#high-end crush

[mipexch]

comic about v2 and the goal they'll never fully reach alongside a dissatisfying conclusion. intimate rivalry and all (alternative ending comic. V1 dies instead of V2 during 4-4. V2 is narrating. V1 is dead.)

[ewwww-what]

It probably won’t (it will)

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

A 10 year old Phantom ends up in Gotham after running away from Amity and refusing to return. Not because of trauma or anything, he was just sick of being treated like trash by the people he saved all the time.

Danny loved to explore and this new world had so much new stuff to feed his curiosity. It was when he was helping a racoon down from a lamp post that he met Robin, who asked him why a meta was in the city.

Phantom let the racoon scamper off as he explained that he was new to the dimension and didn't really know much. He had left his previous home behind and implied he was mistreated before he apologized for not knowing the rules. They became fast friends after that.

Danny learns about the world around him through Robin and learns of Batman. A misunderstanding is made where Danny assumes Batman chose to dress up as that specific animal because he loved it instead of seeing it as a symbol of fear. So now he keeps presentimg Batman with injured bats for him to nurse back to health and he just has to swallow his fear as he accepts the little fluffs.

In other news Nightwing is (jokingly) helping the 10/11 year old stabby Robin plan a wedding. This is normal kid behavior, right?

Talia learns about her sons first crush and that its some sort of pit creature and its not too long before the entire freaking League of Assasins/ League of Shadows is trying to get them to bond. They're not specifically trying to play matchmaker, more along the lines of them trying to ensure friendship. Talia would sooner behead half the league herself than let her son date at such a young age. (Mama bear Talia ftw!)

-----------

Talia and Bruce: You're not allowed to date until you're 16

Damian: What?!

Bruce: We can make it 20

Damian: >>:0

Danny: *oblivious*

[hitlikehammers]

a Valentine's-flavoured cuddly-loose-lipped-secret-spilling-hopped-up-on-cold-medicine!Eddie

(and his ever-devoted boyfriend Steve who he's been crushing on since high school but that part's a secret was a secret)

for @thoroughlycollected: featuring the (actually kind of horrible) way schools would sell carnations for $1 or something for Valentine's Day to anonymously deliver to your crush

It turns out that Eddie under the influence comes in a variety of flavors.

High Eddie is languid, touchier than he’s normally prone to which is fucking saying something, and weirdly philosophical. He talks about alternate universes beyond the Upside Down as a meta-something concept. He theorizes how maybe he died in another dimension but some weird particle-subversion-something-something-whatever couldn’t survive re-sublimation in the Right-Side-Up and honestly when the big-brain bullshit skirts the edges of Eddie’s mortality Steve is here for all of none of that part, because Eddie’s heart was beating under Steve’s hands the whole goddamn time, sometimes maybe coaxed by Steve’s hands but from the moment Steve found him and Dustin to the moment he let go at the hospital he didn’t not feel Eddie’s heart beating, and he knew that not least because he would have come apart at the seams if that’s happened, he would have crumbled entirely for losing, or almost-losing, or thinking even close to losing the potential, the promise between them they’d barely skirted but that’d rooted heavy and at home in Steve’s chest already and fuck, fuck—

When Eddie philosophizes in general usually Steve just hangs on his every word, mesmerized by the beauty of him top of bottom, inside and out: somehow all Steve’s. But when his philosophizing leans toward that Steve’s own heartbeat does some weird shit that the weed can’t claim whole credit for and he grabs Eddie hard every time and kisses him until he’s dizzy with it, until they both are, until Eddie’s reduced just to blinking for at least five whole minutes and by that point High Eddie’s on to another topic altogether.

Which is for the best.

By comparison: Drunk Eddie is a lovelorn bastard, a little bit teary with it sometimes even, but always clingy and a touch extra possessive, sappier than he gets on even his most sappy days. One time he told Steve that no, he couldn’t let him go to take a piss because, and Steve remembers this word for word: there’s stardust in my body that’s in your body and that shit’s like magnets, Stevie, like magnets or whatever so my heart’s like pulled to your heart and if you go away without me ever you’ll rip my heart out—because like, a guy remembers that kind of declaration shouted into his ear over the music at a bar that’s safe enough that they’d get away with the excuse that Eddie was plastered, for the way he was hanging on Steve, but thank fuck the lighting was shitty enough that no one could see the flush on Steve’s cheeks, and thank fuck even more that no one could see his magnet-heart and how pounded something wild for the way Eddie draped over him and pressed full against his chest and nuzzled under his chin and made the kind of declarations that Steve had kinda been searching and hoping for all his life.

Drunk or not.

But then there’s another flavor, a specific one: and that’s medicated Eddie. And that Eddie, that cough-medicine-soaked-to-the-gills Eddie?

He’s an adorably giggly little fuck, is what he is.

“I’ll feel better by Saturday,” he lolls his head over to Steve’s shoulder where they sit beside one another, Eddie properly bundled in three blankets with a Sprite in hand. “Pinky-promise,” he slurs a little, but it might just be the stuffed-up nose doing the heavy lifting on garbling his words, and then fuck, of course the dipshit reaches up to seal the deal like the absolutely irresistible goofball he is, and always: snot-coated and all.

“Just rest up, babe,” Steve pulls him close with an arm around around his shoulder, dropping a firm kiss to his forehead: still warmer than Steve would like, in all honesty: “forget about Saturday,” and he means that with his whole chest, because fuck reservations and flowers and boxes of the chocolates Eddie likes best from the city—his boyfriend is sick, his boyfriend is hurting, and there is kinda not a single more important thing than that, than attending to that and making it hurt even the slightest bit less of he’s able, if it’s in his power.

“But we had,” Eddie sniffles heavily, loud and almost painful-sounding; “we had plans,” he whines, and turns toward Steve with overbright-eyes, far too watery:“our first,” he says it like it’s a heartbreak unto itself, bottom little quivering, and fuck.

Steve smiles though he hurts for Eddie right now so hard, want to take all the aching into himself it to spare this beautiful man for a fucking second, just he reaches and traces lilting patters around Eddie’s eyes, his browbone, his jaw, slow down to press soft at his lips:

“You not planning on having many more?” Steve asks soft, a little playful, a little leading: he likes to hear it, and often: that Eddie’s in this as deep and true and Steve is. For the long haul.

“All the more,” Eddie sing-songs sniffily, which is both pathetic and adorable, tugs at Steve’s heartstrings and the corners of his lips alike; “alllll of the more, Stevie-baby,” he draws out in promise, crosses his heart uncoordinated for feeling fuzzy with his cold and being fully cocooned in blankets and again: adorable and pathetic and perfect.

The man’s fucking perfect, even when he’s all stuffed-up and curled sick on the couch.

“Got you the best presents,” he adds on dreamily with a little chuckle, the high-pitched airy kind that float in the air between like bubbles; “so much better than all the other ones,” he adds kinda petulantly, pouts full around the words and maybe it’s the cough medicine, or the fuzziness Steve knows well comes with both the cold itself and the remedies to help alike; he brushes his lips against Eddie’s forehead just to be safe and Eddie giggles a little and leans full-bodied into Steve, unbalanced for the swaddling of most of his frame and that just makes him laugh all the more: he’s no more feverish than he had been, which was admittedly barely, just more than Steve liked, but: yeah.

Yeah, that’s…he kinda guesses it all could combine to have Eddie spewing kinda nonsense, and he probably should just smile and pull his boyfriend closer in his arms and cuddle him some more but he’s both curious and concerned, which turns out to be a potent mix, so:

“Other ones?”

“Mmm,” Eddie hums long and warm as he snuggles up to Steve a little closer, and Steve stretches an arm around him wholly, settles him flush to his chest: “but shh, don’t tell, okay?”

And Eddie sounds breathless, which piques Steve worry alongside the bright flush he finds on Eddie’s cheeks when he looks down: his eyes are fairly clear and…no, forehead’s still the same temperature, not clammy or anything, and Eddie’s just preening as he lazily tips his face up to receive more kisses, mostly unaware that Steve’s attentions serve any other purpose than loving on him.

And , well, no: they really don’t, it’s just the love’s multi-layered here, just now. It’s love, and it’s devotion, and it’s dedication to Eddie’s general wellbeing all wrapped into one. So: yeah.

“Swear,” Steve decides to play along, hoping for clues as to just how loopy Eddie’s ended up for one end of the sick-stick or the other; “what’s up, baby?” he draws circles over the harsh jut of Eddie’s clavicle, little massages that Eddie eats up with a dimpley grin as he sighs, back to the dreamy-tone again:

“Flowers.”

Steve buries a little smile into Eddie’s tangly tresses, because like…

“You got me flowers?”

No one’s ever really gotten Steve flowers.

“Noooo,” Eddie giggles and shakes his head under Steve’s chin as he buries closer into Steve’s chest, stretches Steve’s already mostly unbuttoned shirt out to damn well nuzzle the fuzz of curls beneath, and he makes this fucking…soft little half-whine that’s almost a purr, that vibrates straight through Steve’s ribs and his heart goddamn flutters, fucking hell—

“But that’s a great idea, can you remind Eddie tomorrow?” he pulls back with those fucking button eyes so big, as he talks about himself like he’s another person with such innocence then chuckles, burrowing against in Steve’s chest:

“I’d love to buy you good flowers, the nice kind, not the ones in a ten-gallon bucket sitting getting brown,” and his voice is all frown but…adorable, fuck, he’s such a fucking adorable drugged-up sicko, Steve can’t really handle this shit.

“And it was so sad,” he sniffles against Steve’s chest, and hell if Steve knows if it’s congestion or something like…mounting? Because he’s so sad? “The white ones, because they got brown so fast and, and,” and his words get caught up as his lungs rebel, as he sneezes, shakes from his core and Steve’s hands grab for him, tighten around him fiercely and Eddie gives into that protective instinct in Steve like clockwork, magnetic and automatic and Steve loves him so goddamn fucking much.

He presses his lips to Eddie’s temple as Eddie catches his breath and groans a little; kisses his over-warm skin just because.

“Carnations,” Eddie sniffles once he gets his bearings back enough; “are symbolssss,” he draws out long like a sloppy hiss; “of devohhh,” and he coughs a little, and pouts at being interrupted so he huffs heavier on the last syllable: “shun.”

De…devotion? Fucking…carnations?

Shit, Steve hasn’t seen a carnation, at least not knowingly; not since—

“And white ones mean pure,” Eddie rambles, all nasally but indignant anyhow, somehow; “so white carnations would be pure devotion,” and Eddie untucks himself from Steve’s chest for a second to look at him straight on with a little wobbly grin.

“You didn’t even notice, did you,” Eddie says, and there’s no sadness in it; but fuck, Steve…

Steve might fucking, like, start fucking crying.

Because he knows exactly what Eddie’s talking about, now.

“I noticed,” because it was the fucking carnations, the last time he thought about them: Hawkins High School, where they decided to hold up the horrible preteen tradition of anonymous flowers delivered for Valentine’s Day, so three people could be reminded they were the top of the fucking food chain with a pile of crushed flowers still dripping from their buckets of water, the little colored-paper tags soggy with the writing unreadable, while the rest of the school got to feel less-than when they got nothing, and Steve got more than his share even in the years after he toppled from on high in the social hierarchy, but they’d never mattered to him, they’d kinda made him feel uncomfortable. Except—and he could never explain it, but it was predictable, it happened every fucking year—in the collection of reds and pinks there was always one that stood out, all on it’s own.

A white one; Steve never even caught that they’d gone brown at the edges.

“Every year I noticed,” he exhales, and breathes Eddie in from the top of his head because, because—

Every year? Meant…meant every year. Freshman on up.

“My heart used to do this thing,” Steve murmurs against Eddie’s scalp, kinda; and yeah, it’s basically doing the same goddamn thing right now, a little trippy and dizzy and just…it’d scared him a little.

He recognizes now it’s how his chest feels when what he’s doing, where he is, who he’s with, who he holds inside tight close with him: it’s how his chest feels when what he’s doing is right.

“When I saw the white ones,” Steve whispers, and kisses against Eddie’s hair again, and again, because god; “only one person ever sent those.”

“Sometimes I’d have to run, like, hide in the gym showers so no one would know it was me,” Eddie matches his whisper, almost conspiratorial as he reaches out for Steve hand and Steve’s more than happy to meet him, to grasp tight, so tight; “hated gym, did you know that?”

“Oh, I had no idea,” Steve deadpans as he nuzzles Eddie’s hair, while Eddie goes back to nuzzles his chest, and Eddie’s breathing starts to even out and Steve thinks maybe he’s asleep, but then—

“Stevie?”

“Yeah, baby?” Steve wraps his arm around Eddie a little tighter.

“You’ll remind me about the flowers?” he asks, so goddamn soft; “wanna buy the best white carnations you’ve ever seen in your whole life.”

And Steve promises, yeah, of course—except: he kinda thinks maybe he already got the best ones years ago, again, and again.

He won’t discourage more of the very best, though, so long as Eddie’s the one next to him, handing them to him face to face, no hiding anywhere, just: them.

Pure devotion.

✨ ao3 link here

permanent tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson

♥️

divider credit here

[chersoyei]

what would become of me if i gave them to you? bye.

[smolandweirdwriter]

ally and siobhan planted the seed in my mind and now i MUST see adaine and kristen play each other in pool. just for the bit, because this is how i imagine it going:

kristen: where did you learn to play pool?

adaine: *flashbacks to her father having those 'after-dinner-smoking-and-games-with-colleagues' moments in her childhood* we had a table in my house

kristen: *lining up her next shot* oh. that's nice.

adaine: yeah. what about you?

kristen: OH during my huge 'rejecting helioic traditions' phase, i decided i wanted to learn, um you know, drinking games and stuff are sinful to helioic worshippers, which is weird because Helio's literally a fucking frat boy. it's a VERY messed up religion, the more i think about it.

adaine: yeah, I'm sorry. so tracker taught you?

kristen: *flashbacks to tracker doing one of those 'here-let-me-teach-you' moments where they're pressed up together and end up making out* yeah.

[cometblaster2070]

i am upsetting myself at ungodly hours by imagining how the scene in apple and raven's dorm room must've looked like after raven refused to sign.

like imagine apple sobbing the night away and raven tries to comfort her only to be rebuffed and she spends the entire night awake and staring at the ceiling while the guilt eats away at her as she hears apple's quiet sobs.

and apple's there feeling so hurt and angry and alone, and in that moment she probably wants nothing more than a friend, a comforting presence, but she can't even look her bsf in the eye because she's just so upset about what's just happened.

idk there's something about the two of them being so steeped in distress and sadness because raven can't force apple to understand her and apple can't comprehend the reasons for raven's decisions.

and the two of them love each other SO MUCH, but right then they're just stuck in that suffocating dorm room with only each other for company, wondering what they're going to do next.

[nailgunstigmata]

i know deep in my heart that mac had a phase where he got really into shitty phone games but specifically on dennis‘ phone. he pokes dennis with a fork during breakfast until he just goes WHAT and mac is like can i play some games bro….pls 🥺🥺 and dennis throws a spoon at his head yelling at him to just install them on his own phone (same model). and then dennis angrily eats oatmeal with water while mac plays bejeweled on dennis‘ phone at full volume and every time he loses a heart he goes FUCK and tells the computer hes going to kill it

[frickingnerd]

dating mukuro ikusaba

pairing: mukuro ikusaba x gn!reader

tags: wholesome fluff, overprotective!mukuro,mention of arguments at the end, mukuro is bad at feelings & romance

mukuro doesn't have any dating experience. she didn't think she was the type of girl to fall in love, yet here she was, dating you

and to her own surprise, she fell in love with you quicker than she realized it

she wasn't used to those feelings she had for you and it took her quite a while to realize that she was falling in love

it was honestly quite confusing for her at first. she had never cared much about love, yet here she was, head over heels for you

mukuro is unsure at first how to show her love and tends to be a little obsessive at first

she's very direct with you and once she realizes she's in love with you, she will confess to you as soon as she can

her confession probably wasn't the most romantic thing ever, but she doesn't believe that it even mattered

all that mattered was that you ended up reciprocating her feelings and were now dating her!

mukuro is quite protective of you and her overprotective nature tends to scare away your friends or potential suitors

dating her is a little isolating, but mukuro will give you all the love you need!

just make sure not to upset her!

once you get into a fight with the ultimate soldier and start to see that side of her, you won't be able to ever see her the same again…

[moonetta]

Owari really popped off with this gay ass design he’s so pretty and beautiful

[freaky-flawless]

Now we can say that all three of the main ghouls (Frankie, Draculaura, and Clawdeen) have fallen for human dudes in some of the different medias.

[formosusiniquis]

Argyle as Steve's bi realization, hear me out.

Steve is used to a certain amount of confusing feelings for people after a lot of close contact, high stress apocalypse stopping. There was the first time with Nancy (and wow Jonathan is actually a pretty cool dude, if he changed his hair a little, maybe stopped taking creep pictures in the woods he could be a really fun to hangout with).

And then there was the second time, and that hurt a little bit more cause Nancy is still just as great. Even when she's moving straight on to Jonathan, who really is just a great dude he's really come into his own and he's got kind eyes even if they are staring at Nancy all the time. It's probably just the residual heartache. Some weird things getting tied up with the only two not children that know about monsters too.

But then there's the third time with Robin. And Steve finally thinks he's figured out what's going on. It's like when you take a girl to a horror movie on the first date, only times a million. Your heart rate is up and your adrenaline is through the roof. Of course he's imprinted on any age appropriate person he's near. He probably did love Nancy, Robin is definitely the platonic love of his life, and that definitely explains all the weird feelings he still sometimes has when he's around Jon for too long. It's all just crossed wires in his traumatized, concussed brain.

By the fourth go around he's got it all figured out. Sure, Eddie is objectively, pretty attractive. Sure, he's great with kids which is like Steve's number one desirable trait he looks for. He's funny, he's got a great smile, he's constantly in Steve's space. But the swoopy feeling in his stomach, the dizzy light headedness. That's all adrenaline and blood loss. Robin isn't an option, he's already done this too many times with Nancy, his brain has found the default all that's left is Eddie Munson. But wow, big boy, that one is… something.

So when all is said and done; and Eddie has claimed to see angels and they all look like Steve Harrington -- he does giggle a little at that, feels the strange urge to kick his feet or twirl his hair. But he's just excited that he's got a new age appropriate friend and that they all made it out mostly unscathed. Any and all blush inducing thoughts and feelings can be easily explained away by the waning stress of a traumatic event and the lingering joy that fuck they really did make it out this time.

But then in the quiet, as the dust settles and they all do their best to find normal again. Jonathan has brought Argyle home to Hawkins.

Argyle who has the nicest hair Steve has ever seen. Whose first words to him are, "Dude, that is a righteous mane you're rocking, do you use oils in your routine cause I really think they'd take you to the next level." Argyle, who manages to convince Dustin 'picky eater' Henderson to try fruit on his pizza. Argyle, who made the best brownies Steve has ever eaten and helped him get high for the first time in nearly a year.

There's no adrenaline to blame this time, no lingering apocalypse.

"Robin, I need to talk to you."

He pulls her away from the rest of the older teen party as quick as he can. Nervous and confused and panicked and excited. For once in their friendship she lets herself be tugged along without complaint, understanding instinctively that this is about to be a bathroom conversation.

"You know how Vickie likes both, guys and girls."

"We do not know that, but I remember your theory."

"Well, she definitely does and I'm pretty sure I do too."

"Oh my god, Steve," she stretches his name out until it echoes, "really, I'm so proud of you. That's so great, wait , who was it? How'd you realize? Oh my gosh was it-"

"-Eddie." "Argyle." they say the names in sync.

"Argyle?" "Eddie?" In sync again even their confusion matches.

"Oh God, Eddie," and with a, mostly, clear head things do start making more sense. Eddie, who is co-parenting the kids with him. Eddie, who always makes sure Steve doesn't neglect his own needs in favor of the rest of the group. Eddie, who watched Steve and Lucas play a pickup game last weekend even though he clearly didn’t get the rules past ball in basket. Eddie, who has been reading Lord of the Rings to him over the phone when the nightmares keep them both awake and they can feel razored teeth and barbed tails clawing at their skin. Eddie, who still hasn't gotten his vest back because the thought of losing it makes something hot and tight clench in Steve's chest. "Robin, Eddie!"

Robin, for her part looks relieved, "Thank God, I did not know how to tell you that I'm pretty sure that Argyle was gonna be another partner Jonathan beat you out for."

And with that name comes another realization, "Oh my god, Robin I had a thing for Byers." He can see the laughter threatening to break through and as the giggles start he actually processes what she said, "wait, Jon and Argyle, really?"

She pushes down her laughter, "Yeah, pretty sure the two of them and Nancy are having a little ménage à trois, if you get my meaning."

"Yeah that French I do know."

Robin let's them sit on the cold tile of his bathroom floor, processing and just sharing each other's company. She let's Steve find just a moments peace before she says, "You know this means you've had a thing for everyone in that room, right?"

He lets her guide him into laughing, just like they laughed together in the Starcourt bathroom. It's easier than getting embarrassed. And anyway she's right, as always, and that feels like a crisis for after he's figured out what to do about his new Eddie problem.

[moonchild-in-blue]

@hookedhobbies @politemagic

This as stalker iii x his partner? Yeah? Do we agree on it?

[legolasghosty]

🐑 Alternate Universe- Magic, Mutual Pining, Demonic possession, Furbies

Oh dear...

Alex is attending one of the most prestigious magic academies in the country, on the orders of his parents of course. Even though Laiz Fier Academy reviles even the name of the only type of magic he's ever been good at. His parents swore he'd find another specialty here, and he'd let himself believe them, like the idiot he is. He's scraping by in classes. Barely. At least he's managed to make a couple of friends and figure out how to sneak into the library stacks to find books that will actually help him hone his skills.

However, Alex realizes now there's a reason why it's not recommended to do your first summoning alone. Because, while he does manage to summon a demon, it doesn't exactly end up in the silvery urn he'd laid in the center of the pentagram.

So now he has a talking, demonic Furby to hide. One that, despite its too-wide eyes and disconcertingly smooth voice, Alex thinks he might be developing feelings for.

(Fake fic ask game!)

[alchemistc]

Going to a baseball game tmrw night, I apologize in advance for the person I always become when I am in the middle of a shippy hyperfixation and go to sporting events.

If I'm still on this train in October y'all are in for a deluge of hockey hc's.

[monachopism]

am i autistic or am i just paranoid. level: impossible