#fic so wish me luck

[auntiejohn]

in google docs obsessively checking the word count

[janumun]

God, you guys have no idea what this hug has done for me. It has watered my crops, cleared my acne, jumped me in my bed while I slumbered unaware, took me by the throat, body slammed me against the wall and fucked up my insides like Sylus’ big, thick, un-lubed cock. But that’s alright because I love the pain.

Sylus fuc/kers, you can bet good money I am working on another Sylus fic, smut ofcourse, based on this card for the good of my heart, soul and 🐱 ✍🏽✍🏽

The fic is now out and it can be found here ♥️

[monocaelia]

redolence.

he can't help but be drawn to you again and again; you're intoxicating and he fears he has grown addicted. feat. wriothesley & gn!reader w.c : 1.4 k warnings : physically intimate scenario but nothing happens , a result of me being touch starved lol note : i'm back for a little (: this idea has been haunting me and i wanted a simple warm up.

the warmth of your quaint apartment is welcoming as wriothesley haggardly enters through your doorway, a sharp contrast from the cool night breeze that clings to the streets of the court of fontaine. the smell of dinner entices the duke further into your home, but his exhausted body yearns for something other than the food waiting for him on the dining room table.

his feet shuffle across the hardwood floors, not even bothering to switch any lanterns on as your home has been memorized from the countless number of times he has visited you.

you, his beloved.

just as your name echoes in his head, your head pops out from the hallway leading into your bedroom and your bright smile lights up the darkness in your abode, putting the moon and her gracious light to shame.

the humble apartment comes to life as the lanterns illuminate the living space and the patter of your feet against the floor is all wriothesley can hear before-

"wrio!" you call his name and the duke can already feel his muscles relax and the weight from keeping busy at meropide lift from his shoulders. as if by instinct, wriothesley opens his arms wide and he doesn't need a warning from you as he feels your body leap into his arms.

and despite his world now embracing him in his arms, the duke of the fortress of meropide feels the most at ease.

your feet land on the wooden floor of your home as your lover sets you back down, grounding you back to reality and yet your heart still feels like it's feather light as if you weighed nothing more than a speck of dust as you meet ashen eyes.

he looks exhausted from a long day's work; the silver eyes that you love so much drooping and the weary lines below his eyes a bit more prominent this evening. his usually tousled hair is messier than it usually is and your fingers reach up to fix it as much as you could.

the sea of midnight tufts streaked with silver, reminiscent of the galaxies you would see littering the clear night sky after the tears of the hydro dragon cleanse the land of fontaine, is soft to the touch and you wish you could play with it forever. your fingers linger down to his jaw, caressing the scars that have made their home along his face.

and you watch as the man who has seen what the world has to offer in the worst way possible melt into your touch as if it were the only safe haven he knows.

"i take it work was rough on you?" you ask your lover, a smile growing on your face as wriothesley sighs heavily.

"don't get me started," he begins, pressing a kiss into your palm. "i'd rather not talk about it and ruin my mood for tonight."

your lover stays true to his word as his hand trails down your arm; his larger hand encases your own and keeps yours glued to his face as your warmth encompass him. however, as wriothesley relishes in your simple touch, something about you intrigues him. it stimulates his senses, reeling the duke in closer to your skin. he can feel your body heat increasing as he buries his face into your palm before sliding to your wrist as the scent grows stronger.

it's sweet, a smoky, herbal aroma with a hint of fruit... was it sunsettias? or bulle fruit?

regardless of what it was, it's enticing to the duke and he found himself inching his face further and further into the warmth of your body. you find it ticklish the way wriothesley's nose skims up your arm from your wrist, inhaling every single inch of your skin to get more of the aroma into his system.

his touch is dizzying to you; the kiss to your palm already sending your chest ablaze and it only gets worse the more he kisses up your arm. each press of his lips against your skin sends waves of heat over your body but you find it hard to pull away from the intimate atmosphere.

"new perfume?" your boyfriend grumbles against your shoulder as he takes in more of the scent. what was it; the fruity smell is on the tip of his tongue and yet fatigue clouds his brain.

"n-no," you stammer out in a voice that wavers in strength. your free hand, the one not held in your lover's as his lips caress your skin again and again, grips onto the fabric of his shirt. his heat melds into yours as your bodies get closer in the small room of your apartment. "it's a new body oil i'm trying out from sumeru... does it smell weird?"

truly, wriothesley's actions are quite the opposite of that. if anything, this herbal scent clinging onto your body lures the supposed cold duke that oversees the fortress of meropide into your frame and turns him into complete putty underneath the mere graze of your finger.

if only the prisoners of meropide could see the duke now.

wriothesley feels your body shiver as he nears your neck with his touch. you're flustered, skin warming up and breath hitching, and as a result he pulls away from your body... only to be greeted by such a delightful sight; eyes wide open like a deer caught in the spotlight and your kissable lips parted in such a way that almost reels him in completely.

oh, what you do to him.

"far from weird, sweetheart," wriothesley murmurs softly, his voice a mere whisper, before he delves down again as temptation rules over his mind and his body yearns for your touch. his lips press into your own, the taste of his afternoon tea enveloping your senses; it's floral yet citrus hints make your head spin as his kisses caress your lips again and again.

wriothesley's arms have moved to hold your waist and pull you closer to him; the need to feel every inch of you on his own body is overwhelming the duke and he knows he won't be able to hold himself back for too long.

you're too intoxicating and the aroma that wafts from your body is only pulling him further and further in.

your lover pulls away from the kiss, but you've only a moment of respite before his lips press into your skin again. they trail from your jaw down to the crook of your neck. your body shivers as his warm breath fans across the expanse of your neck and yet you're far from cold.

it's ticklish the way wriothesley buries himself into your neck and you can't even pull away to compose yourself as his arms trap you within his arms; a prisoner in the fortress of his embrace.

"wrio, maybe we should call it a night?" your voice is barely a breath as you try to snap your lover out of his trance, not that you would mind where this would be headed to but... the moon was high in the sky and you know wriothesley would be even more exhausted the next morning should the both of you continue.

his nuzzles against your skin put to a halt due to your words and like an obedient lover, wriothesley pulls away with a tired smile. he leans down again but only to press light kisses against the apples of your cheek and forehead.

"sorry, darling," wriothesley whispers in the close space between you. his thumb has come up to gently rub across your cheek and his heart skips a beat seeing how frazzled you had become because of him. he kisses you again, but this time it's brief and light. "you're just too much for me sometimes."

"all i did was welcome you home." your deadpan manner makes your lover chuckle softly.

and yet as the two of you bicker late into the night, all the duke could think about was the solace that you bring when you're near him. the warmth in your smile, the comfort in your embrace, and the relief that you bring to him with just your scent alone is enough to bring his mind at ease after the taxing work hours at the fortress of meropide.

should the days toughen the duke even more than he already is, he knows you'll be there to soften and protect his heart with a simple touch.

his solace.

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

me on my way to a date realising i’m going to have to actually spend time with a real life man who isn’t one of my friends or one of the comfort men that live in my phone

[jellyshoes-fandomfolk]

Isat Chatfic

*Siffrin has added Isabeau, MIRABELLE PLUMS, Odile, Bonnie and Petronille*

Siffrin: Hi.

Bonnie: Wtc

MIRABELLE: What is this?

Siffrin: Groupchat.

Petronille: Why?

Siffrin: Because. I’m lonely and it’s 2 am

Bonnie: go bother za

Siffrin: No

And plus he’s on here

Isabeau: hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

MIRABELLE: Hi!

Petronille: Good change why are ther so many is

Isabeau: idk bc its fun

MIRABELLE: Yeah :)

Siffrin: So this is the groupchat

Bonnie: Weres Dile

Odile: *Where’s

Isabeau: Ther you are Madame

Odile: Rejoyce.

Petronille: ok these names are boring hold on

*Petronille changed their name to Nille*

*Nille changed MIRABELLE’s name to Mira*

*Nille changed Siffrin’s name to Star*

*Nille changed Bonnie’s name to Bonbon*

*Nille changed Isabeau’s name to Za*

*Nille changed Odile’s name to Hardcover Book To The Head*

Nille: That’s better

Hardcover Book To The Head: Why is this my name.

Nille: Remember when you hit Siffrin in the head with a book

Threatened to but still

Hardcover Book To The Head: …Fair point.

Star: omg tysm Nille

Nille: Why

Star: My name i like it

Nille: ur welcome

Bonbon: Why do they get a cool name

Nille: It fits with how much he talks about stars

Mira: with that logic, Petronille’s name should be having a lot of hair.

*Isa changed Nille’s name to Long hair enthusiast*

Long hair enthusiast: I know where you sleep Isabeau

Isa: Oh change I’m so scared

Star: Yes ok we get it, you think you’re edgy

Long hair enthusiast: AFTER I GAVE YOU THAT NAME

Long hair enthusiast: THAT’S IT 

*Long hair enthusiast changed Star’s name to wannabe edgelord*

wannabe edgelord: BLIND YOU WOMAN

Hardcover Book To The Head: Siffrin, with all due respect, leave cursing people out in other languages for when we’re actually awake. I want to partake, I can’t if I’m half asleep

 wannabe edgelord: Fine

Gn ya’ll

Isa: gn sif

Mira: Goodnight!

Long hair enthusiast: night

Bonbon: gud night

Hardcover Book To The Head: Goodnight.

*Isa and five others went offline.*

[wikiangela]

tease tidbit tuesday

tagged by @bidisasterbuckdiaz 💖

me impatiently waiting for tuesday to share a snippet bc im obsessed with bucktommy rn and after some editing im loving everything i've written in this fic so far and wanna share every word of it asap lmao

here's a bit more, and yes they are talking about the evan thing bc at first it bothered me so much, but it grew on me (with fics and some takes on it i saw and just the more i saw it and thought about it) and now im kinda loving it lol

prev snippet

___

“If you wanted me out of my shirt, you should’ve just said so.” he murmurs.

“I want you out of your shirt.” Buck says without hesitation, and Tommy releases a breathless, surprised laugh.

“Suddenly so forward.” he shakes his head, capturing Buck’s lips again. Well, Buck has been kind of shy and flustered with Tommy, but that’s not always how he is, not how he used to be.

“Oh, you have no idea.” Buck grins, and then, still a little hesitantly, places his palm over Tommy’s thigh where it rests over Buck’s knee. Tommy looks at him curiously, and Buck’s grin widens as he pulls his leg up and over his lap, getting Tommy to properly straddle him now, his shirt falling over his back again, as he releases a surprised gasp. “Now that’s better.” he adds, getting used to the unfamiliar weight, Tommy being bigger and heavier than Buck’s used to with his previous partners, obviously, but it- it feels good, right, almost comforting, Tommy’s steady and firm presence surrounding him now. Plus, it is kinda hot, too.

“Evan.” Tommy just says breathlessly, and Buck’s smile softens, one of his hands moving to the side of Tommy’s neck, just resting there.

“You know you’re one of the very few people who call me that?” he whispers, the mood shifting a bit from hot and impatient to soft and warm, and pleasant, and Buck really feels so comfortable with Tommy.

“Yeah, I noticed.” Tommy replies, settling more comfortably, wrapping his arms around Buck’s neck loosely, but his hands play with Buck’s hair lightly. He sits far enough on Buck’s lap that their crotches don’t touch, and Buck’s not sure if he’s happy about that. “Does it bother you?” he asks with a hint of worry.

“No, no, of course not.” Buck rushes to say. If it did, he’d say something. No, it doesn’t bother him. The opposite, in fact. “I actually-” he can’t help a small awed smile. “I think I like it.”

“Why do you sound so surprised?” Tommy tilts his head curiously, and he’s so cute, and Buck needs to kiss him. So he does. Because he can. And he can’t stop smiling.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @thebravebitch @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @neverevan @weewootruck @loveyouanyway @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @underwater-ninja-13 @exhuastedpigeon @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @theotherbuckley @buddieswhvre @dangerpronebuddie @diazsdimples @daffi-990 @fortheloveofbuddie @hoodie-buck @tizniz @your-catfish-friend @hippolotamus

[hall0wedwyrm]

I want to revive that 'Black Doom Lived' AU I wrote ages ago just so Eclipse can make fun of Shadow for being in a relationship/having a crush on Sonic.

"Darkling, do not make fun of him. They've been with mortals longer than we."

Eclipse rolls their eyes, and Shadow triumphantly smirks.

"... but it is rather pathetic though." Black Doom adds. If he could grin he would.

Eclipse howls with laughter. Shadow stares, slowly turning red.

[baffokitty]

Please write the Lilith and Charles fic please 🙏

The people have spoken 🙏🙏🙏

[ghosttotheparty]

with every beat of my heart

also on ao3 cw: grief, death of a parent, past child abuse, panic attack

Steve isn't in bed when Eddie wakes up.

That's what wakes him up in the first place. The lack of Steve's warmth, the way the mattress isn't dipping under his weight and dragging Eddie closer to him the way it usually does. It's still dark when Eddie blinks his eyes open, and he slides a hand out over the mattress, feeling the blankets that have been tossed back and set over Eddie's body. It's cold. Eddie pushes himself up, listening closely for the creaky floorboards in the hallway of their apartment, for any indication that Steve just went to the bathroom, went for some water or painkillers, but the apartment is silent.

Eddie sits up, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. His whole body aches the way it always does when he wakes up, but he pushes himself to his feet anyway, untangling from the blankets in the dark and tossing them back to the bed.

He creeps down the hall, squinting in the dark until he looks around the corner to see the kitchen light shining under the crooked door.

"Stevie?" he says weakly, his voice rough as he pushes the door open.

Steve is sitting at the dining table, his arms crossed on it in front of him. He's staring at the tablecloth like it's speaking to him, and he doesn't look up until Eddie says his name again. He blinks, his eyes raising up to look at Eddie blankly.

"Hey," he says, like it's perfectly normal for him to be here at two in the morning.

"What's going on?" Eddie asks, blinking his eyes in the bright light of the kitchen. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Steve breathes. "Fine."

"Steve." He goes to stand next to Steve so Steve is looking up at him, and he pushes a hand through Steve's tangled hair. It's longer now, unkempt and beautiful. Steve blinks up at him, exhaling. "What happened? You have a nightmare?"

"No," Steve says softly. "My mom called."

Eddie blinks, fully awake. She's not supposed to have their number. Steve went zero contact with his parents when they moved out of Hawkins.

"How did she..."

"Joyce gave it to her."

Eddie blinks again. Joyce knows all about Steve's parents. She wouldn't do that without a good fucking reason.

"What did she have to say?" Eddie asks softly, pulling a chair over and sitting down in front of Steve. The chairs are mismatched. All of them are. From garage sales and second-hand stores.

Steve stares at him for another few moments, his eyes almost empty. Absent. A pit grows in Eddie's stomach. Steve isn't even moving. He's usually fidgeting with something, tapping his fingers, bouncing his knee, rubbing the fabric of his shirt, rocking back and forth. Especially when Eddie made it very clear when they moved in together that it was all fine. None of it is annoying, or childish, or weird. Eddie waits while Steve stares at him, wanting to reach out and touch him, to hold his hand or his cheek, but the pit in Eddie's stomach says that's not what Steve needs right now.

"My dad's dead," Steve says finally, blinking. His eyes clear up a little bit, finally looking at Eddie instead of through him.

Eddie blinks, straightening.

"Oh."

He doesn't know what to say.

He doesn't know what there is he could say.

"He had a heart attack last night," Steve continues, possibly picking up on Eddie's speechlessness. "He didn't make it." He cracks an odd smile, tilting his head, but it fades just as quickly as it appeared. "Guess all that anger finally caught up with him."

Eddie feels sick. Like he has a fever. Too hot, almost shivering.

"How do you feel?" he asks softly.

"Mom's having a hard time," Steve says, like he's ignoring the question, but Eddie knows it just didn't register. He's not really hearing Eddie right now. "She was crying on the phone, I-- I didn't really know what to say? I said he's in a better place, but that feels so shallow, I mean--"

"Baby," Eddie interrupts. Steve shuts up, looking at him with wide eyes like he's in trouble, so Eddie finally reaches a hand out, holding it open and waiting. Steve looks at his hand like it's foreign for a moment before he slides his hand into it. He's shaking. "How do you feel?" Eddie asks again, slower.

"I..." Steve takes a deep breath, blinking at their hands, at the bands around their ring fingers they bought the day they left Hawkins. Not legal wedding rings, but neither of them has ever really cared about the law. "I don't know."

"Do you wanna go through it or around it?" Eddie asks gently. It's the same question they ask each other whenever they have nightmares or flashbacks or just generally hard days. Always a quicker way to other questions.Do you wanna tell me about it or go back to sleep? Do you wanna describe what happened or watch a movie? Do you wanna talk about it or have sex? Do you wanna cry for a while or go for a drive? But they always go through it eventually, even if they go around it first.

"I don't know," Steve breathes, his eyes suddenly glistening as he stares through the floor. "I don't know, I don't-- I don't know."

"You want me to decide?"

Steve looks into his eyes, looking scared and small and desperate. He nods. Eddie squeezes his hand and takes a deep breath.

"Let's go through it," he says softly, listening to the way Steve's voice stutters in his throat. Eddie nods encouragingly, squeezing again. "'S okay, I'm right here," he murmurs. "We'll go through it together, okay?"

"Okay," Steve says.

"Tell me what you're feeling."

Steve takes another breath.

"...Confused."

"Why?"

Steve licks his lips, looking at their hands, and his face hardens after a moment as he bites his lip, and his lip quivers, and Eddie can tell that he's aching to go around it instead. But Steve looks up into Eddie's eyes, and Eddie gives him a nod. You got it. Whatever it is you're feeling, it's okay. And Steve goes through it.

"That man," he says slowly. "Was a piece... of fucking shit."

Eddie almost smiles. He nods.

"He..." Steve takes a deep breath. Eddie squeezes his hand. "He made me fucking miserable. Every fucking day." His voice is firm, unwavering. "He made my life a living hell. And I don't..." He shakes his head like he's speechless, like he's in disbelief, and then his eyebrows furrow as his eyes fill with tears, but he squeezes them shut so the tears all fall down his cheeks, and he steadies himself. "I used to--" His voice breaks, and he chokes on it, pausing to swallow. "I used to lay in bed at night," he says, his voice softer. "And... And wish he'd fucking die. I would wish he'd have a heart attack, or-- or get in a car accident, or be at the wrong place at the wrong time, and it's so fucking shitty, but I--" He cuts off with a scoff, his expression lightening. "Every birthday wish, every eleven-eleven, every goddamn ladybug that landed on me in the summertime. I wished he'd die. I wished he'd be one of those shitty dads that just up and left his family for no good reason."

Eddie listens intently, his eyes burning, holding Steve's hand tightly.

"The only time I ever prayed," Steve says quietly, "to a god I never even believed in, it was to ask God to make my dad fuck off the face of the earth." He laughs again, dryly, weakly, shaking his head. "And now..." He swallows again. "Now, fucking what?" He looks up again, at Eddie, but he's looking through him again. Eddie nods anyway, listening. "Now I turn twenty-four, and I'm long fucking gone and he just... Now he dies." His lip is quivering, his eyes gleaming with tears. "That's not fair," he whispers.

Eddie shakes his head in agreement, because it's not fucking fair. It's not fucking fair that Steve lived in that goddamn house in fear for his whole life, his whole childhood, surviving instead of living, and only now, when he has a home, is it safe to go back.

"And that's--" Steve chokes. "That's cruel, and shitty of me to say, but I-- I don't care."

"'S not shitty, Steve," Eddie says, squeezing his hand.

"It is," Steve argues weakly. "But I don't care. He... He hurt me. For years," he says, and he's crying now, tears falling down his face that Eddie wipes away with every ounce of care he can. "And now he's dead, and I never got to tell him to his face how much he hurt me. Or how much he scared me, and I never got to tell him that I'm not scared of him anymore. Because he--" He swallows, blinking tears out of his eyes, emphasizing with a movement of the hand that Eddie isn't holding, like he doesn't want to let go of Eddie's. "Because he was nothing," Steve chokes, "but a fucking coward that put his hands on a child, and that really wasn't fair."

Eddie nods, pride glowing in his chest because Steve is getting it. He's getting everything that Eddie's tried to tell him for years, every time he's woken up from nightmares about coming home late to find his father waiting to interrogate him, about breaking a glass dish as a child because the counters were too high.

"But he-- I'm so angry," Steve says, the last word breaking on its way out, too breathy and soft. "Because why now?" A tear falls from Eddie's eye, and even in his anger and confusion, Steve wipes it away gently, almost mindlessly. "I'm twenty fucking four, and he-- he dies now. Why not-- Why not when I was eight? Or-- Or twelve? Or fifteen? Why not when I needed it to happen? Why not when I prayed for it to happen? It's not fucking fair."

"No," Eddie chokes. "'S not fair, Stevie."

"I'm so angry," Steve says, crying, gasping for breath, his hand trembling as it grips Eddie's. "I'm so angry, Eddie, I don't-- It's like there's no space in me for anything else."

Eddie lifts his hand and kisses it softly, because he can't find any words right now.

"Is this grief?" Steve wonders out loud, his eyes wandering to the floor, tracing the tiles desperately like they'll lead to an answer. "Do you have to love someone to grieve them?"

Eddie's chest aches. He wants to go around it. He doesn't want to go through it anymore.

"Because I have never loved him," Steve says almost thoughtfully, passionately. "But I..." He's still looking at the floor, and a part of Eddie wonders if Steve remembers that he's even here. If he's even still speaking to Eddie, or if he's just thinking out loud. "But if something happened to you," Steve says, answering Eddie's silent question, "or-- or Robbie, or Dustin, or..." He shakes his head, shrugging weakly. "I would be... on the floor. Screaming-- I-- I don't think I could handle it, I would be so... so angry." He looks up into Eddie's eyes. "At the fucking universe, at God, at everything that could possibly be responsible for it, but with him," Steve says. His head tilts forward, and his eyes widen. "I'm angry at him. It's like he died out of fucking spite. Like he knew, like he fucking waited. And that's not fair."

He's quiet for a moment before,

"Is it my fault?"

Eddie blinks a tear out of his eye, squeezing his hand tightly.

"Did he die because I left?" Steve asks. "Was it too much for him? Did he..."

"Steve," Eddie says firmly, prompting Steve to look into his eyes, and Eddie leans forward, speaking slowly, deliberately, firmly, leaving no room for argument. "This is not your fault. Nothing he ever did to you was your fault. You understand me?"

Steve's lip quivers, and tears spill from his eyes.

"I'm so angry, Eddie," he whispers brokenly, and Eddie nods.

"I know, honey," he says, and he stands, pulling at Steve's shoulders until Steve wraps his arms around Eddie's hips tightly, burying his face in Eddie's belly. Eddie pushes his fingers into his hair, tugging it firmly the way he likes, and he looks up at the cracked paint on the ceiling when Steve's shoulders shake as he cries. "You haven't done anything wrong," he says gently, his voice wavering. "There's nothing wrong with you."

"I'm so angry," Steve sobs into his shirt, and Eddie can barely understand him. He nods even though Steve can't see him, pulling his hair again, sliding a hand down to his upper back firmly. "I'm so angry."

"You can be angry," Eddie says softly.

The sun is rising by the time Steve stops crying. Eddie is tired from standing, but he'd stay here for days for him. Steve leaves his face buried in Eddie's belly for a little while as he catches his breath, and Eddie combs through his hair softly, holding him, loving him. When Steve finally pulls away, his eyes are wide.

"My heart," he says breathlessly. Eddie's stomach falls, and he lowers himself to kneel on the floor in front of Steve. "'S beating too-- 'S beating too fast."

"You're okay," Eddie says softly, taking Steve's hand. It's shaking almost violently, and Eddie holds it tightly. "You're okay."

"Heart attack," Steve says, his chest rising and falling quickly, his eyes flicking back and forth between Eddie's. "I'm--"

"You're not having a heart attack," Eddie says calmly, leaning close to look into his eyes, squeezing his hand before he holds it to his own chest. "You're having a panic attack. You're okay."

"Eddie, I'm-- I'm gonna die," Steve chokes, his voice slurred with panic, his words muddled together. Eddie blinks tears back, staying calm for him, and he shakes his head.

"You're not dying, my love," he says slowly. He reaches a hand up and pushes his fingers into Steve's hair, pulling it gently. "Take a deep breath for me."

Steve tries, but he's hyperventilating, his eyes wide and crying, looking desperately at Eddie, who nods, taking a deep breath himself, exaggerating the rise and fall of his chest, holding Steve's hand to it.

"You're okay," Eddie says. "Your heart is okay."

"'M angry," Steve says weakly, breathlessly.

"You can be angry," Eddie says calmly. "Your heart is okay, even if you're angry." He takes another breath, and Steve follows along, even though his breath catches and stutters and he gasps as Eddie is still exhaling. "You're not your father, Steve," Eddie says softly. "You're nothing like him."

"Eddie," Steve whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut, pressing his hand against Eddie's chest harder, his other hand gripping Eddie's forearm. "Please."

"I'm right here, baby," Eddie murmurs. "Take a deep breath for me."

Steve tries again.

"There you go," Eddie whispers. "You're okay."

"'M okay," Steve mumbles weakly.

"That's right, Stevie, you're okay. Deep breath, all the way in, all the way out."

Steve tries again.

And again.

And again.

Steve falls against Eddie when he finally gets a clear breath, like the exhale deflates him, and Eddie wraps his arms around him tightly. He's trembling, like he's freezing.

"I love you so much," Eddie murmurs in his ear. "You did so good, baby."

Steve whimpers. He's crying again. Eddie combs through his hair and keeps murmuring to him softly.

When he stops crying, Eddie carefully shifts to hold his head between his hands, and he presses kisses across his face, even though his skin is covered with tears, and his nose is running. He kisses over his forehead, and the bridge of his nose, and his cheeks, and his eyelids, and his lips, and his chin, and across his jaw and down his neck, all the while whispering to him.

I love you so much, Stevie. You did such a good job. You're okay, sweetheart.

When Steve opens his eyes, there's a soft sort of absence in them that only gets there after particularly bad nightmares. (The ones where Eddie doesn't make it.) Eddie lowers back to the floor, looking up into his eyes, and he runs his thumbs over his cheeks softly. Steve squeezes his wrist weakly, exhausted.

Eddie gets him a glass of water and stands next to him as he sips it slowly, running his hands through his hair, closing his eyes when Steve leans against him. It takes a while for Steve to finish it, but Eddie waits patiently, knowing the glass is heavy in his hand, knowing Steve wants to disappear right now. When he finishes the water, Eddie sits back in the chair in front of him, holding both his hands tightly. Steve is slouching over, looking at their hands. Eddie squeezes.

"Stevie," he whispers.

"Yeah," Steve breathes.

"Look at me for a minute."

Steve's eyes raise to his. They're glassy, shining brightly, and Eddie's chest hurts.

"It's okay to be angry," he says softly, intentionally and carefully. "And it's okay to cry. And there's nothing wrong with anything you're feeling. You understand me?"

"I don't wanna be angry," Steve says weakly, his voice small. "'M tired of being angry. I don't wanna turn into him."

"Steve," Eddie whispers. "You are nothing like him." He reaches a hand to Steve's chest and holds it there. "You have... the purest heart out of anyone I know," he says gently. "You would never do any of the things he did to you."

"I know," Steve breathes, but he doesn't seem to believe him.

"Do you trust me?" Eddie asks. Steve nods without hesitation. "Will you believe what I tell you?"

Steve stares into his eyes, now clutching Eddie's hand in both of his.

"...Okay."

"You have a beautiful soul," Eddie whispers. "And I trust you," he adds, raising his eyebrows, watching Steve's lips curve into the smallest smile Eddie's ever seen. The morning sunlight is shining on him now. He looks like an angel, his messy hair glowing in a golden halo. "You are a good, good man," Eddie says softly. "And I will remind you as many times as you need, I will remind you with every fucking beat of my heart, that you are a good man."

Steve's lip quivers again, and he closes his eyes like he's absorbing the words. A tear slides down his cheek. Eddie wipes it away tenderly.

"I love you so fucking much, Stevie."

"I love you too," Steve gasps, taking a hiccuping breath, but he exhales smoothly, blowing the air out so it blows Eddie's hair.

"Let's go to bed," Eddie murmurs.

"Okay."

Eddie leads him down the creaky hallway, holding his hand, after pouring him more water to drink. Steve gets in bed while Eddie pulls the curtains together more to block the sunlight, and then he crawls into bed too, already holding his arms out for Steve to lie in. He closes his eyes, pressing his face into Steve's hair, running his fingers through it when he feels him crying again.

He doesn't drift off until he knows Steve is asleep, when Steve is heavy against him, relaxed and breathing evenly, slowly.

Instead of going to the funeral, which his mother calls about the next week, Steve stays home with Eddie and watches a movie. Steve starts to cry halfway through it, wracked by guilt and fear and anger, and Eddie just wraps an arm around him silently, pulling him close and pressing a kiss to his cheek. Steve smiles the next day, light on his feet and bright in a way Eddie's never seen, and through all the years Eddie's known Steve, he's known about his father, but he realises after the funeral is done with that he never really knew the extent of it. Because after the funeral is done, Steve never has to worry about anything to do with his father again. And his eyes shine brightly, and Eddie thinks there might be a whole galaxy behind him that Eddie still hasn't explored.

Steve still gets angry sometimes, but that's okay. Because his father's face is fading from his memory, and his mother never calls him again. And Eddie reminds him as often as he can that he loves him, that he trusts him, that he's pure and beautiful and has a heart of gold. That he's okay, that he's good.

After his father dies, Steve never dreams about him again.

[biblooky]

I am so behind on hermitcraft, especially with how many pov's I watch and I'm trying to catch up on it all and it is getting overwhelming but I want to be up to date again 😭😭

[oneluckydragon]

Decided to finally give Explorers of the Spirit a play-through!

I took the liberty of editing both Echo and Sora using SkyTemple (and editing sprites for them), so that I could experience the game perfectly for the first time.

I am so excited to experience this romhack, especially since everyone that has recommended it seems to absolutely love the story. I'll probably be a crying mess at the end. We'll see if I can manage to tough through it all and come out in one piece (who am I kidding? I will cry, I know it).

(possible EOTS spoiler warning below)

Another reason that I am extremely excited is because I heard that this game was influenced by the Hero/Darkrai fan theory (though it may not be exactly the same?)

So obviously I had to tweak Echo's moveset a little and give her both the move Dark Void and also the secondary ability Bad Dreams. For the theme, ya know? I need the maximum amount of angst possible. I wanna suffer emotionally.

Anyway. This is gonna be fun <3

[noodleblade]

tonight i finally read this fic after a year

[crybaby-bkg]

sorry I’ve been on such a Dabi high lately but I almost croaked earlier at the thought of being his college gf and just being so opposite of each other!!!!!! you’re all good grades and perfect attendance, easily approachable and sweet smiles. and he’s all grumpy faced and dark clothing, makes people nervous whenever he stands outside smoking right by the doors.

who the hell would’ve thought you two would end up together? it just didn’t make a lick of sense seeing you two from the outside. but when they get a glimpse of you guys together, alone, everything just falls into place.

he’s so supportive of everything you do, no matter how dumb or nerdy he thinks it is. he keeps count of your stitches for you when you crotchet, doesn’t mind being your model for a cropped hot pink sweater you’re creating, wears the knitted beanie around campus that you made for him. he hates not having your attention but he takes some of the same classes you take so that he can help you study, quiz you when you’re not too sure of the subject, maybe even help you cheat if you want (you don’t, but he always offers).

he buys you your favorite drink at the cafes and always carries an extra laptop charger in case you forget. he helps you pick out your outfits when you’re unsure, and loves the opposite aesthetic whenever you stand hand in hand with him. he praises you when you succeed, and comforts you with your failures. he looks like a dirtbag that hangs around campus to be a creepy bum, but he’s there for you through and through <3

[cicaklah]

i've got a job interview tomorrow morning which in hindsight is my own fault for scheduling it then but it means i've had to look at a model instead of writing more fanfiction.

[wikiangela]

🦵🦵for the make me write please? 💞🦛

6 sentences of the leg pain fic!

His hands are so big, his fingers thick and calloused, but they feel so soft and gentle on Buck’s skin. His fingers move over his skin, firmly but tenderly kneading the flesh, as he constantly watches Buck’s face for any sign of discomfort. And, wow, he really is good with his hands. It feels so good, Buck melts against the pillows, not even paying attention to the movie, it’s more like a background noise, as he watches Tommy – his focused expression, his big hands moving over his leg expertly, with such love and care, the feeling of his warm skin on Buck’s. There are a few moments he presses the wrong spot a little too hard, and Buck hisses in pain, but he quickly learns to be a bit gentler there, unnecessarily apologizing – after all, they’re learning together, getting to know all those things about each other, making an effort. And this is more effort than Buck would ever expect.

tagging others who were interested: @bidisasterevankinard @theotherbuckley @jewishbuckley @steadfastsaturnsrings @hippolotamus

[youjustfeelthemforever]

the conses... they be quencing... who could have foreseen this <- promised to write and now has to actually write