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#s: stevie
halsingf · 4 months
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stevie!!!!
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thegroovyarchives · 23 days
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Stevie Wonder, Rainbow Theatre, London, January 29th, 1974. Photographer: Michael Putland
From The Illustrated History Of Rock Music, Jeremy Pascall, 1984
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stevienicksrarities · 4 months
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Stevie performs with Fleetwood Mac in 1976
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artiststarme · 1 year
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The first (and only) tattoo that Steve ever gets is a small letter “E” on the inside of his right wrist. Whenever anyone asks what it stands for, he just shrugs his shoulders.
“It obviously stands for “everyone”. It’s an E, what else would it mean?”
He says this so many times, the Party believes him. As ridiculous as E for everyone sounds, Steve can be very convincing when he wants to be and they all believe him eventually.
But when an “S” shows up on Eddie’s wrist a few weeks later, the reasoning behind the E doesn’t sound so believable anymore. Especially when the Party finds out that Steve and Eddie have been dating in secret for months without letting anyone but Robin know.
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stevebabey · 1 year
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hiii ruby !!! congrats on ur milestone i think ur so cool and funny and ofc so so deserving :D for ❤️‍🔥 can i request forehead against forehead from prompt list 5 bc i am a sucker for it <33 thank u ily !
ahhh!!! anna you are so lovely <3 thank u sm for picking this one it opened pandoras BOX in my brain and i think this is by far my absolute favourite i've written this whole damn celebration & its bcos its, of course, friends to lovers <3 - 1.7k+
The wish is far-fetched.
You knew that from the beginning and yet, like wishes were stackable, like wishing for something over and over would improve its odds of happening, you couldn’t help yourself. Every eyelash, every time the hands of the clock line up at 11.11, you wish desperately.
Eyes scrunched closed, you wish for Steve.
You have him, of course, just not quite as you want him.
It feels selfish, the hungry feeling that rises in your chest when you look at him too long, eyes drinking in every detail you adore. Long lashes, hazel eyes, lips so pink it wasn’t fair. You want him all to yourself. These are not the usual thoughts of a best friend.
Sometimes, the yearning seems to carve out every part of you til you feel hollow inside; because you’d offer it all out to him, every piece of yourself between your cupped hands, his if he only wanted it.
You want him to want it. To want you. Badly.
So, you wish. At this point, it feels more like a habit than anything — the clock hits eleven minutes past 11 and you send a little prayer out to the universe to give you this one thing. You don’t notice how Steve notices.
He can’t quite connect the dots in the beginning, can’t see the pattern that strings together all the things he’s noticed. How from time to time, you’ll close your eyes and squint just a bit— but then, quick as it happens, it’s gone. You’ll open your eyes, look over back at him, and continue on as if nothing has occurred.
Steve doesn’t pry, even though he really wants to — the first time you notice him watching you, he raises his brows, a silent what was that? with a hope you’ll clue him in. He wants in on all your secrets. But in an instant, he can see the embarrassment creep across your features, so he drops it, waving his hand, and resumes talking, eyes back on the road ahead of him.
After a month of subtlety catching the habit of yours that he's come to cherish, the sweet scrunch of your eyes and gentle clench of your fists at your side, Steve notices the clock.
You check the clock, most of the time, before your eyes flutter closed. It happens late in the morning and close to midnight. But then again also at random intervals, at times he’s not expecting. The frustrating pattern evades him even though he’s noticing. Noticing is, infuriatingly, not enough.
It takes another month for Steve to realise you’re wishing.
He’s enamored with the habit now — especially, now he knows you’re sending little hopes, blowing on eyelashes with the fervor of a little kid. The craving to know your secrets, to be trusted with your wishes, has grown ten-fold since he first noticed. Steve notices just about everything about you now.
It’s hard not to. What started as trying to comprehend your peculiar pattern, has become... something entirely different. Steve feels helpless to do anything but admire you now. His feelings for you have become startlingly fond, borderline sappy.
The sound of your laughter and how it threads gold into his days marvels him. The colour of your eyes in the morning light. How you curl up in his passenger seat like it’s the comfiest place you’ve ever known, like you could sit there all day with him. If he asked. 
He’s pretty sure his heart strayed from best friend territory the moment he figured out the wishes. Maybe, he’s fooling himself and it’s always been this way.
It’s on his mind, even as the two of you sit at the back of the Hawk theatre, some garbage Sci-Fi film flickering on the screen. Normally, the back of the cinema was unofficially reserved for couples that wanted to make-out — Steve had pulled that move on a dozen dates. Picked a cheesy romance and the cozy darkness of the back of the theatre.
This is not the same, he knows. It’s not a cheesy romance film, you’re not quite at the back, and most importantly, this is not a date.
Steve really wishes it was.
“Hey,” Your whisper shakes him from his thoughts. Steve’s gaze moves from boring into the back of the chair in front of him to your concerned face. “Y’okay?” 
You’ve turned towards him, shoulders hunched over like you might disturb other people in the cinema if you’re too big. It’s silly, there’s barely anyone else in here but you and Steve. A couple people a few rows forward.
Steve nods, throat dry. You don’t look convinced, eyes narrowing for a moment as if you’ll say something when your expression shifts. You focus on something below his eye.
“What?” Steve whispers, too aware of your fixed stare. His nerves creep up, feeling a bit flushed beneath your attention. Your hand comes up, reaching out to graze across his cheek and Steve forces himself to stay still. To not melt into the touch.
“S’just an eyelash.” You whisper, still focused. Thumb moving gently as you can, you sweep the eyelash beneath his eye off his cheek. It moves an inch but remains stubbornly on his skin. You huff silently, turn his way a little more, and lean in closer to try pinch it. It takes a moment as you try your best not to pinch Steve at the same time.
When you finally snag it between your fingertips, victory comes in the form of your pleased smile. It takes another moment to realise just how close you’ve gotten to Steve. Leaned over, his breath fans over your face and you can see the film reflected in his eyes, action sequences playing far, far away.
Faintly, you think that if you had your wish already, you could lean in a few inches further and steal a kiss. You think of the eyelash in your fingertips.
The thought knocks sense back into you, blinking hard, but just as you go to pull back Steve’s eyes flash down to your lips. He licks his own, then swallows, looks back up at you. A wretched thread of hopes keeps you from pulling back just yet — desperately praying you’re not reading into nothing.
Steve doesn’t pull back. His heart has hiked so far up his throat he’s surprised he’s able to get any words out at all.
“What are you wishing for?” He croaks, too quiet. You hear it anyways.
Surprise shows on your face, lips parting and eyes widening just a moment. Steve wants you to give back the eyelash just so he can make his very own wish right now.
“How did you... know?” The last word is meek, only audible because Steve is so close. He wants to be closer. He moves an inch, recalling every single time he’s gotten the signals right in the past to keep him from losing his nerve. Tries not to think about what he might lose should he be wrong this time.
“You,” He huffs a little laugh, searching your eyes, trying to see if it’s the same hope he feels inside that he’s seeing in your eyes. “You close your eyes and wish on every 11.11. And— and eyelashes and dandelions too. You do this little squint, like you’re thinking real hard about what you want.”
Unable to help himself, Steve steals another glance at your lips as your tongue darts out to lick them nervously. His chest rises and falls a bit fast, nerves urging his pulse to run faster, faster. God, he’s nervous. Steve can’t remember ever being so nervous at the mere chance of just a kiss.
“So, what're you wishing for?” He asks again, in a whisper just for you two.
The film illuminates the side of your face, shadows dancing across the lines of your cheek. You’re beautiful, Steve thinks, achingly so. The silence twists his heart painfully. He doesn’t know you’re merely gathering your hopes to spit out the honest answer.
“You.”
You whisper the word quickly, knowing if you have a moment to think about it you’ll tuck it and all your selfish desires back away into your heart. But you ache for this moment — hunger devouring your insides with how much you want to kiss the boy before you. Enough that you’ll risk it.
It’s worth the risk.
The single word sets Steve off and he closes the distance between you in an instant, lips against yours. It’s gentle as he can manage while his heart works overtime pumping molten-hot affection into every part of his body. He feels giddy. He nearly forgets to memorise the curve of your lips, the warmth of this against his own, it feels so deliriously good to be kissing you. He thinks he’s been missing this his whole life.
You look a little dazed when Steve pulls back, lips with a sheen that catches the flashes of the cinema screen. You don’t speak, just blink and sink your teeth into your bottom lip, mind miles away. Your lack of a smile worries Steve; he feels like he could burst with how he wants to beam if this is what you want too.
He gathers his courage and presses forward again, til his forehead against yours. Tells you what he knows to be true, what you’ve been dying to hear. “You have me.”
Your eyes snap up to meet his and you give Steve a flood of relief, lips pulling into a smile. A small laugh of disbelief titters out of you, your smile transforming into a grin that betrays your utter happiness. This close, you let the want take over you and lean in to steal another kiss off his lips. He gives it to you sweetly and oh-so-willingly.
You stay this close, nose nuzzling against his, both your heads bowed to meet each other in the middle.
“I’ve been wishing on you for months,” You admit bashfully, your whisper wobbling in your embarrassment. You’re worried the enormity of your want for him will scare him off. Steve’s grin somehow gets wider, eyes somehow fonder. His voice comes out a bit scratchy, all sticky with affection.
“I think you’ve had me the whole time.”
It’s the honest truth. You’re not even mad about lost time because when he kisses you again like that, there’s no doubt that now? He’s all yours.
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acrystalvision · 5 months
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Fleetwood Mac, 1977
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women-4life · 7 months
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WOMEN I LOVE ❤️
I also posted this on my tiktok - @_fan_of_people_
and instagram - @_fan_of_people
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emeritusterzo · 1 year
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every day i have to live with that fact that danhausen wore crop tops to the gym and stopped
WHY DAN WHY
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howdoyousleep3 · 8 months
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Hey, K, I woke up this morning, and I couldn't stop thinking about Stevie Baby's ears. So, I wrote you a little something about the Thoughts™️, and I just now have a minute to send it to you. Hear me out:
Obviously, yes, the ear rubbing. Daddy James will often get him on his knees while he's working and doesn't really, unfortunately, have time to totally give into Stevie's needs. Then, if Steve's been good, he'll get to cockwarm James, and he'll get absent-minded ear rubs while he does it. Just if James can spare a hand, this is supposed to just be something to tide him over for now, after all. If Stevie's being a bit of a brat, he doesn't get cock and he only gets ear rubs once he's settled down enough. It's a reward. It's meant to keep him behaving.
So, James calloused, thick, and long fingers soothing back and forth over Steve's ear becomes such a regular occurrence over their relationship, appearing practically whenever Steve is on his knees (no matter if its the main activity or an appetizer). It happens so much that he gets so sensitive and squirmy about it. Now Steve notices his ears all the time. They've never been included in sex before! But... now they are. And now it's A Thing.
Sometimes, he'll get a little thrill when at the barbers, and they touch or bend or move his ears to shape his haircut--getting good straight lines. Sometimes, he spaces out for a moment after he thinks about putting headphones in, he thinks about his ears... he thinks about Daddy touching his ears and cooing at him over the line of his nose, working through some business, or just working through a glass of whiskey.
Daddy calls him a silly puppy sometimes, and Steve feels like one of Pavlov's dogs these days.
Daddy will whisper in his ear a lot, when he's being a brat in public and he needs a warning, when Daddy is thinking filthy shit that's not appropriate for their guests or the people around them, when he feels like ruffling Steve's feathers. He whispers. Daddy will also lick and bite and nip at his ears. It happens a lot when he's fucking him from the back and Steve's head is turned to the side, smashed into the mattress, moaning raggedly, as he takes it hard. James will lean forward and carve himself in deep, all the way inside Steve's guts, in his throat, oh, God, and whisper or growl or, fuuck, moan in his ear. He'll bite his ear if Steve whines about needing it harder, faster, deeper. Brat. He'll lick the shell of his ear to watch him quiver and see goosebumps rise over his skin.
Yeah... suddenly, Steve has sensitive ears? Suddenly, Steve realizes he's had sensitive ears? Whether James caused it or was the only person to ever notice it, it doesn't really matter. What matters is that he Exploits it.
Steve will be doing nothing--actually nothing--and James will come up to him, press him against the nearest surface, kiss him, and "innocently" run his fingers up his chest, over his shoulders, onto his neck, and up his throat until he reaches one of his ears. He'll carress Steve's ear. Just once. Rub it gently. And Steve--
Oh.
Suddenly, his knees feel like buckling, and, ah, when did he start getting hard? When did he start to blush?
It's only made worse when Daddy grins wolfishly at him, so, so pleased, and coos, "ohh, is that the spot, puppy?" as if he's giving scratches to a damn dog in the one place that makes their leg kick rather than making Steve so hard and achy in his pants with just one, innocent touch, bending Steve's body to his own will without Steve being able to do a thing about it because of all the training Daddy has incidentally done.
Yeah.
He feels like Pavlov's dog.
*cough* anyway...
Oh my god, S…
Not the ear rubbing. 😭
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I sunk lower and lower into my couch with every sentence of this. It’s perfection, hot holy hell. The part that sent me under? Daddy James biting at Stevie’s ear because he asked for it impossibly harder, what a brat. 😮‍💨
Thank you for blessing me (us) with this yummy goodness, S. You’re the absolute best. 💕😵‍💫
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theoneswhosingatnight · 7 months
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peculiaritybending · 4 months
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Look how cute these scenes from the New Mutants (+ Stevie) going to the fair are.
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halsingf · 3 months
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classic laundry outfit combo
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stevienicksrarities · 4 months
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The Wild Heart tour 1983
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xxbimbobunnyxx · 5 months
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Me and Steebie inspired by @lesservillain & @babygorewhore 🌞✨🌙🖤
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ilovedamsels1962 · 1 year
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Stevie
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Things I'm not over: their bow at the first show of the tour in Oxford ^
...and them all cheering when they nailed it a few days later in Manchester (x)
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