#nearly died writing this

[sarahpaulsonsoftie]

(Not such a) Bad Idea

Larissa Weems X reader-

Songfic based on bad idea by girl in red, loosely. Reader is a final year university student and often frequents the Weathervane for their impeccable coffee (it’s just for the free Wi-Fi). Larissa is the principal of Nevermore academy and often frequents the Weathervane for their impeccable coffee (it’s just for the peace and quiet).

Or

Two dumb gays in love and Marilyn meddles.

Huge thank you to @h-doodles who majorly helped me with the plotline with this one. Honestly cannot thank you enough, I hope it meets your expectations :) <3

-

It was a typical Thursday Morning for you, early enough for the Weathervane to be open, which meant you could claim a booth and work on your thesis statement. Typically, the weathervane was a quite café but for some reason, today it was packed and there was no seating available elsewhere.

Just as you had frequented the café, there was also an extremely tall lady, with ocean blue eyes and always wearing pristine clothing. You would often catch her eyes and she would smile at you, which would make you feel like you were going to faint. God, to see that smile in the morning would give you enough motivation to get through the day, and you would yearn for it long after she was gone.

Almost as if your thoughts had summoned her, in she stepped, noticing how busy it was and she approached the counter, giving her order. Her order is placed in front of her, and you notice her eyes wander around the café and eventually her eyes lock with yours.

You do your best to hide the fact you were staring by turning your focus onto your laptop, a flush growing on your cheeks.

“Hello.” You hear a British accent say and you look up, almost fainting because the woman who you had just been staring at has approached you. Oh my god, she’s British. “Is there any chance I could share a booth with you? Its quite busy in here today.”

“Oh- Yeah, of course, I don’t mind!” You say, probably too enthaustically, but she doesn’t comment and instead you decide to offer up your name “I’m Y/N.” You smile.

The woman smiles wider at you, “Larissa.” She returns, and you feel your face flush. Oh my god, even her name is ethereal. You grin as you turn back and begin to type away.

Moment’s pass, before your eyes raise to see Larissa watching you curiously, and you feel yourself blushing. Larissa takes a sip of her drink before nodding her head to your laptop.

“What are you working on?” Larissa enquires, as her eyes crinkle with her smile. You nearly stop breathing at the realization that she’s speaking to you.

“Me? Oh, uhm, nothing interesting, just my thesis statement for Uni.” You smile and Larissa rolls her eyes lightly with a smirk.

“Of course, it’s not interesting, otherwise you wouldn’t be staring at me every time I come in.” Larissa teases and you feel your ears grow hot, and your eyes grow wide in shock.

“Oh, sorry! I mean no offence!” You say urgently, realizing you’re probably embarrassing yourself even. You try to focus back on your laptop, hoping the floor will swallow you up. Larissa lightly pushes your laptop so its half closed.

“Oh, believe me, it’s quite the compliment actually.” She states with a smile before chuckling. “Gosh, its going to sound rather silly but sometimes, I hope to see you staring to figure out if I’ve made the right outfit choice.”

You’re certain if you blush anymore, you will faint. “Oh, I bet you’d still look good in a trash bag.” You manage to say before you can stop yourself and Larissa chuckles, and you smile yourself.

“Well, Y/N, thank you for that wonderful insight. I’m sure my wardrobe will thank you.” Larissa smiles before checking her watch. “I suppose it’s time for me to leave. Goodluck with your thesis, Y/N.”

Larissa stands to leave and begins to turn away and looks at you again, “You’ll be here tomorrow?” She asks and all you can do is nod.

-

Friday morning couldn’t have come quicker for you, and you excitedly sit down in your booth, jittering with excitement as you see Larissa enter. You lock eyes with her, and she smiles at you from across the café. You open your laptop and at least try to pretend that you are focused on something other than her.

Larissa grabs her order and sits opposite you in your booth, and you smile at each other.

“Morning.” You smile, looking up from your laptop and Larissa is wearing a sage green dress with a golden chain necklace, complete with a golden watch and you swear you can faint. “I suppose you didn’t feel like wearing a trash bag today, huh?” You joke, your face flushing.

Larissa chuckles lightly and she has you enchanted by the sound. She takes a sip from a drink as she raises her brow at you.

“Oh please, you’re too nice to me.” Larissa states and you take a sip of your own coffee before you close your laptop. Larissa looks at you questioningly, “Off for the day?”

“Oh, no. I’m gonna be here for a while but there’s no point in pretending anything else has my attention when you’re sitting in front of me.” You grin, you have no idea where the confidence has come from, but you decide that since Larissa has decided to sit with you for a second time, it’s the confidence you need.

Larissa chuckles again and smirks at you again. “Careful, you might convince me to never leave.”

You grin at her cheekily, you’re sure your cheeks are flushed but you decide to ignore and begin to speak, “you say that as if it’s a bad thing. Perhaps I don’t want you to.” You say, and Larissa smiles before taking another sip.

“You never told me what your thesis was on.” She states and shuffles somewhat close to you, and you look down at your laptop before looking back up at her.

“Like I said yesterday, nothing too interesting. But I’m currently writing about Rene Descartes influence on modern philosophy, seeing as some consider him the father of modern philosophy.” You say and roll your eyes.

“Ah, and this does not interest you?” Larissa questions, her hands finding themselves onto the table.

“It’s not so much that it doesn't interest me, but I am not too keen on modern philosophies, I know, I know, they paved the way for society today, especially with the way he connected geometry and Algebra, but I suppose at heart, I’m more of an ancient Greek gal.” You say with a light grin, and Larissa looks intently at you, a light smile on her lips. “Sorry, I’m boring you.” You say, and Larissa’s hand reaches out to touch your arm.

“No, I find it quite refreshing how passionate you are.” Larissa states and her hand doesn’t move from your arm, you grin up at her.

“Soo, what about you? What do you do?” You ask and Larissa smiles a tight smile before looking up at you.

“I’m the principal of Nevermore academy.” She says proudly and she watches as your eyebrows furrow together, and she removes her hand from your arm, anticipating some sort of backlash.

“Nevermore? I don’t think I’ve—Oh! Nevermore, the academy for outcasts? Wait, sorry, is outcast the right word? I dunno if I got that right, erm but yeah, I’m sorry if that’s offensive! But also, principal? That’s awesome!” You say, and watch as Larissa breathes a sigh of relief, and you eye her curiously.

“Yes, outcast is the correct term. Although, some would not consider it ‘awesome’, but I suppose that’s their problem.” Larissa states and you look at her.

“Some people just like hating people.” You state, “Like how some people hate me cause I’m gay, but I think that sort of hate just makes you more accepting. But you being the principal of Nevermore academy is awesome.” You smile comfortingly, as you place your hand hesitantly onto Larissa’s.

Larissa checks her watch and frowns before looking at you. “I’m sorry, darling but its time for me to go back to the academy.” Larissa says before standing, “May I see your phone?” She asks and you nod, handing her your unlocked phone, she types in something before handing it back to you with a smile.

“You have my number now, message me if you get bored with your thesis. I hope I can help with the boredom.” Larissa smiles, hesitating slightly before placing a kiss on your cheek. She then begins to leave, looking over her shoulder before waving with a smile.

Okay, so she called you darling, and then kissed your cheek, and THEN gave you, her number. You can die happily now.

-

You submit your thesis statement draft Friday evening and take out your phone to find the contact Larissa saved. You click onto it and begin to type out a message.

‘I submitted my thesis draft.’ You type and send almost immediately, excited to finally have a reason to message Larissa.

You see the read icon almost immediately and then the typing icon. You stay on the chat and watch intently as the typing icon appears and disappears three times before the message comes through.

‘Does this mean I won’t see your beautiful face in the morning now?’ Is the response and you squeal, squeal. Squeal at the response. You begin to type out your response.

‘No, luckily for you, and unluckily for me, it was only the draft, I still have to submit the real thing ☹’ You type back ‘Plenty of boredom on my part still, and many mornings left in the weathervane.’

‘I suppose you’re not too busy to attend the Harvest festival with me next weekend?’ Is what Larissa says and you swear you feel as if you can faint, this woman is too much and you love it.

‘only if you promise I can win you a prize.’ You respond and there is a grin on your face.

-

The weekend and week pass quite quickly and eventually the day of the harvest festival arrives. You and Larissa had been in the Weathervane nearly every single morning, except for Sunday, because you decided to take the day to have a break, due to Larissa’s encouragement.

You are dressed already, after much changing and tweaking but you decided on your final outfit change that it would have to do otherwise you would drive yourself crazy.

You pull out your phone and begin to type out a message to Larissa ‘hey, did you want to meet out front?’

You place your shoes on and feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. You look to see Larissa has messaged ‘Nonsense, I’m outside yours, we can walk there together.’

Your stomach does butterflies as you almost sprint to your front door and open it and see Larissa standing there holding two cups of coffee. You shut your door as you look up at her and nearly choke on your own breath.

She’s wearing a light green dress that cuts off just off above her knee, hugging her in all the right places, and a matching jacket, her hair pinned up in its usual pristine style.

“Hi.” You say, nervously shuffling on your feet and Larissa smiles lightly before stepping closer and handing you your coffee before kissing you on your cheek.

“Hi, sweetheart.” She smiles, as she pulls back. Your cheeks feel hot, and you look up at her through your eyelashes. “You look absolutely divine.”

“Me?” You manage to say, before looking down at your feet, “What about you?” You ask.

Larissa’s hand cups underneath your chin, as she brings your eyes up to meet hers, a smirk playing on her lips “Where’s the shyness come from, darling? Did I make the right outfit choice?”

“You look like a goddess.” You say, and Larissa grins down at you. You move your eyes away from hers and Larissa lets go of your chin.

“A goddess? That’s a new one.” She smiles and takes your hand into hers as you begin to walk. “Is that from all your university study? Is that where you’ve learnt to sweet talk?”

“Oh, no, it’s not sweet talk if it’s the truth.” You smile shyly up at Larissa and she grins at you, before taking a sip of her own coffee.

-

It’s a few hours into the night and you and Larissa have been endlessly flirting, lingering touches, longing looks.

You manage to catch a glimpse of a game booth that would let you win prizes, and you grab Larissa’s hand and excitedly pull her towards it, and you look back at her with a grin.

“I believe I promised to win you a prize.” You say and Larissa’s arm wraps around your shoulder.

“You don’t have spend so much time trying to win me a prize, when you’re already here next to me.” Larissa states and you look at her, and bite your lip, trying to ignore the heat that flushed throughout your body.

“I promised.” You repeat and Larissa’s eyes soften as she lets you wander off to the stall. She watches as you speak to the man running the booth and laugh along with him, and you look back towards her with a grin. She’s standing a distance away from you, not wanting to approach, content in watching your excitement.

She watches as the man hands you the throwing balls and you throw the first one, knocking down nearly half off the cans down. She watches as you grin and look back towards her and Larissa cannot help the yearn in her heart.

Your second throw leaves only one can left, and she watches how your tongue sticks out in concentration on your last throw and Larissa grins as you get the last can on the last throw, you jump excitedly and the man running the booth allows you to pick out your prize.

You throw another glance towards Larissa with a smile as you pick out your prize, her prize, and hide it behind your back as you make your way back towards her.

“That was impressive.” Larissa grins and you look up at her with a huge smile. You move your hands from behind your back, showing two matching bear keychains.

“I picked this cause, even if I’m not with you, or you’re not with me, you’ll see it and be reminded of me.” You say and hold out one to her, keeping the other for yourself.

Larissa doesn’t say anything as she takes the keychain from your hand and stares at for a moment before her hand is on your cheek and crashing your lips together.

You respond to the kiss immediately, and Larissa’s hands find your hips before she pulls away and rests her forehead against yours.

“I think we should go back to yours.” She says, slightly out of breath and you nod in agreement, speechless over this woman.

-

When you wake the next morning, Larissa’s arms are wrapped around your waist and you smile softly before checking the time. 07:04am. You shuffle so you’re facing Larissa and she looks even more beautiful than you could have imagined. Her hair is undone from it’s usual style, laying bare into the pillows underneath it, her face is bare from any makeup and you’re close enough to see every freckle that has graced her face.

Larissa stirs slightly before opening her eyes and looking at you. “Morning, sweetheart.” She says, her voice laced in sleep. Her hand reaches up to your cheek and she places a light kiss to your lips. “Do you know what the time is?”

“Oh, its just passed 7.” You say, leaning into Larissa’s touch. Larissa’s eyes widen in shock before she’s making her way out your bed quickly, speeding to pick up her clothes that are strewn about from the previous. “What’s wrong?”

“I have a meeting with the mayor at 8! Did you see where I put my phone?” She asks and you take it from the nightstand and hand it to her. “Thank you.”

There is a slight nervousness to her nature that you shrug off due to her being late, you get out of the bed and watch as she gets dressed quickly, amazed at how she can pull herself together so quickly.

“Where are you meeting him?” You ask Larissa, standing in front behind her as she uses your mirror to fix her hair into its usual style. She turns back to look at you, her hands pausing their movements.

“At a café in Burlington, I left my car at the academy, so I’ll have to get a taxi.” Larissa says, stepping closer to you. “I’ll message you.” She says, before kissing your cheek and leaving.

-

Days pass and you have yet to hear anything back from Larissa. You had left her a message, in which she had just read and not responded. You take the hint, no matter how much it hurts, and you do not attempt to message her.

It’s Wednesday morning and you’re sitting in your usual booth. You notice how Larissa hasn’t come in during the mornings anymore. You sigh lightly as you take out your flash drive and spare a glance to the bear keychain you had attached to it.

A shadow darkens your laptop and you feel hope swell in your chest, at the possibility of it being Larissa but as you see another figure, a lady in which you hadn’t seen before at this time of the morning, who had red hair and was wearing glasses, along with a baby blue cardigan over a summery dress. You smile lightly.

“Hi.” She says, almost nervously. “May I sit here?” She asks, and you look around the café and notice hoe the seating is unusually full. You nod and smile. “I’m Marilyn.”

“Y/N.” You return, with a shy smile. You try to focus on your work but notice the lady, Marilyn, staring at you. You bring your eyes up to meet hers and she smiles softly.

“What are you working on, Y/N?” Marilyn asks and you look at your laptop. Déjà vu from the first time you and Larissa spoke. You frown lightly and look back towards her.

“Just my thesis for Uni.” You return, shortly. You don’t mean to come across as rude but you know that the last time you had been nice to someone sitting with you at the booth, you had a one night stand, and she avoided you since.

Yet, your heart still yearned for. Marilyn’s eyebrows furrow together as she watches you together, throwing a glance at your bear keychain.

“I hope you don’t mind my saying so, but you seem quite upset.” Marilyn states and you bite the inside of your cheeks. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to but since I’m just a stranger, it might be nice to talk about.” Marilyn shrugs lightly, taking a sip of her drink, and you notice it in a to go cup.

You sigh, contemplating and decide that it would be nice to talk about it. “I, uh, met someone. I thought we were getting along great, we went to the harvest festival together, she kissed me, and then we went back to mine together. I haven’t heard from her since, haven’t seen her since even though she usually comes here in the morning.” You admit, and Marilyn looks at you comfortingly.

“I have a friend, who’s in somewhat of a similar situation.” Marilyn states, “Well, not exactly the same, kind of the opposite, and she’s the avoider. But she did so for a reason.”

You close your laptop and look at Marilyn whose hands are resting on the table and Marilyn smiles softly, looking at you with warm eyes.

“What reason would that be?” You ask, taking a sip of your drink, before avoiding her eyes.

“Well, see the person she was seeing was quite a bit younger than her, and after they got together, she just felt insecure about her age, about the difference in the stages of their lives. I mean, my friend has her career and knows that she wants to stay in her job for the rest of her life, but she confessed to me that the person she was seeing hasn’t even finished studying yet. She’s scared that this person won’t wanna be with her once she realizes the difference.” Marilyn says and you watch her, your eyes feel as if they’re growing wet. You don’t say anything immediately, noticing the similarities.

“Well, has she asked the person she’s seeing? Cause, you know, the woman I was seeing was quite the bit older than me and that was never a problem for me.” You shrug before sighing again. “Guess she just wanted some fun. It was a bad idea.”

Marilyn nods along, listening to what you say before checking her phone for the time. “I’ve gotta go now, will you be here tomorrow?" She asks and you nod.

-

A week passes and you and Marilyn become quite close friends, often giving each other separate advice. It’s evening time for as you type away on your laptop, its nearing closing time but you have just one more argument to write before you can leave.

You hear the door to the café open and you look up, seeing Larissa enter. Almost immediately, her eyes are locking with yours and you look back at your laptop, saving the file and closing it up before you get up to leave.

You make it halfway to the exit before you hear your name being called. “Y/N!” Larissa says, taking long strides, and you look back towards her, moving back slightly as she stands in front of you.

“Oh, hi.” You say, before pulling out your phone, pretending to check the time. “I’ve got to go, but it was nice seeing you.” You say, with a fake smile.

You turn around and leave the café, making sure you do not glance back, yet you yearn to, to turn around and you hope that Larissa will call out your name, but your heart drops as you walk down the street, and she still hasn’t called out your name.

You feel used. You feel sad and used. Did what you have mean nothing to you?

Unbeknownst to you, Larissa watches you leave, her hands gripping onto the keychain you had won for her, her cheeks growing wet as she realizes how much she has hurt you.

-

The weekend arrives and Marilyn invites you out to a bar, just for a friendly drink she had said. You enter the bar, which lighting is low and you notice Marilyn is at the bar, grabbing drinks and you approach her with a small grin.

“Hi, Marilyn.” You smile and Marilyn grins at you, looking up at you from over her glasses. You notice her taking two drinks from the bartender and thanking him, you furrow your eyebrows at her in confusion as Marilyn smiles.

“Hi, Y/N. I hope you don’t mind, but I invited another one of my friends.” Marilyn smirks, and hands you one of the drinks she has ordered. It’s a glass of red wine and you smile at her taking a sip.

“That’s fine, any friend of yours is a friend of mine.” You smile, and Marilyn grins as she leads you to a table, your eyes are more focused on the bar, and you almost bump into Marilyn as she stops, grinning like a fool as she looks at you.

You move your eyes to the table and to your absolute surprise, Larissa is sitting there is a low-cut dress and her usual golden chain. She stands once she sees you. ���Y/N.” She says and you look at her.

“Hi, Larissa.” You say, slightly tense, and Marilyn places her drink on the table. She shuffles slightly before speaking.

“I see you two have already met, which is great because I need the bathroom.” She grins and she rushes away.

“Wait, Marilyn!” You call after her, and she ignores you, as she walks through a crowd. You look back to Larissa and swallow. Jesus, even when you’re mad at her, she still has the ability to make you speechless. You frown as you connect the dots. “You’re the friend Marilyn was telling me about?” You ask, and Larissa steps closer to you. You don’t back away this time, and Larissa takes this a win.

“So that means, you are also the friend that Marilyn was telling me about.” Larissa says and her eyes soften. Her hands find yours slowly, in fear of you pulling away. You don’t and Larissa breathes a sigh of relief before speaking, “I never wanted to use you for fun, Y/N. I just—What I felt- what I feel- is very real and I was scared you’d think I was too old for you.”

You step closer to Larissa, looking up at her through your eyelashes. “I never would have thought that.” You say softly, and Larissa removes her hands from yours, placing them onto your hips. “I was, I am, falling for you, Larissa. You hurt me.” You say, and your cheeks grow hot as Larissa’s grip on you tightens.

“I am sorry, sweetheart. It was never my intention. But after I left yours in a hurry, I thought, I thought, you wouldn’t want to see me because of the workload I have, and I though you might’ve wanted more excitement.” Larissa says, her face coming closer to yours, “But, I have to admit that I am falling- No, I am in love with you, I’m in love with the excitement that radiates from you, the shyness that have when you see me, the passion you have for university, and the I love you.” Larissa confesses, her breath tickiling your lips.

You breath hitches as you close your eyes, before opening them again to see Larissa’s ocean blue eyes staring into your soul. “I’m in love with you too. I love hoe passionate you are about your career, I love how much you care about your students, I love the way you always make me feel so nervous.” You say and Larissa brings your lips together, in a soft, caring, loving, passionate kiss.

You eventually pull away and rest your foreheads together. In the distance you hear Marilyn yell. You both look over towards her as she’s grinning madly before she shouts, “I did it!”

You and Larissa look at each other before giggling.

Fin

#larissa weems x reader #wednesday #larissa weems imagine #larrisa weems #omg these bitches gay #fluff #fluffy asf #nearly died writing this #platonic marilyn thornhill x reader #marilyn thornhill #marilyn is not laurel

[stevebabey]

part one here. ze part two to touch-starved stevie that absolutely no one requested hehe <3 but i gots to let my boys have a wee kiss :")

So, hugs with Eddie become… well, a thing.

Not a thing. They’re not a thing, Steve and Eddie. It’s totally the same as when he gets hugs from Robin. Eddie’s doing him a favour as a friend. It’s got the 100% platonic energy of getting a hug from a friend — a hug that usually melts into some form of a cuddle, limbs all tangled together until they can’t tell whose are whose.

Except, Steve doesn’t really do that second part with Robin. Like he hasn’t done it ever with Robin.

So, it’s an Eddie thing.

But they’re not a thing. Not matter how much Steve would actually very much like for that happen. Okay, maybe Steve’s overthinking the whole thing a bit, but he just can’t tell.

Where’s the line? It’s infuriating not being able to discern between platonic and more, just because Steve wasn’t held enough as a fucking baby. Out of all the things he resents his parents for, Steve’s surprised that this is so near the top.

Because, sure, Steve’s had more than his fair share of hookups. He knows that sort of touch. He knows the shape of lust; the scrapes of fingernails down backs, the tight grips over skin, the push and pull of the heat of the moment.

And this thing with Eddie… is not that.

So, really, Steve knows that it’s all friendly. Eddie is just being nice. He’s being a decent dude and helping his friend out — by catapulting himself into Steve’s arms at every opportune moment.

(Steve’s only dropped 3 mugs of coffee because of this so far. It’s only because Eddie says good catch, big boy with a devilish grin every time that Steve manages to catch Eddie that Steve hasn’t completely told him to knock it off. Just yet, at least.)

And he’s different in other areas. He’ll always seem to choose the seat next to Steve on movie-nights now, content to snuggle right up to him. They get thigh to thigh, arm to arm — and Eddie only needs to get about 20 minutes in for him to do a big sigh, like an old dog, and slump over, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve notices though. He always notices.

It’s impossible not to— the skin, even if there’s 3 layers between them, burns blazing warm. Eddie’s hair drapes over his arm, a curl inevitably tickling along Steve’s collar. He can feel the rise and fall of Eddie’s breathing, the little shake of when he laughs.

It drives Steve a little insane— insane in the way that makes him think about burying his fingers in those curls again, about pressing his lips against Eddie’s pretty mouth just to feel the smile against his skin, about digging into his chest so he can climb into his chest and live there.

Yeah, it’s— well, it’s safe to say that the effect of Eddie’s touchiness has sent what was once a fleeting thought of a crush into mind-melting levels of affection.

But he can’t fucking tell.

-

To Steve’s credit, neither can Eddie.

Which is not surprisingly considering sometimes he catches himself wondering how the hell he ended up here; in a close-knit friendship with band-geek Robin Buckley, princess Nancy Wheeler, and King Steve Harrington.

Okay, the Robin one sort of makes sense. He thinks that if no matter when their paths crossed, he and Robin would’ve always even some sort of strange friends - her snark complimenting his bitchiness. Also, the whole super queer thing helps too. Even the friendship with Nancy works, in its own weird way.

Steve though? He’s the fucking curve ball.

It works though, the two of them. Surprisingly well, actually — the two of them get on like a house on fire, bitchy quips back and forth. Even better, is the quiet that they can share. Steve loves to come around and do… nothing. Do nothing with Eddie, though.

So, even though Eddie had noticed the tension in Steve with touch, little moments where he turned rigid when Eddie’s usual wandering hands got too comfortable — Eddie chalked it up to the usual. Guys bring too uncomfortable with him, too weird about another guy being touchy. It didn’t matter than Eddie wasn’t even out to Steve yet, he was still might be that type of guy.

Well, Eddie had certainly thought so. Sure, Steve might not be one of those jocks who smacked around boys who looked too long in the locker room, but if he knew a smidge of the truth, who really knows. It would explain the tenseness at least.

But then— ‘Can I… have a hug?’ There had been a dozen things Eddie was thinking that Steve could’ve asked for but that? Wasn’t even in the ballpark. It was so left-field it left Eddie speechless for a whole moment. And Steve had been staring at the ceiling, his hands curled up tight again like- like he thought Eddie might say no.

A ridiculous thought, honestly. Anyone who knew Eddie well enough knew he was touchy; loved giving it, loved getting it. Like an overly affectionate cat, Wayne had once called him, just 11 years old, because Eddie’s need for affection seem to never be sated.

After that night, Steve’s lack of touch became far more obvious. It’s always hair ruffles or high-fives, yet never hugs. Normally, Eddie would keep to that boundary; some people are less touchy other than others, he knows that.

But… “Sometimes I realise it’s been awhile, since I’ve had some touch.” That’s what Steve had said, his words. Eddie doesn’t even think he meant to say something so heartbreaking. In fact, the guy seemed embarrassed.

It had thrown Eddie for a loop— because Steve gets around. He’s nearly notorious for one-night stands and failed flings, as Robin loves to drone on about considering she’s subjected to all the flirting. What had originally been a point of envy for Eddie, just saturates the bleakness of Steve’s words. Sex but without a moment of intimacy.

So, while Eddie is miles away from being the person who gets into Steve’s pants — not for lack of want, mind you — he does try hike up the touchiness. Little things. Lingering when he taps him on the arm, hooking his chin over Steve’s shoulder to peer over it, leaning up against him when they’re side by side watching a film.

It’s good. It helps Eddie release the pressure of his stupid monumental god-awful crush he has. Yeah, yeah, it’s laughable, even to Eddie. It’s like Gay 101; don’t get crush on straight dudes, especially the ones you’re friends with. And yet…

Steve lets him. He lets Eddie give him touch, more than he lets anyone else. He still tenses; there’s still always a moment before he can remember to relax, like he’s trying to shake off bad thoughts but then he melts. He always melts into Eddie’s touch eventually — in a way Eddie knows Steve actually loves it, drinks it up as much as he can.

And maybe, Eddie is the biggest fool to grace the Earth to let that fact give him some hope. Sue his gooey heart, he’s a romantic. It’s a quiet hope but, it’s there.

Tonight, it seems relaxing for Steve is been harder than usual— several times has Eddie traced a quite long along Steve’s arms, a subtle point that they were far too tense for someone who was wrapped up in cuddles on the couch. ‘Cos that’s 100% what they are now. Eddie will still call them hugs, but usually, when it’s just the two of them, it becomes this.

Steve, tucked up into the corner of the couch, one leg flush along the back of the couch and one hanging off the edge. It’s the prime position for Eddie to crawl up, wind his arms around Steve’s middle and give him a good squeeze and then settle there. Head on Steve’s chest, lying in the cradle of his hips. Safe. Warm.

It makes him warm, oh very warm to know that he gets this. That Steve doesn’t give this amount of trust to many, if any, other people but Eddie — he trusts Eddie.

“Y’know,” Eddie says, cheeks smushed against the plain of Steve’s pec. It feels deliciously warm and Eddie’s fairly sure he can feel how toned it is just through his cheek. Hot bastard. “I’m actually real glad you asked for that hug all those weeks ago.”

He leaves it there ‘cos he knows Steve will ask. Eddie’s eyes stay on the buzzing tv-screen even as Steve’s head shifts, turning to peer down at the boy slumped on his chest. Eddie’s pretty sure he can see Steve’s mouth twitch up into a smile.

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” Eddie affirms, giving a nod and his eyes flick up to meet Steve’s for just a moment. “Think I’ve had some of the best hugs in the world.”

Okay, that was maybe more honest and sappy than Eddie was going for. He is just letting Steve know he isn’t just doing it for Steve — that he enjoys these moments just as much. He lays it on thick, tries for a smarmy angle.

“Swept up in these pillowy arms?” He croons, giving Steve’s bicep a quick squeeze, making the other chuckle softly. “Who wouldn’t think so? I’m a lucky guy.”

Despite the joking tone, there’s no quick comeback from Steve. That’s alright. Eddie’s quite happy if this is one of the times Steve just takes the compliment; let’s the word sink in and hopefully, believes them, even if it’s just a little bit. He watches the film and doesn’t read into the silence.

Not even when Steve says, “Eddie?” all soft. Nearly shy sounding. It doesn’t quite register to Eddie’s ears.

“Mm?”

“Eddie.” Steve says again, a little firmer and that catches Eddie’s attention. He turns his head and rests his chin on Steve’s chest, his brows drawn together in silent question.

But the moment he makes eye contact, Steve’s doing that scrunched up face again. Is studying the ceiling instead of facing Eddie. And just like all those weeks ago, his hands clench up tight. Twists up the fabric of Eddie’s sweater in between his fingers and uses it to ground himself.

Last time, he asked for a hug. Considering he’s currently just about squishing Steve beneath his body weight, Eddie can’t fathom what he might be worked up to ask for. Unless he was going to ask for something more than a hug— which, well, just wasn’t going to happen, even if Eddie really wanted it to.

“Can I-” Steve starts. He sucks in a breath, almost like he’s gathering courage. But he’s not, because he’s not about to ask for what Eddie hopes for, he’s not, he’s—

Unless…?

“Can I… have a kiss?” Steve asks, barely audible. The sentence is murmured, soft words that hit Eddie like a gentle kiss in itself — imprinting right onto his heart. Steve Harrington wants a kiss — from him!

“Oh.” Eddie says, in a breathy delightful way. He’s fairly certain the little monkey in his brain is clapping its cymbals at double-speed as the words process; or maybe it’s his heart, which feels like it’s leapt up his throat.

“Oh?” Steve echoes, a smile already playing at the edges of his mouth, because he can see Eddie’s want. Because he knows him.

“Yes.” Eddie says suddenly, with a frantic nod, pushing up closer so their faces are aligned. “Yes, absolutely, you can.” He affirms.

Steve huffs a quiet laugh at the eagerness and then his arm that had been slung around Eddie shifts. It moves up til his hand caresses along the line of Eddie’s jaw, tilting him just how he likes.

Eddie holds his breath. Counts the freckles he can see this close. Tries to feel Steve’s heartbeat through where they’re pressed so closely together; can Steve feel his? Thundering and hurried, beating so hard Eddie thinks he might bruise the inside of his ribs.

Then Steve kisses him. And shit, Steve’s lip are better by ten-fold than every daydream Eddie’s ever had about them. They’re warm and so soft — plush and pressing against his own and Eddie is freezing. Fuck, wait, how does this go again? Right, Eddie’s never… well, kissed anybody before.

Steve pulls back and Eddie screws his eyes up — not ready in the slightest for the disappointment of his own shoddy kissing skills. Fuck, did he really just freeze? Steve — Steve Harrington — asks for a kiss and Eddie decides to stab himself in the back by not figuring out how to fuck to kiss back.

“You call that a kiss?” Steve teases and Eddie’s well aware of the parallel — of the irony of Steve repeating his own words back at him. But he can’t make himself laugh even though it’s funny. Instead, a little groan wiggles out his throat.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, earnest. He forces his eyes opens — he needs to see what’s Steve’s thinking. Where he’s expecting disappointment or perhaps regret, is only patience. Maybe a touch of concern. Eddie continues, despite the humiliation that makes his throat sticky.

“I haven’t- I don’t do this often.” He coughs awkwardly clearing his throat and hoping it hides the next word. “Ever.”

There’s a jump in Steve’s eyebrows, a moment of surprise in his eyes that lets him know he did, indeed, hear that final word. It makes Eddie feel… well, it’s nice that Steve had expected him to have been kissed by now. Even if he hasn’t. He tries to take it as a compliment.

“That’s okay,” Steve assures. Absentmindedly, his thumb rubs soothing along Eddie’s jaw. It makes Eddie shiver, some outrageous amount of joy clawing into every nerve. Steve likes Eddie. He wants to kiss Eddie.

“Do you want to try again?”

Eddie nods before the questions even out of his mouth. Steve smiles, all sunshine. This time when he draws Eddie in, he notices the way Eddie holds his breath — the rigidness in his body.

Steve kisses him again, another short and soft one and then whispers against his lips, “Relax.”

‘Cos isn’t tonight just full of the parallels, Eddie thinks. He listens, tries to focus on how sweet Steve’s kiss is than his panicky heart, forcing out a breath between the kisses. His hands along Steve’s sides find a grip, grounding and good, and by the fourth kiss, he begins to feel a bit melty.

It’s good. It’s really good. Kissing Steve is top 5– nay, the top moment of his life so far. Somehow, it’s made all that much better knowing the build-up behind it. Knowing that Steve knows he isn’t just kissing him for a heat of the moment — that Eddie wants kisses here, kisses before bed, in the morning, on dates. Eddie wants Steve.

And with the way he kisses, Eddie’s pretty sure Steve wants him just as bad.

It doesn’t take long for Steve to reach what Eddie decides is an ultra pretty fuckin’ state; lips swollen from kisses, cheeks flushed, hair a little mussed up. He bets he looks no better. The thought makes him grin, enough they have to break the kiss ‘cos Eddie can’t stop his stupid happy grin ‘cos shit— he actually gets to have this Steve.

“What?” Steve asks, somehow half heart-eyed and half suspicious at the mischief in Eddie’s eyes.

“Can I... have a hickie?”

now with a part three !

#at this point call this the 'can i' series #sweet boys asking each other for things they most certainly would be given <3 #but don't think they will <3 #tried to flip it and make it so even tho eddie is used to touch. the romantic touch? he's got none! that's where he's touch-starved #ALSO EVERYONE'S TAGS WERE SO NICE ON THE LAST ONE #trust i am. not feelin so bad nowadays (me saying this like 4 days later lmao) #but <3 thank u all #gay ppl in my phone.... you know what to do #ruby writes steddie #steve x eddie #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #touch-starved steve harrington #not rlly anymore hehe #does anyone notice that it ends with yet another 'can i?" question? HEHE #yet again stib gets kisses where ruby doesn't but alas <3 dis is way fluffier this time #nearly went the angst route! and went hmmmm naur #ok ok i'll be quiet now

[puppetmaster13u]

 Danny and his haunt are more than a little distressed to find out that Pariah Dark can’t be destroyed and can only be sealed away due to being the Ancient of Darkness. Danny is worried about someone trying to wake him up again, while his friends are more worried about the ghost going after the newborn Ancient of Space again. 

 They scour libraries, search high and low in both the Ghost Zone and the living world for a solution before finally just asking Clockwork. 

 And well, they feel like just a bit of idiots but also elated. 

 Because if Danny can become the new embodiment of space, then what’s to stop them from giving the power of darkness to someone else that’s not Pariah Dark? 

 They make a list of requirements, ask both ghosts and living friends. There’s nothing in their world, no one quite right, but what about other worlds? The realms are supposedly infinite right? So there had to be someone out there. 

 And while it takes a long, long time, they eventually find one when a small bloodied ghost of greens, golds, and reds comes forth shyly, eyes burning with determination. He speaks of heroes and villains- far more than their own world- of a city cloaked in shadow and of a single man trying to help despite it seeming impossible. 

 Who better to become the new Dark besides the dark knight himself after all? 

#Batman Becomes The New Ancient of Darkness Au #Look he's died or nearly done so enough times to be counted liminal at the *least* #yes the ghost is lil Jason shh #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp #danny phantom #batman #dc #dcu #danny fenton #cryptid batman #prompts #ghost jason todd #jason todd #honestly up to the writer on if he stays dead or not #bruce wayne #imagine waking up one day to a green sticky note with multiple writing styles saying ur slated to become the literal embodiment of the dark #so don't be afraid when you get some abilities or something #oh btw here's out number :) #Bruce: #Bruce: ALFREEEED

[sodamnbored]

Nico: Hey. Thank you.

Jason: For what?

Nico: For basically forcing me to be your friend.

Jason: You wanted to be friends with me too. You just didn’t know it.

#nearly done my extremely niche smut. then I can finally write my jasico fluff! #pjo fandom #pjo verse #pjo hoo #jason grace #nico di angelo #heroes of olympus #incorrect heroes of olympus #incorrect jasico quotes #incorrect nico di angelo quotes #incorrect pjo quotes #incorrect percy jackson #incorrect hoo quotes #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo text post #pjo stuff #pjo boys #argo II boys #jasico #jasico bromance #demidorks #demidorks being cute #happy demidorks #nico and jason #dumbasses in love #demidorks in love #thunderworld #the other woman #jason and nico

[feroluce]

For some weird reason, I've always been fascinated by how wildly different Sampo operates in the Underground vs the Overworld.

Sampo is present in both places and even in official sources, he's not really counted as one side or the other- now that the theory has been confirmed in-game, he's generally just lumped in with the Masked Fools.

But there really is a big difference!

Probably the most obvious and well known instance of Sampo's...business practices *cough burglary and fraud COUGH* in the Overworld is from the Belobog Museum event. In it, you don't find out Sampo is the main culprit until near the end, because Pela has to set up a sting just to catch him in the act. And that sting is necessary all because the initial suspect they arrested, Norbert, had pretty much no idea of his partner's identity. Sampo wouldn't even speak to him face-to-face.

And whereas Sampo is normally very pleasant and friendly with the trailblazer...when he thinks he's talking to Norbert here, he straight up says that they are NOT friends. Like he really shuts that shit DOWN.

There's also an Overworld NPC, Chavez, who heads the "Dark Blue Scam Support Group." And he. Really really really does not like Sampo fjkdasjklfdj

Chavez clearly wants Sampo caught, and has literally no positive feelings about him. So. Why call it the Dark Blue Scam? Why not just out him by name? Chavez obviously doesn't give a single shit about Sampo's dignity or privacy. But he never once refers to him as "Sampo," and even the pamphlets he passes out make no mention of it. No one in the entire support group seems to know how to identify him or how to refer to him except by his hair color. If the trailblazer says his name, Chavez reacts as though he's never heard it before.

(I've seen people say this means Sampo Koski is an alias and not his real name? But Ray pointed this out, and honestly I agree; even the Fools call him Sampo, after all. I think it's just that Chavez never knew Sampo's name in the first place, and given his immense distrust, immediately assumes it's an alias.)

And then there's his characters stories, where he proceeds to pull off a heist in the Overworld while in disguise as Brughel Poisson the entire time. Literally his own stories don't mention Sampo's name even once.

So anyway, all this shows that when he's up in the Overworld working cons, Sampo is incredibly slippery and secretive about his identity. The only people who seem to know him are Pela, Serval, and Gepard. He doesn't get close to anyone else, and is even surprisingly unfriendly. Nobody knows his name. No one knows his face. He has zero qualms about backstabbing or double-crossing, and even plans for it in some cases.

Meanwhile, down in the Underground, I'm pretty sure literally the worst thing we hear of him doing is scalping tickets in front of the Fight Club. Which isn't even illegal in a lot of places (although it's certainly a dick move).

In Hook's companion quest, a vagrant miner steals Fersman's equipment and tries to sell it to Sampo. Even before the trailblazer and Hook jump in and out the vagrant as a thief, Sampo hesitates to buy it because it sounds like stolen goods, which he doesn't want any part of.

Even knowing that a geomarrow detector is rare and incredibly valuable in the mines, Sampo makes no attempt to double-cross Hook or profit off of her loss, and even tells her who to go to to get it fixed.

And my favorite example of Sampo in the Underground is the Survival Wisdom adventure mission. In it, Sampo starts up a business with Peak, another miner. And like. In wild contrast to all the cons he pulls above ground, Sampo is actually super nice and helpful here.

Just the same as with Hook's quest, Sampo talks to Peak face-to-face, with no disguises or barriers. When the trailblazer finds them, they're just in the Great Mine, no secretive meeting places. Peak knows Sampo, is familiar with him, and calls him by name. It's not even a con! There's nothing illegal going on; it really is just a business partnership. Peak is more than happy with their deal, he's even pretty enthusiastic about it, because thanks to Sampo he can now make enough money to get by while also accommodating his chronic fatigue.

The only person Sampo lies to in this whole ordeal is the trailblazer, who he manipulates into getting Peak's mining equipment back from the vagrants that stole it in the first place. And when it's done, he rewards them with a legit treasure map.

So when he's working in the Underground, Sampo is MUCH more upright and lawful. Part of this is probably to do with his "business" model- Sampo only takes advantage of the wealthy, and poverty runs rampant in the Underground. When he charges Peak an extra 30% (the same percentage he charges Norbert as a consultation fee in the museum heists- Sampo seems to go by percentage instead of a flat rate, which means his prices are more fair for lower incomes) for carelessly losing their supply, Peak literally starts counting out pocket change.

Dude's working for pennies and good will down there dknsmdmd

And you can twist this into a Robin Hood thing if you want- Sampo IS technically working to feed orphans and heal the sick. He says himself he's more than happy to make up the shortfall between the greedy and the marginalized- I mean he says it in the shadiest way possible, but I doubt the people benefiting from his work really care that he's a slimeball if it means they can survive another day. Even the two heists he pulls in his character stories are literally just him stealing absurd amounts of food.

Personally though I think it is solely because of Natasha, and Sampo is hilariously well-behaved specifically for her, because she keeps him on a short leash JSKZJMSMSKS

#honkai star rail #sampotasha #hsr natasha #sampo koski #hsr sampo #hsr #today's post is brought to you by the letter Y. for the Yaps fdklsajfkd #'for some weird reason' I say only to realize through writing this post that the reason I like it so much is because I think- #-Natasha having Sampo by the short hairs is funny dkxjmskskdmdm #so sampotasha if you want or Sampo & Natasha if you want either or #I love Sampo behaving just for her because she holds a LOT of power in the Underground and he knows she could destroy him if she wanted #she could blacklist his business and run him out of Boulder Town if she really thought she needed to #Natasha exiled her own brother who eventually died in the cold because he was running unethical medical experiments on unknowing civilians #and granted what Sampo does is nowhere NEAR as bad as that but she also probably does not have nearly as much mercy for him dkdjdmkskd #I'd like to think they hold a decent amount of camaraderie for each other though. and maybe even some affection. #they work together like all the time after all. sampo is in the clinic with natasha so much that hook thought he was really sick. #and for as much as he relies on her for business she also relies on him for resources. #it's not really an exaggeration to say a LOT more people would be dead without Sampo constantly smuggling goods across the border. #maybe I should just make a post about their relationship sometime because I do very much love it skzjkskdk

[colorsunlikeanythingseen]

What makes the tragedy of Jason's death so goddamn well written is that it is that there were three loopholes to his death prophecy, but for each of these loopholes to work requires people to be out of character.

The Syble tells Jason that if Jason and Piper went to find the emperor one of them would d__.

The first and most obvious way for Jason not to die is to simply not help Apollo and not go after the emperor. Unfortunately Jason is heroic. Even worse he never shirks his duties. He won't be able to overlook Caligula's crimes and turn away. It's not in his nature.

This book somehow, despite Piper and Jason breaking up, sold me on their relationship. Those two are ride or die for each other even if things are rocky right now. They aren't going to run and leave the other to face the emperor alone. Their friend might die anyway. Also Piper also gave me the impression that she believed they wouldn't actually die just like with Leo's death prophecy and the general lack of permeant death in Heroes of Olympus.

Now the third way Jason could have survived. Turning into a dog. You might be laughing but I am dead serious. Apollo, god of prophecy, brought up this possibility and while he might be grasping at straws this could easily work. Turning into a dog would allow Jason to dodge Caligula's blow, and in the confusion he has a chance to escape. This happening is entirely feasible in the pjo universe. It is extraordinary common for gods in myths to turn people into animals. It is confirmed that the gods are watching. It could happen.

Unfortunately, no god is going to interfere. Hera is on thin ice after the stunts she pulled in Hero's of Olympus, Zeus was throwing lighting bolt at her and not the giants he was so angry at her. I got the impression that it could easily be her thrown to earth not Apollo. Hera can't interfere without risking it all.

The minor gods won't disobey Zeus either even if it means losing a priest.

Zeus on the other hand can interfere he just won't. It would be a politically sound decision to save his son. Jason is the former leader of New Rome and current priest for minor gods. By saving Jason Zeus would regain the support from both demigods and minor gods that he is clearly lacking. The Olympian council would support this, this might help Apollo's quest so Artemis is on board, Hera's support goes without saying, Aphrodite daughter is also on the line here, and I can't think of a god that would oppose this. This isn't beyond Zeus's capabilities. He turned Thalia into a tree in similar circumstances. Blatant favoritism. There is a possibility that he just didn't think about it, but I really doubt it. Not only did Apollo bring up this as a loophole Athena is Zeus's advisor she would tell him it's at least a possibility. Zeus has a lot of flaws being an idiot isn't one of them. If he really wanted to save Jason he could have.

So why wouldn't he? Jason disobeyed Zeus standing up for Apollo when he was punished. Zeus really hates being disobeyed especially when it is a son doing it. He gets very paranoid about it in fact. Jupiter gave Jason to Hera/Juno and their only conversation is Jason questioning his father's decision in the coliseum. They do not have a close relationship. They have the least bonding moments of any godly parent beating even Luke and Hermes. Zeus doesn't care about Jason that much. It's not worth justifying the interference especially when his son is rebellious. His paranoia tends to make Zeus shoot himself in the foot.

Besides it's not like Zeus mourned his son's death or lost anything with his inaction. Hera mourned Jason, not Zeus.

The other thing that made Jason's death iconic is how it's effects are handled but that's another post.

#Did I write this because people keep blaming Apollo for Jason's death when Apollo nearly killed himself trying to stop it? Maybe #The other reason is people not reading Trials of Apollo because Jason died. Come on it's the best written part of the book #pjo #toa #trials of apollo #Apollo pjo #piper mclean #hoo #lester papadopoulos #jason grace #heroes of olympus #zeus pjo #hera pjo

[nuikasa]

I WOULD BE VERY INTRESTED IN YOUR LILY RUIKASA AU!!!

I'm sorry for the delay but this is going to be so long that I wanted to have a proper time to answer properly and perhaps, expand it more than I originally intended!

Tsukasa is a prince in this story and he is forced to marry someone from the next kingdom to get a peaceful truce and end war between them. Of course, he doesn't want to get married with someone he doesn't love but he doesn't have another choice but to give in, for the sake of his family and his beloved kingdom. He has never been in love before and has never for any meaningful relationships besides his childhood friends from the same royalty, often mistook his parent's praises as a form of love when he was only being prepared for when he will finally take the king title.

His perspective about the world changes after he meets Rui by chance, he takes the courage to leave his well builded perfect life and live his own life and no someone's crafted for him to live on.

Rui in the other hand is a wanderer musician that has lived his life the way he always wanted; he has always considered himself a free bird that flew away where the flow leads him to. He lost his parents when he was a teenager and now, and even so, seeing through the worst, he has become in a very gentle soul with time.

his only dream is to be able to performe in front of everyone around the world and bring endless smiles with his music, ceasing the pain and sadness some might feel, the same way he felt when he lost what he considered most precious to him. When he met Tsukasa he felt he needed that too, someone who would be willing to tell him the true about how to live his own life and not feel pity for him about it.

They immediately connect, as if they were meant to be. I think I got a bit overboard with this but I'll leave a small introduction of the au because I'm really so obsessed with them lmao.

The story happens in the medieval era, most likely it revolves around a war between two kingdoms, Shirogane and Kurogane kingdoms respectively. They have been in a very heated dispute over the resources of their lands and military territory; these aren't the only kingdoms to exist but I'll expand on that in another post.

After numerous tries of reaching to a solution for their political issues, they decideed to sign a peace truce between kingdoms by celebrating a marriage between their royalty families to put an end to this endless discourse between them, of course this isn't going to be easy and in the end it won't end up well at all but that isn't the issue at hand for now.

Tsukasa is presented in the story to be the eldest son of the Shirogane kingdom's royalty and the next to become the next king on their land. Of course, the blonde, as much as he loves his family and his kingdom, deep inside he doesn't want to become in the next king and wishes to have a normal life but he has lived all his life to be the perfect son and perfect older brother. He spent his all life fulfilling his parents wishing and taking care of his younger ill sister that he loved very much.

As he grown into a fine young man, he kept filling up that perfect role of the elder son and the day where his fate will be tied to that empty perfect life has arrived, he is asked to assist to a royal ball to meet his future wife that was carefully selected to be his companion for the rest of his life. Tsukasa doesn't like the idea to meet someone he doesn't even know at all and marry them out of love, he always dreamed to find the right person he will fall in love and share their live together; this wasn't nothing he dreamed of and the slight idea made him feel sick but he kept playing his role only to fulfill his parents wishes because he always put others first before his own needs, it's what he was taught to do his whole life.

His father mentioned that they picked someone very uncommon but far talented for the ball to perfomance a violin solo for their entretainment. The only thing Tsukasa was told about this person was that he was a wanderer musician that traveled around the world to performance solo shows with his music and he was very good at it; making his own reputation reach the Shirogane Kingdom for them to pick interest on his perfomance.

Curious, Tsukasa waited for the night to come and to finally see with his own eyes, what this wanderer musician was capable of doing. And it happened right in front of his eyes, while he was sitting next to his father at the throne room; the young man dressed in black with a very peculiar hat with black lilies, presented himself in front of the king by the name of Kamishiro Rui, Tsukasa silently watched him adressing himself in front of the crowd and, once he was sure everyone was attentively watching him, he started to play one of his favorite songs.

Everyone was in awe with the musician, the melody was so beautiful that everyone stopped doing what they were doing just to listen to him. The prince was amazed by the music but not only that, he was also amazed by the way how he moved around as he played that melody, his eyes focused on his dear instrument; as if he wasn't really present there. Once the perfomance ended, everyone clapped loudly, cheered for the marvelous show the young musician pull off and Rui could only make a gesture, bowing his head in front of the king who was very pleased.

Tsukasa was speechless and after everything went back to normal, he wanted to have a chat with the newcommer musician but his father didn't let him, making him meet with who he was going to marry in the following weeks at most. The ball ended after that, Tsukasa felt sad that he didn't have the opportunity to even approach the musician to talk about his show and maybe know more about him; the only thing he knew about him was that he was going to stand a few days and then leave to the next town. The young prince had the bad habit to stay up till very late because he sometimes liked to stare at the stars from his balcony and make a wish, wishes that he knew that wouldn't make true if he didn't do anything about it, but still, he wanted to dream about going outside and find something for himself.

When he suddenly heard a distant melody, a melody he heard before. Curiosity took the best of him and he decided to sneak outside the palace towards where the source of the sound came from. He followed the melody til the huge royal garden that wasn't too far away from where his room was, which was casually at the back of the palace.

That's when he found Rui playing the violin alone in the middle of the night and that's when their story truly begins.

#kamiinagi #Ruikasa #Lily Ruikasa #i nearly DIED writing this down but it was fun #i suppose this count as a semi fanfic content haha #well i do hope you like it tho #i dont have anything drawn besides what i shown before and two pages about their conversation but i had to cut it there because its too muc

[dreamyelectronicmusic]

Simon’s heart is stuck keeping the rhythm of a peppy love song and he doesn’t want it to stop. He thinks about Wille stumbling over his words and giggling awkwardly, the way his voice sounds when he’s smiling, the way he says Simon’s name like it’s a rare treat he wants to savour.

Read chapter four or start from the beginning

#young royals #young royals fic #guys there's so much tension in this chapter I nearly died writing it

[what-the-fic-khr]

I felt such a strong, visceral reaction to this post specifically and had to write something really short and dumb for it literally immediately I’m so serious holy shit. in love with this. I’m gonna cry

character/s: superbi squalo, reader-insert (gender-neutral)

word count: 359

warnings: swearing

prompt: squalo runs colder than most

“It’s too cold! I don’t want to go on this stupid mission!”

Squalo watched you kick up a fuss, quiet as you gathered your stuff. He paid attention to every item you grabbed so he would remember them, so you wouldn’t complain about losing them if you forgot one on your way back.

“I just wanna stay here! It sucks, but it’s indoors at least…!”

“Just hurry up. The faster we leave, the faster this gets done, the faster we get home.”

You grumbled about it the entire way out of the estate, and he let you grouch on your way through. It’d get it out of your system and then you could get to work; you at least knew when to shut up.

You also promptly ignored every dig or mocking remark made at you as you pulled on gloves, a thicker coat, earmuffs. Because of your thick snow boots, the scarf you were wrapping around your neck. They could make fun of you all they liked, but you wanted to stay warm. Fuck ‘em.

Once you’d made enough of a trek away from the estate, pushing through snow with irritation, you eventually slowed to a stop.

“What?”

Squalo stopped next to you, and leant down when you waved at him to. He stayed still, head bowed a touch so you could reach up and slip your (his) earmuffs onto his head. He straightened with a low noise, a grunt of thanks.

“You should start killing people if they’re gonna make fun of you for wearing fucking earmuffs, you know.”

He blinked at you slowly before lifting a leg. You yelled out when he hooked his foot into the back of your knees and you fell, knees hitting the snow.

“You bastard! Give them back and freeze, then!”

Squalo snorted and headed off again, not waiting for you to scramble out of the snow and catch up to him. You didn’t.

He jerked forward after you threw a crudely made snowball at the back of his head, poorly constructed due to your gloves.

“Oi! You stupid bitch; just get up and come on!”

“Bastard! That’s what you get!”

#saw that post nearly died over it sorry. felt inspiration so strong I was winded. omfg #enamoured….. I’m going to headcanon this in every fic I ever write from now on actually #superbi squalo #khr #katekyo hitman reborn #mine #superbi squalo x reader #katekyo hitman reborn imagines #katekyo hitman reborn x reader #khr x reader #khr imagines #ANYWAYS. LOL #you guys get two posts today back to back exciting congrats

[enlichened]

The thing thats consistently bothered me the most in the fallout show is the racism. I would hesitate to recommend it because of that alone. And there was obvious love that the set and prop designers, actors, costume department, and even maybe the writers put into the show! There are themes and characters in fallout that i'm certain would resonate with fans of color!

It KILLS me that so many of the fallout entries are damn well unplayable/watchable in this regard because the writers simply Don't Care how the people in their work are presented. That this like hugely popular world with a lot of worldbuilding and thought behind it does such wrong to so many people, fans and otherwise, that you cannot find any game in the series that does it right or well. It alienates a lot of people who might've been fans just because the majority white creators and fanbase don't give a shit, and I'm sick of it.

it's not enough to say "in the fallout in my head that racism doesn't happen," you actually have to put some things into PRACTICE. Allow space in your head, your games/show, your fan spaces for people of color! notice and say something when you see racism coming from media, yourself, and others!

#like its not AS bad as other fallout media but isnt that the fucking kicker. that its not AS bad #and in fact the games im thinking of that are most egregious in their racism ARE interplay/obsidians games. #bethesda is NOT free from criticism or racism. just look at the elder scrolls. #all of the fallout games have been terrible to different extents to their black characters #the games are TERRIBLY sinophobic. the great war being pinned on china allows for SO much racism in the writing and in fan spaces #but fallout 2 and new vegas specifically have awful and degrading representations of indigenous people. to the point where i wont play 2. #and now this show treating maximus nearly one to one with how star wars writers AND fans treated finn? its not okay #personal / #fallout show #fallout blogging #racism #antiblackness #colonialism #fallout #if not for this i would have thought that the show was GOOD. surprisingly compelling. anti capitalist messaging. but its just. all the time #and this is coming from a white person! i can only listen and imagine how painful it is to play these games or watch the show #and be the butt of the joke every time!!! or the villain or the fool or the one who dies or the nameless entry. #maximus gets to have Some time in the light as a protagonist but for the beginning half of it he's treated SO awfully by the writers #and the latter half does not do enough to make up for it #EDIT: I JUST FINISHED THE SHOW AND THEY FUCKING MADE IT WORSE.... #taking max out and having lucy leave him. for what exactly. why did they have to undermine him and make him look stupid at every opportunit #AND. two of the more major black women being evil capitalists juxtaposed by some white guy who opposes? ......................... #like im glad moldaver was there. i guess. but even she is posed as the villain for the good majority of it and kills innocent people #for no reason and. UGH

[boxboxlewis]

a tag game, a tag game! thank you to the glorious @tackytigerfic for the tag (& check out their list here)

Rules: List the first line of your last 10 posted fics and see if there's a pattern 🧐

🧐 Bono knew what Lewis was going to say before he even started speaking, just from the way he held his body: hands by his sides, open, too casual, face turned away at an angle. 

🧐 The rain is hot, relentless, soaking through George’s race suit and fireproofs, making the track slick and dangerous, sending up a thick cloud of spume behind each car.

🧐 Alex is rolling a condom on, intent on his own dick.

🧐 These days Max is pretty much an expert at only staring at her teammate a socially appropriate amount, but she stops short, now, half-formed words falling back into her mouth.

🧐 “Hello, Doctor,” George says.

🧐 Alex and George: when they're not working or hanging out with friends or at the expensive gym down the road (George) or volunteering to teach underprivileged children to read (Alex, incredibly), they’re in the flat they share, curled up like cats on the sofa George bought from an Instagram ad.

🧐 At 4pm George gets a text from Alex.

🧐 Max’s profile said he loved to cook, so after Daniel shows him around the apartment he takes him back into the kitchen and says, “I don’t know if you, uh?"

🧐 “Congrats, by the way,” Max says.

🧐 On the whole, George is an acceptable addition to the flat, but sometimes Alex does want to lightly defenestrate him.

this was a fun one! i think my pattern is i like long sentences! can't stop won't stop, parenthetical asides i love you, colons i love you, long daisy-chained clauses i love you. tagging @powerful-owl @bighoneyenergy @janinaduszejko @goblinmatriarch @officialmood, if u want to!

#writing #games #i did a writing exercise recently where u could only write sentences of seven words or fewer #and look i do love the occasional short sentence but ONLY short sentences? i nearly died #erin if you see this ilu

[happyk44]

Nico bringing Percy as his "date" to some godly event after Hazel bailed at the last minute and Jason couldn't attend because he's off restoring ancient shrines in deep Peru with Carter and Annabeth. Nico steps away for some space and air and comes back to find Percy at the buffet table surrounded by various love gods. It's almost funny. Percy is fidgeting nervously as he talks. He's very clearly trying not to look at Hathor's chest as she leans in close to him. They all look different, their ideal selves, untouched by Percy's presence.

But as soon as Percy catches sight of him, almost physically brightening up, some of them change. A little shorter, dark shaggy hair, brown eyes. Rati's skin lightens from a deep dark brown to a pale tan. Aglaea's necklace shimmers from a handcrafted dove to a skull.

Nico freezes.

Percy strides quickly up to him. "You okay?" he asks.

As Nico watches them over Percy's shoulder, the gods shift and turn back to their ideal selves. "Yeah," he breathes, finally looking away. "I'm fine."

Percy beams. His fingers jolt across Nico's hand before he quickly stuffs them into his pockets. "Good! That's... good, yeah."

His smile softens, quieting down. Nico doesn't know what to do. Everything feels frozen in this moment. Like the ice sculpture just a few dozen feet away.

Then Nefertem clears his throat. "Nico!" he cheers, like he's just noticed Nico's arrival. "Percy was just telling us about you!"

Red crests across Percy's cheeks. His head ducks a little, eyes scanting away.

Nico takes his wrist between fingertips and pulls him back over to the group. "Not sure what he could tell you about me that you don't already know."

Oshun sips at her goblet. There is nothing but amusement in her eyes, and mischief in her soul. "We didn't know you were secretly an angel."

The red on Percy's face intensifies. A noise rips from the back of his throat, guttural and panicked. He looks near panicked now. His eyes flicker everywhere but Nico's curious face.

Nico swallows thickly around rising emotions. "Oh?"

"It's in your name," Percy protests quickly. "I was- it was a joke!"

"Then you need to work on your delivery," Oshun chides. Her bangles clank together on her wrist. The other gods laugh aloud as they begin to disperse around Nico and Percy. "Because your breathless sigh did not make any of us think that."

Percy looks about ready to combust. Or fistfight Oshun. Or maybe Hedylogus, who's near cackling as he walks away with Siebog.

"What-" Nico licks his lips and Percy sends him a desperate scared look. "What did it make you think?"

Oshun grins wickedly and plucks a croissant from off the table. She steps around the two of them, the last to leave them alone. But she leans in close before she vanishes into the crowd, and whispers, "It made us think he was in love."

#percy getting outed by a bunch of love gods #only fair since Nico's secret got ripped from him #also lmao he wasnt being nearly as subtle as Nico had been 😂 #percico #nico di angelo #percy jackson #percynico #happy talks pjo #my writing #my fanfic

[winterbuckwild]

Steve discovers that not only is Eddie an octopus bed hog, but that if he isn't smashed against a wall when he sleeps he throws this pillow overboard.

And then goes after Steves.

After the fourth time Steve wakes up with his head hitting the mattress as his pillow disappears over the other side of the bed, he vows sets up a pillow barrier between them when they sleep so that he doesn't beat his beloved around the face in the middle of the night.

Eddie is, of course, oblivious.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #my writing #based on a true story #my husband nearly died #multiple times #memory foam mattress ftw

[hjemne]

Babygirl I have 38 thousand words of incomplete trigun fic spread across 8 wips and have no idea how to even start dealing with it

#this is an actual request for help #there are two im happy just to ditch entirely #3 that are p much written in complete sentences but are just AU fragments and i don't think i have the energy to turn into a proper story #ive got 12k complete and edited words for another but then i just cant work out how to get to the story's end #and then the last two are half-written half-drafted and just keep getting longer and longer and i HATE properly write up my drafted notes #just... what do i do #can I put the first three up for fanfic adoption and see if someone else knows what to make of them #if anyone wants to proof read /advise on a modern au where WW realises hes gay breaks up w Milly and falls hard for Vash who then disappears #or a post-trimax fic where knives uses the last of his energy to resurrect WW & WW relearns who he is with melanie livio and the orphan kids #(with vash angst thinking hes hallucinating WW) #or a polygun/vashwood fic where WW tries to hide his injuries & the others realise hes got strange healing bc he nearly dies before the #vial kicks in and WW+Vash then talk about EoM/Knives and it ends in a polygun snuggle pile bc they talk it thru as a crew TM #please let me know #trigun #vashwood #trigun fanfiction

[quillinhand]

nothing quite like the utter joy and pain that comes from watching/reading about pure, sunshine type characters being beat up and the grumpiest little shits being forced into rom-com type fluff. ah. never gets old.

#its the dichotomy for me #fandom #writing #writblr #i love it so much #for example #kim gun woo #from #bloodhounds #utter pain #i nearly died #but like #you have to understand #it's just perfect on such a deep level #and ofc having characters like #severus snape #be forced into doing and feeling the sweetest things #the grumpy shits being beat up/ the sunshine's doing their joyful stuff is fun just #i like to destroy myself #alsooo #good omens

[orcelito]

I think I cried harder today over my dad's jackets than I did at his deathbed. That was a miserable time of course, a memory that will likely be seared into my brain until I die, but I cried... I think a normal amount, all things considered. More than I ever usually do of course, but I typically don't cry At All. All this free crying is certainly surreal.

The jackets, though. I was put in charge of doing his laundry, because we don't want to pack up dirty clothes. I was expecting it to be unpleasant bc my dad's dirty clothes - gross. But really, it was much more unpleasant in that... those were his. It felt wrong to touch them. Felt wrong to treat his jackets as gross. Because they were just his jackets. They weren't even in the hamper. And then I was remembering him wearing them, and then I was crying. Again. And again. Weeping over these damn jackets.

Then I found a shirt on his bed that still smelled like him. It smelled like a Hug From Dad. And that set me off crying even harder.

In total, I think I cried like 6 times within 40 minutes. It took me that long to finish sorting the damn clothes bc I just. Was a wreck. Like, what are you supposed to do when you're living life like normal, vaguely hopeful bc you're taking steps to secure your own happiness, and then 4 days later you're sorting your dad's laundry because he fucking died. Suddenly. Without a goodbye.

And you have to worry about his lack of a will (even under an ideal situation, only 2 heirs and no conflicts between us, probate's a fucking Bitch), and arranging the funeral, and prepping his obituary, and picking out pictures, and writing a speech bc you want to talk at his funeral, of Course you want to talk at his funeral, but even just thinking about anecdotes you could share has you crying yet again.

I've cried more times in the past 3 days than likely the entirety of last YEAR. And that's WITH my cat, and uncle, and family friend dying. Those all hurt, my uncle most of all, & I was real fucked up over it. But this? This was my Dad. Likely the person I'd have named 2nd closest to me in my life, second only to my sister. He wasn't perfect, but he did so much for me throughout my entire life. All he wanted was to raise us to be happy and independent. And he accomplished it, we're getting by without him, but we still wanted several more decades with him. He was only 57. We should've gotten several more decades with him.

But here we are now. Playing investigators to his life, digging into all his shit, trying to find documents and take inventory of all his things, and learning Many things about him in the process. In his lockbox of sensitive documents, like his SSN and birth certificate and all that stuff, we found an old letter. About a decade old now, written in my hand. Right at the very top, we found that he'd kept the letter I wrote to him telling him frankly about my struggles and the things I wanted him to do better. He kept it. He tried to take it to heart. He looked at it again, sometime more recently than all the rest of the documents. That was on top.

His love for us is evident everywhere. The pictures he has hanging up all over the place, majority of them with us in them. The old fathers day cards placed on display in his bedroom bookshelf. The gifts we gave him, even stupid little knick knacks, placed around his apartment with pride. I wish we'd taken more videos of him. I don't want to forget the sound of his voice. I don't want to forget his smell either, the smell of a Hug From Dad, but I still tossed that shirt into the wash even though it felt like saying yet another goodbye.

It's the suddenness that hurts the most, I think. We were planning on having him help me finally get my license this year. My final words to him, the last thing he would've seen from me, were messages asking up on whether he'd called his car insurance company to make sure there wouldn't be problems. I should've called him more. I don't know if I'm going to learn from this.

I cut my 2 weeks off early to have time to grieve and to work on things for the funeral and settling the estate. The last thing I'd wanna do right now is selling fucking bubble tea in a job I already decided to leave. So here I am without a job, though with potentially two life insurance policy payouts to come. Inheriting half his 401k. Inheriting couches, knickknacks, keepsakes, paintings, art pieces, maybe even his guitar and other furniture if we can figure out what to do about space (I don't have room for this furniture, I don't know if I even have room for the couches, but God do I want to keep so much of this furniture). It has me even considering keeping one of his guns, just one. A tiny little revolver, it sits so comfortably in my hand. I don't even want to use it for anything. I just want to have it, keep it stored in a drawer with its ammo kept separate. I don't like guns, but this is a part of him. He loved collecting guns. He was about as responsible with them as someone can be, keeping them locked in a lockbox and impressing upon his children the importance of gun safety (I've known the basic gun safety rules ever since I was a little kid. Of course, of course, of course.) It reminds me of him. It's horrifically easy to have a gun in Indiana. I apparently don't even need a permit to carry anymore. (I have no intention to ever carry this in public.)

It's all a cycle. Business, grief, thoughts about my future. Round and round, like the most nauseating carousel in existence. I don't know how I'm still so functional. My skills with compartmentalization have been my lifesaver.

And im just thinking about the story my dad's best friend shared today. About a friend of theirs who lost her father. She reached out after hearing about my dad to share his words with her: "it's okay to grieve, but don't make his death your life".

He explicitly referenced himself in this, saying if he were to die suddenly that he wouldn't want us to define ourselves by it. Grief is expected, but he wants us to be able to move on. He's always wanted us to establish ourselves and make ourselves happy. He wouldn't want to be a weight holding us back from that.

So every time I start to feel guilty for thinking about having nicer furniture or using his life insurance payout to fund the rest of my college, I remind myself of that. Thinking about the material isn't a bad thing. I'm only human. And in the end, he'd Want me to be thinking about it. He never intended to die, certainly not without warning like this, so he would've only encouraged me being pragmatic about it all.

He only ever wanted us to be happy. So I need to do what I can to live up to that.

I love him. I miss him already.

#speculation nation #negative/ #this got really long on accident. but i think typing this out was really helpful for me. #getting the thoughts out. processing. the works. #nearly cried several times just from writing this. #...and honestly i might reference this again when i start seriously writing my eulogy. #things suck a Lot right now. and i really wish they were different. #feels like i picked a bad choice in a video game and am now seeing the Bad Ending or whatever #all i need to do is reload a previous save. it's all still there. perfectly preserved in my memories. #but... that's all gone. as suddenly and unfair as it is ive been thrust into a new chapter of my life so thoroughly. #it's not all bad though. he wasnt prepared for dying so it's been hell to prepare for him #we dont know if we'll even be able to get into his fucking iphone. stupid piece of shit. #but he had life insurance. he had a union job. and That comes with benefits #(something about a year's salary going to the family. aka half a year's salary to Me. and isnt That mind boggling.) #as much as it hurts im going to be realistic about it. im going to do what i need to finish my education. #and im going to use it as a springboard for finally becoming a 'proper adult'. #the kind who could own a nice kitchen fridge. one with an ice machine on the front of the door #and freezers in the drawers. #maybe then i could think about getting motorcyle lessons. not from my dad as i originally wanted #but i wanna keep the family biker spirit alive. i wanted it even before he died. and now i want it even more. #ive had so so many thoughts. it's only been 3 days. ive had to emotionally numb myself several times just to Get Through It. #everything is exacerbated. my mom wants to go to the funeral. we will have to fight her on this. my dad Hated her. #and i certainly dont fucking want her around either. not then. not when im talking about my dad. #(my dad. my Dad. i saw him die. i felt him cold. i do not regret it. it still hurts me.) #it's overwhelming. i loved him so fucking much. even with his flaws he was truly an amazing father. #i'll... shut up now. if you read this far. well. hug your loved ones a little tighter. you never know when youll lose them.