#compliment prompt

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

Comfortable

Post-3.3. Agi gives Estinein a compliment and catches him off guard. SFW. #7 on this list.

“I feel good when I’m with you.” Agnes whispered softly, her head on Estinien’s bare chest. After a long day at the beach and then dinner and shopping in Limsa, they had finally returned to the cottage to cuddle and sleep! Sleep is very important! We only have so much time here before we must return to Ishgard so Estinien can continue his recovery. I just…I don’t want it to end. Why can’t we stay here and simply be a happy couple in love?

Estinien’s breath hitched, and he stopped rubbing her back. “I-I’m glad.”

Oh gods, was that the wrong thing to say? Was it too much for him? Oh no, please don’t let me ruin this. Agnes stayed silent for what she thought were longest few minutes of her life, hearing and very much feeling her heart pounding. She heard a rumble in his throat, his hand returning to rubbing her back.

“How so?” He asked, his voice uncertain.

“It’s just a feeling, love. I can’t really explain it. It’s…it’s like a warmth that fills me and covers me like a blanket. That’s how you make me feel.” I sound so stupid. He’s going to tell me I’m a stupid, foolish woman and leave. He deserves so much better than me. He deserves so much…

“I make you feel that way?” His voice was no longer uncertain but full of wonder. “I surely cannot…”

Oh, you wonderful man! You don’t think I’m stupid at all. How could I have thought that? Oh right…because me. “You do. I feel like I’m the most beautiful, most loved woman in the world. That’s what you do to me.” Listening to his heartbeat, it began to slow after picking up after her initial statement. He was nervous. Poor love.

His other arm wrapped around her, and he gave her a tight squeeze. “Full glad am I that I make you feel such things.” Pressing a kiss to her head, he sighed. “Because you do the same for me.”

Agnes could feel her cheeks burning. “Oh?” She squeaked.

Estinien chuckled. “Aye. Tis a good feeling to love and be loved. Never thought it would happen for me…not til you…” He began to drift to sleep, still holding her, his body completely relaxed.

You deserve all the love in the world. I hope my whole heart is enough. Nay, my entire being. My love is yours, now and forever.

[justaz]

that one deleted scene where merlin compliments percival and arthur takes him down, then merlin compliments gwaine and arthur takes him down, the merlin insinuates they’re letting him win so arthur challenges elyan and wins. merlin laughs after arthur stomps away and then lancelot comes over to chide him and complain and merlin laughs and says that arthur is just so predictable. out of the corner of his eye he can see the king returning so he flutters his eyelashes and places his hands on lancelot’s arms to squeeze his muscles and goes “and you’re all big, strong men. i’m sure you can take it” lancelot stares, confused, but can’t say anything before arthur plows right through them and grabs a weapon before dragging lancelot onto the field with him. lancelot turns to look over his shoulder with a betrayed look and merlin just waves back with a grin. arthur wins. leon sighs tiredly from beside merlin, scaring him bc he didn’t see the knight make his way over to him. leon doesn’t say anything but just gives merlin his Disappointed Mom stare and merlin mutters an apology

[solhunder-old]

Hello, solhunder. I absolutely love your little baby man art!!!! :D 10/10 will reblog again!!!! :3 If you're still taking requests, it would be awesome to see a Green Lantern little baby man.

Have no fear, the Ecto Lantern is here!

[ruporas]

happiness today and tomorrow (ID in alt)

[ky-landfill]

god... can i please have another Jason and Bruce? i just need that boy to be safe and loved

[save-the-villainous-cat]

The villain shows up at the hero’s apartment to interrogate them, but the hero is absolutely and joyfully wasted. Do whatever you want with this, it’s impossible for you to write anything that isn’t amazing.

Have a lovely day/night 🫶

"I thought you couldn't get drunk."

"That-" the hero let their index finger wave in the air "-was a lie."

"You're capable of that?"

"Getting drunk?"

"Lying." The villain pushed the hero gently to the side and invited themselves into the apartment. Immediately, their eyes scanned every little corner.

"Hey. Woah. Ey." The hero tried to catch up with them but they couldn't even walk properly. Not surprised yet unbothered, the villain took a step aside when the hero tried to grab them. Instincts had told them when to move, even when their back was turned towards their enemy. The hero was a little too loud anyway.

"Don't worry. I just want to have a look," the villain said. They dodged another fruitless "attack."

"Shoo this is my house, shoo," the hero said, as if the villain was an evil spirit they wanted gone. In a sense, the villain could've been just that, the hero was just lucky they weren't in a bad mood.

"Okay, listen." The villain took a step forward and the hero - who was still swaying - looked a little intimidated. It wasn't unusual for the villain to receive such a reaction. However, they felt a little bad that they did now.

Usually, the hero was a strong match for them. Which made them so entertaining to fight with. Brilliance was the hero's strong suit. Incompetence infuriated them.

And now the hero was definitely acting a little too stupid to be considered smart.

"Your entire home has been bugged."

"Spiders aren't bugs," the hero scolded their enemy. Again, the index finger and again, the villain dodged it. "And I have maybe two. Maybe two in each room."

"Bugged as in someone is listening to your drunk speeches," the villain said.

Suddenly alarmed, their eyes widened and they looked a little too terrified.

"You haven't had anyone over, did you? Might be a little embarrassing if I find anything in the bedroom." No other reason why they asked. Obviously.

They looked at the blushing hero and a million thoughts raced through the villain's mind. It was a little insane. Finding out about it at one in the morning and driving to the hero's place immediately.

They shouldn't have cared. They really shouldn't have. Maybe it was selfish, maybe it was dumb.

Because after all, the villain would have to listen to those recordings, even if they didn’t want to.

"Uh. No. Just a few friends." The villain exhaled.

It wasn't their plan. It was the supervillain's.

"Good. Now, be quiet for a moment, can you do that?"

I don't even wanna have anything to do with it. I wanna test the devices, that’s all. I'll send you the recordings. A gift from me to you, if you wanna call it that.

The hero nodded and sat down on the couch.

On the other hand, the villain turned and started searching through the living room. Under the coffee table, behind curtains or the TV — they weren't successful until they actually found a listening device under the couch.

As their search continued, they found six of them in total and crushed all of them under their boot.

Surprisingly, the hero had been silent the entire time and as the villain returned from the bedroom, they found the hero laying on the couch.

"Dodged a bullet there," the villain said. "Count yourself lucky I heard about it through the grapevine."

The hero looked up at them.

"You think they heard everything?"

"It’s possible." Yeah, maybe it was selfish. The villain preferred a bullet over hearing the hero with a lover.

"Noo, I talk a lot when I’m alone. Embarrassing." The hero covered their burning face with their hands.

"As long as it's not about work."

"Well, it kinda is because I talk a lot about villains or with villains or I try to come up with things I wanna say to villains or how to manipulate them or how to help villains or how to bargain or how to, you know, defeat them."

The villain raised their eyebrows.

"And obviously, you're talking about me the most," they only joked but when the hero replied with a "…yuh," the villain was, admittedly, blushing a little bit as well.

[scealaiscoite]

compliment prompts ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🐚 ꒱

— “you’re so cute when you’re half asleep.”

— “god, you look amazing.”

— “no one makes me feel the way you do.”

— “you don’t have to do anything. just being here, with me, that’s enough.”

— “there’s not a single thing i don’t love about you.”

— “thank you for always knowing what to say.”

— “i’d rather sit in silence with you than do anything with someone else.”

— “you’re just so lovable.”

— “i’ve always loved your [insert feature/trait], i think it’s one of the best things about you.”

— “i love you so much. i always feel like i don’t tell you that enough.”

— “you’re so comforting to be around.”

— “i’d be nowhere without you. you’ve gotten me through so much.”

— “your smile always cheers me up.”

— “i don’t know if i’ll ever be able to thank you enough for all you’ve done for me.”

— “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

[shanastoryteller]

Star Trek please!! Happy Halloween

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6

Admiral Archer is unwilling to take his rescission at face value and demands a more complete explanation. To Spock's relief, and the gathered students' disappointment, he's willing to hear it in his private office.

Captain Pike slips in behind them, which gets him an irritated scowl but the admiral allows it. Spock is only marginally surprised by this. Admiral Archer and Captain Pike are known to be on good terms and James Kirk had entered the academy on Captain Pike's recommendation.

"Explain," Admiral Archer demands.

Spock hesitates.

Starfleet is of course aware of the events that took place on Tarsus IV and so they must be equally aware of James Kirk's role in it. While Admiral Archer certainly has the clearance to know the particulars, it does not mean that he does, and Spock is loathe to reveal these particulars, even to someone who could find them out himself. Additionally, Captain Pike does not have the necessary clearance, and while he does not think that James Kirk would allow his presence if he did not wish him to know, or had not already told him, Spock cannot be certain and there is no way for him to ask.

"Commander," Admiral Archer snaps. "Is this a joke to you?"

"No, sir," he answers. He doesn't find any of this funny at all.

James Kirk steps up next to him and rests a hand on his shoulder. Spock resists the urge to flinch and shoots him a disapproving look. The contact is not skin on skin, but any casual contact is discouraged. James Kirk is very well aware of Vulcan customs.

Then again, his point of contact for Vulcan culture is Sybok. His brother had been significantly more... affectionate after Tarsus IV. Spock wonders if that's something he picked up from his association with James Kirk.

"It's alright," James Kirk says warmly. "Spock, tell Admiral Archer whatever you want him to know."

He doesn't remove his hand. Human's run hot, their physiology not perfectly calibrated to survive in the deep heat of the desert, but even still James Kirk's hand feels unusually warm.

"I was unaware of Cadet Kirk's background with facing impossible odds when I made my accusation," he says. "Having been made aware of it, my perspective has shifted. Cadet Kirk does not allow rules or the constraints of logic prevent him from doing what he believes must be done. This was what he was demonstrating by bypassing and reprogramming my system."

He can feel James Kirk staring at him but he doesn't take his eyes of Admiral Archer.

Admiral Archer frowns. "You didn't know he was on Tarsus IV with your brother?"

That he already knows is a source of relief. The incredulity is less.

"Spock had exams the time I went to Vulcan," James Kirk says. "Sybok loves an excuse to go off-planet, so we usually meet up on Earth. Spock and I have never met before." He turns to him with a grin that Spock is distinctly uncomfortable having aimed in his direction. "I should have known the second I saw you. You look a lot like your mother."

Being compared to one's mother on Vulcan is a high compliment. Or it's supposed to be. Spock's had those same words hurled at him before, but it was with cruelty, as a way to demean him rather than honor the woman who bore him.

James Kirk say the words easily, exactly as they are intended to be spoken.

"You're driving me to drink," Admiral Archer says.

Spock has no idea how to appropriately respond to that.

"What about me? You're driving me to drink," James Kirk says, "which is driving Bones to as of yet unknown heights of nagging. The stress isn't good for him but he keeps threatening me with hypos when I tell him that. Can't I just be concerned for my friend?"

That is not an appropriate response on top of being incomprehensible.

Admiral Archer rubs his forehead. "Chris."

"Sir," Captain Pike returns, grabs the back of James Kirk's jacket, and hauls him out of there like grabbing a wayward kitten by the scruff of its neck.

Spock stands there, unsure, until Admiral Archer glances up and says, "You too, Commander. I'll consider this matter closed."

He nods, "Thank you, Sir," and steps outside to an empty hall. Captain Pike and James Kirk are nowhere to be seen.

Once he returns to his quarters, he video calls his brother.

He doesn't pick up.

Typical.

[calethescammer]

A random tcf prompt :

Basically Cale finds an odd box one day with a beautiful necklace in it. And he wears it because why not? Like he did find it in his own room. So he goes around wearing it without realising that Jour gave it to Og!cale as a parting gift. And og!cale never wore it after her death.

So this is what I wrote:

Cale strolled around his bedroom lazily, because his kids had said that he needed to walk around or he'll fall sick. Not wanting to go out and be greeted with Ron's signature tea, he decided to roam around his bed only.

Looking around, Cale realized that he never really paid attention to og!cale's room. There were a lot of fancy decorations, portraits and lavish sculptures, though most of them only served for their looks. Nevertheless, the overall contrast was well chosen and his room looked spectacularly rich, even for a noble.

At a distance, Cale caught the sight of a plain box lying on the mirror-side table. He picked it up out of curiosity and saw in it an enticing necklace with a crimson pearl in the centre, its fire matching the color of Cale's hair.

Cale's eyes twinkled in a childish joy at the treasure he found. He worn it around his neck and was amazed at how well it suited him. Humming happily, he went out to check on his kids.

Outside, he was unsurprisingly greeted by Ron's lemonade, except that Ron stood absolutely still, his face not carrying the usual benign smile and his eyes focused on Cale's neck.

Cale internally wept inside, because this shameless assassin was now aiming for his neck in broad daylight.

'This is it...my only regret was that i could not reach my slacker life.'

Cale finished his farewell speech in his mind while Ron regained his smile, and Cale almost gasped in surprise because for a moment, it seemed as if Ron was smiling genuinely, like a fond parent. But of course he still remained vicious in Cale's eyes.

Cale walked to his father's office for some work, subconsciously putting his left hand around his neck, because the shameless assassin was digging daggers into his back with that chilling stare.

'The young master never wore the necklace after that day. Did something happen for him to...?'

Meanwhile, Cale regretted leaving his bed that morning.

"Father."

Deruth immediately got up from beneath the piles of reports and his face brightened upon seeing Cale.

"Cale, have a seat-"

Cale looked up in confusion, only to see Deruth frozen up with his eyes fixated on Cale.

"Uhm, father?"

Deruth didn't reply. Not knowing what to do, Cale shifted uncomfortably in his position, when Deruth suddenly asked,

"Cale, are you okay?"

"Of course, father."

'Why would i not be fine? The last time i coughed up blood was weeks ago.'

Deruth's brows narrowed and for a second, Cale felt like his father was about to cry.

Deruth looked at his concerned son, and he felt like crying and hugging him because of how proud and sorry he felt. The necklace he was wearing was the one Jour gave to him before her death. He always wore it, and Deruth didn't realise when he had stopped doing that.

He didn't ask Cale for the reason, and he felt guilty for not even noticing it.

(Little did he know that og!cale stopped wearing it in fear of reminding his already grief-stricken father about Jour.)

Deruth looked towards Ron and only after seeing Ron nod did he sigh in relief.

'Although i do not know the reason... it's fine if my son is happy.'

He patted Cale's head, because a hug might be uncomfortable for him, and Cale just stood there, wondering what was even going on.

As he walked through the corridor, the servants and the maids all eyed him, and Cale felt oddly uncomfortable.

'I know I'm trash but isn't that too strong of a gaze?'

He felt that everyone was being extra weird since morning.

What he missed, however, were the servants' fond eyes as they looked at their young master. They remembered how he happily announced and showed everyone the necklace his mother gifted him, and how he clutched it close to his heart, even in his sleep. And how he suddenly stopped wearing it and threw it away.

Seeing him wear it now was a strange and warm feeling, and only did they notice it now how well it complemented him.

"Human, it looks really good on you!"

"That's right, nya!"

"Yeah! It really suits you, nya."

Patting their heads, Cale smiled in relief and exhaustion, as he finally got the normal reaction he so desired.

(And as a relief from og!cale angst: After finding her mother as cale!krs, he gifted her a similar kind of pendant, and relished in joy as she hung it around her neck and showed it off to everyone, much like he did before.)

[runefactorynonsense]

Melotober - Day 19 - Nostalgia

What a difference a year can make!

[dracognition]

I absolutely adore your writing!!! The way you write Drarry is so comforting and delicious. Would it be possible for you to do either 67 (Character in peril) or 27 (Sick/Injured fic) with 61 (Love Confession)?

67: character in peril + 61: love confession send me a trope mash-up!

They were going to die.

Harry knew it as surely as he knew his own name. They were locked in a small space, surrounded on all sides: the Mediwizards were a few minutes away yet, and even if they got here they wouldn't be able to make it through the blockade outside. It was a possibility every Auror knew they'd have to face and a possibility Harry'd been facing since he was eleven. They took down the largest cross-breed smuggling ring in all of Europe. He and Malfoy would probably have their names permanently engraved in the DMLE. It was an all-around success, other than the dying thing, so it was—it was fine.

Malfoy's eyes were wide. He was pressed up against Harry, his wand trembling just barely in his hand. Harry could practically hear his jackrabbiting pulse—could see the thin pale shape of his pinched face. "This is it, then," he said. His voice was pitched barely above a whisper.

"Not a bad way to go out." Harry tried for a grin and didn't quite make it there. "Finally got the glory you were always talking about, yeah?"

Malfoy laughed: a choked, humourless thing. "They're going to put a picture of us up in the halls."

"Next to the Dumbledore portrait."

"Ugh," said Malfoy. "Bit ironic, isn't it?"

"You've earned your keep, I think," said Harry absentmindedly. Terribly, unwisely, his attention was focused not on their impending doom—not on the footsteps making their way to the cupboard they'd gotten trapped in, not the bloody death that'd surely follow—but on the small unhappy curve of Malfoy's mouth, the way his hair fell into his eyes.

This is it, he thought, and then he thought: fuck it.

"You can push me away," he said roughly by way of warning, and then he pulled Malfoy into a desperate, hungry kiss. For a moment, Malfoy was entirely still—and then he sprung back, burying his hands in Harry's hair, biting his lip and groaning when Harry made a small noise in response.

"I've," he said around a pant, dropping kisses to Harry's upper lip, his chin, the line of his throat, then, "I'm—I love you. Thought you should know before we—"

"I thought," Harry said breathlessly. "I thought—I never knew—" Distantly, he heard the footsteps quickening, getting closer, and the last thing he'd feel would be Malfoy's mouth hot on his jaw, Malfoy's words plucking at his heart, and maybe this really wasn't a bad way to go out—

"Hm," said Hermione as the door burst open, her mouth doing that thing it did whenever she wanted to smile but was trying very hard to look stern. "Glad to see you two are so focused on the job."

Draco straightened, flushed pink, and staggered to his feet. His robes were rumpled and his tie was askew. Harry was torn between pulling him back down and finding a hole to crawl into and die. "If you hadn't noticed," he said, coolly, "we did the job already. It's finished."

Hermione's lips were still pursed, but when Harry gazed beseechingly at her and asked, "Can we go home and do all the paperwork tomorrow?", she openly laughed and waved them off with a congratulations.

"So," said Harry after a few minutes spent shuffling off the scene in silence. "About that thing you said earlier—"

"Urgh." Malfoy wrenched his face away. "We can just forget about it, please."

"But—" Harry paused, gripped Malfoy's wrist just to have something to hold onto. "But I don't want to."

Malfoy stared at him for three seconds. He was perfectly motionless, his expression as blank as a still pond. He said: "You didn't say it back, over there. So—"

"I thought the kiss was enough of a signal," Harry said drily. Something rippled over Malfoy's face, but it was gone before Harry could read it, and he rolled his eyes. "Obviously I love you too, you idiot; why else would I do that?"

"Us mere mortals don't dare ask why you do anything, Potter," said Malfoy superciliously, but he was smiling, and Harry smiled back.

[justaz]

even tho merlin constantly complains about tournaments and arthur goes on and on about glory and honor, merlin is always the loudest in the stands and arthur always finds merlin’s eye first when he wins

[yugocar]

people who incessantly brag about how busy they are and all the accomplishments they have earned because of that are really sad to me personally, because i know they think i’m impressed, but i’m really not. like, great if that makes you happy, sounds like a nightmare to me. my aspiration is to lie outside on some grass for five hours and listen to the things around me

[bluishfrog]

do you think you could do dnf as fish?

also, i absolutely adore your art <3

dnfish kiss

@ everyone: Send me your favorite animals and I draw them as dnf :D You can also send other non-animal related doodle prompts

Dnf as animals series

[piratefishmama]

You're writing is godly. Can you take a shot at

09.  “I should’ve told you back then, but I didn’t want you to leave.”

Writing Prompts | No longer accepting new prompts

It was the first time in ten years that Steve Harrington had seen Eddie Munson in person, and it was from what felt like miles away in shitty seats up on the balconies, the only saving grace was that Eddie was being tracked like prey by the camera guys, each step, each sway of his hair, each manic, dimpled, toothy grin blown up larger than life on the big screens on either side of the stage. The rest of the band blown up on the ones in the back.

He wasn’t looking at the ones in the back, although the guys suited being up there.

“Steve… he’s uh… Eddie I mean, corroded coffin, they’re playing, y’know? In Indy? Dustin got tickets, but… well they’re not the best tickets, nothing VIP or close to the pit or anything, I don’t think Eddie even knows Dustin’s going, but… we could at least go and see him perform…” it’d been Robin that’d mentioned it, none of them had seen Eddie in person.

He kept in touch when he could with Dustin and his little adventurers, Lucas, Mike, and Erica. But he’d left Hawkins behind with nothing there to hold him back.

There could have been.

Steve knew there could have been, Eddie had told him the night before he’d packed his stuff and left, bore his heart to him in his backyard, hair haloed by the blue light that shimmered off of the pool, nervous but hopeful, he’d offered his heart on a silver platter and Steve… god…

He hadn’t known.

He hadn’t known just how much Eddie meant to him until he was gone, off to stardom with his band, leaving a possible life behind for something else. Could have, should have, would have, it made no difference in the end. Steve had said no when he really meant he needed time to work out his feelings, he’d shut down the possibility before it could grow, and had regretted it ever since.

Eddie had been gone by the following morning, he’d only said goodbye to the kids. Apparently there’d been a record deal offered at his last gig, and his choice depended entirely on whether or not Steve said yes.

Part of him wished he’d have been selfish, part of him wished he’d known his own heart before he’d stupidly let the rejection slip out, things would have been different… but then… Eddie wouldn’t have had this.

He wouldn’t have had a stage, an audience of thousands cheering for him in awe. He would’ve been stuck, in Hawkins, a place that still hated him… Steve was happy for him, truly. Happy that he’d made it, even if it meant Steve could never have him. He could stomp around the stage dressed in denim and leather and shred on a guitar in a way that made Steve’s ears ring but his heart happy, he’d never be tied down to a place that hated him.

He'd never be stuck where the past could haunt him. He could be happy even if Steve couldn’t.

The gig was amazing though, even if Steve stook out like a sore thumb, he’d done his best, wore a little eyeliner, mussed up his hair, he wore Eddie’s old battle vest with the blood stains still visible cause he’d never been able to get them out and Eddie had never taken it back, had seen Steve still had it after they’d won and claimed “it looks better on you anyway” he still looked like someone’s out of place dad, but he was surrounded by the party so, it didn’t matter. Nobody was paying attention to him, nobody was looking for him, Eddie wouldn’t see him from so far away, probably couldn’t even see the row in front of his face with the lights shining on him so brightly.

And yet near the end of the concert, while the band were wrapping up on their final song (before the inevitable encore the audience demanded of them, Dustin claimed it’d probably wind up being Upside Down, or Pariah, two songs he’d always claimed had been inspired by ‘his past’ from the bands last album, they were fan favourites.) A burly guy dressed in a black crew neck with a big white ‘SECURITY’ stretched over his broad chest, flagged him down.

Steve motioned to his ears, he couldn’t hear shit over the music, and could barely hear shit on a regular day, but that particular security guard, simply signed the words:

‘Not in trouble, come with me.’ confidently, as if he knew Steve would understand it. Only when Steve frowned in confusion and signed back

‘why’ did the guy thrust his thumb over into the stage’s direction. The band.

Steve, feeling suspicious, turned to look toward the party, only to find Dustin giving him a thumbs up, and Robin making shoo motions with her hands. Scheming little shits knew he wouldn’t think twice about attending if the seats were so far away. Would think it was safe, that he wouldn’t have to face Eddie. Face his terrible decision that worked out for one of them but not the other.

He wouldn’t have to find himself waiting backstage in a quiet room behind a door labelled ‘Talent’ because of course he’d go. His traitorous legs and heart would force him to go at the mere chance of seeing Eddie again, of seeing him up close, of talking to him, of the chance to fix a mistake he’d made years ago even if his new answer wouldn’t change anything between them. It’d been too long, Eddie wouldn’t still want him when he could have anyone.

If they had told him, he wouldn’t have to see Eddie, quietly (a word not many used to describe the man) enter, his back facing Steve as he closed the door just as quietly as he’d entered. His hair was longer.

The curls fuller, they reached down to his mid-back now and glistened with a mixture of product and sweat, Steve still wanted to touch, still mourned the fact that he’d never gotten the chance to.

“Y’know… When ol Dusty bun said he’d get you here… I wish I’d have believed him. I owe him 20 bucks now.”

“You bet on me coming?” Of course he did.

Eddie turned to face him, a small wistful smile on his cheeks that just hinted the presence of dimples. “Wouldn’t you if you were in my place? Steeeeve Harrington, at a metal concert? Pfft, seems a bit farfetched. You even dressed up too, shit, man, I guess that’s forty bucks. Vest still suits you more.” Steve let his head duck down a little, his cheeks warming under the mans gaze, unsure of the feeling within it. He didn’t know Eddie anymore…

Had he ever really known Eddie though? Had he ever given them chance to know each other outside of sharing trauma and comparing matching scars?

“…Why?”

“Hm?”

“Why am I back here, Eddie? Why’d you call me back here? Why not the party, they’re here too, they’d probably wanna see you too, it’s been years… why?”

“Ah. Dustin told me to, said I should have another go at something I tried years ago that didn’t pan out very well for me the first time around… has been chatting my ear off about it every time he calls… I guess I finally humoured him.” Something he tried years ago? Involving Steve? “Listen, Steve… I—”

Steve cut in, he shouldn’t have, but words just… had to burst from him driven by a flickering ember of hope, he had to, even if it wasn’t the path Eddie’s words were taking, he had to, with hope driving him on “I should’ve told you back then, but I didn’t want you to leave.” Eddie’s mouth shut, his head tilting to the side a little in uncertain interest “I didn’t know… I should have just told you, I didn’t… I wasn’t sure, shit, Eddie… I’d never… you—I’d never felt like… like that for a guy before… I didn’t know what it meant, I should have said—I should have told you that I just needed more time… that I wasn’t ready to answer but… but I didn’t want you to leave. I didn’t know you’d be gone by the time I woke up. By the time I realised I was wrong, you were gone.” He wanted time, but his words had come out wrong.

He’d stumbled through them like he stumbled through everything, struggled to get the right words out and they’d wound up wrong. So so very wrong. “And you didn’t think to call?”

“Heh, you were on your way to fame, Eddie and you didn’t exactly leave a number, Dustin told me you had a chance at stardom… why would I want to weigh you down? Where would I fit in in this life of yours, Eddie? I’m no one, you could have anyone.”

“Mmn, anyone. Even if the one I want believes himself to be no one?” Hope burned brighter, its embers brilliant and warm. “So… can I try again? Or was Dustin wrong?”

“Did you make a bet with him about this too?”

“Absolutely, I’d owe him two hundred bucks if he’s right.”

“Would it be worth it if I said try again?”

“God, Sunshine, I’d drain my entire bank account right into that little buttheads pocket without a care in the world if it meant he was right… i never stopped...” Eddie stepped closer, "I never stopped wanting... even though I wished for the longest time that I could stop... it's always been you, Steve..." now close enough to be within reach, his voice quiet but hopeful “so... is he right? Should I try again?”

“…Please try again.” This time… he wouldn’t be saying no.

[pyrepostings]

a social setting where whumper dolls whumpee up to show them off. Whumpee has so many more etiquette rules to follow around the guests with a much lower tolerance for fuck ups, and inside they're just barely holding it together by a string the entire night.

Then whumper decides to "reward" their good behavior towards the end of the night. A little drink for the nerves? Whumpee deserves a glass of the fancy champagne, there's so much going to be left over after all.

And suddenly, under the influence of the first thing they've consumed all day, whumpee can't hold it together anymore.