#...with a dash of comfort

[chimchiri]

Tank to the rescue

[msmk11]

Pretty Boy

Harry Potter x fem!reader

WC: 563

CW: mentions of the Dursleys being neglectful; FLUFF

Summary: You love to make your boyfriend embarassed

Day 21 of mk's mad dash

Sadly, your boyfriend grew up without any affection from his family. So, it was no surprise that any affection he was shown was foreign to him. And, in some cases, maybe even a little embarrassing. You remembered the early days of your relationship- how even a peck on his cheek or a hug would make him blush furiously. With time, of course, he became more comfortable in your affection and even initiated it himself. Still, occasionally, you were able to bring back out his shy side, intentionally or not. 

In this instance, you were very intentional about trying to make your boyfriend blush. After he’d called you pretty girl a few weeks ago and left you a flustered mess, you were determined to get revenge. 

You decided to act completely unassuming, only throwing the term of endearment back in his face when he was most vulnerable and sweet in your arms. 

After a long Friday of classes, you brought Harry back to your dorm to cuddle and relax, simply enjoying one another’s presence. You snuck some food from the kitchens that now left you both feeling stuffed and satisfied. In your current position you were laying sprawled out, back on the bed and Harry nearly entirely on top of you.

In your post-dinner bliss, you two had gone mostly silent, reveling in each other’s company and touch. You absentmindedly ran your fingers through Harry’s wild black hair, pursuing a pointless mission of trying to untangle his curls. 

Your boyfriend’s face was buried in your neck, occasionally pressing gentle kisses to your skin when the urge presented itself. 

When your fingers made their way to the nape of his neck, Harry hummed softly against you.

“Feel good, Haz?”

“Yeah, baby. So good. Love when you play with my hair,” he sighed.

You pressed a kiss to the crown of his head, “Good. You deserve to be spoiled, you know.”

“Why? ‘Cos my parents are dead?” he mumbled.

To those who didn’t know your boyfriend, this type of comment would’ve left them floored. But for you, who was used to his dark humor, you only laughed disbelievingly, squeezing his arm chidingly, “Harry!”

“Well?”

You pressed another fond kiss against his skin, this time to his cheek, “You deserve to be spoiled because I love you and because you’re a sweet boy.”

Then more quietly you whispered, “my sweet boy.”

Harry raised his head from its home in your neck and pecked your lips lovingly, “love you, baby.”

You knew that now was the time to strike. 

“I love you too, my pretty boy.”

Your boyfriend’s face went from loving to embarrassed in seconds, his brown skin coloring red. 

He whined and buried his face back in your neck.

“What’s wrong my love,” you asked teasingly.

“You know what’s wrong,” he grumbled, “you did it on purpose.”

“Did what on purpose?”

Harry looked back up at you, the most adorable pout gracing his lips, “You called me…. pretty boy…. just to make me embarrassed.”

“I said what I meant,” you answered honestly, “though the teasing was a benefit.”

Your boyfriend continued to pout at you, “I hate you.”

“You love me,” you reminded him, “Otherwise you wouldn’t feel so embarrassed right now.”

“Fine,” he huffed, rolling his eyes, “Whatever you say, pretty girl.”

And damn him, because now you were the one left a blushing mess.

[cordiallyfuturedwight]

i really wanna, wanna, wanna just dance ♡

for @senor-hoberto 🌷| cr. 0613data

[ventique-genshin]

A wish

art is platonic

[starscelly]

it's that time of year again... new fans! old fans! general inquiring minds!!! i present to you this year's dallas stars primer!! as always, based more on Vibes and Personality than the cold hard facts (but there are cold hard facts). slides last updated as of April 3rd, 2024 (:

huge huge huge thank you to @oetter @saltandpepperbox and @stickypucky for constantly reading over my work and helping add to this <3 <3

as always if there's any further questions do not hesitate to send me an ask or message!! enjoy!!!! slides below + small blurb about starsblr community for those curious/interested

(click to make the images larger/easier to read)

AS OF APRIL 5th 2024: MAVRIK BOURQUE HAS BEEN CALLED UP FROM THE AHL, LIKELY DUE TO AN ON-AND-OFF INJURY SUSTAINED BY TYLER SEGUIN. CURRENT AHL LEADING SCORER (SINCE STANK HAS BEEN CALLED UP) AND VERY FUN AND FRENCH CANADIAN (:

If after reading all of this, you're interested in becoming more involved with the stars and stars community, please know on starsblr we are sooo insanely welcoming!!!! the lb tag is extremely active and has some of the funniest, nicest people you'll ever meet. we also have such a blessedly large gifmaking community, some great artists, and of course phenomenal fic writers, so there's no shortage of silliness and vibes. I really encourage you to scroll the tags and consume all of this work because it is truly SUCH a fun, lively place here!!

and again, as always, my dms and inbox are always open <3

[steddielations]

It’s the stupid Garfield mug that does it.

Eddie tries to hide it because he doesn’t want to seem ungrateful to Steve, but he gets lonely sometimes.

He’s still in hiding, mostly healed up from the bats, staying with Steve while they wait for Hopper to sweep it all under the rug. No one would ever expect Eddie Munson to be at Steve Harrington’s house, it’s the perfect cover.

Not only was Steve surprisingly nice enough to let Eddie stay there, he also took care of him through the worst of it. He didn’t seem to mind having to stay home every night and every weekend, definitely not what Eddie was expecting from the party boy he used to hate from afar.

Now Steve’s the nice guy who spoon-fed Eddie soup and gave him orange juice through a damn straw and even helped him to the bathroom when he could barely move.

He’s too nice and sweet and funny sometimes. He even has a beat up copy of Lord of the Rings from Dustin that he squints at until Eddie gets tired of watching him strain, then let’s Eddie read to him. Eddie knows Steve does it more for him than for himself. Hell, Steve even comes home right after work most days, just to keep Eddie company.

Eddie can’t have many visitors, they don’t want to raise suspicion with too much traffic at Steve’s house, so it’s mostly just him and Steve. Eddie doesn’t mind, he’s halfway in love with him and gets closer to falling head over heels every day. He loves being here with Steve but sometimes… Steve reminds him of Wayne.

Every morning, Steve watches the news. Eddie teased him about it, saying he has the soul of a middle aged Dad. It’s stupid, but watching Steve mosey around the living room before work, drinking coffee and getting absorbed in the TV when an interesting story comes on, it makes Eddie miss Wayne, who does the exact same thing.

It’s so stupid how it’s simple things that make Eddie feel 2 seconds away from breaking. Not having to be quiet during the day because Wayne’s not there sleeping after his night shift. Looking at the wall and not seeing Wayne’s endless collection of hats and mugs. Not hearing the squeak of the old couch when Wayne sits down to take his boots off.

It’s so stupid but it all makes Eddie’s chest feel so tight and empty he can hardly breathe.

But he’s grateful to Steve for letting him be here, so he doesn’t dare complain about what’s missing when Steve’s already given him so much.

One morning, Eddie’s sitting on the counter and Steve gives him his coffee. It’s just how Eddie likes it, sweet and creamy, but he can’t drink it.

Steve used a different mug than usual, and Eddie can’t stop staring at it, orange and round. Wayne has one like it. It reminds Eddie of the Garfield mug that hangs by the door in their trailer. That tight feeling gnaws at his chest, and he sits there staring at it so long his coffee goes cold.

“Everything okay, Eds? Did I not put enough sugar or something? Do you need a straw again today?”

Steve’s voice startles him out of his thoughts, he flinches and the mug slips out of his hand, falling to the kitchen tile, shattered.

Eddie curses while Steve rushes to clean it up, telling him to stay put when he tries to get down and help.

That, too, reminds Eddie of Wayne.

He can’t help it then, he just laughs. It feels tight in his throat, sounds almost painful, but he laughs so hard he feels tears prickling the corner of his eyes.

Steve just stares at him, leaving the broken mug in his concern for Eddie, asking carefully, “Hey, what’s so funny? You alright?”

Eddie shakes his head, laughs dying down. “You know those mugs on the wall at my trailer?”

Steve looks confused, nodding.

“They’re Wayne’s, he collects them. I used to tell him it was lame and he should invest in something cool like hanging guitars or records,” Eddie goes on, grinning, reminiscing, “He’d always just laugh and tell me that cliche line, one man’s trash is another man’s treasure, boy. I never understood you buying all them amps either, paying money to make noise.”

Steve smiles but he’s still watching Eddie carefully.

“Those damn mugs,” Eddie laughs again, rubbing his eyes, “There’s a Garfield one that leaks from how many times I knocked it over running out the door trying not to be late to school, and Wayne had to superglue it back together. He’d never even get mad about it, just snap at me to be careful because he didn’t want me getting hurt.”

Eddie laughs even harder, his chest twisting and writhing but it feels good, like he’s finally letting himself breathe, gasping for air. He doesn’t know when his laughs turn into sobs, but he assumes it’s around the time when Steve steps forward and gently wraps him in a hug.

They’ve never hugged before. Eddie doesn’t know how he could miss something he’s never had but that’s what hugging Steve feels like. He’s missing his Uncle, he’s missing a piece of himself but he feels close to complete somehow right there in Steve’s arms. He holds on tight, smearing tears into Steve’s t-shirt.

“I miss him, Steve,” he sniffs, bottom lip wobbling, “I miss those damn mugs.”

“I know,” Steve rubs his back, soothing, “I promise you'll see him again, Eds. And those damn mugs.”

Eddie laughs wetly and squeezes him tighter.

Within the next week, Steve keeps his promise.

Eddie almost drops to his knees when he sees it, has to rub his eyes to make sure he’s not imagining it, but it’s there.

Right there on the wall in the Harrington living room, there’s three mugs hanging up. Not just any mugs, Eddie recognizes all three. A green one that used to hang next to Wayne’s coat, an Indiana State one that went above the couch, and the cracked up Garfield one that leaks next to the trailer door.

“Steve, what—”

“I tried to get more, but Wayne was already suspicious by my third visit this week,” Steve shrugs innocently, “It’s just like home, right?”

Eddie’s torn between bursting into tears or laughter at the thought of Steve sneaking out of his trailer with coffee mugs in his pocket one by one, “You stole my Uncles mugs, Harrington?”

“I figured he’ll forgive me when I bring his nephew back safe and sound soon,” Steve smiles, charming as ever, “And if he presses charges, well, it’ll be worth it just seeing the look on your face right now.”

Eddie's chest spreads with warmth, his heart so full it could almost burst.

“Get over here, you little thief.”

Steve's grinning as he strolls right over to Eddie and wraps his arms around him. They've hugged a lot since that first time, but they've never kissed before, not even in Eddie's wildest dreams has he kissed Steve Harrington, but it's happening.

Eddie can't describe it, feeling Steve's lips on his, safe in his arms, warm in his embrace, but it feels a little bit like home.

[stuffyflowers]

Uhhh

Text + Inspo:

[spookberry]

Does it bother anyone else how the only people who canonically have siblings are Danny(Jazz), Maddie(Alicia), and Dora(Aragon) like... I get not everyone is like one out of ten siblings like I am and also we often don't see enough of the reoccurring characters to even be able to know what their familys like anyways but still 2/3rds of all sibling duos in DP are fentons

[monpetitchattriste]

Stardew Valley Adrien

He moves to a small town to escape his life. And he is gifted a small plot of land his mom left him. And while he is there he meets the locals and there is this cute girl Marinette who is trying to stop this big corporation from taking over. So he decides to help her out.

One day this random feral cat shows up on his door steps walks into his how and steals his cheese! Adrien was like okay that's fine and now he has this magical cat who just does the most unhinged shit ever and eats all the cheese.

All of the town people are super nice and helpful even though sometimes they have weird request.

But all in all he loves it and is so glad he moved there

[mylittleredgirl]

i realized this definition is missing from my mental glossary, and instead of just asking what it means, i'm making a poll!

none of this has to be an x-reader situation if you engage with your favorite characters in a different way! if you know what it means but don't have one of your own you can still answer with your definition, but i also included an i don't know option at the bottom.

if you have more than one & it's different for different characters i'd love to hear about it and get more confused!!

[vellichorom]

that one " Draw Your Comfort Characters " meme i'm sure you've seen everywhere but i had to reach deep into my psyche for it

they all wanted mcdonalds but they were not allowed any,

( using the cleaned up template graciously provided by @ UsagiEroArt on twt! )

[gxtzeizm]

the fact that me, as a fan of both lando and oscar without any bias (maybe a bit on lando but not that much), is going to witness both "oscar fans, lando antis" and "lando fans, oscar antis" posts all in my one dash 🥲🥲

also the fact that atp i couldn't even bother enough with this same situation on both lewis and george. now it happens on lando and oscar as well which got me like....

[msmk11]

Five More Minutes

Finnick Odair x fem!reader

WC: 1.5k

CW: Fluff, angst, the games, illusions to death

Summary: Five more minutes. A phrase you say often but only now really mean.

Day 16 of mk’s mad dash

The cold waves crash against your legs as you run through the water away from Finnick. Two person tag is pointless, really, but at the young age of eight, practicality is not an important thing on your mind. You’re still at the age where you’re similar in height and strength to the blonde, so you pretty easily outrun his attempts at tagging you.

“Wah, wah, you can’t catch me Finny!” You tease, sticking your tongue out.

“I told you not to call me that!” he yells, a pout growing on his face.

By the way his brows furrow in concentration, you can tell that your best friend is more determined than ever to catch you.

You run back up onto the shore, your feet sinking into the wet sand beneath you.

“Hey guys!” A voice shouts distantly.

You stop running and look up to see Finnick’s mother at the back door.

“It’s time to come inside my loves, dinner is ready!”

Just when you’re about to respond, a cold wet hand presses your arm.

“Tag, you’re it!”

Finnick stands beside you, golden hair windblown and wearing a big smirk.

“Not fair!” You shout back, betrayal written all over your face, “the game was obviously paused.”

“Never said so,” Finnick answers, arms crossed bossily.

“I’m gonna get you!”

You look back at Finnick’s mom, “five more minutes!”

*****

“Five more minutes.”

You look up at Mrs. Odair standing next to you, arms crossed and an anxious expression on her face that she absolutely cannot hide from you.

“Five more minutes,” you agree, reaching out and squeezing her arm gently.

Five more minutes. Five more minutes until Finnick would finally arrive home from the Capitol.

Finnick. Your Finny. The Capitol’s newest Victor. The youngest too, winning at the young age of only fourteen.

After being gone for weeks, you’d finally get to see him again. You’d finally be able to rest easy, knowing that he’s alive, safe, and within walking distance.

You hear it before you see it- the horn of the large, silver train warning everyone to back away from the railway. As it glides smoothly into the station, your stomach erupts in anxious butterflies, equal parts eager and nervous to see Finnick after all this time.

The train door slides open and the first person to step out is Finnick’s mentor, Mags. But then, there he comes, your best friend.

It seems the entirety of District Four is crammed into the small train station awaiting Finnick’s return, so the whole platform erupts into cheers at the sight of him exiting the train.

Finnick, ever the charmer, immediately puts on his best smile, waving to the crowd. Though you know a lot of it is an act, you can tell a part of him is genuinely happy to be home surrounded by his neighbors and friends.

His smile turns fully genuine, however, when he sees his parents and you waiting for him near the front of the platform. Finnick runs straight into his mother’s arms. Though he already towers over her, he looks so small at this moment, relieved to be back with his mama after all the trauma he had faced. When he pulls away, he gives his dad a hug too and then turns to you. If possible, his smile grows even wider and he opens his arms to you. You run straight into his arms at full force and he catches you, barely even stumbling under your weight.

You bury your face in his neck, “Welcome back, Finny.”

*****

You’re already ready to kill someone and the games haven’t even started yet. Interviews, in front of millions of people, are starting soon, and you’ve never felt more uncomfortable. You aren’t against dressing nice, but as a sixteen year old girl from the districts, you’re certainly against dressing uncomfortably and so lavishly. The big, poofy, blue gown you’re wearing is supposed to resemble the ocean, but you’re sure your stylist has gotten it all wrong. One is pleasant and good and makes you happy, the other is a stupid-ass dress with itchy fabric.

Luckily, your team has at least given you a few minutes alone before your interviews to collect yourself.

There’s a soft knock on the door and before you can even respond, it’s opening and closing quickly. Finnick is upon you in a second, arms wrapped around your waist and his chest flush against yours.

“Finnick,” you sigh, “what’re you doing here? I thought mentors weren’t allowed to be back here before the interviews?”

He pulls away a little and gives you a wink, “perks of being the Capitol’s Darling.”

You roll your eyes and scoff at him, but secretly you’re grateful for his status in the Capitol. Without his unwavering support at your side every second of your games journey so far, you certainly would’ve cracked. You’re not sure how you’re gonna fare in the arena.

Finnick looks you up and down, “you look….”

“Like an idiot?”

“No,” the blonde says, suddenly very serious, “You look beautiful, really. Though I suppose you always are.”

“Finn-“

You’re interrupted by the door opening. A backstage assistant peeks their head in the room, “you’re on in ten.”

When the door shuts, Finnick squeezes your waist gently, “okay, we should probably go.”

You stop him before he can pull away, “wait! Five more minutes, please.”

Finnick nods and pulls you impossibly tighter, resting his forehead against yours. As you stare into his seafoam colored eyes, a wave of calm overcomes you.

You’re so close that your breaths intermingle, and your stomach does a flip.

“Finnick-“

But you don’t need to say anything else, because his lips are already on yours.

*****

Even though Finnick never has to work another day in his life if he doesn’t want to, he’s still up and off to the docks every day before the sun even rises. It’s a habit of his you used to admire, maybe selfishly so, because he always showed up on your doorstep after a morning on the water with some sort of gift or breakfast in hand. But now, now that you and Finnick live together, you hate it. Even though you’re happy he’s doing something he enjoys, you, again, selfishly, want to keep him in bed a little longer.

When you feel him start to stir next to you, you instantly whine into his bare chest.

“Where are you going?”

Finnick’s strong arms squeeze you tightly, “gotta get up and head to the docks, sweetheart, you know this.”

“No,” you moan tiredly, “stay here.”

Your boyfriend places a soft kiss to the crown of your head and mumbles into your hair, “you know I can’t. Gotta work.”

You open your heavy eyes and look up at him, chin still resting on his muscled chest, “but you don’t have to. You could stay here and lay with me.”

Finnick sighs and you know he feels bad, but you also know you won’t change his mind. You find his stubbornness endearing, even if it works against you sometimes.

“Sweetheart, I’ll be back before you know it, okay?”

You huff dejectedly, “fine. But will you at least lay with me for five more minutes?”

The blonde pushes a strand of hair out of your face, “okay, pretty girl, five more minutes.”

The squeal of delight that escapes you makes your boyfriend chuckle, and you wrap yourself around him like a baby koala bear.

You look up at his pretty smile and long, soft eyelashes and place a soft kiss to his jaw, “Thank you, my love.”

*****

Much like all the mornings before, you cling to your husband tightly as you two lay in bed, preparing to face the day ahead.

But nothing about this morning is typical.

Instead of contentment you feel fear, instead of rested you feel restless, and instead of Finnick being eager to start his day, he clings to you just as tightly, head buried in your chest listening to the beating of your heart.

You mindlessly run your fingers through your lover’s curls, the only thing keeping you from completely breaking down.

Today is the day of the quarter quell. A day you never thought would come- when you have to enter the arena again. Even worse- when Finnick has to enter the arena again.

You’re still in shock over it all, and you can’t help the bitterness you feel towards the “girl on fire” for putting you and Finnick in this position again. Still, you try to keep your husband’s words in mind- it’s all for the revolution.

Only time will tell if you two would make it out alive.

Finnick’s rustling startles you from your daze and you look down at him, watching as he glances towards the clock on the nightstand.

“We probably should-“

“No.”

You pull Finnick towards your face, “just five more minutes, okay?”

Five more minutes. A phrase you’ve said countless times, but only now really mean in the face of death.

Five more minutes to hold your husband. To kiss him. To love him in the security of your bed. To pretend that the world doesn’t wait outside your door.

*****

Oh what you’d do for five more minutes.

[chuluoyi]

i got him too but at what cost :’)

[nymphrod]

I fucked it up quite a bit, accidentally merged the layers and by the time I realized, twas too late 😞

I didn't realize how similar this was to @hannahmanderr 's drawing until I went to go find their @ so I could give them credit for the idea. I'm sobbing.

Anyway, along with this drawing, I've also started writing a Swagger Bishie fanfic - link in bio.

[marclef]

Could I have a Fake Peppino hug please...? Things aren't going great right now, and I just want some comfort...

i know i've got other asks to get to, but i can't leave this one sitting here...

i'm sorry you're not feeling well friend. i hope things will get better, and Fakey would like you to feel better too.