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#pls lmk to tag
nguyenfinity · 10 months
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In 2018, I made Fight Kiddo as a way to vent frustration with some stuff, but I didn't know what to name her 'cause I didn't really wanna call her Fight Kiddo the entire time. I ended up naming her after my grandma, an incredibly kind and loving lady who would not put up with people's bs.
She passed away year ago today (or. a year and a day ago today because tumblr formatting decided to be difficult, sorry) and like. When I say my 2022 sucked I mean like I caught covid the day before she passed away so for me it was just. Yeah it sure was a summer. It was a rough time to say the least but kept the fight goin huh?
I wanted to bring Fight Kiddo back to honor her namesake in a way, and though I can't do much else now besides draw this for her, I do thank you so much for reading along <3
Con vẽ cái này cho bà ngoại, con nhớ ngoại nhiều mà con mong ngoại thích nhe.
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kelddaa · 1 month
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tw // blood
I couldn’t win it for you, buddy
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mirrorhouse · 2 months
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GALE DEKARIOS 🔮
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eurodynamic · 7 months
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#blah blah blah CYBERPUNK 2077: PHANTOM LIBERTY (2023) dev. CD Projekt Red
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firstfandomfangirl · 10 months
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made a thing to help convince my friends and family to join me in the LMK hole EDIT: If you're convinced by this and are wondering where to watch it, DM me, I have my ways ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
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macaroonkitti · 9 months
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Listen sworn uncle Wukong (and Macaque) is still the best thing to me
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housewifebuck · 11 months
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911 + memes 4/?
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tojisun · 4 months
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https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8aRe9ag/
biker!simon sending you this…
IM CRYING AT HIS SCREAM HELLO no because whys this kinda cute and funny to imagine dhfbwhbf 😭
biker!simon mlist // star divider by @/plutism <33
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just. imagine looking out of the window, frowning in worry at seeing the snow gathering strength – unstoppable in the momentum, blanketing the streets with fluff. any other day you would've grabbed your jacket and slid into your boots to go outside, or perhaps melt into the soft cushions of the couch with a soft music playing in the background until you are reduced to this moment – soaking in the tenderness that comes with winter; a certain nostalgia that waxes and wanes.
but.
simon's still not back, and his only ride home is his bike. he was the one in charge of closing up the shop tonight, and you're certain that he's working alone late today – john's out of the country for a vacation, johnny called in sick, and kyle's visiting his parents – so it's not like someone can drop him off.
(although you know that if johnny or, god forbid, kyle were with simon, they would've brought their bikes too. bunch of hopeless fools, the lot of them.)
you nibble on your bottom lip, playing with it in worry, before snagging your phone from the table to shoot simon a message. you pray that he's not on the road yet.
but before you could type up anything, you receive a message from simon. it's just a little five second video, with a tag-along caption that reads, "i fell."
your heart lurches into your throat, lodging there as worry creeps up and engulfs you. you play the video, not realizing just how hard you are biting on your bottom lip until you had to gasp, blood beginning to rush back into the muscle. still, you ignore the muted throbbing, busy cataloguing simon in his video.
he's staring up at the camera, eyes furrowed, and you're sure he even got his lips pinched in disdain under his balaclava. you note how he's no longer wearing his helmet, and that feeds your rising worries even more. he shows you the snow-filled streets right after, then he pans towards his bike, showing you how the little thing is tipped over and crusted with melting snow.
the video cuts out just at the apex of simon's scream.
the apartment is filled with stagnant silence, not even your heaving breaths could puncture through, before a snort scratches at your throat, the sound creeping up unconsciously.
holy fuck.
you replay the video again just to hear the inhumane screeching at the end, giggling to yourself, before finally replying to him, "send your location pls. gon pick u up."
simon responds instantly, sending you his location – a stretch that's only ten minutes away from the shop – and adds, "my hero."
you send a kissy-sticker. simon sends you the thumbs up emoji and follows it up with the snowman emoji.
what a dork, you think with fond huff.
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this aint much n im so sorry its too short :< // taggin: @babygirl-riley @teehee-47 @comeonatmebruh <33
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flowercrowngods · 2 months
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something so monstrous pt.2
(in which kas feeds from steve and triggers a bad migraine pt.2)
🤍🌷 read part 1 here this part gets really intense on the migraine. descriptions of immense pain, fever dreams, and vomiting, some body horror imagery bc pain can be fun like that
Time and space lose all meaning as Steve remains on the precipice of something that is too violent to be called sleep, but not harsh enough yet to be unconsciousness. Real sensations evade him as everything turns into pain immediately. Even the twitch of his finger becomes a thundering blaze of blinding pain shooting through his body and settling behind his eye until he is sure he will wake up blind. 
The fear of that is everpresent, the blind spots too real to ignore every time it goes like this, and he imagines how they will grow. He imagines how they get worse every time until one day the pain inside his skull will be so immense it will take his eyesight in exchange for alleviation.
And even though it is unbearable, he opens his eyes whenever he can, just to make sure he can see still. It’s an added veil of terror that covers him whole and consumes him slowly but continually. 
At some point he notices something cold and wet being placed over his eyes, adding another layer of darkness that is welcome, even if it leaves an imprint of pressure and sensation on his forehead that makes his skin tear around it, his skull cracking and caving in beneath the touch. 
And still it helps a little, pulling him further toward consciousness but not further toward the pain itself. But Steve can only whimper weakly in response, six feet under a thick cloud of cotton-filled smog that even turns breathing into a chore, polluting his lungs with fear and horror and agony without compare.
He does fall into a fitful sleep at some point, grateful for the short reprieve, but it does nothing to alleviate his exhaustion. 
It feels like his eyeballs are being pushed into his skull for what must be hours upon hours, and the pain is so unbearable, so horrible, that he's not at all surprised when nausea rises in his chest, his body responding to its current state with confusion and a hard-reset. 
Steve keens, trying to roll onto his side, groaning at the flares of pain shooting up into his skull and down into his limbs. They only worsen the nausea and it's pure instinct that gives him the strength to sit up. 
"Kas?” he whispers, swallowing thickly against another wave. "Bathroom?” 
Instead of giving him directions or pulling him up to drag him there, Kas wastes no time. He gets up off the floor, approaching him with shuffling steps once more, and gently but quickly lifts Steve off the bed in a hold — firm, yet gentle — that brings another sting of tears to Steve's eyes. Pain and vulnerability and the need for everything to be over. That’s what makes him cry.
Still he manages to hold on, his head rolling onto Kas's shoulder, the skin of his neck blissfully cool against Steve’s overheated forehead pressing into him. 
Make it stop, he thinks. Longs. Aches. It’s supposed to be over. It’s all supposed to be over now. 
He whimpers again, and imagines that Kas is the one to softly shush him this time.
The coolness of Kas's neck is gone all too soon as the vampire sets Steve on the hard, uncomfortable bathroom floor. He doesn't go far, though, crouching down beside him and holding him up over the toilet. Steve can't see anything, but still he’s grateful that Kas left the lights off, the bathroom tinged in the same darkness as his bedroom. 
Pathetically, Steve rests his forehead on the toilet seat, chasing the coldness of it as pain and nausea reach their peak. It’s disgusting, but be’s not strong enough to care. A whine breaks from him, and he wishes Kas would leave. Even though the cold hand on his neck feels good, and even though he knows he wouldn't be able to hold himself up right now. 
I'm not weak, he wants to say. And maybe he does. But he can't recognise his own voice right now. 
"Not weak, maybe, but pathetic." 
No. 
"You know you are." 
Shut up. Go away. 
It doesn't make sense for Mr Munson to suddenly be here with them, to stand in the doorway and watch his nephew, who is more monster than human these days, holding up the pathetic form of Steve, who is more pain than human. More smoke than human. More vulnerable weakness than remotely human.
Go away. Eddie? I want him to go away. Tell— Go ‘way. 
The hand wanders, pulling Steve against cool skin again so his forehead rests against the toilet no longer, basking in the cold touch and the warmth of a body to hold him. 
"Safe," Kas says, and Steve wants to badly to believe him. Wants Wayne to leave, wants everyone to leave and just let him suffer in silence and solitude like always. 
Wayne starts talking again, but Steve can't hear him this time as he suddenly heaves and retches, throwing up what little he had to eat today. Over and over and over.
It goes like this for a long time. He has no idea how long. Has no idea where he even is anymore. 
The world tilts a few times when he loses his grip, his arms buckling, his hands spasming and giving out, and still he never falls. Only ever feels the cold, damp skin of Kas’s neck. 
Kas has to carry him to bed when he's done and on the brink of passing out again, and Steve doesn’t mind this time. Kas also hands him a glass of water or two before pushing him back to lie down again. That’s nice. 
The wet cloth returns, and Steve isn't aware of his surroundings for much more after that.
—— 
The next time Steve comes to, he feels like he was freshly dragged through Lover’s Lake until his lungs gave out. His head is pulsing violently, his senses are sluggish and everything feels foggy. He has no idea where he is, the room pitch black around him as he lifts a lukewarm damp cloth from his eyes. 
A soft groan falls from his lips as he stretches his aching, cramped limbs, rubbing his hands over his face and regaining the feeling in his body. Little pinpricks of phantom pain shoot through him, his mouth tastes like ash and his head protests rather violently against his pathetic attempt at sitting up. 
He is disoriented and something about his vision is still messed up, something in the depths of the room not quite right and leaving him with a dizziness he can’t quite shake, followed by a wave of anxiety that something’s wrong with his eyes. 
He blinks. Blinks again, finding more things in the strange room as he does, his sluggish brain slowly catching up and filling in the blanks.
It all comes back to him like a tidal wave when he suddenly finds himself blinking at a pair of red eyes, softly glowing and wide open. 
“Kas,” he croaks, his throat absolutely parched. 
One second he’s wincing at that, the next he finds a cool glass of water pressed into his hands before the eyes and the shadowy form they belong to retreat to the foot of the bed again. 
 “Thanks,” he murmurs, stalling as he takes a sip. Embarrassment rises in him, but he doesn’t want to apologise. The thought of that somehow makes the vulnerability that much worse, so he tries to ignore it. It’ll all be fine if they simply not acknowledge it. 
He wants to ask for the time instead, wants to know how much the migraine took from him this time, but he knows Kas doesn’t really understand the concept of it all, let alone know the numbers. 
A silence settles between them and it’s somewhere between welcome and uncomfortable. Just like everything that happens in Hawkins. It makes Steve feel like a ghost again, but this time he’s a ghost in the room, not just in his own head. He’s the one who’s out of place.
With a little sigh, he places the glass on the makeshift nightstand again and falls over onto his side. His head is mad at him for it, still feeling too fragile for sudden movements, but lying down feels better than sitting.
There’s a huff from Kas that sounds more amused than derisive, so Steve looks at him. Looks at the shimmer in those eyes before closing his own again, not wanting to be looked at right now. Not wanting to face it.
“You,” Kas says then, his voice quiet and without the edge of that animalistic growl. The sound of someone who’s not meant to speak at all. The souvenir of someone who was human once before Evil grabbed him and modified him to His liking. 
“Me,” Steve says, an automatic response, just as quiet. He’s listening. 
“How… How are…” Kas struggles, huffing in frustration at the words that refuse to come, but still it’s the most coherent Steve has ever heard him. It makes him sit up half way again; leaning his weight on one arm to focus all his foggy and cloudy attention on the vampire trying to ask him how he is feeling. 
No more words come, though, the question half finished in the air between them. But somehow it makes Steve smile. Just a little bit. This feels important. And huge.
“My head hurts,” he answers truthfully, amused when Kas’s eyes snap back to his. To search them. To communicate something.
“Hurts?” 
“Yeah. It will, for a while. Always does. Nothing to do about it, really.” He wishes he felt as indifferent to it as he sounds, but that’s just the tiredness clouding his tone. It’s fast approaching now that he knows he’s relatively safe. Now that he knows he can rest. His arm gives out and he slides, slowly this time, back to lie on the pillow. “But it’s not as bad. And the other pain is gone, so…” 
So. He could go home now. He should, probably. Ignoring the weakness in his bones and the exhaustion in his every fiber. If he closed his eyes again right now, he could fall asleep. Still, maybe he should—
“Stay,” Kas says again, and Steve really should have figured. He’s not quite well enough to really fight him on that, though, so he shrugs. 
“Fine,” he mumbles into the pillow, halfway back to slumberland already. 
There’s movement on the foot of the bed, and before he knows it Kas has tucked him in again, draped across the pillows as he is. It’s still unreal, that, but Steve won’t complain. What’s even more unreal, though, is the image Steve gets of Kas curling up by the foot of the bed in a similar position. As if he still means to keep watch. 
It’s ridiculous. A little weird. And sort of endearing.
——
The next time Steve wakes, everything around him is a little brighter, daylight fighting weakly to fill the room, but it stands no chance against the large wooden planks and thick curtains meant to block it out permanently. 
He blinks away the heaviness, taking stock of his body. There is a crick in his neck and burgeoning cramps in his side and hip from the position he’s still in, and this head still is a pulsing, aching mess — but no more than usual. 
He taps the pads of his fingers to his thumb before flexing his hands. Only then does he stretch the rest of his body and announce his wakefulness. 
Opposite him, at the foot of the bed, Kas is already awake and still in the same position that Steve saw him last. Did he even sleep? Does he need that? Or has he just been staring at Steve, watching him, ready to carry him to the bathroom again for round two. 
The thought of that makes his skin crawl.
“Hi,” he says to fill the silence that is all too inviting for his spiralling mind.
Kas grunts, but it sounds more like a hum. Sort of gentle around the edges. He doesn’t move, doesn’t seem at all fazed that they’re just kind of staring at each other. Steve swallows, not really sure how to go from here.
He fists the blanket and rubs the linen bedding between his fingers, feels the rough fabric catching on the callouses along his hands as uncomfortable seconds tick by. Still Kas doesn’t move. 
“Listen, man,” Steve says at last, thinking back to yesterday’s events and the vampire’s sudden care. “Thanks, alright? What you did, that was, uh. That was nice. You didn’t have to do any of that.” 
Another hum, and it occurs to Steve that Kas is back in his normal state, retreated back into his mind, hiding from the world himself now that it no longer needs him. It’s a strange thought, that Steve being hurt would be what brings him back. If at all. Maybe he’s reading it all wrong. Maybe it as just a coincidence, or maybe Kas tasted something in his blood that made him want to improve Steve’s physical state for selfish purposes. That’s probably more likely.
But it makes him feel even more wrong-footed than before, and it leaves him hyper-aware of the situation. Of their dynamic. Indifference and annoyance and… He doesn’t want it to change, doesn’t want some kind of debt between himself and Kas — especially not when Kas has no means to really settle it. But he also can’t feign some kind of gratitude when what he feels the most is mortification and embarrassment; and he sure as hell doesn’t want Kas to know that either. 
So he throws back the blanket and gets out of the bed, a little dizzy at first, but he doesn’t care as he slips into his shoes and hurries out of the room. 
He just wants to leave. Get out of here and go home, go back to bed and get over the mortification of having been seen like this. Of having been taken care of. By someone who doesn’t even like him. By someone who hissed and snapped at him one moment and then carried him to the bathroom the next. 
“It looks like there’s nothing human left in him, but we do have data that suggest otherwise.” Owens’s words echo through his mind as he crosses the living room. “It seems to be in hiding, the Munson part of him; that’s our hope at least. That you can get him back out one day, make him win over the vampire part. It could be like a self defence mechanism, I guess. We hope he can still be coaxed back into the land of the living. How, though, we don’t know.”
Was this what happened? Has Steve’s weakness triggered the human part of Kas’s tortured brain to take over? No, that can’t be. 
It seems unreal. Unlikely. Wayne telling him stories or Dustin talking about their campaign, that should have helped. Even Mike playing the guitar, or Robin rambling about something or other; all of that was much more close to who Munson was. Or used to be. Eddie Munson never struck Steve as someone who took care of people naturally. Someone who stepped in. He stepped up, sure, but only ever for the wrong reasons. 
It makes no sense. So it must be wrong; just Steve’s exhausted brain grasping at straws. It usually does that, anyway. Nobody knows if Eddie is even still in there. Part of Steve hopes he’s not. 
Just as he reaches for the front door, ready to just get out of here and pretend like nothing happened, he feels a presence behind him. Kas followed him out of the bedroom, standing in the doorway now with an unreadable expression. It's the blank one he usually takes on, but where before it was normal, it throws Steve off now. Maybe because he saw how Kas can look at him. How expressive his eyes can get.
He holds them, the red shimmer a little dimmer out here in the brighter living room. 
And maybe it's the blankness in those eyes, or the lack of judgment in Kas's every action, but whatever it is, it makes Steve let go of the door and turn to face Kas properly. 
"Why'd you do it?"
The vampire inclines his head. Listening. Always listening. Steve doesn't know how he never noticed that. It seemed so primitive before. Like how a dog will react to its owner speaking, but never process the words. Kas processes, though. So Steve keeps going.
"Why'd you... You kept saying that word. Safe. Do you, uh. Do you know what it means?" 
Slowly, his eyes growing a little less blank, Kas nods. 
Steve looks around the cabin, swallowing thickly, still feeling so out of place in here, still feeling the need to run and leave it far behind. But something makes him stay. Makes him want to understand. 
"You wanted me to feel safe?" Again, Kas nods. "Why?" 
There is hesitation there, and Steve wonders if it's because he doesn't want to tell him, if he doesn't know the answer, or if he doesn't know how to answer. It's a loaded question, maybe. 
"Pain," he says at last, his voice barely discernible from a growl, but somehow Steve seems attuned to it now. Maybe because he listens now. Because he wants to know. To understand. 
He waits, watching as Kas struggles for more words once more. Just like last night. 
"Know... Know... pain. Know.” He taps his temple with a clawed hand, and Steve's heart falls, his chest aching with realisation. 
Right. He would. He would know pain like that. If what the doc says is right, if what Vecna taunted them with is right, if every working theory the kids have is right, then… yeah. Kas would know. He’s know something about pain. More than any of them. Pain so intense it splits you apart from yourself. 
"Shit," Steve whispers more to himself than to the room, crossing his arms in front of his chest to hug himself and keep from digging deeper, keep his heart from falling further, and keep the horror at bay. 
He doesn't want to imagine the kind of torture Kas went through. Is still going through, if what the doctors say has even more truth to it. If Munson is still in there, still suffering because human minds have a way of holding on to pain — Steve knows soemthing about that, too. 
"I'm sorry," he offers. It's all he can offer. In the end, it’s all that’s left.
And still it's so lame. It's not enough. 
But Kas just nods again, a pained shadow of a smile appearing on his face. Something transpires between them in that moment, Steve can feel it, but he can't really define it. Maybe some kind of understanding. Some kind of safety. 
"I gotta..." he starts, motioning to the door behind him. "I gotta go. Will you be fine? Did you have enough, y'know, to drink?" 
Another nod, and the smile widens a little. Looks a little less pained this time. 
"Good," Steve says, stuffing his hands into his pockets, lifting his shoulders to his ears, trying and failing to seem casual in the face of those glowing eyes. "I’ll– I'll see you around, yeah?" 
And then he's out the door, his head spinning and aching, his steps heavy with the weight of whatever has changed between him and Kas in the past twenty-four hours. 
... sooo. part 3 anyone?
🤍 permanent tag list gang: @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @stobin-cryptid @hotluncheddie @gutterflower77 @auroraplume @steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important @stevesjockstrap @brainvines @puppy-steve @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 @madigoround @pukner @i-amthepizzaman @swimmingbirdrunningrock @hammity-hammer @stevesbipanic @bitchysunflower @estrellami-1 @finntheehumaneater @goodolefashionedloverboi (lmk if you want on or off, for this story or permanently) 🤍 tagging for this work only: @forestnymph-666 @little-trash-ghost @jupitersgonemissing
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ninzied · 3 months
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and patience, and pining
in which alex is determined to flirt so hard that henry can no longer resist him. a modern au. based on the prompt: surprise kiss/impulsive kiss. ~1.8k.
Between the two of them, Alex has always thought he’d be the one to cave first.
They’ve both arrived at the same time. Henry looks stupid-good in his well-fitted tuxedo. His hair is just over-styled enough that Alex wants to mess it up, and badly.
How one man can be so like this is frankly upsetting. No, scratch that; it’s illegal, is what it is. Criminal law is not Alex’s domain, but he’s pretty sure being this tempting in public is a certifiable offense.
“Alex,” says Henry, and he blinks, at least some sense returning to him.
“Right,” he says. “Shall we?”
Henry gives him a look like he’d rather be anywhere else on the planet, which, the reception is not even open bar, so Alex can’t say he disagrees.
“After you, Your Majesty,” he says, stepping from the door with a flourish, then, “I saw that.”
“Saw what?” asks Henry, already shouldering past him with his chin turned up.
“If I had a dollar for every time you rolled your eyes at me—”
“Good taste still can’t be bought, Alex.”
“That’s ironic,” Alex shoots back, smiling and nodding at one of the guests as they enter. “Considering my tie is way better than yours.”
Henry lifts his hand at another in greeting, and even his wave looks fucking majestic, the asshole. “I trust you’ll be at least somewhat behaved this evening?”
“You sure that’s what you want, sweetheart?”
Henry’s expression turns very dour, and Alex wonders, not for the first time, why that particular look on him makes Alex so crazy. The more severe Henry gets, the wilder Alex’s impulse to kiss him, and the urge to just give in.
Alex licks his lips.
Henry takes a cautionary step back. “Let’s do try to make it through the rest of the night without much carnage, yes?”
“I don’t know,” Alex muses. “When you threaten me with a good time like that…”
Henry mutters something under his breath and Alex can’t help but grin. Maybe the night holds some promise after all.
.
He decides he’s going to have to walk that back after a while.
The music is decent, and he was wrong about the open bar, thank God, but he’s barely seen Henry since some crusty-looking Wall Street types whisked him and Pez away to talk business, and Alex is bored.
He wants to dance. He wants to dance—with Henry. And because that’s not going to happen, Alex wants to do the next best thing, which is to dance while Henry pretends not to watch, but he’s not even facing the dance floor right now so there would be no fucking point. He’ll have to think of something else. Hmmm.
Nora shimmies up to him then with two new flutes of champagne. Bless. “Still pining?” she asks.
Alex whips around to glare at her, wounded. “What? Nora, no,” he says. Is it that obvious? Fuck.
Nora shrugs. “You do the thing where you look him when you think he won’t notice. Both of you. You guys kind of have it down to a science.”
Alex brightens immediately. “You’ve seen him looking at me?”
Nora sips her champagne. “Right now, for example.”
Henry looks quickly away when Alex glances over, which is as good an invitation as any in his book. One of the suits is talking at Henry, who seems about as engaged as a teapot right now. Pez has dialed up the charisma, distracting them easily from Henry’s silence. But to Alex, Henry looks downright miserable in comparison.
Well, Alex is here to do something about that.
He plucks the second flute from Nora’s hand. “You’re the best. Gotta go.”
She raises an eyebrow. “I thought you weren’t pining?”
“For that guy?” Alex gazes at Henry again, then says, quite honestly, “Always.”
.
It takes exactly two minutes for the Wall Street guys to politely excuse themselves. Alex watches them practically dissolve their way into the crowd, like a creepy bunch of Mr. Smiths from The Matrix, and he suppresses a shudder.
The look on Henry’s face is an appealing combination of annoyed and relieved. “Let me guess,” Alex deadpans, “you’re so grateful you could just kiss me right now.”
Henry’s expression turns distinctly disapproving as Pez chimes in, “Be patient and Hazza might even learn to admit it someday.”
“That’s what I’m hoping.” Alex grins sideways at Henry, who’s flushing the loveliest pink despite also frowning. “You’re welcome for rescuing you from the most tedious conversation known to man, by the way.”
“Actually, darling dearest,” Pez says lightly, “we were speaking with potential investors in the foundation.”
Oh. Shit. “Do you want me to charm them back over?” Alex wants to know, jerking a thumb in the direction they’d gone. “It is well within my power.”
“Not necessary.” Henry pulls a face. “I would’ve felt dirty about taking their money.”
“I would’ve felt wonderfully about it,” says Pez. “But now that you’ve freed up my dance card…” He cranes his neck around.
“Nora’s over there,” Alex says helpfully.
“Brilliant.” Pez’s eyes are the definition of sparkling. “Ah, and I see your sister’s about to join her. If you boys will excuse me—”
He helps himself to the rest of Alex’s champagne before sashaying off.
The two of them remain standing there a careful few feet apart, not looking at each other. Not that it matters; Alex is so hyperaware of him that he could reach over without even looking and take Henry’s hand if he wanted to. He won’t, but he wants to.
Knowing that he can is enough for now.
Henry looks askance at him after a moment. “You’re making this very hard, you know.”
Alex somehow manages not to smile at that. “Am I?”
Henry’s face screws up in faux concentration. “Let’s see. You’ve been a merciless flirt, even more so than usual. You wore the tie I bought you, which means you don’t hate it—”
“What? I love it,” interrupts Alex, just to be clear.
“—and you just drove off a very lucrative, albeit morally questionable, investment opportunity.” Henry’s also holding back a smile. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to not kiss you for that alone.”
“You still could,” Alex points out.
“And lose your silly bet?” Henry straightens, adjusting his cufflinks, and that might be the single hottest thing Alex has ever seen. “I think not. We both know you’ll be the first to give in.”
It’s true, Alex thinks; he’s pretty irresistible, but Henry is also far more controlled. Still, there’s a certain satisfaction in knowing that Alex gets to be the one who stretches him to his very limit. The level of restraint it takes Henry to resist him is a pretty big turn-on, if he’s being honest. Even when Henry wins, it will be no great loss on Alex’s part.
“Considering what’s at stake here,” Alex says lowly, leaning in just enough to catch the way Henry’s eyes darken, “I think I win either way.”
Henry does smile then, soft and warm and way too tempting not to kiss, though Alex perseveres. “I think we both do, darling.”
“That we can agree on,” says Alex. “So, do you want to…not…dance with me?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
.
He slips up, once.
It’s in a goddamn photo booth of all things, and Alex would feel like such a cliché if he weren’t so busy feeling annoyed at the fact that he can’t hold Henry’s hand or kiss him in front of the camera. Instead, he lets Nora and June wedge in between them, grinning gamely when they take turns kissing Henry on the cheek.
At the literal last second before the flash is going off, Alex feels Henry take his hand from behind, lace their fingers ever so gently together, and squeeze.
In the photo that prints out, June and Nora are doubled over in laughter, eyes closed, unaware. Henry has his chin tipped up, his face doing some smoldery thing at the camera, and Alex is turned, simply gazing at him.
He takes it before anyone sees, tucking it safely into his wallet because bet or no bet, some things really are too sacred to share.
When he shows it to Henry later, Henry gets the same lovestruck look on his face as Alex does in the photo, and that’s all he needs.
.
It’s the cake that finally does it.
Pez, Nora and June are all crowded around the same piece, and it makes Alex sigh a little wistfully to think about how much better it would taste if he were sharing his with Henry.
He can’t help it. He peers at Henry’s own slice, squinting. “What flavor is that one?”
“Strawberry,” says Henry. There’s a crumb on his lip, and Alex doesn’t mean to fixate on it, but he’s now gone hours without kissing his boyfriend and he’s kind of mad about it even though it’s also kind of his fault. “Do you want a bite?”
Oh. Yeah, that’ll work. Alex can feel the others’ eyes on them as he leans closer, fully expecting that Henry will yield to his instincts and feed him a piece off his fork. It’s not a kiss, but it could definitely qualify as losing the bet. And then once Alex has won, he can not only kiss Henry as much as he likes, he gets to take Henry home with him and—well.
He frowns when Henry only holds the plate out. “Here, have some,” says Henry, gaze lifting to his, then just a bit lower. “Oh. Hang on, you’ve got a—”
In a move that’s beyond Alex’s wildest dreams, Henry cups his jaw and kisses the side of his mouth, with just the slightest bit of tongue.
Alex grins as Henry freezes against him, realizing his mistake too late. “Thanks, baby.”
“Bollocks,” says Henry. He pulls back and sighs, licking the rest of the buttercream from his lips. “I’ve lost, haven’t I.” Then, accusingly, “You did that on purpose, didn’t you.”
“I’d say I don’t kiss and tell, but.” Alex puts his hands on Henry’s thighs, using that grip to scoot their chairs closer together. “I am gonna kiss you now, so.”
“You’ll be getting to do a lot more than that,” Henry points out.
“Ew, did not need to hear that part,” June groans at the same time that Pez puts down their cake and says, “Please, I need to hear more.”
“There’s a legally binding document and everything,” says Alex, to Henry’s chagrin and Pez’s delight. “Drafted it up myself.”
“You two were pining that hard and you were already together?” Nora wants to know. “Actually, that tracks. Carry on.”
Henry has gone as pink as the cake now, but he’s smiling when Alex swipes up some more buttercream, touching it to Henry’s mouth before leaning the rest of the way in.
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thelilylav · 1 month
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He ain't heavy, he's my brother.
(He Ain't Heavy He's My Brother, The Hollies)
My art, The World at Its Beginning (Dustin Pearson), The Tyrant's Tomb (Rick Riordan), The Fall of the House of Usher (Steven Berkoff), The Tower of Nero (Rick Riordan), Leto and her Children (William Henry Rinehart), The Moon Had No Light of its Own (Imaginary Future), My Love Mine All Mine (Mitski), Untitled (Lyra Wren), The Tyrant's Tomb (Rick Riordan), Electra (Sophocles), To Forgive (The Smashing Pumpkins), Unknown, The Tower of Nero (Rick Riordan), The Sun is Also a Star (Nicola Yoon), Doomed From the Beginning (@/veniennes on tiktok), On learning to write professionally (Interview with Jazmine Hughes by The Creative Independent), The Tower of Nero (Rick Riordan), My art
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reunitedinterlude · 29 days
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creativity is nothing without friendship (2024 // 2016)
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marquisgray · 2 months
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How mad at me would you guys be if this was the pose I used for a Soap poster?
(This is going to match the Ghost poster I posted earlier btw)
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reineydraws · 10 months
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ive been meaning to glitter-gif jason forever so i decided tonight was the night! ✨️
(no glitter version under the cut!)
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dekarios · 3 months
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Warhammer 40k: Rogue Trader - Yrliet Lanaevyss
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thatdeadaquarius · 9 months
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That language SAGAU but the Reader can only communicate writing on paper.
Either the Reader is mute and they (characters) don't know/understand sign language or they somehow lost their voices on their transmigration to Teyvat and can only write now. But the characters are left trying to decipher what the Reader wrote.
Examples:
Kaeya: "I may say, that was very unexpected your grace. One such as yourself should be more aware of who you are."
Reader: "wat, y u sayin dat?"
×
Gorou: "Oh, your grace! Careful now. I am most certain that you stepped on something unsightly right now. Let me clean your feet, your grace."
Reader: "r u srs rn? Fml"
Ooooo, this is nice, this is niiccceeee /ref
this would be the energy⬇️
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Man I love this show, I gotta finish it (it’s Komi Can’t Communicate for those who want to see it) where she basically is too shy/introverted to speak (non-verbal neurospicy it seems like to me actually lol) and really wants to make friends and do normal things despite not speaking, her main way of communicating is writing (and her first guy friend who can just read her facial/body language really well lmao)!!
Sun: Gender Neutral Reader (they/them)
Planet: Headcanons-ish?
Stars: dashes/mention of most characters
Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: Reader/”you” are mute/lost their voice, & Trigger Warnings: None Known.
This kinda falls into that post I made abt texting lingo, abt us being nigh incomprehensible when using texting lang. (its basically a code lol)
but i think it’s always neat to see nonverbal rep so here we are (also i think imma go ahead and say it is both selectively mute but also enforced by video game laws!)
u know a good explanation would be for this is actually abt how we technically are only allowed to freely communicate when we’re in chats,
so I could see that still being the only way we can commnicate in Teyvat (look am i little excited abt taking “video game world” a little too literally in every genshin AU ever- maybe.)
tbh i could see so many allogenes having to either learn to make room for you in convos and u also having to get wayyy more expressive in body language/facial expressions
tbh i think itd be pretty easy to get ur meaning, like in a battle or smth fast-paced where u couldnt write, like how Tinker Bell can?
if u dont know what i mean just search “tinkerbell scenes peter pan” on youtube and u can see ppl just having a full conversation with no words with her, which i think would deffo happen with ppl like Kaeya, Lisa, Lumine, Venti, Heizou, Ayato, Yae Miko, Thoma, Beidou and Itto surprisingly i could see it (ppl in the distance just think theyre all talking to themselves sometimes when ur not as visible hehe)
OMG they get u nice gifts for writing all the time, like the newest compact pens from Fontaine, the finest small, medium, and large notebooks from Inazuma,
like a little compact pocketbook so u can easily fit it in pockets!
u know Im absolutely sure you could literally start the texting appreviation trend in Tevyat like this-
like just so it’s easier to communicate with you, a lot of people are willing to adapt/take on abbreviations like “ttyl, gtg, wth, lol, lmao” even stuff like “etc”
lol u start a whole trend in the writing letters business, hehe silly medieval Teyvat is silly and medieval
yknow I think the quieter vision users would definitely find you to be peaceful to be around and easy to understand just with writing (also deffo most likely to adore the soft moments together of just ur pen scribbling and the sounds of nature or a cafe or something around them),
tbh i also think these ppl would be motivated to talk to you alone, or get you away to just talk the two of you for all the reasons above, like Xiao, Aether, Kazuha, Ayaka, Chongyun, Zhongli, Diluc, Sayu, Ei, Sucrose, Eula, Ganyu, Ningguang, Tighnari, Alhaitham omg he might literally be able to take his headphones off around u bc youd be in such quiet spaces all the time, and bc u dont talk he doesn’t have to worry abt u getting loud either lmao
…and then ofc, there’s the bitches that try and guess what ur writing ahead of timeeee 😭
bein all like, “Uh… you.. would like.. to go to… a restaurant… to get some- OH OH I got this one this time! Some pita pockets! …Oh. A drink. Right. Sorry, again.”
definitely Itto, Cyno, Heizou, Xingqiu, Fischl, Amber, Collei, Dehya, Wanderer, Childe, Venti, Keqing (she just used to being fast ok), Kaveh lmao
I hope my reply was a little fun!! THANK U FOR SENDING THIS I LOVE THIS SM!! Man it’s so hard to make you feel my appreciation for this idea thru the damn screen
like how do i send a virtual hug
ANYWAY, if you or anybody else had an idea for celebrating 1000 followers lmk bc i am STRUGGLING with this same issue for that,
like how to make u guys feel my love 😩 ❤️‍🔥
Safe travels ignihideous,
💀♒
♡the beloveds♡
@karmawonderss / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi
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