#curls? soft.

[stuckinapril]

Your morning skincare routine is self-care but your nighttime skincare routine actually feels like self-love.

[ourtubahero-blog]

David Tennant vs furniture.

[lilfairykay]

💚🌿🌼

[hairmetal666]

Never in a million years did Steve Harrington think he'd be standing in the drama club room in front of Eddie the Freak--who's sitting on a goddamn throne with his full lips pulled into a smug grin--asking to be taught how to play Dorks and Goblins. Yet, here he is, face a burning shade of crimson, as he explains for the sixth time what, exactly, he needs.

"Munson, it's not that hard. Henderson wants me to play in the--the game thingy they're doing when Will is home for a visit."

"Yeah, Harrington, and I stop listening every time you call it a game thingy. You obviously don't care about this at all, so why should I waste my time helping you?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "What if I pay you?"

Munson's face goes through a complicated series of changes before falling into a neutral mask, no smirk or teasing smile to be found. "You'll pay me to teach you dnd? Are you fucking kidding?"

"No?' Steve draws a hand through his hair, watches as Munson's dark eyes track the movement. "I thought you might help me out cause those kids never shut-up about you, but I'm willing to put money on it."

"Huh," Eddie says. He steeples his fingers under his chin. "Maybe I misjudged you, Harrington."

Steve lets himself smile at this. "I don't think you did. I don't give a shit about this game."

"Didn't take you for one to have a bunch of nerdy child friends."

"I'm their babysitter," he says, realizes immediately it was a mistake.

Eddie cackles until it turns into a full-bodied laugh, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. "You are something else, Harrington," he manages.

For his part, Steve hopes Munson hasn't noticed how bright red his face is. "Does that mean you'll help me?"

"I guess," he rolls his eyes. "But if you're just screwing around, I'm out."

"No, yeah, totally," Steve nods too hard, sends his hair cascading into his face. "Sounds good. How much?"

"Huh?" Eddie tilts his face up, giving Steve a perfect view of the smattering of faint freckles across the bridge of his nose.

"I said I'd pay you. What's the going rate for dnd lessons?"

"Oh, nah, free of charge, Harrington. Henderson would eat me alive if he knew I made you pay."

The smile they share is soft, tentative, and Steve doesn't notice the swathes of pink decorating Eddie's pale cheekbones.

---

They meet up in the drama room after the last bell. Eddie is waiting on the throne with his feet propped on the table, sipping a Mt. Dew. His eyes widen when Steve walks into the room.

"You're on time," he says.

Steve scoffs. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Eddie shrugs, sets his feet on the floor. "Just wasn't aware that the King put a lot of stock in punctuality."

"C'mon, man, I'm trying not to be that guy, and I'm definitely not king of anything. Unless maybe it's Family Video, but even then, that's Robin."

"You're kind of weird, Harrington, you know that?" Eddie's dimples bracket his smile. The sight does weird things in Steve's chest.

"I've been told, yeah." Steve smiles back. "Where do we start?"

They start with dice, with a character sheet.

"Chaotic-good human Paladin?" Eddie asks.

He shrugs. "That's what Dustin keeps screaming at me. I got no idea what any of it means."

"That's not entirely true," Eddie says. "You've kept up with me so far."

"Yeah, that's you. Dustin rambles and then accuses me of not listening when it's over my head. When he goes on long enough, I start to get a headache right here," Steve rubs the spot between his eyes.

"That kid," Eddie says with the right combination of affection and frustration. "I don't know, you seem to have picked up on some of the stuff he said. You have a solid idea on gameplay, at least. I'd say you're doing pretty good."

"Thanks," Steve laughs. "No migraine yet, so that's a point in your favor."

"Migraines?"

"Head trauma."

"Byers?"

"And Hargrove."

"That was Hargrove?" Eddie asks.

"Hit me in the head with a plate."

"What the fuck."

"He was pissed that Max was friends with Lucas. He came after them. I couldn't just let him--I think he would've killed Lucas."

Eddie nods, hands fiddling with a die. "No wonder those kids love you," he says.

"We've been through some shit together."

"Guess it makes more sense why you wanted to learn dnd."

"As much as it pains me to admit," Steve rolls his eyes. "I love to make those little shitheads happy."

"Well, based on the way they talk about you, you succeed."

"You too, you know?" Steve offers. "All I've heard about the last three months is 'Eddie's so cool,' 'Hellfire's so fun.'"

"Jealous?" Eddie laughs.

"Completely," Steve admits.

"Don't worry, Harrington, I'll make a nerd out of you yet."

---

They meetup after school every day they can over the next two weeks. At first, Steve is surprised that he doesn't really mind spending so much time with Munson, that he actually, kind of, has fun. And the more time they spend together, the more Eddie infiltrates his space. Leans into Steve's side as they sit next to each other, brushes their hands together, hovers over his shoulder, faces nearly touching, as he checks stuff on Steve's character sheet.

It makes Steve feel--well, it makes him think of what it would be like to run his fingers through the soft gloss of Eddie's curls; wonders what that plump mouth would be like pressed against his own; can't stop thinking about if Eddie is as vocal in bed as he is everywhere else. He knows he also likes guys, has for a while, but he's never in his life wanted someone this viscerally; so much he can feel the ache of it in his teeth.

It's the last day before the campaign for Will, and Steve is fucking sad. He thinks maybe Eddie is too. He's at least quieter than normal, explanations not at their usual fever pitch. An hour before they usually call it quits, he claps his hands together (too gently, too unlike himself), says, "That's it, Harrington. You're not going to be more ready than this."

"Right," Steve says. Can't help his eyes from darting over Eddie's face, aching to know what he's thinking. "You'll be there tomorrow?"

Eddie bends his head over his notebooks. "Nah, I don't need to intrude."

"But--"

"It's okay, Stevie. I get that it's family only." He looks like he really means it, but his eyes are sad, don't shine like they should.

Steve doesn't know what to say to that, just nods, and then there's nothing else. They stare at each other for a few very long, quiet seconds, before Eddie says, "I'll see you around, Harrington."

"Right, yeah. You too." And he walks out of the drama room with the heaviest heart he thinks he's ever had.

---

Steve thinks he won't miss Eddie. That if he doesn't dwell on those hours spent with Eddie, learning dnd, that the missing will go away.

It doesn't.

Which is how he finds himself back at the high school on Wednesday, standing in front of the drama room door, willing himself to go inside. Eddie's on the throne, the typical notebooks and binders and Mt. Dew cans clustered around him, but he's not engrossed in imagining up a new campaign for Hellfire. No, his head is in his hands, knees drawn up to his chest.

"Eddie?" Steve asks.

His head pops up, and even in the low light, Steve notices the silvery tracks of tears down his cheeks.

"Steve! What are you--" he hastily wipes at his face with his shirt sleeve. "What are you doing here?"

Steve's acting only on instinct, crossing the room and dropping to his knees, taking Eddie's jaw between his palms, thumbing away the wetness on his cheeks.

"Did someone hurt you?" he asks.

Eddie's laugh is wet. "Nah, Harrington. I only have myself to blame for this one."

"Can I do anything?"

"Are you trying to kill me?"

"Sorry?"

"You, Steve Harrington, kind and compassionate? Learn dnd to make your little nerd friends happy? Who are you?"

"I'm just me, man," Steve blushes. "But, uh, I came to thank you." He's still holding Eddie's face in his hands, can't help but notice the way he flushes, how his dark eyes dart away from Steve's.

"I really liked hanging out with you," Steve says. This close to Eddie, his mind doesn't quite feel like his own. All he can think of is big eyes, soft curls, full lips.

"Yo--you did?"

"So much," Steve whispers. He doesn't quite remember moving, but now their foreheads are pressed together, warm breath mingling, lips almost, almost touching.

"I liked it too," Eddie breathes. After a few seconds, he laughs. "Knew I'd make a nerd out of you, Harrington."

"Shut-up," Steve laughs.

"Make me," Eddie says, and it's just that easy. Steve crosses the space still separating them, presses his mouth against Eddie's.

The kiss is slow, exploratory, the gentle discovery of how they fit together, the promise of all the things they can do in the future, all the pleasure they can bring.

"I'm not a nerd," Steve says when they part.

"No, you're right. You're like a nerd by marriage. Nerd-in-law," Eddie giggles. His eyes are bright, face pink, the most beautiful thing Steve has ever seen.

"Shut-up," Steve giggles right back.

Eddie raises an eyebrow, the dare obvious, and Steve doesn't hesitate to kiss him again.

"You wanna get out of here?" Steve asks when they part, significantly more breathless, jeans significantly tighter, than when he arrived.

"You're gonna have to role persuasion for that, Stevie," Eddie smirks.

[canisalbus]

sometimes i think about natural hair machete

.

[pnkhalo]

ig: @cleanclitoris

[vanessavixenx2]

What I wore to the office…and what’s underneath! 💋 Vv xo

[awaywithself]

Thinking about zosan where they butt heads during the day, shoes to blades, scalding words, scathing glares. while none of it holds any real weight, they still play up this grand facade of hating each other, swearing by the stars they can’t stand to be in the same room.

but when night falls, those same stars pay witness to how zoro lingers in the galley as sanji cleans up after dinner, dozing off to the gentle clinks of washed plates. they see how sanji climbs up to the crow’s nest long after everyone has fallen asleep, with blankets and a bottle of zoro’s favorite sake in tow.

they see how zoro ambles into the men’s quarters after night watch and clambers into his hammock, bumping not-so-subtly into sanji’s. they see how sanji gently rouses at the movement, and when zoro’s settled, his breathing even, he slides out of his own bed and climbs in with him. he nudges him over, zoro huffing with childish and weightless petulance as he shifts to give sanji the space to curl into his side. they stay like that for however long the darkness of night lasts, sanji’s head on zoro’s chest and zoro’s arm around him, tucked close into each other, warm under the blankets and briefly, blissfully impervious.

and when the sun rises, chasing away the stars and their secrets, they part and do it all over again.

[bokutoko]

apricity

character: kiyoomi sakusa (timeskip!sakusa)

word count: 865

warning(s): angst-ish to fluff, nothing explicitly stated about the timeskip, soft moment with omi

content: when sakusa's own mind is his worst enemy, you are his deliverance.

a/n: this idea has been in my head for WEEKS.

The mixture of winter air and pure exhaustion crept into Sakusa’s bones, chilling him to the core. He let out a weary sigh, grateful for his mask providing a little warmth for his face.

Despite being known as one of the best and most powerful players in the volleyball world, there were rare moments where his mind was his most formidable opponent; where the small monsters of insecurity and fatigue ate away at his psyche until there was nothing left. His usual stamina that he’d always been praised for was gone—his body now in autopilot mode and running low on fumes. Weighing him down like one-ton bricks, lethargy flooded his being and caused all his thoughts to flatline, devoid of energy. 

As he opened the door to his apartment, nothing seemed more appealing to him than a shower and twelve hours of sleep. However, his body barely even had the strength to walk himself through the doorway and set his bag down, let alone stay awake long enough to shower, force himself to eat, and walk to his room for bed.

“‘Omi?” your sweet voice called from the kitchen. His half-lidded eyes fluttered closed with a sigh of relief, his body feeling slightly recharged just from knowing you were there. 

He trudged into the kitchen and leaned his head against the doorway as he watched you cook with your back to him. He observed how your hips casually swayed in time with the soft music playing in the background, listened to how you hummed along to your favorite parts. Focusing on you breathed some life back into his body, especially after such long and arduous days apart from you. 

You eventually looked back, sensing Sakusa’s presence in the kitchen. “Long week?”

All he did was nod with drooping eyes, barely registering that you removed his mask. “You’re freezing, ‘Omi,” you gently chided, slipping your hands into his to warm them up. Looking into his onyx eyes, you saw something foreign swirling within them, and you reached up to his face, running a gentle thumb over his cheek.

“What’s going on?” you asked with a voice barely above a whisper, as if you’d scare him away if you spoke any louder, “You look so troubled.”

He quietly nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, his hands moving around your body to bring you close. The sudden physical affection was unlike Sakusa, but you welcomed it all the same. He reveled in your embrace; your arms were his sanctuary, always open to rescue him from himself.

“I’m so tired,” Sakusa’s words slurred into your skin, unfamiliar with feeling so raw, so vulnerable, “of everything.”

And that was what led him to now: him, standing undressed as you drew a bath.

The hot water slowly brought relief to his aching muscles and frigid bones as he slowly immersed himself in the bathtub. He let out a sigh, his head dropping back as he allowed himself to finally let go of the week’s stresses. You sat beside him, squeezing out a generous amount of his shampoo. He opened one eye, silently asking what you were doing.

“Please, let me take care of you,” you requested, moving to kneel behind him, and he gave a small nod.

With the scent of lavender flooding his senses and the feeling of your hands in his curls, Sakusa’s mind went silent once again, but now for a much different reason. The serenity of your touch, the comfort of your presence, was his salvation. His body was no longer cold, like a corpse, but felt warm, thawing from the rays of sunshine that beamed from your soul. 

Your fingers slowly massaged his scalp, making sure to do your best to knead his troubles away. You leaned in to the shell of his ear, whispering, “Is this okay?” He gave another small nod in response, his eyes now fully closed.

With a small smile, you continued washing his hair for several minutes longer, hoping your actions were at least a little relaxing. 

But you didn’t see how you practically revived Sakusa’s frozen heart, how you brought color back into his face. You made him feel at peace, leading him to believe that true love was real—that love was meant for him too.

What on earth did he do to deserve you?

“Thank you,” he whispered, slowly surrendering to sleep, “I love you.” His eyelids were so heavy, his words barely coherent. He didn’t even realize he said it: those three powerful words. 

As you rinsed out his hair, you couldn’t fight off the smile that made your face hurt or the blush that made your cheeks burn scarlet. “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”

While snuggling in your shared bed, Sakusa relished the heat of your body against his. With a soft gaze, you looked up and took his face in your hands. You leaned in, your lips grazing his forehead: one kiss on each freckle. Breathing in his lavender scent, you contentedly sighed, “I love you too, ‘Omi. Goodnight.”

Sakusa knew that no matter what freezing darkness tried to overwhelm him, you—his dayspring—would always be there to shine his way back home.

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[unspuncreature]

howdy, y’all

i am scheduled for top surgery in just a few short months! i’ve wanted this surgery since i was 14, and i’m beyond stoked that it’s really truly finally happening

although i have a little in savings, i live paycheck to paycheck, and i need your help to keep the lights on while i’m recovering

click here to view my gofundme campaign! even a $5 or $10 gift goes a long way towards offsetting the costs of surgery not covered by my insurance provider and carrying me through recovery while i am unable to work

if you’re unable to donate right now, please share this post to your dashboard, with your personal trainer, on your nearest bathroom stall wall, or with that one 3 person group chat with the really specific name. you know the one i’m talking about

sincerely, thank you so much for taking the time to read and share and donate. this online space has been beyond important to me through transition, and i wouldn’t be the person i am today without you and your shitposts and meta and edits and fanart and fic and friendship

i love u guys :o)

[ourtubahero-blog]

Crowley: I brought down the entire mobile phone network in London.

Crowley: Call Aziraphale!

*All lines to London are busy*

Crowley: 😑 F U C K ! I am not a smart man.

[lilfairykay]

🐛🪲👒

[f1-birb]

mclaren Back at base one last time in 2023. 🏠 landonorris

[weapon-xox]

the cape wasnt a fashion choice btw. its to keep charles safe from everyone whose mean to him when charles looks up at erik all sad with those big blue eyes

[borgialucrezia]

what i find so interesting is that after juan's death, it wasn't just cesare's physical features that began to echo his brother's appearance more strikingly than they ever had during juan's lifetime, but certain aspects of juan's personality also began to manifest in cesare as well! after rodrigo shared his long-planned dream of creating a papal bloodline to be passed down to cesare, cesare's perspective shifted, and he became increasingly preoccupied with the perceptions of others, leading him to adopt a more classist mindset. he even felt ashamed of his own mother when she offered him counsel and the opportunity to join him in battle, rejecting her due to her former occupation as a 'whore.' this is just one of the chilling examples of how juan's aftermath continued to impact cesare long after his death throughout the show.

[poirott]

Benedict Cumberbatch and Sophie Hunter at The Serpentine Gallery Summer Party -> London, June 25 2024

Source: GettyImages.com (Footage by David Sampedro)