#Hope-Filled words

[captain-astors]

The Crown Prince

[elysiae]

do you think operator & drifter treat their warframes wildly differently?

somewhat insufficient TLDR: i think the operator and drifter are emotionally attached but in vastly, strikingly different ways, and it manifested very, very differently too.

in operator's case, it isn't that they dont *care*, but they know how durable a warframe is. they know they can take one hell of a hit, and they'll be okay because that warframe takes the brunt of it (albeit with some phantom pain if the damage is bad enough). theyre less comfortable outside the confines of those large, bulky war machines because they know they're ultimately safe. those warframes can take hits. they cannot. the operator knows they were people, but they never met those people before the tragedy. besides... a lot of them really are just empty shells. they're hardly the people they once were, especially since they recreated those warframes from blueprints. don't get me wrong, they do remember the anguish of the originals - they were there, they lived it, and they still have empathy for them... but the operator knows the limits of every warframe like the back of their hand - they can maneuver however they want, they can take hits, they can run into armies and not be too afraid because they (as in the operator and the warframe this time) be fine. even if the warframe is damaged, they can fix the damage, so no harm done.

but drifter on the other hand? at first i think they never really realised the power they had. in their mind they were still them, just running, rolling on the occasion, it took them ages to maneuver those things *properly*, and probably only ever really learned with the operator's guidance. they would not let a warframe take a hit, not because they felt empathy for it (at least not a lot, last i checked you kind of need at least *some* to have effective transference?) but because they were so used to walking around vulnerable. yknow, not inside a killing machine. but what would've really solidified the difference was after they went to 1999. sure, hearing that these things used to be people is one thing, but at the end of the day, to drifter, they're still just machines. drifter never got to experience what the tenno did, they never had to deal with reaching into their freshly scarred minds to ease their anger, sorrow, fear, rein them in like the terrified animals they were turning into and hush their cries with understanding - they only knew the dead inside remnants... but it's an entirely other thing when you go to the past and see the people who were hurt. you meet them and you get to know them, become their best friends - maybe even date one of them - and it hit drifter like a fuckin' freight train. they have this entirely different view on warframes from that cold perspective they had at first. they weren't just war machines. those are people. every time they go into the head of those machines, they're looking through the eyes of *people.* people who had families and desires and hobbies, things they looked forward to, entire futures ahead of them that were snuffed out. people who were scared, people who didn't know what was happening. people who knew what was happening, who lived in fear knowing they weren't able to stop it... people who lived in fear of losing themselves. and i think it hit drifter a lot harder than they'd ever admit.

but thats not to say one of them is more attached than the other - both of them care deeply about their warframes. it's just that, they have different ways of looking at them. after all their experiences were so vastly different, it'd be impossible to look at them the same way.

(too lazy to type it out all over, but i have an example in the tags i think kinda helps pull it together more)

[luxaofhesperides]

Surprise husbands + "How are you real?" ; requested by @vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff!

They may not have planned to get married, or even wanted it all too much at the beginning, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t going to treat each other right. It was rough going, with both of them coming out of relationships and having secret identities, but time had softened the hurt feelings and allowed them to actually get to know each other.

And Danny, Duke has discovered, is a really good husband. 

Neither of them ever saw themselves as married at 20, but sometimes life throws horrible curses at you and the embodiment of balance and life and death swoops in to save your life. Via marriage. 

His life is weird, okay? Duke has made his peace with it.

The thing is, if they had met naturally and started off as friends, Duke could see himself falling for Danny and asking him to marry him in a far off future. Instead, they’re doing everything backwards: married, then going on dates to know each other, and finally feeling close enough to be friends. 

It helps that Danny does his best to communicate and that helps Duke find the words he needs as well. 

He’s sweet, too, so kind and doting and affectionate. Like a really lovable cat, honestly. Duke’s never been cuddled so much in his life and he’s loving every minute of it. 

He… might be falling in love with his husband. What a revelation.

“Duke?” 

He blinks, looking up from his half-empty plate, pulled out of his thoughts suddenly. Tim and Dick stare at him, concerned, and he realizes he’s missed the entire conversation because he was so preoccupied thinking about Danny. In his defense, it was their one year anniversary the night before and Danny had kissed him for the first time after a date night spent playing video games and talking shit about their respective rogues. 

Tim snaps a finger in front of his face, and Duke startles. He got distracted by his Danny Thoughts again.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“You okay? You’ve been out of it all day,” Dick says, clearly concerned.

“Oh, uh, yeah, it’s all good. Just… adjusting.”

“To what? Did something happen?”

Duke shrugs, scooping up another forkful of pasta to shove in his mouth. “Yeah, I… this is going to sound kind of stupid, but I think I’m in love with my husband.”

Tim, taking an ill-timed drink, chokes and spits out his Zesti. Dick springs back, trying to get out of the spray zone but doesn’t move far, shocked still by Duke’s words.

“Oh, yeah,” Duke realizes, “I didn’t tell you guys, did I?”

“You’re married?!” Tim shrieks as Dick clutches at his chest, eyes wide.

“You didn’t tell me?” Dick asks, offended.

“Seriously? That’s what you focus on?”

Duke smiles as they begin to bicker. They do it constantly, but this time it’s halfhearted, as if they’re just going through the motions of something familiar to distract themselves from the bomb he’s dropped on them.

In all fairness, Duke did forget that he didn’t tell them that he’s married to Danny. He’s also only mentioned Danny once or twice and heavily implied that Danny was just a classmate at GCU. And then forgot that he didn’t tell them, assuming that they’d figure it out eventually being Batman trained detectives, after all.

Well. 

Oops.

Clearly that is not the case. Duke hurries to finish his pasta before Tim and Dick finish their joint freak out and get their senses back together enough to interrogate him. He can’t escape it, but he refuses to have this discussion with an empty stomach. 

He just barely manages to scrape the last mouthful off the plate when his fork is being yanked out of his hands. Tim and Dick close in on him, standing to either side of him, trapping him in place, and look at him with knife-sharp smiles.

Here we go, Duke thinks tiredly, and resigns himself to clearing up this misunderstanding.

Somehow, he manages to explain the situation (I got cursed, he saved my life, we ended up married because magic is bullshit, he treats me so well) and Tim and Dick both agree to not hunt down Danny to show him the wrath of older brothers on one condition: Danny has to join them for a family dinner.

“Don’t worry, we’ll catch everyone up on your… situation,” Dick says, pulling on his jacket to head out. Tim is already on his phone, no doubt telling someone already. 

“Great,” Duke says, unenthused. “You’ll also be answering all the questions because I’m not in the mood. So if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to figure out a day that works for all of us, and then I’m going to kick my husband’s ass in Mario Cart.”

He walks out the door, grinning as he hears them scramble after him, then twists the ring on his finger (not a wedding ring, but a magic portal making gift) and steps into the portal. It closes quietly behind him, leaving him in Danny’s lair, a comfortable, spacious house with high ceilings and little bits of his personality scattered about. There are soft rugs with geometric patterns on them, star maps on the wall, stained glass windows that throw colors across the floor, and a giant couch and pillow pit in the living room.

Danny’s asleep in it, curled up and looking completely at peace. Duke toes off his shoes and carefully makes his way over, footsteps silent so he doesn’t wake him up, all plans of Mario Cart fading away instantly.

Danny doesn’t get much sleep, with the stress of school and an internship and ghost fights to worry about. It’s why his lair is so quiet and comfortable; it’s what he needs, and he doesn’t let anyone else in without invitation, rare as it is.

Duke is allowed to waltz right in thanks to the ring Danny gave him. It never stops making him feel overwhelmed by how much trust Danny puts in him to allow him unlimited access to what is his only true sanctuary, letting his lair be a place of safety and respite for Duke as well. 

He crawls into the pillow pit, There’s no way to do this without waking Danny up since he can’t fly, so he isn’t surprised to see Danny blink his eyes open, still looking soft and content. He smiles when he sees Duke, reaching a hand out to him that Duke gladly takes, bringing it up to his mouth to kiss his palm.

Sitting up, Danny tilts his head up in a silent request. Duke happily obliges, still reeling over the fact that he’s allowed to do this! He can kiss his husband whenever he wants! 

Yeah, he’s going to be riding that high for a while.

“Hey,” Danny murmurs, sleepy and quietly pleased to see him.

“Hi honey,” Duke returns fondly, “Have a nice nap?”

Danny nods, leaning into Duke and closing his eyes again. “Mhm. How long are you staying? I wanna cuddle.”

“I got nothing going on today. I’m all yours, baby.”

“C’mon,” Danny tries to tug him down. Duke goes slowly, covering Danny’s body with his own, but holds himself with one hand before he blankets his husband completely.

“Wait. There’s something we need to talk about.”

Immediately, the sleepy haze is fading from Danny’s eyes, leaving him alert. “What’s up? Is something wrong?”

“Not really? You know how we agreed to keep our marriage a secret until we weren’t in danger anymore and all those cultists and sorcerers were taken care of?”

“...Yes?”

“Well.” Duke sucks in a breath and offers a bashful smile. “Guess who forgot to tell people we were married after that whole mess was dealt with?”

The nervousness clears from Danny’s gaze as he stares up at Duke with incredulous amusement. “No. No way.”

“Yeah. Kinda dropped a bomb on them and they started freaking out over me being married. Anyways, they want you to come to dinner?”

“When?”

Duke leans back, sitting on his heels. “Let me check.” He pulls out his phone and sends a quick text to the group chat asking for a day they could have a family meal to meet his husband.

His phone is bombarded with texts and calls immediately until Barbara, bless her entire soul, forcibly mutes all of them and puts in a poll with a few dates, setting the poll to close in 24 hours.

“Okay, well, they’re deciding now, but probably soon.”

Danny nods. “Alright. I know these aren’t normal circumstances at all, but I’m so excited to meet the Bats.”

“You do not mean that after hearing all my stories about them.”

“No, I do!” Danny laughs, surging up to wrap his arms around Duke and pull him back down to lay among the giant pillows with him. “They sound nice!”

“The Bats sound nice?!” Duke repeats in horror. “Did you hit your head?”

“They do sound nice! You talk about them so fondly, and yeah they have problems and are dysfunctional, but they’re heroes. Of course they have problems. Even with all their baggage, they’re kind. And you clearly love them, so I do too.”

It’s hard to resist the urge to hug Danny tight enough to make him squeak while peppering his face with kisses, so Duke doesn’t. He just goes and does it, because he’s allowed to shower his husband (!) with affection (!!!) as much as he pleases.

“How are you real?” he says against the corner of Danny’s lips. “How are you so perfect! To me specifically! Honey, if we weren’t already married, I’d be going down on one knee right now.”

“I mean, you still can. We never got a proper wedding either. Think if we offer them a chance to help plan our wedding, they’ll forgive us for secretly being married for so long?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Duke says. He’s already giddy, just imagining what their wedding will look like, what song they’ll play for their first dance, where they’ll have the ceremony… He should create a Pinterest account to start putting ideas together. 

Later, though. He wants to woo Danny properly and take him on so many dates.

Dates which include dinner with the Waynes and Wayne-adjacents, apparently.

“You sure you’re okay with meeting them over dinner?” he asks, just to be sure. He knows how intense they can be, even when pretending to be normal civilians. It took him years to get used to them, himself, and he doesn’t want to push Danny into doing something he’s not ready to do.

Danny cups Duke’s face in his hands and gives him a quick, reassuring kiss. “I’m sure. If nothing else, it’ll be fun to see how long it takes for them to realize I’m not fully human.”

“I really am glad it’s you.”

“Yeah, me too. I’d choose you all over again if given the choice.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” Duke laughs, wrapping an arm around Danny’s waist.

“Can we nap now? Now that you’re here and holding me, it’s taking everything I’ve got to stay awake.”

“Yeah, we can nap now.” Duke settles into the pillows, Danny cradled in his arms and closes his eyes to bask in the quiet easiness of it all. 

He really couldn’t ask for a better husband, unexpected as he was. The others will see that too, once they meet him. It’s impossible to not love Danny once you meet him; Duke knows this all too well.

He loves his husband.

And his husband loves him back.

Duke is fully prepared to keep making that choice for the rest of his life.

[bittercafanddatapads]

Marshall Commander Fox is scarcely seen without his iconic helmet, even within the confines of the Coruscant guards headquarters. The freshest of shinies usually don’t see his face until a few rotations into their deployment, even then usually in private moments and passing chances. The very rare occasion Fox eats with his corries in the mess hall (the times he actually has time to), glances of Fox in the medical bay being treated after a sideways operation (only after everyone else has been cared for by his firm insistence,) the training assessments he’s able to schedule and be apart of and participate in (swift healing to the pride of cocky shinies he calls to the sparring mat.)

Rather, it’s not impossible that he’s most often unhelmed in the situations of senate view.

Talking down antsy senators is one thing, and there’s numerous reasons why Fox’s number one rule for his Corries to follow is to never remove your helmet in senate view. The ability to decorate yourself and make yourself unique is a freedom the Coruscant guard gets to indulge very little in. They can’t decorate their armor for their own safety, and still enabling them the freedom to decorate their bodies and hair Fox is thankful he’s able to allow. But Fox’s mismatched armor isn’t unique to be hypocritical towards his own rules and troopers. It’s to protect them.

When a senator finds yet another fickle complaint about the troopers in red, they can’t discern amongst a selective Trooper to pin the blame. But in the line of white and red, Fox’s red and white armor catches their eye. There’s someone they can funnel their frustrations towards. Fox’s scars, hardened eyes, and graying hairs is the only face they’ve seen helmetless, the face they think about when building their ire.

[funzige-gedachten]

👾The käärijä tamagotchi👾

I made this little guy for @jaarijani s birthday‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

[penguinpartypalooza]

I'm taking my life back. You can't hurt me anymore.

[anachronistic-falsehood]

i just. love qpac and qcellbit and their weird complex relationships. like when I hear celltw i think of cannibalism and the prison and all the fucked up implications of just. everything that went on there. when i hear pacbit i think of cellbit telling pac e mike that he loves them and that he’s no longer cell and that that monster died, and cellbit telling pac after the happy pills arc that he’s not alone anymore and he’s a hero, and them raising a kid together and joking about their past. like. it’s insane that one character can change so fuckijg much that two different ship names can make me think of two completely different dynamics, even though cell and cellbit are the same exact character in different points in time and celltw and pacbit are essentially the same ship

LIKE cellbit has changed so much but pac has stayed more or less the same and i just wonder what the hell cellbit must look like from his eyes. yk. how one person can change so much that your entire relationship has flipped on its head and now you’re family but you still find yourself scared of who he used to be sometimes regardless of how he’s changed. the duality of these fucking guys. i’m going to eat the floorboards

[icewindandboringhorror]

indeed my exact process once every 8 months or so

[amethystpath-writes]

Could you please write a story where a fae and a human have been friends for about a year. However, the human finds out what the fae is, and freaks out, thinking the fae is toying with him or wanting to make him his servant or something. When in reality, the fae had always watched humanity from afar, and just wanted to play along to see what it was like to have genuine friends?

Always excited to see you in my inbox, love! <3

Listening to Stars

******

"You lied to me?" The human's voice cracked, and the fae felt the emotion like a whip.

"I would never," he responded, void of tone. It took control from the fae, to not respond how he wanted. To cry, or to yell, or to do anything with an overtly amount of emotion. He wanted to say, 'I would never lie to you; I can't,' but that felt like rubbing the fact in his friend's face.

"I never said I was human," he said instead, and instantly came to regret it. Rather than stopping while he was ahead, and possibly keeping his friend, the fae continued. "I wanted a friend! A real one. The fae..." He looked at his feet, not able to look the human in its eyes, then shook his head. "The fae are full of trickery and deceit. I didn't- I can't be friends with them."

The human could only scoff in return, obviously hurt by the fae boy, hurt that the fae would keep this a secret for so long. "You think I don't know your ways? That I haven't been warned all my life of the games you play?" He muttered to himself in the next moment. "A year. A whole year." It was surely meant for the human's ears only, but the fae heard it and wondered if his freind wasn't upset at himself as much as him for being fooled. Not fooled. I wasn't tricking him.

"Of course," the human started again, "a year is just a blink of the eyes to you. How many of you were in on this?"

"In on...this wasn't some elaborate plan!" The fae felt a heat like fire rise to the tips of his ears. "You all think we have the answer to everything, don't you? That our magic makes us so knowledgeable that we're bored and turn to trickery to entertain ourselves."

"Sounds about right."

Heat spread to the fae's hands as he clenched them in tight fists. He wasn't sure exactly what he was mad at. It could have been himself for hiding this secret for so long, ruining any chance of continuing to be friends with the human. If he had been transparent from the start, this moment could have been avoided. Then again, how could he blame himself when it was at the rest of the fae which created this perception of their entire race.

“What will it take?”

“What?”

“What will it take for you to believe me?”

Thinking, the human squinted. “Show me what you really look like.”

What he looked like? “And what would that prove?”

“Nothing, I just want to see.”

He didn’t change his appearance. It would just confirm his likeness to his human friend and push him away even more. “I’m not going to-”

The human shrugged. “I guess I’ll be going then. Have fun tricking the next”- he gasped.

Pale blue skin, freckles like stars, and a wicked point of the ear.

“So, can you really read the stars like they say?”

“Read them?” The fae’s brow lifted, and for two reasons. One, reading the stars? What did that even mean? Two, he expected a larger reaction from his friend, with all his demanding and suggesting there was so much distrust between the two of them.

“Yeah, like a book. They say fae can hear the stars, the stories of their creation and demise.”

A rumour. Humans loved to make those about the fae. Then again, this wasn’t the worst one he’d ever heard them spread.

“I thought you hated my kind. Now all of a sudden you want to know if we can speak to the stars?”

“Listen, not speak. You can hear their stories, but they don’t respond. The fae have their limits,” the human boy explained.

“Fae can’t hear the stars!” What an elaborate lie to create about something the humans know nothing about. “Your kind fears mine and here you are saying we talk- listen- to the stars? What do you even know of fae that’s true?”

A new argument sparked. “And what have you heard of humans?” Or so the human boy thought. He expected his friend to say something about pitchforks and torches or maybe even the fights that break out in pig pins, outside of village inns.

“I heard you make music. That you hold balls just to sway to said music and that there are people who specialise in twirly clothes. There are others that specialise in decor, plates of would coloured with berries or little…what did she call them?”

“She?” the human interrupted.

Memories flitted across the fae’s mind, but he kept his answer simple. “There was a girl, years ago, that ventured to our borders. The others fooled her into walking the way she came, but I followed her to a human town. She was a friend.” He stopped for a moment, looked the human boy in his eyes. “I did trick you, and I’m sorry, but I didn’t deceive you with magic. I knew your kind already. You make better friends than what the fae do.”

The anger from before melted away, and in its place was a melancholic blanket. It shrouded the fae boy’s mind, draped against his shoulders, and stained his teeth as he spoke.

“We can say goodbye now,” the fae said. “I won’t expect to see you again.”

“Your friend from before, do I know her?”

He didn’t expect the human boy’s to ask. In all honestly, he wished he wouldn’t have. “You did.” The pain he felt thinking about her was almost too much. At times, he would remember the human boy’s relation to her. At these times, the fae would make an excuse to go home, then hide somewhere deep in the woods so his own mind wouldn’t find him. They didn’t know about his relationship with the humans, but they knew something was odd.

“As in ‘used to?’ Was she from my village?”

“Your home,” he specified. “Do you remember the kid that visited your home, a friend of your sister’s?”

The human boy’s brows drew together, confused at the change of subject, no doubt. “When she was alive, yes. He was visiting his relative in another nearby village. Did you know them both?”

Nodding, the fae explained, “I knew her. I was him.”

Crickets chimed around the two of them, reminding both of the setting sun.

“It’s getting dark. I should go home before…anything happens.”

“The wolves don’t touch these woods.” But he understood. He hid beneath a guise, then did it all over again. “Take your time. I’ll be listening to the stars in the meanwhile. You can raise your torches and pitchforks.” He smiled as he caught the human’s eyes.

“So you don’t listen to the stars. You listen to my mind.”

“Only the second time I’ve done it, actually, but we’ll talk another time. Go home, friend.”

[mxnordberg]

BUT WHO ARE YOU?

[cordelianewman]

I do hope you had the best Father's Day today, because you absolutely deserved it. Just got the kids down to bed, or well, Rosalyn is knocked out. Colton is fast away playing a new video game that I may or may not have bought him that'll keep him busy for hours until he falls asleep with the video game controller in hand. I'm leaving the cleaning till the morning. I was going to ask to escort me upstairs but I fear the poor adorable donkey we've rescued is feeling a bit homesick possibly, and hearing him cry crushes my heart so you might end up cuddling him tonight than me and my fancy lingerie. @cagenewman

[luthienne]

I wondered how often the future waits on the other side of the wall, knocking very quietly, too politely for us to hear, and I was filled with longing to reach back into my life and inform that unhappy girl: all around her was physical evidence proving her sorrows would end. I wanted to tell her that she would be saved, but not by an act of will: clever Gretel pretending she couldn't tell if the oven was hot and tricking the witch into showing her and shoving the witch in the oven. What would rescue her was time itself and, above all, its inexorability, the utter impossibility of anything ever staying the same.

Francine Prose, from Hansel and Gretel, as featured in My Mother She Killed Me, My Father He Ate Me: Forty New Fairy Tales

[flowercrowngods]

for @evergreennwilloww, i’m sorry it kinda ate your ask but here’s your steddie first kiss prompt fill, hope this is fine 🌷🤍

There are many versions of Steve Harrington and Eddie is kind of obsessed with every one of them. But this one? Oh, this one might be his favourite.

Steve, comfortable in his bed, his eyes closed and small smile tugging at his lips, illuminated by the soft warm glow of the fairy lights they installed above the bed the other day.

Lying on his side, Eddie traces the play of light and shadows with his eyes, his hands itching and aching to follow, but he clenches them in the douvet so he won’t do anything stupid. Steve’s lashes are casting long shadows over his cheeks and Eddie wants to draw him. Again.

He sighs a little, sounding wistful even to his own eyes and he can feel his cheeks burning already, bracing for the worst. But Steve’s smile only widens, and even though his eyes are closed and he doesn’t move his head, Eddie feels like he’s been found out.

Steve’s hand is resting right beside his on the covers, and Eddie looks at it for a moment. They’re so close. They’re always so close lately, and Steve is always smiling, never moving away. Always staying, never leaving.

It drives Eddie insane. Takes his breath away, makes the world stop, leaves him aching and yearning and itching to reach out.

It would be so easy, too, to stretch out his fingers, move his hand just slightly until his pinky can wrap around Steve’s thumb. To play with his fingers, careful and gentle until his hand rests on top of Steve’s and their fingers can slot together like they were made to do.

So easy. And he can’t breathe, can’t hear anything above the sound of his own heartbeat when he moves, slowly, so achingly slowly.

And then Steve turns his hand. Palm up. Inviting. And Eddie’s breath hitches.

“If you’re uncomfortable,” he whispers, though he barely has a voice, “or think it’s too much… Just pull away.”

Steve doesn’t.

The first touch is light, tentative, and it tickles. Makes Eddie huff on a smile, giddy all of a sudden. Giddy and disoriented and so, so brave.

Steve hums with the second touch, Eddie’s finger slowly running along his middle finger, tingling and warm, all the way down palm to his pulse point. It makes Steve’s hand twitch, almost reflexively, and Eddie wants more of it.

And then Steve’s eyes open and he turns to lie on his side, facing Eddie, never once moving his hand from where Eddie is playing with his fingers now, still so very tentative despite everything.

But Steve isn’t looking down at their hands like Eddie, and it makes him look up, meet his eyes. He’s never seen them so gentle, so bright in the soft light of the room, and it almost makes him look away again. But he doesn’t. Because he’s already being brave.

“Hi,” Steve says after a moment, finding the words he didn’t have all day. It fills Eddie with a different kind of warmth, knowing that Steve is being brave, too.

“Hi.” He rests their palm together now, his fingers moving in between Steve’s. But it’s Steve who really tangles their fingers, slowly, because Eddie can pull away anytime, too. He doesn’t.

And then Steve lays his other hand on Eddie’s shoulder, moving up, up, up, gently caressing the skin of his neck until it comes to rest on his cheek.

Eddie’s eyes flutter closed, and Steve whispers, “Pretty.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Yeah?”

Eddie opens his eyes again, because Steve needs to know. He needs Steve to know.

“Yeah.”

And then they’re both smiling, holding hands in the soft glow of this moment they made for themselves and each other. The world stopped and they improvised to make a better one. A gentler one.

Steve is the one to close his eyes first, breathing for a moment, before, “Eddie?”

“Hm?”

Steve’s thumb caresses the back of his hand, drawing patterns of gentle bravery that send goose bumps all over his body.

“Can I… Do… Permission to lean in?”

He wants to think it’s ridiculous, wants to huff and chuckle and find some witty way to retort. But not now; not with Steve, not when he’s been fighting to find words all day and finally, finally has them.

This perfect, perfect boy is asking to kiss him. Asking if it’s okay. And Eddie wants to write poetry about it, about permission sought and granted. Permission to give you my heart? Permission to stop the world with you and make a new one, just for now, just for us, just for this?

Permission, because Steve wouldn’t do anything to hurt Eddie or make him uncomfortable. Permission, because Eddie gets a choice in this.

“Permission granted,” he breathes, revelling in the smile he gets for it.

And then Steve is kissing him. Gently, sweetly; a chaste little thing, hand on his cheek, thumb stroking along the dimples of the smile he can’t contain.

When Steve pulls away, his eyes are still closed but his smile speaks for itself. Eddie’s hand comes up to comb through his hair; and Steve rests his forehead against Eddie’s, their hands still holding, their knees now touching.

Steve Harrington has many wonderful versions. But this one? Oh, yeah; this one is definitely Eddie’s favourite. He leans up to brush a kiss to Steve’s forehead, and another when he hums happily.

Yeah. Definitely his favourite.

[lyslsstuff]

Some of you ppl when it comes to rpf (f1 rpf specifically) are really thinking black and white, and you insult ppl for liking ships that have some kind of rancidity or that they dont even try to fix their problems.

Like sorry for liking a ship that is going through a rough divorce I like when it is more complex rather than just, normal type of shit.

[ssreeder]

Hi so I'm probably going to reread liab soon and like catch up bc the last thing I remember reading I think they were in BSS and they've probably moved on from there now like I think it's probably been like a year since I've read it I think I remember trying to reread at some point but then I stopped so trust I'll properly do it this time probably maybe but anyway the point is it occurred to me I haven't talked to you in ages so how have you been my beautiful Sreedy?? I miss annoying you and sending you mysterious anon emojis but honestly I like to think I've matured a bit since I used to do that I mean max will probably tell you otherwise but don't listen to her her opinion is irrelevant also don't listen to anything Merlin says ever bc we met in person and they're actually just a little bitch so yeah um ily im going to start liab now and if not now soon and I might put updates in the discord if im feeling it but also im looking forward to finding my old embarrassing comments I used to leave on every chapter so theres that

HELLO AGAIN 👋 LOVE YOU 🫶 I MISSED YOU

HIIIIIIIIIIIII BEAUTIFUL SPYYYYY!!!

I wholeheartedly agree about M&M (Merlin & Max) and the fact you traveled all the way to visit Merlin is IMPRESSIVE but now you both need to come visit Max and then roadtrip down to Florida. Mmmkay? & funny story is the boys are STILL in BSS haha. The fic will end in BSS(ish) - so we’re still there preparing for battle haha. I also slowed down quite a bit with updating & spent a lot of time giving the boys some healing and getting through some conversations & building up situation-ships but now would be a good time to catch up considering we’re about the battle it out! Yippieeee

as always spy you’re amazing <333333 you three stay out of trouble haha

[losersimonriley]

Sundowning 1st chappie will be up in a few hours