#this took too long for how short it is

[sansebastinae]

a regular day in the ISS. | 1685 words alt title : a short story written while i screwed with html. you can use mobile, but landscape please!

you can read the story below the cut without all the jazz. it's pretty much all the same.

408 km above Switzerland / 4:18:48 PM /UTC +1 CET 38 Days - Manned Mission 2-1 LOG : a regular day in the ISS.

"ah, switzerland again!"

"how about australia for once?"

"no."

"alright, suit yourself then."

-----

"Besides, how hard is it to miss Australia? It's...one big thing just. There. Not my fault you can't catch it in time."

"Yes, and your stupid numbers board there."

"I want to win after all."

"Nothing to gain from winning it, love."

(of course seb is winning…)

««« ────── [ approximately 2.5 years ago ]

Mark's half-superior-half-coworker Jonathan Wheatley had once jokingly asked him if he wanted to move to the STELLARIA Section, in which Mark's response was a grimace and a terse "No thank you," given the fact that the fellas of that section was…eccentric to say the least.

He was unsure as to why Horner decided to open a whole section dedicated to just original research, but given that even the man himself had superiors, he was not surprised. Must be the weird old guy from the Munich University again in his ear. Either way, he must be really special to have all the astrophysicists be in their very own area.

"I watched them do their stuff once." Wheatley said in one of break rooms. "I didn't get a single lick of it, even with the math they used. And I had almost full scores in all the Engineering mathematics. They can get real loony."

Mark shrugged his shoulders, in slight agreement. STELLARIA was chock full of these nerds that are constantly fixated on space numbers, but one of them stood out the most for looking like a 15 year old. but at that point the slightly scraggly man -- boy? -- already seemed to be fond of Mark from the get-go. Rocky had brought him over while touring the place, and the twinkle in the latter's eyes easily meant trouble for him in the future.

Theoretical subdiv, Rocky clarified, the guy bringing Seb around. Not the normal Practical use physics that the other sections worked with.

Charming, he thought, but still, it's unfortunate that they would barely see each other considering the differences in what they did. Some other fella named Anton looked at STRUCTURAL once, and slinked away at the massive working machines he and his coworkers went back and fro to. Couldn't blame him.

Wheatley told him that Sebastian had only joined the company a month ago, and apparently as part of his traineeship, or cadetship, something along the lines, while still working on his final fringes of his PhD or the like. It wasn't officially stated yet to the world, but rumours had already persisted that didn't really have any interest in the other agencies. But that was a wild story for another time. Mark wonders how he managed to do so many things at the same time, and was entertaining the thought of him having a twin or clone to help out.

At the end of the break, Mark had pushed away the thought of the starry-eyed section long towards the back of his mind. Not useful, he muttered.

»»» ────── [ present day, present time ]

(being pushed down by 25-year old worth of kilograms)

"what lame ass metal thing are you doing right now?"

"being dragged down by you… why is your hair so ticklish?! it's just last part of today's experiment."

"ok. i think CORE wants to give us a report for today in a few minutes, and then i can knock myself out."

"you get to knock out? i had to drag you to your sleeping bag because you weren't meeting your 8 hours ─"

"the graph was too interesting…"

"oh god it's you two arguing again."

"oops, hello Marlon."

««« ──────

Overtime. He never really minded it, because the peace and quiet was optimal, for when Mark was too caught up in the place building his things, and free to audibly mumble his thoughts.

Unfortunately for him on this fine evening, a person stood waiting behind his back , holding a slice of chocolate bread made with approximately 100% passion and 89% skill 500% flavour. Mark was dumbfounded at the bread hanging in front of him, but he was kind of hungry. It was a bit singed at the edges, but it still tasted good. He thanked Seb, stuffing the piece into his mouth and delighting in the chip flavour burst.

Until you realise that the person's pass was not authorised for this specific part of the building, of course. He whipped his head around and nearly strained his neck --

"How the fuck did you get in?! You are not supposed to be here." Mark had exclaimed in hushed tones, the first time Seb had managed to inflitrate the Section. STRUCTURAL was tightly maintained.

"I know all the corridors to here already." there's that knowing tone again. What a nosy little shit.

"There's nothing interesting in this place mate," Mark threw his hands up, looking around to make his point and hunking pieces of things and thingmabobs, before looking at the kid before him. "all I do every day is testing and make sure the materials are working right. And doing work I'm too slow to finish."

"It's ok, making stuff is fun. My dad used to be a carpenter and make stuff out of wood. Writing space math gets boring when you're sitting there too long."

You couldn't argue with that, he's a curious kid alright.

He let him have a look around. Seb's eyes were immediately drawn to the panel-type mish-mash item laying about in the corner, lifting and turning it gingerly like a new archaeological find. Dents, dings and bumps marred the surface of it, curious materials all welded with different names to them, like "Carbon Fibre" and "Heat Resistant Fibreglass".

"It's just our in-house materials, Seb. Not that big of a deal."

"Still, making a whole new kind of matter, you guys are pretty cool."

»»» ──────

"psst. hey. mark."

"what?"

(rustling sound)

" 'Thermo-Sterilised Chocolate Bread'… STRUCTURAL Section. What? When did they do these?"

"They had a whole investigation to try "compress" it. Also, i thought you were more level-headed, Mark. They told me you got visibly jealous over people snooping for my bread!"

"God, they noticed that…? Was i that serious about it?"

"you were."

"shit."

««« ──────

As much as Mark wanted to entertain Seb's sixty thousand questions, which were basic engineering (but he didn't mind), he wanted to go home more. So he had to gently convince to him to leave, turning the lights out for the night.

By gently convincing, it meant Mark forcing Seb on one of those roller chairs and rolling him out STRUCTURAL Section's main doors, before kicking the empty chair back in. -- "wait let me get my stuff first!!" he had exclaimed, running back to STELLARIA and back to meet Mark in a record of 3 minutes.

Quite a speedy lad. Mark had not seen someone go as fast as that since University Rugby in Australia. He was obliterated on contact by the opponent as he dived for the ball. Three months out with a broken left shoulder. Ah, the wonders of youth.

"You didn't let me see the machines."

"And you didn't even tell me what you like." Mark had grumbled, fumbling for his car keys as they walked out the tall glass doors. "And you can do it anytime, the machines aren't going to grow legs and run away."

Seb simply gave a grin.

oh for fuck's sake. "Fine. Anyway, I'm going off. Goodnight, Seb." He was about to walk off, before realising something. "How… do you go home?"

"Huh? Bus obviously. Salzburg's pretty good with the public transport. Yeah I have a license but I don't care much for driving a lot."

Mark looked at him right in the eye. "Get over here. I'll just drive you back." He wanted to laugh when Seb just stood there in his stupid oversized jacket giving him a questioning look. "I'm being serious. Where do you live anyway? It's faster than just waiting around."

► ► ►

It was the world's most uneventful trip by many standards. In fact, Mark's passenger somehow managed to catch a quick snooze right after telling him the address. Seb lived on the other side of Salzburg, in a simple four-floored apartment. Despite being practically the same as his own, Mark thought the surroundings were more cozy.

He gave Seb a gentle nudge on the shoulder. "Ok sleeping beauty, nice place you have here."

"Huh…what…?" He looked around before realising. "You seriously didn't have to…"

"It's for the bread. Good stuff."

There was a short moment of silence as Seb processed what Mark said, before turning slightly red. "I-if you want, I can give you different flavours every week," he said. "Banana, Raisin,--"

Mark just sat the wheel listening in mild awe. He would've just gone home and knocked out or gotten a beer. It sort of made him want to try baking, but that was probably his illogical brain talking, before realising he had to tell Seb to not get any more ideas. "No, no, you don't need to do it, it's just that you are really impressive, still finding time to bake."

"It's a nice hobby!" Seb laughed. "Ok, ok, i'm leaving now. Goodnight Mark, thanks again. Take care." He clumsily opened the car door and right after, tried to give Mark the awkwardest fist bump attempt on Earth.

► ► ►

Twenty two hours to the first time Seb sneaked into STRUCTURAL, a slightly baffled Mark whipped his head around to the sound of the maintenance exit audibly opening, to a Seb holding some more of his homemade chocolate bread.

"I have a lot more at home in the fridge, actually, if you'd like."

»»» ──────

ISS INTEGRATED VIDEO LOG : // ZVEZDA-20XX-24-01-XX:23:11:98

(zip noises) come on stop struggling Seb.

HU--REN--SOHN!!!

translation : son of a bitch.

there, neat and tidy. good luck waking up tomorrow, i think you'll be fine.

I will throw you out the airlock tomorrow. You watch.

muah. ok, goodnight sweetheart. love you. don't wreck the module.

fuck you..............night.

-- RECORDING ENDED --

»»»───«««

[purplebehittindifferent]

I guess I wouldn’t want my friend to know I committed genocide either…

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[luck-of-the-drawings]

OH ARTHUR BENNETT.. such a gorgeous and intriguing character. terribly burdened by a GRUESOME set of crimes, his light suffocated by a HEAVY century of GUILT. so tragic, so dark and broody, and yet PAINFULLY awkward in any social setting ever

[matchingbatbites]

all for the love of you | 4.7k

My super late contribution for @thefreakandthehair Lex's spring challenge, using the prompt daisies! I caught writer's block pretty bad and wasn't able to finish this on time - honestly, I got to a point where I just couldn't stand looking at it, so I set it aside for its own good. So glad I finally caught the bug to finish it, because I'm really happy with it! <3

Read on Ao3

Eddie isn't one to get jealous. He didn't really grow up with a lot, he learned to care for the things he had, and his mom taught him that being jealous only made you feel like shit in the long run. Sure he's wanted things before, has coveted things that other people had, but jealousy. 

Jealousy is a whole other monster, something he wasn't familiar with until he caught feelings for one Steve Harrington. 

It wasn’t something that happened immediately. Eddie spent a solid four months getting to know Steve after the younger had carried him out of actual, literal hell. The boy had opened up his home to Eddie once they’d been released from the hospital, and they’ve spent countless hours together since.

Watching movies and talking and just helping take care of each other - something they’d almost been forced into when they realized that neither could reach their arms above their heads without pulling at their sides, their matching bat bites tugging and aching, and Steve completely unable to reach the road rash marring his back.

They fell into a routine that settled warm in Eddie’s soul, and every day became something to look forward to. No matter how bad his day was - and there were plenty of bad days - he knew that he had Steve, that at the end of it he could count on crawling into bed with someone who helped chase the nightmares off, who helped ease the pain just a little.

When he eventually moved back in with Wayne - once his name was cleared and his scars finally manageable on his own - it felt like he’d left part of himself behind. Moving out wasn’t something he had to do, but he felt like he’d needed to. He didn’t want to be a bother to Steve any more, didn’t want to take up space any more than he already had.

He didn’t realize something had changed until they had a bit of distance between them, until he was crawling into a cold bed all by himself, until he was forced awake by vivid nightmares. It didn’t take long for Eddie to be struck by the knowledge that the reason he misses Steve so much, the reason why being away from the younger boy is physically painful, is that he-

Eddie grew up hearing people talk about crushes and butterflies, has heard his friends go on about the people they like, but he's never actually felt that himself. He's never had that nervous, fluttering sensation, or the swooping feeling that Jeff described when he met his current girlfriend. 

Over the years he's managed to brush off inquiries about his own love life, spinning it around to the people that he’s fooled around with, because apparently sexual attraction is something he has no problem feeling or understanding. No, that was something he figured out pretty quickly. 

He's had no problem finding people to sleep with, whether it be in Hawkins or in the bigger city an hour or so away. He learned that he doesn't have a preference when it comes to sex, that he just leans towards pretty people who seem like they might be a little bratty in bed, regardless of whether they're a guy or a girl. He likes feeling good and making others feel good and for years that's been enough. 

Until Steve.

He's been attracted to Steve for a while - a couple of years now, if he’s being honest with himself - though it's hard not to be when the guy won the fucking good gene lottery. His eyes, his mouth, those irresistible little moles and freckles scattered across his skin like stars. Eddie’s always thought he was pretty, even back when he had a shit personality, but now- 

Now that he knows what Steve is like when he’s protecting the people he cares about, when he wakes up shaking from a nightmare, when he just gets to be his genuine, goofball self without worry, well.

It took Eddie by surprise the first time he felt that swooping sensation in his gut, exactly the way Jeff had explained it to him. The fact that it was preceded by one of Steve’s blinding, sunshine smiles being directed straight at him helped the final pieces snap into place, and the completed puzzle laid before him could only spell out the realization of holy shit, I like Steve.

The feeling hasn’t dulled a bit in the two months since his epiphany, and he almost regrets that he hadn’t felt it sooner, back when he was living with Steve, back when he might have had a chance. 

Because now Eddie is jealous. He knows he doesn’t stand a chance with Steve now, because unfortunately, the younger boy seems to have his sights set on someone else. 

He doesn’t know exactly when Steve met her, but it’s been about a month since Eddie first heard this new crush mentioned in quiet conversation between Steve and Robin. It became pretty commonplace for Eddie to catch her name coming from one mouth or the other, and now. 

Just hearing the name Daisy makes Eddie's skin crawl with envy, especially because the two always stop talking about her when Eddie gets close. It’s like they don't want him to hear anything about this mystery girl, like they know he holds some sort of grudge against someone he’s never even met before.

It’s a stupid thought, but one he can’t shake, especially because it keeps happening, hushed conversations quickly cutting off the moment he’s within earshot. Eddie is beyond frustrated, but he keeps his mouth shut, knows it isn’t really his place to be upset about something that isn’t any of his business.

The night that shit finally hits the fan, they’re having a movie night with just the three of them, just Robin, Steve, and Eddie himself. 

Everyone else is busy - something not out of the ordinary with their ragtag bunch - and Eddie shows up a little earlier than they had agreed on. He doesn't think they know he's arrived, he can hear voices still flowing from the kitchen as he closes the front door behind him and heads deeper into the house.

" -don’t know why you keep putting it off! Just ask Daisy out already!" 

Eddie freezes just outside the doorway to the kitchen. He shouldn’t be listening, he knows that it will only make the ache in his chest worse, but he can’t bring himself to take those final steps to join them as Steve responds back.

“Come on, Robin, how many times are we gonna talk about this? I'm not- There's no way Daisy likes me like that."

“Well, I think you’re a self-sabotaging idiot, because you’re clearly wrong. Daisy is totally into you!”

A soft sigh. “Just… What if I’m not wrong? It could ruin everything between us, and I don’t want to lose Daisy because of my dumb feelings.”

“Steve…”

Eddie feels his heart sinking at the hopelessness in Steve’s voice, and decides he’s officially done listening to them talk about this. He steps into the room as casually as possible and they both go quiet - fucking again - as he says “Hey guys! What’s up?”  

Robin looks at Steve and makes a face that Eddie can’t decipher, and Steve shakes his head. The look on her face shifts into something determined and Steve goes a little pale as she turns to Eddie and says "Hey, Eddie! Perfect timing! Maybe you can help us figure something out?”

“Rob-”

Eddie shrugs as he goes into the fridge and grabs one of the sodas Steve keeps around for the kids. “Uh, sure, I can try.”

“Okay! So there's this girl Steve likes and he refuses to ask her out because he thinks she isn't interested in him!"

Eddie does his best to be nonchalant as he pops the tab on the can. "Is she?"

Robin and Steve reply at the same time, their "Yes!" and "No!" overlapping and leaving Eddie blinking as he processes their reactions. He makes a decision and turns to Robin, says "How do you know she likes him?"

Robin instantly looks smug and she leans in closer, almost conspiratorially. "She's not super obvious about it, but I've been watching! Any time she comes into the shop, she always leans against the counter and plays with her hair, and she gets this dopey look on her face whenever he isn’t looking at her.”

The swig of soda Eddie takes turns to ash in his mouth, and he swallows roughly as he turns to Steve, forcing himself to say “I dunno, man. Sounds to me like she’s pretty interested in you.”

Robin looks at Steve, a clear I told you so on her features that even Eddie can read. Steve pushes a hand through his hair, a nervous habit that makes Eddie want to take the hand in his own and hold it, to help sooth whatever worry Steve has. 

“I just don’t know. We don’t really like a lot of the same things, and I- I worry that she would get bored with me after a while.”

“Do you and Robin share everything in common? Do you like exactly the same things?”

The younger two blink at each other before Steve gives a hesitant “No, we don't,” and Eddie shrugs. 

“But you're still important to each other. Sometimes what makes you different only makes your relationship stronger. If this girl is worth anything, then you’ll both find a way to make your differences work.”

He points between himself and Steve. "Like us. You don't mind listening to me talk about D&D stuff, and you're the only person besides Wayne who can get me to sit and watch a sports game, because we care about each other's interests."

That little bit of advice feels like a big thing, especially when Steve looks at Eddie like he's shown him how to hang stars in the fucking sky. The wonder shining directly at him is a lot, it makes his heart thud behind his ribs, and he's thankful when it quickly fades into a soft smile.

Steve's response is a gentle “Okay. Okay, yeah, you're right. I’ll ask her out. Thanks, Eddie,” and even though he'd seen it coming, Eddie’s heart breaks. He shrugs it off, says "Yeah, of course, man. Let's uh, let's watch this movie, yeah?"

*

The rest of the night is - not tense, but there’s definitely something in the air that wasn’t there before. Eddie leaves almost as soon as the movie is over, brushing off Steve’s offer to stay the night in favor of heading back home to wrap himself in his blanket and think about exactly what he’s gotten himself into.

He knows that he can’t be around to see how this unfolds, to see Steve being sweet with some girl. He knows that the jealousy, this unfamiliar creature, will eat him alive from the inside out. Especially because he hasn’t seen Steve like this before. 

Usually Steve’s interest in a girl sparks and fades pretty quickly, a bright flash in the pan of his affections. The fact that he’s been hung up on this girl for a whole month - at least a month, he doesn’t actually know if it’s been longer - is actually a big deal.

No, Eddie can’t be around to see Steve’s courtship or whatever the fuck he’s going to try with Daisy. Instead he does something he’s not proud of and makes himself scarce, just running away from his problems again. 

Whenever Steve calls him to make plans, Eddie makes himself unavailable. He’s helping Wayne with something, or he’s hanging out with Gareth or Jeff, and he stops going by Family Video entirely. The only time he sees Steve is when they cross paths at the D&D sessions the kids roped him into running, and even then, Eddie manages to keep the interaction as brief as possible.

It works for a solid two weeks, until one Thursday afternoon, he finds Robin on the other side of his front door.

“I’m having a crisis. Can I come in?”

Eddie blinks and barely gets out a “Yeah, sure,” before she’s pushing past him and moving to sit on the nearby couch. He follows and takes the opposite end, one leg folded underneath him as he sits sideways, and she turns to face him.

“So, what’s your crisis, Birdie?”

“My crisis is that you’re avoiding Steve, and it’s making him upset.”

Oh. He hadn’t- no, okay, he had kind of been expecting this to be about Steve, but he hadn’t expected her to come right out and say it.

“I’m not avoiding him.”

“Oh, so he’s just going around being mopey and saying that you won’t hang out with him for absolutely no reason at all?”

Eddie gives a half-hearted shrug and leans into the back of the couch. “I don't always have to hang out with you guys, you know. I have other friends, other things to worry about. Besides, I thought he would be too busy with Daisy to even realize I was- not around as much.”

Robin’s eyes narrow, and for a brief moment Eddie knows just what it feels like to be a bug pinned to a display, laid out for someone to see to the very core of him. “Well, that’s also why I’m here. He’s tried asking her out but she keeps dodging the question, and things keep popping up that keep her from saying yes. I wanted to ask if you had any advice?”

Eddie punches down the glee that begins to bubble up and tries to be cool as he responds “You’re going to ask the guy who’s never been on a date for dating advice? For Steve Harrington?”

“You’ve been on dates! You’ve mentioned people you’ve been out with!”

“Yeah, to fuck, Robin. There was no actual dating involved.”

Robin flaps her hands a little in dismissal. “Okay, well just- Humor me for a second here. How do you think he should ask her out? Because obviously whatever he’s trying isn’t working.”

Eddie doesn’t want to do this. He doesn’t want to give Steve’s best friend advice on how he should ask out some girl, when all he wants is to have the younger boy all to himself. He wants to be selfish, to deny her request and send her on her way. 

Unfortunately, Steve's happiness seems to be his priority, even if it means he finds that happiness with someone else.

“Well, has he asked her out or has he asked her to hang out?”

“What’s the difference?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, motherfucking hell. “Okay, so like, I personally wouldn’t know if someone was asking me out unless they said it outright. ‘Hey, I like you and want to take you on a date, will you go out with me?’ If he’s just asking her to hang out then she may not realize he means it as a date, so he needs to be blunt.”

Robin blinks before she hums in understanding. “That makes a lot of sense, actually. If you- If she's never been on a date, then she wouldn't be familiar with the signs of romantic interest as opposed to purely sexual interest. So he should say it outright."

"Exactly."

"That actually does help, surprisingly. Thanks, Eddie."

"Glad my lack of experience could be of service to you, Birdie. Anything else I can help you with on this fine Thursday evening?"

She bites her lip, suddenly nervous, and Eddie almost regrets asking. “Just- do me a favor; when Steve asks you to hang out again, say yes, okay?”

Eddie can’t hold in his grimace as he says “And be forced to listen to him go on about his new girl? Yeah, no thanks.”

Robin goes completely silent and when he looks up at her, she's giving him that pointed stare again. 

"Eddie-" Oh no. "-are you jealous?"

He scoffs and cuts his eyes away from Robin, unable to look at her as he says "There's nothing to be jealous of, Robin."

“Oh, yeah, so you’re totally cool about Steve going out with Daaaisyyyy?”

His face must do something involuntarily, because Robin lets out a squeal and reaches across the short distance to slap him on the leg, a reaction that isn't uncommon for her but something that still takes Eddie by surprise every time.

“Fucking ow!”

“Holy shit, you like Steve! I knew it! I mean, I had my suspicions, but you totally fucking do, don’t you?”

Eddie shakes his head, pushes his hands into his hair and tugs slightly to release some of his quickly building anxiety.

“Nope, no, we’re not going to talk about this.”

“But Eddie-”

“Robin! Steve is literally in the process of trying to ask out some girl! My feelings don’t even factor into this situation, so fucking drop it!” He knows he being mean, but he can’t stop himself from snapping as he stares Robin down, as he watches the expression on her face shift- 

It’s like she’s just realized something terrible, something absolutely horrific, and she immediately backs off with a soft “Sorry…”

Eddie sighs and slumps into the couch, drags his hands down and presses his palms into his eyes until he sees spots. The silence between them is heavy for a moment before he feels Robin moving closer, and he finds himself suddenly wrapped in a hug. He leans into her, lets her hold him for a moment as she asks “What are you doing Saturday?”

“Nothing, as far as I’m aware.”

“Steve is on a closing shift, and I’m off. Maybe I could come over and we could watch something? Something weird that only we would like. As an apology for being pushy.”

The metalhead hums in consideration. “You have to bring the movie and the snacks.”

Robin just laughs and nods. “Yeah, deal.”

*

Eddie feels a little better over the next two days. Having someone else know, even if he didn’t really confirm it, leaves him feeling a bit lighter. He’s not worried about Robin telling Steve, he trusts her not to expose his feelings like that, and he finds himself really looking forward to spending some one-on-one time with the girl.

The knock sounds on the door half an hour earlier than Eddie expected, and he yells out a “Just a second!” as he quickly pulls his hair up into a loose ponytail. He’s freshly showered after doing a little work on his old van, and he’s dressed in a pair of pajama pants and a sweatshirt that he had swiped from Steve’s place - Robin’s sweatshirt, actually, if the ‘HHS Marching Band’ scrawled across the front is any indication.

“You’re early, Birdie! I thought we said-”

His sentence dies off as he opens the door to find Steve fucking Harrington on the other side. 

This is- It’s very much unexpected, and not the social encounter Eddie had been preparing himself for tonight, especially when Steve looks like actual perfection in a polo that hugs his arms and chest just right and brings out the greens in his hazel eyes.

“Steve? What are you doing here?”

Steve takes a breath, and Eddie gets the sense that he’s nervous, but why-

“I know that you’re expecting Robin, and I’m sorry for just springing this on you, but- Will you go out with me? On a date- a romantic date. Robin said you had planned for a movie night so I brought-” 

He lifts a hand and Eddie’s eyes cut down to see a bag clenched in one, and in the other a bouquet of red daisies that make Eddie’s heart stop. 

“I brought The Evil Dead and The Thing, and I uh, I made that pasta you like, literally pulled it off the stove before I came over.”

He’s looking at Eddie expectantly, but there’s so much to process and nothing makes sense, and Eddie can’t- He doesn’t -

“I don’t- I don’t understand what’s happening right now. You- You’re-”

Steve’s expression goes soft and he nods towards the trailer. “Can I come in?”

Eddie doesn’t say anything, just steps back so Steve can come inside, and watches as he sets the bag on the counter but keeps his hold on the flowers. Eddie closes the door behind them and asks “I thought you were working tonight?”

“Yeah, uhm. Robin took my shift so I could come over. She told me- And I had to-”

Steve pushes his free hand through his hair and Eddie waits, watches as he builds up the courage to-

“I like you, Eddie, I have for months. I think about you all the time, and I hate that you don’t live with me anymore, and I can’t- I thought I was being obvious about it, but I was wrong, so now I’m being blunt because apparently that’s what it’s going to take.”

Steve offers the bouquet to him, pushes it into the space between them, and Eddie’s eyes snap to the flowers as he gives a weak “But what- what about Daisy? You been talking to Robin about her for weeks, so-”

“Eddie, you’re Daisy."

He- What?

"What do you mean?"

"I couldn’t just talk about my feelings for you in the open. I never knew who would be around, if it would be safe, so I uh, I came up with a code name for you. It was actually Robin’s idea, but that’s probably not surprising. But, yeah. You're Daisy, I like you and I want- I want to be your boyfriend, Eddie. If that's what you want too?"

Eddie’s heart is racing. He almost can’t believe what Steve is saying, he actually-?

“I’ve never liked someone before.”

Steve blinks at Eddie’s admission, and the older continues before he loses the last of his nerve.

“You’re literally the first person I’ve ever liked, and I thought- For a long time I thought I was broken, that there might be something wrong with me, because having sex was never an issue but crushes and romance felt like an alien fucking concept. And then I spent four months getting to know you, the four best months of my entire life, and I realized that holy shit, I think I love Steve, and it’s-”

Eddie takes a breath, trying to steady himself as he takes in Steve’s wide-eyed expression. 

“No one told me how fucking terrifying it is, how big it feels, how mean it can make you. Every time I even heard the name Daisy I wanted to dig my nails into something and tear, because I didn’t want you to think about her, I wanted-”

He doesn’t realize he’s shaking until Steve steps into his space and reaches out, one big hand moving to grab his wrist, something that instantly helps ground him, and the other gently cupping his jaw.

“There is no girl, Eddie. Baby, sunshine. There’s just you, only you.”

And Eddie feels like he’s going to collapse. He jerks forward, arms wrapping around Steve and face pushing into the crook of his neck, and he’s grateful when Steve lets it happen, when he pulls Eddie close and just holds him, letting everything sink in.

His eventual “Yes,” is muffled by the fabric of Steve’s shirt, and the younger hums in question. Eddie pulls back so he can look at Steve properly as he clarifies. “You asked me out on a date, and you said you want to be my boyfriend, if that’s what I want. And yes, fuck yes, that’s what I want, Stevie.”

Steve beams at him, another one of those sunshine smiles that warms Eddie from the inside out. He watches as Steve pulls away and stoops to grab the flowers - he must have dropped them in his haste to comfort Eddie - and offers them a second time. Eddie takes them with a soft smile, can’t help but jibe “You know I don’t have a vase for these, right?” and Steve shrugs.

“We can trim them down, put them in one of the mugs. Vases are overrated anyway.”

Eddie laughs in agreement and sets out to do just that. He feels light as air as he and Steve move around the little kitchen, Eddie tending to the bouquet as Steve dishes out the pasta he brought into a couple of bowls.

It’s so nice. It’s just like when they were living together, the easy harmony that they had coming back to them so naturally, but now with a different undertone. Now, Steve touches his waist as he passes by, he lets Eddie lean into him, lets their fingers brush meaningfully as he hands over Eddie’s food. 

They eat right there at the counter, shoulders brushing as Steve talks about what happened yesterday at work, as Eddie recounts last night's D&D session with the kids. Eddie can’t stop smiling, he feels like fucking giggling, and Steve isn’t much better off, his eyes full of stars as he listens to Eddie talk.

Their first kiss tastes like red sauce and pasta, and Eddie is so unprepared for how it is to kiss someone when there are actual feelings involved. It only reinforces the buzz in the back of his mind, that distinct impression of home that he gets whenever he's around Steve.

They eventually end up on the couch, Eddie mostly in Steve's lap and arms wrapped around each other, and Eddie’s never felt so utterly content. 

They’re most of the way through The Thing when he tips his head up so he can look at Steve with a soft “So, I gotta ask… Of all the ‘secret code names’ you could have chosen for me, why Daisy?”

And Steve flushes. He looks away, and Eddie can feel him lacing their fingers together as he speaks.

“Don’t laugh, but uh, when I was little, my babysitter used to take me to the nearby park all the time. I was a pretty rambunctious kid, so it was a normal thing for us. One day we were walking to the park, and I saw that there was a daisy growing out of a crack in the sidewalk. I’d never seen something like that before, and I thought it was so cool, so I showed it to my babysitter. 

"She said ‘You know, sometimes people are like this daisy. Life puts them in a hard spot, and they think they won't ever be able to grow. But some daisies are stubborn, and make the choice to grow anyway.' And that’s what you are, Eddie. A stubborn little daisy, still growing despite the hard circumstances around you. That's why I picked it.”

He finally looks up to meet Eddie’s gaze and frowns, says a soft “Oh, baby,” as he reaches out and wipes at the tears building in Eddie’s eyes. Eddie grabs the hand and holds it to his cheek as he blinks back the waterworks, and he just feels so much-

“I fucking love you, Steve Harrington. I know it’s probably way too early to say that, but god, I need you to know that someone loves you.”

And Steve melts. That’s the only way Eddie can put it, his boyfriend - and god, what a crazy thing to even think - goes completely gooey as he leans in and presses his forehead to Eddie’s.

“After all the shit we’ve been through, I think we’re allowed to do things a little early, yeah? And, just so there’s no more confusion, I love you too.” 

*

A year later finds Eddie slowly pulled to consciousness, gently guided by the morning sunshine streaming in from a nearby window. It takes a moment for his sleepy brain to wake up, to register the feeling of Steve pressing feather-light kisses to the cluster of daisies that decorate the back of Eddie’s shoulder. He hums softly in approval and can almost feel Steve smile as he mutters “Morning, Daisy Bell,” against sleep-warmed skin.

Eddie huffs a laugh and turns just enough to capture Steve’s mouth with his own, morning breath be damned. 

“Mornin’, buttercup.”

[pistachi0art]

More Ben fam stuff I believe I have neglected to put here

[postazkabansiriussupremacy]

Meeting. Sirius x Shy!Reader

Reader get caught snooping around Grimmauld Place. Sirius doesn’t mind.

I got a request a while ago for Sirius meeting a Shy!Muggleborn!Former Hufflepuff!Reader and i accidentally deleted it 🥴 I don’t remember all the specifics of the request so i apologize for that 🙇🏻‍♀️

CW: None. It’s just dialog. Age gap if you squint.

Whilst exploring the Black home, you find yourself wandering into the library. Much like the rest of the house, it’s incredibly dusty and smells horribly like mothballs. All of the portraits are covered, which is probably for the best if they sound anything like Sirius’s mother.

You read through some of the book covers, and you find that some of them are written in languages you don’t recognize. Other books have titles such as “The Legacy of Pureblood Families”, “Tales of Wizarding Greatness”, and “Blood Purity and Wizarding Superiority”.

Dragging your finger across the book spines, you grumble to yourself. “My god.. Absolutely everything about this house is depressing.”

You jump at the sound of someone speaking behind you. “It wasn’t much better when I was growing up either.”

You startle and turn around to see Sirius leaning against the doorframe. You give him an apologetic smile and hope he doesn’t notice the small bit of blush rising to your cheeks. “Oh—uh—I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you were there.”

This is only the second time you’ve been to Grimmauld Place, and this is the first time you’ve had a one-on-one with Sirius. Insulting his childhood home probably isn’t the best start for a first impression.

To your surprise, Sirius chuckles and takes a few steps closer. You only just take notice of how tall he is. “Don’t be. No matter how much you dislike this house, I’m sure I hate it even more.”

“Oh. So it’s not a, uh..” You spot something on the shelf that looks oddly like a troll skull. You can only hope it’s not real. “Not a happy home, then?”

Sirius follows your eyes and looks unsmiling at the skull. “I think you can draw your own conclusions based on the decor alone.”

You find yourself struggling to come up with something to say that don’t sound rude. Small talk was never your strong suit, and that rings especially true when trying to talk to men that are as handsome as Sirius. “It’s, uh… different. That’s for sure.”

“You’re from a muggle family, right?” Sirius asks, casually switching the conversation to a much easier topic.

“Yeah,” You nod with a small smile, trying to brush off any embarrassment you feel. “I never had any pureblood friends, so I was always kinda curious what their homes may look like.”

“That so?” He asks, looking down at you with eyebrows raised. “I was under the impression you knew Charlie from Hogwarts.”

“I knew of him.” You correct with a shrug, struggling to maintain eye contact with the incredibly handsome man. “He was quite popular, but we were in different houses and he was already a sixth year by the time I started school.”

Sirius looks a bit surprised by that. His gray eyes widen ever so slightly and a small smile rises on his lips. “Ah, well let me guess… A Hufflepuff?”

You nod and subconsciously return his smile. “How’d you figure that?”

He shrugs a little and his eyes give you a once over. “You’re too lovely to be a Slytherin, and not quite strange enough to be a Ravenclaw.”

It’s only a small and casual compliment, so you aren’t sure why it flatters you so much. Your brain practically short circuits. You suppose when words of praise come from the lips of a tall, strikingly handsome older man they hit a lot harder than they probably should.

Before you have the chance to thank him, he continues talking. You can’t help but feel grateful that Sirius carries the conversation so easily. “Are you sticking around for dinner?”

“Yeah,” You nod. “Tonks invited me—if that’s alright.”

“Yes, of course.” He smiles, stepping toward the door and raising his hand in a gesture for you to walk in front of him. You aren’t sure if it’s your imagination or if he just winked at you. “Stay for drinks as well, if you’re interested.”

[adudelolwriting]

(reblogs > likes!)

Tim and Jay were sitting next to each other on the ratty couch that they had recently bought, sharing one blanket together as they watch shitty horror movies together. Jay was resting his head on Tim's shoulder, taking comfort in the other's heartbeat (which totally didn't spike whenever there was a jumpscare, sure). 

Suspenseful music played as a creature stalks the main character — some blond girl Jay couldn't remember the name of when a knock on their real door caused the two to jump, hastily pausing the horror movie. 

"It's after midnight, why is someone knocking?" Jay whisper-hissed as he feels his nerves light on fire. Tim gets up and grabs a metal baseball bat, and Jay is half tempted to grab his camera and record — but he promised Tim, so he ripped his eyes away from the camcorder and focused on Tim.

Tim adjusted the bat in his grasp, slowly unlocking the door. He swung it open and jumps back, prepared to swing at whatever—

"Brian?" 

Brian? "What?" Jay looks past Tim's shoulder, and sure enough — it was Brian sheepishly standing at the door, hands raised in the air. He was dirty and covered in mud (or blood) and had several rips and tears in his clothes. His hair was long and matted, and parts of the hoodie were torn off and wrapped around as makeshift bandages.

"I thought you were dead." Tim seemed hesitant. Tim had watched Brian die, Alex even taunted it. But here Brian was, standing in front of them, looking like he went through hell and back. Which, they all had, but it looks ten times worse for Brian right now. 

"I'm glad you guys haven't moved," Brian sighs, keeping his hands out of his pockets. "I… I don't remember a lot from the past few years, but… I — My phone, it was open to a Youtube channel that you guys made..? I watched a few of them, and — I don't remember any of it."

Tim glanced back at Jay, who shrugged. Jay jerked his head, and Tim rolled his eyes before moving out of the way of the doorframe. "Come in. I — A lot happened."

Brian did as he was told, and in the light it was so much easier to see the deepened eyebags around him. The light stubble he had worn during college had shifted into a complete five o'clock shadow. Jay guided him to the couch, glancing between Tim and Brian. "Do you want any water, or anything?" Jay asks, helping Brian sit down. The taller one shook his head. "Okay. Uh. What's the last thing you remember?"

…

……

College. 

The last thing Brian remembers was back in college.

Eight years ago. Brian lost eight years of his life, not in control, being manipulated by something nonhuman. 

Jay and Tim listened in stunned silence. Quickly enough, they explained what had happened during those eight years — particularly the past five, when Jay was recording everything and archiving it online. They explain ToTheArk, Hoodie's response channel, or whatever its cryptic messages were, and how Hoodie had tried to help them in its own way. 

Benedict Hall was fuzzy for Jay, and so Tim took over, gratefully passing over the whole Alex shot and nearly killed Jay bit. Tim hesitantly says that he saw Hoodie die. That Hoodie was left on the concrete flooring before being taken by the Operator. 

It shouldn't be possible. You don't come back from the dead.

But yet, both Jay and Brian sat in front of Tim. Jay, who was shot and nearly bled to death, who was only able to run away from the Operator from pure adrenaline. And Brian, who fell, cracking his skull, bleeding out — the one who didn't escape from the Operator, somehow in front of Tim right now, here, alive.

(If only the same could be for the Operator's other victims. Seth, Amy, Sarah. Jessica. Alex himself.)

God, Tim could cry right here. Brian was here. Brian was alive. 

But… Tim isn't. The old Tim, the one who Brian knew, who he was friends with, that Tim was dead. Dead left and forgotten the moment the Operator leached onto Alex, the moment he hunted them, tried to kill them.  

Instead, it was this broken shell of a man left. So much trauma hollowed out Tim's body to save itself, to carve out every last little bit that Tim had. 

(That's not true, he reminds himself, you're here with Jay. He's helped you.)

Tim felt something squeeze his hand, and he looked up to meet Jay in the eyes. Tim likes to think that during their time together, Tim had been able to learn how to read Jay well. He saw dozens of thoughts floating in the other's head. Concern happy worried concern wary trust concern concern.

Tim puts a small smile on his face. Okay happy trust.

Jay nods, and turns to Brian. "Do… Do you want some new clothes? You've… been wearing that — that hoodie for way too long, and, uh… it's not a great thing." 

Brian startled, as if now just realizing that. "Oh — yes, dude, please. This stinks so badly." He quickly peeled the hoodie off of himself, wincing when it brushed the back of his head. The poor thing had been Brian's favorite article of clothing — he called it a comfort hoodie? Or something like that.

It's seen better days, that's for sure. The sleeves were torn and falling apart, holes covered the sleeves, the pocket seam was coming undone. Not to mention the several stains the thing had — from dirt to grass stains to blood. It looked like it was eight years old, truely.

Brian handed it off to Jay, who's face wrinkled when he picked it up. "I dunno if this'll, uh… live after a wash." Jay glanced to Brian, who's face fell before shaking it off. "No, yeah, that makes sense…"

"I'll try it, maybe. Put it on an easy setting. I'll be right back with a shirt," Jay said before walking out of the room, leaving Tim and Brian alone. It still didn't feel real. It's been how long? Six months? And Tim had grieved over Brian. They held a mock funeral for him a week after it all ended.

Only to see Brian alive. 

(Alive, alive, alive.)

"This isn't a dream, right?" Tim mostly spoke to himself, falling onto the couch. "You're here? You're actually here?"

"I'm here," Brian said, a smile on his face, proudly displaying the tooth gap he had. Tim watched as the corners of his eyes crinkle, the dimple on his face showing itself. All the small details Tim had nearly forgotten about. Tim lurched forward, pulling Brian into a hug, tightly clinging to the other.

Brian wrapped his arms around Tim, whispering quiet nothings and silent promises. Just like late nights during college, the two held onto each other and wept. Tim cried for the first time since college. The last time he cried was the last time he held onto Brian, clinging onto his shirt back in their small bedroom. 

If he tried hard enough, he could pretend everything was okay, that it was just the homework piling up again, or some rude students, or whatever stupid excuse to pretend their reality wasn't the real one. Too fall back into a false fantasy. 

Tim heard Jay clear his throat, and he pulled away from Brian. A Brian who went through eight years worth of trauma and abuse, but remembers none of it. A Brian who has been damaged but doesn't know how. A Brian who is still full of so much love, who could never hurt his friends. 

"Sorry," Tim mumbles, glancing away from the other two. He… when was the last time he was hugged, besides just now? "Didn't… mean to cry all over you."

"Dude, Tim, you're fine. You looked like you needed it." Brian tells Tim before taking the shirt that Jay was offering. "I'm not as uh, tall as you, so it'll probably be a bit short, sorry." Brian waves him off, putting on the clean shirt and physically relaxing.

"Gods, it feels nice to be in a clean shirt again," Brian sighed, before glancing down at one of the yellow stripes of fabric tied around his arm. "I wonder what happened to me," he said, poking at the makeshift bandage. 

"A lot happened to all of us," Jay sighs, joining them on the couch, sitting on the other side of Tim. "It's… It's over now, though, we don't have to worry about it anymore."

"We can get you some meds, like the ones I took in college," Tim says, looking into Brian's eyes, "they help with any… symptoms from the Operator."

"Symptoms?" Brian asked, confused. 

"Yeah, they're brutal. Migraines, dizziness, confusion. Seizures. Waking up in the middle of Rosswood with no idea how you got there," Tim says, head leaning onto the back of the couch. "The coughing sucks. It never truly goes away, either. At least I'm not coughing up blood all the time, you know?"

"....No??" Brian looks very concerned. "Are you okay? This shit — it sounds like it's even worse than it was!"

"Heavy contact with the Operator does that," Tim says with a simple shrug. "The pills help, though. The hooded figure, er — you, I guess, stole them from me a lot." He really didn't like to think of Brian, out in the middle of the woods, struggling by himself. 

"How are you just — so calm over this?"

"We've had eight years," Jay speaks up from the other side of Tim. "Well, probably closer to five, or something. But you just gotta go with the flow for this kinda stuff and hope it doesn't get you killed." 

Brian's eyes flash over to Jay, trying to scan him. 

He was… so much more different than the Jay Brian remembers. They both were. Brian, he had watched a few of the Marble Hornets youtube videos, skipping through them. 

Brian remembers watching one where Tim and Jay were arguing in a parking lot, in the middle of the night. But they seemed… better now. Were they free from the torment haunting them? "God…" Brian muttered, running a bare hand through his nasty hair. "This is so much. So much happened. And I was a part of that."

"It's —" Brian doesn't miss the glance Jay shoots Tim. "It's fine. We're glad you're uh, alive. We thought you were dead." 

"You weren't in control of yourself, Brian," Tim speaks up, squeezing one of Brian's hands. "It — something similar happened to me, with a masked guy. You weren't in control of yourself."

Brian's voice cracks as he speaks, "something like this happened to you too?"

"Yeah. I think the, uh… the hooded figure liked to steal my meds to bring out the masked guy. That's one of my theories, anyway," Tim says. "I think… that everyone who is affected by the Operator gets some weird time fuckery shit happen to them. I would lose days to weeks of my life 'cause of it."

Jay hums. "I lost seven months, one time. Woke up in the hotel with no idea how I got there."

"At least you woke up in a bed," Tim chuckles, a smile on his face. "Most of the time I woke up face down in the mud."

Brian watches as Jay and Tim laugh at that, an inside joke. A smile fell on Brian's face — at least they seemed happier now. Hell, they looked healthier. Jay didn't have any eyebacks nearly as deep under his eyes, and he didn't look like he was slowly starving to death, either.

Tim looked better, too. Happier. He wasn't constantly looking over his shoulder, and his eyes shone brighter. 

…

A few hours had passed since Brian knocked on the door. It was probably close to four am, and Brian had shuffled off to use their shower. "I can't believe he's been alive this whole time," Jay whispered, leaning against Tim. "We can't just kick him out after this, right?"

"Of course not," Tim whispered back, listening to the shower run through the nearby wall. "We can't — We're the only ones left, Jay. We have to stick together."

Jay hums in acknowledgement. "Might have to sleep on the couch for a while. We only have the one bed. Could move it into the bedroom, though, if he wants to be nearby. God knows I would…"

"I'm fine with that, if he is. We'll ask him once he gets out there."

Eventually, Brian leaves the shower and agrees to sleep in the same room as the pair. Together, they all lift and move the couch into the bedroom, pushing it up under a window. 

It doesn't matter, though. By the time morning comes, the three were in the same bed, under the same blanket, cuddling together. I could get used to this, Brian thought, snoring slightly in his sleep. 

[romance-rambles]

AN APPRORIATE STARING DISTANCE

While at the beach, you take a moment to appreciate your handsome boyfriend while he's taking a nap—and also when he's not.

— word count: 1.2k

— pairing: [modern] clarence clayden x little painter/you

— tags: romantic fluff, established relationship, takes place during azure island phase 1 [no spoilers for the event stories tho]

— notes: absolutely wild that my first time writing for clarence happens to be modern ver, not archmage!! anyways, this is the screenshot you can blame for this silly lil fic's existence.

return to lbc masterlist | series: none

NAVY BLUE STICKS OUT TO you the moment you open your eyes.

Your aching shoulder protests your decision to stay as you are, on your side, facing a still sleeping Clarence. Like this, he looks much younger—you're reminded of the time you had to force him to take a nap. Like this, he's simply the cute guy you managed to score not one but multiple dates with, just Clarence, instead of the incredibly smart and wonderful and kind Student Council President.

You glance at the circular table set between your two beach chairs, taking note of his glasses resting primly upon its surface. With him often having to juggle two different kinds of glasses, you'd offered to put them in your bag so that he could pack lighter. Or, as light as he can.

Right now, it's awkwardly squished behind you, miraculously still on the chair only because it's too big to fall out the gap under the armrest.

Filling in the blanks comes as easily to you as the smile on your face when you get to see your boyfriend, nearly the same one on your face right now—and the expression that goes with it is so endlessly fond that you find yourself with the urge to hit something.

Simply put, your boyfriend is a handsome man—the most handsome one, of all the men your keen eyes have gazed upon. And gazed, they certainly have. But even if they didn't have to pick, then they would gaze at only Clarence for the rest of their life..

You almost giggle at the thought, but think against it at the last minute.

But pressing your lips firmly into a thin line has the opposite effect on your budding smile. You imagine you look rather strange to anyone who passes by—what with your mockery of a wide smile and the silent scream building up in your throat, paired with the quiet thumping of your feet against the legrest.

If you were in a more private space, you would resort to kicking instead.

A proper squish to your still warm cheeks as you begin to sit up helps ease up the passion swirling chaotically across your body. You exhale, then allow your hands to slide off your face. One side of it bears the consequences of your actions more than the other.

With a one last longing at the sleeping Clarence, you start to dig through your bag for the only thing in your arsenal that could substitute for a sketchbook.

There are a few miscellaneous promotion emails waiting for you on the lockscreen. A message from Cael asking about dinner tomorrow too. Somewhere between them, there's a notice about the weather, with the temperature from an almost hour ago listed uselessly.

You swipe past them all and hurriedly slip into the camera app.

The hand holding your phone steadies itself against the armrest as you swing your legs over the edge of your chair. A thumb hovers over the capture button, vigilantly awaiting your command. The fingers of your other hand, meanwhile, busy themselves with zooming in on the captivating scenery.

With each pinch, the focus grows ever narrow—until all that remains is Clarence and nothing else.

At one point, you try to zoom into the mole under his eye, but it doesn't make for a very compelling photo. After a few attempts, quite a few of which involve staring at your screen for prolonged periods of time, you reluctantly give up.

Your pout is soon covered up by your phone. When its front camera presses against your upper lip, your gaze is free to wander back to the sleeping beauty beside you once more.

A healing effect, exclusive to him, takes hold of you instantaneously.

Eyes brimming with fondness narrow slightly. You slide off your beach chair, hands on your bent knees as you take a closer look. You can make out the shadows cast by his long lashes and the drool dribbling past his chin.

He's perfect.

You're content to stay there until your knees begin to ache, reminding you insistently that this isn't a very comfortable position to be in. As a compromise of some kind, you adjust your arms atop the nearby armrest.

It really would be better if you'd brought your sketchbook along—but, you think, remembering his workaholic tendencies, would he even bother to take a nap then?

You scrunch your nose up at the thought.

In that moment, Clarence seems sense to your presence. When you look back at him, you're greeted with the sight of confusion in his now opened, but still drowsy gaze. He blinks, and it earns him an amused grin from you.

"Morning," you say, though it's well into afternoon.

That seems to wake him up. His cheeks flush a warm pink, and he hurriedly wipes away the drool on his face, as though you haven't already committed the sight to your memory.

Clearing his throat, he responds in kind, careful to sit up in such a way that he avoids looking at you.

"You don't have to be so close...I can see you just fine."

You laugh, not unkindly. "What if I'm the one who's having trouble?"

For a moment, when he turns back to look at you, he looks alarmed. Then, his shoulders relax to the tune of a sigh, his groggy mind apparently having caught onto the fact that you were joking.

Without breaking eye contact, you reach for his glasses. But as with the issue of walking into a cave without a flashlight, even if you vaguely recall where your destination is, there's no guarantee you'll actually reach it.

"Give me a second," you mutter, your annoyance making your tone a bit too sharp.

You follow your words up with an apology. His glasses held are carefully by the frames as your sheepish gaze connects with his faintly amused one. Clarence reaches out, getting as far as grasping the slanted tips of the frame before the two of you reach a mutual agreement.

"Well." His cheeks return to being a rosy hue. He coughs politely. "If you would."

Cute. Biting your lip giddily, you shake his grip off. A quick once-over of your surroundings before you stand up shows that no one seems to be paying attention to you. And unless your friends and acquaintences have come to together to unlock the secrets of invisibility, no one you know seems to be present either.

Leaning over, you line his glasses up against his face, the tips of his frame brushing against his cheek. It takes only a moment to slot them into place—and you have enough experience with doing so that they don't snag against his ears.

It takes only a moment longer to give him an innocent peck on the lips.

"There," you murmur, not entirely satisfied with the kiss.

His Adam's apple bobs. Clarence adjusts his glasses with an awkward look that suggests he has some kind of solution to your dilemma. You, of course, beat him to the punch.

"Why—" Your voice cracks a little. "—don't we go find a different spot?"

He smiles, narrowed eyes watching you fondly. "I was about to suggest the same thing."

[virsancte]

good days aren't easy to come by

[wanderingcoyotes]

GUYS I CAN STILL DRAW I PROMMY

(not intended nor drawn as a ship but idrc if u see it as that at this point. i think they're good buddies and i love them)

bonus version without all the very. drastic shading/lighting under cut

(they look BALD !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

[stardestroyer81]

@shrimpuufriend told me that Capcom had recently released never-before seen concept art of the original Rockman (Which you can find here!), and it is the coolest thing EVER.

That said, I wanted to be the first person to make something based off of the newly surfaced concept art, so I took one featured sketch of Rockman and turned it into its own sprite piece, complete with a faux beta title screen I craftily edited into the manual! 💙✨

[mewymarsher]

Armorless Bass design for my Wily Dies AU since he cannot run around on the streets in his full armor or else people might scream a little bit maybe.

[airawisteria]

[ID: 2 digital drawings of Qiu Lin from Our Life: Now & Forever. The drawings have Qiu sitting down, cross legged and putting both their hands on their cheeks. The design used was a Step 2 design with the longer hair version. They are looking to the left and pouting. They are wearing some orange lipstick.

The image on the left has Qiu in a blue, frilly dress. The top part of the dress is a dark blue with the skirt part progressively becoming a lighter blue per skirt layer. The background goes from a dark blue to a lighter blue.

The image on the right has Qiu in a yellow, orange and red, frilly dress. The top part of the dress is a pale yellow with the skirt part progressively going from a pale orange to a reddish orange per skirt layer. The background goes from a pale yellow to a brighter yellow.

Both drawings have the genderfluid flag surrounding Qiu.]

[nonuggetshere]

PK: "...Kid..."

PV: "What? I'm just pointing out the obvious."

PK: "You're being a little shit is what you are."

WL: "Well, they're not wrong–"

PK: "Don't enable this."

(ID start: A picture of The Pale King, The White Lady and the Pure Vessel from Hollow Knight as humans. They're all wearing matching golden roses, a pin for Pure Vessel, a hair clip for the Pale King and a corsage for the White Lady. The Pure Vessel has their hand at the head height of their father, laughing about his height with their mother, much to the displeasure of the king. End ID.)

They're making fun of the monochronic manlet

[valentinoappreciator]

Valentino tries to drown you 💞

Media: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Valentino x female reader

Rating: E for explicit

Word count: 1.5k

Tags / warnings: Dubious consent / bordering on non-con, Valentino being a jerk as per canon, impromptu waterboarding, PIV sex, filming, porn making ????, anyway!

Author's notes: I tried to write waterboarding, but I was SO certain I knew what waterboarding actually was that I didn't look it up until I was 500-ish words into the fic, before I realized 'hey I better make double sure I actually write this correctly', and then... can you guess what??? I DID NOT, IN FACT, KNOW WHAT WATERBOARDING IS 😩 So anyway, have Valentino trying to drown you, because I could not be assed to correct this 'little' mistake 😔

-----------------------------

The camera was on. The red dot blinked lazily. Without a care in the world. Unhurried. 

Unlike your heartbeat. 

No, your heart was galloping. Racing like a wild horse over the steppes, it was almost enough to make you queasy, and definitely enough that you visibly trembled where you stood. 

“Aww, amorcito, are you nervous?” Valentino asked with a wide grin, his golden tooth catching the light and nearly blinding you. 

“Why wouldn’t I be? It’s fucking waterboarding!”

“You’re the one who agreed,” he pointed out as he stalked closer. For a change, he had his sleeves rolled up, and your eyes were immediately drawn to his arms. He didn’t look strong, but you knew better. Valentino could hold you down so easily it was embarrassing, and that’s with just two hands. 

“Now, why don’t you let daddy kiss you all better?”

You automatically took a step back, and ended up bumping against the sink. It was full of cold water. 

You laughed nervously. 

“I-I think I changed my mind,” you croaked, digging your fingers into the marble and getting your hands and wrists wet. 

“Oh yeah? That’s too bad. I was looking forward to drowning you,” Valentino said. He sounded so genuine, so painfully sincere, that you nearly fell for it. But only until he grabbed you by the hair, forcefully turned you around, and shoved your face into the sink. 

Your first mistake had been to allow Valentino this close. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. He knew everything about you. Your weaknesses and desires, your fears and strengths. There wasn’t a thing he didn’t know. And even if there had been, Vox would have his back, filling him in next time they saw each other. 

You struggled fiercely in his grip, sloshing water everywhere. Vaguely, you could hear Valentino laugh in that mocking tone of his. 

Your second mistake had been to allow Valentino to talk you into selling your soul to him. Being owned by a sadistic, psychopathic pimp was not how you had imagined you would spend your afterlife. Alas, that was your position. 

Trying to push yourself away from the sink, Valentino pushed your head further into the water. You began panicking. Your mouth was closed tightly, but you wanted to scream. 

Your third mistake was to actually try and scream. Instantly, water flooded your mouth, and you began choking mere seconds later. 

When Valentino hauled your head back up, you gasped, inadvertently inhaling even more water into your already wet lungs. 

“Oh, come now,” he cooed, “you’re not giving up already, are you?” His long, claw-like fingers were tight in your hair, digging into your scalp. You didn’t doubt for a second that they drew blood. 

No words left you, only ragged, raspy panting. You grabbed the sink so hard your knuckles turned white. Your legs trembled fiercely, threatening to give out. Your breathing was wet and shallow, not to mention painful. Each puff of air was followed by the strongest coughing fit you had ever experienced, your body desperately trying to expel the water in your lungs. 

Valentino was, quote-unquote, kind enough to let you get your bearings before he dunked your head under the water once more. The small reprieve was a huge relief, but the fear was ice cold and tangible when he tried to drown you once more. 

This time, you didn’t scream, but you struggled even harder. It was pure instinct. Trying to keep your mouth shut was, largely, unsuccessful, and you still ended up inhaling quite a bit of water. 

What made you freeze, however, was the way Valentino spread your shaking legs with so much ease it was pathetic. You didn’t even struggle! Too focused on not drowning, you shuddered and clamped your mouth and eyes tightly shut. Muffled, seeming to come from far away, Valentino laughed mockingly again. 

When he finally pulled you above water once more, he hauled you up to his chest, his grip of your hair tight enough to pull out a few strands. 

“Remember,” he snickered, “you can only die from an angelic weapon. And don’t worry, babycakes, this water ain't holy. It won’t kill you. At least not permanently.”

“Please,” you rasped wetly, knuckling the sink. You coughed painfully, through wet hair looking into the mirror where you saw Valentino grinning back at you. The sick grin only grew bigger when you pleaded. 

“Are you not having fun? Are you not thrilled by my indulging you?” 

You grit your teeth. Valentino yanked your hair, pulling you flush against his body. It was wonderfully warm, compared to the coldness of the water and fear, and for a second, the briefest of seconds, you found yourself wishing he would embrace you. 

“Doll?” he purred, but now there was an underlying threat in that singular word. It was in the way his eyes narrowed slightly. It was in the way his fingers tightened in your hair. It was in the way he clicked his tongue when you didn’t immediately answer. 

“Yes, daddy.” 

Admitting defeat, you shuddered when Valentino chuckled darkly in your ear. Your head hung forward, your breathing wet, loud, and raspy. 

“Good girl.” 

Your body trembled almost violently. A few weak coughs escaped you. 

“Now, just relax. Let me take care of you, baby.” 

He crooned into your ear, and you loathed how easily you submitted to him. His scent was so strong, so overpowering, and it felt as if you had no other choice but to succumb to his devious, sinful ways. 

“Yes, daddy,” you rasped, closing your eyes. 

“Don’t I always treat my girls with respect?”

No.

“Yes, daddy.” 

“Good. Now, relax, and this won’t hurt a bit.”

You whimpered quietly. Your entire body tensed. 

“I said, relax,” he snarled, and you knew better than to struggle. 

So, despite not quite relaxing, you also didn’t fight it when Valentino pressed you against the sink with two hands, his other two going to free his cock. When it slapped against your rear, you shuddered. You had always loved his cock, but right now... well, it’s not like you had a choice right now. 

The head was already leaking pre-cum. Wet and slimy, Valentino let out a quiet hiss when he let it rub against the cleft of your ass. With two hands, he spread your cheeks.

“You may play the role well, doll, but you can’t run from it.”

“Run from what?” you whispered hoarsely. 

“The simple fact that you like this,” he said darkly. With one other hand, he grabbed his cock, and with the last one, he parted your labia slightly, making you shudder. 

“The simple fact is,” he continued, crooning against your ear as he guided his throbbing cock to your hole, “that you’re a whore.”

He drawled out the slur while at the same time pushing inside you, pulling a wretched moan from between your gritted teeth. Snickering darkly, Valentino plunged deep inside you, until his hips rested against your ass. Letting go of your ass cheeks, labia, and his cock, he instead reached around to fondle your tits. 

He let out a deeply heartfelt groan as he squeezed them in his hands. His grip was so tight it was verging on painful, and you whimpered, making a grimace that he caught in the mirror. 

“Oh? Don’t you like daddy’s treatment?” he grinned, pinching your nipples harshly and forcing you to cry out. “You wound me, babygirl, absolutely wound me, with such cruelty!”

You were about to cry out again, his fingers tugging roughly at your nipples, but the sound died in your throat when Valentino, in one swift motion, pulled back and then slammed deep and hard inside you once more. 

And, just like that, the mood was set - his thrusts were deep and ruthless, his grip tight enough to bruise, and his red, sticky saliva dripped out of his mouth. It landed in the water, in your hair, and on your back, where it trickled down your body. There was so much of it; it was, on one hand, ridiculously disgusting, and on the other, ridiculously hot. 

“Daddy, please,” you managed to croak, seconds before Valentino dunked your head underwater. 

Unable to keep your mouth closed, you inhaled so much water you genuinely thought you were going to drown. You choked and struggled against him, but his grip was much too strong for your thrashing to bear fruit. Screaming did, incredibly, nothing but allow more water to enter your lungs. 

Valentino kept fucking into you, and despite the sloshing of water, and the sound of his voice being muffled, you could hear him moan loudly. Each of his thrusts jerked your body, and your head repeatedly knocked against the sink. 

You were halfway unconscious when he pulled you out of the water again. Your body was mostly limp, and your head lolled from side to side. Valentino merely laughed, slapping you across the face a few times. 

“Wakey-wakey, my little darling,” he cooed, his usual wide, trademark grin on his face, “we’re not even close to being done.”

[undyinglantern]

the amount of surprised pika “wait people actually shave their arms?” comments on posts about body hair are so funny like I unironically am so happy for you that you weren’t laughed at by a classmate for having hairy arms “like a man” in like 4th grade this is why I wish body hair conversations would stop centering around armpit hair