#redacted fics

[cat-arsenal]

Hold Me Like a Grudge (Gavin x Lasko Royal AU) Ch. 8

Shopping not-date! This is where it starts getting horny. I'm picturing Lasko's meal as a curry type thing, but writing about them being thirsty in public was more important than food talk.

Wrapped in a combination of his old clothes and daemon-made silk, Lasko leaves the castle grounds for the first time since arriving, arm-in-arm with the King of Desiderium. People in the market greet Gavin by name, and inquire politely about about his new "friend." Lasko blushes every time. He can practically hear the quotation marks.

"This is Lasko," Gavin replies, looking at Lasko affectionately. "He's been keeping me company, but rest assured, it's all very platonic." Lasko ducks his head and laughs. He knows Gavin is lying--they've done plenty of flirting, after all--but not to what extent. It's not like they've actually done anything beyond flirt.

They go to the engineering-slash-artisan shop first, where Lasko is poked and measured and asked questions ranging from how he lost the leg to what sort of design he'd like for the prosthetic. It makes his head spin a bit, but Gavin promises that the rest of the market won't be as stressful.

"We'll have it brought up to the castle when it's finished!" the artist calls, waving as they leave.

"Look here," Gavin says, steering Lasko toward a display of rings and necklaces, all glittering in the afternoon sun.

"A jeweler?" Lasko asks. Gavin winks.

"I did promise to get you something pretty."

"You--that--w-we were joking!"

"I never joke about jewelry, Lasko," Gavin says seriously. Then he grins and nudges Lasko toward the tent like a duck nudged toward water. Lasko goes, begrudgingly. "Pick something you like."

"I-I don't know what I like," Lasko mutters, arms crossed as he looks. "I never really...I haven't worn anything like this before." It's all strange and beautiful and too much, too fancy, too big and bright and obvious. That's the idea of jewelry, right? To be seen? But Lasko has spent his life trying not to be seen.

Gavin appears at his side, warm and soft. "If you're really uncomfortable with me getting you something, or you don't find something you like, that's okay." His voice is low and gentle, and Lasko leans into him. "You don't have to like jewelry, or being spoiled," Gavin continues, "but will you try this one on for me?"

Lasko turns to look at the necklace in Gavin's hands. It's silver, a thinner chain than most of the others, with a small blue gem. It's lovely in a subtle way, and Lasko finds himself turning around and pulling his hair out of the way.

Gavin secures the necklace, the warring sensations of cool metal and warm fingers making Lasko's skin prickle. He looks in the little mirror next to the displays, and is taken aback by what he sees.

After everything, it's still him. Same body, same face, same Lasko. But he looks healthier, somehow, more comfortable in his own skin. The shadows under his eyes are almost gone, and his hair, nearly shoulder-length, is starting to curl. He had forgotten what it looked like long. His mismatched outfit is nice, faded earth tones overlaid with bright pastels. The pendant hangs just over his heart. A thoughtful, handsome incubus peers over his shoulder.

He touches the pendant, voice failing. Gavin smiles.

"You like it?"

"Yes."

"Good. It's almost as pretty as you." Gavin slaps down a few coins and starts to walk away, leaving Lasko sputtering.

"Gavin!"

They window shop for a while, Lasko fascinated by the different items for sale, hand returning to the necklace often. Eventually, his eyes are drawn to a clothing rack.

"I do need a new jacket," he murmurs. Then he looks sharply at Gavin, who raises his hands innocently. "I will be paying for my own jacket, alright?"

"Yes, sir," Gavin chirps. Lasko snorts, turning his attention to the rack. He chooses a jacket that splits the difference between his sharp-but-plain military coat and the form-over-function fabrics Gavin and his staff wear. It's sleek and sturdy, with delicate embroidery along the sleeves and shoulders.

He is momentarily concerned about money when he goes to check out, but the clerk cheerfully informs him that they take any currency because as demons, they don't particularly need it. It's more of a hobby than a necessity for most of them; they like the different coins and papers, and will trade them with other daemons to add to their collections, or with humans in exchange for human-made things (including energy.)

"Don't see Dahlian coin often," the clerk observes with a grin. "Careful. You'll be popular around here." Lasko smiles nervously, thanks them, and scurries back to Gavin.

"I'm buying lunch," Lasko announces, "since you bought the necklace and prosthetic. And everything else," he adds under his breath. Gavin smirks.

"As you wish. Here, I'll show you the restaurants."

They choose a cafe-style place with a "secret" back patio that everyone certainly knows about. They seem to have it to themselves, though, and Lasko is grateful.

Not because he wants to be alone with Gavin, or anything! But the trip had made him tired, both of movement and people, and he needs a moment's peace as much as he needs a meal.

"Order whatever you like," he tells Gavin, who smiles, chin in hand.

"Thank you, Precious." Lasko shivers against his will. "But I don't usually eat food."

"Oh." Lasko knew that. Of course he knew that. They have meals together at least a few times a week, and Gavin rarely actually eats any of it. Somehow, in the hustle and bustle, it had slipped his mind. "I-I just thought you might. This time."

Lasko awkwardly orders his own food, then stares at his hands in his lap.

"You know what I eat," Gavin says softly. It isn't a question. There's an edge to his voice, dangerous and enticing, but no less kind than usual. "You read the book. But you knew even before that, didn't you?"

"Yes," Lasko replies, mouth dry.

"How much did you already know about incubi?"

"A-as much as anyone," Lasko hedges. "I know that you're rare. And powerful. That you feed on, um, on s-sexual energy."

"Mmhmm." Gavin's eyes trail up and down, lingering on Lasko's lips. "And do you know how we feed?"

Lasko sputters, face hot.

"W-what do you mean how? O-o-of course I know how, but that, that's, it's j-just sex, isn't it?" Gavin hums, terribly amused.

"Sex is the typical avenue, yes. But it's not the only way." Lasko perks up despite himself. "We don't need to be involved to get a meal. If we're nearby when humans are 'getting to know each other,' we can feed off of that. Or if one human is getting to know themself." He raises his eyebrows, and Lasko is rapt. "It doesn't even have to be physical activity. Desperate, unfulfilled desire makes a pretty good appetizer."

Lasko chokes on spit, and Gavin laughs before reaching over to rub his back.

"I'm sorry for teasing you," he says.

"No y-you're not," Lasko coughs, but he isn't mad. Not really. Not with Gavin smiling at him so endearingly and squeezing his shoulders.

The food arrives, and Lasko digs in, again amazed by the taste. After he's eaten a bit, he sighs, and chances a look at Gavin, who is still watching with flattering/nerve-wracking interest.

"You know," he drawls, "I think I would like some food."

"Oh! Sh-should I call the server--?"

"No, that's alright. Can I have a bite of yours?"

Oh. Oh.

Lasko is definitely sweating.

He could say no. He could get Gavin his own food, or hand him the fork and plate, or tell him to kick rocks, and Gavin would back off. Laugh and pretend it's all a joke and move on. He would let Lasko out of the bubble of their game, and think no less of him, if he didn't want to play.

But he does want to. Fuck, does he want to.

"Y-yeah. Here." He scoops a bit of the food onto the fork, then presents it to Gavin, who parts his perfect Cupid's bow lips to accept the bite with an exaggerated "mmm." Lasko watches his throat when he swallows, and hopelessly tries to keep his thoughts in check.

"Thank you," Gavin hums, and Lasko can't help but notice a bit of rice stuck just at the corner of his mouth. He could stop. He could ignore it. He could turn back to his plate and be done, but he doesn't want to. Fuck.

"You have a little--here, I-I'll get it." He reaches over, cupping Gavin's cheek and collecting the rice on his thumb. Gavin grips Lasko's wrist and holds eye contact while he takes Lasko's thumb into his mouth, brushing teeth and tongue along the pad before releasing it with a grin.

Lasko swallows. Gavin presses two kisses to his wrist before letting him go. He lets his hand drop to the table, heart pounding, food all but forgotten.

"Full?" Gavin asks brightly. Lasko nods dumbly, and Gavin smiles. "Me, too."

They walk back to the castle in near silence, fingers tangled together, and Lasko takes a long, cold shower before bed.

[valtsv]

my main advice for writing an enemies to lovers relationship is to resist the urge to make the characters' loathing and attraction mutually exclusive opposing forces. it's okay if they're getting weirdly into it and having Thoughts whilst also sincerely wanting to kill each other with hammers.

[thebookbutterfly]

fanfiction isn’t enough, I need to chew on him

[anna-scribbles]

chapter cards for thirteen: november - april

read on ao3

[zozo-01]

"i thought you said you never get cold." "shut up, collins." "you love me, darlin'." "i'm a lawyer, we're incredible liars when we want to be."

another beautiful commission done by the incredible @andr0leda!! my beloved darlin' is ten seconds away from riding her beloved cowboy!!

[bacchuschucklefuck]

gukgak specifically from my typing (man w/ three jobs & a creeping sense of dread)

[mblue-art]

this man. ..

(inspo) (og meme)

[sincerelywhistler]

can I come home to you?

A commissioned piece for @ejunkiet to pair with her GORGEOUS Porter fic “can I come home to you?” featuring her Treasure design🤍

GO READ IT GO GIVE IT KUDOS GOGOGO-

[formosusiniquis]

When Mike Wheeler, red faced and still faintly tear stained, asks him how he knew he liked both Steve doesn’t know how to tell him it was his sister.

Before Nancy Wheeler it had only been boys. Before Nancy Wheeler Steve had been sure he was gay and knew well enough to keep it to himself; dating around enough to earn himself a protective reputation. Before Nancy Wheeler there’d been Marcus Summers, from the baseball team, during freshman year. Steve had gone to every game, and had been forced to make up excuses about schoolwork and his other commitments when asked why he hadn’t tried out for himself. Before Nancy Wheeler there’d been Tommy Hagan. The summer between seventh and eighth grade had been very kind to Tommy, he was sunkissed and boy next door sweet, Steve had wanted to hold his hand and count the freckles across the bridge of his nose. 

Before Nancy Wheeler there’d been his first love, a boy who only visited one summer, the year Steve turned ten. His name had changed every time they hung out but he’d favored E’s. Eli, Emmett, Elliott, Eric, Excalibur, Excelsior, and once for about an hour Wayne. His hair brushed his chin in pretty brown curls and his big brown eyes were always bright with excitement. He always got storm off mad when any of the other boys they’d played with that summer said he was acting like a girl, E would run off to the woods and Steve would always follow. E always came up with the best games anyway, he didn’t like playing soccer or HORSE or anything else with rules that couldn’t be bent; he preferred imagination games where they were knights or wizards. He didn’t laugh when Steve said he always liked playing house, but never wanted to be the dad because why would he want to be someone who never wanted to spend any time with his kids. E who, while insisting on being called Samwise all day, was his first kiss.

Cause he knows what Mike wants to hear. He’s seen the way Mike and Will have danced around each other since the last portal closed. He’s heard the things Mike has said to and about Will. He’s heard all about the week that Will was in the Upside Down. He’s heard all about the summer of ‘85. He’s heard all about the final off again that seems to officially mark the end of Mike and El romantically. He knows that Mike wants him to say that he’d never even thought about boys before he met Eddie. That there’s just something special about Eddie that makes him want to give up his lady killing ways. That Eddie was different. That it was okay that he was having these scary new thoughts, maybe Will was just an exception.

And Steve doesn’t know how to have that conversation. When he realized he liked both it was a relief, that maybe he could have something normal and wouldn't have to spend his life lying or hiding. 

But Eddie was different. Eddie was special. Eddie was probably it for Steve which is scary in a different way that he’s not ready to touch yet -- not when it’s only been three months.

There’s never been another girl since Nancy Wheeler, not really

There will never be another boy after Eddie Munson.

So he tries to help, as best he can. It’s easier with Eddie there, not quite dozing against his shoulder -- the kid’s emergencies always seem to come so late at night these days. “When I was ten, there was a boy whose name kept changing who decided prince charming should get to kiss his faithful knight. And when I was sixteen, your sister-”

Mike’s goodwill diminishes quickly as his sister gets introduced to the conversation.

“Stevie,” Eddie says. It’s not an admonishment for bringing up Nancy. It’s awestruck and watery. “You remember that?”

“Of course I remember the first boy I ever loved," that word catches up with him a second later. Remember. 

Cause there's Eddie with his riot of brown curls and his Bambi eyes. Eddie, who has explained why soft feminine words chafe against his skin leaving him itchy and anxious. Eddie, who has an Uncle in Hawkins. Eddie who moved to town the summer before he entered high school with a buzzed head and his mother's last name. Eddie who finally settled into an E he liked best.

"Wheeler, here's a tip from me to you," Eddie says, his advice is always better received than Steve's anyway, "if you have to ask you probably already know."

"Straight people don't really spend much time wondering if they aren't really straight," Steve agrees.

They don't rush Mike out the door, a crisis is a crisis and even in the wake of new discoveries Mike deserves to be heard out. Deserves a chance to cry and rage and feel those emotions someplace safe from his Reaganite father -- just as much as Will deserves to have someone who knows what they want come to him, deserves better than experimentation.

They cross the bridge from late into early by the time Mike sets off. The sun is creeping up over the horizon and Mike looks solid, certain; the dawn hints at the man he is growing up to be. Though every instinct of Steve's begs him to drive the kid home, Eddie's soft hand lingering at his hip holds him fast. They wave instead, encouraging Mike to go home and to bed before he does anything; knowing his front bike tire is already pointed toward the Byers-Hopper place.

"The first boy you ever loved, huh, Stevie?" Eddie teases before the door has even managed to click shut.

"And the last, I'm hoping, if I play my cards right."

"You were always pretty good at that. You were the only person that summer who called me by my name, except Wayne."

"It was your name." He knows that's too simple. Knows how hard Eddie has had it, continues to have it. But that summer it had been that simple, Eddie trying on names like shirts each one fitting until they didn't. "For what it's worth, I like Eddie a lot more than Excalibur."

"Oh fuck off, I was going through a fantasy knight phase. Which I know you remember."

"Right a phase, and how much longer is this fantasy 'phase' going to last?"

They're the kind of tired that makes you feel drunk, when Eddie tackles Steve and sends them both to the floor and to giggles. Eddie might not have been his bi awakening, but Steve is pretty fine with him being his everything else.

[milkywayes]

garrus and his blackwatch goons from ->dreamt a cipher

[justaboutsnapped]

it's time to let the "they got into f1 through DTS" discourse die. we should be preparing ourselves for an imminent and decidedly more frightening prospect*: people getting into F1 through F1 the movie

[mistressemmedi]

Is it actually RPF if the fics are written about [insert driver name here] who is part of the fictional world of the F1 movie?

[valtsv]

don't get me wrong i like to read about fictional characters fucking and sucking too but if i want to actually feel something i go for the stories where someone gets told for the first time in their life that they matter and that as long as the person or people who love them are around they're never going to let anyone hurt them ever again. that's the good stuff that makes me shake like a neurotic greyhound on fireworks night.

[indigo-greer-collins]

i wanna put angel guy asher and freelancer in a room and see whose social battery dies first

[lemon-wedges]

Its an Anime thing, you wouldnt understand. 

[dawnofiight]

Now Presenting: The Talbot Siblings

This is an excuse for me to draw Madelyn.

Her and Amanda are BFFs that's why both of them have dyed pink tips.

Amanda adopted Talbot

Tag list:

@sunsickcrab

@professionallyyappin

@themeridian

@ashertickler

@plaqying

@puffin-smoke

@pandoraroid

@infinitelovewiithoutfulfilmentt

@starlogician

@zimix-whispers

@aurorialwolf

@porters-fangs

@skunkox