#aren’t they so romantic

[spiraling-trap]

more soul eater au (who is surprised)

light and L experiment with the black blood in light’s body until they spiral and end up merging bodies completely (like ragnarok/crona). they’re crazy and trying to become a kishin. these are doodles of that

[moonshere]

I’ll be honest I get soooo giddy whenever an ISAT fanwork depicts that the Mirabelle/Siffrin relationship is equally as important as the Isabeau/Siffrin one. Like, it’s not just the romantic relationship that is The Most Important thing narratively+literally, but the platonic one is equally as important too!

[dammarchy211]

Per the description of the heartless perk “robots are now confused by you”

Also chapters 2 and 3 are out for that post game fic I’m writing 👍👍

[ambeauty]

You can show me 5011 different ways of Carmy caressing Claire’s face, blowing kisses, telling her she’s beautiful, kissing her nose, and nothing will ever be as romantic as Carmy literally driving himself to his wits end over the course of a season to get Sydney a star, that only she wanted in the first place, in order to prove that he is the person she needs him to be.

[puppyaulait]

I just realized I haven’t post my Kazubo comic I made a few years ago. You need to understand how much they mean to me.

[steddieas-shegoes]

cw: mentions of scarring, canon-typical violence, flashback (not graphic), minor body horror (again, not graphic, mostly just emotional feelings about scars)

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

Everyone gave him weird looks when they walked in, quickly schooling their features when they noticed he was awake and watching them.

He didn’t know exactly what that was about.

They had him on a lot of good drugs.

But eventually he got weaned off them, and he noticed the pull of bandages on his side, and his arm, and his neck, and his face.

He was still unable to get out of bed. Still couldn’t even reach his arms above his chest for more than a few seconds.

But he damn sure reached up to feel the cloth and plastic surrounding his cheek. How had he not noticed for days? How had no one bothered him about it?

Maybe they had and he just didn’t notice. The morphine was one hell of a drug.

Wayne was soft, patient with him. Saw him touching it, saw the way his eyes filled with tears. He’d never been particularly vain, hadn’t cared much about what he looked like to others, but this felt bigger than that. This felt like he was changed in a way that everyone could see.

Add it to the list of things people could bully him for.

He cried himself to sleep, Wayne’s hand in his, silently comforting in the way he’d always done.

When he woke up again the next morning, he was alone.

It was the first time he’d been alone since the boathouse.

He could swear he heard bats outside his door, screams coming from the attached bathroom, flashes of someone dying on the ceiling.

He felt the sharp sting of teeth puncturing his skin.

He felt hopelessness creep into his bones as he gave in.

Maybe this time they would finish the job.

“Eddie!”

Steve Harrington’s voice broke through the thoughts, panicked enough to bring Eddie back to his hospital bed within a second of hearing it.

“Shit, are you okay?” He continued, hand brushing against Eddie’s bandaged cheek.

Eddie nodded once, closed his eyes, leaned into the touch.

He could blame it on any number of things if Steve felt weird about it. The morphine, the flashback, the loneliness.

“You’re okay, Eddie. I promise. Won’t let anything happen to you,” Steve whispered.

Eddie believed him.

He fell back asleep with Steve’s hand gently cupping the mangled side of his face.

If Steve could still touch him there, then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

Steve came by every day, sometimes in the early morning, before visiting hours officially started, sometimes well after Wayne had left to get some sleep. He always smiled when he walked in, a genuine one, not the one everyone else gave that was so fully of pity and pain he couldn’t bear to make eye contact. He sat down on the side of the bed, not the chair like everyone else, not scared to be close.

And every single day, without fail, he would run his finger along the edge of Eddie’s bandage on his face, watching his own movements and cataloging any changes.

Eddie sat quietly, still, scared to put words to anything happening. Scared to tell Steve what it meant to him to have someone acknowledge his pain in this way. Scared to think Steve could mean anything by it.

It was easy to pretend Steve was doing this because he cared.

Maybe he did care.

But he didn’t care the way Eddie wanted him to, needed him to.

So he stayed quiet, still.

He watched.

He fell asleep while Steve talked about his day, the kids, what Joyce made Hopper do around the house.

He woke up alone most days, but that was okay, because Steve would be there eventually.

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

“You ready to get that thing off?” Wayne asked, gesturing to the bandage.

“Oh. Today?” Eddie suddenly didn’t want to ever be without the bandage. Removing it meant he’d see what was under it.

It meant seeing how much that place had ruined him.

The pull of the stitches hadn’t been as obvious with the pull of the bandage masking it.

But now it’s all he felt.

The nurse smiled at him as she put some antibiotic cream over the area, saying he would probably still have to keep it extra clean for the next week or so while the stitches did their job.

Wayne smiled at him in the way that meant he didn’t really want to smile at all, but knew Eddie needed him to.

Steve didn’t come.

Eddie didn’t sleep.

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

He woke up with panic in his chest and a silent scream in his throat.

He woke up with Steve’s hand on his face.

Gentle, soft, but a strong comfort.

“Promise I washed them first. They said we have to be careful about germs,” Steve said quietly.

“You don’t have to. I know it’s…it’s gross. It’s ugly. I’m ugly.”

Steve shook his head. “No. Not gross. Not ugly. Alive.”

“Steve-“

“You’re alive, Eddie. You could have your entire face held together by staples and you would still be a miracle. You’d still be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Well, Steve’s charm wasn’t an exaggeration, was it?

He wasn’t even sure if the skin barely pulled together could blush anymore, or if the heat that should be on his cheek was burning on the outside the way it felt like it was on the inside.

“It’s gonna be awful when it heals. I saw it in the mirror.” Eddie could feel every stitch in his jaw, the few that spread across the corner of his mouth and bottom lip, the ones that were nearly up to his ear. “I’ll always have a crooked face. The scar will always be huge. It’s all anyone will see.”

“Then they aren’t looking.”

Eddie bit his lip, eyes searching Steve’s. “But you are.”

“No. I’m seeing. There’s a difference. I see you. I see what you’ve survived. I see the mark it left on you. I know it wasn’t just the scars that cover your skin.” Steve leaned his head down, touching Eddie’s forehead with his own. “We all have them. And we’re all still here. Your heart’s beating. That’s all that matters to me.”

“Who knew you were so good with words?” Eddie smiled sadly.

“Robin says I’m just good at not having a filter.”

“She’s right as always.” Eddie wrapped his fingers around Steve’s wrist, turning as slowly as he could to kiss his palm. “You’re not scared of it.”

“No. Are you?”

“I’m scared that you’ll change your mind when it’s always there as a reminder of what happened.”

Steve kissed his nose, making him smile for the first time in what felt like years.

“I’ll have the reminder that I got you out of there. That no matter what, the bats couldn’t finish the job. That you were stronger and you made it.” Steve let his hand drop, but quickly laced his fingers with Eddie’s. “I know it’s a lot to ask of you to trust me, but will you? For today?”

“Just today?”

“I’ll ask again tomorrow.”

“And what? Every day after that?”

Steve smirked.

His eyes were glistening with tears, but Eddie could tell it wasn’t sadness or fear.

“If that’s what I have to do.”

They hadn’t even talked about feelings, not really. Nothing that made any sense to Eddie, nothing that they could define. A part of Eddie was still convinced he was in a coma and dreaming this entire conversation up.

But even the nurse had noticed the way Steve watched him, how he touched him, how he fought for him. She said he’d been a firecracker from the moment he carried him into the hospital, dripping blood on the tile, staining the halls with his demands for help.

Wayne said he barely left his side the first day, only doing so when the doctors had told him they would call the cops if he didn’t.

Erica even noticed how things had changed between them, stating that she refused to watch her babysitter and the only DM she had respect for make out.

But Steve held Eddie, made him feel like he could get out of the hospital bed and live a life that wouldn’t keep him running. Steve was there.

Steve might even love him. If not now, then some day.

And Eddie could trust him today.

He could probably trust him tomorrow.

“Kiss me?” Eddie probably shouldn’t. The stitches tugged when he talked, and another mouth anywhere near his wounds was just asking for an infection.

But Steve would be careful. He knew what Eddie could handle.

It was barely a kiss. A graze of the lips at most.

But it was the best kiss Eddie had ever had.

At least until tomorrow.

[solsays]

I find it hilarious how much the QSMP Brazilians love gay roleplay, every canon romantic relationship currently developing on this server (where both parties have logged in consistently, looking at you fooligetta) has a Brazilian. What is wrong with them /pos

[heartless-aro]

Instead of celebrating things that include the aromantic, asexual, and aroace flags/communities as “including the whole set,” we need to start asking why alloaros and non-SAM aros are not explicitly included where aroaces are.

[coffeeisfortheresponsible]

do any other aromantics/asexuals find that there’s a very fine line between:

trying to not let the labels youve given yourself prevent you from exploring the idea of a relationship and doing what works for you

and

convincing yourself you want conventional romance because it’s what society conditioned you to believe is necessary for happiness and ultimately going along with things you aren’t comfortable with believing it will make you happy in the end because it does for everyone else

[marlsswrites]

Starry curls and fiery hair

Ice skating AU, part 7!!

August 7th - words: 466

First part Previous part

Still with a teasing Dorcas trailing behind him, Regulus unlocked the door to his shared house and sighed when he saw the living room was very full. Plus Dorcas wasn’t good at keeping her mouth shut.

“So,” She started, suspiciously smirking as she flopped next to their confused looking friends on the couch.

“Dorcas.” He whined, dragging out the s with a hissing sound as he dropped his head into Pandoras lap.

“What happened?” The twins spoke, exactly at the same time as they looked at each other and burst out laughing.

With an eyebrow wiggle, Dorcas sat herself up on the couch and simply just grinned. “Regulus, you said you’d tell me more if I kept quiet on the ride home.”

“In my defence that was only to shut you up.”

A groan.

“What? I planned on getting home, reading, and going to sleep.”

“Oh come on Reggie, talk to us.” Barty stuck his feet in the air and attempted to poke a now even more grumpy Regulus in the face.

He raised his hands in surrender after a minute or two of his friends yelling and attempting to tackle him on the sofa.

In all honesty, he really didn’t think it was worth it. James was cute, yes. He was sweet, the embodiment of the sun, so so gorgeous, caring- really no one had ever made Regulus feel the way he felt when he saw those eyes staring innocently into his heart. The yes that plunged deep into his chest and brushed against his heart, they were so close, but so out of reach. The feeling seemed to grip him harder when he saw that red haired girl, her arm on is, a sweet smile on her face and pretty freckles decorating his nose.

Pale skin and freckles. Regulus has that, but he guessed it wasn’t good enough - he wasn’t a girl.

Her hair is burning and orange, like a sharp, hot fire. His hair is dark black and shiny and looked like the night sky full with stars when the light hit him just right, it’s soft and curled - and James would know that if he would just reach out.

Reach out, touch it. Run his hands through it, all over him for all he cares. Just please.

“He’s my coaches son, and actually Sirius’ best friend.” He shrugged. “I don’t know- he just latched onto me.”

“That’s so cute.” Pandora cooed.

“Besides, he’s got a girlfriend - I think. It doesn’t matter.”

“You think?” Barty questioned.

Regulus just nodded, chewing slightly on the pink skin of his lips.

Snap the fuck out of it, it only ends in heartbreak. He wanted to scream to himself, protected by the thick walls of his head - that way not a soul could hear him. Just stop.

Next part

[mrs-nubenueve]

it’s so fun reading bkak fics from like. before we find out the extent of their history. (tbf there is not toooo many but i have noticed the following, like, twice). bc akaashi’s characterization tends to be very—like, no-nonsense. “mean”-ish. and that’s not to say these characteristics aren’t part of his character etc., but that characterization is just largely not nuanced by his own brand of weirdness. by all the little details we eventually come to learn about him. anyways. that early assumed characterization feeds into that of an exemplary serious-straight-a kid. and i always wonder, what did these authors think when they found out that akaashi choose to follow bokuto to fukurodani ?? that he sees bokuto, not as a chore, but as a star—something shining, out of this world, out of reach ??? (and the implications of all that !!!) like who saw that coming actually ??

[can-i-get-a-yippee]

If I see one more take about how Eddie doesn’t deserve Buck bc he has trauma, I’m gonna lose my mind.

Isn’t love to see all the worst parts of someone and love them anyway? To sit beside them at their lowest point and give whatever comfort you can, knowing that they would do the same? Isn’t love to acknowledge the good and the bad that makes up each person and accept it wholeheartedly because love isn’t just the good parts?

And healing isn’t linear. It never has been.

Do you give up on someone because they relapse or regress? Do you throw away your relationship and your emotions because they’re no longer the perfectly healed partner you expected?

Like, people can dislike Buddie. I don’t care, but this narrative that you have to be worthy of someone’s love annoys me to no end bc the beauty of love is it’s not supposed to be expected or deserved — when you truly love someone it’s given without conditions.

[keeweescribbles]

Guys the X Files is so good I love these sillies so much

[ectoplasmer]

imagine cuddling up with your f/o in bed during a thunderstorm… arms curled around each other, legs intertwined, head resting against chest while it rumbles and pours outside. getting to listen to the sound of their deep, calm breathing with the patter of rain against the window, seeing their features whenever the room is lit up by the flash of lightning… maybe their arms tighten around you whenever there’s a clap of thunder, maybe they make some sort of sound or they snuggle closer to you… just imagine being all warm and cozy with them during a storm, safe and comfy in their embrace <3

[tristansfreezingtheirbrain]

So you know how like- when you tell someone to watch a show with you but just conveniently leave out that it’s a tragedy? Right well, I did it again. You can guess the show ( notice how I didn’t say podcast? Yes it’s Merlin again. ).

Anyways my freind just finished it and is very upset with me because the way I described the show made it feel like a funny hahha romantic comedy and it obviously wasn’t. Not canonically anyway.

But once she was over that- she was much more mad that she only really saw merlin wear a dress in one or two episodes over 5 seasons. ( I may or may not have told her our good friend Merlin was an cross dresser. Which technically wasn’t a lie. )

But then she remembered oh yeah, the plot. And the ending. The heartbreak I didn’t warn her for.

So she’s not as mad about it now.

She’s still mad about the other stuff tho

[lady-green-sleeves]

If Alicent had slept with Viserys the night of Aemma’s funeral like Rhaenyra and Daemon did the night of Laena’s funeral you all would be calling her so much worse than Alicunt and going on and on about how awful and gross and evil she is even more than you already do. But when Rhaenyra does it she’s a girl boss and you’re cheering her on bc somehow that makes her a feminist…..🤡