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@vampwebonline
New intro post....
Im V, im 20, you likely know me for my main blog @doggiepawz
I write all in one go without editing and i write whatever i want whenever I want to.
If youve got an idea and you dont wanna write it yourself, ask me! Ill do it.
Now for the fun part. Welcome to Fangtasia <3
Everything on my blog can be found by tag. I write for these vampires. they are rated on a heart system of 1-5. no hearts means I haven't written for them yet.
Its just a stupid dare. Go out to the haunted property, turn around, get back in the truck. Prove to the town this little chapel wasnt haunted.
Which it wasnt. Not with ghosts, anyway.
Scene from an unfinished remmick fic. Sfw.
The sound of your labored breaths blended with the crunch of your boots on the soil as you neared the property ahead.
Gossip went around quick in this town. Rumor had it those who go askin’ for trouble here never make it back. This building used to be a church before it burned half to the ground.
It was a stupid dare, you knew it was, coming out here with your friends in their dad’s dingy pickup. Loser had to go inside the house and come back. The wood creaks beneath your boots and the flowy fabric of your clothes sway in the warm breeze. You swear you hear a windchime when it passes through.
Truthfully no one knew what was haunted here. The most popular rumor was ghosts who never made it to their burial ground. You glance back over your shoulder at your friends. One in the truck bed, the other hanging out the window of the drivers seat. They were anticipating you to go in, freak out and come running back. It would be fun. You reach for the handle of the door.
"I need help!” in that moment, your blood had run cold. You hear the engine of the truck start up again. Twirling on your heels, your friends had chickened out. Without you.
The sharp cry was enough to shatter the stillness, sending birds scattering into the sky. Your eyes are unfocused, darting all over the place trying to find who called out. They could be anywhere. Was it a missing person? You weren’t sure.
A lesson from your Daddy once went, “Shoot first, ask questions later." With all the disappearances happening in your neighborhood, you wished more than ever that you would’ve brought a gun.
The man staggered closer. It was a man, right? Or maybe it was a deer. The shadow of it confused you. Its eyes were reflective though, shining in the moonlight.
“They... they came outta nowhere,” he choked, voice dry and ragged, like he hadn’t had water in days. “God, please— I ain't here to cause trouble, I just— I just need—“ he rasped.
“Who?” You ask into the dark, feet shuffling on the porch. As he gets closer you know for sure its a man. A scarily unsettling man, with body language a little too relaxed for his supposed condition. “What do you need? I-I dont got anythin’”
“Oh you do.” He loses the facade now that he’s close enough. About ten paces short of you, down in the yard. You almost trip on your own feet flying down the porch steps and back where you came from. “You can help me!” He calls after you, in no hurry to race. Run, rabbit, run, but there was no hiding in the open field.
Your mouth tastes like pennies, your throat is closing up. Your eyes burn from the wind choosing your direction of any. Whatever that thing was it wasn’t a damn person, that was for sure. You make it all the way back to the edge of town, the sign creaking in protest. You take a moment to catch your breath and.. two clean shoes step into your line of vision.
“Aint nice to leave a stranger in need.”
You dont want to look up.
If you ever feel bad about not reading the room, remember that Lestat tried to flirt with Louis during Paul's funeral by complimenting his coffin 😭😭
omg okay hi. weird ask how do you feel about writing ocs,,, like in general. do you have any for the fandoms you write for? how open are you to taking a request with an oc x char instead of a reader?
i like your lestat and wanted to request something but unsure
also will you write for louis in the future?
-🦴
An anon ive never seen! Welcome!
To answer your first question, I do have ocs for interview with the vampire, true blood, stranger things (since I write for vamp!eddie), and baldurs gate. Admittedly I dont write anything I intend to post here featuring those characters but if they interest you (which Im so so flattered) I would love to share them.
As for writing YOUR oc shipped with a character, I totally can! You can either tell me details about them in another anon post or dm me, I think I have dms on. We can talk more about your oc so I have some sort of idea on how they would act/be treated.
In a more general sense, when you request writings you can also ask me to specify gender, appearance, details about the reader instead. To keep things as accessible to the widest audience I do try to stray away from pronouns or descriptions of body type/eye color/hair etc. when I have no request or am taking one without those specifics.
Oh and I can write for Louis, I just fear I will mischaracterize him is all. I can certainly add him to the list for you.
Thank you for asking, I hope to hear from you again soon! Lestat is waiting dear 🦴 anon
Keeping Eric company (and.. maybe distracting him) on the important ‘vampire business’ hes always busy with. Suggestive w/o piv, just you touching him and him touching you.
Eric hated vampire politics. He played it well, always has, bending and breaking every rule in the book— never playing nice with any authority. Why should he? He was older and stronger than all of them.
And yet, here he was, getting ready with you. The queen of his district has invited him to an event that would be rude to say no to. He straightens his tie and flattens the crisp fabric of his suit jacket. The queen insisted on a black tie event.
“I like the pin,” you point out on his blazer. “Did Pam choose it?”
He glances over at you. Pam had fixed you up nicely, probably nicer than he would have if he had the time.
“She did. It’s Cartier.” He makes sure to add, since she would have killed him if he didn’t brag. It was from her collection.
“Is she coming?” You tack on another question. Eric is distracted buttoning the cuffs of his dress shirt.
“No,” he adjusts the sleeves. “She’s not important enough.”
“But I can come?”
“You begged me.” He reminds you, “— and like it or not, Queen Sophie-Anne is a…” he tries to find the correct word. “connoisseur when it comes to people. She wants us to be accompanied by our best human.”
“Best human.” You repeat, tone falling flat. “So you said yes because Im your best human? Not because you want me to,” you accuse lightly.
“I said yes because you are my only human.”
“Sookie is human.”
“No, she isn’t. And she isn’t mine. You are.” he reasons. Eric begins to stride your way, idly making adjustments to your clothes. “Just dont draw the queen’s attention. One word about having your blood and the party ends early.” He warns. You knew it would come to that, Eric is nothing if not possessive.
“I know,” you confirm, leaning into Eric as he takes a moment to trail his hands up and down your arms, over your shoulders before pulling you in and resting his chin on the top of your head.
“You look nice.” He manages to compliment. “Almost too nice.”
“Whats that supposed to mean…” you reply, inching your head up to press a kiss to his neck since it’s in reach. He pulls back, the feeling making his spine tingle.
“It means you’re not leaving my sight. Come on,” he separates from you to lead the way to his car.
-
You barely understand half of the terminology being used in the room. Everything felt above you. Who were half of these vampires? One of them was a child. Laughable, you thought, watching him make adult decisions in a school boy’s body. He was probably four hundred years old or something.
You glance over at Eric. He seems rather zoned out. You get an idea.. one that might get you out of this early. Subtly you move your foot under the table, prodding his ankle. His pale eyes meet yours, everything else about him frozen. A warning.
You nudge him again, smirking a bit. Lazily you lean your head against your hand at the table, propping it up as you keep going. Up his leg… towards his knee and-
He clamps a cold palm over your ankle, clasps it firmly. A second warning. You sigh, moving your head again to nonchalantly expose more of your neck and a bit of collarbone. Eric swallows, averting his eyes. If he could blush he would be.
Nobody had noticed the two of you just yet. When Eric releases your leg you finally move, excusing yourself and walking by his chair. You place a hand on his shoulder.
“Im going to get a drink, want one?”
His voice sounds equally soft, but tainted with something like annoyance. “No. You will come back and sit here.” He places one hand on his thigh as you look down. “And you will stop making a scene in front of the queen.” He demands quietly.
Yeah. Right. No you werent.
“Yes sir,” you reply playfully, leaving. When you return he’s already blindly reaching for your waist to guide you into his lap. still, no-one pays the two of you any unwanted attention.
You sip your glass with one hand and slyly slide your free palm down the front of his dress shirt and towards the belt buckle of his slacks. Eric takes a breath in that sounds like he’s a single thread away from snapping.
He subtly tilts his head to press his lips to your ear and you shiver.
“I promise you’ll regret it if you keep it up.” He warns you.
Promise?
And so you willingly ignore his threat, ghosting your hand between his legs as discreetly as you can. He shifts- well past already hard. You’ve succeeded in toying with him. He tolerates it for a few long minutes. You relish in the pulse of it jumping under your fingertips.
He lets you think you’re getting away with it. Then, when you set your drink down he pulls your hand away and brings your wrist up to his lips to gently bite down on. It stings- but you let him. Other vamires were idly enjoying their +1 humans too, so.. you had to play the part.
You feel his other hand, which was originally reaching around grabbing your thigh, start to slide inward and you jolt. He was getting you back- and now you had to be the one to behave.
His touch is maddening. A fire starts in your lower abdomen and quickly spreads into a flush throughout your body. You’re trying to focus on the way Eric was cleaning your wound and then closing it but it did nothing to overpower the sensation of him groping you. He works you up until your legs are shaking and your stare is glossed over before his touch slips away. You’re left an unsatisfied hot mess.
“Im not done with you,” he expresses softly, pressing a kiss to your wrist before removing his hands from you entirely. “Youll beg when we go home.”
Fuck
Still warm and- admittedly now wanting him more than ever, you lean against him as close as you can get. He relaxes, still idly paying attention to the chatter around the table. The goal was to distract him, not for him to distract you.
Armand + hands in his pockets
fandom etiquette as a whole died when people who didn’t grow up on fandoms became stans during lockdown, yes, but why am i seeing people openly mocking fics on twitter. why am i seeing screenshots of fics with captions like “bro what is this 😭.” why am i seeing people mock fic writers for not knowing how sports or theater or college or any other organization operates in the real world.
“college is absolutely nothing like this” “why are we writing four people on the team scoring a hat trick in one game” “so tech work is nothing like this, hope that helps!”
if you don’t like a fic, and if you can’t suspend your belief enough to enjoy a fic that exaggerates or ignores real-world orgs, you don’t have to read it. you don’t have to screenshot it and put it on blast for twitter. you don’t have to post a link to it in the replies. the back button is literally there on your phone. it’s not giving baby’s first fandom anymore, it’s giving entitled asshole and it isn’t as cute as you think it is.
jack o'connell wearing the vampire fangs to the oscars is something that iwtv cast (especially samstat) need to start doing NOW
Today fucking SUCKED heres Eric turning you into a vampire because you just cant anymore. Heavily inspired by the few moments in the series where Eric loses his composure.
I guess cw for death. And then reanimation. I dont really know what compelled me to write this one.
“Hurry up, fuckin fangbanger.”
That was the last nasty, bigoted comment you could handle tonight, let alone ever. You toss your towel across the bar, Sam catching it barely. Your hands are busy untying your apron when he circles the counter. “Whoa- whoa- what are you doin’?”
“Sick and tired of people. I cant do this shit anymore I quit!” You turn to him; guilt settles in your chest and weighs your shoulders down. This wasn’t his fault. Several nights of nitpicking and namecalling had worn you down. Not to mention the fight you had with Arlene. She really didnt know how to keep her mouth shut.
“You cant just- you’re the only other one on tables,” Sam is following you, picking up after you but you’re already gone.
promoting this again because its a good read and im proud of it
The vampire Armand, doting after his first and only creation.
Sfw. maybe a little ooc. I havent written something for armand in…. Idek.
This is from a prompt L requested about makers checking in on their baby vampires fangs!
His presence was always a balm to you. He made sure of it. You deserved nothing less.
His child- his creation. The only person in this world he wanted to preserve when it fell away. He had walked a lonely road for some time- met vampires of all ages and experience. What he had found was.. abused vampires handcrafted more abuse, starting with their children.
He could be different. He could break the wheel. It started with you, now. It started with love.
You turn before he gets the chance to announce his presence. Your eyes soften fractionally when his figure comes into view in the warm lighting.
“How are you faring?” He inquires. “Has the sickness passed?”
Armand gives you a once over with his eyes. Not too sickly, not too malnourished. Your eyes have yet to fully change over. One of them was a vibrant hue, the other remained rather human. He smiles fondly at your strange case of heterochromia.
“Im hungry,” you reply, the pit in your stomach seemingly endless.
“As all vampires are, my love. It’s a sickness that starves.” He slowly makes his way to you. He greets you with a kiss to the cheek. “I will bring something home to you when the sun is done setting.”
“Or someone,” you joke. He stifles a laugh.
“Or someone.”
Comfortable silence fills the space between you. You find yourself fixing the collar of his shirt.. it was a strange texture. Suede on the torso, the sleeves a vertically ribbed fabric. A silver zipper- youre not sure how he wasn’t burning. Perhaps an undershirt. Despite the slight sting you unzip it partway to peek.
His hand flies to yours to capture it. “Ah-ah. What are we doing?” He accuses in a taunting manner.
“You’re wearing a weird shirt.” You respond, distracted by its not-quite-teal, not-quite-green color. Emerald? No…
He notices your fangs when you speak. They rest strangely on your bottom lip.
“Look up for me?” He requests, wanting to get a better look.
“Huh?” You ask and begin to lift your head. He rests a finger under. Your chin. Even with your mouth resting he can see the little pinpricks of your canines.
“Your fangs, my love. What happened here?” He’s never seen anything like it. You frown.
“Whats wrong with them?” You bare your teeth to show them off and he cant help but crack an endearing smile.
“They look fake.” He cant resist laughing. “Like the plastic kind humans wear for costumes.”
“Dont say that!” You cover your mouth with one of your hands, no longer focused on his clothes. “Youre just saying that because I called your shirt weird.” You protest.
“No, my love- its not a bad thing.” He promises, trying to move your hand. “You’ve just got scraggly fangs. Like a cat. Its not bad!”
“Yes it is. Everyone is gonna know Im a vampire.”
“It will get better,” he reassures you, even if he doesn’t truly know.
You shake your head.
“Yes it will.” He doubles down. “Its cute. It is.”
“Armand,” you give him a serious glance and he doesnt budge on his opinion.
“Give me a kiss,” he asks. You cant resist that. Fine, one kiss.
“I love you.” He reminds you.
“Even if-“
“Armaaaand!”
“No, listen- even if your fangs take up half of your mouth.” He leans to pepper one more kiss to your nose. You turn your head and he misses, getting your cheek. Then the corner of your lips.
“Sto-o-op!” You’re laughing now.
“See? Look at that smile.” He points out. “Beautiful.”
You groan. Hes so sappy sometimes.
“I know.. I know,” you retort. “You tell me all the time.”
He drapes himself over you, trying to smother you in a hug. “You deserve to hear it until you loathe me.” He insists.
I found out where the ask went. It got scheduled for the next day why does tumblr just make up shortcut buttons
Okay so idk where the ask went. I guess but L this is for you!!
Becoming a vampire was a massive learning curve, Eric wanted to make sure everything was going as planned— especially since you were.. going through it more than any young vampire he had ever raised.
Sfw. not suggestive but he’s got his fingers all up in the readers mouth to check out their fangs. A little scolding, a little banter.. all the good stuff.
“What are you doing?”
You look up from your.. second body of the night, wiping your mouth lazily with the back of your hand.
“Eating.” You reply vaguely to him. Its not like you needed to explain it, he had eyes.
“Two humans in an hour? You’re not that young.” He pushes off the doorframe. You were starting to get tired of him checking in on you like this. “You shouldn’t need this much blood 6 months old.”
“Can you just let me hunt? Im hungry.” You sass him as he crouches to where you are on the floor.
“How are you drawing the blood? Show me.”
“What?” You ask; hes being ridiculous. “Theres not more than one way, eric. You just bite it.” You demonstrate, taking another stab at the limp human.
Eric’s brow furrows, his eyes focused on the other shallow bite marks you left. “You do not just bite it. You have to pierce the veins- and you have to draw it, dont just let it seep.”
You glare at him and he glares right back. He was well equipped at this point to handle sassy, know-it-all baby vampires after pam and willa, and then tara. Now you.
“Something isnt right. Come here.” He requests, taking your face into his hands when you sit up again. “Go ‘aah,’”
“What is this, the dentist? Im fine.” You protest. Hes treating you like a baby.
“Like this,” his lips part. Long, sharp fangs jut out with a click. You mimic him. He blinks, confused.
“No.”
“….’mno?” You ask, mouth still open. He uses his hands to push your top lip up to get a better look. Your mind starts to wander as he does.
“Theyre.. half developed,” he explains. “Not as long as they should be. No wonder you’re struggling to eat.”
Offended, you jerk your head to the side.
“No- stay still. As your maker I command you to stop moving. Stay.”
You try to pull your head back and he sticks his thumb over your lower teeth, the pad resting on your tongue. Okay… hot.
There was nothing you could do to stop him, forced to sit still. You try to relax but his stare is making it hard. What could he possibly be looking at now?
“Focus, just… can you retract them and try again?” He asks.
You follow his instructions and… no new results. His eyes go back to the body between you, then the floor as if he’s planning. You close your lips around his thumb, choosing to try and gain his attention. It works, briefly.
“Stop that. This is serious, you cant bleed out the entire shreveport population eating two humans a night.”
Oh, so he wasnt in the mood. Lame. You grab his wrist to take his fingers out of your mouth. “Its not my fault you made me like this.”
He grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks so your lips press together in a pout. “You’re really fucking irritating.” He comments back, pressing a very chaste kiss to your forehead. “I almost died making you.”
He releases you and grabs the limp arm of your catch. His fangs make a clean puncture on the wrist, the blood beginning to pool.
“I wonder where I get it from.” You jest. He rolls his eyes, moving on.
“Because your fangs are short you’re not piercing the veins. Its making the bleed thin. Here,”
Your pupils dilate and you practically dive on the spot, instincts crying for sustenance. He seems pleased with himself. “Thats better. We need to find some kind of temporary fix for you. You need help hunting.”
“I do not,” you reply, blood dribbling from the corner of your mouth. You appeared all the part like a lion kit to him. Tiny and eager to prove yourself but.. not ready to be a predator just yet.
“Im going to help you.”
“No youre not. Ill just bite harder.”
“Honey,” he doesnt wanna argue. “I understand you think you’re capable but just until they finish growing?”
You turn away from him, ignoring his compromise as you keep feeding.
“You’re impossible.” He stands, wiping his bloody hands on his clothes.
“Love you too.”
and what if I wrote for more non-vampires. Would the fans hate that
Valentines day with Lestat. Sfw, something sweet for once. Kind of an unfinished drabble? I didnt know where to end it.
Patiently you wait outside his manor door. The sun had gone down just enough for him to answer, you figured, glancing over your shoulder at the orange and pink hues of the sky.
Your arms were growing tired. Tucked in one was a bouquet of flowers— admittedly roses, though they werent your first choice at the market. In the other, two board game boxes and a small bag of game tiles. It was bananagrams at one point, but you had lost the bag.
Carefully you knock a second time, not wanting to drop anything and make a fool of yourself. Lestat was so ecstatic to see you; he could’ve shaken the house with how hard he swung the door open.
He leans towards you, those bright eyes of his sparkling with interest. He was always the gift giver, always the one making up grand gestures of love. “this is for me?” Is the first thing he thinks of.
“Happy valentines day!” You cheer, shifting the bouquet to hand it to him.
He takes your generous offer… and your board games, seeing as you were holding too much.
“What is this?” He asks, distracted by the bag of tiles. “Scrabble without the board?”
Lestat was… still curious when it came to modern things. Sure he had an okay grasp but, living as long as he did almost everything new was a wonder.
“No,” you move inside as he steps back. “Its bananagrams.”
“What a stupid name. What does banana have to do with it.”
“Well,” you begin. “It comes in a banana, usually. Like.. a bag, but I dont know where I put it.”
“So what do you do if it has no board?” He sets the other games down on the coffee table in his living room.
“If you give me a second maybe we can spend the evening playing. Ill teach you.”
“Oh, you know Im going to win,” he sparks with that competitive nature. “And what else— trouble, you know I dont like trouble.” He identifies the last board game but doesnt say anything.
“I have to win at something.” You argue playfully. He smiles, returning to you with arms open. You gladly hug him.
“Competitive even on a holiday about love,” he comments, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Fitting…”
You look up at him, matching his energy. “Ill have you flipping the table and cursing me in french by the end of the night.”
“Will you?” He asks, caressing your face with one hand. “I think… we should have some wine, relax, try this….”
He gestures to the bag. “Scrabble, and then whoever wins gets to decide what we do after.”
You like the sound of that. “What do I get if I win?”
“… whatever you please, love.” He promises.
“And you want….?”
He brings his hands down to your hips, slowly. “You know what I wager,” he replies in a soft tone. You roll your eyes.
“You can make love to me without making it a prize,” you step out of his hold, grabbing the game and moving to the large dining room table. “Pick something else.
“But it’s all I want, little bird,” he comes up behind you, tilting his head. “Nothing else will do.”
-
You stand up, both hands coming down on the table as you stare at the tiles in shock.
“Zinzolin is NOT a word.” You argue.
“It is!” He exclaims. “It is, it is!”
“What does it mean then, huh? Huh!” You walk over to where he’s sitting. He’s laughing, reaching for you as you shake him a little.
You both have had too much to drink.
“Its a color,” he lazily smiles, laughing so much his eyes are wet. “A color between blue and purple.”
“Thats VIOLET!” You exclaim.
“It is not, its different!” He insists.
“Youre cheating because youre a million years old.” You sit in his lap. “Thats it, I win by default.”
“Non,” he pecks your lips. “You cannot decide that, turn around and keep playing.”
“You just played a word that totally isnt a word with two zs.” You pout. “I am not playing against you, you have an advantage.”
“Who is fussing about losing now? Here you said it would be me.”
You kiss him again to shut him up. It turns into a hair grabbing, biting, laughter between kisses kind of makeout. It appears winning or losing, Lestat was going to get what he wanted.
You leave Eric and Bill alone with each other for not even five minutes, and find out pretty quickly that Eric doesnt like to share. Sfw
Just a scene from a different fic that got scrapped. Not a lot of romance, established relationship.
Two bottles of Tru Blood slide across the glass counter with a crisp sound. You grab each bottle by the neck, barely making eye contact with the concerned gas station clerk.
“Enjoy?” They say, more like a question. What they didnt know was you had two rather impatient vampires pacing around outside, both hungry and tired. You had been feeding them both out of necessity, but it was starting to take a toll. Tonight they would have to suck it up. Even if the blood was cold. You wouldve made them come get it if it werent for the stupid rule of asking permission to come inside.
When the automatic doors open, Eric and Bill are gone. Seriously? You turn your back for a minute and they run off like rowdy toddlers.
“Eric!” You call on him, exasperated. A booming metallic noise clatters in the alleyway down the street. You hear hissing like two cats fighting.
This cant be real. With a huff you set down the bottles under the nearest streetlamp. Nobody was going to come take them anyway, who cares. This needed to be taken care of first.
Just as you expected, bill was hanging in the air, pressed up against the dirty brick of the gas station. Eric had him by the collar. There was a visible dent in the dumpster to his left. Bill was panting, fangs bared, lip split. You knew immediately who instigated it.
You cross your arms waiting for him to notice. Bill sees you first, his eyes softening as if you were his hail mary.
Eric follows his line of sight, dropping Bill like a piece of roadkill when he realizes youve come back. His gaze is intense. Eric’s shoulders slump as he leans in to kiss you as a greeting.
“Uh-uh.” You scold, rearing your head back and putting a hand out. “What the fuck are you two doing?”
“He wants to keep sharing you.” Eric accuses.
“For the sake of the mission!” Bill explains, worn down. “If we stop for tru blood every time we get hungry we will double the travel time.”
“Bullshit,” Eric hisses, turning defensively to glare at Bill. “I shouldve let you starve. Whats wrong, Compton? I thought you preferred Tru Blood? You get one taste of quality blood and now you think you deserve them?”
“You and I both know it doesnt replenish our strength nearly as well.”
You sigh. Eric is postured up as if he needed to make himself any bigger.
“Bill’s right.” You concede. Eric smiles but it doesnt reach his eyes.
“Of course! Of course he is.” He zips over to throw Bill around some more, but Bill has recovered some strength. They scrap at a nearly imperceptible speed.
“Boys!” You shout. They both stop, mid-grappling each other.
“I understand youre hungry and tired. I know you hate each other. But for the next two nights could you please just… agree to disagree and suck it up? At the end of the day I’m still Eric’s human. Sorry, Bill.” You explain. Bill doesnt seem offended, only furthering your instincts telling you Eric was just being posessive.
“Fine.” Eric stands, dusting off his hands. Petty, he kicks Bill one last time before sauntering over to you like nothing happened. Bill coughs, pushing himself up by his palms.
You walk faster to get away from Eric. Grabbing the tru blood where you left it. You twirl around and shove it at him.
Eric gives you that expressionless, intense stare. “Im not drinking this, I want you.”
“Bill has to do it, so will you.”
Eric encroaches on your space again. Sometimes you swear he’s no better than a bad little kid. You hold your ground against his silent tantrum.
“Youre mine.” He says, as if you werent aware.
“And im bloodless, and im not happy with you.” You reply sternly.
Eric backs up, cracking open the bottle. Bill has finally caught up, gladly taking his.
“Thanks,”
Awkward silence fills between you. Eric keeps looking at you like he’s trying to read your mind. Bill can see the ‘are you mad at me’ written all over his face.
“… thanks.” Eric echoes Bill, but his tone is soaked in sarcasm.
This was going to be a long trip.
twu bwud 🩸
my favorite Eric thing is that he likes women, not just sexually, he just prefers hanging out with women. I think a big part of this comes from a fairly silly place of looking down on 'men who aren't Godric and by the transitive property, me, the closest to Godric' but he's really just not having it with men most of the time. a man is talking and Eric is rolling his eyes. where's pam. where's nora where's sookie.
