#Token Vesting

[streamflowfinanceusa]

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[streamflowfinance]

Binance Smart Chain is a blockchain platform developed by Binance, one of the largest cryptocurrency exchanges. It operates in parallel with Binance Chain, providing a platform for developers to create decentralized applications (DApps) and issue their own tokens. Token distribution on Binance Smart Chain can vary depending on the specific project or token. Many tokens on BSC follow a similar distribution model as Ethereum-based tokens, where they conduct an initial coin offering (ICO), initial exchange offering (IEO), or airdrops to distribute tokens to early investors, supporters, or the community.

[diamondkat]

Regarding Alastor being redeemed, I have been seeing some posts regarding how it can happen that trigger an instant ick reaction from me. I have taken time to think about why I keep having such a strongly negative reaction to it. The first thing I took into consideration is that I really do not want my current favourite bad boy to become good. I am first and foremost a villain fan and his becoming good has a high chance of ruining the character for me. This means that there is a chance that I would dislike any theory that ends with Alastor redeemed. A lot of time you see people making arguments for why a ship or character should not be liked when the real reason is they personally don't like it and the reasons are merely support. I try to make sure I am aware of my personal bias.

Regardless of my personal bias, I have decided that there is one particular theory regarding how Alastor can be redeemed that I hate from the bottom of my heart. It is the theory where Alastor after being humiliated, degraded and losing everything including his pride has no choice but to accept Charlie's care and change for the better. Sometimes it involves betraying the hotel first, but generally involves him being unable to deal with the challenges that he faces. I am sure how this works in the minds of those who like this theory makes perfect sense. He can no longer rely on himself, he sees that he isn't capable of anything and now has no choice but to become what Charle wants him to be. I hate it so much. I have kept turning it over in my mind and I think I have figured out all the reasons why separate from my bias.

First, suffering doesn't make people better. It just doesn't. The theory seems to require enough suffering to rewrite Alastor's personality and make him Charlie's puppet. It also reminds me of William Shakespeare's The Taming of the Shrew. The story of how the proud woman was broken down to make her obedient. She might be "better" but it also felt to me like she died and became a puppet. He would be "redeemed" but that wouldn't be Alastor. It would just be something that looks like him. I just feel like fans of Alastor who like this theory don't realise that he would lose everything that pulled them to him in the first place if this happened. Some could not deal with him being less energetic in the main show than the pilot due to him being bored. How would they deal with what would essentially be a hollow creature wearing his face trying to become good because there is nothing left in him?

Second, with a proud character you can't brute force them into letting people in. Part of the idea of the theory is that after he is humiliated and suffers in front of them, he will drop his smile and be forced to let others in. That doesn't make sense to me. We have already seen in S1E8, how Alastor deals with things not going his way. He holds onto what little control he has by refusing to drop his smile and holding onto his pride while going through a breakdown. The best way to get someone like Alastor as far as I am concerned is to deal with him the same way you would deal with a wild animal. Slowly lower their guard. I think Charlie is already doing that whether Alastor knows it or not. Besides, pride is an important part of the character. Pride is part of what drew me to the character in the first place. The kind of pride that makes a person think it is okay to say, "If I wanted to hurt anyone here I would have done so already" in front of the Princess of Hell, is part of what drew me to Alastor. If he lost it, the character would likely immediately lose all appeal to me. So, there is some personal bias there.

It would make sense to me if the theory was more about Alastor learning that he can rely on others and doesn't have to depend solely on himself which leads to him opening up and letting others in. However, the theory leans very heavily into suffering as a way to make him a better person and a complete erasure of everything that makes up the character through suffering to make him into someone who wants and is worthy of redemption. That's fine for fanfiction but I hope it never becomes canon.

[aquareegia]

Look at my new pin! 🐰✨️

[channelsoph]

i want everybody to know that sleep token’s audio crew (pink vests) had deer ears at the Leipzig Ritual

[foxgloveinspace]

Can’t wait for new shows and III pulling IV around by his hood now that they don’t have fabric masks😌

[puerifungorum]

[lexirosewrites]

omega Steve runs a business where people send clothing from their deceased relatives to be made into something new. he loves working with grieving family members and friends to create cherished scent memory tokens.

a kind older alpha commissions a teddy bear made from his nephew’s denim vest.

Steve opens the package and immediately bursts into tears. his scentmate is apparently dead.

[whateveriwant]

what about task force 141 always admiring their s/o picture before going on field or when they’re feeling lonely and missing them

Price

Because he's old (fashioned), he carries a standard 4x6in photo of you with him during his deployment

He had the picture developed ages ago – so long, in fact, you thought he'd gotten rid of it many many tours ago (he never would, of course; he even has an extra copy of the negative stowed in a shoebox in the back of your shared closet, just in case)

Every day, he makes sure your face is the first thing he sees when he wakes up, as well as the last thing he looks at before going to sleep (just like he would if he was home with you)

When he's not admiring the photo, he keeps it in the breast pocket of his tac vest directly over his heart

He's folded and unfolded it so many times that it's starting to fade and tear at the seams, showing just how loved it is all these years later

Gaz

I can see him having a locket with a tiny picture of you inside

Just a little circular gold pendant, no bigger than the pad of first finger, which he hangs around his neck right beside his dog tags

He bought a matching one for you (which you wear all the time, regardless of whether he's home or not), the only difference is yours is heart-shaped and has a picture of him inside

Most of the time, he'll keep the locket tucked safely beneath his shirt, but will pull it out and look at it on days he's feeling particularly lonely or homesick

However, sometimes (especially when he's anxious about an upcoming mission), he doesn't even look at the picture inside – just worries the surface of the pendant with his thumb, rubbing at the thin grooves that form the looped letters of your initials

Soap

Similar to Price, he carries a larger picture of you with him – his, however, is a polaroid

You bought him the vintage style camera for his birthday a few years back, and immediately upon unwrapping it, he started snapping a bunch of candid photos of you with it

Despite how unflattering you say you look in them, he thinks you're absolutely gorgeous (after all, that's why he carries multiple with him – his favorite one always on the top of the stack)

If he can get away from the guys during the mission, he often finds himself talking out loud to the photo, speaking as if you're really there listening to him

As much as he loves to study your face, his favorite part of the polaroid is your little note scrawled across the bottom: Any more chins and I'll be using your parachute as a scarf

Ghost

This might be a little controversial but I don't think he'd carry around a physical picture of you

Pictures of you on his phone? Sure. But he's not taking his unencrypted smartphone into the middle of enemy territory, you know?

Instead, I think he carries a little trinket of yours with him – something small, seemingly inconsequential, like a hair tie or one of your favorite bookmarks

You might've noticed some things gone missing here and there, but never realized that he was nabbing them for his own little keepsake

He keeps it hidden away majority of the time, but every now and then when he starts to downward spiral, he'll pull out that token as a reminder of what (or whom) he has waiting for him back home, and it gives him the strength he needs to power through

[streamflowfinanceusa]

9 Things Your Parents Taught You About Token Vesting Schedule

Introduction

As the world of blockchain and cryptocurrencies continues to grow, the concept of token vesting has become a crucial aspect for founders, employees, and investors in various projects. Token vesting schedules are designed to incentivize long-term commitment, prevent quick exits, and promote stability within a project's ecosystem. Interestingly, some of the principles behind token vesting schedules have their roots in the valuable life lessons that our parents taught us. In this blog, we'll explore nine insightful parallels between what our parents taught us and what we can learn from token vesting schedules.

1. Patience is a Virtue

One of the primary lessons our parents instill in us is patience. Just as they taught us to wait for rewards, a token vesting schedule encourages stakeholders to exercise patience before fully unlocking their tokens. This instills discipline, prevents impulsive decisions, and ensures that token holders remain committed to the project's long-term success.

2. Delayed Gratification

Similar to the concept of delayed gratification, where we are taught to work hard and wait for the results, token vesting embodies the idea that value accrues over time. Token holders gradually receive their tokens, which encourages them to stay invested, contribute to the project's growth, and participate in its success.

3. Loyalty and Commitment

Parents often emphasize the importance of loyalty and commitment to family, friends, and goals. Token vesting aligns with this principle, fostering commitment from team members and early investors by rewarding them with tokens over an extended period. This mutual commitment strengthens the project's foundation and its chances of success.

4. Accountability and Responsibility

Our parents teach us to be accountable and responsible for our actions. In token vesting, stakeholders are held accountable for their vested tokens, ensuring that they actively contribute to the project's development, make responsible decisions, and act in the project's best interest.

5. Long-Term Vision

Just as our parents encourage us to have a long-term vision for our lives, token vesting schedules promote a similar outlook for projects. By aligning incentives with the long-term success of the venture, vested tokens encourage stakeholders to think beyond short-term gains and focus on sustainable growth.

6. Embracing Challenges

Life is full of challenges, and our parents teach us to face them head-on. Token vesting schedules can also present challenges, such as market volatility and changing project dynamics. By staying committed through the ups and downs, vested stakeholders contribute to the project's resilience and ability to overcome hurdles.

7. Teamwork and Collaboration

Collaboration and teamwork are essential in both personal and professional life. Token vesting brings team members and early supporters together, fostering a collaborative environment where everyone works towards the common goal of project success.

8. Consistency and Persistence

Consistency and persistence are virtues that help us achieve our goals. Token vesting schedules reinforce these values by rewarding stakeholders who consistently contribute to the project's growth, even during challenging times.

9. Planning for the Future

Lastly, our parents encourage us to plan for the future and make wise decisions. Token vesting enforces planning for the long-term success of a project by aligning incentives and ensuring that everyone involved is invested in the project's future.

Conclusion

The parallels between the lessons our parents taught us and the principles behind token vesting schedules are remarkable. Patience, delayed gratification, loyalty, accountability, long-term vision, embracing challenges, teamwork, consistency, and planning are all valuable attributes that contribute to a successful life and a thriving blockchain project. By recognizing these connections, we can better appreciate the significance of token vesting and its role in creating sustainable and prosperous crypto ecosystems.

[streamflowfinance]

The world of cryptocurrency has seen aggressive growth in recent years, with a large number of projects launching their digital tokens. Run these projects for the long term, these projects require careful consideration of token distribution mechanisms. Token vesting plays an important role in managing token supply and incentivizing project participants. In this blog, we will explain the concept of crypto token vesting, its significance, and its impact on project success. Token Vesting offers many advantages for a crypto project, Vesting ensures that the participating team and advisors are committed to the project in the long term.

[the-fabled-void]

Fresh officiating Cross and Epic’s wedding: Dearly bruhloved, we are swaggered here today to join these two bros in holy matrihomie

If there is anyone here who highkey has any beef with this power couple, let them make a callout post now, or forever oof in peace.

Fresh:  Cross, do you take this dude to be your ride-or-die, to stan him, to vibe with him, to stay with him through Ls and Ws, to keep it real, for as long as you both shall live?

Cross: Bet. 

Fresh: Epic, do you take this bruh to be your ride-or-die, to stan him, to vibe with him, to stay with him through Ls and Ws, to keep it real, for as long as you both shall live?

Epic: Bet. 

(Traditional exchange of rubber chickens) 

Cross: I give you this rubber chicken as proof that I will always be your bae and not just your fam. 

Epic: I give you this rubber chicken as a token that I'll always be on your team, through good vibes and  big oofs. 

(Fresh asks them to make their hands into fists) 

Fresh: By virtue of the authority vested in me under the laws of the Multiverse, I now pronounce you dude and bruh. May your relationship always be goals. 

Fresh to Cross: You may now fist bump the dude

[aquareegia]

made an unhinged lil checkered sock pin for my vest lol:

for someone who loves sleep token and has an unhealthy amount of checkered socks in all colours, this is actually the perfect pin 😅

[ghostlyglimmer]

The Fun Zone Part 3

You can find previous chapters here

Summary:

Danny Fenton’s part-time job at The Fun Zone—a chaotic arcade and entertainment center that’s secretly a gang front—was going great until a certain vigilante stormed in to shut the place down.

It was another day at The Fun Zone, and Danny was manning the counter like always, half-heartedly sorting through a stack of tokens while sipping on an overly sweet slushy. Business was steady enough to keep him on his feet, but not so busy that he couldn’t hear the unmistakable chime of the front door opening.

Danny didn’t look up right away. “Welcome to The Fun Zone,” he called out in his default bored tone. “Mini-golf is on special today. Please don’t fight over the clown hole.”

“Actually, I’m more interested in laser tag,” came a voice that was far too chipper for Gotham. Danny glanced up to see a young man with a camera slung around his neck and a backpack that looked too functional to just carry snacks. His black hair stuck out at odd angles, and his smile radiated the kind of curiosity that immediately put Danny on edge.

“Sure thing,” Danny said cautiously, taking in the guy’s face. He wasn’t exactly memorable, but he had the same intense energy as a kid trying to win all the prizes at once. “Laser tag’s fifteen bucks for unlimited rounds. You here alone?”

“Yup.” The guy smiled wider. “I like to… scout out fun places for my blog. Gotham doesn’t have many safe places for kids, you know?”

Danny raised an eyebrow. “A blog? About arcades?”

“And family fun centers,” the guy corrected, his voice practically oozing innocence. “Places like this are important. Keeps kids off the streets, you know?”

Danny wasn’t buying it for a second. No one with that much pep belonged in Gotham. “Cool. Name?”

“Uh…” The guy hesitated.

"It's for the ticket." Danny replied

“Tim.” The boy smiled sheepishly

“Tim,” Danny repeated, staring at him for a moment before shrugging. “Okay, Tim. Here’s your gear.”

Danny handed over a laser tag vest and a blaster, noting the subtle tension in Tim’s posture, like he was expecting something to jump out at him. “Laser tag arena’s through the back. Don’t break anything.”

Tim nodded and wandered off, though not without a suspicious glance at the prize counter as if he were cataloging the stuffed animals for some secret database. Danny watched him go, his unease growing.

About ten minutes later, the chime of the office door opening caught Danny’s attention. Red Hood poked his head out “Hey, where’s that slush—”

Hood stopped mid-sentence, narrowing his eyes toward the laser tag entrance. “God damnit-Stay here. Don’t let him leave until I get back.”

“Uh, sure, boss,” Danny said, watching as Hood stalked off toward the laser tag arena like a man on a mission.

Fifteen minutes later, Danny was back at the counter when Tim returned, looking slightly disheveled but otherwise unbothered. He placed the laser tag gear on the counter and smiled. “That was fun. You’ve got a good setup here.”

Danny crossed his arms. “You meet my boss in there?”

Tim’s smile didn’t falter. “Oh, you mean the guy who thinks laser tag is a viable interrogation method? Yeah, we had a nice chat.”

“Sure you did,” Danny said dryly, grabbing a disinfectant wipe to clean the gear. “So, what’s the deal? You guys just take turns harassing me, or is this some kind of weird Gotham hazing ritual?”

Tim tilted his head, genuinely curious. “You seem pretty unfazed by all this. Not many people can handle Red Hood breathing down their neck without sweating.”

Danny smirked. “I’ve had worse bosses.”

“Fair enough,” Tim said, pulling a notepad out of his pocket and jotting something down. “By the way, do you guys host birthday parties?”

“Yeah, but it’s mostly chaos and kids screaming for tokens,” Danny replied. “Not sure it’s blog-worthy.”

Tim grinned, slipping the notepad back into his pocket. “Oh, I think this place is definitely worth writing about.”

As Tim walked out the door, Danny sighed, already bracing himself for whatever nonsense tomorrow would bring. Hood emerged from the laser tag arena a moment later, looking equal parts annoyed and suspicious.

“He leave?” Hood asked.

“Yup,” Danny replied. “Said he’s writing about us.”

“Great,” Hood muttered. “Now we’re gonna end up on Bat's watchlist.”

Danny couldn’t suppress his grin. “We weren’t already?”

Hood shot him a glare. “Shut up and mop the arcade.”

Danny gave a mock salute. “Aye aye, Captain Hood.”

[sirxaibs]

Present Mic | Hizashi Yamada X Reader

⋆˚✿˖° Mid Life Crisis ⋆˚✿˖°

I want to become tumblr’s token Present mic fanfic writer. I LOVE THAT MAN LIKE NOBODY CAN!!! One person in my DMs had me going back to my drafts immediately

masterlist

he’s never peaked and he will never peak because he’s perfect and amazing.

Hizashi’s house was huge. It didn’t look it from the outside, but once you stepped in, it was like a shrine to rock and roll. Posters of legendary bands covered the walls, electric guitars hung all across the rooms, and vinyl records stacked in neat rows lined the shelves. It was so him,loud in personality but meticulously cared for.

You were getting ready in his bedroom, standing in front of his full length mirror, adjusting the tight dress that hugged all the right places. It wasn’t anything too much, but it was enough to turn heads, and you were already excited for the one person that you cared about to see you.

“Alright, babe, you ready to-” His voice cut off as soon as he stepped in. You smirked at him through the mirror. He had his hair tied up in a bun, a simple button up and vest combo making him look effortlessly cool. But that wasn’t the fun part, the fun part was the way he was staring. “-go?” His voice cracked slightly at the end, and you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing.

“Oh? Something wrong, Yamada?” you teased, turning to face him fully, giving a little spin. “Too much?”

Hizashi blinked, his mouth slightly open, then shook his head violently. “Nope! Nope, not at all! In fact, I, wow, okay, I love my life.”

You laughed, stepping closer, running a hand down his vest. “You clean up nice yourself. That handsome face of yours, I’m gonna have to fight off the others tonight.”

“Me? Babe, me? I need to be concerned about you!” He pointed an exaggerated, accusing finger at you. “Do you see yourself? You’re illegal. You should be arrested for—wait, no, that sounds weird—uh, I should be arrested for—uh—”

You snorted as he tripped over his words, his usual confident, loud persona cracking in real time. Adorable. “So you like it?” you hummed, tilting your head.

“Like is an understatement, sweetheart. You are out here committing crimes against my heart, and I ain’t even mad about it.” He held you close, staring at you, or rather looking right in your eyes. “I’m simping so hard right now, I swear.”

You grinned, stepping even closer, hands resting on his chest now. “I should not had let the class teach you that word….Then should we even go to the party? Or should I just let you keep simping all night?

Hizashi groaned, throwing his head back. “Babe, don’t tempt me. The only thing keeping me from locking this door and worshipping the ground you walk on is that I know if we don’t show up, Aizawa is going to kill me if I leave him alone.”

You pouted dramatically. “Ugh, fine. But you better keep this same energy the whole night.” He leaned down, lips just barely brushing against yours before he grinned. “Oh, sweetheart, you know me”

—-

Hizashi didn’t let up. Not at all. Not when you were walking through the front doors of the party, his arm firmly wrapped around your waist as if staking his claim which, considering the amount of attention you were getting in that dress, was completely intentional.

the loud, confident, sometimes utterly ridiculous man who never seemed to run out of energy. And you, the calm (most of the time), equally confident pro who somehow managed to keep up with his antics. People talked about your relationship all the time. The age gap, the differences in energy, how did this even happen? conversations. But the truth, You were stupid for each other.

It wasn’t just the attraction, though damn if that wasn’t strong. It was the fact that no matter how much Hizashi turned a room into his stage, his eyes always found you first. The fact that, even after a long day, when he should’ve been crashing, he’d still pull you into his arms and hum softly, running his hands through your hair as you talked about your day. The fact that for all his confidence, you were the one who made him speechless. on the flip side? He was your biggest hype man. Always in your corner, always reminding you just how much of a badass you were. You might be a top 10 pro, but he made sure you felt like one, even on the days when you didn’t.

——

The party was in full swing, music blaring, drinks flowing, and pros of all ranks finally letting loose for once. It was rare to get a night like this, where no one had to worry about saving the world, so you were damn well going to enjoy it. You were on the dance floor with Hawks and Mirko, and it was all over the place.

Mirko was hyping you up like crazy, clapping and whistling every time you so much as moved, while Hawks, ever the showman, had decided he was going to out dance everyone. including you.

“Alright, alright,” you laughed, pointing at Hawks as he spun dramatically. “You do realize you’re the only one trying, right?”

“Oh, please,” he shot back, flipping his bangs out of his eyes. “This is all done in a super nonchalant way. You’re just mad, you can’t keep up!”

That earned a sharp laugh from Mirko, who immediately joined in. “Yeah, no way I’m letting that slide. Get his ass.”

And so the battle began. At some point, it stopped being about looking good and turned into pure nonsense. Argyably it never looked good. Hawks attempting breakdancing moves he had no business trying, Mirko throwing in kicks just because? and you? You just let loose, moving however you wanted, laughing so hard your sides hurt. Some of the other pros were watching, some cheering, some just shaking their heads at the spectacle. Midnight had walked by at one point, smirking knowingly. “Well, aren’t you three the life of the party?”

“Damn right we are!” Hawks shot back, striking a pose.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Hizashi was not moving at all. He and Aizawa had claimed one of the couches, and while the party raged around them, they were just chilling. Hizashi had one arm draped over the back of the couch, his drink in hand, his usual grin plastered on his face. He was vibing, content just being there, occasionally chatting with Aizawa between pros walking past and greeting them.

Aizawa, on the other hand, was doing what he did best sitting in silence, eyes half lidded, drink untouched.

“She’s having fun,” Aizawa eventually said, nodding towards you on the dance floor. Hizashi followed his gaze, his grin softening a bit when he spotted you. Even in a crowd, even with people surrounding you, his eyes always found you first.

“Yeah,” he said, voice just a little too fond. “She looks real good, too.”

Aizawa sighed. “You’re so lame.”

Hizashi cackled. “Oh, you have no idea, man.”

Hizashi leaned back against the couch, stretching his legs out as he sipped his drink. The bass from the speakers vibrated through the room, but he was content just sitting there, people watching with Aizawa. It was a rare break from the chaos of pro hero life, and even if the night was loud, it was nice. Aizawa, meanwhile, sat like he always did hunched, arms crossed, looking like he was two seconds away from dipping. Hizashi wasn’t fooled, though. The fact that Aizawa hadn’t actually left yet meant he didn’t hate it too much.

“Hard to believe we get to do this now, huh?” Hizashi mused, watching as a few lower ranked pros passed by, nodding respectfully in their direction. Some were fresh faces, new names climbing the ranks, and it reminded him just how much things had changed.

Aizawa sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Feels weird. Feels like we should be doing something else. Something useful.” Hizashi snorted. “You are doing something useful relaxing.”

Aizawa gave him a look. “That’s your definition of useful?”

“Damn right it is!” Hizashi gestured dramatically around the room. “Look at everyone! They’re all taking a break, lettin’ loose, remembering they’re people and not just walking disaster response units. You think we don’t deserve this?”

Aizawa hesitated, his expression unreadable. Hizashi knew where his mind was going before he even had to say it. The sheer amount of loss they’d all seen, the students, the fellow heroes, the weight of the world on their shoulders. It was hard to sit back and have a good time when the job never really stopped.

Before Aizawa could spiral too deep, a familiar voice cut through the moment. “Wow, look at you two, I dont know if you guys know how a party works”

Hizashi looked up to see Snipe passing by, arms crossed, the usual deep-set frown on his face. Beside him, Power loader, now slightly sweaty from dancing, grinned at the sight of them.

“Don’t be jealous, old man,” Hizashi shot back. “Not everyone can handle this level of zen!”

Snipe just smiles and walked away. Power Loader, however, laughed and clapped Hizashi on the shoulder before following.

“Man, with the amount of pros here I feel there's a problem bound to happen,” Aizawa muttered. Before Hizashi could respond, another familiar presence approached, Kamui Woods and Mt. Lady.

“Yamada,” Kamui greeted with a nod.

“Hizashi,” Mt. Lady added, her gaze flickering over to Aizawa. “And… the usual grump.” Aizawa just sighed.

“You two taking it easy, huh?” Kamui asked.

“Someone’s gotta hold down the couches,” Hizashi joked.

Mt. Lady smirked. “You sure you’re not just getting old?”

“Ouch!” Hizashi smiled. “whats up with the hate for relaxing at parties?”

She just laughed as she and Kamui walked off, leaving Hizashi shaking his head. Aizawa took another sip of his drink before finally speaking. “You are getting old, though.”

“Excuse me?”

Aizawa gave him a sideways glance, eyes just barely amused. “You’re 30, dating a 22 year old, wearing your hair in a bun, talking about how much things have changed, face it, you’re having a mid life crisis.”

Hizashi gasped like he’d just been personally attacked which he kinda did. “How dare you.”

Aizawa shrugged. “Just calling it like I see it.”

Hizashi shook his head, sighing dramatically. “And here I was, thinking I could count on my best friend to support me.”

“I am supporting you,” Aizawa said, smirking slightly. “I just think it’s funny.”

“You’re so lucky I love you, man,” Hizashi grumbled, finishing off his drink.

Aizawa hummed. “Lucky is one way to put it.”

Hizashi wasn’t the jealous type. He wasn’t insecure, either. He was loud, confident, and damn well knew what he brought to the table. But the age thing? Yeah. That always made him think. He knew Aizawa had just been messing with him, it was what they did, their whole friendship built on dry humor and good natured jabs. But now, sitting there, watching the party move around him, the thought wouldn’t leave his head.

He was 30. You were 22.

Eight years wasn’t that bad. It wasn’t like he was some old man, but still sometimes, it made him wonder.

You were young, in your prime, one of the best heroes out there. You had the world at your feet. And sure, he was at some point in the top 10, too, still full of energy, but there were moments like this one where he felt older. Not in a way that made him doubt himself, but in a way that made him wonder if you’d ever look back and think… damn, I should’ve picked someone my own age.

He hated thinking like that. It was dumb. You were with him. You chose him, over and over again. But it didn’t change the fact that every now and then, the thought crept in. Maybe it was because he loved you so much. Like, a stupid amount. Enough that he wanted to make sure you never regretted choosing him. Enough that he caught himself worrying about things he’d normally laugh off.

Maybe that’s what a mid-life crisis really was. Not the bun, not the nostalgia, not the way Aizawa poked fun. It was realizing you had something so good, and you’d do anything to keep it. He let out a slow breath, rubbing his thumb over the rim of his glass. Aizawa, ever perceptive even when half asleep, glanced at him. “You actually thinking about it?”

Hizashi snorted, shaking his head. “Nah. Just… y’know.”

Aizawa hummed. “You know she loves you, right?”

That made Hizashi pause. It wasn’t like Aizawa to say stuff like that outright.

Hizashi chuckled, leaning back again, the tension easing just a little. “Yeah. I know.”

And he did. He just had to remind himself sometimes.

——

The music was still pounding, the lights flashing in a dizzying rhythm as you moved with Hawks and Mirko. The three of you had long given up on anything resembling actual dancing. it was just pure fun now. Hawks was still determined to outshine everyone, while Mirko hyped up literally everything you did, laughing wildly every time one of you spun too fast or almost tripped.

Maybe you’d had a little too much to drink. You weren’t drunk, just… happy. A little lightheaded, a little more free. Enough that the world felt warmer, easier, like nothing could touch you in this moment. Or you were drunk. hussssh now

And then, between the spinning lights and the blur of movement, your eyes landed on him. Hizashi was still on the couch, still grinning, still talking with Aizawa, but… something felt off. Maybe it was the slight shift in his posture, or the way his usual energy seemed just a little muted.

You didn’t think. One second, you were dancing. The next, you were running. Well, stumbling, really. Mirko shouted something, probably encouragement. Hawks called after you, definitely something teasing. But you didn’t stop. You just launched yourself forward, nearly crashing into Hizashi’s side as you practically tackled him in a hug.

“WHOA!” Hizashi barely had time to react before you were on him, arms wrapped around his torso, your body half in his lap as you buried your face against his vest.

“Heyyyyy,” you mumbled, grinning up at him.

Hizashi blinked, caught somewhere between startled and entirely smitten. Then, as if on instinct, he wrapped his arms around you, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Babe, you good?”

“Mmmhmm.” You nuzzled closer, tightening your hold. “Just wanted to be near you.”

Aizawa, still sitting beside him, gave you both the most unimpressed look before sighing. “I’m leaving.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hizashi waved him off, though his eyes never left you. “Love you too, bro.”

Aizawa just grunted, standing up and disappearing into the crowd. Hizashi, meanwhile, exhaled slowly, letting his chin rest against the top of your head. “Didn’t know I was makin’ a face to call you over.”

“You weren’t,” you murmured. “But I know you.”

Hizashi’s arms tightened around you. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just held you there, warm and solid, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. Then, with a soft laugh, he murmured, “Im so lucky I love you.”

“Mmhmm.” You grinned. “I love you.”

You leaned back just enough to meet his gaze, still grinning, still feeling weightless from the drinks and the music and him. Hizashi’s golden eyes flickered with warmth, soft under the dim party lights. He was still holding you close, one arm securely around your waist, the other resting lazily along the back of the couch.

You just stared at him, a slow, happy smile spreading across your lips.

He raised a brow, smirking slightly. “What’re you lookin’ at, silly girl?”

Your smile widened. “Just you.”

Hizashi’s grip on you tightened, his smirk faltering for half a second before he chuckled low and fond and a little breathless. “Damn,” he murmured, shaking his head. “You tryna kill me tonight?”

You hummed, tilting your head. “Maaaybe.”

He laughed, the sound softer than usual, quieter, meant just for you. His fingers curled slightly against your waist, absentmindedly tracing circles through the fabric of your dress.

“Y’know,” he mused, eyes flickering down to your lips before meeting your gaze again, “if you keep lookin’ at me like that, I might just have to kiss ya right here, in front of everyone.”

You grinned, tilting your chin up just slightly. “Then do it.”

Hizashi inhaled sharply, his eyes darkening for half a second, like you’d really just tested him. Then, with a dramatic sigh, he flopped back against the couch, “You’re so cute,” he teased, “so reckless, throwin’ my heart around like it’s not already yours.”

You giggled, resting your forehead against his. “Oops.” He let out another laugh, softer this time, before pressing a quick, firm kiss to your temple. “C’mon, babe.” His voice was warm, teasing, but genuine. “Let’s get you some water before you start tryin’ to propose to me or somethin’.”

You gasped even louder, dramatically placing a hand over your heart like he had just offended you. “How dare you, Mic?”

His grin widened. “I knew it—”

But before he could finish, you grabbed his hand, holding it tightly between both of yours as you sat up on your knees beside him. “Hizashi Yamada,” you began, voice full of drunken conviction.

“Oh my god,” he wheezed, eyes widening.

“You are the loudest, most ridiculous, most obnoxiously handsome man I have ever met,” you declared, staring deeply into his golden eyes. “You make me laugh, you make me smile, and you make me feel like the luckiest person alive.”

Hizashi covered his mouth with his free hand, shoulders shaking with laughter. “Babe—”

“Shhh,” you hushed him by placing a hand on his face. then squeezing his fingers. “Let me finish.”

At this point, some of the nearby pros had started noticing. Mirko was doubled over dying in the background, Hawks was crying laughing, and even a few others had turned their heads, realizing that something was going down.

“So,” you continued, lifting his hand like you were about to slip a ring on it, “Hizashi Yamada, my dear, sweet rockstar of a boyfriend… will you—”

Hizashi lunged, scooping you up in his arms and pulling you into his lap before you could even finish. “NOPE,” he shouted, grinning wildly as you giggled hysterically. “We are NOT doin’ this in front of everybody, sweetheart!”

“But I’m serious!” you cackled, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’m so serious!”

Hizashi groaned, dramatically letting his forehead fall against your shoulder. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“Soooo… is that a yes?”

He pulled back, looked at you with the softest smile, and leaned in close, his lips barely brushing your ear as he murmured, “Ask me again when you’re sober, babe.”*

Hizashi had always known he loved you. That wasn’t new. It wasn’t some grand realization that hit him all at once it was something steady, something constant, like a favorite song playing on loop in the background of his life.

But sometimes like right now it hit him differently. You hadn’t asked what was wrong. You hadn’t pried or tried to dig into his thoughts. You’d just looked at him, noticed the way his energy had faltered for even a second, and decided that was all you needed to know.

You had run to him… well crashed into his side, curled up against him like he was the only thing that mattered in a room full of pros. You weren’t trying to fix anything, weren’t offering reassurances you didn’t even know he needed. You were just there. Holding him, looking at him like he was still the coolest guy in the room, like he was still your favorite person.

And damn if that didn’t make his chest feel too tight in the best possible way. Hizashi had spent years making other people feel seen, heard, important. That was just who he was. But you? You did that for him.

Without even trying.

And he wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve that, to deserve you, but hell. he’d take it. He’d take every drunk proposal, every chaotic moment, every time you looked at him like he mattered more than the number next to his name on the hero charts.

You held his hand so tightly, no hesitation, no doubt, like letting go wasn’t even an option to you.

And as he scooped you up into his lap to stop you from dramatically proposing in front of everyone, as you giggled against him, as he told you to ask again when you were sober he knew.

Hizashi Yamada, ranked 42, loudest hero in the country, knew. If you ever did ask him again… His answer would always be yes.

—-

The second Hizashi unlocked the front door, you beelined for the couch. Well “beelined” was a strong word. It was more of a zigzagging, slightly uncoordinated stumble, courtesy of the drinks still making everything feel just a little too floaty.

“Babe” Hizashi barely had time to react before

THUMP.

You face planted directly onto the couch, limbs sprawled, dress slightly askew, completely motionless. Silence.

“Oh my god,” Hizashi wheezed, kicking the door shut behind him as laughter exploded out of him. “You good?!”

Your muffled voice came from somewhere in the couch cushions. “I live here now.”

Hizashi wiped a hand down his face, shaking his head, still grinning like an idiot. “Nah, babe, you gotta move. we gotta get you to bed.”

You dramatically threw an arm over your face. “Not anymore. This couch and I are one.”

“suuuuure.” He snorted, walking over and kneeling beside you, hands warm as he gently rubbed your back. “You are so lucky you’re cute.”

You peeked out from under your arm, giving him a lazy, loopy grin. “I knooow.”

Hizashi chuckled, then leaned in, brushing a kiss against your temple. “C’mon, superstar,” he murmured. “Let’s get you outta this dress and into somethin’ comfy before you actually pass out here.”*

You hummed thoughtfully. “Counteroffer: carry me.”

Hizashi groaned dramatically, already slipping his arms under you. “You are the most spoiled human alive”

“And yet, you love me.”

He sighed, lifting you effortlessly into his arms, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “Yeah, yeah. I really, really do.”*

As Hizashi carried you toward the bedroom, you let your head rest on his shoulder, gazing at the familiar surroundings. You’d always technically had your own place, your own space to retreat to. A sleek apartment in the heart of the city, stylish and practical. It had everything you needed, an expansive living room, a kitchen with all the gadgets, and a spacious bedroom with a view of the skyline.

But lately? You hadn’t spent much time there. You’d find yourself opting for Hizashi’s place more and more. His house was different from yours, messy in the best way, with guitars propped up against the walls and posters of old school rock bands plastered on every inch of the space. It wasn’t as polished or clean as your apartment, but that was part of its charm. The clutter felt lived in, real. Every inch of his place had his touch on it, and somehow, it felt like home in a way your apartment never quite did.

Even the sounds of the house were different, his music blaring from speakers, his laughter filling the air in a way your space had never known. And then there was the smell of his cologne, of takeout containers on the counter, and the lingering scent of old vinyl records. It was comfortable in a way your place could never be.

—-

You were already curled up on the bed, the cozy oversized hoodie of Hizashi’s hanging loosely around your shoulders as you relaxed, your eyes drifting lazily over to him.

Hizashi was standing by the dresser, pulling his shirt from his back. You could see the outline of his muscles through the fabric, his usual confident swagger already making its way into the room. The shirt came off, and you couldn’t help yourself.

“Hubba hubba,” you said, low and teasing, eyes half lidded in playful admiration.

Hizashi paused mid motion, glancing at you with an exaggerated roll of his eyes, his lips twitching as he shook his head. “Really? You’ve had enough of the party already, and now you’re making comments like that?”

“I’m just appreciating the view,” you grinned, propping yourself up on your elbows as you watched him with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

already pulling his t-shirt off and tossing it casually over his shoulder, sending it flying directly toward you. “There. Now you can cuddle with this.”

You caught it effortlessly, wrapping it around yourself with a dramatic sigh. “Oh, this is like drugs”

Hizashi smirked, standing now in just his vest, eyes twinkling with that usual teasing glint. “You’re welcome, superstar. Now, sleep. I swear, you can’t be serious about anything right now.”

“Who said I wasn’t serious?” you teased, settling back into the pillows with the shirt around you like a blanket. “I’m just showing my appreciation for my handsome boyfriend.”

Hizashi chuckled, walking toward the bed and lying down next to you. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he muttered, already getting comfortable beside you. “Alright, enough with the compliments. We both need sleep.”

You couldn’t resist giving him one last playful glance, leaning over and kissing his cheek quickly before nestling down beside him. “Fine, fine… but I’m still thinking ‘hubba hubba’ in my head.”

He rolled his eyes once more, pulling you closer with a content sigh. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Yep,” you whispered with a sleepy smile. “and i’m sure you wouldn’t want it any other way.” He didn’t reply right away, his arms pulling you close as you both settled in for the night.

You: i don't want to victim blame but maybe if he didn't want to be called babygirl he shouldn't have been such a babygirl. just a thought.

:0

[estrellami-1]

March Mating Madness

Day 1: Courting Rituals

I’ll Do (Anything for You)

Ao3 Link

This is a part of the Tell Me ‘verse! This fic takes place during Tell Me (Just Enough), but can be read as a standalone fic.

“So,” Eddie starts. They’re sitting on his couch, and he’s holding Steve’s hands. This feels strangely like an intervention, and Steve’s getting nervous.

“Um,” he says. He thinks his hands are getting sweaty. He knows he’s probably scenting something awful. “Yeah?”

“Nothing bad,” Eddie promises. “Just. You know you didn’t get to be courted the way you deserve.”

Steve softens. “Eddie, I don’t care about any of that. I have your vest, I have your bite-”

“No, I- I know, sweetheart. I know you got used to getting less than you deserve and I know this is normal to you now, but I will never stop trying to make you understand that just because that’s how it was doesn’t meant it’s how it should be. Because how it should be is you should have a whole lot more gifts than you do. I gave you the vest because you ripped up your shirt to make bandages, darling, not because I like the way you look in it. Though,” he grins, “I do like the way you look in it.”

Steve sighs. “So that’s it? You’re going to court me? And I get no say in the matter?”

“Um.” Eddie squints. “Do you… not want to be courted?”

“Well,” Steve draws out, which means he does and is being a little shit about it. Eddie grins. “If you’ve already decided, then there’s no reason for me to care either way, is there?”

Eddie chuckles. “Just you wait, baby, I’m’a blow your socks off.”

Steve chuckles back. “I can’t wait.”

“First things first,” Eddie says, and takes off a ring, “Steven Elias Harrington, I’ve come to state my intent to formally court you. By accepting this ring, you will be accepting my courtship. I will swear, as your Alpha, to always keep you safe, healthy, and happy, to the best of my abilities. I will swear, as your Alpha, to provide for your every need and want. I will swear, as your Alpha, a safe place to lay your head at night, and a safe place to rear any and all pups you may want. If this pleases you, then please, accept my first token, so I may begin courting you.”

“Why the fuck am I crying,” Steve wonders, laughing at himself even as he takes the ring. “Of course I’ll accept your courtship, Eddie.”

Eddie, kneeling on the ground in front of the couch, does a goofy little fist pump and reaches for a tissue for Steve. “I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m sorry.”

Steve shakes his head. “Good tears. Come cuddle me?”

“Always,” Eddie agrees immediately, clambering onto the couch behind Steve.

Steve relaxes back onto him, letting out a sigh and going boneless. “Y’know something?” He murmurs.

“What’s that?”

“You feel just right. The couch hurts my back a little, no matter what pillows I add or take away. But you fit every bump of my spine perfectly. ‘S like I was made for you.”

“I’m choosing to believe you were,” Eddie murmurs. “There’s gotta be some reason we’re scent-compatible.”

Steve snickers. “I guess so.” He snuggles into Eddie. “Tell me?” He asks quietly.

“I love you,” Eddie tells him immediately, whispering it into the nape of his neck.

“Baby,” Eddie calls, skipping into the Harrington house one day. “I’ve got something for you!”

“Oh,” Steve says, “Hi, Eddie.”

Eddie frowns. “You don’t sound too good, baby, are you feeling okay?”

Steve sniffles, shakes his head. Grabs a tissue and blows his nose. “‘S just a cold. I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t doubt it, sweetheart, but why don’t we get you in bed? I’ll make you Wayne’s trailer park-famous chicken noodle soup.”

“Don’t wanna be in bed,” he says. “‘S boring.”

“Then how about we camp out on the couch? Make a quick little nest here, I can grab some things from upstairs for you, and you can convalesce on the couch where you can watch movies. Does that work?”

Steve considers it, then nods. “You said you have something for me?”

“Ah,” Eddie says, “yes, right, here-” he holds up a bag. “I, uh, know they’re not super high quality, but… well, I know you get migraines a lot, and sunglasses are supposed to help. Is what I was told.”

Steve sniffles. His eyes look more watery than before. “Eddie,” he says, then doesn’t say anything, just stares at Eddie with big teary eyes. Eddie starts to panic.

“Do you hate them? I can return them! I can- I didn’t spend that much, honest, and maybe it’s a shit courting gift but-”

Steve shakes his head, pulls Eddie into a hug. Scent-marks him. “Thank you,” he whispers.

Eddie relaxes, supports him in the hug best he can. “You’re welcome,” he murmurs. “Now go sit down, baby, I’ll make you some food, okay?”

“M’kay.” Steve sniffles. “Is food gonna be part of courting?”

Eddie chuckles. “I guess it usually is, isn’t it? Do you want it to be part of courting? I had a plan for that, but if you’d rather skim through, we can do that too.”

Steve shakes his head. “I want whatever you’ve got planned.”

Eddie smiles, presses a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “Then maybe this’ll halfway count,” he tells Steve. “Maybe when you’re feeling better I’ll stay the night. Maybe I’ll wake up before you, sneak downstairs, and make a full spread. What do you want? Pancakes? Waffles? French toast? Fuckin’… the little French pancakes?”

Steve giggles. “They’re called crepes.”

“Crepes, then.”

Steve giggles again. “Pancakes maybe?”

“Pancakes I can do.”

“Maybe… maybe we could have blueberry and chocolate chip?”

“Sorry,” Eddie says, “I’ll give you anything in the entire world you could ask for, but blueberry and chocolate chip?” He shakes his head. “Now you’ve gone too far, baby, it’s turning into anarchy, seriously, blueberry and chocolate chip? Alert the media. Call CNN.”

Steve giggles into Eddie’s neck. “So… just blueberry?”

“Baby, I’d invent flavors for you if you said you wanted dragonberry. You want blueberry and chocolate chip? I’ll put both in the same damn cake if you want ‘em.”

Steve giggles again. “No, just separate.”

“I can do separate,” Eddie promises him. “Any other requests?”

Steve peeks out from Eddie’s neck to peer up at him. “Hashbrowns?”

“Oh, baby, now you’re speakin’ my language! Hell yeah we can do hashbrowns!” He grins at Steve’s giggle, then presses another kiss to Steve’s forehead, then one to each of his cheeks for good measure. “Now go sit down,” he tells the omega. “I’ll go grab nest things from upstairs. Anything in particular you want?”

“Robin’s flannel,” he says immediately. “And…” he bites his lip, worries it, shakes his head. “That’s it, I think.”

“Baby,” Eddie murmurs. “Remember how I’d invent flavors for you?”

A giggle. “Yeah?”

“Tell me what you want. Whatever it is, I can get it for you.”

“There’s a black blanket? It’s really soft but it’s kinda near the bottom.”

“I know the one,” Eddie promises. “You want a pillow too?”

Steve shakes his head. “Not while I’ve got you to be my pillow.”

“Always,” Eddie promises, pushing him toward the couch and moving past it up the stairs.

He grabs the things Steve requested, then pauses, pulls his t-shirt off, pulls his undershirt off—a beat-up old faded black tank top— and puts the t-shirt onto a pillow.

He rummages through Steve’s pajama drawer, grabs a t-shirt that boasts something about the whitest beaches, and slips it on.

He makes his ways back downstairs with his bounty, handing over first the blanket, then Robin’s flannel. At Steve’s questioning look, he hands over the last two items. “My t-shirt on a pillow, for while I’m cooking, and my undershirt. It should have more scent on it, even if your nose is too stuffed up to really smell, this one should scent some.”

Steve’s eyes go big and watery again. “Thank you,” he whispers.

Eddie smiles, cups his cheek, presses a long kiss to his forehead. “I think,” he murmurs, “there’s very little I wouldn’t give you already. And I think I’m only a little bit in love with you, compared to how I could be. How I will be.”

Steve nuzzles into Eddie’s hand in response, then leans back and gazes at Eddie with such unabashed love in his eyes that Eddie has to look away, has to head to the kitchen and start cooking, so he can blame the flush in his cheeks on the heat from the stove.

“Baby,” Eddie murmurs in sing-song, peeking into his room. Steve’s awake, if just barely, light dappling over his back, eyes blinking in long, slow sweeps as he fights the siren’s call. He rouses himself a little, sleep-clumsily turns onto his side, humming at Eddie, who walks in with a little coo and kneels at the side of the bed. “Did I wake you?”

Steve hums again, extends a hand to grab at Eddie’s shirt; not to pull, just to hold, to anchor. “Eddie,” he murmurs, which both is and isn’t an answer. “Y’here.”

“I am here,” Eddie agrees, brows furrowing a little. “Have a bad dream, sweetness?”

Steve hums, fists Eddie’s shirt again, tighter. “Not… bad. Jus’… not good.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Eddie murmurs, petting over Steve’s fist. “How can I fix it?”

“Y’are,” Steve tells him, tiredly earnest. “Y’here.”

Eddie’s heart explodes into a million pieces. “I am,” he whispers. “I’ll always be here, if you need me.”

Steve hums, squints at Eddie’s neck, but doesn’t want to let go of Eddie’s shirt.

Eddie does it for him, dragging his hand up first to kiss, then to slide over his scent gland.

“Y’scent different,” Steve mumbles. “More… flowery.”

Eddie chuckles. “I don’t think that’s me, baby.” He holds up a bouquet. “I think it’s your next courting gift.”

Steve smiles blearily at them. “Never gotten flowers before.” He kicks his way out of his blankets, gets tangled for a second and releases a truly, unfairly cute whine before extricating himself, sitting up and balancing on Eddie while his tired brain lags. “You got me flowers,” he whispers, reverent hand coming up to pet along a petal.

“I did,” Eddie agrees giddily.

Steve nudges the flowers aside, falls into Eddie’s chest, nuzzles into his neck. “Thank you.”

Eddie presses a kiss to the crown of Steve’s head, drags a hand over his hair and down his back. “You’re very welcome, baby. How about I put these in water and make you those pancakes? Blueberry and chocolate chip, right?”

Steve nods into his neck. “Wanna go with you.”

“Absolutely you can come with me,” Eddie agrees. “Are you gonna walk or am I gonna carry you?”

Steve’s hands come up to circle his neck even as he says, “I can walk.”

“I know you can,” Eddie murmurs, sliding his hands around Steve’s waist. “But what if I wanna carry you?”

“M’kay,” Steve agrees, pressing a kiss into Eddie’s neck. “You can. If you want to.”

“So generous,” Eddie snickers, and does, carries him down to the kitchen and puts him on the counter, pulls away with a long, sweet kiss to grab the pancake mix.

They’re back in the trailer. Steve’s got the day off and is tackling their room. Eddie’s clothes are still strewn about the place after that harried call to Wayne had him dumping the boxes and bringing them to Loch Nora. Steve’s things are nearly all put away now, but Eddie’s are still all over the place, so that’s what Steve’s working on.

Eddie’s at work, a half day at the shop, so he’ll be home just after lunch.

Steve loses track of time in their room, meaning he’s neck-deep in the closet and still hasn’t had lunch by the time Eddie walks in. “Baby,” he calls, and Steve narrowly misses hitting his head on the door as he sits back.

“Room!” He calls, even though the trailer walls are thin and he can hear Eddie heading that direction already.

Eddie’s smiling as he walks in. “Hey, baby, what’re you doing in here?” He crouches down for a quick kiss and scent mark, accepting the same back.

Steve sighs. “Just trying to organize a little. Get our room back in order.”

“Baby, this is my shit, I’ll do it. C’mon, have you eaten?”

“Getting you to organize is like pulling your toenails out, Eds, I actually like it. I’ll do it. No, I lost track of time, but I can make something real quick if you’re hungry?”

Eddie grins, shakes his head. “Nah, Flo brought something in for the guys, and I snacked between cars. C’mon, baby, lemme take care of you, what do you want to eat?”

Steve hums. “Mac and cheese? Or… do we have any hamburger helper?”

“We should,” Eddie nods. “If not, we definitely have Spam, I can add some of that to some mac?”

Steve nods. “That sounds great. Thanks, Alpha.”

Eddie nuzzles him. “Any time, omega.” He presses a kiss to Steve’s forehead and heads out to the kitchen, and Steve continues cleaning with the background noises of Eddie making him lunch.

Soon enough the noises slow, and not long after Eddie brings him a bowl.

Steve eats while Eddie putters around, putting away a few things, before stilling at the dresser. “Baby?”

“Hm?”

Eddie turns around, joins him on the bed. “So, obviously for courting gifts, the last one, the biggest one, is usually a piece of clothing.”

“Right.”

“And I’ve already given you my vest.” His lips quirk up. “I’d argue I’ve given you my whole closet,” he says, nodding down at Steve’s outfit, which consists entirely of Eddie’s clothes. Steve shrugs, because he knows Eddie loves it. “So I have something else for you, instead. If you want it.”

“Okay.”

Eddie reaches up, unclasps his necklace, and offers it to Steve. “The pick was my mom’s,” he whispers. “The first one I ever used to learn guitar. After she passed, Wayne kept teaching me. For the longest time, I thought of it as a good luck charm. Like if I wore it, the band would have a good show.”

“Then you should keep it.”

Eddie smiles, shakes his head. “The band’s done. We weren’t going anywhere anyways, and especially after the accusations…” he shrugs. “Besides, I have you now. And you’re better than any good luck charm.”

“Flirt,” Steve mutters, but his cheeks are pink as he touches the necklace. “You’re sure?”

“I wouldn’t offer it if I wasn’t, baby.”

Steve smiles, ducks his head. “Okay.” He brings his hand up to touch the pick as Eddie secures the necklace. When Eddie sits back, Steve pulls him in again for a kiss.

“Just for the record,” he murmurs when they pull back, “if we weren’t mated, I would’ve accepted all of your gifts.”

At that, Eddie grins and pulls him into another kiss.

They can always finish cleaning tomorrow.