#guy trying to reclaim the casual dating of the teenage years yeah

[queer-lovebot]

Hey, you have any more heartthrob kevin and jealous andreil hcs left? For some reason I can't stop thinking about them 🦝

I am an Endless well of information. I’m always thinking of pretty boy heart throb Kevin and his sword (Neil) and shield (Andrew). It’s what gets me through the day.

I am a big fan of Kevin is intentional about his beauty. He’s extremely vain. He wants to look pretty, to straddle the ledge of delicate and powerful. And it’s just a HIM thing. For his own enjoyment. Mani-pedis, a little bit of eye liner, the works. Bc of this he can, unfortunately, be rather flattered if you come to him like a normal human and don’t open the conversation with “God you are so fucking pretentious. You free tonight?”

All this to say Kevin has been on a handful of dates with students and Exy players who were polite and kind and accepted his assholishness as part of the equation. I’m sure you can imagine how the Foxes acted each time a date came around. I’m sure you can imagine how the Monsters dorm was when it was date night.

The fun part about everything was that the dates were super lowkey to Kevin and just like. Fun things he did to either take his mind off things or to expand his horizons (as advised by his therapist). And he comes home like “It was fine” and everyone thinks he’s being coy but he’s genuinely just okay about it. Nothing mind blowing. Maybe like. A polite kiss to the cheek or the hand. He just liked being fawned over in a way that’s normal sometimes. And the few people he Does get along with (some Exy player with the same or similar major/viewpoints) become chill acquaintances. This doesn’t stop Andrew or Neil from scratching at the walls and in fact makes it worse, but they’re so good (bad) at hiding it that it’s okay.

[littleplebe]

I wish you'd write something with the phrase "I'd do anything for you. You want the moon? I'll give you the moon." -Starcy. Please and thank you.

This ficlet is so basic, it makes me cringe. But I also really like it. If after reading it, you ask yourself why I like it, know that I’m not as clever as I pretend to be. Also, I’m sleep deprived.

————

Darcy found Steve having breakfast in the kitchen, his nose buried in a newspaper. She rolled her eyes at the sight. He was wearing those blasted spectacles again. The ones she hated so much. They aged him five years and made him look like frikking Dumbledore whenever he peered at her over the stupid gold rim.

“I told you not to wear these,” she griped, snatching the glasses from his face before he could stop her.

“Hey,” he cried, setting the paper down and reaching for Darcy. “Give them back. They’re my reading glasses.”

Darcy danced out of his reach and tucked the glasses in the cleavage of her blouse. “You don’t need glasses, Steve,” she told him for the hundredth time that month. “You have 20/20 vision!”

“I’m getting old.”

“You’re a super soldier!” Darcy exclaimed, exasperated. “You haven’t aged in ten years!” Steve opened his mouth to argue but she pointed a finger at him. “And don’t say you’re going through midlife crisis. You’re barely 40.”

“I’m 39,” Steve sniffed mulishly. “It’s almost like being 40.”

Darcy sighed. It was like banging her head against a brick wall. When she had met Steve a decade ago, his persistence over certain ideas and his stubborn righteousness were what had attracted her to him. She had wanted to be his friend and had hounded him about it for weeks until he had relented and invited her over for dinner with him and his girlfriend Sharon Carter.

“Hi, I’m up for the position of Steve’s best friend,” Darcy had cheerfully introduced herself to Sharon, who had raised a single unimpressed brow andreplied, “Good luck with that.”

Darcy hadn’t really known Steve back then, so she hadn’t understood what Sharon had meant.

Now she thought she was beginning to understand why they broke up. Who would want to be with a stuffy old grandpa who wore reading glasses despite having perfect vision?

While she was lamenting about how childish and infuriating her best friend could sometimes be, Steve leaned forward and swiftly reclaimed his old-man-spectacles, miraculously without brushing against her breasts. He set them daintily on the little bump on his nose and looked at her over the rim, a small smile ticking up the corners of his mouth.

Darcy glared at him. Damn him, he still looked just as hot!

She opened her mouth to reprimand him, but then decided to seduce him into doing her bidding instead. “So, I was thinking,” she began casually, “we’re buds, right?”

Steve looked cautious, as if he knew what was coming wouldn’t be particularly…inspired.

“Yes?” he agreed, phrasing it more like a question.

“And we’ve known each other for ten years,” Darcy continued, smiling widely.

“Uh-huh.”

“So, I was thinking… since we’re so good together, we should, you know… get together.” She was pretty proud of herself for saying that and then winking at him suggestively.

But Steve was not impressed. “Are you flirting with me?”

“Maybe,” she hedged, “why?”

“Don’t. You suck.” What a gentleman.

“Shut up! Do you want to be my boyfriend or not?”

“Not,” Steve replied without missing a beat, going back to his newspaper.

“Why not?” Darcy complained, a scowl beginning to furrow her brows. “It’ll be fun. You’re hot, I’m hot, it’s like we’re meant to be together.”

“Wow,” deadpanned Steve, calmly turning a page. “That’s a great reason to date. You’ve convinced me.”

Darcy huffed and went to stand beside him, slapping a hand on the article he was reading and forcing him to look at her. “Why not?” she repeated.

Steve shrugged. “You’re too bossy.”

“Well, you’re annoying!” she fired back immediately, making him grin.

“And yet,” he teased. “You’re warm for my form.”

Darcy wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Who taught you to say that?”

Steve smirked and tapped his nose, letting out a low ‘hey!’ when Darcy grabbed his shoulders and turned him to face her. His hands automatically fell to her waist and he narrowed his eyes.

“Say I consider this… what’s in it for me?”

In that moment, the incredulous look on Darcy’s face could have honestly rivaled Captain America’s trade mark disappointed-in-you expression. “You’d get to make out with an insanely hot woman every single day,” she snapped. “Is that not enough of an incentive?”

“Who?” Steve sassed, earning himself a smack on the arm. “Oh, we’re talking about you. Right.”

“You’re such an ass.”

“And you have toothpaste on your cheek.”

Quickly swiping a hand over her face, Darcy continued, undeterred, “How about if I go with you to those stupid celebrity parties and galas you get invited to on a regular basis?”

Steve raised a brow. “You’d do that?”

Darcy nodded.

“But you hate those parties.”

“I’d do anything for you, my love,” she quipped with just the right amount of cheese. “You want the moon? I’ll get you the frikking moon!”

Steve laughed and tugged her closer, deliberately sliding his hands down her hips, as he said, “Okay, I’m in. What are the rules?”

“You have to take care of me when I’m sick.”

“I already do care for you when you’re sick.”

“And you have to promise me hot sex every day.”

He pretended to think about it. “What about when I’m away fighting bad guys?”

“Then,” Darcy whispered throatily, “you’ll have to return at night to sex me up before going back to said bad guys.” She curled her arms around his neck and leaned unabashedly against his broad chest, tempting him with an impish smile as her lips ghosted over his. “Do we have a deal?”

“Hell, yeah!” Steve breathed, pulling her in a steamy kiss.

Darcy sighed happily, slanting her mouth over his and trying not to melt onto the kitchen floor from his touch and the delicious heat that was swirling low in her belly. She successfully plucked his old-man-spectacles from his nose while he was busy sucking her tongue and tossed them over her shoulder, uncaring if they broke.

Just as she was wondering if they could get away with a quickie in a very public area, a loud “Ewww” echoed through the kitchen, forcing the couple apart.

Two girls stood in the doorway, one teenager and other no older than six. They were clad in their sleep clothes and wore identical frowns on their faces, directed straight at the two adults wrapped around each other.

“Why do we have to see this so early in the morning?” Cassie Lang groaned, rubbing her eyes as if to get the image of Steve and Darcy kissing out of her head.

The little girl standing beside her simply threw them an unimpressed look,appearing for all the world like she was unaffected by the sight before her.

Steve looked a mixture of amused and guilty, but Darcy didn’t let go of him even for the sake of the newly arrived, probably very scarred, children. “Step aside, girls,” she announced dramatically, “Darcy Lewis has scored a hot new boyfriend today and she will now proceed to lock him in her room and ravish him until further notice.”

Then she pulled a sputtering Steve from his seat and practically dragged him out of the door, Cassie having to jump aside to avoid smashing shoulders with them. Steve managed to throw both girls a token look of apology before disappearing around the corner, but Cassie sighed and shook her head, torn between  disbelief and fondness for those two idiots she’d known for so long.

She looked down at the six-year-old blonde in pigtails and mumbled, “Your parents are so weird.”

“Tell me about it,” Sophie Rogers said, hiding a smile as she skipped into the kitchen, carefully sidestepping the broken glass on the floor. “Clean that up, please. And make me breakfast.”

Cassie huffed. “This is the last time I babysit you.”

So, I know my prompts have piled up. A couple of them are from as far back as two years! But I’m slowly going through them one by one, taking one at a time and finishing it. Next up, @bloomsoftly’s “It was one small note that started it all.” More than half of it is written. I’m hoping to finish it and post by the end of February.

Tell me what you wish me to write. I just might write it.

[itsclydebitches]

AO3: x, Prompts: Breaking Away, Challenged, Shadows, Faith, Pretense, Troubling Thoughts, Future, Reflection, Running Away, Complicated, Exhaustion, and Breakfast (most below the cut). 

“Oh c’mon!” Tulip howled, torn between kicking Cass from the backseat and clamping her hands over her ears. “You’ve played almost nothing but Clarkson for the last hour. Who the fuck put you in charge of the music anyway?”

“That coin,” Jesse muttered, glaring daggers down where it had rolled into the footwell.

Cass just cranked the volume higher, pretending not to hear them. “Take a chance, make a change, and break awaaaaaay!”

Tulip grabbed hold of Jesse’s ear and twisted. “We’re ditching him at the next gas station.”

“You don’t have to tell me!”

***

“You certainly make the strangest of friends,” DeBlanc murmured. He carefully slipped the jacket from Jesse’s shoulders and folded it over his arm. His shirt and two rings followed.

“They ain’t exactly ‘friends’...”

Definitely not based on how the beefy guy was eyeing Jesse, just itching to break him in half. Which he could do, easily, if Jesse made the mistake of letting him get his paws on him. Lucky for him though, smaller meant faster.

“I’m taking him out quick,” Jesse whispered, right from the corner of his mouth. “When I do the rest of these bastards are gonna come and they’ll come hard. During the fight to ease back towards the far corner. When things get hairy make a break for the backdoor.”

DeBlanc’s eyes had gone wide, then they narrowed. “I can help you, preacher. I—”

Jesse turned, just enough to bump his shoulder against DeBlanc’s. It was, he realized, a gesture of companionship.

He was the friend.

“Cass and Tulip ain’t gonna make it in time, and one of us has got to get Fiore.”

DeBlanc hesitated at that. “But—”

“I’ll be fine.” Jesse smiled and with a last, reassuring look he walked out to face his opponent.

And yes, against all odds he was.

***

Nighttime was Cass’ territory. No fucking duh. You’d think his dumbass friends would remember that after all these years.

“The fuck does that have to do with Twister?” Tulip hissed. She had her legs awkwardly wound around Jesse, her arm beneath Cass’ elbow, and her ass pressed up into his face.

Not a bad place to be, in all honesty.

“Because,” he said, straining to spin the wheel. Ha. Green. “You guys know how much goddamn skill it takes to avoid the sun each day? I’m a twisting master.”

“Cheat—” Jesse bit out right before he collapsed on them both.

***

Ah. Their obvious choice. The glue that bound them all together, beyond pasts, perceived futures and—hell—even species. Faith was the one constant in all their lives and it never wavered. Which, they supposed, was exactly what faith was meant to do.

Problem was, none of them had it in God anymore.

Jesse, tearing off his collar and burning it with his lighter, grounding the ashes beneath the heel of a well-worn boot. Tulip, literally turning her back on the town that had claimed her, raising middle fingers high to the sky. For the first time in decades Cassidy taught himself restraint in his feedings, reclaiming the humanity that was stolen from him on the bank of a river. Fiore carved his love for DeBlanc out of rebellion and DeBlanc rebelled solely for his love. None of them needed the likes of God anymore.

They’d already found faith in each other.

***

They’d known each other a week and all Cass could focus on was how damn nice Jesse was. Jesse fucking Custer, who gave him clothes and meals and beer out of his fridge. Who practically shoved him into the (comparatively) five-star accommodations of the church attic and gave him his conversation every day—every day—like it wasn’t something rare and precious. Jesse had been a generous constant for seven days now and Cass was poised for the other shoe to drop.

“Don’t know what you’re so tense about,” Jesse said casually, ignoring the way Cass’ shoulders shot up around his ears. “But whatever it is, you can chill the hell out, okay?”

He couldn’t. Men like Jesse just didn’t exist.

Still.

“…right then,” Cass muttered, accepting one more beer.

Maybe he could pretend. If Cass got to keep waiting for Jesse’s cruelty for another week, a month, a year...

…he’d wait forever. If only he was that lucky.

***

“Do you ever think he orchestrated it?”

The question caught DeBlanc off guard. He paused in his reading, looking up to find Fiore staring at the bible in his hands. It was another long moment before he was able to put two-and-two together.

“You mean...us?” he asked, voice pitched low.

Fiore gave one, jerky nod.

Taking a deep breath, DeBlanc dropped his gaze and deliberately turned the page, casual. “If that’s true—if our relationship is really a part of his grand plan—then it in no way lessens my love for you. You can plan many wonderful things in this life. Parties. Children. Vacations. Your future. The planning does not take away from the joy of the act itself.”

From the corner of his eye, DeBlanc caught Fiore swallowing.

“And if this is his will then clearly you have his blessing, and... and I am happy for you.”

Silence reigned in the hotel.

“...thank you, DeBlanc.”

***

“Please stop,” Emily whispered, her kids kicking up more of a racket than usual. It was like they were trying to get in a life’s worth of excitement in under an hour. They were indescribable. Endless.

She loved them—of course she did—but sometimes Emily wondered if this was the only life waiting for her. Three chaotic toddlers who’d turn into sullen teenagers, then adults who wanted little from her but money and material support. It was a horrible thought... but one based in evidence, if the history of this town was anything to go by.

Emily hung her head, rubbing fiercely at her eyes. There must be something. Something else to look forward to. A meaning to this life—

No. She thought she’d found that in a preacher.

“Please,” Emily begged, unsure if it was a demand or a prayer. “Give me something—”

And something came. For a brief second it was the hottest wave against the back of her neck. Emily had just enough time to straighten, turn, and catch nothing but white on the horizon.

She indeed found something in death.

***

Another morning, another routine to run through. Jesse took the shower as Cass fetched breakfast. Tulip cleaned up while Jesse ate. Cass gathered there shit until Tulip was ready to go. They had differing needs and preferences at the start of start their day, but they all took a moment to acknowledge the mirror.

Jesse took stock of the new scars on his face. He catalogued them, forcing himself to remember each mistake.

Tulip did the same, though her scars were figurative. You couldn’t see them on her skin, but she knew they were there. Her mouth had never puckered like that. Her eyes didn’t use to be that heavy.

And Cass did what he’d done for decades: watching the slow, seamless change he underwent, year by year. He didn’t get older exactly... he just got different.

They took stock of who they were on that day and what those people needed to do.

Only then did they walk out the door.

***

“I’ve got a plan,” Cass hissed, just loud enough for Tulip and Jesse to hear. It was like a breath of fresh air after being stuck in a stuffy room. Unconsciously, both of them relaxed—just a bit.

“Yeah?” Tulip said. She eased back a step and the mass of gang members came even closer. She froze, listening to the sounds of weights shifting, weapons readying, the tipping point before all-out chaos. “Care to share?”

“Remember RWBY?”

If the situation hadn’t been so dire they would have balked. As it was, Jesse barely restrained from kicking him.

No, no. Kick the enemies. The hoard of them.

So Jesse swallowed instead, praying that this was going somewhere. “That shitty anime you had us watch?”

“It’s a web series and yes. C’mon, you noobs. The fuck did Jaune say before they fought the Nevermore?”

Jesse was staring like Cass had lost his mind, but Tulip actually cast her mind back.

“Run and live,” she said.

Cass straightened, grinning. “Yeah, luv. That’s an idea I can get behind.”

Jesse pursed his lips. “Run it is then,” and the three of them kicked up dust as they got the hell out of dodge.

***

“It ain’t that complicated,” Cass drawled. Their bartender seemed to think otherwise.

She pointed at them each in turn, as she’d done twice now throughout the night. The other patrons were starting to get real sick of being ignored, but a few quick looks from Jesse kept them planted in their seats.

The woman bit her lip in concentration. Her pointer finger settled on Tulip. “So you and the preacher had a thing way back,” she said slowly. “Broke up. Then the preacher man started a thing with him...”

“Name’s Jesse,” Jesse muttered, not for the first time.

“And the two of you, you two men...”

“Were together,” Tulip finished for her, voice tight.

“...right.” The bartender nodded just a little too forcefully. “But then the preacher got back together with you, but you didn’t break up with you—”

“We’re all dating,” Cass bit out. “We’re. All. Dating.”

She snapped her mouth shut before smiling awkwardly. “But how does that work?”

“Jesus fuckin’ christ.”

***

“Aww, ain’t he cute,” Cass sang, pinching Jesse’s cheek. Rosy coloring and deep, even breathes. He didn’t stir. ‘Dead to the world’ didn’t even begin to cover Jesse’s state. Cass was sort of tempted to take a picture. And then plaster it everywhere.

The stares pulled him out of his daydream though. Cass side-eyed the people lined up on either side of the street, pausing in their daily lives solely to give them the stink-eye.

“Uh...”

Tulip smirked. “Really. You’d think they never saw a black woman carrying a white preacher bridal style before.”

***

Saturday morning and things were as perfect as they’d ever been. The church goers weren’t due for another hour, giving them plenty of time for a hearty breakfast before things got underway. Tulip had made up a variety of options (well, she’d bought frozen and microwavable things) and she and Cass both were still dressed in nothing but t-shirts—both of which were Jesse’s. It was going to be another hot day, but for now it was just pleasantly warm. Scattered beams of sunlight fell in patterns across the table.

“Hit me with the waffles,” Tulip said, her foot sneaking out play with Jesse’s beneath the table. He grinned and caught her in a quick kiss.

“Now that ain’t fair,” Cass teased, so of course he got one too.

Jesse couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this happy.

And yet... he paused, suddenly the plate of waffles held suspended in the air. The briefest flicker of doubt crossed his face and Jesse acknowledged the shiver that ran down his spine

“Is… is this a dream?” he murmured.

Cass smiled. “Well of course it’s a fuckin’ dream. You’re never gettin’ the nine-to-five life. But I’ll tell you, Padre, you’ve got another twenty minutes before you gotta wake up.”

Jessie nodded, then finished passing the food. “...Alright then. That’ll do.”