#(This Is How You Know I've Been Here WAY Too Long)

[shouyuus]

What about... Vi teaching you how to trib, as a friend of course... I don't know why I'm obsessed with the idea of her being all flustered when you ask her to show you since you've never done it before.

with friends like these

violet; super duper 18+, smut/fluff, lesbian pining, college roommate!vi au (kinda)

"f-fuck -- fuck, vi -- mm -- ngh --"

"j-juuuust like that -- c'mon --" vi is panting, her cheeks so warm her head is starting to spin, and she's not quite sure how she got here -- well no, she knows exactly how she got here -- but she can't quite think for the way she's got you trembling beneath her, your sodden cunts sliding against each other as you dig your nails into her arms, your head thrown back into the lumpy material of her pillow, her name on your lips like a curse or a prayer.

she groans, rucking her hips against yours, shifting her leg to find a better angle. you keen, mouth falling open in a soft pant, your finger scrabbling at her arms. she grins -- a half-feral thing, as she leans down, if only to watch you fall apart for her from as close as she can possibly get.

"vi, vi, vi!"

"yeah? gonna cum for me, pretty girl? gonna show me how good this feels?" she breaths, grunting as she hoists your thigh over her hip and fucks herself down over you all the harder.

it'd been a strange sort of conversation to have on a thursday night, you and her, drunk and high (respectively), sprawled out on the old couch in your living room, vi chuckling as you stutter yourself into a deeper and deeper corner --

"it's just -- i've never understood how it works --"

vi takes another long hit of her j, blowing out smoke, "what? scissoring?"

your blush darkens as you crinkle your nose.

"y-yeah! like how --" you place your mug of box-wine on the table and hold up both of your hands, two fingers extended as you try to simulate the motion, "it just doesn't seem like it'd be -- pleasant?"

vi grins, a bit too wide, reaches out with one of her hands to catch yours, tugging you closer.

"it's not like that -- chill -- chill -- relax your fingers, or -- legs -- whatever --" she giggles, head tipping back as she tries to wrangle one of your hands between both of hers, trying not to think too hard on the way you let yourself be manhandled into her lap, how easily you give into her instructions, how your skin smells just a bit like pastry bread, sweet and buttery and utterly, mind-bendingly delicious.

she swallows, frowning at your hand in hers --

"usually, you're like --" she tries to show you with her fingers criss-crossed with yours, "face to face, but like -- your legs are crossed --"

you giggle, watching as she tries to slot her fingers between yours.

you grab her hands in yours, shaking your head, tipping back even as she tries to yank you back into her.

"at this point, it'd be easier for you to just show me --"

your breath cuts off as vi's hands tighten around you, hauling you up and over her lap, so that somehow, you end up straddling her, your arms propped on her shoulders, your thighs on either side of her hips, her palms warm on your waist as you fight for a breath that she's long-since stolen.

there's a storm brewing behind the horizons of her ocean eyes, and lightning strikes against the flintstones in your stomach, setting your body ablaze as she bites her lips and looks up at you, her eyes going dark in the static-ridden light.

"yeah? you... you want me to show you how it's done?"

you swallow, saltwater and caramel, slick and sweet down your throat as you search her eyes for any sign of uncertainty.

you find none -- only the hard-lined want you'd become oh-so familiar with as the days went on. the way you'd catch her watching you sometimes, right after you shower, the way you'd find yourself watching her, when she's trying to show off how well she a can flip a pancake in the pan, in nothing but boxers and a tank top.

"i-is that weird?" you ask, chewing on your bottom lip.

vi lets out a soft groan, her eyes darkening as she catches the gesture.

"no -- i mean -- we're friends, right?" she asks, her voice so laced with want she can almost taste it.

you nod, your eyes caught in the net of her gaze, almost in a trance as you let your eyes slick down to her lips.

she leans up to kiss you; you lean down to let her.

it's simple after that -- and so, so easy -- her hoisting you up easy as anything, the pair of you tumbling into her bed, her asking in a voice that's almost a whisper (as if she's afraid she'll wake one of you up from this tender, tenuous daydream) --

"is this okay?"

you nod, eager, fingers sliding into her hair as she groans and peels the sleep shorts from you, tugging down your underwear along with it.

it's only been ten minutes, but vi thinks that it's been centuries, or perhaps only the span of a few seconds. she can't think when she's got you pinned beneath her like this, and she knows she must look a bit unhinged from where you are, sweat shining on her skin as she works her hips down over yours, intent on finding just the perfect angle.

"vi -- oh -- that feels --"

"a-ah fuck, princess -- holy shit --" vi jerks above you, a familiar coil tightening in her stomach as she tries to slow down her pace, to draw it out -- she wants to savor this, to remember this --

"vi -- vi -- mmngh -- th-that's s-so good -- you're making me -- oh god --" you're tugging on her arms, fingers looping around her wrists like bracelets, squeezing her tight as your head tips back and vi leans down to sink her teeth into the bared skin of your throat.

"shit, shit, shit -- no one's gonna -- gonna make you feel this good, hm? pretty g-girl -- no one but me -- fuck --" she rolls her hips, a breath hitching out of her as she feels your swollen clits catch, and then you're squirming beneath her, wetness slicking down your puffy pussy lips, the slick of it nearly throwing her off-pace as she sucks a dark hickey into your skin.

"o-only you, vi -- fuck, please, please, please --" you cum with a hard spasm, fire eating through you as vi whines into the crook of your neck, her own orgasm hitting her half a second later. and it's all you can do to reach out and hold her to you, letting her ride out the waves of her pleasure in soft jerks and heavy pants against you.

"h-hoooly shit..." vi puffs out a laugh against your collarbones as she pushes herself back up. you blink blearily up at her, a tired giggle bubbling out of you as vi pulls back and you both grimace at the soft shluck of your bodies coming apart, sticky with cum and sweat and whatever else.

"w-well --" you say, "i -- that was -- i think i get it now --"

vi stares at you for a second before breaking into a fit of laughter. you join in a second later, reaching for a wad of tissues from her bedside table and handing her a few. she takes it from you with a wide grin.

"and you thought it wouldn't be pleasant."

you crinkle your nose, making a face as the pair of you try in vain to mop up the mess between your bodies. vi holds out her hand for your tissue and you hesitate for a second before dropping it into her open palm.

"thanks," you say.

vi shrugs, biting her lip, her nose ring glinting in the warm glow of her study lamp. she turns to toss both wads into the trash bin by the door. you whoop as they fall in, one after the other.

"what are friends for, right?" she asks, turning back around with a loping grin. there's a kaleidoscope of color caught in the rings of her eyes, and a sadness that you don't have the time to unpack. so you shove back the wince that threatens to shake apart your composure at her words and smile right back.

"y-yeah -- right -- friends."

but you're pretty sure friends don't do what you and vi just did. and friends definitely don't wander back to their own room later that night, the smell of her still on your skin, a pulsing want echoing between your legs, a threading need ticking beneath your ribcage at the thought of her name.

[witherby]

Please help a starving Anon..... I need more Mother Hen Hal from you...The way you write him and the characters are so good and perfect(idc if anyone disagrees), i am dying../silly/nf

It can have anything you wish to add, maybe a sprinkle of hurt/comfort (let's not forget the queers(BatLantern) too/verysilly)/lh

Yeah, you can absolutely have more mother hen Hal!!! This one is a little early in the relationship, pre-Flittermouse, and Dick-centric.

The Littlest Wayne: Mother Hen (Dick)

"B! Thanks for coming to get —"

Dick stops and tilts his head as the window of the Lambo rolls down. It's not Bruce, here to pick him up from a celebration at Titan's Tower he was just a smidge too drunk to drive himself home from.

It's Hal.

"Hi, kid," he greets. "Bruce was asleep when you texted. I told him to chill out and I'd get you instead."

"Oh, hi," Dick says, a little off-kilter. His grin only wanes a little. "Yeah. Okay."

He walks around the car and climbs into the front passenger seat, brows furrowed. It's the first time they've been alone together since Bruce told the boys that they started seeing each other.

"Thanks."

"No problem. Have you eaten in a while? Might hit a drive-through before we get back. My treat as long as you don't tell Alfred."

Dick nods slowly, staring at Hal like he can't quite figure everything out. Hal just shoots him an easy smile, then focuses his attention on the road.

They're quiet for a while, the radio playing some top 10 hit softly through the speakers neither one of them recognizes. When Hal pulls up to order them some food (and how curious that he knows Dick's usual) then waves away Dick's effort to pay, the man can't help but say something.

"You don't... have to do that."

"It's like thirty bucks, champ. I've got it," Hal chuckles.

"I don't mean the food."

Hal looks at Dick curiously. It's probably the fact that he's still pretty sloshed, but he feels especially vulnerable in the car with him, and can't quite keep his thoughts to himself.

"You don't have to pretend to care about Bruce's kids just because you're dating Bruce." Even as he says it, he knows it was mean and dismissive. Dick chews on the inside of his cheek and can't figure out how to take that back, so he stops talking.

Hal doesn't respond. Dick can't make himself look at Hal's face, so he fiddles with the Nightwing charm dangling off his cellphone.

"Here's your meal, sir. Enjoy," says a fast food employee. Hal thanks her quickly, then pulls into a parking lot and kills the engine. Dick listens to him rustle through the bag and sort out what belongs to whom for a minute, then gently takes his portion from him when it's offered.

"Hey," says Hal. Dick pretends he's too preoccupied with opening the sauce packet for his chicken nuggets to look up. "Okay. I'd probably be a little skittish after dropping a bomb like that, too. So, just listen for a sec, okay?"

"Kay," he mumbles through a mouthful of fries, trying very hard not to feel like he's eight years old and sitting in Commissioner Gordon's office, waiting to find out if Bruce will assume guardianship and take him home, waiting to see if he'd be accepted or rejected.

"I think Bruce is it for me."

Hmm. Okay, not the words he expected to hear, but Dick is listening.

"You've probably heard that from his exes before. Something about Bruce is just...captivating. He's got his own gravitational pull, and I'm not interested in getting knocked outta orbit."

Hal pops a couple fries in his mouth. Dick sees his shoulders shrug in his periphery.

"I'm in love with him, is the point. Have been for a few years now, but I didn't think it was reciprocal until that battle in Coast City. But Bruce isn't just Bruce, is he?"

Hal reaches across the center console to gently squeeze Dick's knee.

"He's Bruce, and Dick, and Jason, and Tim, and Damian. He's got a whole gaggle of wonderful sons I'd love to get to know."

"We've worked together tons of times before," Dick says. He's barely picking at his food, too busy trying to figure out Hal's point.

"Sure. I've worked with Nightwing a lot. But that's not all you are. I don't really know anything about Dick Grayson, and I'd really like to."

Hal pulls his hand away and picks up his burger to take a bite.

"All this to say...I know you guys are mostly grown. You're used to having one parent and don't really need another one, and, damn, I don't know the first thing about any of that. But I'm in this for the long haul, and you can rely on me. I don't want any of you believing you're just an afterthought to me. Okay?"

Oh. Oh.

In lieu of an answer, and also because his throat feels too tight to speak, Dick just nods and goes back to eating. They finish their food in silence and Hal gets out to dispose of the trash, then turns the engine again to take him the rest of the way home. As he parks and they leave the garage, Dick throws his arms around Hal. He pretends the stinging in his eyes is some weird effect from the alcohol when Hal hugs him back just as tight.

"Goodnight, kid," he murmurs. "Go take a glass of water and some ibuprofen to bed with you for that hangover in the morning."

"Yes, mom," Dick snorts, teasing, but he detours to the kitchen with a shy little grin anyway.

[spiderfunkz]

HYUN-JU x TALKACTIVE!READER

pairings. cho hyun-ju x f!reader

author's note: this is so me.. i talk way too much so i'm lowkey just projecting myself on here. anyways, requests are open but i'm taking my time replying since i've been busy so just keep that in mind!

▸ hyun-ju is a good listener. a great one, even. she's got a big heart and soul, she's someone who is willing to listen to whatever you have to say. and she doesn't just listen, she tries to understand. which is a quality that is hard to find these days.

▸ you noticed it a bit later in your relationship. every time you talk, she listens and isn't afraid to ask questions regarding your situation or interest. she's genuinely invested in what you have to say. "oh, really? tell me more, hon."

▸ even if you just say random things or suggestions related to literally anything, she's all ears! whatever is going on in your head, every single sentence you utter, she's always nodding a long. she's probably wondering how you managed to say three sentences in a second.

▸ you tend to get very extroverted when you get comfortable. you'd ramble about anything for hours and hours, hyun-ju finds this adorable. she's definitely admiring you as you speak, your words always find a way to her heart.

▸ if you were talking about something she has no clue in, she's gonna research about it either online or in books so she could talk about it with you! even if small mistakes slip, her efforts show. and you appreciate that more than ever.

▸ "wait, you watched the movie and read the book?" — "yeah! i thought it would be nice to discuss it with you. you talked about it nonstop last week, so i figured i'd give it a look, and i must admit- you do have amazing taste."

▸ good moods mean you'd go on walks with hyun-ju and visit multiple parks at once. pointing out random birds, trees, and flower types. speaking whatever crossed your mind in specific moments.

▸ "oh look! a daisy. did you know daisies bloom in the spring like every other flower and their last bloom is in autumn? though, that's very common, um. ah! moon flowers, they only bloom one night a year." you'd giggle, "i did not know, but i do now!" hyun-ju smiles.

▸ during movies you can get very quiet. but as the movie ends, you'd ramble quicker than speed itself. "it's okay. at best. i just don't understand why the characters would do such things! i guess it is fictional, but still! does logic not exist in that universe?"

▸ same thing with books, you can read for hours in silence, but as soon as you close the book... "hyun! you must read this! not only is this one of a kind, but once you read it you can not put it down. i love it so much, it made me tear up a bit because of a character, but, um. okay, no spoilers!"

▸ hyun-ju could get really lost in your voice sometimes. you'd be talking about something silly like rocks or something, and she'd still be mesmerized. hyun-ju thinks that your voice could easily soothe her to sleep.

▸ and it's true, your voice makes her feel so safe. during conversations, she gets sudden realizations of how lucky she truly is. to be able to listen to you, in a calm setting, just the two of you.

▸ if you send her voice notes, she'd listen to it on repeat. especially when she's away or vice versa, she loves hearing your voice over and over as it gives ger comfort.

▸ "hey, hyun! i know you're really busy, and i know you only listen to my voice notes when you're done with work, so i ought to tell you about how much i love you. and how much i miss you. don't forget to tell me goodnight, or not the bed bugs might bite me."

▸ she would never think of your ongoing talks as unimportant. if you would suddenly pause and stop talking, she'd notice immediately. but hyun-ju always reassures you that it's perfectly okay.

▸ if you feel tired or off, and you just wanna be quiet for a bit, hyun-ju likes to ramble too, she does it a bit more often ever since she's met you. her voice is sleepy, her head lays near yours, your bed is cold and hyun-ju is the only source of warmth. as she traces your hands, "do you wanna know what happened earlier in the office?" you'd nod, she'd talk and only stop when you've completely fallen asleep.

▸ "and that's the end of it. goodnight, angel." she'd place a kiss on your forehead before falling asleep herself.

[bambi-kinos]

Sorry for taking so long on this post, I've been writing it in my head for weeks trying to figure out how to phrase everything. But umm I think Paul was in a bath tub when he was taking certain photos of John.

So the book itself is divided into sections based on location. There's a London section, a Paris section, then they go to New York and then on to Miami, etc. The London section is really interesting and the photos are very revealing IMO. I definitely recommend getting your hands on a physical copy, your local library may have it. This is something you should experience physically because uh. There's a lot of John in here. To me at least it's very obvious how deeply in love Paul was with John.

So imagine for a minute that you're Paul McCartney, and you're in London, England with your best mate.

The way that journalists are treating this set of photos makes me feel a little insane because so many of them are saying "this is John and Paul backstage!" Y'all, this is not John and Paul backstage. This is John and Paul in their hotel room. Alone.

First off let's look at this:

Here's John shaving the stubble off his face. Sunglasses still on; John had prescription sunglasses so if he's wearing these then his contacts are not in. Look at the background of this photo:

John's in the way here but that is a set of curtains in a hotel room! You can tell from the horizontal bar on top, those are to hold the black out curtains. And another thing: I think these are John and Paul's suitcases sitting on top of a wardrobe. Not entirely sure about that though since the image is so grainy.

At this point John has taken off his sunglasses, he's brushing his teeth and has washed his face. Again, look at the background:

This is a medicine cabinet, a storage feature in bathrooms to keep toiletries safe from the humidity caused by a bath and/or shower. I don't know how common these are anymore:

What I find interesting about this sequence of photos is that John first pulls a funny face for Paul:

But then something grabs his attention:

Spits out the toothpaste:

And then off John nyooms...making soft eyes at Paul no less.

Pay close attention to the background on this photo! We're seeing the hotel window from another angle, the horizontal strip at the top is the tell:

I outlined the horizontal strip on the curtain and then drew lines on the dips in the fabric so you can compare it to the OG photo:

Paul is utilizing an interesting run-and-gun style of camera shooting here, he's got John tilted and at an angle that puts John over Paul. Unconsciously signaling something? Let's move on...

According to this strip...

...this is the next photo in the sequence:

Again calling attention to more interesting details here:

John's tie is missing and his shirt is undone. And that looks like a towel in his hands. He's turning in for the night.

2. John is standing in front of a reinforced door which are common in hotels but are not common in dressing rooms:

3. This photo is itself a reflection of John's face that Paul has taken in a mirror, maybe a vanity mirror. Someone in the McLen discord server said it was too small to be a vanity mirror and I'm inclined to agree, so maybe it's a compact or hand mirror propped up on the sink.

So what does this mean? I think that John and Paul were getting ready for bed, someone knocked on the door, and John went to answer it. You'd think Paul would but for some reason he didn't. Oh and another thing...check out the four jackets in the mirror:

They're definitely hanging from something so John and Paul were looking out for the suits that night.

Next in the sequence, John is back at the sink washing up. Check out the hotel window curtain being reflected in the mirror there!

Then something kind of odd happens...John is seen coming back and re-entering the shot again? Through out Eye of the Storm Paul emphasizes a lot of duality with John, including a shot where John reflects on his own sculpted face. Paul was very interested in John doing performing the act of reflection on his own face:

But here's the really interesting bit and what makes me think Paul was naked in a bathtub when he took these last two photos:

Y'all, that's the fluffy fringe of a towel! You can tell that the threads are hanging down from it! These are very different from the clean lines of the curtain or the medicine cabinet or even the lines of their suit jackets! Paul was sitting in or on the edge of the bath tub when he took these photos of John! He wrapped a towel around his camera to protect it from getting wet! Cameras are generally made for right handed people so when Paul had his finger on the button on the right hand side. That means Paul keeping his finger on that button pushed the edge of the protective towel over the lens!

So I submit to you Paul McCartney's Eye of the Storm, where he submitted a film strip where he was staying in a hotel room with John and was most likely nude and bathing when he took John's photographs! Someone knocked on the door to get their attention while Paul was naked so John answered the door for them, while Paul followed him a little. John was enjoying having Paul right there for him too:

PLEASE get Eye of the Storm, it's such a great book and there's so much in it. Paul lets the pictures speak for themselves and wow they have one hell of a story to tell!

@perasperaadastratoday

[cupidbedsy]

୨୧ unpredictable ; cb98

➪ summary: chicago weather is unpredictable, but connor and y/n always make the best of it.

➪ warnings: none !

➪ word count: 0.8k

➪ cupid's notes: it has been way too long since i've written something for connor and i am so grateful that a nonnie sent me this idea i was able to write a small little blurb for him. and yes, it is totally fucking freezing in here, please save us

© cupidbedsy ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

Early mornings with Connor were always her favorite thing. Soft sunlight streamed through the cracked-open curtains, the radiator hummed softly, and Connor’s arm thrown across her stomach as he buried his head into her shoulder. 

The peaceful bliss the two were both encompassed in was soon disrupted by her phone's blaring ringtone. She blinked her eyes open slowly, raising her hand to her face to wipe the remnants of sleep from her eyes. She reached over, clicking accept on her call as she brought it to her ear, “Hello?”

Connor groaned from beside, trying to shove his head further into her to escape the muffled voices. 

Soon enough, her hand was running through his hair and her phone was thrown back on the nightstand. He let out a soft sigh in content, pushing his head into her hand as she spoke, “I’m off today. No school, no work.”

“Like I would’ve let you go in sub-zero weather.” 

She said nothing, settling back into the comfort of the bed and continuing to play with his hair. However, the sleep Connor desperately wanted to fall back into left him and now his eyes were wide and his mind was awake. 

He scooted down the bed just far enough so he could rest his chin against her stomach, causing her to look at him curiously, “What’re you doing?”

“Cuddling you,” Connor stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world as he wrapped his arms around her torso and rested his head flat against her belly. 

She couldn’t help that escaped her mouth, returning her fingers to his hair and going on her phone, most likely starting her doom scrolling of the day. 

It was a few minutes later when he spoke again, his words murmured from his current position, “What do you want to do today?”

“I do have a few things to finish for class but other than that, whatever.”

He shoots her a grin, one that’s both comforting and filled with mischief that makes her stomach queasy, “What?”

“What?” He replies coyly, sitting up and pushing himself back so he’s resting against the heels of his feet, towering over her slightly. 

She takes the opportunity to climb off the bed and head towards the closet where she’s left things in case something like this ever happened, Chicago weather was always unpredictable. 

It doesn’t take Connor long to come up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her to him so her back is flushed with his chest. He watches as she picks out a shirt, one that they both know is actually his, before she moves on to pluck a pair of sweatpants from the drawer.

“Connie?”

He hums in response but he’s too busy pressing kisses along her shoulder and up her neck to pay attention to what she was saying. She sighs, both of pleasure and annoyance, as she sinks back into his warmth, letting her hands find his.

He reluctantly pulls away when he recognizes the silence she’s taken on is tainted with the slightest bit of irritation. He spins her around, smirking when her eyebrows shoot up in surprise, “What is it baby?”

“I really need to finish this thing for class and then I promise I’m all yours. Why don’t you go make breakfast?”

And how could he say no to the adorable, innocent eyes she was giving him? He sighed, leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead and cheek, before finally planting one on her lips before murmuring, “Fine.”

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

Both breakfast and her assignment didn’t take long to finish up which left the two of them snuggling up on the couch as they watched Desperate Housewives, a show the two had accidentally stumbled upon after a late night of searching high and low for something to watch. 

“I feel like I need to restart this because if I’m totally honest I don’t remember anything that happened in the first season.”

Connor’s eyes flicked over to y/n, “Good because me too. It’s been so long since we’ve actually had time to do this.”

She smiled, curling into him. His left arm wrapped around her shoulders, bringing her closer to his side, her head against his chest and hand absentmindedly tracing shapes across his lower torso. He took the remote from her other hand, navigating his way to the Disney+ app so he could put the show on, “I’ve missed this.”

“I’ve missed this too,” she peered up at him, kissing his jaw before settling back against him as the first episode played across the TV.

Chicago weather was unpredictable, but whether it was cold or hot, it seemed to work out in their favor.

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[sporadicallyanenthusiast]

First of all, let me just thank you for taking the time to explain all of these points! There were many contexts here I didn't know about and it helps make more sense of the story! So thank you so much ❤️

And the thing about Ancient Greek and color is really fascinating! Kudos to the people that first began translating the ancient texts, because oh boy! Hahaha @mari--lace also mentioned in the replies how it is not a consensus on Athena's eye color either. I've only ever heard about the "wine colored sea" point, but never had the thought to dig deeper and learn more. I am definitely going to change that hahaha There are so many interesting things to learn, no wonder so many scientists have been studying the topic for centuries.

I'll have to admit, our poor Menelaus really did suffer a lot, dear Gods. Since my first contact with him was through the Odyssey and some fandom posts, sometimes I forget Agamemnon was his brother. And yes, as much as he loved Odysseus, learning about your brother's death like that can't be easy to digest. And the timeline of how long he stayed shipwrecked was a little fuzzy to me, so it makes sense that after 7 years, his memory would be hazy! I see what you mean when you refer to it as a vision/dream now. I didn't know Aegisthus had them exiled either, so that definitely adds even another layer to the hell Menelaus' life was at that time! We talk so much about Odysseus' hardships, but oh my, poor Mene didn't catch a break either, I'm appalled 😰 I have yet to wrap my mind around the fact the the poems were supposed to be performed out loud as well. A lot of the narrative choices make way more sense when you remember that, it's not just a regular book. I suppose that is why some things sound jarring when you read it for the first time.

And yes! Oh my, I never thought the texts would be so expressive and so warm, you know? We tend to have this idea that people from different times were too cold and distant, but they were still human at the end of the day. Of course they'd be affectionate to the ones they loved! And to be honest, it reminds me of when I read Sherlock Holmes for the first time. It really caught me by surprise how Sherlock and Watson were described and how they talked about each other in such a loving way. I don't know when we stopped writing platonic relationships so beautifully like that, but it truly is a loss to modern literature, in my humble opinion.

And I had no idea about Odysseus' own prophecy! I did know he tried to avoid going to war, but I just assumed it was because he had a newborn son and wanted to be there for Penelope. In that scenario, it really is fair to point out Menelaus trying to warn them wouldn't change much. On that note, Athena herself also told Telemachus Odysseus was alive and he didn't believe her, the Wisdom Goddess hahaha I hadn't thought about that before, but it really does illustrate how hopeless all of them were. If Telemachus didn't believe Athena, you're right, he wouldn't really care about Menelaus' letter either.

I knew about the law of Xenia, so I assumed that was the only reason stopping them from sending the suitors away. I admit I was a tad bit confused why Telemachus didn't force the suitors to leave once he outright had Athena's and Zeus' blessing, so your explanation really helped me make sense of everything!

It's such a nice and sweet detail to have Telemachus and Odysseus going through their journeys at the same time (Telemachus' first journey and Odysseus' last journey, even!), only to meet again at home and taking back control of their palace together. Maybe I teared up a bit, can't deny nor confirm hahahahaha

You are still way more knowledgeable on the topic, and your academic background gives a perspective other people might not have. So I think it's fair to call you as such 🥰❤️

Oh, I see! Sorry, I'm a bit too anxious at times and end up worrying too much that I gave the wrong impression or was rude by accident hahaha

This has been a lovely discussion indeed! Once again, thank you so much for being so kind to explain everything, I'll definitely be reading the books with new perspectives and insights!

Telemachus is so much stronger than me for real. Cause if I had traveled for days, by sea AND land, arrived at the palace of my father's friend and my mother's cousin to humbly ask if they know anything about my missing father and instead of just fucking telling me already, this mf started a monologue about how gay he is for my dad and about the time he captured a God that granted him wishes three, I'd already be telling him to Hurry The Fuck Up. IT'S BEEN TEN YEARS, I DON'T HAVE ALL DAY.

But if the same motherfucker then turned around and told me that he had known FOR YEARS NOW that my dad is trapped on an island AND THE MOTHERFUCKER DIDN'T TELL ANYONE!!!! NOT A SINGLE LETTER!!! I would have already strangled Menelaus with that fucking blond hair of his in front of his wife and children, unhelpful son of a bitch.

[eclipseberrycake]

Virulent (MBC x Reader)

AN: Hey Guyysss-

It's me :) Have I annoyed you all yet? /lh Anyway, I was on tiktok as I always am these days when people annoy me (Ginger mains- when I catch you ginger mains-) I noticed a lot of redesigns of the mains twisted forms to turn them lethal and yk what? Hell yeah. So I've been brain rotting and decided to share with you!

This is kind of far off from what I normally post but I still wanted to share with you, plus it's still MBC! And Distractor! Reader. Think of it as an AU! Of that universe.

Warnings: Depictions of horror themes, talk of mutated twisteds, threats of death (No one dies dw, I'm too soft for that), if you don't vibe with zombie apocalypse vibes, then this one may not be for you, and that's okay! Also kinda shorter than normal because I'm tried and had an assignment due that I forgot about :(.

☁ With all the mains back, runs had surprisingly gotten easier, if you did say so yourself. It was much easier to distract when you knew where the twisteds were and who they were the second you stepped out of the elevator. And having Shelly running around giving boosts made the time spent distracting cut shorter and shorter. Plus having Pebble right there as well was always a bonus.

☁ And of course, your sweet moonshine and berry boy. It was always a pleasure to be with them on runs and have them shadow you as you went; It was like a safety net in a way, moreso when Cosmo came along. It was very rare there was a run going on where one of you was going, and the others did not follow.

☁ That being said, there were times you missed the simpler runs with just you, Poppy and Boxten and maybe a few other commons. The mains all had their inside jokes and experiences together that, regardless of how hard Sprout and Astro tried not to, sometimes left you and Cosmo feeling like the odd ones looking in.

☁ Which is where you were currently, joking and laughing with the other commons as you all tried to go for a long run. It had started early this morning, and while you were unsure how long you were down there, you were sure it was well past lunch. The others knew you'd be gone a while though and planned their days accordingly.

☁ You hadn't even realized the true extent of how far you'd gone until Dandy was popping up, eyes frantic despite you all buying regularly. He eyeballed you as you approached, making you hesitate when reaching for the band on a pillow. "...Is there something wrong?"

☁ "Floor 50. I'm not even down here very long." He spoke and your blood chilled at the tone, Cosmo quickly threading his fingers with your own. Dandy noted this before refocusing back on you, eyes sharp and calculating. "Do you know what you're stepping into?"

☁ "I assume it's no different than any other floor." You sneer back, quickly exchanging your tapes for a bandage, watching carefully as Cosmo did the same.

☁ Dandy took them almost robotically, lips twitching just a bit. "...You've never been this far, have you?" You haven't, you didn't even think there were this many floors, but you weren't going to tell him that. Whether he saw it on your face or not, he grinned. "I'll leave the elevator open. As a one time grace for you all to return at any time." He yanked on the lever suddenly, giving a bright wave. "Good luck! You're gonna need it!"

☁ The warning, from Dandy nonetheless, does little to ease your nerves, but you still step out of the elevator with a kiss for Cosmo before taking off. It was a replica of the Christmas Toon's floor, so the twisted's should've been easy to find. Only...you didn't find anything.

☁ You immediately called out to be aware of objects on the ground, because as much as you loved Blu and Oakley, you didn't want a repeat.

☁ Still, the air felt...different then it did in that time. Like something sinister was watching, waiting, hunting. Taking off once more, you quickly rush to find Cosmo, finding him working on a machine. Seeing him find brings a sense of relief to you, but it's not enough to erase the feeling.

☁ "I don't like it." You frown, looking over your shoulder as you heard the rapid swish of air moving. There was nothing there.

☁ "I get what you mean. Leaving the elevator open?" Cosmo raises a brow ridge, pausing the extracting he was doing. "It's just not-" He turns to face you, only to pause, mouth gaping open as he grows impressively pale incredibly quick. He's staring behind you, watching as something moves. You go to look, but he's quick to stop you.

☁ "Something's wrong." He whispers, much quieter, struggling to draw his eyes away from whatever he was seeing. "I don't want you near...that."

☁ "Near what?" You try to turn around again and he grabs your chin this time. "Y/N, please." He pleads. "We just need to back away and-"

☁ There's a shrill shriek and this time he can't stop you as you whirl around to see Tisha with the same expression Cosmo had on his face. Behind you is a tall twisted, taller than any you've seen, other than Dandy. It's one red eye is glowing at you, locked on as it hands from the ceiling. Two of it's arms hang by it's head, lifeless and stained with ichor, though the large claws don't look any less deadly. A drop of ichor hangs out of its mouth before splatting on the ground, making your stare it, horrified. It moves like a bug, slowly as it's multiple limbs each click against the ceiling.

☁ None of you can move, you can only watch as it grows closer. There's a swish of fabric as it reorientates itself to stand upright, the two limbs that were previously lifeless lifting, as if to caress you. You don't let it, stepping back in time as Cosmo pulls you back into him.

☁ It's close enough you could see it's face though. Half of it's face is stretched unnaturally, tinged a soft blue, but darkens as it twists up in recognition of your act of denial. There's a large white star on the other half, which begins to whirr wildly, spinning and spinning and spinning.

☁ For a fleeting second, your traitorous brain turns to Astro and his twisted and the similarities between that and this...thing.

☁ The star on it's face suddenly shoots out and you tackle Cosmo to the ground as Tisha takes off to warn the others to get to elevator. There's a crash as the machine Cosmo was working on is shattered, ichor spilling out over both of you as glass rains all over the floor. Whatever is in front of you screeches and two arms reach for you.

☁ You're quick to grab Cosmo, hauling him up and taking him with you as you both take off towards the elevator. There's two sets of footsteps behind you, but with a quick glance, you see it's only the one twisted, but with four running limbs being used rather than the regular two. It's catching up fast, too fast, and for a second you swear it's going to grab you, but a hand around your waist makes you're entire system shudder before you and Cosmo are both being yanked into the elevator, which shuts much faster than usual.

☁ Everyone in the elevator is silent before Tisha is letting out a blood curdling scream, grabbing at the edges of her box. "What was THAT?!"

☁ "I don't know!" Goob cries out, big eyes already welling with tears as he pulls at his fur. Scraps is trying to help him best she can, but even she's pale and struggling to control her shaking.

☁ You couldn't outrun it. You couldn't outrun it. YOU COULD NOT OUTRUN IT. As a distractor, that's one of your only roles, and you couldn't do it. Scrambling, you shakily get to your knees, crawling to where Cosmo is slowly sitting up. His eyes are darting everywhere before landing on you, meeting you halfway and cradling you to his chest.

☁ You clutch onto his sweater with white knuckles, shaking so badly you fear tearing the fabric. The way he holds onto you is much the same however, so you don't think he minds too much.

☁ "Maybe...Maybe next time we..." You struggle to find words, throat closing as you fight more tears. Your tail gives a whip behind you before curling around Cosmo, lacing itself between the center of his curl for a better hold.

☁ "We don't." Glisten shudders, smoothing out his bow before rubbing the space between his brows. "We can't- I don't even think the mains would know how to handle that."

☁ "It kinda looked like Astro." Rodger mentions, fingers tracing a crack in his glass before retracting. "Do you think it's possible the Ichor is mutating?"

☁ "Mutating?" You shake your head. "That- That can't be. That's-" You pause before growing suddenly angry. "That's not fair!" You're suddenly seething at the aspect of it all. A new terrain to learn, new twisteds, new methods of containing them; a whole new set of injuries...Of scars. "I can't. I can't do it! I can't!" You cry out, turning to hide your tears in Cosmo's sweater as he numbly rubs your back.

☁ The elevator gives a cheerful ding, a direct contrast to everyone else's mood in the elevator. It opens to the vibrant and cheerful colors of the lobby and you hear the footsteps of the others rapidly approaching, but to you, you're just reminded of-

☁ "Cosmo! Y/N!" Your attention is quickly redirected to where Sprout and Astro are eagerly approaching, the former wrapping you both in a tight hug that the remaining partner is quick to join.

☁ It's a comforting presence and it makes your heart steady itself before fingers are picking at your fur. "Did something happen? You're both covered in ichor." Astro frets, immediately making that ill feeling return to your guts. You debate not telling them before immediately erasing the thought. They needed to know they had too. If anyone could at least begin to get a handle on how to survive...whatever that was.

☁ "There's something about floor 50."

[darkredsugarcookie]

"The Pressure of His Lips" - ex!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi! Like three (3) people have asked me to start posting fics on here, so here we go. I'm new to posting on tumblr, but I'm a wattpad and ao3 veteran, so be nice. I'm still trying to figure out the formatting and everything for this place :P

Summary: After breaking up due to your secret relationship being brought to the surface, you are not handling the separation well. Too much vodka and lonely nights end with you accidentally Bucky from the bathroom floor.

Warnings: Alcohol use, heavy intoxication, mentions of smoking weed, slight hint at SA history upon the reader, angst, alpine mention!!!! let me know if I missed any!

DISCLAIMER: This is an excerpt from a bigger fic I've been writing in which the self-insert has a history of SA. It is hinted at for one sentence in this specific blurb.

By all means, I should’ve been the one that managed to keep my head above water. Dad hit rock bottom when he was my age— after my grandparents died. He was no stranger to tell me about it. It was always an example of what not to do. Even Mom had her struggles after she lost her brother. 

I had every picture perfect reason to stay away from anything that could drag me down like a weight in still water. Which is why I couldn’t tell you how I ended up at the bottom of a bottle on a Monday night in uptown Manhattan. 

For a long time, I refused to drink more than once in heavy social settings after what happened when I was seventeen. But this? I didn’t care anymore. I needed whatever would keep him and my parents and the team out of my head. 

The problem I was running into, however, was that by the time I was cross-faded in a mass of bodies in a bar uptown, he was the only thing I had the ability to think about. 

Everything I wouldn’t confront during the day when I was sober chased me down until I was curled up in the corner of a bathroom stall. 

The smell of weed clouded my senses as the cold tile floor hit the backs of my thighs. The vodka still on my tongue made me dizzy and I could feel my heart beating like a drum in my head.

Every memory axed its way into my head like a migraine I couldn’t shake. I could spend every night like this, I could dance with strangers I didn’t care about, I could swear off men to my best friend and demand that I was completely fine, but I would always end up like this. Thinking about how I could still feel the pressure of his lips on my skin and if I tried hard enough, the temperature of the bathroom tiles almost felt like that of his arm under my fingers whenever we were curled up together. 

I couldn’t keep a straight thought. It all flashed through my head in images I couldn’t shake. 

My phone was vibrating. 

I fumbled for it, where it was tucked into the front of my dress, and I didn’t even check who was calling when I  tapped the screen and held it to my ear. I sniffled, wiping my nose. My cheeks were wet. 

I was crying. That seemed to be pretty normal for me these days. 

“Hello?” 

I blinked. Great, now I was hallucinating voices. I’d never reached that point of being wasted. “Nat,” I said, rubbing my eyes. I probably just ruined my makeup already. “What’s up?” I did my best to sound sober. Probably didn’t work.

There was a heavy sigh. “You didn’t mean to call me,” he said. 

“You called me,” I replied. 

“No, I did not. Are you… Are you okay?” 

“I am fine,” I said. “I’m not… supposed to talk to you.” “I know, angel.” Another sigh, a shuffle of something. Maybe blankets. It couldn’t have been that late. 

“Are you sleeping?”

“It’s almost four in the morning.”

My head was pounding, swimming… I couldn’t quite breathe right. “You don’t really sleep…”

“No, I don’t. Less now. Where are you?” 

“Why?” I felt defensive all of a sudden. No matter the fact I didn’t think I could get up off this floor if the building was on fire. 

“Because you’re drunk, sweetheart. And you’re alone. It’s not safe.”

“You don’t know that I’m- if I’m alone.”

A brief pause. “Yes, I do. Do you know where you are?” 

I was picking at a loose thread on the hem of my dress. “I’m…” I squeezed my eyes shut. That string wrapped around my finger twice. “I’m in the bathroom.”

“Okay, hold on—” I heard a door shut. It was quiet for a second. “I know where you are. You stay in the bathroom, okay? I’ll come get you.”

“But you—”

“No, you stay where you are.” I shrank a little. “Hear me?” 

“Yeah…” “Good. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

I think I fell asleep after that, because the next thing I remember was hearing a commotion of voices— only one of which I recognized. 

Then it got so bright as the stall door was pushed open and I swear it felt like my heart that had dropped dead almost a month ago was beating again. 

Bucky’s face was a mix of emotions as he touched my cheek. “Sweetheart…” He said, letting out a breath. 

“Why are you here?” I asked, blinking a few times to try and see clearly. If he was here, I wanted to feel it, see it. All of it. 

“I’m here for you, doll.”

“But you hate me.”

He looked at me like I was crazy. “No, I don’t, baby. I don’t hate you. But we need to get you home, come on.”

Without waiting for me to say anything, he lifted me to my feet. “Where are your shoes?” he asked. I just shrugged. 

As I limped my way to the bathroom exit, one of the other girls stopped him, demanding that he either explain how he knew me, or set me down. If I was sober, I might have hugged her for that. “He’s…” I started. 

She cast a worried glance from me, to the man holding me up. Bucky sighed and pulled out his phone, showing her the screen. “She’s mine, promise.” I barely caught a glimpse of the wallpaper. It was a picture Avery had taken of us when we were in Atlanta, we were in the kitchen, not even aware she was watching. 

Once we were past the crowds, he shoved the door open and helped me outside. The chilly air shocked me a little back into my senses, but not much. 

He pulled the car door open and helped me into the passenger seat before rounding the hood and climbing in. “I feel like lecturing you on how dangerous this is might be pointless because I don’t think you’re gonna remember any of it.”

I sniffled, wiping my cheeks. “I thought I was… fine.” “I’m sure you did,” he said, pulling onto the street. “Avery would have a heart attack if she knew about this, you know?” 

“Yeah… It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” he sighed, shoving a hand through his hair. “This isn’t like you.”

“Sure it is,” I replied as I looked out the window. “It’s in my genes.” Bucky glanced at me, but didn’t say anything. When we pulled up outside my apartment building, I paused. “How do you—”

“I had a feeling something like this would happen. I got it from Nat.” 

“She gave it to you?” 

“I had to ask. Beg, actually.”

“That isn’t like you,” I said, quoting his own words. He cast me that same look he always gave me when I said something annoying, but valid. I smiled a little, tipping my head against the headrest of the car as I watched him climb out. 

When he got to my side and pulled the door open, he didn’t give me an option. Next thing I knew, he was scooping me into his arms and I didn’t have it in me to fight. I leaned closer, letting my body relax for the first time in weeks. I could scold myself for this in the morning. 

“What’s the door code?” he asked me. 

“My birthday,” I replied in more of a mumble than anything. “It’s—”

“I know your birthday, angel.” 

I sighed and nodded as we stepped into the warmth of the lobby. I didn’t question him as he held me the whole way to my apartment, his fingers occasionally brushing against my body as if it was muscle memory. 

He pressed the same code into my door keypad and shoved the door open. 

“Don’t let the cat out,” I muttered. 

“The what— Oh my god.” I heard my little white kitten meow up at him. “That’s Snowball,” I said. “Or Alpine. I can’t choose.”

He sighed, a small smile on his face. “I like Alpine.”

Bucky carried me to the master bedroom and set me on the bed. I rubbed my eyes, the ache behind them starting to grow. He disappeared for a second and when he came back, he put a glass of water in my hand. “Drink this,” he said, setting my shoes in my closet. I wondered briefly where he found them before he returned from the closet with the Avengers Compound sweatshirt that used to be his, but I had reclaimed. “You can’t sleep in that dress,” he said. “Or that makeup.” 

“I’ll be fine—” I started. 

“No. You’re gonna change. I’ll give you a—”

“I can’t get the zipper myself,” I said quietly. “It’s not- It’s not a ploy… Promise.” 

He helped me to my feet and turned me around before tugging at the zipper. I felt the air hit my back a second before his hand landed at my waist. “Are you gonna remember anything from tonight?” 

“I hope so,” I said softly. Other words for definitely not. 

Bucky sighed and dropped his head to my shoulder. “I miss you,” he breathed, lips brushing against my skin. “More than I’ve ever missed anyone.” 

A pain lodged itself in my chest. It was so deep that in this moment I genuinely didn’t think it’d ever leave me. And if it did, it might just leave a hole where it sat. “Bucky…” 

“Get changed. I’ll be right back.”

When I felt his body heat disappear from me, I dropped my dress to the ground and tugged on the sweatshirt he’d set on the bed. I didn’t bother with shorts, just left my underwear on. 

I dropped onto the edge of the bed, finished my water, held my hands in my lap. 

Bucky came from the bathroom and clicked on the lamp beside my bed. He took my face in his hand and with the warm rag in his hand, wiped it gently along my face. “Close your eyes,” he said softly. 

I did as I was told. It wasn’t as in depth as I could’ve myself, but it was enough to keep my eyes from hurting in the morning.

He tossed the rag in the hamper and guided me into bed. “You need to sleep,” he said softly. 

“I’m not used to sleeping alone,” I mumbled against my pillow. 

“I know, sweetheart,” he replied, fingers combing through my hair. “Me either. But you’re gonna be okay.” 

I felt exhaustion coming for me like a thief in the night. “You think so?” 

“I know so. Sleep, baby.” 

A breath escaped me. I didn’t have the energy to speak anymore.

As sleep pulled me away, I felt his kiss against my head. Then the light clicked off and it was gone like a dream. 

[m1rotics]

I heard you want hard thots about Ateez so here's mine:

Making sub!Hongjoong fuck your high heel.

👀👀👀

Heel humper

hongjoong x fem!reader

this took me an unreasonably long amount of time to write and for that I am sorry. for the longest I was drawing blanks about how to start it, but it's done now!! this is also very self-indulgent and heavily influenced by my own kinks.

he'd be so pent up, just a big ball of pure want and desire. a need to please and be pleased thrumming throughout his body, lounging beneath his skin. you can see it in the way he drops to his knees, looking at you with wet eyes, his hands running up and down your legs.

there's reverence in the way he rests his forehead on your knees, his breath shaky and uneven. he shudders when your hand threads through his hair, and in the softest voice, he whispers, "touch me— please, I need you."

when you don't respond he lifts his head, pouting almost, "please, I've been good. been such a good boy for you, so touch me."

his rant devolves into prayer, please’s falling off his tongue like air. desperation sticks to his skin like sweat, glimmers in the wetness of his eyes. his nails dig into your knees, crescent moons engraved into your skin– you don't even think he realizes how hard he's gripping you.

"fuck my heel.”

your command cuts through his begging like a hot knife, he pauses, “but-”

“you want me to touch you, don't you? fuck my heel and I'll think about it.”

he sucks his lips between his teeth, holds it there, thinks for a few seconds. his eyes scanning your face for any mercy, any bit of pity he could latch on to. you press your foot into his bulge, and he gasps. pink lips pulled into a small circle. the sound light and fleeting. his hips start working before he can truly think about it. they work at an animal pace, carnal. his chin resting on your knee, arms wrapped around your calf.

he looks feral, hair strung around– sticking to his sweaty forehead, his temples, and the back of his neck. teeth sinking into his bottom lip, which is bitten pink. his hold keeps your foot pressed taut against his bulge, and it throbs. blood pulsing through him and straight to his cock. pre-cum stains his boxers, leaks into his dress pants.

the friction hurts. it hurts so badly, it starts to feel good. his eyelids flutter, vision shifting between clear and misty, to misty and clear. your figure dancing between a silhouette, but sometimes he catches details like how you dress hugs your figure, the rise and fall of your chest, how dark you eyes are peering down at him. they look through him, straight through like an arrow to the heart, a punch to the stomach. your red lips pulled into a frown. your lipstick smeared a little from his kisses, and he's sure some stuck to his lips, too. the thought sends a wave of pleasure through him. he groans.

“this is all you need, hm? you can cum from humping my foot like a dog.” you hiss, and the words spear into him, sends a shiver down his spine.

his hips stutter, a whine spills out of him. his face scrunches up, pained, “what? no– please, I wan– I need you.”

you heel digs in deeper, yanking more pathetic noises out of him. “is that so? well, earn it. cum like this, and I might touch you.”

he nods, affirmative. he can do that. that's the easiest task he's been given all day. his hips speed up, and he presses himself harder into your foot, and it hurts. god, it hurts, but he needs it. he needs the pain to push him to the edge, and in his haze, he whines out, “hurt me, miss, need it to cum. need it to be good for you.”

“what did you say, baby?” you voice is saccharin; overly sweet, melt-on-your-tongue like chocolate. your nails scrap along his scalp as you grip his hair, and it stings, enough to make him wince, whining at your rough grip. his cock twitches, but it's not enough.

“more,” he gasps out, pink-faced and dizzy, “I need you to hurt me more.”

when he sees your hand lift, he tries not to tense because he knows what's next. instead, he focuses on how the movement causes your perfume to waft into his nose. sweet, comforting, pleasant. but that doesn't make it less unexpected– the impact, he means. he hears it before he feels it. the loud crack of your palm meeting his cheek. but welcomes it nonetheless, his hips stutter and his cock jumps in his pants. his cheek aches, tingles, blood rushing to the area. a half whine-half groan tumbles out of him.

“god, you're disgusting.” you spit, but there's a layer of marvel, of lust beneath the venom, “getting off on me hurting you. you're such a slut.”

he whimpers, “another– ah, please.”

this time it's your knuckles that make contact with his cheek, and he thinks you hit him harder because his head feels funny. his teeth all rattled, a dull ringing in his ears. eyes glazed over. but it's this one that does the job, he scrambles to hold you tighter, fingers gripping your legs for dear life. a choked sob escaping him, “ma’am, I'm– fuck, fuck, fuck– gonna cum.”

you coo, “cum for me.”

he does with a drawn out sob, a single tear rolls down his cheek. his thoughts are scatter-shot. barely there, floating up, up, up and away. his mind blanks. through misty vision, he sees you, smiling that soft smile that's completely unbefitting of the blissful agony you're causing him, but it cradles him. he's making a mess. his pants are ruined, but he doesn't care. can't bring himself to think to hard about anything. he slumps, planting wet open-mouthed kisses to your legs, or any skin he can reach. babbling praises through the aftershock of his orgasm. you're so perfect, this is perfect. this is all he could ever ask for, and he tells you that. over and over. you pet his hair as he continues rutting against your foot, dragging out his climax.

[queervegancryptid]

Joker and I agree on one thing, I guess.

Following you and a couple other people on here has made it clear that I really need to read more comics. As a kid, I was raised in a rural area by conservative parents. Not outright abusive, mostly, but definitely not people I could be myself around, and basically anytime I was enthusiastic about something, people gave me shit for it. So if childhood was an exercise in learning to hide in plain sight in order to survive, adulthood for me has been a journey of letting myself be myself and explore stuff I wasn't allowed to explore as a kid.

It's also been a journey of realizing how much the adults in my life fully failed me as a kid. I only really understood how much their shit affected me when I first really felt loved and accepted by someone, without having to hide, and that didn't happen until I was past 30. Now that I'm able to start making moves to sort my shit out, the Orange Menace is being sworn in, so there are about to be more forces than ever invested in keeping me miserable and beaten down.

So in a very real sense, I'm scared about what's happening politically. I'm angry, too, for obvious reasons, many of which are not personal to me. I don't have to be an undocumented immigrant to think they should be treated with basic human decency, for example. I don't have to be Jewish to be horrified by people chanting shit about them. I don't have to be a target at all to give a fuck, but I'm trans, so I have the distinction of being labeled a problem and the knowledge that I'm in one of the last groups that will be defended when shit hits the fan.

But I am angry and frankly annoyed for personal reasons. And one of those reasons is that I spent my life hiding and trying to be acceptable, and when it didn't work, I thought it was my fault. I'm not perfect, but I feel like the deck was stacked against me from the start, and making it my fault was just one big scam to keep me complacent. I'm annoyed that it fucking worked so well and for so long.

The annoyance also comes from the fact that these people are living rent-free in my head and controlling so much of my life. But that's part of how they make you feel helpless, you know? You focus on all the weight they're throwing around, and you get overwhelmed by the brutality and cruelty of it all, and you feel so exhausted that you start to wonder what the hell the point even is of talking about it.

But that's what they want. I've survived out of spite before, and I'll do it again. The last thing they want is for people like you and me to enjoy anything in life and find reasons to keep going, which is exactly why you have to keep finding reasons wherever you can, in whatever form they take. So I'm going to enjoy what I enjoy and explore what I want to explore, because finding some kind of joy and good in the world when and where I can is the only way I'm going to survive all the things that are coming.

Thank you for existing, by the way. Sorry I wrote a book on here. I'm going through some stuff, as you might have guessed lol

🚨WATCH: Donald Trump and JD Vance mockingly laugh at the National Prayer Service when the National Cathedral Bishop proclaims "let us pray for the most vulnerable."

These monsters are the antethesis of what Jesus preached.

[vodika-vibes]

Sugarpop

Summary: Loving Cody is easy. It is too easy, for all that he doesn’t and will never feel the same way. But, maybe you can turn your attention to someone who’s been waiting for you to see him.

Pairing: One-sided Cody x F!Reader, Pre Bly x Reader

Word Count: 1500

Warnings: Reader gets kidnapped and starved.

A/N: It was just too cold to write this morning, lol. But I've warmed up since then and I love Bly, so here it is.

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

From the day you met him, you’ve loved Cody.

You love his smile, his quiet jokes, and how you feel safe when you’re with him. You love the way his eyes crinkle when he’s genuinely happy, and the way his nose scrunches when he’s disgusted.

And he’ll never feel the same way.

Oh, you don’t doubt that he’s fond of you. He’s always happy to see you, and he enjoys how you’re happy to cook for him and his brothers, though he teases you about using them as taste testers, rather than cooking for them because you want to do something nice.

He’s protective of you, and your time, and you know he’ll never allow anyone to take advantage of you, or harm you, so long as he’s around.

But he doesn’t love you.

And it’s fine.

Really.

He doesn’t have to love you. You aren’t entitled to his love just because you loved him first. You’re happy having his affection and his friendship. You are.

Sure, some nights you lay in bed and fantasize about what-if. 

What if he did love you? What if he looked at you like you look at him? What if, when you’re with him, his stomach flips and his heart clenches? What if he lays in bed and thinks about you?

Most nights, however, those thoughts turn into tears.

But, no one knows about it. The only one who knows your silent grief is your comforter, and it doesn’t tell stories.

And so, you go on day by day. Greeting Cody with bright smiles and light jokes, and when he shows up with a girlfriend, you greet her politely and make sure that she doesn’t have any food allergies, and you treat her like a friend.

Sure, maybe she doesn’t last longer than a month or, in one situation, an evening, but you’re still kind and polite.

It’s ironic, you’ve actually managed to make some friends with his exes. 

And you know Cody appreciates it. He told you, once, that he was glad that you were so welcoming to the people around you, and then he continued by telling you that you’re too nice for your own good.

You can’t help how you are as a person, and so you wave off his concerns when he brings it up. It doesn’t matter, in the long run, because he has all of his brothers looking out for you.

So, you suppose, if you want to be accurate, you have to admit that he does love you. But he loves you like a friend loves a friend, not like how a man loves a woman.

At least he’s still in your life, even if it’s not how you want. You just have to take what you can get.

But, all the same, when you’re kidnapped several months later due to your friendship with several Marshal Commanders, you know that no one will come for you.

All you can do is keep your mouth shut and pretend that you don’t know what your kidnapper is asking. You can’t do much, but you can protect them at least a little.

You’re not sure how long it’s been. There’s no way to tell what time of day it is here in the cell that has been your room since you were snatched from your apartment. 

It must have been at least a month. At this point someone must have noticed that you went missing, right?

It’s not like your kidnapper was subtle about snatching you, seeing as they kicked open the door and destroyed your apartment in the process of kidnapping you.

Of course, who would they send to save you? The Guard? The Police?

No one?

The idea of dying in a tiny cell so far from home, so far from the people you love most, makes you want to cry. But you stop yourself before you can start. You only get a single cup of water a day.

You can’t afford to waste it.

Just as you wrap your thin blanket around you, and are considering moving to the other side of the thin cot that has been your bed for who even knows how long, you think you hear the sound of blaster fire.

Your gaze flickers towards the door of your cell as the sound gets louder and louder.

And then, you hear a voice. Familiar in the way that all clone voices are familiar.

“Here! I found it!” You hear some scuffling from outside the door, and then what you assume is a curse in Mando’a. Then, finally, the door slides open and stays open.

The man on the other side of the door is wearing white armor with yellow markings. Familiar yellow markings.

“...Bly?”

“You’re a hard lady to find, Sugarpop.” You scrunch up your nose at the nickname. Yeah. It’s Bly. He’s the only person in the galaxy who calls you Sugarpop.

“It’s not like I did it intentionally.”

“I know.” He steps into the cell and with surprisingly gentle hands, he coaxes you to your feet, “How are you? Are you hurt anywhere?”

“...I’m hungry. And cold.”

“I bet you are. No shoes?”

“They took them so I couldn’t run away.”

“Fuckers. We should have killed them slower.”

He really shouldn’t sound so cheerful when saying that. But it doesn’t actually bother you.

“Bly?”

“Yeah, Sugarpop?”

“Can I go home now?”

He stills and then a slightly strangled laugh fall from him, “Well, you see…”

“Bly?”

“We’re not on Coruscant.” He says hurriedly, “We’re actually in the outer rim. You’ve been a guest of the Hutt Cartel for the better part of 6 months.”

You stare at him, “Six…?”

“Yeah, Sugarpop. Six.”

“...my job…my apartment?”

“Ah, well…the Jedi did what they could, but both your boss and your landlord decided that you were dead three months in and you lost both.”

“Oh.”

“But, it’ll work out!” Bly sets his hands on your shoulders, and you can almost see his brow furrow through his visor, “You’ve lost weight. A lot of weight.”

“Well…well…I probably needed to anyway…” You offer, feeling slightly numb.

“Bullshit, you were perfect.”

You blink at him again, “Thank you?”

“We’ll get you healthy again, and you can help out in the kitchen.” Bly offers cheerfully as he guides you out of the cell and lifts you over a pile of broken droids, “It’ll be great.”

“There are a lot of droids here,” You mumble, more to yourself, as you nudge something away with your foot.

“Yeah, looks like the Hutts are working with the Seppies.” Bly glances at you, “You know what, Sugarpop? I think I’m just going to carry you.”

“You don’t have to—”

He scoffs as he scoops you into his arms, “Have to? Please. I’d pay for the honor.”

You stare at him, even as you slide your arms around his neck so you feel more secure, “Bly?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you flirting with me? While rescuing me?”

He glances at you, “Yeah. I am.” Bly glances away, “Cody’s a blind idiot if he can’t see how you look at him.”

Your face burns, “I wasn’t trying to be transparent…”

“You weren’t Sugarpop. I just watch you a lot.” Lightly, he bumps his helmet against your forehead, “Just waiting for the day you look at me like that.”

Bly steps over a pile of something that was probably a person at one point, and you drop your head to his shoulder. As he walks, you go back through all of the conversations you remember having with Bly, and slowly you come to a realization.

“Bly, have you been flirting with me since we met?”

He laughs, “You’re just now noticing? Oh, Sugarpop, we need to give you lessons on being more observant.”

You huff and nudge him gently, “Don’t be mean. Humans are notoriously bad at detecting flirting.”

“Yeah, well…” He pauses for a moment to kick a door open, “Cody’s an idiot and I’m right here if you want to turn those pretty eyes on me.”

“Just like that?”

“Hey, I’m a patient guy. And it’s a long flight back to Coruscant.” He carefully sets you back on your feet and he lifts his helmet to rest on top of his head, “I think you’ll find that I’m a pretty charming guy.”

It’s at that very moment that you notice that his grin is slightly lopsided and that his eyes are a few shades lighter than Cody’s. And it almost feels like a betrayal when your stomach flips nervously.

“Is that your opinion?” You ask as you ignore the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

His grin widens, “Nope, lots of people have that opinion.” Something in his gaze softens, and his fingers brush your cheek, “I’m glad you’re not hurt, Sugarpop.”

A tiny smile lifts your lips, “Thank you for coming to get me, Bly.”

There’s a serious glimmer in his gaze as he takes your hand and brushes his thumb across your knuckles, “Always.”

@heidnspeak

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[starglitterz]

♡ YOU KNOW YOU LOVE ME!

what was meant to be a simple heist goes awry when you're interrupted by a shockingly cute security guard & a couple of rival art thieves. did you mention that one of them is kind of your ex?

✧ feat ; ayato, childe, diluc, scaramouche x gn!reader (3.6k words)

✧ warnings ; highly suggestive, thief + cop au, robbery, weapons, reader is a tease, one (1) ginger insult, reader loves bullying men (as they should)

✧ a/n ; be gay do crime that's all i have to say! jk HJSDSJD this has been rotting in my drafts for almost THREE years. i reread it and the writing style was so unserious that i suddenly got motivated to continue it and then i finished it in a night. Yeah. anyways this is my #grandcomeback and also first post of 2025! i really hope you all enjoy this :> if it flops i will cry myself to sleep /j btw this was proofread by the loml @musings-of-miss-j who has a SUPERB harbingers series that u should totally check out 🙂‍↕️😋

please reblog with comments ! it helps a lot :)

"hey! you there!" a baritone voice behind you yells, shattering the midnight peace of the museum and jolting you out of your reverie. tightening your grip around the gleaming purple gnosis you came here for, you slip it into your pocket quickly before turning around with a smile that would assure anybody of your innocence. "who? little old me?" you bat your eyes, blinking slowly at the man. your eyes have long adjusted to the darkness, so even with his similarly coloured outfit you're able to pick out the faded gold badge at his chest reading 'diluc'. "what are you doing back here?" his tone doesn't change in the slightest as he flicks his flashlight over to you, the beam practically blinding against the dark surroundings. 

"it appears that i've gotten lost," you laugh awkwardly, doing your best to feign being a naive tourist, "i was told that there were late tours offered at the teyvat museum." diluc still looks exceedingly suspicious, and as his gaze travels behind you your mind snaps into overdrive so he doesn't notice the missing artifact. suddenly bursting into tears, you run forward and bury your face in his shirt, "i! was! so! scared!" you punctuate each word with an even louder wail and he freezes beneath you, the close contact entirely unexpected. "there, there…" he pats your back with the enthusiasm and warmth of a polar ice cap, and with your face hidden in the fabric you permit yourself a triumphant smile - you've managed to divert his attention for now, at least.

"i am so terribly sorry about this," you begin to apologise profusely before looking up at him with teary eyes, "but would you mind walking me to the exit? i'm afraid i'll get lost again." at his hesitant expression you sniffle loudly, exaggerating it as much as possible until he caves, "fine. but stay close, there's been rumours floating around about artifact thieves lately." when he starts marching away, you hurry to catch up and ask curiously as if you aren't one of them, "artifact thieves?!" "yes. the type to steal priceless elements of history and sell them on the black market," he spits with disgust in his eyes. "oh, how terrible! i can't understand why anyone would do that instead of leaving them here for the public to enjoy," you gush, "surely there are other ways to make money." 

yeah, you could become an art thief instead. not that you haven't tried that; you just found it too tedious to craft a believable enough fake and ensure the painting wasn't damaged while sneaking it out. diluc doesn't deign to reply besides a single nod of his head, and you try to start up another conversation, "i suppose you're not the type to befriend random visitors, huh?" the corner of his lips tug up into a barely perceptible smile, "only the ones who appear after closing hours." "can't you make an exception for me?" you wink, though you doubt he can even see it through the darkness blanketing the museum. "hmph," is the only answer you receive, and your chit-chat ends with a dramatic sigh from your end.

to be frank, you couldn't care less whether this ‘diluc’ likes you or not. it's just in your best interests for him to remember you as some flirty ditz who'd leave their head at home if it wasn't screwed on and not a calculating, manipulative burglar. this heist is one to remember for sure though, you don't think you've ever escaped with the goods in your pocket while talking to the security guard on duty. you've knocked them out beforehand and slept with them after, but never during the job, so tonight marks a first for you. 

through your eyelashes, you glance at diluc, absorbing every detail about him in a split second; it's a trick you've learned from years of living on the street where figuring out who's going to hurt you and who won't is crucial for survival. he's pretty enough that you wouldn't mind spending the night with him, with fiery red locks tied neatly into a high ponytail and crimson eyes which sparkle like rubies. perhaps you could make this a double heist and steal his heart too!

your train of thought is interrupted as diluc comes to a halt without warning and you bump into his back (which you note is surprisingly toned). "what-" you start to complain, but he holds a hand up which silences you immediately. "i heard something," he whispers, practically inaudible, and you instantly start to babble, "what?! are they artifact thieves?! are we going to die?!" diluc groans before grabbing you and hiding behind a wall, pulling you flush against his torso as one of his gloved hands covers your mouth, "shut up." 

now this is close contact; you can feel the quick rise and fall of his chest, his racing heartbeat, and his every muscle tensing in preparation for a fight. if you weren't so preoccupied with the fact that this is delaying your getaway, you'd probably make a stupid quip. actually scratch that, you're going to do it anyway, "at least take me on a date first," you mumble as you shrug away his hand, and he looks at you with the most disbelieving expression, "you can still make idiotic comments in a situation like this? you've either got nerves of steel or you're a total dumbass." "depends on your type," you smile, and he drags a palm down his face exasperatedly, "i- you know what, never mind."

"ow!" "shut the fuck up, idiot. it's bad enough that i had to get paired with you, but if you get us caught i'm going to kill you." "rude. you could just ask nicely." "i have no interest in talking to you." "yet here we are." "can you seriously keep quiet? i'm telling the tsaritsa never to put me in a team with you again." "aw, stop, you'll hurt my feelings." "do you even have any of those left?" "hey! i'll have you know i am a very emotional person." "that's like me saying i'm an upstanding member of society."

you freeze in diluc's arms, running through every curse word in every language you know in your mind. you'd recognise those two voices anywhere. out of all the nights the fatui could have been planning a robbery, it had to be tonight?! archons, your luck is awful. "okay, this has been fun and all, but i've got to go," you start wriggling out of his embrace, planning to smash a window and escape because you'd honestly risk getting caught by the cops instead of the fatui. "what?! are you insane?! there are obviously two robbers there," diluc whisper-shouts, brows furrowing in a peculiar mix of confusion and worry. "and i'd prefer not to die, so i'm going to leave before they come here!" you retort, continuing to slide out of his arms. however, he doesn't relax his grip and you roll your eyes before elbowing him in the stomach. the sudden attack surprises him and he lets go with a groan, which is more than enough time for you to make a break for it.

unfortunately, diluc delayed you long enough that you end up running right into the two fatui members' line of vision. "wait, who are you?!" one of them asks, and the other one continues, "turn around, or i'll shoot you right now." fuck, is all you can think as you slowly rotate to face them with a sheepish smile, perhaps they wouldn't recognise you. "hey, aren't you y/n?!" well, there goes that plan. "no…? who's that?" "nah, you definitely are," the ginger walks towards you slowly before tilting your chin up to face him with his index finger. the game's up, so you sigh, "hey, childe... it's been a while." 

"i knew it was you! i'd know that pretty face of yours anywhere," he beams gleefully, and you smirk, "you still find me pretty? never knew you had a thing for criminals." "i do, it's my fatal flaw," he frowns before continuing, "except when they steal my money, in which case they become my enemies instead." double fuck. he still remembers that. "it wasn't that much! just about ten million mora or so, i know you've got tons left where that came from," you hurry to defend yourself. "that's not the point! the point is that you stole my money after i oh-so-kindly let you stay in my house!" childe says, and you're not taking this one lying down, "liar! you invited me over after you saw me at the bar!"

"can you both shut up? i'm losing braincells just listening to this shit," scaramouche cuts in, rolling his eyes so far back you swear they're going to get stuck that way. "really? because when you opened your mouth i think my iq just dropped by 10 points," you retort. scaramouche gapes at you for a second, clearly not used to someone talking back to him. "take a picture, it'll last longer," you wink, feeling the situation slide itself back into your grasp once more; you aren't planning on going down without a fight. "i don't have a kamera, and anyway who wants photos of dead people?" he fumbles for a reply and childe snickers, "cat got your tongue, scara?" "more like y/n's got your wallet," the balladeer jabs back, a smug grin curving his lips at the witty reply. childe's eyes widen at the insult, "hey! i'll have you know that i gave it to them willingly-"

taking advantage of the argument between the two of them, you unhook a rope from your waist and toss it up to the skylight. you're in the common center area of the museum, which has a square gap up to the roof and offers you a perfect shot for your hook to sail upwards and catch at the ledge. the instant you press a button the cord retracts, pulling you up with it. "and now y/n's getting away! so long, suckers!" you cheer as you zip upwards. "isn't that my line?!" you hear scaramouche yell as they scramble to find a way after you. seconds before you slam into the window like an unfortunate bug, you pull out a gun and shoot the glass, watching with glee as a spiderweb of cracks forms across it. thanks to the momentum of you gliding through the air, your boots easily smash through it when you kick harshly as you reach it, and you land with a loud thud on the roof. "ouch," you groan, "that's going to leave a bruise tomorrow." glancing at your surroundings, you inhale the fresh night air stained with the smog from all the polluting factories and listen to the buzz of the highways, busy even past midnight, "nothing like the city."

just then, you hear a thump behind you, and then a deep voice that sounds strangely familiar, "you'll be admiring it from a prison window after this." you spin around sharply, and the sight nearly makes you fall off the edge of the building with surprise, "diluc?!" at this, he freezes, and it's evident that he thought his disguise would be more than enough to conceal his identity. with a cough, he says, "no, i'm the darknight hero." "no, you're clearly diluc. i just met you like fifteen minutes ago and even i can recognise your hair in that stupid suit, it practically glows," you fold your arms over your chest, making idle conversation while your mind races to come up with an idea to save yourself. "my suit isn't stupid," diluc can't stop himself from defending his outfit, just because he had barely any sewing skills did not give you the right to insult the piece of clothing. "it's literally a mask and a black coat." 

"back to the matter at hand," diluc- sorry, the darknight hero, clears his throat loudly, clearly eager to change the topic, "you're under arrest." "oh yeah? since when are you a cop?" "i'm not." "then you obviously don't have the power to arrest me, idiot." smarting from yet another insult, diluc tries his best to maintain his composure, "i meant that i'm going to take you in to the police station and then you'll be under arrest." "should have just said that," you shrug, and you can almost see diluc fighting to rein his temper in - this is too easy.

"okay, well, this actually hasn't been fun at all, so i'm leaving," you turn around again and stroll away, hoping that there'll be a ladder on the edge of the roof. you don't really see a diluc as a threat, because to be honest he seems more like a kid playing dress-up. what kind of self-respecting adult who cared as much for the law as he did would choose to be a vigilante? maybe if he got a better costume you could take him seriously. and that turned out to be a huge mistake on your part, because the next moment, a lasso whizzes through the air and loops around your ankles, quickly pulling into a deadknot that would take you ages to untie. 

you want to throw a tantrum, crying and stomping your feet at diluc, but what good would that do when this issue sprung from your own cockiness? "listen, how much do you want? i'll give it to you, any amount. i know how much security guards make, and trust me, it'll be nothing compared to what i could give you," the words spill out of your mouth in a jumble, and you seem to take on the role of a confident salesman selling a product you know is worthless. it's embarrassing how much this sounds like a plea. "i don't want money. i want the streets and artifacts of teyvat to be safe from people like you," diluc ignores your further attempts at bribing him, although he does give you a strange look when you offer up a kiss, as if he's genuinely considering it. does this man actually get no bitches?

“ah, a kiss, hm? is that what you want?” you lean forward almost desperately, grinning at him like a maniac, “c’mon, mr darknight hero! i promise i’m a really good kisser~” you lick your lips as if to prove your point, and your smirk deepens when his ruby gaze follows the motion. “just give me a second to touch up my lipstick, ‘kay?” while he’s still stunned from your offer, you fumble in your pocket and pull out a taser. diluc only snaps back into action when he sees the weapon clutched in your hands, and though he dodges, you manage to stumble forward without your bound ankles and ram the buzzing probes into his chest. 

a strange noise, a mixture of a whimper and a groan escapes his throat as he falls to his knees in front of you, body twitching like a dying bug. rummaging in his pockets, you find a knife and giggle as you slice through the ties on your legs, “see? this is why it’s always great to have men on their knees for you. i forgot my knife today, so i hope you’ll be okay with me borrowing this.” as he glares at you through blurry vision, a mockingly pitiful smile curves your lips and you pat his head like you’re petting an overzealous guard dog, “now be a good boy and stay here, okay, diluc? ah, sorry, i mean mr darknight hero!” dipping your head, you press a fleeting kiss to his cheek, relishing in his flustered gasp, “i’ll give you a proper kiss next time~” you burst into laughter and skip off, leaving him tied up and blushing with the same restraints he had used on you. 

“why is this stupid place so big?!” you mutter to yourself as you whiz across the rooftop. the museum is under renovation, so a lot of the walls of the rear wing are covered in scaffolding and tarp that only serve to slow you down as you try to escape. you’re seriously regretting being a cheapskate earlier and not parking at the official parking lot, instead you had hid your getaway car almost a kilometre away from the location just to avoid a parking fee. don’t judge! things like this are how rich people stay rich. but just as you’re skidding across the glass-roofed observatory, you hear a familiar voice behind you. 

“not so fast, thief.”

you groan as exaggeratedly as you can, making a big show of how troublesome it is for you to turn around, “hello again, childe. hat guy.” “my name is scaramouche!” he seethes, scowling at you with a glare furious enough to thaw antarctica. “listen, y/n,” childe steps forward, raising both hands in magnanimous surrender, “let’s make a deal.” “not interested.” you stick your tongue out, slowly backing away. childe continues as if he didn’t hear you, but the twitch in his brow is enough to give away his act, “you give us the gnosis, and i’ll forget all about the money you owe me.” “i don’t owe you, genius,” you scoff, “i stole it. i’m obviously not going to repay it.” “you really are an idiot,” scaramouche massages his temples, looking for all the world like he’d rather be anywhere else on earth than here at this moment.

“well!” childe puffs himself up, pretending that his ego isn’t hurt, “i thought you and i had chemistry, y’know? we could hang out again if you just give me the gnosis.” his voice drops an octave lower to emphasise his last few words, and you feel a familiar shiver up your spine. “childe, we slept together once, and sleeping with a ginger was not one of my proudest moments,” you retort, though you feel a twinge of guilt as childe fusses with his hair, “hey! uncalled for!” to be honest, he’s not wrong. the two of you did have chemistry, and the night you spent together was… well, let’s just say you could barely walk the next day. but dating isn’t your style, especially not when it’s someone who belongs to a rival group in the world of art theft. you  prefer one night stands – it’s easier to keep things simple with no strings attached. 

“just give us the gnosis, and we won’t kill you. is that a better deal?” scaramouche interrupts, evidently tired of childe beating around the bush. “scara! i was this close to getting them to crack!” childe pouts, and scaramouche rolls his eyes heavenward – if there was ever a time for him to believe in the gods, it would be now as he prays for mercy from his partner’s stupidity. “you’re cracked in the head if you think so,” scaramouche drags a palm down his face and sighs, “you only think with your dick.” “what?!” childe’s aghast at this accusation, “that’s not true!” “i think it is.” you helpfully supply, and that draws both men’s attention back to you.

“whatever! just hand us the gnosis, and things won’t get messy.” childe withdraws his blades, and you realise he’s finally getting serious. scaramouche steps closer as well, and you can’t move backwards anymore, you’re already teetering on the ledge. a fall from this height definitely wouldn’t leave you in the best condition. it’s too early for you to die, you haven’t even seen your favourite artist live yet! “fine. you want it?” you pull the gnosis out from your pocket and a wicked smirk graces your features, “then come and get it~!” you toss the item up in the air, letting the way it sparkles in the moonlight speak for itself as you lean backwards and salute, “see you on the other side, losers!” 

with that, you fall off the roof while scaramouche and childe fumble to catch the gnosis.

“hey! that dumbass!” childe rushes to the edge to check on you, only to realise that… you aren’t there?! contrary to what he expected, your bloody corpse isn’t lying there. you’re climbing down the scaffolding like a monkey, weaving in and out of the metal bars until you reach the ground. looking back up at him, childe thinks he can make out a final playful wink before you hop into a black car that’s just pulled up at the back. behind him, scaramouche yells, “childe!” “what is it now, balladeer- what?!” the gnosis is shattered on the stone roof, shards of purple and silver gleaming in a manner that almost seems taunting. “it was a fucking fake!” scaramouche yells, kicking the broken pieces furiously, and childe can’t stop the lovestruck expression that plays across his face, “y/n really is a master thief…” “snap out of it, idiot! what are we going to tell the boss?!”

meanwhile, you’re in the passenger seat of an inconspicuous black car, chuckling to yourself as you toy with the real gnosis. “you’re lucky i told you to bring more than one imitation,” a suave voice sounds from the driver’s seat, “and that i was there to save you.” “thank you, oh great master ayato,” you giggle, pretending to bow, “you’re a lifesaver. literally.” he smirks, gloved fingers tapping idly against the steering wheel, “you could have been in and out. you just like playing too much.” “hey!” you whine dramatically, “it’s not my fault the security guard was so cute!” “hmm…” he reaches out and tilts your chin to face his piercing blue eyes, “don’t say stuff like that or i’ll get jealous, you know?” “s-shut up.” you pout, folding your arms across your chest and turning away to look out the window, “just drive, you blue-haired weirdo.” “that’s no way to talk to your boss now, is it?” he laughs goodnaturedly as the two of you speed away, “i just wish i could be there to see the look on captain wriothesley’s face when he realises it was us again.” 

© starglitterz 2025. do not repost or modify in any way – reblog / follow if you enjoyed !

[solxamber]

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSj1MUa7G/

I feel like this is something my Yuu would sing in the Mostro Lounge

Jealous!Yuu with Azul, Trey and Rook plss(seperate and romantic)

the song is so good omg, I've had it in my head since I saw this req. I've also reinterpretated the req a little bit, hope that's okay!

thank you for waiting so long <3

(also reader is pretty assertive in this)

Azul, Trey, Rook x Jealous! Reader

Azul Ashengrotto

The Mostro Lounge was buzzing, as always. Azul, in full business mode, was the perfect mix of charm and professionalism, pulling strings and striking deals with that silver tongue of his. It wasn’t hard to see why people were practically falling for him left and right.

And you? Oh, you were fuming.

It started with that one overly enthusiastic customer, leaning across the counter, giggling at everything Azul said. Then, a group of students practically lined up to thank him for his "kindness" (which you knew was probably tied to some convoluted contract). The final straw? Some guy who straight-up asked Azul if he wanted to "grab coffee sometime," while twirling his hair like he was in a cheesy romance movie.

You slammed down your empty drink and stood up so fast the chair screeched. Enough was enough.

The moment Azul stepped away from the crowd to retreat to his office, you were on him.

"Azul."

He froze, hand on the doorknob, and turned to face you. "Ah, is there something I can—"

You grabbed his tie and tugged, not too hard, but enough to shut him up and pull him closer. His glasses slipped down his nose as his eyes widened in surprise.

"Listen here, Azul," you started, voice low and firm. "I’ve been watching people fawn over you all night, and frankly, I’m this close to losing my mind."

"I-I beg your pardon?" he stammered, his usual eloquence completely deserting him.

"You know exactly what I mean," you huffed, glaring up at him. "You walk around, flashing that business smile, charming everyone without even trying, and it drives me crazy. When are you going to stop playing hard to get and make me yours already?"

Azul’s face turned a shade you didn’t even think was possible. "W-What?! I… I don’t—"

"You know I belong in your arms," you continued, taking a step closer, making him back up against the wall. "So what’s the holdup, huh? Or do you like torturing me by letting me watch all these people drool over you?"

Azul opened and closed his mouth a few times, utterly speechless. His glasses were fogging up slightly, and his hands hovered awkwardly at his sides as if he didn’t know where to put them.

"You’re jealous?" he finally managed to croak out, voice barely above a whisper.

"Beyond jealous," you admitted shamelessly. "And I’m done hiding it."

Azul’s blush deepened, and he cleared his throat, trying to regain some composure. "I… I had no idea you felt this way."

"Well, now you do." You leaned in slightly, smirking at how flustered he looked. "So? What’s it gonna be, Azul? Are you gonna make me yours, or do I have to endure another night of watching people throw themselves at you?"

He straightened his glasses, avoiding your gaze, but the small, shy smile that crept onto his lips gave him away. "I… would be honored to make you mine," he said softly, then added, "And for the record, I don’t care about anyone else throwing themselves at me. I only care about you."

The sincerity in his voice made your heart skip a beat, and you couldn’t help but grin. "Took you long enough to admit it," you teased, finally letting go of his tie.

Azul chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I… suppose I have a lot to learn about expressing myself."

"Don’t worry," you said, grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers. "I’ll teach you."

And judging by the way his blush deepened, he didn’t mind the idea one bit.

Trey Clover

The scene in the Heartslabyul kitchen was one you’d seen countless times before. Trey, sleeves rolled up, apron tied snugly around his waist, calmly mixing batter in a bowl as the scent of freshly baked pastries filled the air. He always looked so perfectly in his element here, like nothing could ever faze him.

Unfortunately, your patience had absolutely been fazed.

"Did you see that? Trey is so cool and kind!"

"I’m thinking of confessing to him this weekend—do you think he likes roses or sweets more?"

The voices of swooning freshmen played on a loop in your mind, fueling the fire in your chest. Everywhere you went, someone was singing Trey’s praises. It didn’t help that he was everything they said and more—charming, steady, warm. He was the complete opposite of Riddle’s strictness, and freshmen flocked to him for it.

But they didn’t get to adore him like that. Not if you had anything to say about it.

you stormed into the kitchen, your footsteps firm and purposeful. Trey, ever composed, glanced up from his work and greeted you with a soft smile.

"What a surprise. I was just about to put these in the oven. Want to—"

"Cut the sweet talk, Clover," you interrupted, marching straight up to him and slamming your hands on the counter. His smile faltered slightly, though the amusement in his eyes betrayed him.

"Something on your mind?" he asked, setting the bowl aside and leaning casually against the counter, as if your obvious fury didn’t rattle him in the slightest.

"Yeah, something’s on my mind," you snapped. "I can’t take it anymore, Trey."

His brow arched slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. "Can’t take what, exactly?"

You stepped closer, effectively pinning him against the counter. Your tone softened, but your words carried the weight of everything you’d been holding back. "I can’t take watching people fall all over you. Every day, it’s the same thing—'Trey this,' 'Trey that,' 'Trey-senpai is so perfect.' And now I hear someone’s planning to confess to you this weekend?"

Trey tilted his head, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "You seem awfully worked up about this."

"Of course I’m worked up! I—" You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "I can’t stand the thought of anyone else having you, Trey. You know I belong in your arms, so when are you going to stop torturing me and make me yours?"

For the first time, you saw Trey genuinely falter. His eyes widened slightly, and a faint blush dusted his cheeks. But just as quickly, he regained his composure, his smile softening into something warmer, more genuine.

"So, you’re jealous," he said, his voice laced with amusement.

"Obviously," you muttered, crossing your arms. "And if you knew all along, you’re even more infuriating than I thought."

Trey chuckled, reaching up to adjust his glasses. "I had a feeling, but I didn’t want to rush you. I was waiting for you to say it yourself."

"Well, I’ve said it now. What are you going to do about it?"

His smile turned fond as he reached out, gently brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "I guess I should finally put you out of your misery, huh?"

Before you could respond, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "You’ve been mine all along, you know," he murmured, his voice low and warm.

Your breath hitched, and you felt the heat rising to your cheeks. "You… could’ve told me sooner," you mumbled, looking away.

"Where’s the fun in that?" he teased, though the sincerity in his tone betrayed how much he meant it. "Besides, it was worth the wait to hear you say it so passionately."

"Ugh, you’re a villain," you muttered, though you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips.

Trey chuckled, pulling you into a gentle hug. "Villain or not, you’re stuck with me now."

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Rook Hunt

Rook Hunt was everything you could want—and everything you couldn’t have. At least, that’s what it felt like.

His poetic words and boundless charm had drawn you in long ago, and you were certain they’d ensnared countless others just as easily. He was magnetic, otherworldly, impossible to ignore. And the way he spoke to people—praised them—was just… who he was. You understood that. You accepted it. But it didn’t stop the burning jealousy from clawing at your chest every time someone looked at him like he hung the moon.

Like today.

“I think Rook might be interested in me,” someone had whispered. “He said my laughter was like a melody carried on the wind!”

You’d laughed it off at the time, acting unaffected as you walked away, but the words echoed in your mind, leaving you restless and frustrated. Of course, Rook hadn’t meant it like that. You knew better than anyone how whimsical and effusive he could be. But it didn’t matter. Every glance he cast, every flowery compliment he offered, made you feel like your claim on him—if you even had one—was slipping through your fingers.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

By the time you found him in the courtyard, you were trembling—not from anger, but from the weight of everything you’d been holding back. Rook stood by a tree, gazing up at the branches with a soft smile, the winter sun casting a halo around his golden hair. When he noticed you approaching, his face lit up, and he greeted you in his usual fashion.

“Ah, mon trésor! How radiant you are today! To see you is to feel the sun’s warmth, even in the cold of—”

“Rook,” you interrupted, your voice tighter than you intended.

His smile faltered, replaced by an expression of mild concern. “Is something wrong, my dear?”

You stopped just a step away from him, your hands curling into fists at your sides. “No, not wrong. Just…” You hesitated, swallowing hard. “I need to say this before I lose my nerve.”

Rook tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his eyes, and the sight of him—so open, so beautiful—made your heart ache.

“I know how you are,” you began, your voice shaking. “I know you love to compliment people, and that’s… fine. It’s part of who you are. But…” You looked away, embarrassed by the heat rising to your face. “I hate the way they look at you. The way they think they might have a chance with you.”

“Mon ange…” Rook murmured, his voice softening.

“I’m not asking you to stop,” you said quickly, meeting his gaze again. “I could never ask you to change that. But I… I want them to know. I want everyone to know that you’re mine.”

There it was. The truth, laid bare between you. Your heart pounded as silence stretched, and for the first time, you saw Rook genuinely stunned. His eyes widened, his lips parting as if to speak, but no words came.

Then, slowly, a smile broke across his face—wide and radiant and filled with something you couldn’t quite name.

“Ah, mon amour,” he breathed, his voice trembling with emotion. “You are magnificent.”

Before you could respond, Rook closed the distance between you, his hands gently cupping your face as he gazed at you with a reverence that stole your breath.

“Do you know how long I have waited to hear those words?” he whispered. “How I have longed for this moment?”

Your breath caught, your eyes searching his. “You… you waited?”

“Of course,” he said, his smile softening. “How could I not? You are the one who holds my heart, mon trésor. I could not give it to anyone else, no matter how many compliments I offer.”

The relief that washed over you was overwhelming, and you laughed—soft and shaky, but genuine. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Rook chuckled, his thumbs brushing gently against your cheeks. “And you are extraordinary. Shall we make it official, then? Let the world know that we are one?”

Your heart swelled, and you nodded, a smile breaking across your face. “Yeah. Let’s.”

Rook beamed, his joy so infectious you couldn’t help but laugh again. And as he pulled you into his arms, spinning you around with the kind of exuberance only he could muster, you knew you’d never have to wonder if you belonged in his heart. You were already there.

Masterlist

[athenagc94]

Dear Daddy Long Legs

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

A concept I've been toying with. Will probably post the complete fic to AO3 once I've got a few more chapters written, but though I would share some of the chapters here first to garner interest. This fic is inspired by the (musical mostly, but also novel) of Daddy Long Legs.

Warnings: Some angst and self-reflection, nothing too heavy yet.

Prologue

Taking the subway had to be the most mundane thing a person could do, and after the night he just had, Jason needed mundane.

He traded his uniform and helmet for a well-worn hoodie and a Wonder Woman cap that hid the streak in his hair. He sat with his shoulders hunched to make himself smaller, less imposing, but no amount of hunching could hide the broad planes of his chest. The stench of blood and gunpowder clung to him despite ringing off before he left the Outlaw safehouse.

It would have been wiser to stay behind and regroup. Everything that could go wrong with their assignment did, but he didn’t want to sit and stew in all the ways they failed—in all the ways he failed. Bizzaro let him without much fuss. Artemis had more to say.

“You can’t run from your failures like a coward.”

Leave it to her to keep him humble.

Their latest job took them halfway across the globe, and after facing metahumans, myths come to life, and sorcerers, Jason missed the psychopaths of home. This wasn’t the first time he’d been away. A month was nothing compared to five years, but he yearned for the familiarity of Gotham.

Nostalgia was a bitch.

Being back brought a well of complicated emotions with it. Anger, regret, but there was something else, something that tightened his chest and left his stomach soupy. He tried to ignore it, knowing he wouldn’t like what he found if he sat with it too long.

So, subway.

Mundane.

Human—he just wanted to feel human.

His knee bounced as lights rushed past, casting harsh shadows across the rubber floor. It was quiet, save for the slow grind of steel on steel as the car raced down its track. It was empty save for him.

Well, him and you.

He might have missed you entirely if not for the bright yellow jacket thrown over your button up and slacks. Unless your name was Robin or Signal, yellow was a bold choice for Gotham—especially this late at night. You chewed on the plastic end of the drawstring as you pored over the book in your lap.

Jason, despite every instinct telling him not to, craned his neck to identify the book. It might have been an effective strategy if you weren’t halfway across the car and facing him. You seemed to sense the weight of his stare and looked up. The string fell from your mouth as it tightened with the guarded look in your eyes.

An embarrassed flush burned his ears as he looked away. It was easier to pretend he knew how to socialize when compared to people like Bizarro and Artemis, who were far from the paragons of conservation. Charm was learned, and his was a little rusty.

But now that he had your attention, he might as well ask. “What’re you reading?”

Your eyes narrowed a fraction as you gave him a once over. When you found whatever, you were trying to ascertain, you lifted the book to show him the cover. The edges were frayed and discolored; its spine well-worn, but the words ‘Wuthering Heights’ popped against the taupe cloth.

Jason sat a little straighter. “First time reading it?”

You rubbed the page between your thumb and forefinger as a thoughtful deliberation creasing your brow. “Second time. I read it in high school, but I didn’t fully appreciate it. Now that I’ve dipped my toes into a few more classics, I thought it was worth revisiting.”

“And what’s the verdict?”

You were two-thirds finished, which was more than enough time to form an opinion. Jason had thoughts, but he wanted to hear from you first.

You considered him again, almost conflicted. “I appreciate it more than I did back then. I understand why people consider it a cult classic. It’s complex, and I like complex. Heathcliff is deeply flawed, Catherine too, but that’s what makes them compelling characters.”

He smiled. “I’ve never read a more complex, mutually destructive love story like Wuthering Heights in years. I mean, like, full-body chills every time I read it. There’s something thrilling about it.”

“Right,” you exclaimed, a passion igniting in your eyes.

“Now, Darcy, that’s a real paragon of romance.”

The car slowed, coming to a stop at an empty platform. The doors opened with a soft hiss as the automated voice announced the stop. Your gaze flicked to the door, then back to him. He half-expected you to make a run for it, but you stayed planted in your seat. He blinked.

Or maybe you expected him to leave instead?

He settled back in his chair to make himself comfortable. The doors closed once more, and the subway continued down its track.

You relaxed a little. “Well, Mr. Darcy, if you know so much about the classics, what do you recommend I read next?”

He choked on his laugh.

Jason was no leading man despite how often he dreamed of being transported into a regency-era romance novel. Throw him in a silk waist coat with a messily knotted cravat and call him a rake because he’d make the fictional women swoon.

Reality, however, was much darker and hung over his head like a thick smog that threatened to suffocate him. He didn’t exist on this earth to sweep ladies off their feet or duel for their honor. That, and he wasn’t nearly as suave in action as he pretended to be.

“And for the record, I’ve already read Pride and Prejudice.”

He rubbed his hands together. “Oh, boy. How long do you have?”

A small smile curved your lips. “I'm not going anywhere.”

Discussing books came easily to him—probably because he had a lot of opinions and not a lot of people to share them with. Artemis didn't read, Bizarro preferred movies, and Roy—well, Jason was still reeling about their last book-related discussion where Roy tried to convince him that movie was always better than the book. For both their sakes, Jason made a conscious choice to not discuss books with him after that.

You listened as he rambled, going off about his favorite authors Austen and Dumas. He should have been embarrassed by how much he was talking, but the quiet intensity in your gaze spurred him to keep going.

His chest tightened with every stop, believing the next would be the point where you two parted ways for good. From the way your gaze kept darting to the door at each stop, he had an inkling that the feeling was mutual. He decided not to ask, lest it break whatever spell had fallen between you two.

All good things must come to an end. When the door slid open on the Park Row exit, Jason stood, albeit reluctantly. You did the same, slinging a plain canvas bag over your shoulder.

He curbed his surprise. “Park Row, eh?”

“The lifeblood of Gotham,” you said humorlessly.

Jason laughed. You did not. It died on a grunt as he tried to appear more sympathetic.

You exited the car with him, zipping the front of your hoodie as the unseasonably cool air pebbled his skin. He stuffed his hands in his jogger pockets and followed you up the stairs that led out onto the street. It was dark, darker than usual given the city had yet to replace the shattered streetlamp on the corner. It might have been his doing, errant bullets were a hazard of the job, but he was mildly irritated to find it was still broken.

Calm washed over him as he breathed. It was good to be home, even with all the complicated emotions that came with that sentiment.

“You live nearby?”

Your dubious look made him cringe. That sounded creepy coming from him, a random guy you barely knew. Sometimes it was difficult to separate Jason from Red Hood, not that he believed for a second that it would change your reaction. If you lived here, which he assumed you did because no Gothamite in their right mind would willingly follow him onto the street lovingly dubbed Crime Alley, the name Red Hood held weight. For all the good he did for the citizens, there was plenty of bad stack against him. He didn’t expect you to trust him with or without the helmet.

“Forget I asked,” he said.

You stared at him a second longer before walking away. “Stay safe, Mr. Darcy.”

Your tone carried an edge of finality, like you never expected to see him again. Despite the disappointment purling in his chest, he agreed that was probably for the best. A brief conversation with you was a warmer welcome than he anticipated, but he wasn’t about to push his luck by asking for more.

He lifted his hand to wave, though you had already disappeared around the corner. “You too.”

[angelltheninth]

Hi Angell, I was wondering what your Arcane ships were?

I think I'm super basic except for one, but I am a multishipper at heart so anything here goes.

Piltover's Finest/Caitvi - shipped them since high school where some of my friends introduced me to League, which I played once before I decided it was not for me, but safe to say I've been shipping them for a long time and couldn't be happier that they're canon

Meljay - love them so much, they're really soft around each other, I like how Jayce brings out Mel's more tender side and manages to get around the armor of the politician she made around herself, and I like how protective Mel gets of Jayce and comforts him when he needs it

Jayvik - always a sucker for a good co-workers to lovers dynamic, they compliment each other in a lot of ways and I think they have such devotion to each other, cause even if you look at them as completely platonic the affection and devotion is still there no matter what

Meljayvik - let Mel have her two nerds and love them, not to mention that Mel and Viktor are foils to each other in many ways, in terms of color and narrative, and Jayce holds them together with his big strong, buff arms, plus it feels like they would all feel the need to take care of each other when they get overworked

Skyvik - we all know Sky had a crush on Viktor for a long time but he was too much of a workaholic nerd to notice, that being said s2 gave me so much with them, and I don't think Viktor lied at at all when he said he was gonna miss Sky's company and talking with her

Timebomb - friends to lovers, childhood friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, doomed by the narrative, this ship has it all and is canon in a alternate reality, I will never not love the bond these two have and how they manage to pull each other up when they need it

Lightcannon - I was always a fan of Lux and Jinx, again since high school and they were the second ship I shipped in the fandom, they haven't met in the animated universe (yet) but they are best friends and classmates in the Magical Girl timeline, and there are implications that Jinx has a crush on Lux there

Piltover's Finest Spy - now is one I that took me by complete surprise but as someone who loves Maddie this is me being delusional, I'm not saying she still can't be evil, but this has potential for angst, redemption, and a hot threesome, what more do I need to say

[farfaras]

I think I got an ex but I forgot him.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Ao3 link.

-

“Do you really think this is necessary?” Asked Jonathan. “I mean, in what context would we even do this?”

‘This’ being kissing.

Steve rolled his eyes. “I'm a PDA fanatic, Jon. And most people in the party know this. They saw me with Nancy.”

Jon seemed to be debating this. “That's… a point.”

“What's wrong with kissing me? Kissing is not that big of a deal. It's good with anyone.” Steve sighed, he didn't understand why this was an argument.

“Okay,” Jon put his hands up. “Say we kiss and it's normal and not weird, even when we used to not like each other not long ago.” Steve motioned for him to continue. “I say we establish a limit of kisses per day.” That sounds fair.

“How many?” Steve asked.

“How about, say four?” Jonathan proposed.

Steve raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

“Like four times? Or just four kisses? Be specific here.” Steve needed confirmation, and he was hoping it was times, because who counts kisses?

“Four times. Sure, Steve. Whatever.” Jon managed to read his mind somehow.

“Okay then, kiss me.” Steve said.

“Now?” He seemed hesitant.

“That's the whole reason I came over today, we were gonna practice our displays of affection.” Steve explained. He called Jonathan in the morning. Talked about how his hand holding during the coming out was great and those cheek kisses were cute and all, but they needed a bigger repertoire.

“Just thought we were gonna start smaller.” Jon muttered, kinda sassy like a kid uttering something under his breath so his mom doesn't hear.

Steve laughed. “Like what?”

“I don't know.” Jon was lost in thought for a moment. “Oh!” He snapped his fingers. “We do movie nights sometimes.”

“Okay. What does that have to do with anything?” Steve asked. People really needed to learn to explain themselves better.

“We can practice how we'd act there. You know, during the movie. How would we sit?” Jon finally explained his line of reasoning.

“Huh.” They could do that. “Ideas?”

“Well, we could do a simple arms around the shoulder.” Jon said.

“Boring!” Steve sing-songed. “That's not me at all. Doesn't even feel like something I would do.”

“It seems exactly like something I would do though.” Jonathan said. “What would you do then?”

“Making out, kissing necks, I don't know!”

Jon's eyes widened. “While other people are there? No, you wouldn't.”

“While they're sitting on my lap even.” Steve wiggled his eyebrows.

“Huh, maybe that's it.”

Steve’s face was back to confusion. “What?”

“The middle ground.” Jon continued. Steve just gave him his best please explain what you're saying eyes. “An arm around shoulders is too boring for you, and making out seems too much for me. So maybe being on someone's lap is the compromise.”

“Without making out.” Steve just wanted to confirm he was understanding.

Jon gave him a flat and unimpressed stare. “Yes, Steve. Without making out.”

“Okay, I knew you were smart, Byers.”

“I thought it was,” Jon was using air quotes now, “‘that's babe to you.’”

Steve lowered his voice. “I can call you babe” he also fucking winked.

“Save it for the show.”

Steve got up and sat on a chair near Jonathan's desk. “Okay, come here then.”

“Did we just assume I'm the one who's gonna sit on your lap?” Jon raised his eyebrows.

“Oh my god, if you wanted to feel my ass on you, all you had to do was ask.” Steve used a fake put upon voice so Jon'd know he was just teasing. He stood up and waited for him to sit.

Jon just stared at him, then burst out laughing. “Okay, we can try your way first.”

Steve sat back again on the chair. Jonathan didn't seem like he knew what to do next, he was just standing in front of him. “What are you waiting for? An invitation?”

“I don't think I've ever been this close to a guy before.” Jon pondered.

“Jesus christ,” Steve rolled his eyes. “We've definitely been this close before, maybe not while being friendly, but we've been close.”

“Right.” Jon turned around and sat down. Steve’s hands moved, his right hand on Jon's waist and the other grasped one of Jon's hands, after trailing on his arm.

“Put your arm around me, Jon.” Steve said and Jon listened.

After he did that, they were able to be face to face. “This is not so weird, is it?” Jonathan said.

“Nah. Actually ‘s kinda nice.” Their faces were close, so Steve backed up a little to send a smile Jonathan's way. “Can we kiss now?”

Jon just rolled his eyes at him and giggled. “You're persistent, Harrington.”

Steve just shrugged. “We're going to have to do it eventually.”

“Fine.” Jonathan sighed, looking at his ceiling. So resigned.

“You're acting like it's such a chore, should I be offended?” Steve quizzed. He wasn't actually offended, he thought it was funny. And also hoped Jon wasn't uncomfortable or anything.

“I'm just teasing. It really isn't a chore to kiss an attractive guy at all.” Jon put their intertwined hands on his lap.

“I knew you thought I was hot.” Steve got closer.

“I never told you because I know you're full of yourself and self absorbed, of course.” Steve mocked offense to that. “But we're friends now, so. I like you even if you're full of yourself and self absorbed.”

“Aw, I like you too Jonny boy.” Steve cooed.

“Please don't call me that.” Jon cringed.

“Do you prefer sweetie pie?” Steve rubbed their noses together to maximize the cheesiness.

“I thought we were gonna kiss.” Jon pulled back.

“Oh, now you wanna be kissing.” Steve teased. Jon gave him one of his many flat stares, Steve was getting used to them. “Okay! I'm gonna kiss you now.”

Steve moved the hand that was resting on Jon's waist to put it under his jaw, while Jonathan put his hand on the back of Steve's neck. They were still holding hands, it seemed like a natural thing a couple would do, right? Anyway, Steve guided him until their breaths were mingling, Jon just seemed to be waiting on him. So Steve closed the gap between them.

The kiss was innocent, chaste and close mouthed, lasted a couple seconds and then they were parting. Steve made a face, he communicated through his expression that they could do better, so he went back in. This time his lips were slightly parted, and he thumbed Jon's jaw so he'd do the same. That was moderately successful, but Steve felt like it wasn't enough. He put his fingers on Jon's chin so he could lead him to a more open mouth kiss. The way his tongue entered Jon's mouth was languid and deliberate in his exploration.

Jon made a pleased sound, it vibrated through him and it was like a reflex, the sound of someone being kissed and liking it just made him act on instinct now.

He started trailing kisses on Jon's jaw, then the neck. He let go of Jon's hand, which Jon just used that freedom to sink it in his hair. While Steve rested his on Jon's thigh, trailing a little higher than anticipated. Steve went back to kissing Jonathan. It punched out a tiny whimper out of him, maybe Steve surprised him a bit. This kiss was still slow, like the last one. The difference is that Jon was giving him tongue now, too. They weren't fighting for dominance whatsoever, it still felt like Steve was leading. He felt himself getting a little hot under the collar, and they were running out of breath so he backed off.

Jon's eyes were still closed. “Wow,” he opened his eyes. “That was way better that I thought it was gonna be.”

Huh? “You thought I'd be a bad kisser?!” Steve exclaimed. Even though he was thinking the exact same thing, for different reasons though. Jonathan was into dudes, and Steve considered himself to be a good kisser so it shouldn't be a bad experience for Jon at all! However Steve wasn't into dudes (right?), so it was a surprise that he didn't think this experience was at all bad. It was even pleasant. Could straight guys enjoy kissing a guy? It was just kissing after all.

“I didn't say that!” Jon huffed. “I just thought you'd be more awkward about kissing a guy, that was not awkward at all.”

“It wasn't. I wasn't.”

“It was actually kinda nice.” Jon stated.

“Oh, come on.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Just kinda?” They were still in the same position, Jon's hands had moved to his shoulders. But Steve still had his hands on Jon's waist and thigh. Since Jon's head was above his, it was easy to flutter his eyelashes for him.

Jonathan just laughed and rolled his eyes. “Okay, it was very nice.” He gave in.

Steve impulsively gave him a quick peck and moved them to sit up. “Okay, let's try that again but now I get to sit on your lap.”

Jonathan looked confused, kinda whiplashed, but complied and sat down. Steve, instead of just sitting like a normal person, actually straddled Jon's lap like a crazed little guy. Jonathan, in a turn of events, blushed and didn't even know where to put his hands. Steve easily placed his on Jon's neck.

“This is not what we agreed on.” He wouldn't look Steve in the eyes.

“I just wanted to see if I could fluster you,” Steve lied. “I see now that I could, now back to the original programming.” How anyone didn't realize how much of a dork Steve was, was still a mystery to him. He mirrored Jon's position now. His hands still on Jon's neck. “You can touch me, I'm not gonna bite.” Jonathan shot him a look with suspicion laced in it. “Okay, maybe if you want me to.” Steve joked. He was almost sure it was a joke, anyway.

Jonathan hugged his middle. It was cozy, sitting like this. “Now what?” He asked.

Steve shrugged. “Wanna make out? It was fun.”

Jonathan looked at him like he was crazy. “For fun? You'd do that just for fun?”

“Got anything better to do?”

Jon thought about that for about five seconds before he was shrugging and shaking his head no.

-

As Steve was driving home, after a make out session with none other than Jonathan fucking Byers (they made out for like 20 minutes before Will actually walked in on them, the horror, which actually just helped them gain credibility for this fake dating spiel), he started to contemplate a possibility that maybe and just maybe a straight guy wouldn't have done what he did today.

And listen, kissing has always been one of Steve's favorite things to do. So he thought that no matter who it was it'd be good, or at least okay. But it wasn't just okay. It wasn't even just good. It was hot, and it was sensual, and if they kept going or changed positions he's almost positive that he'd have ended up with a problem.

So now he was confused. When he got home he needed to call Robin. Wait, what was he gonna tell her?

-

“You what?!” She yelled. Robin was pacing around the room. “You're an absolute moron. Oh my god, you're a moron and you're my moron.”

“You gotta understand! I- I panicked completely and you of all people should understand!” He tried to justify himself. Steve was just digging his own hole at this point.

He wasn't going to tell Robin about him fake dating Jonathan. He wasn't! But then he called her and she didn't even let him talk, said she was bored on their day off and invited herself over. Next thing he knew, he was spilling his guts all over the living room with Robin as his witness.

He really can't keep secrets from her.

“If you ignored him, he would've left you alone eventually!” She was talking about Dustin.

“You don't know that!” His voice was high. “Besides you didn't see the look on his face when he told Jon and me that our relationship might help someone who's struggling with their sexuality!” He still remembered that stupid and concerned face. “He was so concerned as a friend and he wanted to support them but didn't know how!”

“Oh god, does he know about me? Am I that obvious?” Robin paled.

“He was trying to set you up with me, he doesn't know about you.”

“Then… who…? Oh.” She calmed down and inhaled quickly just a second later. “I've had some suspicion about that kid for a while.”

“Yeah, well. Apparently Dustin too.”

“His heart's in the right place.” Robin sat down next to him on the couch.

“This isn't even what I wanted to talk to you about.” He complained.

“There's more to this absurdity?”

“So, Jon and I were practicing our kissing,”

“Of course you were.” She said.

“Shut up.” He fixed her a, hopefully, stern look. “We actually ended up making out for about 20 minutes, my suggestion by the way, and I found myself,” He should've thought about his words sooner.

“What?” Robin asked. She seemed patient with him, a ridiculous change of pace from a minute ago.

“Jon is a guy, and I enjoyed making out with him.”

Silence.

“Would you, do you think,” Steve needed to think before he spoke. “Do you think you'd enjoy kissing a guy?”

Robin made a disgusted face. “I would most definitely not enjoy kissing a guy.”

“Okay, but see, I always thought that kissing is just kissing and it would be good with anyone.” Steve explained his point of view, even though it was starting to sound like he was weird for it.

“Even before you knew what it was to kiss a guy?” She asked slowly.

“I mean, yeah, I've thought about guys I'd kiss before.” He responded.

“I've never seen a guy I'd be willing to kiss, Steve. Never even considered it.” She was shaking her head. Her eyes were so inquisitive, and Steve was starting to feel like he was under a microscope. “Maybe think more about that.”

He nodded.

“You want to watch a movie?” He needed a distraction.

“Always.” He really loved her.

-

The movie nights they had weren't strictly planned on a calendar, but they had them at least once a month it seemed like. Tonight was one of those. Steve liked having all of his friends at his house, it was comforting.

Tonight he wasn't even sure what they were watching, it was Lucas’ turn to pick a movie and he must have gone and rented it at family video while he wasn't working ‘cause he didn't remember Lucas renting anything.

The first people to arrive were obviously Robin and Eddie. They usually hung out a bit before the actual movie night, sometimes they stayed the night too. They let themselves in as always and sat down with him.

“Hey guys, want something to drink?” He offered.

“No, thanks, if I want anything I'll get it later.” Robin replied.

“You got coke, Stevie?” Eddie stood up to rummage his fridge.

“Yeah, it must be somewhere in there.” He followed Eddie into the kitchen. “Thought you'd want a beer.”

Eddie emerged with his drink in hand. He shrugged. “Night's still young.”

Steve smiled. “It isn't even night yet.”

“Exactly.”

Once everyone was there, all the kids and Jonathan too, they settled in to watch the movie.

Normally, Steve was in between Robin and Eddie for movie nights. However now that Jonathan and him were “together” they put their plan in action. Before, when they practiced their PDA, they decided that Steve was the one that would sit on Jon's lap. They just felt more comfortable that way, maybe because they spent more time that way but now that was irrelevant. They wouldn't change plans right at that moment.

So Jonathan sat on an individual couch and Steve followed. Right next to them was the couch he normally sat on with Eddie and Robin. He saw Robin visibly pout when she realized she wouldn't be able to sleep on his shoulder when she inevitably grew bored of the film. She gave herself a whole five seconds to mourn her bestie and then she schooled her expression and melted on the couch.

He was so amused with Robin's reaction that he hadn't noticed Eddie's. He actually looked mad. His brows were furrowed, his eyes didn't look happy at all. And his arms were crossed like he couldn't even believe what he was seeing. When he realized that Steve had caught his eye, he looked away and tried to relax. Emphasis on tried.

Steve really wanted to believe that Eddie's reaction was because he was gonna miss Steve being next to him and Robin, and not because of the nature of the relationship that Jon and Steve were portraying. He liked cuddling with Eddie and Robin during movie nights. They're his best friends, and he liked to think they enjoyed that time with him too. So a reaction to that change wasn't totally unwarranted, he just hoped that was the whole reason for it.

At some point during the movie, Jonathan and Steve did share a kiss. It was brief, nothing serious. But right after it happened, Steve heard someone standing up, and he turned to see Eddie leaving to enter the kitchen. He, of course, followed him.

Eddie was just standing in front of the sink.

Steve cleared his throat to announce himself. Eddie soon pretended to be looking for something in the fridge.

“What was that?” Steve asked.

Eddie looked back at him, finally. “What was what?” He closed the fridge, with his hands empty ‘cause he wasn't looking for anything really.

“Is there something you want to tell me Eddie?” He really, really didn't want something to be there.

Eddie crossed his arms. “What are you even implying?” His tone wasn't entirely defensive, it was also hesitant.

“You just, walked out right after,” Steve sighed. “Do you have a problem with me and Jon? I know I already asked you the other day but, you really are acting weird and it's making me nervous because you're one of my best friends and if you do have a problem it's gonna be so-” Steve didn't get to finish because Eddie was right in front of him suddenly and his hands were on his shoulders.

“Hey, hey,” Eddie used the tone of voice he used when he calmed Steve down from a nightmare. “You, you think I'm homophobic?” Eddie sounded pained.

For some reason, Steve realized he was misty eyed. He shook his head. “I would never think that about you, but the way you're acting…”

Eddie crushed him, he was hugging him so tight and Steve will always hug Eddie back.

Eddie stepped back. “I'm not homophobic. Quite um, the opposite actually.”

Steve did not understand subtlety, why did everyone forget that? “I don't- what?”

Eddie smiled fondly at him. He looked down, seemed to be finding courage to say something. He looked back up determined. “I'm gay, Steve.”

“Oh.” Steve nodded. “Thank you for telling me, you know for, trusting me.”

“I trust you the most, sweetheart.” They hugged again, it was longer this time.

When they separated, the look of confusion that was so common on Steve these days came back in full force. “Then why have you been acting so weird lately?” Steve asked.

Eddie opened his mouth, then closed it. He repeated that one, two or three other times. “I- you know, I was totally just,”

“Yeah?”

Eddie shrugged. “I guess I was jealous?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” Steve thought that Eddie didn't seem completely sure about what he was saying.

“I'm lonely, okay?! I'm single and you parade around with your new boyfriend, which I should just be happy that you can because let's be honest, where could you guys act like this? Nowhere else!” Eddie was rambling now, but Steve understood what he was trying to say, mostly. “It's just, hard. You know?”

“I'm sorry.” Steve found himself saying.

“Eh. What are you gonna do?” Eddie seemed genuinely sad. Steve hated seeing him like this. He squeezed Steve’s shoulder and went back to the living room.

Steve just stood there for a really long time contemplating what just happened. He had another friend who was into guys. Eddie liked guys. Steve maybe also could like guys. Maybe. Did he? And why did this news leave him so shook? He felt like he could float but also like his stomach had a weight to it that had never been there before. And- god now there was a flutter.

Steve was so fucked.

-

Taglist below.

This is actually the last time I use the taglist (that is over a year old btw). So if you want to keep reading you can either follow the tag "I think I got an ex but I forgot him" or "mer writes sometimes". Thank you for reading!

Tag list.

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