#stay tuned for that next wednesday!

[tanjir0se]

As the World Caves In, pt II

Pairings: Rengiyuu (Rengoku x Giyuu) Words: 5.4k (7.8k total) Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Everybody Lives AU Warnings: (full fic) Graphic depictions of canon-typical violence, medical procedures, blood, bodily injury

If you let him live, I’ll tell him everything, I swear. 

It was now or ever. And now he’d gotten so close to never, closer than he’d ever thought he’d get in all his wildest nightmares, that the unbridled fear of it now carried the words unspoken up his windpipe, threatening to burst. 

“K-Kyojuro,” Giyuu began. And Kyojuro looked at him with those stunning, earnest eyes--eye--and Giyuu’s next words fell from his mouth in a huff. “Damn it,”

This is part 2/2. Read the previous part here!

You can also read the full fic on AO3!!

“You ought to be more careful, my friend!” Kyojuro chided as he unbuttoned Giyuu’s uniform. “Look, you’ve ruined another uniform shirt!” He was referring to the large slash on the shoulder of Giyuu’s uniform, courtesy of the demon they’d just taken down together. Though they’d only known each other a few months at that point, Giyuu had learned that Kyojuro apparently preferred to dress his wounds himself despite Giyuu being fully capable, and he knew Kyojuro better than to try to argue. 

He said nothing while Kyojuro frowned at his bare and bloody chest, appraising the long but superficial wound that spanned across his pale skin, coming to a stop at the hollow of his throat. He did tilt his head slightly back to allow Kyojuro to inspect the full extent of the wound, his quiet way of thanking him. Kyojuro hummed to himself. His golden eyes suddenly flicked from Giyuu’s wound to his face, stealing away Giyuu’s breath in a surprised huff. 

“Does this hurt?” he asked, abruptly serious. Giyuu shook his head. Rengoku had a habit of making him lose his train of thought when he looked at him like that. “You shouldn’t have jumped in front of me. I would have been alright!”

Giyuu stared at him. The demon they’d been fighting had prepared one vicious strike right after another, while Rengoku had been finding his footing from the previous. Rather than allow the strike to land on the Flame Hashira, Giyuu had stepped in with dead calm, both sparing Kyojuro from the attack and causing it to fall on himself. 

To Giyuu, his actions made perfect sense. Kyojuro was obviously the superior Hashira. He felt it only natural to protect the greater asset to the demon slayer corps, even if it meant putting his life on the line. 

Kyojuro raised an eyebrow and cracked a small grin. “I know that look.” He said. It was the look Giyuu did when he was about to try to argue with him on something: brows slightly furrowed, gaze steady with heavy lids, lips parted. Realizing he was caught, Giyuu relaxed into a half smile and allowed Kyojuro to gently dab dirt and debris away from his wound. 

“You may be reckless,” Kyojuro began, “But I have to admit, that eleventh form is incredible! How on earth did you learn something like that? Ah, I bet I could practice for a hundred years and never even get close!” His gaze now focused on Giyuu’s wound, he didn’t notice how bright pink his friend’s face had become. Kyojuro spoke highly of everyone, but praise of his swordsmanship coming from someone as incredible as him was still a high compliment. 

Kyojuro continued. “Such fantastic work, I’m truly lucky to be on your good side!” He laughed and patted Giyuu’s chest with one hand and retrieved a first aid kit with a suture needle with the other. His hand was rough but warm against Giyuu’s permanently cold skin. 

“For now.” Giyuu joked back. Kyojuro blinked once, surprised and a little disbelieving that Giyuu had actually cracked a joke, but after noticing the tiny upward tilt of his lips, smiled even wider and laughed even harder. 

“I’d better toe the line then! Otherwise I’ll be the one needing stitches!” He laughed at his own joke while stitching his wound and Giyuu actually smiled along. Few could melt through his icy silences like Kyojuro could. Few understood what he was trying to say even when he was silent like Kyojuro did. “Ah, you always know how to make me laugh.” Kyojuro added with a sigh that made Giyuu’s heart ache. 

Kyojuro’s half-open eyes saw white, made hazy by tears clinging to his dark lashes. White drifted above him, and for a moment he drifted with it, unaware that he was even conscious, just floating. Once his mind returned to him he tried to blink to dispel the haze but found himself unable, paralyzed, flat on his back and floating through nothingness. For a few moments he believed himself to be dead. Until the pain struck him. 

He considered himself no stranger to pain, but this was unlike anything else. His entire body felt shattered. Even something as simple as breathing was a battle, as if his lungs and the walls of his chest themselves were locked in combat against one another. If he was indeed dead, this must be hell. 

He thought so, until he heard a distant voice reaching to him from beyond the endless white oblivion around him. There were gentle hands on him, as if bringing him out of the haze and back into reality. 

Someone was cradling the back of his head, tilting it slightly upward as they removed bandages from the left side of his face. The light changed slightly as they did so, though nothing came into focus. Fingers brushed lightly over his left eye. Whoever the hands belonged to, whoever was nursing him, sighed. 

The bandages were replaced. A warm rag brushed against the aching skin of his arms. A hand rested lightly against his chest, directly over his heart, feeling it beating steadily. Kyojuro still couldn’t move or speak but whoever was tending to him apparently didn’t mind. The voice was silent while they worked but the silence was as gentle as their hands. That silence, its softness, the coolness of the hands on his body reminded him of something…

The haze slowly began to lift, as if his nurse’s gentle tending was pulling him back up out of the nothingness and into reality. As his mind cleared he groped for anything to anchor him back to the present; he remembered a cold wind, a column of flames. 

“Another letter from Tanjiro today.” His nurse said quietly over the rustle of papers. “And…one from Uzui.” 

Kyojuro would have leapt out of bed, if he could move. The kids! The train! The upper rank! I’ve got to get back there!  Kyojuro wanted to reach out, tell the speaker I don’t care about a bunch of letters when Tanjiro and the others could be in danger— 

A letter from Tanjiro? He’s alright?

“Uzui’s letter first, then?” The voice said. More rustling of paper. A clearing of the throat. “Dear Rengoku, I apologize for my absence, since this damn mission is taking longer than I expected, I’m absolutely certain you’re beside yourself with grief that yours truly isn’t there with you—” the speaker scoffed, and Kyojuro would have laughed too, if he could move. “Anyways, I’ll spare you the non-flashy details and regale you with the full story when I can see you again. Please get better soon, the mansion is too boring without you. Tengen.” 

In full earnest now, and with little else to do but lie there, Kyojuro tried to remember what had happened. The last image he could conjure was the electric flashing of blue and pink, a crazed laugh, and distantly, someone crying and calling his name. 

He assumed he was recovering in the butterfly mansion, but how long had it been since he’d fallen unconscious? Long enough that he was getting letters. He wondered if he’d gotten any from Senjuro. Or Giyuu. 

Giyuu. 

He’d just been dreaming about Giyuu. One of the first times he’d noticed Giyuu blushing at him, one of the many times Giyuu had made him laugh. That’s what the silence had reminded him of. With great difficulty, with everything he had, Kyojuro managed to grunt softly. 

Halfway through Tanjiro’s letter, the voice stopped. Even unable to see, Kyojuro could feel eyes on him, knew them to be deep and indigo and discerning. He sucked in a labored breath against the pain wrapping around his ribs, and this time managed a groan. 

“Kyojuro?” 

God I’d know that voice anywhere. 

Kyojuro’s eyes slid closed, then open once again, still heavy-lidded, still teary, but open. The fog around him lifting, the first thing he saw was his nurse, pale skin, a mess of raven black hair and a set of indigo eyes. 

In spite of everything, he smiled. “Giyuu,” he murmured. 

Giyuu felt his heart stop in his chest, his relief so intense it nearly paralyzed him. Kyojuro was looking at him. Kyojuro was alive. His world had crashed back into orbit again. He grabbed his friend by the arms and held him there tightly, desperate not to let him go again. 

“Kyo! God—” Thank god, thank god you’re alright! I was so worried, I was lost without you! His throat was so tight he could hardly breathe let alone speak. “You’re awake.” He managed stupidly after a moment. Kyojuro opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out for a moment. For once, Giyuu actually spoke instead. “Kyo…” he found himself saying again. 

Kyojuro lifted his head and tried to sit up, straining against the unbelievable pain that shook his entire body. He caught a glimpse of a large, blood-shadowed bandage over his abdomen before his forehead suddenly bumped into Giyuu. He must’ve been closer than he’d thought. The unexpected bump sent him back down against the bed with a groan. Giyuu still hadn’t taken his hands off of his arms. 

“Please don’t try to get up.” Giyuu murmured. “Your depth perception is probably quite off.” 

Kyojuro frowned at him and opened his mouth to ask why he’d say that, but another bright pulse of pain behind his left eye answered the question for him. Giyuu watched him with an expression Kyojuro had never seen him wear. His eyes were wide, tearful, endless. His pale lower lip trembled along with his hands, though he didn’t say anything.  There was about a million things Kyojuro could ask: What happened? Where are the kids? How long has it been? He decided on something different. 

“Kyo, huh?” He asked, his lips turning slightly upward into a smile. Giyuu stared. “Where’d that come from? I like it.”

Leave it to Kyojuro to say something like that at a time like this. That little smile on Kyojuro’s lips made Giyuu want to smile with him, to laugh and grab him tightly and never let him go. But he remembered the feeling of those lips against his, the taste of blood as he breathed for him, and the beginnings of his smile faltered. He came so close to never seeing that smile again. The weight of that knowledge pressed down on his shoulders so heavily that Giyuu dropped his head down and pressed his forehead against Kyojuro’s arm, as if in prayer. Overcome. 

Kyojuro watched him and his heart ached. He’d never seen Giyuu this upset, or at least he’d never shown it this plainly. It seemed like a fairly strong reaction to a simple battlefield injury…there must be something more to this situation he didn’t understand. He called Giyuu’s name softly and waited for him to look up. “I’m alright.” Kyojuro said, softly for once, his throat dry and raw. “It’s alright.”

Giyuu looked up. “No, Kyo, you’re not. You were dead.” His brows fell heavily over his eyes in apparent anger. “I had to beat your heart for you, I—I had to breathe for you!” His voice was low, tightly measured because if he spoke any louder or with any more ferocity he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep tears from falling. 

There was a brief silence while Kyojuro appeared to consider what he’d said. “And the train passengers? The kids?” 

Giyuu’s eyes briefly widened in shock, but his brows were quick to pull down again. “Are you not hearing me? You were dead. It’s nothing short of a miracle that you aren’t dead now!” Kyojuro looked at him, still waiting for his answer. Giyuu’s frown deepened but the quiver in his lower lip betrayed him. “Will you worry about yourself, just for one moment?” 

Though Giyuu had pulled away, Kyojuro still found an errant strand of his hair to curl between his fingers. “Why would I do that, when you do it so well?”

“Kyojuro, please.” Giyuu begged. “You—” he dropped his gaze again and struggled to conjure the words he meant. “You’ve been in a coma for more than three months. An upper rank had his arm through your solar plexus!” Kyojuro managed to look down at that shadowed bandage on his stomach, then back up at Giyuu as he continued.

“Kyo, you may never wield a sword again. You came very close to never breathing again! And I—” he snapped his mouth shut and averted his gaze from Kyojuro’s. 

Still fighting through shockwaves of pain, Kyojuro watched as Giyuu stared at the bandage on his stomach. “Giyuu.” He said gently, cautiously. He knew Giyuu to have a temper, but he was acting differently than Kyojuro had ever seen, like there was something he needed to say but couldn’t find the words. “If I would have died, I would have done so gladly! It’s the risk we take as demon slayers—” he fell into silence as Giyuu looked back up again, his eyes filled with tears. 

“Am I supposed to have been glad, too?” He asked bitterly. “You talk about yourself like your life is not worth anything! As if—” he stopped again. His breaths were coming faster and faster now. Giyuu did not continue, so Kyojuro did. 

“My life isn’t worth any more than anyone else’s…” he began. Apparently on a roll of surprising him, Giyuu cut him off. 

“Well it isn’t worth any less, either!” He exclaimed, not shouting, but with an intensity that rivaled Kyojuro’s. “God you remind me of Sabito!” He added in a huff. 

That stopped Kyojuro dead, all attempts at argument shut down. Giyuu never mentioned his family. Not even silently. He’d only learned he’d had a sister after they’d already known each other for more than a year. Sabito and Makomo he only learned of through Urokodaki. He watched Giyuu’s face and waited for him to continue. He did, though silently. 

Giyuu looked down and shook his head, his brow furrowed. You’re making this so difficult. Kyojuro watched his jaw clench and unclench, his mouth opening for a moment before clamping shut again. I need to tell you something. Fat, heavy tears fell from his eyes and onto the backs of his hands, which tightened themselves onto the blanket near Kyojuro’s forearm. It’s killing me. 

Looking down, head bowed, Giyuu was thinking of the bargain he’d made. If you let him live, I’ll tell him everything. He felt as overwhelmed as he was when he’d first come to the horrific scene at the train crash, his world spinning. His foolish and hopeful and frightened heart cracked deeper and deeper and threatened to come apart altogether as he tried to find the words to make Kyojuro understand.   

It was a long time before Giyuu spoke aloud again, and when he did, his voice shook. 

“Kyojuro.” he finally said. “You think to be brave is to be selfless. As if you have no regard at all for your own life. That isn’t bravery. It’s self destruction.” He remembered the feeling of Kyojuro’s ribs snapping beneath his hands. He remembered feeling Sabito’s, too. He couldn’t meet Kyojuro’s gaze, knowing without trying that the look he found there would burn his resolve away in an instant.

“You may think your life isn’t worth more than anyone else’s, but—” closing his eyes, Giyuu breathed out a sigh. “It is. To me.”

That was a surprise. Kyojuro stared at him, his shaking hands and the gaze that refused to meet his. He was even more surprised to find a faint pink blush spreading over Giyuu’s cheeks and nose. 

They fell into silence while Kyojuro watched Giyuu’s blush deepen. 

He’d always loved Giyuu the same way he loved anyone or anything else: loudly. My friend, how wonderful to see you! You always know how to make me laugh! Every compliment, every smile, Kyojuro was saying it over and over without ever saying it. I love you I love you I love you. 

But Giyuu had never been the type to do anything aloud. He loved quietly, privately, almost invisibly if someone wasn’t paying attention. Knowing his order at their udon cart without asking. Stepping in front of him to spare him a strike from a demon. Gripping onto the blankets of his cot, unwilling to meet his eye, unwilling to let go. I love you I love you I love you. 

Kyojuro was more than glad to allow their I love yous to remain unsaid, unspoken but still there, always there. He had become fluent in Giyuu’s body language, the soft silence that fell between them when they were together. 

But now the silence was uneasy with tension, as if there was something aching to be said. 

If you let him live, I’ll tell him everything, I swear. 

It was now or ever. And now he’d gotten so close to never, closer than he’d ever thought he’d get in all his wildest nightmares, that the unbridled fear of it now carried the words unspoken up his windpipe, threatening to burst. 

“K-Kyojuro,” Giyuu began. And Kyojuro looked at him with those stunning, earnest eyes--eye--and Giyuu’s next words fell from his mouth in a huff. “Damn it,” he cursed, moving as he spoke, finally releasing the blanket and grabbing instead onto Kyojuro’s arm. 

Before Kyojuro could ask what he needed to say, Giyuu had closed the distance between them, taken him gently but quickly by the sides of his face, and kissed him.

Kyojuro was so surprised he didn’t have time to move or react, just let Giyuu kiss him, his hands gripping tightly onto the sore sides of his bandaged face. Eyes wide open Kyojuro watched Giyuu’s brow pull up, his eyes tightly shut as if in great pain. 

And he was. Giyuu had never felt such agony, such elation, such horror at feeling Kyojuro’s lips on his again. It had never occurred to him until that moment that Kyojuro may not feel the same as he did, that his friend—could he call him a friend?—may be shocked, or worse, disgusted. But he couldn’t bring himself to care, now that Kyojuro’s lips didn’t taste like blood anymore. 

The ecstasy of finally letting out what had been clawing up the inside of his throat since the first moment he ever laid eyes on Kyojuro, bright and beautiful in the Master’s garden, and the fear of losing him, the trauma of coming very close, raged a battle in his chest that crashed through the rest of his body until he finally was forced to pull away, gasping. 

Kyojuro didn’t dare speak, just watched as Giyuu slowly let his breath out and leaned back. 

“I can’t lose anyone else I love.” Giyuu concluded. His voice was no louder than a whisper and yet it echoed through the room as if he’d shouted it. The fear eventually coming out on top in the battle raging in his aching heart, Giyuu tried to move fully away, to stand and brush off his haori and regain whatever dignity he had left. Once again Kyojuro’s hand came down on his wrist, stopping his escape. 

Kyojuro stared into his face until Giyuu looked at him, marveling at what he’d just done. Kyojuro had known for a long time that he loved Giyuu. And he’d known that in his own, quiet way, Giyuu loved him too. But now he’d said the quiet part out loud. What bravery it must’ve taken. Kyojuro looked at Giyuu’s lips, pale and thin and pressed into a hard, nervous line. He looked down and stared at Giyuu’s wrist in his hand. He released it, but captured Giyuu’s hand instead. 

He kissed the back of Giyuu’s hand, his fingers, the inside of his wrist, the back of his forearm, pulling him down and down again until their faces were inches from each other, indigo eyes meeting gold. All those times he’d watched Giyuu flush pink at something he’d said, all the tiny moments he’d noticed the tiny changes of expression on his face, and Kyojuro had never dreamed of kissing him. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he’d accepted long ago that they would always share something unspoken, and that would be enough. 

They stared at one another, breathing heavy. Giyuu watched as Kyojuro’s eye traveled down his face and landed on his lips before Kyojuro pulled him down far enough to kiss him back. 

It was as if he’d never been injured in the first place. All the pain that had rattled his ribs just moments prior was gone and it was a hundred times worse. His chest no longer ached and it ached more intensely than ever before. In fact he’d never felt more aflame, Giyuu’s icy cold lips on his burned away any other thought besides Giyuu’s name. 

He felt Giyuu take a breath and relax against him. He felt his lips part slightly beneath his. And then in spite of himself, in spite of everything, Kyojuro smiled. 

Giyuu felt Kyojuro’s lips turn upwards against his, then felt him shake slightly as he began to laugh. Giyuu opened his eyes and found Kyojuro’s closed in joy, his head thrown back as far as he could manage while still lying in a cot, laughter beginning to peel from him like church bells. If it were anyone else, Giyuu would assume they were mocking him. But not Kyojuro. 

“What could you possibly be laughing at?” Giyuu murmured, resting his hand on Kyojuro’s cheek. Kyojuro tried to stifle his giggles and Giyuu realized how red his friend’s face had become. 

“All that time,” Kyojuro began with a sigh. “All that time I wanted to kiss you…Who knew I had to do was die!” He laughed again despite the pain in his stomach. Giyuu frowned at him, trying very hard to be serious. 

“That isn’t funny.” He chided. Kyojuro just laughed harder, louder, stronger, as if Giyuu’s kiss had healed him. Giyuu rolled his eyes, but for once he didn’t think about how close he’d come to never hearing that laugh again. He didn’t think about how Kyojuro’s eyes had been staring blankly up at nothing, how his golden skin had paled and his chest fallen still. That laugh was like the sun parting through clouds, and for once Giyuu just sighed and chuckled with him. The sound of his laughter made Kyojuro laugh even harder until they both devolved into giggles. 

Since Kyojuro’s laughter was both very distinctive and quite loud, it was bound to attract attention as other inhabitants of the butterfly mansion began to follow the sound. Giyuu leapt nearly a foot in the air when he heard a voice from behind him. 

“Mr. Rengoku?” Giyuu quickly moved back from Kyojuro, who released his hand, though both relaxed when they saw Tanjiro standing in the doorway, his eyes already filled with tears. “Mr. Rengoku!” Tanjiro shouted, and sprinted forward. 

“Young Kamado!” Kyojuro grinned at the way Giyuu moved back to allow Tanjiro in beside him. “Ah, how good to see you!” 

All Tanjiro managed to say was his name as his eyes welled with tears. Kyojuro put his hand on his head. “Don’t cry, I’m alright!” He said softly. “Besides, I don’t want you tearing that belly wound open again!” 

Tanjiro looked up, then at Giyuu, whose face was neutral and measured. “Mr. Rengoku, my stomach is all healed. It’s been three months.” 

“Ah. So it has.” Kyojuro shifted and tried to get a better look at the boy. Without speaking, or having been asked, Giyuu slid his arm beneath Kyojuro’s shoulders to help him sit up. 

Tanjiro couldn’t help but let out another sob. “I’m so glad you’re alright! Mr. Tomioka hasn’t left your side since you got here!” Though escaping Tanjiro’s notice, Giyuu went bright pink and set his jaw. Kyojuro grinned at him. 

“That doesn’t surprise me at all.” He said softly, speaking to Tanjiro but looking at Giyuu as he helped him settle in the new, more upright position.  

Next to follow the sound was Shinobu herself, who was so surprised upon appearing in the doorway to find Kyojuro looking up adoringly at Giyuu, holding him by the shoulders, his face bright pink, that she actually froze for a moment. It did not take her long to realize what Giyuu had done, and she smiled, blinking away tears. Finally. 

Then she put her hands on her hips, blinked the tears away, and gave Giyuu the chiding of a lifetime for daring not to tell her that Kyojuro had awoken. Inosuke appeared next, already yelling, leaping onto the foot of Kyojuro’s bed and declaring Kyojuro the master of death itself. Zenitsu was quick to follow, carrying a half-awake and tiny Nezuko with him. Once her bright eyes fell onto Kyojuro’s she leapt from Zenitsu’s arms and joined Inosuke on the foot of Kyojuro’s bed, her delighted voice muffled by her muzzle but still clearly excited. 

Any Hashira who wasn’t on a mission joined them. Mitsuri’s bright—if shrill—sobs of joy briefly drowned out anyone else’s attempt at speech, Sanemi sternly but firmly put his hand on Kyojuro’s shoulder, his jaw clenched tightly, Gyomei offered a prayer of gratitude. But the room stopped when Senjuro arrived. He stared at Kyojuro in the doorway for a long moment, as if disbelieving that he was really awake and breathing. It took both Shinobu and Giyuu to keep Kyojuro from leaping out of bed to greet him. Senjuro ended up sitting on the bed beside his brother, handing him letters that Giyuu had handed him and helping Kyojuro catch up on three months’ worth of missed correspondence. 

It was only then that Kyojuro’s attention was jarred enough from Giyuu to look around at the scene surrounding his sickbed. On a table behind Giyuu was a stack of letters, cards, and notes. Beside the letters were gifts, wrapped in colorful paper or fabric, stacks upon stacks of bento, boxes of candy, several vases of flowers, several more wilted bouquets of lying on the floor beside his table. All of it had been carefully organized; The notes had all been gently unfolded and stacked in chronological order, the bottom boxes of bento had been opened, likely emptied of their contents before they could spoil--it had been three months, after all--rinsed and replaced on the table. The flowers had clearly been traded out for fresh ones each time the previous bundle wilted. Kyojuro couldn’t help but smile even wider at Giyuu the more he noticed his work. There he was, saying it over and over without anybody but Kyojuro knowing. I love you, I love you, I love you. 

Though typically Kyojuro never seemed to tire, he had just cheated death after all, and so much commotion from so many well-wishers was becoming difficult to keep up with. Shinobu was quick to pull rank even on other Hashira and clear the mansion out when she noticed his eyelids becoming heavy. Only Giyuu and Senjuro lingered while she caught Kyojuro up on his injuries. 

“I'm sure you’ve already noticed the injury to your left eye. It was ruptured. We treated it with medicinal ointments and managed to close the wound, but your pupil doesn’t react to light anymore…I’m afraid that eye will be permanently blind.” Kyojuro nodded slowly, remembering feeling Giyuu changing the bandages there before he was fully awake, remembering how he’d bumped into Giyuu’s head with his new lack of depth perception. 

Shinobu continued, though her voice became gentle and slow. “The wound to your solar plexus was the most severe. It went all the way through your torso and damaged your spinal cord.” She told Kyojuro. Senjuro and Giyuu had already heard this from her, but it hurt a little to watch Kyojuro’s reaction to the reality of his injuries. His eyes wandered down his own stomach, across the bandage, and toward his feet. “It caused damage to the nerves that control your left leg. So far it seems like it still moves, but I don’t know how strong it will ever be.”

You may never wield a sword again, Giyuu had told him. Kyojuro had breezed past the statement at first, just glad to be alive. Now, staring at his left foot and trying to wiggle his toes, finding with a strike of fear that he could only manage to move the foot a matter of millimeters, Kyojuro swallowed but set his jaw, stiff-lipped, trying to look strong in front of his brother. 

“I see.” He managed. 

Shinobu laid out an aggressive rehabilitation plan for him, to start as soon as he was ready, then parted with an oddly knowing look that made Giyuu squirm just a little. Nothing got past her. Senjuro lingered a bit longer, but as intuitive as he was, nothing really got past him either. He could see his brother’s head beginning to nod as exhaustion overtook him. And he could see the way it nodded toward Giyuu’s faithful and unwavering hand on his shoulder, his cheek falling against the back of Giyuu’s palm. Senjuro slid off of the bed and invented an excuse to leave, letting Kyojuro begin to drift. Before he left though, he met Giyuu’s eye. 

“Thank you, Mr. Tomioka.” He said quietly. Giyuu nodded silently at him; he’d been thanked by Senjuro several times before during the blur of these three months, once the boy learned how his brother had managed to survive the battlefield. Senjuro’s eyes were on Giyuu’s pale hand as Kyojuro’s cheek fell against it. “Thank you for saving my brother.” Senjuro continued in a whisper. 

Giyuu nodded again, though this time it was because he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Senjuro left the two alone in the wing of the butterfly mansion, the light of evening turning gold around them. Giyuu nodded a third time, this time just to himself, because he couldn’t think of a way to say Kyojuro is the one who saved me aloud. 

He felt Kyojuro sigh against him and looked down. Kyojuro’s good eye was open again, looking down at his own feet. “What’s going to happen?” He asked, mostly to himself, trying to move his defective left leg and frowning when he failed. After a moment he looked up to meet Giyuu’s gaze. 

“I don’t know.” Giyuu admitted. With a defunct left leg and no depth perception, it was quite clear Kyojuro wouldn’t be wielding a sword any time soon, perhaps ever again. He’d be forced to retire as a Hashira. He swallowed and watched Kyojuro, who seemed to be thinking very hard. 

He’d been born a Hashira, the blood was in him from the start. He’d always thought he’d die a Hashira, too. It wasn’t just the cornerstone of his identity but the very basis of it; everything else was built up from there. His entire concept of himself was going to crumble without his sword, without the flames curling from his lips as he wielded it. Without the knowledge, the certainty that he would eventually die in service of their cause. Now, Kyojuro didn’t know what he was going to die for. 

Kyojuro looked into Giyuu’s eyes and watched them carefully as they began to shine. His ivory skin was glowing in the dying evening light, his hand was cool and soft against his cheek. He looked past Giyuu at the stacks of gifts on the table, the letters Senjuro had read for him and left for him. And he smiled. And he kissed Giyuu’s hand again and he smiled even wider, lips still against his cool skin. 

“Me neither.” He said softly. 

He did know what he was going to live for. 

Evening fell into night with Giyuu by Kyojuro’s side, where he’d been all along and would be as long as he allowed him to remain. Their hands eventually entwined again, Kyojuro every so often kissing Giyuu’s as if in awe that he could. Each time Giyuu felt a little more faint. Each time he watched Kyojuro’s chest move up and down he relaxed a little more. By the time the sun had slipped down over the horizon Giyuu was practically asleep too, leaning against Kyojuro’s cot. 

Kyojuro watched the back of Giyuu’s head, tiredly carded his hand through Giyuu’s mess of black hair, couldn’t keep from smiling. 

“I love you.” He whispered aloud to Giyuu. Because he could just say it now, because he still had breath to whisper it into the dark room, because his heart had kept beating long enough to see Giyuu turn slightly to look at him, eyes heavy. 

“I love you too.” He whispered back, aloud. The words came as easily as breathing now. He settled his head back against Kyojuro’s cot, keeping his neck craned back so he could look at him for just a little long before sleep overtook them both. I love you too, he said, silently.

[leenfiend]

what’s ur type first < prev next > full comic

[carlos-tk]

thanks for the tags @whatsintheboxmh @orchidscript @thisbuildinghasfeelings @heartstringsduet @carlos-in-glasses @alrightbuckaroo @bonheur-cafe @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @birdclowns @lemonlyman-dotcom @noxsoulmate @tarlosluvr @never-blooms 💗

late again but a sweet moment with TK, Carlos and my imagined Reyes fam ☺️

Carlos starts to serve them both a plate of what’s left, TK standing wide eyed next to him. “You were serious they’re little monsters,” he states and Carlos laughs loudly, jabbing TK’s stomach with the back of the serving tongs.

“Well we tried to tell you but you were distracted, if you can recall about 3 minutes ago,” he replies smug, as TK rolls his eyes and elbows him back.

“You suck,” he whines, and Carlos’ smile only grows wider.

“I thought you liked that about me,” he teases, winking, and TK let’s out a barely contained gasp. “Carlos!” he sputters, voice shrill and at least 2 octaves higher than usual, glancing quickly around the room to ensure no one is listening in on their quiet, now inappropriate, conversation.

“Do I need to remind you that we’re less than 10 feet away from your entire family?” he asks him and Carlos’ is smugger than ever. “I thought you liked teasing in the company of my family, or are you the only one allowed to partake?” he asks, pinching TK’s hip.

TK huffs, biting down on the inside of his cheek and ignoring the question with a silent whatever on his tongue.

A moment later TK practically jumps out of his skin with a loud yelp at the sudden reappearance of Carlos’ tía Rosa behind him.

“Look I saved you some,” she says holding her half full plate in the air, “I did say that you’d miss out if you weren’t quick enough,” and TK’s heart takes a minute to finally stop thundering out of his chest, as he greets her with a tight embarrassed smile.

“Gracias,” he offers and she smiles, patting his cheek and tipping her plate on an angle to deposit the sweet atop his pile of desserts with a, “You’re most welcome querido.”

“Now is this one causing you trouble?” she asks next, a pointed look towards Carlos who’s stood watching them with his usual breathtaking smile.

“No ma’am,” he replies sweetly and she cackles. “You know it’s not too late to divorce this one and marry a forty-something Mexicana,” she quips and then all three of them are laughing.

“Cuarenta?” Carlos questions, only narrowly avoiding a light slap from her. “Ay! Yo que tú elegiría muy cuidadosamente mis próximas palabras Carlitos,” she warns and Carlos raises his hands in surrender.

“Lo siento tía,” he apologises as she lowers her raised eyebrows and knocks her hip into his, “Okay okay you two, go sit and enjoy your fiesta, I demand it.”

tags below the cut 💗

tags for the usual list @welcometololaland @rmd-writes @celeritas2997 @inkweedandlizards @strandnreyes @reyesstrand @three-drink-amy @theghostofashton @fitzherbertssmolder @herefortarlos @freneticfloetry @firstprince-history-huh @reyestrandd @mikibwrites @basilsunrise @reyescarlos @louis-ii-reyes-strand @lightningboltreader @redshirt2 @ladytessa74 @sunshinestrand @liminalmemories21 + an open tag for YOU 💗

[oceanlaceagate]

Chapters: 5/? Fandom: Wednesday (TV 2022), Addams Family - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair, Enid Sinclair & Larissa Weems Characters: Enid Sinclair, Wednesday Addams, Morticia Addams, Gomez Addams, Larissa Weems, Cousin Itt (Addams Family), Pugsley Addams, Lurch (Addams Family), Thing (Addams Family), Esther Sinclair (Wednesday), Murray Sinclair Additional Tags: Weems lives because I Said So, the intimacy of having common trauma with your principal, Enid Sinclair is Soft for Wednesday Addams, Wednesday Addams is Soft for Enid Sinclair, they're both whipped your honor, Fluff, Eventual Smut, Identity Issues, Mommy Issues, wow I wonder who that tags for, no one gets to have a healthy relationship with their sexuality, but we are working on it Series: Part 1 of Sings the Moon Summary:

"Oh, I don't go anywhere for breaks." Enid smiled, trying to pull Wednesday in for another kiss.

"California still counts as 'going somewhere'. If going back to Jersey counts, anything does." Wednesday swung her leg off of Enid’s lap and settled in next to her on the bed, keeping her close.

"No, like," Enid sighed, "I don't visit my family for breaks."

I’m BACK baby and i’m throwing this chapter out of the fucking window and hiding for another month, i’ll see you fuckers in october 

[tootkin-art]

Still working on my small diorama for the YCH project, I am done with the modeling and progressing well on the textures. I love painting textures. My ultimate goal is to create something like Ni No Kuni: Wrath of the White Witch. I bought a PS3 just for that game when it came out (blessed time when I had money) and I'm still in awe at the environments when I play it.

It's bittersweet, to get back to 3D after 10 years out of it. On one hand I missed it so so so much, it gets me very emotional to do it again, and I'm so happy I'm getting back where I left. On the other hand... I would be so much better at it today if I had continued it all this time, I can see it, I can feel it. It makes me pissed at all the people who didn't support me at the time and made my life hell for so long. But I try to focus more on the deep gratitude I have to my partner now, who actively supports me and without whom I would probably still not be back at it. They're the best! I love them so much!

Anyway, I would LOVE to know what you think about it. Please do interact, you would make my day.

[hellsbroadcaster]

you ever feel like you're getting close to the start of villain origin story?

[planeoftheeclectic]

Perhaps some TFP this fair day?

Three sentences have been edited, and three new ones for palutena trap have been written for your pleasure!

_____

"The blob was out, but the snake decided to do something useful for a change."

"Hey!" Viridi smacked him in the arm, and The Falcon took the opportunity to move to the floor - very gracefully and not at all like losing his balance and toppling off the banister. "I've told you before, no maligning Nature's creatures under this roof!"

[hoshigray]

Pleasurable Practice

Here's what I got: when you're left in headquarters to study for an upcoming language skit, your boss and work crush, Miguel O'Hara, does what he can to help his subordinate. And he does, in more ways than one...

A/n: It's been a week since I saw the film in theaters, and my brain hasn't been the same. I tried very hard not to write for this man, but here we are. Sighhhh, I swear I wasn't this bad when playing EoT (curse you Oscar Issac, and the ATSV art department!!!). And it doesn't help that my social feeds are full of him...Anyway, I hope you enjoy this piece! It's WAY longer than I wanted, but I guess that's meant to show how much fun I had writing, hehehe~. Also, ty so so much for 600+ followers!!

Cw: Miguel x fem!reader - some ATSV spoilers so tread carefully - sexual context so minors DNI - fingering (fem! receiving) - cunnilingus - clitoral play (Miguel's fangs lightly brush your clit, but doesn't bite it) - praise - kisses on the stomach - pet names (amorcito/little love, mi alma/my soul; amor/my love; vida/my life) - sexual acts in public - outside intrusions, but you two don't get caught.

Wc: 2.8k

"Hey, Lyla. You sure you wanna leave me here?"

"Aww, you scared something would happen without me?" She chuckles when you shrug. "You'll be fine; everything's been taken care of for today. If something pops outta nowhere, you know where to find Miguel or give me a call. Alright, I'm outta here. Cya tomorrow~."

"Bye, Lyla~" With that, the pixelated woman signs off from your line of sight, and you slump into your chair with a sigh.

It's late at night in Nueva York. The Spider Society headquarters is still active, but fewer people occupy the halls and sectors in these late hours, you being one of them. You're sitting at a conference table by the teleportation room, taking in Margo's shift. But since things are quiet around here, you use this time to work on your homework.

Well, you would've if a pair of hands didn't suddenly come from behind and blocked your vision. "Guess who?"

You shake your head with a smile. "Aren't you supposed to be at Earth-50101 hanging with Gwen and Pav?"

The hands are removed, giving your shoulders a quick rub. "Can't say a quick bye before I'm off?" Hobie Brown walks from behind to sit on the table, avoiding the scattered papers on the surface. "What's all this? School?"

"Yeah," You pick up a paper with color-coordinated dialogues. " I got a reflection to finish and need to read this script for a skit in my modern language class on Wednesday."

"What language?"

"Spanish." You flip the script for him to look at. A giggle slips from you. "Suppose you can't help me, huh?"

Hobie grins. "Yo lo haría si pudiera." Your eyes go big. Of course, the guy who "doesn't believe in consistency" would know a thing or two about other languages.

".....Please stay and help me."

"Can't, perhaps next time." Another heavy sigh as the tall other gets up from the table and opens a portal to Pavitr's universe. "We'll save some snacks to bring back tomorrow. See ya then."

"Bye, Hobie." You groan with your head meeting the table surface as the portal vanishes with Hobie's dismissal. In despair, you lift your head up and proceed with your work.

It's about 11 p.m., and you were able to finish your paper in about two hours. It's now time to work on your Spanish script. Unfortunately, your class partner can't be here (obviously) to say his lines with you, but you two promised to highlight your lines and recite on your own downtime. So you follow through with the blue lines — your lines — avoiding the red lines and announcing all the words to the best you can.

After the third time around, you start to get to the rhythm of it. So in tune with what you're doing, you don't mind your surroundings as you circle around the table with your face glued to your script.

"What're you doing?"

However, it all comes to a halt when a voice startles you. So used to the silence and your own tone that you didn't notice a familiar man creep from behind you. Your eyes widen at the tall and well-built figure before you.

Miguel O'Hara, Spider-Man 2099 and the leader of the Spider Society — your boss who you have a major crush on and is still waiting for you to reply after nearly scaring you to death.

"O-Oh, Miguel, umm," you quickly straighten yourself up, but the heat in your face encroaches. "Sorry, didn't see ya there. I was just looking at this script."

"A script?" He slightly tilts his head, surveying your moves as you sit back at the table. He follows and peers behind your shoulder to see what you're working on. "For what?"

"It's for a skit in my Spanish class. I'm reciting my lines for Wednesday." He nods at your answer, glancing around to see you're alone. "Lyla signed off for a while, but she told me to tell you that if you 'need anyone to put a leash on you,' Jessica would answer the call."

The man narrowed his eyes and sucked his teeth, "of course she said that..." was all he murmured under his breath from his pixelated peer's words. With a heavy sigh, he turns back to the paper in your hand and extends out his. His silent request is answered when you pass him the sheet to skim. A brow is lifted. "Is the skit like some kind of married couple or—"

You confirm. "Yes. Our unit is on relationships, and my partner and I wanted to do a skit where the husband — my partner — comes home and surprises his wife with their favorite flower and then gives a nice speech on how much he loves her." Miguel still reads the script, but you continue on. "Luckily, our instructor said it's not our final where it's required to talk entirely in Spanish. So, we can say some English phrases or words if our brains go blank."

Miguel finally stops examining the script and eyes at you. "I can help."

Huh? "Excuse me?"

"You're the blue lines, right?" Correct. "Then I can be the red lines and help you practice."

Wait, no! "Oh no, there's no need for that, Miguel! I'm sure you're busy looking at the screens on your station and—"

"No pasa nada, Y/n," You gulp when he grabs a chair and sits close to you. "I'll say your partner's parts, and you reply with yours." There's no use in arguing with him out of this, so you just follow suit.

For the past thirty minutes, you and Miguel have been practicing. Sometimes he'll call you out on words you forget or mispronounce, which hurts your little heart being scolded like a child. But then there are times when he praises you for saying something correctly without second-guessing, or he'll ask for a pen to scratch off something and write a better phrase for you to say. And you can tell that your memorization's been improving thanks to his help. Maybe there was no need to be nervous.

The time is now 11:46, and you feel way more confident about this skit than before. Miguel can also tell by how much you've performed that you'll do fine on Wednesday. Guess that should do it. He puts the script down and gets up, heading back to his original post.

"Hey, wanna do the actual skit with me?"

Huh? "What?"

"Well, I was thinking," You squeak. "Maybe we can try acting out the skit without the paper now that I'm kinda getting the hang of it? But, I mean, that's only if you're okay with it, ya know..."

His brows trench down. Miguel knows he shouldn't do it; there are many universes in his post that he needs to keep an eye on in case anything pops off. He can't afford to just act out a scenario for some class. However, when he glances back at you, he faces mixed feelings. Your eyes look at his, nibbling on your bottom lip, and your fingers fidget with each other as you wait for his answer.

Miguel knows he shouldn't...but it won't hurt to comply this one time.

"Fine," your heart skips when he turns back to face you fully. "But don't mention it to Lyla or Jess. I'll never hear the end of it from those two."

"Of course!" You reassure him as you ready yourself, mentally calming the happiness brewing inside down. "You go."

He nods and plays the scene. He acts like he opens a door and holds an imaginary object. "Estoy en casa, cariño."

"Oh, bienvenido a casa, bebé!" You rush to Miguel and give him a hug. You feel him go rigid, and you freeze. Wait, he's still my boss and not my actual partner! Oh, God, I bet he regrets doing this now...Ughhh!! Commit now, cry later!

You quickly improvise and pull him by his spider suit to come close, placing pretend kisses on his cheeks. "Llegas pronto a casa, mi guapo muñeco. Is something wrong?"

Miguel stares at you for a few seconds before he blinks and coughs. "Ahem, Querida, vine temprano porque es tu cumpleaños. Y quería darte esto." The hand with the invisible object comes up, and you take it.

"Dios mío, ¿mi flor favorita en mi día especial?" You give the man a warm smile and place a hand on his cheek, stroking his skin lovingly. Miguel hitches his breath. "Eres demasiado buena conmigo, muñeco. Pero no tenías que regalarme nada."

It takes Miguel a moment, but he coughs once more and returns to the task. "Puede que la flor no fuera necesaria, pero tenía que conseguirla para ti, mi amor." He puts a hand on yours that's still on his cheek, now it's your turn to slow your breathing. "Cada vez que veo esta flor, sólo puedo pensar en ti. No sólo hoy, sino todos los días. Veo todo lo que haces por mí y nunca lo doy por sentado. You are my everything, Y/n. Tú eres mi mundo. Mi luz. Mi corazón. Mi… Mi…"

He stops, noticing your expression and shallow breaths. Your eyes never leave his, mouth agape, and your attention entirely on his words— no, on him. Even in this little act, you dare not move or say something out of turn. Listening to the man before you intently, your hand still in his.

He knows he shouldn't, but Miguel leans into you, and a small gasp leaves you before his lips press onto your soft ones. "....Mi alma."

Your brain short-circuits, the feel of his lips overtaking you. You awkwardly kiss him back, resulting in a moan from Miguel. He grabs your waist while pushing himself forward, making you walk backwards until you hit the table. The bump has you two break the kiss, forcing you back to reality.

Miguel says nothing, and so do you, your eyes honing in on his deep red orbs. Your thoughts go too fast that your head pounds. What? What was that? Did he mean to do that??

"Túmbate."

He captures your attention. "What?"

"Lie down, mi amor." He commands in a stern voice. Hesitance restrains you, yet you still follow orders and sit on the table with your back to the surface. A small smile creeps up on Miguel, and he leans down to plant more kisses on your sweet lips. "Good. Now, say your part."

Slow smooches from your chin to your neck leave you breathless. Although the heat in your face is unbearable, you play along and stick to the script. "My wonderful husband...Y...You are so thought—"

"Se supone que está en español, Y/n." He corrects you. Lifting your shirt to reveal your abdomen. Miguel kisses your exposed tummy while his hand snakes past your bottoms, pressing a finger down on the wet spot of your clothed vulva. Your toes curl as your first moan leaves puffy lips. "Try again."

You intake a deep breath. "Ere...Eres muy considerado con—Mmmm....conmigo." Your bottoms and undergarments are now off, your bare cunt out for Miguel to see. The older man props your legs upward with both hands as he brings his face close to your pussy. He lightly blows on it, and you bite your lip from the cold air. "Keep going, mi vida."

"Cuando....no haya luz en mi—Oooh!!" Miguel flicks your clitoris with his tongue before nestling it between your soaked folds, sucking and laving your essence. "Nnnmp! Mi-Miguel, I can't do thisss...Your tongue, it feels so, so—Oh Christ..."

His ruby eyes peek at your face. "But you were doing just fine, Y/n." The way he says your name feels so sinful, so forbidden. But so pleasing to the ears. "Repeat it."

His tongue goes back to torment your slit. The risque noises the wet muscle makes with your slick-covered chasm ring your eardrums. Ecstatic whimpers fill the space around you, and you grab tufts of Miguel's brown hair when his tongue flicks your clit again. He's impatient, so you concede.

"Cuando no haya luz en mi vida....Haaaahhh, sé que estarás ahí para protegerme." Miguel pushes your tender bud against his teeth. His canine brushing on your pearl, causing you to jerk. "Eres mi sombra...Mi—Ahhhh!....escudo....Mi rey."

He chortles, "Good job, mi alma."

Satisfied with your cooperation, the man sucks on your precious sex as his forefinger nestles between your folds, your slick providing lubricant to naturally push his digit through your entrance. You jolt with a sharp cry, tears falling from your beautiful face.

His tongue and fingers go faster, and your release climbs higher with every lick. The stimulation of your poor cunt and clitoris is hardcore that you come in a few seconds, the walls of your chasm fluttering around Miguel's fingers coated with your personal fluids.

Your heavy pants slow down to steady your body that subsides from the aftershocks of your orgasm. Miguel withdraws his mouth and fingers from you, standing upright to take in your figure.

He scoffs with a tiny grin, licking his lips. "Amorcito."

You open your mouth to say something, but a flash of colors and shapes captures the attention of both of you. Your eyes go wide. Oh no, someone's coming!

With haste, you immediately grab for your bottoms and underwear before taking cover under the conference table, using it to quickly put your clothes back on before someone enters through the portal. That someone was Jessica Drew, making her arrival known by revving her motorbike.

"Jess," Miguel puts on his usually serious face. But on the inside, he's almost as nervous as you. Because he swiftly pulls a chair out to cover his erection lower regions.

"Hey, Miguel! I thought I'd find you here." The woman addresses him when she's done a lap around the table. Her portal vanishes from the scene. "I've been trying to call you through your watch. You not wearing it?"

He looks down at his wrist where it was supposed to be. "...I was using the restroom, so I left it on my station."

"Mmm, I figured." Jessica then notices the paper and backpack on the table. "This is Y/n's stuff, right? Where are they?"

"R-Right here, Jess!" To her surprise, you come out from the table with your bottoms fully secured. "Sorry, I was looking for my pen before packing up." You smile to ease the awkward tension and your racing heart.

"Oh, okay then." Jessica nods to your words and turns to Miguel. "Anyway, I was calling you up because I need backup. The guy I was dealing with somehow switched places with another villain. Took care of the other one, but my guy's elsewhere."

He hums. "Lyla."

"That's me." The yellow-pixelated woman with pink heart-shaped glasses appears once more.

"Where are the coordinates of the anomaly Jess was handling?"

"I'm sorry, you want me to do what?"

"...."

"What's the magic word?" The tiny woman teases him while you and Jessica hold in your laughs.

Miguel's brows furrow with a slight pout. "....Canyoupleasesend—"

"Woah, woah, woah," Lyla gets closer to his face with each word, raising his irritation as she does so. "Little too fast there."

"Can you please give us the co—"

"Already gave it to Jess."

"Then what was the point—"

"You know how much I love to pester ya," her smile doesn't help squander his frustration, not when he also hears the exchanged giggles between you and Jessica. "And call that payback for not having your watch on you."

To avoid their eyes seeing Miguel's situation, he leaves and fetches his watch quickly after being repeatedly teased by the two women. He returns ready with his mask on and the device on his wrist. Lyla and Jess are waiting for him, same with you and all your stuff packed up. It's 12 in the morning now, you have to get home. "Ready?"

"Yup, see ya there." The woman on her bike starts it up. Lyla disappears when the dimension is opened. "Bye, Y/n!"

"Bye, Jess!" You wave goodbye to the woman, who does one final lap before entering the portal to her new destination. And now you're back to being alone with Miguel, who you find looking at you. You gulp and say your thoughts. "Don't worry, I didn't tell them! And, sorry that it happened. I was being a little too close to you in the first—"

"Hey." Miguel lifts a hand to stop you from rambling on further, and you listen. "Your skit. When is it again?"

It takes you aback that he asks, but you still reply. "Wednesday?"

"Hm. Alright then." And with that, he walks to the portal to his next mission. But before he exits, he peers from his shoulder and proclaims something.

"Tell me how you did on Wednesday, then we'll continue with this talk."

[vavoom-sorted-art]

ASTROBLEME - Collab - Page 17

astrobleme [ as-truh-bleem ] - an erosional scar on the earth's surface, produced by the impact of a cosmic body, such as a meteorite.

A collab between @daneecastle and me, next page coming by her coming Wednesday, stay tuned!

First | Previous | Next

[starkidmunson]

glitter & crimson

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Realistically, Steve knows the band won’t hang around Chicago forever. He knows they’re out promoting a new album; knows they’ll have to move on and that Eddie has to go with them. It doesn’t stop him from wanting Eddie to stay; to live in the quick familiarity he’s built within Steve’s little found family.

Eddie and Robin seem to have already created their own secret language, all gestures and movement and eye contact Steve picks up on but can’t quite read. He’s already picking on the Party like he’s known them their whole lives; ruffling Dustin’s hair, elbowing Mike, throwing his arm around Will’s shoulders, and giving Lucas little shoves. 

It’s easy; so easy to get caught up in how charismatic Eddie is. Steve has a hard time keeping his eyes off him, and Eddie knows. He keeps making comments, throwing winks in Steve’s direction, seeing right through every wall he’s ever built around himself and Steve is caught between being obsessed with it and terrified. 

He stops drinking after the one beer, worried he’ll make things weird if he gets anywhere near tipsy, opting to stay as far away from the possibility as he can. If anyone notices, they don’t comment.

Lucas is chatting animatedly with Jeff, Max sitting close by, twisting braids into El’s hair. Dustin, Mike and Will appear to be grilling Gareth and Freak about dungeon and dragon campaigns Eddie used to run. Nancy has her arm looped through Robin’s, but her attention is on the phone in her hands, as Eddie and Robin talk about what touring is like.

“Where else are you going on this tour?” She asks as Steve tunes back into the conversation.

“This isn’t really a tour, we just haven’t been on the road in a while and we just stopped the album, so we lined up a few shows to get our feet wet before we hit the road for real this summer. One more show out in LA on Tuesday, then we’re done until May, for now.” Eddie explains.

“We’re in LA on Thursday!” Robin exclaims, and Steve’s stomach drops because, yeah. LA on Thursday. He trains his eyes on the glass in front of him, not willing to actually look at anyone they’re around. 

“We could totally meet up again if you guys are able to swing it?” Freak offers, and Steve forces a little smile onto his face and nods.

“We can figure it out later,” Eddie says after a few beats, and Steve is grateful for how the conversation rolls onto the next topic. When he finally looks back up, though, Eddie’s still looking his way. Steve hits him with what he hopes comes off as a reassuring smile, but it doesn’t seem to pay off the way he hopes.

Once the tab is closed and the staff is tipped well, Steve catches Eddie’s elbow on their way out the door. “I would like to meet up in LA, if you’re interested. I didn’t mean to get weird about it, it’s… I’ve been in my head a bit about that game since it was announced.”

“Oh, hey, no worries. We’re in LA the whole week, then we’re heading home. So no pressure, honest.” Eddie hooks his hand over Steve’s softly.

“Well, we should get in Wednesday, but we could totally do something after the game or even Friday?” 

Eddie smiles and nods, patting over Steve’s hand. “Text me about it.”

“I can do that. How much longer are you guys in town for, anyway?” Steve asks.

“Ah, the dreaded question comes,” Eddie’s playful, and it makes Steve’s face heat up. “We’ve got just under another 24 hours in the Windy City before hitting the road again.”

“Oh,” It pulls his chest in a way he wasn’t expecting, in a way that shouldn’t be happening for a rockstar he was adjacently aware of in high school. “Are you busy tomorrow?”

“Harrington,” Eddie’s teasing again, and it does nothing to help the blush on Steve’s face. “You can’t possibly miss me this much when I haven’t even left yet.”

“Shut up,” Steve shoves him away then, crossing his arms over his chest with a pout, only for Eddie to pull him in with an arm around the shoulder.

“We can grab brunch or something? We leave around 8 to avoid rush hour, so I’ll have to be in the bus by 6, or I’d say dinner.”

“Brunch works for me.” 

~~~~

The trip back to the hotel doesn’t go as Eddie expects; everyone is silently chatting amongst themselves, nodding and tapping along to the music and not causing a scene. He almost points it out, but elects not to bring unwarranted bullying upon himself instead. The guys had been giving him shit about Steve near constantly, so this was a nice change of pace after the last few days.

There was actually quiet as he made his way back to his room. A hot shower finally restored warmth to his bones the hockey arena had stolen, and he was drying his hair when he heard his phone vibrate with a text notification.

Steve: anything you're craving for brunch tomorrow so I can pick a place?

It’s practically too easy to flirt with Steve; he sets up lines without even seeming to realize. But Eddie still can’t get a real gauge on how Steve feels about the flirting, so he sidesteps the easy pass he could have made about Steve being enough of a meal, in favor of actually answering.

Eddie: French toast?

The next series of texts come before Eddie even moves his hands back to the towel over his hair.

Steve: sick, I’ll pick you up around 10:45

Steve: you mentioned going home, did you mean like, back to Hawkins?

Eddie twists his hair up in the towel, and lays down on the side of the bed he doesn’t sleep on before firing off an answer.

Eddie: nah, I’ve got a place in Nashville and no reason to go back to Hawkins anymore. My uncle moved to Indy, so that’s usually as close as I get.

Steve: any reason you moved to Nashville?

Eddie: are we playing 20 questions?

Steve: sorry.

Eddie bites his lip, and only hesitates for a moment before flipping over onto his belly and hitting the FaceTime button. Steve answers on the second ring, looking embarrassed, but Eddie doesn’t let him get a word in.

“My mom was born and raised in Memphis, but she always told me her favorite city was Nashville. I was there with her a few times when I was little and she’d just, like, light up. And music is so heavily engraved into every inch of the city, it’s hard to not find inspiration everywhere you turn. So. I bought a place in Nashville the minute I had enough saved up, and it’s kind of my home base now.” Eddie explains, watching as Steve’s face softens and he relaxes into his chair listening to Eddie’s answer. “Do I get to ask a question now?”

“I really wasn’t trying to be annoying, “ Steve looks ready to keep going with an apology, but Eddie cuts him off.

“Why do you play hockey?” It stops Steve dead in his tracks, and he genuinely looks confused for a moment. Eddie almost offers to drop the topic, but Steve fumbles his way into an answer.

“My, uh. My dad wanted me to play before I was even born. Because he played. Professionally for a few years when I was growing up, then he went on to coach.” Steve explains, and it sounds a little rehearsed. Eddie’s sure it’s something that comes up often if his father played and coached. “Gotta keep the Harrington legacy alive, I guess.”

There was a bite to Steve’s words that wasn’t lost on Eddie. “You don’t sound too thrilled about it.”

Eddie can see Steve working over how he wants to answer before he shrugs and sighs. “Because it’s all a show for him. The part we don’t talk about is how I got hurt and benched most of my senior season and he cut me off when I didn’t get full rides. Convinced me it was better to not go to college at all, despite the other scholarship offers, than to not get promised a spot on the ice. Convinced me to self-sabotage so I had to fight tooth and fucking nail to get into the league at all.” Steve pauses, then, and lets out a quiet laugh. “Sorry, that’s so unbelievably whiny of me. I love getting to play professionally, and I don’t take the opportunity for granted.”

“Not whiny. Dads can be the fucking worst.” Eddie offers, gently, and is grateful when Steve doesn't press on that particular bruise.

Instead, he takes his turn to ask a different question. “Why music?”

“This is lame, but the answer is once again my mom.” Eddie rolls his eyes at himself, but he smiles. “She was a musician. There were always instruments around and music was always playing and we traveled for her to perform. I knew my whole life I wanted to be a musician like her, but it wasn’t until after she died that I figured out that songwriting… telling stories and painting pictures with words and melodies and making people feel something…” Eddie trails off, lost in the thought.

“I’m sorry you lost her. It sounds like you enjoyed your childhood with her.” Steve offers, hopes it doesn’t sound like a forced nicety, but Eddie smiles and his nerves ease.

“She was a force to be reckoned with. Firing on all cylinders at once, chaos and home bundled into one.” Eddie’s soft a quiet for a moment, and Steve appreciates the silence by taking in how relaxed the other is to be talking about his feelings; it’s a refreshing break from many of his experiences with teammates or opponents who don’t know how to get emotional in a healthy way. Eventually, though, Eddie clears his throat. “Anyway. Back to 20 questions,”

“I wasn’t trying to start a game, really, I just… like talking to you,” Steve admits around a blush, tucking his chin into the collar of his shirt in an effort to hide the shade of his cheeks, but Eddie’s smile says his cover is blown.

“ANYWAY!” He announces louder, then taps at his chin. “Favorite and least favorite teams to play and why, go.”

“I’m not a dog.” Steve laughs but thinks about his answer anyway. “Favorite is probably the Flyers in Philly. Their fans are absolutely brutal, and their mascot is hilariously terrifying.”

“I have seen many a Gritty TikTok, so I completely understand,” Eddie gives him a few beats before he prompts. “Least favorite?”

“The Kings. LA. Billy Hargrove.”

“The…, what the fuck? How many guys from Hawkins are professional hockey players?” Eddie asks, because honestly, how had he not known there was more than Steve?

“He’s technically from LA, which is why he went back, thank God.” Steve mumbles, before dropping his head back against the wall behind him. “But, for whatever it’s worth, there’s me, Billy, and Tommy Hagan in the league.”

“Well isn’t that a fun bunch to surround yourself with,” Eddie muses out loud. Tommy and Billy were two of the biggest assholes Eddie had ever met, and it sounded like Steve wasn’t too fond of the other pair either.

“I actually…” Steve trails off, before trying again. “I was going to invite you guys to come to the LA game, but I’m really not sure it would be a good idea, so I’m… I’m actually going to ask you guys not to come, if that’s not too much of a dick move? I can get you tickets to literally any game you want for the rest of the season, just. I don’t think it’s worth it to get Billy started, and if he’s heard any of the press about us, I’m already going to hear it even if you’re not there.”

“Homophobe extraordinaire still, then?” Eddie guesses, and Steve chokes out a laugh, before covering his mouth and holding up a finger to ask for a moment to compose himself.

“He's… a lot of things.” Is the response Steve opts for, but Eddie can tell there’s more there. Whatever the two of them are doing, it doesn’t feel like Steve is ready to elaborate, so Eddie moves on. 

“I think it’s your turn.”

~~~~

Nothing changes after Corroded Coffin leave Chicago, though. Not in the ways Eddie had expected, at least.

Steve still texts him throughout the day, answers his Facetimes whenever he’s available. Eddie makes him the playlist he promised, and Steve gives feedback on which songs he likes and which ones he really doesn’t, after Eddie promises to not take Steve’s opinions personally. Which, to be fair, he tries really hard not to.

The concert in LA comes and goes, and Steve seems to send him every TikTok he comes across from the show. It’s a refreshing break, as every few videos in Eddie’s feed are of him cheering for Steve at the game, or Steve watching from sidestage in Chicago. 

A text from Robin eventually confirms their arrival in LA, and Steve and Eddie make plans to meet up after the game. Since Steve had expressed concern about Eddie going, he decides to just watch from the bar they agree to meet at. Televised games make it easier to track the puck, but Eddie decides he likes being there in person better.

Eddie’s sipping absently on his beer and in the time it takes him to look down at a text from Chrissy, several of the people around him react to something. Eddie looks around to make sure someone in the bar hadn’t passed out. When he looks back at the screen, absolute mayhem has broken out on the ice. The refs are trying to separate players from one another, and Eddie’s scanning through the numbers on each Blackhawks jerseys before he finally spots Steve, slightly off to the side from everyone else. The camera pans away from him, zeroing in on the fight, now between a Blackhawks defenseman and none other than Billy Hargrove. 

Billy’s helmet and gloves are off, teeth shining with blood as he grins like a psycho and starts to skate in Steve’s direction. One of the refs pulls him back, though, escorting him into the penalty box while another Kings player gathers his helmet, stick and gloves and clears them to the bench. 

The camera finally pans back to Steve, who is now sitting with his back against the boards. He’s got a gloved covering the lower half of his face, but his white jersey is covered in blood. A ref and the Blackhawks goalie are kneeling on either side of him as someone else speaks with him. The camera zooms in as the TV crews work to make out what is happening, just in time for Steve to lower his hand and shows off a gnarly gash along the side of his face. He leans forward a little and spits out blood onto the ice, and the TV jumps to the announcers in the booth. 

The volume is off, but they show a slow-motion replay of the few moments Eddie’d missed; Steve passes the puck off to another player on his team, just before Billy slams into his side. The impact sends both of them into the boards and down onto the ice. Billy swings his stick around and cracks Steve in the face with the blade heel. Steve reacts, throwing his whole arm into Billy’s face, before a sea of white Blackhawks jerseys sweep in and suddenly Billy’s a few feet away, with players from both teams piled up.

Eddie’s hand hovers over his phone; has no idea what to do in this situation. Texting Steve is useless; it would likely be hours, if not days, before he even thinks about looking at his phone. He doesn’t want to bother anyone, but he’s… well, he’s stressed. Even if Steve isn’t interested in him the way Eddie’s interested in Steve, they’ve still built a weird little friendship and that was an awful lot of blood.

So, Eddie ends up firing off a text to Robin. It’s just a simple 'let me know if there’s anything I can do,' but his phone lights up with a call immediately.

“How bad is it?”

“I’m not back with him yet, but just… meet us at the hospital, if you can?” She asks. While her voice waivers a bit, she’s calmer than Eddie expected her to be.

“I’ll be right there.” He agrees, hangs up and exits the bar before the game even returns from commercial break.

[drvscarlett]

About You Pt 13

Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader

Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.

About You Series

A/N: I am so sorry for the long hiatus because my laptop died and I have to get it fixed. About You will be in consistent updates starting next week every Wednesday and Thursday. I am actually planning to extend the chapters of About You up to Chap 18 because I messed up the pacing. I hope you enjoy this and let me know your thoughts

Taglist: @spideybv28@randomcuboidshape @mehrmonga @casperlikej @cliosunshine @honethatty12 @randomgirlnumber-13 @sugyomama @ririyulife @skywalker1dream @vicurious28 @khaylin27 @0710khj @its-elias-world @vizzzashley @allisonwoods @taytaylala12 @miarabanana @ceciii-b @lindsayjoy444 @mploopssek @snakelore @toldyouitwasamelodrama @lordpercevalcharles

2013, Marina Bay Street Circuit

Sebastian was on an all-time high, he was winning on and off tracks. The championship was within his reach with each race he wins and his personal life is flourishing. He had felt the championship euphoria before but being in that podium and seeing Y/N proudly looking at him from below is something else.

Despite the energy burst, he opted to stay out of the Singapore night life and return to his hotel room. He didn't feel like mingling in sweaty clubs or the taste of intoxicating drinks tonight. Besides, he has a dinner at a skyline restaurant with a very beautiful girl so he has to change quickly.

Whistling down a happy tune as he texts a message to Y/N. There was nothing in this world that could ever ruin his happiness and that was a word spoken to soon.

When he turns the corner, there was someone that Sebastian didn't want to see.

"Oh Sebastian, thank God. I have to speak to you and its really important-"

"Hanna? What are you doing here?"

Sebastian's voice was mixed with confusion and anger. The past few meetings with Hanna was not a good memory for Sebastian and he could only feel as if trouble follows whenever he meets her.

"Are you stalking me?"the driver asked

The woman in front of him went red in embarrassment. She could understand why Sebastian would think that way but she was in a desperate attempt to talk to him.

"I know this looks bad but I had a friend here who told me where you would be staying and I needed to talk to you. I wouldn't have done this if it wasn't important"Hanna rambled.

"Didn't I make myself clear last time that Hanna I do not return any feelings for you and I'm really sorry if you thought a relationship could blossom between us because its never going to happen"Sebastian stated.

It would be a lie if Sebastian didn't notice how Hanna winced by the directness of his voice but he has to keep his boundaries. He doesn't want anything more to jeopardize what he is working on with Y/N. He will not be a man that will be unfaithful to her.

"But Sebastian, you have to listen. This is something big and this is something that I can't do alone"Hanna was begging.

"I'm sorry Hanna but whatever that is, I'm sorry but I couldn't be of any help"Sebastian ended the conversation.

He passed her by and shut the door in front of her. It was painful for Sebastian to hear the cries of his once childhood friend at the other side of the door but she has to learn that Sebastian cannot return her feelings back.

"You're not even listening to me Seb. You didn't even give me a chance to tell you about us"Hanna thought silently cradling the bump on her stomach.

2013, Suzuka Circuit

It was Y/N's dream to go to Universals Studio Japan to see the Wizarding World of Harry Potter. She mentioned this a couple of times but due to the distance between the circuit and Osaka, she always missed the opportunity.

"I still can't believe that you are taking me to Harry Potter"Y/N squealed, excitement was evident on her face.

"We still have a long way to go, they told me its a 2 hour drive" Sebastian noted "You can still grab some sleep"

"I should be the one telling you that, you just finished driving for the weekend and now you are driving at an ungodly hour of 7 in the morning"Y/N voices her concern "Don't you ever get tired of driving?"

"For you? Never"

Sebastian's hand found its way to Y/N's and he placed a gentle kiss. His eyes were still focused on driving and the road but he could see in the mirror the red tint on her cheeks.

For some it would be tiring to go on long drives. Sebastian thinks otherwise, he feels like he is the luckiest man alive to be able to go for long drives when she is at the passenger side.

"Do you have a list of which part of the Harry Potter world are we going first?" Sebastian wondered.

"Well maybe we could go and get some of those butterbeers and then we can explore the whole park. I wanted to try that rollercoaster that looks like Hagrid's bike and then the castle. I also want to buy some candies for Mick"Y/N listed down.

She looked up from her phone and she felt like she was being selfish not asking Sebastian about what he wanted to do. She wanted to do a face palm.

"That is if its alright with you? Maybe you want to go somewhere specific in Universals?"Y/N offered.

"Oh no, its alright. I'm good wherever you are happy. This is your day and I want you to enjoy the whole Harry Potter experience"Sebastian insisted.

Y/N thought he couldn't love Sebastian even more but she just did. She knew how Sebastian was not that big of a fan of Harry Potter, he didn't even know the names of the golden trio in the beginning. He just started to get into it because she was rambling all the time about it.

"Speaking of the Harry Potter experience, you can check the backseat because I believe there is a surprise for you there"Sebastian chuckles.

At the backseat, Y/N found two boxes. One has her name on it with a big black bow ribbon while the other had a scribbled vettel on it. She picked it up confused to what is Sebastian plotting now.

"Since when did you get all fancy?"

"I asked my Mom about it"Sebastian admits "Go and open it"

Once the bows were untied and the lid was lifted, there was a rustle of wrapping paper. Y/N couldn't believe her eyes upon seeing the emblem on the cloth.

"You got me robes?"Y/N can cry "And you got my house right!"

Sebastian will admit that he researched a couple of days ago about how to make this experience really special. Some said that the school robes was a good outfit to make the person feel like they are attending Hogwarts. He made some few calls here and there then tada he acquired some of the Hogwarts robes just like what was seen in the movies.

"So did you get a Slytherin robe?"Y/N asked, she often teased Sebastian that he could be F1's Draco Malfoy.

"Well I think I had to surrender, my Pottermore results said that I was a Slytherin"

"You took a Pottermore quiz and you didn't tell me right away?"

2013, Buddh International Circuit

The Taj Mahal looks exquisite with the sun setting at the back of it. Everyone was on their phones or their cameras to capture the moment but Y/N prefers sitting at one of the benches and preserving it in her head. There was something really peaceful to just live in the moment but she doesn't blame if people wanted something physical to commemorate this moment.

Maybe Y/N wanted to savor this moment of peace because by tomorrow she will be back in the paddock with all the different noises. She knows that there will be a lot of questions in the next few days following Mark's decision of leaving Formula 1.

She did not blame Mark, she understands that he has been doing this for quite some time now and he was bound to be burned out. She has also been thinking about retiring from this job but that would be happening in a few more years. The thought of retiring scares her because her life basically revolved around Formula 1. There was this idea that maybe if she doesn't have a job here then maybe she will lose everything that she have right now.

A heavy sigh escapes her mouth as she zoned out once more with the view.

"Mind if I join you?"

Y/N looked up and she saw the familiar grin of Sebastian Vettel. She gave a nod and gestured at the empty space at the bench.

"How did you know I was here?"Y/N asked.

"I didn't. We are doing some team video and then I spotted you here then I went ahead to say hello"Sebastian grins.

From behind Sebastian, she sees a filming crew at a distance. They seem to be distracted with Mark and the reserve driver Sebastien Buemi. Y/N acknowledges it with a smile then she proceeded to looking at the scenic view in front of her.

"You know when they told me about the Taj Mahal, I got reminded of us"Sebastian opened up "The two met when they were young and its love at first sight then they got married"

The thought of the very first time that Y/N saw Sebastian and the first time they talked to each other, crossed her mind. It seems like it was just yesterday but its been a really really long while now.

"And I don't believe in coincidences, I think some things are meant to happen"Sebastian stated "When I saw you here, I was given the sign of the universe and maybe a sign from Taj Mahal that its really you that I would like to spend the rest of my days with"

Y/N felt overwhelmed by the direct confession. This was usually how Sebastian is, he was very vocal about his feelings but the implication in his tone is different. Y/N felt like they are moving a bit too fast but maybe she doesn't mind at all.

A small box was placed in her hand.

"This was my Mother's. I carried it around with me since we started to tell each other how we feel. I am not asking you to marry me but I just wanted you to have it because someday I'm planning to marry you."Sebastian concludes.

"Seb, I can't.. This is too much" she was speechless.

"There is no other woman that I see myself ending up with" Sebastian insist "Its yours just like how my heart is also yours"

The silver band with a pearl in the middle stares at her. She ponders about it even after Sebastian left her side. This was technically not a marriage proposal but rather a promise ring.

She prayed for a sign in the weekends whether she deserves to place it on her finger or not.

Needless to say, it was a very eventful weekend for Sebastian. He crossed the finish line with a World Championship. Even after winning all these years, he was still amazed by the winning feeling.

The crowd chants his name as he shows his praises to his winning car. He managed to find his way to the podium with the congratulations littering everywhere he go and every face was a blur.

However, he had to do a double take as he saw Y/N on the barrier. She was wearing a proud grin and pointing at something in her finger. Sebastian didn't have to be a genius to recognize the familiar ring on her finger.

It was a memorable weekend.

 2013, Yas Marina Circuit

It was rare that Y/N gets to hang out with girls. Being surrounded by a lot of male bravado and testosterones can be a little too much which is why when there is an opportunity for her to meet another girl friend then she will make time.

Post qualifying sessions was a good opportunity as Jenson chooses to rest while the Red Bull boys are stuck in strategy meetings. Therefore, this was Y/N's window time to accommodate Hanna's request for dinner.

She couldn't wait to tell Hanna about the recent happenings with Sebastian or the latest gossip in the paddock. She was pretty sure that she might shock Hanna with the development of her love life. However Y/N was the one with a jaw drop when Hanna waddled in with a pregnant bump.

"Oh my God Hanna! Why didn't you tell me your pregnant?"Y/N was shocked "Are you okay or are you tired? Did you need to sit down?"

Hanna gives a weak smile, "just a little water"

"Of course,here. Sit sit."Y/N fuzzed "If I had known you were pregnant then I would have made reservations closer to your hotel"

"Y/N you're already treating me dinner"Hanna said

"I should be because I think I have been late in congratulating your little one"Y/N replied.

Hanna held her bump protectively. She was suddenly reminded the reason why she asked to meet Y/N. She was doing this to help her little one because she cannot afford that her child will grow up miserable.

"How far along are you?"Y/N wondered.

"About six… six months"there was an unease in Hanna's tone.

Hanna knows what she did and she knows what she is about to do. It plagues her mind how she could wipe the smile Y/N has right now with the bombshell of news that she has. Hanna blanks out as Y/N ramble about how she is so happy for her and the guilty feeling sinks even further.

"Y/N I have to talk to you"Hanna cuts her off.

It was better to rip the Band-Aid early than prolonging the agony.

"Oh we can talk later,lets get you some food first"Y/N dismissed. "I don't want you or your little one getting hungry."

The way that Y/N cares so much about Hanna makes the pregnant woman even more uneasy. Hanna noted how Y/N was so caring in asking her preference and she wonders if she would still be like that if she finally learns the truth.

Dinner went on smoothly with their chitchats of how life has been and how they are dealing with the changes. As time goes on, Hanna felt the gnawing guilt eating her even more which is why the minute the tables were cleared and the desserts were out, it was now time.

"I really need to talk to you about this Y/N"Hanna gestured at the bump.

There was a glee in Y/N's eyes, maybe she was thinking that Hanna is making her a godparent. Hanna tried her best to avoid her eyes because she cannot handle when her eyes starts crying.

"Now what do you want to talk about?"Y/N questioned.

"Im pregnant Y/N"it was now or never for Hanna.

If she could just change how things were then she wouldn't have been so stupid. She wouldn't have been in this situation right now and she wouldn't lose such a great friend like Y/N. However, this was a consequence of her selfish actions and now she will pay for it.

"I am well aware of that Hanna"Y/N grinned "and congratulations by the way. You should totally let me help you find some cute baby stuffs and-"

"The father is Seb"

[kidasthings]

I found your fic on ao3 yesterday and I’ve already read all 6 chapters!!!! I loved it!! Do you update Echos of Eden regularly ? Or have an update schedule?

Hey, thanks for being a reader!

I update it when I have time - I was traveling abroad for 3 weeks, and now I am back but facing some major life changes in the next few weeks. I think the last update was last Wednesday? I write when I have time, along with everything else going on, so it's been a bit of a whirlwind.

I also try to keep up with comments, so you might see more frequent activity there between chapters. I'm so glad you found it and got hooked; this definitely keeps me going. Chapter 7 will focus back on Mae and Noa, but I definitely have a side-story going with that Fort Wayne group and now Finn (wonder how he is going to end up..)?

Stay tuned!

[gammija]

[CECIL]: "So, as we move into the final hours of the competition, vote! Whether it's for your favorite, local, Night Vale community radio host or some... pile of bones, don't let your voice go unheard.

Also... Well, this might be a little bit outside the rules, but you could even make a second account to show a little more support for whoever you think should win. You probably won't get caught. As City Council declared in a recent press release, "Voter fraud doesn't exist."

"There is no such thing as voter fraud," City Council said last Wednesday, their many mouths moving as one. "No one can vote more than once. We certainly can't. Ha, ha." Some of their feet shuffled. "We definitely did NOT commit voter fraud by using the recently developed cloning technology to make copies of ourselves, force them to vote for us, then bus them into the Whispering Forest where we threw them out. That. Never. Happened," they added emphatically.

Immediately after the press conference they disbanded the City Council's, 'Night Vale committee for Fair Elections', by eating them."

[A door creaks.]

[CECIL]: "Listeners, someone has just entered my studio.

Uhm, excuse me! You're not allowed to be in here!

It looks like it's a small man, with a smoothly bald head, and dark empty eyes...

Oh no. They're sockets. This must be him, this 'Snas' the skeleton. He's coming to defend his title...

Listeners, as I prepare myself for what will surely be a fight to the death, seeing who takes who out first, I take you... To the weather."

[CECIL]: "Welcome back. I know you're all dying to know whether I won the Tumblr sexyman poll, and if I defeated the small skeleton. Well...

I was all ready to fight, getting into a stance, when the skeleton held up his hands. He said that he didn't want to fight, and that he'd come here to concede and hand me the title.

I'll admit, I was a bit taken aback by this at first. Of course, I had to protest. Wouldn't that be unfair to the few people who voted for him, I asked?

But he explained that, since he already won last year, he wasn't really looking forward to all the attention and hassle from winning a second time. And seeing as it apparently meant a lot to me, he'd rather just let me win than miss his wedding.

Yeah, apparently he's about to be wed to someone named Komaeda in a few days? Good for him.

Dear listeners, after his heartfelt plee, I felt I had no choice but to accept the win.

Which means I am now, officially, Tumblr sexyman of 2023. Yay!

Stay tuned next for muffled sounds of celebration, overheard from a neighbour's house nearby.

Good night, Night Vale. Good night."

[holllandtrash]

worlds collide | pierre gasly instagram au

pairing: pierre gasly x famous reader

The newest Wednesday star is seen interacting with F1 driver Pierre Gasly and they don’t even try to keep it a secret

yourusername

liked by jennaortega, pierregasly and 14,461 others 

tagged: wednesdaynetflix 

yourusername stay tuned #wednesdayS2

view all 1,387 comments 

jennaortega welcome to nevermore

yourusername when do i get a school hoodie

ememyers never

yourusername oh

dannielle3 i guess i can’t gatekeep y/n forever :’(

sammieclan_ bby’s doing big things

gastly10ly someone tell me why pierre liked this 

peachyric pierre likes everything

yukitsunoda0511 added to their story

pierregasly added to their story

charles_leclerc started following yourusername

yourusername added to their story

pierregasly

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 478,511 others 

pierregasly well rested for race 2 let's go

view all 2,774 comments 

landonorris i’ll make sure to wave when I lap you

pierregasly how nice of you

babynorris still waiting for y/n to show up in the paddock 

sainzc55 same tbh

jemmaf1fan maybe next race 🥲

liked by pierregasly 

yourusername don’t crash

pierregasly i’ll try not to

yourusername

liked by jennaortega, pierregasly and 21,006 others 

tagged: jennaortega 

yourusername soul sisters i think

view all 1,104 comments 

jennaortega 🖤🖤

ememyers can’t even give me photo creds?

yourusername i thought hunter took the photo LOL

babyricc3 can’t believe that she’s dating pierre

chilisainzz she just seems so young?? I think he can do better

ghostlygasly shes not at the races and ya’ll still manage to hate on her, grow up

liked by yourusername

pierregasly “can’t talk, im on set” 

yourusername someone’s cranky

pierregasly just answer my text

pierregasly

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 255,976 others  

pierregasly bucharest dump

view all 2,455 comments 

danielricciardo since when does f1 race in bucharest

landonorris did i miss this race? Its not on my calender

pierregasly you’ll get the invite next year

liked by yourusername

mariannef1x IS THAT Y/N IN THE LAST PIC

honeynorris04 it has to be her, those are def her shoes

papipierre of course their days off match up 🥺🥺

thursdayadamms i think she finished filming!!

gracegp1997 don’t tell me pierre flew to romania between races to see her im crying

jennaortega added to their story

yourusername added to their story

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 27,673 others

tagged: pierregasly

yourusername number 10 on the grid, number 1 in my heart 

view all 1,996 comments

jennaortega thought I was number 1?

pierregasly put your phone away we’re in the middle of dinner

landornorris he finished P16

yourusername is his racing number not number 10??

landonorris but hes not 10th on the grid, he’s not even near the top 10

pierregasly thanks lando

carlopezxz we’ve been WAITING for these paris pics

alphataurif1 💙🖤💙🖤

a/n: might do a part 2 for these cuties??

[tootkin-art]

Continuing on my studies of Ryoko Kui's art in dungeon meshi to make my own goblin species, trying to vary body type a little! I noticed that in her Daydream Hours, when she does pages of 16 portrait of the same species, she makes a point of varying age, body type, and skin color, which I find very cool!

[stringlessau]

We got silly...

Animated by me (Nick) and edited by Rope bc we were feeling like experimenting with software and shit lmao

Also a bit of an update for anyone that reads past this, we took a break for a huge number of reasons but the next page of stringless is releasing this wednesday, so stay tuned :D