#fic: something’s in your eyes

[gingerpeachtea]

tell me more about something’s in your eyes??:)

(wip list game!)

BITCHHHH I LITERALLY LOOKEF AT THIS ASK LIKE THE WENDY WILLIAMS GIF LEMME FIND IT

YEAHHHHHH BABYYYYYY okay i can’t give you any excerpts bc i feel like i’ve already posted so many and also every line is a spoiler at this point 😭😭 but i would LOVE to talk about it so here we go!!!!

it might end up being my longest posted fic but i’m not sure yet; we’re teetering on the edge of 4k (3,853 words currently) with multiple scenes (…/flashbacks Smirk Emoji) left to write. but also take that number with a grain of salt bc i do this insane thing when writing where if i think of an alternate phrasing for something i just. put it right next to the original. or if i need to rework a paragraph i’ll copy and paste it and rework it directly below the original so i can compare them side by side. my current longest posted fic is lose your faith in me with 4.3k so maybe it’ll be longer than that !! :3

this fic drives me INSANEEEEEEEEEEE every time i read it. truly am NEVERRRR going to shut up about it once it’s posted. idk when that will be but it WILL happen eventually I SWEAR. u know how i go fucking insane every time i read that line from when memories snow “let me take you home on my lunch break. please.” yeah i have that reaction to at least one line every paragraph. bitch it’s INSANE.

here are the tags >:3

i forget this fic was infiltrated by my polyland insanity brain worms every single time without fail and then i’ll read a line and be like OMG??????? as if i didn’t literally write it

genuinely i have never edited a fic as much as i’ve edited this one. i think this fic is… two years in the making as of 2025? probably technically 1 1/2 or something but i don’t remember when i started it so🧚

i feel like the tags don’t necessarily give an indication of the plot but idk how much of the plot i wanna give away 👀 i might’ve talked about it before but i’m not sure??

mike punches someone (not briggs). i think that’s all i’ll say for now >:]

not important but the jakes inclusion in this fic is very much why is hoseok da bus driver all of da sudden sorry jakes stans (me and maybe 2 other people on planet earth. shoutout to those 2 other crazy bitches tho‼️‼️)

this fic is entirely about mike’s trauma and i’ve actually been struggling to balance how much of paul’s trauma to include (considering it’s so similar and mikebriggs cycles narrative foils etc etc you understand). there are lines that Hint at the backstories and the effects of canon events on other characters, but it all varies based on mike’s heavily limited perspective and what i think he realistically wouldn’t or wouldn’t be privy to. a good example of this is this moment from somewhere in the haze:

the context, of course, is charlie seeing mike and thinking of finding whistler dead on the bathroom floor. i thought that this was something briggs knew about and mike didn’t, not sure if that’s actually true in canon but even if not, briggs having been there with charlie when it happened would be able to immediately make that connection and know where charlie’s mind had gone.

of course, the hints in something’s in your eyes are certainly not as heavy-handed, where it is directly pointed out that there is something mike is “on the outskirts of”—the fic is quite literally about secrets. it is also not so easily resolved as this particular example is, where charlie tells mike in the last scene the context for her reaction. many things are instead left unsaid because. y’know. secrets. >:)

the particular example of this i’m thinking of in siye is actually about jakes. goddd there’s this one jakesbriggs moment where…no……i shan’t say. it’s literally the only jb moment in the entire fic and it’s like five words total probably but bitchhhhh u gotta pick up what im putting down!!! the Context… coconut tree etc etc… u gotta Think it’s a Thinker. thinkerbell? i’m tired

i use the tiny moments of info that mike is or isn’t privy to in order to show the closeness of the polycule and show how open other characters (cough cough johnny and charlie cough cough!!!) are in comparison to mike’s repressed ass. lowkey one of those things i didn’t even realize i did until i read it back and was like WTF!!!! I DID THAT

every time i write for this fic i feel like the fucking horse post!!!!! this one!!!!!! EVERY TIME!!!!!!

okay i’ve said. a lot i think maybe. hope u all enjoyed <3 SO FUCKING EXCITED FOR THIS FIC!!!!!!!!!!!!

(fun fact i had to go back and add the link to the wip list game after writing this entire post bc i got so excited to talk abt this fic i just swan dived right into it)

[bleedingoptimism]

It’s a little after eleven when Eddie finally manages to get Tarja to bed. It’s hard for her without her plushie. And really, Eddie is very thankful having a hyper-fixation with her toy seems to be the only ‘consequence’ of having divorced parents Tarja seems to have right now. He always worries if having two homes and constantly moving between them is good for her or not. Especially with Tommy being Tarja’s other dad, but against all odds, he’s good to her. So their kid is doing just fine. She’s happy. And if she’s happy, Eddie is happy.

He’s getting ready to open a beer and relax when there’s a knock on the door. He smiles, assuming is Steve bringing Toothless over and almost knocks his beer to the floor when he opens the door.

Steve looks… well he looks amazing, dressed to the nines. Must’ve been date night. But his eyes are red and puffy, his face covered in dark blotches, and his lips are swollen like he’s been biting them too much.

He’s hugging Toothless to his chest and he smiles at Eddie when he sees him, but he looks so sad it breaks his heart.

Eddie throws the beer behind him, sure it will land on the couch and cradles Steve’s face between his hands, “What did that asshole do?

Steve leans into his touch and shuts his eyes for a moment before sighing and stepping away from him, walking inside and sitting on the couch still holding Toothless like a lifeline. 

“Nothing, he was just-” Steve shakes his head and chuckles darkly, “He’s just so mean,” 

Eddie drops to his knees in front of him and dips his head to look Steve in the eye just like he did that day in the park.

“Break up with him,” he says.

“I can’t.”

“Tommy doesn't deserve you, Steve. You are worth so much more than what that asshole makes you feel. You deserve better. More. Everything,” Eddie pleads, placing his hands on Steve’s knees and squeezing, “If it’s because of Tarja, we’ll figure something out, ok? Lots of people keep in contact with their parent’s significant other after they break up” He rushes, the speech he didn't have quite prepared last week coming out of him in a single breath, “We are friends, right? So you can still visit and see her. Visit me. You don’t have to stop being a part of our lives.” 

Steve is staring at him right now like Eddie just gifted him the moon and he’s so beautiful it’s kind of hard for Eddie to keep eye contact, but he squeezes Steve’s knees again to ground himself and does. Steve needs to know he’s very serious about this. About him.

Eyes shining, Steve takes a deep breath and nods slowly, a tear falling down his cheek that Eddie follows with his eyes and watches until it hides under Steve’s v-neck shirt.

“Hey, even I didn’t put up with Tommy's shit for Tarja’s sake and I birthed her,” he jokes awkwardly, trying to make him laugh and feels like doing a little victory dance when Steve snorts cutely,

“Okay,” he hiccups.

“Yeah?” Eddie smiles back at him, relieved.

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, “Fuck Tommy.” And drops back on the couch, looking exhausted, “Can I stay here tonight?” he asks in a whisper, like he’s afraid Eddie will say no. As if.

“Yeah, of course,” Is what he answers, and has half a mind to invite him into his bed but knows it’s a terrible idea. So he lends Steve his favorite flannel pajamas and sets blankets and a pillow on the couch and they say their goodnights.

And if he does a little dance when he closes the door to his room, no one is there to see.

In the morning, Steve stays for breakfast. And attempts to kill Eddie by making his heart explode, cooking it himself from scratch with Tarja’s help, who is so happy she won’t stop running around the kitchen making Toothless fly and sing about ‘happy family breakfast time’.

It’s actually hard to tell if she’s happier to have her plushie back or that Steve is there. Eddie, on the other hand, knows exactly what he’s happiest about. Death by tenderness. Is that a thing? He amuses himself thinking about a couple csi’s with sunglasses saying it, 

“He died because he witnessed something too cute,”

“Ah yes, death by fondness. I’ve seen it before.”

After, Eddie walks him to the door and Steve smiles sweetly at him, and holds his hand, squeezing it once before letting go, “Well, see you. I guess,” he says bashfully and there’s a moment there, a second where time stops and Eddie thinks he should kiss him. Wants to kiss him, needs to kiss him.

But he doesn’t. Because Steve is still dating Tommy, and just because he said he was going to break up with him doesn’t mean he wants to start something new with Eddie.

Eddie himself called him his friend for the first time last night for christ sake. ‘Fucking chill’ he thinks to himself.

🧸

And then a week goes by without hearing a word from Steve. But Eddie doesn't hold it against him.

At first, he figures he needs time to think but then he starts to wonder if he really is going to break up with Tommy. Four days in, he gets paranoid about it. Maybe Steve got brainwashed into thinking Eddie is bad for him. Maybe Tommy told him Eddie was putting ideas in his head, that he shouldn’t talk to him anymore… With him telling Steve to break up with his boyfriend and all... 

He’s well aware of how manipulative Tommy can be and has seen the way he belittles Steve to keep him around, so he knows it’ll be hard for Steve to actually go through with it.

And he can’t exactly show up at Tommy’s and steal Steve away, no matter how appealing the idea might be. The only thing he can do is just think of Steve, wish him well, and send him strength to do what he needs to do. At the end of the day, it needs to be his decision. His choice.

As Tommy’s week with Tarja approaches he starts getting more and more anxious, wondering if it’ll be Steve or Tommy who picks her up.

When the day finally arrives, and the doorbell rings, Tarja runs to open the door and Eddie peeks his head through the hallway.

“Daddy!” Tarja screams.

“Hey, Tata! You ready?” Tommy says and Eddie steps into the hall to greet him too.

“Not yet!” Tarja chuckles and Tommy smiles at her,

“Okay, go get ready. I’ll wait here,”

Eddie walks to the door and leans on the doorframe, “Hey,”

“Hi. Long time no see,” Tommy says and then adds, “You look great,”

“You don’t,” Eddie answers, because it’s true. He looks like shit. Greasy hair, bags under his eyes, chapped lips, wrinkles on his clothes, “What happened?”

“Steve broke up with me.” 

Eddie’s eyes go wide and he smiles, he doesn’t even try to hide it, “He did?”

“Don’t smile, fucker,” Tommy says but there’s no heat behind it. He knows he deserves it.

“Sorry,” Eddie says, not sorry at all.

“Stop,” Tommy whines because Eddie’s smile is actually getting bigger,

“Sorry,” he repeats and then clears his throat, “Did he tell you why?”

“Because I’m a horrible person,” Tommy groans.

“Hey, the first step is to ad-”

“To admit it, yeah, yeah. I know” Tommy interrupts him, groaning again.

Eddie sighs, and punches Tommy’s shoulder lightly, “Look, Tommy, I’m just going to say this because, well… you are pathetic. You need to do better.” And then he points to his back, to where Tarja’s disappeared to get her stuff, “She’s going to grow up and realize you are an awful person and she’s not going to want you in her life. And I’m not going to dissuade her from it, because I already don’t want you to be in mine, you know that, right?”

Tommy looks at him seriously and then nods once, fast and hard. Like he gets it. Like he agrees and is determined to change. And Eddie hopes for Tarja’s sake he is. But knows, deep in his heart, that either way, she’s going to be fine.

“Also, just a heads up. I’m in love with Steve and I’m going to ask him out,” he adds in a rush when he hears Tarja running up behind him.

“You are shitting me,” Tommy whispers, shocked and clenching his teeth.

Eddie laughs, “Nope,” he says, closing his lips loudly around the P.

“Eddie,” Tommy warns him like he’s waiting for Eddie to say he's joking.

“What? I hear he’s single,” Eddie smirks.

“You motherfuc- Hey Tata!” Gathering Tarja in his arms, Tommy drops the subject but he glares at Eddie as he kisses Tarja’s cheek goodbye and murmurs ‘unbelievable’ as he’s leaving. Eddie closes the door and starts laughing at the look on Tommy’s face.

He needs to call Steve.

He tries a couple of times but he doesn’t pick up and he starts worrying Steve might not actually want to talk to him, and then there’s a knock on the door but Eddie, too preoccupied with his anxiety, opens without looking, thinking Tarja forgot something.

When he doesn't hear her, Eddie looks up from his ‘ignored calls’ screen to see nonother than Steve standing there, looking nervous and like a fucking dream with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. A fucking bouquet of flowers. For him. For Eddie. All different shades of red, because he knows is his favorite color.

Eddie just blinks at him a couple of times and Steve flushes even more and drops the hand holding up the flowers, scratches the back of his neck nervously, “This was stupid, the flowers were fucking stupid. They are stupid. I’m stupid, right?”

A laugh bubbles out of Eddie and he grabs him by the scruff of his shirt and pulls him inside. He closes the door once they are both in and slams Steve against it, crushing their lips together. Steve circles his arms around Eddie and holds him close, instantly returning the kiss with fervor. 

They kiss as if it were fate. They kiss until it's hard to breathe and Eddie pulls away only to kiss him again, and again, and again.

“Not stupid,” he murmurs between kisses and feels Steve’s smile against his lips.

Eventually, Eddie takes a step back and lets Steve into his home properly, “Hi,” he says cheesily.

“Hi,” Steve says back grinning, then he lifts up the bouquet again, which is now completely ruined by him still holding it strongly while they made out like crazy, and his smile drops,

“Shit,” he pouts cutely, god Eddie wants to eat him. He laughs and takes the flowers anyway, putting them in an empty glass bottle, because he doesn’t own a flower vase, because he’s a normal human being. ‘Who the fuck owns a flower vase?’

“Come here,” he says, holding out both hands for Steve to take and follow him.

Steve takes his hands but doesn't move, instead swings them from side to side, “Wait, let's talk,”

Fuck, yeah. They should. That’s a good idea. Fuck. Damn, Steven Whatever-The-Fuck-Is-His-Middle-Name Harrington and his sensible and very logical choice…

Eddie huffs exaggeratedly making Steve chuckle and redirects them to the couch, where they sit still holding hands, “Alas,” he says dramatically, “You are right, we should talk. I actually wanted to ask you out properly, not debauch you the second you walked through the door. Sorry about that” he lies, not sorry at all, again.

Steve blushes and smiles, drawing little circles with his thumbs on Eddie’s hands, “Yeah me too. I wanna do this right. Ask you out. Go on dates. I think we should take this slow,”

Eddie makes a face and groans at that. He doesn't want to take it slow. He wants Steve to move in right now or something. Steve rolls his eyes amused at his interruption and keeps going,

“I came here to ask you out the right way because I want you to know I’m committed. But we should think about how this will affect Tarja… and Tommy too. We should go out a few times, spend some time alone, and I want you to meet my friends and my parents and I want to meet your friends and your uncle too and just do this properly and-”

Eddie interrupts him with a kiss, he can’t take it anymore, he’s been dying to kiss Steve for months now and he’s so sweet and thoughtful it makes Eddie insane, makes him feel like he needs to ruin him, but in a nice way, like with devotion and love.

Steve lets go of his hands to wrap his arms around Eddie’s waist and hoists him until he’s straddling Steve. Eddie leans his elbows on Steve’s shoulders, and buries his hands in his hair, pulling and messing with it.

“Okay but have you considered having hard, hot, wet sex, and then maybe we do what you said?” He asks panting against Steve’s lips and actually feeling how that punches the air out of him.

He hugs Eddie closer to his chest and whines, “Yeah okay, we can do it your way,” and gets up, lifting Eddie with him as if he were weightless. Eddie squawks and laughs all the way to his room.

🧸

They spend the week together, talking, eating, drinking, laughing and fucking. Except it’s more than that because when Eddie is inside Steve, with his tongue, his fingers, or his strap, it feels like more. It feels like love. Like fate.

Steve, still determined to take things slow, doesn’t stay there all the time, going back to Robin’s where he moved back to after breaking up with Tommy. He actually brings her over one day and the three of them spend the afternoon together. Eddie decides they are going to be best friends immediately because Robin is hilarious and merciless. When Steve gets back the next day he kisses Eddie so good and hard his knees almost give out on him and tells him he has Robin’s seal of approval. Something he knows Tommy never got.

When the week passes Eddie says goodbye theatrically as if they were cross-star lovers in a bad soap opera and Steve chuckles and calls him ridiculous but kisses him so passionately that Eddie drags him right back inside and they say goodbye again a few hours later.

They had decided to wait until Eddie talked to Tarja about her feelings over Tommy’s and Steve’s breakup and whether she still wanted Steve around or not before having him over again.

But when Tarja gets back home she’s gloomy and silent. She hugs Eddie in greeting when she arrives and then spends the rest of the day lying face down on the floor and occasionally sighing loudly, obviously trying to make Eddie ask her what’s wrong.

And really, Eddie shouldn't find it as funny as he does, but he thinks about calling Wayne and telling him he gets it now when Wayne used to tell him he had too much personality.

Eventually, he lies on the floor next to her and asks. Tarja looks at him with big sad eyes and says, “I haven't seen Steve in a million years! And Daddy said he is not his boyfriend anymore! So I’ll never see him again and I miss him”

Eddie coos at her, “I’m sorry you miss him little dragon, but you can totally see him again! Would you like me to call him? Since he’s my friend too?” Already trying to strategize on how to tell her they are more than friends.

Tarja lights up and jumps off the floor and onto Eddie, punching the breath out of him, “Yes! Yes! Call Steve! Steve smiles more when he’s with you than he did with daddy anyway. Why don’t you boyfriend him instead?”

Well… that was easy.

He chuckles and shakes his head, “That’s a great idea sweety, go grab my phone,”

Tarja runs and grabs Eddie’s phone off the table and hands it to him, he doesn’t bother getting off the floor so she kneels beside him listening attentively as he dials Steve’s number. 

“Hi, handsome, you talked with Tarja already?” Steve greets him after it rings twice.

“Yeah about that, turns out Tarja talked to me, actually,” he chuckles, “Hi, by the way”

“Hi,” Steve repeats lovingly and laughs, “What do you mean?”

“She had this awesome idea!” he says winking at her and she covers her mouth with her tiny hands to hide her giggles, “That, since you are not with Tommy anymore, you should be my boyfriend instead,” he continues, voice going soft and chuckles when he hears Steve's breathless ‘oh’ on the other side of the line, “Come over?”

“Of course, gimme an hour? I'm with a client” Steve hums and Eddie whispers he’ll give him anything he asks for and hangs up.

An hour later Tarja is still lying on the floor, only now it’s with papers and crayons spread all around her when the doorbell rings. She looks up at Eddie excitedly and he nods at her, “Go on then”

Tarja runs to the door and opens it wide to reveal Steve standing there as beautiful as ever, giving Eddie a deja vu of the first time he saw him.

“Papa Steve!” Tarja yells and jumps up to hug him.

Steve gasps and falls to his knees with her in his arms and looks up at Eddie with shocked wet eyes.

‘So much for taking it slow,’ Eddie thinks with a smirk.

Fin.

☝️first part

☕🥐💕?

[uhohdad]

Do you think you can do a version of stalker konig that's harmless and sweet? Like he secretly watches you and just keeps you safe- eventually you find out about it but you don't mind cause you feel so comfortable in his presence and can tell he's just a lil weird likes you :")

Idk I'm jus getting tired of the abusive stuff everywhere man ;;

I would absolutely consider this sometime in the future, just looking to get through TGWCM before I dig into any big projects. In the meantime, here are a few things I’ve written that might scratch your itch if you haven’t already read them:

TGWCM [A HUNGER GAMES AU] - Outcast!Konig’s not a ‘stalker’ per se, but it’s a long-form (85k word count) slow burn where he pines for Reader heavily, and he keeps Reader out of trouble a lot. Reader finds immense comfort from him throughout the story, he’s a gentle giant but still does whatever it takes to protect Reader. Features an 11k word smut scene. 👀 Lots of bonus content and drabbles for this one as well.

Somethings Borrowed - Non-Abusive Stalker!Konig steals some of your things :)

Loser!Konig Headcannons - Harmless weirdo energy for sure (definitely will be doing more of these in the very near future)

My tastes vary. I have been known to dabble in both fluff & abuse, my works often reflect my own sexual/emotional desires at the time. I hope these fics help & I apologize if things haven’t been up to your tastes lately! Kids, feel free to help our friend here out by recommending some more fics below :)

[al-luviec]

I got so insanely mad while drawing this

+ closeup and normalness

[nart-is-a-monster]

Ok now, since my tablet seems to be an absolute failure in uploading things and most of the times something goes wrong with either the wifi or Tumblr itself

ITS DONE!!!!

:3333

And also green in several places ¡For reasons!

AND HERE'S THE LINK OF THE FIC 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

And also go and give some love to @aziraphalesbookkeeper bc she wrote the thing

Close-ups 🗣️

[generic-sonic-fan]

Metal Sonic being voiceless and that being played for the horror, but less in the way of "he doesn't physically have a voice box" and more in the sense that he's voiceless metaphorically.

Not only does he not possess the voice box, but he doesn't have any tools to communicate. He's never offered pen and paper. Never given the opportunity to write digital reports except with only the briefest of words. Never taught even a scrap of sign language, as crude as such a communication would be due to his lack of facial features.

If you handed him a speech generating device, would he even know what to do with it?

[dlldior]

tiktok fans read the caption challenge! (impossible almost 99% WILL fail)

[bietrofastimoff23]

"I can′t believe that it's finally me and you, and you and me, just us...

- and your BIG EGO."

i came across the reels "when you date a narcissist" in inst, and i realized that i need to draw it with gwaynston.

[fireflylitsky]

MASSIVE thank you to @moonamayillu for drawing my sweeties SO beautifully, I cannot stop swooning over how pretty this is 😭😍

Flustering this girl is basically Hidan's hobby. He's very good at it.

[phoenixcatch7]

Identity reveal shazamily fic idea:

They're fighting some big bad in a huge cave or throne room or in an air pocket miles underwater (the Rock?) and the league and shazamily are all there, every two stuck in separate areas (magic barriers? Cave ins? Enemies simply not letting them close?).

The roof is starting to collapse. Billy catches it, but with his powers divided, he's struggling. With a time limit before he falls, the battle intensifies.

Mary and her jl partner fells her opponent first, and looks across the room just in time to see him stagger under the crushing weight. She cannot reach him (in time?). They meet each others eyes. The wisdom of Solomon, or perhaps Mary batson, has an idea.

In a crash of thunder, she detransforms, in front of their enemies, and the entire justice league.

With power returned, captain marvel stands a bit straighter. The roof grows heavier. Cracks scatter across the high ceiling.

As Mary is carried to safety, the family understands what they must do.

In conjunction with the league member they were trapped with, they work to defeat their opponents, and one by one transform, each time revealing people too small, too young. The crash of thunder marks each victory. Rubble starts to fall and shake the earth as the league members pull their partners to safety, gathering together by the entrance, bandaging their wounds. All eyes are on Marvel, trapped under a great pillar of stone. (They have been working with him for years now, but each of his family has been revealed to be children. Is he, too?) Each time he raises the ceiling a little higher, and each time it grows heavier as the battles and the ticking clock destabilise the thousands of tons above.

At last, the final group win, and exhausted league members piggy back the last child hero over the rubble.

All are evacuated, but Marvel cannot move. Rapid power transfer and hours of stress have taken their toll, and he needs to transform back as well.

Finally, finally, green lantern and superman reach him, and with their help he is freed, collapsing to the side in relief. No one says a word.

With one final lightning strike, the last member of the team is revealed.

He's twelve years old.

And the league needs to take them all to safety.

[doodlinge]

(throws this at you and scurries away)

[triglycercule]

dust and horror angel and demon themes,,,, they could totally parallel each other...... :3

dust=angel of death described in the delta rune prophecy (self declared) (i DEFINITELY elaborated on this one waayyyy before but anyways dust with a fucked up savior complex SAVE ME SAVE ME.... death is a blessing ass guy. life is torment and he will be the one to liberate monsters from their bodies and with the strength they provide to him be able to take down evil evil creation of pure misery that is the human ✨✨✨ dont worry his evil cackles are to HIDE HIS PAIN of saving everyone....... trust)

horror=demon that dragged everyone in horrortale into hell (as perceived by everyone else) (i think it would be a cool hc if everyone outside of snowdin viewed horror as literally a demon. maybe undyne preaches that. anyone outside of snowdin might be WAYYY worse because they starve for longer and literally take part in cannibalism so they might not have the same sort of mild sanity that snowdin residents do,,,, besides he DID kinda bring them all eternal suffering. kinda. nobody but undyne knows what happened at the core so she could totally just paint the story to blame horror fully)

ANYWAYS i like the possible dynamics this could have :333

dust to horror (please let me kill you PLEASE let me kill you i can end it all so peacefully wouldn't it be nice??? i promise ill make it quick just for you),,, horror to dust (i want you to live and suffer with what youve done i want you to watch all of your choices hit you one day and i'll be there and laugh at you. i'll keep you alive just to keep you suffering ok?)

OR dust to horror (you dont deserve to die you dont deserve to even be hurt by me. not because youre the exception but youre the Exception i absolutely loathe you so youll never get the sweet release of death :3) and horror to dust (just let me die already i dont wanna be here. youre supposed to be a savior right??? an angel?? then why don't you save me already when i need it more than anyone else)

[milolovesbmc]

I've pretty much never written anything like this before, but it was actually really fun and here's to hoping it's good because I can't really tell........ Anyways here's some art for it, fic under the cut!! :)

Twenty-eight: Storm

The kids are 28

Sometimes Doug has to sit on the roof.

He sits hunched over with his knees tucked tight between his arms. He covers his eyes with his hands and pressures until there's black spots blocking his vision. He presses on both of them, even though he doesn't have two eyes to feel the pressure on. Pressing his left one, the eye socket, feels especially nice, it makes him feel dizzy.

It's not like when he was eight and fantasized about climbing on the roof. He used to picture himself standing on the very edge, putting his faith in the hands of the statues, hoping the angels would push him off.

It doesn't give him a rush. Sometimes he just needs to breathe and the roof of his house is the only place where he actually can.

Mainly because it's not his house.

He's dating this girl, Elaine.

She moved in two (or was it three?) years ago. He remembers the day she did, it was Monday. Doug took the day off from whatever shitty job he had back then to help her move.

He kind of wishes he hadn't. She barged into his house, with the trunk of her car full of boxes and her hair tied up, claiming as much territory as she liked. He could only step back and watch. He had this feeling, deep in his gut, like something was wrong. Or missing. He wonders if that's how Corey felt.

It wasn't her assertiveness he minded. He liked that she knew what she wanted. He needed to be pushed around and roughed up. But watching her spread her belongings around his place just felt intrusive.

He feels a drop of water fall on his face, and then another. It's starting to rain.

In retrospect, he should've known, the sky had been grey all day. He's wearing a shirt and some sweatpants that will definitely get soaked in a matter of seconds. He still doesn't move from his spot on the roof.

It's times like these Doug wishes he had something to do with his hands, instead of just letting his mind wander. Maybe, Corey was onto something with the whole smoking thing. He used to say it calmed him down. Doug just liked the smell, the way it would cling into his clothes and stay there for what felt like forever.

It's not like he had been enabling Corey's smoking. Doug would go quiet and stare whenever he'd take a cigarette between his fingers. Corey never seemed to care. Somehow it would always end with both of them sitting closer than they were before and Doug blowing smoke out of his mouth.

At some point he had started lighting his best friend's cigarettes for him. Their weird kind of ritual stayed mostly the same, except this time around he was needed. Corey would look at him, holding a cigarette, practically boring his eyes into him, waiting for him to notice. Doug would wait until he got impatient and subtly rolled his eyes before scurrying to give him what he wanted.

Right now he misses the warmth and the weak flame that would light up part of Corey's face. He felt warm to Doug.

His hands were always freshly scrubbed clean, to the point of the skin looking raw. He remembers when Corey first touched him and poked at his wound. The momentary sharp pain when he picked the gravel out of his palms. His hands pressing into Doug's, cold spreading from one's hands to the other's. It was the kind of freezing cold that when stuck to your skin for a while, it almost felt warm.

Every time Corey would touch him, touch his scars and wounds and cuts, it felt ice cold for a minute, and then it was warm. A warmth that would get into his veins and make him feel like everything inside him had been shaken up.

It's raining even more now, it doesn't seem like it's going to stop anytime soon. He's soaked and the water's dripping down his face.

He wipes it off with the back of his hand.

The last time Doug saw him, Corey said he was dating some guy. Some asshole that wrecked his car and didn't even attend his father's funeral. Worst of all, he was living with the guy.

Who's freaked out by a dead body anyways? What a pussy.

It freaks him out, knowing he has settled down, left Doug behind. Corey used to need him. All those years ago.

This guy doesn't care about Corey like he does.

He would do anything he asked him to. He'd light his cigarettes even if it meant breathing the smoke in and feeling it scratch down his throat. He needs it.

Did Corey ever actually need him? Doug's not the only guy with a lighter in his pocket and the willingness to breath in.

He spins the shiny new ring on his finger until it's loose. Then he puts it back on again.

It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter because Doug is getting married, to his girlfriend. He has settled down. He has settled down even more than Corey had. Who cares about what's-his-name and his stupid fear of funerals. He's getting married.

He sent Corey an invitation. A neat white card with both their and Elaine's name on it. Sent the night before, at three in the morning, not before he had emptied two cans of beer and almost half a bottle of pain meds.

It was stupid, Doug doesn't want him to come. He was just bleary from the pills. The last time he saw him, Corey made it clear he didn't care. He didn't care that Doug was in pain and he didn't care to mend his wounds.

He wouldn't have needed to take the pills back then if only he would've helped. He wouldn't need them now. It's like he wants him to be in pain. Wants to watch him suffer and whine and beg, trying to make his way into his hands, or arms, or anything.

The sky rumbles, the rain is pouring down even harder now, and the clouds are a dark grey.

He wants Corey to come to his wedding. Maybe his mere presence will make the pain go away. Maybe if he could have him again, just once. Maybe if he could just feel the warmth reaching out to him. Softening the sharp edges of his aching.

It'd be nothing like the funeral. He'd be good. He just needed one more chance. He could fix everything so that Corey could fix him. If the pain went away he could think clearly for once. Choose the right words to make him stay this time.

Corey came back, he always did. Maybe it was divine intervention, or just plain pity, but he came when Doug called his name. Reluctantly that is, but he came.

Every time he got injured, Corey was just where he needed him to be. Like a guardian angel.

Five years ago Doug walked in to the hospital. He vaguely recalls a nurse rushing to him. Being wrapped around in bandages so tight he felt nice and clean again. Getting pushed into a room.

He knows he sat on the bed staring at nothing for a while, he doesn't know how long it was, for a while he felt nothing. As if he had been watching himself sit from outside his own body. He might've been muttering something.

Until Corey arrived. Suddenly he was pushed back into consciousness and he saw a light, a way out. It didn't matter that said light reeked of alcohol and the mud on his shoes reached up to his knees.

He's abruptly made aware of his surroundings. The roof underneath him and the rain falling aggressively from above him. For a moment he thinks he can hear the sky rumble.

The clouds and the sky are a matching shade of pitch black and he can't make anything out.

For a fraction of a second, staring ahead into the dark, he sees a light. A tiny little flicker in the distance.

This was his way out. Of course. It was obvious now. He just needed to sit in that hospital once more. Corey would come. Corey would find him. Just like he found him five years ago. Someone would call him. Maybe he would just know to look for Doug. It all made sense.

He takes a step towards the edge.

The tiles under his feet are wet and slippery from the rain.

He takes a second one.

There's no angels to push him off this time. They want him to do it. He has to do it. He watches a tree get struck by lightning.

He takes a third step.

Everything around him glows a strange shade of blue.

Another one.

His skin buzzes painfully. He wants to scratch the buzzing off. He doesn't. Both his hands stay on his sides

And he takes another step.

Sweat drips down from his palms. He wipes them off on his shirt to no avail.

And a last one.

Sometimes Doug has to sit on the roof. This time he stands on the very edge.

[sarcasticgaypotato]

I know some people have a hard time commenting on fics because they don't know what to say, so allow me to let you in on my personal hack for a super easy, 2-step comment that authors appreciate:

Say that you liked it. "This fic was great," "I love this chapter," "I really enjoyed this," etc.

Mention (1) thing that happened in the fic/chapter that stood out in a good way. You don't have to do a line-by-line analysis, just point out something specific. "The fight between (x) and (y) had me on the edge of my seat," "The conversation at the end of the chapter was perfectly in-character," "(x)'s internal dialog during (scene) was really good," etc.

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Now, go out and make a fic author's day!

[xxcherrycherixx]

Oh, thats slutty.

[blackjackkent]

Open Your Eyes and It Will Blind You - Chapter 4

Pairing: Jaheira/Rasaad Characters: Jaheira, Rasaad, OC Bhaalspawn, Aerie, Imoen, Minsc Rating: G Warnings: None Descriptors: Angst, Avoidance, Almost Kiss, Moving On, Fix-It, Slow Burn, Romantic Tension, Canon-Typical Violence, Cliffhanger, Fake Character Death Fic Word Count (Thus Far): 21.5k Chapter Word Count: 7.9k Setting: Several years after BG2 TOB Summary: Years after the defeat of Irenicus and Melissan, Jaheira and Rasaad are both still haunted by the things they have lost. Neither of them is much good at opening up, despite the burgeoning feelings between them. When Rasaad decides he must travel to Calimshan to face up to his brothers in Sun Soul, and she and their friends insist on accompanying them, the pair is forced to start to come to terms with their emotions, and what they want from the future, while uncovering a deep darkness that has infected the place Rasaad once called home. (Chap 4/?) Chapter Summary: After escaping the guards at the city wall, Jaheira and the others bring Rasaad safely to the Monastery of the Moon to plead his case - and then things go terribly wrong. read on ao3 | send me fic requests!

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The crowd of the market district envelops them as they flee the amlakkar checkpoint and disappear into the city.

Rasaad takes the lead, sure-footed on the roughened sandstone street. In the distance, they can hear shouts as the amlakkar begin to call out, alerting each other to the fugitive menace loosed into Calimport. They are quick, the lawkeepers of this city - quick and cold, more so than Jaheira remembers. Luckily, though, they have entered the city at one of its most populous, chaotic areas.

She has been here before. "The Khanduq Ward," Khalid explained on their last visit, his light, clipped tone barely audible under the chaos around them. Here on his home ground, his voice held only the slightest hint of his usual stammer. "Khanduq is m-m-'market', in Alzhedo. The city's b-beating heart."

Leading them away from the gate, Rasaad plunges without hesitation into the tremendous, swirling crowd. The khanduq is no grid of ordered city streets but instead an enormous open bazaar, lined in all directions with shops and stalls draped in colorful cloth. Cheerful shouting voices split the air, calling greetings, sales pitches, offers and demands of coin. A few figures on horseback or camelback, loaded down with goods in sacks and saddlebags, pick their way carefully among the hundreds of pedestrians, freely mixing Alzhedo profanity in with the general tumult. The smell is an indescribable combination of spices, cooking meat, and sweat, which might be more appealing were it not punctuated with a liberal note of animal dung.

It’s enough to make Jaheira's head spin. At the best of times, she is most comfortable in the wilderness, and has only with difficulty tolerated the crowded streets of Amn and Baldur's Gate. This wall of noise and color is overwhelming beyond anything she has seen in either city; it is pandemonium. She feels constantly on the edge of slamming into someone or clipping the edge of a stall, toppling it over and sending the whole house of cards crashing to pieces.

Rasaad, though, moves like lightning. She has never seen him like this before, dodging through the crowd with practiced, agile steps. His boots scuff adroitly into the dusty streets, pivoting him in rapid turns, finding and opening barely-visible pathways through the ever-shifting mass of people. It is all she can do to keep pace with him, and she finds herself fascinated, watching the ripple of quick-moving muscle under his tunic as he darts side to side. 

For a moment she can see a hint of the boy she has never met, the boy he once was. This is Rasaad as he was before the Sun Soul - the street rat in the Calishite shadows, native to the desert heat. He still carries a lurking piece of that boy inside him, and that boy remembers these crowded streets and noisy stalls, slipping naturally back into the maelstrom.

Would I walk so easily in Tethyr? she wonders.

"This way!" Rasaad hisses sharply, wresting her from her thoughts. Grabbing her sleeve, he tugs her down a side alley and glances behind them to see that the others are following. "Take care where you step."

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