#I WAS READY FOR FLUFF

[starliteonearth]

A lot of people seem to think Sieun's and Suho's relationship is just sweet and lovey dovey and nice, and completely miss the darker, violent side of their connection. For hurting Sieun, Suho breaks Yeongbin's hand like nothing and sits there completely unbothered while that boy cries in pain at his feet. For hurting Suho, Sieun smashes Wooyoung's ankle with a dumbbell and leaves him screaming on the floor, utterly uncaring. Both are capable of great violence and are deeply obsessed with each other to the point of unleashing it on others with no fucks given.

[m0rguekh7i]

harry james potter x reader

warnings: none pure fluff

summary: just harry high on liquid luck

The first sign that something was off with Harry was that he was grinning.

Not a tired smile after Quidditch. Not the smile he gave when he laughed at something. This was something else. A full, shameless Harry Potter grin — wide and completely unbothered. His green eyes were bright and he was walking through the school corridors like he’d just inherited the whole school.

You stared at him the whole time, in the middle of a hallway, and he didn’t even see you.

Just breezed past with that grin on his face.

“Hey!” you called, eyebrows drawn together. He bumped your shoulder, mumbled something and kept walking.

He stopped in a second. As if, the world shifted and he realized something was missing.

He turned.

“Hi!” he said, like you’d been gone for years. Like seeing you in this exact hallway, at this exact second, was the most joyful thing that had ever happened to him.

And he meant it. Every bit of it.

You blinked. “Hi..?” your tone was confused and more than a little suspicious.

Then he was suddenly right in front of you, stepping close, reaching up with both hands as if he’s forgotten what personal space was, and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

His hands lingered, his thumb brushed your jaw like like he was waiting all day to do this thing.

You just stood there, stunned, the warmth of his mouth still across your skin.

You weren’t unused to Harry kissing you but this wasn’t the usual soft, stolen in a corner before class affection.

“Okay…” You blinked again, feeling your lips turn into a smile. “Are you — are you high?”

His grin somehow widened. “Nope. Just… incredibly lucky.”

You squinted. “That’s not a normal answer.”

He reached into his jeans pocket, pulled out a small, clear bottle and held it up like a trophy.

“Felix Felicis,” he said cheerfully. “Took it after dinner.”

You stared at him. “You took liquid luck.”

He nodded.

“To do what, exactly? Charm everyone you bump into?”

“Nope,” he said, leaning forward, voice low.

“I’m charming like this everyday. The potion just helps.”

You groaned and buried your face in your hands. “You’re actually insufferable.”

He laughed, bright and unbothered, and hugged you with no warning, arms tight around your waist, his head dropping onto your shoulder. The sudden weight made you stumble.

“You love me, though.” he mumbled into your neck.

“Unfortunately” you muttered, heart hammering in your chest.

You pulled back enough to look him in the eye. “Why did you drink it? You were supposed to save that for, like… finals. Or sneaking into somewhere…something important.”

He tilted his head like the answer was obvious.

“To find you.”

Your heart skipped.

“I was heading to find Slughorn” he continued “but then I felt this… pull. Like I needed to turn left instead of right. So I did. And then I was here.”

You stared at him. “Harry.”

“Side quest” he said suddenly, tone bright and entirely unbothered by how confused you looked.

“Side quest?” you echoed, eyes narrowing. “Harry, what—?”

Before you could finish, he grabbed your hand — warm, confident, fingers interlacing like it was muscle memory — and started speed-walking.

[sakuravalenp]

A dream land - DP X DC Prompt

Okay, so I was thinking about that episode "Perchance to dream" where Bruce is trapped in a dream world and this, even thought really different, came to my mind.

Danny is king or prince of the infinite realms. He's been working on personalizing/decorating his castle in the infinite realms. When he feels someone walking just outside the castles walls. The thing is, that someone isn't a denizen, they aren't in a corporeal body, but he can feel that they are very much alive and feel distinctly human. He approaches the person to ask why and how they are in the infinite realms, but they fade away before he gets the opportunity.

Clockwork, who was with him at the moment, tells him that the visitor from the living, was just the soul projection of someone that was sleeping, and then refuses to elaborate further. Since it's something that was to do with sleeping, Danny decides to go and ask Nocturn, it seemed like a reasonable assumption that he was the one at fault for the soul projection.

Contrary to what he thought, Nocturn informed Danny that Sleeping soul projection was a natural phenomenon that he didn't control. The land of dreams, ("My domain" - Nocturn reminds him), was in the infinite realm after all, and those who have been close to death sometimes slipped they're whole soul instead of just their mind, and ended up all over the infinite realms.

It isn't too different from a lucid dream for them, the body gets all the benefit of the sleep, the mind feels rested if they had a good time in the realms. Except, if they hurt their soul too bad during their little trip, it would have real consequences. Loosing memories, abilities regression, migraine, pain that reflects the soul damage, all either temporary until the soul healed, or permanent and deteriorating, and in some occasions finishing in the persons death. In the latter, the soul is usually too damaged and cease it's existence, or have enough ectoplasm and emotion to form into ghosts with crack cores whose existence is instantly in danger.

Danny clearly didn't like the image that was painted to him, so he asked Nocturn if there was really nothing that he could do. It took a lot of talking and convincing, but eventually Nocturn admitted he could be able to direct the soul projecting to appear on a certain place, but he refused to babysit anyone. Which was enough for Danny, all he needed to do was make another expansion in his castle.

He decided to make a garden to receive their soul projecting guests. The garden was enormous, with all kinds of spaced within it. Playgrounds, picnic spaces, soft benches, tables with ghost and space teamed board games, fountains, and of course, the beautiful flowers that surrounded and decorated the place. Once he got ghosts with gardening, protection and caring obsessions on the place to look out for the souls, he was ready to receive them. It took him by surprise the amount of people that came, the garden was never crowded, but was never empty either, and souls of all ages and places were visiting at all times.

He kept expanding the garden as he heard of new things their guests wished for. He enjoyed spending time in the middle of the garden where souls passed by but rarely appeared, it was calm, but not completly quite with the background noice of the soul enjoying their dreams, and he could do the more mundane king/prince work. Until, he starts getting a regular visitor on his little space of the garden.

Choose the DC character you prefer, my idea is for people who hasn't died in the past but has been in the doors of death (so died and came back would be disqualified but you do as you prefer), but I'm going with Tim.

The soul of a boy around his age appears just in front of him, as usual when he greets new arriving soul, he welcomes him with a gentle smile and tells him he is free to explore the garden. A ghost taker is assign to him. The soul, as usual, seems confused and like he wished to asks questions, but seems content to ask them to his tour guide, and Danny continues with his own duties.

But then, the same soul continues to appear in the same place every two or three days, they exchange greetings and every time talk for a bit longer before the boy leaves to explore once more. It's rear to have multiple visits from one soul, even more so for said soul to appear in the same place every time. By the four time, Danny decides to take a break on his royal duties and accompany his new friend.

~ They get close, and have cute scenes, Tim asks a lot of questions and Danny answers and not-answers a lot of questions ~

One day, Tim shows up as usual, but he is in full Red Robin costume, and well, Danny wasn't expecting an identity reveal.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

On the Bats side:

There's an attack of some villain that's able to put Red Robin (or character of your choice) on a sleeping beauty type of sleep while carrying a serious injury, were he stays sleep until teammates or backup gets him out of it. The event affects his soul, making him disconnect partially from the land of dreams and making his soul sleep project almost every time he sleeps.

Tim starts sleeping more often. It's worrying at first, Bruce being paranoid does every test in the book, despite Tim saying he's just finding sleep easier now. But, he was just affected by sleeping magic and suddenly his sleeping easier? Seems like a side effect, and that makes it worrying.

Tim's health in general improve, just like he's concentration and productivity. Who would have thought that working rested actually was more productive than working on less than three hours of sleep and missing obvious details and clues due to how tired you are.

With everything not only being okay, but better than before, paranoia about Tim's new sleeping schedule soon dies, and instead is replaced with teasing about how he used to refuse to rest kicking and screaming, and now he may sleep more than any of them.

On Tim's side, he's loving being able to soul project so often. He knew from the start he was in a different dimension, and he just wanted to know the hows, whys, and everything else. So far, he seems to do it at least once every three days, and he's even gone two times in a row a couple of times.

The garden had a lot of things to do, but Tim doesn't care about that, he's more interested in all the information he's getting. The first 3 times he was given different ghost nanny's, who were more focus on entertaining him and didn't really answer direct question. But then king/prince Phantom decided to accompany him personally, and everything went smoother. He was going back to get to know more about this new world, and maybe to know more about the cute prince/king too. He might also have gotten some better looking pajamas.

Now, he has a mission that takes more than a couple days with some people in his team that hasn't yet sen his face. He didn't realize how difficult it would be to do all nighters after getting used to a sleep schedule. He would usually try to go as long as possible without sleeping, but he decides that he should take advantage of the safety of where they're staying and sleep a bit too. He ended up soul projecting in full Red Robin costume. He tried to play it cool, maybe Phantom wouldn't know it was him.

"Red Robin, even if you didn't appear on the same spot as always, I can feel your soul. I know who you are."

[wholemeallbread]

it hasn't been long since rin rejected you. actually, it's been precisely two hours, twenty five minutes and... thirteen, fourteen, fifteen seconds. yes, he's been counting.

a silent sigh leaves his lips as his arm falls limp against his bed. he's checked his watch too many times, and now it feels like time is running slow. usually he wouldn't mind but... with you being his last prominent memory, he doesn't enjoy the bitter taste in his mouth. thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three seconds... and...

he finally breaks his gaze away from the ceiling, sitting up with his head hung.

maybe it was a mistake.

no, isn't it weird to say he started liking you after he saw you cry? the tears brimming in your eyes, the obvious cracks in your voice, and the smile you tried to put on... all because of him. he should be guilty, if anything, yet there's an overriding sensation in his heart. one that he shouldn't be experiencing.

it's not a big deal. his feelings will fade soon enough.

soon.

[nonranghaes]

the last thing you expect to see this late in the evening is chris with a bouquet of flowers in his arms. he's dressed casually, sweats and baseball hat and all, but the bouquet was clearly carefully put together by whatever florist he found. knowing chris, he probably "knows someone" he could convince to put this together for you at the last second. you haven't been dating long (six months in a week and a half), but you know that chris seems to know everyone.

"... what are you doing here?"

"you told me no one's ever bought you flowers before," he says, rocking on his heels. "and... you said you like big gestures, so..." he holds them out toward you, his cheeks and the tips of his ears turning redder by the second. "... i really, really like you. a lot." but you know what he means: i won't say love until you say love, because that's what we talked about. it means the world to you, really.

but the sappy look on his face is enough to make you laugh, so entirely endeared at how bashful this silly, sweet dork is, and you accept the flowers. "why don't you just... come in?" you nod toward your living room. "i don't think you can stay the night this time, but i wouldn't mind some company while i game." your face is growing warmer as you take a tiny step back. "if you want to stay, i mean--"

he does. and he doesn't complain when he ends up sleeping on your couch that night, smiling like an idiot to himself. i love you, too, is what he wants to say when you insist he stays the night anyway, when you kiss him goodnight and tell him you'll make breakfast for both of you in the morning, when you tell him to sleep well.

you don't have to say it until you're ready... but chris knows where you stand. and until you are ready to say those three words to him, he'll keep saying it in gestures that scream it to anyone listening. just so you know where he stands, too.

[anime-potato-san]

I SEE ONE MORE FIC OR BLURB OR WHATEVER DEPECTING ARKHAM JASON AS MEAN, ABUSIVE, OR PRACTICALLY ASSULTING THE READER, I'M GOING TO FUCKING SNAP!

MY MAN IS NOT LIKE THAT.

He is traumatized and not going through a good time, but he is shown to actually care about his men, even when he's harsh on them. And do people forget how he treated Barbara? Think about it: after everything Jason went through, would he really treat the person he loves like shit and abuse them?

NO, HE WOULD NOT.

[seokminfilm]

it goes like | lee seokmin

♫ pairing, lee seokmin x reader ♫ warnings, fluff, non-idol au, very short, gamer seokmin, lots of kissing and giggling, reader sits in seokmin's lap, one quick mention of wonwoo, seokmin calls reader pet names (darling is used the most), reader is called pretty, mentions of stardew valley, one mention of rizz (I'm sorry) ♫ synopsis, seokmin gives you the attention you had missed while playing stardew valley.

♫ author's note, hi everyone 😞 sadly I've been really busy w school and work so my updates have been dry.....as much as i want to write on tumblr i just don't have the time to anymore 😭 ANYWAYS thank you @realmofclouds for this cute request!! excuse me while i go insane over seokmin for a few minutes okay byeeee

♫ now playing, bus in these streets (thundercat)

♫ word count, 793 | for @kstrucknet

"i've never seen you so interested in a game as you are now, seok. what are you playing?" you sneak up behind your boyfriend, arms slung around his neck in a flash as you kiss and nibble on his earlobe.

seokmin huffs at your ministrations, giggling as he turns around in his swivel chair, shorts riding up on his legs as he smiles up at you.

"hi to you too, darling." seokmin stands up, pulling you to him as he pecks your lips. smothered in his love before you can even take off your shoes, you giggle, sighing happily as seokmin gives you another quick kiss. "how was your day trip?"

"fun, but really tiring. i just wanna lay down with you now." you sigh, stripping yourself of your shoes as seokmin falls back into his chair. his brown hair is fluffy, probably blowdried from a shower, and his face is fresh from his skincare, shining with the pc monitor as he admires you quietly.

"are you tired? i can stop playing if you want." seokmin looked at you with concern in his brown eyes, ready to stop everything to cater to your desires. smiling at him, you shake your head, hands on his face as you kiss his forehead.

"no, i'm not tired, seokmin. if anything, i wanna see what game you're playing. you're going all wonwoo mode right now." you giggle, and seokmin blushes, laughing with you.

you were right about it, too─usually, seokmin would come sprinting downstairs when he heard the door open, ready to greet you as soon as you step indoors. today, though, you had to go to him as he was so focused in on his game. it was cute, seeing your boyfriend so eager to play a game.

"wonwoo mode? i'm gonna tell him you said that," seokmin teases, eyeing you down as you shake your head, kissing his forehead again.

"i'm not lying though! you didn't even come greet me when i got home. my lovesick puppy wasn't waiting for me with big, brown puppy dog eyes." you say with a whine, and seokmin turns red, turning away from you as he mumbles, "lovesick puppy? come on."

"i'm just teasing, i'm just teasing." you reassure him, patting his lap as he smiles at you, nodding. "sit down on my lap, darling. i'm gonna teach you how to play."

nearly hopping up in the air out of happiness, you situate yourself on seokmin's thighs, holding onto the sides of the chair as seokmin pushes himself to the desk.

"this, my love, is stardew valley." seokmin says like he's introducing you to a brand new world─with the bright colors, pixelated style, and cheery music coming from the speakers, it is like a brand new world to you.

"wait, i've heard of this before. what's it like?" you ask, and seokmin takes a second to answer, currently planting some type of seed as he chews at his lip cutely.

"it's like minecraft, but cuter. the pixel style is cute too." seokmin sounds like a little child with the way his eyes sparkle when he calls the game 'cute', and you can't help but laugh, watching him as he walks down to a river, fishing rod out as he stops at the end of a pixelated pier.

"you wanna try?" seokmin asks, offering the mouse to you smile. "can i, seokkie?"

"of course, angel. give it a go." seokmin smiles, letting go of the mouse as he sets his chin on your shoulder, kissing your bare skin as you giggle.

"okay, ummm...so─wait, what do i do?" you ask confused, watching the animation play without being able to retrieve a fish. when you glance behind you, seokmin is smiling at you, seemingly trying to hold back a stream of laughter as you flush.

"why are you laughing at me? i'm trying, i really am," you sigh, and seokmin shakes his head, kissing your ear as he lets his left hand rest on your hips.

"it's nothing bad, darling. you're just really cute." seokmin smiles, and you can't help but grin, letting seokmin have the mouse back.

"you know, i'll just let my little farmer boyfriend do the fishing." you smile, and seokmin chuckles, hand giving your waist a little squeeze as he focuses.

"of course, darling. just sit here and look pretty for me." seokmin's voice is low, unintentionally sultry as he's paying attention to the game at the moment.

feeling your whole body flush with shyness, you sigh, tempted to cover your face before you just huff and whisper to yourself.

"stop trying to rizz me up and plant your beetroot seeds, lover boy."

seokmin giggles at that, and before you know it, you're keeling over in laughter, too.

[itsabea]

March x Reader | Walking You Home

Description: After the events of the Shooting Star Festival, March walks you home while you try your best to stay awake and coherent. But turns out March's a bit too impatient, and you've become much too sleepy.

Warnings: i started this just after the shooting star festival update and finished it today(aka this might be choppy),

Having watched the stars with March was like a dream come true.. And even the fact that he said yes to your invitation was a miracle in and of itself!

Still, despite March having accused you of messing with him, the night ended up being a memory that you hope you'll never forget. The stars were gorgeous, his face was picturesque as the lights of the stars flew past, and when you had turned to look back at the meteor shower, you caught March staring back at you from the corner of his vision.

But of course, the night couldn't last forever, and turns out, neither could your consciousness. After about your fifth or sixth yawn, March rolled his eyes and told you that he'd be walking you back to your farm. And so here you were, sleepy eyed with your body reacting exceedingly slowly as you tried not to fall off the tree trunk and into the river on the path to the Summit.

Of course, March didn't help much, mostly offering his judgmental stare and a few off handed comments. "Are your legs asleep or something?" He asked, his tone not sounding nearly as mocking and offensive as it usually was.

"Mm.... Sorry, I- Didn't think I'd be this tired.." You said back, stepping onto the grass before letting out a breath of relieve and triumph for still being upright, and most importantly, not in the river.

Continuing on for another step, you stopped to turn back to see where March was, only to find him directly behind you. And in that moment your sleepy state really showed. It took you a good few seconds to react and step aside so that March could also get off the large tree trunk and join you on the other side of the river.

Now following behind March, who was already a third of the way down the stairs, you went down the first step. Placing your foot on the stone made a low echo sound out from the contact it made with your shoes. A very audible sigh left March as you frowned tiredly and looked down at him, watching as he started making his way up the steps again and stopped two steps down from you.

There was a solid moment of silence, and your eyes had the time to slowly blink twice before watching March rather adamantly extend his hand out towards you.

"Like I said.. I won't here the end of it if you fall over and hurt yourself.. So just hurry up and take it..!" March clarified, looking away from you as you smiled and silently accepted the offer by taking his hand. You knew full well that you wouldn't make it home without stumbling over something, which is also fairly likely to happen more than once.

Slowly but surely, March guided you down the stairs as you internally started thinking about how warm and inviting his hand is. While his callouses were rough, and his hand was slightly shaky, it felt so.. Gentle and careful while holding your own.

Neither of you spoke as you got to the end of the stairs, over the pillar-bridge of the lower part of the river, and towards the Museum. Every now and then your eyes would slowly close before you had to mentally pry them open, and each time March would slow down slightly and lightly squeeze your hand that was still linked with his.

After you both passed the massive rock that you'd frequently crack open to get a quick sapphire, March spoke up. "How tired are you?" He asked, not a single hint of mock or accusation in his tone.

It took a whole second for you to fully register his question, and another second to give your answer. "Super tired.... Gonna sleep in till ten on purpose in the morning.." You managed out just before a yawn escaped you as you tried, and failed to stifle it.

After a few more steps in silence, March suddenly stopped, hesitatingly letting go of your hand before crouching on the floor in front of you. March somehow managed to sense the confused frown you wore, as he clarified his actions soon after. "Hop on.. You're taking too long." He said, and although you weren't fully convinced, you awkwardly got onto his back anyway.

Neither of you spoke for a while afterwards, and it was admittedly even more of a challenge to stay awake while being hauled home by March. Carrying the weight of your body seemed like no trouble at all for March, and not only that, but you could also feel the loud thrum of his heart beat reaching you from his back. It started out slow and methodical, but the moment you relaxed further into him, it started racing, almost as if he was panicked.

You didn't say anything, or, at least you didn't intend to. But unfortunately for you, March sounded out in reply. "I can't turn my heart off..! Sigh.. We're almost there, don't fall asleep yet, got it?" He said, making you sigh out a groan at the fact you couldn't fall asleep anymore.

It really wasn't much longer until you both entered your farm. The scenery wasn't quite how you wanted it yet, but it was getting there. March hadn't so much as taken a glance, making a direct, yet casual beeline for your home. It wasn't a long walk, but it did turn out to be long enough for you to start dozing off.

By the time March was at your door and asking you if you had a key, you were fairly unresponsive. The only reply you gave was a few half hearted grumbles and a final huff before weakly trying to kick the door open. March sighed at your attempt of you trying to enter your house, but instead of biting, snapping, or being a pain, he somehow ended up being.. Kind. At least in his own way.

"No key?" He asked, prompting you to shake your head against his shoulder before he opened your door. It took March no time to locate your bed and carry you toward it, and the mattress and blankets looked so inviting to you that you reached out for them so as to flop on your bed.

In the end, you not only landed on your beloved bed, but also took March down with you. And before you could even think about or debate the consequences of your actions, you went straight to sleep.

March, for one, didn't take to being dragged down with you and onto your bed too kindly, but before he could shout out a frustrated, and admittedly flustered response, you had started snoring. It wasn't loud or obnoxious, but it definitely sounded like you were exhausted. For March, it wasn't up to any kind of debate that you should rest, but he would've been lying to himself if he didn't admit that seeing you asleep was a.. Slight comfort.

But nevertheless, March took his leave, walking back to town and up into the Blacksmiths before heading to bed himself. All while not being able to wipe a fond, satisfied grin off his face, let alone knowing it was there. And the worst part? March wasn't the slightest bit aware that Olric had caught sight of him smiling as he headed to his room.

[chiliyue-archived]

cause i love to love, to love, to love you

↬ in which you have him all lovesick and smiles

includes; dazai, chūya, atsushi, fyodor

notes; i am gonna pretend i didn’t disappear for 2-3 months. this has been in my drafts for so long :( i tried to clean it up as much as i could but it’s really old jfjdks

DAZAI

dazai appears happy. present tense.

his typical inquiries for double suicides came to lessen to conscious degree, substituting in drinking sake together when the sun cowers, nothing but a string of nonsensical chatter proceeding each sip.

he was sticky like that: unannounced visits, impromptu phone calls, sudden changes in his schedule to accommodate yours. in any case, he isn’t one to shy from stooping as low as whining if it rewards him with your familiar face.

( his windpipes splinter before he could mutter it out loud, but the solitude that’s wedged deep in his bones for so long felt lighter when you were near. he questions how long such benevolence would last before becoming sullied by his hand… ).

…and yet all things considered, it hasn’t deterred him from courting you nonetheless. at times he can’t help but think he’s taken a bite of his own medicine when he’s the one skipping around like a helpless maiden.

and yet again in spite of it all, his brazenness remains perpetually untouched as ever. he entertains different approaches if only to coax out a new reaction from you and he’s not bashful in the slightest. so much so, he remains unruffled even under the scrutiny of your coworkers.

. . .

“ this is highly unprofessional.”

“ don’t be so mean, bella. don’t you know how much i missed you?”

your eyes flit down to the man currently using your lap as a headrest, the rest of his body stretching over the expanse of the couch. he was shameless, that much was certain, but his ability to remain unperturbed whilst in his lovey dovey state was impressive. you cocked a brow, sighing.

“ osamu.” his lips visually twitched at the call of his name; it’s a word warm on your tongue but leaves the hairs on his nape at your mercy anyway. " you saw me fifteen minutes ago—”

“ twenty.” he corrected, cheeky (and quite frankly, you wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled that number out his ass). “ but it was the longest twenty minutes of my life.”

he was unrepentant as ever, experimentally positioning his head to rest on the plush on your thighs. by muscle memory, he began to absently draw shapes wherever he could reach, a crude rendition of stars decorating over the bend of your knee.

he smiles innocently when you squint at him, the gleam in his eyes unwavering. “ only a couple more minutes and i would have been yours,” you mutter out, your voice not as sturdy as you hoped. “ at home.”

dazai almost turns pouty at that. almost. “ but my love, i’ve missed you like crazy. twenty minutes is too long, how can i possibly manage?” the words come out through a breathy exhale and you watch as his lashes kiss his cheeks when he flutters them closed. “ all i could think about is you. and now i have you right here.” he hopes his words carry as much truth as the way his heart does, scurrying away the cold that's mocked him for so long. “ can’t we just stay like this a little longer? pretty please?”

resigned to your fate, you could only clamor your palms over your features— if only to salvage your waning dignity from your coworkers.

unfortunate though… that in doing so you miss the blissful smile curling on his lips as he peeks at you from below. and atsushi notes(after throughly grimacing, not expecting him to be so blunt), it reaches his eyes too.

CHŪYA

" chūya-"

" you can't flirt with me. i have a partner."

terse, stubborn and slurred. if the groggy voice wasn’t enough to confirm your suspicions, the shit-face look belonging to your boyfriend did. he was drunk. wasted if you were to speak bluntly.

in truth, it really doesn’t come off as much of a surprise; his ability to hold his liquor was nothing to brag of (despite what he may profusely argue) and you’re half-convinced he’s already forgotten his own name.

still, you don’t loosen your grip on his sleeve even under the figurative holes he’s burned with his stare. “ chūya. i am your partner.”

“you—! wha-!” his voice erupts into a sudden warble, eyes akin to saucers. " you… you are??"

he takes what’s left of his thinning rationality to study you proper; the style of your hair, your clothing, the smell of perfume/cologne, the familiar quirk of your lips—

oh, he thinks as you push back the loose bangs veiling his face. he doesn’t make any attempts to move, feet stalled and eyes blinking, evidently stunned.

you decide to press on. “ do i look familiar now…?” the lilit of your voice grazes against his ear, plucking out a faint memory tucked somewhere in the crevice of his fuzzy head.

oh. he thinks twice, the stern look bruising his face thawing.

without realizing it, he squares his shoulders in any attempt to remedy his current disheveled appearance, slumped posture pulled taut in— what he hopes— was a more put together frame. conversely, he wobbles on his feet when you continue to eat away at the distance, the ghost of your touch pushing pinpricks into his skin.

“ you’re- you’re really all mine…?” he cringes as soon as it leaves his mouth, coming off eager and hopeful. something like a laugh escapes you and he can’t tell if that’s what made his stomach turn or the alcohol. perhaps both.

“ that’s what i’ve been trying to tell you. you’re so stubborn when you’re drunk.” you punctuate the words with a kiss to his cheek, now warm with revelation. chūya, exhausting the last bits of his energy, shrinks beneath it, a gloved hand clutching his reddened face defensively.

“ why haven’t i made you my spouse yet?” he remarks it so suddenly, you nearly choke on air. he can’t even comprehend what you say thereafter or register the look beginning to contort your features, nothing but liquid courage keeping him afloat.

but- well, if there’s anything the haze trotting his head and his thinning cognition could agree on, it’s that your ring finger appears a little too barren for his liking.

( but not for much longer, he hopes )

ATSUSHI

the sudden change in atsushi’s behavior was a notable observation within the ADA, many of whom watched as the weretiger became stupefied by a face belonging to you. it wasn’t long before concluding it was all the result of a crush; the culprit of which being atsushi himself who played his hand poorly at discretion.

the lovesick chatter would leave his mouth without much rationality, waxing of "[name] this" or "[name] that," and effectively becoming on the receiving end of his praises. it was almost a routine of sorts, occupied by stutters, belated responses and his fidgety footfalls. by the end of it, he fruitlessly attempts to steady his rabbiting heart— if only to stop his blush from staining beyond his cheeks.

even now as he silhouettes by the agency door, the rattle of rain is deafened by the rush of blood to his ears. he anxiously worries the handle of the umbrella in his palms, bouncing from one sole of his feet to the other. should he just ask you? maybe he should wait… now that he thinks about it would be more appropriate to just leav—

“ damn it.” he perks at your sound of displeasure, his heart spiking. “ so much for leaving in a hurry…” you stiffen, realizing you have nothing but a coat protect you from the weather. the flimsy jacket you hurriedly plucked from your wardrobe only added flavor to your disappointment.

atsushi doesn’t miss the opportunity; his feet carries him to you before the unpleasant voice lurking deep in his subconscious bullies him otherwise. “ we can share,” he gestures to his own, silently praying his voice was leveled. it wobbles anyway and by now his knuckles are sheen white as a product of his nerves.

with the organ jumping around in his chest, he almost doesn’t register your ‘thank you,’ only that his fingers were quickly undoing the straps of the umbrella before you could change your mind ( he impulsively bought it earlier that day— his previous pair worned out and far too tiny for two people. but when you thank him with a kind smile, hands slightly brushing with each step, he argues it was the best 800 yen he’s ever spent ).

… that said, a more appropriate question is how you managed to remain naive to all his pining for so long— he’s become despairingly obvious against his own good and yet he can’t find it in himself to change himself, a perpetual lovesick look copy and pasted whenever you entered his proximity.

the same can't be said to everyone else however and he wasn’t particularly pleased when he caught wind of the bets exchanged among his treacherous colleagues. he fears it's only a matter of time before one of them blabs their tongue to you. at this rate, perhaps one of them should.

. . .

" y'know atsushi," ranpo once said, offering his companion a gleaming simper. " you reallllyyy talk about [name] a lot."

"oh.”

his heart flutters, eyes slowly blinking.

" yeah,” he smiles. “ i guess i do.”

FYODOR

" you've been awfully quiet, my dear." fyodor’s voice was just loud enough over the sound of clashing cutlery, fixing you a gaze of genuine interest. " is the meal not to your liking?"

you feel your lips twist into a frown. for being attentive, he (for once) falsely saunters pass the source of your displeasure, failing to recognize the extent of your internal woes. " no- no-" you fidget with your fingers, ignoring the way your propped elbows skidded against the table. the behaviour doesn't go unnoticed by the former, who takes it upon himself to hook his index fingers with yours. “ there’s something i’ve been meaning to ask of you. a… request of sorts.”

“ what is it? i’ll have it shipped to you by the end of the week,” he offers generously though it quickly fades into a confused hum when you shake your head at the proposition.

" it isn’t something you can buy…” you drop your gaze from him to the scantly poked portions of cuisine on your plate. fearing he may misinterpret your words and assume it to be unattainable - perhaps gifting you something ludicrous as a piece of land - you amended quickly. " it’s not what you assume to be either.”

at that, he bums questioningly. “ then what displeases you, my darling?” he provides a faint squeeze to your hand, igniting something warm and paradoxical to his thin layer of frigid skin. “ what can i offer to rid you that frown?”

" just your company.”

" my company?"

" yes." perplexed, he cocks his head; an invitation. willing an inhale to your lungs, you took a moment to gather possession of your words. “ these days you've been rather occupied. i was hoping for perhaps… if we may spend some time together?"

fyodor appears vaguely surprised by that, something unfamiliar fortifying around him. requesting his time felt like a hefty expenditure just in itself and it wasn’t too far fetched to assume he’ll disregard it in favor of some plot embellishing deep within his brain. but a swift refusal never comes.

“ i see,” he finally says after a brief pause. his voice was so soft you wondered if it was meant for you to hear.

it's grows quiet before he speaks again, the fingers curled around your hand withdrawing but not before providing the tips a delicate squeeze. " i can arrange some time tomorrow for you,” he proffers. “ will that satisfy your request, myshka?"

hardly anything can catch fyodor off guard, but something had to be said in the way you brightened at the suggestion, a deep curve coasting over your lips. how pleasant you are.

" yes," you hastily replied, dipping your head slightly. " more than perfect. thank you."

the way your lineaments crossed into a smile was always enduring to observe — exasperated, but one he wouldn’t mind seeing tomorrow knowing he was the cause for such elation.

( idly, he wonders what he can do to see it again ).

A/N !

i’ve been meaning to post this for months but it’s so old & i never quite (and still kinda don’t) liked it :(( fyodor’s is bit ooc jfjdkskla

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[spacebubblehomebase]

"Say My Name."

Tumblr "Poll Results" for my #HHStargazersAU are out and so I'm releasing ALL the currently available titles of my future posts for this story!!! Though to not completely spoil the plot for everyone, I redacted some parts on the list. Just know that, while I DO have plans, they could always change and not everything is complete. But if you're still willing to be patient with me, here's a taste of my writing and art! Nothing serious. Just to see if it's to your liking. I won't always stick to such style, but there WILL be consistent world building as it's my favorite part of starting any AU! And if you like Chaggie or queerplatonic Radioapple centric stories then you're in luck because that's EVERYTHING I'm here for! It'll take a lot of effort, but GOD will it also be a LOT of fun! XD Still a show is nothing without an audience and according to my list, it's time for an INTEREST CHECK, so what say you? 👀✨️ -Bubbly💙

(For more context, check out "Part One" of my story! "A New Day Will Dawn...")

[eat-your-milk]

My dear, may I have this dance?

I am so gone for this ship~

(This is kinda for a fic i havent finished yet lmao)

[lulublack90]

Prompt 13 - Woo

@wolfstarmicrofic February 13, word count 265

“What’s all this?” Remus asked as he removed his heavy bag from his shoulder and hung it on the hook by the door along with his coat and scarf. He kicked his shoes off and placed them neatly on the shoe rack. 

“I am attempting to woo you with a romantic evening,” Sirius called through from the kitchen. Remus couldn’t help but feel touched as he followed the trail of rose petals through to the kitchen. 

“Sirius, we’re like a thousand years old. The kids will be back any second, and all I want is a hot bath.” Remus sighed, wrapping his arms around Sirius’s waist and kissing him sweetly on the lips. 

“Age is an illusion,” Sirius scoffed. Besides, the kids are at Lily and James’s, keeping their cousin Harry on his toes. They will be staying there the entire night, and your bubble bath is already run. Here.” Sirius turned in Remus’s arms and held out a plate of steaming pasta and a tall glass of wine. “Take this and enjoy your bath. I’ll be waiting in the bedroom for you when you’re done.” Sirius reached up on his tiptoes to kiss Remus on the cheek.

Remus watched him go and was surprised when Sirius let the dressing gown he’d been wearing slip from his shoulders to pool in the doorway, and he was completely naked beneath. Remus immediately put down his dinner and ran after Sirius. Dinner could wait. He couldn’t remember the last time they had more than five minutes to themselves, and he wasn’t about to waste a single second.

[hitlikehammers]

🧋That One Time It Went Soulmate v. Soulmate, Double-or-Nothing Between 🍦Robin and Eddie🎸, Because No One Could Deserve Robin’s Plantonic Soulmate EVER, but Eddie Can (and WILL) Count The Ways That He’ll Fucking ✨TRY✨

☕️OR: 5/5 times Steve/Eddie talk to anyone but each other about their feelings (for each other), +1 (other time they turn around and talk to one another)

Robin’s staring openly at him after he places their order with an extra shake to go—to take home with him for when Steve gets off work.

“You sure that’s what he wants?”

Eddie turns to her slowly.

“He’s my favorite person in the world,” Eddie says simply; “I know what his favorite flavor is.”

In fairness: it does change. He has a baseline that’s good always but, this time of year, the chill in the air? After a shift, especially one without Robin? Here, from this diner, with its stupidly weird-ass menu?

Caramel Waffle. No question.

“Hmm,” Robin hums around her straw as they go to take a seat—he’ll grab Steve’s when they’re done so it’s not melted to fuck before he can get it in a freezer.

“So,” she pops her lips together as he slides in across from her—he was waiting for this tone. She’d been cagey all afternoon. They hang out enough on their own for him to have clocked it when he picked her up: she had a mission. An agenda.

Eddie was pretty sure from the jump that both of those things were just…him.

He just wasn’t sure yet about the why.

“I want you to know that it is not out of a lesser opinion of you, or our friendship, that I am asking you this,” she starts, almost businesslike but he also sees how earnestly she means it; “and honestly I am cautiously optimistic on all fronts, but,” she bites her lip before straightening up a bit and tilting her chin, full-on resolute.

“He’s too important,” she says it, uncompromising. “And cautious optimism is not sufficient.” She nods to herself, takes what looks like a fortifying drink of her milkshake and then forges into…something not wholly unlike battle:

“What are your intentions toward my Platonic Soulmate?”

Eddie’d figured it was Steve; the mission. The agenda.

Even when they hang out on their own, Steve’s too big a part of both of them for him to ever be absent. Not for real.

But, this particular mission? Like…

“We exchanged rings, Birdie,” Eddie says, kinda at a loss; “you were there.”

She was the witness-they-didn’t-technically-need and the best-woman-that-counted-for-everything when they very-not-legally threw a barbecue to pledge for always out loud with the people they loved, when as many of those people as possible could gather and see it and know it—make it feel a fraction as big as it is in Eddie’s chest, for some slice of the world to know it explicitly, out loud.

And see it.

Robin purses her lips and stares him down, unimpressed.

“You know what I mean.”

And…yeah. If he thinks on it, he…probably does.

He doesn’t agree that it’s necessary by any means but: he can agree that Steve is too important for anything to be left to assumptions; to just ‘cautious’ anything.

Steve deserves only whole-hearts. All-in. Absolute certainty for always, when it comes to loving. To keeping and cherishing.

To having and holding.

So what she means is more than the rings. Goes beyond the so-called honeymoon period everyone’s got a comment about, which Eddie refuses to call as such, or acknowledge as anything like that at all, because like…okay, look.

His heart feels easy in his chest, now, in a way it never had before Steve. It felt that way on the worst days of PT, through the worst of the pain. It felt that way sometimes even that first time trudging through hell, without even knowing the man. Eddie hadn’t even realized his heart was all sludged up and calcified until he looked at Steve and it shivered so hard that all of that gunk sloughed off and he was made brand new.

That’s not a honeymoon period. That’s the start of the rest of his whole fucking life, where a certain vibrant level of joy is the baseline. Is their rule.

But, for someone outside Eddie’s chest: he understands. Robin means past that thing she thinks she’s seeing. She means…past Hawkins. Past the Upside Down and all the heartache. Past…forever.

What are his…

“I don’t think I believed people had souls, in like, the sense that people say it?” Eddie starts, because Robin of all people deserves the fullest truth he can offer.

Also—and fuck if he ever admits it out loud—but it’s also because if she’s gonna question his heart, in this, no matter how entitled she is to make sure?

She can damn well be subjected to the full extent of his capacity to wax poetic upon just how overwhelmingly, impossibly, marrow-deep in love he is.

“Definitely not the churchy sense,” he clarifies with a wave of the hand; “I thought they were abstract, just a word for an idea, y’know?”

She knows—she’s told him that she felt something of the same.

Before Steve.

“But he made me believe in them,” Eddie says, and fuck you, maybe his voice is already a little shaky, but he wants her to know how honest he is, how committed he is, how deep his runs—just like how she learned what it was to be Steve’s soulmate, too.

“Because it’s the very real thing that makes me feel alive like I never knew I could feel,” and his left hand reaches up a little awkward to his chest to feel what it is to be alive that big with his own palm, and the sensation of it against the ring on his previously so-long-empty finger there, now the safe-keeper of Steve’s Grandad’s ring, the one he paid some fancy jeweller with his own paycheck—we will use my family’s money, together, he’d told Eddie later, days into what actually was their literal honeymoon; this is from me, like, from my heart to yours and if Eddie’d cried a little about it, naked between rounds in their hotel bed, and if he’d kissed Steve senseless about it a lot at the same time? Damn right he should have—but pressing his hand to his chest with the now-familiar weight and warmth of that ring?

Fuck, but does he feel alive. And as far as his soul goes?

“He is where mine lives.”

It’s Steve. It’s all Steve.

“Or how mine lives. How it came to be,” Eddie still hasn’t puzzled it out entirely, the specifics; isn’t sure if he ever will. “Or both.”

Not that it matters, really. It might be the only puzzle in his whole fucking life that his brain’s willing to let lie not-wholly solved, because again: whatever the details could possibly be, they’d just lead back to a piece or part of a single entity.

The singular love of his life.

“I will kill you if you hurt him,” Robin jolts him back into the now, where he thinks maybe more silence has gathered than he thought, between the last words he did say and now.

She looks at him…not mean, not like daggers: more just really honest. Wide-eyed and more serious than he’s ever watched her be, even when they were almost certainly walking toward their own deaths in battle.

“Please do,” Eddie answers her, automatic. That is, like, not a hard thing to figure out a response to.

“Like, they’ll never find the body,” Robin leans forward over the table, almost knocks her milkshake over and frowns as she slides it aside further out of her way and takes her position again: “I’m serious.”

“Me too,” Eddie says simply before taking a long suck of his milkshake. “If I hurt him, the way you’re talking?” He spreads his arms and gestures wide to himself, all his most vulnerable parts on display because, like:

“Do me the favor. Please.”

He hopes it’d still be easy, splayed with all his squishy vital parts to hit, just bone in the way; hopes all the scar tissue wouldn’t make the job too difficult.

“Why?” Robin asks, a little…not sharp exactly.

Pointed.

But Eddie doesn’t understand why the question of whyeven needs to be asked, especially from her. It’s fucking obvious.

“If I hurt him?” Eddie shrugs, takes a sip again of his shake to keep his throat from getting too thick with any emotions at…entertaining an impossible thing.

“If I did that, I wouldn’t deserve him anymore, even if I didn’t automatically drive him away by default, for the hurting. I’d lose him either way,” and the shake doesn’t even taste right for how wrong those words feel, the bile underneath them, but it’s still mostly making the horrible words…easier.

Given the topic.

Because Eddie doesn’t care really for himself like that—though Steve, outside this unnerving and frankly fucking stomach-churning hypothetical and instead in the blissful beautiful now: Steve would get all frowny at him and scold him like one of his no-longer-little-nuggets for making idiotic choices or saying dumbass things—but Steve isn’t here.

And Eddie means this shit.

“I don’t really know if I’d even want to,” he swallows hard, thankful for the cold of the shake to keep his wits somewhat together; keep him on task to the fucking point: “to be a person, without a soul,” he leans back in the seat and crosses his arms over the squishy bits of him now, because in the now he hasn’t done anything to jeopardize the best thing that’s every fucking happened to him; that ever will.

“Not now that I know what it’s like to live with one, like this.”

And Eddie feels his lips curving at…well. Basically it’s kind of unavoidable, trying to keep a smile off his face when he thinks on Steve:

“Like this. With him.”

Robin matches him, leaning back and crossing her arms, eyeing him oddly.

“It’s not healthy to base your life around whether another person’s in it.”

“Says the platonic soulmate,” Eddie literally snorts, glad he’s not drinking for it—ice cream up the nose fucking sucks; “sounds like those codependency talks your parents were sneaking in took root somewhere, if you’re spouting them back at me.”

Eddie may not have been present for the months post-Starcourt where the Buckleys had struggled with whether Steve was a suitor or a playboy, for how often he and their daughter dogged each other’s steps, but he’s heard the stories. He knows it took them a while to…if not entirely understand it, at least to accept it.

Steve’s been known to watch the game with her dad when Wayne’s not home. Steve plies her mom with baked goods that she used to signal her acceptance of him, her welcome even, after breaking down to ask for recipes.

He gave them to her, or most of them, but won her fully over by promising he’d never be so far away not to make them for her himself.

“I never said I believed it,” Robin grouses, a little defensive; “let alone agreed with it. It was just a statement.”

Eddie expected as much. But he’s not above wanting to poke holes in her flimsy-ass attempt to set him off-balance. To…test him, however she’s trying to.

“But that’s not what I meant.”

He knew that, too. But he’s not absolutely sure what she meant instead.

Despite his myriad suspicions. He does have a formidable knack for imagining potential scenarios.

“I would have answered the same way, so,” Robin huffs; “I didn’t need that ‘why’.”

Eddie bites back a little smirk at her streak of indignation—not the time.

He’s actually getting better at that. Appropriate timing. It helps, appreciating what it means to have so many people he loves.

And then, one person who defines all that love is, all on his own. Every breath he breathes.

“I meant,” Robin finally leans in again, pins him with her stare, with meaning; “why do you love him?”

He doesn’t…expect that. Not from Robin.

But her tone doesn’t question it. Doesn’t question her dearest friend, her closest confidant, her Captial-P soulmate.

She’s…not testing him. But she is weighing him.

And somehow that’s very different.

“Why?” he still can’t help but huff a laugh. “How does anyone not?”

She squares her shoulders, but as formidable as she makes herself, as formidable as she is, her eyes are all heartbreak. But the protective kind.

“A lot of people are stupid,” she spits; “have been so goddamn stupid.”

Eddie knows she doesn’t mean him. It’s not directed his way. He agrees with her, and appreciates that if the time ever comes, he has the best second in command at his side to stand guard for the heart he loves more than his own.

He gets what she means, why she’s asking—why any of this is happening, today.

She’s seen more than him, but not even half, betweenthem, of the people so stupid, so reckless as to trample his beautiful husband’s heart.

Their soulmate’s heart.

And now that he gets it, he has so many ways to ease whatever fears she has, concerns that aren’t about him, but linger because she cares that much.

He can easily give her what she’s looking for.

“I love his smile,” Eddie says with his own, because it’s not about the way it looks, so much as the lights that glow through in him for it. “I love when he hugs me,” he’s so good at it, it makes a man feel safe as much as cherished, protected with strength and cradled with care. He feels Steve’s heartbeat against his sometimes like that, held close enough, pressed tight enough.

“And then when he < I>holds me,” when it’s all of that, but more. Longer. Sustained and Eddie can drown in it. In him.

“He kisses like it’s an Olympic sport where he’s the reigning gold medalist for always,” because sure, Eddie hadn’t had a vast amount of experience but he’d been kissed, even if only dirty and sloppy and never any further, but he’d thought they been at least decent.

Little did he fucking know.

“But then, at the same time he treats it like it’s his favorite pastime.”

Because Steve doesn’t just deal in the breathtaking, world-rewriting approach; he also dives in thorough, devoted down to his cells.

Breathtaking, world-rewriting all in its own unfathomable way.

“His laugh,” and Eddie’s smile grows as his chest feels like it expands, like it always finds a way to do just when Eddie thinks it can’t swell any more, like, for the laws of physics.

He did eventually pass physics, but. They never covered anything to do with love.

And even if they had, it couldn’t have been the kind of love Eddie feels, now.

“The way his brow furrows when he’s confused, or frustrated, like he,” and Eddie sees it, the little crinkles, the soft sparkling behind his eyes as he tries to sort something out behind them, like the fires of his mind at work, and it’s a beautiful thing.

“But mostly so I get to smooth it out,” Eddie admits because: it’s a beautiful thing. And it’s likewise a temptation.

All of Steve is kind of both at the same time, always.

“I love that he lets me take care of him,” and not just for the way it makes him feel proud of being trusted that much, where so few have ever passed the bar for entry into the magic of who Steve is, in his wholeness.

“Not least because taking care if him is one if the best things in the whole world,” because Steve doesn’t hide anything anymore, and he’s so open, so honest with every vulnerable piece, and Eddie feels like he could conquer the world with the might of that confidence, that faith; “like when your heart and your mind and your body all align right and agree, this is what you were made for,” and he believes that. He was built to meet Steve Harrington, and to be bound to every part of him. To be his partner in all things. To love and to honor and to cherish. For all of time.

“I love him for seeing me,” because it works both ways, and the feeling of having Steve is only rivalled in perfect measure by what it feels like to be had and held by Steve in kind: “and letting me see him.”

Always together. It still steals Eddie’s breath almost painful, but too sweet to ever try and tamp it down.

“I love falling asleep on his chest,” Eddie’s eyes close of their own accord, can feel it like that’s where he is, here and now, the bed of curls between those delectable nipples, the softness of his skin. “He runs so warm, like just, like when his heart beats, it’s pumping safety and comfort as a rule and when you’re pressed against him, it just emanates into you,” and that’s it, that’s exactly it.

“I love his heartbeat,” not just because he’d sought it out with desperate need after their last fight with the monsters, when it’d been Steve they almost lost. “Like the sound, when I’m against him,” because now, it’s a lullaby, an embrace, a declaration, every assurance Eddie doesn’t strictly need anymore but never passes up an opportunity to listen to and bask in, every opportunity he gets.

“I love how it feels when,” he starts, pauses when Robin’s face scrunches a little, like she’s bracing for a blow and it clicks, what she’s expecting.

He…wasn’t not going to at least skirt the edges of that part of their relationship. What often comes before he sleeps on Steve’s chest. But.

“Don’t worry, Birdie,” he assures her, dramatically folding his hands over hers with cloying sincerity; “I won’t defile your virgin ears.”

“If I have to listen to the retelling of your sexploits from him,” Robin smacks his hands away with a grimace; “I think once is enough.”

Eddie cackles as Robin groans.

“More than.”

He waves her off as he catches her breath; he won’t make her relive it herself. He’d love to, for his own sake and enjoyment but, he does love Robin. He doesn’t want to orchestrate her torture.

At least not today.

“I love how he eats his breakfast,” how he starts with a rich boy’s manners and ends like a starving man, with bits of egg on his cheek.

“I love how he brushes his teeth,” smearing toothpaste around first then going back to brush in tiny circles all around.

“I love how weirdly and, like, inhumanly quick he does his hair?” It’s record setting, seriously, like how can you get that height and that coif so perfect so fast. “But then how what always makes him almost late is picking the right shoes.”

Robin laughs, then reins herself back; it’s true though. How the clearly color-coded collections of the same fucking tennis shoes befuddle him for choice is hilarious, but so fucking endearing as hell.

“I love how I can tell him that I love him,” because for one, and the least of it all: Eddie never thought he’d find himself in a future where that was even the slightest possibility. But when it’s Steve? When it’s…when it’s this, with Steve?

When Steve lets Eddie love him? And flushes and smiles and melts for it, every goddamn time? Because of Eddie, and the size of Eddie’s love, or however much of it can be conveyed in the dearly limited medium of puny words?

“It’s him, but it’s,” Eddie shakes his head, beaming stupidly he knows, feels it in his cheeks, tugging his scars—he knows, but see, he couldn’t possibly give one single shit about it because his heart is so full, because he gets to love Steve Harrington, and—

“Loving him has been the greatest thing I’ve ever known. It’s not a privilege. It’s not a joy. It’s not a blessing,” Eddie laughs, just once: the limits of language are…offensive, almost. Because no.

It’s none of those things.

“It’s like I said, loving him?”

He waits for Robin to meet his eyes so she sees what the words can’t hold, never could, and while he’s not banking on his gaze carrying the whole of it, he’s more confident it can weave together at least some of the gaps.

“It’s what lives in me now and tells me I’m alive,” and that’s honest, that’s honest to all and every god, and all that surpasses them in the whole of being. “Maybe reminds me there are things to be alive for,” Eddie licks his lips, lets himself feel the way his heartbeat’s ramped up simply because he…he loves.

Because he loves.

“It is meaning, and it is light, and it is purpose and it’s what makes you open your eyes and feel that soft settled gratefulness that you get to do any of it, because he’s next to you,” Eddie’s words come without needing to think, or plan, for all he once scripted speeches on tabletops, or in notebooks to guide a narrative: this is his life. And more importantly: his love. His heart and his soul.

He wouldn’t want a script for any of it.

But more than wanting: he doesn’t have a single fucking need for it.

It is in his cells. He is made of all this, now. Of course it comes out of its own accord.

As blinding and as certain as it damn well should.

“He’s the reason for all of it,” Eddie finally says, voice a little shaky but it’s just because his breath’s a little shaky first, with the vastness of it all. “What would be the point, without it? Without him?”

He doesn’t need an answer, and Robin doesn’t try to give one. But he will ask, just as much without any need of a response:

“If that isn’t the same thing as a soul, then what the fuck is?”

It rings kinda quiet for a few seconds. Then minutes. Robin glances at her now melted remnants of milkshake.

Eddie looks to his own almost-full glass of wholly-unfrozen chocolate malt, and the condensation pooled underneath.

When he looks up, Robin’s eyes are on him. Shining and much less confrontational than they’d been.

“What?” Eddie asks, mostly confused but still a little suspicious. He’s been as flayed-wide as he can be, and is proud to be, and he trusts Robin implicitly but…he was being weighed and measured in order to be judged somehow.

So, he thinks it’s only smart to be at least a little bit cautious.

“Just glad,” she says, and smiles honest, no agenda left now. “You’re one of my favorite people,” and Eddie knew that in theory, at least by implication—still feels very nice to hear it.

“But you’re not my Platonic Soulmate.”

Eddie knew that, too. More than in theory. He respects the fuck out of it.

He appreciates that people beyond Eddie love Steve as fierce as this. Just as he deserves.

“It would have sucked to have had to take you out if you didn’t deserve him.”

Eddie snorts, because he knows she fucking means it. He’s almost honored that she thinks the idea of having to gut him in Steve’s defense would have been paired with any level of remorse.

“Mind you,” Robin goes a little serious again, but not…not like before.

“I don’t know if anyone deserves him,” and she says that more like I don’t think anyone could. Eddie doesn’t disagree.

But he thinks that’s the end of it, and decides he’s not going to let good ice cream go to waste just because it’s more an…extra cold Yoo-hoo slushie.

And how could he even consider letting that go to waste? Who would he even be if he did that, he wouldn’t even recognize himself—

“But you.”

Eddie looks up to meet her gaze with his lips still on the straw, mouth full of creamy chocolate. It’s not his most dignified look.

And she’s…she’s still kind of assessing, but…more like she’s made up her mind, by now. Finished her mission, fulfilled her agenda. Has the weight of him.

Possibly approves, even.

“You’re close enough.”

And goddamn, that is some glowing praise from Robin Buckley.

Especially when it comes to her Platonic Soulmate.

And yeah, maybe Eddie does drink the rest of his Yoo-hoo slushie with a little bit of pride for it.

He knows it tastes sweeter to the last obnoxious half-air-filled sip, either way.

1: Gareth // 2: Mrs. Harrington // 3: Wayne // 4: Chrissy // 5: Robin // +1: Steve // +2: ???

🍦💚 📼

✨also on ao3

💫for @penny00dreadful—happiest of happy birthdays, my lovely 🖤

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @ajeff855 @allmyfavoritethingsinoneblog @anthrobrat @askitwithflours @awkwardgravity1 @bookworm0690 @bumblebeecuttlefishes @captain--low @depressed-freak13 @disrespectedgoatman @dragoon-ze-great @dreamercec @dreamwatch @dreamy-jeans137 @estrellami-1 @eternal-sunflowers @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @goodolefashionedloverboi @grtwdsmwhr @gunsknivesandplaid @hiei-harringtonmunson @hbyrde36 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @kimsnooks @live-laugh-love-dietrich @madigoround @mensch-anthropos-human @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notaqueenakhaleesi @ollyxar @pearynice @perseus-notjackson @pretend-theres-a-name-here

divider credit here, and oddly: me, too 🖤

[deepspacenova]

Oh 🥺 okay Sylus 🥺

[fanficlibrary82]

Pseudo Parents

Word Count: 1,571

Warnings: Other than the fact that I wrote this in 3 hours, none

AN: I've never written for the X-Men before, so feedback is more than welcome!!!

Professor Xavier had called you and Logan in for a special trip to recruit a new young mutant he had located in the middle of Nebraska. “After observing the young man's home life, I think it's best if you two travel to him specifically. I've been mentally nudging his parents towards a “boarding school” but I need a friendly face to make that final push.” He smiled kindly at the both of you, and even though Logan's eyes had fluttered closed with a soft huff, you could've sworn there was the hint of a smile in return.  

The first suggestion was to fly, since it was halfway across the country, but you saw the way Logan tensed and jumped in. 

“What if we drove instead, professor? It'd take us a bit longer, but it would give you more time to relax the parents and warm the boy to the idea of leaving home.”

Logan had silently nudged your knee in thanks. You gently bumped his shoulder with yours, placed your hand on his wrist, and ran your thumb across his skin. 

Professor X watched you both with a soft look in his eyes. Your relationship wasn't a secret, and you were both so fond of each other that Charles knew he had to select you two in particular. His family will feel better knowing that these two can act as pseudo parents in their stead, if only for the ride here.

“Very well, a drive it is. I'll arrange a car and find a few places along the way for you to rest. You're to leave at first light tomorrow morning.” 

You thanked the professor and stood. Logan turned his wrist to give your hand a squeeze as you left the office.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

“Always,” you replied, squeezing his hand back. 

X

The drive had been perfectly fine so far; decent weather, you had been put in charge of music while riding shotgun, and Logan had even been making jokes. But once you crossed over into Iowa, night had fallen and had brought a wicked storm with it. While you hadn't managed to convince him to let you drive so far, (“You know I'm no good talkin’ to people. I drive, you convince.”) seeing the turn off for a local motel, you wouldn't take no for an answer. 

“You've been driving for 15 hours, Logan.”

“And? Just means we've only got…” he glanced at the GPS. “6 left. We can sleep when we get there and pick up the kid in the morning.”

You sighed, ready to fire a response back, but the bolt of lightning streaking across the sky made your eyes widen.

“Come on, Lo, this weather is-”

A loud crack of thunder cut you off, making you jump and reach for his hand. 

He took it, deftly bringing your knuckles to his lips before he changed lanes. 

“Shittier than expected?” He raised an eyebrow and glanced your way. He knew a bad storm is what made you realize your powers. Knew the memories it brought back. 

He pulled into the parking lot and gave your hand a squeeze. “You comin’ in or wanna wait here?” Before you could answer, another crack of thunder made you jump and squeeze his hand tighter.

“Group effort it is,” he nodded, giving the back of your hand one last kiss before letting go and grabbing your bags out of the back.

You ran to the lobby, Logan not far behind, managing to only get soaked instead of drenched. The clerk looked up from behind the desk, clearly not expecting anyone. 

“Oh, hi, uh…can I help you?” He flipped his phone face down on the counter and gave an honestly half decent attempt at looking interested. 

“Yeah, we just need a room for the night,” Logan replied, keeping a tight grip on your hand. He was cautious in the best of circumstances, so a shitty motel in the middle of nowhere was not making him feel great. 

The kid behind the counter grabbed some paperwork and a pen, sliding them across the desk. “Just need an ID and card for the room.”

You noticed the way he kept glancing at you, and it made your stomach churn. So, right as Logan reached across the desk, you concentrated, just how Charles had taught you, and made an illusory pair of wedding bands adorn your fingers. Judging by the way his eyes flicked from Logan's hand to yours, he got the message, but you needed no room for doubt.

“What brings you two to Wilton, Mr. Howlett?” 

“Just passin’ through.”

“Oh, baby, don’t make it sound so awful!” You pressed yourself closer to Logan's side and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “He promised to take me on a cross country road trip for our honeymoon. Took us a few months, but we're finally doing it!”

Logan looked down at you curiously before noticing the band around your finger and his. He smiled, leaning in to kiss your temple. “I wouldn't've heard the end of it if I didn't, baby.”

The clerk nodded and hummed, clearly losing interest as he turned to make your room key.

 Logan huffed out a low laugh and mouthed Honeymoon? You shrugged. First thing I could think of. 

“Well, uh…congrats. Have a safe rest of your trip.” The clerk handed Logan the cards and gave you a tight lipped nod before returning to his phone. You gave him a smile in thanks and Logan guided you to your room. 

“So we're married, huh? When'd that happen?” He grinned, unlocking the door. 

“I wanted a summer wedding but you insisted on winter, so we compromised with October.”

He shook his head, stepping back so you could get out of the rain. He locked the door and you leaned against it, knowing he'd sweep the small room for bedbugs and burglars alike before letting you so much as sit on the bed.

“Who all was there?” Logan called as he poked around the bathroom.

“Only our friends; Ororo, Scott, Jean, Hank, Kurt. The professor officiated. Did you know he was licensed in New York?”

Clicking the bathroom light off with a satisfied nod he leaned against the opposite wall and smirked at you. “I didn't, but I'm sure it was quite the ceremony if you planned it.” 

You smile fondly as you cross the room to wrap your arms around his neck. His hands fell to your waist as you laid your head on his chest.

“What was our first dance song?” His voice rumbled against your ear as he spoke softly.

“The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face,” you replied and he hummed in approval.

“Roberta Flack?”

“Is there any other version?” You tease and tilt up to look at him. 

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Not one I care to hear,” he smiled before he leaned down to kiss you. 

You threaded your fingers through the curls at the base of his neck, smiling against his lips. His grip on you tightened as his lips made their way across your chin and down your neck.

“We showerin’ tonight or in the mornin’?” He muttered.

You didn't miss the we in his sentence, and pressed against his chest with a raised eyebrow. “You tryin’ to get me naked, Howlett?”

He snorted and pulled back to rest his forehead against yours. “I mean, if we're married, I feel like that's part of my job.”

You laughed and gave him another quick kiss before pulling him towards the bathroom. 

X

After you had showered and changed, you crawled under the blankets and Logan was quick to follow. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you against him. You tucked your face into the crook of his neck and slid an arm across his chest. Your body slotted against his side and he tangled his legs with yours. His fingers found their way under your night shirt and gently caressed your skin, and you both sighed as you settled in for the night, feeling safe and warm in each other's arms.

Despite only living a few rooms apart at the school, it was rare you slept in the same bed. You both loved your students (even if Logan would never admit it out loud), but they tended to get a bit out of hand when their teachers got into relationships. You had both agreed early on that it was easier to just be coworkers while school was in session. Which made a night like tonight that much more special. With the rise and fall of his chest and his arm tight across your waist, you were lulled to sleep.

Once your breathing evened out, Logan turned to look at you. Your face fully relaxed, eyelashes fanned across your cheeks, he felt his chest tighten. A long time ago he gave up on the idea of love. For a man like him, real love was near impossible, the thought of them leaving or dying before he had visibly aged sabotaged any real chance he thought there could be.

But here, with the rain finally slowing and the moonlight shining across your face, he knew there wasn't any other word for what you had. He leaned down and pressed his lips against your hairline. 

“I love you, baby” he muttered against your skin. More than you'll ever know. 

[ikebo-simp]

Building an orphanage with Scaramouche would be really cute. I think it would be good for Scara if he got to care for children who don't have someone to take of them.

I think he's be pretty good with children, he'd start off a bit rough with them and maybe make a child cry.

But once that child starts crying, Scara remembers how vulnerable he was when he was first created.

"Shhh, shh, no it's okay.... I didn't mean to hurt you..."

He'd mentally berate himself for yelling at a kid who didn't know any better.

"...hey kid, 'm sorry"

"...sowwy?"

"Yeah, sorry, how can I fix it?"

"Can I pway with your hat?"

"Play. My hat?"

"Yeah! It's biiiiig and prebby!"

"Pretty. But is that really what you want?"

"Mister, if you don' wanna lemme pway with your hat, you just hafta say so!"

"I never sai-"

"Hmmm... then I want a huwg!"

"A hug?"

"Yeah! Grandma said that when you fight wiw someone, you need to huwg them to make it better! My grandma is sleeping right now, so they said I couldn't visit...."

"Do you... miss her?"

"Sometimes, but... wait mister! Are you trying to make me forget that I asked for a hwug? The lady that was taking care of me did that whenever I asked for candy!"

"No? Where did that idea come from?"

"Then give me a hug!"

"..."

"Do you not know how to huwg?"

Scaramouche does know how to hug, it's just that he only hugs you. And you normally initiate the hugs so he's out of practice.

"Hmmph! Come here mister! This is how you hug!"

Scara felt their little arms try and wrap around him, and felt that little bit of broken innocent child in him heal while interacting with this spunky kid

A/N this was supposed to be Scara dealing with kids and healing from feeling like being abandoned but uh... the kids kinda stole the show. It might be OOC

Thanks for reading