#May Edward Chin

[newyorkthegoldenage]

Eleanor Roosevelt at the first anniversary celebration of the opening of the Strang Clinic (now the Strang Cancer Prevention Institute), an infirmary for women and children, April 26, 1934. May Strang, niece of Chauncey Depew, who with her sister, Dr. Elise L'Esperance, founded the Strang Clinic in memory of their mother, is shown pouring tea for Mrs. Roosevelt.

The Clinic was devoted to the diagnosis and treatment of cancer. Dr. L’Esperance collaborated with Drs. May Edward Chinn and George Papanicolaou, whose research led to the early detection of cancer of the cervix. This resulted in the Pap test. In 1940, Strang was the first medical facility to introduce it into clinical practice.

Photo: Associated Press

[rainerioun]

𝖶𝖧𝖠𝖳 𝖣𝖮𝖤𝖲 𝖸𝖮𝖴𝖱 𝖥𝖴𝖳𝖴𝖱𝖤 𝖲𝖯𝖮𝖴𝖲𝖤 𝖫𝖮𝖮𝖪 𝖫𝖨𝖪𝖤? | 𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝖺 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖽.

— Hi! Apologies for being a bit inactive lately. Been tied up with stuff, but I'm back with a reading for you all! Today, we'll delve into what your future partner could look like. Remember, just take whatever resonates with you. This reading is more so about what sticks out to you when reading.

ORIGINAL DATE POSTED : APRIL 26TH, 2024.

HOW TO CHOOSE A PILE : The outcome may vary based on whether you receive clear messages visually or intuitively. If you resonate more with selecting a pile visually, trust that inclination. Personally, I believe the notion that 'looks can deceive,' so I prefer to take a deep breath and close my eyes, allowing the pile I'm meant to connect with to come to me. You might see the color of the pile, sense or hear a number, or simply feel its overall vibe.

Please don’t redistribute or edit my content.

MUST READ + MASTERLIST | KO-FI

PILE ONE

Zodiac Dice Roll. — Virgo.

Your future partner likely has an oval face shape with a more narrow jawline and chin, contrasted by prominent cheekbones. They're likely to have a slender physique, though proportionate in any case.

Tarot. — Six of Swords.

They give off a moody or unassuming vibe, seeming as though they don't express much. Yet, they're quite proactive in changing their appearance, whether it's their style, hair, or even their athleticism. However, they'll always maintain that aloof, 'leave me out of it' demeanor.

Additional. Hermit — Light : Seeks solitude to focus intently on inner life. Serves personal creativity. Shadow : Withdraws from society out of fear or negative judgements of others. Refusing to help those in need.  Pioneer — Light : Passion for doing and creating what has not been done before. Shadow : Compulsive need to keep moving on.

As I mentioned earlier, they are constantly undergoing physical changes in some way. They have an introverted and withdrawn aura. They could let their hair grow out and become a bit scruffy before impulsively cutting it off. They maintain a rather deadpan expression when simply existing in their own world. The image of Edward Cullen specifically came to mind when pulling the cards.

Specifics. — Take What Feels Right. High Cheekbones, Heart Shaped Face, Pale Skin, Brown Eyes, Curly Hair, Cat Beauty, Honey Eyes, Thin Eyebrows.

Yes, very vampire allure-esque indeed. Their eyes could appear normally brown but take on a honey-like glow under certain lighting. Their eyes are quite striking, considering they have feline type features. Although hair color didn't come up during the reading, I pictured them with dark hair that complements their skin tone.

Apocalypse : Cigarettes After Sex.

PILE TWO

Zodiac Dice Roll. — Leo.

Of course, they possesses striking hair like a lion's mane—thick, unruly, perhaps even a bit frizzy, something that immediately catches one's eye, possibly long in length. Their eyes are equally intense, matching their strong jawline. They exude a fierce appearance that naturally draws attention, whether they seek it or not.

Tarot. — Four of Wands [Reversed].

Your future spouse might have a more mature-looking face compared to yours or for their age. They appear quite stressed, with heavy eyes and noticeable wrinkles, particularly around their eyes, such as crow's feet and frown lines.

This aspect also reflects in their demeanor. They might carry an air of disappointment, even if they don't necessarily feel that way—it's just a testament to what they've been through. They tend to go for neutrals in their clothing choices, not leaning towards vibrant styles. Despite appearing restless, they naturally possess an attractive charm.

Additional. Mystic — Light : Revels in intimate union with the Divine. Shadow : Delusional rapport with the Divine. 

They have a divine look to their appearance, regardless of their modest and simple attire or styling. There's a hint of mystique about them, but I feel it leans more towards a deity-like appearance rather than a witchy vibe. I imagine your future partner resembling a god/goddess, genuinely embodying timeless beauty.

Specifics. — Take What Feels Right. Below Average Height, Legs, Medium-Length Hair, Prominent Mouth, Broad Nose, Copper hair, Medium Skin.

Your future spouse has a complexion you'd deem as medium-toned. When it comes to their hair, I envision it falling somewhere between medium to long length. Though a single color came out, you could interpret it as having hints of orange or red tones instead. Their mouth is defined by sharp, pointed features, while their nose possesses a broad, perhaps even slightly downturned shape.

Bernadette : IAMX. | Lucky Drive : Sarah Kinsley. | Who Is She? : I Monster. [ I think these songs perfectly describe their vibe. ]

PILE THREE

Zodiac Dice Roll. — Aries.

Your future spouse has distinct/sharp, broad features with thick eyebrows framing their face. Freckles, beauty marks, or subtle scars might adorn their face, too. Their shoulders are broad and sturdy. They could be tinged with red in some way. It could be in their complexion with rosy cheeks, hair, eyes, or they just wear a lot of red. Despite a muscular build, they still have curves, whether it's slim hips and wider thighs or a smaller waist and broader hips.

Tarot. — Three of Wands [Reversed].

It seems they may have a serious RBF, often appearing quite frustrated or impatient. There's a strong and confident demeanor about them. When envisioning their build or expression, I see Rhea Ripley 100%.

Additional. Hero/Heroine — Light : Passion for a journey of personal empowerment. Shadow : Escapism and a false sense of heroism. 

When we typically imagine heroes, we picture them as polished and composed. However, behind the curtain, they bear the marks of their struggles, with visible signs of stress etched into their body. Your future partner will be this way. Peel back their layers, and you'll uncover scars, calluses, and an overall roughness.

Specifics. — Take What Feels Right. Gray Eyes, Hawk Nose, Thick Nose, Scars, Thighs, Neutral Tone, Square Shaped Face, Hands.

What did I say about scars? It popped up three times at this point. Their skin tone has a neutral undertone, not warm or cool. Their nose is large and hooked. And those gray eyes? Unwavering. You could simply like their thighs and hands specifically, or there's something significant about them.

Hey Sexy Lady : Shaggy. | Blood Sweat & Tears : BTS.

PILE FOUR

Zodiac Dice Roll. — Pisces.

Your future spouse has round, soft lips, with dewy skin and eyes shining with tenderness. They have a dreamy aura, perhaps lost in thought at times. Their hair may tend towards the finer side. I envision them as 'dainty' and clumsy.

Tarot. — Four of Wands [Reversed]. | The Star.

The Star card suits them perfectly. They radiate both warmth and serenity, their presence quite calming. This reflects in their appearance, with a lively step and a clear sense of purpose in all they do. They have a whimsical charm, very cute!

Additional. Child : Orphan — Light : Independence based on learning to go at it alone. Conquering fear of surviving. Shadow : Feelings of abandonment that stifle maturation. Seeking inappropriate surrogate families.

In terms of aesthetic, your future spouse has a more colorful style. They appear youthful without seeming childish, dressing without fear and staying true to themselves, free from judgment.

Specifics. — Take What Feels Right. Alternative, Sparse Eyebrows, Long Eyelashes, Waist, Slim, Small Eyes, Green Eyes, Bald, Masculine.

This aligns with what I was getting at. They definitely have an alternative style. Although the energy initially felt 'feminine,' masculine came out. So, I believe this person is deeply connected to both aspects. They might also identify as queer. And while they could actually be bald, I heard in it a joking tone, given their naturally thin hair.

The Shining : The Neighbourhood. | Confidence : Ocean Alley.

PILE FIVE

Zodiac Dice Roll. — Capricorn.

Your future spouse is somewhat lanky but has hidden strength, almost described as lithe. They carry an almost stern and steady gaze, radiating seriousness and maturity. Their bone structure is striking, too. Unlike typical Capricorns, they move with a deliberate slowness, calculated in their actions. They are an alluring person. — I forgot to add that they have nice teeth!

Tarot. — Knight of Pentacles [Reversed].

I picture your future spouse as having a disheveled and unkempt appearance, but in a somehow intentional and controllable manner—it's a bit hard to put into words. Think of someone like Hozier in terms of what I mean. They might give off a slightly lazy energy, dressing in loose-fitting clothes. I don't think they enjoy changing their appearance much and prefer to stick to the same style. I imagine they lean towards neutral or dark colors, something easy on the eyes.

Additional. Messiah — Light : Serving humanity with humility. Shadow : Exaggerated belief that you are the only means through which a cause can succeed. 

This person is confident, fully aware of their own charm. I envision them with darker skin and dark hair. If you're attracted to men, I imagine them having some form of facial hair, perhaps a beard.

Specifics. — Take What Feels Right. Eye Bags, Light Freckles, Prominent Nose, Full Lips, Short Hair, Dark Skin, Olive Skin, Monotone Voice, Puppy-Dog Eyes, Brown Hair.

I think your future spouse aims for that bad boy vibe but doesn't quite nail it. They naturally give off that vibe, but they try a bit too hard to make it obvious. Perhaps they have freckles that become more visible in the summer or are barely noticeable. They aren't very expressive with their voice, but their eyes more than compensate for it, being a bit pouty, too. As for their hair, while I initially pictured it as long, it likely varies based on personal preference since short hair came out. Generally, they have a darker appearance overall.

Beautiful Is Boring : BONES UK. | Judas : Lady Gaga. | Too Sweet : Hozier.

PILE SIX

Zodiac Dice Roll. — Sagittarius.

Your future spouse has a wider face and a welcoming, cheerful demeanor. I see them with a cute button nose, sparkling eyes, and a pretty smile. They are bubbly and curious, with chubby cheeks and a curvier frame. Their expression reminds me of Armin Arlert. AHHH, I LOVE ARMIN! I HAD TO BRING HIM UP. T-T

Tarot. — Ace of swords [Reversed].

This person tends to get easily distracted, often appearing spaced out. Their appearance mirrors their emotions, reflecting whatever they're feeling that day. They're not one to settle on a particular style, constantly changing their look.

Additional. Shape-Shifter — Light : Skill at navigating through different levels of consciousness. Ability to see the potential in everything. Shadow : Projecting any image that serves your personal agenda in the moment. 

Yeah, they seem like a real shape-shifter. Always evolving, whether it's their physical appearance or their mindset. One day they might be all about frills and pastels, and the next they're wearing dark, sleek attire.

Specifics. — Take What Feels Right. Hazel Eyes, Button Nose, Tattoos, Neutral Tone, Fingers, Freckles, Hips, Round Shaped Face, Slim Nose.

It's kind of spooky how tarot readings can be so consistently on point with their messages. Hazel eyes were mentioned, but even if not, they have lighter eyes. They might have tattoos, but I'm not sure of what. You might find yourself drawn to their fingers or hips. I envision them as more heavy-set.

Primadonna : MARINA. | Paris, Texas : Lana Del Rey. | Black Friday : Tom Odell.

[sivyera]

10 things Edward Cullen loves about you

edward c. x fem!reader wanings: none! just edward being a simp and a lots of fluff, like a lot of

To be clear, Edward loves every. single. part. of. you. In his eyes you are just perfect. There is nothing on you, that he wouldn't find perfect or beautiful. But he somehow sorted it out and wrote down what he loves most about you. Even though he loves everything about you.

Your height - it may sounds weird bur please let me explain. He loves your height because you are much shorter then him, no matter how tall you are you are still smaller then him. So whenever he hugs you, he can rest his chin on your head and he feels like he's protecting you.

Your laugh - especially if he's the one who made you laugh. It's like music to his ears and he can listen to it forever. So sometimes he starts tickle you out of nowhere just to hear you laugh. And he always laugh with you.

Your smile - he just love when you smile at him. Like when you wake up and look at him with messy hair, sleepy eyes and beautiful smile full of love. Or when he says something flirty and you scoff and then smile. Or when he picks you up in his volvo and you say 'hi' with the biggest and brightest smile, he can't help but smile too.

Your voice - it's music to his ears same as your laugh. You can talk about anything and he will still listen with hearts in his eyes. You can talk about how your day went or how much you love this and that, he really doesn't care he just wanna hear your voice. But his favourite thing to listen is when you talk about how much you love him.

Your body - he loves how your body looks and it reacts when he touches you. He is cold but not uncomfortably cold yk, like refreshing cold. So when he softly traces his fingers on your body and you shiver a bit, oh god he just loves it! He likes every part of your body.

Your face -he just finds your face incredibly beautiful. Every single time when he looks at you he just wanna kiss you all over your face. The beauty you hold is something magical to him, something he didn't believe existed, yet here you are with the most beautiful face in the whole world.

Your eyes - he can get lost in them for hours. He cannot get enough of the way how your eyes sparkle when you look at something you like. And he never miss the way they sparkle and get bigger when you look at him, how much love they hold when you look at him. And he looks at you the same way like you, maybe with more love;)

Your scent - it's like a drug to him. I mean it, whenever he smells your scent, he cannot think about anything else then you. You are his blood singer which means he loves the scent of your blood as well and it's like a drug to him same as your human scent. So he loves when he can just wrap his arms around you and bury his face into your neck so he can smell you.

Your touch - it doesn't matter where are you touching him, just touch him. Your touch is as addictive as your scent. Even small touches like holding pinkies. But he is over the moon when you play with his hair. It's so relaxing to him and if he could he would fall asleep. He may start 'purring' but don't mention it, because he will deny it.

Your soul - your beautiful kind soul. He's happy that you accepted him because he was really insecure, because imagining you leaving him or worst being scared of him when he told you he was a vampire was devastating. But you didn't, you stayed with him and you love him unconditionally as he loves you. He considers himself very VERY lucky to have you as his soulmate.

[gloomunson]

Purely Transactional

First time really publishing anything I've written for Eddie. No stranger to smut. just to him. Go easy on me.

Eddie Munson smut. The one where you fake date. Picture the 90s. Slow build.

Word Count: 12,872

Picture this; you’re being forced to attend your sisters engagement party, it’s a weekend event a couple towns over. You’ve got a room booked for two, yourself and your boyfriend. Your family can’t wait to meet the man who’s stolen your heart at last. It’s actually the second biggest event in your family history for years. The issue: you don’t have a boyfriend. You haven’t had one since you were 16. You only said you did have a boyfriend because you thought you would have by now. You never saw life going this way at all. Now you either have to fess up to being a single mother of two beautiful little dogs or find a last minute lover to feel less alone. Yay.

You asked everyone you knew. The neighbour, the neighbour’s neighbour. His cousin from out of town, his cousin from out of town’s neighbour. Every single one of your friends and only one of them gave you something or more, someone to work with. “Why don’t you ask Eddie?” You’re slouching on his sofa, sinking into the leather as he strums away at his guitar a joint hanging dangerously from his mouth. “I don’t know him.” You say it like it’s obvious, kicking your feet up. “Which is exactly why you should.” You catch his drift, but you don’t want to. It wasn’t as ideal as he thought it was. “I’m gonna get asked questions.” You deadpan. “So, make some notecards.” You tug the joint from his mouth, bringing it to your own. “Yes you may have that.” You flick him. “Rude.” You take a drag before slotting it back gently between his lips, returning to your seat.

“He won’t do it.” Gareth doesn’t respond. “I know he won’t, he doesn’t like me.” He huffs. ‘You hadn’t given him a chance to’ is what he says in his mind. “Has he told you that?” He quit playing, giving you more of his attention. He really did want to help. “Not exactly, no.” He leaned over his guitar, placing the joint down in his hand painted ash tray on the coffee table. The one you made for him for Christmas the year before. The one that he loved and guarded with his life. “Ask him.” You shake your head. “Ask him.” He says again, the guitar now being rested carefully against the table alerting you that he meant business. “No. Way.” You continue. He moves over to you; you slot your legs across his lap, and he leans back into his seat comfortably under the weight of them. “I’m gonna ask him.” You think he’s joking. You hoped he was joking. He wasn’t joking.

-

“Edward, we don’t know each other that well so I thought you’d be perfect plus you’re kinda the only other single one left, so it had to be you.” There were no lies told. You were the only ones; it might have been the only thing you actually had in common in your little inner circle of friends. You weren’t close but you also weren’t complete strangers. You were a little more than acquaintances, but not really friends. He was your only shot at this, that much you did know. “I resent that.” You roll your eyes, ‘you would,’ you think. You’re running out of options, he was your last chance, you had a week to prepare, this had to be it. You considered throwing in the towel moments before he arrived at your place. Half an hour late. It should have been enough of a sign not to go through with it but then he did arrive. Meaning that somewhere deep down inside him, he was interested. You could work with interested.

“I’ll pay you.” You can’t imagine anything worse; you were desperate sure, not desperate enough to actually pay him but desperate all the same. He seemed reasonable enough though. He had more money now than he knew what to do with and he was close with Gareth. Gareth was good people; he’d turn your offer down; you were sure of it. “How much?” He perks up, stroking his chin now his attention was caught. “You weren’t actually supposed to want payment.” You panicked, feet shuffling, hands tapping your thighs relentlessly. He was smirking. “Isn’t that how this is supposed to work?” He steps in close, a couple feet between you, not enough. “Want me to act like an escort? You’re gonna have to pay me like one.” If you hadn’t ever had a conversation with him, you might have found that attractive. He was tall, dark, and handsome. His jawline so picturesque you may have thought about kissing it once or twice. You also liked his eyes, even if he was cold and callous beneath them, only out for himself. But he wasn’t that attractive, and he didn’t intimidate you like he thought he did. Much.

“Like you don’t have more money than my entire family combined.” You dig. His rock star era made a hell of a name for himself. This was never going to happen. You don’t know why he even entertained it this far. There wasn’t a single helpful bone in his body, no matter how much you wished there were. “How bad do you need a boyfriend sweetheart?” He shortens the space between you even more. Your chest feels tight, the confidence dripping from his tongue was actually working on you, you were out of your depth. The way he looked at you too. Eyes flicking down to your lips and back, head tilting slightly, almost robotically, like he was sizing you up. Seeing if he could make it work. Make you work for him. You felt a heat on the back of your neck. You felt gross.

“100 bucks if they believe it, 50 if they don’t.” You couldn’t believe you were even saying it. You’d have to make him forget you agreed to any of that. “For how long?” He quipped back. “You’re so greedy. I’m gonna have to make a note of that in our very public lovers spat.” You lace it with venom as well as humour, standing your ground. The corner of his lips begins to curl. He fights it. “How long?” He repeats again, just as steady in tone. “A weekend.” You breathe. “Like Saturday and Sunday.” He asks. “Like Friday to Monday,” you respond just as deadpan. “200.” He takes a dangerous step closer. You don’t flinch. “150 and no black eye.” His brows furrow, forehead creasing in confusion. He kind of reminded you of a neanderthal. Dumb little boy.

“Why would I have a black eye?” You raise your fist. “OKAY PUT YOUR FIST DOWN. Jesus woman, I’ll do it.” He admits defeat. “Perfect. I made some note cards, things about me you may get asked about, read them, memorise them, guard them with your life.” You tug the notes from your back pocket, pushing them into his chest abruptly. He looks down at them quizzically. “What if they ask about me?” You shrug your shoulders. “I’m sure you’re not that complex.” He doesn’t attempt to hide how insulted he is by that.

“When is it?” You point to the cards. “All the information you need is in the notes.” He opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again, “how are we-“ you go to open your front door, you’d had the entire conversation in the hallway, not wanting him to go any further into your home than that. “In the notes Edward.” He takes a look down at the cards in his hands, he hated reading other people’s handwriting, made him feel dumb when he couldn’t understand it as well as he’d liked. You joined your letters all curly too which didn’t help. He actually half expected you to dot the I’s with hearts, you seemed like that kind of girl. He wasn’t sure if he was disappointed that you hadn’t.

You’re ushering him out the door, waving your hand to make him move faster. He pauses in your doorframe. You were so close. You could just kick him; he’d be off your property in no time. You wouldn’t have to think about him for another week then. You could pack your bags in peace. “You spelt my name wrong.” He points to the card; you’d done it on purpose. “No, I think your parents did.” He frowns. Before he can respond again you give him that much needed shove out the door. “BYE Eddie!” You slam it behind him, leaning your back against it as if that would prevent him from getting back inside and on top of your nerves again. He found the whole ordeal just as unpleasant as you had but he still finds himself on the other side of that door with a smile on his face. He read every single card you wrote for him. You were way more annoying than he thought. 

-

“What part are you guys having trouble understanding?” You ask the table, leaning over, reaching for your cocktail to distract your mouth before you can step your foot in it. You were being tested way harder than you ever anticipated you would. You really never imagined they’d care let alone put you on trial for the crime of getting a boyfriend without their prior knowledge or approval. It’s nice to know how friendly and welcoming they really are when push comes to shove. You’d have to keep that in mind for the real thing, whenever that might be.

You’d laugh the nerves away, but you were afraid you might never stop laughing. You’d just manically laugh until you sank under the table, down into the ground, right to centre of the earth, burning up at the core before passing away painfully. You wished you could laugh. Instead, you just took the longest sip, looking to your left and right as subtly as you could muster under the immense pressure placed upon your shoulders by your sister and her fiancé. Deep breaths, it’ll all be over soon. 

“I don’t buy it.” She states matter of factly. “You go from a single dog mom to suddenly in love with the perfect guy.” You open your mouth to speak but you daren't even try, she’s not finished yet. “It’s a little conveniently timed don’t you think?” She waves her hands to illustrate her point in that annoying fashion that only she could. Waving her fresh manicure right in your face, whether accidental or on purpose, still ridiculously annoying and yet another reminder that she had her life together and you didn’t. She turned to her fiancé before glancing towards the rest of the table for back up, all nodding along with her instantly as if she were a puppet master stringing them along. Cowards. 

Your gaze remains steady and ice cold, colder than the slushy cocktail in your hands. The only thing that made the weekend worth it was the free bar and the adorable outdoor beer garden. You release the straw after a long sip with an “Ahh.” You try not to enjoy the twitch of your sister’s right eye at the sound. She’d always loathed when people did that. Anyone who made a noise of satisfaction after a drink no matter how delicious or refreshing it may be, was a colossal pain in her ass. You think she just despises other people’s enjoyment. She thinks it’s an unnecessary sound that people tend to use to exaggerate how nice something is as a performance for other people rather than for themselves. She also thinks it’s incredibly unladylike, which gives you a bigger kick to try it out every single time.

“Why would I lie?” You place your drink down harder than you intend to, wincing as the glass clangs on the table so hard you thought it may shatter. “You know I love you sis, but I don’t think I’d go to the length of faking a relationship just because you’re getting engaged.” Which would be such a wonderful sentence to throw out into the universe if that weren’t exactly what you were doing. “I just met the right guy.” You try not to grimace at the cheesiness of it all, that, and the fact you still hadn’t decided if you’d even liked him more than just a piece of eye candy. Because there was no denying that he was attractive, from the start he’d had that going at least. You’d only been admitting it because of the influence of alcohol too. It was just the rest of the package that gave you a headache.

“But he’s-“ You scowl before she continues that sentence, you almost will her to continue. “He’s what?” You push. If anyone were going to come for Eddie they had better make it good because that was an area you excelled in and would absolutely love to be a part of even if you did have to defend him right now. You could always use any good material at a later date when left to your own devices though, a pen and paper would be wonderful.

“He’s not your type.” You don’t believe that’s what she planned to say, it came out far too polite to be something she’d actually thought of. “What is my type then?” You probably shouldn’t have asked her this, but your curiosity trumps all reason. She flails her hand around in her lap, trying to think of the correct way to phrase it. You had no doubt your past relationships were displaying in her mind, enough horrendous options for her to choose from right out of a hat. 

“Nerds,” she begins to list on her fingers, which is quite alarming because you really didn’t think you had that much of a track record. “Gamer boys,” which basically comes under ‘nerds.’ “Skinny guys,” that was absolutely not exclusive, “Gamer boy nerds.” She throws 3 fingers up. That’s if she was classing ‘boy’ as a type which you assume she was. You had to hand it to her, she wasn’t entirely wrong about your past dating pool, but Eddie wasn’t exactly far off that. Allegedly, back in his school days, he was the biggest nerd of them all, right before his band took off, he was participating in DnD tournaments and if that wasn’t the epitome of gamer boy nerd then what was? He just happened upon a glow up in his mid-twenties, something you still desperately waited for yourself. “Eddie just, doesn’t seem much of a nerd.” You’re certain that’s not what she intended to say, and you thought she might stop herself there, but she doesn’t, why would she? “He’s, well I hate to say it,” you bet she doesn’t though, “he’s out of your league.” Ahh, there it is. That’s more like it. She even says it with an apologetic expression to make you consider it for a millisecond. If only he were here. Oh, how he’d love this.

Eddie was the lucky one in this scenario, whether it was fake or not, you were a catch. One that no one had ever caught and kept hold of but a catch, nonetheless. Your mom would agree, probably not the best argument but it’s there and it counted. You reached for your drink once again and prayed he returned soon; you were drowning out here and you weren’t even out of the shallows. “Then lucky me.” You sip as aggressively as one can with a shitty paper straw wedged between their teeth. You were so glad the sea turtles were safer at the hands of recycled paper straws, but you so missed being able to drink a cocktail without the added ingredient of paper mache sinking at the bottom of each glass.

“Why are we in luck?” His voice swings in joining the conversation as he walks back over to your table, the chain on his jeans jingling as it swayed while he walked. You’d asked him to remove it, he swore he would, he didn’t. His hearing was impeccable, you wonder what else had slipped by him on his way over. You’d honestly never felt so relieved to hear his voice either, even if his steps closer bought the smell of cheap cigarettes and your early twenties. You’d have loved him back then. Back in college, your first taste of freedom, the option to date whoever you liked, to experiment a little. You’d have eaten up that bad boy, leather jacket, fingers coated in metal, cigarette smoking musician act he had going for him. Quiet and brooding too, oh yeah, your knickers would have never left the floor. Good thing you grew up since then. 

He grabbed his chair, pushing it right next to yours, as close as he could get without sitting directly on top of you and for a second you ponder about why he bothered with his chair at all. His eyes burned into the side of your face, and you plastered a smile wide enough to match his as you leant into him. “What took you so long?” You whispered while maintaining that sickeningly sweet smile that hurt your face to pull. “You miss me that much?” He licked across his bottom lip, and you mentally scold yourself for looking at it. “I’m getting eaten alive out here.” He grinned wider. “Must be because you’re so damn delicious.” Your stomach fluttered. What the fuck? 

He pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek. You felt yourself relax into him, like his lips had sucked all of the tension from your body. You may not like him very much but you sure were glad he was here right now. Even without the facade, it was hard being in environments where you had to face your entire family alone. It’s not that you weren’t close with them, or didn’t love them, it was just difficult standing your own ground sometimes. You needed that extra shield for the invasive questions and high expectations, the anchor to keep you firmly in place, sure of yourself. It was a tough act to balance. 

He couldn’t deny that he’d gained some respect for you for how well you’d handled things. He wasn’t entirely sure he’d manage a family dynamic like this alone, even if he were part of it. He was kind of developing a soft spot for you, probably more than you were anyway. Okay, definitely more than you were. He wasn’t sure when it started. He’d had the message exchanges throughout the last week. He had the detailed notes about your life from start to finish to divulge. The 3 hour car journey where you refused to play music, instead forcing him to answer questions about you in preparation for the event. It was somewhere amongst there. Maybe even when you’d shared a room the past two nights without killing each other. In seeing a vulnerable side of you that made you appear a little more human. He’d also seen a larger portion of you without clothing, that certainly helped.

Yes. Perhaps somewhere around there he’d liked you. All he knew now was that in watching your interactions with your family, it made him want to stick to you like glue and support you the best he could for however long you would let him. You had it covered, and you’d tell him that too, afraid of showing any weaknesses, but that’s exactly why he felt like he should support you, he didn’t want you to feel so alone, you didn’t have to be so alone. He’d known all too well what that was like.

He didn’t even have to force himself to kiss your cheek that time, he’d just wanted to rid your face of the frown that threatened to grace it, even if he found it adorable. His issue now was that he had trouble moving away. His lips lingering, breath tickling your cheek, until you coughed under your breath for him to shift away. For a moment he’d wished it weren’t all play pretend. That he could stay there and have it not feel so strange. He couldn’t pin point when his eyes started to soften at the sight of you. All he knew was that they had. It was getting increasingly easier to act enamoured by you, because, well, he might have been.

“So, what did I miss?” He tilts his head towards the rest of the table, it felt like such a difficult task to withdraw his attention from you. You yourself took the opportunity to catch a much needed breath. You also needed to pat your stomach to hold off the swarm of butterflies scrambling around in there. There was this dizzying, uneasiness in the pit of your tummy, like you were fighting the emotions within yourself. Those damn love bugs were wasting their time going crazy for this situation. It wasn’t real, not worth the energy. Surely you didn’t need to be convinced of that, it was clear as day. You didn’t need this unnecessary nausea. “We were just talking about what a wonderful couple you are.” Your brother in law speaks, directing his attention towards the man at your side. You really thought you’d liked that man, he betrayed you. You kept a special scowl just for him. He felt hot under the collar when he felt the intensity of it. Good, you thought. Traitor. 

Eddie bravely dipped his hand down onto your thigh where he’d noticed your hand was already resting, slipping his fingers between yours, resting atop your knuckles effortlessly for all to see. You’d felt your breath hitching in your throat. The simplicity of the action shouldn’t have caused such a stir, but it was just so easy for him. He was so touchy feely like it was the most natural thing in the world. He loved to touch, and you never expected it from him. It was one of the main reasons that made it so hard to remain sure that this was all an act. Was he like this with everyone? You’d half hoped he wasn’t, even if your other half screamed at you for that naivety. It wasn’t exactly your love language, but you’d wished it were, you wanted to touch him. Too many drinks maybe.

“Why do I feel like that’s sarcasm?” He threw back with nothing but charm, sweet like honey dripping from his tongue. If he weren’t in a band you could certainly picture him as an actor with some of the crap he pulled. Sometimes he even had you believing this whole thing, lines blurring like no other. Especially when nuzzled his nose into your neck eliciting a squeal from your lips. All before deciding to stay there, sitting with his chin resting on your shoulder happily. Like the most casual position in the world.

Your heart pounded against your chest. His arm slunk around your waist. His mouth opened for you, signalling you to bring his cocktail and straw between his lips to take a sip. A ridiculously over the top public display of affection you swore you’d never partake in. Yet for some reason your hands were ignoring every judgment your mind was making, allowing you to feed him his drink like some kind of mother to a parched child. It was interesting to you how fast you’d been able to communicate with him like that without it ever needing to be said or asked for. “You owe me.” You whisper. “Not how this transaction really works.” He says between sips rather impressively. It might even be considered cute if it wasn’t such a threat. Your cheeks burned.

“It just seems so sudden.” Your sister just can’t bite back her tongue for more than two seconds huh. You’re literally sat there with giant, red, beaming heart eyes for each other. So, close your personal space would never be described as such for as long as you shall live, ever again. Literally feeding each other. Squeezing each other’s hands. Hating every second you’re apart. Feeling like you may break without the other. Whispering sweet nothings (more like threats but no one else had spotted that) into each other’s ears. You’re both so over the top, overwhelmingly infatuated (although falsely) with each other you may as well claim this engagement party as your own and YET, no one believed you for a second. Hell, even you thought you might be falling. Thank you vodka.

“When you know, you know.” You say, lifting your hand to pat his cheek after putting his drink back on the table. He squeezes your other hand instinctively. He’d almost forgotten he was holding it in the first place, it felt so nice and soft, like it belonged in his. It could belong there. “What will it take to convince you?” He offers. You squeeze his hand even harder, this time hoping to pump the breaks on this one. As much as you appreciated him sticking up for the relationship. You weren’t up for a quick fire round of questions that you weren’t prepared in the slightest. Especially since he refused to learn the answers to any potential enquiries a day prior. Deeming the impromptu quiz session in the car ‘enough learning for a lifetime.’

“Ed,” is all you warn while you beg him to shut up with your mind instead. “No, no sweetie, we can answer all the questions they have.” He grinned at you so menacingly; you wanted to wipe that smirk right off his adorably smug little face. Woah. When did he become adorable? Scratch that. Shush. You’re so pissed you don’t even fawn over the pet name, much. You may as well pack your bags now and return home though, you were done for, the hoax was over. The end.

“What’s her favourite band?” Okay, we’re actually doing this. “Or singer, if that’s easier.” Ryan, your least favourite brother in law and your only brother in law, fires out. He only knew the answer himself because he tried to impress you one Christmas by buying you a limited edition vinyl. Of all the people at this table, you thought at least he wouldn’t be sceptical of you. Unbelievable.

“There isn’t just one, its multiple, depends what mood she’s in.” You’re intrigued already on where this is going. Your sister jeered at the response, already less than impressed. Eddie turns his head, lifting his hand to silence her before she can say anything. You almost pat him on the back for it. “But, if I had to choose.” Which he did. He really did. “Queen, Black Sabbath, and I’m going to add Corroded Coffin in there because she’s our number one groupie, aint that right babe?” You allow yourself to roll your eyes at the last part, even if you were dating you doubt you’d let him describe you as a groupie, dick.

“That’s easy, they’re pretty generic choices.” You had to give them that one, it wasn’t the most cut throat list of indie artists you could only associate with your taste and yours only. You’d been a bit of a basic music lover your whole life and there was no shame in that. You liked what you liked and that was okay. You were still impressed he knew any of your list though. Maybe he actually had read your notes, lying shit. Definitely not adorable. “Favourite food?” Okay, still going. You lean back, may as well get comfortable since you’re going to be here for a while. 

He snorted before answering that one and you wondered what was so insanely funny that could make him move his hand away from your thigh to explain it properly. You missed his touch the second you were without it. Gag. “Bread.” He giggled just saying it, the kind of giggle where the creases beside his eyes really stood out and his cheeks bunched up all precious and pudgy underneath them. You can’t help but smile.

“But not just plain bread right,” he looked to you before continuing as if to say ‘hey, watch this, look at me.’ He thinks he has you down. You indulge him. “So, bread in its many forms,” he lifted his fingers to start listing, “sandwiches, toast, brioche, fried bread, french toast, pizza dough, the list goes on right but at the height of it all,” he really gestured above his head to signify the detailed tier system of bread options. He added a small and useless breather to gain anticipation, it wasn’t working. “Garlic bread.” 

You snorted a laugh yourself this time. Not because he was wrong either, because he was 100% correct in fact. You were mortified that, that was your own answer. He locked eyes with you in a way that he hadn’t done before, with genuine affection, maybe even a glimmer of hope that he’d done you justice. He was captivated by you, your cheeks bursting with redness, your smile tight, starting to hurt you in fighting it. You looked so pretty right now. The glow of the lamps out in this beer garden just added to the radiance he already thought you had. He couldn’t believe a girl as pretty as you considered bread your favourite food.

He also found the noise you made to be one of the cutest things he’d ever heard, and he wished he could make you do it again someday. He really didn’t consider himself that funny though. He might have to get some drinks down you for another laugh like that. “I thought your favourite were sour patch kids?” Your sister argued, using her nails again to assist her point. Eddie quickly chimed in before you could go to correct her.

“Actually, that was her hyper fixation for a little while, ate every flavour except lemon. Which are my favourite, so it works out pretty well.” Your jaw may as well have hit the floor. He’d only known that from the car ride up here. You were about to throw the packet out before he stopped you, complaining you were wasting money and food since you left all the yellow ones. You were shocked he remembered. If you were impressed by him right now, surely everyone else had to be too, right? Wrong.

“Celebrity crush?” He answered this quicker than you or he would like to admit. You also just didn’t  know how he came to the conclusion he did and how he was so correct with it, suspicious. “Harrison Ford hands down, can’t even knock it, he’s a handsome man.” The next question went swimmingly too. “Favourite hobby?” He gave it a thought for a second, glancing to you and back, “painting, she’ll say she’s no good at it but actually she’s got a gift. I’ve never seen anyone use colour the way she does. Actually, considered using some of your work for album art.”  He turned to you towards the end, and you struggled to decipher whether it was bullshit or not. Your heart actually ached at the thought of it being true. 

“Favourite movie?” Your brother in law’s turn to ask. You threw your head back in exasperation. “What is this, the Spanish inquisition? Is this really necessary?” You looked to your sister and her future husband. “Yes!” They admitted in unison. Eddie’s hand returned to your thigh, patting it softly, his thumb rubbing soothing shapes into your bare skin. It was working. God it was working. He was like ice against your fire, the way he cooled you.

“I’ve got this.” He assured you. “Yeah, you kind of do, that’s why it’s so fucking weird.” You admitted quietly but not enough as to hide it from anyone else, deeming it safe for public consumption. He smirked. “Scared I know too much about you?” You were. You were terrified. This time you do lower your voice. “Just didn’t know you could actually read. Guess my notes were a great help after all.” You stuck your tongue out. For a second he thought about taking it in his mouth, probably some other filthier thoughts floated around his brain too. It was something about the proximity and the cocktails you’d shared, you could always blame those.

“Anything Tim Burton but her favourite would have to be the one with Winona,” he knows he has it right, but he just can’t think of the name, turning to you momentarily for help, you mouthed “Edward Scissorhands” before he nodded and repeated it. Considering it featured his own name, you’d think he would remember it. He then paused, not for dramatic effect but so he could smile to himself as he thought about why that was your favourite. “It depicts the whole Frankenstein’s monster thing just finding his way into suburbia but we as the audience” he gestured to his chest, “see a lot more heart than that, an innocent kind of love, one we all want to make us feel worthy, naive really, but ultimately sweet and sacrificing.”

You leant in, your lips close to his ear. “If we were really dating, you’d be getting your dick sucked so hard tonight.” It took every bone in his body not shut the evening down and carry you back to your hotel room with that false promise in mind. He instead tried to ignore the now throbbing sensation in his trousers. Had you always done that to him?

“Ok those are fairly standard.” In what world was his last answer not specifically catered to you? “How about a random trivia round?…” The suggestions just kept going. If this were the only worthy form of entertainment they could find, married life was going to be abysmal. “Or.” He began and this is when you really, really started to panic, like exponentially. There was nothing that could have helped him out now. Your notes only consisted of the likes, dislikes, and the fake scenario in which you first met. There was nothing else. That was the end of the script. He couldn’t be that good at improvisation. You didn’t want the opportunity to find out either. You were no casting director. He no longer had to impress you or anyone else. If they were still at odds with the situation then so be it. You couldn’t please everyone. It really shouldn’t have taken you that long to realise it. Huh. The more you know.

“I can tell you about how she makes me feel.” You really, truly would rather you didn’t know. If it’s the truth, it would hurt. If it was a lie, well that might hurt even more. You begged the universe to keep him quiet. Whatever he had to say was going to blow your cover and throw this whole shit show up in flames. Your sister seemed so keen and intrigued enough to let him continue. You however, said your final goodbyes to any future you had where you weren’t a laughing stock for the entire family. A future where Eddie Munson couldn’t reject and discard you publicly. Now it was a very real possibility, you were far more upset than you ever thought you would be. Eddie glances at you briefly, bucking up the courage to put on the biggest and most detrimental show of his entire life. 

He doesn’t face your sister when the words come tumbling from his mouth. He faced you, addressing you like he needed you to hear this and fuck, maybe he did. You actually felt touched about it until he opened his mouth. “You’re kind of a fucking weirdo.” You went to shut him up as the embarrassment crept in, but he spoke louder as he often did. “You are, you’re a freak- and it’s so, it’s refreshing.” Your mouth closed but oh, so slowly. You began to listen to him, decided to trust him. “You’re fucking nuts.” You rolled your eyes. How many ways were there, to describe you as crazy? Why did he feel the need to use all of them? “But I like it. I do. I feel like I can be myself around you.” He talked with his hands a lot as he scrambled the words, rings clinking against each other. You reached for them, settling them in your lap and he silently thanked you for it. Everything got a whole lot easier when you held his hand. 

“You make it feel okay to be a bit crazy. You don’t have to be so straight or basic, you can just, be.” Just as you started to smile, you saw that you weren’t the only one. It was working, his little speech was actually working. “I like who I am around you. Even if sometimes you don’t. I like that you tell me when I piss you off. I like that you act like you hate me when you don’t. I like that you’re so fucking stubborn and headstrong you’d never rely on anyone else and that pisses me off.” You felt tingling racing across your chest. “I love that no moment with you feels forced. That, that smile, right there could make flowers bloom.” He gestured to your face with both of your hands linked together. “That your glare could cause a fucking storm or something.” You tried not to get swept up in the fact he’d stopped saying ‘like.’ 

“I love that everything feels okay when your hand is in mine, even when you try and say you don’t like holding hands, you’re too good at it to hate it. You know exactly the right moments.” He shook his head with a disbelief. It started to feel so real. “I think I’d miss you even if I’d never met you.” His hand tightened around yours when he said his last sentence. “And I’m glad I met you. I hope one day you’ll be glad you met me too.” The rest of his speech hadn’t mattered when he uttered those words. The words that knocked the breath out of you, leaving you fighting for your life in the seat next to him. You don’t think anyone had ever referred to you so kindly in your life, even if he did call you fucking mental at least 5 times throughout. 

He couldn’t even breathe. He’d said it. He’d let it all out and now he just saw the look of shock on your face and couldn’t take a single breath, not knowing how you’d react. It was news to him too though. He could play it off as a lie, say he saw it in a movie, some chick flick or something. He’d copied it because of course he had. But then again, on the off chance you weren’t horrified, he wasn’t sure if he had any more guts left to tell you it was true. He just knew that he needed to do something. He had to fill this painful silence somehow and thankfully, he didn’t have to do it alone. 

You kissed him. You scraped your jaw off the floor, and you kissed him. You’d not kissed him like this before. Like your life depended on it. Like he was the very air you needed to breathe. Like he’d meant every word he’d just said, and you’d believed it. God you might have even felt the same. You were also slightly ashamed to say, it had your panties soaking between your thighs. Not to mention your heart thundering in your chest.

Eddie kissed you as if he were tattooing his words across your lips for all of eternity. Because for the first time throughout this whole charade, he was actually allowed to mean every word he had said, whether he knew this was how he was feeling at the start of the evening or not. Neither of you could have predicted a confession like this. Even after giving one, he wasn’t quite believing it himself. But fuck, there was freedom in it. There was a lovely form of permanence. Him knowing his words were out there for the universe to take and make with what it will. He felt weightless. It wasn’t the cocktails. Something just clicked in his brain, and he knew it. You were everything.

You melted into each other when his lips found yours. It was sweet and slow but confident, with purpose. Each stroke of his lips against yours carefully considered and carried out like clockwork. You’d felt a rush from this kiss. It was hungrier than any other you’d shared. Quite frankly it was starved. You’d pressed up against him so hard and he’d done just the same to you. His hands coming up to tilt your chin up towards him for more. As if you hadn’t been close enough already. Its only when you gasped at his touch did he slip his tongue into your mouth. You knew he’d had so much practice kissing women like this, but you couldn’t care. You allowed him inside, welcomed the way he licked into your mouth delicately. Blissfully enjoying the taste of his last cigarette on his breath, shocked that it’s not even a put off for you right now.

His words had gotten you drunker than the cocktails you’d been knocking back all evening. You almost whined when he dragged himself away from you. It was way too premature for your liking. Your eyes remained on him and only him as your hands fell back from their place atop his shoulders. You weren’t even sure when they’d gotten there in the first place, just swept away with nothing but him to guide you. 

He smiled at you; a smile you know he hadn’t been pretending. You were about to lean back in, sealing that gap between you, before you were reminded of exactly where you were. In public. Very much in public. You sank back into your seat sheepishly, heat rising to your cheeks, burning hot like lava ready to erupt. Eddie threw his arm around you, and you seized the opportunity to hide your face in the crook of his neck out of embarrassment. He thought it might be the cutest thing you could possibly have done. He even struggled to wipe the blush off his own cheeks. He felt like a school boy again. “Okay, fine, we believe you.” Your sister threw her hands up in defeat. You’d forgotten what you were even aiming to prove, your head was so flooded with hormones. It remained that way until you were back inside the hotel.

-

Back in the safety of your room, deep in the darkness, the only light being from the glowing orange streetlights outside, you found yourself nervous for what would come next. You needed a moment to think. “I’m going to take a shower.” You said softly. “Do you mind?” He shook his head, unable to speak. You’d think that after he’d already lay everything down on the table, that he’d find it easier to approach you, but he resorted back to silence. “Go ahead.” He offered. You wanted to ask him to join you. You didn’t. You just thought about it while you locked the bathroom door behind you. When you wiped off your makeup. When you turned the water on and waited for it to heat up before stripping and stepping inside. You thought about it even under the water, arm stretched out to reach you shampoo. You still didn’t.

He’s already tucked away under the sheets, while you’re in there. He thought about falling asleep, willing himself into a trance before you could return, he couldn’t. His mind was swimming with thoughts. He instead insured that the wall of cushions you’d built on night one, was as high as it ever was. There to wedge a distance between you once more. Which is what you wanted, right? It was your main housekeeping rule for sharing a bed.

“Hey." He breathed, as you returned from the bathroom, steam seeping out after you. He was nervous. You ignored it. He lay flat, facing the ceiling, his arms fastened at his sides above the covers. You shouldn’t let your eyes wander but the light had given you a clear path to follow, leading you to the tattooed arachnid of his chest. You wanted to touch it, you’re not sure why. You slipped silently into bed beside him, only you turned your back on him, willing the conversation to end. But you didn’t actually want it to be over. 

He rolled over without so much as a creak being made on the old bed. He barely even tugged the cover from you. It’s like a move too sudden would spook you and send you running, it might have, he couldn’t be certain. “Do you think the great wall of prevention might be ready to come down?” He nudged it into your back for emphasis. He didn’t want the night to end. You didn’t either. And yet, your stomach twisted to think of an excuse, a reason for it to stay very much where it was. Only you didn’t find one. “Okay.” You spoke softly. “Okay.” He repeats just as low, just making sure. You hardly felt him moving them. It was so unlike him to be so gentle, so light handed, treading carefully. He was so cautious and calculated, you never thought he had it in him. The cushions were gone. Now what?

“I’m gonna ask you something, you don’t have to say yes, but I really need to ask it so please just hear me out.” There were a million different things he could have asked you; you’d never have enough time to predict it or rehearse the correct answer, you could only breathe as you anticipated it. “Can I hold you?” It felt good to say it, even if his breath was shaky and his heart felt like it might just pack in. He really wanted to touch you. That was before he even saw you there, lay in the warm glow of the light, hair still a little damp, loose over your shoulder, your t-shirt clinging to your body.

The sheets weren’t covering your lower half as well as you’d thought they were, not now the barrier between you was down. Now he could see the lace band of your panties peeking bellow your sleep shorts. He was about to abandon the whole ordeal. Just a peek shouldn’t have been enough to stir him between his legs and maybe it wasn’t, not on its own. But if he’d counted every other occasion tonight where you’d looked too pretty, sounded too sweet, it all added up and he guessed it contributed to the problem. 

He started to worry when you didn’t answer him. You obviously weren’t asleep. You were clearly fiddling with the sheets, your fingers tugged at the material anxiously. He’d completely overstepped, he should have expected that. You weren’t together. You wouldn’t ever be together. That was all this entire weekend was supposed to be after all. Just an opportunity to fake it. How could he be so stupid? “Come here.” He looks down to see you half turned back to him, the duvet lifted, giving him even more of a view of your shorts, but he tried not to look at you too much. To just see the invitation, which was what mattered the most. 

He wasn’t sure how to approach, you couldn’t help him either. You would spoon, that was a given, you hadn’t budged your position, left him no choice but to mould his body around yours. He shuffled closer, awkwardly trying to stretch his right arm underneath your pillow without lifting your head, hurting your neck. He curled around your back, leaving inches between you, like he couldn’t quite make himself grow any closer. His left arm rested on his own hip, too afraid to reach out and touch yours. He’d asked to hold you. Why can’t he hold you? 

You took matters into your own hands. You blindly reached behind you, hands finding his. Your one superpower. You interlock your fingers with his and bring his arm around your waist, the heat of his body coming with it. You could probably feel his heart pounding chest now he allowed it to press against your back. You definitely felt the goosebumps climbing his arms when you pressed a feather light kiss to his knuckle. His heart leapt in his chest.

“What was that for?” He lifted his head, you don’t know it, but he can see enough of your face from this angle to catch the blush on your cheeks and the smile that crept onto it. He’s reassured by it. “Just felt like it.” You shrugged. Only he doesn’t buy it, but he won’t push his luck. His head hit the pillow, only this time, he’s closer to you. His nose is nearly buried in your apple scented locks. You were so sweet smelling at all times, but that apple was just so incredibly you. He knew you’d only used the stuff because it came in a green bottle too. Because only you would map your product selection on the colour alone. It was one of the first facts in your note cards, that your favourite colour was green.

Fuck. He thinks. He really fucking liked you. He wouldn’t even curse himself for it. You weren’t what he expected, and he liked that. He liked that this didn’t go to plan. He liked that he couldn’t pretend any longer. He was grinning to himself, chuckling even. He boldly buried his head in the crook of your neck like he’d done a couple of times that night but more invasively now there wasn’t much space between you. 

“What’s so funny?” You shook his hand in yours. “Hmm?” You fought a laugh yourself; his laughter was infectious; it was just stupid and cute and stupid. “Gareth was right.” He said. You turned your head back slightly, unable to see anything really, before giving up and leaning into the pillow again. “Bout what?” He leaned his head on your shoulder, lips nearing your ear. “Told me this wouldn’t work.” Interesting really, since he ushered you into asking him into this at the start. You’re suitably confused. He’s holding you, giggling in your ear, body warm against yours in this stupidly large bed that he’d made feel tiny, after convincing your family how in love you are, and he said it wasn’t working. That Gareth, your biggest influencer, had also predicted it. Well, you’d have said the opposite. 

“This isn’t working.” You have a questioning tone. “Didn’t seem like that downstairs.” You were defensive, rightly so. “No, not like that.” He started. Your grip on his hand loosened and he panicked. ‘Just say what you mean, say what you mean,’ he tells himself. “Turn over.” He leant himself up, still firmly on his side. “Why?” He rolled his eyes. “Please turn over.” He pleaded. “Whyy?” You say again. “Fuck, would you just-“ he shook his hand free from yours, placing it firmly on your hip and he twisted you, so you were flat on your back, facing up at him with surprise. He didn’t expect that to work as well as it did.

“You’re so fucking annoying.” He huffed. “Thanks.” Your arms crossed over your stomach, you tried to avoid his gaze, but he manoeuvred himself so that he was directly above you. He decided you couldn’t be trusted to keep you gaze anywhere but on him. You had to give him a shot. Your expression had softened at the sight of him. Just like he’d hoped. His stupid round cheeks. The dumb smile. Why was he always smiling? 

“I wanna kiss you.” He said. You thought he was childish. “Is holding not enough?” He shook his head. “Never enough.” He leaned in close, but he doesn’t kiss you, not yet. His forehead just pressed against yours, his lips hovered, breath tickling your own mouth. “Can I?” He begged for it. “Yes.” You breathed. He does. His lips brush yours and it’s just as nice as every other kiss he’d given you. You’re not sure why you expected it to be different all of a sudden. You just had the idea that maybe it would be. Now that you, well now that you actually liked it.

But it wasn’t different, it was exactly the same. “Eddie.” You whined. “Yeah?” He was upset that you’d interrupted such a crucial moment. “It doesn’t feel like I thought it would.” Your fingers stroked over his cheek; he arched a brow to question you. “We have kissed before; you remember that right?” He teased. You couldn’t have been that drunk. “Yes. Shut up. That’s not what I meant.” He’s still not on the same page although relieved somewhat that you were in fact sober like he thought.

In his mind that kiss was perfect, electrifying, mind blowing, the best kiss yet, you’d have known it too if you didn’t stop him so quickly. “What’s it feel like?” He tried to understand. You thought for a moment. What did it feel like? Warm, soft, sweet, he was one of the sweetest tastes. Where most men would taste of mint, Eddie didn’t. He tasted like cigarettes and the kiwi and strawberry gum he chewed to mask the scent of them on his breath. It didn’t work completely, it more meshed together into its own unique flavour.

It felt nice. “Feels normal.” You said it like it was a bad thing and he can’t understand why. “What’s so wrong with that?” You tried to shake your head. Shake some sense into yourself. You were blowing it. “Kiss me again.” You didn’t have to ask him twice. He pushed his lips against yours, harder than the first time, much harder. Barely leaving a gap between you. Suffocating you with his kiss. He feels like this time he has to try harder; he needed to give you his all. There had to be more. 

His lips glided over yours, his lips rough but still careful. His tongue poking out slowly, licking gently over your bottom lip. You part it instinctively and the second his tongue slithered across your teeth, you finally felt it. You don’t know why it took you till the second try. You’re so grateful you felt it at all, but you were panicking for a second, thinking you’d made this huge mistake because how could you let yourself fall for him after all this nonsense? Then you felt it, that spark kicking you to life. That fire in your belly, burning you up inside, begging for his coolness to dampen it down. You fucking needed him.

Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails tucking into them just a little. He’s feeling the heat radiating from you, your energy pouring into him. He’s smiling against your mouth as your tongue meets his briefly. He just knows that this time, he’s got you. “You had me worried there for a second.” He panted, not wanting to pull away but needing to say something. You kissed him over and over, distracting him. Now you’d started, you couldn’t stop. “I know, I’m so cruel.” He smirked, kissing you back just as vigorously, hand coming to your throat, resting gently on it before tilting your chin up towards him.

You captured his eyes, so dark, nearing black in the dim light. If it weren’t for the golden flecks you’d be convinced they really were that dark. “Had to be sure.” He pecked your lips. “Yeah?” You did the same. “Yeah.” He’s so close that every time his eyes closed and reopened, you felt his lashes fanning your cheeks. “And now?” He asked so hopefully, heart on the line as he waited on your answer. You wanted to make him wait, torture him a little, not tonight, tonight you were kind enough to put him out of his misery. “Now I want you.” You said. He could have punched the air with excitement. 

You’re kissing again. Scrambling around, his body lowered on top of you, one hand resting on your cheek, the other grazing your hip bone. His body shuddered when you whimpered under the weight of him. You let your legs widen as he slipped between them, all before he lifted your thigh, depositing it safely around his waist. You prayed that he didn’t immediately feel the dampness in your shorts but you’re not the only one struggling.

His hard on rubbed into you, your lips parting with surprise. “Fuck.” He muttered, momentarily halting your make out session, the heat between your thighs overwhelming him. You sensed his embarrassment, his cheeks burning with it. “Me too.” You breathed. Lips pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose as your hand slipped between you, coming down to cup his bulge boldly through his shorts. 

The groan he released is sinful, maybe even painful. He felt big. He felt impossibly big. He wouldn’t fit in your hand, maybe not even in the two of them. He thrust into your hand when he felt you touch him. It was his first instinct; he couldn’t fight it. “Shit, sorry.” You caught his lips, tugging his bottom one between your teeth, releasing it slowly. “Gonna move my hand, want you to do it again.” If he thought he was embarrassed at his neediness before, it was about to get a whole lot more mortifying. 

Your hand moved away, he was grinding his hips down into you as you’d asked, and you felt the way his cock jumped into action. “Baby.” You panted. He’s sure his heart is going to explode, maybe his cock too, probably that first. “Say it again.” He needed it. “Baby.” You kissed him. He’s rocking his hips into you, you started rotating your own, rubbing yourself over his cock, hand moving out of the way. “Baby, baby, fuck.” He’s covered your lips with his, nose mashed up against you, you can’t breathe, you don’t even want to, you wouldn’t miss the feeling. All of this felt so much more important. “Feel so good.” You whine. He never would have thought you’d be so vocal. You didn’t seem like the type. Thought you’d be a bit of a brat maybe but not this, not confident and sexy and so sure of what you wanted. He could love that; he could love you. 

“More, need more.” You’re eyes rolled back when he’s lifting your hips with both hands, pulling your core over him. His cock slipping through your folds through too many barriers of clothing. “Shit Ed.” You felt the sensation of fire burning into you, setting you alight. You’re dizzy and hot and you just felt so good against him. The friction of his shorts might have been frustrating, but it was also, so rewarding. It was such a good roughness against your clothed mound. “Are you?” He can’t even say it, too busy dragging you over his cock. “I’m, fuck, Eddie.” He doesn’t stop, not for a second, not for a beat. He makes you ride it out. He’s so stupidly proud of himself. He’d barely touched you and you’d come undone. You’d actually fucking came. “Fucking unreal for me.” He slowed himself down before he followed a similar path to destruction. 

He’s pushing your hips back down, letting your body sink into the mattress, pulling away from you to catch a breath. “I can’t believe that.” Your hand floats through your hair combing it back. He’s resting back on his knees, still between your legs. “You’re so fucking hot.” His eyes don’t look anywhere but your face. Your shirt is half way up your chest, bare tits poking out for him to see and yet, he doesn’t look.

You can’t say you share the same sentiment. Your eyes raced to the outline of his erection in them grey basketball shorts. You drank in the sight before you and your teeth clamped down into your lower lip. He reached down to squeeze your thigh. “My eyes are up here.” He gestured with his index and middle finger. You smirked up at him. “Kind of wish they weren’t.” You didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah?” You nodded. Eyes falling back to his very, large problem that he now palmed through his clothing. Shit, even his own hand wouldn’t cover him.

“Gonna keep looking or do you feel like helping?” His voice was awfully steady for someone ready to come apart at the mere thought of your touch. “You want me to?” You’re not sure what you’re asking. “Need you to.” He said. You sat yourself up. “Gonna take this shirt off me first?” You looked up at him, eyes wider than he’d ever seen, somehow so innocent even though you were anything but. “Of course, I am.” His hands didn’t waste any time lifting the material off over your head. You felt the bite of a chill rush over you, your nipples hardening, perking up with it. “So, very, sexy.” He can’t believe his luck. You’re amazed that you don’t feel shy, being so exposed to him. Guess that was good, it felt natural, you felt safe. 

“Gonna help you.” You warned, hands slipping down into his shorts. You gasped at the immediate contact with his bare skin. “No underwear.” He smirked down at you. “Fucking slut.” Your hand cupped him just like before, yeah, definitely needs more than one hand. “You love it.” He chanted “I do.” You confirmed, squeezing him hard. The rush of air that left his mouth, oh it made this all so worth it. You tried to be bolder, you took his length in your palm for the first time. You gripped him tight and moaned in unison. He moaned at the feeling of finding home in your soft touch. You moaned; at the way your hand can’t even wrap around him fully. He’s too thick, too girthy, there wasn’t enough of you to take it all. 

“Do something.” He urged, forehead leaning on yours for stability more than anything else. “Ah right, that’s what I was doing.” You play as you sprang to action, your hand lifting to the throbbing head of his cock, letting the trickles of beaded cum roll into your palm before you can cover him in it using it whilst you twist your hand up and down his length. “Ohh, fuck.” It came out gravelly. He’d never thought much of hand jobs, said no to many throughout his life, never being worth the time, never feeling as good as his own hand. This though. You. Your hand. You touched him and he swore your hand was made to hold his cock. Even if that sounded ridiculous, there had to be some way of it being true because he felt so good. His cock was slick and hot, it glided through your grip with ease and your tightened fist on him, it was incredible.

You knew to tug him hard at the base, to loosen around his tip. To constantly use his pooling arousal to your advantage. You worked his cock better than anyone else could, maybe even better than him. You weren’t rushing, you didn’t wank him hard begging for it all to be over, getting bored of the feeling. No, you just touched him. Switching your pace. Listening to his hot little sounds. Paying attention to what made him twitch, what made him rut his hips into your palm. You loved touching him, you wanted to touch him forever, every which way you could. 

He started fucking your hand. He’s not sure he can stop himself and you’re so turned on by it you actually moan. “What are you doing to me?“ He’d never felt like this before. You’d made him so weak. He was desperately thrusting into your fist like a pathetic little virgin, and you were moaning. He had to be making this up, you weren’t real, none of this could have been real. “Fuck Ed.” You’re soaked at the idea of it all, you even clenched down on fucking nothing, the thought of him inside you instead of just the palm of your hand, it’s too much to bear. “Need to fuck me.” You quicken your pace, your hand tugging at him desperately. “Fuck, fuck. Stop, you gotta stop.” He doesn’t want you to, God knows he doesn’t, but if you don’t, he’s gonna fucking bust all over your perfect little hand. 

He forced your hand out of his shorts and you have the audacity to pout up at him when he does. “You’re something fucking else.” He pushed you back, your head drops happily onto your pillow. “Something good I hope.” You toyed with him, and he is about to lose it. “Take these off.” He tugged at your own shorts, and you didn’t budge. “Off.” He commands, climbing off the bed, feet hitting the cold wooden floor of the hotel room. 

You shifted behind him, pulling your shorts and panties down your thighs, tossing the material to the general vicinity of your shirt. Your hands are once again in your hair, combing through it with nerves just eating away at you. You ached for him. Your thighs were squeezed so tightly shut you thought he might never pry them open again. You were on edge, literally dying there waiting. He’d dropped his shorts; they’d hit the ground quietly. He stepped out of them quickly, hand lifting to touch himself, he let out a quiet hiss when he did. He was so turned on, cock so tight and hot in his hand, he’d bury himself in you and never wish to leave. 

He climbed back onto the bed, settling on his knees like he had before. His hand rolled delicately across his tip, soaking himself still, using his own arousal to ready himself for you. His cock had a wet sheen in the light. You thought it looked even more delicious now with a coating like that. Perhaps your legs would part after all. “You sure?” He thinks he knows your answer, but he’d hate himself if he didn’t check. This had all been so perfect, better than he could have ever imagined because God, his imagination wasn’t half as creative enough to make you up. You were far better than anyone he’d ever known. The more he knew you, the better you got. Each and every layer, prettier or wittier or more perfect. You must have been real. Real and a gift made just for him because you had him hook line and sinker. He was dumb to credit himself for thinking he imagined you a few moments ago.

“Fuck me.” You spoke. He shook his head. Leaning over you, tip throbbing hard when it breached your walls for the first time before making a heady retreat, running through your slick, wet, lips instead. “Can’t.” He said. Running his cock up and down, eyes flickering shut, throat drying with his pure fucking thirst for you. “Why not?” You furrowed your brow. He’s right there, all he had to do was enter you. You could just lift your hips and he’d slip his fat cock inside. “Can’t call this fucking, not when you feel this good.” You think you might have passed out when pushed inside of you. “Oh, fuck.” He covered your lips to catch your moan. He didn’t think about the fact he’d be sinking in further, bottoming out, pelvis to pelvis with you when he did. 

Your legs wrapped around him so tightly your heels began to dig into his tasty, round backside. You fasten him in place intentionally. You needed to feel him. Needed to feel him in his entirety, pulsing inside you. He bit down on your shoulder till he tasted a metal zing of fresh blood, he’d apologise at a later date. For now, he needed it. You were sopping wet around him, engulfing his cock in a warm, tight sleeve. With each breath you took he slipped a little bit further inside. You felt so full you’d felt him bulging in your stomach, so far inside you it even hurt you.

“I need to move, gotta let me move.” He locked eyes with you before you nodded, loosening your legs, letting him withdraw his hips, pulling right back away from you, tip nearly leaving the crevice of your wetness. Then he pushed back in, all the way, hips against hips and you fucking moaned. You moaned so loud he thought he hurt you, ready to withdraw and panic at that thought. But then you lifted your hips to meet his. You meet his next thrust and then the next, and the next. You don’t let him do a damn thing without your involvement. You needed to be in this together because what’s the fucking point if you can’t give each other your all? 

“You’re so wet, soaking me.” You can only sigh, you’re not sorry, he got you so damn good he ought to be proud. “So damn hot. Gonna need to change the fucking sheets.” He rambled on. His hands dig delicious bite marks into your hips. Yours place a similar attack atop his shoulders. “Feel unreal.” You captured his lips in a needy kiss, chest pushing up as your back arched involuntarily. “Very real, so fucking real.” You muttered. As your back arched further, Eddie found a place within you, a sensitive spot he angled into unexpectedly. A place you’d only ever touched yourself. You shook, and you clenched down on him, hard. 

He’d be an idiot not to notice it. You were clamping down so much he worried he’d lose circulation all together. “You want me dead don’t you?” He slammed his hips down into you. “Won’t be happy till I’m not fit for anyone else, that it?” His chest flattened against yours, his cock reaching that angle even more intrusively than before and you’re about to scream for it.

He’s got so much pressure leaning against it you’re about to crumble and he doesn’t even know it. “Eddie.” You panicked, hands snaking into his hair, tugging his brown ringlets. He couldn’t get any closer to you and yet you needed it, wanted him covering you. “Fuck, you’re, fuck are you cumming?“ He leaned his head back, looking down into your eyes, you have tears brimming in them and he can’t believe it, he was so right. “Please, please don’t stop.” Your voice came out so weak, soft, precious, and broken and he thought you sounded like a needy little princess when you begged for him like that. “Anything, anything for you.” He meant it too. 

His hand wrapped around your throat loosely and tenderly as he coaxed your second orgasm from you. Your scream caught in your throat. He kissed you hard, breathing life erratically back into you. The way you tightened around his cock has his eyes roll back into his skull, his teeth biting down hard on your plump, cherry lips. He’s so close to cumming himself, but he will not let himself go until you’ve done it first. He had to make it through. He had to feel the way you came around his dick for the first time. Needed it imbedded in his brain as the religious experience it certainly felt like it would be.

“Eddie, Eddie,” you’re not even aware you’re yelling his name out there. You just do it. That’s what gets him in the end. Your pretty little voice wrapping around his name, securing the idea that he was in fact the guy who’d made you crumble into a mess in these sheets, twice. It was all him. “Where, fuck, where do you-“ he can’t even say it, can’t get the words out. “In me, need it in me, please baby.” 

He did as you asked, his hips pulsing into you, cock sputtering, leaking his hot cum inside you. You felt it all. Deep inside, covering you, damning you. You were claimed from the inside out. There wasn’t a single piece of you that wasn’t marked as his now. If you hadn’t felt full before, you certainly did now. His cum filling you entirely, anything his cock couldn’t previously reach was now pressured by him cum flooding inside you and it was so unbelievably good. You sighed heavily at the thought of it. “So, fucking good.” You muttered. Him filling you was just so erotic to you. He’d felt exactly the same because of course he did, he was made for you. He loved that you’d let him take you like that. It felt heavenly pouring himself into you, coating you in his colours. Pulling out might just be the hardest thing he’d ever have to do. 

His body covered yours. He’s no strength to hold himself above you, but no way of pulling away just yet. You’d not minded his weight at all. You’d actually enjoyed it, felt comforted by it. Even if your bodies were sweat soaked and desperately in need of another shower, it felt nothing but perfect lying here a little longer. Your fingers massaged into his scalp, he hummed at the relief of your touch. His breathing slowed down, softly blowing over your chest where his head lay comfortably.

You decided you loved the sound of him breathing. You can’t explain exactly why that is, but it offered you some kind of comforting stimulation that you think you’d listen to happily for hours. The mere existence of him, being enough to soothe you. “So that, uh-“ he licked his bottom lip, wetting the dryness there. “That happened.” You heart leaped and you know he felt it. “Don’t make it weird.” You nearly begged. “I’m not making it weird.” You poked his head. “You’re making it weird.” You accused, poking him again. “Would you stop?”

He lifted his head this time to avoid another attack. Well fuck. If he thought you looked beautiful before, it had nothing on the way you looked now. You were flustered and tired, your eyes wet with tears and probably sweat and yet, gorgeous. “You’re staring.” He hated you. “I can’t stop.” He’s lying. He could, he just never wanted to. “What will people think?” You gasped. “How will we tell them?” He continued, following your train of thought like he’d conjured it himself.

“Well, what do we actually have to tell? You know, to get our story straight.” He knew that was your not-so-subtle way of asking what you were, after all of this, but he doesn’t mind it because he’d also liked to know. As cliché as it was. It really did happen that fast. “Well,” he rubbed your cheek with the back of his hand, watching as your face leaned into his touch. “Your family think we’re in love so, that’s kind of handled.” You laughed. “That you’re way of confessing your love for me?” You dig with a smile. “No.” Yes. But it was way too soon to verbalise that. Sure, you’d known him for a while, but this weekend was the closest you’d ever been. And yeah, he may have felt it in his bones, but he wasn’t crazy enough to admit it to you. Jesus Christ. “So, it’s just, everyone else.” He nodded, then repeated after you. “Everyone else.” Easier said than done. 

“What if I uh, slip you another 200?” He rolled his eyes. Only you would ask that. “Oh, because I haven’t whored myself out enough?” You grinned. “Well, if the shoe fits baby.” He nudged your nose with his own. “No but seriously, what would 200 get me?” You tried to deadpan but the smile refused to leave you. “I’m refunding it by the way.” You feigned shock. “My money not good enough for you Munson?” He looked at you with a ‘you really asking me that?’ look on his face. Though technically, you hadn’t actually given the money to him yet. “Only asked for it because I knew it’d piss you off sweetheart.” That hadn’t surprised you at all. “I dragged my ass to the bank for nothing.” He thought he might howl with laughter. 

“You got cash out?” There he goes, those chubby fucking cheeks, the crinkling eyes. “You actually withdrew 200 bucks for me?” You wanted the bed to swallow you whole. “I DON’T EXACTLY HAVE YOUR BANK DETAILS EDWARD!” You yelled and he laughed harder, nearly rolling off you all together until he remembered he was still very much inside of you. “I’m so fucking dumb.” You face palmed with the embarrassment of it all. “You kinda are.” He agreed. He knew you’d hate his lack of support. “I like em dumb though.” He also knew he deserved the flick you gave him. “We’ll get you to the bank tomorrow, don’t you worry babe.” This time you didn’t flick him. “Not going anywhere tomorrow.” You sighed, arms wrapping around him. His stomach fluttered when you held him like that. “Why, what you got planned?“ He nuzzled his face happily into your breast, his spare hand squishing the other nicely. “Gonna get my fucking money’s worth that’s what.” 

[fairy-writes]

FAIRY!!! CONGRATULATIONS ON 1K FOLLOWERS!! MAY MANY MORE COME!!! :O <3

May I request Edward Elric with the action propmpt 10? That would be awesome!! <3

APPLE PIES

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

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Fandom(s): Fullmetal Alchemist

Pairing(s): Edward Elric x Gender Neutral!Reader

Prompt: Putting their head on their lover’s shoulder (Action Prompt #10)

Notes: POST-FMAB EVENTS

AND THANK YOU RU

This is for my 1K followers event! It’s going on between June 8th and June 22nd!

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Even after all Father had put you through, some things never changed. 

That thing being Edward’s obnoxious love for apple pies. 

Specifically Gracia’s recipe. She had been kind enough to gift you and Winry the recipe years ago. The scrap of paper was well-loved and worn out, stained with butter, and the writing barely legible. But that didn’t matter. You knew the recipe by heart after years of making it for your lover. 

Your forearms were covered in flour, and you were pretty sure you had something on your face as you worked butter into your dry ingredients. Your hands felt sticky with dough, but you didn’t mind. This would make Edward happy, and that alone made your day. 

It always did. 

Especially after all he had gone through growing up and through his young adult life. 

You cracked an egg on the corner of the bowl and added it to the dough mixture, mixing everything by hand until you had the consistency you wanted. It had grown warm in the process, so you stuck it in the ice box to chill for at least an hour while you got to work on the filling. 

Two tablespoons of lemon juice. Nine apples peeled, cored, and sliced into wedges. Both went into a bowl with some sugar and tossed until combined. Then a skillet was turned on, and everything was put in with more butter and mixed until the apples were soft. The scent of fruit filled the air, making your mouth water, and you felt giddy at the idea of eating the dessert later. 

You may not have been Edward, but you still loved a good apple pie now and then. 

Just then, warm arms wrapped around your waist, and a chin was put on your shoulder. 

“What are you making?” Came Edward’s voice, and you hummed, leaning your head on his as you tossed the apples once again in the skillet. The sugar was melting. It was almost time. 

“Apple pie. You asked for one last week.” You said warmly and felt him grin as he turned his head to place a kiss where your shoulder met your neck. 

“You remembered?” At this, you huff out a laugh,

“Have I ever forgotten something?” You say, and he thinks it over, pecking your cheek this time. 

“No. It’s like Ling said. Something about elephants never forgetting. Wait, no—Alphonse said that in one of his letters. He’s studying them with May Chang in between alkahestry lessons.” He said, tapping his fingers against your waist. 

You gently pry his arms away from around you, ignoring his whine, and go to pull the dough from the fridge, turning off the stovetop as you do so.

“Now that you’re here, you can help me.” You say, and he raises an eyebrow,

“You’re trusting me in the kitchen? I thought I was banned after Valentine’s Day.” He says but grabs an apron from where it’s hanging on the wall nonetheless. You hold a finger up, smearing some flour on his nose,

“I’m trusting you with supervision. Don’t think I’ll let you in the kitchen with anything less than that. Alphonse can cook better than you, and he didn’t even have a body growing up!”

Edward mutters under his breath, something about how “that isn’t fair,” but he smiles at you nonetheless when he notices you watching him tie the apron.

“Like what you see?” He teases, and you offer a mischievous grin. “I always do.” You retort and delight in the way his cheeks flush a pretty pink.

You quickly put Edward to work with the dough from the ice box. You carefully instruct him how to make pie crust and are actually rather impressed with how they turn out. Soon, you have two perfectly constructed pie crusts ready to be filled. 

Maybe you can actually trust your lover in the kitchen. But then you remember the burnt attempt at breakfast from Valentine’s Day. 

Like you had said before, he’s allowed in the kitchen with supervision.

You blink and are torn from your thoughts when something is smeared on your cheek. You look up from where you are preparing the second pie to see Edward with that grin of his that means he’s up to no good. Egg yolk is coating his finger, and you assume that’s what he just put on your face. 

“You're supposed to be brushing the pie. Not my face.” You say, and he laughs. 

It’s one of your favorite sounds in the world. 

“Just seeing if you’re paying attention.” He says, and you smile. His own grin softens as you step into his side, wrapping a flour-stained hand around his waist. 

“I love you, y’know?” You whisper, and he gently grasps your chin, turning you to face him, and kisses you so gently as if you’ll break. He tastes like stolen pie filling, but you don’t mind. 

He’s so gentle with his love. He always has been. 

It was one of the things you love about him. 

And it was soft, domestic times like this that you treasured the most. 

[ladykailitha]

The Magic of Christmas Part 3/8

Just an extra long chapter here because they didn't want to shut up. They're getting closer and their best friends are slowly coming on board to the idea.

Part 1 Part 2

***

Eddie was vibrating. Chrissy had done a total deep dive into this guy and other then being a bratty teenager and having shit parents there was nothing in Steve’s closet that would set off alarm bells.

Steve Harrington just knew how to deal with people to get what he wanted. He knew when to back off, too. In fact, Eddie was trying to get the dude stop backing off so much.

He was a people pleaser with eroded boundaries. And while that was certainly a problem, it wasn’t a ‘might be a serial killer’ problem like Chrissy thought.

So yeah, Eddie was vibrating because he was going to show Steve his first set of sketches for him to okay the design.

Steve was late. He had called to let him know he would be late. A meeting had gone over and he would be there as soon as he could.

Eddie pulled out his drawing pad and flipped through the designs he had come up with. He itched to pull out a pencil and “fix” a line or seven. But he had to refrain. If he started on it he would be so far down the rabbit hole that he would have three new designs before Steve got here.

A shadow crossed over him and he looked up to see Steve standing there.

“Steve!” he greeted warmly, getting to his feet.

They shook hands and then sat down.

“So what have you got for me?” Steve asked eagerly, leaning on his forearms to see Eddie’s drawing pad.

Eddie grinned at him. “I’ve got loads, big boy.” He turned the drawing pad around and Steve paid diligent attention to each piece.

He went back to the third design and turned it back to face Eddie. “I like this one. But I have one suggestion, if I may?”

Eddie shrugged. “Sure.”

“What if the dragon’s wings spread out over the four other pieces connecting them?” Steve asked, biting on his lip.

Eddie began to sketch furiously while Steve watched in fascination.

“Have you ever thought about streaming your process?” Steve asked. “It’s very enthralling.”

Eddie’s head jerked up like he’d forgotten Steve was there at all. He looked down at his pad and blushed. “I never thought I’d have the patience for it, you know? The whole explaining it while I’m doing it.”

Steve nodded. “I can see why that might deter you. But if you just drew or painted and put music over the top, I think it would do very well.”

“And would you be my first subscriber?” Eddie teased.

“Hell yeah!” Steve said with a grin. “And I would tell everyone I know to subscribe too.”

“I’ll think about it.”

He slid the drawing back over to Steve, who grinned.

“Perfect.”

*

“Edward Allen Munson!” Chrissy hissed as she threw open the door to their loft. “You tell me right now: are you joking about the YouTube channel?”

Eddie looked up from his sketching and blinked at her. “I thought you’d be pleased.”

She walked over to where he had sprawled out in front of the five canvasses and flopped down across from him. “I am pleased but only if you aren’t trying to butter me up to leave you alone about your ridiculous crush.”

Eddie opened and closed his mouth, licking and smacking his lips as he struggled for words.

“It’s about the crush but not in the way you mean…?” he said with a grimace.

She crossed her legs and put her elbows on her knees. She rested her head on her knuckles to stare him down. He wiggled and squirmed under her gaze.

“Explain.”

So Eddie did.

Chrissy rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “So no talking but what if I convinced you to let me write words to put up on the screen while you paint talking about the subject matter and why you chose it?”

“Oh!” he said brightly. “Even better! Why don’t I talk about D&D or music while I paint? That way I can babble to my hearts content without out having to drone on about the process.”

She blinked at him. “Eddie Munson you are a genius.” She rose up on her still crossed legs and kissed him soundly on the forehead. “I love it and you.”

Eddie blushed and went back to his sketching.

*

“Steve!” Dustin screamed into his ear when he picked up the phone mere days after his last meeting with Eddie.

“God, kid,” Steve groaned. “Tone it down. I don’t want to go deaf please.”

He could practically feel the eye roll from here.

“Eddie Munson has a YouTube channel!” Dustin continued to scream. “Oh my god do you know how big this is?!”

“One, I need to you to breath before you pass out from lack of oxygen to your brain,” Steve said. “You like your brain, don’t abuse it like this.”

Dustin let out a slow shuddering breath. “Right. I’m breathing.”

“Good,” Steve said slowly. “And two, I know about the channel because he told me about it.”

“You already know?” Dustin squawked. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Steve sighed. “Look at the clock and tell me what time it is?”

“2:37pm. Why?”

“What time did the channel go live?” Steve asked, pinch the bridge of his nose.

“About one.”

“And where would you have been at one?” he asked, his eyes fluttering shut against the audacity of this kid.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, bud,” Steve said. “Oh. You were in class. Which I still don’t understand why you are taking summer classes. You’re young, you should enjoy your life.” He tilted his head. “How did you find out so fast anyway?”

“I follow Eddie on twitter, Facebook, Instragram, and his fan Discord server.” This was said as though it was obvious.

“Well now you have one more place to follow him,” Steve said ignoring the tone.

“Steve…” Dustin said, his voice low and dangerous. “Why are you his first subscriber?”

“Look, Dustin,” he said trying to keep the giggle in his throat from bursting through, “I’ve got to run. I have a meeting.”

“Stev–”

Steve sighed as he held the phone against his forehead, grateful they weren’t in person.

“Yeah, Steve,” Robin said from the doorway, “why were you his first subscriber?”

He blushed a dark red. “Because I promised I would be when I suggested the channel three days ago?”

Robin narrowed her eyes. “I see.”

Steve wasn’t sure what she saw, but he knew he would find out soon enough.

*

Eddie was working on Dustin’s first because he felt like it was the most important to get right. Wizards were usually portrayed as dusty old men and it appeared that this kid had done the same. But then the character was created ten years ago.

But Eddie decided to avoid a Gandolf/Dumbledore looking dude and went more for a Jafar that had gotten the time to grow old. A neat goatee, a sharp piercing gaze and weather-beaten skin.

His robe had stars on it according to Will the Wise’s picture of them. So he decided to make the robe look it was filled with swirling galaxies and nebulae.

Eddie was working on the cave background when his phone chirped. He tucked his paintbrush behind his ear and pulled it out.

Rich Pretty Boy: I got ahold of a couple of friends of mine that are going to help promote your charity. Nancy Wheeler is an investigative journalist most of the time but she owes me a favor and is willing to interview you about the charity to get it seen on a national platform. I’ll email you the details.

Eddie blinked at his phone in shock. Nancy Wheeler was the new and improved Barbara Walters (improved as in she wasn’t an ass to the people she was interviewing.) That must be a huge fucking favor she owed Steve if he got her for this.

EM: Holy shit! What kind of blackmail do you have on her for this?

RPB: LOL! I’m sworn to secrecy, sorry. :(

EM: All right, keep your secrets.

RPB: That’s LotR, right?

EM: Correct. I know you keep telling me you aren’t a nerd, but dude every time we talk I gather more and more evidence to the contrary.

RPB: I blame Dustin. He wore me down.

EM: Then I take it upon myself to complete the education that Sir Dustin has begun!

EM: Meet me at my loft on Friday at 8pm. We are going to start with the animated classics of the 80s!

RPB: Beer or wine?

EM: Beer.

EM: I’ll see you later, pretty boy. I have this huge project I’m working on that is on a deadline.

RPB: Curse the bastard that’s taking up all your time. ;)

Eddie laughed out loud.

EM: He’s the worst. ;)

RPB: See you on Friday, Eds.

EM: Laters!

Eddie put his phone down with a fond smile on his face. It was absolutely ridiculous how much he loved this beautiful idiot that had come in and swept him off his feet.

*

“Tell me again why I have to be here for this?” Chrissy complained for the fifth time that hour.

“Because fair Christine,” Eddie said through gritted teeth, “it’s not a date and he’s bringing his best friend.”

“How is his secretary his best friend anyway?” she groused, folding her arms and burying herself into the big fluffy sofa.

Eddie rolled his eyes and flopped down next to her. “They were friends before he took over the business. They had worked together in every job they’ve ever had so when he took over he put the one person he could trust in front of his office to shield himself from the assholes who make his life a living hell.”

Chrissy pursed her lips. “Fine.”

He kissed her cheek and went to go get the popcorn and candy.

“You ever going to tell this Steve you have a hard on for him?” she asked as he kept swapping bowls around for best placement.

“No,” Eddie said firmly. “Not while he’s paying me, anyway.”

She shrugged. “I guess that’s fair. It’s just...”

“That I have it so bad my only two thoughts are painting and Steve?” he finished for her.

“And me,” she agreed. “But pretty much.”

He put his head on her shoulder. “I’ve never fallen this hard for a person before. He’s sweet and funny and an absolute dork.”

Chrissy kissed the top of his head. “I’ll be good tonight. No bitching or being mean.”

Eddie snorted. “He’s also a queen bitch. So you can be you all you want. Just...”

She turned on the sofa, bringing her knees up to her chest. “But what?”

“When he starts gushing about something don’t...” he floundered for the right words. “Just don’t make him feel small about it.”

Chrissy tilted her head to side. “Has people made him feel small about his interests?”

Eddie nodded. “I think his parents were like yours, if I’m honest.”

“Rich, entitled assholes who wanted a doll and not a child?” she asked bitterly. He nodded. She sighed heavily. “Yeah okay. You got me. I know the signs and will adjust accordingly.”

He threw his arms around her and gave her a wet sloppy kiss on the cheek.

Just then the doorbell rang.

“They’re here,” Eddie said nervously.

Chrissy leaned down to look at him. “Do you want me to answer the door to give you a second to prepare?”

He nodded.

She gave his hands a squeeze and gracefully slid off the couch to do just that. She bounded over to the door and threw it open. And yeah, objectively she knew what Steve looked like, but seeing him out of his trademark blue power suit was a revelation. And immediately she got why Eddie fell hard for this guy.

He was wearing a David Bowie t-shirt from his Ziggy Stardust era and tight, light blue jeans. His sneakers were Nike’s, and his watch was Schwartz but those were the only major shows of wealth.

Next to him was not what she was expecting either. Chrissy was expecting someone more bookish. Glasses, frumpy. Or even the extreme opposite, a fashion plate. Someone who fit the sexy secretary stereotype. But nope.

She was fashionable, Chrissy had to give her that, but not in the way she thought. Billowy pants with a long-sleeved button up with sleeves rolled up to her elbows and pair of colorful suspenders. Her blonde hair was artfully tousled and she had freckles on her nose and cheeks.

In short, Chrissy was in love.

“Hi!” she greeted as though her heart wasn’t going to leap out of her chest to prostrate itself before this lovely maiden, only for her stomp all over it.

“Hey,” Steve smiled back. “You must be the agent/best friend, Chrissy I’ve been hearing so much about. It’s nice to put a name to the face.”

The woman elbows him. “Face to the name, dingus.”

Steve flushed. “I’m so glad I have you here to correct me.”

“Come on in,” Chrissy said warmly, moving out of the way for them to enter the loft. Inwardly she briefly wondered if maybe the best friend was the cause of the “limiting” as Eddie called it.

“Thanks!” he said and then pointed to the woman next to him. “This is Robin my platonic soulmate, best friend, and all around Stevie wrangler. I don’t know what I would do without her.”

“Aww,” Robin said with a smile and hip check.

Steve stumbled but laughed, too.

By the time they reach the living area Chrissy still wasn’t sure what to think about these two.

Eddie leapt to his feet at the sight of them.

“Stevie! Robin!” he greeted brightly. “You found the place okay?”

Robin nodded. “I’m glad you gave us directions on top of the whole GPS otherwise we would have ended up in some cemetery.”

Chrissy grimaced. “Yeah. But that cemetery was here before the condos and high rises so I can’t complain. Even though I really, really want to.”

“How old is the cemetery?” Steve asked eagerly.

She looked over at Eddie for help. “I don’t actually know.”

“Uh...” Eddie said unhelpfully. “I don’t know exactly but I know it’s over a century old.”

Steve lit up. “That’s so cool.”

“You like old graveyards, Steve?” Chrissy asked. She sat down on the sofa and grabbed the bag of popcorn.

“Steve is obsessed with them,” Robin said playfully.

“Am not,” he said and then turned to Chrissy and Eddie. “I’m really not. I just think it’s super neat.”

“What makes them so neat?” Eddie asked, taking the beer from Steve and setting it on the table with the array of goodies.

“Like seeing a bunch of people with similar death years knowing that it was because of a pandemic,” Steve said. “Or on Memorial Day going to see all the American flags for those that died during war time. It’s all just endlessly fascinating.”

“I could take you some time,” Eddie said. “Have a picnic lunch, make a day out of it.”

“You’d do that?” he asked eagerly.

Chrissy bumped Eddie’s shoulder. “Eddie here likes graveyards because they’re spooky.”

Steve laughed. “That’s a great reason to like graveyards.”

They settled down to watch the movies Eddie had picked out for them. A double feature of “The Hobbit” and “The Return of the King”.

“Holy shit!” Steve said afterwards. “How did they get more faithful to the books in less time than Peter Jackson?”

Eddie laughed. “Good story telling.”

They finally left for the night and Eddie closed the door behind them.

“Thoughts?” Eddie asked.

“And prayers,” Chrissy said. “Holy fuck do you have it bad. And I’ll swear under oath that if there is a god, he made Steve especially for you.”

He blushed. “Fuck, you can’t say that.”

“Why not?” she asked raising an eyebrow.

“Because it feels that way for me, too,” he whined, “and if you think that too, then I’m royally fucked.”

Chrissy sighed. “Yeah.”

***

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child @carlprocastinator1000 @mogami13 @samsoble

[prettypinkporkchop]

Could I please get a Leah x fem reader where it’s r who saves Leah from that vampire instead of jacob. A little angst beforehand tho where Leah was completely against the imprint bond cause of Sam?

You are absolutely distraught with how Leah is handling your love for her. You were all just outside having a fun time at Emily's when you decided to grab her hand. She yelled at you and went inside the house. It left everyone in awkward silence.

You cough back some tears and stand up. "Hey, guys. I think I should head home." You fake smile.

"Hey.. no." Emily grabs your wrist.

"No, I'm okay!" You insist.

"You know Leah won't let you leave. The newborn army is here." Embry says.

"I don't care. I've got to go." You try to leave but Jared grabs you and lifts you over his should.

"Jare, careful." Kim says softly.

"Jared! Put me down! Now!" You yell.

"Nope. You're an imprint. You stay here." He says. He tries to set you down but you try to leave again.

"Uh, uh!" Embry stands up fast and grabs you.

"Y/n. Hey." Sam walks up to you and touches your face. "I know what happened is very shitty. But, at the end of the day, you're hers and you're to stay here." He says softly.

You glare into his eyes. "She hates me because of you, Sam." You hiss.

He nods his head in understanding. "I know." He whispers. "But it's fate. We don't control the universe." He smiles.

You sigh and look down at your feet before turning behind you to look at Embry. "I'm not going. Let me go." You say.

He let's you go, and you stay put as told.

----

You sniffle against your pillow. You're in Leah's bed, and she's preparing for you to stay in the cold with Jacob, Edward, and Bella.

She sighs, walking into her room, dropping the bag at the end of the bed. "I can hear you crying." She says.

"Good for you." You mumble.

"Don't act like a child." She moves around, putting stuff in the bag.

You're too exhausted to fight her. Mentally. You've been nothing but loving to her, and she just refuses you. You know she feels what you feel because that one day plays in your head over and over...

Your hands touch as she hands you the drink at the bonfire. She stops and locks eyes with you. She has that same look she had when she imprinted on you. She smiles for just a moment before dropping it and walking away.

Sam and Emily shouldn't even be a thought between you two. It hurts that she still feels for Sam. You just want her and only her.

"You're doing it again." She says coldly.

"Doing what?" You stay put in your spot, facing the wall.

"Crying." She hisses.

You reach your hand up and touch your cheeks. You didn't realize that during that flashback, you had started crying again. "Sorry." You mumble.

She grabs your shoulder, pulls you onto your back, and looks over your face. "I may not want to care about you, but I do. I'm going to protect you. After this, I need you to deny the bond." She orders.

You stop breathing for a moment.

"Y/n, listen. I hurt you. I'm hurting. I don't want to do this to us. Please, just forget about me. It'll make things easier." She runs her thumb over your chin before getting up and leaving the room.

----

Holy. Shit. You've never been so fucking cold. You have two pounds of clothes on with blankets all on top of you. You're still a chattering mess.

Jacob opens the tent and looks over you. "Jesus Christ. Leah left you like this?" He asks.

"Go away, Jake." You shiver, not wanting to hear his comments.

"I can hear Bella, too. I'm going to get Leah." He leaves.

You're too cold to even worry about anything else. You feel like you're going to freeze to death. A few minutes later but it felt like an hour, Leah comes in. She zips the tent closed and then lays next to you.

"Edward couldn't have chosen a better spot for you two, huh?" She chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.

You just sit there, shivering. She pulls your face into her chest and basically covers her body with yours. This is an instant relief. Your breathing is slowly going to its normal pace. Your thoughts are becoming clearer. You begin to get very weak and tired. You end up passing out before anything.

Leah wakes you up gently, rubbing your shoulder. "Y/n, up. I have to go. Stay here with Edward and Bella. Seth will be here, too." She says very quickly.

You're only given a second to process what was said, and she's out of the tent. You get out as well and see Bella, Edward, and Seth there.

"It's about to start." Edward says.

Bella reaches over to touch your arm. "You okay?"

"Yes." You nod your head.

"Jake just got there."

Bella breathes in.

"He's good."

You sit there and listen in on the battle. It seems to be going smoothly. Until Riley pulls up, looking all edgy and shit. Edward and Riley exchange words when Seth grabs him, tearing him apart. But Victoria comes in, and now her and Edward are fighting. Bella grabs a rock and cuts her arm. She looks at you and shrugs as if she has no other idea. Which, same.

----

After that, you all go out there to join the others. You see the vampires chatting and some wolves leaving to go shift.

"Wait!" Edward calls out.

A forgotten newborn comes out and grabs Leah by the neck. You're quick to get close enough to the vampire. You're so close, Leah's paw almost hit you.

"Y/n! No!" Some of the Cullens call to you.

The vampire sniffs, letting Leah go and stepping to you. He grabs your neck and you close your eyes, hoping for the fucking best.

Then, his grip is gone. You open your eyes, and Leah is tearing him apart. Once she's done, she looks at you, huffs, and joins her pack.

"Brave imprint." You turn to see Rose smirking.

"Thanks, I think." You laugh awkwardly.

Then, you see a petite girl with red eyes. She looks scared.

"She's with us." Carlisle says.

"Y/n, you're stupid! You know that? Stupid!" Leah grabs your arm and pulls you with her away from the vampires.

You see the volturi walking up in the distance. Thank God you're leaving, they're scary.

"I am stupid. But I love you." You finally spit and jerk your arm from her hand.

She turns and looks at you. "I love you, too. You stupid idiot." She grabs your face and kisses you.

This shocks the hell out of you, but you kiss back and melt into her mouth. The feeling is better than you've ever imagined. Her hands pull you closer, and you wrap your arms around her neck. She pulls away and looks down at you.

"Never do that again. Do you hear me?" She says sternly.

"Yes." You reply, out of breath.

She presses a soft kiss to your cheek before pulling you along with her through the woods to the Uley's.

[djs-sideblog-for-pog-trains]

traintober day 7, Sleepy | The Clock

so... not to come in swinging with my second day of making traintober stuff being the 7th day of traintoberrrrr but it's fine. for today's entry i wrote 1.6k words of me projecting my insomnia onto James, as is my wont.

characters: james, gordon, henry, edward (donald and douglas brief cameo, STH mentioned) human au. 1.6k words. James is tricked by the lads into having a nap, and other stories. also known as 'i dont know if this counts as 'the clock' but here we go anyway'

full fic under the cut.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

James has his chin in his hand, eyelids flickering, as Gordon comes over to the table, stirring his tea. Henry’s already there, casting an eye over James even as he keeps talking to Edward, who’s also shooting James a glance.

Gordon takes a seat beside Henry, opposite Edward, and sets his mug down just hard enough it makes a clack, and James’ eyes flick open, he starts.

“Ah!” he says, before blinking slowly, recovering. “Hi, Gordon.”

“Good morning, James,” Gordon says, raising an eyebrow at him, before sipping his tea even as he casts his eye over the clock. 5:15pm, on the dot. A bit early for James to be looking so shattered. “Are you quite alright?”

“As can be,” James says, returning to his chin-in-hand position, fumbling for his mug, though he frowns into it as it turns out to be empty. “Ah. I need more coffee.”

“No,” Edward says gently, watching the way James’ hand shakes as he puts his mug down. “I don’t think that’s the solution here.”

“He’s already had three just while we’ve been sitting here,” Henry says conversationally to Gordon, who raises both eyebrows this time and shoots James an incredulous look. “And he won’t tell us what’s wrong.”

“I’ll tell you what’s wrong,” Gordon says, and even James shoots him a look, though it’s very dry. The bags under James’ eyes are dark and prominent. “Insomnia is what’s wrong.”

James opens his mouth to retort, and is quickly overtaken by a yawn instead.

“Case and point.”

“Shud’up,” James mumbles, putting his mug back down and curling his lip. “Look, it’s fine. I have one more train and it’s in an hour. I can stay awake for that.”

Edward hums.

“A whole hour?” he asks. “Surely that’s enough time for a nap.”

“I can nap like the dead,” James says.

“It’s true,” Gordon nods, which makes James flush and shoot him another dry look – though much fonder this time. “But also… I believe Edward may be right.”

“Cor!” Henry says, glancing at Edward, “you should get that in writing.”

Gordon huffs, even as it makes Edward and James laugh.

“But yeah,” Henry quickly follows up, turning back to James. “Honestly, you should. Twenty-minute kip should do you a world of difference. I used to do it all the time, back in the day.”

“I do it now, sometimes,” Edward agrees with a thoughtful nod, even as he sips his tea. “No shame in a recharge.”

James sighs. The tension runs out of him all in a rush, his shoulders slump, and in that moment, he really does look tired.

“That couch,” Henry says, “really is quite comfortable. And you’d even fit on it.”

“Shh,” James says, and he leans forward, lays his head on his arms like he’s blocking out the world. “I don’t wanna. I can’t sleep. An’ I need to focus on staying awake.”

“You say that,” Gordon says, swirling his drink in his mug even as he pointedly doesn’t look at James, instead eyeing up the clock. 5:17. He’ll have to finish his drink soon. “But you look half-asleep now.”

“I’ve been half-asleep all day,” James shoots back, grumbling. “Half-asleep is not all-asleep.”

“James,” Edward says, letting some of the gentleness drop off his tone. “You’re not the only person at this table with trouble sleeping. You know we’re right, and a nap will do you good.”

James lifts his head just enough to glare at Edward, who shakes his head back.

“Henry can carry you onto that couch,” he says, “if you really want. But the Twins are here, and I think you wouldn’t like the word-of-mouth to spread around the Island, would you?”

Gordon looks over to the break table to see Donald and Douglas standing there, tea and biscuit in hand, god knows how long they’ve been there, shooting them all the odd curious look. Donald nods politely at Gordon when they make eye contact before he quickly looks away.

“I hate you,” James says with absolutely no fire at all. “Are you going to let it go?”

“No,” Edward says cheerfully. “I’d just really rather you didn’t do something stupid, like collapse in your cab again.”

Gordon and Henry shoot each other a look.

“…He has a point.” Henry’s voice is tentative.

“I mean, if you’re not well, surely a replacement can be arranged,” Gordon points out, and is surprised when James’ head snaps up.

“No!” he says, before curling in on himself. “I mean- look. I can’t. Not this time. Already in hot enough water with Hatt for the last freight train I skived off.”

Edward sighs, and shoots Gordon a dry look, though he’s careful to make sure James doesn’t see. Gordon has to supress a knowing smile.

“But you’re sick,” Henry says.

“And you know that’s not enough to get off work, sometimes,” James grumbles. “And besides. It’s hardly an illness. This is just self-inflicted.”

“What is this, Pitying James day?” Gordon asks. “James, you should know better than most that no-one chooses to be an insomniac.”

Edward shoots Henry a look, whose lips are pressed into a thin line, lost in thought for a moment, before Henry blinks and shoots Edward a soft smile back.

Then, Henry says. “Look. I have an idea, but it involves you on that couch.”

“Ashes! Fine!” James snaps, rising to his feet. “I’ll get on the bloody couch!”

He’s flushed dark, but stalks across the room, falling onto it with an whmph. …Donald and Douglas decide it’s a good moment to finish their afternoon tea, and leave the breakroom. Wise, really.

“There,” Henry says as he follows James across the room. “Now, it’s a bit nippy isn’t it? Wish they’d actually turn the heaters on this time of year rather than waiting for winter to actually set in. Ah well.”

“What are you doing?” James asks, looking up at him suspiciously, and the scowl on his face makes Gordon snort, and he gets to his feet too, glancing again at the clock. 5:20. He has to take the evening run of the Express shortly.

“Get comfy,” Henry tells him. “Lie down.”

Edward goes over to the drinks table even as James doesn’t stop scowling but does start loosening his tie. Gordon turns as a moment later, Edward touches his elbow, and he presses the glass of water into Gordon’s hand.

“Give this to James,” Edward says softly. “I’ll go ring Hatt to see if there’s something that can be arranged. And if not, I’ll ask the stationmaster to wake James at quarter-to.”

Gordon just nods, and lets Edward slip from the room. He pulls up one of the low coffee tables and sets the glass down on it within James’ arm’s reach even as Henry prompts James to take off his shoes.

James looks up from his laces, though he was complaining about taking them off, and blinks at the offering, before shooting Gordon a surprisingly soft smile.

“Thanks,” he whispers.

Gordon nods, his eyes softer than usual.

It really takes the two of them being the ones nagging James along, for once, but finally James ends up lying on his back on the couch, shoes off, tie off, blazer off, a couple shirt buttons undone, and even his gloves removed. Only then does Henry take his coat off.

It’s a big, green thing, Henry’s coat; all warm, thick wool. Henry pauses only to unpin his gold 3 badge before he drapes the jacket over James.

It swamps James completely. The green makes the pallor that had definitely crept onto his face over the course of the day even more obvious.

“This is ridiculous,” James tries to protest, even as he yawns again, eyes closing with the size of it, and they take an extra moment or two to open again. “I can’t….”

“You can,” Gordon says, rocking on his heels. “Edward is off talking to the stationmaster, arranging an appropriate wake-up time, and she’ll keep an eye on the clock for you. Everything will be fine.”

“Hit the lights, would you, Gordon?” Henry asks, and Gordon nods, crossing the room to do so even as Henry puts his hands on his hips and stares down at James, who blinks up owlishly at Henry, like he’s very futilely trying to prove he’s not even tired.

There are a few sets of curtains, and Henry moves to close them.

“This is the breakroom, not a nursery,” James protests, though he already is sounding sleepy. He yawns again, and Henry shoots Gordon a triumphant look. “I’m… I’ll… just five minutes.”

“You try sleep for five minutes,” Henry agrees, and he starts ushering Gordon towards the door. “You just close your eyes and try, and when it doesn’t work, you can tell me so, alright?”

Gordon snorts, even as James sighs, and mumbles, “alright.”

They both pause in the doorway, watching the second-hand on the breakroom clock in the now-dim light of the breakroom tick five seconds… ten seconds… fifteen… twenty…

James’ snores fill the air.

“Told him so,” Henry whispers, which makes Gordon stifle a laugh. “Let’s leave him to it.”

They see Edward back out on the platform, who slips past them back into the breakroom to leave a note beside James, before he comes to stand with them.

“Hatt agreed,” Edward says. “I thought he would.”

“Probably because you asked,” Gordon shrugs. “What did you promise him?”

Edward goes a little red. “I’d take his train,” he says sheepishly.

“Ed.”

Edward meets Henry’s disapproving look with a dry glance of his own.

“I’m hardly fragile,” he says. “It’s fine. It needed to be done.”

They all glance at the breakroom door, before Gordon looks up at the large station clock, and starts. 5:31.

“Ashes!” he exclaims. “I’m late.”

Henry laughs at him, slaps his shoulder even as Gordon hurries away.

When James wakes up several hours later, he makes sure to give the three of them an absolute earful even as he returns Henry’s coat. Though quietly, he’s thankful, even more so when Gordon finally tells him ever-so-fondly to shut up and go back to bed.

[finniestoncrane]

Wearing In

General!Riddler x Fem!Reader, word count: 750 ok so technically this is sort of unnamed goon x reader, but rest assured eddie is sitting on a little seat watching and orchestrating everything 💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: cuckoldery kinda, free use a little bit, sexual instruction, it's hard to describe this lmao

Your partner was nameless of course. They all were these days. The staff turnover within the ranks of The Riddler's henchmen was far worse than any other gang or faction in Gotham. As far as notorious criminals went, he was by far the worst when it came to any semblance of humanity. His workers were merely tools to be used. No loyalty needed, because under threat of an elaborate death, they tended to do exactly as he told them to do. And his extensive banks of knowledge meant everyone they knew and loved were at risk alongside them, should they disappoint him.

Edward Nygma even found it beneath him to have to call out "you there" to whatever poor minion was closest to him. The notion of learning the names of the ill-fated fools on his roster, then, was a ridiculous one. Why should have have to learn something as useless as that when they didn't even come trained half the time.

Training. The bane of his existence. You expected that was why he wasn't wasting any of his own energy on training you. Not when he could command someone else to do the physical part himself, while he barked orders from a seat across from you. Legs crossed, fingers drumming slowly against his knee.

It really could have been any one of them, any number of goons who happened to be walking by him when he decided it was time to wear you in. This man in particular had just happened to be lucky, or unlucky, depending on how any of the parties involved were objectively looking at the situation they found themselves in. You considered yourself the latter, given that Edward had somehow managed to choose one of his larger men to train you up.

As you hissed in pain, pressing your eyes shut tight and staring to the ground, he hesitated a moment. Pulling his cock out of your stretched and sensitive cunt, you let out a small sigh of relief. This seemed to irritate Edward, as he caught your chin with the rounded edge of his cane. He pushed it up, letting your eyes find him as he returned the intense stare past his domino mask.

"Keep your head up, please. As much as I hate to admit it, any hint of pleasure during this exercise may bruise my ego, so I want to be sure you're not enjoying yourself."

As your eyes began to drive instinctively down, trying to avoid his intense gaze, he tapped your chin, a dull pain appearing and quickly dissipating, but enough to have you focused on him.

"He's here to break you in. To make sure you know what's to be expected from you. The pleasure, I assure you, will come much later. When you're finally good enough, practised enough, for me to bother with you."

Edward nodded towards the goon, who eased the head of his cock between your plump, swollen lips, your body tensing as he filled you up once more. Fingers scratching at the floor you knelt on, mouth opening in a silent scream as Edward pulled his cane back and continued to speak.

"I don't need something shiny and new. Something pretty and untouched. I need tried and tested. Provable. Worthy."

How much longer did you have to last though? You could feel, with the exertion, the embarrassment, the feeling of your partner's thick, large cock hitting your cervix as he made you fit around him. Surely now, you were suitably worn in?

"I need to know that I won't be wasting my time with something that isn't good enough for me. Do you think you're good enough for me yet?"

He didn't let you answer, interrupting whatever word you were about to say.

"Np, you're not. You're barely good enough for him, whatever his name is. So. Stay on your arms and legs and let him stretch you out and warm you up while I watch and make sure you're responding the right way."

Your eyes remained open, even past the intense heat in your stomach, the slight clouding of your vision as you prepared to hold back the climax that was about to wash over you.

"Maybe then, you'll get your reward."

He palmed himself, the tent at the front of his pants visible even from where you were, as you resigned yourself to yet more pounding at his command.

[multifanatics]

Waiting Out a Storm

A/N: I put nearly everyone in this so I could get a taste of their characters. I nearly fell asleep writing this so hopefully its not horrible.

Warnings: Sexual content, General fluffiness, Anxiety due to storms, There could be more that I didn't think of.

Edward Nygma // Riddler

It’s raining and he’s unable to hear himself think against the loud noise of the wind.

He’s annoyed nonetheless, he can’t get work done in these conditions. 

Makes himself hot chocolate and steals all the blankets in the house. 

If you're nice to him he’ll maybe share one blanket but don’t count on it. 

If the power goes out and there’s nothing to do. 

He’s offering you to warm him up. 

He gets cold and hates being cold. 

He’s miserable and makes it your problem more than it is his.

If you seem nervous or scared because of the storm he may be more accommodating to letting you have blankets. MAYBE. 

One way or another definitely leads to sex.

Victor Fries // Freeze

It’s snowing in Gotham? It’s Christmas for Victor. 

The wind and heavy snow he’ll be outside the entire time.

That is of course if you aren’t at all nervous due to the blizzard. 

If you are that’s alright, He’ll stay inside for you. 

Making sure you are warm enough. 

You both are going to sit on the couch and watch your favorite movie. 

Power goes out? May not be what you want but he’s willing to play chess or any other type of board game with you. 

If you ask him, he may be willing to try and keep you warmer. Even if his body temperature is lower then the current storm. 

Keeps you wrapped up in blankets no matter what. 

His body temperature can handle the negatives but yours can’t or at least shouldn’t. 

Harvey Dent // Two Face

Harvey hates storms, while Harv doesn’t mind them. 

Harvey will cuddle you under piles of blankets clinging to you for warmth. 

While Harv will more than likely be found outside if the coin allows him to be. 

Otherwise Harv is indoors and clung to you in a much different way than Harvey. 

Harv typically has his hands on your hips, chin on your shoulder everywhere you go. 

While Harvey is much more a pile of blankets and cuddles.

Human furnace and knows it. 

Harv would be much more open to fucking for warmth, even offers. 

Harvey strikes me as the kind of man who would build a pillow fort during a storm if you’re both anxious or the power is out. 

While Harv would be fine just falling asleep.  

Jonathan Crane // Scarecrow 

One of the first things you told him was your fear of storms. 

And now he gets to watch how you react.

He does not leave your side during the storm for personal reasons that can range from your warmth to your fear.

Horror movies, blankets, and hot chocolate. 

If the power goes out? Horror stories with a flashlight like they do at camps in October. 

Cuddle him and tell him about your fear he was a psychiatrist after all maybe he can help… or make it much worse by accident, possibly. 

I’m in the middle of him waiting for you to offer sex or he doesn’t enjoy it during a storm. 

I see him as a “No power, no problem.” kind of guy and somehow getting everything he needed done. 

He gets cold and sort of carries around a blanket like a cape. Over his shoulders and occasionally encasing him if he stands still. 

Paranoia is his specialty, don't try to hide it from him, he’ll find out anyway. 

Jervis Tetch // Mad Hatter

Tea party in the dark even if the power is working.

Definitely at least a little bit anxious himself. 

Is against any kind of “more heat” ideas you can think of. 

He has a routine, hiding in blankets and drinking tea in the dark and silence.

Though since you’re there maybe it doesn’t have to be silent. 

Sharing blankets is a must with him, maybe not all cuddly but definitely share your blankets. 

Can be clinging if he’s extra anxious. 

He keeps the power off even if it’s working. He can’t hypnotize the lights to stay on so he rather not have the surprise. 

Super sweet if you are anxious as well. 

Recites his favorite poetry, books, or lines from a movie.  

Joker 

His current hideout has a backup generator so don’t worry about the lights going out

What? If there’s no lights how is he supposed to know if people actually enjoy his jokes? 

He’s nowhere to be seen except you know he’s in the same place as you. 

He takes this time to get more work done. 

If you need him for warmth you can sit on his lap while he works. 

If he doesn’t have anything to get done? He’ll drive you mad with a bunch of different jokes. 

He doesn’t cuddle and he won’t screw around during a storm. 

Gives you blankets then sits next to you.

He doesn’t get cold, maybe a little bit but it’s not something he can’t handle.

If you’re anxious he can always offer a kiss and some jokes. 

Oswald Cobblepot // Penguin

It’s storming? Since when? 

He has to look outside to know it’s storming. 

He’s not at all phased by any type of storm unless he’s caught wind of someone plotting against him. 

You need to voice to him you’re nervous and want him to stay around otherwise he’ll be off working. 

If you voice to him you are anxious he’ll offer to watch a movie or something. 

He’s burying you in the warmest blankets if you say you’re cold and you have goosebumps. 

He’s actually very understanding and not very bothered by you at all. 

It was about time he took a break anyway. 

He has backup generators for backup generators he has power in all ways that matter. 

If you want to screw around he’ll cockwarm but he’s only going to mess around if the mood takes him.  

Harleen Quinzel // Harley Quinn 

She complains. 

She hates the cold but surprisingly doesn't mind storms. 

Harley will cuddle or at least fall asleep on your chest or shoulder.

Will steal your blankets. 

Clingy in a non clingy way. She’ll go up to you and stare at you until you get a clue, if you don’t then she minds her own business. 

Definitely down for messing around, much more teasing. 

She will do whatever the hell you want too.

She’ll talk about the days before she became Harley Quinn, and how much colder the cells are at Arkham. 

If you manage to snuggle up to her she’ll share her blankets. 

She clears all anxiety with her degree. 

Pamley Isley // Poison Ivy

Claims its nature letting go.

LOVES storms and doesn’t mind the cold. 

Checks on her plants during the storm. 

Disregards you unless you pay attention to her.

Say you're cold and she will make the best herbal tea. 

She’s calming your anxiety with talk of which plants grow better in the cold and why they need the cold. 

She understands nature and wants nothing more than to ensure everything she likes is alright. 

She shares her blankets with you. 

Would watch whatever. 

You fall asleep and she’ll leave you a few blankets and go outside to enjoy the storm.

[recreationalfanfics]

*chin hands* assassin's creed on the mind eh? Do tell 👀

OKAY SO ONE IDEA I DEF WANNA USE IN THE FUTURE WOULD BE YANDERE EAGLE VISION. Like, if an assassin/eagle vision user becomes obsessed with a darling, then instead of showing up as red (for enemy) or green (for ally), then their darling would show up as either a pink silhouette or something.

NOT ONLY THAT, BUT, LIKE DIFFERENT ASSASSIN'S TRYING TO FIGURE OUT WHAT IT MEANS/ALREADY KNOWING WHAT IT MEANS.

Like Ezio using eagle vision and he sees his darling is a different color from everyone else, he instantly believes its a sign their soul mates and will shamelessly follow them, either from the shadows or blatantly walking after them like a lost puppy.

Altaïr believing something is wrong when his eagle vision acts up and only towards you, the person who served no real importance but never seemed to leave his mind. He decides to use it as an excuse to stalk you, after all, it was fine before YOU came along and he's just trying to figure out if it means if you're a threat or not. Deep down, he knows what it actually means but it gives him a good excuse to stalk you.

Connor absolutely is baffled when he notices a pink figure and when he switches back to his normal vision, he sees its you. He doesn't voice this out to anyone because its not that important, right? Plus, he truly wouldn't want to disturb you with that knowledge and, when you really think about it, it's rather helpful for the both of you! Now Connor can keep tabs on you and you won't ever have to worry about anything hurting you because Connor will always be waiting in the shadows to protect you.

Evie would be a Lucid yandere, the moment you become miscolored in a way she's never heard of, she's doing some research on her own time and found out about rare instances assassin's who found their "soul mates" with their eagle vision. Like Connor and Altaïr, she would definetly use it as an excuse to be able to stalk you while keeping her conscious clear. It's not her fault technically and yes, maybe she is tailing behind you and her heart soars at the thought of being able to pick you out of the crowd and track you down so easily...but it's only because she can keep you safe!

Jacob doesn't even question it, he also takes it as confirmation that you were meant to be his. He would absolutely take advantage of his new ability and you'd be none the wiser. You try to avoid him by going a different route? He somehow ends up calling your name and happily running over to you and you're wondering how could he have known. You're bumping into him a lot more often when doing mundane things? Haha, what a coincidence! May as well hang on his arm and let him treat you to a nice drink! Just the image of Jacob desperately jumping from rooftop to rooftop using eagle vision only to stop and smile to himself when he sees your silhouette makes me so happy-

EDWARD DOESN'T REALLY QUESTION IT, HE'S JUST GLAD HE CAN HAVE PIECE OF MIND WHEN IT COMES TO YOU TBH. He knows what he's doing is shady but at the same time, he can't help it. But also moments when you manage to sneak away from him and he just easily walks towards were you're hiding and it fills you with so much dread and panic and you're not sure how he manages to do that every single time.

AAAH, IMAGINE ARNO BEING ALL SMUG ABOUT IT. Like, you're both at a gala somewhere and you try to lose him in the crowd, not wanting to deal with his possessive behavior but no matter how many people are in the way, Arno uses his eagle vision and pushes and shoves past people as he makes his way towards you. Just when you think you lost him, you feel his hand wrap around your wrist and pull you close and his hood is over his head, revealing nothing more than a sly grin.

[tinytalkingtina]

WIP Word Game

Rules: You will be given a word. Share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that start with each letter of that word.

Thank you @little-annie, @vthx, @hbyrde36 and @adverbally for tagging me. Really got me to start working on my Star Trek AU again! Vulcan Steve lives to see another day

L "Look, do you want to do this or not?” Sharon asked. Shit, she sounded fed up. Eddie shook his head violently. “No no no, I do, you’re really hot. It’s just—the clasp,” he managed to mumble into the semi darkness of the bedroom. (Running with the Devil role reversal fic #2) I "I would prefer if you refrained from doing that,” S’tevan said quietly into the room, not quite meeting Eddie’s eyes. (Logical Imperfection) C Carol rolled her eyes as she popped her gum. “What is it with you two today? It’s like someone shoved a stick up both your asses!” (Running with the Devil role reversal fic #2) K "Keep that attitude of yours in check next time, or else I might take my services somewhere else.” (Running with the Devil role reversal fic #1)

S Stupid trailer in this stupid town. Why’d they have to move here in the first place? He liked Kentucky, never felt so dumb and wrong in Kentucky. Dad hadn’t turned mean ’til they moved, and now he was—. (Running with the Devil role reversal fic #2) I If only that had been the last time he dreamed of Steve Harrington.(Running with the Devil role reversal fic #1) D "Don’t move around so much.” Eddie grabbed Steve’s chin to steady him. Steve mercifully fell still. “That’s it, thank you. Doing so good for me there, Big Boy.” (Running with the Devil role reversal fic #2) E "Edward,” Mrs. Click interrupted, fond exasperation on her face. “I’m glad you’re so invested in keeping up school spirit, but for now let’s focus on the Revolutionary War.” Eddie laid the bashfulness on thick as he apologized. (Running with the Devil role reversal fic #2)

F For whatever reason, S’tevan’s ears were tinged the slightest bit greener than normal. Eddie was completely lost. “You, you brought me a mug?” S’tevan nodded his head. “Yes. I received this as a trinket from my time aboard the Klingon vessel exploring the Inverted Place, however, I do not drink raktijino. You have shown an affinity for displaying them in your quarters, therefore it is logical that you may have greater use for it than I.” (Logical Imperfection) I "I once again question why we are putting our lives in the hands of a hatchling.” Birdie was grumpy, had been since she transformed back.(Soaring Symphony) R Really he should have seen this coming sooner, but then again, he had been mated for only one day. It would be really lovely if the powers-that-be could cut him some slack. (Soaring Symphony) E Eddie hugged his knees closer to his chest. Maybe if he squeezed hard enough, he would be able to feel his Mama’s arms wrapped around him. (Running with the Devil role reversal fic #2)

F Flying was, well, exhilarating. Through their bond, Big Boy’s absolute joy thrummed high and sweet, the note echoing in the back of his mind. (Soaring Symphony) R "Reasoning did not factor into my decisions. It was a serious imperfection in my logic.” (Logical Imperfection) U Underneath the mask, he could be anyone. The feeling was both freeing and a little terrifying. (Running with the Devil role reversal fic #2) I It’s not like Eddie hadn’t spent time with enthusiastic partners. But he had never seen such naked adoration in anyone’s eyes before. (Logical Imperfection) T Tommy’s not wrong, it fits him perfectly. Hides the way his t-shirt’s a little too worn. Fills out his shoulders too. Thank goodness, because no matter how many pushups he does before school, they remain stubbornly bony. (Running with the Devil role reversal fic #2)

Should you accept this mission to play too, your word is PINE. Go and share those WIPS :D No pressure tagging @augustjustice @hairstevington @griefabyss69

@pearynice @penny00dreadful @ataliagold (If anyone sees this and wishes they were tagged too just PM me and I'll tag you!)

[snowflakeanimelover]

Helloo, I'm really excited to req to you again! (until now I didn't have any req ideas..). May I req HCs of “Man. I was hoping you'd fall asleep in my arms.”, GN reader with Hirako (Bleach), Yato (Noragami), Edward (Fullmetal Alchemist) please? So maybe the movies could be the boring/not interested one he chose/picked but reader become invested in watching it that they ignore him?

Ahh im glad you like my writing :) Sorry this came out late!

Prompt HCs(Shinji Hirako/Yato/Edward Elric)

Prompt: “Man. I was hoping you’d fall asleep in my arms.”

Shinji Hirako

He really didn’t expect you to be so invested in such a dull movie. He picked it on purpose, expecting you to be bored out of your mind and fall asleep in his arms.

A coward he may be, but clever nonetheless. If he was too shy to tell you how he felt, then why not figure out a way to get you to fall for him?

But, when the fall doesn’t happen, he turns to find you very concentrated in the movie.

That's when he had no choice but to push.

“Man. I was hoping you’d fall asleep in my arms.” He tried to sound bored, glancing here and there at you. 

He thought he didn’t get a reaction from you, but after a few long minutes, you’re looking right at him with wide eyes. He returned the look, concerned if what he said was something he shouldn’t have said. He wasn’t expecting such a face from you.

“What?” He asks you.

“W-well…um…I just wasn’t expecting that from you,” you mumble, “w-were you trying to get me to do that?”

Shinji looked away in embarrassment, scratching his chin nervously. “I mean…it was an attempt. Did it work?”

Your face was red, making him smirk in slight victory. “Uh…it does sound appealing.” 

He opens his arms for you to rest on his chest. He couldn't be anymore happier, knowing that he managed to get you in his arms.

Yato

It was selfish, he knows, but he couldn’t keep it to himself any longer. As much as he cares for you, he just never found the time to admit how much he loves you to your face. So, he figured this just might do the trick. 

To his surprise, though, he finds you so invested in the movie that was supposed to be boring for you. 

He knows you to be the type to fall asleep if you were to get bored, so he for sure knew this would work. Apparently, he didn’t know you as well as he thought.

“Man…I was hoping you’d fall asleep in my arms.” He mumbled to himself. But he didn’t realize he said it aloud to where you could hear. He watched your eyes slightly widen as you watched the TV, slowly turning your head to him.

“H-huh?” You gasp lightly.

He already dug himself, might as well continue. “I mean…that’s uh…if you wanted to…?” Smooth, Yato. Real smooth.

You smiled and chuckled at his weird behavior. But you nodded and instinctively yawned. “Sure.” 

He couldn’t feel anymore happier in his life. He couldn’t believe it actually worked, and he forsees his future to use this tactic whenever there was a good opportunity.

Edward Elric

Television was always something boring in daily life. To Edward, at least. He’d rather go around and chase bad people or train than sit and watch something. But such an opportunity couldn’t be missed. 

As often as his little brother nags him for never telling you his feelings, he feels pretty proud of himself at this moment. That is, until you didn’t fall asleep like he was hoping. 

I couldn’t stop staring at you as you watched the television so intently. How could you like news on crime going around town on a night like this? He simply couldn’t understand you, but that's why he loves you. 

Soon enough, you caught him staring at you. “What? Is there something on my face?”

He quickly cleared his throat, finally taking his eyes off of you. “Well….to be honest…I was hoping you'd fall asleep in my arms.”

“What?” You deadpan. This was not like the Edward you knew. If anything, he’d have training on his mind instead of someone he cares about. “What’s gotten into you?”

Now, he had to think of something. Of course, he didn’t have the guts to tell you his feelings at this moment, so instead, he thought of something else. “I just…I have a lot on my mind and need comfort.” He declares, head held high as if he is proud of something.

You raised your eyebrow. You weren't sure whether to believe him, but it isn’t really too far from the truth. As much as he’s gone through, it’s not surprising that he would need comfort here and there. With a sigh, you let yourself fall onto his shoulder. “Better?” You ask him as you slowly grow more comfortable leaning on him.

He nods slowly, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “Y-Yeah…”

[deskgoblin]

Choso x Detective! Reader (Pt. 1)

You and Choso have been sponsored by the British royal family to protect King Edward VII from a serial killer who uses biological warfare to experiment and head for the royal family.

The year was 1840 and King Edward VII had just been crowned as king of Britain. In the height of his ruling, a plague called the White Death spread across the country infecting the lower class population and made its way up to the politicians of the country. You were put to oversee the primary breakout in Oxford before it made a break for the west to the King’s castle. However, unbeknownst to you because of your lack of evidence and success you heard through the grapevine a foreign detective was being shipped to the country. Until then, you spent day and night trying to piece together what made the breakout so targeted and random

Everyone called you crazy, that the plague was a natural occurrence and the “filthy” poor can’t help but spread it like rabbits breeding thousands of insolent children. But no, you brought in evidence of a break in of several accounts of initial breakouts, testimonies from witnesses that all detail of a tall figure being suspicious. It took everything to convince the chief, and you prevailed under the royal court sponsoring your ambitious ideas. In turn, you arrived at Christ Church College. A majority of the construct consisted of a cathedral and your heels clicked quietly in the rafters, the echos meeting with several shuffling feet to move past. They all gathered around the main desk area where a man seemed to have coughed himself to death. Blood spattered all along the floor and the chair scooted scratches on the floor as it may have seemed he had a massive coughing fit. You approached the corpse with a mask and gloves, sketching the scene and making minor notes on your journal before tilting the head of the student back. Several people surrounding the area groaned and gasped softly at the boldness and lack of fear you had toward the infected body. What more could be done? Tied back hair and being careful with the specimen was the extent of protecting yourself in this day and age. You noticed a tear on the corners of his mouth and carefully opened his mouth, a spurt of blood nailing your face upon opening it. You closed your eyes quickly and a student quickly handed a napkin over. “Thank you.” You muttered as you wiped the mess away. Bloody hell, thank god it didn’t get in your eye or mouth. You thought to yourself how graced you’ve been by god and continued your examination. The sun could only show a bit of the inside of his mouth, and just as you expected, the throat lining had been scathed and stretched as if someone shoved a foreign object down it. You clicked your tongue and reached down the corpse’s throat, finding a soaked square of fabric doused in blood. It had stuck to his throat because of how sticky the dark brown fluid was but it was apparent it was a foreign substance shoved in against the poor man’s will. More proof.

You washed yourself and changed into new clothes, getting ready to go down to the boat dock to meet your partner. As you waited with your hat tied down to your chin, it pulled on you against the wind and irritated the minimal patience you had waiting. It was more than frustrating to wait in this harsh wind, but it was more annoying that you’d have to cooperate with the man who has caught up to your level so quickly. There was only going to be one Lead Detective that serves for the King and that needed to be you. Being a female detective was the biggest struggle especially with how bigoted most people were in answering questions and taking your deductions seriously. This new partner would steal everything you had worked for and would most likely precede you simply by being a man. It was more than you could take.

The boat’s sails waved in the wind as it came close to the dock, sailors jumping off to tie it down to the posts and settle properly. They set out a wooden plank and the passengers began to descend. Everyone that disembarked was seemingly boring, but he popped like a Claude Monet painting in the midst of the colorless scenes of everyone’s art. How odd was it how he had charcoal around his eyes, and the marking across his nose. He didn’t even try to hide how different he was and seemed to take it by its sail and ride it harder than the boat he stepped off of. He looked around, a dark brown leather satchel on his side which made his pearlescent skin on his hands pop especially with the dark colored paint on his fingernails. Maybe he wouldn’t get as much respect and rapport as you did given how he looked. Chief did say he was strange, but you wouldn't guess it was to the degree of ridiculousness. Though he was peculiar looking, you dared to be somewhat attracted to the way his dark hair fell on his shoulders and his long lashes looked at everyone with disdain and boredom. Oh to be the color in which he catches his eye on.

He brushed past you in the thick crowd of people rushing by for the sailors and the family members who’ve traveled long and far. It took you by surprise that he didn’t recognize you or even apologize, but he did seem flustered by the rush of people erupting from the ship and the harbor. You chased after him, reaching your hand out to his forearm and softly pulling him back. He turned to you quickly, alarmed about someone grabbing him. “Yes?” His voice was deep and his eyes stared down at you with half lidded eyes. “You’re Detective Choso. I’m Detective L/N.” You held out your hand to him to greet properly. He looked at you confused, his lips tinging up as if to smile awkwardly. “You’re a woman.” “You’re an amazing detective.” “No— I mean that no one told me. I would’ve been more polite and found you myself.” He shook your hand softly, his palms warm and his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. You glared and pulled your hand away, immediately recognizing his way of manipulating you into being delicate. He’d use this way to keep you at a space where you’d always just be the woman, the side piece and the supporting character. You’d be cordial, but dominate him in the field. “I did some interviews in the area for Christ Church College. There was a new body, same MO.” “You haven’t figured it out yet?” He cocked his head to the side and you glared at him. “It’s hard when your suspects are not local. He travels after each kill and he leaves clues. I’m just too late each time. Blame the horrid transportation system we have.” “I will. Have you considered a horse?” You shook your head in disbelief. “A what?” “I’m hungry and can’t stand the idea of seafood. I’m going to find somewhere to eat.” Without much of a remark after his conclusion, he turned on his heels to persist a meal.

[chapel-of-rizztual]

i'm sorry that i'm probably late but if you still want to write those soft prompts-

may ask for terzomega with ❛ i’m not afraid of you. ❜ or ❛ your heart is beating so fast right now. ❜ ? i'm seeing a certain resurgence on ghumblr with those two 🤭 hope the trip went fine!

“I’m not afraid of you.” 

Omegas head whips around to face the smaller man, with a scoff. 

“You should be.” 

Terzo rolls his eyes. 

“Why exactly? Because you are ‘a big bad demon from the pits of hell.’” 

Omega glares at him. 

“You are mocking me now.” 

“Yes I am, because you’re being ridiculous.” 

Omega steps forward, taking Terzos face in his hands. 

“I don’t think I’m being ridiculous. I don’t think this-“ He traces a scar on Terzos chin. “Is ridiculous.” 

Terzo takes Omegas hands in his. 

“So I have a little scar. It’s not big deal.” 

Omega shakes his head. 

“But it’s not the only one you have. And it’s not the only one have because of me.” 

“And it is probably not the last one I will get. Amore mio, you have claws and fangs and a tail that could be used as a whip, accident’s will happen. It is okay.” 

Omega looks around nervously. 

“What of next time it’s not a accident? What if I lose control and can’t control myself?” 

“Okay, Edward Cullen, calm down with the hypothetical situations.” 

“You are still mocking me!” 

“Because you are still being ridiculous!” 

Omega has to fight the urge to smile down at the smaller man. He should have known this was a fight he wasn’t going to win. 

Terzo takes Omegas face in his hands. 

“You forget that I know you. That I have loved you almost half my life now. I am not afraid of you, because I have no reason to be afraid of you.” He smiles up sweetly at Omega. “You are no more dangerous then a domesticated house cat.” 

Omega gasps at him. 

“You cannot compare me to a cat! That is so insulting!” 

Terzo laughs loudly. 

“Why not? I’ve seen you chase a laser pointer around for hours. And you purr as well.” 

Omega brings his arms around Terzo waist, pulling him into him embrace. 

“I only ever purr for you.” 

“And i am honoured to be the one that hears it.” Terzo rests his head on Omegas chest. “Your heart is beating so fast right now.” 

Omega hums.

“Because I love you and I am afraid to lose you.”

“That is really cute, did you get that off tumblr in 2012?” 

Omega laughs.

“I can’t believe you are still mocking me.” 

“I can’t believe you are still being ridiculous.” 

They smile at each other for a second before Omega ducks down to place a kiss on Terzos lips. It only last a second before Omega picks Terzo up, making him squeal, throwing him over his shoulder, landing a slap to his ass. 

“Let’s see if I can make you purr for me this time.” 

[batmanrogues-scenarios]

Omg omg congratulations Pati on 500 followers 💕🥳 that's such a huge achievement I'm so happy for you!

It was super hard to choose which prompt to do, they're all so sweet and perfect for summer!

I think I'll definitely have to ask for my wee husbando BTAS ariddler with the fic ask prompt: putting sunscreen on crush! I'm a sucker for innocent physical contact flustering one or both parties lol

Congrats again Pati! I hope you have fun!

Sorry for taking so long! I love this prompt and I'm glad I can do one of my favorite Riddler with it.

Gamer in Love

Ed didn't like going to beaches. With his red hair it was easy for his skin to be red too while out in sun, it was hard to see his gameboy while it was so bright and he had to listen to all of these people around. Then why was he on the beach? The reason was next to him.

Y/N just lay there like there was no care in the word. Just letting sun caresses they're skin while it made Edward face red. There was no other reason for it.

"Hmmm? Hey Ed do you need sunscreen?" Y/N looked at him from under their glasses.

"Uh! OH no, no I'm fine." He looked away.

"Well a sunscreen wouldn't hurt. I got one with me." They pulled a tube out of their back. "Show me your face."

Y/N put sunscreen on their fingers and moved Edward by his chin to lay layer on his face.

"H-hey! Thank you fir consideration but I'm an adult. I can do it myself."

He grabbed his own sunscreen and started implying it as Y/N did the same. He sometimes glanced at them but averted his eyes out of respect. He put a bottle down but Y/N asked.

"Do you want me to get it on your back?"

"On my back? O-h, are you sure?"

"Yeah. I do yours, you do mine."

"Deal." He said without thinking it through.

They got next to him and started moving their hands in circles, giving him sunscreen treatment. He closed his eyes as he enjoyed the feeling of the motion. They're hands were so nice...

"Alright there."

At this he opened his eyes realizing it's over.

"Thank you? Now may I?"

Y/N lay on their stomach, showing off their back. Ed took breath and put lotion of their skin as they sighed. "Cold."

"You used it on yourself already." Ed pointed out letting out a chuckle.

"I first put it on my hand. There's a difference."

"Hmm... I guess you have a point. I'll try making it more enjoyable then."

He started moving his hands. It was more of massage than just rubbing it in. Y/N didn't complained though. They lay there, soon closing their eyes as the motion make them relax. Ed meanwhile, just looked at their face as he kept going. It went for like 10 mixtures he realized it might went for too long.

"Oh, sorry. Got lost." He pulled his hands away.

"Mm..." Y/N didn't complained as they lay there asleep.

Edward let out a chuckle as he watched them. How could he not fall for them?