#dizzy day

[quicksilverdaisyday]

scott pilgrim oc posting. here’s Dusty (left, he/him) and Dizzy (she/her). they’re twins :)

they’re both part of their own bands- dusty’s is a shitty, unnamed band that can’t decide what they want their sound to be, and dizzy is the frontwoman for a moderately popular rock girl group.

dusty’s got the hots for stephen stills and dizzy’s got some crazy rivalry yuri going on with envy adams

[needleworkreve]

My vertigo is acting up today something fierce. I feel like I'm on a 30 degree angle and listing to the left. I'm afraid to get out of bed; it feels like a life raft to me.

[ballpitwitch]

𝐊𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐮 𝐑𝐞𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐑𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐭𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐂𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐍𝐉 - 𝟏𝟎/𝟎𝟖/𝟐𝟑

[runninriot]

written for @steddie-week day 6

Love Drunk

prompt: dizzy, drunken confessions | wc: 2.5k | rated: T | cw: alcohol | tags: platonic stobin, steve has a crush on eddie, pining, jealousy, love confessions, friends to lovers | also on ao3

  "Steeeve, I really don’t think this is a good idea.“ Robin grabs him by the sleeve of his shirt to hold him back.

   "Oh, but it is a great idea, actually! The best idea I ever had!“

Steve has to concentrate hard not to trip over his tongue, to pronounce each word clearly.

He’s drunk. Like, really drunk. Drunk as in - the floor’s moving like he’s standing on a boat rocking on the shore and the world around him is turning too fast.

He knows he’s had too much but that doesn’t keep him from downing another shot.

Steve needs it, needs the courage. Because he has a plan.

   "You’re gonna regret it, Steve. And then I’ll have to listen to you whine and complain and you’re gonna blame me for not holding you back! I can’t let you do this.“

    My sweet Robin.

He’ll thank her later for this. For trying to talk some sense into him. She’s his best friend in the world. And usually, he knows he’s always better off listening to her advice. Because Robin is smart as hell. He’s lucky to have her. She loves him, always has his best interest at heart.

Steve turns around to look at her, can’t fight the urge to boop her on the nose.

   “You’re cute,” he says completely out of context and while he can see the confusion on her blurry face, she still laughs at the notion.

   “Well, you’re not,” she says and Steve pouts.

   “Don’t you love me anymooore?”

    God, Steve sounds like a kid even to his own ears. How pathetic.

He’s always been an emotional drunk.

That’s probably why, when he caught sight of Eddie laughing at something this- this random guy standing too close to him must’ve said, Steve suddenly felt like someone had pulled the rug right from under his feet.

   “You know I do. That’s why I’m telling you not to do anything stupid.” Robin says sternly, seemingly unimpressed by the emotional turmoil raging in his mind.

The thing is, technically, he knows she’s right. Sober Steve would listen to Robin without hesitation. Would let her take him home and comfort him while he pours his heart out to her.

But Drunk Steve?

Drunk Steve is as bold as he is stupid.

Drunk Steve has a mind of his own, steered by a heart that is too loud for any sensible thoughts to come through.

He can’t stop himself from staring, from watching Eddie through the open kitchen door that leads to the other room, where the music is loud and everyone’s having a great time.

Everyone, including Eddie and random guy, who’s touching Eddie’s arm, smiling and batting his lashes at him. He’s flirting with Eddie, undoubtedly. And Eddie clearly doesn’t mind, going by the way he keeps moving closer to the other guy, holding his gaze, reciprocating his touch.

That’s just-

Not okay.

He needs to do something.

Like, right now.

   “’m jus’ gonna talk to him,” Steve announces to Robin without looking at her.

She sighs, and he knows Robin has accepted her defeat when she finally lets go of his arm.

   “Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

He barely catches her last words before making his way over to where Eddie and Rando are standing, careful not to stumble because the floor is uneven. Or maybe there’s something wrong with his feet? Who knows. Doesn’t matter, he’s on a mission.

Slowly and on wobbly legs, he makes his way through the spinning party crowd until he finally reaches his destination.

As if he can sense his presence, Eddie turns around immediately, while the guy next to him is throwing metaphorical daggers at Steve for interrupting their conversation.

   “Steve? Are you okay?” Eddie sounds concerned for some reason but Steve can’t find it in him to question it, not when Eddie holds out a hand and touches his shoulder.

Not when the hand on his arm feels so nice. And keeps him steady. Keeps his body from swaying.

    Why is the floor moving so much?

   “Do you need to sit down?”

Before Steve can wonder why Eddie would ask him that, he’s losing his balance, feels his knees give out and then all of a sudden, everything goes dark.

   “There you are.”

Steve blinks his eyes open, tries to focus his vision on the figure looming above him.

There’s something cold and damp on his forehead and a warm hand caressing his cheek.

   “Wha’ happened?” Steve’s voice is hoarse and his mouth is dry and there’s a nasty aftertaste of tequila on his tongue.

    Ugh.

Steve tries to push himself up from where he’s lying on... a bed? But he fails, feels dizzy, and slumps right back down.

   “Careful, Stevie. Don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

It is only now Steve realises who is talking to him. Who is sitting beside him at the edge of the bed with a hand pressed to the washcloth on his forehead to keep it in place.

   “Eddie?”

    Oh fuck.

Robin will never let him live that down.

   “The one and only,” Eddie smiles and although Steve feels like absolute shit, he can’t help but return the gesture.

   “Where are we?”

The room is only dimly lit by a bedside lamp, with the door closed and the curtains pulled shut. Steve can hear the music coming from the party still going on downstairs.

   “Linda allowed me to take you to her room after that little stunt you pulled.”

Eddie must sense his confusion because before Steve can ask what he means, he continues.

   “You blacked out. Kinda fell right into my arms,” he chuckles. “I caught you before you went down and brought you up here. I asked Jeremy to find Robin and tell her what happened but I guess he... was a bit mad at me for leaving.”

    Oh god.

Steve remembers now.

Jeremy must be the guy Eddie was talking to.

He can’t blame him for being pissed, though he’s probably not mad at Eddie but rather at Steve for interrupting their little- whatever it was.

   “Sorry for ruining your date,” Steve says quietly, shame creeping up inside.

It’s what he wanted, isn’t it? That was his plan.

Not to faint! But to disrupt whatever flirting game random guy, Jeremy, thought he had going on. But now that he’s slowly coming to his senses, he can’t help but to feel guilty for it.

   “Ah, it’s fine. He’ll live.”

Eddie grins, doesn’t sound mad at all which is good but the fact that he didn’t deny that it was, in fact, a date, makes Steve’s stomach turn into knots.

Because while he’s definitely still drunk, Sober Steve is slowly trying to force his way into his conscious, crawling through the fog still clinging to his mind. And with that comes the realisation of how stupid his plan was.

If he hadn’t blacked out, he would’ve told Eddie that he-

    Godfuckingdamn, this would’ve ended in a catastrophe.

Eddie doesn’t like Steve like that. They’re friends, nothing more.

And Steve would’ve ruined it all.

He knows he can’t keep his tongue in check when it’s loose from alcohol and still, consciously made the decision to go over the limit anyway.

How could he be so stupid? So recklessly putting their friendship on the line for- what? A rejection?

Steve should’ve listened to Robin. She tried to warn him, tried to save him from embarrassing himself but of course, he didn’t listen.

Now Eddie is sitting here next to him in depressing silence instead of being with-

   “You should go looking for him.”

   “For who?”

   “Jeremy? I’m fine now. Thanks for looking after me.”

Eddie’s hand slips away from Steve’s forehead and there’s a change in his expression that Steve doesn’t know how to read. He looks... disappointed? Kind of hurt in a way, and Steve doesn’t know why.

   “I’ll go looking for Robin and ask her to take me home. Wouldn’t want to waste any more of your precious time than I already have.”

The words feel like acid on his tongue because they’re lies. He’d want nothing more than to stay here with Eddie a little while longer. Hell, he’d spend the whole night alone with Eddie if he could.

But he can’t because it wouldn’t be fair to keep Eddie to himself when he could be out there having a good time.

Doesn’t matter that it hurts like a bitch to imagine Eddie going home with that guy at the end of the night.

To imagine someone else’s hands on his body, someone else’s lips on his mouth.

To imagine someone else getting to have all these things Steve would die for.

   “You’re not wasting my time, Steve. Never. I love spending time with you.”

Eddie smiles again, nervously rubbing the back of his neck and it’s way too much for Steve’s weak little heart to handle.

   “You can’t say things like that, Eds.” Steve says because he needs Eddie to stop making his heart flutter.

   “Why not?”

   “Because I might take advantage of it.”

    What the fuck? Shut your mouth before you say something even more stupid.

Steve finally manages to sit up, head still feeling heavy but at least the wooziness is gone.

With his new seating position, Eddie is suddenly so much closer than before.

They’re sitting next to each other, arms and legs touching, and Steve has to force himself not to lean into the warmth radiating off Eddie’s body.

   “I wouldn’t mind.” Eddie says while he fumbles with his rings, eyes focused on his own hands.

It’s like he purposely avoids looking at Steve.

   “Oh, you would,” Steve insists. “Because I’d want too much.”

Eddie looks back up, tilts his head to the side.

   “What do you mean?”

Steve feels sick.

Not from the booze but from the violent fluttering sensation in his gut – he’s worried he’ll throw up butterflies if he opens his mouth.

   “I-“

He feels dizzy again, this time for reasons he’s not willing to confess.

Eddie’s gaze is piercing. It’s like he is trying to look right through him, searching for the truth that’s locked away in Steve’s heart. Barely held back from pouring out, thrashing behind bars that slowly crack and crumble as Steve loses himself in Eddie’s eyes.

His emotions swim in a sea of tequila and beer. He feels light-headed and the room is spinning again but this time, it’s because Steve feels drunk on Eddie.

   “I have a big, fat crush on you.”

It’s out. Just like that. And nothing bad happens. The world still revolves around the sun, people downstairs are still having fun, and Eddie doesn’t tell him to fuck off.

Instead, Eddie takes his face in both hands and looks him deep in the eyes.

   “Is this drunk you talking? Or do you mean it?”

Steve allows himself to lean into the warmth of Eddie’s palm, and smiles.

   “Both? I mean it. But I wouldn’t have told you if I hadn’t drowned my last functioning brain cells in Tequila,” Steve says honestly and his heart makes a funny thing when Eddie snorts at his words.

   “You’re lucky you’re cute, Stevie. I can’t believe Robin let you off the leash like that.”

   “Hey!” Steve protests with a light push to Eddie’s chest, absently lets his hand linger where he can feel Eddie’s heart beat hard and fast beneath his palm.

   “Just for your information, she did tell me it was a bad idea. But I saw you with that guy and-“

    Oops.

That’s not what he wanted to say.

   “Oooh, so you got drunk because you were jealous, huh?” Eddie wags his brows and it looks so dorky, Steve can’t help but laugh.

   “No! Okay maybe. But-“

Steve only now realises that Eddie’s hands are still cupping his face. That Eddie hasn’t pulled away; he’s still touching him, still so close there’s barely any room between them. This is too close. And although it feels good, Steve knows it isn’t right.

   “Listen, Eddie. I know that this isn’t mutual. And I guess- well, I hope this doesn’t make it awkward between us? I like you, Eddie. A lot. And I- I hope we can still be friends, des-“

  “Woah, hold on, Stevie!”

Suddenly, Eddie’s expression turns serious and Steve feels like his heart stops as he holds his breath, waiting for whatever comes next.

   “Before you jump to conclusions, I gotta confess something, too. I might also have a big, fat, stupid crush on you.”

Eddie’s hands move to the back of Steve’s neck, fingers curling into his hair in this kind of gentle but demanding way that makes Steve shiver.

   “I just didn’t think I’d have a chance.“

He moves closer, so close their noses are touching. Steve’s heart does that thing again, flips and kicks and he can feel Eddie’s do the same.

It makes him feel bold.

   “Can I kiss you?”

Steve wouldn’t even be mad if Eddie said no. He probably smells like a distillery and he looks like shit and his mouth is so dry because-

    God, why did I drink so much?

   “Only if I can kiss you, too.”

Eddie doesn’t wait for a response, just closes the remaining distance between their lips, tentatively and almost shy. But the way he digs his fingers deeper into Steve’s hair and pulls shows a desperation that matches Steve’s own.

Steve, who clings to Eddie with both arms wrapped tight around him, kissing him, touching him, losing himself in the moment.

He’s breathless when they part.

   “You good?” Eddie asks, eyes searching for any sign of discomfort in Steve’s.

   “Perfect,” Steve lies, doesn’t want Eddie to stop on his behalf, wants to keep kissing him.

   “You’re a bad liar, Stevie. You look tired.”

Eddie’s right. Steve should go home, drink a gallon of water and go to sleep, let the buzz wear off and-

   “Will this still be real tomorrow?”

    Please, let it be real.

Eddie presses another kiss to his lips before he nods.

   “I’m yours if you want me.”

   “Want you.”

   “Come on, then. Let’s get you home.”

   “Are you coming home with me?” Steve asks, sounding a little more hopeful that he’d want to admit.

   “Just for tonight, let’s pretend I’m a gentleman, okay? I don’t want Robin to kill me before I have the chance to tell her.”

   “Tell her what?”

   “That I’m in love with her best friend.”

Steve will have the worst hangover tomorrow, he’s sure.

And Robin will have a lot to say about all of it.

But to hear Eddie say those words makes it all worth it.

   “What about Jeremy?” Steve’s being a teasing little shit now, he knows he is, can’t help himself.

   “I think his name was actually Jeffrey, or Jackson? I don’t really know him. He just wanted to talk to me about my band, saw us play a few weeks back.” Eddie grins, has this knowing look in his eyes that sends a hot rush to Steve’s cheeks.

   “Oh you bastard!” Steve huffs, feels stupid for falling for something like that. “I can't believe you let me think you two had something going on. That’s so mean!”

They both laugh.

   “Well, it worked, didn’t it?” Eddie smirks and Steve can’t not kiss him.

   “I hate you,” Steve says through a smile and Eddie answers with his own.

   “I know, I love you, too.”

[malacandrax]

A continuation of this <3

[malama-art]

when the loids are vocal

[gio-goose]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE MOST SPECIALEST AWESOMESAUCE OUTSTANDING WONDEROUS BOY EVER!!! SIN KISKE MY BELOBED,!!!

[deductivisms]

dribble in strive?!

[the0retically]

Chip with extreme vertigo from growing up on a ship and having his sea legs be the normal instead of walking on steady ground. He needs the constant rocking of the waves in order to match the persistent dizziness

He’s always tripping and falling over himself but on the sea the waves always seem to rock the boat perfectly so he can catch himself, however on land there’s none of that and it becomes increasingly apparent the more time they spend off the boat that it’s not just him slowly adjusting to being on land again but that there’s something wrong

Just Chip with vertigo but being out of the sea helps him

[rillils]

my brain: the helicarrier scene from catws is a cinematic masterpiece, it's serious and tragic and emotionally charged, heavy with meaning and symbolism, and it constitutes a truly pivotal moment in both characters' arcs. don't ruin it.

also my brain:

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddie-week.

Not Enough to Not Know Better

Day #6 - Prompt: Dizzy/Drunken Confessions | Word Count: 1189 | Rating: E | CW: Sex, Language, Alcohol | POV: Eddie | Tags: Friends to Lovers, Drunken Confessions, Steve's Gonna Make This Happen For Them, Clothed Sex

"Is the room spinning, or just my brain?"

Eddie lulls his head to the side, trying to keep his eyes open as he looks at Steve, who is all but passed out on the couch. Sprawled out, comfortable, and for some reason, now missing his shirt. 

Eddie allows his gaze to linger, taking in Steve's stomach, and especially the thick thatch of chest hair creeping all the way up towards his neck. It's gorgeous, and lush, just like the hair on Steve's head. Eddie wants to run his fingers through both. Wants to pull, stroke, lick.  

When it peeks out of his collar, sometimes Eddie fears that he'll do something stupid without thinking it through. 

"I think we're stationary," Eddie says, and Steve giggles like he's said the funniest bit of a stand-up routine. The best punchline, saved for last. But, it wasn't that funny, Steve's just drunk. Eddie knows that. Is absolutely sure of it.

"Stationary. Station. Airy," Steve mumbles, still laughing to himself. 

"You're drunk, Harrington," Eddie says, not totally sure that he isn't right behind Steve on that. 

"A little bit," Steve answers, moving to roll over onto his stomach, and it's the most awkward maneuver Eddie's ever seen anyone, or anything, ever make. 

Steve finally gets settled in, wallering a spot into the couch, and Eddie hopes he doesn't suffocate with his face pressed into the cushion like it is. Finally Steve turns his head, laying his cheek on the upholstery.

His flushed cheek. Probably from the alcohol, or maybe he just got a little sun outside today. Usually Steve's tans right up, though. It's Eddie that has to worry about becoming a lobster.

Eddie looks at him. At Steve's chest, arms, back. It's all golden, and covered in freckles and moles that Eddie would love to count, to map.

Bite.

Eddie just takes in his body, looking down, down, down. Trying not to linger on the place where his jeans have ridden down, just a little. As tight as Steve wears them, that seems impossible, but he's seeing the waistband of Steve's underwear. Briefs, he thinks, not boxers.

His eyes are roaming too hard, and he needs to get himself under control. He starts to move them away, when Steve rolls his hips, keeping his attention. Grinding right against the fabric of the couch, and now Eddie can't look away. No way in hell, not as Steve rolls his hips in a slow, deliberate grind. 

Eddie reaches down to adjust himself in his own jeans, and Steve meets his eyes. Eddie knows he's been caught, but Steve started this first. Eddie's just fighting horny with horny. He can't be blamed. Not for this.

"Sometimes," Steve says, just above a whisper, eyes still locked on Eddie's, "sometimes I do this and think about you."

"Jesus H. Christ, Harrington. How drunk are you?"

"Enough to not care what I'm saying. Not enough to not know better," Steve says, smiling. It's lazy, and beautiful. 

"You've lost your mind," Eddie whispers, maybe just as much to himself as to Steve, but he shifts his hand, covers his own now-hard dick, and grinds against the heel of his hand.

"Maybe," Steve says, hips still moving, still chasing that little bit of death, "but it's still true."

"Goddamn," Eddie whines under his breath, and Steve keeps moving, keeps grinding, keeps looking right into his eyes, except for when he's flicking glances down towards Eddie's hand. Towards his dick.

Eddie wishes Steve was grinding on him that way. Maybe he would. If Eddie could only bring himself to ask.

Steve beats him to the punch.

"Show me. Let me see," Steve says, "I want to. It's all I think about. You. Me. Us."

That's almost enough for it to all be over before it even gets started. There's not an us, not that Eddie is aware of anyway, and only in his wildest fucking dreams, could that ever be true.

And right now. Apparently.

Eddie leans back, sprawling out on the floor, and keeps working his cock through his jeans. Now he can't see Steve, but he can feel his eyes. The heat from them.

"Well, c'mere if you're coming," Eddie says, and he hears the couch move, shift.

Eddie kicks his legs out wider, and Steve crawls on top of him, laying down, slotting himself between Eddie's thighs. Pressing flush against him. Grinding against Eddie, now. Not the couch.

It's better. It's so much better.

Eddie runs his hands up and down Steve's bare back, finally getting to touch all that warm skin he's fantasized about.

"Goddamn, Harrington," Eddie breathes out, pressing upwards against Steve, hard cock against hard cock, and even through his jeans it's the best thing he's ever felt. Steve Harrington can dry hump him any fucking day of the week and twice on Sunday. Eddie doesn't even need to see anything.

He wants to see, obviously, but this would be a god's plenty. He grabs at Steve's jean-clad ass, and pulls their bodies closer and closer together. 

He's gonna come. 

And he hopes Steve will, too.

Steve shifts, and Eddie hopes this isn't over, and it's not. Steve just shoves upwards, hard, catching Eddie's lips with his own. Sliding his tongue right into Eddie's mouth, and he tastes like beer, and pizza, and fucking heaven. Eddie doesn't care. Beer, onion, garlic, whatever. Bring it on.

Steve keeps rolling, and shifting, and grinding and Eddie wishes they were full-on fucking, because he feels like he's getting a pretty fucking awesome preview to what that might look like. He's memorizing Steve's movements, how fluid they are, how fucking hot. 

Top, bottom, Eddie doesn't care. He's versatile, open to anything, so long as they get to do this together, do everything. He wants Steve, and now he thinks he might get to have him.

Steve hitches, his breath, his body, and then lets out a groan that will live in Eddie's bones for the rest of his days, as he comes in his jeans, on top of Eddie.

Eddie follows, clutching at Steve's ass, holding them together, coming. Steve's breathing into Eddie's open mouth in short, desperate bursts as he tries to come back to himself from this.

Eddie gets that. He definitely gets that. 

He feels wrung out.

Then Steve laughs.

Giggles, really, flopping down on Eddie, making the mess worse for the both of them, surely, but Eddie doesn't let go. He wraps his arms around Steve's back, squeezing him, holding him close, for as long as Steve will allow it. 

Eventually, Steve pushes himself upwards, and off Eddie. Standing, and offering Eddie both of his hands, pulling him to his feet.

"I need a shower. You wanna take a shower with me?" Steve asks, yanking Eddie right into his chest, catching him. He no longer looks as drunken and unsteady as he did.

Maybe Steve was drunk on horniness as much, if not more so, than on the actual alcohol. Either way, Eddie just nods. 

Because, yes. Yes, he'd like to do that very much. 

Steve winks, and grabs Eddie's hand, tugging him towards the staircase.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddie-week and follow along with the fun!

[daily-ethoslab]

[768]

[timogsilangan]

help a third worlder afford a doctor visit (designs for sale+limited furry comms available)

hey guys i have an appointment with my doctor tomorrow coz of issues with weaning off one of my meds (i am having Quite A Time ! physically and mentally) and i need help paying for it. i'll be able to pay for it tonight with some help from my parents but i'd like to make up for the missing cash coz we're basically out of savings (i had to take all 10 thousand pesos out of my savings to pay for our house back in april) and i'd like to make the money back. the price for tomorrow is 1785 php with my legal pwd (person with disability) discount which comes out to almost exactly 30 usd. if you're a furry and a fan of paleontology i have these designs available for sale

(12 usd each for the anthro pterosaurs, 17 usd for the mango dimorphodon, 8 usd for the hornbill quetzalcoatlus)

EDIT: fruity geosternbergia, toxic quetzalcoatlus, and seafoam hatzegopteryx are now CLOSED!

i also have 2 slots open for one of these 500x500 12 usd flat color floating icons if you'd like something custom instead

EDIT: all icon slots now CLOSED!

please dm me if you're interested in the designs or comms!!!

i also have a kofi >>here<< (with some bases available in the shop!) if you're feeling generous and have the means to help me out. please do not feel pressured to contribute if you are not financially stable. i know a lot of us are struggling! thank you!!!

[claudiadpdl]

imagine consuming a piece of media like iwtv and boiling it down to "the abuse show" and telling people they should kill themselves for caring about the romance of it (which is a fundamental part alongside the grieving and healing from the unavoidable loss of your child). i honestly do not know how someone could watch two entire seasons (assuming the books weren't read because there's no way you'd say something like that otherwise) and come away with that specific opinion. watching a fucked up show about fucked up people and an exploration of said fucked up-ness with this exhausting mindset of 'ethical correctness' only hurts you in the long run. and beyond that? media literacy needs to be a mandated class in grade school.

[champion-of-love]

omake from my fic (for the faint of hearts)

daring, annoyed and entering his and hopper's room after classes ended: why did you tell cupid and briar that i asked lizzie out because of the bet with sparrow?

hopper, whose self-preservation instincts have been sharply honed after hanging out with briar and cupid for the past few months: they knew i had gym with you and sparrow earlier that day and figured i'd know something. sorry dude but they'd waterboard it out of me if i didn't tell them

~flashback~

hopper, holding a tray of coffee in one hand and a box of cupcakes in another as he enters cupid's radio booth with cupid and briar already inside: oh my hex, you guys you will not believe what just happened at the hocus pocus cafe earlier

[chimerathing]

some twitter requests from some time ago