#misunderstanding and miscommunication

[digitalmyyth]

Shenanigans ensue

[captainmaxatx]

Logan and Wade almost always do the nasty with the lights out and Wade is a little disappointed but he gets it and he resigned himself to a lifetime of dark sex long before Logan came along, sucks to know that your partner doesn’t want to look at you while getting down to business but its something Wade can live with.

Meanwhile, after a long day of stupid big bright lights Logan loves to have the lights out when making love with Wade because there isn’t any extra light bugging him and his natural night vision means he can see Wade perfectly, just the way he likes it

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

Tim is the first to find out the Red Hood’s identity and from then on sticks to Jason during patrol like glue (much to Jason’s chagrin, dammit, it would feel wrong to beat up Robin when he’s that starry eyed…)

Cue: PANIC from the rest of the Batfamily, who still think Hood is a forty-something year old crime lord and now assume they’re dating.

[yandereforme]

Yandere Batfam x Reborn! Neglected! Reader

Day 0: Life 1

TW: grooming, death (not in great detail but characters die), angst

Your first life had become a shitshow that was kicked off by a car crash. The car crash killed your mother and injured you. However, it also lead to a mess when your father was asked to donate blood.

You see, your parents had a drunk threesome with Bruce Wayne, and turned out you were bruises biological child. This led to being shipped off to live with him.

You try not to think about how your father, the man who raised you, didn’t fight for custody. You try not to think about how he didn’t even speak to you after the funeral and how no matter how many times you called, he never picked up.

Bruce didn’t raise you. You were 13 when your mother died and you knew from the beginning that he did not want you around. He mostly had his butler Alfred look after you, even picking you up from the airport when you first arrived. Your impression of him was that he was closed off with everyone.(that was only partially true. He was closed off, but he was a lot more open with the people he considered his kids.)

None of your siblings tried or even thought about having a relationship with you. You tried reaching out, desperate in your grief for some sort of connection, but they weren’t there. They were like ghosts watching you, drown in a sea of loneliness and grief.

You didn’t chase after them. Your mother had taught you better than to beg for love.

You search for validation in school, but you would never be the popular type. Besides, moving to Gotham, had put you at a disadvantage as you were surrounded by children who had grown up together, most of which were rich kids raised rich. You felt utterly alone, and it was very hard, not to sink into the depression that you could feel at the back of your mind. The only kindness came from your math, teacher, Mr. Jamison, who would let you sit in his classroom during lunch and was always willing to listen to you.

It wasn’t until years later that you’d understand he was grooming you. He never got far, since he died in a scarecrow attack two years after you arrived, but as you got older, you recognized how odd it was for a teacher to be that touchy or How weird it was for a teacher to offer for student to stay at their house

You left home at 17 with the suitcase that you had had at 13 when you arrived and a positive pregnancy test that you took after a one night stand. Alfred was the only one who said goodbye to you.

Out of all of the people in that house, Alfred was one of the only people you could forgive. He tried at least. You recognized that.

After you moved, you got into magic, which eventually led to your patron, a goddess whose name was lost to time who had been trapped for centuries in a statue, you found at an old Wayne property that hadn’t been visited in decades. Your patron taught you to harvest the magic that was already in you, giving you a feeling of being alive that you’ve never truly experienced before.

You had two beautiful months with your twins and your patron. Two months of bliss and happiness and feeling truly loved for the first time in a long time.

Two months of true joy until the day your son was killed during a battle between the justice league and a sorcerer

Your patron had taught you about magic and how your type of magic could call on other pees and tell your emotions amplified your magic. You would only realize too late that the magic user had its own patron, a being of insanity and chaos that saw your grief and tried to funnel magic into you to cause problems. They didn’t realize the madness that they had given to the sorcerer would funnel into you (then again, you had never been the most stable)

You became like a supernova, destroying the world with your grief. You took over the world and coded it in blood with only your rage as a guide. Most of the world was rubble by the time you started to calm down, but the madness in your mind and in your heart never ended.

You spent almost 18 years ruling over the world in your hatred and madness. The survivors who you did not take as yours formed or rebellion that you often sent your servants to fight. You preferred to look for ways to bring back your son or to spend time making sure your daughter was safe. You wanted to shield her from all of the monsters outside. (Shield her from the monster you became)

She did know, though. She knew about the madness that consumed you and the atrocities that you had done. She saw the flickers behind your eyes, the constant fear in your gaze. She saw your pain. She never saw you as a monster, always seen you as her mother, but she knew you were not Good for the rest of the world. You were a good mother, but you were not a good person

You never realized her friendship with the rebellion. You never heard about how she would sneak down to the dungeons where your servants kept rebels. You didn’t know about her friendship with Bart Allen. Didn’t know about how she confided in him about your tragedy, even if her version of events was distorted. Your daughter never truly knew everything that happened to you. She didn’t know anything about her father. (a one night stand that had been more of an act to reclaim your power and independence than it had been about any real desire or love.) she didn’t know how her brother had died, only that it had been sudden and that the justice league had been involved (She knew your grudge against them for her brothers death. She just didn’t know that her brother had been collateral damage.)

Your daughter died during one of the only fights against the rebellion that you ever joined in. She died from a ricocheted bullet bleeding out in your arms as you tried desperately to help her. Your magic ran wild, energy swirling in the air. (Unknowingly fueling the Time Machine the rebels built to send Bart back)

You didn’t feel the tug on your magic as the machine activated, but you did feel when your madness was ripped from you, and you could finally see everything you had done with clear eyes. You screamed and grief and pain, unaware of the red haired boy with tears in his eyes watching you before he turned and ran through the portal the machine made. You were unaware of the machine, getting ready to explode, but your patron, who had become so weak after spending so long tugging at your madness, gathered the last of her magic and attached your soul to the machine.

You felt a light kiss on your forehead and a whisper of “Stay safe my priestess. Find peace and happiness in this new life.” Before the world shattered and everything went white.

You wake up abruptly, your skin against cold linoleum and itchy fabric that you remembered oh so well pressed tightly against your skin. Your eyelids fluttered open, and you see a dead man’s face looking down at you with concern.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” Mr. Jamison asked, his unshaven face looking the same as when you were fourteen.

[fangirlingpuggle]

Yet another Apothecary diaries AU/Fic prompt where Maomao is raised by Lakan and Fengxian (Like in other AUs here and here)

Only she never kidnapped, Lakan and Lahan heard rumors about the consorts children being sick Maomao instantly starts putting pieces together and wants to check is it could be face powder.

Lahan: Sorry sis can't just walk in the rear palace and check men aren't allowed

Moamao:...

Lahan:...

Lahan:I am not helping you sneak into the rear palace

Maomao: I will let you start selling some of my antidotes

Lahan:... Ok so how are we sneaking you in to rear palace?

Maoamao sneaks in confirms suspicions and leaves notes then sneaks back out. Jinshi is very confused why he can't see the servant he saw before she seems to have disappeared.

Only they aren't as sneaky as they think emperor puts two and two together because he has heard Lakan bragging about his amazing daughter many many many times before. He actually doesn't mind because Lakan is the only person who will talk about their daughter without trying to convince him to make them a consort.

So when Lihua gets sick he asks Maomao to help. Jinshi is so confused when he sees her and just starts getting to know her more.

She keeps disappearing then reappearing to solve mysteries (In disguise every time she uses same disguise when visiting her uncle/her sisters)

The thing is Maomao is still going to formal events with her family and Jinishi is sometimes there and he has not figured out who she is.

Maomao thinks he's already figured it out and there are so many misunderstanding and miscommunication.

The emperor and all the consorts know who she is and the consorts call her other for problems/ to just talk and because they are all enjoying with fucking with Jinshi (At least Gyokuyou and she has dragged Lihua into her favorite pass time of watching this chaos)

Bonus Loulan and Maomao have met before in both formal and non-formal settings and just a very awkward moments when they recognize each other.

Extra bonus: Lakan busting into the emperors office

'WHY DID YOU TAKE MY DEAR DAUGHTER TO THE SHRINE OF CHOOSING!??'

[mossycobblestonewrites]

DC X DP PROMPT #15

Despite what most people would think, Danny was an excellent driver. It took a lot of hard work and extra classes, but he is by far the safest driver of the family. So safe in fact that others often make fun of him for it.

'You'll get there eventually with Grandma driving!' 'It's like going even a fraction over the speed limit is gonna give you a heart attack or something'

It was fine. Danny was proud about being a safe driver. It's what he worked for! His family already contributed to enough property damage.

Driving in Gotham was a very different experience from driving in Amity. His new friends made fun of him even more now.

It was one of these playful ribs that he shot out his favorite reply (one he hadn't gotten the chance to use since moving).

"Well, you know what they say; you should only do one illegal thing at a time!" Danny thought he was hilarious (as his species was still technically illegal), the Batkid (you decide) overanalyzed (as usual).

[kateksmallcuteowl]

June 26: Soulmates/Soulmate Marks AU

Your mark shows how old will your soulmate be when you fall in love with them. (Meaning both romantically and sexually)

For an event by @bagginshieldweek24

More headcanons after the cut. Seriously, there’s a lot, as I developed a whole idea but had no time to write a fic because of exams.

— Dwarfs come of age in around 80 y.o., having a soulmate from another race is a very rare occurrence; throughout the history of Middle-earth, there have been at most a dozen such cases, so most dwarves are unaware of this possibility. Having a mark with a number younger than the age of majority is a lifelong shame, essentially an admission of pedophilia. Unfortunately, this happens more often than having a soulmate from another race.

— Thorin spent his entire adult life, from the moment the mark appeared, wearing an extra layer of bandages under his bracers to prevent anyone from seeing the number. Fortunately, among dwarves, it is not considered inappropriate to hide the marks, as many value their privacy.

— The mark and thoughts about it were the reason why Thorin often appeared especially gloomy when the topic of romance came up.

— He truly tried to compensate for his "defectiveness" with his virtues.

— Of course, Thorin is a virgin.

— Bilbo, on the other hand, didn't think much about this; hobbits don't see anything wrong with living without their soulmate or seeing their soulmate as a friend. They are generally a loving people and don't worry about the concept of "the one and only."

— Although the topic of soulmates is considered highly romantic in hobbit literature, Bilbo was somewhat disappointed when he realized he would likely never meet his soulmate. (Hobbits are also unaware of inter-racial soulmates.)

— I tried to make young Bilbo look more like Frodo, so here he has smaller curls and a different style of shirt.

— Thorin and Bilbo both hid their marks, so when they felt an attraction to each other, especially after the Carrock, both were initially upset, thinking they weren't soulmates. Thorin, of course, was much more upset.

— During the two weeks they stayed with Beorn (yes, I'm mixing the movie and the book, what are you going to do about it? Slow burn needs time to be slow), they managed to reach the point of kissing near the river or something like that. But when Bilbo tried to unlace Thorin's tunic, Thorin stopped him and said that, unlike hobbits, for dwarves, sexual interaction is a very serious step in emotional attachment. It wouldn't be fair not to tell Bilbo what kind of monster he was getting involved with, because after seeing what Thorin had to show him, Bilbo might not even want to look him in the eye. Bilbo was honestly frustrated. (It is implied that Thorin used some term characteristic of a pedo... ahem)

— With a terrifyingly serious face, Thorin unwrapped the bandages on his wrist, and Bilbo, with a sinking heart, prepared to see a number like 5 or 12. Instead, there was a very respectable and completely normal age. Thorin turned away, not wanting to see the disappointment in the hobbit's eyes. Bilbo spent a few seconds calculating how long dwarves live and how old Thorin actually was.

— Thorin thought Bilbo wanted to shame him for having the audacity to enter into a relationship at such an age, knowing his soulmate's extremely young age. With closed eyes, he forced out that he was 195 and knew how disgusting he was because of it.

— Instead of a slap or something worse, which Thorin wouldn't have opposed, thinking any normal person had the right to treat him like that after seeing it, Bilbo reached for his own wrist and, with suspicious enthusiasm, pulled off the leather bracelet he had worn since the Shire. On the pale skin was clearly marked Thorin's age, written in dark ink with characteristic dwarvish notches.

— Some time passed in silence as they both realized that such a coincidence simply couldn't be.

— They were in for a very pleasant evening away from the company🌚🌝

— Later, when the entire company gathered by the fire, Bilbo and Thorin would come to them, holding hands, the hobbit nearly glowing with happiness in front, and a red-to-the-tips-of-his-ears Thorin slightly behind. This would be the first time anyone in the company saw Thorin without bandages, and if not for the matching age on Bilbo's wrist, now also not hidden by a bracelet, they wouldn't have believed Thorin could be normal with such a number on his skin.

— And the dwarves would realize how young Bilbo was by their standards.

— Truly, the ways of the Valar are mysterious.

— At the very end of the night, Fili would nudge Kili with his elbow and hint that since their uncle had an inter-racial mark, he might not be so angry and yell when he finds out that his brother has a four-digit number on his wrist.

[carrot-felisidad]

I love how MXTX writes miscommunication/misunderstanding because it's not your typical miscom trope in where they only heard the bad parts of a convo, or where one of them is just really an extremely and irritatingly an overthinker. For example,

-Wei Wuxian misunderstands Wangji's intention to bring him back to Gusu because all his life he is loved by being useful, and if he is not being useful he is punished. He will never think that Lan Wangji loves him because he's never done anything useful for him. Lan Wangji misunderstood Wuxian's demonic cultivation because he never knew about the golden core transfer, and even then, he just wanted to protect him but he could never tell Wuxian that because he saw how his mother perished with the same promise of "love and protection"

-Luo Binghe just accepts that his Shizun hates him because he's a demon, yet what's confusing is that this Shizun told him that everyone is equal, be it demons or humans, so why is he especially despicable? Shen Qingqiu was just following the original novel in where Luo Bingge hates him, so that's how he interpreted all his actions. He is not aware that Luo Binghe's temperament was due to jealousy and heartbreak.

-Xie lian and Hua Cheng communicate very well. Even when they were pretending, even when the world is against their 'friendship', they knew each other's real intentions.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Heartbreaking Goodbye.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[muzaktomyears]

John & Paul: A Love Story in Songs, Ian Leslie (2025)

[hitlikehammers]

oh golden boy (don't act like you were kind)

part i : you were mine but—

for @kultiras at the ❄️ Winter @steddieexchange 🖤🩵

Arguably the sharpest knife in his chest about this whole fucking shitshow?

Eddie thought they were doing good.

Like: so fucking good.

Eddie thought they were on the cusp of…that they were building something.

He’s such an idiot. Such a…

A heartsick fucking idiot.

But if he’s gracious—which he’s not, least of all to himself—when he puts all the pieces together, lines the evidence up and analyzes it, thinks of it in terms of a narrative that he can understand and recognize the flaws in, where he’d rewrite the ending or tweak the rising action so everything slides into place realistically, cause and effect in balance just right: Eddie can see that the way this has all shaken out is fucked up. So, so fucked up.

Because there honestly hadn’t been any signs that they weren’t laying the foundations of something long-term, something lasting; that they weren’t in this deep and rooted, strong and committed and serious in a real, tangible way, and, just…

Forever. Eddie was…he was playing for keeps, here. He thought, he just, he thought—

Fuck.

He just…really believed he wasn’t alone in it all.

Again: idiot.

It’d started so fucking predictably, really, because if there’s one thing that Eddie clocked about Steve Harrington from the get-go of actually getting to know him versus operating on the popular-gorgeous-jock framework he’d distilled the guy down to in his head before 1986: the one consistent thing he’d figured from what he’d heard and what he’d seen put together was that: Steve Harrington?

Bastard’s protective to a fucking fault.

So when he blinked back to the land of the living with Steve goddamn Harrington at his bedside? Standing guard, looking a little haggard—like he cared, at least enough to worry—but still fucking devastatingly pretty, good god-

When he woke up to that, Eddie was surprised and also: not at all surprised.

The way he lit up when he saw Eddie was conscious, like world was less before that moment and something right slid back into place? Eddie…Eddie felt like his body was pretty wholly broken but that fucking cracked something down his middle, decimated parts of him in new ways that hadn’t been already devastated on another plane, were sitting ripe for wholesale ruin.

He’d let Steve blame the breathiness that’d overcome him on coming back from the brink of death, because Steve didn’t need to know the sensations, the emotions, that were running riot through Eddie’s veins.

But then it hadn’t stopped.

Steve standing guard at his side became a constant, like Eddie couldn’t quite comprehend save that it felt like his body was knitting itself around the fact of this more-than-good dude and Eddie wasn’t entirely sure what to do with that, save kind of just…poke curiously at the new shape of everything he was for it, and once he worked through the fear of the unfamiliar in it?

To kinda…savor it. Roll around in it and relish.

Probably it was gonna be short lived anyway. Probably it was gonna go away when Eddie finally got out of here. Only made sense to soak it up while it lasted.

And it was one of those early days, where Eddie was soaking it up and before anything possible beyond the bubble of middle-space they were existing in inside Eddie’s hospital room was even hinted at. Steve had gone to check on Max while Eddie grappled a bit to look down at himself a little better under the handkerchief that the hospital deemed sufficient as clothing, and he braced for the worst because it felt like the worst and what he did remember at all from the scene of the inter-dimensional mauling definitely aligned with being ‘the worst’: but it was honestly mostly bandages and pain.

Eddie didn’t…on second thought he didn’t know if he was ready to see what was underneath just yet, so he was actually kinda grateful that his hubris about it all didn’t immediately have a chance to floor him, especially when he was alone because he’d thought it’d be easier to stomach if it was just him—but the prospect, the bullet dodged, lodged in his throat and proved him kinda instantly wrong for the sharp cut of bile rising in him, and the violent jump of his pulse right behind it.

His hand had gravitated to his chest, though, like he could keep his heart from cracking his ribs that way, and he noticed that…even the light pressure ached, so he looked down a little more carefully, didn’t think the little fuckers had concentrated their attacks on the center of his chest so he tucked his chin and tried to see what was causing the sting—maybe just like, general area tenderness after playing buffet table to fucking…flying hellspace rodents but—

No. No: even from this weird-ass uncomfortable angle, Eddie could see the outline, coukd make out the dark stain of a bruise.

In the shape of a hand.

And listen, Eddie wasn’t foolish. He knew that everyone busted ass to get him topside and to a hospital. And that probably involved…stuff he didn’t want to really dwell on too long in terms of the nitty-gritty of his own mortality. He was also very much aware that Steve had played a crucial role, even if the man himself didn’t stand up and declare it. The kids didn’t have any sense of a fucking filter, so.

Eddie knew.

But Eddie then started tracing the splay of fingers on his sternum, his heartbeat so fucking heavy under even just the brush of his nails as he followed the outline of the purpling over, and over, and over, imagined what it would take to make that kind of an impression on his skin because Eddie was fucking pale, yeah, he marked quick—but not that dark.

Not that deep.

“Shit.”

Eddie’d startled, snapped his attention to the doorway where Steve had reappeared, looking a little breathless as he took Eddie in, came quick to his side and leaned to look closer at the monitor next to him and oh: Eddie hadn’t realized that the beeping was so loud, so fast. Hadn’t realized his heartbeat had ratcheted up quite so high.

Not that he was surprised.

“Shit, are you okay,” Steve barely breathed, eyes so goddamn big about it as his hands had kinda hovered, as he’d tried to figure out what to do, how to help, because that was what he was always doing; that’s who he was to his core, and Eddie…

“Oh god, let me call the nu—”

“Don’t.”

Eddie’d half-moaned it, god: scratchy but desperate as he reached for Steve’s hand and he…

He suspected he knew exactly how big that hand was; what shape it’d make to a fucking T. But he needed to see

For sure.

“What are you,” Steve’s brow had furrowed in that way Eddie was becoming increasingly aware he wanted to kiss smooth, and he started to ask it as Eddie grabbed to uncurl his grip from the bar at the side of the bed but Steve gave up fighting quick, focused on stopping Eddie from moving at all instead, from stretching the way he was against the precarious threads holding him together as he reached for the neck of his gown again, still loose enough from where he’d pulled the back up, left his ass out against the sheets to bare his breastbone, the mess of the tattoos on his chest more grisly after everything than any horrors he’d gotten inked before but—

This was a different kind of horrifying thing. Not least—maybe most—because it was entirely possible that it was also the most beautiful, sacred thing to ever touch Eddie’s skin. To ever beat through Eddie’s fucking veins.

“You,” Eddie let go of the last breath he could wrestle out before his lungs seized up too tight, because then he was watching it happen, watching Steve’s broad palm as it hovered over the imprint, shivering when Steve’s warmth made contact: eclipsing the bruise near-perfect, just like Eddie knew deep down it fucking would.

His heart took the hint and started shivering under Steve’s hand immediately, like it had something to prove.

“Ed,” Steve’s voice was wispy, choked a little; eyes too bright and Eddie feels like there must be so many kinds of dying, because he’d felt one keenly under that angry red lightning; this was a wholly other thing.

But felt just as keenly life-or-death.

“You,” Eddie whispered, the words, the truth, the feeling of it all too fragile, too precious to disturb, and he wondered if his heart knew Steve had pushed the bruises down around it to save it, if that’s why it was so unbridled and unabashed in hammering against that touch, that touch—

“I think I heard you.”

And Steve? Big eyes framed with those feather lashes, stretched wide and all made of shine and earnest fucking feeling?

“You didn’t…want to lose me?” Eddie’s voice had been so small, so so small because he did think he’d heard that, and the wisps of recollection, of a frantic but resolute voice demanding of him: what he was able to collect and try to tie into a whole matched up when he paired it all with Steve in his head, but what if he was wrong?

What if it was all just fever dreams and wishful thinking on his deathbed, what if Steve had no investment in him beyond keeping the Party safe in its entirety, no exceptions; what if Eddie was fucking wrong and showed too much of his hand with this, with Steve’s palm pressed to his thrashing heart and—

Then Steve was brining his free hand to Eddie’s cheek, fucking…cradling it like it fucking meant something, like he could matter and—

“I couldn’t lose you.”

Oh.

“You,” and so many possible ways to end that thought had swam through Eddie’s head—you barely know me, you can’t possibly care if I live or die, I cannot matter one fucking bit in your universe, so why would it matter but Steve’s hand was warm under his, and Steve didn’t pull away, only leaned in, only stayed close enough that Eddie could feel his breath on his skin and Steve could chart the way Eddie’s heart took to pummelling his already-taxed ribs but it didn’t matter, it couldn’t matter because Steve held there, so careful of the pain but nothing short of steady, devoted, a soul-sworn guard of that heart under his hand like it did matter, like Eddie did…

Like Steve ever could—

“Stevie,” Eddie would probably have flushed if the situation had been anything but what it was. If his heart wasn’t racing into Steve’s touch at the chest and just under the jaw where Steve’s thumb pressed almost proprietary, almost like a shield but also like a welcome, like the idea of Eddie’s heart beating into him wasn’t a dealbreaker, and fuck, fuck—

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Steve breathed out against him, prickling dangerous across his skin and Eddie’s heart leapt a little, fuck; more than a little and Steve felt it, front-row-center, couldn’t not feel it but he just leaned closer still, and Eddie was front-row himself to the catch in Steve’s inhale, undeniable and unapologetic as he murmured low, turning into Eddie’s cheek a little and Eddie maybe resented how it forced him to pull away,until his lips brushed the tip of Eddie’s jawbone and drew a whole ass shudder down his goddamn spine.

“Just know,” Steve gasped there, fucking…panted and hell if it didn’t catch in Eddie’s blood like pure bliss; “just know why.”

And fuck, but Eddie could only press in to the warmth of Steve’s lips where they moved for the words alone, let alone what words; what Eddie thought maybe they meant—

“Me too,” Eddie rasped a little, because fuck him, man; this was something…something else, swelling up in his chest so strong and Steve had to be able to feel it where he still held against him, palm to his galloping pulse at the source, feeling the life he coaxed back into the world.

“Does it have to make sense just yet?” Eddie asked, knew he sounded too hopeful, too desperate, more than he’d earned, than was safe but his heart kept knocking against that hand, so fucking insistent and who was he to deny it, to try and wrestle in into being less when he couldn’t even hide it, when it was evident to the man it was leaping at; for.

“I don’t think so,” Steve mouthed more than spoke where his lips dragged wet across the stubble on Eddie’s cheek.

“Then,” Eddie tipped his head, tried to catch Steve’s eyes, aimed to reason, to convince but the moment he moved, Steve dipped his chin just so to take Eddie’s lips, to kiss so hard, so complete with what felt like it couldn’t even be reasoned as less than all of him, because how could less than all feel like this—

Fucking impossible.

And Eddie couldn’t shy away—as Steve kissed him breathless, left him gasping; Eddie couldn’t shy away from the sense that he was being killed and revived all over again, endless and unbreaking, and it was perfection.

Jesus fuck.

And the kicker was that…weeks passed. A whole month, close to another. And if anything changed it was all for the better, for the more and Eddie wasn’t entirely sure what to do with it, if he was entirely honest. He…the bruise healed, y’know? That brand above his heart but—

He didn’t need it anymore. That was the thing. He didn’t need to see.

He was very fucking aware. Every minute of every day. He was…so aware. It could kill him better than those bats, it was so big and so much, and so quick, but with all that, probably because of all that: Eddie’d never felt anything even remotely like what it meant to shake off sleep and have Steve Harrington kiss you to wakefulness, to hold you for the nightmares as much as the news of small victories on the road to recovery: never wavering.

Never leaving.

When Eddie got the go-ahead to continue his rehab outpatient-style, his original conviction that all of this ended at the latest upon discharge was immediately challenged, because Steve had become so much more than he’d started as, but Eddie still worried. Made himself sick over it.

Felt like an indefensible monster as Steve rubbed his back, brought him soup, tended him like Eddie didn’t cause his own suffering, and all for the terror of losing the very man who was there, without question.

Then he signed himself out, and Steve drove him home.

Save that Eddie recognized where they were headed and…he only knew one person in Loch Nora.

“Your uncle’s still in the motel by the plant,” Steve had explained what Eddie already knew but hadn’t put together when Eddie raised an eyebrow in askance, wholly unsure how to process any of this, any of this; unsure how to hope in the face of what he was seeing, held against what he was wishing.

“Government’s being fucking assholes about setting you up with someplace appropriate,” and something in Steve’s tone had made plain that he was not just very clear on what constituted ‘appropriate’, he was probably actively involved somehow in holding the people in question rightly accountable for appropriate, and nothing less.

And Eddie…he did say he didn’t need a mark you could see on his heart, didn’t he.

“You need the room while you get better,” Steve murmured as he killed the engine, and lifted Eddie’s hand to his lips, pressed his mouth on the knuckles, nuzzling a little, eyes closed and Eddie…Eddie didn’t know what to do.

The only saving grace was that he didn’t have a monitor to rat his ass out when his heart started trying to escape orbit—fuck just his ribs, how pedestrian—this time.

They sat in a living room that looked like it was once absolutely pristine and still was, mostly, but up close Eddie could see little snags on the sofa, could feel the texture of the fabric different under his fingers for scrubbing out a stain. He suspected four infamously unmannered teenagers were the culprits. The remaining stiffness of the cushions was good for the way his body was still working through being gnawed apart, but he was gone far enough to kind of immediately hope he’d see how they wore with love and use and maybe something more once they got there, once Eddie’s body cooperated again, because he…Steve brought him home.

And maybe they didn’t have to stop when Eddie left the hospital. Maybe he didn’t have to lose.

He’d only made it shortly past the best fucking grilled cheese he’d maybe ever tasted, and he didn’t think it was only because it was his first meal without an aftertaste of sterile in too fucking long—but he only lasted a little more than an hour before Steve’d helped him to a guest room on the first floor that’d obviously been reworked for him, from the way he could reach the bed from just inside the door, to the fucking posters that he knew for a fact Steve wouldn’t have had on hand, and Eddie’d giggled a little wetly at the Ozzy one, because he figured the man steadying him at his side would never be anything but intertwined with the Prince of Darkness in his mind, now—but Steve, who’d more than proven he was so far beyond any kind of king, won hands down. By a landslide.

And who could have seen that coming?

“Careful,” Steve chided him gently as he guided Eddie slowly down to the mattress and made to tuck him in, and the word was so warm, so warm but Eddie had to…

He had to reach. Again. He needed Steve, he…needed.

The handprint on top of his heart didn’t need to be a thing he could see, but he needed Steve to…know some level of what he was feeling, of how much was inside him already, and growing, the momentum building and he didn’t want to feed it, didn’t want to let it run if he wasn’t going to have someone to catch it, to run with him but he also didn’t think there was any chance to stop it, now, he didn’t think he could trim it back or tame it from consuming him and he wasn’t sure he’d even want to if he actually had the power because it was the best feeling he’d ever known, even if it was terrifying, even if it could hurt him more than anything he’d ever known and—

“I don’t want to be alone,” was what spilled from his lips with Steve’s hand above his heartbeat as it pumped so goddamn hard it couldn’t be denied, it couldn’t be misconstrued, and he didn’t want to sleep alone, didn’t want to lose what he’d rebuilt himself around all these weeks, he—

“Good,” and Steve leaned down, cradled Eddie’s face and tipped him up to kiss him full, hard, one hand still on his chest because that was the mark, the promise, the fight for all that this was and all it could be like a fucking vow and Eddie melted for it on sight, on contact.

“Because I’m not leaving,” and Steve brushed the tip of his nose back and forth against Eddie’s, his smile like honey in his tone as he pecked Eddie on the lips one more time before stretching his hand to follow him across the bed, to crawl to the other side and slide in next to Eddie, to carefully arrange him against Steve’s body, to wrap around him with so much care, to touch nothing too tender and everything safe to hold as Steve tucked his face against Eddie’s neck and kissed behind his ear as he breathed:

“Never gonna leave you all alone again.”

And Eddie believed him.

Eddie believed him.

And when, weeks later when Eddie was hurting less and moving more, perched in the corner of the couch that was starting to give a little under persistent weight, starting to feel like it was meant to be used and lend comfort; as Eddie was poking at campaign notes for the gremlins, pen caught between his teeth, he only paused when he felt the gravity of a familiar gaze settle on him—not immediately, because he liked just existing in it, feeling its heft, but after enough moments to satisfy him he looked up, met those eyes and felt them in his goddamn soul as he asked:

“What?”

And Steve had just kept on staring, the bare hint of a quirk at the corners of his lips spreading to the full sunrise of his smile.

“You fit, here,” and he’d said it so simply, so…much like a truth, a fact of the universe—Eddie Munson fits, belongs in this place, this space, this home, this life—and then the smile dimmed ever so slightly, cloud cover across the shine as Steve shifted a little, crossed his arms loose but still as a barrier over his chest: “if you want to, I mean—”

And Eddie sat up straighter, and he reached both his hands out to Steve because:

“I want to,” it was all he wanted, really; it wasso far beyond his wildest dreams but it was real, Eddie could see and touch it, taste it, feel it through his blood when it pumped, tracking through his whole body, filling up his heart overfull and magnificent and he as just…

“Sweetheart,” he took Steve’s hands and tugged him down to sit next to Eddie, settled him so close; “I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want that.”

He leaned back, wholly prone and never once letting go of Steve’s hands, never once doing anything but keeping them laced together and anchored, locked tight and Steve matched him, followed him as Eddie drew him to his healed-enough chest to settle right at the center, to hear Eddie’s heartbeat for the declaration it was, it already was in its entirety:

“You fit here.”

And he did. They both did. Their worlds had shifted, grew around the shapes they made together and after not-long-at-all, they fit so fucking well that it was bespoke to their cells, they’d never fit anyone else. It was quick and it was heady and it was fucking right.

For months

And then it all went to shit.

Because Steve decided what should have been expected, honestly—that Eddie wasn’t worth the hassle, that he wasn’t right for Steve, that Steve’s staggeringly-expansive capacity for love was wasted to hell on this low-life dipshit who couldn’t even graduate on his third try at high school, who maybe didn’t have a murder charge anymore in the legal system but would never wash it clean from the court of public opinion, who was…trouble. Always trouble.

Not fucking worth it.

It’s just…Eddie never thought Steve would stop wanting him. He maybe went in reticent at first, but Steve had loved so hard out the gate that as soon as he knew he was allowed, and welcome? Eddie didn’t hesitate to meet that love beat for beat.

He just never imagined his love would ever be unwelcome; that that's how his heart would break.

What breaks in the moment, though—the heartbreak is constant, and unfortunately proving to be kinda fucking unending, really—but what breaks now is…possibly the handle on the front door for the way someone’s banging and jiggling it back and forth like the first time it didn’t give against the lock was just a fluke.

He frowns, considers waiting out whoever’s enough of a dick to knock like that but apparently not so witch-hunty to throw a brick through the window—which: Eddie will take progress, he guesses—but when a concerning creak sounds from near the hinges, Eddie thinks of Wayne, and how his uncle doesn’t deserve a broken front door, so.

Heartbroken or not, Eddie has to drag himself to deal with…this.

Then he’s throwing the door open and…this is—

“We need to talk.”

This should have been expected. There’s really only one little asshole who’d assault his door with that much…determination.

“Henderson—” Eddie huffs, because he knows he needs to set a date for them all to get together, he left the campaign they were in kinda dangling on a thread when he didn’t hold the gatherings at St—

Well, when their regularly scheduled venue became too much for Eddie’s heart to handle.

Which: okay, fine, he gets it but like, he can’t care as much as he maybe should when he feels like this, and the kids need to fucking take a chill pill and if they can’t understand, then at least they can just shut the fuck up for at a couple more weeks while Eddie licks his wounds and sees if they decide to finally scab over enough that he doesn’t keep with busting them back open every time he breathes—

“About Steve.”

Eddie’s heart shudders just to hear the name. He’s avoided hearing it for weeks, now; it hurts too much.

He hears it enough in his own head, in his dreams, in his nightmares when he see the worst, in the cadence of his fucking pulse because his heart doesn’t know how not to be Steve’s, kinda feels like it’s not interested in learning, will never be anything other than what it is now, forever, and—

“We need to talk about what you did to Steve.”

Wait.

Wait, what he did to—

What?

❄️

>>> part ii

for @kultiras🖤

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divider credit here

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 66

Geralt is sure the bard he's started traveling with is a monster. I mean, an inhumanely beautiful young man with an inhumanely wonderful voice, and an inhumanely positive outlook on everything involved in Geralt's life? Bullshit. And he stayed. Even after the incident with the elves, where he had sad little puppy eyes - that were much too heartwrenching to not be magic - after his lute was smashed. Sure, he got a new and better lute, but surely he'd wanna leave by now.

Geralt starts testing. An "accidental" graze of silver against the bard's skin. Too much garlic on their food. A circle of salt. Fucking anything that reveals what he is! Jaskier, the human, is endeared endlessly with Geralt's shenanigans. How paranoid the poor witcher must be, if he keeps checking to make sure Jaskier hasn't been replaced with a monstrous lookalike in the night!

[antleredweirdo]

Ok so you know how there are a bunch of ‘summoning Ghost King’ AUs? And how in both the DC universe and the DP universe (from what I’m aware of) the wall separating the spirit realm and the living realm is weakened during Halloween?

What if a group (cultists, justice league, teen titans, anyone) summon the Ghost King (otherwise known as the Balancer Of Two Worlds) and Danny shows up in his Halloween costume. More specifically, he gets summoned while dressed up as the Grim Reaper.

And thus, because Danny is awkward as all hell sometimes and just says shit, the summoners end up thinking Danny is the actual Grim Reaper.

Chaos ensues

[robin-evry]

𝐃𝐑. 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐔𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐘!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 👩‍🔬🔭

Ever since you accepted towards the genius society, you and veritas relationship has been strained for the past few days. Thinking it would all go back by giving him space. Until he breaks up with you...

( English is not my first language )

Playing - Goddess by laufey

You and veritas were both professors in the same university and that's how you both meet. Originally he was unbearable wearing that plaster on his face. Saying that he can't stand seeing the face of idiots. And he was referring to you.

But slowly sparks started to bloom. You are the only one that can match his intellectual aspect, and soon you both started to fall in love slowly.

One day he finally takes his plaster off and reveals his face.

Reader : I thought you said, you can't stand looking at idiots

Dr ratio : I don't, but as long as it's you. I wouldn't mind looking at you.

Soon you guys started to go for coffee together, bathing together, admiring the galaxy, enjoying and basking the presents of each other not minding the world because there's only one in each other's worlds.

During your first anniversary of dating, you gave him a two set custom made identical rubber duck of him as well as you, so when takes a bath. Rubber duck him and you will always be seen swimming together

You've always noticed his disappointment of not being accepted towards the genius society and you were there to comfort him and reassure him that he will always be enough.

It's only you and him in the sky, nothing could separate you guys. Even tho he or you are unbearable towards the other but deep inside you feel that there's love for the other one.

Many people said you guys are a perfect match. Everything was perfect until....

One day, you receive an invitation to join the genius society as its number 85# member. Everyone claps and congratulates you and when you look at him, he has this look of betrayal. When you guys are back at home, he stays in his office for the entire night leaving in the once warm bed.

During your congratulation party hosted by the university, many famous people as well as genius society members come to welcome the newest 85# member herta, ruan mei, screwllum, Stephen Lloyd, etc. during your official meeting with herta, veritas was with you, she didn't even acknowledge his existence only looking at you not gazing at him once. She asks for your cooperation towards building a project called simulation universe.

Even some IPC higher-ups arrive to celebrate. You see aventurine chatting with veritas in the corner, until one particular stone heart member introduces himself, his name was sugilite and he kisses your palm as well sending a wink. Suddenly someone sends a cough and it catches both of you guys attention. It was veritas. He said he has some business with you.

Before you can pull your arm away, veritas gently drags you away from the stone heart, and leads you to the balcony after asking are you okay he said he has some work to do and leave the party early.

By far your relationship has become strained, he always faces the other way of the bed without looking at you, he rarely talks to you only asking how are you or how's your day, he hesitated to touch you even when you wrap your arms around his waist he was hesitating whenever or not to touch you.

Recently since you are planning on working with herta on the simulation universe. Your office was told to be removed from the intelligence guild to the herta space station, for maximum work with herta on the simulation universe. Thinking you will only be gone for a few months and will be back to be with veritas.

Until he meets you in an isolated garden in the intelligence guild, he said you guys should break up. The world seems to stop, every thought of doubt comes to your mind and the only thing that comes out of your mouth is oh okay. You were just shocked and he leaves. After a few minutes after he left you sat at a bench and cried your hearts out.

Soon news about you guys breaking up quickly, but instead of crying your hearts out, you bury yourself into your work. Making sure everything is perfect unlike your love. But sometimes memories or reminders of him come towards your mind and make you stop mid-way. But soon you will continue to work. Also recently some gifts started to appear as well large amounts of credit donation towards your project with only one indication from who it was from, the secret admirer gave you jewelry made by the stone "sugilite".

When you try to ask for herta or ruan mei advice, they unfortunately said they are not experts in the fields of romance, but screwllum has been a big help, he will try to find ways to comfort you. You joke to him saying that he has more heart than a human being.

During your audience with nous the aeon themselves, you were allowed to ask any question but there were hundreds of questions but you settled towards one "why do people change" unfortunately you were unable to get a clear answer from the aeon.

You guys haven't been in contact for over one year. Until you meet him again when he visits the space station to inspect the simulation universe for the IPC.

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

Damian isn’t happy about father’s rule not to hurt the gaggle of false kids he has acquired. How is he supposed to prove to him that he is the only one worthy of the title of heir now?

But fine. Most of them are stupid enough they’ll end up dead sooner or later. Damian just has to play the long game. Establish himself as the only constant.

But then father’s wayward son, Todd, comes home… and it’s so much worse than Damian expected.

He remembers this man. Remembers him from hushed whispers in the League, from mother’s creased eyebrow, and training halls drenched with blood.

And he’ll take one look at Damian and know. Know that he’s a threat to his position.

And the worst thing: Damian isn’t allowed to defend himself.

[mybuddieficrecs]

i forget that you’re not mine | M | 12k | @bexism

five times eddie forgets that he and buck aren't a couple (and the one time they actually are)

Eek! This one was so cute