#fic mix

[canisalbus]

Have you drawn Vittorio before? I'd like to see what he looks like pls.

Vittorio's design has given me more trouble than I expected, I'm still not sure if I'm happy with his looks. He's Machete's trusted personal secretary, a small and modest but resourceful and resilient man. I think he's somewhere in his mid 20's.

[mariyekos]

Okay to reblog to help sample size!

[spacedace]

Yall someone on reddit made a list of reverse writing tropes as prompts and I'm losing my damn mind over them:

I want to write something for each and every one of these. I already have ideas for some of them holy shit I love these 🤣

[reedrchards]

PEDRO PASCAL as JOEL MILLER The Last of Us - "Long, Long Time"

[poppy-metal]

MARRIAGE COUNSELING W ART PLEASEEEEEEEE GOD THE DEVASTATION THAT TAKES PLACE ON THAT COUCH

i think about it alot. tashi staying with patrick, her injury never happening. your arts college girlfriend and now you're married and it feels fucking stagnant, your relationship. but neither of you wants to give up. neither of you wants to reveal to the other true feelings.

under the cut because this got long and i have a whole au in my hear around this concept

you're only in counseling because of tashi. because shes still in your lives, her and patrick. and she recommended it to art when they were having one of their 'friend' lunches. and now here you are, because of course art took her advice.

he hasn't said anything, though. despite pleading for this. saying he wanted to save your marriage, that he wanted to love you how you should be loved but he didn't know how.

so here you are, on opposite ends of the couch, with the counselor staring at the empty space between you like that in itself is very telling. you suppose it is, in a way. couples who want to stay together should be unified, shouldn't they? you imagine how it would feel, if art had sat next to you. put an arm around you. squeezed you to his side. would you even be able to relax into him? its been so long since you touched eachother that way.

"so im picking up on some distance here," your therapist says. shes a small woman. almost swallowed by her chair. her glasses are perched on her nose as she gazes imperiously at empty space separating you and art. "not just physical either, though thats rather obviously there. but emotional distance. do either of you wanna comment on that?"

you cut a glance at art, expecting him to speak up since this was his idea - well. tashi's. but he just looks down at his lap, quiet. spins his wedding band around his finger.

you feel an anger so intense it pricks your eyes with tears.

"well, i guess you could start with the fact that coming here wasn't even either of our idea. it was his friends."

and now. here art speaks. his head jerks up and she shoots you an annoyed look. "you don't have to say it like that. you always say it like that. her name is tashi and she is my friend. and it was her suggestion, yeah, but it was a good one."

you look at the therapist - janet. raise your eyebrows in arts direction like, get a load of this guy. your legs cross and you start picking at a stray string from the couch.

"first words of the session and its to talk about another woman."

arts inhale is sharp and you can feel his eyes on you but you dont look at him. you can't. you wont. you're right, anyway. he can try to deny it all he wants but you know - you know what you are to him. you know where all your problems stem. you dont need to be here to make any grand discoveries over a fact you've resigned yourself too.

"i see." janet says. "and art having a relationship with this other woman upsets you."

"everything upsets her." art cuts in, sounding tired. his elbow is braced on the arm of the couch and hes chewing on his thumb in one of his nervous gestures. he always did that, as long as you've known him. he was a nail biter, he'd chew his lips raw, he'd nibble on straws, the ends of his pens. he was either lost in thought or agitated. your guess was the latter. "nothing i do makes her happy."

"is this true? are you unhappy with art?"

your skin feels hot. you shift around in your seat. the attention is all on you, and it feels like you've done something wrong, even though you know its literally janets job to ask questions.

"more like i know I'm not what he wants and that makes me...... really fucking sad."

art knees almost knock against yours as he turns his body to face you, giving you his full attention the first time today. you cant meet his eyes still, so you look at the faded spot on his jeans. light blue, like his eyes. you wonder how hes looking at you. cant make yourself look up to see.

"what." he stops. seems to gather some thoughts. tries again, with a steadier tone. "what are you talking about."

you try not to roll your eyes. your arm flings out limply.

"just that this whole thing is a joke, art." and you let out an exasperated laugh, even though nothing is funny. nothing has been funny or light between you two in a long time. "we're only here because the girl you really wanted to marry, told you to get your fucking shit together. you didn't ask us to come here because you wanted to mend something, you're here to please tashi. because if playing a good husband is a role she wants for you - well, you want to play it right, dont you?"

its quiet after that. in the silence you cant help but think about those early days. when you'd been full of love and light and art seemed to be really happy with you. you'd go on dates to the movies, walk through the park together with your hands swinging between you. laugh together and steal kisses whenever you could. you felt high back then.

it didn't even matter that art had a crush on tashi, because hell, you had one too, at the time. but she'd started dating patrick, and they seemed to mesh well together. they were both so intense and passionate. back then, you'd been alot closer to tashi yourself. patrick too. you remember the way she'd rant about how much she fucking hated him, pacing around your room and calling him every name under the sun. and you'd sit there with eager curiosity, and ask her why she didn't end it then. if he makes you so angry, why stay?

and she'd get this faraway look in her eyes. kind of wistful. kind of sad. kind of happy.

"because he makes me feel fucking alive. hes like a - like a drug or something. i cant quit. its addictive, you know?"

that stuck with you. it still sticks with you. you remember being envious of that kind of passion. youe relationship with art had always been so easy. you dont think you'd ever fought by that point. you loved art. you felt safe with art. but were you addicted to him? if you broke up - would you feel withdrawal symptoms?

sometimes you layed awake at night and thought about starting a fight - breaking up for no reason. just to see if he'd fight for you back, if the missing of eachother would be so intense one of you would cave.

but somehow you knew that wouldn't be the case. thats just not how you and art operated. if you got angry, he wouldn't rise to meet you, he'd back down. if you ended things, he wouldn't chase you, he'd let you go.

patrick and tashi were fire and brimstone and you and art was ice and you were....... dirt. solid. walked upon. dependable and not at all exciting.

when art had proposed to you after college graduation it wasn't spur of the moment as it had been with patrick when he'd swept tashi up with a ring and a elopement to vegas. it was talked about and agreed upon and you knew it was coming.

you still said yes.

"you think," and arts voice has a barely concealed tremble to it that makes you look up, finally. you're shocked to see he looks wounded. so many of his expressions you can count on one hand - and this - this wasn't one of them. his eyes are dark, stormy. "you think i dont care about our marriage beyond what someone else has to say about it? you really think that?"

you hate the sliver of guilt you feel, because its not a crazy thing to feel.

"yeah, i really do."

because well, that's the truth of the matter isn't it? you and your husband stare at eachother. and it feels like you're looking at a stranger. not the man who's freckles you used to kiss. who's fears you knew. who's hands you know every callous of, every divot and fingerprint.

"it seems you two have very different views of how the other views this marriage." janet cuts in, sounding curious. she taps her pen against the open notepad on her lap. "art, would you like to chime in on why you wanted to come here? even at the suggestion of someone else?"

art stares at you for a long moment. his face is unreadable to you. his jaw works before his chest expands on an exhale and he looks away.

"i guess i - i just didn't realize how..... stagnant things had gotten until it was pointed out to me. harshly." he winces, and you wonder exactly what tashi had to say to him. you haven't talked to the other woman for some time. contact fizzling out after your marriage to art. he flicks a glance to you, then away again. "im not the best at being aware of shit going on around me." his hand comes up to rub nervously at his neck. "i guess you could say im good at brushing things under the rug. going through the motions. that sort of thing."

janet nods like this makes sense to her. well, great, you think. you know my husband more than i do.

"you're not a fan of confrontation, are you?"

art actually laughs. a genuine one. one that brings a dimple to his cheek and flashes his teeth. you stare at it, like its an exotic animal, and you wont see it again. quickly you catalog the expression in your memory, so you dont forget what he looks like when hes happy.

"yeah, no." he shakes his head. "but I think thats part of the problem. I've obviously let too much shit get put under the rug and now its so full other people are noticing."

you look down at your hands, lips pressed together. your face burns at the knowledge that tashi and by extension - patrick - know your marriage is in shambles. how embarrassing, to be caught lacking in such a momentous way. to come up short and have your husbands friends know about it. you wonder - does he talk about all the ways you make him miserable with them? does patrick shake his head, say, "she's sucking the life out of you, man." does tashi look at him with pity? like hes some poor abused cat that needs to be let in from the rain?

the rain of your marriage.

the rain of you.

you're the storm. you're the problem. you're not enough. art needs fire. you're not even dirt, you're glass. and you can feel yourself breaking.

"that clearly hit a nerve, my dear." janets voice is soft. soothing. she hands you a tissue and you realize you'd begun to cry. "do you want to explain what you're feeling about what art said?"

"i...."

you dab dab dab at your eyes. sniffle. look around the room, trying to collect your thoughts. they feel like flyaway dandelions. you dont know which of them to grasp.

a warm hand settles over yours in your lap and you startle. its arts hand. warm and calloused and tan, covering yours. the gold glint of his wedding ring winks at you, the engraved words etched into them, "my soft epilogue". a shortened version of your favorite qoute i think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love.

at the time, that's what art was to you. your life before him hadn't been easy. being with art had felt like coming home from a long day and falling into a soft bed. it had felt like being able to land after weeks of being made to fly.

you turned your palm up, so he could slide his fingers between yours. he squeezed your hand.

"i think, i. i think i just think - I'm a failure." your bottom lip wobbles. you look at your enterwoven fingers and it makes you so sad that you haven't done the simple gesture of holding your husbands hand in months. "the two most important people in your life are. are so passionate and loud. and i see. i see how happy they make you - and i cant - i cant b-be that for you. we aren't - im not - you dont need me. im not a limb for you how they are. you could extract yourself from me and be. be happier."

your breath shudders out of you.

"you don't need me." you echo.

you wait for him to pull his hand away. this is more than you thought you'd share. some of it you weren't even aware of till the words were spilling from your lips. but they ring true.

without patrick and tashi art would drown. without you..... he'd float just fine.

"and that's important to you." janet says. a statement not a question. "you want to feel needed by art, and you feel as though you aren't. that his needs are met better with his friends than with you."

you nod slowly.

"baby." the word sends a shock through you. not the word itself but how its said. art calls you baby all the time, in a monotonous kind of way. routine. now he says it softly. with feeling. he lets go of your hand in favor of cupping your cheek, still damp with tears, turning your face to his. he looks pained. "of course i need you. i know i haven't been good at showing it. i just - you shut down - after we got married. you've been like a fucking ghost. like you dont want me to touch you. like i could dissappear for all you care and you'd just carry on. i don't know. but i need you, okay? i. need. you."

both hands cup your face, he makes you stare right into him. the conviction in his voice takes your breath away. theres a fire burning there you've thought long put out.

"obviously we have shit to sort out, and we will. but you've got to. you've got to know that. tashi only pushed me to do this because she how - how desperate i was. that's all."

you inhale deeply. exhale. swallow hard. tears cling to your lashes. you reach a hand up to clutch at one of arts wrists. eyes fluttering automatically when you do. you feel grounded again. less like you might float away.

"okay."

"yeah?"

"yeah...." and you smile. it trembles across your lips. but its there. "we'll sort our shit."

art lets out a relieved breath. kisses your forehead, lingering there. the gesture so tender you get emotional again. you want to crawl into his lap, have him wrap you in his arms. you want to feel held by him, like you used to.

"our time is up." janet sets her pen down. smiles. "but i think that was a wonderful first session. i can see the love between you hasn't faded, and that's more i can say for alot of couples who come to see me. keep your chin up."

[charliemwrites]

Hybrid AU with Ragdoll!Reader and Siberian-mix!Konig

Reader is a rescued cat hybrid that Laswell's sister in law has been taking care of for the last 3 months. When she meets this little ragdoll kitty, so bright and friendly and curious, she immediately thinks of the 141. Hybrids have a lot uses in the government. Sometimes combative, sometimes therapeutic. The 141 could use a companion animal, given the close call Soap recently had and the general trauma the whole squad has.

With the kitty's permission and cooperation, they assess her as a possible therapy placement. She tests so well and so high that Laswell (again, with consent) immediately starts paperwork to place her with the 141 before even bringing it up to Price.

He's a bit skeptical at first. Even without being a combat hybrid, their jobs are high stress, very dangerous, and not very stable. But Laswell convinces him to at least meet Ragdoll.

They do introductions at the sister-in-law's house, where the kitty will be most comfortable. Ragdoll takes one sniff of him and starts purring like a little engine. He's visibly surprised, and Laswell can barely hold back her grin as the kitty climbs into his lap. They spend the rest of the afternoon discussing arrangements while his new hybrid naps because obviously he can't say no now.

Price becomes her primary handler. They move her to his barrack and give her a week to settle in, but she's not a skittish thing by any means. Wants to follow him everywhere, curls up in his bed, meows sadly at the door when he leaves her alone. It becomes clear very quickly that the usual introduction manuals are too slow for her.

Kitty meets Kyle next. Again, instant purrs. She presses her cheek into his palms, then wriggles her way closer to brush up against his cheek. Lets out a little "mrrp!" when he stutters out a pleasantly surprised, "hello there." She nibbles at the brim of his hat and grins when he gently redirects her, chirping at this fun new friend.

Two for two, Price and Kyle decide to introduce her to Simon and Johnny. They let her explore the common room first, get comfortable, and then call the other two in. Kitty watches from behind Price as Simon and Johnny enter.

Johnny is a dog hybrid with Simon as his primary handler. Price has faith that his sergeant will behave well with the new kitty, but he's not sure of what her reaction will be. Johnny's obviously, visibly excited, tail wagging, but Simon gets him to sit and wait while she makes the first move.

It takes absolutely no time at all for her to pad out from behind Price and approach. Simon goes first, offering a hand. But she barely even sniffs him before cuddling up to him, pawing curiously at his mask. He lets her, clicking his tongue when she dislodges it a bit, but then he gently nudges her towards Johnny.

His ears are perked forwards, tail still swishing. Kitty's ears are twitching, eyes big and curious. But her tail is up and curved curiously, not even a little fluffed. She gets in real close to his face, sniffs, then bumps her forehead against his chin. Which is when he loses patience and licks a big stripe up her cheek. She mews indignantly, ears going airplane mode, but thankfully doesn't swat at him.

It literally couldn't go better. She's a perfect fit.

Over the next few months she settles in with them happily, an absolute dream of a hybrid. Not very verbal, at least through human speech, but perfectly communicative and incredibly friendly.

She chirps whenever one of the 141 enters a room, has a different tone for each of them. Purrs if one of them so much as looks at her, all slow blinks and little smiles. Chitters when she sees them running outside through the windows.

Even grooming is relatively easy. She lets them brush out her floofy tail without much fuss, only trying to retreat if they catch a tangle. Readily gives up her hands to trim her claws. Even opens her mouth for them to brush off her fangs after raw meals.

She curls up with Simon on bad days, warm and purring, breathing little puffs of air against his collarbone. Lounges with Kyle after hard missions, nuzzling against him while he pets her soft ears. She spends hours upon hours in Price's office, curled up on his lap while he does paperwork or talks over the phone, kneading biscuits into his stomach.

Her friendship with Johnny is maybe the most surprising. They play wrestle just about every night, rolling around on the rough carpets in the common room and nipping at each others ears. She'll pounce on him, little teeth flashing, but almost always get bodied by his larger stature. The others will let them play until one of them - usually Johnny - gets too excited and makes the other yelp. At that point, Price or Simon will usually scoop one of the hybrids up and tsk at them for getting rough.

She's the 141's precious kitty, sweet and friendly and outgoing. The whole base knows her, though she's never far from one of her boys. And they know what it means if Ragdoll doesn't like someone.

It's rare, which is why it raises neon red flags. The first time is a new recruit that reaches to pet her without introducing himself first. She twists around on him, but usually even that would be recoverable. Except when he keeps trying to touch her, she gets a whiff of him and hisses, scrambling away.

The guy doesn't last long.

It happens again a few weeks later with a nurse meant to be giving her checkup. She gets low to the table, tail poofing up, and growls low in her throat. When the nurse rolls her eyes and tells Price to just hold his hybrid still so they can get things over with, he knows instantly that his little ragdoll was right to react that way.

With that in mind, it's no surprise that no one trusts Philip Graves when he visits their base and she takes an instant dislike to him. He introduces himself correctly, but she still hard reverses away from him, nose scrunched up. Ears back, tail fluffing up, she slips behind Price and glares from around his arm.

Problem is, Graves is used to dog hybrids. He's great with them. Kitties... not so much, even with a manual. Ends his week at the base with a couple of proper bite marks and an itchy scratch on his hand.

Given her reaction, Simon and Johnny aren't too shocked when he betrays them in Las Almas.

When a team from KorTac is scheduled for a joint assignment, the 141 is bracing for a similar reaction. Especially because they have their own cat hybrid - some big mixed breed.

Kyle even suggests keeping Ragdoll inside for initial introductions on the tarmac, but they all know that's not actually viable. Their kitty wouldn't talk to them for the rest of the day if they left her out like that.

So Price double checks that her little bell-collar is on and brings her out to meet the KorTac team.

Their cat hybrid is even bigger than expected - no wonder he's a combat placement despite being a domestic breed. He keeps his face hidden behind a big black hood with cutouts for his ears, fluffy tail slightly tangled-looking.

Price hasn't even finished introductions with the KorTac team when she makes a rolling little chur noise, bright and curious. The bigger hybrid zeros in on her instantly, ears flicking. She pads out from behind the captain and slips away before he can catch her. Any calls for her to come back are fully ignored.

She trots right up to the Austrian and mrrps again, pausing mid-step, waiting for a response. The other hybrid doesn't respond - at least he doesn't seem to.

"Sorry, kitten, but he doesn't really do the cat noises," Declan tries to tell her. But he's also ignored, and no sooner has he spoken than she's getting into the other cat's space, continuously making little "brr" noises.

And then to everyone's shock, he's bending down to greet her in return, nuzzling her cheek and forehead through the hood. She starts to purr, pressing up close, tail swishing lazily. A noise erupts from him, deep and rough, rattling in his chest. Johnny jumps and snatches at her shirt, dragging her back to the safety of their team.

She mewls sadly, arms extended to reach for him.

"He's growling, Doll," Johnny corrects, arms curling around her middle. For the first time ever she starts to wriggle. "He's too big for you to mess with."

"I... wasn't growling," the Austrian pipes up. "I apologizes if I caused alarm."

Johnny shoots him an incredulous look.

"Then what was that?" Kyle asks, confused.

"I don't... often purr."

Price takes one look at their still-wiggly kitty and the Austrian leaning towards her, as if wanting to follow, and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Shit."

[uc1wa]

jason todd who’s a little religious and says he wants to wait for marriage to fill you full with his cock and cum. jason todd whose tongue is lapping at your entrance and his fingers are circling your clit, reminding you that the bible doesn’t say anything about the inability to do this.

[rrogueamendiares]

i just wanted to hold you in my arms

[krysmcscience]

The Lamb is malicious in a funny way and the Goat is funny in a malicious way. No, I will not elaborate.

Anyway, everyone give thanks to the Lamb for interrupting what was sure to be a very boring and patronizing PSA from their grouchy cat hubby. Truly, they are doing God's work. Granted, the Lamb canonically is God now, so, uh. Mostly they're just doing their own work.

Speaking of their grouchy cat hubby, yes this is absolutely still Narilamb, Narinder is 100% into his goofy-ass spouse always no matter what and we all know it, he just wasn't expecting his brand new adopted kid to share the same single goofy-ass brain cell as the Lamb. :)

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Your stories have definitely scratched that Astarion itch that I've had since I started the game!

One thing that's diffently not sat right with me at the end of the game, is how tav and the gang don't run after astarion after he loses his immunity to the sun. I would imagine that if the player character was romantically involved with the guy they would atleast try to shield or comfort the poor guy. A short drabble on that would be awesome!

That's so sad, I heard that's what happens 😭😭 I'm in act 3 and haven't had to see it for myself yet so yes, let's do some preemptive therapy there! And just warning since I haven't beaten the game yet I'm sure this will be inaccurate as fuck, but also with spoilers somehow ~

~

It was an exhilarating feeling, to win against all odds. One that Astarion had never been confident he would experience. It felt good, final. The official beginning of his new free life, even if it was bittersweet.

This was the bitter part, the end of his illithid protection. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, and the burn was already starting. He was being an idiot, standing there with the rest of you like he belonged, waiting for the last possible second before he had to scuttle down in the darkness. But he wanted to see this out. Hadn't he earned that right?

According to the laws of reality, no. No he hadn't, because you had barely opened your mouth before the pain started to overwhelm him. The others would be able to hear it, the sickening sound of his skin crackling.

He was out of time. But before he could make a break for it, you happened. Astarion had been a little preoccupied with his impending doom to pay close attention to what you had been mumbling. But then sudden blackness was blanketing above your heads, opaque enough to make it as dark as night.

Astarion's eyes widened as the pain subsided, surprised beyond belief.

You were looking at him with concern in your eyes, gesturing to the think cloud of darkness above your head, "Will this be dark enough? Can it still get through?"

Astarion stared at you, momentarily confused on why you would do something like that. Before he remembered, oh. Yes. The extended care for his well-being was probably included in the whole love thing. Of course. Obviously.

That was definitely going to take some getting used to.

But the reasoning didn't stop an idiotic smile from blooming on his face.

You grinned back at him, somehow still managing to read his mind even without the tadpoles, "Did you really think I would forget about you?"

He had, but through no fault of your own. One of these days he was going to actually remember that he was worth the effort to keep alive.

"Thank you darling," Astarion said, ignoring the quested as he waltzed up to you. He grabbed your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips to kiss, "Just what would I do without you?"

"Speaking of," You turned to the Emperor, a question in your eyes as you vaguely waved upward, "Is there anything we can do about this particular problem?"

"The astral tadpole is still-"

"I'll pass on that, thank you very much," Astarion interrupted, cringing at the very thought of willingly letting another worm into his brain, "But I appreciate the thought."

There were worse things than living his life in darkness. And Astarion was counting becoming a mind flayer in the top three.

He watched, participated even in everyone's final goodbyes, always eyeing you at of the corner of his eye. It's not that he thought you would leave after you both declared your eternal love for each other, but... the two of you hadn't exactly talked about the specifics of the future either.

But that didn't stop you from leaving together. Astarion hadn't expected you to keep the dark cloud above his head as you walked the streets, startling nearly every passerby. But hells, the heroes of Baldur's gate had earned the right to a little strangeness.

You both had decided on going to the nearest, most windowless inn that you could find. Astarion wanted nothing more than to scrub the brain viscera from his skin and sleep for three days. Preferably with you in his arms.

But before all that... he had to know something.

The question was out of him as soon as you both were behind closed doors, "So what happens next to the great hero of Baldur's Gate? I'm sure you have something in mind."

He was just praying those future plans still involved him.

You blinked at him, head cocked like he was asking a silly question, "We go and find you a cure so you can walk in the sun again of course. What else would we do?"

That took Astarion aback, "I-Do you think that's really possible?"

"Well," You started, counting off on your fingers, "We know that illithid powers can do it. As well as devil contacts and ritualistic demon sacrifices. If that's all possible then that means there has to be something else on the other end of the spectrum, right?"

Astarion didn't exactly share your blind confidence. But you did have a point. The two of you had managed so many impossible feats in such a short amount of time. What was one more?

"I suppose there's a chance," Astarion said, hope fluttering in his chest with every word, "And if there is a chance no matter how small, I'm going to take it. But..."

He didn't want to ask, but he needed to know, "Are you sure this is what you want? I would... understand if you wanted to go your own way."

In all honesty, Astarion would not understand. He'd be absolutely furious. Especially after everything you'd been through. This was more of a confirmation for his waning self-confidence than anything else, versus a sincere to desire to let you go your own way. He had no intention of letting you go, not if he could help it.

But his near certainty in your feelings was the only thing that gave him the confidence to ask the question in the first place. And you did not disappoint.

"No, this is what I want," You insisted, reaching out to take his hand in yours, "You're what I want."

That was exactly what Astarion needed to hear. He used your joined hands to tug you closer, face to face.

"Good, because as selfless as I am, I really did not want to let you go," Astarion smiled, leaning in to lightly press a kiss to your lips, "I hope you realize that my love has made me a tad bit obsessed with you my dear."

"I'm sure it's no worse than me," You sighed, resting your forehead against his own, "You've really ruined me for anyone else haven't you?"

Astarion grinned, leaning in for another kiss. He had every intention of making it stay that way, for as long as you would have him.

[loveinhawkins]

“Still super jealous as hell by the way,” Eddie says; Steve laughs, elbows him in the chest—disguising a want to touch by shoving him away.

There’s a brief flash of warmth against his skin before Eddie teeters back.

He stays close though, dances in and out of Steve’s space as they walk, almost close enough to…

“D’you know what’s adding an extra layer of, uh…” Eddie clicks his fingers then says with relish, “Of batshit insanity to everything?”

“No,” Steve says, and he feels a smile growing; he couldn’t fight it even if he tried. He doesn’t want to. “But I’m sure you’re gonna tell me.”

“My, uh. One of my favourite games as a kid was… uh well, it didn’t really have a name, it was more—”

“No jump rope for you?” Steve asks in mock surprise.

Eddie snorts. “Nah, nothing as normal as that, Harrington, honestly. Kid me was a visionary.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Steve says.

The words hover in the space between teasing and genuine; he means both, of course.

“At, um. When I was at my dad’s.”

Eddie’s smile flickers, and Steve tries to fill in the gaps: has vague memories of middle school halfway through one year, of murmured interest, you seen the new kid? He just moved here.

“Our place backed onto some woods, and I’d just… kinda wander.”

Eddie scoffs—his foot makes an aborted motion as he walks, like he’d gone to absentmindedly kick a twig and thought better of it.

Better safe than sorry, Steve thinks. Hive mind and all that.

“So your favourite game was wandering?” he prompts when Eddie goes quiet.

A tease again. Softer. Really means you can tell me. I want to know.

He wonders if Eddie can hear it.

“Well, when you put it like that, it sounds shit. And it was more, like, active up in…” Eddie taps his temple. “I’d just… uh. Pretend the woods were haunted, stuff like that.”

“Oh,” Steve says, amusement growing. “So all this,” he gestures to the vines and trees, to the fog creeping along the forest floor, “is real immersive for you, then. Got it.”

“Um, no,” Eddie says, and his voice is going up into that wobbly tone that only comes from suppressing genuine, ugly laughter. “The stuff in my head was gothic, Harrington. It had class.”

“God, man, I’m sorry. Is the alternate dimension not living up to your expectations?”

“I’m gonna make a complaint.”

“Yeah, do it in writing. Make it professional.”

“To whom it may concern,” Eddie starts, all comically snooty.

Steve laughs.

And Eddie’s up close again, grinning, and Steve presses the side of his forearm up against his chest; the moment lingers, until Eddie moves back, until Steve drops his arm a fraction too late.

“I’ve found the experience provided—”

Steve snorts. “Experience?”

“—thoroughly lacking in both atmosphere and charm. I expect appropriate compensation as soon as possible.”

“Tell you what,” Steve says, “show me a picture of your haunted woods when we’re outta here. I wanna see how they compare.”

“Um,” Eddie says through the tail end of a chuckle. He sounds embarrassed. “I don’t have… My dad, uh, he wasn’t exactly the kinda guy to take a lot of pictures, y’know?”

And Steve doesn’t know—or at least, he thinks he doesn’t.

What he does know is that in the back of a cabinet there’s an old baby book: he can tell exactly when his grandma first began to get sick—and when everything else went to shit—because the milestone entries stop a third of the way through.

He doesn’t mention it. He can’t find the words, not here, not now—even if he could, he’s worried it’d sound a clumsy, weak comparison at best, self-centred at worst.

So he waits. Feels when the abrupt silence becomes less heavy.

“Did you, like, do speeches to yourself in the game, too?”

Eddie gives him a sideways, bemused look. “Maybe.”

Steve pretends to mull it over. Nods. “Yeah, figures.”

A pause.

“Uh, hold on,” Eddie says, chuckling again, like he’s been surprised into it. “You can’t just leave it there, man, you—”

“Nah, it’s just.” Steve smothers a grin. “Just fits you, that’s all. Like, you would’ve dramatically narrated your own birth if you could, I know it.”

Eddie laughs hard; he nearly drops his flashlight.

“You’re funny,” he says eventually, still smiling.

“Oh, sorry,” Steve quips back, “was I not supposed to be? Ruined your doctrine again?”

“No, just—” Eddie laughs again. Sighs. “Just timing, man. Wish I was finding out in a more, uh, low stakes kinda way. Like…”

His eyes go a little far-off, and for a second Steve can see that kid in him, the one who kept himself company in his own imagination.

“Like we’re just walking past the lockers, or something.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, with probably more feeling than it strictly calls for. “Anything beats these goddamn vines.”

He could add that there is no ideal timing, really: that if there’s one thing he’s learned throughout all this, it’s that there’s hardly ever time to dwell on things. It’s more do or die.

Besides, he thinks, you could wait all your life for a perfect moment, and it still passes you—

The earth trembles.

Eddie sways; Steve lunges to the side so Eddie falls backwards, away from a nearby vine. He tries to plant his feet, realises he’s inevitably going down, too, and course corrects.

Falls.

Feels the rise and fall of Eddie’s chest against his hand.

“M’definitely filing that complaint,” Eddie says breathlessly.

He turns so he’s facing Steve. Stays close.

They’ve both dropped their flashlights. The effect is dazzling—Eddie’s face is illuminated, eyes bright.

No atmosphere, my ass, Steve thinks.

“You okay?” he murmurs.

“Y-yeah,” Eddie says—gasps, really. Steve feels how his breathing shakes.

There’s barely a disguise now; they’re both leaning in.

And for a moment, they’re not here at all; they’re just at school, hiding by the lockers.

Then again…

Maybe it could only happen here.

Maybe wandering—maybe everything—has been leading up to this: the moment before a chance taken.

[bcyhoods]

hi! can I please request the prompt “caressing the other's cheek softly, hoping to wake them up that way” with steve and shy!reader? maybe it’s their first time waking up together and he’s just so in love?

thank you for the req nonnieeee <333 need him in my bed immediately, thanks! | 0.5k gn!reader

Steve can’t seem to put his finger on it.

Maybe you were born with some sort of super power. Like you’re able to induce serenity with just a touch of your fingertips, a timid press of your lips to his cheek. Or it could be something spiritual. Something about your souls being intertwined due to something living in the stars or the color of your aura or something.

He doesn’t really know. Waking up to you in his bed for the first time makes his brain all fuzzy.

The sun spills in through his blinds and covers every inch of your exposed skin in golden warmth. Your hair is wild, splayed out over his pillowcase — which he’s sure now smells like your shampoo. You’d slowly inched apart from each other during the night, but your hand still rests over his torso, accidentally bunching up the material of his shirt around your fingertips. The longer he lets himself look at you, the harder his heart thrashes around in his chest.

He doesn’t really want to wake you, but he so desperately wants to talk to you. With a tentative hand, he trails up your arm to cup your jaw. His thumb gently passes back and forth over the swell of your cheekbone, reveling in the softness of your skin. A blithe grin hijacks his mouth once he sees you beginning to stir.

“Hmm.” Your hand is gone from his torso to grasp onto his own hand, still just barely caressing your face. You blink a few times, adjusting to the brightness filtering in when you see his face. Warmth settles on his freckled cheeks and paints his skin pink, and it only gets deeper when you give him your own sleepy smile. “Morning.”

“Good morning,” he answers, voice raspy and deep.

He’s looking at you like he can find an answer in your eyes. You might have the entire universe hiding in your pupils. Definitely something akin to stardust shines in them, he swears.

His attention makes you feel lightheaded and your skin burns beneath his touch. You squeeze at his fingers and pucker your lips to fruitlessly keep your nerves at bay, but it produces a kind of upside-down grin that makes him beam and chuckle. You giggle and ask, “What are you doing?”

“Nothin’. Just wanna look at you.”

“Ugh,” you groan and roll your eyes, but the wide smile on your face reveals your secret. Steve Harrington makes your stomach flutter and makes your heart beat so erratically that you can feel it thump and shake against every inch of your body. That’s why you’re quick to shield your face with your hands, muffling your nervous giggles in your palms.

“Oh, stop.” Peeling your hands away from your face, he brings them up to his lips and kisses your knuckles, unceremoniously. The smacking sounds make you laugh, and when he notices, he makes sure to kiss them louder. He stops the assault on your hands to cup them together and press them against his chest.

His heart beats as quickly as yours does.

“I liked sleeping with you,” you tell him with a gummy smile like it was confidential.

“Yeah?”

You’re immediately recognizing the double entendre, but he’s too lovesick to notice. You consume his every thought, it’s impossible to get his mind working accurately. So instead of teasing you, he whispers

“I liked sleeping with you, too, honey.”

[dapper-lil-arts]

It's never too late to love, it's never too late to live.

[margarethelstone-2]

found and coloured an old zutara mlb au thingy.

because obviously i had combined the two.

[alovember]

"Let's make one, too"

pls go read @humandyke s fic Death Cup <333

Here's a little scene from ch.7 with the tiny snowmen, I tried to draw it how I saw it in my head lmao

[essiemclaren]

mixed-up order

part xi

pairing: lando norris x reader

In which two neighbors, Lando and Y/N, find their lives entwined by a DoorDash mix-up.

reader's chat with max f.

reader's chat with oscar

reader's text with her friend

reader's twitter/x

reader's text with lando

reader's twitter/x

reader's text with lando <3

bonus

--

a/n: IT'S FINALLY HERE!!! THIS PART HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR AGES 😩 i apologise for the delays, because i was busy with finals 💔 but now that's finally over, hopefully i can post more now! i missed you guys sm!! i hope everyone still remembers me (why am i acting like ive been gone for a year lol) ALSO i wasnt expecting that my manifestation would come true?? because hello?? LANDO WON??? AFTER SO MANY PODIUMS, HE FINALLY GOT HIS FIRST WIN??? and yeahhh that's all :DD i hope everyone liked this because i had so much fun doing this!! my tumblr acc is fixed!! if you want to be tagged just drop a comment and add your fave emoji!! (will try my best to tag as much as i can!!) oh please dont be a ghost reader, i would love to interact with you guys! 🫶

hope everyone's safe and well

big love from essie 🫂

tags: @ririyulife @evesfile @xlinxdax0704 @prongsflower @entr4p3 @insanedeathwish @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @harrysdimple05 @yllomhej @cherry-piee @minkyungseokie @annie115 @jamieeboulos @urfavsgf @a-disturbing-self-reflection @writingworlds @ems-alexandra @chezmardybum @stinkyjax @barcelonalover @littlexscarletxwitch @goldenharrysworld @lexiecamposv @faeriepigeons @dessxoxsworld @telengraph @colmathgames2 @honethatty12 @snapeeballsack @lichterfee @lightdragonrayne @sinfully-yoursss @i2innie @mattymybeloved @purplephantomwolf @namgification

@a-beaverhausen @xjval @sp1rl @telengraph @loveparkersblog @lilipiggytails @kqliie @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @leclercsluv @norwayxo @creamsteam3 @maxverstappendefender @kithkith2