#thank you everyone ;-;

[xo-arcie]

I have hit 50+ followers (thank you 💜) and I am tickled pink.

I would like to celebrate, so please what you would prefer:

[runraerun]

Steddie Amnesia Ficlet: 2/3

-> Part 1 | Part 3 | AO3

cw: more head trauma/concussed!Steve discussions.

Steve hears Eddie call after him, but he doesn’t stop—he can’t face it. Not right now, anyway. Not when his eyes are stinging and his heart is pounding in his ears, each pulse more painful than the last. His legs take him to the building he’s supposed to go into, fueled purely by muscle memory. Not brain memory, of course, because nothing up there works properly anymore, apparently.

The Brain Injury Recovery Center.

It’s where Eddie expects him to go. He’ll catch Steve if he goes in, or he’ll wait for Steve by the doors until he comes back out—both options involve facing Eddie after Steve had made a total idiot of himself. Both feel utterly mortifying.

So he ducks into the alleyway beside the familiar brick building instead, just to catch his breath. It takes Steve longer than the average bear to sort out his feelings now, after all. Jesus, who’s he kidding? Everything seems to take him longer.

Steve feels hot tears streak down his cheeks before he angrily scrubs a sleeve over them. Of course Eddie isn’t his boyfriend. Eddie’s funny and cool and he’s in a band and he lights up every damn room he walks into—and Steve… well, maybe Steve was something a few years ago when he was in high school, and maybe he was even something before his accident, but now…

There’s a sharp clapping noise that sounds like thunder. A door slamming, Steve’s brain sluggishly supplies. It’s followed by shouting.

“Steve? Steve!” Eddie calls from somewhere on the street.

Steve’s heart feels like it’s going to fall out of his ass. His face is probably still blotchy and wet, his breathing hasn’t evened out yet and his eyes are still leaking like a goddamn faucet. He’s pathetic.

Can’t let Eddie see him like this…

He ducks behind a metal garbage bin, careful not to let anything but the bottom of his sneakers touch the sticky looking surfaces around him. It stinks, like rot.

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice echoes off of the alleyway walls. Steve claps a hand around his mouth to muffle out any of the pathetic sounds that seem determined to escape from him. So much of his body just does whatever the hell it feels like now. Out of Steve’s control, like everything else.

For a few, tense seconds, there’s silence. Eddie’s listening for him, maybe. Steve shuts his eyes and waits him out.

It feels like an eternity before he hears Eddie’s hurried, retreating footsteps, continuing his shouting for Steve. He sounds almost as panicked as Steve feels. Almost.

Steve gives a noisy, wet sniff and does one final scrub of his face before getting to his feet. He starts walking.

As he goes deeper into the alleyway, he thinks back on all the things he’s been wrong about. The fact that Eddie had some of his band t-shirts mixed in with Steve’s clothes… well, that was because they were both guys who wore about the same size, and Eddie left his shit everywhere. It’s no wonder some of his stuff got mixed into their laundry. And the times Eddie’s driven him places? That’s just… what friends do, Steve supposes. And all those times Eddie made Steve laugh? Made him feel like the center of the universe? Well, that’s just… Eddie. He must make everyone feel that way. It’s like his super power. But it isn’t romantic… It doesn’t mean anything more than Eddie being a magnetic person.

Steve is just so stupid. Painfully so.

He blinks as the sun hits him. He must’ve reached the other side of the alleyway.

Steve cups a hand over his eyes and grimaces. His migraine wasn’t backing down. He sighs. Time to head back.

Steve turns back into the alleyway he’d emerged from, only he’s about halfway through when he realizes the color of the buildings on either side of him are wrong. They’re brown on one side, painted green on the other. That isn’t right…

His heart jackrabbits in his chest, but he keeps walking forward. Maybe he’ll recognize the street once he’s back on the other side.

But when he gets there, it’s as unfamiliar to him as the alleyway. Steve turns, looking up and down the road to see if he could spot Eddie, or his van, or the Center. But there’s nothing.

And when someone shoulder checks him, Steve supposes he was sort of asking for it, standing in the middle of the sidewalk like that. He apologizes, but it’s too late. The person’s already out of range to hear him.

It’s as if everyone else is on fast forward while Steve’s stuck on pause. The world keeps moving along while all he seems to be able to do is watch it go by.

Why would he ever think someone as dynamic and spirited as Eddie would hitch his horse onto Steve’s busted up, barely mobile cart?

Stupid, stupid, stupid…

He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes and wills himself not to start blubbering again like a goddamn baby. His life is already one big, painful lesson in humility as it is, he doesn’t need to wallow in it.

Steve keeps walking. Figures he’ll spot something, or someone familiar to him eventually. The pounding in his head’s eased off to a dull ache, at least. Maybe there was something to this exercise and fresh air thing the doctors were always going on about, after all…

The thing is though, Steve doesn’t spot anything familiar. Not even vaguely so, and it’s not until the streetlights turn on that he realizes he’d spent the majority of the day wandering around the streets like some lost dog that managed to slip his leash.

It’s cold too, and all he’s got on is jeans and a polo. It’s October, isn’t it? No wonder he’s got goosebumps all up and down his arms.

Then, he finally spots something familiar; a phone booth. Steve breathes a sigh of relief. He’d just call his parents. They’d come pick him up.

He gets the booth and lifts the receiver before he blanks. A quarter. He’d need that. Duh, Harrington. So he hangs up the phone and pats his pockets until he finds a wallet, but all that’s inside of it are a couple of crisp bills. He’d need to break one.

Steve turns, scans the street until he spots a well lit, invitingly warm looking diner. The joint looks so damn cozy that he forgets to make sure the street is clear before he steps out into the middle of it.

Tires screech, harmonizing with the horn that’s blasting at him—Steve flinches, reaching up to cover his head and braces for impact.

To his great relief, the hit never comes. Which, thank fuck. He can’t afford anymore accidents. As it is Robin’s threatened to make him wear a helmet full-time.

Steve doesn’t listen to whatever the person yells at him, he just hurries to get the hell out of his way of the other moving vehicles.

“Smooth, Harrington. Real smooth.” He mutters to himself as he catches his breath.

He pushes the door to the diner open with shaking hands, but it’s blissfully peaceful inside, and he can actually feel his insides unclench as he stands inside of it.

“Sit anywhere, hun, I’ll be right with you.” A woman’s voice tells him. Steve nods and slips into the nearest booth overlooking the street. Watches the cars go by. There’s even a couple of cop cars, sirens blaring, lights flashing. Steve wonders briefly what sort of emergency they’re rushing off to when the waitress comes to his table.

“What can I get you, handsome?” She asks, cheery and warm like the rest of the diner.

“Uh…” Steve frowns, taking a few seconds to process the question, “nothing. I’m just waiting for my parents to come pick me up.”

The waitress taps the side of the notepad. “Well you gotta order something, hun, or you can’t stay here.”

Steve wants to stay here. It’s warm and smells fucking amazing, like “pancakes?”

She waitress smirks. “Yeah, we got those. You want a stack?”

“Yeah, please.” Steve smiles back, laughing along with the waitress like he’s in whatever joke that’s currently so amusing to her. “I’m starving.”

“You want some coffee too, to help you sober up, maybe?”

“Oh, I’m not drunk.” He huffs out a little self deprecating laugh, “I wish. No, I—uh, my meds, they’re the kind that you can’t mix with alcohol. Coffee too. Bummer, right? Yeah… But, uh, it is what it is, I guess—so…”

He can feel it. The way his mind so often wanders. He’s lost his train. His track. He frowns, eyes drifting towards the street again, watching the headlights zip by.

“…so just the pancakes then?” The waitress asks, jolting his train back onto its rails. His attention snaps back onto her.

“Yeah, pancakes. Sure.” Steve flashes her what he hopes is a charming smile.

She returns his smile and leaves him be, and he lets himself relax. Props his head up on a fist and watches life go on for everyone else but him.

He gets his pancakes, and some juice too that he doesn’t remember ordering, but hey, that’s nothing new. And damn, the pancakes taste even better than they smell. He needs to remember the name of this place so he can come back with everyone. What did the doctors say? Repeat something in your head over and over until it sticks. Repetition. Repetition, repetition, repetition…

It’s around the time his fork hits an empty plate that one of the police cars stops in front of the diner window, lights on, but the sirens are off now.

Hopper steps out.

Huh. That’s weird. Steve wonders what sort of emergency he’s here for.

When Hopper enters through the glass doors, the bell hung over the entry way rings out pleasantly. An angel getting their wings.

His eyes land on Steve and the older man sighs, shoulders falling. Relief, Steve recognizes. Hopper pulls the radio from his belt and says something into it before stomping over.

Then it clicks.

Oh. Steve’s the emergency.

He feels his face heat up. The handful of other patrons scattered across the diner are all looking at him.

“There you are.” Hopper sighs, gruff and exasperated.

Steve sinks into his seat, just a little. “Shit. I fucked up, didn’t I?”

“Just a little.” Hopper chuckles dryly. He takes off his hat and slips into the booth across from Steve, apparently not in any sort of hurry now that he’s found the runaway dog.

Steve runs a hand through his hair, a nervous tic he’s developed. “Sorry.”

“Nah, don’t be sorry. Just strangle Munson for me when you see him next, will ya?” Hopper drops his hat onto the table and waves the waitress down. He orders a coke.

Munson. Eddie.

The memory of how he made a total and utter fool of himself comes rushing back, slamming down onto him like one of those cartoon anvils. Jesus, how did he forget that..?

Suddenly the pancakes aren’t sitting so good in his gut. Feels like he’s gonna ralph.

“Was he freaked out? Eddie, I mean.” Steve asks, cautiously approaching the question. Did Eddie say anything about why…?

“Yeah, him and Robin both. Then the kids found out too—don’t ask me how. I suspect the curly-haired one has an illegal transmitter.” Hopper leans back in the booth as the waitress drops off his coke. He takes the straw out and drinks it right from the glass. Steve waits for him to finish, doesn’t say a word.

When Hopper puts the glass down, Steve just sits and watches the way the drops of condensation run down the cup, distorting around the fingerprints Hopper’s left. “Anyway, they’re all out on their bikes looking for you too.”

Hopper smiles fondly, like it’s something charming and not… pathetic. “You got a lot of people that care about you, kid.

Steve swallows around the lump in his throat, and nods. Tries for a grin, but it’s weak. Probably wouldn’t fool anyone, much less a cop. “Yeah, I’m a real lucky guy.”

Hopper looks like he wants to say something else, but he just takes a breath and nods. Steve’s grateful he doesn’t argue. Doesn’t think he has the energy in him right now to fend off the ‘but look how far you’ve come!’ ‘Your speaking’s gotten so much better!’ ‘It could be a whole heck of a lot worse!’ comments.

“What do you say we get you home? Unless you want dessert? My treat.” Hopper offers with a grin.

“No, I just want to go to sleep,” he says, before remembering his manners, “thanks, though.”

“Alright then.” Hopper glances down at the cleared plate of pancakes and the half finished coke before sliding out of the booth, followed by Steve. He takes out wallet, but Steve beats him to it. He tosses down a few bills, hoping it’s enough. Hopper doesn’t comment, so it must be.

The drive back to his and Robin’s apartment is a solemn one, but it’s strangely peaceful. Hopper’s got the heat on full blast due to Steve’s lack of coat, and the motion of the vehicle along with the darkened sky leaves Steve feeling wrung out in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time.

In fact, when they finally arrive, Hopper’s gotta shake his shoulder to wake him up.

“We’re here.” He rumbles out in his gruff baritone.

Steve lifts his head from his folded arm and looks up at the modest building. He wonders how far they live from the pancake diner. If they could walk there, sometime, him and Robin and Eddie.

But then Steve realizes he never got the name of it. He feels his insides sink. Another thing lost to him.

“Thanks, Hop,” Steve gives Hopper a nod and what he’s sure is a tired smile. “I’ll, uh—I’ll try not to run off again.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it.” Hopper says, diplomatically. “Let me walk you in.”

Steve cringes at the idea. He’s grateful for Hop and all he’s done—especially the part about not making him feel like a complete dummy—but he just wants this all to be over and for things to revert back to how they were. And at this point he’s so close he can taste it.

Steve busies his hands by undoing his seat belt. “No, it’s okay, really—“

Hopper looks like he’s about to argue but Robin damn near crashes out through the building’s illuminated front doors. She makes a b-line for Steve, who’s just barely gotten out of the cruiser.

She wraps her arms around him and doesn’t let go. “Steve! Holy shit, you scared me so bad. I’ve been out of my mind!”

Steve’s arms are trapped at an awkward angle, but he reaches around her as best he can, arms like flippers. “I’m okay. Seriously. Look, not even a scratch.”

She doesn’t laugh. Just squeezes him harder. Truthfully, Steve doesn’t know if he’s okay, but it’s what everyone always seems to want to hear from him, so he says it often.

“I’ve already killed Eddie like three times.” Robin murmurs into Steve’s chest, before finally pulling away. Her eyes are bloodshot, her nose stuffy, like she’s been crying.

“It’s not his fault, Rob.” Steve’s brows pinch together as he frowns, “is he…”

But when Steve looks up towards their building, he can see Eddie standing in the doorframe, his dark silhouette illuminated by the entry way lights. He’s still as a statue, holding open the door for them, arm extended out into the cold autumn night. Steve’s insides squirm.

“You got him from here, Buckley?” Hopper calls from his cruiser and Robin ducks to meet his eye before giving him a thumbs up. She loops her arm around his waist and they start towards their place—towards Eddie.

Before they reach him, Steve keeps his voice down as he asks, “Can I just go to bed? I don’t—I can’t talk about it right now.”

“Okay.” She nods, “I get it.”

But she doesn’t, not really.

Steve avoids eye contact with Eddie when they finally reach the building, and before he can say anything, Robin interrupts. “He’s going straight to bed. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Eddie says in a small voice. He doesn’t argue. Doesn’t even follow them back up to their apartment. Maybe Eddie’s even relieved he doesn’t need to confront it tonight. Maybe they won’t ever confront it… maybe he’s hoping Steve’s brain will take care of everything and make him forget. Make it like it never happened. Part of Steve wishes—

No. He doesn’t wish that. His brain’s already functioning at half capacity, he doesn’t want to thank it for fucking up, even if it might make Steve’s life easier.

Whatever Eddie’s expression is, Steve doesn’t look back to find out. He keeps his eyes on his feet, focusing on putting one step ahead of the other.

When they finally arrive at Steve’s matchbox sized bedroom, he doesn’t even bother changing into pajamas, or even out of his jeans for that matter. He just falls into his bed, pulls a pillow over his head and wills himself to let go of the day and surrender to the sweet pull of blissful unconsciousness.

🫣 Oops, I made it worse. But I promise the Eddie and Steve confrontation is in the next part! 🙏 This is tagged angst with a happy ending for a reason.

Tag List: (message me to add or remove yourself.)

@morallyundefined @estrellami-1 @ollieolive @mugloversonly @wheneverfeasible @steddiefication @what-if-a-dragon @wrenisfangirling @yesdangerpls @flustratedcas @scarletyeager @snowstar2368 @starxlark @sofadofax @lawrencebshoggoth @stevesworldxx @jizzing-bastard-600and69 @bambibiest @queenie-ofthe-void @lilpomelito @bananahoneycomb @kaspurrcat @deadwhiterosesstuff @dame-zoom-a-lot @3vilpurpl3d0t @loudmariachibands @steddieislife

[gainnecorpse]

[swpdz000]

Entwined

yippe i am FINALLY done with uni !!

this calls for a celebration drawing so here's the image that has been plaguing my brain for months

i will go back to hibernate now zzzzz

[randomreasonstolive]

Reason to Live #10000

 For the next 10,000 reasons to come! <3

(Please don't add negative comments to these posts.)

[lexumpysfunland]

After looking at all the Narrators I got I kinda had to pick from all of them- I'm sorry if your Narrator isn't on the list of those I've drawn ;-;

besides that, I had to make sketches for all of those I've drawn : D

Start with @bugenthusiast0 's Narrator... better have the notif to see it because your Narrator looks adorable... I want to hug him

Next, have @finnleywiththesillys 's fun Narrator.

Next, we have @jestie-bestie , they look so nice??? I want to enjoy some tea with them!

Next, it's @employee052 turn, I made him look disgusted x'D he probably is disgusted to know I'm drawing him-

Next... probably the one that started my obsession with TSP really- it's @squarratorsideblog Virus Narrator... I mean... can you blame me for loving this guy? Just look at him!? will probably draw him again

next is @aiberry I find his design really cool- yes, I put something in his screen as a 'placeholder' kind of... forgive me for doing that ;-;

Next is @mariade11art . I really like the way he looks! so for me, it's a win! also... can I hug him?

Next is @lazy-b1rdy . he looks really cute~ I don't know if I'll give him back though /j

Next is @coralkrill 's Narrator. he looks adorable, I do want to hug this silly guy~

Next, we have... @ihazmunchies91 ... can I say how WONDERFUL he is? looks evil and I love that- I love him may draw him in the future again

Next is @semisocialporcupine . I can say that now that I saw how he looked in human form I can die happy.

Then it's @xandyprojects 's turn with a very interesting design I admit! it reminded me of Garnet from Steven Universe... somehow? but anyway, I like it!

and we finish with @juaneloriginal ! the fluffy Narrator that I see everywhere. he is cute though so yeah he deserves it...

and it's all I did... I kinda need a break for a bit since I have a fun headache coming hahah

but for all those who discovered a Narrator or just a new artist you like, go give these people some love! they all deserve it !!

thank you everyone for giving me your designs so I can draw them! I hope you all like it ;-;

I want to say sorry for those I wasn't able to draw... they're all really cool and if I had more motivation I would've drawn them. but hey I'll probably do that again so maybe next time!

on that note, I'll ... try to get some rest maybe... even if I feel like Walter is going to be jealous because I haven't drawn him today /j

[allyheart707]

1 Year Comic Collab - PART 2

<- Part One

THANK YOU to everyone who has joined this collab and everyone else who has stuck with me through this year of my comic! I am so so so thankful for all of you guys! This comic has gotten me out of my comfort zone, helped me find friends, and taught me SO much about art and animation. I would NOT have stuck with it so long if it wasn't for all of your support. <3 <3 <3

A special thank you to @bambiraptorx who helped A TON in setting up the ID's for this comic, @kitmay05 who helped with advice and writing the extra IDs that were left unfinished, @cupkatwarrior9 who also helped a ton with advice and IDs, and @nootdhoodle who created and modded my discord server for me!!

Credits in order top to bottom: @kitmay05. @rainyraisin, @averagetmntfan (line art) & @cosmocafe (color), @flour-consumer, @dianagj-art , @3mutantsinatrenchcoat , @chaos-potat , @irequirealobotomy , @koolaidashley , @risebabyx2 , @clown-froggi , @riseleon , @beetleviolet , @karonkar , @brightonstudios , @cupkatwarrior9 , @bambiraptorx , @fxliciq-a , @truths33k3r4 , and last but not least, @nootdhoodle

[ID: Panel 21- Carol sitting in the middle of a bunk bed, Mikey cuddled up close arms and legs wrapped around Carol. Donnie sitting to the side getting head pats from Carol. She is saying, "once upon a time...". Both boys' tails are wagging.

Panel 22- Huginn hovering in the air saying, "there was a great warrior." Leo tucked in looking so excited he's sparkling. Muninn floats nearby also looking exited.

Panel 23- Heishi lying in his bed. He is so excited that his eyes are shining stars and his mouth is agape. Hugin off screen says "He could beat anyone or anything with just his hands!!"

Panel 24- A digital drawing of Huginn with his arms and wings spread, though part of his body isn't in the frame. He has a happy expression on his face and his mouth is widely opened. His text bubble says "And every time he won, he would give the crowd a big smile and shout-". The drawing is watermarked by flour-consumer.

Panel 25- Hugin and Munin fly behind Heishi, the three are throwing their fists to the air cheering "Hot Soup!" image watermarked by dianagj-art.

Panel 26- Transitions to Raph bedroom which is decorated with glow in the dark stars and movie posters. On a red bed sits Raph who is excitedly listening to his father tell him the story off screen "But more importantly, he was very good looking."

Panel 27- Raph, sitting on his bed, looks disappointed. Splinter is off screen but a speach bubble with his face in it shows that he is laughing at his sons reaction.

Panel 28- Splinter’s ears drop and his face falls into a frown, sitting on the rug beside Raphael’s bed. Raphael, laying on the bed, looks confused and concerned. The room is colorful, with childish toys and posters, and the blanket and rug are red, his color. It is watermarked with “irequirealobotomy” in purple text.

Panel 29- Splinter looking away with a sad expression saying "Then one day... they dissapearred without a trace". The background is a gradient from orange to purple.

Panel 30- Mikey, Carol and Donnie sit on Donnie’s bed. Mikey holds his stuffed bunny George and Carol’s arm as his tail wags. Donnie throws his arms in the air. “What? But… where did he go?! You can’t just disappear…” He squints in deep thought his hand now at his face. “Can you? Maybe…” He points his finger as his eyes light up with ideas. “Maybe he is being hidden, like us! Or-” Watermarked risebabyx2 in the bottom corner.

Panel 31- Mikey and Donnie, sitting on Donnie’s bed. Donnie with a worried expression, mumbling until interrupted by Mikey who excitedly asks; “Do you think we will ever meet him!?” The image is watermarked by clown-froggi.

Panel 32- Carol looking away from Mikey and Donnie somberly, fiddling with her hands. Image is marked on the top left with RiseLeon.

Panel 33- Mikey sitting hugging his legs on the bed. His pink rabbit, George, hugged close. Carol sitting next to him, putting his head, saying "one day, I hope you can do anything you put your mind to." Donnie sitting on her other side looking slightly sullen. Water marked with purpleviolet at the top middle.

Panel 34- Carol tucking in Donnie while Mikey sits beside her. All are smiling. Image is watermarked by Karonkar.

Panel 35- Carol tucking in Mikey on the top bunk bed. Mikey is smiling as he snuggles his stuffed bunny. Carol smiles and pulls the cover over him. Image is watermarked by brightonstudios.

Panel 36- Carol stands in the doorway, facing the dark hall outside. Her hand rests against the edge of the frame. She is looking back over her shoulder, smiling fondly. She is saying "Goodnight, boys." Image is marked at the bottom right by CupKatWarrior9

Panel 37- Mikey sleeps on his stomach, George next to his hand. His blanket mostly covers his legs and the bottom of his shell, with one foot sticking out. Watermarked Bambiraptorx.

Panel 38- Donnie sleeping peacefully in his bed, mouth slightly open.

Panel 39- Heishi asleep in his bed, blankets tightly wrapped around him with a smile on his face. Signed MD in the bottom right.

Panel 40- Raph is asleep in his bed with an arm above his head. Light from the open door illuminates a portion of the room while the rest of it is shadowed. End ID.]

[princehoneytea]

one of my cats passed away today. sweetest girl. she loved chin scritches and my dad's feet! we called her the nurse of the house because whenever you're sick, she'd come purring and want to lay on your head. she passed away peacefully. thank you for everything, little lady <3

[lukolabrainrot]

Do you (or anyone else who wants to answer) have anyone irl you talk to about this ship? All of my friends think I’m crazy and they don’t even know the half of it. I will casually say something that is like 5 layers from the depths of my delulu and they think it’s weird that I’m so invested. Just wondering if anyone else experiences this irl as well.

lol SAME ANON! Nobody irl understands my Lukola hyperfixation. That is why I am so glad to have this community!!

[morethantheycansay]

@callimara and @therentyoupay: collaborate

the jelsa fandom:

[baronessblixen]

Fictober Day 26: Let's Give Them Something To Talk About

Prompt: "You were the first"

@living-in-unreality sent in this ask: Mulder or Scully overhears office gossip about two other agents being placed on separate teams after their workplace relationship was discovered. Bonus points if it happens when the MSR pining is at its peak and they are still scared to take that leap. Rating: T, wc: 1,580

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober24

Over the years, he’s been the topic of office gossip more than once. So when he sees the huddled group and hears the whispering, his mind kicks into overdrive, wondering what he—or they—might have done this time.

But he can’t come up with anything. He and Scully have been model agents of decorum. So what is it about?

He inches closer, trying not to draw any attention to himself. While most agents know him by reputation, few engage in idle chit-chat with him. Then one of the men spots him and crooks a finger at him.

“Spooky, have you heard?” He decides to ignore the dreaded nickname and lets himself be drawn into the circle. He catches a whiff of entitlement and a hint of contempt. But his curiosity is too strong to step away.

“Heard what?”

“The Anderson and Davis affair.” Mulder has no idea who these people are or what they’ve done. His expression must say as much because the agent continues. Not after he rolls his eyes, though.

“They did the nasty. Hooked up. They were found out and have been put on separate teams. I think if Kersh could have, he would have transferred one of them out of state.” Everyone except Mulder laughs. His ears are ringing. He may not know who these two agents are, and he may not be in this exact situation, but it hits far too close to home.

“It’s like I always say,” one of the other agents says. Mulder is certain he’s seen him before, but can’t place him.

“Don’t shit where you eat and don’t fuck where you work.” Another round of laughter makes Mulder feel queasy. He excuses himself, unsure if anyone hears him or even cares. He himself doesn’t care.

The only thing he thinks about is what he’s just witnessed. A team split up because of a personal, romantic relationship. His thoughts jump to Scully. To their journey toward more than friends and partners. What if this happened to them? God knows they’ve tried to separate them before. He can’t let it happen. He can’t risk losing her.

*

Scully’s eyes are burning a hole into his temple. They’re challenging him to turn and give her a sign or anything to assure her he’s okay. But he keeps his head and eyes forward. He’s not paying attention to the meeting at all; that in itself is nothing unusual.

More often than not, Mulder and Scully will doodle, share a crossword puzzle, or even send notes back and forth. Like a couple of teenagers. His reluctance to face her has consequences too. Someone elbows him in the ribs and then there’s a neatly folded piece of paper in front of him.

“Are you okay?” Only Scully would send a note like this. It’s so her that he almost smiles. Instead, and with great difficulty, he screws the note up and puts it in his pocket.

He’s so tempted to turn to her and see her expression, but he doesn’t dare. He’ll crumble. He knows he’s on borrowed time as it is; as soon as this meeting is over, Scully will find him. His queasiness returns and he swallows hard.

Once the meeting is over, Mulder grabs his things and flees the conference room. He’s lucky that he’s tall and broad; agents step aside and let him through.

“Mulder.” Scully’s voice is too demanding to keep walking. He freezes and turns to her.

“Are you okay? What’s the matter?” It’s the worry in her tone and expression that gets him.

“Not feeling well,” he mumbles. At least it’s only half a lie.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” She puts her hand on his forehead and he winces. What if someone sees them? What if they draw the wrong conclusions? He bats her hand away, and the hurt in her eyes is too much for him to bear.

“I’m just gonna- going home. See you.” Her eyes follow him as he stalks off. What the hell is he going to do now?

*

The knock doesn’t surprise him; he expected it. What surprises him is how long Scully stayed away. He opens the door and there she is, holding a plastic bag.

“Hey,” he says.

“How are you feeling?” He shrugs. “I brought you chicken soup.” That’s his Scully. Against his better judgment, he opens the door wider and she steps inside, walking in under his still outstretched arm.

“I didn’t make it,” she says, unloading the bag in his kitchen. “I wouldn’t want you to feel worse.” A smile flits across her face. It only fades when she sees his blank face.

“Did something happen?” she asks point blank, crossing her arms in front of her chest. In that moment she reminds him of Diana. He’s wise enough not to mention it – even if it would drive her away. He doesn’t want to hurt her. None of this is her fault.

In the past, when no one cared what agents did in their private lives, and when he and Diana could have been Anderson and Davis – whoever they are – she’d close herself off to him just like this. She’d wanted space when he wanted closeness. It wasn’t that either of them were bad people; they had just never worked.

“Mulder, please, whatever it is, we-”

“I heard some gossip today.” That doesn’t faze Scully. What must the gossip mill be like in the ladies’ room? The men are bad enough as it is.

“About us? That’s nothing new, is it? Just ignore it.”

“Not about us,” he admits, biting his lip. “Do you know Anderson and Davis?” Her eyes grow wide.

“I know Agent Davis,” she says. “Why? Did something happen to them?”

“In a manner of speaking. They were caught and split up.”

“Caught?” Scully asks and he realizes that she isn’t grasping what he doesn’t want to say out loud.

“They were more than partners.” The penny still hasn’t dropped. “They were in a relationship,” Mulder explains. “A romantic relationship.”

“So?”

“So? I’m not going to- Scully, they were split up because they’re dating.”

“That’s against regulations,” Scully says, sounding sure of herself. Mulder shakes his head.

“I heard it, Scully.”

“Where?” Her voice is laced with suspicion and her arms are still crossed.

“In front of the men’s room.”

“Oh, Mulder. How do you even know they were telling the truth? Do you know what insane rumors are making the rounds in the Hoover building?”

“But… Anderson and Davis have been put on separate teams. I checked.” He didn’t do it to get proof. He wanted to put faces to their names. For a while, he just stared at their ID pictures. There was nothing particularly special about them; Mulder has probably crossed their path several times in the last few years.

“They could have been split up for a number of reasons. There’s no rule against partners dating.”

“How do you know that?” Scully blushes.

“I checked.”

“When?” He needs to know.

“Recently,” she admits, clearing her throat. “That’s not the point, Mulder. You’ve been acting strange all day. What does this rumor have to do with anything?”

“When I heard what happened,” Mulder says, “you were the first… the first thought that crossed my mind.”

“Me?”

“You and… me. I know I’m presuming things here and we’re not- but we could maybe eventually and I panicked.”

“And instead of telling me this, you thought you’d ignore me, pretend to be sick, and run off?”

“Well, when you say it like that,” he says, smiling sheepishly. “I couldn’t – I can’t risk losing you, Scully. That’s all. I couldn’t get it out of my head. What if someone saw us play baseball the other night?”

His most cherished memory, now tainted. Just the thought. He imagines someone keeping tabs on them, waiting for them to cross the line. He had wanted to kiss her so badly. All the stars had aligned – literally. And he’d chickened out. Now he thinks that maybe it was better this way.

“What we do in our private time is our business.”

“Apparently not,” Mulder mumbles.

“Mulder, you don’t know what happened. They might have been frisky while on assignment or at work. And either way, we’re not like them.” It takes him a moment to catch her meaning. They’re not like them. What she’s saying is that they’re not at risk because she isn’t interested in changing their relationship at all. Once again, he’s been misreading all the signs.

“No,” he says dejectedly. “We’re not.”

“No, Mulder, you don’t understand.” She sighs, invading his personal space. “When we- when that happens, we’ll inform HR.”

When – not if.

“What you’re saying is?”

“Please presume things,” she says. She smiles at him before she gets on her tiptoes and presses a kiss to his lips. He blinks as rapidly as his heart beats. “I leafed through the regulations last month,” Scully confesses with pink cheeks. “While romantic relationships are not encouraged, they’re not forbidden. All you have to do is disclose them to HR.”

“We can do that,” he says, his spirits lifting. She nods, unable to hide her smile.

“And I could have just told you that earlier, but you decided to play possum.”

“Gotta add some spice sometimes, Scully.” He grins at her. “So, when do you think we should let HR know?”

“Tomorrow.” She’s in his arms, kissing him, and he’s agreeing with everything she says and does.

[watchyourbuck]

That’s right folks! The B in LGBTQA+ stands for Buck!

[foreverdolly]

just wanted to post a little update for you guys.

from the bottom of my heart, thank you so much for all of the well wishes, condolences and kindness as far as my dad's spirit or my family and i's healing process goes. i am genuinely blown away by the level of support i have received. not only that but i am truly touched about all of the messages i've gotten where people can relate to my dad's addiction. i had no clue so many other families struggle with this as well, and being a daughter/child in it all is horrible. i truly wouldn't wish it upon my worst enemy. i was crying to my sister and let her know that i've been getting so many messages of people relating to me, and she was quick to say that "they no longer feel alone in their experiences either now", which is truly beautiful.

I'm about to go through and try to respond to each and every one of you as well as answer the asks that have been sent to me during this time. the first thing i thought of when i woke up this morning was if he was having a good dream before he passed. ironically, he spoke about how weird his dreams were during our last phone call. he had frequent nightmares and dreams about still being with my mom, and i pray that he was at peace that night in his resting thoughts and feelings.

god, this doesn't feel real. the day before yesterday i was talking to my mom on the phone about something i remembered from early, early childhood. my mom couldn't remember if i was right and so the thought "let me call my dad and check" immediately popped into my head. i can't call him. not ever again.

please hug your loved ones close. no matter how busy you are, call your parents and check on them. i wish so so deeply that i had called him a few more times before he passed. the last thing we talked about before he hung up was how hot my house was and that i need to call my landlord. hahaha.

[whillowed]

they have a particular way of solving problems

[tristarnova]

Thank you to everyone who got me to 250 likes, here’s the names of everyone how helped the most

@galacticsomewhat @dragonlovegacha @cooler193 @thelazyclown @tristarnova @magologoro @friedcowboypeachpurse @yuriyaoidestroyer @bengal-tigers-on-petunias @soul-of-justice--uty @naomiemuffet @qibsichan @jassylife @kokorodachidanii @cheezbot @wonderhqy @fabseg-creator @darknerdofthesith @dashabot @awkwardqueercreature @moo-ney @iconicosmica @goldenpotato081 @sazdoesarts @keripulli @alechans-cutetickles @professionalyapotologist @evilheart12 @skeleton-mischief @dog-eater822

Thank you everyone

[badass-at-fandoming]

I've been around Vampire: the Masquerade tumblr fandom long enough to observe a distinct, hilarious trend of VtM fandom experience. The fan experience usually goes something like this:

oooo, vampires! Yay! So much lore!

this lore is contradictory on purpose and terribly racist & misogynistic not on purpose. Wtf. Someone (me?) should fix it

An Indiana Jones insert is a Bride of Dracula

We know Indy's dick size

This lore is very silly and I'm going to take what I want and trash the rest. The dick size lore can stay.