#“is this thing on?

[strangersatellites]

pride, envy, wrath, sloth, greed, lust, ao3

Seven Deadly Sins Series (NSFW 18+)

gluttony (noun) - a sin opposed to the virtue of temperance because it is the immoderate indulgence in the delights of food or drink. Gluttony can involve more than merely eating too much. Drunkenness is also a type of gluttony because it is excessive indulgence in intoxicating drink.

Steve’s drunk.

Hammered really.

His vision is swimming and his head feels heavy as lead and like it weighs nothing all at the same time. 

He’s walking, walking, walking. Going… somewhere.

Where?

He stumbles on a crack in the sidewalk and the only thing that keeps him from hitting the ground is the grip he has around Eddie’s arm.

Eddie!

“Hey, Eddddssss,” He giggles, and Eddie joins him, his snickers carrying out into the quiet night. “Eddie. Eddie, where're we goin’?” He thinks the words make sense but his tongue feels funny and he can’t really be sure if he made any sound.

Eddie’s laser-focused on his feet, working hard at putting one in front of the other. He comes to an abrupt stop and wobbles, unsteady. 

“Home. Is home this way?” He’s looking around fast and Steve thinks he looks like a squirrel. Giggles at the thought.

He tugs at Eddie’s arm. “Yeah. Home is this way.”

It’s a Saturday night and they’ve spent it out at a club with Robin and Nancy. What had started off as casual drinks and dancing quickly devolved, and the next thing Steve knew, he was doing tequila shots and making out with his boyfriend on the dance floor. 

Steve has trouble keeping his hands to himself on a good day. But especially when Eddie’s in leather and chains and his hands are on Steve’s hips and his rings are cold on his skin and his tongue tastes like liquor. 

He’d drug Eddie out by the hand, told Robin they were leaving. Lost count of their drinks somewhere between his fifth rum and coke and his third shot.

Now, plastered against Eddie’s back while he digs around through his pockets for their apartment keys he’s become very aware of just how drunk he is.

He presses his forehead into Eddie’s shoulder and squeezes his eyes shut tight and whines,

“Ed. I feel spinny.” 

The door swings open with a bang and Eddie laughs out an “Oh shit.”

“Eddieeeeeee.”

Steve’s wrapped up in strong arms and he tucks his face into Eddie’s neck. “I heard you sweetheart.” He lifts Steve’s head up with hands on both sides of his face and Steve gets a good look at him and his giggles are set off again.

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow but Steve’s laugh is contagious, his own bubbling up in response. “What are you laughing at, giggles?”

And that just makes it worse. Steve barely able to get out any words between. 

He reaches up and pokes at Eddie’s cheek and his eyes go big and wide. 

“There’s two of you.” He leans up and smacks two kisses on Eddie’s lips, tries to anyway. Gets the corner on his second attempt. “Two kisses for two Eddies.”

Both Eddies smile big and bright and he drags Steve back in for a kiss that goes dirty in a second. Teeth and tongues and the leftover taste of rum. His hands grab at Steve’s waist and squeeze, tight, tight, tight and the boy whimpers against his lips in response. 

He pulls away from Eddie and looks so shocked. “Babe,” he hiccups and laughs again. “Babe, I’m so drunk.”

Eddie’s the one that can’t pull it together this time. His “Me too, baby,” barely audible over the sound of his joy. A thought occurs to him and he stands bolt upright and his laughter comes to an abrupt stop when he gasps. “Stevie. Do you wanna have drunk sex?”

Steve’s jaw drops and he’s nodding. Words slurred together when he shoves towards their room, “Yeah, f’r sure. You’re s’smart.”

When his back hits their bed he has to squeeze his eyes shut again, still spinning if he moves too quickly. Eddie is fumbling with his belt buckle and Steve’s reaching down to help when he thinks of it.

“Ed, babe. Eddie. Eddie, what if my dick won’t work.”  

His boyfriend is dropping his head against his stomach and his shoulders shake with his laugh. His hand flattens to pet at Steve’s hips through his jeans that he really, really wants off. 

Eddie hiccups before he crawls up to kiss at Steve’s jaw, wet and sloppy and sticky with alcohol. “Think you’re gonna get whiskey dick, baby?”

Steve grinds his hips up against Eddie’s above him and gets a grunt in response, feels his own body react to the pressure and the lips behind his ear. “No, but like. Maybe. That would be so sad.” He closes his eyes while Eddie sucks a mark into his neck. “So sad.”

He doesn’t know when Eddie’s hand slid back down to his belt but he’s got it undone and his jeans unbuttoned between one blink and the next. His hand sliding down under Steve’s boxers and wrapping around his dick with a squeeze.

Eddie lifts up from his neck and raises his eyebrows. “Feels fine to me. Feels really good.”

If he wasn’t fighting to keep himself from coming in his pants like a teenager he might’ve laughed. He kicks a knee up and shoves Eddie off. “Why are you still wearing clothes, what the fuck?” And the way Eddie’s face screws up it looks like he doesn’t know either. 

Jeans and shirts and jackets and boxers find a home in a pile on the floor and someone will inevitably be looking for their phone later. 

But Eddie’s got his hand wrapped around them both and he’s spitting, sticky and wet over their dicks and Steve can’t be bothered with a thought of anything else. His hands scratch deep welts down Eddie’s back and he hisses at the pain. But the way his cock leaks over Steve’s stomach says it's a good hiss. On one particularly rough upstroke Steve’s orgasm takes him by surprise with a deep groan and his head thrown back. The alcohol flowing through his veins paired with his boyfriend’s guitar pick dangling in his face enough to send him racing to release.

The room is quiet save for harsh breaths and the slick sound of Eddie’s hand on his own skin. But Steve has an idea. He shoves at Eddie’s shoulders until he takes the hint and flops down on his back. Steve shimmies down the bed until he’s laid out between Eddie’s legs. 

He wraps a hand around the base of Eddie’s dick and points it towards his lips and Eddie’s thighs flex, bracing himself for the feeling of being enveloped in Steve’s pretty, pretty mouth. 

“I get up in the evening, and I ain’t got nothing to say.” 

Eddie’s head pops up and looks down. Finds Steve, smiling bright and giggling using his dick like it’s a microphone. 

“I come home in the morning,” He’s got his eyes shut and his eyebrows furrowed and he’s really into it. “I go to bed feeling the same way!”

Eddie brings his hands up to cover his face but he’s laughing so hard no sound comes out. Steve keeps humming when he finally licks at the head and Eddie’s done for. Coming across his tongue the second his lips wrap around the head. He’s trying to catch his breath when he hears Steve’s voice again.

“Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here all week.”

He drags him back up his body to settle against his chest, still shaking with laughter, with joy. Plants a smacking wet kiss to Steve’s lips and presses their foreheads together. “God, I fucking love you, baby.”

Steve’s smile is blinding-bright and he presses one more chaste kiss against his lips. “I love you more, babe.” His smile goes mischievous and his head tilts to the side, the picture of innocence. “Can’t wait to tell your friends you came to Bruce Springsteen.” 

Eddie holds his hands up in surrender. “Hey, I blame whiskey dick.”

It's hours before their giggles settle enough to fall asleep.

[talisidekick]

A while back my pharmacist saw my deadname on my profile and accidentially called it out, he corrected and deleted my deadname from the system so only my preferred name shows up now. There was a crowd of people behind me, so as he hands over the pills he apologized, in equal tone and volume as when he called my deadname and lied saying it's been a long day and he didn't mean to call out -his own- name. I quietly told him it was fine and he didn't need to do that for my sake.

His response: "No, it's my name now."

I went to the pharmacist yesterday, his nametag is my deadname. He informed me he's immigrating and in the process he's changed his first name to my deadname to have an English sounding name. That's why he's now able to get a reprint of his nametag to be my deadname. And repeated, with the intense seriousness of someone who is going to die on this hill: "It's mine now. Not yours. I'm taking." His tone indicated that decision is final.

Bro literally deadnamed me once, and has committed to flat out stealing my deadname. It's his now. Legally. Officially. I over heard his co-workers call him by the name.

[calocera]

my pet mold spore

[macdenlover]

it came to my realization that 99% of my fandom related headaches would be cured if everyone understood this

[koobiie]

shoutout to everyone who wants to infodump but cant string together coherent thoughts to form sentences and instead just look at you like this

[roach-works]

speculative fiction writers i am going to give you a really urgent piece of advice: don't say numbers. don't give your readers any numbers. how heavy is the sword? lots. how old is that city? plenty. how big is the fort? massive. how fast is the spaceship? not very, it's secondhand.

the minute you say a number your readers can check your math and you cannot do math better than your most autistic critic. i guarantee. don't let your readers do any math. when did something happen? awhile ago. how many bullets can that gun fire? trick question, it shoots lasers, and it shoots em HARD.

you are lying to people for fun. if you let them do math at you the lie collapses and it's no fun anymore.

[faeriekit]

"This fic was ai generated—" Cool, so lemme block you real quick

[dionysus-complex]

funniest Kamala Harris VP picks go

[roboticnebula]

Pros of re-reading your own fic

a good time;

Has exactly the tropes you like and the characterization you want to read;

Gratification: yes you did finish a thing and yes you did do good;

just a very fun time all around.

Cons of re-reading your own fic:

Is that another TYpO

[nikrei]

I keep seeing people use this image as a reaction to people's original posts:

Which I think is really incorrect, because with an original post they haven't come up to ur window, u've come up to their window.

So I made this, as a more accurate reaction for original posts:

[theadhdgoblin]

[cannibalchicken]

[vinceaddams]

People who try to copy historical writing styles don't say enough weird stuff in them. I'm listening to a 1909 story about a ghost car right now, and the narrator just said he honked the car horn a bunch of times, but the way he phrased it was "I wrought a wild concerto on the hooter".

[willgrahamscock]

Hey did you know that you can’t escape fatphobia even after death? The article talks about how these donated bodies are used for first year anatomy students to study the body, and how the 'perfect' body for that should be 170-180 pounds.

[so-many-ocs]

[on the verge of having a complete breakdown] i need to make some kind of list or perhaps sort things into categories