2! Thank you, Neeks!”

He runs off back to his cabin, only tripping twice. Nico watches him go, feeling a little like he’s tripping, too, with all the swooping his stomach is doing.

“Dude,” he mumbles to himself, shaking his head. “Be normal. Christo.”

It takes him ten straight minutes to get back to his cabin, even though he’s standing at the porch.

———

The obsidian handle of the Hades’ cabin door rattles.

“Neeks!” calls a voice behind the door, “you ready to go?”

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.” Nico scrambles over to the mirror and stares at himself. He turns a little to the left. He scowls. “Shit!” Tugging the shirt off, he turns back to his closet, tossing the piece of clothing to join the rest of its brethren on the floor. “Shitfuck. Fuckshit. Shit.”

“Nico!”

“Coming!”

Tapping his foot rapidly, he looks harder, as if that will magically make the right shirt pop into existence, perfectly pressed, on a hanger. “Shit.”

“What could possibly be taking so long? You’ve had two hours!”

“I care about my appearance, Mr Flip Flops and Scrubs!”

“Bleh bleh! Hurry up!”

Nico bites his lip. It shouldn’t matter. It doesn’t, really. Five Seasons is not actually a fancy restaurant. He and Will just like to joke that it is, because it has tablecloths. They’ve gone there dozens of times before; they stop every time they’re in the city for supply runs or visits to Olympus or to harass their summer-only friends at school. There is literally no reason for Nico to be stressing about what stupid shirt he should wear. Gods know Will is wearing cargo shorts.

“Nico!”

“I’m coming!“

Scowling, he digs through the pile of discarded clothes until he finds the first shirt he’d put on — a dark green button up that was given to him, along with a bunch of other fancy clothes he never wears, by the Aphrodite cabin. He hastily shoves their buttons through their holes, cursing when he mixes them up and has to start over, and sprints over to the mirror to inspect himself.

The shirt looks good. It’s a little tight on the arms, which he suspects was on purpose, and the colour compliments his skin nicely. The buttons are a dark, shiny brown that match his eyes. They pair nice with his simple jeans and black vans, casual enough that he doesn’t look like he’s going to Prom, or anything stupid like that, but dressy enough that it looks like he put effort in. He runs his fingers through his hair, trying to make the staticky strands sit right, but gives up pretty quickly. It’s okay if one thing is a little messy, right?

“Finally,” huffs Will as the door swings open. He glances Nico up and down, then grins. “You look great.”

Nico was right. He is indeed wearing cargo shorts, although to his credit they are his one pair without various Head Medic stains. His sweater, too, is a pretty blue, V-necked, long-sleeved, and a completely different style than his shorts. It clashes horribly. His shoes are, for some reason, bright solid pink. Nico suspects Hecate magic. His hair is braided in two French braids, his favourite way to wear it. Nico believes he is also wearing a touch of sparkly eyeshadow.

“You look dorky.”

Will grins wider. “Thank you! I wouldn’t let anyone help me choose something.”

“You should have.”

“I wanted it to be authentic, Nico. Also, got something for you.” From behind his back, he pulls out a handful of daisies, black dirt clinging to their roots, like he plucked them straight from the ground. Nico is inexplicably endeared by the image, and prays the smile on his face is less soft than he knows it is.

“You got me flowers?”

“Well, duh, Avril Lavigne. We gotta sell the scam.”

Nico brings them close to his face and inhales deeply. They smell fresh and earthy and sweet.

“That’s a stupid reason to bring someone flowers.”

“Give them back, then.”

“No. Fuck off. They’re mine.”

Will’s eyes twinkle. “Okay.” He holds out his arm. “Ready to go?”

The jump is close enough that Nico can convince him to shadow travel, and not just because he sadistically looks forward to the shade of green Will’s face will get after. As dangerous as he knows it can be, he misses it, sometimes. There’s something comforting about it, something soothing and familiar. Shadow travelling to the restaurant eases any lingering nerves.

“If you’re gonna throw up, do it somewhere I can’t hear you,” he says as they materialize in an alley.

Will’s cheeks puff out. “I’m gonna do it on your fuckin’ shoes.”

“I will leave your ass here, Solace, I swear to the gods.” Despite his grumbling, he rests a cool hand on the back of Will’s neck until he’s recovered. “Good?”

“Yeah.” He straightens, dusting off his sweater. “Let’s go.”

Nico follows him down the alley and onto the street, elbowing past the crowd of pedestrians until they approach the familiar glass doors. He rolls his eyes fondly every time Will apologizes to someone.

“You need to be meaner.”

Will sticks his tongue out and tries to trip him. Unfortunately, he only manages to throw himself off balance, nearly crashing to the floor of Nico hadn’t caught him.

“Good gods, Solace.”

“That was your fault!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The doors of the restaurant are absolutely plastered in cheesy red hearts and bows and cartoon kisses. And, as promised, a giant sign promising couples a fifty percent discount on their meals.

“My love,” says Will dramatically, holding out a hand, “shall we?”

Nico sighs, resting his hand delicately in Will’s. It sparks with electricity, like it always does. “I suppose.”

“Party pooper.”

“I’m not hearing oh, Nico, thank you so much for doing this incredibly stupid thing with me, you are my dearest friend and I owe you one. Or three, for some reason.”

Will’s mouth twitches. “Oh, Nico, thank you so much for —”

Nico shoves him, laughing. “Shut up.”

They’re seated pretty quickly, server smiling when they take notice of their clasped hands. Will orders chicken tenders, like he does every single time without fail, and water. Nico orders from the adult menu and absolutely does not make any kind of show about it.

“There is nothing babyish about chicken tendies.”

“Oh, of course not.”

“Is this about you having a credit card? That does not make you more adult than me. It makes you a nepo baby.”

“Mhm. Sure thing.”

“Nobody likes a nepo baby, Nico.”

“Look, I think your drink comes with a complimentary sippy cup.”

Teasing and joking with Will is so easy that Nico forgets the core of their mission. The pink garlands hanging from the ceiling fade into the background — he’s too busy crying with laughter when Will nearly chokes to death on a french fry, too busy flicking a forkful of food at his shoulder just to make him shriek, too busy kicking his shin under the table. He catches Nico’s foot between his the fourth time he tries it, keeping it trapped for the rest of the meal. Nico finds he doesn’t mind.

“And your bill,” says their server when they’re done, setting down a slip of paper. “Forgive me if I’m being presumptuous, but do you two qualify for today’s discount?”

Will smirks widely. “We do,” he says, with no small amount of pleasure. He shoots Nico the least subtle wink of all time. Nico rolls his eyes, cheeks going a little pink.

“Great! You guys have a wonderful Valentine’s day.”

“You, too.”

The server hurries away, turning to their other tables. Will’s smile is wide and smug.

“I knew it would work.”

“Duh. Easiest scam in the world, Solace.”

He sticks his tongue out. “And thus the best payout. You’re welcome.”

“Blah, blah. Gimme the bill.”

“Um, no way, di Angelo. I’m paying.”

He opens his wallet before Nico can stop him, mouthing as he counts the bills.

“What? No! I’m paying.”

“Are not.”

“Am too!”

“Are not.” He sets down a couple twenties. Nico snatches them right back up. “You we’re just complaining about my credit card!”

“Exactly. Thus my need to continue to pretend you don’t have one, so we can continue our friendship.”

“Solace, I swear to the gods.”

“di Angelo, I swear to the gods.”

Nico stares him down. Will stares back. He doesn’t even try to hide his lazy grin, his laughing eyes.

“You’re not paying for this by yourself,” Nico says firmly. “You don’t have a job. My father invented being rich.”

“Sure, but I made you come with me.”

“Ugh!” Nico throws his hands up, imagining how satisfying it would be to wrap his hands around that long neck (followed by his teeth and his tongue and his —). “Why are you impossible? I would’ve gone with you no matter what, stupid!”

As soon as he says it he wants to stick his head in wet cement. For a brief second, something like surprise flits across Will’s face, before he schools it back into his teasing smirk.

“Well, obviously, Death Breath. I’m excellent company.”

“You’re literally the most annoying person I know.”

“And yet here you are, hanging out with me, of your own volition.”

“…I’m paying next time.”

Will grins. “Whatever you say.”

They walk around the city for a while before heading back to camp. Will says it’s because he needs the air, Nico knows it’s because he wants him to rest a little longer before trying to shadow travel again. He tries not to let himself get all melty inside.

(Nobody willingly hangs out around the city for the ‘air’. He’s a shit liar. Nico should be offended.)

It’s nearing curfew by the time they melt back out from behind Thalia’s tree, extra shadows of early evening making the trip easier.

“Those fries are going to make a reappearance,” Will grimaces.

“Not if you don’t want me to kick you in the face.”

“You’d never.”

He would indeed never. But he would rather pass away than admit it, so.

“C’mon, dot face. It’s getting late. You have a cabin to run.”

“Oh, Nico,” Will says in a breathy falsetto, “are you walkin’ me to my cabin? How chivalrous!”

“Nevermind.”

“No no no no no I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” Nico allows himself to be tugged, weak to Will’s giggles. “Walk me to my cabin. C’mon.”

Sighing, as if he’s so put out, Nico does. Some point in between Thalia’s tree and the amphitheater, Will’s hand slides down from around his wrist to tangled in between his fingers. Coincidentally, his mouth goes dry.

As they approach the Apollo cabin, Will slows to a stop.

“Hey.” He squeezes their fingers together, smile soft in the dying light of dawn. “I had fun today. Thank you for coming with me.”

Nico swallows. One day, those words will be said in a different context, if everything goes well for Nico, and he’s not sure how the hell he’s going to handle it without bursting into flame. “Yeah, well. Anything to scam a restaurant.”

“Right.”

They walk the last few steps to the cabin, rickety porch steps creaking under their feet as they approach the open door. Will doesn’t let go.

“Hey, Nico.”

“…Yeah?”

Quick as a flash, Will leans in and presses the softest of kisses to his mouth. The noise Nico makes is practically punched out of his lungs, spine going rigid in surprise.

“You can pay for our next date, okay?”

He’s gone before Nico can respond, ducking into his cabin with a small smile and closing the door behind him. Nico stands there, like an idiot, for three solid minutes at the very least, distantly aware of the giggles coming through the open window.

His hand comes up, fingers brushing his bottom lip.

“The little fucker set me up.”

Valentine’s day scam. Please. The only scam today was the scam of Will’s sneaky asking.

Nico smiles.

“You’re a mess, Solace!” he shouts, knowing damn well Will is listening.

He’s right. “Goodnight, Nico!”

Shaking his head, Nico runs back to his cabin, entire body tingling and cheeks aching with his grin.

#they should argue more actually it’s so funny #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #nico di angelo #will solace #solangelo #will/nico #nico/will #banter #valentine’s day #fluff #fic #my writing #longpost #not established relationship but it might as well be

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imaybe5tupid · 16 days

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Why bother? (Why bother?) It's gonna hurt me. (It's gonna hurt me.) It's gonna kill when- (Why bother!) -You desert me! (Gonna hurt me!)

Set after Nightmare. Laios is reminiscing and contemplating.

#laishuro #laios touden #i make a lot of jokes on here since part of the fun of this blog for me is limiting myself to only expressing ideas via drawings #as much as I can to try to see what I can try to convey in the limited time I have to draw each day which is sometimes like 15minutes #but laios idea of who shuro was to him and who he continues to be and how it ties into his own feelings of self worth and self hatred #not to mention being so thoroughly defined by having never been indulged before by the men in his life #are so compelling to me #and then of course you mix in toshiros own mind prisons #and their established dynamic of him begrudgingly putting up with him because he feels he has to and bc hes cursed with obedience #whilst laios genuinely thinks shuro does it because he likes it and likes laios because why else would anyone act like that #when everyone else in his life has not hesitated to Let Him Know #this is what is so fun about relationships like this…forever passing by each other’s true feelings like ships in the night #and on toshiros side umineko said it best People are riddles. They want someone else to solve their riddle #they live life wanting someone to solve the riddle that they are #the most difficult riddle in the world #without love the truth cannot be seen sighhhh many such cases #sometimes i get embarassed how deep i get for some of the characters in this series it really is that deep sometimes but not always #but WHATEVER #i never even engaged in or was interested in shipping the several years i read dunmeshi EXCEPT laishuro lol #which i sadistically wanted to stay one sided and miserable forever. I rarely get fed such genuinely fraught dynamics as their one in manga #so i became obsessed #and walked through the desert alone for 40 years and then checked in as anime started airing that other people ship this and gaf #and decided to unleash the jokes and ideas that my like 2 friend who like anime previously suffered alone as though they were jesus christ #now tho as much as I still enjoy tragedy and pain and emotional suffering I’ve let love and peace and requited fulfilled yaoi into my life #with laishuro. and its great!#my comics

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luciathcv · 4 months

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be my valentine? - psh

summary: idol!sunghoon x nonidol!reader - you just want your boyfriend to ask you to be his valentine || warnings: reader feels like sunghoon doesn't love them anymore, sad :( || genre: angst, fluff, established relationship || word count: approximately 1000

Valentine's day was coming up and your boyfriend still hadn't asked you to be his Valentine. You wondered if he just hadn't gotten to it but honestly, you were doubtful that he would even ask you.

Lately, you've felt that he was being a bit distant. He's been working a lot lately which, of course you knew wasn't his fault, but it wasn't that, that had you feeling this way. It was the way that whenever he was home, it was almost like he didn't even acknowledge you.

Okay, that might be seen as a little dramatic in reality, but it was how you were feeling.

Today was no different than things had been between you guys recently. He got home, gave you a simple greeting and a peck on your lips before going to shower. He'd then sit with you at the dining table and eat in silence. You'd try to initiate conversation but he wasn't putting much energy into actually holding the conversations. After dinner, he'd silently help you clean up before going to the couch and scrolling on his phone. Desperate for some time with him, you'd sit next to him but it was as if he didn't even notice you were there as he scrolled through his phone. A little later in the night, you guys would get into bed, you'd desperately cuddle against him before falling asleep. When you woke up, he was gone, already at work, and the cycle would repeat.

Today, you had honestly just had enough. You were sat on the couch when you heard the front door open. You walked over to the door and Sunghoon greeted you with a "hello" and a kiss like usual before heading to the bathroom to shower.

You prepared a nice dinner, nicer than usual because you were really starting to get desperate at this point and when Sunghoon came out, hair wet and in pajamas, it was as if he hadn't even noticed your effort.

This time, you didn't even bother attempting at starting a conversation with him, feeling as if there was no point. Sunghoon then helped you clean up dinner afterwards and went to the couch, scrolling through his phone.

You walked over to him and sat next to him. He continued to scroll through his phone. Usually, you would scroll through your phone as well but today, you had no desire in doing so. After a little while, Sunghoon turned to you, "You okay, babe?" He asked.

You furrowed your eyebrows. Something about it just made you pissed off. Obviously, you weren't okay. Why would you be? You've felt completely neglected by him for the past almost two weeks. Your efforts to connect with him have seemingly been completely ignored. You were starting to wonder if he even loved you anymore. You weren't even worried about him asking you to be his Valentines before Valentine's day anymore, you were more worried about him asking you to break up before Valentine's day at this point.

"Do you even love me anymore?" You blurt out. Sunghoon's eyes widen a little. Before he could even respond, you got up and stormed off to your bedroom. You went to your bed and buried yourself under you covers, your back facing Sunghoon's side of the bed. You then felt yourself start to sob.

Due to your sobbing, you hadn't even noticed the sound of the bedroom door opening, you only had realized your boyfriend has entered the room when you felt the blanket lift up a little and the bed sinking a bit behind you. Sunghoon's arms wrapped around you before you could even react, him pulling you tightly against him.

You then feel him start to press soft kisses to the back of your head and to the nape of your neck. Your sobs calmed down and now, you were just silently crying. Once Sunghoon had noticed you'd calmed down a little, he spoke.

"You think I don't love you anymore?" He asked even though he didn't expect a response since he knew you were still upset. "I... I know that I've been distant lately. I mean, I didn't really notice it then but I realize it now. I've- I've just been working a lot and have been very tired but that isn't an excuse, trust me. I just- there's no excuse. I never wanted to make you feel like I didn't love you anymore. I love you so much and I don't think I could ever love anyone else. No, I know I couldn't." Sunghoon explains. "I just... I really never wanted to make you feel this way." He then softly repeats.

You sit there in silence for a moment as you take in what he said. "You never asked me to be your Valentine." I softly tell him.

"Honey, I thought you knew I wanted you to be my Valentine." Sunghoon softly says as he brushes some hair out of your face. "I... I should've asked you though. I've asked you to be my Valentine for the past three years of us being together, I should've asked you this year as well." Sunghoon sighs, disappointed in himself for being so forgetful.

"It's okay." You softly tell him, seeing how clear it was that he was upset at himself for it.

"It isn't, baby. It isn't." Sunghoon tells you. You then just lay there together in silence for a few moments, "I know this might not be the right time but Y/n, will you be my Valentine?" Sunghoon asks.

You can't help but smile, finally hearing the words that you've been wanting to hear, "Yes." You respond.

He lets out a relieved sigh before leaning in and kissing you. Thing was, it wasn't anything like the kisses you guys had been sharing lately. It was long, deep, and passionate. Sunghoon had wanted to make up for his quick pecks he's been giving you lately. He never wanted to make you feel neglected ever again.

After a while, you both pulled away, needing some air, "I love you so much." Sunghoon breathed out.

"I love you too, Hoon." You say with a soft smile.

He had finally asked you to be his Valentine and you guys both knew, that he would continue to ask you to be his Valentine for the rest of your guys' long life together.

-- link to my masterlist

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steddieas-shegoes · 3 months

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i could listen all night

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is wanting to hear every detail of their day'

rated t | 803 words | cw: recreational drug use (weed) | tags: established relationship, stargazing, they're so in love

💟💟💟💟💟💟💟💟💟💟💟💟💟

"And it's not even that I'm worried about failing the test!" Steve said as he leaned back against the wall of their too-small balcony. "I did a practice test yesterday and only missed one question. I just feel like it's too easy."

"I think you're just smarter than you give yourself credit for, Stevie," Eddie said as he exhaled smoke.

"I don't think that's it."

Eddie rolled his eyes fondly.

They didn't love their apartment. It was on the third floor of a three story townhome that seemed to be a revolving door of large families who couldn't make rent after a couple of months. They'd get close to someone on the first floor and they'd be evicted two months later. They'd finally have a quiet neighbor below them only to find out it was an old man who was moved to a nursing home a month after moving in.

But they at least had this balcony that faced a parking lot of some business that was empty and closed by the time they needed to smoke.

And when Steve graduated, they could move closer to whatever school he ended up working at.

"What if I don't graduate?" Steve asked quietly, reaching out for the joint Eddie had just taken a third pull off of. "What if I'm doing all this for nothing?"

Eddie turned to Steve as much as he could, covered his hand in comfort. "If anyone knows what it's like not to graduate, it's me. And it's not the end of the world. It may feel like it at first, but just because you don't do it when you think you should doesn't mean you won't ever. You're smart and you work hard, sunshine, you're gonna graduate."

"You have to say that. You're my boyfriend."

"I don't have to say anything! I told you just this morning that you were stupid if you thought I wasn't gonna wake up just to kiss you goodbye," Eddie pecked his cheek and took the join back from him.

He knew Steve got emotional if he smoked too much, and he'd already reached the glassy eye part of the high. Better to stop him now.

"Other than your professor scaring you, what happened today?" Eddie asked casually. He wanted to hear about everything, and Steve liked talking about it.

"I had the best cup of tea. The library was giving free cups to students who donated $1 to the writer's club. So I guess it wasn't really free, but still, $1 for the best cup of tea I've ever had isn't bad." Steve leaned his head on Eddie's shoulder. "I studied for an hour between classes and saw these two women making out. One was like, a lot older than the other and I'm almost certain she was a professor with a student. Don't know what that's about."

Eddie raised his brows, but stayed quiet as Steve continued.

"And then I managed to eat my sandwich after my second class. Best one you've made yet. Perfect ham to turkey ratio," Steve kissed his neck.

"Glad you liked it, sweetheart."

"Oh! And there's gonna be a student run show next Friday. I get two free tickets if you wanna go. Maybe we could make it a date night?"

"I think that sounds lovely. Write it on the fridge and I'll make sure I'm home in time to get ready for it," Eddie took one last drag from the joint before putting it out in the ash tray he grabbed from the flea market downtown when they first moved in. "Anything else today?"

"I got to sit outside and look at the stars with my boyfriend. That's been pretty nice," Steve whispered.

Eddie felt his cheeks heat up, never quite used to how easily Steve shared his love and affection. He'd been like that before they were even together, overwhelmingly honest.

"Was he good company?" Eddie teased, leaning his head on top of Steve's and looking up at the few stars they could see in the city.

"He's always good company."

Eddie kissed the top of Steve's head and settled back.

"What about your day?" Steve asked, sinking further into his side.

"My day was boring." Eddie sighed. "But we have new releases hitting the shelves tomorrow. Those days are always fun."

"Any you want?" Steve sounded tired.

It was barely eight at night, but the weed was hitting and he'd been up since five that morning going nonstop.

"Might grab this local band's demo. We're the only place carrying it and they're hoping to do a show in our basement next month, but we'll see. Brad said we had to see how the demos sell."

"Sounds like fun," Steve said.

"You wanna go inside, sweetheart?"

"Not yet. Keep talking. Wanna hear about everything."

"Mkay, baby."

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddielovemonth #love is wanting to hear every detail of their day #cw: recreational drug use #established relationship #stargazing

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bengals-barnesbabe · 4 days

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Imagine your first wash day at Joe's...

word count: 1.1k

a/n: JB9 taglist is now open, if you’d like to be on it comment 'tag me🏈’ and you’ll be added. If you want to be taken off at any point dm me -babe :)

main masterlist

When you first started dating, Joe had only ever seen your hair in a protective style or wrapped in a scarf, granted you met in the summer so those were your safest options.

As time went on and you grew closer, you began to wear your hair out more which required much more work, so you left a mini hair care bag at his place. It only had a few essential items like a leave in, edge control, mini spray bottle, some hair oil and a pack of silk scrunchies. Since you spent the majority of the time at his place he believed that was all you needed to maintain your 4b/4c hair.

You moved in with him a month ago, and today is your long awaited and very much needed wash day. The weather in Cincinnati finally cooled down enough for you to let go of the braids, so you planned to do mini twists. You wanted to start as soon as possible, so when Joe left at 8 in the morning you gathered your bucket of haircare products and locked yourself in the bathroom.

♡ ♥︎ ♡

It was about noon when Coach Taylor let his players out, they had a game that Sunday so he didn't want to run them too ragged. Joe, Tee and Ja'Marr decided to grab a bite to eat before heading to Joe's to cool off.

The moment the 3 men enter your living room is the exact moment you remember that you may have neglected to tell your boyfriend of today's significance.

"Hey babe, we stopped by that place you liked so I brought you- woah." Joe looks wide eyed at the organized mess of different combs/brushes, gels and bottles of hair products with you in the center of it.

You nervously smile at the trio. "Hi." You quickly finish the twist you're on and pause the movie you're 'watching'.

"Are we interrupting something- ohhh yea mhm got it. Let's go, Tee." Ja'Marr says assessing the situation.

"Yo wait, can you do mine next? You know, when you get a chance." Tee asks.

"Man, she aint doing yo crusty ass fade. I'm definitely next."

"There ain't nothing wrong with my cut." The two wide receivers argue on the way out.

You chuckle before turning back to your boyfriend, "I may have forgot to tell you today's wash day." You say sheepishly.

"You think?" He shakes his head and takes a seat on the cleanest spot next to you. "This is a lot, when did you get all of this?"

"I've had it the whole time, most of it stays in the closet a majority of the time." You shrug moving around some of the products so he can stretch out. He gladly scoots in closer and analyses your work in progress.

You had just finished the back before they walked in, your hair is pretty thick and a decent length so washing it took about 2 hours. Then you decided to make your life easier by making the process harder and blowing out the entire thing, that took another hour.

"The line in the back is crooked, but its look pretty nice overall."

You immediately smacked his chest. "Joey, what the hell."

"What'd I do? Do you not want me to be honest?" You glared at him.

"You've been hanging out with Ja'Marr for too long."

He chuckles and presses a kiss to your head, "baby you are the most talented, amazing and most beautiful woman I've ever had the pleasure to meet. And you are doing an absolutely fantastic job on your hair."

"Much better, now let me wash my hands before I see if you actually got my order right." You teased.

"I know you better than I know myself Y/n, you need to stop doubting my 'boyfriend skills'."

While you're gone he couldn't help but look at every single product in his vicinity. Trying not to knock over any of the open bottles of oil, he spots a bright blue gel-cream and reaches for it.

"Doo Gro, well I am growing out my hair." His curiosity getting the best of him, he scoops some out of the jar and sniffs it for safety reasons. Unable to place the scent, he rubs it in his hands then rakes his hands through his hair.

"Joe, what are you doing?" He jumps at your voice, effectively knocking over your bag of combs.

"Shit, baby. What does it look like?" He says now cleaning the mess of combs, in shapes and sizes he'd never seen a day in his life.

"It looks like you wanna be a giant grease ball." You snort picking a handheld mirror off the floor and putting it in his face.

"Jesus, I didn't put that much in." The dollop he picked up had somehow multiplied and made it look like he'd meant to slick back his hair.

"Aww my poor greasy baby, I hope you rubbed it into your scalp as well." You said picking up your plate and shoving the food in your mouth.

"I think I got that covered, does this stuff wash out- Y/n baby calm down it's not going anywhere." He stares wide eyed at the plate that's been half eaten in mere seconds.

"I know, I just haven't eaten since like yesterday. It probably does, just not all of it. At least you'll get thicker hair out of this," You can't help the giggles coming out as you continue to look at your boyfriend's head.

"It's not that funny." He bites his bottom lip as his own start to take over.

"You look like the kids that cover themselves in vaseline and peanut butter." The room's completely filled with your laughter to the point that everything has been forgotten.

"If doing your hair has always been this fun, let me help all the time." He smiles as the laughter subsides.

You shake your head, "I'll let you wash it next time and we'll see if you still wanna be included. Even with your giant football arms, you'll be tapping out before we get to deep conditioning."

He smirks, "all I hear is that you like my arms."

You scoffed and gave him a good once-over, "oh I like more than your arms." Biting your lip, you sit yourself in his lap.

"Oh yea, tell me more." His eyes blazed with desire as your hands run up his arms and down his chest.

"I love how big you are, but you already knew that." You smirk.

"Fuck." He growls pulling your lips flush against his.

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

a/n: inspired by my HS self making the fact that I learned to do my hair during quarantine and mastered mini twists enough for it to become my entire personality. she was very humbled when they became a trend lol, I still love them tho and my nephew who covered himself in vaseline not once but 3 times. :)

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hitlikehammers · 4 months

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a Valentine's-flavoured cuddly-loose-lipped-secret-spilling-hopped-up-on-cold-medicine!Eddie

(and his ever-devoted boyfriend Steve who he's been crushing on since high school but that part's a secret was a secret)

for @thoroughlycollected: featuring the (actually kind of horrible) way schools would sell carnations for $1 or something for Valentine's Day to anonymously deliver to your crush

It turns out that Eddie under the influence comes in a variety of flavors.

High Eddie is languid, touchier than he’s normally prone to which is fucking saying something, and weirdly philosophical. He talks about alternate universes beyond the Upside Down as a meta-something concept. He theorizes how maybe he died in another dimension but some weird particle-subversion-something-something-whatever couldn’t survive re-sublimation in the Right-Side-Up and honestly when the big-brain bullshit skirts the edges of Eddie’s mortality Steve is here for all of none of that part, because Eddie’s heart was beating under Steve’s hands the whole goddamn time, sometimes maybe coaxed by Steve’s hands but from the moment Steve found him and Dustin to the moment he let go at the hospital he didn’t not feel Eddie’s heart beating, and he knew that not least because he would have come apart at the seams if that’s happened, he would have crumbled entirely for losing, or almost-losing, or thinking even close to losing the potential, the promise between them they’d barely skirted but that’d rooted heavy and at home in Steve’s chest already and fuck, fuck—

When Eddie philosophizes in general usually Steve just hangs on his every word, mesmerized by the beauty of him top of bottom, inside and out: somehow all Steve’s. But when his philosophizing leans toward that Steve’s own heartbeat does some weird shit that the weed can’t claim whole credit for and he grabs Eddie hard every time and kisses him until he’s dizzy with it, until they both are, until Eddie’s reduced just to blinking for at least five whole minutes and by that point High Eddie’s on to another topic altogether.

Which is for the best.

By comparison: Drunk Eddie is a lovelorn bastard, a little bit teary with it sometimes even, but always clingy and a touch extra possessive, sappier than he gets on even his most sappy days. One time he told Steve that no, he couldn’t let him go to take a piss because, and Steve remembers this word for word: there’s stardust in my body that’s in your body and that shit’s like magnets, Stevie, like magnets or whatever so my heart’s like pulled to your heart and if you go away without me ever you’ll rip my heart out—because like, a guy remembers that kind of declaration shouted into his ear over the music at a bar that’s safe enough that they’d get away with the excuse that Eddie was plastered, for the way he was hanging on Steve, but thank fuck the lighting was shitty enough that no one could see the flush on Steve’s cheeks, and thank fuck even more that no one could see his magnet-heart and how pounded something wild for the way Eddie draped over him and pressed full against his chest and nuzzled under his chin and made the kind of declarations that Steve had kinda been searching and hoping for all his life.

Drunk or not.

But then there’s another flavor, a specific one: and that’s medicated Eddie. And that Eddie, that cough-medicine-soaked-to-the-gills Eddie?

He’s an adorably giggly little fuck, is what he is.

“I’ll feel better by Saturday,” he lolls his head over to Steve’s shoulder where they sit beside one another, Eddie properly bundled in three blankets with a Sprite in hand. “Pinky-promise,” he slurs a little, but it might just be the stuffed-up nose doing the heavy lifting on garbling his words, and then fuck, of course the dipshit reaches up to seal the deal like the absolutely irresistible goofball he is, and always: snot-coated and all.

“Just rest up, babe,” Steve pulls him close with an arm around around his shoulder, dropping a firm kiss to his forehead: still warmer than Steve would like, in all honesty: “forget about Saturday,” and he means that with his whole chest, because fuck reservations and flowers and boxes of the chocolates Eddie likes best from the city—his boyfriend is sick, his boyfriend is hurting, and there is kinda not a single more important thing than that, than attending to that and making it hurt even the slightest bit less of he’s able, if it’s in his power.

“But we had,” Eddie sniffles heavily, loud and almost painful-sounding; “we had plans,” he whines, and turns toward Steve with overbright-eyes, far too watery:“our first,” he says it like it’s a heartbreak unto itself, bottom little quivering, and fuck.

Steve smiles though he hurts for Eddie right now so hard, want to take all the aching into himself it to spare this beautiful man for a fucking second, just he reaches and traces lilting patters around Eddie’s eyes, his browbone, his jaw, slow down to press soft at his lips:

“You not planning on having many more?” Steve asks soft, a little playful, a little leading: he likes to hear it, and often: that Eddie’s in this as deep and true and Steve is. For the long haul.

“All the more,” Eddie sing-songs sniffily, which is both pathetic and adorable, tugs at Steve’s heartstrings and the corners of his lips alike; “alllll of the more, Stevie-baby,” he draws out in promise, crosses his heart uncoordinated for feeling fuzzy with his cold and being fully cocooned in blankets and again: adorable and pathetic and perfect.

The man’s fucking perfect, even when he’s all stuffed-up and curled sick on the couch.

“Got you the best presents,” he adds on dreamily with a little chuckle, the high-pitched airy kind that float in the air between like bubbles; “so much better than all the other ones,” he adds kinda petulantly, pouts full around the words and maybe it’s the cough medicine, or the fuzziness Steve knows well comes with both the cold itself and the remedies to help alike; he brushes his lips against Eddie’s forehead just to be safe and Eddie giggles a little and leans full-bodied into Steve, unbalanced for the swaddling of most of his frame and that just makes him laugh all the more: he’s no more feverish than he had been, which was admittedly barely, just more than Steve liked, but: yeah.

Yeah, that’s…he kinda guesses it all could combine to have Eddie spewing kinda nonsense, and he probably should just smile and pull his boyfriend closer in his arms and cuddle him some more but he’s both curious and concerned, which turns out to be a potent mix, so:

“Other ones?”

“Mmm,” Eddie hums long and warm as he snuggles up to Steve a little closer, and Steve stretches an arm around him wholly, settles him flush to his chest: “but shh, don’t tell, okay?”

And Eddie sounds breathless, which piques Steve worry alongside the bright flush he finds on Eddie’s cheeks when he looks down: his eyes are fairly clear and…no, forehead’s still the same temperature, not clammy or anything, and Eddie’s just preening as he lazily tips his face up to receive more kisses, mostly unaware that Steve’s attentions serve any other purpose than loving on him.

And , well, no: they really don’t, it’s just the love’s multi-layered here, just now. It’s love, and it’s devotion, and it’s dedication to Eddie’s general wellbeing all wrapped into one. So: yeah.

“Swear,” Steve decides to play along, hoping for clues as to just how loopy Eddie’s ended up for one end of the sick-stick or the other; “what’s up, baby?” he draws circles over the harsh jut of Eddie’s clavicle, little massages that Eddie eats up with a dimpley grin as he sighs, back to the dreamy-tone again:

“Flowers.”

Steve buries a little smile into Eddie’s tangly tresses, because like…

“You got me flowers?”

No one’s ever really gotten Steve flowers.

“Noooo,” Eddie giggles and shakes his head under Steve’s chin as he buries closer into Steve’s chest, stretches Steve’s already mostly unbuttoned shirt out to damn well nuzzle the fuzz of curls beneath, and he makes this fucking…soft little half-whine that’s almost a purr, that vibrates straight through Steve’s ribs and his heart goddamn flutters, fucking hell—

“But that’s a great idea, can you remind Eddie tomorrow?” he pulls back with those fucking button eyes so big, as he talks about himself like he’s another person with such innocence then chuckles, burrowing against in Steve’s chest:

“I’d love to buy you good flowers, the nice kind, not the ones in a ten-gallon bucket sitting getting brown,” and his voice is all frown but…adorable, fuck, he’s such a fucking adorable drugged-up sicko, Steve can’t really handle this shit.

“And it was so sad,” he sniffles against Steve’s chest, and hell if Steve knows if it’s congestion or something like…mounting? Because he’s so sad? “The white ones, because they got brown so fast and, and,” and his words get caught up as his lungs rebel, as he sneezes, shakes from his core and Steve’s hands grab for him, tighten around him fiercely and Eddie gives into that protective instinct in Steve like clockwork, magnetic and automatic and Steve loves him so goddamn fucking much.

He presses his lips to Eddie’s temple as Eddie catches his breath and groans a little; kisses his over-warm skin just because.

“Carnations,” Eddie sniffles once he gets his bearings back enough; “are symbolssss,” he draws out long like a sloppy hiss; “of devohhh,” and he coughs a little, and pouts at being interrupted so he huffs heavier on the last syllable: “shun.”

De…devotion? Fucking…carnations?

Shit, Steve hasn’t seen a carnation, at least not knowingly; not since—

“And white ones mean pure,” Eddie rambles, all nasally but indignant anyhow, somehow; “so white carnations would be pure devotion,” and Eddie untucks himself from Steve’s chest for a second to look at him straight on with a little wobbly grin.

“You didn’t even notice, did you,” Eddie says, and there’s no sadness in it; but fuck, Steve…

Steve might fucking, like, start fucking crying.

Because he knows exactly what Eddie’s talking about, now.

“I noticed,” because it was the fucking carnations, the last time he thought about them: Hawkins High School, where they decided to hold up the horrible preteen tradition of anonymous flowers delivered for Valentine’s Day, so three people could be reminded they were the top of the fucking food chain with a pile of crushed flowers still dripping from their buckets of water, the little colored-paper tags soggy with the writing unreadable, while the rest of the school got to feel less-than when they got nothing, and Steve got more than his share even in the years after he toppled from on high in the social hierarchy, but they’d never mattered to him, they’d kinda made him feel uncomfortable. Except—and he could never explain it, but it was predictable, it happened every fucking year—in the collection of reds and pinks there was always one that stood out, all on it’s own.

A white one; Steve never even caught that they’d gone brown at the edges.

“Every year I noticed,” he exhales, and breathes Eddie in from the top of his head because, because—

Every year? Meant…meant every year. Freshman on up.

“My heart used to do this thing,” Steve murmurs against Eddie’s scalp, kinda; and yeah, it’s basically doing the same goddamn thing right now, a little trippy and dizzy and just…it’d scared him a little.

He recognizes now it’s how his chest feels when what he’s doing, where he is, who he’s with, who he holds inside tight close with him: it’s how his chest feels when what he’s doing is right.

“When I saw the white ones,” Steve whispers, and kisses against Eddie’s hair again, and again, because god; “only one person ever sent those.”

“Sometimes I’d have to run, like, hide in the gym showers so no one would know it was me,” Eddie matches his whisper, almost conspiratorial as he reaches out for Steve hand and Steve’s more than happy to meet him, to grasp tight, so tight; “hated gym, did you know that?”

“Oh, I had no idea,” Steve deadpans as he nuzzles Eddie’s hair, while Eddie goes back to nuzzles his chest, and Eddie’s breathing starts to even out and Steve thinks maybe he’s asleep, but then—

“Stevie?”

“Yeah, baby?” Steve wraps his arm around Eddie a little tighter.

“You’ll remind me about the flowers?” he asks, so goddamn soft; “wanna buy the best white carnations you’ve ever seen in your whole life.”

And Steve promises, yeah, of course—except: he kinda thinks maybe he already got the best ones years ago, again, and again.

He won’t discourage more of the very best, though, so long as Eddie’s the one next to him, handing them to him face to face, no hiding anywhere, just: them.

Pure devotion.

✨ ao3 link here

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

♥️

divider credit here

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fluff #established relationship #established steddie #domestic fluff #valentine's day #sickfic #but like: eddie's a sniffly-cuddly-bundle-of-cough-medicine #and steve is a doting and caring and adoring boyfriend about it #secret time: eddie's been crushing on steve since high school #high school carnation sales #secret admirer #happy ending #or: happy-SAPPY ending #stranger things

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avatarfan11 · 5 days

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Day 29 Brightest in the dark

Zuko: Here i made you this. *hands over a wrapped gift*

Katara: Thank you so much honey *opens gift and takes out a bracelet with green cryatals*

Katara: Ooohhh Zuko its beautiful.

Zuko: Watch this *turns off the candles*

Katara: *Bracelet glows green in the dark* is that what i think it is.

Zuko: *Smiles and embraces Katara* Love burns brightest in the dark.

@zutaramonth

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sensitiveheartless · 2 years

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#kind of love the idea of Chuuya using his ability to maintain balance during every day activities #so he gets marginally clumsier when dazai is attached to him #also canon has convinced me that their first instinct is to protect each other so #dazai catches him every time this happens #I could go on a whole rant about that lol #anyway this was supposed to be one drawing of them walking around together in the cold and then it turned into this lol #the domestic misadventures of soukoku #I’m just gonna use that tag for all my ‘they’re already in an established relationship’ comics #my art #bsd #soukoku #bungou stray dogs #bsd chuuya #bsd dazai

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daily-hanamura · 6 months

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#p4 #p4g #persona 4 #persona 4 golden #hanamura yosuke #yosuke hanamura #souyo #the fact that whether the player agrees or disagrees with her is irrelevant to yu's perception of his relationship with yosuke #in that it is strong #in that they get along #in that yeah yu essentially says thats right we DO get along well #i guess there isn't really a right or wrong answer but the second option rings a lot truer to me #thinking again about yosuke's “you were transferring from the city so i thought we would get along”#except yosuke's arc eventually being about “it's not where you're from or where you are it's who you're with”#yosuke also thinking that they were going to have a largely superficial friendship at first except it's upended later #but i also love that yu could establish that depth and his attachment/connection to yosuke as early as MAY #this is ONE MONTH after yu pulls yosuke out of the trashcan #day 2198427 of me yelling about how important yosuke is to yu even if yosuke doesn't see it IT'S SO OBVIOUS TO EVERYONE #he's good with his queue

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thisapplepielife · 5 months

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Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

Five Christmases

Prompt Day 25: Christmas | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: Established Relationship, Future Fic, Christmas Day, Full Schedule, Family & Friends, Mostly Fluff, A Little Obligation, Steve POV

Christmas, 1999

8:06 AM

Steve is towel drying his hair, when Eddie pops into the doorway and taps his watch.

"The day has just started and we're already six minutes behind, Harrington. C'mon!"

Steve nods, "We'll be fine."

"Steve! Five Christmases! You committed us to five! That's a tight fucking schedule," Eddie shouts, and Steve just laughs. Usually he's the uptight one.

"I told you this was a bad idea," Steve says, just poking at him further. Just for fun, as a Christmas treat.

"This was your idea, asshole," Eddie says, slamming the bathroom door behind him, "I'm leaving in nine minutes, with or without you!"

"Okay, Bono!" Steve screams, not even sure if Eddie heard him.

9:12 AM

"Sorry we're late!" Eddie yells, pushing the front door open, letting themselves inside. "It's Steve's fault!"

Wayne gets up when he hears the door open, and Steve hugs Wayne. Eddie needs to chill the fuck out. Nobody is going to care if they are a few minutes late. Well, his parents will care. But nobody else will, especially not Wayne, that's for damn sure.

Wayne's house smells wonderful, like maple syrup, coffee and bacon. This was a perfect first stop of the day, nobody does breakfast better than Wayne.

They help him carry it all to the small formica kitchen table, sliding into the comfortable vinyl chairs, and it tastes as good as it smells.

This is Christmas.

The one thing they've done every year they've been together. Breakfast with Wayne. It's the only true Christmas tradition they have, and Steve wouldn't trade it for the world.

11:58 AM

Steve looks at his watch. They definitely aren't late as they stand on the steps, having rung the bell at the Harrington residence.

Steve debates ringing it a second time, but just waits. Surely they heard it.

And it takes forever, because it's cold as shit out here, but his mother finally answers the door.

"Hi, mom. Merry Christmas," Steve says, and she nods her head at them, opening the door wider.

"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Harrington," Eddie says, politely.

The long, formal dining room table is set up, and since it's just for the four of them, it's a little ridiculous. But he slides into his chair, a thousand miles away from everyone else at the table. His parents at either end, and Eddie across from him, hands folded in his lap.

He's nervous, Steve can tell. It never gets more comfortable, this awkward tip-toeing they all do around each other.

His parents know about Eddie, but would rather pretend otherwise, Steve supposes.

So, they eat their awkward meal, in uncomfortable stretches of silence.

In the car, Steve reaches over and takes Eddie's hand into his own, bringing it up to his lips.

"Thank you," Steve says, and Eddie nods. "The next one will be more fun," Steve promises and Eddie grins, wide and excited.

2:11 PM

They are barely up the walkway when the front door swings open, banging against the hallway wall.

"Shoes!" Steve hears being hollered from the house, but it's too late. Eddie's got an armful of little girl, despite her mother's warning.

"Uncle Eddie, Santa came!" she yells and Eddie smiles, brushing the snow off of her bare feet.

Gareth appears in the doorway, to usher them inside, as his daughter regales them with tales of all her new toys that Santa brought this morning.

Eddie puts her down once they're inside, and rattles the sack he has thrown over his shoulder, full of more presents.

Gareth shakes his head, but hugs Eddie once Eddie's handed over the sack, and she's ran into the living room, to open them up.

"You didn't have to do that," Gareth says, and Steve hears Eddie laugh. Of course they did.

"Sure we did, that's our girl, too, you know. And it's our right, as her super fun uncles, to spoil her rotten," Eddie states.

Gareth laughs, and settles onto the armrest of the chair Eddie has plopped down into, to watch her tear open the wrapping paper with delight.

5:33 PM

"Merry Christmas, dickhead," Steve says, and hugs Dustin.

"Back atcha," Dustin answers, guiding them into the living room. There's a nice fire going, and it's cozy.

Steve's glad Henderson finally moved closer to home, again. It's been too long.

Dustin pours them both a drink, and they sit and just talk. It's quiet, calm, and comfortable. All things Steve never would have assigned to Dustin Henderson, even ten years ago. But he's grown up, right before their very eyes.

Their kid.

He'll always be their kid.

7:45 PM

Robin's running around her kitchen, and it smells slightly of smoke, so as soon as they're in the door, they both step in to help her, so she doesn't actually burn the place down. She wanted to do dinner by herself this year, and they'd all agreed, but she's clearly in over her head.

"I just spilled on the burner! It's fine! Nothing's on fire!" she yells, and Steve picks up the smoke detector from the counter, that's clearly been yanked off the wall.

"I can confirm!" Robin's girlfriend yells from the other room.

And honestly? Steve thinks they're both right, taking a good look around the kitchen. It all looks really good. A huge mess, for sure, but damn good.

"It looks great, Robbie. You're killing it," Steve says, hugging her from behind, and she shrugs him off, still moving at warp speed around the kitchen.

When they head towards the table, Steve kisses Robin on the top of the head before taking his seat, "Thanks for going to all this trouble."

Robin just rolls her eyes.

11:54 PM

"Merry Christmas," Steve says, as Eddie slides into bed, flopping against his pillow, groaning at the simple pleasure of the act.

"I have one more present for you," Steve says, sliding his hand over Eddie's bare stomach, and that gets Eddie's attention.

"I'm listening…"

Steve laughs, and leans over, kissing him.

Notes: The idea came from the Gilmore Girls episode where they have to go to four Thanksgivings in one day. Then I was googling the spelling of Christmases (to make sure, ha) and realized there is a movie called Four Christmases. So, that too, I guess, lol.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

#steddieholidaydrabbles #christmas #christmas fic #future fic #christmas day #established relationship #steddie #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve harrington #gareth (stranger things)#robin buckley #wayne munson #dustin henderson #steve harrington's parents #stranger things #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles

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xx-thedarklord-xx · 6 months

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Resting Rumors

Rule one as a new Ministry recruit, avoid Harry Potter. He's rude, mean, intimidating and grouchy. Except—wait—why is he smiling? Wait, he's married to who?

Ao3

#Drarry #Harry Potter #Draco Malfoy #Established Relationship #Auror Harry Potter #Harry is grouchy #and a little mean #unless you're Draco #or their son #Scorpius Malfoy #XxTheDarkLordxX Writes #Advent Month day eight!

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daydreamingyuta · 7 months

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My Rockstar | Yuta

summary: fluff, being a supportive girlfriend to your aspiring rockstar boyfriend, Yuta, was fun. But when his band starts to gain a following, you're unexpectedly hit with jealousy from him suddenly having girls all over him. word count: 2,493 a/n: Happy Yuta Day!!! 💚

Sitting on a plastic fold out chair in a garage, listening to your boyfriend Yuta and the rest of his band play a song that he wrote for you, was always something you looked forward to. Today, there are two other girls there, the girlfriends of Johnny and Jaehyun you assumed. You take the time to say hi and offer them some water, but you don’t remember their names because you know they’ll be replaced next week by some other girls, so there’s no point.

That’s what’s so different about Yuta, he only wanted you. Being the lead singer and guitarist, there were occasionally girls who would throw themselves at him, but you had his heart and that was one thing you loved so much about him.

Another thing you loved was his passion and drive. His band hasn't taken off yet, playing small gigs here and there, but that doesn't stop him from believing that his band will be huge one day. He often shares these dreams with you and every time, you can’t help but fall for him all over again. He was going to become a rockstar, he knew it, and so did you.

⸻

Sitting down on Yuta's living room couch, you watch him pace back and forth in the kitchen while he’s on the phone with someone. You can’t hear the conversation but you can tell he’s upset about something. You watch him hang the phone up and you decide to get up and walk into the kitchen.

You plant yourself right in front of him and run your hands through his hair. “Yuyu, what’s wrong?”

“The ‘Lone Palm Bar’ canceled on us again.”

“They’re not gonna let you play?” You watch as he shakes his head, his eyes looking tired from practicing hard for the gig that now wasn’t going to happen. You raise your hands up to his face to cup his cheeks into your hands, “Hey, don’t worry. They’ll be venues begging you to play one day.”

He nods his head at you as you watch a smile creep onto his lips. You adored the fact that you could make him feel better. He snakes his arms around your waist, backing you up so that you’re leaning against the kitchen island, “One day soon, baby.”

You nod your head as you bring your lips to his cheeks and press two kisses on them. “You’ve been practicing so much lately, I think you need to catch up on some sleep.” He rests his forehead on your shoulder and nods, pulling you closer into a tight hug, “You’ll stay the night with me?”

You hadn’t planned to stay the night, but you knew Yuta slept the best with his girl by his side. Plus, in the beginning of your relationship he had insisted on keeping the essentials at each other's places, so you had all that you needed. “I’ll stay if you let me wear my favorite shirt.”

He lifts his head up and motions it towards his room, “You know where it is.”

You practically skip to his room, and once inside, you beeline to his closet. You skim his clothes before you finally find it, his old ‘One Ok Rock’ shirt which was easily the most comfy t-shirt you’ve ever worn. Yuta has had it since he first started liking the band and he told you that his heart melted a little every time he saw you in the shirt, so of course it quickly became your favorite shirt to wear when you slept over.

You do the rest of your nightly routine in the bathroom as Yuta waits in the bed for you. You expected him to already be asleep by the time you were finished, but when you walk out of his bathroom, he’s propped up on the bed with his hands behind his head. You tilt your head to question him but all he does is a twirling motion with his finger, signaling to you to do a spin for him. You do as you're told, letting him get a good view of the cozy outfit you both loved so much.

Once he looked satisfied, you crawl into bed with him, “Ok we have to go to sleep now, Yuta.” You say, sternly because the both of you had a habit of talking until the sun came up.

“Hmm, come here then.” He says, welcoming you to cuddle into him, resting your head on his chest.

⸻

You’re both woken up by the buzzing sound of Yuta’s phone ringing against the nightstand. Yuta answers it, half-asleep, but as soon as the person on the phone told him who they were, he was wide awake. You could only hear Yuta’s side of the conversation, but his expression tells you that it’s something very exciting. The conversation comes to an end and as soon as Yuta hangs up the phone, he turns to you.

“Baby, we have a gig at Boulevard Hall!” He says, beaming at you, not able to hide his excitement.

“Boulevard Hall? That’s bigger than any gig you’ve ever had, Yuta!”

“I know and they. asked. us.” He says, emphasizing every word. “Can you believe that?” You watch as Yuta gets up and starts getting dressed. “They had an artist cancel on them at the last minute and one of the guys working there has been listening to our music lately so they decided to ask us. I have to go tell the guys.” He says as he pulls his shirt over his head and walks over to you to give you a kiss.

“This is going to be so big for you guys, I’m so proud of you Yuta.” You say, truly meaning it, the proudness you feel in your heart right now is more than you’ve ever felt before. Yuta showers you with a few kisses before he leaves, since the call was so last minute they’ll have to practice day and night to be fully prepared.

⸻

Yuta had a few pre-show rituals he always did before going out on stage. One of them was always having hot tea to soothe his throat so he can sing the best he can. Another, was always making sure he wears the earrings you got him for the first birthday you two shared together. However, your favorite pre-show ritual of his was when you got to sit on his lap and do his eyeliner.

You arrive backstage a little before the show starts. Your eyes scan the room for Yuta and when you see him he already has his earrings on and some tea in hand. You stride over to him making sure to say a quick hello to Taeyong and Mark on the way. This was their biggest show yet, so they were all visibly nervous. Even Yuta was a bit on edge, you can tell by the way his hands were fidgeting but as soon as you slide onto his lap, his tense demeanor was replaced by calm. “Hi, baby. Ready for your eyeliner?” You ask, pulling out the makeup from your bag. He nods his head and you get to work, deciding to go for a bit of a smoky look.

“You know, I looked out at the crowd before I came in.”

“How many people are out there?”

You pause for a moment so that you can really see his reaction when you tell him. “Baby… there's like at least four hundred people.”

“Four hundred?” Yuta almost drops you off his lap from shock but his firm grip on you stopped that from happening. Once you get comfortable again he kisses you like you were the reason why so many people came. You knew he was really in shock when he let you finish his eyeliner as he just sat there in amazement.

You thought he was going to say something else about the crowd but he surprised you. “You look so pretty tonight angel, trying to distract me while I'm on stage?”

His sweet words always made you blush, but that didn’t stop your mind from thinking about all the girls you saw out there in the crowd. “I don’t know if i’ll be distracting you, there are so many pretty girls out there tonight.”

You had finished his eyeliner so you were about to get off his lap but he stopped you. “Hey, don’t say things like that.” His demeanor very serious.

“I wasn’t saying anything Yuta, the girls out there are gorgeous.” You respond, matter-of-factly but not looking into his eyes.

“I’m sure that’s true but they won’t be the one distracting me y/n. I only have eyes for you, you know that.”

Of course you know this to be true. Sometimes your mind just went to the worst especially since it’s the norm for musicians to get with fans. You nod your head and Yuta smiles, pressing his lips on your forehead.

You slide off his lap when their manager announces that they go on stage in ten. “Ok, I should get out there.” You say as you notice the other girlfriends start to leave. You grab your bag and wrap your arms around Yuta’s neck, standing on your tippy toes to give him a few kisses. “Good luck, baby. You’ll be amazing, like always.”

He pulls you into a tight hug and presses his lips onto yours one last time. “Thank you, baby. I’ll look at you if I need encouragement, ok?” He says, loving the fact that he always has his girl cheering him on in the crowd.

You nod your head and head out the room to get into the crowd, ecstatic for the show to start.

⸻

The show was absolutely perfect. You had been to every one of their shows prior and this was definitely their best yet. As soon as you enter backstage, Yuta engulfs you into a hug that was a bit sweaty but you couldn’t care less. “You were amazing, baby.” You say, your voice slightly muffled from speaking into his chest.

“I felt it, y/n. It was like-” Yuta’s sentence was cut off by his manager telling him that there were people waiting to get pictures with him and the rest of the band. Yuta flashes you a shocked expression before turning around cooly to meet his fans who had stayed after the show.

You watch from afar, with a proud smile on your face. The band’s never gotten this type of attention before and you knew they were all basking in it. You were relishing the moment too until you noticed how close all the girls are to Yuta, and how pretty they are, and how they’re finding any excuse to touch him. You really were trying to not think this way, but as soon as one of the fans motions to her cheek and Yuta presses a quick kiss on it, you are fully taken aback.

You didn’t want to make a scene so you just decided to try and leave. The only issue was that you didn’t exactly know where the exit was and in the state of mind you were currently in, you found yourself lost. You were opening doors at random until your tears began to fall and you decided to hide yourself in a storage room until they stopped.

You tried to calm yourself down, but the tightness in your throat just constricted even more. Your tears were less about a stupid kiss on the cheek and more about the fact that if a kiss on the cheek wasn’t crossing the line, what was? You really didn’t want to doubt Yuta’s words of devotion to you, but you couldn’t stop thinking about the worst happening in the future. Ten minutes went by before you heard a light knock on the storage room door. “Baby? I was looking for you and someone said they saw you come in here. Are you ok?”

You open the door and it’s obvious you have been crying. You try to deny that anything is wrong but obviously Yuta knows you better than to believe that. “Baby, I can tell something’s bothering you. What’s wrong?”

You don’t dare look into his eyes, knowing that your tears were bound to fall again if you did. You really weren’t going to say anything but the words slipped out before you could stop them, “I feel like it’s just only a matter of time Yuta.”

“A matter of time before what?”

“Before you actually give in to one of those girls throwing themselves at you.”

“Is that what you think? Y/n…Is this about me kissing that fan on the cheek? I should have asked you if you would be ok with it-”

“No, it’s not really about that. I just didn’t think that it would be this hard seeing you get this kind of attention and I know that that’s selfish of me because this is your dream but-”

“Y/n, it’s not selfish. Honestly if it was the other way around I would have a hard time with guys showering you with love too. but you know how I feel about you. If that was crossing the line tonight, then I’ll never do it again.” He steps closer to you, regret in his eyes. “But I promise you, I mean it with my whole heart when I tell you that you’re the only one for me. I mean, who was with me every step of the way?”

You didn’t say anything at first, but you could tell that this wasn’t a rhetorical question Yuta was asking you. “I was.” You say, meekly.

“You were, y/n. And who was the only one cheering me on when no one else would?”

Again, you felt silly answering his question, but he wanted you to answer again.“I was, Yuta.”

“Then how could anyone ever compare to you, baby?” Yuta cups your face into his hands and kisses you gently. “You’re mine. You have my heart. Nobody else. I've written you a million songs telling you exactly that, and I'll write a million more if that's what it takes for you to believe me."

"I believe you, Yuta."

He flashes you his smile that always makes your heart skip a beat, "That's my girl." He says, giving you another tender kiss that makes your head feel slightly dizzy. “Let’s go home, ok?”

“Wait, aren’t the other boys still meeting fans?” You say, stopping him.

“They are, but I have the only fan I need.” You cringe at him, but you can’t deny that his words make your heart immeasurably happy. You knew Yuta was only going to get more famous and he was only going to get more attention, but you found comfort in the fact that if you ever felt unsure about his feelings towards you again, he would always be there to remind you.

#happy birthday yuta!#happy yuta day!!#yuta #nct #nct 127 #fanfic #fluff #fanfiction #k-pop #yuta x reader #yuta x y/n #imagine #nct scenarios #established relationship

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drarrily-we-row-along · 8 months

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October 2: Friends, Family, Loved Ones

It was Harry’s birthday, and as much he felt embarrassed when a big fuss was made over him, he loved that Draco had planned him a party out in the manor grounds, a big white tent lit up with sparkling fairy lights.

The food was good and the company even better. All of his friends, family, and loved ones gathered around playing games and telling stories; then once they were drunk enough, singing karaoke. He was giggling into his glass of wine (his favorite: Draco had given him an entire bottle just for him) as Hagrid finished a mopey ballad.

Draco was looking unbearably smug about how happy Harry was and Harry couldn’t help but find the smugness horribly endearing. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to his rosy cheek, warm from wine and happiness, “I love you,” he murmured before tucking his nose against Draco’s neck, “thank you for a brilliant birthday.”

“Sap,” Draco accused with a soft tsk, but he was pulling Harry closer, pressing kisses into his hair. “I have one more surprise for you,” he said, and Harry could hear the quiet undercurrent of nerves.

He kissed Draco’s neck, pausing to suck lightly at it just to hear him gasp and feel his body wriggle, “you’ve spoiled me rotten today already,” he said and he’d meant it to sound accusatory but it only came out ridiculously pleased and terribly fond, his whole chest like spun cotton candy, fluffy and light, and sticky sweet.

“Well,” Draco said, “this one is a little bit selfish.”

Harry hummed and just cuddled a little closer so that he was more in Draco’s chair than his own.

"I have to get up to give it to you," he said, chuckling softly and pressing even more kisses into Harry's hair.

With a heaving sigh, he forced his body upright once more with a piteous groan.

His boyfriend leaned down and pecked his lips, "Love you," he murmured against his mouth.

"Mmmh," he hummed, wrapping a hand around Draco's neck and drawing him closer.

"Menace," Draco murmured, kissing him, kissing him, kissing him, like there was nothing else that he'd rather do.

Harry grinned up at him when he pulled back, trailing the tips of his fingers over Draco's flushed cheeks.

"Tell me you love me," Draco requested, soft and sweet, smiling and open.

"I love you," he said, soft and sure, the truest thing he's ever known.

With a mischievous smirk, he gave Harry a wink and sauntered off. It was a couple minutes later when Draco appeared on stage, wearing a sequin top and a pair of short white shorts, tummy peaking out as he pulled the microphone out of the holder.

He cleared his throat, "I wanted to thank you all for being here to celebrate my very favorite person," he said and Harry's face stretched into a smile so wide it made his cheeks hurt. "And also for bearing witness to what's about to happen," he added as the choruses of 'awws' and whistling died down.

Draco gave a nod to Blaise who was standing at the ready by the karaoke machine waiting to hit play. And then Draco started singing, looking out at Harry with a huge grin.

"The moon is high, like your friends the night that we first met," he started.

And Harry laughed at the memory, they had all been high that night after they'd graduated. Lounging about or dancing around the club, causing all sorts of chaos.

"Now I've read all of the books beside your bed," he continued with a wink. Harry grinned up at him, because that was true too, they'd read most of them together, actually, curled up under the duvet. He hadn't been read to as a child, but Draco more than made up for it with the voices and the dramatic way he read.

"The wine is cold, like the shoulder that I gave you in the street. Cat and mouse for a month, or two, or three," he sang on, twisting his body to look at Harry coyly and Harry remembered the months between when he’d started to feel attracted to Draco and when Draco had started to believe him, "now I wake up in the night to watch you breathe."

There was another round of 'awes' and some pretend wretching but Draco rolled his eyes and sang on. Meeting Harry's gaze once more as he sang, "I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings," and Harry's heart flew into his throat at the implication, did he mean it? Was that even possible?

"And I hate accidents, except when we went from friends," he gestured between the two of them, "to this."

His heart burst, Draco did so hate the unplanned, abhorred surprises. That proclamation-

"Darling, you're the one I want in paper rings, in picture frames, in dirty dreams-" a chorus of laughter and whistling broke out and Draco's cheeks flushed bright red but he kept singing, staring at Harry with a naked devotion and affection.

He couldn't breathe with it, his heart rattled painfully around his chest.

Draco sang the next verse before jumping down off the stage and making his way to Harry, bending down as he sang "kiss me once, cause you know I've had a long night," Harry leaned in obligingly and kissed his cheek. "Kiss me twice cause it's gonna be alright," and there were those nerves tingling from Draco's consciousness and into Harry's. He leaned in and kissed his cheek again. "Three times, cause I've waited my whole life." And this time he leaned in to press a hasty kiss to Harry's lips like he couldn't help himself while they counted him back in.

He sang the refrain again, climbing into Harry's lap as he melted into the bridge, "I want to drive away with you, I want your complications too, I want your dreary Mondays-"

Harry's throat went tight around those words, around the way that Draco loved him when he couldn't make heads or tails of the darkness that threatened to overwhelm him.

"-Wrap your arms around me, baby boy," he said, giving one of Harry's arms a little tug.

He repeated the bridge, wrapping an arm around Harry's neck and carding his fingers tenderly through Harry's curls, making Harry tear up again as he stared up into those beautiful silver eyes.

Draco moved into the refrain again, slower and a little sweeter, like a promise. "I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings." Harry gripped him a little tighter, "you're the one I want," he sang softly. "And I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this, uh huh, darling.”

He jumped up, Harry’s fingers trailing after him as he went, singing the refrain again as he made his way to Pansy who was holding out a small box for him. “In paper rings, in picture frames, in all my dreams,” he sang as he made his way back over and dropped to his knees. “You’re the one I want,” he sang, looking up as he opened the box to reveal a gold band.

Harry’s hands flew to his mouth, like a complete cliche, “Draco,” he whispered as the crowd around them went unnaturally still.

“Marry me?” he asked, eyes tight around the edges like he thought Harry could possibly say no.

“Yes, of course yes,” he said, “you silly, perfect man. Of course.”

The room erupted into cheering but Harry could hardly hear it, too wrapped up in his love to notice.

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Written for @flufftober prompt 2 “friends, family, loved ones”

#drarry #love #soft #fluff #proposal #flufftober #day 2 #we’re behind but 🤷🏼‍♀️ what can you do?#paper rings #I’m a little obsessed with that song #and it seems like Draco really would be singing that at karaoke #short and sweet #silly #established relationships

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