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riality-check · 1 year

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cw: discussions of body image

After everything, Steve gets softer.

Eddie spends so much time around him that he doesn't even realize it's happening, not until he's looking through his version of the photo album Jonathan put together toward the end of summer '86 so he could give it to Nancy and Robin and everyone else before the graduating class headed their separate ways.

He looks at it on an August day in 1987, about a year or so after Jonathan shyly handed them out. It's hot as balls outside, and while the AC in the trailer makes a lot of noise, it doesn't make a lot of cold, so it's hot as balls inside, too. Eddie ties his hair up with a purple scrunchie he stole from Nancy last week, and as he's looking at a page in the photo album, he stops.

It's a picture of Steve lounging by the pool, sunglasses on, blissfully unaware of Max and Erica in matching blue bathing suits standing behind him, poised to dump a bucket of water on him. Eddie remembers how Steve chased them down after, soaking wet, and threw them both into the pool without a single shred of hesitation.

He remembers Nancy's knowing look as he flushed from his face all the way down to his chest, thinking very not-PG thoughts about Steve being so strong, and he remembers shaking his soaking wet hair at her to make her shriek.

But, obviously, he didn't remember how Steve looked then. He's been superimposing the version of Steve he knows now onto the one that existed then. Casualty of spending nearly every day with him after the Spring Break from Hell.

Steve, in the summer of 1986, was so skinny.

Not rail thin like Eddie was. Not even close. He's always been broad, always muscular, but in that picture of him lounging on the chair with his arms above his head, shirtless and wearing a pair of swim trunks with the periodic table on them - a gag gift from Dustin that he actually ended up using - Eddie can see the definition of his stomach, his arms, his chest.

He looks good in the photo, but, then again, Steve could wear a potato sack and roll around in a pig sty, and Eddie would still think he looks good.

"What are you looking at?" a voice says from the doorway.

Eddie looks up to see Steve, 1987 Steve, the Steve he knows now.

He's got his arms crossed around his chest, looking at Eddie with a fond sort of smile. His glasses - which he refused to get until Robin dragged him to the optometrist - are perched on his nose, and he's barefoot and shirtless, having just thrown on a pair of shorts after getting out of the shower.

And Eddie realizes that Steve now, in the year since, has gotten softer.

He remembers reading, once, that really strong people don't have super defined muscles. Whatever book he found that in acknowledged that it was counterintuitive, but that fat supports muscle. The two have to exist, side by side, and a muscular body without fat is a body under stress.

Steve in 1986 was under stress. Eddie realizes, and a sort of warm relief floods his chest when he does, that Steve in 1987 isn't under stress anymore.

He's still strong and broad. Always has been, probably always will be. But where there was definition in his stomach last year, there's a little bit of squish now. His biceps have gotten bigger, too, as have his thighs.

Eddie is torn between wanting to bite him and wanting to squeeze him and never let him go.

"Jon's photo album," he says instead, and Steve traverses the general clutter of clothes, music sheets, and cables on the floor of Eddie's room to get to his bed.

He sits down next to Eddie, and Eddie can't resist wrapping an arm around his waist and squeezing, pulling him into his side.

Steve, as always, complies.

Eddie doesn't flip the page in the book. He lets Steve look at the page of pictures from Max's birthday, then watches as his eyes land on the picture of him.

Eddie watches him frown and decides that, nope, they're not doing that today.

Steve has told him, vaguely, about some of the stuff he was pressured into doing for sports. About cutting calories and vigorous exercise, about how soreness and hunger were viewed as prizes instead of pain.

He mentioned, once, how he was glad he never did wrestling because he was pretty sure it would have made it all a hell of a lot worse.

And to think Eddie used to hate jocks before dating Steve.

"You're hotter now," he says without any preamble, and while he probably should have started this conversation differently, it's worth the surprised laugh Steve lets out.

"You're just saying that," he says, and Eddie can't let that stand.

He puts the photo album on the bed and climbs into Steve's lap, holding his face in his hands.

"I'm not," he says seriously. "You're hot all the time. Probably always have been, definitely always will be."

It's true. Eddie's miserable crush on Steve during his first senior year, when Steve had that awful haircut was the subject of much good-natured bullying from Gareth, Jeff, and Archie, as well as bonafide proof that, unfortunately, he could not choose who to have a crush on.

"But I love whatever version of you I have in front of me the most," Eddie continues. "So, you're hotter now."

Steve smiles. it's a timid smile, one that Eddie thinks doesn't suit his face. Steve is a confident guy at his core. Timid smiles look like he's trying on a too-small Halloween costume.

"You mean it?" he asks.

"Of course I do," Eddie says, kissing him once on the forehead. "You're always warm, you're strong as hell, you give amazing hugs, and you make me feel safe."

"Safe?"

"Yeah. You feel safe. Like home."

Steve's face breaks out into a grin, one that's more confident, one that suits his face better, and he kisses Eddie once, slow and sweet.

And if Eddie loves holding and being held by Steve, well, that's no one's business but theirs.

And if Eddie's favorite place to be is laying with his head in Steve's lap, cheek pressed to his stomach as he falls asleep, well, they don't need to say anything about it.

#ria writes #steddie #steddie ficlet #stranger things #stranger things ficlet #st #st ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #fluff #cw body image #dredged up from discord yet again #i hope y'all like it!

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dbnightingale24 · 9 months

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Bad Habits

A Thomas Shelby Love Story

Part 1

Alright, before everyone starts yelling at me, I promise that the final part to my Ransom story is almost done. It's slightly longer than this one, and I'm being extremely picky about it cause I wasn't necessarily happy with the last one I posted. That being said, my husband and I binged all six seasons of 'Peaky Blinders' in five days, so now we have this. I'm also posting this one first because I used a different approach on this story and it's giving me extreme anxiety lol. I tried to capture the accents and the essence of the show, so I really hope you all like it! Anyway, here goes! Thank you, as always, to @fuckingbye for the amazing moodboard, I love you and will build a monument to your greatness.

Word Count: 24,549 (to those of you who are new: I'm sorry. To those who aren't: this is me being on my best behavior and you know it.)

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI) , Swearing, Drinking, Drug Use, Depression, Religion, Fluff, Anxiety attacks, Cheating, Abusive Relationship, Angst (c'mon now, it's me), Family Drama, Child Trauma (if you squint)...I think that's it. It dives deeper into a lot of things in part 2.

Song(s) That Inspired This Chapter: I Only Know How To Go Too Far

I do not give consent/permission for my works/stories to be posted elsewhere. I do not condone this type of behavior, this is for entertainment purposes only.

His eyes meet yours from across the room and you know you’re fucked. You should’ve stayed away. Yes, it’s your sister’s engagement party, but you knew he’d be here. The way your family loves the Shelby family...you knew. You knew he’d show up and would be looking for you. Still, you came and you know it’s because you miss him. God, you miss him like crazy.

Thomas fucking Shelby.

“Oi! Come over here, love!” Arthur calls, drunken smile on his face as he makes eye contact with you from across the hall.

“You stay away!” you laugh as he makes his way to you.

“Lets have a dance, eh?” he suggests as he finally reaches you.

“You, Arthur Shelby, shall not lay a finger on me tonight, or any other night,” you smirk, grabbing your glass and taking a swig from it.

“And why is that?”

“Tommy ‘ll kill ya,” you giggle, nodding across the room to where he’s sitting with his wife, Grace.

“He has no say in it now, does he? He’s married.”

“As if that ever stops the Shelby men,” you tease and he flips you off.

“One dance.”

“Not tonight, Arthur. Besides, a man of your status seen with a woman like me? What will the people think?”

“Who cares? I know how I’ll feel,” he smirks and you burst out laughing.

You really have missed the Shelby men.

“What’s so funny, eh?” Thomas asks, causing you to jump cause you didn’t even notice that he had made his way over.

“Nothin’,” you giggle, feeling the burn of Grace’s glare on you, “what ya doin’ over here without your lady, Thomas?”

“Just wanted to see what ’m missin’ out on.”

“I think I’ve found someone more agreeable to my needs,” Arthur smiles as he makes eyes with a woman across the room, “if you’ll excuse me,” he nods as you start laughing again while he walks off.

“So, you’re fucking Arthur now?”

“Watch it, Thomas,” you warn, cutting your eyes at him before taking another sip of your drink.

“You used to call me Tomcat.”

“What do you want?”

“Come with me.”

“And if I don’t feel like it?”

“Come with me,” he demands in a harsher tone and contradictory smile, before starting to walk out.

You roll your eyes as you grab your glass and bottle before following him out.

You’ve known for a while that it angers him that you don’t fear him in the slightest. You also know that it irritates him that there’s no reason for you to be scared of him; you two have been through so much and have known each other for so long...

The rest is on AO3. For whatever reason, Tumblr won't let me post the whole thing on here -_-

Here's the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49359964

taglist: @emerald-evans, @autumnrose40

#fanfic #fan fiction #fanfiction #Thomas Shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #Thomas Michael Shelby #Thomas Shelby Fanfic #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby smut #Peaky Blinders #Cillian Murphy Character #Cillian Murphy Characters #Thomas Michael Shelby fanfic #Don't Hate Me #I Hope Y'all Like It!

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hime-bee · 8 months

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For the artsy folks (or just people who like music hehe) I finally got around to finishing a Spotify playlist suited toward Leumin! 😍

#thanks for the reminder to that one person hehe #i hope y'all like it!#Inclement Idée Fixe #Leumin Holiday #spotify playlist #Spotify

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butscrewmefirst · 1 year

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the countess of the cortez | carrd | credit

#❛ promo || … i want to show you something you’ll enjoy.#made by the AMAZING briar!#he always does such beautiful work. a talent we're all lucky to have!#❛ out of character || … cannibal mother.#❛ queue || … i wanna be adored.#also this is like my soft reset of my blog!#nothing major has changed... tho all of the images have changed on my blog lol #i hope y'all like it!

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blazefirefox · 1 year

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Finally, after 4 long months, I have finished the first part of my OC voice claims! I unfortunately had to make it a YouTube video because Tumblr wouldn't let me post my 40 minute long video ;_;. The editing is probably a little funky because I was editing at 11 at night on 5 hours of sleep. These characters are part of an Owl House AU I have that surrounds The Collector and the backstory I have made for them. I first made this AU all the way back in June, so some parts are definitely not aligned with canon, but I have tweaked some factors to match with the show more. This first video(s) are the important characters in my story, while the second part will be background/not as important characters. Here's a little key that will help with understanding some of the characters:

Red dot - this character is deceased/residing in the Stars (with one exception)

Blue dot - this character is residing in the mortal plane as a ghost

Red dot with a bit of black in the middle - this character is a resident of the Dark River (hell)

Green dot - they are in some other residence/it's complicated

I also would like to shout out to @wake-up-and-face-the-sun and @onyxstic for sitting through all my explanations of these characters, as well as being huge inspirations for me and for being so kind :3

Without further ado, enjoy ;)

youtube

Fluttering Bird, Sol, Millie, Delta, Sentinel Millie, and Kasai's take place during the events of The Owl House

Sierra, Soot, Kindle, Sunfire, and Sandstorm's take place before & after the events of The Owl House

Jasper, Slate, Mirage, Storm, Cyclone, Mourning Dove, Snipe, Quiet Rain, Juniper, Liana, Micah, Clouded Dawn, Thunder Fall, Shaded Dusk, and Hollow Branch's take place before the event of The Owl House

Vermillion, River Ripple, Misty Sky, Jackdaw's Flight, Floating Feather, Teen Falling Dusk (Dusky), Teen Fluttering Bird (Birdie), Teen Millie, Blackout Sol, Blackout Thunder Fall, and Blackout Hollow Branch's take place after the events of The Owl House

Here's where the characters with green dots reside: Sandstorm is in their own purgatory, based on their confusion and questionable deeds in their life, to wander around, slowly losing their sanity; Quiet Rain chose to be reincarnated so that she can watch over her dear friends, as she promised...; Sentinel Millie is basically a beast form of Millie, deciding to rear its ugly head whenever she is feeling an extreme negative emotion, or whenever they feel like it; Kasai was forced asked by the High Archivist Council to right the wrongs Sol has caused, so he has lived far past what a normal Sun Archivist should and has survived many life-ending events, and will not succumb until Sol is dealt with. Mourning Dove, unlike Sol's other victims, chose to stay in the Inbetween to keep an eye on her children.

If you have any questions, PLEASE ask! I would love to answer questions about family trees because I sure I made that confusing in the video lol. Thank you for watching, and I hope you liked it!

[I do not claim any of the voices or the show The Owl House. The only things that belong to me are the AU, most of the characters, and the art.]

#art #toh collector oc #my ocs #voice claims #video #i hope y'all like it!#exporting this was literally miserable #i didn't want to make this a yt vid #but whatever #i worked on this for so long that you may be able to see where my art style flucuated #im gonna go take a nap #Youtube

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allsassnoclass · 2 years

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Hi hazel!!! Congratulations on 500!!!!!!! Could I ask for cashton with "The intimacy of noticing someone’s nervous habits" maybeeee. all my love and my hand in marriage if ashton is the one who's nervous <33333

@lukemichaelcalumashton: Hello hello hazel! congrats on the followers, you deserve each and one of them! i'm here with the prompt "the intimacy of "how did you know that?" "Because I know you" for cashton maybe? love you, congrats again! -monse

hello hello! I hope you don’t mind that I combined these two prompts. They go together perfectly

this particular fic is part of the first responders au, although I think it’s passable to read as a standalone

cashton: the intimacy of noticing someone’s nervous habits, the intimacy of “how did you know that?” “because I know you”

Calum sighs in relief when he finally pulls into a parking space, carefully maneuvering the car between a huge truck and a family van with room to spare on either side. Ashton’s apartment building stands squat and imposing in front of them, the shiny, modern building blotting out the sun. Mali surveys it from behind her sunglasses.

“It’s a bit of an eyesore, isn’t it?” she remarks while Calum rounds the vehicle to join her on the sidewalk. He barks a laugh.

“Ashton thinks the exact same thing,” he says, ushering her forward. “He only lives here because it’s affordable and surpasses all of the earthquake safety regulations.”

“Smart man,” Mali says, stepping aside so Calum can put in Ashton’s door code and let them in. The lobby is uncomfortably sterile and white in the way that modern designs seem to favor but Calum hates, but at least the elevator is smooth and functional, not like the one in Calum’s building that lets out a terrifying grinding sound every time it moves. This one is silent as it takes them up.

Ashton keeps telling Calum that he should move. Calum will only do so if Ashton moves with him.

“Promise me again that you won’t give him the shovel talk?” he requests, watching the lights on the buttons change with each floor they pass.

Mali slides her eyes over to him, amusement twinkling in them.

“If you keep asking me that, it’s going to make me think something’s wrong. You mean you don’t want me to defend the honor of my one and only baby brother?”

Calum knocks their shoulders together, rolling his eyes at the sarcasm.

“My honor is fine, thank you. I just don’t want you to be mean. I want you two to get along.”

“If he likes you half as much as you like him, I think we’ll be fine,” Mali says. The elevator dings, announcing their arrival, and he gives her a smile as they make their way down the apartment corridors to Ashton’s door.

Calum isn’t actually worried, not really. Ashton and Mali are both extremely likable. He doesn’t know of anyone who can resist their natural charm, and he loves them both. He can’t fathom a situation where they would come out of tonight disliking each other.

“Ready?” he asks her as he approaches the correct door and the cute, lemon-themed welcome mat that Ashton keeps outside of it. Mali nods, and he takes that as the cue to knock.

The door swings open after a few muffled thumps sound from inside, revealing Ashton with a wide, dazzling smile. He’s wearing one of his printed button-ups, the red paisley one that shows off his arms as he gestures them inside, and his earring glints off the light in the hallway under his curls.

“Come in, come in!” he enthuses, closing the door behind them and skirting back to the front of their little triangle with a light brush of his hand on Calum’s back. “You can leave your shoes here if you’d like. It’s so nice to meet you, Mali-Koa! Calum has told me so many wonderful things about you!”

“He’s told me a lot about you, too,” Mali says, undoing the straps of her sandals and returning his smile. “Just Mali is fine.”

“Right, just Mali.” He claps his hands together. “Can I get you guys anything to drink? Water, oat milk, soda, lemonade? Dinner will be ready in a moment, it’s just finishing up in the oven.”

He flutters to the kitchen, checking over his shoulder that they’re following. Calum puts his hands in his pockets and tries not to pout because he didn’t get a hello kiss like usual.

“Water would be lovely,” Mali says.

“What about you, Cal?” Ashton asks, reaching for the glasses. The timer on the oven chooses that moment to go off, and Ashton fumbles the glass. Calum winces at the clatter it causes as it lands in the sink.

“I’m so sorry,” Ashton says, reaching for the cup and looking at the timer. “Let me just–”

“I’ve got it, Ash.” Calum takes the glass from his hand, ignoring the crack in it. “I’ll do beverages, you do food.”

Ashton purses his lips together, but grabs the oven mitts without protest. Calum hears the timer shut off, then feels a wave of heat at his back when the oven door opens.

Usually Ashton welcomes Calum’s help in the kitchen. Calum is almost always roped into cooking with him when he comes over for dinner, because Ashton never wants him to be bored waiting for the food to finish and the kitchen is his happy place. Calum loves that Ashton wants him in there with him.

Apparently not today, though. Calum tries not to let it sting, but he has the worrying feeling that this might become a pattern for the night.

He gets new glasses of water for all of them, with ice for Ashton and without for him and Mali. Ashton sets a delicious-smelling vegetarian lasagna down on his little wooden table off to the side between the kitchen and dining room. The apartment doesn’t have a great space for a dining table, but Ashton doesn’t like to eat at the kitchen island when he has company, because he doesn’t like having to fully turn his head to see and talk to them. The table is already laden with their plates and silverware, as well as apple slices, rolls from the supermarket down the street, and a small garden salad.

“This looks wonderful, Ashton,” Mali says, hovering by one of the chairs. Calum chooses the one at the head of the table, and Ashton loops around to pull out Mali's chair with a flourish.

"Thank you," she laughs, taking her seat.

"My pleasure," Ashton says with a wide smile.

He insists on dishing everyone up, apologizing profusely when he drips sauce on the table transferring a slice of lasagna to Mali's plate, noodles and sauce sliding into a steaming lump with the ricotta cheese instead of maintaining a neat rectangle. He fumbles the salad bowl while he passes it, too, immediately apologizing again.

He's more of a klutz than Luke tonight. Ashton is usually the steadiest person that Calum knows, always focused and calm on calls and grounded whenever they hang out. Calum has never seen him like this, and he's never heard him apologize so much in such a short amount of time. He can feel the frenetic energy coming off of him in waves, can see it in his wide, frozen smile.

Calum presses his foot against Ashton's under the table, hoping to settle him. Ashton glances at him, then returns his gaze to Mali.

"So, Mali, tell me more about yourself!"

Conversation flows relatively smoothly after that, with Ashton leading most of it and laughing loudly. Calum ensures that Mali knows most of the vegetables in the salad were grown by Ashton on the apartment's rooftop garden, and Ashton quickly brushes off Mali's compliments on it and turns the conversation back to her. Mali can barely get her own questions in edgewise, even though Ashton usually loves to talk about himself.

Calum catches him squeezing the space between his thumb and forefinger, something he does when he's anxious or has a headache. Calum gently presses their feet together again.

Ashton is wearing socks. Calum has never seen him wear socks in the apartment, not even during winter. He only ever wears them in the firehouse because he needs to keep his boots on in case they get a call.

Somehow, they make it through dinner without a major incident. Mali doesn’t seem to have picked up on the weird vibe in the air, but maybe she thinks Ashton is always like this. She doesn’t know Ashton like he does. Calum can see every nervous fidget and the effort behind his wide smiles. It’s making his shoulders tense.

Mali, thankfully, excuses herself to the bathroom before dessert. Calum turns to Ashton the second he hears the door close behind her.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, laying his hand on Ashton’s forearm and brushing his thumb across his skin in a gentle back-and-forth motion.

“Nothing’s wrong!” Ashton says, smile still fixed in place. Calum wonders if his face aches.

“Ash,” he says evenly, continuing his thumb’s back-and-forth.

Ashton is one stubborn motherfucker, but he’s too brittle right now to keep this contained from Calum. He watches him waver, then crack like concrete under a sledgehammer, slumping back against his chair.

“I’m fucking everything up,” he mumbles, frown quivering.

“Hey, no you’re not,” Calum says gently, shifting closer. “Mali likes you, I can tell!”

“Why? I’m obviously not hiding my nervousness well.”

“You’re doing fine,” Calum assures him. “Just because I noticed it doesn’t mean that she did. I’m your partner, Ash. I’m supposed to notice these things.”

“What gave it away?”

Calum sighs.

“Your clumsiness, for one. I’ve never seen you fumble anything, but you’re dropping things left and right today. You’re using the smile you give to people when we’re on calls, not the one you use with me and the rest of the team. You keep pressing the pressure point on your hand. Also, you’re wearing socks.”

Ashton frowns.

“Lots of people wear socks.”

“Not you.”

Ashton sighs, pulling his hand away to squeeze his pressure point again.

“Some people get really weird about seeing feet. Like, they hate it. I didn’t want to make a bad impression.”

“Ash, sweetheart, we live in LA,” Calum says, exasperated. “No one here owns socks. Mali isn’t going to dislike you just because you don’t like the feeling of cloth on your feet.”

The space between Ashton’s eyebrows wrinkles, just barely enough for Calum to notice.

“How did you know that?” he asks.

“Know what?”

“About the socks,” Ashton says. “That I don’t like them because I don’t like the feeling of it. That it’s a texture thing.”

Calum tilts his head.

“Because I know you,” he says. “You always take a deep breath when you put them on, like you’re steeling yourself to head into an emergency, and you grimace in the same way when you eat something you don’t like.”

For a split second, the image of Ashton grimacing over sludgy hospital coffee over a year ago leaps unbidden into his mind.

He’s been observing Ashton for a long time, first as teammates so they would be able to read each other in the field, then as someone hopelessly pining over a distant crush. As much as there’s still more to learn, he knows enough. He knows Ashton in the same way he knows how to put his gear on once the bell rings, or the cracks in his ceiling that he studied night after night when he first moved into his apartment here.

“I know you,” he repeats, hoping that Ashton can read everything he doesn’t know how to say within these syllables.

Ashton smiles, because he knows Calum, too. He hears it.

By the time Mali returns to the table and they eat dessert, Ashton’s socks have been abandoned underneath the table, and his smile has softened into the one that Calum is used to seeing in this apartment, not the mask he pastes on when necessary in public. Mali meets Calum’s eyes over her slice of cake when Ashton lets out a genuine giggly laugh, her eyes sparkling.

Calum knows Ashton, but he knows his sister, too. He recognizes that look.

Ashton has nothing to worry about, just like Calum knew from the start. He leans back in his chair and watches the beginning of their friendship unfold, happy to bask in the presence of the two people who know him best.

#cashton #first responders au #my writing #ask box prompt #returning to these guys! huzzah!#i like them #i hope y'all like it!

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