#you can try it and see if you feel better. you can just do that. see if it makes you feel truer. sexier. more confident.

[hypnagogics]

You should definitely write for Vi bc oml she’s so fine 😮‍💨

DO U EVEN KNOW THE WAY IM TWEAKIN OVER HER like omfg. my poor moots getting bombarded with fucking piles of edits upon edits of her and my thirsty comments...yeah...i gotchu, you don't needa ask me twice ♡ tbh feel like this is one of the better short smutty thingies i've written, lol. it was really fun.

nsfw drabble—dom!vi + spit kink. originally i was gonna make this three smaller blurbs, but decided to just smash em all into one longer drabble situation. cw: praise, bossy vi, finger sucking (r! receiving), oral (v! receiving), vi bush mention RAHHHH, yapping... yk how it is by now. + 1.1k wc.

you were gazing up at her with watery eyes, kneeling by vi's seated form, trying your hardest to ignore the deafening ache between your thighs.

vi is loving, and she knows how to treat you well. she always provides you with tons of care and happiness, however—she also possesses a dirty side to her.

a bandaged hand swipes at the bottom of your chin, her thumb prodding at your pursed lips. there was a smirk playing on her scarred lips, her powder-blue eyes twinkling with pure lust at the scenario playing out before her.

“open.” she says roughly, and who are you to deny her? you were willing to take anything she'd give you, so you obediently part your lips, allowing her to fully push her digit inside your hot mouth.

almost instinctively, your puffy lips wrap around her thumb and you begin to suck, your eyes rolling ever so slightly at the taste of her salted skin. she hums, “atta girl—keep going. just like that, until i say you can stop, alright?” you open your eyes and nod in approval, wishing to commit her expression to memory.

see, vi wasn't one of those mean, degrading doms with an icy exterior who get off on hurting you an excessive amount, and in moments like this where she's got you in a position of submission under her, her natural “switchiness” peeks through. you see it in the way her throat bobs as she swallows, her unsteady, shallow breathing coming out in rasps, and the distinct furrow in her flaming brows while she struggles to maintain eye contact. regardless, you both enjoy toying around with various dynamics, she makes it fun.

you get lost in a daydream while staring into her eyes, but are startled out of it when she strongly presses down on your wet tongue, and pushes her thumb further inward until you gag.

it surprises you, but you know she would never overdo things. tears well up in your eyes, their presence only widening her voracious grin.

then she soothes, her now-soft voice caressing your ears, “exactly, just like that. good job, baby. you're so perfect f'me—yeahhh.” she continues rolling her thumb around your wet muscle, every so often dragging the pad of her finger over the ridges of your teeth, then pushing experimentally up against the roof of your mouth.

saliva has been gathering all this time, and she hasn't given you a moment to swallow it, so it dribbles out of your mouth and down your chin, decorating your chest as it slides down your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps along its path.

her face gets impossibly redder as she observes the sight, still while playing with—rather, using—your mouth. her movements speed up a touch, and she triggers your gag reflex once more before abruptly stopping. she pulls her hand out of your mouth with a pop, and throws her head back as she tries to steady her breathing. “you're so fuckin’ hot, god—i can't.”

you smile up at her, reveling in her break of character and being pleased with yourself. she's panting, and examines her hand; it's shiny and dripping with your spit, she's mesmerized by the sparkle it emits in the low light. her periwinkle eyes gloss over and suddenly there's a flash of fabric flying by, and you realize she has undressed herself in one fluid motion, throwing everything on her bottom half across the room. she’s so desperate, you can’t help but sneer at her horny distress, even though technically you were the one being overpowered.

your eyes drop, meeting a wild tangle of vermillion and crimson, her muscular thighs separating east and west to make space for you.

she leans back and gently nudges your head towards her tender, drooling core, her chest heaving at the way you're just melting under her touch. turning to jelly, you let her guide you where she wants. needs.

vi groans quietly, her breath hitching, “c'mon angel, you know what to do.” and you very much did. with her assistance, you advance and bury your face in her center, tongue finding her scarlet pearl—twitching and ready for you to obliterate.

you flick, you suck, and you moan at the heavenly taste of her essence, revel in the noises she's producing above you. she pulls you further in, bucking her hips frantically to chase your skilled mouth. you push your tongue inside her quivering hole as far as it'll go, taking as much of her in your mouth as you can, and ignoring the lack of oxygen you're experiencing—you would be more than pleased if you were lucky enough to die this way.

she's watching you intently through half-lidded eyes, chewing on her rosy lips. when you meet her gaze from in between her legs, her face contorts and she releases a guttural whine, more slick leaking from her and filling your hard-at-work mouth.

her grip on your hair tightens and her abs tense, providing you with an image that's worthy of a climax just on its own. her head falls back, her lips parting to allow for pretty, high pitched and pathetic pleas to grace your ears. “ple—please baby, just like that. you're so fuckin' good, don't you dare stop—ah!”

without any warning she makes a vulgar mess of your face, the vice grip on your crown causing you to wince, but just as she requests, you don't dare move.

you tilt your head to get a better angle, practically making out with her swollen pussy. you drink up her cum, the near-sickly sweetness clouding your mind, coating your thoughts in a drunken haze.

the high is rippling through her at such an intensity her loud moans are replaced with pornographic whimpers, the sensations utterly ruining her. she squirms and arches, caging your head between her thighs until she gasps.

"hah—okay, okay, oh—fuck.” she stutters while she pushes you away, the tremor in her body evident. you sit back and examine your work, feeling proud of yourself, her fucked-out condition proving you did a good job.

she's sprawled on the bed like a starfish, still trying to slow her racing heart but manages to chuckle, basking in the aftershocks of a mind-melting session.

her words are slurred, yet satisfied. “did so good, that was so good…love your mouth s'much babe.”

you guffaw, and throw at her through chuckles, “i know, i am the best.” that sends her into a fit of giggles as well, and once she's calmed down she confirms.

“yeah, you really are.”

thanks for reading! comments, reblogs, and asks are appreciated more than you know ♡ if you'd like to be tagged in future works, fill out the form here! until next time ;)

@andersonfilms @ch6douin @aouiaa @sapphic-ovaries @astro-cat2 @paqerings @littlefallenangel111 @srooch @sinfulprayerss @lvlymicha @sunnsh1ne @pinkcwake @marsworlddd @caszzine @saturnsdrafts @mascdom @ashaynep @angelynn-nicole @wilddrown @aylabv02108 @lonelyfooryouonly @melsmunch @e11williamsgf @spncrrdlvr @flowrmoth

[yeyinde]

psychic!Reader being relentlessly stalked and terrorised by dead!Ghost.

He's not sure how he died, but considering the aura he has wrapped around him, it was vicious and violent. And while you're no stranger to helping the dead cross over when they need it, but he can't. Or won't. Everything you try doesn't work, and he soon decides that he's fine with that.

Prefers, instead, to follow you around. And at first, it's fine. He explores the world around him—intangible, untouchable—and asks snarky questions about why you're the only the one who can see him. How this came to be. But then he grows bored. Restless. Shifts into bad jokes. Taunts.

Finds the most amusement, though, in muttering in your ear about all the filthy things he'd do to you if he had his body back—in broad daylight, no less. All explicit, ugly things about testing your flexibility. Bending your knees to your ears. Getting that pretty little mouth on his cock—

Watches you shower. Drawls about having you put on a show for him. Slides into the bed with you when he can manipulate and solidify his form better. Icycold hands against your breasts. Squeezing your ass.

Most ghosts continue with their routine. Go on with their lives. Cogs in the machine. But he spends his time messing with you.

The problem, however, is that ghosts can only do much to interact with the physical world. Knocking things over. Stomping their feet down the halls. Saying a word. A name. A whisper. Cold air. Static. A slamming door.

But Simon's pinches hurt. His hand sometimes feels warm when he cups your beasts, or curls his palm over the nape of your neck, pulling you toward his groin only to huff when your face slips through it.

"not there yet, are we?" he drawls, but holds you there anyway just because he can.

Sometimes you have to remind yourself he's a ghost. A spectre. He can't really hurt you.

But when he nuzzles his face into your neck, and bites down so hard it burns, you find yourself unable to explain the raw, bloodied imprint of his teeth there the next morning. Or how warm, how solid, his body feels when he pulls you against his chest, hands groping at you as he stares at the mark he left with something primal twisting across his once pellucid face. Darkening with malintent. Desire.

Maybe you should have taken his threats a little more seriously after all.

[ooooo-mcyt]

Grian gets flack sometimes for how quick he moves on, but it's less about being disloyal and more about his inability to be alone.

When Grian is on a team, he is inconsolably devoted. Grian will spend episodes doing practically nothing but trying to keep his teammates as healthy as he possibly can, and he will practically never walk out on someone, no matter what, even if he thinks he should, even if it might be better for him to.

But he's no stranger to loss, and Grian knows that when your team is gone, you can't skip a beat. Part of it is about his own survival, naturally. Solo players don't often get too far. He's already losing time every second he's by himself, and self preservation is a strong driver.

But beyond that, Grian personally cannot bear to be alone with himself. We see it every time he's a solo player (whether because his team dies or because he just hasn't found one yet), Grian doesn't feel like he's anything when everyone else is removed from the equation. Grian needs somebody to help, somebody to take care of, how is he supposed to exist in silent beats and empty air? Does he even exist? What is he without them, any of them?

[keferon]

Eh okay so. My brain is absolutely cooked so you will probably just have to ignore the linguistic fuckups

Jazz and Prowl learning to communicate because language barrier is a thing >:D

Previous part

Jazz sometimes thinks that somewhere along his career path he lost the bar separating normal from...well...everything else.

After all he's seen, heard about, and done, he's not sure exactly how to measure what's weird and what's normal. He has..the general idea.

His own. And it's so convoluted and fucked up that he'd rather jump into a volcano than try to explain it to anyone else. Jazz thinks the little colorful aliens around him are weird as hell. He thinks they sound weird, he thinks they look weird, and he thinks he must be going crazy.

And then this big black and white robot catches his eye and Jazz's first thought is not "what the fuck??"

His first thought is

"Thank God! Someone's normal!"

Whoever this guy is, he sounds like he knows what he's doing. And most importantly, he looks just like Jazz. Well, not exactly. But close enough. After all, Jazz knows that his organization wasn't the only mech maker on the entire planet. Other countries were making Mechs too, and Jazz hadn't seen even half of them.

But he can recognize a giant robot when he sees one, okay?

The thought that another mech could be an alien doesn't even enter his mind.

So used to the constant presence of huge piloted robots around him, he looks at this one and clings to its appearance as something familiar and easily explainable. His brain says, we know how this works. There's a robot and inside the robot there's another person. It's the way it's always been. The sky is blue, the grass is green and the robots are human-piloted. It's that simple.

The guy takes him to the far corner of the room and says something. Jazz…doesn't understand..

The mech's face contorts in a surprisingly believable display of concentration. How...who built this robot? How could they make it frown?

He hears something else being said to him but again can't understand a word. Why won't this pilot get out of the mech to talk to him? Jazz doesn't have his communication frequency but surely they could at least shake hands. There must be some reason. Maybe something wrong with the air? Is it dangerous to be outside? This guy should know better, he's been here longer than Jazz, it seems.

(Damn it, whose idea was it to make a mech with a face, it's so distracting)

He rushes to activate the external speakers, because he and this guy obviously speak different languages, but it never hurts to try, right?

"So uh, I don't think you can understand English?"

Mech frowns again, trying to pick up on something familiar in a language that's apparently new to him. But finds nothing. Jazz lowers his horns sadly.

Oh well. Fuck. As if being stuck in an unknown place with unknown creatures wasn't enough, he can't even talk to anyone! How is he supposed to get out of here? Which way should he even go?

The mech waves his hand to get his attention and then pulls out a tablet and a stylus from..where ?

Jazz somehow manages to overlook the fact that the tablet is made to fit the mech's size. His head is still feels a bit…off..after that portal thingie.

"Charades it is then."

____________________

An hour and a half later, Jazz finds himself staring intensely at the screen in front of him with a surprisingly neatly drawn chart on it.

"So uh. Motion."

The other guy nods and starts drawing a walking mech. Then something that looks like a very unusual car. Then a submarine. Jazz gets a little lost looking at how skillful he is with the stylus.

Honestly, he's a good artist!

The guy points to the sketch of a walking mech and says

" Motion."

Then points to the drawing of a car driving and the columns of the chart.

"Motion-rotation" he points to the car again.

That must mean "driving" huh? Jazz nods understandingly.

Mech moves his finger to the submarine.

"Motion-Water."

Ah, it must mean swimming. Jazz nods once more, feeling like a wind-up dummy repeating the same motion a dozen times.

The mech makes a quiet humming noise and then points to the chart

"Motion. Sky."

And then gives Jazz the stylus?

Uh, what is he... Oh, he wants Jazz to figure out what it means.

"Motion" and "sky," right?

Jazz takes the stylus? Pencil? Thingie.. and very carefully draws out a crooked scribble of something only remotely resembling an airplane. The mech arches an eyebrow and looks like he wants to laugh.

Jazz shrugs awkwardly and tries to add windows to the airplane, but ends up making it look more like a severely fucked up caterpillar.

Mech snorts.

Jazz kicks him in the leg.

The airplane begs for a merciful death.

Jazz didn't really expect to get into a language class but he has to admit that whatever language he's learning now is a surprisingly easy one. It only took the other dude half an hour to show him the basic concept and from there it became a game of associations.

There were simple definitions. Like size, quantity, speed, emotion and so on.

There were signs that automatically turned the whole sentence into a question or a statement.

There were modifiers that Jazz defined in his head as positive and negative.

Positive speed - fast.

Positive size - large.

Positive direction - forward.

Positive time - future.

There were also basic words for senses, emotions and whatnot, also with modifiers.

Mouth-positive - to speak

Brain-positive - to think, but negative-brain-do-positive - to learn.

Huh.

And it's so neatly organized that Jazz wondered if this language was designed specifically to be easy to learn.

Let's see....

Mouth - positive, effort - negative.

"Easy to speak."

The guy nods contentedly and starts talking back, while pointing to the appropriate columns of the chart to make it easier for Jazz to understand.

"Creation-positive. Purpose. Person-negative-knowledge. memory-positive-effort-negative."

Jazz frowns, concentrating on his finger.

Oh. Created. For those who don't know it. Easy to learn.

He was right. The whole thing is waaaay too awkward to write poetry but learning it is a delight.

Jazz leans over the chart.

All right, well, let's see.

“Name. You. Question?”

The other guy smiles and pokes at the chart

"Me.Motion-sound-negative.Negative-eyes-positive-someone."

Walk quietly. searching?… Sneaking?

Oh, it's not "to sneak" it's "to prowl"

"Prowl" nods affirmatively. Jazz smiles at him and looks at the chart again. Okay. How to say “music”?..

“word-knowledge-negative.”

He stops to make a gesture with his hands, as if playing an invisible piano while humming a tune.

Prowl nods

“Sound-positive-positive-hearing.”

Jazz chuckles

“A whole two positives eh? Okay then. Uh. You don't look like you listen to jazz....so..”

“Me. Name. Sound-positive-positive-listening.”

Prowl raises his eyebrows. (Jazz is jealous, he wishes he had eyebrows too.)

“You're a musician?"

Jazz quickly shakes his head while simultaneously muting the outside speakers to a barely audible level and turning on one of the songs on his playlist.

Prowl twitches in surprise when he hears the melody.

Jazz waits for the intro to finish playing and then points to himself

“Creation-negative..uh..Sound-positive-positive-hearing. Jazz. This...”

He pats himself lightly on the chest.

"..is me. Jazz."

Prowl straightens up slightly

“Oh, you're not a musician, you're the music.”

Jazz nods cheerfully

“Yes yes!”

“Jaaz?”

“No no. Jazz.”

“Ah. Jazz?”

“That's right.”

Prowl draws a portal on the screen.

“You teleported here. What happened?”

Jazz hangs back, trying to construct an answer in his head. Good thing Prowl seems to have infinite patience

“So, I uh. What was 'fight'? Movement-pain-positive? I fought these things...”

He takes the tablet from Prowl and draws a crooked blot with a bunch of tentacles on it. Then thinks for a bit and adds big teeth and a lot of eyes. He's not really sure how to draw those eyes properly, so he just scatters them randomly around the monster area.

Prowl doesn't seem to be that amused by Jazz's drawings anymore, in fact, he suddenly becomes very somber.

“Quintessons.”

He pokes at the monster

“Name-Quintessons. Number-question.”

How many?

Jazz scratches the back of his head

“So uh...a lot?....number-positive-positive-positive-positive-positi...you get the idea.”

To be convincing, he dramatically spreads his arms out to the sides depicting something very large.

Prowl looks alarmed.

And unconvinced.

“How did you survive?”

Jazz laughs pretentiously

“Ask them how they survived.”

Prowl makes the “you can't be serious” face. Jazz isn't quite sure what exactly is confusing him. Mechs are designed to kill Quintessons, aren't they? Judging by his movements, this pilot must be damn good at controlling his mech, and that kind of guys usually fight on the front lines.

He decides to put that thought aside for later. There are more important things right now, like...oh shit, where is he even going??

Jazz leans over the chart again

“Uh. Right. Question-we-move-up-place” Man, how to specify... “Knowledge-negative?”

Prowl, linguistic gods bless him, understands him and starts gesturing over the chart in response

Okay. Ah. I-move-up. Planet-creation-positive.

'I'm heading home' or 'my home planet'.”

Jazz instantly perks up.

“Oh that's great, I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to go there too.”

Prowl is speaking in a language he's unfamiliar with, so he's definitely from another country, but hey, who cares as long as it's on Earth, right? He just needs to get there and he'll find his own way from there.

He watches the space debris flicker by outside the window. Even the stars are unfamiliar, Jazz can't find any constellations he knows.

One of the little purple creatures says something and Prowl steps aside to chat with them. Jazz leans back and settles into a more or less stable position. Then does the same thing, but with his real, human body. Hell, his head still feels really fucking weird after that teleportation.

He opens the comm channel and just listens to the static for a couple minutes in the faint hope that the engineering department will find a way to contact him.

Nothing.

He sighs.

“1061 on the com. In case there's any way you can hear me...ah shit. You guys won't believe what happened...”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Snap

Leah Williamson x Reader

Summary: It's all Leah can hear

The snap is what Leah hears and the snap is what Leah hears only.

She can't hear your scream. She can't hear the yelling from the crowd. She can't hear anything as that snap echoes around her brain.

The North London derby was always this kind of scrappy. Everyone expected it. Everyone looked forward to it.

More yellow cards flew for both teams than probably any other fixture.

Tackles always held a little bit more passion, a little bit more aggression than usual.

But not like this.

Never like this.

No one ever wanted it to be like this.

Leah can do nothing but stare. It feels like minutes, time slowing down around her as she watches. It can't have been more than seconds.

It's not her that makes the tackle. It's some new academy girl that's been called up to replace an injured teammate.

Leah can't quite recall her name but she goes in for the tackle, studs up.

Studs up and not even aiming for the ball.

And not even for your ankle either.

She goes in for your leg and your crumble under the force of it.

Leah doesn't know if the rest of the stadium heard the snap but she certainly did.

She heard the snap.

It was all she could hear.

Chaos erupts from everyone - teams, staff, supporters - but Leah can't hear any of it.

You're on the ground, face split open in a scream that she can't hear, tears dripping down your face as you clutch as your bloodied leg.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. It's going to be okay. Stop moving. Stop moving."

Leah can't remember when she moved. She can't remember shoving past your Spurs teammates and getting on her knees to hold your head still.

"Baby, I know it hurts. I know but you just have to stay still. It could be worse than we think. Alright, stay still for me."

You suck in a breath. "L-Leah," You croak out, voice cracked and quiet," It hurts."

"I know," Leah says, feeling panicked as she glances over to the side lines, watching as the medics run on," I know, baby. I know. It'll all be better soon. Just hang on."

Everything still feels like slow motion to Leah, panic clawing at her consciousness.

You try to move your head again, to look at your leg but Leah's hands are clamped tightly around you.

"You-You don't want to see it," She says," Trust me, baby."

"I...Leah, it hurts. It hurts so bad."

"I know," It's all Leah can say, all she can do to keep you calm," I know, baby. But it'll be over soon. The medics are just coming."

She's right, of course and in any other circumstance, she would brag endlessly about it, about being right.

But not now.

Not with you injured and your leg very clearly broken and bloody.

One of the medics gives you a green whistle that you suck on generously before you're loaded up on the stretcher.

That academy player gets a red card and Leah doesn't even care that they're down to ten on the pitch and the open gap next to her is what leads to Spurs equalising and the derby ending in a draw.

"What was up with you and l/n?" Katie asks in the locker room," I didn't know you two were friends."

Leah changes quickly, not even bothering to shower when it means spending more time away from your bedside.

"We're not friends," She replies, throwing her boots into her bag and unplugging her phone charger.

"Really?" Katie says in disbelief," You guys looked so close when she got injured. You wouldn't leave her side."

"She's not my friend," Leah says bluntly," Because she's my girlfriend who is now in hospital after a stupid, reckless-"

"Leah," Kim cuts in, glancing over to the showers where the academy girl has been inside since her red card nearly half an hour ago ," Go and see her. I'm sure she's waiting for you."

Leah cuts off her oncoming rant, zipping up her bag angrily before storming out.

Her hands clench her steering wheel tightly as she drives, only stopping off once to grab some snacks and some flowers.

"Hey," You say as she walks into your hospital room," Oh, Leah, they're beautiful."

You take the flowers from her as she dips down to give you a kiss.

"I was worried about you," Leah says, glancing down at your leg," How bad?"

"A clean break," You reply," So just a cast and no surgery. The blood made it look worse than it is. I'll be okay."

"Are you sure?" Leah asks," You can tell me. You don't have to try and save my feelings."

"I promise," You say," It's all okay. Nothing too bad."

"Definitely?" Leah checks," You're not trying to stop me stressing?"

"Definitely," You agree with a little laugh," Nothing too bad. Nothing to stress about."

Leah blows out air noisily, finally relaxing in the stupid plastic chair by your bedside.

"Now," You say," Did Spurs equalise?"

Leah groans.

[kateschi]

through the cold, with you

synopsis: amid the biting cold of patrol, katsuki finds his own way to keep you warm.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes: was listening to a song and it went "i would burn my words to warm you up" and i want that kinda devotion tbh

the night air is sharp, biting at your skin as you walk through the quiet streets on patrol. the chill settles into your bones, making your fingers stiff and your nose go numb.

you pull your jacket tighter, but it feels like the cold is winning, no matter what you do.

beside you, katsuki strides ahead, his steps purposeful and his posture as commanding as ever. he doesn’t seem bothered by the weather at all.

you try to shake off the discomfort, but the cold is relentless, seeping through your clothes and making it harder to focus.

you force your steps to keep in line with his, but your movements are slower now. every breath feels like it could be your last.

he doesn’t even notice. or so you think.

another few minutes pass, and you feel your teeth start to chatter.

you glance over at katsuki, his fiery gaze locked straight ahead, his usual scowl firmly in place. h

e’s always been the type to push through anything—cold, pain, exhaustion—and now, it feels like the wind is just another enemy to him.

you, on the other hand, are starting to feel the weight of it all.

just as you’re about to speak up, to mention that you’re starting to freeze, katsuki stops walking without warning. his shoulders tense, and you can hear his breath cut through the air.

you blink in confusion as he turns to face you, his eyes narrowing slightly as they sweep over your figure, taking in the subtle signs of discomfort you hadn’t voiced aloud.

“you good?” he asks, voice still rough but softer than usual. his eyes linger on you for a moment, like he’s waiting for you to admit something, to ask for help.

but he doesn’t push.

you hesitate. he’s been protective of you since you first got together, but there’s a difference between that and actually asking for help.

you try to brush it off, giving him a small smile. “yeah, just a little cold. I’ll be fine.”

katsuki eyes you skeptically. “bullshit.”

you don’t have time to react before he steps toward you. before you even realize what’s happening, his hand is reaching for the collar of your coat.

his fingers brush against your skin as he unzips your jacket without a word, then pulls off the heavy scarf wrapped around his neck.

you open your mouth to protest, but before you can say anything, katsuki is already wrapping it around you, tightening it just enough to offer some protection against the cold.

you blink at him, confused. “katsuki, what—”

“shut up,” he mutters, cutting you off. he adjusts the scarf so it fits snugly around your neck, tucking the ends in carefully. “you’re freezing, and I’m not having you catch a cold.”

he steps back, his hand brushing against your shoulder as he assesses his work.

then, without another word, he reaches into his bag and pulls out a thermos—when the hell did he put that in? “here,” he says gruffly, holding it out toward you.

you take it from him, still caught in the bewilderment of what just happened. the warm liquid inside is a welcome relief to your frozen fingers as you take a sip.

katsuki watches you for a moment, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp. it’s like he’s silently making sure you’re okay, his watchful eyes never leaving you.

“better?” he asks, his tone a bit soft. there’s something protective in his voice, the kind of thing you never used to hear from him. you take another sip of the drink, nodding.

“yeah, much better. thanks.”

he huffs, his lips twitching in that small, familiar smirk that only you get to see. “you better be, or I’ll drag you back home and shove you under a heater myself.”

you laugh, the sound warmer than it’s been in the last hour. his eyes soften for a second, and for a moment, you swear you catch a flicker of something affectionate in them before it’s gone.

it’s like he doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but there’s no mistaking the care he’s showing.

you glance up at him as the silence stretches, a little unsure of what to say next. but he’s already taking a step forward again, his body language a silent invitation for you to follow.

“come on,” he says, his voice commanding as ever. “let’s get this patrol over with.”

you start walking beside him again, feeling the warmth of the scarf wrap around your neck like a promise.

the cold is still there, but it’s manageable now. it’s bearable. and, somehow, his presence seems to push it away, too.

you can feel the heat from his side, the way his body radiates strength, and the knowledge that he’s always looking out for you, even when he doesn’t say it out loud.

as you walk beside him, you try to ignore the soft smile that’s tugging at the corners of your lips.

he might act like he doesn’t care much for these things—gestures of affection, quiet acts of love—but he shows it in his own way. and, in the end, that’s all that matters.

katsuki steps forward again, his arm sliding around your waist and pulling you into his chest with surprising force.

“stop shivering, damn it,” he mutters, the rough edge in his voice doing nothing to hide the concern underneath. his body heat surrounds you as he keeps you pressed close, his hand firm against your back.

you stiffen for a moment, unsure of how to respond to the sudden proximity, but his warmth is undeniable. your body relaxes against his, letting the heat from him seep into you.

there’s something comforting in the way he holds you, like he’s willing to bear all the cold, so you don’t have to.

you tilt your head up slightly, just enough to meet his gaze, which is softer than usual. his face is still serious, but you can see the care in his eyes, the way he’s watching you closely.

for a second, the two of you just stand there, his arms wrapped around you, your body pressed against his.

“and—uh you’re welcome,” he says, so quietly you almost don’t hear him.

his gaze softens, just slightly, before he turns back and starts walking again, already heading toward the next stretch of their patrol.

a grin makes its way up your face, and it makes your husband blush furiously and press a firm kiss on the top of your head. he is trying to hide—you know that much.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[honey-on-your-tongue]

heyyy I was wondering if you could do pornstar! Logan x pornstar! reader, where they're doing a scene together and Logan's being a little more gentle with her and cooing at her and calling her sweet things because she's so blissed out by him fucking her so good. (the reader hasn't been fucked that good in a while) and it ends with them going out or becoming fwb idk.

this is prob the most explicit I've requested so I totally understand if you don't wanna do it, also feel free to take your time thxx

Omg I LOVED this idea!!! I was so inspired ughhh I want this man so baaaad

You have the perfect performance. Perfectly practiced moans, perfectly practiced expressions. You've got it all down, from the curl of your toes to the elegant arch of your back and the tilt of your head against the pillows.

You expect this new shoot to go the same. The usual age-gap thing, you innocent-looking vixen all-too-willing to let an older man fuck you.

You've never filmed with Logan before, but you've seen him around. And you've seen some of his videos.

At least he's hot and well endowed, you think as the sex scene comes up. The makeup artist fixes your makeup some and then you're sent to lie on the bed.

You can feel Logan's eyes on you as you position yourself on the bed. You glance over at him and he gives you a small grin, as if he knows something you don't.

At first, you're expecting the usual. Men that just fuck you like you're a toy and not caring for your pleasure.

But the moment Logan's hands are on you, you can tell it's going to be different.

His fingers trace your body like he's exploring precious, untouched terrain. Like he sees you.

The way he touches you and the way he looks at you like you're some precious thing has you plenty worked up.

His hand moves between your thighs, his breathing heavy. His fingers spread your folds and he groans, leaning down to lick at your entrance.

You shudder, a small gasp leaving you. You're shocked, amazed, exhilarated. Something about this is different—something about him is different.

You actually enjoy yourself. You don't have to fake anything. Every moan that leaves your lips is coerced by him and his talented tongue and fingers.

By the time the scene moves on to the actual sex, you're soaked and ready for him. And more than that, you're eager.

Logan holds your gaze as he slips his hard cock into you slowly. You gasp, he grunts.

“Fuck. So tight,” he says lowly as he starts thrusting.

He gives slow, long, deep strokes that almost feel like torture. He lets you feel every fucking inch of him with each thrust.

It feels so good that you almost forget about the cameras and the microphones and the crew that's recording and watching.

It feels so good that you allow yourself to get lost in the moment and you just feel it all.

You're moaning, hands grabbing onto his shoulders with a fierce grip as you try your best to remember the script. But no, you're too out of it. So Logan takes over.

“Yeah, baby, I know.” He chuckles as he grabs your leg and wraps it around his waist so he can fuck you deeper. “I know you like my cock in you, you ain't gotta say it.”

You whine, nails digging into his skin. “Fuck!” you squeal, words barely understandable through the mewls of ecstasy you let out.

“Such a good girl, hm? So obedient f’r me.”

You gasp, body trembling.

He smirks. “Can you say my name f’r me, darling? Hm?”

You mumble incoherently, remembering your lines from somewhere deep in your mind. You just can't say them. Literally. He's fucking you dumb.

“C'mon, baby, you can do better than that,” Logan taunts, kissing your neck. “Do better.”

You whimper, gasping, struggling to say the simple word you know he's wanting to hear.

He grabs your leg and moves it from around his waist to rest on his shoulder. He stops fucking you and lets you catch your breath. “Say it, bub.”

You meet his gaze through half-lidded eyes and say, “Daddy.” You're surprised at how hoarse your voice is. How long has he been fucking you for? It feels like it'll never be enough.

“Atta girl.” He grins, his cock twitching in you when he takes in the expression on your face. He starts fucking you again, harder and deeper this time, with more intention.

You're gasping, moaning, blubbering. And Logan fucks you harder.

You can feel that tight coil in your womb as the pleasure grows and spreads and threatens to take you over.

One of Logan's enormous hands comes down on top of your womb and he presses down. “I'm right in here. Can you feel me? Can you feel my cock so deep in this pretty cunt of yours?”

And that's it. That's all it takes for you to come on his cock. Your mind goes blank and you see stars.

Fuck the elegant arch of your back and the carefully practiced curl of your toes. Fuck the expressions you're supposed to make. You lose it. Your orgasm is messy and needy and intense and raw, and you love it.

By the time you come back to, Logan's already pulled out and come on your thighs, as per the script. He's already put on his robe and is drinking some water.

You sit up, body sore and exhausted, and the assistants are quick to help you into your robe and hand you some water.

You're still trying to get your bearings when Logan walks over to you. He smiles down at you as you sit on the edge of the bed and he holds out a piece of paper.

You take it. It has his number on it.

“’f you ever want a proper fuck again, bub, just call me up.”

---

Blog masterlist

[dreamscapeee222]

You have poor eyesight

Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx, Ekko, Viktor, Jayce, Mel

A/n: Really rushed with this lol but it should be fine. Bon appetit!

Masterlist

Vi

Vi would tease you lightly, calling you "four-eyes" if you wear glasses or joking about how "the world looks better blurry anyway" if you don’t. But it’s always said with a grin that lets you know she loves you just the way you are.

If you struggle to see something, Vi would be the first to step in and help. She’d guide your hand to what you’re looking for or describe things in vivid detail, making it fun so you don’t feel self-conscious.

She loves holding your hand when you're navigating unfamiliar areas, making it feel less like a necessity and more like an excuse to stay close. “Stick with me, short-stack. I’ve got your back.”

On lazy days, she’d trace your face with her fingers while you lie together, her voice soft as she murmurs, “Doesn’t matter what you see—what matters is what I see, and that’s someone amazing.”

During tender moments, she’d lean down and say, “Guess it’s lucky for me you didn’t see someone better,” before kissing you deeply.

Caitlyn:

Caitlyn would be the most practical about it, immediately asking if you need updated glasses, a new prescription, or anything to help. She’d even offer to bring you to Piltover’s best optometrist.

If you ever feel embarrassed about squinting or losing your glasses, she’d cup your chin and kiss you softly, whispering, “You’re beautiful, no matter what you see.”

She’d make sure everything in your shared space is organized and accessible for you. If you have trouble finding something, Caitlyn would quietly place it in your hand with a soft, reassuring smile.

During late-night talks, she’d lean in and kiss you gently, her voice soothing as she says, “You’re all I see. Nothing else matters.”

Caitlyn would take pride in making sure you never feel limited. If there’s something you can’t do because of your eyesight, she’d offer a solution or alternative with a warm smile and unwavering support.

Jinx:

Jinx would definitely make a big, dramatic show of it. She’d wave her hands in front of your face, asking, “Can you see this? What about this?!” just to make you laugh.

When you’re struggling to spot something, she’d hop on your back and point things out like a pirate’s lookout, making it a game to cheer you up.

If you wear glasses, she’d insist on decorating them with stickers or doodles, saying, “Now you’ll be cool AND functional!” She’d giggle while planting a quick kiss on your lips.

She’d secretly learn what frustrates you most about your eyesight and try to fix it in her quirky, Jinx-like way. Can’t see far? She might rig a telescope gadget for you, proudly presenting it with a kiss on your hand.

On days when you’re down, Jinx would surprise you with a flurry of kisses, peppering them all over your face until you’re laughing and feeling loved again.

Ekko:

Ekko would always notice when you’re struggling to see something, immediately stepping in to help with an encouraging smile and a cheeky, “I got you, babe.”

If you bump into something or get flustered, he’d grin and say, “You’re cute when you’re clumsy,” before kissing you gently to soothe any embarrassment.

He’d tease you lightly about your poor eyesight but would always make it clear he finds it endearing, pulling you in for a kiss and saying, “You see just fine where it matters most—right here with me.”

Ekko would love playing little games to cheer you up, like making a guessing game out of blurry objects or using his time manipulation to "rewind" your stumbles into something graceful.

He’d keep his arm around you when you're out together, using it as both a guide and a silent way of keeping you close. “You’re safe with me,” he’d whisper, leaning in to kiss your temple.

Viktor:

Viktor would carefully modify things in your environment to make them easier for you, like adding soft lights or adjusting your work tools. “A small improvement,” he’d say, his voice full of quiet pride.

If you wear glasses, Viktor would always take care of them for you, cleaning or fixing them without a second thought. “Your vision matters to me,” he’d say, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

He’d encourage you not to see your eyesight as a weakness, softly saying, “We all have limitations. But you overcome yours beautifully,” before kissing your forehead.

Viktor would love moments where you rely on him to guide you, using it as an excuse to hold your hand or pull you close.

He’d craft personalized solutions for any frustration you have, making sure you never feel like your eyesight limits your abilities or independence, always ending his gestures with a soft kiss of reassurance.

Jayce:

Jayce would constantly reassure you about your eyesight, saying, “If anything, it just makes me want to take care of you more,” before sweeping you into a warm hug and a kiss.

He’d invent practical yet adorable solutions, like a glasses case with your favorite design or a magnifying gadget you can wear around your neck for convenience.

If you ever bump into something or squint at something too long, Jayce would chuckle and ruffle your hair, saying, “You know you can just ask me for help, right?” before guiding you.

He’d love making you laugh when you’re frustrated about your vision, pulling you close and joking, “Good thing I’m here to be your eyes AND your muscles.”

During quiet moments, Jayce would hold your hands and kiss each one, looking into your eyes and saying, “You don’t need perfect sight to see how much I love you.”

Mel:

Mel would handle it with quiet grace, always ensuring you feel comfortable. She’d notice the things you struggle with and adjust without making a big deal out of it—like moving a book closer to you or pointing out details you might miss.

She’d gift you stylish, luxurious glasses or accessories, always making sure they feel like a part of your personality rather than a necessity.

When you’re squinting at something, Mel would smirk and lean in close, her breath brushing your skin as she whispers, “Need a closer look?” before kissing you sweetly.

If you ever feel frustrated, she’d sit beside you, gently holding your hand and saying, “Let me share my vision with you. Together, we can see the world clearly.”

Mel would use your eyesight as an excuse for more intimate moments—holding your face in her hands, guiding your gaze to hers, and kissing you softly to remind you that you’re loved.

Requests may be sent through the ask box. SFW only.

@self-aes request: Good day. I want to write a headcanon about a reader with poor eyesight/wearing glasses. How characters from arcane will interact with him. I want to see Vi, Caitlin, Jinx, Ekko, Victor, Jace, Mel. Sorry if you see any mistakes (English is not my preferred language, I checked with a translator)

[vampiresbloodx]

Arcane imagine.

arcane characters react to you confessing your feelings to them.

characters included: Mel medarda, Caitlyn, vi, jinx, sevika

warnings: mutual pinning, yearning, fluff, slight angst, happy ending, implied smut, flirting, kissing, yeah .

Mel medarda;

You've been crushing on Mel for the longest time, you don't even know when it started, as you two have known each other for a while now, you both were kinda friends, you were never really sure, but you always felt so close to her

She had felt the same, she liked sticking by your side, hearing about your day, your projects, what you are thinking, anything, she loved listening to you talk

It was the one thing that made her day better, and seeing your face of course

It happened so suddenly, these feelings you'd never expect just came to you, Mel was just there, and you fell in love

Not that anyone could blame you, really, she's a goddess

you always wondered why on earth she'd spend time with you, someone so beautiful, so perfect, that you can't help but always admire, no matter the time and place

When you're anxious, you think of Mel, she makes everything better

When you're alone, you think of Mel

When you're with mel, you think of her

When you spot a pretty flower, you think of Mel

One time, you unintentionally picked a couple of flowers, making them look all pretty as you practically skipped your way to where Mel would be. But she wasn't alone, jayce was there, another boy she was working with

You thought they looked close, and you started to back away from them, your heart sinking, you felt your throat get tight, god, you felt so stupid, of course she would like a man like jayce, why would she ever like you? You were always just going to be her friend

Later that same day, it had turned to night, you spent the rest of the day in bed, ignoring everything and everyone, you were hurt, confused, annoyed with yourself

You just wanted it all to go away

When you heard a knock at your door, and your eyes widened, you looked up, you were about to tell them to go away, whoever it was, that's when you heard a familiar voice

"hey, it's me."

It was Mel's.

You wanted so badly to ignore her, for her to just walk away, but you knew she wasn't going to do that, you closed your eyes and signed, eventually getting up as you walked towards the door and opened it for her

"what do you want? I'm trying to sleep..." You said, hating how you sounded speaking to her. You watched the way Mel frowned, how she looked so worried, her hand reached out and you flinched, she didn't show how much that saddend her.

"you didn't join me for dinner, I was worried. I had came to check on you, oh! I should tell you on what Jayce and I have been up to so far-"

You shook your head, turning away as your back faced her, "I don't wanna hear about him."

That was all Mel needed to hear.

She smiled, stepping closer to you as she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you in, you tried to protect but nothing came out and she wasn't letting you go anyways

There was no point

"tell me what's wrong, I know what you're like when you try and push others away, don't do that to me, please" she murmured, her voice soft and calming in your ears as you stared at the ground

you felt your eyes water

"I like you, Mel" you sniffled, you were ready for her to leave, for your friendship to be over. "I've always liked you Mel, more than how friends should like one another, I just I was so scared. But then I saw you with Jayce, and I got jealous, I grew distant, because I couldn't face you, I couldn't look at you in the eyes the same, knowing that he can be better for you than I could ever be."

For a moment, you didn't hear anything, you still heard her breathing from behind you as your heart thumped loudly in your chest.

Then she forced you to turn around and look into her eyes as her hand grabbed your chin, "you mean more to me than anyone could ever be, Why would you think such things?, you're more than my friend, you're my love, my laughter, my everything, this is all I ever wanted to hear from you" Mel said, she smiled so brightly, she looked gorgeous, you wanted to kiss her

You caressed her cheek with her hand, "can... Can I?" You were hesitant to ask, she chuckled, crashing her lips against yours, you melted into the kiss, wanting to stay here forever and ever, she tasted like strawberries and honey, you never wanted to get rid of that taste

Caitlyn;

Caitlyn knew there was something off about you the moment you stopped talking to her as much like you usually would

She found it strange, so unlike you, she looked forward to seeing you whenever she could and hear your voice

But as of lately, she's been alone and missing a certain someone, you

She's been talking to Jayce and wondering what to do and how she can help you if there is anything going on, she'd want to help, she was your friend, your best friend even

So it hurt her when you suddenly stopped hanging out with her

She couldn't stop thinking about you, if she had done anything to cause this, she was freaking herself out

She had even gone to Viktor and ask for his advice, he was sort of helpful, but it wasn't like he was cupid and had the best advice for crushing on your friend

Caitlyn missed you, a lot

She went to your place to find you, surprisingly, you weren't there, she looked at the library, she didn't see you, eventually, she did find you, sitting outside by a tree, you looked so pretty, she couldn't help but admire, she ran up to you, excited, she needed to be around you again

"Cait?..." You said, looking surprised, she wasn't sure why you would be, she didn't say anything and just hugged you tightly

You hugged her back

"where have you been? I've been looking everywhere for you, you had me worried" Caitlyn's words came out rushed, you smiled at her.

"can you sit with me?" You asked.

She happily did.

"what's going on? Did something happen?-"

"Cait, let me speak."

You had cut her off before she could even finish asking more, she immediately shut up, she knew you needed to take your time to gather your words, she wanted to touch you again, but she restrained herself

"there's been a lot on my mind, that's why I haven't seen you, but I need to tell you something" you said, she can see the way you were fidgeting with your fingers, a thing you do when you're nervous, then you just randomly stood up, pacing back and forth.

"whatever you have to tell me won't be that bad-" Caitlyn tried to reassure, still you didn't listen

"I like you" you shouted at her, she blinked.

"you what?" She muttered, still processing your words

"I know this was a bad idea to tell you how I really felt, but I had to, I couldn't not tell you, I really fucking like you, Caitlyn" you said, it almost looked like you were on the verge of tears

Caitlyn stood up, you stared up at her expecting the worst, but then she cupped your face and kissed you

That alone told you enough of what she really meant, as you kissed her back, smiling

Vi;

You have always liked Vi for as long as you've known her, that wasn't anything new, anyone who's ever met you knows about your crush on her, except for one person, Vi

She's always claimed not to be an oblivious person, but people who know her also know that's obvious to see from a mile away

Vi has always been a good friend to you, more than anyone has ever been

Ekko, one of your other friends, has been telling you to confess your crush to Vi for years, yeah, it's not something that's new, you two have known each other for ages, Ekko has been through it all witnessing it, and he just wants you to tell her already

"Ekko, I don't know. I don't wanna ruin what I have with her" you muttered, the two of you were hanging out one night, catching up over snacks and games, you hear him chuckle

"you won't, trust me. I wouldn't be telling you to do this if I wasn't sure."

He was right about that. You've always trusted Ekko no matter what it is, he's always had a good heart

and almost most of the time he was always right

Just maybe things will go okay, if you told Vi how you really feel, she won't stop being your friend, but the fact that everyone else can see your crush on her except for her you just weren't sure

Even when you think you know her, you still can't wrap your head around her

You had planned to tell her this Friday night, where you know she'd always meet at your hangout spot, you wanted to make it look pretty, make it feel special, also it was an excuse to distract yourself from what tonight was actually for

Ekko had helped picked out the music, Vi has always liked metal and punk rock, you were sure in another lifetime she would be in a band

you had gotten the snacks, her favorites and yours, including the drinks and the gift you wanted to give her, you've set up a blanket and pillows down for you both

Your heart felt like it was beating so hard it could rip out of your chest any minute

You checked the time and your eyes widened, she was going to be here any second, fuck

You tried to stop pacing around, before you knew it she had arrived right on time, she greeted you with a smile and immediately hugged you, your cheeks warmed as you hugged her back, god you missed her so much

"what's the special occasion?" She asks with a raised eyebrow, biting her cherry as she laid down onto the blankets. "Everything looks so nice, and you got me my favorites? You spoil me."

You smiled, sitting down with her as you contemplated even telling her how you really felt, with how pretty she looks right now, you so badly wanted to kiss her

"I may have something" you said, finally able to get your words together. "Actually yes, I need to tell you something, vi" you hated how you were stuttering, you bit down on your bottom lip as you avoided her gaze.

"what's up, angel?" She said with a grin, she's always called you that, it's been her personal nickname made for you, it's always made you flustered

"Vi, I like... " You paused, trying to actually look into her eyes without looking away, "I like you."

Vi smiled, she looked like she didn't get it at first

"I like you to, angel" she chuckled.

You shake your head.

"no, vi, I actually like like you, I wanna be your girlfriend."

God you couldn't believe you actually told her

you waited for her to reject you, to just stand up and leave, but she didn't do any of that, instead Vi pulled you in closer, pressing her lips to yours as she kissed you hard, you gasped into her mouth, processing whats happening, that she's kissing you, her lips feel so soft against your own, your hand reached up to cup her face

She pulled away, letting you two have a moment to catch your breath as you felt ecstatic, "vi..."

"I've always liked you too, I'm glad you told me. I was actually planning on telling you myself, I didn't know when but you bet me to it, I'm glad you did, because this was the best, it was perfect."

You smiled, leaning in as your nose brushed against hers, she grabbed you by the shirt, making you fall into her as the night was not over just yet

Jinx;

Jinx had always been by your side for as long as you've known her, you have always been by hers, and she's always been by yours, that's just how you two were, when you met, it was an instant click, it was rare for jinx to experience that, so she kept you by for as long as she can

She loves everything about you, your entire personality, how no matter what you always make her day better, you were different, you meant a lot to her

She meant a lot to you as well

More than she'd ever know

Despite all that was happening, what you two have been through, you have always defended her, even when you didn't have to

She appreciates that, even if she doesn't tell you herself

It's like you somehow knew

She needed you, when Vi left, she needed you the most

You were one of the very few that stuck around, and you weren't going anywhere anytime soon

Jinx notices something was up when you weren't showing up to her place like you'd usually be, you were always around, as of late, she didn't see much of you

She wondered why

Did she do something wrong? Are you finally realizing you're better off without her?

No, she couldn't think like that

She was able to easily find you again, you were standing by yourself on an edge, she was concerned, extremely worried, she was so happy to see you again, but she knew she shouldn't rush you

"hey" you said, she didn't even say anything yet you knew she was here

"hi" she smiled, "what are you doing out here? It's cold" she starts to take off her jacket, she always gave you something to wear even if you don't need it right then

You let her put it on

You've always looked so pretty in her clothes

"you know, you'd be a good model, definitely have the body for it" she chuckles with a grin, unable to keep her eyes off you. She saw the way you looked down, how you smiled, she felt proud of that, a little bit cocky too. "You okay? You wanna tell me what's up? You've been avoiding me. You know how I am when people try to ignore me" she couldn't help but pout.

You turn to face her, finally looking at her, she smiles at the sight of you. "I know, I'm sorry about that, a lot has been on my mind. Jinx, there's something I have to tell you, I can't hide it anymore."

She frowned, unsure of what you meant, were you planning on leaving her? Moving away forever? Was she not going to be able to see you ever again? So many thoughts clouded her

But what you told her was nothing she was expecting

"I like you, Jinx, for so long, I've liked you, and no, not in the platonic way, yes, that too, I mean you've meant something more to me for a long time" you said, staring into her gaze as her mouth hangs open, you what?

She rushes to you, wrapping her arms around you tightly as she feels like she could almost cry, good tears this time, her heart was beating so fast she laughed loudly

"why didn't you tell me sooner?" She grinned, cupping your face with both of her hands like you were her entire world, you are, you've always been. "I've liked you since forever, idiot, jeez, finally one of us came clean about it. I was gonna make a dramatic reveal to you but this was so you. I like it. I really like you too. A lot. Please be mine."

And you happily did, you kissed her, that night was the best night of your lives.

Sevika;

Sevika wasn't an easy woman to read, some people have found it hard to even get under her skin, find out what makes her tick, what makes her squirm, loose balance

But you'd be a fool to test her

Then again, you were always known to be a foolish one

When people see you two together, they can't see it, you were brighter, much bubbly, always smiling then there was Sevika, scary, intimating, will kill you with one look

You two were total opposites, no one could understand how you worked so well together

But you just made it work

You were the book smart to Sevika's street smart, which is why silco partnered you with his most trusted a lot, she couldn't exactly argue with it at first, she still did, complaining about having to babysit you, despite the fact that she wasn't that much older than you anyways

Okay, maybe by a few years older, but you didn't need a god damn babysitter

She knew how to piss you off, and you knew how to annoy her as well

It went back and forth, at first, you two fought a lot,there were a lot of misunderstandings, people were even nervous to get in between you both, you two were just so loud about everything that only silco can shut you both up

Eventually, after a while, a long while, things started to settle, and Sevika understood why silco picked you

She knew he wouldn't pick any random person, he had his reasons

Then something weird started to happen, she grew more protective over you, sure, she knew she was already protective of those she cared most, but you, she wasn't sure about, it just happened all of a sudden, if anyone was bothering you, hell, if anyone tried to hurt you, hell would be unleashed

Jinx would always mock her of how much she protects you and will do anything for you, Sevika tries to fight it, her stubbornness winning, but as soon as she sees you, her walls are being cut down, forced to let you see her, as she watches you from afar, admiring your work and talents, how much dedication and time you put into things, she's actually impressed by you

The first time she ever complimented you had you feeling all giddy for weeks, months even, you wanted nothing more than to be praised by her again

Jinx was over it

How much you talked about her, how pretty she is, she'd literally gagged at how love sick you were about her, she was so tempted to shove you both in a closet to hurry the hell up and get it over with

But she knew sevika would kill her

Then again, she's reached a point where she couldn't care less

When Jinx was able to get you two alone together to finally actually talk things out, she did, she was gonna make it work, even if she had to be dramatic and pull a little strings

She would live with the fact that Sevika was gonna be pissed at her for a long time, possibly forever if this goes terribly wrong, but she doubts it would

It was a late Saturday night, everyone was still awake and hanging around, Sevika was sitting at the bar, right where Jinx told her where to meet, Jinx watched as you finally showed up, looking all nice as she grinned, walking away from it, letting it all play out

"Sevika?" You muttered, confused to see her there

But fuck did she look good

She frowned at the sight of you, about to say something, but her words fell flat at what you were wearing, you looked beautiful

Like really fucking gorgeous

"you look... Nice."

Your cheeks warmed at that, hearing her compliment you as you looked away from her gaze that was too intense for you

"yeah, I was told you'd be here... Jinx told me you wanted to speak to me about something important."

Then it clicked to her.

"fuckin' jinx" she groaned, shoving her glass away. "She set us up."

"what?" You said, dumbfounded, going to sit next to her.

There was a pause, you stared in the distance, distracted, she stared at you more, admiring your features, how pretty you looked in that dress

She's never seen you wear something so formal

It suited you

She bit down on her bottom lip, all of a sudden feeling nervous to speak

"how do you feel about us?" You asked, still not looking at her, she frowned

"us?" She repeated.

You nodded, turning your head to look at her in the eyes

"yeah, me and you. We're a good team, you make a good partner" you say. She felt her heart skip a beat, what the fuck was happening? Why were you being so nice to her?

"what is it" she muttered, "just tell me what you want."

"huh?" You looked confused.

"fuckin' hell" she groaned, running a hand through her hair. "Tell me."

"I like you" you spat out before you could even think.

She raised an eyebrow at you.

"say that again?."

"sevika" you sighed, she liked the way her name sounded coming from your lips, she wanted to hear it again. "This is already awkward as fuck, I like you, okay, fuck, I never hated you, well, maybe at some point I disliked you, at the start, but even then, you're a goddess, fucking look at you, your stunning, anyone would fall for that."

That took her off guard, definitely not what she was expecting

"if you want to cuss me out and stop being partners I'll accept I-"

She shut you up with her lips, pressing herself into you as you almost fell off your stool. She grabbed onto you as you held on tight, kissing her hard, as you moaned into her mouth.

After a while, she didn't want to stop kissing you, neither did you want to stop, you both broke away breathless, pressing your foreheads against each others

"come to mine?" She says with a smile

It's not often you see Sevika smile

"lead the way."

[milktiicup]

need more of ur scarletella dear lord…. i love how u write mc too <3 could i perhaps request some fluff w our dear mr scarletella? maybe him teaching u words and like. making u say ‘me like you’ or smth HAHAH i feel like he would

probably not the best teacher...!

He places his hand over his heart and says, “Me like you.” You blink. Once. Twice. Thrice. “Wait, hold on- are you just sneaking in compliments now?”

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🌊 ⋅ ˚✮ probably not my best work ;;w;; sorry about that

warnings. nooooone at all!

You furrow your brows, and point to the chair. “Table,” you grumble. Mr. Scarletella stares, and stares, and stares. Your mouth tugs into a frown. “Chair…?”

He smiles. You breathe a sigh through your nose. This language learning business was hard… considering it wasn’t even a human language, you’d think you’re doing at least a little okay. 

Probably a little below average, realistically. 

Mr. Scarletella tilts his head, his dull eyes hinting at the amusement he feels. You scowl. He steps closer, umbrella hanging loosely in one hand, the other gesturing toward the chair. “Chair,” he repeats slowly, his voice deep and deliberate, as if coaxing a child.

You sigh, crossing your arms. “That’s what I said! Chair.”

“Not ‘table.’”

Your frown deepens, and you can feel the embarrassment heat up your neck. “I know, I know! It’s just- you could cut me some slack, you know. Your language isn’t exactly easy.”

Mr. Scarletella crouches slightly, bringing himself eye level with you, his expression softening as his gaze lingers into yours. It took all of your will to not look away. What an intense gaze. Jesus… “You try,” he says simply, the words low and soothing. “Good.”

Your frustration melts, and your shoulders untense. You exhale through your nose- what were you even so worked up for? Mr. Scarletella is the most patient person- monster?- you know at the moment, but he isn’t exactly the best teacher… Mr. Silvair was probably better, and yet, Mr. Scarletella insisted he teach you instead.

And by insisted, he just appeared before any time you were walking into Mr. Silvair’s room and whisked you away. Maybe teleported is a better word.

“Let’s try again,” you decide. You point. “Chair. Table. Wall. Ceiling. Floor… Uhm… lamp? Light…” You frown, but Mr. Scarletella doesn’t interrupt you. You suppose they mean the same thing. You’re not too fussed about that. 

Your teacher points to himself. “Me,” he says. He points again. “You.”

You huff. “Me. You. I know that already… Do you think I’m that stupid, huh?”  

He hums thoughtfully, a sound that resonates in his chest more than his throat. Mr. Scarletella stands to his full height, looking down upon you with those dull eyes, then with a deliberate slowness, he points to his chest once more. “Me.”

“Yes, I know, ‘me,’” you repeat, mimicking his motion half-heartedly.

He moves his hand, hovering just shy of your chest. “You.”

“Yeah, I get it- ‘you.’ This is basic stuff.” You cross your arms. “What’s the point of this?”

He places his hand over his heart and says, “Me like you.”

You blink. Once. Twice. Thrice. “Wait, hold on- are you just sneaking in compliments now?” Mr. Scarletella is silent, and points to you again, as if silently saying ‘Your turn.’ You sigh, rubbing the back of your neck. “This feels so weird,” you mumble. You mirror him, pointing to your chest awkwardly. “Me…”

He nods approvingly, his umbrella twitching slightly almost as if he can’t possibly wait for those words to come out of your mouth. You bite the inside of your cheek. “…like you,” you finish, the words feeling clunky on your tongue.

Mr. Scarletella’s smiles, his features softening in a way you rarely see. It isn’t one of those creepy smiles that you’re used to seeing- it’s a small smile, a soft one. It’s subtle but unmistakable- an expression of quiet pride. He leans forward slightly, his umbrella tilting to rest against your shoulder and covering you, as if he was caging you in, as if he wouldn’t possibly let you away from this moment. His unblinking gaze meets yours once again.

“Good,” he says, voice as steady and low as ever, but there’s an unspoken warmth in it. He doesn’t move away, doesn’t break the intensity of his focus. If you weren’t in some different world right now, this would totally be the type of moment where people would kiss.

You swallow. Your heart is thudding almost uncomfortably in your chest. “We’re supposed to be practising your language,” you grumble. 

“Practice good,” he counters.

You roll your eyes, though it’s mostly to distract yourself from the way your stomach twists at his words. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

His umbrella is back over his head again. He steps closer again, waaaay to close in your personal space- but you don’t think you’re complaining about that, not right now, anyway… Mr. Scarletella’s hand hovers near your cheek, but never quite touching. You can feel how cold his skin is, even without the skin-to-skin contact. “Again,” he says.

“Again?” you reply, feigning cluelessness. The way his lips tug up at the corner makes it clear he knows you’re just stalling.

“Me,” he begins, his hand briefly pressing to his chest before extending toward you, “like you.”

You groan, dragging a hand down your face. “You’re relentless.”

“Say,” he insists softly, his voice coaxing.

Your breath catches. It’s hard to say no when he looks at you like that- calm and unwavering, with just enough patience to make you feel like maybe this whole thing isn’t as ridiculous as it seems. You sigh, your resolve crumbling. “Me… like you,” you mutter again, the words barely above a whisper.

Mr. Scarletella’s reaction is immediate. His dark eyes light up in a way that’s barely perceptible but undeniably there. He steps even closer, his hand finally brushing against your cheek, the coolness of his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

“Good,” he says simply, the word carrying more weight than it should.

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your ears. “Okay, so we’ve established that I like you and you like me. Can we move on now?”

His thumb grazes your cheek, the faintest of movements. “Not move,” he replies. “Stay.”

You narrow your eyes at him, half-annoyed, half-flustered. “Stay where?”

“Here. With me.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, turning away to hide your face. “You’re ridiculous.”

Mr. Scarletella hums a noise in agreement, completely unbothered. Before you can respond, he takes your hand gently, his grip firm, and tugs you toward him. You stumble slightly, but he steadies you with an ease that makes your heart skip.

“Again,” he murmurs, his voice dropping into a tone so soft it feels almost intimate. “Want again.”

You look up at him, and the sincerity in his gaze makes it impossible to argue. With a resigned sigh, you let your hand rest against your chest and repeat, “Me… like you.”

“Good,” he says again, pulling you just a little closer. “Now… stay.”

[thrfted]

꩜ DATING MR. CRAWLING .ᐟ

SFW GN!Reader HCS after the blissful love life ending.

Italics is in the other world’s language! Sometimes more the implied message rather than a direct translation. I'll probably do Mr. Hood later too :3 !

Your bed is much more comfortable than anything in the other world, and it only makes it better that mr. Crawling gets to be in it with you. He grows accustomed to your nightly routine and is always excited to cuddle up. Big spoon, little spoon, facing each other—all of it makes him as happy as can be!

(^ As someone who still has a twin size, some of us have to invest in a much bigger one lol)

Generally so so affectionate and loves when you’re physically affectionate !! You can kiss his head and he’ll giggle, maybe point at his face and ask “Again!” You leave kisses all over his face, and his hands pull you in close when you finally kiss his lips.

One of Mr. Crawling's strongest traits is his patience—especially when it comes to you. The first day you come home without him trailing behind (much to his dismay, and honestly yours), he’s at the door to greet you, smiling and giggling as you wrap your arms around him. You find out he hadn’t done much but wait for you to come home. (With no complaints of boredom on his part, and all the worry on yours.)

He'll sit as you play with his hair, trying out new hairstyles or putting in clips. “Me cute? Pretty?” he asks. And if you let him do the same in return, he'll giggle and compliment you too.

I think he’d look through your closet and enjoy watching you try on clothes too. He compliments you and feels each of the fabrics, liking the ones that feel softest. He might try on some of the accessories if none of the actual clothes (sort of…) fit, and is really happy when you match!

Mr. Crawling is a fast learner. You worry he'll feel overwhelmed with all the new technology and words and whatever else, so you focus on making sure he’s comfortable. But he points at things and ask what they are, repeating after you. “You teach me language?” he asks and you laugh softly before nodding. “I teach you language.”

He will accidentally touch a hot stove top or pot if you don't remember to warn him beforehand. Then whenever you cook he gets worried you'll hurt yourself, watching to make sure you're alright (forgive him if he pulls your hand away and says “Danger! Don't touch!”)

Since he doesn't know his birthday, you make the day you returned special instead! He's happy to just stay in with you, eating a good meal and watching or learning something new.

Mr. Crawling also learns when yours is and does his best to make it a good day for you too. He tries singing happy birthday and makes food with what you have at home, mimicking the meals he's seen you prepare.

You teach him how to call your phone while you're away. It's supposed to “be for emergencies,” but you both know he's going to call just to hear your voice, and who are you to complain?

I think he gets sad sometimes when he sees or hears you talking to friends—the way you communicate and laugh so easily compared to conversations with him. The other world's language itself is limited, and he hasn't learned enough of your own. You spend some evenings reassuring him, reminding him learning is a process, and it doesn't change your feelings!!

He does his best to learn on his own. You buy (exercise) books and show him shows for younger kids and he spends a lot of time alone with them, both to surprise you, and also just because he loves talking with you and wants to talk more and more.

The first time he speaks your language is a special day. After many days of calling out that you’re back, he decides to say it himself. “You home!” You almost drop everything in your hands, and that’s when he continues, “Miss you.” It feels odd hearing it in his voice, but he’s grinning so wide, and you won’t find out for a while just how excited and nervous he was waiting for you to get home.

One of Mr. Crawling’s favourite things to say and hear is “I love you.” Every time you say it, he gets all giddy and tries to get closer to you (as if that’s possible while already cuddling in bed). He says it a lot while you’re doing chores or really nothing, just to remind you and see you smile. There’s no way in his mind for those 3 words to lose their meaning, or become any less special.

[girllblogging777]

hi congrats on 1k!! can i please request a cinnamon tinged tale with mattheo riddle with a scenario where they have a fight and go to bed seperate but they both can’t sleep without each other!!

𝑈𝑁𝑆𝑃𝑂𝐾𝐸𝑁 𝑃𝑅𝑂𝑀𝐼𝑆𝐸𝑆 ˚ ༘✶

↳ bf!mattheo riddle x reader (angst, fluff)

↳ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 : 1.5k

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 :you and your boyfriend can’t sleep without eachother, but you had an argument

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

mattheo’s dorm was unnaturally quiet tonight. no whispers, no soft rustling of sheets, no stolen glances or quiet giggles. just silence, cold and deafening. he laid flat on his back, arms crossed behind his head, his jaw tense as he stared up at the dark ceiling of his room. the argument replaying in his mind on an endless, bitter loop.

he exhaled sharply through his nose. maybe he was an idiot like you had told him. scratch that. he definitely was. your words, heated and full of hurt, had ricocheted off the walls like a spell gone wrong. and instead of deflecting, instead of softening, he’d snapped back with the kind of sharpness he reserved for enemies. not for you. never for you.

but now you were gone. well, not gone-gone, but you weren’t here. you had stormed out of his dorm, muttering something about needing “space.” space. mattheo didn’t even know what to do with space.

his mind wandered to you. where were you now ? back in your own bed, curled up with that damn blanket you refused to replace no matter how many times he teased you about it? where you crying? did you hate him?

the ache in his chest tightened, like a hand gripping his heart. he turned to his side, punching the pillow beneath him in frustration. he needed you, your scent of cinnamon, your quiet murmurs before sleep, the way your hand would instinctively find his beneath the covers. without you, the room felt emptier than it had any right to.

across the castle, you sat cross-legged on your bed, staring out the window. the moon hung low, bathing the grounds in silver light, but your thoughts were anything but serene.

why had you said those things? you hadn’t meant to snap at him. it wasn’t his fault he was reckless, it was just who he was. you knew that, knew it better than anyone. but still, watching him flirt with danger, walking that fine line between thrill and disaster, it drove you insane. you cared too much to stay silent.

you sighed, hugging your knees to your chest. the bed felt too big, too cold without him. even on nights you two argued, you would always ended up tangled together, legs overlapping, breaths mingling. it was impossible to stay away from him and not to break the castle’s rules by sneaking into each other’s rooms past curfew. but tonight, you were alone.

minutes stretched into hours and you kept tossing and turning, thinking about him. at the same moment, mattheo swung his legs out of bed, running a hand through his messy curls. he didn’t care if he’d get caught. he didn’t care if you were still angry. he needed to see you.

suddenly, your bedroom door swung open and you turned around, eyes widening. “mattheo ?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. he stood there, unsure of what to say “i uh… i can’t sleep…”

“neither can i,” you admitted softly, watching him intently.

he stepped closer, his hand twitching at his sides. “i’m sorry, baby. i was a dick. you were just trying to look out for me and i lashed out, it wasn’t fair.”

your heart clenched at his honest words and you looked up at him, “i shouldn’t have pushed you, matt, i just worry about you too much. and sometimes, i feel like i care more about you than you do”

his brows furrowed and he finally reached out, his hand softly brushing against your cheek. “i do care. about me. about us. but i’m just… stupid sometimes.”

you couldn’t help but huff out a small laugh, leaning into his touch. “yup, you are.”

a ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. “does that mean i’m forgiven ?” you pretended to think a moment before answering, sighing. “only if you stay.”

and he didn’t need to be told twice.

moments later, you two were tangled together in your bed, your head resting on his chest as his fingered traced lazy, absentminded patterns on your back. neither of you spoke at first. the quiet felt sacred, too delicate to shatter. but mattheo couldn’t let it end there, not when he had so much to say.

“i don’t ever wanna go to bed mad at you again.” he murmured, his voice soft but heavy with meaning. his fingers stilled against your back, waiting for your response.

you tilted your head up, your chin resting on his chest as your eyes met his. “me neither,” you whispered back, “i hate how it feels, matt.”

he nodded, his hand moving to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your soft skin in the dark. “i know, love,” he admitted, “it feels wrong. everything feels wrong without you. i’m sorry i made you feel like i don’t care.” he paused for a second and you waited, silent.

“i care, baby. i care so much if scares the hell out of me sometimes.”

you could see it in his eyes, the way his walls had crumbled entirely for you and how painful that felt for him. mattheo riddle, who always unshakeably confident, was laying himself bare for you.

“i know,” you said in a steady voice. you reached up, your hand curling around his wrist. “but i’ll keep worrying about you, you know ? that’s not gonna change..”

he chuckled, the sound now and warm in the quiet room. “i figured, love. i don’t deserve you.”

“damn right you don’t,” you teased, your lips twitching into a genuine smile. then your voice softened “ but that doesn’t mean i’m going anywhere.”

the tension in mattheo’s body eased at your words, and he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping tightly around you as to shield you from the world. you felt the way his lips brushed against the top of your head, a soft gesture that made your heart flutter.

“i love you,” he said quietly, the words slipping out as naturally as breathing.

“i love you too,” you whispered back, your fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt as your heart pounded against your chest.

for the first time that night, the heavy weight between you lifted and the two of you stayed like that, your breaths syncing and limbs tangled in complete and utter peace. because no matter how messy you were, how much you clashed or stumbled, you always found your way back to eachother.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

a/n : tysm for this amazing idea ! tell me if you wanna be tagged and check out my 1k celebration for more !

@redeemingvillains @leona-hawthorne @shiftingwithmars @tateshifts @rose-of-the-grave @clar2aa @iris-qt @sp7-mr @deadghosy @deadsnakey @helendeath @jolly4holly @larmesdevanille @dexoq @shiftingwithleah @sunkissedscribbles @chelawrites @myunperfektstorys @yikesitslush @slut-for-fictional-men @romantasyreader28 @witchsrecs @mattiesgf @reidol0gy @kenjikishimotoswifey @2dloveshp @hisparentsgallerryy @riddlesgrl

[ukkoperkele]

Just to share my own thoughts, I don't think that was the point. @fortunatelyginger

The article is not taking the male perspective into account since this time the writer is focused on girls. I doubt she was bringing up girls' and women's problems in her book about men's problems either, because that wasn't her focus. Not focusing on the male perspective in this article doesn't makes boys' and men's experiences with bullying from women any less real.

The article is showing one possible explanation why teenage girls are feeling unwell. These girls are telling about their experiences with harsh online and in-person bullying from these certain boys in their school. Not from men as a whole. It is also true that people who are struggling are more likely to take their anger and sadness out on others especially without proper support or knowledge about healthy coping mechanisms. Boys still often lack support.

Regular cruel comments and sexualization are undoubtedly a valid cause for someone to start feeling unwell. Teenagers are at an age where their identity and emotional regulation skills are still developing. Receiving this kind of treatment will usually take a bigger toll on teens than adults.

It's been a while since I was a teen, but I remember this kind of bullying from both girls and boys. Both also received it. Teens in general can be cruel as hell.

However, in my experience teenage boys were doing this kind of bullying more often, or at least they were generally more aggressive and open about it than girls. The worst bullies were usually from dysfunctional families. Girls also usually had, and most likely still have, more pressure than boys when it comes to looks, and that pressure is not only coming from boys. This is an indivual experience, but I wouldn't be surprised if this was still the case in some schools.

Andrew Tate has some good points when it comes to self-improvement, but he also has more harmful takes on human value and mental health. "This is why women should not vote, they're morons" comment after a (trans)woman was expressing stress over elections is not something I would like my own sons to hear or look up to. Someone like HealthyGamer, a Harvard trained psychiatrist focusing especially on boy's and men's mental health, would be a better choice.

Tate's followers from what I've seen are not usually the kindest to women, some of them being blatantly hateful online. When young impressionable boys who have no proper critical thinking skills or media literacy skills yet see this kind of content and comments, there is a risk they will absorb all the things they're fed, including hatred towards women, without a second thought. They don't have the maturity to pick the genuinely helpful tips and ignore the rest. This in turn can affect the way they treat girls and women in their close circle. I think this is what the article was trying to convey by mentioning Tate.

These bullies might not be the only or the main reason why girls are unwell, but it is certainly still a serious problem that parents and teachers should pay more attention to. Teenagers are old enough to understand right from wrong. Behavior like this needs to be corrected not only in boys, but in teens in general.

Social media is creating more apathetic and cruel kids. You can also see it from the way those boys reacted to a fellow boy trying to stand up for her. Basic human decendy shouldn't be ridiculed or seen as something negative.

Why are British teenage girls so unhappy? Here’s the answer (Caitlin Moran, The Times, Sep 13 2024)

"The report, by the Children’s Society, found that British 15-year-old girls are the most unhappy in Europe.

British girls aged 10-15 are “significantly less happy” with their life, appearance, family and school than the average boy — and their happiness is still declining.

Boys’ life satisfaction, meanwhile, remains broadly stable. (…)

But I still didn’t have an “aha!” moment about why this so disproportionately affects girls until… I talked to some teenage girls.

It was at a party, and I went to vape with them on the patio. Because I take my nicotine like children do.

“Duh — it’s the boys,” one said when I brought it up, as all the others agreed.

“The boys?” I asked.

My last book, What About Men?, had been all about how much boys struggle these days: their loneliness; their suicide rates. I’d spent the past year feeling very sympathetic towards boys.

“Yeah, well, who do you think they’re taking out their unhappiness on? It’s us,” another girl said.

“One boy at school used to draw a picture every day of how ugly I was,” a third girl said. “Every day for two years.”

“They’ve all got ‘Rate The Girls’ polls on their WhatsApps,” the first said. “They mark you down for weight gain, haircuts, what you say.”

“But then, if you’re hot, it’s just as bad, in a different way, because they’ll be talking about how they want to f*** you.”

The girls discussed coping techniques. Bad news: none of them worked.

“The only way you can stop them is if you become ‘one of the boys’ and hang out with them. But then,” the second girl said with a sigh, “all the other girls call you a slut. Because you’ve gone over to the boys’ side.”

“Surely it’s not all the boys?” I said. “There must be some nice boys?”

“Oh, yeah,” one girl said. “But they keep their heads down. Because… well, look.”

She showed me the Instagram account of her friend. Under every picture she posted of herself — smiling in a new dress; with her dog — dozens of anonymous accounts had replied with the most rank abuse.

“Fat.” “Slut.” “You gonna try and kill yourself again, for attention?”

“They’re all boys from her school,” she said. “And look, this one boy tried to defend her.”

I saw a series of messages from a brave teenage boy, posting things like, “You’re all big men, leaving these replies under anonymous accounts.”

As I could see, this boy immediately became a target too. Mainly accusations that he was “white knighting” this girl: “You wanna f*** her, bro?”

“So,” I asked, “you don’t think it’s social media pressure to be beautiful, or the economy, that’s making girls so sad?”

“Well, yeah, them too,” the first girl said. “But, Monday-Friday, 9-3, I’m not on social media. I’m not… in the economy. I’m just with these boys. And no one talks about how horrible they are.”

I thought about another recent report, showing a 30 per cent ideological gap between Gen Z men, who are increasingly conservative, and Gen Z women, who are increasingly progressive.

I thought about Andrew Tate, who has nine million mostly young male followers — and faces human trafficking charges, which he denies.

And I thought: maybe these girls are on to something. Maybe more people need to vape with teenage girls and ask them for the school gossip."

[mrsmnsn]

“It looks better on you anyway…”

summary: you’ve been dating for a while and, to make you officially his, Eddie gives you something very special….

*no warnings only fluff (ok maybe there’s a bit of a suggestive content here but nothing too serious)*

(i had this draft for a while now and i loooove this headcannon! hope you like it as much as i do)

“What do you mean by it’s not official?” You desperately asked Robin

“Wait a minute, i didn’t say that! It is official, just not official official.” She says sipping her drink.

“Robin you’re not making any sense right now.” Nancy replies seeing how nervous you got.

The three of you were having a girls night at a bar, only to gossip, have some drinks and celebrate womanhood. But now, after a few drinks, you shared with the girls your story with Eddie and how it was when you finally got to be together. It was actually so casual and simple because Eddie knew you didn’t like to cause a big scene and to have all attention to you. So you had a nice date and on the way back to your house, before you could get in, he asked if you wanted to be his girl and if he could be your boyfriend. You didn’t waist a minute and involved him in a hug and a lot of kisses.

“I’m just saying that some couples like to make a gesture to make it official, so everyone else can see they’re taken. And, in your case, that’s not what happened.” Robin explains herself and now your head was thinking of all the things Eddie might have given to you

“Didn’t you hear her story? That was exactly the opposite Eddie was trying to do, he wanted to be a special moment for just the two of them. I think that’s very sweet of him.” Nancy and Robin keep arguing when it comes to you

“So you’re saying that hypothetically he was supposed to give me something, like a ring?” You interrupt them making both girls look at you

“He’s not supposed to do anything, but yes, that’s what i meant.” She replied and then started to tell a story about one of her old friends.

By the end of the night, Eddie picks you up and takes you to his place, as you agreed. You were going to spend the weekend with him.

“Hey pretty girl! How was girls night?” He kisses the top of you head and help you get in his van.

“It was very nice, but you know how Robin can get very excited about some stuff and how Nancy doesn’t agree with her but still tries to be nice and it goes on and on.” He laughs at your words and he enters the van too. “But you’ll see, i’m still going to make them become best friends!”

You keep talking about your night to him and you two stay in a comfortable silence listening to one of his Black Sabbath tapes until you get to his home. He turns off the car and before he could hop off, you stop him.

“What is it sweetheart?” He asked looking at your face, searching for something wrong.

“Can i ask you something?” You look at his hands full of rings holding yours.

“Of course you can, you can ask me anything.” He said and his tone couldn’t be sweeter

“Earlier we were taking about dating and the girls asked me how it was when you asked to be my boyfriend, and i told them. But Robin said that even though it was the most teeth-rotting story ever there was something wrong, something was missing…”

Eddie was scared of your next words but still encouraged you to continue.

“She said that normally, after a while, it’s common for the guy to give to his girlfriend something, like a gesture or a gift i don’t know. But that’s supposed to be like an affirmation of the relationship… You know what, forget it, it’s fucking stupid.” You give up on telling him what you wanted and turn to leave the car.

“Hey hey, wait a minute. There’s nothing stupid about that! You can take your time, but i want to hear it.” Eddie says, giving your hands gentle rubs.

“I feel stupid asking you this, and you know how you are my first boyfriend so i’m not sure how things are supposed to be now…” You organize the words in your head before you tell him. “Alright, hm, I was going to ask if maybe you plan to do that… i don’t want you to give me anything, and i know we’re not dating for a impressive long time and maybe we’re supposed to wait a bit more for that, i don’t even know if you are expecting me to give something to you. I am a bit lost…” You said everything too fast and got lost on your own words. But Eddie listened to you very carefully and understood what was happening.

“Are you saying that you want something, this ‘gesture’, to officialize our relationship?” He asked and looked at your eyes “Well, i wasn’t actually thinking of giving you something right now, but now that you said that i’m thinking of something here…” He let go of your hands and put them behind his neck. “ I really like the idea of people seeing that you are taken, that you are only mine… turn around, please.”

You were confused but still, you turn around and you can feel him getting closer. So close that your back is hitting his chest. He starts to whisper when you see him put his necklace in front of you.

“What do you think babe?” His soft voice rings in your ear and you admire his hands holding his necklace that you always made sure to tell him how much you loved it on him, of how attractive he looked with the pick hanging over his chest. “I know how much you like this, and imagine that… you walking around with this very specific necklace around your neck. This screams ‘i have a fucking man, he’s a rockstar, a hottie, and im all fucking his’. Uh, i loved that!”

You were smiling and blushing at his words as he lifted your hair up and put the necklace on you. You didn’t know what to say and got all nervous but you were relieved he liked your idea.

“I loved it Eds, thank you!” You dropped your hair and looked at the pick now hanging in the middle of your tits.

“I loved the placement don’t you.” He teases you and you can hear his mischievous smile and the way he’s giggling when you shove him. “I’m serious, i can imagine already, you on top of me and the pick hanging there and… wait a minute. THATS WHY YOU LIKED IT SO MUCH!

You start to laugh and cover your face embarrassed. “Shut up Eddie!”

“No baby, don’t hide your pretty face. Let me see you.” You lean into his body again and look up at him. “You do look very attractive with it.” And as he speaks, you can feel his hand on your jaw, making you look up at him, and the other, caressing your thigh.

“What about you? I don’t want to just take your necklace like that.”

“Don’t worry sweetheart, i can make another one for me so we can match, if that’s your concern.” He says teasing you once again. “But now that’s your necklace. It looks better on you anyway, so”

You just close your eyes, feeling him touching your nose with his before he kisses you passionately. Even after lots of shared kisses between the two of you, he still manages to take your breath away.

“Come on, let’s go inside.” He opened his door and yours too, being the gentleman he is, and with an arm thrown around your shoulder, he leads you inside. “Maybe we can test that theory, to see if the pick will look good on you when you’re on top of me.” He makes you giggle and you playfully slap his chest as you walk up and open the door.

“Maybe…”

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 19

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14 || PART 15 || PART 16 || PART 17 || PART 18

Steve makes a noise of pain, and Eddie pulls back like he’d been burned. With how hot his face feels, he might have been. Eddie holds his fingers up to his own mouth. His lips hurt enough when he touches them that Eddie’s sure it’ll go down in history as the worst kiss in Steve Harrington’s life.

“Um,” Steve says, voice high and wobbly like he’s going to cry.

Eddie’d almost rather die than have Steve see him right now, but he needs to see the look on Steve’s face to ascertain how the hell he can fix this. So, he reaches up, fumbling blindly until the van’s interior light clicks on.

He blinks, momentarily blinded by the spots sparking in his eyes with the sudden light. When he finally blinks them away and catches sight of Steve, his breath catches.

Steve’s pressed hard enough into the van’s door that it looks like he’s trying to become one with it, and his eyes are wide and panicked, fingers clenching the fabric of his jeans over his raised knees. There’s a speck of blood on his mouth and all Eddie can do is hope that it’s his own.

“I am so sorry,” Eddie rushes out, shuffling forward in his seat, hand outstretched to wipe off the blood, but when Steve flinches away, smacking his head against the window, Eddie flings himself back, palms raised in supplication. “I shouldn’t have done that!”

It’s only as something shutters beneath Steve’s wide eyes that Eddie realizes how many wrong ways Steve could be taking what he’s saying. “Not like that!” Eddie continues, words tumbling over each other in his rush to get them out. “It’s just you were saying all that shit like I don’t want to be here? And I panicked, and just sort of…did that?”

Steve doesn’t say anything in response. He just sits, frozen, eyes unfocused. Eddie really wishes he’d say something, if only so Eddie can stem the stream of bullshit flowing from his mouth.

“Only, I’ve never kissed anyone before, and you’re supposed to ask first, right?” he rambles, still panicking. “Oh my god, I just like, attacked you? I’ll take you home if you want, oh my god, why did I—”

“You want to be here?” Steve blessedly interrupts. Eddie takes gasping breaths, eyes laser focused on the little furrow between Steve’s brows. “Wait, that was your first kiss?”

Eddie feels whatever blood had drained from his face rush back as Steve squints across at him. He’s not crowded into the door, but Eddie’s not sure the way he’s leaning toward Eddie with disarming focus is actually much better.

“I mean—well, you see—I’ve just never—” Steve’s still staring at him unerringly so Eddie takes a shuddering breath and finally spits it out. “I’ve never been on a date, kissed anyone, any of that stuff.”

“Oh,” Steve whispers, a look Eddie can’t read dawning across his face.

“Yeah, oh,” Eddie replies, chuckling weakly when Steve just keeps staring. Eddie looks away, unable to hold the intensity of his gaze. “Sorry I blew it like that. I just sort of panicked, you know?”

“Oh,” Steve says again, a different intonation this time, still just as indecipherable to Eddie.

“Yeah, oh,” he mutters again, picking at a loose thread on his sleeve, unable to look at Steve.

It’s silent again—Eddie wishes it was dark, too. He wants to go home, drag his comforter back into his room and hide beneath it until he forgets any of this ever happened. He might be under there for a long, long time.

But then there’s cool fingers against his chin, and when he jerks his gaze toward him, Steve’s golden brown eyes are very, very close to his own, his lips even closer with the way his breaths are puffing against Eddie’s open mouth.

“Can I?” Steve asks, making it clear what he means as he looks down at Eddie’s lips.

Eddie gasps, body aflame with the power of his blush. “You—you want to?” he stutters out. When Steve nods, still holding Eddie’s chin, he responds, “okay, yeah, yeah, okay—” his affirmations only being cut off by the soft press of Steve’s lips.

It’s soft and dry, pressed chastely against Eddie’s own. Eddie shudders, mimicking the minute movements of Steve’s lips against his own. It’s a revelation to feel Steve’s lips on him, even more so when he feels Steve’s mouth quirk up against his own, like he’s happy to be kissing the bumbling fool Eddie’s become.

Eddie laughs, just a little against Steve’s mouth. It turns into a groan halfway up his throat as Steve threads his fingers through Eddie’s hair, using his grip on the back of his head to pull Eddie closer to himself. As Eddie gasps, Steve brushes his tongue into Eddie’s open mouth, barely delving in before pulling it back and sucking Eddie’s bottom lip.

Steve leaves his lips wet as he pulls back. Eddie tries to chase his mouth, drunk off the feeling of it, but Steve’s fingers fist in the back of his hair, holding him in place. The feeling zings through Eddie from his scalp to his palms, that gentle pull hitting him like electrocution as he gasps back to life.

When he opens his eyes, Steve’s still close, smiling smugly at Eddie. It’s all King Steve without the bite. He wants more, hopes Steve keeps him around long enough that he can see it all.

“You said stargazing?” Steve asks, eyes twinkling brighter than any star in the sky.

Eddie laughs, something bright and bubbling filling his chest as he watches Steve laugh along with him, eyes crinkling almost shut, hand still clutched in Eddie’s hair.

He hopes, ardently, desperately, that a second date is on the table, no matter how disastrously this one has gone because right now, in this moment with Steve’s buoyant laughter echoing in his skull? Eddie’s obsessed with him.

“Yeah, big boy, let’s go.”

***

Steve leans against the cold metal of Eddie’s van and watches as Eddie bounces around in the light of the van’s headlights, helplessly endeared as Eddie fusses with the edges of his blanket until it finally lays wrinkle-free in an empty spot in the clearing. He rushes back to the van a few times, holding snacks and drinks behind his back like Steve won’t see them the moment he drops them to one side of the blanket.

He fusses with it all, too, making sure everything’s lined up just so. It’s so unlike Eddie that Steve might think he’s stalling if he wasn’t beaming the entire time. To finish it off, he grabs a smaller folded blanket and lays it perfectly parallel with all the snacks. Only then does he turn back to Steve.

“My lady,” he says, bowing low and gesturing down to the blanket at his feet. “Your chariot awaits.”

Steve laughs and follows his directions to the middle of the blanket, feeling absurdly guilty about his shoes on it. He drops, crossing his legs beneath him. Once he’s rushed over to the van to turn his headlights off, Eddie follows his lead, sitting close enough that their knees just barely overlap.

Steve blinks away the spots in his vision from the change in light before looking up at the sky. It’s bursting with stars, and the moon’s full enough to illuminate their clearing so that Steve can see the shadows of Eddie’s dimples as he smiles at him.

“So, I was thinking we could smoke a little?” Eddie says, pulling a joint out of the pocket of his vest with a raised brow. “But if you don’t want to, we can just relax.”

Steve grabs the joint from Eddie’s hand, letting his fingers brush against Eddie’s before plucking it free and putting it in his own mouth. Eddie stares, mouth parted, hand still held out despite now being empty.

“Well? Got a light?” Steve asks around the blunt, leaning a bit toward Eddie as he comes back to life and fumbles in his vest pocket like he’s on some sort of time crunch.

Eddie flicks his lighter and watches avidly as Steve sucks in until the cherry catches and burns. He inhales, trying for cocksure and suave, but it’s been a long time and instead he coughs a cloud of smoke right in Eddie’s face.

Steve rolls his eyes as Eddie throws his head back and laughs. “Yeah, yeah, yuck it up,” he says around each little, sputtering cough.

“Sorry,” Eddie replies, but he’s still laughing as he plucks the joint from Steve’s fingers and takes a much smoother drag, using his free hand to pat Steve on the back like he’s burping a baby. “Been a while, Stevie?”

Steve’s eyes are streaming, but he feels light enough that he could float away on the smoke as Eddie smiles across at him, joint still in his mouth.

“A bit,” Steve replies, cheeks heating as Eddie’s fingers brush against his lips as he puts the joint back into Steve’s own mouth, tip now wet with Eddie’s spit.

“Nice and easy, now,” Eddie says. Steve follows his instructions, taking a small, shallow breath in, fighting against the spasming of his lungs as he lets the smoke leave his mouth and float up into the night’s sky. He’s rewarded with Eddie’s quiet murmur of, “good boy.”

Then the asshole takes the joint back, raising his eyebrows tauntingly as Steve shudders.

“Shut up,” Steve mutters, no heat behind the words as he flops back on the blanket and looks up at the stars. “Now show me some constellations, Munson.”

Eddie laughs, dropping down so their sides are pressed together, heads close enough that Eddie’s hair tickles Steve’s neck. Eddie takes one more drag before offering it back to Steve. Steve’s enough of a lightweight now, that the few hits he took have him floating a few feet above his body, so he shakes his head. Eddie reaches over to stub it out in the grass without complaint.

“Okay, see those three stars?” Eddie asks, pointing up into the sky. Steve squints, nodding when he finally locates three stars that seem brighter than the ones around them, forming a wonky sort of triangle. “Well, that constellation’s called, How The Fuck Should I Know?”

A barking laugh bursts out of Steve as he turns to stare at Eddie, incredulous. “You planned a stargazing date and don’t know anything about stars?”

“Well, I thought it would be romantic!” Eddie cries, gesturing wildly enough that one of his hands smacks into Steve’s chest lightly.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Doesn’t even know anything about stars,” he repeats teasingly.

“Well!” Eddie sputters, wrapping his arm around Steve’s shoulders and shaking him around on the blanket as he laughs. “Wayne thought it was a good idea.”

Steve stops laughing, unease curdling in his gut as he asks, “you told your uncle about me?”

Eddie sits up, wriggling his arm from beneath Steve suddenly enough that he flops bonelessly onto the blanket as Eddie peers down at him, eyes wide and manic beneath the moonlight. He latches both hands onto Steve’s shoulders like he’s trying to keep Steve stationary.

“I didn’t mean to!” he blurts out before biting his lip. “It’s just, I tell him everything, and he knew I was upset, and asked what was wrong, and it just spilled out!” One of Eddie’s hands lets go of Steve’s shoulder so he can gesture wildly, like they’re playing charades and he’s depicting a clown pulling a ribbon from his sleeve. “And then he told me that he thought I was gay, can you believe that?”

And honestly? Steve can. But Eddie looks riled enough, and Steve just wants to go back to the calm intimacy of minutes before, so he grabs the hand still propping Eddie up with his own shoulder and yanks it out from under him.

Eddie goes sprawling, landing half on Steve’s chest where he wriggles around like a worm until Steve wraps his arms around him and holds Eddie tight to his own chest. Eddie shutters, then slumps, tucking his head beneath Steve’s chin with a groan.

“First Chrissy, then Jeff, and Robin, now your uncle?” Steve mutters, tightening his hold on Eddie when his words start him squirming again. “Who’s next, the pope?”

“Robin knows?” Eddie asks, breaths puffing against Steve’s sensitive neck. “That explains so much.”

“Hey, Rob’s great,” Steve defends, unsure what Eddie’s weird tone means. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life with her.”

Eddie snorts, but burrows his face further into Steve’s neck, planting a little kiss on the skin there. “You’re so weird.”

“Coming from you?”

“Oh, baby, you had me beat like three deranged decisions ago,” Eddie teases, but Steve barely hears him, too busy replaying baby, baby, baby, over and over again in his head like a cheap record.

“Shut up,” Steve mutters.

Eddie fights against Steve’s restricting arms until he’s propped up, smirking down at him, his curly hair curtained around them. “I’m serious! First, you write secret letters? And to me of all people?” Eddie crows. Steve wishes desperately that he could think of a way to shut him up before this gets even more embarrassing. “And the Chrissy of it all, Stevie, what the hell were you—mph!”

Eddie goes blessedly silent as Steve plants one on him, opening his mouth just enough to hear Eddie make that delightful groaning noise again. Steve wraps his arms around Eddie’s waist, pulling Eddie down until his full weight is atop Steve, anchoring his stoned brain back into his body.

Steve bites at Eddie’s lip, once, twice, before soothing it with his tongue and pulling back, high again off the pitiful groan Eddie lets out.

“I finally found a way to shut you up,” he says softly, but he’s smiling and running his hands up and down Eddie’s back as he pants.

Eddie groans, flopping off Steve, body still pressed up against his side. “You’re evil Harrington,” he mutters, reaching out to take Steve’s hand and squeeze.

Steve reaches for Eddie’s chin again, this time pointing it back up to the sky.

“You see those stars there?” he asks, pointing up and to the left of them. “It looks sort of like a weird rectangle with legs and a swirly neck?”

Eddie squints up, gaze unerringly facing the way Steve’s pointing. Steve watches close enough that he sees the moment recognition lights up his eyes. “That’s Leo.”

At that, Eddie whips his head around to stare at Steve suddenly enough that he breaks Steve’s hold on his chin. “Are you kidding?” Eddie demands, but he’s grinning now. “You gave me all that shit, and you ‘know the stars?’” He throws quotations around his words, making it clear that he’s mocking Steve.

For his part, Steve shrugs, still lying down and grinning right back as he replies, “I learned all the star signs to impress girls. And boys, now.”

As Steve reaches out to tuck a dangling lock behind Eddie’s ear, Eddie stares back at him, no longer grinning. “I’m a Leo.”

“I know.”

Eddie whines, “you’re going to kill me,” and drops back to the blanket, curling into Steve’s side.

“Nah,” Steve replies, uprooting Eddie just enough to reach over and grab the folded blanket to drape over the pair of them, cutting the chill in the air by halves. After all, they’ve got a high to wear off before Eddie can drive him home like the gentleman he promised to be. “What fun would that be?”

***

Steve’s asleep—Eddie can tell by the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath Eddie’s head and the way his breath whistles out of his nose. Eddie doesn’t wake him up. This moment feels too precious, this feeling bubbling up in his chest too new to disturb it, especially after the disaster that was the beginning of the night.

It’s just, Eddie’s never been on a date before, and he hadn’t accounted for the way the popcorn would make his hand too slippery with butter to even imagine reaching across the distance between them. And Steve had been very clear: he wanted to hold hands. And it’d all spiraled out of control from there.

He’s never buying popcorn again.

But, now he’s resting against Steve’s side, head propped up on Steve’s chest, hand clutched in his even though it leaves his arm at an awkward angle. And he’s contending with feelings he’s never experienced before.

It’s like there’s moths attacking his heart and lungs before fluttering down into his stomach, tickling his insides, making his whole being damn-near squirm with the foreign feeling.

He feels almost sick with it—is this what everyone means by lovesick? It’s awful, it’s spectacular. He wants to wake Steve up and tell him about the moths and their fluttering, see if he feels it, too.

But, Steve sighs, and even in his sleep, his arms reflexively pull Eddie tighter against himself, and Eddie lets himself bask in the warmth of his embrace until he falls asleep.

He wakes, his entire body cold and shivering convulsively.

It takes another shake to his shoulder to remember where he is and who he’s with. He opens his eyes to Steve’s face hovering over him, his hand shaking Eddie’s shoulder.

“Wha’s it?” Eddie murmurs, reaching up to rub clumsily at his eyes.

“We fell asleep,” Steve replies, voice gravely in a way that hits Eddie right in the gut. “Come on, man. It’s freezing out here.”

Eddie groans, but dutifully drops his hand from his face to grab Steve’s, letting the other boy pull him upright. It takes him a minute to reorient himself with the concept of standing upright.

By the time he’s upright, Steve’s stacked the uneaten snacks back into the bag Eddie’d brought them in, and is halfway through folding up Eddie’s blanket.

“Is it morning?” Eddie asks, squinting up at the sky accusingly as dawn’s light filters through the trees.

Steve laughs. “You’re cute when you first wake up.” Eddie stands there, brain now fully offline, cheeks heating even in the cold. “Now, come on! It’s cold as hell out here.”

The sound of his van’s passenger door slamming as Steve climbs inside sends him running; he climbs into his freezing van and turns the key in the ignition.

“The, uh, heat’s on the fritz,” Eddie mutters, embarrassed, as the van sputters to life. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Steve replies, and when Eddie glances at him, he’s smiling over at Eddie even as he wraps his arms around himself.

It’s a quiet drive, more out of sleepiness this time rather than the awkward journey of the night before. Steve reaches out to play whatever’s in the tape deck—Metallica this time, and he bops his head along to the beat while Eddie taps the steering wheel.

He pulls into the Harrington’s driveway, and puts the van in park and lets the engine idle.

“Well, I had fun,” Steve says, smiling as he unbuckles his seatbelt. “Thanks for the ride.”

Steve’s already out of the car and walking up to his front door by the time Eddie’s tired brain catches up. He’s out of the van in a shot, forcing his cold legs to move fast as he calls, “wait!”

Steve pauses, hand still on the doorknob, halfway through the door. But he turns around, and waits as Eddie rushes up to him, already breathless from his short dash.

“A gentleman always walks his date to the door,” Eddie says quietly, conscious of listening ears, even this early in the morning.

Steve beams, clearly ready to play along as he curtsies like one of the fine ladies in the movies and replies, “well, you’ve done your gentlemanly duty.”

Eddie shuffles his feet, anxious now about all the other things that usually follow the end of a date. “Uhh—well—can I—?”

Steve waits indulgently while Eddie sputters over all the things he wants, all the things he can’t figure out how to say. It’s okay, Eddie planned for this, so he reaches into his vest’s pocket, and pulls out a folded piece of paper, passing it to Steve like they’re in class.

Steve looks down at it, smile growing as he asks, “what’s this?”

“Open it,” Eddie replies, but he already is, smile only growing as he reads what’s on it.

   Second Date? Yes ☐ No ☐

   First Kiss? Yes ☐ No ☐

“I, uh, didn’t think we’d have already done the whole first kiss thing?” Eddie rambles, the longer Steve spends just staring down at it. “But, it’s customary at the end of a first date, right? I mean not that I have any experience. But, in the movies—”

“I probably have morning breath,” Steve graciously interrupts, holding a hand over his mouth like he’ll be able to contain the stench. But he’s smiling down at the note, Eddie can see the edges of his upturned lips between the gaps in his fingers.

And that’s decidedly not a no, so Eddie crowds Steve until he stumbles through his open front door. Eddie takes a precious moment to close the door to obscure them from view before he cups Steve’s cheeks in the palms of his hands.

“I can’t tell you how much I don’t give a shit about that, Harrington,” Eddie murmurs right before he presses his lips against Steve’s, gently this time because say what you want about Eddie, but he can learn from his mistakes.

It’s slow this time, languid. They’re both tired, and cold, and this date has gone on hours longer than it was ever supposed to. But it’s just as good as their second first kiss. Eddie’s mind goes blank—there’s nothing past the heat of Steve’s lips, and the way those foreign moths squirm within him as arms wrap around his waist. 

Eddie pulls away first this time, pecking Steve’s lips once, twice, thrice, when he groans a complaint. “Now, now, I’m trying to be a gentleman,” Eddie replies, hoping Steve doesn’t notice how breathless he sounds.

Steve pouts, but pulls back, Eddie’s note still clutched in his hand. Eddie stares at it, gut churning much more unpleasantly as he asks, “uh, and the other question?”

“Hold that thought,” Steve replies, and then he just—walks away.

Eddie stands at the threshold of the Harrington’s big, empty house as Steve disappears from view. Luckily for the health of Eddie’s heart, he reappears a few moments later, the cap of a pen in his mouth as he scribbles quickly on the page before handing it back to Eddie.

Eddie looks down at it, smile blooming as he sees the little X’s Steve had written in next to the Yes’s of both questions.

“But it’s my turn to plan the next one,” Steve mutters, and when Eddie tears his gaze away from the note, Steve’s cheeks are dusted with a light pink blush that Eddie has to resist the urge to lick.

“I can live with that,” he replies, damn-near buzzing with excitement.

“I’m going to knock your date out of the park, Munson, just you wait.” Steve’s got a cocky eyebrow raised like he’s challenging Eddie to a competition and knows he’s going to win.

He’s such a bitch; Eddie’s obsessed with him.

“Good luck, Harrington. We both know I knocked this one out of the park.” Steve laughs as Eddie mimes hitting a baseball with a bat with the best form he can manage, trying to appeal to Steve’s jock sensibilities.

“You brought it back around,” Steve concedes.

“But, hey,” Eddie starts, finally breaking eye contact with Steve so he can slip the ring off his finger and hold it out to Steve. “It’s no letterman jacket, but something to remind you of me until our next date?”

Steve’s eyes are wide as he looks down at the ring cradled in Eddie’s palm, and his fingers tremble slightly as he scoops it up. Still, he doesn’t hesitate in trying out fingers until he finds one that fits—the blue gem shines brighter affixed to Steve’s thumb than it ever did on Eddie’s hand.

Steve’s cheeks are darker now; Eddie wants to reach out and see if he can feel the heat through his skin.

Steve swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing as he looks down at the ring on his finger with what looks like wonder. “Thank you,” he murmurs quietly before finally looking up and meeting Eddie’s eyes. “Good luck getting my letterman back from Chrissy, though. She’s obsessed with it. I swear I even saw Jeff wearing it the other day.”

“I’ll fight her for it,” Eddie replies, mostly joking as he throws a couple half-hearted punches just to make Steve laugh again.

“You do that,” Steve says, still smiling as he leans forward to peck Eddie’s lips one more time before ushering him out the door. Eddie’s lips tingle the whole drive home.

When he walks through the trailer, Wayne’s on the couch, watching a game of sportsball on the TV, a mug of coffee clutched in his hand. He looks up when Eddie enters, smirking as he catches sight of whatever look is on Eddie’s face.

“Still straight, Ed?” Wayne asks, before taking a sip of his coffee like the meddlesome bastard he is.

“Shut up, old man,” Eddie replies, walking past his laughing uncle to fall into his bed for a few more hours of much-needed sleep.

PART 20

[ilikelookingatthings]

likelookingatthings Go full metal alchemist ford!

greycoffeethe amount of angst an AU like this can create... dang i need this as a fic so bad

ilikelookingatthings@greycoffee The fact when you commented this so I told my sister and she isn't even in the gravity falls fandom...yet immediately pingponged alternate ways a full mental alchemist gravity falls fic au could go.

Stan as Edward whose brother's body was lost like al as a parallel to ford accidentally getting sucked in the portal and how stan was burned with a reminder.

. The burning house losing identity parallel to not turn back til he gets his brother back. A version where ford's soul was lost but not his body and Stan gets punched in that white void like when Ed sees his brother.A version where like normal full mental fird is in a suit like al and lost his body.

A version where Stan has to pretend to be his alchemist brother but can't do alchemy...just conning his way into people believing it.

How you coukd mix different aspects together. Professor Markov with his research and paranoia similar to ford. How maybe they tried to mess with a taboo. Like maybe they were trying to bring someone back....or maybe ford got tricked by the hulunculi becayse ifvhisctendency to push boundaries in research bht realized he went too far or something..aspect of government conspiracies and how the philosophers stone also connects gold/wealth which stan was obsessed with.

Even brought up a thought if a Stanford stanely parallel with greed and the prince. And a unending options defending on what ratio you lean toward .

Greycoffe@ THESE ARE SUCH GOOD IDEAS HOLY SHIT?? like another idea I got from one of yours is Dip&Mab being Ed&Al and after trying to bring back their dead loved one, have to move in with Stan (this version's Pinako) who's taking care of Pacifica (can be someone else, but I thought she'd be a cute love interest for either twin).

greycoffee i really enjoyed reading your ideas but I cannot for the love of me write out a fully fleshed out fic bc I'm already writing other AUs 😭 (i shall keep this in my notes however :3)

Ford could possibly be someone like Hohenheim with Bill being the homunculus in the flask, etc etc

ilikelookingatthings@greycoffee Ooooh that's fun! Cuz Pacifica abd windy are blonde..also some potential if she represents king Bradley's kid. What with her family being rich and the theme of corruption of rich government people. There is also the option of what if Stan if Stan is the alchemist teacher.....

ooooh or if dipper and Mabel represent Edward while stan is al.Personally off arc I'd picture her as from the north fortress from the Armstrong family.

or that guy with a mustache from the mining town who gets overthrown by the siblings meddling who gets caught up in shenegans and petty talks of revenge but who slowly gets a arc if being a better person.

Huh...just realized Pacifica could also be greed, the prince or Mei since her sense of importance and need to make her family happy and her struggle to understand friends.

Want to throw out there fiddleford could be doctor Markov. And for fun and not for real...Barry the butcher as stan.

Though if Pacifica is winry would that make that ghost who hates her family scar? Though if she's a Armstrong would that make sloth the ghost?

Honestly I get the feeling. I'm so behind on getting through my fanfiction tabs the thought of writing myself even when I have ideas to chew on can feel like too much at times.

I'm gonna reblog this conversation. See if anyone else wants to chew on this bone.

Extra thought...stanley and fird as Riza and mustang considering the trying to become mayor plot line and who we knkw gets injured in the end.

Also a funny imagine is while adjusting ages xan wirk...just imagine all the characters the same age in gravity falls and things get ten times more hilarious (or sad depending) cuz the government has a bunch of kid employees running things. Just imagine old stan and ford as the elric Brothers while the kid superiors are dipper and Mabel.

Was inspired by this

Ford "Icarus didn't flap hard enough" Pines