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wilteddreamsofbaldursgate · 4 months

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New dad Astarion who is about to see his newborn child for the first time.

Of course, he expects his child to be the personification of serene beauty and divine grace. Them to have their father’s silken silvern locks, his immaculately chiselled features—the artwork perfected by Tav’s wonderful watercolour eyes…

And then he actually sees the child and—well—everybody assures him that, yes, Astarion, all babies look like that barely a half hour after birth…

He kind of has to take that at face value because he hasn’t seen an awful lot of newborns in his lifetime.

But it would’ve been nice if someone had told him that newborns happen to look like shrivelled potatoes, because he’s really, really trying to not let his bewilderment show.

Astarion swallows.

Tav’s beautiful eyes are watching him, waiting for a reaction—an enthusiastic one, no less.

Maybe Tav will believe that he’s overcome with emotions at seeing his firstborn child?

“Oh my, darling, I’m…speechless,” is all he can choke out, though, being rather proud that it’s at least not a lie.

To his luck, Tav only nods dreamily, her full attention back on the odd little bundle in her arms.

“Isn’t she perfect?”

Yes, perfectly hideous.

Astarion only hums in a way of reply.

That—his daughter, he supposes—is with no doubt one of the ugliest things he’s ever seen, but he has a feeling that his honesty wouldn’t be appreciated after Tav laboured for hours to give birth to this…potato-baby.

“Come, hold her, Astarion,” Tav says, then, bidding him to sit next to her on the bed.

The mattress shifts under Astarion’s weight and he obediently holds his arms out so that Tav can gently place the sleeping child against his chest.

Now that Astarion can take a better look, he can confirm that his daughter’s hair is of an indefinable colour and that her features are neither his nor Tav’s, plain as can be. Surely it won’t stay like that?

He and Tav are so ridiculously beautiful, their child can only be drop-dead gorgeous, right?

Astarion’s stomach drops indeed when, suddenly, something occurs to him.

Oh dear, what if it’s his fault? He has no recollection of his family whatsoever; it’s very much possible that he and his immaculate looks are the exception in his lineage, and that he’s passed on only those mysterious less-than-perfect genes…Tav, as per usual, can’t be the issue!

Astarion is still catastrophizing when the bundle in his arms begins to stir.

All of a sudden, gold-speckled pale green eyes are looking up at him as if to ask what the fuck this weirdo’s problem might be.

“Oh,” the weirdo in question exclaims at once. “Darling, look, she has your eyes!”

Tav, hugging him from behind, rests her chin on his shoulder, so she can watch as Astarion’s finger tenderly strokes their baby’s chubby cheek.

Their daughter also has, as it turns out, ten fingers and toes, a cute little nose and a hungry mouth—everything that’s supposed to be there is there, and it seems to be working fine, too—which is a huge relief.

And aren’t those the tiniest pointy ears Astarion has ever seen? Let alone the unexpectedly strong fingers grasping at his!

Astarion, worries forgotten in a heartbeat, can’t help but smile at the baby in his arms.

She is perfect, after all.

Tav, face hidden in the crook of his neck, begins to tremble against his back.

For a second, Astarion thinks she’s crying but then her laughter fills the chamber. It takes her a good moment to articulate whatever it is she finds so very funny.

“She'll grow out of it, you know?” Tav giggles in between her fits of laughter.

Astarion stiffens. “Of what?”

“The turnip look. That’s what you’ve been worrying about the whole time, haven't you?”

“I was leaning more towards potatoes—but yes, I might’ve been a little worried about that,” Astarion admits sheepishly, although a grin is already tugging at his lips.

Regaining her composure, Tav reaches over Astarion’s shoulder, her hand joining his as they get to know their child.

“Give it a couple of days and she will look like your proper little elf—beautiful just like her father.”

A content sigh leaves Astarion’s lips, right before he presses them against Tav’s temple.

“That’s the second best news I’ve heard today, my heart, truly.”

#astarion #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #dadstarion #astarion x tav #astarion headcanons #astarion x f!tav #baldur's gate astarion #astarion ancunin #to the best worst dad #astarion father of the year every year #Inspired by Howl from Howl's Moving Castle or rather Castle in the Air #where his first words upon seeing his newborn son are “My word he's ugly!”—truly an inspirational man!#my grandma said for legal reasons i'm not allowed to call any babies ugly so these are astarion's words not mine #just so we're on the same page #emicha writes

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mylittleredgirl · 24 days

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stumbling back to the safety of the castle (star trek fandom) covered in blood from the front lines (the wiki of any other fandom that doesn't separate on-screen canon from random shit that happened in a novel once)

#babylon 5 is on today's hit list but stargate is the worst offender #because the pages for beta works literally say 'episode' in the url #like they took the time to add (episode) to each url when it could just as easily have said (book) or (some fuckin short story #that was in print for 5 minutes in 2012)#i'm not going to throw stones at wookiepedia though that's its own deal #i am not smart enough to understand the tangled web of that canon and their entries are fifty thousand words long

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literallyjusttoa · 14 days

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"Sunny!" you cry, "Why did you draw the entire Trojan royal family from oldest to youngest in two days? That seems wildly unhealthy!"

"hurghhhhhhhh" I reply.

Anyways here's the full family portrait

(Only four of these people survive the Trojan war btw :D)

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ilkkawhat · 2 months

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#alan wake #alan wake 2 #alan wake remastered #gamingedit #alanwakeedit #mk.op #mk.gifs #mk.edit #i'm sure somebody's made something like this before #damn if this isn't a mood though #best and worst thing i've done is create a spreadsheet of my word count #i did it back in 2021/2022 i think?#gave up on 2023 #started again this year #have tons of WIPs but nothing to show for it #writing

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horatiocomehome · 9 months

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Tumblr: we want people to be able to find new blogs to follow so you can find your community!

No not by seeing who people are reblogging from that's not allowed.

No you can't see who people are talking to with prev tags that's not allowed.

No you can't see the icons of the people you're following to know at a glance who's reblogging what and know them better. that's not allowed.

Sorry, did we say "find your community?" we meant "trawl through the endless swamp of the internet so you can reblog funny popular things"

#like. I'll ALLOW that at least the visual changes are something I'm opposed to just because of habit #but stop taking away tools and information. stop it stop it stop it stop it stop #also submitted a more constructively worded version of this to tumblr support under the 'feedback' option #Fucking worst part of twitter btw #not being able to access as much info as tumblr about who's reblogging what #no icons on retweets either #I fucking hate it here stop making it twitter I hate that site #from my very own mouth

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autistic-daniil-dankovsky · 5 months

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remember this? well. let's go!

both ena and an have pretty famous fathers, and it was always somewhat expected of them to be worthy of their legacy, in some way. both of them were told, "of course you're good at art - you're shinei's daughter!" and "of course you're good at singing - you're ken's daughter!" respectively.

they were always perceived via their fathers, not allowed to step outside their shadow and be seen for themselves. they couldn't be ena or an.

and, you know, for a time, they went along with it. i mean, they were good at what they were doing.

but then... all comes crashing down.

for ena, there's the obvious bullshit that's going on with shinei. completely destroying her. because she admired her father, because he was the reason she wanted to do art to begin with, and he told her to her face that she would never be good enough.

her entire world fell apart, that day.

because no matter what she says, ena wants the approval of her father more than anything else. she wants him to tell her that she's worthy of being his daughter, that all her hard work amounts to something; anything.

but then, there's the eventual revelation that she wasn't anything, actually. she wasn't special.

everyone was better than her.

before, ena was a fish in a small pond, and of course, she was among the best. but now she's been dropped in a vast ocean, and she's small, and insignificant.

devoured by all the other fish.

one of them - and admittedly, the most important of them all - being futaba. she joined after ena, but she proved herself in much less time than her. and, even succeeded where ena failed - she never gave up, even when she was harshly criticised. never regressing artistically. never running away from art.

and there's something else, somewhere deep down - a fear. a fear that nightcord will abandon her when they realise she can't keep up with them. that she's not as good as they thought she was.

what will happen of her, then? she'll be all alone. unloved.

an goes through something similar.

she meets kohane, and she decides that this person is going to be her partner. that they're going to surpass THE rad weekend together, that no one could be better for this task but her.

but when she starts that relationship, it's with the assumption that she'll always be the teacher and that kohane will always be the student.

not in a mean, or pretentious way, no, not at all. simply, an was always told there was no way she couldn't surpass rad weekend, since she was ken's daughter. in her small pond, she was also among the very best.

but then, an realises something, too.

kohane is much better at everything than she is.

very similarly to ena's situation with futaba, kohane made much more progress in barely a year than an has in years. taiga - one of the old RADers, and somewhat of an uncle for an - recognised her potential, and asked to train her. not an, but kohane.

and of course, an is happy to know that! because that's her partner and friend, and an is happy to see her grow more confident and get better every day. because she cares. because she loves her.

but there's something in her chest - something that hurts and aches. she has to face the fact that she's not as good as she thought she was, that she isn't worthy of her father's legacy. that she isn't worthy of being kohane's partner, that she might be holding her back.

that she might be abandoned. left behind to rot.

what will happen of her, then? she'll be all alone. unloved.

to me - ena and an are two kids suffering under the weight of a legacy that's too heavy for them to carry, but that they can't let go of. they're also struggling with seeing their peers succeed where they repeatedly fail. they're all about being terrified of being abandoned because they're not good enough.

they're both confronted by this fact.

and it terrorises them.

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heymrspatel · 10 months

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can we talk about this real quick? like can we talk about how ian's just lying there looking at his husband in their new space? were they chatting? quiet pillow talk? were they just being quiet and ian was taking it upon himself to fondly observe him? thank you for your time.

ray. you come into my house with this? fully knowing? the effect? it's going? to HAAAVE?! i see how it is...

i think it's a mix of all. i think they're absolutely floating in the afterglow. just taking their time coming down. caressing. quietly talking. taking their time with what they want to say. conversations about anything and nothing. "do you want pancakes tomorrow?" and "we have an easy work day planned" and "i loved how you touched me tonight" and "kiss me" slow, soft. little smooches. little giggles. long stares. easy smiles. heavy sighs. a 'baby' here. a 'big guy' there. i love you, i love you, i love you.

but, i know ian also took his time looking. just going over all those features he already has memorized. mickey's straight nose, his long eyelashes, his eyebrows currently at rest, his freckles. so many! lighter than ian's, but there all the same. his shiny black hair, his ears, his neck - faintly marked - beautiful, collarbone, shoulders, chest, belly, down down down... ian's hands slowly touching everything he's looking at. with his fingers tips, feather soft. mickey all floaty and glowy and warm, accepting it all.

so, yea. i think everything, softly and slowly.

#eepy baby! i'm fully wondering if you're still awake and are going to see this lol but here it goes 🤞🏼#i wont yell at you for dropping this in my lap cause shhhh you're sleepy - maybe tomorrow 💙#but thank you for making me lose it more than i already had upon seeing this gifset. i've seen what god has done for others. i simply ask..#i love YOU! you get my silly words #also i would love for tumblr to stop deleting my ray tags. out of all the things this website has done. this is the worst.#whatthebodygraspsnot #asks #shameless #gallavich #ian x mickey #j ramble drabbles

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yasmeensh · 3 months

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Story update

I got to write a good chunk of the opening these past two days. Excited to get more work done over March break. And I can't wait to get to writing more about my daughter T-T But she comes in a bit later in the story. Still in the first act, though.

Some more character design doodles:

#personal project #paleolithic #neanderthal #prehistory #I've been SO BUSY #being a school teacher is so difficult....#especially with 6-7 year olds. why did I end up with the worst age group #they are angels and devils SIMULTANIOUSLY.#I felt my soul leave my body this week. two of the grade 2 boys dropped f bombs. i was SO SHOCKED. this word could never leave my mouth eve #AND THESE BABIES ARE SAYING IT!!???#but being a school teacher means you also get school breaks soooo MARCH BREAK LETS GO!!!#First thing I did: write more of the story and go ham with splatoon #the big run was so fun. I still couldn't break through to silver.... :'(#I don't know if I'll get much drawing done. I've been in a zelda 2 mood again. Maybe some zelda 2 art #I need to get back to finishing the remaster! I'm on maze island now.#but on the agenda for SURE is to get the opening of the story done and out of the way so I can start writing the REAL fun stuff #It's taking a while.#rambling again :P #oh and ramadan mubarak! tomorrow is the first day of fasting.

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hajihiko · 5 months

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You seem to know a lot of things that are good for anxiety, tell us more

it's really only what I've looked up, I'm not a professional nor have I really been to those in a way that counts (so don't take me too seriously!)

That said I do have a lot of stuff I figured on my own lol

deep breathing helps like actually, and I personally have a little self-soothing gesture I do sometimes (like idk... shaking out your shoulders maybe?) and a little phrase that helps me. The phrase changes, recently it's "not everything is always the worst" for when I start doomthinking or imagining the worst scenario. So something to that extent maybe (remind me to link a comic by toastyglow when I'm not about to sleep).

Talking to yourself out loud might actually help since you can't talk as fast as you think so you end up sort of realizing how ridiculous or frantic or unreasonable your thoughts sound out loud.

Lessen sensory input (go there. In the dark. Go in the dark) and oh uh stand really firmly on the ground (no shoes if possible) and imagine and feel your whole weight on them. "Stay grounded" haha get it (for me it's good for the numb and far away feelings)

#My helpful phrase was figured out when.... You guessed it when I was stoned. It really has helped though #Because when I think something The Worst is gonna happen I say the phrase. And then the worst doesn't happen!#It wouldn't have anyway but it makes the words seem more true #not an art #A handful of things that started out as helpful ended up maladaptive tho so Watch Out #When I went to the Anxiety Professionals about Anxiety they told me I do not clinically have Anxiety so know that too #I'm just naturally neurotic babeyyy

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yandere-daydreams · 6 months

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...is there any amount of pathetic begging which will coax you into showing your final paper or...

it's solidly in the 'very clearly written in one uninterrupted eight hour session' phase of a research paper, so i tragically fear it will never see the light of day. the whole thing is sorta about examining the magical girls -> witches existentialist horror through the lens of simone de beauvoir's ethics of ambiguity, which means i'm sorta just stumbling through termology and vague quotes as i desperately try to explain the concept of magical girl anime to my very middle-aged, very male professor. right now i'm teetering between trying to explain the plot out-right and just sorta hinting at the whole 'aliens are harvesting energy from teenage lesbians by making them kill each other in pretty outfits' thing, but we're managing. my tab layout kinda communicates the vibe.

#i've given up completely on touching the timeloop shenanigans (tragically)#but on the bright side i'm physically incapable of shutting up about madoka magica at the worst of times so #that word count is getting met and then some #personal #anon ask

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fastcardotmp3 · 1 year

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Jonathan & El cw: implied past child abuse

The first time he hears her call herself bad it strikes him so hard in his sternum that he can't buck up and do something about it.

Jonathan looks at this girl, his sister, who has saved the world time and again, who had saved his brother from a slow death in a terrible place, and she lays claim to a badness that makes him feel kind of sick, actually.

It's the same feeling he got when Will started calling himself a freak, the same feeling he got when Jonathan himself first started learning to play music loud enough he couldn't hear his parents fighting in the other room, even years before he taught that trick to Will.

It's a feeling, ultimately, that swallows stability whole and leaves you to stumble across uneven ground until you find your footing again.

Jonathan just has to-- find his footing again. And that means someone needs to talk to El.

"Because I am," she says when he asks why she calls herself that, sitting at the kitchen table with two mugs of her latest culinary obsession between them-- hot chocolate.

"But what makes you think you're bad?" Jonathan asks, genuinely curious, genuinely getting thrown to the ground by the shake in the earth. "I don't think you're bad."

El presses her lips together, eyebrows low over her downturned gaze as she looks intensely at the little marshmallows sitting on top of her drink like she's trying to solve the puzzle of the world.

Jonathan supposes she kind of is, in a way, contemplating human nature after spending so many years being told what to be, how to fit within a certain set of parameters, how to behave the way Papa wanted her to.

That's another thing that gives him big feelings. Those feelings could probably be solved by caving Brenner's face in, though.

"I have hurt people," is what she lands on, still not looking up but the scowl line between her brows deepening.

And there's no denying it, she has hurt people; she's killed people, as a matter of fact, and she's watched them die, so there's no point in dodging the reality of that here, in trying to say you didn't mean to when he knows she did.

Jonathan opens his mouth and then shuts it again, though, catches himself in the act of trying to tell her that the good she's done outweighs the bad because, for one, he doesn't know if that's true, and for two, maybe it doesn't matter.

"You know," he clears his throat, elbows digging into the table and shoulders hunching up around his ears, "stories-- like Will's books and Hop's TV?-- have really obvious villains most of the time. Bad guys, right?"

El looks up at him, thinks about it, nods.

"Right."

"Okay," Jonathan keeps going, "well, that's because people have always been trying to find-- easy answers for hard things. Things like good and bad. So they created monsters who only ever hurt and heroes who only ever help.

"But, just because it helps us understand why people do bad things, it doesn't mean that-- none of it is really that-- black and white?"

"Black and white?" El questions, but she's not pushing back against him so Jonathan has hope that this is working in some way or another.

"Like, clear and obvious. Like everything has just one answer, but that's not really the case, is it?"

"No," she says with zero hesitation. "Some things are-- confusing."

"Yeah, they are. People are," he pulls his mug closer to himself and taps his fingers along the ceramic.

"So there aren't... bad people?" she looks confused, like she doesn't believe it, like she's actively losing faith in his judgement, so Jonathan shakes his head quickly.

"It's-- It's more like there are just people," he flounders. "And I really-- I don't think I've ever met a person that's only ever been good or only ever been bad."

El looks down at her hot chocolate. Grabs the can of whipped cream and sprays more on top of her cooling drink.

Doesn't take a sip.

"You've only ever been good," she says it slowly, obvious confusion still touching her tone in ways that don't even overpower the rush of emotion Jonathan gets and knowing she really feels that way about him of all people.

He breathes sharply through his nose, opens his mouth and shuts it twice before he manages to say, "I've hurt people too, El."

It's not going to be an easy thing, Jonathan thinks, making sure she understands that people are largely just the choices they make and that people are allowed to choose to change, to get better, and that the people who hurt her, the people she hurt in return, won't be missed by anyone who loves El but might be missed by someone and that no matter how complicated it is and no matter how messy and no matter how surface level wrong it may be she is still not bad.

It's not going to be an easy thing, made clear by the way she looks at him now and visibly tries to make sense of the fact that someone she had deemed as good could possibly have ever done wrong, because those people in that fucking lab drilled absolutism into her head from birth, but fuck. Fuck.

"You're just a person, is all I'm saying," he implores, because it's going to take longer than one conversation over hot chocolate to make any of it make a modicum of sense, even to him. "You're a person and we love you."

Something shakes loose in her gaze at that, a tension releasing from her shoulders, because if there's one thing Hopper and Joyce and those damn kids have done right it's making this make sense to her.

"I love you too," she tells him, and Jonathan has the self control of a saint to not start crying.

When she adds more whipped cream to her drink, he just follows her lead.

#dot post #dot fic #jonathan byers #el hopper #the byers hoppers #jonathan & el #stranger things #was going through my drafts bc I have the worst case of brain fog I'm trying to shake loose and found this half written #so have this attempt at jostling words out of my body!!#because jonathan and el deserve a sibling moment

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flowercrowngods · 1 year

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yearning hours (bonus track)

🤍 also on ao3

Seeing Steve like this always makes Eddie feel like he’s suddenly in on some secret of the universe. Like he knew nothing prior to this moment, like history is rewriting itself around the two of them just now. It makes him feel like the boy he is — young, stupid, with no idea about the world and what lies beyond, and absolutely in love with another boy.

The light of the full moon catches in his hair, painting it silver and covering him in a sheen of light that Steve knows to wear like a second skin. He’s calm out here, his legs dangling over the abyss of the quarry, his hands in his lap, his chest rising and falling steadily. Slowly. Evenly. Eddie wants to reach out and hold his hand over Steve’s heart just to feel it against his skin, just to give his own some direction; to get it right.

No frown between his brows, no tension in the line of his shoulders, no clenched jaw or balled fists.

He looks beautiful like this; a playing field for light and darkness that treat him like an old friend that comes to visit, to stay just for the night.

Steve is beautiful. And Eddie gets to watch; take it all in, the silver light on the bridge of his nose, the shadows underneath his lips, the dried trail of old tears, telling a glistening tale of the heart that combines history and future.

Eddie watches as Steve stares out at the quarry, his eyes fixed somewhere in the darkness, unaware of his surroundings as he loses himself in that freedom he makes for himself every night he is out here. The freedom he is willing to share with Eddie, apparently.

It’s a privilege. An honour. And still all Eddie can do, all he wants to do, is look at Steve and watch him and see. Justbecause he can. Because Steve won’t tell him to stop, because he won’t ask him about it, won’t duck his face or skip away from Eddie’s smile or his hands or his silent confessions whispered into his very own thoughts. Not here, not in the darkness. Not anymore.

He wants to reach out and take that hand that’s resting in Steve‘s lap, weave their fingers together and breathe a promise into the air between them. Wants to tug on that hand and make Steve fall into him, make their hearts pick up their paces because for just a fraction of a second they’ll think they’re about to lose their balance and fall. Fall down there, into the darkness, and never see the light again.

A breeze picks up around them, brushing through Steve‘s hair and making it dance in the moon light. Eddie’s eyes follow with rapt attention, but still it breaks the spell of yearning and brings a question to the forefront of his mind.

A question about calm, about darkness, about Steve and what that means.

Lifting one leg from the abyss to wrap his arms around it and give his hands something to do, something to hold, Eddie asks, “You ever think about jumping?”

Steve blinks once. Twice. Coming back from wherever he went while Eddie waits patiently and watches.

“Jumping?”

Eddie inclines his head even though Steve’s not looking. “Off. Down there. Y’know...” He trails off.

Steve blinks again, a frown between his brows redirecting the silver light on his face before he finally turns his head to look at Eddie.

“No. Not uhm... Not jumping."

Eddie takes it all in, trailing his gaze over Steve's face, searching for something he's not sure exists. This thing between them that's been growing steadily. This thing between them that has lead to quiet nights at the quarry, to Steve talking about bravery and jumping and all those things that aren't meant for daylight.

"No? What then?"

Eddie reaches for a pebble, scratching its smooth surface with the nail of his thumb because he’s feeling restless again and he needs something to anchor him. He always does, around Steve. The boy just makes him feel weightless and heavy and floating and sinking at the same time, and Eddie is always just along for the ride. Wouldn’t want to miss a second of it.

Steve musters him for a moment and Eddie can feel himself tensing up a little, aiming to seem nonchalant with the pebble in his hand, like it’s the most normal thing to do for a boy who’s not ready to be a man yet in a world that never even let him be a child. A boy who failed his senior year three times. A boy who’s endlessly in love with Steve Harrington.

The golden boy. But he’s painted in silver now in this moment shared just between the two of them. Maybe Eddie is looking for symbolism where there is none, his mind clinging to romanticisations and narratives of beauty and belonging just to defy the bleakness of the world that grownups have always been so adamantly demanding of him to believe in.

Maybe he’s blinded by infatuation, stupid and colourblind with it. Or maybe it means something that this gold-skinned boy is veiled in silver light as he’s looking at Eddie like that.

Like he sees it, too.

Like he can feel it, that something between them that’s been growing.

And Eddie feels hope rising in his chest for a second, dares to let his heart skip and jump and race, brought to life by Steve’s eyes trailing down to his lips; and falling, when the boy only huffs.

“Nothing. It’s stupid.”

Eddie hums, pleading his heart to come down, a little bit terrified that Steve would hear it for how heavily and rapidly it’s beating against his ribcage. “Tell me anyway?”

He loves it, the way Steve’s lips tug up into a smile. A shy, secret little one, illuminated and captured for all eternity by the moonlight for one second, two, before he turns his face away and looks down into the abyss again.

“I like when you do that.”

“What?”

“Tell me anyway. It’s… It makes me feel not-stupid. Or like it’s okay, you know? Like even if it’s stupid, it’s still there, still worth telling maybe. Not an empty phrase. Just… Yeah. You know I’ll tell you anyway, Ed.”

And what do you even say to that? Nothing. There’s nothing for Eddie to say because his heart is still racing against itself and winning and losing and falling ever after.

Stupidly, he offers Steve his pebble. Wondrously, Steve takes it, his fingertips lingering on Eddie’s palm, electric and tickling, and they both huff. Breathless.

“Falling,” Steve says at last.

“Hm?”

A twitch of his lips, looking over for the briefest of seconds before he focuses on Eddie’s pebble, rolling it between his fingers, placing it in the middle of his palm, and Eddie aches to take its place. To place his hand on Steve’s palm and hold him, to have Steve play with his fingers like that. To be the centre of Steve’s attention more than he already is.

“It’s not about jumping. Just falling. And trying not to.”

Eddie swallows, biting his tongue, not daring to speak now. His voice would waver, his heart would jump out and he’d be found out. So he watches. Listens. Longs.

“I’ve never…” Steve trails off and closes his fingers around the pebble. “I’ve never been good at not falling.”

It hangs in the air between them, boring into Eddie’s mind, his thoughts, his desires, and it leaves him reeling. Confused. Blinking.

Steve doesn’t elaborate, though, and Eddie feels like he’s losing his mind. He’s been there, he’s done that, and Steve always makes him feel like he’s terribly close to that, but… There was something in his voice when he said that. The same something that’s in the air when they sit together, just a tad closer than is strictly necessary or acceptable. The same something that floats between them when their eyes meet and neither of them looks away — until they have to, with pink-tinted smiles on their faces.

This something that is reserved in the universe; reserved for them. Reserved for Eddie and his crush that has turned into a flame, a bonfire that keeps him warm and sustained and safe so long as he doesn’t touch it. Reserved for Steve and the way he doesn’t duck his head to hide his smile anymore, the way he started laughing more around Eddie, and the way he always finds excuses to touch him, to linger, to stay.

And so, with a voice that doesn’t quite feel like his, he asks, “Why are you trying not to fall?”

“Because…” He shrugs, frowning at the pebble. “Because the landing always hurts, Eddie.”

And I’ve already hurt so much. I’m already hurting so much. Can’t you see it? It goes unsaid, but it’s spoken still with the tiny shrug, with the tone of resignation, and the way his voice breaks on Eddie’s name.

It breaks something inside Eddie, too.

“Steve,” he whispers. Thought that if he said his name, it would be unbroken. It’s not, though, it’s just a name that hangs in the air now.

Steve puts away the pebble, laying it gently between them, and Eddie feels colder for it. “Told you it was stupid.”

“It’s not,” he hurries to reassure him, insistent and desperate for Steve to believe him. “I’m not judging or anything, shit, Stevie, I’m just…”

“Just?”

Just thinking that I would catch you. Just longing to fall with you. Not just for you. Always, always for you, though.

But it’s too much; the words are bubbling inside him, too close to the surface, ready to break out and face the world, but Eddie swallows thickly until they lose their momentum.

So he shakes his head and breathes deeply. Watches as Steve’s shoulders fall slightly as tension bleeds out of them. Maybe it’s better for the words to stay where they are. Unsaid. Secret.

He wants to take the pebble back, but he feels paralysed. Maybe it’s one secret too many. Maybe it’s what will break him, them, this something between them.

But looking at Steve now, streaked in silver and a loneliness that wasn’t there before, something settles inside him.

“I would catch you,” he says, like it’s that simple. “Give it all to find a way. It sounds cheesy as fuck, and maybe it is, but Jesus, Stevie.” His voice is small, gentle like he’s never really heard it out of his own mouth, and he reaches out to tuck a strand of Steve’s hair behind his ear. It was never out of place, he just felt this ache he needed to soothe. Just wanted to touch Steve. He always wants to touch him. “I would find a way.”

Steve looks at him, meets his eyes over the thrum of darkness and secrets, over the terrifying petrification that seems to have overcome them both, and over the hitching breaths and skipping hearts that guide the hand of fate.

“Why?” he breathes. Like it’s just a word. Like it’s not Eddie’s entire heart and soul laid bare, Steve’s name embedded in weeks and months and years of simile and symbolism, deeply ingrained in his every thought now.

“Because I want to,” Eddie says. Like it’s that easy. He leans forward, falling toward Steve to rest his head on Steve’s shoulder and being the one to hide now. “God, I want to.”

It’s a whisper, but Steve’s shaking underneath him. Eddie is ready to bolt, ready to run, his hands wrapped around his middle protectively just in case he’s misreading all of this spectacularly. Hoping and aching and pleading that he isn’t.

“Eddie,” Steve breathes, but doesn’t move away from him. He sounds a little lost with it, and Eddie is reminded of the hurt, broken little sound that was his name just moments earlier. It makes him snake his hand out from under himself to lay it on Steve’s thigh, palm up. Inviting. Offering. “You can’t just say shit like that, man.”

Eddie huffs a breath he wasn’t aware he still had in his lungs when everything has turned into Steve and falling and catching and wanting.

“Why not?” And there’s vulnerability in it, spreading its wings inside him, pushing back everything else he’s been feeling before as a different kind of the same reality comes crashing down on him. Why not? Because we’re boys? Because you’re Steve and I’m Eddie? Because I’ve been misreading this after all?

He pulls away, but Steve does take his hand before he can get too far.

“Because I’m already falling. And falling and falling and falling, and there you are.” Steve’s hand comes up to his hair now, brushing it behind his ear to meet his eyes. “Pretty.” He sighs, leaving his hand on Eddie’s cheek. “What if it’s too much?”

“You?”

“Me.” It’s rotten work.

Eddie shakes his head. “Never.” Not to me. Not if it’s you.

“‘M gonna start saying shit,” Steve murmurs then, his face impossibly closer now, and Eddie’s eyes trail to his lips. He doesn’t want to kiss Steve. Well, he does, and quite desperately in fact; but not right now. He wants to keep looking at him, wants to keep talking, wants to drink him in and just to be there. Make good on his promise.

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Cheesy shit,” Steve grins, though it wavers in the moonlight. Still it makes Eddie’s breath hitch. “Like asking you to hold me. And never let me go.”

Eddie smiles, plucking Steve’s hand from his cheek to rest it in his lap, playing with his fingers and marvelling at the feel of them. They’re so warm. Maybe Steve has that same bonfire inside him.

He almost asks. Instead, what he says is, “And if I do that? If I hold you? And catch you. And never let you go. And tell you that you look really good in the moonlight, and all that cheesy shit…” They grin, Steve’s fingers twitching in his lap. “Would you let me?”

“Let you what?”

Eddie swallows, his cheeks heating, his heart racing again.“Be the one you fall for.”

“Eddie,” Steve breathes, and the sound is far from broken this time, spoken as it is around a smile, accompanied by eyes glistening in the moonlight. “You already are.”

His heart is soaring. There is no other word to describe the feeling that overcomes him, body and soul, and he wants to scream about it, wants to laugh and cry and jump and fly. But all he says is, “Good.”

“Yeah?”

And, God, he sounds so hopeful, so innocent, so purely and deeply serene that Eddie can’t help but move carefully until he’s standing, holding one hand out to Steve.

“What are you doing?” he asks, laughing as Eddie pulls him to his feet and immediately wraps his arms around Steve’s middle, leaving him to bury his face in Eddie’s neck and wind his arms around him, too.

“Just making good on that promise, Stevie. Gonna hold you til you’re sick of me.”

“God, I love you,” Steve whispers into his skin, accompanied by another breathless laugh as he burrows deeper into him.

Or, at least Eddie thinks that he said. Maybe he was the one who said it. Maybe he just thought it, made it feel real with how strong he's feeling.

But before he can so much as freeze with the onslaught of both possibility and reality, Steve’s hand comes up to his cheek again and he brushes a kiss to his neck, one to his jaw, and then one to his cheek, before returning to bury himself in Eddie’s embrace.

Eddie closes his eyes and just breathes him in as they stand there, just holding each other. Falling and catching each other. Cradling their something new in trembling hands that tell the tale of two boys terrified and brave, and smiles that speak of future.

yearning hours | yearning hours b-side

#steddie #steddie fic #the yearning hours are not related by story. just by theme and imagery and mood I think #I'm still trying to get back into the groove after the worst writer's block so uhhh I hope this is fine?#dio words #oh look no one's depressed in this one!!! it's more of a deep yearning than a heavy one in this I think #not sure I'm happy with this ending but shhh #it's that kinda bonus track where there's 5 minutes of silence and you think the record is done but then BOOM surprise song

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kostektyw · 4 months

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Villainess anime reviews

went on a bit of a binge, so here's a compilation:

I'm the Villainess, So I'm Taming the Final Boss

rating: lots of fun

one of the funnier entries on this list in my opinion, i actually laughed out loud multiple times

the protagonist is a capable and determined lady, as well as slightly unhinged which i always enjoy, i love weird women

breakneck pace, speedrunning like 3 games in the 12 episode, so it is the opposite of boring

this anime has everything: ducks, crows in bowties, crossdressing, ducks, video game brain rot, and ducks

Villainess Level 99: I May Be the Hidden Boss but I'm Not the Demon Lord

rating: at east somewhat interesting (still ongoing, episodes watched: 5)

aside from the gimmick a pretty standard isekai with pretty eh animation

a lot of this show is kinda boring, but there are still interesting and enjoyable moments

the protagonist is charming and probably the strongest part

i will probably be continuing to see what happens next so depending on that my opinion may change

The Most Heretical Last Boss Queen: From Villainess to Savior

rating: charming

one of the series from this list that i enjoyed most, even if the story and the world are a bit simple, the characters and their struggles still work and aren't too difficult to get invested in

a bit more drama in this one, with tragic flashbacks (or whatever they're called if its abt an alternate plotline) that i found maybe a little too frequent

here the protagonist is also capable, driven, and quite traumatized, i wanna hold her in my hands like a baby bird

My Next Life as a Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom!

rating: cute!

the bisexual harem is a breath of fresh air

bakarina's dumbassery is a great source of comedy, she's also pretty lovable so the harem around her is believable. and i love a gal with a hobby

I'm in Love with the Villainess

rating: eh

kinda disappointed with this one, i was hoping for some fun gl story, but it could barely watch the first episode and had to force myself to try a few more in hopes it got better (it didnt)

the romance part felt more like harassment in those first episodes, and sure, ive read that it progresses further, but the protagonist didnt really endear herself to me with that

given the comedy tag on mal there were probably some jokes in it, i just couldn't identify many good ones

7th Time Loop: The Villainess Enjoys a Carefree Life Married to Her Worst Enemy!

rating: hell yeah! (still ongoing, episodes watched: 6)

the best one of all shows listed and the only one that's not an isekai

much more grounded, with good worldbuilding and another capable lady as the protagonist, but this one even more so, as well as much more mature

very pretty, even if i find some character designs questionable :v

definitely got me hooked and i will be watching more

#kostek original #kostek reviews #i appreciate this genre #if theres any more that i missed pls lemme know bc ive been basing my watching list on the word villainess in the title #villainess isekai #villainess anime #7th Time Loop: The Villainess Enjoys a Carefree Life Married to Her Worst Enemy!#I'm in Love with the Villainess #My Next Life as a Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom!#The Most Heretical Last Boss Queen: From Villainess to Savior #Villainess Level 99: I May Be the Hidden Boss but I'm Not the Demon Lord #I'm the Villainess #So I'm Taming the Final Boss

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