Thomas Jefferson's youngest daughter. My father's favorite. Semi-selective. Always open to new threads. Mun is 21. Mostly run from mobile. fc: ellie bamber. I have a rules page, but you don't have to read it to talk to me.
my farming sim game will have animal butchery as a normalized part of the gameplay loop to act as a lightning rod to draw all the discourse and thinkpieces away from topics that would annoy me more
in my farming sim game that has animal butchery as a normalized part of the gameplay loop, shipped products will be sold on a weekly basis, not a daily one. you get a big windfall once a week and then you budget around that. if you want more money in the interim you have to go sell to the local merchants whatever products they specialize in.
in my farming sim game, getting married to one of the townspeople will have a significant impact on your gameplay. if you marry the rival farmer, their smaller farm will be merged with yours. if you marry the town alchemist/doctor you get a buff to all your alchemy and you wake up from getting knocked out in your own home instead of their clinic. if you marry the priestess she uh, idk she does weather related divine magic for you so you can choose the weather, idk i haven't thought too hard about that one yet
these tags are probably a joke but genuinely i do think that more games with romance candidates in general should require you to at least be on friendly terms with their family/close friends before they will romance/marry you. so yes. romancing the MILF will require attending her kid's pretend tea party first. to prove you mean business
Sometimes there's an elaborate bit, and then you commit to it and put a lot of time into creating something with it, pick up a new hobby or two... anyway. Here's Gatsby Great The
can't get over that "who would you trust to drive you in a car" poll. Thank god it's a Wyllsweep with Jaehira as a close second.
So many of the comments are like, "Wyll would stop for every hurt animal and broken-down car on the side of the road." As if 1. Helping people & animals is a bad thing and 2. How many?? Injured animals do you pass in a single drive?? Do you think you're gonna miss your movie with Wyll because he has to rescue 17 dogs on the way?? Where do you live?? Hell?????
Lae'zel?? Someone would cut y'all off in traffic and she'd speed up, cut them off, get out of the car to challenge them to a fight and kill them at the intersection, all in 3 minutes.
Gale wouldn't be a bad driver, but he exclusively takes public transit so he's out.
In my heart of hearts, I know that Karlach needs glasses but refuses to go to the doctor about it. I think of the time my friend swerved to avoid hitting a "cat" that was in fact an empty grocery bag. That's what we're dealing with here.
Shadowheart is a passenger princess. She doesn't have a license, because everyone always picks her up no matter how far away she lives. She controls the music and has two dozen highly curated vibe-specific playlists.
I don't have an explanation re: Astarion. I just know that man shouldn't drive. I don't know that he can't, but I know that he shouldn't and that I won't get in a vehicle if he's behind the wheel.
Boo & Minsc I feel as though I don't even need to explain?? Don't let them drive.
Halsin, Wyll, and Jaehira are the ONLY options from the poll!!!
Halsin is a safe bet. He drives a reliable 90s Ford Ranger. It's only an issue if he's got multiple passengers, because you're gonna have to sit in the tiny little middle seat in the front between him and the other passenger. It's manual so the entire drive you have to find creative new ways to position your knees so he can access the stick shift between them and by the time you get to your destination you're so stiff you might not be able to actually get up and out of the truck.
Wyll is courteous, prompt, great conversation, obeys traffic laws and lets you choose the music. The only thing is that the passenger seat is always covered in empty Monster Energy cans so you have to push them onto the floor when you get in and also sometimes he looks at the GPS too long and lane-drifts.
Jaehira drives like she used to drive taxis in Manhattan. It's terrifying, but she'll get you there, and also she'll buy your drivethru if you say you're hungry.
Halsin doesn’t like cars but he accepts them as necessary and takes them when he must.
He lives in the middle of nowhere without access to public transit.
He has an old pickup truck to haul equipment for wetland restoration projects, plus his several dogs, plus the wildlife he transports to and from his house (he’s a licensed rehabilitator), his annual garden center haul, every single hitchhiker he passes (no room in the cab because his friends are already sitting up there),
hay bales for his elderly neighbors’ goats because she can’t pick them up herself anymore,
furniture because he will ALWAYS help a friend move apartments no questions asked,
his disabled & elderly friends who can’t bike or walk when they hang out (he’s like 300 he has a lot of old friends especially),
and finally as my sister just put it, “he’s not a lip service hippie, he’s actually getting to distant destinations to get shit done. He’s driving to eco terrorism bingo.”
sorry guys the Halsin stick shift knee thing wasn't supposed to be sexy. I drew from personal experience & that's the truck my dad & older brother drove so I was always squeezed between them with sore ass knee joints,
But I'm reading your tags and realizing that if it were perhaps NOT your dad or brother and instead, say a 300 year old bear druid and a vampire,
then yeah that's fic fodder my bad. Carry on babes
OP's mutual: #this looks like a 10k note post to me!
OP: No! You can't do this to me!
Me: OP says they don't want notes, so I can ruin them by giving them more notes!
Me: However, a clever poster would CLAIM they don't want more notes because they would know that only a great fool would take them at their word. I am not a great fool, so I can clearly not choose to add more notes to this post!
Me: But OP must have known I was not a great fool; they would have counted on it, so I can clearly not choose to scroll past this post!
Me: Because your post was about a problematic character! As everyone knows, problematic characters are exclusively liked by criminals. And criminals are used to having people not trust them, as you are not trusted by me! So I can clearly not choose to add more notes to your post!
Me: And you must have suspected I would have known your profile pic's origin, so I can clearly not choose to scroll past your post!
OP: You're just stalling now.
Me: You'd like to think that, wouldn't you! Your header image is mostly red, a colour with more positive than negative meanings because of a legit thing called color theory, so I can clearly not choose to add notes to your post.
Me: But, your username is a clever pun, which means you must have studied… and in studying you must have learned that man is mortal! So you would have tried to keep other tumblr users as far from you as possible, so I can clearly not choose to scroll past your post!
OP: Make your choice.
Me: I will, and I choose… [pointing behind OP] Are those female-presenting nipples?!
OP: [turning around, while I quickly switch the "Next page" and "Reblog" buttons] What? Where? I don't see anything.
Me: Oh, well, I… I could've sworn I saw something NSFW. No matter. I choose… to ignore your post! [I triumphantly click "Next page", which is actually "Reblog"]
OP: You have chosen… poorly.
Me: You only THINK I chose poorly! That's what's so cringe! I switched buttons when your back was turned! Ha ha, you fool! You feel victim to one of the classic blunders. The most famous is never get involved in a flame war on Twitter; and only slightly less well known is this: Never go in against a shitposter, when notes are on the line!
OP's mutual: #this looks like a 10k note post to me!
OP: No! You can't do this to me!
Me: OP says they don't want notes, so I can ruin them by giving them more notes!
Me: However, a clever poster would CLAIM they don't want more notes because they would know that only a great fool would take them at their word. I am not a great fool, so I can clearly not choose to add more notes to this post!
Me: But OP must have known I was not a great fool; they would have counted on it, so I can clearly not choose to scroll past this post!
Me: Because your post was about a problematic character! As everyone knows, problematic characters are exclusively liked by criminals. And criminals are used to having people not trust them, as you are not trusted by me! So I can clearly not choose to add more notes to your post!
Me: And you must have suspected I would have known your profile pic's origin, so I can clearly not choose to scroll past your post!
OP: You're just stalling now.
Me: You'd like to think that, wouldn't you! Your header image is mostly red, a colour with more positive than negative meanings because of a legit thing called color theory, so I can clearly not choose to add notes to your post.
Me: But, your username is a clever pun, which means you must have studied… and in studying you must have learned that man is mortal! So you would have tried to keep other tumblr users as far from you as possible, so I can clearly not choose to scroll past your post!
OP: Make your choice.
Me: I will, and I choose… [pointing behind OP] Are those female-presenting nipples?!
OP: [turning around, while I quickly switch the "Next page" and "Reblog" buttons] What? Where? I don't see anything.
Me: Oh, well, I… I could've sworn I saw something NSFW. No matter. I choose… to ignore your post! [I triumphantly click "Next page", which is actually "Reblog"]
OP: You have chosen… poorly.
Me: You only THINK I chose poorly! That's what's so cringe! I switched buttons when your back was turned! Ha ha, you fool! You feel victim to one of the classic blunders. The most famous is never get involved in a flame war on Twitter; and only slightly less well known is this: Never go in against a shitposter, when notes are on the line!
i love love love your prompts. 9 or 19, whichever you prefer <3
i was gonna try to combine them, but all i could think about was your fic so i decided to try and be original instead. hope it's everything you were dreaming it would be <3
19. sitting on each other's laps
“Nope, get up. That’s my seat.” Steve snaps his fingers at Dustin, other hand balancing his plate of pizza.
“You got up,” Dustin counters. “You forfeit all rights to your seat when you get up.”
Steve doesn’t bother arguing with the kid, knowing he’ll be met with a snotty, Those are the rules, Steve. What, you want me to change the universal laws of dibs for you? Get over it. Instead, he frowns at El, settled in between Dustin and Lucas on the couch in the Wheeler’s basement. “You were supposed to save my spot.”
She has the grace to look at least a little sorry. “I tried.”
“You have superpowers. Seems like maybe you could’ve tried a little harder.”
El shrugs, apparently done feeling apologetic.
“She just likes me more than she likes you. More than anyone, actually.” Dustin slings his arm around her shoulders, gummy smile on full display. “I’m her favorite.”
“Ha.” Max’s eyes are unfocused, but she still manages to fling an unimpressed look in Dustin’s direction, shifting in her wheelchair next to the couch.
“I’m her favorite boy,” Dustin corrects.
“Hey! What about me?” Lucas pouts.
“I’m literally her boyfriend,” Mike says from where he’s sitting on the recliner opposite Eddie, taking a break from their discussion about the latest campaign to scold his best friends.
“Tough shit. Still her favorite.”
El looks at Mike, then at Lucas, at Dustin, considering, and back to Mike. “Dustin’s my favorite,” she confirms.
“That’s messed up,” Lucas mutters, accepting Max’s consoling pat on his arm.
“Congratulations,” Steve says dryly, interrupting Dustin’s cheers of victory and Mike’s flustered protests. “Now where am I supposed to sit?”
“You can sit right here, princess.”
Eddie, comfortably sprawled in one of the recliners, pats his lap and grins smugly at Steve, like he knows his invitation won’t be accepted.
It’s been some kind of unspoken competition between the two of them lately, seeing who can get under the kids’ skin the fastest with their excessive displays of affection and pet names. It started with a co-parenting bit the kids developed several weeks back. The dipshits love to tease them, enjoy how frustrated Steve gets when they call him their mom and Eddie their dad, and the best way to get them to lay off, Steve had reasoned, was to lean into it.
Instead of huffing or rolling his eyes the next time the kids told Eddie to “talk some sense into his wife,” Steve had said, “Eddie agrees with me. Don’t you, honey?” while unnecessarily straightening the collar of Eddie’s jacket, pressed close into his space.
Eddie’s eyes had widened in surprise, but only briefly. Almost immediately, his hands were settled on Steve’s hips, and he was crooning something ridiculous, along the lines of, “Always, baby.” It had the kids gagging in response, making various faces and comments that all meant the same thing: they hated seeing the two of them act like this.
Which is, of course, exactly why Steve and Eddie keep doing it.
It’s like a game of Gay Chicken, except the only people they’re trying to freak out are their obnoxious observers.
So when Eddie offers his lap and looks at Steve like he knows he won’t do it, like this is too far outside the range of Steve’s comfort level, Steve rises to the challenge.
Like he does most things in his life, Steve doesn’t think it through very much, just shrugs and plops down in Eddie’s lap. “Thanks,” he says over his shoulder, relishing the surprised sound Eddie lets slip.
It’s more uncomfortable than he thought it would be, and he shifts around a little, fully blaming Eddie’s skinny ass legs. He’s never actually sat in someone’s lap before, though, so maybe he’s a little to blame, too.
He always loved being the one with a lapful of the latest girl he was flirting with. He got to wrap his arms around her waist, tug her closer to his chest. It was easy to access her ear for whispered conversations and her neck for teasing kisses. And it was always nice, being that close to someone, the weight of them bearing down on him pleasant. Comforting, even.
This, though, being on the other end of it, isn’t as fun as he thought it would be. His thighs are tense, still holding himself up so he doesn’t crush Eddie beneath him, and he feels about two seconds away from toppling over.
“You’re not gonna break me, you know.” Eddie’s voice is low, his breath hot on the back of Steve’s neck, and Steve fights like hell to suppress a shudder. He’s supposed to be the one with the upper hand in all this. “I’m stronger than I look. Relax.”
Eddie’s arm loops around his middle and pulls him in, and Steve finally lets himself melt into his hold, resting his full weight on Eddie. He wraps an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and angles his body inward, keeping one leg tucked between both of Eddie’s and draping the leg closest to Eddie across Eddie’s other leg. He doesn’t resist it when Eddie grabs Steve’s outer thigh, keeping him in place. Steve would never admit it, but it’s almost…nice. Being held by Eddie like this. Possibly even better than being the one doing the holding.
“Must you? There’s a stool, like, right next to you,” Dustin says, pointing to the stool that is, in fact, available and right next to them.
Whatever. Steve shrugs. “This is more comfortable.”
“Aww, sweetheart,” Eddie coos and taps Steve’s nose with his ringed forefinger. Steve narrows his eyes. Leave it to Eddie to keep trying to one-up him. Trying and succeeding, which is the most irritating part.
“Ew,” Max says after Lucas explains to her what they’re doing. “Can you not?”
“Seriously. We were in the middle of a conversation,” Mike adds on, eyeing Steve with disdain.
“And? I’m not stopping you.” Steve takes a bite of his pizza. Pretends like this is completely normal and not at all affecting him in any way.
He feels, more than hears, Eddie chuckling and has to bite back his own smile in response. “Continue, Wheeler,” Eddie beckons, and everyone resumes their conversations before Steve interrupted them so he could sit on Eddie’s lap.
At least, Steve thinks they do. It’s hard to focus on anything other than the way Eddie is unconsciously rubbing his thumb in soothing circles against Steve’s waist. It’s a little dizzying, and Steve blames his recent dry spell on his reaction to such a simple touch. To any of Eddie’s touches as of late. He’s just desperate for any kind of human contact, so it only makes sense that he’s more sensitive to it, no matter who it’s coming from.
He’s startled out of his thoughts when El makes Dustin’s drink explode in his face. Dr. Pepper drips off his nose, and the room erupts into laughter as he lunges to wipe his face off on her sleeve despite her twisting away, squealing.
Eddie laughs, delighted, never tired of El’s displays of her powers, and his grip on Steve tightens. When he turns to Steve with his bright eyes and dimpled cheeks, Steve is powerless to do anything but return his smile and hope it doesn’t look too dopey.
Maybe Eddie would want to try this again during movie night this week. Steve reaches up to grasp his other wrist, properly encircling Eddie’s neck with his arms, and sinks further into Eddie’s hold. The kids would hate it.
i love love love your prompts. 9 or 19, whichever you prefer <3
i was gonna try to combine them, but all i could think about was your fic so i decided to try and be original instead. hope it's everything you were dreaming it would be <3
19. sitting on each other's laps
“Nope, get up. That’s my seat.” Steve snaps his fingers at Dustin, other hand balancing his plate of pizza.
“You got up,” Dustin counters. “You forfeit all rights to your seat when you get up.”
Steve doesn’t bother arguing with the kid, knowing he’ll be met with a snotty, Those are the rules, Steve. What, you want me to change the universal laws of dibs for you? Get over it. Instead, he frowns at El, settled in between Dustin and Lucas on the couch in the Wheeler’s basement. “You were supposed to save my spot.”
She has the grace to look at least a little sorry. “I tried.”
“You have superpowers. Seems like maybe you could’ve tried a little harder.”
El shrugs, apparently done feeling apologetic.
“She just likes me more than she likes you. More than anyone, actually.” Dustin slings his arm around her shoulders, gummy smile on full display. “I’m her favorite.”
“Ha.” Max’s eyes are unfocused, but she still manages to fling an unimpressed look in Dustin’s direction, shifting in her wheelchair next to the couch.
“I’m her favorite boy,” Dustin corrects.
“Hey! What about me?” Lucas pouts.
“I’m literally her boyfriend,” Mike says from where he’s sitting on the recliner opposite Eddie, taking a break from their discussion about the latest campaign to scold his best friends.
“Tough shit. Still her favorite.”
El looks at Mike, then at Lucas, at Dustin, considering, and back to Mike. “Dustin’s my favorite,” she confirms.
“That’s messed up,” Lucas mutters, accepting Max’s consoling pat on his arm.
“Congratulations,” Steve says dryly, interrupting Dustin’s cheers of victory and Mike’s flustered protests. “Now where am I supposed to sit?”
“You can sit right here, princess.”
Eddie, comfortably sprawled in one of the recliners, pats his lap and grins smugly at Steve, like he knows his invitation won’t be accepted.
It’s been some kind of unspoken competition between the two of them lately, seeing who can get under the kids’ skin the fastest with their excessive displays of affection and pet names. It started with a co-parenting bit the kids developed several weeks back. The dipshits love to tease them, enjoy how frustrated Steve gets when they call him their mom and Eddie their dad, and the best way to get them to lay off, Steve had reasoned, was to lean into it.
Instead of huffing or rolling his eyes the next time the kids told Eddie to “talk some sense into his wife,” Steve had said, “Eddie agrees with me. Don’t you, honey?” while unnecessarily straightening the collar of Eddie’s jacket, pressed close into his space.
Eddie’s eyes had widened in surprise, but only briefly. Almost immediately, his hands were settled on Steve’s hips, and he was crooning something ridiculous, along the lines of, “Always, baby.” It had the kids gagging in response, making various faces and comments that all meant the same thing: they hated seeing the two of them act like this.
Which is, of course, exactly why Steve and Eddie keep doing it.
It’s like a game of Gay Chicken, except the only people they’re trying to freak out are their obnoxious observers.
So when Eddie offers his lap and looks at Steve like he knows he won’t do it, like this is too far outside the range of Steve’s comfort level, Steve rises to the challenge.
Like he does most things in his life, Steve doesn’t think it through very much, just shrugs and plops down in Eddie’s lap. “Thanks,” he says over his shoulder, relishing the surprised sound Eddie lets slip.
It’s more uncomfortable than he thought it would be, and he shifts around a little, fully blaming Eddie’s skinny ass legs. He’s never actually sat in someone’s lap before, though, so maybe he’s a little to blame, too.
He always loved being the one with a lapful of the latest girl he was flirting with. He got to wrap his arms around her waist, tug her closer to his chest. It was easy to access her ear for whispered conversations and her neck for teasing kisses. And it was always nice, being that close to someone, the weight of them bearing down on him pleasant. Comforting, even.
This, though, being on the other end of it, isn’t as fun as he thought it would be. His thighs are tense, still holding himself up so he doesn’t crush Eddie beneath him, and he feels about two seconds away from toppling over.
“You’re not gonna break me, you know.” Eddie’s voice is low, his breath hot on the back of Steve’s neck, and Steve fights like hell to suppress a shudder. He’s supposed to be the one with the upper hand in all this. “I’m stronger than I look. Relax.”
Eddie’s arm loops around his middle and pulls him in, and Steve finally lets himself melt into his hold, resting his full weight on Eddie. He wraps an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and angles his body inward, keeping one leg tucked between both of Eddie’s and draping the leg closest to Eddie across Eddie’s other leg. He doesn’t resist it when Eddie grabs Steve’s outer thigh, keeping him in place. Steve would never admit it, but it’s almost…nice. Being held by Eddie like this. Possibly even better than being the one doing the holding.
“Must you? There’s a stool, like, right next to you,” Dustin says, pointing to the stool that is, in fact, available and right next to them.
Whatever. Steve shrugs. “This is more comfortable.”
“Aww, sweetheart,” Eddie coos and taps Steve’s nose with his ringed forefinger. Steve narrows his eyes. Leave it to Eddie to keep trying to one-up him. Trying and succeeding, which is the most irritating part.
“Ew,” Max says after Lucas explains to her what they’re doing. “Can you not?”
“Seriously. We were in the middle of a conversation,” Mike adds on, eyeing Steve with disdain.
“And? I’m not stopping you.” Steve takes a bite of his pizza. Pretends like this is completely normal and not at all affecting him in any way.
He feels, more than hears, Eddie chuckling and has to bite back his own smile in response. “Continue, Wheeler,” Eddie beckons, and everyone resumes their conversations before Steve interrupted them so he could sit on Eddie’s lap.
At least, Steve thinks they do. It’s hard to focus on anything other than the way Eddie is unconsciously rubbing his thumb in soothing circles against Steve’s waist. It’s a little dizzying, and Steve blames his recent dry spell on his reaction to such a simple touch. To any of Eddie’s touches as of late. He’s just desperate for any kind of human contact, so it only makes sense that he’s more sensitive to it, no matter who it’s coming from.
He’s startled out of his thoughts when El makes Dustin’s drink explode in his face. Dr. Pepper drips off his nose, and the room erupts into laughter as he lunges to wipe his face off on her sleeve despite her twisting away, squealing.
Eddie laughs, delighted, never tired of El’s displays of her powers, and his grip on Steve tightens. When he turns to Steve with his bright eyes and dimpled cheeks, Steve is powerless to do anything but return his smile and hope it doesn’t look too dopey.
Maybe Eddie would want to try this again during movie night this week. Steve reaches up to grasp his other wrist, properly encircling Eddie’s neck with his arms, and sinks further into Eddie’s hold. The kids would hate it.
i love love love your prompts. 9 or 19, whichever you prefer <3
i was gonna try to combine them, but all i could think about was your fic so i decided to try and be original instead. hope it's everything you were dreaming it would be <3
19. sitting on each other's laps
“Nope, get up. That’s my seat.” Steve snaps his fingers at Dustin, other hand balancing his plate of pizza.
“You got up,” Dustin counters. “You forfeit all rights to your seat when you get up.”
Steve doesn’t bother arguing with the kid, knowing he’ll be met with a snotty, Those are the rules, Steve. What, you want me to change the universal laws of dibs for you? Get over it. Instead, he frowns at El, settled in between Dustin and Lucas on the couch in the Wheeler’s basement. “You were supposed to save my spot.”
She has the grace to look at least a little sorry. “I tried.”
“You have superpowers. Seems like maybe you could’ve tried a little harder.”
El shrugs, apparently done feeling apologetic.
“She just likes me more than she likes you. More than anyone, actually.” Dustin slings his arm around her shoulders, gummy smile on full display. “I’m her favorite.”
“Ha.” Max’s eyes are unfocused, but she still manages to fling an unimpressed look in Dustin’s direction, shifting in her wheelchair next to the couch.
“I’m her favorite boy,” Dustin corrects.
“Hey! What about me?” Lucas pouts.
“I’m literally her boyfriend,” Mike says from where he’s sitting on the recliner opposite Eddie, taking a break from their discussion about the latest campaign to scold his best friends.
“Tough shit. Still her favorite.”
El looks at Mike, then at Lucas, at Dustin, considering, and back to Mike. “Dustin’s my favorite,” she confirms.
“That’s messed up,” Lucas mutters, accepting Max’s consoling pat on his arm.
“Congratulations,” Steve says dryly, interrupting Dustin’s cheers of victory and Mike’s flustered protests. “Now where am I supposed to sit?”
“You can sit right here, princess.”
Eddie, comfortably sprawled in one of the recliners, pats his lap and grins smugly at Steve, like he knows his invitation won’t be accepted.
It’s been some kind of unspoken competition between the two of them lately, seeing who can get under the kids’ skin the fastest with their excessive displays of affection and pet names. It started with a co-parenting bit the kids developed several weeks back. The dipshits love to tease them, enjoy how frustrated Steve gets when they call him their mom and Eddie their dad, and the best way to get them to lay off, Steve had reasoned, was to lean into it.
Instead of huffing or rolling his eyes the next time the kids told Eddie to “talk some sense into his wife,” Steve had said, “Eddie agrees with me. Don’t you, honey?” while unnecessarily straightening the collar of Eddie’s jacket, pressed close into his space.
Eddie’s eyes had widened in surprise, but only briefly. Almost immediately, his hands were settled on Steve’s hips, and he was crooning something ridiculous, along the lines of, “Always, baby.” It had the kids gagging in response, making various faces and comments that all meant the same thing: they hated seeing the two of them act like this.
Which is, of course, exactly why Steve and Eddie keep doing it.
It’s like a game of Gay Chicken, except the only people they’re trying to freak out are their obnoxious observers.
So when Eddie offers his lap and looks at Steve like he knows he won’t do it, like this is too far outside the range of Steve’s comfort level, Steve rises to the challenge.
Like he does most things in his life, Steve doesn’t think it through very much, just shrugs and plops down in Eddie’s lap. “Thanks,” he says over his shoulder, relishing the surprised sound Eddie lets slip.
It’s more uncomfortable than he thought it would be, and he shifts around a little, fully blaming Eddie’s skinny ass legs. He’s never actually sat in someone’s lap before, though, so maybe he’s a little to blame, too.
He always loved being the one with a lapful of the latest girl he was flirting with. He got to wrap his arms around her waist, tug her closer to his chest. It was easy to access her ear for whispered conversations and her neck for teasing kisses. And it was always nice, being that close to someone, the weight of them bearing down on him pleasant. Comforting, even.
This, though, being on the other end of it, isn’t as fun as he thought it would be. His thighs are tense, still holding himself up so he doesn’t crush Eddie beneath him, and he feels about two seconds away from toppling over.
“You’re not gonna break me, you know.” Eddie’s voice is low, his breath hot on the back of Steve’s neck, and Steve fights like hell to suppress a shudder. He’s supposed to be the one with the upper hand in all this. “I’m stronger than I look. Relax.”
Eddie’s arm loops around his middle and pulls him in, and Steve finally lets himself melt into his hold, resting his full weight on Eddie. He wraps an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and angles his body inward, keeping one leg tucked between both of Eddie’s and draping the leg closest to Eddie across Eddie’s other leg. He doesn’t resist it when Eddie grabs Steve’s outer thigh, keeping him in place. Steve would never admit it, but it’s almost…nice. Being held by Eddie like this. Possibly even better than being the one doing the holding.
“Must you? There’s a stool, like, right next to you,” Dustin says, pointing to the stool that is, in fact, available and right next to them.
Whatever. Steve shrugs. “This is more comfortable.”
“Aww, sweetheart,” Eddie coos and taps Steve’s nose with his ringed forefinger. Steve narrows his eyes. Leave it to Eddie to keep trying to one-up him. Trying and succeeding, which is the most irritating part.
“Ew,” Max says after Lucas explains to her what they’re doing. “Can you not?”
“Seriously. We were in the middle of a conversation,” Mike adds on, eyeing Steve with disdain.
“And? I’m not stopping you.” Steve takes a bite of his pizza. Pretends like this is completely normal and not at all affecting him in any way.
He feels, more than hears, Eddie chuckling and has to bite back his own smile in response. “Continue, Wheeler,” Eddie beckons, and everyone resumes their conversations before Steve interrupted them so he could sit on Eddie’s lap.
At least, Steve thinks they do. It’s hard to focus on anything other than the way Eddie is unconsciously rubbing his thumb in soothing circles against Steve’s waist. It’s a little dizzying, and Steve blames his recent dry spell on his reaction to such a simple touch. To any of Eddie’s touches as of late. He’s just desperate for any kind of human contact, so it only makes sense that he’s more sensitive to it, no matter who it’s coming from.
He’s startled out of his thoughts when El makes Dustin’s drink explode in his face. Dr. Pepper drips off his nose, and the room erupts into laughter as he lunges to wipe his face off on her sleeve despite her twisting away, squealing.
Eddie laughs, delighted, never tired of El’s displays of her powers, and his grip on Steve tightens. When he turns to Steve with his bright eyes and dimpled cheeks, Steve is powerless to do anything but return his smile and hope it doesn’t look too dopey.
Maybe Eddie would want to try this again during movie night this week. Steve reaches up to grasp his other wrist, properly encircling Eddie’s neck with his arms, and sinks further into Eddie’s hold. The kids would hate it.
i love love love your prompts. 9 or 19, whichever you prefer <3
i was gonna try to combine them, but all i could think about was your fic so i decided to try and be original instead. hope it's everything you were dreaming it would be <3
19. sitting on each other's laps
“Nope, get up. That’s my seat.” Steve snaps his fingers at Dustin, other hand balancing his plate of pizza.
“You got up,” Dustin counters. “You forfeit all rights to your seat when you get up.”
Steve doesn’t bother arguing with the kid, knowing he’ll be met with a snotty, Those are the rules, Steve. What, you want me to change the universal laws of dibs for you? Get over it. Instead, he frowns at El, settled in between Dustin and Lucas on the couch in the Wheeler’s basement. “You were supposed to save my spot.”
She has the grace to look at least a little sorry. “I tried.”
“You have superpowers. Seems like maybe you could’ve tried a little harder.”
El shrugs, apparently done feeling apologetic.
“She just likes me more than she likes you. More than anyone, actually.” Dustin slings his arm around her shoulders, gummy smile on full display. “I’m her favorite.”
“Ha.” Max’s eyes are unfocused, but she still manages to fling an unimpressed look in Dustin’s direction, shifting in her wheelchair next to the couch.
“I’m her favorite boy,” Dustin corrects.
“Hey! What about me?” Lucas pouts.
“I’m literally her boyfriend,” Mike says from where he’s sitting on the recliner opposite Eddie, taking a break from their discussion about the latest campaign to scold his best friends.
“Tough shit. Still her favorite.”
El looks at Mike, then at Lucas, at Dustin, considering, and back to Mike. “Dustin’s my favorite,” she confirms.
“That’s messed up,” Lucas mutters, accepting Max’s consoling pat on his arm.
“Congratulations,” Steve says dryly, interrupting Dustin’s cheers of victory and Mike’s flustered protests. “Now where am I supposed to sit?”
“You can sit right here, princess.”
Eddie, comfortably sprawled in one of the recliners, pats his lap and grins smugly at Steve, like he knows his invitation won’t be accepted.
It’s been some kind of unspoken competition between the two of them lately, seeing who can get under the kids’ skin the fastest with their excessive displays of affection and pet names. It started with a co-parenting bit the kids developed several weeks back. The dipshits love to tease them, enjoy how frustrated Steve gets when they call him their mom and Eddie their dad, and the best way to get them to lay off, Steve had reasoned, was to lean into it.
Instead of huffing or rolling his eyes the next time the kids told Eddie to “talk some sense into his wife,” Steve had said, “Eddie agrees with me. Don’t you, honey?” while unnecessarily straightening the collar of Eddie’s jacket, pressed close into his space.
Eddie’s eyes had widened in surprise, but only briefly. Almost immediately, his hands were settled on Steve’s hips, and he was crooning something ridiculous, along the lines of, “Always, baby.” It had the kids gagging in response, making various faces and comments that all meant the same thing: they hated seeing the two of them act like this.
Which is, of course, exactly why Steve and Eddie keep doing it.
It’s like a game of Gay Chicken, except the only people they’re trying to freak out are their obnoxious observers.
So when Eddie offers his lap and looks at Steve like he knows he won’t do it, like this is too far outside the range of Steve’s comfort level, Steve rises to the challenge.
Like he does most things in his life, Steve doesn’t think it through very much, just shrugs and plops down in Eddie’s lap. “Thanks,” he says over his shoulder, relishing the surprised sound Eddie lets slip.
It’s more uncomfortable than he thought it would be, and he shifts around a little, fully blaming Eddie’s skinny ass legs. He’s never actually sat in someone’s lap before, though, so maybe he’s a little to blame, too.
He always loved being the one with a lapful of the latest girl he was flirting with. He got to wrap his arms around her waist, tug her closer to his chest. It was easy to access her ear for whispered conversations and her neck for teasing kisses. And it was always nice, being that close to someone, the weight of them bearing down on him pleasant. Comforting, even.
This, though, being on the other end of it, isn’t as fun as he thought it would be. His thighs are tense, still holding himself up so he doesn’t crush Eddie beneath him, and he feels about two seconds away from toppling over.
“You’re not gonna break me, you know.” Eddie’s voice is low, his breath hot on the back of Steve’s neck, and Steve fights like hell to suppress a shudder. He’s supposed to be the one with the upper hand in all this. “I’m stronger than I look. Relax.”
Eddie’s arm loops around his middle and pulls him in, and Steve finally lets himself melt into his hold, resting his full weight on Eddie. He wraps an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and angles his body inward, keeping one leg tucked between both of Eddie’s and draping the leg closest to Eddie across Eddie’s other leg. He doesn’t resist it when Eddie grabs Steve’s outer thigh, keeping him in place. Steve would never admit it, but it’s almost…nice. Being held by Eddie like this. Possibly even better than being the one doing the holding.
“Must you? There’s a stool, like, right next to you,” Dustin says, pointing to the stool that is, in fact, available and right next to them.
Whatever. Steve shrugs. “This is more comfortable.”
“Aww, sweetheart,” Eddie coos and taps Steve’s nose with his ringed forefinger. Steve narrows his eyes. Leave it to Eddie to keep trying to one-up him. Trying and succeeding, which is the most irritating part.
“Ew,” Max says after Lucas explains to her what they’re doing. “Can you not?”
“Seriously. We were in the middle of a conversation,” Mike adds on, eyeing Steve with disdain.
“And? I’m not stopping you.” Steve takes a bite of his pizza. Pretends like this is completely normal and not at all affecting him in any way.
He feels, more than hears, Eddie chuckling and has to bite back his own smile in response. “Continue, Wheeler,” Eddie beckons, and everyone resumes their conversations before Steve interrupted them so he could sit on Eddie’s lap.
At least, Steve thinks they do. It’s hard to focus on anything other than the way Eddie is unconsciously rubbing his thumb in soothing circles against Steve’s waist. It’s a little dizzying, and Steve blames his recent dry spell on his reaction to such a simple touch. To any of Eddie’s touches as of late. He’s just desperate for any kind of human contact, so it only makes sense that he’s more sensitive to it, no matter who it’s coming from.
He’s startled out of his thoughts when El makes Dustin’s drink explode in his face. Dr. Pepper drips off his nose, and the room erupts into laughter as he lunges to wipe his face off on her sleeve despite her twisting away, squealing.
Eddie laughs, delighted, never tired of El’s displays of her powers, and his grip on Steve tightens. When he turns to Steve with his bright eyes and dimpled cheeks, Steve is powerless to do anything but return his smile and hope it doesn’t look too dopey.
Maybe Eddie would want to try this again during movie night this week. Steve reaches up to grasp his other wrist, properly encircling Eddie’s neck with his arms, and sinks further into Eddie’s hold. The kids would hate it.
So does Wales voting to ditch the Prince of Wales title automatically mean William ain't Prince of Wales anymore, or is there other BS they have to go through first to make England accept it?
Oh, god no, Wales has done no such thing. One of the councils of Wales, Gwynedd, has internally voted on it, basically to gauge opinion and also to make it official where they stand.
Okay, so, super quick and massively oversimplified political explanation: Wales is split into 22 counties, each of which has a council that does its day to day local governing, like when to put the recycling out and picking what colour to make the bins (recycling is a Big Deal in Wales and we are third in the world for doing it so this is a Very Important part of the job and we're Very Proud.) These councils are separate from electoral constituencies, though. Those are almost the same as the ones used for UK general elections, where we would vote for MPs to represent us in Westminster. However, there are more for Welsh elections, and in those we vote for MSs - Members of the Senedd.
The Senedd is the Welsh Parliament. That's where the laws are made in our devolved areas, aka the stuff Westminster is not allowed to decide for us, like education and cheese and recycling. That, if anywhere, is the place where we'd need politicians to demand an end to the Prince of Wales title if they were going to have a chance, because that's where the First Minister is, and he's like... the leader of Wales. Biggest Dog. The one who told the BBC right to their faces that Wales would base its pandemic response on science rather than creating a smokescreen to cover up our personal birthday party scandals. Mark Drakeford, an underwhelming but competent politician who is reportedly very good about packing his shopping away using the packing shelf in Aldi so he doesn't hold people up; which in Welsh people's books makes him Tidy.
Also, as councils go - as regions of Wales go - Gwynedd is the Most Welsh. The Welshest bit. Wales cubed. Uberwales. The land that England forgot. Come to Cymru. I Welsh, you Welsh, he/she/it Welsh. Very Welsh. Much Welsh. So Wales.
This did not require a vote, is what I'm saying.
So, what's actually happened here is that a local government of a single easily won council have agreed that William shouldn't be Prince of Wales in their opinion, and that's their official position. In terms of meaningful impact it's roughly equivalent to a custard pie dropped off a four foot ladder, except the pie was dragon shaped and sang 'O Gymru' as it fell.
HOWEVER.
It IS notable for being an official governmental body that has had the balls to OFFICIALLY tell the monarchy to do one, just as everyone is being very monarchial and shrieking 'Traitor!' at anyone not tearing their hair and beating their breast at the Queen's demise. And as long as it is an official, voted-on position, it opens up some possibilities both for other councils around the country and for the Senedd. If other councils start doing the same thing... it applies pressure. It's all about awareness. It helps grease the wheels of the actual petitions on the subject that are currently gathering signatures.
It helps establish a mandate, basically.
I suspect the next to vote will be either Anglesey, which copies Gwynedd a lot, or Monmouthshire, which will deliberately vote the other way, because their councillors are English. Alternatively nothing at all will happen. But we'll see!
I am also intrigued to speculate on what would happen if a region did vote to reject crown authority.
The whole point of a hereditary monarchy is that we don't get to choose. It's decided by cousin fucking not the popular vote.
But that's not been actually tested in the modern era. The monarchy has coasted along by not rising to the top of anyone's agenda sufficiently to cause a problem.
It would be very interesting to see what would happen if it lost that implicit mandate.
That would actually mean withdrawing from the United Kingdom entirely and becoming an independent nation, which would Not Be Allowed. This vote isn't about Crown authority, though, just the title "Prince of Wales", because it is used as a title for gross imperialist reasons and without the popular Queen Liz to hide behind no one is much willing to let the Crown get away with that shit anymore.
What interests me, actually, is the Severn Bridge. They forcibly renamed it the Prince of Wales Bridge a couple of years back (No One Liked That), and I wonder what happens now that the title is so unpopular Gwynedd is ready and willing to beat William to death with a leek if he doesn't give it up
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