#love u <3 mwah

[bebegi]

Anasui bf texts please 🙏😭 and bless you’re amazing

YOU'RE AMAZING 😵‍💫🤍 for you<33

[jordli]

@sunsupe ╱ starter call.

they're in a hurry. both to get the fuck out of dodge and retreat back to their dorm, but also to send the notes on starlight's speech to professor brinkerhoff before the clock strikes noon. [if they took one glance up and the clock said eleven— they were going to have a heart attack.] they needed coffee. and possibly a bump. but one problem to solve at a time. hastily making their way into the student union's jitter-bean, it doesn't take a magazine or television to recognize the yellow and white cladded woman in front of them. starlight! [they'd be more surprised if they hadn't seen her a mere ten minutes ago from the back of a crimefighting lecture hall.]

“my parents are paying seventy-seven thousand dollars a semester for me to listen to you— a non-alumni giving me a speech on how to become a superhero. where my morals should lie.” a big build-up for an incoming insult? “but, fuck— you gave a good speech. better than the deep's, at least. the last time he was here, the lecture hall smelled like tuna for a week.”

[hinamie]

some quick jjk eye paintings

[triona-tribblescore]

He did it on purpose the prick <3

[dancinghannigram]

that's so not funny, dude.

bonus:

dream horse honestly

[abstractfrog]

SILVER BLAZE PART THREE - happy jonkday everyone. one of these days i'll draw a scene that doesn't take place at night

[capquinn]

i can’t stop thinking of taking care of quinn after a game 🥹 he’s so tired and sleepy, all his limbs are sore so you offer to wash his hair in the shower and it’s so calm and domestic.

i desperately need to leave so many kisses on his beautiful face 😔

You’re waiting just outside the dressing room, off to the side where it’s quieter, away from the echo of voices and the hum of disappointed fans slowly filing out of the arena. The air still buzzes with the energy of the game, but it’s tinged with a heaviness — the weight of a hard loss on home ice, the kind that lingers.

When Quinn finally steps out, he looks worn, his shoulders rounded, his hair damp from a post-game rinse, and there’s a look in his eyes that shows he’s replaying every shift in his mind. The usual spark in his eyes is dimmed, replaced by something tired, a mix of frustration and exhaustion. But then he spots you, and a small, almost grateful smile pulls at the corners of his mouth. He doesn’t say a word, just closes the space between you, slipping into your arms and melting against you in a way that’s rare, like he’s finally letting himself breathe.

He lets out a long sigh, his hands settling on your waist, pulling you close. The tension seems to ease just a little, the world around you fading as he leans his forehead to your shoulder, taking a moment just to exist here, with you, away from the weight of the game.

“Hey,” you whisper, your hands moving gently over his back, each touch slow and steady, like you’re drawing out the tension with every pass. After a few moments, you murmur, “want me to drive us home tonight?”

Quinn lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as he pulls back slightly to look at you. “I’m okay,” he replies, his voice low and steady, but you catch the tired glint in his eyes.

“As long as you’re sure,” you smile, brushing a loose strand of hair from his forehead.

With a gentle squeeze of your hand, he tugs you towards the exit, falling into an easy rhythm beside you. His arm slips around your shoulders, drawing you close, and you lean into him as you make your way through the quiet hallways and out to the car, his fingers tracing light, absent patterns on your shoulder as you walk.

The drive back is quiet, the streets dim and familiar. At a red light, he reaches for your hand, giving it another squeeze before settling it on the console, where you gently rub your thumb over his knuckles. He doesn’t say much, but every now and then, he glances over, and you catch the soft smile he gives you, the one that says thank you without needing the words.

As soon as you’re home, Quinn barely manages to kick off his shoes before he’s pulling you in close again, his hand slipping around to the small of your back, head tucked on your shoulder with eyes closed for a moment, just breathing you in.

“You’re really wiped, huh?” you say softly, fingers lightly scratching at the base of his neck.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, lips grazing your shoulder, “just one of those nights.”

You smile and take a step back, slipping your hands under his blazer to slide it off his shoulders.

“Alright, let’s get you sorted,” you say, pressing a light kiss to his collarbone as you unbutton his shirt.

He hums in appreciation, the familiar rhythm between you both easing the edges of his exhaustion.

"Shower?" you murmur, your voice soft, already drifting down the hall toward the bathroom.

Quinn's nod is slow, almost lazy, as he tips his head back against the door frame, watching you with a half-lidded gaze as you slide out of your jacket.

He takes his time following, each step weighted, and by the time he joins you, the bathroom is filled with a gentle haze of steam, the air warm and inviting, ready to offer him a respite.

You’re already under the warm stream, your head tilting slightly as the water cascades down, welcoming the steam as it swirls around you. When you see him approach, you shift over a little, making space for him to join you, and he steps in slowly, eyes already closing as the water pours over his head.

Once he’s settled under the stream, you gently close the distance between you, stepping in close until your chest is flush against his back. Your hands come up to settle around his torso, holding him loosely, a silent reassurance that you’re here for him.

For a moment, he just breathes, taking in the warmth of the water and the quiet, steady support of your presence behind him. There’s no need for words as he lets his shoulders drop, leaning back into you, letting himself relax, if only for a while.

With a gentle touch, you reach for the shampoo, lathering it in your hands before threading your fingers through his hair, careful and soothing. You work in slow circles, letting the suds build, your fingers tracing paths over his scalp, easing out the tension he holds there. Each movement is deliberate, unhurried, as if your hands could wash away every bit of disappointment weighing him down.

He lets out a quiet sigh, leaning a little more into you, his posture softening as your hands move gently through his hair, each touch a small gesture of care.

It’s an unspoken language between you — the way you know he doesn’t want to talk about it just yet, doesn’t want to break the silence with words. Instead, he leans into your touch, lets himself be cared for, lets the day dissolve under the warmth of the water and your hands.

You guide him to tilt his head under the stream, rinsing away the shampoo, and your fingers comb carefully through his hair, making sure every last bit is gone. He opens his eyes briefly, glancing sideways at you with a soft, grateful look that says more than words ever could.

Reaching for the body wash, you work up a lather in your hands before beginning to massage his shoulders, moving down his arms, his back, over his hips… the soap slipping over his skin as you press gently, releasing the tension that still lingers. His breathing slows, his chest expanding with each deep breath as he lets himself sink into the feeling of your hands easing away the last of his strain.

As you both step out of the shower, wrapped in the warmth and lingering steam, you grab a towel and hand it to him, then reach for one yourself. You catch his eye, and he gives you that tired look, the one that says all he wants is to be close to you.

Smiling softly, you step closer, your hands gently framing his face as you press a kiss to his jaw, then his cheek, and finally to the corner of his mouth, each touch soft and grounding.

His eyes flutter closed, and he leans into each kiss, a small, tired smile tugging at his lips. He lets out a slow sigh, his shoulders relaxing as he opens his eyes again, a hint of warmth returning to his gaze.

“Thanks,” he murmurs, voice low and softened by exhaustion.

He leans in, his face close to yours again, and then his mouth brushes against yours, warm and unhurried, a touch that lingers. His hand comes up to cradle your cheek, steadying himself in the closeness, his breath mingling with yours savouring the quiet connection.

You just smile, resting your hand over his before leading him out to get dressed.

Once you’re both in cozy clothes, you settle on the sofa, flicking on the TV to something low and soft — a random movie just for the background. Quinn sinks down between your legs, resting his head in your lap, a small, tired smile crossing his face as he looks up at you.

Your fingers find their way back into his hair, carding through the damp strands, and he closes his eyes for a moment, letting out a long breath. The weight of the night still lingers, but here, in this quiet space, it feels a little lighter.

After a while, you notice that he’s been staring at the ceiling, biting his cheek just like he always does when he’s overthinking. His hand rests on your knee, fingers tapping absentmindedly, the weight of tonight’s loss still weighing on his shoulders.

“Hey,” you say softly, brushing your fingers a little more deliberately through his hair. “Keep staring like that, and you’re going to burn a hole in the ceiling.”

A small, reluctant smile tugs at his lips, but he doesn’t meet your eyes, his gaze still distant. “Just… thinking,” he mutters.

You tilt your head, keeping your tone light but gentle. “Dangerous territory,” you tease, your fingers tracing soft circles along his temple. “Wanna talk about it?” you ask quietly, leaving him with the choice to open up if he wants to.

He lets out a long sigh, his hand squeezing your knee slightly as he finally speaks. “It’s… I don’t know. I know it’s just one game, but when you’re the one who’s supposed to set the example, it feels like…” He trails off, searching for the right words. “It feels like I let them down. Like I should’ve done more. I keep replaying it, you know?”

You offer him a soft smile, your hands smoothing down over his chest, tracing slow, gentle lines along the fabric of his shirt. You keep the motion steady, one hand resting lightly over his heart, the other moving in a calming rhythm across his collarbone and down to his chest, settling there as he continues to talk.

“I mean, I know it’s a team loss,” he says, his voice a little lower, a little rougher. “But as captain, it… It’s on me to make sure we don’t fall apart out there, to keep everyone together. And tonight…” He sighs again, biting his cheek. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just… maybe I’m taking it too personally.”

You just keep running your fingers through his hair, letting him get it all out. The movie plays softly in the background, forgotten as he lets out everything he’s been holding back, every bit of frustration and self-doubt he’s been carrying since the buzzer.

And then he finally falls quiet, a little sheepish as he realizes he’s been rambling.

Quinn looks up at you, a slight, embarrassed smile on his face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go on like that.”

You shake your head, smiling softly. “Nothing to apologise for.” Your fingers brush through his hair again, reassuring and gentle. “You know I’m always here for you.”

He chuckles, a bit self-conscious, before bringing your hand to his mouth and pressing a soft kiss to your palm. “You’re too good to me,” he murmurs, his voice warm and grateful.

You give his hand a squeeze. “Someone’s got to be.”

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

requests are open - let’s daydream!

[suntails]

dinnertime

[blondedsixties06]

Mizumono chibis!

[lumiraette]

THE MOST HANDSOME (AND MOST UNDERRATED) BSD CHARACTER 🗣️🗣️🗣️

[mahou-shougiogio]

it's absolutely upsetting seeing people in the BG3 fandom say things like

"I can't believe that Asterion likes women, he's just gay"

"Shadowheart is 100% a lesbian"

statements like that in a game where all the companions are open about liking all genders is plain bi/panphobic! Whether the characters prefer one gender over the other, they're still bi/pan!!

If you're romancing Asterion, Gale, Wyll, etc as a man, it doesn't make them gay, similarly if you’re romancing Shadowheart, Karlach, Laezel, etc as a woman, it doesnt make them a lesbian.

You can relate to and express your own queer identity through bi/pan characters without changing their sexuality I promise 💕

♻️ reblogs are allowed/encouraged ♻️

[dykesevika]

📸

[MEN DNI]

[almond-gallery]

extremely late barricade day post. barricade month

[dizzybevvie]

Camp counselor Garrance. save me

[katsu28]

to be alone together

pairing: Steve Harrington x reader

summary: steve has to work on valentine’s day, but maybe it’s not as bad as he thought it would be

warnings: none, 1.8k

a/n: u know i had to do a lil something for my steve girlies too <3 went for a more steve centric pov bc he is the definition of pining simp 

navigation

(gif credits to @harringtondaily)

“Kinda sucks that you gotta work tonight.” Robin’s voice through the phone pressed to Steve’s ear was staticky, but still provided a good distraction from the empty video store around him.

It was Valentine’s Day and Steve had been at Family Video since opening, watching couple after couple come in to pretty much clear the romcom shelves, and yeah, he was a little bummed about it, but there was no point moping around about it any longer than he already had been. 

“It’s whatever, honestly. Not like I had any plans to begin with.” He sighed, shifting the receiver so it was wedged between his cheek and shoulder as his fingers drifted down to fiddle with the pen on the counter absentmindedly. 

“Steve, that’s sad.” Robin replied. Steve wrinkled his nose, a slightly offended noise escaping the back of his throat. “No! I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant that you should be out and about, having a good time.” 

“You know what’s actually sad? You talking to me instead of paying attention to your date.” He shot back, only half serious. “Where’s Nance?” 

“Oh she’s right here. Say hi, Nance.” 

Steve heard a faint ‘hi Steve’ in the background and he returned the greeting. “What are you guys doing tonight?” 

“She made this really fancy pasta thing for dinner, we’re just waiting on the chicken to finish in the oven and I thought I’d see what was going on with you.” Robin sounded casual, but he knew this was her way of checking up on him since he was the only one on shift all day and she knew how he felt about today. 

“Rob, I don’t know how many times I gotta tell you, but I’m fine. It’s really not a big deal.” 

“Why don’t you just close up early, come join us for dinner? We have more than enough food.” 

“You’re seriously inviting me to crash your romantic dinner date with your girlfriend?” He snorted, rolling his eyes playfully. “What does Nancy think of that?” 

There was some shuffling on the other end, a bout of silence, then Robin was back on the line. “She’s giving me a weird look, nevermind. Now that I think about it, it wasn’t my best idea.” 

“I love you both, but you know I can’t.” 

The bell above the door jingled softly, drawing Steve’s attention away from his phone call and to whoever just walked in. 

Shit. It was you. 

You were dressed like you were supposed to be on your date, not here, hair and makeup done up all pretty, floaty dress in his favorite color swishing around your knees as you made your way into the store. It made him wonder if you chose that color on purpose, but he knew that you didn’t. You couldn’t have known you’d be seeing him tonight. Wishful thinking on his end though. 

“Rob, I gotta go,” He blurted, straightening up behind the counter. 

“Wait, what—” 

“I gotta go, she’s—someone’s here, I gotta help her.” 

“She? Oh my god, wait! Is it—” 

“Have a nice date, tell Nance I said bye!” With that, Steve hung up, slamming the receiver onto the base with enough force to send it skittering a few inches. “Hey, Y/N.” 

“Steve!” Your previously downturned lips lifted into a smile, one that had Steve’s heart thudding a little faster in his chest. It always did. “I didn’t know you were working tonight.” 

See, you were also part of the reason he decided to take the extra shift today, but through no fault of your own. You’d mentioned earlier in the week while you were hanging out with him and Robin that someone had asked you out for tonight, and Steve didn’t really know how to feel about it. 

You were friends, but had Steve been harboring a crush on you since pretty much the first day you met? Yes. 

Did he feel an itching sense of jealousy that you were going on a date with someone that wasn’t him? Also yes. 

Would he do anything about it? Probably not. 

Okay, so maybe he knew exactly how he felt about it. Hell, he’d picked up an extra shift to distract himself from it. 

“Yeah, I got called in last minute." A lie. "Aren’t you supposed to be on a date right now?” A casual, not at all hoping that it crashed and burned question. That would be mean. (But also a little gratifying for him.)

You chuckled, a tad bitter as you leaned forward, propping your elbows on the counter, the action sending a whiff of your perfume his way. Steve’s knees almost gave out. “Supposed to, yeah. But the guy never showed up.” 

Steve had to fight a noise of surprise. What kind of dumbass would skip out on a date with you? “Really? That’s—that sucks, I’m sorry.” 

“S’okay. Wasn’t really looking forward to it anyways.” 

“Oh?” 

“I didn’t really know him that well, honestly. He was a friend of a friend, asked me out in front of a bunch of people, and I didn’t really wanna turn him down and make it awkward.” 

“You’re way too nice, Y/N. And he’s an idiot for standing you up.” 

“Thanks, Steve.” You smiled warmly at him, patting his hand. Steve had to pretend his pulse wasn’t racing right now. “What about you? Why’re you here and not out with anyone?” 

“I, uh—I didn’t really feel like going out tonight. Don’t think I’d be a very good date anyways.”

“Oh, you’re just being modest. What girl wouldn’t wanna spend Valentine’s Day with Steve Harrington?” 

The one girl he wanted to spend this day with, he thought. You. 

“You’d be surprised.” He muttered. 

“Well then they’re idiots too.” 

A small smile quirked his lips. “Thanks.” 

“Hey, I just came to pick up some movies and spend the rest of my night shoveling down ice cream, but since we’re both here now and alone, d’you wanna…be alone together? Grab a bite to eat or do something?” 

Steve’s shoulders slumped defeatedly. “I’d love to, but I—I can’t. I gotta stay here til the end of my shift, Keith’s been on my ass about taking off early and as much as I hate the guy, I don’t wanna get fired.” 

“Oh, okay. Don’t worry about it, I’m, uh—it’s cool.” Was he hallucinating, or did you look disappointed? 

“Would you maybe wanna, I dunno, stay here? We can watch whatever you want and I know where Robin keeps her work snack stash. That way we can be alone together and I don’t get chewed out again?” Steve blurted hopefully. He was honestly expecting you to say no. Why would you wanna spend the rest of your already shitty night with him in a dingy video store? But then your face split into the biggest smile and you nodded, rocking forward on the balls of your feet earnestly. “Go pick something out, I’ll grab the snacks.” 

You scurried off to browse the near bare shelves, leaving Steve shaking his head amusedly in your wake as he watched you skim the tapes with a look of utmost concentration. He slipped into the back room to grab Robin’s last unopened bag of chips, making a mental note to buy more before tomorrow’s shift before returning to the video area.

He skimmed the store, spotting you in the romcom section, and when he made his way over, you were contemplating the last two tapes on the shelf. 

You beamed at him upon spotting him. “Pretty in Pink or Sixteen Candles?” 

“Am I allowed to say neither?” 

“You said whatever I want, Steve.” You said pointedly, propping your hands on your hips. 

“I did, didn’t I?” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. You let out a hum of pleasure, sliding your chosen movie off the shelf and wandering towards the TV in the corner. Steve hurried after you quickly, plucking the tape from between your fingertips and running away, not unlike a child would. 

“Steve!” You huffed, whirling on your heel. He grinned mischievously at you, waving it in the air like a taunt. You caught up with him within seconds, lunging for the tape that he held up above his head and away from your outstretched hand. Your body was pressed against his as you reached for it, as you leaned against him in a fruitless attempt to overpower him. “Steve, gimme the tape!” 

“No!” He laughed, but that laughter very soon trickled off as soon as he realized your proximity. You were so close, he could see the color of your eyes clear as day, looking right back at him. You’d fallen quiet too, as if you’d come to the same realization. 

You were nose to nose, faces a hair’s breadth away from each other, the stolen tape in Steve’s hands long forgotten. Every fiber in his body was telling him to pull away, because the longer he stayed here the weirder it would be when he finally did manage to retreat, but no matter how hard he willed himself to move, he couldn’t. Instead, his eyes flicked down to your lips. Your breath hitched almost imperceptibly. 

“Steve?” You whispered, gaze darting around his own face. 

“Yeah?” 

“Kiss me.” 

You didn’t have to tell him twice.

Steve dropped the tape immediately, closing the gap between you and pressing his lips against yours. His hands came up to cup your face, holding you firm but kissing you soft, like he was preparing himself to pull away if you did. But from the way you were returning his kiss, how your hands clutched at the front of his vest to keep him this close, it didn’t feel like you’d be pulling away anytime soon, and that spurred him on even more. 

One hand slid down to settle at your waist, the other curling around the back of your neck as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss just a little bit. 

Steve’s lips felt tingly when he pulled away, tasted of your cherry lip gloss when his tongue darted out to lick them. He was sure to have a little bit on his mouth now, but it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Not by a long shot. Cherry might’ve just become his new favorite flavor. 

“I really like you.” He breathed, chest heaving against yours. Your lips curved into a soft smile—the same smile that nearly sent Steve’s brain short circuiting every time it was aimed his way. 

“After that kiss, I’d sure hope so,” You replied, smoothing out his wrinkled shirt as best you could. “I like you too, just so you know. Part of the reason I was so okay with my date ditching me. He wasn’t you.” 

Steve could only beam at you, going in for another kiss. In his excitement, he missed his mark, hitting the corner of your mouth instead, but he didn’t care. The girl he wanted all along actually liked him back, and it only took one failed date and an extra shift to find out. 

Maybe working on Valentine’s Day wasn’t so bad after all. 

[suntails]

🐺⚔️