#the timing is too good for it to be a coincidence

[marksbear2]

Hiiii, bear!!! If you're still taking requests, could a request a homelander x male!reader fic where homelander is sort of a little desperate for readers approval because hw hasn't gotten a lot of positive attention in his life? And if it's still open, could I be '🪼 anon', please?

Homelander x male reader

Hiii and yes you may my friend. This has to be like a world record for me to be writing and posting a request in the same day.

Beneath the Cape

The first time you met Homelander, you hadn’t expected much.

Not because he wasn’t impressive—he was. Towering, broad-shouldered, the very image of America’s strongest hero. But you knew his reputation, the whispers beneath the carefully crafted PR. Dangerous. Unstable. Capable of wiping out a city if the mood struck him.

And yet, when you spoke to him, you saw something else. Something beneath the mask.

It had been a brief encounter. A charity event, one of those nauseatingly polished affairs where Vought paraded their golden boy around like a prize horse. You’d been there as part of your company’s sponsorship, nothing special. Just another name on a list.

But then he walked by, and you—unlike everyone else—didn’t grovel. Didn’t flinch. You just… smiled. A simple thing, a polite acknowledgment, nothing more.

And for a second, just a second, Homelander froze.

Then his expression shifted, something unreadable flickering across his face. He gave you a nod, an almost hesitant one, before moving on.

You thought nothing of it.

He, however, couldn’t stop thinking about it. Homelander started noticing you more after that.

It wasn’t immediate, but it was persistent. Every time he passed through a room, his gaze would linger on you a little longer. At first, it was just curiosity. Why hadn’t you looked at him the way everyone else did? With fear. With worship.

Instead, you were… normal. You treated him like a person, not a god.

And for the first time in his life, that felt more intoxicating than any amount of adoration. So he sought you out. First, by coincidence. Then, with more intention. He made excuses to be near you, dropping by your office under the pretense of business, stopping to chat when he saw you at events. He wanted—needed—to know why you were different.

And every time you spoke to him, it was like a breath of fresh air. No false praise. No trembling admiration. Just simple, casual conversation. You didn’t hesitate to crack a joke, to roll your eyes at corporate nonsense, to treat him like—well, like a regular guy.

He couldn’t get enough of it.

Of you.

At first, you chalked up his frequent appearances to coincidence. But then it became too frequent. Too deliberate.

Homelander always seemed to be around. Finding excuses to talk. Standing just a little too close. And then there were the looks. The way he watched you—not with the cold, calculated gaze he gave most people, but something softer. Almost needy.

It was subtle at first, the way his eyes followed you, the way his expression shifted when you laughed at something he said. But then there were the moments when he lingered after conversations, as if reluctant to leave.

And one night, after another one of those tedious events, you finally called him out on it.

“Alright,” you said, arms crossed as you leaned against the balcony railing. “What’s your deal?”

Homelander blinked, tilting his head. “My deal?”

“You keep showing up around me. Hanging around like a lost puppy.” You raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you have better things to do?”

There it was again—that flicker of something behind his eyes.

“Would you rather I leave?” His voice was casual, but you caught the undercurrent beneath it. The uncertainty. The smallest, quietest thread of insecurity, woven into the carefully controlled mask.

You exhaled. “I didn’t say that.”

His expression shifted, something relieved, something satisfied. “Good,” he murmured, stepping closer. Close enough that you could smell the faint scent of his cologne, something crisp and clean beneath the fabric of his suit.

And then he smiled, not the perfect, PR-ready grin he always wore for the cameras, but something real.

Something just for you.

From then on, it was impossible to ignore.

Homelander wanted your attention. Craved it. And he wasn’t subtle about it.

He’d show up at your office unannounced, making himself comfortable in your chair like he belonged there. He’d hover during conversations, subtly guiding them back to himself, clearly wanting to hear what you thought of him.

And, God help you, he was charming when he wanted to be. Infuriatingly so.

“You like me, don’t you?” he mused one evening, seated across from you in your apartment—because, yes, he had started showing up there too, somehow always knowing when you were home.

You scoffed. “What kind of question is that?”

“A simple one.” He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “You’re nice to me.”

You frowned. “And?”

“No one’s ever nice to me.”

Something in his voice made you pause.

It was an admission, plain and simple, but there was something raw beneath it. Something vulnerable.

He covered it quickly, pasting on a smirk. “Well, not without wanting something in return.”

You sighed. “Maybe I’m just nice.”

He studied you for a long moment. Then, quietly, “Maybe that’s why I like you.”

Your stomach twisted.

Not out of fear. Not out of discomfort. But something deeper.

Something dangerous.

Because the way he looked at you—the way he wanted you—wasn’t just some passing fascination.

It was need.

And you weren’t sure you could ignore it much longer.

---

It escalated from there.

Not in the way you expected. He didn’t push. Didn’t demand.

He just… stayed.

In your life. In your space. Always there, always watching, always waiting for whatever little scraps of attention you’d give him. And God, when you did?

It was like he came alive.

A simple touch—your hand brushing his arm—made his breath hitch. A kind word had him lingering on it for days.

You realized, then, just how little warmth he’d ever been given.

And how much he wanted it from you.

One night, after a long conversation over drinks, he sighed, tilting his head toward you. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?”

“How much I need this.” His voice was softer than usual. “How much I need you.”

Your chest tightened.

And when he leaned in, when his lips hovered just a breath away from yours, you realized something.

You needed him too.

THE END

[covet-lovett]

Just a coincidence? - Kitaroo

Kangaroo x self insert

word count: 752

~~~~~~

“fuck..” Kat groaned as she leaned her head back against the front door of her apartment. It had been a long, tedious day of classes so she felt immense relief to be home. She pushed herself off the door and dropped her bag down with her kicked off shoes. Kat looked around the small apartment to see the wake of Kangaroo’s morning. She had left pretty early that morning. He had oatmeal. He left his dirty bowl on the counter. She moved it to the sink with a sigh. His pants were on the floor halfway down the hallway.. she didn’t even want to know. 

“Hey..” she said through a sigh as she gently tapped the glass of her snake’s terrarium. The little guy booped the glass with its turned up nose causing Kat to smile. “At least you had a good day…” Kat rubbed her eyes before deciding a warm shower would do her good after the day she had. 

Being home alone, she stripped off her clothes on the way to her bedroom. She grabbed a random shirt of hers and yoinked a pair of Kangaroos sweatpants before heading towards the bathroom. After setting down the clothes folded on the counter, she checked the time on her phone. Only 6pm. Kangaroo wouldn’t be home for another 3 hours at least. Stretching and looking in the mirror at her dark circles she sighed again. 

Turning the knob, the water sputtered on from the rickety shower head. Her foot was halfway through its step inside when her phone dinged. The specific ding she had set for Kangaroo. She was too curious to wait until after her shower to read it. Kang almost never texted her during work. 

The message read “without me :(?” 

She froze. Kangaroo had a habit of barging into her showers.. when he was home. He was at work right now. He shouldn’t know.. he couldn’t know that she was about to shower. Her heart beat quickened as her eyes darted around warily. She put her phone down without answering the message. She was spooked. Her hand groped backwards for her towel that she promptly wrapped around her body. She didn’t know why. This was foolish wasn’t it? It had to be a coincidence.. right? A crazy coincidence. A wary, dry chuckle left her lips. “You’re being crazy..” 

She trusted her boyfriend. She thought. But did she really? If she truly trusted her boyfriend, why was she searching the bathroom high and low for a hidden camera.  Why was so paranoid she was checking the toothbrush bristles. She found nothing. Nothing. That was good right? …Right?

It wasn’t enough. She got locked in her anxiety and more time passed than she realized. She was just standing in the hallway in her towel when the front door opened. 

“Guess who’s back luv~” A cheery tone echoed through the cramped apartment. Kangaroos eyes met her figure in the hallway with a chuckle. “Whatcha doin there? Is the Kat seeing ghosts~” He poked her upper chest. When she didn’t answer, his smirk dropped a bit. “Hey- come back to me red” He tapped her cheek and she blinked rapidly. “Yeah- I’m fine” Kangaroo scoffed and yanked a strand of her hair. “Yeah right. Cause standing in a towel in the hallway screams fine” 

Kat pulled her hair away. “I showered.. that’s why the towel” 

“Oh bullshit. Your hair is too straight to have just showered. You’d have your little ringlets by now.” Kangaroo stepped forward, causing her to lean against the wall. Kat huffed. “Fine. I got distracted.” She pondered whether or not to continue. “Just..” Her eyes met his. “How did you know I was about to shower?” 

“Huh?” Kangaroo quirked his full brow. Kat slid to the side so she could get away from the wall. “The text. How did you know..” 

Kangaroos smirk looked sinister for a split second before he burst out with laughter. “The text? A coincidence. I assumed it was hard day and knowing you~ you can’t resist the warm water” Kat’s lips stuttered and Kangaroo continued. “What? You accusing me of setting up cameras luv?” 

Kat’s eyes darted to the side then to his face. “Well.. it..” While she stuttered, his gaze looked in the bathroom behind her, he could tell she went on a little ransack looking for a camera. He pressed a kiss to her stuttering lips and gently pushed her backwards into the bathroom. 

“All I’m hearing is you never got your shower~” 

[rwbyrg]

Okay, can we talk about the fact that when Ruby thought she "killed" Oscar, that is when she broke. She just lost it after that. She fell over and you could feel the weight when she hits her knees. It just shows that Ruby really does care for him and if something happened to him, she probably wouldn't be able to go on....

Love and grief are two sides of one coin, and Ruby's fatal flaw is her grief. It is the force that both spurs her to action, and that which is her greatest weakness. This doesn't simply manifest as fighting for those she's already lost (her mother, Pyrrha, Penny, etc.), or fighting to protect those she hasn't lost yet (per her silver eyes: the preservation of life). These aren't just goals or missions; they are the reason she became a huntress in the first place. They are what Ruby Rose is. Except, after all that she has been through by the time she arrives in the Ever After, these foundations that she built her self image upon have withered.

Ruby's desire to honour those she's lost and protect those she hasn't has twisted into a much more insidious thing. A belief that she must save them, that she alone is responsible for it. Except, with every lost friend, with every failure, those fears have taken on greater power over her. They've shifted into the belief that - not only can she not save anyone - but that she is directly responsible for the deaths of those she's lost. That every time she tries to do the right thing, she will just cause more harm than good.

It is a fear so paralyzing, that she becomes unable to lift up her weapon - an extension of her self; a symbol of her identity - at all, lest taking action bring about what she fears most once again.

And then Neo goes and proves her right.

And of course she uses Oscar to do it.

In the Dojo Scene in V5, Oscar is the first - and for a while, only - person to get Ruby to open up and be vulnerable about her fears and the weight of her burdens. He is the only one to see through the façade she puts up before it's too late. That scene kicks off their relationship as something unique, showing us that Oscar is close to Ruby in a way that differs from the rest of the cast. A closeness that only grows with every show of mutual support between them, with every instance of Oscar noticing Ruby struggle where others have failed, and with every moment where their attachments to each other are tested. Also, it's no coincidence the core issue that Ruby bonds with Oscar over in the first place is his fear about the merge: a curse that slowly strips away Oscar's agency, autonomy, and identity.

I think I've said before that technically Neo could have used an illusion of anyone's death in the Tea House Scene, but that's not really true. To anyone paying attention, you know what's going to happen before the cane drops. Because Ruby is closer to Oscar than she is with others. Because Ruby is fighting desperately to save those she loves, while being terrified her actions might be the very reason she loses them in the first place. And while Ruby is wandering around the Ever After looking for a way home, Oscar is a world apart from her fighting a curse he is losing himself to; a fate that Ruby has no power to protect him from.

So of course it was an illusion of Oscar's death at her own hand that pushed her to her breaking point. He is the embodiment of her attachments (her greatest strength) and that which she fears losing the most (her greatest weakness), because he is the one she is most likely to lose if she can't win this fight.

It was always going to be Oscar. It was only ever going to be Oscar.

[burningembers91]

Seeking Attention - Hong Woo-Jin x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Hong Woo-Jin has a thing for the new Pilates instructor at the gym. But as someone who’s been left broken hearted one too many times, you’re going to make the cocky boxer work for your attention.

Hong Woo-Jin had always been a cocky bastard. He’d always been confident, and loud, the life and soul of the party. He constantly went out of his way to make people laugh, and it was forever getting him in trouble. Throughout school he’d been in detention more times than he could count, and as an adult his brash attitude had gotten him into hot water many times. But Woo-Jin couldn’t help it; he felt like he needed to be loud; being loud was better than being quiet and alone with his thoughts.

He’d always struggled with self-worth, never quite feeling good enough for the people around him. No matter what he did, he was a constant source of disappointment to his father. Growing up, he’d started to act out as a way of getting attention from the man he looked up to most. He knew it wasn’t clever, knew the plan was doomed to fail, but he was so desperate for acknowledgment from his father, no matter how much trouble he had to get in to receive it. The loudmouth troublemaker persona had stuck with him, and Woo-Jin didn’t know how to snap out of it. Every time he felt himself falter, every time he felt his self-worth slip, he’d crack a joke and pull some crazy stunt to convince himself he was doing just fine.

But sometimes the only thing that could halt the voice in his head was boxing. He’d started boxing as a child, another way he desperately sought the affection of his father. He had a natural talent, and although it still wasn’t enough to please the man who had raised him, Woo-Jin was hooked. Every spare second he had was spent at the gym, honing and crafting his skills. He won every fight, had medals and trophies adoring his walls and shelving, but it still wasn’t enough for his dad. He craved love and affection, but had never quite managed to find it.

He’d never had a problem with women, always able to get a date, but never quite able to get them to stick around. Woo-Jin told himself he was happy to live life as a bachelor, but his nights were so lonely.

When you joined as instructor at the Pilates studio across the hall from his boxing gym, Woo-Jin was determined to win you over. But you were unlike anyone he’d met before. You didn’t fall for his cheesy chat up lines, didn’t giggle at his jokes. You’d roll your eyes and sigh, and try your best to hide your smile.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Woo-Jin, but you’d been burned one too many times, and you didn’t want to open yourself up to the inevitable heartbreak you knew would come.

Your classes coincided with his training, and the two of you interacted most days. You were funny, smart, witty and beautiful, and Woo-Jin so badly wanted the chance to make you happy. But you were a tough nut to crack, the one woman who seemed able to resist his charm. He wondered if he was losing his touch.

“What do you reckons tougher?” He asked one day, in a last ditch attempt to impress you. “Boxing, or Pilates?”

You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what he was doing. “Pilates. Definitely Pilates.”

“Oh yeah?” Woo-Jin took a swig of his water bottle, his bare chest and torso glistening with sweat. You purposely avoided looking, not willing to admit to yourself how good he looked.

“Do you think I’d be any good?” He smiled, flexing his biceps.

“Well, if you sign up for my class and pay the entry fee, we’ll see,” you winked, before heading outside to your car.

You came in the next day to find Woo-Jin’s name on your next class sign up sheet, the entry fee pushed under the studio door. This man was unrelenting, but you felt your stomach flip.

If Woo-Jin was so desperate to impress you, you’d make him work for it.

[mimpinightmare]

"Let your hair down, Shakes~"

A 'Supa Strikas, Shakes Edit' (HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SHAKES!! :D 💗)

Happy Birthday to THIS GUY~ (Don't know if you know this, but he's sorta a BIG DEAL-)

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Making an 'edit' dedicated towards our beloved protagonist~ :) Hope the edit looks good. I was fighting with myself if this is AT LEAST look decent or not- Well, hope you enjoy regardless. :)

So here's the thing- This was supposed to released on January. But things came up and made me pull away myself from not working on the edit for weeks. So if you think it feels abit rushed, IT WAS. UNFORTUNATELY- 💀 I thought I couldn't finish this, but Shakes' Birthday was around the corner, and I had free time and pretty much a coincidence I was making an 'edit' for him.

Anyways, that's that. Happy I could finish this (EXACTLY ON HIS BIRTHDAY-) despite not satisfied in some angles of the 'edit'. Oh well, what can you do?

Hope you all like it, despite it's flaws~ :) ✨💛💜💛💜💛💜💛✨

HEY!! I even uploaded on my YouTube Channel. Check the edit out there too if you like to give abit support over there! :D (Captions are available there!)

[scoops-aboy86]

Your mission,if you choose to accept it:

Steddie prompt: Steve and Eddie are separate blind dates. Horrible blind dates. They decide to ditch their dates and go on a date together ❤️

I’m not sure I delivered on both dates being entirely horrible—Steve’s is mostly okay, just, not as good as it would have been with his secret crush who just happens to be on a date in the same restaurant. Anyway, here’s this! 4183 words. Sorry it’s been sitting in my ask box since July!

~

Steve walks into the restaurant and immediately perks up upon seeing a familiar curly head of hair by the hostess stand. “Eds, man, what are you doing here?”

As soon as he says it, he experiences a mental vertigo—Robin had sent him to this address to meet “a friend” of hers for a date, something to get him out of his usual social rut and test run his recently realized bisexuality like he keeps talking about but never actually pulling the trigger on. But… she would have told him if it was a friend they both knew, right? Surely, if she set him up with Eddie, she’d tell him… right?

Turning, Eddie blinks and then grins at him, oblivious to Steve’s sudden mental tailspin. “Stevie, it’s been forever!” He walks over, as always with a slight limp even after all the physical therapy, and a faded scar still pulling at one side of his smile. Claps Steve on the shoulder, hand warm and giving one quick squeeze before letting go. 

And the thing is, it has been several weeks. A whole month, at least. Steve blames his schedule… and refuses to acknowledge that he’s felt too self-conscious to seek Eddie out now that he’s realized some, uh, things. Like how Eddie’s smile makes his stomach swoop and not just a weird coincidence every time they hang out. So he’s a little surprised to see that Eddie has put on some weight since they’d last hung out. Not that it looks bad on him, far from it, it’s just that Eddie had always laughed over how he could eat whatever and it never showed, something about trailer park rations and a metabolism that moved even faster than his silver tongue. 

Now it shows. The rounded cheeks make his dimples pop even more when he smiles, and Steve has never seen a more grabable waist in his life. Love handles; who knew?

“Ronnie has sent me on a mission,” Eddie continues, sounding serious but with an amused twinkle in his eye that Steve hangs on like a planet circling a star. “I’m to entertain a friend of hers with my masculine wiles for the evening. Pray tell, have you seen any tall dark and handsomes roving about with a rainbow pin on his lapel?”

Something in Steve sinks all the way down to the soles of his shoes. So Eddie is here on a blind date too, but not with him. Of course not with him, it’s not like he’s told Robin who the catalyst for his realization was. (And she’d said something about it being a friend from her Shakespeare class anyway; Eddie isn’t a college kind of guy.) It’s not like he could ever be Eddie’s type, completely devoid of leather and chains and metal band memorabilia, and way too reppy. Too much of a jock, the type of guy who made Eddie’s terrible high school experience even worse—was that kind of guy for a little bit, between the popularity of being captain of various sports teams getting to his head and a whole mess of adolescent bullshit that had taken him a while to wade through. 

Steve is long over all that now, but it left a stain on him that people like Eddie can probably still sense. Wouldn’t be fair to up and ask him to overlook it, just because Steve went and caught feelings.  

So nothing is going to happen between them, not ever, and that’s his new thing to wade through. Someday he’ll make it out the other side and be a better person for it, and still have Eddie as a friend. That’s… just how it’s going to have to be.

Still, there’s a scratch in his voice when he replies, “Sorry, haven’t seen anyone like that.” Not a lie, because he hadn’t been looking for it and probably wouldn’t notice otherwise. Steve coughs, clears his throat a little. “Robin’s set me up with someone too. I’m supposed to be looking for a ridiculously long striped scarf. Like, thirteen feet long, I think she said? Which seems weirdly specific, but…”

The twinkle in Eddie’s eyes intensifies. “A Doctor Who scarf, eh? Good for you, expanding your horizons to include more nerds. I’ll help you look, can’t be too hard to spot a girl sporting that.”

“Um,” Steve says, face flushing. Right. Eddie… doesn’t have any way of knowing that Steve’s blind date is supposed to be a guy, because the only person in their friend group that he’s come out to so far is Robin.  

He’s saved from having to put it into words by a tap on his shoulder, and it’s a young man with wavy black hair that falls just past his shoulders and square-ish glasses. The scarf around his neck is a morse code of greens and yellows and reds and purples and warm grays, looped multiple times so both ends don’t drag on the floor. 

“Hi, um, Steve? Robin said to look for a red sweater and ‘the tallest hair known to man and Farrah Fawcett’...”

Steve glances at Eddie, whose jaw has dropped approximately to China, then back. “Yeah, of course she did. That’s me.” He wiggles his fingers in a little wave. “Jacob, right?”

The guy nods enthusiastically, blushing. “Yeah!” And then he peers around to look at Eddie. 

“Oh, this is my friend Eddie, we just ran into each other,” Steve explains. “He’s on a blind date too! Uh, with someone else, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Eddie parrots back, a little wide-eyed but clearly pulling himself together from the brink of shock, because he’s good at thinking on his feet like that. (Better than Steve anyway, blurting out Eddie’s business as if Robin might have set all three of them up at once without happening to mention it. Jesus Christ.) “And of course it would be weird to suggest making it a double date, seeing as how it’s blind all around, that would just give Stevie and me here an unfair advantage, ha! Anyway, I think it looks like my table is ready now, so I’ll just—yeah.”

The hostess is approaching with two menus in hand and doesn’t seem thrown off by the way Eddie speed walks to head her off, so maybe it’s just that. Steve follows their progress through the dining area with his eyes for a beat too long, a faint crease forming between his brows because that was abrupt, a little weird even for Eddie. 

But then he turns back to Jacob, his actual date. Brings out the ol’ Harrington charm, because he’s good at this—or used to be, with girls. Maybe it’s not so different with guys after all, because Jacob smiles back with a bashful little duck of his head. 

They end up at the bar while waiting for a table of their own, and the first sour note of the evening comes when Jacob turns out to be a bit of a wine snob. 

“I mean, how hard is it to know something about a bottle besides what’s printed on the label?” he’s saying, nose still upturned at the now distant bartender who’s sticking pretty pointedly to the other end of the bar. “Anything beyond the varietal at least, anyone can tell that just by reading.”

Steve winces internally, trying very hard not to think of his mother’s delicate sneer over the rim of a wine glass right now. It’s not like Robin, who doesn’t drink much, would know or even have much opportunity to screen for this sort of thing. He can get past it, without letting it dominate the first impression, really  

“I, uh, think this place is better known for its cocktails than the wine list,” he says, an attempt at neutrality. “Anyway, what were you saying about that math guy, um… Boris? With the library?”

Jacob brightens immediately. “Jorge Luis Borges, yes—”

A waiter interrupts to lead them to a table, and Steve finishes off his Cosmo before leaving the glass and a covert tip at the bar. The thread of earlier conversation is lost again—Steve hadn’t really gotten much out of it anyway, beyond the vague sense of a labyrinthine universe made entirely of library rooms which, kind of boring maybe, but still better than the universe full of sentient vines and eyeless creatures with too many teeth. 

They look over their menus and place their orders. Steve just gets another cocktail to go with his entree, and while Jacob fusses over wine pairings again he finds his eyes drifting around the room, trying to find… 

Eddie, chatting away with some guy that Steve is only able to see the back of at this angle. He seems in good enough spirits after that weird departure, and happily not stood up or anything, but.

There’s a moment where his gaze flickers just enough to catch Steve looking straight at him, and Eddie visibly stumbles over whatever he’d been saying. It’s too far away to hear and Steve can’t read lips worth a damn—despite the slight loss of hearing in his left ear after that bullshit with the Russians that one summer, no matter what Dustin had assured him at the time about his other senses compensating for it or something. Steve takes a deep breath and returns his attention to his own date, feeling guilty for whatever awkward word pile-up he’d inadvertently caused. 

“So what do you do?” Jacob asks with a smile. “I don’t think you’ve mentioned it yet.”

It’s maybe the second sour note, realizing that he hasn’t represented himself very well so far in the first half hour of their date, but Steve’s just distracted enough worrying about Eddie to not fully register it. 

~

By the time dessert lands on the table—chocolate cheesecake with raspberry coulis and two forks, one of Steve’s signature Moves™—he’s almost managed to put Eddie out of his mind. There were a few hiccups here and there, but from the looks Jacob is giving him over the shared dessert it seems pretty certain that they’re going home together after this. Steve is even looking forward to it, because a few hurried handjobs in club bathrooms is one thing but this feels like a Big Deal, a true comparison of his past dating history and what it would feel like to be with a man. 

He lives for this part, the tingle of anticipation in every shared look and knock of their feet under the table, all smiles and bitten lips and something electric in the air. 

And then Steve’s eyes land on Eddie again, as they have every now and then throughout the night. It’s like he can’t help himself, attention flitting back occasionally like a moth seeking light, as if just the fleeting reminder of Eddie’s glow is enough to keep him steady— Only this time, something’s wrong. The chair across from Eddie is empty and he’s slumped forward, elbow on the table as he glumly pulls an abandoned plate of apple pie ala mode closer to him, alongside two empty, stacked plates that must have been his own. 

The shock of seeing Eddie apparently abandoned throws Steve for a loop. Had something happened? Maybe the guy had been called away for an emergency, like a relative falling off a ladder or his apartment catching on fire. Maybe he was a doctor and had gotten a page from the hospital. Or does Eddie seem sadder, more defeated than that?

“I, um,” Steve finds himself saying when Jacob asks if he’d like to come back to his place. “I just remembered, I’ve actually got kind of an early day tomorrow? Some other time though, for sure, I’d love to. Just, tonight is, you know… no bueno…”

What the fuck. He’d taken the required years of Spanish classes for the credit to graduate high school, and this is, for some godawful reason, the first time since then that he’s ever even attempted to whip any of it out. 

This is definitely going to be a tally in the You Suck column, he knows, as Jacob’s expression shutters in disappointment. He’ll still tell Robin about it himself, though, since she’ll probably find out eventually anyway, but damn. Why did he say that?

And why, after the bill has been settled and his date has left the restaurant alone and probably feeling led on, does he stand and slowly make his way over to Eddie’s table?

Steve arrives and stands there stupidly for a second, because Eddie doesn’t look up from the last bites of his pilfered dessert. “Uh… hey. Mind if I sit?”

Eddie just shrugs listlessly, and that’s so wrong. He’s always such a vibrant guy, movement never ceasing and energy always thrumming beneath his skin, even when it’s the nervous kind. So Steve sits, but it’s with a sinking feeling that he can’t put his finger on. 

Or maybe it’s guilt, again, but he can’t really think of anything he’s done. It’s not like he drove Eddie’s date away. He’d only distracted Eddie the one time, as far as he’s aware, and that shouldn’t have been enough to disrupt the evening on its own. 

“If you’re going to ask, just go ahead,” Eddie mutters around a mouthful. 

Steve only hesitates another second or two, because maybe that means Eddie wants to talk about it. “Did your date have to leave early?”

A thin, very un-Eddie-like smile appears on Eddie’s face. “You could say that, Steve. You could say that… He, actually, made a comment about how I probably didn’t need dessert after two appetizers and one of the bigger entrees, and when I told him so what if I like my food and he could fuck off with that kind of attitude, he, uh. Took me up on that. Stuck me with the check too, so, you know, fuck it.” He jams the last bite into his mouth and adds around ice cream-soaked pastry, “I’m taking his leftovers home too. Fucking asshole.”

Steve can’t believe what he’s hearing. It’s dating 101 not to comment on how much your date does or doesn’t eat—at least, it always had been with girls. Maybe there’s some sort of gay memo that he, as a bisexual, has never received, but damn. 

“He’s an idiot,” he tells Eddie with absolute certainty. “That’s such bullshit, talking to you like that. If he were still here I’d kick his ass for you, man. I mean it.”

Eddie doesn’t look up at him, trying to scrape the last of the melted ice cream up with his fork. “Oh come on, who’re you kidding. He’s right, Steve. I ate two appetizers and an entire pizza all by myself, no to-go box. And three desserts. And I’m planning on finishing off his leftovers as soon as I get home, pity-party style, because I’ve just blown the first date I’ve bothered to go on in a month. I mean, look at me!”

Finally, Eddie makes eye contact with him, but it’s a dull and self-pitying look that makes Steve want to gather him up in a hug until he feels better. He hasn’t seen Eddie look like that since the summer of ‘86, after the bat-attack induced coma had worn off and someone (Steve) had had to tell him that his uncle had moved away while, in the aftermath of the ‘earthquake,’ the general public had briefly assumed Eddie was dead. 

(That, at least, had turned out all right. Steve had personally driven him all the way out and knocked on Wayne Munson’s new door while Eddie had still been physically weak and too pessimistic to do it himself. The reunion had involved an undignified amount of tears—but Steve had ended up drawn into some of the hugs too, and Wayne had clapped him gruffly on the back and called him a good man after Eddie explained who had carried him out of hell, and, really, some of that runny-nosed sniffling had been his.)

Now, if possible, Eddie looks even more resigned. When he looks back down at the scattering of empty plates before him, Steve notices the gentle swell beneath his jaw, the start of a double chin. 

“Nobody wants the fat guy. Tonight’s made that crystal fucking clear.”

“Bullshit.”

It takes a second for Steve to realize that he’s the one who said that. His mouth working faster than his brain again—hur hur, dumb ol’ Steve, what else would anyone expect when he’s known more for his hair and his past than anything else. 

But, fuck it, he really means it. So he continues, “I haven’t been able to stop looking at you all night, man. I just turned down my first real time in bed with a guy because… because you looked so upset over here, alone, and I wanted to make sure you’re okay. Which, you’re obviously not, because that’s a fucked up thing to say about yourself. About no one wanting you,” he adds quickly, when Eddie’s mouth opens to rebut. 

It’s enough that Eddie hesitates, licks his lips, pauses for a drink of what’s left in his glass and clears his throat. “You… You never even told me you like guys. You’re…?”

“Bisexual,” Steve fills in. He looks down at his hands where they rest stupidly in his lap. 

“Right. Are we… not close enough for you to tell me that?”

The suggestion stabs right through his heart, and shit, there’s no escaping the moment of truth coming up, is there? Steve wishes he had his own drink to clear out the sudden dryness in his mouth, but there’s nothing on this side of the table that Eddie’s date probably hasn’t put his mouth on first, and. Ew.

“I was… nervous,” Steve says carefully, wringing his hands out of sight beneath the table. “We are that close, but I, or—too close, maybe? I didn’t want you to, like, see. How I… feel about you, so… So I backed off a little.”

“A little?” Eddie repeats, incredulous. “We used to hang out every day, man. But this is the first time I’ve seen you in, what, a whole damn month?”

Steve is still staring down at his hands, at the little smudge of sky blue in the corner of his thumbnail he’d missed when cleaning up after the last time Robin had done his nails. 

“I thought I did something to push you away. I thought you’d seen right through me, how I feel about y-you.” It’s terrible, the way Eddie’s voice cracks over some of those words. “I put on twenty fucking pounds because I’ve been so stressed out.”

“It doesn’t look bad,” Steve blurts out. His face is so hot, he could probably cook a whole new dinner for them. Christ, but the idea that the new weight is there because of him is doing something really unexpected for him… Sending little jolts of possessiveness through his heart with each beat. 

How I feel about you, Eddie had said. How I feel about you. 

How I feel. 

About you. 

He’d give Eddie anything, everything, if he lets him. 

Eddie scoffs, and Steve can’t help the way his head snaps up. 

“No, I, I’m serious,” he stammers. “You want me to get you anything else? I’ll do it, Eds. I—I fucked up, must’ve if you could possibly think I don’t want you around. I stayed away because I felt transparent as hell, every time I looked at you, and I figured there was no way I’d be your type, because I’m not exactly—”

“Steve,” Eddie interrupts. “Did you spend the whole night looking over here and not even notice that my date was wearing a polo shirt and had the second most fantastic head of hair I’ve ever seen on a man? That he has certified muscles from working out at the gym, just like you do? Ronnie knows my type, man, and it is you. Everyone else is just a cheap imitation at best!”

“… Oh,” Steve says dumbly. Because he hadn’t noticed that; he had only been looking at Eddie. And then he considers for a moment. “I… don’t even think I bothered to get Jacob’s number. He was… okay, but not, um. Not you.”

He wills Eddie to hear the rest of it, the parts he’s still kind of terrified to say out loud, worried that it would be too much, like he’s always been. Nothing compared to you, he can’t say yet. Couldn’t even hold a candle. Never stood a chance in the long run, really, from the moment we both ended up at this same restaurant. 

There’s a pause, during which Eddie’s waiter turns up with the check, a large box already tucked into a plastic bag, and a puzzled look at Steve. 

Eddie hands over his credit card and shoos the waiter away without even looking, something like hope dawning bright in his expression. “Do you, um. Want to get out of here, Stevie?”

Steve beans at him, giddy. “Sure. If you’re still hungry I know an ice cream place we could walk to from here.”

The look Eddie gives him is one part shrewd, twelve parts delighted. “You might be more of a freak than I realized. Which is a compliment, by the way.”

“I know,” Steve replies with a wink. He can’t quite believe this is happening, but it’s happening—and he honestly can’t think of a better compliment than being called freak by Eddie Munson while that twinkle is there in his eyes. Steve’s a sucker for that twinkle, and the dimpled smile he gets in response. 

~

They do end up going on that stroll for ice cream. Steve lets Eddie’s eyes be what he thinks is bigger than his stomach, then cheers him on as Eddie does actually manage to finish the entire banana split with minimal assistance. He kisses the chocolate sauce from Eddie’s lips in a dark spot outside the parlor, touching the new love handles that he’d noticed before and noticing, too, the way Eddie’s tight jeans are squeezing his softness into two separate rolls. 

“Let me?” he murmurs, and at Eddie’s eager nod he lets his fingers travel beneath the oversized shirt that hides his straining waistband. With a little sucking in, it’s just possible to get the button undone—Eddie moans prettily against his mouth at the release, his full belly rounding out into a smooth dome under Steve’s soothing hands. The shirt is still long enough to cover the fact that his jeans end up completely unzipped, the open flaps stretching wide as Steve helps him resettle in them to be more comfortable, with his belly hanging out and over. 

Steve doesn’t know what twenty extra pounds looks like, exactly; he has no idea if that’s an accurate number or an approximation. But Eddie feels big in a way that makes his pulse speed up, same as when he drops his hands a little lower and feels Eddie’s cock react to his touch through the denim, growing thick and heavy there too. 

It doesn’t even feel strange, going from friends to fervently making out in a darkened alcove. Going from there to Steve’s car, which he helps Eddie into because his full stomach gets in the way and bending over forces out these endearing little hiccupy burps, helps crank the seat back to make it more comfortable for him. Going back to Steve’s place because Robin is out at her girlfriend’s for the night and Eddie rooms with all three of his bandmates. 

Going to bed, where they see all of each other for the first time. The contrast of Steve’s scars on his lean sides and the way they pucker and stretch over Eddie’s recent gains—Steve kisses every inch of them, because it’s Eddie, tears in his eyes from how much he’s wanted this. Years out from all the trauma of it but still wearing matching reminders that will forever bind them together, make them feel whole, together, in a way no one else could ever really quite reach. 

They finish the leftovers in bed together, as a post-sex snack. Eddie can barely keep his eyes open, can’t take his hands away from his packed-full belly, but still whimpers for Steve to press more little tidbits between his lips and sucks sweetly on each fingertip before letting go. Breaths that sound more like moans, getting Steve just a little riled up again despite the fact that he’s tired too. Snickering together over long-shared jokes from their years of friendship and new little things to tease each other over from tonight. Savory-sweet kisses shared in their drowsy cocoon of blankets, Steve pressed against Eddie’s plush backside and providing slow and steady belly rubs that make his new boyfriend (boyfriend!!) curl his toes with happy, satisfied sighs. 

Tomorrow, they’ll each tell their best friends that it was the best blind date night ever, even though they’ll never talk to the guys they were set up with ever again. Tonight, they fall asleep in a cozy universe built for two, soft and warm and hearts full to bursting. 

Permanent tag list (ask to be added or removed): @hotluncheddie @hiei-harringtonmunson @sofadofax @victorclays @oatmilk-vampire

@wheneverfeasible @hamiltonswiftie @grtwdsmwhr @yesdangerpls @theseaofdespair

@ape31

[jeffmangumscumsock]

Hi [tumblr].

Still by The Geto Boys in the Lucky Star intro.

Bye [tumblr].

[icantalk710]

Two weeks later and it somehow did not occur to me to post the new haircut--i still get my powers restored right 🥺

[bowenoke]

you'd think a timeloop of mouthwashing would go so hard but unfortunately i think to remain true to the source material. the crew member stuck in the time loop WOULD have to be jimmy

[luxuriantegg]

2am here but. against all odds. I am gripping tight to my dumbass completely unfounded theory that Ruby is a Rose/Tentoo kid SOMEHOW . and IDK HOW. doesn’t make sense. but it makes sense…… to me :’)

[fortune-maiden]

The secret of the claw machine broke me.

[thedeafprophet]

i do. geniuenly love Jam being a lil chubby and generaly more rounded shapes in their design. im glad i did that. i should practice drawing such more

[buccellato]

We're at one of my favorite parts of the story (and probably one of Vash's least favorite parts 😬😬), where we get to see how much Vash's family means to him

In book 1 of trimax, the Doc tells Brad that Vash's concept of family extends to the entirety of the human race

...So a Man revenge-killing a murderer isn't just 2 humans committing various levels of violence against each other (at differing levels of justifiable), it's 2 families members hurting each other and Vash can't bring himself to not try and stop it. Even if you understand *why* they fight, you probably wouldn't want your cousins to kill each other in front of you, right? And Vash struggles with it, because some of these people he's saving really do deserve the bullet reserved for them; but at the end of the day he still doesn't want to watch them to die.

And over the course of volume 1 and 2 of trimax, the story repeatedly brings up the question (either overtly or through subtext) "What would you do if you your family was in danger? What lengths would you go?"

Which leads us to the first big fight for this question when Vash's actual, closest living thing to a loving family is under attack. His anguish is palpable to everyone alive in the room with him, his wrath is close to deadly, and every new room he finds with more puppets just hurts him further. But even when he's faced with a monster that has destroyed his one vestige of safety in the world, even if that monster has talked about how he wants to do the same to him, he still can't bring himself to kill him! He even goes so far to try and spare him!

Not because of any specific moral reasoning (even though he's given one to Dominique before), but because before he was Leonof the Puppetmaster, he was a little boy named Emilio that loved his father's bread and had a crush on a girl named Isabel. He was someone that Vash knew, someone he recognized, and someone he undoubtedly cared for greatly at one point. And even if he couldn't save him, he at least had to try, because he was family at one point too.

And of course, it's not all pain and suffering for Vash, because when he wakes up in the hospital ready to blame himself for not being able to save everyone, Luida cuts him off: He did the best he could, he saved lives despite the losses, and at the end of the day he's still family to them, too. Even if the rest of humanity views him as a menace, there's still someone out there who reciprocates his love in a way that doesn't hurt him.

And boy, you can see how much of a relief (and source of stress it is for him) on his face lmao

[quietwingsinthesky]

the human au doctors are all ambiguously from Not Great Home Situations but i think twelve specifically was having a terrible time as a foster kid and decided this little gang of weirdos would be his new family

[demigod-in-distress]

rereading tlt and realizing the real reason Hades wanted to kill Thalia so bad (and also percy to a lesser extent) was because ZEUS killed Maria and attempted to kill both Nico and Bianca in the past. hades just wanted his revenge

[spacedlexi]