#really happy with how boyd turned out here

[soupy-drawz]

[ID: A digital drawing of Louie and Boyd from DuckTales 2017. Boyd is running, pulling Louie by the hand and smiling back at him. Louie is looking down at their hands with wide eyes and blushing. Boyd is wearing a large yellow tropical shirt with teal pineapple print over a black shirt and orange shorts. Louie is wearing a light green tank top with a graphic of the hosts of Ottoman Empire printed on the front. They are on a beach under a pink sunset with orange clouds. Water is visible at the bottom of the drawing. End ID.]

Duckverse June week five prompt: Beach Day!

I didn’t have any fun new ideas for this one,, so I decided to draw something for an old WIP Louyd fic! Consider this a teaser for next month ;)

#ducktales #ducktales 2017 #dt17 #ducktales fanart #louyd #ducktales louie #louie duck #louie ducktales #ducktales boyd #boyd gearloose #boyd ducktales #duckverse june #really happy with how boyd turned out here #also louie with longer hair just cuz! #i've been holding off on posting the fic because I honestly haven't worked on it in ages? I was hoping I'd get back to it and finish it #but y'know.. that post about how much people might love unfinished wips and all that #maybe if it gets some feedback I'll be motivated to workon it more hehe #also accidental pan pride flag colors lol #i was trying some stuff out with the bg :3

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

it's finally here! one month late, and a couple thousand words more than i thought it'd be! happy leap yeap!

Here's my entry for Lex's (@thefreakandthehair) Spicy Six Winter Fanworks Challenge! I had dialogue prompt #22 "Guess we’re the only two without dates, huh?”

pairing: steddie | word count: 10,446 | rated: E | on AO3: hey you really turn me on

Why in the hell did he agree to this? It’s 20 fuckin’ degrees out and he’s outside?? In the snow?? Voluntarily?

If the boys could see him now.. “Who are you and what’ve you done with Eddie?”, “Since when do you do shit outside?”, “All this for Steve fuckin’ Harrington…”.

And that’s the rub, it is because of Steve. Hopeless crush aside, Steve is the reason he’s there. Why they’re all there in the first place.

When Steve got the call, Eddie and the other older teens of their world-saving group were just hanging out; movies, beer, snacks, a little weed, music playing low…all in all, a great kick-back. 

Then the phone rang.

It was relatively late too, 10 maybe?

Steve went to answer it of course, the conversation muffled through the living room and kitchen walls, but after a minute or so he came back. The long phone line stretched across the hall back to the hook in the kitchen.

“When is this again?” Steve says into the receiver, waving towards the sound system. Robin had scrambled up immediately, nearly falling back on her face to turn the volume down.

“Uh huh. And you and Dad won’t be there? Mm hmm.” he nods.

Eddie looked over to Robin first, eyebrow raised. She only shrugged, as does Nancy when he turned the look to her.

“And how many rooms?” Whatever the answer is causes Steve’s brows to shoot up. “Wow, okay, yeah we–” 

Eddie was closest to him, previously starfished out on the carpet, but had sat up and leaned back on his palms when Steve returned, so he could just barely hear the sound of another voice on the other end of the line.

“Yeah of course, that’d be great, we definitely will. Thanks Mom.”

Steve had sounded actually…happy to be talking to his mom. And here Eddie thought the Harringtons were objectively the worst.

“No, they’re going to love it, Mom, I promise.” another pause, “Nope. They’ll all be on their best behavior.” Steve glances down at Eddie, “We all will be.”

He scoffs up at Steve from his spot on the floor. Rude.

Steve only waves him off with a smile, “Yeah, the usual.” he says, “Rob, Nance, Jon, Jon’s friend Argyle–yeah, he’s the one from California, and Eddie.” Steve’s eyes flash down to Eddie again and his stomach twists sharply. Aw fuck, here it comes; the scolding, the yelling, the berating about how Eddie’s no good for him to be associating with, why are you stooping to his level, he’s a murderer, yadda yadda yadda.

“Yeah, he and Wayne are doin’ much better now, I’ll have to tell you about it next time, okay?” 

Uh.

What?

“Yeah, that’d be great if you don’t mind! Yep, Wheeler, Henderson, Sinclair,” He looks again at the other people in the room, they’re still just as puzzled as he is. What do the kids have to do with this? “I’ll talk to Hopper and Joyce, and I’m sure Ms. Mayfield would let Max go. Oh absolutely,”

Steve starts back into the kitchen, and Eddie can hear him all the way back to the hook. “No–Nope, it’s fine, I actually have a couple people over right now so I want to–yeah. Yep. Okay, love you too. Bye mom.”

Eddie looks around at the others; Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, even Argyle, though he’s not looking around wide-eyed at what all just occurred like the others are.

Steve comes back into the living room. “So…” he lets out a long breath, “How do you all feel about skiing?”

-x-X-x-

So yeah. Here they all are, at some ski resort up in Michigan. Boyd Mountain…or Bowie? Something with a ‘B’.

Turns out, Steve’s parents had a four-room cabin rental set aside as a perk for some deal they were trying to barter. It fell through though, and they wouldn’t be back from Colorado themselves until after the reservation would’ve expired so they offered it to Steve and whoever he’d like to invite.

They took care of everything too; got lift passes, boot and ski rentals set aside for each of them, even sent a whole ass passenger van to be dropped off in the Harrington driveway for them to make the drive; A huge 15 passenger one that even with the three extra seats, still barely held all their crap for the long weekend.

All of them piled into the van in the dark on a Friday morning, sleepy-faced and crusty-eyed; Robin as Steve’s co-pilot, and each of the rest of the older teens and the party piling in wherever they could (they’d fight about their seats when they woke up more, Eddie was sure of it).

The first rest stop on the way up went by without incident, but by time they stopped for late breakfast/early lunch at another, everyone was stir crazy. Sandwiches were passed out, gas was gotten, bathroom breaks were taken, and almost as soon as they got back in the van, Robin was snoring.

“Damnit, if I knew she was gonna tank like that I would’ve had someone else sit up here.” Steve had groused. 

“I’ve gotcha big guy, I won’t let you fall asleep.” Eddie said, now seated next to Dustin and El on the first bench behind the driver’s seat.

“Yeah, me either.” Dustin agreed.

He was snoring an hour later, El leaning into him for her own nap.

“That’s cute.” Was the first thing Robin said after waking back up.

All in all, not a bad drive. The worst part was tramping through the snow to the cabin after they’d arrived.

“Goddammit Steve, How am I supposed to get through this week in only my jeans?”

Steve sighs, “Eddie, you have made the same argument ever since my mom called; and every time you did, I told you everything would be here for you.”

He finally gets the door open, shoving it wide for them all and gesturing them in, “Get comfy guys, I’m going to grab the cooler with our groceries.”

“I’ll give you a hand,” Jonathan says, following Steve back out to the van.

The large open main floor has a full kitchen with a raised bar counter and four stools, tall peaked ceilings, a fireplace on one wall with two couches and a rocking chair situated around it, and a sliding glass door to a balcony off the back side of the building overlooking the trees below.

There’s stairs too, a set going up and a set going down, and at least one bathroom here on this floor, off the kitchen.

Eddie wanders into the living room, picks out some pieces of kindling from the bucket on the stone beside the fireplace and a couple logs from the stack nearby, and busies himself with starting the fire while the party pokes around the place.

He glances over his shoulder when he hears the fake leather of the couch cushions squeak together, only to see Argyle has perched himself on the backrest, squashing a cushion beneath his feet.

The fire takes less than no time at all, and once it’s going and he’s re-situated the trifold metal screen back in front of the fire, he sits down beside Argyle’s shins and is immediately entranced by the flames.

Steve and Jonathan return not long after, lugging their things with the cooler hanging between them.

“So how do y’guys want to split up the rooms?” Robin asks aloud, ignoring the yelling the other teens are already doing about the same thing.

“I’m not picky.” Eddie shrugs, standing up to stretch again, deciding he really did not want to be sitting anymore.

“Me either sister, whatever you decide is cool with me.” Argyle agrees. “What’re the rooms like?”

“There’s a master up here!” Max calls from above them, looming over the log railing at the top of the stairs with El.

“We walked right past it, but there’s a room with a queen off the front hall there,” Jonathan says, shuffling his bag against the kitchen bar.

“Hey! Assholes!” Steve yells down the steps, the boys must’ve gone down there. “Go get your shit out of the van and we’ll head over to the main lodge!”

The four thunder up the steps, how any of them can understand any other over the other is beyond him.

“Will,” Nancy calls as he rounds the stairs last, “There are bedrooms down there?”

“Yep!” he grins, “Two rooms with queen beds, and a bathroom.”

“I don’t mind taking one of the queens,” Nancy says, “Robin, wanna share with me?”

Robin starts to splutter, still somehow not convinced that Nancy’s got a thing for her. It’s obvious to him, but he and Steve have both tried to tell her this. To no avail. Even after Jonathan and her had confirmed they’d split and that he was moving back to California with Argyle come spring.

Steve rescues Robin from her spluttering. “It’s only fair that Argyle gets next dibs, since he’s the one that’s offered to cook for us.” he says, lugging the cooler over to the kitchen to unload it.

He’d insisted on picking up groceries for their stay, saying “There’s a restaurant, sure, but that’d get expensive quick and we’ll have a full kitchen so why not?”

“Appreciated my man; y’wanna bunk with me, Jonny?”

Eddie follows Steve, leaning on the bar across from the fridge from him, “So where’s all my snow gear, Stevie?” he asks the back of Steve’s head.

“Eddie, I swear to God.” Steve huffs in return, bending down into the cooler at his feet to fish out a couple of cartons of eggs.

Eddie does not watch how the denim of Steve’s jeans pulls tighter over any part of him, thank you very much.

“Mom called ahead and has everything we might need set aside in the main lodge, we’ll go there first before we hit the slopes.”

“Oh my god, did you really just say that?” Eddie asks as Steve stashes away two jars of jelly, one strawberry, one grape.

“Say what?” Bacon and some packs of lunch meat are next.

“Like, that’s an actual thing that people say? It’s not just in the movies?”

Steve sighs, finishing off the groceries with a couple 12 packs of pop stashed on the bottom shelf. “What is just like the movies?”

“‘Hit the slopes.’? Really?”

“You’re super annoying, you know that, right?” he says, closing the fridge and pushing the lid back onto their cooler.

“Awe, c’mon baby, you don’t mean that.” Eddie coos, slipping around the counter to cup Steve’s face in his hands, “What happened to the man who loves me for my antics, huh?”

“Get off me, dude,” Steve laughs, batting Eddie’s hands away, his cheeks tinged pink.

‘Yes! Success!’ When did he decide he was trying to fluster Steve? Eh, whatever. No harm, right?

 “So, did you guys figure out the sleeping situation?” Steve asks the rest of the group, walking back around the bar.

Eddie follows, leaning back on the counter in his previously vacated spot.

Nancy nods, “Jon and Argyle will take the room on the main floor, us girls will take the two downstairs, you can take the master, and the boys will take the couches.”

The boys return with their bags then, and Mike immediately starts complaining about being relegated to the fold-outs. Eddie also hears Dustin and Lucas trying to talk him down, saying things like “Dude, that means we’ll be close to the fire!”, “We can throw things in it!,” and “We can make s’mores!”.

Steve doesn’t seem to hear them though, otherwise he’d be shutting that shit down. Instead, his face only scrunches in confusion, “What about Eddie?”

Nancy looks surprised for a blink, then disgruntled, like she’s pissed she forgot someone.

“I’ll just crash out here on the floor with these losers, no worries.” he shrugs.

Steve turns toward his voice, a deep crease between his brows. “That’s not fair.”

“I promise I’ll survive Stevie,” Eddie chuckles. At least he’ll be the warmest out here in front of the fireplace. “I’ve slept on worse, believe it or not, I’ll be sleeping like a king compared to then.”

Steve’s brows scrunch almost all the way together, then spring apart and settle into determined lines. “You’ll sleep with me.” he says with a nod, his arms folding across his chest.

A beat passes.

Eddie can’t resist.

He leans close to Steve’s side, “A bit presumptuous, Stevie darling,”

Steve’s face practically glows with the flush that appears in the next beat, mumbling something to himself as he walks to the door and starts to pull on his coat and boots.

Eddie pushes off the counter and follows, obnoxiously holding a hand up to one ear. “What’s that, sweetheart?” he teases, walking to his own tossed-aside boots, “I didn’t quite catch that.”

“We going to the lodge now?” he hears Lucas ask as he passes.

“Finally.” Mike adds, unhelpfully.

Steve huffs, standing up again and leaning close to Eddie’s cupped hand, “As if you hadn’t thought about it, darling.”

Four of the other ten are in their coats and boots and out the door after Steve before Eddie comes back online.

-x-X-x-

So here he is: outside. In the snow. With skis strapped to his feet. All because of Steve and his surprisingly generous parents.

He watches, amused, as Robin stands as still as she possibly can, arms spread wide, while Nancy helps strap her into her skis. As soon as the skis had gotten remotely close to being attached to her, it was discovered that no matter what section of ground they may be standing on, Robin would start to drift away. Sliding down some sort of unseen incline backwards, frontwards, and/or sideways.

Jon and Argyle are already almost to the closest lift, and Eddie watches as they do a weird half-jump onto the bench as it comes up behind them.

The gremlins had scattered after Steve’s ‘be careful’ lecture, telling them all when to be back to the van by, or back to the cabin if they will be coming off the slopes near there, telling them all to be safe and to keep to pairs or more so they can be radioed.

They’d all brought their walkies with them, and Eddie can see where the boys are still huddled together, swapping out their batteries.

He watches them split off soon after, Dustin and Lucas pushing off to where Max and El are waiting at the standing lift to the top of the training hill.

Mike and Will scoot off together in the opposite direction, toward the centermost lift a few dozen yards away.

“Guess we’re the only two without dates, huh?” He says as Steve slides to a stop on his own skis beside him.

He’d meant it jokingly, was probably going to follow it up with some jabs about being Steve’s wingman if he needed (there were already a few ladies he’d seen giving Steve some looks while they waited for their gear in the main lodge), but Steve shrugs and says: “I’ll be your date this weekend, Eds. Wouldn’t want you to feel left out or anything.” 

Eddie whips his head around to look at him, “That’s not–” he starts, but cuts himself off at the look Steve is giving him. His goggles have been haphazardly pushed up his face, trapping a few loose locks of Steve’s hair between them and the roll of his beanie, his cheeks are already bitten red with the cold, and he’s smiling so painfully sincerely under that damn teasing smirk that all Eddie can do is acquiesce.

“You better be the best date here then, Stevie,” Eddie chides, starting off toward the lift Jonathan and Argyle had disappeared up, “I won’t settle for anyone other than the bes–” he pitches forward suddenly, one of his skis sticking to the snow under it more than it should’ve.

Steve catches him, of course, and says “Will I get points taken off as ‘Best Date Ever’ if I make you go on the training hill?”

They do go to the training hill, lovingly called the Bunny Hopper, but he and Robin are thankfully saved from the embarrassment of actually being taught by the volunteers there; Steve and Nancy taking them to the slightly taller ‘big kid’ hill and teaching them there.

Surprising even himself, Eddie picks up on the motions and the feeling of being on skis easily. The whole ‘pizza’ thing about stopping was still iffy but the rest is no problem. Fun, actually.

“That was great, man! You’re a natural!” Steve beams at him, his grin lopsided from the meat of his cheeks being squashed under his goggles.

“I just had a great teacher,” he brushes off the compliment, elbowing Steve playfully.

Steve somehow grins even bigger, and Eddie’s heart stammers.

“You ready to go to the real hill now?” “This isn’t a real hill?”

He’s positive Steve just rolled his eyes under his goggles. “C’mon smartass, let's get in line for the lift.”

Eddie bows him forward, “After you, sweetheart.” 

He follows Steve to the end of the line; thankfully it’s not too long, now that it’s late afternoon and will be getting dark soon. 

Steve seems to notice this as well, lifting his goggles off his face again. “We’ll have to call the gremlins back sooner than I thought. It’ll be dark soon.”

“Stop reading my mind, Stevie.”

Steve looks over at him, squinting hard and pursing his lips (Eddie’s stupid lizard brain has a split second thought of those lips pursed around something). “Ugh! Ew, gross Eddie, what would make you think about that?!”

He feels his face blanche and scrambles to recover. “I was only thinking about our good friend Robin, Steve-o, you saying Robin is gross?” He pitches his voice higher and glances down the line to where he can see Robin and Nancy.

Robin flips her mitten up at him, and he can infer the gesture just fine, thanks.

“Shut up, asshole.” Steve laughs, pushing him out of the line on his skis.

They’re the next to hop up on the moving bench, and Steve’s…everything…seems to seize up as soon as they’re seated and on their way.

“Could you imagine?”

“Hm?” He’s still looking down anxiously, so Eddie scoots just a bit closer, pressing what he hopes is comfortingly into Steve’s side.

“If we could read each other's minds? If the bats biting us both somehow linked us together?”

It works a little; Steve tears his eyes away from the ground as it drops away from them, huffing out a short laugh, “I don’t think I would survive inside your head, it’d be even more chaotic than you already are.”

“As if your head would be any better.”

“Hey, my head is great!”

Eddie grins wickedly, “You get told that a lot, Stevie?”

Steve seems unphased, smirking slowly. “I do, actually. Why? You tryin’ t’see if it’s true?”

His cheeks start to prickle, “You offering, big boy?”

“Maybe I am,” Steve shrugs then leans closer, “Now the real question is if you’re gonna take me up on it.”

Eddie’s head reels in the couple seconds he takes to respond.

Where in the hell is all this coming from? Is it just part of the ‘date’ thing? There’s no fuckin’ way Steve is actually into him, is there? He’s always been flirty, just like Eddie is himself, but there’s no way there are any actual feelings behind it… So there’s no harm in playing along.

“I’m gonna have to now, aren’t I?” he grins back, “Gotta see if it lives up to the hype.”

Steve smirks, his eyes hooded. He’s good at pretending, he’ll give him that.

His eyes glance away, then back to Eddie’s face. The sultry look he’d been hamming up for his sake is gone, just an easy smile remains. At least this sudden flirting Steve’s decided to do isn’t going to ruin their surprisingly solid post-apocalyptic friendship.

“It’s almost time to get off, ready?”

Eddie looks ahead to where the couple on the bench before them are hopping off. They stand up off the lift easily and don’t end up in a heap, but he is starting to feel the anxiety Steve was feeling only minutes ago. How’s he supposed to get out of the way fast enough, isn’t there a drop? That looked way too easy.

“As I’ll ever be,” he gulps.

“Give me your hand.” Steve says, not waiting for a response and snatching up Eddie’s hand in his, “Okay, when I say so, you just gotta stand up. Ready?”

“Stand up, what do you mea—” he feels his legs lift a bit as the ground rises to coast under his skis, and it makes sense.

“Now!”

Wait, no! He wasn’t ready!

He stands just a breath after Steve, but isn’t fast enough, the lift continues up on its path and catches him again, forcing his butt back into the seat.

“Eddie, you gotta–”

He tries again at the same time Steve pulls him forward and he pitches forward, landing with an “Oof–” on top of Steve and forcing the breath from the other man’s lungs.

“Aw fuck, sorry Stevie!” He rolls off of him and out of the path of the upcoming lift chairs. “That went exactly as well as I thought it would.”

Steve wheezes out a breathless laugh, standing back up on his skis with no problem at all. Wait, how did he do that? How’s he supposed to get up with these things on his feet?

“Here,” Steve arranges his skis for him, putting one long side of each onto the snow, “Give me your poles, and push yourself up with your hands. You want to get your feet under you.”

He does as he’s told and walks his weight around on his hands to the fronts of his skis until he’s bent forward at his hips, standing straight out of the bend.

“...Huh.”

“Good job, man!” Steve grins, handing him back his poles, “Getting up on skis can be a bitch and a half; way to catch on quick.”

Eddie grins mischievously, deciding to be a little shit. “I dunno, you’d think my date would like seeing me bent over for him, huh Stevie?”

Steve just rolls his eyes, snapping his goggles back down with a smile, “C’mon, asshole, let’s get out of the way; the run to the right of the lift looked shorter on the map.”

Thankfully, the chair behind them had been empty, but the next one had a full four people on it and it was coming up fast.

“‘Sides,” He says, pushing off toward the top of the run, waiting for Eddie to scoot in next to him at the crest before leaning in and murmuring low into his ear, “I’d rather wait ‘till we’re alone to bend you over properly.”

Steve’s a good 20 feet away by time Eddie comes back to himself enough to follow.

They get about an hour and a half in on the hills, a grand total of six wipeouts under Eddie’s belt, and a couple others under Steve’s, with one successful landing off one of the jumps on the main drag to finish off the day.

“Didja see that?!” Steve yells, pulling down the balaclava he’d unceremoniously added to his getup about an hour ago.

“Hell yes Stevie!” Eddie calls, breathless, still coasting to the bottom of the slope after him. “You landed it!”

“I landed it!” 

Steve holds his arms open as Eddie once again fails to slow himself down properly, and catches him at the bottom in a crushing hug. His cheeks are flushed with adrenaline, bitten with the cold, his eyes bright in the setting sun and smile nearly as beautiful.

Damn he’s pretty.

Courteous as ever, Steve waits until Eddie’s arranged his feet the right way again before letting him go to spin the pack off his back for their assigned walkie.

Steve radios the party, and everyone is packed away in their van a scant ten minutes later. The older teens had already made it back to the cabin, letting themselves in off a run near there, so it was only the similarly flushed and excitement-filled younger teens babbling away in the back seats.

There’s overlapping stories of their own wipeouts (including one Robin took that Max swears was hilarious), Dustin insisting he saw a brown bear through the trees at one point, and all six debating whether or not they’d want to go to the main lodge for the waterpark tomorrow instead of back onto the hills.

They are still debating amongst themselves when they pull into the driveway. “Alright dorks,” Steve calls over the bickering, “Go inside and hang up your shit next to the fireplace so it can dry out.”

Eddie follows the troop into the living room and watches them pile all their outerwear together on the two hooks closest to the stone fireplace, then tear off downstairs where he heard there may have been a Nintendo stashed in one of the bedroom dressers.

Jonathan and Robin start methodically re-arranging the coats and snow pants on the hooks so they’ll dry easier, while Argyle pushes up off one of the couches to start on dinner. 

“C’mon Eds, get comfy,” Steve says, coming up beside him and gesturing to the loveseat directly across from the roaring fire. Eddie can already feel the burn of it across his frigid skin, “I gotta make sure I get you unthawed before I get you into my bed.” Steve murmurs into Eddie’s ear.

And isn’t that a whole new type of torment. They will actually be sleeping in the same bed tonight…the next three nights!

Steve turns back to the kitchen when Eddie drops cross-legged onto the sofa, and the tingling feeling in his cheeks has nothing to do with the fire.

It’s half from Steve’s scarily earnest-sounding flirting, but also about half from the look Robin is giving him while she takes the spot next to Nancy on the other couch.

“What? What’s the look for?”

Robin shrugs, picking up what must’ve been her discarded book from the end table between them (which she’s got the already read half curled backward around its spine, like a heathen), “Nothin’ at all, Eds.”

His face is burning hotter than the fire by the time Steve returns.

He passes them each a mug of cocoa, then flops down on the floor in front of Eddie’s knees. 

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?” Eddie asks, surprised at the nonchalance he was able to muster up. He reaches forward and tugs on a lock of Steve’s hair without even thinking about it (and ignoring the muffled giggle coming from somewhere to Robin’s left. Oh great, Nancy’s in on his torment too?).

Steve lets out a contented hum, dropping his head back to lie heavily in Eddie’s lap, “Argyle’s whipping up some burgers.”

Eddie leaves his fingers in Steve’s hair, absentmindedly pulling them through a few tangles left behind by his hat.

Steve’s head lolls around in Eddie’s lap with the motions of his fingers for a whole thirty seconds before he snaps it back up, “Oh–ugh–wait, don’t do that,” Eddie pulls his hand away immediately, an apology on his tongue, but Steve continues, standing up and saying, “I’m all gross and sweaty, man, at least let me take a shower first. Be right back.” Steve grins, and heads upstairs to the master bedroom.

Eddie blinks into the space left behind by Steve’s departure, then Nancy is standing as well; “That’s a good idea,” she says, unfolding from her spot at Robin’s side and walking around the back of the couch, “I’ll be back up soon.” She gives Robin’s shoulder a squeeze, and heads downstairs.

Not a full five seconds pass before Robin says, “So...Steve’s super into you.”

Eddie balks at her, his eyes darting around the room automatically. Jon’s helping Argyle chop up toppings for their burgers, the two of them paying less than zero attention to him or Robin, there’s a yell from downstairs followed by laughter, the sound of a shower starting from the open balcony to the upstairs bedroom..

“You can’t just say shit like that, Birdie.” he whispers, his tone harried.

“What, the truth?”

“He is not into me.”

She nods in sarcastic understanding, “Ah, so you’re into him.”

“No I’m—” she levels him with a look. He sighs, glancing around at the no one around them, “Okay fine, yes, I am super into him. But he is not into me.”

Robin shrugs, going back to her book. “You don’t have to believe me, but I think he is. And I think you should make a move.”

“Make a mo—He’s straight as fuck, Robin!”

She gives him a glance, her brow furrowing for a split second then smoothing out. “Did he tell you that?”

“He didn’t have to.” he says, sinking back against the cushions.

She doesn’t say anything else, and he goes back to staring at the fire.

“If you make a move on Steve, I’ll finally make a move on Nancy.” she says a handful of minutes later.

He processes that slowly, takes a deep breath, then shoves his hand towards her without looking over.

She takes it, giving it one hard shake.

As soon as he takes his hand back, Argyle lopes into view with a plate in his hand, “Food’s ready my dudes.” He says, sinking into the armchair closest to the glass balcony door.

Robin snaps her book shut and sets it down on the little end table between them (the cover curls back up immediately, the poor thing), standing up and heading into the kitchen. 

Eddie has just let his feet fall to the floor and has scooted to the edge of his seat to stand up himself, when Argyle yells out “Nice tits!”

“Whose tits are out?” Eddie asks, following his gaze automatically. 

Argyle goes back to his plate. “Steve’s.” 

Uh…Yeah…He can see that for himself now.

Steve is standing at the railing of the upper floor in nothing but a towel. One hand is flipping Argyle off, and the other is preoccupied with scrubbing a second towel over his damp hair.

The towel wrapped around him is slung low on his hips, and Eddie’s eyes start to roam on their own.

Steve’s stomach is solid yet soft-looking with all its faded pink scars, and it and his chest are still as hairy as Eddie remembers; strong shoulders, solid jaw, dusty lips that pull up into a smirk, all of him is so fucking perfect.

“Hurry it up, dingus, food’s ready!” Robin calls, startling Eddie out of his gawking.

His face goes hot with embarrassment, chancing another glance up to Steve and hoping he didn’t get caught…

Steve winks at him, then turns out of sight, disappearing just as his hand comes down to grab the towel twisted around him.

His face burns, and doesn’t stop burning until long after Steve returns from upstairs.

He makes up a burger for himself, and once each of them have theirs, they call the rest of the hoard upstairs. The six teens all but destroy the remaining burgers, two whole bags of chips, and would have gulped down at least one whole 12 pack of Coke if Nancy hadn’t relegated them to one can each.

Steve’s about to herd them back downstairs when El pipes up and says that they’ve decided they want to go to the waterpark in the main lodge tonight instead of tomorrow. Surprisingly, Steve agrees to drive them over there on the condition “you shitheads are careful, and are ready to go as soon as the pools close at midnight. Got it?”

“Agreed.” they say in unison, splitting off in all directions to grab their swim stuff.

“I’m surprised at you, Stevie, letting them go off on their own.”

He just shrugs, “There’s lifeguards.”

The troops are back in the living room within ten minutes, and in their boots and out the door in 12. 

Once they’re out the door, Robin goes back to her book, Jon and Argyle step out onto the balcony to smoke, and Eddie follows Nancy into the kitchen without even thinking about it, grabbing up the hand towel hanging from the oven door and placing himself to her right.

“Thanks,” she says, handing him the first wet plate from the mess of suds in the sink.

They work in silence for a few minutes, listening to the crackling of the fire, the clanging of silverware in the sink, the muffled voices of the two on the porch.

“Nancy?”

“Yeah, Eddie?”

“If I–If Ste–” he wasn’t sure how to ask this, how to even approach the topic, “Robin said—”

“He’d be lucky to have you Eddie, and you him.” She says, not looking up from the sink.

“How’d you–?”

“Robin tends to ramble when she's nervous, have you noticed?”

He stares down at her, dumbfounded. Her lips quirk into a smile. “She’s like that around me a lot, actually.”

“I’ve noticed.”

They fall back into silence again; on the last plate, she says, “Robin’s already had this conversation with Steve about me, so I only assume it’s fair that you have it with me about him.” She passes the last plate to him and pulls the drain from the water. 

“Just remember Eddie,” She pauses and turns to face him, one hip cocked over to lean on the edge of the counter. “If you’re gonna go for it..Steve loves with all of him at once. Don’t take it for granted.”

He sets the dried plate onto the rack beside the sink as she passes behind him, patting him on the shoulder as she does.

He wants to take a moment to process all that, but just his luck, Steve returns then, passing in behind him where Nancy just left to grab up a six-pack.

Steve hands one to Eddie as he leaves, “You okay, Eds?”

“I’m good, thanks Stevie.” he says, fixing his face into an easy smile.

The six of them lounge around the rest of the evening, slowly sipping on their drinks while they play cards in front of the fire, but there’s a catch: Eddie’s going absolutely insane.

Steve’s touching him everywhere. His thigh and foot are sitting comfortably under Eddie’s own thigh where it’s crossed above it, his arm is draped across the back of the couch behind Eddie’s shoulders and methodically twirling long lengths of dark hair between his fingers.

Eddie’s been doing his damndest to ignore it, and succeeds, actually, for short periods of time while they are playing Uno, but every time Steve leans back from dropping his next card on the coffee table, he casually puts his arm back where it was, and grabs up a new lock of Eddie’s hair to torture him with.

And each time he does, Robin gives him the same knowing look.

It’s. Agony.

He wants to relax, wants to scream, he wants to swing his leg over Steve’s lap and press him into the cushions with heated kisses, he wants to haul the other man upstairs and throw him onto the bed…be thrown onto the bed.

Finally, Nancy calls it, breaking their little bubble to stand into a long stretch around nine. Steve hops up off the couch after Robin to gather up all the rest of the cans, and Eddie helps Jon and Argyle pull apart the couches enough to fold out the beds for when the goblins come back.

He escapes upstairs after a short goodnight to the two, Robin and Steve are still bickering in hushed tones about something in the kitchen, and pulls out his bag. He’s fishing out a new pair of boxers when Steve finally gets upstairs, shutting the room’s double doors behind him and heading into the ensuite.

He left the door open in his wake, so Eddie grabs up the rest of his things and follows. He drops his pile of stuff onto the closed lid of the toilet and shucks his shirt unceremoniously, tossing it to the floor.

The glass door of the huge half-walled stone shower squeaks softly on its hinges when he opens it to start the water, squeaking again when it swings closed. He reaches up to a shelf above the toilet to pull down one of the provided towels, turning to hang it on the hook beside the shower.

It’s while he’s turning back to the hook that he chances a look at Steve.

Steve, frozen at the sink with his toothbrush hanging listlessly in the air and a glob of foamy toothpaste slowly drooping off his lip, is staring. 

Unabashedly.

At Eddie’s bare torso.

Eddie caught and cataloged this in the split second it took Steve to realize Eddie was staring back, but it was enough. 

The flirting had been one thing, a natural, goofy continuation of their friendship that led to their ‘date’ today, the soft touches and hair-playing had been another, something Eddie could explain away just as easily. Steve is a touchy guy once you get close to him, and had been with Eddie since they’d gotten closer after spring break.

But this?

He’s looking at him with the same wide-eyed look Eddie’d given him earlier: gobsmacked and slightly hungry.

Steve turns away quickly, spitting into the sink and mumbling something under his breath while he finishes rinsing out his mouth. 

Eddie snorts, shaking his head and finally hanging up his towel.

“Oh, what, now you’re gonna be all shy?” he grouses, twisting around to scowl at the back of Steve’s head. Steve looks over his shoulder to glare at him in return, his cheeks glowing red. “Really? The guy who was joking about bending me over only a couple hours ago? The same guy who was winking at me in nothing but a towel earlier?”

Steve flushes darker, and it irritates him to no end. “Honestly Steve?” Eddie starts, turning back to the shower and pretending to fix how his towel is hanging, “If you’re into me, just do something about it. Otherwise, just…back off, okay? I’m super into you but I can be a big boy about it because honestly, I’d rather keep you around as a friend if nothing else and—”

His rambling is cut off by the click of the bathroom door closing.

Eddie lets out a long breath, “Yeah.. that’s about what I expected.” Robin was wrong.

He takes a moment to collect himself, but just as he pops open the button on his jeans, Steve’s voice breaks through the sound of rushing water.

“Were you being serious?”

“Jesus H. Christ!” Eddie yelps, spinning around to face the man who’s still very much in the bathroom with him. “What the fuck, Steve?”

“Were you?” he asks, pushing off from where he’d been leaning back on the door.

“...About what?”

“About how you’re ‘super into’ me?” he grins.

Eddie crosses his arms across his chest defensively, “You don’t get to be an ass about it, Steve.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Steve says softly, reaching out to unfold Eddie’s arms. His fingers follow the length of them and grasp Eddie’s in his, “I wasn’t trying to be, promise; I’m just surprised is all.”

“Surprised?”

“Well yeah,” he shrugs, “The super hot metalhead you’ve been mooning after since March confesses he thinks you’re also super hot? That’s kinda hard to believe.”

He can feel Steve’s shirt brushing faintly against his stomach now. “I never said you were super hot.” he manages to say.

Steve catches his eyes, smirking at him with an obnoxious head tilt, “Didja have to?”

“Shut up..” Eddie snorts out a laugh and pushes lightly at Steve’s chest; he’s laughing too. “Okay, okay, now leave me alone so I can shower.” he says, pushing a bit harder this time. “I’ll be out soon and you can do with me what you wish.”

Steve’s leaning his weight against him, fighting going back to the bedroom, “Or…”

“Or?” Damn, he’s heavy what the fuck!

“I could, maybe, if you want..Icouldgetinwithyou.”

Eddie stops pushing.

Steve scratches at the back of his head in embarrassment, “I mean, I’ve been wanting to get you naked for months now and there’s a perfectly good reason right there, and I think it’d be nice to shower, y’know…together.. and wow, I am being super awkward, actually..so I’m just gonna…yeah.”

Steve gestures over his shoulder toward the bedroom but he doesn’t even move to turn before Eddie is pulling him back the other way.

He lets him go a couple steps away from the glass shower door, “Better get t’stripping big boy, can’t shower very well with clothes on, can you?” he winks, then faces away from Steve to finally shed his jeans (and for his own sanity).

Eddie can hear the split second it takes for Steve to start pulling off his clothes, taking another second for himself before pushing his jeans and boxers off his hips.

He had been trying to be in the shower under the spray before Steve was even out of his clothes, but one of his legs got caught, then he had to pause further to pull off the stubborn sock that decided not to come off with his jeans.

Which of course led to him nearly toppling over.

He caught himself on the wall, but not before Steve’s hands caught him around the waist too. “Careful, Eds.”

Oh fuck. Steve’s hands should not feel that good against his skin..also, dammit! He was trying to be all suave and cool by getting in under the water before Steve could see him fully, and now his bare fuckin’ ass is out for all to see…

Eddie laughs to himself.

“What?”

“Nothin’, I just thought I’d be…better? At this?”

“At what?”

“Stupid fuckin’—” Eddie finally gets his sock off, then sighs, “I dunno, being sexy, or mysterious I guess? Coy maybe?” 

“Why would you need to be any of that?”

Eddie shrugs, stepping out of Steve’s hold and into the shower and under the spray, staying faced away from the door while Steve follows.

“Are you gonna look at me?” he asks, voice devoid of anything but concern.

Taking a breath, Eddie steels himself and turns to face Steve in the large shower.

Steve’s expression is calm, open, but skews slightly into concern under Eddie’s gaze.

The long lean lines of his torso are just the same as the other two times he’s seen them, but they’re close now, and in good lighting too; Eddie can see a few other scars other than the ones from the bats, others he’s gotten over the years protecting the heard of goblins they’ve been co-parenting since last September.

He watches rogue droplets of water slough down the now-damp hairs on his arms, his legs, his chest, the ones that follow the path of darkening hairs down his stomach to his—

Steve steps closer, sharing the warm, wide spray of the shower with him.

He lifts his hand and brushes the damp hair back from the scar that marrs Eddie’s face and neck, stepping forward fully and cupping the puckered flesh in his palm when the hair settles wetly behind his shoulder

Eddie feels time stop for a brief moment. 

All of Steve is pressed into him and they line up perfectly, like they were made to share the same space. Steve’s other hand slides onto Eddie’s hip and it tugs him closer. Steve's half-hard length slots into place beside Eddie’s own, into the crevice where his crotch meets thigh.

Eddie shudders a breath at the feeling, opening his eyes to study the planes of Steve’s face and the way he is seemingly drooping forward into Eddie’s orbit. 

Steve’s smiling softly at him, the soft spray of water reflecting off their chests is misting up onto his cheek and lashes. His eyes are so much more green than he’d thought before, besides how little of the color he can see around the much larger pupil.

“Gorgeous.” Steve says, his voice is breathy and low, full of admiration, of longing…and it takes Eddie out of his reverie.

“Wha?” He says, eloquent as ever.

“You’re gorgeous, Eddie.”

Then, Steve’s lips are on his, tentative and sweet; soft, but becoming heady fast. 

The next time their lips meet, it’s punctuated with a short huff of air from Steve’s lungs when Eddie spins them, pressing Steve into the stone wall beside the shower knobs. He parts his lips to mumble out an apology, but Steve’s tongue decides to fill the space instead.

The hand Steve had on Eddie’s jaw snakes down to grab hold of his other hip and pulls him even closer, using the both of them to roll Eddie’s hips into his.

Their tongues slide languidly against the other, the fast pace they’d been building into falling off in exchange for slow, sanguine kisses instead.

Eddie lets out a shaky breath when they do part, blinking across the short distance between them at Steve’s kiss-bitten lips for only a second before letting his eyes fall shut with the exhale.

“Steve…is this—Is this real?”

Steve breathes out a shaky laugh of his own, “Why wouldn’t it be real, Eddie?” He asks, gently tracing the length of Eddie’s nose with his.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve had this exact dream before; are you sure I didn’t snap my neck during one of those falls earlier?”

The younger man laughs fully this time, and Eddie relishes in the slippery feeling of the wet skin of Steve’s stomach rippling against his own. He can’t help but grin in response to both the laughter and the funny feeling, his eyes opening without a second thought.

Steve looks like he’s floating, his face soft and dripping with a bright beaming smile..

“Do you need me to pinch you?” Steve asks, finally coming down from his brief fit of laughter.

“I don’t know if I want to find out this isn’t real.” Eddie grins in return.

One of Steve’s large hands leaves his hip then, snaking around to pinch the underside of Eddie’s asscheek.

He sucks in a short hiss of pain and lets out a soft whimper of something else (holy shit, when did that become a thing??) in the same breath.

“Okay…” he gulps down a mouthful of nothing, “Not a dream.”

“Not a dream..” Steve repeats. 

There’s a beat, two full breaths of more nothing before Steve spins them around and pushes Eddie back into the cold stone instead, his arm wrapped around him and up to cup the back of his skull protectively against the tile.

He presses a thick thigh between Eddie’s and does three things almost simultaneously.

The first, a second before the other two: He locks his heavy-lidded gaze on Eddie’s; two and three: presses the thigh between Eddie’s legs up, and pulls the hand at the back of his skull down along with a fistful of dark curls.

“Aahhh—ohhh fuck, Steve…” The sting from his scalp pulls a moan from his exposed throat, and Eddie scrambles to grab hold of something.

His nails dig into the slick skin of Steve’s back automatically, and he opens his mouth to apologize the same moment Steve latches onto his neck with a low groan of his own.

The hand not tangled in Eddie’s hair is starting to pull him down in waves against Steve’s thigh and hips, both of them hissing in pleasure with each pass of the other’s length against theirs.

“Mmmm, Eddie..” Steve moans, unlatching from the bruise he’s sure to have left on Eddie’s throat to lave his tongue and lips against his jaw instead. “Baby, you feel so good against me.”

“AAaahh—mmm..”

“Ooh, and you sound so sweet..” His lips trail down from his jaw back to the definitely sore spot on his neck, one that he prods lightly with the tip of his tongue before continuing on to nip at the taught skin of his collarbone, kiss lightly over the skin of his scarred pec, finally landing tongue first onto Eddie’s remaining nipple. 

The reaction to this is immediate; Eddie arches his chest further into Steve’s mouth. Steve, the sonofabitch he is, suctions his lips away from Eddie’s flushed skin in response.

“Hhnng—what the actual fuck, Steve?” Eddie glares best he can though the panting, “Get that mouth back over here.”

Miraculously, Steve obliges, sliding forward into a saccharine kiss and pulling Eddie away from

the wall and back under the spray of water.

“C’mon Eds, tilt your head back before the hot water runs out.”

Eddie just gapes at him, at his dick, both their dicks, still standing at attention, back up to his face.

Steve just purses his lips together as if holding back a grin and tugs Eddie’s head back by his hair again, soaking the strands through under the water.

He lets Steve turn him this way and that, reveling in the feeling of the other man’s hands in his hair, slick with soap on his skin, the gentle nudges and pulls relaxing him further into this weird world where Steve’s totally into him and also they’re naked in the shower together.

Finally, when Steve tilts his head back for the final time to rinse the conditioner out of his hair, Eddie decides to be a little shit, pushing his hips forward to clash their (still half-hard) dicks together.

“What are you—really? A sword fight?”

Eddie lets out a long cackle, “What? You knew what you were getting into with me, didn’t’cha Stevie?”

Doubt crashes into Eddie’s chest the instant the words escape his mouth.

He did, didn’t he? He likes him for his antics right? Oh fuck…How long would it take for Steve to get sick of his shit?

Despite Eddie’s near-crushing doubts, Steve smiles and says, “That I did.” easy as breathing, then pulls Eddie flush against him in another heated kiss.

Steve walks him backward after a moment, and Eddie drops his hands behind him to feel for the inevitable press of cold stone on his back, shuddering when it finally makes contact.

His gasp from the cold tile only seems to egg the other man on, hunching down to grip him around the backs of his thighs.

Eddie’s legs lock around Steve’s waist in panic, but pleasure shoots through him with the motion too, the horny thrill of being picked up so effortlessly along with the pressure of Steve’s stomach against the underside of his dick.

“Mmph—Steve holy shit,” he’s only just managed to thread the fingers on one hand into those sleek brown locks when he has to stifle down a long groan with a bite to his knuckle. “Hnngh–Steve, Steve, you gotta—oh fuck..”

The muscles of Steve’s stomach bunch under him as he grinds up in slow, torturous rolls..

“Oh, fuck—” the words spill out of his mouth, loud and long; his palm snaps up to hold them in as Steve pushes his shoulders into the tile behind him and leans back, leaving Eddie’s body balanced between strong thighs and shower wall.

The tile hits hard on the back of his skull when Steve wraps one of those hands of his around both their lengths. Eddie manages to look down, only to knock his head back again at the sight. 

Even with the added height of being on top of Steve’s thighs, their heads are exactly level, disappearing over and over again into the water-warmed skin of Steve’s fist.

Steve hunches forward again, pressing kisses into Eddie’s sternum. “Gorgeous.” 

“Steve...” he whispers in return, grinding as much as he can against the length slotted along his.

Again, too soon, Steve is pulling away, releasing his grip on them both.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asks, already moving to drop his legs back to the floor. 

Steve stops him, hoisting his legs back around him and lifting him off the wall. “I’m taking you up on your offer.” He says, twisting off the now-cold stream of water and carefully stepping over the lip of the doorway through the glass door.

“My offer?”

“You said that after your shower, you’d come back out here to the bedroom and I could have my way with you.”

A half whine, half moan curls out of Eddie’s throat to his utter embarrassment.

“D’ya like that idea, sweetheart?” Steve says, grinning mischievously. 

Eddie manages to scowl at him as they leave the steamy bathroom, and is dropped down onto the mattress soon after. 

“Aw shit!”

“What? What happened?”

It’s cold as shit, that’s what.” The air-cooled temperature of the covers against his skin has him breaking out in goosebumps.

Steve winces, “Sorry, I didn’t think about that.”

What was calm and collected confidence flickers off his face, and Eddie can’t have that. “Jus’ come over here and warm me up, big bo–wait,” He sits up and stops Steve when only one of his knees has made it onto the bed. “Lemme look at you.” 

He looks down at Steve, and yep. Big Boy is very accurate. He’d felt it against him already, Steve’s too-gorgeous-to-be-real dick; he’s longer for sure, cut and curved up like something out of a wet dream. 

“Oh, definitely big boy,” Eddie grins, looking up at Steve’s somewhat embarrassed expression.

“It’s nothing special.” he shrugs, his cheeks heating up as he climbs up Eddie’s damp body. He lowers himself down lay between his legs, his dick slotting itself beside Eddie’s once again.

He hunches over to kiss lightly up the scars on Eddie’s left side, lips brushing along the healed edge of the biggest one. It tickles, then it doesn’t, then does, then doesn’t, his lips pressing halfway onto skin and halfway onto puckered pink flesh.

“Steve..”

“Yeah baby?” he responds after a few more kisses.

“You’re giving me more goosebumps.” Eddie says, somewhat breathless.

Another kiss, “Mmmm.. You’re welcome.”

That shocks a laugh out of him, “You’re such a dork.”

Steve takes one of Eddie’s hands where it lays on the mattress, lacing their fingers together and pressing them back into the mattress beside his head.

“Says you.” he affirms, locking those ridiculous hazel eyes on his.

Eddie’s about to crack off another one liner, say something to…all that, but it’s completely erased from his mind when Steve ducks his head down to find his nipple again.

“Oh fuckin–nnng..” his hips buck up hard into Steve’s, who presses down into him in return.

He can feel it when Steve grins against his skin. “Shut up, asshole, that fee–ee–els so good.”

“Hmm, tell me about it, baby.” He’s grinding down slowly now, adding to the exponentially increasing Steve-addled brain fog he’s currently experiencing.

“Ahhh—I want to but–”

“But what?” Steve’s breath over the spit-slick spot on his chest sends a chill through him. 

“Oh fuck–If any of them hear us, we’re never going to hear the end of it.” he tries to warn around another stifled moan.

The Menace is undeterred, swirling his tongue around the little nub open-mouthed and hot once more before moving upwards, trailing his lips up Eddie’s breastbone until he’s sucking kisses into his throat once again. He continues up along the length of his neck until he reaches his ear, “Then you’d better keep it down, huh?”

Well that didn’t help. He lets out a long moan in response, clamping a hand over his mouth way too late.

“You sound so good though,” Steve says, continuing his slow grinding, “I can’t wait to get you alone so I can fuck you properly.”

That pulls another moan from behind Eddie’s palm. “Jesus H. Christ,” Eddie bucks his hips up as much as he can, but Steve's palms move down to hold him in place.

“Can’t have that now, can we?” Steve chides, trailing his lips down his stomach as he slides back to the edge of the bed, his eyes locked on Eddie’s.

“Wh–Why not?”

“Because I’d prefer,” a kiss above his belly button, “to choke,” a kiss below, “on my own accord.”, then swallows Eddie down in one go.

“Oh fffuuck—”

Steve hums in agreement around Eddie’s dick and the vibrations course up his spine to rattle around in his brain.

“Oh shit, Stevie, that feels so fuckin’ good.” He breathes, twisting his fingers into Steve’s hair.

In response, Steve starts to bob his head, swirling his tongue around Eddie’s on the upstroke, and sucking with fervor on the down.

“Steve, sweetheart–fuck–if you keep going I’m gonna—haah—”

“And what if I want you to?”

“And what if I want to to-together?”

Steve releases him with a wet pop, kissing his way back up to Eddie’s lips, humming in satisfaction when he reaches them, like kissing Eddie is the best part of all this.

And doesn’t that make his head spin.

“All you’d have to do is ask.”

Eddie pulls Steve back to his lips and bucks up into him again. “That’s me asking.”

Steve grins down at him and re-starts his slow, tortuous pace.

He’s rock hard against Eddie’s thigh, and this is getting fuckin’ ridiculous.

“Alright, you know what,” Eddie pushes his hips up hard and flips them over, straddling Steve’s thighs in no time at all.

“Holy shit—“ Steve blinks up at him in astonishment, like he’s surprised that he’s been flipped so easily.

 Eddie grinds down onto Steve, “You don’t get to tease me like that, big boy.”

“Is that so?” He chuckles, then groans when Eddie wraps his hand around their lengths. His hands grip onto Eddie’s thighs, squeezing tight to match the hold on them.

Eddie fucks forward into his fist, pulling his hand down to meet each thrust and watching as Steve’s head drops back onto the mattress.

He lets out a long groan. “Eddie…”

“Yeah, Stevie?”

Eddie runs his fingers over both their heads, adding to the slight slip of pre with a well aimed glob of spit that makes Steve hum out a short breathy moan as it makes contact with his head.

More noises of appreciation are pulled from the man under him as he rubs the pad of his thumb through the mess and under the head of Steve’s cock in small circles.

“Mmhm oh fuck..”

“You like that?”

“Mmhmm,” he nods dazedly “Keep moving though, feels so good, Eds.”

“You got it, sweetheart.” Eddie grins, wrapping his palm around them again and pushes forward into his fist.

Steve’s head drops back onto the pillow beneath him, “Just like that Eddie, fuck.” 

He gives them a few more strokes, then Steve’s hands start to move; his warm palms skirt along the wiry hair on his legs, one traveling around to grab onto Eddie’s horribly non-existent ass, and the other comes up to his remaining nipple, pinching it between two digits.

That did it. The hot coil of pleasure already broiling in his stomach twists even tighter. “Ahh—Stevie..I’m so close, Jesus Christ…”

“Me too..”

“Yeah? Well c’mon sweetheart, give it to me.”

A scant two passes of his hand later, Steve shoots hot across his stomach, and Eddie follows a half stroke later. 

He sinks down to the bed against Steve’s heaving ribs, tucking his shoulder under the other man’s arm.

After a few more breaths, Steve pulls Eddie into him and presses his lips to Eddie’s still-damp forehead.

“Ew gross, don’t do that, I’m all sweaty.”

“Don't care.” Steve mumbles softly into his hairline.

In return, Eddie wipes his soiled hand off on Steve’s stomach.

“Ew! Gross!” Steve laughs, shoving Eddie away with no actual intent behind it.

A few minutes later, Steve breaks the comfortable silence. “So,”

The word sinks heavily into Eddie’s gut. “So?”

When Steve doesn’t continue, Eddie turns his head to find Steve gazing at him with soft eyes, and even softer smile.

It morphs into a teasing smirk. “Did it live up to the hype?”

—--

One snooze and another heated shower later, Eddie crawls back into their bed and gets comfy while he listens to Steve pull his clothes back on to go down to the main lodge for the hellions.

He hears a short shuf when Steve’s leg skirts around the end of the bed. “I’ll be back in 15,” he says, kissing the damp hairs on Eddie’s temple. “Go to sleep, Eds.”

“Hmmm…” he hums in return, cozy as ever, and is out as soon as the door clicks shut.

Too soon, the sounds of the shitheads scrambling into the house interrupts his dozing, the door to the bedroom squeaking open not long after.

“Eds? You awake?”

Instead of answering, Eddie simply opens his arms.

He listens to Steve strip off his clothes, beckoning the man forward again when he feels the end of the mattress sink under the other man’s weight. 

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’, hold your horses.”

“My horses have been patient enough.” Eddie grumbles as Steve finally shuffles between the sheets and into his waiting arms.

-x-X-x-

“Dude! What the hell happened to your neck?! Did you get attacked by a vampire?”

“Henderson, you are way too loud for how early it is.”

“It’s 10 am, Eddie.”

“Exactly.” the barstool creaks as he climbs onto it, gratefully accepting the plate of eggs and bacon Argyle passes him.

“Leave him alone, guys.” Steve says, coming up behind Eddie on his stool and kissing his cheek as he passes into the kitchen with his empty plate.

There’s three whole seconds of silence before the younger teens burst out into a cacophony of various outbursts.

“Aw, what? Eddie! Steve’s way too lame for you to be dating!”

“Steve, did you fuck my DM?!”

“I fuckin’ knew it. I told you they’d get together, didn’t I? Dustin, you owe me 10 bucks.”

“I don’t owe you shit, Maxine.”

“Holy shit, congrats guys.” Lucas is his new favorite… Will and El too, nodding along to Sinclair’s assessment.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough; All those heading back to the waterpark better be ready to go in T-minus three minutes otherwise I’m leavin’ without you.” Steve calls out over the noise.

The complaints follow him out of the kitchen and into the tiny laundry room off the entryway.

“Why don’t you guys get yelled at?” Eddie grumbles, poking up a forkful of egg.

Robin snorts a laugh, “Because none of us are sleeping with the babysitter.”

okay, some notes:

steve's mom is a lawyer in this canon and she's the one who paid for eddie's legal counsel/helped with clearing his name after s4

wha?? steve harrington has good parents?? insanity

"canon" hawkins is about an hour outside of indianapolis so i used shelbyville, indiana as my base and from there to boyne mountain is about a 7 hour drive. if they left at 6 am from hawkins, they'd get to the resort around 1 or 2 and have a good couple hours to ski before it gets dark again at 6 (daylight hours in the midwest during winter are a bitch.)

i did way too much research into the ski resort i based this at, only to realize that neither the cabin itself OR the waterpark were there in the 80s. so...let's all just pretend, okay?

the map above is a trail map of the resort from 1985

when i asked my husband what i should add to 'my most recent blorbos' he said 'nice tits!' so that's why that line lmao

who'da thought this'd go from skiing to shower sex? cause i didn't

i got stuck on the smut part of this for way too long and i am so glad i am a) done with it and b) that it actually turned out relatively coherent.

on that note though, i have been looking at this damn fic for so so long that i don't know if it's actually good or what. 'cause to me, it's complete garbled garbage

the title of this is from 'Object of My Desire' by Starpoint

lex i am so sorry this is late ilysm 🫶

#spicysixwinterfanworkschallenge #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steveddie #eddeve #background ronance #background jargyle #i also implied: #lumax #henderhop #and #byler #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #argyle #mike wheeler #will byers #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #el hopper #dustin henderson #st #stranger things #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #skiing

[lavenderlegends]

sterek + “And you can't see me wanting you the way you want her, but you are everything to me”

you are everything to me

ao3

"What are you doing?" a familiar voice comes, forcing Derek to tear his eyes off the dance floor to look at Lydia's raised eyebrow. He leans his back against the bar.

"Nothing," he mutters. "Just waiting for your drink."

"You mean... the one in your hand?" Lydia asks, looking pointedly at the drink he's holding.

"Oh! Right. Here." He shoves it into her hand. "Leave it alone, Lyds."

"I didn't say a word!" she protests, but they both know. His eyes slide across the room to the dance floor.

Stiles fucking Stilinski dances with Caitlin, his head tossed backwards in laughter, as he slips his hands around her waist and pulls her closer.

"But," Lydia says, interrupting again, "... if I were to say something, it'd be this: you should just tell him how you fucking feel."

Derek scoffs. "I don't know what you mean."

"You do. You're just too stubborn and scared to do something about it." Lydia hums before she says, "I'm going back to make-out with your sister."

"Lydia, god!" Derek says, cringing. He shakes his head, and watches as she sways to the music while she walks back to their table. He should join everyone, but they can be so overwhelming sometimes. And he really doesn't want to watch Lydia and Cora make out. Derek sighs before turning back towards the bar. At least he can pretend to be interested in the hockey game playing on the screen. It's a recap of the game from earlier, but that doesn't matter.

He takes at least three shots of tequila before he makes his way back to the table.

"Derek!" Erica exclaims in excitement when he sits down beside her. She throws her arms around his shoulders, and he can smell the alcohol on her breath. "Did you know that Boyd is going to propose to me soon?!"

"What are you talking about?" Derek asks, carefully tugging Erica off him. He glances around, but Boyd's at the other end of the long table talking with Scott and Isaac.

"Call it a girl's intuition," Erica says, grinning. She winks at him. "And I may have found the ring in his underwear drawer when I was looking for my favourite pair of his boxers."

Derek forces a smile on his face. "That's exciting, Erica."

"Isn't it?" she asks, beaming. She looks over at Boyd, and the love is clear as day on her face.

He can't help but admire their relationship. Even if he usually feels jealous. It's hard to be anything but happy for them. They haven't always had the easiest of paths - when Erica came out as a woman, a lot of people in her life had a hard time adjusting. But Boyd was at her side, steady as a rock. He calmly explained to ignorant people, punched a guy or two, but not once, did he ever waver in his obvious love for her.

Derek tunes out when Erica and Kira start giggling. He tries not to look at Lydia making out with Cora, as promised, and lets himself have one more moment.

He watches as Stiles moves his hips closer to Caitlin. They've been messing around for a few weeks now, Derek thinks. He's not entirely sure how serious she is about Stiles, but he's pretty sure that Stiles is serious about Caitlin. He keeps talking about how she just 'opened up his world.'

A hand clasps Derek's shoulder suddenly and he looks up to see Jackson towering over him. "You good, man?"

"Yeah," Derek says, trying to repress the urge to sigh again. He gives Jackson a tight smile. "Just not feeling like the drinking scene tonight. Might grab an Uber home."

Jackson squeezes his hand on Derek's shoulder before saying, "Do what you gotta do, man."

"Thanks."

Jackson swings around to the other side of the table to sit beside Kira. He gives her a small kiss on the cheek, something only they really do in their group of friends. Derek doesn't get their friendship, or even how they got so close considering they'd only met Kira a few months ago, but he's not going to question it anymore tonight.

He stands up, staggering a little, and gives the table a small nod. "I'm heading out. Early day tomorrow."

"Really?"

Derek startles at the sound of Stiles' voice. He turns and shrugs. "Yeah. Looks like you're having fun on your own anyway."

Stiles glances at Caitlin grabbing water at the bar before he says, "Oh, right. Sure. Um. See you later?"

Derek nods and, without another word to anyone, despite their protests, leaves.

○○○

"You really should just tell him," Lydia hisses at their friendsgiving a month later.

"Tell him what, Lydia? That I'm obsessed with him? That I replay every interaction over and over in my head? That I can't get his lips out of my head?" Derek snaps. "Because I think the fact that he brought a date to friendsgiving is a good sign that it's not going to happen. He doesn't see me like anything but a friend."

Lydia takes a small step back, and quietly says, "But... what if he's just messing around because he thinks you're not into him?"

Derek snorts. "Yeah, okay. Not sure what universe you're living in."

Just then, Stiles bounds over to them. "Hey, guys! Have you heard from Danny yet? He's flying back in from New York to surprise Jackson."

Derek shakes his head, glancing at Lydia who checks her phone.

"Nope," she says. "But speaking of Jackson, I need to talk to him. Excuse me."

Lydia walks away, back towards the living room, leaving Derek and Stiles alone in the kitchen.

"How are you doing?" Stiles asks, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"Fine, I guess. You?" Derek asks, bringing his whiskey glass to his lips. This is painful. He can't even be normal around Stiles anymore. It hurts too much.

"Fine, I guess," Stiles echoes. He frowns, his eyebrows coming together. "What's been up with you lately? You're so... distant. I feel like we never hang out anymore. And like, no offense to everyone else, but you're kind of my best friend, dude."

Dude. Derek takes a deep breath and says, "Nothing. Work's just been busy, that's all. Besides, you've been glued to Caitlin's hip."

Stiles tilts his head. "Wait, what does Caitlin have to do with this?"

"I don't know. You tell me." Derek steps forward, ready to brush past Stiles, but then Stiles puts his hand on Derek's shoulder and he freezes at the touch.

"Derek, c'mon. You can trust me. Tell me anything. I promise." Stiles' eyes plead with him.

"It's really nothing," Derek mumbles. He closes his eyes briefly before adding, "Like I said, work's been busy."

"Oh. Okay." Stiles lets him go. And just like that, Derek's heart breaks all over again.

Derek makes his way back to the living room, and accidentally, gets caught up in a small group with Caitlin. He tries to politely excuse himself, but before he can, Caitlin says, "Do you all know if Malia is single?"

He freezes.

"No, she's not. She's actually dating Kira," Erica says, glancing curiously at Derek. "Why... why do you ask?"

Caitlin pouts. "Oh. No, I just... had a crush on her. No biggie though. I'm not here to step on any toes."

Derek would scoff if his mind wasn't racing. Before he can stop himself, he blurts, "Aren't you dating Stiles?"

"Stilinski?" Caitlin asks, before she bursts into laughter. "What? Oh my god, no. He was just trying to help cheer me up after a brutal break-up. He doesn't even know that I've been eyeing his friend."

Derek can't catch his thoughts.

It's been two months. Two months of Stiles and Caitlin being so close. Two months of Derek mourning what could have been. Two months of him breaking his own heart over a misunderstanding and an assumption.

"Excuse me," he says, ignoring Erica's confused expression. He turns and immediately, his eyes lock onto Stiles' from across the room. Stiles' eyebrows come together. Derek nods towards the kitchen door and Stiles doesn't say a word to Laura and Cora as he leaves them.

"What's wrong?" Stiles whispers once he's in the kitchen behind Derek. Derek turns around, his eyes wide.

"Are you single?" he asks.

Stiles jerks his head back in surprise. "Uh, yeah. Hello? Have you met me? No one wants to put up with this ADHD mess of a human. Besides, I've been told I talk too much, and I'm just... y'know, too much in general. And--"

"Stiles," Derek interrupts.

He stills, staring at Derek. "What? Why did you ask anyway?"

"Stiles, I..."

"Wait. Did you think I was dating Caitlin?"

Sometimes, Stiles is too quick for his own good. Derek drags a hand through his hair. "Well... yeah."

Stiles scoffs. "Is that why you've been so distant and weird?"

"Sort of. I just wanted to give you space," Derek mumbles. "I mean, before she started hanging around us... you and I used to spend every minute together. And... and, I don't know!"

"Derek," Stiles says, quietly. Derek freezes again. "Why... why would you care?"

"Why?" Derek mutters. "What a great question. Why. Why would I care. I don't. I mean, I do. But I don't--I don't know, okay?"

"Yes, you do."

And here he is, doing it again. Stiles always knows how to push Derek's buttons. And maybe that's a good thing. Derek swallows, and quietly says, "You're my everything, Stiles. I...I gave you space with Caitlin because I couldn't handle seeing you two together. I couldn't--it just--it broke my heart, and--"

Stiles' smile could light up the whole goddamn city. Derek's heart pounds. "Derek. You know I'm in love with you, right?"

"Wha--"

"Have been since I was sixteen." Stiles shrugs. "Haven't you noticed how little I bring people around to the group? It's because no one ever measures up to you. It's because you're my everything. I just figured you'd never look at me like that."

"Wait," Derek starts. "My brain is trying to catch up."

Stiles laughs, and it's a beautiful sound. Perhaps Derek's favourite sound.

"I love you, you idiot. You. No one else," Stiles says. He says it with so much confidence that Derek allows himself to believe it.

Just this once.

Derek leans forward, but is pushed back when Stiles tackles him and his lips. They're kissing. He's kissing Stiles fucking Stilinski. Derek almost laughs in joy and surprise and confusion and pure delight. But the sound is muffled by Stiles' kisses.

"Oh my god, finally!"

They break apart to see Lydia standing in the doorframe. She clasps her hands together and smiles. "Y'all, Derek and Stiles are making out!"

"Lydia!" Derek hisses.

She sticks her tongue out while there are cheers and calls from the other room. Lydia winks. "I'll leave you two boys to it. When you come up for air, can you check on the pies? They're warming in the oven. Okay, love you, bye!"

And she slips back into the living room.

There's a moment of silence.

And then Derek finds himself laughing. And Stiles is laughing. And together, they laugh in between kisses, and everything feels right for the moment.

○○○

thanks for reading! I'm rusty, so please forgive me.

#text #sterek #sterek fic #sterek ficlet #stiles stilinski #derek hale #taylor swift lyrics #my writing

[stabbyfoxandrew]

good morning and happy wipwednesday <3

I'm so happy to see you're excited to write this week and I'll humbly request arsonist!neil

also happy valentines day (if that's what people say we don't really have that in my country) <3

WIP Wednesday (2/14) | Arsonist Neil / Firefighter Andrew AU (Part 95)

As usual, Andrew is the first to board the Fire Bus. He taps his foot against the floorboard and waits for a couple minutes before the rest of his motley crew finally get their ducks in a row. Boyd is the next to show, dropping into the driver’s seat like a block of lead. He turns the engine over and starts tapping an address into the GPS monitor. Andrew doesn’t give it a second thought, until Renee climbs up. 

She glances up into the front and gasps, “Matt, are we going to St. Agnes’?”

Ah, that’s why it was familiar.

“Uh, yeah.” Boyd says, half turning in his seat.

Renee’s eyes widen and her hand comes to cover her mouth. “Oh no. Did they say how bad?”

“No, but it’s gonna be fine. Best in the business on our way,” Boyd smiles. “As soon as my wife gets in here.”

The passenger door opens and Wilds hops in as if on cue. “I’m ready, let’s roll.”

“It’ll be alright, Renee.” Andrew says softly. Renee nods, then says something under her breath that must be a prayer.

—

There is not a fire at St. Anges’. There is nothing at all going on at St. Agnes’, well except for Mass. Andrew isn’t exactly sure what that means, but when the truck rolls up an old guy wearing robes comes out.

“There isn’t any fire. I don’t know who could’ve called that in.” He says, looking confused. “Service is just about to start, if you’d like—”

At that, Andrew turns on his heel and returns to his beloved backseat. He’d rather lick the trucks’ tires— all six of them— than listen to that. He sighs and pulls off his coat to drop it on the bench beside him. False alarms are better than having to stand in an inferno for hours, Andrew thinks. If his evening is going to be free, he can spend it talking to a certain idiot instead.

It only takes a couple more minutes for the rest of the team to return. And once they’re inside, Boyd starts up the truck— again— and turns them back towards the station. Renee gives Andrew a look before shaking her head.

“What.”

“You know what. That was really rude. Father Paul is very nice.”

“He’s not my Father,” Andrew says, crossing his arms. “And I don’t see why he felt the need to invite us in. We aren’t vampires. Or are we?”

“Andrew,” Renee rolls her eyes, then laughs. 

“Perhaps St. Agnes put out the fire for us,” Andrew says, contemplatively. “Can’t saints do that kind of thing?”

“Actually… Maybe. But St. Florian is the saint of firefighters,” Renee says.

“And Agnes is what? The saint of golfers?”

“Nope. Rape survivors."

“Oh." Andrew sits there with his foot in his mouth for a second. "Well, good for her.”

#andreil #aftg #WIP Wednesday #Arsonist Neil / Firefighter Andrew #🕊️ #answered #tisaqslur #long part for you beloved! also <33333 #long post #this part got away from me. i don't even know why i wrote it but i think i like it. #not sure if i will include it in like The Final Fic?? but!!! renee and andrew interactions :D

[heliads]

Hi I hope you’re doing well! Can I request a Derek Hale imagine where the reader is Derek’s beta then after Boyd and Erica dies, and Isaac leaves, reader tells/assures him that they’ll never leave him even when he’s not an alpha anymore. Thank you!

yes yes yes

masterlist

Derek Hale is alone when you finally manage to find him. Technically, you’ve had a guess as to where he’s been for a while, but you haven’t really wanted to see this moment until now. Some tender spark of guilt wraps itself around your throat, tearing you down from the inside out. You may not be the ones who left, but you still feel bad about all of this.

It’s not that you’ve tired of Derek’s company, not like the rest. It’s just that, well, you don’t know how to make all of this better, and to you, that’s almost the same as making it worse. If you can’t turn Derek’s resolutely grim stare into something that almost could be happiness, then what is the point of you? You certainly can’t figure that out.

Maybe Derek can, though, because you can hear his heart rate pick up slightly the second you open the door to his apartment. The lights are all off, although the night is still sufficiently far away that an adequate amount of sunlight can brighten the place up. The sun is there, if you look for it, not quite hidden behind a bay of clouds. It reaches through the windows, running over floor panels and walls until you’re forced to see its brilliance.

Even then, this whole place still feels abandoned and alone. You can see, sure, but that doesn’t make it any less dark or gloomy. Derek is sitting on the ground at the far side of his living room, leaning against the wall as he stares out the floor to ceiling windows. You wonder what he’s looking for, if he thinks that with all his enhanced sight he’ll be able to witness his own wolves leaving the pack.

That’s why you’re here, after all, because you’ve heard that the last of them have finally left. Erica was the first to die, lucky girl, then Boyd, lonely no more. Those hurt more than anything; you could feel Derek’s grief carving at your skin like knives. That was supposed to be the end of the loneliness. The rest of Derek’s pack were supposed to close their gates, shoulder up for the coming storm and pretend that no one else mattered.

That’s what Derek has taught you, at any rate. He’s shown you what it’s like to be alone, how much one person matters when it means saving you from the relentless solitude. Derek expected Erica and Boyd to be the last ones to leave, even if his conscience warned him that Isaac would go as well. He’s not used to kindness, not after all of his years here. The same sentiment applies to almost everyone else.

Still, Isaac is gone now. He was on the fence for a while now, hanging around more and more often with Scott McCall’s pack as if he could switch teams like a star player. Derek didn’t mind it then; Isaac was still his beta, and could be called back to Derek’s side if the situation so required it. Knowing that members of your pack are in town is a lifesaver, a painkiller for the suffering. You can feel their heartbeats somewhere across the streets, you know that you are not alone.

Neither you nor Derek have that salvation now. Losing Allison took the last of Isaac’s heart from him, and he can’t stand to be in this same place without her. Derek may have given him a new purpose in giving him the bite, but Allison made it all worthwhile. At the end of the day, Allison Argent was the reason Isaac stood up and took a punch, and without her, who could he possibly be?

You were there to watch Isaac’s plane take off. Derek was too, although he didn’t show up with you. You’re fairly certain that he spoke to his beta before Isaac left. You don’t know the exact words spoken, but you can imagine that it was something along the lines of a final goodbye and one last offer for the younger boy to stay. Isaac isn’t used to getting help, even after all this time; he would have left without another word.

Derek, too, always an island, wouldn’t have spared the blond boy much of his sympathy, at least not to his face. After the plane took off, you could feel the surge of emotion building in Derek’s throat, the sheer pain of losing yet another member of his pack. Isaac might have been Derek’s favorite, he was kind in a way that Derek hadn’t managed to be in a long time. At the end of the day, Derek looked at Isaac and could barely see himself, and that’s what he liked the most.

Your favorite Hale is alone now, alone except you. You’ve wondered if you would leave at some point, too, if Derek would want a fresh start after everything. You like Beacon Hills too much to leave, though. Besides, you like Derek too much as well. The second you try to think about life without him, it’s as if your entire mind shuts down. No, you won’t be leaving Derek.

That isn’t to say that Derek won’t be leaving you, though. You can feel Derek’s walls rebuilding themselves even as they crumble to ash. He doesn’t like being alone, it reminds him of a certain fire, a certain pack destroyed. Every time he tries to make a life for himself, a pack to make him feel like he won’t be damned to constant loneliness, something comes around to stop it. Derek has always been a fighter, but you can’t help but wonder if this might be the one incident that finally takes the last of his spirit, and snuffs him out like a flame.

That’s why you’re here, in part, to see if Derek is any more than a broken shell. He won’t show this side of himself to anyone else, because appearances still are everything even if that runs contrary to anything he has ever told you, but it’s true.

You walk further into the apartment, seeing him at last. You’ve been hearing him for quite some time, the exhausted rattle of his breath, the melancholy beat of his heart, but at last he’s here before you. Derek raises his head to stare at you, green eyes so pale they almost seem clear.

“Are you leaving too?” He asks, voice somewhat cynical.

You shake your head, crossing the room until you stand only a few paces away. “No. I wanted to see if you were.”

Derek chuckles, and you realize that he has a glass bottle at his side, half full. Werewolves can’t get drunk, but you can’t blame Derek for trying again. Who hasn’t, when faced with a future like this?

“The Hales are too connected to Beacon Hills for me to leave. I couldn’t go anywhere else if I tried.”

Neither of you ask if he has tried before, you’re almost certain that he has. In a way, getting a new pack was Derek’s attempt at it, like keeping a new family around would convince him that he’s somewhere except this endless graveyard. In the end, it didn’t work. Nothing ever does. Time comes and goes, and the wolves always stay where they are. So much for that story about lone wolves always dying off; no one’s safe, not even those in packs.

You shake your head. “There are more types of leaving than just packing your bags.”

Derek lets out a slow breath, then gestures for you to take a seat next to him. You do so without hesitating, and stretch out on the floor next to him, staring out the windows. It’s a wonderful view, although you don’t think Derek’s noticed it for a while.

After a minute or two, Derek speaks again. “Why haven’t you left?”

Everyone else has, he means. In truth, you don’t really have a good explanation outside of what feels right to you, and this does. You tell him as much.

Derek tilts his head to the side, considering this as he continues to stare at the setting sun. The golden light cascades over him, drenching his hair in gold. It drips from him, this liquid brightness, highlighting nothing but how changed he is from the man you used to know. This is a ghost of somebody you once knew, scarcely more than a memory. Maybe Derek already has left, the last of his ambitions gone with Isaac on that plane.

“This feels right, then? All of our friends leaving without a thought for us?”

You can see Derek’s lips purse as he asks the questions, already regretting the coldness of his tone. If he thinks that a few sharp words are all it takes to convince you to go, though, he’s more wrong than he thinks.

“They did what feels right for them. What feels right for me is staying to protect this town. Enough happens here that I couldn’t leave in good conscience. Also, I happen to like the people who stayed. I’m not leaving them either.”

Derek glances at you at last, tearing his gaze away from the town unfurling before him. Is he looking for his future in the plain of your brow, the curve of your cheekbones? You don’t know if he sees what he wants, but it appears to be good enough for him, because he keeps looking, again and again until you think he must be able to see every facet of your soul.

“And what about me? An alpha without a pack. Why would you stay for me?” He asks. It’s not done out of pity, in some search for compliments, but out of genuine curiosity.

You have an answer, you always do. “You stayed for me a long time ago. You gave me the bite when I needed it most. That was a lifesaver, Derek, even if you didn’t realize it. I don’t care if you started this pack because you wanted the power, it was still everything to me. I’m not going to leave if I could return the favor.”

He nods slowly. “You already are everything to me.”

You laugh, the sound bittersweet. “What, because I’m the last one standing?”

Derek shakes his head once. “You always have been.”

You tilt your head back, then realize what he means. “Ah.” 

A quiet sigh.

This is it, then. This is why he’s been truly upset. Losing Erica, Boyd, and Isaac cut like a blade, that much is obvious. It’s hurt you, and you weren’t even their alpha. What Derek Hale has feared most, though? That’s what he thought he saw when you first walked into his apartment. He has faced hunters, death, impossible odds a thousand times, but the thing that scares him the most is the thought that you would leave him too.

All this, and you still smile back at him. “I’m not going anywhere, Derek. I promise.”

A corner of his mouth tugs up. “You know, you really shouldn’t make promises like that. It’s just tempting fate.”

You stand by your words. “Let fate do what it wishes. I don’t intend on breaking that promise.”

Derek cocks his head to the side. “And what if you do?”

You return his stare, as resolute as always. “Then I suppose you’ll have to come find me.”

Derek smiles at last. “I can do that.”

You don’t know how long it will take for the weight of Isaac’s departure to leave you, nor the grief of losing Erica and Boyd. You do know that Derek will be able to handle it, though, as will you. You’ll do it the way you always have, the way you’ve fought hunters and supernatural threats and everything else that threatens to ruin you: together.

teen wolf tag list: @thatfangirl42, @rogueanschel, @lovesanimals0000, @rafecameronswhore, @bellabadacadabra, @watchreadfangirlrepeat

#derek hale #derek hale imagines #derek hale x reader #derek hale oneshot #teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf oneshot #teen wolf derek #teen wolf derek imagines #teen wolf derek x reader #teen wolf derek oneshot

[cosmic-eye]

Psychonauts the Musical Act II

because I guess this is a thing now. Act I here.

Lungfishopolis: I don't have a good song title here either --- a song with two parts; one mindless & the other a powerful revolt song --- The lungfish citizens start a short, monotone song praising Kochamera, but the appearance of Goggalor interrupts before it can really begin. The resistance members then pick up the song, singing with real emotion their desire for freedom. It cuts for Raz to fight Kochamera, then resumes even more triumphant once he wins. The song then turns to

Linda's song: "Unchained Soul" --- not very long, but not lacking in spirit --- Linda thanks Raz for helping her reclaim her freedom. She tells Raz how she was a normal lungfish until Loboto & Oleander mutated her as she takes him across the lake.

Note: Linda herself does not sing until after Raz frees her, like how she doesn't talk until then in the game. In this case, singing = freedom.

Milkman Conspiracy: "Beware of Cows" --- a patter song, fast and chaotic --- Boyd rants about his various conspiracy theories, becoming increasingly jumpy as he goes.

Milkman Conspiracy: "Special Delivery" --- You know the music that plays when Milkman Boyd hurls flaming bottles at the censors? It's just that. --- Realizing he's the milkman, Boyd voices his intent to burn down the asylum, while Raz frantically tries to convince him not to.

Gloria's Theater: "Happy Flowers" (yep that's another title I'm snagging from the ost, I just like it okay?) --- operatic recitative/Sprechgesang/spoken singing --- As Raz navigates through the opera stages, the performers sing the events of Gloria's life.

Gloria's Theater: "Phantom" --- an operatic aria --- Jasper sings as Raz confronts him. A minor villain song.

Asylum grounds: Another currently nameless piece --- short, energetic --- Raz leaves Gloria's garden and enters a new area. Crispin chides Fred as he battles with himself/Napoleon, enraging an unseen Edgar. The song comes to a halt when Raz tries to sneak by Crispin to get to the elevator.

Waterloo World: "Battle with Sanity" --- Patriotic March Music, but with contradicting lyrics --- Fred sings about how useless he is and how it's pointless to try, with Napoleon countering when he can.

Waterloo World: "Me Again." After Raz breaks Fred out of his learned helplessness, Fred's voice comes back with strength & determination. Ends with him saying he needs a nap.

Black Velvetopia: "House of Cards" --- traditional Spanish flamenco music, or something similar --- Starts with Edgar explaining that he can't reach Lampita, with Raz then setting off to find the queen cards. The bulk of the song is performed by the dog painters, with each adding to Edgar's story until the Dalmation reveals the truth.

Black Velvetopia: "Pathetic" --- almost like a cheerleader's song --- Lampita & Dingo harass Edgar as he battles Raz and then Dingo. Ends with Edgar realizing they're the pathetic ones, and turning the song around on them.

After this, Raz has his disguise, Crispin is taken care of, and the inmates start off. End of Act II. Act III coming soon.

#psychonauts #psychonauts the musical #i did leave linda out in the initial post because i wasn't quite sure what to do with her song but i think i figured it out here #these are just kind of ideas off the top of my head #edited this a bit to better fit with the other posts

[dreamlandforever]

@writersmonth Prompt: Day 29 - Fireflies

Fandom: Teen Wolf | Sterek WC: 1.2 K

AO3

XXIX. Fireflies

“Daddy, what’s she saying?” Eli asked, insistently pushing his mason jar against Stiles’ face. Stiles batted him away gently, doing his best not to throw the pan with their dinner to the floor.

“I don’t know, Eli.” Stiles answered, turning the stove off and turning to put his son back on the floor and making a mental note to re-arrange the kitchen so the kid cannot get on the counter this easily. He took the mason jar from Eli’s hand and looked at it, curiously. “Who took you firefly hunting?” Stiles asked, slightly unscrewing the lid so the firefly could breathe.

“Uncle Peter!” Eli answered excitedly, making grabby hands at Stiles for the jar. Stiles gave it back to his son, and turned to the big glass screen doors that lead to the backdoor, and, hence, the preserve.

“Derek Samuel Hale! Get…” He turned to his son and sighed dejectedly, forcing himself not to curse in front of him. “Get in here, Big Guy. You’re in big trouble.”  He finished lamely, counting until 10 before his boyfriend was entering the window.

“What’s wrong?” Derek asked, looking around the house curiously, probably looking for a mess that would definitely get Stiles screaming at him. 

“You were supposed to be watching Eli. Why was he on the counter asking about fireflies?” Stiles asked, arms crossed, and pointing at the jar Eli was proudly holding for both of them.

“Daddy has the gift of gab, Papa! Auntie Lydia said so. And light is a language. And so is gab, I asked!” He explained happily, forcing the jar into Stiles’ hands. 

Derek turned around to face the door to the kitchen, but Stiles could still very clearly hear the snort. He was so going to ask Lydia about that conversation later. “He was with Peter, Boyd, Jackson, Erica, Lydia, Isaac and me. He was very intrigued about the light, so Erica helped him trap them in one of the mason jars you use for jam. I’ll buy you a new one tomorrow.” Derek said unapologetically. 

“Honey,” Stiles said, getting eye level with his son, “the fireflies use the light to communicate among themselves, just like we use words. I can’t understand the firefly any better than they can understand us.” Stiles explained, handing the jar back to his kid. “It’s like when Papa decides that grunting is a language. No one understands him.” Derek side eyed Stiles at that, but let it go when Eli simply nodded like it made sense. He was done trying to win against his boyfriend and son. 

“Go away and send Scott in.” Stiles said simply, going back to the stove where his very not cooked chicken was still in the pan. 

“Peter said you were a blabbermouth. Lydia you said a gift. Erica said the gift of gab. They were defending you in their own way. I told them all to shut up, and then growled. I promise.” Derek said, hugging Stiles from behind. Stiles let his weight fall on his boyfriend, leaning against his chest.

“How loud?” He asked.

Derek chucked against his neck, making a shiver run down Stiles’ back. 

“Very loud. Eli gave me a 10.” Derek answered. And just before he was able to kiss Stiles’ neck. Or cheek. Or anywhere, really, he was reminded exactly where he was by Eli trying to get in between his legs. 

“I want to hug Daddy, too, move, Papa.” He instructed, pushing at Derek’s legs. Stiles barked out a laugh, but stood straight, going back to the kitchen, while Derek picked Eli up and got him closer to Stiles so Eli could hold on to his neck. Derek moved slightly so it was more of a hug than a chokehold, but Eli was very adamant in his strength. Stiles hugged him back, holding onto one hand to make sure he wasn’t actually choked. 

“Go help him catch more fireflies. When you come back I’ll teach you a bit more about them. Did you know that even their eggs glow?” Stiles asked, attention back on the food. A hungry Eli was an angry Eli, even if right now he was being very nice and happy. He took after Stiles in that regard.

“Really?” Eli asked excitedly, staring intently back at his two fireflies.

“It takes longer for them to lay eggs, Champ. But, yes, really. I’ll tell you more after you’re done and Papa gets you cleaned up for dinner.” 

Eli nodded violently, pointing at the back door so Derek could take him outside, like a very strict werewolf pilot. 

“I’ll send Scott your way, I guess.” His boyfriend said, planting a kiss on Stiles’ cheek and following Eli’s finger all the way back to the others.

It wasn’t even ten minutes before Scott was in the kitchen with him.

“What’s up, bro? Derek said you called?” Scott asked, looking at the now mostly ready chicken and going to get he rest of the ingredients for enchiladas.

“Yes, I need you to read me fireflies facts while I prepare the enchiladas, because I promised Eli.” Stiles said happily, handing Scott a spoonful of salsa so he could try it.

“Perfect, as always. And sure thing, man. You do know Derek got you an Alexa, right?”

“Yes, but you have a cuter voice, bro.” Stiles said with a wink.

Scott groaned loudly. “Isaac told you.”

“Of course Isaac told me! Why didn’t you?” Stiles half yelled at him, pointing a dripping spoon at him. 

“I didn’t want to get in trouble!” Scott defended himself, grabbing at the spoon with a napkin, trying to minimize the mess Stiles was making. “Isaac is such a tattletale. He does know you’re not his father and you aren’t allowed to ground him, right?” 

“I so can ground him. He’s Pack. And I can ground you, too, Mr. True Alpha. Now, you are going to look up facts for fireflies. And before each one, you’re going to tell me why in the world you thought it was a good idea to teach my son how to get on counters.” 

“I didn’t think about it! I did it, and then he tried it. He’s more stubborn than you, took him like five minutes to figure it out.” Scott groaned again. He was about to go on defending himself when Isaac walked in.

“Hey! I just need water. Eli is thirsty but he’s learning to count his fireflies. He was three, but he gets confused after one.” Isaac laughed, grabbing two water bottles from the pantry.

“Tattletale.” Scott mumbled at him. And it wasn’t until Stiles laughed out loud and Isaac looked at him like he had grown a third head that he realized his mistake. “Isaac didn’t tell you!” 

“Of course not, Scotty, he was outside. Eli quite literally decided to show me his fireflies by getting on the counter. Only other people to do that here are you and Jackson. And Jackson’s very…” Stiles interrupted himself, trying to find the right word.

“Psychotic?” Isaac provided, rather unhelpfully.

“Don’t be an ass, Isaac.” Stiles chastised. “He’s very protective of Eli. He wouldn’t do it in front of him.” 

“I gave myself away.” Scott said, shocked.

“You did. Now, facts and explanations.” Stiles said, busy slightly frying the tortillas in the sauce before making the enchiladas, the way Eli liked them. Kid was very against soggy food.

Isaac took the moment to silently leave the kitchen while Scott found very creative ways to convince Stiles he was making sure Eli could get out of trouble, and not trying to get him into trouble, and Stiles just couldn’t see it. For his own safety, Isaac knew being far, far away was the best choice.

#writersmonth2023 #writing prompt #jwritessometimes #sterek #teen wolf #eli hale

[amatchinwater]

Pairing: Stackson

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Jackson Whittemore, Donovan Donati, Vernon Boyd

Tags/warnings: hate speech/derogatory language, homophobia, homophobic language, Donovan just really sucks, mild violence (he got the back eye somehow)

Words: 2663

Prompt: BTHB square Black Eye

Ao3 link Masterlist

--

You’d really think Stiles would’ve learned by now. Coming out of the closet is not easy. That much he can give Donovan credit for. And in no way, shape, or form will you catch Stiles forcing the matter. As nice as it would be to be public with Donovan and whatever you’d classify their relationship as. That’s something to be done when and how the other boy feels comfortable, not Stiles.

All he can do is remind Donovan that he will be there as support when he’s ready. 

There’s just one tiny- okay major- problem. 

Stiles is beginning to suspect that Donovan might be homophobic. 

Even someone deep in the closet isn’t typically rude enough to shun someone in the halls. With something as simple as a hello or a small wave, Donati gives him this look. A nasty thing as if Stiles had spit in the boy’s face rather than offered pleasantries. And whenever he- politely- asks when they might put a label on them, even if in private, Donovan always has the same answer.

He’d rather be caught dead than with a guy.

But even with that, Stiles can’t bring himself to walk away. Call it codependency if you want, but he just doesn’t want to be alone. Granted, Stiles has his pack. Derek, Erica, Boyd, Isaac, and Jackson. But that’s not the same kind of companionship he’s looking for. 

So what’s a little heartache in exchange for the companionship he is looking for?

A small price.

At least that’s what Stiles usually tells himself. Because it’s not like he could just walk up to– no, he’s not going there. Stiles’ heart and brain are already damaged enough, there’s no need to add insult to injury here.

His phone dings in his pocket as he’s walking out of school. 

>>Usual spot, 5 mins

A demand, not a request. Stiles would be lying if he said that shit wasn’t getting on his last nerve. 

K<<

With a sigh, Stiles shoves his phone back in his pocket, knowing full and well he’s about to leave this situation feeling worse than better. Maybe being alone wouldn’t be such a bad thing. He probably wouldn’t feel sick every time he hears that text tone. 

When he gets to the music room, he can already see Donovan inside waiting for him. The other boy hasn’t noticed him yet, so Stiles takes a moment to try and turn his heart off. Can’t be affected by what you can’t feel. Right?

The music room makes sense as a good spot to meet up because ever since the teacher was killed last year, the school has yet to find a replacement. It’s never used. 

As much as Stiles doesn’t want to feel loneliness, he wishes he had the strength to end this. Whatever this is. 

Maybe one day. 

Stiles knocks twice, once, and then three times before opening the door. It’s a code Donovan made up to ensure they know who’s coming in. Especially since the boy’s locker room is only two doors over and lacrosse practice is going on right now.

But when their eyes meet, Stiles knows deep in his bones, if he’s ever getting out, he has to do it now. There’s so much anger in the other boy’s eyes. If they’re meeting up to make out, shouldn’t Donovan be at least a little happy? Not like he’s filled with resentment. 

Screw worrying about being alone. He’s got his pack and they love him. For now, it’s going to have to be enough. Because their love doesn’t come with a toxicity clause. It’s warm and genuine. 

“What took you so long?” Donovan snaps. 

Not out of worry if Stiles is okay. But for making him wait. For prolonging the risk of being caught. That much is evident in the way the other boy keeps looking behind Stiles, checking the window on the door for people passing by. 

No one suspects a goddamn thing between them. Well, Stiles is sure his pack has smelled Donovan on him after their encounters. But they’ve never said anything to anyone; not even Stiles. 

“I had to go the long way,” he explains, “the main entrance was already locked.” That’s not what he’s concerned about so Stiles adds, “no one saw me.”

“Good,” Donovan nods, “let’s hope not. I can’t be seen with you.” 

Charming.

How did Stiles not get sick of this sooner? 

Donovan quickly closes the distance between them, hands reaching out and eyes half closed. 

“No,” Stiles pushes against the other boy’s chest to keep distance. 

“What do you mean no?”

“I can’t do this anymore,” Stiles takes a step back, not liking the dark glare from those nearly black eyes. “I’m out. It’s more than okay that you’re not. But I’m tired of hiding who I am.”

Suddenly Donovan’s hands are around his throat, showing Stiles against the wall and forcing his tongue in his mouth.

Stiles’ face contorts, not even remotely kissing back and trying to push Donovan off. Stiles is all for a hand around his throat. But this hurts and he can’t fucking breathe, blackness beginning to shadow the edges of his vision.

“You’re disgusting, you know that?” Donovan sneers, wiping his mouth clean as if he wasn’t the one to force the kiss. 

Stiles should’ve bit the fucker. 

“Disgusting and so fucking wrong. Who are you going to turn to, huh? No one is going to want to touch someone like you.”

Stiles’ newfound backbone settles into place. He scoffs, “I’m wrong? Me? The only thing wrong here is you. Treating me like garbage when I actually liked you.” 

Donovan doesn’t take a moment to digest Stiles’ words or even have half of a thought. He just rears back and punches Stiles right in the face. Really fucking hard. The force makes Stiles stumble, lose his footing, and fall on the floor.

“Don’t be such a fag,” Donovan seethes before snatching his bag up and storming out of the room.

Stiles’ face is throbbing, one eye watering and stinging so badly he doesn’t even want to open it. Can’t. Collecting himself, he gets off the ground. Brushing his pants off, Stiles quietly leaves the room. Not once does he stop until he’s pulling his jeep into the driveway.

It’s not his first time taking a hit to the face, he used to play lacrosse for fuck’s sake. But it was the first in that setting. In that…way.

Silver lining? 

He’s free of Donovan.

Luckily, his dad was working a double shift last night, so he didn’t see the mess that was his son. And thankfully, with one sacrificial bag of frozen peas later, the swelling of Stiles’ eye went down. The small cut on his cheekbone is nothing of consequence. Something easily explained away by his clumsy nature. The major problem? 

The very obvious black eye.

Even Stiles isn’t graceless enough to give himself a shiner. Litter his arms, legs, and sides with them? For sure. But usually if he hits his face it was from doing something stupid like the one time he was trying to make a rubber band ball. He used too small of a band and when it snapped it got him right in the chin. A nice little cut that he wore for three days. But never a black eye. 

He avoided his pack last night so as not to cause any problems. Although Jackson, his childhood best friend, showed up at his goddamn house after practice. Stiles lied his ass off that he was nauseous and should be left alone. Not because Jackson might get sick. No, don’t worry, the jock reminded Stiles numerous times that he’s immune because he’s a werewolf. 

Stiles just kept pushing how gross it was and that his best friend didn’t need to see that.

Jackson responded in kind that nothing could be more gross than walking in on Stiles jerking himself off when they were going through puberty. Which, thanks. Great boost to his ego there, Jax, truly. In the end, the wolf backed off once Stiles promised he’d call if he needed anything. 

But now Stiles has to go to school. Lydia is off on some college tour, so it’s not like he can call her for a quick cover up. She and her makeup are states away. No staying home either. His dad would get a call at work and that’s just not something he wants to deal with. A small fib to Jackson is one thing, but Stiles is sure his dad is desensitized to his lies, it just wouldn’t work. 

Maybe he can get away with staying in the library or getting a note from the nurse. 

That’s probably the best course of action. If he tells the nurse he’s throwing up, they won’t call his dad and just let him leave. 

Stiles intends to do just that. He hides in the boy’s bathroom, waiting for the first bell to ring. He’s got his old, oversized lacrosse hoodie on to hide his face. But the fewer people in the halls, the better. It also runs less of a risk in seeing his pack right now. They would all collectively lose their minds.

Possibly their composure as well.

Jackson has proved since they were young that he won’t tolerate people bullying Stiles. Can’t threaten what you don’t know about though. Erica would burn the school down then ask what idiot hurt him. Boyd would just give them a Derek level death glare to ensure they never even looked at Stiles again. Isaac could go either way. It would depend on the situation. A black eye would probably constitute a broken bone or two.

Best to avoid them.

Or at least until tomorrow when Lydia and her makeup bag are back in Beacon Hills and can help Stiles cover this up. 

The bell rings, startling Stiles in the quiet stall. He waits until the voices have mostly ceased to poke his head out. But when he does, he catches a glimpse of Donovan walking towards his locker. Almost choking on a breathy squeak, Stiles disappears back into the bathroom. 

Not without hearing Jackson call, “Stiles?”

Fuck.

Stiles rushes back into the stall to hide. If anything, it’ll keep up the façade that he’s ill. Hell, he feels so nauseous after seeing Donovan that he might actually throw up from anxiety alone. 

The bathroom door opens and two sets of footsteps come in.

This is just not Stiles’ week.

“Stiles, what’s going on?” Jackson asks, voice full of concern.

It warms Stiles’ heart that his best friend cares this much. If Jackson wasn’t painfully straight, maybe the whole Donovn situation could’ve been avoided. 

Again, he’s not thinking about that.

“You can’t hide from me,” Jackson says, “even if I couldn’t smell you, I can hear your heartbeat anywhere. Come on out.”

That shouldn’t blanket Stiles’ heart the way that it does. Jax only means because they’re best friends. That’s it. Just friends.

“Stiles, we just want to make sure you’re alright,” Boyd adds, confirming the wonder of the second set of feet. “You know you can talk to us.”

They won’t leave without seeing him. Stiles knows they won’t. Time to face the music. Ever so slowly, he unlocks the door, stepping out hood up and chin tucked. “I don’t feel well, I’m just going to go home.”

“If you were sick, you could’ve just said so,” Boyd chuckles. 

Jackson snorts, “Well at least this time it sounds like the truth.” 

Without thinking, Stiles looks up to snap at the wolf, except doesn’t get a chance to speak. He immediately realizes his mistake.

Boyd mutters, “oh shit.”

Eyes flashing blue, Jackson snarls, “Who did it?” Despite his tone, he carefully grabs Stiles’ chin to get a better look.

“Just drop it, Jax,” Stiles jerks his head and shoves the wolf’s hand away. “It’s nothing,” he says, avoiding eye contact and keeping the black eye facing away from them. 

“Fuck that,” Jackson grabs his chin again, forcing eye contact while somehow remaining gentle. “Who. Did. It?” Every word is growled.

He’s pissed. Stiles may now hate Donovan, but he doesn’t want to see the guy dead. He fiddles with his fingers, not looking at either wolf. What Stiles wouldn’t give to not have a conscience right now. 

His best friend laughs humorlessly, “It was Donati, wasn’t it?”

Stiles says nothing. Not that it matters. He feels it the moment his heart betrays him with a skip. And the wolves definitely heard it too. 

“What are we doing?” Boyd asks, muscles flexing in his arms as he crosses them tighter.

“Find him,” Jackson growls. 

All it takes is a nod of his head towards Jackson and Boyd dutifully walks out. 

“I knew I should’ve snapped his neck when the whole thing started.” Jackson snorts, “and Erica said I was just being jealous.”

There’s so much to unpack in those two simple sentences.

“How did you possibly know?” Stiles opts for the least confusing of the wolf’s statements. “We were so careful.”

Jackson’s face is as deadpan as his tone, “It’s like you forget I’m a werewolf or something. As if I couldn’t hear the two of you if practice got out early. Even then, we can all smell him on you.”

Right.

That’s totally a thing Stiles thought about, he’s just still confused right now.

His best friend laughs at the face Stiles pulls. “Come on, let's get you to Derek’s where you’ll be safe until Boyd finds Donati. Get you something for that cut too.”

The care from the wolf and the gentle way Jackson wraps his arm around Stiles’ shoulder almost has him forgetting the other comment.

“Hang on,” Stiles shrugs his arm off, facing the wolf. He simply cannot get the thought of Jackson being jealous out of his head. Stiles can feel it niggling away at his brain. 

He has to ask before his mind actually combusts.

“Why did Erica say you were jealous? Did you think he was going to steal your best friend away or something?” It’s the most logical reason he can think of.

“I–” Jackson looks away, his eyes trailing back slowly, uttering a soft, “No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Then–” Stiles’ heart slams in his ribcage, he can’t breathe. Does Jackson like Donovan? Had Stiles been wrong about the wolf’s sexual preferences all along? He clears his throat, doing his best not to stutter, asking “Then why?”

“Are you really going to make me spell it out?” Jackson asks with no heat. Not even the usual sarcasm in his tone that they share can be found.

Stiles flails his arms. Because obviously yes, he’s missing something here. 

“That would be nice, yes.”

Jackson chews his lip, contemplating his words. Stiles can see the war raging in his best friend’s mind behind beautiful blue eyes. The wolf growls. 

“Screw it,” he says, cupping Stiles’ cheeks and slamming their mouths together.

Holy shit.

Holy fucking shit!

Holy shit!

He could’ve had Jackson! Stiles didn’t have to be lonely? His gorgeous best friend has feelings for him and Stiles had no idea the wolf even liked guys. He would’ve tried something. Flirted at the very least. Can you blame him? Even someone blind would know Jackson is stunning. And he actually cares about Stiles too. 

Stiles was a little frozen from shock that he didn’t kiss back right away. A very soft, small whine rumbles in the back of the wolf’s throat and he goes to pull away. Stiles curls his fists in Jackson’s expensive shirt, keeping their mouths firmly pressed together. He never wants to hear that sound again. 

“I didn’t know,” Stiles whispers.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Jackson strokes his cheek. “Just say the word and I’ll snap his neck. I promise.”

“No, Stiles mutters, brushing their noses together. “I just need you.”

Jackson smiles, “You’ve got me,” leaning in to kiss him again.

#teen wolf #stackson #stiles stilinski #jackson whittemore #stiles x jackson #jackson x stiles #bad things happen bingo #Match Writes

[itookyoudown]

I know it’s been a while since you wrote it, but I’d love to get the directors’ commentary on this excerpt from “and i would be the one (to hold you down):”

Tim’s ordained badge hangs from a chain around his neck. It rests like a shield over his heart though Tim’s not so sure if it’s protecting him from Boyd or Boyd from him. Usually, the weight of the star was light. Like a pat of reassurance. Now, it wears heavy. Like a collar.

He supposes dog-like feelings are appropriate for him. In the army, they’d made a big whoop about the differences between sheep, sheepdogs, and wolves. An easy way to divvy up the world’s people into tidy designations. War may be chaos, but the military is orderly. Civilians, the good guys, and the bad guys. Tim’s a sheepdog. By default that makes him one of the good guys, though sometimes he has doubts on whether the world is that simple and clean.

It doesn’t feel particularly good to point his weapon at Boyd.

There’s a big difference between doing something because you like doing it and doing something because you’re good at doing it. Tim doesn’t like shooting people...but he does like being good at it. Taking aim at Boyd doesn’t feel good per se, but it feels familiar and that makes it easy.

In his heart, Tim’s still a soldier. Boyd’s not. He may have served, but he’s no longer one of the sheepdogs. Maybe he never really was. That’s the difference between them right there. Tim has the skills to shoot and the willingness to pull, but not without an order to do it. Boyd doesn’t take orders from anyone. He makes his own decisions now. Without input from anyone or consideration for others.

Tim can see the irrefutable evidence of Boyd’s most recent decisions. After all, Boyd’s wearing them. They’ve stained his hands and the front of his clothes. He’s already pulled first on someone and literally taken the clothes off their back. The local sheriff, Tim assumes, from the brown and beige star-smacked look that Boyd is wearing.

Boyd’s a wolf dressed up as a sheepdog.

There are no sheep left in the building.

Oh thank you! I'm actually really happy you asked about this even if I have to really dig into my memory bank.

and i would be the one (to hold you down). It was my first fanfic ever so I'm very fond of it, even if looking back I realize it's still raw in a few places and could have used some more baking. But I love the world I created for this and I pulled off the vibe & grappled with the themes I set out to explore in this piece.

So, this whole passage really was to acknowledge that while Boyd and Tim have commonalities (they're veterans they're southern boys they're soldiers they come from abusive homes etc etc) they are fundamentally very different people and they do NOT share moral values. There is zero overlap there, they're vehemently opposed in this regard. No same coin, opposite sides imagery happening here. They aren't even in the same piggybank together lol.

(I stressed the importance of this because it was intended to amplify the real horror at the end of Tim losing his morality when Boyd forcibly turns him into a vampire -- Boyd doesn't just take Tim's life, he does something even more sinister and destroys Tim's moral center).

Tim’s ordained badge hangs from a chain around his neck. It rests like a shield over his heart though Tim’s not so sure if it’s protecting him from Boyd or Boyd from him. Usually, the weight of the star was light. Like a pat of reassurance. Now, it wears heavy. Like a collar.

I have so many feelings about the symbolism behind the badge of the US marshals. It's so distinctive and evocative that this bit was really just stopping to ponder what that badge means and how it is used and to show that Tim's relationship with his own job as a LEO isn't without nuance.

He supposes dog-like feelings are appropriate for him. In the army, they’d made a big whoop about the differences between sheep, sheepdogs, and wolves. An easy way to divvy up the world’s people into tidy designations. War may be chaos, but the military is orderly. Civilians, the good guys, and the bad guys. Tim’s a sheepdog. By default that makes him one of the good guys, though sometimes he has doubts on whether the world is that simple and clean.

This whole bit about wolves VS sheepdogs is an old analogy (hi jesus as a shepherd imagery). But you'll also see it tossed around in veteran circles a lot -- shows up in military memes constantly lol. There's controversy about the dude and the essay/lecture/book it stems from, but I won't get into all that. Simply put, this analogy is one that Tim would be familiar with and I think as a young man who was sent off to war it really cemented into his mind. That pretty sounding and crystal clear separation between innocents, protectors, and predators is one that has helped Tim grapple with his moral injuries.

Though he doesn't fully buy into it. Tim is a product and weapon of the USA military propaganda machine, but Tim's service has left him questioning everything he was taught and told. Tim has remarkable self-awareness and I wanted to show that while Tim uses this mindset to help guide himself through the complications of life, he doesn't entirely fall prey to the us VS them mentality.

Tim's capable of self-reflection and in order to do that you need to have the ability to doubt yourself.

It doesn’t feel particularly good to point his weapon at Boyd.

I really wanted to make it clear to readers that Tim has little ill will toward Boyd. That his confrontation with Boyd is Tim acting professionally and that he's adhering to the vow he took when he took up office as a US deputy marshal. It doesn't matter that Boyd has been a pain in the ass to our lawmen for six seasons or that Tim is tired of Boyd and Raylan's personal bullshit or even that Tim and Raylan are implied to have a romantic relationship + the later insinuated that Raylan has been feeding on Tim.

Tim doesn't hate Boyd in this story. There's no rage or jealousy or hatred when he draws his weapon because this is Tim, as a LEO, reacting to an active shooting in a hospital.

In his heart, Tim’s still a soldier. Boyd’s not. He may have served, but he’s no longer one of the sheepdogs. Maybe he never really was.

Deep breath. I just love season 6 Boyd so much. He's awful and it's horrible to watch him unravel and go full-throttle with his cruelty and anger, but I think it's such a fitting end for him when you look back at all of his choices throughout the story. Tragic, in a certain light, but Boyd went from antagonist to full-fledged villain of his own accord and I love that for him. Go outlaw man go!

I loved including this bit because I think it harkens back nicely to all the lies Boyd tells and the masks he wears and Boyd never quite being who he says he is.

They’ve stained his hands and the front of his clothes. He’s already pulled first on someone and literally taken the clothes off their back. The local sheriff, Tim assumes, from the brown and beige star-smacked look that Boyd is wearing.

Nah we, as readers, know that'd be Carl, but this is told from Tim's POV and he wouldn't know about that. I did really like this bit though because we see Tim in LEO mode even in the heat of the moment -- he's making assumptions and trying to piece together clues but he's not stating facts. Because we're shown once again that Tim isn't acting from an emotional place.

Boyd’s a wolf dressed up as a sheepdog. There are no sheep left in the building.

Ominous sentences OMNIOUS. Here is kinda where I started to slip in the horror. And also on a practical level to explain Tim's alone with Boyd. The gunshots have cleared out the hospital. There is no one to come to Tim's rescue or help him.

And to go on a ramble for a moment here: when the horror does rise in the following paragraphs...the wolf, sheepdog, and sheep analogy actually entirely falls apart and is no longer applicable in any way. Because Boyd isn't human at all. He's not even a wolf. He's so far beyond Tim's understanding or ability to comprehend what Boyd is! Because vampires :)

That's also why this is the last time I use the wolf/dog/sheep imagery in this fic.

Thanks again for sending this ask! This was a fun trip down memory lane.

(author commentary ask game)

#tooks.txt #itookyoudown #justie author commentary #justie games

[kitchenisking]

November Fic Rec

Hello amazing people! Hope everyone is doing well! Enjoy the rec, remember to send love to out authors! ❤️

you break the mountain down by runphoebe - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 10655, sterek)

Stiles is pretty sure that it’s not normal to have a sexual awakening six years into a relationship. He’s pretty sure that’s supposed to happen at the beginning and not, you know, after you already have a mortgage together.

Stiles and Derek have been together for six years when Stiles graduates from college and moves back to Beacon Hills.

5 Times Derek and Stiles Proved They Were Mates + 1 Time They Celebrated It bystarrrdusttt - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 10747, sterek)

The pack had slowly settled around each other and had gained a rhythm, and Derek’s wolf every time had yipped around Stiles asking Derek to bite and claim him and every single time he had to remind his wolf to settle down. So yes Derek knows it wasn't going to be easy, especially since he can't just act as all those stupid Alphas Stiles hates so much and ravish Stiles, no matter how much he wanted to and It wasn’t Stiles fault that he appealed so much to Derek but maybe it was. He was just so good. Not only in a cute annoying way but also, putting others before him way. It made Derek yearn for him and question how someone could be so good?

Derek really needed to get his shit together.

Keep Yourself Warm by kilaem - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 71733, sterek)

Stiles is twenty seven. 

He has a job he loves as a supernatural consultant, he has a family who means the world to him, and a werewolf husband who he can’t imagine his life without. Stiles is twenty seven and married, and he loves his husband. His marriage is fine.

Most of the time. Actually even that’s an overstatement.

His marriage isn’t fine.

Shifts by gryvon - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 15077, sterek)

Stiles has what he's always secretly wanted - he's in a relationship with Derek and he's one of Derek's betas - but all that gets turned upside down when Gerard kidnaps him and his unexpected baby.

Once In A Full Moon by asarcasticwitch - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 4199, sterek)

Underneath the twinkling spark of teasing, he notices something akin to hope mixing with the maddening kaleidoscope of green, a pleading edge to the usual Alpha confidence radiating from him.

Derek wants this just as much as he does. 

I'm Here by princesstigerlily - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 3740, sterek)

Stiles has trouble dealing with the darkness. He and Derek discover that lots of good sex can keep the darkness at bay. Derek is more than happy to help.

A Broken Pack by AlexTheShipper - (Rating: T, Words: 4921, sterek)

When the Pack decides to kick Stiles out, they lose their alpha as well. When they're in trouble. And forced to call for help, Little Red comes to save them.

Drown Me with Kisses by LadySlytherin - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 19427, sterek)

When a rusalka in the preserve nearly kills Stiles with a kiss, Stiles is in grave danger any time he’s near a source of water - not just rivers, lakes, and oceans, but pools, bathtubs, the shower, a sink full of water - you put water in it, and it could probably kill Stiles now. Deaton’s advice? Break the rusalka’s magic with a kiss of opposite power - love to beat out death.

Build A Wolf by PalenDrome (nerdherderette) - (Rating: T, Words: 5798, sterek)

Derek is a romantic. He dreams of finding his mate, of connecting with that special someone who will make his heart swoon.

[Excerpt]: "Who says I need to be in a relationship to be happy?" Derek asks, his hackles rising. Besides, Boyd has it all wrong. Derek has Die Hard on his Christmas queue.

Yippee ki yay.

Boyd holds up both hands. "Not me. If you want to be a bachelor forever, I'm not one to judge."

"But I am," Erica says. "You don't date anymore. Hell, when's the last time you even got laid? Which would also be fine, except it's not, because you're miserable and it's obvious that's not what you really want."

Sometimes Derek has a hard time following Erica's logic. Unfortunately, this is not one of those moments. 

"It doesn't matter," he says, digging the excess rice out from his wrap. "I'm better off alone."

Five Times Detective Stilinski and Fire Captain Hale Had Sex In Public, and One Time They Did It In A Bed by bleep0bleep - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 32853, sterek)

"Did you say--" Stiles starts.

"What?" Derek growls.

"We're not a couple!" they both retort in unison.

"We're not together," Stiles insists.

Lydia coughs pointedly. "An incident report filed by 87th Precinct Captain Erica Reyes. March twenty-fifth, eight p.m. Came back to the precinct to grab my coat, only to hear Stilinski banging his new boyfriend in the holding cell."

#stiles x derek #sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #fanfiction #ficrec #kitcheniskingficrecs

[praycambrian]

chief among the many deranged justified aus i will never write is the time traveler's wife one, where raylan's occasional chronological slip as a little kid turns into a full-blown problem as he keeps growing up, until by the time he's a teenager he's lucky to get two or three linear days in a row without falling into another time--only ever another time, but not another place, because he only seems to travel within harlan county. It just makes him that much more desperate to escape. He runs away at fifteen (not for the first time) and doesn't even make it within ten miles of the county line before he's tripping and falling into a snowdrift that wasn't there a second ago, because he started walking in may and now it's the dead of winter in another year, god only knows when. Raylan has no way of guessing. At least, not until he stumbles his shivering way out onto a road he recognizes, and from there he's able to make it up to the cabin before dark, but only barely, and his hands are too cold to fumble in the planter for the hidden key but it's fine because Boyd's already inside and opening the door for him and raylan can tell from how old he is that it's sometime in the 90s, during those bad years Boyd doesn't like to talk about much. Doesn't matter. Raylan's happy to see him in any time. And it's easier, sometimes, to do it like this, when they already know how to talk to each other. Raylan doesn't really know his own Boyd yet; their daddies would hear about it. He thinks it'll be soon, though, from what Boyd's let slip over the years--even though truth be told that ain't much. Boyd's different every time, at every age, but the one thing that stays the same is he'll never tell Raylan what happens before Raylan gets the chance to live it himself. Sometimes, like right now as he's sitting with Boyd in front of the fire in the cabin that's become his refuge across time, Raylan can't wait to get there. The future. He thinks there must be something special in it, some kind of powerful reason for Boyd to come and find him here so long, over so many different years: to find and take care of him when nobody else does.

And meanwhile Boyd's sitting next to this skinny hopeful kid, telling him any story he likes except the only real story there is, which is this: that Boyd Crowder has loved Raylan Givens since he showed up with a cowboy hat in Boyd's backyard when he was ten years old. That he loved him before he knew him, and he loved him in the mines, even though it broke something in him every time he turned around to find Raylan gone, disappeared off to some other Boyd and leaving the real one fretful and jealous, just starting to put words to something that'd been growing a long time in the dark. Boyd even loved him when he left--when he turned his back in Boyd's face, turned a deaf ear on Boyd shouting "you expect me to just wait for you? To stay here forever, so you always have someone to pick you up when you show up at six or sixteen or sixty looking for me?" Boyd had left, too. Made it nearly a full year in the desert, dreaming every night of Raylan, young and old and familiar, cold and alone in the place he hates most, and then Boyd got himself drummed out and shipped back home, having found that heartbreak wasn't enough for him to stay gone. But this kid doesn't need to carry all that. So Boyd won't breathe a word of it. He'll let this Raylan keep holding on to his future with both hands, just like Boyd's holding onto his own. Because his Raylan will come back eventually. He has to, because he already has: limping through the long grass and sweeping that hat off to run a hand through his silver hair, tired, confused, until he caught sight of Boyd and his face changed completely--the thing Boyd's never forgotten--relief and satisfaction and then a kind of surprise, like he'd found the word he'd been trying to think of for a long long time, as he said "oh. It's you."

#i am unwell #justified #raylan/boyd #my fic #sort of. close enough

[sapphireginger]

Chapter #9

Summary:

Stiles turns off the tv and coaxes her to look at him. “I will always braid your hair. I think it’s really cool that you’re showing him how but that doesn’t mean he’s going to do it better than me. I don’t think it’s bad if he gets really good at it.” “You don’t?” “Nope. Do you know why?” She shakes her head. “Why?” Stiles brushes her hair out of her eyes. “Because one day Boyd might have a little girl of his own and when she asks him to braid her hair, he’ll be able to do it because you taught him how.” Olivia’s eyes widen and she smiles. “Oh. Well, then that’s okay."

AO3 Link

Lunchtime rolls around the next day, when Erica brings Olivia home, Derek having headed home after breakfast.

“Daddy?”

“In the kitchen Liv!”

She runs inside and throws her arms around his waist. “Did you have fun Daddy? How was your date? Is Mr. Derek here? Are you gonna go on another date?”

“Woah, slow down kiddo.”

Erica closes the front door and makes her way to the kitchen. She eyes the wine glasses in the dish drainer and sends a smirk at Stiles who silences her with a look. She raises her hands in a placating gesture and smiles. “I’m sure your daddy had fun. You need to put your laundry in the hamper Livvy.”

Olivia huffs. “Okay but then I want to know how daddy’s date went.”

Stiles waits until Olivia is in the laundry room before giving Erica a go ahead gesture. “So how was it, Batman? Is he sculpted all over?”

Stiles makes a face even as he blushes. “That’s none of your business. He’s gorgeous and I had an amazing evening.”

“Well good. So where is he?” She glances at the stairs. “Bedroom closet?”

“No,” Stiles says with a snort. “He left after breakfast.”

Erica looks like the cat that got the cream. “So, he stayed the night then. Get it, Batman. Do I need to call Boyd to do any repairs to the bed?”

“Erica!” he hisses. He checks to make sure Olivia hasn’t returned and then fixes Erica with a glare. “We didn’t have sex.” His admission is followed by a one shoulder shrug.

“Why not?”

“Because I have Olivia to think about and he has Zeke. Being a parent means we have to take our kids into consideration when it comes to relationships.” He waits until she looks ready to argue before continuing. “That being said, we're going to a movie this weekend. He also asked about stopping by after he gets off work. I told him he was welcome anytime. I think he mentioned getting dinner on Wednesday night and then depending on how the movie goes we’re going to go out to dinner at the diner with the kids.”

Erica is stunned and then lets out a shrill squeal before hugging him and spinning him around. “Holy shit, Batman!” She smiles and pinches his cheeks. “My little Batman is all grown up.”

Stiles rolls his eyes but he’s wearing a soft smile. “About time huh?”

“I’m happy for you, Stiles. You deserve to be happy. Boyd and I are happy to have Olivia stay with us anytime.”

Olivia chooses that moment to run back out slipping on her socks and barely stops herself from falling. “Olivia Claudia Rose!”

“Sorry, Daddy.”

“What have I said about running in the house?”

Olivia wrings her hands. “No running in the house and never in socks because that’s how you get concussions, and you would know because you got one.”

Stiles nods. “Exactly.” He sighs and opens his arms pulling her into a hug. She melts into the embrace and accepts the kiss to her forehead. “So, how did Boyd do with braiding your hair?”

“He did okay for his first try.”

Erica beams. “He may even get to be as good as you one day.”

Olivia looks at Erica and shakes her head. She frowns and looks up at Stiles who quirks a brow. “Nobody will ever be better than daddy at braiding my hair.” She buries her head against Stiles’s stomach, and he puts his hand up to stop Erica from trying to backtrack. He’s pretty sure he knows what’s wrong.

“Livvy, angel?” he says softly. “I planned for us to watch Star Wars: The Last Jedi this afternoon. Do you want to go get the couch movie ready?”

“Okay,” she mumbles.

Once she’s out of earshot Erica looks at Stiles with guilty eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Stiles shakes his head and hugs her. “Don’t be. It’s okay. I think I know what’s wrong.”

“Really? Was it something I said?”

“No. Not really. I haven’t dated anyone since…” he trails off. 

Erica cups the back of his head and rubs his back. “Oh, Stiles. I’ll leave so you can talk to her but if you need me don’t hesitate to call. Okay?”

Stiles relaxes in her arms. “Okay.”

They hug for a few minutes longer before Erica heads out and Stiles joins Olivia on the couch. She crawls into his lap and rests her head on his shoulder, her eyes on the movie that’s playing. Stiles wraps his arms around her, one hand playing with her hair. He doesn’t say anything, just letting her calm down.

It’s not until the credits roll that Olivia starts talking. “Will you always braid my hair daddy? I don’t want Boyd to do it better than you.”

Stiles turns off the tv and coaxes her to look at him. “I will always braid your hair. I think it’s really cool that you’re showing him how but that doesn’t mean he’s going to do it better than me. I don’t think it’s bad if he gets really good at it.”

“You don’t?”

“Nope. Do you know why?”

She shakes her head. “Why?”

Stiles brushes her hair out of her eyes. “Because one day Boyd might have a little girl of his own and when she asks him to braid her hair, he’ll be able to do it because you taught him how.”

Olivia’s eyes widen and she smiles. “Oh. Well then that’s okay. You’re the only one I want to braid my hair though. Okay, Daddy?” she says with a yawn.

With a smile and a kiss to her forehead Stiles nods. “Of course.”

“Can we take a nap now, Daddy? I’m sleepy.”

Stiles pulls a blanket over them and adjusts to lay down with her head on his chest. “Go to sleep, Livvy. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

Her eyes close and her breathing evens out as she falls asleep. Just like the time Stiles has with her when he braids her hair, moments when they cuddle like this are just as precious. He kisses Olivia's forehead and tucks a loose golden blonde curl behind her ear, smiling at her sleeping face. She looks so much like her mother. 

Sometimes he has to stop to catch his breath. He and Gracie, Grace, were kindred spirits, platonic soulmates and he'd do anything for Grace, including raising her daughter as his own no matter how much it hurts sometimes to see her in her.

Stiles feels his own eyelids grow heavy and doesn’t try to fight it when he too drifts off. He’s glad they have today and tomorrow to themselves.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #erica reyes #olivia stilinski (oc) #fluff #light angst #kid fic #single parent stiles stilinski #high on zipping into love: ch. 9 #chapter 9 #human au

[wacky-nameless-inventor-24]

Main Negaverse AU. Refresh my memory. World, characters, dynamics, everything. Go! (I only remember the basics). :D

LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

You asked for this ;)

SO! Dunno much about the actual Negaverse from the dwd series so things may change if I ever decide to actually watch an episode about it but for now we have this (gonna focus more on the team science aspect of this because that's what most of the stories are about ssldfjdlkj). Oh gosh I've gotta go digging into ye old docs from 2020 help meeee-

So far we've got Scrooge as the evil crime boss overlord over Duckburg. He does whatever the heck he wants and essentially just regularly pillages the city for whatever he wants. He doesn't actually rule anything, he just wreaks havoc and hardly any force is organized against him because everyone's too busy trying to put their lives back together. Gizmoduck acts as his enforcer and is the one who does most of the pillaging, along with being the one who's sent out to squash whatever kind of rebellions come up against that. Gyro is his evil scientist, he makes things that to his vast frustration regularly turn out good and try to rebel against Gyro and Scrooge. He's the most two-faced person ever, he acts like the sweetest person you'll ever meet but then will absolutely stab someone in the back. Said it before but I'm really just going off of this because I absolutely love this idea. Boyd (here called 2-BO still) is so far one of the only inventions that he's managed to keep 'evil', he acts as Gyro's bodyguard and if Gyro ever needs any shady things done and Gizmoduck isn't available, he'll have 2-BO do it. Despite relationships being different in this universe he does still have some genuine affection for 2-BO in there somewhere. Gyro and Fenton just kind of tolerate each other, Fenton's been around long enough to know all about Gyro's nice outward appearance, while also being wholly familiar with the darker side of him. So Gyro doesn't usually bother with being nice to him anymore, and Fenton is just his usual mean and pessimistic self right back at him. I wouldn't call them friends, at least, not on a surface level, but they've known each other long enough that they know each other well and can work well together.

I think I said it in their post but Blue again was one of the Moonvasion clones of course, brought down by one of the Moonlanders (Lunaris was just trying to free Duckburg and the rest of the world from Scrooge's evil-ness). Something about what happened to them acted as a wake-up call, they were able to see how terrible Scrooge (and therefore everyone else who worked with/for him) really was from the outside. When they found out that the rest of the clones had been killed for being excess weight, that finally drove them to do something about all of this. But because the clones were killed, they're terrified of being discovered as one so they do whatever they can not to meet face-to-face with pretty much anyone in their universe. They're afraid of confrontation anyway too, so they do most of their opposing as just quietly sneaking around. They're terrified of Fenton, and he gets a special kind of delight out of messing with them. They've never actually fainted around him (yet), but it isn't for a lack of him trying. They can't stand how fake Gyro comes off most of the time, but they know firsthand how ruthless he can be so they stay well away from him whenever possible. And tbh it's really fun to think about my stories switched over to the Negaverse, because like any wholesome moment or happy ending is the opposite. Mads and Fenton bleeding out in the snow and having a nice heart-to-heart before being saved? Could that be changed to Fenton trying to kill Blue before they managed to get back at him in self-defense, and when Gyro went to get Fenton he left Blue there to die? Gyro being kidnapped by F.O.W.L. and Mads and Fenton going to rescue him? Or Fenton forcing Blue to tell him where Gyro is and making them be his hostage?? And angst would be the opposite here too- switching Here's My Day so Far so it's Blue staying with F.O.W.L. for a few months before Fenton comes and kidnaps them and holds them hostage at his house, before making them come along to rescue Gyro from F.O.W.L. (and possibly hurt their F.O.W.L. agent friends- wait maybe in this universe Bradford's death was on accident??? 👀) too. Anyway. It's fun.

Story starts when Scrooge tells Gyro and Fenton to go ask the Negaverse people (who they know about somehow... haven't worked that out yet) for help defeating F.O.W.L.. NScrooge says he'll help, but only if they pick someone for a fight against his champion. His only condition is that whoever they pick, their weapons have to be homemade. Because the armor was largely made by Gyro, they go ask Mads, who made the weapons in his hand himself. When they head back to the Negaverse with him they discover that NScrooge's champion is NGizmoduck, and the two have a very intense and also very sexually charged fight, where Mads wins (but it's implied that NFenton let him win 'cause someonessssssss catching feelings already ;)). And I was originally thinking from there that they just kind of immediately fall for each other, but lately I’ve been thinking it would be really fun if they had some sort of enemies-to-lovers things going on where they take turns kidnapping each other, and it's left unspoken but they both know that for the most part this is just a game. Eventually they do confess and after that their relationship is mostly just little dates in each of their universes, telling each other how different things went down and how their respective universe even works (never resolved the 'negaverse people are now fighting F.O.W.L. too' thing here because LISTEN this was just an elaborate scheme to get these two together slsdjflsdjflsj). I haven't worked out how Mads met Blue yet, don't know if he went looking for them on purpose or somehow they just ran into each other. Blue is scared of Mads and his universe at first- because everyone there knows that Mads (and therefore Blue) is a clone of Gyro, and they're afraid that someone is going to tell someone in their universe about that too. Blue does eventually warm up to Mads (and Mads really tries to be their friend), though they are very distrusting of Gyro and Fenton because no matter how nice they are to them they'll always have that first impression of NGyro and NFenton.

I’m thinking that the relationship between NFenton and Blue does get better while Mads is there, he’s close with both of them and isn’t gonna tolerate NFenton harassing them at all. That being said!!! (This is where it gets tricky because I don’t know all about how it worked in dwd but this is how I’ve chosen to interpret the basic stuff ik sldlflfm) Their universes do run parallel to each other so if something happens in one, then some kind of version of that happens in another. Now if Mads and Fenton do ever have a major interaction in their universe then some kind of likely negative version happens between NFenton and Blue (and that was actually something really fun I messed around with in one of my stories, someone dies in the Negaverse and now they’ve got to figure out if they can prevent their death in the normal universe, if that’s even possible).

So yeah I think that’s most of what I’ve figured out so far lmk if there’s more you wanna know about 👀

#Negaverse #thanks for the ask! #shychick-52 #gyro gearloose #mad ducktor #fenton crackshell cabrera #negaverse gyro gearloose #nega fenton #nega gyro #nega fenton crackshell cabrera #nega gyro gearloose #negaverse fenton crackshell cabrera #negaverse fenton #negaverse gyro #ducktales #dt17 #ducktales 2017 #duckverse #the blue phantom #blue phantom #Madfen #gizmoduck #nega gizmoduck #negaverse gizmoduck

[chacusha]

Legend of Mana: The Teardrop Crystal

I'm late but I finally watched this. Some thoughts:

My partner after watching the first episode: "Like, it's not just me -- nothing the characters were saying made any sense??" Me: "Yep, that's just how the game is. 😎"

The opening is a bit meh but I love the ending credits (both the music and the visuals).

Aww they missed the opportunity to have Inspector Boyd demand that "Sandra" take that hat off. In general, Boyd seems quite a bit toned down/more serious in this anime.

My partner in the second episode: *pauses it and points to Rubens in his first appearance* "Okay, but that is a SUPER Jumi-ass-looking guy..."

My partner responding to Shiloh doing nothing to intervene in Sandra and Rubens' conversation: "I don't get it. She's a petite lady with a tiny knife and he's got abs made of concrete."

My partner: "Inspector Boyd's right to wear that hat is revoked because he was so surprised the guy named 'Basket Fish' turned out to be the basket fish guy they met earlier."

Me and my partner: "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think I ship Sapphor and a literal basket fish??? 😭"

Me whenever my partner complains about how useless Pearl is: "She is. ☺️"

My partner: "Elazul is kinda a little bitch." Me: "He is. ☺️"

I like seeing Esmeralda and co. wandering around the world together. The anime really cut/downplayed the whole "Elazul/the protagonist is Esmeralda's knight!" aspect of the game, which I don't mind because I never really liked it.

More thoughts about the finale/ending because this got long:

Grudgingly, I accept the "pick Elazul" version of the end of the Jumi arc (but I think the "pick Blackpearl" path is canon/makes more sense in a lot of ways).

I'm not sure how I feel about the Shiloh/Seraphina plotline. As a player of the game, it feels kind of selfcestuous but then is not played that way at all in the anime itself. IDK, it just feels like a weird choice!

I like the extra backstory for Sapphor, being the leader of the Guardians in the Bejeweled City. I wonder if he's gotten any new fic from it? Hm... doesn't look like it, on AO3 at least. Sad. 😭

I'm not sure if the Jumi arc climax really works without the space whale fight. The reason is that I thought it was important that the protagonist (and Elazul or Blackpearl) make the opposite choice of Sandra and choose to ruin the ability of the Lord of Jewels to form a teardrop crystal in order to get back the cores of their former comrades. Like, I thought they essentially punched all the Jumi cores out of him, but then of course this makes no one happy because the Jumi are near-extinct. Hence why the protagonist weeps for them.

My partner: "Yeah, I didn't get what was up with the Lord of Jewels. Like, was he just a scam artist? 'Oh no, just one more core... Seriously this time!'" Me: "I don't think that was the intended read of him in the game, but I see where you're getting that..."

(Seriously, why did they change it from exactly 1000 cores to just approximately that?)

The Sword of Fate(?) gets a little more narrative significance here... but not much. I always wondered what is the point of having it in the story at all. I guess no one knows. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

My partner: "Omg, Sandra walked away from Omelas!"

Okay yeah, the ending here is a bit wonky. I think at least the director's cut did the ending better (I think it's important that you have the scene of the Jumi on-screen coming together in order to try to form a teardrop crystal to heal Shiloh and co. in order for the ending scene to have tension. And then the fakeout "bad news" delivery). But there were still the issues of (1) no space whale, and (2) the weird Shiloh/Seraphina scene -- I think this subplot muddies up the point of the Jumi arc, which is about the distrustful relationship between Jumi and non-Jumi. Having Shiloh be already mortally injured when he turns to stone diminishes the sacrifice he makes by shedding tears for/feeling sorry for the Jumi. Making Shiloh and Seraphina both sad at Seraphina's betrayal and wishing they had more time together also introduces a source of emotional sadness that, again, isn't about the Jumi. Both of these things super undermine the emotional weight of the Jumi arc, which is ultimately about being willing to open your heart to the troubles of outsiders, even if this exposes you to harm. The way they handled incorporating two protagonists into the anime was overall interesting throughout the rest of the episodes, but here is where it really fell apart.

Anyway, overall, I enjoyed it. The Jumi arc is my favorite plotline in Legend of Mana and I think it translated pretty well to a self-contained anime series like this.

By the way, would anyone like some LOM anime icons? I would like to make some, now that we have like a treasure trove of high-quality anime screencaps. Let me know!

#seiken densetsu #legend of mana #legend of mana: the teardrop crystal #legend of mana anime #review #anime review

[takaraphoenix]

with the movie news, how about teen wolf for the game?

Thanks for playing, though that movie should never be the reason for anything imo! xD

3 male characters I love: STILES STILES STILES he is one of THE BEST BOYS on TV!!! I love this character so much! Second, Derek with his broody dry sarcasm, absolutely delightful. Ah, let's complete the trio of main characters and take Scott, he's honestly so funny and sweet

3 female characters I love: KIRA! I love Kira so much she is so adorable and such a disaster in the best of ways, also I'm sorry but badass kitsune??? Hot damn! Second would be Allison, I always found her incredibly compelling and I am still mad at how she died (but then I'm also still mad at how they shelved Kira. Mh. Here's a trend for you. Date Scott McCall and you get canned <_< Weird writing decisions imo, considering he's the titular lead). And thiiird Melissa McCall, she's a great mom, even if she took some to adjust to Scott's situation, once she did, she was ride and die

3 romantic ships I love: Sterek, at the top, obviously. Stiles and Derek are top-tier. From the canon ships, it'd be Scott/Allison I was honestly so surprisingly much invested in this? And then Kira/Malia, ever since their dance in the club in Mexico!!! That was so yes, finally a femslash ship has crossed my radar for this show!! They were cute and Kira deserves to be happy

3 platonic dynamics I love: Scott-Stiles, their friendship is the backbone of this franchise. Second, mh, I do find the dynamic of Scott and Derek very interesting too, particularly in fics where the McCall pack and the Hale pack coexist (as it should be). And thirdly the Lydia-Allison friendship, I love me a good girls-friendship

3 favorite moments in canon: When Stiles carried Derek in the pool, that was *chef's kiss*, absolutely. Stiles in the hospital, thinking he's going to die of the same thing his mom did, but then the nogitsune reveal - Dylan's acting was incredible in the dual role. Brilliant. Third one is really hard, because despite having such shit writing for the most part, there are absolutely brilliant comedic pearls in this show. Okay let's go with one of my favorite shots, when Stiles and Scott are in the gay bar looking for Danny and Scott suddenly realizes it's a gay bar and turns toward Stiles, who is just surrounded by drag queens and goes "ya think" like he was in his element there and Jeff still trying to convince us that boy isn't bi lol what a fool

3 favorite headcanons: BISEXUAL STILES. Boyd and Erica and Allison LIVE FUCK YOU. Hale pack coexisting with the McCall pack

3 least favorite things about it: ahahahahahaha *ugly sobbing* how do I narrow this down to 3? *more sobbing* okay top has to be the existence of season 6B that was just shit the only good thing about it was FBI!Stiles and the way Derek carried him bridal style but other than that this shit half-season has no rights. Second? KIRA and how she was shelved, like, they didn't even fridge her the way they did with Allison, letting her die a heroic sacrifice death, instead they took this young woman with her whole life ahead of her and... and... put her in the sand to be gone forever what the fuck what the fuck what the actual fuck (plus the behind the scenes shit I mean hot damn to not tell Arden that they'd write Kira out of the show???) And third is genuinely hard, like, probably the existence of this good for nothing movie sequel and that they want to make a spin-off show from it

Top Three Fandom Ask Game

#Teen Wolf #Stiles Stilinski #Sterek #Derek Hale #Kira Yukimura #Allison Argent #Top Three Ask Game #send me asks

[infodumpingaboutnature]

Here’s some good news I just learned about one of my favorite animals: PANGOLINS!!!

(Photo credit: African Wildlife Foundation)

The Giant Pangolin (Smutsia gigantea) is one of the four pangolin species found in Africa and as the name suggests it’s the largest of the eight (potentially nine) living pangolin species. Sadly, pangolin scales are a highly sought after item on the wildlife black market since they’re used in a variety of Asian folk medicines despite having no medicinal value since they’re literally made out of the same thing our hair and fingernails are made out of (keratin). Pangolin meat is also considered a delicacy in many places. Due to the massive decline in the populations of the Asian pangolin species, poachers have begun trafficking the African species and between this and habitat loss the Giant Pangolin went regionally extinct in Kenya in 1971.

(Photo credit: Mark Boyd)

But here’s where the good news comes in! In 2018 giant pangolins were once again being sighted in Kenya! However, since they are solitary creatures and mostly active at night it’s hard for conservationists to get an accurate estimate of how many pangolins might have returned to Kenya. Sadly, the pangolins aren’t out of the woods yet. A lot of forests and woodlands in Kenya are being turned into farmland and farmers in the region must use powerful electric fences to keep animals like elephants away from their crops and these can pose a threat to pangolins who just want to pass through while foraging for bugs. Many of these farmers are pangolin conservationists themselves but their livelihoods depend on them being able to grow and sell their crops in order to feed their families.

(A pangolin being measured and tagged by researchers at night. Photo credit: Will Burrard-Lucas/Pangolin Project)

So, the researchers, farmers, and conservationists who form Pangolin Project came up with a solution. In 2004 over 23 landowners, who represent around 60 households, each set aside a bit of land in order to form the Nyekweri Kimintet Forest Trust. The conservancy covers around 5,000 acres and in addition to providing habitat for pangolins, the Forest Trust also provides job opportunities for local youths and seeks to educate the community about pangolins and overall wildlife conservation.

This story just makes me really happy since I love pangolins and where I work we try to inspire the public (especially local farmers) to get involved in wildlife conservation and adopt more sustainable farming practices so it’s nice to see that happening all over the world. Also, I hope to one day cover the mysterious ninth species of pangolin as well as all the other species. However, right now I’m visiting my bf in Florida so expect some posts related to that.

#pangolin #pangolins #animal news #animals #animal lover #habitat loss #conservation #kenya #endangered species #africawildlife #giant pangolin #good news #sustainable farming