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#( hello hello!! thank you for this; it's great!!
fairuzfan · 2 days
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Can you, my brother, be by our side and share this post with us, and stand with us because my brother, who has been suffering from quadriplegic cerebral palsy since birth, is psychologically tired and we need a serious stance, please, and repeat it every day and we will find a change thanks to you.
https://www.tumblr.com/mahmoud0qassas/751899924329840640/did-you-know-that-my-brother-has-special?source=share
of course, everyone, please check out mahmoud qassas' posts! Can you spare a couple of dollars for his campaign??
#dp
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0cta9on · 10 hours
Text
Stuck With You
length: +2k words
Genre: Fluff
NewJeans Minji x Male Reader (OC)
(Author's Note: My first commission!! Thank you to f_r_e_s_h for purchasing a commission, I appreciate it a lot :) If you're interested in buying a commission from me, head on over to my ko-fi page!!)
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【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★
 A light breeze brushes past you, relieving you of your exhaustion for a brief moment as you watch the sun set below the city of Paris from the balcony of your hotel room. The 14-hour flight from Korea was hell, but the view alone made it all worth it. It has always been part of your bucket list to visit Paris one day, it’s a shame that you won’t be able to actually experience any of it though. With the International Summit starting tomorrow, you need to be extra focused on your work as a diplomat representing your country.
A cafe sits across the street from your hotel, beckoning you with its warm and welcoming light. You watch as the people inside talk and laugh about things you can only assume, enjoying one another’s company on this chilly winter day. A nice cup of coffee sounds great right now, but you have to be ready for tomorrow. But… It’s not tomorrow yet. The night is still young, giving you a couple hours to check out the cafe and maybe even explore the city for a little bit. You did all the extra work you needed to do on the plane, so there’s no reason for you to stay in your hotel room. After the summit is over, you’ll be on a flight straight back to Korea, and when are you ever gonna have the time to come back to Paris again? Besides, you’ve been working too hard for far too long, you deserve to have a small break.
Without hesitation, you grab your coat and exit your room, beelining it straight towards the elevators as you mentally practice the little French that you learned before the trip. With a resounding ding, the elevator doors open and you walk inside, only a couple floors standing between you and the City of Light.
The elevator shifts to a stop on one of the floors, opening to reveal a girl around your age wearing a mask and a cap pulled low over her eyes. Even with the majority of her face covered, you could feel the aura of elegance and beauty surrounding her. Her outfit isn’t anything crazy on the surface - a hoodie layered with a leather jacket and a clean pair of jeans - yet something about the way she wears it is so attractive. You wouldn’t be surprised if you find out that she’s a model for Paris Fashion Week, which coincidentally occurs at the same time as the summit.
“Hello,” you greet as she steps into the elevator. She returns your greeting with a simple nod, a small gesture that makes your heart flutter. You didn’t necessarily believe in love at first sight, but you imagine this is how it would feel like.
The elevator descends in silence, save for its mechanical rumble. Due to the nature of your job, you meet a lot of important people from around the world, so your conversational skills have naturally improved over the years. However, you suddenly find yourself tongue-tied around this random girl, not even a simple “How are you?” can escape your lips. All you can do is sneak little glances at her, but now you just feel creepy. Oh well, it’s not like you’re here to meet women or anything of that sort. You just want to feel some freedom for a little bit.
Suddenly, you nearly fall to the ground as the elevator begins to jerk violently. A hauntingly loud creaking noise can be heard from outside as the elevator abruptly stops its descent. The girl trips forward into your chest, and you instinctively catch her, holding on until the elevator eventually stops swaying.
Both of you share a huge sigh of relief. Even if the elevator stopped working, at least you're not plummeting to your doom.
“T-thank you,” the girl says, her voice trembling slightly. You meet her eyes for the first time, suddenly greeted by the most beautiful shade of brown you have ever seen. They’re invigorating like the strongest shot of espresso, sweet like the creamiest hazelnut chocolate, and warming like the first cup of hot cocoa in the winter. You could spend hours, no, years just looking into her eyes, getting lost in every flicker of her irises and every flutter of her lashes.
“Um, are you okay?”
“Y-yeah, s-sorry,” you stutter nervously, finally letting her go. You turn away from her, hoping she doesn’t notice the deep red in your cheeks.
She starts pushing buttons at random, but none of them seem to work, not even the one to call the firefighters. A wave of dread washes over the both of you at the realization that you have no idea how long it’ll take to get out of this metal coffin. Maybe an hour at best, maybe never at worst. With nothing else you can possibly do, you resign yourself to the ground, resting your back against the wall. This is what you get for trying to live a little - you get trapped in a box, forced to think about the consequences of your actions. All because you wanted a cup of coffee.
The girl sits across from you, tossing her hat and mask off in defeat, ruffling her silky black hair with her fingers. Your breath hitches in your throat - she is absolutely gorgeous. You swear you’ve seen her face before, maybe she’s a model for a high-fashion brand or the daughter of a rich CEO who ends up getting in the news for trivial matters. Either way, you can’t help but stare at her, slack-jawed in awe.
“Um, did you want an autograph or something?” She asks, her eyebrows raised in judgment.
You pick your jaw up off the ground, your cheeks burning red with embarrassment. “N-no, sorry, you just look really familiar. Have we met somewhere before?”
She chuckles lightly at your expression. “No, I don’t think we have. I’m Minji.” She reaches her hand out towards you in a friendly handshake, which you accept with a smile.
“I’m Eric. It’s nice to meet you, Minji.” The two of you share a laugh despite the unconventional circumstances. “Weird question, are you Korean?”
“Wah, that’s a good guess. How’d you know?” Minji tilts her head like a curious puppy, causing your heart rate to skyrocket. You can’t fathom how someone can be this cool, cute, and pretty all at the same time.
“Your name,” you explain. “I live in Korea for work, so I’ve gotten used to hearing Korean names.”
“Really? What do you do for work?” 
“I work at the embassy in South Korea representing my country. I’m actually in Paris for the International Summit this week.”
“Oh wow, that’s so cool!” Minji’s eyes light up with wonder, her smile making you forget about the dire situation you’re in.
“Hehe, thanks! What about you, what do you do for work?”
“I, um…” She hesitates, lost in thought. “I’m here for Paris Fashion Week.”
“That makes sense, you’re very beautiful,” you suddenly blurt out. Your eyes grow wide with shock at your own words. “I-I mean, uh-”
“No, it’s okay. That’s very sweet.” A light pink hue graces her cheeks as she smirks at you. “So, is this your first time in Paris?”
You let out a sigh of relief, thankful that she didn’t take your compliment weirdly. “Yeah, it’s my first time. I was gonna go out and see the city for a bit since I’ll be swamped with work for the next couple of days, but now I’m… here.”
She nods in understanding. “That’s what I was doing too. It’s difficult to find a moment to myself because of my job. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a ton of fun, but sometimes I feel like a robot following orders, not really being able to live.”
The space between you falls silent in contemplation. You know that feeling all too well. You love that you’re able to help thousands of people every day by being a voice for the people who need it, but work can often get in the way of what you want to do. When was the last time you spent time with your family? Or sat down with a good book? Or went on a date? When was the last time you were able to breathe?
“If you weren’t stuck in here right now, what would you be doing?” You ask in hopes that it will lift the mood.
“Hmm, I don’t know. Probably walk around and take pictures of all the pretty lights. Maybe get some ice cream if there are any shops open.”
Your ears perk up. “Ice cream? In the winter?”
Minji puts her arms up in defense. “Before you go judging me, just try it for yourself first, alright?”
“No, I like it too!” You exclaim, surprised that you found someone that thinks like you. “I don’t like waiting until summer just to eat ice cream. It tastes better during winter anyways.”
“Oh my god!” Minji jumps up in excitement. “Finally, someone who gets it! All my friends called me weird for eating ice cream when it’s cold outside!”
Enthused by her energy, you stand up to meet her. “They just don’t understand that it doesn’t melt as quickly so you get to enjoy it for longer.”
“Right?!”
You suddenly find yourself inches away from her face, staring into her big, round eyes. The subtle heat of her breath brushes against your cheeks, warming your entire body. You would gladly spend forever stuck in this moment with her, watching the reflection of the universe in her eyes.
As the saying goes, all good things must come to an end. Minji pulls away, leaving you breathless. You quickly change the subject before the air between you gets too awkward to the point of no return.
“So… Paris Fashion Week. How’d you get involved with that?”
Much to your relief, Minji eases up, leaning against the wall as she turns to you. “I was invited by Chanel to come and watch their show, and I’ve always loved fashion so there was no way I was going to decline the invitation.”
“Oh, you’re watching the show? I assumed that you were modeling for them,” you say.
She chuckles to herself, blushing slightly. “Are you sure you didn’t break the elevator on purpose just so you could flirt with me?”
“N-no, I didn’t, I swear!” You stutter, flustered. Minji cackles like a hyena at your expression, causing you to keel over in laughter yourself from the insane sound coming out of her mouth. The sound of joyous laughter from two strangers fills the small elevator, unsure of how much time has passed or if you’re ever going to get out of there. You wonder what would’ve happened if the elevator worked normally. Would you be here talking like this? Or would the two of you go about your night without a single word shared between each other? Sure, seeing the streets of Paris would have been great, but would it have been as great as this?
Both of you find yourselves lying side by side, staring up at the bright fluorescent light, your stomachs aching from laughter. Despite it being your first meeting, you can’t help but feel like you’ve known her your whole life. Maybe it’s the same way survivors of a big tragedy bond through shared trauma or something like that.
“Do you really not know who I am?” Minji asks after a long silence. You rack your brain for any possible memories of ever seeing her, but only a faint silhouette appears in your mind.
“Sorry, I really don’t,” you answer. “Oh god, don’t tell me we’re old classmates or something. I would feel terrible if we used to be friends and I didn’t know.”
Her laugh tickles your ear like spring grass brushing against your legs. “No, it’s not like that. Honestly, it feels kinda nice that you don’t know anything about me. No expectations, no questions, no nothing. You just treat me like…. a regular human being,” she sighs.
“Now I’m kinda scared to ask who you are,” you quip, catching a smile from her. “Maybe I don’t have it as bad as you, but I can relate to you somewhat. There’s a lot of people depending on me to make the right decisions and if I miss up even a little bit, so many people get affected by it. If I get recognized in the streets, sometimes they’ll outright tell me what to do, talking about how their families would suffer because of me or outright threatening me to do what they want. It feels like I’m constantly walking on a tightrope being held by two sides that hate each other. No matter what I do, someone is always unhappy.”
Minji meets your eyes in mutual understanding. “That sounds really tough. I’m sorry, Eric.”
Such a simple gesture, yet one that you desperately needed. Talking to her feels like a massive weight is being lifted off of you. The amount of silent suffering you’ve had to endure over the years is finally being unloaded without judgment. With how many people’s lives you affect every day, you never truly realized just how lonely you feel. Thanks to Minji, you feel a little less alone.
“So, what is that you do?” You ask to lift up the mood. “I’ve been dying to know. I’m assuming you’re a celebrity of some kind?”
She smirks at you. “Have you ever heard of New Jeans?”
And then it clicks. You’ve seen her face plastered everywhere in Korea, billboards, ads, commercials, less than 24 hours ago you walked past her face in the airport right before you left. While you aren’t the biggest Kpop fan in the world, you would be lying if you said you didn’t have Hype Boy in your playlist for a solid month.
“Ah, so that’s why you looked so familiar. I’m glad you’re not a classmate I forgot about,” you joke.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if we were friends in another lifetime. You’re very easy to talk to.” Minji meets your eyes, casting that warm smile that makes you feel at ease. You forget that you’re in this tiny box with no way out but patience. You forget that in less than 24 hours, you’ll be surrounded by the most important figures in the world, attending a conference that can impact billions of people across the globe. You forget about your feelings of loneliness, anxiety, and stress that you’ve been feeling recently. As you look into Minji’s eyes, all you can think about is her. Her kindness. Her radiance. Her laugh. Just her.
The elevator begins to shake around you, rumbling to life. Your eyes shut, bracing for impact, but all you feel is the gradual descent of the elevator before it lands on the first floor. You and Minji stand up, not a word exchanged between the two of you. Is this… it? Is it over? Are you just supposed to go your separate ways now?
The doors open to reveal the owner of the hotel on the other side, relief and guilt painted on his sweaty face. “I-I am terribly sorry about the elevator, are you two alright?” He asks.
As you reassure him of your safety, you notice Minji quickly slipping past, donning her mask and hat. You decline the owner’s offer of a free spa day and chase after her.
Minji is an idol. Intimidatingly gorgeous, held to an impossibly high standard that she somehow manages to exceed at every turn. Despite that, she’s also kind, humorous, and down to Earth, nothing like many of the celebrities you’ve seen on social media. Even in your brief meeting, she understood you. She wanted to understand you. You can visit Paris again sometime in the future. But Minji? You’ll never meet a person like her again.
You push through the doors, hit by the frigid winter air as a gentle dusting of snow falls upon Paris. Minji stands at a cross walk, her silhouette covered by unmistakable, and you quickly catch up to her. “H-hey, hi, um…” The words get caught in your throat as nervousness overwhelms you. Can you really do this? Would you be able to make this work with your busy schedules? Maybe, maybe not. But you’ll never know if you don’t try.
“Would you want to get a cof-”
“Yes,” Minji interrupts you, her voice lilting with enthusiasm. “I would love to have coffee. With you.” The snowfall catches in her eyes, glimmering with hope and excitement.
All the nerves you felt moments ago completely wash away, replaced by disbelief and an indescribable happiness in your heart. Minji intertwines her fingers with yours, warming your body against the cold as the two of you cross the street towards the cafe and the rest of your lives.
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paisleypens · 7 hours
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Hello! I hope you’re having a wonderful day, i just have a request if that’s okay.
Could you maybe do Spencer Reid x fem!reader who is smart but doesn’t really get the chance to show the areas she’s smart in? I don’t know if that makes sense, but like in other words she’s insecure because everyone else is so smart and can figure out things so quickly, yet her brain works slower and it takes her a while to figure things out? So she just feels dumb around them? And one day she overhears (I know none of them would do this but it's for the purpose of the story) someone talking bad abour her and uses the word dumb?
And then sweet little Spence finds her crying? You can have fun with the ending, I want you to have some freedom with it!
Thank you for taking the time to read this, I hope you have a wonderful day. And you don’t have to write this just a suggestion. (AND I LOVE YOUR SPENCER STORIES THEY’RE SO AMAZINGLY WRITTEN LOVE) 💗💗💗
I LOVE YOU STOP IT. this request is gorgeous and so real. i get really bad imposter syndrome so i hope yall find this as comforting as i did 🫶 i also haven’t been giving reid any love lately send some reid stuff my way!!
different strengths | spencer reid x f!reader
~~~
You sat at your desk, methodically typing out a report, trying to ignore the soft chatter of your colleagues in the bullpen. The rest of the BAU team always seemed to crack cases so effortlessly, piecing together intricate puzzles with the speed and precision of master craftsmen. You admired them, but the admiration often turned into a gnawing insecurity. Despite your intelligence, you struggled to keep up, your brain needing more time to process and connect the dots.
Your fingers paused over the keyboard as a murmur from the break room caught your attention. You couldn't help but eavesdrop when you heard your name.
"...she's nice, but she just doesn't get things like we do. It's like, I don't know, her brain works slower or something. Maybe she’s just dumb."
Your heart sank. The word "dumb" hit you like a punch to the gut. Fighting back tears, you slipped away from your desk and found refuge in one of the empty offices. The door clicked shut behind you, and the dam broke. You sank into a chair, sobbing quietly into your hands.
Spencer Reid, with his keen observational skills, had noticed you slipping away. He had always been drawn to you, your kindness, and your unique perspective, even if you didn't see it yourself. Worried, he followed you and after a moment gently knocked on the door.
"Y/N? Are you okay?"
You quickly wiped your tears and tried to compose yourself, but your voice wavered as you responded. "Yeah, I'm fine, Spencer. Just needed a moment."
He wasn't convinced. He opened the door and stepped inside, his face etched with concern. "I heard what they said. I'm so sorry, Y/N."
Fresh tears welled up in your eyes. "It's true, Spencer. I just... I can't keep up with everyone. I feel so stupid."
Spencer's heart ached at your words. He moved closer, his eyes soft with empathy. "Y/N, you are not stupid. Your intelligence is just as valuable as anyone else's here. You see things differently, and that's a strength, not a weakness."
You looked up at him, sniffling. "But I never get to show what I'm good at. Everyone's always ten steps ahead."
Spencer knelt down beside your chair, his gaze earnest. "That's not true. You contribute in ways you might not even realize. The way you connect with victims' families, your attention to detail, your intuition... those are things none of us can do as well as you can."
His words were a balm to your wounded heart, and you managed a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, Spencer."
He smiled back, a warmth spreading through him at your expression. "How about we get out of here? It's the end of the day, and I know a great place for ice cream. My treat."
You chuckled softly, feeling lighter already. "I'd like that."
As you both walked out of the office together, the tension began to fade. You exchanged stories, laughed about cases, and for the first time in a while, you felt seen and valued.
Sitting in the ice cream parlor, the two of you shared a banana split, your shoulders brushing occasionally, sending sparks of electricity through both of you. Despite your insecurities, Spencer's presence made you feel safe and appreciated.
As you finished the last bite, Spencer looked at you, a hint of nervousness in his eyes. "You know, Y/N, I've always admired you. You're smart, kind, and incredibly strong. Anyone who can't see that doesn't know what they're talking about."
Your heart fluttered at his words, a blush creeping up your cheeks. "Thank you, Spencer. That means a lot to me."
He reached out, gently squeezing your hand. "Anytime. And remember, you're not alone. We all have different strengths, and together, we make a great team."
You squeezed his hand back, feeling a surge of affection for the man sitting across from you who would never grab anyone else’s hand normally. "I think so too."
As you left the parlor, the evening sun casting a warm glow over everything, you couldn't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, things would be alright. And perhaps, you weren't the only one with feelings that had been hidden for far too long.
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suempu · 2 days
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How about a blind reader and thistle
Like thistle met them by accident and now they just keep them around because reader makes them happy
gn + human, mage reader + can be platonic or not
<3
first off all, he’s fucking confused cause how the hell did you even end up in the dungeon? thistle first finds out about your existence when you accidentally stumble upon him after his confrontation with laios’ party.
he immediately puts up his guard when he hears your footsteps before you gasp in surprise.
“hello! wow, i didn’t think there would be another person down this deep...” you smile, staff clicking on the stone tiles.
he’s taken aback before asking you questions warily, to which he finds out you had some sort of echolocation ability. you have no clue that he had a sour expression on his face, assuming he only had a gruff voice from the aggressive way he talks.
you normally go dungeon crawling with your party but decided to walk around while they recuperate on the floor above. honestly, how did you even survive? what kind of idiot decides to take a casual walk in a dungeon? on the floor the red dragon was, no less. thistle thinks. you were lucky you missed it.
the two of you sit after you’ve offered him some food and snacks from your pack. he tried to refuse but you just kept on insisting.
thistle is interested in the foggy look in your eyes, unabashedly staring at your face after finding out you couldn’t see him.
you both sit on the floor as you munch on your bread, occasionally asking him questions and making conversation.
after that night, he’s curious about your whereabouts and everything about you, oftentimes sending out a creature to spy observe you. its been a long time since he has found good company, and to be completely honest, he’s lonely.
thistle came to know that your party has disbanded after eavesdropping with his creatures, the members finding different jobs and passions.
to your surprise, he appears again while you’re out camping on the second floor. you smile once you realize its your mysterious friend, eagerly offering him soup he couldn’t taste and a space for sleeping which he didn’t need. but he thanks you nonetheless.
thistle finds peace around you, the only person he could call a companion after so many years of isolation. if he’s in a decent mood, he’ll bring out his lute to play tunes while you hum.
conversations with you are enjoyable, you both find a good harmony of back and forth, discussing various topics such as nature, magic, and his hobbies.
“you write poems? that’s amazing. read it to me sometime?”
“i’m not sure you’d like it. it’d probably make you cry.”
you smile assuredly. “i’m sure it’s great! don’t sell yourself short!”
“you’re facing the wrong way. i’m on your left.”
“oh!”
you two grow closer once he lets you touch his face. the curiosity of what he looked like came out in a question as you whisper it to him unsurely.
thistle is hesitant at first, but your amazed gasps and the gentle touches of your palm against his cheek made his heart ache. how long has it been since someone had held him? talked to him? how long has he went without the softness and comfort of another being?
you caress his eyelids, nose, and ears while smiling, committing the feeling of his face to your mind.
“you’re beautiful. thank you for trusting me enough to do that.”
“how do you know? that i’m beautiful.” he murmurs, looking at the floor in contempt.
“i can feel it.” with a hand on your chest, you tell him wholeheartedly.
thistle allows himself to laugh, reaching out to tilt your chin at his direction. “you’re looking the wrong way again.”
you pout, “well, i can’t look or see at all, mind you!”
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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 20 hours
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i've been having a couple of downer days recently, and i kept looking for a verse i haven't read thrice yet for some comfort, but you're age! gap verse has been a pleasant escape even though its not what i was looking for. you're writing never fails to make me feel better ari 💕💕
Here's how they met 💜
Bruce sighed. He was starting to hate talk show appearances, but at least this one had never been too bad. Angelique was chatty and fun but not grating. Her show ran as school let out. So grannies watched after their naps and kids watched getting off the bus. She ran a little something for everyone.
He assumed he was here for the grannies.
"I'm so sorry I'm late the shoot ran over and I couldn't get away."
The voice caught his attention. Not the fake starlet over dramatic gushing, but genuine distress. And he half turned to look. You looked like you came from a shoot. Straight off the pages of a glossy magazine.
"No worries, Miss Y/L/N we got your call in enough time. We'll just touch up your face and you'll be good to go," the manager greeting you, said.
Bruce smiled a little. Clearly, you were a frequent guest. You thanked him profusely and trotted off. Not needing to be told where to go. And as you go, there's several crew members you can greet by name. You've either been here a lot or worked with them before. Or both. But, it's endearing.
He turned back around listening to Angelique get her updates on where production was. "-And Y/N is in hair and makeup as we speak."
"Oh, bless her heart," Angelique said. "That's what I get calling her last minute." She turned to Bruce and held out her hand, "Are you ready?" she asked.
"As I'll ever be," he chuckled taking her hand, "You know these sorts of things aren't my forte. My oldest on the other hand-"
"Don't you worry about a thing," Angelique reassured him, patting the hand she was holding before letting it go. "Y/N is an old pro- Ah! speak of the devil!" She swooped over and kissed you on either cheek. "You look absolutely divine, is that one of yours?"
"You know it is," you tell her laughing, returning the gesture. "As if I could walk in and NOT wear my own design, you'd never let me live it down."
"So true. Darling," she said grabbing your hand and pulling you over to Bruce, "I want you to meet Bruce. You'll be on stage together today. You know it's charity week and I though it would be great to highlight all the work you do for school arts programs along side the Wayne foundation," she said.
"Hello," you tell him, holding out your hand.
"Pleased to meet you," he said, taking the hand you offered warmly. Giving you his most charming smile. You did look good. And he could tell they hadn't done much to your face or your hair. "I'm a big fan of your work," he commented.
Your smile didn't falter but your eyes narrowed slightly. And Bruce cringed internally Shit. She thinks I mean the Playboy spread, he thought. "Your last movie, the drama, especially. The range of emotion and the depth- It really was incredible."
"Thank you," you tell him. "It was challenging but I really enjoyed it."
Bruce felt his face heat when Angelique coughed and he remembered hearing that you had the ability to make someone feel like they were the only person in the room. He'd forgotten for just a second. In just that brief moment that he was waiting for an appearance. "It showed I uh- my kids made fun of me when I cried at the end-"
"Aww, Angelique gushed, "This is amazing. you guys keep up this chemistry. It'll go totally viral." She bounced on the balls of her feet and kissed your cheek again, "I'll have someone bring you a coffee, sweetie. You're going to start wilting soon."
And before you could say anything or Bruce could offer to go and get it for you himself, Angelique had bustled off to find and assistant to give marching orders to.
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togament · 22 hours
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Hello ✨
How are you doing? It has been a while, since I've been so obsessed with an anime and an anime boy at that 😩 Could I ask for general romantic to naughty Headcanons for Hayato Suo with a female reader?
It would be absolutely lovely 💕 Thank you
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hullo, anon! welcome welcome to the winbre fandom ✨ pull up a chair, relax and brainrot with us why wontcha?
suo is such an enigma — he’s so hard to read but he’s so… open at the same time? love him to bits tho. ok onto the romantic, sappy, filthy and sexy headcanons for our eye-patch having pretty boy.
𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : fem!reader, suo eaaaaats, suo's mean :c, READER BEGS, heavy on the teasing
NSFW under the cut later. so pls, MDNI ok? besitos mua.
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S F W .
absolute gentleman. this man will open doors for you, hold your purse without any embarrassment, bring you 'just because' bouquets and celebratory bouquets, wine and dine you. you are absolutely a spoiled son of a gun with suo everybody around you is kinda jealous of it.
loves it when you smell him. LOOK AT HIM AND TELL ME HE DOESN'T LOOK LIKE HE SMELLS GREAT. I DARE YOU. DOUBLE DARE YOU. he rarely ever breaks a sweat in fights and on hot summer days it's weird. he finds it endearing when you lean close to him to smell his shirt or coat. (he sneaks in forehead kisses that way :)))))) ) ((he smells lightly of soap, heavy on the sandalwood incense, clove and patchouli and you can't tell me otherwise.))
has to have your hand in his at all times. no matter what. he likes teasing sakura and nirei whenever he catches them eyeing you both subtly (little shit). if you're averse to physical touch, don't fret. just having you close to him is enough.
is great at giving massages. LISTEN. have you seen his hands? HI??? your man gives you the best back rubs, can wring out the worst knots on your body like no big deal. it's almost like it comes naturally for him. soft pressure? he's got you. medium? sure. hard pressure? "are you certain, dove?" well... okay.
HEAVY ON THE ACTS OF SERVICE. he is at your beck and call 24/7. a lover, personal chef, masseuse, help and a bodyguard rolled into one. he does anything and everything for you without questioning it. he's just happy you're happy.
NSFW UNDER THE CUT.
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N S F W .
absolute gentleman has a mean streak. "you're gushing all over me, dove." he coos against your skin, a nasty smirk painted across his beautiful features. his fingers expertly prodding you. fuck. he knows your body better than you do. "give me another." he adds harshly, his tone a dark contrast from his previous softness. he's pulling another orgasm from your cunt. the naughty, wet squelching reverberating through your bedroom. he loves fucking you slow but god he loves it even more when you're a quivering, fucked out mess on his fingers. his little doll.
loves it when you smell him loves smelling you. ever notice your favorite panties disappearing from your laundry hamper only to have it materialize in your closet, neatly folded? you could have sworn you didn't wash and fold it-- blame your lover. he likes stealing your used panties, holding it to his nose as he takes a deep inhale. his other hand is on his pretty cock, pumping desperately, animalistic. it doesn't even seem like it's him at that moment. when he eats you out, first thing you feel touch your cunt isn't his tongue. it's always, always his nose.
has to have his hand in his at all times has to have his fingers stuffed inside you at all times. as soon as you both are alone, he's all over you. panties slid to the side, alternating between rubbing your clit and fucking you on his slender fingers. he needs you to get a quick nut out for him before the others return -- can you manage?
is great at giving massages--and loves teasing you while doing it. "s-suo.. please..." you whimper below him while he's massaging your thighs, brushing his fingers against your cunt but just missing it by a little bit. he chuckles, his tongue darts out to wet his lips. "relax, dove. you're tensing up again." he says as he does it again, now fully rubbing your clit for a moment before pulling away abruptly. you curse under your breath. "don't tell me you want me to stop." he teases, an annoying lilt to his voice. he knows what he's doing to you.
HEAVY ON THE ACTS OF SERVICE loves giving and giving and giving. this man. THIS MAN. he loves eating pussy. and I mean LOVES eating pussy. he could bust from eating you out alone -- he's not even jacking himself off. he's soiled a couple of his pants before. you wouldn't know. he loves listening to your breathing go from soft heaves to staggered. if you wanted to ask him to eat you out, he's already on his knees before you finish your sentence. make sure you're ready to cum more than 3 times.
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a/n: ehe this was fun. suo's so fun to write. he's so filthyyyyyy UGHHHHHHHHH. i hope you liked it, bbs.
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shakingparadigm · 3 days
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salutations there ! its my first time actually asking so I’m so, SO sorry if this comes out as awkward . .
I was just wondering, ( to distract all of us from round 7 hahahaha— ), how you think alien stage characters/couples ( Ivantill, Mizisua, Hyuluka ), would be as parents ? just a bit curious to be honest !
your also probably my favorite blog so I appreciate and thank you if you answer this ! have a great rest of your day para ! ☀️
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( inserts random photo of ALNST ocs as token of appreciation, and they totally don’t look like Hyuna and Luka hahahah— )
AHHHH.... THIS IS SO SWEET..... Hello your OCs are so adorable!! I'd love to know more about them!! Thank you for sharing them with me :)
As parents... I think everyone but Mizisua would be a bit of a mess;;
Uhh here are some shitty memes!!
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Mizisua are probably the most harmonious and functional parents! prone to becoming emotional and crying at every little achievement
Never a quiet day in Ivantill's house those fuckers are usually starting shit with each other, lots of old couple bickering and teasing
Hyuna "I raised three kids.... and one husband." because Luka still wants to be doted on as well
Thanks for the ask!! I'm glad you sent it because this was pretty fun and silly!! Hope you have a great rest of the day too!!
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aziraphales-library · 12 hours
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Hi! I was wondering if you got any fics in which Aziraphale can't feel/detect Crowley's love? Thank you in advance 🙇‍♂️
Hello! We have an #aziraphale can sense love tag, so check that out. Here are some more to add to the collection...
what the fuss is all about by chisaron (T)
about food, love stored in said food, selfishness stored in said love, and kissing
Your Beauty Never, Ever Scared Me by midnightdragons (G)
“You – you are an idiot, angel,” Crowley rasped, his lips trembling as he spoke. “I am the farthest from beautiful that any being could ever be." “You’re wrong,” Aziraphale insisted almost angrily, his eyes glistening with tears of sorrow, sorrow that Crowley thought such things about himself. “Oh, my darling, I wish so dearly that you could see yourself through my eyes, for all you would see then is every single beauty that Creation has to offer.”
Made With a Little Something Extra by SparkKeyper (G)
One week after the world doesn't end, Crowley brings Aziraphale a blueberry muffin. ------ In which two immortals settle into a new normal, Aziraphale can taste love in the food Crowley brings him, and both of them really should have figured out what this meant a lot sooner.
Made with Love by Dancer_in_the_rain (G)
“It’s something about how the food is made, it’s… special. And I need to know more about it from the cook himself.” ”Special in what way?”, Crowley inquired, frowning again. ”You really haven’t noticed?”, asked Aziraphale softly. ”Noticed what?” ”The uhm… the love.” ”The uh… wha- ng… wha- what do you mean by that, angel?” Aziraphale took a deep breath. “The food. It’s made with a great deal of love. I could sense it from the first bite I took… No, I’m lying, I really noticed from the moment I first smelled it. Whoever prepared it… they did so with an incredible amount of love and care. And it was dedicated to somebody in particular, I could feel it. A-and I need to ask the cook about it.” Or: Crowley keeps bringing Aziraphale delicious food from a mysterious new restaurant. Not only is the food excellently made, it also reeks of love. Aziraphale wants to know more about the person who made it but can’t get the details out of Crowley.
Trust in My Love-spoons by CookieCatSU (T)
"What am I supposed to do with it?" "It's a soup spoon, Crowley" Aziraphale says, somewhat facetiously. "You eat soup with it" Or; Aziraphale pines, falls in love, and gifts Crowley many, many spoons.
No Nightingales by Doodling_Dork3562 (T)
Aziraphale’s wings appear after his fight with Crowley but when feathers start to fall out, more and more progressively over time, he is devastated when his pure white feathers have all started to diminish. What he didn’t know was that his loss of feathers was simply making room for a new pair of wings that seemed more appropriate for the angel. The only challenge? How long will he be able to hide his little, yet unbelievably huge problem from the demon he was at odds with?
- Mod D
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mrghostrat · 2 days
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hello! I am reading the vampire fic which was a really excellent life choice. It's great.
anyway I wanted to say please don't feel bad about streamers being on hiatus, I felt like the big climax of that was the roommate reveal and you have achieved that! also there are many fics where they fall in love but only one where aziraphale bakes a beautiful cake and crowley unhinges his jaw to shove the cake in his face, has a realization, and stares bugeyed at a webcam. so write wherever the mood takes you, the romance novelist fic is adorbs.
i was not expecting the laugh that came out of me and so on top of being so sweet and appreciated, u successfully woke me up for the day LOL 🥹💛thank u
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w2soneshots · 3 days
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Baby daddy -W2S
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Words: 0.9k+
Warnings: angst, unplanned pregnancy.
Summary: after a one night stand you find yourself pregnant with Harry’s baby, you go to Faith for advice then tell Harry. But how does he react?
a/n: hello my loves😚. Here’s the request! I love this idea and I hope you all enjoy🧸🫶🏼
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"No. There's no way. I'm gonna do another one." My brain rambled as I stared at the pregnancy test. I reached for the small box. It's empty. Within thirty minutes I had used the entire box, all positive. "This can't be happening. I can't be pregnant." I thought, in complete denial. I didn't know what to do with myself. It's not just any normal night I can't just eat dinner and go to sleep. I just found out that I'm pregnant with my friend's baby. I barely slept that night.
A week later I was still trying to process the news. I knew exactly when it had happened. One night (around five weeks ago) I went out with everyone for Freya's birthday. We all got really drunk and I had been touch deprived for so long that somehow I ended up waking up in Harry's apartment, next to him in his bed. Thankfully he was still asleep when I woke so I grabbed my things and bolted. We had completely ignored the fact that we had sex and since no one knew it wasn't really a problem. Until now.
I decided that I needed to talk to someone. I couldn't keep this bottled up for another second or I felt as though I might explode. Faith is who I choose to tell. I know I can trust her and she's my only friend who's actually a mum. "Hey. Are you free anytime today? x" I asked via text. She replied quickly. "Ethan's filming so I'm here with Olive all day. Do you wanna come here? xx" I let out a sigh of relief. "That would be great! I'll see you in 30 xx" "Come through the glass door. It'll be unlocked xx"
I quickly got ready into a sweat set, brushed my hair into a ponytail then grabbed my phone and left. I drove to Faith's house and in just twenty minutes was waiting for her to open the gate. Once I'd parked I hoped from the car. I walked round the house to the glass doors. Then slid it open. I heard Rolo barking then Faith came shuffling into the lounge. "Hi! How've you been?" She pulled me into a quick hug. "Uhm, pretty good." I replied. She furrowed her brows. "What's up?" Uncontrollable tears welled in my eyes. "Oh my god. Come sit." She led me over to the couch.
"Ok start from the beginning." She said once I had calmed down. I took a deep breath. "So you know when we went out for Freya's birthday?" "Mhm." She nodded. "Well I- um- I ended up at Harry's apartment." Her brows furrowed. "I barely remember it but I know we- you know-" "you had sex with Harry?!" She exclaimed.
"Wow. Have you talked about it since?" She asked. "No but I didn't come round to tell you about that." Her face contorted into confusion. "Oh, what did you want to talk about?" She softened. My eyes fluttered closed. "I'm pregnant." I whispered. She went silent. "Congratulations?" She wasn't sure what to say. "Thanks. I uh- I don't really know how to feel." "And it's Harry's?" I nodded. "Well you know I'm here if you need absolutely anything." I smiled lightly at her. "I know." She pulled me into a warm hug.
After I talked to Faith I decided it was time to tell Harry. He deserves to know. But I booked a doctor's appointment first, to one hundred percent confirm that I'm pregnant. I hadn't really had any symptoms other than the fact I had missed my period, which is why I took the test. After a quick blood test the nurse confirmed it. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I had been in complete denial the entire time and this made it real, I'm going to be a mother.
It was almost two weeks after I had found out when me and Harry eventually saw each other. I sent him a text and he had agreed to come round to my apartment. I hadn't told him much just that I needed to talk. When he arrived my heartbeat sped up and my palms began to sweat. I opened the door after taking a deep breath. I smiled lightly at him. "Hi. Come in." I stepped aside. He awkwardly walked in. We sat on my couch.
In seconds I blurted out "I'm pregnant." His mouth dropped open and the room fell silent. "You- what?" He stuttered. "I'm pregnant Harry." I repeated. He swallowed. "And it's mine?" I nodded. "Uh- I- wow." I didn't know what to do, he wasn't talking this very well. "Listen, I don't expect anything from you. I just thought you should know." I spoke softly. "I just- I-" suddenly he jumped from the sofa and bolted out of my apartment. I burst into tears. I really thought- well I wasn't sure what I thought.
I told Faith about the incident and she attempted to comfort me. "He just needs to process it. Like you did. He'll come around. Give him time." She had said. That calmed me and almost a week went by with nothing until I got a knock on my door. I pushed myself from the sofa, that I'd been sat on all day since I wasn't feeling the best. I froze when I saw Harry standing outside my door. He didn't give me time to say a word. "y/n please forgive me. I'm so sorry. I don't know why I reacted like that. I want to do this with you. I want to be a dad." He said quickly. A smile spread across my face. Then I stepped forward pulling his nervous frame into a soft hug.
Years later me and Harry sat in our beautiful house watching our two young kids playing together. Reminiscing about what brought us to this moment. Happy, content and in love.
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oldshrewsburyian · 15 hours
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Hello! I'm an academic who is trying to get back into reading for fun. Before grad school, I *loved* to read, but then it became part of The Job. Anyway, I was wondering if you could recommend some good historical fiction based in the Middle Ages, and, if possible, I'm more interested in reading about women and their lives. (The Name of the Rose is on my list, but maybe something with nuns? Medieval nuns are so interesting!) Thanks for your time and all the great posts!
Hi! I resemble this remark; my fiction-reading hours took a dive during grad school as well. I love The Name of the Rose, so do keep it on your list! I hated Lauren Groff's The Matrix, so... despite the nuns, my recommendation would be: do not. While Ottessa Moshfegh's Lapvona includes many women, it also just... makes up a fantasized version of the Middle Ages that is about filth and abnegation. Also not recommended. These warnings concluded:
Victoria MacKenzie, For Thy Great Pain Have Mercy On My Little Pain, is a fascinating debut novel centered on Margery Kempe and Julian of Norwich.
Salman Rushdie, Victory City, is set in a fantasy version of medieval India and has a female seer as its main character. It's great.
Robin McKinley, The Outlaws of Sherwood, is more interested in greenwood shenanigans than detailed historical context, but I love this Robin Hood novel and think it holds up well (I first loved it when I was 12.) Integrating women into the Sherwood community in a range of ways is one of the interesting things about the adaptation.
Roberto Tiraboschi, The Apothecary's Shop, has a male narrator but many interesting women characters.
Shelley Parker-Chan, She Who Became The Sun, has fantasy elements, and I'm not sure if you're looking for those, but I think the novel's exploration of the possibilities of gender (as affected by religion, as affected by war) in Ming China is really interesting.
I have a somewhat longer list of recs for medieval historical fiction here. I still haven't gotten around to Sylvia Townsend Warner's The Corner That Held Them, but I have been promised that it contains 14th-century nuns, and I really like STW's ideas and prose.
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factual-fantasy · 1 day
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Hello, Factual!
I just want to tell you that your art is amazing! I literally found your account yesterday, and started reading each of your posts, and scrolled down as far as I could (I got as far as 2020), and I haven't seen anything more marvellous in a very long time. Your art makes me happy and inspires me to do my own, these emotionally deep comics, the well written characters of each of the personalities, it all makes me feel a great sense of admiration. Perhaps all this writing may seem fanatical to you, but I just can't contain my emotions to not rave about you. You are truly an amazing person, an amazing artist, and I want you to be happy to create something new, something unique and amazing to delight and delight your subscribers.
Lately I've been in a severe decline in creativity and vitality, and it's been very frustrating and embarrassing for me. But yesterday, after finding your account, I perked up, and I think inspiration and vigour began to gradually return to me. You have given me back the ability to paint again, and for that I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I will definitely draw something for you, I hope it will cheer you up).
I wish you all the best!
I will sign myself as "🎭" anonymous, and will write to you regularly.
-🎭
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Wow.. thank you.. Just, thank you, THANK YOUU!! 😭😭💖💖💖This was so heartfelt and kind! It made my night!! THANK YOUU!!!! 😭😭💞💞💖💗💞
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My girlfriend is writing a story that, after meeting me and hearing my experiences, she realized was about a (fantastical) disability and she decided to intentionally lean into that. As someone with a (real) disability, I have been a sort of beta reader to make sure that she is using her work to amplify stories rather than talk over them - she's been doing a great job on her own, largely in part because she's been asking me the right questions before writing scenes.
However, yesterday she made a post asking for help with the event that caused this fantastical disability, because the most logical cause is something big and flashy, while she wanted it to be something kinda mundane. In her own words, "most disabilities don't have flashy origin stories, they come from everyday things."
In reading the replies to this post, it came to my attention that people who have inorganic internal parts - pacemakers, replacement hips, etc. - would not survive the flashpoint. This felt wrong to me, but not because of how gruesome the image was, but because the overwhelming majority of people who have such parts are disabled. Everyone affected by the event is disabled thereafter, but a large swath of what I've been referring to her as "pre-disabilities" just wouldn't exist.
Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't necessarily find this to be a bad thing per se. It's background details and the actual story is going to take place almost two decades later. It's worldbuilding that might not even see print, depending on how important that detail is to the story.
My issue is that, as she is writing a story intended to help talk about disability, it feels problematic to kill off a significant portion of pre-disabled characters in the background. I've brought this up to her and she does agree it sucks, the issue she has is that scientifically, it is more realistic.
I bring this question to you guys because the two of us are unsure how exactly to proceed. Do we just ignore internal inorganics entirely and let those with them survive even if it's not realistic? Is it okay to let them die for the story? Is there some middle-ground option that isn't coming to either of us?
(I can provide more detail if need be about the story.)
Hello
Basically, you have to be willing to use some Hail Mary complete and utter random caveat that you add in after the fact to keep a bunch of people from dying.
I don't know exactly how this "flashpoint" works but let's say it deactivates technology. Maybe things like a pacemaker, which is embedded inside of a human, can't be affected because the flashpoint couldn't affect it through the layer of biological matter. Maybe you make this a futuristic where all internal implants are made using biochemical engineering because, I don't know, maybe that gives them a longer life in the human body. Maybe the flashpoint is basically a giant magic put hey, lucky us, internal disability devices aren't made of magnetic metals, or maybe, again, they're made of modified biological tissue.
Basically, you need to completely bs it. It doesn't matter how realistic it is, the flashpoint is fake but disabled readers are real. You can do anything, it's your story, so if you want the disabled people to live, you can create a caveat that would let them live. And no one can say "that wouldn't work" because yeah, it would, because you said it would work in a world that you have complete and utter control of.
Don't be afraid to grasp at straws.
Mod Aaron
Thank you for your ask! Please don’t have people killed for having a specific disability! It’s hard to give more information without knowing what the ‘flashpoint’ is, but you could have the event target metals that aren’t used in humans if that’s the issue. You could also make the event something that wouldn’t target a specific group of people, you don’t have to change the whole story, just the side effects of the event. As mod Aaron said above, it’s your story and anything can go, so please don’t put an unnecessary mass extinction event.
I’d also say killing off a specific minority group for a story, whether or not the story is about that group, is a bad thing. People with implants should be allowed to see themselves in fantastical stories and not be told that they’d just be dead so don’t bother. As you said this happens in the background, this side effect isn’t integral to the story, so why add it? The readers are already suspending disbelief that this event happened in the book, so why not let them suspend disbelief that people with implants won’t be killed in this story?
Have a good day!
Mod Rot
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octopiys · 2 days
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Hi I fucking love you text posts inspired by meet me in the woods, it’s a really cool and your writing is so good!
Does the fae originating in Mexico instead of Scotland change anything?
How did fae Simon make it back to Scotland?
Soaps a witch? (Cool)
Please tell me the changeling gets what’s coming to it?
Is Simon’s mum okay being so close to the changeling?
Hello hello omg thank you sm anon I'm gonna cry!!!
Fae!Simon is going to have origins in both Scotland and Mexico, 1. Because Scotland in this au is his real home, where everything he knows is from. It's also where the changeling replaces him to get closer to his family and friends. The fae are cruel, but they are harshly just sometimes, and Simon is permitted to notice the changeling. Once he does, it'll be a bit of entertainment for the fae world. 2, Mexico is where he was turned, so his antlers/skull mask are inspired by mule deer. There are gonna be a few other things, but fae are fae, the material world doesn't really affect many things in their realm, unless they choose for it to be so.
Simon can go back between both locations (which is not great for Roba), but he doesn't really have that under control yet. He can do this because Mexico is the place where he was changed, and Scotland is where changeling!Ghost resides. They're pretty tied together, since the changeling lives based off of what/who he was, and Simon (unknowingly) takes power from the changeling.
Soap is descended from witches, and has inadvertently become one thanks to his grandma and her lessons. He has no idea about this yet, just thinking that his nan's stories were a way of life, an everyday thing that people do in the private protection of their homes. He's still got a lot to grow into though!
The changeling is... difficult. Simon's mom knows something is up with him, and Tommy is very occupied with his new wife. She knows something is wrong, but she was advised by Ghost's apparent "therapist" that this happens in soldiers, so she's trying her best to be there for him without being too overbearing. Her son was usually quiet, but now he's silent. He never eats her cooking anymore either, always comes home saying he's full. She's found blood on his clothes once or twice though, hidden in the laundry. She just hopes he's not doing anything too drastic to cope. She doesn't want him to follow in his father's footsteps.
Hopefully, this mother's instinct is never wrong.....
thank u for the ask there's so much I wanna talk about with this!!
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jezabelle9299 · 1 day
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Stress Baking; Part 1 S.R X Reader
Authors Notes: Spencer Reid x fem! Reader, fluff, reader is a receptionist or assistant at a police station, this part is mostly set up and introduction. Heavily inspired by me having to get rid of the remainder of my finals week stress baking, some monologuing.
Ok. Got to work 10 minutes early. I can set this stuff down, and make another attempt to get the rest of the flour out of my hair.
You were stumbling from your car, laptop bag and keys in one hand, backpack full of study guides and practice tests resting on your shoulders, and two reusable bags filled with pastries neatly packaged in every foil pan the dollar store had to offer.
“Whoa, Y/N, are you ok?” One of the officers said, holding the door open for you.
“All good, finals week baking.” 
“I can see that. Is that flour or powdered sugar up there?” She kind of gestured to your hair, piled on your hair in a high ponytail to keep it out of the way. Honestly it could be either, you’d neglected sleep and eating real meals, opting instead to take out your stress with some, frankly aggressive, stress baking. It helped keep you focused while re-listening to lectures from this semester, and the results served as great apology gifts for the people who had to deal with your bouts of uncharacteristic grumpiness during the week. In response to the officer's question you tossed a vague shrug and walked through the door.
Something was wrong. Like really wrong.
What had happened on your days off? You hadn’t given so much as a thought to the news, as you were too wrapped up in studying.
And your boss was trying to meet you at your desk. So much for fixing the whole flour situation before clocking in. 
“Y/N, good, you’re here early. Set your stuff down and get ready. The BAU is on their way now, and I need you to help them get set up.”
“The BAU?” you replied, head tilting with confusion.
“The Behavioral Analysis Unit… of the FBI?” He responded, with more condescension than was strictly necessary. 
“The FBI? Here? Why?”
“Really? Have you been living under a rock for the last 3 days? I don’t have time to explain it to you, I’m buried with paperwork over the most recent crime scene, and the governor is expecting a call about all this. Right now I need you to start getting the conference room ready, according to these specifications.” He handed you a piece of notebook paper, containing his nearly illegible handwriting, and a list of what the FBI needs. You finally set your bags down, and grabbed a pen to check things off as you went. 
There. Everything’s perfect, now you can finally get some work done. 
And nevermind. A black SUV pulled up, and out came the FBI, clown car style. 5 of them stuffed into one car, that can’t have been comfortable. They were heading right for your desk in the precinct lobby. 
“Hello my name is Agent Hotchner, where can I find your captain?” Said who you could only assume was their boss, as he looked like a child's drawing of an FBI agent, in a full black suit, while everyone else was much more casual. 
“Hi! I’m Y/N, the captain’s in his office right now, he told me to show you to your workspace and he’ll meet you there?” He gave a quick nod and a thank you as you did a quick turn toward the conference room, your bright pink skirt flaring out to its full radius as you pivot. You keep talking as you weave through the hustle and bustle of the precinct.
“There are fewer of you guys than I thought, so there’s a few extra chairs in there.”
“There are more of us in the second car, they’re running a little behind after picking up some extra paperwork. Dr. Reid and Agent Morgan will be here momentarily.”
“Alrighty then, the supplies you requested should all be here, and I’ll be around at my desk if there;s anything I can do for you, just let me know!” 
Just as you started for the door to get some more studying, and maybe some of your actual work done, a dark haired woman spoke up: “Sorry, but what is that?” She gestured to the small pile of foil tupperware filled with baklava, brownies, cupcakes, and cookies. It felt a whole lot sillier now that you had to explain it to the FBI. You could hear who you assumed were the other agents coming in behind you, but your focus was on the 5 already staring at you, while you tried to formulate an answer that kept you from seeming completely insane. “Oh-uh, I’m a college student, -and it’s finals week -um, when I get stressed I bake, kind of excessively. But-um don’t feel like you have to eat them, I mostly just needed to get them out of my kitchen.”
Hotchner spoke up again, “It was a kind gesture, thank you.”
“Studies actually show that the physical activities and sensations associated with baking are grounding for people with anxiety, as it heightens awareness of the body and presence in the moment; which both reduces stress and improves mood.” Someone spoke from behind you. As you turned to see who it was you saw him. Heaven in a purple scarf.
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fuctacles · 17 hours
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@steddiesummerexchange for @chaosgremlinmunson | part 2/3 | beta @stevesjockstrap 💚
T | 10858 | Steddie, Buckingham, platonic Stobin and Hellcheer, Wayne&Eddie | Soulmate AU, unconventional soulmates, misunderstandings, idiot4idiot, fluff | divider & meme doodle by me | Part 1 | Part 3 | Ao3
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Eddie doesn't have to wait long for Robin to call him. He's chilling on his bed, plunking on the guitar and ignoring homework, when he hears a knock on his door.
"Son? There's a call for you," his uncle says through the closed door. (He'll say it's because he values his nephew's privacy, but they both know it's for plausible deniability.) Eddie is confused at first but then remembers he did give away his number that day, for a very important cause. He puts the guitar to the side and jumps up from the bed. 
"Who is it?" he asks upon opening his door, startling his uncle. The man raises his eyebrows at him.
"A girl that's not Chrissy," he says, voice carefully blank and yet calculatingly implying. "Robin from the sex store?"
If she has introduced herself like that, to a random dude's parental figure, he knows she and Chrissy would get along great. 
"It's not like that!" He rolls his eyes, before running toward the phone.
"Should I leave?" his uncle yells back.
"No, please, stay so you know it's a civilized conversation between a tutor and her student," he answers with a glare and picks up the receiver. "Hello?"
"Bold of you to assume we're a tutor and student already," comes the snark comment from the other end of the line. 
Eddie admits to himself, and only himself, that he might have jumped a bit on this one. 
"Sorry, I just had to say something normal to my uncle about the girl from the sex shop," he says pointedly and to her credit, the sex shop girl has the decency to make an apologetic hiss. 
"Yeah, sorry about that. Blurting shit out without thinking is my cardinal sin."
He barks out a laugh. Fuck, she is perfect.
"No worries, I'm sure my uncle has heard worse."
"I have," Wayne mutters under his breath while sorting through their laundry nearby. Well, in the cramped trailer space, everything was nearby. Eddie grins at him and his uncle fips him the bird without even looking up. Eddie flips one back.
"I'm assuming your friend passed my message?" he asks, focusing back on the conversation with his soulmate's crush.
"Yeah, he did. But before I agree to anything, I must ask you something."
"Shoot."
"Are you hitting on me?" 
Eddie chokes on his tongue. 
"No?!" he reacts immediately. He hears her scoff into his ear so he tries to save it. "Not that you're not like, good looking or anything, you're just not my type and I actually really need the tutoring," he says the truth, even if it was just an afterthought in his plan to get closer to her for the wingmaning purposes. "Besides," he pauses, not sure if he should say anything. But something in the way Robin has been communicating so far makes him want to run his mouth without shame as well.
"Besides?" she prompts, slightly annoyed. It's her tone that helps him make up his mind in the end.
"I wouldn't do that to my friend," he says.
The line goes silent. Unnervingly so. Eddie gives her time to gather her thoughts and wonders if it was the wrong thing to say after all. If it was a confession too close to revealing his ulterior motives. 
"Hey—"
"Which one?" she asks abruptly, cutting him off.
"Huh?"
"I'm not into your DnD nerds."
Oh, so she did a background check on him. Well, not that there were many metalhead Eddies in Hawkins High. He presses the receiver between his shoulder and ear so he can pop his knuckles. His hands are itching for stimulation; guitar strings, a pen, a joint, anything. 
"What about nerdettes?" 
His uncle snorts somewhere in the background but Eddie is great and making up words, thank you very much and fuck you, Uncle Wayne, you're uncultured. 
"Yeah, that's..." Robin takes a loud, steadying breath. "That's more up my speed."
Eddie is not a quiet person. He finds it difficult not to voice his opinions and his favorite music has been described by some as "angry yelling". So he's very proud of himself for managing a silent little happy dance, even if he almost drops the phone in the process. He can feel his uncle's judgemental eyes on him but completely ignores them. 
"Great! I'll pass on the good news to her then." He smiles cockily against the receiver. 
"Yeah, uh, you do that." She coughs softly. "So um, am I safe to assume you are scheming to land your friend a date with me?"
"Well..."
"And the fact that I can tutor you, a super senior, while doing it, is just a cherry on top?" 
"Super super senior," Eddie corrects her. "But, uh, yeah, you'd be right." Eddie has a feeling they'll get along smoothly. Maybe there was another universe where they were platonic soulmates as well. 
"Does tomorrow work for you?"
"Uh, yeah," he says, almost forgetting what the call was supposed to be about. 
"Please do not bring your friend," she adds, a slight panic in her voice, 
"No of course." He nods furiously, even though she can't see it. "You haven't passed the soulmate's approval yet." 
"You guys are soulmates?" she asks, a bit too loud in his ear.
"Uh yeah?"
"Oh my god! Just like Steve and me!"
He blinks into the ether with a frown.
"You guys are soulmates?" 
"Duh! I've never met other platonic soulmates before. Do you think we could hang out, the four of us?"
"Uh, yeah, I guess?" He's a little bit lost, a ton ecstatic, but most of all, he wasn't prepared for all of this so he's scrambling for words to find. "I think it would be nice," he offers.
"Great. We can talk it out tomorrow, after school?" she offers and it takes him a moment to understand.
"Oh, yeah," he catches up finally, "The library?"
"Yeah, works for me. See you tomorrow?"
"Yeah, see you tomorrow," he parrots. He listens to her drop one last goodnight before the line goes dead.
Wayne gives him a moment to contemplate on stuff, before walking up to him. He takes the phone from his loose grip and puts it back on the cradles.
"Wanna catch me up?" he asks. It's not demanding, it never is, the way he's heard some parents talk to their kids. It's a genuine offer to get involved in his nephew's life. Eddie's eyes finally focus on him.
"Can I get a beer?"
"Can I get a joint?" Wayne shoots back, making Eddie smile.
"Deal."
They sit around their tiny coffee table, sharing a joint while Eddie catches him up on the events since he and Chris stepped into a random sex shop in the middle of a storm. When he's finished, Wayne hoards the joint with a look of concern in his eyes, despite Eddie reaching out for his turn on the weed.
"Son." His voice turns stern, letting him know it's important and he should listen.
"What?" Eddie whines instead, making one more pathetic flail for the reefer. 
"So you meet this guy twice on sheer accident, your soulmates seem to be interested in each other and he has a DnD tattoo, which is something you are very interested in."
"Yeah?" Eddie frowns, completely oblivious to where his uncle is going. He reached out again but the joint was just flying further out of his reach. 
"Son. Don't you think the DnD soulmate he's looking for, might be you?" his uncle says bluntly, clearly the weed speaking through him properly.
Eddie shakes his head.
"I don't have the tattoo to match."
"Kid, I will smack you into a different state," Wayne says flatly and seems about ready to act on his threat. "Do they teach you nothing at school?"
"I don't know, I'm not learning anything."
Wayne glares at him while Eddie gives him an innocent smile. 
"I knew a guy," he says, the patience for his nephew thin yet endless. "Whose mark complimented his wives. He had a fork and she had a knife."
"You're joking," Eddie says with a delighted smile.
"No," Wayne smiles at him. "They opened a very successful bistro. I also knew a couple who got matching marks after they met."
"That's stupid." Eddie frowns. "How is that supposed to make finding your soulmate easier?"
Wayne shrugs.
"Since when anything in life is easy? Or smart? Or making sense?" 
His uncle stares at the wall with that ancient philosopher's gaze and Eddie finally manages to pluck the joint out of his hand.
"Okay, old man, I think that's enough weed for you today."
He doesn't protest and turns to his nephew instead.
"Every relationship is unique, you know? And so are the soulmate bonds."
Eddie knows it's true, but his mind doesn't want to wrap around the possibility suggested here. 
"You know what is very unique? A teenager and his uncle indulging in illegal substances on a random afternoon."
Wayne smiles at him, gathering him into a sideways hug.
"Ain't no other family like ours," he agrees. And then promptly breaks the moment by tightening his grip to give Eddie a noogie.
"Ow, no, Wayne! My hair!"
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"I didn't know I booked a double lesson." Eddie raises his eyebrows when he spots not one but two people waiting at the library entrance. 
The shrimp in a hat next to Robin snorts.
"Please," he lisps. "I don't need tutoring."
Eddie frowns at the tone of the literal freshman in front of him and watches Robin cross her arms.
"I don't know, kid, your Latin could use some work."
The kid bristles, his hackles rising like an angry cat. It looks very amusing and forces Eddie to bite his lip not to smile.
"I am working on it! Thank you very much!"
"So," Eddie reminds them of his presence. "What is the nerd doing here?" he rephrases his question.
"The nerd," the kid repeats, his tone not offended, but proud, which Eddie can totally fuck with. "Heard you're a Dungeon Master?" 
Under all his cockiness and self-confidence, he couldn't hide the excitement and hope. Eddie smiled against himself and gave a small bow.
"Indeed I am. Eddie the Banished, Son of the Moon. At your service."
"Oh my god," Robin groans, while the kid seems about ready to pee his pants from excitement. "Let's go, you nerds, you can talk on the way." She rolls her eyes and turns without looking back. Eddie follows her in the direction of study rooms and the kid trots along next to him.
"I'm Dustin, by the way. A dwarven bard," he introduces himself.
"Dustin?" It rings a bell... "Wait, Steve's freshman friend?"
The kid grins with delight.
"He said we're friends?"
Uh-oh.
"I don't remember what he said exactly," he covers up quickly. "But I do remember he mentioned a party looking for a DM. Are you guys new to DnD?"
The smile he got for that question made him lowkey want to smack the kid and highkey excited to have players he won't have to spend a whole campaign explaining the rules to. He would, if needed, but having seasoned players with their own playing styles he doesn't know yet? That's trouble at the table that he couldn't wait to witness.
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Robin refuses to let Dustin pass through the door professionally labeled (with a black marker on a piece of paper) as a 'student tutoring' room. She puts a hand against his chest when he tries to follow them.
"Listen, Henderson. I promised Steve I'd give this guy a chance..."
Eddie raises his eyebrow at that piece of information.
"And you're going to ruin it if you keep bothering us. Do you want Steve to be disappointed?"
Dustin frowns at her and the arm holding him back. He swats it away but doesn't pass the threshold. 
"That's blackmail," he huffs, crossing his arms.
"That's facts," Robin corrects him. "Go bother someone else. Eddie already agreed to play with you."
"But there's so much to discuss beforehand!" the boy protests. Eddie decides to throw him a bone. Mostly because he really needs to bring that wingmanning to a satisfying end.
"Can you come to our table tomorrow? I'll introduce you to Hellfire guys and we can talk out some details then."
Dustin immediately lights up.
"Can my friends come too?"
"Of course, man. Gotta test your vibe."
"Okay! Tomorrow at lunch!" He jumps up on the balls of his feet, slowly retracing backward. 
"Yeah, bud. See you then."
"See you! I'll show you the characters I've been working on!"
"You really don't have to—"
But he was already gone. Eddie sighs as Robin slams the door shut and falls against them with a groan.
"He's so exhausting," she complains. "Smart as hell, a great kid, but so exhausting."
Eddie chuckles. 
"Yeah, I can see that. How are you guys even friends?" he asks curiously. But Robin shakes her head, pushing herself away from the door. 
"Nuh-uh. You're not getting the backstory yet. Spanish first, chit-chat later."
Right. Studying. The bane of Eddie's existence.
Robin manages only half an hour of his stupidity (foreign-language-rejecting brain, she called it, but he'll keep calling it stupidity) before announcing a break.
She rests her head against her arms, blocking out the light, while Eddie runs through the million topics on his mind that he could start. Apparently, he stares at her hair long enough for her to notice it.
"Just say what's on your mind, man," she mumbles against the textbook.
"Did Steve really ask you to help me out?" This was not what he intended to ask, and certainly not what he was there for, but it was already out.
Robin lifts her head slightly.
"Yeah. He seems weirdly fond of you," she answers with her eyes narrowed like it was somehow his fault her friend was acting weird. 
Eddie shrugs, thinking of a reasonable explanation.
"Maybe he's hoping to find his soulmate if he keeps befriending DnD nerds," he offers. 
She snorts. It feels like she's laughing at him, though. He frowns. 
"Yeah. Speaking of soulmates, though..." She straightens up, suddenly nervous. "I think. And I might be wrong. But it felt similar with Steve, so I'm like, eighty percent sure..."
"Dude, just spill it."
Robin scrunched her nose.
"I have a feeling about Chrissy."
"Okay?" Eddie frowns. "I mean, that's why I'm here, right? To help you guys out?"
She shakes her head.
"No, like... A soulmate feeling."
Eddie's eyes go wide. 
"For real?"
She nods.
"I mean, at least I think so." 
"Well, you have something to compare it to, so I will trust your judgment," he reassures her. Only then do the meaning of her words hit him, and his eyes go wide. "Holy shit! You're Chrissy's soulmate!"
"Probably," Robin rushes in to add. "She didn't say anything about it, did she?" She's adamant about not getting her hopes up. If she was the only one who felt it, maybe it was a false alarm. Maybe she had eaten something bad earlier that day.
"No," Eddie admits with a twist of his mouth. "But she's not good at picking up this stuff. We had been friends for a month before we realized we were bonded."
That does make her feel better. She was the first to pick up on her bond with Steve as well, so maybe it was simply a Robin thing.
"But she's uh, she's interested, right?" she asks to clarify. It feels awkward but still a little less intimidating to have the buffer of her crush's best friend than talking to her directly. 
"She literally wouldn't shut up about you." Eddie grins at her. "Yesterday she dragged me to your store and was very disappointed not to find you there." Which, thinking of, reminds him of Steve. He frowns. "Did you tell Steve? Because I was positive for awhile, that he was hitting on Chris."
"No, I—"
Eddie slams his hand on the table, interrupting her.
"You sent him to spy!" He points at her accusingly. "He was asking about Chrissy for you!"
She shrugs, crossing her arms to give him a deadpan stare despite her fiercely red cheeks. 
"Yeah. And what are you doing right now?"
Eddie grins. Oh, he likes her. 
"Touche," he nods his head. "So, about that date..."
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They agree on a date next weekend, and in the meantime, Eddie dusts off an old campaign of his. A one-shot to make sure he'll even want to play with a bunch of kids. Betwee them and the Hellfire guys there's more than enough players, but Dustin asks if he can invite Steve too.
"I don't invite an audience into game sessions," Eddie tells him with a frown. He's gathering their character sheets to know what he'll be dealing with.
"As a player!" Dustin corrects him. "I've been trying to get him to play with us forever and since it's a one-shot maybe he'll finally cave."
Eddie makes a face.
"I'm not taking in a newbie with all seasoned players," he protests.
"But he knows everything about the game! Because of his soulmate?" Dustin reminds him like he's stupid. And he kind of is, because it should be hard to forget trivia. 
"Uh, right." He scratches his cheeks. "Fine, I guess. But I want his character sheet pronto." 
At that, Dustin digs deeper into his bag to retrieve another sheet of paper from between the pages of his math textbook. Eddie groans.
"Are you kidding me? You little shit." But he takes Steve's character sheet from him. Dustin grins widely, satisfied with himself.
"Just this once," he assures. "Well, unless he likes it."
Eddie huffs, offended. 
"He's gonna love it. I'm a great DM."
"I'm sure you are and I'm sure he will. This Friday?"
"3 PM sharp." Eddie points at him.
"Aye aye," Dustin salutes, backing away towards the school crowd and inevitably running into some kid. Not for the first time, and probably not the last one either, Eddie wonders how someone like Henderson got himself involved with Steve Harrington.
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Friday comes fast and Eddie is excited to have new players at his table again. Some idiots have been spreading shitty rumors about the game lately, so the interest has been scarce. And now he has three innocent freshmen at his table. And Steve Harrington.
He looks out of place between nerdy freshmen and metalheads. In Eddie's personal opinion, he even smells too well to be there. But he won't deny someone who wants to play. So he sets the scene and lets the dice roll. 
It started in a tavern but with a twist. The party heard a couple of leads and depending on which one they chose, it would lead to the proper adventure or immediate trouble. To everyone's surprise, when one of the NPCs stops talking, Steve is the one to speak up.
"He's lying. It's a trap."
"How do you know?" Mike, one of the freshmen, bristles. 
Everyone raises their eyebrows at Steve, who shrinks in his seat. 
"Uh, a hunch?"
It's a very spot-on hunch and the party is right to listen to him. 
The game proceeds and Eddie is enjoying himself, much like everyone else around the table. Well, maybe except for Steve. The further they went into the game, the quieter he got.
"Pee break!" Eddie announces around the halfway point and everyone scatters to use the bathroom, refill on snacks, or smoke. He's about to stop Harrington from leaving, but he sees him saying something to Dustin with a smile, his ass firm on the chair. And soon, there's only two of them left.
"You okay, man?" he asks without preamble. "If you don't like it I can kill off your character and you can go home," he offers. Usually, he would be meaner about it, but he's seen how much the guy means to Dustin. And to Robin. And Robin means a lot to Chrissy and Chrissy means a lot to him, and so the circle closes. He's not going to be mean to Steve Harrington. He doesn't even want to.
Instead of taking the out, Steve asks him a question.
"Is Bernard the traitor?"
Eddie smirks. Maybe Steve was more invested than he seemed. 
"I'm not answering questions like that, man. It's DM confidential."
Bernard was, in fact, a traitor. 
"He's leading them to the monster as an offering, isn't he?"
"What?" Eddie frowns. Did he read his notes somehow?
"He's killed his father that way too."
That... That wasn't in the notes. Eddie didn't write it down, it was an irrelevant backstory only for him to know.
"Did you write the story?" Steve asks, his brown eyes piercing. 
Eddie licks his lips and nods stiffly. He looks at Steve's hand instinctively, having a hunch of his own on how this story unfolds. 
Steve stands up and Eddie's eyes follow, for the first time studying him properly, how he deserves. His stupid preppy polo, his perfect hair, and the moles on his cheek. He raises his hand, the D20 tattoo on display.
"Shake my hand?"
Eddie sighs.
"Wayne's gonna beat up my ass," he murmurs before grabbing the offered hand. 
He lets out an undignified yelp and Steve lets go immediately, shock on his face. It was just a millisecond sting, nothing else, followed by an electric sensation across his body. He looks at his palm, at the point where their bodies just touched.
There is a matching dice tattoo on his skin. 
He shakes the dice experimentally. It rolls and lands on fourteen. Then ten. He looks up to find Steve's eyes on him, sparkling.
"What happened?!" Lucas suddenly bursts in, probably alerted by Eddie's yell. Dustin crowds in behind him, pushing in, and Jeff peeks curiously over their heads. But before Eddie can even start to explain anything, Dustin starts screeching.
"Oh my god! Are you guys soulmates?! You're soulmates! Oh my god, that's so cool! Holy shit Steve! I knew you'd get along!"
"Dude," Steve scolds him softly. Dustin deflates just a bit but he's still jumping.
"Guys," Eddie speaks up, surprised to even find his voice. "Five more minutes?" He looks up for support from Jeff, who gives him a nod and pulls the rowdy freshmen out of the room. The door closes and he has to pay attention to Steve again. He looks back at him and finds his face carefully blank.
"Disappointed?" he asks, making Steve recoil.
"What? Why would I... What?"
Eddie shrugs. 
"It's fine if I'm not what you expected. You're not what I imagined either."
Chrissy was a surprise, so he assumed if there was another soulmate out there for him, they would be more like him. He usually pictured another metalhead, maybe a hot guitarist, a fantasy writer, or a hot groupie obsessed with his music. A preppy guy living a quiet life in Hawkins? Not in a million years. 
Steve shrugs back.
"Robin isn't what I imagined either, but we work. I don't even know you, so how can I be disappointed?"
"Touche." Eddie grimaces. "Let's hang out sometime so we can speed up the process." 
Steve rolls his eyes but takes a small step towards him. Eddie lets him grab his hand and compare the matching tattoos on their palms. They were nearly identical, but with closer scrutiny, he could see the lines on Steve's were softer than on his. 
"We could make this weekend a double date if the girls agree."
"Uh, I don't know..."
But before he can elaborate, Steve's eyes widen, and his grasp on Eddie's hand tightens minutely.
"Shit, I just assumed you're into guys. I did that with Robin too, I'm so sorry." He's pulling his hand away, face red with embarrassment, but Eddie catches his fingers.
"Uh, no, I am. Both girls and dudes. You just... you know."
"Don't look the type?" Steve raises his eyebrow with amusement. 
"Not exactly," Eddie admits sheepishly. "Okay." He exhales. "Double date, huh? Yeah, I can do that." He nods mostly to reassure himself. Steve smiles and squeezes his hand gently before easing away from his grip. The noise behind the door was getting louder, meaning everyone was back from the bathroom break and seconds away from stomping in.
"Great. I always thought your eyes are beautiful," Steve says just before the party reenters the room. 
It's a lot of yelling and explaining before they can resume the game. It becomes the most unhinged playthrough Eddie has ever witnessed due to everyone making the most outrageous decisions to throw off Steve's omnipotence and make Eddie come up with lore and plot on the spot. 
When they are gathering their stuff a couple of hours later, he's exhausted in the best way.
Steve lingers, almost kicking Dustin out of the door. He even throws him the keys to the car, something he never does, but Eddie doesn't know that. He helps him gather his notes and figurines, which he doesn't protest like he would with others. They would snoop but what's the point in snooping when you already know the whole plot?
"That was fun," Steve admits as he hands Eddie the character sheets. "It's a boomer I can't enjoy the story since I already know everything."
Eddie lets out a soft hum while arranging the papers in his bag in a way they won't get damaged. 
"Gareth's been wanting to DM for a while. It would be nice to take a break once for a change and you could play without getting the plot spoilered," he offers. 
"I'd like that." Steve smiles. Eddie grins at him.
"Okay! I think that's all," he says, looking around for any misplaced dice. "Thanks for helping me out. These bastards always make a run for it as soon as we're done."
"You just don't want them touching your stuff," Steve points out, following him to the door as he fishes out the keys to close behind them.
"That's true, yeah."
Steve hovers behind him while he closes up and Eddie decides to spare him the awkwardness.
"You can go, I still have to give these back to the janitor. I'm sure Henderson is itching to take your car for a spin in the parking lot."
Steve straightens up at the reminder.
"Shit, yeah. I better go to him." He runs his hand through his hair, hesitating for one last moment. "See you tomorrow?"
Eddie almost forgot their double date is this Saturday, but he nods at him. 
"Yeah, see you." He's about to turn around and go their separate ways when Steve leans in.
It's just a soft brush of his lips on his cheek, but Eddie's body immediately sets on fire. 
"See you," throws Steve softly before leaving.
Eddie tightens his grip on the strap of his bag. The keys are digging into the meat of his palm, into the new tattoo there. 
"Oh my god."
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[Steve, relating the news.]
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