#hope this hits the spot!

[eddiebabygirldiaz]

🌔 soulmates / magic au for this beautiful evening, please.

sweet sunbursts of flesh pink magic | 5k | explicit | witch!buck | read on ao3

Buck’s magic has always been a bit volatile. Jittery. Fluctuating. A touch reckless. Messy and bright and loud. Maddie says that a person’s magic is supposed to match the person themselves, that the form it takes isn’t happenstance or random, that it’s a reflection of your purest self, an extension of your soul that you can manipulate. Safe to say, Buck’s never cared for that assessment. or, buck has magic and eddie gets doused with sex pollen

read on ao3

fall prompts

(huge thanks and kisses to @exhuastedpigeon and @bucklavaa for beta reading)

[saessenach]

“You are dead,” Dany said.

Murdered. Though his lips never moved, somehow she could hear his voice, whispering in her ear. You never mourned me, sister. It is hard to die unmourned.

“I loved you once.”

Daenerys and Viserys in A Dance with Dragons, Dany X for the lovely @hylialeia 🫶 Happy mid-November once again Leia ��✨✨

[horreurscopes]

this is my brother and i need a shovel to love him (prints)

[thecl0wnfather]

please enjoy this collection of shitty Welcome Home doodles I made while going insane fer th' past day of brain rotting over this

yes, that is Howdy dying in a glue trap.

[vse-kar-vem]

everybody's waiting at the ball 👁️🪩💡🌟🕯️

[esmes]

but it's your nellie, here... now... (requested by @entrelombreetlame)

[iron-sparrow]

"Miss me much?"

feat. @sealrock's Achille

[bunnyreaper]

speak now—pt 2

pairing - john price x f!reader wc - 3k warnings - wedding (left at the altar), exes to lovers, post-break up/getting back together, swearing/insults, wee bit of angst!! notes - this genuinely went off the rails but, here it is!! pt2!! read pt 1 here! have a request? drop it on me! or read this fic on ao3!

Bullets fly all around you, whipping past your ear in a cacophony of death. You're pinned down, too many rifles trained on your position just waiting for you to break cover—and none of the rest of the 141 are around to help you out.

It feels like one peek will have you staring death in the face, and your heartbeat roars accordingly. Yet still, you expected it to be worse, you didn't expect to be as calm as you are.

You close your eyes for a moment, just to think. Your fiancé's waiting for you at home, and you have to get back to him. You can't die here, have to think of a way out, John would be so mad if you died under his watch. The crash of metal and the sound of ragged breaths pull you out of your thoughts, the Captain himself slams beside you, rifle in hand.

"I'll cover you, run."

The last thing you want to do is leave John behind, but the look in his eyes is so commanding, so certain. You've always been able to trust him—always will, even after everything.

Maybe that's why you let him walk away, because you trusted he knew what was best for you—otherwise, why else would he leave you?

With an even calmer resolve, you focus, nodding at your captain one more time before you bolt for the building's exit, firing off bullets where you can.

The adrenaline coursing through you now is incomparable.

You have no training to deal with this, no guidance to help face it—especially when your guiding light is now a blinding problem.

You watch, frozen, heart beating out of control as John stands. Maybe he remembered he left the oven on, maybe he's going to hand you a tissue or something…

His eyes are fixed on you, they're your unknowing something blue, the one thing you couldn't do this day without. You search his gaze for answers and see the swirl of emotion within as he speaks.

"Y/N, don't do it."

The strain in his voice almost sounds painful, like the heartache is slowly strangling him from the inside. And yet, you're frozen. 

John just stopped your wedding, and there's only one reason why. Looking into his eyes now, it's plain as day—he never stopped loving you, and in the final moments as you slipped through his fingers, he decided he couldn't let you go. 

You feel your mouth open as if words are going to come, but nothing does. 

Not from you, not from your fiancé, not from anyone else in the church. 

For a moment, everything is still. Just you and him, a moment of understanding, of reconnection. 

Simon's gruff whisper severs the moment clean in two, as he stands, looming over John. "Captain, with all due respect, sit the fuck down."

More voices flood in, your fiancé's voice going shrill and obnoxious, his mother all but screaming, whispers among the crowd. 

Your fiancé moves first, the tension finally snapping as he lunges for John, a clumsy attempt at a punch dodged effortlessly by the captain. John pushes off the hands now grasping at his lapels with ease, and turns to face you once more. 

Your stony, impassive expression makes his stomach drop. 

"Outside, now." You hiss, before charging forward and pulling him by his arm past rows of scandalised faces—ignoring the commotion behind you. 

You march to the room in which you just got ready—the room where your bridal makeup was perfected, and you had slipped into this beautiful dress, and you slam the door shut behind you both. 

"John, what the fuck?" You seethe, not actually angry, but not exactly calm either. With all the feelings whirling around you, it's hard to settle on one emotion. 

The man takes a deep breath, nostrils flaring, lips thinning. A tense cord pulls between the two of you, stretching and fraying. "I know you didn't want to marry him." 

His eyes are filled with something severe, the sense of internal conviction it took for him to do something so monumental. 

"You knew, did you? How did you know that?" The pitch of your voice climbs rapidly, a choking feeling building in your throat and crushing your windpipe. The tears are right there, just waiting to fall. 

You're still in denial, still so completely overwhelmed that all you can do is process, in real time—and you know John will still be there by the end of it.

His chest rises and falls steady, resolutely calm in the storm, when he speaks, his voice is now steady. He's trying to soothe you by protecting a sense of serenity, that natural protective aura of him seeping through every pore. "I could see it in your eyes." 

Your eyes, you were never good at hiding how you felt from John, or maybe he was just so adept at seeing through you. You look away, mumbling out works you don't really believe. "Maybe you were just seeing what you wanted to see." 

Underneath it all, your plea is clear, convince me. Show me the truth, guide me to the light. 

"I know you, love." His voice softens, and in the corner of your averted gaze you can see his posture shift—you notice the way he so clearly wants to reach out to you. 

"Better than I know myself?" 

Say yes, you whisper in your head. 

"Better than he knows you, at least." John's words cut, but they're heavy with truth, and that tips you over the edge, the tears bursting from you. 

"I hate you right now, John." You say, wracked with sobs, yet you throw yourself into his arms, clinging to him like he's your salvation. His arms wrap around your waist, his warmth seeping through the fine material of your gown. 

He holds you close, tight, like he's not going to let you go again. The crush of him against you feels like home, the anger you felt ebbing away. 

His face buries into your neck, his next words a mumble. "'m sure everyone out there feels the same right now." 

His dry, self-deprecating humour is just his usual, as deep down, John doesn't actually care that he just made a room full of people hate him, if this is the resolution. He only cares if you do, if you still will, when the dust has settled. 

You continue to cling to him as you sob, you'd sniffles breaking the silence of the room. "You ruined my wedding day." 

"If you really wanted it, you'd be out there getting married, not here with me." He sighs, but his arms tighten protectively. "Tell me I did the right thing." 

You pull away slightly, meeting his eyes and searching for the answers you desperately need. You've felt so lost, unmoored without John, and this situation has only added to the swirl of uncertainty. "But... you were the one who let me go." 

A sad smile finds its way to his face, his eyes crinkled and pained. "Regretted it every day since, sweetheart." 

"Why didn't... why didn't you say anything sooner?" 

Why didn't you bring me back to you?

"Thought you'd be happy, wanted to be right, but I know what I saw up there." His hands caress your waist as he talks, his thumbs rubbing over your bodice in soothing sweeps. "Look me in the eye and tell me I'm wrong."  

You know that if you did, he'd drop it, march you back out there, and send you off with a sad smile. 

But he's not wrong. The only time he was ever wrong was sending you off in the first place, and he won't make the same mistake twice. 

His eyes are fixed upon yours, waiting for an eternity for your answer. 

"You... you're not wrong." With the words spoken aloud, a sense of peace washes over you, and you press yourself into John's chest for a moment, letting it all wash over you. 

More tears come, and his hold is unwavering throughout. Soft touches and sweet whispers try to coax you through, coax you back to calmness once more. 

"I'm so fucking confused, John, and it still hurts." You sniffle. 

More than anything, you're wracked with a deep sense of guilt. Because while your fiancé is likely out there heartbroken and suffering, your heart actually feels more whole again than it has in the longest time. 

And that makes you feel like a terrible, selfish person, something you've never thought of yourself as being—but then John hadn't thought of himself as the type of man to lose his self-control. 

Here you both are, but you know everything will be fine since you're here together. 

John's words remind you of such—a quiet whisper in your ear. "I know, sweet girl. We'll figure it out. Whatever comes next can be fixed a lot easier than a divorce, love." 

You nod solemnly. 

Your fiancé and his family can still enjoy the reception and the food, and he can go on your honeymoon and have a blast—you hope it won't all go to waste, at least. You'll move out of your shared flat and split the furniture, and at the end of it all you'll get to fall asleep in John's arms—something worth more than any fancy wedding day or 5-star set meal or holiday to Bali. 

Worth more than the life you almost went and lived with the wrong man.  

"I wish I didn't let it get this far, but I never thought... that you felt the same." You whisper. 

"You still love me?" His sapphire eyes sparkle at the thought of you yearning for him all this time too. 

"Never stopped, but I tried to understand. I tried to assume that you were right and I'd be happier with someone else, but..." The intensity of the moment makes your eyes flutter shut, as you take a moment to gather yourself. "It's not the same, it never has been." 

"I wish I'd stepped in sooner, too. Could've saved you all this heartache." John admits, voice unusually subdued. One look in his eyes tells you he blames himself for this mess, that he's trying to pull you out of the pit of guilt and throw himself in instead.

"What am I gonna do?" 

Tell me what to do. 

"What we're gonna do is take a few deep breaths, but you need to make a choice." He wipes away the wet tracks still coating your cheeks, soft thumbs sweeping adoringly over you, his eyes still burning with intensity. 

"You or him? It's not a choice at all, John." Your laugh is choked with a sense of disbelief. After all this, John would have to summon all his strength, and that of the rest of the task force, just to pry you away from him.

"I'm so happy to hear you say that." His smile is beaming, reflecting your own and shining with the euphoria he feels within. Everything is falling into place, the desperate leap he made was worth it, and both of you are thankful. "But you know what comes next." 

"Yeah..." You nod, dread seeping in as you think of having to go tell a room full of your fiancé's friends and loved ones that the wedding won't be happening, and that you've wasted all this time and money for nothing. 

"I'm happy to play the villain if it helps." There's a half-hearted smirk, and yet John's offer is serious. For you, he'd go throw himself on a metaphorical sword if it meant shielding you from the judgment and hatred.  

"Hah. Think we're both the villains now." You sigh.

The banging of the door forces your attention firmly back to reality.

"Open the fuck up, John, you bastard!" Your fiancé's enraged voice calls out from the other side before he bursts through anyway. 

John instinctively steps in front of you, his arm shielding you from the man's rage. They stare each other down, just as they did earlier. 

"Sorry, sir, I tried to stop him." Kyle appears behind him, panting and panicked. 

Your fiancé does not take kindly to that, his rage continuing to bubble over. "Tried to stop me? She's my fucking wife." 

The word you'd looked forward to hearing now makes your stomach turn. You're not going to be his wife, you're not going to be his anything anymore. 

It takes all your strength to look him in the eye, though the barrier of John between the two of you feels like a blanket of safety. "No, we're not going through with the wedding." 

The words are out, no taking them back now. 

"You've got to be kidding me, really?" His voice grows even louder, and a fit of anger seeps out of him that you've never seen before. "You led me on all this time just to fuck me off at the altar for your coffin-dodger ex?" 

"Woah now, lad." It's Soap now that cuts in, trying to coax your fiancé away from the brewing tension. 

John stands firm in front of you, unwavering, unafraid—though why would he be?

You don't have the same resolve in the face of a man you loved looking at you like you're shit on his shoe. "I'm sorry." You sob, the tears flowing once more. 

"Sorry? For being a fucking whore?" The venom he unleashes makes everyone flinch. Kyle's mouth pops open in shock, Johnny grits his teeth. John's protective stance deepens. 

"Don't talk to her like that." John snaps, nostrils flaring as his chest puffs up and his captain voice makes an appearance.

"You're welcome to her, mate." Your fiancé, ex-fiancé, laughs bitterly. "Thanks for doing me a favour, don't have to watch her make fucking goo-goo eyes at you for the rest of my life." 

"I never meant for any of this to happen." Tears continue to roll down your cheeks, the emotion of the situation, of your guilt, of everything overwhelming you.

"Ignore him, love." John turns and whispers, his hand settling on your back in a comforting gesture, already falling back into the old routine of soothing and protecting you. 

"Oh, you fucker—" The other man snarls, and is about to swing for John once again. In an instant, Simon is behind him, the behemoth soldier showing up just in time to pull him back through the door.

"That's enough." 

There's more shouting as Simon wrestles him away with Kyle's help, leaving the rest of you standing in an awkward, stifling silence.

Johnny's concerned, confused look only adds to the tension in your chest. You worry you've disappointed him, ruined his perception of you. 

As if sensing your distress, he's by your side in an instant, rubbing your shoulders and soothing you. "Everything will be a'right lass, promise."

You struggle to suck in breaths, unable to face the idea of going out into the ceremony room and having more abuse hurled at you. "Johnny, will you... handle things for me?" 

"Aye, of course." He nods, taking his man of honour role very seriously. 

When your breathing returns to normal under the gentle touches of both men, John turns to the younger man beside you.  "Can we have a minute?" 

Johnny simply nods before taking his leave.

The door clicks shut, and the room settles into silence once more—but strangely, a lot of the tension is gone. 

A weight feels lifted from you, at least a little. It's over, even if there's still an aftermath to deal with. 

For now, it's just you and John. 

John pulls you close to him, his arms enclosing your waist as he holds you tenderly. His large arms cradle you once more, and the feeling of safety and comfort and just John rushes through you. 

"Hard parts over, at least for now." He whispers. "'m not going anywhere ever again, love. We'll get through this together, yeah?" 

John takes a moment to just hold you before he continues. "We'll invite him to our wedding he can ruin it... and then we'll have a do-over, call it even." 

"Not funny, John." You say, yet snort a laugh anyway. 

Our wedding—the words stick in your head.  

Yours and John's wedding, where you get to wear the dress you want and do the things you want to do, and just have your boys there to witness your bond. The idea is far in the future, and yet it feels like something certain. 

"Too soon, sorry, love." He mumbles, pressing a sweet kiss to the top of your head. "Johnny'll sort everything out, and you can get out of here." 

You pull away, startled for the briefest of moments. "We can get out of here, together. I'm not leaving you trapped in a room full of people all gunning for you." 

"Appreciate it, darling." 

John's smile is soft and earnest, full of love as his eyes flicker down to your lips, and he stops holding back. 

His hands cup your face firmly before he pulls you in, your lips melting together in a soul-searing kiss. 

It's both desperate and tender—breathtaking in the way it joins you and sends relief flooding through both of you. 

John's lips nip at yours, tasting you and re-familiarising themselves with your sweet plushness. You can both feel your deep hunger for the other, once that's been swirling inside you for years. 

His hands slip from your face, trailing down your bare arms in the gentlest of caresses—the look in his eyes has you completely entranced as he speaks.

"Take my hand, we better run." 

[sketchingstars03]

They always save the day!!

Aaaa another redraw

It’s the goobers!! The found family ever! The main cast of Splattertale!!

Three skeletons and a.. weird.. human.. monster.. faun… thing!

As always, Ink is by comyet

Dream is by uh.. jokublog

Swap is by popcornpr1nce

And Splatter is by yours truly! ;3

And uh.. original under the cut? 👀 (Warning: old old OLD art 💀💀💀)

[whumpshaped]

may i contribute, a father caretaker figure protecting a drugged whumpee and fighting through enemy forces while holding whumpee in their arms. bonus points if caretaker is constantly talking to them and touching them, knowing that whumpee probably couldn’t tell very well who is around them without constant reminders.

tw guns, shooting, murder, death, noncon drugging (aftermath)

“Don’t fall asleep now,” Caretaker said firmly, dragging Whumpee along by an arm around their waist. Poor thing was high as a kite on whatever these monsters had pumped them full of and could barely stay upright; if they’d had an extra hand to hold a gun, they would’ve just scooped Whumpee up and carried them outside. “We’re almost there. Come on.”

“Where…?” Whumpee flinched when Caretaker fired off another two shots, but they likely didn’t even see the dead body falling to the ground. “Please, I–”

“You’re gonna be okay. Just come along. Don’t fucking stop now, not ten steps away from the door.”

Maybe their voice was a bit harsher than necessary, but if they made it outside, they’d have all the time in the world to apologise for it. They tore the door open and shoved Whumpee towards the light, wincing when they felt a sudden pressure on their arm.

Had they been shot? It didn’t matter. They turned around and tried to shoot back, only to realise they’d run out of bullets entirely. “Fuck!”

They used their good arm to throw the gun as hard as they could, hitting the surprised attacker in the head with enough force to grant them a few more seconds. They slipped out through the door and grabbed Whumpee again, pulling them along to their getaway car.

“You’re gonna be okay,” they repeated, a touch more desperately. “You are. You’re gonna be so fucking okay. I swear.”

[completeoveranalysis]

[4]

Of course Doumeki prefers Rakugo.

He’s very traditional like that. 

Also I really like that Himawari has a bag with a sunflower on it! Commitment to the naming theme!

Yuuko’s incredibly patient smile when Watanuki recounts what Haruka said about Doumeki only eating things he trusts. 

Like, Yes, Watanuki. Yes Indeed. Now, how do you think that applies to your cooking…? 

Take your time you probably need it. 

Meanwhile Mokona also wanting to perform with Watanuki is darling and I actually want to see it. 

[bananonbinary]

ive never actually watched anything gordon ramsey (except chef jr) so i thought id check out kitchen nightmares

it is WILD how different the british 2004 version is from the american 2007 version oh my god

and its not because "ooh americans are insane"

the british one (at least the first few episodes ive seen) is a little depressing, because they didnt do a good job framing a narrative arc. a restaurant is suffering believable problems, ramsey comes in, fixes the restaurant...and then theres a check in a month later to reveal that it went back to shit the second he left. it's honest, but not very fun television.

the american one has the opposite problem. i actually couldnt even get through the first episode because it's so over-the-top obviously staged bullshit. like i can practically SEE the director off screen saying "yes! now everyone shout at once!" and theres a cheesy narrator telling me EXACTLY what i'm supposed to feel at all times. i guess its probably entertaining for some people, but my god i can actively feel my brain going numb at how stupid and substanceless it is.

like, i know reality tv is a shithole, but surely there was a middle ground here, where they told mostly real stories, but with a little bit more editing flare to give it a satisfying emotional arc.

[puhpandas]

This might come off as controversial, but Steel Wool is not immune to criticism. I don’t like how Steel Wool is treating Gregory for numerous reasons, but them setting him up to be a bad person feels wrong when no other child character is treated this way. They don’t want to acknowledge him as a victim and like okay, we get it, we hardly see his trauma, but hello? Is he not still a child? How is he any different from other kid protagonists that wanted to live in this franchise?

There’s a higher standard for the games sure, but it’s weird to me that background book characters get treated way better. They don’t want him to be exactly like Cassie, which understandable, but we’ve already seen few Cassie characteristics from him? To ignore that is ignoring a big part of his character. Why would he do anything in the story then if he was just as bad and destructive as they portray him as? He still needs motives, even if they want to strip him of any characterization so we never feel bad for him. They’re actively refusing giving him positive attributes because they’d hate it if he started challenging other characters/fans favs, but that’s what makes a good story compelling. It feels like they’re taking their anger out on him through their writing if that makes sense?

I’m a little concerned he’s gonna be the one who dropped the elevator because it feels true, otherwise why would RUIN be so full of blatant Gregory hate? They want us to hate him, that’s quite all there is to it.

them never showing us him as a character on a normal day and only when hes in a life or death situation making a split second decision that could decide the fate of himself and everyone he loves definitely has something to do with it. they only show his 'blunt' decisions to do something bad for a good reason, and not what he would be making that decision for. we never get to see him just be a normal kid, we never get to see him after sb deserving to have that happy ending, we only see the bad

but I dont feel like this is just. we hate this 12yo character and like the other one better so we're making him evil and shitting on him. they probably do want people to see the bad things he did for a reason that we dont know yet.

them framing Gregory as cutting the elevator whether he did it or not was very blatant in that decision. it feels like they want to give him a 'redemption arc' in the eyes of the fandom in come kind of way since people have disliked him from the very beginning. like they want us to see him do these bad things, and then maybe theyll actually show us that he didnt want to do these things later, and maybe things will be different.

like, I cant be the only one who feels like Gregory and the elevator is a setup for something. obviously to trap cassie down below, but in that case they didnt have to make Gregory be the one do drop it, just blatantly the mimic. they want us to believe this for a reason, and that would be to show us at the very least a reasoning later. I dont believe that reason is just "we fucking hate this child character and want everyone else to as well" that's just. crazy to me.

they wouldnt make Gregory do many kind things for other characters if they hated him. they wouldnt have had him comfort cassie on her birthday and make them canonically close friends if they wanted to make him genuinely heartless.

keep in mind that with SBs nuked characterization and no focus on Gregory since then, we havent even gotten to see his pov in a long time. just Cassies so far, and Cassies story is pretty much built off of perspective. the MIMIC is literally a tool to make characters perspectives about eachother change or distort because it would frame a character as doing something they didn't

mimic is literally going to be used to cause confusion and distrust within characters and it literally did that and accomplished that in ruin. cassie is going to believe Gregory cut the elevator whether he did it or not. and that's why I genuinely believe he didnt. why on earth would they introduce a character that's main purpose would be to do bad things to characters in another characters name to cause drama and then just. have the character have actually have done it lmao.

TLDR: I dont believe steel wool would steep as low as to make a 12yo kid trying to survive actually evil or even just hate him as the creators, and I also think the story of cassie and ruin and beyond is designed off of making Gregory look bad (the mimics purpose as a villain being causing uproar and doing bad things in another characters name to cause distrust from another) from Cassies perspective so he can appear later and disprove those beliefs as a sort of 'redemption arc' to cassie and the fans

[frnkiebby]

im humbly asking (begging) for more lesbian era frankie <3

pls its so close to my heart that this man looks like a dyke

oh man i hope i get this right bc there are so many options.

but ask and ye shall (hopefully) receive @princessg3rard ~🎃

(also, i mean, these will also be/are posts but maybe i’ll do a theme day in this vein at some point. maybe soon. stay tuned)

[butch-corvid]

fucking goddamn cowboy boots. i’m into boots, sure, but not those ones. there’s something that disgruntles me about southern paraphernalia. it reeks of bigotry, a bitter taste in my throat, a vague discomfort that sharpens and pulls at the little string in my mind governing “shame.”

so when they pull them on and point their finger down at the ground, down at their feet, and nod, I scowl. “fuck off.”

come on, bootlicker. do your job.

i don’t know what draws me forward, but I kneel. embarrassment flares in my chest and i can’t look them in the eyes. just as well, i can just focus on the boots in front of me. i give the tip of their right boot a kiss.

good girl.

the dysphoria makes my skin crawl. “don’t call me that,” i say, but i’m licking their boots anyway.

oh, what the fuck do you care? yknow, these boots are worth more than you.

i’m basically worshiping them now, kissing up and down the boots, licking the soft tan leather. it’s humiliating and i’m shaking and i’m so so embarrassed but it doesn’t matter because the submission is hitting me like a truck and all i can do is sink.

I’m wearing a pair of expensive boots looking down in you. and you’re just a dumb whore who got lucky enough to lick them.

i’m just moaning at this point, swirling my tongue around the grooves, heart pounding, cheeks red. for the first time in a while i can look them in the eye.

they look proud.

[lululawrence]

Can I have one of your fic recs of the sunshine project?? I'll say... number 38

you absolutely can! thank you for participating! i hope these fics will help you in some way and make you smile :D

page 38 of my bookmarks include...

You Smell Like by mystic_believexx

For her part, Jay took everything in her stride, barely batting an eyelid when Louis came into the kitchen the night Harry left and said, “I seem to have accidentally become the pack’s Alpha”. 

Ever since Harry left town, Louis’ found himself with the role of pack Alpha, despite being human. So he can’t wait to hand over the reins when Harry returns. Except, it’s not quite that simple…

OR The one where Louis is the Alpha’s mate and everyone is aware of it except for Louis and Harry. Go figure!

Don't Bring the Starbucks by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

The one where Niall is a perfectly normal university student, until he finds himself an ocean away in the middle of Ohio with a strange man telling him to stop wandering off. Then he's in space. It's a whole thing.

walk, walk fashion baby by disgruntledkittenface / @disgruntledkittenface

He couldn’t give a fuck about impressing these people, he’s only there to play the supportive boyfriend. But as he searches high and low for said boyfriend, one thought keeps gnawing at him, the sinking suspicion that Nick had dressed him up not so that Louis would feel more comfortable at the event, but so that Nick would feel more comfortable with Louis at the event.

Maybe this assignment is starting to fuck with his head. 

Louis loves his supportive boyfriend, his passionate and interesting band of friends and coworkers, and his pair of quirky and dedicated dogs. What he doesn’t love is his job as co-editor of the Lifestyle section at a popular site aimed at millennials. But he was getting by until a new assignment landed in his lap: Let Your Boyfriend Dress You For A Week. His best mate Harry assured him it’d be a laugh, a bit of fun, but Louis was sure that Nick would dress him like an utter knob and his mates would take the piss all week.

He didn’t expect to actually learn something about himself.

Choose one of my 103 pages of bookmarks in AO3 and I'll give you a random selection of fics from that page!