#sorry for the fic spam

[darkwing-katy]

Yeah, remember how I mentioned I might just upload four chapters of my LOST fic because it’s the 20th anniversary today and I do what I want?

Oops? Sorry not sorry?

The fourth and final update of the day will be at midnight tonight (I know that technically there’s only three 8-hour increments in a day but I started at midnight and dammit, don’t tell me what I can’t do!).

Besides, all of these chapters are like, fairly short chapters. And this means that on the first Sunday of October, we finally get to see my boi Henry Gale from Minnesota for the first time in person.

[extratiredofyourcrap]

*crawls from the trenches*

IT IS DONEEEEEE

This animatic is a snippet from @gentrychild ‘s fic Anyone!!! If you’ve been following the production, you’ll know that I’ve had quite a difficult run with this project, (The old files became unusable and I had to re-create it all in two days cause it’s technically one of my finals) but!!!!! I hear by declare it good enough!!!! I might do more with it later, but I’m not sure lol

Sound design and art is all by me, but y’all should definitely check out Gentrychild and their fics, literally all of them slap

Okay I’m gonna sleep now :3

[sboochi]

Hypotetical meet-cute that turns into Jack questioning his life and Hiccup wondering who the frick is that guy staring at him from across the street

[elviswhore69]

Gulp gulp gulp gulp gulp gulp gulp.

[multidimensionalmusicalmess]

The way Jinx says "Even though I'm... different" in the tea party scene is really just the most viscerally painful voice acting work anyone has ever done, huh.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

country club bathroom part 4

words: 800

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, protected sex

part one / part two / part three / part four

you feel giggly, giddy as rafe has his arm around your shoulder, walking you towards tanneyhill.

you're so out of it, so excited and distracted by the sudden public display of affection that you don't even realize there are other cars sitting in the driveway until you're inside, coming face to face with ward cameron in the entryway.

“this is y/n.” rafe says. he doesn't use any label, but it's clear from how your arm is around his waist, gripping his side, that you're more than friends.

“y/n…” ward mumbles the name, trying to place why you look familiar. “don't you work at the country club?”

“yeah.” you nod, not sure what else to say as the silence stretches, until rafe breaks it by clearing his throat.

“we are uh, seeing each other.” he leaves it at that. 

“boyfriend girlfriend?” ward asks, making you stifle a giggle as you look at rafe, his cheeks turning pink, still embarrassed at being caught by his parent, even if he is a grown adult.

“i mean we haven't worked out the labels yet…” rafe mumbles.

“yes, sir.” you stop rafes rambling. “boyfriend girlfriend.”

“alright…” wards eyes flicker between the two of you. “be safe.” he says before walking away, your eyes widening when you realize what he means.

rafe hurries you up to his room after that, not wanting to encounter any of his other family members.

“did you mean what you said?” rafe cups your cheeks, pressing a peck against your forehead, then nose, then lips.

“about being your girlfriend? i mean you haven't asked me yet sooo…” you mumble, making your intentions clear.

“be my girlfriend? ive known country club workers who have dated members before, as long as it's serious they never get in any trouble.”

your heart warms a little at rafe considering your job, not wanting you to lose what he knows is a precious source of income for you.

“yes.” you nod. “yes, of course ill be your girlfriend.”

“perfect.” rafe hums, pulling you towards his bed. you kick your shoes off before you crawl up, slotting yourself on rafes lap as he lays against the pillows.

“want you so bad.” he mumbles, grabbing your hips and pushing them down into his crotch, dragging you back and forth so you can feel every inch of his length, even through the layers of clothing.

“yeah?” you smirk, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. “because you have me.”

the words send rafe into a spiral, instantly flipping you over, and before you know it, you are both naked, rafe having ripped both of your clothes off, his cock now sliding through your folds, only willing to tease you and take it slow now that you're both naked.

“remember what ward said.” you manage to gasp out, even as the head of his cock pushes against your clit. “be safe.”

“right, fuck.” rafe has to pull away to reach into his bedside table, to grab out a condom.

you take the foil from him the second it's within reach, smirking as you place it between your teeth to rip the packaging open. 

reaching down, you slide it over his length, suddenly looking a lot bigger now that he's going inside of your cunt instead of just in your mouth.

“fuck, your hands are so good.” rafes eyes shut as he hovers over you, your hand stroking up and down his cock. you smile at his clearly blissed out expression that you've seen so many times before. you angle his cock to line it up with your entrance, hand falling away when he begins to push his hips forward.

“oh fuck.” you whine out, arms wrapping around rafes shoulders as you tug him closer. he is slow to bury his cock inside of you, wanting to make sure you have plenty of time to adjust to make up for his lack foreplay, but he just couldn't wait to get inside you.

“m… more. it's okay.” you mumble. “i can take it.”

“mmm, you sure pretty girl?” rafe asks, a smirk playing on his face. when you nod and raise your hips slightly, rafe takes it as his sign, suddenly speeding up and deepening his thrusts. 

“shh, shh.” rafe presses his lips against yours when you moan a little too loud. “the walls aren't completely soundproof.”

he knows you're probably fine, but with sarahs room next door, he doesn't want to take any chances and get caught.

“sorry.” you whimper, still moaning but managing to keep it quieter, even when rafe reaches down and rubs his fingers over your clit, already knowing just how you like it from all the times in the country club bathroom where he flipped up your skirt to touch you.

“gonna have to fuck you somewhere no one else is around.” rafe says. “need to hear your moans.” “so you’re not gonna fuck me at work in the country club bathroom?” you giggle, nails scraping down rafes back.

“oh no.” rafe shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your mouth. “i’m gonna fuck you there too.”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid

[haydardotjpg]

more messy sketches of the disaster bi4bi couple

[somdxr]

wanted to wait a little before i posted this but. oh well

[emry-stars]

Maybe I am having too much fun with this

[everything-else-from-noxx]

i'm currently making my way through the accidental kissing tag for buddie fics and aafjdklafjkdlasjdklafjklsajf

cause what do you mean they love each other so much and their lives fit together so perfectly they just kiss goodbye one day and don't notice until hours later 🥺🥺🥺

[chronicsyd]

oKaY, now that I'm done freaking the fuck out about the new teaser for S2 I didn't actually mention anything specific that I found in it (mainly cuz it is only 12 seconds and I was mainly having gay panic over Vi and Caitlyn) but there are a couple things that did stand out to me:

the outfits are a Significant improvement over what they had previously been wearing under Marcus, like why on earth were the women wearing Dresses? also the beret's be bomb as hell (Jinx will probably start on her "Hat Lady" tirade with Caitlyn lol) (I also want the "You're own WHAT?!" line but i don't think it's happening)

Vi definitely looks begrudging (is the best descriptor i think) in the few frames of this, like she doesn't look all that happy to be in an Enforcer uniform (not that I can blame her, all things considered)

solely based on Caitlyn's face, I can tell we're entering our "Unhinged Caitlyn" era and girl looks ready to be on the warpath to go after Jinx.

the only spoken dialogue is "we've got a few surprises of our own" does she specifically mean Vi here? or a new group of Enforcers all together. or maybe she's being warned to "not underestimate Jinx" and she's saying "we have a few tricks up our sleeve" as a response to it in some fashion.

people think the ginger on the left is Marcus's daughter, i don't think it is, his daughter looked to be around Powder's age in act 1 (around 11ish), and the other looks closer to Vi/Caitlyn's age and i don't think the jump in time (if there is one) would be That significant. (Edit: Actually i think I'm gonna redact my statement on this cuz looking again, Caitlyn does seem to have a more "mature face" to me so there might be a time jump where this particular scene comes up)

Caitlyn is clearly sporting a new hextech rifle to go along with Vi's gauntlets (which clearly have been fixed) (in fact the first shot of the gem is what's going into the gauntlet, from the looks of it)

the small callout to Vi's tutu thingy in her LOL design

the gem placing scene and the glove being moved to reveal Vi are two separate scenes, the gloved hand placing the gem back most definitely belongs to Jayce (seeing as he's probably the only one that knows how to fix it) (Also there's a very clear cut between the two scenes as the second clip's focus is on the upper part of the glove, not the gem)

(Sorry for just completely spamming today, I've just been overall freaking out, lol. god, if I'm This riled up over a 12 second teaser you guys are SO not ready for me when an Actual Trailer get's released! but that's all I have for the time being, se ya!)

[jfleamont]

Hey for your jily muse, out of order <3

Okay this is unforgivable, I know. You sent this prompt over two months ago. TWO. This ask has been sitting in my inbox since the 18th of January, so you probably won't even remember sending this but I promise you I've been thinking about it constantly and waiting to have free time to work on it and I have this tendency to leave things unfinished so this is me working through that as well lol

Without further ado, here it is ❤️

Out of Order - 744 words

Evans is in the boys' bathroom. She's in the boys' bathroom and she's crying.

One of her hands is gripping the sink, while the other fruitlessly wipes the tears that keep escaping.

She hasn't noticed his arrival, and Sirius doesn't bother clearing his throat. “I'm sure there's a perfectly logical reason for this.”

She makes a startled noise and turns to face him, her expression a mixture of anger and sadness. It's comical, really, so Sirius laughs.

“There is,” she mutters as she wipes her nose with the sleeve of her jumper. Her voice lacks the edge she usually aims at him— and at James, too, though Sirius can't help but notice a slight difference there.

He walks towards her and hands her his monogrammed tissue - he's never used it for this purpose specifically, but it has proved to be useful during the occasional prank or after a rough full moon - which she grabs immediately. She doesn't thank him, but he doesn't expect her to.

“Ah well, that's all I needed to know. It's not like you're invading my personal space or something.”

She lifts an eyebrow and eyes him curiously, looking more like her usual self. “I'm sorry, is there a plaque or an inscription that I haven't noticed? Does House Black monogram bathrooms as well as tissues?”

“Not that I'm aware of, no. Don't give my mother ideas, though, she might actually try to do that.”

She makes an attempt at a smile, but it quickly turns into a quiet sob.

“Apparently there can only be one crying girl per bathroom, and Myrtle has claimed the one across the corridor as hers so it's out of order,” she explains as she tries to regain control of her emotions, “and I thought this one was empty since everyone is heading down to watch the match.”

“You were right... for the most part. Why aren't you going then?”

“No reason,” she replies, her voice even, but she's not looking at him.

Sirius thinks he knows why. He suspects it has to do with the good luck kiss that Cornelia Kettleburn gave James at breakfast and how quickly Lily disappeared after that.

“Cool. I'm not going either. Fancy going to the Astronomy tower for a smoke?”

She looks taken aback. “I— wait, why aren't you going?”

In truth Sirius wants to go, and James is going to kill him for this, but lately he's been claiming that he no longer has feelings for Lily, and Sirius hates being lied to, so technically this is just payback.

“James got on my nerves so I'm skipping the match in protest,” he adds with a shrug and it's the truth, because it wouldn't be fair to lie. “So, are we smoking or not? Got a fag I can borrow?”

She's not an idiot: she knows this is an olive branch of sorts. Sirius can tell she's deciding whether to believe him or not; after a moment she sighs, and Sirius knows he's won.

“Haven't you got your own? Merlin, you're cheap,” she says while producing a pack of cigarettes from her satchel and handing it to him, a smirk on her face. He's glad to see that she seems to have calmed down significantly.

“I'm trying to quit so I stopped carrying them around,” he replies and grabs one, putting it in the breast pocket of his vest.

“Looks like it's working,” she notes as she fixes her appearance in front of the mirror and readies herself to leave the room.

“Absolutely.”

“Why are you mad at Potter anyway? Thought you two were inseparable,” she asks as she walks towards the door, a step ahead of him so that he can't see her face.

“Can't tell you, it's a secret.”

She huffs. “You lot are starting to sound ridiculous with all these secrets,” she whips her head towards him, her disapproval clear on her face, though he's almost certain this is just another way of disguising her curiosity. “Is this little group of yours a cult or something?”

“It's a counterculture,” he explains as he exits the bathroom, “how else are we going to beat those bigoted dickheads? The only way to fight a cult is with another cult.”

He's just joking, but the idea doesn't sound half bad to his ears.

Apparently Lily disagrees, because she snorts. Loudly. “Not sure about that logic but you do you, I guess.”

“Thanks for the support.”

“Anytime, Black.”

[wannaeatramyeon]

James Lee/DG with Unhinged F!Reader

He never stood a chance (Gun Park | Goo Kim | Samuel Seo | James Lee/DG)

Out of all your fights, all your opponents. This one definitely left a bitter taste in your mouth. You couldn't even hide the look of disgust on your face.

James Lee, DG, The Legend? Whatever. You held back a yawn as you countered his fist, bending it back painfully until you heard the telltale snap and crack of bone.

That hype? That reputation? The supposed feats with the first generation kings? What a waste.

He barely had time to react as you stomp your foot down on his, your sharpened stiletto piercing through skin and tendon. To think you put these on specially for him.

You rarely get angry during fights, your emotions tending to err on the side of deranged and demented. But this pink haired fool. You suppose you might as well have fun.

DG thought he had eyes and ears on all the notable people in Seoul, even maybe all of South Korea. So when you (dressed to impress, dressed to kill) approached him with a frenzied grin and laser-focused eyes, he thought you were just another fan.

You had peered down at a rough scrap of paper, trying to make out your own sloppy handwriting, now half covered in grime and dried blood.

"Jim, no hold on. James Lee?" you had asked. The man in white didn't answer you, but you noticed the way his body tensed. That was all the acknowledgement you needed before you made the first move.

DG sits with his back against the wall, his breathing laboured and stilted. He was certain he was unable to move - you having broken his wrist, arms, then ankles.

The initial anger on your face certainly alarmed him, but when it eventually melted into a teasing look, his hairs stood on end.

Despite his history, he had never been in the presence of such violence and intimidation before. Years since he had even felt an ounce of threat.

"Tsk," you lean down and roughly grab the back of his head, forcing him to look at you, but his eyes are bleary and focused. "What an anticlimax."

You never thought a man of his reputation could be so delicate. The blood and dirt, swollen cuts and broken bones, all mar his previously pristine appearance. You let out a giggle as you consider leaving some scars on his pretty face, that would be a fun one for this idol to explain.

But your eyes flicker over him. He really is too pathetic to be worth anymore of your malice.

Instead, you place a kiss upon his forehead, relishing in the way his body trembles beneath yours.

You see the red lipstain stain adorning his bruised and battered body and smile.

[stevieharringtonwifeguy]

i keep thinking about my changeling steve au that i posted about here like. What About His Parents

this ended up so long i put it on ao3 too, you can read it here

like steves known he’s a changeling for a few months now, and in that time his parents still haven’t come home. he hasn’t really thought about it, except during his weekly scheduled 3am identity crisis. eddie’s told him that based on what he knows about changelings (just from old stories and things, neither he nor wayne have ever actually met one, which makes him kind of useless as a guru but like. points for trying), their human parents usually have a human baby that gets replaced and they don’t notice until the kid grows up Wrong. honestly, it figures that his parents just never got around to noticing.

at least that’s what he thinks. but one day, he’s walking past his dad’s office, struggling to carry a huge pile of laundry bc he put it off too long and ended up having to wash like literally every piece of clothing he owns. and a tshirt slips right as he passes the door. he reaches out for it on instinct, brushes his hand against the handle, and it hurts. hurts so bad he drops his laundry, instinctively drawing his hand in to cradle the pain. did he overestimate his strength again? he’s been doing that a lot lately, kind of embarrassing to break his hand or something punching a doorknob by accident. but then he looks at his hand, and he doesn’t have the kind of mark he’d expect from just whacking it really hard. it’s red and shiny, like a burn in the exact shape of the doorknob

it’s an iron burn. none of the other knobs in the house are iron.

honestly of all the restrictions placed on him now that he’s become Fully Fae, he thought the iron sensitivity would come up more often. turns out not much is made of iron anymore. all the other doorknobs he’s touched have been aluminum or brass or something. so far the whole ‘needing to be invited in to places’ has been way more annoying. the kids don’t know about the whole fae thing yet and also have no manners, so he’s been doing a lot of loitering outside their open doors until their parents notice and politely invite him in.

he looks at the doorknob again. it doesn’t look like iron. it looks like all the other knobs in the house, sort of light and shiny. he brings his hand near it again, and he can feel the heat coming off it before his skin even touches the metal.

he’s not allowed in his dad’s office. it’s one of the few rules his parents ever enforced, his dad glaring at him if steve happened to be in the hall when he opened the door, like he thought steve would try to make a run into the room in the three seconds of open door time he was given. steve could take a hint, even as a kid.

now though, there’s something prickling at the base of his skull, that new sense he has for something being wrong screaming at him that it’s certainly odd that the one room in the house that he’s not allowed to enter is also the one room in the house with a door he can’t physically touch.

he does what any reasonable fairy would do. abandons his gigantic pile of laundry on the floor and runs downstairs to call a witch.

eddie shows up about five minutes earlier than he reasonably should have, which probably wasn’t magic but instead him fucking flooring it the entire way to steve’s house. he’s got a big messenger bag over his shoulder, and he pulls a smaller bag out of it and displays the bunch of weird bent pins inside with a conspiratorial eyebrow wiggle

‘i have literally always been looking for an excuse to use these. you’re my hero, stevie.’

steve snorts and leads eddie upstairs. the witch kindly doesn’t mention the laundry strewn all over the hallway, just kicks a pair of (clean!!!!) boxers out of the way and kneels down in front of the door, inspecting the knob closely.

‘it doesn’t look like iron.’

‘tell that to my hand, man. i spent the entire time you were driving over here running my hand under cold water and it still fucking hurts.’

eddie hums, absentmindedly grabbing steve’s hand as he continues to squint at the knob. he runs his thumb over the burn mark and the pain is instantly gone.

steve looks at his hand. it’s totally fine, no mark at all. ‘thanks,’ he says, and eddie shoots him a little smile over his shoulder before turning back to the door.

‘no magic on it,’ he mutters. he brings a nail up and scratches lightly at the knob. the silver of it flakes a little, exposing something darker underneath. it’s painted. iron painted to look like the aluminum of the other knobs in the house. steve and eddie exchange frowns.

eddie quickly grabs his picks, shoves them into the lock and wiggling them around for a bit. like a while. steve’s about to tease him for his apparent lack in any actual criminal ability when something clicks, and eddie turns the door handle with a whoop. the door swings open, and eddie sniffs for a minute, like alarm magic has a scent component or something, before shrugging and rushing in.

and steve goes to follow. well, he tries. when he lifts his foot to cross the threshold of the room, something physically stops him. it’s like a strong wind is coming out of the room, blowing back his leg anytime it gets too close. eddie looks back at him in confusion, before his eyes land on something on the doorjamb and his face falls into something cold. steve follows his line of sight and his heart stops for a second.

there’s a small horseshoe nailed to the doorjamb.

until now, steve realises he’d been hoping there was a reasonable explanation for the iron handle. maybe when they were building the house the store ran out of aluminum ones so his dad just got an iron one because it looked the most similar, something like that. but there’s no reason for the horseshoe. no reason except that someone wanted to keep fae out of this room. which means whoever put it there knew fae entering this room was a risk.

his parents fucking knew what he was. they just never said or did anything about it. nothing except block off this room.

eddie shifts a little in the middle of the room. ‘steve?’ he asks. his voice is soft, hesitant, like he’s trying not to spook a wild animal. ‘are you okay?’

steve wrenches his eyes away from the horseshoe, focusses on his feet. when he catches a glimpse of his clenched fists by his hips, he realises he’s glowing again, sparks dancing up and down his veins and lighting him up from the inside like a human lava lamp. well, not so human. that’s the problem.

he takes a deep breath to get his magic under control before he accidentally lights something on fire. looks up to eddie, still standing in the middle of the office like he doesn’t know what to do. ‘he’s hiding something in here. find it.’

part of steve, the human part, feels bad for ordering his friend around like that. but eddie just nods with determination, rooting around in his bag for something.

‘i’m not sensing any secrecy charms or alarms or anything in here, which means i can use...’ he takes a travel mug out of the bag and brandishes it with a flourish. ‘this!’

steve snorts. ‘a cup of coffee?’

eddie rolls his eyes, shaking the mug for a second and then opening it to check on the contents. ‘it’s a brewed spell. it shows hidden things.’

‘and you put it in a travel mug?’

‘oh i’m sorry, i was running a little low on fuckin’. crystal flasks. what the hell else was i supposed to put it in?’

‘i just thought with your whole... satanist metalhead deal you’d be a little more dedicated to the witchy aesthetic.’

eddie huffs, grumbles something that sounds suspiciously like i’ll show you witchy aesthetic, before upending the travel mug onto the floor.

what comes out isn’t really liquid, more like the soupy fog that comes out of a fog machine, except it’s a pleasant sage green colour. the fog quickly covers the whole room, before seeming to pool in two areas: one under the desk and another over the little throw rug in the middle of the room.

‘okay, we got two hidden things, which one are we checking out first?’

steve considers. ‘the desk one is probably just boring shit. pictures of his mistress, or, i dunno, evidence of tax fraud or something. try the rug.’

eddie nods decisively, throwing back the rug and inspecting the wooden floorboards until he finds one that seems a little loose. he pulls it back with a bit of a grunt, and immediately sticks his hand down there and starts rummaging around like he wouldn’t start screaming bloody murder the second a spider touched his hand. after a moment, he makes a triumphant sound, and pulls out a book.

it looks old, maybe a hundred years or so, and steve has the fleeting thought that if nancy found out his dad had been keeping a fragile antique book under the floorboards, she’d probably rip him that new one she’s been threatening since steve brought her to a family dinner and his dad called her ‘lower middle class’ like it was a bad thing.

‘it’s a grimoire,’ eddie says, sitting cross-legged on the floor and gently opening the book. at steve’s confused silence, he adds, ‘a spellbook. sort of. looks like this one isn’t a witch’s grimoire, it’s mostly human magic, judging by the table of contents.’

‘i thought regular humans couldn’t do magic.’

‘they can’t do like, spells. but there’s little stuff, especially when it comes to dealing with other creatures. like, uh,’ a pained look crosses his face as he inclines his head to the horseshoe still denying steve entry. ‘the horseshoe. technically magic. if they’d just hung it for like, decoration, it wouldn’t keep you out. there’s gotta be intent behind it.’

steve huffs, glaring at the horseshoe. ‘so what, they figured out i was a changeling and they got a whole book to figure out how to herd me like a sheep?’

eddie winces at steve’s tone, but hey, who can blame him. this is a lot. ‘maybe. there’s a lot of stuff about fae in here. descriptions of types, etiquette stuff, protections- oh shit.’

steve snaps his head back to eddie, who’s currently staring at the book like a spider’s just crawled out of the binding. then he seems to gather himself, muttering furiously under his breath as he flips through the pages, no more care shown for the book’s antiquity. ‘what is it?’

eddie settles on a page towards the back of the book, reading through with a furious look on his face. he gets up, walks over to steve still standing helplessly in the doorway, and thrusts the book towards him. steve looks down.

the words are a little hard to read, handwritten with spidery loops and the ink a little faded, but steve eventually gets the gist.

it’s instructions for summoning a changeling child.

steve, stupid, forgiving steve, thinks for a moment that this isn’t so bad. maybe his parents couldn’t have biological kids or something and this seemed like their only option. weird to not just adopt a human child, but whatever. and then he reads the paragraph extolling the virtues of having a changeling in the house- how they bring good luck, how they have a nose for finding treasures, and he realises no. his parents never wanted a kid (like he didn’t already know that), they wanted a superpowered pet. the final nail in the coffin is when he reads that the summoning process involves a human child, too. they’d had their own kid at one point, biologically or adopted, and they’d traded them in for a newer, more exciting model probably without a second thought.

and then they’d abandoned the newer model too.

steve barely even realises when he sets the book on fire, the glow that’s been simmering under his skin since he first saw the horseshoe spilling out from his fingertips in a shower of sparks. eddie doesn’t even really react, just calmly bats the flaming book out of steve’s hands and uses one of the sweaters littering the ground to smother the fire. he doesn’t mention the way the lights are flickering, pulsing light so strongly they’re in danger of blowing out. just softly wraps his arms around steve’s torso, murmuring gentle words into the crook of his neck as he strokes his hair.

the first tears that fall from steve’s eyes dissolve into harmless sparks of light against eddie’s shoulder. eddie doesn’t seem to mind, just keeps stroking steve’s hair as he whispers that it’s okay, eddie’s there, eddie’s got him.

steve doesn’t know how long they stand there like that. when he pulls back to wipe his eyes, his light-tears are still hanging in the air around them like an asteroid belt made of hundreds of little still fireflies. eddie pokes one. it glows brighter.

rubbing his face, steve sighs, waves the lights away with a motion of his hand. eddie looks put out for a second, before catching the determined look in steve’s eye and watching him warily.

‘what are you going to do?’ he asks, a little apprehensively.

‘i’m going to call my dad,’ steve replies, stalking off towards the stairs before eddie can even get out a strangled ‘okay?’

steve’s already punched in the number for his dad’s office by the time eddie catches up. his secretary picks up, asks who’s calling, and steve musters all the charm he can to try and convince her to put him through. she usually doesn’t, apologetically explains that his dad’s in a meeting, or out of the office, or swamped with work, or a hundred other excuses, but that she’ll tell him steve called and he’ll get back to him as soon as possible. he never does. steve’s not sure if she knows that; the guilt in her voice could just as easily be because she’s sleeping with him and feels bad for ruining their ‘perfect family’.

either way, steve’s not taking chances. he’s never tried to magically charm someone over the phone before, doesn’t even do it much in person either, it feels skeevy (although he has gotten out of a suspicious amount of detentions, even before he fully came into his magic. whoops.). but wouldn’t you know, this time she says he’s called at the perfect time, his dad’s just got out of a meeting and she’s sure he’d be thrilled to hear from his loving son. steve has to physically bite back a cutting remark as she puts him through.

for all his rage, steve doesn’t really remember much of this conversation. he talks like he’s in a fugue state, his brain packing everything away into some dark corner of his mind the second after it’s said, focussing instead on the way eddie’s face gets steadily more distressed where he can see it out of the corner of his eye.

he knows he asks his dad to come home so they can talk about something important. he knows his dad scoffs, tells him he can’t possibly come home right now and steve can’t possibly have anything to say that’s so important he can’t say it over the phone. knows he tells his dad he found the book under the floorboards. knows the silence on the other end of the phone is so loud it’s deafening.

the rest of it is fuzzy. honestly, it probably goes exactly how he expected it was going to go. there’s some yelling, some accusations, his dad calls him a disappointment once or ten times. and at the end of it his dad tells him if he’s going to be so ungrateful he can pack his bags and get out of the house the real harringtons are paying for.

eddie hangs up the phone for him when he hears that. hard not to hear it, the way harrington sr. is screaming through the phoneline. if steve tried hard enough, he could probably still hear him yelling all the way from indianapolis, and he probably wouldn’t even need to use magic.

they stand in silence for a moment. steve staring at the phone, eddie staring at steve. and then steve feels an itch under his skin.

he’s no longer welcome in this house.

he’s got a couple minutes before the nausea sets in, probably, so he books it upstairs to fit as much of his shit in his sports bag as he can fit. it’s mainly clothes. god knows he doesn’t give a shit about any of the things his parents- no, mr. and mrs. harrington- picked out for his perfect boy’s room. there’s the walkie, a couple gifts from the kids. that’s it.

and then he’s out, stumbling a little over the threshold when the magic finally locks in and physically boots him from the house. eddie’s following behind, frantically grabbing his bag and his jacket as he shouts for steve’s attention.

‘what, you’re just gonna leave? immediately? you can take more time to get your stuff-’

‘no,’ steve says, the word ripping itself from his throat, short and harsh. ‘‘no i can’t actually. don’t have an invitation.’

and isn’t that look on eddie’s face heartbreaking. steve doesn’t want to cry out here- it’s a little early for firefly season and the lights would get too much attention. so he throws his bags in the backseat of the beamer, gets in the driver’s seat, and just. sits for a second.

eddie gets in next to him, gives him a gentle look. ‘are you alright?’

steve snorts, giving eddie a side-eye.

‘yeah, okay, fair,’ eddie replies with a weak huff of a laugh. ‘you got a plan?’

shit. no he didn’t, actually. ‘i mean, worst comes to worst, i guess i could sleep in a tree? i just figured out how to get in one, pretty good timing, huh?’

eddie looks at him like he’s grown a second head. not impossible, but steve thinks he’d notice. ‘sleep in a tree? what the hell does that mean?’

steve shrugs. ‘like, just climb inside. it’s kinda like putting on a jacket, really, but like. 360 degrees. could probably only do that to sleep, though, i haven’t really figured out how to not like, become the tree. And trees don’t really do anything, so it just makes me sleepy.’

eddie continues to stare at him a second before he shakes his head dramatically, like a dog getting out of a bath. steve huffs a laugh despite himself. ‘whatever, don’t sleep in a tree man, that’s crazy. you can stay at mine, if you want.’

‘what?’

eddie shrugs. ‘i mean, it’s no 360 degree jacket, but it’s nice. lots of amenities that trees don’t offer: shower, stove, tv, et cetera.’

‘that’s-’ that’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever offered him. eddie’s looked out for him since he came into his magic, and they’re friends, yeah, but this is... so much. he’s been to eddie’s place, knows he doesn’t have a lot of space, but he’s still offering to share it with steve, so easily it’s like it’s not even a question whether he’s welcome. steve can’t accept. ‘what about wayne?’

eddie just snorts. ‘dude, excepting, like, me being his nephew/adopted son whom he loves dearly, he likes you like. way better than me. you’re the little sports son he never had. frankly if he found out you’d been kicked out and i didn’t offer to give you a place to stay he’d probably kick me out. well, no he wouldn’t. but he would give me that ‘im not mad im just disappointed’ look and that sucks too.’

‘you’d do that?’ and steve hates how small his voice sounds right now. he’s had a day.

but eddie just looks at him with those big, gentle eyes of his. says ‘of course’ like there’s no other response he could give. so steve smiles. thanks him softly, and drives them to the munson trailer. neither of them mention the firefly-tears that fill the car like fairy lights strung from the ceiling.

and they get to the trailer. eddie offers steve his bed, and they argue good-naturedly about it until they both give up and settle in together, eddie petting steve’s hair as they cuddle in a way that’s probably not all that platonic, but neither of them seem to care. it’s nice. soft.

it’s ruined a bit when eddie sits bolt upright with a ‘shit! my van’s still in loch nora!’ but the way they both laugh so hard they can’t breathe is nice too.

steve’s only been here for a few hours, and he’s already never felt more at home.

and here’s the tags! this is literally the first time anyone has asked me to tag them for more, thank you for making me feel like a celebrity lol

@fairytalesreality @swimmingbirdrunningrock

[assassins-and-hidden-blades]

hello!! can you please write a drabble for connor with an s/o who just finished their last final, and now they just want to nap and cuddle with him? gender neutral please! thank you!!

05/03/2024: Hello! First ask of the year! I certainly can try, friend! Thanks for your undying patience! Shit has happened, bros, but I've just been re-reading my old fics and they've brought me some long lost joy, so I am trying to make a comeback! (Please reblog this so people know I'm posting again -- with evidence!) This is a perfect thing to write on the day of my exam results (we passed, guys!) so now I can reflect on the traumatising experience that was exam season.

The Complete Masterlist

Finally (Connor x GN!Reader)

You put down your pen with a sigh of relief.

Finally, it was all over.

These last few weeks were torture; hours of studying a day, taking a break only to eat or to steal some hours of restless sleep. Your brain fried while you studied, and you half wondered how you made it through exam season alive.

A few hours ago, you were on the verge of throwing up your breakfast. Now, as you turned the lock to your apartment door, you could only feel intense fatigue. Gentle noises from the kitchen put a smile on your face. Connor was never a loud person, in both words and actions.

"I'm back," you announced, entering the kitchen to find Connor making two cups of tea.

"Y/n," he greeted with a reassuring smile. "How was it?"

"Not terrible, but could've been better," you shrugged. At this point, you really couldn't care. It was over, and that's all that mattered. A yawn overcame you. "Tired now, though."

Connor nodded, pouring water from the freshly boiled kettle. "I made us some tea. What would you like to do to celebrate?"

You thanked him gratefully, moving to take your favourite mug off of the counter. "Honestly? Can we go back to bed for a while? I want to sleep these past few weeks off."

"Of course." He followed you as you led the way to your shared bedroom. Teas placed on the bedside counters, you changed into some comfier clothes and all but collapsed into bed. Connor climbed in with slightly more tact, and you crawled into his arms. He pulled you close with one hand and opened a book he was reading with the other.

His thumb gently traced the skin of your arm, soothing and constant. It wasn't long before your eyelids began to close, fluttering in time to his heartbeat.

Sleep came soon after.

[camels-pen]

fellow tumblr people! i have a very important question: does anyone know the ship name for zoro / usopp / nami? or if there even is a ship for them