#comes from a fic

[nat-space-obsessed]

Day 6: Immortal AU

I guess the Everlasting Trio ain't so everlasting lmao

Danny's hair is a little funky but I tried!!

I had fun drawing bones!

[potofsoup]

Oh look, it seems like there's a Republican-led movement to purge voter rolls in the lead-up to the election! It's almost as if your vote matters and they don't want you to vote! Anyway, I whipped up a quick map (based on this) that shows when the voter registration deadline is in each state. There are a few deadlines coming up in the next week or so.

If you live in a state that regularly purges voter rolls for infrequent voters (the orange ones in the first map), or if you moved recently, it's good to check if you're still registered to vote.

Vote.org makes it super easy to check your registration: https://www.vote.org/am-i-registered-to-vote/

Just put in your address and DOB and they'll tell you whether you're registered. (And they give you a quick link to register online if it turns out that you're not! Only the 9 states in white on my map don't have online registration, and for those they provide instructions on how to do it via mail or in person.) If you want an extra verification, find your state's election website and double-check there.

So yeah, give yourself peace of mind -- do a quick check. :)

[starry-bi-sky]

FUNNIEST fucking shit that comes with making Danny eleven years old when he had his accident in "late at night, when the nightingale sings" is the implication following, that everything that happened in the show did too. And I fully intend on (mostly) keeping it like that. There'll be some changes (of which I need to figure out) but for the most part??? Yeah relatively the same.

Like I FULLY intend on keeping Dark Danny occurring 6 months post accident. Do you know how fucking HILARIOUS that is??? That Dan got his ass kicked by a goddamn FIFTH-SIXTH GRADER?? I'd never show my face ever again. Homeboy spent the last ten years being a one-man mass extinction event, only to get his ass beat by a kid who hasn't even lost his last baby tooth. That's hysterical. I'm losing my mind just thinking about it.

AND PARIAH DARK TOO. Imagine being an eons old tyrant capable of dragging whole towns down into your dimension, and you get singehandedly shoved back into your coffin in less than 48 hours by a kid whose bedtime is still 8:30. You didn't even have the time to expand your army! You were still trying to take over the city the kid came from!

And he just!!! Shoves you back in!! Insane! This kid hasn't even been dead for a full year yet! He's still growing in his ghost fangs! And he just knocked you flat on your ass in an oversized mech suit. What the fuck! It's like looking down and seeing a four week old kitten meowing very indignantly at you and trying to bite your feet, except that kitten is also actually a black-footed cat and they have a 60% kill success rate, and oops! Now you're dead. You took too long laughing at the kitten trying to attack you that it clawed up your pant leg and ripped out your throat.

COULD I, realistically, span these episodes out over the course of 2.5 years prior to Danny's family dying?? Yes I could! Do I think it's hilarious (and horribly traumatizing, which makes it twice as fun) to shove all of this into the span of (roughly) a year instead?? Yes. Because the show has such a skewed timeline that I've always just assumed that at the end of the show, Danny was starting his sophomore year in high school. So fuck it, lets go for it!

[mapletine]

a piece based off @/briarforger on twt’s fic the end of desire!! the fic was sincerely so beautifully written and thistle’s section made me turn into a small pathetic puddle please please please go and read it, it is truly a stunning work i can’t recommend it enough

all text on the image are direct quotes!! created and posted with permission from the author <3

[baeshijima]

being married to duke!blade is a feat inconceivable to many.

overseeing the northern region where monster outbreaks are high and temperatures are low, he is feared by many for not only his undeniable battle prowess, but also his cold and dismissive demeanour. from all the stories and rumours passed down from those who battled alongside the duke, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say his mere presence alone is sufficient enough to take on an entire army.

but despite his infamous personality, the young duke had made rounds within high society when he first showed his face. he was handsome, having that rugged appearance expected of a blood-soaked warrior residing on the battlefied, yet beautiful with a haunting allure — those crimson-marigold eyes of his can simultaneously bewitch an unassuming victim and bring the most prideful of monarchs down to their knees.

and, as expected of someone with such descriptors, many of the nobility found themselves drawn to him in spite of the rumours which clung to his very being. noble ladies wished to be the first he ever danced with, while many families seeked to gain even a morsel of his power through arranged marriages. relentless as they were, none succeeded in swaying the stone-cold duke.

and stone-cold he was upon your first meeting, albeit in… less than fortunate circumstances.

having meandered around the foresty northern borders not too far from where your family estate is, you certainly were not expecting to stumble across a rotting corpse smack-dab in the middle of your path! okay, well, rotting may not be the most suitable term, but the slumped body, battered and bruised and bloodied, you accidentally kicked was very much a corpse.

you had contemplated leaving the body there but, upon seeing a bloodied insignia of an all-too familiar ducal household, you decided you wanted to live a little longer. of course, this led to you lugging a slumped, muscle-packed warrior of a man all the way to where your estate was, heaving and huffing with your body trembling under the weight.

(to say you were just about ready to collapse when the family knights spotted your emerging figure was no understatement!)

whisked away into a guest room near your own, your parents called for the family doctor immediately. when the blood was cleaned and his wounds were wrapped, the sight of his injuries mending themselves was sure to be a sight you would never be able to rid your mind of. it was a strange but intriguing phenomenon to see his skin stitched anew, that horrid sight of him collapsed in the forestry almost like that of a dream.

your father immediately sent word to the duke’s estate to notify them of the circumstances. in the meanwhile, the man of the hour was unconscious for three days. seeing as how you were the one to find him, you took it upon yourself to help look after his well-being. changing his bandages, regularly wiping the accumulating sweat with a freshly damp cloth, ensuring the room is well-ventilated — you did the lot!

(sometimes you would stare at his resting face, wondering just how much more handsome he would be with his eyes open; only to retract that sentiment when recalling the tales about how his eyes could burn a man alive. exaggerated or not, he is still a dangerous individual you would rather not further entangle yourself with.)

with his people having retrieved their master from your care, promises of hefty compensation for taking care of their lord ringing in your ears, you were ready to sweep the whole ordeal under the rug and never get yourself involved with a man like him again! after all, he is the fearful duke responsible for your region, while you’re just another noble within his domain.

so, naturally, when you first heard of your soon-to-be marriage, you thought your parents did something to offend him and were sending you as a sacrifice meant to appease his wrath.

because, well, why else would the very same duke infamous for having zero interest in romantic and political marriages be sending a letter for your hand in marriage of his own accord? being unconscious the entirety of the time made him unable to see you, let alone know your family, so of course that meant his staff had filled him in on what happened. but why would he initiate this proposal without even knowing who you are first???

(did you get a say in this? no. would you have refused? yes. did your parents care about you and your well-being? aside from their apologetic gazes at your slack-jawed reaction and somewhat rational reasoning of “his grace may have an infamous reputation, but he is not a cruel ruler nor man,” you would like to deny the parental affection they have given you thus far in favour of objecting the claim.)

well, no matter. there was little time to prepare for his arrival to your estate, as the letter stated he would be arriving to escort you himself.

after much fuss over your clothing and luggage, the day arrived; you were going to see him again, except this time, he would see you as well.

a regal carriage entered the estate’s gates. the door swung open. a black gloved hand was the first to appear, followed by a ducked head of long navy hair, a familiar figure donning a freshly pressed suit and black overcoat, and finally — finally — a pair of burning crimson-marigold met your own gaze.

you weren’t sure if it was the adrenaline of your fight or flight response kicking in or the butterflies which ruptured within you that caused your heart rate to increase, but you found yourself unable to tear your gaze away from him.

he stopped in front of you, the features you once saw up close felt more complete than ever with the addition of his eyes open.

and thus, with your palm settled atop his outstretched gloved one, your fate was sealed.

(man. was this the compensation the staff were saying to you as they left…?)

that was two years ago.

savage. cold-blooded. inhumane. brute. monster. these were some of the ways in which duke blade was described. the man who currently sits on the edge of the bed watching you dress his wounds, however, is much different than the public opinion.

ever since exchanging vows at the altar and slipping sacred rings of matrimony onto each other’s fingers, you have come to know many sides of blade you never thought possible.

and while he rarely spoke in the beginning, his actions spoke louder than any voice could ever hope to measure up to. and, eventually, he became more vocal in regards to his feelings for you, just as you have with yours upon witnessing firsthand his true character.

from his battle-haggard, near manic state when on the verge of succumbing to the curse before falling into your healing embrace, to his tender fleeting touches and ever-adoring affection repressed within his gaze when in the presence of others, you have seen it all.

the process of getting to know and understand the intricacies of his life is almost like unravelling layers upon layers of thin bandage wrapped tightly around a gaping wound, hoping to block out the vulnerabilities which could be exposed. it was rocky at first, you being in an unfamiliar environment while he had his own inner battles to deal with first and foremost, but time carved its path for the two of you to partake in talks lasting late into the night, a subtle fondness growing more pronounced as familiarity grew alongside it.

and, of course, the time he returned from a subjugation battle-worn and mind having been overriden with mania. it was the first you’d seen him in such a loss of control. knights were rushing to subdue him while the servants desperately tried to usher your bewildered form some place safe, as though this had been a common occurrence well before you came into the picture. that hadn’t gone as planned, however, as the moment blade’s heaving figure locked eyes with you, a state of chaos ensued the moment he broke through the wall of knights with ease and appeared in front of you. no time was wasted when he lunged, a panic chorus of cries following suit as you remained rooted in place.

while you would never forget the blown-out, near-animalistic look in his eyes as he drew closer at an impossible speed, the gentle — almost reverent — manner in which he embraced you then, rigid body instantly relaxing against you, would forever be the turning point of your relationship, as well as a long-cherished memory of his first true feelings.

a dull sensation poking the space between your brows snaps you out of your thoughts. “stop frowning. i’ll be fine like always.”

your hands pause in their ministrations, hovering over his bare torso where you finished tying up a bandage. a blink and a sigh, another swab of disinfectant is in your hands working at the wound on his bicep.

“but that doesn’t mean i like seeing you return to me wounded,” you mutter bitterly, blatantly ignoring his stare. “i know you can take care of yourself, what with that regenerative ability of yours, but i still worry over you. you can still feel the pain, after all, and not to mention that curse—”

a swift tug forward abruptly cuts you off, your words fizzling on the tip of your tongue as a familiar warmth encases you in its entirety. instinctively, your hands grip onto his shoulders, the coarse material of bandages not unfamiliar to your touch, while blade’s hands are splayed across the expanse of your back as he holds you against his seated form.

his nose nudges along the slope of your neck, the shape of your jaw, the contours of your face, a trail of soft kisses leaving searing imprints in its wake.

a deep breath, a ticklish sensation, a thrumming heartbeat.

and when he rests his forehead against your own, crimson-marigold eyes dyed with devotion and seeping ardour, you think the world will be okay.

(even if it were to burst into flames and be reduced to ash, if it means you would be by this man’s side for a little longer, you think it will be okay.)

[improvapocalyps]

You have 90 minutes to complete. (original poem: r.a.)

In participation of the MCYT Recursive Exchange 2024 hosted by @mcytrecursive!

Inspired by know that all my love will be your breath (i will save you when your lights go out)

[text under cut]

1. Have you ever been in love? (Please circle your answer.) a. It's me and him b. Our hearts beat in sync c. Our lives intertwined

2. Do you understand what you’ve done? (Please circle your answer.) a. I couldn't do anything b. I lost my balance c. I doomed us both

3. It's been god knows how long since you felt phantom hands on your neck and there is no one in sight. If you were soul-bound to him and both of you died at the same time then why are you still waiting in the void? Please answer clearly, in full sentences. (Not a correct answer：I just wanted to see him one more time).

4. Define two (2)： Fate | The feeling of his forehead against yours Curse | The moment you realise he isn't linked to you anymore

5. True or False： i. It was your fault. ii. You wish you had met him under different circumstances. iii. You can’t regret a single moment that you had him. iv. You would do it all over again if you could. v. It ended long before either of you said anything.

thumbnails:

sketch cover thing for imgur link:

[valtsv]

i can't help seeing the concept of "coming back wrong" as reflective of the aftermath of attempted (and unsuccessful) suicide. whether you gratefully accepted death at the end, or you struggled in terror in your final moments and wished you could somehow twist out of the way of your oncoming fate, the choice to die was taken from you. you failed to achieve the inevitable. how wrong must you be, to be unable to even die properly? how horrifying - and how utterly infuriating - would it be, to have everyone around you expressing gratitude or disgust at your resurrection, while you cannot even begin to articulate the depths of your own conviction that death, the inexorable maw itself, must have decided there was something just not right about you, and spat you out?

[stemmmm]

Don’t think about it. Don’t fall asleep. Don’t look. Not yet.

fanart for the latest chapter of Then It Becomes, It Becomes, It Becomes A Problem because holy shit

[liloinkoink]

one thing i think people get wrong about Martyn in the life series is he really isn’t loyal

like yeah, we all know him as the Hand, following the Red King as far as their shared grave, but that is… truly the outlier and not the norm with him

i mean, let’s take a brief look at other seasons. i can’t speak to Secret Life, as it came out when i was incredibly busy and i haven’t yet had time to watch it, but what about the others?

he won Limited Life because he’s a chronic traitor! he betrayed Scott, his ally for the whole season, so that he could win, and said he’d been planning it / wanting to do it the whole session. spent a whole season protecting and helping Scott, and laughed in his face to betray as soon as he saw a shot to do so

Double Life was a whole mess of Martyn and weird loyalties. just one example: he spent all of the first session hanging out with Pearl in favor of even looking for either of their soulmates, with no regard for how he’d been putting his soulmate in danger. when their soulmates dumped them due to being ignored all session and stormed off, he dumped Pearl just because. one session in and he’s betrayed both his soulmate and his day one alliance!

Last Life he teamed with the Southlanders and then made the Shadow Alliance in secret, so he was on two teams and never truly committed to either. he tried to kill Grian basically immediately when he got boogeyman, for example, and in the final fight he tried to lure Ren to himself by offering to team and then tried to blow Ren up

of course, i’m simplifying and ignoring a lot. he doesn’t earn the loyal reputation for nothing. he does a lot of things to help his teammates, like giving a life to Ren in Last Life, trying all season to win Cleo over for all of Double Life, or working to protect Scott for all of Limited Life. it’s not like Martyn doesn’t play the part of a loyal friend well, but, well.

the thing about Martyn is that he’s selfish. he’s basically always going to prioritize his own survival over anything else. he’s never going to roll over and die, especially not for another person. he’s good at looking loyal, because having allies will help you survive, and he knows making outright enemies is a bad idea. he knows he can’t make it obvious he’s a traitor, because then he’ll certainly be killed. but, when it comes down to the wire, he will generally bail at the last minute to save his own skin rather than protecting the people around him. when his loyalty is tested, nine times out of ten, he will not only fail, but do so completely without remorse

it doesnt take a lot to become Martyn’s ally, and once you’ve got a foot in the door, he will take his allegiances seriously (at least, to a point). but it takes effort to really earn Martyn’s trust. and, even when it looks like you have, there’s no guarantee he won’t yank the rug out from under you if he decides having you alive is more detrimental to his survival than seeing you dead

and yes, you can especially see all of this in Third Life. Martyn was absolutely not instantly ride or die for Ren—for a lot of the earlier episodes, he won’t say he’s on Ren’s team or that he lives at Ren’s base, and often tells other players he’s simply Ren’s employee rather than teammate and that he’s wandering or homeless. he trusts Ren so little due to Ren’s inability to keep a secret or stand up for himself that even Ren acknowledges in the third session that Martyn is probably going to leave him and find someone else. Martyn’s loyalty had to be earned, and it very nearly wasn’t. if Ren had taken a session more to grow a spine, Martyn probably would have left

but Ren became an ally that Martyn could rely on, who could stand up for himself and keep secrets. it became more beneficial to Martyn’s survival to have Ren around, so he stayed with Ren for the rest of the season, and committed hard to their kingdom. Ren earns Martyn’s trust by becoming a more dependable ally, and because of that, Ren earns Martyn’s loyalty…. probably

(half related, bc i want it in the post and i don’t know where to put it: after the execution, two sessions after Ren officially earns Martyn’s loyalty, Ren admits to being genuinely convinced Martyn was going to take him out of the series as soon as Ren gave him the chance!)

because yes, even here, even after Ren earns his trust and Ren trusts Martyn to execute him and they become King and Hand, Martyn was okay with killing Ren to save himself. Martyn has said he was going to betray Ren in the final session of Third Life. his entire plan was that when he and Ren hit the final 5, he was going to kill Ren. end Red Winter, usher in Red Spring. even the most loyal version of Martyn was a traitor!

now, you can decide for yourself if you believe he could have actually gone through with this—he and Ren were 6th and 7th out of the game, after all. maybe he wouldn’t have been able to steel himself. maybe his loyalty would have, for once, been too strong to kill Ren.

but it’s very possible that even the most loyal version of Martyn—the version of Martyn who has created this “loyal” image of Martyn in fanon—was only loyal because he died too soon to show his true colors

[godihatethiswebsite]

18+

Oh to spend a day in the crisp autumn highlands, wrapped up in MacTavish plaid, hands kept warm with a small thermos full of mulled wine, watching a wild and carefree Johnny—all boyish smiles and face flushed from the cold—skipping rocks over the loch looking handsomely rugged in full Scottish kilt and a chunky knit sweater.

And if later on he lays you out on the blanket and keeps the chill away with his brawny weight draped over top and his hot breath panting babbled praise in your ear then who's around to judge a lad for keeping his bonnie hen warm the old fashioned way?

Masterlist

[quailsprout]

prime and protector fanart for @astolat's story, fool's hope on ao3

[starleska]

as a cringe selfshipper who's been in fandom for decades and draws nothing but blushy ship art, i feel so seen and so attacked right now 😂💖💖💖

[avayarising]

Batfam time travel fic idea: Dick is sent back in time to his younger body, around his early Nightwing era. But the younger body he’s sent back into at that particular moment happens to be concussed or sick or poisoned or something, so Dick (who wasn’t expecting the time travel in any case) is completely disoriented. Ten-year-old Stalker Tim sees him shivering/throwing up and goes to help out – and Dick just sees his little brother.

Tim has to deal with a confused, rambling Nightwing who is calling him by name and trusting him to help him and saying all sorts of concerning things.

(Maybe this is in New York, and Tim manages to call the rest of the New Teen Titans, who turn up and have to deal with this kid Nightwing has latched on to and won’t let go of, who apparently knows their identities. At least he seems as confused as they are about why this is happening.)

[stevebabey]

you're the only one for me, baby

1.7k, steddie, one of them getting so drunk that they don't recognise the other and telling them back off i've already got a boyfriend, it's all sweetness <3 likely a modern!au and actually just goobers in love

Eddie doesn't really drink. He's not against partying but he's much more attuned to smoking a little weed to take the edge off, sometimes a spliff if he wants to mix a little business and pleasure.

Eddie doesn't really drink—so when he does, it goes about as well as expected.

From zero to a hundred.

Steve had lost track of him after directing his stumbling feet towards the bathroom to take a leak. But apparently, as he's now found out, this bathroom has two doors.

What the fuck kind of bathroom has two doors, like some weird thoroughfare?

Regardless, it took all of five minutes with no noises coming from the inside before Steve had loudly announced he was coming in, no matter what, getting quite worried for his boyfriend.

He trusted Eddie to not be too sloshed to handle a piss, even if he was on the wilder side tonight, but still leaned up against the door to chase off anyone else looking to knock—because Eddie hilariously gets pee-shy.

The door had opened easily, apparently unlocked, and Steve had stepped into the empty bathroom. The other door across the room, the one he hadn't noticed until now, was wide open to the party.

So, now he's on the hunt for Eddie.

Which is a task that feels a little bit like herding cats because drunk Eddie isn't something Steve has a lot of experience with. But what he does know, is this: it's the opposite of high Eddie.

Stoned, Eddie likes to find the comfiest place he can (usually Steve's lap, or so he proclaims) and sink into it, like melting wax. Then, given he has access to adequate snacks, he doesn't move for quite some time.

Drunken Eddie cannot even fathom the concept of sitting still.

Either way, looking where there's food is a good as a place to start as any.

Steve ambles out the strange two-doored bathroom and flips his head back and forth, trying to remember the direction of the kitchen. He hasn't been here before—one of Eddie's band connections—and Steve's still had a couple beers himself.

He shakes his head and takes a left, relieved when it leads to the stairs. Okay, he sort of knows where he's going now. They had only come upstairs to find the quieter bathroom for Eddie.

As Steve reaches the bottom of the stairs, a faint stir of irritation flashes through him. Eddie just left him behind? That wasn't that nice, even if he was incredibly drunk.

He can hear the din of people chattering just above the music and he follows it, leading him into the half-full kitchen, people dotted around. There's a few pizza boxes scattered around and Steve eyes each of them specifically, looking for the tell-tale wipe of Eddie's greasy fingers. No dice.

Steve wrinkles his nose, spinning around and double checking before he moves on.

If not by the food, then... where?

Steve takes a few steps forward into the living room, his heart beginning to sink and shrivel all at once. There was a miserable feeling attached to looking for his partners at a party, a wallowing and awful memory tied to the feeling.

Steve pushes a hand across his chest roughly, as if trying to shove the feeling away.

Eddie wasn't... her. Eddie wouldn't do that.

But the moment he's thought it, it's stuck in his head. Steve's feet begin to speed up, checking a little more carelessly as he starts to stick his head in different rooms, his hazel eyes jumping around. Not Eddie, not Eddie, not Eddie—so many people and none of them are Eddie.

Until—there. Steve spots a very familiar looking behind as it leans over the back of the couch, the owner of said-behind talking to someone sitting on the couch.

He blinks, just to be sure, but the details come into better focus. There's chains on his belt loops and when he shakes his head, Steve can see the curls he loves to bury his hands into.

Eddie.

Steve's relief pulls him forward, his feet almost stumbling, his mouth pulling into a relieved smile. He puts a hand out, fingers spread, across the leather-clad back.

"Eds," Steve says, relief colouring his voice.

Eddie swings up abruptly, pushing himself off the couch. When he turns, a bit of liquid sloshes out of the beer bottle he's holding.

"Heyyy," The words come out a bit slurred and when he finally stands straight, he doesn't look right at Steve. "Handsssss off the merchandise, buddy."

Steve chuckles, reaching out and plucking the bottle from his boyfriend's grasp. Eddie gawps, an adorable little hiccup interrupting his shocked expression.

"Hey," He says loudly, reaching forward for it fruitlessly as Steve pulls it out reach. "That's mine." Eddie whines.

"You've had more than enough, I think." Steve says. He steals just one gulp of it before he turns at puts it on a nearby table. When he turns back, Eddie is frowning at him, brows pulled together tightly and bottom lip jutting out.

"Listen—" Eddie leans forward, jabbing a finger into Steve's chest. "I dunnowhoyouthinkyouare," The words come out in a one big jumble and Steve frowns.

What? Something sour claws into Steve's chest at the frosty greeting.

"Eddie," Steve says, his hazel eyes wide and worried as his gaze darts between Eddie's squinted face and swaying form.

Steve reaches out to put a hand on his waist, aiming to steady him, but Eddie sees it coming and widens his eyes comically. He swerves back to avoid it, his boots tilting dangerously on the wooden floors. If he was still holding his beer, Steve bets half of it would be on the floor by now.

"Wo-oah," Eddie exaggerates, waving a hand out and batting Steve's outstretched arm away. The rottenness in Steve's chest blooms, rancid and freezing. He sucks in a sharp breath.

"Ed—"

"I—" Eddie says, holding up his hand and waggling one finger at Steve, like he's a naughty schoolboy. His words still have that drunken slur to them.

"—already have a boyfriend, thank you very much. He's much too pretty to be throwing it away for the likes of you, you weasel of a man..." His ludicrous and nonsensical insult trails off under his breath as Eddie's attention is drawn away by a shout across the room.

As he watches Eddie drape himself back over the couch, the sourness between Steve's ribs shifts, transforming into something infinitely sweeter. He lets out a dazed laugh, a wild smile spreading on his face before he can smother it beneath his hand.

I'm dating a lunatic, Steve thinks happily.

He reaches out and steals Eddie's beer once more, taking another large swig before giving it another go.

This time, he sidles up beside Eddie who's engaged back in conversation with one of the guys on the couch, and just waits. It only takes a minute before the dude on the couch seems to realise who Steve's waiting for and he nudges Eddie, gesturing behind him.

Eddie, still bent over the back of the couch, twists only his head to look. This time, the recognition is immediate.

He springs up, pushing the couch forward an inch in his excitement and leaps forward, his hands clawing into Steve's shoulder with a fierce delight.

"Steeeeve," Eddie croons, crowding in close. His hands start moving, fingers searching like curious spiders, fingertips dancing along the sensitive skin of Steve's neck til he's squirming back, laughter betraying him.

"Stop it." He laughs. Steve arrests Eddie's wrists in his hand and Eddie cackles, using the pause to surge forward, kissing him square on the mouth.

Eddie tastes like the beer he's been drinking and Steve barely gets a moment to enjoy it before Eddie's pulling back, leaning forward so they're forehead to forehead.

"I was looking for you." Eddie says, his doe eyes wide. His pupils grow larger the longer he stares at Steve.

Steve grins. "Uh huh. Looking for me between the couch cushions, were you?"

Eddie rears back, his head flipping as he stares back at the couch and then back at Steve. "Nuh uh. I came out the bathroom and you were goooone."

That explains it. Eddie must have left out the other door — and then thought Steve had left him behind and gone hunting for him. Something else settles in Steve's chest, relieved.

"And—" Eddie hiccups. "—and some guy tried to- to freakin' flirt with me. Can you believeee?"

Steve's grin widens by a mile. "Is that so? What you'd tell him?"

"No, of course!" Eddie says, head pulled back as if he's appalled Steve would think otherwise. He shakes his hands out of Steve's grip and drops them, fumbling for a moment to get his fingers into Steve's belt loops.

When he does, he yanks Steve forward a tad too forcefully, their bodies colliding in a way that's more sore than sexy. Eddie continues on as if he doesn't notice. "Even if he was particularly tasty," He murmurs, his lips tracing the column of Steve's throat.

"I let him know, baby." Eddie all but purrs.

And perhaps if the competition Eddie was beating off was literally anyone other than himself, Steve would be right there with him.

Instead, he can't contain his snort of laughter. Eddie was perfect; he was a possessive and drunken dog, barking up the wrong damn tree. Steve loves him.

"You're laughing," Eddie states plainly, even as his doe eyes manage to grow even more round. Steve can't help it, it just makes him laugh more.

"Treason." Eddie declares. Then using the belt loops to keep Steve captive, he leans in and blows a raspberry on his neck.

Steve lets out an unattractive squawk, his laughter melting into Eddie's as he pushes his boyfriend's face away — to which Eddie simply lets himself go limp, his face cradled and held up solely by Steve's hands.

"Christ," Steve says between his laughs, shifting his hand to hold him more tenderly. Eddie smiles dopely, then puckers his lips and closes his eyes.

Steve rolls his eyes, entirely too endeared. "Alright, c'mere," He gives in, leaning and kissing Eddie, short and sweet. When he pulls back, Eddie's eyes are open, starry and gazing up at him. He gives a dreamy sounding sigh. Steve's heart fizzles, like it's full of pop-rocks.

"Ready to go?"

"As long as it's with you, baby." Eddie says, sounding every bit like he means it.

[keferon]

…..SO. AHAHAHAHAH. I finished reading Mistakes on mistakes until (technically I finished chapter 68 which is the last one currently~)

What a ride OH MY fuckINg god

[liampaynememorial]

Honoring Liam Payne: A memorial across time and space

As we continue to process the heartbreaking news of Liam’s passing, I’ve created this tumblr as a space where we can come together and remember him.

Several of you, including some anons, suggested the idea of holding an online memorial, especially for those who can’t attend the services being held in various cities. I believe this is a beautiful way to honor him and support one another.

I’ll be posting more details on Monday, as it’s quite late now and I’ll be travelling tomorrow to attend one of the memorials. But I wanted to get this blog up and running to share a date and a way for us to contribute.

We’ll be holding the online memorial on October 29th. The time doesn’t matter — just join in whenever it’s October 29th where you are, so everyone can participate in their own time. What can you share?

You can contribute in any way that feels right for you —whether it’s edits, fan art, poems, a personal note or letter, song lyrics, gif sets, your favorite photos of him, special moments, stories… Just tag me and I’ll make sure to reblog it.

Please, take care and be gentle with yourselves during this time. I’m sending love and strength to all of you 💕