#Come Dig Me Out

[s0fter-sin]

ghost has a flat he rarely goes to

it's covered in a thick layer of dust from disuse. none of the cupboards or closets have doors, not when they're so easy to hide behind. the windows are covered in thick black paint that no light can penetrate

but worst? worst is the glass

mirrors, cups, bowels, every single reflective surface is shattered; the glass left lying where it fell

he never cleans it; just steps around the crystalline piles, the shards too fine to hold a reflection

there's little need to guess how they were broken, not when there's a fist-sized hole in the mirror backing in the bathroom. not when fine scars riddle his knuckles, torn from ripping out glass splinters with shaking hands

ghost has a flat he rarely goes to

there's no doors, no light, no glass

because everywhere he turns, simon riley's waiting to stare back at him and ask if he's finished burying him yet

[charlie-rulerofhell]

Pick up the pace, pack up the gear Gimme some face, a souvenir Here come the gays, here comes the fear Now we're having fun

[ann-chovi]

THIS. THIS IS WHAT I WAS DIGGING FOR. APPARENTLY I NEVER UPLOADED IT HERE. Anyway, my old D&D character in her current incarnation: a Dunmer in Elder Scrolls Online weirdly allied with the Aldmeri Dominion and adopted by a family of friendly vampires: Orin Greywater of House Ravenwatch~

[mephoj]

nickel and balloon would be so much more interesting if people explored the way nickel became everything awful that balloon used to be but so much worse ironically all in the name of "protecting" everyone from that history repeating. and not softboy tsundere yaoi or whatever is going on in those tags rn

[runningupthatvecna]

i saw this post of eddie recently and it gave me so many (majorly self-indulgent) ideas which is why i couldn't stop myself with this and– nghhh rrrrr

eddie x plussize!fem!reader

warnings/tags: 18+ only! smut, oral (m receiving), plus size!reader and the issues that might come with growing up without male validation, established but relatively new relationship, softdom!eddie, unprotected piv (reader takes birth control but it's not mentioned), pet names (baby, sweetheart, darling), heavy dirty talk, eddie is down baaaad for reader, fluff at the end, inexperienced!reader if you squint, no mentions of y/n, no plot, just loads of filth basically oops don't look at me i got slightly carried away

Greedy and needy hands run down his torso, over the denim of his vest, they sneak underneath his worn out hellfire shirt, soft fingertips dancing over the heated skin of his waist, soft expanse of his belly, the back of an index slowly feeling its way south.

You don't know where your confidence is coming from, maybe it's transpiring into your own skin from the way your man's breath is a burning hot sensation on your neck, unmistakable consequence of your actions, the feeling of his heaving chest against your own.

A promise that he's right here because he wants to be. He really, really does.

His eyes are closed, brows furrowed and his lips are parted, making way for a symphony of sweet sounds he's about to make for your ears to hear, entirely focusing on you and you and you only, and whatever it is that you're about to do to him.

You, who's got his head spinning every time you're around. You, who's the only thing Eddie can think about ever since he worked up the courage to approach you at Steve Harrington's last party. You're the epitome of his wildest dreams, someone he still couldn't believe he deserved.

But god, you think, does he deserve you.

He lets out the sweetest moan-ish sigh when your index curls into the waistband of his boxers, both of your hearts blooming with anticipation, and your plush hip presses against the hardness that has started forming ever since you – totally on accident – brushed the back of your hand against his thigh as you had walked past him in the hallway of his uncle's trailer.

He's been half hard since then, eyeing your every move from the couch in the living room, darkened doe scanning over every curve and dip and valley and hill of your landscape as you were getting yourselves drinks.

Lips attached to his neck now, you're reveling in how reactive, vocal and pliant he's becoming under your touch as a desperate grunt escapes him at the feeling of you doing things.

"Shit, baby, need you so bad", he pants as you finally cup the evident excitement through the denim of his black jeans.

With a smile you look up from sucking a bruise into his the side of his neck, just to find his half-lidded dark brown eyes, incredibly lustful gaze set on you.

It flusters you to no end, having this effect on him. It's not something you're used to at all, it's a foreign concept, even strange if you're honest, but you're letting it happen. Accept it, slowly, because deep down, you really want to have that effect on him.

You're starved after all.

-----

Your pink lips finally close around his even pinker tip, the mix of your saliva and his precum running down your chin in tears.

All Eddie can see, can focus on, is you on your knees in front of him, with the sincerest intention to make him feel good. Yeah, he's been dreaming of this, of seeing you like this, of feeling you like this for a generous amount of time.

You've already taken your time transforming the skin over his hips into a field of gradients from light red to deep purple, and with every pop of your lips leaving him, he'd whimpered your name under his breath, eyes fluttered close, lips parted, his beautiful face pulled into an expression for the books.

You suck on the tip for a few moments, causing his hand to fly into your hair trying to keep you where he needs you most. One of yours is resting on his thigh, while the other comes up to cup his balls.

"Fuck, baby, s-so good", he murmurs as he quickly opens his eyes and his other hand comes down to cup yours over his heavy hang.

He wants to teach you, let you know, show you exactly how he likes it, since it's your first time sucking him off. It's endearing you think, and incredibly sweet. He wants you to learn him, and not in a demanding way, but more with a desperate and gentle undertone. Eddie's palm on the back of your hand is a welcome burning sensation to you, his kind understanding for your inexperience blooms between your two body parts, causing the same heat to rush all the way into your cheeks at his sweetness.

He wants to feel the wetness of your mouth around his length, taking him in as far as physics allow you, he wants to feel your throat constricting around him as he makes you swallow everything he has to offer.

You're lost for words, and not only because you're physically unable to form any sentence with how his cock is stuffing your eager mouth, but also because seeing him experience so much pleasure from doing this with you is something you'd never expected.

And suddenly, he grabs your chin and pulls you up to your feet.

"Gonna cum if you keep doing that, baby", he clarifies with a chuckle, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips as he cups your ass, "gonna let me take care of you too?"

Eddie's leaning down to look at you from under his bangs, hopeful doe eyes and this fucking dimpled smile making you melt to your core.

It sends a shiver through your system, hearing someone prioritize you, hearing someone care about you and your needs enough to go this far with you.

Your mouth cracks into a smile.

"Make me feel good, then."

-----

Eddie trails the softness of his plushy lips over your shoulder up up up, brushes a strand of hair away with his nose rubbing along the skin. He needs to make room, room because he knows that he is going to need to sink his teeth into the nape of your neck soon, the junction that's already bruised, marked in soft shades of red from earlier.

You hear the deep groan from behind you as you feel his tip softly touch your outer labia, carefully breaching its way between as he grabs his hard cock and slowly rubs down and then up again, catching your preciously hidden clit deliciously on its way, forcing a whimper out of your lungs.

You're burning for this man – it must be that you think, because you're indeed letting him feel you – hell, even see you like this, a vulnerable state you thought you would never let anyone see you in. Until Eddie came along, proving to you over and over again that he was worth letting your guard down. That he was going to be just what you needed. His gentlest, warmest, softest – for you.

The sound of him slowly pushing into your sopping warmth is so sinful, stretching you open on his pulsing cock and causing you to gasp at the feeling of getting filled.

Eddie himself is furrowing his brows, parting his lips and closing his eyes, his warm breath tickling down your neck from behind. The feeling of having your thick cunt wrapped around him entirely again is driving him mad to no end.

It only takes a few slow thrusts for a creamy ring to form at his base already, the schlicky sound and Eddie's low groans and your own moans the only thing your ears are able to take in.

"Oh god, babybabybaby, s-so fucking tight, mhhhhh", he babbles out under whimpers of his own, fingers gripping and digging into the supple flesh of your hips to pull you back onto his soaked cock repeatedly.

"Only for you Eddie", you manage to get out, shortly followed by more whimpers and louder squelching as he gently picks up speed. Your back arches as Eddie presses his plump rosy lips to your neck,

"Yeah baby? You're this wet– fuck, just– fuuuuck .. –just for me?"

"Mhh-hm", you hum in agreement over the slapping sounds of his hips against your ass before your jaw falls open and your back arches even further as Eddie wraps his arms around you just for one hand of his to find your tits, pinching and rolling one of your nipples between his ringed fingers, while the other wanders south to help you along.

It's all so much, almost too much, and it's sending you straight towards your desired destination.

"S'good, feels s-so good baby, mhh yes", slips past your lips, one of your hands goes up to tangle itself in Eddie's mess of a curly mane, the other has already found his sticky palm that he eagerly buried between your thighs, repeating his own gesture of showing you.

"Yeah? Been dreaming of this pretty cunt for the whole week darling", Eddie paused as you let out another whimper at his admission, "god, you're so f-fucking hot", he mouthes at your shoulder, admiring how truly fucked out and needy you are for him.

Goosebumps spread over your arms, your legs, even your back at his words, his sultry praise laying bare on every inch of your sweaty skin.

He'd probably been fisting his hardness to the thought of your sopping heat every morning and every night of the last days in which you didn't have the chance of seeing each other, and the thought of him thinking of you, especially in this context, is more than enough to help bringing you closer.

His thrusts become sloppier, a sign he's nearing his own sticky-sweet release, amplified and sped up by the flow of his name coming over your lips.

"Mhh, wanna cum Eddie, please– oh fuck, please."

"Oh shit, yeah baby, yes – god yes, soak this cock for me like the good girl that you are."

He bites into your shoulder to hold back, he's so damn close but he wouldn't dare to come before you, his own desire and the determination to make you feel good making his fingers that are still rubbing your sensitive bud continue at the same exact speed all while his cock is being buried deep inside you over and over again, hitting every place you need him to touch.

And there you are, flashes of white appear beneath your eyelids as he continues to pound into your creamy hole, the grunts and groans escaping him enough to push you over the edge. You're surprised at yourself – though you had plenty of experience doing it solo – about your own capabilities of cumming this hard.

Your head falls back on Eddie's shoulder, you feel your pussy clench and flutter around him as he finally lets go with a grunt of your name surrounded by "fuck, baby"'s and soft whimpers, stuffing you full of his cum.

A laugh rumbles through his chest as you're both coming down, his hand on your clit finds your own, guiding it upwards and placing it on your belly along with his other arm that had been a great help in holding you steady against him just moments ago.

Wrapped up in him, you're fighting the familiar urge to leave his grasp and hide back underneath your clothes, which at the same time sounds absurd to you since you'd just let him rail you silly, it's real nonetheless.

Stirring you out of it, Eddie's hot tongue comes out to lick a broad stripe up the side of your neck, relishing in the taste of you, "now that was something else baby, holy shit", he then nuzzles against your cheek as he presses you closer into his body.

Still panting from your blissful high, you swallow and nod against his face, breath hot on your cheek.

The next thing he says melts you.

"You're so soft, I fucking love you, sweetheart", a warm hand comes up to your other cheek, turning your face towards his gently, the dark brown ocean in his eyes finding yours and you're mere milliseconds away from getting lost in it.

He bumps his nose against yours, a gesture so sickeningly sweet it makes your heart nearly burst, showing him with a wide smile and a soft "I love you too", before his lips land back on yours, and you welcome his tongue with pleasure.

You feel his thumb brush back and forth over the heated skin of your plush cheek, a low moan transpiring from his lungs into your own.

Without breaking away, Eddie draws his hips back just to slowly give you one more gentle thrust. Your fucked raw cunt clenches around him yet again, still sensitive, and you start to realise he's already hard again just from kissing you. And, maybe also, feeling your mixed cum drip down both of your thighs.

Eddie bottoms out once more, mumbling one more thing against your lips, as his grip on your cheek and belly tightens, not intending to let you go any time soon,

"the lonely days are over, sweetness."

-----

[blackhholes]

teen wolf meme: [3/5] motifs -> resurrection

It's different now. I think dying did something to him. It did something to me, too. But none of it was good.

[violent138]

Bruce definitely had to get better and better with organizing his obsessive, insane numbers of contingency plans. They went from file folder to binder to computer database and now the Batkids gripe as they have to develop a new algorithm to sort through them by category.

[exile-arc]

it's meant to be the happy time of year - c!tommy + if we make it through december (phoebe bridgers cover)

❄️ / ❄️ / ❄️ / ❄️ / ❄️ / ❄️ / ❄️ / ❄️

[s0fter-sin]

ghost stares at the ceiling, chest heaving in a harsh pant; sweat ice on his clammy flesh and soaked into the sheet he restlessly kicks away.

ears still ringing, his fingertips blindly drift down to trail along his vivisection scar. he half-expects blood to smear in their wake. his own line of solomon, who ordered him split in twain; half of him given to a grieving mother and half left with the grieving to be.

just for both his broken halves to be rejected.

what did it make him that his mother grieved him more than she loved him? that she begged to be relieved of him more adamantly than she begged to receive him? why did his worth spill out with his drawn blood? why was his pain lesser than hers?

his hand flexes, digging into the raised scar like it’ll part beneath his fingertips to plunge into his mangled insides. no one knows the cruelty of reforming the halved; his name, his being, not nearly as important as his body when he was stripped from himself. no one knows the pain of healing and understanding losing pieces of yourself means losing your value along with them.

how many more pieces did he have to lose before he was halved once more? before his very presence incurred grief so strong it was better to be rid of him than cradle his bloodied remains?

did the infant fight himself? did he age always at odds with himself; his halves never truly whole? he hopes he wasn’t, that he was spared the loss of self; the fear that one may be welcomed over the other.

who will he lose when the inevitable comes? when he’s ripped apart again? simon? or ghost? is it better to be cursed with choice just like his mother or live with an aftermath chosen for him? does it matter if in the end, he convinces himself there was nothing of him left to lose?

his head lolls to the side and the wild buck of his chest slows. he watches johnny beside him, his face lax with the rare peace of sleep; his cheek squished against the pillow, his lips pursed as long breaths escape him.

johnny. soap. never torn asunder but two all the same.

he carefully reaches out and ghosts his fingers along the jagged scar on his chin. even in sleep, he presses into his bloodied touch. he’s never fled his half-flesh, never shies away from his gore as it spills unbidden from his cleaved torso. he holds on where his mother let him go; cups his stomach to hold his insides in place and never minds the blood that drips through his fingers.

simon will never let him become his own solomon and cannibalise himself. he will never let him question which half of him has more value; which pieces he can afford to lose before he’s cast aside.

ghost’s soap. simon’s johnny. his.

whole, in any incarnation.

[cosmogyros]

modern music sucks, people need to sing worse and write better songs

[clotpolesonly]

okay so i've been seeing some love for the show's latino!Gansey and i just gotta say, i can't relate aldfkjgh

no shade, i get that we're all desperate for minority rep, and it's really nice to get a latino character that breaks so many stereotypes (wealthy, universally respected, an academic, beloved by literally everyone but without being unduly sexualized, etc etc)

HOWEVER

i feel like people think Gansey as he's written in the books is a blank slate that they can project onto and racebending him won't/shouldn't/didn't change anything about him, but honestly i think that's a bit of lowkey racist take in and of itself? in a way?? in the sense that it plays into the white supremacist idea of whiteness being the default (aka nothing) instead of being its own something with identifiable characteristics.

book!Gansey does have a cultural identity and very strong cultural influences that play a crucial role in his characterization, and that cultural identity is WASP

(the irony is not lost on me alkdfjgh)

White Anglo Saxon Protestants, essentially the "ruling class" of the US for centuries, The Establishment™, etc. they're known primarily for being wealthy, snobbish, and repressed. they're the kind of people who like to think they're Good People but are soooo concerned with image and reputation that they'd rather perpetuate harm than admit they were ever responsible for it.

Mrs Gansey guilt tripping her son for missing her fundraiser instead of, ya know, being worried that he's not responding to any of her texts?

Gansey literally fleeing the country as a PRETEEN because his ptsd made him messy and embarrassing for the family?

his very first thought upon being fatally stung by hundreds of hornets being that he was going to interrupt and ruin the party?

that entire family luncheon where Gansey is constantly on red alert, searching for passive aggression in every single comment (and finding it), reading into every word for What They're Actually Saying Without Really Saying?

that is so WASP it should be in the dictionary next to the term!!! being presentable is more important than communicating directly, at all times, and the protestant roots mean that Suffering In Silence is a VIRTUE. it's a sin to need things and a double sin to ask for them. god forbid you impose upon another person, it's contractually required that you suffer quietly for a respectable amount of time while you drop the subtlest of hints in the direction of whoever you want help from in the hopes that they will do the good respectable charitable christian thing and offer you that help out of the goodness of their hearts, and if they don't, then you suffer some more and also nurse a lifelong grudge against them in the most passive aggressive unspoken festering way possible.

being raised in that culture informs everything about Gansey's personality and how he interacts with other people and forms relationships.

and it also informs Gansey's relationship with his wealth and his position!! Gansey's class guilt is like half of his character arc!!! and we can't pretend that class and race aren't tied together, okay, we can't get away with pretending that race doesn't play a part in people's place in society. for the Ganseys to be old money like they are, and old virginian money at that, to make them anything other than white introduces a whole HOST of complications that, frankly, the show is not engaging with.

the showrunners have made so much noise about diversifying the cast since the books were so white, and they're reeeeaaally patting themselves on the back for this, but it doesn't feel like they put any THOUGHT into how this change would actually affect the characterization!!!!

do they think that a latino in the upper echelons of the (white) (republican) virginian old money social scene wouldn't have a different experience? a different relationship with their money, and with their own heritage, and with other pocs?? that it wouldn't affect and complicate Gansey's relationship with Blue, especially with how much stronger they've leaned into Blue's connection with her cultural heritage and her political activism and how vocal she's been about intersectionality as a poor non-christian mixed race Black woman in appalachia.

Gansey is a latino man who can't speak spanish living in a mansion on a former slave plantation and Blue doesn't have anything to say about that?? Gansey doesn't have any extra layer of guilt or shame about his disconnect from his own culture?? Gansey is so full of guilt and insecurity about so many things, but there's been NO indication so far of how his race intersects with that.

for them to make this kind of huge change, i would've needed to see them really commit to it and show me that they understand the sociological implications of this decision. and they haven't done that. i know we've only gotten season 1, and hey, maybe i'm wrong and there'll be an arc about it somewhere in season 2, but so far i'm wholly disappointed. it really feels like they slipped it in there just to say that they had and then functionally ignored it aside from that one spanish-speaking scene.

what was the POINT except to pat themselves on the back??

[what-even-is-sleep]

thinking about Bodkin again bc I mean,,, ALL THE SYMBOLISM OHHHHHGH. i NEED some tumblr film analysis hobbyists to watch this show and tell me all the themes n such

[districtunrest]

speaking my truth

I think Gale was joking about the slag heap being a hookup spot

why would anyone lay down and do anything on this

[puppyeared]

I CANT USE CSS ON ARTFIGHT...............

[moonshynecybin]

Okay but what is vale’s reaction to the motogp Instagram account posting that in the forced coming out au. Internally I mean. Does he do his best to ignore it? Is he so deep in denial that he’s patting himself on the back for being a good actor? What narrative is he building in his head?

coming down on jorge lorenzo (decidedly winning the idgaf war in all years) sending it to him and vale externally commenting two little love hearts and @ ing marc's insta publicly BUT also internally being like. im gonna have to run away to some uninhabited island in the mediterranean and live in exile like napoleon this sucks so bad