#i hope y'all like it!

[riality-check]

cw: discussions of body image

After everything, Steve gets softer.

Eddie spends so much time around him that he doesn't even realize it's happening, not until he's looking through his version of the photo album Jonathan put together toward the end of summer '86 so he could give it to Nancy and Robin and everyone else before the graduating class headed their separate ways.

He looks at it on an August day in 1987, about a year or so after Jonathan shyly handed them out. It's hot as balls outside, and while the AC in the trailer makes a lot of noise, it doesn't make a lot of cold, so it's hot as balls inside, too. Eddie ties his hair up with a purple scrunchie he stole from Nancy last week, and as he's looking at a page in the photo album, he stops.

It's a picture of Steve lounging by the pool, sunglasses on, blissfully unaware of Max and Erica in matching blue bathing suits standing behind him, poised to dump a bucket of water on him. Eddie remembers how Steve chased them down after, soaking wet, and threw them both into the pool without a single shred of hesitation.

He remembers Nancy's knowing look as he flushed from his face all the way down to his chest, thinking very not-PG thoughts about Steve being so strong, and he remembers shaking his soaking wet hair at her to make her shriek.

But, obviously, he didn't remember how Steve looked then. He's been superimposing the version of Steve he knows now onto the one that existed then. Casualty of spending nearly every day with him after the Spring Break from Hell.

Steve, in the summer of 1986, was so skinny.

Not rail thin like Eddie was. Not even close. He's always been broad, always muscular, but in that picture of him lounging on the chair with his arms above his head, shirtless and wearing a pair of swim trunks with the periodic table on them - a gag gift from Dustin that he actually ended up using - Eddie can see the definition of his stomach, his arms, his chest.

He looks good in the photo, but, then again, Steve could wear a potato sack and roll around in a pig sty, and Eddie would still think he looks good.

"What are you looking at?" a voice says from the doorway.

Eddie looks up to see Steve, 1987 Steve, the Steve he knows now.

He's got his arms crossed around his chest, looking at Eddie with a fond sort of smile. His glasses - which he refused to get until Robin dragged him to the optometrist - are perched on his nose, and he's barefoot and shirtless, having just thrown on a pair of shorts after getting out of the shower.

And Eddie realizes that Steve now, in the year since, has gotten softer.

He remembers reading, once, that really strong people don't have super defined muscles. Whatever book he found that in acknowledged that it was counterintuitive, but that fat supports muscle. The two have to exist, side by side, and a muscular body without fat is a body under stress.

Steve in 1986 was under stress. Eddie realizes, and a sort of warm relief floods his chest when he does, that Steve in 1987 isn't under stress anymore.

He's still strong and broad. Always has been, probably always will be. But where there was definition in his stomach last year, there's a little bit of squish now. His biceps have gotten bigger, too, as have his thighs.

Eddie is torn between wanting to bite him and wanting to squeeze him and never let him go.

"Jon's photo album," he says instead, and Steve traverses the general clutter of clothes, music sheets, and cables on the floor of Eddie's room to get to his bed.

He sits down next to Eddie, and Eddie can't resist wrapping an arm around his waist and squeezing, pulling him into his side.

Steve, as always, complies.

Eddie doesn't flip the page in the book. He lets Steve look at the page of pictures from Max's birthday, then watches as his eyes land on the picture of him.

Eddie watches him frown and decides that, nope, they're not doing that today.

Steve has told him, vaguely, about some of the stuff he was pressured into doing for sports. About cutting calories and vigorous exercise, about how soreness and hunger were viewed as prizes instead of pain.

He mentioned, once, how he was glad he never did wrestling because he was pretty sure it would have made it all a hell of a lot worse.

And to think Eddie used to hate jocks before dating Steve.

"You're hotter now," he says without any preamble, and while he probably should have started this conversation differently, it's worth the surprised laugh Steve lets out.

"You're just saying that," he says, and Eddie can't let that stand.

He puts the photo album on the bed and climbs into Steve's lap, holding his face in his hands.

"I'm not," he says seriously. "You're hot all the time. Probably always have been, definitely always will be."

It's true. Eddie's miserable crush on Steve during his first senior year, when Steve had that awful haircut was the subject of much good-natured bullying from Gareth, Jeff, and Archie, as well as bonafide proof that, unfortunately, he could not choose who to have a crush on.

"But I love whatever version of you I have in front of me the most," Eddie continues. "So, you're hotter now."

Steve smiles. it's a timid smile, one that Eddie thinks doesn't suit his face. Steve is a confident guy at his core. Timid smiles look like he's trying on a too-small Halloween costume.

"You mean it?" he asks.

"Of course I do," Eddie says, kissing him once on the forehead. "You're always warm, you're strong as hell, you give amazing hugs, and you make me feel safe."

"Safe?"

"Yeah. You feel safe. Like home."

Steve's face breaks out into a grin, one that's more confident, one that suits his face better, and he kisses Eddie once, slow and sweet.

And if Eddie loves holding and being held by Steve, well, that's no one's business but theirs.

And if Eddie's favorite place to be is laying with his head in Steve's lap, cheek pressed to his stomach as he falls asleep, well, they don't need to say anything about it.

[shotgunrider428]

The idea came to me in a vision. This is that vision made a reality!

Alt version (w/o the effects and highlights) under the cut:

[dbnightingale24]

Bad Habits

A Thomas Shelby Love Story

~~

Part 1

~~

Alright, before everyone starts yelling at me, I promise that the final part to my Ransom story is almost done. It's slightly longer than this one, and I'm being extremely picky about it cause I wasn't necessarily happy with the last one I posted. That being said, my husband and I binged all six seasons of 'Peaky Blinders' in five days, so now we have this. I'm also posting this one first because I used a different approach on this story and it's giving me extreme anxiety lol. I tried to capture the accents and the essence of the show, so I really hope you all like it! Anyway, here goes! Thank you, as always, to @fuckingbye for the amazing moodboard, I love you and will build a monument to your greatness.

Word Count: 24,549 (to those of you who are new: I'm sorry. To those who aren't: this is me being on my best behavior and you know it.)

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI) , Swearing, Drinking, Drug Use, Depression, Religion, Fluff, Anxiety attacks, Cheating, Abusive Relationship, Angst (c'mon now, it's me), Family Drama, Child Trauma (if you squint)...I think that's it. It dives deeper into a lot of things in part 2.

Song(s) That Inspired This Chapter: I Only Know How To Go Too Far

I do not give consent/permission for my works/stories to be posted elsewhere. I do not condone this type of behavior, this is for entertainment purposes only.

~~

His eyes meet yours from across the room and you know you’re fucked. You should’ve stayed away. Yes, it’s your sister’s engagement party, but you knew he’d be here. The way your family loves the Shelby family...you knew. You knew he’d show up and would be looking for you. Still, you came and you know it’s because you miss him. God, you miss him like crazy.

Thomas fucking Shelby.

“Oi! Come over here, love!” Arthur calls, drunken smile on his face as he makes eye contact with you from across the hall.

“You stay away!” you laugh as he makes his way to you.

“Lets have a dance, eh?” he suggests as he finally reaches you.

“You, Arthur Shelby, shall not lay a finger on me tonight, or any other night,” you smirk, grabbing your glass and taking a swig from it.

“And why is that?”

“Tommy ‘ll kill ya,” you giggle, nodding across the room to where he’s sitting with his wife, Grace. 

“He has no say in it now, does he? He’s married.”

“As if that ever stops the Shelby men,” you tease and he flips you off.

“One dance.”

“Not tonight, Arthur. Besides, a man of your status seen with a woman like me? What will the people think?”

“Who cares? I know how I’ll feel,” he smirks and you burst out laughing.

You really have missed the Shelby men.

“What’s so funny, eh?” Thomas asks, causing you to jump cause you didn’t even notice that he had made his way over.

“Nothin’,” you giggle, feeling the burn of Grace’s glare on you, “what ya doin’ over here without your lady, Thomas?”

“Just wanted to see what ’m missin’ out on.”

“I think I’ve found someone more agreeable to my needs,” Arthur smiles as he makes eyes with a woman across the room, “if you’ll excuse me,” he nods as you start laughing again while he walks off.

“So, you’re fucking Arthur now?”

“Watch it, Thomas,” you warn, cutting your eyes at him before taking another sip of your drink.

“You used to call me Tomcat.”

“What do you want?”

“Come with me.”

“And if I don’t feel like it?”

“Come with me,” he demands in a harsher tone and contradictory smile, before starting to walk out.

You roll your eyes as you grab your glass and bottle before following him out. 

You’ve known for a while that it angers him that you don’t fear him in the slightest. You also know that it irritates him that there’s no reason for you to be scared of him; you two have been through so much and have known each other for so long...

~~

The rest is on AO3. For whatever reason, Tumblr won't let me post the whole thing on here -_-

Here's the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49359964

~~

taglist: @emerald-evans, @autumnrose40

[hime-bee]

For the artsy folks (or just people who like music hehe) I finally got around to finishing a Spotify playlist suited toward Leumin! 😍

[butscrewmefirst]

the countess of the cortez | carrd | credit

[blazefirefox]

Finally, after 4 long months, I have finished the first part of my OC voice claims! I unfortunately had to make it a YouTube video because Tumblr wouldn't let me post my 40 minute long video ;_;. The editing is probably a little funky because I was editing at 11 at night on 5 hours of sleep. These characters are part of an Owl House AU I have that surrounds The Collector and the backstory I have made for them. I first made this AU all the way back in June, so some parts are definitely not aligned with canon, but I have tweaked some factors to match with the show more. This first video(s) are the important characters in my story, while the second part will be background/not as important characters. Here's a little key that will help with understanding some of the characters:

Red dot - this character is deceased/residing in the Stars (with one exception)

Blue dot - this character is residing in the mortal plane as a ghost

Red dot with a bit of black in the middle - this character is a resident of the Dark River (hell)

Green dot - they are in some other residence/it's complicated

I also would like to shout out to @wake-up-and-face-the-sun and @onyxstic for sitting through all my explanations of these characters, as well as being huge inspirations for me and for being so kind :3

Without further ado, enjoy ;)

Fluttering Bird, Sol, Millie, Delta, Sentinel Millie, and Kasai's take place during the events of The Owl House

Sierra, Soot, Kindle, Sunfire, and Sandstorm's take place before & after the events of The Owl House

Jasper, Slate, Mirage, Storm, Cyclone, Mourning Dove, Snipe, Quiet Rain, Juniper, Liana, Micah, Clouded Dawn, Thunder Fall, Shaded Dusk, and Hollow Branch's take place before the event of The Owl House

Vermillion, River Ripple, Misty Sky, Jackdaw's Flight, Floating Feather, Teen Falling Dusk (Dusky), Teen Fluttering Bird (Birdie), Teen Millie, Blackout Sol, Blackout Thunder Fall, and Blackout Hollow Branch's take place after the events of The Owl House

Here's where the characters with green dots reside: Sandstorm is in their own purgatory, based on their confusion and questionable deeds in their life, to wander around, slowly losing their sanity; Quiet Rain chose to be reincarnated so that she can watch over her dear friends, as she promised...; Sentinel Millie is basically a beast form of Millie, deciding to rear its ugly head whenever she is feeling an extreme negative emotion, or whenever they feel like it; Kasai was forced asked by the High Archivist Council to right the wrongs Sol has caused, so he has lived far past what a normal Sun Archivist should and has survived many life-ending events, and will not succumb until Sol is dealt with. Mourning Dove, unlike Sol's other victims, chose to stay in the Inbetween to keep an eye on her children.

If you have any questions, PLEASE ask! I would love to answer questions about family trees because I sure I made that confusing in the video lol. Thank you for watching, and I hope you liked it!

[I do not claim any of the voices or the show The Owl House. The only things that belong to me are the AU, most of the characters, and the art.]

[theninjamouse]

ROTTMNT Na Na Na (My Chemical Romance)

(Mild Flash/Spoilers)

It's been 10 years since the last time I made and posted an amv but whaddya know, Rise was more than happy to drag me back into it. I had a blast making this, feel free to toss song suggestions my way and I might make another!

Total editing time: 17 hours

Youtube Link

[jakeyt]

BABE WHERE IS COVET I MIGHT START EATING GLASS 😭

PLEASE DONT EAT GLASS

<333

[hasnomoxxie]

IM SORRY IVE BEEN BUSY MAKING THIS LEVITY RISES INTRO ANIMATIC

song by @maddiesmiles I love her she's so cool

Swaps to note from this:

Bill Cypher // Smile dip Puppies

Read about them here

The altered intro end was moreso to reference the animatics unused one!

Darlene // Paul Bunyan

(Yeah this does mean mason fails to flirt with him Paul, half because he knows he's a cryptid ithink. Paul probably turns into a blue minotaur maybe. As for Darlene, she's probably just a super frequent ad mascot)

Waddles // The axolotl

(the axolotl is called wades! Bc of this change, at the end of the summer Mason doesn't get his memories back immediately- it takes a few months)

Zombies // Gnomes

(I thought flipping the premise of the first episode would be fun, plus, tiny sentient zombies and tall garden gnome like cryptids that kinda stand there sound COOL)

I've been seeing the messages in the inbox, I'll get to answering them soon 😭😭😭

[stil-lindigo]

ARTISTS FOR PALESTINE 🇵🇸 - On the 6th and 9th of March, I'll be doing art requests on stream with other notable artists to raise money for Operation Olive Branch and the PCRF.

I'm incredibly lucky to be counting quite a few big names in the roster, including known Jesus and Odysseus enthusiast @wolfythewitch, the extraordinary fanartist @denimcatfish, and the incredibly talented @troubledminnesotan, as well as Lilypichu from OfflineTV.

You'll be able to watch the streams on the day of the event either on my twitch channel here, or via the links provided by the artists below.

Lilypichu

Cuptoast

Akairosu_

Sevvanto

Wolfythewitch

[evgar]

[palarien]

the courtroom know-it-all...

[whateveriwant]

Ok I lied. Here’s some more Simon fucking himself stupid because apparently he has a chokehold on me. (prev: part 1, part 2)

You’d think a man that regularly fucks his own brains mushy would have a poor performance in the bedroom, right? For a normal man, perhaps, but this is Simon Riley we’re talking about; ‘vigor’ is his middle name.

So even after going for multiple rounds, cycling through multiple positions, and getting covered in multiple fluids, your boyfriend is as ready to go as ever… physically speaking, that is. Because as far as mentally goes, he dropped out a long time ago, somewhere between taking you on your back and then on your knees.

Now you’ve reached the part of the night you like to call your ‘wind down phase’, where you’re just looking for one last, easy release before you throw in the towel. But where you’re tired, sensitive as hell, and already feeling tomorrow’s soreness starting to creep in, Simon’s still pinching and pawing at you like he can’t get enough.

As you lazily ride him, fingers curled over his thick shoulders, Simon’s own hands are pressed hungrily into the meat of your hips. From where he’s sat against the headboard, his lower back propped up by a pillow or two, he’s in the perfect position to guide you back and forth in his lap.

It’s as you feel the slow approach of your final climax that you begin to pick up the pace a little, only to slow right back down again as a sudden noise has you distracted. It takes you a second to place the sound, but once you recognize it, you’re immediately grinding your movements to a halt.

Simon’s phone only rings when it’s you or his work calling. And seeing the current situation you find yourselves in, you know it’s not the former.

The phone rings and rings, neither one of you bothering to move for it. The call gets sent to voicemail, and for a moment you think that’s all it’s going to be, but as the phone promptly begins to trill again, you know something else is up.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you reach over to the nightstand to grab the device. “It’s John,” you tell your boyfriend, seeing his Captain’s contact flash across the screen. You turn the phone around to show Simon, but it seems he has little interest in it, his grip on your waist unwavering as his phone buzzes away in your hand.

“Should you answer? Could be important,” you say. The boss making back to back calls speaks of urgency, if not emergency. But Simon’s focus lies solely on where your two bodies are connected, a sex-fueled tunnel vision if you ever saw one.

Though one look at Simon’s face tells you he’s in no place to have a meaningful conversation right now, as the phone darkens again, only to then light up for a third time in a row, you know this is serious. So despite the haziness in his eyes and the limpness of his jaw, you decide to answer the phone, putting it on speaker.

There’s silence on the other end for a moment before you hear the deep baritone of Price’s voice calling out. “Simon?” He waits a beat. “Simon, hello?” He tries again when he hears nothing in response.

While Price is kept in limbo, you’re busy trying to rouse your boyfriend back from brain death. “Simon, it’s John,” you whisper to him, hoping to not be heard by the other man on the phone. Unfortunately, Simon gives zero indication he’s heard you, his bleary gaze looking right past you.

“You there, Simon?” Price’s voice crackles over the speaker.

Bringing your hand up, you lightly tap Simon on the cheek. “Baby, it’s John. Your boss,” you whisper again, slightly louder this time.

Again, he offers you no response, just a slow blink, an even slower trickle of drool starting to form at the corner of his mouth.

As you hear another gruff, “Simon?”, being spoken over the phone, your taps become a little more insistent, a little more forceful.

“It’s Price, Si. Price. Captain Price,” you hiss, urgently patting him against the cheek.

Somehow, whether by miracle or sheer force, you’re able to knock Simon’s last two brain cells together and coax forth a vaguely human-sounding reaction from him.

“Priiizzzzze,” Simon rumbles out, a garbled approximation of his Captain’s surname.

The line goes quiet for a beat, and you can almost imagine the man on the other side blinking in confusion. Then, “You alright, Simon?” he asks earnestly. “Now’s not a bad time, is it?”

Thankfully, Simon seems to have regained the smallest hint of his bearings again, and he manages to hum a solid, “Mmmf.”

Price takes a moment to consider what he means by such an ambiguous response, and deciding it translates to ‘Speak freely’, he does just that. “Well, I’m callin’ because we’ve just received word of some new developments comin’ out of Hong Kong. Laswell’ll want to give a full briefing tomorrow mornin’, but essentially–”

And that’s about as far as Simon gets before he checks out again.

As Price continues to lay down the basics for him, Simon’s focus shifts back to what he really desires: the person he’s currently buried to the hilt inside.

His Captain’s droning acts as little more than background noise as Simon reaches up and begins toying with one of your nipples. The action is unexpected (not to mention ill-timed given the circumstances), and you try batting his hand away, even as a pleasurable tweak has you choking back a moan.

However, unfazed, Simon drags his fingers down, down, downwards, slowly tracing the midline of your body until he reaches your throbbing sex. His fingers are warm and slightly rough as he begins to stroke you, applying just the barest of touches, but it’s enough to light your nerves on fire.

This time, it’s harder to stop your moans from spilling forth, and you’re forced to mash your lips together lest you reveal your presence to the Captain still chirping on and on. Your free hand darts down to grab Simon’s wrist, meaning to tug it away, but instead, you find yourself pausing, holding onto him as a shudder wracks up your spine.

You know you should push him away – or, at the very least, tell him to ease up a little – but it just feels so fucking good that you can’t bring yourself to do either.

Besides, even if you were to speak up, would Simon be cognizant enough to heed your words? A quick peek at his expression tells you all you need to know. The lights may be on upstairs, but there is no one home right now to answer the phone.

You can feel the hand between your legs grow wetter and wetter as you start to leak droplets of your arousal. The slippery fluid makes Simon’s fingers glide that much smoother, that much slicker as he rubs you.

Even the way he’s touching you now – the way he’s expertly taking you apart – isn’t the result of conscious decision making by Simon. His movements, however deft, aren’t directed by any true rhyme or reason; they’re pure muscle memory at this point.

Simon’s other hand on your hip starts to rock you against him, and you find it’s getting harder to keep yourself under control. Try as you might to tamp your voice down, your ecstasy soon gets the better of you, and before you can stop it, you’re muttering a less than subtle, “Fuck.”

Immediately, you realize what you’ve done, and you slap a hand over your mouth at your mistake. As Price’s side of the call goes similarly quiet, you squeeze your eyes shut, wanting to kick yourself for your carelessness.

Just as you think the jig is up, however, you catch a lucky break, as not a second later, Price resumes, “–boots on the ground to confirm what these sat images have been pickin’ up.”

The feeling of relief that floods you is almost akin to euphoria, and you exhale deeply (but not loud enough to be picked up over the receiver) as you bring your hand back down.

That was close; way too close for comfort, honestly. And yet, despite how close you just came to exposing yourself, Simon is totally, completely oblivious to it all.

This time when you reach for the wrist between your legs, you successfully tug it away. You feel like you’ve tempted fate enough for one night.

Though Simon puts up zero fight as you remove his hand from your sex, that’s only because he then reaches up and quickly stuffs his slickened fingers into his mouth. His eyes fall shut as he savors the salty taste of your arousal, a sort of blissful wave washing over him as he sucks his fingers clean.

Somehow, though you’re not sure how it’s possible, you swear you can feel him grow even harder where he’s buried inside you. The sensation makes you squirm, wanting to bear down on the fullness within you, but you force yourself to resist the urge to tilt your hips back and forth.

This is almost torture at this point, like you’re caught in some kind of kinky Saw trap. Honestly, you’re not sure how much more of this you can take. But thankfully, it appears you won’t have to endure it for much longer.

“All that’s to say, it looks like our timetable’s been moved up. We’ll be shippin’ out earlier than expected,” Price starts to wind the one-sided conversation down.

Though Simon has been relatively mute this entire time, for some reason, at this moment, he takes the opportunity to let out a long, “Mmmmmm.”

While you know the noise isn’t much more than an appreciative moan at your taste, Price is unaware of that fact, and so he asks, “That’s not a problem, is it, Lieutenant?”

You both wait a few beats for Simon to respond, but with less than a handful of working neurons left in his brain, you figure that’s unlikely to happen. Knowing Price is still expecting an answer and your boyfriend is unable to offer him one, you realize you have to take matters into your own hands once more.

So puffing out your chest and straightening up your spine, you muster up your best Simon impression as you expel a deep, gravelly, “Hmm.” The several seconds that follow find you holding your breath in anticipation, praying to whatever god will listen that Price buys your impersonation.

It’s after he eventually says, “Alright, well, I’ll expect you at 0800 for tomorrow’s brief,” that you breathe again, feeling nearly on the verge of passing out.

Frankly, this whole ordeal has left you exhausted. From having to hide from Price to having to pull one over on him, you feel like your heart is liable to give out any moment now.

If only Simon had been more of a conscious participant in this conversation maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad. You and him could have quietly laughed and swore together in your shared misery. Instead, he’s too preoccupied with squeezing your nipple again between his wet fingers to notice anything’s the matter.

You don’t even bother pushing his hand away this time as you can sense the call is mercifully coming to a close.

“Have a good rest of your night, Simon,” Price says through the speaker.

If you weren’t so wrecked right now, you could almost leap with joy from how utterly relieved you feel. From the moment you answered this call, you thought you’d undoubtedly be found out. Truth be told, you’re not sure how you managed to make it through the past several minutes unheard and undiscovered. All you know is that you did and you’re beyond grateful for that.

But before you can hang up the phone to celebrate, Price has one last thing to say. Just as you’re about to press the end call button, just as you’re about to fling the phone to the far side of the room, just as you’re about to collapse into a boneless heap because you’re finally, finally, finally in the clear, Price gives one last farewell that makes your stomach fall out of your ass.

“And you too, (Y/N).”

The call dies, and you wish you died with it.

[ministarfruit]

"...why would I become a monster?"

[gatoiberico]

recently played skyward sword and OOF it's so damn good

prints | also playthrough on my gaming channel!!

[blazefirefox]

"A young dusk and a soaring bird will be heralded by a dove's gentle wing."

Woooo, my animatic skills are very very bad (i swear my art is better than this). I kinda lost motivation near the end, but I'm proud of how the first shot came out! also the collector's shadow form is so hard to draw omg

Thanks to @wake-up-and-face-the-sun for being the first person here to listen to all of my infodumps lol

Lore Context B): This is probably a 100 years or so before Belos discovers The Collector's tablet, when they were alone. Separated from his little sister (another OC), lonely, and extremely bored, they miss the comfort of their deceased mother, Mourning Dove. Sometimes, however, he can feel her presence or can sometimes see a glowing figure out of the corner of his eye. He misses everything before he went with him. They wish they could go home. He misses his mother and sister more than anything.

Characters: The Collector (shadow form), Mourning Dove (OC)

Song: You Are My Sunshine by Jasmine Thompson