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cuubism · 5 months

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work is driving me fucking insane this week, so here's this silly self-indulgent thing i wrote to distract myself.

the spirit of this post is here as well XD

coffee shop au, meet cute, literally falling for your crush

In retrospect, forgetting to eat for three meals in a row wasn't Dream's best move. Not that he'd done it on purpose. Hence the forgetting. But taking time to cook always felt so wasteful when he was finally making progress on his novel. He could eat later, whenever the hyperfocus burned itself out.

The only thing that eventually got him out of the house was caffeine. He'd run out of both coffee and tea in the dysfunction of this week, and thus was forced to venture out to the cafe a few blocks away from his flat in search of enough energy to keep him awake for a few more hours.

Technically, there was a place that was closer. There was also a grocery store, where he could have bought coffee grounds. But Dream took the excuse to go a bit further, and not for the quality of the coffee.

He and Johanna, on the occasion she could convince Dream to leave the house and attempt to be part of society, had first started coming to this particular coffee shop because Johanna's girlfriend Rachel worked there. But Dream had to admit that what really kept him coming back, including at times when he wasn't being dragged along by Johanna, was another employee entirely.

Hob.

Hob was, in Rachel's words, "a perfectly nice guy but I don't know why you're so obsessed with him." In Johanna's words, Hob was, "quite fit, I can't lie, but I really thought you'd have gone for someone who's a bit more of an arts gremlin like you."

In Dream's words, Hob was perfect. He always had a smile for Dream, and a kind word or compliment, and he had kind eyes, and nice hands, and was terribly handsome. Dream had never been particularly attracted to masculinity before but Hob was proving him wrong over and over. He looked like he was strong enough to pick Dream up, and that did all sorts of exciting things to Dream's insides. Dream may or may not have had an actual dream about Hob holding his hand.

Hob also made terrible coffee. But Dream didn't care. He took whatever coffee Hob made him, whether the grounds were burnt, or it had way too much cream, or was vastly overbrewed, and drank it quite happily, sneaking looks at Hob all the while. Because Hob's coffee might be awful, but he always smiled at Dream as he gave it to him, and sometimes their hands brushed and it sent a thrilling little shock up Dream's arms. And anything Hob made for him felt made with love, he could tell, it was like a homemade birthday cake with uneven frosting and an undercooked part in the middle.

It was possible Dream should care more about the quality of the coffee and less about the symbolism of it.

In any case, he went to the coffee shop, underfed and undercaffeinated, hoping that Hob would be there, even if it meant he would have to down another cup of extremely bad coffee. Hob should be there, he did usually work Tuesday afternoons, not that Dream had memorized his schedule like a stalker or anything.

He stepped inside, the little bell over the door jingling, and found that he was right, Hob was there. A thrill of delight ran through him. Dream did not often feel anything as carefree or joyous as delight, but he was very sleep-deprived, and Hob was there, so there it was. Rachel was also working, and waved to him as he stepped up to the counter. As she and Johanna were both very aware of his embarrassing crush on Hob--much to Dream's chagrin--she didn't come over to take his order, instead leaving him to Hob.

"Hey, it's Dream, right?" said Hob, wiping off his hands on a towel and leaning on the counter, looking at Dream with a smile. He knows my name, Dream thought with a heady rush, then remembered that Hob was obligated to write it on his coffee cup, and that Dream came here often, and it didn't have to mean anything. "Dark roast with almond milk and caramel?"

How Hob could be so diligent about remembering his order and so terrible at making it, Dream didn't know. "That's correct," he said.

Behind Hob, Rachel mouthed keep going, which Dream took to mean that if he wanted to get anywhere he had to attempt to engage Hob in slightly more conversation than his usual coffee-ordering script. This was unfortunately true, particularly since Hob had already nullified half the sentences Dream would usually say by predicting his order.

"You remembered my order," he said, which felt like a reasonably normal response, definitely better than do you want to see if you can pick me up? which would probably be creepy. Rachel gave him a thumbs up.

"Of course. You're quite memorable," said Hob, and winked at him. Was he flirting? Dream would like to think so, but he wasn't usually very good at picking up on that sort of thing. Why would Hob be interested in him anyway? Perhaps he meant that Dream was memorable in a bad way, that he was annoying or weird, or--

Dream still hadn't responded.

"I am not trying to be," he said, and behind Hob, Rachel sighed. It was true, though. In most areas of life Dream preferred to go unnoticed. It was only Hob's attention that made him feel all bubbly inside.

"Task failed successfully," said Hob, "because I can't stop noticing you."

Was Dream... still succeeding at the conversation? That was truly unexpected, that he hadn't already turned Hob off by being utterly unsuitable for human society.

"Is that a good thing?" Dream asked.

"Is it?" asked Hob.

Undoubtedly it was. Dream liked the thought of Hob noticing him. He liked the thought of Hob remembering his name, and his coffee order, and when he came into the cafe, with as much detail as Dream had memorized his schedule. He did not normally like having people's eyes on him but he liked the thought of Hob looking. Of Hob caring about what he saw. It made him feel interesting and worthy, and sort of giddy and lightheaded--

Oh. No. That wasn't Hob's attention. That was the fact that the last meal he'd eaten had been a sleeve of biscuits for breakfast two days ago, and that he'd been on his feet for a long time, or what constituted a long time when one had only had a sleeve of biscuits two days ago to eat. And he hadn't slept, and he'd had quite an exciting few minutes just now, and apparently this all meant that his body had decided it needed to check out for a moment, thanks, goodbye.

Inconvenient timing, Dream thought, as everything went sort of spinny and blurry. He was making such progress! He really thought Hob might even like him, and falling on the ground was not going to help his case.

Inevitable now, though. The last thing he saw before he passed out was Hob's face, expression shifting from amusement to concern, and really, there were worse ways to go out.

He woke up not much later, or at least it felt like little time had passed, to find himself lying down on a couch in what seemed to be the cafe's back office, as best as his overtaxed mind could gather. And Hob was crouched beside him, looking at him worriedly, Rachel leaning over his shoulder, face likewise creased in concern.

Dream wondered how he had gotten to the couch. Had Hob carried him there? It was a pleasant thought, though he wished he could have experienced it in person.

"You know," said Hob, "there are easier ways to get out of talking to me than blacking out." The words were light, but he sounded genuinely stressed out about it.

Dream immediately felt bad. "I'm sorry."

Hob chucked him on the cheek, a light touch that felt fond. "Not what I meant. Are you okay?"

Dream carefully pushed himself up to sitting, Hob watching all the while, hands hovering over him but not touching. Dream sat up. His head didn't spin. "I am okay," he said.

"Probably didn't eat anything today, huh?" said Rachel. She didn't look quite as concerned as Hob did, she was used to Dream's habits. Meanwhile, for all Hob knew, Dream had a brain tumor and would imminently die.

"No," Dream admitted. "I was... occupied."

"Will you be okay here for a sec?" Hob asked, brow scrunching as if he truly thought Dream might just collapse again onto the floor without him. "I'll get you some water. Something to eat, too."

It was worth fainting in a public place, Dream thought, just to have Hob look at him with such care.

When Dream nodded, Hob hurried away to do just that.

Only now his crush was going to be one million times worse, and certainly not reciprocated, not after the scene he'd caused.

Beside him, Rachel was laughing, hiding it behind her hand.

"Is my suffering humorous to you?" Dream asked, but there was no heat in it, he was too busy looking after where Hob had disappeared.

"You should have seen it," she said. "He launched himself over the counter to catch you. Oh my god, I wish you could have witnessed it."

"Surely Hob would aid any customer in distress," Dream sniffed. But something turned over in his stomach, a little flutter of hope.

"Yeah but not literally vault the counter. It was terrific. I was worried he'd break a hip."

"I'm not that old," said Hob, coming back around the corner and crouching beside Dream again, water bottle and what looked like a chocolate muffin clasped in his hands.

Rachel was unrepentant. "You're lucky you didn't wind up on the floor, too."

"You caught me," said Dream, staring into Hob's eyes. He had such pretty eyes. Rich brown, like coffee with a dash of cream.

Dream might still be a bit lightheaded.

"Of course," said Hob, and uncapped the water, handing it to him. Dream took slow sips, realizing as he did that he hadn't drank any water all day. "I'm fond of you, you know. Can't let you hit your head on the floor."

Fond. Dream might faint again.

"Should I take you to hospital or something?" Hob asked, still so concerned it was making that floaty feeling bubble up again in Dream's chest.

"I will be fine here," he said.

"He just fell for you, that's all," said Rachel, and Dream glared at her. She just smiled back. "Swooned and everything."

"I did not swoon," Dream protested.

"You kind of did, actually," said Hob. "I've never seen someone just crumple so dramatically."

"Oh, have you seen many people faint, then?"

"No, but--"

"I'm going to man the till," said Rachel, patting Dream on the arm. "I don't think I want to be in the middle of this. Let me know if you want me to take you home, Dream." She winked at him. "Unless you'd rather Hob do it."

Johanna was never this meddlesome, Dream thought bitterly. She just made fun of him and left it at that.

Then he was alone with Hob, which was both an exciting and anxiety-inducing state of affairs. He clutched his water bottle for balance.

"Um. I got you this," said Hob, and handed him the muffin. "Made them this morning."

Dream was really quite hungry, so despite Hob's poor coffee record, he took a bite of the muffin.

And this was how he learned that Hob was utterly lacking in coffee-making skills because all his talent was in baking.

The chocolate was so rich, it tasted more like cake than a muffin. the chocolate chips melted on his tongue, and he had to force himself not to just immediately take another huge bite. He really was so hungry. Perhaps, now that he knew he could get such things here, he would have a reason to visit the cafe other than just Hob -- and a reason to eat breakfast, too.

"Good?" said Hob, and Dream nodded, licking the melted chocolate from his lips, and he didn't fail to notice Hob watching the movement of his tongue. Perhaps Johanna and Rachel were right, and it wasn't hopeless, even if Dream's best attempt at flirting back was collapsing onto the floor.

He did not know what possessed him then. Perhaps it was the chocolate. Perhaps it was the worry still lingering in Hob's warm eyes, or maybe he had just hit his head and forgotten about it. Either way, he leaned forward in his seat, and kissed Hob on the lips.

His lips were so soft. Just as Dream had dreamt they would be. Hob made a sound of surprise against Dream's mouth, and caught him by the arms so he wouldn't fall out of his chair. Which was a definite possibility, though now the lightheadedness was not caused by a calorie deficit but rather because he was kissing Hob.

Hob who was kissing him back, too. Softening against his mouth, licking the remaining chocolate from Dream's lips. Would Hob hug him, too? If he had already caught him? Dream had fantasized so much about being hugged by Hob.

Only one way to find out. He leaned into Hob's arms, and Hob caught him again, wrapping his arms around Dream's back. He was so warm, and strong. He was wonderful.

"It is a good thing," he said into Hob's shoulder.

"What is?"

"You noticing me."

Hob chuckled. The sound rumbled through Dream's chest. "It's not hard to do. I've been eyeing you for a while, you know. I always hoped you'd talk to me more."

"I am not very good at talking more," said Dream.

"I think I've got that now." Hob pulled back to look at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled. "Falling over is more your style."

"I only faint on occasion," Dream protested, which only seemed to amuse Hob more.

"Well. If talking is a bit tough, maybe we can go for a walk sometime?" He tucked a strand of Dream's hair behind his ear, and Dream shivered. Hob clocked it, too, and let his hand rest on the back of Dream's head, fingers curled in his hair as his gaze flicked to Dream's lips and back up. "Or. Something else?"

Dream thought something else might make him spontaneously combust. That might have to wait a bit, at least until he could cope with Hob looking at him like that without feeling like he was about to explode in a flurry of butterflies.

"A walk, if you will hold my hand," he said, and Hob smiled, and took his hand, and Dream learned that all dreams really could come true at once.

#this is SO silly #hob is literally the most average guy and dream is salivating with lust and completely ferally obsessed with him #it's mutual tho dream is literally a gremlin and hob is like 😍 wow he's beautiful he's like an angel #and then they lived happily ever after #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #my writing #sex scene between these two would be funny as fuck i think hob would touch dream once and he would come instantly and maybe also faint

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naariel · 6 months

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Brunebjørn Druid Halsin

Based on Kvitebjørn Kong Valemon by Theodor Kittelsen. As a kid I always really enjoyed that painting, and the norwegian folktale it depicts. So naturally I had to recreate it with Halsin and Gaia.

#halsin #bg3 #i mean the story isn't very similar at all #just the imagery!#the princess sees a bear with a golden wreath she's dreamed of - she agrees to go live with him in exchange for it #at night the bear transforms into a man #well... she can't resist temptation and she looks #turns out he was cursed by a witch #the only way to be free was to keep the princess with him without seeing him in his human form for x amount of years #now that she's looked him however the witch won and he must now marry the witch instead #so he takes off #she follows after the best she can #and eventually frees him #oh hey that last part actually applies #and then they lived happily ever after

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33vampstarz · 2 months

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this concept art of them…

#tlou2 #tlou #ellie williams #dina nolastname #the last of us #the last of us 2 #and then they lived happily ever after #tlou 2 #ellie tlou #dina tlou #ellie and dina #ellie x dina #ellie the last of us #dina the last of us #tlou ellie #tlou dina

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justsunandstars · 6 months

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my take on wriollette soulmate au

bcos why the hell not

Everyone knows that dragons don’t have such thing as the One. They live too long, and there are very few creatures living just as long. Such fate really broke partner limitations for them but also left them alone, forever, without the promise of having someone out there, who’s intended for them from the beginning.

Wriothesley, as many people in Teyvat, knows this legend of course. Being in Duke position he somehow gets the info, that Neuvillette is hydro-dragon. He’s still in doubt, but Iudex visiting fortress and sealing the well leading to Primordial Sea only confirms his thoughts on the matter.

So Wriothesley stops his attempts to find out Neuvillette’s name (there wasn't much hope anyway that unreadable symbols on his chest have any sense at all. It’s neither familiar writing of Fontaine nor it is how other nations of Teyvat write their words). He used to look at his reflection a lot, but he stops eventually, coming to terms with never knowing what is written on his body.

His acceptance is the main reason he doesn’t really notice the look Neuvillette’s giving him, reading his first name on the man's bare chest, right above the heart, written in a language long gone, language used even before the existence of Remuria.

#wriollette #neuvithesley #neuvillette #wriothesley #fontaine #genshin impact #soulmate au #idk i just love them dearly #but they deserve some angst before the happiness #i live for hurt/comfort tbh #imo neuvi says nothing about the name on wriothesleys chest but he gives him muuuch more attention from this time now on #it's stupid pining for weeks after this but yk wriothesley isnt really stupid so he just asks one day like yo monsieur whats goin on #and neuvillette answers to him honest and all #and then they lived happily ever after #my post #mine

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julesdaydreams · 8 days

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Wolfstar One-Shot

based on a tiktok by @ziggityler I word count: 1852

Basically: Remus meets Sirius at the grocery store and proceeds to fall head over heels for the man. Also: A lot of flirting and sexual tension (I guess)

Remus was walking through the aisles at the grocery store, trying to find the last one of the ingredients he needed for his planned Friday night dinner with his friends. He was walking past the aisle where they displayed the haircare products, not really paying attention since he didn’t need anything, when something in the corner of his eye caught his gaze.

He turned his head, doing a double take at the man standing in the aisle, carefully reading the backside of one of the hair products they had. He was pretty, really pretty. All long wavey black hair, that clearly needed a lot of time and attention to look as healthy and shiny as it was, porcelain skin and high cheekbones. He was wearing a black leather jacket that looked very loved, a cropped shirt underneath with a print on it that Remus couldn’t quite read from his position. Low-rise jeans that showed off the man’s downright sinful waist and hips, that Remus felt the sudden need to hold on to with his hands, trace the soft skin with his fingers.

He suddenly snapped out of it, when the man turned to his side, catching Remus with his staring and throwing him an amused glance before putting the shampoo he was holding down and picking up a different one.

Remus’ feet seemingly began to walk on their own, down the aisle he really had no business being in. He came to a stop a few paces next to the man, trying to look interested in the hair products displayed, but really he had no idea what any of them where really for.

Even if he had been paying attention, it would’ve been for nothing, as the smaller man moved and literal heaven waved over to Remus.

He couldn’t describe the scent even if he wanted to, but it was something divine and otherworldly like the owner himself.

And clearly Remus’ brain stopped working because instead of getting home and thinking of the stranger for the next few days before forcing himself to move on, he opened his mouth like a fucking idiot.

“Excuse me? Could you maybe tell me which one of these products I need to use? You look like you know a lot more about these things than I do?”, he asked, making the stranger drop the shampoo he was holding into his basked before turning his attention to him.

And thank fuck for the shopping cart he could lean on, because Remus’ legs might have given out at how beautiful his eyes where.

Grey piercing eyes looked up at him and Remus would happily be ruined by the raging storm that lay behind them.

A smirk. And lord have mercy, Remus might actually combust on the spot under this angel’s attention.

“Oh darling, you have short hair. I don’t think any of these products will work for you. Buying them for a partner?”, a velvety voice inquired and Remus had to stop himself from practically shouting that he was single. If there was any chance that he’d get the man to call him “darling” just one more time, Remus could die a happy man.

“No! No- Uhm… I don’t have a partner.” Smooth, Lupin.

The angel hummed, a small smirk still playing on his lips and Remus desperately wanted to see it expand into a smile. Would sell his left kidney for it.

“What do you need these for then?”, came another question and well. Remus clearly had just dug his own grave because he had no other excuse for why he needed hair products that he now read where ‘to strengthen long hair’.

He accepted defeat. Maybe that was what he was destined to do anyways in the present of a divine being. He didn’t even feel ashamed about it.

“I guess you got me. I-” think, Lupin, THINK! “I actually wanted to ask you what perfume you’re wearing? You smell incredible.” Okay. That wasn’t too bad. Maybe a bit creepy to ask a stranger about something like that, but Remus didn’t want to be rejected just yet, postponing the inevitable really.

Still, it got him an actual smile from the stranger and is was everything and more than Remus could’ve ever imagined.

“Oh, thank you, love. That’s very kind of you. Do you want me to send you links where to buy the products I use?” Love, love, love. He called me love. Is he flirting? He looks like he’s flirting. Oh my god, what if he IS flirting?? Get it together, Lupin. He’s just a man! Except he’s got really pretty eyes and-

“Hello? Do you want me to send you some recommendations or not?”, an amused voice pulled Remus out of his thoughts and he actually processed the question he had been asked.

“You- You want my phone number?” He had to get it together, he was probably looking like a deer caught in headlights right now, but the thought of a literal angel being interested in Remus seemed unreal. Maybe he was dreaming. Or he was actually dead and this was an actual angel in front of him. It wouldn’t surprise him.

The pretty man chuckled slightly at Remus before something shifted in his eyes. Something dangerous and alluring that sent shivers down Remus’ spine and all over his body. He was in so much fucking shit.

“If that is something you want to give me?” The audacity of him. He actually sounded cocky. Like he knew he had Remus wrapped around his finger. Like he didn’t even care he had complete control over Remus’ body and soul if he wanted to.

“Yeah! Totally, I would really like that actually.” A phone was pressed into his hand and Remus almost let it drop when the other’s fingers slightly graced his own, sending a shock through his whole body. He quickly typed in his contact info before giving it back to it’s owner who only glanced at it once before pocketing it.

“Well, Remus. As nice at this was, I really have to get going. I’ll send you those links later, though, I promise.” The pretty man said, flashing him one last stunning smile before starting to turn around, another breeze of heaven reaching Remus. He couldn’t even think about how good his name sounded coming out of the man’s mouth, all thought process going to the fact that the angel was leaving and he wanted to prevent that.

“I really wish I could smell as good as you, right now.”, he blurted out. Silently cursing himself for being weird again, before he had even stopped talking.

However, it worked. Remus could’ve cheered, when the stranger turned back towards him, looking highly amused at Remus’ behaviour.

“You’re in luck. I always carry around some of my scented oils. You want some?”, he said, pulling out a small vial from his bag, showing it to Remus.

Remus could only nod dumbly, thinking about how he was going to walk around smelling the man’s perfume all day. Maybe he should cancel tonight’s get-together with his friends so he could spend more time thinking about the beauty standing in front of him.

“Could you put some on my neck?”. he heard himself practically beg, braincells having stopped working completely at this point.

“How do you want me to do that? I can’t reach up to your neck in the middle of the store, it’s going to look like I hit you!”, came the angel’ response. It sounded logical to Remus, but he figured he would think that about anything the stranger said, even if it had been complete and utter bullshit.

“What should I do then?”

“Get on your knees.” And that. Fuck. That was just- Remus didn’t even know. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him and he was imagining the way those grey eyes sparkled at him mischievously, like he knew exactly what the implication was behind his words, what it made Remus think about. What Remus desired the second the connection was made in his brain.

He needed an out. He needed to save himself from getting a boner in the middle of the grocery store thinking about all the noises he could elicit from those red lips.

“Uhm- What?” He hoped he misheard. He hoped he understood the man completely right. He wanted it to be a dream and he wanted it to be reality. He had no idea what he would do if he heard correctly.

“You heard me. Get on your knees.” A challenging look, dark eyebrow raised slightly and Remus sank down to his knees right then and there without a second thought. If the angel told him to crawl on all fours he might’ve just done it.

A chuckle. A mumbled good boy, that had Remus’ head spinning and soon there were no thoughts at all as he looked up in those mesmerizing grey eyes.

Sirius put some of the oil on his pointer finger, touching Remus by the delicate skin behind his ear and he had to suppress a groan at the contact.

The eye-contact was something Remus had never experienced before. Goosebumps erupted all over his body as a slender finger dragged down the side of his neck and all the way down to his throat where it circled for a second, teasing just under the hem of Remus’ shirt, before dragging back up the other side of his face and rested behind Remus’ ear.

He didn’t breath when a thumb came up caressing his chin, tilting it up just that bit more.

Remus would never be the same again. He would never move on from this moment in his life. Would think about it later when his friends where enjoying dinner, joking about stupid things they did at school and Remus wouldn’t listen to a single thing, mentally still on his knees before his angel. He would think about it in a few weeks time when he was at a bar talking to another man who had blonde hair and he would wish it was black. He would think about it when he was old and grey, when he’d lived a good life and he would still say that this, this right here, was the best moment of his entire life.

The stranger dropped his hand and Remus just stayed there on the floor, shopping cart next to him long forgotten and he suddenly realized that he didn’t even know his angel’s name.

“What’s your name?” His voice came out scratchy, desperate.

“You’ll see it when I text you.” A wink. And he was gone.

---

From: Unknown number

9:57pm Hi, here are the products I would recommend you. twelve links attached

9:59pm I’m Sirius, by the way. Any chance you’re free for dinner tomorrow night?

My treat, x

#and then they lived happily ever after #Remus is obsessed with Sirius in every universe and would do ANYTHING that man asked of him #anyways go watch the tiktok story this is based on because I swear that man is such an icon #hp marauders #marauders fandom #remus lupin #sirius black #wolfstar #marauders #remus x sirius #wolfstar oneshot #short story #oneshot

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red-bat-arse · 1 year

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steddie musician AU where Eddie makes it big after s4 and invites Robin and Steve to live with him in Chicago so he can tour and always have a home base -and now he has the resources to buy a bit more for himself so he makes sure a good studio space gets installed in the house

and ofc Robin's already musically inclined so she likes to help Eddie fuck around with weird trumpet solos for experimental songs, and Steve learnt piano as a kid but never had the opportunity to get creative with it -so when Eddie's gone and Robin's in class, he putters around the studio, learning guitar from Eddie's books and adapting to a keyboard and having fun with synths and singing. that lack of expectations and freedom to have fun is what trips him into making his own music

he puts together a few songs and asks Nancy to listen to them -he knows she'll be honest about whether he's wasting his time with this, since he at least wants to make music Robin or Eddie could give a pass to. but to his surprise she tells him he's good, and if he wanted to he could make a little extra money playing alternative nights at clubs. needing a second, more objective from a personal connection standpoint, opinion, he asks Argyle, who actually worked at a record store for a bit

Argyle, without asking bc he thought it went without saying, passes the cassette on to a few buddies of his in the local live music scene and later introduces them to Steve when they want to have him at one of their regular places. Steve goes with Robin who he asks not to tell anyone -he doesn't want to distract Eddie while the guy's making a big name of himself, and maybe Steve feels embarrassed or inadequate about being late to the game and doing it as a hobby, so he also uses a pseudonym. 'Zdev' maybe, if we want to parallel 'Djo'

he finds out he really likes it, so he starts doing small gigs for bars or parties Jonathan connects him with. puts a short album on cassette that he recorded at home, has fun with it even as the songs become more personal. but by then 'Zdev' has a little local fame and one of his cassettes is picked up by some label and they reach out -Steve definitely doesn't expect it, because psychedelic rock kind of faded from radio play after the 70s, but now he's being faced with a record deal he isn't sure he wants and no idea how to handle it

so he calls Eddie, who comes racing back from recording with the band out in LA, thankfully not ditching at too inconvenient a point

and Eddie nearly doesn't believe it at first but once he gets his hands on a tape so he can get an idea of the sound, he's obsessed. while he's a metalhead to the core, he's never heard Steve sing before (let's use twenty twenty as the album here) and there's something about the way Steve ties the groove to a sense of melancholy that digs into his skull. it also doesn't help that some of the songs set off alarm bells bc they talk about loving a girl or packing up and leaving or feeling adrift and they make him want to stick as close as possible lest they turn out to be true

he helps Steve through it, pretty well versed in the industry by now (i'm thinking its about 5 years post Vecna) but he's quietly worrying over the album's content the whole time. they go through the re-recording process, which ofc Eddie really wants to hear, but with Steve still being embarrassed he doesn't end up sitting in on any; but they talk over each song before and after and its so easy to drift back into hinting at the mutual attraction they'd each independently resigned to pass them by, back when Eddie first moved away after 86. and eventually it comes out that the album was Steve's way of, yeah, having fun, but also exorcising feelings from his past in Hawkins. that there's only one song that's really about his life now, and he didn't put it on the cassette but he's planning on including it on the LP

by now its pretty obvious to Steve that Eddie is flirting back, not to mention the guy put a hold on recording his own work to help Steve out, which is easy to read into. so he finally invites Eddie to sit in for the recording of the last song, which he's hoping will be subtle enough that he can bluff if it doesn't go well, but if Eddie is on the same page, it'll be clear. the song he plays is Mutual Future (Repeat)

it's got a long winding intro of just guitar that Eddie sits through, unaware, and Steve starts singing low, almost just his speaking voice the croon is so subtle, and when he meets Eddie's eyes through the glass to ask will you be mine?

well, Eddie gets it. and while there's not a lot of privacy in a recording studio, he eventually finds a small filing room he can kiss Steve stupid in until quitting time for the day comes and goes

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #djo music #musician au #st fanfic #ficlet #and then they lived happily ever after #love the idea that steve gets into music bc eddie unknowingly plays the enabler #eddie waxing poetic about how relaxing the process can be #steve: a no pressure hobby you say #i know nothing about 1990s recording culture #I do know about 1970s disco recording culture #would eddie be successfully making metal music in 1991? maybe #but lets be honest he probably adapted a little #went grunge or rock until he was established

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pharawee · 1 year

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I know who will stand by me always.

It has always been you.

Thiwa, my love.

#i will knock you #i will knock you the series #bom thanawat #tar atiwat #noeythi #iwkyedit #thai drama #thaidrama #thai bl #bl series #bl drama #my edits.#and then they lived happily ever after #(which will probably happen after next week but)#(i'm sad now so...)#thiwa my love #why are these the sweetest words that have ever been spoken in the history of bl

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33max · 10 months

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Day Ten, Cock Warming - Summer of Cum 🤍

It’s out of desperation more than anything else when Max asks for it. Desperation to keep Daniel with him for just a little while longer, delay the inevitable moment where Daniel will thank him for a good time and walk out of the door like he always does.

He’s on his knees for Daniel again, has already let Daniel fuck his throat, has swallowed his cum like a fine fucking wine. He feels pathetic, begging for it like this, taking anything that Daniel will give him.

“Let me keep you in my mouth,” Max begs around Daniel’s softening cock, the vibration of his words making the other man shudder. “Just for a little while. Please.”

Daniel usually tucks his cock back into his barely pulled-down jeans at this point, overcome with shame the moment his balls are empty. It’s as though he’s hit with a wave of regret as soon as the desire burns away. Max sees it happen every time, sees Daniel’s brow furrow and shoulders go tense, barely able to meet Max’s eyes.

Maybe Daniel doesn’t want to admit that he sleeps with men. Or maybe it’s worse, maybe he just doesn’t want to admit that he sleeps with Max. It’s that thought that makes Max dig his fingernails into his naked thighs, leaving crescent moon indents in the pale skin there. He barely feels it.

“Max,” Daniel sighs, hands resting on Max’s shoulders, ready to deny his request and push him off. Max braces himself for rejection, something he’s unfortunately all too familiar with now.

“Please,” Max begs again, “I need it.”

Daniel hesitates, but then he nods. It could be sympathy, but Max will take what he can get. Tanned hands move from Max’s shoulders up to cradle the back of his head, fingers stroking over the soft hair there. It makes Max’s eyes prickle, being held so tenderly like this by the one person he needs it from.

Max can shut his eyes and pretend they are two entirely different people. Behind his eyelids Daniel is smiling down at him and making jokes so that Max laughs around his cock. When he closes his eyes Daniel never leaves him here, naked in a hotel room, all alone.

But Max can’t keep his eyes closed forever, he doesn’t want to let himself get too lost in fantasy; instead, he looks up at Daniel and tries to commit this moment to memory. Just in case he never gets this again. Daniel always tells him it will be the last time, and one day it will be.

Daniel’s cock is fully soft in his mouth now, getting wetter and wetter with the saliva pooling there as Max tries desperately not to suck. He wants to be good for Daniel, keep him warm and safe in his mouth for as long as possible.

“Max,” Daniel says again, it’s not a warning anymore. It’s pleading, for what Max doesn’t know. Daniel’s face isn’t closed off anymore, it’s cracked open with raw emotion, tears threatening to spill. The way that Daniel is looking at him is exactly how Max knows he looks at Daniel, with desperation and longing.

His hand finds one of Daniel’s and squeezes. Daniel’s palms are sweaty and tacky against his own but it doesn’t stop him tangling their fingers together.

“Please,” Max begs, the seal of his lips around Daniel’s cock breaking and allowing drool to spill from his mouth and down his chin. Please stay.

#writing #summerofcum2023 #cw angst #AND THEN THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER

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pixlerelish · 3 months

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Hardy!

#And then they lived happily ever after #🥲#Main Tera Rasta Dekhunga #Dunki #Hardayal 'Hardy' Singh Dhillon #Manu Randhawa #Shah Rukh Khan #Taapsee Pannu #Pix's pics

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velidewrites · 2 years

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Gwyn: It’s so cold outside, should we hold hands? You know, to preserve the heat.

Azriel: Oh—oh, yes, okay

Nesta:

Nesta: It’s the MIDDLE of JULY

#cassian: so you don’t want to hold my hand?#nesta …i do #and then they lived happily ever after #incorrect acotar quotes #gwynriel #pro gwynriel #gwyn x azriel #gwyneth berdara #pro gwyneth berdara #pro gwyn #gwyn acotar #gwyn acosf #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel acosf #acotar memes #acotar #acosf

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kiwibes · 9 months

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The witcher s3 gives me fully these vibes..

Ciri: this is my mom Yen

Ciri: this is Yen´s boyfriend Geralt

Ciri: this is Geralt´s boyfriend Jaskier

Ciri: and this is Jaskier´s boyfriend Radovid

#and then they lived happily ever after #and I didn´t even mention Vespula #the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #yennefer of vengerberg #cirilla of cintra #the witcher s3

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sgtmickeyslaughter · 3 months

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Hi Gigi! How about 22 and 95? For the prompt game.

Goood morning :)

This one got away from me, I'm not going to lie I'm not at all sure when its supposed to be set, pre-iphone but post horse drawn carriages? I was thinking a lot about pride and prejudice but also like, saltburn? Does turn of the century help? eek thank you for asking bc i never would have written royalty au for this exact reason but this was sooo fun!

22 Royalty AU + 95 Star-Crossed Lovers/Forbidden Friendship

Prince Ian loved his visits to the countryside before he met Mickey, but after that first summer he spent with the impish dark haired boy, the excitement he felt as they drove out from the confines of the city and into the expanse of rolling hills and idlic willow trees was that much sweeter.

That first summer, when Ian was only six, he learned that they’d hired a new family to be the main grounds keepers for the country estate that the royal family took refuge in for some summer months. They’d all lined up by the driveway to bow to Ian’s mother and father at they made their way up the slightly bumpy path. Ian remembers being fascinated by how harsh looking the mother and father were, and how intimidating the older bothers were as well, and how he almost didn’t notice the two youngest, a nearly identical boy and girl hiding behind their mother.

“Ian, quit staring and sit properly!” His mother had scolded when he’d stood up on his seat to continue looking at them out the back window.

“Who are those people?” He’d asked.

“The new grounds staff” his mother said dismissively. “Leave them alone to do their work.”

The country estate was Ian’s favorite place in the world, he’d decided. Because once his parents finished setting them up with nannies and tutors they would travel back to the city and stay there until the end of summer. They all deemed the property safe, it had sheltered members of his family through two world wars for gods sake. It was somewhat remote and deceptively inconspicuous so he had pretty much free reign of the place, a luxury he did not take lightly.

That first summer Ian made fast friends with the family’s youngest boy, and Debbie took to pestering the girl when her and Carl weren’t creating stress for some other member of the staff in the form of horrible children’s pranks. Mickey was the boys name, and he was just a year older, like Philip. It was the first year Lip didn’t come, he joined Fiona as the heirs in their parents press charity circuit, and continued tutoring through the summer.

Ian would lay back next to Mickey under one of the sweeping trees along the property, after a game of Jacks or would you rather, and think about how happy he was to be a spare child, highly unlikely to ever take the throne.

Mickey’s initial curiosity about the royal family diminished when he realized Ian was just a normal, slightly dopey boy as a child, but he seemed happy to have a friend, especially one as naïve as Ian.

Summers came and went, as they got older, Mickey and Mandy had more poorly explained bruises until the summer they arrived and Mickey’s father was missing from their little caravan on the driveway. They were thirteen and fourteen, and it seemed like over the last few summers they reunited looking virtually recognizable save for the clear friendship between them.

Ian's mother told him that the father died tragically of a heart attack, but Mickey told a different story once they were alone, “got stabbed with a bottle in a bar fight, and he was such a jackass all his life no one tried to save him.”

He sounded a little sad, but for the first time in years his lovely pale face was free from dark splatters of discoloration, so Ian wasn’t too broken up about it. He just slung an arm around his shoulders as they walked down to the river to see if they could catch some fish.

Some nights, as they got older, Ian would wake up to find Mickey at the bottom of his window, grinning up at him. He was working on the grounds now, since school was out and he was able bodied, so they didn’t have time together during the day. He’d lead Ian out into the patch of trees that constituted a small forest to smoke cigarettes and laugh all night.

Occasionally, his sister Mandy joined them, laughing and flirting with Ian much to Mickey’s annoyance. On the summer Mickey tuned seventeen, he was missing one night, but Mandy appeared from the darkness alone.

“Um- not that I don’t enjoy your company Mandy, but where’s Mickey?”

“Oh, Mickey’s gotten very close to a boy from school this year, he’s hanging out with him,” she said lasciviously around the butt of a cigarette. “If you know what I mean.”

“I’m sorry, I really don’t” Ian responded, a horrid feeling creeping up his stomach.

“I mean, ma caught them in a very compromising situation behind the woodshed,” she explained further, teasing. “He’s lucky dad’s dead, or he’d have killed him with a shovel and buried him with the murder weapon right then and there.”

She must have noticed the stricken look on Ian’s face. “Oh, I thought you knew,” she said, sounding genuinely remorseful “I mean, you’re his closest friend.”

Ian just nodded and moved on, but when Mickey came alone the next night, Ian followed him tensely. Mickey must have noticed something was up, Ian wasn’t usually so spacey, but he ignored it until they were making the trek back in the early morning hours and Ian stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

Mickey looked concerned finally, and when he opened his mouth to question him, Ian surged forward, clumsily pressing against his body and kissing him with a hand on his cheek.

Mickey pulled back slightly, brushing his nose against Ian’s, his clear eyes searching calmly “What was that?”

“I-” Ian had started quietly and nervously. “I think you’re the strangest and loveliest creature I’ve ever seen, I’m very fond of you Mickey.”

If he hadn’t been so nervous, he would have done a better job of savoring how soft Mickey’s skin was, how warm he felt in contrast with the soft morning mist. But luckily he had that whole summer to learn of softness and warmth and the form that working land gives a young man.

He was so in love with Mickey it must have been written all over his face, and he was too ignorant to realize how dangerous that was. When his mother and father came to pick them up, his mother started a terse conversation.

“Ian, did you enjoy your summer?” She’d asked.

“Hm?” He’d said. “Oh, yes. I made my way through the eighteenth century collection in the library, such a fascinating time.”

“Well, that is wonderful” she’d said easily. “Since you won’t be able to return while you’re in university.”

“What are you talking about?” Ian asked, panic rising in his chest.

“Well, when you’re studying full time during the school year,” she began. “When exactly, do you expect to be fulfilling your duties as a royal?”

Ian wasn’t a child anymore, he knew exactly what she was saying, and he slumped down in his seat, willing tears not to fall.

He had flings in university, and got a taste of life outside the palace walls, so to speak. But each new experience, each wonderful moment of joy and accomplishment he wished he was able to share with the raven haired boy he’d fallen so in love with.

When he was able to return to the estate for the first time in five years, he’d nearly jumped out of the car when he saw Mandy, but deflated instantly when she told him that Mickey was gone.

“Gone? Gone where?”

“I don’t know, Ian” she admitted. “One day he just…left, no one knows where he went.”

“But how could he do that?” Ian asked, heartbroken.

“I’m sorry did you expect him to sit around here, tending to your plants and waiting for you to magically appear?” Mandy said, only a little meanly.

“No-I just, I thought he knew that I would do everything I could to get back to him,” Ian admitted thickly.

Mandy softened, “Mickey and I aren’t like you. Nothing will ever be handed to us, so Mickey’s decided to go out and take his share of life. If you love him you can’t blame him for that.”

Ian nodded, but he only stayed for a week, returning to the city and nearly shouting at the knowing look in his mothers eye.

He privately contracted people to look for Mickey, over the next few years they would catch wind of him in Kyiv, or Istanbul, or Paris before they’d lose the trail again. Finally, one morning an agent came to Ian while he was enjoying an early breakfast.

“You won’t believe what he’s done” she said with a grin.

Acting crazy was surprisingly easy. Set a few of ancient relics they’d been hoarding for a couple dozen centuries on fire, walk naked into the parliament during a session, it didn’t take much before his mother confronted him about what exactly he was trying to achieve.

“Well,” he’d said. “I’m afraid the pressures of royal life make me quite chronically nervous, must be the stress boiling over.”

“And what exactly do you plan to do about it?” She said tensely, seething below the surface.

“Well, I’ve been thinking that since I am merely one spare among four maybe I should step out of the public eye, before I do something to drastic to embarrass the crown. Publish one of my history books every few years so people know I am not locked in the tower or anything and otherwise, keep quiet.”

“And I don’t suppose you were thinking of retiring to the family estate up north?”

“Oh, mother” Ian grinned genially. “That is such a wonderful idea, and it hadn’t even occurred to me.”

So at the age of thirty Ian walked into the Red Door Pub, the very bar where Terry Milkovich had died on the floor. He walked up to the nearest employee, with a broad smile “excuse me, may I speak with the owner? My new grounds staff are just loosing it, and I believe he may have some expertise to share.”

#and then they lived happily ever after #how am i supposed to tell a thirty year love story in less and a thousand words #gallavich #shameless #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #sgt says #gallavich fanfic #prompt game

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