#i think the lines are crooked but they're good enough

[wretchedbirdthing]

welp.......

The results of the girlbirdthing percentage poll are in! Thank you everyone who voted.

Wow! 105 votes, so many... that's too many..

Here's the ternary phase diagram as promised!

The results are a little surprising to me. I thought bird would be the highest percentage but thing clears it by almost 10%! I expected around that much girl though.

Thanks again Rose for the idea and everyone who was supportive !

[daddyfordaeddy]

Pairing: Businessman! San x wife! Reader

Word Count: 1887

Warnings: cursing, none otherwise (smut warnings under cut)

Genre: smut, fluff, rated M for mature, established relationship au, office au

Summary: After delivering lunch to your husband's office, the two of you get a little sidetracked.

Smut warnings: fingering, oral (male & female receiving), unprotected sex (wrap before tap guys🔫), wall/window sex, dirty talk, some degradation (whore, slut, being desparate), felch...ing (i think that's the right term?), cum play, semi-public sex (or its public...they're in san's private office during work hours), some petnames (silly girl because i discovered i have a new kink)

I'm only doing a couple of the February Filth Fest, and this is day/track 21! aphrodisiacs/overstimulation, and i chose the latter! i hope you don't mind how questionable this is lol i wrote it practically in a day

And if you want to know what other days I'm doing? You'll just have to wait and see ;)

-

“San, I brought you lunch,” you call as you open the door to your husband’s office. “Are you busy?”

Your husband, sharp as ever in a tailored Brioni suit, turns to greet you with his million-watt smile as he opens his arms to wrap you in a hug. You eagerly close the door behind you and set down the bag of food as you embrace him, giggling as he lifts you up to spin you around and press his face into the crook of your neck.

“I’m never too busy for you, love,” San hums. “Will you join me for lunch?”

You nod, leaning over to open up the bag. “I brought pork belly soup and rice with some kimchi. I did buy you coffee but I drank it on the way up.” San snorts, slapping your butt gently in retaliation and you giggle. You turn to swat his hands away when you drop a fork. “Ah, shit.”

You bend down, reaching out for the fork, when hands grab your hips and pull you towards him until your ass bumps against San’s hips. “Oh–” you squeak, twisting around in San’s grip to stare wide-eyed at his now-darkened gaze. The two of you have plenty of sex at home, but you’ve never seen such a quick response to you doing a simple motion such as bending down. “San?”

“I hope you’re not too hungry, (Y/N),” San sighs, his hands wandering up your hips to wrap around your waist and tug you impossibly closer, fingers dipping into the waistband of your skirt. “I don’t think I can let you look this good without ravishing you.”

“I– but your desk is so clean,” you fret, glancing at the neat papers all lined up. “I don’t want to mess that up.”

San hums, looking you up and down. And in one swift motion, he grasps your thighs and hoists you up, setting you against his crotch. You gasp and grab at his back, grabbing onto the suit jacket and hooking your legs against him. “San!”

San grins wolfishly at you, adjusting his grip as he carries you over to the window wall overlooking the city. “Come on baby, let me love you like you deserve. It's a one-way glass, but honestly, everyone deserves to see how beautiful you are for me.” As he speaks, he presses your back against the cool glass and you whine a little as the shirt you’re wearing has an open back.

San fumbles with his pants before finally pulling out his already hard cock and pressing it against your panties, letting it rub against the soft fabric. “San” you moan, already gushing slick and soaking your underwear “you’re going to get tired.” You’re protesting half-heartedly, excited to see where this is going. San rarely is this risky with you, and you’re almost ashamed to admit it’s turning you on.

“Silly girl,” he groans, leaning forward until his nose is just barely brushing against yours. “For you, I couldn’t get enough of this. Just as long as I am near you, that’s all I need.” He punctuates his sentence with a long kiss to your lips and you groan into the kiss.

Without you even noticing, his hand pushes aside your ruined panties and he presses into your tight heat with a loud groan. “So tight for me,” he groans into your mouth, biting and tugging at your lower lip as his hips slowly thrust deeper and deeper into you. He’s burning hot inside of you, and you whine at the feeling, pressing your lips to his in a feverish kiss.

“Shit,” you whine as he finally bottoms out, your ass flush against his hips as he grinds into you. “You’re so fucking big, San.” Your nails are digging into his back, the pain making San groan and his cock twitch inside of you.

He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, biting, nipping, and licking at your skin as his hips work himself into you. When his teeth sink fully into the junction of your shoulder you can hardly hold back a scream of pleasure. “San, please,” you’re already begging and it’s only been a few minutes. But the way he’s stretching you out so deliciously makes you lose your mind. You clench around him, shifting in his hold just to try and work him into you the way you like it.

“Fuck, look at you, (Y/N). Already desperate for my cock,” San growls into your ear, pressing you even more into the glass window. “Do you off to it? The idea that people could look up and see just how much of a whore you are for me?”

With every word, he thrusts up into you and you’re a little embarrassed at how quickly you come, arching your back and letting your head rest against the cool glass as ecstasy washes over you in waves.

“Already so done?” San smirks, carrying you back to his desk and sitting at the chair, you still in his lap and his hard cock still spearing deep inside you, making you whine. “Such a mess for me, God, you’re so perfect for me.”

Your lips press against his feverishly as you moan into his mouth, letting your tongue flick out against his lips. “So full,” you mutter against his mouth. “Fuck– you’re splitting me open so well, Sannie.” You wriggle your hips down, squeezing around him and he comes with a broken moan. The cum inside of you is searing hot but you can’t get enough of it, grinding down onto him to try and milk the last bit out of him.

To your surprise, his erection has not gone down a bit, and San’s lips pull into a crooked smile as his eyes narrow. “I hope you know you’re not done quite yet. Only one orgasm? That’s just sad.” His hips kick up a bit as he speaks, and you moan from the overwhelming feeling. It’s almost painful, but that’s what you’re obsessed with.

But before either of you can continue, a knock sounds at the door and San quickly lifts you off his dick and you slide to the floor under the desk. “Come in,” San calls out, voice a little rough, and he clears his throat. His pants are still unzipped and his hard cock is just waiting for you.

Your eyes flick up to him and he’s not focusing on you, so you reach out and brush against the glistening head of his dick. His hand almost immediately comes down to drip at your hair and you can’t hold back a smirk before dipping your head down to kiss his dick. YOu can hear San choking on his words and his hands tighten but something overcomes you and you only sink deeper onto his dick.

The heavy weight resting on your tongue makes it hard for you to contain your noises and you press your tongue to the underside of his cock. San’s trying his best to stay collected as he talks business and meetings, but you can feel his dick twitch every time you swallow around him and something about it drives you crazy.

Without warning, San pushes your head down on his dick even further and your hands grip his thighs as your eyes roll back in your head. It’s only now you realise his cum inside you is slowly dripping out alongside his arousal. Your mind is swirling with so many thoughts that when his cock hits the back of your throat and his grip tightens even more, your eyes widen before ropes of cum shoot down your throat and you come in your panties with a quiet moan.

“What was that?”

Your eyes snap open at the question and San’s voice is tight as he tries to evade suspicion. “Ah– I think the aircon is messed up. I’ll have to- ah, talk to maintenance about that. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to finish my lunch.”

The employee apologises and leaves. As soon as the door clicks, San pushes back, letting his cock fall out of his mouth and he raises a single eyebrow at you. “Just couldn’t get enough, huh?” he sneers, although his eyes are raking over your body. “Come here.”

You stand with wobbly legs before making your way over to him. “I–” You don’t even get a chance to say anything when he grabs your waist and spins you around, before pushing you down onto his desk. “San!” you scold as he flips your skirt up to reveal your ass.

“Fuck, look at you,” he growls, his hand coming to cup your clothed cunt. “Soaking right through your underwear like the slut you are. Sucking my dick in front of my secretary? What, did you want him to join us?”

“No,” you whine, “I just wanted you.”

San chuckles, low in his throat, before pulling your underwear down in one motion. Your sopping cunt stares him right in the eye, and if you look down, you can see strings of your slick and his cum connecting the fabric to your pussy. And before you can blink, San’s mouth attaches itself to your pussy. “Ah–” you gasp and squeeze your eyes shut. You’re so sensitive from your previous two orgasms, you don’t know if you can take another one. But San’s not stopping, licking greedily into you like he’s never eaten a meal before in his life.

“You taste so good,” he groans, vibrations making you moan as your legs shake from the overstimulation. The only reason you haven’t fallen to the ground yet is San’s hands holding you up. His tongue presses into your folds and one of his hands lifts from your ass. You’re about to complain when a harsh pain shoots through you and you whimper as he spanks you again for good measure.

“San!” You gasp again, looking back to see San meeting your eyes with a wicked grin as he bites at your thigh. “Fuck–”

“Come for me, silly girl,” San rumbles again and you close your eyes as you let your body weight drop, San’s grip still on your waist as he mouths at your pussy just as desperately as he was teasing you about. You’re pretty sure your underwear is ruined now, but that hardly seems important with San pushing his come and your release back into you with his tongue.

“Shit, ah, too much, Sannie,” you whine, feeling finally coming back to your legs although they still feel a bit like jelly. “Come on, you still gotta eat lunch, you big idiot.”

With a sigh, San stands, helping you up as well. His mouth and chin are shining and you laugh to yourself as you pull him to you so you can kiss him. The taste of both you and him as you sighing. “I’ll see you at home,” San hums, his voice dazed as if he just went to another dimension and back.

“Mmh, yup. It’ll be a pot roast tonight. Don’t stay out too late and,” you cast a glance at his untouched lunch, “you’ll probably have to reheat that.”

San chuckles, wiping his chin with his hand and licking off the last bits of come. “Yeah, yeah. I love you, baby.”

“Love you too.”

-

@cultofdionysusnet

[luveline]

HII BABE can i request miguel x spidergirl!reader where reader shows miguel how to do her skin routine before bed in a shared apartment?

Miguel tongues at the inside of his cheek. “You can't be serious,” he says eventually. 

You smile at him, hope in your eyes. “It'll look cute. You'll love it.” 

Miguel considers what you're saying. You shift from one foot to the other, your fuzzy socks bumping his with every step. 

He scratches a little crystal of missed toothpaste from your bottom lip. You wait patiently, and it's that patience that melts the last of his reluctance. 

“Fine,” he says, dropping his arm back to his side. 

You beam and bring your hands up to his hair, raking it back from his face, a headband slipping down your wrist to hang in the crook of your elbow. “It's for your benefit, anyway, not mine,” you say, grabbing the headband to stretch carefully over the top of his head. He's impossibly tall, and even on tiptoes you struggle. He slouches imperceptibly to help you. “This is messy business.” 

“I've washed my face before.” 

“Not like this, babe.” 

You coerce the headband around his neck before pulling the front back up over his face to push his hair back. It's tight around his ears, and when he looks in the mirror, it is with an incredible amount of self disdain. 

“Good kitty,” you praise. 

Miguel adjusts the white cat ears to be central, relieving a little of the pressure from behind his own ears, but not enough. “Can we hurry this up?” 

You make sure your own face is clear and grin. “Let's do it.” 

You wet your faces with handfuls of hot water. Miguel's skincare routine consists of nothing more than showering and using a mild facial soap before bed; yours feels rather mammoth in comparison. First is an oil cleanse. You pour honey-coloured facial oil into his hands from a stout bottle, and he follows your lead without needing instruction, dedicating himself the skin surrounding his nose and between his brows  

“Wash it off with water,” you say, “I'm gonna do it a bit longer.” 

“Why?” 

“It's supposed to pull the gunk out of my pores.” 

“What about my pores?” he asks. 

You rub circles into your nose. “Who said I care about your pores?” 

Miguel doesn't bother rolling his eyes, bending to wash the oil from his face. Next is regular face wash, white suds gathering in your brows and under your nose as your elbows fight for room at the sink basin. You win (he lets you) (or that's what he likes to think), rinsing the soap off and patting your face dry with a small towel. 

The sink gurgles as he turns off the faucet, water running down the line of his neck and his arms to his elbows. You pat him dry. 

He likes that, the simple intimacy of being looked after unconsciously. You obviously don't think about drying his neck and hands for him, you just do it. 

“What next?” he asks quietly. Softly, some might suggest. 

“Come on,” you say, taking his hand. 

Miguel has seen you do it all many times now, but doing it with you is different. He lets you pull him into the bedroom, where you pick through bottles of serums and toners and tubs of pads to grab a red bottle. 

“Dragon blood?” he asks, eyeing the label of your face mist in distrust. 

“Not really. Close your eyes.” 

You spray your mist over his face, and he doesn't flinch, barely moves an inch, until you put a hand gently to his chest and crane your head up to kiss him while he's unsuspecting. 

He admits defeat. He loves you, he can't hide it much longer. “Is that everything, mi querida?” 

“That's not half of it.” You rub his tacky cheek adoringly. “Would you?” 

He takes the bottle of mist from your offered hand, waiting for you to close your eyes. When they're shuttered tight, he leans down to kiss you thrice in quick succession, lest you feel the curve of his smile on your lips and think he's having fun. 

[earlgreytea68]

For most of my adult life, I have consistently watched home improvement shows. I find the rhythm of them soothing, the fact that they're entirely predictable. Sometimes that's just what I need. The swoops of fiction are too much for me, and I just want to watch something that requires no thought on my part. (I also love cooking shows.)

Anyway, every single home improvement show, without fail, as they're working on the home, they uncover the fact that the previous people didn't do the job right. Whatever job that might be. It doesn't matter what it was, it was done incorrectly, and must be fixed. This happens on EVERY SINGLE EPISODE of EVERY SINGLE SHOW. And I've always kind of assumed this is manufactured drama because they think viewers want to see raised stakes or something. It just seemed impossible to me that every single house in America and Canada -- where these shows primarily take place -- has been incorrectly built.

And then.

AND THEN.

I decided to take on my own home improvement project. This is supposed to be one of the simplest little home improvement projects you can do: I am changing out the hardware on my kitchen cabinets. My kitchen's a little dated and not my preferred style, but it doesn't really need to be overhauled, so I thought I'd just switch up the hardware to something I like better and that it would make a big difference in how I felt about the kitchen. This seemed like a smart plan and totally doable.

No, no, it is HUGELY ANNOYING. Like, at least half of the time the new hardware doesn't exactly fit the holes left behind by the old hardware. Not by any measurement that you could be like, "Oh, you bought the wrong size." No, I have the right size. It's just that, like, the hole is often times 1/64 of an inch off, and then that makes your life absolute hell, and you are contorted into this weird angle to try to get at the screwdriver and pulling with all your weight to try to get everything lined up correctly and you know what?

Very quickly I was like, "That's good enough." Sometimes there's only one screw in instead of the two the handle is supposed to have. Whatever, it's good enough. One of the handles is crooked instead of flush. Good enough. Like, I am now no longer surprised that no one performs any home improvement task correctly. I THINK IT MIGHT BE IMPOSSIBLE. For the first time I completely understand why all these prior people couldn't be bothered to do things the right way. In fact, I am raising a toast of solidarity in their direction. I get it now. You were like, "Good enough." I cannot blame you.

[racefortheironthrone]

TLT World Building: The Nine Houses and the Logistics of Space Empires

Building off my earlier post about stele-and-obelisk travel and the River, I wanted to talk about something that's been rattling around my mind for a while, which is subluminary travel and the logistics of the Nine Houses. One of the things that has been brought up as a criticism of Muir's world-building as far back as Gideon the Ninth is that the Empire seems to have very, very fast non-FTL travel, such that Gideon and Harrow travel the 3.3 billion miles from Pluto to Earth in an hour, without using a stele. How, it was asked, does an Empire whose military relies on swords and whose medical knowledge is incredibly uneven at best, accomplish a technological feat of that magnitude?

I think we got an answer for that in Nona the Ninth:

“That ship’s not big enough for a stele. Don’t know if it’s big enough for subluminary travel, even. How did it get here?” Crown leant back in her chair, staring at the projector screen, head balanced in the crook of one golden arm. Nona noticed that her biceps showed even through her shirt, and that there were rubber bandages wrapped around one palm. She said, “Oh, that’s big enough for subluminary travel, Millie. See the double struts, and the massive exhaust? That’s a Ziz-class.” ...Crown continued, “The Ziz isn’t Cohort standard. And it’s not as big on the inside as you think. Look at the windows—see how there’re none on the back end? It’s mostly engine. Not plated either. It’ll get to sublume without many problems … but it definitely doesn’t have room for a stele. Camilla is right. It can’t travel by obelisk anchor.” Pyrrha said suddenly, “Crown. How’s the fuel consumption on a Ziz-class ship?” “Thirsty,” said Crown, brightening up at being asked. “Its cell would be totally drained after a day in subluminary. It only takes the powerful stuff too—thalergy-enriched, not just hydrogen blend. Hydrogen blend stuffs up the engine.”

The answer is necromancy. (Because of course it is.) The Empire infuses shuttle fuel with thalergy - and we know that the necromantic specialty of the Second House is to "drain thalergy from any living source and use it," so the Empire can treat thalergy as a fungible resource that they can extract, store, and then use somewhere else. Moreover, we know that the necromantic specialty of the Fourth House is "exciting thanergy into a state of fission" in order to produce explosions.

Since necromancy can easily convert thalergy into thanergy, I think that the Empire's higher-end shuttles are powered by necromantic pulse propulsion, such that shuttle fuel is burned to produce thrust, but then at the same time the thanergy is turned into a massive fission explosion behind the shuttle, producing even more thrust.

I think this also explains why the Second and Fourth are so disproportionately represented in the Cohort, because in addition to producing soldiers for the front lines, they're heavily involved with making the Cohort Fleets move. (I'm going to further speculate that the Fourth make up a lot of the Fleets' pilots, since that would fit their necromantic specialties, the nature of their planet, and their image as gung-ho "go fast" types.) This leads me to a few conclusions:

it explains why the Empire is so focused on short-term extraction; it's essentially stripping the thalergy for fuel to power subluminary transportation in the Dominicus system and beyond, in the same way that we're burning fossil fuels to power our economies today. There is a profound irony in that Mr. Environmentalist John Gaius has so precisely recreated the dynamics of the carbon economy through necromancy.

it explains how logistics in the Nine Houses work. If you can use necromantic fission drives to get from the outer edge of the Dominicus system to the core that quickly, than most of the logistical complexities of running a multiplanetary economy fall away. All you have to do is get your transport shuttle full of goods from the colonies to a stele at the edge of the Dominicus system, and then necromantic fission solves the "last mile problem" of getting your Necro-Amazon "just-in-time" deliveries to the hungry markets of the Third or the Fifth. You don't need to worry about the fact that you can't produce a lot of organic resources on thanergetic planets (especially ones that are space stations and the like rather than fully terraformed), because you just have everything delivered.

it similarly explains how logistics out in the colonies work. Even if you're at the edge of the stele network, necromantic fission shuttles can transport goods between planets in the same solar system with relative ease. It only becomes an issue when you're a ways out from the edge of the network, because that involves burning more thalergy-enriched fuel. Hence why Corona talks about "the Cohort movements didn’t make sense to her...shepherd planets got more costly the further the Houses extended themselves."

This makes me think of necromancy in a different way than I had before. Rather than just being about magic and warfare, necromancy is essentially the technology of the Nine Houses (aside from some legacy technologies that they have left over from pre-Resurrection), the tool that they use to solve all of their problems and make their society and economy and government function.

[brbsoulnomming]

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 23

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | AO3

-----

They're on the front page for about a week.

They run the stories of Hopper and Henry Creel simultaneously - honestly, Eddie kind of thinks the fact that Hopper was presumed dead and is now back makes it easier for people to believe a previously assumed dead guy is the top suspect for the murders.

Eddie gets barely a mention clearing him of all charges. There's a couple of articles about him and Steve fighting off Henry Creel, but the focus is more on Steve than anything else.

Steve bitches about it, about how they did the same thing after Starcourt, but Eddie's kind of glad his name isn't plastered all over the place anymore.

He and Steve are down in the kitchen scrounging up celebratory snacks and beers - Steve has a clean bill of health, and Eddie's stitches are coming out in a few days - when the phone rings.

"Harrington residence, this is Steve speaking," he greets.

Eddie barely has time to decide he's absolutely going to tease him about that later when the response comes - loud enough for him to hear it.

"Steven, my boy!" the voice booms, spirited and affable.

Steve closes his eyes, the muscles in his jaw tightening. "Hi, Dad."

"We just heard the news!" Steve's father says. "Why didn't you call to tell us? Did the earthquake damage anything?"

Part of Eddie thinks he should leave. Or at least back away, so he can't hear everything that's being said - but the other part of him thinks that Steve'd push him away if he didn't want him here, and with how tense Steve's gone next to him, Eddie can't bring himself to pull away.

"The house is fine," Steve says. "Loch Nora didn't get hit at all."

"Good, good," Mr. Harrington says. "Your mother hears you and Rachel have been volunteering with the relief efforts?"

Eddie didn't think it was possible, but Steve goes even stiffer.

"Robin," he corrects, his tone smooth and entirely void of inflection. "Yes, we've been coordinating donations."

"That's what I want to hear!" There's a sound like a loud clap. "I'm glad to see you're taking this seriously. You had a lot of ground to make up for, but it seems giving you a dose of reality has paid off. We'll be able to have some real talks about your future soon. What? Oh, your mother wants to talk to you."

There's a shuffling noise, then a quieter and much less friendly voice greets, "Steven."

"Hey Mom," Steve's posture relaxes a little. "I told Dad we made it out okay."

There's some kind of response, but Steve's mom is too quiet for Eddie to make it out.

"No, of course I didn't file charges. I knew you'd want to handle it if anything else happened." A pause. "Yes, that Carver. Mom, it's not - yeah. Yeah, okay. No, it's just him. I think he's just mad that people listened to me and not him. Yeah, I - all right. Bye."

He hangs up the phone, leaning in with one arm braced against the wall, a long line of tension.

"Steve?" Eddie says quietly.

Steve turns to face him, giving a little crooked smile. "You can ask if you want. I don't mind you and Robin knowing. It's… easier sometimes, if she expects it, and it's probably the same with you."

Eddie aches a little. "What was your dad talking about? What ground to make up for?"

Steve makes a face. "I did a lot of damage to the Harrington image the last bit of high school, you know. Stopped caring about my reputation, didn't get accepted into any of the colleges they wanted me to go to, kept getting into fights."

"But that wasn't - did they even ask you what actually happened?" Eddie asks.

"They don't care what actually happened," Steve replies. "Just what it looked like. Like I said, it's all about appearances with them. My dad's the main reason I worked at Scoops instead of being a lifeguard again last summer - he says it's because I needed a real life experience, learn what it means to work at the bottom, but he was just pissy and trying to humiliate me. He talks a big game about working hard, but all he really cares about is how I make them look. Now that I've gotten good press twice, he's happy again."

Eddie's mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. "He didn't even ask if you were okay."

Steve shrugs. "I looked fine in the papers."

Right.

Appearances.

"Will you be mad at me if I punch your dad if I ever see him?" Eddie asks.

Steve laughs, a surprised little sound like he's startled by it. "No," he says. "But only if I get to punch yours for leaving you."

Oh.

If Eddie was thinking about it, he'd have moved slowly, making sure to telegraph what he was doing so he didn't startle Steve, but he reacts on instinct and pulls Steve into a hug.

Steve doesn't even flinch at the sudden motion. He just melts into it, letting Eddie wrap him up and hold him tightly. His arms come up to cross over Eddie's shoulder blades, the placement automatically mindful of his injuries in the way only someone who's bandaged them multiple times could be.

"Sometimes I wish they just wouldn't call at all," Steve admits, face buried in Eddie's neck. It comes out in a rush, like he hadn't really thought about it before he said it, but he's getting it out anyway. "That they'd just cut me out of their life, instead of stringing me along."

"Fuck them," Eddie says. "I've got you."

He can hear Steve swallow, and Steve hugs him tighter.

They stay like that for a long while, until Eddie finally pulls back.

"Hey," he says softly. "I'll get the food and stuff. Go upstairs and see Robin."

Steve looks uncertain. "You sure?"

Eddie hugs him one more time. "You've got two soulmates," he murmurs. "Let us take care of you a little, okay?"

Steve squeezes him tight, then lets go with a nod before heading upstairs.

Eddie dithers in the kitchen for a bit, taking an extra long time. Whatever his complicated feelings are, it doesn't bother him at all to give Steve and Robin some space like this.

They're talking when he comes back, which isn't a surprise, and he hears his own name as he gets closer to the bedroom. Eddie pauses, even though he shouldn't, listening through the cracked door. He'll feel worse about it later, probably, but right now the masochistic side of him can't resist the urge to know what they're saying about him.

"I want him so much, Robs," he hears Steve saying, low and soft like he's trying to be quiet.

"I know," Robin replies, her tone somehow managing to be both gentle and snarky at the same time. "It's kind of pathetic."

Steve lets out a muffled groan. "Not helping. I don't exactly have the greatest track record at being able to get over people! I thought, with my soulmate-"

He cuts off, and Eddie can't help the bubbling anger that springs up. Steve thought? Has he stopped for one second to think about how Eddie might feel, only ever having a platonic soulmate? Wanting him just as bad and not being able to have him, not being able to have anyone?

"-someone else?" Robin is saying, like she's reading his thoughts, and Eddie has to hold his breath as he makes sure he hadn't accidentally said that outloud.

"I don't want anyone else," Steve says miserably. "Just him. I think - I think it's always going to be him. Fuck, why does this have to be so complicated?"

There's a heavy, thick silence, and Eddie's anger simmers and crackles under his skin, the way it always does when there's a hefty mixing of guilt in it.

"Do you think-" Robin starts, then stops. "Do you wish-" She stops again, voice thick with emotion. "Would it be easier if we-"

"No," Steve says, cutting her off at the same time that Eddie realizes what she's probably trying to bring herself to ask.

There's the muffled sound of shuffling, quiet hitching breaths - probably the motions of Steve trying to reassure one of his soulmates that he wants her, and he imagines him gathering her close, pressing soft kisses anywhere he can reach, cutting off anything she tries to say with a deeper, fiercer kiss.

Eddie bites the inside of his cheek so hard he tastes copper to keep himself from making some kind of sound to give himself away. He hates that he doesn't know what he's feeling - hates that he thinks he's jealous of Robin just as much as he doesn't feel jealous of her, not really. He's jealous of the images he conjures when he thinks about them together, but he's never actually jealous when he's with them, when he watches them.

That reminder makes him shift, peeking through the cracked door so he can see them. They're sitting facing each other, legs all tangled together. One of Steve's hands is covering Robin's heart, and the other is curled around one of Robin's hands, pinning it to his chest over his own heart, and their foreheads are pressed together.

Something in Eddie settles in a way he can't explain, all thoughts of jealousy gone.

"There's no me without you," Steve is saying. "You're a part of me, Robs, I can't do this without either of you."

She says something too muffled for Eddie to make out.

"I'm happy. I really am, I promise. I love you, I love us, exactly the way we are. And with Eddie-"

Eddie leans forward, too desperate to know what he's going to say to worry about being caught.

"I don't need anything else other than just him. However I can have him. If it's never romantic, if this is us forever - it doesn't matter, not really. I just need you and him, and the kids, and I'm good."

There's silence, the two of them just completely wrapped up in each other, and fuck, Eddie - he thinks you know what, if this is it, if what he has is Steve and Robin and the kids forever, then he's good, too.

"I love you, Robin Buckley," Steve says. "In a way I never realized was possible, until you and that dumb kid showed up in my life and taught me that you don't have to do anything to earn someone's love. That sometimes, it's just unconditional."

Steve was sixteen when he fought his first demogorgon, Eddie remembers that. Which means he couldn't have been any younger than that when he started really spending any time with Dustin or Robin, which means - the same thing that Eddie went through when he first moved in with Uncle Wayne, the thing that was so impossible for him to believe at twelve, Steve wasn't shown until he was probably seventeen.

Fuck, his heart aches.

"Does Henderson know he was your first true love?" Robin asks, her voice a little wet, but obviously trying to make things a little lighter.

Steve laughs, the sound just a bit thick. "No, and he'd be insufferable if I told him."

There's the faint sting of a new lie being written on the back of his calf, and the second he registers it, he hears Robin's startled laughter. Eddie pulls back from the door, sucking in a deep breath and letting it out, trying to get himself back under control.

"Oh my God, Steve, you did tell him! When?"

He can hear Steve sputtering and deflecting, the sound of Robin smacking him and Steve scrambling - probably trying to avoid them - and if there was ever going to be a good time to announce his return after shamelessly listening in for too long, now is probably it.

Eddie pushes open the door, six pack under one arm and bags of popcorn and chips under the other as he shoots a hopefully only slightly manic grin at them. "What's Steve lying about now?"

"Nothing!" Steve says too quickly.

Sloppy, for him, considering Eddie knows how good Steve usually is at using sarcasm or half truths to avoid telling lies, so Eddie tosses the bag of popcorn at him.

He catches it easily, of course, but it means he's now vulnerable to Robin's attacks, and he has to swerve to avoid another slap to his shoulder.

"Steve's trying to pretend like we both didn't get that lie, too," Robin says.

Steve groans. "Fine, Jesus. It was back when we were waiting at the camper, and Dustin was upset. I told him that he was the first person who was ever just - there, in my life because he wanted to be, even after he didn't need me to fight demodogs. No one could ever replace him."

"You're such a sap, Steve," Eddie teases him as he comes to sit next to him and Robin.

"Shut up," Steve grumbles. "That's it, I'm picking the movie."

—

The next day, Lucas and Max swing by. Steve hauls a basketball stand out of the garage and sets it up in the driveway, and Eddie sits at the kitchen table, eating a bologna sandwich while he watches them play.

It's safer inside, where there's no one to see if he gets affected by Steve's tank top and shorts.

Or at least, he thought it was safer inside.

"Do you love Steve?" Max asks, plopping down beside him.

Eddie chokes on his Coke, and she stares at him unsympathetically until he manages to breathe again.

"He's my soulmate, so." Eddie shrugs.

Max gives him an unimpressed look, and yeah, okay, he figures they both know soulmates aren't a guarantee of anything. Eddie's parents were soulmates, after all, loved each other more than anything else in this world, and that still hadn't been enough.

"I wanted him to be my soulmate before I knew it was him," he admits, because that's a more true answer without actually having to say yes or no. "Nothing's happened since to change that."

She gets this look on her face like she's trying to decide if that's an acceptable response. After a moment, she rests her chin on her knees, staring out the window, and Eddie figures he's in the clear.

"Steve has two soulmates," she says after a while. "You don't. Doesn't that make you feel - I don't know, like you aren't enough?"

"Jesus Christ, Red, you're not pulling any punches today, are you?" Eddie swears.

He doesn't actually want to have this conversation. It's not something he's completely sorted out on his own, yet, even though he's done a lot of thinking on it, and he's tempted to tell her to mind her own business.

But she won't look at him, and he knows why she's asking. She's not talking about him and Steve and Robin, not really.

He thinks about telling her something standard about soulmates, or maybe even the advice that his uncle gave him, but it doesn't feel right.

"It's not what I always imagined," Eddie admits slowly.

Max doesn't say anything, but he watches the way she starts to unwind a little, how she doesn't hold herself so stiff, tilts a little to actually listen to what he's saying.

"You know Steve and I talked to each other when we were younger. We thought the same way about a lot of stuff, and I had this idea in my head that he was some little outcast like me, in another small town somewhere out there, that we'd move to a big city and find each other. But then we stopped talking."

"How come?" Max asks, looking caught up despite herself.

Eddie grins at her, wide and self depreciating. "I found out he was probably some rich, popular jerk, and decided I hated him."

And there's that unimpressed look again.

"Yeah, yeah," Eddie grumbles. "Let's just say there might be some truth to not talking with your soulmate before you actually meet them. Point is, for almost five years, I hated my soulmate. Thought the best I could hope for was that we'd meet when we were thirty and ancient, and maybe then he would have changed. Then a little while ago, I met Steve."

Max's brows furrow. "You met Steve way before that."

"Nah," he says. "I knew of Steve. I had a lot of assumptions about him, knew what I thought he was, but I didn't know the real Steve. That Steve I met when he helped explain all of this to me and didn't make me feel stupid for not picking up some of it right away, even after I held a broken bottle to his throat."

She snorts, but looks like she's considering that. "I met him when he was putting himself between me, Lucas, and Dustin and a hoard of demodogs, a couple of hours after calling them dickheads and me some random girl."

Eddie salutes her with his can of Coke, half in understanding and half to cover the way his heart wants to melt again. "That Steve was nothing like I imagined my soulmate to be, when I was daydreaming about him or hating him. But I knew I didn't want anyone else, and Steve having another soulmate doesn't change that. I don't think it makes what he feels for me any less than what I feel for him, and I don't think it means I'm less important to him than he is to me."

Max frowns. "Really, or are you just saying that?"

"Really," Eddie says, though he hadn't actually been sure it was true until he heard himself say it. "I'm not saying it's not hard sometimes. And sometimes I get in my head about it. But I wouldn't change it. Steve wouldn't be the same without Robin, you know? He wouldn't be the Steve that made me want him to be my soulmate so bad."

There's a long moment of silence. Then, "Would you be saying that if both of his soulmates were romantic?"

Eddie's glad he stopped drinking, because he knows he would have choked again. For a split second, she wonders if she's picked up on - but no, that still isn't what this about. "Are both of yours romantic?"

Her jaw juts forward, arms hugging tighter around her knees. "What if they were?"

Fuck, he doesn't know what to say to that. "It's okay to like both guys and girls," he says, because he feels like that's the most important bit. "I do. I mean, mostly guys, but sometimes girls."

Her grip loosens a little, but she still doesn't say anything.

"It sounds like maybe I'm not the one you should be talking to about that," he says carefully.

She scowls. "I talked to Steve already."

Right, of course she did.

"What did Steve say?"

"Steve said he thinks the line between platonic and romantic soulmates isn't as straightforward as people like to pretend it is. That sometimes what you might think should be romantic is actually platonic, and sometimes what you think should be platonic is romantic, and sometimes there's going to be things that blur the lines and you don't really know which one it is. He said it was okay to have two platonic or two romantic or one of each or, like, any combination." She makes a face here, like she's not entirely sure what he meant by any combination - or like she was sure, and didn't need that much detail. "That as long as everyone was communicating, it was okay to do whatever worked for us."

Eddie swallows. "Steve sounds pretty smart."

Max rolls her eyes. "He has his moments."

"So… are you communicating with Lucas and El?" he asks.

She picks at a rip in her jeans. "I talked to Lucas."

He waits, but it seems like that's all he's going to get. He starts to ask what Lucas said, but… he gets the feeling that it's not necessarily about what he said or not.

"But it's Lucas," Eddie says. "And you wanted to hear how someone else in a familiar situation felt."

Eddie gets that familiar, itchy feeling that he does when he wants to run, and he only barely resists the urge to bounce his leg up and down. It's not that he wants to run from Max, or even from this conversation, it's just - it's starting to make him think about things, and he really, really doesn't want an audience for this. He wants to lock himself in a room and pace, listen to some music, maybe scribble out his thoughts, something to get his hands moving and his brain in some kind of order -

"Even if Steve wanted both of us romantically," he says, knowing it's close enough that it's not a lie. "I would still rather be his soulmate than anyone else."

Max looks at him with narrowed eyes for a long moment. "I'm gonna ask Steve if you lied about that."

Eddie fixes her with an unimpressed look right back. "You think I'd do that to him?"

"You better not." There's an edge of menace in her tone, but she lets it go, so Eddie figures she doesn't really think he'd lie about something like that knowing it would be etched on Steve's skin forever.

Silence stretches between them, and Eddie follows her gaze out the window, watching Steve and Lucas playing basketball.

"I've put him through so much already," Max says, so quietly that he can barely hear it.

Fuck, Eddie is so fucking soft for these kids.

"You have not," Eddie says immediately. "You haven't done a goddamn thing, Red. Both of you have already been through so much, and it's not because of something either of you did. It's fucking Hawkins."

She doesn't look convinced, so Eddie pushes his shoulder against hers.

"Lucas is smart. He's more emotionally intelligent than I am-" Max snorts at him, and he's reasonably sure he hears her mutter something along the lines of like that's hard, but he ignores her. "He knows what he can take and what he can't. All you have to do is believe him when he tells you it."

She's quiet for a moment, looking contemplative. Then she asks, "Does that work for you?"

Right, yeah, okay, he deserved that one. He thinks about deflecting, but -

"I'm trying," he admits quietly. "What do you think, huh, you gonna let me beat you there or are we gonna do this together?"

Max glances out the window again, then turns to look back at him, her chin jutting out. "Steve loves too much, and he gets it thrown back at him too often. I don't think he really believes that we love him as much as he loves us, even though we do."

She says it like a threat, like she's saying if you tell him I said that I will kill you or maybe if you hurt him I will kill you. Either way, he'd be dead.

"I'll talk to Lucas and El, and you make sure you don't disappoint him."

Goddamn if that doesn't stab right to the heart of him, lodging itself beneath his ribcage and sticking right into the parts that'd already made him want to run from this conversation.

"Okay," he manages to get out, because he's not sure he'll survive any other answer.

Max nods. "Good talk," she tells him, and then she pushes herself up and she's gone.

Eddie stays there, mulling all of that over. He doesn't think she'd actually tell Steve anything they just talked about, nor does he think she really has any idea that Steve had asked him to make their bond romantic and he'd turned him down. Honestly, Eddie could probably get away with patting himself on the back for actually managing to give some decent advice and be the person she'd needed him to be for just a little while, then go on being a very devoted platonic soulmate for Steve.

Except even if Max doesn't really know, Eddie does. And now Eddie's thinking about things he doesn't want to, and wondering how much of a hypocrite some of the advice that he gave her makes him, and -

"Hey," Lucas says, and Eddie yelps.

Lucas raises his eyebrows at him.

"Jesus Christ, don't do that," Eddie bitches.

There's a little smirk, but fortunately, Lucas doesn't actually comment on it. "You talk to Max?" he asks instead.

"Yeah," Eddie replies, narrowing his eyes at him.

Lucas lights up, though, his whole face practically beaming with his smile. "Good. I figured it'd help her to hear that your soulmate cares about you no matter what from someone who wasn't me."

Eddie raises one eyebrow. "How do you know that's what I said?"

Lucas rolls his eyes. "Because you're Steve's soulmate. If that wasn't the way you felt, Robin would know, and she'd have already murdered you."

Eddie considers that. "Okay, fair."

Lucas makes his way over to the fridge, yanking it open and standing in front of it as he peers in. "So what did you tell her?"

Eddie sits back, waiting until Lucas turns to look back at him so he can shoot him a wide, smug grin. "If she wants you to know, she'll tell you."

He gets a glare in return, but Lucas doesn't protest that, just leans back in to grab a pair of Gatorades from the fridge. He twists the top off of one, taking a long swallow before he shuts the door and starts back out of the kitchen, giving him a little nod as he passes.

"Hey, Lucas?" Eddie calls before he can leave.

Lucas pauses, looking quizzically at him.

"I'm guessing you talk to Steve like Max does, about all this." Eddie makes an exaggerated gesture between them and out the kitchen window, meant to loop all of them in together. "But, uh. You know. If you ever want a different perspective, from someone in kind of your position."

He motions to himself, then splays his hands out all ta-da.

Lucas hesitates, lingering in the middle of the kitchen before he seems to make a decision.

"I was kind of upset about it when I first found out Max's other soulmate was El," he admits. "It was right after Billy died, and their soulmate bond was new, and Max kept letting El in while she was shutting me out. And I was angry, and jealous, and then when El had to leave and Max kept pushing me away, I just kept thinking that if El was here Max wouldn't be by herself so much, that the wrong soulmate got to stay in Hawkins."

Lucas pauses, twisting the Gatorades in his hand, but Eddie gets the feeling it's a gathering his thoughts pause more than a waiting for Eddie to say something pause.

"Eventually I realized that El could help Max in a way that I couldn't, and that maybe that was the point. I started calling El a little, too, when the phone wasn't busy, and just - El was grieving, too. I didn't want to feel jealous over something that helped them both anymore. It's been good with El back, really good. I don't know if I like El like that, but if Max does-" he shrugs. "I guess I kind of already got over the jealousy bit. It doesn't really matter to me if they kiss while they're having sleepovers or not, as long as they don't exclude me."

Now it seems like a waiting for Eddie to say something pause, so he gives a soft little hum. "What do you do if you end up feeling excluded?"

Lucas blinks, like he wasn't expecting that question. "Uh. Well, before, I talked to my parents and sometimes to Steve or Robin or Dustin. It's hard talking to Mike or Will about it because they're not all that objective about El stuff. I don't… really know if I want to tell my parents about Max and El like that yet, so I guess… talk to Steve or Robin or Dustin." He pauses, then, more tentatively, "Or you?"

Fuck, these kids keep getting to him. "Or me," he agrees easily. "But you should probably also add talk to Max and El to that list."

Lucas makes a face, but doesn't disagree. "I don't think a lot of the others know about Max," he says instead. "Just me and Steve and Robin, and now you."

There's an edge to his voice, like he's pretty sure Eddie must be safe if Max told him, but he's ready to fight him about it anyway.

"Max knows about me, now, so we're even," Eddie replies, pleased that the effort he puts into making sure his voice sounds steady pays off.

"Yeah?" Lucas asks. "Who else knows?"

"Steve and Robin. And now Max and you," Eddie replies.

Lucas lights up a little. "Cool."

"Cool," Eddie echoes, even though he feels a little shaky from the fact that he's now said it twice today, which is double the amount of times he's ever said it before at all.

There's a comfortable silence for a moment.

"It's complicated, being in our position," Eddie says after a bit. "I think it's always going to be complicated. But if we let it - I think it could be really great, too. Most people only end up in pairs, but us? We get a whole damn party of interconnected soulmates."

"A party of soulmates," Lucas says thoughtfully, then grins. "Yeah, I like that."

"You're a good kid, Lucas," Eddie tells him, not sure if he really needs to hear it, but he still remembers the way it made him feel when Uncle Wayne said it.

Lucas ducks his head, looking a little pleased, even though he follows it up with a sidelong look. "Even though I'm kind of a jock?"

Eddie shrugs. "My soulmate is a whole jock. I guess that means I've got a little jock in me, too."

Lucas's expression shifts, turning mischievous, and suddenly he looks like the fifteen year old boy he is, and not a world-weary adult. It's nice, it's wonderful, Eddie loves to see it, except it makes him realize what he just said far, far too late to do anything about it.

In his defense, they were having a serious discussion, and -

Yeah, he's got nothing.

Maybe it'll be fine? Lucas is probably the most mature out of all of the boys, maybe -

"I don't know, man," Lucas says, slowly, like he's actually considering that. "We've all heard the rumors about Steve. I don't think it's something little you're gonna be dealing with."

Eddie gapes at him.

"I said you were mature," he bemoans, flinging his upper body over the top of the kitchen table just to make Lucas laugh harder. "I told Max you were emotionally intelligent! Begone from my sight!"

Lucas takes his Gatorades and leaves, still laughing at him.

—

"Max cornered me in the kitchen to threaten me today," Eddie says.

Steve snorts. "Of course she did. What about?"

Eddie shrugs, waiting for Steve to look at him so he can waggle his eyebrows at him. "She also threatened to kill me if I told you."

Steve shoves him, and Eddie falls back dramatically, sprawling out on the couch. He props himself up on his elbows to look at Steve, but he doesn't seem inclined to actually push him to reveal what he and Max talked about. Instead, Steve goes about shutting down for the night, checking to make sure all the windows and the sliding glass door are locked.

"Soulmate stuff," Eddie says. Or more like blurts out, before he can change his mind, to force himself to have to keep going. "She told me what you said about the line between platonic and romantic soulmates. Made me think about some things."

"Yeah?" Steve asks, stopping by the couch to look at him.

"Do you still want me, Steve?" Eddie asks, his heart in his throat.

He isn't prepared for Steve to shut down, for the way his face goes cold and hard and blank.

"Not cool, Eddie," Steve says, turning away and going back to the windows in the living room.

Eddie pushes himself up off the couch, then immediately doubts himself and sits back down. "Steve, what?"

Steve won't look at him, and he can hear the window locks rattling with the force that Steve's using to check them. "You're being a dick, man, come on. You can't ask me stuff like that."

"I-" he starts, then stops, his mind scrambling a little. Is he too late? Did Steve move on already, even though he told Robin that he wasn't going to? Is Eddie so easy to get over that even his fucking soulmate couldn't keep him? "What happened to it's always going to be him, huh?"

"Jesus Christ," Steve says, incredulous, and Eddie kind of wants to cry a little because he knows that Steve has started saying that more because of all the time they've spent together. "You were listening to me and Robin? What the fuck, man, you still think it's fair to throw that at me?"

"Fuck you, Steve, I know it wasn't a lie when you said that. Am I so fucking easy to just stop wanting, or are you that fucking fickle?"

"Eddie, goddamn, is this - were you testing me? Is this you lashing out at me again? Because I can't, okay, not about this, I can't-" he cuts off, one hand scrubbing over his face. "I told you, I can't."

Oh.

Oh fuck.

"Steve, no, I wasn't teasing, I - it was a real question."

Steve stills, pausing right by a window. The light of the moon catches on him, highlighting parts of him in pale silver while the rest of him is warmed from the soft yellow of the living room lamp. "Seriously?"

"Come on, Steve. I just picked a fight with you instead of asking what you meant, and you're surprised I'm not sure you still want me anymore?"

Eddie can hear Steve breathing out, then in, then back out again, watches as he lets some of the tension bleed out of his body. "I think I picked some of that fight right back. I'm sorry, I just - all right, let's go back, and I'll listen without making assumptions, okay?"

Yeah, okay, Eddie can do that.

"Max told me what you said," Eddie starts again. "And it made me think about how smart you are." He wishes Steve were closer, so he could see his face better, at the same time as he wishes he couldn't see it at all. "How brave you are. How when you know what you want, you go for it, how you fight to keep it, how you own up when you make a mistake, how you work so hard to make all this work."

This is Eddie trying to be brave, he thinks. Trying to go for what he wants, to accept that they're going to have to work at this, that he's probably going to get hurt, that he has to trust that Steve will be willing to work past whatever it is that springs up.

It takes him a little too long, though, because after a few moments, Steve gently prompts, "Eddie?"

"Do you still want me?" he asks again. He didn't mean to, but it comes out anyway, all small and tentative.

"Eds," Steve breathes out. "I'm always going to want you."

He loves too much, and he gets it thrown back at him too often, Max had said, and Eddie swallows down the urge to ask him if he means it, if he'll still mean it the next time Eddie picks a fight, or every time he's an ass.

"I'm always going to want you, too," Eddie says.

Steve's hands twitch, and he looks like he's waiting for something - for a lie to show up on his skin, Eddie realizes, and Eddie knows he's going to have to do better than that.

"I want you," he says again. "Steve, I want you. I'll take you any way I can get you, but I just - this is stupid, I'm stupid. I'm making us both miserable because I was scared."

He's not surprised that's what gets Steve moving, and he comes over to sit by him on the couch.

"You're not stupid," Steve replies. "Not for being scared."

Eddie shakes his head. "No, but I am for giving into it. So I might get hurt, so what? I'm already hurting, wanting you so bad and not getting to have you, knowing you'd probably let me kiss you and not letting myself go for it."

Steve's looking at him, eyes all sharp and intense, like he's really listening to Eddie's every word, and hell if it doesn't make him feel just a little bit drunk on it.

"Talking with Max made me realize that I trust you. I trust you, with my life, with - fucking everything. I trust you to work through this with me, to figure out what works for us."

Steve runs a hand over his jaw, going up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Yeah?" he asks after a moment. "You really - you want to do this?"

"So fucking much," Eddie says.

Steve's whole face lights up in a smile, and he leans in, one hand resting on Eddie's knee. "That mean I can kiss you now?"

Eddie barely manages to get out a please before Steve's other hand is sliding over his jaw, slipping back to push his fingers into his hair and cup the side of his face. Steve holds him there as he kisses him, and it's-

It's not Eddie's first kiss. But it's his first kiss that's ever really meant anything, and the soft brush of Steve's lips against his makes his heart stutter in his chest.

Steve gives a little hum, low in his throat, and then he's tilting his head to get a better angle, and holy shit.

Eddie pushes forward eagerly, deepening the kiss until they're both panting for breath, and even then they don't pull away. Their foreheads press together, lips parted and just barely touching as they share the same air. His eyes have closed at some point, but now he opens them to find Steve looking back at him, and Eddie smiles.

"How long do you think until Robin notices we haven't come up?" he asks.

"I'm okay with figuring that out," Steve replies, closing the tiny bit of distance between them to kiss him again.

I've got a pretty good handle on the outline for the rest of this now, so I'd say we've got about four more parts left!

-----

Part 24

Tag list (always happy to add more): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman @scarlet-malfoy @i-less-than-three-you @hbyrde36 @hallucinatedjosten @dragonsandgayships @arepaconchocolate @g4ys0n @novelnovella @bisexualdisastersworld @ghostofyourvampiregf @scarletyeager @pettrichore @nerd-and-nervous @hiimlevi @queenie-ofthe-void @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

[twiixr4kidz]

ok one final one….. Scott and da evil exes x reader…. Making out/falling asleep together headcanons!!! Thanks -💀🎀

ooh i like this idea!! i think it's funny that i said i'll write stuff about making out and i got like 5 requests LMAO feel free to keep em coming!!

scott pilgrim

he's an amateur, so you might have to guide him a little bit

tell him where you want him to touch you, what you're okay with, how you want him to kiss you

if need be, take the lead and show him exactly what you want

bite his ear and it's like he loses control

you'll pull away and he'll flop back, completely breathless

and then he'll crack a corny joke about how you "take his breath away" to which you'll lightly punch him and throw the covers over him

he'll get the hint and the two of you fall asleep to whatever movie you spent the entire time making out to

matthew patel

he's so playful and so teasing

he'll make little comments hear and there, tickling your sides making you squeal, right before taking your lips back in his and making you gasp into his mouth

he runs his fingers up and down your sides

one hand is always resting on your upper thigh

he won't ask for it that often, but sometimes he'll take you by the hand and drag you into an alley just to make out with you

his kisses will make you weak in the knees, but when you're in bed, that's not so much an issue

he'll place one final, long kiss on your lips before letting you rest

and he makes sure to tuck you in so you're all nice and comfy

lucas lee

expect heated makeouts on set whenever he gets a break

he yearns to feel you on his body, taste you on his tongue, even when it's the last thing he should be thinking of

one arm is pinned above your head and the other caresses your waist

they're a must on the days that he's home, and he'll take you far into the night just kissing all over your face

he kisses a line from your neck all the way back up to your lips, and then down your neck, chest, and stomach

rubs your back but not too hard, but enough to make them nice and warm

rubs your back while you fall asleep too; you're clutch to his chest while his hands wander up and down your back, waiting to see who falls asleep first

todd ingram

he's actually really gentle

soft, sweet kisses and blushing cheeks

his knees with buckle if you run your fingers through his hair

one hand is clutching your thigh and the other tucked around your waist

occasionally his hands will stray, and he'll draw little shapes on your legs and tummy as you pull away from each other

tucks his head into the crook of your neck and pulls you close to him, wishing for nothing more than to absorb you into his body and forever be as one

you fall asleep at the same time, drifting off with thoughts of one another as the only thing on your minds

roxie richter

so much tongue you're going to drown, but it's kinda hot

she's grabs at whatever naked skin you have, indenting it with his finger nails as a way to mark you up

hickeys are splattered across your neck and chest, maybe even your jaw

her leg is sprawled over yours and nudges you

just a little touch to the back of her knee and she loses it

you've unlocked a new side to roxie

she'll completely devouring you, taking in everything you give her and enjoying every minute of it

you're her's forever, and she's going to make sure of it

but when she's done, she's going to curl up into a ball like a cat, completely exhausted

kyle katayanagi

loves having you on top of him

smiling into kisses, chuckling at your advances, teasing you and the things you're doing

annoying but in a good way

makeout sesh every night he's over right before bed (and honestly, if you're dating him you should expect them all the time)

always tickles you when you're done, it's like a ritual or something

he's big spooning you as you fall asleep, and you're going to wake up with him on top of you

ken katayanagi

make out sessions with ken are something to savor

leaning into his gentle touches, he'll drive you up a wall

warm hands plastered on your stomach, your thighs, your chest if you so desire

kisses on your cheeks and neck, fingers holding tight onto whatever he's grabbing

expect to fall asleep in that position; ken sleeps like a rock and you're not going to move him

gideon graves

one word: rough

hands tugging on hair, tightening grips around your limbs, nails faintly digging into your flesh

his lips are on your neck, licking and sucking every possible spot just to make you flustered

yearns to hear you make at least a little noise

he isn't content until you do

he leaves lingering kisses on your lips as you curl into his body and fall asleep

it'll take him a while, so he'll just hold you and play with your hair until you're out like a light

[steviewashere]

Tell Me Lies, Tell Me Sweet Little Lies

Rating: General CW: Grieving/Mourning, Referenced Character Death Tags: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Married Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Takes Care of Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson has Anxiety (could be considered anxiety here), Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, False Promises, Lying as a Form of Comfort, Foreshadowing (Because all of my steddielovemonth fics are connected)

For the @steddielovemonth prompt: "Love is taking care of the other person when they're having a bad day, they don't have to be sick just need some love."

💕—————💕

Eddie was back in bed for the sixth time today. His limbs like lead. Heart in his stomach. Head pounding, yet the pain made him nearly numb. Nothing and yet everything mattered right now. But he just couldn’t keep standing up.

There was a presence lingering in the doorway of the bedroom. He knew who it was. His darling Steve. Hovering, but not really doing that, just checking in and checking out and growing past concerned into new territory that didn’t even have a word. Part of Steve is screaming to nurture, Eddie’s sure, but he knows that he told Steve to go away. So his presence is stood between worlds, one where Eddie was, and the living room where the rest of the world kept moving. Except, this is their house. And they’ve been married for years. And maybe Eddie’s back to the door is too similar to the first few hangouts after his discharge in 1986.

Maybe he isn’t overreacting, though.

It’s the fourth day of this nothingness. Of sitting up on the mattress, curled into himself, wearing the same clothes. Of not eating and barely going to the bathroom and drinking water because Steve forced him to. Of mourning the loss of Wayne.

He doesn’t know what to do with himself. He’s rotting in his bedroom. Hasn’t cried. Isn’t sure if he can. In his chest is absence, and with that his ability to produce tears seems to have wandered.

He flips over on the bed. Door now visible to him. And sure enough, Steve is there. Outlined by the hallway light. Hair floppy in his face, rumpled pajamas glued to his body, glasses crooked to his nose. He slides a hand from under the blanket, pats Steve’s spot, and lets his palm linger between their pillows.

Steve shuffles in, sits hesitantly on the edge of the mattress, and carefully maneuvers himself under their shared blanket. Turning to be face to face with Eddie, but not nose to nose. Before he can say anything, Eddie places his palm on Steve’s cheek, fingers tangled with the hair around his ear. He’s gotten grayer over the years and his hair is thinner and the same style as it’s been since he was a teen, but his body is softer and gently touched by wrinkles. He’s got the wrinkles that matter—the smile lines, the crows feet, the lines on his forehead from a combination of good surprise and endearing excitement. His own hand wraps around Eddie’s wrist. Fingers loose, just encircling. Eddie wonders if Steve thinks he’s soft, too.

“You don’t have to ask permission to come in here to lay in bed, y’know that?” Eddie croaks. He hasn’t really spoken either. It’s as if grief has cosmically shifted him. And maybe it has. It did to Lucas when he almost lost Max. It did to his dad when his mom died all those many years ago. He doesn’t like this new version of himself.

“Told me to go, so I went,” Steve whispers back. He shrugs, lifting only one shoulder, the blanket subtly brushing his clothes. “Wanted to give you what you needed. And if space was that, then I was gonna give, Eds.”

It’s barely anything, he realizes, to be treated that way. To just be given something so quickly and so easily. To have somebody who’s lenient. He tears up. His palm presses into Steve’s skin, he goes pliant with it, willingly letting Eddie manhandle him. Eddie’s breath shutters. Is this what makes me cry? “Think you’re too good for me, Steve,” he breathes. Because, though he doesn’t really want to acknowledge that insecurity, it’s true. “You’re too good for me and my bullshit right now. I don’t understand you.”

“You’re grieving, Eds,” Steve shoots. Piercing Eddie’s heart with a silver bullet.

“But aren’t you, too?” Eddie shuffles in closer. Their breaths mingle between them. He closes his eyes. Steve’s are so shiny and big and lost and concerned. He aches with everything he’s got. He aches at the idea that Steve has to even deal with his bad breath right now, has to handle this weird episode, has to just take care and be careful. “I know you are,” he mutters, “I heard you crying last night.”

Steve swallows harshly, uneasily. “I was,” he murmurs, “Was looking at our photo albums when I couldn’t sleep. Wayne was really good with Carmen. Made me—I wondered if maybe sending Carmen to Robin and Vickie’s was a good idea. What if she’s mourning Wayne, too?” He presses his thumb into Eddie’s pulse point. “But I wanted to make sure you were okay first. You had him in your life for so long. He was your dad, Eds. Carmen barely remembers her granddad.” Which is, also, unfortunately true. Their daughter won’t remember Wayne. She’ll see photos later in her life and wonder who that stranger is.

A stranger.

There’s a few moments of silence that lull between them. Tense and bubbling. If Eddie placed his ear on the pane of the bedroom window, he’d hear the bustling of cars and people and sirens. The crickets and the grass. All of the world just casually strolling, meanwhile in the world he’s created, he’s rooted to his spot. And he knows that this won’t be the last time he’ll be in this weird world between worlds.

“I’m frightened,” Eddie confesses. The words bursting from him.

“Of what?” Steve asks, his voice quiet and innocent and genuine. And Eddie can’t take it any longer. He pries his eyes open. Tears are already streaming down his face when he does. And he knows he’s a wreck. That his hair is untamed and his stomach is loudly growling and his hands shake. He knows he stinks and that his eyes are both too emotional and dull. Knows how miserable he must seem. And yet, he’s still alive in the face of it all. And so is Steve. This won’t be the last time he’ll be here, he knows. “Of what, Eds?” Steve gently prods.

Eddie takes a gasping, choking breath. The words tumble. “Of losing,” he says first. “Of doing this again and again and again. Our daughter being fifteen or twenty or twenty-three and I still act like I’m six years old and lost my mama. Of—Of the world and its noise when all I want is silence and darkness and my blanket, like I was when I first moved in with Wayne. I’m—“ He takes another heaving breath. Steve’s other palm goes to his chest, pushing softly into his skin. But he ignores it. He can’t even pretend to focus on it right now.

He continues, “I’m frightened that one day I’ll wake up and—One day I’ll wake up to you not with me. With either your brain somewhere else or your body limp and cold. Or I’ll wake up and Robin will be standing over me with tears on her face and her knees knocking into the side table and that’s how I’ll know. 

“I am so afraid that I’ll be back here. But I know that I’m going to. But it’s going to be when you won’t. When you’re gone from me. When you’re either just a bunch of memories. Or you’re a—“ His next breath seizes his throat, makes him tighten his grasp on Steve. Harsh enough to leave indents of fingernails. Steve doesn’t even wince. Just looks straight on. “Don’t be a stranger,” Eddie whimpers. “Please, Steve, promise me you’ll never be a stranger. And that you won’t go without me and that—That I have so much time with you.”

“Eddie, I can’t—“

“Lie to me,” Eddie gasps. “Lie to me. Promise to me by lying. I don’t care. Just—“

Steve brings the hand from Eddie’s chest to his chin. Lifting Eddie’s face to keep their eyes locked. And with every emotion under the sun, Eddie soaks up all that Steve gives, he swears, “I promise that you have so much time left beside me. I promise that I will always know you. That I will always be here. To hold you, to comfort you, to exist with you. I promise, Eddie.” He gives a nod. The same one that he did in the Upside Down. But his eyes don’t say goodbye. They say hello. “I promise you have me,” he whispers.

Eddie nods slowly against his pillow. Deep breaths. His hands still shaking and his stomach empty. “Okay,” he mutters. “Okay, Stevie. Okay.”

He’s brought into Steve’s warmth. His face pillowed in his chest. Arms wrapped around him like a heavier blanket than the one he’s already got. Legs tangled with his. Chin digging into the back of his head. The angle in which he has to arch to fit pains him. Aging sucks. Aging is horrifying. Though, it’s sort of wonderful that after all this time, Steve is just as steadfast, if not more.

“What can I do right now, Eds?” Steve asks, “To take care of you, other than make promises?”

Eddie hums. “Just hold me right now. I missed you too much.”

“Baby,” Steve sighs. “I was just in the living room, you know that.”

“I missed you,” he whispers. “Please stay here. That’s all I need.”

Instead of more words, Steve squeezes them tighter.

Later, they’ll sit in bed. And he will be forced to eat toast and drink water. They’ll watch reruns of Golden Girls. Robin’ll call and talk about the many art projects that their daughter is doing at her home. And for the first time in four days, Eddie will smile at the chaos.

For now, he soaks up the sunlight warmth radiating from Steve.

💕—————💕 If you haven't read my day 26 fic, "In the Fire of the Sun", this fic comes before that one. This is pure foreshadow, sorry. Also apologies for breaking everybody's hearts (either maybe on this one or on the other one I mentioned.) Excited for the last prompt tomorrow, it'll be sweet, I promise (and no, I'm not lying).

[eulasaurus]

My Astrology Observation ²

If you wan repost or re-blog, gimme the credits.

Pisces Rising men: Wanted by many but won't settle on just anyone especially if there is Sagittarius influence.

Chiron conj. Ascendent can make someone feel they are not good enough, they definitely have low self esteem. They probably had a bad childhood or family issues.

Whereas Venus Square Ascendent can make someone attractive but not their type or they may compare themself with others consciously or unconsciously.

A stellium in the 1st House can make someone really confused about themselves, and they're expressions can be seen. They can also fake themselves purposely to test others.

Virgo moon are thorough, they might be very hygienic. Hard workers and logical.

When I say i have my Scorpio Venus and Scorpio Mars conjunction, dude😶 I am very sexual, I was a very sexual individual from a very young age. Although I am a virgin and haven't had my first kiss yet. I am still very sexual and very sexualised by others.

Pisces Venus or Neptune-Venus aspects y'all are deluded about the person y'all in love with for real. They fall for the wrong ones most of the time, please listen to your best friends or family when they say something about your lover or ask them if they're the type you'd go for. Neptune blurs the lines here, so be careful.

A stellium in the 11th house can make someone have a few long term friends like 10+ years. They are very friendly and everyone "thinks" they are their friends but these people don't consider them as friends. They are also the type to test friends in order to determine the "friendship term" If there is any plutonic influence.

Jupiter in Libra people are very selective about their appearance and the appearance of their surroundings. It needs to be aesthetically pleasing.

It's the Sun conjunct Neptune people who are very beautiful. Like they'll have something odd on their face like a big nose or something like a crooked nose but still attract people like moths to a flame.

Cancer big three prolly have body like Sydney Sweeney. They may have a fuller chest, square shaped body and very soft looks.

Asteroid Nemesis(128) is important to talk about. The house and sign it is in can tell you about which area in life you have enemies and which sign 'might' be your enemy.

I have Asteroid Nemesis in the 3rd House of Aries, and let me tell you how much i struggled in school, everyone I know hated me a lot, and they showed it. Whenever I tried to communicate to any of peers they made faces as if they were disgusted. I eventually stopped talking to people even though i wanted to, but people misunderstood every single time. And most of these people who showed their hate were Aries.

[yup-thats-me]

— you're my world ● hwang hyunjin

summary;the hate online makes Hyunjin rethink his relationship with y/n.

pairing; Hyunjin x reader.

warning; online hate.

♡

#protecthyunjin

"We should break up."

The statement from her lover left y/n as still as a statue.

Y/n was out with her friends having a nice quality time. When she came back to her and hyunjin's apartment, she saw Hyun sitting on the couch with his head in his hand. His phone tossed beside him. When she asked what had happened, it was his reply.

Y/n's purse fell from her hand on the carpeted floor. Dropping to her knees, she shook Hyunjin, eyes already glossed over.

"...what? Why?" She spoke barely above a wishper.

A heavy aigh left his pink lips his eyes averting from her questioning ones. "No reason. I just don't have feelings for you anymore."

She shook her head again dismissively. "That is not what's wrong. It was only a week ago we were talking about meeting our parents. I couldn't do something so bad to make you run out of love with me in such a short period of time."

Hyunjin's head turned away from hers, she noted how his eyes locked on the black rectangle screen. "Is that the reason?" She said slowly, getting up to sit beside him on the couch.

Hyunjin's hand found hers, grasping them tightly. "You know, they're not entirely wrong. I'm not good enough for anyone." He confessed. "I don't seem to be the perfect boyfriend. I barely spend enough time with you, always busy with tours and dance practice, come backs and what not. I feel like I'm not good enough to be with you. You deserve someone so much better than me."

Y/n smiled softly, brushing away some stray hair strands away from his angelic face. "You are enough. Enough for me, enough for the Stays. No on can tell you otherwise. You think those dimwits on the Internet are right?"

Hyun hid his face in the crook of y/n's neck sighing heavily. "Nothing in this universe can make you unworthy of the love you recieve from everyone. And certainly nothing can make me not love you, you pabo," She said, running her hair through his locks. A gesture that always calms Hyunjin.

"If you want to leave me, I won't stop you. Its true I haven't treated you right."

Y/n made Hyun look at her by turning his head. "Whatever time I spend with you is equal to heaven to me. I knew what I signed up for when I committed this relationship with you. The paparazzi, the hates online, the rumors, everything along those lines."

She wiped away a stray tear that fell from his eyes, her own eyes glossed over. "I know what they're saying. I know it's hard. But we'll get through this together. You're my world and together, we'll face the world to fight for our love and for you."

She smiled as Hyunjin pulled her in softly for a passionate kiss.

They will face the battle of life together, forever.

#protecthyunjin

♡

[lookinghalfacorpse]

The way that Dream is nothing but a child to doomsday trio is going to haunt my brain !!

Like, imagine

You are young, and you are strong, and you have seen things, had things happen to you, that no one should. You're smart and you will never die in a way that matters, and one day you will know death intimately.

Imagine seeing that !!! Knowing that death will never touch you, that lives are nothing more than sparks on a good day, ants on a bad day, and finding himself caring for one.

I have more thoughts but they're incomprehensible. I adore immortals though

:)

i like to think that doomsday preparations took multiple days.

-----

Dream straightened his back, rolling his shoulders. His cloak (longer and thicker than his usual-- better for enduring the arctic cold) slipped from the sharp edges of his shoulderguard and pooled behind him, ruffling a few maps that he'd discarded there. His mask obscured his face, but judging from the soft rush of breath that left him, he might've yawned.

Philza passed him a mug of tea.

"You can stay the night, you know," Phil stated casually. The boy had been joining him and Techno during daylight hours to plan for the upcoming battle, but he disappeared into the cold each night. Yesterday, he didn't even say goodbye. "Might be easier. You can get a head start in the morning if you don't have to travel." Dream watched him, silent behind his mask. "I have a guest room for you," Phil continued, "Nice and private."

Dream took the mug in both hands, fingers splayed along the ceramic. He was cold. "I appreciate that. Really. But it's, uh... that won't be necessary."

This was a part of being in your early 20s, Techno explained a few days ago. A need for independence yet no life experience to know what it means to be responsible in the first place. All Phil saw, really, was a kid with cold hands.

Phil sat beside him-- or, rather, as close as he could without crumpling a map. "You're making a poor host of me," he replied, lightheartedly.

Dream seemed to ignore him. "What's this?"

"The drink? Ah, it's peppermint tea. I sweetened it a good bit-- it's bitter without. Let me know if it needs more sugar."

Dream nodded softly. He raised a gloved hand up to his head, and it lingered for a moment on the clasp of his mask, but he opted instead to simply tip it upwards to reveal no more than the slant of his jawline and the curve of his lips. A skintight, spandex wrapping covered a lot of neck and chin, but the sliver of flesh that showed was unmarred. Unblemished. He hadn't yet gained any frown lines or smile lines.

"It's good," he said after a small sip, "Thanks."

---

Dream was small in Technoblade's arms. His skin, freshly washed and slightly rosy from the warm water, was decorated by more scars and burns than Phil's ever seen on a living man. A few larger scars spanned his chest, where his ribcage showed behind the folds of his robe. Smaller scars hid along his fingers and forearms. On his face. His calves. His neck. Every inch of skin that was exposed had been violated in one way or another, it seemed.

Half-conscious as he pulled himself back from a seizure, Dream nuzzled into the crook of Techno's elbow. Wilbur used to do that, too, as a newborn.

"Yo, Dream?" Techno asked for the third time.

"Mm?"

"Hey, welcome back, dude. I'm gonna put you on the couch, mm'kay? Floor's cold."

Dream nodded, forcing his eyes to open. They were unfocused and foggy, but alert enough that his gaze successfully landed on some of the items around them. The table, the paintings on the wall. Philza's face.

Dream was shivering. All Phil could see, really, was a kid with cold hands.

"What can I do for you, mate?" Phil asked, staying close as all three of them moved to the couch. This boy wouldn't live long-- no humans do, really-- but without help, he wouldn't even last the night.

Dream tested his jaw, stretching it and chewing at nothing, before he spoke. "Do you still have that.. uh..."

"The peppermint tea? You bet I do."

[sethsclearwater]

ihow about a Seth with reader like grocery shopping and like it’s cute???

"i got it," seth cooed as he grabbed the peanut butter on the top shelf that you were - quite frankly - struggling to reach.

"thank you!" you beamed, taking the jar from him to place in the cart and stepping up on your tip-toes to press a quick kiss to his lips.

seth smiled, pulling you back into his chest for a deeper kiss. "seth!" you squealed, causing him to chuckle against your lips.

"sorry pretty girl," he teased, smiling down at you as he gave your hips a squeeze, "can't help myself sometimes."

you rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips before turning back around to push the cart. seth rested his hands on either side of yours, helping you push the cart from behind.

"so what's left on our list?" he asked after a moment, allowing you to unfold the crumpled-up piece of paper that was your grocery list.

you let out a soft sigh, analyzing it for a moment to see what you missed, "i think we just need peaches."

seth hummed, "peaches?" he asked softly, helping guide you over to the produce section.

you nodded, "i like having them in the apartment," you explained before adding, "they're good midnight snack."

seth chuckled softly at that one, "you're a good midnight snack." he teased, pressing a soft kiss to the crook of your neck.

you giggled, "you need to get it together clearwater," you teased back, "what if we see someone we know!"

you felt his lips curl into a smile against your neck, "then they'd also see how good you're looking right now." he explained, pressing another soft kiss behind your ear.

"you are way too horny to be grocery shopping right now." you responded, rolling your eyes teasingly.

"my point exactly. let's get your peaches and go home." seth pressed another kiss to the crown of your head before tossing the bag of peaches into the cart.

you gasped dramatically at that, "don't throw them! they're gonna be messed up if you do that!" you gigled again, turning around and playfully smacking his bicep.

"babe i'm gonna be messed up if we don't get home in the next 5 minutes." he explained exasperatedly, sliding his hands down to your hips so he could turn you back around and guide you to the checkout lanes.

you giggled, "you're so dramatic you know that?" you asked rhetorically, turning over your shoulder to look up at him as you two waited in line.

"i am most definitely not being dramatic right now." he explained, subtly pressing his hips to yours to show you what he meant.

you rolled your eyes, cheeks heating up to a bright pink, "okay okay we just need to check out and then we can go home." you giggled, as he smiled victoriously.

sure enough, as soon as the two of you got home you quickly figured out that he was not, in fact, being dramatic about how desperate he was for you.

part 2 linked here

[sukunasun]

I am OBSESSED with Spider-Man Suguru …. YOUR MIND

he's such an ominous figure when he's got the mask on but turns into a nerdy grump when he takes it off. kinda wanna see him in thick-rimmed glasses and sweatpants, lazing around and recuperating from his latest mission. sleep deprived and a little weary, the languid motion of him tossing and turning in a creaky bed made up of duvets and pillows he's stacked strategically, covers pulled over the bird nest atop his head. doesn't want to think about detangling on his off day.

but you like the suit. always had. in another life, you see him crouched on a rooftop, silhouette highlighted by a neon sign, rain pelting against him. how menacing. suguru's got angst brooding within him. withholding the chance to move on, or rather he doesn't intend to. so what if he's become obsessive, talking to screens and dreaming about you. modeling his holographic companions after your figure, your face, your voice. spent forever getting it just right. coding a line or two or a hundred and changing the input repeatedly. the first draft appears before him then. not too nice, not too mean. perfection glowing before him with the same smile you wear, flittering over his shoulder, snuggled up to his cheek, fitting in the crook of his palm as you give him updates on everything. "they're having a sale at the supermarket," says virtual assistant you, and he actually does make a trip there. buying himself a nice box of stock for dinner before he realizes that it's the first time he's actually made himself a meal. a year late but still, it's better than takeout or vending machine natto.

although, he would still prefer a tangible, physical you that isn't made up of glitching pixels. to caress skin and flesh, kiss the very breath from you and feel it graze his own lips. puffing out gasping cries and guttural moans, exhaling his name in exaltation, he'll swallow them up.

he's had a bad day. you can tell because he's abandoned the hot meal and even hotter shower for this. storming towards you with heavy steps and his heavy breaths puffing through his mask. why should you fear spiderman. hero, and saviour of the world. that he's been teasing you, taunting you. so what if he's got your wrists tied up around a tangle of webs. only after he's pulled from you a scream and the third orgasm of that night do you wonder.

spandex serves its purpose when it's hugging muscled arms so strong, bending and straining tight as he cages in, looms above you, his weight steady you can't help but to surrender to how good the pressure feels. the tilt of his head is condescending, enough to show you he isn't impressed, "you made a mess," suguru doesn't even try to be sympathetic. merely stating it as if it was all your fault for squirting all over his oh-so-precious suit. you'd question him on the occasion at hand, he'd been the one who wanted you to come undone on his dick.

legs locked tight behind him, his cock slides in just that bit further, deeper. a surprised squeal slipping past your lips. "easy now," you used to tease whenever he's gotten too eager, too hungry. but you're at a loss for words when the roles are reversed here. especially when the sharp point of his fangs skim over a patch of skin he's come to know as one of your most sensitive spots. right where it won't hurt you too much, he determines where they should sink in and leave behind no more than two perfectly formed puncture wounds, no bruising, no blood. well, maybe just a little, the iron tang he laps at is addictive. is alive.

[fountainpenguin]

"It was a cup of good intentions... a tablespoon of one big mess! A dash of overreaction, and I assume you know the rest..." (x)

---

New Dog's Life chapter today! ~ 3rd Life series fan-season

Chapter 28 - “Slow Burn (Bdubs, Scar, Charlotte)”

❤️ Read on AO3

💛 Start from Chapter 1

💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics

---

Scott needs medical attention. Scar and SnifferMyFeet do their best to offer it... even if it means putting one of them on the line. Meanwhile, Bdubs and Grian discuss carrots and vacation plans.

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

---

BdoubleO100 - Phantom

Status: Riled up

Captain of New Star Station's phantom hybrid flock

💙  🧡  💚

"Aha!" Bdubs grabs Grian by the wrists, yanking him forward. He pulls him, twisting him through a dopey dance in the kitchen. Grian yelps, socked feet twisting and gripless, and that just makes it better. "You want to be cringe and free!"

"I could do without the cringe," he protests, flapping his wings as Bdubs spins and prances with him, "but I do wish for love."

"Well, being truly known's the same thing, isn't it?" He swings Grian around to the other side. Grian squawks, pixels thickening and flipping over in his face. Purple flecks glitter underneath. He may as well've been run through a storm drain and flushed out the other side. "Tell you what! I'll love Etho if you love Mumbo, deal? Junglemate's honor!"

"Bdubs, that's not a deal."

"'Course it's a deal! It goes both ways; that defines it. Whadaya think? You wanna seal it?"

"… Yes."

"Let's do it, then." And he laughs, 'cuz it feels so good to love. It's what captains do, you know. When all hope is lost, look to the captain. Put all your faith in 'em, even when it looks like they're steering the wrong way. Captains always guide you back towards the light. Didn't you know Minecrafters like to move in circles? It's a way of stalking prey. "Always, and 'til the end!"

Grian catches a grip on the floor. "Bdubs? Bdubs, I hate to ask, but… What was the reason? Why didn't being romantic work with Etho? I mean, what made you feel like being queerplatonic partners made sense? How did you know?"

Bdubs' tail twitches at the end. Mossy shawl is crooked now, plushy bits tucked too tight against his neck. He pulls it around again. "I think being romantic would've worked a while, but this is what felt right. Just better this way long-term. Now, enough about Etho-"

"Do you ever regret it?"

Wow. Parrot stereotypes are true, then. Once they get their talons in something, they latch on tight and don't like letting go. Of course, that's mostly when they're dead. It's not his business, but Grian's watching, and Grian's a less experienced player, and he came from another world. Bringing him into the rest of the flock and teaching him things is what a captain does. "No? I don't regret choosing Etho."

"I meant the QPR," Grian says impatiently, taking his bar stool again. "I mean, that's a big conversation to have, right? And once you say it, it's hard to walk back and change your mind. I mean, what happens if you feel ready to be romantic?"

'Ready,' huh? Geez. Tell me you really don't know what's up with me and Etho without telling me you don't know anything about us.

Mm, scattered possibilities on how to answer that one. It's like a deck of cards strewn across the table- stat poker at its worst. Bdubs gazes back with his tail gently waving.

"Is this about you?" he asks in easy deflection. Grian's wings jump. "Communication's always gonna be your best bet. I think if you wanna change up your lifestyle, you can tell your partner straight, so long as you realize they might end things with you there- You get me?" He gestures to his wrist-comm then. "I mean, Brittney and I swing different ways all the time. We just let each other know when something comes up or we wanna see someone else."

Brittney's good. Doesn't expect him home too much; she knew what she was marrying into. He was already captain of New Star by the time they woke up with shared rings.

… It's nice though, huh? For the first time, he really eases his shoulders back, no longer compensating for heavy wings. Martyn's acting captain tonight. It's not his first time, though it usually doesn't last for long.

He may have burned his wing pixels off, but other than fly, Bdubs can do whatever he wants. As far as Martyn knows, he finished the delivery route. And the fact that he didn't isn't his problem tonight. If Martyn's too busy flirting with Cleo to catch an insubordinate flockmate in the act, well, consider this a lesson learned. He still glitters with white sparks wherever his bare skin faces upwards, like on the backs of his hands.

I can do… whatever I want. Isn't that something? Under the full moon, even! Usually he'd be bare-chested by now, wrestling Martyn while a crowd looks on. If Martyn enacts a challenge, anyway. He sometimes likes to. Bdubs' fingers brush the red feather hanging at his chest. He didn't give much consideration to wearing it. He just played along. This is Yes, And? This is fun. And he's out here doing whatever he wants.

Grian looks on, curious as ever. "I mean, you want him, don't you?"

"Do I ever! And got 'im right here!" (Not here here, but you know how it is under the wing).

"Aren't you disappointed?" Grian asks, foot twisting against the bar stool's little foot rest. He slouches against the counter. Maybe birds just like to perch on things. "I mean, you can't carrot with Etho now, if you're queerplatonic."

What? "Yeah I can." And this time he's more firm about it: "Etho and I can do whatever we want. Don't look at me! It's like you and Mumbo spawning a spark together when you're not dating. Raising kids together is fine." His eye twitches even as he says it. See, that's where the problem started.

Bdubs isn't really looking to be a dad right now. Right now, the flock comes first. He's saving his energy for when he, like Impulse and Jewel, takes his beloved's kids under his wing. Well, the players and cameras synced up to those kids, anyway. Four's a lot. Two's a lot, and it prob'ly won't be much longer before they're here- They're getting big. He gets emotion bleed of 'em on the regular, when they sit themselves in Daddy's lap or hang on his shoulders to watch him play.

Raising four kids someday ('cuz who doesn't take the cameras under their wing too?) is gonna burn him out. That's when he's gonna be so weak, Martyn takes his place as flock captain. Heck, Bdubs will throw the fight if he has to. The flock comes first, and once he's got his own, his time as captain's gonna run dry. Brittney and the kids are gonna be his flock then.

That's the schism between him and Etho, see, which is none of Grian's freakin' business. But Bdubs can't see himself raising server-restricted sparks this late in life when his real, Between dimension family is gonna get a whole lot bigger in a couple hundred years. He doesn't need babies. And Etho, who huddles up alone more often than he should, wants a litter he can lick and snuggle and hold.

It didn't end their friendship. It's just dangerous to dance around. They agreed a long time ago carrots were off the table. Bdubs is pretty sure Etho's never gotten his love hearts up before, and that makes him all the more unpredictable. Too wild. Unrestrained. It's just not worth the risk, 'cuz if an accident happened, Etho would whine and plead for him to stay. Void, he loves Etho. But accidents come easy, and Joel's living proof of it- Hermes is just one example…

Bdubs does not talk to Etho about Joel. Or Cleo, for that matter. Yeah, he'll play up his role as kid in the Clocker family, but he sheds it like a snakeskin when he's not in the mood. Except for "family dinner nights," where he's expected (and MCC watch parties by extension), he doesn't roleplay Clocker stuff in Between. Not in the teasing, flowery way that Etho, Scar, and Cleo do. On-server is full of emotion bleed- Scar got it right when he picked a puppet skin this season.

But Between is where he's real, and he's not gonna waste it roleplaying as the lowest member in the pecking order. Except for when it's fun.

[Full chapter on AO3 - Links at top]

[yuwumeniji]

Eyy Yuwu!!!!🍌 Thanks for your great writings! Could I request headcanons about Luxiem when they're drunk? Such as, who would be the affectionate, melancholic, can handle the drink(s) well, or the confesser of truths? Thanks <3

Luxiem as Drunkards

WARNING: Please remember that I am writing about Luxiem based on their characters online and not of the people behind their vtuber avatars, thank you!

EXTRA NOTES: i am not counting the drunk streams each boy did LMAO

GENERAL

Again, not counting their drunk streams (ok kinda, but i didn't watch them fully)

maybe kinda nsfw in the sense that there is h*nd h*ld*ng (flushge)

in my 19 years of living i never drank alcohol so......... soooo.......................... lmao

proofreader? hardly even know 'er!

MORE BELOW THE CUT

⊰᯽⊱┈───── ✧ ─────┈⊰᯽⊱

IKE EVELAND

a talkative and somewhat flirty drunk ; a lightweight(?)

he drinks often, especially after submitting the final draft of his manuscript as a celebration of "boy-did-i-procrastinate-on-this-thing-but-it-turned-out-great!"

he usually drinks with caution but tonight's manuscript was a big one - he deserves it

THE GAP MOE????

like he's flying off tables, he's dancing like a madman and oh my god get down from there PLEASE

he also goes around flirting with everything that breathes

like "hey baby do you want to get a drink together ;)"

but then he starts talking about how much he hates his shitty editors and how his next manuscript is

he then goes on rants about nonsensical things to how there's a rock in his left heel, how lukewarm the glass is and how come you have such a pretty face???

please take him home before he talks you ear off

LUCA KANESHIRO

the man of sex ; somewhat heavyweight(?)

for a mafia boss, drinking is second nature, especially with the people he's been meeting - however, he's in such a good mood tonight that he got a little reckless

picture; a secluded bar with just you, him and the bar staff - it's the perfect noire setting

if you think ike is flirty when drunk, wait til you meet drunk!luca

he's slinging out pickup lines left and right

but they're not like "aha are you a photographer? because i could picture you and i together ;)"

THEYRE THE ADULT ONES (eyes emoji)

he's also quite handsy, grabbing at others left and right and resting his face in the crook of your neck as you guys sit on a couch or something

actually he's the kind to rub his face in your shoulder like a big cat, it's kinda cute (?)

he does whine a little and gets a bit pouty if you try to push away

if anyone from the mafia family saw this, i wonder what the outcome would be?

MYSTA RIAS

a big baby drunkard who cries over the tiniest things ; the lightest lightweight out of the boys

he goes out drinking whenever cases don't go his way - the trial was a bummer, the criminal got loose and did he have to redo the case from square one because a variable was missing??

so pretty often

lets face it, despite his silliness, he tends to keep up a stoic face in front of everyone so the minute he winds down and has a swig of beer, he's already bawling his eyes out

"BUT WHAT IF THAT CASE I SOLVED WAS WRONG??" "WHY ME??" "WHY IS THE PANEL ON THE WALL A SLIGHTLY DIFFERENT SHADE OF BROWN IN COMPARISION TO THE REST UEUEUE"

actually, please never give him alcohol because he'll start crying to the point you wonder if he's got enough water in his body for that

SHU YAMINO

a very sleepy drunk ; world time heavyweight champion (it is difficult to get him drunk, also he's the most responsible out of them - he's actually a lightweight too)

shu doesn't drink. well, doesn't drink often BUT he does if he's out for social circumstances, so he was always cautious of his alcohol intake.

tonight was a little different! just a celebration between the two of you and it's at home anyways, so what's the issue here? well, many things

for starters, you would never have thought that he would start babbling nonsensical things - usually, he approaches every situation with logic, so the fact he starts talking about unicorns and whatnot is a big sign that "oh boy, he's drunk"

secondly, he could barely keep a conversation - he starts dozing off in between words and only hiccuping or accidentally banging his head on the table (because his head slipped from his hand) would wake him up

oh yeah did i mention he has a bad case of the hiccups

VOX AKUMA

also another baby ; a ...h...heavyweight??

vox is another social drinker who usually watches what he drinks - i mean, you wouldn't want to slip up to others that you were actually alive for 500+ years or whatever, right?

tonight, he decided to let loose a little y'know, feelin a little vulnerable rn

ok when i say baby, i meant like literally a baby

he's crying, he's whining and "y/nnnn~~~ uppies!!!"

but he also drinks whenever he gets down in the dumps... like REALLY down in the dumps

he's the kind of baby drunkard who would sob as he tells everything and everyone who would listen his whole life story

i dont expect you to lift a grown demon, but i'll give you props if you do i guess??

[starry-night-author]

Prompt #23

cw: blood

Hero was the first one awake, she always was.

Slipping through the huge, quiet, empty house, she couldn't help but feel like one of the undead herself. It was late in the year and cold, and the blanket she'd wrapped around herself trailed long behind her like a cloak.

The sun was just setting, the last violent dregs of red, orange, and yellow streaking through the sky. The huge elevated back patio was bathed in an orange light, Hero sat on one of the porch chairs to watch the light disappear from the sky like she always did.

She'd given up her diurnal schedule quite willingly, but sunsets were something she refused to let go of. It was harder now, with the sun going down earlier in the crisp autumn, but she always made sure to wake up in time.

The cold around her promised a frigid night, and Hero pulled her blanket tighter around herself and shivered. Her breath wasn't showing in the air just yet, but she knew by the time the sun went down, it would be.

She was just getting settled when there came a creak from behind her, a swish of the large sliding glass door that led out onto the patio opening. Hero twisted around to see who it was, no one in the house would be awake at this hour.

Villain squinted in the dying light, ducking down so she was beneath the line of direct sunlight that stretched horizontally across the house. She closed the sliding door behind her, almost hissing in discomfort.

"Oh, I didn't think you'd get up!" Hero exclaimed.

Villain moved toward her, being sure to keep out of the direct sunlight that beamed over her head. "Woke up too early," she grumbled, coming to sit next to Hero. "It's too bright."

Hero draped the blanket around her partner, Villain was quick to cuddle in next to her, still wanting to keep out of the light. She leaned most of herself on Hero, pulling the blanket around her and shivering into the crook of Hero's neck.

"You could've waited until the sun was down," Hero pointed out, kissing her forehead.

Villain didn't answer immediately, only cuddling closer, cold fingers finding Hero's warm ones and gripping them tightly. She didn't look directly at the sunset, but rather watched the red clouds drift by overhead.

"Wanted to spend some time with you before it got too dark," Villain mumbled, turning to bury most of her face in Hero's chest. "'M hungry, I want to go out tonight."

"You can't," Hero reminded her. "Superhero's been organizing those hunts, they'll catch you."

Villain growled, low and annoyed. "They won't catch me."

"They will," Hero stressed. "And I don't think I could get you out this time."

Villain growled again. "How long until the hunts stop?"

"They're planned to last until next week."

This growl was more a snarl, and Villain flopped dejectedly down into Hero's lap. Hero chuckled, petting through her partner's hair.

"Don't laugh at me."

"Sorry."

Hero looked back up at the dying light, her hand still absently running through Villain's hair. "Don't think I can last that long," it was always easy to read when Villain was hungry, she got grumpier, spoke less and in less complete sentences. Villain couldn't have lasted the week, and Hero couldn't have lasted the week of her behaving this way either. "Might start biting things."

"Like what?" Hero asked teasingly, leaning back. "Me?"

Villain turned her head to look up at her. "You're serious?"

Hero hesitated. Villain had only fed off of her once before, and then had overreacted afterwards when Hero had felt woozy. She said she'd never bite her again- but clearly that had now been forgotten in light of her current hunger.

"Hm... maybe." Hero scratched Villain's head the way she liked, and Villain leaned into it, smiling faintly. Her brilliantly white fangs glistened in the glow of the sunset. "I trust you."

Villain sat up. "Please, yes, only enough to get me to next week, I promise."

"I trust you," Hero said again, holding Villain's chin so she could lean in and kiss her gently.

"Good." Villain's red eyes were light brightly warm light from the sun. She leaned in to kiss Hero again, pressing against her lips, before moving to the corner of her mouth, then her jaw, then just below her ear.

Hero's breath hitched as a blush moved across her face, she was fully aware of exactly how this would feel. Warmth bloomed in her stomach, her hot breath now becoming visible in the air around her.

As Villain continued her kisses turned more to nipping, sharp fangs brushing against Hero's skin. Not biting, not yet- but enough to promise it.

Hero's hand found Villain's once more, and she gripped it tightly.

"Nervous?" Villain murmured against her shoulder.

"It's- it's not going to hurt, is it?" She couldn't remember if it had last time.

"Only for a second," Villain promised. She nipped harder at Hero's skin, and the crime stopper gasped. "Only for a second."

There came the swish of the sliding glass door from behind them, and the two of them both sat up, twisting around. Hero's heart was pounding as if she'd just been caught doing something forbidden- and perhaps she was. Her jacket had been pulled down to reveal her shoulder, the teeth marks left there by Villain outlined neatly in the sun behind it.

But it was just Supervillain, standing in the doorway and squinting at them. The sun had gone down enough that she didn't have to duck to be out of its light. "What's going on?"

They didn't answer.

Supervillain stepped closer. "Villain- I thought you said you wouldn't bite her again!"

Supervillain herself had flat out refused to ever bite Hero, not wanting to run the risk of taking too much. "Besides, I thought we were going out tonight."

"Superhero's organizing vampire hunts, they're going until next week." Hero explained quickly, defending Villain. "Villain was just going to have enough to make it until then."

"I'm sure she could make it without feeding off of you." Supervillain came to stand behind the cushioned outdoor couch the two were sitting on, leaning down to kiss Hero's forehead.

"I suggested it," Hero told her. "I don't mind."

"You're sure?"

"I trust her."

"I don't think I could make it," Villain piped up. "If you wanted my input."

"Oh hush." Supervillain kissed her forehead as well. "It's been even longer since I've fed and I'm doing just fine."

"You're stronger than me." Villain leaned forward, resting her forehead against Hero's shoulder. "Now can we continue?"

"Oh by all means," Supervillain walked around to the front of the couch, flicking her hands dismissively as she sat down on Hero's other side. "Just act like I'm not here."

"You could... um, feed off of me too." Hero had never much liked that phrasing.

"You want both of us?" Villain sat up.

Hero blushed. "Well, a-as long as you know where to stop I don't see the issue. Y'know, just enough to help both of you until the hunts stop."

Supervillain thought. "If we were careful... I don't know, Hero. You'd trust us that much?"

"Of course," Hero moved to adjust the collar of her jacket so more of her neck was exposed on either side.

"Let me help," Supervillain's voice was suddenly much lower, more sultry. Her hand landed at Hero's throat, fingers toying with the zipper for a moment before pulling it down.

On Hero's other side Villain went right back to kissing at her jaw, and Supervillain pulled Hero's face to hers to kiss her lips as she adjusted Hero's jacket.

Hero sighed against Supervillain's lips, and she felt the criminal smile. Opening her eyes, she was met with Supervillain's half-lidded gaze, red eyes seeming to glow in the darkening red night.

Jacket pulled most of the way down her shoulders, Hero's neck was perfectly exposed to both of her vampire partners. Villain's teeth gently pinched her neck, but she didn't bite yet. Supervillain's mouth trailed down Hero's jaw, slowly moving to the place between Hero's neck and shoulder.

Villain bit first.

Sinking her teeth unexpectedly into Hero's neck the crime stopper gasped at the pain- which faded almost as soon and as suddenly as it'd come. Hero's gasp was released as a groan, heat coursing through her as Villain properly attached herself to her neck.

Supervillain was rushing back to Hero's lips almost before the groan left her, kissing her and running her thumb over her cheek. "Sshhh-shh, it'll fade in a second."

That's when Villain started to suck, and Hero's head would've fallen back if Supervillain wasn't holding it up. Hero whined, eyes drifting shut, and she heard Supervillain chuckle.

"You're so pretty when you blush," Supervillain murmured. As much as she wanted to focus on her words it was difficult to do so when Villain was licking and sucking at her neck. "All that blood rushing through your face- I could watch you for hours."

Supervillain let go of her face and Hero's head fell back to rest on the couch cushions. Hero could feel her licking her neck for a moment- before she bit down too.

There came the flash of pain- before that faded and Supervillain was sucking away. Hero moaned, all she could do was gasp for air as the heat spread throughout her.

Villain's hand trailed beneath her jacket, resting just over her heart, feeling the pounding organ. Hero shivered at her cold touch, then whined again as Villain's sharp nails pricked her skin. It was as if she wanted to claw her heart out, to feel the thing that pushed the delicious blood all throughout her body.

A drop of blood managed to escape Supervillain, running down Hero's collarbone and nearly dripping onto her jacket. Supervillain was quick to follow it, licking a strip back up to her neck before biting down again.

Hero moaned once more. "Supervilla-ain-"

At the same time she could feel Villain getting more ravenous, shifting to bite harder down on Hero's neck. Her nails began gently petting Hero's chest, and Hero shivered again.

This felt amazing. Hero was sure it was something in the vampire's bite that made it this pleasurable, and she most definitely wasn't complaining. Their biting, their sucking, their touching- she didn't want it to end.

Hero wanted to give it all to them, wanted them to bleed her dry until they had everything they needed. She would do anything for them, beg them to just use her. She was theirs to do with what they pleased, and that was everything she could ask for.

The two vampires pulled away suddenly and simultaneously, they could feel just how much they were draining Hero and knew when to stop. They left Hero still gasping and internally begging, head fallen back on the couch and her neck and shoulders a mess of blood.

"You're delectable," Villain breathed. Hero smiled faintly. Her earlier lust for them was already fading, she was suddenly much more grateful that they hadn't taken all of her blood rather than pleading for them to take more.

Supervillain lifted her head, Hero's eyes opened and she nearly groaned again. Supervillain's face was a mess- her chin and once dazzling teeth now coated in Hero's blood.

Supervillain kissed her- and Hero had to admit there was something enticing about tasting her own blood in Supervillain's mouth. Villain, never one to be left out, began leaving bloody kisses along Hero's neck.

At last, Supervillain drew back. "Thank you, dearest."

"Yes," Villain pressed a quick kiss against Hero's lips. "Thank you."

"N-no problem." Hero was still trying to catch her breath, still trying to calm down. "We- we could do that more often if you guys need."

Supervillain smiled, and Hero flushed once more at the sight of her bloody teeth. "We'll see. Now let's get you cleaned up."