#my most beloved my everything

[diebischesther]

idk abt u guys but i will 11/10 commission mh!milou once wilds comes out as a celebration

[ruporas]

dragon meat, you, and me

[martuzzio]

POV he's on his way to defend you from a spider

[sleepy-steve]

@steddieangstyaugust 04/08 // angst with a happy ending

wc: 2.3k // rating: G // cw: language // tags: post-s4, eddie lives, eddie in WITSEC, mutual pining, phone calls

divider credits @steddiecameraroll-graphics

“So, where are you now?”

Steve knew he wasn’t going to get a real answer to this question—given that Eddie wasn’t allowed to say—but it was basically tradition at this point to ask. 

Eddie chuckled through the receiver. “Hmm… it’s windy. And cold as balls. Will probably start snowing soon.”

Steve raised his brows. “Snow? This early?”

Dustin, from Steve’s kitchen island, mirrored his look of interested surprise, and immediately started looking over the map laid out on the countertop. It was dotted with little red and yellow stickers and various scribblings.

“Yep,” Eddie responded, popping the P. “Pretty shit going out for a smoke, but lots of trees around, so the view is decent at least.”

“Lots of trees,” Steve repeats, with a pointed glance at Dustin, who hurriedly starts marking different spots on the map. 

“How’s Henderson’s map going?” Eddie asked, knowing by the tone what they were doing.

“It’s… going?” Steve responded with a shrug. “He thinks he’s worked out the movement system.”

“I have worked out the movement system, thank you very much,” Dustin snarked, not looking up at Steve. “We can track their movement from the West Coast back up North, hence the snow.”

Eddie laughs again. “Kid’s too smart for his own good.”

“You’re telling me,” Steve grumbles, moving away from the kitchen, as far as the cord allowed him to. He drops his voice low. “How you holding up?”

“I dunno,” Eddie sighs. “Same shit, different place… Same shitty government officials with the same shitty requirements.”

Steve wants to say so much, to reassure and comfort him, but holds back. Keeps it in. “How’s Wayne doing?”

“He’s alright, doesn’t love the cold…” Steve can picture Eddie looking over at where Wayne is probably sitting nearby. “Hopefully they’ll move us somewhere warmer next.”

“D’you know when that’ll be?” A small pit of anxiety swirls in Steve’s gut. As it did any time they spoke of Eddie needing to move.

“Nah, last time was six months, but time before was only three. Hopefully this is just another quick one.” Steve can hear Eddie chewing on his lip, can picture him playing with his hair.

“Steve!” Dustin calls from behind the wall. “Ask Eddie what kind of trees are around him!”

Steve snorts. “Did you get that one?”

“Tell him I have no idea,” Eddie deadpans. 

Lowering the receiver, Steve calls over his shoulder. “He doesn’t know, buddy.”

“What kind of trees…” Eddie grumbles, only slightly mocking. “I guess I can’t blame him for trying.”

“It’s how he deals.” Steve keeps his voice low. “He misses you. I miss you.” His brain scolds him—too much—and he quickly adds, “We all do.”

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs, and Steve’s almost sure he hears him hit his head on the wall. “I miss you too. All of you.”

It was a thing that happened often, for how infrequently Eddie was able to call. A kind of vulnerability that Steve supposed came from the fact that they couldn’t see each other, and wouldn’t for a long time yet. They’d skirt around it, but it was there, pulled taut between them, ready to break with one wrong move.

“How much longer?” Steve asks, like he doesn’t already know, like he hasn’t been counting down the days since Eddie got taken away.

Eddie exhales heavily, the sound muffling through the receiver. “Bit under three years.” Steve can hear the sad smile in his voice.

“Right.” Steve leans back against the wall, head tilted back as longing shoots through his gut. They were almost at the halfway point. There was so much he wanted to say, but he just… couldn’t. Steve would wait.

Steve’s kicking snow off his boots at his front door when he hears the phone ring from inside. He bolts in, slipping on the floor slightly in his haste. 

“Hello?” he answers breathlessly.

“Hey.”

A wave of relief washes over him. “Eddie,” he breathes.

“You okay? Did I wake you up?” His tone immediately switches to one of concern.

“No, no, I just got back from the Henderson’s,” Steve says, running a hand through his hair, willing his heart to calm down now that he’s answered the call. “We wanted to call you, but… y’know.”

“Yeah…” Eddie sighs. “I wish you could.”

The silence settles, and they just listen to each other breathe for several long moments. Steve knows that Eddie is holding back, the same way he is. Saying things that are only close to what they mean. Their quiet filled with unanswered questions and things they wish they could say. Finally, Eddie breaks it.

“Are you by yourself?”

“Yeah, just me tonight,” Steve says, shrugging his jacket off. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Eddie doesn’t laugh at the joke. Steve didn’t really think it was that funny. Their constant need to skirt around the thing developing between them led to him saying some dumb stuff. He rolls his eyes at himself.

“I don’t think I could handle talking to anyone else tonight,” Eddie says, voice growing soft. “It’d be, I dunno, too much. With you, I can just… be, y’know?”

Steve is surprised—as he often is—at the honesty. He tries to make his next words sound casual, but he’s sure he fails miserably. “I’m glad I caught you then.”

“Yeah… me too.” Eddie doesn’t let the silence linger for too long this time. “So, any new Henderson theories to update me on?”

Steve snorts. “Of course.”

Letting him talk about his day at the Henderson’s, Eddie hums in the right moments, asks a few follow up questions, makes little jokes, but is otherwise quiet, seemingly content to just let Steve ramble. Happy to hear his voice. He lets Steve talk until he’s yawning too much to complete a full sentence.

“Sorry, I should let you go to sleep, it’s late.” Eddie’s tone is gentle, but like he’d rather be saying anything else.

“Nah, it’s cool, man,” Steve argues sleepily. “Don’t wanna waste your call.”

“It’s never wasted with you.”

“Eddie…” Steve doesn’t know what to say. Or rather, he knows exactly what he wants to say, but doesn’t know if he should. If he even could. He yawns again.

“Come on, bed time,” Eddie’s voice teases.

Steve feels the pull of his eyelids, begging for sleep. “Yeah, alright… Talk to you soon?” He tries to ask it casually, but again, can’t seem to manage it. Something like pleading coming through in his words.

“As soon as I can,” Eddie promises, voice tight with sincerity. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Eddie.” Steve pauses. “Merry Christmas.”

He can hear the sad smile in Eddie’s voice. “Merry Christmas, Steve.”

“How much longer now?” Steve asks, already knowing the answer.

“Two and a bit years,” Eddie sighs. “Past halfway, at least.”

Even Steve can tell he’s trying to convince himself it’s a good thing, but neither of them feel any happiness about it.

It’s been almost six months since Steve heard from Eddie, much longer than any gap between calls before. Anxiety gnaws away at him, a constant presence whispering in the back of his mind and sitting like a stone in his stomach. The kids—barely even kids now, having graduated high school—were starting to show their worry. He begged and pleaded with invisible entities that they’d hear something soon.

The phone finally rings.

“Hello?” Steve answers with urgency, as he did every time it rang these days.

“Steve?” the voice croaks.

“Eddie!” Bringing a hand to his face, Steve’s eyes welled with tears. “Eddie, are you okay? What happened?”

“I’m fine, it’s okay,” Eddie reassures him, sounding anything but. “They just had us somewhere remote. We didn't have a phone.”

“What the fuck? Can they do that?” Quiet rage slips through Steve’s chest.

“Evidently, they can do whatever they want,” Eddie seethes. “Didn’t stop me from bringing hell at every check up until they moved us again.”

Steve winces at the pain in Eddie’s voice. “I’m so sorry, Eddie. It’s fucking awful, what they’re doing to you.”

“It’s bullshit!” Eddie snaps. “I’m so fucking sick of it. I can’t believe this was their solution. Like, I’m the one demonised and hunted down in Hawkins and somehow I’m the one that ends up punished for it! It’s not even a solution. All it’s doing is fucking me around.” He takes a breath. “It’s hurting me. It’s hurting us.”

To anyone else, it would sound like Eddie meant him-and-Wayne-us, or even him-and-the-entire-party-us. But Steve knew. Heard it in the way he almost whispered it. Steve wanted to match his anger, throw something, hit something. Instead, he willed it down.

“It fucking sucks,” Steve says, keeping his tone soft. “But we’re so close to the end now. It’ll be over soon.”

“I just…” Eddie’s voice lowers. Steve can picture the way the air deflates out of him. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I wish… you could’ve come with me.”

“Me too.” Steve lets the back of his head hit the wall, eyes squeezed shut. “I miss you. So much.”

“I miss you, too.” Eddie says it like it’s painful. Like it gets caught in his throat halfway up. Like he was saying something else entirely.

“I’m sorry… I don’t know why I called when I don’t really have anything to say.” It’d been close to silent for more than five minutes before Eddie says it, voice soft. Almost timid.

The corner of Steve’s mouth lifts in a half-smile. “It’s okay. I’m just glad to hear your voice at all. To know you’re alive.”

The silence settles between them again. Comfortable, somehow. Eddie’s voice is smaller when he speaks again. “Only six months left.”

“Only six months,” Steve repeats, slightly more optimistic.

“We can… we can do it, right?” Eddie sounds so unsure. Steve can picture him playing with his hair. “It’ll be okay? When you visit?”

Steve knows what he means. He’s felt the same way for a long time. Scared that once they’re reunited, whatever this thing was—this delicate bubble of vulnerability—between them would burst. Each phone call found it wound tighter and tighter, pulled like a rubber band that would eventually reach its limit and snap, hurting both of them in the process. 

“It’ll be more than okay,” Steve says, sounding more sure than he feels. He wants more than anything to be able to hold him. To reach through the phone and wrap his arms tightly around him, feel the rise and fall of his breath and listen to his heartbeat.

“Promise?” Eddie asks, and Steve can picture him chewing on his nails.

“Promise.”

“One month left,” Steve whispers in the dead of night. No one else is there, but something about the late hour makes him quiet. Or maybe it’s what he’s saying. Like a wish that needs to be kept secret, or it won’t come true.

“One month,” Eddie repeats, just as soft. “You’ll be here?”

“Wherever you are, I’ll be there,” Steve assures him.

He’s sure Eddie can feel it too. The thing between them growing more palpable, more solid, more real. The less time they have left, the stronger it becomes. It terrifies both of them.

The car stops in an urban area of Chicago. Steve glances around as he gets out of the backseat, giving a quick thanks to the government official who drove him. His heart races. This is it. Double checking the address on the small piece of paper, he looks up to the block of apartment buildings, scanning the numbers.

Steve doesn’t need to look for long. At the next building, standing in the entryway, with his curly hair pulled into a messy bun, shadow of facial hair around his jaw, face more angular than Steve remembers, is—

“Eddie…” The name comes out in a soft breath, like a prayer. His eyes well up and he quickly blinks, as though the man might disappear if Steve couldn’t see him.

Whatever was holding Eddie to the stoop of his building breaks. He jumps down, skipping the stairs completely and landing with a thud of his boots. He runs, as quick as his legs allow him, until he crashes into Steve, almost knocking them both to the ground. With his arms around Steve’s neck, Eddie whispers his name over and over. Steve pulls him tight, arms wrapped around his waist. Steve can feel Eddie’s heartbeat matching his—racing, pounding, about to jump out of his chest. They hold each other like they’ll never let go, afraid that all of it could be taken away again.

Finally, Eddie pulls back, one hand softly entangled in Steve’s hair, and looks at him, huge eyes filled with tears. “You look different,” Eddie says with a wet laugh.

Steve can’t help but smile. “In a good way?”

Eddie nods with enthusiasm, grinning despite the tears. “In a really good way.”

Their eyes are locked on each other, and Steve can’t hold back anymore. He leans in, cautiously at first, before Eddie gives him a tiny nod, leaning in to meet him halfway. Their lips finally meet, crashing together, and Steve gasps at the feeling. It’s messy and desperate and shy. It’s everything they wished they could say, given to each other in their kiss. Steve brings his hands up to hold Eddie’s face, feeling the tears spill over and wiping them away with his thumbs.

They pull back, laughing and crying. Steve kisses him again and again and again, on his lips, his cheeks, his forehead, before finally just looking, taking in every detail of Eddie’s face. The deep brown of his eyes, the thick lashes, the faint dusting of freckles across his nose. “I’m never letting you go. Never again.”

Eddie laughs again. It sounds like a sob. “Never again. You promise?”

“I promise,” Steve says reverently. “I love you, Eddie.”

Eddie’s smile grows wider, a fresh lot of tears spilling from his eyes. “I love you, too.”

[ramblerogue]

See you next year.

[humbuns]

For pride requests, like, Shu has something going on. Something dysphoria, maybe ace too but maybe he moves past repulsion once he figures out the gender thing, I don't know, what's your read?

oh i 100% agree, i have always seen shu being a little uncomfortable with their existence because it reminds them that they are a little too human (in his heart and in his mind) so it will probably take them a while to realize anything in some form without layers and layers of deflections but they're getting there (this is the sole reason why i like to see shu as a gem slowly being polished, they were always brilliant but it takes time to see it and accept it yourself)

[mobius-m-mobius]

-Julio Cortázar, from "Bolero" (trans. John Joseph Lyons)

Loki S2 Anniversary x Episode 2 - “Breaking Brad”

[koushuwu]

TOGAME JO ↳ for @feitanporter happy birthday my love <3

[halflifebutawesome]

every time i see your Alyx and Barney it lights up my day im not joking, they're so cool

OHH... thank u.... I'm glad u think so they're my faves... sniffles🥹

[stellar-jay]

The only one condition, I've got the premonition, that Christmas is a vision!

HAPPY WINTERFEST!

[vaguely-concerned]

every so often, varric will write a black fox story. not anything fancy or for publication or anything, just for fun and because he knows hawke has a soft spot for them. ("an intrepid hero getting into and out of all kinds of trouble and the merry band of misfits following inseparably in his wake? can't imagine why".) some of them are experimental, some of them are straightforward retellings; they're generally pretty short and quick to do, so he allows himself to play around with form and genre and language more than he does in his professional work. stretching over the span of almost twenty years as they do, they contain some of his favourite pieces of his own writing, and some of the most '...was I huffing lyrium fumes or drunk or both for this one, hawke? what the actual hell is this' pieces. hawke keeps every single one of them. varric speculates that this is either because they're just that sentimental, or possibly that it's for future blackmailing purposes. he usually has one ready for their birthday. they have so much blackmail material on him anyway by this point, he figures, what's one more piece of ammunition going to do one way or the other.

varric finishes one of these black fox tales a couple of nights before he brings rook with him to minrathous — the last one. it's about the very last black fox story, the one where the black fox and his friends all disappear together into the depths of arlathan forest, where those in the know say you can find them to this very day, if you know where to look, or if you ever find yourself in trouble and in need of a helping hand. they'll turn up to aid a traveller in need, and disappear back between the shaded trees again once the day is saved, squabbling all the way, seeking treasures and unlikely quests yet unfound and unimagined.

they say on some days, you can hear them as laughter and friendly bickering on the wind from a couple of clearings over. it's not the end, it's just other adventures, some other place. that's the thing about stories. they're funny that way.

(once he wrote a book for his mother on her deathbed and read it to her through the comfortless and drawn-out hours of the troubled nights, and he burned the book the day she died and never spoke of it again.)

after he finishes the manuscript, he sits with it for a long time in the quiet and the candlelight before he wraps it up properly and sends it off back home to kirkwall. he attaches a note -- a story, to the best of all my stories, the one I'd tell forever if I could. take care of each other while I'm gone. first one to arrive saves seats at the bar, right? happy birthday, and send all my lack of love to the merchant's guild, as always. —Varric

he sends that to hawke. just in case. and then he gets up and he goes to find rook — it's time to get going.

[sammygender]

thoughts on how the sam & dean part of the fight before sam left for stanford went !

i am addicted to thinking about precanon so thank you for this <33

i think people r generally way too optimistic about how that initial seperation between them went. dean is awful to sam about stanford even years after he left and years after he came back!! hes still very visibly angry about it in s5 which is NINE YEARS after he left in the first place and refuses to even tolerate the idea it was a good moment for sam. i cannot comprehend how people think 22 year old dean had the emotional maturity to even let sam go without a fight, nevermind be supportive about it.

like. theres this amazinggg art on here of sam hitchhiking to stanford and all the comments are like 'erm that black eye would be from JOHN actually!' (side note but it is so funny to me how spn fans decide john hit them based on implication (which i agree w... to an extent...) but dean hitting sam onscreen multiple times somehow translates to 'DEAN WOULD NEVER DO THAT'. erm. okay.) 'nooo dean would've given sam a lift!'

and like. what show are you watching. if dean would've given sam a lift he would've done it to the bus station in moody silence and then locked the doors of the impala so sam couldn't get out to catch his bus to stanford and they would've started physically fighting for the car keys and dean eventually wouldve let sam get them and sam wouldve left. or something. but it would not be some sweet brotherly moment bc that directly contradicts canon <3

i do think the worst of the fight is between sam & john - that's always what's implied in canon - and in my head dean's just standing there stonefaced maybe refusing to even talk to sam until theyre left alone somehow and he breaks. but i also think dean hits sam at some point, will always have the image in my head of sam showing up to stanford w a bloody nose and fending off questions. (internally hes like no my dad didnt do this it was my brother so its fine. <3.) theres a scene like this in one of my fics so im just drawing from that. but. like....

idk how dean/john finds out. if dean found out before john, i think dean probably wouldve run to him about it in an attempt to get sam Not To Go as much as it would be nice if he didnt, so i reckon they have to find out at about the same time. i think sam is unsure what to expect from dean, who of course (as far as we see both in flashbacks and in canon) alternates between genuine care and support and angry, desperate possessiveness. he probably hopes for the best and expects the worst and gets the worst.

there r definitely lots of different ways it could go....maybe sam tells dean and dean tells john. maybe sam tells john without telling dean at all and thats how dean finds out which totally wrecks him. maybe sam tells them both at the same time. maybe sam never tells them and they find the acceptance letter. this is why stanford fight is sooo fascinating. i feel like i could write five different versions of it and all would be possible/interesting.

but whichever way, i just dont see dean as contradicting john. he generally Doesnt Ever precanon, this is established, he admits it himself, thats why its such a huge moment when he defends sam at the end of s1.....sam going on about dean 'protecting him' is 1. more subtle and probably to do with dean being the one to shoulder most of johns emotional baggage than the heller misinterpretation of 'john hit dean but not sam and thats what this means!!!' (tho i am sure dean did genuinely Protect sam sometimes including from physical violence. of course he did. this isnt to discredit that..i just emphasise the Sometimes.). and 2. partially just classic Sam Rewriting History (u always protected me from dad, from lucifer....girl he did those things very little certainly not always. know your worth sam winchester).

so if dean gives sam a very angry lift (to a nearby bus station...there is absolutely zero fucking way hes driving him to stanford and tbh i already find this quite unlikely but possibilities r interesting) its on john's say-so or at least not disapproval. which like. sure maybe. john certainly is concerned about sam's safety even after he kicks him out, checking up on him at stanford etc, id believe that hed want to ensure sam Gets there even if the fight ended up so bad he told sam he couldnt come back. tho hes stubborn and i dont think hed say it. so maybe itd be a case of dean kind of picking up that that's what john wants and complying even though right now half of him wants to never see sam again and the other half wants to tie him to the radiator so he can never leave. sorry i am literally brainstorming fic ideas in this ask answer now.

anyway....SORRY id say long ass answer as always but this is actually INSANELY long......sorry guys im about to embark upon getting tested for adhd and maybe then my rambles will be, while not shorter in length, more cohesive? tldr fandom is wrong dean is an absolute ASS during stanford fight. obviously sam leaving devastates him and how does dean cope with devastation or perceived abandonment do we think?? hm?? he is just as angry as john for the same and different reasons. and thats really so much more interesting than him being Secretly Supportive. <3

[goosewizard]

it is the second time ranboo is hiding an eye from tubbo, and he forgot how terrible he is at it. they managed to keep it a secret for this long, though, so he can't stop now. they know his preferred eye size, managed to find out his preferred ring size without causing too much suspicion (they think), and today is the day. tubbo should be home any minute now.

oh, they're gonna throw up.

everything is going to be perfect, it has to be. he's rehearsed what he's going to say, how they're going to kneel, even practiced putting the ring on with michael (who is being the best little secret-keeper right now), so it's going to be fine. it's tubbo, how could it not be?

the door unlocks and ranboo promptly drops the box he'd been fiddling with.

he dives after it (quite heroically, one might say), forgetting that he is very tall and the floor is very far away. they land pretty hard on their shoulder but manage to keep the box from view of the door, which opens just in time for ranboo to gain some additional bodily harm as sweet michael all but tramples them to greet the man at the door.

scratch that. the bastard at the door.

because tubbo is doubled over cackling, wheezing something about family guy while he watches ranboo struggle to their feet. they should really reconsider marrying this guy. not even a ‘hello’, a ‘how are you’, an ‘are you ok’, this could be serious, tubbo could seriously be planning their demise. marriage is a lives-long commitment, ranboo can't just pick some guy who's gonna axe them for the insurance money. the guy in question scoops michael up and spins him around while the toddler shrieks in delight.

yeah, okay, plan’s still on.

speaking of, michael is whispering in tubbos ear prime dammit. ranboo suavely (read: panicking) plucks their kid out of tubbo's hands with a haha kids these days amirite and shoos michael off to play. they turn around and tubbo's smirking. aw man. he strolls up to them, grinning ear to ear saying darling, dearest, what is this plan that michael tells me about in that tone where he knows exactly what plan they have. ranboo groans as tubbo dances around them, going awww ranboo you like me so much you want to co-parent with me forever awww with that same shit-eating grin because he knows he's right. the situation would be more frustrating if ranboo wasn't head-over-heels for the man (literally, as of about a minute ago). they suppose he never explicitly said that the secret was to be kept from tubbo. hrm.

welp, cat's out of the bag and tubbo's not gonna get any less insufferable about it, so he may as well just do it. ranboo looks tubbo in his eyes (he's wearing one of the first ones they made for him) and steadily gets on one knee. tubbo's being very composed, but his little goat tail's going a mile a minute. it offers ranboo a sense of relief. its tubbo, and with any luck, it'll always be tubbo.

they begins their speech, only stumbling over their words a few times and keeping easy eye contact with tubbo for the duration. when they get to the part with the ring and almost drop the dang box again, tubbo laughs harder than is really necessary, giddy about the whole thing. they're both smiling hard when ranboo asks tubbo underscore, will you marry me? for real this time and opens the box.

not to brag, but they really knocked it out of the park. inside the box is a simple and sturdy copper ring with a honeycomb pattern etched in. there is also an eye, made of quartz and diamond with a netherite pupil shaped like a heart.

tubbo honest-to-prime squeals and drags ranboo in for one of those kisses where it’s all teeth because they can’t stop smiling. he says yes, of course. the ring is on in an instant and tubbo dashes to the nearest mirror to put the new eye in, asking a million questions about how much this cost and how’d they sculpted it like that and if he can have one of lapis or amethyst next. michael trots over to the commotion and is promptly scooped up by tubbo who tells him michael youre not going to be part of a broken home anymore. ranboo points out that the home in question was never broken in the first place, which his fiancee (!) ignores.

as he watches his husband-to-be show off his ring and eye to their son, ranboo thanks whoever is up there that this is who he gets to spend his days with. to have and to hold, to bicker over flowers and colors, in sickness and in health, in war and in peace, theyll be together, ranboo and tubbo, against the world.

part 1 | part 2

[sysig]

Can I request a pokemon drawing? Was thinking mewtwo but idk whoever whatever!

Day 11 - Quiet pls

[yea-baiyi]

i keep thinking about the odyssey i am THINKING about wei wuxian as odysseus. you were dead. its been years since you’ve seen your family. the child you left behind is almost a man. you wear a face they don’t recognise, you sneak in through the back door. the dog gives your identity away. the world knows it’s you when you draw your weapon. the person you love recognises you by the original symbol of your love—a secret that no one else in the world knows about, still, because they kept it safe for all these years. you get the chance to go back and despite everything, you found home waiting for you; he kept your place and raised your son and he was still there waiting for you when you got back. tell me o muse, about a complicated man i am extremely not okay

[slit-skirts]

My favourite elderly bunny! 🐰💖

[x, x]