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finntheehumaneater · 4 months

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from the prompts lists for a lil steddie sickfic 👉👈 bonus points if you can get an uncle wayne cameo in there too lmao

“I’m gonna be sick.” & “Look at me - just breathe, okay?”

hallo, liebe!!! I had way too much fun with this. I want to make this universe its own thing. Everybody send me asks about this I want to talk about my domestic steddie AU please, I love them so much.

(All ask prompt lists are in my pinned posts, and sorry for any mistakes, most of this was copied and pasted from photos of notebook paper, and it does not like my handwriting lmao)

TW: throwing up

Ozzy only liked to eat if someone was watching him. Steve said it was because he wanted to feel safe and protected, but Eddie knew it was because he was an attention whore.

He was currently perched on top of the table, his black tail swiping impatiently as he meowed at Eddie—not pawing the open laptop closed yet, but it looked like he was thinking about it.

“M'doing work, babe,” Eddie muttered gently, reaching out to pet the cat but he ducked away. He rifled through his notes again, trying to remember what name he and Steve had decided for the elven lord. Steve didn’t normally help with Eddie's novel—said he didn't know enough about fantasy and the like, and he didn't want to ruin it—but he had sat down with Eddie on the couch and looked through lists of Welsh names until he found one he thought sounded fit for an elven lord.

And Eddie had agreed, it was a name fit for an elven lord, but he couldn't remember, and he just needed to find the stupid paper with the character names—

Meow!

Eddie's eyes moved back to the cat, and that added on top of the stress of writing made something inside of him snap. “Ozzy, babe. I’m working.”

The cat shied away, his ears flattening and his eyes widening. Eddie ran a hand down his face.This wasn't worth yelling at his cat over.

“Oz…” he closed the laptop and picked up the cat, carrying him to the laundry room. They kept his food on top of the dryer, because when he and Steve had moved in (what... three years ago?) Ozzy had decided that the laundry room was his room, and that people could only actually do the laundry if he liked them.

Eddie set Ozzy down in front of the food dish and pressed a kiss to his side before going to get the hampers from his and Steve's (and Wayne’s) room.

Wayne had been living with them since they had bought the house, and he had lived with them in their apartment before that. he was in charge of doing the “adult things”, even though Eddie and Steve were nearing (thirty twenty-seven for Steve and twenty-eight for Eddie, although Eddie was almost twenty-nine), because Steve's memory couldn't be trusted for things he wasn't one hundred percent in on, and Eddie just couldn't be trusted to do most things on his own. He would much rather be writing.

Wayne still worked as a mechanic, downtown, but this time he liked his job. He'd never leave if he could, but that meant that he wouldn't get to watch baseball with Steve.

Eddie swore that sometimes it felt like Wayne loved Steve more than him.

Steve was working as a teacher—middle schoolers—and he hadn't been doing it for all that long, but the kids loved him. And he loved them back. Especially one girl named Hayden, because he said she reminded him of Max (Max worked with Gareth at a bookstore a little while away. They shared an apartment, and Max didn't really "work" at the store, seeing how her eyesight fluctuated, but Gareth didn’t mind the company)

And then there was Eddie. Who wrote. The whole rockstar thing hadn't really worked out for him, but he and the guys still got together to play whenever Grant and Jeff were in town.

He was working on his hovel, and he hated every second of it. Sure, he loved writing, but writing an entire-ass-novel was hard.

"It's basically a Lord Of The Rings fanfiction!" He had sobbed to steve one night in bed after he had finally (after six months) finished the rough draft for the outline. “I hate it.”

Steve had just hummed in acknowledgment for a moment, half-curled around Eddie with the messy papers in his hands. "Isn't everything based off of something?"

Eddie had shrugged, keeping his face tucked into Steve’s neck.

“I like Ophelia.” Steve had whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of Eddie's head. "Isn't she the one that stabs the guy with the horns?"

Eddie tried to hum an “mhm” of confirmation, but it came as more of a whine of despair.

“The drawings you did of her for El were pretty,” Steve had continued, his voice gentle and patient in a way that Eddie adored as he nudged his nose into Eddie's hair a bit more. "You should show her these on Sunday when she and her friend Maya come to visit." Eddie had. And honestly? Aside from Steve and Wayne, El was the only reason the novel was even being made. He wouldn't be able to even open his laptop without her nagging and consistent support over the phone.

She lived up north near Jonathan and Argyle, somewhere near New York, and she drove out with her roommate to visit him and Steve occasionally.

Eddie blinked when Ozzy meowed again, rubbing against his flannel pajama pants he hadn't changed out of yet. "All done, bud?" Ozzy didn't answer.

Sometimes Eddie felt like he was going insane, talking to his cat.

He put in the detergent and made sure the clothes were spiraled so that they would wash better, before turning it on, the clear lid closed. He didn’t know what buttons to press, but he knew what noise they were supposed to make and in what order. Steve was normally in charge of laundry, but most of the kids had presentations to do, and the other half were doing theirs tomorrow. He’d probably be too tired to do the laundry when he got home.

Eddie heard the door open and close, and he assumed it was Steve, because Wayne wasn't supposed to be home for another hour or two.

"Stevie?" Eddie called out, and he kept talking when he didn't get an answer, because sometimes Steve got home and had what Eddie called Quiet Time, where he would just stay silent and listen to Eddie talk for a while before taking a shower and maybe having a nap." You want any apple? I had one just before you got here, but I left the peels on a bowl on the table, because I love you and things you like, even though it's weird. There’s seltzer too, but it's probably still warm because I only put them in the fridge like…fifteen minutes ago. Might be fine if you put ice in it, though.”

Eddie knew something was wrong even before Steve shuffled into the kitchen—all hunched over, his eyes rimmed red and his cheeks wet, glasses perched low on his nose, nearly slipping off of his face—because there were no arms wrapped around his waist, no face pressed into his neck, and no Robin Buckley perched on his counter.

She had been driving Steve to and from... basically everywhere since he had gotten his license taken away. The doctors—and anyone—didn't trust him to drive with his seizures. It had taken Steve a while to get used to not being everyone's personal chauffeur anymore.

"You okay, babes?" Eddie asked softly, concern seeping into his tone as Steve leaned against the doorframe.

"I feel like I'm gonna be sick,” Steve choked out, his voice strained.

“Oh, sweetheart...did one of your kids get you sick? "Eddie asked, taking Steve’s glasses off and setting them onto the kitchen counter before cupping his elbow and helping him over to the bathroom.

He gently pushed Steve down to kneel in front of the toilet, tugging his hair up and out of his face. It wouldn't have gotten in the way, but it looked adorable when all of the fringe that would normally sweep over his forehead in its coif was gathered up in a little ponytail on top of his head.

As much as Eddie would always be there for Steve, he still made a face and cringed away slightly when Steve threw up, smoothing his hand up and down Steve's spine and shoulders as Steve gagged and sobbed between painful-sounding heaves.

Eddie slipped off Steve's jacket when he went limp in his arms, reaching over to flush the toilet. “Shower?”

Steve shook his head, his face contorting into something pathetic that made Eddie’s heart tug.

"What's the matter, baby? "Eddie murmured, wrapping his arms around Steve's waist, his chin tucked over Steve's shoulder. He'd make Steve get up and brush his teeth in a bit after he had sat and rested. He was still shaking, so Eddie doubted he would be able to stand okay right then.

“I’ll have to call in sick tomorrow,” Steve gasped, shaking his head. “I won’t be able to go in.”

“You don’t want to stay home and rest? Darling, I love you and you are so beautiful, but you look like death right now. You’re more pale than me.”

“Liam has his presentation tomorrow. I have to be there! H-he has a hard time speaking, and—a-and I don’t want him to be nervous. I promised him I’d be there for him,” Steve said, his voice broken and desperate, and God, Eddie was so in love with man that it physically hurt.

Steve was so kind, and caring, and sweet, and compassionate, and the list just went on, and on, and on.

“Look at me,” Eddie whispered, his fingers brushing over Steve’s stomach. “Just breathe, okay? Liam will be okay.”

Steve shook his head again, his breath shaky and his hands gripping at Eddie’s arms like he was scared to let go. He looked like he was going to throw up again if he didn’t calm down, and didn’t want him to have to go through that anymore.

“Liam will be okay,” Eddie repeated, his voice a bit more firm as he pressed a hand gently to Steve’s chest. “Breathe.”

Steve did breathe, but his voice was still shaking, and Eddie’s hand went up and down with each movement. “I promised him…”

“I know you promised him,” Eddie whispered, pressing a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “But you can’t control these things. He’ll be alright, baby, he’s a good kid.”

Eventually, Steve’s hands loosened and slid up to Eddie’s shoulders. He pushed himself to stand, and Eddie followed after him. “I’m…I’m okay now.”

“You’re okay,” Eddie parroted back, rubbing Steve’s arm up and down as Steve got his toothbrush out of the mug Wayne had put in the bathroom shelf. It was for some fishing company in the Adirondacks that Eddie had never heard of.

The door creaked open just a bit more than it already was and in strolled Ozzy, meowing lightly. Eddie picked him up when he stood to paw at his thigh, cooing, “Aw, there’s my baby…”

He pressed a kiss to the top of Ozzy’s head, and the cat meowed in protest, now seeing it be a bit against his original plan of being cradled and snug in Eddie’s arms if it meant he had to be kissed.

The poor thing lived a very hard life.

“M’thought I was your baby,” Steve muttered around his toothbrush, and Eddie rolled his eyes, gently knocking his hip into Steve’s, kissing Ozzy’s head again as he squirmed and tried to escape the confines of Eddie’s arms.

“I can have more than one baby,” he said, and then his voice turned more serious. “Oh, shit, I have to call Nance and tell her that we can’t have Megan over tomorrow afternoon.”

Megan was Nancy’s three year old daughter, and she was lovely, but she was stubborn.

Steve’s face crumpled slightly as he washed the toothbrush off, and Eddie watched him try to hide it by pinching at his nose and sighing. “I’m so sorry, Eds, this is ruining all of our plans…”

“Hey, no,” Eddie set Ozzy down when he started to kick at his arm, biting at the sleeve of his t-shirt. “Steve, honey…”

Steve’s eyes were glassy again when Eddie finally got him to look at him. “I hate being sick,” he practically whimpered, his expression pleading, and fuck—if Eddie could make him feel better he would, but that wasn’t really an option.

“I know, sweet thing,” Eddie murmured sympathetically, pressing a kiss to Steve’s knuckles. “You wanna go and lay down? I’ll get you some Tylenol?”

Steve nodded and Eddie helped him to bed, getting him changed even though he could do it himself. He got Steve the pill and some water and told him that if he wanted to shower when he woke up he could, but the water couldn’t be hot in case he passed out again, like he had the last time he was sick. Head injuries with Steve were no joke.

He got Steve’s bag from where he had left it by the front door when he had come in, then switched the laundry over and when he was just sitting down to work again, Wayne got home.

“You’re early.”

Wayne shrugged, picking up one of the apple peels out of the bowl and popping it into his mouth. “Katie forced me to come back before I started workin’ on another car.”

“Hm,” Eddie hummed, opening the laptop. “Steve got home sick, so be nice.”

“M’always nice.”

Eddie sighed, shaking his head slightly with a smile before getting back to work.

Steve hadn’t wanted Eddie to sleep with him in case he got sick, too—offering to sleep on the couch instead so that Eddie could have the bed, but Eddie had very lovingly said “fuck no” to that. He was curled around Steve, nose pressed into the sweaty hair on the back of Steve’s neck.

Wayne was out on their neighbor’s porch smoking, and Ozzy was put away in the laundry room (his cat house had been moved there before Eddie crawled into bed, he wasn’t evil) so that he wouldn’t wake everyone up at four in the morning.

There was a trash can by the bed, because Steve had thrown up again after dinner, even though he had barely eaten anything.

“How much did you write today?” Steve whispered, voice scratchy and hoarse

“You’re supposed to be sleeping, babes,” Eddie muttered, pressing a kiss to Steve’s shoulder.

“But how much?”

“Three thousand, maybe. Maybe a bit less.”

“That’s a lot.”

“Debatable.”

Steve laughed, then coughed, wincing.

“Go to sleep,” Eddie whispered, his lips brushing against Steve’s skin.

Steve still had that ridiculous ponytail on top of his head. Either he didn’t know it was there still, or he had finally come around to realizing how adorable it was.

(More of this au, and the Doemstic!Steddie AU MasterList) Permanent taglist: @anne-bennett-cosplayer @estrellami-1 @here4thetrama @goodolefashionedloverboi @gregre369

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awhphooey · 2 years

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Rise of the tmnt redesigns/au bc they are my babies

I already analyzed their designs on discord so if anyone wants that I can just copy paste it for ya

#please I’m begging you to ask me questions about them oh my god #I adore them more than life itself and I need to talk about them #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt raph #tmnt leonardo #tmnt mikey #tmnt donnie #redesign #rottmnt au #tmnt au

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mhaikkun · 10 months

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CRIME CITY

definitely gonna clean this post up once I have all my character profiles confirmed and make a more formal story introduction, but I thought I'd do a fun little update on all the characters we've met already as well as a general overview of the plot!

crime city follows winter, florist by day and ruthless murderer by night, in a city ruled by criminals each time the sun sets. the mayor? law enforcement? decorative. useless.

in order to achieve his own goals, child prodigy-turned-crime lord winter lies, steals, and kills — and, when the occasion calls for it, enlists the help of the many outlaws on his list of acquaintances.

but winter, too, is being hunted.

here are the current cast:

WINTER (THE RAVEN)

there are only three things anyone can ever claim to know about him: one, he always smiles; two, he is always dangerous; and three, he always wears black. is he mourning someone?

revered as "the king of hell," this strange ghostly man hates rain, doesn't drink, and used to be a detective.

BRENDOLINE BARBARA (THE LADY)

the mayor's daughter. frustrated by her own powerlessness and the facade of her father's position, she became a vigilante. winter must be destroyed, and, as the saying goes, if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.

how hard can it be when you find yourself falling in love with the man you want to kill, and who wants to kill you?

GIOVANNI MERCURO (THE SNITCH)

a croupier who runs the "snake eyes" gambling house, giovanni will glady offer you valuable information — that is, of course, if you can win against him. if he likes you enough, maybe his sleight of hand will come in handy for your pickpocketing needs.

believing it to be the height of carelessness to be complacent and predictable in a city crawling with vermin, he refuses to be consistent. he never wears the same hairstyle twice, never plays the same game twice, and never sleeps with the same person twice.

ASHCROFT (THE SNIPER)

a hitman for hire with the air of someone who used to be noble. rarely getting jobs due to his exorbitant prices, when he's out of money and out of work, he plays the saxophone on street corners and in bars for loose change.

as far as assassins go, he's pretty resourceful. after all, his sax doubles as a sniper rifle.

FALK (THE BLOODHOUND)

hates tardiness and thinks dogs are annoying and difficult. he does not appreciate the irony of his criminal title.

once a military man, an inflicted injury forced him to develop his already keen sense of smell into the formidable skill he has today of hunting people down using only their scent to compensate for his impaired vision.

#crime city #original character #oc #mhai art #mhai oc #I am Begging you to ask me questions abt them HSDJKSDFHJKSDFS #they're on my mind literally all the time

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kingofmyborrowedheart · 9 months

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Since we are *officially* in the lead up to 1989 (Taylor’s Version) I’m going to need someone to ask her to explain what the hell that Colbert interview back in 2021 was all about.

#taylor swift #1989 tv #somebody please ask her this I’m begging you #if you let me interview Taylor I will ask the questions that swifties want to know the answers to

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givemewallywestorgivemedeath · 6 months

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Growing up in an extremely ultra religious, cult-like family was a mindfuck for multiple reasons but that doesn't stop unfortunately, even when you escape. For example, see: The overwhelming feeling of boiling hatred and shame for who you used to be.

The angry hatred for the past person I used to be, the version of myself that mindlessly parroted my family's beliefs and listened to their every command, constantly simmered under my skin and invaded my every thought. I was embarrassed of what I used to be- even as I made friends of different ethnicities and faiths, as I listened and explored new ideas and worlds that I never knew existed, as I started the first LGBTQ+ club at my school and volunteered with kids who deserved so much more- there was always a little voice in the back of my head.

"They would hate you if they knew what you were. They would hate the horrendous teachings that were seared into your mind, the things that you used to say and believe. You are nothing but a pretender."

And it is true that my beliefs were bigoted in all the worst ways. It is true that I believed truly heart-wrenching things without a second thought and judged others in such harsh and unfair ways. I told myself that there was no coming back from that, not really. There was nothing I could do to ever make up for it.

Then I remembered that the person who said those things wore velcro light up sneakers and collected finger puppets that the librarians handed out as awards for reading picture books. The person that held signs at pro-life rallies and anti-LGBTQ+ protests had a cherished sticker book and hunted minnows in the creek after school and adored their puffle on club penguin and was really into greek mythology and had skinned knees from climbing trees at recess and knew every Disney song by heart and was absolutely terrified of the dark.

That person was a child.

I was a child.

It took a really long time. Years and years of reflection and distance, but I've decided that I can't hate the past version of myself anymore. I feel pity and remorse, I feel anger- I feel so much fury and violent rage- at what my childhood was and I grieve what could- no, should- have been, but I no longer resent who I was.

I'm not ashamed.

I am so, so, so unbelievably proud of that little kid. For being brave enough to leave the comfort and safety of what I was told was right. For not being afraid to be wrong. For seeking out information and knowledge in a culture that praised ignorance. For questioning everything, relentlessly.

I am by no means a perfect person, I never have been and I never will, but I am proud of myself in every iteration that has ever existed because I know that I have never stopped trying to understand and learn and grow, and I never will.

If you have ever been in a similar situation and feel similar things, first of all: My condolences on your lost childhood. Second of all: Please be nice to that past version of yourself and recognize all the hard work they did to make you who you are today. That person was a survivor and an inspiration. They deserve nothing but love.

#started anti depressants recently. kinda had an epiphany. i can't hate who i was. if i met me now i wouldn't blame that tiny child #for their rancid beliefs or for being dragged to protests. because thats a CHILD. i HAVE met kids in that position and i feel nothing but #pity and anger on their behalf. so why am i holding that version of myself to a higher standard?#i could not have known what i know now at 6 or 8 or 10. the same way that i could not have written a college level essay at that age #but i did what i could. in my own 8 y/o way. i believed in love and humanity and happiness. i was just misguided in the 'hows' of it all #and i am so so so so so proud. of every single microscopic step that i took. every question i asked. every thought that i hid and protected #and pondered secretly at night until new ideas and doubts bloomed like a dandelion through the pavement #and I'm so proud that i chased that doubt. that i asked why why why why until their ears bled and their voices were raw #until their answers stopped adding up. until i sought knowledge elsewhere with a mind dehydrated and malnourished and begging for knowledge #in any form i could get. i just. if i could hug that kid? if i could right now reach out and give that terrified and lonely child a hug?#i would. a million times over.#anyway sorry for the intense personal rant I'm just going through it rn and I'm like.... actually feeling alright #its wild. did you guys know about this??? anti depressants make you NOT depressed??? shits insane fam #irl #personal

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ferretwhomst · 9 months

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OKAY!!! since people seem interested in the blood brothers au i will explain the premise. if i say something dumb sounding it's because i'm tired as hell. also putting everything under the cut bc it's kinda long

(tw: suicide mentions + suicide ideation)

basically, the blood brothers au combines the parallel universe mentioned in journal 3 with the portal stan au, except it gets a bit. Dark

in the parallel universe, instead of fighting ford and pushing him into the portal, stan agrees to hide the journal somewhere far away and is never heard from again. his fate is entirely unknown to ford, who assumes the worst (and is correct to do so).

as described in j3, ford becomes world-famous and starts his institute of oddology in gravity falls. on the surface, he's a cheery man, always eager to help others, cordial towards everyone no matter what. he has everything he ever wanted in life! but ever since he lost stan, he can't bring himself to enjoy it, let alone believe he deserves it.

in the main universe, ford accidentally pushes stan into the portal and weeks later is driven to suicide by bill, who takes over gravity falls soon after.

stan keeps himself going for the next 30 years by thinking about his brother. one day he'll return and they'll reconcile, and they'll never be alone again. maybe if he's lucky they'll fulfill their childhood dream of sailing the seven seas together. in the meanwhile, stan hides these tender feelings under a tough exterior- as much as he misses ford, he can't afford to have a moment of weakness or slip up, especially with his status as a multidimensional criminal. and after 3 decades of biding his time, when he sees an opportunity to return to what seems like his universe, he takes it.

parallel ford sometimes spends his nights in the basement, sitting in front of an activated portal. he stares into its depths and thinks about what would happen if he entered it right now. he could die a thousand awful deaths. he could find a world where stan is still around. of course, he wouldn't dare, not with an entire institute to run and children in his care, but it doesn't hurt to indulge in those thoughts.

one night, the alarms on the nearby machinery begin to go off. it's late at night, and ford is at a low point. for all he cares, the portal could blow up and take him with it. he doesn't budge

what he doesn't expect is for his very own "brother" to emerge from the portal soon after, looking positively furious.