#heres a chapter i guess

[inkedberries]

expanding on the thought of kudou getting the call sign 'hero' and afo getting irked by it for some reason

[solarmorrigan]

Hands Where I Can See Them, Part 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

The only thing Eddie is dreading as much as Steve’s return for his things is Wayne’s inevitable question about where Steve is at all.

After all, Steve has practically been living with them for weeks – something that Eddie may not have allowed himself to consider the significance of, but which Wayne cannot have failed to notice. Though Steve had (apparently) felt the need to do things around the trailer to stay in Wayne’s good graces, he really didn’t have to worry about it; Wayne likes him, and he’ll be asking sooner or later just where Steve has gone.

‘Sooner’ comes two nights after Eddie royally fucks things over. It’s Wayne’s night off, and there’s really no avoiding him; their new trailer is bigger than the last, but it’s still close quarters, and Eddie gets caught when he passes through the living room to get a drink from the kitchen.

“Noticed Steve isn’t here tonight,” Wayne says, blunt as hell, because he doesn’t see the point in doing things any other way.

“Nope,” Eddie says shortly, grabbing a glass from the cabinet and filling it from the tap.

“Wasn’t here last night, either,” Wayne goes on.

“He was not,” Eddie confirms.

“Wasn’t here when I got in yesterday morning,” Wayne says.

“You are a veritable font of observation tonight,” Eddie says, only a little snarky.

Wayne shrugs. “Hard not to notice when he’s here nine days out of ten, then suddenly up and disappears,” he says. He pauses a moment before adding, “Stuff’s gone from the bathroom, too.”

Eddie occupies himself with slowly swallowing down half his glass of water before he answers. “Yeah.”

“Don’t suppose he’s going on a trip,” Wayne doesn’t quite ask, and Eddie lets out a bitter sort of laugh.

“Loving the optimism from you, but no, not… not so much.”

There are a few beats of silence, and then Wayne lets out a slow sigh. Eddie knows him well enough to understand the sound of it – he’s just decided to get involved.

“You two have a fight?”

“Something like that,” Eddie mutters.

“Well that’s vague as hell, son. You have a fight, or didn’t you?” Wayne prods.

Slowly, Eddie shakes his head. “No, I– I don’t think so. I think it was all me,” he says, finally looking up from his glass and meeting Wayne’s questioning gaze. “I fucked up, Wayne.”

There’s no immediate judgement coming from Wayne, no suspicion or scorn, not even a shake of the head and some variation of “Of course you did.” There’s only a measured sort of curiosity in his stare, the same way it’s been since Eddie was a kid and Wayne was trying to figure him out; it’s sort of comforting in its familiarity, in its neutrality.

“You wanna tell me about it?” Wayne asks.

Eddie knows that if he says no, Wayne will let it go. He might keep sending curious and worried looks Eddie’s way, he might ask a few more prodding questions over the next few days, but he won’t make Eddie say anything he doesn’t want to. And Eddie doesn’t really want to – but he thinks that maybe he needs to.

“If… you had to define mine and Steve’s relationship, what would you say?” Eddie asks after a moment.

Wayne cocks an eyebrow at him. “I’d say that feels like a trick question.”

Eddie lets out a little huff of a laugh. “It’s not, I swear. I’m seriously curious,” he says. “There are no wrong answers – go.”

“Well,” Wayne says, still eyeing Eddie consideringly, “I don’t know if you kids put labels on things these days or what, but from the outside, I’d say you’re dating. I’d say that boy is fully in love with you and that you’re at least halfway to loving him back.”

“Right.” Eddie gives a jerky nod. “Seems like that’s what pretty much everyone thinks.”

“But that’s not what’s going on,” Wayne takes a guess.

“Well, that depends on your perspective,” Eddie says, a little high and tight.

“Well, the only perspectives worth a damn here’re yours’n Steve’s,” Wayne shoots back. “So what would those be?”

Eddie drains the last of his water, turning away to put the glass in the sink. “Steve… shares your perspective. Or, uh– he did. But I… I didn’t realize he was so serious. I thought we were just kind of messing around.”

The silence from behind Eddie is so thick that he can’t help but finally turn around and meet Wayne’s gaze again.

“That’s a hell of a blind spot, Ed,” Wayne says simply, and Eddie folds in on himself a bit, crossing his arms over his chest. His main defense has always been to become larger than life – to make big gestures and even bigger speeches, but everything about this situation makes him feel like nothing so much as small.

“Yeah,” he says quietly.

“So, what, you figured out how serious he was and thought you didn’t want that?” Wayne asks, and Eddie hunches a little further in on himself.

“Nope. No, that– would’ve been better, actually. If that’s what happened. But that’s not what happened, because did I mention I fucked up? Because I seriously fucked up.” Eddie’s rambling is stemmed by an expectant look from Wayne. “It’s just – the other night, when the guys were over, we got to talking about it. The whole… me and Steve thing. As in, they thought me and Steve were a thing. And they asked me about it. While Steve was out of the room. And then he, uh. Hm.” Eddie rubs a hand nervously over his chin. “He walked back in when I was in the middle of telling them that he's just a friend and that we’re just having fun. And that’s… when I found out how serious he was.”

“Eddie…”

“I know. I know!” Eddie doesn’t even have to look at Wayne to catch the disappointment coming off of him, so he doesn’t. He scrubs hands over his face and then just leaves him there, telling the rest of the story to his palms. “He was so fucking upset, Wayne, I think– I think I actually made him cry? And the only reason he hasn’t been here to get the rest of his stuff out of the trailer yet is because he was down with a migraine the next day. Like, I hurt him so badly I made him physically ill. So I didn’t just fuck up, but I’m actually a horrible human being and should probably spend the rest of my days living in isolation so I don’t ruin anyone else’s life.”

Wayne is silent for so long that Eddie is eventually forced to peek out from behind his fingers.

“You’re not gonna tell me how bad I fucked up?” Eddie asks, still a bit muffled.

“Seems like you have that covered already,” Wayne says, then he holds up one arm in offer, nodding towards the empty spot beside him on the couch. “C’mere.”

He doesn’t need to ask Eddie twice. No matter how old he gets, Eddie doesn’t think a genuine hug from his uncle will ever stop being comforting, and regardless of whether or not he thinks he actually deserves it right now, he’s going to take it. He crashes down onto the couch and leans heavily into Wayne’s side, sighing as Wayne wraps his arm around his shoulders.

“You’re not a bad person, Ed. You made a mistake, s’all,” Wayne says, and Eddie scoffs.

“Pretty big fucking mistake,” he mutters.

“Yep, that was a doozy. You hurt someone you care about, and you might not be able to fix it all the way. But that doesn’t make you terrible. Makes you human.” Wayne gives Eddie a comforting squeeze. “And Steve ain’t a bad person, either. He’ll know you mean it when you tell him you’re sorry.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says quietly.

“You think about what you’re gonna do when he does show to get the rest of his stuff?” Wayne asks.

“Besides grovel?” Eddie shoots back.

“I mean, what’re you gonna grovel for?”

Eddie lets out a long breath. “I… I know I might not be able to fix it, but I just – I want the chance to try. I’m hoping he’ll just give me that chance.” Eddie pauses for a moment, choked by the dread of the thought that Steve might not give him that chance. “Things don’t have to go back to the way they were, but I at least want him to know that even if I’m shit at showing it, I do care.”

“Sounds like a decent place to start,” Wayne says.

“Think so?” Eddie asks.

“Mm.”

“Well… I hope Steve thinks so, too.”

Wayne gives his shoulders another squeeze and says nothing more, but he doesn’t really have to. He’s already settled Eddie’s nerves more than he’d thought possible; just this is more than enough.

Now Eddie just has to try to hold onto the feeling long enough to talk to Steve.

-

It turns out, Eddie doesn’t have to hold onto the feeling for very long at all; the very next morning—two days after Robin had read Eddie the riot act and left him to begin tentatively planning—another knock comes at the door.

It’s ten in the morning – not as early as Eddie had expected, but early enough that he’s not long out of bed when he opens the door to find Steve on the other side.

In contrast to Eddie’s sweatpants and t-shirt, Steve looks like he’s trying very hard to look like he’s alright. His polo is clean and tucked in, the collar is straight, his hair is as perfectly styled as ever – but there’s still something off. There are dark circles under his eyes, stark against a paler than normal complexion, and none of the ease or contentment that Eddie has grown used to shines from his face. He feels a little like he wants to mourn its absence.

“Hey,” Steve says, nodding in greeting.

“Hey,” Eddie says back, because for all his thoughts and planning, he hadn’t really considered how to start this encounter.

“I came to get my shit out of your way,” Steve says, and Eddie frowns.

It’s not in my way, he wants to say. You’re not in my way. Leave your stuff. Stay.

“Uh. Yeah, sure,” Eddie says instead, stepping aside to let Steve in.

Steve is carrying a cardboard box, but doesn’t seem to have anything or anyone else in tow. For as spread throughout Eddie’s life as Steve has become, he wonders if all of him will fit into that one box.

“Kinda surprised you didn’t bring Buckley to help pack,” Eddie says, glancing back out the screen door, as if Robin might appear out of nowhere.

“Just dropped her off at work,” Steve says. “I figured she probably already had… words for you when she picked up my meds, and I didn’t think any of us needed an encore.”

“I don’t know,” Eddie says quietly. “The stuff she said got me thinking.”

In the process of grabbing a jacket he’d left behind off one of the hooks by the door, Steve only glances back at Eddie. “I’m sure she had a lot to say,” he says, carefully neutral.

“Yeah. She, uh – definitely did. Can we talk?” Eddie asks.

Steve sighs. “Eddie…”

“Just hear me out, please. Then I’ll get out of your way and let you pack in peace, I promise,” Eddie says.

“We don’t– have to talk about it,” Steve says, turning back to face Eddie. “Look, I’m sorry for putting my weird expectations on you. I was reading into stuff that wasn’t there, and I made assumptions instead of just talking to you, and that’s on me. So I’m gonna just – get out of your hair, and you won’t have to deal with my stupid, delusional bullshit anymore.”

“No, that’s not– Steve–” Eddie reaches out for Steve as he tries to brush past on his way to the bedroom, where most of his belongings are. He gets a hand around Steve’s bicep and, though Steve doesn’t jerk away this time, he goes stiff and still beneath Eddie’s touch, prompting Eddie to let go.

It hurts; even though Eddie’s done it to himself, the reaction still hurts. He’s always reached for Steve in the past, always had his hands on him, and Steve had always welcomed him, even before they’d started sleeping together. Now, Eddie takes a step back, forcing himself to give Steve some space.

“That’s not what I want to say at all,” he says. “I mean – I would’ve liked if we’d talked about it, because then I would’ve known, and I could’ve appreciated what it was – what we were doing.”

Steve turns back to face Eddie, his gaze snapping straight to him with equal suspicion and confusion. “What?”

“Steve, you weren’t reading into things that weren’t there, you’re not– you’re not stupid or delusional, I was just – I was sending you mixed signals,” Eddie says. “I was so wrapped up in thinking that I knew what was going on, that I didn’t look at what I really had, and I’m sorry. But if I knew, if I’d just gotten my head out of my ass, you have to believe that in a heartbeat, I would have–”

“Don’t,” Steve cuts in sharply.

“Steve–”

“I don’t need whatever this is, Eddie,” Steve snaps. “You don’t need to have pity on your pathetic ex-whatever I am to you, okay? It’s okay, just– just let it go.”

“This isn’t pity,” Eddie insists with an incredulous little laugh. “It’s fucking not, I swear! This is me saying that I fucked up and I hurt you and I want to make it up to you. I haven’t done anything to deserve it, but I want the chance to show you how sorry I am and how much you mean to me– in whatever capacity you’ll let me.”

“Whatever capacity?” Steve stares at him, brows furrowed.

“Whatever you’ll be comfortable with. As a friend, or… as more, if that bridge hasn’t burned,” Eddie says.

“What, so now I’m relationship material?” Steve asks, pointed.

Eddie winces. “I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have said any of that, and if I could go back in time and slap myself upside the head before I let any of that shit out and hurt you with it, I would. I know that… I know I didn’t pay enough attention to you, but I also wasn’t paying very much attention to how I was feeling,” he says. “Because honestly? I’m kind of a moron, Steve. I’ve never had sex with someone I really liked, with someone who was anything like a friend, and when I started wanting to be around you all the time, and always wanting you within reach, and when every little thing started to remind me of you, I just thought… yeah, this is what friends-with-benefits feels like. Y’know, like a fucking idiot.”

Steve doesn’t laugh. “I don’t know if I can trust you on that,” he says softly, and that’s fair.

It hurts, but it’s fair.

“Then let me earn your trust back. Please, Steve, just… give me the chance,” Eddie implores, doesn’t even care that he’s basically begging – Eddie doesn’t beg, but for Steve, he’ll make an exception. For Steve, he thinks he’ll do just about anything.

Pursing his lips, Steve looks at the floor beside Eddie’s feet for a long moment, and Eddie gives him the time to sort his thoughts out.

“I want to say yes. Part of me just wants to accept your apology and pretend that none of this happened. Just keep going the way we were,” he says. “But I can’t keep doing that – ignoring shit. I just… can’t.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Eddie says. “I don’t want things to be like they were before, I want – I want to be better. I want to do better.”

“How?” Steve asks, both challenging and curious.

“I want to do it right. I want to show you how much I appreciate you, and how much you mean to me. I want to treat you like you deserve to be treated,” Eddie insists. “And if that’s just by being the best friend I can be, then that’s what I’ll do, but I would love—love—if you’d let me romance you.”

That briefly breaks through Steve’s stony façade, and he lets out a huff of a laugh. “Romance me?”

“Shit, yeah. Flowers and chocolates and candle-lit dates – the whole nine yards,” Eddie says with a slow grin. “All the things you’ve given other people but that no one has ever given you.”

“I…” Steve starts, his own humor fading quickly. “I don’t know.”

It’s better than an outright ‘no.’

“That’s okay,” Eddie promises. “You don’t have to know right now. I can wait. I’m a patient kinda guy.”

(That’s an absolute lie, and they both know it, but Eddie will find all the patience in the world if Steve needs time to think.)

Slowly, Steve nods. “I think… Just, give it a couple of weeks, okay? Really think about it, and if this – if I’m something you still want by then, come talk to me again,” he says. “Alright?”

“Yeah.” Eddie nods rapidly. “As much time as you want. I’m not going to up and change my mind. Two weeks, I’ll ask again.”

Steve shrugs, taking a step back towards the bedroom.

“I will,” Eddie promises – not defensive, but certain. He can wait two weeks. He can wait as long as Steve needs him to. Maybe he can take the time to get his shit together.

He does care about Steve. He does pay attention – and he’s going to prove it.

But in the meantime, the only thing Steve has asked for is space, so Eddie gives it to him. He retreats to the kitchen to let Steve pack up in peace, trying hard not to feel bereft at the thought of the gaps Steve will be leaving behind.

If he’s lucky—if he’s very, very lucky—it won’t be forever.

Part 5

-

Tag List (drop me a line if you want on or off the ride): @bushbees @y0urnewstepp4r3nt @gleek4twd @hellfireone @westifer-dead @anne-bennett-cosplayer @starman-jpg @mugloversonly @swimmingbirdrunningrock @alycatavatar @y4r3luv @rhapsodyinalto @vinteraltus @lilpomelito @tillystealeaves @noctxrn-e

I did my best to catch everyone, but there were a few people Tumblr wouldn't let me tag. Sorry if I missed you!

[anna-scribbles]

what a shame, i can see it all now that we’re through

- firearm by lizzy mcalpine

(chapter 5 of call it even is making me feel bonkers insane. thank u @sha-nwa)

[ajwalkerartblog]

i'm very obsessed with skip and loafer atm

[jasonsbruce]

[nehezt]

Just realized that I never explicitly mentioned it in this blog, so here goes: I have multiple sclerosis, which means that I'm susceptible to a lot of health problems like muscle pain, inflammations, fatigue, brain fog and a bunch of other symptoms. On top of that, the treatment for it intentionally makes my immune system weaker, which means I'm more prone to getting sick.

For the past almost two months I've been mildly to severely sick, with different illnesses, one after the other, back to back. I have not been able to work on updating Traces of Spring, or any of my other projects, because I have a chronic illness that makes my life unreasonably difficult. I understand none of you have bad intentions but I'll ask that you stop asking me when I'm going to update. I don't know. Everytime I set a deadline, my body decides to play very petty and cruel games with me and I'm out of comission for 2+ weeks. In this scenario I'm going to prioritize my health instead of working on a comic none of you are paying me to do. If any of you ask me in the future, you will either be directed to this post or ignored.

Thank you.

[aroaessidhe]

aro & ace books: with internal illustrations!

Don’t Let The Forest In - YA horror - ace MC - internal/cover art by Jana Heidersdorf

The Wolf Among The Wild Hunt - NA dark fantasy - aroace MC/SC - internal art by Andrew Garin

In The Jaws of an Oak - adult horror/erotica novella - internal/cover art by author

Elatsoe - YA paranormal - aro coded ace MC - internal/cover art by Rovina Cai

Little Thieves - YA fantasy - demi MC/LI - internal art by author

Every Heart A Doorway - NA fantasy novella - ace MC - internal art by Rovina Cai

Fallen Thorns - NA urban fantasy - aroace MC (& SC) - internal/cover art by author

#aspec books / aspec database / tumblr masterpost

[arahir]

writering: gdocs and alternatives

or: a desperate plea for a functional word processor. i write a lot, very fast, and need programs that can handle high word counts and offer functionality like heading navigation and cross-device sync. unfortunately, that program does not exist. here is what does:

Google Docs

✅ reliable sync between devices ✅ has most features you need with a simple interface ✅ tabs are nice i guess ✅ offline availability 🟡 mediocre dark mode, yes i care, why fumble this 🟡 limited collab functions with a dubious history of locking authors out of docs they've shared ❌ some features on desktop are not available on mobile (again, why?) ❌ extremely slow load on docs over 100k (30 seconds or until timeout) ❌ mobile load errors over 140k ❌ extreme issues with external keyboard input on some devices

Microsoft Word

✅ it works i guess ✅ oddly enough a great place to throw a chapter for a final spelling edit/polish 🟡 ...but the spell and grammar check make actively writing in ms word nearly impossible unless you gut both features ❌ it has nav features but they are nightmarish to use ❌ ai integration ❌ interface was created in the 90s and yes i have been using it since then and yes it has not improved meaningfully ❌ autosaves to an external program cloud which has always pissed me off when i'm working on a device i also use professionally that uses that cloud ❌❌❌ you have to pay for it

Scrivener

✅ beautiful interface ✅ incredible features ✅ seriously the best writing experience out there 🟡 can be coerced into an automatic online backup but requires an external program to do so and i've heard there are issues with retrieval sometimes ❌❌❌ no built in cross-device sync and thus largely useless

Ellipsus

✅ simple and clean oddly fun to use ✅ font changes apply to the whole doc without you having to select all ✅ export and markdown available ✅ collab capabilities for editing with multiple modes ✅ staunchly anti ai🟡 takes the same amount of time gdocs does to load a 100k document but it CAN load it ❌ poor sync between devices (i could not get it to sync with any reliable speed on large documents) ❌ periodic freezing/crashing on docs above 140k

VERDICT: writing on a single device? scrivener. final polish/spell check/formatting? microsoft word. casual writing for short form between devices? try ellipsus. best overall? google docs, tragically.

DO YOU HAVE AN ALTERNATIVE? please tell me, and i will check it out and give it the hardest test of its life. i am desperate.

QUESTIONS? i can give you a truly exhaustive, grating, detailed accounting of all of these programs and their use down to the most idiotic minutiae, so send me an ask.

[aroaceleovaldez]

HoO is so funny to me when you actually think about the ages of all the characters. Octavian is 18. Percy and Annabeth are 16, almost 17. Reyna is presumably 16. Frank just turned 16, Jason’s about to turn 16. Leo and Piper are like 15. Hazel’s like 14 and a half, and Nico is 13.

The Death Sibs are both the youngest and oldest on the Argo II. Octavian is a college freshman getting into petty drama with a bunch of high schoolers. He gets told to shut up at one point by a random 8th grader. Everyone is scared of the 8th grader. We Sent A 13 Year Old To Superhell and he came back weirder, Just Like Middle School. TLH was just three high school sophomores being sent to do a task and it going Exactly Like You’d Expect. Percy’s the only demigod on the ship who can legally drive (though Reyna gets her drivers license at some point before TOA). What Is Happening.

[nart-is-a-monster]

The sketch and the final thing bc I read the chapter and I promise you that my mind was just the scenes of the fic going over and over and me being normal about them!

ALSO!!!!

@dreadpirateurania13

I hope you get better regarding the covid thing!

So here you have a little bit of medicine or idk 💥💥💥

Also more details about the sketch!!!

I was in a magma with my friends, the one at the top left is Chikito and the one a the top right is Ax I love them sm

AND AND AND

THE SCENE OF THE OVERSIZED BAND SHIRT

I couldn't think of any other thing to put in the shirt other than mitski, sorry.

And on the render draw I'm sorry but whenever I see an empty corner I can't help it but I do cats whenever I don't know what to put on them 🐈

And Varian has bad alchemy puns on his shirt as he should

AND THIS IS FROM THE FIC AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES GO READ IT

[astranauticus]

this isnt the kind of stuff i'd usually post but im fuckin losing my mind. ive been watching through the bilibili livestream vods of like this arknights lore creator reading through and commentating on like the game stories and right now im watching the vod from his main story chapter 11 stream and his reaction to logos' sprite reveal is so fucking funny i had to clip it. man is really having a crisis on stream

[vandalistverdict]

There’s three types of symbiosis; mutualism, commensalism, and parasitism.  Tyler pats my chest twice, a quick tap tap, and, sigh, we’re not connected anymore. He’s sitting up, lighting a cigarette, smoke curling from his mouth. He holds the cigarette to my lips and I suck, the smooth, acrid smoke sliding into my mouth and filling my lungs. Tyler doesn’t need nicotine. I do. Tyler doesn’t get attached to things the way I do. He’s free from all that. Mutualism. It’s when both species benefit from the relationship. Think bees and flowers. Think clownfish and anemone. This is not what Tyler wants. Commensalism. That’s when one species benefits and the other derives nothing—neither harm nor benefit. Think barnacles on whales. Think fungi on trees. This is not what Tyler wants either. Tyler would never settle for indifference. Parasitism, though—you already know. That’s when one species thrives, and the other suffers. Think ticks on dogs. Think tapeworms feasting in some poor kid’s intestines. Think cysticercosis, brain parasites, in some rotting, skeleton of a person's head. Okay, fine. Maybe it is all that bad. Maybe this is exactly what Tyler wants.

- - -

[margieargie]

[sesamenom]

the "what-to-do-about-the-ring" chapters, but from the perspective of elronds oath-related trauma

all text from Fellowship of the Ring (council of elrond + the ring goes south), except the snippets of the Oath, which i believe is from the Shibboleth of Feanor

inspired by this post

[hanashiz]

Bungou Stray Dogs Light Novel 1 : Dazai Osamu's Entrance Exam

[puppyeared]

moshi moshi..