#muse; steve h

[phoenixmuses]

♡ Continued from here ♡ For @irrcdeemable

Steve's jaw instinctively tightened a bit at the harsh tone, noting the frustration that emanated from the blond in waves.  His hands were on his hips, shoulders squared and eyes fixed on Billy with a combination of wariness and understanding.  Despite their history, the brunette could tell he was making an effort — it was evident in the way he hadn't smacked the crap out of Steve yet.  With a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair and shifted his weight a little, taking a minute to calm himself down.

"You're right," he finally muttered, nodding imperceptibly as his focus returned to Billy, a flash of renewed determination in his umber eyes.  "It's new to us — that's the first step, all right?  It's not just you anymore."  Harrington didn't dare move closer, not yet, not when he wasn't sure how amped up the blond was; he didn't need a repeat of last time, blacking out at the Byers' house and tending to the injuries for at least two weeks after.  "Just relax, man, and take a deep breath.  Changing things — it's not going to happen overnight."

Gradually, he dared to take a step forward, moving at half-speed so that he didn't put him even further on edge.  Reaching out, Steve clapped a hand on his shoulder in a light gesture, trying to ground the blond a little.  "Listen... I know this isn't easy for you, but you have to trust me," he began a little more calmly, his voice steady as he met Billy's gaze head-on, subtly scanning his features for any sign of resistance.  "Those kids, Hargrove?  They're counting on me, on you; we can't let them down, because the consequences are dire."

[spring-lxcked]

mild spoilers in tags but i'm just mad i don't write any actual security bre.ach muses now and i think i need to change that fuck

[ppyopulii]

💭 this dream | ft. lee chan

PREVIEW. The coffee is bitter on his tongue. Chan swivels his head and his eyes land on your figure again across the room, where you’re shaking with laughter from a comment Soonyoung made. It’s like some kind of magic, because when your gaze catches his, you smile and make a tiny wave—and suddenly it’s like he just swallowed a mouthful of his favorite sugar cookie.

FEATURING. lee chan x gn!reader GENRE(S). pining, coming of age, open-ended, fluff LENGTH | WC. <15min | 1.8k EXPLICITS. chan is down bad and seungkwan doesn’t fw it :sadge: also shirtless dino for like 0.2 seconds

JAY’S MUSINGS. when creating saved to library, one of the first people i assigned to an album was dino. i mean, come on—he radiates the passion, dedication, and cheerfulness that the album was made to embody. to my chan, someone who i admire everyday, please remember: you are the future of kpop. you are my future, and i cannot wait for it patiently enough. lots of love to @wooahoe for beta-ing in the nick of time (& for the linguistics lesson!) YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE. saved to library: seventeen // mansae by seventeen // buzz by niki // buttons by lyn lapid // kiss her you fool by kids that fly // daylight by taylor swift // some by steve lacy

Liking you has a problem.

Not that Lee Chan wouldn’t face this problem head-on, oh no; he’d do it without a moment’s hesitation. The thing is, this problem is a little bit more than just an obstacle Chan can jump over or brute force through.

He’s not really sure how Boo Seungkwan would react to being jumped over or pushed over, anyways.

The aforementioned problem is currently tugging at your hair, his face twisted in a scowl while you protest. You would think that by his member’s actions, Seungkwan was the older one, not the other way around.

“Let me go!” You groan, your elbow going to dig at your younger brother. “I already promised you your stupid trip to that new cafe.”

Seungkwan rolls his eyes and begrudgingly lets you shove him away, dusting his hands off like he just took out the trash. Once let go, Chan watches as you huff—you do this little poking of your cheek with your tongue when you exhale, and he fights a smile—and then you immediately have Seungkwan in a headlock, spitting into his ear with all your might.

Chan kind of feels like he’s intruding.

He turns away, busying himself with the iced coffees the staff have brought to the practice room. Courtesy of you, the team is able to have a much-needed coffee break while preparing for their upcoming album release.

This kind of drop-in from you isn’t unexpected, either; you’ve always been more than supportive of Seungkwan in his idol activities, making sure he takes proper care of himself, and you make sure the sentiment extends to the rest of SEVENTEEN as well. It’s not uncommon to see you poking your head into the practice room with a round of catered hotpot during long winter nights, or even just idling around the HYBE building waiting for Seungkwan to take him home.

Is it really a surprise, then, that Chan has the tiniest bit of a crush on you?

You’re everything he could ever dream of: full of passion for your field of industry and exceptionally caring for those around you. Your charm rivals that of the sun, and if anyone were to try to make the claim to him that you didn’t hang up the stars every night, he’s pretty sure that they’d be trying to argue with a brick wall.

The coffee is bitter on his tongue. Chan swivels his head and his eyes land on your figure again across the room, where you’re shaking with laughter from a comment Soonyoung made. It’s like some kind of magic, because when your gaze catches his, you smile and make a tiny wave—and suddenly it’s like he just swallowed a mouthful of his favorite sugar cookie.

A cough, and Chan jumps.

Right. The problem.

Boo Seungkwan stands rigid, save for his eyes that are slowly narrowing in on him. He takes a long sip of the iced coffee in his hand, wipes the condensation off on his sweatpants, and makes a long show of clearing his throat.

“Dino-yah. Shouldn’t you be getting back to practice? You have a solo dance break during the stage. It would be good to go over it with the choreographer again.”

Chan closes his eyes for a moment of peace, before putting on a smile. “Yeah, sounds good.”

He gives the older man a dip of his head in acknowledgement and then turns towards the mirrors. You’re now talking amiably to Seungcheol, hands waving around in excitement about whatever subject has been brought up in conversation.

Chan finds himself forcing autopilot when exchanging words with the choreographer.

Okay, so maybe he’s had more than the tiniest crush on you for a while now. His head swims with memories of your encouraging cheers from the sidelines after finishing up dance practice and the twinkle in your eye when you would lean in close to share a joke only for his ears. He’s been wanting to make a move for some time now, maybe treat you out to dinner as a thank you for your care over him and his members, but Boo Seungkwan’s death glare has stopped him every time.

It’s no secret the man is protective over you. Chan remembers one day during a recording session in the studio when Seungkwan had gotten an unexpected call. His phone only got to buzz once on Woozi-hyung’s glass coffee table before the idol was hurriedly answering, rushing out into the hallway without so much as an explanation. A minute later, Seungkwan stormed back in and told them he would be calling it an early night.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Seungcheol had asked, eyebrows furrowed.

Seungkwan’s usual cheery attitude had been replaced with an eerie, stone-cold expression. Chan remembers shivering slightly at the unfamiliar aura radiating from him.

“Family emergency. I’ll tell you all later when I can.”

Chan would learn a week later that you got broken up with that day—over text, no less. He had no idea you were seeing someone until then, and ever since then, it seemed like Seungkwan was intent on keeping it that way.

Too bad Chan had to fall head over heels for you.

He shakes his arms out, both to get his blood moving and to physically try to rid himself of the memory. The music kicks up, and his muscles tighten, itching to move, a crave he can never resist. There’s a gaze that’s burning a hole through his right cheekbone, one that eventually trails lower to his jawline and the curve of his exposed collarbone.

Chan is suddenly extremely glad he opted for a tank top today.

It’s liberating, being able to become one with the beat. Sure, there’s the cheers from his beloved members, but what really gets him going is the absolute peace he feels when dancing. There’s nothing but the next step, and then the next, and the next, and it’s all in his control. He gets to make the next move, the next choice, and he adores it.

And as Chan moves, he realizes something: it’s no use ruminating on Seungkwan’s determination to keep him away from you.

That was a decision only you could make—and from the delighted whoop! you let out at him taking center stage, Chan is fairly certain you didn’t exactly want him out of your life just yet.

When the music fades to applause from the staff and the rest of the group, all that’s left is the ringing in his ears and a sheer layer of sweat along his forehead. Without thinking, his shirt is being used to wipe away the stickiness, until a loud coughing makes him stop in his tracks.

He almost thinks it's Seungkwan again, ready to berate the younger man for being too provocative in front of his family. Chan whips his head up with a biting comment on his tongue—only to see your figure turning away from him, face in your elbow as you hack up a storm.

Seungkwan’s beside you immediately, patting your back and scolding you like a mother hen to its chick. “You have got to stop drinking water so fast,” he chides, shaking his head.

His legs are starting to become jelly, but Chan drags himself over to the corner you’re in, wringing his lip in worry. Your cheeks are flushed and your eyelashes are fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings. To his embarrassment, his heart betrays him to mirror your actions.

“You okay?” he asks, lips upturning in a smile.

Taking a deep breath, you face him. Seungkwan moves out of the way to stand beside Chan and claps his back a little too hard for his liking. He scowls at your brother, but the laugh you let out is an easy remedy to the sudden tension.

“Yeah,” you huff. “Something just…got stuck in my throat. You were great out there! Really, I was amazed. You’ve improved a ton since the last time I’ve been here.”

Now it’s his turn to really be embarrassed, the tips of his ears growing warm and his breath caught in his throat. Chan swallows back his dignity before it runs straight out of his mouth.

“Ah, thank you. I’ve been working especially hard this comeback for our fans—they always love whatever we put out, but I want to make sure they truly have something to look forward to.”

Your head tilts just the slightest bit, and the practice room lights shine in your eyes. “Well, consider me a super fan, then. Thank you for working so hard for me.”

His cheeks are alight with a heat he didn’t know was humanly possible. This time around, he’s glad for Seungkwan’s interruption, your brother musing out loud at how late it was getting and how you’d need to hurry if you didn’t want to be stuck in traffic.

“Oh! You’re right,” you nod eagerly.

With another smile, you disappear off to who-knows-where to gather your things. Chan sucks in a breath, running a hand through his hair and beginning to go down a mental list of how many more times he should practice sets tonight.

He’s on the third rundown of his routine when a hand clamps down on his shoulder. Letting out a yelp, Chan turns to see Seungkwan looking at him with an emotion he can’t quite pinpoint.

“What?” He makes a face, irritated.

Seungkwan just sighs. It’s heavy and exhaustion-filled, as if he’s long been resigned to his fate.

“Just…take care of them, okay?”

Chan blinks. What?

Before he can question his friend’s antics, Seungkwan’s already walking away, shaking his head in surrender. From across the room Dokyeom is breaking into a fit of laughter at his slow, dramatic walk, which only leaves Chan in even more confusion than before.

“Dino-yah!”

Oh. Oh.

You’re in front of him again, jacket thrown on with minimal effort and hair a little mussed. He barely stops himself from reaching out to fix it for you.

“I’ll see you around, alright? Keep up the good work!” you beam, shooting him a thumbs up.

Chan grins. As if it were a challenge, he holds out his pinkie finger for you to hook onto should you wish.

“I’ll get better only if you keep coming back to the studio, yeah? Pinkie promise me.”

To his absolute, wholehearted glee, you waste no time in linking your finger around his. Your skin slots so perfectly against his own it gives him shivers.

“Pinkie promise?” There's a welcoming threat lacing your tone, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

Lee Chan likes to face problems, and challenges, head on. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do when it comes to his dreams—and his dreams include you.

“Yeah. Pinkie promise.”

back to your library.

[eat-limes-bitches]

Attitude Adjustment

PAIRING: Female! Chiropractor! Reader x Avenger!Bucky Barnes

SUMMARY: Pain affects everyone. Even 106-year-old assassins

WARNINGS: Smidge of Angst, mostly Fluff. Grumpy! Bucky. Some of Bucky's negative self-image but very little. Talks of chiropractic adjustment so cracking joints but nothing too bad. Sam's a little shit. Probably poorly written but oh well.

Word Count: 1006

A/N: Hey guys! I know the last two posts have been really heart-wrenching so here is something a little light-hearted to counteract what I'm gonna be posting next. I am going to be starting chiropractic school in the fall and I know that it has really helped me with some chronic pain stuff that I have going on even with my crazy high pain tolerance so thought Bucky could use some adjustments too!

Enjoy! <3

Dividers by Rookthorne

Y/n watched Bucky from across the gym, analyzing his movements as he tried to continue his set. There was a slight dip in his step as he walked over to the weight plates and a subtle clench of his jaw as he lifted the plate onto the bar. Maybe he��s just sore, she mused as she returned to her stretches. The room around her was slowly disappearing when there was a loud bang and a shout. She jumped, eyes flying open as she shot her gaze across the room where Bucky held his ribs under his left arm while Sam laughed. 

 “What’s wrong, tin man? Age finally catching up to you?” Bucky shot a nasty glare at the man, 

“You won’t be laughing when I drown you in the creek,” Bucky growled as he took a threatening step toward Sam.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Sam placated as he took a step backward. “I was just messin’ with ya man!” Bucky just glared at him again and knocked his metallic shoulder against Sam’s as he stormed off towards the exit. Sam made eye contact with Y/n, shrugging his shoulders and motioning towards the door as if he were saying, ‘Get a load of that guy’. Y/n shook her head and made a mental note to check on him later.

Sometime later after Y/n had finished her workout, she ventured to Bucky’s room, pausing just outside the door. Steadying herself with a breath, she gently rapped on the door. There was a deep groan from the other side of the door, and before Y/n was able to make some space between her and the door, it flew open, revealing a rather disgruntled Bucky, eyes narrowing as he took in her form. 

“What.” He grunts out glare unwavering from her smaller form in the doorway. Y/n steadied herself with a reminder that he was in pain and to not let it get to her. She instead matched his gaze.

“You’re in pain.” She stated cooly observing his reaction as he shifted weight off of his left leg, rolling his eyes.

“Right, ‘cause you can tell from across a room.” He scoffed. Y/n let out an indignant huff as she looked him up and down.

“You’re favoring the left side of your body, and anyone can see that. Your hips are crooked from compensating the extra weight on the left side of your body. You have a slight limp which is throwing your body further out of alignment, and since Steve pinned you during training on Tuesday, you’ve been protecting your left ribcage which was then further aggravated from your bench pressing today.”

Bucky stared at her, eyes wide. “H-how do you know all that?” Y/n’s gaze softened as she gave him a gentle smile. 

“Buck, I’m a chiropractor, I’m trained to see these things. I can help you feel better if you’d like.” She noticed the hesitance in his eyes as he thought about her offer. 

“You know you are allowed help right?” She whispered, placing a hand on his arm. 

Bucky searched her eyes for a moment, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for her to pull away and just laugh, tell him it was all a joke, and walk away but it never came, she just stood there, hand spreading warmth through his arm, smile sending butterflies straight to his stomach. Letting out a breath, he nodded, letting Y/n take his hand and lead him to her office. 

The room was bright, the afternoon sun coming in through the window painted everything in a golden glow. Y/n motioned to the table in the middle of the room.

“Here, lay face down for me.” She said gently, patting the table. Bucky did as he was told,  and melted into the comfortable cushion as Y/n danced her fingers up and down his spine. She paused at the very base of his neck moved her fingers towards his shoulder and gently pressed down. Bucky yelped slightly and jerked away from her touch. 

“I’m sorry Buck, I won’t do it again but that just confirmed my suspicion,” Y/n murmured as she walked around the table, placing the heel of her palms on his upper back.

“Yeah, and what's that?” Bucky grumbled, starting to regret his decision. 

Y/n gave a sharp thrust, and a satisfying pop rang out through the room, startling Bucky. “Your first rib was out of place.” Bucky pushed himself up to look at Y/n wide-eyed. 

“My first rib is out of place!” She just smiled.

“Was. I put it back. That's what that sound was.” 

This went on for a few more minutes. Y/n would palpate different parts of his body, there would be a pop, and Bucky make some sort of surprised noise. Eventually, Y/n made the last adjustment and helped Bucky sit up before taking a seat next to him. 

“How do you feel?” 

Bucky rolled his shoulders before stretching both of his arms above his head. His eyes widened as he snapped his head to meet Y/n’s gaze. Shock was written all over his features as he stood up and wasn’t greeted with the sharp sting that he had grown accustomed to in his lower back. 

“Wow, that-that’s amazing!” He sent a heart-stopping grin in Y/n’s direction. 

“Thank you, Y/n I feel much better.” He said sincerely, taking Y/n’s hand in his as thanked her. Y/n blushed.

“Of course Bucky. Anytime.”

The pair wandered into the main living room where everyone was gathered. Bucky gave Y/n’s hand one last squeeze before strolling over to Steve and putting him in a headlock, laughing and carrying on. Y/n smiled as she watched them when Sam wandered over.

“What did you do to him?” He asked. Y/n just smiled, not taking her eyes off of Bucky, who was now arm-wrestling Tony who was using his suit.

“Nothing really just gave him an attitude adjustment.”

[novantinuum]

Fandom: Steven Universe Rating: Gen Words: 2.8K~ Summary: Not too long after making peace with Homeworld and sparking the start of Era 3, Steven wakes up one morning to discover some... notable changes about himself.

AKA: The one where Steven finally hits his growth-spurt. All at once. Because of course the half-Gem kid could never experience such a human thing like puberty in a "normal" way.

[Part 1 of 2]

Just a few seconds later, knuckles rap against the door in answer to his perturbed cry. 

“Yo Steve-o, that you in there?” Amethyst calls. 

“Y-yeah?” he stammers. His brows threading inwards, he delicately runs his fingers over the ridge upon his throat, very much thrown off by the distinctly lower tenor of the sound coming from his own mouth. He swallows hard, pushing himself to speak again. Come on Steven, he berates himself, think of something lighthearted. This doesn’t have to be a bad thing. No need to completely freak out over this yet. “Who else would I be? It’s not like the whole town uses this bathroom…”

“I mean, I do sometimes. For fun.”

“Okay, fair point, but—”

“Dude, what’s wrong with your voice? Are you like, sick or somethin’?“

“No, it’s just—” 

He squeezes his eyes shut, blocking out all the nebulous, spinning distractions of his mind and the world beyond. Deep breath. It’s okay. Tons of things about his form may be entirely different right now, but like… he seems fine. Right?? Nothing about his body feels tangibly wrong like it did when he willfully stretched himself out on his 14th birthday, or when he changed all his fingers into cats, or when he lost all control of his aging and morphed into an anciently old man and almost died, it’s just… 

New.

New and wholly unfamiliar.

So what now? How can he bravely move forward with all this? What does he need to know? 

“Have, uh… have you ever shapeshifted by accident in your sleep?”

“Not that I‘m aware of,” she says, and he can practically hear the shrug in her tone. “Shapeshifting is a conscious thing you do. It’s a choice, y’know? It doesn’t just happen.”

A good long moment passes as he drinks this information in. He runs his hand through the short curls at the back of his neck as he stands there in the pair of too-small banana yellow pajamas he fit in just fine last night, musing.

“Huh… I guess that makes things pretty simple, then.”

“What d’ya’—”

“Amethyst, I think I’m finally older,” he says, still absolutely mystified by this prospect as he gawks at himself in the mirror. 

She gives a fond laugh. “Ch’a, right? You get older everyday, bud. Wild.”

“No, I mean I’m actually, physically older! Look!”

Steven whirls around and swings the bathroom door wide open to show her. Amethyst’s jaw drops.

“Whoa—! Dude!”

Chuckling nervously, he steps a few feet out, wriggling his bare toes against the wood floor. “I know, right?”

“What the heck, you weren’t kidding!” Before he can even move to say anything else, she spins on her heels and cups her mouth with her hands, hollering towards the temple door. “HEY, PEARL! GARNET! You gotta get out here and see this!”

His brows shoot towards his hairline, his heart hammering in his chest all the while at the thought of all the dumb show-and-tell he’s gonna have to deal with now. “Aww, come on, did you really have to—”

“Amethyst!” Pearl cries, scrambling through the still opening gap in the doorway with Garnet striding mere steps behind. She summons her spear from her gem and swings it to fighting stance with an artful flourish. “What happened? Where’s the threat? What do you need us for??”

Steven darts towards them, hands held up in a placating plea.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! There’s no danger! We’re fine. I just—”

“Oh, my stars—!” she gasps, allowing her spear to dissipate in a glittery flicker of light. “You’ve grown!”

“Nice look, Steven,” Garnet nods, a supportive smile gracing her lips.

“And you’re sure this is real this time? You’re not—?”

“No, no, I’m not stretching myself out, I promise. I just woke up like this.”

“B-but—” Pearl taps her fingers against her chin, appearing thoroughly puzzled— “I thought humans were supposed to age gradually, not all at once.”

Steven’s shoulders slump. “Well… that’s what I assumed too, but—”

“Come, sit with me,” Garnet says, walking around the warp pad to enter the living room. She sets herself down on the couch, patting the cushion in open invitation.

With a heavy, far too weary for his age sigh, Steven shoves his hands in the pockets of his too-small banana pajamas and plods his way over. The rest of the Gems follow suit. He settles himself right next to Garnet, with Pearl perched opposite to her and Amethyst happily lounging on the floor, leaning on the coffee table with her elbows. 

“Steven’s aging hasn’t aligned with the norms of humanity for a very long time,” she observes, a glint of morning sun that’s beaming through the window catching on the edge on the edge of her star shaped visor. Then, turning to him: “I’m curious why you think this is.”

He hums, considering all the chaotic happenings of the past few years. Despite the rare query she poses, he gets the sense that… in her vast wisdom… she already knows the answer. Or at least, a small sum of it. It should be noted that her future vision— as far-reaching as it otherwise is with the vast possibilities of existence— can’t ever touch any knowledge that she won’t be conscious for or present to receive, let alone retroactively scry into the past.

(And honestly? Thank goodness for that.)

“I’m not sure,” he says, a half-lie.

He can think of one reason he might’ve started aging again. Though, it’s not something he’s ready to talk to the Gems about yet. It’s… far too delicate a topic to risk bringing up so soon after the start of peaceful Era 3. But after spending a whole childhood being constantly compared to and mistaken as various versions of his mom… let’s just say, having his gem torn from his body and getting to see it reform into a version of himself (and not her) was simultaneously the worst and the best thing that could’ve ever happened to him. While undeniably traumatic, this experience served as the ultimate proof that he doesn’t have to waste another second of his existence chewing away at some burgeoning identity crisis, that he can live his life however he wants. As Steven. Not as Rose, or Pink Diamond, just… Steven.

He’s not exactly sure how all this mental weirdness translates into him staying stuck looking like a little kid for like… six or so years, but after he returned home from his latest escapade on Homeworld, he could sense that— despite all the messed up stuff he and Connie went through— his spirit was lighter, somehow.

So maybe, he thinks, he simply had to peel away at all the damaged layers of his identity to ready himself to move on to the next stage of his life. Maybe he had to stare death in the eye and pass through the heart of the storm in spite of all these hardships before he could piece the foundational truths of his story back together and learn to finally live again.

To start shifting his hopeful gaze towards the dawn of their bright, sunny future…

“I mean, I always kinda thought he stopped aging because we never did,” Amethyst says then, laying her cheek on the table. “Like, it happened around the time you moved in with us, yeah?”

He purses his lips, scanning his memory. “Uh… I think so? It might have been a year before. Two, even. But I was definitely hanging out with y’all a lot by then.”

She leans over and playfully slugs him in the arm.

“See, there you go! You always wanted to be just like us when you were a kid, so much that you even wore that same ol’ star shirt every day to match ours, ha! You must’ve wanted to be a Gem so badly that you subconsciously stopped becoming older at all.”

“That’s actually a pretty solid theory, Amethyst,” Pearl chimes in. “Good thinking!”

“We have seen you shift your form in response to your perception of others around you,” Garnet says with a nod. “This has caused you to temporarily age and shapeshift in the past, but for you to age in a stable way now, your perception of self must have stabilized, too. I’m very happy for you, Steven.”

She tousles his mess of curls with her gold ringed hand, a welcome little offering of affection that he eagerly leans into.

And then, out of nowhere, Amethyst starts cackling.

“Dude,” she blurts out between her peels of laughter, nudging his foot with her elbow, “I just realized— Greg’s gonna totally lose his shit when he sees this…”

Pearl’s expression scrunches inwards with prickly displeasure. “Language!” 

“What, it’s true!”

He waves Amethyst’s comment off. “Pshhh, my dad’s seen way weirder,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Like, did I ever tell y’guys how the cat fingers incident ended?”

“No!” the quartz exclaims with intensive fervor, and leans forward in anticipation. “Gimme the juicy deets, m’man!”

Garnet adjusts her visor then, her features falling into a dutiful line. “Speaking of Greg… story time can wait until later. Steven— if you want to see your father this morning, you need to head over there now… or there’s a good chance he’ll fall back asleep until one and you’ll miss your window.”

Amethyst’s lips fall into a pout as she slumps back against the foot of the couch, her arms crossed. “Awww, phooey. Spoil sport.”

He swallows a grimace as he internalizes Garnet’s prediction. Yeah, that sounds about right. That’s become a bad habit for his old man lately, staying up super late and then sleeping in almost half the day on weekends. Ever since he received that ten million dollar residues check it’s nothing that can hinder his financials anymore, thank goodness, but then again…

“Yeah… I should probably go make sure he wakes up,” he mutters, pushing his tired body off his seat. “I’ll need his help finding new clothes, anyways.”

The second he’s up and moving again, Amethyst darts around him and snatches his spot with such swift and viscous drive that one might believe this ploy were her sole quest and purpose in life. She stretches out against the seat back with a big, dramatic yawn, crossing her arms behind her head as she speaks. 

“It’s too bad you can’t just… I dunno… summon whatever clothes you want out of light, like us. That’s like the biggest bummer of humanity, if you ask me.”

“And when do you ever experiment with your outfit enough to have a strong opinion about this?” Pearl prods, crossing her arms. “It took you almost a decade to fix that asymmetrical shoulder strap.”

“Well, P… I like to think of myself as a Gem who would experiment with my outfit. One day. If I’m ever really, really bored. Consider it an Era 3 aspiration.”

Steven rocks back and forth on his heels, absentmindedly fiddling with the fraying bottom hem of his pajama top.

“Okay, uh… well, I’m gonna dress to leave now, so—”

“Yeah, see ‘ya.”

“Send a text if you need anything!” Pearl says with a casual wave.

“And don’t forget…” Garnet begins, the ellipses in her tone practically visible with the naked eye.

He pauses in his dutiful march to the stairs— (a somewhat unsteady march… as it turns out, shooting up about a foot and a half in height overnight tends to impact one’s sense of balance for the worst, go figure)— turning back to intercept whatever life advice or future vision she’s prepared for him this time. 

She grins, flashing him a quick heart with her hands instead. “We love you!”

~~

Steven trudges across the hot sands to his dad’s car wash sans his favorite flip flops, trying his very darnedest to wipe away the developing grimace on his face all the while. 

A small segment of him felt overjoyed when he first saw his reflection this morning, eager to look his age and finally grow up alongside his human friends. But after struggling to find anything that fits him even halfway right in his wardrobe, his good mood has rapidly spoiled. There’s a decent few reasons for this.

Reason number one: his old sandals are at least two sizes too small. His heels stick out over the end now, and the plastic thong digs into his toes something terrible. He literally can’t wear them without giving himself blisters. Ergo, his bare feet right now. 

Reason number two: none of his jeans sit right around the waist anymore, plus they make him look like he’s waiting for a flood. (Though thankfully, he found a stretchy blue skirt buried in one of his drawers that will do the trick for now.) 

And perhaps worst of all… reason number three: with his newly increased height, every single one of his treasured star shirts have been turned into ill-fitting crop tops, putting his gem on full display. He’s not against the concept of a crop top, but it sure ain’t a look he’s passionate about for everyday wear. It just feels… too exposing. Like, what about winter?? He can’t bear his whole midriff in winter, he’d freeze, and like… get hypothermia, or something. And not only that, but the longer he’s awake this morning the more an inescapable, thrumming ache starts to settle within the deepest core of his body, like even his bones themselves— the stubborn things— dare to object to this abrupt growth spurt.

Just… ugh. What an annoying hassle all these changes bring.  

“Stupid shirt,” he grouses, tugging at the too-tight collar, “stupid sandals, stupid Gem puberty! Why, oh why can’t I ever go through human stuff normally?”

His bare foot catches upon a sizable stone hidden amongst the beach. On any other day he would’ve successfully broken his fall, stumbling forwards a few awkward steps before regaining his balance and continuing on his way. But with his body now so different, and his center of gravity entirely off from what he’s used to, he head plants straight into the ground.

Wow, he thinks, spitting sand out of his mouth and pushing himself back to his feet. How elegant. Truly the shining paragon of coordination and grace.

Thank goodness no one was watching. Next time he’ll just have to remember to float.

He arrives at his dad’s van with no further incident. The rear doors are— following Garnet’s prediction- cracked open. Dad’s awake, at least for now.

“Daaaaaaaad,” he hollers, cupping his hands around his mouth to project. “A really, really weird thing happened, and I kinda need your help!”

A few spare seconds pass, seconds filled with the rustles of shifting blankets, the sound of a book being shut closed, and his dad’s low murmurs. The doors swing wide, though not as wide as Dad’s eyes when they wander around their bright, sunny surroundings and eventually land square on him and his new look.

“Wh— Steven, holy smokes! Look at you!”

With an awkward chuckle, he scratches away at an itch at the nape of his neck. “Heh heh, I know, right?”

“You’re almost as tall as your old man! When did this happen?��How did this happen?”

“Some point last night, I guess,” he shrugs. “I just woke up like this. But Dad—” he clings onto his arm with mounting desperation— “I need your help to find some new shirts. Don’t you have like… whole boxes of your old tour merch stashed away somewhere? I don’t wanna have to get rid of my star, I just— I just need a bigger size, or something.”

“Hmmm…” Dad muses, scratching at the scruff of his beard. “Well, maybe, but…”

“But what?”

“But if any of it’s still around, then it’s probably in Amethyst’s room. All of the stuff from the storage unit ended up with her, remember?”

“Oh…” he says, brows furrowed, not quite able to parse this fact within his memory yet. And then… 

Ugh. That’s right.

Two New Years’ ago. The huge mess of crates and mattresses and long forgotten belongings. All that ridiculous Little Butler nonsense. Amethyst’s fight with Dad.

“Oh,” he mumbles, crossing his arms. “Right. Well, then let’s go find it!”

“R- right now?”

“Yeah, why not? I need new clothes, and you could see if there’s any old junk in there you might want to keep!”

With that, he grabs his dad’s hand and yanks him along, spirit filled with renewed purpose and vigor.

“And you’re sure you need my help for this?” Dad asks, lagging a step or two behind him as they march back across the beach together. “The Gems, they… well, they don’t usually want me going into the temple—”

“Oh, Amethyst will be fine,” he says with a wave of his palm. “She never cares when I go in there to check out her trash piles. ‘Sides, I need your help to find the right box! I have no idea what your old band stuff was stashed in.”

His dad flashes a tight smile, the sort he always serves up when he’s nervous, but also too timid to tell him that he’s nervous.

“Well… if you think she’ll allow it…” he relents, and picks up his pace to match his.

~~

[End Part 1... more to be shared later.]

[fuctacles]

Tying the knots

For @subeddieweek Day 6 | M | 2162 | established relationship, bondage, non sexual intimacy, subspace, switching, fluff, they are in love | divider by @saradika-graphics | Ao3 Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Ao3

Steve tries to look at the screen Eddie has shoved in his face. Literally. He sighs, pushes his hand away, and takes the phone to scroll through the pictures himself. It's a week's worth of photos Eddie's been saving, scavenging the web to find those he thought might convince Steve to try the new thing.

Steve looks through the photos of models, their chests, arms and thighs wrapped in rope. He imagines similar stuff in their bedroom, and mulls over how to word his opinion. Wonders, with a pang of fear, if Eddie would want to try this with someone else instead, if Steve says 'no'.

He sighs.

"You know I don't feel comfortable with this," he says finally, knowing honesty is the best way to go at the end of the day. "I trust you completely, but I wouldn't even let Robin tie me up. Hell, I almost got a panic attack just getting an x-ray the other day."

Eddie lays his hand on top of his, where he holds the now locked phone.

"Darling, I'd never do that to you," he assures. "I meant myself."

Steve frowns, confused.

"What?"

Eddie squeezes his hand.

"I want you to tie me up."

Steve's mind blanks. This was flipping the script on their bedroom activities completely. He's at a loss of words yet again. He opens his mouth and frowns.

"But you don't like bottoming." They tried it, of course, but figured out fast the dynamic that worked for them best.

At his astute observation, Eddie's soft expression sharpens into a dark smirk.

"Who said anything about bottoming? Silly boy, you think I'll let you? With that tiny dick of yours?"

Steve's breath hitches.

"No, I want you to tie me up and ride me like a toy." His tone loses momentum, and turns softer and hesitant. Thinking back, Steve's been seeing this side of him more often lately. Lining in time with his confession that he 'wanted to try something new.'

Steve looks at his boyfriend. Truly looks at him, at the reddened cheeks, the dark pupils, the nervous picking on his nail polish.

"It's not about the bondage, is it?" he asks. "You want to try subbing."

Eddie nods in affirmation.

"Holy shit," Steve breathes out, the realization squeezing his throat.

"I know it's a big change," Eddie says. "But just think about it. We don't have to ever come back to this if you decide you're not interested, but the offer will be open if you ever want to try."

They maintain eye contact for a long while. The time stretches but all they see is trust and love, so Steve brings their joined hands to his lips to presses a kiss against Eddie's knuckles. 

"I'll think about it," he promises.

"That's all I ask."

Two weeks pass without mention of that conversation, which Eddie assumes is a 'no' from Steve. He's okay with that. The whole allure was to do it with him, and if he's not comfortable with it, then neither is Eddie.

The setting is the same, as every weekend - an afternoon to unwind with take-out and mindless TV watching after cleaning up their tiny apartment. This time, it's Steve who shoves his phone towards him.

"Which color do you like?"

"Huh?" It takes his eyes a moment to focus on the screen, and he takes a surprised breath when he recognizes what he's looking at. 

Colorful bundles of shibari ropes.

"Classic black?" Steve muses, like it's not a big deal to drop his answer in such a way, out of the blue. "They have this dark red that would look great on your skin, I think. Or we could go with the classic twine color," he wonders out loud, scrolling with his thumb with the phone angled so both of them could see. Not that Eddie cares much for what's on the screen. He has more important things right in front of his eyes.

"I love you so much," he whispers, taking Steve by surprise. He looks up into his boyfriend's huge eyes.

"I love you too," he says back, capturing his lips in a quick kiss. "But please focus, they have a sale that ends at midnight."

They go with the twine after all. Eddie said it would make fantasy kidnapping roleplay more authentic. Steve lovingly smacked him about it.

He can tell Steve is nervous. Eddie's sitting there, cool as a cucumber in his favorite house loungewear (linen pants and an old Metallica shirt), while Steve keeps getting up and fidgeting. He gets up to get scissors, then to get water, and then decides some snacks are in order. Eddie chews on a cashew, observing him. 

"You don't have to do this," he reiterates for the umpteenth time. "I can tie my legs myself or something. A simple harness should be doable too..."

"No!" Steve protests immediately. "You trusted me and I'm doing this, I'm just...." He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I'm just worried something will go wrong."

Eddie sighs. 

"Baby," he says gently, crawling forward on the bed. "That's what scissors and safewords are for. We'll be fine." He gently touches his hand where he's digging his fingers into the duvet. "And if we don't like it, I'll just use the rope for the next LARP. It's not a big deal," he reminds him, squeezing his hand. "Just something new we're trying out. No pressure, no expectations. It either works out or it doesn't. Like a new recipe. Alright?"

Steve moves his hand from underneath his to lace their fingers together.

"Alright. Just let me watch the tutorial one more time."

Eddie rolls his eyes lovingly.

"Of course, darling."

He leans on his shoulder and together they watch a professional rigger demonstrate the knots on a consenting mannequin. Steve is holding the rope in his hands, mirroring the movements shown in the video. Halfway through though, he sighs and pauses it. 

"You're distracting me," he says, turning to the left, where Eddie's head is.

"I'm literally just sitting here!" Eddie protests, moving away from his shoulder.

"Yes, and it's very distracting!" He sighs again. "Let's just do this."

"Okay," Eddie agrees quickly, unable to contain his excitement. He scrambles to the center of the mattress. "This alright?" he asks. Steve's eyes roam down his form.

"I guess so."

With this said, he walks on his knees up to his boyfriend and throws the rope over his neck. He uses it to pull him forward, making Eddie giggle in surprise. He presses a kiss to his smiling lips. 

"What's your safeword?"

"Demogorgon" Eddie answers in a heartbeat. 

They are just practicing today but that doesn't mean Steve would take it any less seriously than an actual scene. Even with a third guy present, speaking from a YouTube tutorial. Steve checks with it every couple of knots to make sure he's doing them right. Other than that, and the soft ambient music he had put on, the room is quiet. Just their breathing, the slide of the rope, and a quiet exchange of 'Alright? - Yes.' now and then. 

He gets lost in the methodical movements, in making the ties just right, and it takes him a moment to realize it's become too quiet.

"Eddie?" He looks up from his own hands to his boyfriend and finds his blown-out eyes staring back at him. "Are you okay?"

"Golden," he slurs back, giving him a wobbly smile.

Steve sits up with a worried frown.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asks.

"Don't you dare," Eddie tries to growl, but it comes out slurred and whiny. He sighs, letting whatever he's feeling right now take over. "Feels good. Like a hug. I trust you, Stevie," he says, closing his eyes to drift away into bliss.

Steve feels his chest swell close to bursting. He wonders if Eddie feels the same when he hands himself over to him.

He leans down to press a kiss to his sternum, near the center of the rope harness.

"I love you."

Eddie makes a sound deep in his throat that is probably meant to mean 'I love you too'.

Steve moves to kiss his temple next.

"I'm almost done, just finishing up," he informs Eddie before going back to the rope. This time he focuses less on the task itself, and more on the body under his hands. On Eddie's steady breath, even and shallow like he's falling asleep. On the calm beat of his heart. He lets his fingers linger when checking the give of the rope, when threading and looping it, and turns it into a caress of his lover's body.

Once he's done, he trails his hands along the rope, from his shoulders, through his hips, to his thighs.

"All wrapped up, baby," he announces, and Eddie's eyelashes flutter open. 

He's looking at Steve, but like he's seeing him through a window from another dimension. With a thrill, Steve realizes he's put his boyfriend in subspace. Feeling the heavy weight of responsibility, he reaches out to cup his cheek and caresses it softly with his thumb.

"What do you need?" he asks. 

Eddie licks his lips before he can speak. 

"You. Kiss me?" he asks.

"Of course, baby. Anything." Steve leans down to pepper kisses all over not only his lips, but his whole face, his exposed collarbone, every inch of clothed and unclothed skin peeking from between the rope, like his body is an altar to pray on. Eddie sighs at the attention, melting into it. When there is no skin left unkissed, Steve wraps himself around him and they cuddle, until Eddie comes back enough to request they watch something.

He refuses to be untied until he's seen two episodes of Hell's Kitchen and got hand-fed broken-off pieces of a granola bar. And even then he agrees to it reluctantly, only when he starts yawning and Steve points out to him there's no way he's going to sleep tied up.

It goes faster than the tying process, but Steve doesn't rush it. He rubs gently every patch of reddened skin he uncovers and kisses it gently. Eddie goes quiet again under his ministrations, but nowhere as far as before. Soon, the rope is put aside in loose coils, and they're staring at each other, Steve rubbing absentmindedly at his thigh.

"Did you like it?" Eddie asks, trying to sound casual. Steve knows he's eager for an answer, though. 

"I know you love me," he starts, making Eddie tilt his head curiously. "But this made me feel it. Like, there was no doubt in my mind, for even a second, that you're ridiculously in love with me."

"Fuck," Eddie groans, startling Steve. But before he can ask what's wrong, Eddie's pulling him in and leaning back, so he has to hover over him. "I just wanted to be pampered a bit. Switch up our crazy hot sex to be even crazier and hotter. And you pull this shit on me. Of course you do," he rolls his eyes fondly.

Steve scrunches his eyebrows. 

"I'm... sorry?" he offers.

"Don't. No. Shut up." Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and breathes through his nose like he's overwhelmed. When he opens them back, they are shiny and wet. 

"Eddie..."

"Marry me," Eddie interrupts him in a single breath.

To say he's taken aback would be an understatement.

"What?" he says like it's punched out of him.

Eddie's face hardens with determination.

"You're it for me, Steve. I trust you to take care of me and I'll take care of you right back. What do you say?"

Steve chuckles wetly, begging his tears not to start spilling onto his future husband.

"What? No ring?" he jokes.

"Hold up." Eddie turns between his arms and scoots on the bed to reach the bedside where a trinket dish full of his rings has a permanent residence. He fishes one out and straightens up, kneeling on the bed. 

Steve sits up, watching him with wide eyes.

"Steve. Will you marry me?"

The ring is smaller than his signature ones, a silver band with an engraved rose, its thorny stem weaving along the length. Steve doesn't recognize it, and he's become quite intimate with Eddie's collection.

"Did you hide an engagement ring in your trinket dish?" he asks incredulously. 

A blush rises to Eddie's cheeks.

"I've been thinking about it for a while, okay?" he explains defensively. "I thought if I didn't go for a pretentious diamond and forego the box and fancy dinner it would make it less scary, will you please fucking answer?" he blurts out. 

Steve laughs, and this time lets the tears fall freely.

"Of course I will marry you, you fucking idiot."

He grabs Eddie's face and pulls him into a kiss. The ring falls somewhere into the sheets but they'll retrieve it later, once satisfied with the number of kisses exchanged between the freshly committed fiancés. 

[dcviousintcntions]

Steve had tried to leave the frustrations of the day at the door, but it had never been something he possessed the ability to manage all that well. If he was by himself? It would have e been a little different. But he wasn't. There was someone else in the home that he had to be mindful of, though that courtesy was out the window as the door slammed. Settled onto the couch, he would have been thrilled to absently watch TV and forger all about the day. But the movement beside caught attention, and his arms shifted out of the way to allow the blonde the room that she obviously wanted and needed. A heavy sigh, half pleased and half frustrated, rushed from his chest. The hand not enclosed on the beer with a near death grip reached up to rub at his face. "Both, shit." The gentle touch of her slender digits was welcomed. "I'm sorry. Tried to leave it at the door. I'm just tired. Physically and with all the shit that comes with people." She had a sure fire way to make him feel better, though, and Steve wasn't about to complain about it at all. Hips shifted so that his pants could fall down his legs, allowing her better access. The lack of move to stop her was the unspoken permission to continue. "I can order us some dinner...."

open to: males

based: linked in source

connection: roommate, friend, old fwb, taboo welcomed.

please do not like my starters

the blonde had been just trying to watch a movie after running errands earlier in the day. since she didn’t have to work that night she intended on just having a quiet night in. maybe order some take out or just be lazy and eat junk food. at least until he came in through the door and it was evident he had a long day. that was what she assumed when she heard him slamming the door closed. her eye brows arched up as she watched him go to the fridge to grab a beer. after that he was joining her on the couch. she merely stared at him for a few seconds before she opted to crawl over to where he was,” bad day?” her tone was barely above a whisper and she reached to begin to undo his belt,” or just frustrated?” it wasn’t the first time that she was being so helpful and it wasn’t going to be the last. she noticed how the tension seemed to leave him as she got his pants undone and her hand delved inside. 

[phoenixmuses]

♡ Continued from here ♡ For @taleswritten

Steve had been heading back toward his house from a small convenience store when he caught sight of Billy, bent out of shape and, for the most part, clearly apathetic toward his own well-being.  He couldn't really blame him — not after what he had been through with the Mind Flayer.  It had been a nightmare for Steve and he wasn't even the one that had been possessed, which only spoke volumes of how the blond must have felt.  Despite their past differences, he knew he had to set it aside; they were on the same team now, whether they wanted to be or not.

When he had managed to drag him back to his house, sat on the edge of the tub and gliding a wet washcloth across Billy's busted nose, he couldn't help but feel a little relieved that he was safe in his company.  Steve's brows were furrowed in concentration, his attention honed in on trying not to make the pain any worse, but the way that the silence sat heavy in the air between them was almost unnatural.  He had seen Hargrove after fights, and had even been in one with him back at the Byers' place, yet this was... different.  It was almost eerie, seeing him so solemn like this, and Steve felt his chest tighten just a little when Billy finally broke the quiet.

"Just because you can doesn't mean you should have to.  Hold still and let me take care of you," came his firm but gentle response, briefly meeting his gaze before he finished cleaning up the blood around his nose.  "You're not having any trouble breathing, right?"  Another short pause.  "Nothing that we should be taking you to the hospital for?"

Steve pulled back a little, searching his features for a moment with a slight frown before he exhaled quietly and stood up.  "I'm going to grab some ice and some Tylenol," he muttered, delicately lifting the blond's hand to hold the rag in place on his nose.  "Stay leaning forward and keep pressure on it — not the bone, just the softer part. Don't move."

He disappeared out of the bathroom for almost ten minutes, and when he came back, he had an ice pack wrapped in a clean washcloth, a small bottle of Tylenol, and a glass of water.  Taking a seat across from Billy once again, he pulled out two of the pills and handed them to him with the glass of water.  As they sat together, there was a part of him that wanted to ask what had happened, to see if maybe it had been Tommy H. or someone else they knew; on the other hand, he wasn't sure if he wanted to risk making it worse for the blond by prying.  "You know... if you need to vent or something, I'm all ears," he offered, his voice low and almost hesitant, but sincere.

[crappymixtape]

tart like cherries, sweet like pie

you’re in the thick of summer and everything’s hot, sticky, sweet. after a long swim session in steve’s pool with the gang, you go to the diner, but when everyone starts to say their goodbyes, steve can’t stop thinking about you and the way you looked when you ate the cherry on top of your strawberry milkshake | (  1.7k, fluff, kinda smut, friends to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )

T A R T L I K E C H E R R I E S, S W E E T L I K E P I E 🎵 gap tooth smile, djo

“Touch my fries again, Munson, and you’re gonna owe me more than a dime bag!”

Robin slapped Eddie’s hand away from the red checkered basket sitting between them on the table.

“Aw, c’mon, Robs. Just one more? Promise,” the curly-haired boy smirked, holding out a pinky, only to be greeted with a skeptically flat look.

“Eventually someone needs to give us a ride back,” Mike snarked, mouth twisted around a frown, “Idiots.”

Max, Will, El, and Lucas all grumbled in agreement. You were all crammed into the half-moon bench seat at the back of the diner, tabletop covered in crumpled up burger wrappers and empty soda cups full of melting ice. After spending the too-hot August afternoon floating in the Harrington’s pool, you’d all begrudgingly crawled out, shoulders red and cheeks pink, to wander downtown in search of air conditioning.

“Hm,” Steve mused, “If only we knew someone with a van…” He grinned across from you, nudging your shin under the table with the toe of his shoe.

“Hey, now–” Eddie started, pointing a finger at the other boy.

“No, no. He has a point,” you cut in with a tut and a shrug, struggling to maintain a straight face.

“Not our fault you drive a mommy missile,” Robin snorted.

Eddie glared at all three of you, then added pointedly to Steve, “I thought you were the god dammed babysitter.”

“I was,” Steve replied agreeably, lacing his hands behind his head and giving him a saccharine sweet smile, “Until you so graciously joined this shit show.” Picking a fry from Robin’s basket, Steve held it between his teeth, “Besides, I gave rides back from the arcade last night, s’your turn.”

Roughing his hands over his face, Eddie groaned against his palms and stood from the table. IN classic Munson theatrics, the boy waved an arm in a big circle before shoving at Mike, “Alright douchebags, let’s go.”

“Wait–” Robin snatched another handful of fries and crammed a few in her mouth, “–I’m on the way, take me too.”

“Seriously?” Eddie gave Steve a desperate look.

“I’ve got a load of donation stuff in the backseat, only room for one with me.”

Steve gave you another grin, but this time it was a little softer, a little curious, and it made your stomach flip over, your brain lapsing for a half second before kickstarting again.

“Yeah–yeah, I can’t go yet. I haven’t even touched my shake,” you clumsily added, cheeks flush as you leaned down and took a long sip of blended strawberry ice cream.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie muttered under his breath, “Fine. Fine. I’ll be the responsible one–and don’t ever say I never did anything for you shitheads!”

“Oh my god–Saint Munson,” Max snarked, mouth tipped up in a half-grin when you and Steve choked on fries and milkshake, “Guardian of children and stupid, nerdy shit.”

Eddie frowned, hands on his hips, “Watch it, Red.”

Then, one by one, the kids all mumbled their goodbyes to you and Steve, giving one-armed hugs as they piled out of the rounded bench seat after Eddie who had already gotten halfway to the door.

“Praised be to Saint Munson!” Steve called after them and Eddie thanked him with an emphatically lifted middle finger without even looking back.

The bell at the front jingled happily as Lucas held the door open for the gang, and then, giving you both a little finger waggle goodbye, the diner fell quiet.

“Saint Munson,” Steve laughed under his breath, “Wish I’d thought of that.”

“You’ll get him next time,” you reassured, kicking at his foot under the table and it pulled his eyes up to meet yours. Warm, brown sugar and honey, framed with thick lashes, crinkled at the edges with a smile.

“Thanks, Bug.”

Your birthday’s in June? Oh, well then I’m gonna call you Bug. Is that okay? You know, like a June bug?

Bug.

Sweet Bug.

His Bug.

Heat crackled in your chest as you returned his smile and leaned down to take another sip of milkshake. Steve’s eyes were still on you, and when you wrapped your lips around your straw, the black of his irises bloomed outward, amber and caramel flashing dark. When he swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing against the moles dotting down the column of his throat, you paused.

Friends since second grade, scraped knees and broken arms, summer’s spent floating in the pool and jumping into the quarry. Melted popsicles and dirt roads, coconut sunscreen and freckles, citrus and cedar and fresh laundry and

Steve. Steve. Steve.

Dipping your fingers into your glass, you picked up the cherry at the bottom and lifted it to your lips. Hesitating at the idea of what you were about to do, you watched as Steve blinked at you from across the table, lashes sweeping across the tops of his cheeks while his hands pressed heavy into the red, vinyl seat.

Putting the cherry to your glossy lips, you slipped your tongue under it, pulled it between your teeth and held it there for just a second, watching as Steve unraveled before your eyes. He bit down hard, jaw ticking, muscles strained and eyes glued to your mouth and the way your teeth pressed against the soft fruit, a dot of whipped cream clinging to the corner of your lips.

Finally, slowly, you sunk your teeth into it, a tiny trickle of juice dripping down your chin as you sucked the cherry in, and Steve looked like he might pass out. His too-cool demeanor blown out and boiling over, mouth parted in awe as he tracked the movement of your tongue running along your bottom lip, gathering up the juice and whipped cream.

“I gotta get this table bussed, hon,” a voice shattered the tension between you like a glass and both of you locking onto the waitress, caught.

“Oh–oh right. Course. S–sorry. We’re done. Right? We’re all done. Here–uh–lemme just grab–” Words were spilling out of Steve’s mouth like an open tap, clumsy and fumbling as he dug a wad of bills from his pocket, “Can keep the change. Great food! Great food. Thanks a bunch.”

“Mmhm,” she mumbled with an eye roll, as both of you clambered out of the booth.

Steve hit the door first, car keys clanking against his fingers as his feet hit the sidewalk, body like a furnace not from the summer heatwave, not the last rays of sun stretching up the side of the building, but from you.

You and the way that cherry looked between your teeth, the sharp angles of your cheeks when you sucked in and they hollowed out, the glitter in your eyes as you held his gaze and dared him to keep watching.

“Steve! Wait up–”

Reaching out your hand, your fingers brushed against his, straining for purchase until you finally grabbed hold and tugged, stopping him just as he reached the BMW. He turned around, mouth working around a smile when he finally looked down at you, expression unsure, struggling against shame and want and adoration.

“I’m sorry if I–if I made you uncomfortable or–or–” your words wouldn’t come out, caught in your throat, the feeling at the pit of your stomach teetering between embarrassed and wanting more. “Stupid,” you muttered under your breath, gaze dropping to your feet, but then Steve chuckled and you glanced back up.

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled down at you, cheeks flushed and pink, no longer King Steve, but someone softer. Someone who wanted to try and put words to feelings.

“Honestly?” he said, brows quirking up, “So hot. Like…I don’t think you realize what you were doing to me in there, Bug.” Lifting a hand to your cheek, he ghosted his fingers down the line of your jaw, holding your chin between his thumb and pointer. “Wrecked me,” he admitted, voice lower, warmer, “Is that what you wanted?”

Heat pooled between your legs at his words, his touch, the way he held you in his hand, firm, but careful. Swallowing your nerves, you took a step into him and held his gaze, “What if I said yes?”

“Gonna kill me,” he whispered, pressing his other hand to your hip and sliding two fingers into the belt loop on your jeans to tug you into him.

You could feel the sun radiating from him, warm through the thin, white fabric of his shirt, and you wondered for split second what it would feel like to put your hands on him. Bare skin, golden, sun kissed, fingers chasing freckles across his belly, bumping up his ribs and over his chest.

“Can’t,” you whispered back, “Cos I then I wouldn’t be able to do this.”

Taking a deep breath you pushed up onto your toes and wrapped an arm behind his head, pulled him down into you and pressed your lips to his, swallowing the gasp he’d sucked in.

It tasted like strawberry milkshake, tart cherry and whipped cream. Like every June, July, and August you spent together. All the restraint and tension melting away like ice cream in the sun only to be replaced by this heat, making room for something more.

He ran his tongue against the seam of your lips and you opened to him, let him into your mouth and licked at the way he searched you. He loosed a pained sound that you greedily swallowed, sucking his bottom lip as you pulled away and when you finally looked back up at him, he was completely wrecked. Hair sticking out at the nape of his neck where you’d tangled your fingers, running your nails against the skin there, leaving a trail of goosebumps in your wake.

“Take me home?” you asked quietly, a secret code only he could decipher.

Want you. Need you. More. More. More.

And Steve didn’t make you ask twice, stealing one more kiss before driving you back to his where you’d get lost between the sheets. Tracing each other like a pattern, a maze of sleepless bliss, bodies fitted together like two sides of a locket as you moved in the dark and pulled soft sounds from your lips – asking each other again and again for another

and another

and another.

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

[ladykailitha]

Soft Part 1 of 2

I was meant to be working on Grief (A Friend Indeed) this weekend because I didn't want to leave you hanging at the end of six (which I have written), but my muse wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote this one. It's a little more than 3k, so I'm splitting it up. Which will give me more time to write part 7.

It's called soft because all the way through writing it, that's what the feel was. It was all fluff. And I really couldn't think of a better title.

*

Eddie walked into the apartment Steve shared with Robin and found Steve crying on the sofa.

"Stevie?" he asked, gently creeping up on the sofa as not to startle him.

"Hey, Eds," Steve greeted mournfully.

"What happened, babe?" Eddie asked, easing on the sofa next to him.

"Anna broke up with me..." he muttered.

Eddie blinked. "But wasn't she the one that brought up marriage, like just last week?"

Steve nodded. "Apparently it was a test or some such shit."

"What did you say?" he asked.

"I told her that marriage is great when you find the right person, but that it wasn't for everyone," Steve explained. "I said it was great feeling to stand up in front of your friends and family and declare your love for each other."

"Sounds great to me," Eddie said. "What was her damage?"

Steve sighed. "Apparently the answer to the question 'should people get married' is never ever in a million years and I'm a misogynist for even thinking about it."

"Ouch."

"Stupid me for thinking otherwise," Steve groused. "Hell I even went and put a down payment on a ring. A very nonrefundable down payment."

Eddie closed his eyes and opened them slowly. "Shit, sweetheart. She should reimburse you for that, leading you on like she did."

Steve shook his head, pulling out a small box. "I bought this instead." He handed it to Eddie.

Eddie opened the box and inside was a beautiful white gold chain with a large clasp.

"That's pretty, Stevie," he murmured. "Birdie will love it."

Steve shook his head again. "It's for you. It's for your guitar pick." He jutted his chin at Eddie's necklace.

"What?"

"Can I show you?" Steve asked gently, holding out his hand.

Eddie nodded and took the necklace off and placed it in his waiting palm.

Steve set it on his thigh as he unscrewed one end of the clasp. He slid the pick off the bubble chain Eddie kept it on and onto the silver chain. He screwed the clasp back on and then brought the two ends back together. They connected without any help from Steve.

"Whoa!" Eddie said, enthralled.

"It's magnetic," he explained. "That way when you do shows you can do the whole rip it off your neck without having to buy new chains all the time."

He handed it back to Eddie, who put it on. He tugged on it normally but it didn't come off. He tugged harder and it came off in his hand. The chain slipped around his palm and reconnected. He wrapped it around his wrist and the pick fell perfectly in his hand so he could strum.

He played a little air guitar and then put back around his neck.

Steve ran his fingers through his hair. "I heard that picks really don't last long, and that that one is really special, so I had these made too."

He pulled the cushion out of the jewelry box to reveal about a dozen picks with a hole drilled into the top so Eddie could string them on the necklace.

Eddie picked one up and saw that it had initials on it. "JL." He picked up another one. "DH." A third. "LS."

"Steve..." he whispered.

"They each have an initial for someone you love," Steve murmured. "Your uncle. Your band. The kids."

"Not you?" Eddie asked, tilting his head around so he could get a better look at Steve face.

Steve blushed a dark red. He tugged on the necklace and it came off in his hand. "My initials are here." He pointed to the two clasps. And sure enough there were engraved into the silver was a simple S and H.

Eddie's heart stuttered in his chest. "Thank you." His lip quivered a bit before he spoke again. "You didn't have to do this, you know."

Steve shook his head. "I had to get something with down payment. This wasn't that much. I promise. I liked getting it for you."

Eddie just nodded.

*

Eddie showed up for band practice, practically vibrating out of his skin.

Jeff leaned back. “Whoa, man. Who’s put caffeine into your veins?”

“Lookie what Stevie got me!” he said and yanked off the chain, it immediately demonstrated the effect for him.

“Holy shit!” Gareth said bounding up to him. “That’s so freaking cool.”

Eddie grinned. “He also got me these.” And he poured the picks into Gareth’s hand.

Gareth picked one up, after another reading off the initials. “JH, ES, DH... GH?”

He looked up at Eddie in awe. He held up the GH. “Is that me?”

Eddie nodded, pursing his lips. “There’s a JL and a BM in there too.”

“And the rest all the kids right?” Brian asked coming up behind Gareth.

“And Wayne and Robin,” Eddie confirmed.

Jeff wandered over, too. “No pick for Stevie?” he asked, pushing them around in Gareth’s hand.

Eddie quietly showed them the initials on the necklace itself.

“Holy fuck!” Brian said, wide-eyed. “That’s a declaration of love if I ever saw one, man.”

Jeff nodded. “Yeah, Ed. That’s some straight up romantic shit.”

“Come on, guys,” Eddie moaned. “It’s not like that. He put a down payment on a ring for a relationship that went bust and needed to spend it anyway.”

All three of his bandmates just stared at him in disbelief.

He squirmed a little under their gaze. “I bet Birdie got something even better than this.” He held up the necklace. “It’s only silver, it couldn’t have cost that much anyway.”

“Dude,” Brian said. “Your rings are silver. That is something else.”

Eddie frowned and compared the two pieces of jewelry side by side.

“Oh.”

He chewed on his lip. “I think I know what metal this is.”

Gareth rubbed his chin. “It looks like my mom’s wedding ring. And that’s...”

“White gold,” Eddie and Gareth said together.

Jeff’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “You mean to tell me that Steve got you a necklace made of white gold and you still don’t think it’s a declaration of his undying love you?”

“Guys...” he whined. “It’s only the necklace. It can’t have cost that much, okay?”

Jeff ran his tongue over his lips, a sly look on his face.

“What?” Eddie barked.

“I’ll tell you what...” Jeff said shrewdly. “If he bought something for Buckley, too, we’ll learn all fucking ten minutes of Master of Puppets.”

Eddie grinned. But Brian and Gareth didn’t even have the decency to look worried.

“And if he hasn’t...” Jeff continued. “You’ll play Free Bird at the next gig at the Hideout.”

Eddie groaned. Both songs were long, but he thought Free Bird was boring. Not like Master of Puppets, that song had depths.

But then again... he was sure that Robin had something even nicer from Steve. Like diamond stud earrings or some shit.

“You’re on.”

Jeff smiled as they shook on it and it made Eddie doubt a bit.

Nah.

He had this on lock.

*

Eddie came bounding up to the counter at Steve and Robin’s job at the bookstore. Just another in their long line of jobs they had together.

“Where is your soulmate?” he asked the very disgruntled Robin.

She rolled her eyes. “He’s at home. With another migraine.”

Eddie winced. “That’s the third one this week.”

Robin nodded. “He’s got an appointment with a neurologist next week, but I’m stuck here, while he’s at home being miserable.”

Eddie pouted. “Poor Birdie. I can check up on him on my way home?”

“Thanks,” she said, a little bit of tension leaving her body.

“Speaking of your soulmate,” he said. “Did he show you what he got me?”

Robin shook her head. “I didn’t even realize he had gotten you anything.”

Eddie frowned, but took off his necklace and handed it to her.

She smiled at the initials. “That dingus. That’s really sweet of him.”

He told her the whole story. “So what did he get you?” he asked when he finished.

Robin furrowed her brow. “Nothing.”

Eddie reared back his head. “That’s not possible. He loves you the most in all the world. He would have gotten you something.”

She gently took his hand, the necklace tangling around their fingers. “Eddie, he loves you, too. Just as much, just differently.”

He reached out with his free hand and fingered the braided chain. “Jeff... the whole band really thought it was a declaration of true love.”

“They sound pretty smart to me.”

Eddie pursed his lips. He nodded. “I’ve got to go. Don’t worry, I’ll still check up on him.”

He untangled their hands and put the necklace back on.

Robin watched him go with a fond smile on her face. They were both stupid. But they were getting there.

*

Eddie had made sure Steve had taken his medicine and was lying down in his room with an ice pack on his head.

He was snooping. He was usually against that. Like with every fiber of his being, but this was extenuating circumstances. He couldn’t ask Steve as it was for a surprise for him. Couldn’t ask Robin, he loved her but she would blurt out the surprise. Just randomly. Without prompting.

So he was snooping around looking for a specific piece of paper he knew Robin kept in one of three places. Her nightstand. Wasn’t there. Next to the phone. Again, not there. So he was rifling through their junk drawer in a last ditch effort to find what he was looking for.

EUREKA! He found it.

He copied the information and then put the paper back. He carefully put the paper in his wallet.

He stayed nearby until Robin came home, but Steve slept straight through the changing of the guard.

***

Part 2

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[lixy-u]

Daily dose of Starker #5

What about an alternative universe where SIM!Tony and Tony share the same body like two souls trapped in a jar together ? SIM!Tony knew about Tony but Tony doesn’t know his other persona, they fell for the same certain spider but one wanted to kill him while the other wanted to beg for his love.

SIM!Tony x Muse!Peter x Tony Stark

This is post NWH where Tony is alive but half of his soul is damaged which leads to SIM!Tony (that defeated by Spider Man) got pulled from another universe to fill the gap in Tony’s soul.

Another note is OG avengers not dead in this fic.

____

Sometimes there was a hole in Tony’ memories but he pretended it was fine until he exhausted himself trying to catch up with Rhodey’ unknown discussion, Pepper’s concerns about the tabloids saying he's coming back to his old self, and Happy’s distant face.

It suffocated him so much.

Sometimes Tony found himself dozing mid day, it felt weird seeing his body move on his own, it was like watching a movie in a third person view where he was trapped between consciousness and unconsciousness.

Other times Tony just woke up in an alley where he definitely didn't know before, his body ached, lips busted, his mind all messed up and when his body went down from the adrenaline, he felt it instantly, the fatigue and the dizziness washed over him waves by waves. He almost collapsed on the ground seizing.

It was strange, to the point Tony felt like he's becoming insane.

From FRIDAY called him Superior to the new version of his arc reactor to a new substance called Extremis that heavily violated the ethical principles.

But one thing that stood out the most is…the boy.

The first time Tony saw him was not - person to person, but via a painting that hung on his bedroom (he didn't remember when he placed it there). He admitted it was a nice painting, the boy(again he didn't even know whether that person is a boy or not but somehow his mind said they're a boy) no older than 20, he stood there naked with this back facing the audience, white cloth draped over his lower body half hiding his smooth legs and covered up the hidden forbidden fruit, but what caught Tony's eyes the most was the huge spider tattoo on his back.

It was mesmerizing, something deep in his guts arose when he saw them.

From that moment on, everywhere he went, he saw the boy and everytime the spider tattoo made his brain go haywire.

In his labs, in his office, on his bed.

The draft for a spider emblemed suit ? A hand drawn sketch of the boy and more complicated equations for some substance. (That's weird, because he swears he never seen this before and further what's a sticky substance is going to benefit him)

One time, he even saw the boy laid beside him when he woke up in the middle of the night due to unrecognizable nightmares. The boy still got his back facing him, the moonlight peeks over his window draped over the figure, he can see the pretty and delicate shoulder blades, the spine, the bitable nape and-and the curls, my god the curls. He wanted to touch them but he's afraid the boy will disappear.

He didn't know the boy but somehow he can taste him. Yes taste, he felt it in his tongue, the softest on his lips, the sweetness of skin, the copper-like fluid on his palate.

Tony felt hunger. Like he was poisoned.

It finally gets to the point Tony couldn't ignore it no more, these strange things have been going on.

There were numerous reports about a new villain in town, the threat was evaluated to be between normal to Avenger level threat which is pretty concerning considering last time Avenger level threat was Thanos - Tony hates him.

The new villain was suspected to be hell of a genius (Tony didn't want to admit the guy is smart but he earned himself some credits) The villain possessed some kind of super soldier serum but not the same as Bucky or Steve, he also possessed Iron Man copy cat of armor with blue and white - that mother fucker, Tony’s gonna sue the fuck out of him.

Strange enough, the more he got reports from the new villain the more gaping holes in his memories became larger over time. Some days he… even forgot the mission. And the villain got away just in time before the Avengers could do anything like the guy knew what's they're gonna do.

Tony was not sure whether or not he's dreaming, he saw Cap throw his shield to the villain and he missed. God, Caps getting old, Clint is never going to shut up about his ‘ill never miss’ aim assist. In the corner of his eyes he saw Black Widow shouting something but it was completely inaudible, he saw James Buchanan Barnes - yeah the guy he had a hard time to get to an okay terms with, looked at him with sadness in his eyes and Bruce - his science bros, the one who he vented about the stupid villain technology, desperate synthesize something in the labs despite currently in fight with the villain which was not his usual move at all.

Bang !

That's fucking hurts.

Shit. He said that out loud ?

What the actual fuck ?! He saw Clint was aiming at the villain-?! Wait, this is not his suit. This cool and slippery feeling is not his suit at all, this is not how his nanites should be moving- THIS IS NOT NANITES. NOT HIS.

The suit engulfing his body suddenly moved on its own. It flew through NYC, the buildings, the people and its scenery flashed through his mind but he's too caught up with his mind.

WHERE IS SPIDEY ?

He flew across the question written on the wall of a random ass sandwich place.

Spidey ? As in Spider-Man ?

Who's Spider-Man ?

Who ?

Who ?

Who ?

He didn't realize the suit had stopped long ago until his feet touched the floor of his Tower.

He walked forward as if he was hypnotized.

In front of him was the boy…naked in a tube surrounded by water ? No the consistency is too thick to be water and the color ain't right too. Formalin.

A corpse.

He's dead ?

Tony felt like vomiting. The boy was preserved like some kind of exhibits animal.

“Welcome back, Superior”

“I'm back FRI”

His voice got out as he was pushed back.

What ?

“You must be surprised, Tony Stark. I guess everyone will when they see this”

He felt his body move towards a mirror. He still looked the same, no way.

Deadly blue eyes, a maniac grin splattered on his fucking face.

Not Tony, not Tony, not Tony-!

“No, no I am TONY STARK”

“It was kinda a shame that the only person who recognizes the real you first is dead huh ? Everyone else became suspicious after I intentionally revealed my true self, a little play here and there is enough to fool them all. Hell they even like me, everyone is grateful for a more powerful Tony. Everyone but that pretty boy, he got suspicious before I could even say hello. It was really a shame, he was so sweet looking at me with earnest love in his eyes, only to be crushed when he saw me.”

“That spider in every universe, could never stop causing me trouble. That pretty boy with a god sent ass always gets in my way, it was funny seeing him desperate on his knees trying to rationalize me in order to bring you back. He was so cute…”

His body moved towards the tube this time.

No,no,no.

“That I couldn't help but kill him”

“My muse … all pretty for me, for us.”

“Isn't that what you also want ? Stark ? For him to be forever in our grasp.”

____

I really like SIM!Tony, there's too much I want to write about this guy. He's a red flag but I'm blind.

[veltana]

Inspired by repairman67 on TikTok and his use of the word fleshlight as a nickname 🙈

400-ish words Steve Rogers/Fem!Reader smut. 

“There's my little fleshlight.”

Steve's deep voice broke you from your musings a second before he pressed you up against the bookcase. Shelves dug into your skin at varying points but all you could feel was Steve's large warm body pressed against you and the unmistakable bulge against your ass.

“H-how was work?” you stammered.

“Stressful,” Steve spoke right at your ear. His belt jingled as he undid it and raised your skirt a moment later.

His thick cock breached you without resistance. The moment you had recognized his presence you'd grown wet. Just as he had trained you to.

The pace was ruthless and your whimpers mixed with Steve's groans in the small library. As you were about to start begging, Steve reached for something. A moment later a buzz began and then a small vibrator pressed against your clit. Steve had a lot of various things hidden all through the house.

With a needy cry, you reached over your shoulder to tangle your fingers into Steve's hair, trying to pull him closer.

“That's it my little toy, come on daddy's cock.”

Pulses swept through your body, every wave more intense.

Steve’s other hand tapped your thigh.

“Give me your leg,” he commanded and you raised it for him to be able to grab under your knee. The new angle forced his dick deeper, every thrust brushing the right spot.

Your voice climbed with the climax and when it erupted you screamed.

Steve pulsed inside you, the toy fell to the floor and he grabbed you around the waist, crushing you to him as he finished with a growl of your name.

You stood there, still against the shelves as Steve breathed against your neck then kissed your skin tenderly. A stark contrast to the tryst moments ago.

“Welcome home,” you sighed happily.

He pulled back, releasing your leg and letting his dick slip from you. 

“Come on, let's have dinner and if you're good maybe we can take a bath and have an early night,” Steve mused as he turned you around to face him. 

His release leaked along your legs as you walked but you didn't mind, it was what you were trained for after all.

As always, you smiled when you saw him and leaned into him when he grabbed you to lead you to the kitchen. 

[appleceoleadershipstyles]

[Apple,Inc.] Leadership Styles

[Juaneishia]

What makes a leader strategic and innovative? There are components that allow a leader to take over the skills of being strategic and innovative. To have the inclination for long-term success, competitive advantage, problem-solving mindset, adaptability to change, and passion for impact, personal growth, etc. What makes a leader possess dysfunctional behavior? The ingredients are insecurity, ego, greed, inability to delegate, the list is endless but not satisfactory for the company or the employees. As we dive into the different leadership traits of the CEOs of Apple, we will learn the dos and don’ts of being a leader. You will be able to identify what type of leader you want to be for your business or personal growth based on the styles that were depicted by each CEO. Using strategies and innovation will cause challenges to arise; this is normal. “Strategic thinkers question the status quo. They challenge their own and others’ assumptions and encourage divergent points of view. Only after careful reflection and examination of a problem through many lenses do they take decisive action. This requires patience, courage, and an open mind. (Schoemaker, Krupp, Howland, 2013). Dysfunctional leadership is very unprofessional. “Unprofessional behavior can cause discomfort among team members, and it can undermine the leader’s credibility and authority.” (Blog).

Apple, Inc.

Founded in 1976 by Steve Jobs, Steve Wozniak, and Ronald Wayne as a partnership, Apple started in the garage of the Jobs family home. Apple would move over the next half century to become one of the largest and most successful tech companies in the world. The first product developed by Jobs and Wozniak was the Apple I computer and according to Wikipedia (2020) was “sold as a motherboard with CPU, RAM, and basic textual-video chips—a base kit concept which was not yet marketed as a complete personal computer.” In 1977, after creating the Apple I computer, Apple became an incorporated company in Cupertino, California. By the time apple had become an incorporation, Wayne had sold his shares back to Jobs and Wozniak. (Richardson, 2023).

After several product successes in 1977, including Apple II and MacIntosh computers, Apple faced trouble in the market. Wintel offered lower-priced PC clones that were operated on Intel software systems. Through this trouble, Apple was faced with bankruptcy. During the challenge of facing bankruptcy, Jobs repaired the failed operating system’s issues and developed new products including iPod, iMac, iPhone, and iPad allowing the company to perform a complete 360 by 1978. (2020).

Apple, after its start, went through a few short-term CEO’s. While the more prominent leaders remain to be Jobs, Wozniak, and Tim Cook, a collaborative modern-aged leader, it is important to acknowledge the role that others had played and how it affected the company and its vision. (2023).

Today, Apple has evolved to offer full-service technology in many varieties. Apple technology now includes headwear, watches, Augmented Reality (AR), streaming and subscription services, music, and more (2025). Apple has effectively adapted to the demand of the consumer through a technological revolution.

References

Schoemaker, P J. H. Krupp, S. Howland, S. (2013, January -February) Strategic Leadership: The Essential Skills. Harvard Business Review. https://hbr.org/2013/01/strategic-leadership-the-esssential-skills

Blog. The Top 5 Dysfunctional Behaviors That Leaders Should Avoid. Lolly Daskal. https://www.lollydaskal.com/leadership/the-top-5-dysfunctional-behaviors-that-leaders-should-avoid/

Wikipedia. (2024). Apple Inc. Wikipedia; Wikimedia Foundation. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Apple_Inc.

‌ Richardson, A. (2023). The founding of Apple Computer, Inc. Library of Congress. https://guides.loc.gov/this-month-in-business-history/april/apple-computer-founded

Muse, T. (2023, November 27). Apple’s CEO History. Www.historyoasis.com. https://www.historyoasis.com/post/apple-ceo-history

Apple. (2025). Apple. https://www.apple.com/

[rayofsunshinc]

Ranking my muses from doesn't know the meaning of personal space to will physically move away if you're in theirs.

Wade (just doesn't have any awareness about it at all lmao)

Cassidy

Stiles

Fiona (simply is not used to the concept of "personal space" lmao)

Eddie (doesn't care lmao)

Richie (okay, but more like will grip your shoulder, nudge your ribs, grab your arm in exclamation, but will be tense if you do the same thing)

Sam (is respectful of your space, but will also nudge/touch too easily lmao)

Steve H

Aaron (is respectful, but will touch when he knows its okay lol)

Nick

Dominic (I just feel like gentle, reassuring touches more than anything come from him lol)

Allison

Ben

Steve R

Peeta (this would be higher pre-hijacking)

Jackson

Dan

Natasha (keeps her distance)

Michonne (same)

Jughead (he won't be aggressive by any means but will def back up if you're too close lmao)

Jonathan (same to an even higher degree lol)

Mickey (do not touch or get too close lol)

Bucky (same)

Daryl (same)

[writerscafehub]

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀: 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

@eulalielatibule

From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing? (No downplaying yourself!)

Hmm I'd say I'm like, 2.8? I'm pretty basic and don't do much editing but my stories are good and I'm proud of them!

2. What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works?

I think I excel at fluffy family fics. I just love writing good dads being sweet with their kids, especially daughters. Another thing that makes me stand out is how I write autistic!reader. I haven't seen anyone else write that for the Chris Evans fandom (not including Steve) so I'm proud to be the one to do it.

3. Are there any writers that inspire you?

Everyone in the server is so talented and they all inspire me in different ways. @a-lumos-in-the-nox puts out story after story with her OC and Ron Weasly and I just love that! Especially as someone who wants to start writing more OCs. @flordeamatista’s writing is so poetic and beautiful and I admire it so much

4. What’s the fic you’re most proud of?

I'm pretty proud of my Suburban Dad Sunday verse. It's done so well but it's also just very fun for me to write and it's letting me explore characters that I hadn't written for previously.

5. Which character(s) do you find easiest to write and which do you find most difficult to write?

Jake Jensen is definitely the easiest. Idk he's just so sweet and fun and the vibes are immaculate with him! The most difficult would probably be any dark character

6. Who or what do you find yourself writing about most?

I write a lot about Jake and fluff/hurt and comfort.

7. Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about!

I have a Lloyd Hansen fic with a living music box ballerina. It'll be a giant/tiny fic which I know isn't super popular but I find it so comforting and I'm excited to share it!

8. First fandom you ever wrote for?

I believe it was Phantom of the Opera 🙈😂

9. Any guilty pleasure trope(s)?

I can't think of any tropes, but I do love reading daddy kink fics lmao

10. A trope you’ll never, ever write for.

I mean never say never, but I do not like enemies to lovers. Idk why, I just can't get behind it. I also will likely never write a mob au.

11. Wildest fic you’ve ever written?

Probably my most recent one with Jake Jensen x Reader x Ari Levinson. H-O-T-T-O-G-O was my first time writing a throuple and it was interesting!

12. Favorite pairing to write for? (platonic or romantic!)

I love writing Lloyd Hansen and his Reader for SDS. He's just so funny and petty and it's fun to see his shenanigans!

13. Do you listen to anything while you write?

No, I get too distracted. I need it to be quiet while I write. I do have playlists to help me get into the right headspace or to help with muse.

14. One-shots or multi-chaptered works?

One shots all the way

15. Have you ever daydreamed about side adventures/spin-offs from your fic? Tell us about them!

All the time! Although I feel like most of my fics are little side quests to one big story/universe. I want to do more with The Purrfect Pair- Kitten is so cute and there's lots of potential for mischief with her and Wanda.

16. Is there anything you’ve wanted to write, but you’ve been too scared to try?

Soooo many things. I want to write a smutty series but smut is just so hard for me to write for some reason. I admire those who write it so effortlessly!

17. What’s the nicest comment you’ve ever received?

There are many comments that I hold near and dear to my heart. Recently I got a comment from @thezombieprositute who said my ability to turn simple prompts into heart warming stories was a testament to my skills and it really made my day.

18. Have you ever gone outside of your comfort zone for a fic? How did it turn out?

A long time ago I wrote a Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers Halloween fic. It was on my old account so it isn't around anymore, though I might repost it here. It was definitely a challenge as it was more involved and took a lot of world building. It turned out okay, but maybe I'll revisit it and do some editing!

19. Tooth-rotting fluff or merciless angst?

Fluff, all the time.

20. Do you have any OCs? Tell us about them!

Do I?? I have so many. Thank you for the time to infodump about some of my favorites lmao

I have Eloise Montgomery who is a sexretary for Pete Brenner. Her face claim is Sydney Sweeney!

There's also Charles Randolph who is similar to Ransom in that he's a bratty rich boy who I pair with Ari Levinson. His face claim is Logan Lerman.

I have soooo many but they are my favorites!

21. If you could enter the universe of any one of your fics, which would it be and why?

Oh gosh, that's hard. Probably my The Purrfect Pair au. I want to live in a cottage with Wanda Maximoff more than anything!

22. Is there anything you wish your audience knew about your writing or writing process?

I can't think of anything in particular. It just takes me a while to write because of burn out and stuff but I love it and I love sharing it with everyone 🩷

23. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of.

Oof this is hard for some reason but I do like this from Pine-ing For You

One time when you both were drunkenly singing All I Want for Christmas is You, he pulled you over to the plant hanging from the ceiling and kissed you straight on the mouth. It was a chaste, puckered lips type of kiss and yet it still made your heart flutter from excitement. You both carried on as if nothing happened, never brought it up when you were sober. You eventually decided the incident was merely drunken shenanigans and nothing more, although a part of you wanted to feel his plush lips against yours again.

24. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

I'm excited for all that I have planned this year and I hope I can venture into some new territory with my fic writing. I appreciate everyone's support, you all mean the world to me! 🙏🏼 

[choccyhearts]

18+!!

lifeguard!steve is sitting at his post when he catches something beautiful out of the corner of his eye as he does his usual broad scan of the area

and he does a double take to see a gorgeous woman lying on a lounge chair, legs stretched out and skin shining mesmerizingly in the sun. the cover-up she wears is wrapped tight to her body, but he can still see the cherry red swimsuit underneath peak out. as she sun bathes, her eyes remain closed under a pair of large white sunglasses.

his lips part as his brain slowly shifts to static as he continues to gaze at the pretty lady. oh boy, did she make his swim trunks tighten.

a whistle from across the pool snaps him out of his daze. he looks towards the racket to see one of the other lifeguards shouting at some rough housing kids. when he turns back, he loses his muse. his eyes dart around frantically, searching for his newly beloved angel like his life depended on it -- and it honestly kind of did.

because the second he finds her standing in the shallow end of the pool along, cover-up and sunglasses forgotten, he takes in a large gasp, realizing he had stopped breathing for the entirety he was searching for her. he admires her now unobstructed face, and his heart pounds harder as he imagines being lucky enough to look into her eyes.

he watches as she occasionally hops on foot to foot, thankful she's been left undisturbed. he wouldn't hesitate a milisecond to blow his whistle at any bratty child that dared interrupt his love's relaxation.

however, a couple minutes later, he's dragged down from the lifeguard to switch sections. great.

now he had to go over to the furthest post away from his angel. he tries not to visibly pout as he sulks to his station. as he climbs up and settles, he sadly looks for his girl. he can hardly see her, now with hoards of rowdy kids splashing and playing in the water.

he just wishes he could make everyone disappear and be alone with her. dive into the pool and swim over cooly to her. he knows girls love watching his body when he swims after how many dates he got when he became captain of the swim team.

then, he'd introduce himself to her, flirt with her, and try to make her flustered like she makes him feel. once she falls for him as fast as he has her, he'd lean in and kiss her, confirming their true love with a kiss like in the stories he loved as a child. he's always believed in true love despite how many times his heart has been beaten and stomped on, and now, with his dream woman in front of him, he knows it's all true. all of the fairy tales and fables.

after an excruciating thirty minutes spent daydreaming, steve finally gets to switch posts, this next one closer to his love. he walks over to his post with a little spring in his step. just as he gets to his post he sees his love is no longer in the pool.

he quickly climbs up so he can have a better view, and when he does, he sees his angel with a distressed look on her face. worried?? upset?? why?? steve's heart tightens, and his feet move faster than he realizes because the next thing he knows, he's standing right next to her.

"h-hi," steve's voice is hoarse when he tries to speak. he flusters and clears his throat loudly. "ehm, hello, miss. i came-i walked over to see if there was a problem-what the problem is?" he inwardly winces when he realizes he just said nonsense.

but somehow, he pulls off his poker face because she responds!

"oh, well, i just realized i think i misplaced my sunglasses. i really hope they weren't stolen," she sighs.

"your glasses, sunglasses? they were stolen!?" steve curses himself. he should've been paying attention!!

"it's no big deal, i have others. those were old anyways," she says, trying to brush off the situation. she doesn't miss how gorgeous the man in front of her is. her heart flutters, and her hands get a little sweaty as she looks at his now concerned face.

"no! no! um, i will look for them, i promise! i'll get them back for you, trust me, i'll interrogate every person in this place and i don't care if it takes hours, or or days-"

the woman grabs his hand softly, making him freeze. his skin errupts in goosebumps, and his legs feel like jelly.

"it's okay, sweetie, the world isn't going to end because i don't have my sunglasses," she smiles at him and his mouth parts open again the same way it did when he first saw her.

all that's in his head is, "pretty lady...called me sweetie...true love...soul mate...mine, mrs. harrington...."

"what's your name?" she guides him to sit down on the lounge chair next to him, and he does so obediently.

"s...steve..." he gulps. "it's steve harrington."

"steve," she purrs. he hums when he hears it, and she giggles, already obsessed with the lovesick boy in front of her. "you know you're really cute, steve?"

he lets a throaty whine crawl up his throat as he realizes how sappy he's being. to a woman he is just meeting!!

"i...i want-"

"yo, harrington! get your ass over here!," an obnoxious voice rings out.

steve rolls his eyes and sighs as he looks at his annoying coworker, ruining his special moment with his baby.

"when are you free?" she asks as steve stands up.

"free...? oh, um, my shift ends in thirty minutes actually," steve says, lying but knowing he can convince his coworker to cover for him since he's done it countless times for everyone else.

"great," the woman smiles. "then i guess i'll keep working on my tan and we can do something together."

his heart flutters and he feels his nether region awaken again due to the tone of her voice.

"mm, but we're just in swimsuits, shouldn't we change?"

his baby lies on her stomach as he continues standing next to her, getting the perfect view of her backside.

"well, what if we don't even need swimsuits for what i want to do?"

steve chokes and feels his length begin to harden.

"y-you, you wanna do-?"

the woman tugs his hand to signal him to lean down to her, which he does.

"i just wanna make love to my boy. that is, if you want to be my boy? i think you're feeling what i'm feeling."

steve sighs and trembles as he replays the words his angel just said.

"yessss, yes, i want that, i want to be your boy, yours, please." he leans close but she stops him.

"not yet, after your shift, sweetie."

steve nods and stands, quickly rushing to his post.

ohhhh, his true love, his sweet angel <3

♡♡♡

hi!! i didn't forget about the other stuff i promised i'd post, but i took a break from writing due to personal reasons. this is an old ramble i found in my drafts and thought it'd be a nice escape from the cold, grim weather lately🩷