#also the fic is GORGEOUS

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

how i’m looking at @applysome rn after she only went and surprise gifted me the most wonderful milex fic just to cheer me up 🥺

[capquinn]

Couldn’t Tell | Q. Hughes

summary: The relationship between you and Quinn is difficult to define. Friends and something more but you can’t be sure. Sidestepping the issue only prolongs the loop where the potential for something real stays just out of reach until one of you addresses it head on. pairing: fem!reader x quinn hughes content: nothing crazy, just a lil situationalship angst word count: 1.6k ↪ masterlist

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

It’s not like you had come to the party as dates, but he had asked if you were going so you had been hoping you’d find each other and spend the night getting tipsy in a dimly lit corner of the bar. That expectation made the disappointment hurt all the more.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

There is no way that he can’t see that she’s flirting with him, right?

Your eyes drift back to your friend, tuning back into the conversation you had only been half-listening to, trying to appear indifferent.

“So there I was, sitting in this meeting, with all these big wigs, and suddenly the CEO turns to me and asks for my opinion. Can you believe it?”

You nod absently, stirring your drink with the straw, gaze flickering back across the bar where Quinn is standing. He’s still engrossed in conversation with a brunette, his laugh ringing out through the room, mingling with the ambient party noise. She flicks her hair and lolls her head to the side, commanding his full attention. His smile widens, and he stares back at her like an idiot.

“I was so nervous but I just went for it. Told him all my ideas about improving the marketing strategy, and he loved it! They all did. They might even implement some of my suggestions for next quarter,” your friend continues, unaware of your distraction, voice a bright thread in the background.

Over her shoulder, you exchange glances with Quinn and it’s like a jolt of electricity, snapping you back to reality. “That’s amazing,” you murmur, focussing back on your friend. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks!” She beams. “It has been such a whirlwind. And the perks… Free coffee, flexible hours, and we even have an office dog called Max.”

“Oh, a dog. That’s so cute,” you say, trying to muster genuine enthusiasm, but now, the brunette is touching Quinn’s arm and he isn’t flinching away from her touch.

He throws his head back with another bout of laughter, and a surge of jealousy washes over you, your heart crashing with heavy thuds in your chest. Is he serious? Your eyes meet again, and it’s a sharp reminder of just how out of sync you feel.

Each shared glance feels like a lifeline, as if he’s going to offer a smile and make his way towards you, but then he looks away and the chasm between you grows.

It’s not like you had come to the party as dates, but he had asked if you were going so you had been hoping you’d find each other and spend the night getting tipsy in a dimly lit corner of the bar. That expectation made the disappointment of seeing him with someone else hurt all the more.

“Anyway,” your friend says, leaning in, tone dropping conspiratorially, “enough about me. How are things with you and Quinn? I’ve seen you making eyes at each other all night,” she giggles, throwing a glance over her shoulder in Quinn’s direction. If she notices the other girl, she doesn’t mention it.

You force a laugh, bringing your glass to your lips, buying some time to think of an answer other than, ‘well, he’s over there with someone else and I’m pretty sure they’re flirting with each other and there isn’t anything I can do about it because I’m not actually sure where we stand and it’s driving me insane.’

You had hoped tonight would provide a renewed sense of clarity. A glimpse into whether or not the connection that shimmered between you both was more than a fleeting moment. Instead, his easy laughter with someone else highlights the lingering ambiguity and you wonder if you had been reading the signals wrong all along. Are you merely a casual acquaintance, just a friend of a friend, rather than someone he genuinely cares about? Are your feelings misplaced or have you been expecting more than he’s willing to give? Perhaps you’ll always be on the periphery of his affections rather than at the centre.

But once you swallow around your racing thoughts, you settle with, “it’s complicated.”

“Complicated?” She raises an eyebrow. “What’s the deal?” The question hangs in the air, but your attention is already elsewhere.

What you had been dreading all night long finally happens. A cruel twist of fate.

The brunette glides closer to Quinn with deliberate grace, her hand trailing lightly over his arm, lingering just a moment too long to be casual. She leans in and her lips hover tantalisingly close to his ear, brushing against his skin. Intimate and unmistakable. Your heart twists in knots as the space between them charges with a private electricity, and it puts so much distance between you and Quinn that you don’t think you’ll ever be able to bridge the gap now.

And then there is a change in his demeanour that’s jarring. Quinn’s initial surprise morphs into a subtle discomfort. Body tensing and eyes widening slightly as the closeness of her whisper registers. The easy laughter falters, replaced with a hesitant smile. He shifts, creating a noticeable distance between them, gently moving away from her touch. In a swift move, his gaze sweeps across the room and lock on yours through the crowded space, his eyes a mix of concern and something that looks like an apology.

A ball of anxiety sits heavy in your chest as he looks directly at you, realising that he saw you witness the entire exchange. The weight of it feels like a direct confrontation to all your insecurities. The uncertainty of your relationship with Quinn has always been a hidden wound, but now it’s exposed and raw.

You turn back to your friend. “Sorry, I just need to…” you trail off, straining a smile as you collect your belongings. Unwilling to sit here a moment longer and bear witness to any further turmoil. “I think I need some fresh air. It’s getting crowded in here,” you excuse yourself, sliding on your coat.

She watches you fumble with your bag. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll be back soon. Save me a drink,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

When you reach the exit, the cool night air is a welcome contrast to the oppressive heat inside the bar. You take a deep breath, trying to shake off the tension of the evening. Just as you step outside, you sense a presence behind you, and then Quinn is suddenly in front of you, blocking your path.

“Hey,” he says softly, his voice almost a whisper against the backdrop of the quiet street. “I’m sorry—”

“You don’t need to apologise,” you cut him short, your voice thick with exhaustion.

His brows furrow, a look of genuine confusion on his face. “I feel like I do,” he presses earnestly.

“It’s fine, Quinn.”

“It’s not fine,” he insists, his voice low and regretful. “I didn’t realise what was going on until it was too late. I’m sorry.”

“You really don’t need to apologise for being oblivious,” you start, your voice faltering slightly despite your best efforts to appear indifferent. “We’re not together so it’s not a big deal,” you hesitate, chuckling nervously, bracing yourself as you teeter on the brink of blowing this whole thing wide open.

You’re tired of the ambiguity that hangs between you, the way your conversations dance around the core of what you both really want. To be together or to go your seperate ways — you really couldn’t tell the difference anymore. The fear of pushing too hard and making things awkward has kept both of you on edge, leading to a pattern where everything remains in flux. It’s as if every time you think you’re getting closer to an answer, the goalposts shift, and you’re left grappling with even more questions than before.

But there’s a simmering resolve that builds with each passing moment. Continuing to sidestep the issue will only prolong the loop where the potential for something real will always stay just out of reach.

Gathering your strength, you take a deep breath and steel yourself. “It caught me by surprise because I thought you liked me back and that this was leading to something more. It made me realise that I don’t really know where we stand. Am I misreading the signals?”

Quinn’s eyes twinkle with a mix of amusement and warmth. “Am I doing this all wrong?” he asks, his smile playful.

You look at him, puzzled and twinging with frustration. Is this a joke to you? “What do you mean?”

He chuckles, a soft, disbelieving laugh that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. “Seriously. Am I not being obvious? I’m out here trying to apologise and explain so that you don’t get the wrong idea,” he pauses, gauging your reaction. “I’m interested in you, and I should have made that clear, not just to her but to you too.”

Your breath catches as his words sink in. “Oh,” you whisper. You take a moment, processing the shift in the conversation. “But tonight you were—,”

“I honestly didn’t even realise she was crossing lines,” Quinn interrupts, his tone apologetic. “Hand over heart. I thought she was just being friendly,” he laughs, scratching the back of his neck, a flush creeping over his cheeks. “I mean, I should have noticed.”

The haze is beginning to clear.

“So, you’re saying…what exactly?”

A smile grows as he steps towards you, eyes locked on yours. “I’m saying that I like you and I want us to be more than whatever this is,” Quinn affirms, his gaze steady and sincere, fingers intertwining with yours.

You squeeze his hand, relieved. “I want that too,” you confess barely above a whisper, acutely aware of how your heart is racing as your bodies inch closer.

His smile widens, his eyes locked on yours. His hand gently cups your cheek, breaths mingling as he leans in closer, your noses nearly touching.

In that moment, the world narrows to just the two of you. You push up onto your tiptoes, closing the gap between you and pressing your lips to his. The kiss is brief but filled with a depth of feeling that words can’t quite capture.

As you pull back, the world around you settles into a new rhythm and the boundaries of your relationship are redrawn. What were once blurred lines are clearly defined; all is made explicit.

[kwoojii]

hot spring adventures

[steddielations]

nonsexual d/s for sub Eddie week with art here by @ent-is-indecisive

“Eddie, will you please open the door?”

“I ruined it, Steve, I messed everything up.”

“You didn’t ruin anything, baby, let me in, c’mon.”

All the music from the party almost drowns out Steve’s voice, but a small pathetic piece of Eddie clings to it like an anchor. He opens the door and Steve’s brows knit sympathetically at the state of distress Eddie's in. It’s all fucked up.

His leather sleeve is wet and sticky, he can’t stop raking his fingers through his hair, ruining the nice waves Steve styled for him earlier because he was too much of a wreck to do it himself. It’s all fucked up.

“I fucked up.”

Shaking his head, Steve comes inside and shuts the door behind him. “It wasn’t that bad. Could’ve been worse, remember when Robin threw up in the middle of an audition.”

“Steve, at this point they’re gonna pay me not to make an album,” Eddie stresses, pacing around the bathroom. “I spilled wine all over the guy. Dale fucking Grazer wants to talk serious paper and shake my hand and I just emptied my stupid little glass all over him!”

“It was just wine, not puke or something,” Steve says lightly, trying to bring Eddie down from his frantic state. It works, his voice is a tether for Eddie to grab onto. “Come here, let me fix you up.” 

Eddie does as Steve says, not trusting himself to make any more decisions when all he’s done today is fuck up. 

Steve guides him over to the sink, wetting a towel and dabbing Eddie’s jacket. He’s so calm, like this isn’t the most important night in Eddie’s life and it’s not already blown and he can still make that hotshot from the record label like him.

Steve’s acting like everything’s fine, which makes Eddie feel stupid and small like he's overreacting, he tries to let Steve’s energy calm him too but it’s hard.

“You’re overthinking, I can see it on your face,” Steve says, being gentle but not in a coddling way that would make Eddie feel even more stupid.

He straightens out Eddie’s sleeve, good as new, then works on Eddie’s hair next. His fingers are soft and skilled and so sure, knowing exactly how to fix it and how to make Eddie melt under his touch.

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, just trying to let Steve fix everything. He's way better at fancy parties and schmoozing than Eddie is. He always knows how to get Eddie out of his head and that’s what he needs right now. As pathetic as he feels about it, he needs to stop thinking. Let Steve think for him, even.

“Wanna tell me what’s on your mind?” Steve prompts softly and Eddie is helpless but to let it all out.

“I can’t stop saying the wrong shit. Why’d I tell him my dad’s in prison? Or bring up the dropped murder charges, or all that stuff about ket, I just can’t shut up.”

“No, that’s just you, the whole big personality charismatic rockstar thing. Trust me, that guy’s got star eyes for you.”

“This is just like with Paige’s label. I messed that up, and now I’m ruining Jeff’s chance again, and—”

“No you’re not, that guy loves Jeff already, everybody loves Jeff.” 

“You’re right, he’s got this, he doesn’t need me. Let’s just get out of here, make a run for it.”

Eddie barely takes a step before Steve’s hands circle both his wrists, his grip gentle but solid, holding Eddie in place. It flips the same little switch in Eddie as the cuffs they use in the bedroom. It takes away the option to run.

Somewhere in the jumble of his mind, he knows it’s the right choice, trusting that Steve wouldn’t let him make the wrong one.

“We’re not going anywhere, baby, this is your chance too.” Steve rubs up and down Eddie’s arms, guiding him around in front of the mirror. 

It’s hard for Eddie to look at himself right now and see it written all over his face. Steve cleaned the stain and made his hair perfect again but he can’t fix whatever’s making Eddie… Well, Eddie. Whatever it is that made him flunk senior year 3 times, or screw up the first chance he had to make something of himself, or the reason Ronnie won’t pick up his phone calls, or the reason Wayne sleeps with his keys on the bedside table in case he has to come running to Eddie’s rescue like always—

Steve’s fingers lightly cup Eddie’s chin, he’s standing behind Eddie now, his body warmly pressed against him.

“Look here, honey.” Steve gently tips Eddie’s head up to meet his own eyes in the mirror. They’re glistening with unshed tears that almost fall when Steve says soft but sure, “You’re not a fuckup,” and prompts Eddie, “Say it.”

Eddie swallows the lump rising in his throat, “I’m not—” 

He chokes up a little bit and Steve waits patiently. 

“Tell yourself,” Steve whispers, all earnest-eyed in the mirror like all he wants is to make Eddie believe it.

“I’m not a… fuckup,” Eddie gets the words out and a few tears slip free with them.

Steve brushes them away. “You can do this. Say it.”

With a deep breath, Eddie tells himself, “I can do this.”

Steve kisses his temple, gives him a little praise that he admittedly needs so much right now, “You’re gonna be so good.”

Eddie’s mind starts to clear of everything that’s not Steve rocking him slowly in his arms, whispering, “You’re my good boy,” as many times as Eddie needs to hear it. He feels his confidence building back up, getting more comfortable in his skin again with Steve holding him, believing the words Steve made him say in the mirror, believing the words Steve kisses into his neck and loves into his skin. He can do this.

“Aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” 

“Tell me,” Steve prompts and Eddie turns a little, blinking slowly, eyes feeling heavy with the slow dose of bliss Steve gave him.

“I’m your good boy,” Eddie murmurs and he believes it.

When they leave the bathroom later, Steve can’t hold his hand through this, but Eddie still feels him.

He charms the fuck out of those suits from the label. They love Jeff, everybody loves Jeff, and they love Eddie too. The whole band is definitely getting signed, at least that’s what Steve says on the ride home.

Eddie greedily soaks up all the praise and attention, feeling a little spacey with it, Steve's big warm hand on his thigh grounding him. He can't wait for them to get home so he can properly thank Steve.

[hauntingofhouses]

they literally got rid of her eye bags and under-eye dark circles and made her cheeks fuller and more flushed along with her letting her hair down... to show how happy she was on the farm...

[tumblerislovetumblerislife]

a study in scarlet seduction

inspired by the absolutely stunning @idliketobeatree's absolutely stunning fic it's not fair (cause you make me ache, you bastard)! if you ever want to read 3k of poetry in fic form AND charles being a little shit, go check it out!! nearly all the labels are direct quotations, though i did have some fun with edwin cursing charles out with edwardian swear words ;)

[sophiphi]

Guys. GUYS. listen to me- kate carter is a natural brunette. no i’m not just saying that because daisy edgar jones has brown hair naturally, there’s a picture of young kate and her mom that is shown in the scene where she comes back home. I caught it on my second rewatch. I mean ofc you could chalk up her darker roots to it just being a dirty blonde but no, she really is a brunette.

Which brings me to this thought- I wonder what Tyler’s reaction (along with the others ofc) would be when they see Kate with brown hair. Let’s say her blonde dye was growing out enough for her to decide to dye it back. Maybe she does it when she went back to NY for a bit before going back to Oklahoma. Will there be chaos? Definitely. Will Tyler Owens get a heart attack? Duh. Like, imagine the possibilities guys, hellooo

[fiepige]

Miguel and Hobie making their entrances (I love that they both get a slow-motion reaction shot from another spider-person as they enter)

[rainwingmarvel7]

Lord Kaleb Dormaire and his children by Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, Ser Tristan Dormaire and Princess Therese Targaryen

I recently got this wonderful commission of my HoTD OCs from my upcoming fic, Soaring Higher, done by the lovely @murmel-malt, and I’m so incredibly in love with it!❤️

[mayhemspreadingguy]

How did this happen? @cuubism came up with the incredibly enticing idea to put Dream in the black leather pants. Then @magnusbae dutifully passed this brainrot into my brain. Brainstorming this was so so wild :D.

tiredly stretching in the classroom...

also, after I finished this drawing the pose reminded me of that one Flashdance scene (the chair dance with... the water 😳)

how is he able to squat like that in the skintight thick-leather pants? how did he even put those on in the first place? - and no zippers??

who knows, who knows xD

[lucky-draws]

call me daniel molloy the way i find this guy fascinating !!

[zorionbbq]

"The morning lit his bedroom with tepid lilacs. Wherever light could reach, there were bulging cabinet handles, sallow sheets, flattened carpets; where it couldn’t, there was nothing at all. The pale spots of life, surrounded by pitch-black pits and corners, looked like a poorly printed photograph."

fanart for @cleveradjacent's fic "This Weapon Wants"! :^]

[indelibleme]

Chapters: 1/7 

Fandom: Detective Conan                Rating: T

Relationships: Kudou Shinichi/Kuroba Kaito

Summary: Celebrities don’t interest Kudo Shinichi. He comes from a family of celebrities; in fact, he is a minor celebrity himself. But the one living next door seems to get into one too many shenanigans for his peace of mind. Which really wouldn’t be an issue, if the latest one didn’t happen to involve a dead body.

Or, in which Kaito goes from being darling of the entertainment media to scourge of the internet in no time at all, hounded by paparazzi, only to find solace in the utter indifference of his neighbour… until he gets involved in a murder.

...

Finally, here is chapter 1 of my fic for this year’s @kaishinbigbang 2024!!

The art from which this fic was inspired by was made by the wonderful artist @bakathief!! Please check it out HERE! Go show it some love!!

...

(Excerpt under the cut)

...

Kaito tried to protest—

“Hold on, you’ve got this wrong! I didn’t even know he was dead until you told me just now! Hey, hey—stop, it’s not me!”

—but they didn’t deter them at all. Kaito breathed in desperately, panic creeping into his voice as he looked around for help. Murder? Arrested? He didn’t need to know what the percentage of acquittals were in their country to guess the outcome! And for the police to make an arrest, for there to be evidence backing this up—

“Matsuoka-keibu? What’s going on?”

Kaito’s head snapped up at that voice. Turning the curb from where the patrol car was parked, like a beacon of light piercing through stormy clouds, was none other than Kudo Shinichi.

[arthurpendragonsass]

yk there's a lot of talk about the way merlin is practically a god but lives as an unassuming servant, and seeing this surprises druids/other magic users. i wanna see kind of the same thing happen to arthur with the people of his kingdom. we know arthur so intimately, from merlin's pov, but i wanna see him as a living legend. stories of his valor spreading across land, blown out of proportion and missing details. “the prince slayed the great dragon and gifted its head to the king!” “some say the goddess blessed him when he was born, when she took the queen back. how else does one survive an attack by a questing beast?” “he held out his hand and the sword stuck in solid stone flew to him! iwan says meredith’s aunt saw it herself!” “the word has come, king arthur defeated annis’ champion—a giant of a man!” old men discussing arthur’s policies, comparing them with those of previous rulers, and being glad that it's him on the throne “finally, a good fucking king.” people having faith that their ruler is generous and fair and can be approached in times of need, and having the comforting knowledge that he would do his best to help because that's what he did with the other village last year! young boys dreaming to join his army and young girls daydreaming about a fairy tale ending with him (or vice versa, obv). just... arthur of his people.

what I'm saying is i want an outsider pov character study of arthur pendragon king of camelot. hope that helps

[fuwahua]

Costume

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ Tktober Day 21: Costume

Tags: Yelan/Ganyu (romantic), sexual tension (non-explicit but very much there), nudity, pet names, teasing

“Arms up, gorgeous.”

“Eep!”

Yelan smiles as Ganyu cringes away from the measuring tape again, cheeks flushed red from just a few minutes in the same room. It helped, perhaps, that the Qixing’s little secretary was nude but a thin bodysuit clinging to her skin, and Yelan knew all too well how to dance her fingers along supple skin. She waves the tape in the air, reminding them of the task. “You have to stay put for me or the measurements won’t be right, you know?”

“I-I’m sorry, Yelan. I’m just sensitive,” Ganyu says, her face deepening in color as she squirms. The very sight of her is dangerous, doe eyes looking up at her, inviting, so like the way they did just a night ago…

She tweaks Ganyu’s side, chuckling as she quite literally leaps out of her arms, feet jolting upwards as her hair bounces in the air. Her face scrunches up in accusation. “Yelan, please!”

Very well. Yelan rolls back the measuring tape, prepared to get back to actual work, only to still as Ganyu walks back into her sight with a nervous smile. “We’ll be behind schedule if we don’t finish recording the measurements today. Can’t you wait to tic—tease me after we’re done?”

Her face seems to redden at the thought, yet her eyes are earnest. Yelan’s mouth twitches; beneath that innocent glamour is a ravenous appetite, and the invitation to coax it back into her bed is all too tempting.

Still. It wouldn’t be fun if she gave away too much just yet.

“Alright, alright,” Yelan sighs, raising her arms innocently. The tape dangles between pointed fingers as she relents. “Let’s get this done. Don’t want to keep the higher ups waiting—aren’t you lucky, getting a new costume made for Lantern Rite?”

Ganyu nods. “It’s an honor.”

“I’m sure,” she says. Her knuckles rap the small of Ganyu’s back. “Turn around for me, sweetheart.”

And oh, how Ganyu does so gracefully. Her blue hair spills past her shoulders, bare of her usual collar, wide sleeves, and Yelan’s shadow swallows her up easily. The tape comes loose easy, then tight, Ganyu’s breath hitching as Yelan’s finger taps along the shape of her sides. She smiles, slow, fingers tracing invisible patterns on still skin.

“72. You’re doing perfect.”

It’s impossible not to tease at least a little, fingers fluttering along bare skin, when a full course is laid before her. The tape comes with her, interlapping pinches and strokes with numbers and sweet serenades, and if Ganyu lets loose a few stuttered giggles when Yelan lingers too long beneath her arms, wriggling her fingers in that sensitive spot and then dragging them slow along her shoulder blades, well—whose to tell?

Certainly not the scarlet red of Ganyu’s ears.

“60,” Yelan pauses, drawing up a handful of wavy locks and pressing a kiss to it. “Beautiful.”

It’s certainly not unnoticed that every compliment leaves Ganyu redder. Sweet serenades fall from her lips with ease as she draws the tape around ticklish spots once, twice, nudging the sweet points she knows well. Yet even as she teases, as Ganyu’s knees shuffle together when the wandering tape falls lower and her nails skirt the lines of her hips, Ganyu remains resolutely still, ever so careful to let Yelan finish her measurements.

It’s exactly that unwavering dedication to the job that caught Yelan’s gaze from the very first day. She smiles, tender, as she kneels and wraps the tape around Ganyu’s thigh. Down the length of her leg, the width of her knee, her calves, her ankle… though she doesn’t resist clawing Ganyu’s raised sole, meant to measure the length of her food, and Ganyu’s leg wobbles on a squeak.

“Yelan! Please!”

Speak of perfect timing. Yelan grins, dropping the tape entirely.

“Oh, didn’t I say? That was the last one—we’re done.” Ganyu shrieks as she’s pulled back, dissolving into laughter as hands dance back up her body. Oh, she’s going to enjoy this immensely; judging from the pink tint to Ganyu’s cheeks, she’s not the only one. Yelan purrs.

“Didn’t you say I could tic—tease you all I’d like now? It’s time to make good on your promises, gorgeous.”

[isca-rambles]

from jennadewan on tiktok 🙏 oh we are definitely getting some kind of big party. Valentine's Gala? Henry's wedding? Wopez wedding redo/vow renewal?