#i can't accept it's getting warmer outside

[mynameisbillandimaheadcase]

Tw

[peppermintquartz]

Who did the post about young and openly queer Eddie and S2 Buck competing to pick up guys? Drop your link in the replies, I can't find that post 😅

-

The tall, handsome man in a black shirt leaning against the bar chatting to the bartender catches both their eyes. That jawline is carved from marble, probably, and while he's broad in the shoulder, he's deliciously trim at the waist, and with his shirt opened to the navel, he's showing off a beautifully sculpted torso. And judging by the tightness of his jeans, those thighs would be a joy to have clamped around you.

Buck feels his mouth go dry when Tall Handsome Man tilts his head back to drink a shot , revealing the lines of his neck, and a earring dangles, catching the light. He cocks his head at Eddie Diaz beside him. "Ten says he gives me his number."

"Ten says I get it," Eddie replies.

They've both put on their best outfits for the venue, of course. Eddie has his hair tousled just so, and his sheer shirt glitters in the lights of the club. And when he showed up outside the club to meet Buck, his leather pants left very little to the imagination.

Buck thinks he's not too shabby himself. His curls are left just free enough to garner several interested glances as he passes, and his own ripped black jeans show off his long legs, the rips at the thighs and knees a teaser for his muscles (never skip leg day!) while a single tear under the right back pocket entices with each step he takes. His black mesh top doesn't glitter, but it does show off his chest and allows him to display his arms. More than three try to hold his hand as he and Eddie make their way towards the bar, not that Buck is really counting.

Eddie takes the left of Tall Handsome Man, and Buck takes the right, leaning against the bar and sidling close.

"Hi," Buck says. It's a solid opening, nothing sleazy or funny. Tall Handsome Man is as tall as he is, but close to, he's definitely broader in the shoulder. The earring - two loose chains with a crystal at the ends - dangles, like a lure. Buck wants to take the bait.

"Hey," says the man, his small smile welcoming whatever Buck is about to do, it seems.

Eddie interrupts. "Hey gorgeous. Any chance I could buy you a drink in exchange for giving you my name?"

Tall Handsome Man raises an eyebrow. Damn, is that eyeliner? Buck feels himself getting warm. "I wouldn't say no to you."

"I'm Evan," Buck says quickly, before his prize is stolen away by Eddie's big brown eyes. He smiles when the guy turns to look at him. "It's only polite to tell someone your name if they give it to you, isn't it?"

"It is," the man agrees. His eyes are crinkling up, like he's amused. "I'm-mm!"

Buck realizes he's put his hand over the guy's mouth only after he's done it. Apologetic but keeping his hand there, he says, "Tell me, not him."

"It's a freaking name, Buckley, chill," Eddie says, rolling his eyes.

Handsome Man laughs and his lips move under Buck's palm, like he's just kissed it. Buck feels the back of his neck grow warm, and it grows warmer when the man takes his wrist - holy fuck it's big and strong - and lowers Buck's hand.

Leaning forward to whisper in Buck's ear, he says, "I'm Tommy."

Buck feels a shiver from the top of his spine all the way down. He angles his head so his own lips can touch Tommy's cheek. "Evan Buckley."

"Yeah, I figured that out."

Eddie must have got the drinks, because Tommy is now turning to him and accepting a beer. They clink their drinks and Eddie says, "Edmundo Díaz, but friends call me Eddie."

Tommy smiles languidly. "Eddie it is then. I'm Tommy."

"Hey, you weren't supposed to tell him," Buck protests, taking the chance to press closer.

Tommy grins, the expression making him look younger. "Someone told me it's polite to tell people your name after they told you theirs."

Buck pouts. Tommy laughs and orders a drink for him.

While waiting on the bartender, Eddie reaches a finger out to flick Tommy's dangling earring. "So what do you do for fun, Tommy?"

"Get hit on by two of the most beautiful men I've ever seen," Tommy replies and takes a sip of his beer. "For tonight, at least."

"Oh, you're smooth," Buck marvels.

Eddie chuckles. "If we're not around?"

"I fly for fun. And I practice Muay Thai."

On hearing that, Buck's heart sinks. Eddie does Muay Thai. He watches with growing jealousy while Eddie and Tommy chat, and sips on the drink Tommy's ordered for him.

Then Tommy turns to Buck. "And what about you? What do you do for fun?"

"I, uh, I'm learning to cook," says Buck. And he is, sort of, if observing Cap and taking notes is actually learning. "I've picked up several skills but none of them are, like, hobbies."

"Oh?" Tommy for his part sounds interested. "What kind of skills?"

Is that a chance? Buck adjusts his position so that his arm is pressing against Tommy's. "Bartending, surfing, construction, horse-riding..."

"Am I speaking to a cowboy then?" Tommy asks.

"Well, if you want, I could show you how well I ride," Buck says boldly. It's a terrible line, but sometimes terrible lines delivered with full confidence can be charming. At least that's what some people have told him.

Eddie has large, beautiful eyes, so when he rolls them in disbelief, it's really obvious that he's doing so. "You might as well show up in chaps over a thong, Buckley."

"Shut up, Diaz," Buck retorts, his cheeks flaming, keeping his gaze on Tommy.

It's Tommy's turn to chuckle. "Okay, so are you two boyfriends doing some kinda roleplay or is this some weird competition?"

"We're not dating-" "He's not my boyfriend-"

Tommy holds up a hand. "Well, in that case I'm very flattered. You both are absolutely gorgeous men and, uh, I'm not sure what you're doing with me."

"Easy," says Eddie. He runs a finger along Tommy's forearm. "I wanna dance with you for a bit, get all hot and sweaty and comfortable with each other, get your number, and maybe we go to my place for the night."

"Please, you can't bring him to your home." Buck slides an arm around Tommy's waist and tugs. To his surprise, he ends up pulling himself closer to Tommy, not the other way round. "Your son is probably still up playing video games."

"You have a son?" Tommy asks.

Eddie glares at Buck. "Yes, and he's with his cousins tonight. So my house is empty."

It's Buck's turn to roll his eyes. "For tonight."

Tommy holds up both hands this time, now grinning. "Okay! It really does my ego good to be fought over, but uh, I'm not really looking to go home with either of you. Yet. It's only my second time out here, so, um." His demeanor turns a little shy. "If you guys wanna dance? I mean, I'm open to it, and if you decide after seeing my dancing that I'm not that big a catch, it's fine too."

Buck tightens his hold on Tommy's waist. "You are definitely a catch. Any chance I can snag your number now? So I can call without this guy trying to horn in."

"You're the one trying to upstage me," Eddie argues.

"Boys! Boys, relax. You'll both get my number. Then can we dance? I'm really not used to being the center of attention and, uh, there are lots of eyes this way." Tommy licks his lips, and Buck's gaze immediately locks onto the wet sheen of Tommy's lower lip. He glances away to find Eddie staring hungrily and shamelessly af Tommy's mouth.

Tommy takes a napkin, rips it in two and scribbles his number onto both with a pen borrowed from the bartender. Buck all but snatches it and sticks it into his pocket (it's a tight squeeze but he manages). Eddie folds it and tucks it into a back pocket.

Then Tommy saunters onto the dance floor, whirls around and offers both his hands. Eddie and Buck glare at each other, but they do take Tommy's hands and let themselves be led into a dance for all three of them.

(Next morning has them all wake up at Tommy's in a naked tangle of limbs, and Tommy declares himself the winner of their rivalry.)

[pedrithink]

love is not easy ✩ kylian mbappé

summary: everything seems more difficult when you are the shadow of your older sister and Kylian and her are in love with each other.

Your life has always been about being your sister's shadow and you understand, Ana is incredible. You are so proud of the person she is and extremely grateful that you were chosen to be her sister. But, I don't know? the feeling of emptiness, of never feeling good enough and of always being the second choice in people's lives hurts you a lot.

The way you will always be inferior to her hurts you and you know that no matter what you achieve, she will always achieve something greater and be more glorified for it. Your parents love you, you know that. But, Ana is special and they never let you forget that. To always be in second place, to always feel inferior. Even though when several people are with you, the world seems to be different, the sun seems to be warmer, and the light more intense.

Your thoughts disperse when Ana enters the room dressed in a long black dress and a lot of jewelry adorning her body. "Hey, my little pumpkin. I'm leaving, Kylian is already waiting for me outside." Kylian. Your heart races just hearing that name. "He asked me to check again if you're sure you don't want to go."

Kylian has known you since he was 11 years old (You having 9 and Ana having 11), you saw him as he left for another country to pursue his dream of playing soccer and to come back to Paris and become the world star he is today.

You can't ignore and lie that you have always been in love with him, these feelings didn't come out of nowhere. At the age of 15, when he came into your room and opened up to you, that's when it all started. He revealed all his fears and insecurities and his sincerity so openly, you could only look into those dark eyes and feel bad for falling so intensely in love with someone who was perfect for your sister.

Your parents always expected and made sure that Kylian and Ana would become a couple, and every time they went out together, like now, your heart would tear a little more. It's always been this way and it always will be.

So, during these last few days, you've been trying to ignore Kylian as much as you can to try to make these feelings go away. If pretending they don't exist didn't work, you hope that this way it will. You know it's not fair to him, but you just can't stand to feel it anymore.

You just feel your cell phone vibrating and try to shut off your brain from these painful thoughts, you seem to enjoy hurting yourself by trying to imagine a reality where Kylian would choose you over Ana. You know that's impossible.

Ky <3: Is everything okay?

Ky <3: I can't help but get upset every time you refuse to go to an event with me.

You let out a weak smile. Kylian, unconsciously, was the reason for your pain and, at the same time, was the only person who could make you feel completely alive.

You: i'm fine :)

You: enjoy tonight, mbappé. you deserve it, my world champion. <3

You try to turn off your phone so your brain doesn't activate the curiosity mode and you end up on twitter or instagram, you're not in the mood to hurt yourself by seeing so many pictures of Kylian with Ana right now. It's ok to feel sad because he doesn't feel the same way, but not torture yourself.

Trying to fall asleep when so much is going on around you is so hard. You just want to try to stop thinking about what they must be doing right now, you just want all this feeling of over 8 years to just go away. It's not fair to feel all of this alone, to endure all of this alone. Kylian is in love with Ana and she is in love with him. You have to accept this and move on with your life.

As you try to dispel these exhausting thoughts, your mind will shut down and you will finally be able to sleep.

The next morning, as you are walking down the stairs towards the kitchen, you hear different footsteps. Ana is not so cheerful in the morning, actually, she has always been a night person.

As you enter the kitchen you are startled by the figure of Kylian preparing breakfast.

He turns around and is startled by your totally static presence. "Hey, beautiful." Kylian approaches you to deposit a kiss on your head. "Are you running away from me? I've missed you these last few days."

You let out a nervous laugh and disperse from the half-hug Kylian has formed. "Of course not, Ky." You pick up a mug and pour in some of the coffee Kylian prepared this morning. "I'm just busy with college, that's all."

He doesn't believe you because he knows you, he can tell for sure when you are lying: "If you don't want to go out with me, you don't have to lie." He makes it obvious that he's upset that you keep running away from anything involving him.

"It's not that, Ky. It really isn't." You snap back and take his hand while leaving a caress, moving your thumb up and down his hand. "It's just that…Ana does better in your world." You let out a weak laugh to try to get him to relax, you don't know, but he's afraid of losing you. "I'm weird, you know."

He makes a disapproving expression under your self-deprecating manner and pulls you into another hug. "My world is only the one that can fit you, there is nothing about me that you are not included."

With your heart racing you detach yourself again from the embrace formed by Kylian and try to ignore that girl in love look your brain almost commands you to make. It's surreal, it seems that this feeling will never go away. Loving Kylian is a part of you.

You are so lost in this moment with Kylian that you only realize that Ana is there when he turns to deposit a kiss on her head. "Good morning, how are we today?" Ana hugs you and deposits a kiss on your cheek, she stays for a few minutes hugging you from the side until she leaves to get some coffee.

You try to ignore and put out of your mind all that moment with Kylian and what he said, you're tired of torturing yourself this way. Kylian doesn't like you and it's time to you got over it and moved on.

When we are all present for breakfast, you try to ignore all curiosity, but it overcomes you. "How was yesterday?"

You notice the way Ana lets out a weak laugh as she stares at Kylian. "It was good, pumpkin. It's always nice to be surrounded by this guy here." He winks at her and briefly strokes her hair. "What about yours? How was it?"

"Normal, same as always."

When you finish eating, you stand up and quickly say that you will go upstairs to your room. Ana and Kylian find it strange that you are so distant, since you have always been a lively person in the morning and always, literally always, started the conversation when you guys are at the breakfast table. Ana keeps it in mind to ask you later what is going on.

While you just wanted to get out of there as fast as possible. You love Ana and you love Kylian, please don't misunderstand. You are happy for them, but the pain consumes you. The pain can be bigger than anything you have seen in the past eight years. You always had it in mind that they would end up together, but you didn't know that you were not ready for when this moment finally came. The feeling of unrequited love is different, intimate, merciless. It is like throwing a ball into the sky and it, defying gravity, disappears. And it is impossible not to stand there waiting for it to come back.

Keeping a feeling in silence is very bad, but, sometimes, you have to stop, reflect and feel it yourself. And you can't choose how you feel, but you can choose what to do about it. And now you know for sure that you will do everything to forget Kylian.

part 2 / part 3

note: so...let me know if you want a part 2 or 3 for this :* xx

[tell-me-a-tale-that-tells]

MI FUTURO

┏━ •◦இ•◦ ━┓

Genre: Fluff

Quote: "Why would I want to see the future when I can't see the present?" and "If I knew what was coming.... how boring would that be?"

Summary : Curious, Bruno asks Reader (who's visually impaired) why she's one of only a few people in town that's never asked for a prophecy. Basically, she tells him she doesn't care about the future. That she's happy right now and that's all that matters. Happy cuddles and kisses ensue.

Notes:

This is the first time I wrote about someone visually impaired, I've made some research to know more about this condition. Please if I've written something offensive or inaccurate tell me.

┗━ •◦இ•◦ ━┛

It was a really hot day in Encanto, the usual joyful chatter of the villagers was replaced by complaints about the weather.

The stone pavement of the main street was able to give off such warmth that it passed through your sandals, but the scorching sun never hit your skin.

Besides you, arm in arm was your favourite person in the entire world, Bruno Madrigal, who was holding an umbrella with his free hand, preventing the strong sunlight from bothering you in any way.

You were heading home after a walk outside, even if the climate conditions were unfavourable when suddenly a thunder reverberated out of nowhere and in no time, more clouds obscured the daylight and rain began to fall.

"Well, that's just fortunate we already have an umbrella, mi amor." You said.

"It's better if we fasten our step, Y/N. This feels like one of Pepa's storms." He suggested.

The smell of wet dirt filled your nose even before your feet could splash into one of the fast forming puddles that cooled down the hot pavement.

Finally arrived at home, Casita greeted you first, with time you discovered that it knows about your condition and invented a sort of sound code just for you.

Casita would raise 3 tiles one after another and drop them and slam the shutter once when you returned.

You didn't have to get too close to Pepa to know that was her, as the sound of thundering and her shouting filled the entire house.

"Pepa, Bruno and I were caught in a storm, did something bad happen?" you questioned.

You know well that there was no need for a serious explanation for Pepa's storms, most of the time, her mood was just sufficient.

"I told Antonio to keep his animal friends in his room! And what did he do? He let a bunch of spectacle bears sleep on my bed! I got bear hairs everywhere!" Pepa shouted, rain was pooling at her feet and the electricity in the air was starting to get visible.

You and Bruno did your best to not laugh and almost failed so hurried into the next room with an excuse.

Bruno led you into the chicken "Did the rain wet your clothes?" You ask him, caressing his shoulders, feeling the fabric of his green ruana slightly damp.

He took your hands in his before answering "Just a few drops but don't worry" and nuzzled at your cheek, his light stubble scratched gently your skin.

"Y/N" a feminine voice called "It's Julieta, are you hungry, my dear? I just made some Milhojas" she offered.

"Yes, thank you." you accepted her gentle offer.

You and Bruno sat at the table one in front of the other, you shyly tried to feed him and he quickly took a bite, liking the idea, he did the same for you until you both finished your milhojas.

Bruno and you walked toward the stairs to the first floor.

"Isabela is growing cactus everywhere, even beside the stairs, be careful, mi vida" he pointed out for you, he was often helpful towards you even when you didn't need it, but you liked his sweet behaviour.

Once in the room you shared with Bruno you changed your clothes into something a bit warmer since the storm outside lowered the temperature, Bruno discarded his ruana.

When you moved in months before, Casita magically redesigned the interior of Bruno's tower.

Hundreds of steps were no more, same for the sand covering everything, all replaced by a two-room ambient, the one on the left was your bedroom furnished with a comfy bed, a fireplace and two armchairs, alcoves were created from the stone walls, full of candles and small bowls, some of which served as a den for the only friends who kept Bruno company for 10 years of his life and for whom he still felt affection, his rats.

The room on the left was a cave with a domed roof for Bruno to use his powers, some people of Encanto started to ask again for his predictions as they were less afraid of what could have been the outcome.

Bruno was so excited by the changes that he immediately helped you to orient yourself in the new room.

You heard the scratching noise of the gramophone before your favourite song started playing, Bruno placed his hands on your hips and whispered in your ear

"Can I have a dance, chica mas linda del pais?"

Bruno always made you giggle like a child due to his sweetness, he was surely awkward around other people but with you, he found himself at ease.

"I'm sure you can, yes" you smiled, resting your head on his chest, feeling his strong heartbeat as you two began moving to the music.

You positioned one hand on his cheek and the other in his curly hair, you always found its softness soothing.

Your feet moved to the notes until the songs ended and you guided him to lay down.

The two of you laid down on the bed, side by side, legs intertwined together and faces just an inch apart.

That closely, you were able to see your lover's face more clearly, his big hazel eyes shone brightly when he was watching you, his freckled cheeks were rosy and his lips were tugged in a soft smile.

You slowly stroked one of his arms, tracing unknown patterns and making his skin rise with goosebumps.

"I never asked you a thing, Y/N" Bruno murmured in a calm tone.

"You always knew about my power, but you're one of the few persons in this village that never asked for a prophecy. Can I ask you why?" He brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You took a deep breath "I don't judge the people who want to know how their future will be but...I can't even see the present, why would I want to see the future?"

Bruno hummed, considering your words as he caressed your arms and sides, sneaking his hands under your blouse to touch the skin of your sides.

"And besides" you continued " All I could ever want is right here with me and I'm the happiest person in the entire world, I have you and your familia."

You leaned and pressed your lips on his, feeling them shaking a bit from the emotion but soon he responded, sharing kisses that tasted like love and promises, adoration and joy.

"So you want to be stuck with me for your whole life?" He said playfully "Even if my rats will tickle you in your sleep?"

He started to tickle your sides and belly, making you laugh and thrash around.

"Please, stop! I surrender, but I won't change my idea!" You told catching your breath.

"I love you, Y/N" he whispered.

"I love you, mi futuro" you answered back.

[mathanlin]

// mentions of hunger, neglect, and cold, blood and injury

Fae AU where fae!Wilbur’s approached by a skinny street kid. 

More accurately, a *pickpocket,* clutching stolen gold in one shaking hand. *He’ll want luck, riches,* Wilbur thinks, amused. *Or food, if he’s stupid—*

“Can I have a hug?” 

“What?”

“A… a hug?” The kid mumbles, swallowing. “I think— you just put your arms around someone and… hold them. I saw someone do it.” 

The clumsy explanation does nothing to answer Wilbur’s real question. 

So he pushes further, intrigued.

“What do you have to give me?”

The kid straightens. “Gold. Enough for a few days of meals, or— or somewhere nice to sleep.”

It’s worthless to Wilbur. 

But it tells him exactly what the kid’s willing to give up. 

So he smiles. “I accept.”

The kid barely moves, flinching as Wilbur steps up to him. Shivering, cowering, like he expects a hit, a shove. Or even just refusal.

But yet when Wilbur slides his arms around his weak, malnourished frame…

The kid melts.

He keeps coming back.

Sunshine. That’s the nickname Wilbur gives him, after the kid (smartly) refuses to give his true name.

But that’s where his intelligence ends.

“Just… talk to me?”

The kid sets a stolen necklace outside the Fae circle, shivering. It’s freezing, his jaw chattering beneath hollow cheeks. 

Wilbur raises an eyebrow, hesitating. “Wouldn’t you rather have a blanket? Some warm food?”

It’s… just a little from the kindness of his heart.

The kid could die like this. He’s already half-starved, beat-up, and alone.

But he still shakes his head weakly. “No. Just… tell me a story.”

It gets warmer. 

The kid appears less, and though Wilbur’s sad, he’s also relieved. Maybe he’s found someone to care for him. Maybe he doesn’t have to gamble his soul for affection.

And then he stumbles into Wilbur’s forest. 

Half-dead. 

“I’ll give you my name,” is the first thing he chokes out, clutching his bloodied side. 

*To heal you?* Wilbur thinks, recoiling. *That’s not worth the cost, surely you know that—*

“Just— stay with me, please?”

“What?”

Wilbur barely whispers it, stunned. Tommy flinches, paling.

“I’m— I’m dying,” he chokes out. Honesty, like the Fae like. 

Wilbur hates it now.

“I don’t want to be alone.”

“Sunshine—”

“Tommy,” the kid says, shaking. “Tommy, my name’s Tommy, you can have it. Please, don’t leave me.”

And of course, Wilbur doesn’t.

(Despite the blood loss, Tommy still sobs with relief when Wilbur picks him up. 

At least he has someone holding him gently, even if he’s being carried into a Fae circle.

And giving his name & soul away was worth it, for this.)

.

.

.

Even after, Tommy can't accept affection. 

It's not that he doesn't want it. Wilbur can tell that each refusal is a flat-out lie.

But Tommy's telling the truth when he whispers, "I'll let you hug me if I can pay you back."

Nothing Wilbur does can convince him that the affection is free. 

And apparently saying, “You don’t have anything I *want,* Tommy,” wasn’t the right thing to say.

Tommy just shuts down further.

Fuck being a Fae. Wilbur’s desperate — and if that means making a deal with a human, even one whose name he has, so be it.

“How about you hug *me?*”

Tommy blinks, eyes half lidded from exhaustion.

“What?”

“I want a hug,” Wilbur says, trying to keep his voice light. He can’t tell lies, and Tommy knows it. 

So maybe that’s why the kid quietly, hesitantly accepts. 

It’s a sort of gentle trickery. 

Tommy will still shiver when Wilbur hugs him back, but it’s better than nothing. He’ll stay rigid when Wilbur asks to brush his hair, like he doesn’t know that Wilbur *wants* him to lean into it.

And the time he does, he panics.

One moment he’s asleep, dozing on Wilbur’s shoulder after a particularly long hug.

And then he’s jolting awake, choking out, “I’m sorry,” before his eyes are even fully open.

“Tommy—”

“I— I’ll pay you. Please, I know you— I don’t have anything you want, but—”

“—no, sunshine, you—”

“—or— or you can give me less? I don’t need blankets, or food, or—”

“Stop.”

It’s a Fae’s command. And with Tommy’s name in his possession, Wilbur shuts him right up.

“I want you to be happy,” he whispers, unable to stop himself from crying. Tommy stares at him, still trembling, but listening. “That’s it, okay?”

“But—”

“I want you to feel loved, Toms, whatever it takes. I want you to ask me when you want affection, or food, *anything.* 

Fae can tell no lies.

“So promise me, sunshine. Promise you’ll ask.”

And they can feel lies, too.

So when Tommy breathes, “I’ll try,” Wilbur finally relaxes. 

[wheels-of-despair]

A Slightly Late Munson Christmas Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie spent Christmas '85 with Evil Woman, but it's time to go home and celebrate with Wayne… what if he brings her along? Contains: Hangin' with the Munsons, Christmas gifts, a sleepover, Eddie finally accepting that this is not a temporary arrangement. Words: 1.4k

"Wayne's coming home tonight."

You open your eyes and try not to show Eddie how sad you are about him going home. He's been with you most of Christmas break, since his uncle started working overtime, and you'd loved every second of it. But he has to go home sometime.

"I know," you mumble, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck. You're nestled into his side, as close as you can be, on the loveseat in your garage. Is it warmer inside? Yes. Do you prefer being out here so Eddie can smoke and you're forced to huddle for warmth? Absolutely.

"Wanna come do Christmas with us?"

"What?" You lift your head to look at him.

"Do you want to come over and have A Slightly Late Munson Christmas with us?" He glances at you, then focuses on the smoke rising from the cigarette in his hand.

You can't fight the grin spreading across your face. "Really?"

"Don't get all excited about it or anything, it's just frozen dinners and whatever's on TV."

He stubs out his cigarette and tries to play it off as no big deal, but you're more excited about this than your own Christmas. Eddie coming to you has become standard, because his uncle works through every holiday. You knew they did a little something together afterward, but he's never invited you to be a part of it before.

"I'd love to."

You shared the plan with your mom, packed a bag, hopped in the van, and went straight to Bradley's Big Buy for the essentials. (TV dinners, beer and soda, some holiday-themed snack cakes that were half-off.)

The trailer was cold when you got there. Eddie turned up the heat, and you both scurried around to straighten up a bit before Wayne came home. Blankets were folded, mugs were washed, ash trays were emptied. You placed your presents for Wayne on the table, as well as a plate of cookies your mom had saved for him.

The tin trays of something slightly resembling food were in the oven and Eddie was in the bathroom when you heard Wayne's truck door slam outside.

He ambles in with half-lidded eyes, and smiles when he sees you leaning against the kitchen counter. "Hey, darlin'."

"Hi, Wayne."

"Hey, old man," Eddie grins, emerging from the hallway.

"Watch it, boy," Wayne warns half-heartedly, causing Eddie's grin to approach Grinch-like intensity.

Wayne sits down in the chair beside the door to unlace his boots. "Y'all have fun?"

"Oh yeah," Eddie says, dropping into the chair across from him. "Stole some lawn ornaments, set fire to some Christmas trees, sacrificed some virgins. The usual."

Wayne sighs and looks to you. "Did he behave?"

"For the most part," you grin. "Chief Hopper let him off with a warning, since it's Christmastime and all."

"You weren't supposed to tell him that!" Eddie stage-whispers angrily.

You chuckle, and Wayne shakes his head. Eddie's watch beeps - which is standing in for the unreliable oven timer - and he reaches for a potholder. He transfers the flimsy foil trays from the oven to the counter to cool, like a pro, then stands next to you.

"Well, while those are coolin', how about presents?"

"Talked to Santa," Wayne says somberly, leaning back to lace his fingers behind his head. "Said he'd have to pass you by this year."

"Well, my girl's mom must've changed his mind, 'cause I had a packed stocking on Christmas morning just like everybody else," Eddie says proudly, hooking his arm around your neck and pulling you close. You wrap an arm around his back and smile up at him, remembering how excited he was every time he pulled out another little gift.

"Really?" Wayne's eyes flick from Eddie to you. You nod subtly, and Wayne smiles. "Well, in that case, I guess it's alright. In the corner, go get 'em." Wayne gestures to his favorite chair. Eddie lets you go with a kiss to the forehead, and goes to investigate. While Eddie's ass is in the air, leaning over the chair and trying to reach the gifts behind it, Wayne looks to you.

"When he was little, I had to lock his presents in the toolbox on my truck. Such a sneak. Gettin' lazy in his old age."

"Not lazy," Eddie grumbles, bringing a few packages wrapped in newspaper to the table. "Just knew I'd never get anything cooler than the Stretch Armstrong that Santa brought me when I was 9." He puts the items on the table and heads for the door. You raise an eyebrow and stay put. He comes back with a bucket, which he flips over and sits on. "C'mon," he says, patting the chair he'd recently vacated.

You sat around the table and exchanged presents while Eddie filled Wayne in on your first real Christmas together, and what "Santa" had filled his stocking with. When your tinfoil dinners were cool enough to handle without burning off your fingertips, you moved to the living room. Wayne propped himself up in his favorite chair, and you and Eddie took the couch. Eddie found an old western on TV, and you ate in a comfortable silence.

When you finished eating, you and Eddie stacked your trays on the coffee table, but made no move to get up. He put an arm around you, you cuddled into his side, and he covered you both with a blanket.

The Slightly Late Munson Christmas was very different from Christmas at your house, but you loved it just as much.

You were rubbing absent-minded patterns on Eddie's leg when a snore rumbled through the room. You jumped in surprise, and Eddie let out a quiet chuckle.

"C'mon," he whispers. "Let's let the old man crash."

You stand and quietly gather your trays and cans - and Wayne's - and take them to the trash can. You place the forks in the sink one by one to avoid clattering while Eddie pulls out Wayne's creaky fold-up bed. The lights are turned off, except for the one above the stove, and you retreat to Eddie's room and close the door.

"Is the chair bad for his back? Should you wake him up?" you ask with concern, sitting on the edge of Eddie's bed.

Eddie shakes his head with a smile and unbuttons his jeans. "He drank two beers, he'll be up to wiz in an hour anyway. Then he can crawl into bed and let the sugar-plum fairies… dance or strip or whatever."

You snort, and he dives into bed in boxers and the t-shirt he'd been wearing all day. You, a more civilized kind of person, slip into the bathroom to change into pajamas. When you return to Eddie's room, he's ditched his shirt and is lying there in bed in what you assume is an attempt at a seductive position.

You roll your eyes and crawl over him, unaffected. He pouts and flips over, so you're lying there facing each other.

"Thanks for inviting me to A Slightly Late Munson Christmas," you whisper.

"Thanks for putting up with me all week," he smiles.

"I want to put up with you all the time."

"Your window to get rid of me is like," he squints and pushes his thumb and index fingers together to leave just a sliver of space, "this close to closing forever."

You reach out and use your own fingers to push his together.

"You're mine, Munson."

Eddie's mouth slips into a lopsided smile, and he leans forward for a kiss. When he pulls away, he looks at his watch and laughs.

"You know it's like 9:30, right? And we're in bed like old people."

"I'm sure we can think of something to keep ourselves awake…" you smirk.

"Yeah?" He waggles his eyebrows. "Wanna make out a little?"

"Eh… I guess," you shrug, like that wasn't your intention all along.

Eddie scoffs and flips over to lie on his other side, facing away from you. He crosses his arms with a dramatic "hmph!"

"Aww," you tease, moving in close and spooning him from behind. You wrap your arm around his middle and nuzzle your cheek to his back. Eventually, his hand closes over yours.

"This was the best Christmas ever," you mumble into his back.

"Hell yeah, it was," he yawns, giving your hand a squeeze.

[nyxiswrites1200]

𝑨𝒍𝒖𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒅'𝒔 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒈𝒚

Fem!Reader x Alucard Hellsing

Warnings: Vampires, biting, Mostly SFW, mild mentions of violence, Reader replaces Seras Victoria, Hellsing Spoilers, Non-canon + Canon events, making out, kissing, blood sharing, spit sharing, praise

Preferably Minors DNI

Nobody tell me this isn't canon, I'm aware, I'm delulu and I needed this, love y'all <3

AO3 Link

----

When you find yourself stuck between two evils, a vampire trying to kill you, and a vampire trying to hunt that vampire; you're not sure how you got here.

Alucard's gun fires and you feel the familiar pain in your chest- and then you jolt awake.

These nightmares have been popping up a lot lately. Of the day you met Alucard, your master. You jolt again when you meet a familiar dark presence lurking in the corner of the room.

"Master?" You ask softly, and Alucard's tall and dark figure approaches you.

"I know you haven't been sleeping well, mortal girl", he states the obvious as he reaches the table and sits down. The ice bucket with a single pack of blood still sits there, untouched by you.

You sigh and help yourself off the bed, taking a seat across from Alucard. "And you're not eating" he states the obvious yet again.

"I'm immortal now, remember?" You respond with a bit of an attitude but you forget Alucard is quite sassy himself. "Won't be for long if you don't eat" he snarks as a response.

You knew he was right, but you never wanted to go on admitting that. Another sigh leaves you as you sit back in the chair.

Alucard narrows his eyes at you before removing his tinted glasses and hat. You always forget how hauntingly beautiful this undead man is. Leading to you forgetting the way your face feels warm when he speaks to you like this, in such a personal manner.

"Listen, police girl, you have to consume blood eventually. Whether you like the idea or not, it's not avoidable" he explains, trying to be blunt but also reason with his prodigy. He knows this isn't ideal for you, nor him either. But he has no hard feelings for you, he never wants to see you hurt because of him. He kills horrid vampires, and cruel beings, and maybe sometimes whatever interests him is a good fight. Outside of that, his interests are beyond even your imagination of what he wants.

"I know, Alucard. But it's just... I know what I am, but I feel like a monster. I just can't get past that." You try to explain but find yourself frustrated in trying.

"Police girl, we are monsters. There's no denying any part of that. Do you think me a monster, an awful person, darling?" He asks as a casual smirk plays on his lips, showing his fangs a bit.

"Mm... You are a monster, master. But I do not think you are awful. You help innocent people in your own way and you protect Integra and me..." You respond as you feel the scar on your throat from that damned priest's knife.

Alucard lets out a sound of acceptance as a response before he speaks "Then there's your answer. You watched me drink from that journalist woman, you know my nature as well as you know yours. You just won't commit to yours." He explains before he holds out a gloved hand, motioning to the blood packet in front of him. "Do you need me to feed you for God's sake, darling?" He says in a mocking manner with a laugh. Though you wouldn't mind that, and your silence prompts him to get that memo a little too quickly.

Alucard chuckles, as he picks up the blood packet from the ice.

"Always have to watch after you. Such a clumsy girl you are, darling. Not that I mind, it does add some interest to my immortal torment." He adds a smirk before opening the blood packet. You're unsure of what to say when he gets like this; you just sit there with your face continuing to feel warmer by the second.

Alucard pours a bit of the blood into his mouth, getting a taste for it. It's not quite his style, considering he much prefers something fresh, but he'll manage for his prodigy.

Alucard stands from his seat, stalking over to you. You already had a feeling you knew what he was gonna do, and you weren't against it in the slightest bit.

"Do you want my help, darling?" He asks in one of his gentler tones that you can hardly believe he manages. It doesn't take you long to utter a small yes as a response.

Alucard finishes put the blood packet into his mouth before leaning down and kissing him deeply. His long tongue slips into your mouth as you taste the blood he drank. You swallowed without a second thought for once.

Alucard pulls off one of his gloves and gently holds your chin, making sure you don't spill any. You feel your breath hitch as you finish drinking the blood from Alucard's mouth. But he hasn't pulled away yet.

His tongue is still slipping against yours, making you almost drool. You find yourself tangling a hand into his long, black hair, needing to ground yourself on something.

You swear you hear him groan as he finally pulls away, a string of saliva following his tongue as it leaves your mouth.

He composes himself, you're not even sure how to compose yourself from that.

"Good girl" he praises you, as he pulls his gloves back on.

"Um... Thank you, master" you muttered, still embarrassed and unsure of what to say to that. Alucard smirks and chuckles a little at your flustered response.

"Take care of yourself, police girl" was his only response before he disappeared into a black void.

Leaving you flustered and partially confused, you just made out with a centuries-possibly old vampire...

[doeilovr]

[2:02 AM]

It was cold outside, you had your arms crossed in front of your chest in an attempt to feel at least a bit warmer.

You were waking down the street some time after midnight, the full moon and the stars were shining and you could hear waves crash softly in the distance.

Next to you, arm brushing yours every now and then, was your crush.

You've spent the entire summer with him, meeting for coffee in the mornings, going out for lunch, taking a swim or getting kind of drunk after work at night. It all happened at least once.

Another thing that happens at least once - having a crush. And so for this summer - for the first time in your life - you had a crush. And it was no other than Mark.

"So you will leave early tomorrow?"

Marks voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

"My friend is gonna take me to the airport at 12", you bit your lips.

This was your last night, the last time for you to see Mark for god knows how long. It hurt a bit.

"Ah, that's nice."

You hummed, feeling slightly awkward.

The thing about your crush on Mark was that Mark himself knew about it. You told him, you confessed.

And you talked it out, settling on being good friends, because Mark was still getting over a fairly recent heartbreak.

And you had cried days and nights. But it didn't matter anymore, you got over your pain and accepted the situation and Mark's decision. After all, what else could you have done.

"I think it's sad", Mark chuckled, "it's sad we're all leaving and this summer is ending."

You nodded, "yes I know."

You had almost reached your apartment, Mark having insisted on walking you home.

"I think we will probably not see each other for a while after tonight."

You glanced over at Mark and you weren't sure if it was because of the cold or if he was holding back tears, but he sniffled a few times.

"Do you still want to be in contact with me even after you leave?" Mark asked very carefully.

"What? Of course, I want to, if that's okay with you?" You looked at him, stopping in your tracks as you were now standing next to your front door.

"Yes me too", Mark smiled, "I would like that."

You smiled too.

"Alright, there we are, so, there is one more thing I want to say", Mark paused, stepped closer to you. "You are very lovely and I wish I could give you what you want and deserve. "

"Mark", you whispered. It hurt a bit.

Mark gave you a half smile, his eyes glistening. "But my heart is not well and before I can't fix it, I don't think I should give it away. You deserve a strong heart and all the love in the world."

Your eyes burned, "No, Mark. I just ask for you."

"Maybe when we meet again my heart will be fixed. And then, if you are still interested, we could try again."

Mark grabbed your hand and squeezed it.

You held back tears as you looked up at him. You understood it and altough you just asked for him to stay by your side, you understood that he needed space and time to heal.

There wasn't a lot you could say or wanted to say. Now you needed time, too.

You softly smiled. "Okay."

Mark smiled too and pulled you into a long hug. "I'll come visit you next month, as planned."

You stepped back and smiled widely. "I'll ask you again then. Is that okay?" Your eyes were sparkling with hope.

Mark chuckled softly. "Ask me again in a month, yes."

"Okay, I'll see you then", you waved at him and stepped back even further to where your door was. "Wait for me."

"I will", Mark nodded, watching you disappear inside your apartment building.

[indignantlemur]

My dear Indi, I need your expertise !

Do you have any ideas or headcanons for Andorian outfits, from lighter to warmer? What would they look like in general, what texture is most appreciated or considered fashionable ?

Thanks ! 💙

Hello Zier! Let's see what I can do for you! Fair warning, this one is going to be image-heavy.

For the most part, Andorian fashion in my headcanons isn't unified. Different folks prefer to wear different things, same as Humans, but there are broader elements that are quite common.

Firstly, we know from ENT and subsequent appearances in the modern Treks that Andorians tend to wear a lot of leather, often embossed or tooled to have a particular sort of feel. The samples below from Discovery give me powerful 2009-2013 Gareth Pugh vibes.

Beyond that, the only other time we see Andorians is when they're in Imperial Guard or Starfleet uniforms, which mostly just gives an overall impression of leather, suede, and future-kevlar.

The Andorian ambassador in "Terra Prime" had a very different feel from these, of course, and that shiny outer robe ultimately inspired Thoris' official get-up.

By contrast, some super early screen tests and comic book depictions for everyday Andorians look rather different, however. We've got draping fabrics, robes, tunics, some thigh high boots, and what looks like bits of armoured studding and chainmail. That's quite the departure from the other depictions!

And then, of course, we have Shran's post-Imperial Guard coat. This one gets its own mention, because that coat is fabulous.

Honestly, this isn't a lot to work with. It's better than nothing, of course, but the different depictions feel very disjointed and all over the place. There's no sense of unity in the designs across the board.

So, from there I looked to real-world fashion to help me build a better idea of what I wanted my Andorians to actually look like outside of a uniform. As much as their depictions would lead us to believe that Andorians have an oddly prevalent leather kink, that's really not practical. Leather is a useful material, and certainly a heavily carnivorous population would end up with quite a lot of it, but surely that can't be everything they wear. So, I started looking around for things that felt like they fit the vague aesthetic we were given to work with.

Below are some samples from the ungodly huge pinterest board I keep for ideas and references for Andorian fashion. I think these mostly hit all the key notes for my headcanons.

A lot of these images are very bland in terms of colour, particularly by Andorian standards, but I think you should be able to see what I've drawn inspiration from.

What I ended up with was a combination of future-fashion elements, and influences from places like Japan and India - with a heavy slant towards using leather, silk, velvet and occasionally soft, drapey fabrics. Heavy ornamentation, such as embroidery, is very common but lacework on clothing is actually quite unusual. Andorians tend to find it catches on their chitin and tears too often to be worth the fuss.

In particular, I really like the idea of layers, off-set or asymmetrical necklines, and elements of structural/architectural fashion for Andorians. Tooled leather is very popular, as well.

Another detail about Andorian fashion that I've mentioned a few times in other posts is that they like to show off their chitin patterns. Often this is done using leather as the medium, but embroidery is also a perfectly acceptable option. Often times, these articles of clothing (usually outerwear but not always) will have a Clan sigil somewhere on it as well, but it's not at all a requirement. These practices accomplish a couple of different things:

Firstly, it offers prospective playmates a tantalising 'preview' of what's underneath. Andorians are not shy about these things, nor do they understand why aliens think they should be. Some Andorians find particular types of chitin patterns very attractive, while some are averse to partners with what they perceive to be too much or too little chitin - or worse, chitin patterns that are far too similar to their own, which would suggest a shared lineage somewhere.

Secondly, it shows off Clan affiliations, especially for Clan members who were not born with their Clan's 'typical' chitin pattern. (Married individuals will often wear things that show their affiliation to both their birth Clan and their marriage Clan, as well, though these are usually ornamental items such as jewellery or hair pieces.)

Thirdly, wearing one's Clan affiliations stamped on their sleeves can sometimes serve as a conflict deterrent. Some Clans are just not worth picking a fight with, and knowing who's who ahead of time instead of after someone says something spectacularly stupid tends to save lives. Since the Unification, the need for these sorts of deterrents has dropped substantially, but it's never entirely gone from Andorian society.

This is not to say that I imagine that all Andorians wear the same things. Being able to express individual preferences is very important, especially in a society where most other individualistic pursuits are seen as counter-productive to the harmony and unity of a community.

Shral, for example, deviates from the norm by preferring dark colours and minimal ornamentation. To other Andorians, his sartorial choices are almost conspicuously bland. On the other end of the spectrum, Thelen adores vivid colours - neon oranges, shocking yellows, acid greens - and fully embraces the bombastic colour palettes his people are known for. Thoris is doomed to be trapped in billowing robes he'd much rather burn in a steel drum behind the embassy under cover of darkness, but he prefers layered tunics, boots, and breeches that don't inhibit his movement. Vrath is in the middle of the road, favouring bold colours and practical clothing but never quite able to resist bits of ornamentation that give her wealthy Tha'an Clan allegiance away. Miraal, on the other hand, adore soft, draping fabrics and wears very little leather, or any other similarly heavy materials, and she prefers to wear minimal ornamentation so as not to distract from her wares.

In terms of seasonal clothing, Andorians can tolerate very broad rangers of temperatures, and they have thermal regulators built into much of their clothing. They can get away with quite a lot, in terms of weather, but a heavily cultivated sense of caution generally prevents them from wandering out into surface conditions wearing anything less than full winter gear - though, naturally, their idea of full winter gear is rather lighter than what a Human would go in for. In extreme heat, Andorians have no problem wearing as little as possible - often to the consternation of other species who do not share their total lack of nudity taboos.

Regarding colours, I headcanon that much like how Vulcans view green as a traditional mating colour owing to the hue of their blood, and Humans view red much the same way, so too do Andorians with the colour blue. Just wearing blue alone isn't an invitation for anything, but it is very noticeable and considered a very attractive colour. Wearing a particularly fetching shade of blue while lurking in a bar and being very noticeably single, however...

Andorian silk is a luxury item, and one in high demand. Made from cocoons harvested from a domesticated relative of the infamous Andorian ice borers, it's ten times stronger than Terran silk, rendering it resistant to slashing and piercing damage. It can be woven into heavy brocades or crafted into a diaphanous, organza-like material, or blended with other fibres. It almost always has a slight iridescent or even metallic shine to it, a highly coveted property, and it is ludicrously expensive.

Hope this helps! <3

[mocharoll]

(Ominis/GN!Reader) The Fools

An Ode to Young Love and Recovery

Summary: Two years post-game. Your final year at Hogwarts calls for early celebrations at the Three Broomsticks as you continue to struggle with your past. Only, you're slowly starting to learn that it is not enough for you to try and bury your memories, but to nurture them instead so one day they can become trees.

Rating: Mature (Implied sexual content, aged up characters)

Content: Angst, romance, humour, (self-)acceptance, trauma recovery, insights on growing up, raging hormones of young adults, a lot of fluff and a lot of love.

No real spoilers for the end of the game and spoilers for Sebastian's questline.

Link to the series: The Gaunt Who Loved

—

It was a mild September's evening, with the molten gold hues of the sky getting even warmer as the sun stretched over the horizon and across the evergreen hills surrounding Hogsmeade. Despite summer having ended some time ago, nature was showing no signs of grogginess so far. It's as if the Sun had not yet realised that it was indeed autumn, and missed the memo that he was supposed to be going to sleep earlier. Maybe today he wanted to watch all the ruckus that was going on, down there in the Three Broomsticks, for just a while longer. You approach the lively pub with a soft smile and tranquil spirits, having arrived a bit earlier to have a private celebration with your partner.

You are about to begin your last year in Hogwarts. It has been two years since you embarked on your fateful journey and your life took a rather jagged turn, going so rapidly in-between ups and downs that on a graph it must resemble overused scratch paper. Since all you've been through with your friends in foiling Ranrok and Rookwood's plans, the rest of your time has been quite relaxed and uneventful, at least by Hogwarts standards, so much so that one might suspect it to be early retirement.

When your fifth year had come to an end, Sebastian and Ominis were at an impass. Not only due to their strained relationship and their hesitance in approaching the other in fear of overstepping their boundaries, which was especially true for Sebastian, who did most offense albeit meaning no actual harm, but also due to Anne's refusal to have anything to do with her twin immediately after the incident. All of a sudden the boys didn't have anywhere to go. As such, it was only fair that you and your family opened your doors to your first ever friends in Hogwarts, who welcomed you with open arms when you were expecting a cold welcome as a relative outsider. Your parents, who were incredibly glad to not having to be scared witless for the the safety of their only child, who was miles away from them and in constant danger, did not hesitate for a single second to accept the fold into their home. Your friends were ever so grateful to be given the opportunity to heal and reconnect in a place where they didn't need to constantly be on their guard. Even so, everything that has happened in your fifth year seemed like a memory that couldn't stay in the past where it belonged. With every year that passed, the more randomly the remnants of all that has transpired resurfaced from your collective memory, and at unpredictable intervals.

"A year ago today I nearly became dragon kibble," said with mock indignance, petting the family cat that had just gotten used to the presence of more than three people being present at once in the house.

"Can't believe we all managed to get dragged into all sorts of trouble soon after we met you," said fondly with a twinge of melancholy, listening intently for any cues of positive or negative reactions, yet finding only melancholy palpably reflected back at him. Melancholy for what, nobody really knew. Loss of innocence? Although none of you had the innocence of what was expected in a typical teenager. The acknowledgement of lost innocence, perhaps.

"It's been two years since Solomon died," said abruptly, the monotonous tone betraying deep and persistent hurt, only a few minutes after you all had been laughing about Garreth's antics at Potions class. It had felt like someone poured a bucket of ice water over your head, freezing you with the same paralysing dread as when you realised what had happened. That Solomon had died in his sleep, peacefully.

You wince at the memories and all the lies you've had to tell in order to cover up those memories, albeit to little success. Your eyes instinctively close shut, yet it barely stops the part of your brain that is still terrified yet intent on replaying all that has happened, nor is it effective in distracting you from the faint prickling at the base of your skull that has been reoccurring in short bursts ever since you were hit by the Cruciatus curse, like a muted cascade of static electricity.

It's been getting better, you reassure yourself, because you don't yet know what to make of the other alternative, which is that you've only gotten used to the sensation. Of course, your friends have been of tremendous help as you healed, both physically and mentally, and for a while they were the one grounding factor that kept you sane. That is, after they knew how they could effectively help you better when you finally relented and told them you needed their help. You are forever grateful for them; for their support, patience and compassion. It is then you became aware of how incredibly lucky you were to be surrounded by so much positivity and tenderness. Perhaps you needed to survive such a calamity to realise how loved you really are.

"Are you intent on standing there any longer?" You hear a familiar voice ring out behind you, the musical lilts brimming with amusement. "If so, please be so kind to step aside so at least one of us can enjoy the butterbeer that you had proposed we get." You can't help but smile to yourself and at the warmth spreading out from the centre of your chest, which promptly dispels the remaining dark clouds behind your eyes. Normally it takes way more effort for anyone, let alone you, to pull you out from the eye of a storm like this, but that's just the effect this guy always had on you; the kind that passes through your defences as gently as the foam of sea waves caress the farthest edges of the sand. His influence over you has never alarmed you, and frankly you allowed for it, because you are well aware that the disgust he misplaces in himself due to his family's reputation and how utterly wary he is of his capacity to hurt others makes him that much more careful not to betray the trust of those he cares about. Hence you've never hidden your positive reactions from him when he's around, even before you were together, because your trust in him helped him build trust in himself.

With that, your eyes flutter open, your otherwise heavy eyelids showing no resistance, and you blink rapidly to clear the remaining fog to see the reflection on the door. Surely enough, you see none other than Ominis standing behind you, wand resting at his side, his bemused expression otherwise displaying calm patience.

"Hey, you!" You sigh in relief.

"Hey." He lifts his gaze from the ground and brings it up towards the direction of your voice, smiling warmly. He lifts his other arm slightly and curves his hand inwards, beckoning you to come closer.

You don't need to be asked twice. You step into his space in practiced confidence that still gives you butterflies and wrap your arms underneath his, your head landing right underneath his jaw as he wraps around you. Ominis didn't use to be too big on hugs, mostly because they startled him if a verbal warning wasn't given beforehand and, well, he's not used to the gesture all that much. Or rather he wasn't, because your inclination for showing affection through physical contact, which he found endearingly tolerable at first, became something he greatly enjoyed and eventually gladly initiated. You swear every time you tuck your head in the crook of his neck you can feel how tall he's gotten since the last time you hugged, especially considering the first time around you were almost the same height! Each hug feels a little different than the last, although the reason for that is completely unrelated to height.

After a few blissful seconds, or more (you can't really tell at this point), you lean your head back a tiny bit to look at him. Despite the mature sharpness of the lines of his face and the slight hollowness of his cheeks that was a temporary side effect of growth spurts, you could still see the softness in his features and in his unfocused eyes that were somehow able to see all of you at once. He is getting more handsome with each passing month and you'd be lying if you didn't enjoy making him blush with your attestations of just how attractive he is. As for you, while your height was guaranteed to remain the same by now, the excess fat right below your cheekbones that you irately tugged at in your early adolescence got smoothed out, just like your mother had assured, and the bridge of your nose that you inherited from your father started to get more prominent, which he had jokingly forewarned you against when you were a kid. He made light of it by telling you that you'll be able to smell things a lot better, yet given your experiences around noxious and pungent materials that were an inherent reality of the 'authentic Hogwarts experience', you don't see how that could possibly be a good thing. Nevertheless, you were glad to be growing and accepted the changes your body was going through as best you could. Besides, the way Ominis was holding you already made you feel like you were the most gorgeous thing ever.

"How did you know it was me?" Your voice is reduced to little more than a whisper.

He opens his eyes, their corners crinkling at your sudden discretion. "I was right behind you, you know." He says matter of factly, also whispering. "I recognised your footsteps."

You chuckle softly, sliding your arm out from under his, and run your fingers through his hair. "Figured as much."

"Mhm." He arches into your touch and hums lowly, grazing his nose against your cheek with a smirk he doesn't care to hide anymore. He leans in closer, his soft breaths making your skin feel hot red. That is your cue to face him, and Ominis gladly meets your lips in the middle. You stand there for a moment, entwined in each other, swaying gently with the early autumn's wind that feels like cool lemonade, and when you finally deepen the kiss you feel him inhale sharply, his brows furrowing with intense focus. His grip on your robe gets tighter as he pulls you closer until you're flush against his body and you feel him pressing tightly against your thigh.

Ever since the incident, Ominis and Sebastian have been trying their best to mend their strained relationship, and Sebastian had been focusing on reconciling with Anne in order to make up for precious time lost after he had ironically neglected her in pursuit of cheating death for her. As such, you and Ominis ended up spending more and more time together, making up for time spent chasing after Sebastian and not around each other. After getting over the shock of the revelation that you like liked each other after your admissions of mutual affection, you started to get closer and closer. The playful glances became tentative touches, and those became bold caresses as you got older and grew more comfortable around each other. And now, it just so happened that he was pinning you against a wall.

The muffled buzzing of the bar is almost completely snuffed out as your senses centre around him and nothing else, until you barely notice that you're backed against the wall and your kisses have started to get urgent and desperate. And then Ominis breaks away from the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours as he grounds himself and tries his best to calm himself. His eyes stayed closed, like opening them would mean losing the clarity of you. You gasp at the sudden loss, swollen lips gaping pathetically. You feel dizzy, intoxicated, even, and it doesn't help that his face is only a few inches from you, yet you silently hold onto him while you wait for your head to stop spinning. He's drawing this out and you know it. A part of you appreciates it, despite it being positively excruciating.

Once you've both caught your breaths, it doesn't take long for the position you're both in to finally dawn on you, and how the steps of incoming and departing patrons seem to falter, pause, then continue hurriedly in the opposite direction as you. You thought you could even hear the cheer of a particularly tipsy patron that sounded old enough for you to avoid eye contact at all costs lest you see him in class someday. A jolt of panic shoots up your spine when you feel Ominis trembling and you worriedly turn back to check on him, but you see that his shoulders are simply shaking in silent laughter. His face is scrunched up in equal amounts of delight and embarrassment, and also the reddest you've ever seen it. It's not long until you join him as well, cupping his cheek and chuckling uncontrollably. Your laughter eventually goes up the wrong airway and turns into a massive snort, which prompts Ominis to practically start wheezing.

"Okay, okay!" You plead after you feel tears collect at the corner of your eyes. "Please. I'm about to pee myself."

Ominis can only manage to bury his face into your shoulder, shaking his head as if to convey that his efforts to stop are ultimately for naught. You are left to pat the top of his head and fix his once carefully groomed hair as you look up and wipe the tears from your eyes. This is one of the things you love most about yourself. That you can find, pluck, and bring joy wherever you go. You've found that people bloom in your presence, that your friends are not only motivated to reach their potential in terms of academic success, but in being the best they could be. The most passionately impulsive guy you've known realised he could find the peace he was desperately searching simply by slowing down and enjoying the time he has with his loved ones. The reserved guy who exercised unprecedented self-control over himself to the point of neurosis is a bubbly laughing mess in your arms.

I turned out okay after all. You smile to yourself, closing your eyes peacefully and burying your nose in Ominis' hair. Ominis, who has significantly calmed down by now, peppers your neck with kisses in return of your gesture.

"That was nice," he mutters elatedly.

"It was," you brush your thumb across his cheek, "...and we can do it again, later."

He nods and turns his head, planting a quick kiss on your thumb before standing straight, hands searching for misplaced or fuzzy strands in your hair. He finds plenty, so he starts to gently comb them out with his fingers. You also fix his tieless collar and realign his dark grey vest, and run your hands through his hair one last time to ensure it looks close to how neat it look before your make out session ruined it. He doesn't seem to mind it in the slightest.

"Perhaps not outside of the single most crowded pub in town, yes?" Ominis raises a teasing brow.

"Indeed. You're ravishing, by the way."

Ominis brows shoot up at that, almost to comical proportions, but he recovers quickly enough. He instinctively checks the collars of his shirt and smooths the front of his vest.

"You don't think the vest is a bit too much?"

"I think it's perfect. And you left out the tie so it looks relaxed enough. You look like you're just here to get a drink."

Ominis nods, satisfied. "That is my intention." He tilts his head, smiling. "And you're absolutely breathtaking."

You chuckle, shrugging with quasi-modesty. "I try."

His smile turns cheeky as he traces the side of your neck with his fingers. "Really? I didn't notice."

You sigh incredulously, shoulders raising so dramatically that it makes Ominis smirk. "Shut up before I back us up into a corner again. And this time we're not stopping."

His expression shifts at that and his hand halts at the base of your jaw. "Who said I will stop?"

"Don't, please." You say without a trace of your bratiness earlier, voice thick with desire and desparation.

Ominis freezes at your tone, his jaw tensing up as he takes a few deep breaths. You realise he's doing his utmost best to not pounce on you right there.

"Later," he manages, extricating himself from you with sheer willpower. He retrieves his wand from his pocket and mutters something as he sways it gently, seemingly fixing the appearance of his trousers.

"Later." You agree, peering into the pub momentarily. "There's a lot of people."

"I noticed. It's alright." Ominis clears his throat, looking somewhat sheepish over his apparent loss of control, but later on when he recalled this moment and your initial reaction, he would think back to it with great pride. He extends his free hand. "Shall we head inside?"

You happily take his hand, swaying them gently before resting them at your side. "Right this way, then." You step forward to open the door and a cacophony of rowdy chatter and trills of laughter bursts out in a giant tide, hitting you straight in the face like the heat of an oven when you first open its door. It's as if you turning the handle was but only a simple catalyst for this vibrant eruption, and you feel giddy at the sensation. You look over at Ominis and see that his brows are slightly furrowed due to the sudden loudness, but is too basking under the warmth. By now the Sun had already started to give in to fatigue, and blinked at the people of Hogsmeade one last time before setting to meet with them the next morning as he so promised to the Earth at the dawn of the universe. You step inside right after Ominis, tapping your feet against the magical rug that gladly gobbles up the dirt from your weary shoes.

It's not going to be the easiest job in the world; moving forward, reconciling with your restless memories, your occasional sleepless nights and your survivor's guilt. But it is going to be easier than it otherwise could have been, with your loved ones at your side. You will just have to remind and allow yourself to take it one day at a time, not only because that's the right thing to do given the traumatic circumstances you have faced at such a young age, but because that's the only thing you can do. Step slowly but surely into the future, staying together, acknowledging the importance of your combined strength to overcome whatever difficulties you might face from the past and beyond. Perhaps that is all you really need.

Ominis slips his fingers between yours, brushing his thumb over your knuckle, as if he could tell that you had gone elsewhere and wanted to remind you that he was there for you. You squeeze his hand in return.

I'm back. I'm back and I know you're here and I couldn't be happier to have you.

The tenseness in his brows completely dissipates as his expression lights up and he blinks softly at you with great affection. Sometimes you really wonder if he can hear your thoughts, or whether your boyfriend is actually a cat. You chuckle at your thoughts and nod at him, tugging your hand in the same rhythm to say you're ready to move. Ominis smiles and moves ahead as you slip inside into the centre with him, the door shutting gently behind you.

[corroded-hellfire]

So I loved your “Love Comes Walking In” fic. I read it every day! For your celebration, I was wondering if you could do like them planning a road trip, but it's all chaotic. Maybe there are elements of angst, but then it ends with fluff? I'm not sure if I'm doing this right, lol

I love your work, and I can't wait to see your future projects! Congrats on 2k followers 💕

Honestly, when I wrote the first part to this, I wasn’t sure if they were going to get together or not. So thank you for requesting this and giving me a chance to figure them out! And thank you to @munson-blurbs for all of your help 💚

In the same universe as Love Comes Walking In

Words: 6.8k

The long-awaited day had finally come and was now coming to an end. It had been a long day. Waking up at the crack of dawn just to get to school early – without forgetting your cap and gown – just to practice walking down the aisle of meticulously placed folding chairs on the football field. Of course there were some stupid people in your graduating class, but you weren’t sure they needed to actually practice their walking to a seat. 

Then the ceremony itself seemed to take forever. Outside in the hot June sunlight, sitting in a sea of students in green robes and probably not one of them paying attention to Principal Higgins drone on. Some of the students probably didn’t even listen when Nancy Wheeler went up to speak as valedictorian, but you did. And you knew all of your friends were paying attention to her as well. Her speech was eloquent, kind, and above all, full of optimism. Nancy tended to be a glass half full kind of girl and she’d even managed to rub some of that off on you. 

Robin is one of the first to walk across the stage and get her diploma. Jonathan was not too far behind her. Then the list grew boring, people you’ve known for years but never really cared that you wouldn’t see again. Jason, Chrissy, Vickie. Although you did get along well with Vickie and if she and Robin were headed in the direction you thought they were, you probably would be seeing more of the redhead. 

Then came the name of your favorite person. Someone who has waited longer than anyone else here for this moment to finally arrive. You see him sitting in the row ahead of you, unruly hair somehow tucked into the green cap. Right before his name was about to be called, he turned his head and smiled at you. He shot you a wink and it felt like it suddenly got twenty degrees warmer outside. 

“Edward Munson.”

There were cheers from the stands: hellfire buddies and Wayne. And probably your parents.  There were cheers from the students: hellfire buddies, some other friends, and you. The three-time senior bounded up on the stage and when you saw him shake Principal Higgin’s hand instead of flipping him the bird, you looked into the stands and saw Mike and Lucas exchanging money, having bet on if their Dungeon Master would actually go through with his threat or not. 

You were so caught up in watching the proud beam on his face as he took his diploma and headed back to his seat, that you almost missed your own name. Luckily, you’re snapped back to attention and stood from your seat and made your way to the stage. There were cheers for you as well. The same group from the stands, probably Steve too, and the same group among the students as well. But there was one exceptionally loud cheer that you heard above all the other noise. 

Eddie.

His vociferous shouts had you grinning from ear to ear as you accepted your diploma and headed back to your chair. Eddie caught your eye on the way and gave you another wink. It’s a good thing you weren’t wearing heels, or you definitely would have stumbled on the artificial grass. 

Things with Eddie were good. Ever since the night of prom – real prom and your own special prom – you and Eddie have been closer than ever. As touchy feely as Eddie was before, it seems to have kicked up a few notches. His hands are always on you, or his arms are always draped over you. And though things have been headed in a positive direction, it still hasn’t gone as far as you want it to. There have been no admissions of feelings, no kisses. But it seems like the two of you flirt with each other more and more every day. 

Even now, at the graduation party you’re attending at the Wheeler’s, his arm has been around the back of your chair the entire time. The sun is setting now and most everyone finished their food that Ted Wheeler barbequed on the grill. 

“You guys leaving tomorrow?” Robin asks and takes a sip of her soda.

“Bright and early,” you confirm. 

“Now, where are you going?” Steve asks. He leans in on the table, forearms bearing the weight. 

“Not sure,” Eddie says with a shrug. “Plan is to drive east until we hit the ocean. After that? Who knows.”

“In the bucket of bolts?” Robin asks, raising her eyebrows. 

“Good thing I’ll have a mechanic with me,” you say, nodding your head at Eddie. 

“How long will you be gone?” Nancy asks.

“Depends where we go,” Eddie says. “We’re planning on two to four weeks, though.”

“You’re going to come back either married or hating each other,” Vickie says. 

“Could be both,” Steve says. “My parents are both.”

“And on that happy note,” Eddie says. “I should get going. Gotta finish packing and get some sleep. Am I dropping you off?”

“Yes, please,” you say. 

Hugs are given and goodbyes are said before you and Eddie head out to his van so he can take you home. 

The first thought that runs through your head when your alarm wakes you up is I am not in school anymore, why the hell am I getting up this early? But then you remember why, and it gives you the boost of energy you need to get out of bed. Weeks out on the road alone with Eddie? The perfect way to kick off the summer, in your opinion. 

You had packed your bag the night before so all you had to do now was throw on some clothes, put your hair up in a messy bun, and kiss your parents goodbye before bounding down the driveway to Eddie’s van. He throws the back door open, and your stomach does a somersault as you see the thin air mattress that the two of you will be sharing for the foreseeable future. Both of you had reasoned was there was no reason to spend hundreds if not thousands of dollars staying at motels or hotels on your trip when there was more than enough room for both of you to sleep in the back of the van. You definitely had an ulterior motive though, becoming giddy just at the thought of laying pressed up against Eddie every night. 

Eddie tosses your bag in the back with his before helping you up into the passenger’s seat like the gentleman he is. The two of you had been looking forward to this trip for weeks, and in the meantime, Eddie had been making mixtapes of what he deemed the best road trip music. Whether or not you agree is still up for debate. 

With no set destination in mind, Eddie pulls onto the highway that’s headed east and the van drives towards the rising sun. 

“Is there a particular beach you wanted to go to?” Eddie asks once you’ve been driving for a few hours.

“As long as I can see the Atlantic Ocean, I don’t care,” you say. Neither of you has ever seen the ocean before, so going to a beach was the main thing you wanted to accomplish on this trip. Well, the main thing you and Eddie had discussed, anyway. You were hoping to finally figure out if Eddie actually had feelings for you or not. If being crammed together in the same van for almost a month together didn’t get you some answers, you doubt you’d ever get them. 

“What do you want for lunch?” Eddie asks.

“You hungry already? It’s just after noon.” “Hey, I am a growing boy, thank you very much.”

You huff a laugh and roll your eyes. “You’re almost twenty-one, Eddie, don’t you think you’ve stopped growing yet?”

Before the question even finished coming out of your mouth, before you saw his eyebrow quirk and the mischievous smirk grow on his face, you knew the dirty joke was coming. 

“What can I say? I’m a grower, not a show-er.”

In the past, you would’ve just laughed or groaned at one of his many jokes about his anatomy. But now that you’ve been flirting more and more with one another, you feel emboldened to make a joke in return. 

“That’s what all guys with small dicks say.”

Eddie almost swerves the van off the road, jaw dropping open in surprise. “I’m gonna make you fucking walk!”

“Alright,” you say with a shrug of your shoulders. “This was fun. See ya later.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and Eddie makes a complete one-eighty.

“No!” he whines. He reaches over for you and secures his fingers around your wrist. “Don’t leave me! I swear, I shall make it up to you somehow. Let me prove myself.”

Keeping a faux haughty attitude, you re-buckle your seatbelt and yank your wrist from Eddie’s grip, crossing your arms over your chest.

“How will thee prove thyself?”

“I will slay any dragon we come upon this journey.”

“So, if we go in the ocean and there’s a shark…”

“That is not a dragon.”

You huff out a laugh as you lounge as far back in the seat as you can. When you close your eyes, Eddie reaches over and smacks your thigh a couple of times.

“Ow?”

“Wake up, I’m still hungry. What do you want?”

Eddie’s in a considerably better mood once he’s got a burger and some curly fries in him. You’d stopped somewhere in Ohio at a little burger shack right off the interstate. There was a nice breeze coming off the nearby lake, so you decided to enjoy the fresh outdoor air and eat at a picnic table. It beat the stale, smokey, boyish odor in the van. As gross as it was, you’d come to like the smell because it reminds you of Eddie. But it’s also nice to give your lungs a rest. 

Both of you feel a little stiff as you get back in the van, muscles tight from sitting so long on the drive. Eddie begrudgingly lets you pick the next cassette to pop in and you came prepared for this exact scenario. Just behind your seat is your purse, and you scramble your arm back to get it. The sound of plastic cases clicking together fills the van as you plop the bag down in your lap. Rifling through your collection of tapes, you think how Eddie would feel about each of them. This early you feel you should still be somewhat nice to him with your choice of music. Because if you pop in Madonna now there’s nowhere to go but down if he pisses you off later. 

Selecting the perfect one, you snap open the case and pull the cassette out. Eddie cranes his neck to try and see what you’re putting in, but you remind him to keep his eyes on the road. Making sure to put the correct side up, you slip the cassette into the player. A crash of glass sounds from the speakers before the opening notes.

Friday night I crashed your party

Saturday I said, "I'm sorry"

Sunday came and trashed me out again

“Okay,” Eddie says with a sigh. “Could’ve been a lot worse. I can deal with Billy Joel.” 

Giving him a triumphant smile, you begin to sing along and dance the best you can in the confines of the seat and seatbelt. 

I was only having fun

Wasn't hurting anyone

And we all enjoyed the weekend for a change

Eddie’s thumbs are tapping the beat along the steering wheel, smiling over at you every once and a while as you bop around to the song. 

People had tried to warn you that a road trip sounds fun in theory, but sitting in the car for hours could make you go crazy. And maybe it’s only the first day, but you’re enjoying this time with Eddie. Time to sing along to the music together, time to talk about the stupidest shit that nobody would understand but the two of you. 

“Oh, shit. Look!” Eddie says as a Billy Joel tune fades out.

“What?” you ask, looking out the front windshield, trying to figure out what’s got him so excited. 

“That sign said Kecksburg,” Eddie says, like this should mean something to you. 

“What’s a Kecksburg?” you ask.

“Seriously? What kind of nerd are you?” Eddie asks as he checks his mirrors to move over to the right lane. “Kecksburg, Pennsylvania. In 1965 there were reports of a UFO and then the army came and took something away.”

You look at him incredulously. This he could remember. But when you were tutoring him for Mrs. O’Donnell’s class, he couldn’t even remember the right decade the revolutionary war happened in? 

“How did you finally pass history?” you ask him.

“Hey,” he pouts. “If there were aliens on the Mayflower, I would’ve listened.”

“I assume we’re going to this Kerkburg?” you ask as Eddie takes the exit off of I-70. 

“Kecksburg,” he corrects you. “And yes!” 

“Tell me the name of the first secretary of treasury in the US and I won’t complain at all at this UFO thing,” you say. You raise an eyebrow at him in challenge. 

Eddie chews on his bottom lip as he maneuvers the van around the world’s slowest Chevy Impala in front of you. When you come to a red light, he starts to drum his fingers on the steering wheel as he thinks, the beat sounding rather close to It's Still Rock and Roll to Me by Billy Joel.

“Wait, shit, I know this!” A grin splits Eddie’s face and the sight makes your tummy go all fuzzy like you inhaled a few chutes of champagne. “Alexander Hamilton!”

You nod your head, impressed by his correct response. Eddie wasn’t stupid – something you have to remind him of often – he just didn’t care enough to memorize some things.

“I have to concede,” you say. “I am impressed, Mr. Munson. Usually no one knows that dude; I think he’s getting lost in history.” 

“Wanna know how I know?” Eddie’s smirking now.

“Of course.”

“He’s on the ten-dollar bill,” Eddie says. “Most common bill I get at deals.”

The giggle that escapes you didn’t even give you a chance to hold it inside. 

“You just stare at money, huh?” you ask. 

“Best thing to look at besides girls and the D&D board.” Eddie’s van puffs out a loud and dark plume of smoke, which would make you concerned if you didn’t see it happen on an almost daily basis.

“I can honestly say I don’t think I’ve stared at any of those things,” you say. 

“Okay, boys in your case,” Eddie says.

“Do I stare at them often?” you ask with a laugh.

“You stare at me,” Eddie says, a self-satisfied smirk creeping onto his handsome features.

“You probably had another pretzel in your hair or something.” The excuse is the flimsiest, and you know that, but your heating cheeks had you scrambling for something to say.

“Eh, I stare at you too,” Eddie says with a shrug. It seems like the most casual thing in the world to him; to just come out and say he looks at you a lot. 

That’s the end of the conversation though, because Eddie parks the van in front of a sign that advertises a tourist trap appealing to those interested in aliens. And your crush certainly fits the bill.

Keeping true to your word, you don’t complain the entire time you’re there. You listen to story after story about that December night in 1965 when the UFO was spotted. You learn it looked like an acorn with some hieroglyphics at the bottom of it. But mostly you watch Eddie. He’s transfixed by the stories, staring wide eyed, taking in every detail the volunteers give him. The wonder in his eyes gives you a glimpse of what he must’ve been like as a child. Innocent, pure, curious. 

It’s dark out when you’ve finished touring the small part of town dedicated to the unexplained phenomenon. Eddie’s giddy as you walk back to the van, hands in his pockets and a pep in his step as he goes to open the passenger door for you.

“Wasn’t that cool?” Eddie asks as he jams his key into the ignition.

“Yeah,” you say, not entirely lying. Some of it was pretty cool. “You believe it?”

“Hell yes,” Eddie says as he pulls out of the parking spot. “I think it’s pretty narcissistic to think we’re the only beings who exist.”

He pulls back onto I-70 and says to look out for places to grab dinner. A few miles down the road you see a billboard for a diner, so Eddie takes that exit. Neither of you are sure what you want to order, so you end up ordering three different appetizers and sharing them along with milkshakes: vanilla for you, chocolate for Eddie.

It’s a cute little diner. The 50’a theme is bright and shiny and the waitstaff have been nice. The sky-blue walls and the cold, vibrant red booths are enough to keep you from the sleepy feeling you’ve been fighting since you arrived. 

“Wanna call it quits for the night?” Eddie asks, munching on a fry. “Find the next rest stop and park there?”

“Uh huh.” You’re cut off by your own yawn and you rub at your tired eyes.

The next rest stop is seventeen miles away and as soon as Eddie finds a spot to park for the night, you’re both out of the cab and stretching out your sore limbs. You grab his and your toiletry bags, tossing his to him as you walk towards the building. He goes into the men’s room and you into the women’s. It’s weird brushing your teeth in a public restroom, but it’s life on the road. 

Once you’re both done and ready for bed, you feel the butterflies waking up. This is the part you’ve been looking forward to the most. Screw the beach, you want to lay with Eddie. You get back to the van and Eddie holds open the back door for you.

“Ladies first,” he says with a dramatic bow.

“Make sure to keep an eye out for dragons,” you say as he closes the door behind you, giving you privacy to change into your pajamas. You switch roles and wait patiently outside while Eddie undresses. When he’s finished, you’re stuck to your spot on the asphalt as you see him wearing only a pair of plaid green pajama bottoms, hung low on his hips. It’s not like you’ve never seen him shirtless before; of course you have. But that doesn’t make it any less breathtaking to see. Plus, you get to curl up to him like that. You’re pretty sure winning the lottery wouldn’t even make you this excited. 

Eddie offers his hand to you and helps you back in. He closes and locks the door and the two of you are immersed in darkness. Eddie flicks on a flashlight so the two of you are able to get situated on the air mattress. Your bags are stuffed around the small available space in the back, and you pull a blanket out of yours. Eddie came prepared with the pillows, so it was only fair you brought the covers. 

Scooting yourself so you’re closer to Eddie, you drape the fuzzy blue blanket on the top of you both. Eddie lays back against his pillow and you follow his lead. Shoulder pressed to shoulder, you can feel his body heat through the thin material of your oversized t-shirt. 

“Want me to turn the light out?” Eddie asks. 

“Yes, please.”

You’re both plunged back into the blackness, eyes trying to adjust as you search for each other’s faces, only inches apart. Eddie’s hand sets out to find yours and when he links your fingers together you feel like you’re going to pop out of your skin with so much giddiness being pumped into your system. 

Eddie turns on his side and you copy his actions, coming face to face with him. Part of you hates that it’s dark because you can’t see all the adorably sexy freckles that dust over his nose and up to the apple of his cheeks. But part of you is happy for the darkness because it’s harder for Eddie to tell you’re blushing as he stares into your eyes.

“You comfortable?” he asks.

“Very.”

“Too warm? Too cold?”

“Just right. Just call me Goldilocks,” you say.

He chuckles and presses his nose up against yours. It feels so natural, even though you’re pretty sure your faces have never been this close before. 

“Sleepy?” Eddie asks.

“Just a little. Was a good day, though.”

Eddie hums in reply, his eyes drifting closed. Using a boldness that you didn’t know was inside of you, you lean forward and tuck your head under Eddie’s chin. By the way his muscles move against your head you can tell he’s smiling. That makes you smile in return, but you feel even more of a thrill when he wraps his arms around you, holding you against his bare chest. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Eddie mumbles above you, already sounding half asleep.

“Goodnight, Eddie.” 

Waking up in Eddie’s arms is instantly your favorite thing in the world. Forget music and kittens and books. Starting the day with your head on Eddie’s naked chest, arms wrapped around one another? Nothing could possibly beat that. 

You’re awake before him so you just stay where you are, ear pressed right over his heart so you can hear every pump of the ventricle. It’s a comfortable temperature in the van, and Eddie’s warm skin against you has you curling into him.

As you lay there with him, your eyes slipping closed as you trace a finger over his ribs, Eddie’s stomach makes a loud grumble. You’re unable to contain your giggles as the sound echoes through your head where it rests on his body. The shaking of your shoulders as you laugh wakes Eddie up, his hand coming up to rub at his eyes. 

“Wha’s so funny?” he asks, voice still raspy from sleep. 

“Hungry?” you ask.

“Yeah. Why’s that funny?” 

You turn your head so your chin is resting gently on his sternum, looking up into his dark sleepy eyes. His hair is all mussed and the cuteness of it makes your heart swell.

“Your tummy’s rumbling,” you say. “S’pretty loud.”

Another growl booms through his abdomen and you can’t help but giggle again, your head falling forward to bury in his chest. Eddie splays one of his big hands over the top of your head and lifts it up. 

“I gotta pee, too,” he says. “So, get your ass off me.”

Instead of doing as he says, you do exactly what he would do to you if the situation was reversed. You push yourself up, swing one leg over his body, and sit on his lower abdomen, putting pressure on his bladder. There’s a brush of something hard against your ass but you do both of you a favor by ignoring it. 

“You bitch,” Eddie groans, making you laugh. He wraps an arm around your waist and flips the two of you so that you’re pinned beneath him on the air mattress. This way, you feel that something hard against your leg, and your attention is divided between that and the fact that Eddie’s face is only inches above yours. There’s a fluttering in your own stomach as Eddie’s eyes dip down to your lips before looking back to your eyes. 

“D-Don’t you have to pee?” you ask. Eddie keeps staring at you for a moment before his eyes break away and he nods.

“You’re lucky,” he says in a mock threatening tone, and he climbs off of your body.

While Eddie takes his clothes into the rest stop bathroom to get ready for the day, you change in the back of the van, your heart racing at the memory of how close the two of you were. Mind wandering, you think about the hardness pressed up against you, how you could have easily reached down and –

“Decent in there?” Eddie calls, banging on the back door of the van.

“Uh, yeah,” you call back. The door opens on squeaky hinges as you shove your pajamas back into your bag, clearing your throat and trying to shake the memory from the front of your mind.

“You gotta go?” Eddie asks as he packs his own things up.

“Nope.”

“You sure?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you. “I don’t want to stop in a little while because you have to pee.”

“Please,” you say with a scoff. “I’m not a child.”

Eddie rolls his eyes endearingly at you as he hops out of the back of the van, offering a hand to help you out as well. “Alright, let’s go. We’re heading to a gas station ‘cause I need to fill up. And grab a breakfast burrito.”

“Oh, that sounds good. I’ll go in and grab them while you pump the gas,” you say as you get into the passenger’s seat. 

“Deal.”

The breakfast burritos are surprisingly good as you travel further East down the interstate. There’s not a whole lot of traffic this morning, which is good since Eddie is only driving with one hand, eating his food with the other. Some cheese drips onto his shirt, but that’s not surprising. 

About two and a half hours into the drive – and a whole Metallica cassette later – you start to squirm in your seat and Eddie glances at you out of the corner of his eye. 

“Christ, you have to pee, don’t you?” he asks.

“Okay, it’s been like three hours!” you say, making Eddie roll his eyes.

“There’s a rest stop in twenty-six miles,” Eddie says, nodding to a sign you’re passing. “Can you wait that long?”

“Yeah, Dad,” you huff. 

“Don’t try and get sexy with me,” Eddie says, making you laugh. You shoot your arm out and smack him on the arm.

“Don’t make me laugh or I won’t make it!”

“I swear to God, I will pull over and make you go in the trees,” Eddie says.

“I can hold it!”

“You better.”

The van doesn’t even come to a complete stop and you’re unbuckling your seatbelt, moving to unlock the door. You can hear Eddie chuckling under his breath as you both get out, and you look back over your shoulder as you speed walk towards the bathrooms to see Eddie pulling a cigarette out of his pack and taking the pause in the drive to stretch his legs out. 

Of course, the bathroom was out of paper towels so you’re wiping your hands on your shorts as you head back out to the van. Your sneakers skid to a stop once you reach the sidewalk, though. Eddie’s leaning against the van, arms crossed over his chest, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. There’s a girl standing in front of him, blonde wavy hair hanging over her petite shoulders, a pretty blue sundress blowing in the slight breeze. She’s giggling and reaches up to touch Eddie’s arm. Despite it being around ninety degrees outside, the blood in your veins turns to ice. Every moment between you and Eddie since prom suddenly seems meaningless. All the feelings you thought he might’ve had for you shrivel up and die in the heat of the June afternoon. It feels worse than heartbreak, it feels hollow, as if there’s no longer a heart in your chest to break. 

Watching as Eddie ducks his head and looks up at the cute girl through his dark eyelashes, it’s a struggle to keep the breakfast burrito down. You realize you’re frozen to your spot, people darting around you as they try to get to the bathrooms or vending machines in the small rest area. Unwillingly, you take a few steps closer to the van, determined to walk around the other side of it so you don’t have to be spotted. As you get closer, you notice the girl’s large blue eyes and you can’t help but draw a comparison to the sweet cheerleader you used to be painfully jealous of. 

“I’ve never been to Indiana,” the girl is saying in her syrupy sweet voice as you make your way between the van and the black Honda next to it. 

“It’s nothing special,” you hear Eddie say. “This is my first time in Pennsylvania, but I have to say I’m really enjoying it so far.”

The temptation to keep walking past the van and straight into the woods beyond is strong. That way you don’t have to get into the van with Eddie after this disgustingly painful exchange you’re hearing. 

“Are you staying here long?” the girl asks.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Eddie says. “But plans can change.”

That’s your breaking point. You yank open the passenger side door and climb inside, making sure to slam it behind you as hard as you physically can. The reverberation causes Eddie to stumble forward a few steps, his arms flailing as he tries not to fall flat on his face. What a pity that would be, you think to yourself. He turns his head over his shoulder towards you but you’re not looking in his direction to see if he’s glaring or looking at you in confusion. Doesn’t matter. The voices are only a rumble from where you’re sitting but you assume they’re saying goodbye since Eddie opens his door and climbs inside.

“What was that?” Eddie asks. “Forget your own strength, She-Hulk?”

“Sure,” you grumble as you buckle your seatbelt. 

Eddie raises an eyebrow at you before he puts the van in reverse and pulls it out of the parking spot. As he drives away, you catch a glimpse of the girl he was flirting with watching the van and you fight the strong urge to give her the middle finger. Instead, you cross your arms tightly across your chest. 

“Something happen in the bathroom?” Eddie asks as he pulls back onto the highway. 

“No,” you say, staring out the passenger window.

He’s silent for a few minutes before trying again. “You gonna tell me what’s wrong or am I going to have to guess?”

There’s no point in fuming in silence. You’re going to be stuck with one another for a few weeks so what good would it do to hold the anger inside?

Licking over your lips, you turn to face him and let your hands fall back into your lap with a loud slap of skin hitting skin. “You were flirting.”

Eddie’s eyes dart to you before focusing back on the road. A confused expression comes to his face and for some reason, you want to smack it off him. 

“And?” he asks. 

Fury bubbles up in you so high that you’re surprised flames aren’t shooting out of your mouth like the wyvern tattooed on Eddie’s tricep. 

“And? And? Are you fucking serious, Eddie?”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie says, voice lifting to reach your volume. “What’s your problem?”

“Just can’t help yourself, huh? Can’t let a pretty girl walk by without saying hi, right?” The response you’re hoping for is that you’re a pretty girl, but of course, that thought doesn’t go through his head. 

“Okay, she came up to me,” Eddie says. “But that’s beside the fucking point. Why am I not allowed to flirt? We’re not dating. You can flirt with whoever the hell you want, too!”

“Yeah, Eddie,” you say with a scoff. “I was really going to chat up the seventy-year-old who smelled like gasoline and beef jerky that was eyeing me on my way back from the bathroom.” 

Eddie’s hands tighten on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white and his rings digging harshly into his skin. “Why are you so fucking pissed off, huh? You’re acting like you’re my girlfriend.”

The tears that fill your eyes feel like a betrayal of your own body. You’re thankful Eddie can’t look at you fully as the water keeps building, the dam of your bottom lids barely enough to keep it back. 

“And that would be such a tragedy, right?” You unbuckle your seatbelt and Eddie turns his neck to quickly look at you, shifting in his seat as he looks back to the road. 

“What the hell are you doing?” he asks, a touch of panic in his voice.

“Oh, calm the fuck down,” you tell him as you rise from your seat and push yourself into the back of the van. You curl up against the back of the passenger’s seat, tucking your legs up to your chest and resting your forehead on your knees. Here, the tears can leak out and you can still keep a shred of dignity. You tuck your arms around your legs tightly in your best attempt to keep your shoulders from shaking as the tears come heavier and harder. 

Eddie remains silent from the front seat, and you wouldn’t even care if he turned around and brought the van back to Hawkins. The road bumps along under the tires and you’re jostled as you let the pain drip down your face. Did Eddie really think it would be so bad if you were his girlfriend? Was all the flirting and amped-up touching all in your mind these last few weeks?

You stay back there, the both of you silent, for two hours. Eddie turned on the radio at one point, and the staticky stations coming in and out were the only sounds in the hollow van rumbling along the interstate. When you start to shift from side to side in your spot behind the seat, you assume Eddie has pulled off the highway and is now taking smaller roads. The van eventually comes to a halt and your body jerks up against the passenger seat at your back. 

Eddie kills the ignition and hops out of the van. Your head perks up and you crane your neck to try and see where he’s going, but he’s moved out of sight. The back doors swing open, making you jump and twist your head, squinting at the bright light that’s streaming in. Eddie standing there, framed by the doors of the van before he hops in and crawls his way over to sit across from you. He gently reaches over and rests a hand on your knee. 

“Come on,” he says in a soft voice. “Talk to me.”

Avoiding his eyes, you shrug your shoulders. He sighs when you remain silent. 

“Sweetheart, please talk to me.” Eddie’s almost pleading as he tilts his head to the side. When you shake your head, he scoots until he’s sitting next to you and wraps an arm around your shoulders. “I’m not going away. I’ll keep being an annoying thorn in your side.”

“So, like always?” you mumble under your breath, making Eddie huff a laugh. 

“Alright, come on,” Eddie says, shaking your shoulders gently. “Tell me the truth. What’s going on?”

Releasing the tension of the last few hours in a sigh, you lean your head on Eddie’s shoulder and squeeze your eyes closed. Though the tension is released from your muscles, a thick ball of anxiety settles in your stomach. There’s no avoiding it anymore. It’s time to come fully clean about everything. Your feelings, your jealousy, all of it. But before you do, the question that’s been burning a hole in your tongue comes out.

“Have things been different between us since prom?”

Eddie’s arm tenses around your shoulder and you brace for the worst. “What do you mean?” he asks.

“I just feel like something changed since we had our own prom. Am I wrong?”

“No,” Eddie says with a sigh, and the sigh makes your stomach drop to the floor of the van. “I wasn’t sure if you felt it, too, though.”

You pick your head up from Eddie’s shoulder, whipping it to the side to look at him. “What? Why not?”

Eddie shrugs and takes his arm from around your shoulders, resting both of his hands in his lap. “I don’t know. I guess that you didn’t act any different towards me, so I thought it was all in my head.”

“Eddie,” you say with a frown. “I didn’t act any different because nothing about the way I felt changed.” Eddie nods and you realize he thinks you mean that you didn’t acquire feelings for him. “No, no, Eddie. I mean nothing changed because I…because I already felt that way about you.”

His head snaps up to look at you, a crease line between his brows. “What way?”

The heat of the summer day has nothing to do with the flush that comes over your body, settling primarily in your face.

“That I, um, well, that I lo–.”

“I love you, too.” 

Shock was not something you were accustomed to feeling, but it’s the only word you can put to the feeling that runs through your veins. Your wide eyes are staring deep into Eddie’s brown ones, the pair of you staring at one another as you sit in the warming back of the van. 

“You what?” Your voice sounds small, even to your ears. 

“That’s what you were going to say, right?” Eddie asks. “I mean, saying I have a crush on you seems too weak for what I feel, so I know it’s love. E-Even if that’s not what you were going to say…”

“No, it is!” you hurry to assure him. “I love you. I love you so much.”

The grin on Eddie’s face makes you feel like all the fighting and all the times your heart ached over him were worth it. His face lights up and without a doubt, it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 

“I love you, too,” he says again. Your heart rate ticks up when Eddie’s eyes dip down to your lips, and just as he’s about to lean in, a flapping at the opening of the van scares you, making you grip Eddie’s shirt.

A seagull landed right on the bumper, tilting its head as it looks at you and Eddie huddled up together. It’s only when you take in the bird before you that you hear the cries of other seagulls and the crashing of waves on the shore. Inhaling, the scent of saltwater greets your nose, and your mouth curves into a smile.

“We’re at the beach?” you ask.

“We are,” Eddie confirms with a smile. “Would you like to get out and see the ocean for the first time?” He scoots towards the back doors, the seagull flying off when he gets too close for comfort, then holds his hand out for you. Once he’s helped you out, Eddie still doesn’t let go of your hand. He laces his fingers with yours as you walk around the van, the large blue expanse of the Atlantic Ocean coming into view. 

It’s breathtaking. It didn’t seem logical that there was something this big in the world. Eddie wraps his arm around your waist and tugs you against his side as you both stare in awe. The afternoon sun was overhead, casting the shadows of your two bodies on the sand just feet away from you, at the edge of the parking lot. 

“Wanna go put our feet in?” Eddie asks and you immediately nod in agreement. Both of you kick off your socks and shoes, throwing them in the back of the van before Eddie closes the doors. The sand is hot between your toes, which has you hopping down towards the water, Eddie laughing alongside you as he does the same. The sharp contrast of the hot sand to the cold ocean water makes you let out a squeal and grab onto Eddie’s arm. He grins and steadies you in his grip.

“Well, we did it,” he says. “We’ve been in the ocean.” 

“Alright, back to Hawkins,” you say.

“Yep,” Eddie says with a chuckle. “That’s all we wanted.”

A wave rushes the shore, water breaking against your shins, making you giggle. Droplets splash up, coldness dotting the bottoms of your thighs and Eddie’s shorts. The warmth of Eddie’s fingers grips your chin and turns your head to face him. You look up at him questioningly right before he leans in and presses his lips against yours. The kiss is gentle, sweet, and not even the cold water of the ocean can quell the heat that burns through your body. A giddy giggle escapes you when you part, Eddie giving you an adoring smile.

“I could stay here forever,” Eddie says.

“Yeah?” you ask. “I could stay here until it’s time for bed. Cause then I get to cuddle up next to you.”

Eddie lets out an overdramatic yawn, making you laugh.

“You know,” he says. “I think I’m getting pretty sleepy myself.”

Another wave rolls in, crashing hard against your legs and splashing you both all the way up to your faces, cold droplets pelting you.

“Well, that woke me up.”

[straightupsickfics]

Are you still accepting fall sickfic prompts? Because I just happened to come across the prompt list and was wondering if you'd be interested in writing a fic for Stede and Ed with prompts 14. Chilly evenings, 16. Holding hands, and 26. Flushed cheeks? :)

ahhh these are so cute for them! a tiny, modern au fall ficlet <3

****

"Are you scared?"

Ed's voice so close to his ear makes Stede jump higher than he'd care to admit, but he shakes his head, turning to meet Ed's eye.

"No, are you? This isn't a haunted thing, is it?" Stede asks, looking around at the farm they're currently making their way across. They're going on a zombie paintball hayride, which is... not exactly the way Stede would normally spend a Friday night, but Ed had made the plans with his friends, Fang and Ivan, and he'd been so excited when he surprised Stede with a ticket, it wasn't like he could say no.

No one he'd dated in the past had had much interest in having Stede meet their friends, and Stede knows how much Fang and Ivan mean to Ed, so of course, of course he wouldn't say no. Not when things were going so well with Ed so far.

Even if it meant being outside in the chilly, early October evening, the sun setting rapidly around them. Even if the weather is making his nose run something fierce. Stede thinks about the little travel packet of tissues in his pocket, already dwindling down to nothing, and tries to sniffle discreetly.

"Nah, not haunted," Ed confirms beside him. He reaches down and takes Stede's hand in his, and it's amazing, really, how much warmer it is compared to Stede's own. He relishes it—the warmth and the closeness both—and gives Ed's hand a little squeeze.

That's the other thing about Ed, he's so easily affectionate, always putting a hand on Stede's shoulder, or holding his hand, or wrapping an arm around his waist while they walk, Stede thinks he might never get used to it.

"Still," Ed continues, "kinda creepy, out here at night. Never know when someone might pop out and say BOO!"

Stede jumps again, despite himself, then swats at Ed.

"Stop that, you nut!"

Ed grins at him. "Sorry, mate," he says, leaning over and pressing a kiss to the corner of Stede's mouth. "Y'look cute when you're all..." He trails off, scrunching up his face in what Stede assumes is supposed to be an approximation of his own face, and he can't help but laugh.

"I don't do that!"

"Sure do," Ed tells him, tugging Stede's hand until he's pulled flush beside him, slowing their pace until they're a good few feet behind the others in their group. Ed kisses him again, the cold tip of his own nose pressing against Stede's, and as sweet as it is, Stede has to pull away to sniffle against the sudden urge to sneeze.

"Oh, h-hang on..." Stede warns, turning away to cover his mouth and nose. The only problem is that in his haste, Stede brings their still joined hands to his face and just barely manages to stifle two quick sneezes against his wrist, no doubt getting Ed's in the process.

"hh'mpptshh! Hh'ngtsh! God, sorry, I didn't m'bean..." Stede sniffles a few times and lets go of Ed's hand, digging in his pocket for a tissue, face flushing pink.

"Bless you!" Ed says, like nothing happened. He looks at the tissues and then back at Stede. "All good? You're not getting sick are you?"

He nudges Stede's arm with his elbow when Stede takes a beat to long to answer. "Aww, Stede! Y'should've told me! I'd have never dragged you out to fuck around in a field of fake zombies if you're sick."

"I wanted to meet your friends," Stede explains, sniffling again. "And you were so excited," he adds.

"Always excited to see you," Ed tells him, taking Stede's hand in his again and bumping their hips together. "Would've been just as happy to see you if it meant spending the night on your couch."

"Really?" Stede asks. It's probably too late for that now, they're here anyway, the tickets claimed, their hands stamped, the zombies awaiting. And he's not really sick, not yet anyway, though tomorrow is another story, he knows. But still, it's nice to know.

"Really," Ed promises. He lifts their hands and kisses Stede's wrist. "If the zombies don't eat us tonight, I promise I'll make it up to you this weekend with soup. And tissues. And a million of those documentaries you love."

Stede's face is warmer than ever now, and it has nothing to do with the weather or his oncoming cold.

"It's a lot of documentaries," Stede warns. "Haven't even told you about the new series I found..."

"You don't scare me, Bonnet." Ed smiles like he really can't wait to find out more. "It's a date," he says.

[intcritus]

And water would shift as the architect guided the captain's bare body closer to his own, the tub just about big enough for the two to share back at the little studio of his. Outside one of the many rain-filled days of Sumeru washed over them, a small window open to allow the slightly colder draft to pass on through the steamy bathroom. Drops would hammer delicately on top of the roof, Kaveh's arms dipping into the water and around's Kaeya's waist as he, with gentle kisses pressed against damp neck, would encourage him to lean back into his embrace. There'd be no commissions, or missions, today.

"I should've tied your hair up better," Kaveh chuckled gently against the back of Kaeya's neck, allow lips to leave a trace of kisses up against the shell of his ear. Darker strands escaped from the knot he had helped the other with, some braids and borrowed pins attempting their best to hold back the longer locks. "I'm mostly used to doing my own, not someone else's ... If you'd like me to wash it later, I can."

More so of an excuse to invade Kaeya's personal space, Kaveh would gently come to hook onto one of the captain's hands, fingers sliding in between knuckles as he'd bring their hands on top of the edge of the tub, thumb caressing Kaeya's own slowly. As warm as the water might've been, there was something even warmer about the way their hands fit so neatly together, a sight that nurtured forth a loving, smitten smile on the architect's features there'd tilt their hands back and forth with subtle movements. He had held many hands, truly, but none that felt as right in between his own fingers as Kaeya.

It was a happy sight, yet a curious one.

Kaveh knew how many hands he had held, perhaps not as lovingly as Kaeya's, but he knew. He was also aware of how many times his heart had felt the slight tingle of affection, though nowhere near as strong as it'd blaze around him. But, how many had his hand held?

A coy smile crept forth, Kaveh leaning his cheek against Kaeya's temple as soon his body would rest against his own. "Have you had many lovers ? I'm asking out of curiosity ... You seem so well-adapted to the pursuit of someone's heart, I can't help but to wonder..." not a tinge of uncertainty, simply an architect being nosy. "You don't have to share the details, of course..."

Voice, however, lowered, maroon eyes turning to Kaeya's chest whereas lips settled for a whipser by his ear; " ... surely I've already outdone them by now."

Kaeya will be the first to admit, that Kaveh is the first person he’s ever shared a bath with before. To be bare like this, it’s intimate and vulnerable in a way that no one has had with him. There’s a rhyme and reason for that, but mostly the Captain never wants to get that close to anyone. Sex was one thing, intimacy ? That’s a whole other game that he had never wanted for himself until it came to Kaveh. It’s easy to feel loved, cared for and hopelessly spoiled when one considers the many firsts he’s had with Kaveh. And being spoiled – accepting being spoiled is new. His mind wants to protests but he utterly melts because it’s Kaveh doing so. 

And this is how he finds himself, in a bath, leaning back against his lover with a small, pleasured hum in his throat. There’s no thoughts of missions, or requests or anything outside this bath tub, becoming nothing more than lax limbs and a headful of adoring thoughts. ❝ ━ I would love if you washed it actually. ❞ Fingers in his hair, against his scalp with his lover close enough that he could touch him ? Oh yeah, Kaeya is all about that.

Then again, when it came to Kaveh, he was always going to say yes. A helpless kind of abandon that asks for nothing but his time. Languid gaze settles on the way their hands fit together, the finger brushes over his knuckles so tenderly and it makes his heart trip over itself.

❝ ━ Mm. ❞ A curious round of inquiries, one he would normally avoid with clever wording but it’s easy to be honest in this instance. He shifts, nuzzling his nose into Kaveh’s cheek, bringing their hands to his chest, resting over his heart. ❝ ━ Not many honestly.  Only three. I find myself not getting into a romantic mood with people I can’t open up to. Some things are a first for me. Sex is one thing, it's what's expected, but the elderly couples in Mondstat are who I learned from. Their love, so out in the open, so unconditional is something I had always craved. ❞ 

To be so open to holding someone’s hand,loving them, to stroll and laugh with them. Maybe that old school type of love is something he’d been striving for, and he was able to use that to woo the person he wanted. ❝ ━ With you, I feel like I was stumbling like a fawn, trying to give you bits and pieces of me, wondering if you would want me as I wanted you or if you’d be turned off by my dramatics. ❞

At the words whispered against his ear, his heart stops, a dark blush flushing high on his cheeks. What in the world ? Why did this cheeky architect do something so dangerous ? Did he know how much havoc he wreaked against his heart? Lashes dip shut over his gaze, grin threatening to split his features as warm, husky laughter escapes him. ❝ ━ Oh, my my, Kaveh. You’re the only one who's managed to capture my heart and soul. There’s never going to be anyone after you since you’ve become the one I orbit around. ❞ 

He sobers up though, wanting his cheeky architect to know how serious he is. Bringing their joined hands to his mouth, lips brush over kuckles then turn them over to kiss palms. ❝ ━ You hold my heart in your hands, Kaveh. I've told you things no one knows about, not even my brother. Everything you know about me is laid bare before you. I've never trusted someone like I trust you. And I've never cared for someone in the depths I do for you. So trust me when I say, you've surpassed anyone who would've ever dared try.❞

in which, kaveh is his first and only love. | @avaere

[ask-cinnavanillamelody]

So I wanna vent, about something really quick, and then we'll go back to our regularly scheduled programming.

I like, hate. College. I hate it, I hate the premise, I hate that they're bleeding me for money, but most of all I hate the people. If I could do college with 5 other people and we all had our own rooms I think I'd like it more. It started snowing today, and the campus is covered in snow. And if you know anything about me, I hate the cold. I hate being cold, I hate being outside in the cold. Because when it's cold, it's guaranteed I'll probably get sick. I'll get chills, the flu, a cold, something.

I wanted to go to a college in North Carolina, but they didn't accept me for an art program, so I ended up at my current college in small-town Pennsylvania. It's cold here, in the winter. it's so goddamn cold I don't want to go outside. I shouldn't go outside. And lucky for me I don't have to go outside because I have everything I need, inside, where it's warm, and I won't die by slipping on ice.

But apparently, my roommate thinks I'm STUPID for calling one of my co-workers to see if my job on campus would still be open. When I could've just "Walked outside to see if they're open" and "It's not that cold". FIRST OF ALL the air outside has to be a certain degree to even freeze the water in the sky and make it dense enough to fall out of the sky in the form of snow. in other words, IT HAS TO BE COLD, TO MAKE COLD WEATHER, AKA SNOW. And I left my warmest coat back home by accident, so I'm even less guarded against the cold weather. And I'm also anemic, it doesn't matter how many fucking layers I put on, I can still be, (and usually am) cold. She wouldn't let me explain why I don't find it necessary to go outside in the cold when I can just as easily find out the information I need by CALLING SOMEONE ON THE PHONE. Yeah sure she may not be here on campus, however, this probably isn't the first time the school's shut down because of weather, she would probably know if the school job that we both work would still be open. Which she did, and now I know whenever the school is shut down, my job is too.

I started to raise my voice because when someone insults me, the natural reaction is to defend myself. And when someone repeatedly interrupts you in conversation, wrongly assuming you're done and continuing to invalidate your feelings and emotions because THEY think it's STUPID and you're being DUMB AND IRRATIONAL about weather you aren't used to, their argument being "You have to get used to it at some point since you live here now"

Technically, I don't actually live here. I don't have a permanent residency here. I can't vote in this state. I live in a warmer southern state. My home is in another state. I am "living" on a college campus. But in the next 3 years? I'm not going to be able to live here. I don't stay here during the winter and summer. I go HOME. I FLY TO ANOTHER STATE. Technically I don't HAVE to get used to shit. I can get my degree, and move to fucking California where it doesn't ever snow. And I can hate the cold all the same. Because it's my right to not like cold weather, yeah I complain about it, but I know it's something I have to deal with. That doesn't mean I have to "learn to get used to it" right now just because you fucking say so. And you don't have to fucking call me stupid and illogical every time I don't want to go outside. That's rude. You can think it, but you don't have to say it. I'm seriously starting to rethink my friendship with this person because we can be fine and friendly, and instantly jump into an argument fucking 5 SECONDS later. I don't want to even live with this person anymore, I'm just dealing with it because the alternative is living with someone I don't know.

UGH IM SO PISSED OFF

anyway, rant over. Now we return to the regularly scheduled programming. 🍫

[mygeekcorner]

mygeekcorner/757408949166342144

This post;

1, 2, 4, 5, 10 (FUCKING DUUHH?!), 14, 19, 22, 36, 37, 38 and 39

(enjoy bitch)

1, what are 3 things you’d say shaped you into who you are?

how do you look at back at a whole life and pinpoint when it twisted this way or that? we're all made up of so many more impressions than could ever fit into a neat little map. but sure, i'll try. 3 things among thousands that shaped me into the floundering 30 something wine hag you all know now

school? that sounds way too broad but heck it. the way it shaped that sense of self and where you belonged both in and outside of classrooms. up to junior high I was Good At School but Bad At People and that gave me exactly that awful self importance that kids who are good at nothing but reading get to make up for how lonely we feel. oh fuck you, you all know exactly what kind of smugness I'm talking about here. thankfully I got into a high school class of people way smarter And more ambitious than me which gave me some much-needed reality checks when the fatigue set in senior year. yay?

being a horse girl was a strange balance looking back at it. you were taught to be ocd levels of careful when cleaning up and taking care of the horse and the equipment, but you're also knee-deep in literal shit in the pouring rain cause someone dropped their riding crop when hacking out and you can't go home until you have all your shit together. it definitely hits the need to be perfect always, but also makes you kind of immune to filth and grit?

the friends I had as a teen. I know it must come as a shock to you all but I've always been a very akward nerd who isn't always the best at knowing what's socially accepted or social suicide rip but in middle school somehow 4 nerdy girls found each other, and then others, and I will be forever grateful that I had that bunch of dorks to hang out with as we navigated puberty, school, fandom introductions, and all that other good shit. there is a certain kind of bond you make when 8 girls squeeze onto one 90cm bed for the slumber party and I love that we looked like a pile of pigs (according to one girls younger sister one such morning)

2, show us a picture of your handwriting?

4, what’s an inside joke you have with your family or friends?

when we first got to know each other back in the day @magnusdidntwantablog was once kind enough to come pick me up from work when I was stationed at our store in the neighbouring town (about an hour away) and worked late enough that no buses would get me home. It was winter and his car was freezing but he wasn't wearing any gloves because he said he had the fans set on warmer air and it would warm up "any minute now". His hands were numb by the time we got to my place and the car was just turning into less of a fridge. Since then that delivery of "aaany minUTE now" has been our go to for when we think the other is being dumb and should just listen. Yes, I know you're sick of it, but that just makes it funnier to us.

5, what made you start your blog?

hubris? nah but my friends talked about it and it seemed fun, so I lurked for a bit and then decided I wanted in on it too

10, would you say you’re an emotional person? (FUCKING DUUHH?!)

HEY! that hurts my poor emotional feelings ;;_;;

but uh yeah, totally am. but I feel like I'm rarely UwU-soft emotional, more heart on sleeve and easily riled up-emotional rip lol

14, what’s something you’ve always wanted to do but maybe been to scared to do?

take up acting properly, but the older I get the less convinced I am that I have what it takes.. and also time commitment?

19, favourite thing about the day?

that's when I'm able to do the awake thing? also the eating thing.

22, say 3 things about someone you love

3 things I love about @jacquelinesrumbottle is how she is the most easily excitable person ever! she will hype anything and everyone she loves up to everyone she meets because did you know that her friends and fiance are the most talented, beautiful, amazing, generous people who ever walked the earth? also did you have a chance to read this breathtaking book or play that life changing game yet?

she is generous to a fault because spoiling people when she can brings her joy. but also we were supposed to send each other One Jar of Nutella, not a moving box filled with local sweets that took months to finish x'D

her imagination and sense of wonder is hard to find outside 3rd graders (affectionate), because everything really is possible! she carries a thousand stories in her cute little head at any given moment and also did you read the latest article on psychology or stray kids?

have I mentioned that I miss her?

36, are you an open book or do you have walls up?

both? if I care about people I don't have a lot of walls up around them, but that doesn't mean I'm necessarily the most forthcoming. I'll be dropping hints that I need to talk before I'll turn to someone outright and vent because heaven forbid that I bother someone with my small little life and its problems

37, share a secret

I have unread ao3 emails from 2017 (/o\)

if you think it's frustrating trying to get me to sit down and read or watch something you've recommended please know that in my inbox there are stories that I found myself, liked, subscribed to get updates when they posted new chapters, and then proceeded to Not read for 7 years? yeah, I hate myself a little a lot over it.

38, fave song at the moment?

who knows about fave, but this song has been playing on repeat in my brain for like a week so you can have that

39, youtuber you’ve been obsessed with and why?

there's been a few over the years but I love watching Bernadette Banner for myself cause it's fascinating watching people who know things and she has such a calming presence.

but also we've been watching Ants Canada together to watch his homemade rainforest and the Special Interst(TM) is off the charts but it's so fucking earnest and something I really enjoy about our sundays lol

[f1-birb]

For Emmy, @f1-disaster-bi, hopefully this cheers you up from your not so great day ❤️

Charles nudges Pierre in the ribs with his elbow, jutting his chin towards Lando as he scampers around the pack room.

They're all finished with qualifying and debriefs, and Monza is even hotter than usual. The air conditioning is desperately needed and their teams have all been kind enough to give them a break before calling them back for further team talks and data analysis.

Most of them can't even think about shifting right now, just thought making them sweat, but a few of them whose animal comes from warmer climates seem to be enjoying the heat. Fernando is even sunbathing outside.

Max is napping in his lion form, stretched out and lazy, tail flicking occasionally when Lando rushes past. Lance has Esteban in his lap, stroking behind the quokka's little ears and smiling at the soft chirps he gets back. Seb sits in one of the beanbags, Jenson's head on his thigh, lightly tracing the beautiful pattern of his partner's coat.

Pierre grins, enjoying the pack so at peace, and laughs when Charles nudges him again. He looks over to see Lando sitting at Carlos' feet, eyes big and shiny as he looks at what the man is holding.

"You won't like it, cabron." Carlos teases, and when Lando cranks up the cute he reaches a free hand down to brush between his ears. "It's coffee."

Lando's response is immediate, little pink tongue poking out as the most human-like expression of disgust twists his face. He turns around, almost offended, flicking his tail as he turns to find someone else with gelato to ‘share’.

Lando turns his attention to Daniel, the man now leaning against Max’s flank as he uses a little plastic spoon to scrape at his dessert. He pads over, doing his best to look innocent. It's to no avail though, as soon as Daniel spots the little fox coming his way, he's shoving the entire scoop into his mouth.

“Not sharing little man!” Daniel says through a full mouth, smiling when Lando pouts at him. His face instantly screws up, the brainfreeze hitting him hard and fast, and Lando yips a little laugh at the karma of it.

Max flops his tail on top of Lando’s head as he passes, chuffing when it nearly makes the fox buckle under the weight of it. Lando glares at him, biting down and then running away when Max yelps in surprise. He ends up beneath the window bench where Pierre and Charles sit, and very happily nuzzles under Pierre’s chin when his boyfriend picks him up.

He licks Pierre’s nose, wriggling happily when Charles reaches over to scratch behind his ear, and then wrestles himself free as Lewis walks in with Valtteri, both of them holding little paper bowls.

He trails after them, trotting along and planting himself at their feet once they've sat down. He looks up at them, eyes big and round and just on the right side of sad, his tail moving slowly in a sweep until it covers his paws.

Valtteri gives him a fond look, tilting his bowl and Lando pokes his tongue out when he sees it's the same as what Carlos had. Lewis chuckles, and Lando’s focus switches.

“You can have a little bite, okay? It's gonna be really cold on your teeth though.”

Lando nods, shuffling forwards excitedly and popping up onto his hind legs. He lifts a front paw, hooking it over Lewis’ wrist for balance, and he licks Lewis’ fingers in thanks before biting at the spoon.

Lewis laughs as the fox’s eyes light up at the taste, and then the whole room is laughing when Lando lets out what can only be described as a dramatic wail when the little chunk of gelato gets stuck on his canine.

He releases Lewis’ wrist, flopping over onto his side and whining as the ice cream slowly melts away.

“Buddy, I told you this would happen.” Lewis almost sounds sympathetic. Almost. It would be more effective if the words weren't said through a huge grin.

Lando glares at him, betrayal and embarrassment plainly on his face. He begrudgingly accepts the pats to his side before getting back to his feet, slinking through the piles of pillows and blankets, human legs and animal, until he's back at Pierre’s feet. He blinks up at his boyfriend, chirruping when he's scooped up, and he squirms until he's pressed between Pierre's thigh and the window.

He sticks his tongue out at Fernando, barking a little laugh when the older fox copies him, and then settles to listen to the soft French passing over his head and fingers scratch under his chin.

inspired by this tiktok