#I also wrote this a while ago

[callsign-songbird]

Gym buddy Simon

(Small chubby fem mc)

Gym buddy Simon. Soap set him up for one of those stupid "find me ___ person" sites as a prank, and he never expected Simon to find someone that he LIKED. And yet, there you were. Sending him a sweet little request, trying to work on your self-confidence. Tiny chubby little thing. Simon is immediately smitten. He knows that he's going to be more of a personal trainer than a gym buddy, but he really doesn't mind. Just means he gets to watch you sweat and work for HIM. And oh, he likes that. He loves it when you sweat, when you whine because something is a bit too heavy, or you can't take much more; he loves watching your muscles work and strain under your soft layer of squish. Honestly? Simon loves that squish. He has to focus on his own workout whenever you do jumping-jacks or anything that makes your little bit of chub bounce. If he does happen to see it, he'll become almost entranced, imagining kneeding at the soft flesh and littering it with kisses and bite marks, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of your plush hips and grinding you back against him. Before he realizes it, his mask has a small wet spot from where he was drooling. He's never been so excited to go to the gym. You're such an absent-minded thing, forgetting the most important things sometimes. But, it's ok because Simon always brings his gym bag, which is always loaded with snacks, protein shakes, pre-workout, hair ties, water bottles, and even some extra gym clothes. He's also incredibly accommodating and pays attention to small things. You have better cardio when listening to a certain playlist? He talked to the gym staff about using their speakers. Nervous about people watching you? Well, he's got the perfect little secluded corner for you. Feeling stressed? He's a great listener! On your period? (He figured out your tells pretty easy) he's got Midol and some feminine hygiene products in his bag of tricks, too. Eventually, you run into the rest of the squad at the gym, and he gets possessive! Long story short, this is a need.

[lady-shadow-and-darknesss]

Hear me out :

Teen Dazai and Chuuya going around finding every single arcade in the entire city and always having the very top two high scores in most of the games to the point where every single teen who has ever lived in Yokohama and has gone to any arcade is like "I don't know who the fuck Mackerel and Slug are but they're annoying."

[batsandbirdbrains]

The one where Dick is actually the biological son of Bruce and Talia

So I like the young justice cartoon universe but I do love fucking with a timeline. So let’s say it’s set in season 1, perhaps just after that mission where Artemis, Conner, and M’gann have admitted to the rest of the team how they all had ties to various villains. And the whole time Dick feels like an asshole because he’s been keeping this secret that he’s actually the grandson of Ra’s al Ghul, but he’s been keeping it secret for so long and from so many people that even when he does want to tell his team, he feels like he’s choking and he can’t breathe and he panics, so he never tells them.

For background, Talia hides Dick away with the Graysons when he’s maybe 6 or 7 years old, faking his death so Ra’s can’t get to him. She still meets with Dick as often as she can, he knows his mother, he loves her, but his grandfather terrifies him. Then the Graysons die when he’s 8, and Bruce Wayne just happens to be there and see it and gets it in his head that he needs to take this kid in, and Dick knows he’s his father, but he can’t bring himself to tell him. He’s scared Bruce won’t want him, and then where will he go?

Only Alfred knows, because he found a 10 year old Dick having a panic attack over it and managed to get Dick to talk about what was wrong, but he swore Alfred to secrecy. Alfred tried to convince him to tell Bruce, but he doesn’t push too hard, seeing how much it freaks Dick out.

So now the team is on a mission but all their intel was a trap, and it becomes very clear very quickly that the League of Shadows brought them here for something nefarious. And the whole time in his head Dick is going “shitshitshitshitshitshit” and he’s desperately trying to keep his panicked thoughts out of the mind link but the others do catch on to the fact that he’s acting real weird and they’re like hey man wtf.

But then Ra’s himself appears and perhaps a memory from his childhood surfaces and slips into the mindlink and it’s a memory of Ra’s threatening to slit his throat and toss him in a Lazarus Pit if he doesn’t start fighting back properly during training. And everyone is confused about who had that memory because they still don’t know Robin and Batman’s secret identities and also Dick’s face wasn’t really shown in the memory ANYWAY-

Ra’s is just very calm while his shadows subdue the team, they’re all kind of at a standoff, and he says quite clearly something along the lines of “Grandson, it’s time to stop this foolishness.��

And everyone is so confused bc who tf is he talking to, but Dick feels like he can’t breathe. Ra’s starts ranting about family obligations and unruly children who run away and hide and yadda yadda bad guy monologuing.

But then one of the shadows gets closer to Ra’s, and he hands off a little boy. It’s Damian, Dick’s little five year old baby brother. And Ra’s is holding a knife to his neck, threatening Dick with, “Come with my now, Grandson, and your precious brother wont be harmed. But continue to cower, and his blood is on your hands.”

Talia had been living away from the League of Shadows since becoming pregnant with Damian, trying to keep her youngest from ever having to experience what Dick had grown up with, trying to hide him from Ra’s. And in that moment, Dick realizes that his mother probably was never able to actually hide either of them, that Ra’s probably knew all along where both his grandsons were.

And a calmness sweeps over Dick as he watches his grandfather hold a knife to his baby brother’s throat, watches his baby brother struggle and cry out for his big brother. And then all the previous terror is replaced with fury.

“Don’t touch him!” Dick snaps, his voice cracking.

All the other team members look at him, so confused, until they start to realize that Robin is the grandson Ra’s has been talking to this whole time.

“I’ll go with you, just let him go,” Dick tells him. “But I swear to God if you hurt a single hair on his head I will fucking kill you!”

Ra’s just laughs at the idea of this scrawny thirteen year old threatening to kill him. His laugh is cold, amused, and it rings in Dick’s ears until suddenly it stops, and Ra’s is seething at him.

“Time to say goodbye to your little friends, Grandson. It’s time you come home.”

And he pushes Damian towards Dick, who is quick to catch him and hold him close, whispering, “Everything’s okay, you’re okay, I’m here, brother’s here, I won’t let him hurt you I promise I love you so so much Dami, I’m so sorry.”

And the team is yelling through the mind link for Robin to explain what’s going on and telling him he doesn’t need to go with Ra’s, they can help, but Robin just ignores them. He knows they’re empty promises. They’re no match for Ra’s and a team of his closest shadows.

And as Dick carries Damian towards the helicopter Ra’s beckons them towards, he just chants over and over in the mind link, “Please tell Batman I’m sorry. I was going to tell him. I promise I was going to tell him. I’m sorry, I’m - I’m - tell him to find Talia. Please tell him to find Talia, she can explain. I’m sorry.”

And if they hear his last plea of “Please tell him I was scared” as the helicopter door slams closed, he doesn’t know. He just continues holding Damian close, hiding his face in his shoulder, not letting Damian even look in Ra’s direction.

And for three months, Ra’s all but tortures him under the guise of training. He’s barely allowed to see Damian at all, and when he does get to spend time with his baby brother, he’s always covered in bruises and he’s so sad and Dick can see him hardening and it kills him. Damian is only five. A five year old shouldn’t have that kind of look on his eyes.

But after three months of watching shift changes, tracking supply shipments, and putting together a go bag, Dick manages to smuggle himself and Damian away from Infinity Island on a tiny little boat he covers with a tarp to make it look like driftwood.

They spend weeks running from Shadows, constantly finding them on their tail, and Dick is trying desperately to get them somewhere safe. He’s scared to lead them to the manor though, not wanting to force Bruce to fight a hoard of shadows for kids he might not even want (and the thought of Bruce not wanting them makes his heart shatter, he tries not to think about it). But he’s running out of ideas on where to hide. He doesn’t know who his allies might be.

But after a grueling fight where Dick is pretty sure he broke a wrist and sprained a knee and has various other cuts and bruises at various stages of healing, not to mention a poorly bandaged stab wound from a couple days ago (a lucky shot, he’d been distracted), Dick finds a zeta transporter.

And he uses an override to beam him and Damian up to the Watchtower. It’s the only place he can think of that the shadows can’t follow them. Part of him is shocked an override Bruce gave him still works.

And they land in the Watchtower in a heap, their clothes dirty and cut up (mostly Dick’s, he’d be damned if he let them lay a hand on Damian), a domino mask hastily pasted to Dick’s face and a hand in the back of Damian’s head to keep his face pressed into Dick’s shoulder. Because as far he knows, Bruce still hasn’t revealed his identity to more than a handful of senior League members, and he refuses to be the reason his father’s secret identity is exposed. Even if Bruce decides he wants nothing to do with them, he owes him that much.

They’re both out of breath and panting and starving and dirty and as soon as Damian realizes they’re safe from the shadows, he cries into Dick’s shoulder, squeezing his arms tight around Dick’s neck.

And a bunch of League members are suddenly there, intruder alarms blaring and reverberating around Dick’s skull, and they’re telling him to stay where he is and freeze and tell them what he wants and what he’s doing there. And he realizes they think he’s a traitor, and his mind stops for a second.

“Where’s Batman?” he finally manages to choke out. “Please, where’s Batman? I need Batman.”

He can’t hear anything they’re saying, his mind preoccupied with trying to stay calm for Damian and comfort him as best he can while various heroes are pointing various weapons at them. He just keeps asking over and over for Batman until his mouth is dry and he feels like he can barely breathe.

And suddenly Batman is rushing in, cape billowing behind him, and he’s barking at the others to back off and what the hell do they think they’re doing, and he’s kneeling in front of Dick, his arms hovering, looking lost and like he’s afraid Dick will shatter if he touches him.

Dick looks at him, and he can see the way he hasn’t shaved and there’s lines on his face and he looks exhausted, like he hasn’t slept in weeks, months maybe. And he realizes Bruce has been looking for him - for both of them - and he still wants him and he isn’t sending them away or putting them in shackles or taking them to an interrogation room.

And finally, after months of having to be the strong one for Damian, Dick has someone who can be strong for him. Dick crumbles, letting out a strangled sob and falling into Bruce’s arms and not being able to do anything but cry. He’s hugging Damian so tight, and now Bruce is holding them both tight too.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he cries, his breath hitching, “I couldn’t tell you, I couldn’t - I was scared you wouldn’t want me anymore. I didn’t think - I didn’t - he wasn’t supposed to-“

Bruce shushes him, calming him down, telling him in soft whispers that everything is okay, it’s okay, no one is mad at him, he loves him so much he could never not want him anymore.

After calming Dick down enough so he’s not on the brink of a panic attack anymore, Bruce picks up both his boys and holds them close, taking them to the med bay and basically telling anyone who tries to stop him that they can kick rocks.

[luminique]

the post abt tying a bow around lighters biceps has me thinking abt that thing where you test out different lipstick shades by covering ur partner in kiss marks n seeing what one looks best,,,,, and no I would not limit myself to his face

i think about this prompt like A LOT. as someone who lurvesss wearing lipstick, i genuinely think that he’d be the perfect candidate for it.

lucy prefers to ask you for makeup recommendations and purchasing it. not that she doesn’t trust lighter but after talking to you, you seemed to know more about it than he did. whenever it came to purchasing makeup, she’d ask you to go along with lighter to lumina square.

this was also a good way to buy some new products for yourself, a win win situation. there was a huge sale at the store for some products and many of them were lipsticks, you couldn’t possibly pass up on this opportunity. you both arrive back in blazewood, giving all of the girls what they requested for. with your own goodies in hand, it was time to do a little try-on to see which ones were worth the money.

back in your room, you began trying each one. swatching them on your hand then on your lips. the colors all looked good on you but there were a few things you couldn’t really test out this way. as if he magically knew, lighter knocked on your door, waiting for your permission before entering.

“burnice told me that there’s another nitro-fu- what are you doing?” he stopped in his tracks as he watched you try to kiss the back of your hand. he was confused at the sight, unsure of how to react. “did i… come at a bad time or is there a problem with my kissing?” he asked bluntly, thinking that there was some sort of explanation as to what you were doing. he didn’t think he was bad at kissing but maybe you were just to nice to tell him?

“oh, no. you’ve come at just the right time. i need to test these out and i think you’re the perfect test subject.” you held out your lipsticks to him and at first, he had flashbacks of when the girls put makeup on him because he lost in a drinking game against burnice. as your lover, he’d do anything you asked but he was ready to raise his hands up in protest to not be embarrassed again.

your smile never faltered though and you could see through his sunglasses. “just sit down and let me kiss you,” you reassured him and just like that, he was sat on the edge of your bed, obediently awaiting your kisses. in the privacy of your room, he could be as unapologetically needy and in love with you without having to act all cool.

your hand felt so gentle on his face, as if you’d hurt him in some way. you pressed a soft kiss on his cheek, the lipstick leaving quite the mark on him. he was a little bummed that it wasn’t on his lips but hey, a kiss is a kiss. you continued peppering his face in kisses, taking a moment between each one to change your lipstick.

he was turning into putty, each kiss made his heart beat faster. he wasn’t sure how many different kinds of lipstick you had, they were all the same to him. by the end of it, his face and neck were practically covered with your kisses. you examined each one carefully, he was beginning to feel a little shy from how close you were to him.

“you’re turning red, lighter. i can’t decide which lipstick looks good if your cheeks are the same shade!” you told him jokingly. this made his blush even worse actually, trying to hide his embarrassment by clearing his throat. “i think you look good in all of them…” he mumbled to himself, knowing that you’d hear it too.

“i want to know which one would look good when i kiss you. i think the third one has the nicest contrast with your hair.” your fingers went up to his hair, twirling it as you took a good look at your ‘masterpiece’. when you kiss him…. his thoughts were everywhere now, just the idea that people know you left those marks on him had his head spinning.

he pulled down his glasses just a little to be able to look at you. “we can always test even more, i’m all yours,” the words fell out of his mouth with no hesitation. both of you had nothing else to do for the rest of the day, there was definitely a lot more of his body that you could try your lipstick on until you were satisfied.

[serpentface]

Pylidaigh

(A story to teach children about winter safety.)

Thirty years ago was the worst winter in living memory. Even in the lowlands the rains came only as blizzards and pelting sleet, and in the mountains the snow was so deep it almost came up to your knees, and the cold was so bitter that you could feel the blood freezing in your cheeks. The winter barley was dead before it could be born, and cattle and horses starved and perished in huddled, shivering masses. Many people died that year.

I speak now of one of them. He was a stubborn old man, still quite fit in body and defiant to the point of foolishness, and so he had deigned to travel even in these conditions. Only a short distance, mind you, a path between two villages that would be a breezy two hour's walk in good weather. But this was not good weather. The journey had taken up most of the daylight hours, and there was still a good ways to go. The sun was setting red across the low plains far to the west, and a mass of dark cloud loomed in the east. The old man was growing very, very tired.

He passed into a thick copse of pines where the snow was shallow, and he considered stopping to rest until morning. It would be a miserable night, to be sure, but he could tough it out. He had the warmest of woolen coats, and there was plenty of fuel about for a fire and good shelter if the weather turned. But now, in the distance of the valley beneath him, he could see the lights of his village. He was so close! He would just have to trudge his way down a little longer, and then he would be bundled in blankets in front of a warm hearth with some hot mead, and this sorry excursion would be no more than a bad memory. A little snow couldn't defeat him.

So he set out with renewed vigor, leaving the trees behind him. The eastern wind whistled past his ears, picking up now, and a crow flew right in front of his face and lit itself on a lone pine. It cawed three times in warning. He cursed at it.

And soon the wind had turned into a gale, and it carried with it a terrible storm. The snow fell again, heavy and wet, and the lights of the village were lost to him. And the wind only blew harder, and the blizzard became so thick he could barely see the hand on his outstretched arm. His clothes were becoming soaked down to his very skin, and he shivered ceaselessly. There was great fear in his heart now, for he could grudgingly acknowledge that he had made a terrible error. But there was still hope. If he could just keep moving downhill!

But his fate was decided, for the cold madness began to take him. Even as he trembled, the old man felt as if his flesh was burning. He took off his hat, then his coat, and then his tunic. He took his boots off, then his pants, until he was walking through the blizzard naked as the day he was born. He felt none of the cold though, only a terrible, bone-deep weariness. He lay down in the snowdrifts and curled up into a ball. The old man died where he laid.

The blizzard raged on for two bitter days and nights. When it was over, the bad weather broke and the day became was sunny and mild. But the reprieve came too late. The old man’s corpse was completely covered beneath the snow. His very soul had frozen over.

Those in the village below had been looking for his return on the night he died, and by now were quite certain of his fate. His family wept and mourned for the beloved old fool, but none dared to go look for his body, for this had its own dangers.

"We will search for him as soon as we can, but not yet," the old man's son said. "If he froze to death in that storm (and he certainly did), waiting a little longer won't make any difference. We will find him when the snow has melted."

But the dead man's grandson had inherited some of his grandfather's obstinate bravery, and was having none of this cowardly talk. The day was beautiful and clear, and so fair that he could have gone out bare-chested with little discomfort. This was hardly the kind of weather in which one was met with an icy death, or any of the worse things that a bad winter can bring. So he set out, in secret, along the path to the upper village.

The youth did not have to travel very long before he found signs of his elder. There was a hat blown up against a shriveled old oak, and a boot stuck out from a snowdrift. But there was no sign of the old man himself. The boy had already stepped right through the place where the man had lain dead, but he noticed nothing. There was nothing for him to notice. The body was gone.

He kept on walking and looking for signs. And as he traveled, he started to hear something. It was the sound of footsteps, crunch, crunch, crunch. And the sound of something dragging over the snow, sssssss. The youth saw nothing when he looked around, but the sounds continued, growing closer and closer. He grew more fearful, but he could make out no movement against the white snow until the footsteps were almost upon him.

There stood his grandfather, but not as he knew him. His naked flesh was so pale he could barely be seen against the snow. He was little more than skin and bone, looking more like a skeleton than a man. His arms were longer than he was tall, and they dragged behind him as he walked, quickly now, crunch, crunch, crunch, ssssssssss.

The youth started to run, and the pylidaigh ran after him, crunchcrunchcrunchcrunch sssssssssssssss. He was a strong and athletic young man, so he began to gain a lead. But then the hissing stopped. The next thing the boy felt was cold hands wrapping around his chest. The pylidaigh had grabbed him, and it reeled him in with its terrible arms. It was much stronger than the boy, and he was pulled helplessly against the ghost’s freezing, shivering chest.

A pylidaigh is not a truly evil spirit, you see. There is little malice within it. There is little in it whatsoever, save for the endless, horrible cold, and dim memories of what it was to be alive. It remembers what it was like to feel the sun on its skin, hot tea in its stomach, the warm touch of a hand. A pylidaigh can never feel this warmth again, and yet is consumed with a terrible desire for it.

So it held its grandson close, but it wasn’t enough. The heat from the youth's body could not warm its frozen skin. It had to have more.

It pulled him in tighter and tighter, so tight that the boy's bones started to crack and his tongue squeezed out, and it still wasn’t enough. It had to have more.

So it sunk its teeth into its grandson’s neck and ripped out his throat. The hot blood sprayed out, all over the pylidaigh’s skin and the snow around it, and it still wasn’t enough. It had to have more.

So it sucked out all of the blood, until the boy was almost as pale and shriveled as the pylidaigh. And when that wasn’t enough, it bent down, frenzied, and slurped up the rest of the spilled blood from the corpse, and from its own frozen skin, and from all the snow around it.

The pylidaigh was swollen up like a tick now, but not even a man’s entire lifeblood could warm its frozen body. It had to have more. So it left what was once its grandson dead in the snow, and wandered towards the fires of the village.

It arrived in the cover of darkness. The people heard it before they saw it. First, a brave dog barking, then a long, terrible silence. Then a sound outside- crunch, crunch, crunch, ssssssss. It approached each and every hut, seeing the lights of warm hearths within. But it could not gain entry. The villagers had wisely cleared away the snow from their doors and windows, for winter spirits cannot cross over the bare earth. All the same, it scratched at the doorways and reached through open windows from a distance, its arms searching blindly through the air for anything that breathed and bled. Old men and small children alike huddled in far corners, and wept at the sight of its empty white face and black eyes.

The night passed in horror, but the ghost was gone by the morning light. The next day was even warmer and sunnier than the day before. A few days later, the snow had melted until only little patches remained, and so a search went out for the remains of both the old man and the young boy. But there was nothing to be found, not even of the poor boy, for he had frozen beyond help too. The two ghosts had fled high into the mountain, where the snow still lay in thick sheets, and where they could wait in hidden, icy grottoes through the summer's heat.

Neither has been seen again by any who lived to tell of it, but they are not gone. In winters when the snow falls thick and lasts long, pylidaigh come back down the hills. The wise do not wander needlessly, stay inside at night, and keep their doorways clear of snow. But on nights when the snow falls heavy, you may hear them outside. A scratching at the door, the chattering of teeth, slow footsteps, crunch, crunch, crunch, and a dragging hiss, ssssssssss.

[megacarapa]

i am once again back with another extra comic for my dumbass fic anyway au where senku fucking snaps

[silentsockfeet]

sick and tired of people trying to portray ellie as a fuckboy that’s not who she is!!!! she is a DORK she is a NERD she’s a fuckin LOSER !!!!! she collects comic books and video games and writes emo ass poems in her stupid little diary!!!!!! she has no game she thinks making puns is equivalent to flirting and she tells her crush she smells like hot garbage !!!! she is NOT a fuckboy!!!!!!

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Sometimes I think I’m not that weird and then I spend a solid amount of time wondering what kind of contraceptives are available in the Grishaverse and specifically how accessible they are in the Barrel, particularly based on the quote “Getting pregnant isn’t actually a special talent. Ask any luckless girl in the Barrel”. Is unwanted pregnancy more common in the Barrel than elsewhere in Ketterdam because of the lack of social services in the city and especially in its poorest areas? is it because teen pregnancies often lead to kids being kicked out so they end up in the Barrel? is there a higher statistic by product of the pleasure houses and especially if there aren’t safe contraceptives readily available in the pleasure houses? and if so what do the people running the pleasure houses do to the girls because of it? is it because unexpected pregnancies in higher social classes would just lead to rushed marriages so it’s more noticeable in the Barrel? or is the comment based solely on Kaz’s individual experience of the city, ie its slums, in which case whilst it’s telling us about the Barrel it’s not making any particular comparison to the rest of the city? I kind of assume there must be some contraceptives available because the possibility of pregnancies in the pleasure houses is never discussed but I doubt they’re readily available and based on what we know about the resources and development in the worldbuilding and timeline may not be the most reliable, in which case what is happening to indentured girls who end up impregnated? Because, somehow, I just don’t think they’re safe. (Where could I have possibly gotten that idea?) So yeah, I am, in fact, that weird. But I really need to know the answer to this.

[steddiehyperfixation]

so you don't get lost (steddie ficlet)

written for @steddielovemonth day 17 rating: T cw: alcohol tags: first kiss, clubbing, college au, platonic stobin prompt: Love is about a hand reaching out to you so you don't get lost

“She’s totally into me, right?” Robin asks as they wait for their drinks at the bar, her smile a mile wide, and it’s been a minute since Steve’s seen her smile like that. 

“Yeah, totally,” Steve agrees. The girl Robin’s been talking to all night is drifting back over to them even as they speak, the two of them like magnets since they first traded smiles on the dance floor earlier that night. 

Robin glances back at her and bites back a wider grin. She bounces on her tippy toes and whispers to Steve, “If I make out with her it’s not gonna make you feel awkward, is it?” 

Steve shakes his head. “Go ahead,” he encourages. 

It had been a group effort to get Robin out tonight. Her university friends had enlisted Steve to help drag her out of the mopey funk she’d been in since getting broken up with two weeks ago, and it had taken an hour of Steve hyping her up while she kept crying off her attempts to do her makeup before she finally managed to make it to the club. He’s just glad it had been worth it. 

“I don’t even know if I remember how to do this,” Robin mutters, a little nervously, as she and Steve grab their drinks and rejoin her friends on the dance floor. But it turns out, she has nothing to worry about. The two girls resume their orbit around each other, and the second the next beat drops and the lights strobe, the other girl finally pulls Robin into a heated kiss. Steve watches this, and he smiles fondly. She deserves it. He’s happy for her. 

And he’s totally not jealous. Not necessarily of Robin, obviously, or the girl she’s kissing, but simply of the fact that they’ve so easily found a hot drunk stranger to make out with at the club and he…hasn’t. He can’t even remember the last time he’s had a decent kiss, much less scored at a club, though not for not wanting to. 

Steve finds himself glancing at Robin’s friend Eddie, the tatted-up metalhead Steve’s felt a pull towards since the first time they’d met. He thinks about kissing him every time they’re out together, and maybe there was a time when Steve would’ve just gone for it, a time before he’d taken a few too many hits to the ego and developed doubts and insecurities, but now the thought just makes him nervous. Eddie makes him nervous. 

He feels that nervousness now as Eddie catches him staring and he shakes those lovely dark curls out of his face and smiles at him. It bubbles in his stomach, flutters in his chest. Steve downs the rest of his drink and looks away. The alcohol floods heat through his veins and blurs his vision, but the ever-present thrum of anxiety just from being in Eddie’s proximity still isn’t dulled. He bobs numbly to the music, avoiding looking at anybody at all now, only staring at the floor or the wall or some super fascinating point just above everyone’s heads, sure he looks like an absolute freak. 

It goes beyond just wanting to kiss Eddie; Steve’s not stupid, he knows the only explanation for this sheer amount of nervousness he feels around him is that he’s got an actual, proper crush. Because not only is Eddie super fucking hot, he’s also sweet. Steve is an outsider in this group and he knows it, the college dropout who only tags along because Robin insists on it, but Eddie never makes him feel like that. It’s always Eddie who makes sure he’s included in conversations, always Eddie who makes a point to loop Steve into the context of inside jokes and stories whenever Robin is too distracted to. Steve craves those interactions, gets a thrill every time Eddie so much as speaks to him. So he doesn’t only want to kiss him, he also just wants Eddie to like him, wants him to see him as a friend at the very least. But it’s not like they’ve ever even hung out outside of a group setting, and sometimes Steve fears Eddie’s just being nice and he doesn’t actually see him as anything at all. 

Steve’s drifted so far into his own head he doesn’t realize his group is on the move, pushing deeper into the dance floor and leaving him behind. 

“Steve!” Eddie’s voice calls out to him and snaps him out of it. Everyone else has been taken by the crowd, but Eddie hangs back, reaching his hand out to Steve. 

Steve takes it, swallowing down the way his heart pounds as Eddie’s fingers curl around his hand. Eddie pulls him through the throng of jostling, sweaty bodies, and even though he maintains a tight grip on Steve’s hand, he still keeps looking back at him like he’s making extra sure Steve doesn’t get lost. Warmth blooms in Steve’s chest. Maybe he’s just drunk, maybe he’s just delusional, but all of the sudden he feels so very very cared for. 

“Thanks,” Steve says, nearly shouting to be heard over the music. 

“‘Course.” Eddie smiles as he turns around to face him. They’ve caught up to their friends now, but he’s still holding Steve’s hand. “I’d never just leave you stranded.” 

Of course he wouldn’t. He never has before. Steve just smiles back and squeezes Eddie’s hand. 

They’ve only just let go of each other when Robin and her girl, still kissing clumsily and staggering about the dance floor, stumble straight into Steve and knock him off balance. “Woah!” Eddie reaches for him again instantly, looping an arm around Steve’s waist to keep him from toppling over or careening into the crowd. 

“Ah! Sorry!” Robin giggles before she’s whisked away again. 

Eddie laughs. “Good for her, right?” 

“Yeah, good for her,” Steve says, watching his best friend spin out of sight, and when he looks back he startles at how close he and Eddie are, suddenly very aware of Eddie’s arm around his waist and his hands on Eddie’s chest. 

“You okay?” Eddie asks, his grip on Steve tightening like he means to steady him. 

“Yeah, thanks again.” Steve regains his footing, but he doesn’t pull away. There’s something there, he thinks, in the way Eddie’s always reaching out to him so he doesn’t get lost, literally and figuratively, in crowds and conversations. It could just be friendly, it could just be nothing, but for the first time, Steve lets himself hope. He even thinks about leaning in right now, but then he thinks about it too much, and he doesn’t. 

Instead, there’s a weird moment where they’re both just staring at each other. Eddie’s got this confused little smile on his face like he’s waiting to see what Steve will do, and when Steve doesn’t do anything, Eddie’s smile abruptly becomes more playful as if he’s trying to break the tension, and he starts theatrically swaying them to the music, even though it is most definitely not the swaying sort of beat. Steve laughs, his racing heart making it come out giddy and giggly, especially when Eddie drops his waist to grab his hand and twirl him around. 

Eddie pulls him in close again then, and this time Steve doesn’t think at all. In fact, it’s unclear which one of them leans in first; all Steve knows is that their lips finally, finally meet in the middle and he finally, finally gets to tangle his hands in Eddie’s hair, and it’s sweet and it’s hungry and it’s absolutely perfect. Steve holds onto Eddie and he gets lost in him. 

When Steve meets back up with Robin outside after the club closes, they exchange a celebratory, congratulatory high five, the both of them with matching kiss-swollen lips and dates set for next week. 

[vuelode-irbis]

This is how I prevent myself from remembering embarrassing moments of my life, unfortunately, it only works if my braincells can't connect right away.

[ID: scanned comic in two images. It features an anthropomorphic cat with a blue jacket talking to themselves. In the first scene, they're opening their fridge with a neutral expression. The voice in their head, represented with black bubbles, says "I was recalling something…" The cat asks "Really?". The voice continues "Yeah, but I can't quite remember… It was very embarrasing… I believe we were at…" The cat realizes they're remembering an awkward event from their life as they close the fridge with a yogurt vase in their hand.

The voice is interrumpted by the cat shaking their hand energetically, erasing the voice's bubble and shouting "Noooooooo! Shut up! Shut up!" The voice screams "AAAAAAAAAAGH!" as it was interrumpted abruptly.

The cat puts their hand on their head and mutters an incomprehensible sound, as they try to distract themselves from thinking. Meanwhile, the voice in their head keeps trying to remember "… we were at… hmmm". In the next panel, the cat raises their yogurt close to their face and shouts "Yogurt!", their face enlightened.

They raise the yogurt vase even higher and start monologuing "Yogurt… Uh, yogurt is a dairy product, hmmm, I don't really know how they make it, but I think it's fermented. When I tasted actual yogurt for the first time I didn't like it, I realized Yoplait is a lie, but I'd rather live in that lie, that sugary lie, than the bi-" They're interrumpted by the voice in their head, which shouts "Noooooooo!"

In the next panel, the cat looks up happily, awaiting for a reaction. The voice finally says "I forgot". In the last panel, the cat answers "Good", pleased with themselves, and gets ready to drink their yogurt. End ID.]

[malacandrax]

ok i am posting this here to forbid myself from trying to finish this rn. I am going to REST (its almost midnight... there is no longer time for restful activities...)

[leonardalphachurch]

i was trying to figure out how to make tucker be less shitty in a way that would work in canon without making it sound like a Very Special Episode about it and settled on the answer that he’s genuinely trying to improve but just. really dumb about it. like so:

tucker: im sorry, kai, i guess what i said to you was… misogyny?

kai: yeah… you know, you should talk to my hr rep. she’s the one who taught me i shouldn’t take my shirt off in front of my employees

tucker: what? why?

kai: apparently having my tits out makes people “uncomfortable”

tucker: who would be uncomfortable about your tits? they’re awesome!

kai: i know, right! but i don’t wanna make anyone uncomfy, so these puppies stay in their cages

tucker: well i don’t wanna make anyone uncomfy either… you know, if you were a dude i bet people wouldn’t care if you took your shirt off— oh my god. thats misogyny!

later

tucker: wash, guess what! i learned what misogyny is

wash: …what?

tucker: well, yknow, like, i knew what it was but did you know that, like, it’s still an issue that affects women in real life?

wash: ……………y. yes.

tucker: i know! crazy right? hey, carolina!

camera pans to carolina, who was standing right there the whole time

tucker: it sucks that you can’t take your shirt off in public. i think you should be able to take off your shirt AND not have guys make any comments about your tits, even if they’re awesome.

wash: do you want me to punch him or do you want to do it yourself

carolina: no, no, i… think this is actually an improvement

[melien]

Missed these guys, might reboot their legacy too🤔

[elin-moon]

The Friendship of Edward VI and Barnaby Fitzpatrick

The friendship between these two young boys is quite an interesting one on the account that it can appear to be an unexpected one. Edward was the heir to the English throne, later King in his own right, while Barnaby was the eldest son of an Irish Baron, send over to England as a show of loyalty from his father. One would imagine that two boys from such differing backgrounds and sets of expectations would hardly gravitated towards each other, yet they did. One has to wonder what brought them together.

[lyxchen]

Okay I want to say something that is really important to me personally!!! If you make fanart, any kind of fanart that's about or related to a part of a show that has not come out yet (for example a new season)... Then that is still valid fanart once that part of the show is released. Even if the speculating fanart you made can not be canon anymore after the new season is released.

And just as importantly: if you have fanart planned concerning a part of a show that hasn't come out yet, but aren't able to finish that fanart before that part of the show is released, then you should still make that fanart after the new part of the show has come out!!!!

As an example I'll take Squid Game cause that is what I'm currently stressing myself about. I have a lot of fanart ideas that I want to draw or have already started that are speculation on what will happen in season 3. I won't be able to finish or even start most of them before season 3 comes out on friday. But that's okay!! It is totally okay for me to still make that fanart Even If my idea or speculation on season 3 will be proven to be wrong. And that goes for everyone in this fandom. If you have a really cool fanfic idea on how for example In-ho's identity reveal to Gi-hun will go and then the season comes out and it happens differently (which is very likely), then you should still write your fanfic about it!!!

The same goes for fanart that's based on lore that has been updated in the new season.

Also lastly: it's also very cool to make fanart of things that have happened in past seasons and topics that have already been resolved. Just because Gi-hun after season 3 will know that In-ho is the frontman doesn't mean you can't make fanart of him not knowing that anymore. Okay? Okay! Great <3

I love you, keep making great fanart and don't stress yourself because you feel like you need to get all your stuff out there before it can be "disproven". Fandom is about fun and creativity and there is never a point in time where your fanart is "wrong" or "too late" <3

[pinkstations]

PinkStations Ultimate Farm Map

~ This ultimate farm has all the space and organization you need to bring your Stardew Valley empire to life ~