#I’m writing more tonight

[bloobydabloob]

Been getting into yellow lately

Dirk ranting from Curious cat asks under this cut

Thanks to these people for speaking with me.

[urdreamgirls-dreamgirl]

what, like it’s hard?, pt. one

“it’s just that… if i want to win a seat in congress by the time i’m thirty, i need to find someone who’s serious about my career. not some little elementary school teacher that cares more about his students than what he’s wearing on my campaign stops,” tommy tells steve, as they’re sitting in quite possibly the fanciest restaurant steve’s ever step foot in. the menu hadn’t even included any prices.

“but… i’m seriously in love with you.” steve feels like his whole world is falling apart. just last week he’d been so sure that tommy was getting ready to propose. he’d introduced steve to his family—they’d spent a week out on martha’s vineyard for a family reunion at which steve had met tommy’s great-grandmother, hands laden with rings as she’d winked when tommy had asked for a private conversation. steve had been so sure that conversation was about the family ring.

“and i love you too, baby, but look. you don’t want to have to leave your students for half the year to come on the campaign trail with me, do you?” tommy asks, not even really looking at steve. he continues to just eat his stupid dinner as if he’s not ripping steve’s heart out at this very moment.

and steve can’t help but think how silly this all is, because it’s not like tommy’s actually running for anything right now. steve doesn’t even teach yet, beyond the two days a week he does his student teaching. they’re only 22, they haven’t even graduated northwestern with their bachelors degrees! but tommy’s saying these things as if they’re all real, right now.

“and i’m off to harvard next fall. it’s not like we’ll stay together while i’m there and you’re still here, right?”

and the thing is, steve had actually thought he’d be going with tommy to boston. they’re both set to graduate in the spring, steve with his degree in education and tommy with a dual major in pre-law and political science. they hadn’t really ever talked about it, but they’d been together since the beginning of their sophomore year. so yes, steve had thought they’d still be together when tommy started at harvard law.

but now steve’s starting to feel extra stupid.

“so… what? you’re breaking up with me?” steve starts to feel his chest tightening, like he might cry. he can’t believe that two hours ago he thought he’d been getting ready for a proposal.

“don’t think of it as a breakup, stevie… think of it as a conscious uncoupling. we’re just moving in two different directions. i’ll be at harvard law next semester and you’ll be…” tommy gives him a look of slight disdain—steve has never seen tommy look at him like that. waitstaff? sure. his driver? absolutely. but it’s never been directed at steve before. “well, you’ll be teaching snot-nosed six year olds. we’re on different paths.”

and that’s what truly makes steve’s blood boil. his passion for teaching and education is one of his greatest qualities and he’d thought that had been part of the reason tommy loved him. he didn’t realize that tommy loved him in spite of that. he’s not gonna let some asshole like tommy montgomery hagan iii tell him he’s no good.

so he doesn’t respond. he just takes the linen napkin off his lap and throws it on his half-eaten steak dinner and marches out of the restaurant.

tommy doesn’t even follow him out.

~*~

“oh steve… i’m sorry,” robin says to him about an hour later while steve lays his head in her lap on their dingy couch.

“it’s not even that he broke up with me,” he explains through tears. “it’s that he basically said i was worthless. like i couldn’t do anything better than teaching. as if teaching isn’t even an admirable profession! where would he be without his teachers, huh? isn’t this all about going to stupid harvard? what does he think the professors there actually do? knit?”

“is this a bad time to tell you that i always kind of hated him?” robin says, maybe trying to get him to laugh. but it kind of surprises steve. he sits up, knocking her hands from where they’ve been carding through his hair in the process.

“you did?! no, you didn’t.” he searches robin’s face for a moment and then sighs. “why didn’t you say anything? you could’ve saved me a whole lot of wasted time.”

“babe, you were so gooey-eyed for that guy, nothing i said was gonna change that. a crowbar couldn’t have pried you away from him. but you have to know he was an asshole.” when steve stares at her blankly, she huffs. “steve, he used to offer to cover the whole tab when we went out. how often did he ever actually pay, even for his own drinks? he made poor jonathan cry the last time we were all here for game night, just because jonathan asked for clarification on the rules for pictionary.” steve is still staring at her. “he tried to stiff argyle by offering him a flight on his dad’s private jet instead of paying for his weed and we all know he doesn’t even have access to the jet. dude was cheap as fuck and not even nice about it.”

steve thinks about it. it was kind of true. tommy was a horrible tipper—steve usually laid down a couple of twenties when they went to dinner together when tommy wasn’t looking. he can remember more than a few times where the guy had sent their food back even though it had looked perfectly wonderful to steve. so… okay, maybe robin had a point.

steve tells her as much, then adds, “but he was always nice to me.”

robin snorts. “are you kidding? he’s stood you up so many times i can’t even remember all of them. remember that time he said his first impression of you was that you weren’t as hot as your pictures? who says that to the person they’re dating?”

steve groans and lays his head back down in her lap.

“okay, so maybe you have a point about that too. but i was gonna marry him, rob. what do i do now?” he knows he’s whining, but he feels just a little bit entitled to it right now.

“i don’t know, babe. get over it, i guess. welcome to the world of us singles. it sucks out here.” steve can hear the fondness in robin’s voice as she says it, but still. it does sting just a little.

they sit there in silence for a while, with robin running her hands through his hair again. it’s so soothing that he almost jumps out of his skin when she speaks again.

“hey, you know what would be super funny?” she’s laughing a little as she says it.

“what?” steve had been dozing just a little and his voice sounds muffled by fatigue.

“if you got into harvard and just showed up on the first day. imagine the look on his face.”

steve laughs at how ridiculous that sounds. like he could get into harvard. plus, he’s got teaching to think about. he doesn’t have a place yet, but he knows he’ll get one soon.

but as he sits there with robin’s hands stroking through his hair, he begins to daydream about how shocked tommy would be. about how he’d have no choice but to eat his words when steve proves himself by getting into one of the most competitive programs in the country. about how good it would feel to prove the bastard wrong.

“robin?” she hums in response. “you’re a goddamn genius.”

~*~

“dingus, are you sure you want to do this?”

the spring semester starts in three days. it’s their last semester at northwestern and there’s nothing but great big darkness on the horizon of steve’s future. he hasn’t slept in two days, busy studying, thick workbooks piled around around him at the kitchen table. he knows what he must look like, over-caffeinated with bruises under his eyes.

“i’m sure.” steve has his lsat exam in one week. “i have to take the exam this week. apps are due by march first.”

“no, steve, i don’t mean taking the test. i mean applying at all. it’s clearly more stress than it’s worth. do you even want to go to law school?” robin sounds concerned and normally steve would think it’s very sweet, but currently it does nothing but irritate him.

“i could,” he responds grumpily.

robin sighs. “i just mean… is this worth it?”

steve looks up then and sees her biting her lip, clearly worried about him. he puts his pencil down and stops the timer on his phone, giving her his full attention.

“this isn’t just about tommy.” robin gives him a skeptical look and it’s his turn to sigh. “it’s really not. maybe it started out that way, maybe it was just a stupid joke to get revenge on the asshole, but now it’s more than that. it’s proving that i can do something unexpected of me.” he swallows. “no one even believed i would get into college. i was just some stupid jock in high school who’d never amount to anything. and then i got in to northwestern and i was so shocked and happy. but i found out that my dad had actually pulled a bunch of strings. so i hadn’t gotten in on my own merits. he didn’t think i could. but now…” he runs a hand through his hair nervously. he’s never said any of this out loud before. “he’s not around now. there’s no one to help me. no safety net. if i can do this, it’ll prove something to me. something that maybe i don’t really believe yet.”

he expects robin to say something about external validation being a corrupting force and identity built on academic achievement being solely a losing game, but she doesn’t. instead, she sits down across the table from him and picks up a workbook.

“okay,” she says. “what do we have to do?”

~*~

“mail here?” steve calls out when he hears the front door close behind robin.

there’s a moment that feels like a pause. “yeah, it’s here.”

steve practically sprints from his bedroom to his living room. robin holds a single white envelope in her hand. steve all but snatches it from her.

his fingers move to rip it open, but then he hesitates. he thrusts it back towards robin. “i can’t,” he tells her. “you do it.”

her eyebrows shoot up. “you’re sure?” steve nods. he watches her rip the envelope open, bouncing on his feet. she scans the page and then she’s smiling.

steve grabs the paper from her. “oh my god?!” he yells. “oh my god!”

robin practically jumps into his arms. “179, baby! harvard law here we come.”

~*~

even after such a successful run at the lsats, there’s still the little matter of actually getting in to the school. steve’s only experience with the academic application process was with undergrad and it appears that applying for anything beyond a bachelors degree is an entirely different ball game. he’s so out of his depth that he’s forced to turn to grad school message boards for advice and tips of how to get in. it seems like everyone else is applying to a hundred different schools while steve’s only applying to one. he learns this is a terrible strategy for planning one’s future, but that doesn’t really matter to steve. for him, it’s harvard or nothing.

there are so many different parts of the application that it makes steve’s head spin. there’s the statement of purpose and the personal statement—the difference between those two requires robin’s careful and slow explanation about three separate times. then there’s the writing sample and the application and the recommendations and the transcripts and and and

but with robin’s help, steve completes each component and successfully sends his materials by the day of the deadline.

steve’s never been a patient person. no one on earth would accuse him of that, so even he can tell that he’s getting on robin’s nerves every day as he practically pounces on her when she returns from collecting the mail.

and then one day, finally, at the end of april, she comes through the front door and clutched in her hand is a big, thick white envelope emblazoned with the words ‘harvard law’ in bold, beautiful crimson red.

~*~

“last chance to back out,” robin says smiling as she swings herself up into the passengers seat of their rented u-haul.

“nah.” steve returns her smile as he slides his sunglasses from his hair onto his face. “let’s get out of this dump.”

and with that, they leave their first apartment behind, headed to the coast.

[wanted to finish this completely before posting but my benadryls kicking in and i have no self control. eventual steddie, promise! no tag list for this one, sorry!! it’s giving me anxiety on the other one lol absolutely not edited, if u see a typo no u don’t. i wrote this on my phone in a feverish frenzy. also, i originally invented someone for the role of warner but then i was like ‘IDIOT!!!!! why would u not choose tommy?????’ so if there’s a name in here that shouldn’t be, no there isn’t.]

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #142 Part 2

His parents had spent years working on their portal, to the point where they were neglecting their own children. Danny didn’t know any better, neither did Jazz. To them it was just how their family ran and for the most part it worked for them. It allowed Danny to really study space and the Stars. His room was covered with different ship models on the shelves, glow in the dark stars on the ceiling and posters on the walls.

Jazz had similarly explored her own thoughts and topics as she studied Psychology. Her room was more feminine but still had a certain scientific decorum to it.  

He never thought that he’d suddenly be ripped from all the things he loved. But here he was with the trench coat man, instead of taking some biology class or something.

“What happened with the portal?” Danny asked.

The man took a long sigh, “listen… quite a lot of shit went down after your accident.” 

“That tells me nothing,” Danny glared at the man.

“I get your upset kid, but let me at least know your name. Mine's John Constantine,” 

“…Danny,” Danny muttered after a moment. He wasn’t sure he trusted the man but he guessed he had no choice. He was also noticing he felt a bit off, it was the weirdest gut feeling and Danny was having trouble telling exactly what the feeling was. It was like the feeling was telling him to trust John, although at the same time John had this weird feeling about him that had Danny feeling weary. He decided to trust John just a little, hopefully it got him back home, after a moment Danny spoke again, “…Can you at least tell me if the portal worked?”

The room was silent for a moment and then John spoke “Alright, fine, I’ll tell you what happened but some background first, do you know who the ancients are?” 

The name didn’t sound familiar, “Ancients? Like Ancient Aliens or something?” 

“No, no…” John took a swig from a flask in his pocket and then started fiddled with an unlit cigarette he pulled from a different pocket. He then looked Danny up and down, “You don’t know the first thing about the infinite realms do you?”

“The what?” None of this was making any sense and the more Danny talked to this guy the more he was getting a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. Something about this conversation felt wrong, like Danny should know all of this already but he just didn’t. 

“Right well… I guess the easiest way to explain this is the portal your parents made was to the infinite realms.” John said, putting the cigarette in his mouth.

“My parents called it the Ghost Zone.” Danny muttered.

John seemed to chuckle at that, “I mean it is mainly inhabited by ghosts, however they aren’t the only ones, far from it in fact. I’m sorry but… I couldn’t allow your parents unlimited access to the realms. I had to disable it and prevent it from being reactivated.”

Danny felt a little disheartened after hearing that, he guessed John was probably right though. He remembered hearing his parents talk about how they’d dissect every ghost they found to study them. The bully’s at his school often bullied Danny over it especially after his dad and mom would continually embarrass him on parent teacher nights and on field trips.

Danny let out a small sigh, “so when can I go home?”

John looked a little surprised, his eyebrow quirked up, “so you're unaware of your situation right now?”

“Situation?” Danny trailed off, he remembered getting shocked and then he remembered waking up here, “where are we?”

John let out another sigh, “shit, well from my research you're supposed to know everything about your powers when you wake up.”

This made no sense to Danny, powers? Danny didn’t have powers, he didn't have the meta-gene.

“Powers? I don’t have the meta-gene. I think you have the wrong person.” Danny stated as he folded his arms in front of himself.

“Then how are you floating?” John asked with a smirk.

Danny looked down and he indeed was floating just an inch off the bed, he wondered when that started but the feeling threw him off a little as he stumbled a little trying to keep himself upright. It didn’t work and he fell back down on the bed with a little thud. He turned to see John watching him with a small hint of amusement in his eyes. 

“What am I?” Danny asked, his voice small and a little panicked.

“You, Danny Fenton, are an Ancient. I know the term makes it seem like you're old but the term is more because your people are ancient in age.” The explanation made no sense to Danny but he could somehow float now. He thought the term ‘Ancient’ was a little much for some floating powers.

[crybaby-bkg]

cw: pregnancy, kids (you guys have a daughter together), fwb’s, angst with a bit of a hopeful ending, refers to you as ‘girl’ once

Friends with benefits Bakugou who never really got over his ego to fully commit to you. You’re a little ashamed to admit it, but when you fell pregnant, you thought that things would change. That the whole “no feelings” aspect would’ve been dropped, that he would’ve embraced you fully.

But he just…didn’t? If anything, he distanced himself away from you, became so formal like you were another coworker he would address. It was heartbreaking, going through your first pregnancy feeling so, so alone, but having to grin and bear it the whole way through.

He supported you though in every way that he could. He never missed an appointment, would trek to your house during late nights whenever you craved something. He even moved you in to his own apartment during your last trimester, but a couple months after your baby was born, you went back home. You never felt unwelcome, but you couldn’t pretend to be a happy family when he slept in the guest room every night.

So now, you coparent quite easily. At least, it seems easy to Bakugou, but really, it’s all a facade.

In all honesty? He thinks he’s a fuck up. An idiot. The stupidest, shittiest person who’s ever existed.

He thought what he was doing was enough, that the words he didn’t say carried across oceans, formulated into titles that he never verbalized. So when you told him you would be happy to coparent, his world felt upended suddenly, as he holds his tiny little baby girl in his arms.

Coparent? How could a couple coparent? Where did he go wrong? (He only slept in the guest room to give you and baby space, only moved you in late because you lived so far away and you were getting so big. He never said I love you because he was too embarrassed to say it out loud. He didn’t know he had to say it out loud to solidify it. He thought you just knew.)

So it’s why his heart breaks when he catches a glimpse of curly blond hair and red eyes in the grocery store. He tries to duck behind an aisle, but his baby would recognize him anywhere. (It’s true; you’ve sent many videos of her recognizing him on billboards and tv commercials and magazines.)

“Bakugou?” You call, ducking around the corner to catch a glimpse of him. He tries to act nonchalant like he’s looking at cans of soup, tries not to cringe at your formal name. He turns when you come into view, eyes drinking in your attire. His heart breaks a little when he recognizes the shirt you took in your second trimester, still has the pic you sent him of you grinning as you show off what you stole.

“Hey.” Bakugou greets gruffly, mouth pulled tight, but it cracks into a grin when his daughter starts squealing. She’s in the front part of the shopping cart, twisting her little chunky body to get out and get to him. She damn near screams when he sets his basket down to pick her up, rubbing his nose to hers.

“How ya doing, squirt?” He asks quietly, pecking at her chubby cheeks as she instantly starts babbling to him. He holds her close to his chest, eyes full of pure love for his baby girl, and it makes your heart squeeze so tight you think it might burst.

“This isn’t your neck of the woods.” You mutter, head tilting to the side as you take in your daughters excited face to see her father. Bakugou’s eyes snap to your own, letting his daughter play with his fingers in the meanwhile. He looks embarrassed, cheeks a dusty pink as he grumbles and looks away.

“I was just picking up some stuff to drop off for her. Was gonna text you and see if you were home,” he replies, and something tells you that it’s a lie. But you don’t pester him about it, just nod a few times, taking in the sight.

He looks so good like that, in his compression shirt and sweats, his hair mussed from your daughters incessant pulling. He’s grinning at her, but looks so bashful when he turns to you, like he’s thinking about things he knows he shouldn’t, like he has a boatload to say but can’t cough up.

And if you were a mind reader, you’d be so fucking right. He can’t help but reminisce on before you got pregnant, the nights spent with you. The day you told him you were having a girl, the tears you cried when you delivered her. He thinks, filled with so much guilt the entire time, that he wants another one. With you.

“‘S it okay if I walk my favorite girls home?” He asks you gruffly, nibbling on your daughters cheeks to hear her giggle again, uncaring of the drool she leaves on his hand. You feel your eyes widen at his term for you, face suddenly flushing. Favorite? You, his favorite?

Something tells you that you shouldn’t fall down the rabbit hole that is Bakugou Katsuki and his suppressed emotions and shitty ego. But there’s another something that tells you to trust it this time, to let things happen organically and without expectation. So you do.

“I’m sure she would love to show her daddy the new toy her grandma just brought her.” You tell him, giggling when he rolls his eyes at the mention of his mother. But he walks with you the entire time you finish up your grocery order, holding your daughter the whole time and pays for your groceries despite repeatedly telling him that he doesn’t have to.

He pushes her in the stroller stored underneath the shopping cart on the way home, making small conversation. And when you’re halfway home, does he reach for your hand. Only to cross the cross walk though, he tells himself, only for your protection. But he doesn’t let go until you’re in your own place, and even then, he’s close by the entire time. He helps you put away groceries, remembers where everything is like he lives here.

And for some reason, the familiarity makes your heart ache a little more than you would like it to.

[loverscrossmp3]

happy belated, lily. hope you make ur bf laugh a billion times more in the afterlife

[littledoggyboy]

Does anyone CARE that I’m a sensitive little BABY who needs to be HELD

[xoxoemynn]

🌸 The things I could do if I didn’t have a job that constantly drains me and a head that constantly pains me 🌸

[flowercrowngods]

Prompt that has been eating my brain: Eddie finishes his book, and he hasn't shown it to anybody. Steve knows about it, but he doesn't really know much about it at all. And of course, dedications and acknowledgements. Eddie has been wandering around the apartment grumbling to himself for the best part of two weeks trying to figure them out. What if they fall apart the week after the book comes out? What if they end up hating each other? What if every time he goes to sign his name he's reminded of the boy he lost? I need your thoughts because you have better thoughts on this than me.

you have better thoughts on this than me what the fuck dude 😭 i mean i do have thoughts. i hope they get the bats out of your brain

“Eddie,” Steve’s voice gently breaks through the eerie silence that has oh so mockingly settled in the room. It’s silent because Eddie is staring at the screen, unmoving and petrified. He’s been staring at the word Acknowledgements for so long it has long since stopped looking like a real word, the concept disintegrating while its meaning is only gaining weight, cutting off his throat at the worst of times and making him frown in frustration at the best of times.

The book is finished. It’s done. How come he’s only hitting the hardest part now? It’s fucking laughable.

“Babe,” Steve says again, and this time there’s a warm body at his back, leaning into him until arms wrap around his shoulders and Steve’s cheek comes to rest on the crown of Eddie’s head. “Come to bed,” he whispers, and Eddie leans back briefly, soaking up Steve’s warmth.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” he murmurs.

“Liar.” Steve huffs against him and then shifts to press a kiss to Eddie’s hair before moving back to his original position. He must be looking at the screen, and Eddie wants to reach out and hide it, close the windows, shut it all down. “I thought you were done?”

“I am,” Eddie says and sighs.

“But?”

“But I’m being stupid about it.”

Steve makes an unhappy noise and wraps his arms tighter around Eddie. “Wanna talk about it?”

Does he? He doesn’t, it’s stupid, it’s literally not a big deal. He’s just all up in his own head about acknowledgments, because that’s like breaking a wall. Writing a book can be all about the characters, about the setting, about the message or the journey or whatever.

But when you open a book and on the first page it says, For Anna, then that makes it a real thing that happened in this world. It’s not isolated anymore. And when you finish the book and are about to close it, but then it says, I’d like to thank a whole bunch of people without whom this would not have been possible, then that’s sort of the most mortifying thing Eddie has ever had to confront.

Because what if he thanks Dustin but then something happens and they stop being important to each other? His name will forever be in this book, immortalised as long as people know to read these letters and words. What if he dedicates this book to Steve and then they fall apart? Eddie doesn’t want to build the immortality of art on the fragile pillars that are his heart and soul.

But he can’t tell Steve that. Because Steve would look at him, cup his cheeks and tell him not to acknowledge him like that, then. Easy as that, Eddie, now come to sleep.

But it’s not easy as that.

“That depends,” he says at last. “Are you feeling particularly philosophically inclined tonight?”

“Hmm? How’d you mean?” Steve sounds sleepy and wonderful, and Eddie wants to wrap himself up in it. Wants to write a thousand more books and dedicate them all to Steve, because even if it doesn’t last, it exist right now. Their love is worth to be immortalised for what it is.

Okay, maybe he does want to talk about this pretty badly.

“Let’s get ready for bed and then will you let me ramble at you until we fall asleep?”

“Hmm, deal,” Steve says, smile evident in his voice, and he presses another kiss to Eddie’s hair before they head into the bathroom to get ready for bed together.

When Steve pulls the covers over them and cuddles into Eddie’s side, they spend a few minutes just basking in each other before Steve pulls back to look at Eddie.

“Okay, what’s got you so up in your head, hm?”

Eddie explains. And Steve listens. And he doesn’t take Eddie’s face in his hands to tell him not to worry about mentioning him. Eddie is glad he doesn’t.

“There’s enough of everyone I know in these characters already, but still somehow this is different. What if you’ll hate me some day? What if we don’t make it? I don’t… I don’t want to immortalise something that will cause me pain. But I don’t want to run from it either, because no future version of either you or me could change what we have right now, right this second. You will always have been lying next to me just now. Nothing can change that. So it’s really not a big deal, but…”

“But it sort of is,” Steve finishes for him, and Eddie sags into the mattress a little because Steve understands.

If not everything, then the part that matters.

But Steve isn’t done yet, and he has tis thinking face on, the rare one that allows Eddie to lie back and listen as his Stevie will be the one with the rambles tonight.

“I get why you would obsess over that, but I think you might know the answer already, too. And maybe you’re running from that? Because no matter how hard you try, you can only ever immortalise the present. Or the past. But you can’t do that with the future. So what you have to do is to hope and to trust and to try.”

He intertwines their fingers and Eddie pulls him close, nudging Steve to lay his head on his chest the way he loves to do even as he continues talking the thoughts right out of Eddie’s head.

“I mean, obviously I can’t promise you that we will last forever. I wish I could, but time and life are just too tricky to be recklessly challenged by such promises. But I can promise you that no one will leave you because you loved them hard enough to put it in black ink on a paper in the back of your first ever book, Eddie. I know it’s terrifying to communicate to the world that you care about people and to hope that they care right back, but in the end that’s what… That’s what got you to write a book, isn’t it? You talk, very dramatically at times by the way, about the relationship between art and love and life. Obviously, writing the book is art, influenced by life and love. There is no shame in framing your art in a little bit of life and a little bit of love. With the dedication and the acknowledgements. Because you’re you. And you’re loved and you love. No future will change that. Maybe the people will vary, but what you immortalise aren’t necessarily the people themselves. You immortalise for yourself a reminder that good things exist in your life.

And when they leave? They’ll be replaced. And maybe you’ll have a collection of acknowledgements one day. Of all things good. All things life and love and family. And, I don’t know, but I don’t think that���s too bad. Mortifying, sure. It makes you vulnerable, definitely. But most good things do when they’re worth being acknowledged.”

It still baffles him an unfair amount, time and time again, how existential Steve can be sometimes. How much he listens to Eddie to use his exact terms, how much he understands from the barely intelligible mutterings and ramblings that Eddie loses himself in almost immediately, getting all wrapped up in the golden thread until there’s no unwinding anymore and he has to give up.

Buts it’s fine if he gets it all twisted because Steve will be there, right there by his side, and carefully disentangle Eddie’s limbs with a confused little frown because to him it all makes sense somehow, and he doesn’t really understand how Eddie got here.

So when Steve says all of this, Eddie feels gutted. He feels seen. He feels a bit stupid for worrying so much. The weight on his chest is lifted and the obsessive worrying that has made his head all fuzzy is retreating.

Can it be so easy? Can it just be a collection of who he is, whom he loves and who cares for him enough to let themselves be immortalised by a shapely blotch of ink? Can it be okay in the end? Can it be that sixty years down the line, Eddie looks through all his books and reads the dedications and acknowledgements, and think kindly of everyone?

The image makes him long for that kind of peacefulness. A serenity, a love, a lifetime acknowledged.

“No, that’s not so bad at all.”

Eddie’s eyes begin to sting for some reason and he wraps his arms tighter around Steve. A silence settles between them that tastes a lot like freedom.

“Hey, Stevie?”

“Yeah?”

Eddie swallows and smiles into the darkness of their room. “I think I’ll dedicate my first book to Wayne.”

A happy hum reverberates through Eddie’s chest, and Steve, half asleep by now, says, “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

“Thank you, Stevie.” For being the smartest person I know. For loving me. For acknowledging.

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

Dead dashboard confessional parasocial hours: it’s been so nice to see Taylor kind of reclaim her place in the world and work out in real time what does or doesn’t feel good in terms of being out there, and she’s clearly flourishing on a personal level by taking in all these experiences! And idk if it’s just the late hour or the post-livestream hangover or what, but it just kinda feels like something shifted yet again last week — like she and Travis did their goofy little skit because Theatre Kids and it was fun and felt good and she’s like “YES more of that please!”

And I’m not saying that as in “omg she’s going to publish her entire life online now” at all, but more in like, it’s kind of endearing to see her try these new things and figure out her boundaries and be like “yes this sparks joy and I want more of it in my life” (or on the flip side, cutting out the things that don’t and protecting her peace). I know that ET article earlier today was just a fluff piece to keep stoking the fires until they can actually Say It, but there’s something about Tree’s the quote saying they had fun coming up with it and were glad they got to share that moment together and want to keep having fun like that was just really sweet. And again, I don’t think it means they’re going to publicize their lives regularly by any means, I really do feel like it was like, “hey you know what would be funny?” And they took it from there — almost like that skit was for them and we were lucky to be bystanders to the bit lol. They just have so much fun together and it shows. I don’t think they’re trying to capitalize off their relationship, I think it’s just the pop star on a global stage equivalent of that one couple you have in your friend group that always goes all out for Halloween with the elaborate couple costume and commits to the bit every year.

It just seems like they’re really settling into things and figuring out as they go along how they can do the things they want to do within the parameters of what feels safe and joyful and is less scary than it once was. Taylor got to take part in her own way in something meaningful to Travis (e.g. the Super Bowl) and he’s gotten to take part in something meaningful to her (the show) and it’s just really sweet how they embrace each other’s worlds. And maybe it was “new and defining” because Taylor’s never been that overt before on stage on a tour of this scale, and not only did the world not cave in, she had a blast and got to have a chuckle. For someone who said she always wished she had someone by her side to share her successes with and never did even in her longest relationship previously, it’s got to be wild to literally have her partner on stage with her on her record-breaking tour.

No wonder she’s probably gagged at all this. The universe really did shift and it was all for them etc.

[callixton]

merrily throuple fucking save meeeeeee. sobbing over them

[venstm]

this is not an alhaitham blog I’m just an alhaitham shaped human.

[gigglesandfreckles-hp]

i somehow always forget how impossible it is to be productive during major football tournaments. like it’s so embarrassing that weeks of my life will be lost as i avoid every life responsibility for hours and hours because some random guys are kicking a ball around.

[strawbubbysugar]

[m1d-45]

Let it be known that I love writing fluff, and I listen to character audios sometimes. SO! I came up with a cute idea for sagau imposter au. I heard somewhere that Xiao's adeptus form is a bird, so I wonder, what kind of bird? And that got me thinking. Xiao being a little song bird, or perhaps even a cardinal.

Now imagine: while looking for the imposter, Xiao stumbles upon them sitting beneath a tree, just feeding some birds. Said birds are absolutely loving the attention since the creator of Teyvat is giving them food and love!

Xiao watches, rather curious. The creator he knows hates birds, because they always dive and cause problems for them. But now... these little birds have completely abandoned any fear they may hold for human beings, happily landing on the hands and shoulders of this supposed imposter.

So he decides to test something.

Xiao turns into a small bird and approaches cautiously. In his smaller form, he's vulnerable to attack. But the person before him doesn't try to hurt him. Rather, they smile and call him "little friend" as they offer food to him. In his distrust, he bites them with his sharp beak.

His heart shatters when he sees divine blood spilling from the wound.

He's about to fly away, get as far away from here as he can. He found the true creator, and instead of worshipping them, he bit them! He caused them to bleed, he shouldn't even be near them-!

His mind stills when they pet his feathered head.

They murmur kind words to him, apologizing to him. They believed that they had startled him, that he bit to protect himself. They forgave him, they felt no hatred towards him, no anger or disappointment. Instead, they offered some chopped almonds, hoping he'd prefer that over bird seed.

He sang for them as he perched on their shoulder.

After that, he did his best to secretly protect the creator he'd harmed. He would adopt his smaller form and sing for them when they felt sad, and he'd use his human form to guard them from a distance. Yes, it made his chest ache whenever they looked at him with fear when they saw his more human form, but the yaksha only shook it off. It only made sense that you'd be scared. He was a frightening person, one that had tried to harm you before. He refused to try and change your feelings towards him. He didn't have the right.

He would be content to sing for you as a harmless bird.

-sibling anon (sorry if this is out of character for him I just like the idea)

oh….. he’s so soft…..

xiao hovering near the edge of the crowd, at first, drawing your attention since he doesn’t seem to be eating any of the seed you’d passed out.

when he finally hops within arms reach, you reach to nudge some of the food next to him closer, only to quickly whip your hand back. the birds around (on) you all flutter at the sudden movement, but you inspect your finger, the blue blood of teyvat welling up. your instinct is to stick it in your mouth, but that doesn’t seem safe considering a bird bit it, so you dab at it with a napkin.

the bird cries and flaps his wings, distraught, and your heart hurts. poor guy, you probably scared him, moving so quickly.

you pull out some chopped almonds from your pocket. the plan was to have them as a snack, but now… you put a few in your palm and close your hand around it, reaching forward to gently run two fingers over the birds back.

the other birds in the area seemed receptive to that, and this one does too, calming down considerably.

you take your hand back, opening your palm to drop the almonds on the floor, nudging them close before backing off.

“there you go,” you murmur, as the bird dips down to inspect the food. “i won’t hurt you.”

you allow yourself a silent cheer when it eats one of the almond pieces.

you see the small bird fluttering around you often, always on the edge of your vision. it’s easy to identify, the purple patch of feathers on its forehead easily standing out, and you’re always certain to push some food over to it. almonds, not birdseed.

the bird is a dark blue-teal, the underside of its wings a softer blue. it’s like no other bird you’ve seen in liyue, something that quickly catches your attention.

you brush some dirt off you as you stand, noting the way the bird immediately looks up from its food, unlike the others, to flap up into the tree you were sitting under.

you crack a smile, carefully reaching a finger for it. you’re slower this time, cautious of its skittish nature, but it lets you approach. when you carefully pet over its head, the birds eyes close.

your smile grows, and you try not to laugh at how confused the bird seems when you pull your hand away.

“i have to go,” you explain. “the millelith… they’re getting too close again. i won’t be able to see you again, little friend.”

the bird chirps, nearly indignant, and you do laugh this time. putting a small piece of almond on the branch in front of it, you wave goodbye to the other birds, seeing the blue one hadn’t touched the almond.

you frown. hopefully it’ll be alright….

xiao watches you until you’re out of sight, and even then, he stays on the branch.

you…. he’d forgotten you were being hunted by the millelith. he’d forgotten the order to look out for you. he’d forgotten the qixing called you a criminal.

who could blame him? it was easy to forget everything at your side, when you carefully ran your fingers over his feathers, scratching at his jaw with the edge of your nail. yes, he was vulnerable as a bird, but it was easy to be vulnerable with you. it was easy to be open, to sing as best he could in this form, to allow himself close enough to see the way your eyes lit up whenever another bird landed on your outstretched finger.

xiao dropped to the ground, morphing back into his human form. predictably, the birds cawed and flew away quickly. he watched them go, his mind contrasting it with how readily they flocked to you.

you…

he turned to the branch he was on, to the small almond piece left behind. the small symbol of your care, of how you recognized that he didn’t touch the birdseed and instead offered him your own food to eat. normally he wouldn’t lower himself to eating off the ground at all, let along bird food, but almonds weren’t awful and you seemed so happy when he ate..

xiao looked back to where you’d gone, to the sandbearer trees swaying in a soft wind.

he allowed his form to fall away and spread his wings, taking flight on the same breeze that urged you along.

perhaps he’d forget his orders for a little while longer, if it meant he could spend that time with you.

perhaps he’d forget his orders for a little longer, if it meant he’d get to spend that time with you.

[what-even-is-thiss]

.

[gaylittleguys]

ok I know people have written/talked about Ginger Snaps (2000) as a trans allegory from Ginger’s perspective but when I first watched it I read it as a trans-allegory horror from Brigitte’s perspective. More along the vein of being a transmasc teenager and seeing female puberty and the transformations that come from that as horrifying, and fearing that happening to you too.