#which one does he look like he’s on a date with more

[orbitganymede]

baby daddy simon who dated you for a year before you got pregnant, you’d gone through most of the pregnancy alone, him being deployed 3 weeks after you found out and gone until the very last month of it. the both of you had tried at keeping the relationship together, but the distance and loneliness got to you, you’d been fine when it was just you but now with baby, you can’t let the father go in and out of their life. he wasn’t very happy with the decision to end your relationship, in his mind you were together forever now, tied together by this beautiful thing you two created, he didn’t even want children before you told him you were expecting but his whole world view changed when he realized that he not only had you to protect but a baby as well.

but you’d moved out against his wishes, finding a small flat you like and making it home for you and baby. he would come over sometimes, when he could, and spend some time with baby but honestly he felt more like some glorified uncle, would be convinced he was nothing to this child until he saw those brown eyes staring back at him, the ones that are so completely his, and he comes to the conclusion that this isn’t gonna work.

he starts small, coming over once a week instead of every other weekend, takes the two of you out for dinner instead of letting you cook or ordering in. stays late enough that you offer him the spare bed in the guest room, even with the distance you’ve put between yourselves, you can’t help but care for him, knowing nobody else will.

then he puts more pressure on you, making sure you see just how valuable he is, taking night shift feedings and waking up early with baby when they’re fussy. he offers to take baby for the night so you can go out with your friends, do things you haven’t been able to since baby’s arrival, even pays for a spa day for you to really relax. he stocks your fridge, full of the snacks you love and a bottle of wine for the hard nights. he buys and sets up new decor in the house, finally gets you the pretty white vanity and a new washing machine that doesn’t squeak. he really just does what he considers ‘husband duties’, things that he should have been doing this whole time.

and when you don’t budge on the separation, he goes nuclear, “no, love, i haven’t seen your birth control pills”, “look how cute this baby is, remember when ours was that small, sweetheart”, “you’re so stressed darling, let me help you” which basically means you end up getting rawdogged within an inch of your life, condom long forgotten, one of simons hands held over your mouth to muffle the sounds you’re making. he just hopes he’d tracked your cycle right, that you’re actually ovulating, because you can’t possible refuse his ring after having two of his babies right? you wouldn’t do that to him, would you pet?

[emitowrites]

I am so fucking into you

I've written the fic! I did the thing!! Give it a read here if this sounds like the sorta thing you're into:

Spidey and DP meet and start patrolling together. Bugle employee Peter Parker photographs Deadpool, and they go on a date. It’s all going well, except Wade doesn’t know why Spidey’s started being really flirty back when he’s finally got someone else interested? Why does the universe do mean things to him?

The first scene I wrote, which is actually the ending scene of the fic, was based on the above fricking incredible image that @buboloboogie made. Like, fucking look at it? Are you kidding me with this????? Of course I was inspired by it?? TYSM @buboloboogie for the inspo and for letting me use your art!

It was also inspired by @ksmin-canread's song rec of All Bad by Devon Cole... thank you again Ksmin-canread for the absolutely wonderful rec.

Oh and ALSO civilian photog Peter meeting DP was inspired by this post, originally by @shipverse here.

Sneak preview of the ending (and uhh, soz for the spoiler, I guess? But yeah, they kiss 😏) below:

(Oh so, for context: Wade's inner monologue was inspired by the comics, where there's a yellow speech box and a white speech box for his thoughts. In this fic I use [this style] for the white box character (who's snarky and mean) and {this style} for the yellow box (which are Wade's own thoughts). Hope that's not too confusing!)

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

Wade approaches their scheduled meeting place one night, but the alley’s deserted and Spidey’s nowhere to be seen.

“Spidey-babe?” 

“Up here, DP.” Wade cranes his neck up, and there's Spidey! He's dangling from a web above him, peering down at him, and Wade suddenly remembers seeing a movie just like this once. 

{Shit, that scene was so hot.} 

[Wasn’t that movie set in another universe?]

{Yeah, but hotness transcends universes, just like me! And, fuck, was it hot!}

[Think we could convince him to recreate it with us?] 

“Oh shit, Spidey, come down here a little more will ya?”

“Huh, what for?” Peter tilts his head to the side slightly, curious. 

“I just wanna try something.” He makes grabby hands towards Peter, who hesitatingly lowers himself until he’s within grabbing distance. Wade pulls him a little further down, bringing their chins to align. He peels up the bottom half of his own mask and then reaches out to do the same to Peter, slowly revealing his chin from the bottom half { ...top half really, with this position...} of the mask. Wade pauses, taking in the surrealness of the moment - that Spidey actually trusts him enough to do this - and then, achingly slowly and agonisingly, gently presses his lips to Peter’s. Peter’s hands come up to hold his face, sweetly, lovingly, and kisses him back. 

[After all that, and it’s kinda lame actually?]

{Oh, fuck off, it’s not lame! Let me have my moment.} 

Clearly Peter doesn’t think it’s lame either, because he gets fucking into it. He groans, and desperately pushes into Wade’s mouth, tongue sweeping against Wade’s lips and seeking access. Wade tilts his head in response, allowing them to slot their mouths together more thoroughly. It’s not enough for Peter as he makes a frustrated kind of noise and pulls back.

“Wha..” Wade starts to say, but then Peter lets go of his web and flips upside down {or is it rightway up?} . He urges forward, pins Wade roughly against the wall, and kisses him frantically, grinding his hips into Wade’s. Wade can feel exactly how into this Peter is, and he moans into Peter’s mouth. 

“That was the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.” Peter says, breathlessly, kissing Wade again. 

“I am so fucking into you.” Wade groans. 

“I am so fucking into you, too.” 

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

Hope you liked it! 💚

totally not based on a tiktok that i saw at all no that would be crazy

me when i am in love them fr

[bloodfiendarling]

𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓾𝓹

— ( do note this ask was sent before my rules post was out but ill let it pass bcz it doesnt break any rules )

ah hello ! !! this is the first time im writing for jingyuan sama ..! hopefully its to your liking anon .. <:D tho i did self indulge a lil much on this ... hopefully you still like it x_x

also , yes .! i love ryona . i dig it a lot .. please dont b scared to req anything with dark themes .. i will be cheering you on !

pair — reader x jing yuan

wc — ~1k

contains — sub bottom char, dom top reader, established relationship, gn reader, possessive reader, jealousy, (false) cheating suspicions, reader is kinda fucked up in the head, size difference (smaller reader), thigh humping, dry humping, reader is pretty forceful

you couldn’t stand it.

the way he would ignore you sometimes, when you two just wouldn’t be able to have some pda for the sake of his reputation. it pissed you off.

you want to love him! show him off, maybe. hug him, kiss him, hold his hand.. all in public. but you can’t — because he has a reputation to uphold here. and what made you more mad is the fact you’d hear your own colleagues talk about him. how they want to get with him.

what pissed you off the most about today, though? you heard someone spreading rumors. dating rumors. not between you and jing yuan, no. (you would’ve appreciated that, really) it was between him and some other woman — one that he’s been working with for a good while.

you clicked your tongue, entering his office. even just from your face it was obvious you were in a horrible mood.

“oh?” he started, with that usual lazy smile of his — “my dear, something on your mind?”

he shifted in his seat, adjusting himself so you could sit yourself beside him — which, you do — letting out a tired sigh. “rumours about you again, love.” you respond.

“mm, it’s the one with that woman, i assume?”

you click your tongue again. just hearing anything related to her set you off — c’mon, now.. it’s not like they’re actually together.. your dearest would never, ever betray you in such a way.

but you see the way that woman was — how she was smiling and all. laughing those rumors off, all while clearly enjoying the attention she got. it disgusts you. it worsens your mood more and more as you thought about it.

the general could sense your frustration — almost as if he read your mind. his expression softened a little bit, this time looking at you. watching you biting on your nail, whilst the other hand was balled into a fist, resting on your thigh.

“hey,” you looked back at him. the frustration was clear in your eyes. even you, yourself didn’t get it. what were you so angry about…? you can’t help but take it out on him. “you love me, right, jing yuan?”

“of course I do.” he replies — it’s short. it’s obvious. but in your messed up little head, it felt like nothing but a lie.

“prove it.”

“wha–?”

“prove it, i said.” you lean into him, a hand against his stomach. the gold part of his belt felt cool against your palm. for a second, it gives you shivers.

“here..?” the general’s voice was filled with uncertainty. “the door is still unlo–”

“that doesn’t matter.” you interrupt, “they’re not allowed to come in, right? locked or not. just tell them to leave if someone knocks. simple.”

jing yuan gulped down, eyeing the door once more before giving in — fumbling with his belt. slowly but surely getting that corset-like piece of armor loose and discarding it completely.

he’s so obedient whenever you were mad…

“c’mere.” you pat on your thigh, inviting him to sit on it — he does, obeying you. you were upset, he didn’t want your mood to go even lower. though, due to jing yuan being bigger than you, he was quite hesitant on putting his entire weight — he knows he’s quite heavy.. but you insist he sits down properly.

he felt shy all of a sudden — putting his hands on your shoulders, nuzzling his face into your neck. you didn’t know if this shyness was a result of the position, or the fact the door was very much unlocked — maybe both.

you had a hand on his lower back, as if inviting for the white-haired general — your free hand decided to run through his hair. it’s so soft… how could you not?

jing yuan lets out a whimper, hips moving on his own. slowly but surely running them up and down your thigh. his own legs shaking. you slip your hand into the side of his pants — feeling around his waist. he jolts at your cold hands, letting out a small gasp. those hands of yours continue to trace through his body, feeling his breath grow a little faster. feeling all over his back, his hips, his waist, him. just him.

you wanted to escalate this, though, you heard something. something he feared. a knock at the door.

“jing yuan, sir?”

a voice is heard, calling to the general. you could clearly hear his breath hitch. “a– ah.. who—nnh–!”

those hands of yours continued to tease him. featherlight touches all over his body, teasing him by slipping your hands into his pants every now and then — watching your darling general explain why the person couldn’t come in — stuttering on his words, trying to reason with them..

you felt mean today. you were in a shitty mood, after all.

he lets out a sigh of release when they finally decide to go — whoever that was leaving his office alone for another time. finally, he gets to calm down.

“i love you.” you whisper into his ear suddenly, “you love me too, right? you wouldn’t go for that woman, right? right?”

why did you doubt him, even?

you don’t know, nor did you care. all you wanted to hear was an ‘i love you, too’ from the general.. your general.

his weight was kind of crushing you.. but you didn’t mind it much. you pressed a kiss onto his neck, sucking into it to form a hickey. then another… and another. it didn’t take too long for his entire neck to be covered by them. you loved it.. marking him up as yours (as if wasn’t already..)

“m’gonna–” his grinding was growing a bit more desperate — damn, already?

“go on. show me how much you love me.” — those words made him whimper, closing his eyes. you pulled on his hair, yanking his head so jing yuan was looking at you — grabbing his face with one of your hands and inviting him into a messy kiss — tongue being forcefully shoved into his mouth.

“i love you, i love you, i love you.. mmMH—!” he said between eager gasps, feeling his orgasm washing over him. you could, too — that warm feeling on your thigh.

he wraps his big arms around you, moans being muffled by the kiss. he just couldn’t get enough, can he? he wouldn’t even care anymore if someone came in and saw him this way. neither did you. at least they’d know you were his.

“i love you, darling. please ruin me..”

hsr masterlist ♥︎

[joongieology]

Muse | Jung Wooyoung

Pairing: Artist!Boyfriend!WooyoungxReader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.2k

Warning: mention of naked body

Sypnosis: Your boyfriend has been busy with his gallery, leaving you missing him. One thing you didn't know though, he had a surprise waiting for you.

Note: This is the first ever fanfic I've written. English is not my first language so please bear with me. If you have any feedback, please let me know! I swear I tried ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

You've been dating Wooyoung for a few years now. Everything is well, better than you could ask for, but you wish you could move on to the next stage. You've always dreamt of getting married in a church since you were a little girl. Striving hard so you can save up for a grand wedding, wanting you and your future husband's day to be extra special. And now, you finally found the man you want to marry.

You met Wooyoung through your college friend, San. You went to get coffee at your usual hangout place—a café near the university—when you saw San with someone. You proceeded to where they were sitting and San invited you to sit with them.

That was the day you met Wooyoung, and that was also the day you started liking him. He was very chatty and he always made you laugh that you started to have a little crush on him. The three of you began to hang out more often, and then one day, he asked you out. You said yes, of course (who wouldn't), and you've been dating since then.

He had always been fond of art. Painting, photography, and even sculpting. He wanted to have his own gallery one day, to show off his works, and it is about to come true.

Wooyoung found a decent place where he could set up the gallery and renovate it to his liking. He was the one who worked on everything, claiming he wanted everything to be perfect. That meant, you don't see each other often because he got busy with his gallery. He never told anyone the location, not even you, which you found a little odd, but never questioned him.

You just finished eating when he showed you something on his phone. It's a map with a picture of what looks like the outside of a gallery.

"It's done. The grand opening will be tomorrow." He started, gauging for your reaction.

"Already?! Does anyone else know about this? What if I'm the only one who shows up?" You flooded him with questions, more nervous than he is.

"Don't worry, I already sent out invitations to friends and family." He said with a chuckle while piching your cheeks, clearly amused.

You sighed, relieved that you wouldn't be the only one to witness this. You want the world to see how talented your boyfriend is, and he worked hard for everything to get to this point. Even though he said this was just a small achievement, you were still so proud of him. He can finally show off his love for art.

"You're here." Wooyoung said as he leaned in to kiss you on the cheek. You came a bit earlier than the time of the opening so you could be by his side.

"Finally, you got your own gallery. I'm so proud of you, Woo." You gave him a peck on the lips, earning you a small genuine smile from him.

You straightened the collar of his button-up and fixed his hair a bit to make him look more presentable. He smiled at you but you noticed that he looked a bit nervous. You held his hand and squeezed it, comforting him. He intertwined your fingers and guided you to the entrance.

After a while, people started to arrive one by one, family and friends, and even some random people who had taken an interest in what was happening in this new place.

Everyone was in awe at the simple yet elegant interior. The walls were off-white and the art pieces were placed perfectly. Everything is in the right place, the way they were arranged was pleasing to the eyes.

You looked around and noticed that the art pieces consisted of pictures and paintings of places very familiar to you—they were places you've been together before. There are also pictures and paintings of events that have transpired in your life. The memories came flooding in as you looked at each art piece. You looked around once more, you noticed a black screen in the middle of the gallery. It's off, what is it for? You asked yourself but brushed it off. One thing stood out though, it was a pink door leading to a room. It had its own spotlight, it also had a name on top, just like every piece here.

"Y/N." You read out loud. Why did it have your name on it? Also, why is it pink, your favorite color? And why does it have the word 'Private' beside the door?

Wooyoung was greeting everyone and thanking them for congratulating him when he noticed you looking at the pink door. He walked over to you and put his hand on your lower back.

"Wanna see what's inside?"

"Yes." You responded, curious as to what could be inside.

He took out what seemed like a remote from his pocket and pressed something on it while guiding you inside.

There were at least five of what you assumed were art pieces covered in red velvet blankets.

He removed the cover of the one on the left, revealing a painting of you grinning from ear to ear, holding a pack of your favorite gummy bear, with the name beside it, 'The most beautiful v(you).' This must've been the time he brought you your favorite snacks, that made you all excited.

Then, he removed the cover on all of them except the one in the middle. There was a picture of you sleeping, a painting of you gazing at the stars, and a sculpture of you, as in you, in your wholeness, naked body.

"Oh my god, Woo." You said, your voice small, overwhelmed with joy, and love, and—everything.

"Do you like it?" He asked, nervousness obvious in his tone.

"I love it!" You exclaimed as you hugged him.

"There's one more." He ushered you to get closer to it. When he finally removed the cover, you covered your mouth in shock.

It was a sculpture of him, on one bended knee, holding a small black velvet box. Woo took the box and copied the stance of the sculpture.

"Y/N, will you make me the luckiest man and marry me?"

It's finally happening. The man you love is proposing to you.

"You've given me all I could ever ask for. Yes, baby, I will marry you." You utter with tears in your eyes.

He carefully puts the ring on your ring finger, and yes, he bought your dream ring, he still remembers it even when you mentioned it only once, he remembered, like he always did.

He hugged you so tight you thought you would burst, and whispered, "I love you so much, my love. Thank you for everything."

"I love you more, Woo."

You went out of the room and everyone's congratulating you both.

Huh?

When your eyes caught the now turned-on screen in the middle. So that was what the remote was for.

"Woo!" You hit his arms slightly. Terrified of the thought that they must have seen the pieces inside.

"It only showed us, don't worry, I won't ever show those pieces to anyone, especially that one." He chuckled while jokingly shielding himself from your playful hit.

"Finally, Woo, you prepared so long for this. Congratulations." San said with a big smile, holding a glass of wine.

"You knew?" You asked San with one eyebrow raised.

"Yup, everyone knew, except you." He uttered with slight amusement in his tone.

Wooyoung sure knew how to throw surprises because you didn't expect this one bit. But you're happy he did, cause this became one of the best days in your life. The thought of marrying this man made you giddy.

Your mom hugged you and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm quite curious to know what's inside that." Your mom said, pointing at the pink door.

You and your fiancé looked at each other with knowing eyes and a huge grin.

[clemswinecorner]

I get satisfied [Harry Lewis/W2S]

Summary: Chris’ camera woman- and by now, also the boys’ friends- and Harry get teased about their dating life. No one seems to notice they’re saying exactly the same, though. 

Wordcount: 661

Warnings: swearing probably, nothing major

This is third person instead of reader pov, but it's still x reader :))

Main Masterlist

It was were in-between takes of Chris’ latest video, Chris figuring out some things with the team that had to do with the challenges and editing. As one of the camera people she wasn’t too involved, the setup being clear from the get-go, so she was leaning against the fence sipping from a water bottle. She was listening to the conversations happening, occasionally laughing at the boys messing around and their idiotic tendencies, but mostly just looked at Harry. Seeing Harry with his friends was one of her favourite things, seeing him be his carefree, unhinged self. The conversation starts with Danny commenting on Harry’s sex life, saying “Oh, you’ve been getting it good recently, haven’t you,” with a laugh. Harry looks down embarrassed, but with a grin on his face, and shoots the girl a look before answering. “Yeah, yeah, I have, actually,” he confesses, and a slight blush appears on her face. None of the boys are looking her way, which she’s especially grateful for when they ask Harry to specify. “Yeah, mate, you know. Just a nice girl, absolutely beautiful and very much does the right things,” the boys all cheer, surprised Harry’s let out something about a possible relationship, with the girl's cheeks only growing redder. “So, you’ve got a girlfriend now or what?” Joe asks, and Harry frowns, subtly looking her way. The two make eye contact as he talks to boys about his situationship. “No, right now I don’t, we’re just messing around. But potentially, in some time, I could see something more happening,” Harry admits, looking her way to catch her reaction. A small smile appears on her face, though she’s surprised at what he’s saying, since they’d never really talked about it like that. It was very casual, on the low, friends with benefits, but you’re not close friends outside your little thing type of thing. She sort of hoped for something more, but was also happy where she was— she just didn’t know Harry felt the exact same. She’s too distracted thinking about what she should say to Harry later that day when her name was being called. She wasn’t even sure how the conversation got to that point, and she was especially confused how she all of a sudden got involved. Yes, after working with Chris for ages she’d befriended some of the boys over time, and yes, she’d rant about her dating life, but they’d never asked— not in a way like this, at least. “What about you, Y/N, you still looking for a man?” Ethan nods her way, and a grin appears on her face. “Not really, no,” she simply says, not elaborating any further. “What, you’ve found someone?” All you can do is shake your head before Ethan continues, “Or are you saying you don’t need a man to get off?” He laughs as some of the boys groan at his bluntness, her eyes widening. “I get satisfied just fine, thank you,” she just says, and Harry has to hold in a smile. “Just fine, is the bar that low?” George jokes, making the girl chuckle as she moves away from the fence. “No, he's more than fine, I can assure you I’m very well taken care of,” she declared, and Ethan's laugh changes from a joking to a somewhat surprised one. “Oh alright then. We’ll see him when you’re ready,” he comments, and she sucks in a breath. “Don’t think that’ll happen yet mate, very on the down low still, don’t want him intimidated by you lot,” Harry lets out a suspiciously loud chuckle, and looks her way with a daring look in his eyes. She shoots him an innocent smile back, before shifting her attention to Chris, who came her way. “Bet you’re jealous of that lad, huh, Bog,” Ethan teases, having seen Harry checking out their friends more than he could count. Harry simply shrugs, “Seems like we’re both happy how it is, mate.”

[entomologistt]

Where do they keep a picture of you?

Featuring: Alice DeRoss, Frederick Kreiburg, Melly Plinius, Orpheus DeRoss, and Norton Campbell (separate headcanons)

Ento note: Basically ashes of memory gang, yeah. I love them. I wrote this on the verge of passing out... First written post too!! ^^ Gender neutral reader!!!

Alice DeRoss

Goodness, she has so many pictures of you! All taken with the camera she always has with her. Where does she keep them? She definitely has a whole scrapbook dedicated to pictures of you and the two of you together! With dates and notes.

But on her person, she keeps a special picture of you in her purse to carry wherever she goes. When she has the time to herself, she often takes it out to admire you, a fond smile on her face.

It’s one where she caught you off guard during one of your dates. She thinks it really captured your natural radiance, your most natural, most prettiest smile without being encouraged by the camera… Which is why it’s her favourite!

She can’t wait to capture more of you!

Frederick Kreiburg

Frederick is considered a paranoid person, and although you may not be a secret, he doesn’t want you dragged into his problems. But he definitely has a picture of you on his person. It’s kept safely in a secret compartment of his coat; it can only be accessed by him.

So when he gets into that spiralling state, when none of his musical compositions sound or look right, a sea of crumbled papers surrounding his space— yeah, he needs something to get him out of there. So that’s with his tuning fork, the echoing soundwaves clearing his thoughts, silencing those “ghosts” …

And looking at the picture of you, the one he keeps so dear. It inspires him, the captured feelings he has for you eventually turned into beautiful piano symphonies.

You are his muse, after all.

Melly Plinius

Melly keeps you in her hat. She likes you, and she likes hats, so it’s the perfect combination. Her two favourite things in one, how lovely. In that little space inside with the stitches, so it's basically kept as snug as a bug.

It’s a picture of you on a picnic you’d set up for the two of you, a surprise from you when you tagged along on one of her entomological studies. Out of all the insect and flower pictures taken on that camera, the picture of you had to be the best, her lovebug.

However, she doesn’t always carry it—only when she travels. When she’s not, she puts it in a frame or somewhere it can be protected. She doesn’t want to lose it, it’s her favourite.

She deeply appreciates you and your sweetness.

Orpheus DeRoss

Orpheus wouldn’t keep you on his person. No, he has to keep you a secret; he has to be careful. But you are his darling lover; he has to have at least one, so he keeps your picture hidden away in a journal. Like a bookmark.

In fact, this journal is filled with a bunch of writings or poems about you. It’s all dedicated to you, all the thoughts of you he has written down while away from you. He misses you.

Maybe, just maybe, one day he’ll give and show it to you… When the time is right.

He’s running out of pages to spill his heart on.

Norton Campbell

There are two places Norton might keep your picture. Like Melly, somewhere on his mining hat, or simply in his pocket. He doesn’t have the luxury of being fancy with it. Wherever it is, he treats it like it’s the last thing he has of you, so it's definitely treasured.

So when it slips out onto the ground, he’s quick to chase and grab it before they can. He can handle the teasing and remarks of his cruel co-workers, he doesn’t care, as long as he still has that picture of you in his possession.

It’s you that keeps him going, along with… other things. He has his own goals, yes, but is it so bad to want light in the darkness of this hellhole?

You make him believe that kindness still exists.

[xxgoldie]

MY LOVELYYYY!!!! CONGRATULATIONS!!!!!! 100 FOLLOWERS?? im so proud of you!!! gosh 🥹🥹

may i request mammon with S??? i know hes one to show off his most coveted and prized possessions :3

HERES TO MANY MORE FOLLOWERS MY DEAR!!!! 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷 kisses 4 my goldie 🥹

THANK U LOVEY !!!! and thank you for the excuse to talk about mammon hehehe I love him your honour

main event page - event masterlist

S: Show-off - do they like to show off to their s/o?

Mammon is a show-off to his Core. He tries to act subtle about it, like he's just naturally so cool and he doesn't even need to try, of course you're smitten! But not-so-secretly, he lives off of your praise, he basically glows at every compliment, even if it's given through giggles at his antics. He'd definitely challenge his brothers and random demons to arm wrestles when you're around, especially if you've shown attraction to his strength/arms (n how could u not). If he loses (which he does sometimes, its becoming his mission to beat Beel), pls comfort him n tell him that naturally he must have let them win, the Great Mammon isn't just strong but also benevolent (n u got a nice look at his arms either way), it'll cheer him right up. In the end, what he really craves is reassurance and your eyes on him.

He'll also show you off constantly. He will always refer to you as his human + he loves public dates and PDA so he can brag to the whole Devildom how amazing you are and that you're His. He'll deny it if anyone brings it up, but if you listen to his flustered grumbling, he definitely said something about how it's normal to want to flaunt his treasure. Also, it comes with the territory of dating the Avatar of Greed, but he loves making sure everyone knows you're spoken for. He is the second born, you could count on one hand the amount of demons for whom it wouldn't be a death wish to mess with something he cares about, but he likes seeing when they wish they could. Its very much a "you can look, but don't even try to get close" dynamic.

(side note, he gets so flustered and sappy when you're the one showing him off. but I fear I am rambling already)

[ghostgirl-22]

omg! omg! omg! do you have ideas on older jealous art? like what if he saw patrick on the date with helen at the hotel instead? or maybe saw patrick on a date with another man (grosu? 👀) and got really upset but didn’t understand why!

Oh yes, oh yes….<3

I think Art goes in the sauna, yes that sauna. But it’s before they ever meet up the night before they play the final.

CW: NSFWish, 18+

Summary: in which Art has a Karen moment because how dare you try and take his man—that he really doesn’t want (he promises). And no he doesn’t know what he’s weirdly sexually confused about. But it’s not that.

-/-/-/-

Art’s winning again. He’s mostly playing kids who are just so happy to be there or sad older guys who are so jaded and defeated about the idea of playing him that they’ve beaten themselves before Art even has to do anything. But still he is winning and it does feel good.

He’s trying to put the idea of Patrick out of his mind. Tashi tells him every single day, “He’s never going to make it to the final. He’s gonna choke. That’s his thing.” But Art notices every round he wins Patrick wins too.

His body is sore and he always feels better in the heat but being who he is in the tennis world he usually waits till really late at night to relax in the sauna. He’s sure no one else is going to be there so he’ll get a moment of peace and quiet without any of the younger players gawking over him or asking him career questions. But as soon as he pushes open the door he realizes he’s not alone at all. Patrick’s sitting on the bench and he’s not alone. He’s got some guy kneeling between his legs. The guy quickly gets to his feet when he hears the door and Art recognizes him vaguely from the draw. Victor Grasi or Grossi. Something.

The guy wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and Patrick—very slowly— pulls the towel over himself, offering Art a smirk.

Art can feel his skin heating up. He wants to turn and run but he can’t move. His stomach is suddenly swooping around like he’s riding a rollercoaster. He didn’t know Patrick did stuff like that… with boys.

“What’s up Donaldson?” Patrick says brightly, like Art didn’t just catch him with some stupid pretty boy between his legs. “I’ve been meaning to come see you.”

Art glares at him still struggling to form words. He hasn’t seen Patrick this close in so many, many years. He still smiles with his eyes but they crinkle now with age and around the edges of that smile he looks like he might be tired(sad?). And not just from lack of sleep. His hair’s shorter, skin darker the way it always was in the summertime. It makes all his freckles that much more visible. Art hates to admit the facial hair looks kinda good on him.

His body looks good too… Art’s eyes drift downward over where the towel is covering his very hard dick.

”I am so sorry Mr. Donaldson I’m a big fan. I think you are so talented. Not many Americans can win on clay,” Whatever his name is saying with a thick accent Art can’t place. It pulls Art out of whatever daze he was in. God was he just staring? Why was he fucking staring? He looks at Patrick’s face again and he’s looking at Art, amused. Smug.

Art’s annoyed all over again.

“And your game against Padilla.” The kid is still talking. “That was so good. I rewatched it twice. You’re so—“

“Thanks,” Art interrupts, his tone clipped. He’s not sure why he’s suddenly irritated with his presence. This dumb kid, probably 24 or 25, pink cheeks, perfect body just on his knees for…

“Didn’t he beat you yesterday?” Art asks, meanly, with a smirk.

His pretty little face goes stormy and Art feels a cruel internal joy when he sees it.

He mutters something in another language but Art’s certain it’s a swear word.

“I just—it was a bad day. I’m ranked much higher than him.” The kid tries to recover but he’s clearly embarrassed.

“Sure, exactly. It was just a bad day, Grosu,” Patrick chimes in, smiling as he rubs himself idly. “Lemme make you feel better.”

“You’re no good for me, Zweig.” The kid mutters.

“That’s not what you said last night,” Patrick smirks up at him.

Art’s jaw sets with irritation. Especially when Patrick’s grabbing at the kid’s waist and pulling him closer. Art’s not trying to look but for whatever reason his eyes trail back down. Probably because Patrick is just so insistently hard. And he’s touching it, just casually touching it.

The weirdest part is the way Art can feel his own balls tightening. It makes no fucking sense. He can’t possibly be getting hard. He’s one fucking step away from talking to his doctor about Viagra because he can’t get it up for someone as fucking beautiful as his wife and right now on a random night in the middle of the sauna is when he’s just ready to go. Brilliant. It’s like the universe just enjoys finding new ways to fuck with him.

The kid has forgotten about him, mesmerized by Patrick. Letting Patrick just touch him, all over. Art feels like his blood is boiling hotter than the room. He hurries outside without another word before the way his cock is swelling becomes visible to them. Not that they fucking care.

He’s barely made it into the locker room toilet stall when he’s leaning against the door jerking himself stupid. The whole thing is so fucked because in his head he’s imagining Patrick’s hands all over him. Touching him. Fucking him. Not that stupid pretty boy loser. Fucking loser. Fucking loser. Fucking loser. His mind chants over and over, not sure if it’s about the kid or Patrick or himself. All the while his hand is racing over his dick, so desperate until he’s coming hard, spraying his load all over his hand and the toilet seat. “Oh fuck,” he gasps.

Because what the fuck is he doing? He’s too old for this shit. Mind games and lust and weird teenaged flirting. He needs to go home to his wife and kid. He’s a grown up. He has responsibilities. Patrick’s still a fucking child. Just doing whatever he wants. Just fucking whoever he wants. Like Tashi. It’s been years and it still stings. And now some stupid fucking boy sucking his dick when anyone could just walk in. It’s offensive. Art should probably complain. Tell that loser kids coach or whoever he’s working with that he needs to focus and maybe not fuck around with someone like Patrick Zweig. He cleans up quickly and hurries to go wash his hands.

He spots movement behind him in the mirror and turns to see Patrick walking from the lockers towards the shower. Naked. With only a towel on his head. God how long was he in here? Did he hear Art?

Patrick stops to smirk at him. He’s not hard anymore which means he probably fucked the kid. It’s still so fucking big even when he’s soft. Art swallows. “What do you want?” He manages.

“Nothing. You just look pretty flushed. Are you okay?” He says, grinning (like he knows what Art did). “I thought you went home.” He wraps the extra towel he’s got draped over his shoulder around his waist, covering himself and Art relaxes a bit.

“I am going home,” Art says. “Where’s the dumb kid?”

Patrick laughs, “You know he’s 27, right.”

“Well he’s still a loser,” Art shrugs. He doesn’t care. He hopes he never sees him again. (And that Patrick doesn’t either).

“God, must feel good to walk around with all that power. He got so in his head from your little comment. He wanted to go home. Didn’t even want to finish. It’s like he didn’t even remember how much fun we had last night after drinks.”

Art’s not sure how to take any of that. On one hand he’s mildly satisfied that he sent the kid into a tailspin, but still fucking irritated that he… that he what… that he got to fuck Patrick in the first place? This is so fucked. He can’t want this. He cannot want this.

“Well you’re not dressed yet.” Patrick continues, casually. “You sure you don’t want to join me and clean up in the shower?”

“I uh— uh—“ Art stammers, while he white knuckles the towel on his waist, his heart rate picking up and the distant feeling of arousal that he’d just conquered incredibly stirring again. He wants this. Fuck he wants this. “No I—“

“I’m just teasing,” Patrick shrugs, interrupting before Art can finish. An oddly melancholic expression flitting over his face. And then immediately back to being his usual carefree (careless?) self. If not a little more distant. Formal. “Good night, Donaldson, see you in the final.”

“Good night,” Art says, feeling his stomach sink just a little bit. He wishes he didn’t— but he believes it now with 100 percent certainty that Patrick is right— that they’re both going to end up there.

(Sorry anon that this took so long and also I apologize if this is what you were looking for. It’s been hectic so I didn’t have much time to get to into it— also wanted to leave a little space for canon to canon lol. Art is still so mad that he’s attracted to Patrick he needs to hurt him more 😭)

[thetwstwildcard]

"Nothing makes an android feel more useless than when a human is crying."

Full Name: Galatea Hexis

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Age: Died at age 17, however it took 2 years for her to gain consciousness in her new body and so she says she's "19"

Birthday: May 17th

Star Sign: Taurus

Height: 182 cm (roughly 5'11)

Eye Color: Periwinkle

Hair Color: Periwinkle

Dominant Hand: Ambidextrous

Voice Claim: Ayaka Suwa (Japanese) Amanda Winn Lee (English)

Inspiration: Hyacinthus

Homeland: Isle of Lamentation

Dorm: Ignihyde

Year: 3rd

Club: Science

Best Subject: Magic Analysis

Worst Subject: Animal Language

Favorite Food: N/A (formerly liked ypovrychio)

Likes: Her father, studying humanity, assisting her father, sunlight (even though she can't feel it's warmth), engineering, and the flickers of her past

Dislikes: Being unable to assist humans emotionally, when fellow students try to take her parts(the "inconvenience"), memories of her death, water, seeing how she looked like when alive, and not being able to control her strength

Personality: The monotone recreated daughter of the robotics professor, Aegis Hexis, accidentally killed by her love (Loxias Pythian) during a fight he had with her father. After much struggle Aegis was able to put her consciousness in an android that over time will hopefully become more human, her return to humanity having to be reexperiencing her death. She seves as a secretary in Ignihyde, though her father's work is quite astounding she has dealt with classmates trying to steal portions of her body for their own tests. Unlike Ortho she does not have emotions (in the beginning of the game) but develops them over time. She is very curious about humanity and "human things" though she is blunt (may/will hurt someone's feelings.)

"Unique Magic": Reverb: Allows her to concentrate sounds/amplify sounds to make projections. For example: she could amplify the sound of a pin dropping enough times to make someone physically pinned down by the "weight" of the noise. She can also increase the volume of the sound to "attack" someone audibly.

Trivia

The sole child of Aegis. His wife passed in childbirth so Galatea was "all he had left of her" which is why he was willing to go to such extremes to bring her back

She was dating Loxias at the time of her death, she was the one who made his new arm after he lost it in his "battle" with Veil.

When she first awoke she had no idea who she was, though now she is aware

While she has a better control on it now, she still does not fully understand her physical strength. She has crushed many an apple in her hand.

If anything she is just mildly inconvenienced when her dorm mates take her apart. She actually meets Yuu while missing an arm and leg, asking for assistance to her father's classroom

Her hair flames cannot burn someone, instead they feel warm to the touch and "wisp-y" (like smoke)

Upon meeting someone new she "must analyze" them, which involves her looking them over intensity and circling them

While she herself is emotionless, it doesn't mean her body is emotionless. For example she could smile and then question why she is smiling, or cry and question why she is crying

Her father is a son of Hephaestus, meaning she is his granddaughter (also why she's given a special privilege at a second chance in life)

When she was alive her eyes were green and her face was covered in freckles from always being in the sun.

[starrysturnz]

somebody waits for you…

pairing. prince!chris sturniolo x reader

summary. to maintain the secrecy of their relationship, chris and y/n don’t mingle much at the annual christmas ball. but his self control is only so powerful, and when he finds a secluded hallway lined with mistletoe, he can’t help but to give in to temptation.

warnings. angst if you cover your eyes with your hands and peek through the cracks.

word count. 1.3k

author’s note. posting the day after i was meant to… your honor i plead poor time management skills. (i’m currently on a trip, we got to the hotel later than expected LMAO i’m sorry.) but at least it’s only like 2:30am and i didn’t make you wait until the afternoon or smth! hoping this quality content makes up for the lateness. kisses!!

masterlist | taglist | starrysturnz’s christmas countdown

© starrysturnz. all rights reserved. dividers by @cafekitsune.

it was as though chris���s eyes were permanently glued to y/n’s figure across the ballroom, which was unfortunate for the girl currently vying for his attention. she was pretty, he could admit that, and truthfully she seemed genuinely sweet. goodness knows his brothers would scold him for ignoring her the way he was, but he couldn’t help it… he was a taken man.

not that anybody knew that. his parents would probably drop dead on their thrones if they found out one of their sons was dating a commoner. even if it was y/n, who’d grown up practically joint at his hip— her mother was the queen’s favorite florist, and her father the royal shoemaker (for many months after he’d stopped growing, chris continued to request new boots because his old ones “no longer fit”). they adored her, but she was expected to know her place, and chris his.

so they shared lingering glances across the busy banquet hall. sometimes, she sent a wink his way, maybe a flutter of her lashes. he’d respond with a quirk of his lips, and a look that she knew meant “later.” but later felt like forever away. he wanted to hold her now, in that dress that hugged her in all the right places, and kiss her painted lips. he wanted to drown in her perfume, the expensive one that he bought her for her birthday last year. she only wore it on special occasions, even though he repeatedly told her he would just buy her another one when it ran out. she was stubborn.

matt noticed his brother’s distracted stare, apologizing to the duchess on his arm as he pulled him away from her.

“hey,” he said, clapping his brother on the shoulder when they reached a secluded corner, “go take a walk, man.”

“what are you talkin‘ about, dude?”

the older prince sighed, rubbing his eye as he hesitated a bit (a habit his mother has given up on getting him to stop). “i know you want her… but you gotta be realistic. starin‘ at her like a stray puppy isn’t gonna help, so just go clear your head or somethin‘ and go back to talkin‘ to the duchess. and act like she’s actually there this time, okay?”

chris didn’t even have the chance to process matt’s words before he was walking back to his date. matt knew he liked y/n? maybe he’d been less slick than he thought. at any rate, he was right— chris could use a break from this ball. he definitely didn’t want to go back to talking to the duchess.

⁺⁎˚

it wasn’t long before the prince found himself in a long hallway, many doors down from any prying eyes. what was meant to be a relaxing moment of peace and quiet backfired due to his usual overthinking. he paced up and down the hall as his thoughts barreled through his mind at warp speed.

god! all he wanted was y/n. publicly. shamelessly. he wanted everyone to see her for who she was, not for her blood status. so what if she wasn’t royal? does that make a person unworthy of love? would he really have to do more of this— attending these ridiculous parties, meeting eligible noblewomen who bore him halfway into his grave, pretending to listen as they ramble on about their latest trip into the countryside? start dating one? propose? commit to a lifetime in an unhappy marriage, longing for somebody else?

lacing his fingers behind his neck, he leaned back into his palms. deep inhale through the nose. exhale through the mouth. repeat. repeat. repeat.

when chris opened his eyes again, his gaze fell upon a small plant hung at the base of the high sconce in front of him. white berries, round green leaves… mistletoe? he glanced down the hallway and noticed one strung upon each light fixture, smiling to himself at the mental image of their head maid, tiny woman that she was, securing them in place on her toetips.

and then the idea struck him.

⁺⁎˚

“chris!” y/n laughed, a warmth blooming in his chest at the sound, “where are we going?”

his fingers squeezed hers tighter as he shot her a mischievous grin over his shoulder, not letting up on his pace. anyone passing by would think they were in some kind of emergency, the way he was pulling her through the castle.

“jus‘ trust me, kid,” he assured her. “you’re gonna like it.”

y/n knew better than to pry. but when they arrived at their destination, it’s safe to say she was a bit confused. she turned to look at him quizzically, leaning back against the wall on her palms.

“it’s… a hallway.”

chris smiled, a playful glint in his eye. he took a step forward. “mhm.”

“don’t get me wrong, it’s a lovely hallway. i like the wallpaper.”

“that’s nice, baby,” he mused as he stalked closer to her, his hands landing on her hips, sliding up to her waist and squeezing the flesh there through the fabric of her dress. she couldn’t help but notice his gaze fixated on her lips.

“it’s just that i was about to grab a slice of the yule log, and—”

the girl’s sentence stopped short in a gasp as chris pushed her suddenly flush against the wall. he inched closer and closer to her face, until their lips were just barely brushing, teasing her. too anxious to move, she felt her eyes slip shut, anticipating the moment he’d bridge the gap between them.

but it never came. instead, she was startled to feel his thumb and forefinger trap her jaw gently in their grasp, ever so carefully tilting her head up at the dim light above them.

“open your eyes f’me, y/n,” chris whispered lowly in her ear. “what d’you see?”

it only took a second to adjust to the light before she realized. “chris…,” her palms found purchase on the prince’s chest, his heartbeat faint and his breathing even beneath his suit jacket. she was comforted by the feeling. “someone might see.”

a flicker of something unrecognizable flashed across his features before he spoke again, “i don’t care. please, let me.”

“you could get in so much trouble. you’re already pushing your luck, inviting a peasant to a ball. what would your parents think?”

chris’s brow furrowed as he traced his fingertips along her exposed collarbone. “you’re not a peasant. everyone gets a plus one, there’s no rule about who you can or can’t invite. my parents know you, and they love you. they know you’re my best friend, ’s not suspicious, i promise.”

y/n wasn’t quite convinced. they’d been so careful… was it really worth the risk?

“no one ever comes down here,” he tried again. “please. let me kiss you. let me kiss you, baby.”

her shy smile was all the confirmation he needed before his lips were on hers, soft but hungry, as though he physically couldn’t hold back any longer. his left arm wrapped around her waist as his right snaked up to hold the back of her head, flexing his muscles to pull her in as close as possible.

“angel,” he sighed against her, out of breath but going in for more, “god, you’re an angel.”

a stifled while fell from her lips involuntarily, and she had to pull away before things escalated. chris wouldn’t let her get far, though, resting his forehead against hers as they caught their breath together.

“thank you,” he whispered, savoring the moment he knew had to end soon. “dunno what i would’ve done if i had to wait any longer. i might’ve kidnapped you.”

she giggled, a melody to chris’s ears. “you kinda did, your highness.”

chris pinched her arm at the title, earning a small yelp in return.

“oh, by the way… i think matt might be onto us.”

[rosenclaws]

Hii congrats on 600 followers!!

I was wondering if i could get nr. 12 from the fluff prompts w Leopold?

“I never thought I’d be so lucky, especially not in this lifetime.”

Much love 💜💜

a/n: Its been a while since I've wrote for Leo!!! I miss him sm. I hope you enjoy this little fluff piece <33. I'm so sorry this took forever but Im finally getting to these ahslfd

wc: 602

600 follower drabble masterlist

It's been years since Leopold found himself in modern day New York. An unbelievable story that sounded absolutely ridiculous when he really thought about it. I mean, falling through a time rift? It was outlandish to even think of something like that. But somehow it happened.

He was Alice coming to wonderland, except this time it was all real. He was greatly unhappy back in his time. An Uncle who only cared for money and a looming loveless marriage. He wasn't exactly eager to get back. Kate and Charlie had helped him become acquainted with this world but it wasn't for another couple months that everything really clicked.

It was a random chance, he just happened to have wandered into the library, found himself in a random aisle, and bumped into you. Literally bumped. He was so engrossed in reading that he ran right into you. Making the stack of books in your hand go tumbling to the ground. He apologized profusely, bending down to help you clean when he looked up.

Call it cliché but when he met your eyes something changed. His heart leaped, seeing your adorable smile and kind eyes. You were incredibly kind, telling him that it was alright. He looked like a fool. Not being able to utter a single word as he was taken back by your beauty.

He spotted the name tag, you worked here. He introduced himself and took your hand, kissing your knuckles as he did so. You clamed up, at first he thought he had done something wrong as you squeaked out a thank you and practically ran away from him. He'd learn later that he had just flustered you until you couldn't think.

He kept going back and each time he'd find you there. Flirting with you until the day he finally asked you out. One date turned in to another which turned in to more and more.

In a blink of an eye Leopold life had been forever changed. Instead of the life his uncle wanted he's here. Married to the love of his life and working in a small antique shop. He loves it. He really does. Getting to tinker with oddities and finding homes for trinkets. Coming home to you every night. It was a dream.

"Leo? Are you alright?" He looks up from a book he had found at some shop, an old first edition. Though he really hadn't been reading anything. He must have spent too much time reminiscing. Your apartment was right above his shop so you must have been waiting for him.

"Apologies my darling, I was just thinking." He hums as you walk over and kiss him.

"What were you thinking about?" You ask as you brush his hair back, staring into the gorgeous eyes of your husband.

"It's just, I never thought I’d be so lucky, especially not in this lifetime.” He confesses.

When his parents passed he believed he was doomed to a life that was governed by others. His own happiness was an afterthought. But then he found this time, he found you. Now everything is changed and he sees himself growing old with you. Every day is better than the last.

"You're such a romantic Leo." You say with a smile. He stands up and kisses you gently.

"It's late my love, go to bed I'll be there soon." He hums.

He steals one last kiss before shooing you off. He takes a look around his shop before turning off the light. Ready to spend another night with you in his arms.

He really is the luckiest man alive.

[averygrambsbankaccount]

Can you write a lyrason fic,they in the grayson's birthday please.

yes sure! I decided to combine this request with this one and also change it a bit (oops!)

(yes I know I did spin the bottle instead of drink or dare) (im sorry that it’s bad)

spin the bottle!

Lyra and Grayson weren’t exactly dating, at least not in a way that the definition of the word dating covered. They tiptoed around each-other, sneaking longing glances, and maybe one or two more stolen kisses. Or three.

If Lyra was honest, she’s a bit tired of the game. Maybe she does just want Grayson, the arrogant asshole he is, to be her actual…boyfriend.

Grayson’s birthday party wasn’t planned by him, which was obvious if you’d ever met him. His hatred of people would have never allowed something like this. Clearly, his brothers had planned this as some kind of cruel joke on him, and now he had to stand there like a puppet in his thousand dollar suit and greet everyone they invited to the party.

Honestly, Lyra was pretty happy about her invitation. The party was actually fun. She’d never been to a rich person party before, and it was certainly something else.

Maybe the most fun part, though, was watching Grayson stand there uncomfortably, his strong shoulders stiff and his back as straight as a ruler. He greeted the weird rich people who walked past him into the surrounding area, full of fairy lights and tables and food. Whoever had designed this backyard pool type party was a genius.

Lyra sat at a table by herself, sipping some weird rich people drink she assumed had alcohol in it but wasn’t entirely sure about, and she watched the blonde Hawthorne pretend to be a people person.

It’s funny how he tries to hide his awkwardness, she thought.

Someone slid into the seat across from her, and it was none other than the Hawthorne heiress, holding a champagne flute. Her brown hair cascaded down her shoulders and she looked dazzling as ever.

“You should go over and talk to him, you know,” Avery said, looking down into the depths of her drink.

“And why would I do that?” Lyra crossed her arms and leaned back in the cushioned outdoor chair. Man, these things are comfortable.

“Because you like him. And he likes you. And this forced birthday party is a really good chance to make him less uptight.” The heiress took a sip of her champagne and wiggled her manicured eyebrows.

“No way,” Lyra picked at her nails. “…Do you really think so?”

It was no secret that Avery and Jameson and most other Hawthornes and Hawthorne adjacents shipped Grayson and Lyra, but Lyra wanted to hear confirmation from the girl sitting beside her.

“Totally!” Avery leaned forward. “Do you see the way he looks at you?”

Lyra bites her lip. “Yeah.” She says, but quiet enough that it’s possible Avery didn’t hear.

“Just…give it a shot, Lyra.” Avery stands and walk back towards Jameson, who’s talking to Xander by the pool.

Lyra takes a deep breath and one more drink of her maybe alcoholic drink and stands to walk towards the stoic blonde.

I can do this. I can do this. Lyra played encouraging messages on a loop in her brain.

“Grayson.”

“Lyra.” He turned to her, the barest of smiles on the corners of his lips, but that was often the best you could get out of Grayson Hawthorne.

“I-“ Lyra cut herself off, realizing she didn’t actually know what she was going to ask.

Her eyes scanned the area around them, landing on a group of younger attendees playing spin the bottle on the grass. Lyra wasn’t a particularly crazy party type person, but she did enjoy taking risks from time to time.

A smirk appeared on her face. “Come here, Grayson.” She grabbed his arm and led him over the group.

“Could we join, please?”

“Yeah, sure!” A girl in beautiful designer gown that was definitely getting grass stains at the moment said without looking up. When she did, she seemed absolutely shocked at the man standing with Lyra. “And…him, too?”

Lyra couldn’t blame her; no one would expect Grayson Hawthorne to play spin the bottle.

“No, no.” Grayson backed away shaking his head. “Sorry. There must have been a misunderstanding.” He gave Lyra a glare.

“Sorry, he’s shy.” Lyra smiled sweetly at them, then turned to Grayson.

“Could you please, please, please, please play?” She put her best puppy dog eyes, the ones she had only ever used on her mom for extra dessert. “For me?”

She didn’t give him a choice or a chance to respond. She simply dragged him to the ground beside her, in the empty space left in the circle and said “We’re playing.”

If Lyra could have taken a picture of Grayson’s surprised face in that moment, she would’ve framed it and hung it on her wall.

She gripped onto his hand as tight as she could, her knuckles going white. She would not back down, she’s gone too far. If she doesn’t commit, she’ll be just as much of a coward as she was before Avery convinced her.

Grayson kept trying to pull away, but she refused to give in.

The bottle was spun in the middle of the big circle. It landed on two random people, two more random people, and then…Lyra.

Her breathing sped up. I did not think this through, did I?

This might be the day Lyra becomes a devout worshipper, because only God could have given her the luck it required to have the bottle spun again and land on the man beside her; Grayson Fucking Hawthorne.

Lyra didn’t want to waste time, but she did stall a bit while turning to him. Even though they had kissed before, she was still inexplicably scared. 

Her courage came in remembering Avery’s words. She liked him and he liked her, and she could make this mean something.

She grabbed his face and kissed him to the sounds of the group cheering them on. He was silent before, but his lips were anything but. Grayson kissed her back fiercely. He kissed her like no one else was there.

When Lyra pulled back, she giggled, and she looked over to see Grayson having that familiar almost-smile on his face.

“Birthday boy!” The boy sitting beside Grayson clapped on the back and laughed. “Nice, man!”

Grayson didn’t respond to him or any of the others in the group cheering on his sudden break of character, instead just looking intensely at Lyra. All these people here knew him as the stoic business man who takes himself too seriously. So to see Grayson Hawthorne make out with a girl? In front of a crowd?

Well that’s a once in a lifetime chance. That’s something.

And when Lyra led him away and they went behind a wall and kissed again she knew it was something. When they kissed for so long they forgot where they were and her head was spinning and people were looking for Grayson to sing happy birthday, she knew it was something. When Grayson walked out with her, holding her hand and not even telling her to fix her smudged lipstick, she knew it was something.

[mandatory-blog-stop-asking]

I guess since I always write about X-Men when drunk, let me talk to you about Scott Summers.

Now look, Scott has a lot of haters, many of them my friends. I even agree with them. There's no easy way to take in Scott Summers. Because more than anything, Scott Summers is a question.

What do you do when they take it from you?

The answer can be many things. If you're Xavier, the answer is, you deny people their childhood. Scott, you're a child soldier by 13. You have just survived a traumatic plane crash in which your family seemingly all died. If you look at people, they die too, and it's your fault. You wear a literal filter to interact with everyone. Sometimes they tell you they're mad and you don't understand. The filter isn't thick enough. Xavier pats your head and tells you this is how it is. You have to be better. You have to be better than them. You have to be better than everybody.

If you're Magneto, the answer is your life. He had everything taken away from him so thoroughly, so long ago, that you, Scott, can't even fathom it. He's introduced to you while stealing nuclear warheads to threaten people who hate you. Every word Xavier has ever told you stings in your brain, like a worm. This is wrong. This is the enemy. He's doing it wrong. He's getting a bad grade at being a mutant. These feelings will poke at you for the rest of your life. You will come to disagree with them. By the time you're 40, you couldn't imagine a more steadfast ally than Magneto. He gets it, you see. No one else gets it like Max does.

If you're Jean Grey, the answer is fire. Create fire. Look for fire. Date a guy who can shoot fire from his eyes. Who can spit fire from his mouth and raise the dead with his words. Who can stand before the apocalypse and burn, burn as hard as fire can burn, as hot as a volcano, enough that the police are involved, that the Avengers are involved, that the gods are involved. Burn and burn and turn to ash and burn further until they stop telling you you're worthless. They never will. But Scott will never be one of them. He would rather burn everlasting than tell you you're less than what you think you are.

If you're Emma, it's kill them from the inside. Become part of the problem to make the problem go away. Meet the problem in their house. Fuck the problem. Buy the problem. Kill the problem by giving them a stroke. Emma thinks you, Scott, could be so much more. You could end the problem in a day, two days tops. You could rally them and radicalize them and make them see how insidious the problem is. But you never would. You tried, and it didn't agree to you. It got weird. You got weird.

If you're Logan, the answer is drinking. You drink and you try to forget, but you never do. You can't. You hang out with this guy, this beautiful, certain, consistent man, and you can't forget what you've lost, but you can make new memories. You can be someone else. You can put on a robe and lay down on a lazy chair and drink near Scott, overlooking the Earth, and you can think, I never want to forget this. I never want to not be here, with Scott, looking over everything. Feeling like I do, doing the things I do, having the relationship I do with him. But eventually it all goes away again, and you remember, right, I'm a violent person, I'm made for battle, I don't deserve love, I don't deserve Scott, I don't deserve anything. I deserve the woods. The wolves. The simplicity. The desire to forget, but never quite getting there. If you're Logan, you don't actually have an answer. Your whole life is a question without an answer.

And then you're Scott. You wonder what you should do when they take it from you. You're surrounded by people radicalized by their choices on how to react to that. You're radicalized by your mistakes. You're radicalized by the fights, the torture, the betrayal, the time in space, the time in hell, the time suffering. Every year of your life was the worst year of your life. Everything you've ever done is a thing to be mocked and used as a standard at the same time. No one knows who you are aside from the guy to listen to. You're 40. You're a father. You're tired. Your first instinct upon being given everything was gathering your family and moving; to the moon, even, where no one could hurt you. And then they took that away from you, too.

So, what do you do?

There's only really one answer.

You sigh, you put on the suit, you do some voice training, you call some friends. You do a speech. You suppress the feeling that it's futile, because that feeling is the oppressor, too. And you say it, like you've said it a thousand times, like you'll say it a thousand times more, like you were made to say, like you were taught to say, like your entire legacy will revolve around how you say this single phrase.

You will say this from your chest. You will say this when no one else is around and no one else is listening. You will say it because it's the right thing to say, and god damn it, at the end of the day, you will never acquiesce. You will never compromise. You will, in fact, always say it, for the rest of your life and beyond. When you're dead and buried and not coming back on the regular, people will still talk about how right you were when you said it, how righteous you sounded when you said it, and how certain you were when you said it.

You say it when they're attacking, you say it when you're attacking, you say it as a defense, you say it as a response, you say it as every figure of importance in your life has given way to compromise or disappointment; as everyone has left you, and has moved on, and has decided oppression doesn't equal a life poorly lived, and has asked you to lose their number because they can't do this anymore, it has taken too much from them and they don't want this to be their lives.

You say you understand, you lose their number, you stop relying on them, and you start saying it to others. Sometimes to people who are too young, but they get it. This is the only appropriate reaction, after all. You were Scott and you were 13 years old when you were a soldier. They can do that, too.

What do you do when they take everything away from you?

Scott Summers sighs and fills his chest with air.

When they take it all from you, Cyclops says "To me, my X-Men."

[kinardsevan]

I find the writing of 806 absolutely wildly awful. First, we have a date that is completely antithetical to what we've been shown a week before; we had an established couple who takes care of each other like it's the most natural thing in the world and evidently spends a lot of time together, we have Tommy 100% integrated in Buck's everyday life both on their own and with the 118 (the hospital scene, the birthday party for Chris) and all of a sudden we get Buck bumbling over a hot girl who doesn't say he's on a date (100% OOC) and who doesn't even know Tommy's gay and not bi. Second idiotic idea, Buck's answering yes to Josh's questions which are evidently things you would only say yes to if you loved someone (you don't put someone's happiness above yours if you're casually dating) and then randomly regurgitating that awkward speech instead of a very simple ' I love you' which he's had no trouble using before with other people. It just DOES NOT MAKE SENSE.

i feel like when y’all send me these messages, you’re expecting the long-winded responses at this point (at least I hope so 😂😂). EIther way, you’re about to get one lolololol.

I won’t disagree with you on the writing entirely. I don’t hate it as much as others do, mostly because I feel like I ~kindof understand what they were going for, but it wasn’t perfect by any measure. It left a lot to be desired, and I think what they were doing could’ve been achieved more effectively in other ways.

I also don’t think you’re wrong about how it feels antithetical, especially when we have Buck suggesting to Eddie in 705 that Tommy is gay, and we’re supposed to believe these two are spending all their spare time together, but are apparently not having real conversations during all that time. To that end, I can’t solve that issue for the writers. However, there are parts of your argument that I have counters to. 

For one thing, I don’t think we can knock the fact that even being in a committed relationship doesn’t stop the best of us from stumbling over ourselves when we see someone we’re attracted to. People get so upset about how Buck acts in this scene that they fail to appreciate the major points that I actually enjoy about it: Buck yes, looks, (and is obvious about it), but he apologizes to his boyfriend about it in a way that makes it clear that he’s not outwardly interested in the women. Tommy also tells him that it’s okay (and we know that there’s a deleted line from this scene where he mentions finding one of the waiters good looking). To that end, we get the distinction that while these two don’t have an interest in stepping out on each other, they’re not blind. 

People also get upset about the lack of Buck’s distinction that he’s on a date. And while there are a million different reasons to complain about it (or explain it away), I’m gonna go with the obvious answer of, he doesn’t owe some random woman in an italian eatery his personal life situation, especially in a place where he may not feel ready to express exactly how he defines himself. There’s a massive difference between accepting things about yourself and actually dignifying it out loud, and the fandom has been so quick to assume one requires the other. Buck knows he’s bisexual; he even knows his feelings for Tommy are deep. That doesn’t necessarily have to mean he’s put a label on who he is. Just speaking from personal experience on reaching a point where I’m comfortably labeling myself as queer,… I even struggle with that. Because people throw around all of these terms (bi, queer, pan, etc.), and it creates this pressure to say exactly what you are, which I don’t think is fair to real people, let alone a fictional character. Some might say his decision to not dignify it verbally suggests fear to, but I don’t think that’s the issue. 

Further, I think the issue of “he doesn’t know Tommy’s gay”… I don’t think that’s the intention with the question. When watching it back, first of all, you have to remember from a writing standpoint, they have to have an entry for how Tommy and Abby were (previously) inclined. Moreover, asking Tommy if he’s ever been with a woman is not the same as asking him if he’s gay. Those are two entirely different questions. I can literally cite from a book to you that I own (Guilded Razors by Sam Lansky) which directly discusses being involved with women even though he knew he was gay. Evan first says that he notices Tommy didn’t look at the women when he did. I imagine that trying to figure out how fluid he is in his own mindset towards both sexes makes it confusing to understand someone who is strictly straight or gay. I can’t conceptualize of it and I’ve known personally that I liked both since I was in middle school. So I don’t think it’s ridiculous for him to ask his boyfriend (who he later will distinguish as someone he’s extremely comfortable with, and would be comfortable asking those kinds of questions to) about his attraction (or lack thereof) to women. I also think it has more to do with the follow-up question (“have you ever been with a woman”). Sometimes we ask questions that we already have the answer to just so we can get to the follow-up. When you intersect that with the “How do we bring Abby in to the conversation” of it all, it makes sense. 

Second, I totally agree that Evan answering those questions points to him being in love with Tommy. When I wrote up my psychology breakdown of the break-up, I referenced two things which tell us they’re in love with one another. 

-The entire “we don’t have to go that far” exchange with Josh. I think there’s a lot to be said about the fact that with Evan still figuring himself out, maybe it’s hard for him to dignify being in love with Tommy verbally. I also think that when you’re an adult and you get into serious relationships like this, there’s a period of time where you’re in love with them but you haven’t put a label on it. 

-“If I were move in with you, you won’t mean to, you wouldn’t plan for it, but you’d end up breaking my heart. And I don’t think that I could deal with that.” THIS ENTIRE FUCKING LINE MY GOD. (Just rip my heart out LFJr.) 

However, I think your argument about the fact that he skips over the “I love you” and straight to “move in with me” negates some serious engagement with the source material. First of all, we have an acknowledgment that Tommy’s clearly responding from a place of trauma. He’s responding from a place of “I love you more and then lose you; better to lose you here and now by my own hand”. From Buck’s side, we’ve seen him struggle with being in love. He was in love with Abby and never got to tell her, and then was strung along for months until he finally ended things in a letter to her. He was left by Ali when she couldn’t deal with his “lifestyle” (job). Love may not have entered the equation there, but he was clearly serious about her. Taylor was messy for him, but he clearly felt deeply for her, and even that blew up in his face. There are competing schools of thought on whether he truly loved her or not, but at the end of the day, that relationship fell apart due to issues with trust. Natalia wasn’t around long enough for him to dignify anything towards her. 

And then there’s the mess with his parents. We’ve never had this acknowledged, but I struggle to believe that Evan grew up in a house where “I love you” was actually said out loud very much (if at all). Based on how absent we know Phillip and Margaret were (and are to some degree still), I feel like they probably lived by the attitude of “we may not have always said it, but we always felt it”….which isn’t really good enough as a parent. Your kids need to hear you say it, and they need to know it’s okay to say it back. When you don’t have that foundation, it’s hard to put those feelings into words towards others, even if you do feel it, because they might burn you. Evan has been burned, and even though we don’t know a lot of his backstory, we know Tommy has too. So while you argue that he’s used those three words towards others in the past, I counter with, did it feel this real? Did stand to lose as much? Because I don’t really view the relationship as Tommy being more in it than Evan is. I think we’re kind-of getting that “grew up in the same house but turned out different” trope.  We see Tommy as someone who wants to take care of the person he loves because he hasn’t had that before, while Buck fumbles his way through wondering if it’s okay to do those things because no one has really shown him how. There’s also been commentary on the fact that he asked Tommy to move in instead of saying “I love you” because this entire relationship has been grand gestures. I think there’s something dignifying in that choice. He’s telling Tommy he sees a future with him. He talks about things like marriage, but from Tommy’s end it reads as out of left field from someone who’s still figuring out who they are in their sexuality. I think (after watching the scene back), that Evan doesn’t necessarily feel that way about himself, but the same way he railroads Tommy with the starry-eyed future, Tommy kind-of does the same thing back to him with the breakup. It’s very…. “I pushed you five steps in the wrong direction and now you’re pushing me ten steps back” (for lack of a better metaphor). And I know people argue about the fact that this entire relationship has been so key with communication from day one, but those forms of communication have never required the two of them to get down into their traumas with one another. It’s really fucking easy to have day-to-day conversations with people that stay on the surface and just keep powering through. Go back to 710 and notice how we don’t go deep into the daddy issues. They both touch on them, and then Evan changes the subject and Tommy goes with him on it. I don’t think it’s unreasonable at six months in to not have done a deep dive on major trauma. You can skate around it if it’s not something you’re ready to talk about. It’s one of my reasons for why these two will ultimately be back together in 8b, because at some point you have to flesh out the unfinished business of it all (ala Wyatt and Judd when Judd’s leg was broken). Now, I don’t know if that happens the involvement of a serial killer, or a truck/jeep/helicopter accident, or trapped in a burning building… I just know that at some point, it has to come to fruition. TM enjoys these kinds of standoffs too much to not have a plan for these two to end up in one. 

That all said, I’ve said before, the general audience doesn’t have a psychology degree or years of trauma counseliing under their belt. They’re not going to look at these two and read it the same way I can. TM probably doesn’t even realize the way he’s writing it is very direct into psychological motives 😂

But, just to cover my own skin… I could always be wrong. One of my very favorite people has a completely different theory on how b/t will be handled, and we agree to disagree 😂😂😂. as I’ve said to him “the best part of this entire scenario is that one of us eventually has to be wrong”. 

(circling back to your “simple i love you” just one last time as I looked at it again…. it feels siimple to us as an audience. however, verbalizing that shit out loud when you fear rejection and abandonment is an entirely different story. we know they had abandonment on the brain for Buck going into the midseason finale, and this obviously would’ve played right into it. So in what world are you going to expect him to give up “I love you” when he’s about to be broken up with. That would’ve been unnecessarily cruel.) 

My last little addition, to circle back to other points I’ve made… there’s a give and take in this relationship that we need (or at least deserve) to see. Personally, I feel like Buck will be the first one to say “I love you”, but my preference would be that Tommy does. It’s the whole issue of stepping beyond the fear for me that makes me feel that way.

By correlation, I feel like Buck has to give up the loft. He asks Tommy to move in, but we’ve had many discussions about the fact that Tommy has a house with a car lift and a muay thai set up. those are not things that would translate well into a loft. Having that trade-off would show a meeting in the middle on things that they both hold close to the vest. Tommy allowing himself to love and be loved would be a major point for him, while Evan giving up the loft would suggest that he’s not just in things for the short-term, because he can also give things up for Tommy. (also, the loft is very bachelor-esque, and these two are not bachelors when they’re with each other so….) 

sorry not sorry. you’re welcome for my rambles lol

[emsprovisions]

❄️ Day 21 - You Can Call Me Babe for the Weekend ❄️

🎁 Today's fic is dedicated to @ironheartwriter! It’s Lana's birthday!!! Go and shower her in birthday wishes and love!

Summary: Carlos agrees to be TK's date to Enzo's family Christmas gathering in New York.

Word count: 1122

24 Days of Tarlos Masterpost

“Uchh,” TK groans, slumping into an empty chair beside Nancy with a bowl of Paul’s chili.

”What’s wrong with you?” She asks, eyeballing her best friend with apprehension.

”I need a date for this Christmas dinner thing my stepdad is hosting,” TK explains.

”Why do you need a date?” Marjan quirks a brow from where she’s seated across the table.

”Because,” TK starts, already beginning to wave his sass hand in the air. “My family will pester me about why I’m still single after Alex dumped me over a year ago. Or they’ll keep bringing him up and rehashing exactly what I did wrong to make my boyfriend be unfaithful to me. It’ll be a whole thing and I’d really rather avoid it. It’s just, how the hell can I find a date less than a week before I need one? And he has to be willing to go to New York with me and my mom.”

”I’ll go with you.”

All eyes around the table snap forward to the cop sitting at the end beside Paul.

Carlos is staring at TK with genuine interest in solving his problem and TK is practically melting inside at the thought of Carlos being his fake date to his dysfunctional family Christmas. He and Carlos have become close friends in the year that TK’s moved to Austin. In fact, he’s the one who invited the patrol officer over for lunch on his shift because he knows Carlos loves Paul’s chili. 

TK also has an embarrassingly huge crush on Carlos, one he knows Nancy is aware of, and she is making eyeballs at him right now and jabbing his calf with her foot to accept Carlos’s offer.

”Oh, that’s so sweet, Carlos, but you don’t have to,” TK shakes his head.

”I’d like to,” Carlos offers TK a small smile. His big, brown eyes get all soft, and TK is nothing but putty in this man’s hands because how could he refuse cow eyes?

He can’t. Which is how he has found himself days later wedged between his mother, bouncing a baby Jonah on her knee, and Carlos, on a plane bound for New York. 

His mom is in on the ruse, Gwyn also aware that her son has feelings for the officer, and she has agreed to play along for the sake of this weekend going smoothly.

Carlos is accepted into the de la Costa family like he’s their own son. He flirts with Tía Carmen, complimenting her and winking like they have years of inside jokes between them. He’s great with the small gaggle of children that are somehow related to Enzo. He even charms Enzo himself, who more often than not never seemed too impressed with the guys TK introduced him to.

It’s at the big family dinner though that Carlos is really put to the test as TK’s boyfriend. They had predetermined many details of their forged relationship, especially after Nancy intervened and brought up her extensive movie and book knowledge on the very subject of fake dating. But of course, the one aspect they somehow hadn’t considered to figure out is asked.

”So, Carlos, how did you and TK meet?” Enzo’s sister asks, as she passes Carlos a bowl of salad.

Carlos grins, looking over at TK beside him before back at Catalina. 

“We were on a call, actually,” Carlos begins. “It was raining, and I’d heard the 126 had a new fire captain, but I hadn’t met him or his son yet. We had to save this baby stuck in a tree and the moment TK laid eyes on me, I Was completely done for. All I could see were these bright green eyes, shining in the headlights. TK probably doesn’t remember this, but he stood beside me and grabbed my shoulder while his dad climbed the ladder himself to save the baby.”

Carlos is wrong. TK does remember all that. What surprises him most though is that Carlos also remembers it.

”I saw him again later that night after work at this honky tonk in Austin and I asked him to dance,” Carlos continues, looking back towards TK and reaching for his hand with a smile. “It was the best decision of my life.”

TK also remembers the line dancing at the bar. He stepped on Carlos’s feet and they laughed and he swore he’d never met anyone more beautiful. But TK was a wrecking ball back then. A hot mess fresh off a relapse and a breakup and he had no business getting involved with anyone else so soon, sexual or otherwise. He still felt too raw, too on edge, and even before he knew Carlos’s name, he knew Carlos deserved better than that. So they became friends. And now TK’s wondering if maybe he ruined their chance to ever be more all the way back then, on that first night they’d met. 

Only Carlos is looking at him like he hung the moon and practically everyone around the table is swooning over Carlos’s story. 

“God, that’s romantic. Dammit, Javier, why can’t you be more like Carlos!” Catalina turns to her own husband to swat at his arm, and the table dissolves into laughter and chatter, and TK can’t stop staring at Carlos.

He catches Carlos’s eye, and Carlos just smiles softly back at him. 

“Aren’t you two the cutest lovebirds,” Abuelita just melts from across the table as she catches them staring at each other. “Reminds me of me and my husband when we were young.”

TK just laughs and squeezes Carlos’s hand. “Hear that, babe? Sounds like Abuelita’s already planning our wedding.”

“I’m just saying,” Abuelita laughs. “I know that look when I see it.”

Later, when they’re alone for the night and trying to solve the issue of only one bed, TK just sinks onto the edge of the mattress, his head still spinning from earlier. “I didn’t know you remembered when we met that well.”

Carlos freezes where he’d been gathering pillows to make a makeshift divider on the bed. “I remember everything about you, TK.”

“What does that mean?” TK furrows his brows at his fake boyfriend. 

“It means I meant every word,” Carlos explains slowly with a small, hopeful smile. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, TK, and I know you weren’t ready for anything back then, but I’ve waited, hoping that one day, you might be.”

TK’s brows shoot to his forehead as he stares at Carlos. 

That night, the pillow divider is abandoned as their clothes end up on the floor, and TK does what he should’ve done all those months ago, and Carlos is even happier to become TK’s real boyfriend than to be his fake one.

[fkinkindagauche]

All I Ever Wanted Help With Was You

Finally time to post my fic for @steddieexchange! It's for Dorian (Sal3m_hfc on AO3). Hope you enjoy!

Also using this for a @steddiebingo 2025 Round One prompt, Vampire AU.

Rating: Explicit | WC: 8,651 | Tags: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Vampire Eddie Munson, Human Steve Harrington, Friends to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, There Was Only One Bed, Virgin Eddie Munson, Top Eddie Munson, Bottom Steve Harrington, First Time, Blood Drinking, Size Kink, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Jason Carver Being an Asshole

Summary: Steve agrees to help Eddie out by pretending to be his human companion for a vampire gathering.

Read the whole thing on AO3.

“Steve. Stevie. My dearest friend. I need your help,” Eddie pleads, slumping onto the couch next to Steve. 

They’re at Robin’s place getting ready to watch a movie. Eddie is, as usual, all up in Steve’s space. Steve refuses to shift away from him. He won’t give Eddie the satisfaction of knowing he makes Steve uncomfortable. 

“With what, Eddie?” Steve sighs, wondering what the hell Eddie’s gotten himself into this time. 

“There’s this thing happening the weekend before Christmas,” Eddie says. “A vampire thing, with the coven I’m trying to join. It’s some sort of Midwinter festival, a weekend of, like, sensual partying I guess? At this estate up in Michigan.”

“How could I possibly help you with that?” Steve asks, puzzled.

“Well, see. I got invited by this vampire I met last week, Chrissy,” Eddie explains, putting his hand on Steve’s thigh. That’s fine. Steve can be normal about this. “She’s kind of a higher-up in the coven leadership. But I don’t wanna go alone, because the invitation specifically gives me a plus one, for a human or vampiric companion. And I don’t wanna be that one guy who shows up companionless.”

“A companion… is that, like, a date?” Steve is even more perplexed.

“Typically it does connote a sexual relationship,” Eddie concedes, “unless the vampire is asexual. Which I am most certainly not.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

Steve is well aware that Eddie’s not asexual. Eddie tells all of them, at length, about the fantastic sex he has with the people he feeds from. He says that vampire bites are an aphrodisiac, and his willing victims can’t help but jump his bones afterwards.

“You want me to… find you a companion? I’m not a pimp, Eddie,” Steve grumbles. 

“No!” Eddie yells. “I want you to pretend to be my companion. You’ve got the whole pretty rich boy thing going. It would look good, showing them I could net someone like you.” 

Steve blushes, unable to hold back his reaction to the backhanded praise from Eddie. He fixates on the word “pretend” to make sure he doesn’t get his hopes up. “I have to work,” Steve protests. 

Eddie groans. “Don’t you get, like, vacation time? Isn’t that a human thing?”

“You were a human one year ago,” Steve points out. Eddie has a tendency to talk like he’s a decades-old vampire who’s seen things, and Steve always likes to bring him down a notch.

Eddie waves a hand dismissively. “I’ve forgotten many of the human traditions since then.”

Steve snorts. “If you can get Keith to give me the time off, I’ll come with you.” He doesn’t think that’s even remotely possible. Keith hates Steve, and loves to make him work on weekends, so he figures it’s a good way to say no without having to actually say no.

Eddie nods. “Challenge accepted,” he says, squeezing Steve’s thigh and getting up to go help Robin with the popcorn. If Steve has to adjust himself following Eddie’s hand’s proximity to his upper thigh after that, no one needs to know.

Eddie somehow convinces Keith to give Steve the time off. Steve suspects drugs were involved, but Eddie claims he’s just that persuasive. Steve, who had been sure there was no way he’d get a whole weekend off at the last minute, has backed himself into a corner.

“But… what are we even going to do the whole weekend?” Steve whines after Eddie tells him the news. 

“There’s going to be activities,” Eddie says vaguely.

“What kind? Vampiric mini golf?” Steve quips, hands on hips.

“I’m not actually sure,” Eddie mutters, looking thoughtful.

“You’re taking me to a vampire convention and you don’t even know what’s going to happen there?” 

“Aww, don’t be scared, Stevie,” Eddie teases. “I’ll protect you from all the vampires.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Eddie, you’re a fledgling.”

Eddie raises a hand to his chest in mock hurt. “You wound me. I’ll have you know I’m an extremely precocious vampire. Wise and powerful beyond my years.”

Steve snorts. Robin walks back in from the bathroom, sitting on the couch next to Steve. “Eddie’s making me go to the vampire thing to be his little bitch,” Steve announces. 

Robin laughs. “Did you have to give Keith a blowjob to make that happen, Eddie?”

“Yes,” Eddie replies. “It was so good he offered to give Steve paid leave for the rest of his life, but I told him no need, I just need Steve for the weekend.”

“You do have a really big mouth,” Steve says, very pleased he’s actually able to get a blush out of Eddie. It’s rare, usually Eddie’s the one making Steve blush, but every once in a while Steve gets him.

“You guys are gross.” Robin cringes, sticking her tongue out at them. 

“Pretty sure you got us onto this particular topic, Birdie,” Eddie interjects. 

Robin ignores him. “Are you sure it’s going to be safe? For Steve?”

“I can take care of myself,” Steve grumbles. 

“Everyone’s allowed to bring a human companion, safety guaranteed by the coven,” Eddie assures. 

Steve sighs and slumps down on the couch. There’s probably no way out of this. And it will be nice to have a weekend away from Keith.

“Alright. Do I have to bring, like, fancy clothes?” Steve asks. He can’t imagine Eddie ever wearing anything other than jeans, a band tee, and a leather jacket, but he’s trying to lean into the vampirism thing a little more these days. 

“The invitation said there’s going to be a ball, which is black tie.”

“Eddie, do you even know what black tie means?” Steve asks. 

“Well, I assume, Steven, that it means I need a black tie,” Eddie snarks.

Steve sighs and drops his head into his hands. “We’re gonna need to go shopping.”

Read the whole thing on AO3.

Divider by @steddiecameraroll-graphics.