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lightsoutletsgo · 1 month

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mimi congrats on 500, i’m so happy for you! 🤍🧸✨🫶🏼 i never send anything for these kinds of things but i need to do it now because i trust you 👀 so okay. . . can i request 2 ships please? and ofc i wouldn’t mind a little nsfw. i’m an aspiring actress, my favorite food is pasta and always will be. i’m a little introverted and shy but once i’m comfortable around people i’m able to get out of my bubble. i’m a perfectionist and don’t like not having control over my life. i have a hard time expressing my feelings :( and may come across as a cold person but i am extremely sentimental, i just wanna be held and loved. i like going out as much as i like staying in watching a movie or doing anything, really.

congrats again baby, love youuuu. <333

ahhh gwen! I'm so honoured that you trust me to write this request hehe I hope you enjoy it - this was literally so fun 🤭 happy reading! love mimi 🤍

MAX VERSTAPPEN ᝰ.ᐟ₊ ⊹ (everyone pretends to be shocked) - calls you schatje or lekker ding (when he's being silly) - loves loves LOVES feeling your hand in his!! it keeps him grounded - his love language is physical touch - he loves surprising you with flowers and buying you flowers. doesn't even need to be for anything, he just loves showing you how he feels through the language of flowers (omg fic idea?)

max relates hard to feeling like a perfectionist and while he also wants you to be the best version of yourself, he doesn't allow you to be hard on yourself. if he sees you getting too into your head, he's quick to hold your face and make you look at him. he'll remind you that he loves you and that he's proud of you. the way he looks at you makes you feel like you could make a million mistakes in the next few minutes and you'd still be okay - because you have him by your side. both you and max are often called the ice couple. no one means anything by it! they just think it's kind of funny how you're so short with others (especially if you're upset or stressed) but then you look at each other and it's like you do a 180. max won't ever admit this but it actually turns him into such a melt knowing that he's the only one who can turn you that mushy.

max loves taking you with him on race weekends and he will never not get butterflies seeing you there waiting for him in the garage with his name and number on your shirt, but nothing makes him get butterflies more than you sleepily curled up on his chest at home. he's a sucker for at-home dinner date nights and he loves cooking with you in the kitchen, it's fine if it gets super messed up because then he's telling you to get dressed and he's taking you out for dinner at one of the nicest restaurants in monaco where you know there's no way that he would have gotten in if he wasn't the max verstappen.

he loves that you have your dream of being an actress and he does as much as he can to support you in that, even if he's on the other side of the world. helping you look for workshops and audition opportunities, introducing you to your favourite actresses and inspirations when they're at the f1, helping you learn and run lines. you support him so much in his dream and career, showing up to as many of his races as possible that he can't wait for the day he gets to return the favour and stand on the red carpet as your trophy husband for the night! he's actually really excited by the thought!

max is absolutely addicted to the noises you make for him and only him as he loves to remind you. nothing satisfies him more than seeing your eyes roll back as he murmurs to you, his voice low, "who's making you this messy schat hmm?". he relishes in the way you squeeze around him when he's pushing in for the first time and you love the way he grips your hips as he does his best to control himself, the ache of his fingers digging into your hips a delicious reminder over the next few hours of just who you belong to. max is possessive, highly possessive. there is no way you're not leaving his bed, couch, apartment, car, driver's room, without him leaving a pretty mark in at least one or two places. he never does it where it can be captured by the cameras, instead choosing spots that only the two of you know about or spots that he can gently press when you're in public, the brief sting sending tingles down your spine.

"schatje?" max's voice prompts you to open your eyes from where you'd been dozing on the couch with the cats, "what do you want for dinner tonight?" you crane your neck to look at him as you gently scratch under sassy's chin, giggling at the way you feel her starting to purr against your tummy, "hmmm..." you look at him and bite your lip with a smile, max chuckles and nods, "pasta it is then!" you let out a cheer as max crosses the room and gently lifts your head to create a space to sit. as soon as he's sitting, he's placing your head back in his lap, one hand automatically soothing over your hair, his other hand snaking down to link his fingers with yours. you hum happily and he gazes down at you with so much love and adoration you swear you could cry. he leans down to press a soft kiss your forehead. you're not even aware of your eyes closing and drifting off to sleep but when you next open your eyes, you're cuddled into max, the cats nowhere to be found. it's dark outside and the lamp in the corner is switched on, casting a dim golden glow over the room. "how long was I out?" max stretches before pulling you closer to him, burying his nose into your neck and inhaling your cosy sleepy smell. "a couple of hours..." you sigh contentedly, hands sneaking under his hoodie to gently scratch at his lower back soothingly and he shudders next to you, "fuck... I missed you this weekend schatje." "I missed you to..." "I really don't wanna get up to make dinner," you giggle, "me either..." he sighs as if he's making a life altering decision, "then I guess we're just gonna have to order from your favourite italian restaurant." you give a little excited squeak as he rolls on top of you, softly grabbing one of your calves to wrap your leg around his waist, leaning down to press a kiss to your neck before he whispers in your ear, his voice gravelly, "think I could make you cum before dinner arrives?"

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

LANDO NORRIS ᝰ.ᐟ₊ ⊹ - calls you baby or sugar (when he's being annoying) - is addicted to your lips! like he loves kissing them but sometimes he gets so distracted just staring at you talk - his love language is acts of service - lando really isn't a good cook but he'll learn to make your favourite pasta dish just for you! lando is known for being that happy smiley, golden retriever around everyone whether he knows them or not. but you're not and he understands that! whenever you're in a new environment or meeting new people, he's gently linking his fingers with yours and squeezing once, twice, three times just to remind you that he's there if you need him. he'll happily stand slightly in front of you if it makes you feel better but as soon as you've warmed up and you're in your zone he's stepping back with a proud smile (and totally zoning out because your lips look so good when you smile and laugh)

lando is not a chef in any way, but he is determined to learn how to make your favourite dishes just because the way your eyes widen and you smile at him when he presents dinner to you is worth any amount of time or fails or tiny burns he gets in the process! he loves being able to surprise you after a long hard day or at any point! sure the presentation might be lacking and sometimes you have to add a little extra salt when he's not looking, but he does it with so much love and care. even taking the time to set the table up with a candle and some flowers. he'll pull your chair out for you to sit down and serves you as if you were dining at a michelin star restaurant (the only difference is that you pay him in kisses not cash!) he loves when you sit on stream with him and he loves watching you interact with the fans, asking them questions and passing on their questions to him. fans have made many compilation videos of the two of you and the titles and contents never fail to make you giggle watching them when lando's away and you miss him. "lando and his doberman gf" "golden retriver bf x black cat gf" "lando and his gf being the sun and moon for 10 minutes" lando loves how your lips look when they're smiling and laughing but he also loves how they look wrapped around his fingers as he slowly rolls his hips into you while you whine and moan underneath him. he loves the way they look around his cock and sometimes all you have to do is bite or lick your lips before he's clenching his jaw and closing his eyes, desperately trying to stop himself dragging you off to a quiet corner or his room - he usually fails! lando loves sloppy kisses while he fucks you nice and slow and deep, smirking into the kiss as you let out the most lewd whines and whimpers, drooling and cock drunk. he sometimes gets so turned on that he's begging you to sink to your knees under his desk. he's stopped a stream early before now, just because he couldn't wait any longer!

"hey sugar," you roll your eyes with a smile as lando slides onto the bed next to you, "come here often?" "you're ridiculous," you laugh and shove his arm. he wraps his arms around your waist and rolls onto his back, dragging you with him, "lando!" he cuddles into you, firmly tucking you into his side so you can't escape, "I was looking at an audition!" he sighs, "look later..." you wriggle slightly but he's unrelenting, "you're so needy!" you coo at him and you can practically feel his cheeks heat up, "yeah well... been missing you today..." he mumbles and one of your hands comes up to play with his curls absentmindedly, "ohhh yes please," you snort, "your fans are right, you're literally like a puppy..." he pulls away to look at you, "I'd be a good puppy for you," he says with a wink as you scoff and flick his forehead, "don't be such a whore, babe," "can't help it..." he shrugs, "just gotta look at your pretty lips," his face gets closer to yours and you can feel his breath on your lips, "just one look and I need to feel them."

he's murmuring against your lips at this point and your thighs squeeze together with no warning, he fucking giggles and presses a line of soft kisses along your jaw, teasing you. but you're not in the mood, "lando?" your voice is hushed as you look up at his pretty eyes, watching the way the lust and love he has for you swirl in them, "yes baby?" "kiss me." you don't need to ask him twice, he'll gladly kiss you anytime.

#mimi's 500 celebration ₊˚⊹ ᥫ᭡#mimi.writes #mimi.thirsts #sweet moots ₊˚✧*:･#gwen 🧸#max’s wifey #f1 x reader #lando norris x reader #max verstappen x reader #gwen <3

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in-memoriam-tgwk · 11 days

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fun drawing challenge with some fan favorites! ill admit, i had the most fun with antlersplash’s design. he’s got such a pretty fur pattern…

order of appearance!

Brightrunner - Belongs to @restless-clan

Antlersplash - Belongs to @songclangen

Cherrystar - Belongs to @gray-thistleclan

Quickpaw - Belongs to @nox-clan

Sparkkit - Belongs to @moons-of-dewclan

Bonekit - Belongs to me!

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#consider this a partial celebration of 500+ followers WOOHOO you all are so rad! <3 take all my love today you earned it #tgwk ooc #clangen #clangen art #warrior cats

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madame-wilsonn · 2 years

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Hold me, love me, touch me

(Be the first who ever did)

MASTERLIST

Request: "it’s breaking my heart to see you like this" - maybe for Tommy? — @thesoldiersminute

Summary: If you hold me without hurting me / You’ll be the first who ever did

or: after running away from Grace’s funeral, Tommy finds some comfort in your arms

A/N: this is veryyyy different to what I usually post but i’ve had this idea for so long!! It’s inspired by a few scenes from the show as well as a few LDR songs. I would just like to add this quote from California because it fits the story well:

You don't ever have to be stronger than you really are When you're lying in my arms, baby You don't ever have to go faster than your fastest pace Or faster than my fastest cars

Also big big big thank you to my pal @hauntedheathcliff and my bg @huntingingoodwill for helping me out, i don’t think i would have finished and posted it if they weren’t here!! this is the first very long one shot i post, I hope you all enjoy because i’ve been working really hard on this and i think i got too attached to it oops…anyway have fun!! <3

Warnings: mentions of death, war and just angst overall; a bit of fluff (old habits die hard)

Word count: 6,464 words

Thunder rumbled. Its echo reverberating on the tall trees.

Tommy could almost hear it.

The grieving sky screaming. The leaves whispering. Murmuring the same haunting chant over and over.

She’s dead. He killed her. She’s dead. He killed her.

His vision blurred. For an instant, he thought he was finally crying until he noticed the rain. It was raining.

A drop. Then another. And another. And another.

The tears rolling down Tommy’s peaked cap turned into weeping. The sky wailed its pain, crying the tears the widowed man didn’t have.

He couldn’t bring himself to.

Was he so broken even the death of his wife wouldn’t affect him?

The man brought the half-empty bottle of whiskey to his lips. The golden liquid cast a gentle warmth on his entire being. Tommy welcomed it, only wincing as the taste burnt his lips.

At least he could still feel that.

The reason he couldn’t cry for his late wife, he knew it.

That very reason made him cower with shame. Run away from her mourning family. Hide from his own son who, only aged two, reminded him so much of her.

But how could he cry for a woman he had never been in love with?

He swallowed another sip.

No matter how many times he had foolishly tried to convince himself, he was never in love.

He cared for her. He was loyal. He was devoted.

But never in love.

No, his heart belonged to another.

He chugged at the bottle, drinking until he couldn’t breathe and his head felt dizzy.

He closed his eyes, the heavy rain making him shiver.

Her image, engraved on his eyelids, shook his heart. She had always been aware of it. There was a distance, a wall between them. He didn’t look at her the way she wanted him to— no spark, no tenderness in his gaze. They shared a house and a family but that’s all they would ever have.

If Tommy married Grace, despite her betrayal, it was only to do right by her.

And he never regretted it.

Thomas Shelby wasn’t a man of many regrets.

He was a man of guilt.

Marrying a woman he didn’t love to preserve her reputation— to protect her— just to get her killed instead.

That was all him.

He stared blankly at his hands, an empty chuckle leaving his lips.

Those hands. Dripping with innocent blood.

So much blood.

Blood on her porcelain skin. Blood on her powder pink dress. Blood on his pristine white shirt. Blood. Everywhere.

And it was all his fault.

Gulp.

If there was one thing worse than being responsible for Grace's death, it was the shame he felt.

Even dead, he couldn’t give her what she desired. He couldn’t mourn for her the way everyone expected him to. His heart couldn’t break for her the way it should because it never belonged to her in the first place.

Gulp.

His son was going to grow up without his mother. Tommy knew how that felt. It was the last thing he wished for Charlie. To grow up the way he did.

Gulp. Gulp. Gulp.

The last drop of ember liquid slid down his throat and Tommy stared at the clear glass. There was no consolation. No rest for him. Not here. And certainly not at the bottom of that bottle.

He got up suddenly, stumbling through the large field into his car. Glancing at his pallid face in the rearview mirror, he sighed.

There was only one place Tommy could hope to find comfort tonight.

A soft knock on the door tore you from your thoughts. A swift glance at the clock pointed to the late hour as you slipped your robe on. You crossed your apartment warily, wondering who could visit in the middle of the night. Who could be brave— or stupid enough to defy the pouring rain outside?

You opened the door slowly, your heart pounding in apprehension.

“Tommy?” You opened the door slowly, heart pounding in apprehension. “Gosh, Tom, you must be freezing! A-are you okay?” you quickly ushered him inside.

Grabbing his coat and cap, you handed him a dry towel.

You hadn’t seen him since the morning, at the funeral. He left after his speech, handing Charlie to Polly and taking his car.

His brothers spent hours searching for him but it was useless. If Thomas Shelby decided he didn’t want to be found, then nobody would.

You hesitated for a moment. Maybe you should warn Polly or Ada, tell them he was with you.

Instead, you brought a comforting hand to his soaked arm. “Would you like me to make you some tea?”

“No, it’s alright. I…I don’t even know why I came here,” he slurred, his eyes darting around— always avoiding you.

Guiding him towards the sofa, you managed to get a better look at him.

To say he seemed tired was a euphemism. His eyes lacked their usual spark and his skin had a sick, grayish tone. He had aged twenty years in about a week.

Your heart clenched in your chest as the memory of the young man he used to be appeared. His clear laugh rang out somewhere in your mind and you thought about the long nights spent with the other. Up there, on the roof of some abandoned factory, dreaming of a gilded future.

“Do you think you can get up? My brother left some clothes here, you could change into something dry.”

Tommy took a cigarette out from the pocket of his black jacket. You observed him, watching the same ritual you’ve witnessed countless times. The cigarette between his lips, he muttered “It’s fine,” before inhaling the smoke. “I should go anyway. Shouldn’t have bothered you so late at night. ‘M sorry.”

Your hand reached for his. “No. You’re not going anywhere, Tom.”

He observed you as he felt your thumb running against his skin. Such a simple gesture yet it took Tommy a moment to recognize the small display of affection.

Your touch sent shivers down his spine, different from the ones he felt because of the cold— enjoyable. He decided to focus on the warmth emanating from your hand, sitting back down.

He wondered when was the last time someone had been so tender with him. The last time touch didn’t rhyme with broken bones and bruises. The last time he seemed important enough to be handled with care and gentleness.

“Hey,” you announced softly, taking a seat next to Tommy. “How’s your arm doing?”

He took a swig straight out of the bottle of champagne. You instantly recognized the “gift” offered by Grace as he handed it to you. “Feels like it's been shot,” he shrugged, his gaze fixed on his passed-out brothers.

Sighing, you swallowed some of the bubbly liquid again. Even though a part of you was thrilled to see the blonde barmaid gone— you had been wishing for that ever since she stepped into town— seeing Tommy so heartbroken snatched the joy away.

To your dismay, her arrival in Small Heath brought back parts of him you thought were lost in some deserted french field. It shattered your heart to see his smile, the somehow sparkling eyes, the lightness in his demeanor every time—and only when she was around.

And yet, if it meant him being happy again, then you could deal with the disappointment and the jealousy and the yearning. You could handle watching his joy from afar. Even if you weren’t the reason behind his smile, even if you weren’t part of it. You just wanted him to be happy.

But it was all a lie.

Who would have thought it was merely a scheme?

Probably the oldest one in the book— to get close to the man in charge and trick him into handing the information on a silver platter. No one suspected her. Not even Polly.

She had managed to fool all of you, the same way you’d fool a child into drinking some nasty medicine.

“And you?” you finally ask, turning your head to observe Tommy. “How are you?”

You noticed the clench in his jaw, the pause—a fraction of a second too long before answering “Good.”

"Really good or ‘just leave me alone’ good?”

He grabbed the bottle from your hands, staying quiet and you took this as a sign to ask again. “Do you want me to leave you alone?”

One of the things Tommy cherished the most in your relationship was his ability to be honest with you. You seemed to understand, or at least accept what others qualified as flaws. He knew he could ask you to go away if he wanted to without upsetting you. It comforted him in some way.

But then, the thought of you leaving made his heart clench painfully in his chest. The swirl of emotions was too much. Too much for him to deal with alone.

His hand searched for yours, squeezing it gently. The words didn’t need to be uttered. You sat closer to him and for some reason Tommy couldn’t understand, his head rested on your shoulder.

It wasn’t calculated. He didn’t even think of it.

One minute he was carrying his heavy heart alone. The next, you stood by him and lifted some of the burden away.

Your fingers made their way to the shaved part of his head and Tommy closed his eyes. He could forget about everything. Forget about the throbbing pain in his arm. Forget about Danny Whizzbang. Forget about her.

He could just lean on you for a little bit. Focus on the feeling of your nails grazing his skin. Let the faint scent of aldehydes wrapped in roses suffocate the demons in his mind.

“I don’t want you to blame yourself, Tom,” you whispered after a moment of silence.

He scoffed and you brought your hands to his face, lifting his head from your shoulder. “I’m serious,” the fierce look in your eyes confirmed your words. “It could have happened to any of us. And you’ve been through so much. You wanted to believe you could finally allow yourself some peace,” your thumbs ran across his cheekbones. “It was with the wrong person but you still deserve it. You deserve good things.”

Tommy stared at you, almost bewildered. How could you say those words to him— and believe them when you knew what he was? He wondered if your friendship affected your judgment. Made you less able to separate the man he was from the memories you had with him.

As if you had been reading through his mind, you interrupted his ruminations. “I know you’ve convinced yourself you were all bad and evil but you’re wrong. The voices in your head are wrong. There is still good in you, Tom. I know there is, I can see it,” your hand slid from his cheek, dropping to his heart. “Right here.”

Tommy could only observe you. The determination in your voice, the earnestness in your eyes, you were convinced with your own speech. So much that a part of him began to trust you.

You smiled softly at him and he swore he felt his heart miss a beat. “You’re going to meet a nice girl. And she’ll be funny and sweet. And she’ll probably have the patience of a saint to deal with your stubborn arse.” He couldn’t help but chuckle at your remark. “But she’ll love you more than anything else and she’ll be lucky because you’ll love her just the same.”

And while Tommy listened intently, the only thing he could think about was you.

Everything you described. Everything you said.

You. You. You.

It was you.

Tommy pressed his palms against his eyes until light dots appeared in his vision. He was beyond exhausted. His head, his arms, his legs ached. His entire body was begging him to surrender. Wave the white flag and give up.

He didn’t know how many battles he could still fight. How many blows he could still stomach. How many times his heart could still be torn apart and keep going.

If all of this was extra, why did it hurt so much?

“I called Polly,” you cut Tommy’s train of thoughts, entering the living room. “Charlie’s alright, he’s asleep now. She is staying at Arrow House with Ada.”

Tommy sighed, his gaze fixed on his trembling fingers. You observed him quietly, noticing the habit he had when something bothered him. He kept clenching his jaw anxiously. To the point you worried he might dislocate it.

Trying to catch his attention, you cleared your throat. Once. Twice.

And realizing he was far too gone into his own mind, you lightly touched his shoulder.

“You should get some rest. You’re tired.”

“I’m alright,” the response was short. Cold.

Anyone else would have backed down. Apologized, even. But you sat next to him, your concern only growing and decided to ask, “When was the last time you slept, hm?”

The dead silence that followed said it all.

You shook your head, a desperate sigh filling the quiet room with your worry.

“I wish there was something I could do,” your fingers brushed against his damp hair. “It’s breaking my heart to see you like this, Tom”

He stared at you, feeling your breath tickling his cheeks— the soft summer breeze embracing him after a hot, straining day.

And something in the air shifted.

Maybe it was the comfort Tommy found in your eyes. Maybe it was the way his heartbeat seemed to chant your name. Maybe he just wanted to.

But he leaned in.

His lips caressed yours, almost timidly before he moved closer. He was kissing you. The dwindling ember ablaze at the sweet taste of your lips mixed with whiskey and tobacco. A precious nectar Tommy knew he could never live without now that he had tasted it.

It seemed to be the only way to bring air into his lungs. Yet somehow, he felt breathless at the same time.

The feeling of his lips— so strangely soft made you dizzy. Your brain didn’t seem to work properly as you kissed him back. Tommy. Kissing you.

You almost giggled, a warm rush spreading in your chest and your head and everywhere in your body.

The only thing keeping you from bursting in flames was the cold. From his hands. His shirt. His hair twirling around your fingers.

You relished it. Cherished his calloused skin against yours. The dazzled lightness in the air.

At that moment, you were no more than a simple woman. And he was a simple man. Kissing you so passionately in the faint twilight.

Your hand touched his, grazing the golden band on his finger and you felt the bubble around you explode.

You weren’t a simple woman. He was far from a simple man.

You pushed him away, regretfully. Your body was almost leaning in again, craving more of the electricity skipping through your veins.

You wanted to be his. And him to be yours.

But not like this.

You knew Tommy like you knew your way back home. He couldn’t address his grief properly. He had never really learned, even after years of practice. The only thing he was used to was taking the pain away, no matter how. No matter the consequences he’d have to face.

And you were well aware of that.

Tommy wasn’t kissing you out of love or even out of desire. He was kissing you to feel better. You couldn’t let that happen. Not to him. Certainly not to you.

But the look he gave you as he realized what you had done made you want to throw it all away.

To hell with morals and honorable principles!

Who needed that when you could kiss him over and over again? When all you had to care about was his heart pounding against your palm, raindrops cooling down your flushed cheeks.

“Tom…” you resigned yourself.

No, you couldn’t just throw it all away. He was mourning his dead wife and he was in pain. You couldn’t take advantage of that.

His hand left your waist as if it had burnt him and guilt soon replaced the gentle warmth in your chest. But it was for the best.

At least, you tried to convince yourself it was.

The terrible humiliation was nothing compared to the regret he’d feel as the sunlight cleared his mind. He couldn’t realize it now. Too intoxicated, protected by the moon’s sheltering shimmer.

You had to keep your composure. Don’t let yourself be fooled by the comforting embrace. It was all an illusion. Giving in meant feeding the sliver of desire you tried so hard to contain.

You couldn’t live off some false hope.

You couldn’t risk your own sanity just so he could choose her.

Not again.

Running through the empty halls of the company, heart pounding in your chest with worry, you prayed.

Please let him be there. Please make sure he’s safe. Please. Please. Please.

Your heels hit the hardwood floor, each step resonating through the halls of the empty building. Out of breath, you almost fell to the ground when the engraved glass doors appeared in front of you— at last, liberation.

You pushed them open, not paying attention to the sound of the slamming doors. A relieved sigh left your lips, your gaze falling on him.

In his armchair, almost asleep, Tommy didn’t budge at the noise. He lazily opened one eye, observing your disheveled hair, how breathless you were. Sitting up, questions bubbling in his chest, he opened his mouth but you interrupted him before he could say a word.

“Where the fuck have you been, eh?” you yelled, walking into the office. Tommy left his chair, carefully joining you in the middle of the room. “I’ve been looking all over for you!”

He only stared at you, waiting for the anger to settle down. He realized how worried you must have been, how terrified it was to not find him after he left so suddenly. But he could only feel relief.

Two hours ago, he was kneeling in front of a grave, waiting to be shot. And now, he was with you, getting a well-deserved earful for disappearing.

Tommy had probably never been this happy to get yelled at.

“…And nobody knew where the fuck you were! And then there were shots and we were all running around, even got my new shoes ruined!” you rambled, your hands waving around. “Arthur told me it was over but I couldn’t find you! I searched everywhere, even asked that posh girl who looked after your horse! And I swear to God, someday I will put a leash on you! Disappearing like that! I-“ You stopped abruptly, your expression changing as you noticed the bright red staining Tommy’s temple “You’re bleeding. Why are you bleeding? What…”

“I’m okay,” he replied softly, feeling a change in the air. You closed the distance between you, your hands reaching for the injury.

“What happened to you?” You whispered, your voice higher than before.

Thomas’s hand wrapped yours and he smiled, trying to reassure you. “I survived, Y/N. I’m alive.”

Your lips wobbled, eyes watering and your anger wafted away, replaced by a gut-wrenching worry.

The words he uttered to you at the races before he left took on their full meaning. You couldn’t realize it at the time but the way he looked at you, the way he kissed your temple and promised to come back.

It had felt a little too familiar but you couldn’t remember why.

He was saying goodbye, that’s why. He promised something he wasn’t sure he would keep just to assure your peace of mind.

Suddenly, you were back on the train platform, watching him walk away to a most certain death, completely powerless.

You almost lost him today. Again.

He was gone but then he came back.

Maybe there was a reason. Maybe you were granted a second chance after letting the first one go. Who knew if you would get another?

You couldn’t waste it.

You couldn’t let your last chance slip through your fingers.

You couldn’t risk losing him.

Not without him knowing about your feelings.

“Tommy, I…”

His arms wrapped around your waist stopped the words on the tip of your tongue. He held you close, so close his heart beat right over your ear. One gentle kiss on your temple. His fingers threading through your hair, you closed your eyes.

“I’ll buy you new shoes. I’ll buy you all the shoes you wish for. Even hire a cobbler just for you,” he whispered, tightening his embrace.

“Forget about the shoes…” you started, trying to find the right words.

But what could you say?

Nothing seemed enough. All so insignificant compared to the love you carried like a cherished picture in a locket— always close to your heart.

“I have to tell you something,” he interrupted, a soft smile brightening his expression. “I’m going to be a father.”

“What?” you asked, leaning back.

“Grace’s pregnant with my baby. I’m going to marry her and we’ll raise him together.”

And the world seemed to crumble around you.

Who knew a sentence as simple as this could have the same effect as a thousand cuts?

You could only stare at him, your mind playing the words over and over again— a broken record you were doomed to endure for the rest of your days.

Your eyes burnt with bitter tears attempting to escape their prison. A million questions rushed through your brains, striking each other until nothing made sense.

Not her. Not her. Anyone but her.

You would find another way. Raise the child yourself if you had to. But not her.

He couldn’t fall for her again. You had to talk him out of it. Reason with him.

You couldn’t lose him like this.

“Y/N?”

You focused your attention back on Tommy, noticing the frown forming between his brows.

He expected your answer. Hell, his decision probably depended on your next words. But the idea of a baby…

He had given up on that.

The dreams of a happy, somewhat normal life had been buried in the tunnels. Covered in mud. Lying next to the decaying bodies of his comrades.

And now, it was so close to him. He could reach through the mud and get this life back. He could try to leave the war behind. Let a new life forgive all the lost ones.

Let the flowers grow over the old tunnels.

You bit the inside of your cheek. No, you couldn’t ruin that for him. He went through enough. He deserved some rest.

No matter how selfish you wanted to be, he would always be above all foolish sentiments.

A forced, poorly attempted smile made its way on your face— locking the tears away.

“I’m just…I’m so happy for you,” your voice broke as relief washed over his tired features. He hugged you again, chuckling. “You’re going to be a wonderful father,” there was no hesitation. Only the truth.

“And you’ll be an even more wonderful aunt,” he kissed your cheek, rubbing your back. “Don’t tell Ada I said this.”

You clutched his jacket in your hands, biting your lips hard enough a faint metallic taste covered the bile in your mouth.

The familiar feeling was here again. An impression of déjà-vu. Back on the train platform. Watching him leave.

But this time, he wasn’t coming back.

“I’m sorry, Tommy, we can’t…” but he wasn’t listening. He couldn’t listen to whatever excuse you had.

The only thing worse than being rejected by you would probably be hearing you say the words.

I don’t love you, Tommy.

No. It would be the fatal blow. He wasn’t ready for that.

He got up, the alcohol in his blood seemingly gone— deserting, leaving him powerless.

“Tommy, please”

You kept saying his name like it mattered. Like it would change anything.

Shaking his head, he pulled his arm away.

Nothing could mend the raw rip, tearing his heart in half.

It made no sense to him. He was convinced there had been something.

You.

You who stood by him through everything.

You were the only constant.

Your relationship, his only haven— the solid deck on vicious waters.

Never breaking. Never busting.

What would he do if the deck shattered?

Tommy didn’t have the answer to that question. He didn’t want to know.

The cold pit in his stomach as you leaned back was enough to make him leave. He couldn’t bear looking you in the eyes, terrified of what he’d find there.

He had to go.

You followed him through your apartment, calling his name. He wasn’t going anywhere, you wouldn’t allow it. Passing the door meant giving up on your friendship.

It couldn’t end this way.

“Tom, listen to me,” you pleaded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” struggling to find your words, you felt the lump in your throat growing until you were suffocating. “Please, don’t go. You can’t go now, you can’t.”

He grabbed his jacket. The sound of your voice withering almost made him stay. Force a smile on. Tell you it was alright.

No matter how hardened he grew with the years, he never could stand you crying. Ever since the day he met you.

You had scratched your knee on the dingy pavement and he carried you on his back. He even stole a chocolate bar to console you— the little girl with braids and the sweetest laugh his ears were blessed to hear.

He swore he’d do anything to bring the smile back on your face. Engrave the lightness it carried in his heart.

You would know no woe. No grief.

Not as long as you had him.

You clenched your jaw, desperate tears starting to roll down your cheeks. Deep down, you knew your choice was the best but the sight of him leaving—even worse, hating you, made you sick.

“Tommy,” your voice broke, “Please, you can’t leave now. Please…,” one last wretched attempt to get him to stay.

Time began to flow so slowly you could swear it stopped.

The clock didn’t tick. The fire in the hearth didn’t crack. The wind didn’t blow.

The world around you held its breath. Waiting. Carefully listening to your beating heart. Pounding against your ribcage. Each thump edging you to the forlorn void of despair.

But if there was one promise Tommy wouldn’t break, it was the one he made to the little girl with her braids and her scratched knee.

His greatest weakness.

You.

Fingers freezing on the doorknob, Tommy listened to your quiet sniffles. He bit his tongue, feeling the guilty grip around his heart.

The moment of hesitation— only a few seconds but it was enough time to put your hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” your forehead rested against his as you whispered, your breath brushing against his lips. “But we can’t do this,” Tommy clenched his jaw, his shoulders slouching in apprehension. “You’re only doing this to feel better and I wish I could help you, I do. But I won’t let you wreck everything just to regret it tomorrow and probably the days after…because you love her.”

A trembling breath left your lips. “You're in love with Grace and you’re mourning and…”

“What?”

Tommy pushed you away, deep creases forming on his forehead. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Tom…”

“What are you talking about? Why would you say that, eh?” confusion in his voice turning into venom, the lack of sleep grinding his nerves.

“Y-You love her. You love Grace, she was your wife and I’m sorry if…”

“Is that what you think?” he spat out as your hands reached for him again.

The fatal blow.

Unexpected. Sharp. Lethal.

“What do you mean?” you stared at him, puzzled at his brusque reaction. “Grace was…”

“Stop saying her fucking name!” he snapped, eyes maddened by his own anguish.

The mere sound of her name was enough to stir the guilt overtaking his body— stabbing the same bleeding wound over and over.

You stood before him, not knowing how to act.

Tommy rarely lost his cool. He always had the upper hand over his own emotions. You were used to that. You had learnt to deal with his seemingly unshakable façade.

This was different.

“Is that what you think, hm?” he repeated, cutting the stunned silence reigning “You think I was in love with her?”

You had no idea what to reply. You couldn’t grasp the reason behind his outburst. His anger and his hurt were part of a puzzle missing its central piece.

Twisting his words in your mind, you tried to find a clue— anything to help you understand. The accumulation of distressing events was the most obvious answer but it still didn’t explain everything.

“Tom, I don’t understand, I…” you finally admitted, powerless faced with his own torment.

Your confession made him scoff. Tommy’s chest heaved and he clenched his jaw, biting back the words burning his tongue.

The turmoil of emotion began to overwhelm him and he knew that as soon as he opened his mouth, words would flow uncontrollably. The wise decision was to walk away.

Walk away and blame the concerning amount of whiskey in his blood the next day.

Just walk away.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?”

Of course.

The heavy lump in Tommy’s throat seemed to explode, spreading its vehement poison across his body.

“I was never in love with Grace.” he spun around, facing your defeated expression “I was never in love with her because I’ve always loved you. You.”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t say anything. But Tommy didn’t expect you to. “She was the mother of my son and I cared about her but the way I love you… You are the only woman that ever mattered and without you…” his voice broke, eyes watering.

The wave of emotion washed over him with such intensity, air barely reached his lungs.

Drowning.

He felt like he was drowning. Condemned in a tormented sea. Desperately gasping for air yet only allowing more water in.

Tommy considered the idea of forsaking— let the water burn his throat, churn at his insides as long as he could rest. As long as his soul didn’t ache.

But at the very last second, he felt hands pulling him out.

You embraced him, arms tightly knit around his neck, his head resting against your shoulder. Tommy closed his eyes, treasuring the small moment of peace granted to him.

Feeling the strength in his body failing, you guided your bodies to the carpeted floor. His arms tightened around you and you sighed.

His confession had been everything you ever wanted to hear and you desperately wanted to believe him. Craved to whisper those same words back.

But could you trust the words of a man so inebriated he would probably not remember by the morning?

“It was all an illusion”, you reminded yourself.

Tommy, your friend, may have been the man you loved but he was also a widower. Maybe it made no sense to act this way and maybe you should believe him because why else would he say this?

But it was unfair to expect him to “make sense” after what happened to him.

He needed comfort. He needed to stop being the man in charge, the “always standing” one. He needed you to be his friend.

Only that.

Your hands rubbed his back soothingly and you kissed the side of his head, chasing the voice in your head begging you to give in.

For now, you’d have to content yourself with that.

A gentle embrace, mending the scattered pieces of his heart in the dark hall. Tommy couldn’t let go. Your arms provided the solace he longed for—the lifebelt keeping him afloat.

And as you held him, he could only think about the time. The time he lost. The time he could have had.

If only he had said something…

The train platform turned into a sea of teary goodbyes, children escaping their mother’s grasp and boys, men— soldiers, leaving for France.

Clutching Tommy’s army jacket in your hand, you felt his fingers brushing the tears on your cheeks.

“Come on, sweetheart, you know I hate seeing you cry,” he attempted a soft smile.

“Then don’t leave us.”

And he knew he would. He would do anything if it dried your tears and erased the sad pout on your face.

“Please, just one smile. I want to see you smile.”

In case it was the last time.

Tommy searched through his pockets, waving a bright blue box in front of you. “Now you can’t cry anymore,” he muttered with a sly smirk.

You stared at the chocolate bar and couldn’t help the grin making its way through your tears. You swung your arms around his neck, cutting his breath short as you hugged him.

Tommy returned the embrace, closing his eyes.

He could never open them again and stay with you. He wouldn’t have to go anywhere. Just stay. Thread his fingers through your hair and kiss you and love you. He could just stay.

Neither of you wanted to let go. You were pretty sure neither of you could.

As long as you had him. As long as he had you. Nothing could reach you. Nothing could hurt you. If only you held onto each other tighter.

But a loud, piercing whistle resonated through the station, breaking the tender embrace. Tommy took a moment to admire you. Gentle features and radiant smile. That’s how he wanted to remember you. His thumbs reached under your eyes. No tears.

Not today. Not ever.

He wasn’t sure he could keep standing there as you cried and not cry himself. Blinking away, his jaw clenched, he let his fingers trail down your cheek.

His touch was so soft, so light—like feathers tickling your skin— it almost made you forget why he was leaving.

You tried to smile, even as a few rebellious tears tried to escape.

Oh, my darling Y/N...

And he thought he might finally admit it. Confess right here on the noisy train platform. Whisper the words into your ear and make you promise you’ll wait for him.

He was already walking towards death, he might as well free himself of the secret he kept for so long— the same way a condemned man would.

“Tommy?”

He focused his attention on you, the delicately embroidered handkerchief close to your nose. Your eyes reddened with tears, cheeks still damp.

Yes, he could say it.

But what if he didn’t come back?

What if he told you he loved you and died in some french field? What if the only thing you got back from him was a box of his belongings and nothing else?

“I…I just…” You wouldn't handle it. You were already terrified of what would happen, he couldn’t add to that some foolish confession just to feel better.

He couldn’t risk it.

“I’ll miss you. Take care, yeah?” he leaned in, kissing your temple.

“Come on, Tom! We’re gonna be late,” Arthur’s deep voice urged him.

“I’ll write to you all the time,” you promised, your hand reaching for his.

Tommy didn’t let go, holding your fingers until he was too far. He stepped onto the train, his eyes always set on yours.

One last glance. One last smile.

And he was gone.

Arthur and John found a compartment where they set their bags, greeting other soldiers. But Tommy wasn’t paying attention.

He had a chance. He could have said it.

No. No, it would have been too selfish to blurt it out and leave. He wanted to tell you he loved you but not under Death’s malignant threat.

He would admit he loved you only if he could live to fulfill that promise. When he could take you dancing. When he could be sure to fall asleep kissing you and wake up just the same.

What was the point of saying it if he never had the chance to show it?

But could he really risk dying without ever telling you?

If he died and you never knew he loved you, he would regret it.

One last whistle resonated through the train station. The train wobbled, slowly moving.

No. No. No.

Tommy left the compartment, running to the corridors.

“Tom, what the fuck are you doing?”

The last thing he wanted was to break your heart if he didn’t come back. But he couldn’t leave without you knowing just how much he loved you.

He just had to make his way back to you.

And he could. He could fight and floor his opponent if it meant coming home to you.

He just had to say it. He had to.

He would never forgive himself if he didn’t.

Pushing away soldiers, ignoring their exclamations and complaints, Tommy finally reached the last car.

It was full but it didn’t matter. He burst in, running towards the window. Quick. Before it’s too late.

I love you.

Soldiers were staring at him as if he was mad.

Maybe he was.

I love you.

He leaned out, almost tipping over and falling. He didn’t care.

I love you.

Tommy spotted you amongst the crowd.

I love you. I love you. I...

But the train had already left the platform.

It was too far. It was too late.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, defeated.

No one noticed the tears in his eyes. The train rushed under the dim tunnel as regret filled his body with immense darkness.

Too late.

You woke up with a groan, shy rays of sunshine tiptoeing through your quiet apartment. But you couldn’t enjoy the warm weather. Not when every limb, every muscle, every fiber of your body ached.

On the floor. You had fallen asleep on the floor.

You groaned again, stretching your sore legs. As you tried to get up, the night before came back to your mind.

At least you had an explanation for your aching neck.

You called for Tommy, expecting to find him in the living room but the room was completely empty.

The exhaustion in your body was enough to not question it too much as you made your way to the kitchen. You needed a cup of tea. And maybe some sleep in your bed.

But as you moved towards the table to prepare your breakfast, you noticed a small piece of paper.

Recognizing Tommy’s clear writing, you felt a warm rush through your body and a smile creeping on your tired features.

#ma ptite bombasse 🥰#tommy <3 #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby angst #thomas shelby fluff #peaky blinders #anna's fics #500 followers celebration #anna's grand ball #peaky blinders

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a-little-unsteddie · 9 months

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how about steddie, with eddie in s3 and 9. "you're staring" (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

absolutely i will write this. i really want to write a full fic where eddie is dragged into the mess during s3, but at least i can get it out of my system for a bit with this. hope you enjoy it <3

9. “You’re staring.”

Prompts (not accepting new ones) || AO3

The thing about being drugged with Russian truth serum, is that Steve wasn’t sure how long it was supposed to last, but surely not as long as it had lasted so far.

Steve and Robin were sitting in the hallway between the water fountain they had drank from and the bathrooms they had stumbled out of not too long ago, giggling mindlessly at something neither of them really knew. They were leaning into each other and saying whatever came to mind, which at this point was a lot of nonsensical mutterings about the movie they had been watching.

“I think it’s out of our system,” Steve said, leaning his head back to watch the weird twinkling ceiling above them. It was still too nauseating to look at, so he let his gaze drift and caught on a familiar figure.

“Really?” Robin asked, tilting her head to look at him. Steve nodded, still watching Eddie Munson, who had yet to notice them, so he took the opportunity to observe.

Eddie spoke with his hands, for one thing, and he wore rings. The way the light glinted off the metalic pieces of jewelry never failed to catch Steve’s gaze. Eddie gesticulated wildly, carefree, as he spoke, and Steve couldn’t look away.

Robin was still babbling away beside him, to which Steve was half-heartedly listening to, but also, he couldn’t be judged for the fact that he was a little distracted. Eddie Munson was right there, looking like that.

Steve watched Eddie’s head tip back into a loud, rambunctious laugh and flickered his gaze to the person who had caused such an open display of joy. Gareth, Steve thought, if he remembered correctly. Someone who was also in Eddie’s little club of nerds. His gaze didn’t linger on Gareth for long, wandering back to the metalhead before too much time had passed. Eddie waved Gareth on, who went into one of the theaters that were showing Back to the Future, if Steve had to hazard a guess.

It was then that Eddie seemed to notice the two sitting where they were, but Steve didn’t realize, too busy checking him out shamelessly.

“Steve,” Robin said, giggling. Steve hummed in question, turning so his head was facing her direction, but he was still watching Eddie. “You’re staring,” she whispered. Steve made a noise of confusion, still just a little distracted.

“Can’t help it,” Steve said, which was not what he had wanted to say, so apparently they were still under the influence.

Steve blinked slowly as he brought his gaze down Eddie’s body, catching on the black hanky in his pocket, on the chains connecting his wallet to his jeans, his worn shoes, and back up again slowly, catching this time on the tears in his jeans, on the way his shirt was lifting as he walked.

Wait.

Walked?

Steve snapped his gaze up to Eddie’s face, realizing with trepidition that his appreciation had been caught.

Steve looked at Robin, and whispered loudly, panicked, “He’s coming over, what do I do?” Which did nothing but cause Robin to burst into giggles next to him, Steve made a noise of sadness, “Robin,” he whined, dragging out the ‘n’.

“You two, uh,” Eddie said, which caused Steve to snap his gaze back to him with wide eyes, “…alright?” He asked, causing Steve and Robin to look at each other and giggle mindlessly.

“No,” Steve said, unable to lie. Robin nodded her head in agreement with Steve. He continued to stare at Eddie, unblinking as he took in every feature he could now that Eddie was right in front of him. Eddie looked vaguely like he was concerned and confused, like he couldn’t figure out exactly what he was looking at, but knowing there was something off about it.

With the twinkling ceiling behind Eddie, Steve thought he looked a little ethereal, beautiful in a way that he’d never seen before.

“Uhh, thank you?” Eddie said, tilting his head to the side in confusion. Steve’s cheeks burned as he realized he had said that thought out loud—but, well. Steve couldn’t exactly lie, could he?

Robin continued to giggle, clearly finding the whole situation amusing, which Steve supposed he was glad she was at least finding the situation humorous.

“It’s true!” Steve said, unable to help himself and began babbling about everything he thought was beautiful about Eddie, which was a lot. “I love how you talk with your hands, your rings always look so hot I wanna suck on your fingers,” Eddie’s eyes widened as Steve continued, “you laugh with your full body and it sounds so carefree and pretty and I want to count every single one of your freckles, with my tongue,” Robin slapped a hand over his mouth, but Steve struggled slightly, finding himself wanting to continue despite knowing it was definitely not something he should be telling the other man so openly, especially since they were in public.

Thankfully, before Steve could say anything else, Dustin and Erica appeared.

“There you two are!” Dustin said, filled with exasperation. He looked at Eddie, “Sorry about that, they were supposed to stay in theater four, but they don’t listen very well. We got them from here,” he said, as he and Erica dragged them up. Before Eddie could even begin to argue, Erica and Dustin were pulling them down the hallway as it suddenly filled with people.

Steve kept glancing back at Eddie, trying to get one last look at the pretty man before they disappeared into the crowd.

#!!! i had sm fun writing this #hope you like it sails <3 #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #robin buckley #steve & robin #unsteddie answers #unsteddie writing #sails tag #500 followers celebration

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yuri-is-online · 7 months

Note

Hi hope you have a nice day.

I’d like to request prompt 9 with azul , ace and epel

Please feel free to ignore this

9. You weren't technically invited to this event but it's a Masquerade! It's not like anyone will notice or care if you sneak in, so you do just that and find a really depressed friend of yours lamenting they won't get to dance with their crush.

My dear friend there is no need to be so shy, I asked for requests. You have no need to ask me to ignore you! Hold your head high, you are more than welcome here ⊂(・ヮ・⊂)

As a note I got a separate request for this prompt from Azul's pov which I still intend to write and post in addition to this, but if said requester wishes for an additional character they are more than welcome to send a message, there is no time limit on that.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, I could not for the fucking life of me find any of the music I wanted to use for Azul. No piano cover for the first song and then no instrumental version of "Part of Your World" from Dreamlight Valley; why that isn't on youtube when it is my literal favorite arrangement of the song I couldn't tell you smh. I did manage to find something close to it though... The rest of the event requests can be found on my masterlist.

Azul

Magic shmagic, you have got to be some sort of wizard with just how well you managed to weasel your way into this stupid party. No one had been checking invitations, probably assuming that no one without magic would bother taking time to make an elaborate ensemble just to get their hands on some prime snacks. Clearly they underestimated the great responsibility bestowed upon the owner of a set of tupperware. You would have added "and a cat monster" but you are not stupid enough to think you own Grim.

Or humiliated enough to suggest that he owns you, but the less chances you take at making him sneeze and wake up to a suspiciously empty dorm the better. You didn't need him storming the castle crying about how he woke up all alone and was scared wasn't invited. Not that you hadn't considered that plan together before Crewel had made it extra clear just what the consequences would be for that. The food tables are positioned close to a balcony you had spotted earlier, empty save for a piano that you swear has to be desperately out of tune.

Or at least that had been what you thought on your way in. That clearly isn't true from the song that's snapped your attention away from your mission towards it. You know the song that's being played, or at least you think you do. It causes some strange cognitive dissonance in you, you try to tell yourself that it simply can't be real, even as the words bubble up in your throat trying to make up for the missing instruments. The person playing it somehow makes the dissonance worse.

Azul, because it has to be him, no one else has eyes quite as lovely even if they seem strangely sad behind his mask, clearly is not expecting to be observed. He is far too relaxed, too caught up in some strange thought playing a jazz song so hauntingly out of place against the classical background of the Masquerade. If you were yourself tonight, you would think about reaching out to close the gap, but to do that would be to give yourself away, put you firmly in the tight grasp of his debt that you will likely be powerless to repay.

And yet, he looks to see you anyway, the edges of his lips flickering into business as he surprisingly does not stop playing. Instead he moves the piece into one he thinks "you" will recognize before finishing with a flourish.

It is all you can do to clap politely so as not to drop all pretense. "I am sorry for interrupting you." You try, but you know as well as he that disguised or not, Azul will not let you off this easily.

"Oh it's no trouble really." He stands up from the bench with a flourish. "I was just helping myself, really what were the hosts thinking leaving such a lovely piano out here all alone? It's practically begging to be played."

"Of course." You hope, not with much optimism, Azul doesn't notice you looking for an exit. The last thing you want is a reason to be more awkward around your handsome classmate than you already are. "You chose such a unique song for it too, I couldn't help but be distracted." He falters, fingers dropping back to the keys gently running over them in a strange show of emotion.

"it is isn't it." He states it, more to himself than you as you beat away the unhelpful desire to describe his playing as "out of this world," not wanting to deal with any judgment later. The look Azul has on his face can almost be described as... fond as he continues to speak more to himself than you. "A... friend of mine taught it to me. I have been practicing it for them. For tonight." You almost ask who he is referring to, afraid he might mention some other poor lost soul from another world because you certainly do not remember teaching him any music let alone that song. You have a vague memory of playing something at Floyd's request, but that had been ages ago, and Azul had certainly not been there.

At least not in your line of sight.

"I should let you get back to them then." You say lamely, hopefully Azul will pass that off as disinterest in his personal affairs and let you go. This is starting to get bad for your heart.

"They're not here sadly. No thanks to me, if only they had thought to ask for my help..." He returns to the piano, so genuinely disappointed you are almost angry at yourself for not thinking to ask this poor man who certainly only would have asked for your last dance and not your soul or first born. "It's got to be an important song to them if they remembered how to play it... right?"

Or maybe he would, just in a more romantic way. He certainly seems more focused on the phantom of you than anything else and that has to be some sort of accomplishment. It is all you can do to swallow your guilty conscious enough to leave with your disguise in tact.

Ace

"Yuu! Oi why are you running I knew you would-" Ace's hand stops just in front of you, his smile and optimism completely gone with his brain cells apparently as he retreats. "Ha, sorry." His places his hand behind his head casually, voice dropping to that similar serious tone as it had earlier in the night when he had asked for you to tell him he looked good. "Thought you were somebody else."

"Sorry." You really mean it, as much as you just want to shake off the disguise and let him know he was right that would be way too dangerous. Everyone knows you were not invited, and everyone knows his behavior around you. No matter how much your heart sings that he saw through you, it would get him into so much trouble if he was suspected of helping you in this little adventure.

"Nah it's not your fault, I'm just annoyed." Ace has apparently decided that you are his new old friend for the evening anyway, bracing himself against the pillar with a huff as you give into temptation to stay with him just a bit longer. "Seriously it is going to be such a pain later! Deuce is all like 'we should enjoy ourselves the prefect will be mad if we let them ruin it for us.' Please like I would want my friends to be celebrating when I'm not there."

"You're not your friend though." You try to not laugh as you say it because of course that's what Ace would say. You can easily picture him sulking if it had just been Deuce and you who were off to a Masquerade all while acting like he is truly not bothered as soon as you pay him any attention. "It's not like it's your fault they're not here."

"Ha, sure feels like it." He is back to being oddly serious, you can't decide if you just think the attitude doesn't suit him or are angry he is spilling his guts to a masked stranger and not the real you. He has to know you would listen, but then maybe that's the problem. "You have to have that one friend who never sticks up for themselves right? Everybody does. Just don't make the mistake of- well they're stupid difficult to look after but someone's gotta do it right? No shame if you end up liking them."

"Oh yeah of course." Ace is going to never speak to you again if he figures out this is you. Or if he knows you were thinking about him when he started complaining about having a "friend" that's hard to look after. "No shame at all, really it's annoying how much cuter it makes them."

"You get it." He nods then remembers he is supposed to be the laid back guy in your friend group and returning to his "normal" attitude. "I mean who doesn't understand that? Seriously how tropey can things get sometime, like who still falls for their best friend anymore? How stupid does life think I am- look," he claps you on the back before steeling himself to head off back to where you assume Deuce and the other members of the Heartslabyul crew are, "you see any out of place, magicless prefects you bring them right to me yeah? They owe me a dance for all the headaches they've caused me this past year. And you had best bet I intend to collect." And just like that he's gone. Off to his friends, probably to poke Riddle some to ignore just how vulnerable he decided to be tonight.

And leaving you silently screaming into the night.

Epel

"SHHHHH!" Epel's a deceptively strong guy, it's something he would probably be bragging about right now if he knew you were thinking it. Well maybe not just right now, he has his hand roughly over your mouth as his eyes dart from side to side begging that it's just Vil that's on his tail and not Rook.

Something you are equally begging god for because there is no way that freak of nature is going to not recognize you immediately. Not that you are 100% certain he would turn you in, but there is something extremely uncomfortable about being known to begin with let alone when you are supposed to be disguised. Finally, the specter of the Queen passes by your little nook and Epel lets you go with a sigh.

"M'sorry." Epel is looking up at you like a kicked puppy, you can't tell if it's intentional or he really is just that remorseful. The two of you float towards the tempting fresh air of the balcony, Epel pouting up at the sky as if he is a princess about to break into song about how boring his life is and how if he could just run away into the great yonder he would. "I just really don't want to deal with my Housewarden right now. He keeps say'n I should make the most of the night or else I'll shame Pomefiore, but I just don't care." Well that's not exactly news but still, maybe you can help him snap out of it so he doesn't get into a heap of trouble he'll be complaining about later.

"Aren't you having fun with your friends?" It's a simple first option, safe enough for you to say even though you are supposed to be a stranger. Epel lets out a somewhat predictable sigh, though the sheer force of longing hidden in the eyes you swear are almost shining is not something you expected.

"Well yeah, but a Masquerade like this is super fancy right? There's all these costumes, music fit for slow dancing, perfect thing ta' do with someone special." Epel relaxes, completely comfortable with what he's saying to a supposed stranger in supposed anonymity as if he isn't sending you spiraling with that little admission. "I was really countin' on Yuu bein here." He closes his eyes, almost as if he is imagining what he would be doing if you had been invited and weren't... sneaking around hearing him admit something he definitely did not intend to do like this.

"D-don't you want to dance?" You say it more to distract yourself than Epel, honestly you would love nothing more than to hear him talk about all the fancy things he wants to do with this allegedly special person, but you need an out before he figures things out. Before Vil figures out that Epel's really shirking things and sends Rook. Before-

"Aw yer mighty charmin' but I got my eye on someone already." before Epel makes it super clear just what it is he feels and leaves you no room for denial. You almost feel sorry for the hypothetical stranger you are, Epel looks so... happy when he talks about you. You're almost jealous of yourself. "Say, you got an eye for fancy things? It's gotta suck bein left out of the party so I wanna bring my friend somethin' special but I ain't gotta clue what to do."

"Yourself." You say softly, feather twitching just out of the corner of your eye signalling your que to leave. "If you want to bring your friend something special you should just bring yourself."

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #ace trappola x reader #epel felmier x reader #500 followers celebration #i have a love hate relationship w guilty because it used to be my alarm in college #and let me tell you there is no faster way to start to hate a song you like! do not do this <3 #also considered using in a moment's time but i am going to save that

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janaispunk · 4 months

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hi jana, congrats on 500 followers!! I'm really happy I started following you, you bring a lot of light and warmth to my feed <3

☁️ I'm gonan be the worst person ever and ask you to fmk: Dave York, Joel Miller, and Javi P (good luck soldier)

kylee 🤍 first of all, THANK YOU this absolutely made my day 🥹

second of all:

i need you, @sweetercalypso, @katiexpunk, @pedgito and @reddedmiller to stop harassing me 😤 you’ll be hearing from my lawyers.

i’ll have y’all know that i actually live in a house with joel, dave and javi, we’re all very happy, have orgies all day and nobody gets killed off. i made a moodboard for it:

#thank you for coming to my ted talk #i love you all dearly of course <3 #500 followers #follower celebration #joel miller #dave york #javier peña

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dark-nymph3t · 10 months

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hi love idk if u still do these but can u make like a dark red rockstar gf/it girl moodboard? im looking for stuff to put on my spotify playlist covers and i love ur stuff

Hi, the moodboard request event ended last Sunday but I’ll happily make one for you! I’m honored that you love my stuff and I can’t thank you enough for your support; as always, if you want me to re-do the moodboard I’ll happily do it for you <3

#girlblogger #girlblogging #girlblog #500 follower celebration #it girl #dark red #red moodboard #rockstar gf #rockstar girlfriend #dark femininity #ily <3 #ily #just girly things #this is what makes us girls #cinnamon girl #hyper feminine

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issteelballrunconfirmed · 5 months

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Day 303

Steel Ball Run is not confirmed.

Thank you for all of the support recently btw! I really appreciate it 💚

#jjba #jojo #jojo’s bizarre adventure #steel ball run #we reached over 200 followers woo!!!! don’t think i’ll make a celebration post until like. 500 or something but still!! thank you all <3

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reidsdaisies · 1 month

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Hiiii can I order a rose for soft dom Spencer with prompt 19 where its readers first time?

Also I just wanted to say CONGRATULATIONS!! You’ve come so far and I’m so happy for you!!

༉‧´ˎ˗ pairing; softdom!spencer reid x fem!reader

༉‧´ˎ˗ prompt(s); rose, 19 – “We’ll make it fit.”

༉‧´ˎ˗ content warnings; reader’s first time, spencer is patient with r, p in v sex, is it fade to black cause it doesn’t show anything after him entering?

༉‧´ˎ˗ wc; 0.3k

༉‧´ˎ˗ a/n; one rose coming right up! thank you so much the request and the kind words, it means a lot, I hope you like this<3

celebrate with me!

𝐂𝐌 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 || 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

“That,” your eyes widened, staring directly at the erection he held in his palm. He wasn’t that big, pretty average sized, maybe a little more than, from what you’ve seen and heard online/from friends, but looking at him is starting to make you realize just how real this is, “isn’t fitting in here.”

He let out a soft, amused chuckle. “You’d be surprised with what the human body can take. I promise, we’ll make it fit.”

His statement left you puzzled, for sure, but you decided to brush it off. If Spencer told you that you’ll be able to do this, you had no reason to doubt him. After a few months of dating, you finally felt ready to take this relationship to the next step. It’s a feeling you only had once before, when you were younger, until that relationship ended abruptly, but you realize now that waiting for Spencer is the best decision you unknowingly made.

“Just breathe, sweetie. You did a great job taking my fingers, and if you do feel uncomfortable, I’ll stop. You have nothing to worry about.”

“N-no, don’t stop, please do it. I’m ready, Spencer,” you assure him, your hands gently threading through the curls at the nape of his neck.

The two of you shared an exchange of small smiles as Spencer nodded in confirmation, before he guided his length into your searing heat, careful as ever as he entered you. You held your breath, trying not to make a sound as your body adjusted to this new sensation.

“Breathe, remember?”

You remembered, you had just temporarily forgotten. With his reminder, you took a deep breath in, exhaling right at the time he bottomed out inside you. Your mouth dropped open, in awe at the slightly painful, but also quite pleasurable way he stretched you.

“See, I told you it would fit,” he rasped, a soft whimper tumbling from your lips before your noises were quieted by his mouth.

#reidsdaisies 500 followers celebration #reidsdaisies #reidsdaisies spencer <3 #dr spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid #softdom!spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid criminal minds

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theghostofashton · 9 months

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wip wednesday

thank you @reyesstrand and @paperstorm for the tags!

Five months was a quiet affair, and exactly what he wanted. It was a Tuesday. He woke up in Carlos’s bed, and it was a few minutes before he remembered what day it was. They had plans to spend Carlos’s day off together. It started off with a homemade breakfast, TK sliding his arms around Carlos’s waist, tucking his chin into the crook of his neck as he watched Carlos scramble eggs at the stove. They tossed around a few ideas of what to do with the rest of the day, and ended up at The Blanton. Carlos had been wanting to go for months, and they’d found out admission was free on Tuesdays, which felt like a sign from the universe. TK isn’t a huge art person - he likes art museums, they just make him feel kind of dumb sometimes, surrounded by people discussing different styles and techniques and movements that mostly sound like they’re speaking a different language - but Carlos was excited about it and he’d spend a day doing anything with Carlos. He followed him from exhibit to exhibit, watching Carlos’s eyes light up as he read descriptions and pulled out his phone to take notes, knowing full well Carlos was the prettiest part of every one of those rooms. Carlos had taken him to his favorite food truck afterward and introduced TK to the best tacos he’s ever had (seriously, he’s had to stop himself from going back every day since), and then they got ice cream. He’d let what the day was slip on the way home, and the speed at which Carlos froze looked straight out of a cartoon. It would’ve been funny if his face didn’t immediately change to concern, apologies he would’ve never owed already starting to spill from his lips as he pulled over and shut the engine off. Carlos, TK had interrupted, firm but still light, smile remaining on his face. Today was perfect. (It was perfect. Museum and tacos and all. Watching Carlos so excited by art, taking his hand in rooms full of people and reveling in five months sober. In a life that was nothing he could have even dreamed of when he was booking the plane ticket to Austin four months ago. In the space of someone he loved, someone he was starting to think could possibly love him back.) Thank you, he’d added, hands on either side of Carlos’s face. He’d been dragged into a kiss, then, so forceful and sudden the impact felt bruising. I’m so proud of you, TK, Carlos had said after that.

i'll tag @sanjuwrites @chaotictarlos @lightningboltreader @bonheur-cafe @carlos-in-glasses and leave an open tag for anyone else who wants to join!

#this was supposed to just be set up for this scene and somehow turned into like 500 words of fluff #which i'm not mad about at all tk having the 5 month anniversary celebration he deserves <3 #my fic #neha writes

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dwindlinghaze · 4 months

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hiii lovely congrats on 500 you deserve it and so much more!! i wanna request 🩰 dancing princesses for marauders bc i want to know who someone else would ship me with for once hahah

so my gender preference is male, i love reading (especially murder mysteries, historical fiction and romcoms), i love the mcu and i've watched pretty much all of marvel movies, most of them even twice, three or more times. i'm slightly socially awkward, but i have a close knit group of friends who i'm extremely extroverted around. i'm a math and economics girl, and i love history. i'm super delusional. i'm hindu. i absolutely love travelling, my favourite places i've been to being rome, london and dubai. i'm 5'4, closer to 5'5, i have kind of golden skin and a slightly chubby face. my love languages are terms of endearment, words of affection and physical touch.

thank you!! if you can do this, that would be great! if not, that's okay too don't put too much on your plate lovely<3

helloo 🫧🤍 thank you sm for participating in my 500 celebration

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

🩰 : i ship you with james potter

╰┈➤ i think james is into murder mysteries. once he played a game of solving a murder case with the marauders and asked you for help, knowing that you must be so much better than them in the field.

╰┈➤ he'd also ask you a million question after you've finished a novel of a murder case.

"wait wait- hold on, so the brother of the man was the one getting arrested because the other guy who is supposedly the man's friend framed him? for money?" he asked bewildered, pointing his fingers in every direction accusingly in the air. "well- not exactly," you laughed and shook your head. it was a task to tell him stories because he tend to pull conclusions way too fast. it's funny though.

╰┈➤ james didn't know anything about the mcu at first before you mentioned how big of a fan you are to him. you like to tell james about the background of each avengers but it was all too confusing for him, though he's invested after watching the avengers with you. you were showing him every marvel movie in its chronological order.

he never shuts up about the modern technologies in the film. "look at that! that's so cool if you ask me. the avengers tower is absolutely ahead of time, i mean- who would ever thought about making that!" he rambled. "i know right? i want to know what's your favourite character," you questioned him. "maybe pietro maximoff?" he shrugged. (jk i don't know which one he'd like but pietro it is because yes;))

╰┈➤ when he first saw you in the light of day? he's absolutely infatuated by how beautiful you were; your skin glows golden under the sunlight. he's all over you, words falling off of his lips about how beautiful you are with his arms firmly circled around your waist.

"have i mentioned how stunning you look?" he said in awe as he watched you doing basically nothing. "thank you," you thanked him with a smile and a small kiss. his arm dropped down to your level in order for him to place his warm hand over the small of your back, rubbing them gently.

╰┈➤ travelling with him during holiday breaks to all the places you want to visit !!

"pack your bags honey 'cause we're going to rome!" he announced on a normal thursday afternoon. you were just finishing up your last bit of work and was taken aback by his surprise. "since uh- when? i mean when?" your eyes widened in disbelief yet a glint of anticipation can't be unseen. "i know you're free next week so next week," he grinned. "i've already bought tickets and booked a hotel."

╰┈➤ once you're sure the relationship is serious and committed, you will introduce him to your close friends! james loves the positive energy together with how full of joy you were around your group of friends. it makes him extremely happy being surrounded with the people you love and love you.

╰┈➤ just imagine celebrating hindu festivals with him !! he would be in awe of every single thing.

╰┈➤ james' love language is definitely words of affirmation. he loves expressing his feelings by words. sometimes they're extremely cheesy and mortifying but at the end of the day, you both know that he means well and that it's all true.

#dwindlinghaze's 500 celebration #🩰 dancing princesses #moots <3 #james potter x reader #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #marauders x reader #james potter x you

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sarahsmi13s · 5 months

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||⭐ moodboards under the tree ⭐||

hello my little cassettes!

here you can find the moodboards from my 500 follower celebration!

enjoy!! and thank you all for celebrating with me!

⭐ || cold hands, warm heart || - tim bradford

⭐ || gingerbread home || - bob floyd

⭐ || office cheer || - charlie young

⭐ || take you home in the snow || - tom kazansky

⭐ || dreams do come true || - bradley bradshaw

⭐ || take the chill out || - ron kerner

⭐ || sliding home for christmas || - ron kerner

⭐ || a hallmark homecoming || - bob floyd

⭐ || kittens and comfort || - bob floyd

⭐ || big and bright || - eddie diaz

⭐ || pjs all the way || - natasha trace

⭐ || a christmas treat || - tom kazansky

⭐ || peppermint ice-cicle || - tom kazansky

⭐ || heat of the holidays || - jake seresin

⭐ || rockin around the christmas tree || - tom kazansky

⭐ || plot twist || - natasha trace

⭐ || a mother's wish || - natasha trace

⭐ || christmas competition || - jake seresin

⭐ || baker on board || - bob floyd

⭐ || new traditions || - rhett abbott

⭐ || lattes shouldn't be minty || - charlie young

⭐ || snowball fights for (snow) angels || - pete mitchell

⭐ || everything's a game || - walt finnegan

⭐ || away for christmas || - ron kerner

⭐ || oh, deer! || - bob floyd

⭐ || a seresin christmas || - jake and sarah

⭐ || a royal winter waltz || - rhett abbott

⭐ || old recipes || - roo and rosie (bonus)

⭐ || cold blooded winter || - astarion ancunin (bonus)

⭐ || new year in new orleans || - oma-star (bonus)

#vinny's moodboards under the tree #vinny's moodboard multiverse #vinny creates #500 follower celebration #moodboard celebration #top gun #top gun maverick #the rookie #911 #outer range #baulders gate 3 #sarahsmi13s

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onawhimsicot · 5 months

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Oh!!! tangotek evil incorporated reached 3k hits on AO3 :D yippee!!!!

#im really happy :D #it was the first piece i completed in like 3 years of not really writing so the response ive gotten means a lot hehe.#like i was celebrating at 500 hits!!! I was celebrating when i got 1 comment!!#i still get comments on it here and there (i still need to respond to the most recent batch!!!) and it makes me so happy to get the notif #fic: ttei #Ive got multiple side stories for it cooking up!!! ive just been so busy lately T__T

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a-little-unsteddie · 9 months

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Happy 500! I am so happy for you 💗! For the prompt w37. famous au (i want you to go hogwild) but Argyle/Steve

the moment i saw this prompt i knew i had to fulfill it as soon as possible because!!!! permission to go hogwild!! thank you so much!! i hope you enjoy what i whipped up! (coughs this also may or may not have an alternative version that i started writing and abandoned because i thought it was too much but if you wanna see that version too i’ll finish it and post it, too!)

37. Famous AU (Steve/Argyle)

Prompts || AO3

Steve wasn’t obsessed, despite what Robin insisted. Steve just had a healthy interest, that was all. A director that simply went by ‘Argyle’ had directed so many of Steve’s favorite films, and when he had learned that the man was planning on hiring for a new film, Steve had jumped at the chance to audition. He had immediately called Robin and told her to submit his portfolio for the audition. Since then, Steve hadn’t stopped checking his emails, voice mails, DMs on various social sites, just in case he hadn’t seen the acceptance to move forward with the physical audition.

He’d also been stalking Argyle’s social media accounts just to see the goofy pictures he always posted.

Robin called him obsessed.

Honestly, even if Steve didn’t want to admit it, she was probably right. He couldn’t stop refreshing his instagram page, holding his breath for any sort of update from the director. Robin was trying to be a good manager and drag him out to some sort of party that some big wig was hosting, to make connections, but he just didn’t want to go out.

“What if Argyle’s people contact us while we’re out?” Steve asked, biting his thumbnail, looking wildly between Robin and his phone.

“Then they’ll leave a message and we can get it in the morning,” Robin said, throwing her hands in the air. Steve suddenly realized actually, maybe Robin was right, he was a little obsessed, huh? He took a deep breath, nodding.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Okay. I’ll go.” He said with another nod. Robin grinned, Steve squinted, “Why do you look so smug?”

“I do not,” Robin said, rolling her eyes. “Go change, something fancy but, like, feel free to be a whore.”

Steve let out a loud laugh at that, knowing that he had a bit of a reputation around the scene as someone who wore extravagant things. It was something he prided himself in. This time, Steve went with a sleeveless blue turtle neck that was made out of velvet, tight white jeans and a necklace made out of quartz beading. He enjoyed how the shirt showed off his broad shoulders.

“Are you finally done getting ready?” Robin asked, waiting for him by the bottom of the stairs as he exited his room.

“You can’t rush perfection, Robbie. Let’s go,” he said, brushing off imaginary lint from his shoulder. Robin rolled her eyes, walking towards the door with him where a sleek black car was waiting to take them to the party.

“Who’s even hosting the party?” Steve asked, sometime later as street lights passed them in a blur.

Robin hummed, suddenly looking nervous, “Uh, you’ll see!” She said, grinning at him. “Oh, look! We’re here!” She said, gesturing to the door that was currently being opened for them. Steve blinked, sure that they were just driving through the city moments ago. Shrugging, he stepped out, smiling at the flashing lights as he and Robin walked the short distance between the car and front door. The party had already been going for at least an hour, Steve knew, as Robin had spent most of the day trying to convince him to go and he had only agreed once the party was starting. It probably was fine that they were fashionably late.

The moment Steve entered the house, he suddenly knew exactly who was hosting the party. He leaned over to whisper into Robin’s ear.

“What the fuck?” He hissed, eyes darting around the semi-familiar decorating. Steve had seen it often enough on Argyle’s feed, or on a documentary that had been done on his directing style.

“Well! Someone had to make sure you didn’t panic about tonight!” Robin said, holding his elbow, smiling at some of the other celebrities that had made an appearance tonight.

Steve was cut off from responding when suddenly a loud, serene voice greeted them, “My dudes! You made it!” The voice said, to which Steve turned and came face-to-face with the man he had been lowkey obsessing over the last several weeks.

Steve forced a smile onto his face, hoping that it adequately hid the all-consuming panic that washed over him. “Of course, sorry we’re late,” Steve said, looking at the other man sheepishly. Argyle was wearing a bright outfit, something that he was normally seen in, so it wasn’t something that particularly surprised Steve to see.

“No worries, man,” Argyle said, smiling at Steve in a way that let him know that the director was definitely partaking in something. “Just glad you could make it, Stevie, can I call you Stevie?” He asked imploringly, looking completely at ease, which Steve found himself jealous of because it felt as though his heart was beating so hard it had to be visible—at least audible.

Steve felt his cheeks heating at the nickname, a shyer smile overtaking his features as he responded, “That’s fine,” he confirmed softly.

“Sweet,” Argyle said, pulling him into a hug, which caused Steve to freeze before wrapping his arms around the other man as well. He blinked rapidly as the man pulled back with a smile, “Let me show you around, Stevie,” he said, before leading them away from Robin, who didn’t follow. Steve swallowed thickly, feeling completely off-kilter, like his entire world just tilted on its’ axis.

Steve found himself being shown to a quieter part of the house, where there were fewer people around. It looked as though this was reserved for people close to Argyle, which Steve figured made sense, but he was confused as to why he was being invited to this inner-sanctum, where the likes of Jonathan Byers and Eden Bringham were lounging, as well as a few others that Steve recognized from Argyle’s instagram, but didn’t remember the names of.

“Stevie, this is Jonathan, Eden, Chrissy, and Eddie,” Argyle introduced, to which everyone looked over and smiled in greeting. “Everyone, this is Steve,” he said, and Steve thought it was odd that it was already alien to hear his ‘legal’ name falling from Argyle’s lips. Unknown to Steve, Argyle had purposely introduced him to them using his proper name to avoid the others from calling Steve ‘Stevie’, wanting the nickname all to himself.

After being introduced, Argyle led him to the far side of the room, to a loveseat that was already half taken up by Eden. Argyle sat and dragged Steve down onto his lap, which, while Steve definitely didn’t mind, found himself squirming in place anyway.

“It’s good to meet you, Steve,” Eden said, smiling in the same serene way that Argyle smiled, which was a little unnerving to see on her in a way that it wasn’t on Argyle.

“You, too,” Steve returned with a smile, always polite even if he was confused. He leaned closer to Argyle’s side, “What am I doin’ down here?” He asked quietly, looking at him with open confusion. “Not that I mind,” he added after a moment.

“Well,” Argyle said, smiling at him in a way that should’ve felt absent, but wasn’t, “Robin sent in your portfolio, and I liked what I saw, so I wanted to make sure we got along, Stevie. Think of this as the audition,” he explained, which didn’t shed light on why he was in Argyle’s lap, but did sort of explain why he was invited to the inner-sanctum. He had heard that Argyle’s auditions were a bit more casual than others, but he hadn’t expected this sort of casual.

“That makes sense,” Steve said, trying to settle in his new spot. Argyle helped him get comfortable, gripping his hips and adjusting him until he was sitting between Argyle and the end of the couch, with his legs thrown over Argyle’s lap while the other man had his arm around Steve’s shoulders.

From there, conversation picked up around them and soon enough it felt as though Steve was just hanging out with a couple of friends. Steve wasn’t sure how much time had passed before Argyle checked the clock and groaned.

“Aw, bummer, I gotta make an appearance upstairs,” Argyle announced, nudging Steve slightly to get off.

“I can join you,” he offered with an easy smile, “make it a little less unbearable?”

Argyle’s face brightened, “Perfect, Stevie. Let us go,” he said, offering his arm. Steve flushed, grabbing it.

They made their rounds, making small talk with a few of the guests, making sure that they were making appearances in a few different conversations. It was the most boring part of the night, but Steve didn’t mind. He didn’t particularly understand how he got there—hanging off the arm of Argyle, but he didn’t mind being the pretty thing on this particular arm. Eventually, they were able to escape, this time out to the balcony rather than the basement.

“Wow,” Steve breathed, taking in the view, “that’s gorgeous.” Argyle glanced at him and smiled.

“Almost as gorgeous as you, Stevie.”

Steve turned to him in surprise, feeling heat flood his cheeks. He smiled shyly, which Argyle easily returned with confidence.

“Thank you,” Steve breathed, turning to look back out at the view. He felt Argyle move to stand behind him, wrapping one arm around him and the other rest on the railing in front of them.

“What are the chances of a date, Stevie?” Argyle asked, with a confidence that Steve envied.

“With me?” Steve asked, needing to be sure. Argyle hummed affirmatively. “I’d say they’re pretty good,” he admitted softly, smiling as Argyle cheered in his ear.

“Then, will you go on a date with me, Stevie?”

“Absolutely.”

Steve was definitely obsessed.

#seriously thank you sm for your support #you’re one of the earliest blogs i remember seeing frequently in my notes #and now we’re here :)#i adore you <3 #steve harrington #argyle st #argyle #steve x argyle #unsteddie writes #unsteddie asks #500 followers celebration

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