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#and it's what we deserve as people who like that color
lunasfics · 7 months
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Found Family
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summary: In which Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent engage in a custody battle over a clone created from both their DNA, or, in which you get saved from a lab and gain two new families who would move mountains for you.
pairing: Bat Family x f! Reader, Supers x f! Reader
word count: 8.2k
preview
a/n: hello! IT'S FINALLY OUT WOOHOO, it's a bit long but i had a lot of fun writing it. certain characters may be a bit ooc so i do apologize as i'm still getting my footing on how to characterize certain people. let me know what you think! constructive criticism is always welcome and appreciated (just pls don't be mean lol)! i left a somewhat open-ish ending because i wanna make this into a series/universe, and will start taking requests for drabbles in this universe, depending on how this is received! - luna :)
reblogs are appreciated!
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“I’m in. Robin, what’s your status?” Bruce spoke into the earpiece, swiftly moving through the shadows of the lab. It was a simple mission: get into the lab Lex Luthor had created under Gotham City, collect intel needed to take down said lab, and leave. Unfortunately, it’s never really that simple, is it? 
“I’m in, making my way through the west wing, cover is still intact,” Damian muttered back. 
“Good. Nightwing?” 
“Just entered the center lab, heading down to the bottom level now, haven't been spotted,” Dick said, making his way down the steps, careful to remain silent. 
“Good. Remember the objective. In and Out.” Bruce muttered as he continued, searching for the locked file cabinet he was looking for. 
“Files located. Ready for extraction” Damian said quietly through the intercom. 
“I’ve made it to the bottom level. Requesting immediate backup, there's something here you guys need to see” Dick’s voice echoed through the earpiece, “They’ve made another clone.” 
Bruce stopped what he was doing, silently making his way down the hall towards the staircase Dick took around a half hour before, “I'm on my way. Damian?”
“Heading there now. Files are downloaded.” 
Upon arriving at the lower level, Dick bypasses security to let them in, making sure to reactivate the lock behind them, “Look.”
He gestured to the incubation tube not far from them, inside of it stood a young woman, who looked no older than 20, wearing a black skin-tight suit, a familiar “S” symbol adorning her chest, only it was the center of another symbol, the bat symbol, with bat ears at the top and bat wings on either side of it, a dark burgundy color with gold lining along the edges. The plaque below the tube read: 
Attempt 1: G6B24 
Specimen 1: Superman (Identity: Unknown)
Specimen 2: Batman (Identity: Unknown) 
Status: Failed - Shows excessive signs of emotional intelligence (unfit for purpose), Subject is not invulnerable, Lacks thermal vision
‘Emotional Intelligence’ you must have shown hesitation, a moral compass. 
“Father… what are we going to do?” Damian asked, he was at a loss, part of him felt slightly threatened, if you were taken in, he would no longer be the only child related to Bruce by DNA, and you were older, stronger— perhaps you would take his place, the place he’d finally felt he truly belonged; however he remained silent, his past self likely would have attempted to argue against your rescue, but he’d grown, he knew deep down you deserved a chance at this life just as much as he did. 
Bruce looked up at your unconscious figure, at a loss for words, you were his daughter, intentional or not, there was a part of him in you, he only hoped that part wouldn't screw you over for life. As surprised as he was, he had an obligation to you the same way he did with Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, Steph, Barbara, Duke, Damian, and every other vigilante he had taken under his wing.
His Batman instincts kicked in very quickly though, immediately refocusing himself, reading through the files, in an attempt to prepare himself for any possible scenario, he turned to Dick. 
“Find all the DNA samples they have belonging to both me and Superman, we’re taking them,” he said, making sure to not hyper-focus on the thoughts flooding his mind. 
“We’re not just leaving her here, are we? The plaque says ‘failed’. Who knows what could happen to her?” Dick said, he was frustrated.
Conner had gotten a chance to build a life for himself. You deserved one too, the mere thought of Bruce wanting to leave you there angered him. 
“She’s coming with us. Damian, watch the door, Dick, find the samples," Bruce said gruffly, moving to the tube, bypassing the database to open it, without setting off any system safeguards. He reached into his utility belt and pulled out his shard of kryptonite, just in case it was needed to neutralize you. 
The tube opened slowly, a swoosh sound filling the air as the cold fog escaped the tube, spilling into the air, your eyes fluttering open as you looked around, your eyes focusing on him.
You flew at him, full speed, pushing him against the wall with a thud, knocking the wind out of him, your eyes boring into his, glowing red, just as you were about to terminate him with your heat vision, he uttered the safe word he had seen in your file. 
“Blue Pineapple” he grunted out, the red in your eyes fading away instantly, as you stared at him with wide eyes. You backed away slowly, lowering yourself to the floor. Your eyes fixed on him once again.
You recognized him from your programming, the man whose combat skills were engraved into your mind.
“Batman?” 
Dick and Damian rushed over, making sure Bruce was okay. He was fine.
Dick turned to you, holding out his hand, “Come with me. We need to get you out of here, you aren’t safe here.” 
You stared at him, your eyes narrowing, “Why should I trust you?” 
Dick sighed, Those damn Wayne genetics, he kept his hand extended to you, “Because we’re helping you escape, if you come with us, you can meet Superman, be a hero just like him and Batman, you could actually see the world” he promised. 
"I know what the world looks like." you stated bluntly.
He sighed, his hand not wavering, "But have you ever experienced it? Let us show you what that's like. You can have a life."
You thought for a moment, before letting out a small grunt, nodding at him and taking his hand, allowing them to lead you out of the lab grounds seemingly undetected. 
When you stepped out, you stopped, eyes completely transfixed on the brilliant night sky. Blends of blues and purples and grays danced together to make the beautiful endless abyss above you. You knew every color there was. You knew everything, but at the same time you really didn't. You stared up at the stars, you knew how they came to be, you knew every scientific explanation there was yet seeing them… it made you feel a way you couldn’t explain.
They led you to the batmobile, situating you in the back seat with Damian, starting the drive to the Batcave. Bruce dialed Clark’s number into the keypad, it rang twice before he picked up. 
“Hello?” 
“Meet me in the Batcave. It’s urgent. Bring Conner.”
“What’s going o-”
He hung up. 
Dick covered his mouth to hide his snicker, “So, Bruce, you and Clark have an official love child now, right? What will Lois think?” he feigned concern, placing the back of his hand over his forehead, committing to the drama, “Oh, how scandalous, I mean really, the shame! I can already see the headlines ‘Billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne turned common whore after breaking up happy metropolis family’” 
Damian covered his laugh with a cough.
You looked at the three of them, utterly confused, still processing what was going on. 
Bruce huffed, shooting them both a glare, “Dick, be mature.” 
Dick smiled, “I can't help myself, just wait til Jason finds out.” He smiled in excitement, as they pulled into the side entrance of the Batcave. 
Bruce let out a deep, tired sigh.
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Clark sat in silence in the Batcave, Conner standing to his left, his eyes wide as he stared at you, possessing some features belonging to both he and Bruce, and other features that seemed to be entirely your own.
You stared back, that same stoic nature radiating off of you that radiates off the Batman, however, he noted the defensive look in your eyes, one so similar to the one he saw in Conner when he first met him. He eyed your suit, noting the familiar “S” symbol, only it was a burgundy color, a rather interesting combination of the Batman and Superman emblems, and he was utterly confused.
He looked over at Bruce, still in his bat suit, his cowl pulled off, “Bruce, what the hell is going on?” 
“I had to call you here because Luthor decided to create another clone. I did the DNA test, Clark, she’s a combination of both our DNA” Bruce looked at him, Dick and Damian standing to his right. It was silent for a moment, you felt like a guinea pig, the way they all stared at you. It made you angry. 
Conner was the first to speak, stepping forward before opening his mouth, choosing his words carefully, “What’s your name?” 
You responded immediately, it felt automatic. “Experiment attempt number one. Code G6B24. I was made to be the future killer of the Batman and the Kriptonian.” 
He nodded slowly, “I’m a clone too, and Clark took me in— well, he took me in eventually— that’s besides the point. He showed me how to become my own person, we can help you do that too.”
You looked at him, eyes softening ever so slightly, but you kept your guard up like your Batman programming taught you to. “I was made to be a killer, if I don’t do what I was made to do, what am I worth?” you said quietly, voice unwavering.
Damian watched you, your words striking him in a way he hadn't expected them to, he understood what you were saying all too well. 
Bruce decided to speak up next, “You were created, it’s not your fault what their intentions were when they did so. What you become from here on out is your choice.” 
You stayed silent, eyes darting around the room—What is this feeling? Vulnerability? You knew it by definition, like you did most other feelings, but feeling them… it was different. 
Dick noted the way you seemed overwhelmed, he approached you slowly, pulling up two chairs, motioning for you to sit, you chose to remain standing until he sat down first. 
“You know, we trust you, we want to figure out a way for you to become the best you can be. On your terms” he said, offering you a small smile. 
You looked around, the others nodded in agreement, “I was made to be only the best parts of you” you said, your gaze focusing on Clark and Bruce, they both put their best qualities forward to help others, how could you use those same qualities to destroy that?
“I… don’t want to be a killer. They said I was too… human. I thought I’d failed them.” 
Damian decided to step forward, “You didn’t fail anyone, you are meant for greater things. You haven't killed anyone, you can choose your path. If the path you choose is the Robin mantle... I am willing to work with that.” 
At this, the other men in the room turned to look at him, Clark and Conner were slack-jawed, this was the same kid who fought Tim tooth and nail over this mantle. The same mantle he was just… willing to give you? 
Meanwhile Dick had a proud smile on his face, you thought you saw a small tear in his eye.
Bruce’s face seemed unreadable, however, you took notice of the way the corners of his lips turned up for a split second. before reverting back to their natural state. 
You weren’t sure what to say, again, you knew what this mantle was, by definition. The reality was you had no sense of what it meant, the weight it carried. And you knew that.
“Thank you, but I feel like that title isn’t mine to take. I think I need to… become something that's true to who I am, whatever that may be.”  
Bruce looked at you, the corner of his lip barely twitching up into a smile, a smile so subtle that only someone of your… background would notice, an attempt of his towards getting you more comfortable, “We should start with a name.” 
You looked at Conner, he gave you an encouraging smile. 
“Like I chose Conner, so now I’m Conner Kent,” he said with a small shrug, “You can choose whatever you want.” 
“I see,” you thought for a moment, “I like Y/n.” 
Clark smiled, standing up and clapping his hands together, “Great! Y/n Kent, has a nice ring to it.” 
“Wayne.” 
He turned towards Bruce, eyes narrowing slightly, “Kent.”
“Wayne.”
This time Conner spoke, “Kent.”
The three men stared at each other, arms crossed mirroring each-other’s glares. 
Dick cut in, “How about Grayson?”
“No.” came their simultaneous response. 
Dick frowned, slumping in the seat next to yours, “Jeez.” 
Damian spoke next, “I suppose Al Ghul is off the table…” 
Dick snorted, breaking out into a fit of laughter, you grinned softly at the sounds of his laughter, it reminded you of a windshield wiper. 
Conner sighed, “Fine, what about Wayne-Kent?”
Bruce huffed, “I suppose.”
Clark nodded, the smile returning to his face as he turned to you, “Y/n Wayne-Kent”
You nodded, “I like it.” 
Dick could help but laugh from beside you, “It's like I'm watching reality tv. Love me some baby mama drama.”
Clark opened his mouth to speak and closed it, before sighing and looking at Bruce, who just pinched the bridge of his nose. 
Conner chuckled at the sight, turning to Damian, who’s lip quirked up in amusement. 
Bruce looked up, his attention directed towards you, “Y/n, you can stay here for the night, I’ve asked Alfred to set up a room for you. Clark, Conner, come by tomorrow with Lois and Jon, I’ve called the others to come by as well, we’ll get everything situated tomorrow. For now, get some rest.” 
Everyone nodded, Clark and Conner heading to the exit of the cave, Damian, Dick and Bruce leading you to the room that was prepared for you. 
Dick brought you a sweater and some sweatpants to change into, closing the door with a soft, “Goodnight, kiddo.” 
You changed in silence, slowly getting under the covers and drifting off to sleep, marking the start of your new life. Tomorrow would be an interesting day. 
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You woke up the next morning, to a soft knock on the door, your super hearing picking it up better than you would have liked. You opened the door, revealing an older man you hadn’t seen before. He smiled softly, giving you an instantaneous sense of comfort you couldn’t explain. 
“Hello Miss Y/n. My name is Alfred, I am the butler,” he greeted you, handing you a folded set of clothes, “Master Kent chose these for you, however if they are not to your liking, do let me know.” 
“They’re fine…Thank you.”
He smiled warmly, the kind old man giving you a nod, “Once you've changed, do come down, I’ve prepared breakfast. The other members of the family will arrive soon to meet you.” 
You gave him a short nod, he smiled again, your demeanor reminding him of the young Bruce he’d looked after all those years ago. He shut your door softly before retreating down the staircase, leaving you in your room to change. 
You picked up the small note that rested at the top of the pile, reading it over. 
Comfortable, Practical, and cool. Hope you like it. - Conner
You looked down at the neatly folded clothes, unfolding a black long sleeve turtleneck shirt, the material was thick but breathable, you slipped it on with ease, the foreign material soft against your skin, you appreciated that it didn’t suffocate you. 
You reached for the pants next, dark gray cargo pants, these were thicker, and the had an overwhelming amount of pockets. You slipped them on before slipping on the boots that were at the bottom of the stack and exiting the room, going down the staircase. 
Upon entering the dining room, you were met with Bruce sitting at the head of the table, reading the paper calmly eating his pancakes, to his right sat Dick chatting excitedly to the boy next to him, who smiled at him as he listened, he was a slender boy with black hair who looked a bit younger than Dick. Then there was Alred, calmly enjoying his breakfast. Finally there was Damian on the other side of Bruce, leaving an empty seat between Damian and Alred. You sat down, the pale boy noticing you first. 
Bruce looked up, “Tim, this is Y/n.” 
“Hello.” You sat up awkwardly. One thing you never learned was how to navigate social interactions.
He studied you for a moment, offering you a small smile, “I’m Tim.” 
You gave a nod, returning his smile with a smaller one of your own. 
“She knows, by the way.” Dick chimed in.
His eyes widened, was that why you were there? 
“How?” 
All eyes are on you. You opened your mouth to speak but Damian spoke first. 
“She’s a clone. Father will explain everything when everyone else arrives so as to not waste time, until then, hold on to your childish curiosity. I’d like to enjoy my breakfast.” 
Dick nodded, “She was literally made for this shit.”
“Watch your language Master Dick, it is deplorable to speak in such a way at the table, much less in the presence of a lady.” 
Dick blushed, “Sorry Alfred.” 
Bruce simply gave a nod. 
Tim slumped back in his seat, wanting to ask you questions about your abilities, your earliest memories, who were you a clone of, how your programming worked, the boy was itching to know it all. 
Breakfast passed by relatively quickly after that, you weren’t bombarded with questions, much to your relief. Alfred kindly asked you how you slept to which you replied that you slept well. The sound of casual conversation and glassware scraping together filling the room. You enjoyed observing the atmosphere.
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Clark and Conner were the first to arrive at the manor, greeting you happily, with them was a woman and a younger boy, who immediately went to sit by Damian. 
Clark brought them over to you, the woman smiled warmly at you. It made you feel safe. 
She held your hand in hers, “My name is Lois,” her voice was kind, genuine. You noted how she carried herself. Strong, secure, honest. 
Clark was quick to bring Jon over, excited to introduce him, “This is my son, Jon.”
“Hi!”  he beamed at you, you smiled, he was cute. Cheerful as he smiled brightly at you. 
“Hello, my name is Y/n.” you greeted the two, who smiled at you.
Conner was the next to approach, “Did you like the clothes? I picked them out cause it was all I used to wear, but who knows, you may want something more… fashionable.”
You smiled softly, “They're nice, thank you.”
“On that note actually,” Clark said, “I was thinking we can take you shopping later, Bruce and I can pay.” 
Bruce deadpanned, “That’s a joke, right?” 
He smiled, “Of course, you’re paying for everything.”
“Sounds about right.” 
Chatter filled the room not long after, Jon and Damian catching up on the couch while Conner and Tim started a conversation of their own. 
The next people to arrive were three young women, blonde, brunette, and red hair. They had arrived together.
The blonde spoke first, “Why'd you call us here Bruce? We had planned for brunch.” She bitterly narrowed her eyes at him, the brunette behind her giving a short nod of agreement.
Bruce sighed, “We’re waiting on Jason. He’s late.” 
“As always.” The redhead said with a sigh, though you could see she wasn't actually upset.  
The blonde girl turned to you first smiling, “I’m Stephanie, but call me Steph. I’m assuming you’ll be joining our vigilante posse.” She seemed funny, and kind, like she truly cared for those around her. 
“Somewhat, I don’t really know. I’m Y/n.” You said bluntly.
“Pretty name.” She smiled, gesturing to the red haired woman behind her, “This is Barbara, but she's really just Babs.” She then gestured to the brunette, “That’s Cass. She’s lovely.” 
You looked at them and nodded, “It’s nice to meet you.”
Barbara smiled warmly at you, “You too, I’m so glad there’ll be another girl around, we can always use more company.” She smiled at you so kindly, despite having only just met you. Her voice was sweet, like honey. 
Cass smiled softly at you, “Come to brunch with us later. Or, lunch, now since Jason is holding us up.” 
You nodded your lip quirking up into a small smile, “I’d enjoy that.” 
Truthfully, you didn't know what the fuck brunch was. But she said lunch and that you knew. You'd find out about brunch later.
Then, as if on cue, the man in question arrived, walking through the door, slipping off his brown jacket and tossing it on the couch. He was tall, with a stocky frame, jet black hair with a white streak on the front. 
“This better be good.” 
Tim mumbled, “Finally” 
“Miss me Timmy?” 
“Quite the contrary.”
The one called Jason laughed before giving him a small nudge, to which Tim swatted his hand away. 
His eyes fixed on you, then on Bruce. 
“Dude, seriously? Another one? You have a problem man. You’d think you would’ve stopped after me.” 
Bruce stood up, “Jason, sit down. Now that you’re all here I wanted to introduce you to Y/n. She’s a clone, made from both mine, and Clark’s DNA.” 
“Holy shit, man.” 
“Jason, will you shut up?” 
“Never.” 
“As I was saying, she’ll be here in the manor for the time being, I’ll be training her and assessing her combat technique.” 
“Hold on,” Clark interjected, “She should come with us, she needs to get the hang of her powers.” 
“Clark, I have a state of the art training area in the cave.” 
“So? We’re supers, all we need is an open field.” 
“We need to assess her combat skills, and also assess the extent of her powers. She isn’t invulnerable. We need to prioritize getting to the bottom of that.” 
Clark huffed but nodded, understanding the full extent of your abilities was vital in actually training you. 
“It’s like I’m watching a custody battle.” muttered Steph, Barbara laughing quietly beside her. 
“Wait- So Y/n is basically if you and Clark had a baby?” Tim gawked at them, his eyes shifting from Bruce to Clark, to you. When his eyes landed on you, he fired questions like he was on a time limit. 
“How do Bruce’s genetics affect your abilities? Are you immune to kryptonite and invulnerable? How does your thermal vision work? Enhanced strength? Can you fly? Can you fly as fast as Superman? Do you have combat training? How do y-” 
Conner smacked a hand over his mouth, leading him back to his seat, “Lets try not to overwhelm her with the questions.” He chuckled. 
Tim nodded, looking up at you, “Sorry, Y/n.” 
“That’s okay. To answer your questions, his genetics don’t necessarily have a huge impact on any of my abilities, I was created with every available video of Batman fighting embedded into my mind, and the combat skills were engraved in my memory, I should be able to replicate his fighting style to a tee. I’m not invulnerable, but in theory, the stealth I was programmed with allows me to stay agile enough that I shouldn’t often get hurt. I don't have thermal vision, but I do have laser vision, enhanced strength, and flight, although I haven’t tested how fast I actually can fly. And like I said, my combat training is essentially the combat footage uploaded into my mind.” 
Tim had nodded, eyes trained on yours in complete interest as you answered each question, occasionally jotting something down on the notes app of his phone. 
Lois narrowed her eyes slightly at both Bruce and Clark, “I do hope you’re factoring in giving her the opportunity to build an actual social life. Maybe get her enrolled in school.” 
“She has doctorate-level information on several different topics stored into her mind, as well as fluency in 8 languages. I think she’ll be fine, Lois,” Bruce replied. 
She rolled her eyes, “Okay, so school’s not necessary, what about building a social life for herself? That’s important.” 
“There’s Young Justice,” Conner said, “I figured she’d join.” 
Tim nodded in agreement, “I can help her get situated.” 
“Where will I stay?” you asked, you didn’t particularly enjoy how they were all discussing you as if you weren't there, but there honestly wasn’t much you could do. 
“You can stay at the manor, or you can stay with the team, but it'd be best if you lived here in the Manor.” Bruce replied.
“Why isn’t Metropolis an option?” Clark muttered. 
“Because it’s more practical to have her here in Gotham, living with Tim will make it easier to adjust to the team.” 
“I want time with her, Bruce.” 
“You’ll get it. We’ll have her assessed, then three times a week she’ll train and get a hold of her powers with you.” 
Clark nodded, satisfied with that answer. 
Lois spoke again, turning to you, “Y/n, how does that sound to you?” 
You blinked. “It sounds fine. My super hearing allows me to hear every conversation proficiently.”
She chuckled softly, “It’s a figure of speech sweetheart, I meant if you’re okay with everything that was said, you’ve been a bit quiet.”
You felt your face grow hot, “Oh. Yeah, I’m okay with it.”
Clark gave you a fond smile. 
Bruce looked at you and smiled softly, a barely noticeable one, but a smile nonetheless. 
The bulk of the conversation was over. The people in the room falling into easy conversation with one another, you look around, not sure what to do. That is until Jason approaches you, a kind smile on his face. 
“Hey Y/n, I’m Jason, I’ll be honest, you probably won't see me too often cause I can barely stand being around Bruce, but… if he’s ever a dick, call me and I’ll either punch him for you and take you somewhere he’s not.” he grinned, “Or both.” 
You laughed softly, “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”
He nodded, “I’ll be raiding the kitchen, but if anyone asks, I left.” He shoots you a grin before slipping away. 
It’s not long after that when Jon approaches you, Damian by his side, he shoots you a toothy grin, “So, you’re like, my sister now, right?” 
You’re not sure how to respond, but you feel a puddle of warmth pooling in your heart, it’s nice. You smile at him softly, “I suppose so.” 
He grins, “And that would also make you Damian’s sister. right?”
“I suppose so.” 
“See Damian, we’re blood brothers by extension.” 
“Jon, that is the most imbecilic logic I’ve ever encountered. Just because Y/n is both my blood and yours doesn’t mean–” 
“Blood brothers!” He had shouted cheerfully, before walking away and over to Lois to inform her of the good news. 
Damian sighed, though you took notice of the soft smile that flashed across his face, you concluded that he cared for him. 
A lot of people in this family– Bruce’s family specifically, tend to hide affection, despite the fact that it is apparent to you that they feel it. You decide not to focus on it, people are complicated. 
You chat a bit with various people in the room, Lois telling you that you’re always welcome to visit whenever you’d like, Barbara talking to you about how her work as Oracle, Steph telling you all about the other vigilantes you’ll probably end up crossing paths with. Tim and Conner sat by you, telling you all about the team and the people you’ll meet once all your training is done. 
Slowly, people start to leave, you saw Jason slip out the front door first, sending you a wink. Dick left not long after, needing to return to his responsibilities in Bludhaven, making sure to tell you you’re always welcome to visit him over there. Then Clark left with Lois, Jon, and Conner, leaving the residents of the manor plus, Cass, Steph and Barbara.
Damian and Tim had retreated to their rooms, while Alfred busied himself with household chores, Bruce stood up, approaching you before saying, “Did you still want to go shopping? You’ll need training clothes.” 
You nodded, “Yes, please.” 
Steph perked up, rushing towards the two of you, “Oh, we have to come.” 
“Steph, you go shopping every week. With my card.”
Barbara chimed in, “It’s not about that Bruce, you have a terrible fashion sense. We can’t let you impose that onto Y/n.”
Cass nodded in agreement. 
“We’re just buying training clothes.” 
“She can’t wear training clothes in her daily life,” Steph rolled her eyes, “She needs a wardrobe.” 
You smiled, “I would like a wardrobe.” 
“See?”
Bruce sighed but nodded, “Let's go then.”
Steph cheered while Barbara and Cass high-fived behind her, it was an amusing site. 
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When you arrived at the mall, Steph immediately linked arms with you, dragging you around to her favorite stores, paying no mind to your super strength potentially being able to accidentally break her arm. It caught you off guard, not only the physical display of affection, but the trust.
Again, you felt that soft puddle of warmth pool in your chest. You could get used to that. 
You had gotten to know Barbara and Cass fairly well during the trip as well, Barbara was sweet, she and Steph made you laugh more than you thought you could. Cass and you got along well too, she picked out the clothes you liked the most, always nodding in approval when you would try anything on, a soft smile on her face. The three of them opened their group up to you so quickly, it had surprised you, you felt that with their company you were better able to navigate finding yourself. 
The four of you hadn’t paid much mind to Bruce trailing behind you as you went from store to store, not that he minded. He held a fond smile as he observed the four of you giggling, talking, and having a good time.
He knew his focus on training was important, but he also knew Lois was right (not that he’d admit that to anyone), you needed a social life too. And he knew your heightened emotional intelligence would surely allow you to obtain that, you just needed to blossom, and allow yourself to break free of the restraints you put on yourself. 
He’d lost count of how many times he had swiped his card that day, at some point he had decided to just start waiting by the front, once you guys were ready, he’d walk over, swipe his card, and you guys would move on to the next shop. He wouldn't say this to anyone, but he enjoyed doing things like this, taking care of the people he cares about. 
The last store you had gone to was WayneTech, it was Bruce’s idea. You needed a phone in order to keep everyone’s contacts. So they brought you there where you got the latest model of their cell phone line, it was sleek and thin. You picked out a case and you got a screen protector. Bruce had told you that once you got to the Batcave he’d input league contacts, safety features, as well as league-level security settings. 
By the end of the trip it was early in the evening, Bruce had his arms absolutely filled with shopping bags, and what he couldn’t carry was carried by you and Steph. The five of you stepped out into the parking lot, the sun setting, casting a deep orange hue on the parking lot. You took in the image in front of you, you didn’t know suns could set so beautifully.
The ride home was nice, the car was filled with the soft chatter of the four of you, Bruce didn’t feel the need to listen in. The soft music playing on the stereo as a background was a nice addition to the atmosphere. 
When you’d arrived at the manor, the girls had bid you goodbye, but not before making sure they had your number to add you to their group chat. You were warned by Steph that Cass’s meme game could not be beat. You were slightly confused but nodded, a happy smile on your face. They each gave you a hug before getting in their cars and heading off. 
The walk into the manor was silent, but not awkward, mainly the two of you taking armfuls of bags up to your room.
As he shut the door, Bruce turned to you, “It’s not too late, if you want, we could start out on some training.” 
You nodded, going into your room to change, “I’ll be down there in a bit.” 
He nodded, walking away to change as well. 
You entered the Batcave shortly after, comfortable in your black sweatpants, and a black long sleeve athletic shirt. Now, having a better opportunity to take it all in, it was massive. You looked to your left to see Damian sparring with Tim in one of the further training areas. You walked over to Bruce, he gave you a small smile, leading you to the second training area by Tim and Damian, who by now had stopped sparring, in favor of observing your skill. 
“You can replicate my fighting style to a tee, right?”
You nodded.
“Let’s see it.” 
You charged first, making sure to suppress your strength, your movements swift and calculated, landing a fast right kick to his abdomen. He sidestepped, landing a swift punch to your side. You kept attempting attacks on eachother, each one dodging the other flawlessly.
Tim and Damian watched in awe as the two of you gracefully moved, as if you were dancing. This went on for several minutes, until you attempted a fast left kick to his side, which he caught, using as leverage to flip you over on your back.
Your limbs ached, you looked up at him, “How did you do that?”
He held a hand out to help you up, “I’m not as fast with my left kicks as I am with my right ones. My weaknesses are your weaknesses.”
You nodded. Made sense. 
“You have good technique, and you replicate my fighting perfectly, but that’s all it is. A replication. You need to make it your own. Adapt it in accordance with your abilities, you can’t do that now because Clark hasn’t trained you, but in time you will.” 
You nodded, your chest swelling with pride at his compliment, you knew after your training with Clark you would be able to better adjust your fighting style.
Damian walked over to you, “Y/n. I’d like to spar, you’ve proven to be a worthy opponent.” 
You nodded, it would be good to spar with someone with a different fighting style. Tim sat down to the side, perfectly content with just observing for now, like earlier, he occasionally jotted down some notes on his phone. You decided you didn’t mind it. It was endearing. 
This time, Damian charged first, landing a swift right kick to your ribs, you turned and landed a hard kick to his chest, sending him back, before he flipped and caught himself, running towards you again. His smaller frame provided him with an advantage as he jumped onto your shoulders, before he could land his blow, you flipped your body, sending him to the floor, landing on his back with a thud. You crouched over him, extending your hand.
“You okay?”
“Fine.” he took your hand, getting up to his feet, you gave him a soft smile, which he returned, giving you a nod of approval. He, like Bruce, didn’t often use his words, but you were able to discern their intentions just fine. 
Bruce then led you to a machine he had in the cave, where it analyzed your genetics in comparison to Clark’s, he had determined you were missing the genetic composition that happened to be the main source of invulnerability, therefore the reason you were the way you were. You are unfortunately still weak when exposed to kryptonite. 
You were tired by the end of the night. You felt you had bonded with Damian, he had asked you to spar with him another time, to which you agreed.
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The next day, Bruce had sent you over to Smallville, where Clark had decided on training you, ‘A good old fashioned open field’ were his exact words.
He made sure to send you wearing your original suit, not knowing how fast you would be flying, just in case, only you didn’t like it, so you opted to wear some sweats over the suit. 
And there you were, floating about 300 feet in the air with him, as he explained the basics of flying. 
“You want to create your own leverage, using your flight, you should be able to do this.” He bent one leg, tilting to the right as he effortlessly glided in that direction, he repeated the action only now going in the opposite direction. 
You nodded, imitating his movements, gliding from side to side before stopping and looking at him. He smiled brightly at you, “You’re doing great, kid. There was never a point where you didn’t have powers, so this should be easy. Now, we’ll test your speed.” 
You nodded, “How are we doing that?”
He pulled out a stopwatch, “I’m going to wait here while you fly to Gotham and back. You know the route?” 
You nodded. 
“Okay… and…. Go!”
You immediately shot forward, a slightly bumpy start but your body adapted immediately, you felt the wind whip through your hair, and a smile spread across your face as you made a U-turn around Gotham, making it back to Clark in seconds. 
“2.6 seconds. That’s good.” He smiled at you. 
You went on like that for the next few hours, him giving you encouraging words of advice, and you gained better control over your abilities, him providing you with tips he learned over the years. For that last hour, Jon and Conner joined the two of you, the four of you eventually just playing air tag until Martha and Lois called you in for dinner. 
They insisted you stay for dinner, and you had no mind to refuse, spending time with them was nice. Jon insisted he sat next to you at dinner, excitedly talking your ear off about whatever he’d gotten to that day, and sharing his favorite stories about Damian with you. He acts like he doesn't like people, but he’s got a soft spot for a lot of us, were his exact words. You honestly completely agreed, you smiled at him as he continued talking. 
That day you’d gotten to know Martha and Jonanthan Kent, who insisted you called them Ma and Pa. They instantly coddled you as if they’d known you since birth, though, in a way, that is technically the case. 
They didn't let you leave empty handed, sending you off with tupper-ware filled with leftovers, cookies and pie. You thanked them for their hospitality and headed back to the manor. 
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The next few months were mainly doing morning and evening training with Bruce, occasionally Dick would stop by to train with you, always telling you he was proud of your improvement, which never failed to make you glow just a little brighter with pride. He’d begun a tradition where he would treat you to a burger after training, or whatever it was you were craving. He said that it was his goal to get you to try every fast food joint in Gotham, deciding that it was just an essential part of living there. You quickly decided you hated fast food, but never said anything because that wasn’t at all what mattered to you, what mattered to you was the bond you were creating with your older brother. 
Your relationship with Bruce wasn’t perfect. There were times you saw how focused he was on his mission, neglecting the feelings of those around him, he could be an asshole. And with you still navigating your emotions, you’d get angry and yell, and so would he. If you saw him brushing off Damian, or Tim, one look at the crestfallen expressions on their faces was enough to get you angry. You shouldn’t have been surprised, truthfully, you weren’t. You were too similar. You were just fortunate enough to be surrounded by people early on who could convince you to let them in. 
Regardless of the imperfections between you and Bruce, you knew he cared. He always showed it with the small smile he’d give you as he held up two tickets to the movie you had wanted to see. Or in the way he’d lure everyone into the living room with snacks for a movie night. Or how he’d try his best to always express to you that you were doing well. That you were enough, and that you deserved to be there. 
You’d grown closer with Tim, too, always willing to help him with his assignments (not that he often needed it, but on the rare occasions his sleep deprived self couldn’t wrap his head around a problem). You’d often go to him when you needed help figuring something out on your phone, to which he would offer a simple solution you hadn’t seen before.
Tim was kind, he showed he cared for you by fixing things, when you cracked your screen protector by accidentally tapping it too hard, he made you a new one that could withstand the force of a bullet. He learned to confide in you over time, telling you about Bernard, expressing his worries to you about whether or not he’s good enough. You’d always tell him he was more than good enough. 
Damian had taken to calling you ‘sister’, often challenging and teasing you when he could, you’d developed a relationship where he’d go to you for company. You’d sit in the garden and take in the life around you, while he sat a few feet away and drew it.
Once, he drew you while you weren’t looking, when he finished, he handed it to you without a word and walked away. In the bottom right corner you read ‘Y/n Wayne-Kent’ in neat handwriting, just below that, ‘sister’. That was the first time he’d used that word for you. Your heart swelled. 
You continued seeing Steph, Barbara, and Cass, regularly having lunch with them and talking with them on the phone. Barbara, or as you now called her, Babs, was always there to guide you when you needed it, she’d often send you small gifts from time to time, like jewelry that reminded her of you.
Cass and you would often find the most peaceful company in each other. She would listen to you talk about all the things you'd been learning, telling you about her own experience adjusting to a new life.
Steph and you bonded over poorly written hallmark movies, she always giggled madly when you would point out plot inconsistencies, wearing the most confused expression she had ever seen on a person, you didn’t understand why at first, you would just state facts, but you always enjoyed the time with her. She always says you guys should start a podcast, and you always agree. You hope she never asks you what a podcast is... because you genuinely didn't know.
True to his word, you didn’t see Jason often, but there were a few instances  where you felt particularly suffocated by Bruce’s training that you took him up on his offer to take you somewhere he wasn’t. Those moments were... nice. Every time, he would bring food, and take you to his apartment, where you talked about books and he introduced you to some of his favorite movies. You didn’t know why he and Bruce didn’t get along, but you chose not to pry.
Alfred had taken a liking to you instantly, he enjoyed giving you etiquette lessons, and would bake all kinds of scones and cookies for you to try. His humor was at times very dry and sarcastic, which never failed to make you laugh. He taught you how to bake once, finding you were exceptionally good at it, ‘Miss Y/n, I think we’ve found your natural talent’. You hadn’t expected to be good at it, but Alfred said you were phenomenal. 
You’d also train with Clark 3 times a week, getting even closer with the Kents, integrating yourself in both families. It was interesting being part of two very different families. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
Clark had shown you a lot about your powers, but it was never just training. It had become a necessity for the two of you to fly to some famous landmark and have lunch together, before flying back to Smallville for more training.
Clark was constantly trying his best for you, he still had his regrets from his initial relationship with Conner, and although he was forgiven and their relationship was rebuilt, he knew he lost time. And he absolutely refused to repeat that and hurt someone else who didn’t deserve it. 
You always stayed for dinner, you found that you could never say no to Jon, the one time you tried was awful, you felt so bad that you went back the next day and took him shopping. With Bruce's card, duh.
Jon was stuck to you like glue whenever you were over. He always insisted on sitting by you and talking to you about whatever he’d been up to. He flew around with you a lot, you guys would play games that he taught you how to play. Your favorite moments were when he and Damian would allow you in to watch them play video games because ‘How do you not know how to play video games? That’s just wrong. We’ll teach you.’
Conner had spent more and more time with you as well, telling you about a lot of social cues, the importance of boundaries, etc. He was determined to help you adjust in every way he could, he shared his experiences with you when he first started working in teams. You learned a lot from him, he was very affectionate with you, but in that awkward-older-brother way. He’d give you a soft pat on the back and a smile, he knew you’d do just fine. 
Lois became your role model, you truly admired her. She was strong, outspoken, confident. She helped you not be afraid of forming your own opinions and voicing them. One time she saw you yell at Bruce over something he’d done, and all she could do was smile proudly.
These people whose lives you just appeared in one day, very quickly became your family. Every day you were reminded of how lucky you were to have come to care for them as much as you do. Bonding with them was nice, and you very quickly understood the appeal of having family.
These are people who care for you unconditionally, simply because they want to. Because every moment that they spend with you, they choose to.
And just like that, you were ready to meet the team. You had learned to combine your combat skills with your powers, if you need to, you can fight in mid air. You’d learned to incorporate your abilities into your technique to enhance your own personal style. And it felt amazing.
You knew every possible way to deliver an effective, non-lethal blow.  Of course, you needed a suit. Bruce offered to enhance the one you had worn the day they rescued you, but you wanted a new one. To you, that suit represented what you were created to be, and that is not who you are. You wanted something true to yourself, and he understood and wholeheartedly supported you. Damian helped you make a sketch, and together you’d designed the perfect representation of you. And you became Eclipse. The alignment of two heroes, though unintentional, created a whole new hero. You.
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deadsetobsessions · 2 months
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Alley Drunk!Danny AU- Part 3
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.4]
“Have you considered anger management classes?”
The Batman turned sharply, cape flaring out as he raised his weary fists in preparation for another fight. Only to pause, as he caught sight of a bedraggled man leaning against the pockmarked, water worn, Gotham variety stone of the abandoned post office. Non-hostile. Scent of booze, not strong enough to be fresh, but prominent enough for him to clock the stranger as a habitual drinker. Young. Sympathy softened Batman’s stance. Still, Batman kept his guard up. Good thing Robin was benched, he was off his game today if he hadn’t noticed the young man.
“Nevermind. You run around as a bat. Clearly anger management classes aren’t on your to do list.”
“What do you want.”
He’s young. Not as young as Robin, but… enough that it made Batman gentle his approach. The young man pushed away from his spot, fearlessly slouching towards him. Casual. Unafraid. How curious. Even Gothamites were wary around him, correctly assuming and witnessing his takedowns of Gotham’s Underbelly.
“You do this a lot, don’t you?” The bedraggled young man asked, head tilted neutrally at the bodies strewn around the Batman.
“Hm.”
“Why do you never swing by Crime Alley?”
Batman’s guard faltered at the blunt question, but he regained it quickly.
“I do.”
“You don’t.” The man disagreed amiably. He reached down towards the victims but Batman grabbed his arm in an iron hold before he could rifle through their belongings. The young man laughed and pulled back agreeably. “Is it classism, why you avoid us? The poor isn’t good enough to deserve protection from Gotham’s knight?”
“No. I do this for Gotham. All of Gotham.”
“…Well, there’s always room for improvement, I guess?”
The stranger pulled back and broke Batman’s hold, which had the vigilante sharply focusing onto the man. The stranger was strong, despite how skinny and starved he looked. Few people could casually break his hold and tonight, he added one more to the tally.
“You should tell your sponsor to look into creating job opportunities in Crime Alley. The problem isn’t actually the crooks,” the man told the vigilante, gesturing around them. “That’s just the symptoms. The actual problem is the poverty.”
“I know.”
“And yet, you still avoid Crime Alley.”
“Who are you.”
The man began walking away, throwing a dry “The Crime Alley Drunk, apparently,” behind his shoulder. When Batman took to the roofs to track him, the man had thoroughly slipped away.
“Agent A, did you catch that?”
“Yes, Batman. It appears you’ve gotten the wool pulled over your cowl by a rather mysterious youngster.”
Batman heard a younger snort of laughter. Robin. Who was supposed to be doing homework.
“Please stop making fun of me.” Batman sighed half heartedly.
“Not on your life, B.” Robin chirped.
——
“Ya talked ta Batman?!” Jason crowed at him, excited. Danny had done as promised and met him at the chili dog stand at the correct time, which increased his credibility in Jason’s eyes.
“Sure did. He knocked out like, five guys by himself. It was pretty cool.”
“Fuckin’ woah.”
“Right?” Danny smiled tiredly at the kid. He stayed up all night to pull his shit together, and outright bought an apartment for them to stay in. That safe had a lot of cash, after all. “Come on, kid. We’re heading back to base but before that, we gotta pick up a few things.”
“Like what?” Jason asked suspiciously.
“Like curtains in the color you like, groceries, and blankets and bedding, and general cleaning stuff.” Danny ticked off a finger per item.
“We killin’ someone?”
“What? No!”
“Ya said general cleaning stuff!” Jason defended himself. The raggedy kid peered at Danny cautiously, and brightened when Danny only snorted in amusement.
“Oh my ancients, you Gothamites. No, those are for like, actual cleaning. You know, for the apartment I just got you.”
Danny missed the burn of booze, but when Jason looked at him like the child he’s supposed to be had Gotham’s streets never laid its claim on him, Danny didn’t want to fail the kid.
Even if the kid thought he was buying chemicals to clean up a body. He’s the son of two mad scientists, he knows how to get rid of a body, obviously. As if he’d need chemicals to begin with, honestly. His ghost powers are quite versatile.
“An apartment?”
“Yep. It’s shitty, but it’s got all the utilities and I kind of miss having warm water to shower with.”
Jason straightened and trotted alongside the Alley Drunk with a little more purpose. People avoided them. Danny lead the kid to the apartment, handing him a key and letting him explore the sparsely decorated place.
“So, first thing’s first. You go shower. Then, we’ll go shopping for clothes, register you for school, get your school supplies, and grab some lunch. Not necessarily in that order, but ya know. And cleaning supplies.” Danny grinned.
Jason whipped his head around from where he was closely inspecting the windows for insulation- like Danny would let the actual kid live somewhere with drafty windows- and spluttered. Hope, fear, uncertainty battled across Jason’s face as he tried to say something. Danny watched Jason open and close his mouth several times before he finally managed to whisper something.
“I- I c’n go to school?”
“Yes. You are, in fact, legally required to do so, Jason.”
A pause as the kid grapples with the idea, of something he didn’t think he’d ever get to do. A grin bloomed over his face as he realized Danny’s sincerity.
“Then what are we waitin’ for?!”
“For you to shower. C’mon grubby, the shower’s that way. Towels are in the cabinet, and there’s some extra clothes in here,” Danny tossed Jason the plastic bag of clean kid’s clothes he bought from Gotham’s version of Walmart, a store that somehow had the energy of a Tesco and a Denny’s parking lot.
“Fuc- I mean- yeah! On it!”
——
Clearing out the drafts- feel free to continue ^^
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Text
It's a Match! || 141 x Reader
[Chapter 16] || [Chapter 18]
Pairing: Gaz x Reader x Ghost x Soap || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.7K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: we're getting there.
Gaz's outfit is 100% a rip off of this fanart by the lovely @temeyes.
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Chapter 17: Guard Dogs
You don’t exactly know what you did to deserve this.
You really don’t.
You went on Tinder one time. One night after work.
So why the fuck do you have three men lurking around you like guard dogs?
Ever since the Ethan incident last Friday, they’ve been taking turns going to pick you up at work and walking you home.
Monday - Kyle
Tuesday - Simon
Wednesday - Kyle
Thursday - Simon
It wouldn’t be so bizarre if it weren’t for the fact that people (especially your coworkers) stare when there’s suddenly men waiting for you after work… 
Especially when one of them is a 6ft4 man that’s built like a fridge, giving everyone copious amounts of side-eye as they walk out.
And then you wonder why they ask you get asked questions the next morning.
Today, Friday, you exit work to see not one, not two, but all three of them, standing shoulder-to-shoulder. They look frankly adorable, all beaming at you as you come out of work and preening themselves a bit.
Kyle’s on the far left, wearing a cream-colored hoodie with a blue flannel shirt atop, black cargo pants and white and black Air Jordans. The hoodie is pulled up over his hair and his hands are tucked into the pocket of his hoodie.
Simon’s next to him, in the center, wearing black boots, jeans and a black parka with an inner pollar layer that’s zipped up all the way, so as to cover his mouth, in lieu of his usual mask. His hair is sticking up all over and you just know he put hairgel on it. 
Johnny’s on Simon’s other side, the far right, and wearing a pair of distressed blue jeans, a shaggy burgundy Ramones t-shirt and an unzipped grey hoodie jacket. Just like Kyle, he’s also wearing some Nikes and they’re so pristine and clean you’d swear he’s gotten them from the box a minute ago.
“Hi…?” You said in surprise as you adjusted the sling of your laptop bag on your shoulder.
“Hey!” Johnny greeted you.
“Hi, lovie.” Kyle said with a beaming smile.
“Hi, sweetheart.” Simon said simply and nodded upwards at you.
“What are you… doing?” You trailed off as you came to stand in front of them, your eyes going back and forth between them.
“Couldn’t decide who should come get you. So we decided to both come” Simon told you sincerely. “And since the two of us were coming, Johnny wanted to tag along.” He added.
“Why are ye talking like I’m a puppy that couldn’t be left at home by myself?” Johnny said with raised brows.
“Because you were begging for us to take you with.” Kyle retorted from Simon’s other side.
“Go fuck yourselves.” Johnny added. “You look nice.” He complimented you with a boyish grin.
“In my work uniform?” You retorted as you looked at him with a playful look of disbelief.
“Aye.” He replied. “Always love seein’ someone all knackered and sweaty after work.” He admitted.
“Johnny are you flirting?” Simon asked and he gave Johnny a look that could kill someone.
“Aye.” Johnny replied with a mischievous look in his eyes and pursed his lips together. “Is that forbidden now?”
“Mate…” Kyle quipped, his tone a soft warning.
“What? They already got two blokes after them, can have another one.” Johnny remarked with the same casualty of someone saying they ‘might as well have another biscuit from the box’.
You blinked away the surprise at the flirting. It was still bizarre to have one man like Simon interested… And you felt overwhelmed to have Kyle on top of it… And now Johnny too?
“Okay, erm… So… let’s go?” You announced and turned to start marching up the street to work before anyone could say anything else.
The guys followed behind you wordlessly, in a formation lead by Simon… like you were a mother duck and they were your ducklings… Or, rather, like they were your pack of guar dogs.
-
You’re standing by the door of your kitchen feeling like a guest in your own flat. 
Kyle and Simon are cooking… without even being asked. You stopped by the shop and they immediately announced they’d cook for you and… now they are.
Johnny’s sitting at the dining table behind you, sprawled open and sipping a can of Monster he got himself at the shop when you were all there.
“Okay, what’s up with you?” You announced as you watched the two men move about your kitchen as they made your meal. Simon’s was first in charge of chopping and dicing things… and now he’s in charge of frying… something, while Kyle takes care of basically everything else.
“What do you mean, lovie?” Kyle asks as he turns to glance at you while stirring something.
“You all came to pick me up together… And now you’re cooking for me…” You trail off as your nails clink a bit against the glass of wine they poured you. “What’s going on?”
“You’re adorably annoying with how perceptive you are, you know that?” Simon asks as he glances back at you as well before plucking something out of the frying pan and to a dish on the side. The oil sizzles loudly when he puts something else down to fry.
“Thank you.” You say with a playfully smug tone as you shift around. “But you didn’t answer the question.” You remark.
“After dinner, alright?” He answers and Kyle makes some sounds of agreement.
“They want to be yer boyfriends, officially.” Johnny says behind you and it causes you to whip around to look at him… Which also made Kyle drop whatever he was holding, in shock.
“SOAP!” Both Simon and Kyle shout, scolding the Scot who’s sitting at the table with a broad grin on his lips.
“You… You do?” You ask as you turn to look at them, mouth parted in surprise.
“Yeah...” Kyle replies as he looks at you. 
Simon simply nods and turns away to focus on the food he’s frying.
“I… I’m honored…” You admit and feel your cheeks warming up so bright you fear you’ll start sweating. “I…”
“I’d like a shot at it too, if ye don’t mind.” Johnny adds. Once again, all eyes turn to Johnny with another ‘JOHNNY?!’ which causes him to laugh.
“I’m serious.” He replies. “I’ll gladly date ye too.” He adds.
Your eyes widen. “You-”
“Mhm.” He adds.
“No.” Simon replies as he turns around once more.
“What do you mean ‘no’, L.T.?” Johnny asks in exaggerated offense.
“I mean, I don’t wanna date you.” Simon adds.
“I- Wait.” Now it’s Johnny’s time to get flustered. “Date me?” Poor lad, his whole face warms up bright red.
“Y-Yeah… Kyle and Simon kiss each other sometimes.” You announce and out of the corner of your eye you catch both of the other men stiffening up.
“I KNEW IT. I FOOKIN’ KNEW IT!” Johnny jumps up to his feet, spilling his Monster can on the table. “Ah, shite!” He says as he scrambles to pick it up again before it spills too much.
“What do you mean you knew it?!” Simon asks in shock.
“I KEN YE LIKE EACH OTHER! SAW THE WAY YOU SHARE THOSE COY LOOKS BETWEEN YE!!” Johnny shouts as he points a finger at the two men.
You’re pretty sure they’re all blushing now, you included.
“We didn’t share any looks!” Simon says defensively.
“DID TOO!” Johnny insists. “AND I TAKE OFFENSE TO YE NOT WANTING TO DATE ME, L.T.!” He adds. “I THOUGHT YE LIKED ME!”
Your eyes widen and you move your head side to side trying to keep up with the banter between them as Johnny marches his way into the kitchen so him and Simon can keep bickering.
“Are they always like this?” You find yourself asking Kyle, your eyes widened as they shout your house down.
“Yeah… This is a tame day for them actually. Should hear how they are on comms during missions.” He leans over to whisper in your ear.
“Ah…” You say softly. “I don’t know if I can handle dating this all the time.” You quip playfully, making Kyle laugh.
“You’ll get used to it.” He adds.
As you two continue watching the two men arguing, during which Simon is still, somehow, still tending to the food… You find yourself sneaking little pieces of carrot from the salad Kyle’s making.
Only to stop chewing halfway and let your piece of carrot fall right out of your hands when Johnny suddenly grabs Simon by his face and plants a big kiss right on the taller man’s lips. No warning.
At that moment, Simon looks every bit like Kyle did when they kissed for the first time. Perfectly statue-like still, eyes widened, both hands hanging in the air as if he was frozen…
Johnny’s hands are wrapped around Simon’s face, his palms over his ears, and fingers in his blonde hair, their mouths pressed together…
And then Simon comes back from the trance he’s in and his hands wrap around Johnny’s head too, his fingers digging into the back of his mohawk as their tongues battle together.
“Jesus Christ…” Kyle replies next to you, voicing your exact thoughts.
Once they pull apart, both the men are blushing red and out of breath, eyes widened.
“Ye’ll date me now?” Johnny replies.
Simon doesn’t reply, he simply turns around to finish cooking.
“I think that’s a yes.” You finally announce, finding your voice softly.
Johnny turns to look at you and smirks. “From him or from you?” He asks with a cocked brow.
“Both.” Simon quips with his back turned.
“I think that was the hottest kiss I ever witnessed.” Kyle says softly.
“I’ll give ye a smooch too, don’t get jealous, Gary.” Johnny quips and winks at Kyle.
Then, the Scot grabs a paper towel from the roll and walks toward the door to go mop up the spilled Monster from the table.
But not before he cups Kyle’s face and stealing a peck off his lips…
Then, he does the same to you… before licking his lips at the end. 
“Your wine’s tasty.” He adds, before slinking back out of the room.
You’re left blinking away the shock with an equally stunned Kyle next to you… And you’re pretty sure Simon’s stunned too…
Meanwhile, Johnny’s giggling to himself in the living room.
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understandableparadox · 2 months
Text
a comprehensive list of everything wrong with hazbin hotel.
quick note before i lose myself in madness, my standards for helluvaboss are non existent because its a free show on youtube. also i kinda like helluvaboss and i will indulge in any bias i damn well please.
oh and spoilers. i guess.
the greater narrative of the entire season is "White lady civilize inner city hoodlum". ex: The blind side. rich girl, affluent family yadda yadda.
the story is set up to be like amphibia, owl house, svtfoe, steven universe, that being starting as something episodic then transforming into story driven narrative. why? because we know the benefits and drawbacks, episodic starts allows us to wander the world, it allows us to understand the dynamics, we are not forced to reckon with anything because there is no deadline. characters are allowed to bloom and shine and the audience can actually get attached.
the source material is Vary Clearly formed from remnants of something out of a middle school edgelord narrative. the usage of transformation, the big spooky grins, the "and then i smile as my eyes glow and-"-isms which in most cases i don't mind because in some instances but in a vary Particular case its astoundingly annoying and that annoyance is like a mold, shit spreads quick.
the color Red. as a lover of homestuck cherubs and karkat and aradia, as someone who fucking loves the color red, it is so painful to say but holy shit tone it the fuck down, i know its hell but their are so many other colors that you can use, its everywhere, the streets, the air, the windows, the screens, the characters, i know the pride ring is represented with red but change up the palates every so often for backgrounds
the rush, this ties into the second point made but i think the story itself is rushed. we know everything way to early. i know way to much and it makes it hard to care about anything because im still trying to digest the last chunk of info. "oh ok, so they clear out hell once a year. oh hell has a heaven embassy? ok. oh that adam the angel, i though he wou- oh its every 6 months now. wait the exterminators die a lot? then why is everyone sca- people in hell already have weapons that can kill angels? w- oh we are in heaven now, ok ma- no one in heaven except for the elites know the exterminations occur? how do-" and its that, just this incessant rush to explain everything to you. notably that's just the god damn spark notes, we need to know everything about the characters now, every single bit of their story, their insecurities, what charlie needs to fix, how she can fix them, the major bad guys, everything. you are never allowed to dwell on a character because we need to rush towards something else. it almost feels like this should have been like... season three, it would have been a fantastic season three if you dropped the introductions honestly.
the concept of redemption. for a story of redemption to work you need to look at three things. What is there crime, Do they want to change, What is preventing them from changeing? there is only one single character that has a notable path of redemption, angel dust, but if you look through their story it feels off. What Exactly is he guilty of? he has sex, does drugs and drinks. his apparent nymphomania is tied to his sad backstory as someone forced into the sex industry so how is that their fault? then if you think about it you start to spiral and notice "hey why are most of these people in hell?" like sure some of them may deserve punishment but then you see the fucking dichotomy and its like "I was a inventor in england and died of the fucking plague, i may have made evil little contraption hoohoohoo" vs "I was a cannibal, a full on cannibal, i fucking killed people and ate them and then someone shot me". ONE OF THESE THINGS ARE A LITTLE MORE FUCKING EXTREME. i'm going to go fucking nuts, the thing they went to heaven with when presenting a case to angels on the idea that redemption and becoming a better person is actually real was angel dust not drinking at a party and not having sex with consenting adults and i want to go fucking insane. WHAT IS THE CRIME, WHO IS THROWING THE BOOK, WHAT DOES THE BOOK INTEL, ARE WE ON GOOD PLACE RULES?! half the cast dont Need redemption they need fucking help, and the other half of the cast do need redemption but they do not seek it making the point moot. sir pentious acts like he has the brain of a hyper intelligent toddler tossing about toys, its almost like he did his one bad thing of spying and then got caught, sank his little diddy about forgiveness and second chances and become a null point through out the rest of the series, sure their was Some weight to him sacrificing himself, he was a decently funny character and he had good moments but him popping up in heaven felt like a fore gone conclusion, he didn't deserve to be in hell so why do i care that he is suddenly in heaven? because its working on the concept the good place already made. no one actually deserves eternal punishment they just need help processing what makes them a dick, but instead of looking at all the parts of the afterlife that make it bad, inefficient and then creating and trying ideas to see if it work instead over a few seasons, we crash dick first into all the major plot points in regards to that and say "tada, we fixed it.".
having a sub-plot about sexual assault and its victims then having multiple sexual assault related gag ruins your point.
don't make a bunch of stereotypically jewish characters into cannibals, that was a big thing, really shouldn't have to say it.
if you are going to make a character black, make them black, you can say alastor was black but sweet seren-fucking-dippity that's not a black man.
pot meet kettle but yeah the cursing could be a little less liberal. maybe just blue hair or the pronouns, not both.
there is a very distinctive art deco/jazz aesthetic which normally i love but i feel as though it is not used to its full extent and in some cases really hurts the character design in and of itself.
this is a vary obvious bit but the story is a million times more interested in gay men then it is of lesbians, which culminates in this insane thing where the writers clearly have more talent or perhaps it would be more abt to say practice writing male gay pining then they are with lesbian pining. which i personally think is hilarious because i did not know you could min max fujoshi-ism that hard.
this next section is more to do with each character on a fundamental level, for the sake of brevity whatever there is left, i'm just doing ones with speaking roles.
13. Charlie:
(see what i mean about that red thing?)
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as originally stated charlie fits rather comfortably into every white saviour narrative, though that seems to be part of her joke. though i'm not entirely sure how much of a joke it can be when its rewarded and expected to advance the plot.
her character design says nothing, it has the motif of old puppets or dolls, she wears something vaguely similar to service suits, her demonic form is just some extra horns.not to say every character needs to have their life on a clothes rack but some more snake and goat imagery would be nice
its not the chol design of charlie with snake hair, not an actual problem but its a problem to me, damn you @cholvoq for ruining my ability to look at any of the characters without wishing i was seeing your designs instead.
character wise aside from the white savoir bit, i'm having a bit of trouble understanding what the arc of the character is. she is shown to be naive, someone who doesn't understand how the world works but everytime she says something its something astoundingly clear like "people can actually get better". and its treated like someone demanded faygo in every water fountain. is the joke that the world around her to cynical or is so to naive? please pick one or the other.
now if you know me, you know i fucking hate overpowered characters with a blinding passion, one that would set alit the god damn abyss but in this one special instance, i feel like its warranted, she's the direct descendant of fucking God, she can swing her weight around a little, i mean god damn. she in so many instances looks like shes cowering so often, why would the daughter of lucifer get backed down by some rando pimp? why wasn't she the one to fight adam? sure you can say she is young but how young? her parents were there since pre-abrahamic times, most of the characters showed up in hell in the 1900s, some of them showed up in the 1600s, how old is charlie??? how long does it take for her to learn how to be strong? The story does not suffer if charlie is strong and knows she is strong. it can easily be a case of "i don't believe in violence to a weird degree". fit it into her apparent naivety about the world to believe that violence is never the answer even when dealing with a being that is unilaterally horrible and abusive and monstrous.
she ga- no im kidding, i do think her romance was waysided a bit, it would have been fine to have more scenes of them togather and in love you know?
14. Vaggie
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why did you name the lesbian vaggie...? Don't do that maybe?
I like how her design is almost moth like but again i feel as though you could have amped that up.
she feels as though someone tried to combine undyne and pearl from steven universe, same story beats and design elements. it makes it hard to really distinguish her as a character.
i honestly dont have much to say about her. she is fine.
christ kill me, lets just get the big one out of the way
15. Alastor.
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God Damn
where to start.
"alastor is mixed race" mixed with fucking what? concrete? there is not a single black feature on that creature, now im not saying you have to make him a png of louie armstrong but it wouldn't hurt to add a curl to the hair maybe? make it a tiny bit more wavy? Something? a crumb i beg of thee?
his symbolism is all over the god damn place, native american monsters (you know the one), voodoo, radio, puppets, stitches, circuses??? and Tentacles i guess. two of those are from closed religions so if you dumped those you would actually get a more concise character focused on the concept of vox populi as a means of societal control and influence as we see in his first song. but again that gets drowned out repeatedly by all the other random toy box bits shoved into him.
tumblr sexy man bait
he serves no purpose in the story. he does spooky stuff, pretends to do things and then goes back to sitting around looking spooky. i understand that his motif is supposed to be aloof mastermind but maybe have him do more mastermindy things? if you remove most of alastors scenes, bar the songs, it doesn't change all to much. husk and nifity can still be at the hotel, they could be looking for outs in their contracts the same as angel dust. hell it even helps with the one scene where he dose some spooky shit, asking charlie for a favor in exchange for his help in the fight with the angels instead of asking him about angel weapons which should have remained a strictly vaggie scene.
his presence in a way delegitimize the story, as I noted in in the section regarding redemption, the three parts are "what is the crime, do they want to change, what is stopping them?" and alastor kinda just spits in the face of that. he is a serial killer cannibal that has no qualms about how evil he is and apparently must continue being evil due to being under the control under someone legitimately called the Root Of All Evil. show him take a slight interest in the idea that maybe shit for him could be better, make him Want Change at the bare fucking minimum or dont have him at the hotel.
his stupid little fucking horns, big shot the troll liker wants characters to have big fucking horns, make them noticeable or dont have them.
he looks more like a dog boy, which could have been an interesting thing with the collar motif but fuck me i guess.
personal pet peeve but i fucking hate characters that have a million plus powers, stick to a set number, be creative.
im getting more petty as i go on so last point: he could have been in less episodes, he didn't need to be in dad beat dad, that should have been just a lucifer and charlie episode. inverse the red and black and i think he would be fucking great color wise, his body type is the same as ten different characters, he isnt radio enough, aside from the voice and and staff if you told me he was the fucking Cat Demon i would have been just as convinced.
16. Angel Dust
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what the fuck, gay spider? its hard to actully articulate all the thoughts i have on angel dust, not in the sense that he is a deeply thought provoking character but in the fact that there is not much meat on the bones.
all around i think angel dust is kinda middling. he has a decent enough romance with husk, he has a decent enough story line that revolves around battling addiction and removing yourself from an abuser (which the story tries to brand as "Redemption???")
I dont like that most of his jokes would qualify as sexual harassment, i don't mind him being sexual as a character but continuing on when clearly someone doesn't like the jokes hurts the character.
not a critique but he is pink, which honestly ill fucking take at point, as long as its not more fucking red.
i think his design is an improvement over some of the old vivzie designs but it feels like it could have done with going a few more rounds of design changes.
same thing with alastor, charlie and vaggie, there is not enough of the animal that they are supposed to be. You could have told me angel dust was a fucking bee or something and i would have had to believe you. nothing about angel dust initially says spider, hell he dosent even have enough limps to be a fucking spider.
17. Carmilla carmine
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are... are you supposed to be a rabbit...?
Big Yoai Hands
ballet fighting style, could have been cool, wish she fought more like sanji or chun li.
A single mom that works to hard, who loves her kids and never stops-
her song was decent, not great, decent. it feels as though the actress has experience singing but not in the way they tried to make her sing during her two songs. they have a obvious mexican influence, honestly just let her sing in spanish in the english dub. go listen to the spanish dub, "out for love" sounds great in spanish.
i wish i had more thoughts on them, fucking rip.
18. cherri bomb
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that's not a punk aesthetic that's 2010s alt
decent character, they showed up once or twice i guess, no real thoughts.
19. egg boiz
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absolutely perfect, i have not notes on them, these are perfect creatures.
20. Emily
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im so fucking happy to see a singular blue character
does the naive dreamer bit better then charlie
We really shouldnt have seen her until the end of season two or middle of three.
good contrast with the other angels on screen.
Wait she is supposed to be black??? Where???
21. Husk
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keith david you absolute delight, Why on gods green earth did they only give you one singing part?
one of the few charecters where its clear husk is a cat, i do like the kinda... marquee design, he is a magic cat, thats neat. i still think you can toss the wings and eyebrows and still have just as good of a charecter.
has a deeply intresting story of someone who died as a nobody, became the fat cat of hell and then was forced back to the bottom by their own vices, not used at fucking all.
huge potential, little pay off.
22. lillith
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I know nothing about her except she ditched her kid and husband to vacation in heaven and i think thats kinda funny.
alot of werid things floating around her, again she shouldnt have been shown in the show at all until next season.
23. lucifer morningstar
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no notes, funniest charecter, did a song based on friend like me.
few notes: i do like the idea that the immortal symbol of pride is a constant emotional wreckage constantly seeking approval through grand showmanship and manic energy that threatens to take over anything they touch.
would have liked more snake stuff on him, maybe some more goat things like horns.
that is such a stupid fucking staff lmao.
24. Adam.
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alex brightman you absolute fucking delight, you should have had more songs.
I wish his design was more focused on the idea of him being a glam rock wash up
I fucking hate his mask
We shouldn't have met him until the end of the season.
25. Niffty
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again she is supposed to be a bug or cockroach but nothing about her points to that.
token straight
keeps rocketing back and fourth between sexulization and infantilization
you had kimiko glenn but didnt give her a single fucking song?
26. Sir Pentious
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the secret season one redeemed.
the pilot version of him felt more like someone that could do a season one redemption arc, a megalomaniac constantly attempting territory grabs, there is something you can work with, actual character flaws to work through.
essentially a child after the first episode.
actually a snake which i appreciate.
no where near steampunky enough.
27. the villians of the show dont make much sense, each one feels like they should be season long deals on their own instead of a bunch of team rocket esque idiots that show up on occasion, do a bad thing and then leave.
28. Valentino
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gOD THERE IS SO MUCH RED
only a moth some of the time.
sucks as a villain, maybe they need more screen time to show why they suck in a more substantial way aside from being told that he sucks.
it is interesting that angel dust is only under his magical control when in the studio, it shows that angel dust has to make a conscious choice to return, which in turn can be made to show how abusers can draw back their victims. I do not think it was done well in this circumstance as it shows him to be cartoonishly evil, constantly flying back and fourth between sweet and utter psycho, there is no actual reason for angel dust to ever actually go back to the studio, he just does so every so often.
29. Vox
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legit who cares? the only thing about him that is in any way substantial is all the dope ass fan art we get.
propaganda machine angle that is not explored at all, just hinted at. no actual barring on the story whatsoever.
why didn't he try to do the same shit as alastor by the way? he knows its bad if alastor gets in good with charlie so shouldn't it be a ass kissing race?
same body shape as literally every other male character.
tumblr sexy man version of pyrocynicals fursona.
30. Valvette
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the actual poster child of the shows huge problem of "Show me, don't tell me".
apparently the glue that holds the villains together. never shown.
apparently the one that makes the love potions that valentino is famous for. had to learn about that in the fuckin wiki trivias
we know so much about her from things outside of the show.
was there to call carmilla a coward, that's her plot contribution. she shows up every now and again but its never anything substantial and serves to more around take up run time for people We Don't Need To Know Yet.
im not trying to be mean, animation is animation, we need smaller studios to have success in the industry so that other indie studios can have that success, felling a tree makes it easier for others to follow. showing that its possible to number brain rot exacs helps all animators.
but this show has so much bullshit attached to it, it has so much fucking potential that it fries my brain with unyielding frustration.
this took a bit to write, im tired, thanks for reading.
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personasintro · 5 months
Text
A part of Mutual Help series!
pairing: mh!jungkook x reader
warnings: explicit language, Kiko is mentioned (this deserves it's own warning)
genre: fluff
word count: 1.8k+
a/n: Merry Christmas! ♡
Mutual Help Series
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“Oooh, what could be in here?” Taehyung muses, pursing his reddened lips that has gotten its own intense color thanks to the cold weather outside. 
What was he doing outside when you've been at this place for around an hour? Flirting, of course. 
“Knowing you, probably tons of condoms.” you answer, causing Taehyung to stop shaking the present he's just gotten from Jimin. It stops rattling under his grip as he shoots you a glare across the table. 
Unfazed, you reach with your chopsticks for a piece of meat before you put it in your mouth. Next to you, Jungkook cackles under his breath and Jimin looks proud by your little comment. 
“Well, miss I-don't-need-anyone, we all like to have our fun. Maybe you should try it.” Taehyung bites back. Though his tone sounds serious and deep with his thick accent, there's a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. 
You know how far you can take it to joke with each of your friends. Taehyung's got a thick skin and there's only so little you could actually say to offend him. Not that you would ever want to. Taehyung loves jokes and fun, he loves teasing and most of the time he's the one who takes it too far but never to actually cause a damage to your friendship. Whatever he says, you know should not be taken to heart literally. Therefore, no matter what he says about your single life – you don't take it as an insult. 
“Hooking up with a bunch of strangers? No thanks.”
He grins, “Maybe you should try it.”
“You offering?” you shoot right back, Jungkook choking on his soda as Jimin laughs out loud.
“You know what? Once you grow up a little, text me.”
You snort, “Stop acting as if I was a child.”
Taehyung shrugs, “No, but you're the baby of our group.”
Groaning, you frown. “Don't call me that.”
“Deny it all you want, Y/L/N but we all know the truth.”
“You guys scare almost every guy that looks at me. It beats the point of having fun.”
“Don't say shit like that, now! I'm all for you exploring and having fun.”
“Our point of fun is slightly different than hers, Tae.” Jimin comments, putting more meat to your plate as you thank him with a grateful smile. For the meat, of course. Although, he's not that off about the entire fun topic. 
“We all know what kind of fun we're talking about.”
“Alright, let's move on, yeah?” Jungkook calls, shaking his head at Taehyung.
“Here we go, protective Jungkook.”
“Why do you always somehow bring up sex in every conversation?” Jungkook scolds him.
Taehyung gasps, feigning offense as he points his finger at you. “First of all, she started talking about condoms!”
Jimin laughs out loud while you shoot him a glare for being too loud. God, you hope the owners won't kick you out. Talking so publicly about sex is often frowned upon. No one who wants to enjoy their meal wants to hear someone talking about sex from the other table. Unless those people are… open like Taehyung. He's always been a bit shameless. 
 Jungkook glances at you upon Taehyung's finger that's directed toward you. You shrug innocently. “So what? You automatically got into it.”
“You know it doesn't take too much for me.”
“That's true.” Jimin nods along with Taehyung's response. 
You laugh, “Just open the goddamn present, Tae.” 
He cracks a grin and starts laughing before he rips the package open. Surprisingly, it's not condoms – you would seriously laugh your ass out if it were – but it's a box of popular male fragrances in smaller versions. You recognize all of them, silently praising Jimin for this year's present. 
You all exchange presents for each other. There was an idea coming from Jimin, you think, last year to pick up a secret Santa for each year. But there's something special and thoughtful about buying everyone a gift. And it makes a slight burden to all your wallets, but nobody said the presents have to be expensive. Yet, they're always meaningful and nobody gives shitty presents here. 
You meet every year before Christmas since all of you spend it with your families. You've decided to make your own and celebrate it together, even if it's beforehand. This year it has to be because you're flying back home sooner than usual. 
They were kind enough to meet no matter what, said it wouldn't be the same if you weren't here. 
After that is done, Jungkook is the one to take you home since Taehyung came to pick you up. There's fog everywhere with snow sitting down and not melting anytime soon. You love when there's snow around Christmas time.
On your way home, it's not that late by the time you arrive. Jungkook helps you with your presents upstairs and accepts a cup of tea you offer him with a stern look. You're quick to shed the layers of clothes and make yourself more comfortable. You bring Jungkook his tea and make a hot chocolate for yourself.
“What you got in there?” you ask, plopping next to him as the warmth and scent of home hugs you. 
“A little something,” he says with a cheeky grin. 
Spotting the same Christmas wrapping paper he has used for all his presents, you give him a knowing look. You're about to protest and scold the shit out of him when he shakes his head with another grin. 
“Stop.”
“No, you stop!” you whine, “You already gave me your present.”
And it was great. Jungkook has given you two tickets to a water park that's located on Jeju Island. That alone tells you it wasn't quite cheap.
“It's not much, I swear.” 
“But why? We all decided on one present.” 
Grateful that he's so thoughtful, you're slightly annoyed that he broke the rule that perhaps never was so serious but it makes you feel bad. 
“Just because.”
“That's not a valid reason.”
“Sounds very valid to me,” he sings out, teasing you a little further as you both giggle. “You'll understand it once you open it.” he finishes it with that, urging you to open it.
Hiding the heat in your cheeks, you playfully roll your eyes and start unboxing the little box he has managed to sneak in his jacket. Curiosity and excitement takes over you because Jungkook's presents are always something else. You rip the package and gasp as soon as you recognize the familiar box.
“Kook!”
“You told me you ran out the other day.”
“Did you–”
“Bought it when Jimin bought Taehyung's present? Yeah.” He answers, already knows what you were about to ask. But you're too stunned to scold him for interrupting you.
You open the box and pull out your favorite perfume. A few weeks ago, you don't even know how that conversation came up but you mentioned to him that your perfume is running out indeed. It wasn't anything intentional of course, more of a whine when you were about to spray a tiny amount as you were about to go out. You thought he was barely listening to you, urging you to rush out your ass outside. His exact words. 
But he's always listening. 
“I think I'm gonna be more careful what I'm about to say in front of you. You're gonna buy me everything I mentioned.” you chuckle, taking a good inhale of your favorite flowery and powdery scent. You mostly use it during warm seasons but it's a good one even in the winter.
It's your staple scent. Everyone knows it. It's special. You were using it back at home and it not only smells incredible, it also holds a certain emotional attachment you have with it. 
“Don't worry about that, you're out of my budget.” 
You kick the side of his thigh as you cross your legs under your butt, carefully placing the bottle on the table next to the ripped wrapping paper. “I wanted to buy it after Christmas.” 
“You don't have to anymore.”
You give him a look, questioning his answer for everything as he simply justifies his thoughtfulness in the most basic manner. He always brushes it like it's nothing. But it's very special to you. He is. 
In seconds, you wrap your arms around him and hug him tightly. He lets out a surprised gasp, a low chuckle escaping his lips as he hugs you back. He's warm, smells like a mixture of his wooden cologne and winter air. 
“Thank you.” you mumble into his shoulder before you slowly pull away. “But seriously, you should stop spending so much money on me. Don't you have a girlfriend to spend money on?”
As far as you know, she's fine with it but who knows. Jungkook isn't the type to let anyone get into your or guys' friendships. But he's also in love and people in love tend to be slightly blind, if you must say so. Not that you speak from your own experiences but well, it's quite known. And Jungkook is definitely in love. 
“Don't worry about Kiko,” he assures you, “She'll get a good amount of presents too.”
“Well, I hope she loves you for you and not for your bank account.”
He scowls, causing you to give him a childish toothy grin that acts innocent. “She's not like that.”
“But I'm serious, you should stop spending so much money on people. Especially on me.”
“I spend my money however I want and you know what?” he asks with a grin, leaning closer to you as you watch him with wide eyes. “It's none of your business.” he flicks your nose with his thumb causing you to cuss him out as you push his forehead to get him away from your proximity. 
“So really, just accept it.”
“You're stubborn.”
“You're telling me?” he laughs out loud as if you just told him the biggest joke.
Rolling your eyes again, you purse your lips. “I wanted to be nice, you moron.”
“Be nice by just accepting it. And the simple thanks is just enough, not needed though. The hug was very nice.”
You slap his arm in a teasing manner which causes him to laugh even more. “I'll hug you for the rest of my life.”
“Promise?” he smirks. 
“I promise.” you giggle, nodding.
“Well, then Merry Christmas.” 
“Merry Christmas, Kook.” you smile, the warmth spreading all over your heart. Even though this year hasn't been all rainbow and sunshine, it's alright as long as you have these people right beside you. 
Who cares about presents? They're nice and show the thoughtfulness behind them by each of your friends. What you need the most is just them. And the special relationship you have with each of them will hopefully last your lifetime. Because if it doesn't, nothing will ever be the same. 
Without them you would feel lost. At the moment, you're anything but lost. You have your second family, hoping this tradition between you never dies and will continue years and years.
2K notes · View notes
rowenablade · 7 months
Text
Okay. I’m going to wait to do a second watch before I articulate most of my other feelings here, but I want to address one thing.
I’m seeing a lot of posts like, “I related to Izzy because I am also queer and older/disabled/depressed. By killing him off, the writers are saying that I deserve to die.”
Guys.
I’m not saying your feelings aren’t valid. I totally understand grieving a character that you relate to. But speaking as a writer, I just want to point out that trying to write with the shadow of “what is the absolute worst and most harmful way a reader can interpret this” will smother your ability to create. Twisting yourself in knots, trying to think up the worst-faith takes possible and scotch-guarding all your writing decisions against them is exhausting to the point of making you just not want to write anymore.
And we’ve seen the writers deliberately choose not to do this in Season 1. Remember all those terrible “Izzy is racist” takes that the writers and cast seemed completely blindsided by? That happened because the writers and directors and actors weren’t going over every scene with a fine tooth comb, ferreting out every shot or line of dialogue or micro expression that could possibly be interpreted as racist, and scrubbing it off. Because there comes a point where your story is what it needs to be, and you have to accept that some people will interpret it in ways you didn’t intend them to. And if you can’t accept that, you’ll never find the courage to put your work out there.
The point of diverse casts and writing teams isn’t to achieve a state of, “Nothing bad ever happens to a character from a marginalized demographic ever again.” It’s to achieve a status quo of these types of characters just being people in the world of the story. Not symbols, not representation boxes to tick, not tokens that you can point to so that you can say, “Here, we acknowledged this type of person exists, now where’s our woke points?”
OFMD is full of characters of color, queer characters, older characters, characters of differing body types. And in stories, things happen to characters. Some fall in love. Some make the same mistakes over and over. Some turn into birds. Some die.
Izzy’s character represents a lot of things, but he does not represent every older, disabled fan or fan who has struggled with suicide, any more than Jim represents all genderqueer fans, or Olu represents all black fans. That’s not how the writers were handling him. They were handling him like a character, because that’s what you have to do.
Again, I understand being sad. I am so, so fucking sad. But this idea of, “Any time something bad happens to a character I relate to means that the writer thinks I deserve these bad things to happen to me,” will poison everything you engage with eventually. Because stories are full of things happening to characters, and they won’t all be good things. And the more representation we get, the more often bad things will happen to characters we relate to.
But good things will happen too.
Queer couples get married. Disabled women run off with their favorite husbands. Middle-aged characters change careers. A multiracial polycule finds a home at sea. A fat man covered in tattoos stars in a drag show and all his friends cheer. All these things happened in the same show as Izzy’s death. This is what this world is.
Anyway. I know emotions are running high and I’ll probably get blocked or unfollowed by a few people for this. But I’m just trying to find my peace where I can, and if anyone else finds this useful, cheers.
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saturngalore · 2 months
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afrofuturism🪐
☆ one ~ solange hair by darknightt (tsr warning) ☆ two ~ loretta hair by @simtric ☆ three ~ bahati braids by @sheabuttyr ☆ four ~ isonoe hair by octetsica ☆ five ~ binah braids by @sheabuttyr ☆ six ~ cornrows & curls hair by @leeleesims1 ☆ seven ~ indie hair by @sashima ☆ eight ~ loc petals by @shespeakssimlish ☆ nine ~ mnemosyne hair by octetsica ☆
mini dedication essay to black simmers and ts4 creators below! pls read if you have the chance! <3
this edit is a small homage to afrofuturism and the various unique black hairstyles (and especially the black creators of most of these hairs) that i have downloaded and admired over the years! some of these are old and some of these are new.
to me, afrofuturism means constantly honoring/reclaiming/challenging the past while constantly creating/dreaming of a better society/world/future. a society/world/future that embraces and empowers all of our differences, ingenuity, aspirations, and unique lived/cultural experiences. a society/world/future that does not limit us through the various systems of marginalization and oppression (racism, homophobia, transphobia, fatphobia, sexism, xenophobia, ableism, classism, colorism, etc.) that often affects how we, as black people, live today.
blackness is so diverse and intricate yet it's always been a struggle to find my culture within a game that's known for being so limiting, bland, and extremely eurocentric when it comes to hairstyles, clothing, food traditions/events, etc. black simmers have always had to figure out how to make this game more inclusive and make it resemble either more like how our ancestors lived, how our current lives are, or how we would want our lives (and even our children's lives) to look like in the future no matter how dystopian the real world look and feel now. fortunately, these hairs and their uniqueness bring a huge sense of culture and style to this game. they have always inspired me and made me feel extremely proud to a part of the lovely african diaspora (and the ever-growing black simmer community).
in a way, being a black simmer and cc creator usually means that we are often digitally creating our own worlds as afrofuturists to varying degrees (whether we know it or not) every time we open our game, make our sims, make houses, and/or make black cultural cc. also, now i know that cc making is not easy to do and is extremely time-consuming so this post is also just me giving all black cc creators especially those who create for free their well-deserved flowers! here are some other black cc creators who created cc that have greatly impacted my game since i first started playing sims 4: @/leeleesims1 @/simtric @/hi-land @/yuyulie @/sims4bradshaw @/ebonixsims @/xmiramira @/sheabuttyr @/qwertysims @/oplerims @/sleepingsims @/shespeakssimlish and so many more im forgetting probably (im too shy rn to tag ppl but i greatly appreciate y’all fr i hope y’all telepathically get this message somehow 😭).
last but not least, i am hoping that this inspires somebody to keep creating or start creating regardless of what they think their skill level is! somebody will absolutely fall in love with your work and/or your art/work will 100% change someone's game forever <333
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little-star-library · 2 months
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Headcanons: Playing with Astarion’s Hair
Summary: Just some soft and fluffy headcanons about playing with Astarion’s hair. That man deserves to be coddled and pampered with all of the affection.
At first, Astarion didn’t care for anyone to touch his hair other than himself. After years and years of seducing so many people to lure back to his former master, there were plenty of people who had tangled their fingers through his hair and he developed a feeling of disdain and loathing at the sensation whenever someone got too close, like a hot brand that persisted until he was numb from the pain because none of it was ever real to him. It was all an act that he had to endure. But somehow that wasn’t the case when it came to you. You were different from everyone else. And it was frustrating beyond measure to accept the fact that he began to accept your touch more and more as the two of you grew closer.
It started with small, fleeting brushes of your fingers when you noticed the leaves and small twigs that got caught in his hair after a run in with some goblins. He hesitantly let you pluck out the debris and a twinge of warmth emanated from his undead heart at your gentle ministrations.
From then on, he would purposefully dishevel his snow colored waves and come to you with the excuse of the lack of his own reflection, saying that he only trusted you to fix it because Karlach would surely singe his hair by her own touch and Halsin’s hands were too large and would crumple his hair even more. You knew what he was doing, but secretly you didn’t mind at all.
“There we go, good as new.” You would say this every time with a smile and even though you would love to keep stroking his hair, as soft as it was, you would never cross that boundary unless he expressed his full consent to do so. You knew of his past and empathized with him not being comfortable with non-sexual intimacy because it was a foreign concept to him. He never got to personally experience something so simple and loving as that. And gods help him did he want you to keep going, but never really knew how to ask without embarrassing himself.
Luckily for him though, he didn’t have to wait too long before the opportunity arose. It was after the first time he convinced you to sleep with him and the two of you were laying in the grass under the starry night sky and he was nuzzling against the crook of your neck, trying to catch his breath even if it wasn’t really necessary. You were caressing his shoulders and your hands began to wander up to the curls at the nape of his neck and tentatively pet his hair , but you pulled away briefly so as not to upset him.
“No, don’t stop…please.” His voice came out as a soft whisper and he tightened his grip around your waist like you were going to disappear if he let you go and it made you melt from the inside to see him like this, and you didn’t need to be asked twice. You went back to entangle your fingers through his hair once more and lightly scratched at his scalp and he let out a hum as a silent ‘thank you’ and practically started purring when you kissed the crown of his head. The world around you began to blur until it was just you and him and there was nothing else that mattered other than this moment, and he silently pleaded for the sun to never rise so he could bask in your embrace just a little longer.
And after that night, he was hooked. Every night he would actively search you out and you would never turn him away. By now it was a common occurrence to spend the night in the privacy of your tent in comfortable silence by each other’s side while the rest of your traveling companions were asleep, usually with him reading a book and you playing with his hair as he rested his head in your lap.
One of his favorite pastimes however was when you would offer to wash his hair. You always thought he looked ruggedly handsome and carnal when he was in his element. You know it’s kind of off-putting to be attracted to something like that, but the sight of him when he had blood splattered across his cheeks and twisted into crimson ribbons throughout his hair was downright breathtaking. But you knew from your own experiences in battle that after a while, the blood cools and congeals into a sticky, wet mess on your skin and it was awfully discomforting after walking under the hot sun all day. Although Astarion would rather prefer an actual proper bath compared to scrubbing down in a freezing lake, he still insisted on using these special soaps and pomades which he may have acquired not so honorably stating that he wouldn’t be caught red-handed walking around smelling like ‘orthon roadkill’
He would give you detailed instructions on which products to use as you went and you dutifully complied just to see his expression turn to one of instant contentment as you scrubbed gently at his scalp to work the soap through the strands until the blood washed away and he was slowly oozing into a puddle of relaxation, almost slipping away into a short trance to rest his weary body. He would gladly return the favor in kind, making sure to wipe every patch of dirt and grime away until you were clean, his dexterous fingers feeling like an absolute godsend as they nimbly stroked thoroughly in your hair and he would smirk with pride when he had you moaning so sweetly just with his delicate touch.
He always enjoyed these small acts of intimacy that you shared with him and you helped show him a side of affection that was completely different from what he knew. There were no strings attached, no obligations he had to fulfill because there was no need for that. You were just expressing your care for him and you didn’t need to be repaid, always insisting on doting on him with your kindness and that made him nervous. He thought that after years of torment he would never actually catch a break or deserve any sort of reprieve after all of the awful things he went through, but you were his saving grace, the light at the end of the dark tunnel of his lonely existence. But as long as you were there, holding him in your arms and indulging him with your soothing touch, he felt like he could get used to this.
“You are worth so much more than you think, Astarion. I know it’s hard to see that, but I am willing to do whatever it takes to show you that.” Your hushed words struck him to his core and he desperately tried to contain the tears welling in his eyes from falling, pulling you closer to him as you both laid in your bedroll and left a chaste kiss on your lips in reverent gratitude. Although you two had only known each other for a short time now, you had already fallen for him and vice versa. There was no need to come to terms with your relationship until he was ready and if playing with his hair had been the beginning of your virtuous tenderness towards him, then he could not wait to see what else you had in store.
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kalki-tarot · 2 months
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A message from your future spouse
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Pick one picture and allow me to tap into your energy.
Pile 1
7 of swords, king of pentacles, the hermit
"Some people are trying to let u down behind your back. Some people are trying or will try to trick you into misery, please be careful. I know I'm not in your life right now, I'll be there soon though. I'm working on myself. I will try my best to become the best so that i can protect you from everyone and everything you don't like, my love. Please allow yourself to relax and stay calm till I enter your life. Stay safe and happy."
Pile 2
The emperor, 7 of swords, wheel of fortune
"No matter how hard you or we try, we can't escape our destiny. What is meant to happen, will happen. And we need not worry ourselves about it. We can't control the things that are not in our hands. We should not even try to, because we will end up becoming a block for ourselves and our union. Take however it resonates. But you need to let go of control and be in a flow state. Don't block what is meant for you. You will end up creating more problems."
Pile 3
The fool, nine of pentacles, 8 of pentacles, tower, Temperance
"I'm working day and night, so that i can provide for us. I want to give you a lifestyle that you deserve. Call me a fool for running behind materialistic things but i can't see you struggle because of me. I just went through a big tower moment and I've seen how worse things can be. What's wrong in getting some finances ready behind us? I don't know what comes next, but I'm sure things are getting aligned for both of us. Just be there."
Idk the energy was a bit scattered so the messages were kind of mixed up. Yellow can be significant color.
Pile 04
The moon, three of pentacles, 5 of swords
"This emotional and hurtful period of separation will end soon. Look at the lessons it thought us! We have become better individuals now. Better than who we were yesterday. The war will end soon and things will definitely calm down. It's just that my energy is too scattered right now that it's stopping us from coming into union. But I'm working on myself, I may be slow, but it's better to take things slowly and make it last forever."
They have fire signs in their chart.
This reading is only for entertainment purposes and is not 100% correct. Kalki tarot is not responsible for any decisions you make in your life from this reading. Please take what resonates and leave the rest as it's a general reading. Remember your life in your own hands. These are just predictions and can be inaccurate.
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ghostlyferrettarot · 29 days
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◆Pick a picture: 🪩Random messages from your soulmate🪩
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•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3
❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️
✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open.
♥︎If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!♥︎
🪩Masterlist🪩
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🪩Pile 1:
♥︎" You will be at the top of the world soon"
♥︎" It's time to focus"
♥︎" I love what you do with your hair"
♥︎"The better days are coming, you can sense it too, right?
♥︎" I'm always by your side, when you feel lonely just remember me"
♥︎" Just speak your mind love, you make the rules"
♥︎" Get better rest, you deserve that"
🪩Signs: Butterflys, Sharks, The nature breeze, green, spring time, gold jewerly, dimples.
♥︎I feel like soulmate wants you to take a well deserve vacation or rest time pile 1, you may be dealing with a lot at the moment and your body and mind need to recharge. I also see that you are a perfectionist at heart, they want you to take it easy and be kinder with yourself, you will reach your goals, don't worry.
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🪩Pile 2:
♥︎" Your smile it's worth a millon dollars"
♥︎"Enjoy the present, we still don't know what's coming next"
♥︎"I need anyone else, you are my favorite already"
♥︎"Don't be so grumpy"
♥︎"Buy the thing, treat yourself, it will make you happy"
♥︎"I'm happy when you are happy"
♥︎"I don't like mornings but you sure make them better"
♥︎"Let's just be you and i for a moment"
🪩Signs: Minimalist aesthetic, you may see them in dreams, clouds, polar bears, blue and white, pink, picnics dates.
♥︎Pile 2 your soulmate wants you to prioritize your happiness right now, i see that you are someone who always put everyone else first; your person says that although they love this about you, you can't lose yourself taking care of others. It's time for you to enjoy and care for yourself the same ways you do with others. They love and care for you really deeply.
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🪩Pile 3:
♥︎"I love the way you look at me"
♥︎"Let's go on adventures together!"
♥︎"Can i come over? Can i hug you tonight?"
♥︎"I'll literally buy anything you are selling"
♥︎"I can hear you talk for hours, just admiring you"
♥︎"I'm clingy but i know you love it ;)"
♥︎"You are the ying to my yang, no one compares to you my love"
🪩Signs: Cats, Fruits , Air signs, Complementary colors, Videogames and music.
♥︎Pile 3 your person it's so fun, i feel like the both of you will make an incredibly couple. Both will share a lot of inside jokes, there's a level of complicity that's so precious between you two 😭. This person may communicate with you through music. You two will share a lot of hobbies and could possibly start a business together. You are my "Friends to Lovers" pile.
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🪩Thanks for reading and tell me if it resonated🪩
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inkskinned · 10 months
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they don't see it, because it is around them like air. to them, it would have to be through movies, through magazines. they think it happens outside of life, like it must be selected to be interacted with.
but you discovered in the fifth grade that you couldn't wear shirts with words on them, it was an excuse for someone to look at your chest. you were catcalled before you were in middle school. sometimes you look at that memory and deny it - surely that can't be right, you were young. but you were in a skirt, so maybe that was a natural byproduct. it was a skirt from that place "justice by limited too" - a store literally for kids. it was popular around then. you wore that skirt twice and then never again.
you can't wear headphones, because what if a man wants to talk to you? there's a guy on the internet who complains that women shut themselves off from being approached. at night, you often keep the headphones positioned but with the sound off, just in case you need to hear something behind you.
you learned at 12 that you can't make eye contact, don't acknowledge the aggression. just walk faster and hope he picks on somebody else. don't wear your hair like that. do not park next to that kind of car, park an entire cityblock away if you must.
you can't go to the museum, you're sitting and tying your shoe when he approaches you and mentions that nobody understands art anymore. that in the whole world, it's just you-two. you have no recourse for eating a meal (it's rabbit food if it's salad, and someone will roll their eyes, eat a sandwich. it's pick-me behavior if it's a burger, we get it you're a cool girl). if you like mushrooms you are cottagecore, which is cheesy. if you like video games you're an egirl (similar to a pick-me). boys do not get categories, but if you point out the categories are sexist, you are told okay but these girls really exist.
it is somehow developing, a little undercurrent that you've been uncomfortable with. the nickname "karen" went from being "a white woman that uses her whiteness as a weapon, particularly against people of color," to now mean "any woman raising her voice or being even a little upset." the reappropriation of a term used specifically to call out white women for their racism has set your skin on edge. now it is just another version of "bitch," one that can be said on television. recently you saw a woman get called a karen because a drunk driver sideswiped her, and she screamed when it happened. the comments on the dashcam video all say "why do women always scream about everything." "when has the world ever been bettered by women screaming." "this fucking karen. she deserved to get hit."
in the sitcom, it's a joke that the wife is furious; slamming her hands down into the sink. i do everything around here, might as well do this too. in your house, your father is always in-his-office. before you know better, your first boyfriend is the type to say it's just easier for you. you used to beg him to take you on dates. he used to make a big deal about it, about the sacrifice of effort, even if you were the one who did most of the planning.
someone on the internet makes a "POV: the most boring person you've ever met" where he puts a towel on his head and just talks like a normal person. his impression of a boring woman is just a woman that is talking about her pretty-average life without exaggeration.
you are sometimes actually sad in the reverse, because actually you did used to struggle to pay attention in conversations. you were also easily bored of normal things, your adhd pinging off of every radio tower in the vacinity. it took time and therapy and patience, and now you delight in the small things about your friends. you like having them show you their organizational systems and talk about their taylor swift tickets. you are entertained by them because you learned to be, even though your brain is structured to only be excited by novelty. you kind of hate the idea that the reason your father will never actually pay attention to you is that you're no longer interesting. eventually the shine wore off, and you were just a person, not a spaceship. he never learned how to just, like, form an actual intimate friendship. it was always at a distance, this sense - emotional closeness was too much. (and yes. he's homophobic).
you're already tired of whatever the fuck is happening with the words "divine feminine", a rancid take that is basically just a rebranding of the patriarchy in action. what the fuck do they mean "being small and delicate and needing protection" is feminine. the words they are looking for are that they want a partner, not that their desire for equivalent support is relegated to gender. the human desire for community is not actually gendered at all. also, what fucking wolves are these "divine masculine" men even battling. fuckken taxes? shouldn't their "desire to protect" also mean "protect you from emotional neglect", or are all emotions off-limits (and how sad would that be. that's a horrible bar to set.)
and they tell you it's really not bad actually, because it's just there. they suggest you get off the internet or you stop reading that book or you stop thinking so hard about the movie or you stop just-being-a-feminist because honestly it's a killjoy sort of thing and then you tilt your head to the side and there's that little siren in the back of your head. if things were actually fine, being a feminist wouldn't put a stop to anything, it would go completely unnoticed, because you wouldn't have any comment to make about any of this
but you are ruining your own life, they tell you. also, girls don't sit like that. also, all girls are catty. also, all girls are bad drivers. also, all girls just need a cute bracelet and an iced coffee.
you do like iced coffee, is the thing. when you close your eyes, the world around you has this strange note to it. and once you hear it, it never stops ringing.
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mr-ribbit · 4 months
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this isn't meant to soften or reduce the objective transmisogyny + additional hate action going into this, but since the people running these harassment campaigns are acting like they're literal baby children who need their hands held to understand anything, maybe this needs to be said:
what you're doing and how you treat trans women on this website is fucking MEAN. if you want to sit there and honestly convince yourself that you're *not* a transmisogynist or a transphobe or a misogynist or any other type of bigot - like if you genuinely believe that and are confused why people are calling you these things - then maybe we need to start from little primary colored building blocks and tell you that you're being fucking mean and rude and actively harmful to real people who read the things you say. im not sure why we need to start off with "trans women have feelings" - just kidding I know exactly why we need to - but maybe you don't.
no matter who you're talking to, do you honestly think accusing someone you do not know of being a pedophile, en masse, behind their back /and/ in a public forum, is a reasonable way to treat someone for making a tumblr post about video games or political opinions? even if you strongly disagree with the post, you think someone deserves to be treated like that by people they don't know? take a second please and sincerely imagine how that would feel. wouldn't it be scary? wouldn't you wonder who the people were who thought this about you - if they're people you know - if they're just a few people that will continue saying mean things to you forever or if there are thousands of people who choose to dedicate their time and energy specifically to making you feel bad? if you accidentally write a post in the wrong tone or unknowingly interact with a shitty person, that there are uncountable people that will keep track of that just to hurt you later? that's fucking horrifying
and to zone in on what's specifically happening here: do you think randomly accusing people of being pedophiles or sexual abusers has no effect on them? like a lot of you tend to excuse yourself in these discussions by saying "I didn't actually see the context of what they were saying" or "I didn't see that they apologized already" or "I didn't actually understand the post was a joke" or whatever other kneejerk response to make sure *you* aren't seen as a bad person. do you realize that makes you look even meaner? you didn't bother to actually follow up on a thought you had about someone before sending them hateful messages or making public accusations about them? those actions are harmful whether or not you like the victim at the end of the day.
believe it or not some people you send this shit to are survivors of abuse themselves, or have their own historical personal reasons to be weighing in on a touchy subject. when you baselessly decide it's ok to call someone an abuser of any type, that person is probably *also* disgusted by whatever horrible shit you're accusing them of. as someone that hates these things as much as you do in order to attack someone for them: what do you think it's like to have complete strangers think that about you? how many eggshells would you walk on if random people thought so little of you that they were ok doing this?
it's mean. it's heinous, cruel bullying, and if you genuinely think you are not doing it from a place of transmisogyny or hatefuk bias over the victims' identity, then you need to understand that that's not an excuse. "i didn't even know she was trans" ok, it was still mean to call her a pedophile with 200 of your closest friends in public. "im trans so it can't be transphobia" ok it was still mean to assume someone was endorsing abuse when they were talking about being accused of abuse. "i didn't see the post where she said it was a joke" ok it was still mean to actively harass someone without bothering to look into the full context.
at the end of the day, yes, obviously I still think you're all transmisogynist assholes who are clearly willing to gang up on a woman who has nothing to do with your problems simply because she dared to speak on them. i think you're bigoted and unwilling to examine that if it means giving up your vitriol against someone who doesn't like your favorite video game or whatever excuse of the week. but like even if you were just doing it for love of the hate game, it's fucking weird heinous shit and i hope you're happy having that be a central part of your life
to be clear: im not transfemme and if I'm overstepping or talking over anyone please let me know. im not speaking for anyone's actual experiences except my own, which is the experience of being angry at how much literal bullying and harassment I see excused on this so-called progressive queer blogging website
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chaoticace2005 · 3 months
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Reasons the Mothman should die, collectively written by the residents of the Hazbin Hotel:
Coding for Characters: Vaggie, Charlie, Pentious, Alastor, Niffty, Husk, pretty much everyone
TW: References to abuse
He’s holding back Angel’s progress. (Vaggie, is killing really necessary?) (I am concerned about going after a Vee)
I’m hungry (ALASTOR!)
Ms. Angel gets nervous when on the phone with him.
His coat is tacky.
He’s a bug! And bugs must be DESTROYED!
So Angel stops feeling like he has to be so damn fake. This is getting on my fucking nerves.
HE LICKED CHARLIE!!! (Vaggie, wait it’s okay.)
Color scheme sucks. Purple AND red?!
He makes Angel sad, NOBODY should make Angel sad.
Those obnoxious glasses just make him look stupid.
He’s a manipulative, abusive prick.
ANGEL DIDN'T KNOW BOUNDARIES WERE A THING?!?!?!?!?!? (Honestly that explains a lot.)
NOBODY deserves to be in an abusive relationship.
Too many arms. Nobody needs that many. (...Angel has that many?) (Well maybe he shouldn't.)
Ms. Angel keeps coming home all messy!!
He’s ruining hearts for everyone. Me and Angel already have enough. At least those are on our bodies, what’s his excuse?
Hearts should not even be ASSOCIATED with Valentino, THIS IS NOT LOVE.
I can do without all the sexual depravity. While I am in Hell this is NOT one of the reasons.
If I have to hear that ringtone one more damn time-
The Eggies found some of his films. They should never be exposed to such horrors. Now I have to explain what “a sex” is.
Makes picture shows that are a disgrace to the idea of “entertainment.”
He’s making a bad name for Uncle Ozzie. This is NOT “lust.”
So we don’t have to listen to another one of Angel’s pornos. (Agreed, it’s quite horrifying!!)
So Ms. Angel isn’t tired when she gets home and can save the kinky stuff for then :) (Niff, really?)
So the kid stops coming home with bruises and cuts that I fix up at 3 am. (Husk, what the fuck?)
Because what the FUCK Valentino?
He keeps forcing Angel to do drugs. (HE WHAT?! Like crack??) (That but also I’m pretty sure whatever comes out of him is an aphrodisiac.)
I want to use his antenna as a backscratcher
Has that whole red color thing going on. Only I am allowed to wear red :) (Al, your text isn’t even red.) (My what?)
What is up with his red spit and smoke? Seriously disgusting.
The red stuff from him may be what allows Velvette to create her “Love Potions” which funds Vax’s stupid endeavors (Do you mean Vox?) (Who?)
FOR MY COLLECTION :D (…yeah okay.)
Really is making a bad name for Overlords. And not in the fun way.
Angel’s shown trauma signs of abuse in our meetings. Im pretty sure it’s Valentino.
Make a doll out of his fur so I have a main villain for roach puppet shows!!!
His only purpose is to keep Veks occupied but considering Vixen’s inane attempts to catch my attention it isn’t working.
So Angel can have his soul and he and Husk can run off into the sunset together like in a fanfiction!!! (Ah, yes that would be nice.) (WE WHAT?!) (Oh Husker, denial doesn’t suit you.)
So Angel can get a good boyfriend THAT’S NOT ME to stop these bullshit allegations.
So Angel can admit his feelings to Husker because our cat surely isn’t going to be the first to do it. (ALASTOR I SWEAR TO GOD!)
Who knows how many other people he’s abusing.
Seems to give Vicks confidence. He has enough of that as is. It much more fun to destroy him.
He makes Angel sad which makes Cherri sad!
HE HIT ANGEL!!!
Called my dear Rosie an "old hag" NOBODY CALLS ROSIE AN OLD HAG.
Angel is a good friend and deserves so much better.
I’ve forgotten what moths taste like.
He keeps trying to get Angel to move out :(
Told the kid he had to lose weight. What the actual FUCK. (Ill kill him.)
He’s annoying and looks quite stupid. How has this not been added yet?!
He’s making a bad name for Spanish speakers everywhere. (Yeah it’s embarrassing.) (Wait… what?)
He’s making a bad name for pansexuals everywhere.
He’s making a bad name for wing-holders everywhere. (HE HAS FUCKING WINGS?!) (Oh, yeah, I didn’t tell you?)
Too tall. This is ridiculous.
Won’t admit he’s blind so he’s become even more of a public safety hazard.
If I get one more transmission of him and Box commiting lascivious acts someone will be eaten. I don’t care who. What the purpose of these are I don’t know. Advertisement? (I think it’s to make you jealous boss.) (Ha! Jealous of what? Mediocre sex with a pathetic excuse for a businessman with a TV as a head?)
Because Angel deserves fucking better.
911 notes · View notes
redbullgirly · 2 months
Text
HI BABRIE! HI KEN! [part 3, LH44 smau]
Lewis Hamilton x pregnant!reader [social media au]
Masterlist & Hi Barbie! Hi Ken! [part 1, LH44 smau] & Hi Barbie! Hi Ken! [part 2, LH 44 smau]
Summary: Lewis and his "real-life Barbie" girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N have a secret they keep from the fans. Though it's only matter of time before they announce the happy news... it's not like it can stay hidden forever anyways.
Warnings: Pregnancy. Slight hate and bodyshaming towards Y/N. If you're not in the right headspace, please don't read it!🫶
Author's Note: After quite some time, hello! I'm so sorry this took so long, but life has been so busy and hectic last month I simply didn't have time and energy to write this sooner. Though I'm very glad for everyone who waited for this part and I hope you'll like it. It's probably not the last one, I have few ideas for more parts. But I don't want to promise anything, we all know how long this part took XD.
lewishamilton posted on instagram
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liked by orlandobloom, f1, sebastianvettel, emmawatson and others
tagged: yourcharity
lewishamilton So proud to support charity program for the involvement of children from disadvantaged families in sports yourusername has been working on for a few years now. All money raised from the friendly basketball match goes to the fond of the charity. Let's change lives of these talented kids together! 💫🙏🏾
view all 18,349 comments
user1 basketball players should be grateful our king chose to be f1 driver 😌
user2 fr
yourusername together we can change the world for better!! 💫💕
liked by the author
user3 You make our lives better by existing Y/N😍😍
user4 I think this is too idealistic lol
user5 queen speaking facts and keeping us motivated
user6 LET HER COOK 🗣🗣🗣
user7 Sir Lewis Hamilton is Sir for a reason 👑
mercedesamgf1 🙏🤍
user8 even though he'll be driving for ferrari next year mercedes still supports him!!!
user9 and what did you think? that they'll ignore him or hate him suddenly? he still got a whole season w them 🤣 plus it's all marketing
user10 nah i'll just live in delusion that admin loves lewis & y/n🥰🥰🥰🥰
user11 I love how you use your platform to raise awareness
user12 omg he's so hot 🥵
user13 Wait, why is Lewis at Y/N's charity event instead of her? I usually support her, but this is just weird... why can't she stand up for her own thing?
user14 RIGHT?! idk why she didn't even bother showing there
user15 Honestly I think that Lewis going there brings more attention to it than just her going there, and it's a good thing people are noticing this organization. Though I don't understand why she didn't go there as well 🤷‍♀️
user16 guys stop wtf she could be sick or smth
user14 or she's just another attention seeker... never liked her tbh
user16 the only attention seeker here is u user14 get a life and stop hating 😘
user14 i'm not hating, i'm stating facts and unlike y/n i don't need a man to do shit for me lmfao
user17 Y'all are really getting mad over nothing xddd
user18 Amazing work! 👏 you make the difference, Lewis😍🖤💛
user19 the fact he has pink pants bc it's y/n's fav color and it's for a charity event she helped organize... i want a man like him 😩
user20 He's down bad for her!!!
user21 I mean... who wouldn't, just look at her🤭
user22 fr what i'd give to talk to y/n once
user23 Our fashion barbie iconic Queen 💖💖
user24 Lew giving the little boy a fist bump🥹
user25 he is going to be a great dad one day
user24 Oh definitely!🫶
user26 can't wait for dad lewis
user27 omggg imagine little him and y/n running around the paddock 😭😭
user26 they'll be sooo cute istg
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yourusername posted on instagram
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liked by lewishamilton, lilymhe, landonorris, isahernaez and 639,910 others
tagged: mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton and roscoelovescoco
yourusername japan grand prix w my favs 🇯🇵🤍
view all 4,249 comments
lewishamilton 🤍🤍
liked by the author
user1 awww i live for bf lewis
user2 YOU DESERVE SOMEONE BETTER
user3 and who would that be user2 ?? you? lmfao u wish🤣🤣
user4 the disrespect of writing these things under HIS COMMENT where he shows SUPPORT to HIS GIRLFRIEND...
user5 Lewis & Y/N 4ever 🫶
user6 omg look at roscoe baby so cute
user7 the teeth I can't🥹
user8 It's Roscoe's world and we're just living in it fr
alexandrasaintmleux so prettyyy 🙏🌺
liked by lewishamilton and roscoelovescoco
yourusername oh stoppp u are prettier 💓💐
user9 Girls supporting girls and wags supporting wags... that's what we like!!!!
user10 the fact lewis liked alex's comment w two accounts is the best thing that happened this week😭
user11 shut uppp I didn't even notice it before user10 😭 he's such a simp I love this 😭😭
user10 i knoooow😭
user12 finally you attended a grand prix this year!!!!
user13 😍😍😍😍😍
mercedesamgf1 It's always brighter with you in the paddock Barbie Y/N!💖
liked by the author, lewishamilton and carmenmmundt
yourusername next time i'm going all out w the pink 💖🫶
user14 the legend herselffff
user15 Admin is slaying and supporting Y/N 💁‍♀️
user16 MOTHER IS SERVING ONCE AGAIN🧎🏻‍♀️
roscoelovescoco Enjoying's dad's racing's w my's best's mum's ☺️🏎
yourusername enjoying dad racing w my best son 🥹💕
user17 not roscoe slowly learning y/n's slang and saying w instead of with🤭
user18 and the fact Lewis is the one really writing it... !!!!!
user19 They're such cute a family🥰
user20 mum and dad and son... I can't it's too adorable 🫠❤️‍🩹
user21 Literally the queen of f1 and gorgeousness keep slaying
user22 where is the usual barbie aesthetic?!😥
user23 fr I want pink dresses not blue trousers
user24 Guys she can wear whatever she wants
user23 yeah true but still... she already built that image so why not keep it wtf 🤷‍♀️
user25 Covering her fat stomach with the purse ewww 🤢🥴
user26 i wanna take u haters seriously... but I just can't xd
user27 if you have anger issues like me and don't like online trolls, pls stop scrolling people! there are so many dumb users from twitter in these comments!🙃
user28 I just don't get why they're hating on Y/N all of sudden... what did she ever do to them
user29 idk, probably bcs she wasn't active for a while (she was probably not feeling well or smth as she said in an interview few days back) and didn't attend any gp till japan this year (again she was probably sick so understandable)... plus lot of f1 "fans" are jealous bitches change my mind
user30 Internet always moves in waves and one time everybody loves u and then they hate u 😬
user31 yeah but it's so sad cause y/n is such a sweetheart🥺❤️
user32 I honestly wouldn't care about the haters if they didn't attack her body and the way she looks... that's down right embarrassing and disgusting
user33 AGREED user32
twitter & messages between Y/N and Lewis
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lewishamilton and yourusername posted on instagram
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liked by maxverstappen1, shawnmendes, t22felton, charles_leclerc and 27,925,028 others
lewishamilton It's hard to put into words how happy and excited we are. Can't wait to hold our baby in a few months and support my dearest love on every step of the way. Feeling blessed right now 🤍🪐
comments on this post have been limited
charles_leclerc Well, that's a shocking news I didn't know about this time...😂
charles_leclerc But big congratulations!❤️
yourusername yeah we needed to give u heart attack w smth too 😉💋
susie_wolff Congratulations Lewis and Y/N, you will be great parents! 💫🫶
yourusername thx susie, we have great role models in u and toto!!! ✨❤️‍🩹
lewishamilton 🫶🏾🫶🏾
kellypiquet what a great news!🥹
yourusername love u kelly 💕
sebastianvettel Many congratulations!
lewishamilton Thank you Seb!
yourusername will u be the fun uncle??? pls seb 🥹🙏
sebastianvettel If you'll make me their godfather....
yourusername done deal 🤝
lewishamilton I-... fair enough, done deal
fencer EXCUSE ME?!! THAT'S NOT FAIR
charles_leclerc Yeah what is this favorism?!
yourusername guys it's seb how could we say no 😌✨
charles_leclerc True... fair enough then I guess 🙂
fencer I still feel VERY offended
yourusername charles don't use that ironic emoji on me and fencer u can have the second child
lewishamilton Darling that sounds like you're sacrificing our second child while the first one isn't even born yet...
yourusername whoops 🫢🙈
sebastianvettel Do you realize this is not a private conversation?
yourusername actually u can set selected comments private seb 😁
charles_leclerc Wait seriously?!
lewishamilton No, she's just testing if he's old enough to believe her 🙄
yourusername you're sour bc u believed me the first time i tried it love ☺️🫶
sebastianvettel This is exactly why I didn't have Instagram sooner.
charles_lecerc We love you Seb!❤️
yourusername yeah we do love u our new godfather!!!!💖
mercedesamgf1 Congratulations from the whole team!🤩🤍
liked by the author
alexandrasaintmleux awww so happy for both of u!💞
yourusername hope you're prepared to be the fav auntie 🤭💋
alexandrasaintmleux anything for my little nephew or niece hamilton 🫡
scuderiaferrari The next world champion on the way?😍❤️
yourusername pls i hope they'll stay far away from racing 😭
scuderiaferrari Well... then we'll at least get another tifosi 😉
georgerussell68 Wishing all the best mate!
liked by the author
landonorris Wooohooo congrats!!!
landonorris Wait- do y'all realize you'll be parents now? Like real REAL parents of an actual child?!
yourusername yeah lando that's how it usually works when u get pregnant 😊
landonorris Yeah but... wait! The child needs to be McLaren fan!
yourusername your mission to get all hamiltons to be your fan is getting more complicated, isn't it? 😂🫢
landonorris Shhhh Y/N it's a secret mission 🤫
yourusername oh my bad sry
yourusername wait why do i know about it then???
landonorris Ehhh... miscalculation?
yourusername tf lando 😭
lewishamilton I'm starting to think this baby will be our second child and Lando is our first...
landonorris Wow so can I officially say Lewis Hamilton is my daddy now?😀
lewishamilton NO
yourusername lando don't you dare or istg
landonorris Byeee parents!! 🤗
f1 Let's go! 💖👶
francisca.cgomes babyyyyy 🤎🍂
pierregasly Why the leaves?
francisca.cgomes bcs it's an autumn babyyyyy
yourusername love u kika 💕
pierregasly Oh congrats by the way!🫶
yourusername thx pierre 💕
logansargeant RAAAAAHHH 🇺🇸🦅
logansargeant Sorry alex_albon took my phone 😒 I wanted to say congratulations!🤍
alex_albon 😇
yourusername lol
yourusername but thx sm logan, you're such a sweetheart! 🫶
lilymhe I swear it'll be the cutest baby ever
yourusername babe it'll totally will if u say so 💋
kevinmagnussen 🙌
hulkhulkenberg Welcome to the dad's club on the grid Lewis! 😉
liked by the author
oscarpiastri What a happy day, congratulations! 🧡
yourusername what's the orange heart doing here oscahh??? 🤨
oscarpiastri 💖
oscarpiastri Better now?
yourusername thx oscar sm for the congrats!🥰 also you should use my signature heart emoji more often 💖
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yourusername posted on instagram
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liked by haileybieber, martagarcialopez19, mercedesamgf1 and 834,981 others
tagged: lewishamilton and alexandrasaintmleux
yourusername enjoying the barbie life 💖💐
view all 2,013 comments
lewishamilton Beautiful, gorgeous and my Barbie!
yourusername awww my ken 💞🫶
user1 omg i love them sm
user2 I wanna have what they have
user3 the effect bf Lewis has on me should be studied 😩
user4 Just the fact he usually isn't active on ig and doesn't comment or anything... and she is the only exception😭🤭
user5 gorgeous literally so gorgeous
user6 The baby bump 🥹🥹
user7 and she looks so good with it too 🥹🥹
alexandrasaintmleux such good times hanging out with my fav barbie! 💋💖
yourusername the best times girly!!! 💕
user8 i live for this friendship
user9 Imagine these two next year in Ferrari garage together!😍
user10 literally the only good thing coming out of lewis leaving mercedes
user11 fr fr user10
user12 Are those flowers from Lewis???
roscoelovescoco Yeah's they'res from's dad's 🌻☺️
user13 OH MY GOD ROSCOE HIIII
user12 Can't believe Lewis Hamilton replied to my comment as his dog 😭
user13 lol user12 u really won life xd
user14 this is sooo cuteee 😻
user15 You and Alex look so good together! Hope you'll be friends forever!
kellypiquet where's the bag from? it's so pretty! 😍🤍
yourusername idk lew gave it to me for christmas last year... i'll ask and let u know!! 🤍🫶
kellypiquet 🫶
user16 The queens of the paddock right here 🙌
user17 still can't believe y/n & lewis are going to be parent in a few months
user18 RIGHT?! It's like a fever dream for me 😭
user19 Yeah i was excited for dad Lewis so long that now I can't believe it's finally happening 🤭❤️
user20 the best wag right here
user21 and soon the best mum!
user22 Ur STUNNING 😭💖
user23 Woman 💅
user24 proud to say i never hated on Y/N
user25 YES
user26 always knew she's the queen 👸💗
lewishamilton posted on instagram
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liked by naomischiff, gigihadid, susie_wolff, riabish and 2,452,906 others
tagged: yourusername
lewishamilton My beautiful Barbie. The love of my life. My partner for good times and bad times. Mother of my child. The only woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. Y/N Y/L/N. 💖💫
view all 31,274 comments
yourusername can't describe in words how much i love u lew!!! 💖💫
lewishamilton Love you too darling, so much!
user1 I can't 😭
user2 i wanna have what they have
user3 THE BEST COUPLE EVER
user4 if they ever break up love isn't real
user5 I'll tell my children they are the original Barbie & Ken
user6 my parents 🥰
user7 y'all don't understand how much i love them
user8 The best parents ever!!!!
roscoelovescoco Mums looking's gorgeous 🥹☀️
lewishamilton She in fact is.
yourusername my boys making me cry 🥹💓
roscoelovescoco Oh's no's mums don't cry's 🙁
yourusername don't worry baby it's happy tears 💞
user9 now I'm crying too... this is so sweet
user10 The reason they're my favs😍
user11 why is this so precious 😭😭
user12 so prettyyyy
kellypiquet Our Barbie looking like a goddess!💅🏻💝
liked by the author
yourusername thx kelly!!!💕
user13 she's fr glowing 😻
user14 Thought she can't get more beautiful than she was before but pregnancy proved me wrong
user15 MARRY HER
user16 we love bf lewis dedicating whole post to y/n 🤭🤭
voguemagazine 🤩📸
user17 ariana what are u doing here?!??!!
user18 Even Vogue is an Y/N fan and we love it
user19 y'all don't understand how bad i need her to be on the cover of vogue or some other magazine 😩
user20 OMG user19 SHE WOULD SLAY IT TOO HARD
user21 You should marry her now!!! 💍💍
liked by roscoelovescoco
user22 heyyy did someone else see lewis like it and then un-like it?!😧
user21 When the notification of roscoelovescoco liking my comment came up on my phone I nearly dropped it and screamed... like what? Excuse me sir!!! 😃
user23 LOL I love how he goes savage liking comments w his dog's account and then regrets it immediately xd
user24 guuuyyyssss what if it means we'll get proposal soon???☺️
user21 I wish!!!!
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THE END
Author's Note: Thank you for reading it to the end! I'll be very grateful for likes, comments, reblogs and every other sign of support. Also you can let me know if you think baby Hamilton will be a girl or boy 🤭. Have a great weekend! (Btw if someone wants to talk about their predictions for Saudi Arabian Grand Prix, they're welcomed bcs I don't have anyone to talk to about it XD)
Taglist: @namgification @hc-dutch @bloodyymaryyy @nat-lh-44 @cosmoscoffeee @daniellef89x @xoscar03 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @nathalielovesonedirection @raizelchrysanderoctavius @leclerc16s @carpediem241108 @onecojg (let me know if you want to be added or removed)
582 notes · View notes
sabertoothwalrus · 2 years
Text
hey I have some advice for people that wish they could do more to support artists but maybe can’t do as much financially!!!
leave really positive comments on things you like, and make them as specific as possible.
Literally, nothing makes my day more than a comment that’s really taken the time to analyze my art and describe WHAT about it they liked. this is really helpful for artists for a couple reasons:
many artists have adhd, anxiety, or some other flavor of Brain Stuff, and either respond VERY VERY STRONGLY to praise or (unfortunately) maybe just have a hard time believing their art deserves praise (IT DOES!!)
when comments are specific, that’s sooooooo much more helpful to grow! It’s a lot easier to figure out what you’re doing successfully when people tell you what their favorite part of your art is. But it can also help when you notice your joke doesn’t seem to be landing or if people are reacting a lot differently than you were expecting, and then you can better gauge how to course correct for next time. What stood out to you? Was it visual, aka lines, color, stylization, or composition? Or was it more emotional, aka dialogue, expressions, or poses? How did you feel looking at it?
it feels nice HDHSHJFJD but it does! Plus it works out your art analysis brain a little bit, and you’ll get more precise the more you do it. I love being a little cheerleader in the tags of my friends’ art. Gas em up and give em kisses on the cheek.
Don’t get me wrong, I love all comments. I love people who I can tell make an effort to comment something, even if it’s just a keysmash or incoherent wailing or a simple “I really like this op!” I also LOVE comments that are funny “op you are feeding me like a baby bird” (I have a little folder for screenshots of my favorites heehee).
But, again, it is really appreciated when people give specific, analytic comments. those are comments that turn me into a weeping little puddle. And this is not a “if you never ever comment you’re evil” post, it’s just saying if you do, we notice and thank you for it!
6K notes · View notes
ghost-proofbaby · 9 months
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twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)
→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn
→ warnings: strong language, smut (oral, f receiving), overload of cheesiness, upside down does not exist, minors dni
→ wc: 11.8k+
→ a/n: this might be the cheesiest, fluffiest thing i've ever written, and i can't even be bothered to care. it might be unrealistic. it might be too much. i do not care. this has been a long time coming and i think we all deserve all the cheese after this story.
i don't even know what to say besides thank you. thank you to everyone who followed along from the beginning, to those of you joined the journey along the way, to those of you who are reading as we finish it up. thank you for all the support and love you guys have shown this fic. i will always, always, appreciate it more than i know how to say. i love these idiots, and i love you all.
if you would like to see this story continued through small blurbs, my ask box is officially open to requests from this universe. i will also probably be posting some "beyond the hours" content over the next few weeks.
thank you. i love you.
without further ado...
masterlist.
spotify playlist.
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EPILOGUE: A BET
TWO MONTHS LATER
“Why are there so many fuckin’ options?” 
Eddie stares at the line up of smartphones before him, all different models and different physical sizes, different colors and different memory amounts. 
“There’s not that many,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around him from behind as you rest your chin on his shoulder. It’s a bit of a stretch, making you lean up onto your tippy toes, “Besides, isn’t having options a good thing?” 
He scoffs as he brings a hand up subconsciously to where your arms overlap on his torso, grip gentle as he runs a thumb over your skin and gives a squeeze, “Sure, options are great. But there’s at least twenty different iPhones on display here, sweetheart.” 
The last few months had been interesting, to say the least. A new and exciting journey initially, but also a fairly stressful ordeal given all the hoops you two had been jumping through. You’re both busy people, having to suddenly figure out how to carve out a specific space for each other amongst bustling lives. It wasn’t the same as making time for friends or a weekly night out; it was figuring out times for dates, times for lazy afternoons, times for just you and just Eddie.
And, occasionally, time to take Eddie shopping for a new phone. Finally.
“Well, better pick one fast,” your fingers dig into his side playful, and he blows out an annoyed breath as he side-eyes you. You only retaliate in a fast peck to his cheek before whispering in his ear, “We’re gonna be late if you keep taking all day.” 
It was Argyle’s birthday party tonight. His actual birthday wasn’t for another week, but he’d be venturing back home to California for that. And so the group elected to throw him a preemptive party at one of the group’s favorite bars. 
Which — fine. Awesome. You were excited, you really were: you loved Argyle, you loved your friends, you even found yourself warming back up to parties.
But your friends didn’t know. 
Two whole months, and neither you nor Eddie had told a single soul of what had become between you two. Not even Steve. Not even Nancy. 
At first the excuse was to give this time to grow, to find your footing before you brought your lovable yet rambunctious group of friends into the equation. But then you two had found your footing, and you’d worried what they would say. Eddie had nearly made himself sick with anxiety over Nancy finding out he’d kept this relationship from her. They’d support you two — that wasn’t a worry. They’d proven that since the first time the entire group had hung out after the bet.
“So,” Robin started, narrowing her eyes at you and Eddie sitting on opposite ends of her and Steve’s couch. Neither of you had said a word to each other yet (Plenty had already been said that morning as you’d snuck him out of your dorm), “You two really aren’t together?” 
“Why is everyone so adamant that the bet has to end with us getting together?” you jeered.
Eddie didn’t help the cause when he was quick to take your side, “Exactly! The bet’s over. We lasted twenty four hours. We’re friends now — isn’t that what you guys wanted?” 
“I actually wanted to help you dudes plan a winter wedding,” Argyle chimed from the kitchen where he was retrieving a coke, “So I’m gonna side with Birdie on this one.” 
“Of course you are,” you muttered beneath your breath. 
Everything in you ached to be sitting next to Eddie rather than so far. You ached for his arm around you, his lips pressed to your temple. Just to share body heat, even — innocent thighs brushing with layers of denim between would have been enough.  
“It’ll happen eventually,” Nancy mused from her seat on the kitchen counter, Jonathan beside her and matching her confident energy with a sly grin, “Just give them time.” 
What they hadn’t realized is that it already did happen. The moment Eddie showed up to your dorm and the two of you said to Hell with space, it was inevitable. 
Now, it was just the challenge of letting your friends in on the secret.
“What about the red one?” Eddie asks you as you finally unravel from him.
“Of course you’re choosing the red one.” 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he scowls, no malice behind it as you step up to occupy the space next to him, brushing shoulders for only a moment before his hand is grabbing yours, intertwining fingers like second nature. 
You recall that moment on his balcony, where he had once been so nervous and hesitant to hold your hand. 
“Nothing,” you shake your head, smiling to yourself as you look at the specific model he was talking about, “You’re just getting a little bit predictable, Munson.” 
He opens his mouth to argue, to nip back at what you always offer him, when one of the salesmen approach you two.
“Hi folks! Can I help you with anything today?”
Eddie squeezes your hand, no doubt in an effort to withhold his laughter at the man’s overly chirpy tone. You squeeze back, if for nothing more than to let him know you felt him.
Despite Eddie’s previous claim to a decision, he still chooses to entertain the man. Asking questions about different models, inquiring for recommendations as if they’d change his mind. They go back and forth, both polite enough, but the conversation easily bores you. In five seconds flat, your mind has officially wandered off.
You two hadn’t really discussed the specific details of the night to come. Whether you’d ride with Eddie there, how you’d navigate Eddie’s natural born clinginess once he got a few drinks in him, if tonight might be the night to finally tell your friends. 
The last one felt a bit obvious. It was Argyle’s night — you didn’t want to snatch the attention from him for even a second. 
But there were layers to your anxiety. Because it was more than just how to navigate how you two would display yourselves to your friends on nights out. 
It had been two months, and you still hadn’t said those three little words back to Eddie.
He didn’t pressure you. He never once brought it back up, never once pressured you. But just because he wasn’t constantly reminding you vocally that he loved you didn’t mean you didn’t feel it. You’d felt it, impossible to miss, when all those lazy morning fantasies became reality. You felt it during movie marathons and you felt it every time he’d worship your body. It was there — in the late nights, in the early mornings, in the dull afternoons. A wild thing unleashed in your gardens, all those vines you’d worked so hard to see flourish threatened to be torn up by impatient claws at the feeling growing rapidly in your chest every time you looked at him.
And slowly, surely, you knew that there was only so much longer that like could suffice in describing your feelings for Eddie. 
You were falling, whether he was aware or not. You just needed to figure out the right moment for those three little words to unstick, to go from hot honey on your tongue to easy breaths between you two. He’s given you time, he’d filled the months you’d awarded him with making up for every previously bitter exchange, and yet you still couldn’t give him this. And you’re starting to believe maybe that’s why you couldn’t imagine telling your friends yet. 
You sort of hated yourself for it.
You’re pulled back to reality once the salesman departs, no doubt into the back to grab Eddie’s choice of phone. You don’t even have to ask; you know he got the red one.
“Hey,” Eddie fully turns to you, bringing your knuckles to his lips in chaste kisses. Your stomach still kicks with flutters, your heart still warms at the gesture. Eddie’s affection has yet to lose novelty, “Where’d you go?”
“What do you mean?” you twist your face, “I was here the entire tim-“
“Not where’d you physically go,” he clarifies, letting your conjoined hands drop back to the sliver of space between your bodies, “Mentally. Where’d your mind just go?”
 You hadn’t thought he’d notice your drifting.
“Nowhere,” you shrug off.
“Nowhere? So you’re really just that interested in the newest iPhone model?” 
He pointedly looks up at the widescreen display you don’t doubt you’d been blankly staring at the entirety of his conversation with the man who had yet to return.
“Oh, absolutely. You know me so well.” 
All bark, no bite. These days, all the previous venom that had infected exchanges with Eddie prior to the bet had finally been sucked clean from the wound, long gone to make room for all the genuine affection to seep into its place. You still argued — or perhaps bantered was a better word for it — but you didn’t fight. You both still grated on one another’s nerves and managed to slither beneath the other’s skin, but not in an unwelcome way. 
It was a nice change.
It made you hate yourself even more for not saying those three little words. 
Eddie seemingly reads your mind, “Are you nervous for tonight?”
“I-“ you consider lying to him and saying it hadn’t even crossed your mind, but the look he gives you warns against it, “We just haven’t… discussed it.” 
“What’s there to discuss?” 
You hold up your interlocked hands for emphasis, raising your eyebrows at Eddie.
His mouth falls open softly, eyes widening, “Oh. Are you- Are you wanting to tell them tonight?” 
No, your gut screams, absolutely not tonight.
“Is Argyle’s birthday party really the best time to explode their minds?” 
You try to keep your tone teasing as you sense Eddie’s own nerves creeping up. Sometimes it was fun, standing in a room with everyone and pretending to be more akin to strangers than lovers. But sometimes, it was just plain painful. Sometimes, the entire group would be laughing at something, and you craved nothing more than to be pressed into Eddie’s side and feel the vibrations of his shared joy rather than just having to listen to it from across the room. 
It’s not that you wanted to tell your friends and cause a scene — you just didn’t want to have to hide anymore. And maybe you wouldn’t have to, if you’d just tell him how you felt.
“Probably not,” Eddie murmurs, “I mean, it’s his night. We can always tell them the next time we all get together.”
The issue is that’s what the two of you always say. You always brush it off for the next time. 
You can only sigh in defeat as you see the salesman finally bounding back out from the back room, a small box holding Eddie’s purchase in his grip, “Yeah. Next time.” 
You can’t even be mad at next time. It’s the same thing you tell yourself every time you felt those words on the tip of your tongue, so close yet so far from revealing the most terrifying truth you’d discovered yet to Eddie.
You let go of his hand long enough for him to check out, hardly overhearing when he questions how they can transfer all the data from his current flip phone. When he seems particularly worried about pictures transferring, you don’t think anything of it.
STEVE-O: do i need to pick you up tonight? 
You don’t see the text. You’re a bit busy with something when it comes through.
Something is currently still between your legs, curls threaded between your fingers as your back arches off his mattress and his name starts to come out as a desperate whimper rather than a chant. 
STEVE-O: ???
The initial buzz of your phone on his nightstand doesn’t phase either of you. Eddie’s tongue still works you eagerly, circling your clit as you tug particularly harshly at his roots. Each flick sends white hot pleasure through your bones, nearly making you see stars.
“Fuck,” you gasp out when he brings his fingers into the mix. You can feel his smile against you as he curls his fingers inside of you, mimicking a come hither motion and relishing in your little pants as your thighs tighten around his shoulders, “Oh, fuck. Right there, Eddie. I- Eddie.” 
The way you’re moaning his name only encourages him as he slips in a second finger, stretching you further. You feel cool metal bumping your entrance, sending shocks up your spine as his lips suction against you and he sucks hard.
He hadn’t even taken the time to remove his rings when the two of you had gotten home. He had been too eager, dragging you to his bedroom with his lips attached to your neck from the moment he’d shut the front door behind the two of you until he’d thrown you down on his bed.
“That’s right, baby,” his voice vibrates against your clit, “Say my name. Tell everyone who’s making you feel this goo-“
STEVE-O: helllooooo????
“Okay, who the fuck keeps texting you?” Eddie finally pulls back when he realizes you’re slipping out of that bubble he’d created, your head having turned towards the nightstand in curiosity, “Let me guess, it’s your other boyfriend?” 
Your head is still spinning and your chest continues to heave from that lingering pleasure he’d been offering so generously to you. He sounds annoyed, but you can guarantee you’re even more irked. 
“I don’t have another boyfriend,” you blandly reply, not taking his bait.
It only makes him wrap his hands around your thighs on his shoulder, giving a playful squeeze as you reach out for your phone. 
“You sure?” 
You squint at the notifications, but don’t properly read them, only rolling your eyes at both the fact that Steve’s the one interrupting this precious moment and at Eddie’s valiant teasing.
You slam the phone back down, eyes trailing down to his, “I am, but I can certainly find another boyfriend if you don’t get your mouth back on me in the next three seconds-“ 
He doesn’t need a second warning. In an instant, the warmth of his tongue is back on you, lapping at all the spots he’s come to memorize as of recently. That pleasure comes back into reach, edging your vision with feathery black as your eyes flutter shut and the coil in your stomach tightens.
You throw your head back into one of his pillows, one that has started to smell like your shampoo now rather than his, and let a drawn out whine escape your lips.
“You were saying?” he teases, grinning wickedly. He takes that brief moment to come up for air, turning and sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of your thigh beside his cheek. Not hard enough to draw blood, and probably not hard enough to leave indents. But it is enough to have you preening once more as your heels dig into his bare back and you try to lift your hips, desperate for his mouth again.
He was edging you. Without even meaning to, he was repeatedly bringing you to the edge only to leave you teetering. 
With your focus back on him, you can admire how pretty he looks. Mouth slick with you, pupils blown out, hair an absolute mess. You like him best this way, you think, when he looks so absolutely devoted to you. When he’s looking at you with a hunger you almost can’t place. It makes you want to scream from the rooftops about how you’ve fallen for him. How you feel so much more than like for your boy. 
STEVE-O: seriously. if you don’t respond, you can just walk. you have five minutes.
At the buzz of the phone, your hands leave Eddie’s hair to form fists, pounding them into the mattress at your side in a brief tantrum. He ceases all actions, pulling his lips away from you again, and it only makes you pout more. 
“Baby,” he coos, fingers trailing up the sides of your thighs before he reaches out to hold your fists down, “Maybe you should answer him. Tell him to fuck off-“
Eddie’s interrupted as your phone fully bursts to life with your ringtone.
You were going to kill Steve Harrington. 
“On second thought, let me answer it,” Eddie groans as you reach out and grab it once more, “Give the fucker a piece of my mind.”
“Shut up,” you hiss as you realize it’s Robin calling. You turn the screen so he can see, and his eyebrows lift in surprise.
He makes no move to remove himself from between your legs, though. He stays face to face with your aching core.
“Hello?” you snap after swiping to answer.
“Finally! My God, Steve’s been texting you-“
“I didn’t see the texts.”
“Do you need a ride?”
“Nope.” 
You’ve never been so short with your friends. 
But that pleasure is slipping from you, the flames of your impending orgasm dying down to nothing more than embers. It’s enough to piss anyone off. 
“Are you sure?” Robin asks, sounding genuinely concerned, “It’s kind of a far walk-“
“I’m running late,” you sigh, realizing that you were going to have to come up with a lie to get off the hook. Another thing you hated about the hiding — it led to your friendships being littered with dishonesty. Always a new excuse as to why you weren’t available, always feigning reasons as to why you didn’t reply to texts as timely as you used to. “With getting ready. I could- I don’t know, do you think Eddie might pick me up? Isn’t my dorm along the way to the bar from his place?” 
At the mention of his name, he perks up. His cheek settles against the exact spot he had bit just moments before, nearly nuzzling into you as your free hand comes down to gently push back his bangs. On instinct, you find yourself soothingly pressing your fingertips in slow circles against his scalp. You’re nearly melting beneath his soft gaze, those big and wide eyes locked on you with bated breath.
“You want Eddie to pick you up?” you suddenly hear Steve exclaim in the background.
Your face scrunches up, a wrinkle forming across the bridge of your nose and between your brows. It’s so damn cute to Eddie that he can’t help but press a quick kiss to the skin he continues to lay into, beginning to smile as your absent-minded head massage continues. 
So much more than like.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was on speaker.” 
“Why do you want Munson to pick you up?” Steve ignores your sarcasm, voice sounding closer to the phone now, “He drives a motorcycle, you know. That’s dangerous.” 
Eddie must be able to catch some of Steve’s shrill exclamation, his eyebrows raising ever so slightly. You feel his curious hum against your skin and you don’t hesitate putting your own pesky friends on speaker. 
“Motorcycles are not that dangerous,” you retort, and it makes Eddie have to hide a slight scoff into your thigh in an effort to stay silent. It was ironic that they cared about how safe it would be for you to ride with Eddie on his bike now, after that allegedly dangerous vehicle had been your main source of transportation for nearly two months now, “He has a helmet, right?” 
“Isn’t your dorm the opposite direction of the bar from his place?” Robin questions, “I mean, I’m all for you asking lover boy if he’ll give you a ride but-”
Steve interrupts her flatly, “It’s making him go out of his way. Besides, he might have already left for the bar by now.” 
You don’t know what to silently laugh at first. The assumption they were making that couldn’t be further from the truth, or Robin’s new nickname for Eddie. 
Lover boy is fitting for him in this current position. He’s still latching onto your leg, cuddling you in every way he could from where he laid, staring at you and hanging onto your every last word. The poster boy for pathetically in love, he gives your leg another kiss, starting a fiery trail with his lips until he reaches your knee. It pangs in your chest, wondering if he can see your feelings also painted so obviously across your face. 
“Steve,” you murmur, breath catching in your throat as Eddie’s lips linger in the ditch of your knee. It takes a second to remember you’re on the phone, “No offense, but Eddie hasn’t been on time to a single get together the entire time I’ve known him.” 
Eddie reacts in real time to your insult, forcing an over-exaggerated offended look before he bites you again. This time, his teeth do leave an imprint from his nip, and it makes you slap a hand over your mouth to avoid yelping. 
Don’t bite me, you mouth at him. 
Don’t be mean, he answers right back, silent as ever. 
“Technically we’re all already late,” Steve points out. It makes you sit up quickly, startling Eddie in the process. You squint at the clock across the room and- fuck. Steve was right, “Nancy just texted me that she and Jon are there, Argyle’s on his way. She said she tried texting Eddie but didn’t get any response,” there’s a long pause as you motion wildly for Eddie to get up with you, the boy watching as you fling yourself off his mattress and carry the phone with you to his dresser, “Have… you heard from him recently?” 
“Why are you saying it like that?” you jab, throwing open one of the drawers Eddie had cleared out for you to keep some clothes here in his apartment. At this point, a good chunk of the tuition you paid was going to waste considering the fact you rarely spent the night at your dorm. You were already half moved into Eddie’s space. 
You try not to think too hard about it, because just last week, you’d had a panic attack at the revelation. 
You were afraid of smothering him, even if he was the one always insisting you could leave more of your things here. He was always the one conning you into spending another night, promising soft murmurs of giving you a ride to class the next morning if you did. You rarely ever had much of the choice in the matter; once he’d wrap his arms around your waist, curl his body flush against yours, it was always game over.
Practically living together, and you still hadn’t said those words back to him. 
“I’m not saying it like anything!” Steve defends himself, “I’m just asking an innocent question!” Eddie’s snort this time is audible, and you freeze as Steve clearly mistakes it for your laughter, “Shut up. It’s a reasonable question. You guys are friends now, remember?” 
Friends. Of course, because all your friends jumped at the chance to bury their mouths against your cunt and make you cum repeatedly until you had tears streaming down your cheeks. Because you let all your friends sleep in the same bed as you, and wake you up by burying deep within you as they bite your shoulder with a moan. You and Eddie were friends. 
“Trust me,” you glance over your shoulder in your haste, looking at Eddie as he stretches out on his side and props himself up on his elbow, “I remember.” 
He gives you a knowing smile, squinting his eyes at you in entertainment. 
“Babe, it really would just be easier for you to ride with us,” Robin’s voice sounds again as you tug a shirt out of the drawer, something casual and comfortable that you could style for the night, “Unless you’re just hellbent on having alone time with Eddie for some reason-”
“I’m not hellbent on being alone with him, Robs.” 
Another lie. I definitely am. But not in the context you think. 
“You just sound like you are.”
“Well, I’m not,” you yank a pair of black jeans free from the drawer and slam it shut, standing and turning to Eddie. 
He hardly has time to react before you’re tossing your phone down on the mattress in front of him, the small device bouncing and hitting his chest. He winces and throws himself back dramatically, letting out a small oof that you pray neither Robin or Steve pick up on. 
As you dress, throwing on the random t-shirt and shimmying on your jeans, Robins laughs, “Denial isn’t a good look on you.” 
Eddie watches you, never moving to get ready himself. All he does is stare as you button up the pants. 
When you give him an expectant look, he merely mouths, bra? 
You shake your head. You don’t know where Eddie had flung your undergarment, and you’re not in the mood to frantically search for it. You’ve gone without a bra before – you can survive one night out without one. 
Eddie’s entire face and chest immediately flushes pink. Cute.  
“Now you guys are just being assholes,” you scowl despite the fact that only Eddie can see it, waving your hands to motion for him to get up and also get dressed, “I’m texting Eddie. If he has already left, I’ll just walk. Fuck you guys.” 
“Tell lover boy I said hi,” Robin teases. 
“Even if he’s already parked at the fucking bar at this point, we both know he’d jump right back on his bike and come pick you up,” Steve’s voice grumbles over the line. 
It almost makes you smile.  “Someone sounds jealous.” 
“Not jealous, just annoyed,” Steve corrects as Eddie finally stands from the bed, “When are you two going to get your shit together?”
“What do you mean?” you play dumb.
You’ve had this conversation with your friends multiple times. They were truly going to have your head once they realized what you’d been keeping from them for months now. 
“Don’t you have a 4.0 GPA?” Robin inserts herself back into the conversation, “You can’t possibly be this stupid.” 
Eddie pauses in his fumbling with pulling his jeans from the pile he’d left his clothes in at the end of the beg, face scrunching in silent laughter. You almost walk over and smack his bare back angled towards you. 
“First of all, no. I don’t have a 4.0 GPA. Thanks for the reminder,” you grab your phone back off of the bed and decide to leave Eddie behind in the room, heading into the bathroom to finish getting ready. You hate to admit it, but if you have to keep watching him giggle so cutely to himself, you’ll also probably break. And you aren’t in the mood for any further interrogation from Robin and Steve, “Second of all, I’m hanging up now. I’m going to call Eddie. At least he won’t be such a dick to me.” 
“Oh, you must see the irony there-” 
You cut Steve off, “Bye! See you in… like, ten minutes.” 
Once you’ve hung up, you put your phone down on the bathroom counter and look up into the mirror. Your hair is a mess, wild and tangled from all the writhing you had been doing before being so rudely interrupted. You give it your best effort, trying to tame it a little bit to look more presentable, but it’s a lost cause at this point. Fuck it. 
Eddie appears in the doorway behind you, fully dressed and his hair pulled back into a bun, leaning into the door frame with his arms crossed and an impish grin on display, “Oh, you’re going to call me now, sweetheart?” 
You glare at him in a jocosely manner through the reflection, “Don’t look so proud of yourself.” 
He pushes off the frame and comes up behind you, still locking his eyes only through the reflection as he leans his chin over your shoulder, “And what if I don’t want to give you a ride? You have been awfully mean – insulting my punctuality, throwing your phone at me, teasing me by going without a bra. The list goes on and on.” 
Something deep within you stirs, those embers that still ache to burst into a forest fire. You hate that you could easily spend the entire night here with him, letting him take you every which way between his sheets. And even without sinful actions involved, you would be plenty content with just his presence tonight. As a matter of fact, you might be more content with that outcome rather than heading out to see your friends.
Sorry Argyle, you think guiltily. 
“I’m teasing you?” you question just as his hands land on your hips, moving so that he was pressed firmly against the curve of your ass. Making sure you could feel how hard he was against the seam of his jeans’ zipper, “You didn’t even make me cum.” 
“Seems like we’ll both be spending the night frustrated, then,” he smiles, almost gleefully, almost devilishly, “Besides, that was technically Harrington’s fault, not mine. We both know I usually have no problems making you cum on my tongue – without interruptions, of course.”
He rolls his hips ever so slightly into you, and your mouth falls open, eyes going glossy as you continue to stare him down through the mirror.  The stirring in your abdomen is persistent now as your heart hammers against your ribs, mind melting and completely forgetting the obligation at hand. 
And Eddie knows this. He’s well aware of the effect he’s having on you, and it’s deliberate. 
Suddenly, his body completely pulls away from yours, “I’ll meet you downstairs. Don’t want to keep them waiting any longer, do we, sweetheart?” 
Damn him. Damn him, and damn his dimples, and damn how good his legs look in those jeans as he’s walking away from me right now.
You linger in the apartment, alone, for a few extra minutes to compose yourself. Trying to quelch the heat between your hips that had slowly spread across your entire body, threatening to consume you. You even go as far as to splash cool water across your cheeks, giving yourself a few smacks for good measure as you try to prepare yourself to go into public and put on the usual act. And beneath it all, you also hush the animal in your chest, the one that claws at you to tell him. The one that wails everytime you simply tell him you like him, the one that roars when you let another moment slip you by. It has to quiet, just as your flames need to settle, all for the sake of the act.
You deserve a goddamn Oscar at this point. 
After deciding that touching up your makeup would take up far too many precious seconds, you’re darting out of Eddie’s apartment, locking up behind yourself before you head down to where he’s waiting. He’s already straddling his parked bike, the engine roaring to life like the animal inside you as you exit the main doors of the building and his hands extend his only helmet. You don’t fight him on who’s going to wear it – that’s a battle, you’ve learned, you will always lose. 
We really need to just buy a second helmet. 
The thought makes you smile as you hold the clunky thing. Buying a second helmet. Something Eddie had never done before, because he had never had a regular passenger before. He had never had someone glued to his side as you had become, not even Nancy. It sounds terribly domestic; perusing aisles with him, debating which helmet fits your style best. He’d probably make a joke about your head being big. He’d probably tease you for looking at the ridiculously expensive ones and tell you to opt for a cheaper one. You’d probably end up with a pricier one in the cart regardless, and Eddie would probably refuse to let you pay for it. 
Domesticity. The image of it doesn’t ache like it had that night all those months ago. This isn’t something you yearn for hopelessly, smoke and mirrors that dissipate when you dare to reach out for it. It’s something finally in your grasp. Something tangible and something bound to happen, all you’d have to do is say the word and Eddie would comply eagerly. 
Anything to keep my girl safe, as he would tell you any time you pointed out how dangerous it was for him to go without a helmet. He’d gotten creative in saying his own version of those three little words. 
“M’lady,” he hums, nodding for you to put the helmet on before sweeping a hand over the empty space in the seat behind him, “Your chariot awaits.” 
You don’t have a snarky quip to throw back at him, only grinning at the ground as you flip the helmet around a few times to prepare to put it on. All those embers aren’t just desire for him – there’s a warmth there that always exists. A candle on the windowsill of the home you had finally found. 
You raise the clunky thing and tilt your head when Eddie suddenly says, “Oh, and babe?” 
Immediately, you lower it, eyes wide in curiosity, “What?” 
“That’s my shirt.” 
“What?” 
He motions to the t-shirt tucked carefully into your jeans, “That fine shirt you are currently wearing is mine.” 
You look down, and he’s right. It’s too late to go back inside to change, and you know he’s aware of this when you catch his amused smirk. He probably noticed the moment you had put it on, and had deliberately waited until it was too late for you to do anything about it to inform you. 
Bastard. 
“I-” you pinch the fabric between your fingers, looking between it and Eddie wildly for a second before your shoulders slumped in defeat, “It’s fine. I doubt they’ll even notice.” 
You were wrong. They do notice. 
Everyone is already waiting inside for the two of you, nestled around a table in the bar in a similar arrangement to the very first night you’d been introduced to the group. There’s only two empty seats left conveniently, right next to each other. You don’t miss that mischievous look of success on Robin’s face as she looks overly proud of herself.
They’d set it up so we’d sit next to each other. 
You’re grateful for your friends’ antics until you go to take the empty seat next to Steve.
“Is that Eddie’s shirt?” 
Robin is leaning around Steve eagerly as she says it, ridiculing the shirt intensely. 
“What?” you laugh nervously, looking down and tugging at the fabric. 
Lie. Make up a lie. Make it good. 
“That is Eddie’s shirt,” Nancy looks surprised across the table, looking up at the two of you questioningly. 
“What?” you repeat yourself. Eddie has already taken his seat, and is avoiding the stares of everyone, “No, it’s not.” 
“He has one just like it,” Jonathan adds fuel to the fire, “He literally wore it - what? Two days ago?” 
In a pathetic attempt of an excuse, you plop down in your seat and force an offended look, “People can own the same shirt. He’s not the gatekeeper of-” you look down, and nearly erupt in embarrassment when you see what the shirt is. “Deftones.” 
Ah, fuck. 
It’s not just the embarrassment of being on the verge of getting caught in your lie – it’s the memories that flood back. You, on Eddie’s lap. Your mouth and his becoming one. Steve calling, and you sucking so innocently on Eddie’s neck. 
Fuck. 
You really wish Steve and Robin hadn’t interrupted earlier. 
“It’s not like I got it at a show,” Eddie shrugs, and you wonder for a moment if he’s lying, “They’ve gotten more popular lately. I’ve seen their shit in Target.” 
“Exactly!” you exclaim a little too loudly, a little too quick to defend yourself, “Exactly. I just thought it looked cool at Target. Besides, tonight is about Argyle.”
You smile at the birthday boy, and he returns the joy as he waves a little at you. The reminder is all it takes for everyone’s attention to return to the focus of the night – everyone’s attention but Nancy’s. 
You can feel her eyes on you as conversation sparks up and debates of ordering shots begin. Everyone is busy asking Argyle what his plans for next weekend are – which are mostly composed of normal family gatherings, probably a homemade cake, etc. – but Nancy is watching you and Eddie like a hawk. In the peripheral of your eye, you watch the way she leans back so casually into Jonathan's around her shoulder, looking like she knows. You’re probably just being paranoid. You’re definitely just being paranoid. 
You try to ignore it, and instead let yourself just enjoy the moment. All your friends gathered, a group in which you finally feel like you belong to, jokes being made and laughter being exchanged that has you feeling a bit giddy. It’s nice. Even between the smoke of the room and the flickering lights overhead, murmuring chatter of nearby patrons mingling right in with your group’s noise, it’s homely. The smell of drunken cigars and fruity cocktails should be overwhelming, but you just let it wrap you up instead. 
And when you turn your head, inhaling deeply the smell of cinnamon and musk rather than all those other foreign anomalies, you find Eddie already looking at you. Soft eyes, bitten grin, a few loose curls framing his cheeks as his bangs curl up into his forehead. Even in the shoddy lighting, he takes your breath away. 
He’s looking at you. Just like that first night. Dozens of other people in this room at this moment, and he only has eyes for one – he only has eyes for you.
“So!” Argyle announces, “I think, my dudes, instead of doing what Birdie had so… excitedly suggested,” and oh, he was being generous and calling Robin suggesting he took twenty three shots for his twenty third birthday just her being excited rather than foolish, “We should just take the twenty three shots and split them up amongst the group.” 
Steve and Jonathan immediately groan, protesting how they’re driving, and Eddie only shakes his head with a chuckle. So far, he’d only ordered and been nursing on a plain coke, no whiskey. 
Somehow, sitting beside him with the group is worse than keeping distance. 
When he’d taken off his jacket, you’d silently begged for him to rest an arm across the back of your chair just as Jonathan was doing to Nancy. And he had, almost too naturally before he’d caught himself. It would have been easier to play off cooly, probably would have gone unnoticed, but your boy had practically jumped out of his bones as he’d flinched and tucked his arm back into himself suddenly. He’d even bumped his elbow against his own seat in his haste.
And Nancy had noticed. 
“That’s only three shots per person!” Argyle defends, “Four for me, since you know – birthday boy.” 
While Eddie may be avoiding alcohol tonight, you aren’t. Not unusual, but it had been odd when Eddie had told the waitress your order of an amaretto sour rather than you telling her yourself. 
Another strike. Another thing Nancy had noticed with her watchful eye.
“I’m down,” you shrug, “Hell, I’ll even take an extra shot if those two dumbasses won’t.” 
“Is that a good idea?” 
You wish Eddie had been drinking to excuse his idiocracy. Because all it takes is him saying that, not with malice but with concern, and the look on Nancy’s face told you she was officially catching on.
He hadn’t said it with the concern of a friend prepared to warn against drinking yourself sick. He’d said it with the concern of someone who would be taking care of you by the end of the night, of someone who would be dealing with the aftermath of that many shots. 
You two were bombing this whole secrecy, to put it lightly. 
You try to save the moment but laughing it off, turning to him slightly and teasing, “What, are you my keeper now?” 
Despite your best efforts, the statement doesn’t come across as friendly banter. It’s not quite fighting either. It’s a dare, you dangling something in Eddie’s face that no one else at this table quite sees. A stupid, idiotic continuation of your flirtatious game of cat and mouse from earlier in the apartment, when he’d deliberately gotten you hot and bothered. When he’d deliberately let you leave in his shirt. His palm is warm when he shifts ever so slightly, placing it on your thigh beneath the table. Out of sight from everyone else. Fueling and fanning all your growing flames. 
You two were toeing a very dangerous line tonight. 
His eyes darken a bit, and you pray no one else notices in the dim bar lighting, “I don’t know, am I?” 
Everyone is distracted enough with your idea. Steve and Jonathan were agreeing, saying they could take one shot and then others in the group could shoulder the extras. Robin was quick to also say she’ll take an extra one. But Nancy is silent, watching your quiet exchange with Eddie. 
“I don’t think you are, Munson.”
Except he is. Without a single doubt in your bones, you know that he is. 
Your playful smile betrays you. It tugs up the corners of your mouth and it’s clear to any outsider this wasn’t a brewing argument. The game was obvious if anyone was watching close enough. And Nancy, ever the smart one, was watching close enough. 
She’s playing her cards right, you realize, when she waits until the group has ordered the round of shots to say anything. 
“So, Eddie,” she begins, drawing the entire group’s attention to her best friend, “Do anything fun today?” 
He nearly chokes on his coke subtly. “I- Um-” 
“You just didn’t answer any of my texts today,” she continues on, “Must have been busy, yeah?” 
Eddie retracts his hand from your thigh, far more elusive in this action than he had been about removing his arm from your chair, before he fiddles with his hands in his lap. “Yeah – no, yeah. Sorry about that, Nance.” 
He pulls his phone from his pocket for no apparent reason. The shiny new smartphone, having not even bought a case or screen protector yet. You’d already yelled at him for that, claiming out of everyone, you trust him the least to not break the phone on the first day. He’d only laughed and shut you up with a kiss. 
His new phone is placed face down on the table, cherry red glinting, “I just had to go to the mall and-”
“Is that a new phone?” Argyle interrupts him, catching sight of the movement and the glinting, “Oh, holy shit, my dude! That’s a new phone! That is an iPhone if I’ve ever seen one!” 
Everyone – Robin, Steve, Jonathan – are rapidly leaning to catch sight of it as if they can’t believe it. Eddie continues to shrink at being the center of attention suddenly. 
“It is,” Steve laughs in disbelief, “Never thought I’d see the day, Munson.” 
Robin scrunches her face, “Does this mean we have to add him to the group chat?” 
You let out a giggle at that, lips pressed to try and contain some of that smile breaking through as you look at him and wiggle your brows. He immediately rolls his eyes, but picks up the phone regardless to give everyone a better look. 
“Yes, yes. I’ve finally joined the dark side,” he teases everyone just as the waitress returns with the tray of shots. Jonathan is the only one with enough sense to look away from Eddie’s spectacle, thanking her kindly, “Feast your eyes, my friends, for this is where my five hundred dollars went-” 
“Holy shit.” 
Nancy’s sudden whisper of an exclamation has everyone freezing. Eddie stops spinning and flipping the phone to show it off, staring at her with nothing but concerned, “What? What happen-” 
Nancy shares a look with Robin as they both grin.
Oh no. 
“Eddie,” Nancy says slowly, turning her head back his way slowly. 
“What?” Eddie frowns, eyes flitting back and forth between Nancy and Robin.
Robin is the one to ask the question rather than Nancy, “What exactly is your lockscreen?” 
Eddie goes pale. You’re confused, looking at the phone he’s currently cradling with the screen against his palm. 
Did he even change it? Wouldn’t it just be one of the default ones? 
“Guys,” you decide to come to his rescue, still impossibly confused, “It’s probably just some default screen, don’t tease him.” 
“That was not a default screen,” Nancy laughs out. 
Argyle looks around at everyone. Nancy and Robin, both with mischievous glints in their eyes. Eddie, still ghostly white as if he’s been caught red-handed. Steve and Jonathan, both just shrugging at each other. “Uh…. Why do I feel like I’m missing something here?”
“Show the class your lock screen, Eds.”
“Fuck off, Nancy.” 
“Oh my God,” Robin coos, leaning across Steve and pressing you back gently to catch sight of Eddie, who’s dipping his face down, “He’s blushing!” 
“Guys, leave him alone,” Steve insists, sharing a look with you now. But you have no clue what’s going on.
You have no clue what his lockscreen is. 
“Edward Munson, show us that lockscreen right now, or I’m Venmo-requesting five hundred dollars from you,” Robin continues to threaten. 
You look away from Steve and at Eddie immediately, leaning in closer to his space. He looks at you, clearly focusing on your presence more than everyone else’s, and smiles like a child trying to get out of trouble. 
“Eddie,” you say quietly, almost impossible for your friends to hear, “What the fuck is your lockscreen?” 
He slowly and carefully turns the screen towards you, making sure only your eyes can see it, and- oh.
It’s a low quality photo. Clearly taken on his flip phone. Details just a little fuzzy, and the darkness of the photo wasn’t helping. But you can see it clearly. You can make out exactly what it was that had Nancy and Robin losing their minds. 
It’s a picture of you and Eddie, with your head on Eddie’s chest.
For a moment, everyone else at the table doesn’t exist. You hadn’t been insane that night – he had taken a photo. A snapshot of the moment where everything had changed. The moment in which you had given up the fight and completely succumbed to just how much Eddie meant to you, how badly you pined for him and how deeply you liked him. 
“I was going to make it the one of you at Betty’s,” he whispers, “But, I just- I really liked this photo.” 
He’s still tense, as if he expects you to be upset with him. 
You’re the farthest thing from upset at him. 
“You made me your lockscreen?” you breathe out, a slow-growing smile beginning to stretch your lips. 
You’re not upset at him. As a matter of fact, you’re in love with him. You want to scream it from every rooftop, shout it to every stranger on the street – you are in love with Eddie Munson.
And you have been for a while. You just hadn’t found a way to tell him yet.
“Yeah,” he loosens up a little when he realizes you’re happy, enamored with the fact, “Yeah, of course I did. Who else am I going to make it besides my favorite…. Enemy?” 
He says it loud enough for everyone to hear clearly. All of Nancy’s teasing has come to a halt, Robin has settled back into her chair, and Steve is finally looking too curious for his own good. 
“As birthday boy,” Argyle breaks the moment, shatters away the bubble you and Eddie always seemed to end up in, “I am demanding I get to see this lockscreen.” 
Eddie doesn’t make any move to show the screen to any other person, only watching you for approval. 
Well, so much for next time. 
You give him a little nod. 
Eddie makes a dramatic show of it, sighing heavily before he very slowly turns his lockscreen to face everyone else. But even in his dramatics, you can see that weight lifting off his chest.
This, as a matter of fact, changes everything. 
No more hiding, no more lying. One simple flash of his phone screen, of a photo he had taken on a night that no one has even been gifted the details of yet, and all your friends suddenly know.
The reactions all vary. 
Argyle leans forward and squints before his face breaks out into pure joy for the two of you, “Oh, fuck yes! Best birthday gift ever. Pay up, my dudes!” 
Jonathan leans backward, digging out his wallet as he murmurs, “Son of a bitch.” 
Steve only smiles and shakes his head, also digging for his wallet as he seemingly chastizes himself, “I should have fucking known.” 
“Hold on,” you look between everyone as Jonathan digs out a couple twenties, “Wait, did you guys fucking bet on this?” 
“We did,” Robin answers you, holding up a hand to make Jonathan and Steve pause their retrieval of cash, “What do you take us for? Idiots? Now, gentlemen, before either of you payout, we’ve gotta ask the most important question,” she shoves a palm against Steve’s chest so that he’s out of line of sight, gaze set on you and Eddie, “When did this happen?” 
You don’t have any time to be mad at your friends. Because when Robin asks you this, suddenly you’re back to two months ago. You’re outside your dorm with Eddie, kissing him as if tomorrow would never be promised, and you’re home. 
You pulled back from Eddie finally, both of you gasping for breath as he held you steady. Your exchange from moments before still hung heavy in the air. 
You liked him, you liked him, you liked him. 
And the feeling was mutual. 
You’d already known, but it was nice to hear. It was nice to be reminded that this, what had happened between you two, was so very real. 
“I don’t wanna start over,” the words tumbled from your tongue before you could consider them, upheaving from your chest, desperate for Eddie to heard them, “I- I don’t need to start over. I like our story, okay? You had been right – it wasn’t all bad, and… and I don’t want to start over. I never want you to be a stranger again, and I know that sounds stupid-” 
“It’s not stupid,” he interrupted you, forehead meeting yours, “So very not stupid.” 
“I don’t care if you were a dick,” you continued on, carefully, “I was, too. We were both… shitty. I forgive you. I’ll forgive you a thousand times over, as long as you keep trying to make it up to me.” 
“Make it up to you?” he grinned playfully, “And just how do you suggest I start making it up to you?” 
“Ask me out,” his eyebrows raised in surprise, and you knew you must have looked like a wild idiot to everyone else, but you didn’t care, “To dinner, to a movie, to just hang around your apartment with you for another twenty four hours – I don’t care. Just… Just please, Munson, ask me out.” 
And so he had. A first date, a second date, a third. You two had gone through the entire ordeal of every cliche relationship despite the unconventional beginning. You’d gone to dinner, you’d gone to a movie, and you had done plenty of hanging out around his apartment and more. 
“The night of the bet,” Eddie answers as he finally brings an arm up around your shoulders, just as he had wanted to earlier. 
Immediately, both Robin and Argyle let out their own curses, pulling out their wallets just as Steve and Jonathan had. 
You look between them, all the annoyance you should feel just being run over with adoration for these idiots. Your eyes land on Nancy, and when you realize she’s the only one at the table not coughing up any cash, you ask her, “I’m assuming you guessed correctly?” 
“I did,” she nods, looking proud of herself. 
“How’d you know?” 
Nancy raises a threatening finger, before suddenly pointing it right in Eddie’s direction, “That idiot has always been down bad for you-”
“Okay, okay,” Eddie stops her, “I’ve already told her the nitty gritty details. No need to embarrass me.” 
“No need to embarrass you?” Nancy asks in disbelief, “Good God, just how many times did I have to sit and listen to you pine for her? No, no – I have earned this, Munson.” 
You look at Eddie, a glint in your eye, “You only told me about the first time.”
“I only remembered the first time,” he counters, blushing under yellow and faded lights, “I was usually dru-”
“Don’t lie,” Nancy stops him, “There were plenty of rants where you were dead sober.” 
Everyone only smiles at Eddie, a few teasing comments made his way, but none of them matter as you lean into his side, your shoulder bumping his to the best of your ability with his arm still around you.
“Aw, babe,” you coo, warm all over for the man beside you, “You had a crush on me? That’s cute.” 
His chin lowers, eyes boring into yours with unlimited affection. For a moment, it’s just you and Eddie. The guise of you two having your own bubble of a moment. 
His head tilts further, his ears brushing your ear as he whispers for just you to hear, “So did you, if I’m not mistaken.” 
“Not mistaken,” you whisper back. Money is now being exchanged, tossed across the table with grumbles that hold no heat. 
Yeah, you did have a crush on Eddie. You still do. You don’t think you’ll ever stop having a crush on him, even as he’s surrendered himself as yours. Especially not when his thumb is stroking your shoulder as it is now. 
Just like that very first night. The smoky bar fades to nothingness, your tunnel vision focused on Eddie. You know jokes are being made about the two of you by your friends, but it’s all white noise when he’s looking at you like this. Like you’re everything to him, like he’s just returned home after a long week. 
You’d really like to be his home to return to after every long week, for the rest of your lives, but there’ll be time to ponder on that later. For now, you two have time. 
The voice inside your head suddenly comes to life as it recognizes that this is your moment. You can tell him. Now that you’ve told everyone else, you can tell him those three words. Finally get them off your chest. Make it real. 
“Hey, Munson,” you say, still quiet enough for the words to only reach his ears. He perks up, eager to drink your next words. You have all his attention. You always have all his attention, “I-” and then you choke. He stares curiously for a few seconds, and the words just won’t come out. You want to scream – you wonder if it would work if you screeched the three words at the top of your lungs. Probably not, “I’m just really glad you didn’t really hate me,” a pathetic excuse at a coverup,  “And… I’m really glad they made that first bet.” 
He smiles so softly, it strikes you right in the center of your chest. Right amongst your garden that not only had you tended for him, but that he had also had a hand in watering these last few months. 
You should have told him. You love him, and you should have told him. 
“I’m really glad I didn’t hate you, too,” he remarks, squeezing your shoulder a little tighter, “Actually, I’m glad you don’t hate me. Not anymore, at least.” 
“I never really did.”
“You definitely sort of did. You tried to take me out with a glass, remember?” 
You burst into secluded laughter, hearing your friends beginning to pass around the shots but paying them no mind. 
Eddie can’t help it. He pulls you in close, placing an impulsive kiss to your temple and letting his lips linger there. Just pressed against you, breathing in the scent of you. 
That kiss sends shivers down your spine, warmth through the center of your bones. You love him. 
You love him, you love him, you love him. 
So why can’t you just tell him that?
“Aw!” Robin pulls the two out of your bubble, “Aren’t they just adorable?”
“Yes, yes,” Steve passes two shot glasses down to your end of the table, “Absolutely adorable. It’s nauseating. Also, I’d like to go on record – I totally knew the entire time. I was just giving them the benefit of the doubt.” 
“Playing the Devil’s advocate?” Argyle asks, lining up his multiple shots, “I dig it. Even though you’re totally lying right now.” 
“You’re so lucky it’s your birthday, dude,” Steve rolls his eyes, clearly holding back an insult. 
Eddie’s arm stays heavy on you, a welcome weight as you sit up straighter to take your own several shots. 
These were your friends. Somewhere you belonged, filled with people you loved and a boy you could come home to after all your long weeks. A certain happiness that is rare, and impossible to place, and can nearly bring you to tears overwhelms you as you grab that first shot. 
“Also-” Steve turns to you and Eddie, “I knew that was Munson’s shirt. The day he got it, all he did was brag about what a rare find it was. Fuck off with your Target bullshit.” 
Eddie’s hand leaves your shoulder long enough to reach out and thump Steve, laughter booming and vibrating against you, “Sure you did, Stevie.” 
“Target has some nice things,” Nancy offers with a shrug, now holding her own shot glass. 
The seven of you all hold up the first of what will probably be too many shots tonight, the beginning of a night that will probably be remembered through killer hangovers tomorrow and possibly even captured on camera by the likes of Jonathan, Steve, and Eddie. 
“To Argyle,” you take the lead on the cheers, jittery and anxious as all the love you continue to withhold buzzes in your chest, lifting your small glass in his direction, “The most lovable twenty three year old I know.” 
Everyone moves to drink, but Argyle immediately shakes his head, “Nah, fuck that. It’s not even my birthday yet – I demand a new toast.” 
He lifts his brows, staring you down and silently adding, you know what to do. 
And yeah, you did know what to do. 
“Fine,” you sigh dramatically, leaning further forward, Eddie’s arm following. You relish in the tense silence as everyone waits for what you’re about to say instead. Even Eddie is waiting with bated breath, watching your every move, a contrasting yet easy smile on his face, “To bets.” 
A booming applause from your group. Glasses tapping against the wooden table before shots are downed. Groans of disgust as the tequila hits everyones’ tongues. 
Eddie hardly waits before you’ve both swallowed to remove his arm and grab your face, turning your cheek so that his lips can capture yours. Everyone only cheers louder, Steve letting out an obnoxious whistle as Argyle claps. You’re surely going to get kicked out of the bar at this rate. But you really don’t care as you kiss your boy back. 
Next time. You have to tell him next time. 
The night ends in more of a whisper than a bang, surprisingly. 
Everyone has suddenly become a happy drunk, probably from all the love and good news passed around throughout the night. It’s all warm feelings and warm hugs, tequila on the breath and love on the mind. 
You don’t even get kicked out of the bar. Your waitress only smiles at your rowdy table from time to time, and you figure that all the good vibes must be rubbing off on her. 
Steve is the first to call it quits. Robin has drank enough to give herself the hiccups, and he says that after that, she almost always gets viciously nauseous. He wants to get in the car and home before she gets to the point, for the sake of his car’s interior not getting covered in puke.
It’s a domino effect from there.
Argyle quickly agrees, Jonathan offers a guiding arm to Nancy, and Eddie’s arm only tightens around you. The group closes out the tab, putting off worries of everyone paying Jonathan back until tomorrow. Quick, simple, painless. 
Until you all get outside. And goodbyes are exchanged – that’s not the part that gets to you – with promises of seeing each other throughout the week. Everyone congratulates you and Eddie one more time for good measure, Nancy and Steve looking the most proud of you two as Argyle and Robin giggle like children about it. And it’s fine – you laugh along and it’s all good. You let them get in all their I told you so’s and know it’s all in good fun. 
It’s all fine. Until you two branch off from the group, Eddie’s bike across the lot from everyone else’s cars. 
The moment you two are alone, you can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or if it’s the levity of suddenly having a moment that only belongs to you. Your mind wastes no time of reminding you of your pathetic cop out: I’m just really glad you didn’t really hate me. None of those words even sound akin to the real ones you should have said.
I love you. 
It’s not because your friends have found out. You know it’s not that, because just last week, right after your breakdown about whether you were smothering Eddie by half-living in his apartment, you’d had a breakdown because you realized you wanted to fully live in his apartment. You’d had a breakdown because you hadn’t grown tired of him yet, hadn’t satisfied the need to see his face every morning when you first wake up yet. You hadn’t gotten bored with all his lingering affectionate touches. You hadn’t gotten used to the way he’d kiss you in the middle of sentences. He was still taking your breath away, two months later, and you had a breakdown because you realized it wasn’t novelty or a pathetic crush making you feel this way.
You had a breakdown because you love Eddie. 
You love him, ardently so, and you still can’t find the right moment to say those words to him. He deserves to know – the entire foundation of this relationship was honesty.
It’s all you can think about as his hand finds yours and he’s walking up to his bike, practically dragging you up to his bike as your legs forget how to work amongst nerves. 
“So, I was thinking,” he carries on conversation so casually, “You want to spend the night at my place? I know you said you don’t have any class-“ 
Now. Not later, not next time. Now. 
“Hey, Eddie?” you interrupt him, stopping the two of you a few paces away from his bike. 
His face is impossibly concerned as he looks down at you, clearly reading the worry on your face, “What’s up, babe?” 
Here goes nothing – be brave.
“I-” 
Why is this so hard? 
It shouldn’t be this hard, because loving Eddie is easy. 
It’s easy when he’s looking at you like this, like he always does. It’s easy when he wakes up after you, and he comes into the kitchen to just wrap himself around you as you make him coffee, no matter what time of day it might be. It’s easy when he catches your eye from across the room during outings, sometimes winking once he knows you’ve found his gaze, just to see you laugh. It’s easy when he tries to distract you from homework when you’ve been spending far too many hours hunched over your laptop on his couch, coming and bugging you, laying his head on your lap and insisting his girl needs a break. It’s easy when he kisses you and everything just feels right. 
It’s easy. He loves you – you love him.  It isn’t hard. You’re making this hard, when it never was. 
“I love you,” you admit quietly, voice shaking as the words leave you easily. 
Loving Eddie is easy. 
“I love you,” you say more surely, voice raising in volume as you find the willpower to look into his eyes, “I love you so fucking much, Eddie.” 
Each time you say it, you gain confidence in it. It’s true – you love him. You love him so much, it encompasses every inch of your being. It entirely consumes you. You love him. 
His face falls slowly, mouth agape and eyes boring into yours.
You don’t wait for his response. You already have it – in the way he’s still holding your hand, in the way he holds you at the end of each night, in the way he knows both your orders at bars and coffee shops. In the way he will always put himself between you and the street when walking down the sidewalk, in the way when he roughly stops his bike at stop lights that his hand always flies back to hold onto you. In every soft touch and every expression of devotion he has offered you for not just two months, but for over a year. 
“You love me?” he softly asks, finally beginning to come back to life. 
You nod without hesitation, “I love you, Eddie.” 
Now that you’ve started saying it, you can’t stop it. And each time, it’s still heavy and sweet like honey, even as the confession comes as easy as breathing. It’s pouring from every crevice, filling up the night air around you. 
He takes you off guard with a harsh kiss. His teeth colliding with yours, his breath stealing yours, his entire being molded with yours. 
“Say it again,” he begs in a murmur as he pulls you in even closer, desperate as you break into a smile, “God, please say it again, sweetheart.” 
“I love you,” your cheeks begin to ache, the kiss no longer even to be a considered a kiss as you two are just mindlessly pressing your smiles together, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” with each repeat of the sentiment, Eddie drinks it in, “I’m so fucking in love with you, Eddie Munson. You and your stupid lockscreen and-”
“You do not think my lockscreen is stupid,” he pulls away, raising his eyebrows as his palms squish your cheeks, “I saw the way you looked at me. You were eating that shit up.” 
You bite your lip, trying to pull further away from him, but he won’t let you, “I was not-”
“You were,” he cheekily teases, eyes bright as he looks at you, “You were, and it was the best thing ever. Totally worth stealing Argyle’s spotlight.” 
“We didn’t steal Argyle’s spotlight,” you try to defend yourself. 
“We so did.”
You shake your head to the best of your abilities, face still between his hands, “We… Okay, we sort of did.”
He grins like a young boy, all his youth and all his love on show for you as he leans down, pausing right before pressing another kiss to your lips, “We definitely did. And it’s fair, because they fucking bet on us.” 
“They did,” you agree, not even feeling guilty anymore, too consumed by the love for the man right in front of you, “They tend to do that a lot, don’t they?” 
“They do.” 
He finally surges forward, lips sealing against yours one last time. It’s less messy this time, more meaningful. A bit more patient as he takes the time to fit his lips into yours, just as they should be. 
You have an audience. You’re completely oblivious until you hear the cheering from across the parking lot, snapping apart to both glance at where Argyle and Robin are jumping up and down, screaming their heads off. 
“Hell yeah, my dudes!” Argyle’s voice booms as Robin only produces incoherent coos to echo. 
Nancy, Steve, and Jonathan are all just watching silently, shaking their heads, but you can also see their grins. Almost as radiant as you felt.
Steve finally cups his hands around his mouth, sending his voice to you over Argyle’s continuing whooping, “Get a room!” 
Perfectly in sync, you and Eddie both throw up a hand with your middle fingers raised in their direction, still half tangled in each other. 
Your eyes find Nancy. She’s looking at you two with overwhelming pride, a certain satisfaction that breathes out the relief of finally. This may be a weight off not only your chest but Eddie’s as well, yet you can’t help but imagine just how she feels. How many nights she had stomached Eddie’s rambles about you leading up to this very moment. The pay off must be unimaginable. 
Finally. 
“Congrats on finally getting the girl, Munson!” she calls out, but her eyes are on you, winking. 
You see it now. Why they’re best friends. How all her best parts and Eddie’s best parts overlap and compliment one another perfectly. 
Jonathan is the final one to yell across the parking lot at you two, one arm slung around Nancy as the other moves to unlock his car, even his usually grumpy face showing signs of elation in that timid smile, “Now take your girl, home, dude. Spare the rest of us the gory details.” 
Eddie’s laugh reverberates against you physically from how he holds you, also making its way to burrow deep within your chest where all that liquid bliss belongs, as he throws his entire head back and makes you finally focus on just him again. Home. Not just his apartment, but him. You realize now that it’s simply wherever he goes. Where he leads, you’ll follow. It could be a shitty dorm room with a mattress that leaves your back aching, it could be a comforting apartment that holds you ‘hostage’ for twenty four hours straight – it doesn’t really matter. Wherever he is, home is. He’s your home; you love him, he knows you love him, and he’s your home. 
When his laughter finally fades, and he’s looking at you again, his dimples are prominent as ever through his whisper, “Just in case you’ve forgotten – I’m very much in love with you, too, sweetheart.” 
His lips meet yours for good measure. 
It’s been the longest week of your life, the longest year, but you’re finally home.
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