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#Especially for a fic like this
fox-guardian · 1 year
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man this sucks (<- likes a niche character that hardly has any fan content)
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somnimagus · 10 months
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My page for @sheikahzine; about Impaz's duty to her village, empty of people and full of memories.
[id in alt text]
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thirstywaffles · 11 months
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Got bored and doodled older Pevensies
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iifishizzleii · 6 months
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“you’re just so small :(“ “he doesn’t want to hurt ur tiny body” “his fist is bigger than your womb” “his hand is the size of your entire stomach” “:( small baby no hurt by big man soldier”-
eeughhhaa🤨
brotha eeughhhaa🤢🤢🤢👹👹🤕🤒🤒🤮🤧
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doctorsiren · 2 months
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the doodles I did while flying back home today
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seiwas · 4 months
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you wear katsuki’s clothes to bed.
among all your cotton and silk pajamas, you prefer the thinning fabric of his faded tees. there are holes in some of them, just a few more seams away from their undoing as they fit far too large on you—but that’s why you love them.
they’re comfy and worn; lived in with love from the man that you love. when katsuki is gone for days or weeks at a time, you find his warmth intertwined within the threads of his t-shirts. when the fabric presses against your back, the bed doesn’t feel nearly as empty as it is.
(though it can never replace him. nothing can, you fear.)
“hoggin’ all my shirts,” he tuts, but you know it means nothing. the roll of white fabric is neatly folded unto itself, its crisp corners unfurling once handed over.
you giggle, shaking off its folds and fitting the hem right over your head. from the corner of your eye, you see katsuki’s gaze, watching you wrangle the fabric over you as the towel wrapped around your body slowly drops to the floor.
he turns away then, a little too quickly, a little too abruptly. if you look at him now, you’re sure you’ll find flushed cheeks and crimson eyes burning in shame for wanting you so inopportunely.
“guess you’ll just have to take me with it then.”
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choccy-milky · 17 days
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sometimes you gotta lure your overly-studious ravenclaw gf into spending time with you 🥰 📚 ( from 'Every Teardrop is a Waterfall' by Kat_12739 on ao3, GO READ IT!!! the first story is about seb falling sick and still pushing himself/not admitting he's sick until he ends up in the hospital, the second story is about the birth of seb and clora's daughter and seb's reaction to clora almost dying in childbirth, and the third is about dealing with a fussy newborn lewis😭🥹THEY'RE SO GOOD AND SWEET AND SOMEWHAT SAD (not to mention beautifully written) so go check it out!!💖💖 )
#READ SO I CAN YAP TO SOMEONE ABOUT THEM🙏😩💘#the seb sickfic made me realize how much i needed barely functioning and sick seb (but him still trying to be tough)#theres also a part that cracked me up bc at one point seb is so sick he cant even see straight but he just thinks to himself:#eh its fine.... ill just ask ominis how HE functions without vision later🤷 LMFAO#so stubborn...JUST LET CLORA TAKE CARE OF YOU MFER🤺🤺🤺#defs gonna be drawing more from it especially sick seb LMAO but also seb having a tea party with celeste🥹🥹#hogwarts legacy#sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow x oc#sebastian sallow x mc#sebastian x mc#hogwarts legacy fanfiction#sebastian sallow fanfiction#hphl#choccyart#also i was never planning on writing anything about clora giving birth or abt the kids so to be able to read it WAS AMAZING#THERES A PART WHERE SEB IS HOLDING CELESTE AND CRYING AT CLORAS BEDSIDE THAT I NEED TO DRAW😭😭#LIKE SRSLY seb being conflicted and not even wanting to HOLD celeste bc he doesnt know if clora is alive or not... IT WAS SO SAD BUT GOOD#i honestly dont know what seb would do if clora died in childbirth tbh.......i could honestly see him resenting celeste#esp since she looks so much like clora😭😭#LETS JUST NOT THINK ABOUT IT!😃👍#(still thinking about it)#like this line in the fic: “Sebastian hesitated; if this was Clora’s last gift to him he wasn’t sure he wanted it.”#😭😭😭ITS SO GOOD UGHHHHH😭 TY AGAIN FOR WRITING THESE💖IM SO TOUCHEDDD💖💖
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letters-to-rosie · 1 year
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I see way too many fics where Caitlyn is cool. Arcane Caitlyn has a conspiracy board on her floor, no friends we see of her age despite being one of the richest people in Piltover, and sucks at making conversation. This is loser erasure and I will not stand for it. In this essay I will—
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atlabeth · 9 months
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bleedin' me dry | luke castellan
runaway with luke ending here!!
summary: luke has a proposal. it doesn't go over well.
a/n: so um. obviously im a huge percy jackson stan ive got annabeth in my name and ive literally wanted to be her since i read the books in second grade and by virtue of being an annabeth stan i hate luke but i also think he is so interesting and so good for angst and i also love the pjo resurgence we’ve got going on here from the show!! so here you go. here's some angst
title from vampire by olivia rodrigo
wc: 2.8k
warning(s): fem!child of demeter reader. luke is his own warning lmao. pushy and manipulative behavior, not the healthiest relationship! and no happy ending
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“You know I love the forest,” you mused, “but you have to have a reason for bringing me out here.”
He gave you a wry smile as he squeezed your hand. “Do I have to have a reason? You said you love it—that’s gotta be reason enough.”
“I love it, but there are monsters here.” You twisted your free hand and flowers sprouted up a few feet away. “It does give me a chance to show off, though.”
You were in your cabin helping Katie clean up everything—it was the last day of summer and most of the Demeter kids had already left—when Luke knocked on the door and asked you to accompany him on “a little adventure”. Despite the teasing of your siblings, you bashfully accepted.
It wasn’t the smartest thing, admittedly, to find yourself in the forest with your boyfriend with a couple hours ‘til curfew when you still weren’t even sure if you were leaving or not, but you had your dagger. Luke didn’t have his sword, but you had been practicing.
It wasn’t like it really mattered, anyways—he probably just wanted to make out with you. It was far from the first time, and for all he knew you were leaving for the school year in a few hours.
He chuckled but didn’t say anything. You looked up at him, a slight frown creasing your brows, and nudged him with your shoulder.
“Is everything okay, Luke?” you asked. “You’ve been… oddly quiet.”
Again, it took him a moment to respond before he just shrugged. “I’ve been thinking, I guess.”
“About what?”
“Life,” he said. “Our lives.”
“Very philosophical for the hour,” you said dryly. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah,” Luke nodded, “yeah, I’m fine. I just wanted to ask you something.”
“Ask away.”
“Have you ever thought about leaving?”
“I’m still deciding whether I want to go back home for school or not, but—”
“Not after the summer,” Luke interrupted. “Leaving camp. For good.”
You frowned, a chill running down your spine. “Of course not. Camp Halfblood saved my life, Luke. I could never leave.”
“Says who?” Luke stopped and your intertwined hands pulled you back, stopping you as well.
“Says all the monsters that tried to kill me last time I went home,” you said slowly. “Don’t tell me you forgot the dracaena that nearly got me on that field trip.”
“‘Course I didn’t forget,” he said, inclining his head. “I just think you’re good enough now to make it without this place.”
“Luke,” you said with a strained laugh, “you— you can’t be serious.”
He shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because if we leave, we’ll die,” you said slowly. “I barely made it on my own out there.”
“You’re more powerful now. And you won’t be on your own,” he said, tugging you closer. Despite it all, warmth bloomed in your chest. “I can protect you.”
“Luke…” You trailed off as he cupped your cheek with his other hand, bringing your gaze back to his.
“What’s the point of staying here?” Luke murmured, an unmistakable softness in his eyes. “Just so we can sit around at summer camp for the rest of our lives? I mean, it’s not like that’s gonna be much longer, the way Chiron tells it.”
“I ha— we have friends here,” you said, huffing another laugh as you took a step back from him. It was easier to think when he wasn’t touching you, when you were still able to sever the string connecting the two of you. “We have a life here. A safe life, Luke, where we don’t have to look over our shoulders constantly.”
“Not me.” Luke shook his head as he moved a step forward in tandem, and he took your hand again, his grip tighter this time. “You’re the only thing I’ve got keeping me here.”
“Please,” you said in disbelief. “You’ve got a whole cabin of siblings that adore you. You’re the best swordfighter here. I’m pretty sure even Mr. D has a soft spot for you.”
“Please,” he mocked, “you can’t seriously believe that.”
You shrugged. “All I know is that when you finally asked me out, I gained a whole lot of enemies.”
“Like that means anything,” Luke said.
“The kids love you too!” you exclaimed. “Their eyes light up with stars whenever you help them with their sparring. You’re a beacon of light to this place— where is all of this coming from?”
“I’m tired,” Luke said roughly. “Tired of the gods ignoring us when all they’ve caused is pain.”
You frowned, but he continued on.
“You’re telling me you haven’t noticed it?” he asked. “When’s the last time you ever saw my dad give me any kind of attention besides some fun-colored smoke? He ruined my mother’s life— he ruined my life! And our cabin is damn near overflowing with unclaimed kids. Where are their parents?
“Luke—”
He shook his head as he forged on. “And you can’t say that Demeter is any good either. I bet she makes your cereal tastes real good in the morning, but she’s abandoned you for your whole life.”
“Luke, where is this coming from?” you asked, your frown deepening further and further as you let go of his hand and took a step back. “You— you know I’m not a fan of them, but you can’t just go around saying things like this. The last thing I need is for my mother to— to smite me, or strangle me with vines or something because I’m not appreciating her enough.”
Luke huffed a laugh. “That would be the most attention she’s paid to you since she claimed you.”
“She’s a goddess,” you said. “She’s got more important things to do than send me emails asking how my day is going.”
“Really?” Luke asked, his eyebrows rising.
“Yes, really,” you enunciated. “I expect it. I consider myself lucky she claimed me at all.”
“Do you even hear yourself?” he marveled as he said your name. “Your mother has never been there for you, and you think you’re lucky?”
“Luke—” you started, but you couldn’t even finish as he continued on.
“Demeter wasn’t there for the year you spent feeling like the scum of the Earth because you hadn’t been claimed yet. Demeter wasn’t there for the childhood she gifted to you then abandoned you for.” He pushed forward still. “Demeter wasn’t there for all those sleepless nights you spent in the Hermes cabin wondering if you were ever going to know who got you into this mess.”
“Luke, stop,” you finally managed to get out, moving back in turn.
“You know who was?” He continued to forge on, capturing your wrist when you tried to take another step back, eliciting a shaky exhale as you flinched. “Me.”
You ripped your arm away from him, fire in your eyes and blazing in your blood. “Don’t ever touch me like that again.”
“I’ve been here for you since the moment you stepped foot into Cabin Eleven!” Luke’s voice rose, and you’d never been more aware of the dagger hanging off your belt. “Through every tear, every tirade, every godsdamned rant about the gods—”
You stumbled back, and your heart stuttered in your chest as your back hit a tree. Your jaw was clenched, attempting to stop your tremors trying to wrack your body.
“And you’re telling me,” his voice suddenly lowered until it was scarily soft, little more than a whisper as he leaned over you, noses nearly touching, “that you would still choose them over me?”
“If you do not get away from me right now,” you said, quiet and even, “what we have, and anything we could have, will be over.”
Luke didn’t move. “Answer me.”
For a moment, it was just that—you and Luke staring at each other. His chest rising and falling just so from the effort of yelling, his beautiful eyes devoid of any previous softness. You thought your teeth might crack with the pressure in your jaw.
“No,” you said. “I wouldn’t choose them over you.”
And for an even shorter moment, his eyes do soften.
“But I won’t leave my family,” you whispered. “Not for whatever cause you think you’re fighting for.”
And just like that, the armor went up again.
“So that’s the way this ends,” Luke said evenly, and when he moved a few steps back, you felt like you could finally breathe again.
“You know who I am,” you argued, though you couldn’t make yourself move. “My siblings are my family— my friends are my family. I’d never leave them.”
“Oh, I should have expected it,” he said offhandedly. His laughter was a cruel thing. “I always knew you were a coward.”
“Don’t you dare turn this on me,” you spat. “Why do you even want to leave in the first place?”
“Because I’m sick and tired of all the bullshit that goes on here!” Luke yelled. “We’ve been here for years, and what the hell do we have to show for it? A couple scars? A lot of near death experiences? Some deadbeat parents that ruined our damned lives?”
“I have a family that I never could’ve dreamed of!” you exclaimed. “I have sisters and brothers that love me, friends that understand me, and—”
Your voice broke for a moment and you swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing the tears back. Some of the fire burning through your veins had been extinguished as you continued.
“And I thought I had a boyfriend that was there for me.”
It was there again—his eyes softening ever so slightly when he looked at you. But then he clenched his jaw. “And I thought I had a girlfriend that was there for me.”
“I won’t leave,” you enunciated. “I’m not going to help you with whatever crusade you think you’re meant to lead against the gods!”
“You don’t understand,” he insisted.
“You don’t understand!” you exclaimed. “You’re ready to leave all of this behind, and for what?”
“I don’t want to leave it all behind,” he said. “I want you by my side. We could be something truly great together— can’t you see?”
Luke took your hand again and pulled you away from the tree, gesturing with his hand around you. “You can control all of this. The whole world is your domain—we’d be untouchable.”
“Luke, you sound crazy,” you said roughly. “Where is all of this coming from, seriously?”
“I just know that we can live a better life,” he said. “Together, without the gods.”
“Witho—” You couldn’t even manage to finish the word, shaking your head at the pure absurdity of it. You hardly recognized your boyfriend purely because of the insanity he was spouting. “Luke, we don’t need to leave! We don’t need to stand against the gods, or— or whatever this is!”
This time, you took his hand as you tried to smile. “We can make this work, Luke, and we can make it work here,” you begged. “I promise.”
“Things need to change,” he said, voice steely, pulling his hand away. “And they’re clearly not going to change here.”
“Yes, they can,” you insisted, your hands clenching into fists at your side. “I want things to change too, believe me! But going off on your own isn’t going to do anything for it. We can start it here—together.”
His eyes were colder than ever as he looked down on you, and you truly didn’t recognize him. The glint in his eye and edges you would cut yourself on and the insanity he was spouting for no damn reason. You didn’t know what in Hades’ name had gotten into him.
“All we do is sit around and wait for that hag in the attic to spout prophecies, and then Chiron sends some kids off to die, and then we sit around and wait to do it again,” Luke said. “The gods keep making kids and the kids keep dying because they leave them in the world alone— we’re practically grandparents here because we’re lucky to make it past sixteen! The gods don’t do a damn thing about it, and neither does Chiron.”
He shook his head as he stared right into your eyes. “You’re not as smart as I thought if you think you can change anything here.”
“So— so what?” you asked brazenly. “You’re just gonna leave?”
Luke shrugged. “I was always gonna leave. It just depended whether you were with me or not.”
He turned around and started walking, and for a moment you were fully dumbstruck, unable to move. Then something snapped inside of you, and you moved your hands straight up through the air. Vines sprouted from the ground and tangled around Luke’s legs, stopping him and nearly causing him to fall.
“You don’t just get to walk away from me after spouting this bullshit,” you fumed as you ran to catch up with him. “What in Demeter’s name has gotten into you, Luke? Gods— this isn’t you!”
“See?” Luke smiled, ignoring your question. “You are powerful.”
“Answer me,” you seethed.
He shrugged, that small smile still on his lips. “It’s always been me. Maybe you’ve just been too stupid to realize.”
“Where are you going to go?” you asked, ignoring his jab. “Not home, clearly.”
It was a deep cut, something you never would have said under normal circumstances, but his expression didn’t change.
“I’ve got plans,” he said, ignoring your jab, and he huffed a laugh. “And I guess they don’t involve you anymore.”
All you could do was stand there, stunned as you stared at him. It was cliche, but it really wasn’t him, because you loved Luke and he loved you.
He’d always been a bit spitfire, always a little sharp around the edges, but you loved that about him—and he softened those edges for you. He was strong-willed and caring and passionate about everything, and you didn’t want to lose him. Not like this.
You knew what he’d been through. You knew what happened to his mother, what happened to Thalia, everyone he’d lost and every reason for every scar. But you never thought—
Gods. You never thought he’d actually do… this.
“Let me go, will ya?” Luke asked, tilting his head. “Or else what we have will be over— or whatever it was you said back there.”
The vines receded against your will, like his words just connected to your subconscious. You stayed rooted in place as he continued walking away.
But then he stopped. Turned around, looked right at you.
And for a moment you were fourteen again, feeling alone and forgotten going into your third month in the Hermes cabin. Grumbling your way through sword practice because the excited camp counselor who just happened to be your age refused to let you sulk for another day.
It was days after your fifteenth birthday, and the golden sickle with sheaths of wheat had finally appeared over your head at lunch. Luke had lunged at you, wrapping you in the tightest hug possible, and looked at you with all the stars in your eyes as he congratulated you. He helped you move your meager belongings into the Demeter cabin the very next day.
It was the first time you decided to go home since arriving at camp, and Luke was sidled outside your door, making wry comments every so often as he kept you company while you packed.
It was him kissing you right before you went over the hill because he said he couldn’t keep his feelings in any longer. It was you kissing him right back wondering why he waited so damn long.
It was three years of the best thing you’d ever experienced, of the most steadfast companion you could’ve had by your side—three years of Luke Castellan’s love.
Then you blinked, and you were back in the woods. Luke’s expression had softened, but the brimming tears in your eyes blurred your vision.
“I really did love you, y’know,” Luke finally murmured. “But you should know that love isn’t ever enough.”
He was out of your view before you could even muster the strength to move again, and then you were running through the forest faster than ever before.
But when you reached Cabin Eleven, there was no sign of him. And when you checked the pavilion and the forge and the amphitheater and the training arena and every other godsdamned place, you were just as disappointed.
But by the time you got to Chiron and found out the chaos that had spouted in his wake, that he had wanted you to be a part of, it was much, much too late.
Percy Jackson was fighting for his life. Camp had been left in complete disarray. Luke was working for Kronos.
And the man you loved was truly gone.
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justaz · 3 months
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when merlin asks arthur for things, the king is usually inclined to give him what he wants but it is not always guaranteed such as when his emotions cloud his judgement. but merlin’s surefire way of getting arthur to give in? he steps into his space, lays a gentle hand on his arm, and says “arthur, please” and he folds like a house of cards.
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stevebabey · 1 year
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@scooprtroopr ur tags on this post inspired a lil something and well, here you go friend <3 / also omg this fits for @steddie-week’s prompt pining! tehe / you can also read it over on ao3 :)
Steve gets that this is how karma works.
You do something bad, you don’t have the best intentions, you trample on one or two people’s feelings selfishly, yadda yadda. Then what do you know? Next month, it’s happening to you. What goes around comes around, right?
That’s how karma works. Steve gets that.
And yet, the sting in the morning when another hookup has crept out in the night feels so goddamn unshakeable. It slices through his ego, hitting every feeling on the way, and cuts right down the bone, and it hurts.
But it’s karma though, Steve knows that. He’s left a girl more than once or twice, and snuck back out the window he had crept into. Stumbled back to his car in the early morning hours.
(Steve pointedly ignores the old part of him that was- is so hesitant to stay — after the iciness of his first ever hookup, who had wrinkled her nose at the thought of him staying the night.
Who had patted him on the cheek in a near condescending way, a girl the year above him, and said, “Don’t overstay your welcome, yeah?”)
So when the other side of the bed is empty when he wakes, he knows he’s lost another game of ‘who can sneak out on who?’
Which Steve hates — it’s why he stopped going over to his dates house and instead started bringing them back to his. Hoping they might read that his invitation to stay the night extended right out til breakfast. Hell, til lunch if they wanted.
No one has come close to overstaying their welcome in the Harrington house.
Empty sheets rip a new ache in Steve’s chest and he groans, a pitiful noise because— of course, he hasn’t stayed.
Karma has the biggest bone to pick with Steve Harrington and he was really hoping it would be done after all these years. Evidently not.
But… Steve can’t help how much more this one hurts because this one was Eddie.
Steve tries to not let regret coil in his gut. Rolling over he buries his face into his pillow, eyes scrunched shut as he tries to think it over logically. Rationally. Ignores the burning in his throat.
Maybe he’s a fool for thinking Eddie would be different from the past.
But the buildup — before there had been flirting, there had been friendship, proper company between the two of them where there were no expectations. That may very well be due to the fact both of them were dudes but… Steve was so sure. So much of him believed Eddie would still be here when he woke up.
Steve huffs a loud sigh into the pillow. Pretends his chest doesn’t hurt a little bit.
“It’s fine,” He murmurs to himself, voice thick with sleep. His fists clench into the sheets for a moment. “It’s fine.”
He drags himself up and out of bed. Tugs on some stray sweats hanging over the back of his desk chair and ducks into the bathroom. Staring in the mirror, hair tousled and eyes still sleepy, Steve eyes the shower through the reflection. He should, probably, but he might get stuck on a loop in there.
Where did he go wrong this time? Why didn’t he stay? Why didn’t any of them stay? Why did—
Steve splashes cold water on his face instead, rubbing probably a bit too forcefully at his eyes. He spies the faint pink shape of Eddie’s lips, a mark left on his neck. His fingers grace over it lightly, softly, like a lover would.
Memories hazed with lust remind him of how it had got there, Eddie’s body on his, Eddie’s hands in his hair, Eddie— without thinking, Steve scrubs at the skin harshly. He wishes it wasn’t there. Wishes there wasn’t any remnant of Eddie left behind.
Steve doesn’t need any mementos to remind him he’s been left behind again.
He needs food, needs to get on with his day, Steve decides. The bathroom door swings closed behind him and Steve tries his best to wrangle his thoughts as he wanders out to the top of the stairs.
A run. That’s what he needs to clear his head. A long run til his heart is pounding in his chest so hard it hurts, til his muscles start burning, breathes coming too fast and his head is finally fucking quiet. Yep, that’s precisely what he needs to shake the sting of last night.
Steve’s so enwrapped in his head, thoughts swirling, that he get manages to get halfway down the hall to the kitchen before he hears the radio. It’s not loud, just enough to carry out the kitchen. Strange. He doesn’t remember leaving it on last night.
His feet carry him into the kitchen, another yawn creeping up and he rubs at his eyes, blinking a bit blearily and— and stops in his tracks. There’s someone at the stove.
Eddie’s at the stove.
Standing in the morning sunlight, hair lighter than ever, puckered scars along his arms standing out. He’s clearly ransacked Steve’s drawers, a pair of Steve’s plaid pj pants hanging low on his hips, his own softened band tee from yesterday still on. It’s had its sleeves hacked off, the fabric curling up into little rolls. Steve feels his stomach rise halfway up his throat, his hopes going with it. His heart does a strange stumbling pitter-patter.
He must make a noise because suddenly Eddie’s peaking over his shoulder and smiling at him.
“Hey,” Eddie says, shifting a bit to turn more toward him. Steve can see that he’s cooking, something delicious wafting up from the sizzling pan. His chest tightens, pure surprise wrapping around his sternum and gripping - so much, he can’t control the expression on his face.
“Hi,” Steve breathes. He’s still frozen where he is. He stayed. Steve blinks, taking in the scene before him; Eddie has clearly been puttering around, putting together some sort of breakfast. He fucking stayed and he’s cooking.
Eddie takes it the wrong way. He skittishly looks over the benches, covered in his mess, and tugs on the ends of his hair nervously. “I- it’s a mess, I know, I’m real sorry. I was gonna clean it, I just thought you might like…”
He trails off, unable to get a read on Steve’s expression. Steve doesn’t blame him but he can’t fucking stop his chest from feeling like it’s being pulled open, his heart from feeling like it’s soaring. He huffs an awed laugh, a smile curling at his lips.
Eddie deflates a bit in his relief, giving his own smile. He turns back to the stove quickly, giving the skillet a bit of a shake to keep it from burning and Steve draws closer, feet finally moving. Eddie watches him from the corner of his eye, barely biting back his grin as Steve gets closer. He hovers, feels the heat of Eddie’s back they’re so close.
He tries to feel brave — he stayed — and keeps his closeness, peering over Eddie’s shoulder at the skillet on the stove. It’s the Munson Special that Eddie’s cooked a few times for him over at the trailer; eggs, potatoes, shit tons of cheese, maybe a vegetable if he’s feeling healthy.
“Was gonna bring it to you in bed, but,” Eddie laughs, still tinged in nervousness. He sets down the spatula to tuck his hair behind both ears, glancing sideways at Steve as if trying to understand his silence.
He stayed and he cooked and he’s nervous. Steve thinks he might be holding his breath in disbelief, head dizzy with relief. With affection.
Very slowly, Steve’s hands move and, like he’s waiting for Eddie to flinch away, settles then very gently onto Eddie’s waist. His fingers curl into the soft fabric and Eddie makes a little chirp of happiness and leans back.
Leans into Steve a bit, like he wants his touch the morning after everything and Steve releases a shuddering breath, hooking his chin over Eddie’s shoulder. His hands grow a little more bold, sliding around to hug him around the middle.
Eddie’s cheeks have turned pink and his grin hasn’t faltered.
“Made me—” Steve starts, but his voice is a bit raspy. He clears his throat, avoids Eddie’s burning stare. “Y’made me breakfast?”
Eddie nods, his curls brushing against Steve’s cheek as he does. His tummy is warm beneath Steve’s hand and his hair smells good and Steve just wants to burrow into him- he tucks himself closer and is rewarded with a content noise from Eddie.
“That’s not weird, is it?” Eddie asks suddenly, picking up the spatula again and beginning to fiddle needlessly with the food. He flips it once, then again, so it’s on the same side as it was before.
He sounds a bit sheepish when he says, “I’m not sure- I haven’t ever really— I’m actually just gonna shut the hell up before I say anything stupid.”
Steve laughs quietly. His hands tighten around Eddie’s middle, head tilting so he can bury his grin into his shoulder— his heart is going haywire, going a million miles an hour, because karma is finally through with Steve Harrington and he gets to have this.
“S’not weird,” Steve mumbles. He thinks about pressing a kiss into Eddie’s shoulder.
“Ha, you said snot,” Eddie retorts with a childish snort and Steve can’t help it, he laughs at that too, muffled laughter into his t-shirt. Then he presses a kiss to Eddie’s shoulder, quick as lightning. Rests his chin back on it like nothing happened.
Eddie still stiffens just a bit- turns his head just a bit to glance at Steve and fuck, Steve can’t help the way his stomach swoops.
Because Eddie softens him unbearably with those nervous brown eyes, his pink lips twisted as he tries to hold back his grin. Steve’s beginning to understand that both of them seem equally surprised that this is happening.
Eddie’s free hand moves, pausing only briefly in a moment's hesitance, before it covers one of Steve’s on his tummy. It’s cold, much colder than Steve’s, and he covers it with one of his own instinctively.
Eddie’s trembling fingers give him a little squeeze. Steve thinks he must be able to feel how hard his heart is beating from where his chest is pressed against his back. It’s a lot to deal with; this perfect morning in the sun, the soft sound of the radio, the sweet boy in his arms.
They’re both grinning to themselves. Eddie focuses back on the food before him, doing all his work with one hand, and starts a little hum.
The radio switches to a love song.
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prettyboykatsuki · 2 years
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dunking on older women in fandom will always be insane because they’re like 99% of why we have anything readable on here
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lucky-fy · 4 months
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And another gift for the Laicion nation (aka, me and three other people... or maybe more? The latest one got a little bit of traction :)
I had this illustration commissioned for my werewolf AU Laicion fic (still a WIP, I expect to at least be done with the outlining and character studies this summer). A big thank you to @cecikiwi for this beautiful piece! I'm happy I made you discover Dungeon Meshi through this commission!
Some elements of the story already changed, and they will certainly still change as my understanding of the characters deepens and the plot develops.
Also, if you're coming across this and wondering "what fic?", let me redirect you to this post. I was very happy to see so much enthusiasm for it!
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unicornpopcorn14 · 6 months
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Has anyone written/drawn smth about Dazai getting unknowingly shipped overseas while sleeping in his shipping container yet??? Bc if not I'll write it it's just too funny to pass up-
Edit: *throws the fic atcha and runs*
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This has most definitely been said before, but we were robbed of the core four quarantining on-screen together at Buck’s place. ROBBED I say
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spielzeugkaiser · 1 year
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This was supposed to be part of a 'Ciri starts to realize that (while it's obvious that Jaskier is in love with Geralt) this is not as one-sided as she thought it was' comic (or like in short, when you find out your dad has two hands) but then I decided to colour that panel and made it separate 🙈 also a Ciri under the cut:
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She's going hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
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