#and put it on ao3 too

[tadfools]

You guys are commenting on the fics you read right? You’re at least leaving kudos on the Astarion smut and the pairs that have less than 20 fics for them too? You’re bookmarking stories you really like that are still being updated and ones that haven’t been touched in over a year right?

You know that even the smallest interactions are like cocaine to fic writers right? You understand how important a string of emoji hearts left behind on a chapter at three am is right?? Right????

You’re treating AO3 like a community and not a content factory….right?

[spyderschaos]

Fanart for Leap of Faith (Catch Me, If You Can) by @erinwantstowrite !!! I’ve been wanting to draw this scene since that chapter came out and just now got to it lol

[kittykatninja321]

You can talk about what you wished had happened, or what you think should’ve happened, but when it comes to what actually happened, Jason is not the prodigal son, Bruce did not slaughter a fatted calf for his return!

[the-holy-ghosted]

congrats 2 henry peglar for being the only bitch confirmed as to be Fucking That Old Man

[thetrinitytest]

[williamvapespeare]

oops i wrote a Payneland first kiss ft. the aftermath of a probably horrible case, Charles being a little bit hysterical, and Edwin being a gentle little bitch Charles is happy to see him. He really, really is. He’s so chuffed it feels like his whole body is fizzing with energy and his head is pounding with something that might be pain or might be relief. And his grip on Edwin’s shoulders is only half meant to keep himself upright. It’s also because Edwin is properly, actually here in front of him, as solid as anything gets beneath Charles’ fingers these days. 

He doesn’t think he’s stopped grinning since Edwin hauled him upright. 

“Edwin,” he says, and can’t quite piece together anything better than, “you bloody genius!” 

And then Charles surges forward and kisses him. He’s aiming for Edwin’s cheek but he’s a little giddy and his eyesight is still a bit blurry and he ends up with his lips pressed to the corner of Edwin’s mouth. 

He feels more than he sees when Edwin startles at the contact, but doesn’t think he has it in him right now to pull back for a talk or a scolding or, god forbid, a lecture on impetuous behaviour. So, he tightens his hands around Edwin’s shoulders and tugs him in a little ways, until their foreheads are pressed together. Edwin blinks a few times and Charles feels his eyelashes flutter against his own cheek. 

“You did it!”. He can hardly believe the words as he speaks them and he keeps kind of laughing in little bursts of uncontrollable giggles. “I thought I was going to - that you were - I can’t even really -” 

Edwin, who has been relaxing against him by careful degrees, finally jolts into action and brings an arm up around Charles’ shoulders. 

“It’s alright,” he says, which Charles thinks is pretty thick for someone as smart as Edwin because of course he’s alright! Edwin just single-handedly swooped in and saved the day and dredged Charles up from the bottom of a literal and metaphorical hole and now he’s got his arm around Charles, close enough that each of his unnecessary breaths stirs the curls around Charles’ ear. He’s a lot fucking more than alright. 

Edwin’s hand starts to rub little circles between his shoulder blades. It feels nice.

“Mate,” he tries again. “You are…” but he doesn’t quite know what Edwin is other than the most important person in the world and, anyway, he can’t finish the sentence because Edwin cuts him off in a tone that Charles still thinks is far too serious for the situation. 

“Charles, you seem a touch, well.” A slight pause. “For lack of a better word, hysterical.” 

Is he hysterical? Charles doesn’t think so, but then again he’s never been great at thinking things through properly at the best of times. 

“Also, I must ask.” Charles’s eyes are only centimeters away from Edwin’s, and he watches Edwin squeeze his close. Eyelashes flutter together. “Did you mean to kiss me?”  

Charles blinks once.

“Uh,” he says. “Yeah, mate.” 

The hand on his back tightens, fingers gripping the fabric of his polo and that feels pretty good too, like Edwin is clinging to him with all the same desperation swirling up inside Charles. Like maybe he’s something solid even when he feels as insubstantial as ghosts can get. 

“Well,” Edwin says, finally, with a posh little sniff like he’s right fucking pleased with himself. “That is good to know.” 

Charles collapses against him, eventually, when he finally starts breathing steadier and the heavy weight of exhaustion settles over his shoulders. When the giddy adrenaline leaves him feeling a little more cracked open than he’d like. Edwin just gathers him close with the same possessive gesture as his hand. 

There’s a soft brush of lips against his temple. He smiles into the collar of Edwin’s coat and lets himself drift, warm and soft and held together

[heleizition]

this is my naruto oc age 12 and age like 15 lmao she goes through it

[bunnyreaper]

welcome to the 141

kinktober 3 - bukkake, hate sex

price + ghost x reader

(18+/mdni, noncon, misogyny, no but seriously... misogyny, degradation)

Real men belong in the 141, real women belong on their knees.

That's what your arsehole friend had joked when you told him about your intention to transfer, but you were determined to prove him and everyone else wrong. You'd gotten this far, and you could make it just that little bit further. 

You sit in the gym, anxiously waiting for Captain Price and Lieutenant Riley to arrive and begin a physical assessment with you—their reputations precede them, and you want nothing more than to impress them, so they have no choice but to accept you into the task force. 

The squeak of the door pulls you out of your thoughts, redirecting your attention to the two behemoth men who have just walked through the door—all bulging muscles barely contained in tight-fitting compression shirts. The way you rise to your feet is sheer instinct, as you rush into a greeting that is swiftly cut off. 

Captain Price walks with a swagger, and stops at the side of the mat in the middle—he beckons you forward wordlessly, as Ghost steps forward to meet you in the middle of the mat. 

"So you're the girl that wants to try out for the 141?" The captain asks, and you internally bristle at his use of such a diminutive word, but you decide to push down your protests as you decide to ignore it.

You nod eagerly. "That's me, captain." 

He smirks, his face twisting with sick amusement as he crosses his arms over his chest and his eyes crawl over your body. "It's not going to be easy, last chance to back out."

The taunt only makes you more determined. "Thanks, but no thanks." 

He and the Lieutenant share a look, one you can't really perceive the meaning of, but you know whatever comes next is going to be the biggest challenge of your career. 

"We'll start with a sparring session, you can show the Lieutenant what you're made of." 

You nod obediently, turning to Ghost as the two of you start to square up and prepare to spar. He doesn't say a word, and neither do you, as you quietly appraise him and figure out how to use his massive stature against him. 

The tension is thick, each second crawling by as you breathe in and hyperfocus before making your first move. 

You barely get a grip on him before he's slamming you into the mat, limbs pinning you down with ease as you fight to suck down your breaths. "Fuck."

"Impressive." He mutters, tone completely dry. 

The whole situation makes your temper flare, as you can feel them already underestimating you, can practically taste their misogynistic attitudes in the air. You struggle against Ghost's hold, still unable to grapple free. "Let me go again, I wasn't ready." You rush out an excuse, yet you're determined to not let him get the better of you a second time. 

The Captain's voice cuts in, heavy with judgement and condescension. "You think out in the field they'll be waiting for you to be ready, soldier?" He scoffs and shakes his head. "Dumber than I thought, clearly." 

Each word stokes the fire inside you, makes you more and more desperate to prove yourself. Your chest heaves as your anger and determination escalate. "Just let me try again, please." 

Ghost looks to his Captain, who nods in approval before Ghost moves away and allows you to climb to your feet once more. 

Again, you both prepare, staring each other down. This time, you know a little of his tactics, of his plan to rush you and overwhelm you with his bulk, and your mind switches to executing more evasive maneuvers. 

You wait patiently for Ghost to make the first move, which you dodge with ease, you just make it out of his reach when he's rushing for you again, anticipating your dodge and sending you flying into the mat once more. 

You're not sure what burns more between the pain in your back and the humiliation you feel, but Ghost is on top of you, pinning you again. His hands are on your wrists as his hips are pushed into your core, and you can feel that the bastard is fucking hard. No amount of thrashing throws him off of you.

"Same result. Stop struggling." He growls, voice deep and menacing and impatient, as he grinds down and keeps you firmly in place.

"See this is the thing about little girls like you." Each word is snarled, sheer aggression unfolding from behind the mask. "You think you can make it a man's world, in the army, but you can't." 

"I can, women can." You whimper, voice frayed with pain as the lieutenant's grip tightens. 

You hear the dull thud of the Captain's footsteps as he moves into your line of sight and stares down at you.

"Go on then, break free." He commands, watching as you squirm fruitlessly, and a predatory smile crosses his face. "Pathetic, darling."

Price gives Ghost another look, as he frees you once more, and you stumble to your feet red-faced and mortified. 

"Captain—" You're about to challenge him, about to call him out on all of this sexist bullshit when his hands come to your shoulders, forcing you to your knees once more. 

"You can tell me all your precious feminist thoughts while you're down on your knees." He scoffs, working on unbuckling his belt right before your shocked face. 

Ghost does the same, belt clinking as the two men work to free their erections—you try to stand, but their hands keep you pinned before them, kneeling and waiting. 

"I'm not gonna do whatever you think you're asking!" You squeal as their thick cocks bounce free and taunt you with their appearance. 

"I'm not asking, I'm telling you to put that mouth to use instead of opening it for your pointless protests." The Captain begins, his hand working over his length slowly."  "You want in the 141? Know your place, on your knees and serving your superior officers, as a woman should."

Ghost does the same, gloved hand working his length dangerously close to your face. "That look in your eyes tells me everything we need to know. Strong, independent woman until you see a nice hard cock." 

"That's not true, I—" You open your mouth to protest, but find it stuffed full of the Captain's dick—his salty precum coating your tongue as he works his way inside. 

You suck on instinct, and of a creeping sense of fear of what will happen if you don't. They've gone this far, maybe it's just hazing, maybe this is how you— 

The Captain takes hold of your ponytail, pulling you up and down his length leisurely. "Much better, good girl."

The words make you flush against your will, your body betraying your usually headstrong self. 

He thrusts his cock as deep as you can take it without gagging, stilling there for a moment. "I'll break you in properly before long. Keep you under my desk, yeah, love?" 

The noise of rejection you make with your mouth full sounds awfully like approval to the men's ears. 

Ghost reaches down to grab your hand, wrapping your smaller fingers around his cock as you continue to suck the captain, while he taunts you. "This is your natural state, brain off, mouth full of dick. You don't have to pretend to be strong with us, it's better for all of us this way."

Price groans, deep and chesty in a way that makes your body sing against your will. "Always in need of some stress relief after a mission, you'd be perfect." He sighs, continuing to guide you up and down him. 

He pulls you off of him, guiding your head towards Ghost's length so you can swallow him instead. Ghost's hands hold either side of your head, working his cock inside before he thrusts with reckless abandon. "Fuck. If you weren't made to suck then why are you so fucking good at it, huh?" He all but growls, continuing to use your face as nothing more than a little fuckhole.  

He's rougher than Price, moves you faster up and down his cock, and forces himself deeper into your throat, your gagging sounds filling the room. "That's what I like to hear." 

"What do you think, Ghost?" The captain asks. 

"Need to make sure she knows her place." Ghost snarls, pulling you off of him harshly before forcing your head down to the floor, down to his boot. "Kiss it, then you can hump it like the desperate little slut you are."

"I'm not—" You whine, but he's tilting up his but to meet your mouth, so you can start to worship the leather. 

Tears prickle at your eyes as you lick and kiss his boot, desperately hoping the act will please him.

"You're a cunt, you're just a set of needy holes." He pulls you back up by the chin, repositioning you so your clit is pressed against his foot, and you start grinding down on instinct. 

"You deny it love, but look at the way you move those hips, it just comes naturally to you." Price laughs, his eyes blown with arousal. 

You hate it—hate what they're doing and what they've reduced you to, but at the same time you're so fucking needy, and Ghost is at least giving you some semblance of relief. 

"Grinding on my boot like a pathetic little doll. Don't make a mess, or you'll be cleaning it with your mouth." 

You want to cry out and rebuke them, but as your mouth opens, nothing comes out. 

"Shhh." Price coos, bringing up your hands to each of the man's dicks. "Just focus on us, darling." 

Your doe eyes stare at them desperately, as you do the only thing you can, jerk their cocks with fervor and chase the shocks of pleasure you get from rubbing against Ghost. You're so lost, so reduced, and yet unable to stop.

The volume of both men's groans increases, as they urge you into stroking faster and faster—it isn't long before they're both crashing toward the edge. 

"Paint her face, Simon." Price commands his Lieutenant, who takes hold of his cock and rubs until he's spilling fresh, sticky cum all over your face—in your lashes, on your lips and cheeks, even a little in your hair. 

The sight is enough to send Price over the edge too, his ropes joining Ghost's as they both cover your face entirely in rope after rope of cum.

"New fucking uniform for you." Ghost chuckles, slightly breathless, as he milks his cock for any remaining drops to stain your face with.

"Look at that." The look in Price's eyes is almost sweet, as he tilts up your chin to inspect your painted face. "Good job. Welcome to the 141, princess."

[chacerider]

(he can't even play guitar he just wanted to look cool 🎶)

[redwinterroses]

There’s a cherry tree in the middle of the redwood forest.

False isn’t sure what to make of that. She shifts her grip on the staff in her hand, its pale glow reflecting faintly off the fresh snow. She’s come out here for resources—the vault altar is demanding logs, and these giant trees are an easy source—but the incongruous sight of an enormous, blossoming cherry tree sending pink petals wafting on the frozen wind…

She wonders if this is what fish feel like, when they see a lure.

“Hello?” she calls, her voice echoing off the trees. The world stands in permanent semi-twilight here, and the deeper shadows hide the mobs that will venture out come nightfall. A sneak of creepers is bedded down in a sweetberry bramble just on the other side of the clearing, and False tenses when the lead boar lifts his head, but he apparently doesn’t deem her worth stalking so early in the day. 

There is no other reaction to her call.

False is of half a mind just to head back home and farm her own dang trees. It’s not like the vaultar is picky about the kinds of logs—she could just as easily grow up a bunch of birch and throw those in there. But that will take so much longer… not to mention she’s not sure if there are even enough saplings in her storage.

She unhooks her enchantment-glittered axe from her belt and pauses to mentally poke at her mana reserves. Plenty high. Whatever’s lingering near this tree, it can hardly be worse than what she deals with on the daily in the vaults. Overworld dangers are barely a challenge anymore.

The logic of that doesn’t change the uneasy feeling that buzzes over her skin though. 

Venturing further into the clearing. False’s gaze traces up the trunk of the cherry tree, following its branches to where they terminate in lush bursts of pink and white blooms. A sweet smell drifts on the wind. She wrinkles her nose, reminded of compost piles and fermented spiders’ eyes. 

The tree’s branches stretch long and low—a canopy of their own, heavy with flowers and dark, glossy leaves. The space underneath is filled with falling flowers and a fog of pollen, the air moisture-thick like a lush cave.

Lifting one hand, False catches a falling petal on her fingertip.

It sizzles as it touches her skin, stinging and buzzing like live redstone.

She hisses through her teeth, shaking her hand and letting the petal fall to the forest floor. “What the heck?”

Another petal tumbles past her face, and she watches it with narrowed eyes—right until it fizzles out of existence a few pixels above the forest floor.

“Glitch,” she mutters. “That’s… not good.”

Iskall needs to know about this—it could be a bug from one of the new updates, or it could be something deeper in the code, but either way: this glitched tree is a problem. She’s probably lucky it just stung her.

She reaches for her communicator, raising it to take a pic of the cherry tree.

“Oh, hi there, False!”

False yelps, spinning around with her axe ready to swing.

Gem is standing behind her, a wreath of cherry blossoms tangled in her hair and antlers, leaning casually on a tall staff of blooming cherry wood. Her smile is wide, and sap flows over her fingers, pale golden, dripping down her arms to leave dark spots on the faded denim of her overalls.

“Gem!” False lowers her axe. “Oh my gosh, you scared me. I didn’t know you were doing Vault Hunters.”

“Hm?” Gem raises one eyebrow, and for a moment her eyes flicker to red and then purple before settling back on green. “Oh—I’m not doing Vault Hunters, False.” Her voice is amused, almost chiding.

“Oh.” False feels unexpectedly small—which is impressive, considering she’s nearly half a block taller than Gem. 

More of the glitched petals fall, resting on Gem’s hair and slowly melting into it like snowflakes. The brief moment of relief when False had seen Gem’s familiar grin is fading into something like the sensation of freefall. 

“What’cha up to?” Gem asks, and her face blinks from one expression to the next like a bad video message. Her clothes are blue—no, green—no, bloodstained and grey—no, blue. They’ve always been blue.

False takes a step back.

“Uh, not much…” she glances up at the redwoods. “Just doing some… resource gathering. You know.”

“Cool!” Gem giggles, and stands up straight. False tenses, but Gem only spins around her staff and waves a hand at the glitched tree. “I didn’t realize this was an occupied server—are there many people here?”

There’s a buzzing in False’s skull, and she blinks rapidly. A muscle twitches under her eye. 

“Um…”

“I guess it doesn’t really matter.” Gem lifts one hand and grabs one of the lowest branches of the cherry tree. She really should not have been able to reach that.

Swinging herself up with the lithe, effortless strength of a cat, she perches on the limb and stares down at False. The grin is gone from her face now, and she looks down at False with bright eyes.

“Etho’s not here, is he?”

False opens her mouth to answer, the words yes, of course he is, I can take you to him heavy on her lips… And with effort, she swallows them back. 

They taste of sweet rot.

“Why... why doesn’t what matter?” she asks instead.

Gem stares at her for a long moment, expressionless. The flowers woven through her antlers are growing of their own accord, twining up to caress their brethren in the branches overhead. 

Then she smiles broadly, flashing teeth that nearly glow white in the dappled shadows. “Oh!” she exclaims. “No reason! I’m only passing through, is all.”

“You’re not… you’re not sticking around?” False tries—and mostly fails—to sound disappointed.

“Naaaaah…” Gem stands and walks along the branch, as secure and balanced as if it were a stone floor. The flowers in her hair flow along behind her, sliding from the branches and falling like a cape down her back. “Worldhopping is easy. Staying in one spot is way harder.” 

False watches the flowers move and swirl, their smooth, strange motion ensnaring her attention. The buzzing is back, too. Like bees, drunk on honey and sleepy in their hive.

“World hopping…?” she manages. “With admin commands?”

Gem’s laugh is as brilliant as a knife and as sharp as a spark. “False!” she crows. “You say the funniest things.”

False laughs. It seems appropriate. She isn’t sure why.

“Anyway,” Gem continues, fading into one patch of blossoms and reappearing on the other side of it. Her eyes are sprays of cherry flowers now. Her antlers are branches. “Anyway, cherry trees are all the same. They make it easy to get around.”

“That…” doesn’t make sense, False wants to say. But her lips are heavy, and coated in sticky sap. Maybe it doesn’t really matter.

“Oops! Behind you, False!” 

Gem’s chirped warning is flaked in glee, and False turns around, as slow as if her feet are buried in soul sand.

The creepers she had seen—the entire sneak—are standing behind her, pink flowers blooming from their eyes. 

“Oh no.”

The boar’s blinded head snaps toward her voice, hissing. He starts to aggro, bioluminescent streaks flashing from his snout to flanks in increasingly-swift pulses of light.

“See ya in season ten, False!” Gem cries out cheerfully.

The axe drops from False’s nerveless fingers, trailing strings of sap. She smells the inescapable stench of burning gunpowder, overlaid with rot.

“...Dangit.”

[FalseSymmetry was blown up by a creeper]

~*~

Jerking upright in her own bed, False swipes wildly at her face, trying to smear away tree sap that isn’t there. 

“What the heck, Gem?” she exclaims at her empty base. Her voice falls flat, swallowed up by the sky that surrounds her builds. The clock above her head ticks impatiently, and she huffs in frustration, pushing up out of her bed. All her tools, gone—her levels, gone... and after all that she still needs those logs for the vault. 

Grumbling, she starts pulling backup gear from various chests, trying to cobble together something that can get her back to the redwood grove before her items despawn—assuming they hadn’t all been obliterated by a second or third creeper explosion. She glances at the vaulter, and freezes.

It’s been completed. The crystal floats gently atop the stone pedestal, gleaming with an inner light. 

And, tumbled at the base of the vaulter—abandoned, more than was needed to fill the crystal’s requirements:

Half a stack of cherry logs.

[ao3screenshotss]

(he just wants a responsible adult so he can stop having to take care of all these demigods)

[sundropcass]

my favorite part of reading just lovers for the first time is getting to what you’d think is the fic’s climax only to realize you’re not even halfway done

[childrenofcain-if]

I don't know if NSFW questions are allowed since I didn't see anything indicated related to it 😅 how would C go about their first time ? Would it be something that you'd be writing in the story ?? I'd like to think my MC would be very smug about being their first but also being gentle at the same time

👀 (slightly spicy spoilers under the cut)

you stood by the door of their dormitory, your presence a steadying force, though you made no move to approach yet. you simply watched C, your eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and something softer, more tender. it was this gaze, this quiet, unyielding attention, that made C’s heart twist in a way that was both unfamiliar and unwelcome.

for all their control, all their careful planning, C had never accounted for this—for the way you could unravel them with a single look.

“you’re not nervous, are you?” your voice was low, the words almost getting lost in the silence that hung between you two.

C’s gaze flickered to you, and for a moment, they were caught, ensnared by the softness in your eyes, the warmth that seemed to radiate from you like the first rays of sunshine on snowy days. but it was too much, too close, too real. they looked away, back to the window, where the night was safe and familiar in its darkness.

“no,” they said, though the word felt heavy on their tongue, like a lie too big to swallow.

you didn’t press, didn’t push. you simply crossed the room in slow, measured steps, each footfall muffled by the plush carpet. when you reached C, you knelt down in front of them, your hands resting lightly on their knees. it was a simple touch, but it seemed to send a voltage of electricity up C’s spine.

“C,” you said, your voice close to a whisper, “we don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.”

there it was again—an out, a chance to retreat, to pull back into the safety of their cold but comfortable world. but as C turned their pale green gaze at you, at the way your hands seemed to brand your name against their skin, at the way your eyes held nothing but understanding, something in them shifted. it was a small shift, barely perceptible, but it was there, a crack in the armor they had worn for so long.

“i want to,” C said, and this time, the words came out more firmly, with a conviction that even surprised them. the decision was made, as clear and irrevocable as the snow falling on the campus.

your smile was soft, almost indulgent, as if you understood C without them saying everything.

“then let’s take our time,” you said, your fingers brushing against C’s as you slowly stood, pulling them up with you.

time—C had always measured it in increments of achievement, in deadlines and quotas, in their relentless pursuit of perfection. but here, in this dimly lit dorm room, time seemed to stretch and bend, to twist into something malleable, something that could be savored like an exotic fruit rather than conquered like an empire.

your hand was still in theirs, a steadying anchor as you led C toward the bed, each step a deliberate act of trust, of surrender. the bed itself, once just a place of solitude and rest, now seemed new, unfamiliar. C’s heart pounded in their chest, their breath catching in their throat as they sat down, the mattress sinking slightly under their weight.

you were beside them now, close enough that C could feel the warmth of your body, close enough that your lavender scent filled the air between you and made them dizzy. you leaned in, full lips brushing against C’s in a kiss that was so gentle, so tentative, that it felt like a question.

and for once, C had no answer, no carefully crafted response. they simply kissed back, letting the world fall away, letting the prideful, nagging part of their mind go silent for the first time in as long as they could remember.

[stellewriites]

A Helping Hand

throwing my hat in for @the-californicationist’s nameless challenge!

600+ words, sfw, gn!reader, no content warnings it’s all fluff. don’t forget to guess who you think it’s about 🤭

you first met in uni.

it was a couple of weeks in, so you were settled into your classes and confident with the subject matter so far. you’d made friends with your roommates and had checked out the area of the new city you were in. it was all going well.

your current class was in a lecture hall, though the discussion was nothing too important; just going over the reading syllabus for the year. they’d already emailed it out during the summer so you pretended to take notes on your laptop while pulling up wordle.

one of your new roommates had gotten you addicted, it had become a light-hearted competition between you both as you got to know each other before finally meeting in person. they’d finally upped the stakes at the start of the week with a bet and you were determined to beat their average by friday - after all, loser would be paying for drinks on saturday when you all went out.

this day’s puzzle, however, was stumping you. you didn’t want to just guess aimlessly, visions of free drinks seeming ever further away, but you just couldn’t figure out the word either.

F_ _ _R

you stared at the screen unblinkingly, thoroughly distracted from your course and the discussion around you until a hand holding a slip of paper appeared at your shoulder in your peripheral.

you took it hesitantly without looking back and unfolded it. you stared at the word written scratchily across it in disbelief.

FOYER.

fuck. how’d you miss that?

you typed it in and heard a satisfied chuckle behind you when it was correct and pursed your lips to hide your own smile. you figured you should thank the guy at least, he might’ve just won you free drinks after all.

you flicked your eyes up and found the professor busy facing the board and took the chance to swivel in your seat to look up at the one above yours and the handsome man that currently claimed it.

“thanks,” you whispered, your smile turning flirtatious and less guarded when you met his pretty eyes.

“don’t mention it,” he said with an easy shrug, his voice warm.

“oh? you don’t want a favour in return then?” you asked, coy. “you might’ve just won me a bet with a friend, so i owe you.”

his shoulders shook as he huffed. you realised it was a laugh, just muffled behind a surprisingly fond smile aimed your way and a want to keep quiet in the lecture hall. he was clearly charmed by you - and likely the view he had down your shirt as you leant forward against the back of your seat, equally enamoured.

“i could maybe think of some way you could thank me,” he acquiesced, smile turning sly. “better concentrate on the front of the class for now though.” he nodded forward.

with a look over your shoulder you noticed the unimpressed look your professor was sending you both. you sent them a contrite look as you sat back properly and stayed quiet for the rest of the lecture, not wanting to cause a fuss and make a name for yourself too early in the year. you did like this subject after all.

you just liked handsome, helpful men too.

you bit your lip in an attempt at calming your smile and the excited noise that bubbled at the back of your throat when you got a second note passed over your shoulder by a now-familiar hand not ten minutes later. you kept your eyes facing forwards as you took it, wanting to play it cool.

that went out the window however when you opened the note and felt giddiness override it.

coffee after this? it read, followed by his name and number.

absolutely, you thought.

[the-woman-upstairs]

Glen Powell is not working his ass off to bring romantic tension and visible yearning back to movies only for his kissing scenes to be left on the cutting room floor!

[afewproblems]

I dunno if ur still doing prompts buuuuuttttt 87?? If u haven't done it yet?

87. "Hey! I was gonna eat that!"

Please enjoy my friend, this one was a lot of fun to write!!

“Hey! I was gonna eat that!” Robin yells as she walks back into the living room to find Eddie sitting with Steve on the couch with a brownie in his hands. 

The plate it had been sitting on is empty except for several crumbs and a sliver of chocolate icing, the glass of milk on the coffee table is also empty, just to add insult to injury. 

Steve rolls his eyes and flips the page of the magazine in his hands, he would be pulling off the appearance of ignoring Eddie and Robin except for the way his eyes jump to the pair of them and the ever present smile on his face that grows whenever one of them says something particularly snarky.

“Wow, that’s really weird,” Eddie says as he hastily stuffs the last half of the brownie into his mouth to avoid Robin’s grabby hands, “because I think it's almost gone,” he laughs as much as one can with a mouthful of chocolate.

Robin wrinkles her nose at the sight and sucks her teeth as Steve lifts the magazine slightly higher this time to block them from his line of sight.

“You wanna share the last bite,” Eddie says with a sly grin as he sticks his chocolate covered tongue out at Robin, who squawks in outrage.

“You’re disgusting, Steve, how could you let him take my brownie?”

Steve sighs from behind the magazine, “I’m not involved--”

“You damn well are!” Robin growls, crossing her arms over the large front pocket of the overalls she’s wearing, “you involved yourself the minute you let him take it while I was in the bathroom!”

Steve groans and drops his head to the back of the couch, “Robin, there is a whole pan full of brownies in the kitchen,” he finally puts down the magazine in defeat, “just get another one”.

Eddie leans back against the couch as well, putting his hands behind his head in triumph and lifting his feet to sit on the coffee table as he shoots Robin a wink.

“You don’t care that he’s picking on me, you’re supposed to be my best friend!” Robin pouts as she walks forward and sits cross legged beside the table, shoving Eddie’s feet away from her. 

Eddie waggles his eyebrows at her as he slides down the couch, now leaning heavily against Steve’s shoulder. He tips his head back to look at Steve with a wide grin, “I guess that means I’m the real favorite here, eh Buckley?” 

Steve rolls his eyes and stills for a brief moment as a wide grin suddenly takes over his face. 

He looks at Robin, then back to Eddie, and without hesitation leans down to cup Eddie’s cheek before planting a kiss on his slightly parted lips. 

Robin feels her jaw drop as Eddie freezes, his eyes the widest that she’s ever seen them as Steve pulls back briefly to place another soft kiss on Eddie’s lips and the tip of his nose. 

He sits for a moment longer, holding Eddie’s face before he stands up with a snort.

Eddie sits there, frozen in the same leaned back position before slumping down onto the couch cushions Steve just left.

“Thanks for sharing,” Steve hums as he swipes his thumb over his bottom lip and sucks the tip of it into his mouth, “I just assumed the earlier offer was still on the table”.

Steve smiles broadly at the choking sound Eddie makes and the bright red flush that slowly climbs up his neck, rising into his cheeks. 

Robin stares, completely speechless, this was not at all how she saw their morning going and by the looks of things, neither did Eddie. 

“I’ll grab you another one Bobs,” Steve hums pleasantly as he brushes past her, making his way into the kitchen.

“Oh, and I don’t play favorites, I love you both equally,” he pauses at the door, lifting his gaze up to a point on the ceiling as he considers the words for a moment, “but maybe just a bit differently”.

He shoots them both a wide grin and disappears into the hallway. 

Neither Robin or Eddie move for a moment, too shocked to even breath as they listen to Steve hum to himself in the other room, the clinking of plates punctuating his little song.

“Boy, he’s a smooth motherfucker when he wants to be isn’t he?” Robin mutters under her breath as Eddie practically melts into the floor.