#mini fics

Tim (shouting): What?!

Bruce: I'm not sure what his relationship was with Jack, but I'm pretty sure he has hugged him.

Tim: Pretty sure? He has! Before he died, I hugged him.

Damian: Your hug is what killed him! I knew it!

Tim (tempted): Do you want me to throttle you until your eyes pop out of your big head?

Damian: Try it, orphan!

Tim (ready for the charges): As Duke says, say less! Say less!

Dick ran over and restrained Tim, holding him back by his waist before Tim could enact attempted murder on the young Damian. Bruce let out an exhausted dad sigh, his shoulders slumped.

He paused his work, stood up, and grabbed Damian, carrying him over to the Batcomputer.

Bruce: Stand here, watch me work, and stop insulting your brother.

Damian: But his anger is funny to me.

Bruce: I don't know what to say to that. Dick, you got anything?

Dick: I can understand that enjoyment, but Tim isn't the one right now! Tim, relax!

Tim: Let me punch him in the soft spot of his head at least!

Dick: We're not doing that. Remember your coping skills. He's a kid, they love trolling adults.

When someone became 6 years old, their soulmate's first words would imprint themselves on their skin. This mark would remain with you until the words were first spoken. Then they'd fade into rosy scars. 

His mother's love for soulmates was passed down to him through her stories. And the child Theo was back then craved nothing else but to get his mark and finally experience what his mother always described as one of the most beautiful things in life. 

Theo's world first came down when his beloved mother died of an unknown sickness, leaving him with a very lacking father, to put it kindly. 

His second disillusionment with life came soon after that, on his 6th birthday, when his mark finally came. He'd stayed up until the clock hit 12, and when he felt nothing different he ran in front of a mirror. His young eyes darted frantically over his skin in search of those awaited words. 

But when his blue orbs— the only thing he had left of his mother —fell on the letters on his shoulder, all that was left of his dreams was shattered. 

On his left shoulder blade, almost on the nape of his neck, were written in clean penmanship and dark green ink two words a 6 year old should definitely not know. 

Avada Kedavra

Unfortunately, given his father's background, he'd had the bad luck of hearing them a couple times. 

He once dared to ask his mother, who with an aching heart had to explain to him how magic could do something so terrible as taking a life. 

That night, Theo sobbed uncontrollably. First he cried again for his mother, cursing the heavens for taking her from him so early. Then he weeped for his soulmate, wondering why the first thing she'd want to do is end his life.

Over the following years, his father tore down everything his mother had built. He raised him with dark teachings and even worse punishments. 

Theo learnt at a young age how caring was nothing but a weakness. How emotions held you down. How your soulmate's only purpose was to be a liability. Something to be exploited and for others to hurt you. 

Theo took everything in with tight lips and a controlled frown, once he learnt where defiance got him. He spent years keeping his head down and listening to the man who was supposed to be his father berate him for doing as little as disagreeing with him.

In secret he would read, learn as much as he could. Not only because his poor excuse of a father said that knowledge was power. But because he wanted something better for himself than what his father had for him. 

Behind closed doors he'd occasionally mourn his mother, as it had been forbidden to even mention her after her passing. Theo also thought about his soulmate, despite resenting her. They didn't even know each other and she already had decided she didn't want him. 

But deep down, his father hadn't managed to completely destroy his mother's teachings. In the deepest part of his heart, Theo still hoped it was all a misunderstanding. In silence, he hoped his soulmate did want him. 

His mother's sweet child he once was grew up into a quiet, apathetic boy who shielded his emotions behind indifference. He lied and deceived to get what he wanted because, after all, that was what he'd been taught to do. 

When he finally arrived at Hogwarts, he fit rather well into the snake pit. He got himself a group of like-minded people: Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Lorenzo Berkshire and Mattheo Riddle. All of them— some more than others —were kids raised in a certain way. Kids forced to think specific ideals, to act according to them.

Soulmates between them were barely spoken. Their families had taught them to think of them as liabilities. So they kept quiet. 

Because they couldn't afford to think about them. They weren’t supposed to have a soulmate. That luxury was reserved to the lucky who didn't have their future— almost —sorted out for them.

But the green satin ribbon that held them back from talking about their marks broke one warm evening in the school grounds. They were just fooling around. Mattheo was using Theo as a dummy for his latest story about how he almost got into a fight with a Hufflepuff. Spirits were high as the son of the Dark Lord pushed his best friend around in a much tamer representation of the events. 

But Mattheo stopped dead in his tracks after a particularly rough push. He’d grabbed his collar, shoving him forward with a bit more strength that he’d intended to. And that’s when he saw it. For a fleeting moment Mattheo’s brown eyes fell on the words on his friend’s body. He barely had time to see them, but he didn’t need more. He’d recognise those words anywhere. Hell, any of them would. 

Theo played it down, as if nothing happened, until he saw Mattheo’s face. His eyes were wide as saucers and his mouth hung slightly open. His eyebrows were so impossibly far up they could have disappeared into the messy curls that fell over his forehead. Theo’s face soured at the realisation, averting his gaze away from him.

Theodore Nott had been insanely careful about it, to the point it borderlined obsession. He always made sure the mark was not on sight and that it had no chance of being. His shirts were always buttoned all the way up and his casual clothes consisted mostly of turtlenecks.

He’d even gotten some kind of weird reputation among his multiple flings as he never took off his shirt. Unbutton it? Sure. But it always stayed on. Being in control of the positions was also a big help at hiding the words he loathed so much. 

Theo had literally done everything in his power to keep it hidden. But it seems his luck had run out. 

“Mate–” Mattheo attempted to say with a hint of panic in his voice, but Theo quickly shut him down.

“Don’t.” He cut in with a piercing glare before storming off to the castle.  

The rest of the group watched the interaction with confused stares, not understanding what had gone wrong. 

That night Mattheo found him in the Astronomy Tower. He was leaning on the stone balustrade as he angrily smoked through a pack of cigarettes. 

Taking one of his own he flicked it alight with his wand. He could see Theo’s deep frown. If he wanted to talk to him, he’d have to play his cards well. 

Mattheo only spoke after taking a long drag, eyes staring far into the distance. 

“Wanna talk?” He casually said.

“No.” Theo's answer came quick and chipped, almost before he finished the question. 

Mattheo hummed in response, not pushing him. If Theo didn’t want to talk, he wouldn’t get a single word out of him. 

Placing the cigarette back between his lips, Mattheo reached for his shirt, tugging it out of his pants. He slowly lifted the hem of the garment to reveal the words written across his hipbone. Like Theo’s, they weren’t pretty either. 

Mattheo fucking Riddle, seriously? 

The grey handwriting was gentle, in contrast to the words it formed. 

Theo’s gaze quickly flickered to them before scoffing, shaking his head lightly. 

“Not even our soulmates want us, uh?” He said, his voice nothing but self deprecating. 

Mattheo chuckled at his comment. 

“At least mine is better than yours.” He teased lightly, with no real bite in his voice. 

Theo’s head fell with a snort. 

“You’re not wrong, mate.” He said with a smirk, as he took a puff. 

After that night the invisible chain that kept them from talking about soulmates broke. From time to time the subject would pop up and they’d slowly start to share their thoughts and marks. 

Lorenzo, the hopeless romantic was the first to cave in. The leather bracelet he always wore fell, revealing a small writing on the inside of his wrist. 

Is that how you flirt?

Mattheo teased him relentlessly after that. He even offered to teach him how to properly flirt so he wouldn’t embarrass himself. But Enzo refused, claiming he wanted to be genuine or something along those lines. Theo rolled his eyes at that. 

Out of all of them, Lorenzo was the one who liked soulmates the most. He found it poetic how souls were bound to reincarnate and find each other in every lifetime. While Pansy shared that mindset, Draco disagreed and called them corny. 

Still, the platinum blond allowed them to see the mark on his ankle. 

Have we met before?

Theo felt a bit jealous. Draco’s was more innocent, untainted by the legacy that hung over their heads. Mattheo shot him a look that mirrored his own feelings. Both of them were in the same boat: stuck with someone who didn’t want them. 

Nevertheless, Mattheo shared his after a party. It was in the early hours of dawn, with the familiar buzz of Firewhisky still clouding his mind and disabling some of his walls. He showed his mark with a scowl and a smirk, feigning indifference against it. 

“I’m sure they’re just surprised.” Pansy attempted with a tight lipped smile, reading right through her friend’s facade. 

“Don’t bother, Parkinson. I really don’t care about them.” Mattheo bit back before chugging down the rest of their last bottle. 

“Sure.” The girl agreed with a curt nod, knowing there was no point in arguing with him. Much less when he was in such a state. 

The air remained tense and charged with feelings, until Blaise took it into his own hands. Rolling up his sleeve, he revealed a messy handwriting in light blue. 

Could you take a picture of us?

Pansy took it as an escape to the awkwardness and poured herself on Blaise’s mark.

“That’s so cliché!” She squealed as she fawned over her friend’s forearm. “It’ almost like a romance novel.” 

The attention was redirected now to tell her off about her sappy shit, but the mood had thankfully lightened. 

Pansy smiled softly. If being pestered about being corny was what took to dispel the cloud of gloom that had set over the group, then she’d gladly take it. It’s not as if they were wrong, anyway.

“If you guys don’t like his, then you’re going to hate mine.” She said as her smile turned slightly wicked. Her hand went up to her forehead, pushing back her bangs. 

Excuse me, is this seat taken?

The words were written in an elegant penmanship with pink ink so far up her forehead that they started to mix into her hairline. 

The boys let out a loud groan at the sight of her mark. 

“Merlin, that’s the most cliché-y mark I’ve ever seen.” Draco winced.

The Dark Lord's return hit all of them like a bucket of ice water. The figures behind their names called them all back to serve for a cause they despised. They wanted to do anything but die for someone such as him. 

Mattheo did what anyone in his shoes would have done. He fled. As soon as he felt the smallest hunch about his father's return, he packed all he could and left with nothing but a hastily written note. 

“He's back”

From the moment he woke up to an empty bed and a bad omen in ink and parchment, Theo missed his best mate dearly. But there was one thing he wanted more than to have him back: that he managed to outrun his cursed legacy. 

Meanwhile all of their arms itched with the blighted ink of the dark mark. If anyone managed to dodge postpone it, it was Pansy. Her mother wanted to marry her off before she got the mark. 

It was not a better fate, but at least it got her some time to plan an escape. 

Their last year in Hogwarts went by in hushed tones and grey skies. No one dared to speak out loud. Theo and the others were forced to take regular trips to their homes to attend meetings and do tasks here and there. 

They hated it. 

They hated how they could do nothing but bow down and obey the one who would have their heads severed at the smallest inconvenience. 

Theo's hands were stained with blood that wouldn't wash away no matter how hard he scrubbed. Screams plagued his mind and sleep was few. Whether to avoid the nightmares or because he couldn't at all, he didn't know. 

His own reflection had become a stranger for him as he made a point to elude it as much as he could. Theo couldn't bear looking at himself— at his mother's eyes. He couldn't.

Each time he faced a mirror, the ocean eyes of his mother would glare back at him and he couldn't help but think “what would she say now?” “What would mama think about me?” “Would she still call me her sweet little boy?” 

No, she wouldn’t. 

With tight lips and permanently on edge, slytherins stuck to each other like penguins in a blizzard. They kept their chins up and their backs straight as they sauntered all over the castle, as if the whole situation slid off them like water off a duck’s back. 

While the whole school hid and cowered in fear, they did the opposite. They talked, laughed, ate and attended classes as if nothing was wrong. As if the Dark Lord wasn’t threatening to turn upside down the world they knew. Because that’s what they had to do. 

But behind closed doors, down in their dungeons, slytherins partied like it was their last day on Earth. Because it could be. Most of them were a slightly off look of being killed without a chance to even explain. 

No one asked where the Fire whiskey came from or who brought it. They just drank their worries away, hoping the following day everything was over. But when the buzz of the alcohol subsided from their minds and the haze of the party faded away, they were back to the real world. A very dark one. 

Then their world finally came down. Harry Potter was back in Hogwarts, and with him the Dark Lord. 

Theo and the rest were abruptly summoned home and then back to the school grounds with a hood over their heads and orders to kill. 

Theo didn’t want to. Hell, none of them wanted to. But what choice did they have, again?

So that’s what they did. They fought. They raised their wands and followed their parents into what was probably a guaranteed death. 

Theo threw spells and curses up and down, not aiming particularly well despite his outstanding marks in charms. He just played his part well enough to keep up appearances. A few expelliarmus and a couple flipendos did the trick. A confringo shot at the ground knocked some Death Eaters out without shifting the blame on him. 

Maybe it was wrong to turn his back on his family. But if helping Harry Potter and the rest helped him live to see brighter days, he had no remorse in doing so. 

And so Theo discreetly attacked his own side, slowing the Dark Lord’s army. Some expulsos here and a handful of petrificus totalus there. He ducked curses as he ran in search of his friends. 

The first one he spotted was Blaise, who was doing pretty much the same as him. Pretend to be on his family’s side while charming his own troops. Sweeping, his free hand locking around Blaise’s wrist. 

“Mate, we have to get out of here!” Theo urged as he dragged his friend after him. “We gotta find the rest and get on the other side or we’re done for!” 

Blaise was quick to pick up the pace, keeping up easily.

“I saw Enzo over there–” he pointed to somewhere in the distance and both men modified their trajectory “–but I have no clue about Malfoy!” He added 

“Bloody hell!” Theo cursed as he dodged a flying spell. “Where is that damn ferret?” 

“I don’t know,” Blaise hissed, hot on his heels “but we better find him before someone else does!”

The battle was ruthless. They barely had time to discern between friend or foe. The beautiful views were once the castle’s grounds were now filled with death and war. The air that had always been clean now smelled like ash and the omen of something dark. 

They had managed to snatch Lorenzo from his family’s side without being spotted and they were now looking for the last two of the group. 

“I saw him over there!” Lorenzo pointed somewhere slightly to their left. 

The small group corrected their trajectory, following his orders. Soon enough they spotted a blonde head with terrified blues. 

They always were good at hiding their emotions, but Draco’s eyes always managed to betray him. 

At the sight of his friends running towards him, he dashed to meet them halfway. They had only been apart from each other for about two hours, but in the midst of the battle it felt like a lifetime. There was no time for hugs, but the feeling made it through only looks. 

“We have to get Pans.” Draco urged and they all nodded. She was the last one missing. Once they were all together, they could officially switch sides. 

Time went on differently on the battlefield. How long had it been since they apparated in? For how long had Theo been running around trying to find his friends? He wasn’t sure. But all he knew is that he was not leaving without Pansy. And neither were the rest. 

“There she is!!” Blaise shouted over the clamour of the battle, wand pointing forward. 

And there she was, firing spells like a madwoman. She was ruthless, incantations flying everywhere from her wand. But just like them, none of them fatal. None of them aimed to hit. Just enough to fool. 

“PANSY!” Lorenzo yelled and the girl looked at them. 

Pansy turned her head at the same time a curse crackled through the air. 

“AVADA KEDAVRA” 

Theo instinctively casted a spell around them, shielding them right on time. The curse struck the shield, shattering it immediately but dispelling itself in the process. 

It was then when the words sank in. Those were his words. The ones etched into his body, forever imprinted on his skin. 

He cackled sourly. Who would have told him that he’d meet his soulmate in such a setting. 

He should feel relieved. His soulmate didn’t hate him. They were just on different sides of a battle. But not for long. 

He wanted to say something meaningful like “do you know how bad those words look on my skin?” or “that’s something terrible to say to your soulmate”. But his mouth outran his mind. 

A sardonic smile appeared on his face as he pointed his wand to his soulmate. 

“You know what? Crucio you too!” Theo shouted at her as the curse formed on the tip of his wand. 

Just like with hers, his curse shattered against a shield casted by sheer reflex. 

His soulmate now stared at him, frozen and stiff like a board. Theo knew how they felt. Both of them bore unforgivable curses on their bodies and had had more than enough time to think about them over the years. 

He recognised her. A Ravenclaw, from the same year as them. Never had the chance to talk to each other. Not that he had particularly tried to, either. 

AKAGAMI NO SHANKS

it bothers them at first.

Shanks usually is carefree, and during all of his trips across the grandline ofc he would often have flings, it might also be possible he has flings on every island his crew has landed on. but the moment he realized he had serious feelings for you , he grew unusually uncomfortable . It wasn’t like him to overthink, but he found himself wondering if he’d be holding you back.

“you know ____ I’m not exactly the most stable guy, im a wanted pirate,” he said one evening, swirling his drink in his hand as you can hear the crew celebrating their victory in the background . “And I’m older. You could do better ____. you would definitely be better off settling down with a shipwright in the city."

You rolled your eyes, “Stop underestimating me, Shanks. You wont scare me off with those type of words. im here with you, and im here to stay.”you said to him with utmost confidence

His grin returned, sheepish but genuine. “Guess I can’t argue with that.”

From then on, Shanks embraced the relationship fully. He’d grown comfortable about the age gap, capable of saying things like, “See ____ would still pick me even if im an old man” this whole thing will and has become one of the key points that makes him love your relationship more.

When anyone dared to comment on the difference, he’d laugh and throw an arm around you. “Jealousy’s not a good look for you, mate!” he’d sneer, brushing it off .

To Shanks, life was short, and love with you? it was worth any risk.

...⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻...

DRACULE MIHAWK

Not Bothered.

Dating Dracule Mihawk is not an easy task, age gap or not. He is known to be the best swordsman alive and not only that but he is a man of few words.

his piercing gaze often leaves you guessing his thoughts. When the topic of the age difference came up, it was you who bought it up.

“Does it bother you that I’m younger?” you asked one night, standing in the library of his castle.

He regarded you with his usual flat voice, setting down his glass of wine. “Do you really believe me to be someone who concerns myself with unimportant things like age?”

You blinked, unsure if that was an awnser you wanted to hear

Mihawk sighed, walking to approach you. “Age means nothing to me, nor will it ever matter in my life. What matters to me is compatibility, trust, and respect. Do you doubt that we share these things?”

“No,” you murmured, your cheeks warming under his intense stare.

“Then stop questioning it, Love ” he said, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “You’re my spouse, no matter what the world says.”

And that was that. Mihawk was a man who lived his life on his terms, and he could care less about how people perceive him. whats matters is he had you in arms reach.

...⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻...

MARCO THE PHEONIX

Somewhere in between.

Marco had always lived on the Moby Dick, his priorities are split between his crew and his duty as Whitebeard’s right-hand man. But when he met you a lively spirit a decade younger , he found himself intrigued.

At first, Marco hesitated. The age gap wasn’t an issue to him personally, but he was wary of the gossip and judgment it might bring to you. He was scared it would make you insecure and uncomfortable in your relationship. He spoke to you carefully, like he was testing the waters between you two.

“You’re sure about this?” he asked one evening as you sat on the docks together, the sun setting behind you.

“im sure marc,” you replied, placing your hands over his. “Age is just a number to me, Marco. What matters is how we feel. and i feel amazing when im with you"

His lips twitched into a smile, a rare but genuine expression. “You’re too wise for your years, yoi.”

From then on, Marco grew more comfortable with your relationship. He is protective in his own way, always making sure you felt supported. When anyone questioned the relationship, he’d brush them off with his usual calm demeanor, saying,“As long as we’re happy, nothing else matters, yoi.”

To him , as long as you are okay with it, then it wasnt a big deal for him. He just wants you to have the upmost comfort.

...⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻...

SILVERS RAYLEIGH

Not Bothered.

Rayleigh had seen and done it all. In his golden years, he thought his days of love and romance were behind him. Then you came along, a ball of youthful energy and charisma that reignited a spark he thought was long extinguished in his old life.

“Age gap, hm?” he chuckled one night as you teased him about his silver hair. “I’ve been living long enough to know that love doesn’t follow rules,and neither do i.”

Rayleigh adored your youthfulness and the fresh perspective you brought into his dull life. He wasn’t insecure about the gap though , if anything he found it amusing. When others raised eyebrows, he’d wave them off with a laugh.

“Let ‘em talk what they want” he’d say, pulling you closer. “We’re happy, and that’s all that matters.”

Robin tells him he’s being negative and stupid, Eddie’s totally the one, she can feel it!!

Steve wants to feel it, thinks the tips of his fingers are buzzing from it, but he just won’t let himself. Not yet. Not until he knows for sure.

They’re on FaceTime, having dinner together because Eddie’s gone away for a few nights with his band for a gig, and they miss eachother. Eddie called him, no prompting needed, and when Steve answered he said: “Stevie, baby, oh my god I missed you— hey fuckin, Jeff!! Look at my boyfriend, how hot is he? I got a cute ass boyfriend, wow, I feel so much better now I get to talk to you again. How are you, sweetheart? I hope you’re okay.”

Steve’s heart fucking bloomed. He feels nauseous he’s so fucking in love.

“What are you doing, Ed’s? You keep looking away from me.”

“I know, a total crime, don’t hate me. I’d much rather look at you, baby— hey shut up, Jeff, let me be in love!” Eddie yelled, tossing a pen at his bandmate across the room, “Sorry, Stevie. Uh, I’m doing some research for some songs I’m writing, making sure I’m not gonna fucking accidentally steal someone’s copyrighted track. Boring stuff, legal stuff, what are you doing?”

“Not much, missing you.”

Eddie chuckles, “God, I miss you too. Want me to come over when I get home? I’d invite you to mine, but these guys always get grouchy after a long drive home and our unit would probably just depress you.”

“Yeah, please.” Steve smiled sweetly, picking at his dinner. They fall into silence for a while, Eddie deep in concentration, his eyebrows furrowed and his tongue poking out over his top lip as he types away on his laptop.

Steve’s got this question gnawing at him. One of those dumb fucking questions that he shouldn’t ask, because it’s stupid. The kind of question that if he asks too many of them, his parter will get pissed off and leave, or yell at him to stop. He’s already asked Eddie one weird question, but it wasn’t even that weird, it still got a strange reaction from Eddie though. Steve didn’t take it as a good one.

Fuck, he can’t help it though, it just starts coming out of his mouth before he can really stop it, “Hey, uh, Eddie…?”

“Yah, light of my life?” He laughs to himself, isn’t looking at the camera so he can’t see Steve begin to blush, thankfully.

“If you became a rich and famous rockstar, would you leave me behind? Be honest.” Steve nodded, “I can take it-“

“Of course not, Stevie.” Eddie said, still looking at his laptop screen, it seems like he barely even thinks about the answer, “Why would I do that?”

“If you were famous, you’d have other options.”

“Yeah, but I have you. Would you leave me, if you got famous?”

“No.” Steve snickers, like it’s obvious. Because it is, because Steve’s attached to Eddie, obviously, Steve loves Eddie more than Eddie loves Steve, probably.

“See, so why would I?” Eddie says simply, a small smile on his face as he looks at Steve like he’s being goofy and weird.

Steve should just shut his mouth before Eddie starts to hate him, but he just can’t, “Well, there are better options for famous people.”

“Not for me.” Eddie says simply, and it kills Steve, genuinely, a fucking stake through the heart in the best kind of way.

“What if you were on a red carpet, and… uh… oh, what if Hugh Jackman hit on you? Would you chose him over me?”

Eddie laughed, “Look, Hugh is hot, but he’s not as hot as you. Have you seen your ass, Stevie?”

Steve flustered, “We- Uh, what about like, Dave from Foo Fighters? He’s really hot.”

“Not my type at all, besides he’s a cheater so ew.”

“Okay…” Steve wonders, “Megan Fox?”

“Gorgeous! But I don’t swing that way.”

“Right, yeah, of course.” Steve sighed, “Oh, you really like Robert Irwin, right?”

Eddie laughed, looked over at Steve on his phone and smiled sweetly, rubbed a hand over his mouth, “Yeah, I like him, he’s cute. Wanna know why?”

Suddenly, Steve feels very jealous. It must show on his face too because Eddie snickers at him, “Uh, why?”

“Because he reminds me of you, dork.”

“What? How?” Steve is baffled.

“He’s cute, I like your little blonde highlights and he’s blonde. And he’s fit like you I guess. But mostly because he’s like, just a good looking chill out dude until you hear him talk, then you realise he’s a huge massive super ultra dork and you can’t help but want to know more about him.” Eddie smiled, turned back to his laptop and Steve watched him scroll through a document through the reflection of his glasses, “If Robert Irwin ever hit on me I’d be flattered as fuck. But I’d kindly reject him, and tell him I’ve got my own dork at home who prepared me for such a moment, by asking stupid questions like would you ever leave me— no Steve. I wouldn’t. Duh. You’re too good of a kisser.”

Steve laughed, let himself feel flustered for a while. Satisfied that he let himself be just the right amount of clingy to let Eddie know that he’s kinda like that, but not too clingy that he scared Eddie away.

“Would you take me with you then? When you’re rich and famous?”

“Oh, you know it baby.” Eddie grinned, “When I’m making millions, you’re quitting your goddamned job and travelling the world with me, and I’ll buy you whatever the fuck you want. I’ll be your full time sugar daddy no doubts about it, gorgeous.”

Steve loves this guy so much. “Yeah, sure, you can be my sugar daddy the day you figure out how to ask me how to touch your dick without stuttering and blushing and hiding in my neck about it.”

Eddie stuttered, clearly caught off guard as he began to choke on air. Steve could hear his friends in the room around Eddie begin to laugh and make fun of him. Steve laughed with him, because Eddie knows how Steve feels about that, he knows that Steve likes how shy Eddie got in bed.

Steve thinks it’s incredibly hot, a guy so confident and out there reduced to a stuttering mess the second he gets a “hot” guy in bed, as Eddie said.

Eddie’s friends begin to heckle and tease him for a bit, and Steve listens in silence as his boyfriend fights with the lot of them.

“Hey, Eddie?” Steve asks, once they’re calmed down and quiet again.

Eddie sighs, rolls his head away from his laptop and over to look at Steve, Steve hates this. Eddie smiles anyway, even though Steve is sure he’s faking it now, and says, “Yes, my love?”

He wants to take it back. He wants to shut his mouth.

“Never mind.” Steve shakes his head.

“No, my love. Ask me, go on. It was a follow up question to the whole fame thing, right?” Eddie shrugged, “I only sighed because you should know that how I feel isn’t something so easily raptured by a mere celebrity.”

“Oh…” Steve nodded, thought about that for a moment. Wondered if anyone else in his situation would have known that, maybe he’s just insecure, too insecure, Eddie’s bound to get annoyed by it. It seems like he already is. “I was just going to ask if you’d ever write a song about me?”

Eddie smiles, blushes, and it’s so sweet, “I already have, Stevie. Three.” He looks back at his laptop, groans and Steve sees in his glasses reflection that Eddie closes all the tabs he’s looking at in anger, “Yah, you’re so easy to write love songs about to be completely honest. But no, I’m not telling you anything about them. You’ll hear when they’re ready.”

Steve is over the moon, “Okay.”

Silence again. He watches Eddie open up a new application, Steve recognises as his music app thing. He makes demos and back tracks with it, which is cool. Eddie begins to play around with if a bit, and Steve listens to the noise and wonders what song Eddie’s trying to create.

He’s got that urge again. God, he’s so clingy. Steve can’t stand how clingy he is, no one can. It’s only a matter of time before Eddie’s telling him he’s too clingy and walking out the door.

He really can’t help himself. Maybe he’s just self destructive.

“Eddie, would you tell the world I was your boyfriend, if you get famous?”

“Yup.” Eddie nodded, “But they’d only know your name, and your face, and how much I love you. Don’t want you getting stalked by weirdos— you know, if I get famous enough that people want to stalk my boyfriend.”

Steve thinks that’s really sweet of him, especially since he had that rolling off the top of his tongue, no thinking time needed.

“Well… would you take me to all your A lister parties and events?”

“If there’s no plus one option, I’m not going sweetheart. Wouldn’t want you sitting at home, worried.”

“What would you do if a celebrity like… hmm, Eddie Van Halen hit on me?”

Eddie grinned, “Then I’d say you’re seeing ghosts, sunshine.”

“If he were alive, though?”

“Then… I’d think it’s awesome that we have something in common, you’re our type— oh! And then you’d get to say you were hit on by two guys named Eddie who played guitar super good.”

Steve laughed, “Would you introduce me to Sabrina Carpenter?”

“It would be the first thing I’d do.”

“Would you get jealous if she hit on me?”

“Oh yeah.” Eddie nodded, “I’m gay as fuck and I’d still take her out on a date, you know, she’s pretty. She’s like, the girl version of you. Anyway I’d be super jealous and heartbroken but I’d tell you to take your chance.”

“Seriously?”

“Yup.” He assured, “You will be hearing from me, I’ll be that crazy ex just waiting for you two to break up. I’d sabotage so bad, but I’d just want you to be happy. But I would hate if that was without me.”

Steve smiled, “Imagine if we were animals? Would you still fall in love with me if we were both little otters or something?”

“Yup, I’d be head otter heals for you.”

Steve laughed, “Dude, you’re so lame.”

“Don’t call me dude whist asking these clingy ass questions.” Eddie snickered out, and Steve shut up.

He swallowed. Stared hard at the camera and tried to surpress his sudden urge to cry.

“You get so fucking clingy sometimes.” Eddie muttered, quiet enough that his friends couldn’t hear him, “I genuinely didn’t think someone could get this clingy.”

Steve hates him.

He’s about to shut off the call when he sees something flash in Eddie’s glasses, squints to get a better look at whatever is on Eddie’s screen.

“Hey, uh, forgot to mention my uncle had this watch he thought you might like— cause I got one, but you don’t wear silver do you?”

“Nope, never.” Steve shook his head, bile rising in his throat, he can’t figure out what’s taken up all of Eddie’s attention, “Tell him thanks though.”

“Got it.” Eddie muttered to himself, pressed enter on his keyboard, and a webpage popped up with large images of golden band rings.

“What are you doing?” Steve wonders quietly.

“Huh? Oh, just mixing some music still, like I was before. Just trying to think up what I should do next.”

Steve is not that stupid. He knows Eddie’s lying. He’s lying so hard right now.

Eddie grabs his phone, pulls it close to his face so Steve can only see from his nose up, and he begins tapping away at his screen.

“Sorry, I’ll put you down in a sec, cutie, just checking something.”

With this closer angle, Steve can see very clearly what Eddie’s checking on his phone. He’s checking his bank account.

He’s checking his bank account, looking back at the web page of rings on his laptop, then pondering something in his head.

“Everything okay, Eddie?”

“Yup, just thinking up some lyric changes. Got them all written in my phone, I’ll put you down now.”

He’s such a liar, Steve’s just confused. And hurt.

“Why are you so quiet?” Eddie wondered, his phone back down on the table like it was before, eyes back on his laptop as he scrolls through rings, “Are you okay?”

“Yep.” Steve nodded.

Eddie sighed, “Hey, would you still love me if we were animals? You never answered back.” Eddie said, “What if I was an otter and you were a little fishy?”

Steve hesitates, “You’d probably eat me.”

“I’d eat you right now, Steve.” Eddie said flatly, then he ducked his head and whispered, “I miss the taste of you. I love kissing you- Hey, can I suck your dick sometime? Been thinkin’ about it.”

“Oh, now you’re brave enough to ask whilst you’re a million miles away and not even looking at me?”

“Yup.” Eddie snickered, froze for a moment with his brows furrowed, clicked on a ring and zoomed in on it, glanced between his laptop and Steve a few times. “Uh, sorry, what were we talking about?”

Steve can see the description of the ring he’s looking at. He can see, clear as day, the description reads (backwards): “Solar - Gold embossed engagement ring.”

Steve can’t believe this. Eddies looking at engagement rings. Is he looking at engagement rings?

“How much do you love me?” Steve asked, a vomit of words.

Eddie smiled, hung his head like he’s all embarrassed about it, “A lot, Stevie baby. A lot.” Eddie chuckled, “I can’t believe I get you all to myself. Not to be poetic or anything, but my life was a dark, empty night sky before I met you, and then suddenly my life was summer sun, gorgeous. You’re my sunshine, right?”

“Right.” Steve nodded, “I love when you call me that.” He squints at the reflection in Eddie’s glasses and can make out the pattern of the sun embossed on the ring.

“God, I miss you.” Eddie sighs, adds the ring to his shopping cart and keeps scrolling.

Jeff walks behind Eddie on his way out of the kitchen and stops in his tracks, walks over.

“Just working on that song, look good?” Eddie asks, and Jeff leans down on his shoulder, “I think if I add this in, this take could be the one. What do you think? Or do you think I’m being too stupid? Is it too soon for that big moment?”

Oh, fuck, he’s really looking at engagement rings.

Jeff smiles, squeezes Eddie’s shoulder encouragingly, “I mean, yeah, in theory. But you’ve never done anything by the book, and all your best choices have been a little crazy like that. If you feel it’s the right choice, and will work well with the music, then yeah, by all means.”

Eddie gins, looks back at Steve, “Yeah, it’s definitely the right choice.”

Jeff snickers, wonders off shaking his head, and Eddie looks so giddy as he takes one last look at the ring.

Eddie’s thinking about proposing to Steve.

“Don’t you think I’m clingy?” Steve blurted out, catching Eddie completely off guard.

Eddie glanced at him, sighed, carefully shut his laptop and set his attention on Steve, “Well, yeah? You are clingy.” Eddie shrugged, “Dude, you don’t understand how lucky I feel, I think. I like that. I mean, you love me so much that you wanna cling to me like a fucking koala. I’m surprised you haven’t gotten bored of me yet.”

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, Steve feels so warm and fuzzy inside.

“I love you so much.” He mumbles, brings the phone close to his face to virtually kiss Eddie, “Do you want to move in with me?”

“What?” Eddie stuttered out, “Uh, are you serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious in this conversation and also about this relationship. About you.”

“Fuck.” Eddie sighed, laughed a little delirious, “Yeah, yes, I do. I’d love that, sunshine.”

“When you get back then. Just… just come over and don’t leave.” Steve nodded, “We can talk more then, about us, and everything. I just want you around me always.”

“God, Stevie, you don’t know how much I feel that in my heart.” Eddie said, two hands pressed over his heart to swoon a little.

Steve doesn’t tell him that he knows of Eddie’s plans, and five months later, when the special day comes, Steve doesn’t tell him that he’s already seen the ring. Though, he does mention it in his vowels, tells everyone watching just how much harder that evening made Steve fall in love with Eddie. That he couldn’t believe someone was falling so hard, so fast, just as he was.

Steve never doubted another relationship again, purely because his only relationship from then on was with Eddie.

He’d never felt as secure as he does with Eddie, since that night, never second guessed his intentions, never doubted their love.

As of receiving your request, it's Friday for me too! Got it at just about 1am (4am as of posting, whoops). It's quite cold for me as well, (and it's a little embarrassing to admit) but I shiver when it's anywhere below 60°f, even when that's the average temp other than during the summer.

I do not consent to my work being used for anything, especially involving any sort of AI. No chat bots, or writing scraps. I only post on Tumblr (subject to change, I will say if it does)

Chamber

⭑.ᐟ Vincent is.. wealthy, man. He knows comfort like no one else, so it's safe to say he moves around like a goose depending on the weather. And why should he exclude you from his activities?

⭑.ᐟ Of course, there are times when that just isn't possible, especially if it's on a mission (should you also be an agent), so he does what he can. Don't worry about the heating bills, you put that thermostat to whatever temperature you want and he'll pay it for you.

⭑.ᐟ Clothes are of no concern, as he's already ordered top tier jackets and mittens in just the right size. They're warm and soft, but not puffy (unless that's your thing) so they don't restrict movement. Oh, and he obviously makes sure to spray them with his cologne for you, unprompted, it's his favorite thing to do.

⭑.ᐟ And don't think just because your home is warm that he won't cuddle up to you. He absolutely still uses the excuse of it being cold outside to cuddle in bed, even if the thermostat is up high and you've got a bunch of blankets. Nothing is better than your boyfriend to keep you warm, yes?

ᯓᡣ𐭩 "Vincent, please!" You cry out, pressing a hand to his face and trying to push him away, but he refuses and pushes against your hand. His arms are wrapped tightly around your waist, and the blankets you've got wrapped around yourself.

"But mon amour! I am freezing." He whines, faking a shiver to try and dig home his statement. You know he's lying, but he looks so pitiful like that.

"And I'm starting to get warm!" Your hand moves down to his shoulder to try and push more effectively, but it's helpless. "Too warm for cuddles!"

"Impossible! You must hate me!" The dumb smile he's got on his face tells you he isn't serious. "If you are warm then please! Give me some, I beg my dear."

It's best to give in, he won't relent until you do. You'll be stuck

Phoenix

⭑.ᐟ The teasing is relentless, what else did you expect? He's pressing his hand against you and pulling back as soon as you get comfortable with the warmth. Watching as you complain with an evil giggle.

⭑.ᐟ Obviously, he doesn't spend the entire time messing with you. Jamie is a kind soul, so he claims! Of course he's giving you his jacket when he sees you shiver. His warm temps seep into the jacket and stay for quite a while.

⭑.ᐟ Should you remain cold, he's more than happy to wrap his arms around you and warm himself up a bit for you. No matter the situation, he'll drop everything to get you in his arms the second your teeth start to clatter together.

⭑.ᐟ Believe it or not, he is a master at making hot chocolate. His mom's taught him as a kid, and he'd always made it for his sister. If you're somewhere with a kitchen he'll whip you up some, all the whipped cream you want.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 "Jamie, it's so cold out here..." You groan, standing at the bus stop with your arms crossed. He's absolutely chilling while you're about to freeze.

"Please, it's not even that bad." He mutters, typing away on his phone. The nonchalance he had was making you frustrated.

"No, it is! I feel like I'm going to turn into a Popsicle..." As if on queue, your body does a drastic shake in an attempt to generate body warmth.

His phone is turned off and pushed into his pant pocket, focusing his attention on you. Okay, maybe it is a bit cold. Quick to fix his mistakes he takes off his jacket and settles it on your shoulders.

The warmth is quick to come, and your body does that thing where it feels really hot when it's also really cold, like a burning sensation. The satisfied sigh you let out puts a smile on his face.

"Prince charming has saved the day once again." He praises himself, wrapping his arm around your shoulders to pull you in. He lets the scoff you make go ignored.

Yoru

⭑.ᐟ Surprisingly, Ryo doesn't tease as much as you'd think. Not even when you shiver from a slight breeze. Maybe a little smirk and chuckle, but no words about how you can't handle it.

⭑.ᐟ He's pretty used to the cold, but obviously not immune. Even if he's cold, he'll give you his jacket and then wrap himself around you for extra warmth. Definitely the type of guy to make a comment about you two acting like penguins.

⭑.ᐟ Absolutely a sucker for hand holding. He'll use the cold as an excuse to hold your hands, and you best believe he won't let go, even when you're inside and warm. Hands stay together, and when you try to pull away he gives you the most devious side eye.

⭑.ᐟ In all honesty, he's rather stay inside with you instead of being in the cold, but he also enjoys going out. Solution? Well, there isn't really one, but he tries his best. Hand warmers are microwaved before leaving, he'll buy you a hot drink to hold, he's bought you a nice scarf to wear, and he'll give you any jacket you want from his closet.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 You stand at the lamp post as you watch him from a short distance. Ryo is at a coffee cart ordering a warm cider for you, and you got too cold to follow him. Surprisingly the wait isn't too long, and he's quick to return with a steaming cup.

"Here." He mutters, taking your hand to hold the cup.

The second your hand touches the cup you're sighing in relief, putting your other hand on it by yourself and relishing in the warmth. He cups your hands in his to keep the back of them cold, and you just stand like that for a moment.

"Better?" He asks after awhile, looking over your face for confirmation.

"Much better, thank you Ryo." You smile at him, finally taking a sip of the drink. Its warmth seeps down into your body, and you're letting out a content breath of air.

When you try to pull away, he doesn't let go of your hands. It takes him a moment, to do so, and when he does he's quick to wrap his arm around your shoulders to keep you close. Not that you're complaining.

Sova

⭑.ᐟ Definitely the best at handling the cold, seeing as he grew up in it. The most ideal solution is to just keep you in the bedroom, surrounded by his blankets and jackets, but that can't always happen.

⭑.ᐟ He knows all the best places to get warm clothes, and has gotten you multiple of each article so you can stay warm no matter what. He's also definitely hand made you some mittens, don't ask when, he has his ways.

⭑.ᐟ Using the fur on his cape to keep warm isn't efficient, but you're close enough to where his body heat radiates off onto you, so it works out. He really enjoys when you bury your face into it with your arms wrapped around his shoulders, but he won't tell you that himself. The way his shoulders relax gives him away though.

⭑.ᐟ Warm food champion. He knows every recipe possible for foods that warm you up quickly. Drinks as well. His soups are to die for, and he'll make any type you want upon request. Traditional Russian food or not, he'll make it for you so long as it comes out steaming for you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 "For you." Sasha sets down a bowl of steaming hot stew in front of you with an affectionate smile. It looks delicious, with large chunks of potatoes and meat you just know is tender as hell.

"Thank you Sasha, I really appreciate it." You smile back at him, waiting for him to sit next to you before you take a spoonful to eat.

When you do you almost cry. It's so warm, and the flavors are amazing. No matter how many times you eat his cooking, it always has the same affect on you.

"So good." You mutter, leaning down to have more. He watches with love as you do so. To know you love his cooking like this makes him very happy.

When you finish, it's with a satisfied sigh. Your body now nice and warm, with your lovely boyfriend next to you. Could life get any better? Yes, it can.

You wrap your arms around him, leaning into his side while he slowly eats his own bowl of stew. His free arm wraps around you and rubs at your back as he eats little by little. This is the best time of year, not due to the weather, but because of how comforting it is to be with him.

Rook rests her elbow on the table, chin in her hand, and regards the lot of them as if she might think they are all a bit crazy. “This was helpful. Thank you.”

“Ah!” Teia silences the lecture Viago is clearly winding up with a raised finger. “My house. And don’t you start, either.” Illario’s smile is wide and insincere.

To Rook, when she seems satisfied there will be no interruptions, Teia explains: “It is one language—Viago, do not—but the northern cities that deal more directly with Rivain prefer some adaptations that the south does not.”

“We prefer to not sound like a bunch of fussy grandmothers so old they need to water their wine.” Illario interjects. Find a line, Illario will toe it. 

Teia’s voice is sweet as spun sugar. “Illario, ancora una parola e lascerai la via breve.”

Rook’s eyebrows are climbing higher. “I am…so sorry I asked,” she murmurs to him.

“Don’t worry,” he reassures her, sotto voce. “We’re not as easily bothered here as in the south. Illario just enjoys an argument.” 

“In some cities, such as Salle—” Teia raises that same finger to Viago. His mouth snaps shut with an aggravated click. “—the more classical dialect is still used exclusively.”

“We have an appreciation for tradition,” Viago huffs.

Lucanis settles it. “In Treviso, we tend to use the newer.”

The way Rook’s lips twitch is wicked. “Which is Antiveeno.”

“Antivanio.”—“Antivan.” Viago and Illario, overlapping.