#but it just came to me and it hurt

[buckley-diassz]

Too much in my Buddie feels today and listening to “Secret Love Song” by Little Mix (specifically the one with Jason Derulo) and just had this heartbreaking AU pop into my head where Buddie are partners for a dance competition, this is their song and it’s a little too telling on the dance floor and a little too telling to the world when they’re dancing and yeah I’m just yeah-

[corpsentry]

pick your battles

[hollis-art]

is this anything

[turtleblogatlast]

Mentioned this before but as much as I adore the medic Leo headcanon, my favorite type of it is when it’s basically just Leo knowing the most surface level of stuff and carrying around a super basic first-aid kit in his pack. So he knows how to use gauze, and he’s got a ton of Jupiter Jim branded bandaids, and if you really needed it then he can hit you up with some ibuprofen but other than that? Nothing.

But. I love the idea that that changes post-invasion.

They’re pretty sturdy, all of them, so they can take more than one beating and really only need a bandaid for the fun of it. But the invasion hit harder than ice packs and “lots of rest” would help with, and I can bet that a post being beaten to a pulp Leo would have a lot of time on his hands to reflect and, maybe, learn a thing or two as he waits to get better.

It’s nothing excessive, not at first, but he watches veterinary videos, and live surgeries, and other videos in that same realm (because the books are, uh, a bit too jargon-y for him) multiple times over. Just so he knows. Just in case he needs to know.

In his pack, there’s a first-aid kit. With the use of a mini portal for extra space, the kit has grown to include everything from scalpels to butterfly stitches to sutures to even fiberglass patches.

And obviously the Jupiter Jim brand bandaids stay too.

[catharusustulatus]

Steddie Drabble, TW: child abuse.

Initially, Wayne doesn’t care for Steve. Calls him “the Harrington boy” or “Richard’s son” with contempt, asks if “Richard’s son” is coming over for dinner again and Eddie just rolls his eyes and says “yes, Wayne, STEVE is coming over at 7.” Wayne doesn’t like him because…well, he’s not stupid to judge a book by its cover, he thinks.

But the fifth time Harrington comes over, he brings a bouquet of flowers, and Eddie, well, his cheeks are redder than the spaghetti sauce Wayne’s been stirring, so that’s something.

And then the sixth time Steve comes over, he brings Wayne a Garfield magnet. It’s small, “found it at the thrifty mart with Robin, I’m sorry it’s not brand new…” Steve mumbles, and Eddie is wide eyed and smiling, and Wayne LOVES Garfield. He puts it on the fridge, pats Steve on the back, says “um, thank you son.”

They fall into a pattern, the three of them. Steve comes over for dinner every Friday night after work. He dresses clean and is polite to Wayne, helps with the dishes, sometimes brings bread rolls or licorice or beer or jokes. Eddie starts setting the table. Wayne starts laughing at the jokes. After Steve leaves, Wayne knows Eddie smiles himself to sleep. It’s different, now.

And then the next time Steve is supposed to come over for dinner, he doesn’t show. Eddie had been making macaroni and cheese all evening, grating the cheese carefully as he bopped his head to some metal song, cheerful, and then it was 7 and then it was 8 and then Wayne thought “maybe call him, Ed.”

Nobody answers. When they call again, nobody answers. And Wayne has a bad feeling about it.

It isn’t until almost 11, dinner cold and Eddie pacing, about to radio someone named Robin when Steve’s car pulls up, they know the lights so well. They run outside to greet him and Eddie freezes when Steve starts falling out of the drivers seat, face dark and pained. Wayne jumps into action. Wayne catches Steve and hauls him into the trailer, his living room, and oh god, he’s covered in bruises like he was put through Eddie’s cheese grater, and oh god, Eddie’s broken out into tears behind him.

Steve’s left eye is swollen shut, and his face is purple and bloody. His lip is split and his hair is wild, his shirt is torn, and Wayne wonders what’s underneath the shirt as he gets the first aid kit, wonders how the hell he thought Steven was anything other than an angel.

Eddie gets a dish towel wet in the kitchen and cleans Steve’s face, quiet and crying, and Wayne sets the first aid kit down next to Eddie and makes some coffee. He thinks about talking, doesn’t. Touches the Garfield magnet for good luck. He feels like maybe Steve needs it.

Steve who is holding Eddie’s wrist as he cleans him up, wincing and crying from his good eye. Finally, after a silence that gives Wayne heartburn, Eddie sits back on his heels and says whisper quiet, “your dad?”

Steve gulps, blinks. “My uh, my dad. I was writing you uh, uh a love note.” Eddie looks over at Wayne. Wayne wipes his brow. “But uh, he found it, and your name’s not uh, Edith” Steve lets out a chuff, winces again. “So he asked what was going on, and I told him. I told him. And then he said I had one minute to take it back or he’d make me take it back.” Eddie lets out a small gasp, more like a howl, and sits completely on the floor. Wayne sits down at the table, cold mac and cheese looking like a sick joke. And he’s so mad. Wayne is so, so mad, seeing this young man who so obviously loves his pride and joy, shares in his pride and joy, who brings him apples to make apple pie, he growls out

“Don’t you worry about a thing, Steven, not one thing. You stay here long as you like, hell, don’t leave. We got you, boy.”

And that’s that. Steve crumples in on himself, and Eddie pulls him into a big hug, just holds him, rocks him, coos “a love note, huh, sweetheart? For me?” And Steve nods until he nods off.

The next morning, while Robin takes care of Steve, Wayne and Eddie break into Steve’s room, clear out everything he owns, and slash his dad’s tires. That was Wayne’s idea - the least he could do for a loved one.

[beastlyidiocy]

[sergle]

I know that animation in big blockbuster films is like not ever supposed to look good anymore and whatever, like it's almost intentionally bad, but from an artistic standpoint, can you imagine how hard it would have slayed if they made the minecraft movie purely with pixel animation?

[ymechi]

Who is the real Creator?

-TW: cult, yandere, impostor au, mentions of hunt

-Gn reader and darling (please tell me if I mess this up message me and I will fix it)

plot idea (This was inspired by another post but i can't find it ToT):

Reader is friends with Darling. Sometimes Reader helps Darling with dailies, grinding and building the characters.

Somehow reader ends up in Genshin Impact but it's in Darlings world.

Reader is mistaken as an entity that is trying to take over and harm Darling as they have been controlled by Reader before and do not like it.

The Reader is hunted down and shunned it all comes to a stop once Darling descends and stops the hunt. Misunderstandings are cleared and Reader is finally safe from the crazy Acolytes.

All should be fine now except it was the Reader who created Darling's account and gave it to them.

This is part 1, Part 2, part 3, part 4

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Reader wiped the sweat on their forehead with the sleeve of their robe. The Sumeru weather was rather hot this midday as the sun was at its peak. With nothing better to do Reader decided to dust off the front of their house.

It was more akin to the size of a cabin and rather isolated yet Reader loved it as it gave them the privacy and security of four sturdy walls. A place entirely of their own *they could control* and it was far enough they did not have to suffer the company of people.

Reader was rather thankful for the Dendro archon to gift them this place.

After what they have been through it was more than deserved, no?

They did not really know what to think of Nahida. On one hand, she had not tried to kill them or hurt them, she was one of the few people who did listen to their side. On the other hand, she was an archon and Reader's experience with the other was not. . . They had no words to describe it. It was plainly a negative horrible experience that still haunted Reader as they slept at night. Their only solace was that the mess of the events that happened months ago was over and that they were a Free person once again.

It does not help that occasionally the archon would give them an intense blank stare that did not suit her young face. Whenever she stared at them like that Reader wanted to bolt through the nearest exit but the stare was gone as quickly as it came.

Reader continued to dust off the porch collecting the dust and dead leaves on a pile they had left the dustpan inside of the house. Just when they were about to head inside to grab it they saw two familiar figures. There was no doubt that the floating figure and golden hair belonged to the Traveler and Paimon, the latter already giving a wave.

Reader gave a small smile and returned the wave.

"Reader! Long time no see how have you been?" said Paimon.

"Hi Traveller, Hi Paimon sorry you had to come and see this mess, I have been fine hopefully you guys kept out of trouble?"

Paimon answered with a sheepish smile.

The Traveler greeted them and Reader ushered both of them inside the house towards the kitchen and made them sit while they prepared some tea.

"It looks like you settled in nicely Paimon is happy for you Reader."

"Thank you Paimon, yeah it's been really nice here."

Reader put the kettle on the stove and almost forgot how to be a proper host.

"Oh right, I have some leftover cookies! Let me grab that."

"You don't have to overexert yourself Reader," said the Traveler with a gentle smile.

"No- no it's fine I was trying a recipe the other day and I made too much, you guys have to eat it all by the way or else it's rude"

"Well, then we would be bad guests if we don't eat right traveler?"

The traveler did not reply and gave his floating companion a deadpan expression. It was rather amusing to see how to see in real life rather than the game - this is not a game anymore stop that.

Eventually they bought over the cookies and poured the tea. Reader was rather proud of themselves for once. Paimon did not hesitate to dig in and they were rather delighted that their cookies were being enjoyed. The Traveler sipped his tea calmly. Reader smiled and blew on the hot tea before also drinking it.

"I see you have been reading about the history of this world?"

"Yeah it gets rather boring just cleaning here, the Dendro Archon dropped by and gave me some books, she's smart since I don't really know much about this world."

"Yeah! Despite looking so young Nahida is really perceptive and wise, Paimon is kind of jealous."

Aether looked at his companion with a playful look and Reader knew he was about to tease his companion. They tried to hide a smile behind the teacup as they took a sip.

"Ohh! Paimon almost forgot! Darling asked us to deliver a letter!"

Reader's smile tensed a little. Aether's previous playful look was gone and he looked at them with concern. Reader held the teacup more harshly than necessary. It was fine they did not need to be babied. They gave Aether what they hoped was a reassuring smile.

Reader was still confused about how to behave around Darling. That person was their best friend, they had been friends since before Reader could remember and all the way to adulthood sharing an apartment. Yet knowing that the person you trusted the most was behind your suffering, even indirectly? It hurt like shit. Reader could not even meet Darling properly since one of their cursed "acolyte" or whatever the hell they called themselves always trailed behind Darling and Reader refused to be near any of those acolytes who actively tried to kill them before. So both were at an awkward standstill.

Isn't it supposed to be bros before hoes? What the hell Darling.

Paimon gave them the letter and Reader tried to thank them without sounding off.

Looking at the letter Reader wanted to scoff, what were they a 1800s paramour?

They looked at Aether they did not want to be rude and read the letter while they were in a conversation. Reader thought it would be the equivalent of reading chat messages while in front of friends, which was impolite. Aether gave them a smile and a nod, and Reader felt a bit at ease.

They opened the letter.

Huh.

They were a little taken aback by how normal this letter was. Reader looked up and Paimon was looking at them rather curiously but tried to hide it by staring at her tea.

"Darling says they are a bit overwhelmed being the creator and all otherwise they are fine it seems."

"Ohh Paimon would bet it would be super stressful taking the position of the creator like that, Alhaitham was so busy as acting grand sage," she brings a hand to her head mimicking it as if it was heavy, "Paimon imagines there is a lot of paperwork."

Reader laughs, it was nice to hear Paimon light-hearted take.

"Yeah Darling mentions that."

Reader does not mention the worries of their friend(?) in the letter or their stress that is something private between them. Things change yet Darling still confides in them Reader is not sure how to feel about that as they sip their tea.

The rest of the day goes smoothly as they all converse about Paimon and the Traveller's adventures in the newest nation, soon it was time to say goodbye and Reader did it with a smile.

.

.

.

"Come on where did I put it?"

Reader said in a frustrated tone as they barrage through the books on their shelves. They know they had the book somewhere for the class. The professor on that topic was someone who always made snide comments on the failure of students and whatnot and Reader did not want to have to deal with that.

"I hope I did not come at the wrong time?"

"Lord Kusanali! I did not see you there, sorry for the mess."

It felt like deja vu when the Reader said that, remembering the time the Traveler came to visit them.

Nahida smiled and shook her head. From the open door they could see Wanderer standing outside. He looked a bit grumpy then again he usually always looked grumpy, a shame for someone with such a beautiful face.

"Please call me Nahida Reader I like to think we know each other well enough now."

Reader gave Nahida a sheepish smile and wrung their hands together it was a nervous tic.

"Sorry everyone calls you that or well Dendro Archon I did not want to disrespect you I sort of owe you a lot"

"No it is we who owe you a debt -," She looked rather sad, and seeing Reader's expression she changed topic rather quickly, "I came to talk about your recent activities I am very happy to see you being more active and joining classes."

"Ohh, Thank you," Reader paused a bit before answering, "I used to be a student. . . before I came here so it's nice having something familiar."

Nahida looked at Reader with a beam and they continued to talk about the classes Reader took and whatever they taught about officially joining a darshan. As Reader turned around briefly they missed the glossy and contemplative look the Archon gave them.

They finally found their book and with the Archon (and Wanderer) in tow headed towards the Akademiya. Turns out they did not need to find the book the moment the professor saw the tiny Archon he went pale faced and Reader had to hide a smile. Wanderer was not so subtle as he loudly snickered.

.

.

.

It's been so long I hope you are doing okay I do miss you. . .

Reader folded the letter and looked out the window. The night skies here were clear no city lights and pollution that distorted the view. The stars shined without care, Reader felt a sudden chill and headed towards bed covering themselves in the blankets. They still looked out towards the sky.

"Miss. . . I guess I do miss you."

.

.

.

After everything was said and done Reader laid in the bed alone in the infirmary. There was a nurse and a doctor and whenever they came Reader would shake like a flame about to be put out easily by a gust of wind. They could not handle human interaction anymore. Once Darling came they were alone. Darling had cried and Reader had cried before an acolyte Came over and Reader looked at Darling horrified.

Why was Darling with those psychopaths did they not know what they were capable of? They might hurt Darling she needed to get away-

Reader must have gone into hysterics because soon the nurse came and injected them with something.

It was later told to them by the Dendro Archon herself in person that Darling was the creator. The cause of the hunt was because of Darling their childhood best friend.

Reader hugged themself.

Reader asked if they could speak to Darling but the Dendro Archon said the acolytes would have to follow them, they did not trust Reader in this condition.

As if they were not the psychopath who tried to kill an innocent person Reader thought.

Reader did not want to meet Darling if it meant having to meet the acolytes.

Reader was so so tired and just wanted to sleep.

.

.

.

Sumeru's climate was rather weird to Reader who never lived in a tropical climate before. It seemed to rain and while hot at the same time. Reader who grew up in the north much like Snezhnaya's climate was confused as it only rained in the cold autumns rarely do you get rain in summer but they adapted quickly.

Yet something felt off this particular day, they tried to distract themselves by doing dishes. Outside the rain was still going on but Reader noticed how eerily quiet there was no rustling of the winds or a single bird finding shelter in the trees. They quickly wiped their hands and strode towards their desk.

Reading was always a good distraction nothing beat reading while it rained, they remembered how they would sometimes turn on a raining asmr video as they read fanfics. The silly memory brought a smile to their face. But just as they saw down they heard a loud knock. Reader jumped up from their seat.

Their chest felt heavy. Unless it was Nahida, the Traveller or the Wanderer who in the early days delivered groceries to them, no one came to visit them they doubted it was a robber why bother knocking then? Maybe it was someone lost or seeking shelter from the rain both options sucked they did not want to entertain people yet, they wrung their hands together. When someone was in need they could not look away anymore.

They ran towards one of the dressers and bought a spare towel and scurried for the entrance door. With hurried and clumsy motions they opened the door and there-

Was Darling.

Darling looked. . . distraught, they were a mess from the last time they saw each other. Gone was the intricately styled hair and neat robes instead their hair was a mess and their clothes wrinkled. Even their face looked pale and it looked like Darling had not slept in days. Most notable was the lack of acolyte trailing after them, Reader almost expected to hear Zhongli's "I will have order!" followed by a meteorite striking Reader down and their cabin.

"You- Wait are you alright what is going on? Why are you alone? Did something happen?"

Darling still looked distraught and everything seemed really wrong, perhaps they should have been calmer when they asked their questions they did not need two people who were on the verge of panic.

"R-reader I-I," they paused before breathing in, "I bleed red," they said as if that single revelation could destroy them.

"Huh?" Reader replied dumbfounded

[alienssstufff]

mini etho-related doodles for the final chapter of You Could've Applied Online that dropped today (good ending: REAL, FREE at shade-e-es glass factory emporium) (+unreal boatboys final goodbye sequence)... gonna miss it ;w;

this one courtesy quote by chloe

and unrelated DO2 etho doodle frum yesterday (idk what to do with this atm)

[lavenoon]

Sometimes you try to prank-scare the new hire and eat dirt instead, but you made them laugh so all is well <3

[stevebabey]

ok brain whipped up this concept & would NOT leave it alone today so here. have this. this is like ‘started making it. had a breakdown. bon appétit’ in a steddie post for me but alas <3 cw: talks of past sexual coercion

Eddie is mad at Steve.

Which, honestly, might be the worst thing in the entire damn world for all Steve cares. The whole world feels just a little bit off kilter when Eddie’s mad at Steve — because Eddie just loooves the silent treatment.

He’ll usually make a show of it. Pout and stick out his bottom lip, cross his arms, maybe even give a stamp on his big booted feet. Doesn’t say what’s wrong, just glares sulkily. It’s a bit childish, they both know, but Eddie likes to be doted and Steve loves to do the doting — and it hasn’t caused any proper fights yet.

This time, however, he can tell Eddie is more mad than usual, because this time he hadn’t thrown the usual fuss. Instead, he’d just gone quiet. All glowers and glares. Not even a pout, and certainly not a peep.  

And it’s just the worst because the version of Eddie that Steve knows best is a chatterbox. Can’t shut up, won’t shut up. Steve normally loves it.

And alright— maybe Steve deserved it for not picking him up after one of Eddie’s gigs. Especially because Eddie had specifically asked him too as well, considering his own van was in the shop.

But it’s not like Steve could control when his parents decided to waltz back into Hawkins!

They always seemed to run on their own timetable, or on what seemed like an entirely different orbit. Yet, they had no trouble roping Steve back into their routine, stuffing him back into a place, without any regard to his opinion on the matter. Which was exactly what they had done that evening.

But that didn’t really matter, Steve thinks with a sigh, because he knows it’s not really just because he didn’t pick Eddie up. It was because of what Steve said.

Gareth’s mom had swung by and while Eddie had gotten an eyeful of that suspicious look that followed him everywhere since the events of the Upside Down, Eddie had gotten home safely. Majorly annoyed but safe which was what mattered most.

He had then released his said-annoyance onto Steve.

But see, Steve was already tired from the prodding and lecturing of his parents. They’d been awfully disappointed to find he had yet to move on from his job at Family Video and worse, had badmouthed his choice of friends. Had brought up Tommy and the likes, asked pointedly why Steve hadn’t been seen with them in a few months.

Steve had bit his tongue to not spew out the fact he hadn’t been seen with Tommy for years and that was unlikely to change any time soon.

So, yeah, he was wound up. And Eddie was too. A bit too impatient, a bit too cut that he’d been on the receiving end of yet another scathing interaction because Steve had been so careless to forget to pick him up.

He’d said as much, jabbing a finger and dramatically reenacting the tense conversation he’d had to have with Gareth’s mother.

It had led to a spat, which led to an argument. Steve sat on the bed in Eddie’s trailer and toyed with a loose thread as Eddie pacing before him.

“You should’ve been there.”

“I know.” Steve ground out the words, eyes on the floor, feeling too much like he was still back home, still being lectured by his father about his good-for-nothing son. The thread was coming looser in his fingers with all his fiddling.

“You know? Is that all you’re gonna say?” Eddie asked, exasperated, but the moment Steve’s lip part to respond, Eddie had steamrolled on. Gareth’s awkward smile and his mother’s tight bunched up shoulders were still fresh in his memory.

“Great! That’s just fantastic, Steve. You knew and you still didn’t show up!”

Steve’s head shot up, brow furrowed. “That’s not what I meant.”

Like a kettle coming to boil, Steve could feel some bitchy comment lurch up his throat with his growing frustration. It was easy to think of things to say to hurt Eddie, to lash out, to make it so Eddie was the one with his head bowed, voice quiet.

Steve had learned that the hard part in these moments, is biting his tongue. Swallowing back mean comments. He doesn’t want to be vicious. Loathes the idea of falling back on snarky comments to win a fight, least of all with his boyfriend.

But... old habits die hard.

So, when Eddie had got all up in his face, firing himself up, and said, “Oh, pray tell then Steve what was so important that made you fucking forget your boyfriend.”

Steve had snapped.

“Fuck, do you ever stop? You are so much sometimes!”

The words had flown out in a harsh sneer and they hit their mark exactly as intended.

Because Steve knew all about that strange bubble of fear that lives inside Eddie— the part that didn’t care at all what strangers thought of him, but cared so much about those he came to trust. The part that worried that being big and brash all the time would be too much for people. That the reason they originally liked Eddie, would become the same reason they’d eventually dislike him for.

Steve had once told him he couldn’t ever get enough of him— let alone too much. It’s why he’d known where to strike.

Eddie’s expression has flinched, his eyes going from simmering to hurt in a few seconds flat. His fists unclenched at his side and Steve had felt the regret curdling up in his gut, a terrible sour feeling that had him shooting to his feet in an instant.

“Eddie, wait, I—”

“Leave.” Eddie said, voice dangerously low. There wasn’t room to push it. Nothing left to argue.

But still, Steve had wavered, swaying as a tidal wave of shame burned hot up his neck. He wanted to fix it. He needed to fix this.

But Eddie couldn’t look at him, eyes fixed on the ground and despite how much it had pained Steve to go, he knew he couldn’t fix it, not then and there. The door had hit him on the way out.

That had been two whole days ago. The guilt of it makes it feel like it was hours ago, still fresh as ever.

Steve had been diligent in giving Eddie his space to cool off.

The call Steve made the morning after never got picked up, just rang endlessly until the voicemail kicked in. Even though Eddie was always home Wednesdays. It told Steve well enough that Eddie was still well and truly mad.

Which was fair enough. Steve had been an asshole. Let himself fall back on old habits and stab a weak spot he only knew because Eddie trusted him, then twisted the knife as well.

But it’s like he said — silent treatment from the guy who usually can’t keep quiet is discerning to say the least. It itches uncomfortably at Steve who finds himself unusually eager to apologise.

Because, damn, if Steve doesn’t hate apologising.

Apologising means pulling out the stops, means admitting shamefully everything you’d done wrong, means having to prove how sorry you were.

It had been like that living under his father. When he was seven, Tommy had accidentally pitched a baseball through one of the windows. It had smashed right through, completely shattered. Steve had taken the fall.

He’d said sorry, head bowed, even though it had been an accident. And after he’d made Steve repeat his apology til it was a rigid phrase in his mouth, Richard Harrington had said; ‘Well, why don’t you prove how sorry you are, Steven?’

He’d ended up being his father’s personal beer boy for that week. Fetching them ice-cold from the garage at his father’s every call, from the moment he was home from school, to prove the apology was legitimate.

It had worked— after a week of doting, extra effort into keeping his room clean and to keep his father happy, Richard had permitted his son a rare smile and ruffle of his hair. ‘See? I know you were sorry now.’

Steve had learnt quickly in his childhood to go to lengths to avoid trouble with his father. To avoid the tumultuous apologies he’d have to perform, jumping through hoop after hoop for forgiveness.

But even then, Steve couldn’t escape them with friends, and especially not with girlfriends.

Tilly had been like that too. She’d been Steve’s freshman girlfriend, eyeshadow baby blue and lips always glossy. When Steve did things she didn’t like —spent Saturdays with his other friends, was late to dates— she’d pout her glittery lips and bat her eyes. ‘Aren’t you gonna make it up to me?’

Steve had — had pulled out the stops, emptied his pocket change to buy her flowers, went to second base because she really wanted him to, all to prove his apology. Until Tilly was back to her sugary smiles and fluttering hazel eyes.

It had even been like that with Nancy, though not quite to that extent. Forking out his savings to buy the nicest bouquet he could find, prepared to make it up to her, even if he wasn’t quite sure if it was him who was supposed to be apologising. But she’d gone silent treatment on him, so…

So, Steve hates apologising— but even more than that, is how much he hates Eddie’s quiet. So, when his boyfriend calls the Family Video on Friday midday, when he knows Steve’s soloing, and invites him over, Steve prepares himself for the grovelling to come.

The mixtape he’d already made sits in the gearbox of his car, carried around with him since he finished it. Upon hanging up the phone, Steve’s eyes catch on the florist across the street. His mind spins with all his knowledge of Eddie’s favourites — should he get those sour candies Eddie loved so much as well?Would it be too much?

Steve scoffs at the irony of his worries, considering what he was apologising for. Besides, it was never too much. There were never enough things to show he was sorry.

And Eddie couldn’t exactly be bought — not that was what this was. But Steve knew his boyfriend preferred all things in the manner of touch. That Steve’s affection was a far higher currency than anything bought with money.

That’s fine. Steve can do that.

He’s got a whole speech planned, honest. The smudged bullet points scrawled on his palm are testament to that, there to keep him on track and Steve checks them over religiously as he drives over after his shift.

It all goes out the window when Eddie opens the door, because Steve’s heart hiccups, splutters, soars forward in his chest.

Eddie looks just the same, his usual ripped jeans and dark shirt with a band Steve doesn’t know and yet— yet.

Steve is overcome by how much he missed Eddie.

Overcome at how those two days felt like two weeks to him. His mouth opens and the words burst out, “I’m sorry.”

part two.

[jadecantcreate]

in the whitchlite carinval. straight up “caking it.” and by “it”, haha, well. lets justr say. My chad

(some gideon exploration & little doodles)

[buwheal]

godddd when autism is a disorder that effects me ?! blasphemous.

[jesuis-assez]

↠ Tim & Lucy ↳ 5x04 - The Choice

[veinsfullofstars]

🪞 Fallen angel... who do you see staring back from the Mirror? 🪞

(ID: Kirby series fanart of Galacta Knight and my personal interpretation of his Mirror World counterpart. GK hovers above facing slightly to our left, his feathery wings spread wide, shaded in lilac and tipped with gilded wing talons, a swallow-like tail visible. He holds his shield forward in his left hand (our right) and his lance to the side in his right (our left), a single magenta eye leering at the viewer through the visor of his mask. A halo of heart spears floats and shines angelically behind his horns. Below him, M!GK hovers in the same pose but flipped horizontally and without the halo. Visually, M!GK has mostly the same features as GK, with his color palette being darker and less saturated (dusty purple body, dark gray armor, gray mask, maroon lance, rose-gold horns and weapons accents). His eyes are not visible in the shadow of his mask, but there are signs of erosion running down the metal surface in rusty orange lines, almost like tear tracks. Instead of feathery wings, M!GK has wings composed of jagged shards of pink crystal, glittering and lit from within by a luminous glow. A few pale feathers can still be seen peeking out from his back. END ID.)

Hey, so... what if... I went a little insane for a minute? What if I just... concepted a character... for the sequel... to an AU... I've told no one about... and haven't even finished writing yet? What if I then... pulled the salt shaker labeled "ANGST" out of the pantry and just... unscrewed the cap all over this poor lad? Oh, and Galacta Knight's here, too, I guess.

Sketch started 02/21/24, render started 03/01/24, finished 03/06/24, updated for color correction 11/02/24. | Kintsugi AU Masterpost

[shreddeddescent]

just kinda wanted to draw out this part of my fic as a way of making myself draw something