#who else has a wife guy aura

[hi-intrepid-heroes]

dale lee using his entire first turn in d20 history to help his wife do cool shit is truly so iconic of him

#my hot take is dale shouldve done better in the twitter wife guy poll #who else has a wife guy aura #dimension 20 #d20 #originals #dimension 20 spoilers #d20 spoilers #the unsleeping city #d20 the unsleeping city #tuc #d20 tuc #the unsleeping city chapter ii #the unsleeping city spoilers #tucii #dimension 20 tuc #judith watches the unsleeping city #dale lee #sofia lee

[travellingarmy]

✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ┄•͙✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙

✦❘༻𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝙼𝚢 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝༺❘✦

Ch. 1 - The Beginning of an End

Malleus Draconia x fem!reader

Chapter list + Summary

[Next]

Do not steal/copy + paste my works and upload it anywhere else.

⊰♤⊱⊰◇⊱⊰♡⊱⊰☆⊱⊰♧⊱⊰♤⊱⊰◇⊱⊰♡⊱⊰☆⊱⊰♧⊱

He didn’t come to the room last night either..

It’s been six days— yes, just six— since you last saw your husband. Although to you, it felt like it was more than that. No, he hasn’t gone off to anywhere else in this godforsaken world, he’s just.. Well, somewhere in this large castle. You heaved a weak sigh as one single thought came to your head: Malleus Draconia.. Your heart thumps just a tad bit faster. Even without knowing who he was, just the name alone sounds frightening. Fortunately and unfortunately, you were well acquainted with that name and have had many yet brief conversations. 

He was the prince of the Valley of Thorns, the only successor to the throne but most importantly, he was none other than.. “My husband..” You muttered underneath your breath. The clicking of the heels abruptly stop as you shudder on the spot at that name. 

It was honestly unbelievable how you went from a lowly daughter of a combat baron (the lowest rank in nobility) to be the wife of a prince, essentially making you a princess. 

Nevertheless, whether you are now a princess of a very powerful kingdom, your relationship with your husband was essentially.. Nonexistent. Well, other than mere business relationships you both have. In fact, it was strictly business that he did not show up in the chambers the night of your wedding. You can’t fault him, however, since you did not want to be wedded to him either. He must be disgusted with me.. You believed that to be true since once again, you were just a baron’s daughter with probably below average looks. Rarely had noble men would throw themself at you willingly.

Whatever, you should not let those thoughts get into your head and get you into low spirits. You had a history lesson to catch and that’s what you should be focusing on right now. What has been done is done and you can’t sulk about your nonexistent love life and your continued nonexistent relationship with Malleus. 

You sigh and continue in your steps. Looking at the decorated walls of the castle, you would occasionally find portraits. Of whom? You could only presume that it was none other than the royal family and those who came before. There weren’t many new faces within these paintings, that much you noticed. No doubt in your mind that it’s because despite the kingdom being around for so long, they have only a few monarchs because one monarch could reign for centuries on the throne. 

You tried looking for your husband’s portraits but so far, you’ve only managed to find two: one was a stand-alone painting and the other was with his grandmother. In neither portrait was he smiling. Now thinking about it, you don’t recall him smiling on your wedding day too.. Just how cold is this guy? You had a pensive look, bringing a finger to your chin. He doesn’t meet me in the room and he doesn’t even smile.. Is he aloof to everyone around him? You were now doubting if he’d be fit to be king in the future. 

Ah. You probably shouldn’t be thinking that way of your husband. If he knew, you’d most likely be stripped of your title as princess and sent back home where you’ll most likely have to face Her Majesty in the queen’s court back home. “Heh.. I don’t want that..” You itch your cheek, sweat dropping at the mere thought. You've only met her once— when she was congratulating you on your marriage— and just as the rumours had said, she was beautiful, yet held a menacing aura of authority. But I guess that’s normal if she’s queen..

“Princess.” Snapping you out of your continued, meaningless thoughts, a voice from just further down the hall had caught you off guard. You look ahead and see that one of the doors had opened and that somebody was standing there, most of their body seen and what could not be was hidden by the large, oak door. “I had been waiting a while for you. Don’t you understand that my time is precious to be on wait for you?” The person— er, fae— was wearing glasses and had her hair up in a tight bun. Her outfit was almost like that of a butler’s, having a tailcoat, but instead of uniformed pants, it was a pencil skirt. She had an air of authority and seemed to always look down on you. 

“Tch. You humans really are so clueless..” She mumbles under her breath and from the distance you were in, you couldn’t hear her. However, you did see the sharp look of disdain on her face before telling you to hurry up and to get inside the library. It was where you had your history lessons after all. 

“Honestly, what do you take us for?” She speaks her mind once you sit down on your seat across from her. “You will be at the prince’s side; instead of daydreaming, learn about this country’s history and its citizens, will you?” She snaps and slams a heavy book on the table in front of you. You stiffened, heart beating fast at the fright. “Sorry, but I’m only late by 3 minutes..” You sweat dropped at her angry, wide arm gestures as you defend yourself. 

“THREE!? My time is precious. How many—“ At that moment, you learned to tune her out once you’ve ascertained she was going to go on and rant to your face. Since day one, you’ve established that she didn’t like you very much despite you trying your best to be polite and flatter her. She would nitpick every little mistake she had seen in you even though she wasn’t an etiquette teacher. When she does, she’d talk for hours, essentially wasting time that could have been spent on learning. On a good day, she will glare daggers at you and then continue on with the lecture or rant for half an hour.. 

That’s the thing. There was never a good day for her. 

At this point, it was best to drop the flowery words saved for her and just let her rant endlessly. 

—

“Will the prince be joining for dinner today?” You ask to no one in particular, letting either of these maids stationed in the dining hall answer. When there wasn’t an answer, you assumed that it was a no and that they had decided to not answer to the likes of you whenever you asked. You wanted to sigh, honestly, at the lack of a response. 

So there you were, only hearing the sound of your own cutlery as you took small bites of your meal. It wasn’t because you weren’t hungry, but you were sure that these maids will have something to gossip about in scorn later should you make an error. Even if you were new to the country and their customs may be different, you were well learned to know that servants shouldn’t be treating someone of status, especially such as yourself, in such a manner. Alas, you could only resign yourself to just let bygones be bygones. 

If you were to scold them, your name will surely be the talk amongst nobles for a long while, most likely saying how you will be a spiteful queen. Your reputation would only go from bad to worse, seeing as a ‘mere’ human is lecturing creatures like them. 

You kind of miss your home and your father.. Even if it was just you two left, everyday was a cherishable time. Even with these short days that felt like that’s been dragging its seconds a bit too long, you find yourself reminiscing the life you left behind a little bit too much despite only having gone to your new forever home just short of a few days ago. 

… “I’ll be going to my room now.” You dab your mouth with a cloth napkin just in case you had any of the dinner smeared on your face and stood up. Whatever was left of your dinner was promptly cleaned off the table and thrown into the bin. 

I could really use a warm bath today.. You walked the somewhat familiar halls thinking to yourself. Today felt eventful even though the most stressful thing was only dealing with these gossiping faes and the headache they give you. You were excited to dip yourself in a warm tub full of nice smelling body oil and stay in there until the water got cold. Even without anyone being there, a smile forms on your lips with an almost quiet giggle. 

—

“Kufufu, are you sure this is what you’ve decided on doing?” Unbeknownst to you, crimson-coloured eyes bore into your figure. It was dark, that much was true since it was way past the time for the sun to be out, but the moon could outline the silhouette of a man. The only thing that could be comparable to the moon’s light at that moment were the strikingly deep colour of his eyes that illuminated even more in the dark. He stares at you from another window on a higher floor just across yours, breaking out in a smile and a light chuckle. The only thing keeping you two apart other than those walls and windows was the courtyard built in between. “She’s quite cute. I’d hate to leave such a pretty thing alone for so long without her husband.” 

Those same focused eyes break away from your form after speaking to a much taller man beside him that had piercing green eyes that outshined the moon— much like the prior’s. He says nothing to the short male but continues to stare at you. “Hmm, now that I think about it, she’s around Silver’s age, yes?” The shorter one continued on talking, putting a finger on his chin. “Don’t you think they’d be good friends?” 

The one who he was talking to seems to be ignoring him and poor he who has come to a conclusion that his companion is off in his thoughts to be paying attention to him. He sighs. “It’s been almost a week since she’s last seen and talked to you,” he points out carefully, doing a gesture as if he was shrugging but his arms stayed hovering in the air for a bit before dropping it completely to his side, “I know humans have a short lifespan, unlike our kind, but I do not believe that you’ll be able to go all her life not speaking to her just as you had planned. It would do no good to the plan of strengthening our relations with the humans.”

“She’s afraid of me.” At last, his tall companion speaks. “The first meeting.. And the day of the wedding.. When she looked at me, I saw fear in her eyes.”

Again, the short man sighs. “That is to be expected, Malleus. She is, after all, a human. You know how they are– they fear things that are unknown to them but if you’d just try, I’m sure she’ll warm up to you in no time–”

“But what if she doesn’t?” The prince finally tears his eyes away from you. “Lilia, are you certain that she’ll be fine having me as her husband?” He narrows his eyes, a bit of uncertainty was read in them. 

The male could only smile at him. “Do you trust me?” was all he asked, though cryptically. However, that was enough for Malleus to return his gaze, watching you disappear to your shared bedroom. Something swells in his heart, yet he does not know what. 

Once the door closes with a soft thud, he stands there for a while, silently watching at the door where you had just disappeared. He was often silent and staring off into the distance, but that didn’t mean his head was merely filled with air. Just a moment earlier, his heart smiled a bit when he saw the small smile on your lips, happy to think that you might be finding life at the Valley not too hard. 

Only when coming to a silent agreement made in his head, does he now turn his back away from the window. His robe flutters behind him, the sound of it heavy and rich, perfectly displaying his wealth. He walks deeper into the shadows– the unlit parts of the castle that the moon could not reach– and then promptly disappears with only the clacking of his heels making presence. 

Lilia stands by the window, watching as the young prince vanishes from his sight. He looks back at the hall you walked and the door you closed. A smile crosses his lips once more. His eyes became soft at a thought that will not be shared with anyone and for him to simply dwell on it. 

Now alone, he takes a deep breath in and breathing out of his mouth, his heart feeling lighter. He closes his eyes. “Oh my, it seems that age is catching up with me, kufufu,” he softly mutters, still smiling. He takes a bit of time for himself on this serene night before opening his eyes again. The small, yet meaningful smile warps to that of a big one with his eyes lighting up. Suddenly, the visage of a parent disappears from him entirely. 

He turns smoothly on his heels, heading to the same direction where Malleus had gone off too. “Ah, where is Silver? That boy, I hope he hasn’t fallen asleep somewhere unsafe..” With a merry smile, he leaves his spot from the window. 

⊰♤⊱⊰◇⊱⊰♡⊱⊰☆⊱⊰♧⊱⊰♤⊱⊰◇⊱⊰♡⊱⊰☆⊱⊰♧⊱

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Those who are highlighted green, please check if I spelt your name right and/or your settings since I can't tag you. Thank you.

✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ┄•͙✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙

#twisted wonderland x reader angst #twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #twst malleus x reader #yandere malleus x reader #yandere malleus draconia #malleus draconia #malleus draconia imagine #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia x reader smut #yandere malleus #malleus x reader #malleus x reader angst

[aryxchse]

I just read your Percy Jackson x daughter of Persephone fic and I really would like to read one for daughter of Hekate.

I mean you still have me questioning my Cabin but for the sake of all those years that I was daughter of Hekate, I would love to read Percy Jackson x daughter of Hekate from you.

casted a spell on me / percy jackson x daughter of hecate! reader.

a / n : my wife y'all 👆🏻

warnings : cursing

- percy wanted to gift hazel a special crystal for her birthday

- but he never really understood the girl, nor the crystal things

- so which cabin everyone visits when stuff like this happens?

- the hecate cabin.

- you were the only one left in cabin when percy barged in

- while you were cleansing (?) your room

- "hello?"

- "i am so sorry- should i leave? am i intrupting something?"

- you shrugged him off with a laugh, saying that it's not important enough for him to leave

- and he happily stayed

- "you.. know hazel right?"

- "duh, she's my ride or die."

- and everything began like this

- there was 2 weeks until hazel's birthday and percy decided to use that time wisely

- and he was kinda glad that he started working early

- because, he get to spend time with you

- man he's already whipped, look at you doing magical stuff and casting a spell on the boy

- the last part was percy's own delusion but yeah, you could turn him into a pig and he would be thankful

- "you could gift her tarot cards as a bonus, she's interested in those."

- "...show me."

- this boy knows NOTHING

- and when you read his cards he was gasping like a little girl

- hes so amazed by you omg

- you could make up something for the uno cards and he would scream 'this girl fucking rocks!!'

- did i said hes whipped? do i have to??

- anyways back on hazel's birthday gift mission

- since you ran out from hazel's favorite crystals, somehow, you both got the chance to shop outside in the mortal world!!!!

- it was a perfect first date in percy's head

- he's asking you personal questions like which crystal is best for your aura or smth

- sneaky bastard

- you guys shopped together until night and lost your dessert for the week

- but who cares? it was the best date

- people saw percy leave with a different crystal each time after visiting your cabin

- you got this boy wear crystals for lucky charm

- he joked that he only needed you for luck but anyways-

- the mission was complete eventually

- but percy didn't left your side even after hazel's birthday

- you guys are ment to be together now okay?? it says that on your birth chart

- your zodiacs are matching too

- shut up you made him a manifest queen

- he lets you draw symbols on his arms for some reasons you came up with

- hes scared you're really making him obsessed with you, because of the amount of times you're in his head, is embarresing

- and he needed to make you his

- like immediatly

- or else he'll go crazy from his love

- maybe you did cast a spell-

- "i think i learned how to read your cards."

- when he said that in one of his regular visits, you couldn't help but get curious

- did he actually learned that fast?

- so you gave him your cards and picked a few, he started looking at them like he knew something

- it said that something will happen good this week

- but instead, percy said

- "you're in love with a raven haired boy aren't you?"

- you tried so hard not to laugh

- and it was true, so you let him play his game

- "oh my gods! how did you know?"

- he literally smirked

- "i'm a natural pretty."

- he started to look more, and told you to pick two more cards

- you could already see what it meant, but you were curious what he will say

- "hmm, this guy has gorgeous sea green eyes, man you have taste!"

- a snort left your lips but you quickly gathered yourself

- "can you see any initials??"

- "oh totally! the lovers card is upside down so it means p and j."

- you were turning red from holding your laugh at this point, and he started to get a feeling that you figured what he was doing

- no shit sherlock

- "how weird, doesn't that ring any bells to you too? or is it just me?"

- "maybe it's that hot dude called percy jackson?"

- "OHHHH yes!! i knew i remembered that initials from somewhere!!"

- you both burst into laughters

- "my dear student, i see you payed attention to my classes!"

- he laughed at your tease until he finally managed to answer

- "being in love with you helped."

- smooth, jackson. smooth.

#I HOPE U LIKE ITTTTT #because i somehow did?? idk #perseus jackson x you #percy x you #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the heroes of olympus #percy jackson series #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson headcanon #pjo show

[kneelingshadowsalome]

your toxic könig is so perfect and the more recent posts made me think about a similar kind of au but with gromsko. like god i need this man to """force""" me into being his perfect little wife i swear.

AND IM SO SORRY but being slavic also makes this even more feral for me because i imagine the second his gf shows a bit too much independence/DARES to talk over him (yeah it's an achievement to be able to talk over him, the mf is LOUD)/etc he just. goes feral like he sees it as a challenge and he needs to show her what a slavic woman is actually supposed to be like.

but slavic or not he'll keep holding the fact that he "tamed" you over your head even when he's fucking you. talks about how this is your place, this is where you belong and how he's going to make sure you remember by breeding you full.

Omg Gromsko OMG

I'm so normal about him yes yes it's just your ask that made me this way ^^ I'm blaming you my dear anon 💕

CW: Protective & possessive behavior, implied sexism

So, Gromsko. Your car broke down in the middle of the road and this absolute bear of a Pole pulls over to help you. He has a charming smile, sure, but he's also obnoxiously bold. That casual masculine bravado makes you feel weaker than it should; there's this aura of shameless pride about him, and you can't quite decide if it's annoying or sexy.

You try to tell him you can handle it, that the repair guy is already on his way. But Gromsko? Hah. He just bypasses that shit. Pops up the hood and gets to work. The car is fixed in no time, and the next thing you know is that you just said yes when "Sobieslaw Kościuszko, pleasure to meet you, miss," asked if he could take you out to dinner this evening.

And it's true that he's loud. Like, why does he have to talk by half shouting...? (Probably because he has to make it known that he's the strongest, most virile male in the area.)

Sobieslaw always sits with a wide spread, with a broad, tall chest, with a confidence that seems to come naturally to him. He never tries to make himself smaller, no matter how crammed a space is. Everyone except the elderly has to move aside when he walks because he's not going to dodge or sidestep. You're not the only one who fears he will eventually break one of those dainty little chairs in the fine dining place he brought you to; the waiter side eyes this man like he's some beast that somehow got in and should be caged, not fed.

Despite all that brass, Gromsko is a proper gentleman. Always opens the doors for you, always pays at a restaurant. And always grabs your waist and draws you closer if there are other men around. Guy looks like he's ready to get into a fist fight for you if it comes to that.

It's kind of hair-raising how he laughs at the very concept of independent woman. His woman should never have to be "independent." It would be an insult to him as a man if his wife had to go to work.

He tells you how beautiful you are with intensity and passion that seems to come from another age. That boundless adoration makes you feel drunk, and Gromsko doesn't seem to notice anyone else but you – it's like all other women have disappeared from this planet.

He lays siege to you like crusaders of old laid siege to a city. You never have to fear whether you're coming off as too interested or eager or that you'll "scare" him away: this man is always more interested and eager than you. Still, you fear that everything will come to an end once you give this man what he wants – namely, sex.

You couldn't be more wrong! He's not fucking around, and he's not dating for the sake of getting laid. He's looking for a wife and a mother for his kids.

An infuriatingly sexy, uneven smile spreads across his face everytime you meet. He's checking you out, and he's utterly shameless about it. You're being rated like cattle, and it should not send butterflies to your stomach when you notice he seems to more than just approve of your hips and breasts. Little do you know Sobieslaw Kościuszko has already decided you're to be his wife.

When you finally spread your legs for this man, you expect him to fuck you with the urgency and attentiveness of a 20-year old hockey player. But Gromsko is actually a skilled lover! You don't know why and you don't know how, but he seems to decode you and all your weaknesses in record time. Hot kisses and intense love making are his bravura. Gromsko is so attuned to you and your pussy that it should be illegal.

It's like the gods made this man to breed women and spread his seed because he has the biggest balls you've ever seen. He doesn't grow all too soft after climaxing, and continues to fuck you even after you both just came. With sloppy patience, sure, because you're practically begging for mercy under him… but the point is that he just won't stop. He continues to pump you with strong hips and infinite stamina, and groans how perfect you are as you approach your second orgasm.

He places so much trust on his cock that, perhaps surprisingly, you're the first woman he has ever put his mouth on. It's the only thing that makes that eternal shield of pride tilt aside a bit, because he hates it when he doesn't know what he's doing… but neither is he a man who backs down when faced with a challenge!

He doesn't know what he's doing, which means he takes a mental note of every single thing that makes you shiver and sigh. This Polish bear learns to please you and just you, examines how you respond to slow licks and fast laps, sucks on your nub until you cry, and when he sees how much you enjoy his treatment, this man goes crazy.

"You like that, kochanie?" He pants between your legs, drunk on your pussy, swearing in Polish and giving lewd comments about how wet you are. He only ups the pace with his tongue when you cum. You're an overstimulated mess, but he's not done. He crawls on top of you and gets down to business with his thick cock, those heavy balls start to slap against your soaked flesh until you feel like you have no brains left.

"It's easier to just stop fighting, kotku," he seems to approve of your wet, moaning state more than anything. But it's the wickedly pleased gruff of "Let's get married, Słoneczko," that sends you spiraling into another overstimulated, glorious orgasm.

You don't even know that he's already told his whole family about you. You don't yet know that his grandmother already loves you. But it starts to dawn on you that you got more than you bargained for when Gromsko informs you that he'll take you to Poland but only as his wife.

Perhaps that's where this man's charm lies! Gromsko simply knows what he wants: a good loyal wife and a nice, large family. If you can give them to him, he's not wasting any time getting you pregnant. You're knocked up before you even know it, there's a ring on your finger before you get to say Na Zdrowie. You're his little wife now, and there's nothing you can do about it ❤️

#answered #gromsko x reader #gromsko #sobieslaw kosciuszko #gromsko cod

[madaboutmunson]

Are You Experienced?

Rating: Mature Words: 26K Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Warnings & Tags:

AO3 Link Team 117 for @steddiebang 2023 Author: @madaboutmunson Artist: @danadaria Beta: @house-of-chant Cheerleader : @atmilliways (unofficial but I am super grateful for your help so didn't want to miss you out!) Summary:

Everyone knows Steve Harrington, a local rich kid jock, the previous king of Hawkins High School. He's got it all, money, a respectable family, and chicks love him. He's even spending the summer learning what it's like to be a real working man before taking on a role in his Dad's firm because its builds character and empathy. Or is he something else entirely?

Is Steve a down-on-his-luck guy, stuck in a job he dislikes because his dad is teaching him a lesson, repeatedly striking out with the ladies, that his co-worker is fond of reminding him about?

Under all the many layers and masks, he uses to survive the day-to-day, Steve has secrets. The main one is how passionately he loves music. How it moves him in ways nothing else does, and he's sure no one else could possibly feel the same, until his Mom gives him $50 to spend at the new record store. Notes: I sincerely hope you enjoy this story and the artwork for this fic. I really loved writing it, and I really loved the Steddie community I became part of because of this event. It has changed me forever. You're all so awesome. Huge thanks to my artist who not only claimed my fic but also really understood our Steve's perspective in this. I can't believe how lucky I am to have @danadaria as part of my team! Also huge thanks to @house-of-chant for beta-ing my fic you rule! Thank you so much And also big shout out to @atmilliways who when I was getting nervous about my fic (it had been so long since I edited it (I completed my before claims lol)) gave it another read for me and restored my confidence in it! Thank you **********************************************************************

********************************************************************** It's the beat that got him first, or so his mom is fond of reminding him as she teased him a little over the foam on her cappuccino. A fond nostalgic expression washes over her usual business-like aura that mostly filled these private but public meet-ups.

Away from his Dad, essentially. Away from his judgemental outlook, away from his snide comments and homophobic jabs. Here, his mother was more his mom; they'd been doing this since Steve had been forced to find a job, and honestly, it's been the best thing to come out of this shitty situation so far. 

When he was a kid, they used to spend her days off together without him until he fucked that up for Steve too. The cheating. His wandering eyes, hands and dick meant his mom would leave and take him for everything he had, including Steve, but somehow he slimed his way back, citing addictions. He could change if his wife stood by him through his "sickness". The irony of reminding his mom of her wedding vows to make her stay after she'd found out about only the first of a long list of women he'd been banging was not lost on Steve. So now she had to follow his Dad everywhere, like his goddamn nanny. It was beneath her, she didn't have to do this, but she did. She'd be damned if she looked like she didn't try. 

Steve often wonders if that is because even though he hurt her irreparably, repeatedly, that some small tiny part of her still loved that pathetic excuse for a husband. They both would be happier if they'd just left him, though they never say it out loud, only in silent shared glances over dinner or when he pisses one of them off, and they just have to take it. Because now he's built himself a better legal team, and she knows they're stuck. But Saturday was golf day, and that was no place for a wife, apparently. Steve loathed him.

His Mom always offers to buy him lunch. Steve always declines. Says he's already eaten. He hasn't. He just wants to prove he can do this. He can work. He can survive. Then maybe his Dad would lighten up, stop busting his balls about college, give him a shitty job at his place, and then Steve would be set for life. Come to heel, fitting the mold, nine to five grind and staying on the right side of his trust fund and future inheritance.

Despite his eagerness for an easy life, Steve is the kind of guy that loves a challenge. He loves to prove people wrong about him, but carefully, quietly, because if he fails as he has numerous times, at least the only person who knows he was trying so hard is himself. But he'd be lying out of his ass, if he didn't admit at least to himself that it would be much nicer to live the privileged, pampered life rather than getting his confidence shattered multiple times a day, dressed as a fucking sailor pin-up.

"You were so funny, Stevie. Crawling the wrong way. Not being able to work out how to turn yourself around. Constantly bumping into things. Until, of course, you found your muse," She chuckles, and it warms Steve's heart because this is also something that only happens at these meetings. She genuinely laughs, and her smile reaches her eyes, making them twinkle like a starry, starry night. Not like the laugh at home, not the carefully curated laugh, the one that's calculated to not be too loud or too long, lest it irritates his Dad somehow. Steve had one, too for him. "Such a little dancer," his mom adds, nostalgia swimming in her eyes of happier times.

That was true. His Mom, Dad and Nanny all said the same about him. His Mom and Nanny with joy, his Dad with disgust. It was also true that Steve had lost his footing literally and figuratively many times over his life so far, and some of those times, the only person able to pick him up and dust him off was himself. But he had a secret weapon. He had music.

Lots of people like music. Some love it.Steve believed there was part of him that was almost a direct connection to it. Like he had music in him. Like the right song at the right time could plug into him and change him forever. Like part of him was controlled by it. He wasn't just moved by it physically, but emotionally too. He could put on his headphones alone at night, press play, and be transported elsewhere. Places, feelings, past, present, future and in the skin of someone else. Until he is swept up in it like an inescapable hurricane. Until Steve Harrington didn't exist for those few minutes.

"Glad to know I amused you at one point," he jokes and gives her a charming smile. It's almost natural, but she takes it. Looks around quickly before stretching across the table and squeezing his hand, and he feels the familiar paper push inside as she takes her hand away back to her coffee cup.

"Have you been to the record store here yet?" She takes a sip of her drink and glances up at it, "Looks a lot more modern than the one in town."

Steve pulls his hands into his lap and unfurls his fingers to reveal a fifty-dollar bill. He rolls his eyes, "Come on, Mom. I don't need this," he whispers, "I'm fine. I'm still at home. I'm making my own money. It feels kinda good, you know?"

Her happy expression falls, "You look tired, my little star." Her eyes meet his over the rim of her coffee cup. He knows how tired he looks, he sees it in the mirror every morning, and it's not from work. He is struggling post-high school. Things aren't as easy anymore. "Why don't you try the new place out? It's not far from work, right?" He glances over at Sam Goody's from where they are seated and is tempted, but there are reasons he's been avoiding it. "You know you are never happier than when you get to add to your collection. Tell him you got a big tip or something if he bothers to ask you. Once I'm home, I'll put my rollers in before he gets back, and he'll think I had my hair done. So don't worry." Steve half smiles and guiltily casts his eyes to the table between them. This will be their last lunch for a while.

"Thanks. If everything goes ok, I'll check it out after my shift." And he will. Steve tries to stick to his word as best he can, at least endeavours to be better than his Dad at it anyway, which, honestly, takes little effort. He pushes the money into his jacket pocket as she gets up, and they part ways with a small fond wave.  A hug would be too much out in the open, as if being dressed as a sailor wasn't eye-catching enough.

Steve returns to Scoops Ahoy Ice Cream Parlor and tags in so the girl he always seems to be on shift with can take her break. Her name's Robin. She's a little younger than him: Nancy's age. She's bossy, annoying, a complete nerd; she talks too much, she's in band, she takes drama; and she thinks she's some kind of revolutionary because she found a feminist zine one time. He gets the same feeling around her as when he's with the little group of dickheads that he always ends up babysitting. Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Will, Max, El. He'd never let on, but it's kinda nice. They can rib one another all day, laugh, and mutually complain about work. It's like a weird comradery. 

But what Steve really likes about her isn't the things she gives away with her words. It's what he spots in her Walkman or what she hums when she's working in the back. Sure, Robin will tell you her favourites, Madonna, Bowie, Culture Club, and Cindy Lauper, but that, as with most people, is just the tip of the iceberg. She also likes Patti Smith, The Runaways and Marvin Gaye. Steve managed to sneak a peek at the names through the window of her Walkman. Sometimes, annoyingly, it will be an unlabelled mixtape, preventing Steve from unravelling the mystery of Robin further. 

Steve's Robin assessment: 

Non-traditional values

Likes people who go against the grain 

Hopeless Romantic

"You're back early. You've got another fifteen minutes?" She frowns at him and wrinkles her nose, making her freckles misshapen.

"Oh yeah," Steve plays dumb, follows up with a shrug, and heads into the back to hang up his jacket, wash his hands and pick up his scooper. When he re-emerges, she's still leaning on the counter, frowning at him like he was the weirdest thing she'd ever seen. He gives her a charming smile back, "You can go early if you want?" Her frown turns into disgust as she pushes past him into the back.

"What is with you?!" She mutters as she passes.

"Ah, what is with me, Robin, is that I love the thrill of consumerism! Gonna beat my personal best today. You'll see!" He calls after her with a smile.

"I know you only need one phone number to do that, Steve, but I still think that's one too many out of your reach." She says in a sing-song tone with a laugh, and Steve rolls his eyes in annoyance.

"I'm talking about ice cream sales, birdbrain." He sasses back.

"Ohh, sticking to what we're good at, finally. I'm proud of you, Steve." She says, teasing him, as she walks back out, headphones on, giving him a salute goodbye.

There is a small influx of customers over the next hour, but nothing Steve can't handle, and by the time Robin returns, there isn't much to do except start shutting down.

"Well?" Robin inquires with a smirk.

"Almost," Steve replies with a smile, "but also…" he pulls a slip of paper from his hat with a number on. Robin grabs at it, and Steve pulls it out of her reach. "Ah-ah! Change the tally. I have a number." Steve points at the little whiteboard.

"Ok, fine!" She says with an adorable huff, picking up the marker pen, but as soon as Steve has relaxed, she snatches the slip of paper and reads over it, clasping her hand over her mouth, with a laugh, "Oh, Steve. Were they wearing a uniform or - or maybe carrying a net?"

"A what? No!" He says, frowning in annoyance, "This cute blonde chick with a perm. Linzie! That's it!" Steve says, clicking his fingers and pointing at the whiteboard impatiently.

Robin walks over to the board and puts a mark under the You Suck column. 

"Hey!" Steve protests.

"This is the number for animal control," Robin says smugly, holding the paper between her fingers and handing it back to Steve, who snatches it and races for the phone, punching in the number whilst keeping a locked defiant stare with Robin.

The phone rings a few times. It feels like forever.

"Hawkins Animal Control. No bug too small, no bear too big." Steve rolls his eyes and slams down the handset, tossing the paper in the trash and leans glumly on the counter. He really does feel like he sucks right now.

"Come on, champ. Your frosty mistress still loves you! In scoopfuls," she says, laughing as she pats him on the shoulder and thrusts an ice cream tub at him. As he looks up from his self-pity, quicksand. Her eyes are bright, sparkling with harmless mischief. Even though her teasing could be a little cutting, there was no malice. He can tell by the way she warmly smiles at him. A wordless check-in to see if she'd gone too far.

"For now. Until some grizzly pirate steals her away, no doubt." Steve rolls his eyes as he starts piling up more tubs to take out back to wash.

"Or you." She says with a laugh. Steve shakes his head and contorts his face like she just told him the moon was made of sponge cake and returns out front to collect a few more.

"No chance, not with these reflexes!" He says, spinning his scooper in his hand. She rolls her eyes, but her smile widens as she launches a sauce bottle at him that he effortlessly catches before impact, pumps his eyebrows at her and repeats, "Not with these reflexes." The forced sneer of disgust appears on her face again, making him hide a laugh behind a tower of tubs he's picked up.

He really liked Robin. She was easy to be around.

Closing time comes around, and they nod their goodbyes, at the storefront, after locking up. Like clockwork, her headphones are back on as she walks towards the bike racks. He already knows she's listening to Raspberry Beret.

Steve shoves his hands into his jacket pockets and feels the crinkle of the fifty from his mom against his fingertips, and his eyes move to the record store. They were probably gonna be open for an hour or so longer. He turns to the store's glass front, has a final check over his appearance and ensures his uniform is buried deep in the depths of his backpack before taking a deep breath and walking over there.

It's not like he hated this place or anything. It just felt like a betrayal to the town store that was slowly but surely crumbling into non-existence. The other factor was that all the people who worked here were school kids, apart from the manager. Cheap labour, he guesses, but it means he can never fully relax here. Can never fully let the music ring through his ears so it can guide him to his next pocket-sized plastic box of hidden treasure. Most of them were younger than him, though, so intimidating them was easy enough, though with the weather warming up, they were slowly catching on to how far King Steve had fallen, working just across the way. He tells them it's character-building, an experiment. He only told Robin that it was, in fact, a punishment.

He stands outside for a moment. This place is so bright and garish. Neon lights ran all over it like some fake plastic poison spreading between what he loved most. He can already hear something blaring out of there and voices chattering loudly, contending with it. He puts on his headphones, carefully placing the band so it doesn't crease up his hair, and pushes play on his Walkman. His ears fill with Nina Simone, and he takes a much easier deep breath as he walks inside.

I wish I knew how it would feel to be free.

As the voice smoothly fills his ears like it had just broken through the dam of the day and swirls its way around his brain into what feels like every crease, he finally feels that special feeling. The tingle from under his cheekbone to his temples, and he can finally settle into himself a little more. Swaps tension for ease as his fingers dance over the music sections, flipping cassette cases or the large vinyl album artwork as he moves around the store.

That is until he starts to hear the repetition of something unfortunate, and it pulls him out of his oasis of calm back into his old, reliable, tensed body and mask. His name.

"Harrington!" The voice rings out, and as if to make a show of how annoying this all is, he slowly takes off his headphones and forcibly pushes stop on his walkman.

"Yes?" He says through almost gritted teeth as he turns to the origin of the sound and finds himself met with a set of hopeful brown eyes, a mass of waves and curls, and an awkward smile. Eddie "The Freak" Munson.

Steve's Eddie assessment: 

Loud

Grating

Obnoxious

Non-conformist to the mainstream

Conformist to the Heavy Metal scene

"Good to see ya, man. How're things?" Eddie forces his smile wider, but it is strained.

Steve rolls his eyes with a sigh, "Let's get this over with, Munson. How can I help you?" His hands land on his hips, pushing back his jacket a little to emphasise the inconvenience, but Eddie seems unperturbed, curiously; his smile grows toothy and genuine.

"Well, that's quite an offer, but I was actually thinking about the other way around." Steve's eyes follow Eddie's ringed hand that comes into view and taps the name tag on his chest, "How can I help you, Harrington?" He drops his head to the side a little.

Steve forces out an unimpressed laugh of condescension, "I don't need any help. I'm good!" Eddie's customer service persona falters a little to worry.

"Come on, man.  All these other twerps here are terrified of me or the younger ones, who aren't, get led away by their folks." As he gestures around the store, sets of eyes that Steve didn't realise were on them dart away. Eddie's eyebrows push together, "You know I wouldn't ask if I wasn’t desperate, dude. We're in the same boat here, you know? Please?" 

Weirdly the endearing look on his face wins him over, but Steve will not advertise himself as an easy sell. He pushes back once more for good measure. "We are not in the same boat, not by a long shot!"

Eddie steps in closer, keeping his voice down, and mumbles out, "I know you're working over at Scoops, one of my band told me."

"Yeah, well, that's just an experiment. If I'm gonna manage people and run a company, I need to know what the average worker feels like. So like I said, it's very different," he scoffs with a laugh.

Then something unexpected happens. Eddie shifts his body and his stance. Straightens his wiry frame to his full height, no longer slouching for the promise of Steve's pity, but eye to eye for a second before he's slightly above him, maybe an inch or so. He squints a little, carefully searches each of Steve's eyes, looks him over, and puffs out his chest. All too familiar with this display of sizing up an opponent, Steve mirrors him. Show no sign of weakness. 

"You know, Harrington. One of my first little tasks here was to take out the trash. I crushed up boxes and collected empty soda cans that my colleagues and customers enjoy leaving around the place, though the signs explicitly say not to. I even shredded the unsuccessful applications for the position I just filled." Eddie's lips are tighter. It's almost a threat. He's obviously seen Steve's resume in the pile. Probably laughed at it too. An ember of anger glows within Steve, but his outside remains cool. He'll wait and see what Eddie wants to do with his leverage. His stare bores intimidatingly down into Steve's eyes, "So, as far as I'm concerned, and anyone that brings it up to me is concerned, we can stay in very different boats, Steeeeve." He lengthens and forces his name through clenched teeth. "That is, as long as you help me out here."

They hold the shared stare for a few seconds. The surprise revelation must have made it to Steve's face because Eddie looks like he knows he's won. He shifts back into sales assistant mode, like shrugging a jacket back on, and his hands animate his words once more. "So, I can help you out in the store. I could even make sure that all my friends with the munchies know where to get the best ice cream in town if you need some help over there too? Some of them are a lot cuter than you'd expect. Whaddya say, buddy? Consider it a symbiotic relationship." His grin, reptilian.

Steve breathes like he knows he's going to regret this. Eddie Munson invading his precious music. "What do you feel you can help me with today?" His exasperation is palpable. Eddie claps his hands together with glee, and his accessories clink about as he, alternating leg, hops on the spot before his sly grin turns radiant, friendly almost. The rapid change is almost a little jarring but intriguing because with a switch that quick, one of these attitudes was pure showmanship, and to his credit, both were believable performances.

"Well, let's start with the basics. Are you looking for anything in particular today?" Eddie asks pleasantly. "Because whatever you're looking for, Goody got it" he laughs out the rehearsed store slogan. It seems like he is actually trying here, and Steve decides this doesn't need to be a totally painful experience. For himself, at least. He taps his chin thoughtfully.

"Hmmm, I guess I'm just looking for something new." Steve ponders, looking around, and he sees a glimmer in Eddie's eyes as they dart from Steve to a section further back in the store. 

"Oh, well, if you want the freshest sounds around, you've come to not only the right store but also the right man. Metal is taking off in a big way right now, splintering off into little tasty genre morsels even someone as…well… straight-laced as yourself might enjoy." He looks him over, his eyes zig-zagging for clues. "Maybe nothing too heavy. A smorgasbord of speeds and sentiment for you to sample. Maybe er…Mötley Crüe? You heard of 'em?" Eddie has linked his arm and is currently parading Steve towards the back of the store. "Now try to overlook the title of the album. It's much less scary than it sounds. I think you're probably a Queen fan, right? Maybe some Bowie, Cheap Trick, or other seventies glam stuff? Well, you'll hear in many Crue melodies and riff structures that they are as much influenced by that as they were by punk rock. So I think you might like it. Besides, they are known for their hair, just like you." Eddie lays his charm on thick, well, what he thinks is charming anyway. Strictly speaking, it is a little hit and miss in Steve's book; although he lets Eddie finish his spiel, which is honestly more impressive than he would like to admit, Steve already had the album Shout At The Devil stashed away at home, and he did like some of it, but it didn't move him. But something about Eddie reeling off some of his favourites like that feels strange. Maybe that's why Eddie got the job here. Perhaps he’s a quick study when it comes to musical taste.

He attempts to assess Eddie for himself. Everything about his outside screams of high-speed punk and metal. But things like Dio, Iron Maiden and Sabbath definitely lean towards fantasy, history and myth. Imaginative, maybe, but that felt too soft. So he labels him creative, at least. The way he could talk at length about topics, and he's good with words. Maybe that's why he likes songs where the lyrics are a real story, tales of dragons and kings. There are the obvious things too. The way he dresses, his haircut, and his rings, but also something else. Being around him feels like when a guitar gets plugged into an amplifier. Eddie is big energy, wild maybe, something animalistic in how he doesn't hold back his expressions. Definitely something predatory in how he loomed over him, but that could have just been for show.

For Steve, there are levels to this. There is music you can’t bear to hear, the music you are indifferent to, the music you enjoy, music that evokes emotion, and then the stuff that sends lightning through your nervous system. It moves you, even if you don't want to be. If he was going to help Eddie out, the least he could get for himself was a tidbit of insider information about the guy at the same time.

So Steve stops them dead in their tracks before they reach the Metal section of the store and lies, "You know, I don't think my girlfriends are gonna enjoy that too much, Eddie. Maybe, yeah, maybe something a little softer. You know what girls like, right?" He sees Eddie jolt to a stop, his head shrinking back into his shoulders with a wince, and he releases his arm.

He turns to Steve, tossing his hair over his shoulder in a vain act of cockiness, that this time Steve sees right through. He waits to see what transpires. "Of course I do! I just thought you were shopping for you. You didn't say otherwise, duh!" Eddie states defensively, struts back into the middle of the store, and stops directly in front of the top 100 chart singles, blinking a few times, pretending to be in thought, but Steve sees the swallow of nerves. "So, uh, what's she into? So I can, you know, make a related recommendation." 

Oh! This was an unexpected turn of events, and Steve can't resist tugging at the strand of Eddie's unravelling. "Oh, you know, typical girl stuff." Eddie nods at the hundreds of cassettes in front of him, his mouth a tight line, avoiding Steve's eyes. He had made an assumption about Eddie long ago, and as it turned out, he might actually be wrong. He’s a nerd, yes. Loud, sure, but he’s also a lead guitarist. They get girls, women even, throwing themselves at them, right? But Eddie seems very nervous about figuring out what girls like. He looks stumped. Steve doesn't know if that is due to inexperience with girls or chart music.

"Huh," Eddie coughs out, hand on his hip as he rounds on Steve, "Never thought you were a misogynist, Harrington."

"What?" Steve blinks in surprise.

"You think girls like a certain type of music. That's pretty sexist." The confident smile returns to his face as he feels he's found a way out of the awkward place Steve had happily placed him in. "Your genitalia or identity can't make you favour one beat over another, Harrington. Music is an even playing field. The industry itself, that's a different story." He sighs like he's some wise old sage and tuts at Steve.

This guy is slippery, but Steve could play this game, "Oh, of course. What I meant was music for romancing? Maybe a slow dance over a candle-lit dinner or a moonlight drive down to get acquainted near Lover’s Lake or Skull Rock. You know all about that, don't you, Eddie? You're a man of the world, right?" Steve leans into Eddie's space and grins happily at him. That's when Steve gets another win. Eddie blushes, not just a little either, a lot. Soft coral-pink patches hit just on and under his cheekbones. So much so that before Steve can comment on it, Eddie is kneeling on the floor, pretending to search through tapes, his hair draped down, hiding his face. If he was a betting man, he'd guess the inexperience was with girls. Now there was a new question. Was that a choice or not?

He stands up eventually and looks Steve directly in the eyes, and smirks, "Alright, then." He says quietly, "Wait here" Steve frowns a little in confusion but observes Eddie darting around the store until he returns with three cassettes. "Contemporary," he hands over a copy of Sade's Diamond Life, "smooth," he places a second cassette on top of Al Green's Let's Stay Together, and the last cassette on the pile, The Jimi Hendrix Experience's Are You Experienced? He shifts his weight to his other leg, looks down at the tapes and then back into Steve's eyes, speaking hushed and deliberately as if he were telling him a secret, "and some of the sexiest fucking guitar the sixties had to offer."

And in that one sentence, Steve is jolted, like someone just caught him off guard with a hand buzzer. The first two descriptions were statements, observations, but that last one…there was power to it. Not just his words but the delivery. Eddie meant that. An enthusiasm he immediately recognised matching his own when he thought about music or talked about it after a few beers, and he had to remember not to let his mask slip too far, but Eddie wasn't masking how this particular musical gem had impacted him. Steve quickly breaks eye contact and looks down at the tapes in his hand.

"You listened to all these?" Steve asks because Eddie had inadvertently prodded Steve's curiosity gremlin, which is clawing its way out of him. He needed to learn more now. Unknowingly Eddie had baited the water for Steve, he wanted to circle him until he got another tasty chunk, but he couldn't, not here and now.

Eddie brushes the question off, "I know my way around. Just trust me. And in the unlikely event I'm wrong, you can return them at my expense." Eddie waves his hand in front of them both toward the register. "Shall we?"

Steve nods, turning the tapes over in his hands. Maybe he could keep the conversation going differently. "What happened to your other business venture?" It's reasonably well known Eddie is the go-to guy for recreational substances for high schoolers, and Steve would guess that is relatively lucrative, so why on earth was he working here. Was he turning over a new leaf?

"Well, not that it's any of your business, Harrington, but I'm under advisement to press pause on that whilst some things get ironed out." He taps the registry keys with a smirk that indicates to Steve that perhaps it's the golf club and not the clothing crease-removing iron he's talking about. "If I'm not splashing around, other things can bob up to the surface, you know? Things that shouldn't be in Hawkins waters, at any rate." Eddie looks up at Steve and stretches his hand out toward him so he can give him the tapes.

He has occasionally wondered if the cops knew about Eddie, but as long as he kept things quiet and didn't venture into harder substance sales, they let it slide. An unspoken agreement of sorts.

"Found out about this place, and well, here we are," Eddie takes the money, bags the cassettes, and drops in the receipt and a flier. He smiles hugely at Steve. "I sincerely hope you have a great evening, and remember," he hands over his change and raises a finger in the air, "whatever you're looking for," and leans across the counter into Steve's space, "Goody got it!" He says with a bit of extra pout, and something about this outward confidence mixes with his potential inexperience and makes for a tantalizingly tempting cocktail of Steve's thoughts.

Steve pushes him back lightly, but Eddie laughs as he presses against Steve's hand before retreating. Shit. That probably looked weird. Nodding his thanks and goodbye, he leaves, and as he does, Eddie hops up onto the counter, calling after him loudly by cupping his hands around his mouth, "And if I'm right, which I know I am! Don't forget to tell your friends about the fantastic customer service you've received today!" Steve keeps his head down and walks out, awkwardly smiling at anyone who meets his eye. 

Safely on the outside of the store in a dwindling-to-empty mall, Steve stops holding his breath. His insides, especially his brain, feel like they aren't sitting correctly. Like they are just out of place. He unclenches his fists to cool down his palms, which were busily overheating, particularly the one he'd pushed Eddie back with. He tries to shake whatever this is off himself and decides to try out one of the tapes. He looks at the three. He contemplates trying them in the order Eddie supplied them, but he knows in his core what he really wants. He wants to know why that last one made Eddie's eyes sparkle like that, why he chose those words, and why recalling the music on that tape for a few seconds completely changed Eddie's demeanor. He outright used the word sexy, but it wasn't that. Instead, Eddie made Jimi Hendrix, one of the most famous artists to ever have existed, sound like something secret or forbidden.

He rounds to the glass storefront and forces himself to calmly unwrap and change the tape in his Walkman when all he really wants to do is greedily rip open the packaging, tossing the old tape into the never, and be plunged straight into whatever sorcery this album contained. He puts his headphones back on and pushes play. A few seconds of silence as he paces towards the parking lot. He doesn't know why, but he glances back into the shop. The doorway frames a kid, probably around Dustin's age, engaging Eddie in conversation, holding up two tapes like he's trying to decide, and Eddie is talking animatedly, pointing at each in turn. The kid listens attentively. Steve smiles to himself.

Steve's Eddie assessment: 

Loud

Grating

Obnoxious

Non-conformist to the mainstream

Conformist to the Heavy Metal scene

Likes talking about music

Might not be the awful person the town says he is.

Then, like he can sense someone observing him, Eddie looks up and smiles at Steve. Pointing to himself excitedly and then at the kid making her way to the registers and sends him a thumbs up. Steve sends a weak one back and continues his walk to the car. The guitar and beat of Purple Haze time his steps.

Steve adds to his Eddie assessment. 

Nice smile.

****************************

"Wow! Your eyes look more sunken than my shipwrecked spirit when I walked through this door," Robin exclaims, her lip curled in disgust, but he notes, with a hint of concern, when she turns up to start her shift. Steve leaning back against the counter under the hatch, starts to reply but is interrupted by a waiting yawn beating his words to the punch, "Say no more Nosferatu!" She adds, heading into the back to hang up her jacket, helmet and backpack.

Steve lets his eyes lose focus and dissociates a little from the blue and white surrounding him. It's been quiet all morning. He didn't even know why they opened in the morning, it seemed like a waste of utilities, but it usually meant that there was nothing to do except prep and clean for the first few hours on a weekday. Which was nice because it meant Steve had the place to himself and could drown out the sea shanties and chipper hornpipe melodies with whatever music he was immersing himself into at that moment in time. Today that had been the same thing he'd been listening to all night like it was his required sustenance.

He thinks a little about last night, on the car ride home, and whilst he cooked dinner for one, he sampled the Sadé album, this was dripping in that eighties sophistication of romance, and her voice might have been one of the most beautiful things Steve has ever heard. Then whilst taking care of some chores, he listened to the Al Green album, again an excellent recommendation by Eddie, it moved through the phases of love effortlessly, and the voice again was sensational. Not because the music is better, it wasn't even a genre Steve preferred, but simply because of how Eddie changed when he spoke about it. Steve saves Are you experienced? for the end of the night, when there is nothing more to do than sleep.

Taking advantage of having the place all to himself was different these days. Years ago, he'd maybe throw a party and have people stay over, but recently he hadn't had it in him. Instead, he prepares the area as usual. Turns out all the lights, makes sure everywhere is locked up, rushes to his room, gets a box of randomly assorted candles, sets a few out, and lights them. Last of all, he dons the huge over-ear headphones he's plugged into his parent's hi-fi system as he lays back on the plush rug beside it and pushes play. The beat like his heart gently pounds as Steve Harrington unwittingly falls into Eddie Munson for the first time that evening.

Steve startles at the abruptness of the hatch opening behind him, "Look, I can't not ask. My conscience is wearing me down, even though, just so this is abundantly clear, I do not care to know about your private life, generally speaking," Robin says rapidly, like she's chucking her words at him, before sighing, "Is everything ok with you?" Her voice is more gentle, verging on caring.

"Yeah, everything's fine. Just couldn't sleep, that's all. Probably the change in weather," he answers.

"Oh well, I've cracked the case. That totally seems like the truth," she sarcastically says, shutting the hatch again, finally stepping out front, and standing directly in front of Steve, "I'm not gonna drag it out of you, but equally, I do not wanna work with the shadow of a person all day. So at the very least, if you don't wanna say what's eating you, go get a coffee and come back half-human before I get dragged down into the doldrums with you. It's contagious, you know, just like yawning!" She says and promptly has to cover her mouth to hold back a yawn, which also makes Steve yawn, "Ok, enough! Get out!" She says and points towards the store entrance. Steve obliges, pushing himself off the counter, slowly sloping off to the back to grab his jacket and leaving Robin with their obligatory salute as he heads over to the nearest caffeine purveyor.

As he walks, one side of his jacket weighs heavier than the other. The pocket that usually holds his on-demand solace, but today it contains a key that unlocked the door to impulse. When choosing his music for the day this morning, he reached for a mixtape that he'd made of some of his favorite chart hits, but as he opened the Walkman and saw the tape he'd been listening to all night, The one that he couldn't stop listening to, The one that snapped something free inside him, moments after he thought that maybe he and Eddie might have some common ground, He couldn't bring himself to switch them. He feels the temptation as his fingertips glance over the thin, metal band of the headphones to feel one of those moments all over again. He bites his lip, thinking about recalling one of those less-than-pure thoughts in the full view of all these people. They would have no idea. He looks around quickly like he is about to indulge in class-A contraband while waiting in line. 

No one else knew about last night. How his brain had been scrambled irreversibly. How the goosebumps had sprung up in a sprint up his arms, face and thighs. His imagination had not just run away with him but kidnapped him and held him hostage for hours. An entire psychedelic montage of his own creation. Traveling through kaleidoscopes of color, space, time, scenarios until something unexpected showed up, and as hard as Steve tried to bat it away, it continually returned, splicing his mental music video with clips of someone who had no business being in his brain when he felt open and raw that way. But alone in the darkness, safely in the arms of music, Steve let the thoughts develop, curious to know what would happen if he let go, let it happen, where exactly would they take him. But now, in the harsh light of day, that shame is still branded on his very bones. The heat rises to his cheeks, and though impossible, he's sure that if he doesn't do something about it, people around him will be able to tell. Be able to tell he'd been thinking about someone that way, all alone in the dark.

Steve quickly shoves his hand in his other jacket pocket away from temptation, and his fingertips play with something safe, boring and familiar. Money. Cold hard cash. The easiest mask Steve has in his toolkit. The furthest thing from music he could reach for. Icy, unfeeling, devoid of soul.

He reaches the counter, and the barista smiles broadly at him. "Good morning, Steve. What can I get ya today?" He's taken aback, sure he's never formally introduced himself to this girl before, but he's glad of the smile. A little harmless, friendly flirting couldn't hurt. It might even take his mind off other things.

"Whatever you've got to keep my eyes open." He tilts his head softly, glancing down at the counter and back up to the girl. "Something sweet though, I could do with a little sugar too." 

Her eyebrows flash, and she shifts her weight to lean a little on the counter towards him. "I think I know just the thing," she says with a subtle lick of her bottom lip, "I'll be right back, don't go anywhere sailor." Steve happily shakes his head in a no, and wishes Robin was here to see his success.

"Gina, huh? Thought your type was a lot more chaste, Steve," a gravelly voice to his left sends a slight shiver down his spine, and he wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole right now, but instead, he turns to return a polite greeting.

"Good morning to you too, Eddie." He smiles and nods as standard, but his eyes, the traitorous things, linger a little too long, scanning the eyes of the man that had been the cause of him having to buy this coffee in the first place. Eddie looks him up and down in concern, but his expression changes to something mischievous, and he grins at the floor.

"My recommendations worked out for you and your girl, did they?" He nods in Gina's direction while finally looking at Steve again. 

"Something like that." He replies, leaning heavily on the tattered edges of the truth, but quickly adds in a whisper, "It wasn't Gina, though." 

Eddie's eyes widen, and he chokes a laugh out, and to Steve's pleasant surprise, it's almost a little dorky. That’s endearing. Damn it, he's smiling at him more now. Eddie bites his lip, still grinning, before pressing himself up against Steve's side with an elbow to the ribs, whispering in his ear, "Steve Harrington, you absolute hound!" Eddie laughs again, his usual deep chuckle. Gina snaps a glare at him from the coffee machine. Steve dies a little inside. "Double espresso for me, Genie baby," Eddie charmingly beams back at her whilst Steve does everything he can to keep himself together and not explode into a confetti cannon of embarrassment.

"Eddie! Get in line, like everyone else. How many times do I have to tell you?" She snips.

"Gina! My angel of energy! My friend here was just holding my place in line. Isn't that right, Steve?" Eddie turns to him and smiles, relaxed, his eyelids hooding his deep brown irises that Steve elects to quickly look away from.

"Yeah, that's right." He swallows, and keeps his eyes on Gina now.

"See!" Eddie says, raising his ringed hand to Steve's eyeline to gesture at him. Gina looks between the two of them, but her eyes eventually land on Steve, and her smile returns.

"Well, I have no idea why he's friends with the likes of you, Munson." She puts the two double espressos to go down on the counter, slamming the one nearest Eddie down much harder than the other, which she gently slides over to Steve leaning towards him, "but whatever Steve says…goes," she says, her eyes trailing over him slowly.

"Jesus Christ, Gina! You never heard of the thrill of the chase?" Eddie barks out a laugh, putting his money down on the counter.

"Who says I wanna do any running away?" She smirks, not taking her eyes off Steve.

"That's true. I mean, even walking a few steps ahead of your pursuer would break the habit of a lifetime, and we wouldn't want that now, would we?" Eddie teases as she glances down at the money on the counter.

"You're short, Eddie," she finally turns and bites back, making Eddie shrink a little. "Ten cents." The fun wipes from Eddie’s face as he frantically searches his pockets. Tiny coral-pink triangles start to bloom in the hollows of his cheeks.

"I got it, don't worry about it," Steve interjects quickly to try and get back to the safety of Scoops as soon as possible. He takes Gina's hand gently and puts the money in her upturned palm, grasping her attention again. She puts the money in the register and scribbles on her pad, ripping off a piece of paper.

"A gentleman too?" She says with an approving nod and fans herself, making Eddie roll his eyes. Then, she pushes the piece of paper into Steve's hand. "Pick me up at eight. Wear something nice," she says with a wink before waving around the customer behind them.

Steve gives them both a smile and a wave goodbye as he heads back to the ice cream parlor quickly, sipping his coffee as he goes, though honestly, he doesn't need it anymore. He is wide awake after all of that. Even though he's come out of it relatively unscathed. Eddie is none the wiser, and he's got a date.

Back in the safety of Scoops Ahoy, Steve spies Robin slouching over the counter, waiting on a queue of zero people. He does his best Travolta strut over.

"Wow, you sure that's just coffee in there?" Robin laughs. "It's like you've returned a new man." 

Steve forcefully leans over the counter at her with gusto with a massive smile on his face. "I not only have a number but a date tonight at eight!!" He looks very smug. 

Robin stretches her hand out towards him, and he hands her the slip of paper. Her eyes scan over it.

"Gina?" Robin says in surprise.

"How did you-" Steve starts to ask before he gets cut off again.

"So she did get fired from the department store! Now she has to serve sad sacks like you and Eddie Munson coffee, I see." Robin nods behind Steve. As he turns, Eddie, holding the small cup to his mouth, initially looking startled, is perfectly framed in one of the windows and gives a little wave back.

"I'll pay you back, dude! Promise!" Eddie shouts before breaking into a speed walk to the record store.

"You bought him a coffee?! Why would you do that?" Robin rolls her eyes like Steve has done the stupidest thing in the world.

"He was a couple of cents short. I don't even want it back, honestly." Steve protests as he takes back the paper from Robin, putting it in his jacket pocket.

"You clearly don't understand what you've done," Robin shouts after him as he goes into the back to reclaim the stupid hat and hang up his stuff.

"Then enlighten me! Please, I'm waiting with bated breath here," he sasses back, secretly smiling to himself, only for it to be wiped from his face quickly as the hatch opens abruptly.

"Ok, first of all, you don't understand the paying back thing because you've never been poor, Steve. So it's ten cents to you. It's shame on us, ok? Secondly, you've fed the neighborhood's stray cat by randomly buying Eddie that coffee! He'll keep coming round here now," Robin whines.

"Ok, first of all," he mimics her, "I didn't buy him anything. He put his own money down. I just gave the extra few cents. Why is it so bad if he comes around here, anyway? He doesn't seem so bad to me, Rob." Steve adjusts his hat in the mirror and shoots a finger gun at himself in acknowledgement that he hadn't been wearing the hat when he got Gina's number, so it must be the thing throwing off his game. He also realizes it's the first time he's shortened her name. He likes it.

"You want a satanic cult leader. In our ice cream shop, normally full of vulnerable kids?" Robin protests, and suddenly something dawns on Steve.

"And, since when do you care about our customers?" Steve asks, joining her out front, one hand on his hip and the other on the tiny coffee cup. He narrows his eyes at her, looking for tells. He finds none but calls her bluff. He feigns surprise and laughs, "Oh my god, is he your ex or something?! Is that why you don't want him hanging around here?"

Robin recoils violently. "Oh my god! No! He's not my type."

"Really?" Steve asks with genuine surprise. Eddie was a non-conformist. He was far from ugly. Both musicians, both took drama and liked accessories. But, maybe he was a bit too rough around the edges and loud for Robin, despite how feisty she could be herself.

"Yes! Really!" She protests again, but there is something else here. Robin doesn't make it a habit to judge anyone that isn't a real piece of work type asshole, and though Eddie could be overwhelming, in their short interaction yesterday, he'd seemed quite nice, and due to their mutual school activities, they must have crossed paths often, so she must have seen that side of him too. Unless, like Steve, Eddie had his own mask to survive high school, which made him generally unpleasant to most people, and only let a select few see his genuine parts.

Steve isn't sure that Robin is precisely lying, but she is definitely hiding something.

****************

Steve pulls up outside Gina's apartment complex at 19:50. He's early, but he absolutely does not want to be late. So he waits exactly where Gina had asked him, and parks up, then sits patiently on his freshly washed car hood. 

As he had no idea where they were going yet, he'd opted for something smart casual. The relaxed fit navy blue blazer and slacks combo, and an oh-so-soft pastel blue sweater underneath, perfect for cuddling into if that opportunity arose. Robin and Eddie obviously had made their opinions known on Gina, but he was way too much of a gentleman to make any such assumptions, and people can change.

At 20:08, Gina totters down the steps from the complex in the shortest, lowest cut, tightest, dark purple leather look dress Steve thinks he's seen outside of a music video. She looks incredible. Her body is banging, her makeup is flawless, her permed hair is tossed over in a voluminous side parting, and Steve cannot believe his goddamn luck. Holy shit. She’s a knockout.

He springs into date mode, jogs over to the other side of the street and offers her the crook of his elbow to escort her to the car, "Hey Gina, You look incredible!" Steve greets her beaming proudly.

She pops a chewing gum between her cherry-red lips and says, "You don't look so bad yourself, handsome." At that morsel of praise, Steve's heart soars. He's got it right tonight.

As she takes his arm, and they walk over to the car, he opens the door for her and takes her hand to help her into her seat before he gets in himself, "So, where to?" He asks with a huge smile.

"Ah, well, I thought we'd go to Patty's house party. It's not too far from here. Unless you wanna go somewhere else?" She asks.

"Are you kidding me?" Steve says with a gentle laugh and juts a thumb to himself. "I got the wheels. We can go wherever you want tonight." He turns and smiles reassuringly at her. "Anywhere at all."

She giggles, and Steve has to do everything he can not to rev the engine at his success so far. 

As Gina directs, they hit a reasonably long stretch of road, and it falls quiet in the car, "So… What kind of music do you like?" Steve tries, it was a comfort area, and it let him get a little insight at the same time.

"Oh, all the hits, as long as I can dance to it, you know?" Steve's eyes almost tear from the road to look at her fondly. She's a dancer just like him. He tries to not let his excitement get the better of him and pepper her with a million follow-up questions.

It falls quiet again.

"Is it, um, Patty's birthday or something?" He asks as she reapplies her lipstick again in the pull-down mirror.

"Nah, nothing like that. She's got the biggest free house. Plus, it's right around the corner from the liquor store. It's just here. Look. Take a right." She replies.

They make their way into the party. Steve grabs the bottle of wine from the back seat and quickly moves around to her door to open it and assist her before locking up and offering his arm again. It earns him another melodic giggle, "Such manners, Steve. Is this how you treat all your dates?" She asks playfully, and he knows she means no harm, but unfortunately, it's the first dent in Steve's confidence tonight. She already knew he’s on a losing streak regarding keeping a girlfriend. He tries to see the positive. At least she seemed to like him, and she didn't know he'd recently had trouble getting any dates. He supposes that could give him some kind of playboy status.

It has been a while since Steve had been to a house party like this. It’s rammed with people, primarily seniors but as with Gina, himself and Patty, a few recent graduates too. The girls squeal with delight, throwing their hands into the air as they greet one another, and Gina pulls him forward to be introduced, "Patty, this is Steve. Steve, this is Patty." Steve gives her a big smile and a nod.

"Looks like it's gonna be a killer party. Here, hope you don't mind," he says, passing Patty the wine bottle. She pulls an impressed face and looks over at Gina, raising her eyebrows. Patty's boyfriend gives him a nod.

The party is much more fun than Steve anticipates. Gina likes to dance. A lot. With a little more physical enthusiasm than Steve was used to, but my god, he is the envy of the room. She likes to show Steve off to her friends and kisses him so many times he loses count. She looked incredible at the start of the evening, but she might be the most beautiful creature to walk the planet with how adored she was makes Steve feel. Steve makes a mental note to introduce her to his Mom when she's back in town.

After a small succession of kisses on the swings in Patty's back garden, Gina excuses herself to use the bathroom, "I'll be right back, handsome. Wait here for me? Don't go running off with any other pretty girls, now." She sends him a dazzling smile and a wink, and the love-whipped puppy, previously known as Steve Harrington, nods obediently as she walks inside. Then flicks his eyes to the night sky with a happy sigh.

"Don't fancy the slide, instead, Harrington?" A voice grins from the darkness.

"Eddie? What are you doing here, man?" Steve says in happy surprise. He's still floating around on cloud nine. Eddie sits on the tree stump opposite Steve and lights up a cigarette. The awkward feelings around Eddie were almost all gone. Or at least buried. It was a one-off, just a mixture of unique circumstances. The shame was still in there somewhere, but Gina had eclipsed it all for tonight.

"Oh, you know, I was at the bar, and heard someone mention that one of my old friends was gonna show here, so I tagged along."  He offers the pack over to Steve, who declines and pops a chewing gum in his mouth. Eddie gives him a knowing smile, and Steve grins back and pushes himself on the swing a little, trying to channel some of that excitable energy somewhere."Going that well, huh?" He asks, raising his eyebrow as he pockets the carton.

Steve is desperately trying to remain cool, calm and collected about everything, but he's elated his losing streak is over, and what a woman to end it with. "Honestly, it's going a lot better than I thought it was going to."

"Yeah?" Eddie asks leadingly.

"Yeah," Steve says simply with a sigh, and that's when Eddie's expression changes, his mouth parts a little, but before he can say anything, someone calls out for him.

Patty rushes over, swaying a little, throws her arms around Eddie's neck, and hugs him. Eddie's face is a picture of panic, and Steve hides his laugh behind his hand.

"What you got on you then?" Patty slurs, looking up at Eddie and batting her eyelashes, and suddenly Eddie looks relieved and pulls out a few small bags of weed from inside his leather jacket. Steve observes him with confusion. Eddie said he was on pause dealing-wise.

"Thirty bucks for this little trio," Eddie offers with a toothy smile.

"Thirty!! Come on, Eddie, seriously. I can get twice as much for less," she complains and tugs at his denim vest.

He leans in and says quietly, "Yes, that is true, but I'm right here, and they're not right?" Then he pulls the same face he did at Steve in the record store. He knows he's won.

"Well," she steps closer to him again, and Steve sees Eddie visibly tense as Patty runs her hand up his chest, "Maybe we can come to a different arrangement, Eddie?"

Eddie clears his throat, and his eyes dart to Steve. "Oh hey, Steve, fancy meeting you here." His words are a desperate plea for help, and mischief swirls in Steve. Of course, he could just excuse himself and leave them to it, but something keeps him there, and as Patty turns, he sends her a little wave.

"Yeah, just out for some fresh air," Steve offers, and Eddie relaxes immediately as Patty creates some distance between them. She looks at Steve wide-eyed.

"Oh, hi again, Steve. Having a good night?" She asks nervously.

"It's a really great party, Patty. I'm having the best time," He answers genuinely.

She relaxes and smiles hugely at him. "It was really nice of you to come. Thanks for the wine and for helping Gina out tonight."

Steve smiles back, but he's a little confused. How was he helping Gina out? But before Steve can frame a question, Patty jumps ahead a few steps and answers.

"You're putting on a real show out there. It looks amazing. Though, if I may suggest, you are actually way too nice for her, so you might want to ease off on that a little." Patty enthusiastically reviews their date as Steve's eyebrows raise, and he blinks slowly.

"Hey Patty, how about twenty, huh?" Eddie puts a hand on her shoulder and tries to turn her towards himself, offering her the baggies again. She shrugs him off but fishes the money out of her pocket, her eyes still on Steve.

"Ohhh no," Patty says, overtly pouting her lips to indicate sadness, "widdle Stevie, didn't know." Steve stands up. His heart is pounding.

"Hey, that's enough!" Eddie says sharply to Patty.

"Oh, shut up, Eddie. Everyone knows she turns up to these things with someone and always leaves with Frankie. They're like Kismet or Kermit or whatever." She waves her hands drunkenly in the air. 

"Everyone?" Steve asks in a whisper, and his eyes move from Patty to Eddie, who is frowning deeply. Steve folds his arms, "No, you're wrong. You'll see," he says and takes off back into the party. He can hear Eddie faintly calling after him until he hits the wall of music and chatter of the house.

He looks around for Gina, moving swiftly between rooms, as the flurry of panic starts to set in deep in his chest. They can't be right. Then finally, he catches the sight of her perfectly coiffed hair and pins himself to the other side of the wall, so he can hear her talking without being spotted.

"Are you kidding me? He's not a patch on you, honey. Not nearly as manly as I like, you know? Just a good little boy. Not my big strong bad boy Frankie." He can hear the purr in her voice, and it's followed by a deep chuckle from someone else.

An invisible force punches Steve straight in the guts, forcing all the air from his lungs. The dents in the carapace of his confidence get a few new deep siblings as he dusts himself off and sets off to leave. He knows he should be mad. He should be angry. He should march in there and give them a piece of his mind, but he feels completely numb. What he does do, however, is stop by the kitchen, take back his wine and a random bottle of mad dog 20/20, and slump off to his car.

As he gets closer, he sees a silhouette of someone sitting on the hood of his car. The jingle of them getting off it abruptly and moving quickly towards him lets him know it's Eddie.

"Steve, man, I'm sorry. That fucking sucks. Are you ok?" Eddie tries to reach out and hold his shoulders, but Steve steps back out of reach. Sure, he's deflated, but he doesn't have the reason or the energy to be mad at Eddie.

"You've got nothing to apologize for. No one does. It's not anyone else's fault that I'm too dumb to know what, apparently, everyone else knows," he says a little glumly but finishes it with a half smile and shrug as he moves around him to get in his car, but Eddie, being the scrawny beanpole he is, slips in between Steve and the door.

"Hey, I get it. She got me too. Except, you know I wasn't as good about it as you are." Eddie is talking to him, but Steve is simply trying to unlock his door and ignores him."And you know I would have warned you explicitly if it wasn't you, you know?" That gets Steve's attention.

"What do you mean if it wasn't me?" He asks, turning to face Eddie, whose face is much closer to his than he'd realized, and it causes a mini jump in his pulse. Had Eddie wanted to see Steve made a fool of?

One corner of Eddie's mouth ticks up. "You're Steve Harrington. King of Hawkins. If Gina was gonna change her spots for anyone, I would have put money on it being you." Eddie says it sincerely, but it makes Steve feel worse.

"Ex-King of Hawkins," Steve says, shaking his head, trying to move around Eddie without pushing him away. He wants to leave, but he isn't mad at Eddie.

"And-and the way she was with you at the coffee place. I mean, I thought she was into you. Anyone would have thought that, man. Besides, she was probably totally into you, I mean, look at you, but this guy, this Frankie, they're, like, weirdly obsessed with one another, and then the next minute not speaking to one another," Eddie desperately explains, and Steve can tell he's trying hard to make him feel better about all this.

That's when Steve makes a new category of mistake. He looks up at Eddie's face. His sad eyes meet Eddie's big compassionate ones, glinting with yellow specks of the street light.

"It's weird, honestly," Eddie finishes gently, and Steve gives him an understanding smile back.

"Thanks, man. I get it. I'll be fine. It's just a big misunderstanding. I'll go home, get wasted, and pass out. Then, wake up, and start over. I've bounced back from worse," Steve assures and gives Eddie a playful thump on the shoulder. "You're alright, you know that?" Steve actually manages a small genuine smile as he allows himself to compliment Eddie.

"Do you want some company? I got treats!" Eddie says, holding up three little bags of weed at Steve.

"How many of those do you have on you?" Steve huffs out a little laugh, and Eddie's smile widens.

"Just these three," Eddie smirks, pocketing them again.

"No, you sold three to Patty," Steve corrects him. Eddie leans back against Steve's car door and makes a show of looking thoughtful for a moment before he clicks his fingers like he remembers something.

"Oh darn it. I must have accidentally given her my bags of oregano. Good job you're so astute, Harrington. Otherwise, dinner times next week would have been very interesting." Eddie smiles mischievously, and Steve erupts with a laugh.

"You didn't!" He says, scandalized.

"I wasn't going to until she poked fun at you. Totally uncalled for. Also might have relieved myself in an empty and dropped it in their vat of punch." Eddie shrugs like it's nothing and then blinks up at Steve. "Is that enough to gain entry to a much better afterparty?"

That thing that snapped free in Steve when he was lying on the rug, immersed in the music and thoughts inspired by Eddie, vibrates within him. 

He shouldn't.

He really shouldn't invite anyone back to his house when he feels like this, especially when his intention is to drink himself into forgetting all about Gina.

He absolutely shouldn't let down his guard to someone he's really only got to know the last few days.

He definitely shouldn't specifically welcome the man that resurrected the most secret, sinful parts of Steve into his home, where they would be alone together.

Steve can't decide, so he lets fate decide. "You got any more recommendations on you?"

"Shit, yeah! A fucking van full!" Eddie says enthusiastically.

And with that, Steve ignores every warning sign his brain throws up at him.

"Alright then. Follow me."

************

Eddie's van tails Steve's BMW along the inky black roads of Hawkins, intermittently interrupted by street lights when venturing through a more built-up area.

He turns up the radio a little to try to quieten the confused knot of feelings in his stomach. There was no question he was still feeling shockwaves from recently being absolutely crushed this evening, but now the excitement of something else tickles at the inside of his stomach. Him, Eddie and Music. Some of his private salacious thoughts rush through his mind again. 

Steve would be more alarmed by them if it weren't for a few things. 

Firstly this is not the first time Steve has had impure thoughts about a man. It just wasn't something he was gonna advertise in small-town Hawkins. Especially as he is one hundred per cent not just into guys. He'd sneakily read about it in the library and vowed as soon as he had the means it was definitely the big city for him, a place where other people like him could live much freer lives.

Secondly, he had heard things about Eddie, and he is sure it was because they labeled him a devil worshiper or monster that the town also whispered about him being into the more, what some of the stuck-up people of Hawkins might consider the debauched side of life. He'd heard that when people threw homophobic slurs at him, he played up to them. Flirted with his persecutors to scare people more, but honestly, he had just added that to the massive pile of slanderous gossip about Eddie. Prior to yesterday, he had always assumed that by being in a band, Eddie got his fair share of women. But now he wasn't so sure. Maybe tonight, he'd find out.

Thirdly the only person Steve knew of that had ever assumed him to be anything but straight was his father. So if that rumor started, Steve is confident he could squash it reasonably quickly.

Fourth, and this was probably the cruelest of his thoughts. If he did accidentally say too much or give something away to Eddie tonight, who on earth would believe known degenerate Eddie over golden boy Steve?

Steve had fooled around with just one guy before, Tommy, and always, always, always when they were wasted or high. Tommy said it didn't count, and honestly, Steve didn't mind. He liked Tommy, well, when he wasn't being a complete asshole, but it was more an avenue of mutual exploration than a relationship.

Tommy was handsome, but he was two-dimensional. All their shared interests were superficial. Maybe it was because they had been friends for so long that there wasn't anything to peel back and get his teeth into. He was enough to quicken his pulse, but that had been more to do with the thrill of doing something so forbidden than the man himself. Tommy didn't move Steve. 

But Eddie. 

Eddie might.

With no other cars on the driveway, he waves Eddie forward up to the house once Steve parks up.

He grabs the bottles from his car and sees Eddie emerge with his little lunch box and his arms laden with tapes. Steve unlocks the front door into the dark house and heads inside, Eddie close behind.

"Your folks in bed?" Eddie whispers.

"No, they're out of town. Work, you know?" Steve puts the wine back in the kitchen wine rack and holds up the glass liquor bottle contained within, "Wanna get straight to it, or would you prefer some beers first?" Steve asks with a happy host smile. Eddie is still marveling at the house, his round eyes searching the darkness. Steve wonders what for. 

"Just a beer, thank you," Eddie says slowly, entirely distracted by everything.

"The hi-fi is just through there in the den, or if you wanna smoke, we can sit by the pool?" Steve offers, seeing Eddie's arms still full of tapes.

"What time are your folks back?" Eddie calls back from further away now, as Steve hears the clatter of plastic cassette boxes and the jingle of Eddie's wallet chain as he returns. There must be something special in that, having your own noise, so people know it's you.

"I dunno, not until next week, though, I imagine," Steve says, offering Eddie one of the two beer cans.

Eddie's eyebrows knit. "Next week? Are you for real?"

"Yeah, once I got my license, they stopped getting a nanny in." Steve laughs.

"Was that a joke?" Eddie says, laughing too.

"I mean, I tried. Unfortunately, I'm no Steve Martin." Steve shrugs and smiles happily at Eddie as he stabs and shotguns his beer.

"Who are you, and what happened to sad Steve?" Eddie's eyes narrowly playfully. He wraps his arm around himself as he observes him and takes a sip of his own can.

"You want me to go get him? I'm sure he's around here somewhere…." Steve looks behind one of the drapes.

Eddie's head tilts with pure amusement, and that nice smile spreads across his face again as he observes Steve, "My god, funny too, huh?" There is something in the way his voice softly wraps around the words that sets a slight panic in Steve, almost reaching for the light switch to plunge them into the safety of bright light. Instead, his brain gives him a subject change.

"Shit, what about your friend at the party? Did you get a chance to speak to them?" Steve runs his hand through his hair, realizing he's probably ruined Eddie's night too.

He simply shrugs in reply, then changes the subject himself. "What's with all the candles in there? Did your power go out?" Eddie gestures back to the den. Steve closes his eyes, remembering he hadn't cleaned up in there yet, and then a real fear creeps over him, hoping that he hadn't left anything else incriminating in there. 

Steve half-lies quickly. "Oh, ambience!"

Eddie points back at him. "Yeah, of course, your girl from last night. Setting the scene for seduction," Eddie says, pretending to swoon.

"Well, more for relaxing than romance in particular, but sometimes one can lead to another," Steve says, and he does let that hang in the air for a while to see if there is any reaction from Eddie. Sadly nothing to help him assess him further. Maybe it was too subtle. "Do you maybe wanna head out for a smoke?" Steve asks, turning to get himself another beer.

"Now that is much more my brand of relaxing," Eddie laughs, grabbing his lunchbox.

Steve catches up to him and puts a hand on his shoulder to stop him. "Wait, how about you pick out a tape? I'll grab the boom box."

Eddie's eyes move to Steve's hand on his shoulder first, then to his face, with a blink, "Yeah." Steve shakes Eddie's shoulder and gives it a good old sports pat before removing it entirely. He watches Eddie's face for any signs, and he's pretty sure the smile he gives him before he walks towards the treasure trove of tapes is one of disappointed realization. Or maybe Steve had all his hopes resting on that being the case. Hope is such poisoned manna. Maybe physicality wasn't the way to get Eddie to reveal a little more. Maybe Steve could try something else to find the answers to his questions. Something Eddie loves to do. Talk about himself.

Steve sets up the player between two loungers and turns on the pool lights. Ambience, he thinks, though honestly, the waning moon is setting the scene enough for him. He doesn’t wanna make it too obvious. He kicks up his feet on the lounger, sips at his beer, and waits. After a few minutes, he starts to get a little concerned, but as soon as he sits up, Eddie arrives with an entire box of tapes and an excitable smile.

"I, uh, couldn't decide what you might like, so I just brought them all out and found a box in the kitchen; hope you don't mind. Just easier to move 'em around," Eddie excuses and thunks down onto the lounger next to Steve’s. "So take your pick," he says, gesturing at the box and pulling a pre-rolled joint out of his pocket, which he lights up quickly.

This isn't really what Steve wants. He wants Eddie to show him around what Eddie likes. He wants to hear him gush over riffs and lyrics. Tell him how it feels when he plays them, and show him how his dexterous fingers leave no part of the fretboard untouched. But Steve recognises Eddie's apprehension and decides to play the game at least. He reaches into the box with one hand, sorting through the tapes, and with the other, without taking his eyes from the music collection, makes a come hither motion at the joint, which, pleasingly, Eddie acknowledges without protest, and Steve soon finds it slotted between his fingers as he pretends to peruse the album artwork and track listings.

He can feel Eddie's eyes on him, and out of the corner of his eye, he observes Eddie's hands on his thigh and knee and sometimes, when Steve picks up or hovers over a particular tape, his fingers tense, possibly with excitement Steve guesses. He takes a long drag on the shared substance.

To Steve's surprise, the selection of tapes is more varied than he thought. Sure, there is a lot of what he guesses from the names, titles, or artwork are metal, rock, and punk, but there is a chart hits compilation, some new wave electronic stuff, country and classical. Steve hands back the joint and takes a sharp intake of breath as he sits up.

"You know, Eddie. I'm a little overwhelmed by all the choices here." 

"Ah, too many? Sorry. I just didn't know what you'd wanna listen to." Eddie nods apologetically, and something in the way he says it makes Steve wonder if too many or too much is his habit. Maybe he'd been hurt before by people telling him he was too much.

"Well, how about this? How about instead of this being about what I like," Steve looks up to him with a friendly smile, "you show me what you like. Maybe it'll be the same." He gives a little shrug and wonders if Eddie might pick up on any subtext.

"Doubt it," Eddie laughs with a quick glance up at Steve from the tapes.

"Oh, ye of little faith. I really liked the Hendrix one, best out of the three." Steve offers him a guiding thread to assist. He would continue about how he will probably play it to death, but as he looks over, Eddie's face reads excited already.

"Really?" He says, and the innocence of the question makes Steve feel like he's in middle school again. Making friends over sports or movies, but then suspicion rears its ugly little head, and Eddie folds his arms and leans forward. "Oh yeah? Tell me what you liked about it."

Steve doesn't want to give away too much of himself. "Foxey Lady is a fun track, and Fire." Eddie rolls his eyes a little and nods.

"You like Purple Haze too, I bet?" Eddie says a little condescendingly, and he's unsure if it's the beer and weed starting to mix on no food because he didn't know if he was going to dinner with Gina, but Steve feels a little insulted.

"Well, who the fuck doesn't like Purple Haze?" Steve fires back. "It's a great piece of music."

"Whoa-ho-ho, Harrington. Don't get your little panties in a twist. I was just guessing." Eddie chuckles, putting his hands up defensively, offering the olive branch of the joint back to Steve, who takes a pretty deep inhale from it and sends it right back, picking up his beer.

"No, you weren't. I mentioned some popular songs, and you immediately judged me, thinking that's all I listened to when that is not the case at all! Also, that's why they are popular, by the way, because they're great songs. So you could maybe get off your high horse about it." Steve complains and puts Eddie in his place. Or so he thinks.

Eddie's grin widens, and that sparkle in his eye returns, and now Steve can't work out if he's walked right into something or if Eddie is simply amused. His hand extends to him again, and Steve, though a little confused, accepts the smoke and takes another hit.

"I also really liked 'Manic Depression'," Steve adds much more gently, opening the door to his true feelings, a crack, "How it details in the words and melody his relationship with music, the emotion behind in 'The Wind Cries Mary', and that bluesy feel to 'Red House'. Those songs also easily transport you someplace else." Steve says, taking a glug from his can and, realizing it's empty, standing up to get another.

"Wait-wait-wait," Eddie says hurriedly, looking up at him. "Here, I picked this up on the way past too." He holds up the glass bottle that Steve selected from Patty's party. Steve takes it from him and sits back down, knocking back a swig and wincing at the taste and heat, but Eddie ignores it. He has other things to address. "What do you mean someplace else?" He leans forward over the tape box towards Steve, eyeing him like a scientist looks at their specimen.

"In your imagination, you know, the music takes you somewhere else." Steve shrugs, taking another swig as Eddie sips his beer.

"Where'd it take you?" Eddie asks, tilting his head, and though Steve's heart rate quickens at the thought of the truth, he sees an opportunity.

"You sure do ask a lot of questions. What if we trade? I'll answer yours, you answer mine? That seems fairer to me." Steve doesn't have to wait long for a reply, but he’s stalling to craft an answer that doesn't involve revealing more than he wants to.

"Yeah, sure," Eddie says, brushing it off. "So where did they take you, these songs?"

"Ah-ah-ah, Eddie. You gotta answer one first," Steve teases, and Eddie, denied an answer to his question, folds his arms. Steve adds to his assessment.

Adorable sulking face.

"Fine," Eddie pouts.

"So, the three tapes you gave me were great, exactly what I needed, and I thought, how does a guy get so knowledgeable about this kinda stuff, and then I remembered you were in a band, you play, er, bass, right? So I naturally assumed-" Steve lies. He wants to avoid coming across as knowing too much about Eddie.

"Lead guitar, actually. Sing a little too," Eddie interrupts proudly and waves Steve on to continue with his question.

"So I assumed that you must have girls throwing themselves at you? Right?" Steve asks with as innocent curiosity as he can muster. 

"More girls throw themselves at me for drugs than music, but that could change. The stuff I play is becoming more popular," Eddie replies, and Steve tries to see what he can get out of a few quickfire questions.

"Oh, so you're inundated with women then?" Steve asks with a raise of his eyebrow.

"No," Eddie answers.

"Right, you must have a girlfriend…"

"No. Listen, are we here to discuss music or my love life?" Eddie defends, and Steve feels like he must have touched a nerve, so he tries some humor.

He mimics Eddie’s hand gestures and voice from earlier. "Whoa-ho-ho, Munson! Don't get your panties in a knot about it!" And that is enough to make Eddie laugh. "Jesus, I was just getting to know you. After all, you've had a front-row seat to my car crash love life tonight." Steve self-deprecates and laughs, but Eddie doesn't.

"I'm sorry, man. I wish I'd just said something in the coffee line, but I swear what I said earlier was absolutely true. If it had been anyone other than you, I wouldn't have thought they stood a chance and warned them," Eddie says with genuine regret.

Steve takes a swig out of the bottle and reassures him, "Not the first time I got my confidence destroyed at a house party. Maybe it won't be the last, but like I said, I bounce back well enough. Last time was a whole lot worse. Met her parents, told her I loved her and meant it, and thought she did too. Turns out she didn't." Steve glances up at Eddie, who looks sad for him. "Anyway, back to why we're here. Pick a damn tape, Eddie, would ya?" Steve laughs, trying to lift the mood, and holds out the liquor bottle to him, but Eddie declines.

"Can't get too wasted. Otherwise, getting home is gonna be more of a challenge." He smiles down into the tapes.

"You can stay over if you want. There's plenty of room." Steve offers, maybe too quickly. He takes another drink to style it out.

Eddie looks up and acts all shy. "Wow, Harrington! Take a guy to dinner first," he chuckles and grins at Steve, who nearly spits out his drink.

Composing himself a little, he replies, "If I order pizza, does that count as dinner?" Steve smirks.

Eddie flips his hair over his shoulder with a flick of his hand after pushing play on the tape deck, "It's a little less than I was expecting to be wined and dined by Steve Harrington, but, uh, it'll do." He says as he grabs the bottle from Steve and takes a sip, "Holy shit, urgh." He grimaces as the night air fills with chugging guitar riffs, and a voice fills the air that Steve has definitely never heard before.

Eddie happily gestures to the boom box with both hands. "This is the self-titled album by W.A.S.P.”

Steve chuckles, “I know how to spell Wasp!”

Eddie shakes his head, “No you say Wasp but they are actually W.A.S.P.” He beams at Steve and taps the metal pin on his vest, then takes a deep breath, ”anyway It contains such mind-shredding tracks as The Flame, Tormentor, The Torture Never Stops and Show no Mercy, which has one of the finest dick-twitching solos I've ever played." Steve sees Eddie literally shudder, and he's drawn in immediately. This is what he wanted, but before he can push for more information, Eddie is out of his seat pacing around the loungers. "Also the more famous, 'I Wanna Be Somebody', 'Hellion', even a spine chilling cover of 'Paint it Black' by The Stones. For the more romantic souls out there, 'L.O.V.E Machine', 'Sleeping in the fire' and 'Animal' which is more commonly known as," and he leans right down to Steve's ear, "‘I fuck like a beast’. Which is what you're listening to right now." With a laugh, he takes another swing from the bottle, shoving it back into Steve's chest, and walks back around to his lounger, props one foot on it, and starts air guitaring and headbanging along to the song. Steve grips the lounger beneath him for dear life. He swears right there he's gonna get them tickets to every fucking W.A.S.P show he can, and he'll definitely need to buy this album now. Tomorrow, first thing.

"You can play all these?" Steve says, trying not to sound too in awe. Eddie doesn't look up from his fingers on the imaginary fretboard, and honestly, Steve doesn't blame him.

"Pretty much. Better at my favorites or the ones we play in the band." Steve needs to see that, or maybe that would undo him completely. Maybe best not to. Steve imagines how he looks on stage, sweating under the lights, straining as he yells into the microphone. "So where did it take you?"

"What?" Steve asks, wholly lost in his thoughts.

"Maybe you should slow down there, champ. Are you alright? You look a little flushed." Eddie stops what he's doing and goes over to his little lunch box, retrieves a small candy bar, and sits next to Steve on the lounger, placing it in Steve's lap. "Lemme see." Eddie grasps Steve's jaw in one hand and examines him, his eyes comically wide as he analyzes him, making Steve giggle. Eddie rolls his eyes with a smile, and taps his face, snatches up the candy bar and tosses it back in his lunch pail. "You're good." He shrugs off his jackets and leans against the backrest of Steve’s lounger, a long leg on either side of the part where Steve is sitting, making their legs graze one another occasionally as he sparks up a cigarette, which he balances in the corner of his lips. "Hendrix, where did it take you?"

The sudden display of open confidence, the way he just splays his long limbs out like that. Like he owns the place, makes something squirm inside of Steve, and maybe he feels a little shy now, saying, "I dunno, maybe it's lame." Eddie frowns as he plucks the cigarette from his mouth.

"I'll let you know if it's lame." He says, blowing smoke rings in the air.

"Er. It's difficult to explain, but sorta like things I know from that era and sound, psychedelic colors, and then like imagining watching it live," Steve's mind takes him right back to last night, "and 'Hey Joe' was like being pulled into a landscape painting, 'Are you experienced?' and 'Stone Free' was like moving through outer space, you know? Maybe I'm talking shit, but that's where I went anyway," Steve finishes, avoiding Eddie's eyes a little, as when he says it aloud for the first time, it loses all its magic.

"You listen to all music like that? I mean, go places?" Eddie mutters the question softly, and Steve chances to look over, and Eddie's expression almost looks hopeful.

"No, it just kinda happens sometimes. Like a daydream almost, and then I get these like tingles-" Steve starts, but Eddie finishes.

"Along your neck and arms?" And now Steve can hear the excitement in his voice, so he turns to him and indicates along his cheekbones, arms and legs.

"Yeah, kinda," Steve replies, and it doesn't feel bad at all having Eddie's eyes move over him like that.

"Do you play an instrument?" Eddie asks, sitting forward towards Steve now, his eyes eager for answers. Steve doesn't want to get his hopes up too high, but Eddie has not ridiculed him. Hasn't made an awkward face or an excuse to leave. If anything, he wants more, and with that power shift again, Steve tries something else. He leans back on his elbows across the lounger, his arm resting a little on Eddie's leg, and stretches out his torso comfortably.

"Eddie," he smiles, "I gotta get some questions in, too, you know?"

"Oh yeah, shoot, dude," Eddie says matter-of-factly.

"Are you gonna bite my head off again if I ask about your love life?" Steve asks with a laugh.

"Fine, as long as you tell me why you're so interested because I'd much rather be talking about music, honestly." And with a reply like that, it's almost as if Steve already has his answer.

"Look, in the record store, you were selling me that Mötley Crüe album, happy as anything, and I knew you were in a band, so my brain just assumed you were like a chick magnet, just maybe not the ones from school, you know? But then you got all nervous when I asked you about music girls liked, and whilst there isn't anything wrong with that, it wasn't what I expected. So does that explain better?"

Eddie looks a little sheepish but then smiles and shrugs. "Sorry to burst your Eddie Munson bubble there, Harrington."

Steve gestures at himself. "It's overrated. Living proof right before your eyes. Music doesn't let you down like that, though, huh?" And that earns him a sweet smile, "So tell me to fuck off at any point, but I sort of can't believe it, honestly. So is it that you don't have a girlfriend right now, or like never have?"

"Define girlfriend," Eddie says, playing with his rings.

"A girl you've taken on a date," Steve says.

"Yeah, I've had a girlfriend or two then," Eddie says, but Steve doesn't detect any fun glimmers of nostalgia, but that squashed one Hawkins rumor about Eddie, he obviously liked girls.

"But…" Steve leads him a bit further.

"But that was literally it. We just went to the movies or the diner for milkshakes," Eddie says, a little disappointed.

"You ever taken Robin, the girl I work with, on a date?" Steve pries a little further.

"Not a date as such. We just used to hang around one another a lot for a while, and then, erm," Eddie looks thoughtfully into the sky, "then I guess I asked her something, probably too personal, and I'm definitely not telling you what it is, so don't ask, and she's kind of avoided me since." Eddie looks regretful, and Steve decides to give him a break.

"I don't play an instrument. I tried a bunch of different ones but could never get one to stick. Even tried singing, which I'm ok at, but you know, not opera or anything like that."  Steve sighs and looks up to the night sky. "No matter how much I love music, I just don't have the talent to make or mimic it, apparently."

"Maybe you just had a shit, stuck-up teacher," Eddie says quickly, and that does bite of a lived experience. "When I was a kid before I moved here. I had this teacher; all he wanted to teach me was like campfire songs to do with god or nursery rhymes. I learned enough to find my way around the acoustic, but then, well, I couldn't go anymore, but honestly, by that point, I didn't want to. He sucked." Eddie raises his eyes to Steve, "But then I got here. Just my clothes and my guitar slung across my back and moved in with my Uncle. Now that guy taught me how to play. We figured out that I could actually, when not being bullied into some kumbaya shit, play by ear, and when I'd get stuck, Wayne would help me. He showed me all his anti-war favorites and even started off my savings for the guitar I have now. He got me a second-hand electric pretty quickly and amps. He's good like that. Finding the best bits of people and nurturing them. Probably regrets it a little now, though." Eddie laughs with so much fondness in his voice.

"I bet he doesn't. I bet he loves seeing how much you enjoy playing." Steve nods at the sky.

"If you wanted, I could help you learn guitar. Well, what I know anyway," Eddie says kindly, which makes Steve ignore the entire cosmos and focus on him.

"What, like what we're listening to now? Play like you?" Steve blurts out excitedly.

Eddie tries to hide his smile, "Well, anything you like, really, and I can't guarantee you'd be as good as me, but we'd try," he says as the repressed smile breaks out across his face, and Steve gives him a little playful shove, and this time Eddie returns it.

"Alright, you're on. I'll take a look at guitars tomorrow." Steve grins back.

"You can borrow one of mine if you like? It's no problem" Eddie shrugs like it's nothing, and Steve nervously swallows. God, he wants this. Wants Eddie. Wants someone who knows what he means when he explains how a song makes him feel. Who doesn't laugh at him or make a face and knows so much. Eddie feels like a drug that would be the multi gateway to everything he could possibly need. They sit silently for a minute or so, "The girlfriend thing. I, uh, well, I stopped trying because I'd get so nervous. The date would be fine, you know, I can talk the ears off of the corn harvest, but, uh, I'd just bottle it at the goodbye. I just built it up in my head too much, I think. I just wanted to get it right, and when presented with the opportunity, I thought I was gonna fuck it up, so I'd just hug them goodbye. Then they'd think I didn't like them, but I'm too much of a coward to admit I was scared, so I just stopped trying." 

"Well, you're not a coward. Navigating girls can be terrifying, Eddie, and maybe," Steve turns on his side towards Eddie on the lounger, propping his head up on his hand, "maybe you just had a bunch of shit, stuck-up teachers."

"Yeah, well, if kissing lessons were something I could buy, Harrington, believe me, I would have already invested heavily a long time ago." Eddie laughs, playing with his rings again, and Steve's so happy that Eddie isn't looking at him right now because he is literally chewing on his bottom lip, desperately trying to find a way to gently prod the opportunity the universe just chucked into his lap. Come on, Steve. 

"Well, if I'd known there was a market for that sort of thing, maybe I wouldn't have to be working slinging ice cream to attitude-filled kids loaded up on sugar." Steve laughs, looking down at and playing with the material threads of the lounger, and then glances up at Eddie subtly. 

Steve's heart skips when he finds Eddie looking up at him from under his hair, frozen, mid-picking at his nails.

"How many first kisses do you think you've been?" Eddie asks, and Steve can hear the curious caution in every word.

Fighting his every urge, Steve breaks eye contact to look up, like he's pretending to remember them all. He doesn't actually know. "Oh tons, and you know it is exactly what you said. It's all just nerves. Most of them get much better once the first one's over. Probably the same as the first time you played on stage. I'm guessing here, but you probably still get a little nervous now, but not enough to stop you, right?" Eddie makes a thoughtful noise in response, and Steve hopes he's done enough leading, but all he really wants is a red or green light to let him know what to do next, but they're sort of stuck in a kind of limbo, and he can feel the tension in him, stretching, and any minute now it's just going to snap. "I think you'll find it easy once you get past the nerves, sure there are some dos and don'ts, but, it's mostly playing it by ear, reading the other person, and from what you've said, those things come easily to you, right?"

"Right." Eddie agrees, "How did you learn, or did it just happen organically, like when it's supposed to?" Steve almost feels a little sorry for him, and he could tell the truth here, that it had just naturally occurred sitting on the porch with his middle school girlfriend watching the sunset, or he could bend the truth a little, maybe making Eddie feel better and nudge at this situation simultaneously.

Steve readjusts his position. He sits up and straddles the lounger, mirroring Eddie, facing one another. "If I tell you, you are absolutely sworn to secrecy. Ok? Like to the grave!" Steve says as seriously as he can, and Eddie perks up. His eyes revert to an excited look as they scan Steve, hungry for secrets, with a couple of enthusiastic nods. "No, you gotta swear. I mean it! I'd never live it down." Steve lays it on thick as he looks Eddie right in the eyes.

He frowns slightly to show his earnestness, "I swear, man. I would never tell. Also, even if I wanted to, that would involve exposing myself too. Why was I talking about first kisses with Steve Harrington in the first place, right?"

"Yeah," Steve makes a show of relaxing a little, and Eddie shuffles forward a little, leaning into the secret. "So believe it or not, before my first kiss, I was much like yourself, nervous about it, and I was talking to my best friend about it, and they felt the same, so we kinda, uh, practiced with one another?"

Eddie deflates a little. "Oh, I see. Well, that's not so bad. Handy to have a willing girlfriend around to help out." Eddie forces an awkward laugh.

"It wasn't my girlfriend, Eddie. It was my best friend," Steve says, hammering down each word like the heaviest hints of all time.

"You know what I mean, a friend who's a girl," Eddie says, and Steve really doesn't want to have to spell it out, but it looks like he might have to. He adds to his Eddie assessment.

Intelligent but can't read between the lines.

"I've not had a girl best friend since kindergarten, Eddie." Steve tries again.

Eddie looks horrified. "You were kissing in kindergarten? Jesus! Way to make me feel even worse about all of…" and then he stalls, like his brain engine full on cuts out. His eyes move around the lounger in between them like he's solving the meaning of life, and suddenly his head lifts, and his eyes lock with Steve's, "Your first kiss wasn't with a girl? I-I mean…your friend…it was a boy. The one you practiced kissing with was a boy. A boy?" Steve can't hold back his laughter and just nods, putting a hand on either side of his own face like he's mortified.

"Please don't tell anyone, Eddie. I just wanted you to know, as much as it would appear, I'm pretty confident in that department now. I was just as nervous as you once." Steve smiles, and his heart is pounding hard. It was a risk. A big one, but if it meant either squashing this crush or the impossibility that maybe this could happen, he needed to take it. 

"Right, ok," Eddie says, and it makes Steve a little concerned because he sounds a little panicked. Steve's heart sinks.

"Want another beer? I'm gonna go get one," Steve says, using his chipper customer service mask. He makes sure to smile big at Eddie like he isn't getting his heart crushed for the second time this evening, though this time is entirely his fault.

"Yeah, I could go for another beer," Eddie says without looking at Steve. Well, at least he didn't want to leave immediately. That was one good thing, Steve thinks as he walks as casually as possible to the fridge, ducks his head inside it, and curses.

"Shit!" He whispers and takes a deep breath before grabbing two cans. Then he hears a faint jingle.

"Is it much different?" Eddie's voice comes from the dark of the kitchen, and the rate at which Steve's head lifts makes him bang it on the refrigerator.

Steve rubs his head. "Jesus Christ, dude. Don't sneak up on me like that." He hands the can to Eddie and heads out to the pool again, but Eddie stops him, a gentle hand on his arm.

"Is there much difference between the two?" At first, Steve is confused, maybe from the jump scare or the bump to his head, but then he catches on.

"Erm…I dunno. It wasn't really a side-by-side comparison, and we were a lot younger then, but no, I don't remember anything being too different. Other than the person, but then you can kiss two girls, and they can be different too. Not everyone likes the same things, but like I say, you'll read that easy enough, or they'll let you know if they like or don't like something." It's dark in here, but he can still read the confusion on Eddie's face. "It would be kinda like you teaching guitar students to play the same song. They might all have different guitars. Some might have favored acoustic over electric, and some might embellish on parts, but it's still recognisable as the same song. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, that does make sense." Eddie's voice is much more at ease, "And even though you kissed a guy, you still like girls, right?"

"I feel like I don't need to answer that, Eddie." Steve rolls his eyes and puts a hand on his hip, making Eddie laugh.

"Yeah, yeah, of course. Sorry. I forgot about earlier." Eddie chuckles.

"That's ok. If it wasn't for you, my night could have ended a lot worse, that's for sure." Steve says thankfully. "Your friend being in town was pretty lucky."

"Hmmm, yeah, that was lucky, wasn't it." Eddie's rings tap the side of his beer can as he sways from side to side a little, and soon, some things are coming together for Steve.

"There was no friend at the party, was there?" Steve says in realization, and Eddie smiles and shakes his head in a no. "You knew what was gonna happen because you found out that guy was gonna be there."

"I suspected. I didn't know. What I said earlier was true about Gina liking you. I also remember how shitty I felt when it happened to me, but when I got there, you looked like you were having a great time, so I went to leave but heard him in one of the other rooms, and I just suspected the worst." Eddie explains, and doesn't Steve's whole heart swell at such a level of sweetness and care. He barely knew him, but he still looked out for him.

"Thanks, man," Steve smiles fondly at him. Maybe other things were impossible dreams, but he feels sure he at least has a new friend, "You know what? I'm gonna take you up on your offer. How much do you charge for a lesson?" 

"Well, I thought maybe," Eddie scratches the back of his head, "Maybe we could…I dunno…er…trade expertise?" He suggests. It's a good job Steve had spent most of his life learning to hide his emotions when he needed to, specifically for moments like this. His heart is thundering in his chest, his brain is scrambled with a million different types of static, and his hand wants to crush the can in his grip with sheer excitement. Two days ago, this wasn't even on his radar. Two days ago, this delectable taboo wasn't even on his menu. It was on a hidden secret menu only he knew about, and yet here it was, being presented on a silver platter, and it's taking every ounce of resolve he has not to grab hold of it and greedily consume it quickly before the invitation is revoked. Oh, and he knows he's been bad tonight, a little trick here and a little lie there, and maybe he does feel like a bit of a creep about it, but it's not enough to say no. He was jonesing for something he'd never even tasted, but every neuron and hormone in his body told him he wanted it. No. He needed it. He'd let future Steve live with the regret and consequences.

"Sure. That sounds good," he says pleasantly. "When shall I book you in?" He says with a friendly laugh.

"Uh, now?" Eddie says.

"Now?" Steve says, a little surprised.

"Yeah, once I get the first one done. I'm good, right? Just beginner's stage fright. Then I can grab the guitars out of the van, and I can return the favor," Eddie says like he's working through the facts in his head, and suddenly Steve's excitement is a little dampened. Eddie wanted it over with, and Steve guesses he expected it, but hearing it out loud from Eddie kinda stung a little, but that was fine, right? Or would a taste of honey be worse than none at all?

"Yeah. Cool. Um, where do you think you'd feel most comfortable? It's your nerves that are the issue, so what do you do to relax?" Steve asks, and Eddie laughs.

"Well, we've kind of already been doing that, but, uh, maybe not outside somewhere a bit more private. But, uh, this is my first time here, so I don't know where would be best." He looks around for a second. "What about where you set up last night?" Steve gives a one-shoulder shrug like his insides were not currently leapfrogging over one another to see who could get a chug of that sweet adrenaline first.

"Sure. I'll tidy up my crap, and why don't you bring your stuff in, so we can pick a song you can teach me afterwards?" 

"Gotcha! See you in a sec, smoochy-poo," Eddie cackles, and Steve laughs too, out of excitement more than anything, but he's glad Eddie is making light of the situation. It's sneaky and underhanded, but it eases the guilt hearing him joke about it, even if this was going to mean something to Steve but nothing to Eddie.

Steve quickly tidies away his tapes and almost dies when he notices he'd left the bottle of lotion down here and quickly kicks it under a chair to worry about tomorrow. He turns off the light and decides it's too dark, but with the light on, it is too bright. He decides to light one candle, so a bit of light is cast around the room, but the main lights are all off. Then he tries to find the most casual standing pose he can, trying a few, realizes he's being stupid and then fluffs some cushions, just to put the energy somewhere.

The door opens soon enough, and Eddie barrels in, tape deck in one hand, box of tapes in the other, which also now contained his lunchbox, some fresh beers, and the partially emptied bottle of liquor. His silhouette stops dead in the doorway.

"Why's it so dark in here?" Eddie asks a little nervously.

"Well, I thought, if you couldn’t see me, you could maybe pretend I was someone you wanted to kiss, you know. Maybe that would help?" Steve says kindly. "I can put the lights on if you want. It doesn't bother me." 

Eddie dumps the things in his arms, W.A.S.P still pouring out of the portable tape deck's speakers. "No, no. You're right. This is good. I trust you to be the expert here." As he turns and walks towards Steve, the light hits his face, and Steve can at least see and hear he's smiling a tiny bit.

"Ok, so, here is what I think, and if any of it feels like it's gonna make you or is making you feel uncomfortable, just say, ok? You're under no pressure here," Steve reassures him, and despite how much he wants this, he does mean that. "I thought we could do it standing, and I'll keep my hands by my sides, just in case you are worried about anything I told you earlier, and you can just go for it. No judgment, and I'll help you if you want me to, ok? Eddie's rules," Steve says kindly.

"Eddie's rules," he repeats and steps forward toward Steve, who is busy trying to be as still and least intimidating as he can, but he can see as Eddie approaches he's shaking, almost vibrating.

"Are you cold?" Steve asks, concerned.

"No, just nervous," Eddie says, his voice trembling.

Steve lifts his arms slowly from his sides to either side of Eddie's shoulders. "May I?" He says, and Eddie nods. Steve places his hands on Eddie's upper arms.

"Look at me, Eddie." And those big brown doe eyes sweep up to meet Steve's gaze. "You've nothing to worry about. You wanna not do it. That's fine. We can try another time or never speak of it again. If it's awful, you've lost nothing. I'm not someone you need to impress with this, and I'm not gonna tell a soul for obvious reasons. You're safe here." He rubs Eddie's arms gently. "And if you wanna crank the music up, move me somewhere else, change the lights, or anything at all, you can. Eddie's rules, remember?" And Steve knows this image of those sweet candle-lit eyes looking at him for reassurance might be etched into his brain forever. He removes his hands and puts them down by his sides. "Consider me like, I dunno, like a mannequin or something."

"Alright," Eddie says quietly. He's still shaking a little but not as much, and it is adorable, even if it is a million miles from the wild rock star Steve had pictured in his imagination. It is stunning, nonetheless. The candlelight was a mistake. He looks beautiful in it. 

Eddie does turn the music up, and on his way back to Steve appears to be psyching himself up, pacing around and rolling his shoulders, like he'd seen plenty of times in locker rooms before a game, and he desperately wants to laugh, but doesn't want to shake Eddie's confidence. So he waits with the same patient, friendly smile on his face.

Eddie finally takes a few steps towards him. "Ok, I got this. It's just like mwah and done. Easy." Eddie speaks his inner monologue aloud whilst staring intensely at Steve's mouth before his eyes flick up to Steve's, who returns a kind nod. Eddie rubs his hands together. "Right, here goes nothing."

Eddie closes the gap, and just like that, Eddie Munson is kissing Steve Harrington. It is one of the most fantastic and agonizing things Steve has ever experienced. Eddie's mouth is so soft and pillowy. This close, Steve can absorb the full bouquet of his aromas. Alcohol, weed, tobacco, leather, pine, patchouli, musk, engine oil, a hint of gasoline, and it's so heady Steve wants to roll his eyes back into his skull and live here forever. He smells like high-speed rock ‘n’ roll, and Steve wants it bottled. And yet, at the same time, he's restricted. He can't reach out to pull Eddie closer. He can't deepen this kiss. He can't plunge his hands into his wild hair or explore under his shirt. He has to stay perfectly still for Eddie.

Steve unexpectedly adds 'Good Kisser' to his Eddie assessment.

This memory would always have to be Steve's secret album track. One hidden after minutes worth of silence right at the end of side B that wasn't even labeled on the album itself. Hidden away from prying eyes, only there for him when he felt like delving deeply enough, but he knows this is always going to be in his top ten. A mental polaroid, their mouths perfectly fitted together just like this.

Eddie tilts into it a little more, and Steve's every fiber is crying out to match his energy, but he promised he'd stay still, but he could be pliant. There is an extra wave of alcohol between them as Steve feels pressure from Eddie's tongue, teasing his mouth to part slightly. He obliges willingly but knows not to give too much. Eddie's doing the driving here. He tries to relax by forcing his focus on the music.

Magic runs through my fingers-

One touch you'll see

Steve feels Eddie's hand gently touch the side of his face as if instructed by the singer, but then he pulls it away quickly. Steve breaks the rules, puts Eddie's hand back on his face, and pats it. Trying to let him know it's ok, but Eddie pulls away entirely. However, he keeps the distance minimal. The smile on his face is enormous, and Steve mirrors it. 

Steve wants to let out a sigh so full of longing it might launch a million love songs from bridge to chorus. A lonesome howl. Instead, he does what he's supposed to. He keeps the beat and holds that friendly smile like that didn't just happen. Like that kiss wouldn't be embossed onto his lips whenever he hears a singer croon about unrequited love. His hand forever pressed against the window pane of a place he's not on the list for.

"See, easy. You did it, man. First kiss. Check. Done." Steve draws a tick in the air with his hand, but Eddie isn't looking. He might not even be listening. Instead, his eyes are still trained on Steve's mouth.

"Say, could I get a redo on that? I noticed something, and I wanna try something else," Eddie says excitedly, and Steve can hardly believe his luck. Praise whatever powerful being is allowing this to happen right now.

"Sure thing. It's your time. Anything I can help with?" Steve asks, trying not to sound too eager to please.

"Can you, um, how can I put it….can you kiss me back this time, so I know what that feels like?" Eddie asks, the grin on his face unmoving. A Roy Orbison 'Have Mercy' rings through his brain. For Steve, it might as well be Christmas right now, it's not everything he wants, but it's something, and to be honest, the universe has let him get away with a lot this evening. 

L.O…V.E.

Keeping his cool and calm facade up, he replies, "Yeah, sure, I can do that. It's your rules, man. Your hands are fine, too, by the way. Sorry if I scared you. I was trying to let you know it was ok." He smiles more gently, and Eddie nods before turning around quickly to turn the music up even louder.

Steve notices that Eddie isn't shaking anymore, and that sweet innocent look in his eyes appears to have disappeared entirely. It feels ridiculous to even think, but if he was going to label how Eddie looks right now, he'd use the word ravenous. The backdrop of the guitar screaming out of the speakers only makes Steve's pulse race faster. Even Eddie's posture is straighter. He’s standing a little taller. His eyes don't move from Steve's mouth until he's swaggered back to where he was, their noses an inch or so apart; his eyes flick up to Steve's, and he actually winks at him, but before Steve can process what all these changes mean or where they've come from, their mouths connect again, and he is literally manhandled. 

Eddie's hands yank Steve's arms around him, leaning his back against them like he wants Steve to touch him. Meanwhile, Eddie's hands are taking a whistlestop tour of Steve. Pushing and feeling over his torso and arms as they make their way up to his neck and into his hair, Eddie eases Steve's mouth open with his own, tugging gently on his bottom lip.

The message center in Steve's brain is in two distinct factions right now: Team 'What the hell is happening?' and Team 'Hell yeah, let's fucking go!". Only then does he remember he should be doing something other than letting Eddie paw over him and try to engulf him entirely. 

Steve kisses Eddie back, licks into his mouth with all the hunger he'd been restraining, and lets his hand smooth up Eddie's t-shirt. The feeling of his body through the fabric would be unforgettable. Steve's hands are the steady grounding bass groove to Eddie's hurried electrifying lead. He is in the throes of it now, so it's really not his fault that when he feels Eddie tug on his hair slightly, he instinctively roughly pulls Eddie closer, pressing them together. The force of which pushes a grunt from Eddie, making a bolt of lightning shoot straight into the pit of his stomach. 

This is the Eddie he'd been fantasizing about, powerful, rough, brain-frazzling, just like the guitar riffs he'd been listening to that night. Who knew it was lying in wait behind one little kiss? Maybe Steve wasn't such an awful judge of character after all. He isn’t sure what is going to happen after this. Perhaps they'll be so embarrassed they'll never talk to one another again, but the lines have been crossed now. So as far as Steve is concerned, he is going to sprint into this tryst until Eddie close-lines him to the floor by simply telling him 'No' or 'Stop'.

The loud music in his ears, and the sweet melody Eddie is playing with his body, makes Steve flip the bird at the angel complaining on his shoulder as he moves one of his hands to grip Eddie's lithe waist, thumbing into the flesh with the safety barrier of the material between. The other moves all the way north to get lost in that wild mane between his fingers as he grips into it lightly, doesn't pull, just wants to feel around in there, and it is glorious. He feels Eddie's tongue retract from the wrestling match it had been having with his own, his lips smile against him before he tugs hard on Steve's hair, tipping his head backwards with force, making him emit a noise he hadn't ever heard himself produce before, inspired by a place somewhere between pleasure and pain.

Both panting for air, Steve, though in an awkward position, decides to make light of the situation. He doesn't want Eddie to stop and figures humor will let him know everything is still good. "Not bad for a second kiss, Munson."

"Careful, Harrington. You wouldn't want anyone to think you're having a good time here, innocently helping out your new buddy, right?" Eddie's sultry smile descends into a smirk as he licks a fat stripe from the base of Steve's throat all the way up to his chin, along his jawline until he's dragging his teeth over his ear, and now Steve's eyes do roll back into his skull, his eyelids flutter shut, as he feels his blood thunder south. Steve decides that the town is wrong, Eddie doesn't worship the devil. The level of temptation and amount of sinful thoughts surging through Steve right now might mean that he is in the hands of Apollyon himself. Relief sweeps over him as Eddie finally pushes him into a wall, glad for something to help keep him standing.

He worries about the potentially embarrassing firmness rapidly developing below his belt, and a good Steve, a wise Steve, would tell Eddie to ease up, but those Steves are out to lunch. The only Steve remaining is munching on popcorn, yelling more, more, more, and switching every sign to green. "Jesus Christ, Eddie," is all he manages breathlessly.

Eddie's hand is still firmly holding Steve's head back as his other hand caresses his face and starts to move achingly slowly down his neck and chest as Eddie rasps in his ear, "You know, Harrington, you really should learn to ask more open questions." He must see the look of confusion on Steve's face because he laughs deeply, and it vibrates through Steve's body, not helping his current predicament in any way.

Another tug on his hair, and the hand on his chest moves lower still. Eddie's fingers trace gently along the outlines of his muscles through his sweatshirt. It's only then Steve realizes his own hands have turned limp against Eddie. He forces his eyes to look to the side to finally meet Eddie's in the darkness, waiting for answers that aren't emerging. Steve dips the fingers of the hand on Eddie's waist, along the waistband of his jeans, and he runs them around it gently until he finds a belt loop to hook a finger into and pulls Eddie against him again. A gasp and groan swim into Steve's ear. At the same time, he feels Eddie's stiffness against his hip. Steve bites down so hard on his own lip he's sure it might draw blood. "What do you mean?" He manages when the ability to think and speak finally returns.

Eddie deeply chuckles again before slowly, rhythmically thrusting his hips against Steve, causing a harmony of noises from them both. "Mmm, we sound good together, don't we?" Eddie purrs as his eyes trail over his face. The rough denim shifts the fabric of his trousers over his leg. The outside has the firm pressure from Eddie, but it's when the material gently brushes up and down the inside of his thigh that is really causing a cerebral malfunction. Steve should stop him. This is too far, too telling, he's exposed what he is, letting him get away with it, but if he does, this might never happen again, and he wants this so badly. Everything about this guy is musical. His tempo and basal noises are like sinful arias that Steve wants on repeat, his fingertips moving over him, conducting Steve's body to do exactly whatever he wants. Eddie ceases his pelvic onslaught. "I have a confession," he mutters gently as his fingers move to the lines where Steve's abdomen meets his hips, making Steve's usually very comfortable slacks feel like his worst enemy. "You see, I kinda didn't lie, but I didn't tell you the whole truth either." 

On instinct, Steve's fingers have been working away at freeing Eddie from his clothes. This is usually where a girl might bat his hand away, or if he was lucky, they'd help him out by removing it themselves. Eddie doesn't do that. He keeps his eyes on Steve and does nothing to stop or aid him. He simply allows it. With the freedom he's clearly been bestowed, Steve isn't sure why he doesn't immediately relieve Eddie of his clothes. Instead, it makes him untuck Eddie's band tee much more slowly than he actually wants to, like carefully unwrapping a gift. But as Eddie stops talking, he stops untucking. A smile ticks at the corner of Steve's mouth like he's playing a little game. Eddie pushes him lower slightly, so he can look down into his eyes as he tilts his head, raising an eyebrow. It's a spinning coin of who has the power here, and Steve didn't realize until right now how soul-stirring that could be.

"We were talking about girls, right?" Eddie continues, a subtle tremble appearing in his voice, and Steve teases some of the fabric free as he speaks, his finger accidentally ghosting over the skin underneath. Eddie's words cease. Steve stills his fingers and watches him crumble slightly. Eddie whines and bites his lip, nodding, before taking a deep breath. "And everything I said about girls was one hundred percent true. I'd never outright lie to you. It was just a simple twisting to just see if…." Steve continues around his waistband until he realizes Eddie is repeating himself, and he starts tucking the t-shirt back in and moves his hand away. "No-no-no," Eddie says much more quickly, dropping out of his deep sultry tone to something Steve is more used to hearing, and he pouts.

"That's cheating," Steve smiles up at him.

"Sorry, sorry," Eddie apologizes and takes Steve's hand, placing it back where it was. "Please."

"Then confess," he says sternly, making Eddie wet his lips with his tongue.

"I hadn't kissed a girl. I tried. I like girls. I dated a bunch." Eddie's storytelling trait leaves the building, as all he is left with are short sentences, his eyes looking for Steve's hand teasing the material until the shirt is entirely free. He swallows thickly before he speaks again, "And I did give up after I chickened out a few times. That was all true." Steve's hand slithers under the soft cotton fabric of Eddie's T-shirt, and as his fingertips touch Eddie's stomach, his head flies back, and Steve can see his Adam's apple bobbing away, as he unleashes a string of whispered curse words into the air; his chest heaves up and down, and his grip almost pulsing in Steve's hair. He stays perfectly still, waiting for Eddie to return from wherever his brain and Steve's touch just sent him. Lets his hand linger, hoping it weaves a white-hot print into his skin forever. Hopes the place is accidentally brushed over one day, and this moment swamps his brain like the sweetest refrain.

'Cos bad boys they do

After a few seconds, his head lowers again, looking intensely into Steve's eyes, and he can feel the smooth abdomen and rise and fall against his palm. Other than the subtle movements of their bodies, they are caught in a stalemate. Without breaking their shared lustful stare save for an occasional blink, Steve flexes his trembling fingers lightly so the tips of them brush featherlight against Eddie’s softer-than-expected skin, and Eddie’s eyelids flicker for a moment. “So if that was all true, what was the lie?” Steve asks softly as his fingers graze over small patches of his torso, making minute circles that he is unsure about dealing out. Steve had felt a sizable number of bodies before, but this one is hot as a volcano and potentially just as volatile with one incorrect shifting of the fault-riddled ground they’d made together tonight. He has no idea what is too far here. Steve feels he is walking a high wire of intimacy. One wrong move and it could all be over. It all comes flooding into his mind at once how very little he knows about Eddie. How potentially dangerous this could be. What if Steve crosses a line, and it sets him off? Steve’s heart pounds in his chest, unsure of how to proceed.

With his head still tilted back in Eddie's hand, he looks down his nose and gingerly reaches out for Eddie's hand, wraps his fingers cautiously around his wrist, and to his relief, he lets him take it. He places it on his wrist, partially obscured by the T-shirt it hides under. Steve meets his eyes again, and Eddie’s hand chases after Steve’s under his shirt. He looks down at Eddie’s chest, can make out the bumps of his knuckles through the cotton, and spreads his fingers slightly so they disappear, and Eddie’s digits fall into the spaces between his own. A slight glint of a smile twitches at the corner of Eddie’s mouth as he tightens his grip and moves Steve’s hand over his body with a gulp, watching Steve like a hawk, and for a moment, he thinks maybe Eddie is just as scared of him. He moves their hands slowly to his chest, and his eyes close as he licks his lips. His chest is rising and falling much more profoundly and hurriedly now. He smooths their loosely joined hands slowly down him to his side, over the ripple of his ribs under Steve's fingertips. Eddie observes Steve the whole time, and the tension is eating away at him, so he pushes. “You didn’t answer. What was the lie?” Steve asks again.

Eddie's hand leaves him, and his skin misses the red-hot heat of his palm already. It shoots out to the side of Steve's head against the wall, and Eddie slowly bends his elbow to lean his face back into Steve’s space. Steve tries his absolute best to stay calm, but his heart thunders in his chest, and his eyes flicker back down to Eddie’s mouth. He feels a deep ache—one more kiss. One more, and then he’ll stop.

Eddie’s smile grows to a wicked thing above him as he studies Steve’s face. "The lie? No, Steve. Not a lie, just not the whole truth. I’ve never kissed a girl, and I do like them. But I also like guys.” Steve’s eyes must betray him entirely with surprise because Eddie’s grin widens, ”And I kissed a whole bunch of them a whole lotta times," he manages before adding to that total by kissing Steve ferociously, clashing them together almost painfully and pulling away roughly, "and you can't really blame me when the hottest guy in the universe offered me a kiss for nothing. Out of the goodness of his precious, kind heart." Eddie’s eyes drop lower, and soon he’s gone from where Steve can see. The next thing he feels is his soft wet lips mouthing over Steve's throat. The quick switch to gentleness has him finally releasing his hair and cupping the back of his neck. "You forgive me, right, sweetheart?" He speaks it into his skin, and he’s right. He does, but he can’t currently articulate the words to do so. Steve is pleasantly surprised that Eddie duped him. That means that Eddie wanted him, too, right? Maybe not in the same way, but in some way. A smile breaks on Steve's face as he lets the wave of pleasure crash over him as frequently and as heavily as they like. 

Make the grade.

He adds ‘Phenomenal Actor’ to his Eddie assessment list.

Steve laughs, making Eddie stop, but Steve doesn't have time to reassure him. The danger is gone, but it is no less exhilarating. He finally uses his strength to push off the wall and trade places. Eddie looks confused, maybe even a little scared, until he scans over Steve’s face centimeters from his own, smiling broadly, laughing in between pants for breath. As Steve pushes off him and removes his blazer and sweatshirt, Eddie no longer seems so worried.

"What did I do to deserve all this?" His eyes rake over every newly exposed inch of Steve, which feels like the most glorious thing in the world. Eddie wants him. It is looping over in his brain like a scratched record.

They're gonna drive me crazy yet.

"Well, let's see, you told the truth." Steve pushes his hardness into Eddie's thigh, and the relief from that tiny bit of contact is almost enough to make Steve collapse onto Eddie, but now he knows they had both been misleading one another a little, and he wants to play up to it.

"I did, I really did. I was so good for that, wasn't I?" Eddie agrees enthusiastically, his eyebrows pushing together as he looks from Steve's face to the friction between them as Eddie slides against him again, and Steve almost short circuits.

Prior to right now, Steve's general part in this kind of dynamic was mostly being grateful. Grateful for a girl, to let him touch her in any way. Even with Tommy, it was almost like a mutual science experiment, but Steve has found two new things he was into in the few short minutes of whatever this was developing between him and Eddie, so he pokes at one. 

"But you also made me aware that someone as good at acting as you cannot be trusted." Steve rolls his hips away from Eddie, leaving him shaking his head quickly in a sort of panic, and watching Eddie crave him like this was sending undulating shockwaves throughout himself. Sure, he's been the subject of coy glances, big eyes full of affection, maybe something close to love, but to be desired so desperately is not something he is accustomed to. It prickles at his nerve endings until his whole body feels so sensitive, like the merest hint of a breeze against it could send him crashing back into Eddie for more.

"It wasn't all acting, I swear. I was nervous about kissing you, but for different reasons than I said," Eddie babbles. His fingers dig into Steve's forearms as he grasps for them. Make that three. Usually, when he was gripped this way, it was by the soft pads at the ends of dainty fingers, maybe even the light scratches of perfectly manicured fingernails. Eddie's fingers aren’t like that. The tips are covered mostly in calluses from playing the guitar, and the roughness of his palms is probably from working with his hands. Steve suspects it's perhaps his van. Immediately jealous that it might be from all the rough surfaces Eddie has pushed other guys up against. He shuts his eyes momentarily as the textures graze across his arms, and his brain takes him to a sweltering hot day, Eddie leaning into the engine of his van, sweat dripping from him, covered in streaks of engine oil or grease, and it is doing Steve no favors in his attempt to calm down. He listens to the music around them for a reprieve, but it doesn't come. The singer only urges him on. He wonders if Eddie selected this album intentionally. If it was part of his plan all along, to bewitch Steve with a wicked potion of himself and the suggestive lyrics in the air.

That smokin' powder keg you're riding on is hell-bound

Steve rushes him, throwing a forearm over his head and leaning his whole weight against it on the wall so he looms over Eddie, breathing hard but keeping a distance between their bodies, hoping to create a chasm between them that they’d fill with the desire behind their eyes. He carefully leans in and speaks his words into Eddie's slightly parted mouth. "Would you have forgiven me if our roles had been reversed? If I had tricked you tonight?" His eyes rise sleepily from Eddie's lips to his hooded eyes, and a shuddering breath escapes the man under him, and Steve's stomach flips.

"Yeah. Yes. A million times, yes. I'd forgive you." Eddie looks like he's in pain as his words drip with yearning. Steve smiles down at him, and he can see the wave of realization move gradually across Eddie's face, "You tricked me?" He says slowly in an unbelieving whisper. His big eyes look up at Steve so innocently for a moment that it makes him positively growl into Eddie's neck because this is fucking sensational. He knows at any point he could throw up his hands, and Eddie would take the reins, or he could continue to overpower him, dominate him like this. He honestly can’t read what Eddie prefers, but he also had no idea what he liked better, either. It all feels good, maybe a little too good.

At the altar of rock 'n' roll you'll kneel.

"It wasn't a trick, exactly. It was more a bending of the truth and then a little pushing my luck," Steve says quietly as he mouths down his neck, his tongue tasting the sharpness of cheap cologne that Steve wouldn't have replaced by anything more expensive. It is perfection. He latches on when he reaches the base of his throat, hoping to leave Eddie with a memory of this evening, a warning to anyone else that sees it, at least for a few days, making Eddie hiss a breath between his teeth. Increasing the pressure as the guitar desperately wails in the sweet syrupy air around them. At first, he thinks he might have been too rough and hurt him until Eddie's hands guide his head back for more. "You like that?" Steve asks for the first time.

"I'd like it better if the rest of you wasn't so far away," Eddie half-complains.

"Yeah, well, I'm not sure you deserve it after being so deceptive." Steve laughs, taking his throat between his teeth again and sucking down. He dares to glance up at Eddie's expression and regrets it immediately because he looks like absolute sin, his head thrown back against the wall, sweat sticking his hair to his face, his kiss-swollen mouth hanging open like it's desperately waiting for something obscene to fill it. Though he can't see them in the dim light, he bets those coral pink triangles of blush are adorning his face right now.

Hellion! The devil's Hellion child

"You're not really selling the whole telling you the truth thing, you know?" Eddie catches him staring up at him and grins until he's cut off by Steve bursting another bunch of his blood vessels to decorate his pretty neck. Then he's catching his breath, gasping, and sighing into the air above them as his eyes slide closed. 

"Yeah, but imagine how much more you could have right now if you'd been good," Steve says as he releases and towers over him again, and Eddie lets him, despite them being roughly the same height. A mischievous grin spreads across Eddie’s face as his hips rut forward and grind against him again, almost taunting him. It feels so sinfully good. Steve almost whimpers but presses his lips together just in time. He looks at Eddie, who is already watching him, with a slightly arched eyebrow. As their eyes lock, he does it once more. His brow knits, and his mouth drops open a little. Steve recognises it as almost too much. A moan rolls out of him in the silence between songs, and Steve can't resist that open invitation to capture it. But the next song seeps into his ears, slower, gentler, and Steve lets the music puppet him. He reaches out to cup Eddie's jaw, thumbing at his cheek where he can feel those little patches of heat hiding in the darkness. The music slows his touch and breathing. He lets his eyes search Eddie's for the keys to unlock what he's holding back. Eddie releases a sigh.

Click.

Look, look in the candlelight.

Completely lost in the moment, he finally lets his mind take him and Eddie somewhere else entirely. Suspended in a dark nothingness, only one another's highlights revealed by the faintest light until flames burst from the floor to lick at their bodies. He claims Eddie's mouth with his own and tastes him again, consuming his sounds of pleasure like it was the ambrosia of the gods. He mentally adds to his Eddie assessment.

Exceedingly good at reading me.

As Steve draws back again, just to escape how good Eddie feels, before this ends too soon for his liking, Eddie says, "Come on, Steve. If I'd been really good and told no lies, neither of us would have much of anything right now." His hands move over Steve's body as smoothly as his voice fills his ears until they find their way around his waist, splay out against his back and pull him in closer again. "So maybe, don't think about it too much. Maybe call it even and don't think about anything at all." Eddie's hands move lower, grazing the small of his back, gliding into and over the dimples there, until his fingertips are playing with the back of his waistband, and he slightly dips them inside of it. He raises his eyes to Steve's and holds his gaze through his eyelashes, and Steve realizes he's silently asking for permission. 

And cry out the name of which I yearn.

Eddie doesn't know, but this is the furthest he's ever gone with a guy. He and Tommy had a few make-out sessions. There had been some moments where other parts of their bodies had brushed against one another, but primarily accidental, not purposeful like this. Not urgent wanting like this. It was the hands above the belt rule that kept it safe, that kept it in a forgivable friendly experiment zone. Even if they'd ended up visibly aroused by anything, they'd laugh it off, slap one another on the back, and find a bathroom each, as far apart as possible. This is not like that. He desperately wants to cross that line, specifically with Eddie, but the icy fear is steadily creeping its way past Eddie's flaming hot hands and up his spine. If he stepped over that line, there were no excuses then. It's only when Eddie speaks again he realizes he's frozen. "Steve? Hey, you ok?" Eddie's fingertips immediately retreat to the outside of the waistband of Steve's slacks.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine, I'm good," Steve says confidently, even laughing for good measure, but inside, he is terrified. He surges forward to kiss Eddie again, who accepts, but Steve notices it's much more like their first one. Soft, slow, gentle. He feels the firm pressure of Eddie's arms surrounding him, and it's a sorely needed comfort to slow down the insanity that is going on within him right now. Eddie's eyes scan his face. "Is that as far as you got?" He asks, and there is that kindness in his voice again. He's changed back to the guy that cared enough to be there tonight for Steve, with absolutely no idea there was anything in it for him at all. Steve swallows nervously and nods, looking down to the floor, a little embarrassed that his fear had suddenly surpassed his enthusiasm. He doesn't understand why Eddie isn't upset right now, why he isn't pushing him away, calling him a cocktease, or something worse. Sure Steve had never in his life treated anyone like that, no matter where they paused or stopped proceedings, but from what the girls revealed to him as he'd hold them in his arms, reassuring them it didn't matter, it wasn't a big deal, most guys got pissed about it. He was an exception.

"Steve. It's ok." His arms tighten around him, and one hand starts rubbing a soothing circle on his back as he stands to his full height again. 'Look at me. Please"

Steve quickly glances at him and looks away just as rapidly. "Can you try to look at me for a bit longer, please? I know it's difficult on account of how hideous you find me." The smile in his tone is evident, and Steve dares to look again. "There you are," Eddie says with a huge smile, and Steve offers him a weak one back. "Remember earlier, we were talking about Eddie's rules?" He brings a hand to touch the side of Steve's face, carefully moving a few strands of hair away from his eyes. Steve can't bring himself to say anything. He looks down again and feels stupid. Eddie catches his chin on the crook of his index finger and tilts his head back up. "Well, number one on the list of Eddie's Rules is all parties have to be into what's happening at all times. Understand? Because if you're not into it, I'm not into it, ok? That's how it works for me. I'm not being a martyr here," he smiles and looks down where they are still pressed together. "When I know someone's having a good time with me because of me, that's my thing. That's what gets me off." Eddie pretends to be deep in thought as he looks back up. "Well, that and a hundred other things probably, but that's definitely my favorite and most important." He lets out a soft laugh that makes the tension boiling in Steve rest to a simmer.

Steve casts his eyes down to the collar of Eddie's t-shirt, rolls it between his fingers and sighs, "Sorry. I know it must seem like a weird line to have, considering everything else we’ve been doing. You must be disappointed," Steve says regretfully, and Eddie laughs so loudly, making Steve’s eyes snap to him in alarm.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Do you have any idea where I've been for the past I don't fucking know minutes? I'm day-slash-night walking in fantasy, Steve. You have no idea how many times I thought about this. How many different ways. I never. Hand on heart. Never thought it would happen. And believe me when I say I thought I had a fantastic imagination, being a storyteller, a musician, and a dreamer, but nothing I came up with was anywhere close to how amazing this is. Seriously." His hand cups Steve's jaw, and his thumb runs across his cheekbone. "So no, sweetheart, I'm not disappointed. I am a man, light years away from the town of disappointment, ok?"

Steve smiles but rolls his eyes with his patented half-smile. Eddie looks and sounds genuine, but he can't help but feel maybe he'd wanted or expected more.

"I know what you're thinking, Steve. I think I rammed my tongue so far down your throat I tasted your innermost thoughts, so I'll be one hundred percent honest with you. I would be lying if I said I didn't want more. But I always want more. It's who I am. I'm greedy for attention, affection and, right now, you. I am. I'll hold my hands up to that. But I am not disappointed. So you've got nothing to apologize for except being so damn delectable. And maybe don't even be sorry for that because-" Steve cuts him off with a kiss that sets off a box of exhibition-sized fireworks inside of Steve, an orchestral crescendo that runs in ripples over his skin. Fuck, he likes this guy so much more than he thought he did or could.

"You know, I can talk more if that's how you'll keep me quiet the rest of the night?" Eddie smiles as he blinks back into the present. 

"You know I'm in one too?" Steve says quietly, brushing the sweat-dampened hair from Eddie's face.

"Huh? In one? One what?" Eddie looks completely bamboozled.

Steve chuckles, making Eddie's face light up. "I mean, I'm in a fantasy too."

"Fuck off!" Eddie exclaims so loudly in shock it makes Steve lean back. "You are not!" Steve nods, and Eddie's mouth is wide open in excited surprise as he gestures to himself. "Me? Really?" 

"Yeah," Steve says softly, draping his arms around Eddie's neck.

"You have no idea the inner turmoil I'm in right now. Like, I know, I can't tell anyone about this, and I won't, but if I could, shit, the fucking urge to rub this in all their stupid faces is strong. Steve Harrington was fantasizing about lil' ol' me." He flutters his eyelashes. "Feed my ego, Steve. Tell me everything, please."

"Ah, no. That's private," Steve says, frowning a little.

"Ok, ok. At least tell me for how long?" Eddie asks, his arms around Steve, shaking him left to right with excitement, and Steve sighs.

"Since yesterday." And almost immediately, Eddie pouts his downturned lips as his shoulders sink.

"Damn, you don't mess around, do ya?" Eddie replies with a lot less excitement.

"Ok, so you definitely seem disappointed now," Steve remarks.

"Yeah, that's because I am." Eddie pouts again, and Steve is amusedly taken aback by his honesty. At least this reaction confirmed he was telling the truth moments ago.

"Why? Like, why be disappointed about this and not me ruining everything," Steve asks curiously.

"Ok, stop. You ruined nothing. This is different. I just learned you'd been thinking about me, and I guess I imagined it would have been for longer than a day, Steve. What? No pining? No finding out when I'm on shift so you can watch my fine ass walk by? No, Eddie daydreams out of the window. Just one day? How? How is that possible? What did I do yesterday that I didn't do any other of the days we've known one another? I look the same. I act the same. Is it? Is it because you think I'm turning over a new leaf with a legitimate job? Because you should know I'm not." Eddie lets the words leave him like rapid fire as he puzzles through the situation, "Is it name tags? ‘Cus I can get my hands on as many name tags as you want. Oh, wait, is it because I asked for your help? Like a good Samaritan kink or something because, again, my teachers will tell ya I need all the help I can get."

"It's because yesterday I knew, well, I hoped you were like me," Steve answers.

"Oh, the liking guys thing?" Eddie guesses, and Steve shakes his head in a no, and Eddie wrinkles up his nose adorably.

"Music. You talk out loud about music, the way I feel inside about music. In the record store, the way you described the Hendrix album felt different from when you were assessing the others, and earlier tonight, the way you talked about this one," Steve gestures to the air to indicate the music still playing, "and then you knew what I was talking about when I talked about those sensations. And I thought maybe you'd get me. And then I remembered you were in a band, and I thought how amazing that must feel, to play these things and feel like I feel when I only listen to them. Then I couldn't stop thinking about how you might look, getting totally lost in it." Steve takes a breath, realizing how amped up he is talking about this, staring intensely into Eddie's eyes. He's suddenly aware he's talking louder, excitedly, his hands around the back of Eddie's neck, twisting his fingers into Eddie's hair. "Sorry." He says with an awkward laugh and dials it down a few notches back to normal Steve levels.

Eddie says nothing, only gazes back at him, a soft, thoughtful look on his face, blinking a few times before he says, "Don't stop on my account." And right there in a dimly lit room, W.A.S.P still playing loudly in the background, half-dressed, his hair wildly disheveled, Steve Harrington falls for Eddie Munson. 

Shit. This is bad. Fooling around, secret crushes and fantasies were one thing, but this? This is something else entirely. Dangerous even. But Steve knows. He emphatically knows the difference between something purely physical, something lustfully wanton, and this. This spins his head like a record, his stomach turns cartwheels, and his heart isn't pounding quickly like the hooves of galloping wild horses anymore. It's thudding. A resounding, steady thud. A bluesy John Lee Hooker boom, boom, boom, boom.

"Really?" Steve asks carefully.

"Do you know the level of nerd you have in your arms right now? I mean, I'm a pretty, foxy one at least, but yeah, really, Music was the first thing I remember being completely obsessed with." Eddie smiles. "I had no idea until we were by your pool that music wasn't anything but background noise to you or something to dance with girls to. All I knew about you was you liked sports, were rich, a little bit of a bitch, and so goddamn pretty. I would happily talk about and listen to you talk about music for hours." 

Steve wants to ask, but he just stares. He doesn't want to scare Eddie away, but he wants to know if this is just tonight, some fun between friends, or if…if there could be a tomorrow, or next week, or month, or year, or fucking forever.

"Wanna share with the class?" Eddie says, with a sweet encouraging smile.

"Well, two things, one for you and one for me," Steve says. "Which first?"

"Oh, definitely you first, sweetheart," Eddie drawls, and Steve desperately tries to focus on his words and not any hidden meanings that his body is trying to convince him of right now.

"So, I was wondering, and it's absolutely fine if not, but do you maybe wanna hang out again tomorrow or another night this week?" Steve asks, using his confident mask.

"Like we have tonight?" Eddie asks slowly.

"Yeah, or just-" Steve tries to answer.

"Stop right there." Eddie presses a finger to Steve's still-speaking lips. " Yes! Absolutely yes, Steve. Yes. It's a yes. Big fat, yes. Thank you very much," Eddie answers firmly without hesitation, before a colossal grin breaks across his face, and then he suddenly looks puzzled. "Wait, that was for you? What in the world do you have for me?" But Steve has stalled now. He's still processing how eagerly Eddie agreed, and he's very aware of his own breathing and the pulse in his ears until he's snapped out of it by a ringed hand waving in his face.

"Earth to Steve. Helloooo?" Eddie tries, and Steve tries to remember what he was talking about before he started plotting out their future together.

"So, for you, yes, erm, ok, so kinda embarrassing, but I thought you might like to know that whilst I only fantasized about you for one day, it was…." Steve licks his lips and blinks like he can't believe he's going to say this out loud, but he wants Eddie not to be disappointed. He looks into Eddie's expectant eyes in the darkness. "It was, um…intense and um…vigorous." Steve sees his eyes go a new level of wide before he looks impressed with himself.

"Oh-ho-ho, really? Now that does make me feel a little better." Even in the low light, his huge toothy grin is beaming at Steve. "You know I can run out to the van any time you like, grab that guitar and happily give you your own private concert."

"You would?" Steve asks dreamily as he thinks about that image momentarily and slides closer to Eddie until their silhouettes merge into one against the wall.

"Oh yeah, with fucking bells on." Eddie grins, his eyes dropping to Steve's mouth again, then looking him up and down. "Is this you indicating you might wanna rewind and within the lines have a little more fun now?"

"Yeah," Steve breathes against his lips. "That ok?"

"That ok?" Eddie playfully mimics and laughs. "Yes, of course, gorgeous. Absolutely ok! Maybe, as I'm staying over anyway, we can do the same tomorrow too?" Eddie says, walking Steve backwards to the couch, his eyes lazily looking over Steve's face as he guides him to sit and lowers him down, cradling the back of his head gently to lie back. "Ok, like this?" He asks as he shuffles into his lap. Steve nods happily and wraps his arms around Eddie's waist.

"Who knows, maybe tomorrow won't be the same? Maybe a sweet, handsome, nerdy guy can help me get a little further tomorrow? Because with him, I'd really like to eventually. You know, do more," Steve says positively; though he can feel the heat rise up his face, he is smiling up at Eddie as he leans in close and presses a kiss to his lips before sitting back and taking off his t-shirt. Eddie pauses like he's allowing him the time to look over him. Steve makes a mental note of all the places he's going to explore later, all the ink buried in Eddie's skin he's going to get intimately acquainted with every minuscule detail of, maybe even leave his signature next to them, so Steve can be buried under Eddie's skin there right along with them.

"From what I know of that guy, he will be more than eager to assist, but he's also not in any kind of rush. He'll be beside himself that he got so fucking lucky to get his lips on the second hottest music nerd in town." And before Steve can laugh and reach up to playfully push him off, Eddie leans down against his hand to kiss him longingly, his untamed hair draping around them both like the softest black-out curtains against the outside world, their sounds intertwine harmoniously once more as they breathe one another in and out. 

Symbiotic. Just like Eddie said.

Whilst their song sends Steve's imagination into the serenity of outer space, his fingertips of the hand wedged between them moves over Eddie's skin, across to the center of his chest, until they find what Steve's been after for so long. 

A beat that wholeheartedly moves him.

#steddiebang23 #steddie big bang #steddie big band 2023 #steddie fic #steddie fan fiction #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steddie fan art #steddie fanart #steddie fluff #steddiebang23 masterposts

[richeeduvie]

Saw a vid of a mom asking her husband if he would babysit their daughter (as a prank tehe bc this one influencer made a vid ab how she has to bribe her husband to “babysit” their child and it was v upsetting bc she was just laughing it off :(() anyways the dad was like:

“??? what ru trying to say ¿¿¿ of course I’ll spend quality time with our daughter while ur out, don’t call it babysitting I’m not sitting on no baby 🤬”

He was so angry at the implication he wouldn’t want to take care of his baby for one night, it just gave ROMAN!! He would bite Baby’s head off if she tried to mess w him like this, and then he would bite her leg for trying to leave the house without her life companions. Why can’t he come with you to the spa? It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t want any services they provide, he is perfectly content to sit on a chair in complete silence and just stare at your face while u get pampered. That IS his preferred self care routine. And the baby? The misty air and soothing aura has her in a deep slumber, her chunky cheeks smooshed into her papas chest she’s securely wrapped against. She’s a perfect little thing, Roman is,,, a scrappy little thing BUT STILL! Baby mommy claims to love him anyway, so why does she want to go alone???

All of this just for Baby to not even have an actual evening away planned 😭 poor woman. She just upset her impish man, and saddened her angel who heard her papas wails of distress “Mama u want to go away 😞?” Stupid Roman when will he learn he can’t go on his tirades anymore, there’s a toddler who roams these halls! Baby pinches him and walks away pissed w her baby, he’s always ruining her fun. He comes to bed an hour later, she makes him grovel but puts him out of his misery because he did in fact book them a weekend getaway to the Hamptons yay! All 3 Roy’s are coming tho bc he’s still her ball and chain.

This took me so long to type and it’s supposed to be a request 😭 my apologies, feel free to change anything and everything you’d like, I gotta go take a test I’ve had all day to complete and pushed to the last minute.

I love when you people write drabbles. I get to be the reader. I get to consume!! And it's always great. I love this!

Babysitter

Roman Roy x Reader blurb - DogandBone!AU

He is her father. Not her fucking babysitter.

------

Roman watches your daughter just toddle around. She's perfect. And this is perfect. He's such a father.

He became a father when you had her, yeah. But here - just looking at her, something soft and swallowed in his eyes, it's all the more prominent.

She plays with blocks. Roman watches intently. It makes you warm and you think he's under the sun like this, he's getting red in the face for it. He can't handle her being cute, which at this point, you think that just means your little girl being a little toddler.

"Top blue. No red. Ba ba blue."

It almost breaks away the giddiness of a prank.

Roman's with your baby all the time. You are with your baby all the time. You're with Roman all the time. Safe to say, you think he'll call you an idiot whore for the idea that he's babysitting. That or it'll be meanie. Mean wife.

You smile.

"Roman, I was planning on going out tonight."

"...It's five. I have to get ready? You didn't want to plan on going out tonight yesterday? Look at her, she's not mentally prepared for being outside. Also, fuck the outside. It was smelling like sewage when we came in, but I think it was that guy who looked like his name was Eddie."

"I was just thinking by myself. I didn't make an appointment but I think they can fit me in for a semi-retreat."

Roman looks to the babbling toddler with her blocks. She's very focused on building it high. Then he turns to you.

"Are you sick of me? Fuck you. What did I even do?"

"Nothing. I just felt impulsive for a spa night."

"I didn't even do anything - like actually...nothing? And now you want to go get your feet rubbed by someone else? Whore. Whore Mommy."

"Ba!"

You roll your eyes. You know Roman has to remember that he gets too whiny and puppy-eyed whenever you mention a foot rub you've had from a spa day. You've taken your feet just for him.

"It'll be quick. Maybe a facial. You can babysit her for a bit?"

"I can literally give you a facial. If you make me, I can-"

Roman's shift with his hands, his attempt to convince, humor, and humiliate.

"...What did you just...what the fuck?"

His eyes get sorta squinty. He's riled. You like Roman riled - you can always get him small and defenseless when he goes too far in a defense. But here, in how you try not to laugh, you'll have to know when to settle.

Maybe now with the vein popping in his forehead.

"Daddy go swear. No swear, Daddy. Blocks like when ears are clean."

Her block tower is almost as tall as her. But she's come up to Roman, shaking her head at his bent knee. She's making sure her Daddy hears her.

You swallow when Roman's not bending his anger to his humor. He just squeezes your daughter's chubby little hand.

You don't think the word babysit has sat well with him at all.

"Did you just tell me to fu...did you kinda just tell me to babysit her?"

Yes, you do. It was funnier in the video. But the husband in the video wasn't Roman.

You should know better, you love him too much that you should know better.

"Why Daddy look crazy?"

Roman pinches his nose bridge and swallow again.

"You just piled a cock-load. A massive cock-load of hurt on me. Wow. Okay." He stands. He's gotten so seriously so quickly. "You're mean and you've been snorting my dead dad's blood clot medication or maybe you've had a brain aneurysm because is she not my kid?"

Your daughter, her sweet head looking up to her Daddy, looks just as confused as you.

"I have not left this place and I really didn't want to because she's my kid. It's not babysitting - I'm not a nanny. We agreed on no nannies? I'm a nanny?"

"Roman-"

"Is this your way of telling me I've been secretly cucked and she's not my baby?"

"...M' not baby?"

You and Roman both turn at the softest voice. It's sweet and genuine and so toddler-like. She is too cute and she is just a toddler. A perfect child who bites her fingers.

Then Roman looks sick - and even though you're the dumb one here, it serves him right for making your sweet girl ask the question in the first place.

"No. Honey, you're my baby. I'm not a babysitter. Do I look like I crush babies?"

Roman's voice tightens in a whine. Possessive and defensive. All of him in the small of his throat.

"Mommy just doesn't like us." Roman looks down, feigns a moment of thinking with his the line of his mouth pushing to one side. "Well, what are we gonna do? We just have to let her go away and do a spa day without us. It's just us now. Forever. Sucks for Daddy mostly cause I've always planned suicide for this route but-"

"Roman."

"Mommy?"

"Oh, sweetheart-"

Her tiny, perfect voice breaks. She's more confused than ever and your heart twists.

"Mommy. No go, I don't-I don't-" She looks to Roman. "...You go away? Why?"

She's very soft and shy in her voice, like she always is. Still too kind for a toddler as she gets teary-eye.

You look to Roman, it's easy to show disappointment along your face.

He looks like he's about to vomit watching his daughter.

You bend down.

"No, sweetheart. Mommy's not going anywhere. Nowhere, okay? I was just joking. Daddy was just joking."

"I don't- I don't know."

"It's okay. Now you do. Mommy's here forever."

She sniffles and unlike her father, she doesn't feign thinking - she thinks really hard. She nods and rubs her cheek against your chest.

"Sorry for crying. But okay." She wraps her arms around you as much as she can. "Daddy, I don't know why you tell that."

Now your little girl is back to a silly voice in questioning.

"Yeah, Daddy. Why did you say all of that? To a little baby girl?"

"...I didn't - Daddy didn't mean..."

Roman's voice fades and breaks.

Well, you've gotten him small this way. You sigh and stand up, taking your daughter with you. You don't think it'll bode well if you try to leave her by skin.

"Jesu-!"

"You love a good nipple pinch."

Roman rubs his nipple with a scrunched face.

"It's my sorry. I'm sorry, Rome - it was a joke. I don't even have any plans. I just wanted to see how much babysitting would fuck with you. And it fucked with you."

And not pinching the other nipple is his punishment.

You hear a little mm on your shoulder. You kiss your daughter's cheek.

"Sorry, baby."

"She's a smart baby, she understands now. No suicide talk, at least.

"...Sorry." Roman just looks to his shirt. You think it's because he can't look to you. "That was like...mean. She's my baby."

"I know. That's why it's a joke. I'm gonna be in the room. Come with your own sorry."

You're almost asleep with your baby in your arms when Roman comes. You don't know he's been swallowing the sickness down while staring into the threads of the couch. Cause he's just the worst fucking Daddy who can't take a joke. That's him. He's a cute, smart sort of guy that everyone should want with the one person he wants being a super hot Mommy-lady. His best friend. But he's also fucking stupid. He should die, maybe?

Roman scratches a digging sort of scratch at the image of his daughter in her almost tears, confused and reaching for her mommy.

He needs a kiss. He needs a kiss right now or he'll die. It feels like it. He can't breathe, stupidly.

Roman comes into the room and monkey cuddles you from behind. He manages to play with her hair. Her asleep, mouth slightly parted like her father when you watch him sleep.

"We'll go to the Hamptons and we can give facials there. Make them creamy. But it's all of us that are going. And you can't leave me. Like. Actually. Not out of my sight. You won't be able to perceive anything but me and our daughter and that means no stupid ideas.

"Roman."

"She's asleep. Also...sorry for being the worst Daddy. I really did mean for my quip to end up putting our baby in tears."

You sigh.

You know he's suffered enough. He's real in his insecurity.

You kiss his forearm and you hear a sharp breath from behind, it moves against your spine.

"You're the best Daddy. It was nothing. She'll make you play floaties with her forever in the pool."

"...Fuck yeah. She will do that. Hopefully, if, you know, I didn't slap trauma on her face at my attempt at humor against a toddler-"

"Roman."

It's not his name that shuts him up, it's just bite to his forearm. It's all the love in your teeth.

"Yeah?"

"We love you."

"I was hoping on that for my will to not throw myself over the timber Brooklyn bridge..."

You feel his cheek press into your back.

"I love you guys too. Tell her I said that if I fall asleep before she wakes up."

You smile against Roman's bitemark. You'll try your best. It's the least you can do after your mess of a joke. Your love in making more small and needy for you after everything never outranks the need for him to know that he is loved.

Roman nuzzles before there's a lick.

"Can do."

#inbox #hc's #drabble #dog and bone!au #roman roy x reader #succession fanfiction

[ysabelmystic]

My friends and I are rewatching a bunch of Christian films from my childhood and we completed the original Left Behind trilogy the other day. Here were my observations

I do think it's funny that the plot essentially begins with GMOs. GMOs are bad because more people being fed means world peace and globalism. That is bad.

"I'm Buck Williams and I'm standing in a wheat field" is now doomed to be repeated within my friend group for at least the next two years.

The antichrist's name is Nikolai Carpathia. He has the accent of a guy mimicking a Russian accent. This feels on par with JK Rowling naming her one Asian character "Cho Chang".

The character names also include (aside from the aforementioned antichrist and Kirk Cameron's character) Rayford Steele, Chloe, and Patty. Somehow it has the aura of a porno.

Despite the only demographic to be exclusively raptured is children under the age of 10, this fact is pretty much ignored.

Kirk Cameron's character (Buck) confronts police officers who are shooting at looters and teenagers for lacking compassion. By today's standards, this is woke propaganda.

I'm pretty sure the prior thing is to show that Buck is a good and pure soul who just needs to read a Bible to be fully redeemed because how else can you have a non-Christian protagonist in a movie like this. Or maybe this is to show that he's misguided and worldly. However, despite being a hot, sexy, prolific journalist, the movie also points out that he is a virgin.

The alleged romantic tension between Buck and pilot-not-porn-star Rayford Steele's daughter is painful to watch because Kirk Cameron will not kiss anyone other than his wife. There's a lot of awkward side hugs and leaving room for Jesus. Given that they end up getting married later, this is amusing to me.

These movies really want you to know two things: World Peace Is Bad, and Jews Are Bad. There are direct plot points specifically about converting Jewish people to Christianity so that they cannot usher in the rule of the antichrist.

I think it's really funny that, despite TV and the internet existing during the time this series takes place, the connection between the rapture prophecies/fanfics and The Fucking Rapture is only discovered by our protagonists and a handful of other random guys. I think a mass disappearance of certain branches of Christianity and children would provoke some kind of doubt and curiosity, but no. That's bad for plot. Instead, the whole world goes straight to "y'know what? Let's just get rid of all religion at once. Forever." This is because all other religions are made from faithless heathens who just really hate Christians, and since there are no longer Christians, they no longer have to Do Religion. I guess.

I also think it's funny that the main characters, though they themselves were convinced to convert because of the rapture, do not use the rapture as a means to convert the masses. They jump straight to bunker church and secret Bible brigades. When they do successfully convert others, it is either by trotting out the tired, "YOU THINK THIS WORLD WAS AN ACCIDENT???" Case for Christ nonsense, or basically threatening their victim with damnation.

Case in point, Rayford Steele talks a guy out of suicide by reminding him that he will never see his wife and child again if he goes through with it. Suicide = Straight To Hell.

There's a scene where the antichrist like... tries to "test" Rayford Steele by revealing his uber spoopy ghost face and seeing if he reacts. Because I guess the uber spoopy ghost face only works on believers. Te uber spoopy ghost face is his figure showing up in infrared, then his face stretching out cartoonishly, and his eyes turning black. This scared me as a child. It is the second funniest part of the movie.

Also, the title of the second movie being "Left Behind: Tribulation Force" is giving big "Electric Boogaloo" energy.

The antichrist reveals of the evil Global Community organization to the protagonists by handing them a piece of loose leaf printer paper with a logo that I would've made in the computer lab in 2005. This is done to the tune of sinister and dramatic music. This is the funniest part of the movie.

The third movie begins with the introduction of The President. It was previously stated that the president had been raptured. There was no mention of presidents up until this point. I know the line of succession exits but it really felt like they just forgot.

Oh yeah...the Pope was also raptured because he was secretly protestant.

Buck marries Rayford Steele's daughter at the same time Rayford Steele marries a random blonde lady. It feels weird and icky, which is furthered by the fact that the now married daughter will henceforth be referred to as "our girl" by both of these men for the rest of the movie.

We also had to stop the movie several times due most of the female cast consisting of skinny white blonde ladies. We could not tell the difference between any of them except for by their eyeliner. If she wears dark eyeliner, she's a whore.

Due to the plot involving the release of a virus that mainly only affects Christians, this film was definitely the most fun to dissect.

The virus is stored in badly CGId glowy green goo bottles, which for a series that has tried very hard to be serious, was awfully cartoony.

This movie does not give a fuck about the protagonists. This movie is about the president. I'm pretty sure this is because the protagonists, who are Christian, are no longer allowed to commit murder. The president is not a Christian, so he gets to use a gun.

The president has random warehouses to do casual interrogations in wherever and whenever he wants. It is clear that the creators were really struggling to make due with the set.

We know the antichrist is bad because he wants to take everyone's nukes. The president's main goal in this movie is to keep the nukes.

Back in the side plot, it turns out that the Christians are getting infected with green goo disease because the antichrist hid it in their Bibles. As the protagonists drown in guilt, the suspense of the plot really starts to fall apart. Their entire goal is to Get More People Into Heaven, and in this series, reading the Bible will automatically make anyone a Christian (the Bible's words cannot be resisted). If anything, they just fast-tracked a bunch of people into heaven, and they no longer have to endure the next seven years of apocalypse.

We should've all watched these movie pre-COVID. The only person who wears a mask and gloves is the antichrist. The protagonists also mention avoiding vaccines and relying on God/sacrificing themselves instead. This movie predicted 2020.

The super advanced green goo virus has an instacure antidote. Fucking red wine. This seems like a helluva lot of oversight to hand the "drinks red wine as part of religious rituals" group a virus that can be instacured by red wine.

WW3 starts. Somehow, this does not cause a nuclear winter.

The antichrist discovers that he can force-choke people.

The president suicide-bombs the antichrist's tower in order to "slow him down". Given that the antichrist cannot be killed and cell phones exist, I have no idea what exactly that was supposed to do.

As someone who grew up fully believing that Obama was the antichrist and Muslim (which is conservative for "literally a member of Al-Queda/ISIS").... and Black but they didn't say that part out loud), it was interesting in retrospect to watch this movie unfold. The president in this movie is a Black, non-Christian man who is initially for world peace, but then converts to Christianity and suicide-bombs the antichrist. We all have different interpretations of this, but we do agree that they would not have made that specific set of choices today. That said, my interpretation is the correct one /hj

#left behind #the rapture #exvangelical #fundiesnark #fundie snark #conservative christians #kirk cameron #religious right

[morally-grey-girlbosses]

The top two characters will be eligible to proceed into the bracket!

Propaganda under the cut.

Dahlia Hawthorne:

did a lot of murders and poisonings but they deserved it imo so she’s ok

She has committed so many crimes. And in an outfit that wouldn’t look out of place on Barbie at that. She’s the DEFINITION of girlboss, and she can poison me any time.

Aura Blackquill:

her brother got framed for the murder of her wife and she became bitter and evil because of it. this led to her holding an entire space center full of people hostage to get him a retrial

So she may have a robot army to take a couple people hostage, and blamed an 11 year old child for killing their own mom (who was her work partner and maybe sort of girlfriend), but in her defense her brother was about to be executed for a murder he did not commit and there was definitely some evidence that pointed towards the 11 year old being the culprit. So what else was she supposed to do? Just sit by while another important person to her is taken away and the real killer gets to go free? She tried to do things right and go through the police but that didn't work, and sometimes when you run out of options and run out of time you have to use unconventional methods. And in the end it worked and the execution was cancelled and the real killer was found (it wasn't actually the 11 year old child, now 18, but that's beside the point), so in the end things were ultimately better as a result of her actions so you can't exactly say she shouldn't have done it. So she did some things wrong but they are also understandable. I don't think she's a bad person deep down, she just got screwed over by the broken justice system.

Kidnapped a bunch of people but it was like. So the courts would do a retrial for her brother because she believed he was innocent (he was) a day before his execution, and so who she believed the true killer was (she wasn't) would take his place (she didn't) Also a lesbian <3

Franziska von Karma was submitted without propaganda, but I know AA well enough to attempt to write my own. She is obsessed with the idea of crafting the "perfect case" and goes so far as to hide evidence, manipulate witnesses, and also physically assault everyone with a whip in order to achieve it. However she was only doing it to avenge her adopted brother and at the end of the game she comes around and ends up delivering the crucial piece of evidence to save the protagonist's assistant from being killed by an assassin.

Dee Vasquez was submitted without propaganda. My attempt: She has ties to the yakuza and blackmailed one of the actors at her studio into basically being a slave to her. When he gets fed up and ends up trying to kill her she kills him in self-defense, making her one of the few "true culprits" in the series who would actually be found not guilty in an IRL court of law.

Ini/Mimi Miney was submitted without propaganda. My attempt: She was overworked to the point that she accidentally killed about a dozen people by switching their meds while sleep-deprived, then felt so bad about it that she got into a car crash, stole her sister's identity, and pretended she was dead for years. Then she killed a guy because she was worried about him revealing her secret.

Jezaille Brett / Assa Shinn:

prime example of god forbid women do anything. like cmon she just killed a bunch of people and left no trail behind so masterfully she up and haunted the entire goddamn narrative. her name is mentioned in secret messages in streets in papers in fear in mystery and we don't know her motivations still; why does she do what she does we do not know, and will never find out. fucking girlboss she's there for one case then the next we see her she's dead. what is up with this woman and why is she so important despite not seeming so ever.

Olive Green:

She qualifies as after her fiancé died from gas inhalation, she had questions about his death and suspected one of his fellow tenants to have murdered him rather than it being an accident. She consequently attempted to murder him. She rocks because we have to stan a vengeful woman!!!!!

Iris Hawthorne / Sister Iris Hazakurain / Sister Iris of Hazakura Temple:

well she’s more morally ambiguous than her sister!!!! she covered up a lot of crimes and lied about her identity to her (long series of hand gestures to indicate how complicated the boyfriend status is) Sorta Boyfriend for. like nine months i think. and she would have gotten away with it too if not for her co-conspirators fucking everything up

#poll #tournament poll #qualifiers #ace attorney #this round is killing me #i love ace attorney #why would we pit eight bad bitches against each other like this 😭 #the great ace attorney chronicles #the great ace attorney #tgaac #tgaa #dahlie hawthorne #aura blackquill #franziska von karma #dee vasquez #ini miney #mimi miney #jezaille brett #assa shinn #olive green #iris hawthorne #iris hazakurain #iris of hazakura temple

[cryptwrites]

i wrote this for a creative writing class so now you can have it. also my professor DOES know my tumblr. hi

CW:

To start off, the story - no the account - I am about to tell you is in no way a confession of guilt or a weight off my conscience but I need to know I'm not crazy or-or alone. I have to tell someone what happened at the Porter house..

The Porters live in a classic two story house just on the other side of town. They have… had two small children, Whitney and Jackson. Their lives were normal? I suppose? As average as they could get there.

Mr. Porter was a bastard of a man. He had rotting anger inside of him that he had slowly let consume over the past few years. Now, he never showed his anger, not to his wife and not to his kids but Mrs. Porter knew, and if she knew, the children knew. Eggshells were always walked on around their father, you could tell those kids did not fear him but certainly did fear what he could do if he ever stopped muzzling his anger.

I don't know if they ever saw, but I suppose they must have… sometimes when I would go out to get the morning paper or just to get a breath of air I could see him. Just staring. Not at anyone or anything in particular anytime, no. The subject of his gaze shifted with every day that I saw this, sometimes it was his wife… other times it was his kids. Sometimes it was a squirrel and once… it was me. He would stare with an unbroken gaze for minutes (hours?) at a time. Nothing would even happen for him to go back to normal, he just… did. Carried on like nothing else happened.

I’m not the only one who could feel it. This… off feeling to Mr. Porter and his house. You walked by and you felt depressed. Even without knowing what they were like, the house was sad. I bought my house at a lower price than anything on the market because the realtor couldn't sell it no matter what they did. I wasn't thrilled about this gloomy aura that followed me around the block but… I’m a college student who couldn't afford anything else.

Anyways, Mrs Porter was a fine woman, she was friendly but she was sad. But one day, Mrs Porter discovered she was pregnant. All the neighbors got these little flyers taped to their door announcing it. I didn't even know they were wanting a third child. Could they even afford it? Regardless, Mr. Porter began working on the nursery. He worked on this damn room day and night. I live on the other side of the street and I couldn't sleep at night from all the hammering.

Mrs. Porter started to show up less though. I thought that maybe the pregnancy was getting the better of her. I mean, she was an older woman, and the pregnancy might have just been a little harder on her now. But days turned to weeks, and weeks turned to months. That damn nursery still hadn't been finished and Mrs Porter was nowhere to be seen. The hammering now just had become a customary part of life, something I only noticed when I was trying to work or study. Other than that, it blended it with the other mundane sounds of life.

It was only at my neighbor's barbeque - Cher. A sweet guy who I honestly have considered asking out two or three times. Anyways at this barbeque I mentioned the Porters and how if he knew anything about the nursery or has heard anything from Mrs Porter. Cher gave me… this weird look. Half way between concern and pity. He asked if I had been sleeping well. I laughed at this and said “Obviously I haven't been sleeping well. There’s a man hammering together a room throughout the night.” Cher didn’t laugh though. He told me I should go talk to them and then wrote down the number to his psychiatrist. Pleasant.

I didn't think much of it, Cher lived two houses down, I mean, maybe he just didn't hear the incessant hammering throughout the night like I did. But I did take up his advice, so I went over to Porter's house the next day. Now, I don't know why but knocking on that door made me more anxious than I had felt in a while. Every knock took a considerable amount of effort but eventually, someone answered.

It was little Whitney. I asked her where her mother and father were. She looked at me confused, so I asked if I could speak with her father. She shook her head and went to get him. Waiting there, at that house, it felt like I was being watched. I mean neighborhoods like that tend to be very nosy so maybe I was being watched - but this, this felt wrong.

Eventually, Mr. Porter came to the door. He was wearing the exact same clothes he had been wearing the last time I saw him. I asked him how he was, how the nursery was coming along and how Mrs. Porter was. He gave me fairly generic answers of courtesy but paused when I asked about his wife. He offered to go and get her. I told him it was not a problem if she was in too much pain to walk. He laughed at this. Told me “We only just found out a few days ago. She’s more than fine to walk.” he walked away with that - presumably to get his wife - but he left the door wide open. I just stood there… had it really only been a few days? That can't be right. I had gone through an entire semester's worth of classes by this point, there was no way it had just been a few days.

Mr. Porter eventually came back and asked to borrow my phone, noting that his had died. I didn't even think about what he was asking before my phone was in his hand. He dialed a number - I, I don't know what the number is. I’ve tried calling it numerous times, but it just goes to a deadline. - he spoke on the phone for a little bit, giving his address and the name of his wife before handing the phone back to me. I asked him what it was. He said he had called the police. I asked him why. “Ms. Porter isn't here.” he said. He went back into his house without a word being said. He told his children what had happened. They both just looked at him. Whitney and Jackson did not cry. I don't know if they were just too shocked to cry or if they just… didn't. I just stood there, looking into this house and… I could swear I heard the hammering start again. Eventually the police arrived, they questioned Mr. Porter who didn't really have much to give, they talked to the kids, who were quiet. And they talked to me, who was as helpful as I could be with my now warped perception of time.

“He’s been in the house. With the children.” I told the officer. I think about it now, and I don't think in those days… months? That I ever saw him or any of his family leave his house. Not that I was looking too closely but I hadn't seen anything. The police couldn't find anything or any evidence of a crime and so they left. Mr. Porter and his children reverted back into the house, still leaving the door open. I don’t know how long I stood there, just staring into this house but I know that by the time I turned to go home it was fully dark. The hammering did stop that night, I could see them all around the dinner table silently eating. Once that was done, he led his children to bed and then went to his own.

I woke up the next day and went back over to the house - I don't know why? I just felt like maybe I owed something to the poor man. I knocked on his door, Mr. Porter answered. I asked him how he was, if there was anything I could do to help and if the children were at school. He paused at this last question again, stating that the children were on the porch. Playing. I pointed out to him that young Whitney and Jackson were nowhere on or near the porch. Mr. Porter could not say where they were. He expressed utter confusion. He once again asked for my phone, I once again gave it to him. The police did not believe him this time and arrested him. But they were forced to let him go as there was no evidence of his involvement, and was brought back home.

The neighbors avoided him, but they had always avoided him. The police would make periodic checks on the poor man but all he would do is work on that damn nursery. The hammering became louder and more violent. One evening, after several weeks of this, I walked over again. I wanted to check on him I guess. I knocked on the door, he answered. Looking the exact same he had the last two times. He greeted me, and welcomed me to his home. I hesitated, but eventually walked him. He offered me a cup of coffee, which I accepted and he offered to show me the house. I didn't really want a tour of the gloomy house I found myself in, but my mouth had other plans and agreed.

He showed me around and I soon learned that Mr. Porter no longer went to work. He did not make breakfast or dinner, he did not sleep. He just worked in the nursery. They were always a strange family, and he was always a strange man and something strange was bound to happen to them eventually, but this was not strange. This was sickeningly ordinary. Not for your whole family to go missing. That's not ordinary, but for this family, it seemed like the most ordinary tragedy that could have happened.

Eventually, we got to the nursery. I opened the door. It was heavy and hard to open, but eventually it moved. I stepped inside and everything about this nursery was bright. It was ordinary. It didn't have the gloomy feeling the rest of the house had. I stood there, looking at it for a second before turning back to Mr. Porter, but there was no Mr. Porter to look back too. I searched the whole house, calling out his name and there was no trace of Mr. Porter. So, like he had done many times before, I opened my phone and called 911. When the police got there, I told them my story and showed them the nursery. But when I opened the door to it, there was no longer a nursery. Just an old spare guest room.

Evidence was searched for, and evidence was not found. The Porter house stands empty, with all of the family’s things still inside – furniture and clothing. Even the food, rotting in the refrigerator. The Police arrested me, thinking maybe I had hurt the entire family, but of course could never nail me for anything because I didn't do anything.

This is not a confession. This is not a plea. I do not know what happened in the Porter house but I know that what happened was far from ordinary and much too ordinary. Something is wrong with that house. Something. Is in that house. I fear that something is in my house. If there was anything to be learned from this, I… refuse to learn it.

#writing #creative writing #writer #writers on tumblr #they/them #writerscorner #writers #horror #writers tips #poetry

[gabessquishytum]

Okay, so more thoughts on trophy husband!Hob because everyone here are wonderful enablers.

Hob wanting to do a photoshoot with some cool clothes he found at charity and vintage shops (sure he could pay a designer to hand stitch him something now, but thrifting is about the hunt. Besides it's fun to put on his "just some guy" aura and go out among normal people.) and Dream being super normal about anything Hob mentions wanting books out a whole ass historic manor for a day. Hob is used to filming and photographing himself and keeps to it now that it is all for fun and not his main source of income, so it is just the two of them. Dream may have also become obsessed with taking photos of Hob and bought the phone with the best possible camera after he tried taking Hob’s picture the first time and didn't manage to fully capture Hob's beauty. The fancy camera didn't help Dream's skills at all, but the thousands of photos he's taken since then certainly have.

The last photos of the day are of Hob's prized finds and have him dressed up in a lacy negligee slip covered by a diaphanous robe with billowing sleeves and an even wider skirt all trimmed in feathers. The kind that an old school Hollywood starlet playing a bereaved wife would wear when assuring the officer that she just didn't know anyone who would wish her husband ill, and she'll just have to go cry in the piles of money he left behind about it. The color of the robe is rich in the fading light of the sunset and beautiful against Hob's skin, contrasting well against the wooden banister he is leaning languorously against.

The photo is taken from the bottom of the staircase looking adoringly up at Hob who has his hand brought up to his mouth as if caught mid gasp, his wedding ring smeared with blood red lipstick from where it rests against the plush of his bottom lip. Hob would have pulled the shocked expression off, if it wasn't for the ravenous look in his eyes as he stared down at the photographer.

When Hob posts the photo up on social media the conservative press goes wild saying it's a clear sign that Hob is planning to kill Dream off for his fortune, they wonder if it would be admissible evidence in court if Dream were to meet an untimely end. Anyone else with two brain cells to squeak together know that the look Hob was giving means that the only way he is killing Dream is accidentally from heart failure mid-fuck. It becomes a bit of a meme to tweet at Dream to keep up with his cardio. Hob can't stop laughing every time he sees it.

Of course, Hob and Dream took full advantage of having the manor all to themselves. They might not have been able to fuck on the historic furniture, but the kitchen counters were sturdy enough. While all that marble was a bit uncomfortable it made an appropriate enough altar on which to worship each other.

-💥

Skskdkfjfjg everyone thinking that Hob is some kind of femme fatale when he’s actually THE most devoted spouse in the world?? Hilarious. You just know that he plays up to his meme and changes his bio to “looking for my second husband” or something djdjdjf.

During the photoshoot they’re totally doing a little elaborate model x photographer roleplay. Hob is making Dream work hard to seduce him, making sure that the photos are perfect and that Dream is absolutely at the end of his rope before Hob finally allows him to touch. They fall on top of each other and fuck on the floor in the hallway, knowing that potentially anyone could walk in and find them there. Dream takes a minute to take a few private pictures, just for his own future enjoyment. Hob looks absolutely perfect spread out on an antique floor rug, his legs wide and inviting Dream in between them. Dream has to pay an extra cleaning fee to the owners of the house, but he can afford it and frankly, he doesn’t give a shit. He even offers to buy the manor, just in case Hob wants to come back for a second shoot.

When the (fully dressed, public-friendly) photos come out on Hob’s social media, no one can fail to see the fresh indentations of Dream’s teeth on his throat. Hob scolds him for it, but Dream couldn’t help but lay a proper claim on his husband. If people are going to be able to see his beloved in his beautiful clothes, then Dream wants to make damned sure that nobody gets any ideas about who he belongs to.

(Hob retaliates by finishing off the photo set with one of Dream in the middle of getting re-dressed, his back to the camera and his t-shirt halfway over his head. He’s all about showing off his husband, as well as his husband’s money <3)

#💥 anon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft

[marinerainbow]

The FNAF fan song 'Creepin' Towards the Door' gave me this idea.

Five Nights at Roger Rabbit's Toontown AU

(Please note; I know NOTHING about Fnaf, nor do I plan to go into the series. All I know is that it's got neat character design, something spooky happening, and they're all animatronics. So I apologize if I get lore wrong)

Summary

Set in the 80's, a huge, cartoon themed restaurant was opened, under the name Roger Rabbit's Toontown. By the towns mysterious judge, Mr. Doom no less. Nobody could fathom why a normal man of law would establish such a business, let alone a man like Doom who's attire alone looked like he was ready for a funeral any minute. Especially a funeral he was the cause of.

Nevertheless, Mr. Doom's new gig quickly became quite popular among children and families. From the colorful visuals, the cute and witty cast of oddly advanced animatronic characters. It even brought in more tourists for the town! Which of course, made Doom an even bigger presence in the community than before.

However, no one ever stopped to wonder; how are these robots so advanced for the time? Why did the cruel judge even think about going into the family friendly business? And how do the toony characters seem so... Life like?

No one cared to question it. Neither did Eddie Valient, the new and desperate security guard hired for the night watch. But he's going to see exactly what these animatronics get up to when the curtain draws close...

The Restaurant

Judge Doom is an old soul. Which is a nice way of saying that he's a stuffy, old-fashioned man. And the decor of the place shows his taste. Despite the more toony and child friendly theme, it is definitely a homage to the early 1900s. It even makes history fun! Children can find plenty of interactive attractions around the place that will tell them interesting facts, such as how the first animated cartoon was made in 1908.

The size of the place is also clearly meant to make sure that the 'town' part of the establishments title was not to be taken lightly. Large enough to be considered a mansion, with one huge stage in the center and circled by the countless tables (think Dolly Parton's restaurant Stampede, as seen below), not to mention all of the secret passage ways and vents that allow the cast and staff to either navigate the restaurant without disturbing the show, or quickly make their way to the audience to interact with them and make them a part of the stageplay! Which, each play is on par with your favorite Saturday morning cartoons; wacky, zany, and just a hint of adult humor for the parents.

Eddie and whoever else might be on night watch with him will have quite the hassle keeping track of all the animatronics, when they know the place inside and out...

The Cast

The Humans

Judge Doom: The owner of this fine establishment. A mysterious man with a dark aura. Rumors say that going into the family entertainment business is him trying to turn over a new leaf... Though others believe that the family fun is an attempt to hide something far more sinister...

Eddie Valient: a down on his luck man who just needs something after the untimely and mysterious death of his brother. He can't keep asking his girlfriend for help, he knows she has her own bills to pay- not to mention he already owes her so much. He needs this job, even if those animatronics are freaky...

The Good Guys

Roger Rabbit: The main protagonist and mascot of the restaurant. This cute little rabbit just adores his beautiful wife, loves all of his friends, and offers a helping hand to those in need! Even if those mischievous weasels are out and about... Though sometimes, even heros need someone to save them...

Jessica Rabbit: The wife and secondary protagonist of the restaurant. Although her design is meant to appeal to the more mature members of the audience, she is always right beside her honey bunny and ready to step in when the weasels go too far...

Baby Herman: Oddly, the only humanoid animatronic in the whole establishment- next to Jessica that is. His role on stage is a sort of 'oblivious side plot'; Roger is almost always, for some reason, taking care of the baby and has to keep him out of trouble. Though when everyone goes home, this baby proves just how much of a loud mouthed brat he can be... It's odd how a child character would have such a crass soul deep down, no?

Benny the Cab: Taking the role of Roger's side kick and vehicle, this cab is part of the reason why the restaurant is so huge; to make room for such a huge animatronic, especially one made for chase scenes! Despite being a car, he almost seems a bit human... Though the same could be said for all the other animatronics too.

The Bad Guys

Smartassguy Weasel: The big bad of the whole cast. As the leader of the giggling pack of weasels, he's the one behind most of the nefarious plots against Roger Rabbit's Toontown. Mean, egotistical, and a cutthroat attitude to boot. You don't want to get on his bad side, as Eddie will find out soon enough...

Greasy Weasel: Smarty's perverted right-hand man. With an oily personality, a swift hand, and eyes on Mrs. Rabbit herself, it's a wonder Doom allowed this character to be made for a children's establishment... They should see what he's like when the lights go out.

Wheezy Weasel: This weasel is believed to be the Judges way of teaching children to say no to cigarettes. Quiet, intimidating, and with his glowing red hued eyes, it's odd how Wheezy wasn't chosen as the main villain for the cast...

Psycho Weasel: This animatronic has seemed to take it upon himself to bring a whole new meaning to 'interactive storytelling' in the grimmest sense. Psycho will often pop up out of nowhere and scare unsuspecting patrons, and the few times he speaks is always something... Sinister... Why Doom would think a character this morbid would be fit for family-friendly entertainment is anybodies guess.

Stupid Weasel: The only villain animatronic who seems to fit in the toony theme of the establishment the best. A big dumb brute, who just follows orders. His childish antics shine a more light-hearted light on the rest of his gang, but also make him stick out like a sore thumb... It's almost like he's not where he's supposed to be...

Will the nightguard be able to survive all five nights in Toontown? What do you think?

#WFRR #Who Framed Roger Rabbit #WFRR AU #FnaF #Disney #Disney Villains #Disney Heros #Roger Rabbit #Eddie Valient #Baby Herman #Benny the Cab #Jessica Rabbit #Judge Doom #Toon Patrol #Smartass Weasel #Stupid Weasel #Wheezy Weasel #Psycho Weasel #Greasy Weasel #horror #(just in case) #Five Nights at Roger Rabbit's Toontown AU

[kindheart525]

Obsidian and River are best of best friends (like us <3) what are some other best friend pairs either in the auraverse or thirdverse

I’m so glad you asked this bestie ❤️ There are a number of best friend pairs in the Auraverse especially, some which I’ve explored before but others that I’m very excited to introduce to you all hopefully in the coming year! There are plenty of pairings that start out as best friends and later become lovers (Seaweed and Shamrock, Tea/Violet/Rosie, etc.) but for this I’ll focus on the purely platonic pairs. Which include:

Iolite and Aurora Borealis, who have supported each other through a lot of emotionally difficult times, of which I still have plenty more to show you all

Yngvlid and Polished Antique, one of her first friends in Equestria who she’s still very much in touch with

Erudite Spell and Swift Valor, but especially when they were kids before their lives and careers got in the way of them hanging out more often

River Morganite and Obsidian, who you’ve already mentioned but I felt I should still add to the list. Fashion besties since fillyhood, and their kids are close too!

River Morganite, Stockholm, and Yngvlid, since both gals are fellow fashion lovers who have helped River with so much of her activism and helped her through some pretty rough periods. Stockholm has the extra benefit of being her future sister-in-law!

Brazen Plumage and Tea Cake, though their friendship is more like a big sister and little sister!

Cheddar Changa and Plum Pastry, who are not only best friends but career partners—since before they even had a career

Astor Anomaly, Prophecy, and Milkweed, our resident witch trio ✨

Milkweed and Bumblebee, who grew up together as offspring of the Pillars but have genuinely bonded over their mutual love of herbs and other life forms of the natural world

Astor Anomaly and Blue Velvet, two friends who confide in each other even when they feel they can’t talk to anyone else

Red Cedar and Marmalade Meringue, two toxic mommy friends who met over budding interdimensional communication technology

Ravenclaw, Meteor Shower, and Bullseye, who played as a trio a lot as kids but are still bonded in a variety of ways! The twins have obviously been close since the womb, while Raven gets to bond with Bullseye over their insecurities and with Meteor over their common masculine interests

Slumber Party and Witch Hazel, who grew up in the orphanage together and were more than overjoyed to connect later in life

Sahar and Ginger Root AKA Diya, her mare-in-waiting but also her closest confidant (aside from her own wife after they finally became close)

Summer Beauty and Crash Racket but…their friendship isn’t something one should strive for

As you can see, some characters have multiple best friends! Each friendship is just so different that it’s sometimes impossible to rank one as significantly “better” than all the others.

Some other notable friend pairs include:

Stockholm and Triple Threat, who are cousins-in-law but also have a lot to bond over beyond that connection. They not only have a mutual love of theater and fashion, but are also each other’s biggest supporters as each of them birth and raise some extra magical quadruplets!

Triple Threat and her Old Lady Squad, who aren’t “best friends” to her in the same manner that a friend her age would be, but are very close mentors who mean just as much to her

Bumblebee and Astor Anomaly, another pair of Pillar offspring who have less in common when it comes to personality but are still there for each other whenever they need it most

There are also some friend pairs, some of which you know about and some of which you have yet to see, that are sadly doomed to not last

Stockholm and Saltwater Taffy

Flurry Heart, Blueberry Sticks, and Red Cedar (even though they never really liked each other)

Trailblazer and most of her wrestling team guys

Aura and ??? (not just the Toxic Quad)

Blueberry Sticks and ???

Plus there are plenty of other Auraverse bestie pairs I’m excited to show you, like Stockholm and Erudite Spell, and Indigo Sprint and a new character named Electric Dawn!

As for the Thirdverse, I have fewer friend pairs established both because the cast is smaller and because so much of the story is family-focused. But I do have a few planned, like Sunny Sweet Dreams and Candied Apple, who met through a peer mentoring program, and Laffy Taffy and her friend group. I have a few ideas for other characters who could have best friends, but I’m still planning things out!

#AskKind #auraverse #thirdverse #next generation #my little pony #mlp fim #mlp g4 #asks open #send asks #send me asks #ask me stuff #ask me things #ask me anything

[godsofhumanity]

Do you have any headcanons of Nyx's kids for a starving mutual? 🙏🙏🙏

goshh i don't really think that much about them except for Styx and Thanatos T-T

looking through my tag though,, i actually haven't written my hc's for Styx, just briefly in Pallas' section of my younger titans hc post :o

anyways. i know u were probably hoping for something like Hypnos and the gang,, but my brain is numb so i hope this suffices:

STYX

i know that the usual tradition is that Styx is a daughter of Oceanus and Tethys, but personally, i think it makes more sense for her to be a daughter of Nyx and Erebus because she's a river running through the underworld which, as we all know, is the home for pretty much all of Nyx's family.

also, Oceanus already has like 3000+ kids so it's not a big deal hahhahaha

anyhow, i think Styx is mostly a very serious goddess. it's not like she's grumpy or anything, but she's a realist.

she knows how to laugh, and she can take a joke-- whether she's on the dishing end or receiving end.

but most of the time, she's very sensible and proper. i think this makes sense because she's the one who oaths are sworn upon. her name is invoked only in the most sacred of times,, so there should be an aura of regality and seriousness about her.

i like the idea that pretty much all of Nyx's kids are tough, and pretty good in a fight-- most of Nyx's children represent the tougher aspects of life (strife, pain, death, etc.), and even though Styx herself isn't primarily a fighter, i think her being a warrior-type reinforces the idea that she's unrelenting; as an oath should be.

now, i don't think any of the other rivers are given any spouses, but Styx is mostly said to be the wife of Pallas (son of the titan Crius, and Gaia's daughter Eurybia by Pontus), and i don't have any issues with that pairing.

i feel that Pallas has a very similar personality to Styx, so they get along really well.

as a pairing, i think they'd be one of the older couples in the second gen. titan group, and kind of like the "parents", the Oceanus & Tethys, of the younger titans.

in some accounts, Styx and Zeus have an intimate relationship, but my version of Styx i think is wayy too sensible for Zeus. i think that by the time Zeus was ready to take on the throne, she'd have already been married to Pallas for sometime. and since she's the oathkeeper, it doesn't make sense that she'd cheat.

nevertheless, i do think that Styx would have been pretty keen to support Zeus against Kronos, and that's why Zeus had a lot of respect for her and rewarded her kindly (as he did for all the titans who helped) by giving her such an important role in his kingdom.. though i also feel he may have done that to win points with Nyx (he's a king- everything's political).

one last note- relating to my comparison of Styx and Pallas with Tethys and Oceanus, i really love the idea of Styx being one of the goddesses to have been part of the whole Prometheus-Zeus falling-out.

specifically, i think that after Prometheus got chained to the mountain, Styx was the one who was with Hesione (Prometheus' wife) and Deucalion, and that she opened her home to Hesione..

being a daughter of Nyx, i think Styx and Pallas live in the Underworld, and since the Underworld is part of Hades' domain and not Zeus', i think it's important that Hesione would stay in a place far from Zeus, and in a safe place. but i don't want to go on a tangent and start talking about Hesione so ill leave it there😊

THANATOS

ok, i've actually talked about Thanatos loads: hc #1, hc #2 but he's kind of awesome so i'll talk a little more :-)))

i've said time and time again that Thanatos is THE funny guy around the Underworld. i just can't imagine anybody else. he's a riot to be around.

this is important to me because, while i do think of him as some sort of "leader" of the death gods, he is also closely linked with peaceful death. so i think that he would not want to come across as scary and terrifying, but just another guy.

also, i think that him being so jovial emphasises the idea that no one really understands the gift of life as he who takes it away. i mean, he's an immortal, but he witnesses mortal life every day and he knows how fleeting time is.

Hesiod calls Thanatos cold-hearted and hateful, and i do like the idea that the other gods tend to seem him that way,, but those who know him, like Hades and Hermes, have a bit of a different idea of him.

of course, like death, Thanatos is indifferent- he never really cares what others say about him or to him.. he's sort of immovable in that way. you wouldn't be able to anger him very easily.

but he can get angry.. i like the idea of him sort of disliking most of the Olympians. in particular, i think he doesn't like Zeus very much because Zeus is always putting people up in the constellations or letting some heroes get special treatment and becoming gods, etc. and i think Thanatos feels like maybe it should be a little more impartial. of course, Thanatos also believes in order, and as such, i don't think he'd ever betray Zeus.

something not very relevant to this, but a little more relevant to my point about Thanatos being really fun is that i think he calls Hades "the H-Man", or "boss man", or just something really silly ((he says it with utmost respect though!!!))

i think he'd only call Hades "King" about really serious things, but mostly he's really chill, and Hades kinda digs it. it makes him feel cool.

i loveee the idea of Persephone being in the Underworld for the first time and hearing Thanatos call Hades "H-Man" and having no idea whom Thanatos is referring to because Hades is such a stern guy and there's no way he'd let someone call him that lmfaoo

anyways so yeah :-) nothing really new,, but ahaha i hope u enjoyed :)

#greek-mythographer #asks #hc #styx #thanatos

[dulcesiabits]

hihi this is the anon who sent the ask that you answered like an hour ago I'M BACK FOR ROUND TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i spent the entirety of my english class thinking about how lame reo is instead of working on my food justice essay hahahahaha. how horrible this silly little rich kid lives rent free in my head >:[

but ougugufufuuhghoougughhh reader and reo were SO cute how could i NOT rotate them around in my brain instead of looking for peer reviewed sources!! theyre soooooooooo precious 🥹 they're everything to me!!! i dont think i've considered it til now but the filthy rich billionaire spoiled brat x Normalest Person Ever trope has me in a chokehold... reo can just be a normal boy with the reader (until he joins blue lock and gets subjected to.... um. that) they can go on normal people dates!! they can go duck feeding or whatever :')

i love how reader refuses to let reo pay HAHHAHA its a sweet gesture considering how they are so NOT rich but also its a very asian thing LOL (i say this being asian myself) in my head im envisioning them eating at a restaurant or whatever .... and when the bill comes they start fighting over it and they just get the crazy egoist eyes and they start dropping those insane insults like whatever isagi is spewing

i have once been burnt by the hands of wife guys but i will trust reo . just this once. a wifeguy reo is such a terrifying thought like nagi was bad enough. how bad does will it get when reo is not limited by the confines of the narrative and it is a little more socially acceptable for him to display his affections. especially more terrifying when reader seems to enjoy tormenting their siblings at any cost ..... god theyre so cute. im fucking insane. clutches head aaaauauauuaagghh tumblr why cant i submit images anonymously (i know why LOL just complaining) i want to draw them sooo bad....

ALSO ALSO aggggghhhhh your prose is SO good!! i am not nearly eloquent to express my thoughts but your writing is so good and tasty!!!! i eated it. if dulcesiabits has one million fans, im one of them. if dulcesiabits has five fans, im one of them. if dulcesiabits has one fan, that's me. if dulcesiabits has no fans, i am no longer alive. if the world is against dulcesiabits, i am against the world... only user dulcesiabits will have me jumping out of my seat hollering .......

(referencing this fic and this ask)

Welcome back anon!!!! Reo is super cute but please don't forget to work on your classwork too! (I also used to spend a lot of time in class daydreaming about fictional characters so maybe I shouldn't talk, haha)!

Rich guy x normal guy is such a fun trope, I agree!! It's about the contrast... the differing life experiences... I just know Reo is enamored with the concept of instant noodles and similar things!! Gets a real kick out of them and reader is like "WHY." It would be really cute if reader and Reo went on dates to feed animals or to the aquarium or to the zoo actually!!! Reo is the sort of guy to be like "they look like you" and point to a cute rabbit and reader points to. like. an insect or some weird looking fish and goes "they look like you <3"

SHAKES YOUR HAND!! the Asian fight for the bill is so real. I do it all the time with my friends LOL. Reader might joke about how nice it is to have a rich boyfriend, but they also don't want to take advantage of him (or for him to believe they only like him for his cash). I know Reo and reader are scaring everyone else in the restaurant when they argue over the bill.... they have the crazy auras as well as the eyes and start saying things like "your failure against me was decided when you were born" and when they finally agree to split the check, they go back to being cute and in love and it gives everyone whiplash....

Reo is just built different!! I just think he has few people he can genuinely cherish, so he clings very tightly to the ones he can! 100% would give reader the moon if they asked for it!! Nothing is off limits!! His ego is just to spoil his partner fr.... I just think he likes taking care of others (to the point where he will make a ten year plan of your life together) because it's the only way he's been taught how affection works. btw, if you ever end up drawing them, I'd love to see!!! I'm sure you'd draw them super cute <3

ANON UR SO SWEET FOR THIS!!! <3 I'M SO GLAD YOU ENJOY MY WRITING!! If no one else has my back, I know anon has my back!!!! If ur my fan, then I'm ur fan as well!!! <3

#liya answers #this was a really cute ask!! thank u anon haha #i was happy to hear from you again! take care of yourself!

[callmebrycelee]

9-1-1: LONE STAR REACTION

This reaction is for season 4, twelfth episode "Swipe Left '' which originally aired April 11, 2023. The episode was written by Carly Soteras and directed by Steve Danton. Spoiler's ahead!

Hello, friend! Let's chat about the latest episode of Lone Star! Is it just me or is this season firing on all cylinders? Since the season four premiere on up to the latest episode, I have truly been enjoying the wild ride. We kicked things off with TK and Carlos' wedding planning but then things took a turn when it was revealed Carlos is married to Iris Blake. Then Carlos got kidnapped by a serial killer and held captive. Owen stopped a plot to blow up the capitol. Tommy wooed her minister and warred with his daughter. Marjan left the 126 and came back. We also got some much needed backstory on Marjan and Mateo. Oh, and Paul is dating now! Judd and Grace are going to be grandparents courtesy of Wyatt and his girlfriend. Like I said - it's been a wild ride!

In this episode, we get to major storylines involving TK, Carlos, and Marjan. Let's start with the Marjan storyline. We see Marjan at one of her physical therapy sessions. Her physical therapist is played by Natacha Karam's real life partner, John Clarence Stewart. John plays Joe and the chemistry Joe has with Marjan is palpable. However, Marjan needs to be with someone who is also Muslim.

We get a montage of Marjan going on various dates with Muslim men with her teammates accompanying as chaperones. Each guy has some sort of fatal flaw that makes him undesirable in Marjan's eyes however there is one guy that both Marjan and Owen fall in love with. His name is Fauza (Keon Alexander) and he is an animal lover (a plus for Owen) and by all intents and purposes a pretty swell guy. Plus he's very easy on the eyes if you get what i'm saying. 

During an emergency involving a jilted wife who goes to the no tell/motel where her cheating husband is getting his rocks off, Marjan discovers that Fauza is not only married but his wife is super pregnant. Yikes! Looks like Marjan dodged a bullet. A very gorgeous, animal-loving bullet.

While shopping for ingredients she plans on cooking for Paul and his girlfriend, Asha, Marjan runs into Joe in a Middle Eastern supermarket. Paul does a great job of playing wingman and encourages her to talk to him. Marjan has reservations about getting involved with Joe since he is not Muslim but Joe points out that he is Muslim. Just not the Middle Eastern variety. This moment was so funny to me because it's almost like Marjan couldn't fathom Joe (a black man) having the same faith as her. Marjan invites Joe to the dinner and he agrees. I hope we get to see more of these two in future episodes!

Now, let's talk about everyone's favorite ship - Tarlos! TK and Carlos interview four faith leaders in hopes of picking one who will officiate their wedding. Rabbi Finkel (Harvey J. Alperin) is okay with the two of them being gay, however he thinks Carlos should convert to Judaism. Amethyst (Maureen Driscoll) likes the color of both their auras but won't be able to commit to a time and date because time is all relative to her. Reverend Tom (David Grant Wright) is a homophobe and tells TK and Carlos they will be together forever ... in hell. Yikes! Lastly, Pastor Nicole (Briana Lane) appears to be their best option but when she asks them if they want to have kids, both men are surprised by each other's answers.

TK wants to have kids but Carlos doesn't. A part of me was surprised they were this far along in their relationship and neither of them had ever asked the other if they wanted kids or not. Then again, this is also the same couple where one of them was legally married to someone else for most of the relationship. This of course sends our two boys spiraling so they each go to their parents for advice.

Kudos to Owen and Andrea Reyes (Roxana Brusso) for giving some solid advice to their sons. Andrea points out that Carlos has issues with avoidance which is spot on! She believes that Carlos never got around to asking TK if he wanted kids because he knew exactly what his answer would be. TK wonders if Carlos' hesitation to have kids is because he's an addict but Carlos dispels that by saying he believes wholly in TK's recovery. Andrea asks if Carlos is worried the child wouldn't have a mother figure and Carlos says he's worried if he's going to be a good dad. Carlos cites TK's relationship with Owen and how they've always been close but he and his dad are only just getting close. Carlos is afraid he won't measure up. Owen tells TK that any time he's prioritized someone else's needs over his own, things have always worked out for the better. Andrea tells Carlos he needs to be considerate of TK's feelings and he also needs to be honest. Because, at the end of the day, the only thing that matters, or should matter is that TK has Carlos and Carlos has TK. Periodt!

We end the episode at TK and Carlos' apartment. TK cooks dinner and Carlos comes home with a cardboard box. Carlos opens the box and it's a bearded dragon! I guess if they don't have kids, at least they can have a lizard. Carlos tells TK he knows he will be a good father but he's not ready yet and he may not ever get there. TK tells him that's okay. I love this scene. Part of being in love is compromise. 

Oh, and the bearded dragon escaped from the box.

So, this was a fun episode! I loved getting to see a different side of Marjan. We're so used to seeing her be a badass firefighter but this time we got to see the softer side of her. The dating montage was so hilarious. I love that TK, Carlos, Paul, Owen, Nancy, and Mateo served as her chaperones. I liked the different types of guys she encountered. I especially liked her scenes with Joe. One thing I like that both 9-1-1 shows involve the actors' real-life partners and family members into the show. We've seen Jennifer Love Hewitt's husband appear twice on the OG series. Rob Lowe's son John writes for the show and his brother Chad appeared last season as his half-brother. Next episode we will see Sierra McClain's sisters appear as her sisters. 

As for the TK and Carlos scenes. These two have such amazing chemistry and I think that's because Ronen and Rafael are such great friends off-camera. I love how the writers aren't afraid to show them struggle. Relationships aren't perfect. Another thing I like is how mature both parties were when dealing with the children/no children issue. TK doesn't run off and get upset. Carlos didn't shut down. They are getting so much better at communicating and I love to see it! It looks like we're getting closer and closer to the Tarlos wedding! I cannot wait! Until next time ...

#911 lone star reaction #911 lone star reaction 2023 #tv reaction #tv reaction 2023 #blw reactions #blw reactions 2023 #911 lone star #fox 911 lone star #911 ls 4x12 #911 ls s4 #ronen rubinstein #rafael l silva #natacha karam #john clarence stewart #rob lowe #roxana brusso #brian michael smith

[ninthvare]

I know all I do is post, I'm still in that new OC hyperfocus blorbo honeymoon phase where you have a fun new character and you just constantly rotate them in your mind but anyway (friend/)SHIPPING............

He is like a stray cat who meows outside your house. Wants to be your friend but don't scare him

if you're going to do ANYTHING dangerous he will be coming and if you object he'll start listing every single one of his dragonsong war achievements until you relent just so he'll stop doing that. then he'll go SEE?? I'M USEFUL. YOU LOVE BRINGING ME. every time he helps

He likes people who just don't pay much attention to his extremely obvious mental illness and just dismiss it as "he's kinda weird but I like him anyway" and are careful to avoid the stuff that bugs him without making a big deal about it but also are still willing to banter and joke around and push his buttons a bit. He definitely has something wrong TM going on up there but he's also an adult man who is able to support himself and is actually incredible at combat and pretty fearless (especially of heights) and will tell you what he wants and is sometimes an asshole on purpose

He's willing to get emotionally vulnerable way before getting physically vulnerable which means he will tell you some real fucked up shit then insist that you absolutely do not hug him which probably feels awful

Eventually he will casually put his hand on your shoulder or something and if you bring it up he'll get embarrassed and go OH DO YOU NOT WANT ME TO NOW? LAST I CHECKED YOU WERE BEGGING ME TO TOUCH YOU? I CAN STOP like a dumbass

and if you are feeling extra bad he might give you a hug but like. just you, specifically. Everyone else gets a supremely awkward pat on the back, if that

he will write you songs and be VERY ENTHUSIASTIC about supporting you in your endeavors. he will bring flowers and will in general just become a complete wife guy

He will flirt then get really embarrassed about it. he will do this even after marriage.

this isn't shipping related but he actually can be super charming in certain contexts. Rich people universally love him because one of the skills he has the most points in is talking to rich people. It doesn't matter if they're criminals or whatever, the common denominator is wealth. If they have lots of money he will charm their pants off with his ambient money aura and open doors for you with his wealth rays. Champion glad-hander. this is a valuable skill to utilize

He will joyfully learn about your interests which is very sweet but on the flip side might also go on to lordsplain them to you

he loves to Help and will always ask how he can be of service but he will also activate Karen mode if he thinks anyone he cares about isn't getting the compensation they deserve

he is the EXCUSE ME. HE ASKED FOR NO PICKLES. friend

he can be flattered into doing almost anything under the sun

he will clean your house upon learning you don't have maids because someone should do it. no one should have to clean their own house

give him a nickname so he gets mad about it but grudgingly accepts it. i am desperate for this

#⤖out of coin #ADD HIM TO YOUR TRUST PARTY. HE'S USEFUL