#-but hes just a guy. hes only human. hes not perfect. he was a kid once and he made so many stupid mistakes not realizing they'd effect-

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

Hii ! Could you please do some husband/ father baji Head cannons. Tysm <33333333

Yeah, here are some for Baji!

Baji never really understood the whole wedding thing and what a big deal it was before he met you, then he suddenly realised how much he wanted it.

He's a very responsible dad, more responsible then his friends assumed he'd be but Baji takes raising a child pretty seriously, same as with his vet work.

Speaking of vet work, he did get a few things mixed up in pregnancy stage and asked questions about things that a human baby wouldn't do (after how many weeks will the baby open their eyes etc).

Tends to try to let you sleep if the baby or kids start crying in the night, he's always determined to try and deal with it himself (though he does need your help sometimes). 

Isn't afraid to tell his friends to shut up when the baby is sleeping (even if he accidentally wakes the baby up after doing this the first few times).

Struggles a lot to get out of bed in the morning when you're next to him, just wants to stay next to you. (You're definitely being forced to lie in with him on weekends).

He's pretty determined that his kid is gonna be strong too, like him. Will put his kid in martial arts classes (though if they show no interest in it he won't push them)

Is very protective as a partner, will constantly check your wellbeing and safety.

Is a very good mix of being strict and chill, actually a lot like how Ryoko was with him (his mother is his role model and he tries to parent in a similar way to her)

Puts in a lot of effort into all of your birthdays, doing his best to make the day perfect for you and the kids.

If Mikey has a kid around the same time then the two of them have a fun rivalry going, like who's kid will talk first etc.

Is a bit of a baby when it comes to taking medicines, doesn't like the way they taste and refuses to take them, you have to bribe him with other stuff he wants. 

Panics a bit when the baby first starts crying

Introduces his kid to all the neighbourhood cats and teaches his kid to feed them too.

Introduces you to all the neighbourhood cats too, he'll also occasionally bring one home and give you a pleading look as he asks if the cat can stay. 

Thinks men who won't change nappies or help out with the kids are weak 

Straight up congratulates his kid after they get sent home from school after a fight.

Tries to teach you a few self defense moves, just in case he can't be around. 

He's a very caring father who can be a bit strict at times but always does the best for his family

Your being married to Baji privileges includes being the only one allowed to touch his hair (at least while it's just the two of you).

Makes sure the two of you get plenty of dates (will spoil you a bit but he's denying it if anyone else asks)

Was so nervous about his wedding, Chifuyu and Kazutora had to reassure him a lot that it'll all go fine. 

Hates whenever he has to study long hours to become a vet because it means he gets less time with you and the kids. Promises to make up for it later though.

Being married to Baji also means having Chifuyu and Kazutora around a lot. Chifuyu especially does whatever he can for you, he respects you greatly for being the one Baji chose. They're also uncles to your kids and will argue about who the kids like more (it's Mikey because he brings them sweets)

Is very sentimental, keeps everything you and the kids give him.

As a partner he's very good at reading your moods and adapting to them. Your sad? Then he'll cheer you up. Stressed? He'll help you relax. Angry? Then he'll take you out somewhere to let that frustration out.

Is super glad when you get on well with his mother

He's a total family man, valuing you guys and his friends above all else. 

[apple-grass-and-smiles]

Very cool and not heartbreaking at all for the PJO show to emphasize that Percy is an outsider not only because he's new to the whole demigod thing, but also because he doesn't know the rules of being a traumatized kid with all the daddy/mommy issues possible

[stuffyflowers]

*massaging my temples with an irritated expression* I am soooooooo tired of people misunderstanding starlos character

[ace-with--a-mace]

idc yall could never make me hate richard cameron

[maskyartist]

okay i might've built on it a bit too much h n g now yall gotta deal with my ramblings so i can keep this in one place :0)

reminder that Failsafe AU is inspired by @bafflement's Deaged Oz AU go check it out its a fan favorite of mine ;3c the rest of my ramblings are under the cut

ANYWAYS in the Failsafe AU, Ozpin is mortally wounded during the Fall of Beacon with his battle against Cinder. in a final act of desperation, as restarting in a new body would ruin their chances of stopping Salem, Ozpin reaches for Long Memory and cracks the top similar to how Oscar used it on Monstro. after a bright flash of golden magic, Ozpin's body disappears under the rubble in a poof of smoke.

when Qrow finds the rubble, he finds no Headmaster and Long Memory left in its spot.

when Oscar is towing the fields in the morning, he finds a boy curled up under a bush, using his scarf as a pillow and tucked up into a ball. hes bruised and battered and Oscar knows only one person who could make all those aches better

Ozpin is taken to Oscar's Aunt, Aunty Em, with only two things in his memories.

His name, and that he NEEDS to get to Mistral. other then that, it's a blank slate of past memories and no future ones. he doesnt remember being Headmaster, or his friends, or anything like that. he only knows what 10 year old Ozpin would know, which isnt much.

theres also Ozymandias who has seemed to separate from Ozpin's soul once more, effectively undoing the Merge with this Failsafe that Ozma tucked away into Long Memory.

originally, Ozma had no clue what would HAPPEN with his Failsafe. all he knew was this amount of magic could theoretically teleport his body away from the danger, AND would revert the body back to a time before it was hurt.

however in Ozpin's case, the emotional strain and physical pain he's gone through during his life would revert him back to when he felt SAFEST. that being 10 years old, before the world could truly hurt him. the only pain he has is his leg, and even then he's just a happy kid with a lil leg injury.

Oscar ends up taking Ozpin to Mistral, as he wants to attend Haven Academy anyways so he may as well do some family searching for his new "baby brother".

rather then his normal calm self, young lil baby Ozpin is very shy, often seen lingering around Oscar or Qrow, and is quick to tears if someone pushes him too hard. he wants to be a brave knight like the storybooks and fairytales, and his "best friend" says he'll go down in history one day! but he doesnt have much self esteem

like...hes just a kid. and now he's going on this big adventure with all these Huntsmen and hes so excited! hes gonna be a knight! a wizard! a hero!

meanwhile Qrow is scrambling to find some sorta way to get Ozpin back to normal with the help of Ozymandias, who can't often take over Ozpin's body as he's too young to handle the strain it puts on his fragile soul now, on TOP of all the world-ending war shit going on

oh, and hes an easy target for Salem like this since he's so young :) so thats DOUBLE the struggle of keepin this kid safe!

[melancholic-fig]

What I loved about the Substance was that it took impossible body standards imposed on women seriously. It didn't treat me like a kid throwing a temper tantrum about not being sexy. It didn't try to tell me "everyone is beautiful" and "every body is a beach body" in a pitiable voice that makes it all worse. There's no one singing to me about how "I cannot see my own beauty", as if validation from men will ever be enough to cover the black hole in my stomach drilled by years of self-loathing, binging-purging cycles and appetite-suppression pills. It haven't stopped for a second to congratulate itself for platitudes.

The substance threw an ice bucket on my head, grabbed me by the shoulders, dragged me to the mirror and told me "look at what violence you're inflicting on yourself!". It showed me a perfect body, the carrot on the stick, and then it hit it with a sledgehammer in white neon light. Is it worth it? Aren't you mad? Look at how he eats shrimp and doesn't wash his hands - is this the person you want to be liked by? Is this what you deserve for being human, really?

I've seen this movie on Friday and it's been stuck in my head ever since. I haven't looked in the mirror the same again. Somehow this made me kinder to myself.

I've seen reviewers say that this movie counts as "male gaze" and "violence against women" but I think they don't see the forest from the trees here.

First the male gaze: it felt like a deconstruction, in the best way. Sue's butt was the least erotic thing ever put to screen. The soft porn dance studio was shot in a lifeless manner, I felt like my mom was reading the browse history. Personally, I'd never want to have Sue's job. Even the sexist dudes that watch the movie seem to "get it", that their overly sexual media diet looks embarassing under the microscope. The medium is the message, and the sound and visual cues are all there to make sex appeal look very unappealing and immature. There's nothing sexy in "Pump it up", it's catchy and fun and has sexual undertones, but not a hint of sensuality.

Then the violence against women: there is only one scene where a man attacks a woman, and I'll not spoil it, but i'll say it's so bizzare it feels too cartoony to count. The rest of the violence is all self-inflicted. Every step of the way. Women don't just suffer abuse under patriarchy from men, they self-inflict and reenforce the structures of their own suffering onto others. Elizabeth is a fitness coach actively making bank off of other women's fears, and in the process of telling everyone over x kg to skip lunch she's grown her own self-loathing too. It wasn't really the horny men watching the fitness show, isn't it? Sue is even worse, she goes on talk shows to tell women her looks come from being kind, a silly statement considering she injects herself daily with an old woman's spine liquid while loathing her for existing. Elizabeth and Sue are both victims and perpetuators of violence, and it's gruesome because it's not a silly feminine thing, it's all-encompassing and a matter of life and death. Without violence, what would be the message of the movie? "It kinda sucks to be a woman hating your body". Doesn't sting, isn't it? This is not chopping women and putting them in refrigerators to give the good guy a reason to kill the baddie, this has to be violent to show the depth of pain of the protagonist. It's necessary. And I like it, because crying and wallowing in pain is not the behaviour you want to see on screens, it feels lethargic and leads to the problem not being taken as seriously.

[antiquepearlss]

Nuru thinks she’s the normal one but she’s just as weird as the rest of them.

Guys I NEED to rant about my thoughts on Nuru because i love her <3 ramblings ahead

Like I feel like in almost every fic i read, she's just like, a side character that's there to make whitty remarks to Hugo and be the levelheaded one. If she has an insecurity or problem it's usually pretty surface level and solved quickly, or only mentioned once or twice. I think there are SO many aspects of her character that are so cool.

Okay first, I think we sometimes forget that she's a nerd just like the rest of the gang. Yes, on the outside she's definetly the most 'normal' one, but I think we should concider the fact that she's the only girl in the group, and she's literal royalty. She was raised with a completely different set of standards than the other three. I don’t think I've really ever seen anyone cover that. I feel like she would get called "mature for her age" when she's only 15/16, and almost always gets critisism when she talks back with her own ideas (like her concerns about the meteor shows for example). I feel like out on her journey, she would finally get the freedom to just be herself, and be a kid and be able to rant on about her intrests with the rest of the group. It could be a struggle at first, but it would be awesome to see her getting more comfortable with the group the longer they spend together! Nerds encouraging nerdy rants lol

Since she is a kingdom figurehead, you could also argue that she always has a lot on her hands (especially since she's very proactive when it comes to science and solving problems). This could bring up a need to be productive, or always feeling like she needs to make the right decision, even for the littlest things.

I also feel like a lot of the time she's potrayed as the "right" one, who is 100% right when it comes to stuff like arguing with Hugo. Since they're opposites when it comes to class, they often are compared through that lense. I think it's cool just having Nuru tell Hugo off for judging a book by its cover, but I feel like they have a lot more in common than they realize. I think it would be interesting to see Nuru judging a book by its cover too. Maybe not to the degree that Hugo does, but I feel like calling out both their judging would not only call out character flaws, but it also enforces that even though they hate eachother and would never want to be like the other, they have a lot of the same flaws.

Also, being sheltered in a palace her whole life, I think she might think kind of black and white sometimes, and while she knows when people are just being mean as an act, she might struggle when it comes to people like reformed criminals.

Maybe she's able to be meaner to Hugo because she justifies it by telling herself he's criminal, and therefore bad, possibly glossing over the reasons he might be like that (maybe it crosses her mind, but she tells herself it's not a good enough reason, because stealing is still stealing, and he literally steals EVERYTHING. Even little trinkets and stuff he definitely doesn't need!). When they find out about Varian's criminal history, maybe she reexamines her views on morality and how she used to see people, because by her standards, Varian is a 'bad guy' who's caused harm to SO many people, but he's also the kind, caring, helpful friend that she's been traveling with who would never willingly hurt anyone.

Moving on to Amber x Nuru, I honestly never find myself liking the ship because Amber isn't developed enough which is fine. I don't think every character has to be a magnificent work of art. Side characters are side characters, but their romance is usually written like: "wow that girl is cute! I have a crush now!" Which is cool, but then that's about as far as it gets, then timeskip! Or offscreen they're a couple now. I know it's a side couple so it won't have as much devlopment as something like Varigo, but I never really see their dynamic play out in different situations. Like I don't know how to explain it, but it feels like they solely exist to be a couple? Amber sometimes just feels like an extention of Nuru, and their relationship feels surface level a lot of the time.

I feel like too often she's just watered down to the nice, smart, grounded friend, and I don't know I just think there’s so much more to explore with her. She’s not just some side character. She's literally part of the main cast! Even in fanart I feel like she doesn't really get a lot of stuff besides funny art and just like, pictures meant to look pretty. Unlike something you get a lot with characters like Varian or Hugo.

And honestly I get it. Some characters you just don't take an intrest in. I know I find Varian, Hugo, and Nuru more relatable than I find Yong, but I feel like part of that is developing their characters rather than just seeing them on a surface level. Ofc there are exceptions and there are some stories that dive deeper into Nuru's character out there! I just happen to see this A LOT.

Wow i said "surface level" a lot didn't I 😭😭

Anyway thank you for reading my rant i wanna know what you guys think!!

[1mlei]

I absolutely love the idea that Danny kills the Joker (because creepy clowns eww) and Jason happens to walk in right as he's panicking all over the place. Danny is desperately trying to explain it was an accident, while Jason's over here simultaneously feeling the best he's ever felt since his revival and falling head over heels in love at the same time.

Very cute, very fun, wholesome murder, 10/10 will read every time.

----------

Danny: *shoving Joker's body behind dumpster in a panic*

Jason: "Is that a dead body?"

Danny, recognizing Red Hood as someone famous in the Realms for avenging murder victims: "Oh hi Mr. Hood, ma'am, sir.. See this isn't what it looks like, it was a total accident I swear on half my life!"

Jason: "Half your wha-"

Danny, still in shock: It's just he was being all creepy, and I've had bad experiences with clowns before, I and then this one had a gun so I pushed him a bit, didn't mean to kill the dude, honestly!"

Jason: *walks over to check body*

Danny: "Soo, total accident, and I don't feel like being arrested, so I'm gonna go.."

Jason, realizing that is indeed the Joker lying dead behind a dumpster: "Hang on, at least give me-"

Jason turning around and seeing his saviour has vanished: "Damn, didn't even get his number."

...

Jason: *giddily takes selfie with corpse*

----------

Jason: *patrolling in relative peace when he sees some random guy and the flipping Joker in an alley, said Joker has a gun pulled on the poor guy*

Jason: *about to swing in to save the day and take out the Joker*

Danny, faced with a clown pointing a gun at his head while ranting about all the creepy things he's gonna do: "Yea no that's not gonna fly"

Danny: *Goes full on eldritch abomination and eats the Joker's soul, leaving his body as a lifeless husk*

Jason, standing at the mouth of the alley in disbelief:

Danny, turning back into his human form: "Oh eww, so not worth it, that guy tasted terrible."

Jason: *frantically straightens his jacket, tries to fix his hair and realizes his helmet's in the way, then strikes a pose and tries to look natural*

Danny: *turns around and realizes he's not alone*("omg is that Red Hood?")

Jason, using all his rizz: "Hey there handsome, don't suppose you'd let me treat you to some dessert after a meal like that? There's a place down the street ;)"

Danny: "..What?"

----------

Alternatively, Danny and Jason were already dating but got into an argument.

Danny, walking down a street brooding thinking: "Man, I've got to figure out how to make it up to Jason, chocolates, flowers, maybe get him a book, hmmm.."

Joker: *creepy giggling as he yanks a random kid that looks like he could possibly be a Wayne into alley™*

Danny, eyes lighting up: "Ohh yes you'll be perfect, thanks dude :]"

Joker: "Wh-"

..20 minutes later..

Danny, walking into his and Jason's apartment: "Babe! I'm sorry about earlier, but I have something to make it up to you!"

Jason, peeking around the corner with a frown: "Well whatever it is it's not just gonna fix- is that the fucking Joker?"

Danny: "Yep! Don't worry he only looks dead cause I'm holding his soul hostage right now, I thought you should get to do the honours <3"

Jason:

Danny:

Jason:

Danny: "...I have chocolates and that book you wanted to read as well..?"

Jason: "Marry me"

----------

Mmmhhh yes I love this trope so much!!

[shares-a-vest]

'Steve Harrington – Actual Babysitter?' (Drabble Prompt: Fluff)

Eddie walks into Family Video expecting to find Steve lolling on his swivel chair behind the counter and flipping through a magazine instead of doing... Well, whatever actually is written on that clipboard Robin is typically flapping about for fear of the wrath of Keith.

But Robin isn't in today and the store is quiet. Aka, it's the perfect opportunity for Eddie to come in with Steve's lunch, where they sit together and chat. No, he doesn't bring it every Wednesday like clockwork. And no, he isn't bringing along his own lunch so he can pretend it's a date or anything.

No – definitely nothing like that.

Even if there is some banter that some people (Robin) might describe as flirting.

It's just that he has to take what he can get lately when it comes to his kinda-sorta big, fat, dumb crush on Steve. Especially now that the guy is disappointingly incommunicado on their no-longer Sunday Night pizzas.

Steve insists he isn't dating anyone – and he sure is complaining about that fact enough. But, well...

Eddie does worry.

And he damn near panics at the sight of an empty Family Video. The store is eerily silent too as he steps inside and looks around.

"St – "

"– Oovie!"

Eddie jolts with a yelp as the babbling yell of what could only be the shrill tones of a whole-ass human child reverberates around him.

"Yes, buddy," comes Steve's voice from behind the counter, "Oh – well, maybe not Rambo."

Eddie tip-toes forward and places his hands on the counter before he peers over the edge, where he finds Steve surrounded by the parts of a dismantled VCR. In his lap is indeed a human child, a boy with chestnut brown hair who couldn't be more than two.

He doesn't know all that much about kids, really, but Eddie is pretty certain the little squirt shouldn't be waving around a videotape with such force Steve might get clomped in the head at any moment.

The boy yell-babbles again and Steve swerves away from a side swipe to his beautiful noggin.

"Okay, maybe we shouldn't play with this one," Steve says, gently placing his hand on the tape and giving it a light tug.

The boy squirms, and in doing so makes direct eye contact with Eddie. They both startle, and Eddie thinks if anyone was watching, they might say his eyes look as wide as the kid's staring up at him.

The boy points at Eddie and coos with a big, toothy grin.

"Stee!"

"Can you stop –" Steve grumbles, cutting himself off as the boy begins to tilt them sideways. He looks up and gasps, "Oh!"

Steve scrambles upright with the boy, who makes an (admittedly, adorable) wooshing sound as he is swooped up and bundled into a pair of burly arms that today appear to be bursting out of the confines of a navy blue polo shirt.

Eddie blushes, looking back at the boy in an attempt to regulate his heart rate.

"What's with the baby, Steve?" he says, trying to sound biting rather than flustered as Steve props the kid on his hip like it's second nature.

Steve takes the boy's hand and bounces him a little as he tries to encourage a wave, "You know Angie, my mom's best friend? This is her kid, George."

George finally waves and Steve grins, all proud in a way that makes Eddie's cheeks blush. Shit, he really wasn't prepared for something like this to happen today.

Or maybe like ever, really.

"George," he nods, offering a two-finger salute.

"Angie stopped by and realised she forgot something over at Melvad's," Steve explains, swaying now as George looks around the store, "So I'm taking care of little Georgie for a minute."

Georgie?

Eddie scrubs a hand over his face.

"I s-see," he splutters as he comes up for air.

"And we are fixing VCRs today, aren't we, Georgie?" Georgie tee-hees at that and oh goddamn it, now the little gremlin is trying to get his tiny, pudgy arms around Steve for a hug, "Then we're gonna pick a movie for Sunday Funday."

"Oovie!" Georgie cheers.

Wait.

"You're babysitting on Sundays?"

"Yeah," Steve shrugs before looking down at George with a fond smile, "I kinda like it, y'know?"

[rapplesart]

Random fic idea

Tim drake but instead of loosing his spleen he lost part of his leg.

Tim thought it was obvious he was missing his right leg from the knee down. It was a whole leg that was missing after all. Sure he was wearing a prosthetic made by Ra's' best people.

One he painfully earned after that crazy fucker made him fight a bunch of his assassins one legged in order to "proof himself as the true heir of the bat he saw in him" or something. So sure, the leg might be more advanced than most, and it imitated natural steps a lot easier and even made it possible to easily run without switching to a different leg. Truly it was a perfect leg be vigilante with. But he never even bothered to give it human like appearances.

But apparently the Fam didn't notice. When he returned with Bruce everyone was too reliefed to give Tim a closer look and it just never came up afterwards.

Tim thought they just didn't want to ask about it in a weird attempt of being polite or even caring. Bruce surely did enough research on how it happened on his own. The man spend the whole travel back to Gotham with Tim after all. Tim truly believed the world's greatest detective would have noticed his missing leg.

Except he didn't. Not if he interpreted the way they looked so incredibly disturbed by is nonchalant way of handlinh the boiling hot chemicals that landed on his metal leg. He just brushed it off, the battle continued and since nothing seemed to be injured no one pressed him when he said "Must've missed me after all"

Now, how do you deal with a family that didn't notice you're missing a leg? That's right you fuck with them.

First thing he did was buy himself a few more realistic looking prosthetic leg. It had to be custom made to fit his stump so it took a whole but it was a worthwhile investment.

The first one was Jason. Call it a twisted revenge for trying to kill him but Tim just really wanted him to be messed with the most. So one day when he knew it was only Jason and him on patrol he strategically set himself down to fall. Crunching some spaghettis to ass in a sickening way only to stand up and walk away as if nothing ever happened.... With his foot toned the wrong way around. Insisting on nothing being wrong and Jason being delusional whenever the older boy tried to get him to get medical treatment. He switched it up the whole evening, whenever he was out of sight he turned the fool right and wrong. Driving the guy insane.

Jason did not sleep well that night. He was also top weirded out and unsure if what he saw was real to talk about it with anyone else.

Then, he challenged dick to a flexibility contest seeing how far they han bend their knees and feet. Even Mr bones are a social construct gymnast Richard Grayson looked horrified as Tim stood there, food bend almost in half, knee twisted to the impossible and what looked lihe a bend in the middle of his leg. Dick claimed cheating except the thing that greeted him when he demanded Tim to puch up his pant leg to expose his trick was a normal looking leg. The first Robin did lots of stretches in the following weeks. His pride was hurt after all.

Finding a way to mess with Damian was a bit more difficult. The brat still made a bunch of harsh comments again and again and he really wasn't close enough with Tim to be easily gaslit. The kid was a trained assassin and was probably used to a bunch of weird shit considering everything Ra's. So Tim decided he could go a bit more gory on Robin than the others. So one night he sat in front of Damians room, in the dark hallway and waited till one of his pets passed him. Once Alfred the Cat came along he made some louder coping noise that would Definetly make the kid look out to check on his animals. It worked just as planned, Damian peeked out his door to see Tim, crosslegged and barefoot on the floor, seemingly cutting off his toe to feed the cat. In reality it was nothing more than a cat treat and carefully picked, animal safe food coloring.

The kid scremed at him, threatened to stab him, punched him real good for harming his cat and took off with said cat to find Alfred so the older man could check on the poor kitten. Of course not beforeaking sure Tim was in an adequate amount of pain on the floor, with his 'injured' food secured to the floor with another knife. Only to return with a worried Alfred on tow to see Tim, standing two whole bare feet with a confused expression and a bag of cat treats in the hall.

Tim got a broken nose for it but it surely was worth it. Especially once he quietly whispered a 'no one will ever belief you' to the kid in passing. He might have traumatised the boy a little but Tim fought it justified for all the attempted murder he suffered.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part one

Steve’s alone with fish guy, and it’s the perfect time to make his second attempt. For the first time Steve figures the guy must finally be relaxing, if only a tiny bit. The frozen peas were a massive hit, and maybe that’s helping. Being hungry like that must be really shitty, especially if it’s for a long time, like Steve suspects from the look of fish guy.

Maybe fish guy is starting to realize that this isn’t the labs under Starcourt any more. That Steve and his friends aren’t here to hurt fish guy.

Steve flicks another pea off into the water as he drinks his coffee; fish guy retrieves it in a flash, his eel like black tail easy to spot in the water, quickly coming back for more.

The kids keep calling him a merman - but he doesn't look like any cartoon or kids picture Steve's ever seen. His tail is too flat, for one, definitely more like an eel, plus there's no fins that Steve can see.

Steve offers him a handful of peas, carefully cupping them until fish guy has his hands cupped underneath, ready for them to be tipped in. They don’t touch, and Steve vaguely wonders if the guy will feel cold from the water. The skin of his fingers isn’t pruned like a regular persons would be, which makes sense since he’s a fish guy. Maybe he’ll feel clammy, or rubbery. Or scaly. Steve van very vaguely remember petting a stingray in a low tank at the aquarium once, surrounded by other kids. Might have been a field trip or something, but he can remember how surprised he was by the feeling of the mottled brown skin. Super rough, like sandpaper. Fish guy doesn’t look like he’ll feel like that either, though.

Fish guy eats his handful of peas and then looks back to Steve expectantly; or at least, that’s what he’d call it on a human person. It must be the same sort of thing though, right? The top half, at least, is built the same, right?

Steve’s down to his last handful of frozen peas; he’s already called Robin, she’s going to pick up a bunch of groceries of the green variety on her way over after her shift later. Also a few other bits, like carrots and bell peppers, to see if fish guy will try them.

Steve holds up a single pea between his thumb and pointer finger. Fish guy’s eyes track it from where he floats, a foot away from the ledge. Steve taps his chest, “Steve,” and then he points to fish guy.

Like last night, he comes a little closer, lifting out of the waster a little and then, cautiously points at Steve, he makes a noise that...kind of...sounds like ‘Steve’. His voice is raspy, and the word is kind of mangled, more of a sad ‘Steee,’ but near enough. It looks like he’s really trying, brow furrowed with concentration.

It’s not what Steve wanted, but Steve gives him the pea.

It’s overcast today, same as yesterday, and the day before. Blowy and cold. Steve doesn’t want to stay out here much longer, so he dumps the remaining peas into the water and then gets up and heads inside to wait for Robin.

Steve’s nearly at the door when he hears a splash and then a mournful, “Steeeeeeeeee.” and immediately regrets all of his life choices.

He sighs, and goes back to the pool, “yeah?”

Fish guy tilts his head, frowning, and then lifts his had out of the water, pointer finger and thumb a smidge apart...just like he’s holding an imaginary pea.

Well. Communication is definitely something they will be able to work on then. But Steve flaps the bag, showing the picture of the peas on the front, and the face that it’s very clearly empty, “all gone. Finished,” Steve makes a cutting motion in the air with the side of his hand, to indicate they’re done.

“Inied,” the fish guy manages cautiously.

“Yeah, finished.”

The fish guy watches him for a second, and then dips back down under the water, off too huddle in the bottom corner of the pool.

Steve wonders vaguely if he’s still hungry, but hopefully it won’t be that much longer before Robin gets here.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who really, genuinely likes celery.”

“Me neither, it’s like peppery water.”

“With hair in.”

Fish guy though, very clearly, likes the celery. He didn’t quibble over the cucumber either, that disappeared very quickly. He was cautious about the carrots, but with a little encouragement, and a lot of sniffing, he ate the bottom half of one, not seeming to like it so much at the thicker end.

Steve hands him an entire bell pepper, watches as fish guy takes a bite. He seems to like it, but then pulls a face, scraping desperately at the seeds on his tongue and spitting the whole mess out into the water. Steve can’t help laughing. Fish guy looks affronted. The look of genuine distaste and irritation on his face is very human and also hilariously funny.

“Oh Steve, I think you offended him,” Steve wipes the tears away to see that Robin is right, and fish guy has gone to huddle in the far corner of the pool, only his eyes peeking out. That’s got to suck, having no where to go. No where to hide; no privacy at all.

“This has got to suck for him; he’s stuck in an empty box,” Steve tries to imagine living his entire existence in a completely empty room; he can’t, not really.

“Well what can we even do with him? He seems to be freshwater, so the oceans are out. Even if we let him go in a lake, we don’t know what he understands about people, if he got caught…” she trails off. Steve doesn’t need any help imagining what could happen.

“I don’t know but...we need a plan...and he needs something to do.”

“What like, enrichment for his enclosure?”

It’s the first sunny day for a while. Steve had been getting resentful about it but a bit of warm sunshine is starting to make up for it already.

Steve looks uncertainly down at the bucket of dollar store toys he’s paid for. Doesn’t matter that the kids picked them all out, apparently Steve is still the money in this operation.

Plus gas; they had to travel further since the mall is now a fenced off ruin.

All the kids are on their knees at one end of the pool; all of them holding something. There’s a slinky (he can play with it along the edge), a Rubik’s cube (water proof, and we might be able to figure out if he can see color), a bucket, a plastic dog bowl (it’ll float, you can fill it with peas), a rubber duck, and a ball.

Fish guy, on the other hand, had retreated to the furthest corner he could, curled up into a ball, and stayed there.

Steve’s starting to suspect that the noise of the kids constant chatter and bickering is actually a bit too much for fish guy to handle, from the way he either hides or watches them wearily from the other end of the pool. If they move, he moves.

“Maybe if we spread out, then one of use will be close enough because he won’t have anywhere to go-”

“Absolutely not,” Steve tells Dustin, “that’s cruel, if he’s hiding it’s for a reason. Just let the stuff be and he will deal with it when he’s ready.”

He gets a little bit of whining from them, mostly Will and Dustin, if he’s honest, all the other kids seem to be really understanding.

The ball and the bucket they let go to float around in the water, and the kids soon loose interest and head off to cause trouble elsewhere.

Steve desperately wants to dip his feet in the pool, same as he would on any other day, but since there’s someone living in it, it feels kind of rude. Like he’d be knowingly walking mud into someone's house, or something.

Steve kneels at the same end of the pool the kids were at, he doesn’t want to startle fish guy by appearing right above him. If he comes to Steve or not should be his choice, but Steve has two bunches of celery and a dog food bowl filled to the brim with frozen peas, so he thinks his chances are pretty good right now.

He’s right, fish guy does come over, but his whole face is scrunched up and he misses the celery on the first try; it takes Steve an embarrassingly long amount of time to figure it out, even with the guy eating with his eyes pretty much closed.

It’s the first fully sunny day they’ve had, and the guy had been in a shitty artificially lit lab, and before that, presumably the Upside Down for his whole life.

It’s fucking bright out here.

And even as he takes his sunglasses off, Steve has no idea how to communicate this with fish guy.

Steve has the bowl of peas for leverage, but still. He shows them to fish guy, who, squinting, does come closer. And then Steve hands over the glasses. Fish guy, face all scrunched up, tilts his head, looking at them.

Steve takes them back, put them on, takes the off, and offers them again. Ever so carefully and slowly, fish guy takes the glasses. Steve knows fish guy is at least kind of smart; he’s confident he will figure this out. He’s proved correct pretty fast when fish guy holds them up so he can blink up through the lenses.

And then he...very carefully, almost comically carefully, slides them on.

He grins up at Steve, and Steve floats the dog bowl in the water, giving it a nudge.

Fish guy looks delighted.

Part Three

[hello-sweetheart]

You know that trope where Person A thinks Person B is just being nice but they’re actually flirting. What about the opposite? Person A misreading their behavior and being the only one falling impossibly in love.

Clumsy in Love Part 2

It’s hard to listen to Eddie talk about this guy the same way Steve wished he did about him. Eddie, already so full of life and words, doesn’t seem to need to take a breather between his praises.

“Can’t believe this guy is actually into me, did you see him? Oh my god!” He groans and smacks his palms against the steering wheel, literally bouncing in his seat.

The van swerves a bit to the left.

“He’s just my type, too. Those eyes, prettiest eyes that have ever graced human existence, and they were looking at me. Me! Wow! The darkest green— I don’t think there’s any precious stone that can compare actually.”

He beams at him and Steve’s traitorous heart still flutters like a wounded bird helplessly flapping its broken wing. Eddie is smiling so hard his cheeks must hurt, eyes crinkled at the corners and teeth on full display.

Steve will close his eyes at night and replay these words, pretending that this excitement and instant adoration is about him. That Eddie’s love-struck smile is for him.

“And, to top it off, he’s a geek. A fucking nerd. He actually knows DnD! What are the chances, Stevie? I’m no religious man, but an angel must have heard mine desperate pleas.”

His name is Adiel, Eddie’s perfect guy.

Steve spends that night feeling the need to cry, the hurt is right there at the base of his throat refusing to spill.

Steve kind of wishes he did, maybe letting everything out would leave him feeling empty instead impossibly full of heartache.

Adiel is blond, a dirty blonde that means he must’ve had light locks as a kid. Face slim and cheek bones prominent, but his features are soften by button nose. Maybe Eddie is right, he looks like the angels depicted in stained church windows, but whereas angels are depicted in white, Adiel wore exclusively black.

He wasn’t decorated in rings and chains like Ed, only a few silver piercings in his ears and a couple on his lips. But it was evident they had much in common, even just by looks. More than Steve could ever say about him and Eddie.

Over the next couple of weeks they share their music, intrinsically understanding what it means to one another.

Getting it.

Getting it the way that Steve never could, even with hours of Eddie breaking it down for him. Maybe Steve never understood, but he loved those moments shared between them. Wonders if Adiel cherishes those moments too. If he takes it for granted.

They share everything with each other and Steve hears every little detail gushed between sickly sweet sighs. He’s trying to be a good friend, to listen and share Eddie’s happiness, but something inside him grows bitter. Angry. He hates feeling this way.

“I met his friends already, they’re a really cool bunch. I really think you guys would get along. They know all the best spots for people like us. There’s a whole world out there, Stevie—“

Stevie. His breath stutters.

“Of people like us with places for us. We could take Robin and Vicky and be surrounded by people that won’t, that won’t think we’re… wrong. And who knows,” he nudges Steve’s side with a suggestive smile, “maybe you’ll meet the one there, huh Stevie?”

“Stop. Just, just stop!”

Steve doesn’t mean to yell. He just can’t take it anymore. Everything that has been building up inside him has reached a point where he just can’t. He pushes Eddie away from him who looks startled. Offended and bothered and confused.

“I don’t want to meet his friends, or least of all him. I don’t get it, okay! I thought—“

What did he think? That one day he would confess to Eddie or vice versa? That they’d kiss and go on double dates with Robin and Vicky? That he would fall asleep each night in love and loved? It seemed plausible at some point. That’s what hurts the most.

“Hey, Stevie—“

“Don’t call me that! You don’t get to call me that anymore.”

“What? Your name? You don’t want me to call you by your name?”

A bitter laugh, “yeah. My name from your mouth.”

“I, You’re not making any sense!”

Steve knows. He knows. But Stevie, Big boy, Ozzy… even his own name, can’t bear to hear them. Not from him. Can’t bare the way his heart squeezes.

Eddie’s looking at Steve with furrowed brows and down turned lips, standing still. Has Eddie ever been still before in his life?

Once. When he was still and pale and red. His chest gone quiet for the most terrifying seconds of Steve’s life.

Steve looks at him, his eyes burn. Steve’s breath from his own chest brought Eddie back to them. Eddie’s lungs still carry his desperation. His ribs healed but the cracks must still be there from the palm of his hands. He’s tasted Eddie’s blood before from his mouth—

He’s kissing him. Steve, dumb stupid in-love Steve, has his lips on Eddie’s once more, but this time they’re warm and full of life and his ringed hands are on him and,

They’re pushing him. Away.

“Eddie,” his sight is blurry, eyes hot, and breath stuttered. “I, it hurts. You with him. I can’t—I just can’t.

And Eddie looks, terrified, dark eyes searching Steve’s face. For what, he does not know. Sincerity, maybe. Truth. Maybe looking to see if he’s really shattered inside.

“I’m sorry, I… I didn’t…I don’t…”

And Steve?

Steve smiles. It’s watery and his lips quiver.

“I know.” And that’s the problem, isn’t it. It’s always the problem. “I know, Eddie. I’m sorry. It’s, it’s okay.”

Eddie leaves Steve there in the living room.

There’s still two cans of Coke half full on the coffee table but only one person left in the room.

Part one < 💛 > Part 3

Tagged: @bananahoneycomb @margaglitterdeath

[munsonsmixtapes]

I Can Help With That

rockstar!Eddie x bestie!fem!virgin!reader

summary: Eddie catches you reading fanfiction about him and decides to let your experience the real thing

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) fingering, oral (f receiving)

not proofread!

It wasn’t a secret that you had a huge crush on your best friend Eddie. You had been in love with him since you were kids and everyone knew. Well, everyone except Eddie, but he wasn’t exactly the most observant so you couldn’t blame him.

And you didn’t want him to know anyway. That was something you were going totally take to your grave. The whole thing was just so embarrassing for you and he definitely wasn’t the commitment kind of guy anyway. He usually just fucked women and let them leave, not wanting any attachment to them.

You supposed you couldn’t blame him since he was always traveling and didn’t have time for a relationship. And hey, the guy was only human. What was he supposed to do? Be surrounded by a bunch of beautiful women and not sleep with them when they offered?

You honestly weren’t sure how you came across it. You were just browsing the internet, looking to read about someone else when his name popped up. You were curious to say the least. You had no idea that people even wrote about Eddie in that way and thought it was hilarious, so obviously, you had to read it.

Then it got to the point where you were reading it every day, trying to find the best one to show him. What started out as a joke actually became not as much when you were actually enjoying what you were reading. You started imagining what it would have been like to actually be with him and it was getting out of hand.

You sat at your computer, another fanfiction pulled up and this one was different from the others. It wasn’t no longer soft and sweet. It was dirty. It was sexual with everything described on the page. You had read that kind of stuff before, but not about Eddie. Not about your best friend.

You were really getting into when you heard the door to your room open. You quickly minimized the page and turned to Eddie who looked almost unreal like always. With his leather jacket over his white t-shirt which was tucked into a pair of very ripped jeans that gave you a perfect view of his perfect thighs that you desperately wanted to get your hands on.

“What were you doing?” He asked, suspicious and you just put on a smile, trying to play it off.

“Nothing,” you shrugged, but Eddie just made a beeline for you. He spun your chair around and moved his hand to the mouse but you got there quicker, closing out the page completely.

“Oh, you silly girl,” he laughed. “You seemed to have forgotten that I can see your browser history.” He reached for the mouse and you grabbed it, holding it out of his reach as you rolled your chair away, the back of it eventually hitting the wall.

Eddie stepped over to you, resting his hands on the arm rests as he leaned so close to you that you could smell his breath. He looked like he was leaning in and you closed your eyes in anticipation only to open them and find Eddie at the computer, opening the last tab you had opened. You rolled your chair over, accepting defeat as you covered your face in embarrassment.

Eddie was a little shocked when he opened the page, but honestly wasn’t surprised. You read smut all the time. But wait a minute, was that his name? There it was again! You were reading smut about him? Since when?

“Why are you reading fanfiction about me?” The question wasn’t accusatory, more curious than anything.

“I was going to read about someone else, but then I saw your name and got curious. And then I was so determined to find one to read to you, but none of them seemed good enough.” Eddie knew he should’ve been weirded out, but he honestly just thought it was funny.

“So you’ve read these before?” He turned his face back towards the screen to read a little more.

“Yes,” you nodded. “But none like this, though.”

“Right,” he winked. “Of course not. But you like these though, huh?”

“I mean, I don’t know.” You did. Maybe a little too much.

“Do they get you hot?” His question caught you off guard, making you blush.

“What?”

“I bet they make you wet, huh?” How did he know that? It was as if he was psychic.

“Well-”

“Relax, babe. I’m just kidding.” You let out a sigh of relief. You’d die of embarrassment if he had actually been asking you that.

“Oh.”

“Unless they do actually make you wet.” You were so embarrassed that you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

“Um, maybe a little.” He just chuckled and leaned forward so his lips were right by your ear.

“Sweetheart, if you wanted to do this kind of stuff with me, all you had to do was ask.” His tone was teasing, but there was a hint of truth to his words.

“Really?” You didn’t quite believe him.

“Sure. Why read it when you have the real thing right here?”

“Eddie, this isn’t funny. If you’re going to make fun of me, I’d rather you just leave.”

“I’m not making fun of you. I’d love to give you the real thing if you’d let me.” He was being serious. He was actually offering to have sex with you and actually seemed enthusiastic about it. Was this all just some very real dream you had entered?

“You would?”

“If you want to.”

“I don’t know,” you shook your head. “I’ve just-I’ve never done anything before,” you reminded him and he just nodded.

“That’s okay. We don’t have to.” He stood up, but you grabbed his hand, preventing him from leaving.

“Please fuck me!” Your words came out much more needy than you intended and Eddie just looked at you with wide eyes before a smile broke out on his face.

“As long as you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” you nodded.

“And you can back out at any point.”

“I know.” He bent over the chair, his hands gripping the arm rests again. His face was so close to yours that you could make out every single detail. God, he was beautiful.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered and you nodded.

“Yes,” you responded, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. Eddie reached up and pulled your lip from your teeth with his thumb and let it settle back into place before, leaning in, pressing a featherlight peck to your lips before pulling away.

“What was that?”

“Relax,” he laughed. “I’m just warming you up.” He leaned in again and pressed another peck to your lips. Another. Another until he slotted his lips between yours, capturing them in the softest, sweetest kiss.

Assuming that he was uncomfortable leaning over like that, you stood up from the chair and wrapped your arms around his neck before going in for another kiss. It was like none you had ever experienced before. It was like he put full thought into each one, trying to figure out what you liked and what you didn’t.

His arms wrapped around your waist as his tongue licked along the seam of your lips. You opened up and he slid his tongue inside, letting it swirl around yours. It felt so good and you were surprised that you were already aroused when he hadn’t even done anything.

A sound that was foreign to you escaped your mouth and you pulled away, bringing your hand up to your lips to cover them in embarrassment. Eddie just laughed and pulled your hand away.

“There’s not need to be embarrassed, sweetheart,” he assured you. “Make as much noise as you want. In fact, I’d prefer it.” When you still looked unsure, he continued. “I’m serious,” he pecked your lips once more. “Be as loud as you want. There’s no such thing as being too loud.”

“So, you want me to make the noise again?”

“I’d actually prefer it.” With that, Eddie’s lips were on yours again and he took no time to stick his tongue into your mouth, swirling it around yours. You didn’t hold back that time, letting the moan fully escape your lips and felt Eddie’s boner against you as he pulled you closer.

His hands traveled down your back and slowly moved up your hoodie as he tested the waters to see if it was okay. Once you didn’t say anything, his hands moved up even more to your bra that he realized wasn’t there. The idea of you not wearing one made him even more hard and he decided that he needed to see your tits for himself.

He slowly lifted the bottom of your hoodie and you lifted your arms up so he had so trouble removing it. He let out a gasp as your hoodie hit the floor as he took in your naked upper half. He had really been missing out. God, you were so fucking perfect.

“Christ. You’ve been hiding these from me all this time?” He reached up to touch them, taking them in his hands before giving them a squeeze.

“Well, it’s not exactly normal to show your best friend your tits, is it?”

“And yet, here we are,” he smirked.

“Eddie, our friendship has never been normal.”

“That’s true. But seriously, you’re so fucking hot.”

“I know,” you nodded and it made him even more hard knowing that you were so confident in yourself. Soon, his lips were back on yours again, this time more rough as he took what he wanted from you.

His thumbs moved your nipples in a circular motion and you let out a moan at the foreign feeling.

“Feels so good, Eds,” you told him and he continued, wanting to hear more of those pretty sounds fall from your lips. His lips moved to your neck as he slowly laid you down on the bed, removing his jacket and shirt as he did so.

He attached his lips to yours once again, this kiss slow and sloven, as if he had all the time in the world, and you supposed he did. He brought your bottom lip between his and gave it a little suck, causing you to let out a whimper and you to get even more wet. Once he realized you liked it, he did it again, harder that time before taking it between his teeth and biting down gently.

“Fuck,” you moaned. “More.” He bit down even harder and you let out your loudest moan. As he bit and sucked your lip, his hand traveled down to your sweatpants. He slowly stuck his hand down the front of them, on the hunt for your pussy.

Once he found it, Eddie’s fingers lightly grazed it, warming you up for the main event. He slowly stuck two fingers inside of you and your back arched in pleasure, your eyes closing tight.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you, the only sounds that could be heard were your moans and the squelching of your slick as he moved his fingers in and out of your cunt. You were already experiencing more pleasure than you ever had and he hadn’t even fucked you yet.

“You like that, hon?” He asked as he pumped a little faster.

“So good, don’t stop.” He hooked his finger and found just the right spot, causing your legs to stretch out at the pleasure.

“Oh my god, Eddie, I think I’m gonna-”

Just as you said the words, you reached your first climax, screaming his name as you did so. Eddie removed his fingers from you and you sat up just in time to watch him slowly lick your slick from his fingers.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “Taste so good, sweetheart.”

“You can have another,” you told him, your confidence building.

“You let me finger you and now you’re going to let me eat you out? Well, sugar. It must just be my lucky day.” Eddie lowered himself onto his knees on the floor at the edge of the bed and grabbed you by the ankles, pulling you with him.

With your permission, he pulled down your pants and let out a dramatic gasp at the wet patch on your underwear. He then removed those as well and spread your legs, licking his lips at the sight of your sopping wet cunt.

“You did all of this for me?” He gasped. “Sugar, you shouldn’t have.” He draped a leg over each shoulder and pressed open mouthed kisses to your thighs, not wanting them to feel left out before he inhaled your scent, desperate for a taste. “You look good enough to eat and I’m starving.”

Eddie let his nose brush your cunt as he dove in and you let out a gasp, gripping the comforter underneath you as you got used to the foreign feeling. He then slowly licked a stripe from your slit to your clit, eliciting a whine from you.

“Oh, my god,” you moaned and Eddie pulled away for a second, just so he could speak to you.

“Taste so fucking good, sweetheart,” he groaned his voice all raspy, making you even more wet. “Swear I could do this all day.” He went in for more and licked and sucked as your back arched in pleasure, his fingers digging into your thighs as he lapped up every single bit of your slick.

His teeth grazed just the right spot and you swore that your vision went hazy at the pure euphoria you were experiencing. Was it always like that or was Eddie just that good? You were pretty sure it was the latter.

Your thighs pressed against his head as Eddie stuck his tongue fully inside you and your hands moved to his hair as you reached yet another orgasm, but he wasn’t done just yet.

His tongue swirled around your cunt and you yanked on his hair in reaction to the feeling. You hadn’t experienced anything like it and were sure that you definitely wanted him to do it again. It was too good to just pretend like it didn’t happen.

“Fuck,” you whined. “Right there.” He hit just the right spot to make a mewl fall from your lips and you fell back onto the mattress as you came down from your climax. Eddie gave your cunt one last lick before pulling his face away, the entire thing soaked in your slick, but he didn’t care. He’d be happy to lick it all up just to get another taste of you.

“God, could eat you for hours, baby. You taste heavenly.”

“Need your cock,” you said through labored breaths and Eddie was surprised. He thought you’d need a little break before you were ready.

“Baby, we just-”

“Eddie,” you said through grit teeth. “I need you now.”

“Alright, alright,” he pulled a condom from his wallet and quickly removed his jeans and underwear before rolling the thing onto his cock. He then lined himself up with your cunt and slowly inserted himself, both of you letting out moans at the sensation.

Eddie slowly thrusted into you since it was your first time and as good as it felt, you needed more. He wasn’t moving fast or harder enough.

“Harder,” you told him and he kept going slow, unsure of that was the right move for you. He didn’t want to hurt you, especially not on your first time.

“Are you sure?”

“Very fucking sure. Fuck me hard.” With that, Eddie pounded into you and you mewled in reaction.

“Oh,” you moaned. “Oh my god-fuck.”

“That’s it, honey,” Eddie responded. “Look at you, taking me so well. Look like a fucking princess underneath me.”

He continued to pound into you and the moans that left your mouth were enough to make him the hardest he had ever been. None of the other women he had fucked had been nearly as responsive to his moves as you had. You ate up every single thing and he loved that about you. That you took whatever he gave you and was nothing but grateful for it.

“Fuck, feel so good, princess,” he moaned, grabbing the onto your legs and wrapping them around his waist so he had more access to your pussy.

He thrusted and thrusted, eventually moving the fastest and hardest he could and that seemed to satisfy you. In return, Eddie was eating up all of your reactions, loving to hear your moans, desperate to have a recording of them because of how lovely they sounded.

Once you both reached your climaxes, Eddie pulled out of you and made you go pee while he disposed of the condom. He then joined you in the bathroom and the two of you got into the bed, not even bothering to put your clothes back on.

Eddie laid next to you and pulled you to him, bare skin to bare skin and pushed some your baby hairs off of your sweaty forehead. He then pressed a kiss to it and moved all the way down until he got to your lips, pulling you in for a sweet kiss.

He then pressed his forehead to yours, his brown eyes boring into yours. His hand moved leisurely up and down your arm and he licked his lips before he spoke.

“What if I told you that I wanted to do that more often?”

“I’d totally let you.” If it was anything like you had just experienced, you’d let do it anytime he wanted.

“Well, what if I told you that I wanted you to be the only person that I slept with?”

“Like a friends with benefits kind of thing?” What ever he was suggesting, you were down for.

“No, more like a boyfriend-girlfriend kind of thing.”

“I’d love that.” You rolled on top of Eddie and peppered his face in kisses while he let out numerous giggles. You then pulled him in for a kiss that left him breathless to solidify your relationship status. The first of many that night and for the rest of your lives.

[rootedinrevisions]

Worth More than Gold

SUMMARY: Glen Powell has asked you, his long-time friend and secret crush to be his date to the Golden Globes. The evening is filled with glitz, glamour, and the intoxicating spark of possibilities - both on the red carpet and behind the scene. And at the end of the day Glen may not have won the Golden Globe, but he just might have won something better—you.

A/N: Glen's look at the Golden Globes did things to me and gave me so many ideas. This will probably be the last fic I do for the GG and I'm going to try to get back on track with my WIPs and Requests.

As always I'd love to hear what you guys think! I love seeing your comments and reblogs! I seriously smile and get all giddy like a little kid when I get a notification from you guys so please let me know what I think.

WORD COUNT: 10.8k

TAGS: In Comments.

The hotel room was a whirlwind of chaos, a perfect reflection of Glen’s pre-event energy. The plush carpet was littered with tissue paper from a last-minute gift delivery, a shoe box sat abandoned near the bed, and the sleek black tie Glen had decided to forego tonight was somehow draped over a lampshade.

Glen himself was in the middle of the room, pacing in socks and dress pants, his phone pressed to his ear. “Listen, I’m just saying, Texas football isn’t a sport—it’s a religion,” he declared, his Texas drawl warming the edges of his words. “And if the Longhorns take the game against Ohio State this week, we’re coming for that national title.”

He paused, evidently listening to the journalist on the other end of the call, then grinned as he gestured animatedly with his free hand. “Yeah, yeah, I know you want to talk about the nomination. But did you see last weekend’s game? That last play in the second overtime?”

Across the room, you sat curled on the couch, scrolling through your phone but only half-paying attention to the screen. Watching Glen charm his way through an interview about his career or recent projects while managing to somehow steer the conversation to Texas football was nothing new.

“Cufflinks,” said Warren, the stylist ensuring Glen looked red-carpet ready. Warren stood to the side, arms crossed with the patience of someone who’d dealt with a dozen “Glen Powells” before.

“They’re in the pocket of your tux,” you called without looking up, your voice laced with playful exasperation. “Right where I told you I put them earlier.”

Glen froze mid-gesture, patting down his pants pocket first before moving to his jacket. When his fingers closed around the cufflinks, he shot you a sheepish grin. 

“You’re a lifesaver,” he mouthed, before turning his attention back to his call. “Listen, I gotta wrap this up. Can I call you tomorrow and we’ll finish this?” he asked the journalist.

With that, he hung up and turned to the room, raking a hand through his neatly-styled hair. “You believe this?” He said, grinning as he pocketed his phone. “I’m on deadline and trying to get out the door for one of the biggest nights of my life. And GQ wants to talk about…wardrobe and clothes and who I’m wearing.”

Warren arched a brow, adjusting the velvet Armani jacket on its hanger. “Wardrobe is why I’m here, Glen,” he said with a grin. “Now, if you could refrain from wrinkling this masterpiece, we might actually get you to the event looking like a winner.”

You snorted, rising from the couch. “Poor you,” you teased, brushing imaginary lint off your own shirt. “Must be so hard being adored by millions while wearing designer clothes.”

Glen rolled his eyes and snorted, stepping closer as the stylist fussed with his cummerbund. “Hey, I’m counting on you to keep me sane tonight,” he said, half-serious as he began to tug at the cuffs of his shirt. “You’re my buffer.”

“Buffer?” you repeated, arching a brow. “That’s what I’m here for? Not moral support—just as a human barrier between you and Hollywood?”

“Exactly,” he deadpanned, his grin widening. “You’re overqualified for the job, though.”

You stepped forward, brushing imaginary lint from his shirt, your fingers moving with practiced ease over the slick fabric. Glen watched you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. 

“Okay, be honest,” he said, tilting his chin slightly. “One button or two undone? What’s the vibe tonight?”

You paused, letting your gaze drop to the open collar of his shirt, catching a glimpse of the chest hair peeking out.

“One,” you said decisively, reaching up to fasten the second button. “Two buttons undone is too much chest hair. You’re going to a red carpet, not auditioning for a ‘70s cop show.”

He laughed, the rich sound filling the room as he placed his hands on his hips. “Hey, my chest hair is a crowd-pleaser,” he countered, feigning offense. “You don’t know how many compliments I’ve gotten on this chest.”

You rolled your eyes, holding back a laugh. “Please never say that to me again.”

He leaned in slightly, his grin widening. “Admit it. You’re just jealous you can’t pull this off.”

You rolled your eyes, adjusting the collar of his shirt with a playful tug. “Oh, please. If I wanted to show off chest hair, I’d buy a faux-fur vest and call it a day.”

“Savage,” he said, clutching his chest as though you’d wounded him. “You’ve got jokes tonight, huh?”

“Somebody has to keep your ego in check,” you replied, stepping back to inspect your work. “And you make it so easy.”

Glen chuckled, shaking his head as he tugged at the cuffs of his shirt. “Well, I’ll have you know, Warren said I was rocking this look,” he said, gesturing toward the stylist, who was busy folding tissue paper into one of the garment bags.

Warren didn’t even look up. “Warren also said to stop touching your shirt or you’ll wrinkle it,” he replied dryly, earning a snort from you and an exaggerated groan from Glen.

“Fine,” Glen said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “No more touching. But if I get to the carpet and I’m not turning heads, I’m blaming you.”

“Oh, you’ll turn heads,” you said, crossing your arms and giving him a once-over. “If not for the suit, then definitely for whatever ridiculous sound bite you give on the carpet. You’re physically incapable of being boring, remember?”

He grinned, stepping closer so the space between you was almost nonexistent. “Is that a compliment?” he asked, his voice dipping slightly.

You tilted your head, refusing to let him win. “Don’t get used to it, Cowboy.”

“Ah, there it is,” he said, leaning back with a laugh. “The nickname. I knew it was coming.”

You shrugged. “If the boots fit…”

Glen slid the custom velvet Armani tux jacket over his broad shoulders, the deep midnight-black fabric catching the light in subtle, luxurious waves. He tugged at the lapels, ensuring everything was sitting perfectly, before stepping back with an air of casual confidence.

“Well?” he asked, doing a quick spin on his heels, arms spread out theatrically. “What do you think? Too much? Not enough?”

You leaned back slightly, arms crossed, pretending to appraise him critically, but your expression betrayed you. Your eyes swept over him, taking in every detail—the sharp tailoring that hugged his frame perfectly, the structured cut of the jacket emphasizing his frame, and the way the silk shirt beneath hinted at the faintest trail of chest hair.

The stylist had done a remarkable job on his hair, taming the usual tousled locks into something sleek yet effortlessly natural. And the stubble—God, the stubble. He hadn’t bothered to shave completely, leaving just enough scruff to lend him a rugged edge that, if you were honest, made him look even more attractive.

The all-black ensemble was a bold choice, but it worked. The mix of textures—the smooth silk of the shirt, the luxurious velvet of the jacket, and the matte sheen of the tailored trousers—created a look that was polished yet unmistakably Glen.

“You clean up nice,” you finally said, a teasing smile pulling at your lips as you took him in from head to toe. “I mean, you almost look like a proper gentleman.”

“Almost?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow as he turned back toward the mirror, pretending to check himself out.

“Well, the stubble kind of ruins the whole gentleman thing,” you quipped, biting back a laugh.

“Ruin it?” Glen turned to face you again, his voice dripping with mock offense. “The stubble is the pièce de résistance, thank you very much.” He ran a hand over his jaw, grinning when he saw the way your gaze briefly followed the movement.

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep your composure. “Sure it is. But seriously, you look good, Glen. The best I’ve seen you look in a while.”

For a moment, his grin softened, and his eyes caught yours. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you replied, more sincerely this time. “You’re going to knock ‘em dead tonight.”

He held your gaze for a beat longer than usual, something unreadable flickering in his expression before he broke the moment with his signature charm. “Well, I have to. You’re the one who’ll have to be seen with me all night. Can’t embarrass you on your first red carpet.”

You glanced at the clock and froze. Less than an hour until you were supposed to be ready and out the door. Helping Glen finish getting ready had been fun—maybe a little too fun, you realized now, as time ticked away faster than you’d expected.

“I need to go get ready,” you said abruptly, stepping back and pointing toward the door.

Glen smirked, his hands casually adjusting the cuffs of his shirt. “Go on, Cinderella. Clock’s ticking.”

Without another word, you bolted for your room next door, already running through a mental checklist of what needed to happen to make yourself red carpet-ready in under an hour. Once inside, you kicked the door shut behind you and headed straight for the bathroom. Flicking on the light, you stared at your reflection in the mirror.

Okay. Hair. Makeup. Dress. You could do this. Right?

You pulled your hair loose from the lazy ponytail it had been in all day, raking your fingers through it and trying to decide if it would look better up or down. Your eyes darted to the neckline of the dress still hanging on the back of the closet door, but you didn’t have time to figure out how to make everything match. You groaned, pressing your hands to your face.

A sharp knock at the door interrupted your spiraling thoughts.

“Hello?” you called out, cautiously heading toward the door and cracking it open.

Standing there were two members of Glen’s glam squad—one holding a bag of makeup brushes and palettes, the other with a small suitcase of hair tools.

“Mr. Powell asked us to check on you,” the makeup artist said with a kind smile. “He thought you might be running behind.”

You blinked at them, momentarily speechless. “He... sent you?”

The hairstylist nodded. “He figured you might need a little help. Mind if we come in?”

You stepped aside to let them in, still processing Glen’s uncanny ability to predict you’d be panicking. “Sorry about the mess,” you admitted, glancing at the clock again. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

“Don’t worry,” the makeup artist said, already setting up her supplies on the bathroom counter. “We’ve got this. Can we see the dress? It’ll help us figure out the best look for you.”

You grabbed the garment bag from the closet and unzipped it, revealing the dress inside. You’d picked it out weeks ago, but standing there now, you suddenly second-guessed everything about it.

The hairstylist tilted his head thoughtfully, taking in the neckline and cut. “With this neckline, I’d suggest pulling your hair up—something elegant but not overdone. It’ll show off your shoulders and collarbone beautifully.”

You nodded, trusting his expertise. “That sounds perfect.”

“And for makeup,” the other stylist added, “we’ll keep it timeless—focus on your eyes, a little shimmer, and a soft lip. Nothing too bold, just enough to complement the dress and the hair.”

“Let’s do it,” you said, exhaling as you sat down.

With practiced efficiency, they got to work. The hairstylist began gathering your hair into an elegant style that framed your face while showcasing the neckline of the dress. Meanwhile, the makeup artist brushed soft gold tones onto your lids, added a touch of liner to define your eyes, and blended everything seamlessly. A quick swipe of lipstick finished the look.

You watched the transformation in the mirror, the tension slowly melting from your shoulders. By the time they stepped back to admire their handiwork, you felt like a completely different person.

“Done in thirty minutes, just like we promised,” the hairstylist said with a grin.

You stood, giving them both a grateful smile. “Thank you. Seriously, I wouldn’t have made it without you—or Glen, apparently.”

The makeup artist laughed. “He seemed pretty confident you’d need backup. Smart guy.”

“Yeah,” you said softly, thinking about his effortless charm and how much he looked out for you. “He really is.”

After the hairstylist and makeup artist left, you stood in front of the full-length mirror, a deep breath escaping your lips. You could do this.

You reached for the dress, still hanging from its garment bag, and carefully unzipped it. The soft fabric slid through your fingers as you pulled it off the hanger, feeling a flutter of nerves as you held it up in front of you.

The dress was simple, yet elegant, hugging every curve in a way that made you second-guess your choice. But it was beautiful.

With your heart racing a little, you slipped the dress on. You paused to glance at the mirror as you tugged the fabric up your body, hoping everything would fall into place.

But it didn’t.

The zipper snagged halfway up your lower back. You tugged a little harder, but it didn’t budge. Panic settled in your chest. You didn’t want to rip the fabric or make a scene, but there was no way to finish getting ready if you couldn’t zip the dress.

Your fingers fumbled for your phone, dialing Glen’s number before you could think twice. The seconds ticked by slowly, and your nerves only heightened with every ring.

“Hey, it’s me,” you said the moment he answered. Your voice trembled slightly despite your best efforts to sound calm. “I need help. The zipper on the dress is stuck, and I can’t get it up.”

“Don’t worry, I’m coming right over,” Glen’s voice was calm, reassuring. You could almost hear the smile in his tone.

The call ended quickly, and before you knew it, there was a soft knock at your door. You quickly pulled the front of the dress to your chest and peeked out, your eyes meeting Glen’s as you opened the door just a crack. His presence was as commanding as ever, but now, standing there, you felt exposed.

“Hey,” you greeted him, offering a sheepish smile.

“Hey,” he said softly, raising an eyebrow. “Need a hand?”

You nodded, opening the door wider for him to step inside.

As he entered, you turned, giving him full view of the situation. The dress clung tightly to your body, and you were sure your back looked exposed in the tight fabric. A slight blush crept across your cheeks as your fingers instinctively tugged at the fabric.

“Relax,” Glen said, his tone warm and teasing. He moved behind you and gently grasped the zipper. 

After a few tugs and a bit of effort, he managed to get it unstuck, smoothly pulling it the rest of the way up. The dress fit perfectly once it was zipped all the way.

Glen stepped back with a satisfied nod, patting your hip gently. “All good. You’re all set now.”

You took a deep breath, your nerves slightly eased but still there. With a nervous smile, you smoothed the front of your dress down, trying to calm yourself before glancing back at him.

“Do I look okay?” you asked quietly, suddenly unsure of how you appeared.

Glen gave you a slow once-over, his eyes lingering for just a moment longer than you expected. Then, his lips curved into a soft smile.

“You look amazing,” he said, his voice steady and sincere. “Seriously. You’re going to steal the show tonight.”

You couldn’t help but smile, the tension in your chest easing. Glen’s words meant more than you realized, and as he gave you that smile, it felt like everything was finally falling into place.

Once you were fully ready, feeling the weight of the evening ahead, Glen offered you a reassuring smile as he adjusted his jacket one last time. He gave you a soft nod, signaling that it was time to go.

Together, you left the suite, the sound of your heels echoing in the hallway as you walked side by side toward the elevator. Glen pressed the button, standing close enough to be a silent but steady presence. You couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly he moved—like he was born to own every room he entered, even though his demeanor was always so grounded.

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, and Glen stepped aside, letting you enter first. When you reached the lobby, the bustle of the hotel faded in comparison to the calm, quiet space Glen seemed to create around the two of you. He was the kind of person who moved with purpose, but never rushed—always thoughtful, always present.

As you made your way toward the entrance, he gave a quiet wave to a few people who greeted him, but he kept his focus on you, his hand close to your lower back as if guiding you through the crowd.

Outside, a sleek black car waited by the curb, the driver standing at attention. Glen held the door open for you with a courteous nod, his hand outstretched to assist you into the back seat.

You smiled, appreciating the little things—his attention to detail, the way he never made you feel like you were inconveniencing him. You slid into the seat, and as you did, Glen quickly followed, settling next to you with a quiet grace that was all him.

The driver closed the door, and the car began to move smoothly through the streets, the city lights reflecting off the tinted windows. The buzz of the evening began to settle into a comfortable rhythm, and Glen turned his attention to you with a soft look.

“You ready for this?” he asked, his tone light but sincere. He glanced down at your dress, the slight gleam in his eyes making you feel all the more seen. “You’re gonna turn heads tonight, no doubt about it.”

You smiled, trying to play it cool, but his words still made your stomach flutter. “I’m ready,” you said, your voice steady. 

The car glided through the streets, the hum of the engine and the soft clink of the streetlights outside giving you a sense of distance from the chaos of the night ahead. Your fingers nervously drummed on the fabric of your dress, your gaze flickering from the passing city lights to the reflection of yourself in the window.

Glen noticed the subtle tension in your posture and the way your fingers twitched, like they couldn’t quite settle. His sharp eyes, attuned to every little shift in your mood, moved over to you. He shifted closer, his hand reaching across the space between you with ease, brushing lightly over your fingers before gently taking your hand in his.

"You're going to be fine," he said, his voice low, teasing but gentle, as he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. His thumb brushed the back of your hand, smoothing away any remnants of tension. "Just smile and wave, Penguin. You’ve got this."

You couldn’t help but laugh at the nickname, the warmth of his hand in yours bringing a little bit of ease. “Penguin?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow, feeling the tension in your shoulders release with that soft chuckle.

He grinned at you, the kind of smile that melted any nervous edge. “Yeah, Penguin. You know—Madagascar. Smile and wave boys. Smile and wave.” He gave your hand a playful tug, the humor in his eyes lighting up.

You shook your head, but the tension you’d carried with you slowly began to melt. Glen had that way about him—without even trying, he made things feel easy, like you were exactly where you were supposed to be. His confidence was infectious, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to believe that you could pull this off.

The car hit a smooth turn, the soft hum of the tires filling the silence. You glanced at Glen, his easy grin still in place, his hand steady in yours. There was something about his presence—something grounding, comforting. Without thinking, you leaned your head against his shoulder, letting out a soft sigh as you let the last bits of tension drain away.

"Thank you," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Glen glanced down at you, his expression softening. He didn’t move, didn’t shift away—he just stayed still, letting you rest there. His thumb continued its soothing motion across the back of your hand, and he tilted his head slightly toward yours.

"Anytime," he replied, his voice warm and steady. "You know I’ve got you."

For a moment, the world outside the car faded away. It was just the two of you, a quiet moment that reminded you why Glen was your best friend. His support, his calm energy—it was all you needed to take a deep breath and believe in yourself again.

As the car slowed to a stop, signaling your arrival at the red carpet, you felt ready. Maybe it was the way Glen always knew how to bring you back to yourself, or maybe it was just the fact that he was there beside you, exactly where he always seemed to be when you needed him most.

You stole a quick glance at Glen, catching the way his gaze softened as he looked back at you, his hand still comfortably wrapped around yours.

“Hey,” he said, the tone shifting just a little, serious but with the same undertone of care. “You’re gonna be great, okay? And if you need me to do anything, I’m right here. Just... be you.”

Glen gave your hand one last squeeze, a reassuring pressure that grounded you, and you suddenly felt like you could take on the world.

The driver opened the door, and the bright lights of the red carpet began to stretch ahead of you, already swirling with flashes and faces, the hum of excitement palpable in the air. Glen leaned toward you, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers grazing the smooth skin of your neck.

“You’re gonna shine tonight,” he said quietly, his voice filled with confidence, making you believe it for the first time.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself, then flashed him a grin. “Thanks, Glen.”

He winked. “Anytime, Penguin. Let’s go make some memories.”

With that, you stepped out of the car, Glen’s hand still firmly in yours, ready to face whatever the night would bring—with him by your side, you felt ready for anything.

The roar of the red carpet hit you the moment you stepped out of the car. A wall of flashing lights and the constant hum of voices calling out names created a dizzying cacophony. For a second, you froze, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. The chaos seemed endless, but Glen’s steady hand on the small of your back was the anchor you needed.

“Stay close,” he said quietly, his voice warm and reassuring, almost lost in the noise. He guided you forward with a gentle pressure, his touch never faltering.

Reporters shouted his name, cameras clicked furiously, and fans called out from behind the barriers. Glen’s demeanor shifted effortlessly, the easy confidence you admired about him coming to life under the scrutiny. But even as he navigated the chaos like a pro, his focus never strayed far from you.

When a particularly eager photographer stepped too close, Glen instinctively pulled you in, lacing your arm through his. The motion was protective yet natural, as though he’d done it a thousand times before.

He leaned in slightly, his breath brushing your ear as he whispered, “You doing okay so far?”

You nodded, the nerves still simmering but far less overwhelming with Glen beside you. “Yeah. It’s just... a lot.”

He chuckled softly, his fingers giving your arm a light squeeze. “It’s always a lot. Just keep smiling and don’t trip. I’ve got the rest covered.”

Moments later, you were ushered to the line of reporters waiting for interviews. Glen kept you close, his hand returning to your back as he led you toward the first microphone. The journalist’s attention immediately shifted to him, questions about his latest project firing off one after another.

“This is Glen Powell, looking dapper as always! Who’s your stunning guest tonight?” one reporter asked, her eyes flicking to you with interest.

Glen grinned, that signature charm lighting up his face. “This,” he said, his voice full of pride, “is the best friend who keeps me sane.” He glanced at you, his expression softening as if to emphasize his words.

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks as the reporter laughed. “Keeping Glen Powell on track sounds like a full-time job!”

“You have no idea,” you replied, finding your confidence in the moment. Glen chuckled beside you, his presence like a shield against the overwhelming spotlight.

The interviews continued, with Glen effortlessly steering the attention toward his projects while making sure you felt included. Whenever he wasn’t speaking, his hand either rested lightly on your back or your arm stayed looped through his. The gesture was subtle, but it kept you grounded, a quiet reminder that you weren’t alone in this.

In a rare lull between interviews, Glen turned to you, his expression softening as the frenzy of the red carpet seemed to momentarily fade into the background.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low, almost drowned out by the noise around you.

You looked up at him, your heart still racing from the whirlwind of the evening. 

“Hey,” you replied, a little breathless.

He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair that had fallen out of your updo from your face, his fingers lingering just slightly longer than necessary. His touch was light, yet it sent a wave of warmth through you. His eyes searched yours, the usual glint of mischief replaced with something quieter, more sincere. “You okay?”

The simple question held weight, as if he wasn’t just asking about the moment but something deeper. You nodded, your voice catching slightly as you said, “Yeah. Thanks to you.”

His lips quirked into a soft smile, his hand dropping back to his side, though the warmth of his touch seemed to linger. “Good. Can’t have my Penguin falling apart on me now.”

The moment hung between you, brief but charged with an unspoken connection that neither of you dared to address. Then the chaos of the red carpet surged back to life, pulling you both out of it.

“Ready to keep going?” Glen asked, his tone light again as he gestured toward the next line of reporters.

You took a deep breath, straightened your shoulders, and smiled. “Let’s do it.”

With your arm resting gently on his, Glen led you forward, his confidence bolstering your own. And as the night unfolded, you realized that no matter how overwhelming the evening became, you’d be okay—with Glen by your side.

The ballroom was a masterpiece of elegance, bathed in soft, golden light with tables draped in white linens and adorned with extravagant floral centerpieces. Each table bore name cards in ornate calligraphy, indicating an impressive roster of directors, actors, and other Hollywood heavyweights.

Glen pulled out your chair for you before taking his seat beside you, leaning in briefly to whisper, “You’ve got this. Just be yourself.”

You looked at Glen with a soft smile. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Powell.”

Within moments, the table began filling with familiar faces. To your left sat Richard Linklater himself, his unassuming charm making you feel more at ease than you’d expected. Across the table, a notable actress you’d only ever seen on-screen chatted animatedly with Glen, who was effortlessly charismatic as always.

“Glen,” Richard said with a warm smile, his Texan drawl coming through as he gestured toward you. “You didn’t introduce me to your lovely guest.”

Glen straightened, the corners of his mouth tilting upward as he turned to you. “Richard, this is the best friend who keeps me sane—and who’s also had to deal with my Dazed and Confused impression far too many times.”

You laughed lightly, shaking Richard’s hand. “It’s true. If I hear him say, ‘Alright, alright, alright,’ one more time, I might disown him.”

Richard chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “A classic never dies, though, does it?”

“I suppose not,” you conceded with a grin.

The quick banter caught the attention of the others at the table, who joined the conversation with playful remarks of their own. You held your own with ease, even managing to get a genuine laugh out of the actress across from you after a comment about the absurdity of some press junket questions.

Glen, sitting beside you, watched the exchanges with a kind of quiet pride, his gaze lingering on you whenever you spoke. At one point, he leaned closer, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “You’re killing it. Remind me again—why am I not bringing you to all of these things?”

You smirked, taking a sip of water to hide the warmth creeping into your cheeks. “Because you know I’d upstage you.”

“Touché,” he said with a soft laugh, nudging your shoulder playfully.

As the dinner continued, Glen made sure to include you in every conversation, subtly steering the spotlight toward you when someone asked about his current projects. You found yourself talking about Glen’s work ethic and how he somehow managed to juggle it all without losing his sense of humor.

“Sounds like you know him pretty well,” Richard observed with a knowing smile.

“I sure hope so after I’ve put up with him for all these years,” you replied, glancing at Glen. “Someone has to keep him humble.”

The table erupted in laughter, and Glen shook his head, though the unmistakable warmth in his expression betrayed how much he loved every second of it.

When dessert was served—an artfully plated creation that was almost too pretty to eat—Glen leaned in once more, his tone playful but sincere. “See? Told you you’d be great.”

You gave him a sidelong glance, a smile tugging at your lips. “Not bad for someone who almost didn’t make it out of the hotel room.”

“Hey,” he said, his voice softening, “you belong here, you know.”

The weight of his words settled between you, a quiet affirmation that carried more meaning than the playful banter that had preceded it. You nodded, the nerves you’d been holding onto finally beginning to ease.

The awards show was nothing short of spectacular, a seamless blend of glamour, artistry, and showmanship. The host kept the audience entertained with clever quips and light-hearted jokes, while presenters took the stage to announce the winners in a variety of categories. The room buzzed with energy as names were called, winners delivered heartfelt speeches, and cameras panned over the crowd of celebrities.

Sitting beside Glen, you couldn’t help but notice how his leg bounced slightly under the table, a telltale sign of his nerves. Despite the outward appearance of ease he projected, you knew him well enough to see through it. Every now and then, his hand brushed his jawline, the slight stubble catching the light, as he glanced at the stage and back at you with an almost imperceptible smile.

You leaned closer to him during a quieter moment. “How are you holding up?” you asked softly, your voice barely audible over the applause filling the room.

“Better with you here,” he replied, his tone casual but sincere. The weight of his words sent a gentle warmth through you, grounding you as much as it did him.

As the night progressed, Glen laughed at the host’s jokes and applauded the winners, though you could feel his anticipation building as his category grew closer. 

The glitz and chatter around you seemed to blur as the presenter finally took the stage to announce the nominees for Best Performance by an Actor in a Motion Picture - Musical or Comedy. 

You felt Glen shift in his seat, his back straightening as his name was called alongside the other nominees. His hand brushed his thigh, and you noticed him take a deep breath, holding it for a moment before letting it out slowly. Instinctively, you leaned in just enough so your shoulder lightly pressed against his, a silent reminder that you were right there with him.

The presenter opened the envelope, the seconds stretching impossibly long. “And the award goes to... Sebastian Stan!”

The room erupted into applause as Sebastian rose from his seat, making his way to the stage. You clapped along with everyone else, but the knot of disappointment in your chest was impossible to ignore. Letting out a small, defeated breath, you glanced over at Glen.

He was smiling politely, clapping for Sebastian, but you saw the flicker of disappointment in his eyes. The kind of flicker only someone who truly knew him could catch. Others at the table offered their own words of encouragement, but Glen only nodded politely, his attention still half-focused on the stage.

Without thinking, you leaned closer, your voice low and meant just for him. “You’re still the most talented guy in the room.”

You reached over, resting your hand gently on his knee under the table, offering him the kind of comfort words alone couldn’t provide. For a moment, his gaze dropped to your hand, then back to your face. A small, grateful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as his hand briefly covered yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice soft but full of meaning.

Throughout the rest of the show, Glen leaned into your presence, subtly relying on you to keep him grounded. You noticed the way his body gradually relaxed, the tension in his shoulders easing as the night continued. 

When another winner gave a particularly heartfelt speech, Glen turned to you with a quiet chuckle. “At least I don’t have to worry about tripping on the way to the stage.”

You laughed softly, the sound drawing out a more genuine smile from him. “See? There’s always a silver lining.”

By the time the final award was announced and the audience began filtering out of the theater, Glen seemed more at ease. 

As the two of you stood to leave, he placed a hand on your back, guiding you through the crowd. “Thanks for keeping me sane tonight,” he said, his voice low but warm.

“Always,” you replied with a smile, feeling the unspoken connection between you deepen as the evening came to a close.

The after-party was everything you expected it to be: glamorous, extravagant, and a little overwhelming. The main Golden Globes after-party felt less like a celebration and more like a carefully orchestrated networking event. The room was packed with A-list celebrities, producers, directors, and journalists, each armed with a drink in one hand and a carefully curated smile.

Music thumped in the background, but it barely registered over the hum of conversations and the clinking of champagne glasses. Glen stayed by your side at first, introducing you to a few people here and there. You exchanged pleasantries with actors whose faces you recognized from the big screen and smiled politely at directors whose names you tried not to forget. 

But before long, Glen was pulled away, whisked from one conversation to the next like the star of the evening. You watched as he posed for pictures, his easy charm making every interaction look effortless. He’d glance back at you occasionally, offering a reassuring smile or a quick wink, but you could tell even he was beginning to feel the strain of the crowd.

You nursed a drink at the edge of the room, trying to stay out of the way while still keeping Glen in your sights. It was easy to lose track of time amidst the chaos, but the constant flow of strangers and small talk started to take its toll. The energy in the room felt electric and draining all at once, and you found yourself wishing for a quieter corner to catch your breath.

After what felt like hours, Glen appeared at your side, his hand lightly brushing your arm to get your attention. 

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice cutting through the noise around you. “This is… a lot, huh?”

You nodded, letting out a small laugh. “It’s a little overwhelming. How are you holding up?”

“I’ve smiled so much tonight my face might be stuck this way,” he joked, though there was a hint of exhaustion in his eyes. He glanced around the room, then back at you. “What do you say we head to my party? I think I’ve shaken enough hands and posed for enough pictures to last a lifetime.”

The suggestion was like a lifeline, and you didn’t hesitate to agree. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Glen’s shoulders relaxed visibly at your answer, and he gave you a small, grateful smile. He offered you his arm, the gesture both protective and grounding as he guided you through the crowd toward the exit. Despite the noise and flashing cameras still lingering near the doorway, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief as you stepped out into the cool night air.

The car ride to the rooftop bar was quiet, a welcome change from the chaos of the Golden Globes after-party. Glen leaned back against the seat, his shirt now unbuttoned to a second button and the faintest hint of exhaustion in his expression.

You glanced at him, smiling softly. “You know, most people would just go to bed after a night like this. Not go to another party.”

Glen chuckled, his head turning toward you. “What can I say? I’m not most people.”

When the car pulled up to the rooftop bar, Glen stepped out first, turning back to offer you his hand. “C’mon. Let’s go see everyone.”

The rooftop bar was stunning, its perimeter lined with fairy lights that cast a warm, golden glow. The city skyline sparkled in the distance, and the faint hum of music drifted through the air. Glen had rented the entire space, and as the two of you stepped inside, you were greeted by the cheerful buzz of conversation.

His parents were the first to spot you, their faces lighting up as they hurried over to greet Glen with warm hugs and congratulations. 

His mom pulled you into an embrace as well, her voice filled with genuine affection. “You look stunning tonight, sweetheart. And thank you for taking care of our boy out there.”

“Always,” you replied with a smile, feeling the ease that came with being around Glen’s family.

You scanned the room and spotted Leslie, Glen’s younger sister, waving excitedly from across the bar. She was all smiles as she made her way over, throwing her arms around you in a hug. 

“It’s been forever!” she exclaimed, pulling back to give you a once-over. “You look amazing! And that dress—ugh, you’re killing me.”

“You’re one to talk,” you teased, taking in her own dress. “You look incredible.”

Glen was quickly pulled into conversations with friends and other guests, his charm and warmth on full display as he moved through the room. You stayed behind with Leslie, the two of you settling into a quieter corner of the bar.

“So,” you said, leaning in conspiratorially. “Tell me everything about the engagement. I need details.”

Leslie’s face lit up, and she launched into a detailed recounting of the proposal—how her fiancé had asked, the secret planning, how he included her friends and family in on the surprise. She showed you the ring, a design that perfectly suited her, and the two of you gushed over wedding plans.

“I’m thinking late spring,” Leslie said, twirling her glass of wine between her fingers. “Something outdoors, simple but elegant. Glen keeps trying to offer to pay for everything, but I want to keep it low-key.”

“That sounds perfect,” you said, smiling. “And knowing Glen, he’ll find a way to contribute whether you want him to or not.”

Leslie laughed, nodding. “Oh, I know. He’s the best, though. We’re lucky to have him.”

“Yeah, we really are.” Your gaze drifted across the room to where Glen was laughing with a small group of friends, his easy smile making your own lips curve upward. His hand was resting casually in the pocket of his suit pants.

“You’ve got that look again,” Leslie said, a teasing lilt in her tone.

You blinked, snapping your gaze back to her. “What look?”

She grinned knowingly and nudged your arm with her elbow. “The ‘I’m totally into Glen but I’ll never admit it’ look.”

Your eyes widened, heat rushing to your cheeks. “What? That’s ridiculous,” you said quickly, trying to laugh it off. “You’re crazy.”

“Uh-huh,” Leslie said, leaning back against the bar with a smirk. “Sure I am.”

You rolled your eyes, determined to brush off her teasing. “He’s my best friend, Les. That’s-” But before you could finish your sentence, Glen glanced over at the two of you. His eyes found yours across the room, and when he smiled—soft, warm, and undeniably genuine—you felt your words falter. 

You didn’t even realize you had stopped speaking until Leslie let out a low chuckle.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, barely containing her laughter. “You’ve got it bad.”

Realizing what just happened, you tore your gaze away from Glen, your face burning. 

“I do not,” you muttered, but the weak protest only made Leslie laugh harder.

She shook her head, her grin widening. “You’re adorable when you’re flustered. Honestly, I’ve suspected this for years, but that little moment right there? Total confirmation.”

“Okay, enough,” you said, waving your hands as if to physically push the conversation away. “Let’s focus less on your brother and my nonexistent love life. Let’s get back to your wedding.”

Leslie just smirked, clearly not buying your denial. “Fine, but for the record? He’s totally into you too.”

You gave Leslie a confused look, followed by a doubtful laugh. “Yeah, right?” you said, your voice tinged with disbelief.

Leslie raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by your self-doubt. “Why do you think he wouldn’t be into you?” she asked, crossing her arms as if she were gearing up to debate.

You sighed, glancing down at your drink. “I mean…look at him,” you said, gesturing vaguely in Glen’s direction. “He could have literally anyone he wants. Models, actresses, anyone. And I’m just…” You trailed off, shrugging.

Leslie tilted her head, studying you with a knowing smile. “Just what?” she pressed.

“Just me,” you finished weakly, feeling a little silly for saying it out loud.

Leslie let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Okay, first of all, that’s ridiculous. Second of all—” She paused, leaning in slightly for emphasis. “You’re the one he asked to be his date tonight. Not a model, not an actress, you.”

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the truth of her words. “That’s just because we’re friends,” you said, though your voice lacked conviction.

“Friends,” Leslie repeated, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Right. Because friends definitely look at each other the way he looks at you.”

You felt your cheeks heat up again. “He does not look at me any type of way,” you insisted, but Leslie wasn’t buying it.

She smirked, nodding toward Glen, who was now making his way across the room in your direction.

“Sure he doesn’t,” she said, her voice teasing. “But just in case you’re still in denial, why don’t you pay attention when he gets over here? You’ll see what I mean.”

Before you could respond, Glen reached the two of you, his presence immediately drawing your attention. 

“Hey,” he said, flashing that easy smile of his. “Am I interrupting something, or can I steal her for a bit?”

Leslie’s grin widened as she gave you a pointed look. “Not at all,” she said sweetly, stepping aside. “She’s all yours.”

You shot her a subtle glare, but Leslie just winked at you before turning to join the rest of the group. As Glen’s attention shifted back to you, your heart did that annoying fluttery thing it always seemed to do when he was around.

“You okay?” he asked, his gaze flicking over your face as if checking for any signs of discomfort.

“Yeah,” you said, forcing a smile. “Just catching up with Leslie.”

“Good,” he said, his smile softening. “She’s been excited to see you. I think she’s secretly more interested in hanging out with you than me tonight.”

You laughed, the sound helping to ease the tension swirling in your chest. “Well, to be fair, I am pretty great,” you teased, falling back into your usual banter with him.

“Can’t argue with that,” Glen said, his tone light, but there was something in his eyes that lingered a little too long, something that made your breath catch just slightly.

The atmosphere shifted subtly as the music transitioned to something slower, a beat just mellow enough to set a softer, almost romantic mood. The chatter in the room seemed to quiet slightly, replaced by the rhythmic sway of the melody. Glen glanced toward the small dance floor, where a few of his friends were starting to pair off, and then turned back to you.

“Come on,” he said, extending a hand toward you, his smile warm and inviting.

You shook your head immediately, taking a small step back. “You know I don’t dance,” you reminded him, your voice firm but playful.

His grin only widened, clearly undeterred. “And you know I don’t take no for an answer,” he teased, stepping closer and gently taking your hand before you could protest further.

“Glen,” you said, a hint of exasperation in your tone, but he was already pulling you toward the dance floor.

“Relax,” he said with a laugh, glancing back at you. “I’ll lead. All you have to do is follow.”

You sighed in resignation, realizing there was no escaping this. When you reached the dance floor, you placed a hand on his shoulder, your fingers brushing against the soft fabric of his dress shirt. He wrapped an arm securely around your waist, pulling you just close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him.

“You’ve done this before,” he said lightly as he started to guide you to the rhythm of the music.

“Once or twice,” you admitted, though you still felt slightly self-conscious. “But I’m warning you—I’m not great at it.”

“You’re doing fine,” he assured you, his voice low and steady, as if the rest of the room didn’t exist.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Leslie standing by the bar. She was watching you with an unmistakable smirk, her arms crossed in triumph. When your eyes met hers, she gave you a knowing look, the kind that said, See? Told you so.

You rolled your eyes at her and shook your head, trying to silently tell her to knock it off. Glen noticed the exchange, his brow furrowing slightly as he glanced over at Leslie and then back down at you. 

“What am I missing?” he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.

“Nothing,” you said quickly, though your cheeks were already starting to warm.

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” he said, his tone teasing now. “What’s going on between you two?”

“Leslie’s just…being Leslie,” you said vaguely, hoping to leave it at that.

But Glen wasn’t letting it go. He tilted his head, a slow smile spreading across his face as realization started to dawn on him. 

“Wait a minute…” he said, his gaze narrowing slightly. “Is she messing with you about something?”

“Not really,” you said, trying to sound casual.

“Not really?” he repeated, clearly unconvinced. His eyes flicked back toward Leslie, who was now openly grinning at the two of you. “Oh, she’s definitely messing with you about something,” he said with a laugh.

You groaned, your head dropping slightly as you muttered, “I’m going to kill her.”

Glen chuckled, his hand on your waist giving a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” he said, his tone playful but his smile soft.

For a moment, you forgot about Leslie entirely, your focus shifting back to Glen as you moved together in time with the music. His gaze lingered on you, his expression unexpectedly tender, and you felt your heart skip in a way that made you wonder if Leslie might actually have a point after all.

As the slower song faded out, you felt a moment of relief. But then the next song started, and your heart sank a little as the unmistakable notes of a love ballad filled the air. The kind that spoke of longing and intimacy, the kind that made you suddenly hyper aware of the fact that you were still in Glen’s arms.

You glanced up at him, your lips parting to excuse yourself, but before you could step away, his hand on your back shifted, a gentle but deliberate pressure that kept you in place.

“Stay,” he said softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“Glen, I—” you started, already shaking your head. There was no way you could dance to a love song with your best friend. It felt too…loaded.

“Just one more,” he murmured, and when your eyes met his, whatever protest you had ready fell away. There was something in the way he looked at you—something unspoken but undeniable. It wasn’t just a friendly look. It was softer, deeper, and for a moment, it left you breathless.

You nodded, barely, and he smiled—just a small, private curve of his lips that made your stomach flip.

He pulled you just a little closer this time, close enough that your chest brushed against his. The hold on your back shifted, his hand sliding just slightly lower, resting at the curve where your back met your waist. It wasn’t inappropriate—just enough to feel a little less like friendship and a little more like something else.

Without thinking, you leaned into him, your cheek resting lightly against his chest. His warmth was comforting, grounding, and you closed your eyes for a moment, letting yourself get lost in the rhythm of the song and the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

You felt him tilt his head, the faintest brush of his cheek against the top of yours. It was such a small gesture, but it sent your heart into a quiet frenzy, a rhythm that seemed to echo in time with the music.

Neither of you said a word as you moved together, swaying gently to the melody. The first verse passed, then the chorus, and you couldn’t help but notice how natural it felt to be here, like the rest of the world had melted away.

The song came to an end, the final notes fading into a hum of conversation and clinking glasses around you. Glen didn’t move right away, and for a moment, neither did you. You stayed in his arms, feeling the warmth of his hand still pressed against your back, the steady beat of his heart against your cheek.

But then someone called his name from across the room, breaking the fragile bubble that had surrounded you both. Glen’s arm slipped away, though his hand lingered on your elbow for a second longer than necessary.

“I’ll be right back,” he said softly, his eyes lingering on yours, as if reluctant to leave.

You nodded, offering a small smile, and watched as he crossed the room to greet a new arrival. The absence of his touch left you feeling untethered, a sudden awareness of just how much you’d let yourself melt into him during that dance.

Needing a moment to collect yourself—and maybe something stronger than a moment of quiet—you made your way to the bar. You ordered a glass of wine and took a steadying sip, trying to push the last few minutes out of your mind.

Of course, Leslie found you before you even made it halfway through your drink.

“So,” she started, leaning casually against the bar with an unmistakable smirk. “That was…something.”

You rolled your eyes, though you could feel the blush already creeping up your neck. “Don’t start.”

“Start what?” she asked innocently, though her grin was anything but. “I’m just saying, I don’t think I’ve ever seen my brother look at someone like that. Or hold someone like that. Or—”

“Leslie,” you warned, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed your attempt at composure.

She laughed, clearly enjoying herself. “I’m just saying, for someone who insists she doesn’t dance, you looked awfully comfortable out there dancing with my brother.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” you replied, taking another sip of your wine in a futile attempt to drown your nerves.

“Doesn’t it?” she countered, raising an eyebrow. “Because from where I was standing, it looked like something more.”

You shot her a sharp look, but she just shrugged, still grinning.

“Relax,” she said, nudging your arm playfully. “I’m not about to make a big announcement or anything. But if you don’t see it yet…” She trailed off, giving you a knowing look before gesturing subtly toward Glen, who was still across the room, laughing with a small group of friends.

You followed her gaze despite yourself, and your heart gave a traitorous little lurch at the sight of him. His smile was easy and charming, but every now and then, his eyes flicked toward the bar, as if checking to see if you were still there.

“See what I mean?” Leslie said softly, pulling your attention back to her.

You shook your head, trying to play it off. “You’re reading into things.”

“Am I?” she challenged, her tone light but her expression serious. “Because I’ve known Glen my whole life, and I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. So, maybe it’s time you stop convincing yourself it’s all in your head.”

Her words hit harder than you expected, and you found yourself speechless, staring down into your glass of wine as if it held the answers you were so desperately trying to avoid.

Leslie let the silence linger for a moment before giving your arm another playful nudge. “Just think about it, okay?”

And with that, she pushed off the bar and disappeared back into the crowd, leaving you alone with your swirling thoughts—and the undeniable truth you were no longer sure you could ignore.

You stepped away from the bar, glass of wine in hand, and gravitated toward a quieter corner of the rooftop. The laughter and conversation from the party grew softer with every step, the music fading into a pleasant hum in the background. A gentle breeze brushed against your skin as you approached the railing, the Los Angeles skyline glittering like a sea of stars before you.

You leaned against the cool metal and took a slow sip of your wine, your thoughts drifting back to Leslie’s words. Was she onto something? No, she couldn’t be. Glen was your best friend, the one constant in your life through every twist and turn. You would know if he felt something for you… right?

But then again…

You sighed and rested your elbow on the railing, pressing your glass lightly to your lips. Leslie had known Glen her entire life. If anyone could read him, it was her. And the way she spoke—like she’d been holding onto this knowledge for a while—left you with an uncomfortable sense of doubt.

Could she be right? Could you really have missed something that big?

The sound of footsteps approaching pulled you from your thoughts. You looked over, expecting another party guest, but instead, you found Glen standing beside you. The velvet tuxedo jacket was now off, and his hair was a little mussed from probably running his hand through it one too many times, but his smile was warm and familiar.

“Hey,” he said softly, leaning casually against the railing next to you. “You okay?”

You managed a small smile and nodded. “Yeah, just needed a breather.”

He studied you for a moment, his gaze calm and steady, before arching a brow. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Leslie pestering you at the bar, would it?”

You rolled your eyes, though your lips twitched with the hint of a smile. “No.”

“Uh-huh,” Glen said, clearly not buying it. “Because Leslie may or may not have told me to come find you.”

Your heart gave a jolt, and you turned to look at him. “She what?”

“She didn’t say why,” Glen added quickly, holding up a hand as if to reassure you. “But… she said…enough.”

“Enough?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

He hesitated, his smile fading into something softer, something more sincere. “Enough to make me realize I’ve been putting this off for too long.”

Before you could ask what he meant, Glen stepped closer. His eyes searched yours, as though he were trying to gauge your reaction before saying anything else. 

“I wanted to thank you,” he said, his voice low. “For coming with me tonight. For being here for me—not just tonight, but always.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. There was something in his tone, in the way he looked at you, that made your heart beat just a little faster.

“And I need you to know,” he continued, taking another step closer, “how much you mean to me.”

The space between you was nearly nonexistent now, and for a moment, neither of you said a word. His eyes searched yours, his hand twitching at his side like he wanted to reach for you but wasn’t sure if he should.

You felt it then—that shift Leslie had hinted at, the one you’d been too afraid to fully acknowledge. This wasn’t just your best friend standing in front of you. This was Glen, the man who had been at your side for years, looking at you like you were the only person in the world.

He took a deep breath and leaned in slightly, pausing when your noses were almost touching. His eyes flickered to your lips, then back to your eyes, giving you a chance to pull away. But you didn’t.

Instead, you met his gaze, your heart thundering in your chest.

Glen’s tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and then his eyes fluttered shut as he raised a hand to your face. His palm was warm as it cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.

You closed your eyes just as his lips found yours.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as though he was afraid you might pull away. But when you didn’t, when you leaned into him and placed a hand lightly against his chest, he deepened the kiss, his other arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer.

The world around you faded—the music, the laughter, the skyline. All that mattered was the way Glen’s lips moved against yours, the way he held you like he’d been waiting for this moment for far too long.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The world seemed to hold its breath as you both stood there, processing what had just happened. Glen’s hand lingered on your cheek, his thumb tracing soft, absentminded circles against your skin. Your heart raced, the warmth of his touch grounding you in the surreal, breathtaking reality of the moment.

Finally, Glen broke the silence, his lips curving into that familiar, playful grin that always managed to put you at ease. “So…” he began, his tone light but his eyes still holding that intensity from before. “Does this mean you’ll let me take you to next year’s Globes too?”

The laugh bubbled out of you before you could stop it, breaking the tension in the most perfect way. You shook your head, resting your forehead against his chest as a smile spread across your lips. “We’ll see if you behave, Cowboy.”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest where your head rested. “Behave? I’m a perfect gentleman,” he said, his voice tinged with mock indignation.

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, arching a brow. “Oh, really? Perfect gentlemen don’t usually kiss their best friends on rooftops in the middle of a party.”

His grin widened as he shrugged, his hand still resting lightly on your waist. “Maybe I got tired of being just your best friend.”

Your breath caught again at the sincerity in his tone, the way his teasing words carried so much truth. Glen had always been charming, always quick with a joke or a flirtatious comment, but this felt different. This felt real.

You didn’t respond right away, unsure of what to say, but instead of pushing, Glen just smiled and leaned down to press a quick, gentle kiss to your forehead. And with that, he stepped back slightly, though his hand still lingered on your waist, as if to let you know that even with the space between you, he was still there, still yours.

You tilted your head back to look up at him, searching his eyes for any hint of hesitation, but all you saw was sincerity. The smile that still lingered on his lips wasn’t one of teasing; it was genuine, like he was relieved to have crossed that line with you.

“I don’t know what to say,” you confessed, your voice quieter than usual. “This is... a lot to take in, you know?”

Glen nodded, his thumb brushing lightly over the fabric of your dress, a small gesture that seemed to ground you. 

“Yeah,” he said softly, “I get it.” He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he added, “But I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

His words sent a wave of warmth through you, and for a brief moment, you closed your eyes, letting yourself truly hear what he was saying. The uncertainty that had clouded your mind earlier began to dissipate, replaced by something far more powerful—trust.

“I just don’t want to mess things up, Glen,” you admitted, looking up at him again, your voice low but clear. “We’ve been friends for so long. I don’t want to lose that.”

His hand gently cupped your face, his thumb now tracing along your jawline as he spoke, his voice steady. “We won’t lose it,” he promised, his gaze never leaving yours. “I wouldn’t let that happen. We’re in this together, okay?”

You nodded, the sincerity in his words making your heart swell. “Okay,” you whispered, the word feeling like a vow in the quiet space between you.

For a moment, neither of you moved, as if the world had paused just for you two. It was peaceful, despite everything—the chaos of the party, the swirling emotions inside you. Glen was here, right in front of you, and he was offering you something more. Something you hadn’t expected but couldn’t deny.

Then, in the silence that followed, he grinned, that familiar playful glint returning to his eyes. “So, does this mean you’ll let me take you on a date?”

You tilted your head slightly, looking up at him, and couldn’t help but smile at the way his eyes twinkled with excitement. He was waiting, his expression open and genuine, and suddenly, it didn’t feel like anything was uncertain anymore. The nerves, the doubts—they melted away in the warmth of his gaze.

"Yeah," you said softly, your voice filled with the quiet confidence that had come from years of friendship and, somehow, this unexpected moment. "I'd like that."

His smile deepened, and for a second, it was as if time stood still. He reached out, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face, his hand lingering on your cheek.

Without another word, he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a soft kiss. It wasn’t rushed, nor was it shy. It was everything you hadn’t known you needed.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested gently against yours. You both stayed there for a moment, eyes closed, as if savoring the moment before the world could rush back in.

"Come on," Glen said, pulling you gently by the hand, “Let’s not keep everyone waiting.”

As he led you back toward the party, his fingers intertwined with yours, and the moment felt complete. You’d crossed the line, yes, but it was the best kind of line to cross—one that made you excited for whatever came next.

You shared one last look, a silent promise between you two, before re-entering the party, side by side, ready for whatever the night—and your future—held.

[sidemari]

• Reunited •

Character: Viktor (Arcane) x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mature content ahead, so only 18+ are allowed to interact. Read responsibly and enjoy! Forgive me for any mistakes, English isn't my first language.

Context: After a cruel breakup some years ago, you both gave each other a chance to reconnect.

Did that feel pleasant. Humping against each other, clothes still restraining the entirety of the sensations, sincere confessions, rapid kisses that were full of hunger and devotion. The perfect scenery for a reconnection.

"It's not normal how much I missed you" He whispered against your neck, inhaling your scent.

"Viktor…" Your fingers caressed his hair strands with delicacy.

His soft lips trailed the path right to the sensitive spot under your ear, mumbling with a pleading tone a "Make me yours".

You guided him to sit on the bed, his back finding support against the headboard. Straddling his lap, you captured his lips on a kiss that initially was slow and pure before it turned into a urgent battle for dominance - a battle you lost on purpose.

His tongue explored your mouth with ease, igniting something inside of you only him could. You squirmed, pressing your own aching core against his crotch, earning a moan of his against your lips.

"Fuck, this f-feels good" His voice was hoarse from the kiss recently broken as his own hands hoovered against your hips before grabbing them with a strong grip, guiding your movements against his already hard shaft.

Shivering hands went from your hips to your torso, unbuttoning your shirt, exposing your bare chest, his eyebrows furrowing with the sight, eyes glowing in awe.

"You're so utterly perfect, so utterly beautiful" His voice was no more but a mewl as you blinked with affection to his words, giving him the chaste smile he fell in love with when he was just an undercity kid. "I can't get enough of you" His thumbs caressed your nipples, earning a whimper from you.

"Viktor-" His name left your lips in such delightful way.

"Keep humping against me, I wanna feel you" He pleaded as his skilled hands explored your breasts.

"Vitya…" He blinked slowly, inhaling slowly as if he was trying his very best to simply not fuck you dumb right there.

Your sounds were driving him insane.

Not only them, but your smell, the softness of your skin, your expressions and reactions made him feel human again.

"I need you now… Fuck, I need you so m-much" He gasped, sloppily taking of your clothes while you helped him with his own clothing.

He was dripping pre-cum, so ready to claim you as his once again. "Please-" You stole another kiss from him as your hand guided his cock to only tease your clit and folds, but he broke the kiss with urge to beg you.

"Please, my love… I need to be inside of you now" He muttered against your lips, control and reasoning long lost.

You sank yourself against him, his cock stretching your walls so deliciously, reaching the deepest part within you you shuddered.

You couldn't deny him anything.

Not when he looked so devoted under you.

Not when he begged to be inside of you.

"Viktor!" You moaned, your hand guiding him to leave a trail of kisses against your neck. For some seconds, you just enjoyed the sensation of having each other again, too overwhelmed to do much more.

"I missed this s-so much" His accent was more prominent than usual, a sign he wasn't really controlling his behavior, the pressure of always being untouchable and perfect long ignored.

You had taught him - oh, so patiently - that being vulnerable was human, that there was absolutely nothing wrong with that. It was so precious seeing him like this, accepting and finding comfort in being vulnerable around you.

Not much people besides you knew how adorable he could be, he wasn't the type of guy who would allow anyone to cross his usual facade so ordinarily.

His hand went to your heat, stimulating your clit with his slick fingers with the right amount of pressure to make you melt above him. Biting down your lips, you suppressed a moan, gaze still locked with his own.

"Can I?" You asked quietly against his ear, caressing his soft hair with love. He nodded, whispering a plea before gripping your hips once again, guiding your movements and speeding up the their rhythm.

Every time you felt his cock bottoming inside of you, you shivered in pleasure, gasping his name like it was the only word you knew. Before you could notice, one of his hands went to your face level.

"Open your mouth" He asked between pants, his middle and ring finger teasing your lower lip. You obeyed him, naively waiting for his next instruction. "Suck them" You coated his fingers with saliva, not breaking eye contact with him a single time. "Good girl" Your heart fluttered with those words.

"You feel so good" You whined, one of your hands reaching for the one on your hip, driving it to massage your breast. His thumb abused your sensitive nipple as his ministrations on your clit grew ardently. "Just like that…"

"Fuck, Viktor-" His fingers pinched your clit just to see your reaction and gods, did you leave the most precious sound until now escape from your lips.

You looked so painfully flawless.

Taking all of him, allowing him to claim you as his once again.

He couldn't help but squirm under you, thrusting his hips upwards just to fill you up deeper than usual.

"Ride me faster" He muttered before his mouth attacked your neck, leaving marks you probably wouldn't be able to hide so easily. You obliged his words, so close to coming undone it hurt.

He knew you with the back of his hands.

It was clear you were almost there.

(*Expression that means "my love" in Czech.)

"V-Viktor… I can't-" You whined, tears pooling the corner of your eyes, unable to finish your phrase.

"I know, me too, moje láska*" His hands caressed your back before pulling you impossibly close to him.

The tension inside of you snapped after some torturous seconds, your walls contracting around him in waves of pleasure. He followed, filling you up completely with his essence. You leaned against his chest, his heart pounding against your ear.

You didn't move.

You hadn't the strength to do so.

You just enjoyed the safety and warmth he offered you.

He softly kissed the top of your head, his fingers tracing patterns against the small of your back, sending shivers down your spine.

"I could stay like this forever" You muttered, snuggling against him.

A chuckle left his lips and your heart skipped a beat at the adorable sound. You had missed him so much.

"I thought you wouldn't allow me in again, after…" His voice dropped off, and you felt him swallowing hardly. "I'm grateful you forgave me when I only deserved contempt" His fingers combed your hair, making you soothe.

"You had a lot on your plate back then, I don't blame you"

"I do blame myself and perhaps I'll always do for shattering your heart back then. Still, I'm willing to prove you I can be the one you deserve"

[flamingpudding]

Substitute City Ghost

Clockwork had a plan. Their young king needed to learn how to take care of people without the kind of hero like fighting he did in Amity Park. There was a lot to learn for the young halfa and his king classes could only cover so much. Thus he had found a plan that would give his king the perfect learning expirence while also helping out his recently new friend. Well not that new since his friend was quite an old ghost of their own. But he had only recently made direct contact with her.

Lady Gotham was an old and powerful ghost. Born from the beliefs of her city and strengthened by the once living and protecting it. But she was stretching herself thin. Managing her city, helping the dead find their way, looking out for the shades, and protecting the weaker entities, was already a lot of responsibilities for a city ghost. But Lady Gotham has added more to her plate, supporting those that protect her city. Mortals that she called her knights. Aiding them by controlling the shadows, guiding those that need help toward them, or the other way around, guiding her knights to those that needed help. She was strong, but even a ghost like her could grow exhausted. His friend needed rest and recharge. Surely Lady Gotham wouldn't say no if he invited her to a vacation to the Realms, and in that same invitation, he would direct his king to his new hands on training.

The bats and birds knew something was different about Gotham lately. It was strange and slightly unsettling. The change felt like it had just happened overnight. They were suspicious, wondering if they were sensing one of their rogues planning something big. Jason and Duke appeared to sense it the most.

At first, it didn't appear to be too big of a problem, but then strange things started to happen. Their rogues started tripping over, seemingly nothing. And if that wasn't enough it appeared like their rogues were a whole lot more inattentive to their surroundings. Now the Bats and birds were good at sneaking, but they had human limits. Yet there were times they snuck up on them like they weren't even seen.

Dick swore that one of the goons had stared at him and didn't see him, even though he had tried to pull the tap their shoulder and greet them before punching them act. The guy had turned around and stared at him before looking around like no one was even there until he punched the guy anyway.

And that wasn't even the weirdest part. Bullets, throwing knives or anything aimed and thrown at them never hit their marks. Not for the lag of them dodging but for the things they were sure they shouldn't have been able to react in time for. Tim espacially had pointed out that a bullet should have hit him once but it never even graced him. Yet when he checked the place after the arrest. There had been a clear bullet hole in the wall where he had been.

They weren't sure if it was a blessing or a curse. They had even tried to get a member of the Justice League Dark to look into it. But strangely enough Constantine had refused to even set foot into Gotham for once, and even insisted that the other do not either.

To say that Batman was not amused would have been a very big understatement. The man was brooding. And of course Dick had to jinx them too. The eldest bat kid had to mention that it at least wasn't getting worse.

And don't you know it. It got worse. Like weirdly alarming strangely worse.

Because, how else would you define it when you're in the middle of a briefing with your patrol partner for the night when suddenly a Lazarus Pit look alike portal opens below your feed swallowed you up and the freaking drops you into the middle of a crime scene or mugging.

It was only thanks to their training that they were able to react quickly enough after a bound of disorientation. But fuck did that gave them all a good damn heart attacks when that happened the first time to Damian of all people.

Something was definitely wrong with their city. Thankfully they had some sort of hint, because the first time the Pit portal happened to Duke, he claimed that he saw a white haired figure right before it had swallowed him hole and spit him out at a bank robbery.

Danny was honestly believing he was doing a good job as substitute city spirit while Lady Gotham was enjoying her vacation. Sure , he still had trouble with some things, but he was sure he was getting the hang of the whole supporting the cities vigilantes gig Lady Gotham had going on. The whole managing the shades and the dead spirits was still up in the air, though. But at least he had figured out a way easier way to guide the vigilantes towards the once that needed help.

Now he just needed to figure out what was wrong with that one guy in the red helmet and he was sure that both Clockwork and Lady Gotham would be proud of him and how he had managed her city during her vacation.